ARoseforEmily

A Rose for Emily

I

When Miss Emily Grierson died, our whole town went to her funeral: the men through a sort of respectful affection for a fallen monument , the women mostly out of curiosity to see the inside of her house, which no one save an old man-servant—a combined gardener and cook—had seen in at least ten years. 爱米丽·格利尔逊小姐走了，全镇的人都去送葬：男人们是出于敬慕之情，因为一座丰碑倒塌了；女人们大多出于好奇之心，都想到爱米丽屋里看个究竟。除了一个园丁兼厨师的上了年纪的男仆外，至少已经十年都没有人进去看过了。

It was a big, squarish frame house that had once been white, decorated with cupolas and spires and scrolled balconies in the heavily lightsome style of the seventies, set on what had once been our most select street . But garages and cotton gins had encroached and obliterated even the august names of that neighborhood; only Miss Emily’s house was left, lifting its stubborn and coquettish decay above the cotton wagons and the gasoline pumps—an eyesore among eyesores. And now Miss Emily had gone to join the representatives of those august names where they lay in the cedar-bemused cemetery among the ranked and anonymous graves of Union and Confederate soldiers who fell at the battle of Jefferson . 那是一幢曾经漆成白色的方形大木屋，圆圆的顶阁，尖尖的塔顶，涡形花纹的阳台，尽显出浓浓的七十年代轻松愉快的风格。房屋所在的街道曾经是全镇最为繁华之地。但这里早已被附近的汽修厂和扎棉机侵占了，就连那些庄严的名字也被吞噬得一干二净；岿然不动的，只有爱米丽小姐的房子，虽有破败之势，却依然显得执拗不训，风韵犹存，与周围的四轮棉花车和汽油泵一样，太过碍眼了。如今爱米丽小姐也进入了那些具有代表性的庄严的名字行列之中，他们长眠在雪松环拥的墓地里，那是南北战争时期杰斐逊战役中阵亡的军人之墓，有的是南方军人，有的是北方士兵；有的是高职位，有的是无名氏。

Alive, Miss Emily had been a tradition, a duty, and a care; a sort of hereditary obligation upon the town, dating from that day in 1894 when Colonel Sartoris, the mayor—he who fathered the edict that no Negro woman should appear on the streets without an apron—remitted her taxes , the dispensation dating from the death of her father on into perpetuity. Not that Miss Emily would have accepted charity. Colonel Sartoris invented an involved tale to the effect that Miss Emily’s father had loaned money to the town, which the town, as a matter of business, preferred this way of repaying. Only a man of Colonel Sartoris’ generation and thought could have invented it, and only a woman could have believed it. 生前，爱米丽小姐代表着一个传统、一种职责；她既是人们关注的目标，也是全镇传承下来对她应尽的义务，这种义务是从一八九四年开始的，当时的镇长萨特里斯上校——还颁布了一道命令：严禁黑人妇女不系围裙上街——豁免了她各种税款；这种特惠政策从她父亲去世之日开始，一直到她不在人世之时为止。这并不是说爱米丽爱占人们的便宜，而是萨特里斯上校编造了一套不清不楚的瞎话，说什么爱米丽的父亲曾贷款给镇政府，而镇政府，作为交易，以这种方式偿还。这种瞎话，只有萨特里斯上校那一代人以及像他那样的脑袋的人才瞎编的出来，也只有女人们才会相信这种瞎话。

When the next generation, with its more modern ideas, became mayors and aldermen , this

arrangement created some little dissatisfaction. On the first of the year they mailed her a tax notice. February came, and there was no reply. They wrote her a formal letter, asking her to call at the sheriff’s office at her convenience. A week later the mayor wrote her himself, offering to call or to send his car for her, and received in reply a note on paper of an archaic shape, in a thin, flowing calligraphy in faded ink, to the effect that she no longer went out at all. The tax notice was also enclosed, without comment. 到了第二代人，他们当上了镇长和议员，思想更加前卫，便对这种免税约定产生了一丝不满。那年元旦，他们寄给她一张纳税通知单，可是到了二月，依然没有回信。他们给她发了一封公函，要她方便时到镇治安办公室去一趟。一周后，镇长亲自书函一封给她，表示愿意登门拜访，或派车接她；镇长得到的回信却是一张便条，字是写在一张古香古色的信笺上，书法流利，字迹纤细，墨迹已干，大意是说，她根本不再外出。随信附还的还有纳税通知单，但不见任何评述。

They called a special meeting of the Board of Aldermen. A deputation waited upon her, knocked at the door through which no visitor had passed since she ceased giving china-painting lessons eight or ten years earlier. They were admitted by the old Negro into a dim hall from which a stairway mounted into still more shadow. It smelled of dust and disuse—a close, dank smell. The Negro led them into the parlor. It was furnished in heavy, leather-covered furniture. When the Negro opened the blinds of one window, they could see that the leather was cracked; and when they sat down, a faint dust rose sluggishly about their thighs, spinning with slow motes in the single sun-ray. On a tarnished gilt easel before the fireplace stood a crayon portrait of Miss Emily’s father. 镇政府官员们召开了一个由全镇参议员参加的特别会议，派了一个代表团拜访爱米丽。他们敲了敲门。这扇门自从八年或十年前爱米丽停授瓷器彩绘课以来，谁都没有从这里进出过。接待他们的是那个黑人男仆，他们来到阴暗的门厅，再沿楼梯而上，光线变得更加阴暗了。屋子里发出一股尘封的气味，阴冷潮湿，密不透气，这里长久没有人住了。黑人领着他们来到客厅，客厅里陈设着笨重、包着皮套的家具。黑人打开一扇百叶窗，只见皮套子已经开裂了；他们坐了下来，大腿两边，顿时尘粒飞扬，在百叶窗射进的一缕阳光中，缓缓旋转着。壁炉前是一张早已失去了昔日的光泽的画架；画架上屹立着爱米丽父亲的炭笔画像。

They rose when she entered—a small, fat woman in black, with a thin gold chain descending to her waist and vanishing into her belt, leaning on an ebony cane with a tarnished gold head. Her skeleton was small and spare ; perhaps that was why what would have been merely plumpness in another was obesity in her. She looked bloated, like a body long submerged in motionless water, and of that pallid hue. Her eyes, lost in the fatty ridges of her face, looked like two small pieces of coal pressed into a lump of dough as they moved from one face to another while the visitors stated their errand . 代表团成员站了起来，原来进来一个人——一个身材矮小，但腰圆体胖的女人，她身着黑衫，细长的金链直垂腰部，最后插入腰带里；她撑在乌木拐杖上，杖头镶金早已失去了昔日的光泽。她骨架又矮又小，也许正因如此，要是落在别的女人身上，那种胖就是丰满，而落在她身上，就显得臃肿。她看上去肿胀发白，就好像长期浸泡在死水中的死尸一般。当客人说明来意时，她的那两只眼睛不停地转悠着，一会儿瞧瞧这张面孔，一会儿看看那张脸蛋，那眼睛啊，都深陷在满脸隆起的赘肉里了，就像掐在生面团中的两个小煤球。