In case you don't live in New York, the Wicker Bar is in this sort of swanky hotel, the Seton Hotel. I used to go there quite a lot, but I don't any more. I gradually cut it out.
It's one of those places that are supposed to be very sophisticated浮华and all, and the phonies are coming in the window. They used to have these two French babes, Tina and Janine, come out and play the piano and sing about three times every night. One of them played the piano--strictly lousy--and the other one sang, and most of the songs were either pretty dirty or in French.
The one that sang, old Janine, was always whispering into the goddam microphone before she sang. She'd say, "And now we like to geeve you our impression of Vooly Voo Fransay. Eet ees the story of a leetle Fransh girl who comes to a beeg ceety, just like New York, and falls een love wees a leetle boy from Brookleen. We hope you like eet."
Then, when she was all done whispering and being cute as hell, she'd sing some dopey song, half in English and half in French, and drive all the phonies in the place mad with joy. If you sat around there long enough and heard all the phonies applauding and all, you got to hate everybody in the world, I swear you did. The bartender was a louse, too. He was a big snob. He didn't talk to you at all hardly unless you were a big shot or a celebrity or something. If you were a big shot or a celebrity or something, then he was even more nauseating. He'd go up to you and say, with this big charming smile, like he was a helluva swell guy if you knew him, "Well! How's Connecticut?" or "How's Florida?" It was a terrible place, I'm not kidding. I cut out going there entirely, gradually.
你或许不住在纽约，所以我来说给你听，维格酒吧间是在那个叫作萨敦饭店的高级旅馆里。我过去经常去，现在不去了。我慢慢地改掉了这习惯。
这是个十分浮华的场所，那班伪君子之流的假摸假式人物挤得简直都从窗口往里跳。他们一向雇着两个法国姑娘，提娜和琴妮，一个晚上出来弹钢琴歌唱三次，她们两个一个弹钢琴——弹得真是糟糕透顶——另一个唱歌，唱的不是下流歌曲就是法国歌曲。
那个唱歌的老琴妮在唱歌之前老是在扩音器里小声说一通。她会这样说：“我们现在唱一支《你要法国姑娘吗？》唱的是一个法国小姑娘来到了一个象纽约这样的大城市，爱上了一个来自布鲁克林的小伙子。我们希望你们喜欢这支歌。”
说完，她就装腔作势，唱起一支混帐歌来，一半用英文一半用法文，听得所有那些在场的假模假式男女高兴得都快疯了。你要是在那儿多坐会儿，老听着所有那些假模假式男女鼓掌什么的，你准会痛恨起世界上的每一个人来，我发誓你一定会。酒吧里那个掌柜的也下流得很。他是个势利鬼。他简直很少理睬人，除非你是个大亨或者名人或者类似的人物。可你万一真是个大亨或者名人或者类似的人物，那么他的所作所为还要更令人作呕。他会满脸堆着可爱的笑容走过来跟你说话，象煞他是个他妈的挺讨人喜欢的人物似的。“嗯！康涅狄格的情况怎样啦？”或者“佛罗里达的情况怎么样啦？”这真是个可怕的场所，我不说瞎话。我慢慢儿少去，后来压根儿不去了。
It was pretty early when I got there. I sat down at the bar--it was pretty crowded-and had a couple of Scotch and sodas before old Luce even showed up. I stood up when I ordered them so they could see how tall I was and all and not think I was a goddam minor. Then I watched the phonies for a while. Some guy next to me was snowing hell out of the babe he was with. He kept telling her she had aristocratic贵族的 hands. That killed me. The other end of the bar was full of flits同性恋的. They weren't too flitty-looking--I mean they didn't have their hair too long or anything--but you could tell they were flits anyway.
Finally old Luce showed up.
我到那儿时间还早，就在酒柜边坐下——酒吧里挤得很——在老路斯没来之前先喝两杯掺苏打水的威士忌。我要酒的时候，还特地站起来，让他们看看我的身材有多高，免得他们怀疑我是个未成年的混帐娃娃。这以后，我就观察一会儿那些假模假式的男女。我旁边的一个家伙正在用甜言蜜语一个劲儿哄骗跟他在一起的姑娘。他口口声声说她的那双手很象贵族。差点儿笑死我了。酒柜的另一头坐的全是些搞同性爱的性变态者。看他们的样子倒不太象那样的人——我是说他们的头发并不过于长，也没有其它怪相——可你总看得出他们是搞同性爱的。
最后老路斯来了。
Old Luce. What a guy. He was supposed to be my Student Adviser when I was at Whooton. The only thing he ever did, though, was give these sex talks and all, late at night when there was a bunch of guys in his room. He knew quite a bit about sex, especially perverts性变态者and all.
He was always telling us about a lot of creepy guys that go around having affairs with sheep, and guys that go around with girls' pants sewed in the lining of their hats and all. And flits and Lesbians. Old Luce knew who every flit and Lesbian in the United States was. All you had to do was mention somebody--anybody-and old Luce'd tell you if he was a flit or not. Sometimes it was hard to believe, the people he said were flits and Lesbians and all, movie actors and like that. Some of the ones he said were flits were even married, for God's sake. You'd keep saying to him, "You mean Joe Blow's a flit? Joe Blow? That big, tough guy that plays gangsters and cowboys all the time?" Old Luce'd say, "Certainly." He was always saying "Certainly." He said it didn't matter if a guy was married or not. He said half the married guys in the world were flits and didn't even know it. He said you could turn into one practically overnight, if you had all the traits 特性，特质 and all. He used to scare the hell out of us. I kept waiting to turn into a flit or something. The funny thing about old Luce, I used to think he was sort of flitty himself, in a way. He was always saying, "Try this for size," and then he'd goose the hell out of you while you were going down the corridor.
And whenever he went to the can, he always left the goddam door open and talked to you while you were brushing your teeth or something.
That stuff's sort of flitty. It really is. I've known quite a few real flits, at schools and all, and they're always doing stuff like that, and that's why I always had my doubts about old Luce. He was a pretty intelligent guy, though. He really was.
老路斯，了不起的家伙。我在胡敦念书的时候，他本应该是我的辅导员。可他只做一件事，就是在夜深人静的时候在他的房间里纠集一帮人大谈其性问题。他对性问题颇有研究，特别是性变态者之类。
他老讲给我们听有些可怕的家伙怎样胡来，以及怎样把女人的裤子当作衬里缝在自己的帽子上。还有搞同性爱的男男女女。老路斯知道在美国搞同性爱的每一个男女。只要你提出一个人的名字——任何一个人的名字——老路斯就会告诉你他是不是搞同性爱的。有时候你简直很难相信，他把那些电影明星之流的男女都说成是搞同性爱的。有几个据他说是搞同性爱的男人甚至都结了婚，我的老天爷。你这么问他：“你说乔.勃罗是个搞同性爱的？乔.勃罗？那个老在电影里演流氓和牛仔的又魁伟又神气的家伙？”老路斯就会说：“当然啦。”他老是说“当然啦”。他说在这件事上结婚不结婚无关紧要。他说世界上有一半结了婚的男子都是搞同性爱的，可他们自己不知道。他还说只要你有那迹象，简直一夜之间就可以变成一个搞同性爱的。他常常把我们吓得魂不附体。我就一直等着自己突然变成一个搞同性爱的。说起老路斯来，有一点倒是很好笑，我心里老怀疑他本人就搞同性爱。
他老是说，“这件事你可以实地干一下拭试。”你走到走廊上的时候，他还会在你后面拼命呵痒。
……
这类玩艺儿就有搞同性爱的迹象。一点不假。我在学校里认识一些搞同性爱的家伙，他们就老是搞这一套玩艺儿，所以我不免要疑心起老路斯来。不过他为人的确很聪明。一点儿不假。
He never said hello or anything when he met you. The first thing he said when he sat down was that he could only stay a couple of minutes. He said he had a date. Then he ordered a dry Martini. He told the bartender to make it very dry, and no olive.
他跟你见面的时候从来不跟你打招呼。他来了以后刚一坐下，头一句话就说他只能跟我一起呆几分钟。他说约好了一个女朋友。随后他要了不带甜味的马提尼鸡尾酒。他跟掌柜的说要一点都不带甜味，也不要橄榄。
"Hey, I got a flit for you," I told him. "At the end of the bar. Don't look now. I been saving him for ya."
"Very funny," he said. "Same old Caulfield. When are you going to grow up?"
I bored him a lot. I really did. He amused me, though. He was one of those guys that sort of amuse me a lot.
"How's your sex life?" I asked him. He hated you to ask him stuff like that.
"Relax," he said. "Just sit back and relax, for Chrissake."
"I'm relaxed," I said. "How's Columbia? Ya like it?"
"Certainly I like it. If I didn't like it I wouldn't have gone there," he said. He could be pretty boring himself sometimes.
"What're you majoring in?" I asked him. "Perverts?" I was only horsing around.
"What're you trying to be--funny?"
"No. I'm only kidding," I said. "Listen, hey, Luce. You're one of these intellectual智力的；聪明的；理智的 guys. I need your advice. I'm in a terrific--"
He let out this big groan呻吟；叹息 on me. "Listen, Caulfield. If you want to sit here and have a quiet, peaceful drink and a quiet, peaceful conver--”
嗨，我给你找到了个搞同性爱的，”我对他说，“就坐在酒柜那头。现在先别看。我是特地保留着让你好好欣赏的。”
滑稽极了，”他说。“还是同一个老考尔菲德。你什么时候才能长大？”
我惹得他十分腻烦。我真的惹得他十分腻烦。
不过他也引得我很开心。他这种人的确能引得我十分开心。
“你的性生活怎样？”我问他。他最恨你问他这一类问题。
“别着急，”他说。“你先靠在椅子上歇一会儿，老天爷。”
“我早就歇过来了，”我说。“哥伦比亚怎样？你喜欢吗？”
“我当然喜欢。我要是不喜欢，就不会进去，”他说。他这人有时候也很能让人腻烦。
“你主修什么？”我问他。“性变态吗？”我是成心逗他玩。
“你这算什么——滑稽？”
“不，我跟你逗着玩呢，”我说。“听着，嗨，路斯。你是个聪明人。我需要你的忠告。我目前遇到了可怕的——”
他冲着我重重地呻唤了一声。“听着，考尔菲德。你要是能坐在这儿好好喝会儿酒，好好谈会儿——”
"All right, all right," I said. "Relax." You could tell he didn't feel like discussing anything serious with me. That's the trouble with these intellectual guys. They never want to discuss anything serious unless they feel like it. So all I did was, I started discussing topics in general with him. "No kidding, how's your sex life?" I asked him. "You still going around with that same babe you used to at Whooton? The one with the terrffic--"
"Good God, no," he said.
"How come? What happened to her?"
"I haven't the faintest idea. For all I know, since you ask, she's probably the Whore of New Hampshire by this time."
"That isn't nice. If she was decent enough to let you get sexy with her all the time, you at least shouldn't talk about her that way."
“好吧，好吧，”我说。“别着急。”你看得出他 不想跟我讨论任何严肃的问题。那般聪明人就是这个毛病。他们从来不肯跟你讨论任何严肃的问题，除非是他们自己想谈。因此我就只跟他讨论些一般性问题。“不跟你开玩笑，你的性生活怎样？”
我问他。“你是不是仍旧跟你在胡敦念书时候的那个姑娘在一起？那个极可爱的——”“老天爷，不啦，”他说。
“怎么啦？她出了什么事啦？”
“我一点儿也不知道。你既然问起，我想她这会儿大概在新汉普夏当婊子啦。”
“这样说不好。要是她过去待你挺不错，老让你跟她发生最亲密的关系，你至少不应该这么说她。”
"Oh, God!" old Luce said. "Is this going to be a typical Caulfield conversation? I want to know right now."
"No," I said, "but it isn't nice anyway. If she was decent and nice enough to let you--"
"Must we pursue this horrible trend of thought?"
I didn't say anything. I was sort of afraid he'd get up and leave on me if I didn't shut up. So all I did was, I ordered another drink. I felt like getting stinking drunk.
"Who're you going around with now?" I asked him. "You feel like telling me?"
"Nobody you know."
"Yeah, but who? I might know her."
"Girl lives in the Village. Sculptress. If you must know."
"Yeah? No kidding? How old is she?" "I've never asked her, for God's sake." "Well, around how old?"
"I should imagine she's in her late thirties," old Luce said.
"In her late thirties? Yeah? You like that?" I asked him. "You like 'em that old?" The reason I was asking was because he really knew quite a bit about sex and all. He was one of the few guys I knew that did. He lost his virginity when he was only fourteen, in Nantucket. He really did.
"I like a mature person, if that's what you mean. Certainly."
"You do? Why? No kidding, they better for sex and all?"
“哦，天哪！”老路斯说。“难道这是一次标准的考尔菲德谈话吗？我马上要知道。”
“不，”我说，“不过你这样说总不太好。要是她过去待你挺不错，老让你——”
“难道我们非照着这个可怕的题目谈下去不成？”
我不再说下去了。我有点儿怕他站起来离开我，要是我不住嘴的话。所以我当时什么话也没说，只是又要了一杯酒，我很想喝个烂醉。
“你现在跟谁在一起？”我问他。“你愿意告诉我吗？”
“你不认识。”
“是吗，不过到底是谁呢？我也许认得她。”
“一个位在格林威治村的姑娘。女雕刻家。你要是非知道不可的话。”
“是吗？不开玩笑？她多大啦？”
“我从来没问过她，老天爷。”
“嗯，大概有多大啦？”
“我想她都快四十了，”老路斯说。
“都快四十了？嗯？你喜欢？”我问他。“你喜欢这么大年纪的女人？”我之所以这样问他，是因为他的性知识的确非常丰富。我认识的真正有性知识的人并不多，可他确是其中的一个。他早在十四岁的时候就破了身，在南塔基特。一点不假。
“我喜欢成熟的女人，要是你问的是这个意思的话。当然啦。”
“你喜欢？为什么？不开玩笑，她们在性方面是不是更好一些？”
"Listen. Let's get one thing straight. I refuse to answer any typical Caulfield questions tonight. When in hell are you going to grow up?"
I didn't say anything for a while. I let it drop for a while. Then old Luce ordered another Martini and told the bartender to make it a lot dryer.
"Listen. How long you been going around with her, this sculpture babe?" I asked him. I was really interested. "Did you know her when you were at Whooton?"
"Hardly. She just arrived in this country a few months ago."
"She did? Where's she from?"
"She happens to be from Shanghai."
"No kidding! She Chinese, for Chrissake?"
"Obviously."
"No kidding! Do you like that? Her being Chinese?"
"Obviously."
"Why? I'd be interested to know--I really would."
"I simply happen to find Eastern philosophy more satisfactory than Western. Since you ask."
“听着。咱们把话说清楚。今天晚上我拒绝回答任何一个标准的考尔菲德问题。你他妈的到底什么时候才能长大？”
我有一会儿没再说话。我让我们的谈话中断了一会儿。接着老路斯又要了杯马提尼，还叫掌柜的再去掉点儿甜味。
“听着，你跟她在一起有多久啦，这个会雕刻的姑娘？”我问他。我真是感兴趣极了。“你在胡敦的时候认识她吗？”
“不认识。她到这个国家还只几个月哩。”
“真的吗？她是打哪儿来的？”
“好象是打上海来的。”
“别开玩笑！她是中国人，老天爷？”
“当然。”
“别开玩笑！你喜欢吗？象她这样的中国女人？”
“当然。”
“为什么？我很想知道——我的确想知道。”
“我只是偶然发现东方哲学比西方哲学更有道理。你既然问了。”
"You do? Wuddaya mean 'philosophy'? Ya mean sex and all? You mean it's better in China? That what you mean?"
"Not necessarily in China, for God's sake. The East I said. Must we go on with this inane 空洞的，空虚的；愚蠢的 conversation?"
“真的吗？你是说‘哲学’？你的意思是不是包括性一类问题？你是说中国的更好？你是这个意思吗？”
“不一定是中国，老天爷。我刚才说的东方。咱们难道非这么疯疯癫癫谈下去不可吗？”
"Listen, I'm serious," I said. "No kidding. Why's it better in the East?"
"It's too involved to go into, for God's sake," old Luce said. "They simply happen to regard sex as both a physical and a spiritual experience. If you think I'm--"
"So do I! So do I regard it as a wuddayacallit--a physical and spiritual experience and all. I really do. But it depends on who the hell I'm doing it with. If I'm doing it with somebody I don't even--"
"Not so loud, for God's sake, Caulfield. If you can't manage to keep your voice down, let's drop the whole--"
"All right, but listen," I said. I was getting excited and I was talking a little too loud. Sometimes I talk a little loud when I get excited. "This is what I mean, though," I said. "I know it's supposed to be physical and spiritual, and artistic and all. But what I mean is, you can't do it with everybody--every girl you neck with and all--and make it come out that way. Can you?"
"Let's drop it," old Luce said. "Do you mind?"
"All right, but listen. Take you and this Chinese babe. What's so good about you two?"
"Drop it, I said."
“听着，我是跟你谈正经呢，”我说。“不开玩笑。为什么东方的更好？”
“说来话长，老天爷，”老路斯说。“他们只是把性关系看成是肉体和精神的双重关系。你要是以为我——”
“我也一样！我也把它看成——你怎么说的——是肉体和精神的关系。我的确是这样看的。可是关键在于跟我发生关系的是他妈的什么人。要是跟我发生关系的是那种我甚至都不——”“
别这么大声，老天爷，考尔菲德。你要是不能把你的声音放低些，那我们干脆就别——”
“好吧，可是听我说，”我说。我越说越兴奋，声音就未免太大了一点。有时候我心里一兴奋，讲话的声音就大了。“可我说的是这个意思，”我说。“我知道那种关系应该是肉体和精神的，而且也应该是艺术的。可我的意思是，你不能跟人人都这样——跟每一个和你搂搂抱抱的姑娘——跟她们全都来这一手。你说对吗？”
“咱们别谈了吧，”老路斯说。“好不好？”
“好吧，可是听我说。就拿你和那个中国女人来说，你们俩的关系好在什么地方？”
“别谈了，我已经说过啦。”
I was getting a little too personal. I realize that. But that was one of the annoying things about Luce. When we were at Whooton, he'd make you describe the most personal stuff that happened to you, but if you started asking him questions about himself, he got sore. These intellectual guys don't like to have an intellectual conversation with you unless they're running the whole thing. They always want you to shut up when they shut up, and go back to your room when they go back to their room. When I was at Whooton old Luce used to hate it--you really could tell he did--when after he was finished giving his sex talk to a bunch of us in his room we stuck around and chewed the fat by ourselves for a while. I mean the other guys and myself. In somebody else's room. Old Luce hated that. He always wanted everybody to go back to their own room and shut up when he was finished being the big shot. The thing he was afraid of, he was afraid somebody'd say something smarter than he had. He really amused me.
"Maybe I'll go to China. My sex life is lousy," I said.
"Naturally. Your mind is immature."
"It is. It really is. I know it," I said. "You know what the trouble with me is? I can never get really sexy--I mean really sexy--with a girl I don't like a lot. I mean I have to like her a lot. If I don't, I sort of lose my goddam desire for her and all. Boy, it really screws up my sex life something awful. My sex life stinks."
"Naturally it does, for God's sake. I told you the last time I saw you what you need."
"You mean to go to a psychoanalyst and all?" I said. That's what he'd told me I ought to do. His father was a psychoanalyst and all.
"It's up to you, for God's sake. It's none of my goddam business what you do with your life."
I didn't say anything for a while. I was thinking.
我问的都有点儿涉及私人隐事了。我明白这一点。可老路斯就是这些地方让你觉得不痛快。我在胡敦的时候，他会叫你把你自己最最隐秘的事情形容给他听，可你只要一问起有关他自己的事情，他就会生起气来。这般聪明人就是这样，如果不是他们自己在发号施令，就不高兴跟你进行一场有意思的谈话。他们自己一住嘴，也就要你住嘴，他们一回到他们自己的房间，也就要你回到你自己的房间。我在胡敦的时候，老路斯一向痛恨这样的事——那就是他在他自己的房间里向我们一伙人谈完性问题后，我们还聚集在一起继续聊一会儿天。我是说另外那些家伙跟我自己。在别人的房间里。老路斯痛恨这类事情。他只喜欢自己一个人当大亨，等他把话说完，就希望每个人都回到自己的房间里不再言语。他最害怕的，就是怕有人说出来的话比他高明。他的确引得我很开心。
“我也许要到中国去。我的性生活糟糕得很呢，”我说。
“自然啦，你的头脑还没成熟。”
“不错。一点不错。我自己也知道，”我说。
“你知道我的毛病在哪儿？跟一个我并不太喜欢的姑娘在一起，我始终没有真正的性欲——我是说真正的性欲。我是说我得先喜欢她。要是不喜欢，我简直对她连一点点混帐的欲望都没有。嘿，我的性生活真是糟糕得可怕，我的性生活真是一塌糊涂。”
“这是最自然不过的啦，老天爷。我上次跟你见面的时候就跟你说了，你该怎么办。”
“你是说去找精神分析家？”我说。他上次告诉我该做的是这个。他父亲就是个精神分析家。
“那完全由你自己决定，老天爷。你怎样处理你自己的私生活，那完全不是我他妈的事儿。”
我一时没吭声，我在思索。
"Supposing I went to your father and had him psychoanalyze me and all," I said.
"What would he do to me? I mean what would he do to me?"
"He wouldn't do a goddam thing to you. He'd simply talk to you, and you'd talk to him, for God's sake. For one thing, he'd help you to recognize认出，识别 the patterns模式 of your mind."
"The what?"
"The patterns of your mind. Your mind runs in-- Listen. I'm not giving an elementary/ˌelɪˈmentri/ 基本的；初级的 course in psychoanalysis. If you're interested, call him up and make an appointment. If you're not, don't. I couldn't care less, frankly."
I put my hand on his shoulder. Boy, he amused me. "You're a real friendly bastard," I told him. "You know that?"
He was looking at his wrist手腕 watch. "I have to tear," he said, and stood up. "Nice seeing you." He got the bartender and told him to bring him his check.
"Hey," I said, just before he beat it. "Did your father ever psychoanalyze you?"
“我要是去找你父亲用精神分析法治疗，”我说。
“他会拿我怎么办呢？我是说他会拿我怎么办呢？”
“他不会拿你他妈的怎么办。他只是跟你谈话，你也跟他谈话，老天爷。有一点他会帮你做到，他会让你认识自己的思想方式。”
“我自己的什么？”
“你自己的思想方式。你的思想按照——听着。我不是在教精神分析学的基础课。你要是有兴趣，打电话跟他约个时间。要是没有兴趣，就别打电话。我一点也不在乎，老实说。”
我把一只手搭在他的肩上。嘿，他真让我开心。“你真是个够朋友的杂种，”我对他说。“你知道吗？”
他正在看手表。“我得定了，”他说着，站了起来。“见了你真高兴。”他叫来了掌柜的，要他开帐单。
“嗨，”我在他离开之前说。“你父亲对你作过精神分析没有？”
"Me? Why do you ask?"
"No reason. Did he, though? Has he?"
"Not exactly. He's helped me to adjust myself to a certain extent /ɪkˈstent/ 程度 , but an extensive /ɪkˈstensɪv/广泛的；大量的 analysis hasn't been necessary. Why do you ask?"
"No reason. I was just wondering."
"Well. Take it easy," he said. He was leaving his tip and all and he was starting to go.
"Have just one more drink," I told him. "Please. I'm lonesome as hell. No kidding."
He said he couldn't do it, though. He said he was late now, and then he left. Old Luce. He was strictly a pain in the ass, but he certainly had a good vocabulary. He had the largest vocabulary of any boy at Whooton when I was there. They gave us a test.
“我？你问这干什么？”
“没什么。他作了没有？有没有？”
“说不上分析。他帮助我纠正某些地方，可是没必要作一次全面的精神分析。你问这于什么？”
“没什么。只是一时想起。”
“呃。别为这种事伤脑筋，”他说。他把小帐留下，准备走了。
“再喝一杯吧。”我跟他说。“劳驾啦。我寂寞得要命。不开玩笑。”
他说没法再喝一杯。他说他已经迟了，说完他就走了。
老路斯。他确实非常讨人厌，可他的语汇确实丰富。我在胡敦的时候，全校学生就数他的语汇最丰富。他们测验过我们一次。
