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【卫报】亲人已逝,如何保留关于他们的记忆

取经号JTW  · 公众号  ·  · 2017-12-25 20:44

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如果有人认为成年后体会不到变成孤儿的痛苦,那 他一 定是还没有经历过。


亲人已逝,如何保留关于他们的记忆

译者:李林治

校对:尹子梦

策划:朱雨晴&尹子梦


How we all become museums of our parents’ lives

我们如何成为父母人生的 物馆


本文选自 The Economist | 取经号原创翻译

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When Debbie Johnson’s parents died, going through their possessions brought back memories, but one mug had a special resonance

父母过世后,黛比·约翰逊看着他们的遗物,回忆涌上心头,其中的一个马克杯有着非同寻常的意义


Our homes, over all the years of cluttering and decluttering and inevitable recluttering, evolve into our own personal museums. Not the kind of museum that the Arts Council would fund, obviously: more the strange, ramshackle type you find in old seaside towns, dedicated to pencils or lawnmowers or the history of dentures.

凌乱 到整洁,然后不知不觉地再次变乱,多年以来,我们的家逐渐成为我们的私人博物馆。当然,这里指的不是得到艺术理事会拨款的那种,而更像是坐落在海边小镇,奇特又 破旧不堪的 那种,馆里专门收集铅笔、 割草机 ,或者不同年代的假牙。

clutter |ˈklʌtə(r)| v. fill or cover sth in an untidy way 胡乱地填满、塞满或覆盖住某事物


My own home, certainly, developed even more of a museum-like quality after the death of my parents. It was packed with bin bags full of precious family objets d’art: photos, pottery shire horses, Tupperware storage boxes, fleece blankets, handbags, 1980s headscarves, tattered copies of Mario Puzo’s collected works. Nothing to get excited about, but precious.

当然,在父母过世后,我的家变得更有博物馆的味道。家里摆满了用黑色塑料袋打包的各类珍贵的家庭艺术品:照片、 陶制 夏尔马、特百惠收纳盒、毛毯、小手提包、上世纪80年代的女士头巾、和 破旧的 马里奥·普佐全集副本。虽不是什么令人兴奋的东西,但都很珍贵。

pottery |ˈpɑ:təri| n. pots, dishes, etc. made with clay that is baked in an oven, especially when they are made by hand 陶器(尤指手工制的)

tattered |ˈtætərd| adj. old and torn; in bad condition 破烂的;破旧的;褴褛的;破裂的


The bags themselves, for a while, were at risk of becoming exhibits in their own right – because even opening them risked an aroma -induced meltdown : one whiff of my dad’s signature scent (a combination of Guinness and tobacco and, historically, turps, from his days as a painter and decorator) and I could be transported back to a different time – a time when I was a child, and he was a grownup, and someone else was expected to have the answers to life’s mysteries.

就连这些袋子都差点成为记忆博物馆的藏品,因为仅是打开袋子,我都有可能因袋中香气而使内心 溃不成军 :一闻到父亲的独特味道(健力士啤酒和烟草,以及他曾当油漆装潢工时沾染的油脂味混合在一起的味道),我的思绪就会飘回旧时光——那时我做我的小孩,父亲做他的大人,我以为解答人生奥秘是别人的事。

aroma |əˈroʊmə| n. distinctive smell; fragrance 芳香; 香气


One item in particular, though, had to be rooted out and saved. It was from my mum’s flat, and had always been treated with great reverence . Growing up as I did in Stoke-on-Trent, life and value was always marked in pieces of pottery.

但有一样东西很特别,必须拿出来好好保存。它是我从母亲的公寓拿来的,我一直十分 珍视 它。和我一样在斯托克长大的人爱用陶器记录生活和有价值的事。

reverence |ˈrevərəns| n. feeling of deep respect or veneration尊敬;崇敬


This one magical item is a mug: bone china , made by Hammersley to commemorate the moon landing on 20 July 1969, just months before I was born. My mum acquired it while she was pregnant with me, and it was always kept very safe.

这个神奇的东西是个 骨瓷 马克杯,它由哈姆斯雷制作,为纪念1969年7月20日人类登月,杯子做成的几个月后我就出生了。我母亲在怀孕时得到了它,之后一直小心地保存着。


For me, it signifies safety and love and questions. The first two are fairly obvious. The third, though – well, what questions could I have about a moon-landing mug? Well, for starters, I don’t know where she bought it. Or why she bought it.

对我来说,它代表着平安,爱意和疑问。前两者不言而喻。至于第三项,你可能会问,我对一个登月马克杯能有什么疑问呢?好吧,首先,我不知道她在哪买的;其次,我不知道她为什么买。


In July 1969, my mother was in a relationship with my father that I think could diplomatically be described as chaotic. They were one of those couples who just weren’t good for each other, which they realised eventually and went their separate ways. But back then, in the 60s, the moon landing took place against the backdrop of their own drama – a complex backstory of previous partners and much older children. At almost 41, my mother found herself pregnant by a man who wasn’t her husband, and starting over. They both had different versions of events, and as it is accurate to say they both liked a drink, I never really found out much.

1969年7月,我的父母陷入了一段在我看来“混乱”的关系当中。他们虽然在一起,但彼此并不适合对方,他们最终也意识到这一点并且分手了。60年代正值登月时期,他们的故事很复杂,那时他们各自有伴侣,也有比我大得多的孩子。但我的母亲在近41岁的时候发现自己怀孕了,而孩子的父亲不是她丈夫,然后一切发生了翻天覆地的变化。父母对很多事情都各有各的 说法 ,虽然我知道他们都喜欢喝酒,但对他们的过去却不曾真正深入了解。

version |ˈvɜ:rʒn| n. account of an event, etc from the point of view of one person (个人对一件事的)说法


While they were alive, there was always the possibility of discovering more. But after their deaths, I was left with more than a mug-full of questions – and no real place to turn. As they always say in crime dramas, witness statements can be unreliable – and everyone has a different version of the same events. I was raised as an only child, but both my parents had sons from previous relationships, all of whom were much older than me and had their own adult lives – mysterious creatures from another world.

他们还在世的时候,我有很多了解他们的机会。但当他们过世后,我心中的疑问多得快要溢出马克杯了,但我却再也无法得知真实的故事。就像犯罪片里经常提到的,证人的证词不可靠,而且每个人对于同一件事有不同的说法。我从小就是家里的独子,虽然我父母在之前的恋情中都有儿子,但他们都比我大,也都有自己的成年生活——在我看来,他们与我不在同一个世界。


Without siblings who had shared my upbringing, even at the age of 42, I felt the painful sting of becoming an orphan. Pathetic as it sounds, I was lost. I was besieged with half-remembered scenes, like a dream sequence in a movie, or a Hunter S Thompson drug montage: did my dad really pull out a rotten tooth by tying a string to a door and slamming it, or have I made that up? Did his friend really turn up one night with some “ back of a lorry ” lobster, which none of us knew how to eat? Did my mum actually chase my dad round the house and empty the chamber pot over his head?

我没有任何兄弟姐妹和我一起长大,即便我如今42岁,我仍旧能感受到变成孤儿的痛苦。虽然听起来很可怜,但我的确感到很迷茫。我常常模糊地记得一些场景,像是电影中的梦境片段,或是亨特·斯托克顿·汤普森的毒品蒙太奇:我父亲真的用一根线栓在门上,然后猛一关门,以此拔下一颗蛀牙吗,或者这只是我的幻想?他的朋友真的某天晚上带着 不知从哪弄来的 龙虾到我家来,而我们没人知道怎么吃吗?我母亲真的追着我父亲满屋子跑,然后把 尿壶 从他头上倒下去吗?

off the back of a lorry 来路不明


Actually, the answer to all of those questions is yes … but they are hazy, faint outlines of very vivid events. When you lose your parents, especially if you are an only child, life afterwards is full of these kinds of scenarios. “Could that really have happened how I remember it?” you ask yourself – because there is nobody else to ask.

实际上,这些问题的答案都是肯定的……虽然往事生动鲜活,但我记忆中的画面都很模糊。当你失去父母,尤其当你还是独生子女,往后的生活会充满这样的画面。“事情真的像我记忆中那样吗?”你问自己——因为除自己以外别无他人可以回答。


I never knew much about their earlier, happier days together. The past is a foreign country, and I don’t have the right passport. The loss of shared memories brings with it a sharp sense of loneliness, an attack on your identity. You have nobody to reminisce with, nobody to laugh with about the funny memories, or cry with about the sad ones – I feel as if part of my childhood died with my parents.

我不曾了解他们从前幸福的二人时光。他们的过去对我来说是异国他乡,而我没有去往那里的通行证。失去共同的记忆让你猛然感到孤独,让你对自己的存在产生怀疑。没人可以让你 追忆 ,也没人和你回忆过去,一起欢笑一起哭——我感觉仿佛我童年的一部分随着父母一同逝去了。

reminisce |ˌremɪˈnɪs| v. think or talk about past events and experiences, usu with enjoyment 缅怀过去或叙谈往事(通常为愉快地); 回忆; 话旧


There are certain times in our combined lives – homes we lived in, challenges we faced, problems we had – that only I can remember now. As children, parents are the curators of our lives – they recall what we were like as babies, when we took our first steps, that book we won at prize-giving . After their death, the roles are reversed: now I am the curator of their lives.







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