Lonesome Dove 孤鸽镇

杰瑞发布于2023-02-09

Bestselling winner of the 1986 Pulitzer Prize,Lonesome Dove is an American classic c. First publish ed in 1985, Larry McMurtry' epic novel combined flawless writing with a storyline and setting that gripped the popular imagination, and ultimately resulted in a series of four novels and an Emmy-winning television miniseries. 《孤鸽镇》是1986年普利策奖的畅销书得主,是一部美国经典小说。拉里·麦默特里(Larry McMurtry)的史诗小说于1985年首次出版,将完美的写作与吸引大众想象力的故事情节和背景相结合,最终创作了一系列四部小说和一部艾美奖电视迷你剧。

“Dangerous to write to two women at the same time,” he said. “Especially when I’m this lightheaded. I might not be as particular in my sentiments as women expect a fellow to be.” But he wrote on. Then Call saw his hand drop and thought he was dead. He wasn’t, but he was too weak to fold the second note. Call folded it for him.“Woodrow, quite a party,” Augustus said.
“What?” Call asked.
Augustus was looking out the window. “Look there at Montana,” he said. “It’s fine and fresh, and now we’ve come and it’ll soon be ruint, like my legs.” Then he turned his head back to Call. “I near forgot,” he said. “Give my saddle to Pea Eye. I cut his up to brace my crutch, and I wouldn’t want him to think ill of me.” “Well, he don’t, Gus,” Call said.
奥古斯都望着窗外。“看看蒙大拿州,”他说。“它很好,很新鲜,现在我们来了,它很快就会像我的腿一样腐烂。”然后他转过头来呼唤。“我差点忘了,”他说。“把我的马鞍给Pea Eye。我为了支撑我的拐杖而把他割断了,我不想让他觉得我不好。”“好吧,他不想,格斯,”Call说。
But Augustus had closed his eyes. He saw a mist, red at first but then as silvery as the morning mists in the valleys of Tennessee.
但奥古斯都已经闭上了眼睛。他看到一片薄雾,起初是红色的,但后来像田纳西州山谷里的晨雾一样银色。
Call sat by the bed, hoping he would open his eyes again. He could hear Gus breathing. The sun set, and Call moved back to the chair, listening to his friend’s ragged breath. He tried to remain alert, but he was tired. Some time later the doctor came in with a lamp. Call noticed blood dripping off the sheet onto the floor.
Call坐在床边,希望他能再次睁开眼睛。他能听到格斯的呼吸声。太阳落山了,Call回到椅子上,听着朋友急促的呼吸。他试图保持警惕,但他累了。过了一会儿,医生拿着灯进来了。Call注意到血从床单上滴落到地板上。
“That bed’s full of blood and your friend’s dead,” the doctor said.
“那张床上满是血,你朋友死了,”医生说。
Call felt bad for having dozed. He saw that one of Gus’s notes to the women was still on the bed. There was blood on it, but not much. Call wiped the note carefully on his pants leg before going downstairs.
打了个盹,打电话感觉很不舒服。他看到格斯给女人们写的一封信还在床上。上面有血迹,但不多。下楼前,Call小心地擦了擦裤腿上的纸条。
WHEN CALL TOLD Dr. Mobley that Gus wanted to be transported to Texas to be buried, the little doctor merely smiled.
当CALL告诉Mobley医生Gus想被送往德克萨斯州安葬时,这位小医生只是笑了笑。
“People have their whimsies,” he said. “Your friend was a crazy patient. I imagine we’d have quarreled if he’d lived.” “I imagine,” Call said. “But I intend to honor the wish.” “We’ll pack him in charcoal and salt,” the doctor said. “It’ll take a barrel or two. Luckily there’s a good salt lick not far from here.” “I may need to leave him all winter,” Call said. “Is there a place I could store him?” “My harness shed would do fine,” the doctor said. “It’s well ventilated, and he’ll keep better in the cool. Do you want his other leg?” “Well, where is it?” Call asked, startled.
“人们有他们的奇思妙想,”他说。“你的朋友是个疯狂的病人。我想如果他活着,我们会吵架的。”“我想,”Call说。“但我打算实现这个愿望。”“我们会用木炭和盐把他包起来,”医生说。“这需要一两桶。幸运的是,离这里不远有一个很好的盐舔点。”“我可能需要整个冬天都离开他,”Call说。“有地方可以存放它吗?”“我的马具棚可以,”医生说。“这里通风很好,他在凉爽的地方会保持得更好。你想要他的另一条腿吗?”“好吧,它在哪里?”Call吃惊地问。
“Oh, I’ve got it,” the doctor said. “Contrary as he was, he might have asked me to sew it back on. It’s a rotten old thing.” Call went outside and walked down the empty street to the livery stable. The doctor had told him to rest and had offered to locate the undertaker himself.
“哦,我明白了,”医生说。“虽然他是,他可能会让我把它缝回去。这是一件烂东西。”电话走到外面,沿着空荡荡的街道走到制服铺。医生让他休息,并主动提出自己去找殡仪馆老板。
The Hell Bitch looked up when he came into the livery stable, where he had put her. He felt an impulse to saddle her and ride out into the country, but weariness overcame him and he threw his bedroll on some straw and lay down. He couldn’t sleep, though. He regretted not trying harder to save Gus. He should have disarmed him at once and seen that the other leg was amputated. Of course, Gus might have shot him, but he felt he should have taken the risk.
当地狱婊子走进他放她的马厩时,他抬起头来。他有一种冲动,想给她套上马鞍,骑马到乡下去,但他感到疲倦,于是把床单扔在稻草上躺下。不过,他睡不着。他后悔没有更加努力地救格斯。他应该立刻解除他的武装,并看到另一条腿被截肢了。当然,格斯可能开枪打死了他,但他觉得自己应该冒这个险。
It seemed he only dozed a minute when the sun streamed into the livery stable. Call didn’t welcome the day. All he had to think about were mistakes, it seemed—mistakes and death. His old rangering gang was gone, only Pea Eye left, of all of them. Jake was dead in Kansas, Deets in Wyoming, and now Gus in Montana.
太阳照进马厩时,他似乎只打了一分钟盹。电话不欢迎这一天。他所要考虑的似乎是错误——错误和死亡。他的老护林队已经不见了,只剩下Pea Eye了。杰克死在堪萨斯州,迪茨死在怀俄明州,现在格斯死在蒙大拿州。
An old man named Gill owned the livery stable. He had rheumatism and walked slowly and with a limp. But he was a kindly old man, with a rusty beard and one milky eye. He came limping in not long after Call woke up.
一位名叫吉尔的老人拥有这家马厩。他患有风湿病,走路又慢又软。但他是个和蔼的老人,留着生锈的胡子,一只乳白色的眼睛。Call醒来后不久,他一瘸一拐地走了进来。
“I guess you need a coffin,” the old man said. “Get Joe Veitenheimer, he’ll make you a good one.” “It will have to be sturdy,” Call said.
“我想你需要一口棺材,”老人说。“去找乔·维滕海默,他会让你成为一个好孩子。”“它必须坚固,”卡尔说。
“I know,” the old man said. “That’s all the talk is in this town today, about the feller who wants to be hauled all the way to Texas to be stuck in the ground.” “He considered it his home,” Call said, seeing no reason to go into the part about the picnics.
“我知道,”老人说。“这就是今天这个小镇上的所有话题,关于一个想被拖到德克萨斯州被困在地上的家伙。”“他把这里当作自己的家,”Call说,他觉得没有理由去参加野餐。
“My attitude is, why not, if he can find someone to tote him,” old man Gill said. “I’d be buried in Georgia, if I could have my way, but it’s a far piece to Georgia and nobody’s gonna tote me. So I’ll be buried up here in this cold,” he added. “I don’t like this cold. Of course, they say when you’re dead the temperature don’t concern you, but who knows the truth on that?” “I don’t,” Call said.
“People got opinions, that’s all they’ve got,” the old man grumbled. “If somebody was to go and come back, now that’s an opinion I’d listen to.” The old man forked the Hell Bitch a little hay. When he stood watching her eat, the mare snaked out her neck and tried to bite him, causing the old man to stumble backward and nearly stumble over his own pitchfork.
“Dern, she ain’t very grateful,” he said. “Struck at me like a snake, and I just fed her. Typical female. My wife done exactly the same a hunnert times. Buried her in Missouri, where it’s considerable warmer.” Call found the carpenter and ordered a coffin. Then he borrowed a wagon and team and a big scoop shovel from a drunken man at the hardware store. It struck him that the citizenry of Miles City seemed to drink liquor day and night.
Half the town was drunk at dawn.
“The lick’s about six miles north,” the hardware-store man said. “You can find it by the game trails.” Sure enough, several antelope were at the salt lick, and he saw the tracks of buffalo and elk. He worked up a sweat scooping the salt into the wagon.
When he got back to town the undertaker had finished with Gus. The undertaker was a tall man, with the shakes—his whole body trembled, even when he was standing still. “It’s a nervous disease,” he said. “I took it when I was young, and had it ever since. I put extra fluid in your friend, since I understand he’ll be aboveground for a while.” “Yes, until next summer,” Call said.
“I don’t know how he’ll do,” the undertaker said. “If he weren’t a human you could smoke him, like a ham.” “I’ll try salt and charcoal,” Call said.When the coffin was ready, Call bought a fine bandana to cover Gus’s face with. Dr. Mobley brought in the leg he had removed, wrapped in some burlap and soaked in formaldehyde to cover the smell. A bartender and the blacksmith helped pack the charcoal in. Call felt very awkward, though everyone was relaxed and cheerful. Once Gus was well covered, they filled the coffin to the top with salt and nailed it shut. Call gave the extra salt to the drunk at the hardware store to compensate him a little for the use of his wagon. They carried the coffin around and put it in the doctor’s harness shed on top of two empty barrels.
“That’ll do fine,” Dr. Mobley said. “He’ll be there, and if you change your mind about the trip, we’ll just bury him. He’ll have lots of company here. We’ve got more people in the cemetery already than we’ve got in the town.” Call didn’t like the implication. He looked at the doctor sternly. “Why would I change my mind?” he asked.
The doctor had been nipping at a flask of whiskey during the packing, and was fairly drunk. “Dying people get foolish,” he said. “They forget they won’t be alive to appreciate the things they ask people to do for them. People make any kind of promise, but when they realize it’s a dead creature they made the promise to, they usually squirm a little and then forget the whole business. It’s human nature.” “I’m told I don’t have a human nature,” Call said. “How much do I owe you?” “Nothing,” the doctor said. “The deceased paid me himself.” “I’ll get him in the spring,” Call said.
When he got back to the livery stable he found old man Gill drinking from a jug. It reminded him of Gus, for the old man would hook one finger through the loop of the jug and throw back his head and drink. He was sitting in the wheelbarrow, his pitchfork across his lap, glaring at the Hell Bitch.
当他回到马厩时,他发现吉尔老人正在用水罐喝水。这让他想起了格斯,因为老人会用一根手指钩住罐子的环,然后仰起头喝水。他坐在独轮车里,腿上放着干草叉,怒视着那个该死的婊子。