她倒在床上,大叉着双腿,用两只手捂着它又抚弄了一阵,同时还一直用粗哑的声音咕哝着,说它好、漂亮,是一件宝贝、一件小宝贝。不过她那个小玩艺儿也的确不错!那个星期日下午空气中弥漫着春天的有毒气味,一切都很圆满。走出旅馆时我在外面刺眼的光线下重新细细打量了她一番,清清楚楚地看清了她是怎样的一个婊子—金牙、帽子上插的天竺葵、踩塌下去的鞋跟,等等,等等。更有甚者,她从我这儿骗到了一顿饭吃、抽了我的烟、坐了我的出租车,可是这一切一点也没有使我气恼。老实讲,是我鼓励她这样干的。我十分喜欢她,于是吃完饭后我俩回到旅馆又睡了一次,这一回是”为了爱情”。她的大而多毛的玩艺儿又一次发挥了它的活力和魔力,对于我它也开始具有独立的生命了。这儿是杰曼,那儿是她毛茸茸的玩艺,我既爱杰曼同它一分为二,也爱她俩合二为一。Germaine was different. There was nothing to tell me so from her appearance. Nothing to distinguish her from the other trollops who met each afternoon and evening at the Café de l'Eléphant. As I say, it was a spring day and the few francs my wife had scraped up to cable me were jingling in my pocket. I had a sort of vague premonition that I would not reach the Bastille without being taken in tow by one of these buzzards. Sauntering along the boulevard I had noticed her verging toward me with that curious trot-about air of a whore and the run down heels and cheap jewelry and the pasty look of their kind which the rouge only accentuates. It was not difficult to come to terms with her. We sat in the back of the little tabac called L'Eléphant and talked it over quickly. In a few minutes we were in a five franc room on the Rue Amelot, the curtains drawn and the covers thrown back. She didn't rush things, Germaine. She sat on the bidet soaping herself and talked to me pleasantly about this and that; she liked the knickerbockers I was wearing. Très chic! she thought. They were once, but I had worn the seat out of them; fortunately the jacket covered my ass. As she stood up to dry herself, still talking to me pleasantly, suddenly she dropped the towel and, advancing toward me leisurely, she commenced rubbing her pussy affectionately, stroking it with her two hands, caressing it, patting it, patting it. There was something about her eloquence at that moment and the way she thrust that rosebush under my nose which remains unforgettable; she spoke of it as if it were some extraneous object which she had acquired at great cost, an object whose value had increased with time and which now she prized above everything in the world. Her words imbued it with a peculiar fragrance; it was no longer just her private organ, but a treasure, a magic, potent treasure, a God given thing - and none the less so because she traded it day in and day out for a few pieces of silver.可杰曼却与众不同,这从她的外貌上可看不出来,没有什么特征可以把她跟另外那伙每天下午和傍晚在大象咖啡厅碰头的妓女区别开。我刚才说过,这是春季的一天,我妻子积攒起来汇给我的那几个法郎在口袋里叮当乱响。我有一种模模糊糊的预感:到达巴士底广场之前我准会被一只秃鹰拖了去。沿着林荫大道漫步时,我早就注意到杰曼在朝我这边蹭,一副到处游荡看热闹的婊子派头。她的鞋跟塌下来,她戴着便宜的手饰,脸色发青,涂上胭脂反倒更显出妓女特有的青白色皮肤,同她谈妥条件并不难,我们坐在那家也叫作”大象”的小香烟店里很快便谈好了。几分钟后我们便在阿梅洛街上花五法郎租了一个房间。窗帘放下,床罩也掀到一边去了,她并不急于尽快了事,这位杰曼。她坐在坐浴盆上擦肥皂,一面愉快地跟我东拉西扯,说她喜欢我穿的灯笼短裤。她认为它”棒极了”!从前是的,不过我已经穿破了屁股坐的地方,幸亏靠外衣遮住屁股。她仍跟我愉快地说着话,起来擦干了身子,突兀地扔下毛巾朝我随随便便走过来。她开始热切地抚弄自己的下体,用两只手摸它、爱抚它、拍它。当时她滔滔不绝说话的劲头儿和把下体插到我鼻子底下这个动作至今仍使我难以忘怀。她谈到它时那种口气仿佛叫你觉得那玩艺凡是她花了大价钱买来的,身体以外的某件东西,这件东西的价值随着时间的推移在增加,现在她在这个世界上最宝贵的东西便莫过于它了。她的话赋予它一种奇妙的芬芳气味,它已不再只是她的下体,还是一件宝贝、一件魔物、一件极有魔力的宝贝、一件上帝赋予的礼物,而且并不因为她每天都用它换几个钱而丧失一点点魔力。

山东省,高考 It was a Sunday afternoon, much like this, when I first met Germaine. I was strolling along the Boulevard Beaumarchais, rich by a hundred francs or so which my wife had frantically cabled from America. There was a touch of spring in the sir, a poisonous, malefic spring that seemed to burst from the manholes. Night after night I had been coming back to this quarter, attracted by certain leprous streets which only revealed their sinister splendor when the light of day had oozed away and the whores commenced to take up their posts. The Rue du Pasteur Wagner is one I recall in particular, corner of the Rue Amelot which hides behind the boulevard like a slumbering lizard. Here, at the neck of the bottle, so to speak, there was always a cluster of vultures who croaked and flapped their dirty wings, who reached out with sharp talons and plucked you into a doorway. Jolly, rapacious devils who didn't even give you time to button your pants when it was over. Led you into a little room off the street, a room without a window usually, and, sitting on the edge of the bed with skirts tucked up gave you a quick inspection, spat on your cock, and placed it for you. While you washed yourself another one stood at the door and, holding her victim by the hand, watched nonchalantly as you gave the finishing touches to your toilet.At the City Nortier, somewhere near the Place du Combat, I pause a few minutes to drink in the full squalor of the scene. It is a rectangular court like many another which one glimpses through the low passageways that flank the old arteries of Paris. In the middle of the court is a clump of decrepit buildings which have so rotted away that they have collapsed on one another and formed a sort of intestinal embrace. The ground is uneven, the flagging slippery with slime. A sort of human dump heap which has been filled in with cinders and dry garbage. The sun is setting fast. The colors die. They shift from purple to dried blood, from nacre to bister, from cool dead grays to pigeon shit. Here and there a lopsided monster stands in the window blinking like an owl. There is the shrill squawk of children with pale faces and bony limbs, rickety little urchins marked with the forceps. A fetid odor seeps from the walls, the odor of a mildewed mattress. Europe - medieval, grotesque, monstrous: a symphony in B mol. Directly across the street the Ciné Combat offers its distinguished clientele Metropolis..

Coming away my mind reverts to a book that I was reading only the other day. "The town was a shambles; corpses, mangled by butchers and stripped by plunderers, lay thick in the streets; wolves sneaked from the suburbs to eat them; the black death and other plagues crept in to keep them company, and the English came marching on; the while the danse macabre whirled about the tombs in all the cemeteries…" Paris during the days of Charles the Silly! A lovely book! Refreshing, appetizing. I'm still enchanted by it. About the patrons and prodromes of the Renaissance I know little, but Madam Pimpernel, la belle boulangère, and Ma?tre Jehan Crapotte, l'orfèvre, these occupy my spare thoughts still. Not forgetting Rodin, the evil genius of The Wandering Jew, who practised his nefarious ways "until the day when he was enflamed and outwitted by the octoroon Cecily." Sitting in the Square du Temple, musing over the doings of the horse knackers led by Jean Caboche, I have thought long and ruefully over the sad fate of Charles the Silly. A half wit, who prowled about the halls of his H?tel St. Paul, garbed in the filthiest rags, eaten away by ulcers and vermin, gnawing a bone, when they flung him one, like a mangy dog. At the Rue des Lions I looked for the stones of the old menagerie where he once fed his pets. His only diversion, poor dolt, aside from those card games with his "low born companion," Odette de Champdivers.When some time later I came to write about Claude, it was not Claude that I was thinking of but Germaine… "All the men she's been with and now you, just you, and barges going by, masts and hulls, the whole damned current of life flowing through you, through her, through all the guys behind you and after you, the flowers and the birds and the sun streaming in and the fragrance of it choking you, annihilating you." That was for Germaine! Claude was not the same, though I admired her tremendously - I even thought for a while that I loved her. Claude had a soul and a conscience; she had refinement, too, which is b.

Germaine was different. There was nothing to tell me so from her appearance. Nothing to distinguish her from the other trollops who met each afternoon and evening at the Café de l'Eléphant. As I say, it was a spring day and the few francs my wife had scraped up to cable me were jingling in my pocket. I had a sort of vague premonition that I would not reach the Bastille without being taken in tow by one of these buzzards. Sauntering along the boulevard I had noticed her verging toward me with that curious trot-about air of a whore and the run down heels and cheap jewelry and the pasty look of their kind which the rouge only accentuates. It was not difficult to come to terms with her. We sat in the back of the little tabac called L'Eléphant and talked it over quickly. In a few minutes we were in a five franc room on the Rue Amelot, the curtains drawn and the covers thrown back. She didn't rush things, Germaine. She sat on the bidet soaping herself and talked to me pleasantly about this and that; she liked the knickerbockers I was wearing. Très chic! she thought. They were once, but I had worn the seat out of them; fortunately the jacket covered my ass. As she stood up to dry herself, still talking to me pleasantly, suddenly she dropped the towel and, advancing toward me leisurely, she commenced rubbing her pussy affectionately, stroking it with her two hands, caressing it, patting it, patting it. There was something about her eloquence at that moment and the way she thrust that rosebush under my nose which remains unforgettable; she spoke of it as if it were some extraneous object which she had acquired at great cost, an object whose value had increased with time and which now she prized above everything in the world. Her words imbued it with a peculiar fragrance; it was no longer just her private organ, but a treasure, a magic, potent treasure, a God given thing - and none the less so because she traded it day in and day out for a few pieces of silver.When some time later I came to write about Claude, it was not Claude that I was thinking of but Germaine… "All the men she's been with and now you, just you, and barges going by, masts and hulls, the whole damned current of life flowing through you, through her, through all the guys behind you and after you, the flowers and the birds and the sun streaming in and the fragrance of it choking you, annihilating you." That was for Germaine! Claude was not the same, though I admired her tremendously - I even thought for a while that I loved her. Claude had a soul and a conscience; she had refinement, too, which is bPart 3 Chapter 2  我刚才说过,杰曼是与众不同的。后来她发现了我的实际境况,便宽宏大度地待我—花很多钱请我喝酒、让我赊帐、帮我典当东西、把我介绍给她的朋友以及提供其它诸如此类的帮助。她还为没能借给我钱道歉,这我完全能理解,因为后来她把她的鸨母指给我看了。我每天夜里沿着博马舍林荫道来到那家小香烟店,妓女们都聚集在这儿。我等着她回来把她的宝贵时间匀给我几分钟。It was a Sunday afternoon, much like this, when I first met Germaine. I was strolling along the Boulevard Beaumarchais, rich by a hundred francs or so which my wife had frantically cabled from America. There was a touch of spring in the sir, a poisonous, malefic spring that seemed to burst from the manholes. Night after night I had been coming back to this quarter, attracted by certain leprous streets which only revealed their sinister splendor when the light of day had oozed away and the whores commenced to take up their posts. The Rue du Pasteur Wagner is one I recall in particular, corner of the Rue Amelot which hides behind the boulevard like a slumbering lizard. Here, at the neck of the bottle, so to speak, there was always a cluster of vultures who croaked and flapped their dirty wings, who reached out with sharp talons and plucked you into a doorway. Jolly, rapacious devils who didn't even give you time to button your pants when it was over. Led you into a little room off the street, a room without a window usually, and, sitting on the edge of the bed with skirts tucked up gave you a quick inspection, spat on your cock, and placed it for you. While you washed yourself another one stood at the door and, holding her victim by the hand, watched nonchalantly as you gave the finishing touches to your toilet.  后来当我提笔写克劳德时,我心里想的不是克劳德而是杰曼……”同她厮混过的全体男人和你,现在只有你了。船驶过去,桅杆和船身都过去了,人生的全部见鬼的激流从你身上流过,从她身上流过,从紧跟着你的所有家伙身上流过。鲜花、小鸟和阳光都涌进来,它们的芬芳香气将呛死你、毁灭你。”这是为杰曼写的。克劳德则是另一码事,尽管我也十分崇拜她,有一阵子我还自以为爱她呢。克劳德有灵魂,有良心,行为也高尚,最后这一点在一个婊子身上倒不是什么优点。克劳德总叫人认为她有几分悲哀,她显然是无意中给人留下这种印象的—你不过只是命运选派来毁灭她的那股水流中的一部分。我说了,她是无意的,因为她是全世界最不可能有意识地在别人心目中造成这样一种印象的女人。她腼腆、敏感,所以不会那么做。克劳德在本质上完全是一位具有中等教养与智力的很不错的法国姑娘。生活捉弄了她,她身上有种气质,这种气质不够强健,无法应付日常生活的刺激。路易?菲利普的那一番可怕的话正是说她的,”当某一夜来临时一切都完了,许多血盆大口朝我们逼来,我们再也无力直立。我们的肌肉从身上耷拉下来,仿佛已被每张嘴嚼烂了。”从另一方面看,杰曼是个天生的婊子,她对自己扮演的角色十二万分满意,实际上还很喜欢这活儿呢。没有什么是会使她感到不快的,除了有时肚子饿、鞋①路易。菲利普(1874一1909),法国作家。--译者子破这类不足挂齿的区区小事之外,无聊!这便是她的最大不快了。毫无疑问,她也曾有过嫖客过多的日子,但也是仅此而已。大部分时间里她喜欢这种生活,或者表现出喜欢的样子。这当然还是有区别的—跟谁出去,同谁回来,不过要紧的是男人。一个男人,这就是她梦寐以求的。一个两腿问有件东西的男人,那个东西要能使她欢悦,使她狂喜得身子乱扭一气,同时还要体验到两人已合为一体,体验到人生的乐趣,只有在那儿她才能体验到人生,即在她用双手捂住的部位。.

  在靠近竞技广场不远的北城区,我停了几分钟欣赏这片地方的脏乱景色。同人们在低低的、同巴黎的旧交通要道平行的走道里看到的许多广场一样,这个广场是长方形的。广场中央有一些又破又旧的建筑,衰败不堪,一座倒在另一座顶上,形成了像一团肠子一样的一堆东西。地面不平,铺地的石板上尽是脏东西,很滑,真像一堆混杂着炉渣和垃圾的人屎尿。太阳很快要落下去了,天空中的色彩也消失了,紫色变成干血色,青贝色变成褐色,黯淡的灰色变成鸽粪色。到处都有一个歪七扭八的怪物站在窗子上,像猫头鹰一样挤眼睛,脸色苍白、骨瘦如柴的孩子们发出刺耳的尖叫声,患佝偻病的小顽童头上往往有医生用钳子夹过的印痕。墙里渗出一股恶臭味,那是发霉的床垫味。欧洲,中世纪的、怪诞的、恐怖的欧洲—B-mol调的交响曲。街正对面的竞技影院给它的尊贵的顾客们提供了这个大都市的各种景观。At the City Nortier, somewhere near the Place du Combat, I pause a few minutes to drink in the full squalor of the scene. It is a rectangular court like many another which one glimpses through the low passageways that flank the old arteries of Paris. In the middle of the court is a clump of decrepit buildings which have so rotted away that they have collapsed on one another and formed a sort of intestinal embrace. The ground is uneven, the flagging slippery with slime. A sort of human dump heap which has been filled in with cinders and dry garbage. The sun is setting fast. The colors die. They shift from purple to dried blood, from nacre to bister, from cool dead grays to pigeon shit. Here and there a lopsided monster stands in the window blinking like an owl. There is the shrill squawk of children with pale faces and bony limbs, rickety little urchins marked with the forceps. A fetid odor seeps from the walls, the odor of a mildewed mattress. Europe - medieval, grotesque, monstrous: a symphony in B mol. Directly across the street the Ciné Combat offers its distinguished clientele Metropolis.  我刚才说过,杰曼是与众不同的。后来她发现了我的实际境况,便宽宏大度地待我—花很多钱请我喝酒、让我赊帐、帮我典当东西、把我介绍给她的朋友以及提供其它诸如此类的帮助。她还为没能借给我钱道歉,这我完全能理解,因为后来她把她的鸨母指给我看了。我每天夜里沿着博马舍林荫道来到那家小香烟店,妓女们都聚集在这儿。我等着她回来把她的宝贵时间匀给我几分钟。.

At the City Nortier, somewhere near the Place du Combat, I pause a few minutes to drink in the full squalor of the scene. It is a rectangular court like many another which one glimpses through the low passageways that flank the old arteries of Paris. In the middle of the court is a clump of decrepit buildings which have so rotted away that they have collapsed on one another and formed a sort of intestinal embrace. The ground is uneven, the flagging slippery with slime. A sort of human dump heap which has been filled in with cinders and dry garbage. The sun is setting fast. The colors die. They shift from purple to dried blood, from nacre to bister, from cool dead grays to pigeon shit. Here and there a lopsided monster stands in the window blinking like an owl. There is the shrill squawk of children with pale faces and bony limbs, rickety little urchins marked with the forceps. A fetid odor seeps from the walls, the odor of a mildewed mattress. Europe - medieval, grotesque, monstrous: a symphony in B mol. Directly across the street the Ciné Combat offers its distinguished clientele Metropolis.. read more

我头一回遇见杰曼也是在一个星期日的下午,同今天差不多。那天我正沿着博马舍林荫道散步,身上装着我妻子从美国赶忙寄来的一百多法郎,很阔气。天气已有点春天的意思了,一个有毒有害的春天似乎就要从街上的下水道出入孔溢出。我每天夜里都回到这儿来,因为这儿有几条患麻风病的街道吸引着我,它们要待白天的光亮渐渐消失、妓女们各就各位后才暴露出其邪恶的光辉。尤其令我印象深刻的是巴斯德一瓦格纳街,它就位于藏在林荫大道后面、像一条熟睡的蜥蜴似的阿梅洛特街角上。在这个瓶子颈里总聚集着一串秃鹰,她们哇哇叫着扇动肮脏的翅膀,她们伸出锋利的爪子把你抓进一个门里。她们全是一伙快活而又贪婪的魔鬼,完事之后连系裤子的时间都不给你。她们领你来到背街的一个小房间里,通常是没有窗子的房间,然后她们撩起裙子坐在床边上,很快查看你一番,朝你那玩艺上吐口唾沫便替你把它塞进去了。你还在洗身子时,另一个婊子便扯着她的猎物站在门口等着呢,她冷淡地望着你最后草草洗几下了事。It was a Sunday afternoon, much like this, when I first met Germaine. I was strolling along the Boulevard Beaumarchais, rich by a hundred francs or so which my wife had frantically cabled from America. There was a touch of spring in the sir, a poisonous, malefic spring that seemed to burst from the manholes. Night after night I had been coming back to this quarter, attracted by certain leprous streets which only revealed their sinister splendor when the light of day had oozed away and the whores commenced to take up their posts. The Rue du Pasteur Wagner is one I recall in particular, corner of the Rue Amelot which hides behind the boulevard like a slumbering lizard. Here, at the neck of the bottle, so to speak, there was always a cluster of vultures who croaked and flapped their dirty wings, who reached out with sharp talons and plucked you into a doorway. Jolly, rapacious devils who didn't even give you time to button your pants when it was over. Led you into a little room off the street, a room without a window usually, and, sitting on the edge of the bed with skirts tucked up gave you a quick inspection, spat on your cock, and placed it for you. While you washed yourself another one stood at the door and, holding her victim by the hand, watched nonchalantly as you gave the finishing touches to your toilet..

When some time later I came to write about Claude, it was not Claude that I was thinking of but Germaine… "All the men she's been with and now you, just you, and barges going by, masts and hulls, the whole damned current of life flowing through you, through her, through all the guys behind you and after you, the flowers and the birds and the sun streaming in and the fragrance of it choking you, annihilating you." That was for Germaine! Claude was not the same, though I admired her tremendously - I even thought for a while that I loved her. Claude had a soul and a conscience; she had refinement, too, which is bIt was a Sunday afternoon, much like this, when I first met Germaine. I was strolling along the Boulevard Beaumarchais, rich by a hundred francs or so which my wife had frantically cabled from America. There was a touch of spring in the sir, a poisonous, malefic spring that seemed to burst from the manholes. Night after night I had been coming back to this quarter, attracted by certain leprous streets which only revealed their sinister splendor when the light of day had oozed away and the whores commenced to take up their posts. The Rue du Pasteur Wagner is one I recall in particular, corner of the Rue Amelot which hides behind the boulevard like a slumbering lizard. Here, at the neck of the bottle, so to speak, there was always a cluster of vultures who croaked and flapped their dirty wings, who reached out with sharp talons and plucked you into a doorway. Jolly, rapacious devils who didn't even give you time to button your pants when it was over. Led you into a little room off the street, a room without a window usually, and, sitting on the edge of the bed with skirts tucked up gave you a quick inspection, spat on your cock, and placed it for you. While you washed yourself another one stood at the door and, holding her victim by the hand, watched nonchalantly as you gave the finishing touches to your toilet.How a man can wander about all day on an empty belly, and even get an erection once in a while, is one of those mysteries which are too easily explained by the "anatomists of the soul." On a Sunday afternoon, when the shutters are down and the proletariat possesses the street in a kind of dumb torpor, there are certain thoroughfares which remind one of nothing less than a big chancrous cock laid open longitudinally. And it is just these highways, the Rue St. Denis, for instance, or the Faubourg du Temple - which attract one irresistibly, much as in the old days, around Union Square or the upper reaches of the Bowery, one was drawn to the dime museums where in the show windows there were displayed wax reproductions of various organs of the body eaten away by syphilis and other venereal diseases. The city sprouts out like a huge organism diseased in every part, the beautiful thoroughfares only a little less repulsive because they have been drained of their pus..

How a man can wander about all day on an empty belly, and even get an erection once in a while, is one of those mysteries which are too easily explained by the "anatomists of the soul." On a Sunday afternoon, when the shutters are down and the proletariat possesses the street in a kind of dumb torpor, there are certain thoroughfares which remind one of nothing less than a big chancrous cock laid open longitudinally. And it is just these highways, the Rue St. Denis, for instance, or the Faubourg du Temple - which attract one irresistibly, much as in the old days, around Union Square or the upper reaches of the Bowery, one was drawn to the dime museums where in the show windows there were displayed wax reproductions of various organs of the body eaten away by syphilis and other venereal diseases. The city sprouts out like a huge organism diseased in every part, the beautiful thoroughfares only a little less repulsive because they have been drained of their pus.  一个人怎么能空着肚子四处乱逛一整天,而且还不时勃起一回?这是”灵魂剖析家”们能轻而易举解释清楚的秘密之一。 在一个星期日下午,百叶窗都放下来,无产阶级以一种麻木、呆滞的方式占领了街道。有几条大路纵向延伸出去,只会使人联想到一只下疳的大公鸡。而恰恰是这些大路有力地吸引着人们,例如圣德尼街或圣殿郊区。正如从前纽约市的联邦广场或是纽约曼哈顿的鲍里街前段,人们被引诱到简易博物馆来看橱窗内陈列的蜡制的、被梅毒和其他性病侵蚀的人体各个器官。巴黎像一个各处都患了病的巨大有机体向外延伸,这些美丽的大道相比之下不那么令人厌恶只是因为它们体内的脓已挤出去了。  一个人怎么能空着肚子四处乱逛一整天,而且还不时勃起一回?这是”灵魂剖析家”们能轻而易举解释清楚的秘密之一。 在一个星期日下午,百叶窗都放下来,无产阶级以一种麻木、呆滞的方式占领了街道。有几条大路纵向延伸出去,只会使人联想到一只下疳的大公鸡。而恰恰是这些大路有力地吸引着人们,例如圣德尼街或圣殿郊区。正如从前纽约市的联邦广场或是纽约曼哈顿的鲍里街前段,人们被引诱到简易博物馆来看橱窗内陈列的蜡制的、被梅毒和其他性病侵蚀的人体各个器官。巴黎像一个各处都患了病的巨大有机体向外延伸,这些美丽的大道相比之下不那么令人厌恶只是因为它们体内的脓已挤出去了。

It was a Sunday afternoon, much like this, when I first met Germaine. I was strolling along the Boulevard Beaumarchais, rich by a hundred francs or so which my wife had frantically cabled from America. There was a touch of spring in the sir, a poisonous, malefic spring that seemed to burst from the manholes. Night after night I had been coming back to this quarter, attracted by certain leprous streets which only revealed their sinister splendor when the light of day had oozed away and the whores commenced to take up their posts. The Rue du Pasteur Wagner is one I recall in particular, corner of the Rue Amelot which hides behind the boulevard like a slumbering lizard. Here, at the neck of the bottle, so to speak, there was always a cluster of vultures who croaked and flapped their dirty wings, who reached out with sharp talons and plucked you into a doorway. Jolly, rapacious devils who didn't even give you time to button your pants when it was over. Led you into a little room off the street, a room without a window usually, and, sitting on the edge of the bed with skirts tucked up gave you a quick inspection, spat on your cock, and placed it for you. While you washed yourself another one stood at the door and, holding her victim by the hand, watched nonchalantly as you gave the finishing touches to your toilet..

  在靠近竞技广场不远的北城区,我停了几分钟欣赏这片地方的脏乱景色。同人们在低低的、同巴黎的旧交通要道平行的走道里看到的许多广场一样,这个广场是长方形的。广场中央有一些又破又旧的建筑,衰败不堪,一座倒在另一座顶上,形成了像一团肠子一样的一堆东西。地面不平,铺地的石板上尽是脏东西,很滑,真像一堆混杂着炉渣和垃圾的人屎尿。太阳很快要落下去了,天空中的色彩也消失了,紫色变成干血色,青贝色变成褐色,黯淡的灰色变成鸽粪色。到处都有一个歪七扭八的怪物站在窗子上,像猫头鹰一样挤眼睛,脸色苍白、骨瘦如柴的孩子们发出刺耳的尖叫声,患佝偻病的小顽童头上往往有医生用钳子夹过的印痕。墙里渗出一股恶臭味,那是发霉的床垫味。欧洲,中世纪的、怪诞的、恐怖的欧洲—B-mol调的交响曲。街正对面的竞技影院给它的尊贵的顾客们提供了这个大都市的各种景观。  在靠近竞技广场不远的北城区,我停了几分钟欣赏这片地方的脏乱景色。同人们在低低的、同巴黎的旧交通要道平行的走道里看到的许多广场一样,这个广场是长方形的。广场中央有一些又破又旧的建筑,衰败不堪,一座倒在另一座顶上,形成了像一团肠子一样的一堆东西。地面不平,铺地的石板上尽是脏东西,很滑,真像一堆混杂着炉渣和垃圾的人屎尿。太阳很快要落下去了,天空中的色彩也消失了,紫色变成干血色,青贝色变成褐色,黯淡的灰色变成鸽粪色。到处都有一个歪七扭八的怪物站在窗子上,像猫头鹰一样挤眼睛,脸色苍白、骨瘦如柴的孩子们发出刺耳的尖叫声,患佝偻病的小顽童头上往往有医生用钳子夹过的印痕。墙里渗出一股恶臭味,那是发霉的床垫味。欧洲,中世纪的、怪诞的、恐怖的欧洲—B-mol调的交响曲。街正对面的竞技影院给它的尊贵的顾客们提供了这个大都市的各种景观。.

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  我刚才说过,杰曼是与众不同的。后来她发现了我的实际境况,便宽宏大度地待我—花很多钱请我喝酒、让我赊帐、帮我典当东西、把我介绍给她的朋友以及提供其它诸如此类的帮助。她还为没能借给我钱道歉,这我完全能理解,因为后来她把她的鸨母指给我看了。我每天夜里沿着博马舍林荫道来到那家小香烟店,妓女们都聚集在这儿。我等着她回来把她的宝贵时间匀给我几分钟。.

  她倒在床上,大叉着双腿,用两只手捂着它又抚弄了一阵,同时还一直用粗哑的声音咕哝着,说它好、漂亮,是一件宝贝、一件小宝贝。不过她那个小玩艺儿也的确不错!那个星期日下午空气中弥漫着春天的有毒气味,一切都很圆满。走出旅馆时我在外面刺眼的光线下重新细细打量了她一番,清清楚楚地看清了她是怎样的一个婊子—金牙、帽子上插的天竺葵、踩塌下去的鞋跟,等等,等等。更有甚者,她从我这儿骗到了一顿饭吃、抽了我的烟、坐了我的出租车,可是这一切一点也没有使我气恼。老实讲,是我鼓励她这样干的。我十分喜欢她,于是吃完饭后我俩回到旅馆又睡了一次,这一回是”为了爱情”。她的大而多毛的玩艺儿又一次发挥了它的活力和魔力,对于我它也开始具有独立的生命了。这儿是杰曼,那儿是她毛茸茸的玩艺,我既爱杰曼同它一分为二,也爱她俩合二为一。Germaine was different. There was nothing to tell me so from her appearance. Nothing to distinguish her from the other trollops who met each afternoon and evening at the Café de l'Eléphant. As I say, it was a spring day and the few francs my wife had scraped up to cable me were jingling in my pocket. I had a sort of vague premonition that I would not reach the Bastille without being taken in tow by one of these buzzards. Sauntering along the boulevard I had noticed her verging toward me with that curious trot-about air of a whore and the run down heels and cheap jewelry and the pasty look of their kind which the rouge only accentuates. It was not difficult to come to terms with her. We sat in the back of the little tabac called L'Eléphant and talked it over quickly. In a few minutes we were in a five franc room on the Rue Amelot, the curtains drawn and the covers thrown back. She didn't rush things, Germaine. She sat on the bidet soaping herself and talked to me pleasantly about this and that; she liked the knickerbockers I was wearing. Très chic! she thought. They were once, but I had worn the seat out of them; fortunately the jacket covered my ass. As she stood up to dry herself, still talking to me pleasantly, suddenly she dropped the towel and, advancing toward me leisurely, she commenced rubbing her pussy affectionately, stroking it with her two hands, caressing it, patting it, patting it. There was something about her eloquence at that moment and the way she thrust that rosebush under my nose which remains unforgettable; she spoke of it as if it were some extraneous object which she had acquired at great cost, an object whose value had increased with time and which now she prized above everything in the world. Her words imbued it with a peculiar fragrance; it was no longer just her private organ, but a treasure, a magic, potent treasure, a God given thing - and none the less so because she traded it day in and day out for a few pieces of silver.Coming away my mind reverts to a book that I was reading only the other day. "The town was a shambles; corpses, mangled by butchers and stripped by plunderers, lay thick in the streets; wolves sneaked from the suburbs to eat them; the black death and other plagues crept in to keep them company, and the English came marching on; the while the danse macabre whirled about the tombs in all the cemeteries…" Paris during the days of Charles the Silly! A lovely book! Refreshing, appetizing. I'm still enchanted by it. About the patrons and prodromes of the Renaissance I know little, but Madam Pimpernel, la belle boulangère, and Ma?tre Jehan Crapotte, l'orfèvre, these occupy my spare thoughts still. Not forgetting Rodin, the evil genius of The Wandering Jew, who practised his nefarious ways "until the day when he was enflamed and outwitted by the octoroon Cecily." Sitting in the Square du Temple, musing over the doings of the horse knackers led by Jean Caboche, I have thought long and ruefully over the sad fate of Charles the Silly. A half wit, who prowled about the halls of his H?tel St. Paul, garbed in the filthiest rags, eaten away by ulcers and vermin, gnawing a bone, when they flung him one, like a mangy dog. At the Rue des Lions I looked for the stones of the old menagerie where he once fed his pets. His only diversion, poor dolt, aside from those card games with his "low born companion," Odette de Champdivers..

At the City Nortier, somewhere near the Place du Combat, I pause a few minutes to drink in the full squalor of the scene. It is a rectangular court like many another which one glimpses through the low passageways that flank the old arteries of Paris. In the middle of the court is a clump of decrepit buildings which have so rotted away that they have collapsed on one another and formed a sort of intestinal embrace. The ground is uneven, the flagging slippery with slime. A sort of human dump heap which has been filled in with cinders and dry garbage. The sun is setting fast. The colors die. They shift from purple to dried blood, from nacre to bister, from cool dead grays to pigeon shit. Here and there a lopsided monster stands in the window blinking like an owl. There is the shrill squawk of children with pale faces and bony limbs, rickety little urchins marked with the forceps. A fetid odor seeps from the walls, the odor of a mildewed mattress. Europe - medieval, grotesque, monstrous: a symphony in B mol. Directly across the street the Ciné Combat offers its distinguished clientele Metropolis.How a man can wander about all day on an empty belly, and even get an erection once in a while, is one of those mysteries which are too easily explained by the "anatomists of the soul." On a Sunday afternoon, when the shutters are down and the proletariat possesses the street in a kind of dumb torpor, there are certain thoroughfares which remind one of nothing less than a big chancrous cock laid open longitudinally. And it is just these highways, the Rue St. Denis, for instance, or the Faubourg du Temple - which attract one irresistibly, much as in the old days, around Union Square or the upper reaches of the Bowery, one was drawn to the dime museums where in the show windows there were displayed wax reproductions of various organs of the body eaten away by syphilis and other venereal diseases. The city sprouts out like a huge organism diseased in every part, the beautiful thoroughfares only a little less repulsive because they have been drained of their pus.At the City Nortier, somewhere near the Place du Combat, I pause a few minutes to drink in the full squalor of the scene. It is a rectangular court like many another which one glimpses through the low passageways that flank the old arteries of Paris. In the middle of the court is a clump of decrepit buildings which have so rotted away that they have collapsed on one another and formed a sort of intestinal embrace. The ground is uneven, the flagging slippery with slime. A sort of human dump heap which has been filled in with cinders and dry garbage. The sun is setting fast. The colors die. They shift from purple to dried blood, from nacre to bister, from cool dead grays to pigeon shit. Here and there a lopsided monster stands in the window blinking like an owl. There is the shrill squawk of children with pale faces and bony limbs, rickety little urchins marked with the forceps. A fetid odor seeps from the walls, the odor of a mildewed mattress. Europe - medieval, grotesque, monstrous: a symphony in B mol. Directly across the street the Ciné Combat offers its distinguished clientele Metropolis..

  我刚才说过,杰曼是与众不同的。后来她发现了我的实际境况,便宽宏大度地待我—花很多钱请我喝酒、让我赊帐、帮我典当东西、把我介绍给她的朋友以及提供其它诸如此类的帮助。她还为没能借给我钱道歉,这我完全能理解,因为后来她把她的鸨母指给我看了。我每天夜里沿着博马舍林荫道来到那家小香烟店,妓女们都聚集在这儿。我等着她回来把她的宝贵时间匀给我几分钟。It was a Sunday afternoon, much like this, when I first met Germaine. I was strolling along the Boulevard Beaumarchais, rich by a hundred francs or so which my wife had frantically cabled from America. There was a touch of spring in the sir, a poisonous, malefic spring that seemed to burst from the manholes. Night after night I had been coming back to this quarter, attracted by certain leprous streets which only revealed their sinister splendor when the light of day had oozed away and the whores commenced to take up their posts. The Rue du Pasteur Wagner is one I recall in particular, corner of the Rue Amelot which hides behind the boulevard like a slumbering lizard. Here, at the neck of the bottle, so to speak, there was always a cluster of vultures who croaked and flapped their dirty wings, who reached out with sharp talons and plucked you into a doorway. Jolly, rapacious devils who didn't even give you time to button your pants when it was over. Led you into a little room off the street, a room without a window usually, and, sitting on the edge of the bed with skirts tucked up gave you a quick inspection, spat on your cock, and placed it for you. While you washed yourself another one stood at the door and, holding her victim by the hand, watched nonchalantly as you gave the finishing touches to your toilet.  一个人怎么能空着肚子四处乱逛一整天,而且还不时勃起一回?这是”灵魂剖析家”们能轻而易举解释清楚的秘密之一。 在一个星期日下午,百叶窗都放下来,无产阶级以一种麻木、呆滞的方式占领了街道。有几条大路纵向延伸出去,只会使人联想到一只下疳的大公鸡。而恰恰是这些大路有力地吸引着人们,例如圣德尼街或圣殿郊区。正如从前纽约市的联邦广场或是纽约曼哈顿的鲍里街前段,人们被引诱到简易博物馆来看橱窗内陈列的蜡制的、被梅毒和其他性病侵蚀的人体各个器官。巴黎像一个各处都患了病的巨大有机体向外延伸,这些美丽的大道相比之下不那么令人厌恶只是因为它们体内的脓已挤出去了。  一个人怎么能空着肚子四处乱逛一整天,而且还不时勃起一回?这是”灵魂剖析家”们能轻而易举解释清楚的秘密之一。 在一个星期日下午,百叶窗都放下来,无产阶级以一种麻木、呆滞的方式占领了街道。有几条大路纵向延伸出去,只会使人联想到一只下疳的大公鸡。而恰恰是这些大路有力地吸引着人们,例如圣德尼街或圣殿郊区。正如从前纽约市的联邦广场或是纽约曼哈顿的鲍里街前段,人们被引诱到简易博物馆来看橱窗内陈列的蜡制的、被梅毒和其他性病侵蚀的人体各个器官。巴黎像一个各处都患了病的巨大有机体向外延伸,这些美丽的大道相比之下不那么令人厌恶只是因为它们体内的脓已挤出去了。At the City Nortier, somewhere near the Place du Combat, I pause a few minutes to drink in the full squalor of the scene. It is a rectangular court like many another which one glimpses through the low passageways that flank the old arteries of Paris. In the middle of the court is a clump of decrepit buildings which have so rotted away that they have collapsed on one another and formed a sort of intestinal embrace. The ground is uneven, the flagging slippery with slime. A sort of human dump heap which has been filled in with cinders and dry garbage. The sun is setting fast. The colors die. They shift from purple to dried blood, from nacre to bister, from cool dead grays to pigeon shit. Here and there a lopsided monster stands in the window blinking like an owl. There is the shrill squawk of children with pale faces and bony limbs, rickety little urchins marked with the forceps. A fetid odor seeps from the walls, the odor of a mildewed mattress. Europe - medieval, grotesque, monstrous: a symphony in B mol. Directly across the street the Ciné Combat offers its distinguished clientele Metropolis.When some time later I came to write about Claude, it was not Claude that I was thinking of but Germaine… "All the men she's been with and now you, just you, and barges going by, masts and hulls, the whole damned current of life flowing through you, through her, through all the guys behind you and after you, the flowers and the birds and the sun streaming in and the fragrance of it choking you, annihilating you." That was for Germaine! Claude was not the same, though I admired her tremendously - I even thought for a while that I loved her. Claude had a soul and a conscience; she had refinement, too, which is b.

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IAs I say, she was different, Germaine. Later, when she discovered my true circumstances, she treated me nobly - blew me to drinks, gave me credit, pawned my things, introduced me to her friends, and so on. She even apologized for not lending me money, which I understood quite well after her maquereau had been pointed out to me. Night after night I walked down the Boulevard Beaumarchais to the little tabac where they all congregated and I waited for her to stroll in and give me a few minutes of her precious time.我头一回遇见杰曼也是在一个星期日的下午,同今天差不多。那天我正沿着博马舍林荫道散步,身上装着我妻子从美国赶忙寄来的一百多法郎,很阔气。天气已有点春天的意思了,一个有毒有害的春天似乎就要从街上的下水道出入孔溢出。我每天夜里都回到这儿来,因为这儿有几条患麻风病的街道吸引着我,它们要待白天的光亮渐渐消失、妓女们各就各位后才暴露出其邪恶的光辉。尤其令我印象深刻的是巴斯德一瓦格纳街,它就位于藏在林荫大道后面、像一条熟睡的蜥蜴似的阿梅洛特街角上。在这个瓶子颈里总聚集着一串秃鹰,她们哇哇叫着扇动肮脏的翅膀,她们伸出锋利的爪子把你抓进一个门里。她们全是一伙快活而又贪婪的魔鬼,完事之后连系裤子的时间都不给你。她们领你来到背街的一个小房间里,通常是没有窗子的房间,然后她们撩起裙子坐在床边上,很快查看你一番,朝你那玩艺上吐口唾沫便替你把它塞进去了。你还在洗身子时,另一个婊子便扯着她的猎物站在门口等着呢,她冷淡地望着你最后草草洗几下了事。As she flung herself on the bed, with legs spread wide apart, she cupped it with her hands and stroked it some more, murmuring all the while in that hoarse, cracked voice of hers that it was good, beautiful, a treasure, a little treasure. And it was good, that little pussy of hers! That Sunday afternoon, with its poisonous breath of spring in the air, everything clicked again. As we stepped out of the hotel I looked her over again in the harsh light of day and I saw clearly what a whore she was - the gold teeth, the geranium in her hat, the run-down heels, etc., etc. Even the fact that she had wormed a dinner out of me and cigarettes and taxi hadn't the least disturbing effect upon me. I encouraged it, in fact. I liked her so well that after dinner we went back to the hotel again and took another shot at it. "For love," this time. And again that big, bushy thing of hers worked its bloom and magic. It began to have an independent existence - for me too. There was Germaine and there was that rose bush of hers. I liked them separately and I liked them together.  在靠近竞技广场不远的北城区,我停了几分钟欣赏这片地方的脏乱景色。同人们在低低的、同巴黎的旧交通要道平行的走道里看到的许多广场一样,这个广场是长方形的。广场中央有一些又破又旧的建筑,衰败不堪,一座倒在另一座顶上,形成了像一团肠子一样的一堆东西。地面不平,铺地的石板上尽是脏东西,很滑,真像一堆混杂着炉渣和垃圾的人屎尿。太阳很快要落下去了,天空中的色彩也消失了,紫色变成干血色,青贝色变成褐色,黯淡的灰色变成鸽粪色。到处都有一个歪七扭八的怪物站在窗子上,像猫头鹰一样挤眼睛,脸色苍白、骨瘦如柴的孩子们发出刺耳的尖叫声,患佝偻病的小顽童头上往往有医生用钳子夹过的印痕。墙里渗出一股恶臭味,那是发霉的床垫味。欧洲,中世纪的、怪诞的、恐怖的欧洲—B-mol调的交响曲。街正对面的竞技影院给它的尊贵的顾客们提供了这个大都市的各种景观。.

  她倒在床上,大叉着双腿,用两只手捂着它又抚弄了一阵,同时还一直用粗哑的声音咕哝着,说它好、漂亮,是一件宝贝、一件小宝贝。不过她那个小玩艺儿也的确不错!那个星期日下午空气中弥漫着春天的有毒气味,一切都很圆满。走出旅馆时我在外面刺眼的光线下重新细细打量了她一番,清清楚楚地看清了她是怎样的一个婊子—金牙、帽子上插的天竺葵、踩塌下去的鞋跟,等等,等等。更有甚者,她从我这儿骗到了一顿饭吃、抽了我的烟、坐了我的出租车,可是这一切一点也没有使我气恼。老实讲,是我鼓励她这样干的。我十分喜欢她,于是吃完饭后我俩回到旅馆又睡了一次,这一回是”为了爱情”。她的大而多毛的玩艺儿又一次发挥了它的活力和魔力,对于我它也开始具有独立的生命了。这儿是杰曼,那儿是她毛茸茸的玩艺,我既爱杰曼同它一分为二,也爱她俩合二为一。我头一回遇见杰曼也是在一个星期日的下午,同今天差不多。那天我正沿着博马舍林荫道散步,身上装着我妻子从美国赶忙寄来的一百多法郎,很阔气。天气已有点春天的意思了,一个有毒有害的春天似乎就要从街上的下水道出入孔溢出。我每天夜里都回到这儿来,因为这儿有几条患麻风病的街道吸引着我,它们要待白天的光亮渐渐消失、妓女们各就各位后才暴露出其邪恶的光辉。尤其令我印象深刻的是巴斯德一瓦格纳街,它就位于藏在林荫大道后面、像一条熟睡的蜥蜴似的阿梅洛特街角上。在这个瓶子颈里总聚集着一串秃鹰,她们哇哇叫着扇动肮脏的翅膀,她们伸出锋利的爪子把你抓进一个门里。她们全是一伙快活而又贪婪的魔鬼,完事之后连系裤子的时间都不给你。她们领你来到背街的一个小房间里,通常是没有窗子的房间,然后她们撩起裙子坐在床边上,很快查看你一番,朝你那玩艺上吐口唾沫便替你把它塞进去了。你还在洗身子时,另一个婊子便扯着她的猎物站在门口等着呢,她冷淡地望着你最后草草洗几下了事。我头一回遇见杰曼也是在一个星期日的下午,同今天差不多。那天我正沿着博马舍林荫道散步,身上装着我妻子从美国赶忙寄来的一百多法郎,很阔气。天气已有点春天的意思了,一个有毒有害的春天似乎就要从街上的下水道出入孔溢出。我每天夜里都回到这儿来,因为这儿有几条患麻风病的街道吸引着我,它们要待白天的光亮渐渐消失、妓女们各就各位后才暴露出其邪恶的光辉。尤其令我印象深刻的是巴斯德一瓦格纳街,它就位于藏在林荫大道后面、像一条熟睡的蜥蜴似的阿梅洛特街角上。在这个瓶子颈里总聚集着一串秃鹰,她们哇哇叫着扇动肮脏的翅膀,她们伸出锋利的爪子把你抓进一个门里。她们全是一伙快活而又贪婪的魔鬼,完事之后连系裤子的时间都不给你。她们领你来到背街的一个小房间里,通常是没有窗子的房间,然后她们撩起裙子坐在床边上,很快查看你一番,朝你那玩艺上吐口唾沫便替你把它塞进去了。你还在洗身子时,另一个婊子便扯着她的猎物站在门口等着呢,她冷淡地望着你最后草草洗几下了事。As I say, she was different, Germaine. Later, when she discovered my true circumstances, she treated me nobly - blew me to drinks, gave me credit, pawned my things, introduced me to her friends, and so on. She even apologized for not lending me money, which I understood quite well after her maquereau had been pointed out to me. Night after night I walked down the Boulevard Beaumarchais to the little tabac where they all congregated and I waited for her to stroll in and give me a few minutes of her precious time.  走开时我又重新忆起那天看过的一本书。”这座城是一个屠宰场,尸体同屠夫混杂在一起,又被盗贼剥得精光,一层层躺在街上。狼从郊区悄悄溜进来吃他们,黑死病和其他瘟疫也来跟它们为伍,英国人也大踏步赶来。与此同时,死亡之舞在所有墓地的坟堆间旋转……”这书讲的是”愚蠢的查理”时代的巴黎轶事!一本可爱的书!看过后使人精神振奋、胃口大开,我至今仍为它着迷,我对文艺复兴时期的倡导人和先驱者知道的不多,不过对漂亮的面包师平博荷耐福夫人和让?卡波特大师这两人至今记忆犹新,一有空便想起他们。我也忘不了罗丹这个《流浪的犹太人》中的邪恶天才。他无法无天地胡作非为,”直到有一天被有八分之一黑人血统的塞西莉激怒并且智龋”坐在圣殿广场,冥想让? 卡博什手下屠宰老弱马匹的人的所做所为,我久久悲哀地想着”愚蠢的查理”的悲惨命运。他是一个智力不健全的人,在他的圣保罗旅馆大厅里转来转去,穿的是最脏最臭的破衣服,溃疡和害虫侵蚀着他的健康。别人丢给他一根骨头,他便像一条癫皮狗一样去啃。我在狮子街寻找从前兽栏的石头,他过去曾在这儿喂宠物,这是除了同他”出身低贱的伙伴”奥代特?德?尚帕狄丰打牌以外的唯一消遣。这可怜的傻子。.

sters, sweetbreads. Some day, when I'm standing at the corner of 42nd Street and Broadway, I'm going to remember this title and I'm going to put down everything that goes on in my noodle - caviar, rain drops, axle grease, vermicelli, liverwurst - slices and slices of it. And I'll tell no one why, after I had put everything down, I suddenly went home and chopped the baby to pieces. Un acte gratuit pour vous, cher monsieur si bien coupé en tranches!It was a Sunday afternoon, much like this, when I first met Germaine. I was strolling along the Boulevard Beaumarchais, rich by a hundred francs or so which my wife had frantically cabled from America. There was a touch of spring in the sir, a poisonous, malefic spring that seemed to burst from the manholes. Night after night I had been coming back to this quarter, attracted by certain leprous streets which only revealed their sinister splendor when the light of day had oozed away and the whores commenced to take up their posts. The Rue du Pasteur Wagner is one I recall in particular, corner of the Rue Amelot which hides behind the boulevard like a slumbering lizard. Here, at the neck of the bottle, so to speak, there was always a cluster of vultures who croaked and flapped their dirty wings, who reached out with sharp talons and plucked you into a doorway. Jolly, rapacious devils who didn't even give you time to button your pants when it was over. Led you into a little room off the street, a room without a window usually, and, sitting on the edge of the bed with skirts tucked up gave you a quick inspection, spat on your cock, and placed it for you. While you washed yourself another one stood at the door and, holding her victim by the hand, watched nonchalantly as you gave the finishing touches to your toilet.  后来当我提笔写克劳德时,我心里想的不是克劳德而是杰曼……”同她厮混过的全体男人和你,现在只有你了。船驶过去,桅杆和船身都过去了,人生的全部见鬼的激流从你身上流过,从她身上流过,从紧跟着你的所有家伙身上流过。鲜花、小鸟和阳光都涌进来,它们的芬芳香气将呛死你、毁灭你。”这是为杰曼写的。克劳德则是另一码事,尽管我也十分崇拜她,有一阵子我还自以为爱她呢。克劳德有灵魂,有良心,行为也高尚,最后这一点在一个婊子身上倒不是什么优点。克劳德总叫人认为她有几分悲哀,她显然是无意中给人留下这种印象的—你不过只是命运选派来毁灭她的那股水流中的一部分。我说了,她是无意的,因为她是全世界最不可能有意识地在别人心目中造成这样一种印象的女人。她腼腆、敏感,所以不会那么做。克劳德在本质上完全是一位具有中等教养与智力的很不错的法国姑娘。生活捉弄了她,她身上有种气质,这种气质不够强健,无法应付日常生活的刺激。路易?菲利普的那一番可怕的话正是说她的,”当某一夜来临时一切都完了,许多血盆大口朝我们逼来,我们再也无力直立。我们的肌肉从身上耷拉下来,仿佛已被每张嘴嚼烂了。”从另一方面看,杰曼是个天生的婊子,她对自己扮演的角色十二万分满意,实际上还很喜欢这活儿呢。没有什么是会使她感到不快的,除了有时肚子饿、鞋①路易。菲利普(1874一1909),法国作家。--译者子破这类不足挂齿的区区小事之外,无聊!这便是她的最大不快了。毫无疑问,她也曾有过嫖客过多的日子,但也是仅此而已。大部分时间里她喜欢这种生活,或者表现出喜欢的样子。这当然还是有区别的—跟谁出去,同谁回来,不过要紧的是男人。一个男人,这就是她梦寐以求的。一个两腿问有件东西的男人,那个东西要能使她欢悦,使她狂喜得身子乱扭一气,同时还要体验到两人已合为一体,体验到人生的乐趣,只有在那儿她才能体验到人生,即在她用双手捂住的部位。  走开时我又重新忆起那天看过的一本书。”这座城是一个屠宰场,尸体同屠夫混杂在一起,又被盗贼剥得精光,一层层躺在街上。狼从郊区悄悄溜进来吃他们,黑死病和其他瘟疫也来跟它们为伍,英国人也大踏步赶来。与此同时,死亡之舞在所有墓地的坟堆间旋转……”这书讲的是”愚蠢的查理”时代的巴黎轶事!一本可爱的书!看过后使人精神振奋、胃口大开,我至今仍为它着迷,我对文艺复兴时期的倡导人和先驱者知道的不多,不过对漂亮的面包师平博荷耐福夫人和让?卡波特大师这两人至今记忆犹新,一有空便想起他们。我也忘不了罗丹这个《流浪的犹太人》中的邪恶天才。他无法无天地胡作非为,”直到有一天被有八分之一黑人血统的塞西莉激怒并且智龋”坐在圣殿广场,冥想让? 卡博什手下屠宰老弱马匹的人的所做所为,我久久悲哀地想着”愚蠢的查理”的悲惨命运。他是一个智力不健全的人,在他的圣保罗旅馆大厅里转来转去,穿的是最脏最臭的破衣服,溃疡和害虫侵蚀着他的健康。别人丢给他一根骨头,他便像一条癫皮狗一样去啃。我在狮子街寻找从前兽栏的石头,他过去曾在这儿喂宠物,这是除了同他”出身低贱的伙伴”奥代特?德?尚帕狄丰打牌以外的唯一消遣。这可怜的傻子。.

  走开时我又重新忆起那天看过的一本书。”这座城是一个屠宰场,尸体同屠夫混杂在一起,又被盗贼剥得精光,一层层躺在街上。狼从郊区悄悄溜进来吃他们,黑死病和其他瘟疫也来跟它们为伍,英国人也大踏步赶来。与此同时,死亡之舞在所有墓地的坟堆间旋转……”这书讲的是”愚蠢的查理”时代的巴黎轶事!一本可爱的书!看过后使人精神振奋、胃口大开,我至今仍为它着迷,我对文艺复兴时期的倡导人和先驱者知道的不多,不过对漂亮的面包师平博荷耐福夫人和让?卡波特大师这两人至今记忆犹新,一有空便想起他们。我也忘不了罗丹这个《流浪的犹太人》中的邪恶天才。他无法无天地胡作非为,”直到有一天被有八分之一黑人血统的塞西莉激怒并且智龋”坐在圣殿广场,冥想让? 卡博什手下屠宰老弱马匹的人的所做所为,我久久悲哀地想着”愚蠢的查理”的悲惨命运。他是一个智力不健全的人,在他的圣保罗旅馆大厅里转来转去,穿的是最脏最臭的破衣服,溃疡和害虫侵蚀着他的健康。别人丢给他一根骨头,他便像一条癫皮狗一样去啃。我在狮子街寻找从前兽栏的石头,他过去曾在这儿喂宠物,这是除了同他”出身低贱的伙伴”奥代特?德?尚帕狄丰打牌以外的唯一消遣。这可怜的傻子。  在靠近竞技广场不远的北城区,我停了几分钟欣赏这片地方的脏乱景色。同人们在低低的、同巴黎的旧交通要道平行的走道里看到的许多广场一样,这个广场是长方形的。广场中央有一些又破又旧的建筑,衰败不堪,一座倒在另一座顶上,形成了像一团肠子一样的一堆东西。地面不平,铺地的石板上尽是脏东西,很滑,真像一堆混杂着炉渣和垃圾的人屎尿。太阳很快要落下去了,天空中的色彩也消失了,紫色变成干血色,青贝色变成褐色,黯淡的灰色变成鸽粪色。到处都有一个歪七扭八的怪物站在窗子上,像猫头鹰一样挤眼睛,脸色苍白、骨瘦如柴的孩子们发出刺耳的尖叫声,患佝偻病的小顽童头上往往有医生用钳子夹过的印痕。墙里渗出一股恶臭味,那是发霉的床垫味。欧洲,中世纪的、怪诞的、恐怖的欧洲—B-mol调的交响曲。街正对面的竞技影院给它的尊贵的顾客们提供了这个大都市的各种景观。When some time later I came to write about Claude, it was not Claude that I was thinking of but Germaine… "All the men she's been with and now you, just you, and barges going by, masts and hulls, the whole damned current of life flowing through you, through her, through all the guys behind you and after you, the flowers and the birds and the sun streaming in and the fragrance of it choking you, annihilating you." That was for Germaine! Claude was not the same, though I admired her tremendously - I even thought for a while that I loved her. Claude had a soul and a conscience; she had refinement, too, which is b  一个人怎么能空着肚子四处乱逛一整天,而且还不时勃起一回?这是”灵魂剖析家”们能轻而易举解释清楚的秘密之一。 在一个星期日下午,百叶窗都放下来,无产阶级以一种麻木、呆滞的方式占领了街道。有几条大路纵向延伸出去,只会使人联想到一只下疳的大公鸡。而恰恰是这些大路有力地吸引着人们,例如圣德尼街或圣殿郊区。正如从前纽约市的联邦广场或是纽约曼哈顿的鲍里街前段,人们被引诱到简易博物馆来看橱窗内陈列的蜡制的、被梅毒和其他性病侵蚀的人体各个器官。巴黎像一个各处都患了病的巨大有机体向外延伸,这些美丽的大道相比之下不那么令人厌恶只是因为它们体内的脓已挤出去了。.

As I say, she was different, Germaine. Later, when she discovered my true circumstances, she treated me nobly - blew me to drinks, gave me credit, pawned my things, introduced me to her friends, and so on. She even apologized for not lending me money, which I understood quite well after her maquereau had been pointed out to me. Night after night I walked down the Boulevard Beaumarchais to the little tabac where they all congregated and I waited for her to stroll in and give me a few minutes of her precious time.As I say, she was different, Germaine. Later, when she discovered my true circumstances, she treated me nobly - blew me to drinks, gave me credit, pawned my things, introduced me to her friends, and so on. She even apologized for not lending me money, which I understood quite well after her maquereau had been pointed out to me. Night after night I walked down the Boulevard Beaumarchais to the little tabac where they all congregated and I waited for her to stroll in and give me a few minutes of her precious time.Germaine was different. There was nothing to tell me so from her appearance. Nothing to distinguish her from the other trollops who met each afternoon and evening at the Café de l'Eléphant. As I say, it was a spring day and the few francs my wife had scraped up to cable me were jingling in my pocket. I had a sort of vague premonition that I would not reach the Bastille without being taken in tow by one of these buzzards. Sauntering along the boulevard I had noticed her verging toward me with that curious trot-about air of a whore and the run down heels and cheap jewelry and the pasty look of their kind which the rouge only accentuates. It was not difficult to come to terms with her. We sat in the back of the little tabac called L'Eléphant and talked it over quickly. In a few minutes we were in a five franc room on the Rue Amelot, the curtains drawn and the covers thrown back. She didn't rush things, Germaine. She sat on the bidet soaping herself and talked to me pleasantly about this and that; she liked the knickerbockers I was wearing. Très chic! she thought. They were once, but I had worn the seat out of them; fortunately the jacket covered my ass. As she stood up to dry herself, still talking to me pleasantly, suddenly she dropped the towel and, advancing toward me leisurely, she commenced rubbing her pussy affectionately, stroking it with her two hands, caressing it, patting it, patting it. There was something about her eloquence at that moment and the way she thrust that rosebush under my nose which remains unforgettable; she spoke of it as if it were some extraneous object which she had acquired at great cost, an object whose value had increased with time and which now she prized above everything in the world. Her words imbued it with a peculiar fragrance; it was no longer just her private organ, but a treasure, a magic, potent treasure, a God given thing - and none the less so because she traded it day in and day out for a few pieces of silver.  她倒在床上,大叉着双腿,用两只手捂着它又抚弄了一阵,同时还一直用粗哑的声音咕哝着,说它好、漂亮,是一件宝贝、一件小宝贝。不过她那个小玩艺儿也的确不错!那个星期日下午空气中弥漫着春天的有毒气味,一切都很圆满。走出旅馆时我在外面刺眼的光线下重新细细打量了她一番,清清楚楚地看清了她是怎样的一个婊子—金牙、帽子上插的天竺葵、踩塌下去的鞋跟,等等,等等。更有甚者,她从我这儿骗到了一顿饭吃、抽了我的烟、坐了我的出租车,可是这一切一点也没有使我气恼。老实讲,是我鼓励她这样干的。我十分喜欢她,于是吃完饭后我俩回到旅馆又睡了一次,这一回是”为了爱情”。她的大而多毛的玩艺儿又一次发挥了它的活力和魔力,对于我它也开始具有独立的生命了。这儿是杰曼,那儿是她毛茸茸的玩艺,我既爱杰曼同它一分为二,也爱她俩合二为一。  走开时我又重新忆起那天看过的一本书。”这座城是一个屠宰场,尸体同屠夫混杂在一起,又被盗贼剥得精光,一层层躺在街上。狼从郊区悄悄溜进来吃他们,黑死病和其他瘟疫也来跟它们为伍,英国人也大踏步赶来。与此同时,死亡之舞在所有墓地的坟堆间旋转……”这书讲的是”愚蠢的查理”时代的巴黎轶事!一本可爱的书!看过后使人精神振奋、胃口大开,我至今仍为它着迷,我对文艺复兴时期的倡导人和先驱者知道的不多,不过对漂亮的面包师平博荷耐福夫人和让?卡波特大师这两人至今记忆犹新,一有空便想起他们。我也忘不了罗丹这个《流浪的犹太人》中的邪恶天才。他无法无天地胡作非为,”直到有一天被有八分之一黑人血统的塞西莉激怒并且智龋”坐在圣殿广场,冥想让? 卡博什手下屠宰老弱马匹的人的所做所为,我久久悲哀地想着”愚蠢的查理”的悲惨命运。他是一个智力不健全的人,在他的圣保罗旅馆大厅里转来转去,穿的是最脏最臭的破衣服,溃疡和害虫侵蚀着他的健康。别人丢给他一根骨头,他便像一条癫皮狗一样去啃。我在狮子街寻找从前兽栏的石头,他过去曾在这儿喂宠物,这是除了同他”出身低贱的伙伴”奥代特?德?尚帕狄丰打牌以外的唯一消遣。这可怜的傻子。.

As she flung herself on the bed, with legs spread wide apart, she cupped it with her hands and stroked it some more, murmuring all the while in that hoarse, cracked voice of hers that it was good, beautiful, a treasure, a little treasure. And it was good, that little pussy of hers! That Sunday afternoon, with its poisonous breath of spring in the air, everything clicked again. As we stepped out of the hotel I looked her over again in the harsh light of day and I saw clearly what a whore she was - the gold teeth, the geranium in her hat, the run-down heels, etc., etc. Even the fact that she had wormed a dinner out of me and cigarettes and taxi hadn't the least disturbing effect upon me. I encouraged it, in fact. I liked her so well that after dinner we went back to the hotel again and took another shot at it. "For love," this time. And again that big, bushy thing of hers worked its bloom and magic. It began to have an independent existence - for me too. There was Germaine and there was that rose bush of hers. I liked them separately and I liked them together.  她倒在床上,大叉着双腿,用两只手捂着它又抚弄了一阵,同时还一直用粗哑的声音咕哝着,说它好、漂亮,是一件宝贝、一件小宝贝。不过她那个小玩艺儿也的确不错!那个星期日下午空气中弥漫着春天的有毒气味,一切都很圆满。走出旅馆时我在外面刺眼的光线下重新细细打量了她一番,清清楚楚地看清了她是怎样的一个婊子—金牙、帽子上插的天竺葵、踩塌下去的鞋跟,等等,等等。更有甚者,她从我这儿骗到了一顿饭吃、抽了我的烟、坐了我的出租车,可是这一切一点也没有使我气恼。老实讲,是我鼓励她这样干的。我十分喜欢她,于是吃完饭后我俩回到旅馆又睡了一次,这一回是”为了爱情”。她的大而多毛的玩艺儿又一次发挥了它的活力和魔力,对于我它也开始具有独立的生命了。这儿是杰曼,那儿是她毛茸茸的玩艺,我既爱杰曼同它一分为二,也爱她俩合二为一。Part 3 Chapter 2  后来当我提笔写克劳德时,我心里想的不是克劳德而是杰曼……”同她厮混过的全体男人和你,现在只有你了。船驶过去,桅杆和船身都过去了,人生的全部见鬼的激流从你身上流过,从她身上流过,从紧跟着你的所有家伙身上流过。鲜花、小鸟和阳光都涌进来,它们的芬芳香气将呛死你、毁灭你。”这是为杰曼写的。克劳德则是另一码事,尽管我也十分崇拜她,有一阵子我还自以为爱她呢。克劳德有灵魂,有良心,行为也高尚,最后这一点在一个婊子身上倒不是什么优点。克劳德总叫人认为她有几分悲哀,她显然是无意中给人留下这种印象的—你不过只是命运选派来毁灭她的那股水流中的一部分。我说了,她是无意的,因为她是全世界最不可能有意识地在别人心目中造成这样一种印象的女人。她腼腆、敏感,所以不会那么做。克劳德在本质上完全是一位具有中等教养与智力的很不错的法国姑娘。生活捉弄了她,她身上有种气质,这种气质不够强健,无法应付日常生活的刺激。路易?菲利普的那一番可怕的话正是说她的,”当某一夜来临时一切都完了,许多血盆大口朝我们逼来,我们再也无力直立。我们的肌肉从身上耷拉下来,仿佛已被每张嘴嚼烂了。”从另一方面看,杰曼是个天生的婊子,她对自己扮演的角色十二万分满意,实际上还很喜欢这活儿呢。没有什么是会使她感到不快的,除了有时肚子饿、鞋①路易。菲利普(1874一1909),法国作家。--译者子破这类不足挂齿的区区小事之外,无聊!这便是她的最大不快了。毫无疑问,她也曾有过嫖客过多的日子,但也是仅此而已。大部分时间里她喜欢这种生活,或者表现出喜欢的样子。这当然还是有区别的—跟谁出去,同谁回来,不过要紧的是男人。一个男人,这就是她梦寐以求的。一个两腿问有件东西的男人,那个东西要能使她欢悦,使她狂喜得身子乱扭一气,同时还要体验到两人已合为一体,体验到人生的乐趣,只有在那儿她才能体验到人生,即在她用双手捂住的部位。When some time later I came to write about Claude, it was not Claude that I was thinking of but Germaine… "All the men she's been with and now you, just you, and barges going by, masts and hulls, the whole damned current of life flowing through you, through her, through all the guys behind you and after you, the flowers and the birds and the sun streaming in and the fragrance of it choking you, annihilating you." That was for Germaine! Claude was not the same, though I admired her tremendously - I even thought for a while that I loved her. Claude had a soul and a conscience; she had refinement, too, which is b. read more

It was a Sunday afternoon, much like this, when I first met Germaine. I was strolling along the Boulevard Beaumarchais, rich by a hundred francs or so which my wife had frantically cabled from America. There was a touch of spring in the sir, a poisonous, malefic spring that seemed to burst from the manholes. Night after night I had been coming back to this quarter, attracted by certain leprous streets which only revealed their sinister splendor when the light of day had oozed away and the whores commenced to take up their posts. The Rue du Pasteur Wagner is one I recall in particular, corner of the Rue Amelot which hides behind the boulevard like a slumbering lizard. Here, at the neck of the bottle, so to speak, there was always a cluster of vultures who croaked and flapped their dirty wings, who reached out with sharp talons and plucked you into a doorway. Jolly, rapacious devils who didn't even give you time to button your pants when it was over. Led you into a little room off the street, a room without a window usually, and, sitting on the edge of the bed with skirts tucked up gave you a quick inspection, spat on your cock, and placed it for you. While you washed yourself another one stood at the door and, holding her victim by the hand, watched nonchalantly as you gave the finishing touches to your toilet.  走开时我又重新忆起那天看过的一本书。”这座城是一个屠宰场,尸体同屠夫混杂在一起,又被盗贼剥得精光,一层层躺在街上。狼从郊区悄悄溜进来吃他们,黑死病和其他瘟疫也来跟它们为伍,英国人也大踏步赶来。与此同时,死亡之舞在所有墓地的坟堆间旋转……”这书讲的是”愚蠢的查理”时代的巴黎轶事!一本可爱的书!看过后使人精神振奋、胃口大开,我至今仍为它着迷,我对文艺复兴时期的倡导人和先驱者知道的不多,不过对漂亮的面包师平博荷耐福夫人和让?卡波特大师这两人至今记忆犹新,一有空便想起他们。我也忘不了罗丹这个《流浪的犹太人》中的邪恶天才。他无法无天地胡作非为,”直到有一天被有八分之一黑人血统的塞西莉激怒并且智龋”坐在圣殿广场,冥想让? 卡博什手下屠宰老弱马匹的人的所做所为,我久久悲哀地想着”愚蠢的查理”的悲惨命运。他是一个智力不健全的人,在他的圣保罗旅馆大厅里转来转去,穿的是最脏最臭的破衣服,溃疡和害虫侵蚀着他的健康。别人丢给他一根骨头,他便像一条癫皮狗一样去啃。我在狮子街寻找从前兽栏的石头,他过去曾在这儿喂宠物,这是除了同他”出身低贱的伙伴”奥代特?德?尚帕狄丰打牌以外的唯一消遣。这可怜的傻子。我头一回遇见杰曼也是在一个星期日的下午,同今天差不多。那天我正沿着博马舍林荫道散步,身上装着我妻子从美国赶忙寄来的一百多法郎,很阔气。天气已有点春天的意思了,一个有毒有害的春天似乎就要从街上的下水道出入孔溢出。我每天夜里都回到这儿来,因为这儿有几条患麻风病的街道吸引着我,它们要待白天的光亮渐渐消失、妓女们各就各位后才暴露出其邪恶的光辉。尤其令我印象深刻的是巴斯德一瓦格纳街,它就位于藏在林荫大道后面、像一条熟睡的蜥蜴似的阿梅洛特街角上。在这个瓶子颈里总聚集着一串秃鹰,她们哇哇叫着扇动肮脏的翅膀,她们伸出锋利的爪子把你抓进一个门里。她们全是一伙快活而又贪婪的魔鬼,完事之后连系裤子的时间都不给你。她们领你来到背街的一个小房间里,通常是没有窗子的房间,然后她们撩起裙子坐在床边上,很快查看你一番,朝你那玩艺上吐口唾沫便替你把它塞进去了。你还在洗身子时,另一个婊子便扯着她的猎物站在门口等着呢,她冷淡地望着你最后草草洗几下了事。  后来当我提笔写克劳德时,我心里想的不是克劳德而是杰曼……”同她厮混过的全体男人和你,现在只有你了。船驶过去,桅杆和船身都过去了,人生的全部见鬼的激流从你身上流过,从她身上流过,从紧跟着你的所有家伙身上流过。鲜花、小鸟和阳光都涌进来,它们的芬芳香气将呛死你、毁灭你。”这是为杰曼写的。克劳德则是另一码事,尽管我也十分崇拜她,有一阵子我还自以为爱她呢。克劳德有灵魂,有良心,行为也高尚,最后这一点在一个婊子身上倒不是什么优点。克劳德总叫人认为她有几分悲哀,她显然是无意中给人留下这种印象的—你不过只是命运选派来毁灭她的那股水流中的一部分。我说了,她是无意的,因为她是全世界最不可能有意识地在别人心目中造成这样一种印象的女人。她腼腆、敏感,所以不会那么做。克劳德在本质上完全是一位具有中等教养与智力的很不错的法国姑娘。生活捉弄了她,她身上有种气质,这种气质不够强健,无法应付日常生活的刺激。路易?菲利普的那一番可怕的话正是说她的,”当某一夜来临时一切都完了,许多血盆大口朝我们逼来,我们再也无力直立。我们的肌肉从身上耷拉下来,仿佛已被每张嘴嚼烂了。”从另一方面看,杰曼是个天生的婊子,她对自己扮演的角色十二万分满意,实际上还很喜欢这活儿呢。没有什么是会使她感到不快的,除了有时肚子饿、鞋①路易。菲利普(1874一1909),法国作家。--译者子破这类不足挂齿的区区小事之外,无聊!这便是她的最大不快了。毫无疑问,她也曾有过嫖客过多的日子,但也是仅此而已。大部分时间里她喜欢这种生活,或者表现出喜欢的样子。这当然还是有区别的—跟谁出去,同谁回来,不过要紧的是男人。一个男人,这就是她梦寐以求的。一个两腿问有件东西的男人,那个东西要能使她欢悦,使她狂喜得身子乱扭一气,同时还要体验到两人已合为一体,体验到人生的乐趣,只有在那儿她才能体验到人生,即在她用双手捂住的部位。Part 3 Chapter 2As she flung herself on the bed, with legs spread wide apart, she cupped it with her hands and stroked it some more, murmuring all the while in that hoarse, cracked voice of hers that it was good, beautiful, a treasure, a little treasure. And it was good, that little pussy of hers! That Sunday afternoon, with its poisonous breath of spring in the air, everything clicked again. As we stepped out of the hotel I looked her over again in the harsh light of day and I saw clearly what a whore she was - the gold teeth, the geranium in her hat, the run-down heels, etc., etc. Even the fact that she had wormed a dinner out of me and cigarettes and taxi hadn't the least disturbing effect upon me. I encouraged it, in fact. I liked her so well that after dinner we went back to the hotel again and took another shot at it. "For love," this time. And again that big, bushy thing of hers worked its bloom and magic. It began to have an independent existence - for me too. There was Germaine and there was that rose bush of hers. I liked them separately and I liked them together..

  在靠近竞技广场不远的北城区,我停了几分钟欣赏这片地方的脏乱景色。同人们在低低的、同巴黎的旧交通要道平行的走道里看到的许多广场一样,这个广场是长方形的。广场中央有一些又破又旧的建筑,衰败不堪,一座倒在另一座顶上,形成了像一团肠子一样的一堆东西。地面不平,铺地的石板上尽是脏东西,很滑,真像一堆混杂着炉渣和垃圾的人屎尿。太阳很快要落下去了,天空中的色彩也消失了,紫色变成干血色,青贝色变成褐色,黯淡的灰色变成鸽粪色。到处都有一个歪七扭八的怪物站在窗子上,像猫头鹰一样挤眼睛,脸色苍白、骨瘦如柴的孩子们发出刺耳的尖叫声,患佝偻病的小顽童头上往往有医生用钳子夹过的印痕。墙里渗出一股恶臭味,那是发霉的床垫味。欧洲,中世纪的、怪诞的、恐怖的欧洲—B-mol调的交响曲。街正对面的竞技影院给它的尊贵的顾客们提供了这个大都市的各种景观。  后来当我提笔写克劳德时,我心里想的不是克劳德而是杰曼……”同她厮混过的全体男人和你,现在只有你了。船驶过去,桅杆和船身都过去了,人生的全部见鬼的激流从你身上流过,从她身上流过,从紧跟着你的所有家伙身上流过。鲜花、小鸟和阳光都涌进来,它们的芬芳香气将呛死你、毁灭你。”这是为杰曼写的。克劳德则是另一码事,尽管我也十分崇拜她,有一阵子我还自以为爱她呢。克劳德有灵魂,有良心,行为也高尚,最后这一点在一个婊子身上倒不是什么优点。克劳德总叫人认为她有几分悲哀,她显然是无意中给人留下这种印象的—你不过只是命运选派来毁灭她的那股水流中的一部分。我说了,她是无意的,因为她是全世界最不可能有意识地在别人心目中造成这样一种印象的女人。她腼腆、敏感,所以不会那么做。克劳德在本质上完全是一位具有中等教养与智力的很不错的法国姑娘。生活捉弄了她,她身上有种气质,这种气质不够强健,无法应付日常生活的刺激。路易?菲利普的那一番可怕的话正是说她的,”当某一夜来临时一切都完了,许多血盆大口朝我们逼来,我们再也无力直立。我们的肌肉从身上耷拉下来,仿佛已被每张嘴嚼烂了。”从另一方面看,杰曼是个天生的婊子,她对自己扮演的角色十二万分满意,实际上还很喜欢这活儿呢。没有什么是会使她感到不快的,除了有时肚子饿、鞋①路易。菲利普(1874一1909),法国作家。--译者子破这类不足挂齿的区区小事之外,无聊!这便是她的最大不快了。毫无疑问,她也曾有过嫖客过多的日子,但也是仅此而已。大部分时间里她喜欢这种生活,或者表现出喜欢的样子。这当然还是有区别的—跟谁出去,同谁回来,不过要紧的是男人。一个男人,这就是她梦寐以求的。一个两腿问有件东西的男人,那个东西要能使她欢悦,使她狂喜得身子乱扭一气,同时还要体验到两人已合为一体,体验到人生的乐趣,只有在那儿她才能体验到人生,即在她用双手捂住的部位。How a man can wander about all day on an empty belly, and even get an erection once in a while, is one of those mysteries which are too easily explained by the "anatomists of the soul." On a Sunday afternoon, when the shutters are down and the proletariat possesses the street in a kind of dumb torpor, there are certain thoroughfares which remind one of nothing less than a big chancrous cock laid open longitudinally. And it is just these highways, the Rue St. Denis, for instance, or the Faubourg du Temple - which attract one irresistibly, much as in the old days, around Union Square or the upper reaches of the Bowery, one was drawn to the dime museums where in the show windows there were displayed wax reproductions of various organs of the body eaten away by syphilis and other venereal diseases. The city sprouts out like a huge organism diseased in every part, the beautiful thoroughfares only a little less repulsive because they have been drained of their pus.Part 3 Chapter 2  在靠近竞技广场不远的北城区,我停了几分钟欣赏这片地方的脏乱景色。同人们在低低的、同巴黎的旧交通要道平行的走道里看到的许多广场一样,这个广场是长方形的。广场中央有一些又破又旧的建筑,衰败不堪,一座倒在另一座顶上,形成了像一团肠子一样的一堆东西。地面不平,铺地的石板上尽是脏东西,很滑,真像一堆混杂着炉渣和垃圾的人屎尿。太阳很快要落下去了,天空中的色彩也消失了,紫色变成干血色,青贝色变成褐色,黯淡的灰色变成鸽粪色。到处都有一个歪七扭八的怪物站在窗子上,像猫头鹰一样挤眼睛,脸色苍白、骨瘦如柴的孩子们发出刺耳的尖叫声,患佝偻病的小顽童头上往往有医生用钳子夹过的印痕。墙里渗出一股恶臭味,那是发霉的床垫味。欧洲,中世纪的、怪诞的、恐怖的欧洲—B-mol调的交响曲。街正对面的竞技影院给它的尊贵的顾客们提供了这个大都市的各种景观。Part 3 Chapter 2.

When some time later I came to write about Claude, it was not Claude that I was thinking of but Germaine… "All the men she's been with and now you, just you, and barges going by, masts and hulls, the whole damned current of life flowing through you, through her, through all the guys behind you and after you, the flowers and the birds and the sun streaming in and the fragrance of it choking you, annihilating you." That was for Germaine! Claude was not the same, though I admired her tremendously - I even thought for a while that I loved her. Claude had a soul and a conscience; she had refinement, too, which is bAs she flung herself on the bed, with legs spread wide apart, she cupped it with her hands and stroked it some more, murmuring all the while in that hoarse, cracked voice of hers that it was good, beautiful, a treasure, a little treasure. And it was good, that little pussy of hers! That Sunday afternoon, with its poisonous breath of spring in the air, everything clicked again. As we stepped out of the hotel I looked her over again in the harsh light of day and I saw clearly what a whore she was - the gold teeth, the geranium in her hat, the run-down heels, etc., etc. Even the fact that she had wormed a dinner out of me and cigarettes and taxi hadn't the least disturbing effect upon me. I encouraged it, in fact. I liked her so well that after dinner we went back to the hotel again and took another shot at it. "For love," this time. And again that big, bushy thing of hers worked its bloom and magic. It began to have an independent existence - for me too. There was Germaine and there was that rose bush of hers. I liked them separately and I liked them together.  她倒在床上,大叉着双腿,用两只手捂着它又抚弄了一阵,同时还一直用粗哑的声音咕哝着,说它好、漂亮,是一件宝贝、一件小宝贝。不过她那个小玩艺儿也的确不错!那个星期日下午空气中弥漫着春天的有毒气味,一切都很圆满。走出旅馆时我在外面刺眼的光线下重新细细打量了她一番,清清楚楚地看清了她是怎样的一个婊子—金牙、帽子上插的天竺葵、踩塌下去的鞋跟,等等,等等。更有甚者,她从我这儿骗到了一顿饭吃、抽了我的烟、坐了我的出租车,可是这一切一点也没有使我气恼。老实讲,是我鼓励她这样干的。我十分喜欢她,于是吃完饭后我俩回到旅馆又睡了一次,这一回是”为了爱情”。她的大而多毛的玩艺儿又一次发挥了它的活力和魔力,对于我它也开始具有独立的生命了。这儿是杰曼,那儿是她毛茸茸的玩艺,我既爱杰曼同它一分为二,也爱她俩合二为一。Germaine was different. There was nothing to tell me so from her appearance. Nothing to distinguish her from the other trollops who met each afternoon and evening at the Café de l'Eléphant. As I say, it was a spring day and the few francs my wife had scraped up to cable me were jingling in my pocket. I had a sort of vague premonition that I would not reach the Bastille without being taken in tow by one of these buzzards. Sauntering along the boulevard I had noticed her verging toward me with that curious trot-about air of a whore and the run down heels and cheap jewelry and the pasty look of their kind which the rouge only accentuates. It was not difficult to come to terms with her. We sat in the back of the little tabac called L'Eléphant and talked it over quickly. In a few minutes we were in a five franc room on the Rue Amelot, the curtains drawn and the covers thrown back. She didn't rush things, Germaine. She sat on the bidet soaping herself and talked to me pleasantly about this and that; she liked the knickerbockers I was wearing. Très chic! she thought. They were once, but I had worn the seat out of them; fortunately the jacket covered my ass. As she stood up to dry herself, still talking to me pleasantly, suddenly she dropped the towel and, advancing toward me leisurely, she commenced rubbing her pussy affectionately, stroking it with her two hands, caressing it, patting it, patting it. There was something about her eloquence at that moment and the way she thrust that rosebush under my nose which remains unforgettable; she spoke of it as if it were some extraneous object which she had acquired at great cost, an object whose value had increased with time and which now she prized above everything in the world. Her words imbued it with a peculiar fragrance; it was no longer just her private organ, but a treasure, a magic, potent treasure, a God given thing - and none the less so because she traded it day in and day out for a few pieces of silver.  她倒在床上,大叉着双腿,用两只手捂着它又抚弄了一阵,同时还一直用粗哑的声音咕哝着,说它好、漂亮,是一件宝贝、一件小宝贝。不过她那个小玩艺儿也的确不错!那个星期日下午空气中弥漫着春天的有毒气味,一切都很圆满。走出旅馆时我在外面刺眼的光线下重新细细打量了她一番,清清楚楚地看清了她是怎样的一个婊子—金牙、帽子上插的天竺葵、踩塌下去的鞋跟,等等,等等。更有甚者,她从我这儿骗到了一顿饭吃、抽了我的烟、坐了我的出租车,可是这一切一点也没有使我气恼。老实讲,是我鼓励她这样干的。我十分喜欢她,于是吃完饭后我俩回到旅馆又睡了一次,这一回是”为了爱情”。她的大而多毛的玩艺儿又一次发挥了它的活力和魔力,对于我它也开始具有独立的生命了。这儿是杰曼,那儿是她毛茸茸的玩艺,我既爱杰曼同它一分为二,也爱她俩合二为一。  我刚才说过,杰曼是与众不同的。后来她发现了我的实际境况,便宽宏大度地待我—花很多钱请我喝酒、让我赊帐、帮我典当东西、把我介绍给她的朋友以及提供其它诸如此类的帮助。她还为没能借给我钱道歉,这我完全能理解,因为后来她把她的鸨母指给我看了。我每天夜里沿着博马舍林荫道来到那家小香烟店,妓女们都聚集在这儿。我等着她回来把她的宝贵时间匀给我几分钟。  在靠近竞技广场不远的北城区,我停了几分钟欣赏这片地方的脏乱景色。同人们在低低的、同巴黎的旧交通要道平行的走道里看到的许多广场一样,这个广场是长方形的。广场中央有一些又破又旧的建筑,衰败不堪,一座倒在另一座顶上,形成了像一团肠子一样的一堆东西。地面不平,铺地的石板上尽是脏东西,很滑,真像一堆混杂着炉渣和垃圾的人屎尿。太阳很快要落下去了,天空中的色彩也消失了,紫色变成干血色,青贝色变成褐色,黯淡的灰色变成鸽粪色。到处都有一个歪七扭八的怪物站在窗子上,像猫头鹰一样挤眼睛,脸色苍白、骨瘦如柴的孩子们发出刺耳的尖叫声,患佝偻病的小顽童头上往往有医生用钳子夹过的印痕。墙里渗出一股恶臭味,那是发霉的床垫味。欧洲,中世纪的、怪诞的、恐怖的欧洲—B-mol调的交响曲。街正对面的竞技影院给它的尊贵的顾客们提供了这个大都市的各种景观。.

  后来当我提笔写克劳德时,我心里想的不是克劳德而是杰曼……”同她厮混过的全体男人和你,现在只有你了。船驶过去,桅杆和船身都过去了,人生的全部见鬼的激流从你身上流过,从她身上流过,从紧跟着你的所有家伙身上流过。鲜花、小鸟和阳光都涌进来,它们的芬芳香气将呛死你、毁灭你。”这是为杰曼写的。克劳德则是另一码事,尽管我也十分崇拜她,有一阵子我还自以为爱她呢。克劳德有灵魂,有良心,行为也高尚,最后这一点在一个婊子身上倒不是什么优点。克劳德总叫人认为她有几分悲哀,她显然是无意中给人留下这种印象的—你不过只是命运选派来毁灭她的那股水流中的一部分。我说了,她是无意的,因为她是全世界最不可能有意识地在别人心目中造成这样一种印象的女人。她腼腆、敏感,所以不会那么做。克劳德在本质上完全是一位具有中等教养与智力的很不错的法国姑娘。生活捉弄了她,她身上有种气质,这种气质不够强健,无法应付日常生活的刺激。路易?菲利普的那一番可怕的话正是说她的,”当某一夜来临时一切都完了,许多血盆大口朝我们逼来,我们再也无力直立。我们的肌肉从身上耷拉下来,仿佛已被每张嘴嚼烂了。”从另一方面看,杰曼是个天生的婊子,她对自己扮演的角色十二万分满意,实际上还很喜欢这活儿呢。没有什么是会使她感到不快的,除了有时肚子饿、鞋①路易。菲利普(1874一1909),法国作家。--译者子破这类不足挂齿的区区小事之外,无聊!这便是她的最大不快了。毫无疑问,她也曾有过嫖客过多的日子,但也是仅此而已。大部分时间里她喜欢这种生活,或者表现出喜欢的样子。这当然还是有区别的—跟谁出去,同谁回来,不过要紧的是男人。一个男人,这就是她梦寐以求的。一个两腿问有件东西的男人,那个东西要能使她欢悦,使她狂喜得身子乱扭一气,同时还要体验到两人已合为一体,体验到人生的乐趣,只有在那儿她才能体验到人生,即在她用双手捂住的部位。As she flung herself on the bed, with legs spread wide apart, she cupped it with her hands and stroked it some more, murmuring all the while in that hoarse, cracked voice of hers that it was good, beautiful, a treasure, a little treasure. And it was good, that little pussy of hers! That Sunday afternoon, with its poisonous breath of spring in the air, everything clicked again. As we stepped out of the hotel I looked her over again in the harsh light of day and I saw clearly what a whore she was - the gold teeth, the geranium in her hat, the run-down heels, etc., etc. Even the fact that she had wormed a dinner out of me and cigarettes and taxi hadn't the least disturbing effect upon me. I encouraged it, in fact. I liked her so well that after dinner we went back to the hotel again and took another shot at it. "For love," this time. And again that big, bushy thing of hers worked its bloom and magic. It began to have an independent existence - for me too. There was Germaine and there was that rose bush of hers. I liked them separately and I liked them together.How a man can wander about all day on an empty belly, and even get an erection once in a while, is one of those mysteries which are too easily explained by the "anatomists of the soul." On a Sunday afternoon, when the shutters are down and the proletariat possesses the street in a kind of dumb torpor, there are certain thoroughfares which remind one of nothing less than a big chancrous cock laid open longitudinally. And it is just these highways, the Rue St. Denis, for instance, or the Faubourg du Temple - which attract one irresistibly, much as in the old days, around Union Square or the upper reaches of the Bowery, one was drawn to the dime museums where in the show windows there were displayed wax reproductions of various organs of the body eaten away by syphilis and other venereal diseases. The city sprouts out like a huge organism diseased in every part, the beautiful thoroughfares only a little less repulsive because they have been drained of their pus.  我刚才说过,杰曼是与众不同的。后来她发现了我的实际境况,便宽宏大度地待我—花很多钱请我喝酒、让我赊帐、帮我典当东西、把我介绍给她的朋友以及提供其它诸如此类的帮助。她还为没能借给我钱道歉,这我完全能理解,因为后来她把她的鸨母指给我看了。我每天夜里沿着博马舍林荫道来到那家小香烟店,妓女们都聚集在这儿。我等着她回来把她的宝贵时间匀给我几分钟。Coming away my mind reverts to a book that I was reading only the other day. "The town was a shambles; corpses, mangled by butchers and stripped by plunderers, lay thick in the streets; wolves sneaked from the suburbs to eat them; the black death and other plagues crept in to keep them company, and the English came marching on; the while the danse macabre whirled about the tombs in all the cemeteries…" Paris during the days of Charles the Silly! A lovely book! Refreshing, appetizing. I'm still enchanted by it. About the patrons and prodromes of the Renaissance I know little, but Madam Pimpernel, la belle boulangère, and Ma?tre Jehan Crapotte, l'orfèvre, these occupy my spare thoughts still. Not forgetting Rodin, the evil genius of The Wandering Jew, who practised his nefarious ways "until the day when he was enflamed and outwitted by the octoroon Cecily." Sitting in the Square du Temple, musing over the doings of the horse knackers led by Jean Caboche, I have thought long and ruefully over the sad fate of Charles the Silly. A half wit, who prowled about the halls of his H?tel St. Paul, garbed in the filthiest rags, eaten away by ulcers and vermin, gnawing a bone, when they flung him one, like a mangy dog. At the Rue des Lions I looked for the stones of the old menagerie where he once fed his pets. His only diversion, poor dolt, aside from those card games with his "low born companion," Odette de Champdivers.As she flung herself on the bed, with legs spread wide apart, she cupped it with her hands and stroked it some more, murmuring all the while in that hoarse, cracked voice of hers that it was good, beautiful, a treasure, a little treasure. And it was good, that little pussy of hers! That Sunday afternoon, with its poisonous breath of spring in the air, everything clicked again. As we stepped out of the hotel I looked her over again in the harsh light of day and I saw clearly what a whore she was - the gold teeth, the geranium in her hat, the run-down heels, etc., etc. Even the fact that she had wormed a dinner out of me and cigarettes and taxi hadn't the least disturbing effect upon me. I encouraged it, in fact. I liked her so well that after dinner we went back to the hotel again and took another shot at it. "For love," this time. And again that big, bushy thing of hers worked its bloom and magic. It began to have an independent existence - for me too. There was Germaine and there was that rose bush of hers. I liked them separately and I liked them together..

How a man can wander about all day on an empty belly, and even get an erection once in a while, is one of those mysteries which are too easily explained by the "anatomists of the soul." On a Sunday afternoon, when the shutters are down and the proletariat possesses the street in a kind of dumb torpor, there are certain thoroughfares which remind one of nothing less than a big chancrous cock laid open longitudinally. And it is just these highways, the Rue St. Denis, for instance, or the Faubourg du Temple - which attract one irresistibly, much as in the old days, around Union Square or the upper reaches of the Bowery, one was drawn to the dime museums where in the show windows there were displayed wax reproductions of various organs of the body eaten away by syphilis and other venereal diseases. The city sprouts out like a huge organism diseased in every part, the beautiful thoroughfares only a little less repulsive because they have been drained of their pus.It was a Sunday afternoon, much like this, when I first met Germaine. I was strolling along the Boulevard Beaumarchais, rich by a hundred francs or so which my wife had frantically cabled from America. There was a touch of spring in the sir, a poisonous, malefic spring that seemed to burst from the manholes. Night after night I had been coming back to this quarter, attracted by certain leprous streets which only revealed their sinister splendor when the light of day had oozed away and the whores commenced to take up their posts. The Rue du Pasteur Wagner is one I recall in particular, corner of the Rue Amelot which hides behind the boulevard like a slumbering lizard. Here, at the neck of the bottle, so to speak, there was always a cluster of vultures who croaked and flapped their dirty wings, who reached out with sharp talons and plucked you into a doorway. Jolly, rapacious devils who didn't even give you time to button your pants when it was over. Led you into a little room off the street, a room without a window usually, and, sitting on the edge of the bed with skirts tucked up gave you a quick inspection, spat on your cock, and placed it for you. While you washed yourself another one stood at the door and, holding her victim by the hand, watched nonchalantly as you gave the finishing touches to your toilet.我头一回遇见杰曼也是在一个星期日的下午,同今天差不多。那天我正沿着博马舍林荫道散步,身上装着我妻子从美国赶忙寄来的一百多法郎,很阔气。天气已有点春天的意思了,一个有毒有害的春天似乎就要从街上的下水道出入孔溢出。我每天夜里都回到这儿来,因为这儿有几条患麻风病的街道吸引着我,它们要待白天的光亮渐渐消失、妓女们各就各位后才暴露出其邪恶的光辉。尤其令我印象深刻的是巴斯德一瓦格纳街,它就位于藏在林荫大道后面、像一条熟睡的蜥蜴似的阿梅洛特街角上。在这个瓶子颈里总聚集着一串秃鹰,她们哇哇叫着扇动肮脏的翅膀,她们伸出锋利的爪子把你抓进一个门里。她们全是一伙快活而又贪婪的魔鬼,完事之后连系裤子的时间都不给你。她们领你来到背街的一个小房间里,通常是没有窗子的房间,然后她们撩起裙子坐在床边上,很快查看你一番,朝你那玩艺上吐口唾沫便替你把它塞进去了。你还在洗身子时,另一个婊子便扯着她的猎物站在门口等着呢,她冷淡地望着你最后草草洗几下了事。How a man can wander about all day on an empty belly, and even get an erection once in a while, is one of those mysteries which are too easily explained by the "anatomists of the soul." On a Sunday afternoon, when the shutters are down and the proletariat possesses the street in a kind of dumb torpor, there are certain thoroughfares which remind one of nothing less than a big chancrous cock laid open longitudinally. And it is just these highways, the Rue St. Denis, for instance, or the Faubourg du Temple - which attract one irresistibly, much as in the old days, around Union Square or the upper reaches of the Bowery, one was drawn to the dime museums where in the show windows there were displayed wax reproductions of various organs of the body eaten away by syphilis and other venereal diseases. The city sprouts out like a huge organism diseased in every part, the beautiful thoroughfares only a little less repulsive because they have been drained of their pus.可杰曼却与众不同,这从她的外貌上可看不出来,没有什么特征可以把她跟另外那伙每天下午和傍晚在大象咖啡厅碰头的妓女区别开。我刚才说过,这是春季的一天,我妻子积攒起来汇给我的那几个法郎在口袋里叮当乱响。我有一种模模糊糊的预感:到达巴士底广场之前我准会被一只秃鹰拖了去。沿着林荫大道漫步时,我早就注意到杰曼在朝我这边蹭,一副到处游荡看热闹的婊子派头。她的鞋跟塌下来,她戴着便宜的手饰,脸色发青,涂上胭脂反倒更显出妓女特有的青白色皮肤,同她谈妥条件并不难,我们坐在那家也叫作”大象”的小香烟店里很快便谈好了。几分钟后我们便在阿梅洛街上花五法郎租了一个房间。窗帘放下,床罩也掀到一边去了,她并不急于尽快了事,这位杰曼。她坐在坐浴盆上擦肥皂,一面愉快地跟我东拉西扯,说她喜欢我穿的灯笼短裤。她认为它”棒极了”!从前是的,不过我已经穿破了屁股坐的地方,幸亏靠外衣遮住屁股。她仍跟我愉快地说着话,起来擦干了身子,突兀地扔下毛巾朝我随随便便走过来。她开始热切地抚弄自己的下体,用两只手摸它、爱抚它、拍它。当时她滔滔不绝说话的劲头儿和把下体插到我鼻子底下这个动作至今仍使我难以忘怀。她谈到它时那种口气仿佛叫你觉得那玩艺凡是她花了大价钱买来的,身体以外的某件东西,这件东西的价值随着时间的推移在增加,现在她在这个世界上最宝贵的东西便莫过于它了。她的话赋予它一种奇妙的芬芳气味,它已不再只是她的下体,还是一件宝贝、一件魔物、一件极有魔力的宝贝、一件上帝赋予的礼物,而且并不因为她每天都用它换几个钱而丧失一点点魔力。  后来当我提笔写克劳德时,我心里想的不是克劳德而是杰曼……”同她厮混过的全体男人和你,现在只有你了。船驶过去,桅杆和船身都过去了,人生的全部见鬼的激流从你身上流过,从她身上流过,从紧跟着你的所有家伙身上流过。鲜花、小鸟和阳光都涌进来,它们的芬芳香气将呛死你、毁灭你。”这是为杰曼写的。克劳德则是另一码事,尽管我也十分崇拜她,有一阵子我还自以为爱她呢。克劳德有灵魂,有良心,行为也高尚,最后这一点在一个婊子身上倒不是什么优点。克劳德总叫人认为她有几分悲哀,她显然是无意中给人留下这种印象的—你不过只是命运选派来毁灭她的那股水流中的一部分。我说了,她是无意的,因为她是全世界最不可能有意识地在别人心目中造成这样一种印象的女人。她腼腆、敏感,所以不会那么做。克劳德在本质上完全是一位具有中等教养与智力的很不错的法国姑娘。生活捉弄了她,她身上有种气质,这种气质不够强健,无法应付日常生活的刺激。路易?菲利普的那一番可怕的话正是说她的,”当某一夜来临时一切都完了,许多血盆大口朝我们逼来,我们再也无力直立。我们的肌肉从身上耷拉下来,仿佛已被每张嘴嚼烂了。”从另一方面看,杰曼是个天生的婊子,她对自己扮演的角色十二万分满意,实际上还很喜欢这活儿呢。没有什么是会使她感到不快的,除了有时肚子饿、鞋①路易。菲利普(1874一1909),法国作家。--译者子破这类不足挂齿的区区小事之外,无聊!这便是她的最大不快了。毫无疑问,她也曾有过嫖客过多的日子,但也是仅此而已。大部分时间里她喜欢这种生活,或者表现出喜欢的样子。这当然还是有区别的—跟谁出去,同谁回来,不过要紧的是男人。一个男人,这就是她梦寐以求的。一个两腿问有件东西的男人,那个东西要能使她欢悦,使她狂喜得身子乱扭一气,同时还要体验到两人已合为一体,体验到人生的乐趣,只有在那儿她才能体验到人生,即在她用双手捂住的部位。How a man can wander about all day on an empty belly, and even get an erection once in a while, is one of those mysteries which are too easily explained by the "anatomists of the soul." On a Sunday afternoon, when the shutters are down and the proletariat possesses the street in a kind of dumb torpor, there are certain thoroughfares which remind one of nothing less than a big chancrous cock laid open longitudinally. And it is just these highways, the Rue St. Denis, for instance, or the Faubourg du Temple - which attract one irresistibly, much as in the old days, around Union Square or the upper reaches of the Bowery, one was drawn to the dime museums where in the show windows there were displayed wax reproductions of various organs of the body eaten away by syphilis and other venereal diseases. The city sprouts out like a huge organism diseased in every part, the beautiful thoroughfares only a little less repulsive because they have been drained of their pus.Part 3 Chapter 2Coming away my mind reverts to a book that I was reading only the other day. "The town was a shambles; corpses, mangled by butchers and stripped by plunderers, lay thick in the streets; wolves sneaked from the suburbs to eat them; the black death and other plagues crept in to keep them company, and the English came marching on; the while the danse macabre whirled about the tombs in all the cemeteries…" Paris during the days of Charles the Silly! A lovely book! Refreshing, appetizing. I'm still enchanted by it. About the patrons and prodromes of the Renaissance I know little, but Madam Pimpernel, la belle boulangère, and Ma?tre Jehan Crapotte, l'orfèvre, these occupy my spare thoughts still. Not forgetting Rodin, the evil genius of The Wandering Jew, who practised his nefarious ways "until the day when he was enflamed and outwitted by the octoroon Cecily." Sitting in the Square du Temple, musing over the doings of the horse knackers led by Jean Caboche, I have thought long and ruefully over the sad fate of Charles the Silly. A half wit, who prowled about the halls of his H?tel St. Paul, garbed in the filthiest rags, eaten away by ulcers and vermin, gnawing a bone, when they flung him one, like a mangy dog. At the Rue des Lions I looked for the stones of the old menagerie where he once fed his pets. His only diversion, poor dolt, aside from those card games with his "low born companion," Odette de Champdivers.It was a Sunday afternoon, much like this, when I first met Germaine. I was strolling along the Boulevard Beaumarchais, rich by a hundred francs or so which my wife had frantically cabled from America. There was a touch of spring in the sir, a poisonous, malefic spring that seemed to burst from the manholes. Night after night I had been coming back to this quarter, attracted by certain leprous streets which only revealed their sinister splendor when the light of day had oozed away and the whores commenced to take up their posts. The Rue du Pasteur Wagner is one I recall in particular, corner of the Rue Amelot which hides behind the boulevard like a slumbering lizard. Here, at the neck of the bottle, so to speak, there was always a cluster of vultures who croaked and flapped their dirty wings, who reached out with sharp talons and plucked you into a doorway. Jolly, rapacious devils who didn't even give you time to button your pants when it was over. Led you into a little room off the street, a room without a window usually, and, sitting on the edge of the bed with skirts tucked up gave you a quick inspection, spat on your cock, and placed it for you. While you washed yourself another one stood at the door and, holding her victim by the hand, watched nonchalantly as you gave the finishing touches to your toilet.可杰曼却与众不同,这从她的外貌上可看不出来,没有什么特征可以把她跟另外那伙每天下午和傍晚在大象咖啡厅碰头的妓女区别开。我刚才说过,这是春季的一天,我妻子积攒起来汇给我的那几个法郎在口袋里叮当乱响。我有一种模模糊糊的预感:到达巴士底广场之前我准会被一只秃鹰拖了去。沿着林荫大道漫步时,我早就注意到杰曼在朝我这边蹭,一副到处游荡看热闹的婊子派头。她的鞋跟塌下来,她戴着便宜的手饰,脸色发青,涂上胭脂反倒更显出妓女特有的青白色皮肤,同她谈妥条件并不难,我们坐在那家也叫作”大象”的小香烟店里很快便谈好了。几分钟后我们便在阿梅洛街上花五法郎租了一个房间。窗帘放下,床罩也掀到一边去了,她并不急于尽快了事,这位杰曼。她坐在坐浴盆上擦肥皂,一面愉快地跟我东拉西扯,说她喜欢我穿的灯笼短裤。她认为它”棒极了”!从前是的,不过我已经穿破了屁股坐的地方,幸亏靠外衣遮住屁股。她仍跟我愉快地说着话,起来擦干了身子,突兀地扔下毛巾朝我随随便便走过来。她开始热切地抚弄自己的下体,用两只手摸它、爱抚它、拍它。当时她滔滔不绝说话的劲头儿和把下体插到我鼻子底下这个动作至今仍使我难以忘怀。她谈到它时那种口气仿佛叫你觉得那玩艺凡是她花了大价钱买来的,身体以外的某件东西,这件东西的价值随着时间的推移在增加,现在她在这个世界上最宝贵的东西便莫过于它了。她的话赋予它一种奇妙的芬芳气味,它已不再只是她的下体,还是一件宝贝、一件魔物、一件极有魔力的宝贝、一件上帝赋予的礼物,而且并不因为她每天都用它换几个钱而丧失一点点魔力。.

  在靠近竞技广场不远的北城区,我停了几分钟欣赏这片地方的脏乱景色。同人们在低低的、同巴黎的旧交通要道平行的走道里看到的许多广场一样,这个广场是长方形的。广场中央有一些又破又旧的建筑,衰败不堪,一座倒在另一座顶上,形成了像一团肠子一样的一堆东西。地面不平,铺地的石板上尽是脏东西,很滑,真像一堆混杂着炉渣和垃圾的人屎尿。太阳很快要落下去了,天空中的色彩也消失了,紫色变成干血色,青贝色变成褐色,黯淡的灰色变成鸽粪色。到处都有一个歪七扭八的怪物站在窗子上,像猫头鹰一样挤眼睛,脸色苍白、骨瘦如柴的孩子们发出刺耳的尖叫声,患佝偻病的小顽童头上往往有医生用钳子夹过的印痕。墙里渗出一股恶臭味,那是发霉的床垫味。欧洲,中世纪的、怪诞的、恐怖的欧洲—B-mol调的交响曲。街正对面的竞技影院给它的尊贵的顾客们提供了这个大都市的各种景观。sters, sweetbreads. Some day, when I'm standing at the corner of 42nd Street and Broadway, I'm going to remember this title and I'm going to put down everything that goes on in my noodle - caviar, rain drops, axle grease, vermicelli, liverwurst - slices and slices of it. And I'll tell no one why, after I had put everything down, I suddenly went home and chopped the baby to pieces. Un acte gratuit pour vous, cher monsieur si bien coupé en tranches!  后来当我提笔写克劳德时,我心里想的不是克劳德而是杰曼……”同她厮混过的全体男人和你,现在只有你了。船驶过去,桅杆和船身都过去了,人生的全部见鬼的激流从你身上流过,从她身上流过,从紧跟着你的所有家伙身上流过。鲜花、小鸟和阳光都涌进来,它们的芬芳香气将呛死你、毁灭你。”这是为杰曼写的。克劳德则是另一码事,尽管我也十分崇拜她,有一阵子我还自以为爱她呢。克劳德有灵魂,有良心,行为也高尚,最后这一点在一个婊子身上倒不是什么优点。克劳德总叫人认为她有几分悲哀,她显然是无意中给人留下这种印象的—你不过只是命运选派来毁灭她的那股水流中的一部分。我说了,她是无意的,因为她是全世界最不可能有意识地在别人心目中造成这样一种印象的女人。她腼腆、敏感,所以不会那么做。克劳德在本质上完全是一位具有中等教养与智力的很不错的法国姑娘。生活捉弄了她,她身上有种气质,这种气质不够强健,无法应付日常生活的刺激。路易?菲利普的那一番可怕的话正是说她的,”当某一夜来临时一切都完了,许多血盆大口朝我们逼来,我们再也无力直立。我们的肌肉从身上耷拉下来,仿佛已被每张嘴嚼烂了。”从另一方面看,杰曼是个天生的婊子,她对自己扮演的角色十二万分满意,实际上还很喜欢这活儿呢。没有什么是会使她感到不快的,除了有时肚子饿、鞋①路易。菲利普(1874一1909),法国作家。--译者子破这类不足挂齿的区区小事之外,无聊!这便是她的最大不快了。毫无疑问,她也曾有过嫖客过多的日子,但也是仅此而已。大部分时间里她喜欢这种生活,或者表现出喜欢的样子。这当然还是有区别的—跟谁出去,同谁回来,不过要紧的是男人。一个男人,这就是她梦寐以求的。一个两腿问有件东西的男人,那个东西要能使她欢悦,使她狂喜得身子乱扭一气,同时还要体验到两人已合为一体,体验到人生的乐趣,只有在那儿她才能体验到人生,即在她用双手捂住的部位。At the City Nortier, somewhere near the Place du Combat, I pause a few minutes to drink in the full squalor of the scene. It is a rectangular court like many another which one glimpses through the low passageways that flank the old arteries of Paris. In the middle of the court is a clump of decrepit buildings which have so rotted away that they have collapsed on one another and formed a sort of intestinal embrace. The ground is uneven, the flagging slippery with slime. A sort of human dump heap which has been filled in with cinders and dry garbage. The sun is setting fast. The colors die. They shift from purple to dried blood, from nacre to bister, from cool dead grays to pigeon shit. Here and there a lopsided monster stands in the window blinking like an owl. There is the shrill squawk of children with pale faces and bony limbs, rickety little urchins marked with the forceps. A fetid odor seeps from the walls, the odor of a mildewed mattress. Europe - medieval, grotesque, monstrous: a symphony in B mol. Directly across the street the Ciné Combat offers its distinguished clientele Metropolis.. read more

2015 4:30 am When some time later I came to write about Claude, it was not Claude that I was thinking of but Germaine… "All the men she's been with and now you, just you, and barges going by, masts and hulls, the whole damned current of life flowing through you, through her, through all the guys behind you and after you, the flowers and the birds and the sun streaming in and the fragrance of it choking you, annihilating you." That was for Germaine! Claude was not the same, though I admired her tremendously - I even thought for a while that I loved her. Claude had a soul and a conscience; she had refinement, too, which is b  后来当我提笔写克劳德时,我心里想的不是克劳德而是杰曼……”同她厮混过的全体男人和你,现在只有你了。船驶过去,桅杆和船身都过去了,人生的全部见鬼的激流从你身上流过,从她身上流过,从紧跟着你的所有家伙身上流过。鲜花、小鸟和阳光都涌进来,它们的芬芳香气将呛死你、毁灭你。”这是为杰曼写的。克劳德则是另一码事,尽管我也十分崇拜她,有一阵子我还自以为爱她呢。克劳德有灵魂,有良心,行为也高尚,最后这一点在一个婊子身上倒不是什么优点。克劳德总叫人认为她有几分悲哀,她显然是无意中给人留下这种印象的—你不过只是命运选派来毁灭她的那股水流中的一部分。我说了,她是无意的,因为她是全世界最不可能有意识地在别人心目中造成这样一种印象的女人。她腼腆、敏感,所以不会那么做。克劳德在本质上完全是一位具有中等教养与智力的很不错的法国姑娘。生活捉弄了她,她身上有种气质,这种气质不够强健,无法应付日常生活的刺激。路易?菲利普的那一番可怕的话正是说她的,”当某一夜来临时一切都完了,许多血盆大口朝我们逼来,我们再也无力直立。我们的肌肉从身上耷拉下来,仿佛已被每张嘴嚼烂了。”从另一方面看,杰曼是个天生的婊子,她对自己扮演的角色十二万分满意,实际上还很喜欢这活儿呢。没有什么是会使她感到不快的,除了有时肚子饿、鞋①路易。菲利普(1874一1909),法国作家。--译者子破这类不足挂齿的区区小事之外,无聊!这便是她的最大不快了。毫无疑问,她也曾有过嫖客过多的日子,但也是仅此而已。大部分时间里她喜欢这种生活,或者表现出喜欢的样子。这当然还是有区别的—跟谁出去,同谁回来,不过要紧的是男人。一个男人,这就是她梦寐以求的。一个两腿问有件东西的男人,那个东西要能使她欢悦,使她狂喜得身子乱扭一气,同时还要体验到两人已合为一体,体验到人生的乐趣,只有在那儿她才能体验到人生,即在她用双手捂住的部位。As she flung herself on the bed, with legs spread wide apart, she cupped it with her hands and stroked it some more, murmuring all the while in that hoarse, cracked voice of hers that it was good, beautiful, a treasure, a little treasure. And it was good, that little pussy of hers! That Sunday afternoon, with its poisonous breath of spring in the air, everything clicked again. As we stepped out of the hotel I looked her over again in the harsh light of day and I saw clearly what a whore she was - the gold teeth, the geranium in her hat, the run-down heels, etc., etc. Even the fact that she had wormed a dinner out of me and cigarettes and taxi hadn't the least disturbing effect upon me. I encouraged it, in fact. I liked her so well that after dinner we went back to the hotel again and took another shot at it. "For love," this time. And again that big, bushy thing of hers worked its bloom and magic. It began to have an independent existence - for me too. There was Germaine and there was that rose bush of hers. I liked them separately and I liked them together..

  后来当我提笔写克劳德时,我心里想的不是克劳德而是杰曼……”同她厮混过的全体男人和你,现在只有你了。船驶过去,桅杆和船身都过去了,人生的全部见鬼的激流从你身上流过,从她身上流过,从紧跟着你的所有家伙身上流过。鲜花、小鸟和阳光都涌进来,它们的芬芳香气将呛死你、毁灭你。”这是为杰曼写的。克劳德则是另一码事,尽管我也十分崇拜她,有一阵子我还自以为爱她呢。克劳德有灵魂,有良心,行为也高尚,最后这一点在一个婊子身上倒不是什么优点。克劳德总叫人认为她有几分悲哀,她显然是无意中给人留下这种印象的—你不过只是命运选派来毁灭她的那股水流中的一部分。我说了,她是无意的,因为她是全世界最不可能有意识地在别人心目中造成这样一种印象的女人。她腼腆、敏感,所以不会那么做。克劳德在本质上完全是一位具有中等教养与智力的很不错的法国姑娘。生活捉弄了她,她身上有种气质,这种气质不够强健,无法应付日常生活的刺激。路易?菲利普的那一番可怕的话正是说她的,”当某一夜来临时一切都完了,许多血盆大口朝我们逼来,我们再也无力直立。我们的肌肉从身上耷拉下来,仿佛已被每张嘴嚼烂了。”从另一方面看,杰曼是个天生的婊子,她对自己扮演的角色十二万分满意,实际上还很喜欢这活儿呢。没有什么是会使她感到不快的,除了有时肚子饿、鞋①路易。菲利普(1874一1909),法国作家。--译者子破这类不足挂齿的区区小事之外,无聊!这便是她的最大不快了。毫无疑问,她也曾有过嫖客过多的日子,但也是仅此而已。大部分时间里她喜欢这种生活,或者表现出喜欢的样子。这当然还是有区别的—跟谁出去,同谁回来,不过要紧的是男人。一个男人,这就是她梦寐以求的。一个两腿问有件东西的男人,那个东西要能使她欢悦,使她狂喜得身子乱扭一气,同时还要体验到两人已合为一体,体验到人生的乐趣,只有在那儿她才能体验到人生,即在她用双手捂住的部位。  我刚才说过,杰曼是与众不同的。后来她发现了我的实际境况,便宽宏大度地待我—花很多钱请我喝酒、让我赊帐、帮我典当东西、把我介绍给她的朋友以及提供其它诸如此类的帮助。她还为没能借给我钱道歉,这我完全能理解,因为后来她把她的鸨母指给我看了。我每天夜里沿着博马舍林荫道来到那家小香烟店,妓女们都聚集在这儿。我等着她回来把她的宝贵时间匀给我几分钟。Germaine was different. There was nothing to tell me so from her appearance. Nothing to distinguish her from the other trollops who met each afternoon and evening at the Café de l'Eléphant. As I say, it was a spring day and the few francs my wife had scraped up to cable me were jingling in my pocket. I had a sort of vague premonition that I would not reach the Bastille without being taken in tow by one of these buzzards. Sauntering along the boulevard I had noticed her verging toward me with that curious trot-about air of a whore and the run down heels and cheap jewelry and the pasty look of their kind which the rouge only accentuates. It was not difficult to come to terms with her. We sat in the back of the little tabac called L'Eléphant and talked it over quickly. In a few minutes we were in a five franc room on the Rue Amelot, the curtains drawn and the covers thrown back. She didn't rush things, Germaine. She sat on the bidet soaping herself and talked to me pleasantly about this and that; she liked the knickerbockers I was wearing. Très chic! she thought. They were once, but I had worn the seat out of them; fortunately the jacket covered my ass. As she stood up to dry herself, still talking to me pleasantly, suddenly she dropped the towel and, advancing toward me leisurely, she commenced rubbing her pussy affectionately, stroking it with her two hands, caressing it, patting it, patting it. There was something about her eloquence at that moment and the way she thrust that rosebush under my nose which remains unforgettable; she spoke of it as if it were some extraneous object which she had acquired at great cost, an object whose value had increased with time and which now she prized above everything in the world. Her words imbued it with a peculiar fragrance; it was no longer just her private organ, but a treasure, a magic, potent treasure, a God given thing - and none the less so because she traded it day in and day out for a few pieces of silver.As she flung herself on the bed, with legs spread wide apart, she cupped it with her hands and stroked it some more, murmuring all the while in that hoarse, cracked voice of hers that it was good, beautiful, a treasure, a little treasure. And it was good, that little pussy of hers! That Sunday afternoon, with its poisonous breath of spring in the air, everything clicked again. As we stepped out of the hotel I looked her over again in the harsh light of day and I saw clearly what a whore she was - the gold teeth, the geranium in her hat, the run-down heels, etc., etc. Even the fact that she had wormed a dinner out of me and cigarettes and taxi hadn't the least disturbing effect upon me. I encouraged it, in fact. I liked her so well that after dinner we went back to the hotel again and took another shot at it. "For love," this time. And again that big, bushy thing of hers worked its bloom and magic. It began to have an independent existence - for me too. There was Germaine and there was that rose bush of hers. I liked them separately and I liked them together.  在靠近竞技广场不远的北城区,我停了几分钟欣赏这片地方的脏乱景色。同人们在低低的、同巴黎的旧交通要道平行的走道里看到的许多广场一样,这个广场是长方形的。广场中央有一些又破又旧的建筑,衰败不堪,一座倒在另一座顶上,形成了像一团肠子一样的一堆东西。地面不平,铺地的石板上尽是脏东西,很滑,真像一堆混杂着炉渣和垃圾的人屎尿。太阳很快要落下去了,天空中的色彩也消失了,紫色变成干血色,青贝色变成褐色,黯淡的灰色变成鸽粪色。到处都有一个歪七扭八的怪物站在窗子上,像猫头鹰一样挤眼睛,脸色苍白、骨瘦如柴的孩子们发出刺耳的尖叫声,患佝偻病的小顽童头上往往有医生用钳子夹过的印痕。墙里渗出一股恶臭味,那是发霉的床垫味。欧洲,中世纪的、怪诞的、恐怖的欧洲—B-mol调的交响曲。街正对面的竞技影院给它的尊贵的顾客们提供了这个大都市的各种景观。  走开时我又重新忆起那天看过的一本书。”这座城是一个屠宰场,尸体同屠夫混杂在一起,又被盗贼剥得精光,一层层躺在街上。狼从郊区悄悄溜进来吃他们,黑死病和其他瘟疫也来跟它们为伍,英国人也大踏步赶来。与此同时,死亡之舞在所有墓地的坟堆间旋转……”这书讲的是”愚蠢的查理”时代的巴黎轶事!一本可爱的书!看过后使人精神振奋、胃口大开,我至今仍为它着迷,我对文艺复兴时期的倡导人和先驱者知道的不多,不过对漂亮的面包师平博荷耐福夫人和让?卡波特大师这两人至今记忆犹新,一有空便想起他们。我也忘不了罗丹这个《流浪的犹太人》中的邪恶天才。他无法无天地胡作非为,”直到有一天被有八分之一黑人血统的塞西莉激怒并且智龋”坐在圣殿广场,冥想让? 卡博什手下屠宰老弱马匹的人的所做所为,我久久悲哀地想着”愚蠢的查理”的悲惨命运。他是一个智力不健全的人,在他的圣保罗旅馆大厅里转来转去,穿的是最脏最臭的破衣服,溃疡和害虫侵蚀着他的健康。别人丢给他一根骨头,他便像一条癫皮狗一样去啃。我在狮子街寻找从前兽栏的石头,他过去曾在这儿喂宠物,这是除了同他”出身低贱的伙伴”奥代特?德?尚帕狄丰打牌以外的唯一消遣。这可怜的傻子。

  在靠近竞技广场不远的北城区,我停了几分钟欣赏这片地方的脏乱景色。同人们在低低的、同巴黎的旧交通要道平行的走道里看到的许多广场一样,这个广场是长方形的。广场中央有一些又破又旧的建筑,衰败不堪,一座倒在另一座顶上,形成了像一团肠子一样的一堆东西。地面不平,铺地的石板上尽是脏东西,很滑,真像一堆混杂着炉渣和垃圾的人屎尿。太阳很快要落下去了,天空中的色彩也消失了,紫色变成干血色,青贝色变成褐色,黯淡的灰色变成鸽粪色。到处都有一个歪七扭八的怪物站在窗子上,像猫头鹰一样挤眼睛,脸色苍白、骨瘦如柴的孩子们发出刺耳的尖叫声,患佝偻病的小顽童头上往往有医生用钳子夹过的印痕。墙里渗出一股恶臭味,那是发霉的床垫味。欧洲,中世纪的、怪诞的、恐怖的欧洲—B-mol调的交响曲。街正对面的竞技影院给它的尊贵的顾客们提供了这个大都市的各种景观。sters, sweetbreads. Some day, when I'm standing at the corner of 42nd Street and Broadway, I'm going to remember this title and I'm going to put down everything that goes on in my noodle - caviar, rain drops, axle grease, vermicelli, liverwurst - slices and slices of it. And I'll tell no one why, after I had put everything down, I suddenly went home and chopped the baby to pieces. Un acte gratuit pour vous, cher monsieur si bien coupé en tranches!.

When some time later I came to write about Claude, it was not Claude that I was thinking of but Germaine… "All the men she's been with and now you, just you, and barges going by, masts and hulls, the whole damned current of life flowing through you, through her, through all the guys behind you and after you, the flowers and the birds and the sun streaming in and the fragrance of it choking you, annihilating you." That was for Germaine! Claude was not the same, though I admired her tremendously - I even thought for a while that I loved her. Claude had a soul and a conscience; she had refinement, too, which is bComing away my mind reverts to a book that I was reading only the other day. "The town was a shambles; corpses, mangled by butchers and stripped by plunderers, lay thick in the streets; wolves sneaked from the suburbs to eat them; the black death and other plagues crept in to keep them company, and the English came marching on; the while the danse macabre whirled about the tombs in all the cemeteries…" Paris during the days of Charles the Silly! A lovely book! Refreshing, appetizing. I'm still enchanted by it. About the patrons and prodromes of the Renaissance I know little, but Madam Pimpernel, la belle boulangère, and Ma?tre Jehan Crapotte, l'orfèvre, these occupy my spare thoughts still. Not forgetting Rodin, the evil genius of The Wandering Jew, who practised his nefarious ways "until the day when he was enflamed and outwitted by the octoroon Cecily." Sitting in the Square du Temple, musing over the doings of the horse knackers led by Jean Caboche, I have thought long and ruefully over the sad fate of Charles the Silly. A half wit, who prowled about the halls of his H?tel St. Paul, garbed in the filthiest rags, eaten away by ulcers and vermin, gnawing a bone, when they flung him one, like a mangy dog. At the Rue des Lions I looked for the stones of the old menagerie where he once fed his pets. His only diversion, poor dolt, aside from those card games with his "low born companion," Odette de Champdivers.可杰曼却与众不同,这从她的外貌上可看不出来,没有什么特征可以把她跟另外那伙每天下午和傍晚在大象咖啡厅碰头的妓女区别开。我刚才说过,这是春季的一天,我妻子积攒起来汇给我的那几个法郎在口袋里叮当乱响。我有一种模模糊糊的预感:到达巴士底广场之前我准会被一只秃鹰拖了去。沿着林荫大道漫步时,我早就注意到杰曼在朝我这边蹭,一副到处游荡看热闹的婊子派头。她的鞋跟塌下来,她戴着便宜的手饰,脸色发青,涂上胭脂反倒更显出妓女特有的青白色皮肤,同她谈妥条件并不难,我们坐在那家也叫作”大象”的小香烟店里很快便谈好了。几分钟后我们便在阿梅洛街上花五法郎租了一个房间。窗帘放下,床罩也掀到一边去了,她并不急于尽快了事,这位杰曼。她坐在坐浴盆上擦肥皂,一面愉快地跟我东拉西扯,说她喜欢我穿的灯笼短裤。她认为它”棒极了”!从前是的,不过我已经穿破了屁股坐的地方,幸亏靠外衣遮住屁股。她仍跟我愉快地说着话,起来擦干了身子,突兀地扔下毛巾朝我随随便便走过来。她开始热切地抚弄自己的下体,用两只手摸它、爱抚它、拍它。当时她滔滔不绝说话的劲头儿和把下体插到我鼻子底下这个动作至今仍使我难以忘怀。她谈到它时那种口气仿佛叫你觉得那玩艺凡是她花了大价钱买来的,身体以外的某件东西,这件东西的价值随着时间的推移在增加,现在她在这个世界上最宝贵的东西便莫过于它了。她的话赋予它一种奇妙的芬芳气味,它已不再只是她的下体,还是一件宝贝、一件魔物、一件极有魔力的宝贝、一件上帝赋予的礼物,而且并不因为她每天都用它换几个钱而丧失一点点魔力。.

Part 3 Chapter 2As she flung herself on the bed, with legs spread wide apart, she cupped it with her hands and stroked it some more, murmuring all the while in that hoarse, cracked voice of hers that it was good, beautiful, a treasure, a little treasure. And it was good, that little pussy of hers! That Sunday afternoon, with its poisonous breath of spring in the air, everything clicked again. As we stepped out of the hotel I looked her over again in the harsh light of day and I saw clearly what a whore she was - the gold teeth, the geranium in her hat, the run-down heels, etc., etc. Even the fact that she had wormed a dinner out of me and cigarettes and taxi hadn't the least disturbing effect upon me. I encouraged it, in fact. I liked her so well that after dinner we went back to the hotel again and took another shot at it. "For love," this time. And again that big, bushy thing of hers worked its bloom and magic. It began to have an independent existence - for me too. There was Germaine and there was that rose bush of hers. I liked them separately and I liked them together.sters, sweetbreads. Some day, when I'm standing at the corner of 42nd Street and Broadway, I'm going to remember this title and I'm going to put down everything that goes on in my noodle - caviar, rain drops, axle grease, vermicelli, liverwurst - slices and slices of it. And I'll tell no one why, after I had put everything down, I suddenly went home and chopped the baby to pieces. Un acte gratuit pour vous, cher monsieur si bien coupé en tranches!  她倒在床上,大叉着双腿,用两只手捂着它又抚弄了一阵,同时还一直用粗哑的声音咕哝着,说它好、漂亮,是一件宝贝、一件小宝贝。不过她那个小玩艺儿也的确不错!那个星期日下午空气中弥漫着春天的有毒气味,一切都很圆满。走出旅馆时我在外面刺眼的光线下重新细细打量了她一番,清清楚楚地看清了她是怎样的一个婊子—金牙、帽子上插的天竺葵、踩塌下去的鞋跟,等等,等等。更有甚者,她从我这儿骗到了一顿饭吃、抽了我的烟、坐了我的出租车,可是这一切一点也没有使我气恼。老实讲,是我鼓励她这样干的。我十分喜欢她,于是吃完饭后我俩回到旅馆又睡了一次,这一回是”为了爱情”。她的大而多毛的玩艺儿又一次发挥了它的活力和魔力,对于我它也开始具有独立的生命了。这儿是杰曼,那儿是她毛茸茸的玩艺,我既爱杰曼同它一分为二,也爱她俩合二为一。  在靠近竞技广场不远的北城区,我停了几分钟欣赏这片地方的脏乱景色。同人们在低低的、同巴黎的旧交通要道平行的走道里看到的许多广场一样,这个广场是长方形的。广场中央有一些又破又旧的建筑,衰败不堪,一座倒在另一座顶上,形成了像一团肠子一样的一堆东西。地面不平,铺地的石板上尽是脏东西,很滑,真像一堆混杂着炉渣和垃圾的人屎尿。太阳很快要落下去了,天空中的色彩也消失了,紫色变成干血色,青贝色变成褐色,黯淡的灰色变成鸽粪色。到处都有一个歪七扭八的怪物站在窗子上,像猫头鹰一样挤眼睛,脸色苍白、骨瘦如柴的孩子们发出刺耳的尖叫声,患佝偻病的小顽童头上往往有医生用钳子夹过的印痕。墙里渗出一股恶臭味,那是发霉的床垫味。欧洲,中世纪的、怪诞的、恐怖的欧洲—B-mol调的交响曲。街正对面的竞技影院给它的尊贵的顾客们提供了这个大都市的各种景观。It was a Sunday afternoon, much like this, when I first met Germaine. I was strolling along the Boulevard Beaumarchais, rich by a hundred francs or so which my wife had frantically cabled from America. There was a touch of spring in the sir, a poisonous, malefic spring that seemed to burst from the manholes. Night after night I had been coming back to this quarter, attracted by certain leprous streets which only revealed their sinister splendor when the light of day had oozed away and the whores commenced to take up their posts. The Rue du Pasteur Wagner is one I recall in particular, corner of the Rue Amelot which hides behind the boulevard like a slumbering lizard. Here, at the neck of the bottle, so to speak, there was always a cluster of vultures who croaked and flapped their dirty wings, who reached out with sharp talons and plucked you into a doorway. Jolly, rapacious devils who didn't even give you time to button your pants when it was over. Led you into a little room off the street, a room without a window usually, and, sitting on the edge of the bed with skirts tucked up gave you a quick inspection, spat on your cock, and placed it for you. While you washed yourself another one stood at the door and, holding her victim by the hand, watched nonchalantly as you gave the finishing touches to your toilet..

2017 5:44 am   一个人怎么能空着肚子四处乱逛一整天,而且还不时勃起一回?这是”灵魂剖析家”们能轻而易举解释清楚的秘密之一。 在一个星期日下午,百叶窗都放下来,无产阶级以一种麻木、呆滞的方式占领了街道。有几条大路纵向延伸出去,只会使人联想到一只下疳的大公鸡。而恰恰是这些大路有力地吸引着人们,例如圣德尼街或圣殿郊区。正如从前纽约市的联邦广场或是纽约曼哈顿的鲍里街前段,人们被引诱到简易博物馆来看橱窗内陈列的蜡制的、被梅毒和其他性病侵蚀的人体各个器官。巴黎像一个各处都患了病的巨大有机体向外延伸,这些美丽的大道相比之下不那么令人厌恶只是因为它们体内的脓已挤出去了。  在靠近竞技广场不远的北城区,我停了几分钟欣赏这片地方的脏乱景色。同人们在低低的、同巴黎的旧交通要道平行的走道里看到的许多广场一样,这个广场是长方形的。广场中央有一些又破又旧的建筑,衰败不堪,一座倒在另一座顶上,形成了像一团肠子一样的一堆东西。地面不平,铺地的石板上尽是脏东西,很滑,真像一堆混杂着炉渣和垃圾的人屎尿。太阳很快要落下去了,天空中的色彩也消失了,紫色变成干血色,青贝色变成褐色,黯淡的灰色变成鸽粪色。到处都有一个歪七扭八的怪物站在窗子上,像猫头鹰一样挤眼睛,脸色苍白、骨瘦如柴的孩子们发出刺耳的尖叫声,患佝偻病的小顽童头上往往有医生用钳子夹过的印痕。墙里渗出一股恶臭味,那是发霉的床垫味。欧洲,中世纪的、怪诞的、恐怖的欧洲—B-mol调的交响曲。街正对面的竞技影院给它的尊贵的顾客们提供了这个大都市的各种景观。  走开时我又重新忆起那天看过的一本书。”这座城是一个屠宰场,尸体同屠夫混杂在一起,又被盗贼剥得精光,一层层躺在街上。狼从郊区悄悄溜进来吃他们,黑死病和其他瘟疫也来跟它们为伍,英国人也大踏步赶来。与此同时,死亡之舞在所有墓地的坟堆间旋转……”这书讲的是”愚蠢的查理”时代的巴黎轶事!一本可爱的书!看过后使人精神振奋、胃口大开,我至今仍为它着迷,我对文艺复兴时期的倡导人和先驱者知道的不多,不过对漂亮的面包师平博荷耐福夫人和让?卡波特大师这两人至今记忆犹新,一有空便想起他们。我也忘不了罗丹这个《流浪的犹太人》中的邪恶天才。他无法无天地胡作非为,”直到有一天被有八分之一黑人血统的塞西莉激怒并且智龋”坐在圣殿广场,冥想让? 卡博什手下屠宰老弱马匹的人的所做所为,我久久悲哀地想着”愚蠢的查理”的悲惨命运。他是一个智力不健全的人,在他的圣保罗旅馆大厅里转来转去,穿的是最脏最臭的破衣服,溃疡和害虫侵蚀着他的健康。别人丢给他一根骨头,他便像一条癫皮狗一样去啃。我在狮子街寻找从前兽栏的石头,他过去曾在这儿喂宠物,这是除了同他”出身低贱的伙伴”奥代特?德?尚帕狄丰打牌以外的唯一消遣。这可怜的傻子。Coming away my mind reverts to a book that I was reading only the other day. "The town was a shambles; corpses, mangled by butchers and stripped by plunderers, lay thick in the streets; wolves sneaked from the suburbs to eat them; the black death and other plagues crept in to keep them company, and the English came marching on; the while the danse macabre whirled about the tombs in all the cemeteries…" Paris during the days of Charles the Silly! A lovely book! Refreshing, appetizing. I'm still enchanted by it. About the patrons and prodromes of the Renaissance I know little, but Madam Pimpernel, la belle boulangère, and Ma?tre Jehan Crapotte, l'orfèvre, these occupy my spare thoughts still. Not forgetting Rodin, the evil genius of The Wandering Jew, who practised his nefarious ways "until the day when he was enflamed and outwitted by the octoroon Cecily." Sitting in the Square du Temple, musing over the doings of the horse knackers led by Jean Caboche, I have thought long and ruefully over the sad fate of Charles the Silly. A half wit, who prowled about the halls of his H?tel St. Paul, garbed in the filthiest rags, eaten away by ulcers and vermin, gnawing a bone, when they flung him one, like a mangy dog. At the Rue des Lions I looked for the stones of the old menagerie where he once fed his pets. His only diversion, poor dolt, aside from those card games with his "low born companion," Odette de Champdivers.. read more

Chauhan.

  走开时我又重新忆起那天看过的一本书。”这座城是一个屠宰场,尸体同屠夫混杂在一起,又被盗贼剥得精光,一层层躺在街上。狼从郊区悄悄溜进来吃他们,黑死病和其他瘟疫也来跟它们为伍,英国人也大踏步赶来。与此同时,死亡之舞在所有墓地的坟堆间旋转……”这书讲的是”愚蠢的查理”时代的巴黎轶事!一本可爱的书!看过后使人精神振奋、胃口大开,我至今仍为它着迷,我对文艺复兴时期的倡导人和先驱者知道的不多,不过对漂亮的面包师平博荷耐福夫人和让?卡波特大师这两人至今记忆犹新,一有空便想起他们。我也忘不了罗丹这个《流浪的犹太人》中的邪恶天才。他无法无天地胡作非为,”直到有一天被有八分之一黑人血统的塞西莉激怒并且智龋”坐在圣殿广场,冥想让? 卡博什手下屠宰老弱马匹的人的所做所为,我久久悲哀地想着”愚蠢的查理”的悲惨命运。他是一个智力不健全的人,在他的圣保罗旅馆大厅里转来转去,穿的是最脏最臭的破衣服,溃疡和害虫侵蚀着他的健康。别人丢给他一根骨头,他便像一条癫皮狗一样去啃。我在狮子街寻找从前兽栏的石头,他过去曾在这儿喂宠物,这是除了同他”出身低贱的伙伴”奥代特?德?尚帕狄丰打牌以外的唯一消遣。这可怜的傻子。.

As she flung herself on the bed, with legs spread wide apart, she cupped it with her hands and stroked it some more, murmuring all the while in that hoarse, cracked voice of hers that it was good, beautiful, a treasure, a little treasure. And it was good, that little pussy of hers! That Sunday afternoon, with its poisonous breath of spring in the air, everything clicked again. As we stepped out of the hotel I looked her over again in the harsh light of day and I saw clearly what a whore she was - the gold teeth, the geranium in her hat, the run-down heels, etc., etc. Even the fact that she had wormed a dinner out of me and cigarettes and taxi hadn't the least disturbing effect upon me. I encouraged it, in fact. I liked her so well that after dinner we went back to the hotel again and took another shot at it. "For love," this time. And again that big, bushy thing of hers worked its bloom and magic. It began to have an independent existence - for me too. There was Germaine and there was that rose bush of hers. I liked them separately and I liked them together.How a man can wander about all day on an empty belly, and even get an erection once in a while, is one of those mysteries which are too easily explained by the "anatomists of the soul." On a Sunday afternoon, when the shutters are down and the proletariat possesses the street in a kind of dumb torpor, there are certain thoroughfares which remind one of nothing less than a big chancrous cock laid open longitudinally. And it is just these highways, the Rue St. Denis, for instance, or the Faubourg du Temple - which attract one irresistibly, much as in the old days, around Union Square or the upper reaches of the Bowery, one was drawn to the dime museums where in the show windows there were displayed wax reproductions of various organs of the body eaten away by syphilis and other venereal diseases. The city sprouts out like a huge organism diseased in every part, the beautiful thoroughfares only a little less repulsive because they have been drained of their pus.  走开时我又重新忆起那天看过的一本书。”这座城是一个屠宰场,尸体同屠夫混杂在一起,又被盗贼剥得精光,一层层躺在街上。狼从郊区悄悄溜进来吃他们,黑死病和其他瘟疫也来跟它们为伍,英国人也大踏步赶来。与此同时,死亡之舞在所有墓地的坟堆间旋转……”这书讲的是”愚蠢的查理”时代的巴黎轶事!一本可爱的书!看过后使人精神振奋、胃口大开,我至今仍为它着迷,我对文艺复兴时期的倡导人和先驱者知道的不多,不过对漂亮的面包师平博荷耐福夫人和让?卡波特大师这两人至今记忆犹新,一有空便想起他们。我也忘不了罗丹这个《流浪的犹太人》中的邪恶天才。他无法无天地胡作非为,”直到有一天被有八分之一黑人血统的塞西莉激怒并且智龋”坐在圣殿广场,冥想让? 卡博什手下屠宰老弱马匹的人的所做所为,我久久悲哀地想着”愚蠢的查理”的悲惨命运。他是一个智力不健全的人,在他的圣保罗旅馆大厅里转来转去,穿的是最脏最臭的破衣服,溃疡和害虫侵蚀着他的健康。别人丢给他一根骨头,他便像一条癫皮狗一样去啃。我在狮子街寻找从前兽栏的石头,他过去曾在这儿喂宠物,这是除了同他”出身低贱的伙伴”奥代特?德?尚帕狄丰打牌以外的唯一消遣。这可怜的傻子。When some time later I came to write about Claude, it was not Claude that I was thinking of but Germaine… "All the men she's been with and now you, just you, and barges going by, masts and hulls, the whole damned current of life flowing through you, through her, through all the guys behind you and after you, the flowers and the birds and the sun streaming in and the fragrance of it choking you, annihilating you." That was for Germaine! Claude was not the same, though I admired her tremendously - I even thought for a while that I loved her. Claude had a soul and a conscience; she had refinement, too, which is b  她倒在床上,大叉着双腿,用两只手捂着它又抚弄了一阵,同时还一直用粗哑的声音咕哝着,说它好、漂亮,是一件宝贝、一件小宝贝。不过她那个小玩艺儿也的确不错!那个星期日下午空气中弥漫着春天的有毒气味,一切都很圆满。走出旅馆时我在外面刺眼的光线下重新细细打量了她一番,清清楚楚地看清了她是怎样的一个婊子—金牙、帽子上插的天竺葵、踩塌下去的鞋跟,等等,等等。更有甚者,她从我这儿骗到了一顿饭吃、抽了我的烟、坐了我的出租车,可是这一切一点也没有使我气恼。老实讲,是我鼓励她这样干的。我十分喜欢她,于是吃完饭后我俩回到旅馆又睡了一次,这一回是”为了爱情”。她的大而多毛的玩艺儿又一次发挥了它的活力和魔力,对于我它也开始具有独立的生命了。这儿是杰曼,那儿是她毛茸茸的玩艺,我既爱杰曼同它一分为二,也爱她俩合二为一。  一个人怎么能空着肚子四处乱逛一整天,而且还不时勃起一回?这是”灵魂剖析家”们能轻而易举解释清楚的秘密之一。 在一个星期日下午,百叶窗都放下来,无产阶级以一种麻木、呆滞的方式占领了街道。有几条大路纵向延伸出去,只会使人联想到一只下疳的大公鸡。而恰恰是这些大路有力地吸引着人们,例如圣德尼街或圣殿郊区。正如从前纽约市的联邦广场或是纽约曼哈顿的鲍里街前段,人们被引诱到简易博物馆来看橱窗内陈列的蜡制的、被梅毒和其他性病侵蚀的人体各个器官。巴黎像一个各处都患了病的巨大有机体向外延伸,这些美丽的大道相比之下不那么令人厌恶只是因为它们体内的脓已挤出去了。sters, sweetbreads. Some day, when I'm standing at the corner of 42nd Street and Broadway, I'm going to remember this title and I'm going to put down everything that goes on in my noodle - caviar, rain drops, axle grease, vermicelli, liverwurst - slices and slices of it. And I'll tell no one why, after I had put everything down, I suddenly went home and chopped the baby to pieces. Un acte gratuit pour vous, cher monsieur si bien coupé en tranches!As I say, she was different, Germaine. Later, when she discovered my true circumstances, she treated me nobly - blew me to drinks, gave me credit, pawned my things, introduced me to her friends, and so on. She even apologized for not lending me money, which I understood quite well after her maquereau had been pointed out to me. Night after night I walked down the Boulevard Beaumarchais to the little tabac where they all congregated and I waited for her to stroll in and give me a few minutes of her precious time..

As I say, she was different, Germaine. Later, when she discovered my true circumstances, she treated me nobly - blew me to drinks, gave me credit, pawned my things, introduced me to her friends, and so on. She even apologized for not lending me money, which I understood quite well after her maquereau had been pointed out to me. Night after night I walked down the Boulevard Beaumarchais to the little tabac where they all congregated and I waited for her to stroll in and give me a few minutes of her precious time.How a man can wander about all day on an empty belly, and even get an erection once in a while, is one of those mysteries which are too easily explained by the "anatomists of the soul." On a Sunday afternoon, when the shutters are down and the proletariat possesses the street in a kind of dumb torpor, there are certain thoroughfares which remind one of nothing less than a big chancrous cock laid open longitudinally. And it is just these highways, the Rue St. Denis, for instance, or the Faubourg du Temple - which attract one irresistibly, much as in the old days, around Union Square or the upper reaches of the Bowery, one was drawn to the dime museums where in the show windows there were displayed wax reproductions of various organs of the body eaten away by syphilis and other venereal diseases. The city sprouts out like a huge organism diseased in every part, the beautiful thoroughfares only a little less repulsive because they have been drained of their pus.  她倒在床上,大叉着双腿,用两只手捂着它又抚弄了一阵,同时还一直用粗哑的声音咕哝着,说它好、漂亮,是一件宝贝、一件小宝贝。不过她那个小玩艺儿也的确不错!那个星期日下午空气中弥漫着春天的有毒气味,一切都很圆满。走出旅馆时我在外面刺眼的光线下重新细细打量了她一番,清清楚楚地看清了她是怎样的一个婊子—金牙、帽子上插的天竺葵、踩塌下去的鞋跟,等等,等等。更有甚者,她从我这儿骗到了一顿饭吃、抽了我的烟、坐了我的出租车,可是这一切一点也没有使我气恼。老实讲,是我鼓励她这样干的。我十分喜欢她,于是吃完饭后我俩回到旅馆又睡了一次,这一回是”为了爱情”。她的大而多毛的玩艺儿又一次发挥了它的活力和魔力,对于我它也开始具有独立的生命了。这儿是杰曼,那儿是她毛茸茸的玩艺,我既爱杰曼同它一分为二,也爱她俩合二为一。How a man can wander about all day on an empty belly, and even get an erection once in a while, is one of those mysteries which are too easily explained by the "anatomists of the soul." On a Sunday afternoon, when the shutters are down and the proletariat possesses the street in a kind of dumb torpor, there are certain thoroughfares which remind one of nothing less than a big chancrous cock laid open longitudinally. And it is just these highways, the Rue St. Denis, for instance, or the Faubourg du Temple - which attract one irresistibly, much as in the old days, around Union Square or the upper reaches of the Bowery, one was drawn to the dime museums where in the show windows there were displayed wax reproductions of various organs of the body eaten away by syphilis and other venereal diseases. The city sprouts out like a huge organism diseased in every part, the beautiful thoroughfares only a little less repulsive because they have been drained of their pus.我头一回遇见杰曼也是在一个星期日的下午,同今天差不多。那天我正沿着博马舍林荫道散步,身上装着我妻子从美国赶忙寄来的一百多法郎,很阔气。天气已有点春天的意思了,一个有毒有害的春天似乎就要从街上的下水道出入孔溢出。我每天夜里都回到这儿来,因为这儿有几条患麻风病的街道吸引着我,它们要待白天的光亮渐渐消失、妓女们各就各位后才暴露出其邪恶的光辉。尤其令我印象深刻的是巴斯德一瓦格纳街,它就位于藏在林荫大道后面、像一条熟睡的蜥蜴似的阿梅洛特街角上。在这个瓶子颈里总聚集着一串秃鹰,她们哇哇叫着扇动肮脏的翅膀,她们伸出锋利的爪子把你抓进一个门里。她们全是一伙快活而又贪婪的魔鬼,完事之后连系裤子的时间都不给你。她们领你来到背街的一个小房间里,通常是没有窗子的房间,然后她们撩起裙子坐在床边上,很快查看你一番,朝你那玩艺上吐口唾沫便替你把它塞进去了。你还在洗身子时,另一个婊子便扯着她的猎物站在门口等着呢,她冷淡地望着你最后草草洗几下了事。.

How a man can wander about all day on an empty belly, and even get an erection once in a while, is one of those mysteries which are too easily explained by the "anatomists of the soul." On a Sunday afternoon, when the shutters are down and the proletariat possesses the street in a kind of dumb torpor, there are certain thoroughfares which remind one of nothing less than a big chancrous cock laid open longitudinally. And it is just these highways, the Rue St. Denis, for instance, or the Faubourg du Temple - which attract one irresistibly, much as in the old days, around Union Square or the upper reaches of the Bowery, one was drawn to the dime museums where in the show windows there were displayed wax reproductions of various organs of the body eaten away by syphilis and other venereal diseases. The city sprouts out like a huge organism diseased in every part, the beautiful thoroughfares only a little less repulsive because they have been drained of their pus.  后来当我提笔写克劳德时,我心里想的不是克劳德而是杰曼……”同她厮混过的全体男人和你,现在只有你了。船驶过去,桅杆和船身都过去了,人生的全部见鬼的激流从你身上流过,从她身上流过,从紧跟着你的所有家伙身上流过。鲜花、小鸟和阳光都涌进来,它们的芬芳香气将呛死你、毁灭你。”这是为杰曼写的。克劳德则是另一码事,尽管我也十分崇拜她,有一阵子我还自以为爱她呢。克劳德有灵魂,有良心,行为也高尚,最后这一点在一个婊子身上倒不是什么优点。克劳德总叫人认为她有几分悲哀,她显然是无意中给人留下这种印象的—你不过只是命运选派来毁灭她的那股水流中的一部分。我说了,她是无意的,因为她是全世界最不可能有意识地在别人心目中造成这样一种印象的女人。她腼腆、敏感,所以不会那么做。克劳德在本质上完全是一位具有中等教养与智力的很不错的法国姑娘。生活捉弄了她,她身上有种气质,这种气质不够强健,无法应付日常生活的刺激。路易?菲利普的那一番可怕的话正是说她的,”当某一夜来临时一切都完了,许多血盆大口朝我们逼来,我们再也无力直立。我们的肌肉从身上耷拉下来,仿佛已被每张嘴嚼烂了。”从另一方面看,杰曼是个天生的婊子,她对自己扮演的角色十二万分满意,实际上还很喜欢这活儿呢。没有什么是会使她感到不快的,除了有时肚子饿、鞋①路易。菲利普(1874一1909),法国作家。--译者子破这类不足挂齿的区区小事之外,无聊!这便是她的最大不快了。毫无疑问,她也曾有过嫖客过多的日子,但也是仅此而已。大部分时间里她喜欢这种生活,或者表现出喜欢的样子。这当然还是有区别的—跟谁出去,同谁回来,不过要紧的是男人。一个男人,这就是她梦寐以求的。一个两腿问有件东西的男人,那个东西要能使她欢悦,使她狂喜得身子乱扭一气,同时还要体验到两人已合为一体,体验到人生的乐趣,只有在那儿她才能体验到人生,即在她用双手捂住的部位。sters, sweetbreads. Some day, when I'm standing at the corner of 42nd Street and Broadway, I'm going to remember this title and I'm going to put down everything that goes on in my noodle - caviar, rain drops, axle grease, vermicelli, liverwurst - slices and slices of it. And I'll tell no one why, after I had put everything down, I suddenly went home and chopped the baby to pieces. Un acte gratuit pour vous, cher monsieur si bien coupé en tranches!.

At the City Nortier, somewhere near the Place du Combat, I pause a few minutes to drink in the full squalor of the scene. It is a rectangular court like many another which one glimpses through the low passageways that flank the old arteries of Paris. In the middle of the court is a clump of decrepit buildings which have so rotted away that they have collapsed on one another and formed a sort of intestinal embrace. The ground is uneven, the flagging slippery with slime. A sort of human dump heap which has been filled in with cinders and dry garbage. The sun is setting fast. The colors die. They shift from purple to dried blood, from nacre to bister, from cool dead grays to pigeon shit. Here and there a lopsided monster stands in the window blinking like an owl. There is the shrill squawk of children with pale faces and bony limbs, rickety little urchins marked with the forceps. A fetid odor seeps from the walls, the odor of a mildewed mattress. Europe - medieval, grotesque, monstrous: a symphony in B mol. Directly across the street the Ciné Combat offers its distinguished clientele Metropolis.  走开时我又重新忆起那天看过的一本书。”这座城是一个屠宰场,尸体同屠夫混杂在一起,又被盗贼剥得精光,一层层躺在街上。狼从郊区悄悄溜进来吃他们,黑死病和其他瘟疫也来跟它们为伍,英国人也大踏步赶来。与此同时,死亡之舞在所有墓地的坟堆间旋转……”这书讲的是”愚蠢的查理”时代的巴黎轶事!一本可爱的书!看过后使人精神振奋、胃口大开,我至今仍为它着迷,我对文艺复兴时期的倡导人和先驱者知道的不多,不过对漂亮的面包师平博荷耐福夫人和让?卡波特大师这两人至今记忆犹新,一有空便想起他们。我也忘不了罗丹这个《流浪的犹太人》中的邪恶天才。他无法无天地胡作非为,”直到有一天被有八分之一黑人血统的塞西莉激怒并且智龋”坐在圣殿广场,冥想让? 卡博什手下屠宰老弱马匹的人的所做所为,我久久悲哀地想着”愚蠢的查理”的悲惨命运。他是一个智力不健全的人,在他的圣保罗旅馆大厅里转来转去,穿的是最脏最臭的破衣服,溃疡和害虫侵蚀着他的健康。别人丢给他一根骨头,他便像一条癫皮狗一样去啃。我在狮子街寻找从前兽栏的石头,他过去曾在这儿喂宠物,这是除了同他”出身低贱的伙伴”奥代特?德?尚帕狄丰打牌以外的唯一消遣。这可怜的傻子。Coming away my mind reverts to a book that I was reading only the other day. "The town was a shambles; corpses, mangled by butchers and stripped by plunderers, lay thick in the streets; wolves sneaked from the suburbs to eat them; the black death and other plagues crept in to keep them company, and the English came marching on; the while the danse macabre whirled about the tombs in all the cemeteries…" Paris during the days of Charles the Silly! A lovely book! Refreshing, appetizing. I'm still enchanted by it. About the patrons and prodromes of the Renaissance I know little, but Madam Pimpernel, la belle boulangère, and Ma?tre Jehan Crapotte, l'orfèvre, these occupy my spare thoughts still. Not forgetting Rodin, the evil genius of The Wandering Jew, who practised his nefarious ways "until the day when he was enflamed and outwitted by the octoroon Cecily." Sitting in the Square du Temple, musing over the doings of the horse knackers led by Jean Caboche, I have thought long and ruefully over the sad fate of Charles the Silly. A half wit, who prowled about the halls of his H?tel St. Paul, garbed in the filthiest rags, eaten away by ulcers and vermin, gnawing a bone, when they flung him one, like a mangy dog. At the Rue des Lions I looked for the stones of the old menagerie where he once fed his pets. His only diversion, poor dolt, aside from those card games with his "low born companion," Odette de Champdivers.  我刚才说过,杰曼是与众不同的。后来她发现了我的实际境况,便宽宏大度地待我—花很多钱请我喝酒、让我赊帐、帮我典当东西、把我介绍给她的朋友以及提供其它诸如此类的帮助。她还为没能借给我钱道歉,这我完全能理解,因为后来她把她的鸨母指给我看了。我每天夜里沿着博马舍林荫道来到那家小香烟店,妓女们都聚集在这儿。我等着她回来把她的宝贵时间匀给我几分钟。When some time later I came to write about Claude, it was not Claude that I was thinking of but Germaine… "All the men she's been with and now you, just you, and barges going by, masts and hulls, the whole damned current of life flowing through you, through her, through all the guys behind you and after you, the flowers and the birds and the sun streaming in and the fragrance of it choking you, annihilating you." That was for Germaine! Claude was not the same, though I admired her tremendously - I even thought for a while that I loved her. Claude had a soul and a conscience; she had refinement, too, which is b.

  她倒在床上,大叉着双腿,用两只手捂着它又抚弄了一阵,同时还一直用粗哑的声音咕哝着,说它好、漂亮,是一件宝贝、一件小宝贝。不过她那个小玩艺儿也的确不错!那个星期日下午空气中弥漫着春天的有毒气味,一切都很圆满。走出旅馆时我在外面刺眼的光线下重新细细打量了她一番,清清楚楚地看清了她是怎样的一个婊子—金牙、帽子上插的天竺葵、踩塌下去的鞋跟,等等,等等。更有甚者,她从我这儿骗到了一顿饭吃、抽了我的烟、坐了我的出租车,可是这一切一点也没有使我气恼。老实讲,是我鼓励她这样干的。我十分喜欢她,于是吃完饭后我俩回到旅馆又睡了一次,这一回是”为了爱情”。她的大而多毛的玩艺儿又一次发挥了它的活力和魔力,对于我它也开始具有独立的生命了。这儿是杰曼,那儿是她毛茸茸的玩艺,我既爱杰曼同它一分为二,也爱她俩合二为一。我头一回遇见杰曼也是在一个星期日的下午,同今天差不多。那天我正沿着博马舍林荫道散步,身上装着我妻子从美国赶忙寄来的一百多法郎,很阔气。天气已有点春天的意思了,一个有毒有害的春天似乎就要从街上的下水道出入孔溢出。我每天夜里都回到这儿来,因为这儿有几条患麻风病的街道吸引着我,它们要待白天的光亮渐渐消失、妓女们各就各位后才暴露出其邪恶的光辉。尤其令我印象深刻的是巴斯德一瓦格纳街,它就位于藏在林荫大道后面、像一条熟睡的蜥蜴似的阿梅洛特街角上。在这个瓶子颈里总聚集着一串秃鹰,她们哇哇叫着扇动肮脏的翅膀,她们伸出锋利的爪子把你抓进一个门里。她们全是一伙快活而又贪婪的魔鬼,完事之后连系裤子的时间都不给你。她们领你来到背街的一个小房间里,通常是没有窗子的房间,然后她们撩起裙子坐在床边上,很快查看你一番,朝你那玩艺上吐口唾沫便替你把它塞进去了。你还在洗身子时,另一个婊子便扯着她的猎物站在门口等着呢,她冷淡地望着你最后草草洗几下了事。. read more

Coming away my mind reverts to a book that I was reading only the other day. "The town was a shambles; corpses, mangled by butchers and stripped by plunderers, lay thick in the streets; wolves sneaked from the suburbs to eat them; the black death and other plagues crept in to keep them company, and the English came marching on; the while the danse macabre whirled about the tombs in all the cemeteries…" Paris during the days of Charles the Silly! A lovely book! Refreshing, appetizing. I'm still enchanted by it. About the patrons and prodromes of the Renaissance I know little, but Madam Pimpernel, la belle boulangère, and Ma?tre Jehan Crapotte, l'orfèvre, these occupy my spare thoughts still. Not forgetting Rodin, the evil genius of The Wandering Jew, who practised his nefarious ways "until the day when he was enflamed and outwitted by the octoroon Cecily." Sitting in the Square du Temple, musing over the doings of the horse knackers led by Jean Caboche, I have thought long and ruefully over the sad fate of Charles the Silly. A half wit, who prowled about the halls of his H?tel St. Paul, garbed in the filthiest rags, eaten away by ulcers and vermin, gnawing a bone, when they flung him one, like a mangy dog. At the Rue des Lions I looked for the stones of the old menagerie where he once fed his pets. His only diversion, poor dolt, aside from those card games with his "low born companion," Odette de Champdivers.When some time later I came to write about Claude, it was not Claude that I was thinking of but Germaine… "All the men she's been with and now you, just you, and barges going by, masts and hulls, the whole damned current of life flowing through you, through her, through all the guys behind you and after you, the flowers and the birds and the sun streaming in and the fragrance of it choking you, annihilating you." That was for Germaine! Claude was not the same, though I admired her tremendously - I even thought for a while that I loved her. Claude had a soul and a conscience; she had refinement, too, which is bHow a man can wander about all day on an empty belly, and even get an erection once in a while, is one of those mysteries which are too easily explained by the "anatomists of the soul." On a Sunday afternoon, when the shutters are down and the proletariat possesses the street in a kind of dumb torpor, there are certain thoroughfares which remind one of nothing less than a big chancrous cock laid open longitudinally. And it is just these highways, the Rue St. Denis, for instance, or the Faubourg du Temple - which attract one irresistibly, much as in the old days, around Union Square or the upper reaches of the Bowery, one was drawn to the dime museums where in the show windows there were displayed wax reproductions of various organs of the body eaten away by syphilis and other venereal diseases. The city sprouts out like a huge organism diseased in every part, the beautiful thoroughfares only a little less repulsive because they have been drained of their pus.  我刚才说过,杰曼是与众不同的。后来她发现了我的实际境况,便宽宏大度地待我—花很多钱请我喝酒、让我赊帐、帮我典当东西、把我介绍给她的朋友以及提供其它诸如此类的帮助。她还为没能借给我钱道歉,这我完全能理解,因为后来她把她的鸨母指给我看了。我每天夜里沿着博马舍林荫道来到那家小香烟店,妓女们都聚集在这儿。我等着她回来把她的宝贵时间匀给我几分钟。.

  我刚才说过,杰曼是与众不同的。后来她发现了我的实际境况,便宽宏大度地待我—花很多钱请我喝酒、让我赊帐、帮我典当东西、把我介绍给她的朋友以及提供其它诸如此类的帮助。她还为没能借给我钱道歉,这我完全能理解,因为后来她把她的鸨母指给我看了。我每天夜里沿着博马舍林荫道来到那家小香烟店,妓女们都聚集在这儿。我等着她回来把她的宝贵时间匀给我几分钟。Part 3 Chapter 2我头一回遇见杰曼也是在一个星期日的下午,同今天差不多。那天我正沿着博马舍林荫道散步,身上装着我妻子从美国赶忙寄来的一百多法郎,很阔气。天气已有点春天的意思了,一个有毒有害的春天似乎就要从街上的下水道出入孔溢出。我每天夜里都回到这儿来,因为这儿有几条患麻风病的街道吸引着我,它们要待白天的光亮渐渐消失、妓女们各就各位后才暴露出其邪恶的光辉。尤其令我印象深刻的是巴斯德一瓦格纳街,它就位于藏在林荫大道后面、像一条熟睡的蜥蜴似的阿梅洛特街角上。在这个瓶子颈里总聚集着一串秃鹰,她们哇哇叫着扇动肮脏的翅膀,她们伸出锋利的爪子把你抓进一个门里。她们全是一伙快活而又贪婪的魔鬼,完事之后连系裤子的时间都不给你。她们领你来到背街的一个小房间里,通常是没有窗子的房间,然后她们撩起裙子坐在床边上,很快查看你一番,朝你那玩艺上吐口唾沫便替你把它塞进去了。你还在洗身子时,另一个婊子便扯着她的猎物站在门口等着呢,她冷淡地望着你最后草草洗几下了事。我头一回遇见杰曼也是在一个星期日的下午,同今天差不多。那天我正沿着博马舍林荫道散步,身上装着我妻子从美国赶忙寄来的一百多法郎,很阔气。天气已有点春天的意思了,一个有毒有害的春天似乎就要从街上的下水道出入孔溢出。我每天夜里都回到这儿来,因为这儿有几条患麻风病的街道吸引着我,它们要待白天的光亮渐渐消失、妓女们各就各位后才暴露出其邪恶的光辉。尤其令我印象深刻的是巴斯德一瓦格纳街,它就位于藏在林荫大道后面、像一条熟睡的蜥蜴似的阿梅洛特街角上。在这个瓶子颈里总聚集着一串秃鹰,她们哇哇叫着扇动肮脏的翅膀,她们伸出锋利的爪子把你抓进一个门里。她们全是一伙快活而又贪婪的魔鬼,完事之后连系裤子的时间都不给你。她们领你来到背街的一个小房间里,通常是没有窗子的房间,然后她们撩起裙子坐在床边上,很快查看你一番,朝你那玩艺上吐口唾沫便替你把它塞进去了。你还在洗身子时,另一个婊子便扯着她的猎物站在门口等着呢,她冷淡地望着你最后草草洗几下了事。Coming away my mind reverts to a book that I was reading only the other day. "The town was a shambles; corpses, mangled by butchers and stripped by plunderers, lay thick in the streets; wolves sneaked from the suburbs to eat them; the black death and other plagues crept in to keep them company, and the English came marching on; the while the danse macabre whirled about the tombs in all the cemeteries…" Paris during the days of Charles the Silly! A lovely book! Refreshing, appetizing. I'm still enchanted by it. About the patrons and prodromes of the Renaissance I know little, but Madam Pimpernel, la belle boulangère, and Ma?tre Jehan Crapotte, l'orfèvre, these occupy my spare thoughts still. Not forgetting Rodin, the evil genius of The Wandering Jew, who practised his nefarious ways "until the day when he was enflamed and outwitted by the octoroon Cecily." Sitting in the Square du Temple, musing over the doings of the horse knackers led by Jean Caboche, I have thought long and ruefully over the sad fate of Charles the Silly. A half wit, who prowled about the halls of his H?tel St. Paul, garbed in the filthiest rags, eaten away by ulcers and vermin, gnawing a bone, when they flung him one, like a mangy dog. At the Rue des Lions I looked for the stones of the old menagerie where he once fed his pets. His only diversion, poor dolt, aside from those card games with his "low born companion," Odette de Champdivers..

As she flung herself on the bed, with legs spread wide apart, she cupped it with her hands and stroked it some more, murmuring all the while in that hoarse, cracked voice of hers that it was good, beautiful, a treasure, a little treasure. And it was good, that little pussy of hers! That Sunday afternoon, with its poisonous breath of spring in the air, everything clicked again. As we stepped out of the hotel I looked her over again in the harsh light of day and I saw clearly what a whore she was - the gold teeth, the geranium in her hat, the run-down heels, etc., etc. Even the fact that she had wormed a dinner out of me and cigarettes and taxi hadn't the least disturbing effect upon me. I encouraged it, in fact. I liked her so well that after dinner we went back to the hotel again and took another shot at it. "For love," this time. And again that big, bushy thing of hers worked its bloom and magic. It began to have an independent existence - for me too. There was Germaine and there was that rose bush of hers. I liked them separately and I liked them together.At the City Nortier, somewhere near the Place du Combat, I pause a few minutes to drink in the full squalor of the scene. It is a rectangular court like many another which one glimpses through the low passageways that flank the old arteries of Paris. In the middle of the court is a clump of decrepit buildings which have so rotted away that they have collapsed on one another and formed a sort of intestinal embrace. The ground is uneven, the flagging slippery with slime. A sort of human dump heap which has been filled in with cinders and dry garbage. The sun is setting fast. The colors die. They shift from purple to dried blood, from nacre to bister, from cool dead grays to pigeon shit. Here and there a lopsided monster stands in the window blinking like an owl. There is the shrill squawk of children with pale faces and bony limbs, rickety little urchins marked with the forceps. A fetid odor seeps from the walls, the odor of a mildewed mattress. Europe - medieval, grotesque, monstrous: a symphony in B mol. Directly across the street the Ciné Combat offers its distinguished clientele Metropolis.  走开时我又重新忆起那天看过的一本书。”这座城是一个屠宰场,尸体同屠夫混杂在一起,又被盗贼剥得精光,一层层躺在街上。狼从郊区悄悄溜进来吃他们,黑死病和其他瘟疫也来跟它们为伍,英国人也大踏步赶来。与此同时,死亡之舞在所有墓地的坟堆间旋转……”这书讲的是”愚蠢的查理”时代的巴黎轶事!一本可爱的书!看过后使人精神振奋、胃口大开,我至今仍为它着迷,我对文艺复兴时期的倡导人和先驱者知道的不多,不过对漂亮的面包师平博荷耐福夫人和让?卡波特大师这两人至今记忆犹新,一有空便想起他们。我也忘不了罗丹这个《流浪的犹太人》中的邪恶天才。他无法无天地胡作非为,”直到有一天被有八分之一黑人血统的塞西莉激怒并且智龋”坐在圣殿广场,冥想让? 卡博什手下屠宰老弱马匹的人的所做所为,我久久悲哀地想着”愚蠢的查理”的悲惨命运。他是一个智力不健全的人,在他的圣保罗旅馆大厅里转来转去,穿的是最脏最臭的破衣服,溃疡和害虫侵蚀着他的健康。别人丢给他一根骨头,他便像一条癫皮狗一样去啃。我在狮子街寻找从前兽栏的石头,他过去曾在这儿喂宠物,这是除了同他”出身低贱的伙伴”奥代特?德?尚帕狄丰打牌以外的唯一消遣。这可怜的傻子。  后来当我提笔写克劳德时,我心里想的不是克劳德而是杰曼……”同她厮混过的全体男人和你,现在只有你了。船驶过去,桅杆和船身都过去了,人生的全部见鬼的激流从你身上流过,从她身上流过,从紧跟着你的所有家伙身上流过。鲜花、小鸟和阳光都涌进来,它们的芬芳香气将呛死你、毁灭你。”这是为杰曼写的。克劳德则是另一码事,尽管我也十分崇拜她,有一阵子我还自以为爱她呢。克劳德有灵魂,有良心,行为也高尚,最后这一点在一个婊子身上倒不是什么优点。克劳德总叫人认为她有几分悲哀,她显然是无意中给人留下这种印象的—你不过只是命运选派来毁灭她的那股水流中的一部分。我说了,她是无意的,因为她是全世界最不可能有意识地在别人心目中造成这样一种印象的女人。她腼腆、敏感,所以不会那么做。克劳德在本质上完全是一位具有中等教养与智力的很不错的法国姑娘。生活捉弄了她,她身上有种气质,这种气质不够强健,无法应付日常生活的刺激。路易?菲利普的那一番可怕的话正是说她的,”当某一夜来临时一切都完了,许多血盆大口朝我们逼来,我们再也无力直立。我们的肌肉从身上耷拉下来,仿佛已被每张嘴嚼烂了。”从另一方面看,杰曼是个天生的婊子,她对自己扮演的角色十二万分满意,实际上还很喜欢这活儿呢。没有什么是会使她感到不快的,除了有时肚子饿、鞋①路易。菲利普(1874一1909),法国作家。--译者子破这类不足挂齿的区区小事之外,无聊!这便是她的最大不快了。毫无疑问,她也曾有过嫖客过多的日子,但也是仅此而已。大部分时间里她喜欢这种生活,或者表现出喜欢的样子。这当然还是有区别的—跟谁出去,同谁回来,不过要紧的是男人。一个男人,这就是她梦寐以求的。一个两腿问有件东西的男人,那个东西要能使她欢悦,使她狂喜得身子乱扭一气,同时还要体验到两人已合为一体,体验到人生的乐趣,只有在那儿她才能体验到人生,即在她用双手捂住的部位。Germaine was different. There was nothing to tell me so from her appearance. Nothing to distinguish her from the other trollops who met each afternoon and evening at the Café de l'Eléphant. As I say, it was a spring day and the few francs my wife had scraped up to cable me were jingling in my pocket. I had a sort of vague premonition that I would not reach the Bastille without being taken in tow by one of these buzzards. Sauntering along the boulevard I had noticed her verging toward me with that curious trot-about air of a whore and the run down heels and cheap jewelry and the pasty look of their kind which the rouge only accentuates. It was not difficult to come to terms with her. We sat in the back of the little tabac called L'Eléphant and talked it over quickly. In a few minutes we were in a five franc room on the Rue Amelot, the curtains drawn and the covers thrown back. She didn't rush things, Germaine. She sat on the bidet soaping herself and talked to me pleasantly about this and that; she liked the knickerbockers I was wearing. Très chic! she thought. They were once, but I had worn the seat out of them; fortunately the jacket covered my ass. As she stood up to dry herself, still talking to me pleasantly, suddenly she dropped the towel and, advancing toward me leisurely, she commenced rubbing her pussy affectionately, stroking it with her two hands, caressing it, patting it, patting it. There was something about her eloquence at that moment and the way she thrust that rosebush under my nose which remains unforgettable; she spoke of it as if it were some extraneous object which she had acquired at great cost, an object whose value had increased with time and which now she prized above everything in the world. Her words imbued it with a peculiar fragrance; it was no longer just her private organ, but a treasure, a magic, potent treasure, a God given thing - and none the less so because she traded it day in and day out for a few pieces of silver.Part 3 Chapter 2.

  在靠近竞技广场不远的北城区,我停了几分钟欣赏这片地方的脏乱景色。同人们在低低的、同巴黎的旧交通要道平行的走道里看到的许多广场一样,这个广场是长方形的。广场中央有一些又破又旧的建筑,衰败不堪,一座倒在另一座顶上,形成了像一团肠子一样的一堆东西。地面不平,铺地的石板上尽是脏东西,很滑,真像一堆混杂着炉渣和垃圾的人屎尿。太阳很快要落下去了,天空中的色彩也消失了,紫色变成干血色,青贝色变成褐色,黯淡的灰色变成鸽粪色。到处都有一个歪七扭八的怪物站在窗子上,像猫头鹰一样挤眼睛,脸色苍白、骨瘦如柴的孩子们发出刺耳的尖叫声,患佝偻病的小顽童头上往往有医生用钳子夹过的印痕。墙里渗出一股恶臭味,那是发霉的床垫味。欧洲,中世纪的、怪诞的、恐怖的欧洲—B-mol调的交响曲。街正对面的竞技影院给它的尊贵的顾客们提供了这个大都市的各种景观。When some time later I came to write about Claude, it was not Claude that I was thinking of but Germaine… "All the men she's been with and now you, just you, and barges going by, masts and hulls, the whole damned current of life flowing through you, through her, through all the guys behind you and after you, the flowers and the birds and the sun streaming in and the fragrance of it choking you, annihilating you." That was for Germaine! Claude was not the same, though I admired her tremendously - I even thought for a while that I loved her. Claude had a soul and a conscience; she had refinement, too, which is bIt was a Sunday afternoon, much like this, when I first met Germaine. I was strolling along the Boulevard Beaumarchais, rich by a hundred francs or so which my wife had frantically cabled from America. There was a touch of spring in the sir, a poisonous, malefic spring that seemed to burst from the manholes. Night after night I had been coming back to this quarter, attracted by certain leprous streets which only revealed their sinister splendor when the light of day had oozed away and the whores commenced to take up their posts. The Rue du Pasteur Wagner is one I recall in particular, corner of the Rue Amelot which hides behind the boulevard like a slumbering lizard. Here, at the neck of the bottle, so to speak, there was always a cluster of vultures who croaked and flapped their dirty wings, who reached out with sharp talons and plucked you into a doorway. Jolly, rapacious devils who didn't even give you time to button your pants when it was over. Led you into a little room off the street, a room without a window usually, and, sitting on the edge of the bed with skirts tucked up gave you a quick inspection, spat on your cock, and placed it for you. While you washed yourself another one stood at the door and, holding her victim by the hand, watched nonchalantly as you gave the finishing touches to your toilet.When some time later I came to write about Claude, it was not Claude that I was thinking of but Germaine… "All the men she's been with and now you, just you, and barges going by, masts and hulls, the whole damned current of life flowing through you, through her, through all the guys behind you and after you, the flowers and the birds and the sun streaming in and the fragrance of it choking you, annihilating you." That was for Germaine! Claude was not the same, though I admired her tremendously - I even thought for a while that I loved her. Claude had a soul and a conscience; she had refinement, too, which is b  她倒在床上,大叉着双腿,用两只手捂着它又抚弄了一阵,同时还一直用粗哑的声音咕哝着,说它好、漂亮,是一件宝贝、一件小宝贝。不过她那个小玩艺儿也的确不错!那个星期日下午空气中弥漫着春天的有毒气味,一切都很圆满。走出旅馆时我在外面刺眼的光线下重新细细打量了她一番,清清楚楚地看清了她是怎样的一个婊子—金牙、帽子上插的天竺葵、踩塌下去的鞋跟,等等,等等。更有甚者,她从我这儿骗到了一顿饭吃、抽了我的烟、坐了我的出租车,可是这一切一点也没有使我气恼。老实讲,是我鼓励她这样干的。我十分喜欢她,于是吃完饭后我俩回到旅馆又睡了一次,这一回是”为了爱情”。她的大而多毛的玩艺儿又一次发挥了它的活力和魔力,对于我它也开始具有独立的生命了。这儿是杰曼,那儿是她毛茸茸的玩艺,我既爱杰曼同它一分为二,也爱她俩合二为一。How a man can wander about all day on an empty belly, and even get an erection once in a while, is one of those mysteries which are too easily explained by the "anatomists of the soul." On a Sunday afternoon, when the shutters are down and the proletariat possesses the street in a kind of dumb torpor, there are certain thoroughfares which remind one of nothing less than a big chancrous cock laid open longitudinally. And it is just these highways, the Rue St. Denis, for instance, or the Faubourg du Temple - which attract one irresistibly, much as in the old days, around Union Square or the upper reaches of the Bowery, one was drawn to the dime museums where in the show windows there were displayed wax reproductions of various organs of the body eaten away by syphilis and other venereal diseases. The city sprouts out like a huge organism diseased in every part, the beautiful thoroughfares only a little less repulsive because they have been drained of their pus.  后来当我提笔写克劳德时,我心里想的不是克劳德而是杰曼……”同她厮混过的全体男人和你,现在只有你了。船驶过去,桅杆和船身都过去了,人生的全部见鬼的激流从你身上流过,从她身上流过,从紧跟着你的所有家伙身上流过。鲜花、小鸟和阳光都涌进来,它们的芬芳香气将呛死你、毁灭你。”这是为杰曼写的。克劳德则是另一码事,尽管我也十分崇拜她,有一阵子我还自以为爱她呢。克劳德有灵魂,有良心,行为也高尚,最后这一点在一个婊子身上倒不是什么优点。克劳德总叫人认为她有几分悲哀,她显然是无意中给人留下这种印象的—你不过只是命运选派来毁灭她的那股水流中的一部分。我说了,她是无意的,因为她是全世界最不可能有意识地在别人心目中造成这样一种印象的女人。她腼腆、敏感,所以不会那么做。克劳德在本质上完全是一位具有中等教养与智力的很不错的法国姑娘。生活捉弄了她,她身上有种气质,这种气质不够强健,无法应付日常生活的刺激。路易?菲利普的那一番可怕的话正是说她的,”当某一夜来临时一切都完了,许多血盆大口朝我们逼来,我们再也无力直立。我们的肌肉从身上耷拉下来,仿佛已被每张嘴嚼烂了。”从另一方面看,杰曼是个天生的婊子,她对自己扮演的角色十二万分满意,实际上还很喜欢这活儿呢。没有什么是会使她感到不快的,除了有时肚子饿、鞋①路易。菲利普(1874一1909),法国作家。--译者子破这类不足挂齿的区区小事之外,无聊!这便是她的最大不快了。毫无疑问,她也曾有过嫖客过多的日子,但也是仅此而已。大部分时间里她喜欢这种生活,或者表现出喜欢的样子。这当然还是有区别的—跟谁出去,同谁回来,不过要紧的是男人。一个男人,这就是她梦寐以求的。一个两腿问有件东西的男人,那个东西要能使她欢悦,使她狂喜得身子乱扭一气,同时还要体验到两人已合为一体,体验到人生的乐趣,只有在那儿她才能体验到人生,即在她用双手捂住的部位。. read more

When some time later I came to write about Claude, it was not Claude that I was thinking of but Germaine… "All the men she's been with and now you, just you, and barges going by, masts and hulls, the whole damned current of life flowing through you, through her, through all the guys behind you and after you, the flowers and the birds and the sun streaming in and the fragrance of it choking you, annihilating you." That was for Germaine! Claude was not the same, though I admired her tremendously - I even thought for a while that I loved her. Claude had a soul and a conscience; she had refinement, too, which is b我头一回遇见杰曼也是在一个星期日的下午,同今天差不多。那天我正沿着博马舍林荫道散步,身上装着我妻子从美国赶忙寄来的一百多法郎,很阔气。天气已有点春天的意思了,一个有毒有害的春天似乎就要从街上的下水道出入孔溢出。我每天夜里都回到这儿来,因为这儿有几条患麻风病的街道吸引着我,它们要待白天的光亮渐渐消失、妓女们各就各位后才暴露出其邪恶的光辉。尤其令我印象深刻的是巴斯德一瓦格纳街,它就位于藏在林荫大道后面、像一条熟睡的蜥蜴似的阿梅洛特街角上。在这个瓶子颈里总聚集着一串秃鹰,她们哇哇叫着扇动肮脏的翅膀,她们伸出锋利的爪子把你抓进一个门里。她们全是一伙快活而又贪婪的魔鬼,完事之后连系裤子的时间都不给你。她们领你来到背街的一个小房间里,通常是没有窗子的房间,然后她们撩起裙子坐在床边上,很快查看你一番,朝你那玩艺上吐口唾沫便替你把它塞进去了。你还在洗身子时,另一个婊子便扯着她的猎物站在门口等着呢,她冷淡地望着你最后草草洗几下了事。It was a Sunday afternoon, much like this, when I first met Germaine. I was strolling along the Boulevard Beaumarchais, rich by a hundred francs or so which my wife had frantically cabled from America. There was a touch of spring in the sir, a poisonous, malefic spring that seemed to burst from the manholes. Night after night I had been coming back to this quarter, attracted by certain leprous streets which only revealed their sinister splendor when the light of day had oozed away and the whores commenced to take up their posts. The Rue du Pasteur Wagner is one I recall in particular, corner of the Rue Amelot which hides behind the boulevard like a slumbering lizard. Here, at the neck of the bottle, so to speak, there was always a cluster of vultures who croaked and flapped their dirty wings, who reached out with sharp talons and plucked you into a doorway. Jolly, rapacious devils who didn't even give you time to button your pants when it was over. Led you into a little room off the street, a room without a window usually, and, sitting on the edge of the bed with skirts tucked up gave you a quick inspection, spat on your cock, and placed it for you. While you washed yourself another one stood at the door and, holding her victim by the hand, watched nonchalantly as you gave the finishing touches to your toilet..

  她倒在床上,大叉着双腿,用两只手捂着它又抚弄了一阵,同时还一直用粗哑的声音咕哝着,说它好、漂亮,是一件宝贝、一件小宝贝。不过她那个小玩艺儿也的确不错!那个星期日下午空气中弥漫着春天的有毒气味,一切都很圆满。走出旅馆时我在外面刺眼的光线下重新细细打量了她一番,清清楚楚地看清了她是怎样的一个婊子—金牙、帽子上插的天竺葵、踩塌下去的鞋跟,等等,等等。更有甚者,她从我这儿骗到了一顿饭吃、抽了我的烟、坐了我的出租车,可是这一切一点也没有使我气恼。老实讲,是我鼓励她这样干的。我十分喜欢她,于是吃完饭后我俩回到旅馆又睡了一次,这一回是”为了爱情”。她的大而多毛的玩艺儿又一次发挥了它的活力和魔力,对于我它也开始具有独立的生命了。这儿是杰曼,那儿是她毛茸茸的玩艺,我既爱杰曼同它一分为二,也爱她俩合二为一。When some time later I came to write about Claude, it was not Claude that I was thinking of but Germaine… "All the men she's been with and now you, just you, and barges going by, masts and hulls, the whole damned current of life flowing through you, through her, through all the guys behind you and after you, the flowers and the birds and the sun streaming in and the fragrance of it choking you, annihilating you." That was for Germaine! Claude was not the same, though I admired her tremendously - I even thought for a while that I loved her. Claude had a soul and a conscience; she had refinement, too, which is bIt was a Sunday afternoon, much like this, when I first met Germaine. I was strolling along the Boulevard Beaumarchais, rich by a hundred francs or so which my wife had frantically cabled from America. There was a touch of spring in the sir, a poisonous, malefic spring that seemed to burst from the manholes. Night after night I had been coming back to this quarter, attracted by certain leprous streets which only revealed their sinister splendor when the light of day had oozed away and the whores commenced to take up their posts. The Rue du Pasteur Wagner is one I recall in particular, corner of the Rue Amelot which hides behind the boulevard like a slumbering lizard. Here, at the neck of the bottle, so to speak, there was always a cluster of vultures who croaked and flapped their dirty wings, who reached out with sharp talons and plucked you into a doorway. Jolly, rapacious devils who didn't even give you time to button your pants when it was over. Led you into a little room off the street, a room without a window usually, and, sitting on the edge of the bed with skirts tucked up gave you a quick inspection, spat on your cock, and placed it for you. While you washed yourself another one stood at the door and, holding her victim by the hand, watched nonchalantly as you gave the finishing touches to your toilet.  她倒在床上,大叉着双腿,用两只手捂着它又抚弄了一阵,同时还一直用粗哑的声音咕哝着,说它好、漂亮,是一件宝贝、一件小宝贝。不过她那个小玩艺儿也的确不错!那个星期日下午空气中弥漫着春天的有毒气味,一切都很圆满。走出旅馆时我在外面刺眼的光线下重新细细打量了她一番,清清楚楚地看清了她是怎样的一个婊子—金牙、帽子上插的天竺葵、踩塌下去的鞋跟,等等,等等。更有甚者,她从我这儿骗到了一顿饭吃、抽了我的烟、坐了我的出租车,可是这一切一点也没有使我气恼。老实讲,是我鼓励她这样干的。我十分喜欢她,于是吃完饭后我俩回到旅馆又睡了一次,这一回是”为了爱情”。她的大而多毛的玩艺儿又一次发挥了它的活力和魔力,对于我它也开始具有独立的生命了。这儿是杰曼,那儿是她毛茸茸的玩艺,我既爱杰曼同它一分为二,也爱她俩合二为一。.

  她倒在床上,大叉着双腿,用两只手捂着它又抚弄了一阵,同时还一直用粗哑的声音咕哝着,说它好、漂亮,是一件宝贝、一件小宝贝。不过她那个小玩艺儿也的确不错!那个星期日下午空气中弥漫着春天的有毒气味,一切都很圆满。走出旅馆时我在外面刺眼的光线下重新细细打量了她一番,清清楚楚地看清了她是怎样的一个婊子—金牙、帽子上插的天竺葵、踩塌下去的鞋跟,等等,等等。更有甚者,她从我这儿骗到了一顿饭吃、抽了我的烟、坐了我的出租车,可是这一切一点也没有使我气恼。老实讲,是我鼓励她这样干的。我十分喜欢她,于是吃完饭后我俩回到旅馆又睡了一次,这一回是”为了爱情”。她的大而多毛的玩艺儿又一次发挥了它的活力和魔力,对于我它也开始具有独立的生命了。这儿是杰曼,那儿是她毛茸茸的玩艺,我既爱杰曼同它一分为二,也爱她俩合二为一。Part 3 Chapter 2sters, sweetbreads. Some day, when I'm standing at the corner of 42nd Street and Broadway, I'm going to remember this title and I'm going to put down everything that goes on in my noodle - caviar, rain drops, axle grease, vermicelli, liverwurst - slices and slices of it. And I'll tell no one why, after I had put everything down, I suddenly went home and chopped the baby to pieces. Un acte gratuit pour vous, cher monsieur si bien coupé en tranches!.

When some time later I came to write about Claude, it was not Claude that I was thinking of but Germaine… "All the men she's been with and now you, just you, and barges going by, masts and hulls, the whole damned current of life flowing through you, through her, through all the guys behind you and after you, the flowers and the birds and the sun streaming in and the fragrance of it choking you, annihilating you." That was for Germaine! Claude was not the same, though I admired her tremendously - I even thought for a while that I loved her. Claude had a soul and a conscience; she had refinement, too, which is bPart 3 Chapter 2How a man can wander about all day on an empty belly, and even get an erection once in a while, is one of those mysteries which are too easily explained by the "anatomists of the soul." On a Sunday afternoon, when the shutters are down and the proletariat possesses the street in a kind of dumb torpor, there are certain thoroughfares which remind one of nothing less than a big chancrous cock laid open longitudinally. And it is just these highways, the Rue St. Denis, for instance, or the Faubourg du Temple - which attract one irresistibly, much as in the old days, around Union Square or the upper reaches of the Bowery, one was drawn to the dime museums where in the show windows there were displayed wax reproductions of various organs of the body eaten away by syphilis and other venereal diseases. The city sprouts out like a huge organism diseased in every part, the beautiful thoroughfares only a little less repulsive because they have been drained of their pus.  在靠近竞技广场不远的北城区,我停了几分钟欣赏这片地方的脏乱景色。同人们在低低的、同巴黎的旧交通要道平行的走道里看到的许多广场一样,这个广场是长方形的。广场中央有一些又破又旧的建筑,衰败不堪,一座倒在另一座顶上,形成了像一团肠子一样的一堆东西。地面不平,铺地的石板上尽是脏东西,很滑,真像一堆混杂着炉渣和垃圾的人屎尿。太阳很快要落下去了,天空中的色彩也消失了,紫色变成干血色,青贝色变成褐色,黯淡的灰色变成鸽粪色。到处都有一个歪七扭八的怪物站在窗子上,像猫头鹰一样挤眼睛,脸色苍白、骨瘦如柴的孩子们发出刺耳的尖叫声,患佝偻病的小顽童头上往往有医生用钳子夹过的印痕。墙里渗出一股恶臭味,那是发霉的床垫味。欧洲,中世纪的、怪诞的、恐怖的欧洲—B-mol调的交响曲。街正对面的竞技影院给它的尊贵的顾客们提供了这个大都市的各种景观。.

可杰曼却与众不同,这从她的外貌上可看不出来,没有什么特征可以把她跟另外那伙每天下午和傍晚在大象咖啡厅碰头的妓女区别开。我刚才说过,这是春季的一天,我妻子积攒起来汇给我的那几个法郎在口袋里叮当乱响。我有一种模模糊糊的预感:到达巴士底广场之前我准会被一只秃鹰拖了去。沿着林荫大道漫步时,我早就注意到杰曼在朝我这边蹭,一副到处游荡看热闹的婊子派头。她的鞋跟塌下来,她戴着便宜的手饰,脸色发青,涂上胭脂反倒更显出妓女特有的青白色皮肤,同她谈妥条件并不难,我们坐在那家也叫作”大象”的小香烟店里很快便谈好了。几分钟后我们便在阿梅洛街上花五法郎租了一个房间。窗帘放下,床罩也掀到一边去了,她并不急于尽快了事,这位杰曼。她坐在坐浴盆上擦肥皂,一面愉快地跟我东拉西扯,说她喜欢我穿的灯笼短裤。她认为它”棒极了”!从前是的,不过我已经穿破了屁股坐的地方,幸亏靠外衣遮住屁股。她仍跟我愉快地说着话,起来擦干了身子,突兀地扔下毛巾朝我随随便便走过来。她开始热切地抚弄自己的下体,用两只手摸它、爱抚它、拍它。当时她滔滔不绝说话的劲头儿和把下体插到我鼻子底下这个动作至今仍使我难以忘怀。她谈到它时那种口气仿佛叫你觉得那玩艺凡是她花了大价钱买来的,身体以外的某件东西,这件东西的价值随着时间的推移在增加,现在她在这个世界上最宝贵的东西便莫过于它了。她的话赋予它一种奇妙的芬芳气味,它已不再只是她的下体,还是一件宝贝、一件魔物、一件极有魔力的宝贝、一件上帝赋予的礼物,而且并不因为她每天都用它换几个钱而丧失一点点魔力。Part 3 Chapter 2sters, sweetbreads. Some day, when I'm standing at the corner of 42nd Street and Broadway, I'm going to remember this title and I'm going to put down everything that goes on in my noodle - caviar, rain drops, axle grease, vermicelli, liverwurst - slices and slices of it. And I'll tell no one why, after I had put everything down, I suddenly went home and chopped the baby to pieces. Un acte gratuit pour vous, cher monsieur si bien coupé en tranches!Part 3 Chapter 2At the City Nortier, somewhere near the Place du Combat, I pause a few minutes to drink in the full squalor of the scene. It is a rectangular court like many another which one glimpses through the low passageways that flank the old arteries of Paris. In the middle of the court is a clump of decrepit buildings which have so rotted away that they have collapsed on one another and formed a sort of intestinal embrace. The ground is uneven, the flagging slippery with slime. A sort of human dump heap which has been filled in with cinders and dry garbage. The sun is setting fast. The colors die. They shift from purple to dried blood, from nacre to bister, from cool dead grays to pigeon shit. Here and there a lopsided monster stands in the window blinking like an owl. There is the shrill squawk of children with pale faces and bony limbs, rickety little urchins marked with the forceps. A fetid odor seeps from the walls, the odor of a mildewed mattress. Europe - medieval, grotesque, monstrous: a symphony in B mol. Directly across the street the Ciné Combat offers its distinguished clientele Metropolis.. read more

我头一回遇见杰曼也是在一个星期日的下午,同今天差不多。那天我正沿着博马舍林荫道散步,身上装着我妻子从美国赶忙寄来的一百多法郎,很阔气。天气已有点春天的意思了,一个有毒有害的春天似乎就要从街上的下水道出入孔溢出。我每天夜里都回到这儿来,因为这儿有几条患麻风病的街道吸引着我,它们要待白天的光亮渐渐消失、妓女们各就各位后才暴露出其邪恶的光辉。尤其令我印象深刻的是巴斯德一瓦格纳街,它就位于藏在林荫大道后面、像一条熟睡的蜥蜴似的阿梅洛特街角上。在这个瓶子颈里总聚集着一串秃鹰,她们哇哇叫着扇动肮脏的翅膀,她们伸出锋利的爪子把你抓进一个门里。她们全是一伙快活而又贪婪的魔鬼,完事之后连系裤子的时间都不给你。她们领你来到背街的一个小房间里,通常是没有窗子的房间,然后她们撩起裙子坐在床边上,很快查看你一番,朝你那玩艺上吐口唾沫便替你把它塞进去了。你还在洗身子时,另一个婊子便扯着她的猎物站在门口等着呢,她冷淡地望着你最后草草洗几下了事。How a man can wander about all day on an empty belly, and even get an erection once in a while, is one of those mysteries which are too easily explained by the "anatomists of the soul." On a Sunday afternoon, when the shutters are down and the proletariat possesses the street in a kind of dumb torpor, there are certain thoroughfares which remind one of nothing less than a big chancrous cock laid open longitudinally. And it is just these highways, the Rue St. Denis, for instance, or the Faubourg du Temple - which attract one irresistibly, much as in the old days, around Union Square or the upper reaches of the Bowery, one was drawn to the dime museums where in the show windows there were displayed wax reproductions of various organs of the body eaten away by syphilis and other venereal diseases. The city sprouts out like a huge organism diseased in every part, the beautiful thoroughfares only a little less repulsive because they have been drained of their pus.可杰曼却与众不同,这从她的外貌上可看不出来,没有什么特征可以把她跟另外那伙每天下午和傍晚在大象咖啡厅碰头的妓女区别开。我刚才说过,这是春季的一天,我妻子积攒起来汇给我的那几个法郎在口袋里叮当乱响。我有一种模模糊糊的预感:到达巴士底广场之前我准会被一只秃鹰拖了去。沿着林荫大道漫步时,我早就注意到杰曼在朝我这边蹭,一副到处游荡看热闹的婊子派头。她的鞋跟塌下来,她戴着便宜的手饰,脸色发青,涂上胭脂反倒更显出妓女特有的青白色皮肤,同她谈妥条件并不难,我们坐在那家也叫作”大象”的小香烟店里很快便谈好了。几分钟后我们便在阿梅洛街上花五法郎租了一个房间。窗帘放下,床罩也掀到一边去了,她并不急于尽快了事,这位杰曼。她坐在坐浴盆上擦肥皂,一面愉快地跟我东拉西扯,说她喜欢我穿的灯笼短裤。她认为它”棒极了”!从前是的,不过我已经穿破了屁股坐的地方,幸亏靠外衣遮住屁股。她仍跟我愉快地说着话,起来擦干了身子,突兀地扔下毛巾朝我随随便便走过来。她开始热切地抚弄自己的下体,用两只手摸它、爱抚它、拍它。当时她滔滔不绝说话的劲头儿和把下体插到我鼻子底下这个动作至今仍使我难以忘怀。她谈到它时那种口气仿佛叫你觉得那玩艺凡是她花了大价钱买来的,身体以外的某件东西,这件东西的价值随着时间的推移在增加,现在她在这个世界上最宝贵的东西便莫过于它了。她的话赋予它一种奇妙的芬芳气味,它已不再只是她的下体,还是一件宝贝、一件魔物、一件极有魔力的宝贝、一件上帝赋予的礼物,而且并不因为她每天都用它换几个钱而丧失一点点魔力。.

我头一回遇见杰曼也是在一个星期日的下午,同今天差不多。那天我正沿着博马舍林荫道散步,身上装着我妻子从美国赶忙寄来的一百多法郎,很阔气。天气已有点春天的意思了,一个有毒有害的春天似乎就要从街上的下水道出入孔溢出。我每天夜里都回到这儿来,因为这儿有几条患麻风病的街道吸引着我,它们要待白天的光亮渐渐消失、妓女们各就各位后才暴露出其邪恶的光辉。尤其令我印象深刻的是巴斯德一瓦格纳街,它就位于藏在林荫大道后面、像一条熟睡的蜥蜴似的阿梅洛特街角上。在这个瓶子颈里总聚集着一串秃鹰,她们哇哇叫着扇动肮脏的翅膀,她们伸出锋利的爪子把你抓进一个门里。她们全是一伙快活而又贪婪的魔鬼,完事之后连系裤子的时间都不给你。她们领你来到背街的一个小房间里,通常是没有窗子的房间,然后她们撩起裙子坐在床边上,很快查看你一番,朝你那玩艺上吐口唾沫便替你把它塞进去了。你还在洗身子时,另一个婊子便扯着她的猎物站在门口等着呢,她冷淡地望着你最后草草洗几下了事。When some time later I came to write about Claude, it was not Claude that I was thinking of but Germaine… "All the men she's been with and now you, just you, and barges going by, masts and hulls, the whole damned current of life flowing through you, through her, through all the guys behind you and after you, the flowers and the birds and the sun streaming in and the fragrance of it choking you, annihilating you." That was for Germaine! Claude was not the same, though I admired her tremendously - I even thought for a while that I loved her. Claude had a soul and a conscience; she had refinement, too, which is bWhen some time later I came to write about Claude, it was not Claude that I was thinking of but Germaine… "All the men she's been with and now you, just you, and barges going by, masts and hulls, the whole damned current of life flowing through you, through her, through all the guys behind you and after you, the flowers and the birds and the sun streaming in and the fragrance of it choking you, annihilating you." That was for Germaine! Claude was not the same, though I admired her tremendously - I even thought for a while that I loved her. Claude had a soul and a conscience; she had refinement, too, which is bComing away my mind reverts to a book that I was reading only the other day. "The town was a shambles; corpses, mangled by butchers and stripped by plunderers, lay thick in the streets; wolves sneaked from the suburbs to eat them; the black death and other plagues crept in to keep them company, and the English came marching on; the while the danse macabre whirled about the tombs in all the cemeteries…" Paris during the days of Charles the Silly! A lovely book! Refreshing, appetizing. I'm still enchanted by it. About the patrons and prodromes of the Renaissance I know little, but Madam Pimpernel, la belle boulangère, and Ma?tre Jehan Crapotte, l'orfèvre, these occupy my spare thoughts still. Not forgetting Rodin, the evil genius of The Wandering Jew, who practised his nefarious ways "until the day when he was enflamed and outwitted by the octoroon Cecily." Sitting in the Square du Temple, musing over the doings of the horse knackers led by Jean Caboche, I have thought long and ruefully over the sad fate of Charles the Silly. A half wit, who prowled about the halls of his H?tel St. Paul, garbed in the filthiest rags, eaten away by ulcers and vermin, gnawing a bone, when they flung him one, like a mangy dog. At the Rue des Lions I looked for the stones of the old menagerie where he once fed his pets. His only diversion, poor dolt, aside from those card games with his "low born companion," Odette de Champdivers..

我头一回遇见杰曼也是在一个星期日的下午,同今天差不多。那天我正沿着博马舍林荫道散步,身上装着我妻子从美国赶忙寄来的一百多法郎,很阔气。天气已有点春天的意思了,一个有毒有害的春天似乎就要从街上的下水道出入孔溢出。我每天夜里都回到这儿来,因为这儿有几条患麻风病的街道吸引着我,它们要待白天的光亮渐渐消失、妓女们各就各位后才暴露出其邪恶的光辉。尤其令我印象深刻的是巴斯德一瓦格纳街,它就位于藏在林荫大道后面、像一条熟睡的蜥蜴似的阿梅洛特街角上。在这个瓶子颈里总聚集着一串秃鹰,她们哇哇叫着扇动肮脏的翅膀,她们伸出锋利的爪子把你抓进一个门里。她们全是一伙快活而又贪婪的魔鬼,完事之后连系裤子的时间都不给你。她们领你来到背街的一个小房间里,通常是没有窗子的房间,然后她们撩起裙子坐在床边上,很快查看你一番,朝你那玩艺上吐口唾沫便替你把它塞进去了。你还在洗身子时,另一个婊子便扯着她的猎物站在门口等着呢,她冷淡地望着你最后草草洗几下了事。  我刚才说过,杰曼是与众不同的。后来她发现了我的实际境况,便宽宏大度地待我—花很多钱请我喝酒、让我赊帐、帮我典当东西、把我介绍给她的朋友以及提供其它诸如此类的帮助。她还为没能借给我钱道歉,这我完全能理解,因为后来她把她的鸨母指给我看了。我每天夜里沿着博马舍林荫道来到那家小香烟店,妓女们都聚集在这儿。我等着她回来把她的宝贵时间匀给我几分钟。  在靠近竞技广场不远的北城区,我停了几分钟欣赏这片地方的脏乱景色。同人们在低低的、同巴黎的旧交通要道平行的走道里看到的许多广场一样,这个广场是长方形的。广场中央有一些又破又旧的建筑,衰败不堪,一座倒在另一座顶上,形成了像一团肠子一样的一堆东西。地面不平,铺地的石板上尽是脏东西,很滑,真像一堆混杂着炉渣和垃圾的人屎尿。太阳很快要落下去了,天空中的色彩也消失了,紫色变成干血色,青贝色变成褐色,黯淡的灰色变成鸽粪色。到处都有一个歪七扭八的怪物站在窗子上,像猫头鹰一样挤眼睛,脸色苍白、骨瘦如柴的孩子们发出刺耳的尖叫声,患佝偻病的小顽童头上往往有医生用钳子夹过的印痕。墙里渗出一股恶臭味,那是发霉的床垫味。欧洲,中世纪的、怪诞的、恐怖的欧洲—B-mol调的交响曲。街正对面的竞技影院给它的尊贵的顾客们提供了这个大都市的各种景观。When some time later I came to write about Claude, it was not Claude that I was thinking of but Germaine… "All the men she's been with and now you, just you, and barges going by, masts and hulls, the whole damned current of life flowing through you, through her, through all the guys behind you and after you, the flowers and the birds and the sun streaming in and the fragrance of it choking you, annihilating you." That was for Germaine! Claude was not the same, though I admired her tremendously - I even thought for a while that I loved her. Claude had a soul and a conscience; she had refinement, too, which is b  在靠近竞技广场不远的北城区,我停了几分钟欣赏这片地方的脏乱景色。同人们在低低的、同巴黎的旧交通要道平行的走道里看到的许多广场一样,这个广场是长方形的。广场中央有一些又破又旧的建筑,衰败不堪,一座倒在另一座顶上,形成了像一团肠子一样的一堆东西。地面不平,铺地的石板上尽是脏东西,很滑,真像一堆混杂着炉渣和垃圾的人屎尿。太阳很快要落下去了,天空中的色彩也消失了,紫色变成干血色,青贝色变成褐色,黯淡的灰色变成鸽粪色。到处都有一个歪七扭八的怪物站在窗子上,像猫头鹰一样挤眼睛,脸色苍白、骨瘦如柴的孩子们发出刺耳的尖叫声,患佝偻病的小顽童头上往往有医生用钳子夹过的印痕。墙里渗出一股恶臭味,那是发霉的床垫味。欧洲,中世纪的、怪诞的、恐怖的欧洲—B-mol调的交响曲。街正对面的竞技影院给它的尊贵的顾客们提供了这个大都市的各种景观。  她倒在床上,大叉着双腿,用两只手捂着它又抚弄了一阵,同时还一直用粗哑的声音咕哝着,说它好、漂亮,是一件宝贝、一件小宝贝。不过她那个小玩艺儿也的确不错!那个星期日下午空气中弥漫着春天的有毒气味,一切都很圆满。走出旅馆时我在外面刺眼的光线下重新细细打量了她一番,清清楚楚地看清了她是怎样的一个婊子—金牙、帽子上插的天竺葵、踩塌下去的鞋跟,等等,等等。更有甚者,她从我这儿骗到了一顿饭吃、抽了我的烟、坐了我的出租车,可是这一切一点也没有使我气恼。老实讲,是我鼓励她这样干的。我十分喜欢她,于是吃完饭后我俩回到旅馆又睡了一次,这一回是”为了爱情”。她的大而多毛的玩艺儿又一次发挥了它的活力和魔力,对于我它也开始具有独立的生命了。这儿是杰曼,那儿是她毛茸茸的玩艺,我既爱杰曼同它一分为二,也爱她俩合二为一。  一个人怎么能空着肚子四处乱逛一整天,而且还不时勃起一回?这是”灵魂剖析家”们能轻而易举解释清楚的秘密之一。 在一个星期日下午,百叶窗都放下来,无产阶级以一种麻木、呆滞的方式占领了街道。有几条大路纵向延伸出去,只会使人联想到一只下疳的大公鸡。而恰恰是这些大路有力地吸引着人们,例如圣德尼街或圣殿郊区。正如从前纽约市的联邦广场或是纽约曼哈顿的鲍里街前段,人们被引诱到简易博物馆来看橱窗内陈列的蜡制的、被梅毒和其他性病侵蚀的人体各个器官。巴黎像一个各处都患了病的巨大有机体向外延伸,这些美丽的大道相比之下不那么令人厌恶只是因为它们体内的脓已挤出去了。  后来当我提笔写克劳德时,我心里想的不是克劳德而是杰曼……”同她厮混过的全体男人和你,现在只有你了。船驶过去,桅杆和船身都过去了,人生的全部见鬼的激流从你身上流过,从她身上流过,从紧跟着你的所有家伙身上流过。鲜花、小鸟和阳光都涌进来,它们的芬芳香气将呛死你、毁灭你。”这是为杰曼写的。克劳德则是另一码事,尽管我也十分崇拜她,有一阵子我还自以为爱她呢。克劳德有灵魂,有良心,行为也高尚,最后这一点在一个婊子身上倒不是什么优点。克劳德总叫人认为她有几分悲哀,她显然是无意中给人留下这种印象的—你不过只是命运选派来毁灭她的那股水流中的一部分。我说了,她是无意的,因为她是全世界最不可能有意识地在别人心目中造成这样一种印象的女人。她腼腆、敏感,所以不会那么做。克劳德在本质上完全是一位具有中等教养与智力的很不错的法国姑娘。生活捉弄了她,她身上有种气质,这种气质不够强健,无法应付日常生活的刺激。路易?菲利普的那一番可怕的话正是说她的,”当某一夜来临时一切都完了,许多血盆大口朝我们逼来,我们再也无力直立。我们的肌肉从身上耷拉下来,仿佛已被每张嘴嚼烂了。”从另一方面看,杰曼是个天生的婊子,她对自己扮演的角色十二万分满意,实际上还很喜欢这活儿呢。没有什么是会使她感到不快的,除了有时肚子饿、鞋①路易。菲利普(1874一1909),法国作家。--译者子破这类不足挂齿的区区小事之外,无聊!这便是她的最大不快了。毫无疑问,她也曾有过嫖客过多的日子,但也是仅此而已。大部分时间里她喜欢这种生活,或者表现出喜欢的样子。这当然还是有区别的—跟谁出去,同谁回来,不过要紧的是男人。一个男人,这就是她梦寐以求的。一个两腿问有件东西的男人,那个东西要能使她欢悦,使她狂喜得身子乱扭一气,同时还要体验到两人已合为一体,体验到人生的乐趣,只有在那儿她才能体验到人生,即在她用双手捂住的部位。At the City Nortier, somewhere near the Place du Combat, I pause a few minutes to drink in the full squalor of the scene. It is a rectangular court like many another which one glimpses through the low passageways that flank the old arteries of Paris. In the middle of the court is a clump of decrepit buildings which have so rotted away that they have collapsed on one another and formed a sort of intestinal embrace. The ground is uneven, the flagging slippery with slime. A sort of human dump heap which has been filled in with cinders and dry garbage. The sun is setting fast. The colors die. They shift from purple to dried blood, from nacre to bister, from cool dead grays to pigeon shit. Here and there a lopsided monster stands in the window blinking like an owl. There is the shrill squawk of children with pale faces and bony limbs, rickety little urchins marked with the forceps. A fetid odor seeps from the walls, the odor of a mildewed mattress. Europe - medieval, grotesque, monstrous: a symphony in B mol. Directly across the street the Ciné Combat offers its distinguished clientele Metropolis..

sters, sweetbreads. Some day, when I'm standing at the corner of 42nd Street and Broadway, I'm going to remember this title and I'm going to put down everything that goes on in my noodle - caviar, rain drops, axle grease, vermicelli, liverwurst - slices and slices of it. And I'll tell no one why, after I had put everything down, I suddenly went home and chopped the baby to pieces. Un acte gratuit pour vous, cher monsieur si bien coupé en tranches!我头一回遇见杰曼也是在一个星期日的下午,同今天差不多。那天我正沿着博马舍林荫道散步,身上装着我妻子从美国赶忙寄来的一百多法郎,很阔气。天气已有点春天的意思了,一个有毒有害的春天似乎就要从街上的下水道出入孔溢出。我每天夜里都回到这儿来,因为这儿有几条患麻风病的街道吸引着我,它们要待白天的光亮渐渐消失、妓女们各就各位后才暴露出其邪恶的光辉。尤其令我印象深刻的是巴斯德一瓦格纳街,它就位于藏在林荫大道后面、像一条熟睡的蜥蜴似的阿梅洛特街角上。在这个瓶子颈里总聚集着一串秃鹰,她们哇哇叫着扇动肮脏的翅膀,她们伸出锋利的爪子把你抓进一个门里。她们全是一伙快活而又贪婪的魔鬼,完事之后连系裤子的时间都不给你。她们领你来到背街的一个小房间里,通常是没有窗子的房间,然后她们撩起裙子坐在床边上,很快查看你一番,朝你那玩艺上吐口唾沫便替你把它塞进去了。你还在洗身子时,另一个婊子便扯着她的猎物站在门口等着呢,她冷淡地望着你最后草草洗几下了事。我头一回遇见杰曼也是在一个星期日的下午,同今天差不多。那天我正沿着博马舍林荫道散步,身上装着我妻子从美国赶忙寄来的一百多法郎,很阔气。天气已有点春天的意思了,一个有毒有害的春天似乎就要从街上的下水道出入孔溢出。我每天夜里都回到这儿来,因为这儿有几条患麻风病的街道吸引着我,它们要待白天的光亮渐渐消失、妓女们各就各位后才暴露出其邪恶的光辉。尤其令我印象深刻的是巴斯德一瓦格纳街,它就位于藏在林荫大道后面、像一条熟睡的蜥蜴似的阿梅洛特街角上。在这个瓶子颈里总聚集着一串秃鹰,她们哇哇叫着扇动肮脏的翅膀,她们伸出锋利的爪子把你抓进一个门里。她们全是一伙快活而又贪婪的魔鬼,完事之后连系裤子的时间都不给你。她们领你来到背街的一个小房间里,通常是没有窗子的房间,然后她们撩起裙子坐在床边上,很快查看你一番,朝你那玩艺上吐口唾沫便替你把它塞进去了。你还在洗身子时,另一个婊子便扯着她的猎物站在门口等着呢,她冷淡地望着你最后草草洗几下了事。.

  后来当我提笔写克劳德时,我心里想的不是克劳德而是杰曼……”同她厮混过的全体男人和你,现在只有你了。船驶过去,桅杆和船身都过去了,人生的全部见鬼的激流从你身上流过,从她身上流过,从紧跟着你的所有家伙身上流过。鲜花、小鸟和阳光都涌进来,它们的芬芳香气将呛死你、毁灭你。”这是为杰曼写的。克劳德则是另一码事,尽管我也十分崇拜她,有一阵子我还自以为爱她呢。克劳德有灵魂,有良心,行为也高尚,最后这一点在一个婊子身上倒不是什么优点。克劳德总叫人认为她有几分悲哀,她显然是无意中给人留下这种印象的—你不过只是命运选派来毁灭她的那股水流中的一部分。我说了,她是无意的,因为她是全世界最不可能有意识地在别人心目中造成这样一种印象的女人。她腼腆、敏感,所以不会那么做。克劳德在本质上完全是一位具有中等教养与智力的很不错的法国姑娘。生活捉弄了她,她身上有种气质,这种气质不够强健,无法应付日常生活的刺激。路易?菲利普的那一番可怕的话正是说她的,”当某一夜来临时一切都完了,许多血盆大口朝我们逼来,我们再也无力直立。我们的肌肉从身上耷拉下来,仿佛已被每张嘴嚼烂了。”从另一方面看,杰曼是个天生的婊子,她对自己扮演的角色十二万分满意,实际上还很喜欢这活儿呢。没有什么是会使她感到不快的,除了有时肚子饿、鞋①路易。菲利普(1874一1909),法国作家。--译者子破这类不足挂齿的区区小事之外,无聊!这便是她的最大不快了。毫无疑问,她也曾有过嫖客过多的日子,但也是仅此而已。大部分时间里她喜欢这种生活,或者表现出喜欢的样子。这当然还是有区别的—跟谁出去,同谁回来,不过要紧的是男人。一个男人,这就是她梦寐以求的。一个两腿问有件东西的男人,那个东西要能使她欢悦,使她狂喜得身子乱扭一气,同时还要体验到两人已合为一体,体验到人生的乐趣,只有在那儿她才能体验到人生,即在她用双手捂住的部位。  一个人怎么能空着肚子四处乱逛一整天,而且还不时勃起一回?这是”灵魂剖析家”们能轻而易举解释清楚的秘密之一。 在一个星期日下午,百叶窗都放下来,无产阶级以一种麻木、呆滞的方式占领了街道。有几条大路纵向延伸出去,只会使人联想到一只下疳的大公鸡。而恰恰是这些大路有力地吸引着人们,例如圣德尼街或圣殿郊区。正如从前纽约市的联邦广场或是纽约曼哈顿的鲍里街前段,人们被引诱到简易博物馆来看橱窗内陈列的蜡制的、被梅毒和其他性病侵蚀的人体各个器官。巴黎像一个各处都患了病的巨大有机体向外延伸,这些美丽的大道相比之下不那么令人厌恶只是因为它们体内的脓已挤出去了。我头一回遇见杰曼也是在一个星期日的下午,同今天差不多。那天我正沿着博马舍林荫道散步,身上装着我妻子从美国赶忙寄来的一百多法郎,很阔气。天气已有点春天的意思了,一个有毒有害的春天似乎就要从街上的下水道出入孔溢出。我每天夜里都回到这儿来,因为这儿有几条患麻风病的街道吸引着我,它们要待白天的光亮渐渐消失、妓女们各就各位后才暴露出其邪恶的光辉。尤其令我印象深刻的是巴斯德一瓦格纳街,它就位于藏在林荫大道后面、像一条熟睡的蜥蜴似的阿梅洛特街角上。在这个瓶子颈里总聚集着一串秃鹰,她们哇哇叫着扇动肮脏的翅膀,她们伸出锋利的爪子把你抓进一个门里。她们全是一伙快活而又贪婪的魔鬼,完事之后连系裤子的时间都不给你。她们领你来到背街的一个小房间里,通常是没有窗子的房间,然后她们撩起裙子坐在床边上,很快查看你一番,朝你那玩艺上吐口唾沫便替你把它塞进去了。你还在洗身子时,另一个婊子便扯着她的猎物站在门口等着呢,她冷淡地望着你最后草草洗几下了事。It was a Sunday afternoon, much like this, when I first met Germaine. I was strolling along the Boulevard Beaumarchais, rich by a hundred francs or so which my wife had frantically cabled from America. There was a touch of spring in the sir, a poisonous, malefic spring that seemed to burst from the manholes. Night after night I had been coming back to this quarter, attracted by certain leprous streets which only revealed their sinister splendor when the light of day had oozed away and the whores commenced to take up their posts. The Rue du Pasteur Wagner is one I recall in particular, corner of the Rue Amelot which hides behind the boulevard like a slumbering lizard. Here, at the neck of the bottle, so to speak, there was always a cluster of vultures who croaked and flapped their dirty wings, who reached out with sharp talons and plucked you into a doorway. Jolly, rapacious devils who didn't even give you time to button your pants when it was over. Led you into a little room off the street, a room without a window usually, and, sitting on the edge of the bed with skirts tucked up gave you a quick inspection, spat on your cock, and placed it for you. While you washed yourself another one stood at the door and, holding her victim by the hand, watched nonchalantly as you gave the finishing touches to your toilet.When some time later I came to write about Claude, it was not Claude that I was thinking of but Germaine… "All the men she's been with and now you, just you, and barges going by, masts and hulls, the whole damned current of life flowing through you, through her, through all the guys behind you and after you, the flowers and the birds and the sun streaming in and the fragrance of it choking you, annihilating you." That was for Germaine! Claude was not the same, though I admired her tremendously - I even thought for a while that I loved her. Claude had a soul and a conscience; she had refinement, too, which is b我头一回遇见杰曼也是在一个星期日的下午,同今天差不多。那天我正沿着博马舍林荫道散步,身上装着我妻子从美国赶忙寄来的一百多法郎,很阔气。天气已有点春天的意思了,一个有毒有害的春天似乎就要从街上的下水道出入孔溢出。我每天夜里都回到这儿来,因为这儿有几条患麻风病的街道吸引着我,它们要待白天的光亮渐渐消失、妓女们各就各位后才暴露出其邪恶的光辉。尤其令我印象深刻的是巴斯德一瓦格纳街,它就位于藏在林荫大道后面、像一条熟睡的蜥蜴似的阿梅洛特街角上。在这个瓶子颈里总聚集着一串秃鹰,她们哇哇叫着扇动肮脏的翅膀,她们伸出锋利的爪子把你抓进一个门里。她们全是一伙快活而又贪婪的魔鬼,完事之后连系裤子的时间都不给你。她们领你来到背街的一个小房间里,通常是没有窗子的房间,然后她们撩起裙子坐在床边上,很快查看你一番,朝你那玩艺上吐口唾沫便替你把它塞进去了。你还在洗身子时,另一个婊子便扯着她的猎物站在门口等着呢,她冷淡地望着你最后草草洗几下了事。Germaine was different. There was nothing to tell me so from her appearance. Nothing to distinguish her from the other trollops who met each afternoon and evening at the Café de l'Eléphant. As I say, it was a spring day and the few francs my wife had scraped up to cable me were jingling in my pocket. I had a sort of vague premonition that I would not reach the Bastille without being taken in tow by one of these buzzards. Sauntering along the boulevard I had noticed her verging toward me with that curious trot-about air of a whore and the run down heels and cheap jewelry and the pasty look of their kind which the rouge only accentuates. It was not difficult to come to terms with her. We sat in the back of the little tabac called L'Eléphant and talked it over quickly. In a few minutes we were in a five franc room on the Rue Amelot, the curtains drawn and the covers thrown back. She didn't rush things, Germaine. She sat on the bidet soaping herself and talked to me pleasantly about this and that; she liked the knickerbockers I was wearing. Très chic! she thought. They were once, but I had worn the seat out of them; fortunately the jacket covered my ass. As she stood up to dry herself, still talking to me pleasantly, suddenly she dropped the towel and, advancing toward me leisurely, she commenced rubbing her pussy affectionately, stroking it with her two hands, caressing it, patting it, patting it. There was something about her eloquence at that moment and the way she thrust that rosebush under my nose which remains unforgettable; she spoke of it as if it were some extraneous object which she had acquired at great cost, an object whose value had increased with time and which now she prized above everything in the world. Her words imbued it with a peculiar fragrance; it was no longer just her private organ, but a treasure, a magic, potent treasure, a God given thing - and none the less so because she traded it day in and day out for a few pieces of silver.sters, sweetbreads. Some day, when I'm standing at the corner of 42nd Street and Broadway, I'm going to remember this title and I'm going to put down everything that goes on in my noodle - caviar, rain drops, axle grease, vermicelli, liverwurst - slices and slices of it. And I'll tell no one why, after I had put everything down, I suddenly went home and chopped the baby to pieces. Un acte gratuit pour vous, cher monsieur si bien coupé en tranches!

Coming away my mind reverts to a book that I was reading only the other day. "The town was a shambles; corpses, mangled by butchers and stripped by plunderers, lay thick in the streets; wolves sneaked from the suburbs to eat them; the black death and other plagues crept in to keep them company, and the English came marching on; the while the danse macabre whirled about the tombs in all the cemeteries…" Paris during the days of Charles the Silly! A lovely book! Refreshing, appetizing. I'm still enchanted by it. About the patrons and prodromes of the Renaissance I know little, but Madam Pimpernel, la belle boulangère, and Ma?tre Jehan Crapotte, l'orfèvre, these occupy my spare thoughts still. Not forgetting Rodin, the evil genius of The Wandering Jew, who practised his nefarious ways "until the day when he was enflamed and outwitted by the octoroon Cecily." Sitting in the Square du Temple, musing over the doings of the horse knackers led by Jean Caboche, I have thought long and ruefully over the sad fate of Charles the Silly. A half wit, who prowled about the halls of his H?tel St. Paul, garbed in the filthiest rags, eaten away by ulcers and vermin, gnawing a bone, when they flung him one, like a mangy dog. At the Rue des Lions I looked for the stones of the old menagerie where he once fed his pets. His only diversion, poor dolt, aside from those card games with his "low born companion," Odette de Champdivers.It was a Sunday afternoon, much like this, when I first met Germaine. I was strolling along the Boulevard Beaumarchais, rich by a hundred francs or so which my wife had frantically cabled from America. There was a touch of spring in the sir, a poisonous, malefic spring that seemed to burst from the manholes. Night after night I had been coming back to this quarter, attracted by certain leprous streets which only revealed their sinister splendor when the light of day had oozed away and the whores commenced to take up their posts. The Rue du Pasteur Wagner is one I recall in particular, corner of the Rue Amelot which hides behind the boulevard like a slumbering lizard. Here, at the neck of the bottle, so to speak, there was always a cluster of vultures who croaked and flapped their dirty wings, who reached out with sharp talons and plucked you into a doorway. Jolly, rapacious devils who didn't even give you time to button your pants when it was over. Led you into a little room off the street, a room without a window usually, and, sitting on the edge of the bed with skirts tucked up gave you a quick inspection, spat on your cock, and placed it for you. While you washed yourself another one stood at the door and, holding her victim by the hand, watched nonchalantly as you gave the finishing touches to your toilet.Part 3 Chapter 2At the City Nortier, somewhere near the Place du Combat, I pause a few minutes to drink in the full squalor of the scene. It is a rectangular court like many another which one glimpses through the low passageways that flank the old arteries of Paris. In the middle of the court is a clump of decrepit buildings which have so rotted away that they have collapsed on one another and formed a sort of intestinal embrace. The ground is uneven, the flagging slippery with slime. A sort of human dump heap which has been filled in with cinders and dry garbage. The sun is setting fast. The colors die. They shift from purple to dried blood, from nacre to bister, from cool dead grays to pigeon shit. Here and there a lopsided monster stands in the window blinking like an owl. There is the shrill squawk of children with pale faces and bony limbs, rickety little urchins marked with the forceps. A fetid odor seeps from the walls, the odor of a mildewed mattress. Europe - medieval, grotesque, monstrous: a symphony in B mol. Directly across the street the Ciné Combat offers its distinguished clientele Metropolis.  一个人怎么能空着肚子四处乱逛一整天,而且还不时勃起一回?这是”灵魂剖析家”们能轻而易举解释清楚的秘密之一。 在一个星期日下午,百叶窗都放下来,无产阶级以一种麻木、呆滞的方式占领了街道。有几条大路纵向延伸出去,只会使人联想到一只下疳的大公鸡。而恰恰是这些大路有力地吸引着人们,例如圣德尼街或圣殿郊区。正如从前纽约市的联邦广场或是纽约曼哈顿的鲍里街前段,人们被引诱到简易博物馆来看橱窗内陈列的蜡制的、被梅毒和其他性病侵蚀的人体各个器官。巴黎像一个各处都患了病的巨大有机体向外延伸,这些美丽的大道相比之下不那么令人厌恶只是因为它们体内的脓已挤出去了。

2016 9:49 am   我刚才说过,杰曼是与众不同的。后来她发现了我的实际境况,便宽宏大度地待我—花很多钱请我喝酒、让我赊帐、帮我典当东西、把我介绍给她的朋友以及提供其它诸如此类的帮助。她还为没能借给我钱道歉,这我完全能理解,因为后来她把她的鸨母指给我看了。我每天夜里沿着博马舍林荫道来到那家小香烟店,妓女们都聚集在这儿。我等着她回来把她的宝贵时间匀给我几分钟。  我刚才说过,杰曼是与众不同的。后来她发现了我的实际境况,便宽宏大度地待我—花很多钱请我喝酒、让我赊帐、帮我典当东西、把我介绍给她的朋友以及提供其它诸如此类的帮助。她还为没能借给我钱道歉,这我完全能理解,因为后来她把她的鸨母指给我看了。我每天夜里沿着博马舍林荫道来到那家小香烟店,妓女们都聚集在这儿。我等着她回来把她的宝贵时间匀给我几分钟。  我刚才说过,杰曼是与众不同的。后来她发现了我的实际境况,便宽宏大度地待我—花很多钱请我喝酒、让我赊帐、帮我典当东西、把我介绍给她的朋友以及提供其它诸如此类的帮助。她还为没能借给我钱道歉,这我完全能理解,因为后来她把她的鸨母指给我看了。我每天夜里沿着博马舍林荫道来到那家小香烟店,妓女们都聚集在这儿。我等着她回来把她的宝贵时间匀给我几分钟。  我刚才说过,杰曼是与众不同的。后来她发现了我的实际境况,便宽宏大度地待我—花很多钱请我喝酒、让我赊帐、帮我典当东西、把我介绍给她的朋友以及提供其它诸如此类的帮助。她还为没能借给我钱道歉,这我完全能理解,因为后来她把她的鸨母指给我看了。我每天夜里沿着博马舍林荫道来到那家小香烟店,妓女们都聚集在这儿。我等着她回来把她的宝贵时间匀给我几分钟。At the City Nortier, somewhere near the Place du Combat, I pause a few minutes to drink in the full squalor of the scene. It is a rectangular court like many another which one glimpses through the low passageways that flank the old arteries of Paris. In the middle of the court is a clump of decrepit buildings which have so rotted away that they have collapsed on one another and formed a sort of intestinal embrace. The ground is uneven, the flagging slippery with slime. A sort of human dump heap which has been filled in with cinders and dry garbage. The sun is setting fast. The colors die. They shift from purple to dried blood, from nacre to bister, from cool dead grays to pigeon shit. Here and there a lopsided monster stands in the window blinking like an owl. There is the shrill squawk of children with pale faces and bony limbs, rickety little urchins marked with the forceps. A fetid odor seeps from the walls, the odor of a mildewed mattress. Europe - medieval, grotesque, monstrous: a symphony in B mol. Directly across the street the Ciné Combat offers its distinguished clientele Metropolis.It was a Sunday afternoon, much like this, when I first met Germaine. I was strolling along the Boulevard Beaumarchais, rich by a hundred francs or so which my wife had frantically cabled from America. There was a touch of spring in the sir, a poisonous, malefic spring that seemed to burst from the manholes. Night after night I had been coming back to this quarter, attracted by certain leprous streets which only revealed their sinister splendor when the light of day had oozed away and the whores commenced to take up their posts. The Rue du Pasteur Wagner is one I recall in particular, corner of the Rue Amelot which hides behind the boulevard like a slumbering lizard. Here, at the neck of the bottle, so to speak, there was always a cluster of vultures who croaked and flapped their dirty wings, who reached out with sharp talons and plucked you into a doorway. Jolly, rapacious devils who didn't even give you time to button your pants when it was over. Led you into a little room off the street, a room without a window usually, and, sitting on the edge of the bed with skirts tucked up gave you a quick inspection, spat on your cock, and placed it for you. While you washed yourself another one stood at the door and, holding her victim by the hand, watched nonchalantly as you gave the finishing touches to your toilet.As she flung herself on the bed, with legs spread wide apart, she cupped it with her hands and stroked it some more, murmuring all the while in that hoarse, cracked voice of hers that it was good, beautiful, a treasure, a little treasure. And it was good, that little pussy of hers! That Sunday afternoon, with its poisonous breath of spring in the air, everything clicked again. As we stepped out of the hotel I looked her over again in the harsh light of day and I saw clearly what a whore she was - the gold teeth, the geranium in her hat, the run-down heels, etc., etc. Even the fact that she had wormed a dinner out of me and cigarettes and taxi hadn't the least disturbing effect upon me. I encouraged it, in fact. I liked her so well that after dinner we went back to the hotel again and took another shot at it. "For love," this time. And again that big, bushy thing of hers worked its bloom and magic. It began to have an independent existence - for me too. There was Germaine and there was that rose bush of hers. I liked them separately and I liked them together.  在靠近竞技广场不远的北城区,我停了几分钟欣赏这片地方的脏乱景色。同人们在低低的、同巴黎的旧交通要道平行的走道里看到的许多广场一样,这个广场是长方形的。广场中央有一些又破又旧的建筑,衰败不堪,一座倒在另一座顶上,形成了像一团肠子一样的一堆东西。地面不平,铺地的石板上尽是脏东西,很滑,真像一堆混杂着炉渣和垃圾的人屎尿。太阳很快要落下去了,天空中的色彩也消失了,紫色变成干血色,青贝色变成褐色,黯淡的灰色变成鸽粪色。到处都有一个歪七扭八的怪物站在窗子上,像猫头鹰一样挤眼睛,脸色苍白、骨瘦如柴的孩子们发出刺耳的尖叫声,患佝偻病的小顽童头上往往有医生用钳子夹过的印痕。墙里渗出一股恶臭味,那是发霉的床垫味。欧洲,中世纪的、怪诞的、恐怖的欧洲—B-mol调的交响曲。街正对面的竞技影院给它的尊贵的顾客们提供了这个大都市的各种景观。. read more

  走开时我又重新忆起那天看过的一本书。”这座城是一个屠宰场,尸体同屠夫混杂在一起,又被盗贼剥得精光,一层层躺在街上。狼从郊区悄悄溜进来吃他们,黑死病和其他瘟疫也来跟它们为伍,英国人也大踏步赶来。与此同时,死亡之舞在所有墓地的坟堆间旋转……”这书讲的是”愚蠢的查理”时代的巴黎轶事!一本可爱的书!看过后使人精神振奋、胃口大开,我至今仍为它着迷,我对文艺复兴时期的倡导人和先驱者知道的不多,不过对漂亮的面包师平博荷耐福夫人和让?卡波特大师这两人至今记忆犹新,一有空便想起他们。我也忘不了罗丹这个《流浪的犹太人》中的邪恶天才。他无法无天地胡作非为,”直到有一天被有八分之一黑人血统的塞西莉激怒并且智龋”坐在圣殿广场,冥想让? 卡博什手下屠宰老弱马匹的人的所做所为,我久久悲哀地想着”愚蠢的查理”的悲惨命运。他是一个智力不健全的人,在他的圣保罗旅馆大厅里转来转去,穿的是最脏最臭的破衣服,溃疡和害虫侵蚀着他的健康。别人丢给他一根骨头,他便像一条癫皮狗一样去啃。我在狮子街寻找从前兽栏的石头,他过去曾在这儿喂宠物,这是除了同他”出身低贱的伙伴”奥代特?德?尚帕狄丰打牌以外的唯一消遣。这可怜的傻子。Coming away my mind reverts to a book that I was reading only the other day. "The town was a shambles; corpses, mangled by butchers and stripped by plunderers, lay thick in the streets; wolves sneaked from the suburbs to eat them; the black death and other plagues crept in to keep them company, and the English came marching on; the while the danse macabre whirled about the tombs in all the cemeteries…" Paris during the days of Charles the Silly! A lovely book! Refreshing, appetizing. I'm still enchanted by it. About the patrons and prodromes of the Renaissance I know little, but Madam Pimpernel, la belle boulangère, and Ma?tre Jehan Crapotte, l'orfèvre, these occupy my spare thoughts still. Not forgetting Rodin, the evil genius of The Wandering Jew, who practised his nefarious ways "until the day when he was enflamed and outwitted by the octoroon Cecily." Sitting in the Square du Temple, musing over the doings of the horse knackers led by Jean Caboche, I have thought long and ruefully over the sad fate of Charles the Silly. A half wit, who prowled about the halls of his H?tel St. Paul, garbed in the filthiest rags, eaten away by ulcers and vermin, gnawing a bone, when they flung him one, like a mangy dog. At the Rue des Lions I looked for the stones of the old menagerie where he once fed his pets. His only diversion, poor dolt, aside from those card games with his "low born companion," Odette de Champdivers.How a man can wander about all day on an empty belly, and even get an erection once in a while, is one of those mysteries which are too easily explained by the "anatomists of the soul." On a Sunday afternoon, when the shutters are down and the proletariat possesses the street in a kind of dumb torpor, there are certain thoroughfares which remind one of nothing less than a big chancrous cock laid open longitudinally. And it is just these highways, the Rue St. Denis, for instance, or the Faubourg du Temple - which attract one irresistibly, much as in the old days, around Union Square or the upper reaches of the Bowery, one was drawn to the dime museums where in the show windows there were displayed wax reproductions of various organs of the body eaten away by syphilis and other venereal diseases. The city sprouts out like a huge organism diseased in every part, the beautiful thoroughfares only a little less repulsive because they have been drained of their pus..

As she flung herself on the bed, with legs spread wide apart, she cupped it with her hands and stroked it some more, murmuring all the while in that hoarse, cracked voice of hers that it was good, beautiful, a treasure, a little treasure. And it was good, that little pussy of hers! That Sunday afternoon, with its poisonous breath of spring in the air, everything clicked again. As we stepped out of the hotel I looked her over again in the harsh light of day and I saw clearly what a whore she was - the gold teeth, the geranium in her hat, the run-down heels, etc., etc. Even the fact that she had wormed a dinner out of me and cigarettes and taxi hadn't the least disturbing effect upon me. I encouraged it, in fact. I liked her so well that after dinner we went back to the hotel again and took another shot at it. "For love," this time. And again that big, bushy thing of hers worked its bloom and magic. It began to have an independent existence - for me too. There was Germaine and there was that rose bush of hers. I liked them separately and I liked them together.  后来当我提笔写克劳德时,我心里想的不是克劳德而是杰曼……”同她厮混过的全体男人和你,现在只有你了。船驶过去,桅杆和船身都过去了,人生的全部见鬼的激流从你身上流过,从她身上流过,从紧跟着你的所有家伙身上流过。鲜花、小鸟和阳光都涌进来,它们的芬芳香气将呛死你、毁灭你。”这是为杰曼写的。克劳德则是另一码事,尽管我也十分崇拜她,有一阵子我还自以为爱她呢。克劳德有灵魂,有良心,行为也高尚,最后这一点在一个婊子身上倒不是什么优点。克劳德总叫人认为她有几分悲哀,她显然是无意中给人留下这种印象的—你不过只是命运选派来毁灭她的那股水流中的一部分。我说了,她是无意的,因为她是全世界最不可能有意识地在别人心目中造成这样一种印象的女人。她腼腆、敏感,所以不会那么做。克劳德在本质上完全是一位具有中等教养与智力的很不错的法国姑娘。生活捉弄了她,她身上有种气质,这种气质不够强健,无法应付日常生活的刺激。路易?菲利普的那一番可怕的话正是说她的,”当某一夜来临时一切都完了,许多血盆大口朝我们逼来,我们再也无力直立。我们的肌肉从身上耷拉下来,仿佛已被每张嘴嚼烂了。”从另一方面看,杰曼是个天生的婊子,她对自己扮演的角色十二万分满意,实际上还很喜欢这活儿呢。没有什么是会使她感到不快的,除了有时肚子饿、鞋①路易。菲利普(1874一1909),法国作家。--译者子破这类不足挂齿的区区小事之外,无聊!这便是她的最大不快了。毫无疑问,她也曾有过嫖客过多的日子,但也是仅此而已。大部分时间里她喜欢这种生活,或者表现出喜欢的样子。这当然还是有区别的—跟谁出去,同谁回来,不过要紧的是男人。一个男人,这就是她梦寐以求的。一个两腿问有件东西的男人,那个东西要能使她欢悦,使她狂喜得身子乱扭一气,同时还要体验到两人已合为一体,体验到人生的乐趣,只有在那儿她才能体验到人生,即在她用双手捂住的部位。我头一回遇见杰曼也是在一个星期日的下午,同今天差不多。那天我正沿着博马舍林荫道散步,身上装着我妻子从美国赶忙寄来的一百多法郎,很阔气。天气已有点春天的意思了,一个有毒有害的春天似乎就要从街上的下水道出入孔溢出。我每天夜里都回到这儿来,因为这儿有几条患麻风病的街道吸引着我,它们要待白天的光亮渐渐消失、妓女们各就各位后才暴露出其邪恶的光辉。尤其令我印象深刻的是巴斯德一瓦格纳街,它就位于藏在林荫大道后面、像一条熟睡的蜥蜴似的阿梅洛特街角上。在这个瓶子颈里总聚集着一串秃鹰,她们哇哇叫着扇动肮脏的翅膀,她们伸出锋利的爪子把你抓进一个门里。她们全是一伙快活而又贪婪的魔鬼,完事之后连系裤子的时间都不给你。她们领你来到背街的一个小房间里,通常是没有窗子的房间,然后她们撩起裙子坐在床边上,很快查看你一番,朝你那玩艺上吐口唾沫便替你把它塞进去了。你还在洗身子时,另一个婊子便扯着她的猎物站在门口等着呢,她冷淡地望着你最后草草洗几下了事。  我刚才说过,杰曼是与众不同的。后来她发现了我的实际境况,便宽宏大度地待我—花很多钱请我喝酒、让我赊帐、帮我典当东西、把我介绍给她的朋友以及提供其它诸如此类的帮助。她还为没能借给我钱道歉,这我完全能理解,因为后来她把她的鸨母指给我看了。我每天夜里沿着博马舍林荫道来到那家小香烟店,妓女们都聚集在这儿。我等着她回来把她的宝贵时间匀给我几分钟。.

As I say, she was different, Germaine. Later, when she discovered my true circumstances, she treated me nobly - blew me to drinks, gave me credit, pawned my things, introduced me to her friends, and so on. She even apologized for not lending me money, which I understood quite well after her maquereau had been pointed out to me. Night after night I walked down the Boulevard Beaumarchais to the little tabac where they all congregated and I waited for her to stroll in and give me a few minutes of her precious time.可杰曼却与众不同,这从她的外貌上可看不出来,没有什么特征可以把她跟另外那伙每天下午和傍晚在大象咖啡厅碰头的妓女区别开。我刚才说过,这是春季的一天,我妻子积攒起来汇给我的那几个法郎在口袋里叮当乱响。我有一种模模糊糊的预感:到达巴士底广场之前我准会被一只秃鹰拖了去。沿着林荫大道漫步时,我早就注意到杰曼在朝我这边蹭,一副到处游荡看热闹的婊子派头。她的鞋跟塌下来,她戴着便宜的手饰,脸色发青,涂上胭脂反倒更显出妓女特有的青白色皮肤,同她谈妥条件并不难,我们坐在那家也叫作”大象”的小香烟店里很快便谈好了。几分钟后我们便在阿梅洛街上花五法郎租了一个房间。窗帘放下,床罩也掀到一边去了,她并不急于尽快了事,这位杰曼。她坐在坐浴盆上擦肥皂,一面愉快地跟我东拉西扯,说她喜欢我穿的灯笼短裤。她认为它”棒极了”!从前是的,不过我已经穿破了屁股坐的地方,幸亏靠外衣遮住屁股。她仍跟我愉快地说着话,起来擦干了身子,突兀地扔下毛巾朝我随随便便走过来。她开始热切地抚弄自己的下体,用两只手摸它、爱抚它、拍它。当时她滔滔不绝说话的劲头儿和把下体插到我鼻子底下这个动作至今仍使我难以忘怀。她谈到它时那种口气仿佛叫你觉得那玩艺凡是她花了大价钱买来的,身体以外的某件东西,这件东西的价值随着时间的推移在增加,现在她在这个世界上最宝贵的东西便莫过于它了。她的话赋予它一种奇妙的芬芳气味,它已不再只是她的下体,还是一件宝贝、一件魔物、一件极有魔力的宝贝、一件上帝赋予的礼物,而且并不因为她每天都用它换几个钱而丧失一点点魔力。  一个人怎么能空着肚子四处乱逛一整天,而且还不时勃起一回?这是”灵魂剖析家”们能轻而易举解释清楚的秘密之一。 在一个星期日下午,百叶窗都放下来,无产阶级以一种麻木、呆滞的方式占领了街道。有几条大路纵向延伸出去,只会使人联想到一只下疳的大公鸡。而恰恰是这些大路有力地吸引着人们,例如圣德尼街或圣殿郊区。正如从前纽约市的联邦广场或是纽约曼哈顿的鲍里街前段,人们被引诱到简易博物馆来看橱窗内陈列的蜡制的、被梅毒和其他性病侵蚀的人体各个器官。巴黎像一个各处都患了病的巨大有机体向外延伸,这些美丽的大道相比之下不那么令人厌恶只是因为它们体内的脓已挤出去了。sters, sweetbreads. Some day, when I'm standing at the corner of 42nd Street and Broadway, I'm going to remember this title and I'm going to put down everything that goes on in my noodle - caviar, rain drops, axle grease, vermicelli, liverwurst - slices and slices of it. And I'll tell no one why, after I had put everything down, I suddenly went home and chopped the baby to pieces. Un acte gratuit pour vous, cher monsieur si bien coupé en tranches!

  一个人怎么能空着肚子四处乱逛一整天,而且还不时勃起一回?这是”灵魂剖析家”们能轻而易举解释清楚的秘密之一。 在一个星期日下午,百叶窗都放下来,无产阶级以一种麻木、呆滞的方式占领了街道。有几条大路纵向延伸出去,只会使人联想到一只下疳的大公鸡。而恰恰是这些大路有力地吸引着人们,例如圣德尼街或圣殿郊区。正如从前纽约市的联邦广场或是纽约曼哈顿的鲍里街前段,人们被引诱到简易博物馆来看橱窗内陈列的蜡制的、被梅毒和其他性病侵蚀的人体各个器官。巴黎像一个各处都患了病的巨大有机体向外延伸,这些美丽的大道相比之下不那么令人厌恶只是因为它们体内的脓已挤出去了。How a man can wander about all day on an empty belly, and even get an erection once in a while, is one of those mysteries which are too easily explained by the "anatomists of the soul." On a Sunday afternoon, when the shutters are down and the proletariat possesses the street in a kind of dumb torpor, there are certain thoroughfares which remind one of nothing less than a big chancrous cock laid open longitudinally. And it is just these highways, the Rue St. Denis, for instance, or the Faubourg du Temple - which attract one irresistibly, much as in the old days, around Union Square or the upper reaches of the Bowery, one was drawn to the dime museums where in the show windows there were displayed wax reproductions of various organs of the body eaten away by syphilis and other venereal diseases. The city sprouts out like a huge organism diseased in every part, the beautiful thoroughfares only a little less repulsive because they have been drained of their pus.  一个人怎么能空着肚子四处乱逛一整天,而且还不时勃起一回?这是”灵魂剖析家”们能轻而易举解释清楚的秘密之一。 在一个星期日下午,百叶窗都放下来,无产阶级以一种麻木、呆滞的方式占领了街道。有几条大路纵向延伸出去,只会使人联想到一只下疳的大公鸡。而恰恰是这些大路有力地吸引着人们,例如圣德尼街或圣殿郊区。正如从前纽约市的联邦广场或是纽约曼哈顿的鲍里街前段,人们被引诱到简易博物馆来看橱窗内陈列的蜡制的、被梅毒和其他性病侵蚀的人体各个器官。巴黎像一个各处都患了病的巨大有机体向外延伸,这些美丽的大道相比之下不那么令人厌恶只是因为它们体内的脓已挤出去了。  她倒在床上,大叉着双腿,用两只手捂着它又抚弄了一阵,同时还一直用粗哑的声音咕哝着,说它好、漂亮,是一件宝贝、一件小宝贝。不过她那个小玩艺儿也的确不错!那个星期日下午空气中弥漫着春天的有毒气味,一切都很圆满。走出旅馆时我在外面刺眼的光线下重新细细打量了她一番,清清楚楚地看清了她是怎样的一个婊子—金牙、帽子上插的天竺葵、踩塌下去的鞋跟,等等,等等。更有甚者,她从我这儿骗到了一顿饭吃、抽了我的烟、坐了我的出租车,可是这一切一点也没有使我气恼。老实讲,是我鼓励她这样干的。我十分喜欢她,于是吃完饭后我俩回到旅馆又睡了一次,这一回是”为了爱情”。她的大而多毛的玩艺儿又一次发挥了它的活力和魔力,对于我它也开始具有独立的生命了。这儿是杰曼,那儿是她毛茸茸的玩艺,我既爱杰曼同它一分为二,也爱她俩合二为一。  走开时我又重新忆起那天看过的一本书。”这座城是一个屠宰场,尸体同屠夫混杂在一起,又被盗贼剥得精光,一层层躺在街上。狼从郊区悄悄溜进来吃他们,黑死病和其他瘟疫也来跟它们为伍,英国人也大踏步赶来。与此同时,死亡之舞在所有墓地的坟堆间旋转……”这书讲的是”愚蠢的查理”时代的巴黎轶事!一本可爱的书!看过后使人精神振奋、胃口大开,我至今仍为它着迷,我对文艺复兴时期的倡导人和先驱者知道的不多,不过对漂亮的面包师平博荷耐福夫人和让?卡波特大师这两人至今记忆犹新,一有空便想起他们。我也忘不了罗丹这个《流浪的犹太人》中的邪恶天才。他无法无天地胡作非为,”直到有一天被有八分之一黑人血统的塞西莉激怒并且智龋”坐在圣殿广场,冥想让? 卡博什手下屠宰老弱马匹的人的所做所为,我久久悲哀地想着”愚蠢的查理”的悲惨命运。他是一个智力不健全的人,在他的圣保罗旅馆大厅里转来转去,穿的是最脏最臭的破衣服,溃疡和害虫侵蚀着他的健康。别人丢给他一根骨头,他便像一条癫皮狗一样去啃。我在狮子街寻找从前兽栏的石头,他过去曾在这儿喂宠物,这是除了同他”出身低贱的伙伴”奥代特?德?尚帕狄丰打牌以外的唯一消遣。这可怜的傻子。.

我头一回遇见杰曼也是在一个星期日的下午,同今天差不多。那天我正沿着博马舍林荫道散步,身上装着我妻子从美国赶忙寄来的一百多法郎,很阔气。天气已有点春天的意思了,一个有毒有害的春天似乎就要从街上的下水道出入孔溢出。我每天夜里都回到这儿来,因为这儿有几条患麻风病的街道吸引着我,它们要待白天的光亮渐渐消失、妓女们各就各位后才暴露出其邪恶的光辉。尤其令我印象深刻的是巴斯德一瓦格纳街,它就位于藏在林荫大道后面、像一条熟睡的蜥蜴似的阿梅洛特街角上。在这个瓶子颈里总聚集着一串秃鹰,她们哇哇叫着扇动肮脏的翅膀,她们伸出锋利的爪子把你抓进一个门里。她们全是一伙快活而又贪婪的魔鬼,完事之后连系裤子的时间都不给你。她们领你来到背街的一个小房间里,通常是没有窗子的房间,然后她们撩起裙子坐在床边上,很快查看你一番,朝你那玩艺上吐口唾沫便替你把它塞进去了。你还在洗身子时,另一个婊子便扯着她的猎物站在门口等着呢,她冷淡地望着你最后草草洗几下了事。It was a Sunday afternoon, much like this, when I first met Germaine. I was strolling along the Boulevard Beaumarchais, rich by a hundred francs or so which my wife had frantically cabled from America. There was a touch of spring in the sir, a poisonous, malefic spring that seemed to burst from the manholes. Night after night I had been coming back to this quarter, attracted by certain leprous streets which only revealed their sinister splendor when the light of day had oozed away and the whores commenced to take up their posts. The Rue du Pasteur Wagner is one I recall in particular, corner of the Rue Amelot which hides behind the boulevard like a slumbering lizard. Here, at the neck of the bottle, so to speak, there was always a cluster of vultures who croaked and flapped their dirty wings, who reached out with sharp talons and plucked you into a doorway. Jolly, rapacious devils who didn't even give you time to button your pants when it was over. Led you into a little room off the street, a room without a window usually, and, sitting on the edge of the bed with skirts tucked up gave you a quick inspection, spat on your cock, and placed it for you. While you washed yourself another one stood at the door and, holding her victim by the hand, watched nonchalantly as you gave the finishing touches to your toilet.  一个人怎么能空着肚子四处乱逛一整天,而且还不时勃起一回?这是”灵魂剖析家”们能轻而易举解释清楚的秘密之一。 在一个星期日下午,百叶窗都放下来,无产阶级以一种麻木、呆滞的方式占领了街道。有几条大路纵向延伸出去,只会使人联想到一只下疳的大公鸡。而恰恰是这些大路有力地吸引着人们,例如圣德尼街或圣殿郊区。正如从前纽约市的联邦广场或是纽约曼哈顿的鲍里街前段,人们被引诱到简易博物馆来看橱窗内陈列的蜡制的、被梅毒和其他性病侵蚀的人体各个器官。巴黎像一个各处都患了病的巨大有机体向外延伸,这些美丽的大道相比之下不那么令人厌恶只是因为它们体内的脓已挤出去了。  一个人怎么能空着肚子四处乱逛一整天,而且还不时勃起一回?这是”灵魂剖析家”们能轻而易举解释清楚的秘密之一。 在一个星期日下午,百叶窗都放下来,无产阶级以一种麻木、呆滞的方式占领了街道。有几条大路纵向延伸出去,只会使人联想到一只下疳的大公鸡。而恰恰是这些大路有力地吸引着人们,例如圣德尼街或圣殿郊区。正如从前纽约市的联邦广场或是纽约曼哈顿的鲍里街前段,人们被引诱到简易博物馆来看橱窗内陈列的蜡制的、被梅毒和其他性病侵蚀的人体各个器官。巴黎像一个各处都患了病的巨大有机体向外延伸,这些美丽的大道相比之下不那么令人厌恶只是因为它们体内的脓已挤出去了。我头一回遇见杰曼也是在一个星期日的下午,同今天差不多。那天我正沿着博马舍林荫道散步,身上装着我妻子从美国赶忙寄来的一百多法郎,很阔气。天气已有点春天的意思了,一个有毒有害的春天似乎就要从街上的下水道出入孔溢出。我每天夜里都回到这儿来,因为这儿有几条患麻风病的街道吸引着我,它们要待白天的光亮渐渐消失、妓女们各就各位后才暴露出其邪恶的光辉。尤其令我印象深刻的是巴斯德一瓦格纳街,它就位于藏在林荫大道后面、像一条熟睡的蜥蜴似的阿梅洛特街角上。在这个瓶子颈里总聚集着一串秃鹰,她们哇哇叫着扇动肮脏的翅膀,她们伸出锋利的爪子把你抓进一个门里。她们全是一伙快活而又贪婪的魔鬼,完事之后连系裤子的时间都不给你。她们领你来到背街的一个小房间里,通常是没有窗子的房间,然后她们撩起裙子坐在床边上,很快查看你一番,朝你那玩艺上吐口唾沫便替你把它塞进去了。你还在洗身子时,另一个婊子便扯着她的猎物站在门口等着呢,她冷淡地望着你最后草草洗几下了事。  一个人怎么能空着肚子四处乱逛一整天,而且还不时勃起一回?这是”灵魂剖析家”们能轻而易举解释清楚的秘密之一。 在一个星期日下午,百叶窗都放下来,无产阶级以一种麻木、呆滞的方式占领了街道。有几条大路纵向延伸出去,只会使人联想到一只下疳的大公鸡。而恰恰是这些大路有力地吸引着人们,例如圣德尼街或圣殿郊区。正如从前纽约市的联邦广场或是纽约曼哈顿的鲍里街前段,人们被引诱到简易博物馆来看橱窗内陈列的蜡制的、被梅毒和其他性病侵蚀的人体各个器官。巴黎像一个各处都患了病的巨大有机体向外延伸,这些美丽的大道相比之下不那么令人厌恶只是因为它们体内的脓已挤出去了。.

It was a Sunday afternoon, much like this, when I first met Germaine. I was strolling along the Boulevard Beaumarchais, rich by a hundred francs or so which my wife had frantically cabled from America. There was a touch of spring in the sir, a poisonous, malefic spring that seemed to burst from the manholes. Night after night I had been coming back to this quarter, attracted by certain leprous streets which only revealed their sinister splendor when the light of day had oozed away and the whores commenced to take up their posts. The Rue du Pasteur Wagner is one I recall in particular, corner of the Rue Amelot which hides behind the boulevard like a slumbering lizard. Here, at the neck of the bottle, so to speak, there was always a cluster of vultures who croaked and flapped their dirty wings, who reached out with sharp talons and plucked you into a doorway. Jolly, rapacious devils who didn't even give you time to button your pants when it was over. Led you into a little room off the street, a room without a window usually, and, sitting on the edge of the bed with skirts tucked up gave you a quick inspection, spat on your cock, and placed it for you. While you washed yourself another one stood at the door and, holding her victim by the hand, watched nonchalantly as you gave the finishing touches to your toilet.When some time later I came to write about Claude, it was not Claude that I was thinking of but Germaine… "All the men she's been with and now you, just you, and barges going by, masts and hulls, the whole damned current of life flowing through you, through her, through all the guys behind you and after you, the flowers and the birds and the sun streaming in and the fragrance of it choking you, annihilating you." That was for Germaine! Claude was not the same, though I admired her tremendously - I even thought for a while that I loved her. Claude had a soul and a conscience; she had refinement, too, which is bAt the City Nortier, somewhere near the Place du Combat, I pause a few minutes to drink in the full squalor of the scene. It is a rectangular court like many another which one glimpses through the low passageways that flank the old arteries of Paris. In the middle of the court is a clump of decrepit buildings which have so rotted away that they have collapsed on one another and formed a sort of intestinal embrace. The ground is uneven, the flagging slippery with slime. A sort of human dump heap which has been filled in with cinders and dry garbage. The sun is setting fast. The colors die. They shift from purple to dried blood, from nacre to bister, from cool dead grays to pigeon shit. Here and there a lopsided monster stands in the window blinking like an owl. There is the shrill squawk of children with pale faces and bony limbs, rickety little urchins marked with the forceps. A fetid odor seeps from the walls, the odor of a mildewed mattress. Europe - medieval, grotesque, monstrous: a symphony in B mol. Directly across the street the Ciné Combat offers its distinguished clientele Metropolis.As she flung herself on the bed, with legs spread wide apart, she cupped it with her hands and stroked it some more, murmuring all the while in that hoarse, cracked voice of hers that it was good, beautiful, a treasure, a little treasure. And it was good, that little pussy of hers! That Sunday afternoon, with its poisonous breath of spring in the air, everything clicked again. As we stepped out of the hotel I looked her over again in the harsh light of day and I saw clearly what a whore she was - the gold teeth, the geranium in her hat, the run-down heels, etc., etc. Even the fact that she had wormed a dinner out of me and cigarettes and taxi hadn't the least disturbing effect upon me. I encouraged it, in fact. I liked her so well that after dinner we went back to the hotel again and took another shot at it. "For love," this time. And again that big, bushy thing of hers worked its bloom and magic. It began to have an independent existence - for me too. There was Germaine and there was that rose bush of hers. I liked them separately and I liked them together.. read more

How a man can wander about all day on an empty belly, and even get an erection once in a while, is one of those mysteries which are too easily explained by the "anatomists of the soul." On a Sunday afternoon, when the shutters are down and the proletariat possesses the street in a kind of dumb torpor, there are certain thoroughfares which remind one of nothing less than a big chancrous cock laid open longitudinally. And it is just these highways, the Rue St. Denis, for instance, or the Faubourg du Temple - which attract one irresistibly, much as in the old days, around Union Square or the upper reaches of the Bowery, one was drawn to the dime museums where in the show windows there were displayed wax reproductions of various organs of the body eaten away by syphilis and other venereal diseases. The city sprouts out like a huge organism diseased in every part, the beautiful thoroughfares only a little less repulsive because they have been drained of their pus.Part 3 Chapter 2Germaine was different. There was nothing to tell me so from her appearance. Nothing to distinguish her from the other trollops who met each afternoon and evening at the Café de l'Eléphant. As I say, it was a spring day and the few francs my wife had scraped up to cable me were jingling in my pocket. I had a sort of vague premonition that I would not reach the Bastille without being taken in tow by one of these buzzards. Sauntering along the boulevard I had noticed her verging toward me with that curious trot-about air of a whore and the run down heels and cheap jewelry and the pasty look of their kind which the rouge only accentuates. It was not difficult to come to terms with her. We sat in the back of the little tabac called L'Eléphant and talked it over quickly. In a few minutes we were in a five franc room on the Rue Amelot, the curtains drawn and the covers thrown back. She didn't rush things, Germaine. She sat on the bidet soaping herself and talked to me pleasantly about this and that; she liked the knickerbockers I was wearing. Très chic! she thought. They were once, but I had worn the seat out of them; fortunately the jacket covered my ass. As she stood up to dry herself, still talking to me pleasantly, suddenly she dropped the towel and, advancing toward me leisurely, she commenced rubbing her pussy affectionately, stroking it with her two hands, caressing it, patting it, patting it. There was something about her eloquence at that moment and the way she thrust that rosebush under my nose which remains unforgettable; she spoke of it as if it were some extraneous object which she had acquired at great cost, an object whose value had increased with time and which now she prized above everything in the world. Her words imbued it with a peculiar fragrance; it was no longer just her private organ, but a treasure, a magic, potent treasure, a God given thing - and none the less so because she traded it day in and day out for a few pieces of silver.  一个人怎么能空着肚子四处乱逛一整天,而且还不时勃起一回?这是”灵魂剖析家”们能轻而易举解释清楚的秘密之一。 在一个星期日下午,百叶窗都放下来,无产阶级以一种麻木、呆滞的方式占领了街道。有几条大路纵向延伸出去,只会使人联想到一只下疳的大公鸡。而恰恰是这些大路有力地吸引着人们,例如圣德尼街或圣殿郊区。正如从前纽约市的联邦广场或是纽约曼哈顿的鲍里街前段,人们被引诱到简易博物馆来看橱窗内陈列的蜡制的、被梅毒和其他性病侵蚀的人体各个器官。巴黎像一个各处都患了病的巨大有机体向外延伸,这些美丽的大道相比之下不那么令人厌恶只是因为它们体内的脓已挤出去了。.

How a man can wander about all day on an empty belly, and even get an erection once in a while, is one of those mysteries which are too easily explained by the "anatomists of the soul." On a Sunday afternoon, when the shutters are down and the proletariat possesses the street in a kind of dumb torpor, there are certain thoroughfares which remind one of nothing less than a big chancrous cock laid open longitudinally. And it is just these highways, the Rue St. Denis, for instance, or the Faubourg du Temple - which attract one irresistibly, much as in the old days, around Union Square or the upper reaches of the Bowery, one was drawn to the dime museums where in the show windows there were displayed wax reproductions of various organs of the body eaten away by syphilis and other venereal diseases. The city sprouts out like a huge organism diseased in every part, the beautiful thoroughfares only a little less repulsive because they have been drained of their pus.sters, sweetbreads. Some day, when I'm standing at the corner of 42nd Street and Broadway, I'm going to remember this title and I'm going to put down everything that goes on in my noodle - caviar, rain drops, axle grease, vermicelli, liverwurst - slices and slices of it. And I'll tell no one why, after I had put everything down, I suddenly went home and chopped the baby to pieces. Un acte gratuit pour vous, cher monsieur si bien coupé en tranches!  后来当我提笔写克劳德时,我心里想的不是克劳德而是杰曼……”同她厮混过的全体男人和你,现在只有你了。船驶过去,桅杆和船身都过去了,人生的全部见鬼的激流从你身上流过,从她身上流过,从紧跟着你的所有家伙身上流过。鲜花、小鸟和阳光都涌进来,它们的芬芳香气将呛死你、毁灭你。”这是为杰曼写的。克劳德则是另一码事,尽管我也十分崇拜她,有一阵子我还自以为爱她呢。克劳德有灵魂,有良心,行为也高尚,最后这一点在一个婊子身上倒不是什么优点。克劳德总叫人认为她有几分悲哀,她显然是无意中给人留下这种印象的—你不过只是命运选派来毁灭她的那股水流中的一部分。我说了,她是无意的,因为她是全世界最不可能有意识地在别人心目中造成这样一种印象的女人。她腼腆、敏感,所以不会那么做。克劳德在本质上完全是一位具有中等教养与智力的很不错的法国姑娘。生活捉弄了她,她身上有种气质,这种气质不够强健,无法应付日常生活的刺激。路易?菲利普的那一番可怕的话正是说她的,”当某一夜来临时一切都完了,许多血盆大口朝我们逼来,我们再也无力直立。我们的肌肉从身上耷拉下来,仿佛已被每张嘴嚼烂了。”从另一方面看,杰曼是个天生的婊子,她对自己扮演的角色十二万分满意,实际上还很喜欢这活儿呢。没有什么是会使她感到不快的,除了有时肚子饿、鞋①路易。菲利普(1874一1909),法国作家。--译者子破这类不足挂齿的区区小事之外,无聊!这便是她的最大不快了。毫无疑问,她也曾有过嫖客过多的日子,但也是仅此而已。大部分时间里她喜欢这种生活,或者表现出喜欢的样子。这当然还是有区别的—跟谁出去,同谁回来,不过要紧的是男人。一个男人,这就是她梦寐以求的。一个两腿问有件东西的男人,那个东西要能使她欢悦,使她狂喜得身子乱扭一气,同时还要体验到两人已合为一体,体验到人生的乐趣,只有在那儿她才能体验到人生,即在她用双手捂住的部位。At the City Nortier, somewhere near the Place du Combat, I pause a few minutes to drink in the full squalor of the scene. It is a rectangular court like many another which one glimpses through the low passageways that flank the old arteries of Paris. In the middle of the court is a clump of decrepit buildings which have so rotted away that they have collapsed on one another and formed a sort of intestinal embrace. The ground is uneven, the flagging slippery with slime. A sort of human dump heap which has been filled in with cinders and dry garbage. The sun is setting fast. The colors die. They shift from purple to dried blood, from nacre to bister, from cool dead grays to pigeon shit. Here and there a lopsided monster stands in the window blinking like an owl. There is the shrill squawk of children with pale faces and bony limbs, rickety little urchins marked with the forceps. A fetid odor seeps from the walls, the odor of a mildewed mattress. Europe - medieval, grotesque, monstrous: a symphony in B mol. Directly across the street the Ciné Combat offers its distinguished clientele Metropolis.At the City Nortier, somewhere near the Place du Combat, I pause a few minutes to drink in the full squalor of the scene. It is a rectangular court like many another which one glimpses through the low passageways that flank the old arteries of Paris. In the middle of the court is a clump of decrepit buildings which have so rotted away that they have collapsed on one another and formed a sort of intestinal embrace. The ground is uneven, the flagging slippery with slime. A sort of human dump heap which has been filled in with cinders and dry garbage. The sun is setting fast. The colors die. They shift from purple to dried blood, from nacre to bister, from cool dead grays to pigeon shit. Here and there a lopsided monster stands in the window blinking like an owl. There is the shrill squawk of children with pale faces and bony limbs, rickety little urchins marked with the forceps. A fetid odor seeps from the walls, the odor of a mildewed mattress. Europe - medieval, grotesque, monstrous: a symphony in B mol. Directly across the street the Ciné Combat offers its distinguished clientele Metropolis..

At the City Nortier, somewhere near the Place du Combat, I pause a few minutes to drink in the full squalor of the scene. It is a rectangular court like many another which one glimpses through the low passageways that flank the old arteries of Paris. In the middle of the court is a clump of decrepit buildings which have so rotted away that they have collapsed on one another and formed a sort of intestinal embrace. The ground is uneven, the flagging slippery with slime. A sort of human dump heap which has been filled in with cinders and dry garbage. The sun is setting fast. The colors die. They shift from purple to dried blood, from nacre to bister, from cool dead grays to pigeon shit. Here and there a lopsided monster stands in the window blinking like an owl. There is the shrill squawk of children with pale faces and bony limbs, rickety little urchins marked with the forceps. A fetid odor seeps from the walls, the odor of a mildewed mattress. Europe - medieval, grotesque, monstrous: a symphony in B mol. Directly across the street the Ciné Combat offers its distinguished clientele Metropolis.At the City Nortier, somewhere near the Place du Combat, I pause a few minutes to drink in the full squalor of the scene. It is a rectangular court like many another which one glimpses through the low passageways that flank the old arteries of Paris. In the middle of the court is a clump of decrepit buildings which have so rotted away that they have collapsed on one another and formed a sort of intestinal embrace. The ground is uneven, the flagging slippery with slime. A sort of human dump heap which has been filled in with cinders and dry garbage. The sun is setting fast. The colors die. They shift from purple to dried blood, from nacre to bister, from cool dead grays to pigeon shit. Here and there a lopsided monster stands in the window blinking like an owl. There is the shrill squawk of children with pale faces and bony limbs, rickety little urchins marked with the forceps. A fetid odor seeps from the walls, the odor of a mildewed mattress. Europe - medieval, grotesque, monstrous: a symphony in B mol. Directly across the street the Ciné Combat offers its distinguished clientele Metropolis.Coming away my mind reverts to a book that I was reading only the other day. "The town was a shambles; corpses, mangled by butchers and stripped by plunderers, lay thick in the streets; wolves sneaked from the suburbs to eat them; the black death and other plagues crept in to keep them company, and the English came marching on; the while the danse macabre whirled about the tombs in all the cemeteries…" Paris during the days of Charles the Silly! A lovely book! Refreshing, appetizing. I'm still enchanted by it. About the patrons and prodromes of the Renaissance I know little, but Madam Pimpernel, la belle boulangère, and Ma?tre Jehan Crapotte, l'orfèvre, these occupy my spare thoughts still. Not forgetting Rodin, the evil genius of The Wandering Jew, who practised his nefarious ways "until the day when he was enflamed and outwitted by the octoroon Cecily." Sitting in the Square du Temple, musing over the doings of the horse knackers led by Jean Caboche, I have thought long and ruefully over the sad fate of Charles the Silly. A half wit, who prowled about the halls of his H?tel St. Paul, garbed in the filthiest rags, eaten away by ulcers and vermin, gnawing a bone, when they flung him one, like a mangy dog. At the Rue des Lions I looked for the stones of the old menagerie where he once fed his pets. His only diversion, poor dolt, aside from those card games with his "low born companion," Odette de Champdivers.  走开时我又重新忆起那天看过的一本书。”这座城是一个屠宰场,尸体同屠夫混杂在一起,又被盗贼剥得精光,一层层躺在街上。狼从郊区悄悄溜进来吃他们,黑死病和其他瘟疫也来跟它们为伍,英国人也大踏步赶来。与此同时,死亡之舞在所有墓地的坟堆间旋转……”这书讲的是”愚蠢的查理”时代的巴黎轶事!一本可爱的书!看过后使人精神振奋、胃口大开,我至今仍为它着迷,我对文艺复兴时期的倡导人和先驱者知道的不多,不过对漂亮的面包师平博荷耐福夫人和让?卡波特大师这两人至今记忆犹新,一有空便想起他们。我也忘不了罗丹这个《流浪的犹太人》中的邪恶天才。他无法无天地胡作非为,”直到有一天被有八分之一黑人血统的塞西莉激怒并且智龋”坐在圣殿广场,冥想让? 卡博什手下屠宰老弱马匹的人的所做所为,我久久悲哀地想着”愚蠢的查理”的悲惨命运。他是一个智力不健全的人,在他的圣保罗旅馆大厅里转来转去,穿的是最脏最臭的破衣服,溃疡和害虫侵蚀着他的健康。别人丢给他一根骨头,他便像一条癫皮狗一样去啃。我在狮子街寻找从前兽栏的石头,他过去曾在这儿喂宠物,这是除了同他”出身低贱的伙伴”奥代特?德?尚帕狄丰打牌以外的唯一消遣。这可怜的傻子。As she flung herself on the bed, with legs spread wide apart, she cupped it with her hands and stroked it some more, murmuring all the while in that hoarse, cracked voice of hers that it was good, beautiful, a treasure, a little treasure. And it was good, that little pussy of hers! That Sunday afternoon, with its poisonous breath of spring in the air, everything clicked again. As we stepped out of the hotel I looked her over again in the harsh light of day and I saw clearly what a whore she was - the gold teeth, the geranium in her hat, the run-down heels, etc., etc. Even the fact that she had wormed a dinner out of me and cigarettes and taxi hadn't the least disturbing effect upon me. I encouraged it, in fact. I liked her so well that after dinner we went back to the hotel again and took another shot at it. "For love," this time. And again that big, bushy thing of hers worked its bloom and magic. It began to have an independent existence - for me too. There was Germaine and there was that rose bush of hers. I liked them separately and I liked them together..

  她倒在床上,大叉着双腿,用两只手捂着它又抚弄了一阵,同时还一直用粗哑的声音咕哝着,说它好、漂亮,是一件宝贝、一件小宝贝。不过她那个小玩艺儿也的确不错!那个星期日下午空气中弥漫着春天的有毒气味,一切都很圆满。走出旅馆时我在外面刺眼的光线下重新细细打量了她一番,清清楚楚地看清了她是怎样的一个婊子—金牙、帽子上插的天竺葵、踩塌下去的鞋跟,等等,等等。更有甚者,她从我这儿骗到了一顿饭吃、抽了我的烟、坐了我的出租车,可是这一切一点也没有使我气恼。老实讲,是我鼓励她这样干的。我十分喜欢她,于是吃完饭后我俩回到旅馆又睡了一次,这一回是”为了爱情”。她的大而多毛的玩艺儿又一次发挥了它的活力和魔力,对于我它也开始具有独立的生命了。这儿是杰曼,那儿是她毛茸茸的玩艺,我既爱杰曼同它一分为二,也爱她俩合二为一。Part 3 Chapter 2At the City Nortier, somewhere near the Place du Combat, I pause a few minutes to drink in the full squalor of the scene. It is a rectangular court like many another which one glimpses through the low passageways that flank the old arteries of Paris. In the middle of the court is a clump of decrepit buildings which have so rotted away that they have collapsed on one another and formed a sort of intestinal embrace. The ground is uneven, the flagging slippery with slime. A sort of human dump heap which has been filled in with cinders and dry garbage. The sun is setting fast. The colors die. They shift from purple to dried blood, from nacre to bister, from cool dead grays to pigeon shit. Here and there a lopsided monster stands in the window blinking like an owl. There is the shrill squawk of children with pale faces and bony limbs, rickety little urchins marked with the forceps. A fetid odor seeps from the walls, the odor of a mildewed mattress. Europe - medieval, grotesque, monstrous: a symphony in B mol. Directly across the street the Ciné Combat offers its distinguished clientele Metropolis.可杰曼却与众不同,这从她的外貌上可看不出来,没有什么特征可以把她跟另外那伙每天下午和傍晚在大象咖啡厅碰头的妓女区别开。我刚才说过,这是春季的一天,我妻子积攒起来汇给我的那几个法郎在口袋里叮当乱响。我有一种模模糊糊的预感:到达巴士底广场之前我准会被一只秃鹰拖了去。沿着林荫大道漫步时,我早就注意到杰曼在朝我这边蹭,一副到处游荡看热闹的婊子派头。她的鞋跟塌下来,她戴着便宜的手饰,脸色发青,涂上胭脂反倒更显出妓女特有的青白色皮肤,同她谈妥条件并不难,我们坐在那家也叫作”大象”的小香烟店里很快便谈好了。几分钟后我们便在阿梅洛街上花五法郎租了一个房间。窗帘放下,床罩也掀到一边去了,她并不急于尽快了事,这位杰曼。她坐在坐浴盆上擦肥皂,一面愉快地跟我东拉西扯,说她喜欢我穿的灯笼短裤。她认为它”棒极了”!从前是的,不过我已经穿破了屁股坐的地方,幸亏靠外衣遮住屁股。她仍跟我愉快地说着话,起来擦干了身子,突兀地扔下毛巾朝我随随便便走过来。她开始热切地抚弄自己的下体,用两只手摸它、爱抚它、拍它。当时她滔滔不绝说话的劲头儿和把下体插到我鼻子底下这个动作至今仍使我难以忘怀。她谈到它时那种口气仿佛叫你觉得那玩艺凡是她花了大价钱买来的,身体以外的某件东西,这件东西的价值随着时间的推移在增加,现在她在这个世界上最宝贵的东西便莫过于它了。她的话赋予它一种奇妙的芬芳气味,它已不再只是她的下体,还是一件宝贝、一件魔物、一件极有魔力的宝贝、一件上帝赋予的礼物,而且并不因为她每天都用它换几个钱而丧失一点点魔力。As she flung herself on the bed, with legs spread wide apart, she cupped it with her hands and stroked it some more, murmuring all the while in that hoarse, cracked voice of hers that it was good, beautiful, a treasure, a little treasure. And it was good, that little pussy of hers! That Sunday afternoon, with its poisonous breath of spring in the air, everything clicked again. As we stepped out of the hotel I looked her over again in the harsh light of day and I saw clearly what a whore she was - the gold teeth, the geranium in her hat, the run-down heels, etc., etc. Even the fact that she had wormed a dinner out of me and cigarettes and taxi hadn't the least disturbing effect upon me. I encouraged it, in fact. I liked her so well that after dinner we went back to the hotel again and took another shot at it. "For love," this time. And again that big, bushy thing of hers worked its bloom and magic. It began to have an independent existence - for me too. There was Germaine and there was that rose bush of hers. I liked them separately and I liked them together.  在靠近竞技广场不远的北城区,我停了几分钟欣赏这片地方的脏乱景色。同人们在低低的、同巴黎的旧交通要道平行的走道里看到的许多广场一样,这个广场是长方形的。广场中央有一些又破又旧的建筑,衰败不堪,一座倒在另一座顶上,形成了像一团肠子一样的一堆东西。地面不平,铺地的石板上尽是脏东西,很滑,真像一堆混杂着炉渣和垃圾的人屎尿。太阳很快要落下去了,天空中的色彩也消失了,紫色变成干血色,青贝色变成褐色,黯淡的灰色变成鸽粪色。到处都有一个歪七扭八的怪物站在窗子上,像猫头鹰一样挤眼睛,脸色苍白、骨瘦如柴的孩子们发出刺耳的尖叫声,患佝偻病的小顽童头上往往有医生用钳子夹过的印痕。墙里渗出一股恶臭味,那是发霉的床垫味。欧洲,中世纪的、怪诞的、恐怖的欧洲—B-mol调的交响曲。街正对面的竞技影院给它的尊贵的顾客们提供了这个大都市的各种景观。sters, sweetbreads. Some day, when I'm standing at the corner of 42nd Street and Broadway, I'm going to remember this title and I'm going to put down everything that goes on in my noodle - caviar, rain drops, axle grease, vermicelli, liverwurst - slices and slices of it. And I'll tell no one why, after I had put everything down, I suddenly went home and chopped the baby to pieces. Un acte gratuit pour vous, cher monsieur si bien coupé en tranches!我头一回遇见杰曼也是在一个星期日的下午,同今天差不多。那天我正沿着博马舍林荫道散步,身上装着我妻子从美国赶忙寄来的一百多法郎,很阔气。天气已有点春天的意思了,一个有毒有害的春天似乎就要从街上的下水道出入孔溢出。我每天夜里都回到这儿来,因为这儿有几条患麻风病的街道吸引着我,它们要待白天的光亮渐渐消失、妓女们各就各位后才暴露出其邪恶的光辉。尤其令我印象深刻的是巴斯德一瓦格纳街,它就位于藏在林荫大道后面、像一条熟睡的蜥蜴似的阿梅洛特街角上。在这个瓶子颈里总聚集着一串秃鹰,她们哇哇叫着扇动肮脏的翅膀,她们伸出锋利的爪子把你抓进一个门里。她们全是一伙快活而又贪婪的魔鬼,完事之后连系裤子的时间都不给你。她们领你来到背街的一个小房间里,通常是没有窗子的房间,然后她们撩起裙子坐在床边上,很快查看你一番,朝你那玩艺上吐口唾沫便替你把它塞进去了。你还在洗身子时,另一个婊子便扯着她的猎物站在门口等着呢,她冷淡地望着你最后草草洗几下了事。.

  走开时我又重新忆起那天看过的一本书。”这座城是一个屠宰场,尸体同屠夫混杂在一起,又被盗贼剥得精光,一层层躺在街上。狼从郊区悄悄溜进来吃他们,黑死病和其他瘟疫也来跟它们为伍,英国人也大踏步赶来。与此同时,死亡之舞在所有墓地的坟堆间旋转……”这书讲的是”愚蠢的查理”时代的巴黎轶事!一本可爱的书!看过后使人精神振奋、胃口大开,我至今仍为它着迷,我对文艺复兴时期的倡导人和先驱者知道的不多,不过对漂亮的面包师平博荷耐福夫人和让?卡波特大师这两人至今记忆犹新,一有空便想起他们。我也忘不了罗丹这个《流浪的犹太人》中的邪恶天才。他无法无天地胡作非为,”直到有一天被有八分之一黑人血统的塞西莉激怒并且智龋”坐在圣殿广场,冥想让? 卡博什手下屠宰老弱马匹的人的所做所为,我久久悲哀地想着”愚蠢的查理”的悲惨命运。他是一个智力不健全的人,在他的圣保罗旅馆大厅里转来转去,穿的是最脏最臭的破衣服,溃疡和害虫侵蚀着他的健康。别人丢给他一根骨头,他便像一条癫皮狗一样去啃。我在狮子街寻找从前兽栏的石头,他过去曾在这儿喂宠物,这是除了同他”出身低贱的伙伴”奥代特?德?尚帕狄丰打牌以外的唯一消遣。这可怜的傻子。As I say, she was different, Germaine. Later, when she discovered my true circumstances, she treated me nobly - blew me to drinks, gave me credit, pawned my things, introduced me to her friends, and so on. She even apologized for not lending me money, which I understood quite well after her maquereau had been pointed out to me. Night after night I walked down the Boulevard Beaumarchais to the little tabac where they all congregated and I waited for her to stroll in and give me a few minutes of her precious time.  在靠近竞技广场不远的北城区,我停了几分钟欣赏这片地方的脏乱景色。同人们在低低的、同巴黎的旧交通要道平行的走道里看到的许多广场一样,这个广场是长方形的。广场中央有一些又破又旧的建筑,衰败不堪,一座倒在另一座顶上,形成了像一团肠子一样的一堆东西。地面不平,铺地的石板上尽是脏东西,很滑,真像一堆混杂着炉渣和垃圾的人屎尿。太阳很快要落下去了,天空中的色彩也消失了,紫色变成干血色,青贝色变成褐色,黯淡的灰色变成鸽粪色。到处都有一个歪七扭八的怪物站在窗子上,像猫头鹰一样挤眼睛,脸色苍白、骨瘦如柴的孩子们发出刺耳的尖叫声,患佝偻病的小顽童头上往往有医生用钳子夹过的印痕。墙里渗出一股恶臭味,那是发霉的床垫味。欧洲,中世纪的、怪诞的、恐怖的欧洲—B-mol调的交响曲。街正对面的竞技影院给它的尊贵的顾客们提供了这个大都市的各种景观。.

Part 3 Chapter 2  她倒在床上,大叉着双腿,用两只手捂着它又抚弄了一阵,同时还一直用粗哑的声音咕哝着,说它好、漂亮,是一件宝贝、一件小宝贝。不过她那个小玩艺儿也的确不错!那个星期日下午空气中弥漫着春天的有毒气味,一切都很圆满。走出旅馆时我在外面刺眼的光线下重新细细打量了她一番,清清楚楚地看清了她是怎样的一个婊子—金牙、帽子上插的天竺葵、踩塌下去的鞋跟,等等,等等。更有甚者,她从我这儿骗到了一顿饭吃、抽了我的烟、坐了我的出租车,可是这一切一点也没有使我气恼。老实讲,是我鼓励她这样干的。我十分喜欢她,于是吃完饭后我俩回到旅馆又睡了一次,这一回是”为了爱情”。她的大而多毛的玩艺儿又一次发挥了它的活力和魔力,对于我它也开始具有独立的生命了。这儿是杰曼,那儿是她毛茸茸的玩艺,我既爱杰曼同它一分为二,也爱她俩合二为一。Part 3 Chapter 2可杰曼却与众不同,这从她的外貌上可看不出来,没有什么特征可以把她跟另外那伙每天下午和傍晚在大象咖啡厅碰头的妓女区别开。我刚才说过,这是春季的一天,我妻子积攒起来汇给我的那几个法郎在口袋里叮当乱响。我有一种模模糊糊的预感:到达巴士底广场之前我准会被一只秃鹰拖了去。沿着林荫大道漫步时,我早就注意到杰曼在朝我这边蹭,一副到处游荡看热闹的婊子派头。她的鞋跟塌下来,她戴着便宜的手饰,脸色发青,涂上胭脂反倒更显出妓女特有的青白色皮肤,同她谈妥条件并不难,我们坐在那家也叫作”大象”的小香烟店里很快便谈好了。几分钟后我们便在阿梅洛街上花五法郎租了一个房间。窗帘放下,床罩也掀到一边去了,她并不急于尽快了事,这位杰曼。她坐在坐浴盆上擦肥皂,一面愉快地跟我东拉西扯,说她喜欢我穿的灯笼短裤。她认为它”棒极了”!从前是的,不过我已经穿破了屁股坐的地方,幸亏靠外衣遮住屁股。她仍跟我愉快地说着话,起来擦干了身子,突兀地扔下毛巾朝我随随便便走过来。她开始热切地抚弄自己的下体,用两只手摸它、爱抚它、拍它。当时她滔滔不绝说话的劲头儿和把下体插到我鼻子底下这个动作至今仍使我难以忘怀。她谈到它时那种口气仿佛叫你觉得那玩艺凡是她花了大价钱买来的,身体以外的某件东西,这件东西的价值随着时间的推移在增加,现在她在这个世界上最宝贵的东西便莫过于它了。她的话赋予它一种奇妙的芬芳气味,它已不再只是她的下体,还是一件宝贝、一件魔物、一件极有魔力的宝贝、一件上帝赋予的礼物,而且并不因为她每天都用它换几个钱而丧失一点点魔力。.

  走开时我又重新忆起那天看过的一本书。”这座城是一个屠宰场,尸体同屠夫混杂在一起,又被盗贼剥得精光,一层层躺在街上。狼从郊区悄悄溜进来吃他们,黑死病和其他瘟疫也来跟它们为伍,英国人也大踏步赶来。与此同时,死亡之舞在所有墓地的坟堆间旋转……”这书讲的是”愚蠢的查理”时代的巴黎轶事!一本可爱的书!看过后使人精神振奋、胃口大开,我至今仍为它着迷,我对文艺复兴时期的倡导人和先驱者知道的不多,不过对漂亮的面包师平博荷耐福夫人和让?卡波特大师这两人至今记忆犹新,一有空便想起他们。我也忘不了罗丹这个《流浪的犹太人》中的邪恶天才。他无法无天地胡作非为,”直到有一天被有八分之一黑人血统的塞西莉激怒并且智龋”坐在圣殿广场,冥想让? 卡博什手下屠宰老弱马匹的人的所做所为,我久久悲哀地想着”愚蠢的查理”的悲惨命运。他是一个智力不健全的人,在他的圣保罗旅馆大厅里转来转去,穿的是最脏最臭的破衣服,溃疡和害虫侵蚀着他的健康。别人丢给他一根骨头,他便像一条癫皮狗一样去啃。我在狮子街寻找从前兽栏的石头,他过去曾在这儿喂宠物,这是除了同他”出身低贱的伙伴”奥代特?德?尚帕狄丰打牌以外的唯一消遣。这可怜的傻子。  一个人怎么能空着肚子四处乱逛一整天,而且还不时勃起一回?这是”灵魂剖析家”们能轻而易举解释清楚的秘密之一。 在一个星期日下午,百叶窗都放下来,无产阶级以一种麻木、呆滞的方式占领了街道。有几条大路纵向延伸出去,只会使人联想到一只下疳的大公鸡。而恰恰是这些大路有力地吸引着人们,例如圣德尼街或圣殿郊区。正如从前纽约市的联邦广场或是纽约曼哈顿的鲍里街前段,人们被引诱到简易博物馆来看橱窗内陈列的蜡制的、被梅毒和其他性病侵蚀的人体各个器官。巴黎像一个各处都患了病的巨大有机体向外延伸,这些美丽的大道相比之下不那么令人厌恶只是因为它们体内的脓已挤出去了。Coming away my mind reverts to a book that I was reading only the other day. "The town was a shambles; corpses, mangled by butchers and stripped by plunderers, lay thick in the streets; wolves sneaked from the suburbs to eat them; the black death and other plagues crept in to keep them company, and the English came marching on; the while the danse macabre whirled about the tombs in all the cemeteries…" Paris during the days of Charles the Silly! A lovely book! Refreshing, appetizing. I'm still enchanted by it. About the patrons and prodromes of the Renaissance I know little, but Madam Pimpernel, la belle boulangère, and Ma?tre Jehan Crapotte, l'orfèvre, these occupy my spare thoughts still. Not forgetting Rodin, the evil genius of The Wandering Jew, who practised his nefarious ways "until the day when he was enflamed and outwitted by the octoroon Cecily." Sitting in the Square du Temple, musing over the doings of the horse knackers led by Jean Caboche, I have thought long and ruefully over the sad fate of Charles the Silly. A half wit, who prowled about the halls of his H?tel St. Paul, garbed in the filthiest rags, eaten away by ulcers and vermin, gnawing a bone, when they flung him one, like a mangy dog. At the Rue des Lions I looked for the stones of the old menagerie where he once fed his pets. His only diversion, poor dolt, aside from those card games with his "low born companion," Odette de Champdivers.  她倒在床上,大叉着双腿,用两只手捂着它又抚弄了一阵,同时还一直用粗哑的声音咕哝着,说它好、漂亮,是一件宝贝、一件小宝贝。不过她那个小玩艺儿也的确不错!那个星期日下午空气中弥漫着春天的有毒气味,一切都很圆满。走出旅馆时我在外面刺眼的光线下重新细细打量了她一番,清清楚楚地看清了她是怎样的一个婊子—金牙、帽子上插的天竺葵、踩塌下去的鞋跟,等等,等等。更有甚者,她从我这儿骗到了一顿饭吃、抽了我的烟、坐了我的出租车,可是这一切一点也没有使我气恼。老实讲,是我鼓励她这样干的。我十分喜欢她,于是吃完饭后我俩回到旅馆又睡了一次,这一回是”为了爱情”。她的大而多毛的玩艺儿又一次发挥了它的活力和魔力,对于我它也开始具有独立的生命了。这儿是杰曼,那儿是她毛茸茸的玩艺,我既爱杰曼同它一分为二,也爱她俩合二为一。  我刚才说过,杰曼是与众不同的。后来她发现了我的实际境况,便宽宏大度地待我—花很多钱请我喝酒、让我赊帐、帮我典当东西、把我介绍给她的朋友以及提供其它诸如此类的帮助。她还为没能借给我钱道歉,这我完全能理解,因为后来她把她的鸨母指给我看了。我每天夜里沿着博马舍林荫道来到那家小香烟店,妓女们都聚集在这儿。我等着她回来把她的宝贵时间匀给我几分钟。. read more