X August

类别:文学名著 作者:迈克尔·翁达杰 本章:X August

    CARAVAGGIO CAME DON tairs to tcable, some turnips ill muddy. t came from a fire ly started. So  eps into t tenseness, so  in ures. Only  remained. Oto o ures.

    turn, realize he room.

    “ t s for too long.

    “alked .” “Is  you t   so. Kip and I are bot people are eccentrics, ric myself. ting someterrace, doesn’t  me out tood up from  te, wiping e forearm.

    “For your birto tell you a small story,” he said.

    S him.

    “Not about Patrick, okay?” “A little about Patrick, mostly about you.” “I still can’t listen to tories, David.” “Fat .” “talk to me   about  iculous. ting in reet at midnigrick  moved like a god in runk filled out and this greyness in him, he was a friendlier human.

    tonig looking foro it. One meal in tables and presented t briefly boiled into a soup. It o be anot meal, not o tairs. ,  into .

    “I can get you off t of tco terrace, one balustrade, .

    It looked to Caravaggio like a string of small electric candles found in dusty c too far in removing th her hands over her face.

    t of  er. ennis s on tone.

    “I kept finding dead she sapper said.

    till didn’t understand. Caravaggio bent over tter of lig  forty.

    “Forty-five,” Kip said, “tury. e ts noo see  , no.

    Caravaggio ed by tartling presence of ttles of red able.  drink any of it. All t iquette book in t and tatoes. o Kip’s and came o table.

    te and drank, ted t on tongues. turning silly in toasts to t forager”—and to tient. toasted eacer. to talk about  alening, sometimes standing up and able, pacing and pacing  all ted to force to, but to range rules about tions iced t. th pink paraffin.

    “e must keep t till midnigalked t th Japan is over, everyone will finally go home,” Kip said.

    “And alk, mostly to Kip.

    tiously approacable and laid its ories about toronto as if it  droy, iced up ts in tened to concerts. But ed in o ure, tories t involved some moment of ed Kip to knoted to Kip as if tials, less and needed no discussion.

    Sies in a book so on t o boil an egg, or t o slip garlic into a lamb. t to be questioned.

    And noold tory of old tempted a version of it. “No, you o sing it out,” said o sing it standing up!” Sood up, pulled ennis so table. ts flickering, almost dying, on table beside .

    “t learn to sing it, Kip. to darkness beyond t, beyond t from tient’s room and into t of ts.

    Kip en during strange moments, sucu soccer matc in t fe, never liked to listen to it. In  ened  tered by t t sixteen but ecentative circle of lig as if it  ever again bring all toget ered by to t of y-first birty-fiftietury. Singing in tired traveller, alone against everytestament. tainty to t all tains of po . Caravaggio realized s of the sapper.

    In tent ts of no talk and nigalk. t  imacy of s on bloion. ifully releases t into taly.

    In tent Kip nestles against o c omac .

    Sent’s darkness, to be y of feat .  quite quick as t  is random around  colour.

    But at nigorpor. S see  seeing  a key to him.

    Every as srange pato be a  is  for ure and o get free.” During ts, travel ry of five rivers. tlej, Jo t gurder  in , desecrated in  and built again immediately. In  gold and marble ook you before morning you  of all t over ter. t lifts to reveal temple in ligs—Ramananda, Nanak and Kabir. Singing is at tre of emple gardens—pomegranates, oranges. temple is a o all. It is t crossed t, to till eleven at night.

    t random, a quotation selected, and for t lifts off to reveal temple, t h unbroken reading.

    Kip ree s priest of temple, is buried. A tree of superstitions, four y years old. “My moto tie a string onto a brancree for a son, and o be blessed rees and magic er all over t. . A fat.

    “I  someone like a fat ssider and so can scroyed by unfairness and t. If shis war.

    In spite of terrible unfairness.  dismantling a bomb t mig any moment, could come  rials around ion and lig se, and at Amritsar’s temple all faite togeto place money or a floo t spread upon t permanent singing.

    S. ure. o enter any of een gates of cer, but s if urn to face e a space around rate. t. Sik at tecical closeness... ?” “Affinity.” “Yes, affinity,  among t of music al set o  a speed t allowed o replace loss.

    t  in  rigepping out eacc sco time. After a fees o torn cypresses, oo.

    Kip rees over  of rangest profession ury ed, a sapper, a military engineer ed and disarmed mines. Eacent, batepped as surroundings, not even entering ty, o to understand. Sy yards from th.

    It   t t and  trict talent. In Siena t mural sy. A feside ty ist’s paint  even ty of art to provide an orcraveller leaving tle. t  during tep from ted scene to. So profugus—fate’s fugitive. S ting o trees.

    to Naples at tober , selecting t from t aly, Kip among ty men o trapped city.

    talian campaign  brilliant and terrible retreats in ory. taken a montook a year. trucks as turbances t signalled land mines or glass mines or sains, partisan bands of Garibaldi communist groups, ed hem.

    taly and in Nort be imagined. At tion,  mines  truer tisruhem elsewhere.

    Mines  of everyty-centimetre galvanized pipes  along military pat in e, metal scraps and nails. Soute into four-gallon petrol cans t could troy armoured cars.

    It  in ties. Bomb disposal units, barely trained, eentober , tled , high-explosive bombs.

    Italy mar-isric, tivated mec from t units rained in. As sappers entered cities trung from trees or ten retaliated by killing ten Italians for every German killed. Some of to be blown up in midair.

    ted Naples on October i,

    During an Allied raid tember, izens side ty. treat bombed trance to tizens to stay underground. A typ. In ttled ser.

    ty sappers o a city of booby traps. tion bombs sealed into tly suspicious of any object placed casually in a room. trusted everytable unless it er tting a pen on a table ion it hicker end facing four o’clock.

    Naples continued as a  for ter tizens in t and typo ty als was one of gs.

    Four days later tral post office bley-t collection of mediaeval records in Europe y archives.

    On tietober, tricity o be restored, a German turned old auties t tion of ty t o t electrical system.

    urned on, ty ed more times, in differing stages of tact and violence—at ties ill uncertain about ime an entire area of ty ed. C dead, t, t out of t of tals, mental patients, priests and monks and nuns out of the abbeys.

    By dusk on tober , , only twelve sappers remained behind.

    tricity o be turned on at t day. None of ty city before, and to be trangest and most disturbing heir lives.

    During torms roll over tuscany. Ligoal or spire t rises up out of turns to to be the mediaeval experience.

    o like sucemporal s. Sance, pausing in o look back too see urn to tinues  curls sloo t and to t. ts on ts, ting tilt, entering t.

    For t ten minutes ake , a clicking on t for now  refresorm.

    If ts to tinues  t.

    In ent  over disappears into tains. A sudden sunligning tent  seems to er t, a flasained po do al set,   turban, dries her around his head.

    torm rolls out of Piedmont to to t. Ligeeples of tableaux reenact tations of teries of toerra-cotta figures carved in ting biblical scenes. t pulled back, t cableau raising toed clouds.

    ted  srees in corms, tning patically minimal compared  s te movement, momentarily lit up, flung ironically against this war.

    to ty. All t to sealed tunnels, descended into se migral generators. to drive a ty is to be turned on.

    A city of ts of to tor, one at till diving—ties most certain destruction y. It is unnerving mostly because of t come from apartment reets. ime comes, o one of ts of Pompeii and  dog frozen in we ash.

    t sapper ligrapped to  arm is turned on as  on trada Carbonara. ed from t searctle to do. Eac it is to be used only for an emergency discovery. It is terrible silence in ty courtyards and tains t makes  tired.

    At one p.m. races oning filled tableau. An angel and a  in a peing, but to be no more revelation.

    ers t corner of terracotta figures painted te s a bedroom self under t oucbone. eps foro teen feet in . Still, for Kip, t is an ined room, and ures t represent some fable about mankind and heaven.

    cs to lie on it, ating only because of ticed ty ligtaco its back beneate of   sleep easily in tage slippers, a set designer’s subtlety, peeking out from under t is about one-forty.

    tens tco a pilloone. Most of  on a mat on trutten accustomed to t. A pallet and an air pillo, ro-po ttress, and lay tive and ail  to sleep on t.

    retc beside too, ices, are larger t of Amazonians slip into tentative rig turn on ty’s electricity, and if o explode  on a final searce and time cartridges. alls  al figures.  of tion.

    erpreting a neoug notice before. te flo oo is a  of ts o tiredness.

    o be sleeping, t e. turban ec of t the neck of Mary.

    At  to be no time ed t comfortable of positions to forget time. So   our surroundings. tableau no t of ts a debate over e. terra-cotta arm a stay of execution, a promise of some great future for t at t of decision, agreement.

    Under t ttaco its back are t bulbs, t in spite of t tricity suddenly ligs  tard fields sed in te afternoon.

    ure, s Kip’s body follo of s it. turned into a stone of silence in t. S August day—s on table in front of hunder.

    Sure not of pain but of o ig s voice among to ays like t and ts up and moves in a diagonal to, enters it, and closes thunder and she sees her arms darken.

    Kip emerges from tent o t eel ball in an arcade game, tairs teps at a time, ronomed, t of s against tical sections of stairs. S along tinues to sit at table in tc of s frozen and sorm light.

    ers tands at t of tient lies. hello, sapper.

    tock is against , its sling braced against riangled arm.

    side?

    Kip looks condemned, separate from turns and fires into tain, and ter explodes dust onto ts back so ts at to sries to control t.

    Put dohe gun, Kip.

    tops er dust in them.

    I sat at t of tened to you, Uncle. t mont, t older people taug knoering it, but in any case passing it beyond me to another.

    I greraditions from my country, but later, more often, from your country. Your fragile  oms and manners and books and prefects and reason someed t of tood for precise beed a teacup ied t in a tie I .

    as it just s gave you suc, as my brotories and printing presses?

    You and ted us. ited t. o ten to w you people have done.

    oal set is at .  and puts tient,  t the door.

    One bomb. ther. hiroshima. Nagasaki.

    oo float intentionally into t. If reets of Asia full of fire. It rolls across cities like a burst map, t  meets tremor of estern wisdom.

    cient, earpening. t moves doo tops breat exact rigo the Enfield rifle. No waver.

    t him.

    Sapper.

    Caravaggio enters tt of to  from t of t, -angle position of to s.

    Kip, talk to me.

    No lig could fall bethe new revealed enemy.

    My brotold me. Never turn your back on Europe. tract makers. trust Europeans,  ting ao happen?

    is it? Jesus, tell us!I’ll leave you to s move again, Caravaggio. All tion from kings and queens and presidents... sucract order. Smell it. Listen to tion in it. In my country, her.

    You don’t know whis man is.

    t un t up tohe man’s eyes.

    Do it, Almasy says.

    tient meet in the world.

    o the sapper.

    Do it, ly.

    Kip ejects tridge and catc as it begins to fall. o ts venom collected. he periphery.

    tugs t of   to the floor.

    Do it, Kip. I don’t  to hear any more.

    o darkness, ahe room.

    t t of rils, fast and on.

    an Englishman.

    American, Frenc care. art bombing truman of t from the English.

    No. Not ake. Of all people he is probably on your side.

    doesn’t matter, hana says.

    Caravaggio sits doting in tal set, till speaking in its underer voice.  bear to turn and look at to. te nation.

    t of t to tinel. In ture, if and  dies, Caravaggio and t t t meant. the Bible.

    t ts, ive for all terrible event emerging out of tion.

    Still nig cries, ted turn. trees rise over ent, still on t. ares into tent. o rivers into reservoirs to avoid flame or  t ever ter to. t bomb carried over t, tohe green archipelago. And released.

    eaten food or drunk er, is unable to s failed ripped tent of all military objects, all bomb disposal equipment, stripped all insignia off urban and combed  and tied it up into a topknot and lay back, sa on tent slo blue of ligo e noises of the air.

    o Asia. eps ao seems, of a city, so vast it lets tness tion around t t  of metal and explosion or if boiling air scoured itself to anyt eat tone bencerrace.  feel e of e everytent, before t evaporated,  out tograp it.  know w he is doing here.

    ands norees in t , untur-banned, a.  line,of  on terrace stone or in ts sleeplessness, standing on t valley of Europe.

    In tanding beside tent. During tc among trees. Eacen alone t niging not and turns and comes toeps onto terrace and disappears.

    In t toarpaulin s and cogs.

    o tting t the wheel.

    Kip.

    hrough her.

    Kip, it’s me.  did ?

    one in front of her.

    So o  , .

    A beating .

    illness doesn’t alter so her knees.

    t can tear itself to opping a few inches from a rain puddle.

    A boy and a girl.

    orcycle from under tarpaulin, Caravaggio leaned for,

    bear t torbike to life and sat on it w ood nearby.

    Singouc t to life.

    o te, Caravaggio ing for  even lift it formally toorbike ubble against  time.  drao to learn o miss you,” Caravaggio said. to the house.

    to life around riump and fine gravel fell arees. t ttle grid at tes, and t of t acked onto treacherous angle.

    o a position of ,  parallel  toucrol tank, al in t resistance.  soutely. to Montevarcoo climb toona.

    ravelling against tion of te no longer tense ary. ook only roads le toance. atic on triump burned under s tear along try roads. tle, all  be slooo and fro like a drunkard, and stage.”  Sol  its smell was released w.

    tootootcebook, including a draing on terrace and urbans, a bottle of starcs leatraps, to be .

    In ts s to do  oucal spile sapping maple sugar out of a tree in ry.

    From ent srait t must ograph in her palm. A Sikh and his family.

    An older broture. Kip beside  years old. “ t  accompanied by a musician.

    S tograprees,  it into the house.

    Eaco a stop, spat into t off . o to tic, t of troops  thern borders.

    o Cortona, tcriumpeps to tatue ed to get closer to t elescope and  too stiff to climb up truction pipes. o enter timacy of a eps, and ted dotered vineyards and  on to Arezzo.

    At Sansepolcro ook a o tains, into t, so o sloo minimal speed. trabaria.  locked t of eness, t a bed beed Urbino ies and towns similar.

    o. Into Gabicce Mare, er, near ue aken. t  day.

    Dear Clara—Dear Maman, Maman is a Frencing cuddles, a personal  can be even sed in public.

    Someting and as eternal as a barge. t, I knoill a canoe. Can ser a creek in seconds. Still independent. Still private. Not a barge responsible for all around you. t letter in years, Clara, and I am not used to ty of t t fealk  used to talking in any  t now.

    t? For a second I forget. But I knoer  ionalize tionalize anything.

    Patrick died in a dove-cot in France. In France in teenteenturies t t his.

    tal line one-t ledge—to stop rats running up t. A sacred place. Like a cing place. Patrick died in a comforting place.

    At five a.m. riumpo life, and t. ill in darkness, still unable to distinguisa beyond to t  route.  came o double ill ahead of him.

    Around ternoon ona,  began to rain and opped to put on a rubber cape. ness. Noer flung onto s from t  think of her.

    , pulled to concentrate. If to be  be aly hrough.

    . It sits on trol tank facing  over ryside t receding palace of strangers on talian . “And my  depart out of t of t of tient sang Isaiao  afternoon o see e  till t into ted room. “Bey captivity, and ly turn and toss to a large country.” o tion ended. Isaiaever o o too.

    t mont of air in front of  t sea in iff, cold, so t from timately, te spray of it as ar, a ation  d t, and t t of deserts from U to hiroshima.

    of to to River. And  arm up o skid.   prepared for to to t underneat along ter dore of tcal around his arms and face.

    in fle, to tled out parallel to ter, self a of t of air.

    torbike and tilled in midair, ted doo ter, tal body bet, jarring a , disappearing, too entering toss to a large country.”  rick end up in a dove-cot, Clara?   tons of   of  of . t I kissed and you kissed. And  and complicated innocence.  unverbal of men, and I am alo like a verbal man around us. e are tionalists, ten lost, uncertain, unspoken.

    and t least been ill t about burning. s?

    it stages of blood and life in ter ed darkness. And  lover or kin.

    I am sick of Europe, Clara.   to come o your small cabin and pink rock in Georgian Bay. I ake a bus up to Parry Sound. And from t to for you, to see tte of you in a canoe coming to rescue me from tered, betraying you. ? ermined?  fooled like us? You t demon for pleasure  bean, t leaf.

    of ter, and he river.

    Caravaggio rand bridge o t villa. tig t of tatue of Demetrius and to tops of trees along o ty arms of the olive.

    eps onto it,  gripping t statue? old ient atues of Demetrius hless.

    Ster and stands up, moves across to close t t moment lig lies like a deep scar alongside tands to ts t.

    Every time tning, rain freezes in t nigo the sky, looks for Caravaggio.

    begins to fall all over o er weighes.

    Ss  of to her hair.

    ts in darkness. In tient’s bedroom t candle burns, still alive in t.

    of sleep, .

    For  sound, and even ligell ts no candle flame to accompany him while he sleeps.

    Around t, a figure at t of  ted onto it per quite discernible in t. ters someted to say, but t bro be so lucky, o speak to the young sapper again.

    ays a, to see if to t brings painless-ness, ill t dies out and ts into o turns around t on  trees.

    o see t slooucurns to . Nothe room.

    Noone of ory skipping over ter, bouncing up so s touche surface again and sinks.

    in e a letter or go one day doo telep, fill out a form and try to contact ry. It is tc grass t triggers o t ient nortor, y. At six p.m. e lab coat. Underneatrousers and a s-sleeved s. s of various kinds—stones, inkpots, a toy truck o keep it from being bloo o t of treet.  ts him.

    ops at a small neigeps into tured.

    And somet tone out of ter and allo to move back ooaly. It ed today. Or tone staireps. eps before he remembered.

    to rigger of memory poned o tal and ran into seven ant patients and administration. Or it migs in the garden.

    And cry. And ions to people around o ce fridge door beram cars. ted gift  only  discern t; all ness is er and to her eyes.

    So o be a certain kind of person. ill likes t about her.

    ness, t t s in t look or t beauty, but t it  it  a present stage of er. It seems every montion are a continuation of tters se to ting no reply, until sopped sending turnedaway by er, he supposed.

    Noo talk urn to t stage t intimate at in tent or in tient’s room, botained turbulent river of space betime,  as fascinated at , o boots are by talian door, tied togethe bed.

    During tcer struggling lery, trying to  table all of toms and s. And auged by o see  in t surprises antly, going beyond even reats dogs on treets, imitating troll, t t t guess ty of expressions at a dog’s disposal.

    And  is not  even ty-four,  found ed. Sness aking risks, and t only sic in t sill remembers t loud to  know well enougo ers o  of my life.

    And so urns and in a regret souc cly passes it into ter, a  tacles.


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