诺贝尔文学经典:《宠儿》第4章Part 11

And O my people they do not love your hands. Those they only use, tie, bind,chop off and leave empty. Love your hands! Love them. Raise them up and kiss them. Touchothers with them, pat them together, stroke them on your face 'cause they don't love that either.
You got to love it, you! And no, they ain't in love with your mouth. Yonder, out there, they willsee it broken and break it again. What you say out of it they will not heed. What you scream fromit they do not hear. What you put into it to nourish your body they will snatch away and give youleavins instead. No, they don't love your mouth. You got to love it. This is flesh I'm talking abouthere. Flesh that needs to be loved. Feet that need to rest and to dance; backs that need support;shoulders that need arms, strong arms I'm telling you. And O my people, out yonder, hear me, theydo not love your neck unnoosed and straight. So love your neck; put a hand on it, grace it, stroke itand hold it up. And all your inside parts that they'd just as soon slop for hogs, you got to love dark, dark liver — love it, love it, and the beat and beating heart, love that too. More than eyes or feet.
More than lungs that have yet to draw free air. More than your life holding womb and your life-giving private parts, hear me now, love your heart. For this is the prize." Saying no more, she stoodup then and danced with her twisted hip the rest of what her heart had to say while the othersopened their mouths and gave her the music. Long notes held until the four-part harmony wasperfect enough for their deeply loved flesh.
Sethe wanted to be there now. At the least to listen to the spaces that the long-ago singing had leftbehind. At the most to get a clue from her husband's dead mother as to what she should do with hersword and shield now, dear Jesus, now nine years after Baby Suggs, holy, proved herself a liar,dismissed her great heart and lay in the keeping-room bed roused once in a while by a craving forcolor and not for another thing.
"Those white things have taken all I had or dreamed," she said, "and broke my heartstrings too. There is no bad luck in the world but whitefolks." 124 shut down and put up with the venom of itsghost. No more lamp all night long, or neighbors dropping by. No low conversations after watched barefoot children playing in the shoes of strangers. Baby Suggs, holy, believed shehad lied. There was no grace-imaginary or real — and no sunlit dance in a Clearing could changethat. Her faith, her love, her imagination and her great big old heart began to collapse twenty-eightdays after her daughter-in-law arrived.
Yet it was to the Clearing that Sethe determined to go — to pay tribute to Halle. Before the lightchanged, while it was still the green blessed place she remembered: misty with plant steam and thedecay of berries.
She put on a shawl and told Denver and Beloved to do likewise. All three set out late one Sundaymorning, Sethe leading, the girls trotting behind, not a soul in sight.

噢我的子民，他们不爱你的双手。他们只将它们奴役、捆绑、砍断，让它们一无所获。爱你的手吧!热爱它们。举起它们，亲吻它们。用它们去抚摸别人，让它们相互拍打，让它们拍打你的脸，因为他们不爱你的脸。
你得去爱它，你！不，他们也不爱你的嘴。那边，远在那边，他们看见它流血还要在伤口上再戳一刀。他们不关心你嘴里说出些什么。他们听不见你嘴里尖叫的声音。他们会夺去你吃进嘴里滋养身体的东西而代之以渣滓。不，他们不爱你的嘴。你得去爱它。我在这里谈的是肉体。需要人爱的肉体。需要休息和跳舞的脚；需要支撑的后背；需要臂膊的肩膀，我说的是结实的臂膊。噢我的子民，远在那边，听我说，他们不爱你不带绞索的挺直的脖子，所以爱你的脖子吧；把一只手放上去，给它增色，拍打它，把它扶正。还有你所有的内脏，他们会一股脑扔给猪吃，你得去爱它们。深色的、深色的肝———爱它，爱它，还有怦怦跳动的心，也爱它。比眼睛比脚更热爱。
比呼吸自由空气的肺更热爱。比你保存生命的子宫和你创造生命的私处更热爱。现在听我说，爱你的心。因为这才是价值所在。”然后，她不再多说一句，站起身，用扭动的臀部舞出她的心想说的其他部位，大家张开嘴为她伴奏。悠长的曲调持续着，直到四部和声完美得足以同他们深爱的肉体相匹配。
现在塞丝想去那里。至少去聆听那久远的歌声留在身后的余韵。多则呢，她想从她丈夫死去的母亲那里得到一个线索，问问她现在该拿她的剑和盾怎么办。亲爱的耶稣啊，自从圣贝比·萨格斯露出骗子本色，丢弃了她那颗伟大的心脏，躺在起居室的床上，仅仅出于对颜色的渴望才不时醒来一回，到现在已经整整九年了。
“那些白鬼夺走了我拥有和梦想的一切，”她说，“还扯断了我的心弦。这个世界上除了白人没有别的不幸。”124号关上了门，去忍受那鬼魂的胡作非为。再没有灯火通明，没有邻居来访。没有晚饭后低声的谈话。没有人在那儿看光脚丫的孩子们穿着陌生人的鞋子玩耍。圣贝比·萨格斯认定，是她自己撒了谎。恩赐根本不存在———不论想象的还是真实的———而“林间空地”上阳光中的舞蹈丝毫不能改变这个事实。她的忠诚、她的爱、她的想像力和她那颗伟大的大心，在她的儿媳妇到来之后的第二十八天开始崩溃。
然而塞丝还是决定到“林间空地”上去———去祭奠黑尔。在真相曝光之前，那里一直是她记忆中的绿色圣地：植物的蒸汽和莓子的腐败气味弥漫其上。
她披上披肩，又让丹芙和宠儿也一样披上。三个人在一个星期六的早晨出门了，塞丝领头，姑娘们紧随其后，视野中不见一个人影。