《渺小一生》:讓我好起來吧，他央求著

　 As he stands on the roof, he considers what he has done: He has been irrational. He has gotten angry at someone who has, once again, offered to help him, someone he is grateful for, someone he owes, someone he loves. Why am I acting like this, he thinks. But there’s no answer.

他站在屋頂時，想著自己剛剛做了些什么。他不理性，他再度對一個想幫忙的人生氣，是一個他慶幸擁有、虧欠許多，而且深愛的人。為什么我要這樣？他心想，但沒有答案。

　 Let me get better, he asks. Let me get better or let me end it. He feels that he is in a cold cement room, from which prong several exits, and one by one, he is shutting the doors, closing himself in the room, eliminating his chances for escape. But why is he doing this? Why is he trapping himself in this place he hates and fears when there are other places he could go? This, he thinks, is his punishment for depending on others: one by one, they will leave him, and he will be alone again, and this time it will be worse because he will remember it had once been better. He has the sense, once again, that his life is moving backward, that it is becoming smaller and smaller, the cement box shrinking around him until he is left with a space so cramped that he must fold himself into a crouch, because if he lies down, the ceiling will lower itself upon him and he will be smothered.

讓我好起來吧，他央求著。讓我好起來，不然就讓我結(jié)束吧。他覺得自己仿佛在一個冰冷的水泥房間內(nèi)，對外有好幾個出口，但一扇接一扇，他在把那些門逐一關(guān)上，把自己封閉在里面，放棄了脫逃的機會。但他為什么要這樣做？為什么他明明有其他地方可去，還要把自己困在這個他既痛恨又害怕的地方？這個，他心想，就是依賴他人的懲罰：一個接一個，他們都會離他而去，他又會再度孤單，而且這回會更糟，因為他會想起以前更美好的時光。他再度覺得自己的人生在往后退，變得越來越小，他置身的水泥房間縮得好小，最后他只能蹲著蜷縮在里面，如果他躺下，天花板就會朝他降下，把他壓得窒息。

　 Before he goes to bed he writes Harold a note apologizing for his behavior. He works through Saturday; he sleeps through Sunday. And a new week begins. On Tuesday, he gets a message from Todd. The first of the lawsuits are being settled, for massive figures, but even Todd knows enough not to ask him to celebrate. His messages, by phone or by e-mail, are clipped and sober: the name of the company that is ready to settle, the proposed amount, a short “congratulations.”

上床睡覺前，他寫了一張字條給哈羅德，為自己的行為道歉。他星期六工作一整天，星期天睡一整天。然后又是新的一周開始。星期二，他收到托德的消息，說他們那些官司中的第一宗和解了，拿到一個很大的數(shù)字，但就連托德都知道不能要他慶祝。他的留言和電子郵件短促而冷靜：說了那家準(zhǔn)備和解的公司名稱、他們提出的數(shù)字，然后一個簡短的“祝賀”。

　 On Wednesday, he is meant to stop by the artists’ nonprofit where he still does pro bono work, but he instead meets JB downtown at the Whitney, where his retrospective is being hung. This show is another souvenir from the ghosted past: it has been in the planning stages for almost two years. When JB had told them about it, the three of them had thrown a small party for him at Greene Street.

星期三，他本來想去他一直在做義工的非營利藝術(shù)家團體，結(jié)果卻改去了下城的惠特尼美國藝術(shù)博物館，跟正在那為回顧展布展的杰比碰面。這個展覽是糾纏不放的過去留下的另一個紀(jì)念品，展覽已經(jīng)籌劃了將近兩年。當(dāng)初杰比跟他們說起獲邀的消息時，他們?nèi)诉€在格林街幫杰比辦了個小派對。

　 “Well, JB, you know what this means, right?” Willem had asked, gesturing toward the two paintings—Willem and the Girl and Willem and Jude, Lispenard Street, II, from JB’s first show, which hung, side by side, in their living room. “As soon as the show comes down, all of these pieces are going straight to Christie’s,” and everyone had laughed, JB hardest of all, proud and delighted and relieved.

“唔，杰比，你知道這代表什么吧？”威廉當(dāng)時問，指著并排掛在他們客廳里的兩件畫作《威廉與女孩》《威廉與裘德，利斯本納街，Ⅱ》，都是杰比第一次個展的作品，“一等你的回顧展結(jié)束，這些作品就會直接送去佳士得拍賣公司?！泵總€人都大笑起來，杰比笑得最大聲，又驕傲又開心又放松。

　 Those pieces, along with Willem, London, October 8, 9:08 a.m., from “Seconds, Minutes, Hours, Days,” which he had bought, and Jude, New York, October 14, 7:02 a.m., which Willem had, along with the ones they owned from “Everyone I’ve Ever Known” and “The Narcissist’s Guide to Self-Hatred” and “Frog and Toad,” and all the drawings, the paintings, the sketches of JB’s that the two of them had been given and had kept, some since college, will be in the Whitney exhibit, as well as previously unshown work.

那兩件作品，連同“秒，分，時，日”那次個展他買下的《威廉，倫敦，十月八日，上9點08分》、威廉買的《裘德，紐約，十月十四日，上午7點02分》，還有他們在“我認(rèn)識的每個人”“自戀者的自我憎恨指南”“青蛙與蟾蜍”這些展覽購得的作品，加上他們兩個獲贈、保留的所有杰比的素描、畫作、速寫，有的還是大學(xué)時代的創(chuàng)作，外加一些沒展出過的作品，都會在惠特尼的回顧展展出。

　 There will also be a concurrent show of new paintings at JB’s gallery, and three weekends before, he had gone to JB’s studio in Greenpoint to see them. The series is called “The Golden Anniversary,” and it is a chronicle of JB’s parents’ lives, both together, before he was born, and in an imagined future, the two of them living on and on, together, into old age. In reality, JB’s mother is still alive, as are his aunts, but in these paintings, so too is JB’s father, who had actually died at the age of thirty-six. The series is just sixteen paintings, many of them smaller in scale than JB’s previous works, and as he walked through JB’s studio, looking at these scenes of domestic fantasy—his sixty-year-old father coring an apple while his mother made a sandwich; his seventy-year-old father sitting on the sofa reading the paper, while in the background, his mother’s legs can be seen descending a flight of stairs—he couldn’t help but see what his life too was and might have been. It was precisely these scenes he missed the most from his own life with Willem, the forgettable, in-between moments in which nothing seemed to be happening but whose absence was singularly unfillable.

杰比的代理畫廊同時也會推出一個新作的個展。三個星期前，他去杰比位于布魯克林綠點區(qū)的工作室看那些作品。這個系列叫作“金婚”，描繪他父母歷年的人生，從交往時期、他出生前，到想象的未來。兩個人一起生活，一起變老。現(xiàn)實中，杰比的母親和兩個阿姨都還在世，但在畫作中，杰比的父親也還活著（其實他早已在36歲時過世了）。這個系列只有十六幅作品，很多都比杰比以前的作品尺寸要小。他走在杰比的工作室里，看著這些幻想中家庭生活的場景——他60歲的父親在幫一個蘋果去核，同時他母親在做三明治；他70歲的父親坐在沙發(fā)上看報，背景中可以看到他母親的雙腿走下樓梯——他也不禁看到自己過去的人生，以及原本可能有的未來。和威廉在一起的時光中，最令他想念的，就是這類場景。這些容易忘記、容易變成空白的時刻，好像什么都沒有發(fā)生，但要是缺失了，卻格外難以填補。

　 Interspersing the portraits were still lifes of the objects that had made JB’s parents’ lives together: two pillows on a bed, both slightly depressed as if someone had dragged the back of a spoon through a bowl of clotted cream; two coffee cups, one’s edge faintly pinked with lipstick; a single picture frame containing a photograph of a teenaged JB with his father: the only appearance JB made in these paintings. And seeing these images, he once again marveled at how perfect JB’s understanding was of a life together, of his life, of how everything in his apartment—Willem’s sweatpants, still slung over the edge of the laundry hamper; Willem’s toothbrush, still waiting in the glass on the bathroom sink; Willem’s watch, its face splintered from the accident, still sitting untouched on his nightstand—had become totemic, a series of runes only he could read. The table next to Willem’s side of the bed at Lantern House had become a sort of unintentional shrine to him: there was the mug he had last drunk from, and the black-framed glasses he’d recently started wearing, and the book he was reading, still splayed, facedown, in the position he’d left it.

穿插在這些畫像間的，是一些靜物畫，描繪杰比父母共同生活中的種種對象：一張床上的兩個枕頭，兩個都微微凹陷，仿佛有人用一根湯匙的底部壓下一碗濃縮奶油；兩個咖啡杯，其中一個的邊緣被唇膏沾上模糊的粉紅色；一個相框里有一張十來歲的杰比和父親的合照，是杰比在這些畫作中唯一出現(xiàn)的一次?？吹竭@些畫面，他再度驚嘆于杰比完全了解共同生活是怎么回事，也想到自己的生活、他公寓里的一切——威廉的運動長褲依然掛在洗衣籃邊緣；威廉的牙刷依然放在浴室洗臉臺的玻璃杯里；威廉的手表，表面已經(jīng)在那次車禍中破裂，但還是放在他那一側(cè)的床頭桌上。這些都已經(jīng)圖騰化，像是一連串只有他能解讀的神秘記號。燈籠屋那邊，威廉那一側(cè)的桌子無意間已經(jīng)成為某種威廉的神龕：上頭有他最后一次喝水的馬克杯，他近年開始戴的黑框眼鏡，他當(dāng)時正在讀的書，還是打開的，面朝下，就擺在他最后留下的地方。

　 “Oh, JB,” he had sighed, and although he had wanted to say something else, he couldn’t. But JB had thanked him anyway. They were quieter around each other now, and he didn’t know if this was who JB had become or if this was who JB had become around him.

“啊，杰比?！彼麌@息，他想說些別的，卻說不出來。不過杰比還是謝謝他。現(xiàn)在他們在一起比較少講話了，他不知道是因為杰比整個人變了樣，還是因為跟他在一起的緣故。

　 Now he knocks on the museum’s doors and is let in by one of JB’s studio assistants, who is waiting for him and who tells him that JB is overseeing the installation on the top floor, but says he should start on the sixth floor and work his way up to meet him, and so he does.

這會兒他敲了敲博物館的門。杰比工作室的一名助理開門讓他進去，說杰比在頂樓監(jiān)督布展。不過那助理又說，他應(yīng)該從六樓開始看起，一路走到頂樓去找杰比。他照做了。

　 The galleries on this floor are dedicated to JB’s early works, including juvenilia; there is a whole grid of framed drawings from JB’s childhood, including a math test over which JB had drawn lovely little pencil portraits of, presumably, his classmates: eight- and nine-year-olds bent over their desks, eating candy bars, feeding birds. He had neglected to solve any of the problems, and at the top of the page was a bright red “F,” along with a note: “Dear Mrs. Marion—you see what the problem is here. Please come see me. Sincerely, Jamie Greenberg. P.S. Your son is an immense talent.” He smiles looking at this, the first time he can feel himself smiling in a long time. In a lucite cube on a stand in the middle of the room are a few objects from “The Kwotidien,” including the hair-covered hairbrush that JB had never returned to him, and he smiles again, looking at them, thinking of their weekends devoted to searching for clippings.

六樓的幾個展覽室展出的是杰比的早年作品，包括少年時代。有一整批杰比童年的裱框圖畫，有一張數(shù)學(xué)考卷，杰比用鉛筆在上頭畫了幾個可愛的人像，應(yīng)該是他的同學(xué)：八九歲的小孩低頭對著課桌，在吃巧克力棒或是喂鳥?？季砩系膯栴}杰比一題都沒寫，考卷頂端是個鮮紅色的零分，老師還在旁邊寫了字：“親愛的馬里恩太太，你看到哪里有問題了。請來跟我談。誠摯的杰米·格林伯格。又及，令郎太有才華了?！彼粗⑿ζ饋恚@是他好久以來第一次感覺自己在微笑。展覽室中央有一個罩著樹脂玻璃的平面展示柜，里面是幾件“日常”系列的作品，包括杰比始終沒有還給他的那支黏滿頭發(fā)的梳子。他再度微笑，看著這些作品，他想到他們陪杰比到處去找頭發(fā)的那些周末。

　 The rest of the floor is given over to images from “The Boys,” and he walks slowly through the rooms, looking at pictures of Malcolm, of him, of Willem. Here are the two of them in their bedroom at Lispenard Street, both of them sitting on their twin beds, staring straight into JB’s camera, Willem with a small smile; here they are again at the card table, he working on a brief, Willem reading a book. Here they are at a party. Here they are at another party. Here he is with Phaedra; here Willem is with Richard. Here is Malcolm with his sister, Malcolm with his parents. Here is Jude with Cigarette, here is Jude, After Sickness. Here is a wall with pen-and-ink sketches of these images, sketches of them. Here are the photographs that inspired the paintings. Here is the photograph of him from which Jude with Cigarette was painted: here he is—that expression on his face, that hunch of his shoulders—a stranger to himself and yet instantly recognizable to himself as well.

這層樓的其他展覽室展出的是“男孩們”系列的作品。他緩緩走過那些展覽室，看著馬爾科姆的、他的、威廉的畫像。這一幅，他和威廉在利斯本納街的臥室里，兩個人坐在各自的單人床上，看著杰比的照相機，威廉臉上一抹淡淡的微笑。下一幅是他們在派對上。再下一幅是他們在另一個派對上。接著他看到他和菲德拉；然后是威廉和理查德。再過來是馬爾科姆和他姐姐，馬爾科姆和他的父母。他還看到《拿著香煙的裘德》，還有《裘德，病后》。接下來是一整墻這些人像畫作的鋼筆畫草稿，以及啟發(fā)這些畫作的照片。有一張照片是《拿著香煙的裘德》的原照：他在里面，那臉上的表情、那駝背的雙肩——對他來說很陌生，但也一眼就認(rèn)得出是他。

　 The stairwells between the floors are densely hung with interstitial pieces, drawings and small paintings, studies and experimentations, that JB made between bodies of work. He sees the portrait JB made of him for Harold and Julia, for his adoption; he sees drawings of him in Truro, of him in Cambridge, of Harold and Julia. Here are the four of them; here are JB’s aunts and mother and grandmother; here is the Chief and Mrs. Irvine; here is Flora; here is Richard, and Ali, and the Henry Youngs, and Phaedra.

各個樓層之間的樓梯間里密密麻麻掛著杰比在各個系列之間的過渡作品，素描和小幅彩色畫作、習(xí)作和實驗性作品。他看到自己當(dāng)初被收養(yǎng)時，杰比送給哈羅德和朱麗婭的那幅畫像；他看到素描中畫著他在特魯羅、他在劍橋市，以及哈羅德和朱麗婭。還有的畫著他們四個；畫著杰比的兩個阿姨、母親和外婆；畫著酋長和歐文太太；畫著弗洛拉；畫著理查德；畫著阿里；畫著兩個亨利·楊；還有菲德拉。

　 The next floor: “Everyone I’ve Ever Known Everyone I’ve Ever Loved Everyone I’ve Ever Hated Everyone I’ve Ever Fucked”; “Seconds, Minutes, Hours, Days.” Behind him, around him, installers mill, making small adjustments with their white-gloved hands, standing back and staring at the walls. Once again he enters the stairwell. Once again he looks up, and there he sees, again and again, drawings of him: of his face, of him standing, of him in his wheelchair, of him with Willem, of him alone. These are pieces that JB had made when they weren’t speaking, when he had abandoned JB. There are drawings of other people as well, but they are mostly of him: him and Jackson. Again and again, Jackson and him, a checkerboard of the two of them. The images of him are wistful, faint, pencils and pen-and-inks and watercolors. The ones of Jackson are acrylics, thick-lined, looser and angrier. There is one drawing of him that is very small, on a postcard-size piece of paper, and when he examines it more closely, he sees that something had been written on it, and then erased: “Dear Jude,” he makes out, “please”—but there is nothing more after that word. He turns away, his breathing quick, and sees the watercolor of a camellia bush that JB had sent him when he was in the hospital, after he had tried to kill himself.

往上一層樓是“我認(rèn)識的每個人、我愛過的每個人、我恨過的每個人、我上過的每個人”“秒，分，時，日”。在他身后及周圍是徘徊來去的布展人員。戴著白手套，幫作品做一些小調(diào)整，再后退看著墻壁評估。然后他又到了樓梯間，看到了一幅又一幅他的素描像：他的臉、他站著、他坐在輪椅上、他和威廉、他獨自一人。這些作品是杰比在他們不講話那段期間畫的，那陣子他放棄了杰比。另外也有其他人的素描，但大部分都是畫他和杰克森。一件又一件，像是杰克森和他兩人構(gòu)成的棋盤。畫作中的他傷感而模糊，用鉛筆、鋼筆和水彩畫成。杰克森則是以亞克力顏料和粗筆畫成，比較松散也比較憤怒。有一張他的畫像非常小，畫在明信片大小的紙上，他更仔細(xì)觀察，發(fā)現(xiàn)上頭本來寫著字，然后用橡皮擦擦掉了“親愛的裘德”，他辨認(rèn)出來，“拜托”，但接下來就沒有其他字了。他轉(zhuǎn)身，呼吸加快，然后看著一幅山茶花樹叢的水彩畫，那是他自殺未遂住院時杰比送給他的。

　 The next floor: “The Narcissist’s Guide to Self-Hatred.” This had been JB’s least commercially successful show, and he can understand why—to look at these works, their insistent anger and self-loathing, was to be both awed and made almost unbearably uncomfortable. The Coon, one painting was called; The Buffoon; The Bojangler; The Steppin Fetchit. In each, JB, his skin shined and dark, his eyes bulging and yellowed, dances or howls or cackles, his gums awful and huge and fish-flesh pink, while in the background, Jackson and his friends emerge half formed from a gloom of Goyan browns and grays, all crowing at him, clapping their hands and pointing and laughing. The last painting in this series was called Even Monkeys Get the Blues, and it was of JB wearing a pert red fez and a shrunken red epauletted jacket, pantsless, hopping on one leg in an empty warehouse. He lingers on this floor, staring at these paintings, blinking, his throat shutting, and then slowly moves to the stairs a final time.

往上一層樓是“自戀者的自我憎恨指南”。這是杰比商業(yè)上最不成功的展覽，他明白為什么——看著這些作品，那種顯著的憤怒和自我厭惡，簡直令人敬畏又不安得難以忍受?！洞篮诶小肥瞧渲幸患髌返臉?biāo)題，還有《丑角》《懶惰蟲》《斯泰平·費奇[2]》。在每件作品中，皮膚黑亮的杰比眼睛暴凸而發(fā)黃，正在跳舞或號叫或大笑，魚肉似的粉紅色牙齦又大又丑。背景中的杰克森和他的朋友們半成形地從一片戈雅式的褐色與灰色中浮現(xiàn)，全都朝他拍著手、指指點點或大笑。這個系列的最后一件作品叫《就連猴子也懂得憂郁》，里頭的杰比戴著一頂俏皮的土耳其紅氈帽，身穿一件有吊穗肩章的緊身外套，沒穿長褲，單腳在一個空蕩的倉庫里跳。他在畫前逗留，瞪著這些畫，眨著眼睛，喉嚨發(fā)緊，這才緩緩登上了最后一層階梯。

　 Then he is on the top floor, and here there are more people, and for a while he stands to the side, watching JB talking to the curators and his gallerist, laughing and gesturing. These galleries are hung, mostly, with images from “Frog and Toad,” and he moves from each to each, not really seeing them but rather remembering the experience of viewing them for the first time, in JB’s studio, when he and Willem were new to each other, when he felt as if he was growing new body parts—a second heart, a second brain—to accommodate this excess of feeling, the wonder of his life.

他來到頂樓，這里有更多人，一時間他站在一邊，看著杰比跟策展人，還有他的代理畫廊經(jīng)理講話，大笑并比劃著。這幾個展覽室展出的大都是“青蛙與蟾蜍”系列作品，他一幅接一幅欣賞，沒有真正看進去，而是在回憶第一次看到這些畫作的情景。那是在杰比的工作室，他和威廉才剛在一起不久，當(dāng)時他感覺自己身上似乎長出了新的部分，第二顆心臟、第二個腦子，以容納這種豐沛的感情，他生命中的奇跡。

　 He is staring at one of the paintings when JB finally sees him and comes over, and he hugs JB tightly and congratulates him. “JB,” he says. “I’m so proud of you.”

他盯著其中一幅畫的時候，杰比終于看到了他，走了過來。他緊擁杰比，向他道賀。“杰比，”他說，“我真是以你為榮。”

　 “Thanks, Judy,” JB says, smiling. “I’m proud of me too, goddammit.” And then he stops smiling. “I wish they were here,” he says.

“小裘，謝謝你，”杰比微笑著說，“我也很以我自己為榮，真是要命?！比缓笏掌鹦θ荩拔艺嫦Ｍ麄円苍??！彼f。

　 He shakes his head. “I do too,” he manages to say.

他搖搖頭?！拔乙彩??！彼銖娬f。

　 For a while they are silent. Then, “Come here,” JB says, and grabs his hand and pulls him to the far side of the floor, past JB’s gallerist, who waves at him, past a final crate of framed drawings that are being unboxed, to a wall where a canvas is having its skin of bubble wrap carefully cut away from it. JB positions them before it, and when the plastic is unpeeled, he sees it is a painting of Willem.

有一會兒，兩人都不說話。之后杰比說：“來這里?！彼麪科鹚氖郑竭@層樓的另一頭，經(jīng)過了朝杰比揮手的畫廊經(jīng)理、裝著裱框畫作的最后一個條板箱，來到一面墻壁前，那里有一幅畫，工作人員正小心翼翼地把外頭包裹的氣泡布割開。杰比帶著他站在那幅畫前面，等到氣泡布被拆掉，他看到那是一幅威廉的畫像。