《渺小一生》:“迪——安。她的名字應(yīng)該念‘迪——安’。”

　 They were all bored with the hair project, although Jude—alone among them—thought that the pieces were lovely and would someday be considered significant. In thanks, JB had given Jude a hair-covered hairbrush, but then had reclaimed the gift when it looked like Ezra’s father’s friend might be interested in buying it (he didn’t, but JB never returned the hairbrush to Jude). The hair project had proved difficult in other ways as well; another evening, when the three of them had somehow been once again conned into going to Little Italy and combing out more hair, Malcolm had commented that the hair stank. Which it did: not of anything distasteful but simply the tangy metallic scent of unwashed scalp. But JB had thrown one of his mounting tantrums, and had called Malcolm a self-hating Negro and an Uncle Tom and a traitor to the race, and Malcolm, who very rarely angered but who angered over accusations like this, had dumped his wine into the nearest bag of hair and gotten up and stamped out. Jude had hurried, the best he could, after Malcolm, and Willem had stayed to handle JB. And although the two of them reconciled the next day, in the end Willem and Jude felt (unfairly, they knew) slightly angrier at Malcolm, since the next weekend they were back in Queens, walking from barbershop to barbershop, trying to replace the bag of hair that he had ruined.

他們?nèi)紝@個頭發(fā)計劃感到厭煩，只有裘德覺得這些東西很不錯，有一天會成為重要作品。為了答謝，杰比給了裘德一個黏滿頭發(fā)的梳子，可是后來他又把這個禮物收回了，因為埃茲拉老爸的一個朋友似乎有興趣買（結(jié)果他沒買，杰比也沒把梳子還給裘德）。頭發(fā)計劃在其他方面也遇到了困難。有天晚上，他們?nèi)齻€人又去了杰比在小意大利的住處，幫他整理頭發(fā)，當(dāng)時，馬爾科姆說那些頭發(fā)好臭。這話沒錯：他完全沒有說作品爛的意思，純粹是指那種沒洗的頭發(fā)所散發(fā)的金屬性刺鼻氣味。但杰比因此亂發(fā)脾氣，罵馬爾科姆是自我厭棄的黑鬼、湯姆叔叔、自己種族的叛徒，向來很少生氣的馬爾科姆聽到這些指控也發(fā)火了，把自己的葡萄酒倒進旁邊一袋頭發(fā)里，站起來氣沖沖地走了。裘德趕緊盡力追出去，威廉則留下來安撫杰比。盡管這兩個人次日就和好了，但是到頭來，威廉和裘德對馬爾科姆更不滿一些（這不公平，他們知道），因為第二個周末，他們又去了皇后區(qū)，一家接著一家拜訪理發(fā)店，好補償那袋被馬爾科姆毀掉的頭發(fā)。

　 “How’s life on the black planet?” Willem asked JB now.

“黑色星球的生活怎么樣了？”這會兒威廉問杰比。

　 “Black,” said JB, stuffing the plait he was untangling back into the bag. “Let’s go; I told Annika we’d be there at one thirty.” The phone on his desk began to ring.

“黑色的。”杰比說，把他正在梳理的黑色辮子塞回袋子里，“走吧，我跟安妮卡說我們1點半會到。”他桌上的電話響了。

　 “Don’t you want to get that?”

“你不想接嗎？”

　 “They’ll call back.”

“他們會再打來的。”

　 As they walked downtown, JB complained. So far, he had concentrated most of his seductive energies on a senior editor named Dean, whom they all called DeeAnn. They had been at a party, the three of them, held at one of the junior editor’s parents’ apartment in the Dakota, in which art-hung room bled into art-hung room. As JB talked with his coworkers in the kitchen, Malcolm and Willem had walked through the apartment together (Where had Jude been that night? Working, probably), looking at a series of Edward Burtynskys hanging in the guest bedroom, a suite of water towers by the Bechers mounted in four rows of five over the desk in the den, an enormous Gursky floating above the half bookcases in the library, and, in the master bedroom, an entire wall of Diane Arbuses, covering the space so thoroughly that only a few centimeters of blank wall remained at the top and bottom. They had been admiring a picture of two sweet-faced girls with Down syndrome playing for the camera in their too-tight, too-childish bathing suits, when Dean had approached them. He was a tall man, but he had a small, gophery, pockmarked face that made him appear feral and untrustworthy.

他們邊在市區(qū)走，杰比邊抱怨。到目前為止，他施展魅力的主要對象，是一個名叫迪安的資深編輯，他們背后喊他“迪——安”。之前，他們?nèi)齻€人曾去參加一個初級編輯在父母家辦的派對。那是位于達科他大樓的一間公寓，每個房間都掛著藝術(shù)品。杰比跟他的同事在廚房里聊天時，馬爾科姆和威廉就一起在公寓里逛（裘德那天晚上在哪里？大概是在加班吧），欣賞客房里一系列愛德華·伯汀斯基（Edward Burtynsky）的作品；休息室書桌后方五橫排、每排四幀，由貝歇爾（Becher）夫婦所拍攝的水塔照片；書房矮書柜上方一幅巨大的安德烈亞斯·古爾斯基（Andreas Gursky）作品；以及主臥墻上戴安娜·阿爾比絲（Diane Arbus）的攝影作品，密密麻麻，幾乎蓋滿了墻面，只剩上下各幾厘米的空白。他們正在欣賞其中一張照片，里面是兩個容貌甜美的唐氏征少女，身穿過于孩子氣的緊身泳裝，正對著鏡頭擺姿勢。此時迪安向他們走來，他個子很高，卻有一張鼓得像囊鼠的痘疤小臉，讓他看起來顯得野蠻而不可信任。

　 They introduced themselves, explained that they were here because they were JB’s friends. Dean told them that he was one of the senior editors at the magazine, and that he handled all the arts coverage.

他們自我介紹，解釋他們是以杰比朋友的身份來參加派對的。迪安則說自己是雜志的資深編輯之一，負(fù)責(zé)所有的藝術(shù)報道。

　 “Ah,” Willem said, careful not to look at Malcolm, whom he did not trust not to react. JB had told them that he had targeted the arts editor as his potential mark; this must be him.

“啊。”威廉說，刻意不看馬爾科姆，怕他會有什么反應(yīng)。杰比跟他們說過他已經(jīng)把目標(biāo)對準(zhǔn)藝術(shù)編輯了，想必就是眼前這位。

　 “Have you ever seen anything like this?” Dean asked them, waving a hand at the Arbuses.

“你們見過這樣的作品嗎？”迪安問他們，一手揮向那些阿爾比絲的作品。

　 “Never,” Willem said. “I love Diane Arbus.”

“從來沒有。”威廉說，“我好愛戴安娜·阿爾比絲。”

　 Dean stiffened, and his little features seemed to gather themselves into a knot in the center of his little face. “It’s DeeAnn.”

迪安整個人僵住了，小小的五官似乎在那張小臉中央擠成一團：“是迪——安。”

　 “What?”

“什么？”

　 “DeeAnn. You pronounce her name ‘DeeAnn.’ ”

“迪——安。她的名字應(yīng)該念‘迪——安’。”

　 They had barely been able to get out of the room without laughing. “DeeAnn!” JB had said later, when they told him the story. “Christ! What a pretentious little shit.”

他們一走出房間就開始大笑，“迪——安”！后來他們告訴杰比這件事，杰比說：“老天！真是個做作的小混蛋。”

　 “But he’s your pretentious little shit,” Jude had said. And ever since, they had referred to Dean as “DeeAnn.”

“不過他可是你的做作小混蛋。”裘德說。從此以后，他們提到迪安，都故意念成“迪——安”。

　 Unfortunately, however, it appeared that despite JB’s tireless cultivation of DeeAnn, he was no closer to being included in the magazine than he had been three months ago. JB had even let DeeAnn suck him off in the steam room at the gym, and still nothing. Every day, JB found a reason to wander back into the editorial offices and over to the bulletin board on which the next three months’ story ideas were written on white note cards, and every day he looked at the section dedicated to up-and-coming artists for his name, and every day he was disappointed. Instead he saw the names of various no-talents and overhypes, people owed favors or people who knew people to whom favors were owed.

然而，不幸的是，盡管杰比努力不懈地想跟迪——安搞好關(guān)系，但他登上雜志的機會并不比三個月前大。杰比甚至讓迪——安在健身房的蒸汽室里幫他做，結(jié)果還是沒用。每一天，杰比都會找個借口溜進編輯室，看看公布欄上貼的那些白色筆記紙，上頭寫著往后三個月的報道構(gòu)想。他每天都在報道新人藝術(shù)家的那一區(qū)尋找自己的名字，但次次都失望了。他只看到一堆沒有才華、被過度宣傳的名字，都是搞關(guān)系，或是有背景的人。

　 “If I ever see Ezra up there, I’m going to kill myself,” JB always said, to which the others said: You won’t, JB, and Don’t worry, JB—you’ll be up there someday, and What do you need them for, JB? You’ll find somewhere else, to which JB would reply, respectively, “Are you sure?,” and “I fucking doubt it,” and “I’ve fucking invested this time—three whole months of my fucking life—I better be fucking up there, or this whole thing has been a fucking waste, just like everything else,” everything else meaning, variously, grad school, moving back to New York, the hair series, or life in general, depending on how nihilistic he felt that day.

“要是哪天在上頭看到埃茲拉的名字，我就斃了自己。”杰比總是這么說，其他人就會說：不會的，杰比，或別擔(dān)心，杰比，有一天你的名字會在上頭的，又或你根本不需要他們，杰比。別的雜志會報道你的。而杰比聽了，會分別回答：“你確定嗎？”“我他媽的很懷疑”，還有“我他媽的投資了這么多時間，我人生他媽的整整三個月。我最好能登上那個他媽的公布欄，不然這整件事真他媽的浪費時間，就跟其他事情一樣”。所謂的其他事情，每回指的可能都不一樣，研究生院、搬回紐約、頭發(fā)系列，或者泛指他的生活，要依他當(dāng)天的心情有多么虛無而定。

　 He was still complaining when they reached Lispenard Street. Willem was new enough to the city—he had only lived there a year—to have never heard of the street, which was barely more than an alley, two blocks long and one block south of Canal, and yet JB, who had grown up in Brooklyn, hadn’t heard of it either.

來到利斯本納街時，他還在抱怨。威廉搬到紐約不算太久（只住了一年），所以完全沒聽說過這條街，其實這里幾乎只能算是一條巷子，兩個街區(qū)長，往北一個街區(qū)就是堅尼路。不過杰比從小在布魯克林長大，也沒聽說過這條街。

　 They found the building and punched buzzer 5C. A girl answered, her voice made scratchy and hollow by the intercom, and rang them in. Inside, the lobby was narrow and high-ceilinged and painted a curdled, gleaming shit-brown, which made them feel like they were at the bottom of a well.

他們找到那棟樓，按了5C的電鈴。一個年輕女子接了，對講機使她的聲音發(fā)出沙沙的雜音，顯得很空洞，她按了開門鈕。里頭的大廳很窄，挑高天花板漆成了一種黏糊糊的、大便似的褐色，害他們覺得自己像是在一口井底。

　 The girl was waiting for them at the door of the apartment. “Hey, JB,” she said, and then looked at Willem and blushed.

那年輕女子站在5C門口等他們。“嘿，杰比。”她說，然后看著威廉，臉紅了。