Moving 搬家记

沙博理 任东升 焦琳

A young woman we knew， who had learned American brashness by spending her teenage years in New York， called to see me. The first time I met her， in 1949， she got us both into hot water， herself literally and me figuratively. I was home alone one afternoon when a stunning Chinese girl came breezing in， introduced herself as a friend of a friend， and said she had heard we had a bathtub—then a relative rarity in Beijing. This was true enough， since we were still living in a foreign-style house in the old College of Chinese Studies compound. If I didnt mind， she added pleasantly， she would take a bath， and strolled off before I could close my gaping mouth.

Ten minutes later， Phoenix came home and headed straight for the bathroom. Twenty seconds later， she marched up and confronted me.

“Who is that woman？”

“I never saw her before in my life—”

“Hah！”

I was pure as the driven snow， but it wasnt until the lady herself emerged， pink and fragrant from her bath and explained who she was， that the suspicious look faded somewhat from Phoenixs eyes.

Now， in 1957， this high-voltage beauty was amazing us again. She was planning to move， she said. Good housing was still pretty scarce， but somehow she had got on to not one house， but two. She asked whether we would be willing to take one of them off her hands. Since the place she offered was more conveniently located to both Phoenixs office and mine， besides being larger， brighter， and with more rooms than where we were living， we quickly agreed. Rent was not much. All premises where 15 rooms or more were let for profit had been taken over by the city. You paid your rent directly to the municipal authorities， who gave a fixed share to the former owner over a period of years until the value of his equity was paid off.

Moving was no problem. We had beds， a sofa， two wicker chairs， woven mat rugs， pots and pans， iron heating stoves—very modest. At the same time we had a good foreign-made radio bought from a departing Westerner， bureaus and clothes hampers （traditional Chinese homes have no closets）， and several antique tables and mahogany bookcases. These last I had bought for a pittance1 in second-hand shops when the wealthy of the old regime were retrenching and flooding the market with beautiful hardwood furniture.

Our main item of kitchen equipment was the stove—a cylinder of sheet iron about three feet high， lined with thin firebrick and cooking with coalballs. We were not encumbered by a refrigerator， since Chinese families buy only whatever perishables they eat that day. In the 1950s home furnishings of foreigners were a mixture of local and imported products.

It didnt take us long to move. My Office sent a small truck and a couple of strong young men， and we finished the job in two trips.

Our new quarters were in another hollow square compound. It must have been very old. On either side of the front gate was a square stone about two feet high. These were mounting blocks， for getting on your horse， or into a sedan chair.2 The compound was a yard3 lower than the lane outside， always a sign of age in Beijing， for the dust of centuries， swept out of the courtyards daily， piled up and raised the level of the earthen streets.

Full of large trees and flowering shrubs， it was very pleasant. We were in the outermost courtyard， in a one-storey structure built in a straight row which used to be the servants quarters. The only trouble was that our rooms were paved with large stone flaggings laid directly on the earth. In the damp of spring and early summer our floors and walls sopped up moisture like a sponge， and we all developed aches in our joints. But houses were hard to come by， and we stuck it out4 for several years until we found our present place， which has wooden floors a yard above the ground.

Our neighbors—three families living in the handsome inner courtyard—were all connected with civil aviation. The main and best building， facing south， housed our landlord. He had been a manager in the KMTs China National Aviation Company （CNAC）. When the old regime collapsed， along with other officials he had been pressured onto a ship heading for Taiwan. As they were leaving the harbor， he jumped overboard and swam ashore. The Peoples Republic gave him a position in the new airline at a high salary. He owned quite a bit of real estate in Beijing， of which the compound we lived in was part. With him was his wife， a sharp efficient woman disliked5 by the poorer people in our lane for her arrogant manner.

The family in the east wing consisted of a young aeronautical engineer， kept on when the CNAC was taken over， his wife and two kids. Except for a tiny fraction of fervid counter-revolutionaries and crooks， everyone working in the numerous Kuomintang government offices and agencies had been retained when the Communists came to power. The wife was a typical middle-class housewife， rather beefy， and always expensively dressed.

In the west wing lived a bachelor， at least for the moment. A lean good-looking fellow who had been married and divorced， he lived alone，6 when not being solaced by a young woman who wore high heels and form-fitting gowns. He had a good radio-phonograph combination， a stack of American dance records， and a well-equipped bar. I dropped in for a drink occasionally， and he told me his story.

He had been a commercial airline pilot under the Kuomintang， and had just finished a flight to Hong Kong when Chiang Kai-shek fled the mainland. The Communists broadcast a statement that they would welcome all returning airline personnel and would pay bonuses for planes brought back， the price ranging with the size of the plane. He had no illusions about the Kuomintang—“a pack of turds，” he called them—and had no desire to spend his days in Taiwan. Besides， the bonus offered was substantial. He drove down to the airport， said he had to test his plane， took off and flew to Shanghai. Not only was he paid for the plane—in gold—but he also was given a job as a flight instructor with a very good salary in Beijing.

He should have been happy， but he wasnt. He had nothing against the new administration—he could see how much better off people were. But it wasnt the kind of life he was used to. He had no interest in the political study going on. His smartly cut clothes were conspicuous among his casually dressed colleagues. It was hard to rustle up a card game or throw a big party. People were busy. They didnt care much about such things any more. He had his girl friend， of course. No one seemed to mind that they were living together. People only smiled and asked when he was planning to get married. Even his money didnt give him any special status. He could buy expensive canned goods with it， but who wanted food in cans when fresh meat and vegetables were plentiful and cheap？

He was pretty frustrated， but there wasnt anything I could do to help him. It was just part of a process all bourgeois-minded people， including myself， were going through. You had to decide. No one was opposed to fun and games， as such. The Chinese enjoyed their amusements as much as anybody. But it was a question of values， of emphasis. To what did you devote your main energies？ What was your primary interest in life？ Your personal comfort？ Your immediate family？ Or did you raise your sights and work for your local community， your national community， the world community？ True， you could keep your nose clean， go through the motions on your job， say what you felt was expected of you and， on your own time， indulge in all the material pleasures and comforts you wished. You could live that way， no one would stop you， as long as it didnt infringe on the rights of others. Yet， unless you had the hide of a rhinoceros， you couldnt help feeling that most people—your colleagues， your friends， your children—watched you sadly.

That was what was disturbing our pilot. What was the good of a little ostentation if no one envied you， or—even worse—thought you vulgar？ The braggart， the show-off was like a fish out of water in the new society. Our pilot was a dying breed. Yet even he might change. Id seen it happen in worse cases. They suddenly realized that “Serve the people” was the only creed that brought any lasting satisfaction.

Or so I viewed the situation in China in 1957.

我们认识的一位年轻女子打电话说要来看看我，她十几岁时在纽约待过几年，沾上了美国人莽撞的习气。第一次见她是在1949年，一个热水澡把我俩臊了一回：她是真洗了一个澡，我是惹了一身骚。有天下午就我一人在家，一个容貌迷人的中国姑娘像阵清风旋进了门，她自称是某位朋友的朋友，听说我们家有个浴缸——当时的北京，浴缸还是稀罕物。家里确实有，因为我们住的是原先华文学院大院里的洋房。她甜甜地说，如果我不介意的话，她想洗个澡。我目瞪口呆还没缓过神，她就款步姗姗进去了。

10分钟后，凤子回家了，还直奔浴室。20秒后，她大步流星过来质问我：

“那个女的是谁？”

“我以前可从没见过……”

“哼！”

我是纯洁如雪啊，直到那个女子带着浴后的满脸红润和一身芬香出来讲明她是何许人，凤子眼神里的怀疑才消失了些。

眼跟前，1957年，这位活力四射的美人要再让我们吃上一惊。她说，她打算搬家。好的住处仍然很稀缺，但她居然弄到两处，问我们想不想接过一处。因为她提供的房子离凤子和我的单位都近便，况且比我们现在住的宽敞、亮堂，房间也多，所以我们马上就同意了。房租不高。有15个或更多房间出租的宅院全部由市政府接管。租金直接交给政府部门，政府每次分给前房主固定数额的一笔钱，直到几年后付清其房价总值为止。

搬家不是难事。我们有床、一张沙发、两把藤椅、织垫、地毯、锅碗瓢盆、取暖铁炉——很简单。此外，还有从要回国的西方人手里买的一台不错的外国收音机，衣柜、洗衣筐（传统的中国住房没有壁橱），以及几张古式桌子和几个红木书架。最后那几样是旧社会的富人为缩减开支在市场大量贱卖漂亮硬木家具时我从二手店低价淘来的。

厨房的主要物件是炉子，一个近一米高的圆铁皮筒，内衬薄耐火砖，烧煤球做饭。倒是没有冰箱拖累，因为中国家庭当天就买当天吃的。20世纪50年代那会儿，在北京的外国人家中，陈设既有中国货也有进口货。

搬家没花太长时间。单位派来一辆小卡车和两三个身强力壮的小伙子，我们两趟就搞定了。

新的住处也在四合院里。院子一定是有些年代了。大门两侧各有一块半米多高的方石，是上马或上轿子用的垫脚石。院落比外面的胡同低出快一米，这在北京一向是年代久远的标志，因为几百年来每天从院里扫出来的尘土堆积起来，土街就一层层抬高了。

院里到处可见参天大树和开花的灌木，环境宜人。我们住在外院的一排平房里，过去是仆人的住处。唯一苦恼的是屋里的地面直接用大块石板铺成，在潮湿的春天和初夏，地面和墙面受了潮好像海绵吸了水，弄得我们都出现了关节痛。但房子很难找，我们将就了好几年，直到找到现在这个住处，有木地板且高出地面快一米。

我们的邻居有三家人，住在漂亮的内院，而且都在民航部门上班。最好的房子是正房，坐北朝南，房东住着，国民政府时期他曾任中国航空公司的经理。旧政权垮台那会儿，他迫于压力和其他官员一道登上一艘开往台湾的船。就在船驶离港口时，他跳船游回了岸上。新中国给他在新航空公司安排了一个高薪职位。他在北京拥有相当多的房产，我们住的四合院就是其中一部分。他老婆和他住一块儿，精明干练，有股傲慢劲儿，不招胡同里的穷邻居待见。

东厢房一家是年轻的航空工程师跟他老婆和两个孩子，他在中国航空公司被接管后得以留用。除了一小撮激进的反革命分子和坏分子，其他在国民政府部门和机构工作的人在共产党掌权后都被继续留用。他老婆是典型的中产阶级家庭主妇，身材硕壮，穿着一直挺阔气。

西厢房住的是个单身汉，至少当时是单身。他身形清瘦，长相英俊，结过婚又离了，一人独居。有个穿高跟鞋和紧身旗袍的年轻女人不时来找他玩。他有一台很好的收音电唱两用机、一摞美国舞曲唱片，还有一个配备齐全的酒柜。我偶尔去喝一杯，他就把他的事讲给我听。

他曾是国民政府时期一家商业航空公司的飞行员，蒋介石逃离大陆时他执飞的航班刚刚抵达香港。中共广播了一份声明，表示欢迎所有返回大陆的航空人员，驾机回来的还会给予奖赏，金额视机型大小而定。他对国民党不抱任何幻想，称其为“一堆烂渣”，也不想去臺湾生活。再说，共产党提供的奖赏相当丰厚。于是，他驱车到机场，说他得测试飞机，起飞后直奔上海。他不仅因这架飞机获得报偿——给的可是黄金呐，而且还得到一份在北京当飞行教练的高薪工作。

他本该感到开心，可他没有。他对新政权并没有异议，他能看到人们的生活改善了很多，但这并不是他所习惯的那种生活。他对眼下的政治学习不感兴趣，他那剪裁讲究的衣服在穿着随意的同事当中很扎眼。想凑个牌局或办场大型派对很难。大家都忙，不再把这类娱乐放在心上。当然，他有女朋友，他们同居似乎也没有人在意。大家只是微笑着问他打算什么时候结婚。他那么有钱都没显出他有多么尊贵。他倒是买得起昂贵的罐头食品，但有丰富实惠的新鲜肉类和蔬菜，谁还瞧得上罐装食品呢？

他就很沮丧， 但我也帮不上什么忙。这只是所有有世俗思想的人正在经历的一个阶段，我也算一个吧。你必须做出决定。像这样，找找乐、打打牌谁也不反对。中国人跟任何人一样都喜欢娱乐，但这是价值观或者说侧重点的问题。你把主要精力用在什么地方？生活中你最关心什么？个人安适？直系亲属？或者，你是否提高了境界，为周围人、为国家、为全人类而工作？的确，你可以不惹是非，把工作对付过去，说些别人想听的话，业余时间则耽于想要的物质享受和安逸。你可以这样生活，只要不侵犯别人的权利，没人会阻止你。然而，除非你的脸皮像犀牛皮那么厚，否则你会禁不住感到大多数人——你的同事、朋友、孩子——都伤心地看着你呐。

让咱们这位飞行员烦心的就是这个。如果谁也不羡慕你，甚或更糟，都觉得你俗不可耐，那么自己显摆一番有什么用呢？爱吹牛、爱炫耀的人在新社会就像离水之鱼般不自在。我们这位飞行员属于正在消失的一类人。但即便他这样的人也可以改变，我见过情况更糟糕的人也改变了。他们突然间意识到，“为人民服务”才是带来持久满足感的唯一信条。

我眼中1957年的中国，情况就大概如此吧。

【译析】

翻译家沙博理在其自传《我的中国》（My China： The Metamorphosis of a Country and a Man， 1997）中，记述了自己1957年的一次搬家经历。文中出現了多个人物，“我”、凤子、介绍房子的年轻女子和新家大院里的三户人家，个个栩栩如生，跃然纸上，颇有老舍笔下小羊圈胡同里的人间烟火气。同时，沙博理的文风自然诙谐，措辞口语化，文字中蕴含的情感细腻，润物细无声。要在译文中生动再现这些人物形象及情感态度，实为不易。

【例1】

原：She got us both into hot water， herself literally and me figuratively.

译：一个热水澡把我俩臊了一回：她是真洗了一个澡，我是惹了一身骚。

析：“臊”和“骚”都是方言，用法灵活，蕴含的语义、情感都更为丰富，传神地表现出“我”的羞窘尴尬。译者还巧妙转换了原文的双关修辞，保留了hot water的意象，更为难得的是“臊”“骚”和“澡”实现了押韵，神气不失的同时音韵和谐，朗朗上口。

【例2】

原：I was home alone one afternoon when a stunning Chinese girl came breezing in… strolled off before I could close my gaping mouth.

译：有天下午就我一人在家，一个容貌迷人的中国姑娘像阵清风旋进了门……我目瞪口呆还没缓过神，她就款步姗姗进去了。

析：“旋”字极具生命力，表现出姑娘的动作轻盈灵巧，将strolled译为“款步姗姗”，不仅能传达出姑娘闲庭信步、毫不见外的神态，又多了一分步态的婀娜美感。同样鲜活的还有凤子，译文简明却细腻，捕捉住凤子话语中流转的情绪情感，将凤子表现得率直而生气勃勃。

【例3】

原：“Who is that woman？”

“I never saw her before in my life —”

“Hah！”

译：“那个女的是谁？”

“我以前可从没见过……”

“哼！”

析：看到woman一般反应都是“女人”，但译者此处译为“女的”有更进一步的情感考量，因其更为口语化，带着一股反感和不屑的情绪，更为真实地再现了凤子盛怒之下的质问。同样，在翻译I never saw的时候添加程度副词“可”，就写活了丈夫被误解、质问后急于解释澄清的形象，还能读出些许“信誓旦旦”的意味。英文中的hah也转换为汉语习惯的“哼”。女性的一声“哼”往往据语调语气不同有千般未尽之意，此处除气愤外还能读出些许“暂且信你，过后再和你算账”的潜台词，将凤子的口吻、情绪、心理把握得十分到位。

【例4】

原：He drove down to the airport， said he had to test his plane， took off and flew to Shanghai.

译：于是，他驱车到机场，说他得测试飞机，起飞后直奔上海。

析：前两个小句都是行动的前奏，暗中计划，步步铺垫，而所有克制的、不动声色的情感都随飞机起飞一涌而出，“直奔”一词就能体现出飞行员的归心似箭，增添了一分时局动荡的紧张情绪。若简单译为“飞往上海”则不疼不痒，于情感和形象方面都是一大缺失。

【例5】

原：Even his money didnt give him any special status. He could buy expensive canned goods with it， but who wanted food in cans when fresh meat and vegetables were plentiful and cheap？

译：他那么有钱都没显出他有多么尊贵。他倒是买得起昂贵的罐头食品，但有丰富实惠的新鲜肉类和蔬菜，谁还瞧得上罐装食品呢？

析：朗读原文时重音会放在even和could上，说明原文正是通过这两个词传达语气和情感。而译文则转换添加了程度副词“那么”“都”及表让步的副词“倒是”，以退为进，加强语气，凸显和后句的反差，强调金钱同生活的幸福感、满足感甚至社会地位之间都不能画等号，表达出积极正面的情感态度。                                 □

（作译者单位：中国海洋大学）