《美食祈禱和戀愛》Chapter 22 (44):禁慾

This much I do know—I'm exhausted by the cumulative consequences of a lifetime of hasty choices and chaotic passions. By the time I left for Italy, my body and my spirit were depleted. I felt like the soil on some desperate sharecropper's farm, sorely overworked and needing a fallow season. So that's why I've quit.

我只曉得——一生倉促的抉擇和混亂的激情所累積而成的後果，使我心力交瘁。在我前往意大利時，已是身心俱疲。我就像某個絕望的佃農所耕種的土壤，負擔過重，亟需休耕。這正是我放棄的原因。

Believe me, I am conscious of the irony of going to Italy in pursuit of pleasure during a period of self-imposed celibacy. But I do think abstinence is the right thing for me at the moment. I was especially sure of it the night I could hear my upstairs neighbor (a very pretty Italian girl with an amazing collection of high-heeled boots) having the longest, loudest, flesh smackingest, bed-thumpingest, back-breakingest session of lovemaking I'd ever heard, in the company of the latest lucky visitor to her apartment. This slam-dance went on for well over an hour, complete with hyperventilating sound effects and wild animal calls. I lay there only one floor below them, alone and tired in my bed, and all I could think was, That sounds like an awful lot of work . . .

相信我，我知道在自願獨身期間來意大利追求快樂，所蘊涵的諷刺意味。但我認爲禁慾是目前該做的事。那晚當我聽見我的樓上鄰居（一位很漂亮的意大利姑娘，收藏了一批令人吃驚的高跟靴），在她最近期的幸運訪客陪同下，經歷着我所聽過時間最長、聲音最大、最肉體撞擊、最牀搖鋪動、最粉身碎骨的做愛時刻。這場喧囂之舞的持續時間遠超過一個小時，伴隨着超通風聲效以及野獸的呼喊。我在他們底下僅一層樓，孤單、疲倦地躺在牀上，只能想着：聽起來真費勁……

Of course sometimes I really do become overcome with lust. I walk past an average of about a dozen Italian men a day whom I could easily imagine in my bed. Or in theirs. Or wherever. To my taste, the men in Rome are ridiculously, hurtfully, stupidly beautiful. More beautiful even than Roman women, to be honest. Italian men are beautiful in the same way as French women, which is to say—no detail spared in the quest for perfection. They're like show poodles. Sometimes they look so good I want to applaud. The men here, in their beauty, force me to call upon romance novel rhapsodies in order to describe them. They are "devilishly attractive," or "cruelly handsome," or "surprisingly muscular."

當然，有時我確實充滿慾望。我一天大約從平均一打能輕而易舉想象跟我上牀的意大利男人身邊走過。對我的口味而言，羅馬的男人美得可笑、有害、愚蠢。說實話，甚至比羅馬女人還美。羅馬男人的美就像法國女人的美，也就是說——鉅細靡遺地尋求完美。他們像參賽的貴賓犬。有時他們看起來完美得令我想鼓掌叫好。這裏的美男子迫使我不得不沿用浪漫小說的讚賞語詞來描述他們——他們“極端迷人“英俊得無情”，或“強壯得叫人訝異”。

However, if I may admit something not entirely flattering to myself, these Romans on the street aren't really giving me any second looks. Or even many first looks, for that matter. I found this kind of alarming at first. I'd been to Italy once before, back when I was nineteen, and what I remember is being constantly harassed by men on the street. And in the pizzerias. And at the movies. And in the Vatican. It was endless and awful. It used to be a real liability about traveling in Italy, something that could almost even spoil your appetite. Now, at the age of thirty-four, I am apparently invisible. Sure, sometimes a man will speak to me in a friendly way, "You look beautiful today, signorina," but it's not all that common and it never gets aggressive. And while it's certainly nice, of course, to not get pawed by a disgusting stranger on the bus, one does have one's feminine pride, and one must wonder, What has changed here? Is it me? Or is it them?

然而，容我承認對自己來說不怎麼愉快的事吧——街上這些羅馬人並未朝我多看一眼，甚至連第一眼也沒有。一開始我發現這有點令人擔憂。從前在我十九歲的時候，我來過意大利，記得被街上的男人不斷騷擾。在比薩店，在電影院，在梵蒂岡。無止無境，恐怖至極。從前在意大利旅行是一大負擔，幾乎能破壞你的食慾。如今，三十四歲的我顯然成了隱形人。當然，有時男人會態度友善地對我說：“你今天看起來很美，女士。”但這不常發生，而且從未超過分寸之外。不被公車上討厭的陌生人伸手亂摸儘管是件不錯的事，一個女人卻有她的自尊，不禁要猜想：到底是什麼改變了？是我嗎？還是他們？

So I ask around, and everybody agrees that, yes, there's been a true shift in Italy in the last ten to fifteen years. Maybe it's a victory of feminism, or an evolution of culture, or the inevitable modernizing effects of having joined the European Union. Or maybe it's just simple embarrassment on the part of young men about the infamous lewdness of their fathers and grandfathers. Whatever the cause, though, it seems that Italy has decided as a society that this sort of stalking, pestering behavior toward women is no longer acceptable. Not even my lovely young friend Sofie gets harassed on the streets, and those milkmaid-looking Swedish girls used to really get the worst of it.

於是我到處問人，每個人都同意，是的，意大利在過去十到十五年間的確發生了變化。或許是女性主義的勝利，或許是文化的進化，或許是加入歐盟而導致無可避免的現代化結果。或許是隻是年輕男人在這方面對父親和祖父們惡名昭彰的猥褻之舉感到困窘。無論原因爲何，意大利整個社會似乎一致決定，這種跟蹤、騷擾婦女的行爲，不再能讓人接受。甚至我漂亮的年輕朋友蘇菲，也沒在街頭碰上這種事，可是從前這些白白淨淨的瑞典女孩總是被騷擾得很嚴重。

In conclusion—it seems Italian men have earned themselves the Most Improved Award.

總而言之——意大利男人似乎已爲自己贏得“最佳進步獎”。

Which is a relief, because for a while there I was afraid it was me. I mean, I was afraid maybe I wasn't getting any attention because I was no longer nineteen years old and pretty. I was afraid that maybe my friend Scott was correct last summer when he said, "Ah, don't worry, Liz—those Italian guys won't bother you anymore. It ain't like France, where they dig the old babes."
Eat, Pray, Love

這叫人鬆一口氣，因爲有一陣子我擔心是“我自己”的緣故。我是說，我擔心之所以不被人注意，是因爲我不再是十九歲的美少女。我擔心或許我的朋友史考特去年夏天說得對：“啊，甭擔心，小莉——那些意大利男人不會再騷擾你。這跟法國不同，法國人專找徐娘。”