短篇小說《一個干凈明亮的地方》是海明威的早期作品，是一部典型的虛無主義小說，具有典型的海明威風(fēng)格：文章以虛無思想為主題并大量使用簡潔句。
一個干凈明亮的地方
A Clean, Well-Lighted Place
【導(dǎo)讀】
短篇小說《一個干凈明亮的地方》是海明威的早期作品，是一部典型的虛無主義小說，具有典型的海明威風(fēng)格：文章以虛無思想為主題并大量使用簡潔句。這篇小說所描述的是一位老人和兩位侍者的故事，其中老人這一人物形象看似微不足道，但從他自殺和飲酒的兩個選擇行為來分析，他是個展現(xiàn)了重壓之下的優(yōu)雅風(fēng)度和精神不敗的尊嚴(yán)感的海明威式主人公。兩位侍者之間的對話引出了“虛無”這一主題，表明“虛無是對存在的體驗，人類只有在內(nèi)心保持一片干凈明亮的地方才能抵御虛無。”
【作者簡介】
歐內(nèi)斯特·米勒爾·海明威 （Ernest Miller Hemingway，1899.7.21－1961.7.2），美國小說家。海明威出生于美國伊利諾伊州芝加哥市郊區(qū)的奧克帕克，晚年在愛達荷州凱徹姆的家中自殺身亡。海明威代表作有《老人與?！贰ⅰ短栒諛由稹?、《永別了，武器》、《喪鐘為誰而鳴》等，憑借《老人與?！帆@得1953年普利策獎及1954年諾貝爾文學(xué)獎。海明威被譽為美利堅民族的精神豐碑，并且是“新聞體”小說的創(chuàng)始人，他的筆鋒一向以“文壇硬漢”著稱。海明威的寫作風(fēng)格以簡潔著稱，對美國文學(xué)及20世紀(jì)文學(xué)的發(fā)展有極深遠(yuǎn)的影響。
【選段】
此處選取的是這一短篇的開頭部分，小說中的三個人物悉數(shù)登場，兩位侍者的對話會讓讀者對三個人物各自的性格有一個直觀的了解。
It was very late and everyone had left the cafe except an old man who sat in the shadow the leaves of the tree made against the electric light. In the day time the street was dusty, but at night the dew settled the dust and the old man liked to sit late because he was deaf and now at night it was quiet and he felt the difference. The two waiters inside the cafe knew that the old man was a little drunk, and while he was a good client they knew that if he became too drunk he would leave without paying, so they kept watch on him.
“Last week he tried to commit suicide,” one waiter said.
“Why?”
“He was in despair.”
“What about?”
“Nothing.”
“How do you know it was nothing?”
“He has plenty of money.”
They sat together at a table that was close against the wall near the door of the cafe and looked at the terrace where the tables were all empty except where the old man sat in the shadow of the leaves of the tree that moved slightly in the wind. A girl and a soldier went by in the street. The street light shone on the brass number on his collar. The girl wore no head covering and hurried beside him.
“The guard will pick him up,” one waiter said.
“What does it matter if he gets what he’s after?”
“He had better get off the street now. The guard will get him. They went by five minutes ago.”
The old man sitting in the shadow rapped on his saucer with his glass. The younger waiter went over to him.
“What do you want?”
The old man looked at him. “Another brandy,” he said.
“You’ll be drunk,” the waiter said. The old man looked at him. The waiter went away.
“He’ll stay all night,” he said to his colleague. “I’m sleepy now. I never get into bed before three o’clock. He should have killed himself last week.”
The waiter took the brandy bottle and another saucer from the counter inside the cafe and marched out to the old man’s table. He put down the saucer and poured the glass full of brandy.
“You should have killed yourself last week,” he said to the deaf man. The old man motioned with his finger. “A little more,” he said. The waiter poured on into the glass so that the brandy slopped over and ran down the stem into the top saucer of the pile. “Thank you,” the old man said. The waiter took the bottle back inside the cafe. He sat down at the table with his colleague again.
“He’s drunk now,” he said.
“He’s drunk every night.”
“What did he want to kill himself for?”
“How should I know.”
“How did he do it?”
“He hung himself with a rope.”
“Who cut him down?”
“His niece.”
“Why did they do it?”
“Fear for his soul.”
“How much money has he got?” “He’s got plenty.”
“He must be eighty years old.”
“Anyway I should say he was eighty.”
“I wish he would go home. I never get to bed before three o’clock. What kind of hour is that to go to bed?”
“He stays up because he likes it.”
“He’s lonely. I’m not lonely. I have a wife waiting in bed for me.”
“He had a wife once too.”
“A wife would be no good to him now.”
“You can’t tell. He might be better with a wife.”
“His niece looks after him. You said she cut him down.”
“I know.”
“I wouldn’t want to be that old. An old man is a nasty thing.”
“Not always. This old man is clean. He drinks without spilling. Even now, drunk. Look at him.”
“I don’t want to look at him. I wish he would go home. He has no regard for those who must work.”
The old man looked from his glass across the square, then over at the waiters.
“Another brandy,” he said, pointing to his glass. The waiter who was in a hurry came over.
“Finished,” he said, speaking with that omission of syntax stupid people employ when talking to drunken people or foreigners. “No more tonight. Close now.”
“Another,” said the old man.
“No. Finished.” The waiter wiped the edge of the table with a towel and shook his head.
The old man stood up, slowly counted the saucers, took a leather coin purse from his pocket and paid for the drinks, leaving half a peseta tip. The waiter watched him go down the street, a very old man walking unsteadily but with dignity.
