古大叔小木屋（86）瓦尔登湖第六章 访客（2） 腾讯会议版

2021年9月7日 星期二 《古大叔小木屋》（86）现场实况录制 时间：晚9：00——10:00 文本 Walden [ˈwɔldən] (Issue 86) 6. Visitors(2) [3] One inconvenience I sometimes experienced in so small a house, the difficulty of getting to a sufficient distance from my guest[gest] when we began[bɪˈgæn] to utter the big thoughts in big words. You want room for your thoughts to get into sailing trim[trɪm] and run a course or two before they make their port. The bullet of your thought must have overcome its lateral and ricochet[ˈrɪkəˌʃeɪ] motion and fallen into its last and steady course before it reaches the ear of the hearer, else it may plow out again through the side of his head. Also, our sentences wanted room to unfold and form their columns in the interval. Individuals, like nations, must have suitable broad and natural boundaries, even a considerable neutral ground, between them. I have found it a singular luxury to talk across the pond to a companion on the opposite side. In my house we were so near that we could not begin to hear - we could not speak low enough to be heard; as when you throw two stones into calm water so near that they break each other's undulations. If we are merely loquacious[ləˈkweɪʃəs] and loud talkers, then we can afford to stand very near together, cheek by jowl[dʒaʊl], and feel each other's breath; but if we speak reservedly and thoughtfully, we want to be farther apart, that all animal heat and moisture may have a chance to evaporate[ɪˈvæpəˌreɪt]. If we would enjoy the most intimate society with that in each of us which is without, or above, being spoken to, we must not only be silent, but commonly so far apart bodily that we cannot possibly hear each other's voice in any case. Referred to this standard, speech is for the convenience of those who are hard of hearing; but there are many fine things which we cannot say if we have to shout. As the conversation began to assume a loftier and grander tone, we gradually shoved[ʃʌv] our chairs farther apart till they touched the wall in opposite corners, and then commonly there was not room enough. 在如此狭小的一个小屋我有时体会到的一个不便就是，当我和客人开始使用一些大词表达宏大的思想却难在了没有一个足够的距离。你的思想确实需要空[kōng]间才能进入良好的航行，跑上一两段路线才能抵达他们的港湾。你思想的子弹必须克服自身的横飞和跳跃在落入最终固定的弹道抵达听者的耳朵以前，否则它会再次从他耳旁滑过。同样，我们的句子也需要空间来展开和在此期间形成它们的队列。个人，就像一个国家也需要合适的宽阔和自然的疆界。我发现隔着湖和对岸的一个同伴谈话纯粹是一种奢侈。在我的屋子我们凑得如此近以至于我们都不能开始倾听——不能把讲话调门降低到足够被听到，就像你往平静的水里投了两块儿石头离得太近破坏了彼此的涟漪。如果我们仅仅是喋喋不休、声若洪钟的谈话者，那么尽可以互相站得很近，脸贴脸，去感受彼此的呼吸；但假如我们讲得含蓄而沉思，就想离/彼此远一点，这样所有动物的热能和湿气就有机会发散。如果我们能享受那最融洽的社会，它对于我们每个人还可望而不可即，或高高在上，只是被谈及，在那里我们就不光必须沉默，而且通常身体在任何情况下都离得如此远以至于可能听不到彼此的声音。从这一标准来看，讲话只不过是为那些听起来费劲的人们提供的便利；但是有许多美好的事情我们说不出来即使我们非得叫喊。当谈话开始出现一种更高尚和雄浑的调子，我们就会逐渐把正坐的椅子往后挪，直到抵住自己一面的墙根，那么通常这屋子空间就不够了。