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每個作家都有他成爲作家的理由，我自然也不能例外，但我爲什麽成了一個這樣的作家，而沒有成爲像海明威、福克納那樣的作家，我想這與我獨特的童年經曆有關。我認爲這是我的幸運，也是我在今後的歲月裡還可以繼續從事寫作這個職業的理由。
Every person has his own reasons for becoming a writer, and I am no exception. But why I became the sort of writer I am and not another Hemingway or Faulkner is, I believe, linked to my childhood experiences. They have been a boon to my writing career and are what will make it possible for me to keep at it down the road.
從現在退回去大約四十年，也就是 20 世紀的 60 年代初期，正是中國近代曆史上一個古怪而狂熱的時期。那時候一方面是物質極度貧乏，人民喫不飽穿不暖，幾乎可以說是在死亡線上掙紮；但另一方面卻是人民有高度的政治熱情，饑餓的人民勒緊腰帶跟著共産黨進行共産主義實驗。那時候我們雖然餓得半死，但我們卻認爲自己是世界上最幸福的人，而世界上還有三分之二的人――包括美國人――都還生活在「水深火熱」的苦難生活之中。而我們這些餓得半死的人還肩負著把妳們從苦海裏拯救出來的神聖責任。當然，到了八十年代，中國對外敞開了大門之後，我們才恍然大悟、如夢初醒。
Looking back forty years ago, to the early 1960s, I revisit one of modern China’s most bizarre periods, an era of unprecedented fanaticism. On one hand, those years saw the country in the grips of economic stagnation and individual deprivation. The people struggled to keep death from their door, with little to eat and rags fro clothes; on the other hand, it was a time of intense political passions, when starving citizens tightens their belts and followed the Party in its Communist experiment. We may have been famished at the time, but we considered ourselves to be the luckiest people in the world. Two-thirds of the world’s people, we believed, were living in dire misery, and it was our sacred duty to rescue them from the sea of suffering in which they were drowning. It wasn’t until the 1980s, when China opened its door to the outside world, that we finally began to face reality, as if walking from a dream.
在我的童年時期，根本就不知道世界上還有照相這碼事，知道了也照不起。所以我隻能根據後來看到過的一些曆史照片，再加上自己的回憶，來想像出自己的童年形象。我敢擔保我想像出來的形象是真實的。
As a child, I knew nothing about photography, and even if I had I couldn’t have afforded to have my picture taken. So I am able to piece together am image of my childhood based solely upon historical photographs and my own collections, although I dare say the image I conjure up is real to me.
那時，我們這些五六歲的孩子，在春、夏、秋三個季節裡，基本上是赤身裸體的，隻是到了嚴寒的冬季，才胡亂地穿上一件衣服。那些衣服的破爛程度是今天的中國孩子想像不到的。我相信我奶奶經常教導我的一句話，她說人隻有享不了的福，但是沒有受不了的罪。我也相信達爾文的適者生存學說，人在險惡的環境裏，也許會煥發出驚人的生命力。不能適應的都死掉了，能夠活過來的，就是優良的品種。所以，我大概也是一個優良的品種。那時候我們都有驚人的抗寒能力，連渾身羽毛的小鳥都凍得唧唧亂叫時，我們光著屁股，也沒有感到冷得受不了。我對當時的我充滿了敬佩之情，那時我真的不簡單，比現在的我優秀許多倍。
Back then, five-or-six-year-olds like myself went virtually naked all through the spring, the summer, and the fall. We threw something over our backs only during the bitterly cold winters. Such tattered clothes are beyond the imagination of today’s children in China. My grandmother once told me that while there is no suffering a person cannot endure, there is plenty of good fortune one can never hope to enjoy. I believe that. I also believe in Darwin’s theory of the survival of the fittest. When some one is thrown into the most perilous circumstances, he may well display surprising vitality. Thos who can’t adapt die off, while those who survive are of the best stock. So I guess I can say I come from superior stock. During those times, we had an amazing ability to withstand cold. With our bottoms exposed, we didn’t feel that the cold was unbearable, even though feathered birds cried in the freezing weather. I have nothing but admiration for myself as a youngster; I was a force to be reckoned with then, a much finer specimen than I am now.
那時候我們這些孩子的思想非常單純，每天想的就是食物和如何才能搞到食物。我們就像一群饑餓的小狗，在村子中的大街小巷裡嗅來嗅去，尋找可以果腹的食物。許多在今天看來根本不能入口的東西，在當時卻成了我們的美味。我們喫樹上的葉子，樹上的葉子喫光後，我們就喫樹的皮，樹皮喫光後，我們就啃樹幹。那時候我們村的樹是地球上最倒黴的樹，牠們被我們啃得遍體鱗傷。那時候我們都練出了一口鋒利的牙齒，世界上大概沒有我們咬不動的東西。我的一個小夥伴後來當了電工，他的工具袋裡既沒有鉗子也沒有刀子，像鉛筆那樣粗的鋼絲他毫不費力地就可以咬斷，別的電工用刀子和鉗子才能完成的工作，他用牙齒就可以完成了。那時我的牙齒也很好，但不如我那個當了電工的朋友的牙齒好，否則我很可能是一個優秀的電工而不是一個作家。
(As kids), what run through our heads was simplicity itself: all we ever thought about was food and how to get it. We were like a pack if starving dogs, haunting the streets and lanes sniffing the air for something to put inside our bellies. Plenty of things no one would even consider putting into their mouths these days were treats for us then. We ate the leaves off trees, and once they were gone we turned our attention to the bark. After that, we gnawed on the trunks themselves. No trees in the world ever suffered as much as those in our village. But instead of wearing our teeth down, our peculiar diet made them as sharp and strong as knives. Nothing could stand up to them. One of my childhood friends became an electrician after he grew up. There were no pliers or knives in his tool kit; all he needed was his teeth to bite through wire as thick as a pencil— those were the tools of his trade. I had strong teeth too, but not as strong as my electrician friend’s. Otherwise, I might have become a first-rate electrician rather than a writer.
1961 年的春天，我們村子裡的小學校裡拉來了一車亮晶晶的煤塊，我們孤陋寡聞，不知道這是什麽東西。一個聰明的孩子拿起一塊煤，咯嘣咯嘣地喫起來，看他喫得香甜的樣子，味道肯定很好，於是我們一擁而上，每人搶了一塊煤，咯嘣咯嘣喫起來。我感到那煤塊愈嚼愈香，味道的確是好極了。看到我們喫得香甜，村子裡的大人們也撲上來喫，學校裡的校長出來阻止，於是人們就開始哄搶。至於煤塊喫到肚子裡的感覺，我已經忘記了，但喫煤時口腔裡的感覺和煤的味道，至今還牢記在心。不要以爲那時候我們就沒有歡樂，其實那時候我們仍有許多歡樂，我們爲發現了一種可以食用的物品而歡欣鼓舞。
In the spring of 1961, a load of glistening coal was delivered to our elementary school. We were so out of touch we didn’t know what the stuff was. But one of the brightest kids picked up a piece, bit off a chunk, and started crunching away. The look of near rapture on his face meant it must have been delicious. So we rushed over, grabbed pieces of our own, and started crunching away. The more I ate, the better the stuff tasted, until it seemed absolutely delicious. Then some of the village adults who were looking on came up to see what we were eating with such gusto, and joined in. When the principal came out to put a stop to this feast, that only led to pushing and shoving. Just what the coal felt like down in my belly is something I can no longer recall, but I’ll never forget how it tasted. Don’t for a minute think there was no pleasure in our lives back then. We had fun doing lots of things. Topping the list of fun things to do was gleefully eating something we’d never considered food before.
這樣的饑餓歲月大概延續了兩年多，到了六十年代中期，我們的生活好了起來，雖然還是喫不飽，但每人每年可以分到兩佰斤糧食，再加上到田野裡去挖一點野菜，基本上可以維持人的生命，餓死人的事愈來愈少了。
The famine lasted for a couple of years or more, until the mid-1960s, when life improved. We still didn’t have enough to eat, but every person was allotted about 200 pounds of grain per year; that combined with the wild greens we foraged in the fields was enough to get by on, and fewer people starved to death.
當然，僅僅有饑餓的體驗，並不一定就能成爲作家，但饑餓使我成爲一個對生命的體驗特別深刻的作家。長期的饑餓使我知道，食物對於人是多麽的重要。什麽光榮、事業、理想、愛情，都是喫飽肚子之後才有的事情。因爲喫我曾經喪失過自尊，因爲喫我曾經被人像狗一樣地淩辱，因爲喫我才發奮走上了創作之路。
Obviously, the experience of going hungry cannot, by itself, make a writer out of someone, but once I became a writer, I had a deeper understanding of life than most because of it. Prolonged hunger made me realize how very important food is to people. Glory, causes, careers, and love mean nothing on an empty stomach. Because of food, I lost my self-respect; because of food, I suffered the humiliation of a lowly cur; and because of food I took up creative writing, with a vengeance.
【 摘自 莫言：《小說在寫我：莫言演講集》】 |
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