《人间失格》英文版开篇 (太宰治)

Mine has been a life of much shame.

回首前尘，我的人生充满了惭耻的记忆。

I can't even guess myself what it must be to live the life of a human being. I was born in a village in the Northeast, and it wasn't until I was quite big that I saw my first train. I climbed up and down the station bridge, quite unaware that its function was to permit people to cross from one track to another. I was convinced that the bridge had been provided to lend an exotic touch and to make the station premises a place of pleasant diversity, like some foreign playground. I remained under this delusion for quite a long time, and it was for me a very refined amusement indeed to climb up and down the bridge. I thought that it was one of the most elegant services provided by the railways. When later I discovered that the bridge was nothing more than a utilitarian device, I lost all interest in it.

对我而言，究竟应该拥有怎样的人生，我完全参悟不透。我出生于东北的乡下，直到长大之后，才第一次见到火车。我上上下下于火车站的天桥，完全没有觉察这是供人跨越铁轨所建，还以为只是为了让车站能够像外国的游乐场一样充满妙趣而又显得新潮，才打造成这般模样的。并且有很长一段时间，我对此都深信不疑。在天桥爬上爬下，是我最热衷的游戏，我觉得它是铁路公司各项服务中最让我中意的。当日后我发现那不过是一种为方便旅客跨越铁轨而架设的实用楼梯而已，不由得大觉扫兴。

Again, when as a child I saw photographs of subway trains in picture books, it never occurred to me that they had been invented out of practical necessity; I could only suppose that riding underground instead of on the surface must be a novel and delightful pastime.

此外，我小时候在画本上见过所谓的地铁，也没有意识到那是出于实用性而想出来的设计，还天真地以为在地下乘坐火车别有一番风趣，比在地面上坐车更加好玩。

I have been sickly ever since I was a child and have frequently been confined to bed. How often as I lay there I used to think what uninspired decorations sheets and pillow cases make. It wasn't until I was about twenty that I realized that they actually served a practical purpose, and this revelation of human dullness stirred dark depression in me.

我从小体弱多病，时常卧床不起。躺在床上，总是心想床单啦、枕头套啦、被套等等全是些无聊的装饰品，直到年近二十，才突然发现这些竟然都是生活实用品，不禁心中黯然，为人生之贫乏而暗自窃悲。

Again, I have never known what it means to be hungry. I don't mean by this statement that I was raised in a well-to-do family—I have no such banal intent. I mean that I have had not the remotest idea of the nature of the sensation of "hunger." It sounds peculiar to say it, but I have never been aware that my stomach was empty. When as a boy I returned home from school the people at home would make a great fuss over me. "You must be hungry. We remember what it's like, how terribly hungry you feel by the time you get home from school. How about some jelly beans? There's cake and biscuits too." Seeking to please, as I invariably did, I would mumble that I was hungry, and stuff a dozen jelly beans in my mouth, but what they meant by feeling hungry completely escaped me.

还有，我不懂得什么叫饿。这倒并不是炫耀我生长于一个衣食无忧的富庶家庭——我还不至于无聊愚蠢至此，我真的不知道“饥肠辘辘”是种什么样的感受。这话听起来奇怪，可我就算肚子里空空如也，也不知不觉，没有任何异样感觉。小学、初中的时候，每次放学回到家，周围人总会七嘴八舌地围上来说：“喂，肚子饿了吧？我们小时候也一样的呀，放学回家时肚子饿得特别厉害哪！来点甜纳豆怎么样？还有蛋糕和面包哦。”而我也充分发挥出天生的喜欢讨好人的精神，嘴里说着 “肚子饿了”，顺手将十几颗甜纳豆送进嘴里，实际上压根儿没有体会到肚子饿的滋味。

Of course I do eat a great deal all the same, but I have almost no recollection of ever having done so out of hunger. Unusual or extravagant things tempt me, and when I go to the house of somebody else I eat almost everything put before me, even if it takes some effort. As a child the most painful part of the day was unquestionably mealtime, especially in my own home.

我吃起东西来食量不小，但几乎从来都不是因为肚子饿而吃。我吃人们印象中的珍馐，吃常人眼里的豪华大餐，还有到外面用餐时，端上来什么我吃什么，一直吃到撑不下去为止。儿时的我，最痛苦的时刻，其实是家里的用餐时刻。

At my house in the country the whole family—we were about ten in number—ate together, lined up in two facing rows at table. Being the youngest child I naturally sat at the end. The dining room was dark, and the sight of the ten or more members of the household eating their lunch, or whatever the meal was, in gloomy silence was enough to send chills through me. Besides, this was an old-fashioned country household where the food was more or less prescribed, and it was useless even to hope for unusual or extravagant dishes. I dreaded mealtime more each day. I would sit there at the end of the table in the dimly lit room and, trembling all over as with the cold, I would lift a few morsels of food to my mouth and push them in. "Why must human beings eat three meals every single day? What extraordinarily solemn faces they all make as they eat! It seems to be some kind of ritual. Three times every day at the regulated hour the family gathers in this gloomy room. The places are all laid out in the proper order and, regardless of whether we're hungry or not, we munch our food in silence, with lowered eyes. Who knows? It may be an act of prayer to propitiate whatever spirits may be lurking around the house. . . ." At times I went so far as to think in such terms.

在我乡下的老家，每到用餐时间，全家十几口人全数到齐，面对面相向坐成两排，围着桌上丰盛的饭菜，身为家中老幺的我，自然只能坐末座。吃饭间里光线暗淡，吃午饭时，十几个人全都默默不语，专心一意地扒着饭，那光景我回想起来总是顿生寒意。我家属于乡下那种古板守旧家庭，菜色几乎一成不变，别指望会出现什么珍馐或是豪华大餐，所以我愈加对这一刻感觉恐惧。我坐在昏暗屋子的末座，因寒冷而浑身打战，一点一点将饭送至嘴边，塞入口中，心中却在暗暗思忖——人为什么非得每日三餐不可呢？有时我甚至想：用餐时每个人都一脸严肃，宛如某种仪式，全家人每天三次准时聚在昏暗的屋子里，秩序井然地摆好饭菜，即使毫无食欲也必须低头默默地嚼着饭菜，这或许是在向隐伏在家中的亡灵们祈祷吧？