《心是孤独的猎手》讲述的是一个关于孤独的故事。作者麦卡勒斯以她独特的手法写美国南方的一个小镇，写八月漫长沉闷的下午，写午夜的咖啡馆里喝着冰啤酒徘徊于孤独的人们……然而读完整本书后，给小编留下最深刻印象的却是那个可爱的小女孩米克。12岁左右的她有着瘦长的身子、灰亚麻色的头发，穿着卡其布短裤、蓝衬衫和网球鞋，让人第一眼看上去觉得她像个男孩。有时她会拖着几个流着鼻涕的弟弟，除此之外，就总是单独一个人。她是一个对音乐极度敏感的孩子，总有一首钢琴曲或是其他曲子在她脑子里不断回响。她有着惊人的通感能力，莫扎特的曲子——“闻起来有春天雨后的味道”，“有时候他的音乐像是五彩缤纷的水晶糖，有时候却是她所能想象的最温柔、最悲伤的事物，让她每次聆听时心脏都会缩紧。”她的梦想是成为世界著名的伟大作曲家，而她作的曲和画，以及一把破琴，却都只能藏在床底下的那只大帽盒里。她省下午饭钱来请人教自己识谱，结果使自己整天都处于饥饿当中。然而不久以后，她弟弟巴伯尔射伤了邻居的小孩，为了赔偿，她们全家陷入了困境，她不再有午饭钱了。于是，她再也无法待在“里屋”（参见下文）了，而是被家人打扮成16岁的样子去打工，成了一名普通的店员……虽然该小说的主旨突显的是麦卡勒斯式的主题：“孤独是绝对的，最深切的爱也无法改变人类最终极的孤独。”但是在以下节选的段落中，米克那份对音乐的痴迷和陶醉还是让人找到了一丝慰藉：纵然我们都是孤独的，音乐和爱仍能带给我们感动和温暖！
Carson McCullers（卡森·麦卡勒斯，1917—1967），20世纪美国最重要的作家之一，出生于美国佐治亚州，29岁后瘫痪。她著有《心是孤独的猎手》、《伤心咖啡馆之歌》、《婚礼的成员》、《没有指针的钟》等小说作品。《心是孤独的猎手》是麦卡勒斯的第一部长篇小说，也是她一举成名的作品和最具震撼力的代表作，出版于1940年，居“现代文库20世纪百佳英文小说”第17位。
文字难度：★★☆
英文PDF完整版下载：http://www.joyen.net/soft/endown/read/201108/185.html
In the quiet, secret night she was by herself again. It was not late—yellow squares of light 1)snowed in the windows of the houses along the streets. She walked slow, with her hands in her pockets and her head to one side. For a long time she walked without noticing the direction. Then the houses were far apart from each other and there were yards with big trees in them and black 2)shrubbery. She looked around and saw she was near this house where she had gone so many times in the summer. Her feet had just taken her here without her knowing. When she came to the house she waited to be sure no person could see. Then she went through the side yard.
安静、隐秘的夜晚，她又一次独自一人。不算太晚——街边房屋的窗子上透出黄色的光晕。她走得很慢，手插在口袋里，歪着脑袋。她漫无目的地走了很久。房子越来越稀疏了，院子里有大树和黑色的灌木丛。她望望四周，发现自己走到了夏天来过许多次的那间房子旁。她的脚不知不觉地把她带到了这里。她站在房子前等了等，直到确认没人能看见她。接着，她穿过旁边的院子。
The radio was on as usual. For a second she stood by the window and watched the people inside. The bald-headed man and the gray-haired lady were playing cards at a table. Mick sat on the ground. This was a very fine and secret place. Close around were thick 3)cedars so that she was completely hidden by herself. The radio was no good tonight—somebody sang popular songs that all ended in the same way. It was like she was empty. She reached in her pockets and felt around with her fingers. There were raisins and a string of beads—one cigarette with matches. She lighted the cigarette and put her arms around her knees. It was like she was so empty there wasn’t even a feeling or thought in her. One program came on after another, and all of them were 4)punk. She didn’t especially care. She smoked and picked a little bunch of grass blades. After a while a new announcer started talking. He mentioned 5)Beethoven. She had read in the library about that musician—his name was pronounced with an A and spelled with double E. He was a German fellow like 6)Mozart. When he was living he spoke in a foreign language and lived in a foreign place—like she wanted to do. The announcer said they were going to play his third symphony. She only halfway listened because she wanted to walk some more and she didn’t care much what they played. Then the music started. Mick raised her head and her fist went up to her throat.
收音机像往常一样开着。她在窗下站了片刻，看着屋里的人。只见秃头男人和灰发女士坐在桌边打牌。米克坐到了地上。这是一处隐蔽的好地方，四周都是厚厚的雪松，她藏在里面，谁也看不见她。今晚收音机的节目不太好——有人在唱都以同样的方式结尾的流行歌曲。她觉得空虚。把手伸进口袋，手指摸索着。有葡萄干、一串珠子，还有一根香烟和几根火柴。她点着了烟，抱膝而坐。她像是空虚到了极点，没有一丝感觉或想法。一个节目接着一个节目地播放着，全是垃圾。她漫不经心地听着。她抽着烟，并抓了一小把草叶。过了一会儿，新的播音员开始说话。他提到了贝多芬。她在图书馆里读到过这个音乐家——他的名字听起来有一个“A”，拼写时则是两个“E”。他是一个德国的家伙，和莫扎特一样。他活着的时候，说外语，住在外国——她也想这样。播音员说马上要播放他的第三交响曲。她心不在焉地听着，因为她还想再走一走，所以对收音机节目没什么兴趣。这时音乐开始了。米克扬起脑袋，一下子无法呼吸。
How did it come? For a minute the opening balanced from one side to the other. Like a walk or march. Like God 7)strutting in the night. The outside of her was suddenly frozen and only that first part of the music was hot inside her heart. She could not even hear what sounded after, but she sat there waiting and froze, with her fists tight. After a while the music came again, harder and loud. It didn’t have anything to do with God. This was her, Mick Kelly, walking in the daytime and by herself at night. In the hot sun and in the dark with all the plans and feelings. This music was her—the real 8)plain her.
怎么回事？片刻间，音乐的开章像天平的两端那样高低晃动。像散步，或者行军。像上帝在夜里神气活现地走路。她身外的一切突然都冻结了，只有那开篇乐章在她心中沸腾。她甚至听不见后面的音乐，但她坐在那里等待着，握紧了拳头，浑身僵住了。过了一会儿，音乐又响起，更低沉，更宏亮。这音乐和上帝毫无关系。是她，米克·凯利，白天行走，夜晚独自一人。在热辣辣的阳光下，在黑夜中，充满计划，充满感情。这音乐就是她——最真实真切的她。
She could not listen good enough to hear it all. The music boiled inside her. Which? To hang on to certain wonderful parts and think them over so that later she would not forget—or should she let go and listen to each part that came without thinking or trying to remember?9)Golly! The whole world was this music and she could not listen hard enough. Then at last the opening music came again, with all the different instruments 10)bunched together for each note like a hard, tight fist that 11)socked at her heart. And the first part was over.
她无法听清音乐的全部。这音乐在她身体里沸腾。哪部分？牢牢地记住精彩的部分，一遍遍回味，这样她就不会忘记——或者她应该放松，听每一部分，不要去想，也不要努力记住？天哪！整个世界就是这首曲子，她却不能听个够。最终，音乐开头的部分又回来了，每个音符都有不同的乐器交织在一起，如同攥得紧紧的重拳猛击在她的心上。第一乐章结束了。