衛星上的夜
地道英文
作者：by T. Coraghessan Boyle
T·克拉格森·博伊爾（T. Coraghessan Boyle），出生於1948年，在位於紐約東南部的皮克斯基爾市長大；1968年，獲得紐約州立大學波茨坦分校的曆史學士學位；1974年和1977年，獲得艾奧瓦大學作家工坊的藝術學碩士及博士學位。自20世紀70年代以來，他出版了14部長篇小說和100多部短篇小說。博伊爾一生攬獲眾多獎項，其中最值得一提的便是1988年憑借長篇小說《世界的盡頭》斬獲福克納獎，小說回顧了紐約市近300年來的曆史。博伊爾有大半的作品都在探究嬰兒潮時代的美國，當時的美國社會風氣偏向於個人價值的體現和個人幸福的實現，因此他們身上有著不同程度的不負責任、冷漠和物質主義等特點。於是，博伊爾的作品中往往都會有一個努力而徒勞的男主人公和一個被讚揚的反英雄式人物，文風夾雜著犀利的諷刺、幽默和現實主義。
本篇《衛星上的夜》，故事借由公路上的一個偶發事件展開，從而引出了每個人物的性格特點：多一事不如少一事的男主人公，感性善良又強勢的女主人公，公路上求助的公主病小姐，極其吊兒郎當的事件始作俑者……作者曾在與讀者的交流中說，這部短篇小說其實是在講述建立和維持一段和諧戀愛關係的艱難，其實小說開頭公路上的偶發事件就是對男女主人公之間關係危機的影射。幸福的背後本就是一個血池煉獄，此話當真不假，不然已經步入“夕陽紅”之列的博伊爾也不會仍覺得維係之道不易。有何不易？大家一起來文章中感受吧……
What we were arguing about that night—and it was late， very late， 3：10 A.M. by my watch—was something that had happened nearly twelve hours earlier. A small thing， really， but by this time it had grown out of all proportion and poisoned everything we said， as if we didn’t have enough problems already. Mallory was relentless. And I was feeling defensive and maybe more than a little 1）paranoid. We were both drunk. I could smell the nighttime stink of the river. I looked up and watched the sky expand overhead and then shrink down to fit me like a safety helmet. A truck went blatting by on the interstate， and then it was silent， but for the mosquitoes singing their blood song， while the rest of the insect world screeched either in protest or accord. I couldn’t tell which， thrumming and thrumming， until the night felt as if it were going to burst open and leave us shattered in the grass. “You asshole，” she snarled. “You’re the asshole，” I said. “I hate you.” “2）Ditto，” I said. “Ditto and square it.”
The new day had begun peaceably enough， a Saturday， the two of us curled up and 3）sleeping late， the shades drawn and the air-conditioner doing its job. If it hadn’t been for the dog， we might have slept right on into the afternoon， because we’d been up late the night before， at a club called Gabe’s， where we’d danced， with the assistance of well rum and two little white pills Mallory’s friend Mona had given her， until we sweated through our clothes， and the muscles of our 4）calves—my calves， anyway—felt as if they’d been surgically removed， and sewn back in place. But the dog， Nome—a husky， one blue eye， one brown—kept laying the wedge of his head on my side of the bed and emitting a series of insistent whines， because his 5）bladder was bursting and it was high time for his morning run. My eyes flashed open， and， despite the dog’s needs and the first stirrings of a headache， I got up with a feeling that the world was a hospitable place. After using the toilet and splashing some water on my face， I found my shorts on the floor where I’d left them， unfurled the dog’s leash， and took him out the door. The sun was high. After the dog evacuated， I led him down to the corner store， picked up a copy of the newspaper and two coffees to go. Mallory was sitting up waiting for me， still in her nightgown but with her glasses on. She stretched and smiled when I came through the door and murmured something that might have been “Good morning”. I handed her a coffee and the Life section of the newspaper. Time slowed. For the next hour there were no sounds but for a rustle of newsprint and the gentle soughing suck of hot liquid through a small plastic 6）aperture.
The plan was to drive out to the farmhouse our friends Chris and Anneliese Wright were renting from the farmer himself and laze away the hours sipping wine. After that， we’d 7）play it by ear. If Chris and Anneliese didn’t have anything else in mind， I was thinking of persuading them to join us at the vegetarian place in town for the falafel plate， and then maybe hit a movie or head back over to Gabe’s until the night melted away. Fine. Perfect. Exactly what you wanted most from a midsummer’s day in the Midwest， after the summer session had ended and you’d put away your books for the three-week 8）respite before the fall semester started up. We didn’t have jobs， not in any real sense—jobs were a myth， a rumor—so we held on in grad school， semester after semester， for lack of anything better to do. We got financial aid， of course， and 9）accrued debt on our student loans. Our car， a hand-me-down from Mallory’s mother， needed tires and probably everything else into the bargain. Sometimes we felt as if we were actually getting somewhere， but the truth was， like most people， we were just marking time.