諾貝爾文學經典:《寵兒》第10章Part 4

Was that it? Is that where the manhood lay? In the naming done by a whiteman who was supposedto know? Who gave them the privilege not of working but of deciding how to? No. In theirrelationship with Garner was true metal: they were believed and trusted, but most of all they werelistened to.
He thought what they said had merit, and what they felt was serious. Deferring to his slaves'opinions did not deprive him of authority or power. It was schoolteacher who taught themotherwise. A truth that waved like a scarecrow in rye: they were only Sweet Home men at Sweet Home. One step off that ground and they were trespassers among the human race. Watchdogswithout teeth; steer bulls without horns; gelded workhorses whose neigh and whinny could not betranslated into a language responsible humans spoke.
His strength had lain in knowing that schoolteacher was wrong. Now he wondered. There wasAlfred, Georgia, there was Delaware, there was Sixo and still he wondered. If schoolteacher wasright it explained how he had come to be a rag doll — picked up and put back down anywhere anytime by a girl young enough to be his daughter. Fucking her when he was convinced he didn't wantto. Whenever she turned her behind up, the calves of his youth (was that it?) cracked his resolve.
But it was more than appetite that humiliated him and made him wonder if schoolteacher wasright. It was being moved, placed where she wanted him, and there was nothing he was able to doabout it. For his life he could not walk up the glistening white stairs in the evening; for his life hecould not stay in the kitchen, in the keeping room, in the storeroom at night. And he tried. Held hisbreath the way he had when he ducked into the mud; steeled his heart the way he had when thetrembling began. But it was worse than that, worse than the blood eddy he had controlled with asledge hammer. When he stood up from the supper table at 124 and turned toward the stairs,nausea was first, then repulsion. He, he. He who had eaten raw meat barely dead, who under plumtrees bursting with blossoms had crunched through a dove's breast before its heart stopped beating. Because he was a man and a man could do what he would: be still for six hours in a dry well whilenight dropped; fight raccoon with his hands and win; watch another man, whom he loved betterthan his brothers, roast without a tear just so the roasters would know what a man was like. And itwas he, that man, who had walked from Georgia to Delaware, who could not go or stay put wherehe wanted to in 124 — shame.

就是那麼回事麼？那就是男子氣概麼？讓一個據說明白的白人命名一下？讓那個不是僅僅派給他們活幹，而是給了他們決定怎麼幹活的特權的人給命個名？不。他們和加納的關係是最鐵的：他相信並信任他們，最要緊的是他聽他們說話。
他認爲他們說的話有價值，他們的感覺也是嚴肅的。聽從他的奴隸的意見並不會剝奪他的威嚴和權力。"學校老師"教給他們的卻恰恰相反。一個像黑麥田裏的稻草人一樣左右搖擺的真理：他們只在"甜蜜之家"纔是"甜蜜之家"的男人。走出那塊土地一步，他們就是人種中的渣滓。是沒有牙的看門狗；是沒有角的公牛；是閹割的轅馬，嘶叫聲不能翻譯成一種重任在肩的人使用的語言。他的力量曾經表現爲知道"學校老師"是錯的。現在他糊塗了。儘管有過佐治亞的阿爾弗雷德，有過特拉華，有過西克索，可他還是糊塗。如果"學校老師"是對的，那就可以解釋他怎麼成了一個布娃娃——讓一個年輕得可以做他女兒的姑娘隨時隨地撿起來、丟回去。讓他在確信自己根本不情願的時候操她。無論她什麼時候撅起屁股，他年輕時代的小母牛（真是那樣麼？）就擊碎了他的決心。
然而不止是慾望侮辱了他，使他懷疑"學校老師"是否正確。那東西被牽動着，送進她要他放的地方，而他對此卻無能爲力。他這輩子再不能在晚間走上閃閃發光的白樓梯了；他這輩子再不能在夜裏待在廚房、起居室、貯藏室裏了。他試過。像從前潛進泥漿時那樣屏住呼吸；像從前顫抖開始時那樣鐵了心腸。可是這比那更糟，比他用一把長柄大鐵錘控制住了的血的漩渦還糟。每當他從124號的餐桌旁站起來轉向樓梯時，他先是覺得噁心，然後就心生反感。他，他。是他吃了尚未死乾淨的生肉，是他在鮮花盛開的梅樹下咬穿一隻鴿子的胸脯，鴿子的心還沒有停止跳動。因爲他是一個男人，而一個男人想幹什麼就能幹什麼：當夜幕降臨的時候，在一眼枯井裏六小時一動不動；赤手空拳打敗浣熊；觀看另一個與他情逾手足的男人被燒烤，卻不掉一滴眼淚，只是爲了讓燒烤他的人知道一個男人是什麼樣子。而且，就是他，那個男人，曾經從佐治亞走到了特拉華，而在124號裏面，卻不能在他想待的地方自主地去留——恥辱啊。