按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
他差不多是一概不知。他整日埋头工作，几乎没有一次在夕阳下漫游，偶尔站在公园的瞭望塔旁，看防御用的堡垒在池塘边高高耸立，注视男孩们在岸边钓鱼，看女孩们在岩石旁随心所欲地躺着。他与悠闲一派根本沾不上边，在这座城市，一次也没有注意到真正的惊喜，因为他心中只有工作。他在曼哈顿金钱遍地的河里垂钓过，收获过钱币，却一次也没有聆听过它的呼吸，没有在它的清晨醒来、在它的夜晚睡下。每个工作日的早晨，大概有40万男男女女，从地铁和隧道里挤出来，来到这片岛屿。他们中很少有人曾在公共图书馆安静的阅览室里，享受过一个悠闲的下午。图书馆运书的电梯（如同一部水车）不断地上上下下，把书运送到流动架上。他们在包厘街上帮人看管火炉，炉膛里的火苗在温度只有零度的冬夜里噼里啪啦地响。他们也可能在金融区中心工作，却从未见过洛克菲勒中心富丽堂皇的花卉树木。在那儿，一到风景优美的春天清晨，黄水仙、麝香兰属植物和白桦树都整理得整整齐齐的，还有各色旗帜迎风飘扬。他们也可能在市中心的办公室里工作，一年又一年，却从未见过防波堤外面的总督岛。这样的上班族只要离开人世，人生的日程表上会留有一串长长的印记，可他却不是一个流浪者。即便和那些饲养草原犬鼠的村民们相比，他的登场和谢幕离开要多几分曲折。他最终埋葬在东河河底的污泥里，变成一朵浪花静静地拍打着大桥。仅仅长岛铁路一家公司去年就运送了四千万这样的上班族，但其中很多是反复往来的人。书 包 网 txt小说上传分享
这里是纽约（3）
纽约的奇妙之处还在于，有时候城里的居民反而比匆忙的上班族走得更远。欧文·柏林当年从郊区东部的雪莉街来到市中心的一幢公寓，走的是一条普通的小路，两者间的距离不过三四英里，但他却如同绕地球走了三圈。
Here Is New York
Elwyn Brooks White
On any person who desires such queer1 prizes； New York will bestow the gift of loneliness and the gift of privacy。 It is this largess that accounts for the presence within the city’s walls of a considerable section of the population； for the residents of Manhattan are to a large extent strangers who have pulled up stakes somewhere and e to town； seeking sanctuary or fulfillment or some greater or lesser grail。 The capacity to make such dubious gifts is a mysterious quality of New York。 It can destroy an individual； or it can fulfill him； depending a good deal on luck。 No one should e to New York to live unless he is willing to be lucky。
New York is the concentrate2 of art and merce and sport and religion and entertainment and finance； bringing to a single pact arena the gladiator； the evangelist； the promoter； the actor； the trader； and the merchant。 It carries on its lapel the unexpungeable odor of the long past； so that no matter where you sit in New York you feel the vibrations of great times and tall deeds； of queer people and events and undertakings。 I am sitting at the moment in a stifling hotel room in 90…degree heat； halfway down an air shaft； in midtown。 No air moves in or out of the room； yet I am curiously affected by emanations from the immediate surroundings。 I am twenty…two blocks from where Rudolph Valentino lay in state； eight blocks from where Nathan Hale was executed； five blocks from the publisher’s office where Ernest Hemingway hit Max Eastman on the nose； four miles from where Walt Whitman sat sweating out editorials for the Brooklyn Eagle； thirty…four blocks from the street Willa Cather lived in when she came to New York to write books about Nebraska； one block from where Marceline used to clown on the boards of the Hippodrome； thirty…six blocks from the spot where the historian Joe Gould kicked a radio to pieces in full view of the public； thirteen blocks from where Harry Thaw shot Stanford Whites； five blocks from where I used to usher at the Metropolitan Opera and only 112 blocks from the spot where Clarence Day the elder was washed of his sins in the Church of the Epiphany （ I could continue this list indefinitely）； and for that matter I am probably occupying the very room that any number of exalted and somewise memorable characters sat in； some of them on hot； breathless afternoons； lonely and private and full of their own sense of emanations3 from without。
When I went down to lunch a few minutes ago I noticed that the man sitting next to me （about eighteen inches away along the wall） was Fred Stone。 The eighteen inches were both the connection and the separation that New York provides for its inhabitants。 My only connection with Fred Stone was that I saw him in The Wizard of Oz around the beginning of the century。 But our waiter felt the same stimulus from being close to a man from Oz； and after Mr。 Stone left the room the waiter told me that when he （the waiter） was a young man just arrived in this country and before he could understand a word of English； he had taken his girl for their first theater date to The Wizard of Oz。 It was a wonderful show； the waiter recalled—a man of straw； a man of tin。 Wonderful！（And still only eighteen inches away。 ） “Mr。 Stone is a very hearty eater。” said the waiter thoughtfully； content with this fragile participation in destiny； this link with Oz。。 最好的txt下载网
这里是纽约（4）
New York blends the gift of privacy with the excitement of participation； and better than most dense munities it succeeds in insulating the individual （if he wants it； and almost everybody wants or needs it） against all enormous4 and violent and wonderful events that are taking place every minute。 Since I have been sitting in this miasmic air shaft； a good many rather splashy events have occurred in town。 A man shot and killed his wife in a fit of jealousy。 It caused no stir outside his block and got only small mention in the papers。 I did not attend。 Since my arrival； the greatest air show ever staged in all the world took place in town。 I didn’t attend and neither did most of the eight million other inhabitants； although they say there was quite a crowd。 I didn’t even hear any planes except a couple of westbound mercial airliners that habitually use this air shaft to fly over。 The biggest oceangoing ships on the North Atlantic arrived and departed。 I didn’t notice them and neither did most other New Yorkers。 I am told this is the greatest seaport in the world； with 650 miles of waterfront； and ships calling here from many exotic lands； but the only boat I’ve happened to notice since my arrival was a small sloop tacking out of the East River night before last on the ebb tie when I was walking across the Brooklyn Bridge。 I heard the Queen Mary blow one midnight； though； and the sound carried the whole history of departure and longing and loss。 The Lions have been in convention。 I’ve seen not one Lion。 A friend saw one and told me about him。 （He was lame； and was wearing a bolero。） At the ballgrounds and horse parks the greatest sporting spectacles have been enacted。 I saw no ballplayer； no race horse。 The governor came to town。 I heard the siren5 scream； but that was all there was to that—an eighteen…inch margin again。 A man was killed by a falling cornice。 I was not a party to the tragedy； and again the inches counted heavily。
I mention these merely to show that New York is peculiarly constructed to absorb almost anything that es along （whether a thousand…foot liner out of the East or a twenty…thousand…man convention out of the West） without infliction the event on its inhabitants； so that every event is； in a sense； optional； and the inhabitant is in the happy position of being able to choose his spectacle and so conserve his soul。 In most metropolises； small and large； the choice is often not with the individual at all。 He is thrown to the Lions。 The Lions are overwhelming； the event is unavoidable。 A cornice falls； and it hits every citizen on the head； every last man in town。 I sometimes think that the only event that hits every New Yorker on the head is the annual St。 Patrick’s Day parade； which is fairly penetrating—the Irish are a hard race to tune out； and there are 500；000 of them in residence。 txt小说上传分享
这里是纽约（5）
The quality in New York that insulates its inhabitants from life may simply weaken them as individuals。 Perhaps it is healthier to live in a munity where； when a cornice falls； you feel the blow； where； when the governor passes； you see at any rate his hat。
I am not defending New York in this regard。 Many of its settlers are probably here merely to escape； not face； reality。 But whatever it means； it is a rather rare gift； and I believe it has a positive effect on the creative capacities of New Yorker—for creation is in part merely the business of forgoing the great and small distractions。
Although New York often imparts a feeling of great forlornness or forsakenness； it seldom seems dead or unresourceful； and you always feel that either by shifting your location ten blocks or by reducing your fortune by five dollars you can experience rejuvenation。 Many people who have no real independence of spirit depend on the city’s tremendous variety and sources of excitement for spiritual sustenance and maintenance of morale。 In the country there are a few chances of sudden rejuvenation—a shift in weather； perhaps； or something arriving in the mail。 But in New York the chances are endless。 I think that although many persons are here from some excess of spirit （which caused them to break away from their small town）； some； too； are here from a deficiency of spirit； who find in New York a protection； or an easy substitution。
There are roughly three New Yorks。 There is； first；