诺贝尔文学经典:《宠儿》第1章Part 23

It began as a little girl's houseplay, but as her desires changed, so did the play. Quiet, primate andcompletely secret except for the noisome cologne signal that thrilled the rabbits before it confusedthem. First a playroom (where the silence was softer), then a refuge (from her brothers' fright),soon the place became the point. In that bower, closed off from the hurt of the hurt world, Denver'simagination produced its own hunger and its own food, which she badly needed because lonelinesswore her out. Wore her out. Veiled and protected by the live green walls, she felt ripe and clear,and salvation was as easy as a wish.
Once when she was in the boxwood, an autumn long before Paul D moved into the house with hermother, she was made suddenly cold by a combination of wind and the perfume on her skin. Shedressed herself, bent down to leave and stood up in snowfall: a thin and whipping snow very likethe picture her mother had painted as she described the circumstances of Denver's birth in a canoestraddled by a whitegirl for whom she was named.
Shivering, Denver approached the house, regarding it, as she always did, as a person rather than astructure. A person that wept, sighed, trembled and fell into fits. Her steps and her gaze were the cautious ones of a child approaching a nervous, idle relative (someone dependent but proud). Abreastplate of darkness hid all the windows except one. Its dim glow came from Baby Suggs'room. When Denver looked in, she saw her mother on her knees in prayer, which was not was unusual (even for a girl who had lived all her life in a house peopled by the livingactivity of the dead) was that a white dress knelt down next to her mother and had its sleeve aroundher mother's waist. And it was the tender embrace of the dress sleeve that made Denver rememberthe details of her birth — that and the thin, whipping snow she was standing in, like the fruit ofcommon flowers. The dress and her mother together looked like two friendly grown-up women —one (the dress) helping out the other. And the magic of her birth, is miracle in fact, testified to that friendliness as did her own name.

开头只是一个小女孩的过家家，然而随着她欲望的改变，游戏也变了样。又安静、又幽僻，如果不是刺鼻的香水气味先吸引、继而又熏晕了那些兔子，那里也是完全隐秘的。它先是一间游戏室（那儿的寂静比别处更柔和），然后是个避难所（为了躲开哥哥们的恐惧），再过不久，那个地方 本身成了目的地。在那间凉亭里，与受伤的世界的伤害彻底隔绝，丹芙的想象造出了它自己的饥饿和它自己的食物，她迫切地需要它们，因为她被孤独苦苦纠缠。苦苦纠缠。在生机勃勃的绿墙的遮蔽和保护下，她感到成熟、清醒，而拯救就如同愿望一样唾手可得。
保罗·D搬进来和妈妈同住了；在此之前很久的一个秋天，有一次，她正待在黄杨丛中间，突然，风和皮肤上的香水一齐使她感到冰冷。她穿上衣服，弯下身出去，再站起来时，已经下雪了：薄薄的雪花漫天飞舞，真像她妈妈说起她在独木舟里降生时描绘的那幅图画，丹芙就是因那个叉腿站在船上的白人姑娘而得名的。
丹芙战栗着走近房子，像往常一样把它当做一个人，而不是一座建筑。一个哭泣、叹息、颤抖，时常发作的人。她的步履和凝视都分外谨慎，样子好像一个孩子在接近一个神经过敏、游手好闲的亲戚（寄人篱下却又自尊自大）。黑夜的胸甲遮住了所有窗户，只有一扇剩下。它昏暗的光来自贝比·萨格斯的房间。丹芙望进去，看见她妈妈正在跪着祈祷。这很寻常。然而不寻常的是（甚至对于一个一直在鬼魂活动频繁的房子里居住的女孩来说），有一条白裙子跪在她妈妈身旁，一只袖子拥着妈妈的腰。正是这只裙袖的温柔拥抱，使丹芙想起她出生的细节———想起了拥抱，还有她现在正立身其中的薄薄的、飘舞的雪花，它们就像寻常花朵结下的果实。那条裙子和她妈妈在一起，好像两个友好的成年女子———一个（裙子）扶着另一个。还有她降生的传奇，实际上是个奇迹，和她自己的名字一样，是那次友爱的见证。