Small Town《我要让你知道,我感到被你辜负了,我相信你的很多同胞也有这种感觉

小圈子里哥几个聊到老萝卜，都说他的书越来越不好看了。这里边其实有两个冷酷得大家都不忍心提的缘故：

1、他老了。

2、鬼。

所谓老，不是说倚老卖老的讨人嫌；也不是久病床前无孝子的老弱；更不是文思枯竭霸着茅坑不作为滴祸害……简单来说，我以为的老，其实是守成地安于现状，富家翁逢年过节给贴心的佃户打打牙祭而已。Block早年饿肚子时的锐意进取，成长期的奋发图强，成熟期的厚积薄发；如今都再难看到，只剩下今天天气哈哈哈的“中庸”了。

至于“鬼”，则是个一般读者忽视，其实业内人士避而不谈的常态。无非功成名就滴各色字匠不免精力有限，为了谋生还得时时吆喝应酬，少不得要雇几个小跟班ghostwrite帮写点豆腐块文章应付催稿。甚至给出个大致思路结构就丢到血汗工厂里慢慢堆字成长篇的也大有人在——毕竟对外界避而不见还能书卖得节节高；靠封信就能把萝莉勾上门主动献身的特异品种不具备可复制性嘛。

以至于我们对心仪的作家是又爱又恨。高精尖的产量过少，拿到一本翻开看个开头都要让人犹豫再三，看一本少一本固然是其中顾忌，其实最怕的是作家的任性文字与初见不一……。产量高的固然可喜，但对其中带鬼气的水分不免心怀惴惴。到哪都能看见年老色衰的匠人们在外不忘打肿脸充胖子地卖弄年富力强；其实暗地里早早变换身份做起鸨母靠花舫赚钱了……。

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这本小城算是我手头有的Block不成系列的作品里比较后期的水准之作了。据说算是写得比较用心水份极少的，但是拿来跟他各成名系列里的巅峰之作比，差距真不是一点两点。虽说不至于被各色后浪活活拍死在沙滩上，但也只能算是他光做嘉宾不再拿奖后的黄昏期余晕咯。如果说由于各系列人物早有定位，脉络清晰，是带着先入为主地预期去赏读的化；那拿起此书的时候不妨把心理价位放得越低越好。雅贼里的冷幽默和对前辈们的调侃揶揄是看不到的；不睡觉里的风流倜傥也是不会有的（为人津津乐道的一女御两男这种段子在我看来真是主题不明的累赘；难道Block想从性的角度诠释众生平等？恐怕是我过度诠释了）；名不见经传的大胖系列里对世事地愤愤不平在此也流于表面，换个场景，换个背景，故事依然可以讲得圆，拿纽约的伤痛做噱头真的显得有点不厚道了；甚至连最深入人心的马修系列里的那种带入感，在此也消亡殆尽。各类小人物倒是如马修般地穿梭于种种似有深寓的场景，但就连对生活地内审及孜孜不倦滴奋发精神，在这每天变换不同死法的大苹果里也显得过于羚羊挂角地难以琢磨了。

贸然地解释为“长歌当哭，需在痛定之后”，似乎也不对，但真的很难体会到那种感同身受的心悸。如果说非要穿凿附会地说是以局外人的隔阂无惊无喜地审视他人的苦难以自勉，那阅毕也只能是轻松的叹一口说：咦，蛮好的，又帮我打发了几分寂寞时光……。如果说海明威还愿意为不美好的生活奋斗的化，在次就只剩下庸庸碌碌地漠然了。世事皆妄，无关宏旨；至于心绪，真的是可有可无了。

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Before...

起初

On September 11 2001 sunrise came at 6:33 am. The forecast called for clear skies and a beautiful day.

二零零一年九月十一日，上午六点三十三分。天气预报为：天气爽朗，宜人的一天。

At 8:45 a.m. American Airlines Flight 11 bound from Boston to Los Angeles struck the North Tower of the World Trade Center.

上午八点四十五分，从波士顿飞往洛杉矶编号为十一的美国航空公司班机，撞上了纽约世贸中心的北塔。

At 9:05 a.m. United Airlines Flight 175 also bound from Boston to Los Angeles struck the South Tower.

上午九点零五分，也是从波士顿飞往洛杉矶的，编号为一七五号的联合航空公司班机，撞上了世贸中心的南塔。

At 9:50 a.m. forty-five minutes after it had been hit the South Tower fell.

九点五十分，遭撞击四十五分钟之后，南塔崩塌。

At 10:30 a.m. an hour and forty-five minutes after it had been hit the North Tower fell.

十点三十分，遭撞击一小时又二十五分钟后，北塔接继崩塌。

At 10:29 a.m. on May 30 2002 cleanup efforts at Ground Zero were completed.

二零零二年五月三十日十点二十九分，世贸中心原址，“零地”清理完毕。

There was widespread agreement throughout the city that nothing would ever be the same again.

在这个城巿里，每个人心底都明白：这座城市，再不复往日的辉煌了。

One

第一章

BY THE TIME Jerry Pankow was redy for breakfast already been to three bars and a whorehouse.

潘捷利打算吃早餐时，他已经去过三家酒吧和一家妓院了。

It was he’d discovered a great opening line. “By the time I had my eggs and hash browns this morning . . .” Wherever he delivered it in backroom bars or church basements it got attention. Made him sound interesting and wasn’t that one of the reasons he’d come to New York? To lead an interesting life certainly and to make himself interesting to others.

“今天早上，在我想吃跟馅饼加蛋的时候……”——他觉得这种屁话真是很棒的开场白。无论身处酒吧包间，还是教堂地下室，此话一出，铁定能引起大家的关注。这些话让他显得风趣幽默，而这不正是他来纽约闯荡的目的之一吗？想要生活过得有滋有味的生活，就得要让别人跟你合得来。

And one had to admit to plumb the depths of depravity which resonated well enough with the notion of three bars and a whorehouse before breakfast.

而他暗审内心，人实在是太容易堕落了。尤其是在早餐前就不得不目睹了三家酒吧与一家妓院的奢乱场景，这种诱惑就愈发显得……。

Today he was having his breakfast in Joe Jr.’s a Greek coffee shop at the corner of Sixth Avenue and West Twelfth Street. He wasn’t exactly a regular here. The whorehouse was on Twenty-eighth two doors east of Lexington right around the corner from the Indian delis and restaurants that had people calling the area Curry Hill. Samosa and aloo gobi wasn’t his idea of breakfast and anyway those places wouldn’t open until lunchtime but he liked the Sunflower coffee shop on Third Avenue and stopped there more often than not after he finished up at the whorehouse.

今天他是在小乔的店吃的早餐。那是位于第六大道和西十二街交叉口的一家希腊咖啡馆。他并不常到这边来吃早点，毕竟妓院在二十八街上。列克辛敦餐厅往东数过去两家就是妓院。它正好位处十字路口，夹在一家印度熟食店跟餐馆之间，大家都喜欢把这个地段叫作咖哩坡。炸馅饺和花椰菜煨马铃薯这种口味可不是理想的早餐，况且这两家店都是不到中午绝不开门的。他其实更喜欢位于第三大道的向日葵咖啡馆，但是，晃过妓院之后，就不想再到那流连了。

This morning though he was several degrees short of ravenous and his next scheduled stop was in the Village at Charles and Waverly So he’d walked across Twenty-third and down Sixth. That stretch of Sixth Avenue had once afforded a good view of the twin towers and now it showed you where they’d been showed you the gap in the downtown skyline. A view of omission he’d thought more than once.

And now here he was in a booth at Joe’s with orange juice and a western omelet and a cup of coffee light no sugar and how depraved was that? It was ten o’clock and he’d get to Marilyn’s by eleven and be out of there by one with the rest of the day free and clear. Maybe he’d catch the two-thirty meeting at Perry Street. He could stop by after he left Marilyn’s and put his keys on a chair so he’d have a seat when he came back at meeting time. You had to do that there it was always standing-room-only by the time the meeting started.

Recovery he thought. The hottest ticket in town.

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整个一、二、三章地看下去，虽然啰啰嗦嗦的废话蛮多，看起来还是韵味十足。情节也蛮抓人的，多线布局的手法也老道精准，不至于让人想着象看黄易的《覆雨翻云》一样看完一个人物再看一个另人物。但要说整篇故事有什么匠心独运之处，有什么桥段深入人心，我实体书一遍电子书又一遍地颠来倒去看了不下五回，如今回想，还真的没有耶。无非是用一个很复杂的故事来讲一个神经病伏法的轶事而已。中间穿插着的各种人物的生活琐事，也并不出彩；印象深刻地倒是很有剧情电视剧韵味的尾声……

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Forty-Two

第四十二章

ON SEPTEMBER 11 2002 sunrise came at 6:31 AM. The forecast called for partly cloudy skies with a forty percent chance of showers in the late afternoon.

JERRY PANKOW WHO WORKED for a catering service and didn’t have to report until nine had not broken the habit of early rising. He was up before dawn took a long hot shower and thought about the cute guy he’d picked up over the weekend. Really sweet in and out of bed but he could have been a guest on I’ve Got a Secret because he sure did. Wasn’t wearing a wedding ring but was wearing the mark the ring had left and kept touching the spot nervously. Married clearly and new to the sin that dared not speak its name which in recent years had become the sin that would not shut up. Lou he’d said his name was but he’d stuttered a little getting it out and Jerry’s guess was that his name did in fact start with an L but that it was anything but Lou. Dressing he wondered if he’d ever see him again.

AT 7:24 A YOUNG woman in a white uniform attached a fresh bottle to one of Fran Buckram’s IV lines. “Oh good” he said. “Breakfast.” She giggled as if she’d never heard the line before which struck him as unlikely.

He closed his eyes but couldn’t get back to sleep. He hoped they’d let him out of here soon and wondered what he would do when they did. Mend of course and eat real food again and do a lot of physical therapy but what would he do after that?

Not run around the country making speeches. Not run for office. Not hang out a shingle as a private investigator. None of the above but what?

He’d think of something.

AT 7:40 JAY MCGANN came back from his morning run and went straight to the shower. He was dressed by eight and by the time his wife got to the table he had their breakfast ready. He’d be at his desk by nine as he was every morning. Writing was a business after all and if you wanted to get anywhere with it you had to approach it in a businesslike fashion.

He asked his wife how her omelet was and she said it was fine and then she asked him if anything was wrong. No he said nothing was wrong. Why? Because you seem different she said.

“Well now that you mention it” he said and he told her he’d been thinking that he ought to get an office. Someplace just for writing so that he could go there every day and do his work and then come home. John Cheever he told her had had an office early in his career in the basement of his apartment building and every morning he put on a suit and tie and stuck a hat on his head and he rode the elevator to the basement and went into a room and took off the jacket and the tie and the hat and went to work. And put them on again at five o’clock and went home.

She said Just for work right? And he said Sure what else?

AT 8:12 JIM GALVIN woke up on the couch of his Alphabet City apartment. He’d taken off his shirt and shoes but was still wearing his pants and socks. There was a bad taste in his mouth and a pounding in the back of his head.

He drank a glass of water threw it up and drank another. When that one stayed down he drank one more glass of water with a couple of aspirin. He showered and when he went to shave his hand was trembling. He put the safety razor down and went into the other room and there was still plenty of booze left in the open bottle and most of the bottles left in the case. He poured himself a drink just a short one and when he resumed shaving his hand was rock steady.

MAURY WINTERS GOT UP four times during the night. Around seven he decided that was as much sleep as he was going to get and got busy taking the fistful of herbs he took every morning. He wondered if they were doing any good. One was supposed to shrink his prostate which would be a blessing but so far he couldn’t see the difference.

He checked to see if they’d delivered the Times yet. They had and he brought it in and read it. At eight-thirty his wife told him breakfast was ready and he told her she was an angel. While he was drinking his second cup of coffee his wife asked him if he’d had a good night.

“Every night above ground’s a good night” he told her. “Every day being married to you is heaven.” And he got up from the table and went over and gave her a kiss.

EDDIE RAGAN DIDN’T OPEN his eyes until 9:20. He wasn’t in his own apartment and it took him a moment to remember where he was and even then he couldn’t pin it down geographically. He could ask the woman who’d brought him home with her but a check of the apartment’s other rooms didn’t turn her up. Off to work he thought.

He’d hung out at the Kettle for a while after he finished his shift and then he and a couple of people went next door to the Fifty-Five and then where? It got a little hazy at that point but he wound up at Googie’s late and that’s where he pulled the dame and she’d brought him back here.

What the hell was her name anyway? He couldn’t remember. They had a good time he remembered that. Nice rack and she gave head like she could teach school in the subject he remembered that. He couldn’t quite picture her face but was sure he’d recognize her if he saw her. Well fairly sure.

She drank Sambuca straight up in a little cordial glass with three coffee beans in it. That he remembered.

LOWELL COOKE WAS AT his desk by nine-thirty. He went right to work returning phone calls and answering mail. He had a lunch date scheduled with an agent making her fall trip to New York and one of his writers was coming by during the afternoon. And of course he had a stack of manuscripts to read if he ever found the time.

At breakfast his wife had asked him if everything was okay and he said of course it was.

I’m gay he wanted to say but he hadn’t been able to say it any more than he’d been able to say his name to the fellow he’d been with Monday night. I’m Lou he’d said and his companion for the evening had been polite enough to pretend to believe him and to call him Lou throughout.

God what was he going to do?

STELLI SAFRAN RARELY GOT to bed before three and rarely got up before noon. Today though a muscle cramp woke her around ten. She went to the kitchen and ate a banana on the chance that it might be a potassium deficiency. Or maybe it was calcium so she drank a glass of milk.

Then again she thought maybe it was butter and sugar and flour and wouldn’t it be terrible to suffer cramps because of a deficiency of any of those essential elements?

She got out a mixing bowl and made pancakes.

AT A QUARTER TO eleven Esther blinkoff returned a call from Roz Albright. They told each other not for the first time how excited they were about Darker Than Water and eventually Roz said that she had a new writer she was also very enthusiastic about a woman she’d published some short stories but this was her first novel.

Think Bridget Jones meets The Lovely Bones she said.

Esther said she’d love to see it.

CHLOE SIGURDSON OPENED UP the Susan Pomerance Gallery at eleven. She’d been coming in earlier lately a change Susan had made in order to give her own schedule more flexibility. This day Chloe didn’t have much to do other than listen to the radio and talk to friends on the phone. Susan came in at eleven-forty-five changed the station to WQXR took a moment to brush her hand over Chloe’s breasts then across the top of her head.

“I’m leaving early” Susan told her. She was going to her boyfriend’s apartment she’d brought him a present.

Chloe knew who she meant. The writer Mr. Big Shoulders.

He’s cute she’d told Susan and Susan had said Would you like to do him? Maybe I’ll give you to him for his birthday.

She wondered if Susan was kidding. Maybe maybe not. Sometimes it was hard to tell with Susan.

But she knew one thing. When she grew up she wanted to be like Susan.

JOHN BLAIR CREIGHTON ROSE early and went to the gym. It was a new one right around the corner at Greenwich and West Twelfth where the Greenwich Theater used to be. Years ago not long after he’d moved to Bank Street he joined the Attic Gym which then occupied the floor above the movie theater. The gym went out of business when the theater expanded and became a duplex and now the theater was gone and a new building had gone up to house this new gym and a few days ago he’d joined it.

He had a workout and a sauna and a shower ate across the street at the Village Den but waited until he got home to have coffee. He got halfway through his second cup before he wondered what he was going to do next.

Writing was great he thought. You suffered and you agonized and you were beset by doubts and fears and then you finished a book and felt absolutely ecstatic convinced that you were great and your book was great and your future was coming up roses.

That lasted for about a week and then you realized that you were washed up that you’d never do anything decent again and look at you you indolent slug why were you just sitting around doing nothing? Why weren’t you writing something?

So he sat there trying to think of something to write.

And then the bell rang and it wasn’t cops it wasn’t Jehovah’s Witnesses it wasn’t the kid from Two Boots. It was Susan and she’d brought him a present.

随即，门铃响了，这次不会是警察、也不是耶和华见证会的传道士，更不会是“双靴店”送外卖的小屁孩。是苏珊，她还给他带了礼物。

And shortly thereafter they were in bed and she was telling him a story. And on the bookshelf a magnificent white bear with turquoise eyes shared the dish of stone-ground yellow cornmeal with the little turquoise rabbit.

很快滴，他们都到了床上，这时苏珊会给他讲个故事。而在书架上，一只硕大的绿眼睛白熊，和一只绿眼小兔子一起分享着一碟磨得细细的黄色玉米粉。

It looked as though they were going to get along just fine.

看来，它们相处得还不错嘛。

AND ALL OF THEM like everyone else in the great city waited to see what was going to happen next.

大家，和这座伟大城市里的其他人一样，都等着看接下来会有什么故事上演。

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生活的苦难告一段落，大家都用期待的心情打量彼此的人生……