白噪音(White Noise) (英文版)作者:唐·德里罗(Don DeLillo)-第6部分

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　　I'd　made　several　attempts　to　learn　German；　serious　probes　into　origins；　structures；　roots。　I　sensed　the　deathly　power　of　the　language。　I　wanted　to　speak　it　well；　use　it　as　a　charm；　a　protective　device。　The　more　I　shrank　from　learning　actual　words；　rules　and　pronunciation；　the　more　important　it　seemed　that　I　go　forward。　What　we　are　reluctant　to　touch　often　seems　the　very　fabric　of　our　salvation。　But　the　basic　sounds　defeated　me；　the　harsh　spurting　northernness　of　the　words　and　syllables；　the　mand　delivery。　Something　happened　between　the　back　of　my　tongue　and　the　roof　of　my　mouth　that　made　a　mockery　of　my　attempts　to　sound　German　words。
　　I　was　determined　to　try　again。
　　Because　I'd　achieved　high　professional　standing；　because　my　lectures　were　well　attended　and　my　articles　printed　in　the　major　journals；　because　I　wore　an　academic　gown　and　dark　glasses　day　and　night　whenever　I　was　on　campus；　because　I　carried　two　hundred　and　thirty　pounds　on　a　six…foot　three…inch　frame　and　had　big　hands　and　feet；　I　knew　my　German　lessons　would　have　to　be　secret。
　　I　contacted　a　man　not　affiliated　with　the　college；　someone　Murray　Jay　Siskind　had　told　me　about。　They　were　fellow　boarders　in　the　green…shingled　house　on　Middlebrook。　The　man　was　in　his　fifties；　a　slight　shuffle　in　his　walk。　He　had　thinning　hair；　a　bland　face　and　wore　his　shirtsleeves　rolled　up　to　his　forearms；　revealing　thermal　underwear　beneath。
　　His　plexion　was　of　a　tone　I　want　to　call　flesh…colored。　Howard　Dunlop　was　his　name。　He　said　he　was　a　former　chiropractor　but　didn't　offer　a　reason　why　he　was　no　longer　active　and　didn't　say　when　he'd　learned　German；　or　why；　and　something　in　his　manner　kept　me　from　asking。
　　We　sat　in　his　dark　crowded　room　at　the　boarding　house。　An　ironing　board　stood　unfolded　at　the　window。　There　were　chipped　enamel　pots；　trays　of　utensils　set　on　a　dresser。　The　furniture　was　vague；　foundling。　At　the　borders　of　the　room　were　the　elemental　things。　An　exposed　radiator；　an　army…blanketed　cot。　Dunlop　sat　at　the　edge　of　a　straight　chair；　intoning　generalities　of　grammar。　When　he　switched　from　English　to　German；　it　was　as　though　a　cord　had　been　twisted　in　his　larynx。　An　abrupt　emotion　entered　his　voice；　a　scrape　and　gargle　that　sounded　like　the　stirring　of　some　beast's　ambition。　He　gaped　at　me　and　gestured；　he　croaked；　he　verged　on　strangulation。　Sounds　came　spewing　from　the　base　of　his　tongue；　harsh　noises　damp　with　passion。　He　was　only　demonstrating　certain　basic　pronunciation　patterns　but　the　transformation　in　his　face　and　voice　made　me　think　he　was　making　a　passage　between　levels　of　being。
　　I　sat　there　taking　notes。
　　The　hour　went　quickly。　Dunlop　managed　a　scant　shrug　when　I　asked　him　not　to　discuss　the　lessons　with　anyone。　It　occurred　to　me　that　he　was　the　man　Murray　had　described　in　his　summary　of　fellow　boarders　as　the　one　who　never　es　out　of　his　room。
　　I　stopped　at　Murray's　room　and　asked　him　to　e　home　with　me　for　dinner。　He　put　down　his　copy　of　American　Transvestite　and　slipped　into　his　corduroy　jacket。　We　stopped　on　the　porch　long　enough　for　Murray　to　tell　the　landlord；　who　was　sitting　there；　about　a　dripping　faucet　in　the　second…floor　bathroom。　The　landlord　was　a　large　florid　man　of　such　robust　and　bursting　health　that　he　seemed　to　be　having　a　heart　attack　even　as　we　looked　on。
　　〃He'll　get　around　to　fixing　it；〃　Murray　said；　as　we　set　out　on　foot　in　the　direction　of　Elm。　〃He　fixes　everything　eventually。　He's　very　good　with　all　those　little　tools　and　fixtures　and　devices　that　people　in　cities　never　know　the　names　of。　The　names　of　these　things　are　only　known　in　outlying　munities；　small　towns　and　rural　areas。　Too　bad　he's　such　a　bigot。〃
　　〃How　do　you　know　he's　a　bigot？〃
　　〃People　who　can　fix　things　are　usually　bigots。〃
　　〃What　do　you　mean？〃
　　'Think　of　all　the　people　who've　ever　e　to　your　house　to　fix　things。　They　were　all　bigots；　weren't　they？〃
　　〃I　don't　know。〃
　　〃They　drove　panel　trucks；　didn't　they；　with　an　extension　ladder　on　the　roof　and　some　kind　of　plastic　charm　dangling　from　the　rearview　mirror？〃
　　〃I　don't　know；　Murray。〃
　　〃It's　obvious；〃　he　said。
　　He　asked　me　why　I'd　chosen　this　year　in　particular　to　learn　German；　after　so　many　years　of　slipping　past　the　radar。　I　told　him　there　was　a　Hitler　conference　scheduled　for　next　spring　at　the　College…on…the…Hill。　Three　days　of　lectures；　workshops　and　panels。　Hitler　scholars　from　seventeen　states　and　nine　foreign　countries。　Actual　Germans　would　be　in　attendance。
　　At　home　Denise　placed　a　moist　bag　of　garbage　in　the　kitchen　pactor。　She　started　up　the　machine。　The　ram　stroked　downward　with　a　dreadful　wrenching　sound；　full　of　eerie　feeling。　Children　walked　in　and　out　of　the　kitchen；　water　dripped　in　the　sink；　the　washing　machine　heaved　in　the　entranceway。　Murray　seemed　engrossed　in　the　incidental　mesh。　Whining　metal；　exploding　bottles；　plastic　smashed　flat。　Denise　listened　carefully；　making　sure　the　mangling　din　contained　the　correct　sonic　elements；　which　meant　the　machine　was　operating　properly。
　　Heinrich　said　to　someone　on　the　phone；　〃Animals　mit　incest　all　the　time。　So　how　unnatural　can　it　be？〃
　　Babette　came　in　from　running；　her　outfit　soaked　through。　Murray　walked　across　the　kitchen　to　shake　her　hand。　She　fell　into　a　chair；　scanned　the　room　for　Wilder。　I　watched　Denise　make　a　mental　parison　between　her　mother's　running　clothes　and　the　wet　bag　she'd　dumped　in　the　pactor。　I　could　see　it　in　her　eyes；　a　sardonic　connection。　It　was　these　secondary　levels　of　life；　these　extrasensory　flashes　and　floating　nuances　of　being；　these　pockets　of　rapport　forming　unexpectedly；　that　made　me　believe　we　were　a　magic　act；　adults　and　children　together；　sharing　unaccountable　things。
　　〃We　have　to　boil　our　water；〃　Steffie　said。
　　〃Why？〃
　　〃It　said　on　the　radio。〃
　　〃They're　always　saying　boil　your　water；〃　Babette　said。　〃It's　the　new　thing；　like　turn　your　wheel　in　the　direction　of　the　skid。　Here　es　Wilder　now。　I　guess　we　can　eat。〃
　　The　small　child　moved　in　a　swaying　gait；　great　head　wagging；　and　his　mother　made　faces　of　delight；　happy　and　outlandish　masks；　watching　him　approach。
　　〃Neutrinos　go　right　through　the　earth；〃　Heinrich　said　into　the　telephone。
　　〃Yes　yes　yes；〃　said　Babette。
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　　They　had　to　evacuate　the　grade　school　on　Tuesday。　Kids　were　getting　headaches　and　eye　irritations；　tasting　metal　in　their　mouths。　A　teacher　rolled　on　the　floor　and　spoke　foreign　languages。　No　one　knew　what　was　wrong。　Investigators　said　it　could　be　the　ventilating　system；　the　paint　or　varnish；　the　foam　insulation；　the　electrical　insulation；　the　cafeteria　food；　the　rays　emitted　by　microputers；　the　asbestos　fireproofing；　the　adhesive　on　shipping　containers；　the　fumes　from　the　chlorinated　pool；　or　perhaps　something　deeper；　finer…grained；　more　closely　woven　into　the　basic　state　of　things。
　　Denise　and　Steffie　stayed　home　that　week　as　men　in　Mylex　suits　and　respirator　masks　made　systematic　sweeps　of　the　building　with　infrared　detecting　and　measuring　equipment。　Because　Mylex　is　itself　a　suspect　material；　the　results　tended　to　be　ambiguous　and　a　second　round　of　more　rigorous　detection　had　to　be　scheduled。
　　The　two　girls　and　Babette；　Wilder　and　I　went　to　the　supermarket。　Minutes　after　we　entered；　we　ran　into　Murray。　This　was　the　fourth　or　fifth　time　I'd　seen　him　in　the　supermarket；　which　was　roughly　the　number　of　times　I'd　seen　him　on　campus。　He　clutched　Babette　by　the　left　bicep　and　sidled　around　her；　appearing　to　smell　her　hair。
　　〃A　lovely　dinner；〃　he　said；　standing　directly　behind　her。　〃I　like　to　cook　myself；　which　doubles　my　appreciation　of　someone　who　does　it　well。〃
　　〃e　any　time；〃　she　said；　turning　in　an　effort　to　find　him。
　　We　moved　together　into　the　ultra…cool　interior。　Wilder　sat　in　the　shopping　cart　trying　to　grab　items　off　the　shelves　as　we　went　by。　It　occurred　to　me　that　he　was　too　old　and　too　big　to　be　sitting　in　supermarket　carts。　I　also　wondered　why　his　vocabulary　seemed　to　be　stalled　at　twenty…five　words。
　　〃I'm　happy　to　be　here；〃　Murray　said。
　　〃In　Blacksmith？〃
　　〃In　Blacksmith；　in　the　supermarket；　in　the　rooming　house；　on　the　Hill。　I　feel　I'm　learning　important　things　every　day。　Death；　disease；　afterlife；　outer　space。　It's　all　much　clearer　here。　I　can　think　and　see。〃
　　We　moved　into　the　generic　food　area　and　Murray　paused　with　his　plastic　basket　to　probe　among　the　white　cartons　and　jars。　I　wasn't　sure　I　understood　what　he　was　talking　about。　What　did　he　mean；　much　clearer？　He　could　think　and　see　what？
　　Steffie　took　my　hand　and　we　walked　past　the　fruit　bins；　an　area　that　extended　about　forty…five　yards　along　one　wall。　The　bins　were　arranged　diagonally　and　backed　by　mirrors　that　people　accidentally　punched　when　reaching　for　fruit　in　the　upper　rows。　A　voice　on　the　loudspeaker　said：　〃Kleenex　Softique；　your　truck's　blocking　the　entrance。〃　Apples　and　lemons　tumbled　in　twos　and　threes　to　the　floor　when　someone　took　a　fruit　from　certain　places　in　the　stacked　array。　There　were　six　kinds　of　apples；　there　were　exotic　melons　in　several　pastels。　Everything　seemed　to　be　in　season；　sprayed；　burnished；　bright。　People　tore　filmy　bags　off　racks　and　tried　to　figure　out　which　end　opened。　I　realized　the　place　was　awash　in　noise。　The　toneless　systems；　the　jangle　and　skid　of　carts；　the　loudspeaker　and　coffee…making　machines；　the　cries　of　children。　And　over　it　all；　or　under　it　all；　a　dull　and　unlocatable　roar；　as　of　some　form　of　swarming　life　just　outside　the　range　of　human　apprehension。
　　〃Did　you　tell　Denise　you　were　sorry？〃
　　〃Maybe　later；〃　Steffie　said。　〃Remind　me。〃
　　〃She's　a　sweet　girl　and　she　wants　to　be　your　older　sister　and　your　friend　if　you'll　let　her。〃
　　〃I　don't　know　about　friend。　She's　a　little　bossy；　don't　you　think？〃
　　〃Aside　from　telling　her　you're　sorry；　be　sure　to　give　her　back　her　Physicians'　Desk　Reference。〃
　　〃She　reads　that　thing　all　the　time。　Don't　you　think　that's　weird？〃
　　〃At　least　she　reads　something。〃
　　〃Sure；　lists　of　drugs　and　medicines。　And　do　you　want　to　know　why？〃
　　〃Why？〃
　　〃Because　she's　trying　to　find　out　the　side　effects　of　the　stuff　that　Baba　uses。〃
　　〃What　does　Baba　use？〃
　　〃Don't　ask　me。　Ask　Denise。〃
　　〃How　do　you　know　she　uses　anything？〃
　　〃Ask　Denise。〃
　　〃W