作为文学家的村上春树与卡佛

抛掷物

图片 1

大叫,笨蛋。怪物。

“Ray was eager, almost childlike with delight, to meet Murakami, to see
who he was and why Ray’s writing had brought them together on the
planet,” Tess Gallagher, Carver’s widow, wrote after the meeting.

三个猛然有一点别的什么进来了的房子。

Raymond Clevie Carver, Jr.

驾着大器晚成辆七十年代的Dodge小小车

of my books in your country. Slipped

I looked into a corner of the room.

in my stories. And that element

在那多少个粗鲁的玩意儿前面,而他们

Murakami probably was thinking of “So Much Water So Close to Home,” the
story of men who find a woman’s body on a fishing trip and continue to
fish for two days before contacting the police. Carver was thinking of a
moment when he was 16 and his eardrum was broken by a snowball, a memory
that came roaring back 30 years later and left just as quickly.

one last obscenity. And saw this guy

Originally published June 25, 2017 at 7:00 am Updated June 25, 2017 at
3:59 pm

now, I imagine I see it coming. See it

A fateful literary meeting: Raymond Carver and Haruki Murakami

关于忧伤和欺凌的攀谈中

The two writers met in person only once, but it provided a lifetime of
inspiration; most recently shown in Murakami’s new collection “Men
Without Women.”

其他要想的事总是那样多。

in terms of sales.

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Haruki Murakami met Northwest short-story writer Raymond Carver for the
first and only time in the summer of 1984. Murakami was 35 and had been
writing for six years; his first great novel, “A Wild Sheep Chase,” came
out in 1982 but none of his work had been published in English. He was
known to Carver only as the enthusiastic translator who had been
bringing his stories out in Japan at an impressive clip.

挥手手臂计划扔掉。从那一个有利位置

It never happened. Carver thought his years of hard drinking would kill
him but the cigarettes got there first, lung cancer that spread to his
brain and brought him down in 1988, at 50. Gallagher gave Murakami a
pair of Carver’s shoes, a sign of respect from one writer to another.

何以要记得那辆呆头呆脑的车

on possible reasons for the success

他迟早遭到他的诉讼失败,碰到

Both men were shy. Carver was a mumbler, uneasy around strangers, and a
tape Murakami made sounded “like little more than a badly done wiretap.”
They connected, though, and Carver paid close attention to his guest.
Carver was in the warm flush of fame, good years after so much alcohol
and heartbreak. “What We Talk About When We Talk About Love” (1981) was
his breakout book and “Cathedral” (1983), his masterpiece, the best
stories of his generation, the best ever by a Northwest writer.

往往现身的事物。以至这种

Murakami is an international sensation, the author of two dozen books
that are translated everywhere. “Men Without Women,” his new short-story
collection (Knopf, 228 pp., $25.95), has Carver’s influence on every
page. An actor knows his more-famous wife had affairs and after her
death he befriends one of her lovers. A housewife delivers groceries to
a shut-in and tells him stories after passionless sex. A doctor spends a
lifetime keeping love at arm’s length and forgets its power. “Men
Without Women” is the title of a 1927 short-story collection by Ernest
Hemingway, but it’s Carver that Murakami is thinking of when he writes
that “Dreams are the kind of things you can — when you need to — borrow
and lend out.”

纯属偶尔的成分。全部这几个

into talk of pain and humiliation

真难熬,小编起来哭泣,

Murakami is self-taught, a jazz-club owner who started writing fiction
after an epiphany at a baseball game. He sticks to his own path and
follows it without hesitation. In Carver’s fiction, he found a map to
guide him.

And the humiliation.

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本人凝视着房间的二个角落。

(Mary Cauffman / The Seattle Times)

末段一句下流话。看到非凡东西

Carver was curious enough to interrupt his writing schedule for a social
visit — something he generally avoided — and he was flattered that
Murakami had come all the way from Japan to Port Angeles to meet him.

But my window was down three inches.

Carver’s literary path zigzagged through the Northwest. Born in
Clatskanie, Oregon, to a sawmill worker and a waitress, Carver grew up
in Yakima, got married at 19, and joined his father in the mill. He
bounced around for the next 20 years, drinking, taking classes,
squeezing out time to write on the weekends. His stories were about
working people struggling to connect, falling down and getting up.

笔者们抿着茶。思忖着

By Jeff Baker (Special to The Seattle Times)

时而,作者又回来16周岁

Carver didn’t know it, but Murakami was on a pilgrimage. When Murakami
read Carver’s “So Much Water So Close to Home” in 1982, he was hit by a
thunderbolt. To Murakami, this was genius, “an entirely new kind of
fiction,” realistic but penetrating and profound in a way that he
believed “goes beyond simple realism.” Murakami read another Carver
story, “Where I’m Calling From,” in The New Yorker, and began collecting
and translating everything of Carver’s he could find.

and snow. The pain was stupendous.

The Murakamis stayed for two hours. All went well, and Carver promised
to return the visit on a trip to Japan. Murakami was thrilled and
ordered an extra-large bed so his new American friend would be
comfortable in his home.


of sheer chance. How all this translates

但那时候自家没瞧见。小编已转过头

Murakami and his wife, Yoko, visited Carver and Gallagher at Sky House,
a wide-windowed home on the Strait of Juan de Fuca. Murakami was struck
by Carver’s “massive physical size,” and noted “the way he sat on the
sofa with his body crunched up as if to say he had never intended to get
so big, and he had an embarrassed expression on his face.”

紧接着消失?

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like those soldiers in the first part

Smoked salmon and black tea were served. Carver’s mind, as it often did,
wandered away for a moment that he captured in “The Projectile,” a poem
he dedicated to Murakami:

cried, Dumb luck. Freak accident.

We sipped tea. Politely musing

就好像上个世纪前半期的

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of shot fly in their direction

you find occurring, and recurring,

我的书在你的国家获得成功的

At their one meeting, Murakami never asked Carver about translation and
never told Carver he was a writer.

He never gave that afternoon

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in terms of sales.

“I guess I should have done that,” Murakami told the Harvard Crimson 20
years later, “but I didn’t know he would die so young.”

而她们呆立着,因可怕的迷怔

(以上海教室片均出自于互连网。)

和自身的伴儿们说笑。

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He must have wiped his hands on his pants.

(May 25, 1938 – August 2, 1988)

for Haruki Murakami

“Raymond Carver was without question the most valuable teacher I ever
had and also the greatest literary comrade,” Murakami wrote in “A
Literary Comrade,” an essay published after Carver’s death. “The novels
I write tend, I believe, in a very different direction from the fiction
Ray has written. But if he had never existed, or I had never encountered
his writings, the books I write, especially my short fiction, would
probably assume a very different form.”

of my head so hard it broke my eardrum and fell

朝他们飞来,

And for a minute I was 16 again,

bozos. Giving the finger

和五多少个傻小子

想必是因为您的随笔是由人生中广大的微薄的耻辱而结缘的?那样马来人会比较轻松接收。

We politely raise our tea cups in the room.

We sipped tea. Politely musing

our car with snowballs, gravel, old

in his life, same as I got lost in mine.

伸出中指,他们喊话着,

如何转变成销量。

my head to laugh with my pals.

不管在杂谈照旧在小说里,用普通但可信赖的言语,去写普通的事物,并付与这几个平凡的事物

─管它是椅子,窗帘,叉子,依然一块石头,或女生的耳坠——以科学普及而惊魂动魄的力量,那是足以成功的。写一句表面上看起来无关宏旨的寒暄,并进而传递给读者冷彻骨髓的寒意,那是能够达成的。

The Projectile

我们在屋企里高雅地举起双耳杯。

村上在有些阐述会上曾说,讲团结的小说有一点点难为情,不过讲讲翻译是足以的,因为是外人写的小说。他透过翻译卡佛的文章,亦雕琢出来村上作风的文娱体育,卡佛的文风诚实而轻松,「推敲细密,把程式化的语言和不要求的梳洗全体去除,在此个基础上竭尽以『逸事』的样式,坦诚而温柔地揭示自个儿的真心话,是卡佛追求的文化艺术境界」,那与村上也很为相近。就算三个人的创作为主天差地别,卡佛的社会风气集中于人与人里面包车型大巴关系和内在的恐慌感,而村上的社会风气则是环绕内心的孤独和数不胜数的想像。但她仍然翻译了卡佛的全方位小说。

对此村上来说,翻译其实是兴趣爱好,而非专门的学问,它就如保龄球同样。他并不曾非常地上学过翻译,大学也实际不是斯洛伐克语职业,只是高中的时候习于旧贯了读立陶宛(Lithuania)语原版的书籍,积存大批量的读书之后,大势所趋地,便学会了翻译。他说,小说能够信守本身的主见,南征北战,可是翻译不行,必要尽最大恐怕扫除本自个儿(ego),在制惩在那之中,让翻译中的自身谦恭而增添,那样对写随笔也可以有极大的补益。

一九八三年夏,村上夫妇去了在Washington州奥林匹亚半岛,登门拜候卡佛夫妇,他们的家建在山丘上,取了一个“sky house”
的雅名,那时卡佛正忙着写作,但依然控制要腾出时间来和村上聊黄金时代聊。译者大老远的从东瀛跑过来会见,卡佛也乐得欢腾。据卡佛的妻妾说,「Ray
特别想和村上拜望。完全像个孩子一点差距也未有雀跃着,他专程想理解,本人的篇章是怎么把隔开分离重洋的两个人再而三到一起的」。深夜村上夫妇达到未来,一齐吃了熏罗锅鱼,喝了些乌龙茶,村上和卡佛走到户外的台阶上,哀悼撞上玻璃的小鸟之死,议论着卡佛在东瀛获得美评的理由。

And messed around a little more

耻辱也是。

出其不意某种东西猛地撞击作者尾部旁边,

When something slammed into the side

参考资料:

It was awful when I began to weep

A room that for a minute something else entered.

before going home to supper. He grew up

speeding through the air while I watch,

掉下来,完整无缺。一个紧实的

而且在回乡吃晚餐前

careening around in the snow

给村上春树

挪不动半步。

那是您发今后自家的小说中

后天,卡佛依照这段对话,写了大器晚成首诗,赠与村上。(The
Projectile,附在文末)

of sheer chance. How all this translates

the shouts and back-slaps of the others.

A chance in a million!

into talk of pain and humiliation

用雪球,砂砾,枯枝朝着我们的小车

村上说,

モノをつくる人間にとって一番恐いのは井の中の蛙のみたいに狭い場所で、固定されたシステムの中で妙に落ち着いてしまうこと。もっと目を外に向けていくべきだし、もっと広い場所に自分をおかなければいけない。そういう点で
“翻訳は外に開かれた窓” 。

扔掉。大家疾驰离开,叫骂着。

在那天的会见中,村上尚无问卡佛翻译的事,也未有告知她,他骨子里是多少个大手笔。

她生命中的退步,正如笔者同样。

in a ‘50 Dodge sedan with five or six

But I didn’t see it. I’d already turned

to have his share of setbacks and get lost

Three inches. I hollered out

tree branches. We spun away, shouting.

while they stood, unable to move

down the stupid road, then turning the stupid corner

of my books in your country. Slipped

So much else to think about always.

穿过空气急速进步。笔者瞧着它,

冰雪球。疼痛是钻心的。

of the last century watched cannisters

another thought. And why should he?

自鸣得意的表情,当别的人朝他大喊大叫,

into my lap, intact. A ball of packed ice

计划就到此结束。

in front of those tough guys while they

you find occurring, and recurring,

但小编的车窗降下了三英寸。

极当中午,为啥要想吧?

近些日子多看小说短篇,翻开卡佛的短篇集《大教堂》的第大器晚成页,明明是中译本,前言却是村上春树所写,篇名「雷MondCarver:
葡萄牙人民的口舌」。在那之中原因,多半是出于村上太喜欢卡佛了,在村上春树的创作中,也可见到卡佛的印痕,语言平实,用词简练,多为未有截至的扫尾。卡佛的文章被商议为极具极简主义的美学,就算他自身并不爱好那个标签。

小说情势是把心里所思所想流畅而大肆的发挥出来,翻译方式则是把客人的所思所想对照自个儿的言语转变出来。村上在四十七年间,交替实行那二种情势,好似精气神上的血液循环常常。他把翻译名字为「向外张开的窗」,去吗,把团结的理念放到国外去,把本人投身到世界中间去,如此方能免了成为夏虫语冰的摇摇欲倒。

翻译 | Raymond Carver / The Projectile – for Haruki
Mu…

她恐怕在裤子上擦了擦手。

她再未有想过

沿着马路滑行,然后转头拐角

前不久,小编预计自身看到它飞过去了。看到它

and disappearing?

七十年后,村上那样说。

on possible reasons for the success

in my stories. And that element

And we were gonna leave it at that.

拍拍她的肩部意味着嘉许。

多闲荡了会儿。长大后

and proud of himself, while he took

只有三英寸。作者叫嚣出

1981年,在卡佛在美利坚同车笠之盟还没持有宏大威望之时,村上突发性在一本选集中读到了卡佛的黄金时代篇题为《脚下流淌的深河》(So
Much Water so Close to
Home)的随笔,进而备受感动,便狼狈周章把卡佛的有所小说都翻译,并介绍到了扶桑。卡佛文章的精气神内涵根植于她前半生所受的诉讼失败,他无处阶层(即工人阶级或中国和南美洲法产阶层)所处的灾祸和无可奈何,和他所观望到的一发实际的美利坚联邦合众国。东瀛的读者喜欢卡佛,差非常少是因为他俩和美利哥的中产阶级同样,是割裂和窝火的。在他们生命中,恐怕有像样羞愧的东西在其间作梗,不管新加坡人仍然德国人都是同等。


那个士兵望着霰弹

本身的耳膜震破了,耳垂

在雪地里横行不法。向此外一些家伙

非常扔雪球的玩意儿,不能不装出惊惧,

The guy who threw it, he had to be amazed,

Why remember that stupid car sliding

wind up to throw. From this vantage,

或者的来由。沉浸在

自个儿猜我应当说的。但自己没悟出,他会走得那么早。

for the dread fascination of it.

千年不遇!

to some other bozos, who yelled and pelted