世紀文學經典:《百年孤獨》第19章Part3

Although she had not noticed it, the return of Amaranta ?rsula had brought on a radical change in Aureliano’s life. After the death of Jos?Arcadio he had become a regular customer at the wise Catalonian’s bookstore. Also, the freedom that he enjoyed then and the time at his disposal awoke in him a certain curiosity about the town, which he came to know without any surprise. He went through the dusty and solitary streets, examining with scientific interest the inside of houses in ruin, the metal screens on the windows broken by rust and the dying birds, and the inhabitants bowed down by memories. He tried to reconstruct in his imagination the annihilated splendor of the old banana-company town, whose dry swimming pool was filled to the brim with rotting men’s and women’s shoes, and in the houses of which, destroyed by rye grass, he found the skeleton of a German shepherd dog still tied to a ring by a steel chain and a telephone that was ringing, ringing, ringing until he picked it up and an anguished and distant woman spoke in English, and he said yes, that the strike was over, that three thousand dead people had been thrown into the sea, that the banana company had left, and that Macondo finally had peace after many years. Those wanderings led him to the prostrate red-light district, where in other times bundles of banknotes had been burned to liven up the revels, and which at that time was a maze of streets more afflicted and miserable than the others, with a few red lights still burning and with deserted dance halls adorned with the remnants of wreaths, where the pale, fat widows of no one, the French great-grandmothers and the Babylonian matriarchs, were still waiting beside their photographs. Aureliano could not find anyone who remembered his family, not even Colonel Aureliano Buendía, except for the oldest of the West Indian Negroes, an old man whose cottony hair gave him the look of a photographic negative and who was still singing the mournful sunset psalms in the door of his house. Aureliano would talk to him in the tortured Papiamento that he had learned in a few weeks and sometimes he would share his chicken-head soup, prepared by the great-granddaughter, with him. She was a large black woman with solid bones, the hips of a mare, teats like live melons, and a round and perfect head armored with a hard surface of wiry hair which looked like a medieval warrior’s mail headdress. Her name was Nigromanta. In those days Aureliano lived off the sale of silverware, candlesticks, and other bric-a-brac from the house. When he was penniless, which was most of the time, he got people in the back of the market to give him the chicken heads that they were going to throw away and he would take them to Nigromanta to make her soups, fortified with purslane and seasoned with mint. When the great-grandfather died Aureliano stopped going by the house, but he would run into Nigromanta under the dark almond trees on the square, using her wild-animal whistles to lure the few night owls. Many times he stayed with her, speaking in Papiamento about chicken-head soup and other dainties of misery, and he would have kept right on if she had not let him know that his presence frightened off customers. Although he sometimes felt the temptation and although Nigromanta herself might have seemed to him as the natural culmination of a shared nostalgia, he did not go to bed with her. So Aureliano was still a virgin when Amaranta ?rsula returned to Macondo and gave him a sisterly embrace that left him breathless. Every time he saw her, and worse yet when she showed him the latest dances, he felt the same spongy release in his bones that had disturbed his great-great-grandfather when Pilar Ternera made her pretexts about the cards in the granary. Trying to squelch the torment, he sank deeper into the parchments and eluded the innocent flattery of that aunt who was poisoning his nights with a flow of tribulation, but the more he avoided her the more the anxiety with which he waited for her stony laughter, her howls of a happy cat, and her songs of gratitude, agonizing in love at all hours and in the most unlikely parts of the house. One night thirty feet from his bed, on the silver workbench, the couple with unhinged bellies broke the bottles and ended up making love in a pool of muriatic acid. Aureliano not only could not sleep for a single second, but he spent the next day with a fever, sobbing with rage. The first night that he waited for Nigromanta to come to the shadows of the almond trees it seemed like an eternity, pricked as he was by the needles of uncertainty and clutching in his fist the peso and fifty cents that he had asked Amaranta ?rsula for, not so much because he needed it as to involve her, debase her, prostitute her in his adventure in some way. Nigromanta took him to her room, which was lighted with false candlesticks, to her folding cot with the bedding stained from bad loves, and to her body of a wild dog, hardened and without soul, which prepared itself to dismiss him as if he were a frightened child, and suddenly it found aman whose tremendous power demanded a movement of seismic readjustment from her insides.

阿瑪蘭塔·烏蘇娜的歸來給奧雷連諾·布恩蒂亞的生活帶來了根本的變化，而她本人卻沒有注意到這一點。霍。 阿卡蒂奧死後，奧雷連諾·布恩蒂亞在博學的加泰隆尼亞書商那裏成了一個常客。他那時喜歡自由自在，加上他有隨意支配的時間，暫時對小鎮產生了好奇心。他感到了這一點，也不覺得驚異。他走過滿地灰塵、寂寥冷落的街道，用刨根究底的興趣考察日漸破敗的房子內部，看到了窗上被鐵鏽和死鳥弄壞的鐵絲網以及被往事壓折了腰的居民。他試圖憑想象恢復這個市鎮和香蕉公司的輝煌時代。現在，鎮上乾涸了的游泳池讓男人和女人的爛鞋子填得滿滿的；在黑麥草毀壞了的房子裏面，他發現一頭德國牧羊犬的骸骨，上面仍然套着頸圈，頸圈上還聯着一段鐵鏈子；一架電話機還在叮鈴鈴地響個不停。他一拿起耳機，便聽到一個極爲痛苦的婦女在遙遠的地方用英語講話。他回答說戰爭已經結束了。三千名死難者已經拋進海里，香蕉公司已經離開，多年之後馬孔多終於享受到了和平。他在閒逛中不覺來到平坦的紅燈地區。從前那兒焚燒過成捆的鈔票，藉以增添宴會的光彩，當時的街道縱橫交錯，如同迷宮一般，比其他的街道更加不幸，那裏依然點着幾盞紅燈，凋零的花環裝飾着幾家冷落的舞廳；不知誰家的蒼白、肥胖的寡婦、法國老太婆和巴比倫女人，仍然守在她們的留聲機旁邊。奧雷連諾·布恩蒂亞找不到一個還記得他家的人，甚至記不得奧雷連諾上校了，只有那位年紀最老的西印度黑人——頭髮好象棉花捲、臉盤猶如照相底版的老人，仍然站在他的房門前唱着莊嚴的落日讚歌。奧雷連諾·布恩蒂亞用他幾個星期裏學會的結結巴巴的巴比亞曼託語同老人談話。老人請他喝他的曾孫女燒好的雞頭湯。他的曾孫女是一個黝黑的大塊頭女人，她有結實的骨架和母馬似的臀部；乳房好象長在藤上的甜瓜；鐵絲色的頭髮彷彿中世紀武士的頭盔，保護着沒有缺陷的、圓圓的頭顱。她的名字叫尼格羅曼塔。在那些日子裏，奧雷連諾，布恩蒂亞靠變賣銀器、燭臺和家裏的其他古董過活，他一文錢都沒有時（多數時候他都如此），就到市場上陰暗的地方去，求人家把打算丟棄的雞頭送給他，他拿了這些雞頭叫尼格羅曼塔煮湯，配上馬齒莧菜，加點薄荷調味。尼格羅曼塔的曾祖父死後，奧雷連諾·布恩蒂亞停止了走街串巷，但是他常常跑到尼格羅曼塔那裏去，在庭院中漆黑的杏樹下，把她模仿動物叫的口笛拿來，引誘幾隻夜貓子。他更多的時候是跟她呆在一起的，用巴比亞曼託語評論雞頭湯以及窮困中嚐到的其他可口的美味。要是她不告訴他，他的到來嚇跑了其他的主顧，他就一直呆着不走。儘管他有時也受到一些誘惑，但是在他看來，尼格羅曼塔本人也象他一樣患着思鄉病，因此他並沒有跟她一起睡覺。在阿瑪蘭塔。烏蘇娜回到馬孔多以後，並且象姐姐一般地擁抱他、使他喘不過氣來時，奧雷連諾·布恩蒂亞還是個童男子。每當他見到她，特別是她表演最新式的舞蹈時，他都有一種骨頭酥軟的感覺，如同當年皮拉·苔列娜藉口到庫房裏玩紙牌，也曾使他的高祖父神魂不定一樣。他埋頭在羊皮紙手稿中，想排遣苦惱，躲開姑娘天真爛漫的誘惑，因爲她給他帶來了一系列的痛苦，破壞了他夜間的寧靜。但是，他越是躲着她，就越是焦灼地期待着她，想聽到她冷漠的大笑聲，聽到她小貓撒歡似的嗥叫聲，聽到她的歌聲。而在這屋裏最不合適的地方，每時每刻她都在發泄情慾。一天夜裏，在隔壁離他的牀三十嘆的工作臺上，夫婦倆瘋狂地擁抱，結果打碎了一些瓶子，在鹽酸的水窪裏結束了一場好事。奧雷連諾·布恩蒂亞一夜沒有閤眼，第二天發了高燒，氣得直哭。晚上，他在杏樹的陰影下第一次等待尼格羅曼塔，只覺得時間過得實在太慢，他忐忑不安，如坐鍼氈，手裏攥着向阿瑪蘭塔·烏蘇娜要來的一比索和五十生丁。他要這錢是出於需要，想拿它作某種嘗試，以便使尼格羅曼塔就範，好侮辱她，糟蹋她。尼格羅曼塔把他帶到了自己屋裏。他們就這樣私通。奧雷連諾·布恩蒂亞整個上午都在辨認羊皮紙手稿，午睡時間就去臥室，尼格羅曼塔正在那兒等着他。