London Recreations伦敦的消遣

查尔斯·狄更斯 赵喜梅

【導读】查尔斯·狄更斯（1812—1870），英国维多利亚文学的主要代表，是英国文学史乃至世界文学史上最伟大的小说家之一。狄更斯曾做过律师事务所的文书和自由新闻记者，后担任议会记者，记者经历将他引向了小说创作。早期的文学创作包括匿名和以其弟奥古斯塔斯的诨名“博兹”（Boz）为笔名于各报刊发表的随笔、特写，1836年这些已发表之作连同未刊文章结集出版，《博兹札记》（Sketches by Boz）因此问世。一个世纪后，作家J. B. 普里斯特利受麦克米伦出版社之托，从《博兹札记》中甄选最能聚焦19世纪30年代伦敦的12篇文章，并为之作序，于是《伦敦生活景象》（Scenes of London Life）于1947年出版了。

本篇节选自上述文集。在作为记者的年轻狄更斯的笔下，伦敦是纪实的城，作者对这座城市的地图近乎了若指掌，既洞悉其区隔，又了解市民阶层各不相同的真实生活，包括其消遣。有的消遣是为了打发空虚，有的用以满足虚荣心，有的可以排遣不幸与孤独，有的则纯为娱乐。随着地理空间由伦敦的闹市中心向边缘延伸，上层小众所谓的文雅消遣变为下层的市井狂欢，也体现出由静到动、从了无生趣到生机盎然的规律。作者或是多愁善感地强调家庭和爱的美德，或是以喜剧欢闹的方式再现芸芸众生的生活。由于爱的贫乏，自视甚高的小姐和家境殷实的先生的空虚并不能得到实在的填补;因为爱，小中产阶级的老夫妻的苦楚与不幸得以排遣;而大多数底层中产阶级市民也自有其热爱，自有其取乐之道。

The wish of persons in the humbler classes of life， to ape the manners and customs of those whom fortune has placed above them， is often the subject of remark， and not unfrequently of complaint. The inclination may， and no doubt does， exist to a great extent， among the small gentility—the would-be aristocrats—of the middle classes. Tradesmen and clerks， with fashionable novel-reading families， and circulating-library-subscribing daughters， get up small assemblies in humble imitation of Almack’s1， and promenade the dingy “large room” of some second-rate hotel with as much complacency as the enviable few who are privileged to exhibit their magnificence in that exclusive haunt of fashion and—foolery. Aspiring young ladies， who read flaming accounts of some “fancy fair2 in high life，” suddenly grow desperately charitable; visions of admir-ation and matrimony float before their eyes; some wonderfully meritorious institution， which， by the strangest accident in the world， has never been heard of before， is discovered to be in a languishing condition： Thomson’s great room， or Johnson’s nursery-ground， is forthwith engaged， and the aforesaid young ladies， from mere charity， exhibit themselves for three days， from twelve to four， for the small charge of one shilling per head！ With the exception of these classes of society， however， and a few weak and insignificant persons， we do not think the attempt at imitation to which we have alluded， prevails in any great degree. …

If the regular City man， who leaves Lloyd’s3 at five o’clock， and drives home to Hackney， Clapton， Stamford Hill，4 or elsewhere， can be said to have any daily recreation beyond his dinner， it is his garden. He never does anything to it with his own hands; but he takes great pride in it notwithstanding; and if you are desirous of paying your addresses5 to the youngest daughter， be sure to be in raptures with every flower and shrub it contains. … If you call on him on Sunday in summer-time， about an hour before dinner， you will find him sitting in an arm-chair， on the lawn behind the house， with a straw hat on， reading a Sunday paper. A short distance from him you will most likely observe a handsome paroquet in a large brass-wire cage; ten to one but the two eldest girls are loitering in one of the side-walks accompanied by a couple of young gentlemen， who are holding parasols over them—of course only to keep the sun off—while the younger children， with the under nursery-maid， are strolling listlessly about， in the shade. Beyond these occasions， his delight in his garden appears to arise more from the consciousness of possession than actual enjoyment of it. When he drives you down to dinner on a week-day， he is rather fatigued with the occupations of the morning， and tolerably cross6 into the bargain7; but when the cloth is removed， and he has drank three or four glasses of his favourite port， he orders the French windows of his dining-room （which of course look into the garden） to be opened， and throwing a silk handkerchief over his head， and leaning back in his armchair， descants at considerable length upon its beauty， and the cost of maintaining it. …

There is another and a very different class of men， whose recreation is their garden. An individual of this class resides some short distance from town—say in the Hampstead Road8， or the Kilburn Road9， or any other road where the houses are small and neat， and have little slips of back-garden. He and his wife—who is as clean and compact a little body as himself—have occupied the same house ever since he retired from business twenty years ago. They have no family. They once had a son， who died at about five years old. The child’s portrait hangs over the mantelpiece in the best sitting-room， and a little cart he used to draw about is carefully preserved as a relic. The only other recreation he has is the newspaper， which he peruses every day， from beginning to end， generally reading the most interesting pieces of intelligence to his wife， during breakfast.

In fine weather the old gentleman is almost constantly in the garden; and when it is too wet to go into it， he will look out of the window at it， by the hour together. He has always something to do there， and you will see him digging， and sweeping， and cutting， and planting， with manifest delight. In spring time， there is no end to the sowing of seeds， and sticking little bits of wood over them， with labels， which look like epitaphs to their memory; and in the evening， when the sun has gone down， the perseverance with which he lugs a great watering-pot about is perfectly astonishing. … On a summer’s evening， when the large watering-pot has been filled and emptied some fourteen times， and the old couple have quite exhausted themselves by trotting about， you will see them sitting happily together in the little summerhouse， enjoying the calm and peace of the twilight， and watching the shadows as they fall upon the garden， and gradually growing thicker and more sombre， obscure the tints of their gayest flowers….  These are their only recreations， and they require no more. They have within themselves the materials of comfort and content; and the only anxiety of each is to die before the other.

Let us turn now to another portion of the London population， whose recreations present about as strong a contrast as can well be conceived—we mean the Sunday pleasurers; and let us beg our readers to imagine themselves stationed by our side in some well-known rural “Tea-gardens.”

The heat is intense this afternoon， and the people， of whom there are additional parties arriving every moment， look as warm as the tables which have been recently painted， and have the appearance of being red-hot. What a dust and noise！ Men and women—boys and girls—sweethearts and married people—babies in arms， and children in chaises10—pipes and shrimps—cigars and periwinkles—tea and tobacco. Gentlemen， in alarming waistcoats， and steel watch-guards， promenading about， three abreast， with surprising dignity—ladies， with great， long， white pocket-handkerchiefs like small table-cloths in their hands， chasing one another on the grass in the most playful and interesting manner， with the view of attracting the attention of the aforesaid gentlemen—husbands in perspective ordering bottles of ginger-beer for the objects of their affections， with a lavish disregard of expense; and the said objects washing down11 huge quantities of “shrimps” and “winkles，” with an equal disregard of their own bodily health and subsequent comfort—boys， with great silk hats just balanced on the top of their heads， smoking cigars， and trying to look as if they liked them—gentlemen in pink shirts and blue waistcoats， occasionally upsetting either themselves， or somebody else， with their own canes.

Some of the finery of these people provokes a smile， but they are all clean， and happy， and disposed to be good-  natured and sociable. Those two mother-ly-looking women in the smart pelisses， who are chatting so confidentially， inserting a “ma’am” at every fourth word， scraped an acquaintance about a quarter of an hour ago… . The two men in the blue coats and drab trousers， who were walking up and down， smoking their pipes， are their husbands. The party in the opposite box are a pretty fair specimen of the generality of the visitors. These are the father and mother， and old grandmother： a young man and woman， and an individual addressed by the euphonious title of “Uncle Bill，” who is evidently the wit of the party. …

Observe the inexpressible delight of the old grandmother， at Uncle Bill’s splendid joke of “tea for four： bread-and-butter for forty”; and the loud explosion of mirth which follows his wafering a paper “pigtail” on the waiter’s collar. The young man is evidently “keeping company” with Uncle Bill’s niece： and Uncle Bill’s hints—such as “Don’t forget me at the dinner， you know，” “I shall look out for the cake， Sally，” “I’ll be godfather to your first—wager12 it’s a boy，” and so forth， are equally embarrassing to the young people， and delightful to the elder ones. …

It is getting dark， and the people begin to move. The field leading to town is quite full of them; …the children are tired， …—the mothers begin to wish they were at home again—sweethearts grow more sentimental than ever， as the time for parting arrives—the gardens look mournful enough， …—and the waiters who have been running about incessantly for the last six hours， think they feel a little tired， as they count their glasses and their gains.

寒微階级出身的人们总想仿效好运眷顾者的风俗习惯，这往往成为人们的谈资，时而还是牢骚的话题。无疑，这一趋势很大程度上于中产阶级的小士绅——准贵族——中盛行。商人和职员，连同时髦的小说阅读家庭，以及定期向流动图书馆提供捐助的小姐们，拙劣地模仿奥尔马克俱乐部组织小型集会，于某家二流旅馆昏暗的“宽敞房间”内踱步，一副沾沾自喜的样子，活脱脱那种招人妒羡的骄子有幸在时髦——且愚蠢——的专属之地显示他们的尊贵。有抱负的年轻小姐们读到关于某些“上流社会义卖会”的煽情报道，突然无可救药地发起善心;仰慕的目光及婚姻的景象浮现在她们的眼前;某个颇受赞许的机构，之前出乎意外地无人知晓，如今被发现正走向衰败，如汤姆森大楼，或约翰逊保育院——这样的地方即刻被占用，而之前提到的小姐们，出于纯粹的仁慈，要在此亮相3天，从午间12点到下午4点，只为收取每人小小1先令的费用！然而，除了社会中的这些阶级和一些弱势的、微不足道的人，我们以为我们所谈的那种模仿上流社会的尝试无论如何都不会大行其道。……

看看一位普通的城里人，五点钟离开劳埃德保险公司，回到哈克尼区的家，无论是克莱普顿、史丹福尔丘，还是别的什么地方，如果说除晚餐外他还有什么日常消遣的目标，那便是他的花园。他从不亲自动手为花园做些什么;但他甚是以它为荣;如果你急欲向他家的幺女献殷勤，那一定要做到对花园中的每朵花和每株灌木都显得兴致盎然。……若是在夏日礼拜天去拜访他，约莫餐前一个小时，你会发现他坐在屋后草坪上的扶手椅中，头戴草帽，读着周日报。离他不远处，你很可能会注意到大大的铜网鸟笼内有一只漂亮的长尾小鹦鹉;年纪最长的两个女孩十之八九正在小道上漫步，左右有两三年轻先生相陪，为她们撑伞——当然是为遮阳——而年纪小点儿的孩子们与下等的小保姆在一起，百无聊赖地在荫凉下溜达。这些之外，他对自己花园的喜爱似乎更多源于占有的意识，而非真的欣赏。若他在工作日约你赴宴，他就是疲于上午的那堆工作了，还颇有些愠恼;但当桌布撤掉，他已啜饮三四杯钟爱的波尔图葡萄酒，他就会打发人将餐厅的落地窗（必然是正对花园的）打开，头顶搭一方丝质手帕，向后靠在扶手椅中，滔滔不绝地谈论起花园的美和打理它的开销。……

再看看另一种阶级属性明显不同的男人，他们的消遣是自己的花园。这个阶级的人住得离城区不远——比如汉普斯特德路、基尔伯恩路等，这些地方的房子小而齐整，有小条土地作后花园。他和妻子——和他自己一样，妻子也是干干净净的，有着结实的小身板——自20年前退休就住在此幢房中。他们如今没有子女，曾有过一个儿子，5岁左右夭折了。起居室布置得极精心，孩子的画像挂在壁炉台上方，他小时拉来拉去的小车也作为遗物被精心保存起来。除了打理花园，他只有另一种消遣：读报。他每天都把报纸从头至尾细读一遍，通常在吃早餐时把最有趣的消息读给妻子听。

好天，老先生几乎总在花园里;雨天，地太湿而出不去时，他会从窗户望着花园，一连看上几个钟头。他在花园里总有事做，挖啊、扫啊、砍啊、种啊，显然乐在其中。春天，播起种来没完没了，将一块块小木板插入土中，上面贴着标签，看上去像是怀念的悼词;傍晚，太阳落下，他仍不辍辛劳地到处拖动偌大的洒水壶，这般吃苦耐劳，让人觉着不可思议。……夏日的傍晚，当大大的洒水壶灌满又倒空大约14次后，这对老夫妻因跑来跑去已非常疲累，他们就会相偕坐在小小的凉亭里，很是怡然，享受日暮时分的平静与安谧，观看投射在花园的影子：影子渐渐变浓变暗，直至最艳丽的花儿也看不出原本的色泽。……这些是他们仅有的消遣，他们也无须更多。他们内心拥有可带来慰藉和满足的东西;各自担忧的不过是先于对方离开人世。

现在让我们转向另一部分伦敦人吧，这部分人的消遣与之前的相比可以想见反差极大——我们说的是礼拜天寻欢作乐的人;恳请读者设想自己正跟随我们置身某些著名的乡村“茶园”中。

这天下午天热得紧，时不时有新队伍加入聚会，人们看上去像刚刷过漆的桌子一样暖暖的，个个活力四射。这里沸反盈天！男人和女人——男孩和女孩——情侣和夫妻——怀抱的婴儿和小车里的孩童——烟斗和虾子——雪茄和滨螺——茶和烟叶。先生们，身着令人生畏的马甲，挂着钢质挂表链，三人一排到处溜达，一本正经的样子令人惊讶——女士们，手里攥着大大、长长的白手帕就像攥着小桌布，在草地上刻意互相追逐，平日从未这么嬉闹和有趣，指望引起前面提到的先生们的注意——未来的丈夫们则为心仪的对象点上几瓶姜汁啤酒，出手阔绰，不计较花销;心上人呷着啤酒吃下了超多“虾”和“螺”，既不把健康放在心上，也不管过后会不会舒服——男孩们，头戴恰好可以稳立头顶的绢丝大礼帽，抽着雪茄，尽量显得好像很爱雪茄——着粉衬衫、蓝马甲的先生们，偶尔用他们自己的手杖不是把自个儿就是把他人扰得心烦意乱。

这些人中有些人的盛装不免招笑，但他们都干干净净、开开心心，表现得和蔼友善。那两位身着时髦皮衣、看上去已是人母的女子亲密地聊着什么，每说四个词便称一次“女士”，其实她们大约一刻钟前还是陌生人……两位穿着蓝色外套和褐色长裤的男士四处走动，嘴里叼着烟斗，他们是那两位女子的丈夫。对面亭子里是芸芸访客中相当可爱的那类人。这些人里有父亲、母亲、老祖母，还有一对年轻男女和一个被亲切唤作“比尔伯伯”的人，显然此人是这群人中最风趣的。……

瞧瞧老祖母被比尔伯伯那“够四人饮的茶，管四十人饱的黄油面包”的绝妙玩笑逗得多么开怀;他又在侍者的硬领上贴了个纸“辫子”，更是引起一阵哄堂大笑。年轻人显然正在与比尔伯伯的侄女儿“交往”：伯伯的暗示——比如“吃饭可别忘了我，你知道的”“我会特别留意蛋糕，萨莉”“我要做你们第一个孩子的教父，我打赌准是个男孩”，等等——既捉弄了年轻的，又逗乐了老的。……

天色渐暗，人们开始四散。通向城里的田野上尽是这些人;……孩子们困乏得很……——妈妈们又开始想要是没出门该多好——情侣们比任何时候都多情缠绵，因为分别的时候到了——园子望着很是忧伤……——过去六个小时马不停蹄到处跑动的侍者们，点数杯盏和计算收益时，才感觉自己有些累了。

（译者单位：北京科技大学外国语学院）

1 = Almack’s Assembly Rooms 奥尔马克俱乐部（1765—1871），曾是伦敦有名的上流社会社交场，也是最早的不设性别限制的俱乐部之一。  2  fancy fair 义卖会。

3伦敦的劳埃德保险公司，前身为建于17世纪80年代的劳埃德咖啡馆，狄更斯写作此文时，该公司坐落于英格兰银行对面的皇家交易所内。  4 Hackney 哈克尼区，伦敦的老城区之一，现代伦敦的商业中心。Clapton 克莱普顿，隶属哈克尼区。 Stamford Hill 史丹福尔丘，隶属哈克尼区，以其建筑（尤其是17、18世纪的古建筑）闻名。  5 address 殷勤（尤用于求爱时），通常以复数形式出现。

6 cross 十分愤怒的。  7 into the bargain = also; as well 而且，也。  8倫敦著名的老牌富人区，虽位于郊区，却临近伦敦中心，此地自然风光美不胜收，豪宅林立，吸引了包括文人在内的各界社会名流，因此颇具人文气息。  9位于伦敦西北部，伦敦核心区之一。

10 chaise通常指轻便马拉车，但原文后又出现 hand-chaises 一词，由此推断，此处chaise义同pram，即指小推车。

11 wash ... down （with） 配着……喝（饮料）。

12 wager 打赌[旧时用法，较为正式]。

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