世紀文學經典:《百年孤獨》第14章Part2

It might have been aid that peace and happiness reigned for a long time in the tired mansion of the Buendías if it had not been for the sudden death of Amaranta, which caused a new uproar. It was an unexpected event. Although she was old and isolated from everyone, she still looked firm and upright and with the health of a rock that she had always had. No one knew her thoughts since the afternoon on which she had given Colonel Geri-neldo Márquez his final rejection and shut herself up to weep. She was not seen to cry during the ascension to heaven of Remedios the Beauty or over the extermination of the Aureli-anos or the death of Colonel Aureli-ano Buendía, who was the person she loved most in this world, although she showed it only when they found his body under the chestnut tree. She helped pick up the body. She dressed him in his soldier's uniform, shaved him, combed his hair, and waxed his mustache better than he had ever done in his days of glory. No one thought that there was any love in that act because they were accustomed to the familiarity of Amaranta with the rites of death. Fernanda was scandalized that she did not understand the relationship of Catholicism with life but only its relationship with death, as if it were not a religion but a compendium of funeral conventions. Amaranta was too wrapped up in the eggplant patch of her memories to understand those subtle apologetics. She had reached old age with all of her nostalgias intact. When she listened to the waltzes of Pietro Crespi she felt the same desire to weep that she had had in adolescence, as if time and harsh lessons had meant nothing. The rolls of music that she herself had thrown into the trash with the pretext that they had rotted from dampness kept spinning and playing in her memory. She had tried to sink them into the swampy passion that she allowed herself with her nephew Aureli-ano José and she tried to take refuge in the calm and virile protection of Colonel Geri-neldo Márquez, but she had not been able to overcome them, not even with the most desperate act of her old age when she would bathe the small José Arcadio three years before he was sent to the seminary and caress him not as a grandmother would have done with a grandchild, but as a woman would have done with a man, as it was said that the French matrons did and as she had wanted to do with Pietro Crespi at the age of twelve, fourteen, when she saw him in his dancing tights and with the magic wand with which he kept time to the metronome. At times It pained her to have let that outpouring of misery follow its course, and at times it made her so angry that she would prick her fingers with the needles, but what pained her most and enraged her most and made her most bitter was the fragrant and wormy guava grove of love that was dragging her toward death. Just as Colonel Aureli-ano Buendía thought about his war, unable to avoid it, so Amaranta thought about Rebeca. But while her brother had managed to sterilize his memories, she had only managed to make hers more scalding. The only thing that she asked of God for many years was that he would not visit on her the punishment of dying before Rebeca. Every time she passed by her house and noted the progress of destruction she took comfort in the idea that God was listening to her. One afternoon, when she was sewing on the porch, she was assailed by the certainty that she would be sitting in that place, in the same position, and under the same light when they brought her the news of Rebeca's death. She sat down to wait for it, as one waits for a letter, and the fact was that at one time she would pull off buttons to sew them on again so that inactivity would not make the wait longer and more anxious. No one in the house realized that at that time Amaranta was sewing a fine shroud for Rebeca. Later on, when Aureli-ano Triste told how he had seen her changed into an apparition with leathery skin and a few golden threads on her skull, Amaranta was not surprised because the specter described was exactly what she had been imagining for some time. She had decided to restore Rebeca's corpse, to disguise with paraffin the damage to her face and make a wig for her from the hair of the saints. She would manufacture a beautiful corpse, with the linen shroud and a plush--lined coffin with purple trim. and she would put it at the disposition of the worms with splendid funeral ceremonies. She work.d out the plan with such hatred that it made her tremble to think about the scheme, which she would have carried out in exactly the same way if it had been done out of love, but she would not allow herself to become upset by the confusion and went on perfecting the details so minutely that she came to be more than a specialist and was a virtuoso in the rites of death. The only thing that she did not keep In mind in her fearsome plan was that in spite of her pleas to God she might die before Rebeca. That was, in fact, what happened. At the final moment, however, Amaran-ta did not feel frustrated, but on the contrary, free of all bitterness because death had awarded her the privi-lege of announcing itself several years ahead of time. She saw it on one burning afternoon sewing with her on the porch a short time after Meme had left for school. She saw it because it was a woman dressed in blue with long hair, with a sort of antiquated look, and with a certain resemblance to Pilar Ternera during the time when she had helped with the chores in the kitchen. Fernanda was present several times and did not see her, in spite of the fact that she was so real, so human, and on one occasion asked of Amaranta the favor of thread-ing a needle. Death did not tell her when she was going to die or whether her hour was assigned before that of Rebeca, but ordered her to begin sewing her own shroud on the next sixth of April. She was authorized to make it as complicated and as fine as she wanted, but just as honestly executed as Rebeca's, and she was told that she would die without pain, fear, or bitterness at dusk on the day that she finished it. Trying to waste the most time possible, Amaranta ordered some rough flax and spun the thread herself. She did it so carefully that the work alone took four years. Then she started the sewing. As she got closer to the unavoidable end she began to understand that only a miracle would allow her to prolong the work past Rebeca's death, but the very concentration gave her the calmness that she needed to accept the idea of frustration. It was then that she understood the vicious circle of Colonel Aureli-ano Buendía's little gold fishes. The world was reduced to the surface of her skin and her inner self was safe from all bitterness. It pained her not to have had that revelation many years before when it had still been possible to purify memories and reconstruct the universe under a new light and evoke without trembling Pietro Crespi's smell of lavender at dusk and rescue Rebeca from her slough of misery, not out of hatred or out of love but because of the measureless understanding of solitude. The hatred that she noticed one night in Memes words did not upset her because it was directed at her, but she felt the repetition of another adolescence that seemed as clean as hers must have seemed and that, however, was already tainted with rancor. But by then her acceptance of her fate was so deep that she was not even upset by the certainty that all possibilities of rectification were closed to her. Her only objective was to finish the shroud. Instead of slowing it down with useless detail as she had done in the beginning, she speeded up the work. One week before she calculated that she would take the last stitch on the night of February 4, and without revealing the motives, she suggested to Meme that she move up a clavichord concert that she had arranged for the day after, but the girl paid no attention to her. Amaranta then looked for a way to delay for forty-eight hours, and she even thought that death was giving her her way because on the night of February fourth a storm caused a breakdown at the power plant. But on the following day, at eight in the morning, she took the last stitch in the most beautiful piece of work that any woman had ever finished, and she announced without the least bit of dramatics that she was going to die at dusk. She not only told the family but the whole town, because Amaranta had conceived of the idea that she could make up for a life of meanness with one last favor to the world, and she thought that no one was in a better position to take letters to the dead.
The news that Amaranta Buendía was sailing at dusk carrying the mail of death spread throughout Macon-do before noon, and at three in the afternoon there was a whole carton full of letters in the parlor. Those who did not want to write gave Amaranta verbal messages, which she wrote down in a notebook with the name and date of death of the recipient. "Don't worry," she told the senders. "The first thing I'll do when I get there is to ask for him and give him your message." It was farcical. Amaranta did not show any upset or the slightest sign of grief, and she even looked a bit rejuvenated by a duty accomplished. She was as straight and as thin as ever. If it had not been for her hardened cheekbones and a few missing teeth, she would have looked much younger than she really was. She herself arranged for them to put the letters in a box sealed with pitch and told them to place it in her grave in a way best to protect it from the dampness. In the morning she had a carpenter called who took her measurements for the coffin as she stood in the parlor, as if it were for a new dress. She showed such vigor in her last hours that Fernanda thought she was making fun of everyone. úrsula, with the experience that Buendías died without any illness, did not doubt at all that Amaranta had received an omen of death, but in any case she was tormented by the fear that with the business of the letters and the anxiety of the senders for them to arrive quickly they would bury her alive in their confusion. So she set about clearing out the house, arguing with the intruders as she shouted at them, and by four in the afternoon she was successful. At that time Amaranta had finished dividing her things among the poor and had left on the severe coffin of unfinished boards only the change of clothing and the simple cloth slippers that she would wear in death. She did not neglect that precaution because she remembered that when Colonel Aureli-ano Buendía died they had to buy a pair of new shoes for him because all he had left were the bedroom slippers that he wore in the workshop. A little before five Aureli-ano Segun-do came to fetch Meme for the concert and was surprised that the house was prepared for the funeral. if anyone seemed alive at the moment it was the serene Amaranta, who had even had enough time to cut her corns. Aureli-ano Segun-do and Meme took leave of her with mocking farewells and promised her that on the following Saturday they would have a big resurrection party. Drawn by the public talk that Amaranta Buendía was receiving letters for the dead, Father Antonio Isabel arrived at five o'clock for the last rites and he had to wait for more than fifteen minutes for the recipient to come out of her bath. When he saw her appear in a madapollam nightshirt and with her hair loose over her shoulders, the decrepit parish priest thought that it was a trick and sent the altar boy away. He thought however, that he would take advantage of the occasion to have Amaranta confess after twenty years of reticence. Amaranta answered simply that she did not need spiritual help of any kind because her conscience was clean. Fernanda was scandalized. Without caring that people could hear her she asked herself aloud what horrible sin Amaranta had committed to make her prefer an impious death to the shame of confession. Thereupon Amaranta lay down and made úrsula give public testimony as to her virginity.
"Let no one have any illusions," she shouted so that Fernanda would hear her. "Amaranta Buendía is leaving this world just as she came into it.

已經可以說，在飽經滄桑的布恩蒂亞家中，長時間是一片和平安樂的氣氛，然而阿瑪蘭塔的碎然死亡引起了新的混亂。這是一件沒有料到的事情。阿瑪蘭塔已經老了，孤身獨處，但還顯得結實、筆挺，象以往那樣特別健康。自從那一天她最終拒絕了格林列爾多。 馬克斯上校的求婚，她就呆在房間裏痛哭，惟也不知道她想些什麼。當她走出臥室的時候，她的淚水已經永遠於了。俏姑娘雷麥黛絲昇天之後，十六個奧雷連諾慘遭殺害之後，奧雷連諾上校去世之後，她都沒有哭過；這個上校是她在世上最喜愛的人，儘管大家在慄樹下面發現他的屍體時，她才表露了對他的愛。她幫着從地上擡起他的屍體。她給他穿上軍服，梳理頭髮，修飾面容，把他的胡了捻卷得比他自己在榮耀時捻卷得還好。誰也不覺得她的行動中有什麼愛，因爲大家一貫認爲她熟悉喪葬禮儀。菲蘭達生氣地說，阿瑪蘭塔不明白天主教和生的關係，只看見它和死的關係，彷彿天主教不是宗教，而是一整套喪葬禮儀。可是阿瑪蘭塔沉湎在往事的回憶裏，沒有聽到菲蘭達爲天主教奧妙的辯護。阿瑪蘭塔已到老年，可是過去的悲痛記憶猶新。她聽到皮埃特羅·克列斯比的華爾茲舞曲時，就象從前青年時代那樣想哭，彷彿時光和痛苦的經歷沒有給她什麼教訓。儘管她藉口說錄音帶在潮溼中腐爛了，親手把它們扔在垃圾堆裏了，可是它們仍在她的記憶裏轉動播放。她曾想把它們淹沒在她川侄兒的骯髒的戀情裏（她曾讓自己迷於這種戀情），而且曾想人格林列爾多上校男性的庇護下躲開它們，可是即使藉助老年時最惡劣的行爲，她也擺脫不了那些錄音帶的魔力：在把年輕的霍·阿卡蒂奧送往神學院的前三年，有一次她給他洗澡，曾撫摸過他，不象祖母撫摸孫子，而象女人撫摸男人，也象傳說的法國藝妓那種做法，還象她十二——十四歲時打算撫摸皮埃特歲。 克列斯比那樣；當時他穿首緊繃繃的跳舞褲兒站在她面前，揮舞魔杖跟節拍器合着拍子。阿瑪蘭塔有時難過的是，她身後留下了一大堆病苦，有時她又覺得那麼惱怒，甚至拿針扎自己的手指，然而最使她苦惱、悲哀和發狂的卻是芬芳的、滿是蟲子的愛情花圃，是這個花圃使她走向死亡的。就象奧雷連諾上校不能不想到戰爭一樣，阿瑪蘭塔不能下想到雷貝卡。不過，如果說奧雷連諾上校能夠沖淡自己的回憶，阿瑪蘭塔卻更加強了自己的回憶。在許多年中，她唯一祈求上帝的，是不要讓她在雷貝卡之前受到死亡的懲罰。每一次，她經過雷貝卡的住所時，看見它越來越破敗，就高興地以爲上帝聽從了她的要求。有一次在長廊上縫衣服的時候，她忽然深信自己將坐在這個地方，坐在同樣的位置上，在同樣的陽光下，等候雷貝卡的死訊。從那時起，阿瑪蘭塔就坐着等待，有時——這是完全真的——甚至扯掉衣服上的鈕釦，然後又把它們縫上，以免無所事事的等待顯得長久和難熬。家中誰也沒有料到，阿瑪蘭塔那時是在爲雷貝卡縫製講究的殮衣。後來奧雷連諾·特里斯特說，雷貝卡已經變成一個幽靈，皮膚皺巴巴的，腦殼上有幾根黃頭髮，阿瑪蘭塔對此並不覺得驚異，因爲他所描繪的幽靈正是她早就想象到的，阿瑪蘭塔決定拾掇雷貝卡的屍體，在她臉上損毀的地方塗上石蠟，拿聖像的頭髮給她做假髮。阿瑪蘭塔打算塑造一個漂亮的屍體，裹上亞麻布殮衣，放進棺材，悄材外面蒙上長毛絨，裏面討上紫色布，由壯觀的喪葬隊伍送給蟲子去受用。阿瑪蘭塔痛恨地擬定自己的計劃時突然想到，如果她愛雷貝卡，也會這麼幹的。這種想法使阿瑪蘭塔不寒而慄，但她沒有氣餒，繼續把計劃的一切細節考慮得更加完善，很快就不僅成了一名屍體整容專家，而已成了喪葬禮儀的行家。在這可怕的計劃中，她沒想到的只有一點：儘管她向上帝祈求，但她可能死在雷貝卡之前。事情果然如此。但在最後一分鐘，阿瑪蘭塔感到自己並沒有絕望，相反地，她沒有任何悲哀，因爲死神優待她，幾年前就頂先告訴了她結局的臨近。在把梅梅送往修道院學校之後不久，她在一個炎熱的響午就看見了死神；列神跟她一塊兒坐在長廊上縫衣服她立刻認出了死神；這死神沒什麼可怕，不過是個穿着藍衣服的女人，頭髮挺長，模樣古板，有點兒象幫助烏蘇娜幹些廚房雜活時的皮拉·苔列娜。菲蘭達也有幾次跟阿瑪蘭塔一起坐在長廊上，但她沒有看見死神，雖然死神是那麼真切，象人一樣，有一次甚至請阿瑪蘭塔替她穿針引線。死神井沒有說阿瑪蘭塔哪年哪月哪天會死，她的時刻會不會早於雷貝卡，死神只是要她從下一個月——四月六日起開始給自己縫礆衣，容許她把殮衣縫得象自己希望的那麼奇妙和漂亮，但要象給雷貝卡縫殮衣時那麼認真，隨後死神又說，阿瑪蘭塔將在礆衣縫完的那天夜裏死去，沒有痛苦，沒有憂傷和恐懼。阿瑪蘭塔打算儘量多花一些時間，選購了上等麻紗，開始自己織布。單是織布就花了四年的工夫，然後就動手縫製了，越接近難免的結局，她就越明白，只有奇蹟能夠讓她把殮衣的縫製拖到雷貝卡死亡之後，但是經常聚精會神地幹活使她得到了平靜，幫助她容忍了希望破滅的想法。正是這個時候，她懂得了奧雷連諾上校製作小金魚的惡性循環的意義。現在對她來說，外部世界就是她的身體表面，她的內心是沒有任何痛苦的。她遺憾的是許多年前沒有發現這一點，當時還能清除回憶中的骯髒東西，改變整個世界：毫不戰慄地回憶黃昏時分皮埃特羅。 克列斯比身上發出的黛衣草香味，把雷貝卡從悲慘的境地中搭救出來，——不是出於愛，也不是由於恨，而是因爲深切理解她的孤獨，有一天晚上，她在梅梅話裏感到的憎恨曾使她吃了一驚，倒不是因爲這種憎恨是針對她的，而是因爲她覺得這姑娘的青年時代和她以前一樣雖是純潔的，但已沾染了憎恨別人的壞習氣。可她感到現在已經沒有痛改前非的可能，也就滿不在乎了，聽從命董的擺佈了。她唯一操心的是縫完殮衣。她不象開頭那樣千方百計延緩工作，而是加快進度。距離工作結束還剩一個星期的時候，她估計二月四號晚上將縫最後一針，於是並沒說明原因，就勸梅梅推遲原定五號舉行的鋼琴音樂會，可是梅梅不聽她的勸告。接着，阿瑪蘭塔開始尋找繼續拖延四十八小時的辦法，甚至認爲死神迎合了她的願望，因爲二月四號晚上暴風雨把發電站破壞了。但是，第二天早上八點，阿瑪蘭塔仍在世間最漂亮的礆衣上縫了最後一針，泰然自若他說她晚上就要死了。這一點，她不僅告訴全家，而且告訴全鎮，因她以爲，最終爲人們做一件好事就能彌補自己一生的慳吝，而最適合這個目的的就是幫助人家捎信給死人。
阿瑪蘭塔傍晚就要起錨，帶着信件航行到死人國去，這個消息還在晌午之前就傳遍了整個馬孔多；下午三點，客廳裏已經立着一口裝滿了信件的箱子，不願提筆的人就讓阿瑪蘭塔傳遞口信，她把它們都記在筆記本里，並且寫上收信人的姓名及其死亡的日期。“甭擔心，”她安慰發信的人。“我到達那兒要做的第一件事就是找到他，把您的信轉交給他。”這一切象是一出滑稽戲。阿瑪蘭塔沒有任何明顯的不安，也沒有任何悲傷的跡象，由於承擔了捎信的任務，她甚至顯得年輕了。她象往常那樣筆挺、勻稱，如果不是臉頰凹陷、缺了幾顆門牙，她看上去比自己的歲數年輕得多。她親自指揮別人把信投入箱子，用樹脂把箱子封上，並且說明如何將箱子放進墳墓才能較好地防止潮溼。早上，她叫來一個木匠，當他給她量棺材尺寸的時候，她卻泰然地站着，彷彿他準備給她量衣服。在最後的時刻裏，她還有那麼充沛的精力，以致菲蘭達產生了疑心：阿瑪蘭塔說自己要死是不是跟大家尋開心？烏蘇娜知道布恩蒂亞家的人通常部是無病死亡的，所以相信阿瑪蘭塔確實得到了死亡的預兆，但在捎信的事情上，烏蘇娜擔心的是癲狂的發信人渴望信件快點兒到達，在忙亂中把她女兒活活地埋掉。因此，烏蘇娜跟剛進屋子的人爭爭吵吵，下午四點就把他們都攆出去了。這時，阿瑪蘭塔已把自己的東西分發給了窮人，只在簡陋、粗糙的木板棺材上留下了一身衣服和一雙沒有後跟的普通布鞋，這雙鞋子是她死時要穿的。她所所以沒有忽略鞋子，是她想起自己在奧雷連諾去世時曾給他買了一雙新皮鞋，因他只有一雙在作坊裏穿的家常便鞋。五點之前不久，奧雷連諾第二來叫梅梅去參加音樂會時，對家中的喪葬氣氛感到十分驚訝。這時，如果說誰象活人，那就是安詳的阿瑪蘭塔，她鎮靜自若，甚至還有時間來割自己的雞眼。奧雷連諾第二和梅梅戲謔地跟她告別，答應下個星期六舉行一次慶祝她復活的盛大酒宴，五點鐘，安東尼奧·伊薩貝爾神父聽說阿瑪蘭塔正在收集捎給死人的信，前來爲她舉行最後一次聖餐儀式，在臨死的人走出浴室之前，他不得不等候了二十多分鐘，她穿着印度白布襯衫，頭髮披在肩上，出現在衰老的教區神父面前，他以爲這是個鬼把戲，就把拿着聖餐的小廝打發走了。但他仍然決定利用這個機會聽取阿瑪蘭塔的祈禱，因爲她幾乎二十年拒絕祈禱了。阿瑪蘭塔直截了當地說，她不需要任何精神上的幫助，因爲她的心地是純潔的。菲蘭達對此很不痛快。她不顧人家可能聽見她的話，大聲地自言自語，阿瑪蘭塔寧願要褻讀神靈的死亡，而不要懺悔，這是多大的罪惡啊！然後阿瑪蘭塔躺下，讓烏蘇娜當衆證明她的貞潔。
“讓誰也不要亂想，”她大聲叫嚷，使菲蘭達能夠聽見。“阿瑪蘭塔如何來到這個世界，就如何離開這個世界。”