2010年 07月 14日
Paul Auster, "The Brooklyn Follies" (1)
荻原魚雷さんの『活字と自活』(本の雑誌社)をアマゾンで注文した。日曜日頃に届くらしい。書肆紅屋さんのブログには本の雑誌社のHPに載っている「ちょい読み」コーナーがリンクされていたので、そちらで『活字と自活』をちょい読みする。『古本暮らし』を読んだときもそうだったけど、癒されます。
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読書の方は、ずっと積ん読にしてあったPaul Austerの"The Brooklyn Follies" (Faber and Faber, 2005) をゆるーりと読み始めた。その文章はどこを取っても明晰で間然するところがない。オーバーヒートした思考回路を冷ましてくれる。読む方は、その文章の流れに身を委ねるだけでよい。例えば、こんな一節。
Most mornings, I prepared breakfast for myself in the apartment, but since I disliked cooking and lacked all talent for it, I tended to eat lunch and dinner in restaurants --- always alone, always with an open book in front of me, always chewing as slowly as possible in order to drag out the meal as long as I could. After sampling a number of options in the vicinity, I settled on the Cosmic Diner as my regular spot for lunch. The food there was mediocre at best, but one of the waitresses was an adorable Puerto Rican girl named Marina, and I rapidly developed a crush on her. She was half my age and alreadly married, which meant that romance was out of the question, but she was so splendid to look at, so gentle in her dealings with me, so ready to laugh at my less than funny jokes, that I literally pined for her on her days off.
流れるような文章。そのまま暗唱したくなる。レストランの描写と言えば、ちょっと設定は違うが、ヘミングウェイの『移動祝祭日』の冒頭を思い出す。巴里のカフェで、食事をしながら小説を執筆するヘミングウェイ。ふと原稿から顔を上げると、きれいな女の子が一人でカフェに入ってきて、窓ぎわのテーブルに座る。こんな一節。
A girl came in the cafe and sat by herself at a table near the window. She was very pretty with a face fresh as a newly minted coin if they minted coins in smooth flesh with rain-freshened skin, and her hair was black as a crow's wing and cut sharply and diagonally across her cheek.

I looked at her and she disturbed me and made me very excited. I wished I could put her in the story, or anywhere, but she had placed herself so she could watch the street and the entry and I knew she was waiting for someone. So I went on writing.

The story was writing itself and I was having a hard time keeping up with it. I ordered another rum St. James and I watched the girl whenever I looked up, or when I sharpened the pencil with a pencil sharpener with the shavings curling into the saucer under my drink.

I've seen you, beauty, and you belong to me now, whoever you are waiting for and if I never see you again, I thought. You belong to me and all Paris belongs to me and I belong to this notebook and this pencil.

Then I went back to writing and I entered far into the story and was lost in it. I was writing it now and it was not writing itself and I did not look up nor know anything about the time nor think where I was nor order any more rum St. James. I was tired of rum St. James without thinking about it. Then the story was finished and I was very tired. I read the last paragraph and then I looked up and looked for the girl and she had gone. I hope she's gone with a good man, I thought. But I felt sad.
やっぱり雰囲気が少し違うか。
[PR]

by anglophile | 2010-07-14 23:49 | 読書 | Comments(0)


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