Friday, July 10, 2020

3.1 樹林是她 ê 避難所

Tē 3 Chiong
3.1 Chhiū-nâ sī yi ê phiah-lān-só͘
Put-jî-kò, Connie kám-kak tio̍h chi̍t-chióng lú lâi lú tōa ê put-an. In-ūi yi ê toān-choa̍t, hit ê put-an ê kám-kak tō ná siáu--ê lâi lia̍h yi. Yi boeh an-chēng ê sî, he put-an tō lâi ngiú yi ê kha-chhiú, yi boeh pàng khin-sang, bô boeh khiā-ti̍t ê sî, he put-an tō lâi tháⁿ ti̍t yi ê io-chiah-kut. He chhì-kek tī yi ê sin-thé, yi ê chú-kiong, tī chia tī hia, hō͘ yi kám-kak tio̍h thiàu-lo̍h chúi-nih siû, chiah ē-tàng kā kóaⁿ-cháu; che sī khí-siáu ê put-an. Che hō͘ yi sim-thiàu bô iân bô kò͘ piàn kín. Yi lú lâi lú sán.
Tō sī chit-chióng put-an, hō͘ yi tio̍h cháu-kòe lîm-hn̂g, pàng-lo̍h Clifford, lâi tó tī koeh-niau châng nih. Án-ne lī-khui chhù... yi su-iàu lī-khui chhù hām só͘-ū ê lâng. Chhiū-nâ sī yi ē-sái bih ê só͘-chāi, sī yi ê phiah-lān-só͘.
M̄-koh chia m̄-sī chin-chiàⁿ ē-sái bih, phiah-lān ê só͘-chāi, in-ūi yi kap chia bô khan-liân. Chia chí-sī yi cháu-siám it-chhè ê só͘-chāi. Yi chiông-lâi m̄-bat chiap-chhiok tio̍h chhiū-nâ pún-sin ê sîn-lêng... ká-sú kóng chhiū-nâ ū chit-chióng koài-kî ê mi̍h-kiāⁿ.
Bâng-bâng tiong, yi chai ka-tī ná boeh sòaⁿ-khì ah. Bâng-bâng tiong, yi hām it-chhè lóng bô khan-liân ah: yi hām si̍t-chit, ū oa̍h-le̍k ê sè-kài thoat-lī koan-hē ah. Yi kan-ta ū Clifford kap i ê chheh, he sī bô chûn-chāi... he lāi-té bô-siáⁿ! Khang-khak lāi-té ê khang-hi. Bâng-bâng tiong, yi chai. M̄-koh che tō ná iōng thâu-khak lòng chio̍h-thâu.
Yin lāu-pē koh kā kéng-kò: "Lí ná m̄ khì thó chi̍t ê cha-po͘, Connie? Chò kóa tùi lí ka-tī hó ê tāi-chì."
Hit nî kôaⁿ-thiⁿ, Michaelis lâi chia tòa kúi-nā kang. I sī chi̍t ê siàu-liân Irland lâng, i ê kio̍k-pún tī Bí-kok í-keng thàn chin chē chîⁿ. Chi̍t tōaⁿ sî-kan, i tī London ê sin-phài siā-hōe chin siū hoan-gêng, in-ūi i siá ê sī sin-phài siā-hōe ê kio̍k-pún. Āu-lâi, sin-phài siā-hōe bān-bān liáu-kái, in khì hō͘ chit ê Dublin àu-kha-siàu chng-siáu-ê, in tō khai-sí thó-ià i. Michaelis tō piàn-sêng hā-liû koh chháu-pau ê lâng-miâ. I tō hông hoat-hiān kóng, i hoán-poān England, tùi hoat-hiān che ê lâng lâi kóng, che sī siōng lah-sap ê chōe-kò. Chū án-ne, i tō hông thâi koh siah, koh hông ná pùn-sò án-ne phiaⁿ lī-lī.
Put-jî-kò, Michaelis tòa tī Mayfair khu, sī Bond Ke lâi-lâi khì-khì ê sin-sū, in-ūi siōng-hó ê châi-hông mā bē kī-choa̍t hā-liû ê lâng-kheh, chí-iàu lâng-kheh goān-ì hù-chîⁿ tō hó.
Clifford tī chit ê 30 hòe siàu-liân sū-gia̍p soe-siâu ê sî iau-chhiáⁿ i lâi. M̄-koh Clifford pēng bô tiû-tû. Michaelis hoān-sè ū chi̍t kōaⁿ kúi-nā pah-bān ê fans; taⁿ piàn-sêng chi̍t ê bô hi-bāng ê gōa-lâng, hō͘ sin-phài ê siā-hōe koah lī-lī, tī chit ê sî-kan tiám hông iau-chhiáⁿ lâi Wragby, i tiāⁿ-tio̍h chin kám-kek. In-ūi kám-kek, i tiāⁿ-tio̍h ē tī Bí-kok thè Clifford chò "hó sū". Chhut-miâ! M̄-koán sī siáⁿ-hòe, chí-iàu ū-lâng teh tâm-lūn, jīm-hô lâng lóng ē piàn-kah chin chhut-miâ, iû-kî sī tī Bí-kok. Clifford sī chi̍t ê tán boeh chhut-miâ ê lâng; chin bêng-hián, i ê pún-sèng tō sī ài chhut-miâ. Lo̍h-bóe, Michaelis tī chi̍t chhut kio̍k-pún lāi-té kā Clifford siá-kah chin ko-kùi, kā i phô͘-chò tāi-chiòng eng-hiông. Kàu āu-lâi ê hoán-èng, Clifford chiah chai, i khì hō͘ Michaelis chok-lōng khì.
Connie kám-kak kî-koài, Clifford ná ē hiah-nī mî-chiⁿ, hiah-nī pek-chhiat siūⁿ boeh chhut-miâ: tī chi̍t ê i ka-tī mā bô liáu-kái, koh ē kiaⁿ-hiâⁿ ê bâng-bâng tōa sè-kài, siūⁿ boeh chò chhut-miâ ê chok-ka, chò it-liû ê hiān-tāi chok-ka. Ùi yin hit ê sêng-kong, nî-lāu, hó-sim, koh ài phòng-hong ê lāu-pē Malcolm Sià hia, Connie chai-iáⁿ, gē-su̍t-ka mā tio̍h ka-tī soan-thoân, ài phah-piàⁿ thui-siau ka-tī ê chok-phín. M̄-koh yin lāu-pē sī iōng lāu hong-hoat, iōng kî-thaⁿ Hông-ka Gē-su̍t Ha̍k-hōe hōe-oân bē chok-phín ê hong-hoat. Iah Clifford neh, i hoat-hiān kok-chióng chhut-miâ ê sin hong-hoat. I chhiáⁿ kok-chióng lâng lâi Wragby, sui-bóng bô sit sin-hūn, m̄-koh in-ūi siūⁿ boeh kín-kín chhut-miâ, i siáⁿ-mih pō͘-sò͘ lóng chhái-iōng.
Michaelis hit-sî lâi lah, chē chi̍t chiah súi chhia, tòe chi̍t ê su-ki kap chi̍t ê lâm-po̍k. I chhēng-chhah ji̍p-sî! M̄-koh khòaⁿ tio̍h i, Clifford ê chng-kha sin-sū soah tò-kiu. Michaelis ná m̄-sī... ná m̄-sī... sū-si̍t-siōng, hm, i kin-pún to m̄-sī gōa-piáu boeh hián-sī ê hit-lō khoán. Chit tiám tùi Clifford sī khak-tēng, mā bô gî-būn. M̄-koh i iáu sī tùi Michaelis chin hó-lé; him-siān i liáu-put-khí ê sêng-kong. Pòaⁿ khiam-hi, pòaⁿ hong-sîn ê Michaelis kha-piⁿ ná ū Sêng-kong ê káu-bó-sîn tòe tio̍h, giàng-gê teh pó-hō͘ i, kā Clifford heh-kiaⁿ tio̍h: in-ūi i ka-tī mā siūⁿ boeh bē-sin hō͘ Sêng-kong káu-bó-sîn, chí-iàu lú-sîn nā khéng chiap-la̍p i tō hó.
M̄-koán London siōng ko-kip tē-khu ê châi-hông tiàm, bō-á tiàm, thì-thâu tiàm, phôe-ê tiàm án-chóaⁿ kā chng-thāⁿ, Michaelis bêng-hián tō m̄-sī England lâng. Bô, bô, i bêng-bêng bô sêng England lâng: m̄-tio̍h khoán ê pêⁿ koh pe̍h ê bīn kap kí-tōng; m̄-tio̍h khoán ê ai-oàn. I ū put-boán kap ai-oàn: chin-chiàⁿ chāi-tē seⁿ ê England sin-sū lóng khòaⁿ ē chhut che, m̄-koh chin-chiàⁿ England sin-sū khòaⁿ bē-khí chit-chióng bêng-hián ê hêng-ûi. Khó-liân ê Michaelis siū tio̍h chin chē chau-that, kàu-taⁿ khòaⁿ khí-lâi ná iáu kā bóe-liu gia̍p-tio̍h. I khò pún-lêng kap kāu bīn-phôe, iōng i ê hì-kio̍k ūi ka-tī phah-khui chi̍t tiâu lō͘, koh piàn chhut-miâ. I khip-ín koan-chiòng, siūⁿ kóng hông chau-that ê ji̍t-chí í-keng kòe-khì ah. Ai-ah, iáu bōe... éng-oán bē kòe-khì. In-ūi chóng-kóng, i thó lâng chau-that. I giàn boeh tī bô-ha̍h i ê só͘-chāi... tī England siōng-liû kai-kip. Ta̍k-ê lóng gōa-nī hoaⁿ-hí chau-that i! I mā chiok chheh pa̍t-lâng!
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3
3.1 樹林是她 ê 避難所
不而過, Connie 感覺著一種愈來愈大 ê 不安. 因為她 ê 斷絕, 彼个不安 ê 感覺 tō ná 痟 ê 來掠她. 她欲安靜 ê , 彼不安 來扭她 ê 跤手, 她欲放輕鬆, 無欲 khiā ê , 彼不安 來挺直她 ê 腰脊骨. 彼刺激 ê 身體, ê 子宮, tī , 予她感覺著跳落水 nih 泅, 才會當 趕走; 這是起痟 ê 不安. 這予她心跳無緣無故變緊. 她愈來愈瘦.
是這種不安, 予她著走過林園, 放落 Clifford, 來倒 蕨貓叢 nih. Án-ne 離開厝... 她需要離開厝和所有 ê . 樹林是她會使 bih ê 所在, 是她 ê 避難所.
毋過遮毋是真正會使 bih, 避難 ê 所在, 因為她 kap 遮無牽連. 遮只是她走閃一切 ê 所在. 她從來毋 bat 接觸著樹林本身 ê 神靈... 假使講樹林有這種怪奇 ê 物件.
茫茫中, 她知家己 欲散去 ah. 茫茫中, 她和一切攏無牽連 ah: 她和實質, 有活力 ê 世界脫離關係 ah. 她干焦有 Clifford kap ê , 彼是無存在... 彼內底無啥! 空殼內底 ê 空虛. 茫茫中, 她知. 毋過這 tō ná 用頭殼挵石頭.
老爸 koh kā 警告: "你那毋去討一个查埔, Connie? 做寡對你家己好 ê 代誌."
彼年寒天, Michaelis 來遮蹛幾若工. 伊是一个少年 Irland , ê 劇本 美國已經趁真濟錢. 一段時間, tī London ê 新派社會真受歡迎, 因為伊寫 ê 是新派社會 ê 劇本. 後來, 新派社會慢慢了解, in 去予這个 Dublin 漚跤數裝痟 ê, in tō 開始討厭伊. Michaelis tō 變成下流 koh 草包 ê 人名. tō hông 發現講, 伊反叛 England, 對發現這 ê 人來講, 這是上 lah-sap ê 罪過. án-ne, tō hông koh , koh hông ná pùn-sò án-ne 抨離離.
不而過, Michaelis tī Mayfair , Bond 街來來去去 ê 紳士, 因為上好 ê 裁縫 袂拒絕下流 ê 人客, 只要人客願意付錢 .
Clifford tī 這个 30 歲少年事業衰潲 ê 時邀請伊來. 毋過 Clifford 並無躊躇. Michaelis 凡勢有一捾幾若百萬 ê fans; 今變成一个無希望 ê 外人, 予新派 ê 社會割離離, tī 這个時間點 hông 邀請來 Wragby, 伊定著真感激. 因為感激, 伊定著會 美國替 Clifford "好事". 出名! 毋管是啥貨, 只要有人 teh 談論, 任何人攏會變甲真出名, 尤其是 美國. Clifford 是一个等欲出名 ê ; 真明顯, ê 本性 是愛出名. 落尾, Michaelis tī 一齣劇本內底 kā Clifford 寫甲真高貴, kā 伊扶做大眾英雄. 到後來 ê 反應, Clifford 才知, 伊去予 Michaelis 作弄去.
Connie 感覺奇怪, Clifford 那hiah-nī 綿精, hiah-nī 迫切想欲出名: tī 一个伊家己 無了解, koh 會驚惶 ê 茫茫大世界, 想欲做出名 ê 作家, 做一流 ê 現代作家. Ùi 姻彼个成功, 年老, 好心, koh 愛膨風 ê 老爸 Malcolm Sià , Connie 知影, 藝術家 著家己宣傳, 愛拍拚推銷家己 ê 作品. 毋過姻老爸是用老方法, 用其他皇家藝術學會會員賣作品 ê 方法. Iah Clifford neh, 伊發現各種出名 ê 新方法. 伊請各種人來 Wragby, 雖罔無失身份, 毋過因為想欲緊緊出名, 伊啥物步數攏採用.
Michaelis 彼時來 lah, 坐一隻媠車, 綴一个司機 kap 一个男僕. 伊穿插入時! 毋過看著伊, Clifford 這个庄跤紳士煞倒勼. Michaelis ná 毋是... ná 毋是... 事實上, hm, 伊根本都毋是外表欲顯示 ê hit-lō . 這點對 Clifford 是確定, mā 無疑問. 毋過伊猶是對 Michaelis 真好禮; 欣羨伊了不起 ê 成功. 半謙虛, 半風神 ê Michaelis 跤邊 有成功 ê 狗母神綴著, giàng teh 保護伊, kā Clifford 嚇驚著: 因為伊家己 想欲賣身予成功狗母神, 只要女神若肯接納伊 .
毋管 London 上高級地區 ê 裁縫店, 帽仔店, 剃頭店, 皮鞋店按怎 thāⁿ, Michaelis 明顯 毋是 England . , , 伊明明無成 England : 毋著款 ê koh ê kap 舉動; 毋著款 ê 哀怨. 伊有不滿 kap 哀怨: 真正在地生 ê England 紳士攏看會出這, 毋過真正 England 紳士看袂起這種明顯 ê 行為. 可憐 ê Michaelis 受著真濟蹧躂, 到今看起來 尾溜挾著. 伊靠本能 kap 厚面皮, 用伊 ê 戲劇為家己拍開一條路, koh 變出名. 伊吸引觀眾, 想講 hông 蹧躂 ê 日子已經過去 ah. Ai-ah, 猶未... 永遠袂過去. 因為總講, 伊討人蹧躂. 伊癮欲 無合伊 ê 所在... tī England 上流階級. 逐个攏 gōa-nī 歡喜蹧躂伊! 足慼別人!
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Chapter 3
3.1
Connie was aware, however, of a growing restlessness. Out of her disconnexion, a restlessness was taking possession of her like madness. It twitched her limbs when she didn't want to twitch them, it jerked her spine when she didn't want to jerk upright but preferred to rest comfortably. It thrilled inside her body, in her womb, somewhere, till she felt she must jump into water and swim to get away from it; a mad restlessness. It made her heart beat violently for no reason. And she was getting thinner.
It was just restlessness. She would rush off across the park, abandon Clifford, and lie prone in the bracken. To get away from the house… must get away from the house and everybody. The wood was her one refuge, her sanctuary.
But it was not really a refuge, a sanctuary, because she had no connexion with it. It was only a place where she could get away from the rest. She never really touched the spirit of the wood itself… if it had any such nonsensical thing.
Vaguely she knew herself that she was going to pieces in some way. Vaguely she knew she was out of connexion: she had lost touch with the substantial and vital world. Only Clifford and his books, which did not exist… which had nothing in them! Void to void. Vaguely she knew. But it was like beating her head against a stone.
Her father warned her again: 'Why don't you get yourself a beau, Connie? Do you all the good in the world.'
That winter Michaelis came for a few days. He was a young Irishman who had already made a large fortune by his plays in America. He had been taken up quite enthusiastically for a time by smart society in London, for he wrote smart society plays. Then gradually smart society realized that it had been made ridiculous at the hands of a down-at-heel Dublin street-rat, and revulsion came. Michaelis was the last word in what was caddish and bounderish. He was discovered to be anti-English, and to the class that made this discovery this was worse than the dirtiest crime. He was cut dead, and his corpse thrown into the refuse can.
Nevertheless Michaelis had his apartment in Mayfair, and walked down Bond Street the image of a gentleman, for you cannot get even the best tailors to cut their low-down customers, when the customers pay.
Clifford was inviting the young man of thirty at an inauspicious moment in the young man's career. Yet Clifford did not hesitate. Michaelis had the ear of a few million people, probably; and, being a hopeless outsider, he would no doubt be grateful to be asked down to Wragby at this juncture, when the rest of the smart world was cutting him. Being grateful, he would no doubt do Clifford 'good' over there in America. Kudos! A man gets a lot of kudos, whatever that may be, by being talked about in the right way, especially 'over there'. Clifford was a coming man; and it was remarkable what a sound publicity instinct he had. In the end Michaelis did him most nobly in a play, and Clifford was a sort of popular hero. Till the reaction, when he found he had been made ridiculous.
Connie wondered a little over Clifford's blind, imperious instinct to become known: known, that is, to the vast amorphous world he did not himself know, and of which he was uneasily afraid; known as a writer, as a first-class modern writer. Connie was aware from successful, old, hearty, bluffing Sir Malcolm, that artists did advertise themselves, and exert themselves to put their goods over. But her father used channels ready-made, used by all the other R.A.s who sold their pictures. Whereas Clifford discovered new channels of publicity, all kinds. He had all kinds of people at Wragby, without exactly lowering himself. But, determined to build himself a monument of a reputation quickly, he used any handy rubble in the making.
Michaelis arrived duly, in a very neat car, with a chauffeur and a manservant. He was absolutely Bond Street! But at sight of him something in Clifford's county soul recoiled. He wasn't exactly… not exactly… in fact, he wasn't at all, well, what his appearance intended to imply. To Clifford this was final and enough. Yet he was very polite to the man; to the amazing success in him. The bitch-goddess, as she is called, of Success, roamed, snarling and protective, round the half-humble, half-defiant Michaelis' heels, and intimidated Clifford completely: for he wanted to prostitute himself to the bitch-goddess Success also, if only she would have him.
Michaelis obviously wasn't an Englishman, in spite of all the tailors, hatters, barbers, booters of the very best quarter of London. No, no, he obviously wasn't an Englishman: the wrong sort of flattish, pale face and bearing; and the wrong sort of grievance. He had a grudge and a grievance: that was obvious to any true-born English gentleman, who would scorn to let such a thing appear blatant in his own demeanour. Poor Michaelis had been much kicked, so that he had a slightly tail-between-the-legs look even now. He had pushed his way by sheer instinct and sheerer effrontery on to the stage and to the front of it, with his plays. He had caught the public. And he had thought the kicking days were over. Alas, they weren't… They never would be. For he, in a sense, asked to be kicked. He pined to be where he didn't belong… among the English upper classes. And how they enjoyed the various kicks they got at him! And how he hated them!
Nevertheless he travelled with his manservant and his very neat car, this Dublin mongrel.
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