Part 14 Chapter 5
雾和雪、高纬度地区、渊博学识、发蓝的咖啡、没有抹奶油的面包、扁豆汤、罐头猪肉煮豆子、放了很久的奶酪、没有烹熟的食物和糟糕的酒已使这整座感化院里的人陷入便秘的窘境中。正当每个人都憋了一肚子屎时厕所的下水管道又冻住了,大便像蚂蚁丘一样堆积起来,人们只得从那个小台子上下来,把屎拉在地板上。于是它在地上冻住了,等待融化。到了星期四驼背推着他的小推车来了,用扫帚和一只盘子样的东西掀起这一摊摊又冷又硬的大便,然后拖着一条枯萎的腿用车子推走。走廊里扔满了手纸,像捕蝇纸一样粘在脚下。一俟天气转暖这气味便更浓,在四十英里外的温彻斯特都闻得到。早上拿着牙刷站在这一堆发酵成熟的大粪前,这股冲天臭气会使你的脑袋发晕。我们都穿着红色法兰绒衬衣站在旁边,等着轮到自己对着下水孔漱口。这很像威尔弟一出伟大歌剧中的一段抒情调—有滑车和罗网的砧琴合奏。夜里迫不急待要上厕所时,我便冲进勒桑塞尔先生的专用卫生间,它就在汽车道边上,north face outlet。我们的马桶上常常沾满了血,他的马桶也没有冲洗,Website,不过至少可以坐下来出恭。我把自己的一摊大便留给他,作为一种尊敬的表示。
The fog and snow, the cold latitude, the heavy learning, the blue coffee, the unbuttered bread, the soup and lentils, the heavy pork packer beans, the stale cheese, the soggy chow, the lousy wine have put the whole penitentiary into a state of constipation. And just when everyone has become shit tight the toilet pipes freeze. The shit piles up like ant hills; one has to move down from the little pedestals and leave it on the floor. It lies there stiff and frozen, waiting for the thaw. On Thursdays the hunchback comes with his little wheelbarrow, shovels the cold, stiff turds with a broom and pan, and trundles off dragging his withered leg. The corridors are littered with toilet paper; it sticks to your feet like flypaper. When the weather moderates the odor gets ripe; you can smell it in Winchester forty miles away. Standing over that ripe dung in the morning, with a toothbrush, the stench is so powerful that it makes your head spin. We stand around in red flannel shirts, waiting to spit down the hole; it is like an aria from one of Verdi's great operas - an anvil chorus with pulleys and syringes. In the night, when I am taken short, I rush down to the private toilet of M. le Censeur, just off the driveway. My stool is always full of blood. His toilet doesn't flush either but at least there is the pleasure of sitting down. I leave my little bundle for him as a token of esteem.
每天晚上饭快吃完时守夜人便进来同大家一起干杯,他是整个学校唯一一个我能引为同类的人。他是一个微不足道的人,提着一盏灯和一串钥匙。他整夜巡逻,像一部机器那样机械。大约到了把很陈的奶酪传递给大家的时候,他就会闯进来讨一杯酒喝。他站着伸出手来,Shipping Information,头发很坚硬,像一头大猎犬,面颊红润,胡须上沾着晶莹的雪。他咕哝了一句什么,那位卡西莫多便递给他酒瓶。他双脚牢牢地戳在地上,一扬脖子酒便下去了,只是缓缓地一大口便喝完了。我觉得他像是在把红酒灌下肚去,他的这个动作使我感动得不得了,他几乎是在喝下人类同情心的渣滓,仿佛世界上的爱与怜悯能这样一口喝干了事,仿佛日复一日这是唯一能挤压在一起的东西。他们已把他弄得连只兔子都不如了,在他们的筹划中他还抵不上胯青鱼用的盐水呢。他不过只是一堆行尸走肉,他自己也明白这一点。喝完酒后他环顾四周、朝我们微笑时这个世界好像四分五裂了,这是甩过一道深渊的微笑。整个发臭的文明世界像一块沼泽地一样处于这个深渊底部,这种犹犹豫豫的微笑像一座海市蜃楼一样在上面飘忽不定地摇曳。
Toward the end of the meal each evening the veilleur de nuit drops in for his bit of cheer. This is the only human being in the whole institution with whom I feel a kinship. He is a nobody. He carries a lantern and a bunch of keys. He makes the rounds through the night, stiff as an automaton. About the time the stale cheese is being passed around, in he pops for his glass of wine. He stands there, with paw outstretched, his hair stiff and wiry, like a mastiff's, his cheeks ruddy, his mustache gleaming with snow. He mumbles a word or two and Quasimodo brings him the bottle. Then, with feet solidly planted, he throws back his head and down it goes,Moncler Outlet Online Store, slowly in one long draught. To me it's like he's pouring rubies down his gullet. Something about this gesture which seizes me by the hair. It's almost as if he were drinking down the dregs of human sympathy, as if all the love and compassion in the world could be tossed off like that, in one gulp - as if that were all that could be squeezed together day after day. A little less than a rabbit they have made him. In the scheme of things he's not worth the brine to pickle a herring. He's just a piece of live manure. And he knows it. When he looks around after his drink and smiles at us, the world seems to be falling to pieces. It's a smile thrown across an abyss. The whole stinking civilized world lies like a quagmire at the bottom of the pit, and over it, like a mirage, hovers this wavering smile.
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