毫无准备的旅行，走得最远

一场说走就走的自我探索之旅...




一场说走就走的自我探索之旅



最牛英文书单NO. 35

书　　名：The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry

作　　者：【英】Rachel Joyce

译　　者：黄妙瑜

豆瓣评分：8.1

朗  读 者：【英】Jim Broadbent温馨提示：点击播放，再次点击停止！下载高音质版本，请点击“阅读原文”前往“网易云音乐”





简介：

这是个独自徒步的故事，不是旅行，不是“朝圣”，没有爱情，也不为励谁的志(等着喝鸡汤的都散散吧)。

Harold Fry是最标准的人生输家：他在酿酒厂干了四十年后默默退休，严重缺乏自信和社交能力，无敌亦无友，他跟妻子Maureen住在英国的乡间，生活平静，但夫妻关系疏离。一天早晨，他收到一封信，来自于一位二十年未见的老友Queenie，她在信中说自己患了癌症，写信跟他告别。Harold写了回信，在寄出的路上，他一边走一边经由Queenie回想到了自己的一生，他经过了一个又一个邮筒，渐渐越走越远。终于，他用了最不专业的户外设备（毕竟是说走就走的旅行）从英国最西南一路走到了最东北，横跨整个英格兰。87天，627英里，他经历了什么呢？

蕾秋·乔伊斯，英国作家，写了二十年的广播剧本，拿过无数剧本奖。本书是她的处女作，入围2012年“布克奖(当代英语小说界的最高奖项)”。

这个故事写得文采斐然，文字十分动人；在情节方面，一直带着这几个关键的问题往前推进，十分巧妙：

 1. Harold和Maureen为何夫妻疏离到如此程度？

 2. 儿子David到底发生了什么？  

 3. Harold和Queenie之间到底发生过什么？  

 4. 一路上Harold遇到了什么人？发生了什么事？有了什么样的改变？  

 5. 见到Queenie的场景是什么样的？  

还有，作为读者被带入故事的你，是否曾打算过这样的一次千里跋涉的步行？

Harold Fry was a tall man who moved through life with a stoop, as if expecting a low beam, or a screwed-up paper missile, to appear out of nowhere.

哈罗德·弗莱是个高大的男人，却一辈子弯着腰生活，像是随时防备着前方会突然出现一道低梁，或是别人投偏了的纸飞机似的。

The day he was born his mother had looked at the bundle in her arms, and felt appalled. She was young, with a peony-bud mouth and a husband who had seemed a good idea before the war and a bad one after it. A child was the last thing she wanted or needed.

他出生那天，母亲看着怀里的襁褓，完全不知所措。她还年轻，有一张樱桃小嘴，早早就嫁了人，那人战前是个好丈夫，参军回来后却不是那么回事了。一个嗷嗷待哺的婴儿是她当时最不想承受的负担。

The boy learned quickly that the best way to get along in life was to keep a low profile; to appear absent even when present. He played with neighbours’ children, or at least he watched them from the edges. At school he avoided attention to the point of appearing stupid.

哈罗德小小年纪就学会了安身立命之道—保持低调，做个隐形人。他也和邻居的孩子们玩耍，至少是站在边上看着他们玩。读书时他努力融入背景，成了别人眼中不起眼的笨小孩。

Leaving home when he was sixteen, he had set out on his own, until one night he caught Maureen’s eye across a dance hall and fell wildly in love. It was the brewery that had brought the newly wed couple to Kingsbridge.

十六岁那年离家闯天下，他一直是一个人，直到有天晚上在舞厅里邂逅了莫琳，惊鸿一瞥，不可自拔。是酿酒厂把这对新婚夫妻带到了金斯布里奇。

Harold had done the same job as a sales rep for forty-five years. Keeping himself apart, he worked modestly and efficiently, without seeking either promotion or attention. Other chaps travelled and accepted jobs in senior management, but Harold had not wanted either. He made neither friends nor enemies.

他的工作是销售代表，一做就是四十五年，勤恳谦逊，独善其身，从来没盘算过升职加薪，独占鳌头。其他人或四处旅行，或升职加薪，哈罗德从来没有这些念头。他既无朋友，也无敌人。

At his request, there was no farewell party for his retirement. And even though one of the girls in admin had organized a quick whip-round, few of the sales team knew much about him. Someone said they’d heard once that Harold had a story, but didn’t know what it was.

退休时如他所愿，连告别会也没有举行。虽然行政部的一个小姑娘还是把销售部的人聚集起来说了几句话，但实在也没几个人和哈罗德熟稔的。有人不知从哪听说哈罗德是个有故事的人，不过也没人知道那个故事到底是什么。

He finished work on a Friday, and returned home with no more to show for his lifetime’s employment than a fully illustrated Motorist’s Guide to Great Britain and a voucher for Threshers.

某个周五他上完最后一天班就直接回家了，除了一本彩图大不列颠摩托旅游指南和一张买酒优惠券，再没有别的东西可以显示他在酿酒厂服务了一生。

The book had been placed in the best room, along with all the other things that no one looked at. The voucher remained in its envelope. Harold was teetotal.

书被他放进了最好的房间，和其他没人愿意多看一眼的东西摆在一起。优惠券依然封在信封里—哈罗德是滴酒不沾的。

Gnawing hunger woke him with a start. The mattress had both firmed up and moved overnight, and an unfamiliar rod of light fell across the carpet. What had Maureen done with the bedroom, that its windows were on the wrong side? What had she done with the walls, that they were lightly sprigged with flowers?

从睡梦中饿醒，哈罗德觉得床垫硬邦邦的，位置也不一样了。地毯上投下一道陌生的光。莫琳做了什么，怎么卧室的窗户到那头去了？什么时候换了小碎花的墙纸？

It was then that he remembered; he was in a hotel just north of Loddiswell. He was walking to Berwick because Queenie Hennessy must not die.

这时他才想起自己是在洛迪斯韦以北的一个小旅店里。他要走路去贝里克郡，因为奎妮·轩尼斯不能死。

Harold would have been the first to admit that there were elements to his plan that were not finely tuned. He had no walking boots or compass, let alone a map or change of clothes.

哈罗德自己也承认有些地方计划得不够周详。他没有走远路的鞋子，没有指南针，更没有地图和换洗的衣服。

The least planned part of the journey, however, was the journey itself. He hadn’t known he was going to walk until he started. Never mind the finely tuned elements; there was no plan.

不过，整件事考虑得最少的就是旅途本身。本来他就是走起来之后才意识到自己要做什么，别说细枝末节了，就连大致的计划都没有。

He knew the Devon roads well enough, and after that he would simply head north.

德文郡的路他还知道一点，但出去之后呢？反正一直往北走就是了。

After the phone call to the hospice, he had followed the rising and turning of the B3196. Clear in his direction, he had passed fields, houses, trees, the bridge over the River Avon, and endless traffic had passed him.

给疗养院打完电话，他继续顺着B3196国道往前走。高高低低，兜兜转转，他只是跟着心里明确的方向，走过农田、房屋、树木，穿过埃文河上的小桥，不知道与多少车辆擦身而过。

None of these made any real impression, except as one thing less between himself and Berwick. He had taken regular breaks to calm his breathing. Several times he had to adjust his yachting shoes and mop his head.

所有这些东西对他来说都无足轻重，只是他和贝里克郡之间的距离而已。每走一段时间，他就会停下来喘口气，擦擦汗，整整脚上的帆船鞋。



If he went home now, if he even consulted a map, he knew he would never go to Berwick. He washed quickly, dressed in his shirt and tie, and then he followed the smell of bacon.

他知道如果现在回家，哪怕只是找出地图查看一下，就永远不可能成行。所以他快速洗漱了一下，穿上衬衣系上领带，就顺着早餐培根的香味出门了。

Harold hovered outside the breakfast lounge, hoping it might be empty. He and Maureen could pass hours without saying a word, but her presence was like a wall that you expected to be there, even if you didn’t often look at it.

哈罗德在餐厅门外徘徊，希望里面空无一人。他和莫琳可以连续几个小时不说话，但她的存在就像一面墙一样，即使不看，你也知道她一直在那儿。

Harold took hold of the doorknob. It shamed him that after all those years at the brewery, he was still shy about a roomful of strangers.

终于他伸手握住门把—在酿酒厂做了这么多年还是害怕面对一屋子陌生人，他真为自己汗颜。

‘Tea? Coffee?’ she said.

“要茶还是咖啡？”她问。

‘Yes, please.’

“好的，谢谢。”

‘Both?’ said the waitress. She gave him a patient look. Now he had three things to worry about: that even if she couldn’t smell him, or remember about the walking part, she still might think him senile.

“两样都要吗？”女服务生问道，她非常耐心地看着他。现在他又多了一样东西要担忧：即使她没有闻到他身上的味道，即使她已经不记得他昨晚说的话，她也可能觉得他已经很老了。

‘Tea would be very kind,’ said Harold.

“来一杯茶就好了。”哈罗德说。

The waitress reappeared with a teapot and milk. He let her pour.

女服务生再次出现，手里拿着茶壶和牛奶。他让她倒了杯茶。

‘At least you have a nice day for it,’ she said.

“这个天气，出行倒是正好。”她说。

So she did remember. He took a sip of tea but it scalded his mouth.

她果然记得。哈罗德呷一口茶，烫到了嘴。

The waitress said, ‘If we don’t go mad once in a while, there’s no hope.’ She briefly patted his shoulder, and at last she retreated through the forbidden swing doors.

女服务生说：“如果我们不偶尔疯狂一下，日子就没什么盼头了。”她轻轻拍一下他的肩，又回到那扇禁止闯入的弹簧门后面。

‘I do hope you don’t mind my asking,’ piped up one of the old ladies, turning to catch his eye. ‘My friend and I have been wondering what it is you are going to do.’

“真的希望您不介意我问一句，” 一位上了年纪的女士大声问道，盯着他的眼睛，“我跟我朋友在想，您到底有何打算呢？”

‘I am walking,’ he said. ‘I am walking to Berwick-upon-Tweed.’

“我要走路，” 他说，“走路去特威德河畔的贝里克郡。”

‘Berwick-upon-Tweed ?’ said the tall lady.

“特威德河畔的贝里克郡？” 那位身材很高的女士说。

‘That must be about five hundred miles,’ said her companion.

“离这儿怎么也有五百英里吧？” 她的女伴说道。

Harold had no idea. He had not yet dared to work it out. ‘Yes,’ he agreed, ‘Although it’s probably more if you are hoping to avoid the M5.’ He reached for his teacup and failed to pick it up.

哈罗德完全不清楚。他还不敢去弄清楚这个问题。“是吧，”他说，“但如果要绕过M5号高速的话，可能还不止。”他伸手去拿茶杯，却没举起来。



‘Have you been training for long?’ said the tall lady.

“您训练很久了吗？” 高个子女士说。

‘I’m not a walker. It’s more a spur of the moment decision. A thing I must do for someone else. She has cancer.’

“我不是什么徒步旅行者。这个决定有点突然。我是为了别人才这么做的，她得了癌症。”

‘Do you mean a religious walk?’ said the plump lady helpfully. ‘A pilgrimage?’

“你是说带宗教意义的徒步吗？” 身材丰满的那位女士帮他总结，“朝圣？”

She turned to her friend, who quietly began to sing ‘He Who Would Valiant Be’. Her voice rose, pure and certain, while her slim face pinkened.

她转头看着她的朋友，她的朋友轻轻地唱起《他就像武士一样英勇》【注：一首有关朝圣的著名圣歌】。她的声音渐渐升高，纯洁、笃定，她瘦削的脸也红润起来。

Again, Harold wasn’t sure if it was for the benefit of the room in general or her friend; but it seemed rude to interrupt. She fell silent and smiled. Harold smiled too, but this was because he had no idea what to say next.

哈罗德又一次犹豫起来，这是唱给所有人听的，还是唱给她女伴听的呢？不过反正打扰这歌声应该是不妥的。女士唱完后又沉默下来，脸上带着微笑。哈罗德也笑了，但这是因为他完全不知道接下来该说什么。

‘So she knows you’re walking?’ said the family man in the far corner. He wore a short-sleeved Hawaiian shirt and his arms and chest sprouted curls of dark hair.

“那么说，她知道你已经走着呢？”远处墙角里的居家男说。他穿着一件短袖的夏威夷衬衫，卷曲的深色体毛从胳膊和胸膛里钻出来。

He leaned back expansively, rocking on the back legs of his chair, the way Maureen used to reprimand David for doing. You could feel his doubt all the way across the breakfast lounge.

他向后倚了回去，动作幅度很大，在仅有后腿着地的椅子上晃着。以前如果大卫这么坐椅子的话，莫琳总是严词喝止他。隔着整个早餐厅，你都能感觉到他的质疑扑面而来。

‘I left a telephone message. I also sent a letter.’

“我在电话里留了一个口讯，还寄了一封信。”

‘That’s all?’

“就这样？”

‘There wasn’t much time for anything else.’

“也没有时间做别的了。”

The businessman pinned Harold with his cynical expression. It was clear he also saw straight through him.

生意人用他那讽刺的眼神盯着哈罗德，很明显已经把他看穿了。

‘There were two young men who set out from India,’ said the plump woman.

“有两个从印度赶来的年轻人”，那位丰满的女士说。

‘It was a peace march in 1968. They went to the four nuclear corners of the world. They took tea and asked the heads of state that if ever they were on the verge of pressing the red button, they should brew a pot first and reflect.’ Her friend nodded her head brightly.

“那是1968年的和平游行。他们聚集在四个有核力量的国家，呼吁他们的国家元首在按下红色按钮那一刻应该先停下来，喝杯茶，再三思一下。”她的同伴欢快地点头附和。

He wished no one had mentioned religion. He didn’t object to other people believing in God, but it was like being in a place where everyone knew a set of rules and he didn’t.

他真希望没人提起过宗教这个话题。他并不反对别人信奉上帝，但对他来讲，宗教信仰就像是一个和他格格不入的世界，里面所有人都有一套相同的宗旨规则，唯独他没有。

After all he had tried it once, and found no relief. And now the two kind ladies were talking about Buddhists and world peace and he was nothing to do with those things. He was a retired man who had set out with a letter.

毕竟，他也曾有过需要信仰的时候，但宗教并没有帮到他什么。而现在，这两位好心的女士却在说什么佛教徒、世界和平，这其实跟他一点关系也没有。他不过是个退休老人，收到了一封信就上路了，如此而已。

He said, ‘A long time ago my friend and I worked together. It was my job to check the pubs were running smoothly. She was in the financial department. Sometimes we visited them together, and I gave her a lift.’

他开口了：“很久以前，我和这位朋友在同一家酿酒厂工作，我的职责是确保那些小酒馆经营得当，她在财务部。有时候我们都要去酒馆办事，我就顺带捎她一程。”

His heart was pounding so fast that he felt unwell. ‘She did something for me and now she is dying. I don’t want her to die. I want her to keep living.’

他觉得心跳得越来越快，他有点难受。“她曾经帮过我一个忙，现在她快死了，我不想让她死掉，我想她继续活下去。”

The nudity of his words took him by surprise, as if it was Harold himself who was wearing no clothes. He looked down at his lap, and the room fell once more into silence.

这番赤裸裸的坦白把他自己吓到了，好像他本人自己脱光了衣服。他低下头看着膝头，餐厅又一次陷入沉默。

Harold was an old man. Not a walker, let alone a pilgrim. Who was he hoping to fool? He had spent his adult life sitting in confined spaces. His skin stretched like a million tessellations over tendons and bones.

哈罗德已经是个老人家了，别说是朝圣者了，他平时连路都不多走几步，还能骗谁呢？他一生都是坐在小小的办公间里度过的，松弛的皮肤皱巴巴地挂在筋骨上。

He thought of all the miles between himself and Queenie, and Maureen’s reminder that the furthest he had ever walked was to the car.

想想自己和奎妮之间路途迢迢，又想起莫琳说的他走过的最远距离不过是从家门口到车里。

He thought too of the Hawaiian shirt laughing, and the businessman’s scepticism. They were right. He didn’t know the first thing about exercise, or Ordnance Survey maps, or even the open land. He should pay his bill and take the bus home.

还有夏威夷衬衫男的讪笑、生意人的怀疑。他们是对的。他对运动、对地图、对郊外，都一窍不通。他应该乖乖拿出零钱坐公车回家。

The pewter sea lay behind, while ahead of him was all the land that led to Berwick, where once again there would be sea. He had started; and in doing so Harold could already see the end.

泛着银光的大海在身后铺展开来，眼前是通向贝里克郡的康庄大道与另一片海洋。旅途终于开始了，就从这一步开始，他的目的地历历在望。

书单推荐人：萌叔（Sean）

萌叔（Sean）是电台节目《英语怎么说》的主创&男主播；作为岛主，找到了一片文艺与逗逼之间的荒地，正在开垦中，命名为：“麦格兰岛”。小麦的麦，格陵兰岛的格兰岛，麦格兰岛，欢迎上岛。

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