读海明威的《雨中的猫》
很久没读海明威了。最近看好几个贴子里都在讨论海明威，我找出以前读《雨中的猫》时写的读书笔记，贴一下，再回味一遍这篇小说。
故事极简，英文只有1161字，译成中文，估计也只得2000来字。说的是：一个下雨天，在意大利的一间旅馆里，有对美国夫妇。丈夫靠在床上看书，妻子站在窗前，看见外面有只猫在桌子下躲雨。她心疼那只猫，下楼去捉。旅馆老板差侍女给她打伞。猫没找到，她回到房间，坐在梳妆台前，看着镜子中的自己，对丈夫说：“我要把我的头发留长，扎个发髻，……我真想有一只小猫坐在我膝上，摸它，它便喵呜喵呜地叫。”她还说了好多个“她想”。丈夫只继续看书，叫她住嘴，也看书去。这时有人敲门，侍女站在门口，举着一只猫，说是老板送给太太的。
小说就此完了。什么意思？海明威想说什么？他不像欧•亨利给读者一个斩丁截铁的戏剧性结局，他将读者茫然地悬在了半空。
妻子真的是想要一只猫吗？妻子说她想要一只猫，她想留长头发，老是一头男孩一样的短发，她厌倦了，她要头发长到能在脑后扎一个她可以摸得到的发髻。她还想吃饭时用自己的银质餐具，要点上蜡烛，想要现在就是春天，想在镜子前梳长头，想要新衣服……她有好多个“她想”。可是她也说，如果没有长头发，没有别的有趣的东西，那么她想要一只猫。
她是真的想要一只猫吗？我以为，她是想要另一种生活。如果另一种生活不可得，那么，她想要一只猫，聊以慰藉。
我想到亦舒笔下的喜宝，她说：“我需要很多很多的爱，如果没有爱，那么就很多很多的钱，如果两件都没有，有健康也是好的。”因为这句话，喜宝顿时鲜活，因为这句话，我也喜欢上了喜宝。其实，这位妻子和喜宝一样，她们都在妥协。求而不得，便退而求其次。
文中总共只有四个人物：丈夫、妻子、旅馆老板、女仆。女仆可以忽略不计，反而那只猫应该算一个人物。这只躲雨的猫让我想到妻子，她们都处在尴尬的境地，她们都需要别人的关爱。雨很大，那只猫蜷缩在室外一张桌子下转着，尽量避开雨滴，让自己不被淋湿。而妻子呢，百无聊奈，不管对丈夫说什么，总是得不到丈夫的回应。他要么充耳不闻，要么有口无心。妻子看到雨中的猫，对丈夫说要下去捉那只猫，丈夫客气地说“我去吧。”可一旦妻子说“还是我去吧。”他便不再坚持，接着看书去了，可见那句“我去吧”只是敷衍，并未当真。显然这种事也不是第一次发生，因为他说了之后，妻子也未当真，还是说自己去。更可能这是妻子经过多次失望之后得出的教训，不可将丈夫的话当真。妻子多次说，“我要一只猫”，乞求也好、撒娇也罢，都没有收到任何效果，她还说了很多个“她想”，只换来丈夫一声“shut up and get something to read，”妻子对现在的生活厌倦了，而丈夫却很满意，这就是两人间的距离，大概熟悉的陌生人就是这样子吧。
我们可以拿丈夫与旅馆老板来对比。以海明威这样惜字如金的人，妻子和丈夫长什么样，他一字未提。但我们知道旅馆老板长什么样，他很老，他个子很高。海明威接着用了七个“喜欢”来强调妻子喜欢这位旅馆老板。她喜欢他认真地对待顾客的投诉抱怨、喜欢他那庄严的态度，喜欢他乐于为她效劳的样子，喜欢他当旅馆老板的那种感觉，喜欢他那张上了年纪而迟钝的脸和那一双大手。这位老板，在妻子下楼去捉猫，经过大堂时，哪怕他的办公位置离这位女子很远，他也站起来，鞠躬、打招呼，在她准备出门时，让女仆为她撑伞，最后还为她送来一只猫。所以我们明白了妻子为什么喜欢他，因为她在这位旅馆老板那里得到了重视，让她觉得自己“really important”，有片刻甚至觉得自己“supreme importance”，哪怕旅馆老板那儿，这只是“顾客至上”而已，但在妻子看来，这好过丈夫的无视，好过当个隐形人。
如果在这样一个下雨的午后，临近傍晚，棕榈树叶上滴着雨水，广场上的纪念碑被雨水洗得发亮，石子路上有水洼，雨中海水成一条长线滚过来又退回去，广场上空无一人。你困在旅馆里不能出去，丈夫只顾看书不理你，你无聊站在窗前，想了很多，你希望现在是春天，你想要长头发，……碰巧看见一只小猫在躲雨，你也会脱口而出，想要一只猫吧。
就是这么一个荒凉的世界。妻子在这个时候也许有些脆弱，于是，她冒险诉说，只可惜，所托非人，这个丈夫只说“闭嘴吧，找点东西看。” 也许对月亮、对花、对草来倾诉她的梦想会更好。如果是阳光灿烂的午后，她决不会生出这许多“想要”。如果是只在阳光下打盹的猫，她可能会笑，会想摸摸， 却不会想要。
隔了那么远，旅馆老板通过侍女听到了这位妻子的小小要求，他让侍女送来一只猫。可是，这位妻子真地想要一只猫吗？
一篇文章写成后，如何解读就是读者的事了，一百个哈姆雷特可能出现。有分析说这是女性意识的觉醒、是对男权社会的抗争。好大的主题。也有因此而探讨婚姻生活夫妻关系的，还有八卦说，这位美国妻子就是海明威的妻子哈德莉，是她在抱怨。
而我只读到无可奈何的妥协，读到言不及义的慰藉。这荒凉的人生，大约只能继续苦笑着自说自话了。
故事极简，英文只有1161字，译成中文，估计也只得2000来字。说的是：一个下雨天，在意大利的一间旅馆里，有对美国夫妇。丈夫靠在床上看书，妻子站在窗前，看见外面有只猫在桌子下躲雨。她心疼那只猫，下楼去捉。旅馆老板差侍女给她打伞。猫没找到，她回到房间，坐在梳妆台前，看着镜子中的自己，对丈夫说：“我要把我的头发留长，扎个发髻，……我真想有一只小猫坐在我膝上，摸它，它便喵呜喵呜地叫。”她还说了好多个“她想”。丈夫只继续看书，叫她住嘴，也看书去。这时有人敲门，侍女站在门口，举着一只猫，说是老板送给太太的。
小说就此完了。什么意思？海明威想说什么？他不像欧•亨利给读者一个斩丁截铁的戏剧性结局，他将读者茫然地悬在了半空。
妻子真的是想要一只猫吗？妻子说她想要一只猫，她想留长头发，老是一头男孩一样的短发，她厌倦了，她要头发长到能在脑后扎一个她可以摸得到的发髻。她还想吃饭时用自己的银质餐具，要点上蜡烛，想要现在就是春天，想在镜子前梳长头，想要新衣服……她有好多个“她想”。可是她也说，如果没有长头发，没有别的有趣的东西，那么她想要一只猫。
她是真的想要一只猫吗？我以为，她是想要另一种生活。如果另一种生活不可得，那么，她想要一只猫，聊以慰藉。
我想到亦舒笔下的喜宝，她说：“我需要很多很多的爱，如果没有爱，那么就很多很多的钱，如果两件都没有，有健康也是好的。”因为这句话，喜宝顿时鲜活，因为这句话，我也喜欢上了喜宝。其实，这位妻子和喜宝一样，她们都在妥协。求而不得，便退而求其次。
文中总共只有四个人物：丈夫、妻子、旅馆老板、女仆。女仆可以忽略不计，反而那只猫应该算一个人物。这只躲雨的猫让我想到妻子，她们都处在尴尬的境地，她们都需要别人的关爱。雨很大，那只猫蜷缩在室外一张桌子下转着，尽量避开雨滴，让自己不被淋湿。而妻子呢，百无聊奈，不管对丈夫说什么，总是得不到丈夫的回应。他要么充耳不闻，要么有口无心。妻子看到雨中的猫，对丈夫说要下去捉那只猫，丈夫客气地说“我去吧。”可一旦妻子说“还是我去吧。”他便不再坚持，接着看书去了，可见那句“我去吧”只是敷衍，并未当真。显然这种事也不是第一次发生，因为他说了之后，妻子也未当真，还是说自己去。更可能这是妻子经过多次失望之后得出的教训，不可将丈夫的话当真。妻子多次说，“我要一只猫”，乞求也好、撒娇也罢，都没有收到任何效果，她还说了很多个“她想”，只换来丈夫一声“shut up and get something to read，”妻子对现在的生活厌倦了，而丈夫却很满意，这就是两人间的距离，大概熟悉的陌生人就是这样子吧。
我们可以拿丈夫与旅馆老板来对比。以海明威这样惜字如金的人，妻子和丈夫长什么样，他一字未提。但我们知道旅馆老板长什么样，他很老，他个子很高。海明威接着用了七个“喜欢”来强调妻子喜欢这位旅馆老板。她喜欢他认真地对待顾客的投诉抱怨、喜欢他那庄严的态度，喜欢他乐于为她效劳的样子，喜欢他当旅馆老板的那种感觉，喜欢他那张上了年纪而迟钝的脸和那一双大手。这位老板，在妻子下楼去捉猫，经过大堂时，哪怕他的办公位置离这位女子很远，他也站起来，鞠躬、打招呼，在她准备出门时，让女仆为她撑伞，最后还为她送来一只猫。所以我们明白了妻子为什么喜欢他，因为她在这位旅馆老板那里得到了重视，让她觉得自己“really important”，有片刻甚至觉得自己“supreme importance”，哪怕旅馆老板那儿，这只是“顾客至上”而已，但在妻子看来，这好过丈夫的无视，好过当个隐形人。
如果在这样一个下雨的午后，临近傍晚，棕榈树叶上滴着雨水，广场上的纪念碑被雨水洗得发亮，石子路上有水洼，雨中海水成一条长线滚过来又退回去，广场上空无一人。你困在旅馆里不能出去，丈夫只顾看书不理你，你无聊站在窗前，想了很多，你希望现在是春天，你想要长头发，……碰巧看见一只小猫在躲雨，你也会脱口而出，想要一只猫吧。
就是这么一个荒凉的世界。妻子在这个时候也许有些脆弱，于是，她冒险诉说，只可惜，所托非人，这个丈夫只说“闭嘴吧，找点东西看。” 也许对月亮、对花、对草来倾诉她的梦想会更好。如果是阳光灿烂的午后，她决不会生出这许多“想要”。如果是只在阳光下打盹的猫，她可能会笑，会想摸摸， 却不会想要。
隔了那么远，旅馆老板通过侍女听到了这位妻子的小小要求，他让侍女送来一只猫。可是，这位妻子真地想要一只猫吗？
一篇文章写成后，如何解读就是读者的事了，一百个哈姆雷特可能出现。有分析说这是女性意识的觉醒、是对男权社会的抗争。好大的主题。也有因此而探讨婚姻生活夫妻关系的，还有八卦说，这位美国妻子就是海明威的妻子哈德莉，是她在抱怨。
而我只读到无可奈何的妥协，读到言不及义的慰藉。这荒凉的人生，大约只能继续苦笑着自说自话了。
@ty_郭小米215 2018-02-06 17:23:35
刚好对这篇也很有feel，说中我好多感觉
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小米，这篇文章里几乎没有闲笔（硬要算的话，第二段可能是），但是节奏并不急切，我的就不行。另外，关于你说的犹豫，我觉得作家在写之前可能犹豫，可一旦落笔，难道不是应该解决了他的犹豫之后再落笔吗？我不知道哪个作家是犹犹豫豫地写作的。。。供探讨。
刚好对这篇也很有feel，说中我好多感觉
-----------------------------
小米，这篇文章里几乎没有闲笔（硬要算的话，第二段可能是），但是节奏并不急切，我的就不行。另外，关于你说的犹豫，我觉得作家在写之前可能犹豫，可一旦落笔，难道不是应该解决了他的犹豫之后再落笔吗？我不知道哪个作家是犹犹豫豫地写作的。。。供探讨。
@关粉儿： 黑名单 举报 干脆，一不做二不休，我把原文也贴上。
Ernest Hemingway – Cat in the Rain
There were only two Americans stopping at the hotel. They did not know any of the people they passed on the stairs on their way to and from their room. Their room was on the second floor facing the sea. It also faced the public garden and the war monument. There were big palms and green benches in the public garden.
In the good weather there was always an artist with his easel. Artists liked the way the palms grew and the bright colors of the hotels facing the gardens and the sea.
Italians came from a long way off to look up at the war monument. It was made of bronze and glistened in the rain. It was raining. The rain dripped from the palm trees. Water stood in pools on the gravel paths. The sea
broke in a long line in the rain and slipped back down the beach to come up and break again in a long line in the rain. The motor cars were gone from the square by the war monument. Across the square in the doorway of the
café a waiter stood looking out at the empty square.
The American wife stood at the window looking out. Outside right under their window a cat was crouched under one of the dripping green tables. The cat was trying to make herself so compact that she would not be dripped on.
‘I’m going down and get that kitty,’ the American wife said.
‘I’ll do it,’ her husband offered from the bed.
‘No, I’ll get it. The poor kitty out trying to keep dry under a table.’
The husband went on reading, lying propped up with the two pillows at the foot of the bed.
‘Don’t get wet,’ he said.
The wife went downstairs and the hotel owner stood up and bowed to her as she passed the office. His desk was at the far end of the office. He was an old man and very tall.
‘Il piove,1’the wife said. She liked the hotel-keeper.
‘Si, Si, Signora, brutto tempo2. It is very bad weather.’
He stood behind his desk in the far end of the dim room. The wife liked him. She liked the deadly serious way he received any complaints. She liked his dignity. She liked the way he wanted to serve her. She liked the way he felt about being a hotel-keeper. She liked his old, heavy face and big hands.
Liking him she opened the door and looked out. It was raining harder. A man in a rubber cape was crossing the empty square to the café. The cat would be around to the right. Perhaps she could go along under the eaves. As she stood in the doorway an umbrella opened behind her. It was the maid who looked after their room.
‘You must not get wet,’ she smiled, speaking Italian. Of course, the hotel-keeper had sent her.
With the maid holding the umbrella over her, she walked along the gravel path until she was under their window. The table was there, washed bright green in the rain, but the cat was gone. She was suddenly disappointed. The maid looked up at her.
‘Ha perduto qualque cosa, Signora?’3
‘There was a cat,’ said the American girl.
‘A cat?’
‘Si, il gatto.’
‘A cat?’ the maid laughed. ‘A cat in the rain?’
‘Yes, –’ she said, ‘under the table.’ Then, ‘Oh, I wanted it so much. I wanted a kitty.’
When she talked English the maid’s face tightened.
‘Come, Signora,’ she said. ‘We must get back inside. You will be wet.’
‘I suppose so,’ said the American girl.
They went back along the gravel path and passed in the door. The maid stayed outside to close the umbrella.
As the American girl passed the office, the padrone bowed from his desk. Something felt very small and tight inside the girl. The padrone made her feel very small and at the same time really important. She had a momentary feeling of being of supreme importance. She went on up the stairs. She opened the door of the room. George was on the bed, reading.
‘Did you get the cat?’ he asked, putting the book down.
‘It was gone.’
‘Wonder where it went to,’ he said, resting his eyes from reading.
She sat down on the bed.
‘I wanted it so much,’ she said. ‘I don’t know why I wanted it so much. I wanted that poor kitty. It isn’t any fun to be a poor kitty out in the rain.’
George was reading again.
She went over and sat in front of the mirror of the dressing table looking at herself with the hand glass. She studied her profile, first one side and then the other. Then she studied the back of her head and her neck.
‘Don’t you think it would be a good idea if I let my hair grow out?’ she asked, looking at her profile again.
George looked up and saw the back of her neck, clipped close like a boy’s.
‘I like it the way it is.’
‘I get so tired of it,’ she said. ‘I get so tired of looking like a boy.’
George shifted his position in the bed. He hadn’t looked away from her since she started to speak.
‘You look pretty darn nice,’ he said.
She laid the mirror down on the dresser and went over to the window and looked out. It was getting dark.
‘I want to pull my hair back tight and smooth and make a big knot at the back that I can feel,’ she said. ‘I want to have a kitty to sit on my lap and purr when I stroke her.’
‘Yeah?’ George said from the bed.
‘And I want to eat at a table with my own silver and I want candles. And I want it to be spring and I want to brush my hair out in front of a mirror and I want a kitty and I want some new clothes.’
‘Oh, shut up and get something to read,’ George said. He was reading again.
His wife was looking out of the window. It was quite dark now and still raining in the palm trees.
‘Anyway, I want a cat,’ she said, ‘I want a cat. I want a cat now. If I can’t have long hair or any fun, I can have a cat.’
George was not listening. He was reading his book. His wife looked out of the window where the light had come on in the square.
Someone knocked at the door.
‘Avanti,’ George said. He looked up from his book.
In the doorway stood the maid. She held a big tortoiseshell cat pressed tight against her and swung down against her body.
‘Excuse me,’ she said, ‘the padrone asked me to bring this for the Signora.’
注释：
1.‘It’s raining.’
2 ‘Yes, yes Madam. Awful weather.’
3 ‘Have you lost something, Madam?’
Ernest Hemingway – Cat in the Rain
There were only two Americans stopping at the hotel. They did not know any of the people they passed on the stairs on their way to and from their room. Their room was on the second floor facing the sea. It also faced the public garden and the war monument. There were big palms and green benches in the public garden.
In the good weather there was always an artist with his easel. Artists liked the way the palms grew and the bright colors of the hotels facing the gardens and the sea.
Italians came from a long way off to look up at the war monument. It was made of bronze and glistened in the rain. It was raining. The rain dripped from the palm trees. Water stood in pools on the gravel paths. The sea
broke in a long line in the rain and slipped back down the beach to come up and break again in a long line in the rain. The motor cars were gone from the square by the war monument. Across the square in the doorway of the
café a waiter stood looking out at the empty square.
The American wife stood at the window looking out. Outside right under their window a cat was crouched under one of the dripping green tables. The cat was trying to make herself so compact that she would not be dripped on.
‘I’m going down and get that kitty,’ the American wife said.
‘I’ll do it,’ her husband offered from the bed.
‘No, I’ll get it. The poor kitty out trying to keep dry under a table.’
The husband went on reading, lying propped up with the two pillows at the foot of the bed.
‘Don’t get wet,’ he said.
The wife went downstairs and the hotel owner stood up and bowed to her as she passed the office. His desk was at the far end of the office. He was an old man and very tall.
‘Il piove,1’the wife said. She liked the hotel-keeper.
‘Si, Si, Signora, brutto tempo2. It is very bad weather.’
He stood behind his desk in the far end of the dim room. The wife liked him. She liked the deadly serious way he received any complaints. She liked his dignity. She liked the way he wanted to serve her. She liked the way he felt about being a hotel-keeper. She liked his old, heavy face and big hands.
Liking him she opened the door and looked out. It was raining harder. A man in a rubber cape was crossing the empty square to the café. The cat would be around to the right. Perhaps she could go along under the eaves. As she stood in the doorway an umbrella opened behind her. It was the maid who looked after their room.
‘You must not get wet,’ she smiled, speaking Italian. Of course, the hotel-keeper had sent her.
With the maid holding the umbrella over her, she walked along the gravel path until she was under their window. The table was there, washed bright green in the rain, but the cat was gone. She was suddenly disappointed. The maid looked up at her.
‘Ha perduto qualque cosa, Signora?’3
‘There was a cat,’ said the American girl.
‘A cat?’
‘Si, il gatto.’
‘A cat?’ the maid laughed. ‘A cat in the rain?’
‘Yes, –’ she said, ‘under the table.’ Then, ‘Oh, I wanted it so much. I wanted a kitty.’
When she talked English the maid’s face tightened.
‘Come, Signora,’ she said. ‘We must get back inside. You will be wet.’
‘I suppose so,’ said the American girl.
They went back along the gravel path and passed in the door. The maid stayed outside to close the umbrella.
As the American girl passed the office, the padrone bowed from his desk. Something felt very small and tight inside the girl. The padrone made her feel very small and at the same time really important. She had a momentary feeling of being of supreme importance. She went on up the stairs. She opened the door of the room. George was on the bed, reading.
‘Did you get the cat?’ he asked, putting the book down.
‘It was gone.’
‘Wonder where it went to,’ he said, resting his eyes from reading.
She sat down on the bed.
‘I wanted it so much,’ she said. ‘I don’t know why I wanted it so much. I wanted that poor kitty. It isn’t any fun to be a poor kitty out in the rain.’
George was reading again.
She went over and sat in front of the mirror of the dressing table looking at herself with the hand glass. She studied her profile, first one side and then the other. Then she studied the back of her head and her neck.
‘Don’t you think it would be a good idea if I let my hair grow out?’ she asked, looking at her profile again.
George looked up and saw the back of her neck, clipped close like a boy’s.
‘I like it the way it is.’
‘I get so tired of it,’ she said. ‘I get so tired of looking like a boy.’
George shifted his position in the bed. He hadn’t looked away from her since she started to speak.
‘You look pretty darn nice,’ he said.
She laid the mirror down on the dresser and went over to the window and looked out. It was getting dark.
‘I want to pull my hair back tight and smooth and make a big knot at the back that I can feel,’ she said. ‘I want to have a kitty to sit on my lap and purr when I stroke her.’
‘Yeah?’ George said from the bed.
‘And I want to eat at a table with my own silver and I want candles. And I want it to be spring and I want to brush my hair out in front of a mirror and I want a kitty and I want some new clothes.’
‘Oh, shut up and get something to read,’ George said. He was reading again.
His wife was looking out of the window. It was quite dark now and still raining in the palm trees.
‘Anyway, I want a cat,’ she said, ‘I want a cat. I want a cat now. If I can’t have long hair or any fun, I can have a cat.’
George was not listening. He was reading his book. His wife looked out of the window where the light had come on in the square.
Someone knocked at the door.
‘Avanti,’ George said. He looked up from his book.
In the doorway stood the maid. She held a big tortoiseshell cat pressed tight against her and swung down against her body.
‘Excuse me,’ she said, ‘the padrone asked me to bring this for the Signora.’
注释：
1.‘It’s raining.’
2 ‘Yes, yes Madam. Awful weather.’
3 ‘Have you lost something, Madam?’
@若啬 2018-02-08 22:53:59
雪天的猫。
-----------------------------
其实我很怕猫的，我不是爱猫人士。我觉得猫很恐怖，它盯着你，像是知道你在想什么，看进你的灵魂里去了。爱伦坡的黑猫多可怕呀。
估计要被肖毛等一众爱猫人士批判了：）
雪天的猫。
-----------------------------
其实我很怕猫的，我不是爱猫人士。我觉得猫很恐怖，它盯着你，像是知道你在想什么，看进你的灵魂里去了。爱伦坡的黑猫多可怕呀。
估计要被肖毛等一众爱猫人士批判了：）