现代大学英语精读第二版（第二册）学习笔记（原文及全文翻译）——16B - The Last Word Was Love（最后的落款是“爱你们的”）

Unit 16B - The Last Word Was Love

The Last Word Was Love

William Saroyan

A long time ago when I was eleven my mother and my father had a prolonged quarrel.

The quarrel picked up the minute my father got home from work at Graff's, where he was a forty-seven-year-old assistant—to everybody.

Graff's sold everything from food to ready-made clothing, animal traps, and farm implements.

My father had taken the job only for the daily wage of three dollars, which he received in coin at the end of every twelve-hour day.

He didn't mind the nature of the work, even though his profession was teaching,

and, he didn't care that it might end at any moment, without notice.

He'd already had the job six months, from late summer to early spring, when the quarrel began to get on my brother's nerve.

I didn't even begin to notice the quarrel until Ralph pointed it out to me.

I admired him so much that I joined him in finding fault with my mother and father.

First, though, I'd better describe the quarrel, if that's possible.

To begin with, there was my mother running the house, and there was my father working at Graff's.

There was my brother, Ralph, at the top of his class at high school.

There I was near the bottom of my class at junior high.

And there was our nine-year-old sister, Rose, just enjoying life without any fuss.

All I can say about my mother is that she was a woman—to me a very beautiful one.

She had a way of moving very quickly from a singing-and-laughing gladness to a silent-and-dark discontent that bothered my father.

I remember hearing him say to her again and again, "Ann, what is it?"

Alas, the question was always useless, making my mother cry and my father leave the house.

During the long quarrel my father seemed hopelessly perplexed and outwitted by something unexpected and unwelcome,

which he was determined nevertheless to control and banish.

My brother, Ralph, graduated from high school and took a summertime job in a vineyard.

He rode eleven miles to the vineyard on his bicycle every morning soon after daybreak and back again a little before dark every evening.

His wages were twenty-five cents an hour, and he put in at least ten hours a day.

Early in September he had saved a little more than a hundred dollars.

Early one morning he woke me up.

"I want to say good-bye now," he said. "I'm going to San Francisco."

"What for?"

"I can't stay here any more."

Except for the tears in his eyes, I believe I would have said, "Well, good luck, Ralph," but the tears made that impossible.

He was as big as my father.

The suit he was wearing was my father's, which my mother had altered for him.

What were the tears for?

Would I have them in my own eyes in a moment, too, after all the years of imitating him to never have them,

and having succeeded except for the two or three times I had let them go when I had been alone, and nobody knew?

And if the tears came into my eyes, too, what would they be for?

Everything I knew I'd learned from my brother, not from school, and everything he knew he'd learned from my father.

So now what did we know? What did my father know? What did my brother? What did I?

I got out of bed and jumped into my clothes and went outside to the backyard.

Under the old sycamore tree was the almost completed raft my brother and I had been making in our spare time,

to launch one day soon on Kings River.

"I'll finish it alone," I thought. "I'll float down Kings River alone."

My brother came out of the house quietly, holding an old straw suitcase.

"I'll finish the raft," I said.

I believed my brother would say something in the same casual tone of voice, and then turn and walk away, and that would be that.

Instead, though, he set the suitcase down and came to the raft.

He stepped onto it and sat down, as if we'd just launched the raft and were sailing down Kings River.

He put his hand over the side, as if into the cold water of Kings River,

and he looked around, as if the raft were passing between vineyards and orchards.

After a moment he got up, stepped out of the raft, and picked up the suitcase.

There were no tears in his eyes now, but he just couldn't say good-bye.

For a moment I thought he was going to give up the idea of leaving home and go back to bed.

Instead, he said, "I'll never go into that house again."

"Do you hate them? Is that why?"

"No," he said, but now he began to cry, as if he were eight or nine years old, not almost seventeen.

I picked up the raft, tipped it over, and jumped on it until some of the boards we had so carefully nailed together broke.

Then I began to run. I didn't turn around to look at him again.

I ran and walked all the way to where we had planned to launch the raft, about six miles.

I sat on the riverbank and tried to think.

It didn't do any good, though. I just didn't understand, that's all.

When I got home it was after eleven in the morning, I was very hungry, and I wanted to sit down and eat.

My father was at his job at Graff's.

My sister was out of the house, and my mother didn't seem to want to look at me.

She put food on the table—more than usual—, so I was pretty sure she knew something, or at any rate suspected.

At last she said, "Who smashed the raft?" "I did."

"I got mad at my brother."

"Why?"

"I just got mad."

"Eat your food."

She went into the living room, and I ate my food.

When I went into the living room she was working at the sewing machine with another of my father's suits.

"This one's for you," she said.

"When can I wear it?"

"Next Sunday. It's one of your father's oldest, when he was slimmer. It'll be a good fit. Do you like it?" "Yes."

She put the work aside and tried to smile, and then did, a little.

"She doesn't know what's happened," I thought.

And then I thought, "Maybe she does, and this is the way she is."

"Your brother's bike is in the garage," she said. "Where's he?"

"On his way to San Francisco."

"Where have you been?”

"I took a walk."

"A long walk?" "Yes."

"Why?" "I wanted to be alone."

My mother waited a moment and then she said, "Why is your brother on his way to San Francisco?"

"Because—" But I just couldn't tell her.

"It's all right," she said. "Tell me."

"Because you and Pop fight so much."

"Fight? " "Yes."

"Do we?" my mother said.

"I don't know. Are you going to make him come home? Is Pop going to go and get him?" NO.

"Does he know?"

"Yes. He told me."

"When?"

"Right after you ran off, and your brother began to walk to the depot. Your father saw the whole thing."

"Didn't he want to stop him?"

"No. Now, go out and repair the raft."

I worked hard every day and finished the raft in two weeks.

One evening my father helped me get it onto a truck he'd hired.

We drove to Kings River, launched it, and sailed down the river about twelve miles.

My father brought a letter out of his pocket and read it out loud.

It was addressed to Dear Mother and Father.

All it said was Ralph had found a job he liked, and was going to go to college when the fall semester began, and was well and happy.

The last word of the letter was love.

My father handed me the letter and I read the word for myself.

That Christmas my father sent me to San Francisco to spend a few days with my brother.

It was a great adventure for me, because my brother was so different now—

almost like my father, except that he lived in a furnished room, not in a house full of people.

He wanted to know about the raft, so I told him I'd sailed it and had put it away for the winter.

"You come down next summer and we'll sail it together, the way we'd planned," I said.

"No," he said, "We've already sailed it together. It's all yours now."

My own son is sixteen years old now, and has made me aware lately that his mother and I have been quarreling for some time.

Nothing new, of course—the same general quarrel—but neither his mother nor I had ever before noticed that it annoyed him.

Later on this year, or perhaps next year, I know he's going to have a talk with his younger brother, and then take off.

I want to be ready when that happens, so I can keep his mother from trying to stop him.

He's a good boy, and I don't mind at all that he thinks I've made a mess of my life, which is one thing he is not going to do.

Of course he isn't. "

参考译文——最后的落款是“爱你们的”

最后的落款是“爱你们的”

威廉·萨洛扬

很久以前，在我11岁的时候，我爸妈之间发生了一场持续了很长时间的争吵。

每当爸爸从格拉夫商店下班回到家，争吵就开始了。在格拉夫商店工作时，他是个47岁的助理，给其他所有店员跑腿。

格拉夫商店什么都卖，从食品到成衣，从动物捕捉器到农具。

爸爸在那里工作只为了赚每天3美元的工资，每天工作12个小时后，他都可以领到硬帀。

他不介意这份工作的性质，尽管他的专业是老师，

他也不介意随时可能在毫无预告的情况下被人解雇。

他做这份工作已经6个月了，从去年夏末到今年初春，哥哥拉尔夫开始为他们的争吵感到烦恼。

但是，我却一直没有注意到父母吵架的事，直到拉尔夫告诉我。

我一直非常敬佩他，我跟着他一起开始挑爸妈的毛病。

不过现在，如果可能的话，我想最好先来描述一下这场争吵。

首先，妈妈操持整个家庭，爸爸在格拉夫商店打工。

哥哥拉尔夫在高中班上名列前茅。

而我在读初中，成绩在班上基本上是垫底的。

我们有个9岁大的妹妹罗丝，她无忧无虑地过着日子。

对于妈妈，我所能说的一切就是，在我眼里她是一个非常漂亮的女人。

她可以瞬间由兴高采烈变得沉默不满，而爸爸常常因此事而烦恼。

我记得我总是听到爸爸在一遍又一遍地问她：“安，怎么了？”

唉！这个问题总是没有任何用处，结果总是妈妈哭起来，而爸爸离家而去。

在长时间的争吵中，爸爸看起来是那么困惑无助，他经常被突如其来的讨厌的事情搞得不知所措，

不过他已决心要加以控制，不让此类事情发生。

我哥哥拉尔夫高中毕业后找到一份葡萄园的暑期工。

他每天早上天一亮就骑车11英里去葡萄园，傍晚天黑前才回来。

他的薪水是每小时25美分，他一天至少要工作10个小时。

9月初的时候，他已经攒了100多美元了。

一天早晨，他把我弄醒。

“现在我要跟你道别了，”他说，“我打算去旧金山。”

“去干吗？”

“我不能再呆在这里了。”

要不是因为他眼睛里的泪水，我想我会对他说：“好吧，祝你好运，拉尔夫”，但泪水使我没能那么说。

他已经和爸爸一样高大了。

他穿的那件外套就是爸爸的，只是妈妈为他改了一下。

他为何流泪呢？

这么多年，我学他，从不掉泪，而且我成功地做到了这一点，

除了有那么两三次我独自一人时流过泪，但是没有人知道。此时，我会马上就让自己掉眼泪吗？

如果我也哭，那么理由是什么呢？

我所知道的一切都是从哥哥那里而不是从学校学来的，而他所知道的一切都是从爸爸那里学来的。

那么现在我们知道了什么？爸爸知道了什么？哥哥知道了什么？我又知道了什么呢？

我下了床，匆匆穿好衣服走到后院。

在老梧桐树下放着即将做成的木筏，我和哥哥利用空闲时间一直在做。

我们原本准备不久后在金斯河划着它试水。

“我会自己完成它的，”我想，“我要自己划着木筏在金斯河上漂流而下。”

哥哥悄悄地走出家门，手里提着个旧的草编衣箱。

“我会把木筏做完的，”我说。

我相信哥哥也会以同样轻松的口吻跟我说些什么，然后转身而去，仅此而已。

然而，他却放下手提箱，走向木筏。

他迈进去坐了下来，似乎我们已经把木筏放入水里正在金斯河上漂流一样。

他的手放在一边，就像是放在冰冷的金斯河水中一样，

然后他环顾四周，就像木筏从葡萄园和果树园之间经过。

过了一会儿，他站起身来，走下木枝，提起了箱子。

现在，虽然他的眼里没有泪水，但他还是没有说出“再见”。

有那么一刻，我觉得他要放弃离家出走的念头，会再回到床上去睡觉。

但是，他却说：“我再也不会踏进家门一步了。”

“你恨他们吗？是这个原因吗？”

“不，”他说，可是此刻他开始哭泣，就像是八九岁的孩子，不像是快满17岁的人。

我抬起木筏，把它翻了过来，在上面使劲地跳着，一直跳到被我们小心钉上去的木板都开始断裂了为止。

然后我跑开了，再也没有回头看他一眼。

一路上我连走带跑，一直走了大概6英里，来到我们计划放木筏下水的地方才停下来。

我坐在河边开始沉思。

但是没起任何作用，我就是不能理解，就是这样。

当我回到家时，已经是上午11点多了。我非常饿，想要坐下来吃点儿东西。

爸爸这时正在格拉夫商店上班，

妹妹在门外，妈妈的目光似乎在回避我。

她在往桌子上摆吃的——比平常摆得要多——因此我确定她已经知道了些什么，或者反正猜到了几分。

最后她说：“谁弄破了木筏？”“我。”

“那时我被哥哥气疯了。”

“为什么？”

“我只是被气疯了。”

“吃东西吧。”

她走进客厅，我吃我的饭。

当我走进客厅时，她正在缝纫机旁改爸爸的一件旧衣服。

“这件是你的，”她说。

“我什么时候能穿上？”

“下周日。这是你爸爸最旧的一件衣服之一，那时他还很瘦。你穿起来会很合身，喜欢吗？”“喜欢。”

她把衣服放到了一边，努力地笑了笑，结果真挤出一点儿笑容。

“她不知道发生了什么事情，”我想，

然后我转念一想，“也许她知道了，这只是她的一贯风格罢了。”

“你哥哥的自行车在车棚里，”她说，“他去哪儿了？”

“他在去旧金山的路上。”

“你又去哪儿了？”

“我出去散步了。”

“走了很远吗？”“是的。”

“为什么？”“我想一个人呆会儿。”

妈妈停了一会儿，然后说你哥哥为什么要去旧金山？”

“因为——”但我不能告诉她。

“没关系，”她说，“告诉我。”

“因为你和爸爸总是吵架。”

“吵架？”“是的。”

“我们有吗？”我妈妈问。

“我不知道。你们会把他找回来吗？爸爸是否会去找他？”“不。”

“爸爸知道这件事吗？”

“知道，是他告诉我的。”

“什么时候？”

“就在你跑开之后，你哥哥出发去车站的时候，你爸爸看到了整件事情。”

“难道他不想阻止哥哥吗？”

“不，他不想。好了，现在出去修一下木筏吧。”

我每天都很努力地工作，终于在两周内完成了木筏。

一天晚上，爸爸帮我把它抬到了他租来的卡车上。

我们开车到了金斯河，把它放下水，并且在河上漂流了大约12英里。

爸爸从口袋里拿出一封信并且大声地读了起来。

信的称呼是亲爱的爸爸妈妈。

信里写了拉尔夫找到了一份他喜欢的工作，并且他将在秋季学期开始自己的大学生活，他过得很好很开心之类的。

信最后的落款是“爱你们的”。

爸爸把信递给我，我亲眼看到了上面的落款。

那年的圣诞节爸爸把我送到旧金山让我和哥哥呆了几天。

这对我来说真是一段很棒的经历，因为哥哥现在已经很不同了

长得几乎跟爸爸一样，只不过他现在住在一个有家具的房间，而不是住在一个住满了人的房子。

他想知道关于木筏的事，我告诉他木筏已经下过水了，冬天我已经把它收了起来。

“你明年夏天回来，我们就可以一起撑木筏了，就像我们原来计划的那样，”我说。

“不，”他说，“我们已经一起航行过了，现在它是属于你的了。”

现在我自己的儿子已经6岁了。近来，他提醒我说，我和他妈妈一段时间以来一直在争吵。

没什么新鲜的——都是同样普通的争吵——但是他妈妈和我都没有意识到这已经使他很苦恼。

我知道，今年年底或者明年，他会告诉他弟弟这件事，并离家出走。

当那样的事情发生时，我想让自己有所准备。到时，我会力劝他妈妈不要试图阻止他。

他是一个好孩子，我根本不介意他认为我把自己的生活搞得一团糟，他自己是不会像我这样去生活的。

是的，他当然不会和我一样。

Key Words:

describe  [dis'kraib]      

vt. 描述，画(尤指几何图形)，说成

quarrel   ['kwɔrəl] 

n. 吵架，争论，怨言

vi. 吵架，争论，挑

fuss [fʌs]

n. 大惊小怪，小题大作，强烈不满或争吵

fault [fɔ:lt]      

n. 缺点，过失，故障，毛病，过错，[地]断层

nevertheless  [.nevəðə'les]  

adv. 仍然，不过

conj. 然而，不过

perplexed      [pə'plekst]     

adj. 困惑的，不知所措的 动词perplex的过去式

determined    [di'tə:mind]    

adj. 坚毅的，下定决心的

unexpected    ['ʌnik'spektid]

adj. 想不到的，意外的

discontent      [diskən'tent]  

n. 不满

adj. 不满的

control    [kən'trəul]      

n. 克制，控制，管制，操作装置

vt. 控制

banish    ['bæniʃ] 

vt. 驱逐，流放，消除

unwelcome    [ʌn'welkəm]  

adj. 不受欢迎的 n. 冷淡

altered    ['ɔ:ltəd]   

v. 改变（alter的过去分词） adj. 改变了的；

except     [ik'sept]  

vt. 除，除外

raft  [rɑ:ft]     

n. 筏，救生艇，大量 v. 乘筏，制成筏

tone       [təun]     

n. 音调，语气，品质，调子，色调

spare      [spɛə]     

adj. 多余的，闲置的，备用的，简陋的

suitcase  ['su:tkeis]

n. 手提箱

impossible     [im'pɔsəbl]    

adj. 不可能的，做不到的

raft  [rɑ:ft]     

n. 筏，救生艇，大量 v. 乘筏，制成筏

understand    [.ʌndə'stænd]

vt. 理解，懂，听说，获悉，将 ... 理解为，认为<

suitcase  ['su:tkeis]

n. 手提箱

annoyed       

adj. 恼怒的；烦闷的 v. 使烦恼；打扰（annoy

except     [ik'sept]  

vt. 除，除外

prep. & conj.

quarrel   ['kwɔrəl] 

n. 吵架，争论，怨言

vi. 吵架，争论，挑

raft  [rɑ:ft]     

n. 筏，救生艇，大量 v. 乘筏，制成筏

adventure      [əd'ventʃə]     

n. 冒险，奇遇

参考资料：

1. http://www.kekenet.com/daxue/201709/52408shtml
2. http://www.kekenet.com/daxue/201709/52408shtml
3. 现代大学英语精读(第2版)第二册:U16B The Last Word Was Love(3)_大学教材听力 - 可可英语
4. 现代大学英语精读(第2版)第二册:U16B The Last Word Was Love(4)_大学教材听力 - 可可英语
5. 现代大学英语精读(第2版)第二册:U16B The Last Word Was Love(5)_大学教材听力 - 可可英语
6. 现代大学英语精读(第2版)第二册:U16B The Last Word Was Love(6)_大学教材听力 - 可可英语
7. 现代大学英语精读(第2版)第二册:U16B The Last Word Was Love(7)_大学教材听力 - 可可英语