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第二章（1）
About half way between West Egg and New York the motor—road hastily joins the railroad and runs beside it for a quarter of a mile, so as to shrink away from a certain desolate area of land. This is a valley of ashes—a fantastic farm where ashes grow like wheat into ridges and hills and grotesque gardens where ashes take the forms of houses and chimneys and rising smoke and finally, with a transcendent effort, of men who move dimly and already crumbling through the powdery air. Occasionally a line of grey cars crawls along an invisible track, gives out a ghastly creak and comes to rest, and immediately the ash—grey men swarm up with leaden spades and stir up an impenetrable cloud which screens their obscure operations from your sight.
在从西卵去纽约中间一半路程的地方，公路突然和铁路匆匆会合，而且为了避开一片荒芜的空地，公路顺着铁路延伸了足有四分之一英里长。这是一个飞灰笼罩的山谷——灰烬从一个离奇古怪的农场如同小麦一样生长开来，长成了山脉，长成了小丘，长成了怪异的花园，灰烬在这些地方又变成了房子，烟囱，袅袅炊烟，最后又使尽浑身解数变成了一个个模模糊糊走动着的人，这些人又已经在灰粉飞舞的空气里化为灰烬。偶尔有一排灰色的汽车沿着一条看不清楚的路线缓慢爬行，在一阵怪异的嘎吱声中停了下来，停下瞬间只见一群浑身是灰的人带着铁锹蜂拥而上，他们搅起漫天灰尘，让你根本看不清楚他们到底在干什么。
But above the grey land and the spasms of bleak dust which drift endlessly over it, you perceive, after a moment, the eyes of Doctor T.J. Eckleburg. The eyes of Doctor T.J. Eckleburg are blue and gigantic—their retinas are one yard high. They look out of no face but, instead, from a pair of enormous yellow spectacles which pass over a nonexistent nose. Evidently some wild wag of an oculist set them there to fatten his practice in the borough of Queens, and then sank down himself into eternal blindness or forgot them and moved away. But his eyes, dimmed a little by many paintless days under sun and rain, brood on over the sol—emn dumping ground.
但是在这片灰蒙蒙的土地上，在无休止地飘荡于其上的一阵阵尘土之上，不久你就会看到T. J. 埃克尔堡大夫的一双眼睛。T. J. 埃克尔堡大夫那蓝色的眼睛犹如巨人一般——视网膜就足有一码高。眼睛周围看不到脸庞，只看见一副被一个根本看不见的鼻子支撑起来的巨大的眼镜。毫无疑问那是一个异想天开的眼科医生为了在女王行政区增加自己的业务，故意将它们立起来的，后来那医生自己没落消失了，或是将它们遗忘在此，自己搬走了。然而他的这两只眼睛经过长年累月的日晒雨淋已经暗淡无光了，却依旧若有所思地凝望着这块废弃的土地。
The valley of ashes is bounded on one side by a small foul river, and when the drawbridge is up to let barges through, the passengers on waiting trains can stare at the dismal scene for as long as half an hour. There is always a halt there of at least a minute and it was because of this that I first met Tom Buchanan's mistress.
这个灰尘飞扬的峡谷一边有一条又脏又臭的小河，当吊桥打开驳船通行的时候，等在一边的火车上的乘客就会对着这一惨淡的景象注视上半个小时。一般在那里经过的火车至少都要停一分钟。正因如此，我才第一次见到了汤姆•布坎南的情妇。
The fact that he had one was insisted upon wherever he was known. His acquaintances resented the fact that he turned up in popular restaurants with her and, leaving her at a table, sauntered about, chatting with whomsoever he knew. Though I was curious to see her I had no desire to meet her—but I did. I went up to New York with Tom on the train one afternoon and when we stopped by the ashheaps he jumped to his feet and taking hold of my elbow literally forced me from the car.
认识他的人都确信他在外面有情妇的事实。让那些认识他的人都愤怒不已的是，他经常带着她去流行餐馆就餐，然后将她一个人丢在餐桌旁，自己到处走动找熟人聊天。虽然我对于她的样子感到很好奇，我并不想和她见面——但是我却见到了她。一天下午，我和汤姆一同坐火车去纽约。刚好一个灰土堆将车挡住了，车刚一停他就跳起来，一把抓住我的胳膊，将我生拉硬扯地拖出了车外。
"We" re getting off! "he insisted. " I want you to meet my girl. "
“我们现在下车！” 他坚决地说道， “我想给你介绍一下我的女朋友。”
I think he "d tanked up a good deal at luncheon and his determination to have my company bordered on violence. The supercilious assumption was that on Sunday afternoon I had nothing better to do.
我觉得他午饭的时候肯定是喝多了，他让我陪他见女朋友的决心接近于暴力行事了。他可能极其傲慢地认为我在周末的下午没有什么别的事情好干的了。
I followed him over a low white—washed railroad fence and we walked back a hundred yards along the road under Doctor Eckleburg's persistent stare. The only building in sight was a small block of yellow brick sitting on the edge of the waste land, a sort of compact Main Street ministering to it and contiguous to absolutely nothing. One of the three shops it contained was for rent and another was an all—night restaurant approached by a trail of ashes; the third was a garage—Repairs. GEORGE B. WILSON. Cars Bought and Sold—and I followed Tom inside.
我跟着他跨过一排矮矮的白色铁路栏杆，然后在埃克尔堡大夫的注视下沿着公路往回走了一百码。眼前能看到的唯一建筑是一座黄砖砌成的小屋，边上是一块废地，看上去像是一条小型的商业街，附近便再无他物。街上有三家商店，一家是待租的，另外一家是门前尘灰飞扬的通宵饭店，最后一家是一个修车厂。乔治•B. 威尔森。买卖汽车——我跟着汤姆走了进去。
The interior was unprosperous and bare; the only car visible was the dust—covered wreck of a Ford which crouched in a dim corner. It had occurred to me that this shadow of a garage must be a blind and that sumptuous and romantic apartments were concealed overhead when the proprietor himself appeared in the door of an office, wiping his hands on a piece of waste. He was a blonde, spiritless man, anaemic, and faintly handsome. When he saw us a damp gleam of hope sprang into his light blue eyes.
里面空空的没什么生意，只能看见一辆灰尘覆盖着的破旧不堪的福特，停在一个阴暗角落。我突然觉得这个名不副实的修车厂一定是一种掩饰，上面一定还隐藏着一座奢华浪漫的别墅。这时，老板出现在办公处的门口，用一张废纸擦着双手。那个男的满头黄发，无精打采，脸上气色不好，但长相还可以。他一看到我们，淡蓝色的眼睛便掠过一丝暗淡的希望。
"Hello, Wilson, old man, 'said Tom, slapping him jovially on the shoulder. " How's business?
“嘿，威尔森，老兄。” 汤姆边说边高兴地拍着他的肩膀， “生意还好吧？”
"I can't complain, " answered Wilson unconvincingly. "When are you going to sell me that car? "
“一般啦。” 威尔森有点没底气地说道， “你打算什么时候把那辆车卖给我啊？”
"Next week; I" ve got my man working on it now. "
“下周吧，我已经找了人正在修理呢。”
"Works pretty slow, doesn't he? "
“那他干活够慢的，是吧？”
"No, he doesn't, 'said Tom coldly. " And if you feel that way about it, maybe Id better sell it somewhere else after all.
“不啊，他不慢。” 汤姆冷淡地说道， “如果你觉得慢的话，也许我只好到别的地方去卖了。”
"I don't mean that, " explained Wilson quickly. "I just meant—"
“我并不是那个意思，” 威尔森赶快解释说， “我只是说……”
His voice faded off and Tom glanced impatiently around the garage. Then I heard footsteps on a stairs and in a moment the thickish figure of a woman blocked out the light from the office door. She was in the middle thirties, and faintly stout, but she carried her surplus flesh sensuously as some women can. Her face, above a spotted dress of dark blue crepe—de—chine, contained no facet or gleam of beauty but there was an immediately perceptible vitality about her as if the nerves of her body were continually smouldering. She smiled slowly and walking through her husband as if he were a ghost shook hands with Tom, looking him flush in the eye. Then she wet her lips and without turning around spoke to her husband in a soft, coarse voice:
他的声音渐渐低了下去，而汤姆不耐烦地朝修车厂四周打望。随后我听到楼梯上响起了脚步声。过了一会儿，一个女人臃肿的身体将办公室门口的光线挡住了。她三十多岁，身材微胖，却像其他女人一样挑逗地将身子挺得直直的，看上去很美。她穿着一件带有污渍的深蓝色双绉连衣裙，脸庞并不滑嫩也不娇美，却散发着一种明显的活力，似乎她身上的每一处神经都在不停地燃烧。她慢慢微笑着，从她丈夫的身边走过，仿佛她的丈夫并不存在。她走到汤姆跟前同他握了握手，双眼直直地盯着他。然后她润了润嘴唇，头也不回便低声粗气地对她丈夫说：
"Get some chairs, why don't you, so somebody can sit down. "
“拿两把椅子过来，让客人坐下啊。”
"Oh, sure, " agreed Wilson hurriedly and went toward the little office, mingling immediately with the cement color of the walls. A white ashen dust veiled his dark suit and his pale hair as it veiled everything in the vicinity—except his wife, who moved close to Tom.
“哦，对。” 威尔森赶忙答应着走向那间小办公室，他的背影瞬间在水泥色的墙壁中消失。白灰色的尘埃遮掩了他深色的西装，遮掩了他银灰的头发，遮掩了附近的一切一切——除了那位走向汤姆的他的妻子。
"I want to see you, 'said Tom intently. " Get on the next train.
“我很想见你。” 汤姆热切地说， “坐下班火车走吧。”
"All right. "
“好的。”
"I" ll meet you by the news—stand on the lower level. "
“我们在车站下面的报刊摊旁见面。”
She nodded and moved away from him just as George Wilson emerged with two chairs from his office door.
她点了点头就转身回去了，这时乔治•威尔森拿着两把椅子正从办公室走出来。
We waited for her down the road and out of sight. It was a few days before the Fourth of July, and a grey, scrawny Italian child was setting torpedoes in a row along the railroad track.
我们在公路边上一个僻静的地方等她。距离七月四日还有几天，于是看见一个满身灰尘、瘦骨嶙峋的意大利小孩在沿着铁路轨道放了一排信号雷管。
"Terrible place, isn't it, 'said Tom, exchanging a frown with Doctor Eckleburg. " Awful.
“这个地方真可怕，是吧。” 汤姆边说边皱着眉头与埃克尔堡大夫对视着。 “糟糕透顶。”
"It does her good to get away. " "Doesn't her husband object? "
“离开这儿对她还好一点。” “他丈夫不反对吗？”
"Wilson? He thinks she goes to see her sister in New York. He's so dumb he doesn't know he's alive. "
“威尔森吗？他认为她要去纽约看望妹妹。他极其愚钝，连自己的存活都感觉不到。”
So Tom Buchanan and his girl and I went up together to New York—or not quite together, for Mrs. Wilson sat discreetly in another car. Tom deferred that much to the sensibilities of those East Eggers who might be on the train.
就这样汤姆•布坎南和他的情妇还有我一起同行去纽约——或者说并不是同行，因为威尔森夫人为谨慎起见坐到了另外一个车厢。汤姆对此让步妥协，也是避免火车上有一些极其敏感的东卵人有所察觉。
She had changed her dress to a brown figured muslin which stretched tight over her rather wide hips as Tom helped her to the platform in New York. At the news—stand she bought a copy of "Town Tattle" and a moving—picture magazine and, in the station drug store, some cold cream and a small flask of perfume. Upstairs, in the solemn echoing drive she let four taxi cabs drive away before she selected a new one, lavender—colored with grey upholstery, and in this we slid out from the mass of the station into the glowing sunshine. But immediately she turned sharply from the window and leaning forward tapped on the front glass.
她换穿了一件带花的棕色棉布连衣裙，当汤姆在纽约站将她扶下车的时候，只见她的裙子紧紧地绷在了她那肥大的臀部上。在一个报摊上，她买了一份《纽约闲话》和一份画报，在车站边上的药店里又买了一瓶冷霜和一小细瓶香水。在楼上那阴暗且有回音的车道上，她放走了四辆出租车，最后才等来一辆淡紫色且内置灰色坐垫的新车。乘着这辆车，我们挤出了拥挤的车站，看到了明媚的阳光。可是突然她转向车窗，然后将身体前倾敲打着前窗玻璃。
"I want to get one of those dogs, 'she said earnestly. " I want to get one for the apartment. Theyre nice to have—a dog.
“我想要一条那样的狗，” 她急切地说， “我想买一条养在公寓里。那些狗养起来感觉一定很好——一条狗。”
We backed up to a grey old man who bore an absurd resemblance to John D. Rockefeller. In a basket, swung from his neck, cowered a dozen very recent puppies of an indeterminate breed.
我们将车倒到一位满头银发的老人面前。很滑稽的是，那位老人长得非常像约翰•D. 洛克菲勒。他的脖子上晃荡着一个筐子，里面抖缩着十几只刚刚出生且品种不明的狗崽。
"What kind are they? " asked Mrs. Wilson eagerly as he came to the taxi—window.
“它们是什么品种的？” 老头刚走到出租车车窗旁，威尔森夫人便急切地问。
"All kinds. What kind do you want, lady? "
“什么品种都有。夫人，您想要什么品种的？”
"I" d like to get one of those police dogs; I don't suppose you got that kind? "The man peered doubtfully into the basket, plunged in his hand and drew one up, wriggling, by the back of the neck.
“我想买只警犬，我觉得你可能没有那个品种吧？” 老人半信半疑地朝筐里瞅瞅，掐住一只狗的脖子，晃晃悠悠地将其拽了出来。
"That's no police dog, 'said Tom.
“那根本不是警犬。” 汤姆说。
"No, it's not exactly a polICE dog, 'said the man with disappointment in his voice. " It's more of an airedale. He passed his hand over the brown wash—rag of a back. Look at that coat. Some coat. That's a dog thatll never bother you with catching cold.
“不是，这可能不是警犬。” 老人声音带着几分失落说道， “这多数是只艾尔达犬。” 他用手摸着狗背上毛巾般的棕色皮毛： “你看看这毛。多好的毛啊。你永远不用操心它会感冒。”
"I think it's cute, 'said Mrs. Wilson enthusiastically. " How much is it?
“我觉得它挺可爱的。” 威尔森夫人激动地说， “多少钱啊？”
"That dog? " He looked at it admiringly. "That dog will cost you ten dollars. "
“这只狗？” 他用爱慕的目光看了看狗， “这条狗卖十美元。”
The airedale—undoubtedly there was an airedale concerned in it somewhere though its feet were startlingly white—changed hands and settled down into Mrs. Wilson's lap, where she fondled the weather—proof coat with rapture.
这只艾尔达犬——虽然四个爪子是让人震惊的白色，毫无疑问还是带有艾尔达犬血统——威尔森夫人将它接过来放在大腿上，欣喜若狂地抚摸着它那结实的皮毛。
"Is it a boy or a girl? 'she asked delicately.
“是雄的还是雌的？” 她用轻柔的声音问道。
"That dog? That dog's a boy. "
“那狗吗？那是只雄狗。”
"It's a bitch, 'said Tom decisively. " Here's your money. Go and buy ten more dogs with it.
“那是只雌的。” 汤姆坚定地说， “给你钱。拿着再去买十只回来。”
We drove over to Fifth Avenue, so warm and soft, almost pastoral, on the summer Sunday afternoon that I wouldn't have been surprised to see a great flock of white sheep turn the corner.
我们乘车来到第五大道，那是夏日里一个温暖而舒适的周日下午，周围感觉像田园一般，所以即便在拐角处走出来一大群雪白的绵羊也不足为奇。
"Hold on, " I said, "I have to leave you here. "
“等一下，” 我说， “我得在这儿下车。”
"No, you don't, " interposed Tom quickly. "Myrtle" ll be hurt if you don't come up to the apartment. Won't you,
“不，你不能下。” 汤姆赶忙插嘴说， “你不来公寓看看，默特尔会不开心的。是不是啊，
Myrtle? "" Come on, 'she urged. Ill telephone my sister Catherine. She's said to be very beautiful by people who ought to know.
默特尔？” “来嘛。” 她恳求我说， “我给妹妹凯瑟琳打个电话，叫她也来。有眼光的人都夸她长得好看。”
"Well, I" d like to, but— "
“嗯，我很想去，可是……”
We went on, cutting back again over the Park toward the West Hundreds. At 158th Street the cab stopped at one slice in a long white cake of apartment houses. Throwing a regal homecoming glance around the neighborhood, Mrs. Wilson gathered up her dog and her other purchases and went haughtily in.
我们继续往前走，又绕回来穿过了公园，朝着城西一百多号街走去。车在一百五十八号街，一排白色的蛋糕状公寓其中的一栋前停了下来。威尔森夫人如同皇后回宫一般向四周扫视了一下，便抱起她的狗，拎着其他所购物品，趾高气昂地走了进去。
"I 'm going to have the McKees come up, ' she announced as we rose in the elevator. " And of course I got to call up my sister, too. "
“我要请麦基夫妇上来。” 她边上电梯边宣布道， “当然我还要打电话叫妹妹过来。”
The apartment was on the top floor—a small living room, a small dining room, a small bedroom and a bath. The living room was crowded to the doors with a set of tapestried furniture entirely too large for it so that to move about was to stumble continually over scenes of ladies swinging in the gardens of Versailles. The only picture was an over—enlarged photograph, apparently a hen sitting on a blurred rock. Looked at from a distance however the hen resolved itself into a bonnet and the countenance of a stout old lady beamed down into the room. Several old copies of "Town Tattle" lay on the table together with a copy of "Simon Called Peter" and some of the small scandal magazines of Broadway. Mrs. Wilson was first concerned with the dog. A reluctant elevator boy went for a box full of straw and some milk to which he added on his own initiative a tin of large hard dog biscuits—one of which decomposed apathetically in the saucer of milk all afternoon. Meanwhile Tom brought out a bottle of whiskey from a locked bureau door.
公寓在顶楼——一间小客厅、一间小饭厅、一间小卧室还有一个洗澡间。客厅里的一大套织锦家具一直摆到门口，整个客厅挤得满满的，走起来时不时地会被织有凡尔赛宫荡秋千侍女的布景绊倒。墙上唯一的画是一张特殊放大的照片，看上去像是一只母鸡蹲在一块有点模糊的石头上。但是从远处看，母鸡变成了一顶女帽，一个又矮又胖的老妇人眉开眼笑，俯视着屋子。桌上扔着几本过期的《纽约闲话》，还有一本《名字叫彼得的西门》，以及一些百老汇的八卦杂志。威尔森夫人先是关心她的小狗去了。一个电梯工极不情愿地跑去买了一个装满稻草的盒子和一些牛奶，还擅自做主买了一罐又硬又大的狗食饼干，其中一块饼干被放在牛奶碟里一下午泡地稀巴烂。这时，汤姆打开上锁的橱柜门，取出一瓶威士忌酒。
I have been drunk just twice in my life and the second time was that afternoon so everything that happened has a dim hazy cast over it although until after eight o "clock the apartment was full of cheerful sun. Sitting on Tom's lap Mrs. Wilson called up several people on the telephone; then there were no cigarettes and I went out to buy some at the drug store on the corner. When I came back they had disappeared so I sat down discreetly in the living room and read a chapter of" Simon Called Peter "—either it was terrible stuff or the whiskey distorted things because it didn't make any sense to me.
我平生只醉过两次，那天下午是我第二次喝醉，因此那天发生的一切都已经模模糊糊地记不清楚了，尽管那天公寓里直到八点以后还是阳光明媚。威尔森夫人坐在汤姆的大腿上给几个人打了电话。随后没香烟了，我就出去到街角的药店买香烟。我回来的时候，他们不见了，于是我就悄悄地坐在客厅读了一章《名字叫彼得的西门》——不知道是书写地太烂了，还是喝威士忌喝多了，我看了半天什么也没读懂。
Just as Tom and Myrtle—after the first drink Mrs. Wilson and I called each other by our first names—reappeared, company commenced to arrive at the apartment door.
汤姆和默特尔（喝完第一杯酒，威尔森夫人和我就以名字称呼对方了。）再次露面时，客人们就一个接着一个来到了公寓。
The sister, Catherine, was a slender, worldly girl of about thirty with a solid sticky bob of red hair and a complexion powdered milky white. Her eyebrows had been plucked and then drawn on again at a more rakish angle but the efforts of nature toward the restoration of the old alignment gave a blurred air to her face. When she moved about there was an incessant clicking as innumerable pottery bracelets jingled up and down upon her arms. She came in with such a proprietary haste and looked around so possessively at the furniture that I wondered if she lived here. But when I asked her she laughed immoderately, repeated my question aloud and told me she lived with a girl friend at a hotel.
她的妹妹凯瑟琳三十岁左右，身材苗条却长得十分俗气，一头浓密的红色短发，擦了粉的脸像牛奶一样白。她的眉毛是拔了之后又画了流线形的角，但是自然的那种恢复原貌的力量使她的脸显得有点眉目不清。她走动的时候，胳膊上一堆劣质玉镯上下晃动，叮叮当当地响个不停。她像主人似的大摇大摆地走了进来，环顾四周家具的眼神像是在看自己的东西一般，这倒让我怀疑她是否就住这里。但是当我问她的时候，她边重复我的问题边哈哈大笑，随后告诉我她和一个女性朋友住在一家旅店。
Mr. McKee was a pale feminine man from the flat below. He had just shaved for there was a white spot of lather on his cheekbone and he was most respectful in his greeting to everyone in the room. He informed me that he was in the "artistic game" and I gathered later that he was a photographer and had made the dim enlargement of Mrs. Wilson's mother which hovered like an ectoplasm on the wall. His wife was shrill, languid, handsome and horrible. She told me with pride that her husband had photographed her a hundred and twenty—seven times since they had been married.