名著阅读

124 WAS SPITEFUL. Full of a baby's venom. The women in the house knew it and so did thechildren. For years each put up with the spite in his own way, but by 1873 Sethe and her daughterDenver were its only victims. The grandmother, Baby Suggs, was dead, and the sons, Howard andBuglar, had run away by the time they were thirteen years old — as soon as merely looking in amirror shattered it (that was the signal for Buglar); as soon as two tiny hand prints appeared in thecake (that was it for Howard). Neither boy waited to see more; another kettleful of chickpeassmoking in a heap on the floor; soda crackers crumbled and strewn in a line next to the door sill.
Nor did they wait for one of the relief periods: the weeks, months even, when nothing was disturbed. No. Each one fled at once — the moment the house committed what was for him theone insult not to be borne or witnessed a second time. Within two months, in the dead of winter,leaving their grandmother, Baby Suggs; Sethe, their mother; and their little sister, Denver, all bythemselves in the gray and white house on Bluestone Road. It didn't have a number then, becauseCincinnati didn't stretch that far. In fact, Ohio had been calling itself a state only seventy yearswhen first one brother and then the next stuffed quilt packing into his hat, snatched up his shoes,and crept away from the lively spite the house felt for them.
Baby Suggs didn't even raise her head. From her sickbed she heard them go but that wasn't thereason she lay still. It was a wonder to her that her grandsons had taken so long to realize thatevery house wasn't like the one on Bluestone Road. Suspended between the nastiness of life andthe meanness of the dead, she couldn't get interested in leaving life or living it, let alone the frightof two creeping-off boys. Her past had been like her present — intolerable — and since she knewdeath was anything but forgetfulness, she used the little energy left her for pondering color.
"Bring a little lavender in, if you got any. Pink, if you don't."And Sethe would oblige her with anything from fabric to her own tongue. Winter in Ohio wasespecially rough if you had an appetite for color. Sky provided the only drama, and counting on aCincinnati horizon for life's principal joy was reckless indeed. So Sethe and the girl Denver didwhat they could, and what the house permitted, for her. Together they waged a perfunctory battleagainst the outrageous behavior of that place; against turned-over slop jars, smacks on the behind,and gusts of sour air. For they understood the source of the outrage as well as they knew the sourceof light.
Baby Suggs died shortly after the brothers left, with no interest whatsoever in their leave-taking orhers, and right afterward Sethe and Denver decided to end the persecution by calling forth theghost that tried them so. Perhaps a conversation, they thought, an exchange of views or somethingwould help. So they held hands and said, "Come on. Come on. You may as well just come on."The sideboard took a step forward but nothing else did.
"Grandma Baby must be stopping it," said Denver. She was ten and still mad at Baby Suggs fordying.
Sethe opened her eyes. "I doubt that," she said.
124号恶意充斥。充斥着一个婴儿的怨毒。房子里的女人们清楚，孩子们也清楚。多年以来，每个人都以各自的方式忍受着这恶意，可是到了1873年，塞丝和女儿丹芙成了它仅存的受害者。祖母贝比·萨格斯已经去世，两个儿子，霍华德和巴格勒，在他们十三岁那年离家出走了———当时，镜子一照就碎（那是让巴格勒逃跑的信号）；蛋糕上出现了两个小手印（这个则马上把霍华德逼出了家门）。两个男孩谁也没有等着往下看：又有一锅鹰嘴豆堆在地板上冒着热气；苏打饼干被捻成碎末，沿门槛撒成一道线。

他们也没有再等一个间歇期，几个星期、甚至几个月的风平浪静。没有。他们当即逃之夭夭———就在这座凶宅向他们分别施以不能再次忍受和目睹的侮辱的时刻。在两个月之内，在残冬，相继离开他们的祖母贝比·萨格斯，母亲塞丝，还有小妹妹丹芙，把她们留在蓝石路上这所灰白两色的房子里。当时它还没有门牌号，因为辛辛那提还没扩展到那儿呢。事实上，当兄弟俩一个接一个地把被子里的棉絮塞进帽子、抓起鞋子，偷偷逃离这所房子用来试探他们的活生生的恶意时，俄亥俄独立成州也不过七十年光景。
贝比·萨格斯连头都没抬。她是在病榻上听见他们离去的，但这并非她躺着一动不动的缘故。对她来说，孙子们花了这么长时间才认识到蓝石路上这所房子的与众不同，倒真是不可思议。悬在生活的龌龊与死者的刻毒之间，她对生或死都提不起兴致，更不用说两个出逃的孩子的恐惧心理了。她的过去跟她的现在一样———难以忍受。既然她认识到死亡偏偏不是遗忘，她便用残余的一点精力来玩味色彩。
“给我来点儿淡紫，要是你有的话。要是没有，就粉红吧。”塞丝就用一切来满足她，从布料到自己的舌头。如果你对色彩有所奢望，那么俄亥俄的冬天就尤其不堪忍受。只有天空有戏可唱，要把辛辛那提的地平线算作生活的主要乐趣，那简直是乱弹琴。于是，塞丝和女儿丹芙为她做了她们力所能及，而且为房子所允许的一切。她们一起针对那里的暴行进行了一场敷衍塞责的斗争；同倒扣的泔水桶、屁股上挨的巴掌，以及阵阵的酸气作斗争。因为她们就像知道光的来源一样明晓这些暴行的来源。
兄弟俩出走不久，贝比·萨格斯就去世了，无论对他们的还是她自己的离去都兴味索然。随即，塞丝和丹芙决定召唤那个百般折磨她们的鬼魂，以结束这场迫害。也许来一次对话、交换一下看法什么的会管用，她们想。于是她们手拉着手，说道：“来吧。来吧。你干脆出来吧。”碗柜向前进了一步，可是别的东西都没动。
“肯定是贝比奶奶在拦它。”丹芙说。她十岁了，仍然在为贝比·萨格斯的去世而生她的气。
塞丝睁开眼睛。“我不信。”她说。
背景阅读

本书简介：
“你的爱太浓了！”——一个不可能重复的故事！！！
女黑奴塞丝怀着身孕只身从肯塔基的奴隶庄园逃到俄亥俄，奴隶主循踪追至；为了使儿女不再重复自己做奴隶的悲惨命运，她毅然杀死了自己刚刚会爬的幼女宠儿……十八年后宠儿还魂重返人间，和塞丝、塞丝的女儿丹芙以及塞丝的情人保罗•D生活在同一幢房子里。她不但加倍地向母亲索取着爱，甚至纠缠和引诱保罗•D，不择手段地扰乱和摧毁母亲刚刚回暖的生活……全书充满苦涩的诗意和紧张的悬念。
作者简介：

托妮·莫里森，美国当代最重要的女作家之一。1931年生于美国俄亥俄州，曾担任兰登书屋编辑、资深编辑，1989年起任普林斯顿大学教授。主要代表作有《最蓝的眼睛》、《秀拉》、《所罗门之歌》、《宠儿》、《爵士乐》、《天堂》等，曾获美国普利策小说奖、美国图书评论协会奖等多项大奖。1993年获诺贝尔文学奖，是历史上得此殊荣的唯一黑人女作家。
《宠儿》是托妮·莫里森最震撼人心、最成熟的代表作，现已经成为当代文学史上不朽的经典，也是美国文学史上最畅销的作品之一。小说完成于1987年，1988年即获得美国普利策小说奖。2006年《纽约时报》召集125位知名作家、评论家、编辑及文坛泰斗等选出自己心目中“25年来最佳美国小说”，《宠儿》得票最高，名列第一。