白噪音(White Noise) (英文版)作者:唐·德里罗(Don DeLillo)-第14章

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　　〃Not　like　my　mother。〃
　　〃I　forget　things　all　the　time。〃
　　〃What　do　you　take？〃
　　〃Blood　pressure　pills；　stress　pills；　allergy　pills；　eye　drops；　aspirin。　Run　of　the　mill。〃
　　〃I　looked　in　the　medicine　chest　in　your　bathroom。〃
　　〃No　Dylar？〃
　　〃I　thought　there　might　be　a　new　bottle。〃
　　〃The　doctor　prescribed　thirty　pills。　That　was　it。　Run　of　the　mill。　Everybody　takes　something。〃
　　〃I　still　want　to　know；〃　she　said。
　　All　this　time　she'd　been　turned　away　from　me。　There　were　plot　potentials　in　this　situation；　chances　for　people　to　make　devious　maneuvers；　secret　plans。　But　now　she　shifted　position；　used　an　elbow　to　prop　her　upper　body　and　watched　me　speculatively　from　the　foot　of　the　bed。
　　〃Can　I　ask　you　something？〃
　　〃Sure；〃　I　said。
　　〃You　won't　get　mad？〃
　　〃You　know　what's　in　my　medicine　chest。　What　secrets　are　left？〃
　　〃Why　did　you　name　Heinrich　Heinrich？〃
　　〃Fair　question。〃
　　〃You　don't　have　to　answer。〃
　　〃Good　question。　No　reason　why　you　shouldn't　ask。〃
　　〃So　why　did　you？〃
　　〃I　thought　it　was　a　forceful　name；　a　strong　name。　It　has　a　kind　of　authority。〃
　　〃Is　he　named　after　anyone？〃
　　〃No。　He　was　born　shortly　after　I　started　the　department　and　I　guess　I　wanted　to　acknowledge　my　good　fortune。　I　wanted　to　do　something　German。　I　felt　a　gesture　was　called　for。〃
　　〃Heinrich　Gerhardt　Gladney？〃
　　〃I　thought　it　had　an　authority　that　might　cling　to　him。　I　thought　it　was　forceful　and　impressive　and　I　still　do。　I　wanted　to　shield　him；　make　him　unafraid。　People　were　naming　their　children　Kim；　Kelly　and　Tracy。〃
　　There　was　a　long　silence。　She　kept　watching　me。　Her　features；　crowded　somewhat　in　the　center　of　her　face；　gave　to　her　moments　of　concentration　a　puggish　and　half…belligerent　look。
　　〃Do　you　think　I　miscalculated？〃
　　〃It's　not　for　me　to　say。〃
　　〃There's　something　about　German　names；　the　German　language；　German　things。　I　don't　know　what　it　is　exactly。　It's　just　there。　In　the　middle　of　it　all　is　Hitler；　of　course。〃
　　〃He　was　on　again　last　night。〃
　　〃He's　always　on。　We　couldn't　have　television　without　him。〃
　　〃They　lost　the　war；〃　she　said。　〃How　great　could　they　be？〃
　　〃A　valid　point。　But　it's　not　a　question　of　greatness。　It's　not　a　question　of　good　and　evil。　I　don't　know　what　it　is。　Look　at　it　this　way。　Some　people　always　wear　a　favorite　color。　Some　people　carry　a　gun。　Some　people　put　on　a　uniform　and　feel　bigger；　stronger；　safer。　It's　in　this　area　that　my　obsessions　dwell。〃
　　Steffie　came　in　wearing　Denise's　green　visor。　I　didn't　know　what　this　meant。　She　climbed　up　on　the　bed　and　all　three　of　us　went　through　my　German…English　dictionary；　looking　for　words　that　sound　about　the　same　in　both　languages；　like　orgy　and　shoe。
　　Heinrich　came　running　down　the　hall；　burst　into　the　room。
　　〃e　on；　hurry　up；　plane　crash　footage。〃　Then　he　was　out　the　door；　the　girls　were　off　the　bed；　all　three　of　them　running　along　the　hall　to　the　TV　set。
　　I　sat　in　bed　a　little　stunned。　The　swiftness　and　noise　of　their　leaving　had　put　the　room　in　a　state　of　molecular　agitation。　In　the　debris　of　invisible　matter；　the　question　seemed　to　be；　What　is　happening　here？　By　the　time　I　got　to　the　room　at　the　end　of　the　hall；　there　was　only　a　puff　of　black　smoke　at　the　edge　of　the　screen。　But　the　crash　was　shown　two　more　times；　once　in　stop…action　replay；　as　an　analyst　attempted　to　explain　the　reason　for　the　plunge。　A　jet　trainer　in　an　air　show　in　New　Zealand。
　　We　had　two　closet　doors　that　opened　by　themselves。
　　That　night；　a　Friday；　we　gathered　in　front　of　the　set；　as　was　the　custom　and　the　rule；　with　take…out　Chinese。　There　were　flopds；　earthquakes；　mud　slides；　erupting　volcanoes。　We'd　never　before　been　so　attentive　to　our　duty；　our　Friday　assembly。　Heinrich　was　not　sullen；　I　was　not　bored。　Steffie；　brought　close　to　tears　by　a　sit　husband　arguing　with　his　wife；　appeared　totally　absorbed　in　these　documentary　clips　of　calamity　and　death。　Babette　tried　to　switch　to　a　edy　series　about　a　group　of　racially　mixed　kids　who　build　their　own　munications　satellite。　She　was　startled　by　the　force　of　our　objection。　We　were　otherwise　silent；　watching　houses　slide　into　the　ocean；　whole　villages　crackle　and　ignite　in　a　mass　of　advancing　lava。　Every　disaster　made　us　wish　for　more；　for　something　bigger；　grander；　more　sweeping。
　　I　walked　into　my　office　on　Monday　to　find　Murray　sitting　in　the　chair　adjacent　to　the　desk；　like　someone　waiting　for　a　nurse　to　arrive　with　a　blood…pressure　gauge。　He'd　been　having　trouble；　he　said；　establishing　an　Elvis　Presley　power　base　in　the　department　of　American　environments。　The　chairman；　Alfonse　Stompanato；　seemed　to　feel　that　one　of　the　other　instructors；　a　three…hundred…pound　former　rock　'n'　roll　bodyguard　named　Dimitrios　Cotsakis；　had　established　prior　right　by　having　flown　to　Memphis　when　the　King　died；　interviewed　members　of　the　King's　entourage　and　family；　been　interviewed　himself　on　local　television　as　an　Interpreter　of　the　Phenomenon。
　　A　more　than　middling　coup；　Murray　conceded。　I　suggested　that　I　might　drop　by　his　next　lecture；　informally；　unannounced；　simply　to　lend　a　note　of　consequence　to　the　proceedings；　to　give　him　the　benefit　of　whatever　influence　and　prestige　might　reside　in　my　office；　my　subject；　my　physical　person。　He　nodded　slowly；　fingering　the　ends　of　his　beard。
　　Later　at　lunch　I　spotted　only　one　empty　chair；　at　a　table　occupied　by　the　New　York　émigrés。　Alfonse　sat　at　the　head　of　the　table；　a　manding　presence　even　in　a　campus　lunchroom。　He　was　large；　sardonic；　dark…staring；　with　scarred　brows　and　a　furious　beard　fringed　in　gray。　It　was　the　very　beard　I　would　have　grown　in　1969　if　Janet　Savory；　my　second　wife；　Heinrich's　mother；　hadn't　argued　against　it。　〃Let　them　see　that　bland　expanse；〃　she　said；　in　her　tiny　dry　voice。　〃It　is　more　effective　than　you　think。〃
　　Alfonse　invested　everything　he　did　with　a　sense　of　all…consuming　purpose。　He　knew　four　languages；　had　a　photographic　memory；　did　plex　mathematics　in　his　head。　He'd　once　told　me　that　the　art　of　getting　ahead　in　New　York　was　based　on　learning　how　to　express　dissatisfaction　in　an　interesting　way。　The　air　was　full　of　rage　and　plaint。　People　had　no　tolerance　for　your　particular　hardship　unless　you　knew　how　to　entertain　them　with　it。　Alfonse　himself　was　occasionally　entertaining　in　a　pulverizing　way。　He　had　a　manner　that　enabled　him　to　absorb　and　destroy　all　opinions　in　conflict　with　his。　When　he　talked　about　popular　culture；　he　exercised　the　closed　logic　of　a　religious　zealot；　one　who　kills　for　his　beliefs。　His　breathing　grew　heavy；　arrhythmic；　his　brows　seemed　to　lock。　The　other　émigrés　appeared　to　find　his　challenges　and　taunts　a　proper　context　for　their　endeavor。　They　used　his　office　to　pitch　pennies　to　the　wall。
　　I　said　to　him；　〃Why　is　it；　Alfonse；　that　decent；　well…meaning　and　responsible　people　find　themselves　intrigued　by　catastrophe　when　they　see　it　on　television？〃
　　I　told　him　about　the　recent　evening　of　lava；　mud　and　raging　water　that　the　children　and　I　had　found　so　entertaining。
　　We　wanted　more；　more。
　　〃It's　natural；　it's　normal；〃　he　said；　with　a　reassuring　nod。　〃It　happens　to　everybody。〃
　　〃Why？〃
　　〃Because　we're　suffering　from　brain　fade。　We　need　an　occasional　catastrophe　to　break　up　the　incessant　bombardment　of　information。〃
　　〃It's　obvious；〃　Lasher　said。　A　slight　man　with　a　taut　face　and　slicked…back　hair。
　　〃The　flow　is　constant；〃　Alfonse　said。　〃Words；　pictures；　numbers；　facts；　graphics；　statistics；　specks；　waves；　particles；　motes。　Only　a　catastrophe　gets　our　attention。　We　want　them；　we　need　them；　we　depend　on　them。　As　long　as　they　happen　somewhere　else。　This　is　where　California　es　in。　Mud　slides；　brush　fires；　coastal　erosion；　earthquakes；　mass　killings；　et　cetera。　We　can　relax　and　enjoy　these　disasters　because　in　our　hearts　we　feel　that　California　deserves　whatever　it　gets。　Californians　invented　the　concept　of　life…style。　This　alone　warrants　their　doom。〃
　　Cotsakis　crushed　a　can　of　Diet　Pepsi　and　threw　it　at　a　garbage　pail。
　　〃Japan　is　pretty　good　for　disaster　footage；〃　Alfonse　said。　〃India　remains　largely　untapped。　They　have　tremendous　potential　with　their　famines；　monsoons；　religious　strife；　train　wrecks；　boat　si