伍尔夫日记,1930年4月13日
拙译:我
我写完东西以后,立刻读莎士比亚。我的思维仍然滚烫奔逸。莎士比亚读起来好得吓人。我从前还没觉得他的写作有多宽广,步伐有多快速,造词的力量有多宏伟,直到我感觉到他的步幅远超我的,他的速度远超我的,我们开始像是在同一条起跑线上,然后我就看见他直冲向前,做出了我的大脑在最狂野的风暴最大的张力之下也无法想象之事。即使那些不太知名的作品,步伐也比其它任何人的步伐更快; 词语噼里啪啦地打落下来,捡都捡不起来。看看这句吧,“[像甜美的露珠],挂在被采摘的百合花上几乎枯萎” (Upon a gather’d lily almost wither’d.”[1] )(我被这句台词击中,纯属偶然。)很明显,他的大脑擅尽所有变幻,能够把任何思想都装饰一新,然后放手,像无人在意的落花一样洒落下来。在他之后,为什么其它人还要尝试写作?他的剧作不是“写作”。说真的,我敢说莎士比亚超越了文学本身,如果我知道我在说什么的话。
[1] 译者注:出自Titus Andronicus的第三幕第一场
From the Diaries, April 13th, 1930:
I read Shakespeare directly I have finished writing. When my mind is agape and red-hot. Then it is astonishing. I never yet knew how amazing his stretch and speed and word coining power is, until I felt it utterly outpace and outrace my own, seeming to start equal and then I see him draw ahead and do things I could not in my wildest tumult and utmost press of mind imagine. Even the less known plays are written at a speed that is quicker than anybody else’s quickest; and the words drop so fast one can’t pick them up. Look at this. “Upon a gather’d lily almost wither’d.” (That is a pure accident. I happen to light on it.) Evidently the pliancy of his mind was so complete that he could furbish out any train of thought; and, relaxing, let fall a shower of such unregarded flowers. Why then should anyone else attempt to write? This is not “writing” at all. Indeed, I could say that Shakespeare surpasses literature altogether, if I knew what I meant.