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《流动的盛宴》Epubooks电子书分享每天一本epub电子书

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海明威

8.7(473人评价)

 

推荐语(行行):

 

海明威的这本《流动的盛宴》记录的是20几岁,在巴黎的海明威。

 

书中有句最经典的一句话:假如你有幸年轻时在巴黎生活过,那么你此后一生中不论去到哪里,她都与你同在,因为巴黎是一席流动的盛宴。

 

海明威在写这本书的时候,盛宴已经消失了,记忆中的那段历史也模糊了,但也无法忘记那段青春岁月。

 

巴黎是一座非常古老的城市,而我们却很年轻,这里什么都不简单,甚至贫穷、意外所得的钱财、月光、是与非以及那在月光下睡在你身边的人的呼吸,都不简单。

 

这本书,已经和巴黎融为一体了。

 

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内容简介:

Then there was the bad weather. It would come in one day when the fall was over. We would have to shut the windows in the night against the rain and the cold wind would strip the leaves from the trees in the Place Contrescarpe1. The leaves lay sodden in the rain and wind drove the rain against the big green autobus at the terminal and the Café des Amateurs was crowded and the windows misted over from the heat and the smoke inside. It was a sad, evilly run café where the drunkards of the quarter crowded together and I kept away from it because of the smell of dirty bodies and the sour smell of drunkenness. The men and women who frequented the Amateurs stayed drunk all of the time, or all of the time they could afford it, mostly on wine which they bought by the half-liter or liter. Many strangely named apéritifs were advertised, but few people could afford them except as a foundation to build their wine drunks on. The women drunkards were called poivrottes which meant female rummies.

那会儿天气很糟。秋天一结束,这种天气在一天内就开始了。为了防雨,夜里我们只能关上窗户。寒风吹落了护墙广场上的树叶,落叶浸在雨中,风吹着雨,雨点打在终点站绿色的大公共汽车上。艾美特咖啡馆挤满了人,屋里的热气和烟雾模糊了窗户。这家令人伤心、经营不善的咖啡馆是这个区酒鬼聚集的地方。我不去那儿,因为那些人肮脏的身体恶臭难闻,醉酒后还发出一股酸味。经常出入艾美特的男男女女总是醉醺醺的,或者说他们总是有钱买醉,大多情况下他们喝的是葡萄酒,一买就是半升或一升。到处可见名字怪异的开胃酒在做广告,但很少人能买得起,除非他们要以此垫底,然后喝葡萄酒喝个大醉。人们把醉酒的女人叫做poivrottes,就是女酒鬼的意思。

The Café des Amateurs was the cesspool of the rue Mouffetard, that wonderful narrow crowded market street which led into the Place Contrescarpe. The squat toilets of the old apartment houses, one by the side of the stairs on each floor with the two cleated cement shoe-shaped elevations on each side of the aperture so a locataire would not slip, emptied into cesspools which were emptied by pumping into horse-drawn tank wagons at night. In the summer time, with all windows open, we would hear the pumping and the odor was very strong. The tank wagons were painted brown and saffron color and in the moonlight when they worked the rue Cardinal Lemoine their wheeled, horse-drawn cylinder looked like Braque2 paintings. No one emptied the Café des Amateurs though, and its yellowed poster stating the terms and penalties of the law against public drunkenness was as flyblown and disregarded as its clients were constant and ill-smelling.

艾美特咖啡馆就是慕夫塔大街的污水坑,这条大街是通向护墙广场的一条出奇狭窄而拥挤的闹市街。那些古旧公寓每层楼梯旁都有一个蹲式厕所,蹲坑两边各有一个加固的鞋形水泥踩脚台,以防房客摔倒。这些蹲厕中的粪便会排入污水池中,夜里污水池会由马拉式粪罐车抽空。夏天,因为窗户开着,我们能听见粪罐车抽粪的声音,闻到阵阵恶臭。粪罐车漆成褐色和藏红色。在月色中,当这些粪罐车在勒穆瓦纳主教街工作的时候,装在轮子上的马拉圆筒粪罐看上去就像布拉克的油画。然而却没人为艾美特咖啡馆排污。咖啡馆里发黄的公告上写着禁止公众酗酒的法律条款与处罚条例,上面蝇屎斑斑,污秽不堪,但无人理会,就像咖啡馆的客人一样,一成不变,而且一身臭气。

All of the sadness of the city came suddenly with the first cold rains of winter, and there were no more tops to the high white houses as you walked but only the wet blackness of the street and the closed door of the small shops, the herb sellers, the stationary and the newspaper shops, the midwife—second class—and the hotel where Verlaine3 had died where I had a room on the top floor where I worked.

这座城市的所有悲伤随着冬季的头几场冷雨骤然而至。散步时,再也看不见高高的白色房子的房顶,只看见湿漉漉的漆黑街道、关了门的小商铺、卖草药的小贩、文具店和报刊亭、助产士——二流的——还有一家旅馆,魏尔兰就是在那儿去世的,我也曾在旅馆顶层的一间房间里工作过。

It was either six or eight flights up to the top floor and it was very cold and I knew how much it would cost for a bundle of small twigs, three wire-wrapped packets of short, half-pencil length pieces of split pine to catch fire from the twigs, and then the bundle of half-dried lengths of hard wood that I must buy to make a fire that would warm the room. So I went to the far side of the street to look up at the roof in the rain and see if any chimneys were going, and how the smoke blew. There was no smoke and I thought about how the chimney would be cold and might not draw and of the room possibly filling with smoke, and the fuel wasted, and the money gone with it, and I walked on in the rain. I walked down past the Lycée Henri Quatre and the ancient church of St. Etienne-du-Mont to the windswept Place du Panthéon and cut in for shelter to the right and finally came out on the lee side of the Boulevard St. Michel and worked on down it past the Cluny and the Boulevard St. Germain until I came to a good café that I knew on the Place St. Michel.

到顶层要走六段或八段楼梯。屋里非常冷,我知道要生火让房间暖和需要买的东西得花多少钱:一捆小树枝,三小捆金属丝包捆好的半支铅笔那么短短一截长、用来从小树枝上取火的松木劈柴,还有一捆半干的硬木。所以我到街的远侧,仰望雨中的屋顶,看看是否有冒烟的烟囱,烟是如何升起的。没有烟。我想着烟囱为什么会变冷且无法通风,想着房间里可能烟雾弥漫,浪费了柴火,白白烧了那些钱。想着这些,我继续在雨中漫步。我经过了亨利四世中学、古老的圣埃德尼杜蒙教堂和寒风凛凛的先贤祠,从右边进去避避风雨,最后从圣米歇尔大街背风的一头出来,顺着街继续往前走,经过克鲁尼教堂和圣谢荷曼大街,一直走到圣米歇尔广场上我知道的一家不错的咖啡馆。

It was a pleasant café, warm and clean and friendly, and I hung up my old waterproof on the coat rack to dry and put my worn and weathered felt hat on the rack above the bench and ordered a café au lait. The waiter brought it and I took out a notebook from the pocket of the coat and a pencil and started to write. I was writing about up in Michigan and since it was a wild, cold, blowing day it was that sort of day in the story. I had already seen the end of fall come through boyhood, youth and young manhood, and in one place you could write about it better than in another. That was called transplanting yourself, I thought and it could be as necessary with people as with other sorts of growing things. But in the story the boys were drinking and this made me thirsty and I ordered a rum St. James. This tasted wonderful on the cold day and I kept on writing, feeling very well and feeling the good Martinique4 rum warm me all through my body and my spirit.

这是一家舒适的咖啡馆,暖和、干净、亲切。我把那身旧雨衣挂在衣帽架上晾干,把我那磨损破旧的毡帽挂在长条凳上的架子上,要了一杯牛奶咖啡。侍者端来咖啡,我从外套口袋里拿出笔记本和铅笔,开始写作。故事里我描述的是发生在密歇根北部的事。因为当天刮着风,天气寒冷,故事里也是这样的天气。不管是孩童时代、少年时代还是青年时代,我都经历过这种暮秋的日子,而故事在一个地方可能比在另一个地方写得更好。我想这就是所谓的自我移植,这对人来说也许和对其他成长变化的东西一样都是必要的。不过,故事中,男孩们正喝着酒,这让我也感到口渴,于是叫了杯圣詹姆斯朗姆酒。这样一杯酒在大冷天里喝起来感觉棒极了。我继续写故事,感觉很好。品尝上好的马提尼克朗姆酒让我全身都暖和起来,也振奋了我的精神

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