殘忍而美麗的情誼:The Kite Runner 追風箏的人(12)

12歲的阿富汗富家少爺阿米爾與僕人哈桑情同手足。然而，在一場風箏比賽後，發生了一件悲慘不堪的事，阿米爾爲自己的懦弱感到自責和痛苦，逼走了哈桑，不久，自己也跟隨父親逃往美國。

成年後的阿米爾始終無法原諒自己當年對哈桑的背叛。爲了贖罪，阿米爾再度踏上暌違二十多年的故鄉，希望能爲不幸的好友盡最後一點心力，卻發現一個驚天謊言，兒時的噩夢再度重演，阿米爾該如何抉擇？小說如此殘忍而又美麗，作者以溫暖細膩的筆法勾勒人性的本質與救贖，讀來令人蕩氣迴腸。

"There is no act More wretched than stealing, Amir,?Baba said. "A man who takes what's not his to take, be it a life or a loaf of "naan"... I spit on such a man. And if I ever cross paths with him, God help him. Do you understand?"[qh]
"沒有比盜竊更十惡不赦的事情了，阿米爾。"爸爸說，"要是有人拿走不屬於他的東西，一條性命也好，一塊饢餅也好，我都會唾棄他。要是我在街上碰到他，真主也救不了。你明白嗎?"[qh]

I found the idea of Baba clobbering a thief both exhilarating and terribly frightening. "Yes, Baba."[qh]
我發現爸爸痛擊竊賊這個主意讓我既興奮又害怕。"我明白，爸爸。"[qh]

"If there's a God out there, then I would hope he has more important things to attend to than my drinking scotch or eating pork. Now, hop down. All this talk about sin has made me thirsty again."[qh]
"如果說有什麼真主的話，我希望他有其他更重要的事情做，而不是來關注我喝烈酒。好了，下去吧。說了這麼多關於罪行的看法，我又渴了。" [qh][qh][qh][qh][qh]

I watched him fill his glass at the bar and wondered how much time would pass before we talked again the way we just had. Because the truth of it was, I always felt like Baba hated me a little. And why not? After all, I "had" killed his beloved wife, his beautiful princess, hadn't I? The least I could have done was to have had the decency to have turned out a little more like him. But I hadn't turned out like him. Not at all.[qh]
我看着他在吧檯斟滿酒杯，心裏想着，要再過多久我們才能再次這樣交談呢?因爲真相擺在那兒，我總覺得爸爸多少有點恨我。爲什麼不呢?畢竟，是我殺了他深愛着的妻子，他美麗的公主，不是嗎?我所能做的，至少應該是試圖變得更像他一點。但我沒有變得像他，一點都沒有。[qh]

IN SCHOOL, we used to play a game called "Sherjangi", or "Battle of the Poems."The Farsi teacher moderated it and it went something like this: You recited a verse from a poem and your opponent had sixty seconds to reply with a verse that began with the same letter that ended yours. Everyone in my class wanted me on their team, because by the time I was eleven, I could recite dozens of verses from Khayyam, Hãfez, or Rumi's famous "Masnawi". One time, I took on the whole class and won. I told Baba about it later that night, but he just nodded, muttered, "Good."[qh]
上學時，我們常常玩一種連句的遊戲，也就是詩歌比賽。教授法爾西語課的老師從中主持，規則大抵是這樣的：你背一句詩，你的對手有六秒鐘的時間可以回答，但必須是以你背出來那句詩最後一個字開頭的詩句。班裏人人都想跟我一組，因爲那時十一歲的我已經能背出迦亞謨（OmarKhayya＇m1048～1122，古代波斯詩人，代表作爲《魯拜集》RubaiyatofOmarKhayya＇m）、哈菲茲（ShamseddinMohammadHa~fez約1320～約1388，古代波斯詩人）的數十篇詩歌，也能誦得魯米著名的《瑪斯納維》（MowlanaJalaluddinRumi1207～1273，古代波斯詩人,《瑪斯納維》Masnavi是他的故事詩）。有一次，我代表全班出戰，並且旗開得勝。那天夜裏我告訴爸爸，他只是點點頭，咕噥了一聲:"不錯。"[qh]

That was how I escaped my father's aloofness, in my dead mother's books. That and Hassan, of course. I read everything, Rumi, Hãfez, Saadi, Victor Hugo, Jules Verne, Mark Twain, Ian Fleming. When I had finished my mother's books--not the boring history ones, I was never much into those, but the novels, the epics--I started spending my allowance on books. I bought one a week from the bookstore near Cinema Park, and stored them in cardboard boxes when I ran out of shelf room.[qh]
爲了逃避爸爸的冷漠，我埋首翻閱故去的母親留下的書本。此外，當然還有哈桑。我什麼都讀，魯米，哈菲茲，薩迪（Moslehal?DinSaadiShirazi約1210～約1290，古代波斯詩人），維克多·雨果，儒勒·凡爾納，馬克·吐溫，伊恩·弗萊明（IanFleming1908～1964，英國小說家，撰寫了007系列小說）。讀完媽媽的遺藏--我從來不碰那些枯燥的歷史書，只看小說和詩歌--之後，我開始用零花錢買書。我每週到電影院公園邊上的書店買一本書，直到書架放不下了，就放在硬紙箱裏面。