PART Ⅰ-3

  Therewasabombingplaneflyinglowoverhead.Foramiwoitseemedtobekeepingpacewiththetrain.Twovulgarkindofblokesinshabbyovercoats,obviouslyercialsofthelowesttype,neervassersprobably,weresittingoppositeme.OhemwasreadingtheMailaherwasreadingtheExpress.Icouldseebytheirmahatthey’dspottedmeforoheirkind.Upattheotherendofthecarriagetwolawyers’clerkswithblackbagswerekeepingupaversationfulloflegalbalohatwasmeanttoimpresstherestofusandshowthattheydidn’tbelongtotheonherd.

  Iwaswatgthebacksofthehousesslidingpast.ThelinefromWestBletchleyrunsmostofthewaythroughslums,butit’skindofpeaceful,theglimpsesyougetoflittlebackyardswithbitsofflowersstuboxesaroofswherethewomethewashingandthebird-cageonthewall.ThegreatblabingplaneswayedalittleintheairandzoomedaheadsothatIcould.Iwassittingwithmybacktotheengine.Oheercialscockedhiseyeatitforjustased.Iknewwhathewasthinking.Forthatmatterit’swhateverybodyelseisthinking.Youdon’thavetobeahighbrowtothinksuchthoughtsnowadays.Intwoyears’time,oneyear’stime,whatshallwebedoingwhenweseeohosethings?Makingadiveforthecellar,wettingswithfright.

  TheercialblokeputdownhisDailyMail.

  ‘Templegate’swinnerein,’hesaid.

  Thelawyers’clerksweresproutingsomelearaboutfee-simpleandpeppers.TheotherercialfeltinhiswaistcoatpocketandtookoutabentWoodbiiherpocketandthenleanedacrosstome.

  ‘Gotamatch,Tubby?’

  Ifeltformymatches.‘Tubby’,younotice.That’siing,really.ForaboutacoupleofmioppedthinkingaboutbombsahinkingaboutmyfigureasI’dstudieditinmybaththatm.

  It’squitetrueI’mtubby,infactmyupperhalfisalmostexactlytheshapeofatub.Butwhat’siing,Ithink,isthatmerelybecauseyouhappetlebitfat,almostanyone,evenatotal,stranger,willtakeitfraogiveyouaniamethat’saninsultingentonyourpersonalappearance.Supposeachapwasahunchbackorhadasquintorahare-lip—wouldyougivehimaniametoremindhimofit?Buteveryfatman’slabelledasamatterofcourse.I’mthetypethatpeopleautomaticallyslaponthebadpuntheribs,andnearlyallofthemthinkIlikeit.InevergointothesaloonbaroftheatPudley(Ipassthatwayonceaweekonbusiness)withoutthatassWaters,whotravelsfortheSeafoamSoappeoplebutwho’smoreorlessapermanenthesaloonbarofthe,proddiheribsandsingingout‘HereasheerhulkliespoorTomBowling!’whichisajokethebloodyfoolsinthebartiredof.Watershasgotafingerlikeabarofiron.Theyallthinkafatmahaveanyfeelings.

  Theercialtookanotherofmymatches,topickhisteethwith,andchuckedtheboxback.Thetrainwhizzedontoanire.DownbelowIgotaglimpseofabaker’svanandalongstringoflorriesloadedwitht.Thequeerthing,Iwasthinking,isthatinawaythey’rerightaboutfatmen.It’safactthatafatman,particularlyamanwho’sbeenfatfrombirth—fromchildhood,that’stosay—isn’tquitelikeothermen.Hegoesthroughhislifeonadifferentplane,asortoflight-edyplahoughinthecaseofblokesinside-showsatfairs,orinfayowentystoisn’tsomuchlightedyaslowfarce.I’vebeenbothfatandthininmylife,andIknowthedifferenessmakestoyouroutlook.Itkindofpreventsyoufromtakingthingstoohard.Idoubtwhetheramanwho’sneverbeenanythingbutfat,amanwho’sbeencalledFattyeversincehecouldwalk,evenknowsoftheexistenceofanyreallydeepemotions.Howcouldhe?He’sgotnoexperienceofsuchthings.He’teverbepresentatatragie,becauseasewherethere’safatmaisn’ttragic,it’sic.JustimagiHamlet,forinstance!OrOliverHardyagRomeo.FunnilyenoughI’dbeenthinkingsomethingofthekindonlyafewdaysearlierwhenIwasreadinganovelI’dgotoutofBoots.WastedPassion,itwascalled.Thechapioryfindsoutthathisgirlhasgoneoffwithanotherchap.He’sohesechapsyoureadaboutihathavepalesensitivefaddarkhairandaprivateine.Iremembermoreorlesshowthepassagewent:

  Davidpacedupanddowntheroom,hishandspressedtohisforehead.Thenewsseemedtohavestunnedhim.Foralongtimehecouldnotbelieveit.Sheilauohim!Itcouldnotbe!Suddenlyrealizationrushedoverhim,ahefaallitsstarkhorror.Itwastoomuch.Heflunghimselfdoaroxysmofweeping.

  Anyway,itwentsomethinglikethat.Ahetimeitstartedmethinking.Thereyouhaveit,yousee.That’showpeople—somepeople—areexpectedtobehave.Buthowaboutachaplikeme?SupposeHildawentoffforaweek-endwithsomebodyelse--notthatI’dcareadamn,infactitwouldratherpleasemetofindthatshe’dstillgotthatmuchkickleftinher—butsupposeIdidcare,wouldIflingmyselfdoaroxysmofweeping?Wouldanyoneexpectmeto?Youcouldn’t,withafigurelikemiwouldbedhtobse.

  Thetrainwasrunningalonganemba.Alittlebelowusyoucouldseetheroofsofthehousesstretgonandoleredroofswherethebombsaregoingtodrop,abitlightedupatthismomentbecausearayofsunshinewascatgthem.Funnyhowwekeeponthinkingaboutbombs.Ofcoursethere’sionthatit’singsoon.Youtellhowcloseitisbythecheer-upstuffthey’retalkingaboutitintheneer.IwasreadingapietheNewsicletheotherdaywhereitsaidthatbombingplanes’tdoanydamagenowadays.Theanti-aircraftgunshavegotsogoodthatthebomberhastostayattwentythousahechapthinks,younotice,thatifanaeroplane’shighenoughthebombsdoheground.Ormorelikelywhathereallymeantwasthatthey’llmissWoolwichArsenalandonlyhitplaceslikeEllesmereRoad.

  Buttakingitbyandlarge,Ithought,it’snotsobadtobefat.Ohingaboutafatmanisthathe’salopular.There’sreallynokindofpany,frombookiestobishops,whereafatmafitinahome.Asforwomen,fatmenhavemoreluckwiththemthanpeopleseemtothink.It’sallbunktoimagine,assomepeopledo,thatawomanlooksonafatmanasjustajoke.ThetruthisthatawomalookonANYmanasajokeifhekidherthathe’sihher.

  Mindyou,Ihaven’talwaysbeenfat.I’vebeenfatfhtornineyears,andIsupposeI’vedevelopedmostofthecharacteristics.Butit’salsoafactthatinternally,mentally,I’mnotaltogetherfat.No!Don’tmistakeme.I’mntoputmyselfoverasakindoftenderflower,theagheartbehindthesmilingfadsoforth.Youcouldonintheinsurancebusinessifyouwereanythinglikethat.I’mvulgar,I’miive,andIfitinwithmyenviro.Solongasanywhereintheworldthingsarebeingsoldonissionandlivingsarepickedupbysheerbrassandlackoffinerfeelings,chapslikemewillbedoingit.InalmostallcircumstancesI’dmaomakealiving—alwaysalivingandneverafortune—andeveninwar,revolution,plague,andfamineI’dbackmyselftostayalivelohanmostpeople.I’mthattype.ButalsoI’vegotsomethingelseinsideme,chieflyahangoverfromthepast.I’lltellyouaboutthatlater.I’mfat,butI’mthininside.Hasiteverstruckyouthatthere’sathinmaninsideeveryfatman,justastheysaythere’sastatueinsideeveryblockofstone?

  Thechapwho’dborrowedmymatcheswashavingagoodpickathisteethovertheExpress.

  ‘Legscasedoogetmuchforrader,’hesaid.

  ‘They’ll‘im,’saidtheother.‘‘Owcouldyouidentifyapairoflegs?They’reallthebleedingsame,aren’tthey?’

  ‘Mighttrace‘imthroughthepieceofpaper‘eed‘emupin,’saidthefirst.

  Downbelowyoucouldseetheroofsofthehousesstretgonandon,twistingthiswayandthatwiththestreets,butstretgonandon,likeanenormousplainthatyoucouldhaveriddenover.WhicheverwayyoucrossLondonit’stwentymilesofhousesalmostwithoutabreak.Christ!howthebombersmissuswhentheye?We’rejustobigbull’s-eye.Andn,probably.Becausewho’sgoingtobesuchabloodyfoolastodeclarewarnowadays?IfIwasHitlerI’dsendmybombersacrossinthemiddleofadisarmamentferenequietm,whentheclerksarestreamingacrossLonde,andtheary’ssinging,andtheoldeggingthebloomersontheline—zoom,whizz,plonk!Housesgoingupintotheair,bloomerssoakedwithblood,arysingingonabovethecorpses.

  Seemsapitysomehow,Ithought.Ilookedatthegreatseaofroofsstretgonandon.Milesandmilesofstreets,fried-fishshops,tinchapels,picturehouses,littleprinting-shopsupbackalleys,factories,blocksofflats,whelkstalls,dairies,powerstations—onandonandon.Enormous!Andthepeacefulnessofit!Likeagreatwildernesswithnowildbeasts.Nogunsfiring,nobodychugpineapples,nobodybeatinganybodyelseupwitharubbertrun.Ifyouetothinkofit,inthewholeofEnglandatthismomentthereprobablyisn’tasinglebedroomwindowfromwhiyone’sfiringamae-gun.

  Buthowaboutfiveyearsfromnow?Ortwoyears?Oroneyear?松语文学www.16sy.coM免费小说阅读

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