评论
打印
On Monday, without saying anything, Bryan slid two folders across the table towards her as if he did not want to come near her, did not want to talk to her. She wanted to say, "I won't take them till you hand them to me politely." But smarting, she said, "Thank you very much." She had manners. She was well brought up.
周一，布莱恩什么都没说，就把两个文件夹从桌子上滑给了她，好像他不想要靠近她，不想和她说话一样。她想说：“如果你不礼貌地把它们递到我的手上，我就不接它们。”但她足够聪明，她说：“非常感谢。”她很有礼貌，很有教养。
Back in her room, at her desk, the clearest handwriting she had ever seen. Sparse on the pages, clean. Clear and rounded like a child's, the tidiest notes. She cried over them, wept for no reason. She cried until she wetted pages, smudged the ink, blurred one of the formulas. She dabbed at it with a tissue but the paper flaked and became transparent. Should she apologize about the stain, say she was drinking water, say that it was rain? Or should she just keep quiet, hope he wouldn't notice? She chided herself for all that concern. He wasn't concerned about wearing the same shirt every day. She was giving him too much attention thinking about him. He was just an immature and closed-in sort of character. He probably came from a small town, his parents were probably poor, low-class. In Khartoum she never mixed with people like that. Her mother liked her to be friends with people who were higher up. How else were she and her sisters going to marry well? She must study the notes and stop crying over this boy's handwriting. His iting had nothing to do with her, nothing to do with her at all.
莎迪雅回到家，在她的桌子上，她看到了迄今为止最为清晰的笔记，字迹清晰，也是最整洁的笔记。她一直在哭，直到她的泪水弄湿了一页纸，墨水变成了污痕，一个方程式因此变得模糊不清。她用纸巾轻轻地擦拭，结果，纸被蹭薄了，变得透明了。应不应该为笔记上的污痕道歉呢？说她在喝水，或者因为下雨？又或者她干脆保持缄默，寄希望于他没有发现？她孩子般地考虑了所有的可能。他从来都没有意识到他每天都穿着同一件衬衫。她总是很关注他。他就是一个幼稚且自我封闭的人。他可能来自于一个小地方，他的父母可能很穷，是下层社会的人。在喀土穆，她从未和这样阶层的人打过交道。她妈妈希望她结交社会地位高的朋友。希望她和她的姐妹们都能嫁得很好。她必须好好研究笔记，停止对着这个男孩的笔记哭泣。他的笔记和她一点关系都没有，对她来说什么都不是。
Understanding after not understanding is fog lifting, pictures swinging into focus, missing pieces slotting into place. It is fragments gelling, a sound vivid whole, a basis to build on. His notes were the knowledge she needed, the gap filled. She struggled through them, not skimming them with the carelessness of incomprehension, but taking them in, making them a part of her, until in the depth of concentration, in the late hours of the nights, she lost awareness d place, and at last, when she slept she became epsilon and gamma, and she became a variable.
不理解之后的理解犹如云开雾散，图片摇摇摆摆地终于聚焦了，找不到的碎片也都一一归位了。碎片凝聚成一个完整而生动的整体，一个能够建造建筑的地基。他的笔记是她所需要的知识，是她需要填补的空白。她努力地阅读那些笔记，不是粗枝大叶不求甚解地略读，而是完全彻底地吸收，把笔记变成自身的一部分，直到在最深层的精神集中点，在深沉的夜里，她完全失去了时空概念，全然不知身处何时何地，最后，当她睡着了时，她自己变成了统计学中的符号和变量。
It felt natural to talk to him. As if now that she had spent hours and days with his handwriting, she knew him in some way. She forgot the offence she had taken when he had slid his folders across the table to her, all the times he didn't say hello.
现在和他说话感觉自在了一点。正如她已经花费了几天的时间研读他的笔记，她稍微对他有了一些了解。她忘记了他把笔记从桌子上滑给她时的冒犯，以及从来都不对她打招呼。
