-*-
101
第二天，我就开始渴望尼诺打电话来，每次电话响，都会让我心惊。但一个星期过去了，他还是没有任何消息。我感觉自己好像患了重感冒，变得很慵懒，我不再读书、做笔记，因为那种没意义的等待，我对自己感到气愤。有一天下午，彼得罗回家时，心情特别好。他说，尼诺来系里找他了，他们俩聊了一会儿，他没能说服尼诺来家里，尼诺不愿意我辛苦做饭，他邀请我们明天晚上出去吃，让我们带上孩子。
I hoped that Nino would call right away,
the next day. I started every time the phone rang. Instead, an entire week
slipped by without news from him. I felt as if I had a terrible cold. I
became idle, I stopped my reading and my notes, I got angry at myself for
that senseless expectation. Then one afternoon Pietro returned home in an
especially good mood. He said that Nino had come by the department, that they
had spent some time together, that there was no way to persuade him to come
to dinner. He invited us to go out tomorrow evening, he said, the children,
too: he doesn’t want you to go to the trouble of cooking.
我感觉我的血液加速了流动，我对彼得罗忽然变得很殷勤。两个孩子一进入到她们的房间里，我就抱住他，吻了他，跟他说了很多情话。晚上我没怎么睡着，或者说得准确一点，我感觉自己一直醒着。第二天，黛黛刚从学校里回来，我就把她和艾尔莎一起放到浴盆里，给她们俩好好地洗了澡。然后我开始收拾自己，我舒舒服服地洗了个澡，把身上的汗毛剃干净，仔仔细细地擦干身子。我试穿了所有的衣服，却越来越不安，因为我不喜欢自己的样子，我对我的头发也不满意。黛黛和艾尔莎都围在我身边，她们在模仿我。她们站在镜子前面，假装对自己的衣服还有发型不满意，她们的小脚踢踏着我的鞋子。最后，我只能接受自己的样子。艾尔莎在临出门前把裙子弄脏了，被我狠狠骂了一顿。我开着车，去大学里接彼得罗和尼诺，他们已经约好了在大学里碰头。我一路上都很心焦，一直在说两个孩子，她们不停地唱着一首她们自己编的儿歌，歌词全是尿尿和便便。我越靠近约好的地方，我就越希望尼诺在最后一刻有什么事儿来不了，但我远远就看见他们俩站在约定的地方，在聊天。尼诺的动作很有感染力，就好像他要让和他对话的人进入一个只为他设置的世界。我觉得，彼得罗像往常一样笨拙，脸上的皮肤有些发红，只有他在笑，在尼诺的面前，他显得有些相形见绌。对于我的到来，他们俩都没有特别的表示。
The blood began to flow more quickly, I
felt an anxious tenderness for Pietro. As soon as the girls went to their
room I embraced him, I kissed him, I whispered words of love. I hardly slept
that night, or rather I slept with the impression of being awake. The next
day, as soon as Dede came home from school, I put her in the bathtub with
Elsa and washed them thoroughly. Then I moved on to myself. I took a long
pleasant bath, I shaved my legs, I washed my hair and dried it carefully. I
tried on every dress I owned, but I was getting more and more nervous,
nothing looked right, and I didn’t like the way my hair had turned out. Dede
and Elsa were right there, pretending to be me. They posed in front of the
mirror, they expressed dissatisfaction with clothes and hairdos, they
shuffled around in my shoes. I resigned myself to being what I was. After I
scolded Elsa too harshly for getting her dress dirty at the last minute, we
got in the car and drove to pick up Pietro and Nino, who were at the
university. I drove apprehensively, constantly reprimanding the girls, who
were singing nursery rhymes of their own invention based on shit and pee. The
closer I got to the place where we were to meet, the more I hoped that some
last-minute engagement would keep Nino from coming. Instead I saw the two men
right away, talking. Nino had enveloping gestures, as if he were inviting his
interlocutor to enter into a space designed just for him. Pietro seemed as
usual clumsy, the skin of his face flushed, he alone was laughing and in a
deferential way. Neither of the two showed particular interest in my arrival.
我丈夫和两个孩子坐在后面的位子上，尼诺坐在我旁边的座位上，给我指路，要把我带到一家好馆子。他转过身，跟黛黛还有艾尔莎说，那里的炸油酥面很好吃。他很仔细地讲了油酥面的味道，两个孩子充满热情。我用眼睛的余光看着他，多年以前，我们手拉手在一起散步，他还吻了我，他的手指多漂亮啊。但现在他只对我说：“你向右走，接着向右拐，到了一个十字路口向左。”他对我没有说任何一句恭维的话，没有欣赏的目光。
My husband sat in the back seat with the
two girls, Nino sat beside me to direct me to a place where the food was good
and—he said, turning to Dede and Elsa—they made delicious frittelle. He
described them in detail, getting the girls excited. A long time ago, I
thought, observing him out of the corner of my eye, we held hands as we
walked, and twice he kissed me. What nice fingers. To me he said only Here go
right, then right again, then left at the intersection. Not an admiring look,
not a compliment.
在餐馆里，我们受到了热烈的、带着敬意的欢迎。尼诺认识那家餐馆的老板和服务员。最后，我坐在了主座上，坐在两个孩子中间，两个男人面对面坐着。我丈夫说起了大学的日子越来越艰难了。我一直都没说话，我在照顾黛黛和艾尔莎，通常她们在餐桌上都很乖，但那次她们一直在闹，在笑，想要吸引尼诺的关注。我很不自在地想，彼得罗话太多了，不给尼诺说话的机会，这会让他厌烦的。我想，我们在这个城市生活了七年，我们从来都没有常去的餐馆——那些菜做得好的餐馆，我们一进去，服务员就能认出我们，可以带朋友去吃饭的地方。我喜欢老板的礼貌，他经常走到我们桌前来招呼，最后，他甚至对尼诺说：“今天晚上，我不建议您点这道菜，这不太适合您和几位客人，我建议您点别的。”当尼诺说的油酥面上来之后，两个孩子欢呼雀跃，彼得罗也一样，他们抢着吃。只有这时候，尼诺才对我说：
At the trattoria we were greeted in a
friendly but respectful way. Nino knew the owner, the waiters. I ended up at
the head of the table between the girls, the two men sat opposite each other,
and my husband began talking about the difficulties of life in the
university. I said almost nothing, attending to Dede and Elsa, who usually at
the table were very well behaved but that night kept causing trouble,
laughing, to attract Nino’s attention. I thought uneasily: Pietro talks too
much, he’s boring him, he doesn’t leave him space. I thought: We’ve lived in
this city for seven years and we have no place of our own where we could take
him in return, a restaurant where the food is good, as it is here, where
we’re recognized as soon as we enter. I liked the owner’s courtesy, he came
to our table often, and even went so far as to say to Nino: Tonight I won’t
give you that, it’s not fit for you and your guests, and he advised something
else. When the famous frittelle arrived, the girls were elated, and so was
Pietro, they fought over them. Only then Nino turned to me.
“为什么后来再也没看到你写东西了？”他语气一本正经，没有通常餐桌上闲谈的那种轻快，我觉得，他是发自内心地想了解我的情况。
“Why haven’t you had anything else
published?” he asked, without the frivolity of dinner conversation, and an
interest that seemed genuine.
我的脸一下子红了，我指着两个孩子说：
I blushed, I said indicating the
children:
“我做了别的。”
“I did something else.”
“你之前写的那本书很棒。”
“That book was really good.”
“谢谢。”
“Thank you.”
“这不是恭维话，你一直文笔都很好。你记不记得，你写的那篇关于宗教老师的小文章？”
“It’s not a compliment, you’ve always
known how to write. You remember the article about the religion teacher?”
“你的朋友后来都没刊登出来。”
“Your friends didn’t publish it.”
“投递时出了点儿问题。”
“There was a misunderstanding.”
“我当时失去了信心。”
“I lost faith.”
“我很遗憾。现在你在写东西吗？”
“I’m sorry. Are you writing now?”
“抽空写一些。”
“In my spare time.”
“在写一个长篇吗？”
“A novel?”
“我不知道是什么？”
“I don’t know what it is.”
“主题是什么？”
“But the subject?”
“捏造女人的男人。”
“Men who fabricate women.”
“很好。”
“Nice.”
“你会看到的。”
“We’ll see.”
“你要加油啊！我想尽早看到你写的东西。”
“Get busy, I’d like to read you soon.”
让我惊异的是，他对我研究的女性主义书籍非常了解，我当时很确信，男人们不会去看那些书。不仅仅如此，他还提到了，我那段时间看的斯塔罗宾斯基。他说，我可能会用上他书里的东西。他真是无所不知啊，他从小就是这样，对所有问题都充满好奇。他现在提到了卢梭和叔本华，我打断了他，他非常专注地听我说话。这时候，让我心焦的是，两个孩子嚷嚷着还要油酥面，尼诺给老板做了一个手势，让他再加一些。然后，他对彼得罗说：
And, to my surprise, he turned out to be
very familiar with the works by women I was concerned with: I had been sure
that men didn’t read them. Not only that: he cited a book by Starobinski that
he had read recently, and said there was something that might be useful to
me. He knew so much; he had been like that since he was a boy, curious about
everything. Now he was quoting Rousseau and Bernard Shaw, I broke in, he
listened attentively. And when the children, nerve-rackingly, began tugging
at me to order more frittelle, he signaled to the owner to make us some more.
Then, turning to Pietro, he said:
“你应该给你妻子更多的时间。”
“You should leave your wife more time.”
“她有整天的时间啊。”
“She has all day available.”
“我不是和你开玩笑。假如你不给你妻子时间，那你就是一个罪人，不仅仅是做人上，也在政治上。”
“I’m not kidding. If you don’t, you’re
guilty not only on a human level but also on a political one.”
“我的罪名是什么呢？”
“What’s the crime?”
“是对智慧的浪费，女人如果只投身于照顾孩子和家里，这会压抑她的才智，这个社会在做对自己有害的事儿，但却全然没意识到。”
“The waste of intelligence. A community
that finds it natural to suffocate with the care of home and children so many
women’s intellectual energies is its own enemy and doesn’t realize it.”
我默默等着彼得罗回答。我丈夫用一种戏谑的语气说：
I waited in silence for Pietro to
respond. My husband reacted with sarcasm.
“埃莱娜想怎么发挥自己的才智都可以，只要她不占用我的时间。”
“Elena can cultivate her intelligence
when and how she likes, the essential thing is that she not take time from
me.”
“假如我不占用你的时间，那我应该占用谁的时间？”
“If she doesn’t take it from you, then
who can she take it from?”
彼得罗的眉头皱了起来。
Pietro frowned.
“当我们任务紧急，而且充满工作热情时，没有任何事情能阻止我们完成自己的使命。”
“When the task we give ourselves has the
urgency of passion, there’s nothing that can keep us from completing it.”
我觉得很受伤，强颜欢笑着说：
I felt wounded, I whispered with a false
smile:
“我丈夫说的是，我没什么真正的兴趣。”
“My husband is saying that I have no true
interest.”
一阵沉默。尼诺问：
Silence. Nino asked:
“是不是这样的？”
“And is that true?”
我随口说我不知道，我什么都不知道。我带着尴尬和怒气说这些时，我意识到，我眼睛里充满了泪水，我低下了头。别吃了！我用一种有些失控的声音对两个孩子说。这时候，尼诺也帮着我，他大声说：“我再吃一个就停了，妈妈也不吃了，爸爸也停了，你们俩呢，也够了吧。”这时候，他叫来了老板，很庄严地说：“过一个月，三十天整，我会和这两位小姐来这里，你们要给我们准备好吃的炸油酥面，要准备一大堆，好吗？”
I answered in a rush that I didn’t know,
I didn’t know anything. But while I was speaking, with embarrassment, with
rage, I realized that my eyes were filled with tears. I lowered my gaze.
That’s enough fritelle, I said to the children in a scarcely controlled
voice, and Nino came to my aid, he exclaimed: I’ll eat just one more, Mamma
also, Papa, too, and you can have two, but then that’s it. He called over the
owner and said solemnly: I’ll be back here with these two young ladies in
exactly thirty days and you’ll make us a mountain of these exquisite
fritelle, all right?
艾尔莎问：
Elsa asked:
“一个月是什么时候，三十天是什么时候？”
“When is a month, when is thirty days?”
这时候，我强行咽下了眼泪，我盯着尼诺说：
And I, having managed to repress my
tears, stared at Nino and said:
“是啊，一个月是什么时候，三十天是什么时候？”
“Yes, when is a month, when is thirty
days?”
黛黛还有我们几个大人，都开艾尔莎玩笑，因为她还没有时间概念。最后，彼得罗想去付钱，但发现尼诺已经付过了。他抗议了一下，然后坐到了方向盘前开车，我和两个昏昏欲睡的孩子坐在后座。我们把尼诺送回宾馆，一路上我都在听他们有些醉意的话，我什么都没说。到达目的地，彼得罗兴致勃勃，非常热情地说：
We laughed—Dede more than us adults—at
Elsa’s vague idea of time. Then Pietro tried to pay, but he discovered that
Nino had already done it. He protested. He drove, I sat in the back between
the two girls, who were half asleep. We took Nino to the hotel and all the
way I listened to their slightly tipsy conversation. Once we were there
Pietro, euphoric, said:
“你不用浪费钱了，我们家里有一间客房，下次你来的时候，可以住在我们家里，不要客气。”
“It doesn’t make sense to throw away
money: we have a guest room, next time you can come and stay with us, don’t
stand on ceremony.”
尼诺笑了：
Nino smiled:
“不到一个小时前，我们还说，埃莱娜需要自己的时间，现在，你想让我去增加她的负担？”
“Less than an hour ago we said that Elena
needs time, and now you want to burden her with my presence?”
我用微弱的声音说：
I interrupted wearily: “It would be a
pleasure for me, and also for Dede and Elsa.”
“你来的话，我会很高兴，黛黛和艾尔莎也会很高兴。”
But as soon as we were alone I said to my
husband:
但告别之后，我马上就对我丈夫说：
“Before making certain invitations you
might at least consult me.”
“在做此类邀请之前，你至少要问一下我。”
He started the car, looked at me in the
rearview mirror, stammered:
他在发动汽车，在后视镜里寻找我的目光，嘟哝了一句：“我还以为你会很高兴呢。”
“I thought it would please you.”
-*-
102
噢，我当然高兴了，我简直太高兴了，但我感觉，我的身体像蛋壳一样脆弱，只要在我的手臂、额头或者在肚子上轻轻摁一下，我的身体就会被打破，里面所有的秘密都会冒出来，那些事情，对于我来说也是秘密。我避免算日子，我专注于看自己的书，我这么做，就好像是尼诺交代我这么做，他再次出现时，我要给他一个比较满意的答案。我想对他说：“我听从了你的建议，继续写了下去，这是我写的稿子，你看看，告诉我你的看法。”
Oh of course it pleased me, it pleased me
greatly. But I also felt as if my body had the consistency of eggshell, and a
slight pressure on my arm, on my forehead, on my stomach would be enough to
break it and dig out all my secrets, in particular those which were secrets
even to me. I avoided counting the days. I concentrated on the texts I was
studying, but I did it as if Nino had commissioned that work and on his
return would expect first-rate results. I wanted to tell him: I followed your
advice, I kept going, here’s a draft, tell me what you think.
这是一个好办法，在我没察觉的情况下，三十天等待的时间，很快就过去了。我忘记了埃莉莎，我从来都没想起过莉拉，我没给马丽娅罗莎打过电话，我没读报纸，也不看电视，完全忽视了两个孩子，还有家。我无视整个意大利，还有这个星球此起彼伏的事件：被捕、冲突、谋杀和战争，我只隐约知道，那段时间意大利充满张力的竞选宣传。我非常投入地埋头写东西。
It was a good expedient. The thirty days
of waiting went by too quickly. I forgot about Elisa, I never thought of
Lila, I didn’t telephone Mariarosa. And I didn’t read the newspapers or watch
television. I neglected the children and the house. Of arrests and clashes
and assassinations and wars, in the permanent agon of Italy and the planet,
only an echo reached me; I was scarcely aware of the heavy tensions of the
electoral campaign. All I did was write, with great absorption.
我苦思冥想，写到一大堆古老的问题，直到后来，我感觉我找到了一个解决方法，至少在文字上。有时候，我会试着和彼得罗谈论我写的东西。他比我想得周全，他一定会让我避免写一些信口开河或者粗鲁愚蠢的东西。但我没和他谈论这些，他会用他的无所不知，衬托出我的无知，会让我觉得不自在，我不喜欢那种时刻。我记得，我非常用功，尤其是在《圣经》上花了很大功夫。我把那些资料按照顺序排列起来，我认为，第一步是对上帝创造万物的总结，第二步是展开来讲述。我讲述了一个跌宕起伏的故事，但从来都没觉得自己不够慎重。我非常确凿地写道：“上帝按照自己的样子，创造了‘伊始’。他创造了一个男性一个女性。他是怎么创造的呢？首先，他用泥土捏出了伊始的样子，然后给他鼻孔里吹气，使他活过来。然后他制作了‘伊始阿’——第一个女人，他用的是已经形成的男性身体，不是最原始的材料，而是活的材料，那是从伊始的肋骨上取下来的，上帝又马上使伊始的肉愈合。结果是，伊始可以说：这个创造物，并不像上帝创造的其他东西，她不是我的身外之物，而是我的肉中的肉，骨中的骨，上帝是用我创造了她。她是上帝从我身上取出来的。我是伊始，她是伊始阿。首先，赐予她的名字，也是从我这里来的，我是上帝仿照自己造的，他将生气吹在我的鼻孔里，我带着他的语言，她只是一个纯粹前缀，附在我的词根上，她只能用我的语言表达自己。”
I racked my brains over a pile of old questions, until I had the impression that I had found, at least in writing, a definitive order. At times I was tempted to turn to Pietro. He was much smarter than me, he would surely save me from writing hasty or crude or stupid things. But I didn’t do it, I hated the moments when he intimidated me with his encyclopedic knowledge. I worked hard, I remember, especially on the first and second Biblical creations. I put them in order, taking the first as a sort of synthesis of the divine creative act, the second as a sort of more expansive account. I made up a lively story, without ever feeling imprudent. God—I wrote, more or less—creates man, Ish, in his image. He creates a masculine and a feminine version. How? First, with the dust of the earth, he forms Ish, and blows into his nostrils the breath of life. Then he makes Isha’h, the woman, from the already formed male material, material no longer raw but living, which he takes from Ish’s side, and immediately closes up the flesh. The result is that Ish can say: This thing is not, like the army of all that has been created, other than me, but is flesh of my flesh, bone of my bones. God produced it from me. He made me fertile with the breath of life and extracted it from my body. I am Ish and she is Isha’h. In the word above all, in the word that names her, she derives from me. I am in the image of the divine spirit. I carry within me his Word. She is therefore a pure suffix applied to my verbal root, she can express herself only within my word.
我就这样一天天往下写，脑子和思维一直处于一种兴奋的状态。我唯一的动力是：及时拿出一篇可以让人看的东西。我时不时会让自己也很惊异：我期望获得尼诺的认可，这让我下笔变得容易，也让我思想更加自由。
And I went on like that and lived for
days and days in a state of pleasurable intellectual overexcitement. My only
pressure was to have a readable text in time. Every so often I was surprised
at myself: I had the impression that striving for Nino’s approval made the
writing easier, freed me.
但是一个月过去了，他没有出现。刚开始，这对我是一件好事儿，因为我有更多时间来完成自己的工作。但后来我开始担忧，我向彼得罗打听，我发现，他们经常在办公室通话，但是这几天没有他的消息。
But the month passed and he didn’t
appear. At first it helped me: I had more time and managed to complete my
work. Then I was alarmed, I asked Pietro. I discovered that they often talked
in the office, but that he hadn’t heard from him for several days.
“你们经常通话？”我觉得很烦。
“You often talk?” I said annoyed.
“是的。”
“Yes.”
“为什么你没有告诉我？”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“告诉你什么？”
“What?”
“告诉我，你们经常通话。”
“That you often talked.”
“我们谈的都是工作上的事儿。”
“They were calls about work.”
“好吧，看来你们现在已经是好朋友了，那你给他打个电话，问他什么时候来。”
“Well, since you’ve become so friendly,
call and see if he’ll deign to tell us when he’s coming.”
“有这个必要吗？”
“Is that necessary?”
“对你来说没有必要，但操心的是我。我要做好安排，我希望能事先知道。”
“Not for you, but the effort is mine: I’m
the one who has to take care of everything and I’d like to be warned in
time.”
他还是没打电话。我只好说：“好吧，我们等等吧。尼诺答应了两个孩子，说他会回来的，他应该不会让她们失望。”后来的确也是这样，他的电话晚了一个星期，是一个傍晚打来的。是我自己接的电话，他好像有些尴尬。他寒暄了几句，然后问：“彼得罗不在家吗？”这一次是我变得尴尬，我让我丈夫来接电话。他们聊了很久，我听见，我丈夫在用一种不常用的语气在说话：他的声音很大，有很多感叹句，还夹杂着笑声，这让我的心情越来越坏。只有在这时候，我才明白，他和尼诺的关系给他提供了保障，让他感觉不再那么孤立，让他忘记学校里的问题，打起精神继续自己的工作。我关在自己的房间里，黛黛在看书，艾尔莎在玩儿，她们俩都等着吃饭。但即使是在房间里，我还是能听到我丈夫的声音，他好像喝醉了一样。最后他沉默下来了，我听见他在屋里走动的声音。他最后露脸了，很愉快地对两个女儿说：
He didn’t call him. I responded by saying
to myself: All right, let’s wait, Nino promised the girls he’d be back, I
don’t think he’ll disappoint them. And it was true. He called a week late, in
the evening. I answered, he seemed embarrassed. He uttered a few
generalities, then he asked: Is Pietro not there? I was embarrassed in turn,
I gave the phone to Pietro. They talked for a long time, I felt with
increasing uneasiness that my husband was using unfamiliar tones:
exclamations, laughter, his voice too loud. I understood only then that the
relationship with Nino reassured him, made him feel less isolated, he forgot
his troubles and worked more eagerly. I went into my study, where Dede was
reading and Elsa playing, both waiting for dinner. But even there his voice
reached me, he seemed drunk. Then he was silent, I heard his steps in the
house. He peeked in, and said gaily to his daughters:
“孩子们，明天晚上，我们和尼诺叔叔一起去吃油酥面。”
“Girls, tomorrow night we’re going to eat
frittelle with uncle Nino.”
黛黛和艾尔莎很热情地欢呼起来，我问：
Dede and Elsa shouted with excitement, I
asked:
“他不来这里住吗？”
“What’s he doing, is he coming to stay
here?”
“不了，”他回答我说，“他和妻子还有儿子一起来的，他们住在宾馆里。”
“No,” he answered, “he’s with his wife
and son, they’re at the hotel.”
-*-
103
我用了很长时间才消化了这句话。我忍不住说：
It took me a long time to absorb the
meaning of those words. I burst out:
“他应该提前打个招呼。”
“He could have warned us.”
“他们也是临时决定的。”
“They decided at the last minute.”
“真是没礼貌。”
“He’s a boor.”
“埃莱娜，有什么问题吗？”
“Elena, what is the problem?”
因此，尼诺是和他妻子一起来的，我非常担忧，我害怕自己相形见绌。我有自知之明，我知道自己身体的具体情况，但在我生活的其他时候，我并没有太关注这些。在我成长的那些年，我一般只有一双鞋子，衣服是我母亲缝的，偶尔会化妆。在近些年，我开始关注时尚，在阿黛尔的影响下，我在培养自己的品位，现在我喜欢穿衣打扮。但有时候——不是通常的情况，而是为了一个男人收拾自己时——“捯饬”（这是一个很合适的词汇）我自己让我觉得很可笑，所有精心装扮、描眉画眼的时间，我本可以做些其他事情。那些适合我的颜色，不适合我的颜色，那些让我显得苗条的样式，让我显胖的样式，那些能突出我的美的发型，让我变丑的发型，那是一场漫长、昂贵的准备。那是把我捯饬成一道盛宴，来迎合男性的胃口，就像一道做得很美味的菜肴，让他们看到后会流口水。我担心自己功亏一篑，看起来不漂亮，无法掩盖肉体的庸俗，无法掩盖情绪、气息和变形。无论如何，我这么做过，为了尼诺，近期我也这么做过。我想向他展示出，我现在成了另一个女人，我现在变得更加精致，我不再是莉拉结婚时的那个小姑娘了，也不再是加利亚尼老师的孩子们聚会时的那个女学生，也不再是那个只写了一本书、被高估的女作家——就像当时在米兰，我出现在他面前的样子。现在，够了！他把他妻子带来了，我很气愤，我觉得他是故意的。我痛恨把自己和其他女人放在一起进行对比，更不要说是在一个男人的眼光下。一想到我会和照片里看到的那个漂亮女人同时出现，我就觉得胃里很难受。她会打量我，她会带着塔索街那些大小姐特有的傲慢，研究我的每个细节，她们从生下来就在学习打扮自己。在晚饭结束之后，和她丈夫单独在一起时，她会用非常犀利残酷的话来批判我。
So Nino had come with his wife; I was
terrified by the comparison. I knew what I was like, I knew the crude
physicality of my body, but for a good part of my life I had given it little
importance. I had grown up with one pair of shoes at a time, ugly dresses
sewed by my mother, makeup only on rare occasions. In recent years I had
begun to be interested in fashion, to educate my taste under Adele’s
guidance, and now I enjoyed dressing up. But sometimes—especially when I had
dressed not only to make a good impression in general but for a man—preparing
myself (this was the word) seemed to me to have something ridiculous about
it. All that struggle, all that time spent camouflaging myself when I could
be doing something else. The colors that suited me, the ones that didn’t, the
styles that made me look thinner, those that made me fatter, the cut that
flattered me, the one that didn’t. A lengthy, costly preparation. Reducing
myself to a table set for the sexual appetite of the male, to a well-cooked
dish to make his mouth water. And then the anguish of not succeeding, of not
seeming pretty, of not managing to conceal with skill the vulgarity of the
flesh with its moods and odors and imperfections. But I had done it. I had
done it also for Nino, recently. I had wanted to show him that I was
different, that I had achieved a refinement of my own, that I was no longer
the girl at Lila’s wedding, the student at the party of Professor Galiani’s
children, and not even the inexperienced author of a single book, as I must
have appeared in Milan. But now, enough. He had brought his wife and I was
angry, it seemed to me a mean thing. I hated competing in looks with another
woman, especially under the gaze of a man, and I suffered at the thought of
finding myself in the same place with the beautiful girl I had seen in the
photograph, it made me sick to my stomach. She would size me up, study every
detail with the pride of a woman of Via Tasso taught since birth to attend to
her body; then, at the end of the evening, alone with her husband, she would
criticize me with cruel lucidity.
我犹豫了好几个小时，最后我觉得我应该找个借口，晚饭不和他们一起吃，让我丈夫自己带着两个孩子去。但第二天，我没办法抵抗诱惑，我换上衣服，穿了又脱，脱了又穿，一个劲儿地折腾彼得罗。我不停地去他房间，一会儿穿着一件裙子，一会儿又换另一件，一会儿梳一个发型，一会儿又换成另一个发型，还一本正经地问他：“你觉得我看起来怎么样？”他漫不经心地看一眼我，说：“很好。”我回答说：“我穿上那件蓝裙子怎么样？”他点点头。但我自己不喜欢那件蓝色的衣服，那件衣服腰太紧。我穿上蓝衣服，回到他跟前，对他说：“穿上太紧了。”彼得罗很耐心地说：“是的，那件绿色的、上面有花儿的要好一些。”但穿上那件绿色带花儿的裙子，我不满意，我不想只是看起来好一些，我要看起来非常棒，我要我的耳环、头发、鞋子都很完美。总之，彼得罗没办法给我信心，因为他对我视而不见。我越来越觉得自己长得不好，胸和屁股太大，胯很宽，头发黄不拉几的，鼻子也太大。我的身体和我母亲很像，样子很糟糕，就差坐骨神经痛了，如果那样我就会和她一样，走路一瘸一拐的。但尼诺的妻子非常年轻漂亮，又有钱，她当然知道怎么为人处世，举手投足，那是我永远学不会的。这样，我不断地想放弃，坚持我最初的决定：我不去，让彼得罗带着孩子去，让他说我身体不舒服。但最后我还是去了，我穿了一件白衬衣，下面是一件鲜艳的花裙子，唯一的首饰就是我母亲给我的手镯。我把我写的东西放在包里，我告诉自己，我才不在乎她，在乎他，还有所有人的看法呢。
I hesitated for hours and finally decided
that I would invent an excuse, my husband would go alone with the children.
But the next day I couldn’t resist. I dressed, I undressed, I combed my hair,
I uncombed it, I nagged Pietro. I went to his room constantly, now with one
dress, now another, now with one hairdo, now another, and I asked him,
tensely: How do I look? He gave me a distracted glance, he said: You look
nice. I answered: And if I put on the blue dress? He agreed. But I put on the
blue dress and I didn’t like it, it was tight across the hips. I went back to
him, I said, It’s too tight. Pietro replied patiently Yes, the green one with
the flowers looks better. But I didn’t want the green one with the flowers to
simply look better, I wanted it to look great, and my earrings to look great,
and my hair to look great, and my shoes to look great. In other words I
couldn’t rely on Pietro, he looked at me without seeing me. And I felt more
and more ungainly, too much bosom, too much ass, wide hips, and that
dirty-blond hair, that big nose. I had the body of my mother, a graceless
body, all I needed was for the sciatica to return and start limping. Nino’s
wife, instead, was very young, beautiful, rich, and surely knew how to be in
the world, as I would never manage to learn. So I returned a thousand times
to my first decision: I won’t go, I’ll send Pietro with the children, I’ll
have him say I don’t feel well. I did go. I put on a white shirt over a
cheerful flowered skirt, the only jewel I wore was my mother’s old bracelet,
in my purse I put the text I had written. I said who gives a damn about her,
him, all of them.
-*-
104
我一直在磨蹭，最后我们迟到了，到餐馆时，萨拉托雷一家人已经坐在桌子前了。尼诺跟我们介绍了他的妻子埃利奥诺拉。我的心情马上就变了，是的，她的脸蛋很漂亮，漆黑的头发也很美，和照片上的一模一样，虽然我并不高，但她没我高，她没有胸，虽然她也挺胖的。她穿着一件一点儿也不适合她的火红色衣服。她特别快乐，一张嘴就暴露了她有些刺耳的声音，还有浓浓的那不勒斯口音，就是那些在海湾上的玻璃房子里打纸牌的人的口气。尤其是整个晚上，她表现得非常无知，虽然她学习了法律。她在批判所有人，所有事，表现得非常愤世嫉俗，而且为自己的立场感到很自豪。总之，她非常有钱、任性、粗鲁。她脸上秀美的线条，不断遭到厌烦表情的破坏。她时不时会发出神经质的笑声，嘿！嘿！嘿！这些笑声会打断她的谈话，甚至是句子。她开始针对佛罗伦萨——和那不勒斯相比，这里到底有什么好的；还有吃饭的餐馆——这地方太烂了；还有老板——真没教养；还有彼得罗说的任何话——真是胡说；还有我的两个女儿——我的天，她们真能说，拜托了，让我们耳朵清静一下；自然还有针对我——你在比萨上的学，为什么啊？那不勒斯的文科专业不是更好吗？我从来都没听说过你写的小说，什么时候出版的？八年前，我只有十四岁。只有在尼诺和她儿子面前，她一直很温柔。阿尔伯特很胖，也很漂亮，一脸幸福，他妈妈一直在赞美他。她一个劲儿地赞美自己的丈夫——没人比他好，他说什么她都表示同意，还会抚摸他，拥抱他，吻他。眼前的这个小姑娘，和莉拉，甚至是和西尔维亚有什么共同之处？她们没有任何共同点，那尼诺为什么会和她结婚。
Because of all my hesitations we arrived
late at the restaurant. The Sarratore family was already at the table. Nino
introduced his wife, Eleonora, and my mood changed. Oh yes, she had a pretty
face and beautiful black hair, just as in the photograph. But she was shorter
than I, and I wasn’t very tall. She had no bosom, though she was plump. And
she wore a bright-red dress that didn’t suit her at all. And she was wearing
too much jewelry. And from the first words she spoke she revealed a shrill
voice with the accent of a Neapolitan brought up by canasta players in a
house with a picture window on the gulf. But mainly, in the course of the
evening, she proved to be uneducated, even though she was studying law, and
inclined to speak ill of everything and everyone with the air of one who
feels she is swimming against the tide and is proud of it. Wealthy, in other
words, capricious, vulgar. Even her pleasing features were constantly spoiled
by an expression of irritation followed by a nervous laugh, ih ih ih, which
broke up her conversation, even the individual sentences. She was irritated
by Florence—What does it have that Naples doesn’t—by the
restaurant—terrible—by the owner—rude—by whatever Pietro said—What
nonsense—by the girls—My goodness, you talk so much, let’s have a little
quiet, please—and naturally me—You studied in Pisa, but why, literature in
Naples is much better, I’ve never heard of that novel of yours, when did it
come out, eight years ago I was fourteen. She was sweet only with her son and
with Nino. Albertino was sweet, round, with a happy expression, and Eleonora
did nothing but praise him. The same happened with her husband: no one was
better than he, she agreed with everything he said, and she touched him,
hugged him, kissed him. What did that girl have in common with Lila, even
with Silvia? Nothing. Why then had Nino married her?
整个晚上，我都在打量他。他对他妻子很客气，任凭她拥抱他轻吻他。她说那些没教养的蠢话时，他会面带微笑地看着她，会漫不经心地逗他儿子。但他对我的两个女儿的态度没有变，他非常关注她们，他也一直很愉快地和彼得罗说话，有时候甚至会和我说几句。我想，他妻子根本不会影响到他。埃利奥诺拉是他动荡生活的一个踏脚石，但不会给他带来任何影响，尼诺会走自己的路，不会在意她。因此，我越来越觉得自在，尤其是他认出了我的手镯，他抓住了我的手腕几秒钟，几乎像是抚摸了我一下；他和我丈夫开玩笑，问他有没有给我一些时间；尤其是，他问我写得怎么样了。
I observed her all evening. He was nice
to her, he let himself be hugged and kissed, he smiled at her affectionately
when she said rude and foolish things, he played distractedly with the child.
But he didn’t change his attitude toward my daughters, giving them a lot of
attention; he continued to talk pleasantly to Pietro, and even spoke a few
words to me. His wife—I wished to think—did not absorb him. Eleonora was one
of the many pieces of his busy life, but had no influence on him, Nino went
forward on his own path without attaching any importance to her. And so I
felt increasingly at ease, especially when he held my wrist for a few
seconds, and almost caressed it, showing that he recognized my bracelet;
especially when he kidded my husband, asking him if he had left me a little
more time for myself; especially when, right afterward, he asked if I had
made progress with my work.
“我写完了第一道。”我说。
“I finished a first draft,” I said.
尼诺一脸严肃地问彼得罗：“你看了吗？”
Nino turned to Pietro seriously: “Have
you read it?”
“埃莱娜什么都不让我看。”
“Elena never lets me read anything.”
“是你自己不想看。”我反唇相讥，但没有怨恨，就像那是我们之间的游戏。
“It’s you who don’t want to,” I replied,
but without bitterness, as if it were a game between us.
埃利奥诺拉这时候插了一句，她不想被排除在谈话之外：
Eleonora at that point interrupted, she
didn’t want to be left out.
“什么东西？”她问。但正当我要回答她时，她脑子忽然又想到了别的，她兴高采烈地问我：“明天尼诺工作时，你能不能陪我逛街啊？”
“What sort of thing is it?” she asked.
But just as I was about to answer, her flighty mind carried her away and she
asked me blithely: “Tomorrow will you take me to see the shops, while Nino
works?”
我装出一副客气的样子，微笑着说，可以啊。她列举了一大串她要买的东西。只有我们从餐馆出去时，我才有机会走到尼诺身边，我小声问他：
I smiled with false cordiality and she
began with a detailed list of things that she meant to buy. Only when we left
the restaurant I managed to approach Nino and whisper:
“你愿不愿意看一眼我写的东西？”
“Do you feel like looking at what I’ve
written?”
他带着一种真诚的惊异看着我：“你真的让我看啊？”
He looked at me with genuine amazement:
“Would you really let me read it?”
“是的，假如你不厌烦的话。”
“If it wouldn’t bore you, yes.”
我把我写的那些东西匆忙地交给了他，心跳如鼓，就好像我不希望彼得罗、埃利奥诺拉，还有我的两个女儿发现。
I handed him my pages furtively, my heart
pounding, as if I didn’t want Pietro, Eleonora, or the children to notice.
-*-
105
我整个晚上都没合眼。早上我强打起精神去赴埃利奥诺拉的约，因为我们约定早上十点在宾馆楼下见面。我告诉自己，不要干蠢事，不要问她，她丈夫是不是开始读我写的东西了。尼诺很忙，他需要时间。不要想太多了，至少等一个星期吧。
I didn’t close my eyes. In the morning I
resigned myself to the date with Eleonora; we were to meet at ten at the
hotel. Don’t do the stupid thing—I ordered myself—of asking her if her
husband began to read it: Nino is busy, it will take time; you mustn’t think
about it, at least a week will go by.
但是，九点整，我正要出门时，电话响了，是他打的电话。
But at precisely nine, when I was about
to leave, the phone rang and it was him.
“对不起，”他说，“我现在马上要进图书馆了，今天晚上之前我都没机会打电话给你，你确信我没有打扰到你？”
“I’m sorry,” he said, “but I’m on my way
to the library and I can’t telephone until tonight. Sure I’m not bothering
you?”
“绝对不会。”
“Absolutely not.”
“我看了你写的东西。”
“I read it.”
“啊，这么快？”
“Already?”
“是的，写得真是太好了。你的研究能力很强，条理清楚，创造力也让我很震撼，但最让我嫉妒的，是你的讲述能力。你写了一篇很难界定的东西，我不知道它是论文还是小说。我觉得很棒。”
“Yes, and it’s really excellent. You have
a great capacity for research, an admirable rigor, and astonishing
imagination. But what I envy most is your ability as a narrator. You’ve
written something hard to define, I don’t know if it’s an essay or a story.
But it’s extraordinary.”
“这是一种缺点吗？”
“Is that a flaw?”
“什么？”
“What?”
“我写的东西没法归类。”
“That it’s not classifiable.”
“才不是，这是它的一个优点。”
“Of course not, that’s one of its
merits.”
“你觉得，我应该就这样出版吗？”
“You think I should publish it as it is?”
“绝对应该。”
“Absolutely yes.”
“谢谢。”
“Thank you.”
“谢谢你，现在我要走了。你对埃利奥诺拉要有耐心，她看起来很霸道，但实际上是因为羞怯。我们明天早上回那不勒斯，选举之后我会联系你的，假如你愿意，我们可以聊聊。”
“Thank you, now I have to go. Be patient
with Eleonora, she seems aggressive but it’s only timidity. Tomorrow morning
we return to Naples, but I’ll be back after the elections and if you want we
can talk.”
“我当然乐意了。你会来我家里住吗？”
“It would be a pleasure. Will you come
and stay with us?”
“你确信我不会打搅你？”
“You’re sure I won’t bother you?”
“绝对不会。”
“Not at all.”
“好吧。”
“All right.”
他没挂电话，我听到了他的呼吸声。
He didn’t hang up, I heard him breathing.
“埃莱娜。”
“Elena.”
“嗯。”
“Yes.”
“关于莉娜，从小我们都错了。”
“Lina, when we were children, dazzled us
both.”
我感到非常不自在。
I felt an intense uneasiness.
“为什么这么说？”
“In what sense?”
“你把自己特有的能力都归到她身上。”
“You ended up attributing to her
capacities that are only yours.”
“那你呢？”
“And you?”
“我更糟糕，我很愚蠢地把在你身上看到的东西，以为是在她身上看到的。”
“I did worse. What I had seen in you, I
then stupidly seemed to find in her.”
有几秒钟，我没说话。为什么他要提到莉拉，为什么他要在电话里说这样的话？尤其是，他想告诉我什么？这仅仅是恭维话？或者他想告诉我，从小他就喜欢我，但在伊斯基亚，他错了，他把属于我的品质归到了另一个人身上。
I was silent for several seconds. Why had
he felt the need to bring up Lila, like that, on the telephone? And what was
he saying to me? Was it merely compliments? Or was he trying to communicate
to me that as a boy he would have loved me but that on Ischia he had
attributed to one what belonged to the other?
“你快点儿来。”我说。
“Come back soon,” I said.
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