第一篇故事的另一种翻译

这是多年前的我不知天高地厚头一次尝试翻译，语言拙劣，有些地方不忍卒读。但念在初生牛犊不怕虎的胆量还是放在这里，各位看个乐呵。

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有个朋友给我介绍了这个Stanislaw Lem写的很奇妙的科幻小说，然后说这玩意估计没法翻译成中文，因为整个小说是写一个可以制造任何以n字母开头的机器。我不信邪，准备着手翻译。没想到已经有豆友@申舶良 试图翻译了，不过他直接把英文单词直接扔进了小说，我觉得不过瘾，于是不自量力附上我的翻译，试图在最大可能保存原文含义的情况下带入中文的韵律和美感。望各位多多指教。 救世纪 (1) 一天，建造师图尔组装了一个可以创造任何以“w”为开头声母的机器。(2) 造好机器之后他决定测试一下，命令它制作卫生巾，望远镜和武士服。(3) 完成之后，图尔又让它制作无锡排骨，无骨鸡柳，五香牛肉和五谷丰登。机器严格无误地执行了指示。图尔还是不确定机器的功效，便让它一个接一个地生产网球，雾霾，娃娃，瓦片，碗，亡灵，袜子，舞者和WTO。可机器没法制作WTO，图尔相当生气，要求它给个解释。 “没听说过这东西”，机器说。 “啥？不就是世界贸易组织吗，那个国际组织……” “世界贸易组织是以s为开头声母的，我只负责以w开头的。” “但是在英文中就是WTO啊。” “哥们儿”，机器说，“要是我能制作在各种语言里以w开头的所有东西，我就成了个万能机器了，因为你能想出的东西肯定在某门外语中以w开头。这可不是那么容易啊，我没法超越你给我编程的范围，所以没法制造WTO。” “好吧，”图尔说，然后命令它制造“晚上”。机器马上就做出来了——可能有点儿小，不过绝对漆黑一片。而后图尔请来了他的朋友建造师克莱鲍修斯，并向他介绍机器，大夸特夸机器的神器功能。克莱鲍修斯有点儿恼怒，问能不能测试一下这机器。 “请便，”图尔说，“不过必须以w为开头声母。” “w？那让他制造一下物理。” （4） 机器发出呜呜声，眨眼之间图尔的院子就布满了物理学家。他们争论个不停，每人都发表厚厚的论文，然后被其他人撕得粉碎；远处可见燃烧的柴堆，物理的殉道者们在上面燃烧；天地间雷嗔电怒，奇怪的蘑菇形状烟柱冉冉升起；所有人都在同一时间开口，却没人在听，还有各式各样的备忘录，诉状，法院传票和其它文件；在边上一群老头坐着，兴奋地在碎纸片上胡写些什么。 “咋样，不错吧？”图尔骄傲地说。“绝对的物理啊！承认吧！” 不过克莱鲍修斯并不满意。 “你对那帮人不满意？你可不是想告诉我什么是物理吧？” “那你让机器做点儿别的，”图尔接着说。“你想要什么都随便。” 有那么一会儿克莱鲍修斯不知道要机器做什么。但过了不久他说要再给机器两个任务，如果机器能做到，他就承认图尔说的是真的。图尔同意了，然后克莱鲍修斯要机器制作“忘” 。（5） “忘？！”图尔大叫起来。“‘忘’是个啥？”“‘记’的反义词呗，” 克莱鲍修斯冷静地回答。“例如忘却一个人，忘情地唱歌。别假装你从没听说过‘忘’了。行了，机器，开始吧。” 不过机器已经开始了。最开始它制造了一些反质子，然后是反电子，反中子，反中微子，并继续生产，直到这些反物质在形成了一个奇异的空间。那空间像幽灵云般在他们头上闪闪发亮，里面是个没有语言和书籍的微型世界，人们盲目地互相张望，太阳被一个只有秒针的逆时针转动的时钟所取代 。（6） “哼，”克莱鲍修斯不开心地咕哝着。“那就是‘忘’啊，行吧……为了不伤和气，就先这么着吧……不过这是第三条指令：机器，制作‘无’！” （7） 机器没有动静。克莱鲍修斯得意地搓手，可图尔发话了： “你想怎么的？你让它作‘无’，它就什么都不做啊。” “我得纠正你：我让它制作‘无’，可它什么都没制作。” “‘无’就是没有嘛！” “行了吧，它应该制作‘无’，但它啥都没做，所以我赢了。因为‘无’，我亲爱的聪明同事，‘不是你所谓的平淡无奇的无，那由懒惰和静止产生的无，而是动态的，主动积极的‘无’，就是说完美无缺，独一无二，无所不在。换个词说就是‘非存在’，在它自身不存在的状态下超越极限又至高无上。” “你在把机器搞糊涂！”图尔喊道。但突然机器那有金属质感的声音响起： “说实在的，你俩怎么能在这种时刻斗嘴？是，我知道‘无’是什么，还有无物，无尽，无形，无垠，无限和无名，因为所有这些都是以w为开头声母的，无那个w。先生们，最后看一眼你们的世界吧！很快它就不这样了……” 建造师们僵住了，忘了他们的争吵，因为机器实际上真地在制作‘无’，而且它是这么做的：一个接一个，各种各样的东西都被从世界移除了，被移除的东西也就停止存在，好像它们从未存在过。机器弄没了无鋈，无珷，无蘁，无乄，无鵐和无卐 。（8）不过好像和减小，减弱和减法的过程相反，机器在做加大，加强和加法，因为它相继消除了无聊，无趣，无能，无道，无法和无赖。但过了一段时间在图尔和克莱鲍修斯周围的世界绝对开始变得稀薄了。 “天啊！”图尔说。“只要这没造成不好的后果……” “别担心，”克莱鲍修斯说。“你可以看到它并不是在制造放之四海皆准的‘无’，它仅仅造成了以w为开头声母事物的消失。从‘无’的角度来看，这根本什么都算不上，而且图尔，你的机器也什么都算不上！” “别被误导了，”机器回答。“确实，我是从w开头的东西开始的，不过仅仅是出于熟悉啊。创造是一回事，可毁灭完全是另一回事。我可以抹杀这个世界，就像我能在w的范围内做任何事乃至所有事——而所有就意味着一切。‘无’于我而言就是小儿科。在短于一分钟的时间内你会停止存在，就像一切其它事物一样。克莱鲍修斯，趁还来得及，你现在赶紧告诉我我是不是完全可以执行我被编程的所有功效？” “可是——”，克莱鲍修斯刚要抗议，不过马上意识到了很多东西确实在消失，而且不是那些以w为开头声母的东西。建造师们不在被身边的雄沼，淘醄，高湾，皮榖，吉岜什么的所环绕了 。（9） “停！我全收回来！终止啊！啊啊啊！别作‘无’了！”克莱鲍修斯尖叫着。可在机器得以完全停止之前，所有的碎片台，塑料光，天琴和磁粉都消失了。现在机器一动不动地立在那。世界看上去无比恐怖，天空尤其受害不浅：只有在天堂里一些零零散散的光点还在——那些富丽堂皇、直到刚才还在修饰天际的皮榖和磁粉，都没了！ “伟岸的高斯啊！”克莱鲍修斯喊道。“雄沼呢？我最喜欢的吉岜呢？温柔的磁粉呢？” “克莱鲍修斯，别装成一个比你还傻的蠢货了，”机器温和地说。“我要是当机立断、一气呵成地制造了‘无’，所有东西早都没了，包括图尔，天空，宇宙，还有你——甚至我自己。可那样的话谁能去说，又能跟谁去说明你的那些命令被执行了，而且我是一个高效能干的机器呢？如果没人能说给任何人，到时已无法证明自己的我又怎能证明自己是对的呢？” “是，行，咱先别说这个了，”克莱鲍修斯说。“我没什么要求你做的了，不过亲爱的机器，求你还给我磁粉，因为没了它们生活就失去了一切魅力……” “但我不行啊，它们以c开头，”机器说。“不过我倒是可以恢复无用，无能，无聊，无病呻吟，无地自容和无恶不作。至于其它的音标，我可帮不了你。” “我要我的磁粉啊！”克莱鲍修斯狂吼道。 “不好意思，没有磁粉。”机器说。“好好看看这个世界吧，它是怎样满目疮痍，充斥着又多又大的洞孔，是怎样布满着‘无’，那种填补星辰间无底虚空的‘无’，我们的一切是怎样都与它相辅相成，它又是怎样在幽暗地潜伏于物质的毫末之间。这是你干的啊，多么令人羡慕！而且我很难想象你的子孙会感激你……” “大概……他们不会发现吧，也许他们不会注意，”面无血色的克莱鲍修斯呻吟着，他难以置信地凝望着黑色的虚空，不敢在夕阳下望向他的同事图尔。克莱鲍修斯把图尔留在了可以用w做任何事的机器旁边，然后溜回了家——至今，世界还是马蜂窝般地布满了虚无，跟在停止那场大清洗前一模一样。而且由于之后人们建造以其他音标开头机器的企图都失败了，恐怕我们再也看不到像皮榖和磁粉这般壮观的景象了——不，再也看不到了。 （感谢左越同学） 注： 1.根据Michael Kandel的1965年英译本翻译（英译名：How the World was Saved, http://english.lem.pl/home/bookshelf/how-the-word-was-saved?start=2），参考了Douglas Hofstadter的Le Ton beau de Marot，也有少数句子参考了@申舶良 的翻译（http://book.douban.com/review/2790920/） 2.波兰原文和英文翻译中均为”N”，可由于小说中最重要的词汇是最后的”Nothing”，我选择了“无”中的“W” 3.故事中会出现很多以w开头的词，由于不可能找到以w开头的和原文一一照应的中文词汇，我就根据个人选择选取了这些以w开头的“非重要词汇” 4.波兰原文中意思是科学，不过科学science在英文中以s开头，故英文译本用了nature，表自然。我认为中文中“物理”一词意思相近，故用之 5.英译本为”Negative”，有多重意思，例如底片，负，消极等等。我无法在汉语中以w开头的字中找到一个有相似含义、抽象而又有多重意思的词。选择“忘”是因为它有多重意思又比较抽象，并且能借用到书中关于反物质的描述。其他可选词汇包括维度，亡等等。 6.“那空间像……”原文中没有这一句，为译者所加 7.英译本为nothing 8.英译本为nolars, nightzebs, nocs, necs, nallyrakers, neotremes and nonmalrigers等译者（作者）制造出的词汇 9.同上 附上英译本： How the World was Saved One day Trurl the constructor put together a machine that could create anything starting with n. When it was ready, he tried it out, ordering it to make needles, then nankeens and negligees, which it did, then nail the lot to narghiles filled with nepenthe and numerous other narcotics. The machine carried out his instructions to the letter. Still not completely sure of its ability, he had it produce, one after the other, nimbuses, noodles, nuclei, neutrons, naphtha, noses, nymphs, naiads, and natrium. 'This last it could not do, and Trurl, considerably irritated, demanded an explanation.Klapaucjusz "Never heard of it," said the machine. "What? But it's only sodium. You know, the metal, the element..." "Sodium starts with an s, and I work only in n." "But in Latin it's natrium." Trurl"Look, old boy," said the machine, "if I could do everything starting with n in every possible language, I'd be a Machine That Could Do Everything in the Whole Alphabet, since any item you care to mention undoubtedly starts with n in one foreign language or another. It's not that easy. I can't go beyond what you programmed. So no sodium." "Very well," said Trurl and ordered it to make Night, which it made at once - small perhaps, but perfectly nocturnal. Only then did Trurl invite over his friend Klapaucius the constructor, and introduced him to the machine, praising its extraordinary skill at such length, that Klapaucius grew annoyed and inquired whether he too might not test the machine. "Be my guest," said Trurl. "But it has to start with n." "N?" said Klapaucius. "All right, let it make Nature." The machine whined, and in a trice Trurl's front yard was packed with naturalists. They argued, each publishing heavy volumes, which the others tore to pieces; in the distance one could see flaming pyres, on which martyrs to Nature were sizzling; there was thunder, and strange mushroom-shaped columns of smoke rose up; everyone talked at once, no one listened, and there were all sorts of memoranda, appeals, subpoenas and other documents, while off to the side sat a few old men, feverishly scribbling on scraps of paper. "Not bad, eh?" said Trurl with pride. "Nature to a T, admit it!" But Klapaucius wasn't satisfied. "What, that mob? Surely you're not going to tell me that's Nature?" "Then give the machine something else," snapped Trurl. "Whatever you like." For a moment Klapaucius was at a loss for what to ask. But after a little thought he declared that he would put two more tasks to the machine; if it could fulfill them, he would admit that it was all Trurl said it was. Trurl agreed to this, whereupon Klapaucius requested Negative. "Negative?!" cried Trurl. "What on earth is Negative?" "The opposite of positive, of course," Klapaucius coolly replied. "Negative attitudes, the negative of a picture, for example. Now don't try to pretend you never heard of Negative. All right, machine, get to work!" The machine, however, had already begun. First it manufactured antiprotons, then antielectrons, antineutrons, antineutrinos, and labored on, until from out of all this antimatter an antiworld took shape, glowing like a ghostly cloud above their heads. "H'm," muttered Klapaucius, displeased. "That's supposed to be Negative? Well... let's say it is, for the sake of peace. . . . But now here's the third command: Machine, do Nothing!" The machine sat still. Klapaucius rubbed his hands in triumph, but Trurl said: . "Well, what did you expect? You asked it to do nothing, and it's doing nothing." "Correction: I asked it to do Nothing, but it's doing nothing." "Nothing is nothing!" "Come, come. It was supposed to do Nothing, but it hasn't done anything, and therefore I've won. For Nothing, my dear and clever colleague, is not your run-of-the-mill nothing, the result of idleness and inactivity, but dynamic, aggressive Nothingness, that is to say, perfect, unique, ubiquitous, in other words Nonexistence, ultimate and supreme, in its very own nonperson!" "You're confusing the machine!" cried Trurl. But suddenly its metallic voice rang out: "Really, how can you two bicker at a time like this? Oh yes, I know what Nothing is, and Nothingness, Nonexistence, Nonentity, Negation, Nullity and Nihility, since all these come under the heading of n, n as in Nil. Look then upon your world for the last time, gentlemen! Soon it shall no longer be..." The constructors froze, forgetting their quarrel, for the machine was in actual fact doing Nothing, and it did it in this fashion: one by one, various things were removed from the world, and the things, thus removed, ceased to exist, as if they had never been. The machine had already disposed of nolars, nightzebs, nocs, necs, nallyrakers, neotremes and nonmalrigers. At moments, though, it seemed that instead of reducing, diminishing and subtracting, the machine was increasing, enhancing and adding, since it liquidated, in turn: nonconformists, nonentities, nonsense, nonsupport, nears ightedness, narrowmindedness, naughtiness, neglect, nausea, necrophdia and nepotism. But after a while the world very definitely began to thin out around Trurl and Klapaucius. "Omigosh!" said Trurl. "If only nothing bad comes out of all this . . ." "Don't worry," said Klapaucius. "You can see it's not producing Universal Nothingness, but only causing the absence of whatever starts with n. Which is really nothing in the way of nothing, and nothing is what your machine, dear Trurl, is worth!" "Do not be deceived," replied the machine. "I've begun, it's true, with everything in n, but only out of familiarity. To create however is one thing, to destroy, another thing entirely. I can blot out the world for the simple reason that I'm able to do anything and everything - and everything means everything - in n, and consequently Nothingness is child's play for me. In less than a minute now you will cease to have existence, along with everything else, so tell me now, Klapaucius, and quickly, that I am really and truly everything I was programmed to be, before it is too late." "But -" Klapaucius was about to protest, but noticed, just then, that a number of things were indeed disappearing, and not merely those that started with n. The constructors were no longer surrounded by the gruncheons, the targalisks, the shupops, the calinatifacts, the thists, worches and pritons. "Stop! I take it all back! Desist! Whoa! Don't do Nothing!!" screamed Klapaucius. But before the machine could come to a full stop, all the brashations, plusters, laries and zits had vanished away. Now the machine stood motionless. The world was a dreadful sight. The sky had particularly suffered: there were only a few, isolated points of light in the heavens - no trace of the glorious worches and zits that had, till now, graced the horizon! "Great Gauss!" cried Klapaucius. "And where are the gruncheons? Where my dear, favorite pritons? Where now the gentle zits?!" "They no longer are, nor ever will exist again," the machine said calmly. "I executed, or rather only began to execute, your order..." "I tell you to do Nothing, and you... you..." "Klapaucius, don't pretend to be a greater idiot than you are," said the machine. "Had I made Nothing outright, in one fell swoop, everything would have ceased to exist, and that includes Trurl, the sky, the Universe, and you - and even myself. In which case who could say and to whom could it be said that the order was carried out and I am an efficient and capable machine? And if no one could say it to no one, in what way then could I, who also would not be, be vindicated?" "Yes, fine, let's drop the subject," said Klapaucius. "I have nothing more to ask of you, only please, dear machine, please return the zits, for without them life loses all its charm..." "But I can't, they're in z," said the machine. "Of course, I can restore nonsense, narrowmindedness, nausea, neerophilia, neuralgia, nefariousness and noxiousness. As for the other letters, however, I can't help you." "I want my zits!" bellowed Klapaucius. "Sorry, no zits," laid the machine. "Take a good look at this world, how riddled it is with huge, gaping holes, how full of Nothingness, the Nothingness that fills the bottomless void between the stars, how everything about us has become lined with it, how it darkly lurks behind each shred of matter. This is your work, envious one! And I hardly think the future generations will bless you for it . . ." "Perhaps... they won't find out, perhaps they won't notice," groaned the pale Klapaucius, gazing up incredulously at the black emptiness of space and not daring to look his colleague, Trurl, in the eve. Leaving him beside the machine that could do everything in n. Klapaucius skulked Home - and to this day the world has remained honeycombed with nothingness, exactly as it was when halted in the course of its liquidation. And as all subsequent attempts to build a machine on any other letter met with failure, it is to be feared that never again will we have such marvelous phenomena as the worches and the zits - no, never again. Translated by Michael Kandel. Copyright 1965. Courtesy of Harcourt, Inc.