《美食祈禱和戀愛》Chapter 25 (50):走進奧古斯都廟

Augustus's mausoleum fell to ruins and thieves during the Dark Ages. Somebody stole the emperor's ashes—no telling who. By the twelfth century, though, the monument had been renovated into a fortress for the powerful Colonna family, to protect them from assaults by various warring princes. Then the Augusteum was transformed somehow into a vineyard, then a Renaissance garden, then a bullring (we're in the eighteenth century now), then a fireworks depository, then a concert hall. In the 1930s, Mussolini seized the property and restored it down to its classical foundations, so that it could someday be the final resting place for his remains. (Again, it must have been impossible back then to imagine that Rome could ever be anything but a Mussolini-worshipping empire.) Of course, Mussolini's fascist dream did not last, nor did he get the imperial burial he'd anticipated.

奧古斯都的陵墓在黑暗時代慘遭毀壞盜竊。有人偷走皇帝的骨灰——盜者何人，並未可知。12世紀時，這座遺蹟經過翻修，成爲科洛納（Colonna）望族的堡壘，抵禦各交戰諸侯的襲擊。而後奧古斯都廟不知何故，變成了葡萄園，接着成爲文藝復興庭園，接着是鬥牛場（此時是19世紀），而後成了煙火倉庫，之後是演奏廳。20世紀30年代被墨索里尼佔爲己有，將之整個連同古代地基都修復起來，以便成爲他的最後安息地（當時肯定同樣難以想象，羅馬除了崇拜墨索里尼的帝國之外會有其他面目。）當然，墨索里尼的法西斯美夢未能持久，也未能得到他期待的帝王安葬規模。

Today the Augusteum is one of the quietest and loneliest places in Rome, buried deep in the ground. The city has grown up around it over the centuries. (One inch a year is the general rule of thumb for the accumulation of time's debris.) Traffic above the monument spins in a hectic circle, and nobody ever goes down there—from what I can tell—except to use the place as a public bathroom. But the building still exists, holding its Roman ground with dignity, waiting for its next incarnation.

今日的奧古斯都廟是羅馬最寂靜的地方之一， 深埋在土中。數世紀以來，羅馬城在它周圍成長。（時間瓦礫的累積，大致一年三釐米。）遺蹟上方車水馬龍，不見任何人走下來——就我所見——除了作爲公共廁所之用。但建築物依然存在，堅守其羅馬的立場，等候下一個輪迴。

I find the endurance of the Augusteum so reassuring, that this structure has had such an erratic career, yet always adjusted to the particular wildness of the times. To me, the Augusteum is like a person who's led a totally crazy life—who maybe started out as a housewife, then unexpectedly became a widow, then took up fan-dancing to make money, ended up somehow as the first female dentist in outer space, and then tried her hand at national politics—yet who has managed to hold an intact sense of herself throughout every upheaval.

奧古斯都廟的耐力與任性使我覺得安心，此建築一生多舛，卻始終適應着時代的狂風暴雨。對我而言，奧古斯都廟好比一個畢生生活動盪的人——或許一開始是家庭主婦，而後意外成了寡婦，而後靠跳扇子舞賺錢謀生，最後不知怎麼當上外太空第一位女牙醫，最後嘗試涉足國內政治——然而卻能 在經歷每次的變動後毫髮無傷。

I look at the Augusteum, and I think that perhaps my life has not actually been so chaotic, after all. It is merely this world that is chaotic, bringing changes to us all that nobody could have anticipated. The Augusteum warns me not to get attached to any obsolete ideas about who I am, what I represent, whom I belong to, or what function I may once have intended to serve. Yesterday I might have been a glorious monument to somebody, true enough—but tomorrow I could be a fireworks depository. Even in the Eternal City, says the silent Augusteum, one must always be prepared for riotous and endless waves of , Pray, Love

我看着奧古斯都廟，我想，或許我的生活畢竟不是真的那麼混亂不堪。混亂的是這個世界，給我們帶來無人能夠預期的變化。奧古斯都廟告誡我， 切勿死守我是什麼人、我代表什麼、我屬於誰，或我曾想讓自己有什麼表現的固執想法。昨天我對某人來說或許是壯麗的古蹟，這也是真的——但明天我可能成爲煙火倉庫。即使在這座“永恆之城”中，沉默的奧古斯都廟告訴我，一個人始終必須爲動盪騷亂的變化作好準備。