What Jack remembered and craved in a way he could neither help nor
understand was the time that distant summer on Brokeback when Ennis had
come up behind him and pulled him close, the silent embrace satisfying some
shared and sexless hunger.
They had stood that way for a long time in front of the fire, its burning tossing
ruddy chunks of light, the shadow of their bodies a single column against the
rock. The minutes ticked by from the round watch in Ennis's pocket, from the
sticks in the fire settling into coals. Stars bit through the wavy heat layers above
the fire. Ennis's breath came slow and quiet, he hummed, rocked a little in the
sparklight and Jack leaned against the steady heartbeat, the vibrations of the
humming like faint electricity and, standing, he fell into sleep that was no... (查看原文)
He pressed his face into the fabric and breathed in slowly through his mouth and nose, hoping for the faintest smoke and mountain sage and salty sweet stink of Jack, but there was no real scent, only ...He pressed his face into the fabric and breathed in slowly through his mouth and nose, hoping for the faintest smoke and mountain sage and salty sweet stink of Jack, but there was no real scent, only the memory of it, the imagined power of Brokeback Mountain of which nothing was left but what he held in his hands.(展开)
译者明显对美国西部历史比较缺乏背景知识。 Close range在辞典中确实有“近距离”之义,但此处是指封闭牧场。 美国历史曾经有所谓open range法案,允许任何人自由放牧和获取水源,但到19世纪后期出现圈地运动,许多人将公共牧场占为私有,于是发生了大量冲突。 Kevin Costner的...
(展开)
Brokeback Mountain is far more than a gay western. I first read "Brokeback Mountain", the short story on which Ang Lee's new film is based, when I was wacthing judging a short story award in 1998. It's by Annie Proulx, but I didn't know that then. The names...
(展开)
What Jack remembered and craved in a way he could neither help nor understand was the time that distant summer on Brokeback when Ennis had come up behind him and pulled him close, the silent embrace satisfying some shared and sexless hunger. They had stood that way for a long time in front of the fire, its burning tossing ruddy chunks of light, the shadow of their bodies a single column against...(2回应)
2012-05-11 15:527人喜欢
What Jack remembered and craved in a way he could neither help nor
understand was the time that distant summer on Brokeback when Ennis had
come up behind him and pulled him close, the silent embrace satisfying some
shared and sexless hunger.
They had stood that way for a long time in front of the fire, its burning tossing
ruddy chunks of light, the shadow of their bodies a single column against the
rock. The minutes ticked by from the round watch in Ennis's pocket, from the
sticks in the fire settling into coals. Stars bit through the wavy heat layers above
the fire. Ennis's breath came slow and quiet, he hummed, rocked a little in the
sparklight and Jack leaned against the steady heartbeat, the vibrations of the
humming like faint electricity and, standing, he fell into sleep that was not sleep
but something else drowsy and tranced until Ennis, dredging up a rusty but still
useable phrase from the childhood time before his mother died, said, "Time to
hit the hay, cowboy. I got a go. Come on, you're sleepin on your feet like a
horse," and gave Jack a shake, a push, and went off in the darkness. Jack heard
his spurs tremble as he mounted, the words "see you tomorrow," and the
horse's shuddering snort, grind of hoof on stone.
Later, that dozy embrace solidified in his memory as the single moment of
artless, charmed happiness in their separate and difficult lives. Nothing marred
it, even the knowledge that Ennis would not then embrace him face to face
because he did not want to see nor feel that it was Jack he held. And maybe, he
thought, they'd never got much farther than that. Let be, let be.引自第21页
Just like Makoto Shinkai put in his movie, "Thousands of mails and messages didn't shorten the distance between their hearts, not even for one millemeter."
Around that time Jack began to appear in his dreams, Jack as he had first seen him, curely-headed and smiling and bucktoothed, talking about getting up and balaced the log was there as well, in a cartoon shape and lurid colors that gave the dreams a flavor of comic obscenity. The spoon handle was the kind that could be used as a tire iron. And he would wake sometimes in grief, sometimes with th...(1回应)
2012-04-21 16:004人喜欢
Around that time Jack began to appear in his dreams, Jack as he had first seen him, curely-headed and smiling and bucktoothed, talking about getting up and balaced the log was there as well, in a cartoon shape and lurid colors that gave the dreams a flavor of comic obscenity. The spoon handle was the kind that could be used as a tire iron. And he would wake sometimes in grief, sometimes with the old sense of joy and release; the pillow sometimes wet. sometimes the sheets.
There was some open space between what he knew and what he tried to belive, but nothing could be done about it, and if you can't fix it you've got to stand it.引自 ending
……for what they'd said was no news. Nothing ended, nothing begun, nothing resolved. What Jack remembered and craved in a way he could neither help nor understand was the time that distant summer on Brokeback when Ennis had come up behind him and pulled him close, the silent embrace satisfying some shared and sexless hunger. They had stood that way for a long time in front of the fire, its bur...
2018-01-08 22:581人喜欢
……for what they'd said was no news. Nothing ended, nothing begun, nothing resolved.
What Jack remembered and craved in a way he could neither help nor understand was the time that distant summer on Brokeback when Ennis had come up behind him and pulled him close, the silent embrace satisfying some shared and sexless hunger.
They had stood that way for a long time in front of the fire, its burning tossing ruddy chunks of light, the shadow of their bodies a single column against the rock. The minutes ticked by from the round watch in Ennis's pocket, from the sticks in the fire settling into coals. Stars bit through the wavy heat layers above the fire. Ennis's breath came slow and quiet, he hummed, rocked a little in the sparklight and Jack leaned against the steady heartbeat, the vibrations of the humming like faint electricity and, standing, he fell into sleep that was not sleep but something else drowsy and tranced until Ennis, dredging up a rusty but still useable phrase from the childhood time before his mother died, said, "Time to hit the hay, cowboy. I got a go. Come on, you're sleepin on your feet like a horse," and gave Jack a shake, a push, and went off in the darkness. Jack heard his spurs tremble as he mounted, the words "see you tomorrow," and the horse's shuddering snort, grind of hoof on stone.
Later, that dozy embrace solidified in his memory as the single moment of artless, charmed happiness in their separate and difficult lives. Nothing marred it, even the knowledge that Ennis would not then embrace him face to face because he did not want to see nor feel that it was Jack he held. And maybe, he thought, they'd never got much farther than that. Let be, let be.
One thing never changed: the brilliant charge of their infrequent couplings was darkened by the sense of time flying, never enough time, never enough. "Try this one," said Jack, " and I 'll say it just one time. Tell you what, we could had a good life together, a fucking good life. You wouldn't do it, Ennis, so what we got now is Brokeback Mountain. Everything built on that. It's all we got, bo...
2015-01-19 15:351人喜欢
One thing never changed: the brilliant charge of their infrequent couplings was darkened by the sense of time flying, never enough time, never enough.
"Try this one," said Jack, " and I 'll say it just one time. Tell you what, we could had a good life together, a fucking good life. You wouldn't do it, Ennis, so what we got now is Brokeback Mountain. Everything built on that. It's all we got, boy, fucking all, so I hope you know that if you don't never know the rest. Count the damn few times we have been together in twenty years."
There was some open space between what he knew and what he tried to believe, but nothing could be done about it, and if you can't fix it you've got to stand it.
What Jack remembered and craved in a way he could neither help nor understand was the time that distant summer on Brokeback when Ennis had come up behind him and pulled him close, the silent embrace satisfying some shared and sexless hunger. They had stood that way for a long time in front of the fire, its burning tossing ruddy chunks of light, the shadow of their bodies a single column against...(2回应)
2012-05-11 15:527人喜欢
What Jack remembered and craved in a way he could neither help nor
understand was the time that distant summer on Brokeback when Ennis had
come up behind him and pulled him close, the silent embrace satisfying some
shared and sexless hunger.
They had stood that way for a long time in front of the fire, its burning tossing
ruddy chunks of light, the shadow of their bodies a single column against the
rock. The minutes ticked by from the round watch in Ennis's pocket, from the
sticks in the fire settling into coals. Stars bit through the wavy heat layers above
the fire. Ennis's breath came slow and quiet, he hummed, rocked a little in the
sparklight and Jack leaned against the steady heartbeat, the vibrations of the
humming like faint electricity and, standing, he fell into sleep that was not sleep
but something else drowsy and tranced until Ennis, dredging up a rusty but still
useable phrase from the childhood time before his mother died, said, "Time to
hit the hay, cowboy. I got a go. Come on, you're sleepin on your feet like a
horse," and gave Jack a shake, a push, and went off in the darkness. Jack heard
his spurs tremble as he mounted, the words "see you tomorrow," and the
horse's shuddering snort, grind of hoof on stone.
Later, that dozy embrace solidified in his memory as the single moment of
artless, charmed happiness in their separate and difficult lives. Nothing marred
it, even the knowledge that Ennis would not then embrace him face to face
because he did not want to see nor feel that it was Jack he held. And maybe, he
thought, they'd never got much farther than that. Let be, let be.引自第21页
Just like Makoto Shinkai put in his movie, "Thousands of mails and messages didn't shorten the distance between their hearts, not even for one millemeter."
And he would wake sometimes in grief, sometimes with the old sense of joy and release; the pillow sometimes wet, sometimes the sheets. There was some open space between what he knew and what he tried to believe, but nothing could be done about it, and if you can't fix it you've got to stand it. 看到的中文翻译感觉更有味道。
2014-04-14 23:41
And he would wake sometimes in grief, sometimes with the old sense of joy and release; the pillow sometimes wet, sometimes the sheets.
There was some open space between what he knew and what he tried to believe, but nothing could be done about it, and if you can't fix it you've got to stand it.引自第75页
Within a mile Ennis felt like someone was pulling his guts out hand over hand a yard at a time. He stopped at the road and, in the whirling new snow, tried to puke but nothing came up. He felt about as bad as he ever had and it took a long time for the feeling to wear off.
2017-11-08 22:46
Within a mile Ennis felt like someone was pulling his guts out hand over hand a yard at a time. He stopped at the road and, in the whirling new snow, tried to puke but nothing came up. He felt about as bad as he ever had and it took a long time for the feeling to wear off.
"That summer," said Ennis."When we split up after we got paid out I had gut cramps so bad i pulled over and tried to puke, thought I ate somethin bad at that place in Dubois. took me about a year a figure out it was that I shouldn't a let you out a my sights. Too late when by a long, long while."
2017-11-08 22:50
"That summer," said Ennis."When we split up after we got paid out I had gut cramps so bad i pulled over and tried to puke, thought I ate somethin bad at that place in Dubois. took me about a year a figure out it was that I shouldn't a let you out a my sights. Too late when by a long, long while."
“You’re too much for me, Ennis, you son of a whoreson bitch. I wish I knew how to quit you.” Like vast clouds of steam from thermal springs in winter the years of things unsaid and now unsayable—admissions, declarations, shames, guilts, fears—rose around them. Ennis stood as if heart-shot, face grey and deep-lined, grimacing, eyes screwed shut, fists clenched, legs caving, hit the ground o...
2020-04-04 21:12
“You’re too much for me, Ennis, you son of a whoreson bitch. I wish I knew how to quit you.”
Like vast clouds of steam from thermal springs in winter the years of things unsaid and now unsayable—admissions, declarations, shames, guilts, fears—rose around them. Ennis stood as if heart-shot, face grey and deep-lined, grimacing, eyes screwed shut, fists clenched, legs caving, hit the ground on his knees.
He pressed his face into the fabric and breathed in slowly through his mouth and nose, hoping for the faintest smoke and mountain sage and salty sweet stink of Jack but there was no real scent, only the memory of it, the imagined power of Brokeback Mountain of which nothing was left but what he held in his hands.
2020-04-04 21:08
He pressed his face into the fabric and breathed in slowly through his mouth and nose, hoping for the faintest smoke and mountain sage and salty sweet stink of Jack but there was no real scent, only the memory of it, the imagined power of Brokeback Mountain of which nothing was left but what he held in his hands.
0 有用 思夏 2009-05-12
书比电影好看。
4 有用 深海的心 2012-06-05
显然,李安超发挥了。不过文字描写衬衫那一段更有催泪效果。
0 有用 不一 2009-06-13
我什么时候才能拥有实物
1 有用 博格达梦落 2013-11-22
到现在,五年过去了,哪怕只是想到这个名字。心里还是会酸痛。他在早晨醒来,有时裤裆湿了,有时枕头湿了。
1 有用 沉水 2008-09-24
其实……是俺英文太烂,太多词认不得= =悲情不来啊……
0 有用 片.儿.川 2020-12-21
Wyoming became a wonderland and homeland for me.
0 有用 大头考拉 2020-12-02
@2009-03-02 16:23:29
0 有用 大头考拉 2020-12-01
@2009-03-02 16:23:29
0 有用 茶姐姐治愈花园 2020-11-07
《断背山》是Annie Proux短篇小说集中的一篇,原本默默无闻,没想到被李安挑中后大放异彩。原著是粗犷的,电影是细腻的。原著是作者白描手法,而电影是在这个故事中填满了丰富的情感。爱原著,爱电影。
0 有用 菲菲菲 2020-09-02
He pressed his face into the fabric and breathed in slowly through his mouth and nose, hoping for the faintest smoke and mountain sage and salty sweet stink of Jack, but there was no real scent, only ... He pressed his face into the fabric and breathed in slowly through his mouth and nose, hoping for the faintest smoke and mountain sage and salty sweet stink of Jack, but there was no real scent, only the memory of it, the imagined power of Brokeback Mountain of which nothing was left but what he held in his hands. (展开)