英文小說連載《朗讀者The Reader》Part 2 Chapter 1

　　A FTER HANNA left the city， it took a while before I stopped watching for her everywhere， before I got used to the fact that afternoons had lost their shape， and before I could look at books and open them without asking myself whether they were suitable for reading aloud. It took a while before my body stopped yearning for hers； sometimes I myself was aware of my arms and legs groping for her in my sleep， and my brother reported more than once at table that I had called out “Hanna” in the night. I can also remember classes at school when I did nothing but dream of her， think of her. The feeling of guilt that had tortured me in the first weeks gradually faded. I avoided her building， took other routes， and six months later my family moved to another part of town. It wasn’t that I for got Hanna. But at a certain point the memory of her stopped accompanying me wherever I went. She stayed behind， the way a city stays behind as a train pulls out of the station. It’s there， somewhere behind you， and you could go back and make sure of it. But why should you？

　　I remember my last years of school and my first years at university as happy. Yet I can’t say very much about them. They were effortless； I had no difficulty with my final exams at school or with the legal studies that I chose because I couldn’t think of anything else I really wanted to do； I had no difficulty with friendships， with relationships or the end of relationships—I had no difficulty with anything. Everything was easy； nothing weighed heavily. Perhaps that is why my bundle of memories is so small. Or do I keep it small？ I also wonder if my memory of happiness is even true. If I think about it more， plenty of embarrassing and painful situations come to mind， and I know that even if I had said goodbye to my memory of Hanna， I had not overcome it. Never to let myself be humiliated or humiliate myself after Hanna， never to take guilt upon myself or feel guilty， never again to love anyone whom it would hurt to lose—I didn’t formulate any of this as I thought back then， but I know that’s how I felt.

　　I adopted a posture of arrogant superiority. I behaved as if nothing could touch or shake or confuse me. I got involved in nothing， and I remember a teacher who saw through this and spoke to me about it； I was arrogantly dismissive. I also remember Sophie. Not long after Hanna left the city， Sophie was diagnosed with tuberculosis. She spent three years in a sanitorium， returning just as I went to university. She felt lonely， and sought out contact with her old friends. It wasn’t hard for me to find a way into her heart. After we slept together， she realized I wasn’t interested in her； in tears， she asked， “What’s happened to you， what’s happened to you？” I remember my grandfather during one of my last visits before his death； he wanted to bless me， and I told him I didn’t believe in any of that and didn’t want it. It is hard for me to imagine that I felt good about behaving like that. I also remember that the smallest gesture of affection would bring a lump to my throat， whether it was directed at me or at someone else. Sometimes all it took was a scene in a movie. This juxtaposition of callousness and extreme sensitivity seemed suspicious even to me.

　　漢娜離開這座城市之后，我走到哪兒都期望能見到她，這種情況持續(xù)了好長一段時間。后來我才習慣于下午沒有她，我才在閱讀或隨便翻閱書籍時停止自問，哪些書適合朗讀。過了一段時間，我的肉體才不再對她的肉體那么渴望了。有時候，我自己也注意到了我的胳膊和大腿在睡覺時是怎樣地在尋摸著她。我哥哥多次在飯桌上開我的玩笑，說我在睡覺時叫喊著漢娜。我還記得我在課堂上魂不守舍，只是在想她的情景。最初幾周里所具有的這種令我痛苦萬分的負疚感后來消失了。我避開她住過的房子走另外的路，而且，半年后我的家搬到了另外的一個城區(qū)里。不是我把漢娜忘記了，而是不知從什么時候起對她的回憶自己停止了，不再伴隨我了。回憶被留在了身后，就像一列火車繼續(xù)向前行駛而把一座城市留在其后一樣。它依然存在，在什么地方潛伏著，我可以隨時駛向它，得到它。但是，我不必非這樣做不可。

　　我記得，中學生活的最后幾年和大學生活的最初幾年我過得非常愉快，但是，能讓我說得出的幸福又微乎其微。我沒費什么力氣就完成了學業(yè)，中學結(jié)業(yè)考試和出于無奈而選擇的法律專業(yè)對我來說沒什么了不起，友愛、情愛和離別對我來說也沒什么了不起，什么都不在話下。我把一切都看得很輕，這樣，一切對我來說都很輕松。也許正因為如此，記憶中的內(nèi)容才如此之少。或許這種少只是我的一種感覺？我也在懷疑我現(xiàn)在的這種認為當年我過著幸福生活的感覺符合當年的實際嗎？如果我再往前追憶的話，就會想起足以令我感到痛苦難堪的情景，我也就會意識到，雖然我告別了對漢娜的回憶，但卻沒有戰(zhàn)勝它。漢娜不會使我再低三下四了，我也不會再卑躬屈膝了，我不再欠誰什么，不再感到內(nèi)疚，不會再與任何人如此相愛，以至于她的離去會讓我感到痛苦。當時，我對這些并沒有這么清楚地思考過，但卻明顯地感覺到了。

　　我養(yǎng)成了傲慢自大、目空一切的習慣，表現(xiàn)得對任何事情都不聞不問，都無動于衷和不困不惑。我不參與任何事情。我還記得，有位老師對此看得很清楚。一次他與我談起此事，我很傲慢地就把他打發(fā)掉了。我也記得索菲。在漢娜離開這座城市不久，索菲被診斷患有肺結(jié)核。她在療養(yǎng)院度過了三年的光陰，在我剛上大學時她回來了。她感到孤獨寂寞，在尋找與老朋友的聯(lián)系，這樣，我很容易就贏得了她的心。我們一起睡過覺之后，她發(fā)現(xiàn)我的心不在她那兒，她含著眼淚說："你怎么了，你出了什么事？'我還記得，我的祖父去世前，在我最后一次去看望他的時候，他要給我祝福，我都解釋說我不信這個，它對我毫無價值。當時，我對自己的這種行為還感到沾沾自喜，現(xiàn)在想起來簡直木可思議。我也記得，一個小小的示愛的手勢，不管這手勢是針對我的還是對別人的，都會讓我激動得喉嚨咬住。有時候，電影里面的一個情節(jié)就足以使我如此激動。我既麻木不仁又多愁善感，這甚至連我自己都難以置信。