「五四遗事」英文版
《张爱玲中短篇小说》作者：张爱玲中短篇小说 2017-04-13 14:44
STALE MATES
- A Short Story Set in the Time When Love Came to China
Two men and two girls in a boat sat facing each other on whicker seats under the flat blue awning. Cups of tea stood on the low table between them. They were eating ling， water chestnuts about the size and shape of a Cupid‘s- bow mouth. The shells were dark purplish red and the kernels white.
“Miss Chou is very stylish today，”one of the men said. It was also stylish to address girls as“Miss.”
Miss Chou glared at him through her new spectacles and threw a ling shell at him. Her glasses had round black rims and perfectly flat lenses， as she was not near- sighted. The year was 1924， when eyeglasses were fashionable. Society girls wore them. Even street- walkers affected glasses order to look like girl students.
Each of the men sat with his own girl because the little boat balanced better this way than if the two girls sat side by side. The pale green water looked thick and just a little scummy， and yet had a suggestion of lingering fragrance like a basin of water in which a famous courtesan had washed her painted face.
The girls were around twenty- young for high school in those days when progressive women of all ages flocked to the primary schools. Miss Chou was much admired for her viva- city and boldness as being typical of the New Woman， while Miss Fan‘s was the beauty of a still life.
She sat smiling a little， her face a slim pointed oval， her long hair done in two round glossy black side knobs. She wore little make- up and no ornaments except a gold fountain pen tucked in her light mauve tunic. Her trumpet sleeves ended flaring just under the elbow.
The young men were Lo and Wen. Lo was tall and thin. His pale turquoise long gown hung well on him in a more literal sense than when the phrase was applied to westerner‘s clothes. He taught in the same school as Wen. They both owned land in their home village and taught school in Hangchow merely as an excuse to live by the West Lake， where every scenic spot was associated with the memory of some poet or reigning beauty. The four had been meeting almost daily for more than a year. They would go out on the lake， have dinner at one of the restaurants along the store， and go boating again if there was a moon. Somebody would read Shelley aloud and the girls held hands with each other when they were four of them， sometimes six but never two. The men were already married- a universal predicament. Practically everybody was married and had children before ever hearing of love. Wen and Lo had to be content with discussing the girls interminably between themselves， showing each other the girls’carefully their calligraphy， analyzing their personalities from the hand- writing. Love was such a new experience in China that a little of it went a long way. The sailed into a patch of yellowing lotus leaves， the large green plates crunching noisily against the boat. Then there was silence. The boatman and his little daughter were resting on their oars， letting the boat drift. Now and then the water made a small swallowing sound as if it had a piece of candy in its mouth.“Going home this weekend？”Miss Fan asked.“I suppose I can‘t get out of it this time，”Lo answered smiling.“My mother has been complaining.”
She smiled. The mention of his mother did not alter the fact that he was going back to his wife. Lately Lo had been felling increasingly guilty about going home， while Miss Fan had allowed her resentment to become more manifest before and after each visit.“I have made a decision，”he said in a low voice， looking at her. Then， when she did not ask him what it was， he said，“Miss Fan， will you wait for me？ It might take years.”
She had turned away， her head bent. Her hands played with the lower left corner of her slitted blouse， furling and unfurling it. Actually she did not agree to his getting a divorce until days later. But that evening， when the four of them dined at a restaurant famous for its lake fish， Lo already felt pledged and dedicated. All the wine he drank tasted like the last cup before setting out on a long hard journey on a cold night. The restaurant was called the House Beyond House. It leaned over the lake on three sides. Despite the view and its poetic name it was a nonchalantly ugly place with greasy old furniture. The waiter shouted orders to the kitchen in a singsong chant. When the glass dome was lifted from the plate of live shrimp， some of the shrimp jumped across the table， in and out of the sauce dish， and landed on Miss Fan， tailing soya sauce down the front of her blouse. Miss Chou squealed. In the dingy yellow electric light Miss Fan looked flushed and happy and did not seem to mind at all. Lo did not go home until the Saturday after that. The journey took two hours by train and wheelbarrow. His wife looked sheepish as her mother- in- law loudly and ostentatiously excused her from various duties because her husband was home. She was wearing a short blue overall with the red satin binding of a silk tunic showing underneath it. She had not been sure that he would be coming. He spoke to her that night about divorce. She cried all night. It was terrible， almost as if a judge were to sleep in the same bed with a condemned man. Say what he might， he knew he was consigning her to dishonorable widowhood for the rest of her life. His mother flew into a rage on being told. She would not hear of it. Lo went back to Hangchow and stopped coming home altogether. His mother got his uncle to go up to Hangchow and talk him out of his foolishness. He in turn managed to persuade a cousin to go and talk to his family. It took infernally long to negotiate through relatives who were， further more， unreliable transmitters of harsh words， being peacemakers at heart， especially where matrimony was concerned. To break up a marriage is a cardinal sin that automatically takes ten years off a man‘s given life span. Lo got a lawyer to write his wife an alarmingly worded request for divorce. His wife’s family， the Changs， boiled over with rage. Did he think his wife was an orphan？ Not all the Changs were dead. True， they could not revenge themselves on the faithless man unless his wife were to hang herself on his lintel. That would place his life and property entirely at their mercy. But it was not for them to recommend such a step to her. The head of the Lo clan was moved to speak. The old man threatened to invite the Family Law out of its niche and beat the young rascal in the ancestral temple.“Family Law”was a euphemism for the plank used for flogging. Miss Fan and Lo continued to see each other in the company of Wen and Miss Chou. Their friends were delighted and exhilarated by the courage of this undertaking- though it did put Wen in a difficult position， even if Miss Chou was never openly reproachful. It now appeared as though the wistfulness that was part of the beauty of their relationship was not one of those things that couldn‘t be helped. Lo was only home once in two years. They were difficult years for both the mother and daughter- in- law. They began to get on each other’s nerves. There was an unwritten law that a wife could never be divorced once she had worn morning white and the ramie scarf of mourning for a parent- in- law. So the old lady got the idea that her daughter- in- law wished for her death. It would certainly settle the divorce problem. But the old lady swore she would see the younger woman out of the house vertically before she made her own exit horizontally. Outwardly the divorce negotiations had not gained much ground in six years. Miss Fan‘s family never did approve. Now they kept reminding her that at twenty- six she was becoming an old maid. Soon she would not even qualify for t’ien- fang—room filler， a wife to fill up a widower‘s empty room. It seemed to her family that Lo was only waiting to have her on his own terms. It was doubtful whether he was seriously trying to get a divorce. Possibly alimony was the stumbling block. There were those who said he was actually quite poor. What little he had must have dwindled away through his long absence from home， with his estate left in the hands of an estranged wife. There had been some unpleasantness over the divorce question at the school where he was teaching. If he didn’t depend on his job for a living， why didn‘t he resign？
Miss Chou told Wen confidentially that Miss Fan had been out to dinner with a pawnbroker， chaperoned by members of her family and a lady matchmaker. Wen was not to tell Lo. In his indignation Wen told Lo anyway， though of course he added，“It‘s all her family’s doing.”
“They didn‘t tie her up with a rope and drag her to the restaurant， did they？”Lo said sardonically. He promised not to take up the matter with her immediately as that would betray the source of his
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- A Short Story Set in the Time When Love Came to China
Two men and two girls in a boat sat facing each other on whicker seats under the flat blue awning. Cups of tea stood on the low table between them. They were eating ling， water chestnuts about the size and shape of a Cupid‘s- bow mouth. The shells were dark purplish red and the kernels white.
“Miss Chou is very stylish today，”one of the men said. It was also stylish to address girls as“Miss.”
Miss Chou glared at him through her new spectacles and threw a ling shell at him. Her glasses had round black rims and perfectly flat lenses， as she was not near- sighted. The year was 1924， when eyeglasses were fashionable. Society girls wore them. Even street- walkers affected glasses order to look like girl students.
Each of the men sat with his own girl because the little boat balanced better this way than if the two girls sat side by side. The pale green water looked thick and just a little scummy， and yet had a suggestion of lingering fragrance like a basin of water in which a famous courtesan had washed her painted face.
The girls were around twenty- young for high school in those days when progressive women of all ages flocked to the primary schools. Miss Chou was much admired for her viva- city and boldness as being typical of the New Woman， while Miss Fan‘s was the beauty of a still life.
She sat smiling a little， her face a slim pointed oval， her long hair done in two round glossy black side knobs. She wore little make- up and no ornaments except a gold fountain pen tucked in her light mauve tunic. Her trumpet sleeves ended flaring just under the elbow.
The young men were Lo and Wen. Lo was tall and thin. His pale turquoise long gown hung well on him in a more literal sense than when the phrase was applied to westerner‘s clothes. He taught in the same school as Wen. They both owned land in their home village and taught school in Hangchow merely as an excuse to live by the West Lake， where every scenic spot was associated with the memory of some poet or reigning beauty. The four had been meeting almost daily for more than a year. They would go out on the lake， have dinner at one of the restaurants along the store， and go boating again if there was a moon. Somebody would read Shelley aloud and the girls held hands with each other when they were four of them， sometimes six but never two. The men were already married- a universal predicament. Practically everybody was married and had children before ever hearing of love. Wen and Lo had to be content with discussing the girls interminably between themselves， showing each other the girls’carefully their calligraphy， analyzing their personalities from the hand- writing. Love was such a new experience in China that a little of it went a long way. The sailed into a patch of yellowing lotus leaves， the large green plates crunching noisily against the boat. Then there was silence. The boatman and his little daughter were resting on their oars， letting the boat drift. Now and then the water made a small swallowing sound as if it had a piece of candy in its mouth.“Going home this weekend？”Miss Fan asked.“I suppose I can‘t get out of it this time，”Lo answered smiling.“My mother has been complaining.”
She smiled. The mention of his mother did not alter the fact that he was going back to his wife. Lately Lo had been felling increasingly guilty about going home， while Miss Fan had allowed her resentment to become more manifest before and after each visit.“I have made a decision，”he said in a low voice， looking at her. Then， when she did not ask him what it was， he said，“Miss Fan， will you wait for me？ It might take years.”
She had turned away， her head bent. Her hands played with the lower left corner of her slitted blouse， furling and unfurling it. Actually she did not agree to his getting a divorce until days later. But that evening， when the four of them dined at a restaurant famous for its lake fish， Lo already felt pledged and dedicated. All the wine he drank tasted like the last cup before setting out on a long hard journey on a cold night. The restaurant was called the House Beyond House. It leaned over the lake on three sides. Despite the view and its poetic name it was a nonchalantly ugly place with greasy old furniture. The waiter shouted orders to the kitchen in a singsong chant. When the glass dome was lifted from the plate of live shrimp， some of the shrimp jumped across the table， in and out of the sauce dish， and landed on Miss Fan， tailing soya sauce down the front of her blouse. Miss Chou squealed. In the dingy yellow electric light Miss Fan looked flushed and happy and did not seem to mind at all. Lo did not go home until the Saturday after that. The journey took two hours by train and wheelbarrow. His wife looked sheepish as her mother- in- law loudly and ostentatiously excused her from various duties because her husband was home. She was wearing a short blue overall with the red satin binding of a silk tunic showing underneath it. She had not been sure that he would be coming. He spoke to her that night about divorce. She cried all night. It was terrible， almost as if a judge were to sleep in the same bed with a condemned man. Say what he might， he knew he was consigning her to dishonorable widowhood for the rest of her life. His mother flew into a rage on being told. She would not hear of it. Lo went back to Hangchow and stopped coming home altogether. His mother got his uncle to go up to Hangchow and talk him out of his foolishness. He in turn managed to persuade a cousin to go and talk to his family. It took infernally long to negotiate through relatives who were， further more， unreliable transmitters of harsh words， being peacemakers at heart， especially where matrimony was concerned. To break up a marriage is a cardinal sin that automatically takes ten years off a man‘s given life span. Lo got a lawyer to write his wife an alarmingly worded request for divorce. His wife’s family， the Changs， boiled over with rage. Did he think his wife was an orphan？ Not all the Changs were dead. True， they could not revenge themselves on the faithless man unless his wife were to hang herself on his lintel. That would place his life and property entirely at their mercy. But it was not for them to recommend such a step to her. The head of the Lo clan was moved to speak. The old man threatened to invite the Family Law out of its niche and beat the young rascal in the ancestral temple.“Family Law”was a euphemism for the plank used for flogging. Miss Fan and Lo continued to see each other in the company of Wen and Miss Chou. Their friends were delighted and exhilarated by the courage of this undertaking- though it did put Wen in a difficult position， even if Miss Chou was never openly reproachful. It now appeared as though the wistfulness that was part of the beauty of their relationship was not one of those things that couldn‘t be helped. Lo was only home once in two years. They were difficult years for both the mother and daughter- in- law. They began to get on each other’s nerves. There was an unwritten law that a wife could never be divorced once she had worn morning white and the ramie scarf of mourning for a parent- in- law. So the old lady got the idea that her daughter- in- law wished for her death. It would certainly settle the divorce problem. But the old lady swore she would see the younger woman out of the house vertically before she made her own exit horizontally. Outwardly the divorce negotiations had not gained much ground in six years. Miss Fan‘s family never did approve. Now they kept reminding her that at twenty- six she was becoming an old maid. Soon she would not even qualify for t’ien- fang—room filler， a wife to fill up a widower‘s empty room. It seemed to her family that Lo was only waiting to have her on his own terms. It was doubtful whether he was seriously trying to get a divorce. Possibly alimony was the stumbling block. There were those who said he was actually quite poor. What little he had must have dwindled away through his long absence from home， with his estate left in the hands of an estranged wife. There had been some unpleasantness over the divorce question at the school where he was teaching. If he didn’t depend on his job for a living， why didn‘t he resign？
Miss Chou told Wen confidentially that Miss Fan had been out to dinner with a pawnbroker， chaperoned by members of her family and a lady matchmaker. Wen was not to tell Lo. In his indignation Wen told Lo anyway， though of course he added，“It‘s all her family’s doing.”
“They didn‘t tie her up with a rope and drag her to the restaurant， did they？”Lo said sardonically. He promised not to take up the matter with her immediately as that would betray the source of his