I can still remember my first sex education class at the school in Britain. My classmates and I were all about 11, and our introduction to “the birds and bees” was initially a video showing a family playing badminton at a nudist resort.
我还记得在英国学校上的第一堂性教育课。我和我的同学们当时大约11岁,我们的性教育启蒙课程就是观看了一段一家人裸体打羽毛球的视频。
Our teacher followed this by reading a carefully prepared list of dos and don’ts – although, as I went to a Roman Catholic school, the list was almost entirely made up of don’ts.
接着,老师念了一份精心准备的清单,上面列着一些规则和禁忌——不过,因为我读的是罗马天主教学校,所以清单上几乎只有禁忌。
That lesson was not the first time we’d learned about sex; our parents had been feeding us information over the years. But I recall the giggling that emanated from every corner of the class as we watched that video, prompting the teacher every few minutes to shout, “Oh just grow up!”
这一课不是我们第一次接受性教育;这些年来,我们的父母一直在给我们灌输知识。但我记得,我们观看视频时,教室里所有人都在咯咯地笑,老师每隔几分钟就得喊一声:“别这么幼稚!”
It was possibly the most awkward moment of my life.
这可能是我这辈子最尴尬的时刻。
Twenty-five years later, in summer 2014, I realized I was experiencing the same exact feeling I had during that class while sitting in the Beijing National Library Concert Hall.
25年之后,也就是2014年的夏天,我坐在北京的国家图书馆艺术中心里,再一次经历了同样的感受。
I’d been watching a live recording of Shakespeare’s Coriolanus as part of a National Theater Live event. About two-thirds in was a scene in which exiled Roman warrior Caius Marcius, the central character played by British heartthrob Tom Hiddlestone, pledges his sword to frienemy Aufidius in order to wreak revenge on the people who forced him out of Rome.
当时我在欣赏莎士比亚的悲剧《科里奥兰纳斯》(Coriolanus)的现场录制版,这是英国国家剧院现场系列(National Theater Live)的一部分。演出进行到三分之二时,主角由英国万人迷演员汤姆·希丁斯顿(Tom Hiddlestone)扮演,场景是被流放的罗马战士卡厄斯·马歇斯(Caius Marcius)宣誓效忠于亦敌亦友的奥菲狄乌斯(Aufidius),以此报复那些将他逐出罗马的人。
In accepting the offer, the actor playing Aufidius kissed Hiddlestone full on the mouth, which sparked uproarious laughter from the mostly Chinese audience.
在接受他的效忠时,扮演奥菲狄乌斯的演员亲吻了希丁斯顿的嘴巴,这一举动引得场中许多中国观众哄堂大笑。
“Why are people laughing?” I asked my wife, confused by the reaction to such a powerful scene. “This guy is agreeing to slaughter everyone in Rome,” I said.
我问我的妻子,“大家为什么笑了?”这么有感染力的场景,得到的却是这般反应,我感到困惑不解。“这家伙可是同意了要屠杀罗马的所有人,”我说道。
Eventually, after catching her breath and wiping the tears from her eyes, she answered, “Because it’s just so gay!”
她调整呼吸,擦了擦眼泪,这才回答说:“因为这太像同性恋了!”
As the two actors on screen continued to spit verse, their faces an inch or so apart, the laughter continued, and I began to ask myself whether I was really watching a Shakespearean tragedy or had accidentally wandered into Stephen Chow’s latest comedy.
银幕上的两位演员还在吟诵诗句,他们的脸相距只有一英寸左右,场内依旧是笑声不断。我开始怀疑自己,我看的是莎士比亚的悲剧,还是无意中错入了周星驰的最新喜剧片场。
I’m not sure why, but it felt like I’d been transported back to 1990 and was again surrounded by giggling 11 year olds, only this time it was me who wanted to shout “Oh just grow up!”
我不知道这种感觉从何而来,但我仿佛回到了1990年,又一次被咯咯笑的11岁小孩所包围,只不过这次想要大喊“别这么幼稚!”的人换成了我自己。
The laughing didn’t ruin the show for me, but it did break the tense atmosphere that the tragic work usually creates. It also proved once again that it’s always an education – if not entertaining – to see a play and film in a foreign country.
他们的笑声并没有破坏我观看演出的兴致,但确实打破了悲剧作品常有的紧张气氛。这些笑声再次证明,在国外观看戏剧和电影有时可能让人捧腹,但总是一种教育。
The first time I went to a movie theater in the United States - it was Austin Powers 2 in New York City - I remember being amazed when everyone started clapping at the end, as though the actors we about to come out and bow.
我第一次在美国看电影,是在纽约市看《王牌大贱谍2》(Austin Powers 2)——我记得电影结束时,所有人都鼓起掌来,仿佛演员马上要出来鞠躬谢幕似的,我当时感到很惊讶。
But the funniest was in Vietnam, where I was dragged to a screening of Mama Mia! with some female friends. Each time a character switched from speaking to singing, the crowd erupted in wild, uncontrollable laughter.
但最好笑的一次是在越南,我同几位女性朋友被拉去看《妈妈咪呀!》(Mama Mia!)。每当角色从念白转为唱腔,观众就爆发出一阵疯狂而失控的笑声。
“We don’t do musicals,” my friend, who is from Hanoi, said as tears of laughter streamed down her face.
“我们欣赏不来音乐剧,”来自河内的朋友说着,笑得泪流满面。
Her reaction was worth the entrance fee alone.
光是她的反应就让我值回了票价。