67
关于她生孩子时的情况，我有两个消息来源，一个是她，另一个就是为我们接生的医生。这里我用自己的话，简述一下当时的情况。我已经分娩完二十多天了，那天在下雨，我母亲已经住院两个星期了，如果哪天没看到我，她就会像个小孩一样，哭得一把鼻涕一把泪。黛黛有点儿发烧，艾尔莎拒绝去学校，说她要照顾姐姐。卡门没空，阿方索也有事儿。我给莉拉打电话，我还是像往常一样，说了一些前提条件：“如果你觉得不舒服，如果你要工作，那就算了，我另想办法。”她还是用轻松的语气说，她很好，作为老板，她可以把工作分配出去，想出来多久都可以。她很爱我的两个女儿，尤其是她喜欢和两个孩子一起照顾伊玛，她觉得那是一种游戏，四个人都很开心。“我马上来。”她说。我估摸着，她最多一个小时就到了，但她一直没来。我等了一会儿，因为我知道，她答应了我就一定会来的，我对我的邻居说：“就是几分钟的事儿。”我把几个孩子交代给她，就跑去看我母亲。
I know about the birth from two sources,
her and the gynecologist. Here I’ll put down the stories in succession and
summarize the situation in my own words. It was raining. I had given birth
three weeks earlier. My mother had been in the clinic for a couple of weeks
and, if I didn’t appear, she wept like an anxious child. Dede had a slight
fever, Elsa refused to go to school, insisting that she wanted to take care
of her sister. Carmen wasn’t available, nor was Alfonso. I called Lila, I set
out the usual conditions: If you don’t feel well, if you have to work, forget
it, I’ll find another solution. She replied in her teasing way that she felt
very well and that when you’re the boss you give the orders and take all the
time off you want. She loved the two girls, but she especially liked taking
care of Imma with them; it was a game that made all four of them happy. I’m
leaving right away, she said. I figured that she would arrive in an hour at
most, but she was late. I waited a while, but since I knew that she would
keep her promise, I said to the neighbor: It’s a matter of minutes, and left
the children with her to go to my mother.
但莉拉没来，是因为她身体的一些征兆。她虽然没发生挛缩，但她感觉有些不对劲儿，出于慎重，她让恩佐陪她来我家，还没进门她就感到一阵阵痛。她马上给卡门打了电话，让她来帮我邻居看孩子，恩佐把她带到了我们妇产科医生的诊所，阵痛马上变得非常强烈，但她没马上生，而是折腾了整整十六个小时。
But Lila was late because of a sort of
presentiment in her body. Although she wasn’t having contractions she didn’t
feel well and, finally, as a precaution, had Enzo take her to my house. Even
before she went in she felt the first pains. She immediately called Carmen,
ordering her to come and give the neighbor a hand, then Enzo took her to the
clinic where our gynecologist worked. The contractions suddenly became
violent but not decisive: the labor lasted sixteen hours.
莉拉是用一种轻松戏谑的语气，跟我讲她生孩子的经过。她说，都说只有生第一个孩子时会受罪，后面几个会容易一些，这不是真的，总是会很受罪。然后她就说了一通开玩笑的话，有些难以理喻。她觉得，一方面要保护肚子里的孩子，一方面要把他排挤出来，这很荒谬。她说，这很可笑，你让他舒舒服服在你肚子里待了九个月，最后要用一种很暴力的方式把这个住户赶出来。她摇着头，觉得这个机制简直太不可思议了。她用意大利语说：“好癫狂，是你自己的身体在反对你，让你成为自己最糟糕的敌人，给你带来一种最可怕的疼痛。”她几个小时都在忍受这种疼痛，肚子下面冰冷刺骨，一阵无法忍受的疼痛冲击着肚子最深处，然后再到后面，冲击着她的肾。她开玩笑说：“你一定撒谎了，这哪里是美好的体验。”她发誓说——这时候她是很严肃的，她再也不会怀孕了。
Lila’s account was almost funny. It’s not
true, she said, that you suffer only with the first child and afterward it’s
easier—you always suffer. And she brought out arguments as fierce as they
were humorous. It seemed to her pointless to safeguard the child in your womb
and at the same time long to get rid of it. It’s ridiculous, she said, that
this exquisite nine months of hospitality is accompanied by the desire to
throw out the guest as violently as possible. She shook her head indignantly
at the inconsistency of the mechanism. It’s crazy, she exclaimed, resorting
to Italian, it’s your own body that’s angry with you, and in fact rebels
against you until it becomes its own worst enemy, until it achieves the most
terrible pain possible. For hours she had felt in her belly sharp cold
flames, an unbearable flow of pain that hit her brutally in the pit of her
stomach and then returned, penetrating her kidneys. Come on, she said
sarcastically, you’re a liar, where is the great experience. And she swore—this
time seriously—that she would never get pregnant again.
但是，按照妇产科医生的说法，她的情况很正常，要是放到别的女人身上，她们就会毫无问题地把孩子生下来。有一天晚上，尼诺邀请妇产科医生和她丈夫来我们家里吃饭。她说，让事情变得复杂的是莉拉的态度，还有她的脑子，医生被她搞得很烦。医生说：“你不按照我说的来，总是在跟我作对，我让你使劲，加油用力，你总是兜着。”按照医生的说法，莉拉明显是在跟她作对，挑战她的耐心，在我家里吃晚饭时，她没有掩饰自己对莉拉的讨厌，而是说出来了，尤其是尼诺，还在边上和她一唱一和。莉拉想尽一切办法，不把肚子里的孩子生出来。她用尽力气让孩子留在肚子里，同时她还痛苦地抱怨：“把我的肚子切开，让他出来，我自己生不出来。”医生一直在鼓励莉拉，但莉拉对她恶语相向，非常粗俗。妇产科医生对我们说：“她浑身是汗，瞪着眼睛，大额头下面的眼睛里充满血丝，对我叫喊着：‘你说得轻松，对我下命令，你在我的位子上试试，混蛋！假如你能行的话，你把她弄出来了，我快要死了。’”
But according to the gynecologist, whom
Nino invited to dinner one night with her husband, the delivery had been
normal, any other woman would have given birth without all that talk. What
complicated it was only Lila’s teeming head. The doctor had been very
irritated. You’re doing the opposite of what you should, she had reprimanded
her, you hold on when instead you should push: go on, go, push. According to
her—she now felt an open aversion toward her patient, and there in my house,
at dinner, she didn’t hide it but, rather, displayed it in a conspiratorial
way, especially to Nino—Lila had done her best not to bring her infant into
the world. She held onto it with all her strength and meanwhile gasped: Cut
my stomach open, you get it out, I can’t do it. When the gynecologist
continued to encourage her, Lila shouted vulgar insults at her. She was
soaked in sweat, the gynecologist told us, her eyes were bloodshot below her
broad forehead, and she was screaming: You talk, you give orders, you come
here and do it, you piece of shit, you push the baby out if you can, it’s
killing me.
我有些烦了，对医生说：“你不应该跟我们说这些。”医生更生气了，她感叹了一句：“我说这些，是因为我们都是朋友。”但之后，她马上用医生的语气，用一种装出来的严肃语气说，假如我们爱莉拉，我们（她当然指的是尼诺和我）应该帮助她，让她做一些能给她带来满足的事儿，否则的话，她那跳芭蕾一样的脑子（她就是这么说的），会给她自己还有周围的人带来麻烦。她最后重申，她在产房看到了一场反自然的斗争，是一个母亲和她肚子里的孩子的斗争。她说：“对我来说，那是一场非常糟糕的体验。”
I was annoyed and I said to the doctor:
You shouldn’t tell us these things. She became even more irritated, she
exclaimed: I’m telling you because we’re among friends. But then, stung, she
assumed the tone of the doctor and said with an affected seriousness that if
we loved Lila we should (she meant Nino and me, obviously) help her
concentrate on something that truly gave her satisfaction, otherwise, with
her dancing brain (she used precisely that expression), she would get herself
and those around her in trouble. Finally, she repeated that in the delivery
room she had seen a struggle against nature, a terrible clash between a
mother and her child. It was, she said, a truly unpleasant experience.
莉拉生的是一个女儿，而不是像所有人预测的那样是个男孩。当我抽身去诊所看她时，尽管她看起来精疲力竭，但还是满脸自豪地给我展示了她女儿。她问：
The infant was a girl, a girl and not a
boy as everyone had predicted. When I was able to go to the clinic, Lila,
although she was exhausted, showed me her daughter proudly. She asked:
“伊玛生出来的时候多重？”
“How much did Imma weigh?”
“六斤四两。”
“Seven pounds.”
“农齐亚几乎有八斤：我肚子很小，但她却很大。”
“Nunzia weighs almost nine pounds: my
belly was small but she is large.”
她真的给孩子取了她母亲的名字。为了不让她父亲费尔南多生气，他年轻时脾气就很不好，现在越老就越易怒，也为了让恩佐的亲戚高兴，她给孩子在城区的教堂里举行了洗礼，然后在“Basic
Sight”公司里举行了一场聚会。
She really had named her for her mother.
And in order not to upset Fernando, her father, who was even more irascible
in old age than he’d been as a young man, and Enzo’s relatives, she had her
baptized in the neighborhood church and held a big party in the Basic Sight
offices.
68
两个新生儿让我们有更多机会待在一起。莉拉和我经常打电话，我们带着两个孩子出去散步，自由自在地交谈，但不再是说我们自己的事，而是聊孩子。实际上，我们之间关系的丰富复杂，开始通过我们对两个孩子的关注得到展示。我们比较她们的每个细节，就好像要让她们俩成为彼此的镜子，好与不好都清清楚楚，这样我们就能马上作出反应，好的地方要保持，不好的地方要马上改。我们相互交流那些对于孩子健康成长有用的东西，我们之间产生了一种良性竞争，看谁能发现更有营养的食品、更舒适的尿布、更好用的护臀膏。莉拉给农齐亚买的任何好看的衣服，也都给伊玛也买一件。我呢，在经济允许的情况下，我也会给蒂娜买一套。现在莉拉叫她女儿“蒂娜”。莉拉会说，蒂娜喜欢这个玩具，她给伊玛也买了一个，蒂娜穿这双鞋子合适，她给伊玛也买了一双。
The babies immediately became an excuse
to spend more time together. Lila and I talked on the phone, met to take them
for a walk, spoke endlessly, no longer about ourselves but about them. Or at
least so it seemed to us. In reality a new richness and complexity in our
relationship began to manifest itself through a mutual attention to our
daughters. We compared them in every detail as if to assure ourselves that
the health or illness of the one was the precise mirror of the health or
illness of the other and as a result we could readily intervene to reinforce
the first and cut off the second. We told each other everything that seemed
good and useful for healthy development, engaging in a sort of virtuous
competition of who could find the best food, the softest diaper, the most
effective cream for a rash. There was no pretty garment acquired for
Nunzia—but now she was called Tina, the diminutive of Nunziatina—that Lila
did not also get for Imma, and I, within the limits of my finances, did the
same. This onesie was cute on Tina, so I got one for Imma, too—she’d say—or
these shoes were cute on Tina and I got some for Imma, too.
“你知道吗？”有一天，我用愉快的语气对她说，“你给你女儿起了我的娃娃的名字？”
“You know,” I said one day, smiling,
“that you’ve given her the name of my doll?”
“什么娃娃？”
“What doll?”
“蒂娜，你不记得了吗？”
“Tina, you don’t remember?”
她摸了摸额头，就好像她头疼一样，她说：
She touched her forehead as if she had a
headache, and said:
“真的，但我是无意的。”
“It’s true, but I didn’t do it on
purpose.”
“那是一个很漂亮的娃娃，我很喜欢。”
“She was a beautiful doll—I was attached
to her.”
“我女儿更漂亮。”
“My daughter is more beautiful.”
时间过得飞快，又过了几个星期，已经能闻到春天的气息了。有一天早上，我母亲病重了，大家一阵恐慌，连我的两个弟弟都觉得诊所的大夫已经束手无策了。他们想让我母亲去医院。我和尼诺谈了这件事情，就是想问清楚，通过那些和他认识的教授——之前给我母亲诊治的那些医生，能不能让我母亲有一个独立病房，而不只是一个床位。但尼诺说，他反对这种走后门或者找熟人的做法，在公共卫生服务方面，大家应该受到同样的待遇。他很生气地说：“在这个国家，需要停止这种想法，就是为了医院的一个病床，也要想着找熟人，或者求助于克莫拉分子。”他针对的不是我，而是马尔切洛，这一点我知道，但我还是很沮丧。从另一个方面来说，假如我母亲愿意去医院，我知道他一定会帮助我的。但实际上，我母亲虽然非常痛苦，但她的态度很明确：她宁可在这个舒适的环境里死去，也不愿意回医院病房，哪怕只是几个小时。就这样，一天早上，让我们又一次感到震惊的是，马尔切洛陪着一位专家来到了诊所，就是当时在医院给我母亲治病的那些医生中的一个。这位教授在医院里态度很粗暴，但在这里他变得非常和蔼，而且还经常过来，这个私人诊所的医生对他也充满敬意，我母亲的状况好了很多。
Meanwhile the weeks passed; already the
scents of spring were flaring. One morning my mother got worse, and there was
a moment of panic. Since the doctors at the clinic didn’t seem qualified even
to my siblings, the idea of taking her back to the hospital was mentioned. I
asked Nino to find out if, through the doctors who were connected to his
in-laws and had taken care of my mother before, it would be possible to avoid
the wards and get a private room. But Nino said that he was opposed to using
connections or appeals, that in a public institution treatment should be the
same for everyone, and he muttered ill-humoredly: in this country we have to
stop thinking that even for a bed in the hospital you have to be a member of
a lodge or rely on the Camorra. He was angry with Marcello, naturally, not
with me, but I felt humiliated anyway. On the other hand I’m sure that in the
end he would have helped if my mother, although suffering atrociously, hadn’t
made it clear in every way possible that she preferred to die amid comforts
rather than return, even for a few hours, to a hospital ward. So one morning
Marcello, surprising us yet again, brought to the clinic one of the
specialists who had treated our mother. The specialist, who had been curt
when he was working in the hospital, was extremely cordial and returned
often, greeted deferentially by the doctors in the private clinic. Things
improved.
很快，诊所的情况又变得很复杂。我母亲用尽了她最后的一点儿力气，做了两件相互矛盾的事，但这两件事在她眼里同样重要。因为正好是在那几天，莉拉在巴亚诺一个客户的公司那里，找到了安置佩佩和詹尼的位子，但他们根本就不理会这个工作机会。我母亲无数次感谢了我的朋友莉拉的慷慨，她把两个儿子叫到病床前，在这次时间比较长的会面里，有几分钟，她又回到了先前的样子。她的眼里充满了怒火，她说，假如他们没有接受那份工作，那她死了也会回来找他们，让他们不得安生。总之，她让我的两个弟弟哭得像小羊羔，直到他们答应了，才放他们走。这时候，她做了另一件截然相反的事。她把马尔切洛叫来——她刚把佩佩和詹尼从他那里弄走，她让马尔切洛庄严发誓，在她闭眼之前，他会娶她的小女儿。马尔切洛向她庄严保证，他说，他和埃莉莎推迟了婚礼，只是因为他们想等着她康复，现在她快要康复了，他们会尽快办手续。她对于莉拉和马尔切洛一视同仁。我母亲放心了，她很高兴，为了她的孩子的好，她对我们城区的两个最重要的人物施加压力并和他们挂上钩了：在她眼里，他们是这个世界上最重要的人物。
But soon the clinical picture worsened
again. At that point my mother gathered all her strength and did two
contradictory but in her eyes equally important things. Lila just then had
found a way of getting jobs for Peppe and Gianni with a client of hers in
Baiano, but they had disregarded the offer, so she—heaping blessings on my
friend for her generosity—summoned her two sons and became, at least for a
moment, what she had been in the past. Her eyes were furious, she threatened
to pursue them from the kingdom of the dead if they didn’t accept the offer:
she made them weep, she reduced them to lambs, she didn’t let go until she
was sure she had subdued them. Then she took up an initiative that ran in the
opposite direction. She summoned Marcello, from whom she had just wrested
Peppe and Gianni, and made him swear solemnly that he would marry her younger
daughter before she closed her eyes forever. Marcello reassured her, he told
her that he and Elisa had put off getting married only because they were waiting
for her to recover, and now that her recovery was imminent he would
immediately take care of the paperwork. Now my mother brightened. She made no
distinction between the power she attributed to Lila and that which she
attributed to Marcello. She had pressured both and was happy to have gained
benefits for her children from the most important people in the neighborhood;
that is, in her view, in the world.
有那么一两天，她都很平静愉快。我把黛黛带去看她，她很爱黛黛，我让伊玛躺在她怀里，她甚至对一直都不喜欢的艾尔莎也很热情。我看着她，虽然她只有六十岁，而不是一百岁，但她已经成了一个满脸皱纹、头发灰白的老太太。我第一次感觉到时间的冲击，一股力量正把我推向四十岁，同时也感觉到生命消耗的速度，死亡来临的事实。我想，假如死亡降临在她身上，没有出路，死亡也会降临到我头上。
For a few days she lingered in a state of
peaceful joy. I brought Dede, whom she loved dearly, and I let her hold Imma.
She was even affectionate toward Elsa, whom she had never liked much. I
observed her: she was a gray, wrinkled old woman, even though she wasn’t a
hundred but sixty. I then first felt the impact of time, the force that was
pushing me toward forty, the velocity with which life was consumed, the
concreteness of the exposure to death: If it’s happening to her, I thought,
there’s no escape, it will happen to me as well.
伊玛才两个月多一点儿，有一天早上，我母亲用虚弱的声音对我说：“莱农，现在我真的很高兴，我唯一放心不下的人是你，但你是你，我知道，你能让事情按照你的想法来，所以我相信你。”然后她睡了过去，陷入昏迷，她不想死，她还坚持了几天。我记得，当时我和伊玛在她的房间里，她临终的喘息一直在持续，已经成了诊所的各种声音的一部分。我父亲已经受不了这个声音了，他一个人在家里哭。埃莉莎带着西尔维奥去院子里呼吸新鲜空气，我的两个弟弟在隔壁一个小房间里抽烟。我长时间盯着床单下面她瘦小身子的轮廓，我母亲现在就剩下一把骨头了。她以前体型庞大，一直压制着我，让我感觉到自己像一块石头下面的虫子，受到保护的同时也受到挤压。我希望她的呻吟能结束，马上，就在那一刻。让我惊异的是，我的祈祷变成了现实，整个房间忽然安静下来了。我坐在那里，没力气起身走到她跟前，这时候，伊玛吧唧嘴的声音打破了寂静。我离开椅子，来到我母亲床边。我们俩一起，我和小伊玛——她在睡梦中还在贪婪地寻找我的乳头，还想和我紧紧连在一起，我们俩在那个病房里，她是那个最鲜活、最健康的生命。
One morning, when Imma was just over two
months old, my mother said weakly: Lenù, I’m truly content now, it’s only you
I’m worried about, but you are you and you’ve always been able to arrange
things as you liked, so I have confidence. Then she went to sleep and fell
into a coma. She held out for a few more days; she didn’t want to die. I
remember that I was in her room with Imma; by now the death rattle was
continuous, it had become one of the ordinary sounds of the clinic. My
father, who couldn’t bear to hear it anymore, had stayed home that night,
weeping. Elisa had taken Silvio out to the courtyard to get some air, my
brothers were smoking in a room nearby. I stared for a long time at that
insubstantial bulge under the sheet. My mother was diminished almost to
nothing, and yet she had been truly burdensome, weighing on me, making me
feel like a worm under a rock, protected and crushed. I wished that wheeze
would stop, right away, now, and, to my surprise, it did. Suddenly the room
was silent. I waited, I couldn’t find the strength to get up and go to her.
Then Imma clicked her tongue and the silence was broken. I left the chair,
went over to the bed. The two of us—I and the infant, greedily seeking my
nipple in her sleep, to feel that she was still part of me—were, in that
place of illness, the only living and healthy part of my mother that
remained.
不知道为什么，那天我戴着大约二十年前母亲送给我的银镯子，我已经很长时间没有戴它了，通常，我都会戴一些阿黛尔建议我买的精致首饰。从那天起，我经常都戴着那个手镯。
That day, I don’t know why, I had put on
the bracelet she had given me more than twenty years before. I hadn’t worn it
for a long time; I usually wore the finer jewelry that Adele had recommended.
From then on I wore it often.
69
尽管我一滴眼泪都没流，但我很难接受母亲的死。很长时间里，我都很难过，可能那种痛苦一直都没真正离开。我一直认为，她是一个麻木、粗俗的女人，我很怕她，一直都想远离她。在她的葬礼结束之后，我感觉好像忽然下起了一场大雨，看看周围，没有一个可以躲雨的地方。有好几个星期，无论白天还是夜里，我感觉到处都是她的影子，到处都是她的声音。那就像一股青烟，漂浮在我的脑海里，没有任何导火索也会燃烧起来。我很懊悔，在她生病时，我才找到了另一种和她相处的办法，我甚至回忆起了我小时候，她还年轻时的一些愉快的时刻。我的愧疚感让怀念一直在持续，我在抽屉里放了她的一个发卡、一块手帕，还有小剪刀，但我觉得这还不够，戴着她的手镯也还不够。也可能是因为这个原因，在我怀孕时，我的胯部又开始疼了，生产完之后那疼痛还没消失，我选择不去看医生，我保留着身体的疼痛，就像那是我母亲给我的遗产。
I struggled to accept my mother’s death.
Even though I didn’t shed a tear, the pain lasted for a long time and perhaps
has never really gone away. I had considered her an insensitive and vulgar
woman, I had feared her and fled. Right after her funeral I felt the way you
feel when it suddenly starts raining hard, and you look around and find no
place to take shelter. For weeks I saw and heard her everywhere, night and
day. She was a vapor that in my imagination continued to burn without a wick.
I missed the different way of being together we had discovered during her
illness, I prolonged it by retrieving positive memories of when I was a child
and she was young. My sense of guilt wanted to compel her to endure. In a
drawer I put a hairpin of hers, a handkerchief, a pair of scissors, but they
all seemed inadequate objects, even the bracelet was worthless. My pregnancy
had brought back the pain in my hip and Imma’s birth hadn’t relieved it, but
maybe that was why I decided not to go to the doctor. I nurtured that pain
like a bequest preserved in my body.
还有她最后给我说的那些话（“我相信你”），也陪伴了我很长时间。她临死时确信：按照我的性格，还有我积累的资源，我不会被任何东西摧毁。这种想法一直在我的脑子里回响，后来真的起了作用。我决定向她证明，她说得对，我打起精神，严格要求自己，开始利用那些空暇读书写作。我对那些琐碎的政治失去了兴趣——五个政党联合起来统治这个国家，它们和意大利Communist的争执，这都是尼诺积极参与的事情，我无论如何都打不起精神，但我继续关注这个国家的暴力和腐败问题。我一直在阅读女性主义的资料，我最后一本小书的影响还在，我给针对女性读者的新杂志投稿。但我得承认，我的主要精力都用来让我的出版社相信，我的新小说已经写得差不多了。
The words she had said to me at the end
(You’re you, I have confidence) also stayed with me for a long time. She died
convinced that because of how I was made, because of the resources I had
accumulated, I would not be overwhelmed by anything. That idea worked inside
me and in the end helped me. I decided to prove to her that she had been
right. I began again in a disciplined way to take care of myself. I returned
to using every bit of empty time for reading and writing. I lost what little
interest I’d had in petty politics—I couldn’t get excited at the intrigues of
the five governing parties and their quarrels with the Communists, as Nino
now was actively doing—but I continued to follow closely the corrupt and
violent drift of the country. I collected feminist readings and, still
fortified by the small success of my last book, proposed articles to the new
journals directed at women. But, I have to admit, a great part of my energy
was focused on convincing my publisher that I was moving along with the new
novel.
大约两年前，出版社给我预支了一半稿费，那是很大一笔钱，但我自己这两年基本一事无成，我感觉很吃力，还在寻找素材。那个主编，就是给我预支了那笔钱的人，从来都没给我施压，他每次都小心翼翼地询问我工作进展，假如我避而不谈，那他也不深究。因为要说实话的话，我会觉得很丢脸。后来发生了一件不愉快的事情，在《晚邮报》上出现了一篇带有讽刺色彩的文章，里面赞扬了一部处女作获得的成功，然后提到了我的名字，说整个意大利青年文学还在等着我许诺的那本书。几天后，我的主编经过那不勒斯，他来参加一个盛大的研讨会，他要求见我。
A few years earlier half of a substantial
advance had been paid, but in the meantime I had done very little, I was
stumbling along, still looking for a story. The editor in chief, who was
responsible for that generous sum, had never pressured me, he inquired
discreetly, and if I was elusive, because to admit the truth seemed to me
shameful, he let me be elusive. Then a small unpleasant event occurred. A
semi-sarcastic article appeared in the Corriere della Sera that, after
praising a first novel that had had a modest success, alluded to the failed
promise of the new Italian literature, and included my name. A few days later
the editor passed through Naples—he was to take part in a prestigious
conference—and asked if we could meet.
他严肃的语气马上就让我很担心，在将近十五年的合作中，他从来都没让我感到压力。他站在我这一边，对付阿黛尔的阻挠，他一直对我都很客气。我做出一副愉快的样子，邀请他到塔索街上的家里来吃饭，这让我很不安，也很辛苦，但我请他来家里，是因为尼诺想出版一本新的杂文集。主编的态度很客气，但没表露出多余的情感，他对我母亲的去世表示哀悼，然后赞扬了伊玛，送给黛黛和艾尔莎几本色彩非常鲜艳的小书。他耐心地等着我弄完饭菜，照料几个孩子，我让尼诺和他谈那本想要出的书。后来，到了这次会面的关键环节，他说他想知道，他能不能做计划，在那年秋天出版我的小说。
His serious tone immediately worried me.
In almost fifteen years he had never insisted on his authority, he had sided
with me against Adele, he had always treated me kindly. With forced warmth I
invited him to dinner on Via Tasso, which cost me anxiety and hard work, but
I did it partly because Nino wanted to propose a new collection of essays.
我脸红了，问道：
The editor was polite but not
affectionate. He expressed his condolences for my mother, he praised Imma, he
gave Dede and Elsa some colorful books, he waited patiently for me to
maneuver between dinner and daughters, leaving Nino to talk to him about his
possible book. When we got to dessert he brought up the true reason for the
meeting: he wanted to know if he could plan to bring out my novel the
following fall. I turned red.
“一九八二年秋天？”
“Fall of 1982?”
“是一九八二年秋天。”
“Fall of 1982.”
“也许可以，我还以为晚些时候呢。”
“Maybe, but I’ll know better in a little
while.”
“你现在知道就好。”
“You have to know now.”
“但我距离收尾还有点儿时间。”
“I’m still nowhere near the end.”
“你可以先让我看看你写的。”
“You could let me read something.”
“我还没准备好。”
“I don’t feel ready.”
他沉默了，喝了一小口葡萄酒，用一种严肃的语气说：
Silence. He took a sip of wine, then said
in a serious tone:
“埃莱娜，到现在为止，你一直很幸运，上一本书的反响尤其好，你赢得了声誉，也赢得了很多读者，但这些读者需要经营，假如你失去他们，你也失去了出版其他书的可能。”
“Up to now you’ve been very lucky, Elena.
The last book went particularly well, you’re respected, you’ve gained a good
number of readers. But readers have to be cultivated. If you lose them, you
lose the chance to publish other books.”
我觉得很难过。我明白，阿黛尔一次次的抗争，已经影响到了这个非常有文化、彬彬有礼的男人。我想象着彼得罗母亲的话，她的措辞：“这是一个非常不可靠的南方女人，表面上看起来很可爱，但却精于算计，会骗人。”我痛恨我自己，因为在这个主编面前，我正好证实了这些话。面对桌上的甜点，主编用短短几句话就拒绝了尼诺的提议，他说，现在出版杂文很难。大家都有些尴尬，不知道要说什么。我谈到了伊玛，直到我的客人抬起手腕看表，说他要走了。这时候我忍不住说：
I was displeased. I understood that
Adele, by force of repetition, had gotten through even to that very civilized
and polite man. I imagined the words of Pietro’s mother, her choice of
terms—She’s an untrustworthy southerner who behind a charming appearance
weaves crafty tissues of lies—and I hated myself because I was proving to
that man that those words were true. At dessert, the editor, in a few curt
phrases, liquidated Nino’s proposal, saying that it was a difficult moment
for essays. The awkwardness increased, no one knew what to say, I talked
about Imma until finally the guest looked at his watch and said that he had
to go. At that point I couldn’t take it and I said:
“好吧，我会准时交稿，保证在秋季出来。”
“All right, I’ll deliver the book in time
for it to come out in the fall.”
70
我的保证让主编放心了，他又待了一个小时，海阔天空地聊了起来，他很努力地对尼诺的书表现出兴趣。最后在告别时，他拥抱了我，在我耳边说：“我确信，你正在写一个很棒的故事。”
My promise soothed the editor. He stayed
another hour, he chatted about this and that, he made an effort to be more
well disposed to Nino. He embraced me as he left, whispering, I’m sure you’re
writing a wonderful story.
门在我身后关上了，我叹了一口气说：“阿黛尔还在继续和我作对，我麻烦大了。”但尼诺表示不同意，他的书有一点渺茫的希望可以出版，也让他的心情好了起来。另外，他刚刚去巴勒莫参加了一场意大利社会党的大会，他遇到了圭多·艾罗塔和阿黛尔，圭多对他最近写的一些东西表示很欣赏。因此，他说了一句和解的话：
As soon as I closed the door I exclaimed:
Adele is still plotting against me, I’m in trouble. But Nino didn’t agree.
Even the slim possibility that his book would be published had cheered him.
Besides, he had been in Palermo recently for the Socialist Party Congress,
where he had seen both Guido and Adele, and the professor had indicated that
he admired some of his recent work. So he said, conciliatory:
“你不要夸大艾罗塔家的影响力，你刚才只是答应了主编你会开始好好工作，写你的书，你看到他的态度变化了吧？”
“Don’t exaggerate the intrigues of the
Airotas. All you had to do was promise you’d get to work and you saw how
things changed?”
我们吵了一架。是的，我刚刚答应交出一本书，但我怎么交，我什么时候写这本书，我有那种专注力和时间吗？他有没有意识到，我之前是什么生活，现在是什么处境？我口不择言给他列举了我经历的一切，我母亲生病去世，我要照顾黛黛和艾尔莎，做家务，怀孕，伊玛的出生，他对这个孩子的漠不关心，他总是不带我一个人到处参加各种研讨会。还有那种恶心感，是的，的确很恶心，我要和埃利奥诺拉一起分享他。我对着他喊道，我已经彻底和彼得罗离婚了，你想都没有想过和你妻子分居。我一个人，没有他的帮助，我能在这么多压力下工作吗。
We quarreled. I had just promised a book,
yes, but how, when would I be able to write it with the necessary
concentration and continuity? Did he realize what my life had been, and still
was? I listed randomly the illness and death of my mother, the care of Dede
and Elsa, the household tasks, the pregnancy, the birth of Imma, his lack of
interest in her, the rushing from this conference to that congress, more and
more often without me, and the disgust, yes, the disgust at having to share
him with Eleonora. I, I shouted at him, I am now nearly divorced from Pietro,
and you wouldn’t even separate. Could I work among so many tensions, by
myself, without any help from him?
我嚷嚷也没什么用，尼诺的反应和往常一样。他做出一副沮丧的样子，嘟哝着说：“你不明白的，你也不会明白，你对我不公平。”然后他用一种沉痛的语气向我发誓，说他爱我，他离不开伊玛、黛黛和艾尔莎，还有我。最后，他提出为我请一个保姆。
The fight was pointless, Nino reacted as
he always did. He looked depressed, he whispered: You don’t understand, you
can’t understand, you’re unfair, and he swore fiercely that he loved me and
couldn’t do without Imma, the children, me. Finally he offered to pay for a
housekeeper.
早些时候，他已经建议我找一个人来照顾孩子，买东西做饭。我不想让他觉得我要求太高，我总是说，我不想增加不必要的经济负担。通常，我做任何事情都倾向与侧重于考虑他是否会喜欢，而不是我自己高兴。还有，我不想承认，在我们的关系中已经出现了我和彼得罗在一起时出现过的问题。但那次让他惊讶的是，我马上回答说：“好的，太好了，你赶紧找一个人吧。”我感觉我是用我母亲的声音在说话，不是她临终前那种虚弱的声音，而是那种爱争吵、易怒的声音。花钱算什么，我应该关心自己的未来，我的未来就是在短短的几个月里完成一本小说，这本小说应该很棒。没有任何东西，包括尼诺，可以阻止我写好这本书。
He had encouraged me on other occasions
to find someone who could take care of the house, the shopping, the cooking,
the children, but, in order not to seem excessively demanding, I had always
responded that I didn’t want to be a bigger economic burden than necessary.
Generally I tended to give more importance not to what would be helpful to me
but to what he would appreciate. And then I didn’t want to admit that the
same problems I had already experienced with Pietro were surfacing in our
relationship. But this time, surprising him, I said immediately: Yes, all
right, find this woman as soon as possible. And it seemed to me that I was
speaking in the voice of my mother, not in the feeble voice of recent times
but in strident tones. Who gave a damn about the shopping, I had to take care
of my future. And my future was to write a novel in the next few months. And
that novel had to be very good. And nothing, not even Nino, would prevent me
from doing my work well.
71
我仔细审视了一下自己的处境，之前的两本书，加上翻译的版本，给我带来了一些钱，但我已经有很长时间没有收入了。收到的新书预付款已经快要用完了。我晚上熬夜写的文章，要么稿费极少，要么完全没有稿酬。总之，我是靠彼得罗每月定期给我汇的抚养费，还有尼诺的补贴过活。尼诺会把房租、水电费付了，我得承认，他经常还给我和几个孩子买衣服。刚回到那不勒斯时，我不得不面对的变化，还有各种不方便和痛苦，我都觉得很正常。现在呢？编辑到访的那晚让我决定尽快变得独立。我要定期发表东西，拿出作家的样子，我要赚钱，但原因并不是出于对文学的热爱，而是和我的未来有关：我真的以为，尼诺会一直照顾我和我的几个女儿吗？
I examined the situation. The two
previous books, which for years had produced a little money, partly thanks to
translations, had stopped selling. The advance I had received for my new book
and hadn’t yet earned was nearly gone. The articles I wrote, working late
into the night, either brought in little or were not paid at all. I lived, in
other words, on the money that Pietro contributed punctually every month and
that Nino supplemented by taking on the rent for the house, the bills, and, I
have to admit, often giving me money for clothes for myself and the children.
But as long as I had had to confront all the upheavals and inconveniences and
sufferings that followed my return to Naples, it had seemed fair. Now
instead—after that evening—I decided that it was urgent to become as
autonomous as possible. I had to write and publish regularly, I had to
reinforce my profile as an author, I had to earn money. And the reason was
not any literary vocation, the reason had to do with the future: Did I really
think that Nino would take care of me and my daughters forever?
这时候，我开始慢慢形成了一种意识——但不是很清晰，我觉得我不用太考虑他，我并没感觉到太痛苦。那不仅仅是之前的一种担忧，担心他会离开我，而是一种视角的变化。我不再想很远的事情，我开始考虑当下的事儿，我不能期待着尼诺给我更多，而是我自己要掂量一下，他给的够不够。
It was then that a part of me—only a
part—began to emerge that consciously, without particular suffering, admitted
that it couldn’t really count on him. It wasn’t just the old fear that he
would leave me; rather it seemed to me an abrupt contraction of perspective.
I stopped looking into the distance, I began to think that in the immediate
future I couldn’t expect from Nino more than what he was giving me, and that
I had to decide if it was enough.
当然了，我依然爱他，我喜欢他修长纤细的身体、他的聪明，还有他思考问题的方式。我很欣赏他现在的工作，他之前搜集数据并进行分析的能力，现在非常符合社会的需求。最近，他发表了一篇备受欣赏的文章——可能是圭多·艾罗塔比较喜欢的那篇，是关于经济危机的。文章从危机源头开始，谈到了建筑、金融和私人电视行业，说这都是需要探察的问题。然而，我开始感觉到，他身上有一种我厌烦的东西。比如说，我前夫的父亲赦免了他之后，他表现出来的欣喜让我很难受。我也不喜欢他把彼得罗和他父亲撇开关系，他觉得彼得罗是一个“缺乏想象力的小老师，他备受追捧，只是因为他是艾罗塔家的儿子，他对于Communist的追随也很盲目”，而他父亲是一个真正的教授，他不遗余力地赞扬我之前的公公，说他写的关于“希腊化时期”的著作是其奠基之作，另外他还是社会党左派的杰出代表。他又一次对阿黛尔表现出来的赞赏，也让我心里很不痛快，他说阿黛尔是一位真正的名媛，在社交方面无与伦比。总之，我觉得他对权威的认同很敏感，而另一方面，他会因为嫉妒排斥或者羞辱那些还没有权威，或者权威很小但有可能取得成功的人。这让他在我心目中的形象，还有他维护的自我形象遭到了破坏。
I continued to love him, of course. I
liked his long slender body, his methodical intelligence. And I had a great
admiration for his work. His old ability to assemble facts and interpret them
was a skill that was much in demand. Recently he had published a highly
regarded work—maybe that was the one Guido had liked so much—on the economic
crisis and on the karstic movement of capital that was being shifted from
sources to be investigated toward construction, finance, private television.
Yet something about him had begun to bother me. For example, I was wounded by
his delight in finding favor with my former father-in-law. Nor did I like the
way he had begun again to differentiate Pietro—a petty professor with no
imagination, highly praised only because of his surname and his obtuse
activity in the Communist Party—from his father, the real Professor Airota,
whom he praised unrestrainedly as the author of fundamental volumes on
Hellenism and as an outstanding and combative figure of the socialist left. His
renewed liking for Adele further wounded me; he was constantly calling her a
great lady, extraordinary at public relations. He seemed to me, in other
words, sensitive to the approval of those who had authority and ready to
catch out, or even, at times, humiliate, out of envy, those who did not yet
have enough of it and those who did not have it at all but could have it.
Something that marred the image that I had always had of him and that he
generally had of himself.
但事情不仅仅是这些，当时的政治和文化氛围正在发生变化，人们的阅读趣味发生了变化。我们都不再说一些极端的话，让我自己也感到惊异的是，我开始认同几年前和彼得罗吵架时我找茬贴到他身上的标签。但尼诺比我更过分，他不仅仅认为，任何革命性、破坏旧世界的观点都很滑稽，他也觉得任何自我标榜道德高尚的姿态很可笑。他用开玩笑的语气对我说：
It wasn’t only that. The political and
cultural climate was changing, other readings were emerging. We had all
stopped making extreme speeches, and I was surprised to find myself agreeing
with positions that years earlier I had opposed in Pietro, out of a wish to
contradict him, out of the need to quarrel. But Nino went too far, he now
found ridiculous not only every subversive statement but also every ethical
declaration, every display of purity. He said, making fun of me:
“社会上有太多傻人。”
“There are too many sensitive souls
around.”
“也就是说？”
“Meaning?”
“就是些大惊小怪的人，就好像他们不知道，那些党派各自为政，或者他们会把武装分子还有秘密组织掩盖起来。”
“People who are outraged, as if they
didn’t know that either the parties do their job or you get armed gangs and
Masonic lodges.”
“你想说什么？”
“What do you mean?”
“我想说，一个党派只能通过给别人好处来换取支持，那些理想主义都是装饰。”
“I mean that a party can’t be anything
other than a distributor of favors in exchange for support, ideals are part
of the furniture.”
“好吧，那我就是一个傻子。”
“Well, then I’m a sensitive soul.”
“这我知道。”
“I know that.”
我开始觉得，在政治上，他哗众取宠的言行让我很不舒服。当他邀请客人来家里吃晚饭时，他会从左派的立场，提出右派的观点，让那些客人很尴尬。他说，法西斯并不是说的都没道理，要和学会和他们对话。或者说，假如我们要改变现状，就不能一味批判，也需要亲手去实践。或者说，假如不希望法官成为民主系统的地雷，法律很快就会顺应那些当权者的需求。或者说，需要控制薪水上涨，那种阶梯式的工资机制会毁掉意大利。假如有人对他说的提出反对，他就会充满鄙夷地冷笑起来，会让人觉得，他不愿意和那些目光短浅、脑子里只有一些过时口号的人进行讨论。
I began to find his craving to be
politically surprising unpleasant. When he organized dinners at my house he
embarrassed his own guests by defending from the left positions of the right.
The fascists—he maintained—aren’t always wrong and we should learn to talk to
each other. Or: You can’t simply condemn, you have to get your hands dirty if
you want to change things. Or even: Justice should as soon as possible be
subordinated to the rights of those who have the task of governing, otherwise
the judges become loose cannons, dangerous for the preservation of the
democratic system. Or again: Wages have to be frozen, the mechanism of the
wage index scale is ruinous for Italy. If someone disagreed with him he
became contemptuous, he sneered, he let it be understood that it wasn’t worth
the trouble to argue with people wearing blinders, whose heads were full of
old slogans.
为了不和客人站在同一条阵线上反对他的观点，我很不自在地沉默下来了。他喜欢现在这种不稳定的局势，他的未来就取决于这一点。他了解党内还有议会上发生的一切，他了解资本和劳动组织的所有内部活动。但我只看到了很多恐怖事件的报道，红色武装分子制造的血腥事件和绑架，还有关于工人的主导地位不复存在，形成了一些新的反抗者的论点。结果，我通常都是和其他人，而不是和他站在同一条阵线上。有一天晚上，他和一个在建筑系教书的朋友吵了起来。他头发凌乱，充满激情，看起来很英俊。
I retreated into an uneasy silence, in
order not to take sides against him. He loved the shifting sands of the
present, the future for him was decided there. He knew about everything that
happened in the parties and in parliament, about the internal movements of
capital and of the organization of labor. I, on the other hand, persisted in
reading only what had to do with the dark conspiracies, the kidnappings and
bloody last-ditch efforts of the armed red gangs, the debate on the decline
of the centrality of workers, the identification of new opposition subjects.
As a result I felt more comfortable with the language of the other diners
than with his. One evening he quarreled with a friend who taught in the
school of architecture. He became inflamed by passion, disheveled, handsome.
“你们没办法区分向前一步、退后一步，或者停步不前这三者之间的关系。”
“You can’t distinguish between a step
forward, a step back, and standing still.”
“向前一步指的是什么？”这个朋友问。
“What’s a step forward?” the friend
asked.
“就是国家总理不再是通常的天民党的人。”
“A prime minister who isn’t the same old
Christian Demo-crat.”
“那停步不前指的是什么？”
“And standing still?”
“冶金工人的一场游行。”
“A demonstration by steelworkers.”
“后退一步是什么？”
“And a step back?”
“就是要搞清楚，社会党和Communist哪个干净。”
“Asking who’s cleaner, the socialists or
the Communists.”
“你现在越来越犬儒了。”
“You’re turning cynical.”
“但你一直都很混！”
“You, on the other hand, have always been
a shit.”
不，尼诺已经不像之前那样可以说服我了，我不知道为什么，他在表达自己时会用一种很挑衅，但同时又态度暧昧的方式。他在突出自己的远见，就好像他能看到国家管理的各个步骤，但在我还有他的朋友们眼里，这个国家好像已经从根子上坏了。他还在坚持：“我们不要再那么天真地反对权力了，我们要身处那些有生有死、新旧交替的地方：党派、银行、电视。”我听他说这些，但他对我说话时，我会垂下眼睛。他的话让我很厌烦，我已经无法掩饰这一点了，我觉得他的态度很松散，这正在降低他的格调。
No, Nino no longer persuaded me the way
he used to. He expressed himself, I don’t know how to say it, in a
provocative and yet opaque way, as if precisely he, who extolled the long
view, were able to follow only the daily moves and counter-moves of a system
that to me, to his own friends, seemed rotten to the core. Enough, he would
insist, let’s end the childish aversion to power: one has to be on the inside
in the places where things are born and die: the parties, the banks,
television. And I listened, but when he turned to me I lowered my gaze. I no
longer concealed from myself that his conversation partly bored me, and
partly seemed to point to a brittleness that dragged him down.
有一次，他也对黛黛这样说话，因为老师给她布置了一个很离奇的作业，让她做个调查。
One time he was lecturing Dede, who had
to do some sort of crazy research for her teacher,
为了中和一下他的实用主义，我说：
and to soften his pragmatism I said:
“黛黛，人们总有把一切都摧毁的可能。”
“The people, Dede, always have the
possibility of turning everything upside down.”
他满脸笑容地反驳说：“你妈妈喜欢编故事，这是一个很棒的工作。但她不知道我们生活的这个世界是怎么运作的，每次她不喜欢什么东西，就会求助于一个神奇的句子：我们把一切都摧毁吧！你要告诉你老师，说我们要让现有的世界好好运转。”
Good-humoredly he replied, “Mamma likes
to make up stories, which is a great job. But she doesn’t know much about how
the world we live in functions, and so whenever there’s something she doesn’t
like she resorts to a magic word: let’s turn everything upside down. You tell
your teacher that we have to make the world that exists function.”
“怎么才能做到？”我问。
“How?” I asked.
“通过法律。”
“With laws.”
“比如你说要控制那些法官。”
“But if you say that the judges should be
controlled.”
他摇了摇头，对我很不满，就像以前彼得罗的态度一样。
Displeased with me, he shook his head,
just as Pietro used to do.
“你赶紧去写你的书吧。”他说，“否则，你又说是因为我们的缘故，你没法工作。”
“Go and write your book,” he said,
“otherwise you’ll complain it’s our fault that you can’t work.”
他给黛黛讲了三权分立的事情，我默默地听了一会儿，觉得他说的每个字都有道理。
He started a lesson with Dede on the
division of powers, which I listened to in silence and agreed with from A to
Z.
72
尼诺在家时，他会和黛黛还有艾尔莎一起，搞一场非常滑稽的仪式。他们会把我拉到放着我的写字台的小房间，非常郑重其事地让我坐下来工作，他们关上房门，假如我要敢打开门的话，他们会齐声指责我。
When Nino was home he staged a comic
ritual with Dede and Elsa. They dragged me into the little room where I had
my desk, ordered me peremptorily to get to work, and shut the door behind
them, scolding me in chorus if I dared to open it.
通常，假如有时间，他会非常耐心地照顾几个孩子。他对黛黛很好，他觉得黛黛非常聪明，但过于死板，艾尔莎让他很开心，因为她顺从的外表下面其实是狡黠和邪恶。我所希望的事却从来都没有发生，他和小伊玛不是那么亲密。他也会陪着伊玛玩儿，有时候看起来很开心。比如说，他和黛黛还有艾尔莎，会围着伊玛学狗叫，想让她说“狗”这个词。我绞尽脑汁地想写点儿东西，我听见他们在家里汪汪叫，假如伊玛咿咿呀呀，发出一个听起来像“狗”的音，尼诺会和两个孩子异口同声地叫喊起来：“她说了‘狗’，很棒，很棒！”但没别的了。实际上，他把小伊玛当成一个小玩偶，让黛黛和艾尔莎玩。他很少和我们一起过星期天，少有的几次气氛很好，他们带着伊玛去了佛罗里笛安娜，他让两个姐姐推着妹妹的小车，在维拉街上散步。他们回家时，四个人都很高兴，但没说几句，我就明白了，尼诺让黛黛和艾尔莎假装成妈妈，照顾伊玛，他和沃美罗区那些真正的母亲在聊天儿，她们也把孩子带到那里呼吸新鲜空气，晒太阳。
In general, if he had time, he was very
available to the children: to Dede, whom he judged very intelligent but too
rigid, and to Elsa, whose feigned acquiescence, behind which lurked malice
and cunning, amused him. But what I hoped would happen never did: he didn’t
become attached to little Imma. He played with her, of course, and sometimes
he really seemed to enjoy himself. For example, with Dede and Elsa he would
bark at her, to get her to say the word “dog.” I heard them howling through
the house as I sought in vain to make some notes, and if Imma by pure chance
emitted from the depths of her throat an indistinct sound that resembled d,
Nino shrieked in unison with the children: she said it, hooray, d. But
nothing more. In fact he used the infant as a doll to entertain Dede and
Elsa. The increasingly rare times when he spent a Sunday with us and the
weather was fine, he went with them and Imma to the Floridiana, encouraging
them to push their sister’s stroller along the paths of the park. When they
returned they were all pleased. But a few words were enough for me to guess
that Nino had abandoned Dede and Elsa to play mamma to Imma, while he went
off to converse with the real mothers of the Vomero who were taking their
children out for air and sun.
随着时间的流逝，我越来越习惯于他勾三搭四的爱好，我觉得那只是一种坏毛病。尤其是，我也习惯了那些女人马上就会喜欢他。但后来忽然间，这方面也出了问题。我越来越发现，他的女性朋友多得惊人，所有的女人在他面前都会变得光彩照人。我很熟悉那种光彩，并不觉得惊异。在他面前，你会非常有存在感，你会觉得很高兴。很自然，所有那些女孩子，还有成熟女性都会对他产生感情，我不排除她们会对他产生性欲的可能，但我不觉得这是一个必然的结果。让我最不安的，就是之前莉拉说过的一句话：“我觉得，他也不是你的朋友。”我尽量不把这句话和另一个问题联系在一起：“这些女人是他的情人吗？”因此，让我不安的不是他会背叛我，而是其他东西，我确信尼诺会激发这些女人的母性，她们会在自己力所能及的范围内帮助他。
Over time I had become used to his
penchant for seductive behavior, I considered it a sort of tic. I was used
above all to the way women immediately liked him. But at a certain point
something was spoiled there, too. I began to notice that he had an impressive
number of women friends, and that they all seemed to brighten in his
vicinity. I knew that light well, I wasn’t surprised. Being close to him gave
you the impression of being visible, especially to yourself, and you were
content. It was natural, therefore, that all those girls, and older women,
too, were fond of him, and if I didn’t exclude sexual desire I also didn’t
consider it essential. I stood confused on the edge of the remark made long
ago by Lila, In my opinion he’s not your friend, either, and tried as
infrequently as possible to transmute it into the question: Are these women
his lovers? So it wasn’t the hypothesis that he was betraying me that
disturbed me but something else. I was convinced that Nino encouraged in
those people a sort of maternal impulse to do, within the limits of the
possible, what could be useful to him.
伊玛出生后没多久，尼诺的事业越来越顺了。当他出现时，会带着自豪给我讲他取得的成功。我很快就发现，他过去飞黄腾达，那是因为他妻子的家人，现在呢，他得到的每个新职务都离不开一个女人的帮助。有一个女人帮他在《晨报》上开了一个专栏，每半个月发一篇文章；另一个女人推荐他在费拉拉一个重要的研讨会上致辞；还有一个让他成了都灵一家杂志的主编；一个来自费城的女人——一个联合国官员的妻子，最近推荐他去做一个美国基金会的顾问。这些帮助过他的女人的名单在不断增加。除此之外，我自己不是也帮着他，让他在一家重要的出版社出了一本书？我不是还帮着他出第二本书吗？再想想，他上高中时那么耀眼，还不是因为背后有加利亚尼老师？
Shortly after Imma’s birth, things began
to go better for him. When he appeared he told me proudly of his successes,
and I was quickly forced to register that, just as in the past his career had
had a boost thanks to his wife’s family, so, too, behind every new
responsibility he got was the mediation of a woman. One had obtained for him
a biweekly column in Il Mattino. One had recommended him for the keynote
speech at an important conference in Ferrara. One had put him on the managing
editorial board of a Turinese journal. Another—originally from Philadelphia
and married to a NATO officer stationed in Naples—had recently added his name
as a consultant for an American foundation. The list of favors was
continuously lengthening. Besides, hadn’t I myself helped him publish a book
with an important publishing house? And, if I thought about it, hadn’t
Professor Galiani been the source of his reputation as a high-school student?
当他忙着施展自己的魅力时，我开始默默地研究他。他邀请那些年轻太太或风韵不再的女人来家里吃饭，她们有的是自己单独来，有的是带着各自的丈夫或男友。在那些情况下，我带着不安的心情，看着他怎么给这些女人说话的机会：他基本上会无视那些男性客人，他会把注意力完全集中在那些女人的身上，有时候他会针对其中一个女人。一个晚上又一个晚上，我都看到了这样的场景，尽管有其他人在场，他都能表现得像单独和他感兴趣的太太面对面在一起，他不会说任何有暗示性的、不得体的话，他只会问问题。
I began to study him while he was engaged
in that work of seduction. He often invited young and not so young women to
dinner at my house, alone or with their husbands or companions. I observed
with some anxiety that he knew how to give them space: he ignored the male
guests almost completely, making the women the center of his attention, and
at times focusing on one in particular. Many evenings I witnessed
conversations that, although they took place in the presence of other people,
he was able to conduct as if he were alone, in private, with the only woman
who at that moment appeared to interest him. He said nothing allusive, or
compromising, he merely asked questions.
“后来发生了什么事儿？”
“And then what happened?”
“我离家出走了。我十八岁时离开了莱切，来到那不勒斯，但这是一个很难融入的城市。”
“I left home. I left Lecce at eighteen
and Naples wasn’t an easy city.”
“你住在哪儿？”
“Where did you live?”
“在法院路一栋很破的房子里，和另外两个姑娘住在一起，没有一个安静的角落可以学习。”
“In a run-down apartment in the
Tribunali, with two other girls. There wasn’t even a quiet corner where I
could study.”
“男朋友呢？”
“And men?”
“什么男朋友。”
“Certainly not.”
“男朋友总会有一个吧。”
“There must have been someone.”
“是有一个，也在这儿坐着呢，我后来嫁给他了。”
“There was one, and, just my luck, he’s
here, I’m married to him.”
这位太太提到了自己的丈夫，就是想让他也加入到谈话中，但尼诺无视那个男人，依然用那种灼热的声音，对面前的女人说话。尼诺对于女性世界很好奇，其实没有别的企图。我对他非常了解，他一点儿都不像那个年代的其他男性，表示出他们已经作出了很大让步，不再那么大男子主义了。我想，不仅是那些来我们家里的教授、建筑师，还有艺术家，他们的行为、感情和观念都有些女性化的成分，就连卡门的丈夫罗伯特，也会分担很多家务，还有恩佐，他会毫不犹豫把自己的所有时间都花在莉拉身上。那些寻找自我的女性让尼诺很振奋，他的热情是真诚的，没有一次晚饭，他不会重复这样一句话：和她们一起思考，才是唯一的真正的思考方式。但他会死死捍卫自己的空间，还有他投身的诸多事情，他永远都把自己放在第一位，从来都不会让出一点他的时间。
Although the woman had brought up her
husband as if to include him in the conversation, Nino ignored him and
continued to talk to her in his warm voice. He had a curiosity about the
world of women that was genuine. But—this I knew very well by now—he didn’t
in the least resemble the men who in those years made a show of giving up at
least a few of their privileges. I thought not only of professors,
architects, artists who came to our house and displayed a sort of
feminization of behaviors, feelings, opinions; but also of Carmen’s husband,
Roberto, who was really helpful, and Enzo, who with no hesitation would have
sacrificed all his time to Lila’s needs. Nino was sincerely interested in how
women found themselves. There was no dinner at which he did not repeat that
to think along with them was now the only way to a true thought. But he held
tight to his spaces and his numerous activities, he put first of all, always
and only, himself, he didn’t give up an instant of his time.
有一次，我想在所有人面前揭发他的做法，于是用一种充满温情、开玩笑的语气说：
On one occasion I tried, with
affectionate irony, to show him up as a liar in front of everyone:
“你们不要相信他说的，刚开始的时候，他会帮着我收拾桌子，洗碗。现在他连地上的袜子都不会捡起来。”
“Don’t believe him. At first he helped me
clear, he washed the dishes: today he doesn’t even pick his socks up off the
floor.”
“这不是真的。”他反驳说。
“That’s not true,” he protested.
“就是这样，他想解放别人的女人，而不是自己的女人。”
“Yes, it is. He wants to liberate the
women of others but not his.”
“好吧，你的解放并不意味着我要失去我的自由。”
“Well, your liberation shouldn’t
necessarily signify the loss of my freedom.”
类似于这样开玩笑的话中，我听到了那些年和彼得罗矛盾争吵的回声，这让我很不舒服。为什么我前夫说那些话会让我很气愤，而我却会放过尼诺？我想：也许和任何男人的关系都会产生同样的矛盾，但在有些情况下，也会产生令人满意的结果，我不能太夸张了，无论如何他们还是有差别的，和尼诺在一起一定会好一些。
In remarks like this, too, uttered
playfully, I soon recognized, uneasily, echoes of my conflicts with Pietro.
Why had I gotten so angry at my ex-husband while with Nino I let it go? I
thought: maybe every relationship with men can only reproduce the same
contradictions and, in certain environments, even the same smug responses.
But then I said to myself: I mustn’t exaggerate, there’s a difference, with
Nino it’s certainly going better.
但真的是这样吗？我越来越不自信了。我想起了他在佛罗伦萨住在我家里时，他支持我反抗彼得罗，我还带着喜悦，想起了过去他鼓励我写作的事。但现在呢？我急需重新开始严肃地写作，这些年情况发生了变化，我感觉自己已经不像之前那么信心十足了。尼诺有越来越多自己的需求，尽管他很想，但他没时间给我。为了表示弥补，他通过他母亲急忙给我找了一个照顾家里的保姆，叫西尔瓦娜，五十岁左右，身体很结实，她有三个孩子，看起来总是乐呵呵的，她很勤快，和我的三个女儿处得也很好。他很慷慨，没说请这个保姆花了多少钱。过了一个星期，他问我：“一切都好吧，她还行吧？”但很明显，他觉得他花了雇保姆的钱，就不用为我担心了。当然，他很在意我，他时不时会问我：“你在写吗？”然后就没有别的了。刚开始时他对我的写作的那种关注已经消失了，不仅如此，我带着一丝尴尬想，我自己也不像之前那样赋予他权威了。我发现，我内心有一种声音对我说：不能太依赖尼诺了，他一点儿也不可靠。现在我在听尼诺说话时，已经没有我小时候的感受：他之前说的每个字，都会在我的心里激起火花。我让他看一段还不成型的稿子，他马上会大声说：“很棒！”我给他简述了我正在构思的小说的故事主线和人物，他会说：“很精彩，很聪明。”但他的话对我没有任何说服力，我不相信他，他对其他很多女人写的东西表现出了同样热情洋溢的态度。如果和其他夫妻共进晚餐，在别人走了之后他总是会说：“这个男人真是平庸啊！他的女人要比他强得多。”他的所有女性朋友，仅仅是作为他的朋友，在他眼里都是非常了不起的女人。对于那些女性的评判通常都是随机应变，甚至是邮局里迟钝、粗暴的女职员，或者黛黛和艾尔莎的那些孤陋寡闻的女老师，他都能找到替她们开脱的话。总之，我不再感觉自己是唯一的，在他眼里，我和其他女人一样，都属于一个模式。假如对于他来说，我不是唯一，那他的评判对我有什么用呢，我怎么能从中汲取能量，写得更好呢？
But was it really? I was less and less
sure. I remembered how, when he was our guest in Florence, he had supported
me against Pietro, I thought again with pleasure of how he had encouraged me
to write. But now? Now that it was crucial for me to seriously get to work,
he seemed unable to instill in me the same confidence as before. Things had
changed over the years. Nino always had his own urgent needs, and even if he
wanted to he couldn’t devote himself to me. To mollify me he had hurried to
get, through his mother, a certain Silvana, a massive woman of around fifty,
with three children, always cheerful, very lively, and good with the three
girls. Generously he had glossed over what he paid her, and after a week had
asked: Everything in order, it’s working? But it was evident that he felt
that the expense authorized him not to be concerned with me. Of course he was
attentive, he regularly asked: Are you writing? But that was it. The central
place that my effort to write had had at the start of our relationship had
vanished. And it wasn’t only that. I myself, with a certain embarrassment, no
longer recognized him as the authority he had once been. I discovered, in
other words, that the part of me that confessed I could not really depend on
Nino also no longer saw around his every word the flaming halo I had seemed
to perceive since childhood. I gave him a still shapeless paragraph to read
and he exclaimed: Perfect. I summarized a plot and characters that I was
sketching out and he said: Great, very intelligent. But he didn’t convince
me, I didn’t believe him, he expressed enthusiastic opinions about the work
of too many women. His recurring phrase after an evening with other couples
was almost always: What a boring man, she is certainly better than he is. His
women friends, inasmuch as they were his friends, were always judged
extraordinary. And his judgment of women in general was, as a rule, tolerant.
Nino could justify even the sadistic obtuseness of the employees of the post
office, the ignorant narrow-mindedness of Dede and Elsa’s teachers. In other
words I no longer felt unique, I was a form that was valid for all women. But
if for him I wasn’t unique, what help could his opinion give me, how could I
draw energy from it to do well?
有一天晚上，当着我的面，他对一个女性朋友——一个生物学家大肆赞扬。我很失控，就问他：
Exasperated, one evening, by the praise
he had heaped on a biologist friend in my presence, I asked him:
“这世界上，真的一个愚蠢的女人都没有吗？”
“Is it possible that a stupid woman
doesn’t exist?”
“我说的不是这个。我说，一般来说，你们女人要比男人强。”
“I didn’t say that: I said that as a rule
you are better than us.”
“我比你强？”
“I’m better than you?”
“绝对是的，我很早就知道了。”
“Absolutely, yes, and I’ve known it for a
very long time.”
“好吧，我相信你，但在你的生命里，至少有那么一次，你有没有遇到过一个糟糕的女人？”
“All right, I believe you, but at least
once in your life, have you met a bitch?”
“是的。”
“Yes.”
“告诉我她的名字。”
“Tell me her name.”
我知道他会跟我说什么，但我坚持问他，我希望他说是埃利奥诺拉。我等着，他变得很严肃：
I knew what he would say, and yet I
insisted, hoping he would say Eleonora. I waited, he became serious:
“我不能说。”
“I can’t.”
“告诉我吧。”
“Tell me.”
“我说了，你会生气的。”
“If I tell you you’ll get mad.”
“我不会生气。”
“I won’t get mad.”
“莉娜。”
“Lina.”
73
假如在过去，我会有点儿相信他对莉拉这种持久的敌意，但现在我越来越没那么确信了，部分是因为就在几个晚上之前，他对莉拉完全是另一种看法。他想写完一篇关于菲亚特工厂的工作和自动化的文章，我看他遇到了困难（“微处理器到底是什么东西？芯片是什么？这些玩意儿是怎么运作的”）。我对他说：“你和恩佐·斯坎诺谈谈吧，他很厉害。”他有些漫不经心地问：“恩佐·斯坎诺是谁？”我回答说：“莉娜的男人。”他脸上浮现起一丝微笑，说：“那我更愿意和莉娜谈，她一定更在行。”这时候他好像记忆恢复了，他带着一丝鄙夷补充了一句：“斯坎诺不是当年那个卖水果的人的傻儿子吗？”
If in the past I had believed somewhat in
his recurring hostility toward Lila, now I found it less and less convincing,
partly because it was joined not infrequently to moments when, as had
happened a few nights earlier, he demonstrated a completely different
feeling. He was trying to finish an essay on work and the automation of Fiat,
but I saw that he was in trouble (What precisely is a microprocessor, what’s
a chip, how does this stuff function in practice). I had said to him: talk to
Enzo Scanno, he’s smart. He had asked absentmindedly: Who is Enzo Scanno?
Lina’s companion, I answered. He said with a half smile: Then I prefer to
talk to Lina, she certainly knows more. And, as if the memory had returned,
he added, with a trace of resentment: Wasn’t Scanno the idiot son of the
fruit seller?
他的语气刻在了我脑子里。恩佐自己开了一家创新性的小公司，要是考虑到这家公司位于老城区的中心，这是一件非常了不起的事情。作为学者，尼诺本应该对他表示出兴趣和欣赏。但他用“当年”这个词，把恩佐一下子拉回到了小学时光。那时候，恩佐要么在铺子里帮他母亲干活，要么就和他父亲推着小车在街上卖菜，他没时间学习，所以在学校成绩不是很出色。他很轻蔑地抹杀了恩佐的所有功劳，把一切成绩都算到了莉拉头上。我意识到，假如我逼问他的话，他会得出这样一个结论：女性聪明智慧最杰出的代表——或者他自身崇拜的那种女性智慧，甚至如他在一些谈话里宣称的，对女性智慧的浪费是最大的浪费——都和莉拉相关。尼诺和我狂热相爱的阶段已经黯淡下来，但伊斯基亚的那段时间对他来说，永远都会记忆如新。我想，我为之离开彼得罗的那个男人，他现在成为这样，那是因为和莉拉相遇把他塑造成了这个样子。
That tone struck me. Enzo was the founder
of a small, innovative business—a miracle, considering that the office was in
the heart of the old neighborhood. Precisely because he was a scholar, Nino
should have displayed interest and admiration toward him. Instead, he had
returned him, thanks to that imperfect—was—to the time of elementary school,
when he helped his mother in the shop or went around with his father and the
cart and didn’t have time to study and didn’t shine. He had, with irritation,
taken every virtue away from Enzo, and given them all to Lila. That was how I
realized that if I had forced him to delve into himself, it would have
emerged that the highest example of female intelligence—maybe his own worship
of female intelligence, even certain lectures claiming that the waste of
women’s intellectual resources was the greatest waste of all—had to do with
Lila, and that if our season of love was already darkening, the season of
Ischia would always remain radiant for him. The man for whom I left Pietro, I
thought, is what he is because his encounter with Lila reshaped him that way.
74
我是在深秋一个寒冷的早上想到这一点的。当时我在送黛黛和艾尔莎去上学。我有些漫不经心地开着车，这个想法产生之后，就在我的脑海里挥之不去。我能分辨出我心里有两种爱情：一种是对城区的那个小男孩、中学时代的尼诺的爱，以及我在伊斯基亚产生的情感；另一种爱情是在米兰产生的，对书店里的那个年轻男人，以及后来出现在佛罗伦萨我家里的那个男人产生的激情。我一直把这两种感情联系在一起，但那天早上，我觉得那种联系是不存在的，那种持续性只是一种理所当然的想法，但不是事实。我想：在这中间是他和莉拉爱情的破裂，那次破裂本应该把尼诺从我的生活中彻底抹去，但我却选择不考虑这段历史。所以，我现在迷恋的是谁？我今天爱的是谁？
This idea occurred to me one frigid fall
morning when I was taking Dede and Elsa to school. I was driving
distractedly, and the idea took root. I distinguished the love for the
neighborhood boy, the high-school student—a feeling of mine that had as its object
a fantasy of mine, conceived before Ischia—from the passion that had
overwhelmed me for the young man in the bookstore in Milan, the person who
had appeared in my house in Florence. I had always maintained a connection
between those two emotional blocks, and that morning instead it seemed to me
that there was no connection, that the continuity was a trick of logic. In
the middle, I thought, there had been a rupture—his love for Lila—that should
have cancelled Nino forever from my life, but which I had refused to reckon
with. To whom, then, was I bound, and whom did I still love today?
那段时间，通常都是西尔瓦娜送两个孩子去学校，尼诺还在睡觉，我会照顾伊玛。那天我作了不同的安排，我打算整个早上都在外面，我想看看，国家图书馆有没有罗伯特·布拉科的一本老书，题目是《在女人的世界里》。我在早上的车流里缓慢前行，脑子里想的是这些事儿。我开着车子，漫不经心地回答着两个孩子的问题，我想到了两个不同阶段的尼诺，一个是属于我的，另一个对于我是很陌生的。当我千叮咛万嘱咐，把黛黛和艾尔莎放在她们各自的学校门口，我的想法变成了画面——这是在那个阶段经常发生的事，我想到了我要写的那个小说的主线。我开着车驶向沿海路时，我想自己有没有可能写一部小说，讲的是一个女人和一个她小时候就爱着的男人结婚了，但新婚之夜，她发现他身体的一部分是属于她的，而另一部分却被她童年时的好朋友占据了。忽然间，我的这些想法被一件比较紧急的家庭琐事冲散了：我忘记给伊玛买尿布了。
Usually Silvana drove the children to
school, and, while Nino was still asleep, I took care of Imma. That day,
however, I had arranged things so that I could stay out all morning; I wanted
to see if I could find in the Biblioteca Nazionale an old volume by Roberto
Bracco, entitled In the World of Women. Meanwhile, I advanced slowly through
the morning traffic with that thought in mind. I was driving, I was answering
the children’s questions, I was returning to a Nino made of two parts, one
that belonged to me, the other alien. When, with countless warnings and bits
of advice, I left Dede and Elsa at their respective schools, the thought had
become an image and, as happened often in that period, had been transformed
into the nucleus of a possible story. It could be, I said to myself as I
descended toward the sea, a novel in which a woman marries the man she’s been
in love with since childhood, but on their wedding night she realizes that
while a part of his body belongs to her, the other part is physically
inhabited by a childhood friend of hers. Then in a flash everything was swept
away by a sort of domestic alarm bell: I had forgotten to buy diapers for
Imma.
很多时候，日常琐事会像一记耳光一样把人唤醒，让那些胡思乱想变得无关紧要，甚至有些可笑。我停下车，对自己感到气愤。我很疲惫，尽管我很仔细地在一个小本子上写下所有急需要买的东西，但有时候我会忘记带本子。我叹了一口气，我永远都做不到井井有条。那天尼诺有一个非常重要的约会，是工作上的事儿，可能他已经从家里出来了，但无论如何，这种事儿都不能指望他。如果伊玛没尿布可换，她会起疹子。我不能让西尔瓦娜去药店里买，那样她就不得不把孩子单独放在家里。我回到了塔索街，跑到药店买了尿布，气喘吁吁地回到家里。我确信在楼梯间就会听到伊玛的尖叫，但等到我用钥匙打开门，却发现家里静悄悄的。
Daily life frequently erupted, like a
slap, making irrelevant if not ridiculous every meandering little fantasy. I
pulled up, angry at myself. I was so burdened that, although I scrupulously
wrote down on a notepad the things I needed to buy, I ended up forgetting the
list itself. I fumed, I could never organize myself as I should. Nino had an
important appointment for work, maybe he had already left, and anyway it was
useless to count on him. I couldn’t send Silvana to the pharmacy because she
would have had to leave the baby alone in the house. As a result there were
no diapers, Imma couldn’t be changed and would have a rash for days. I went
back to Via Tasso. I hurried to the pharmacy, I bought the diapers, I arrived
home out of breath. I was sure I would hear Imma screaming from the landing
but I opened the door with the key and entered a silent apartment.
我隐约看到伊玛坐在客厅的围栏里，身上没穿尿布，在玩一个布娃娃。我想溜走，不让她看到我，她看到我就会大哭起来，想让我抱。我想把尿布交给西尔瓦娜，然后马上去图书馆。这时候，我听到大洗手间有窸窸窣窣的声音（通常尼诺都会用一个小洗手间，我和几个孩子用大洗手间），我想着是西尔瓦娜在打扫。我走了过去，门虚掩着，我推开了门。在明亮的大长镜子里，西尔瓦娜低着头，首先跃入眼帘的是她头发中间的发线，她两边的黑发里夹杂着缕缕白发，然后，我看到了尼诺闭着的眼睛、张着的嘴。这时候，镜中的影像忽然间和真实的身体融为一体，尼诺身上只穿着一件背心，其他什么都没穿，他消瘦的长腿张开站着，脚上没穿袜子，西尔瓦娜身子向前弯着，两只手扶在洗手池上，她宽大的内裤褪到了膝盖那里，深色的上衣一直拉到腰上面。他的手臂揽着她的大肚子，一只手抓着从文胸里露出来的大胸脯，在摩擦着她，同时他平坦的肚子在撞击着她宽大的屁股——白得刺眼的屁股。
I glimpsed the baby in the living room,
sitting in her playpen, without a diaper, playing with a doll. I slipped past
so that she wouldn’t see me, or she would start howling to be picked up, and
I wanted to hand over the package to Silvana and try again to get to the
library. A faint noise came from the big bathroom (we had a small bathroom
that Nino generally used, and a large one for the girls and me), I thought
that Silvana must be straightening it. I went there, the door was half open,
I pushed it. First I saw, in the luminous space of the long mirror, Silvana’s
head bent forward, and I was struck by the stripe of the center part, the two
black bands of her hair threaded with white. Then I became aware of Nino’s
closed eyes, his open mouth. Suddenly, in a flash, the reflected image and
the real bodies came together. Nino was in his undershirt and otherwise
naked, his long thin legs parted, his feet bare. Silvana, curved forward,
with both hands resting on the sink, had her big underpants at her knees and
the dark smock pulled up around her waist. He, while he stroked her sex
holding her heavy stomach with his arm, was gripping an enormous breast that
stuck out of the smock and the bra, and meanwhile was thrusting his flat
stomach against her large white buttocks.
我狠狠把门拉上了，这时候尼诺睁开了眼睛，西尔瓦娜忽然抬起了头，向我投来惊恐的目光。我跑过去从围栏里抱起伊玛，尼诺对着我叫喊：“埃莱娜，等等！”我已经从家里出来了，我没叫电梯，抱着孩子从楼梯上冲了下去。
I pulled the door hard toward myself just
as Nino opened his eyes and Silvana suddenly raised her head, throwing me a
frightened gaze. I rushed to get Imma from the playpen and while Nino
shouted, Elena, wait, I was already out of the house, I didn’t even call the
elevator, I ran down the stairs with the baby in my arms.
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