神马文学网The Misanthrope 孤獨者
来源：百度文库 编辑：神马文学网 时间：2024/04/27 22:02:13
那时我在S城，就时时听到人们提起他的名字，都说他很有些古怪：所学的是动物学，却到中学堂去做历史教员；对人总是爱理不理的，却常喜欢管别人的闲事；常说家庭应该破坏，一领薪水却一定立即寄给他的祖母，一日也不拖延。此外还有许多零碎的话柄；总之，在S城里也算是一个给人当作谈助的人。有一年的秋天，我在寒石山的一个亲戚家里闲住；他们就姓魏，是连殳的本家。但他们却更不明白他，仿佛将他当作一个外国人看待，说是“同我们都异样的”。
这也不足为奇，中国的兴学虽说已经二十年了，寒石山却连小学也没有。全山村中，只有连殳是出外游学的学生，所以从村人看来，他确是一个异类；但也很妒羡，说他挣得许多钱。
到秋末，山村中痢疾流行了；我也自危，就想回到城中去。那时听说连殳的祖母就染了病，因为是老年，所以很沉重；山中又没有一个医生。所谓他的家属者，其实就只有一个这祖母，雇一名女工简单地过活；他幼小失了父母，就由这祖母抚养成人的。听说她先前也曾经吃过许多苦，现在可是安乐了。但因为他没有家小，家中究竟非常寂寞，这大概也就是大家所谓异样之一端罢。
寒石山离城是旱道一百里，水道七十里，专使人叫连殳去，往返至少就得四天。山村僻陋，这些事便算大家都要打听的大新闻，第二天便轰传她病势已经极重，专差也出发了；可是到四更天竟咽了气，最后的话，是：“为什么不肯给我会一会连殳的呢？……”
族长，近房，他的祖母的母家的亲丁，闲人，聚集了一屋子，豫计连殳的到来，应该已是入殓的时候了。寿材寿衣早已做成，都无须筹画；他们的第一大问题是在怎样对付这“承重孙”〔2〕，因为逆料他关于一切丧葬仪式，是一定要改变新花样的。聚议之后，大概商定了三大条件，要他必行。一是穿白，二是跪拜，三是请和尚道士做法事〔3〕。总而言之：是全都照旧。
他们既经议妥，便约定在连殳到家的那一天，一同聚在厅前，排成阵势，互相策应，并力作一回极严厉的谈判。村人们都咽着唾沫，新奇地听候消息；他们知道连殳是“吃洋教”的“新党”，向来就不讲什么道理，两面的争斗，大约总要开始的，或者还会酿成一种出人意外的奇观。
传说连殳的到家是下午，一进门，向他祖母的灵前只是弯了一弯腰。族长们便立刻照豫定计画进行，将他叫到大厅上，先说过一大篇冒头，然后引入本题，而且大家此唱彼和，七嘴八舌，使他得不到辩驳的机会。但终于话都说完了，沉默充满了全厅，人们全数悚然地紧看着他的嘴。只见连殳神色也不动，简单地回答道：
“都可以的。”
这又很出于他们的意外，大家的心的重担都放下了，但又似乎反加重，觉得太 “异样”，倒很有些可虑似的。打听新闻的村人们也很失望，口口相传道，“奇怪！他说‘都可以’哩！我们看去罢！”都可以就是照旧，本来是无足观了，但他们也还要看，黄昏之后，便欣欣然聚满了一堂前。
我也是去看的一个，先送了一份香烛；待到走到他家，已见连殳在给死者穿衣服了。原来他是一个短小瘦削的人，长方脸，蓬松的头发和浓黑的须眉占了一脸的小半，只见两眼在黑气里发光。那穿衣也穿得真好，井井有条，仿佛是一个大殓的专家，使旁观者不觉叹服。寒石山老例，当这些时候，无论如何，母家的亲丁是总要挑剔的；他却只是默默地，遇见怎么挑剔便怎么改，神色也不动。站在我前面的一个花白头发的老太太，便发出羡慕感叹的声音。
其次是拜；其次是哭，凡女人们都念念有词。其次入棺；其次又是拜；又是哭，直到钉好了棺盖。沉静了一瞬间，大家忽而扰动了，很有惊异和不满的形势。我也不由的突然觉到：连殳就始终没有落过一滴泪，只坐在草荐上，两眼在黑气里闪闪地发光。
大殓便在这惊异和不满的空气里面完毕。大家都怏怏地，似乎想走散，但连殳却还坐在草荐上沉思。忽然，他流下泪来了，接着就失声，立刻又变成长嚎，像一匹受伤的狼，当深夜在旷野中嗥叫，惨伤里夹杂着愤怒和悲哀。这模样，是老例上所没有的，先前也未曾豫防到，大家都手足无措了，迟疑了一会，就有几个人上前去劝止他，愈去愈多，终于挤成一大堆。但他却只是兀坐着号啕，铁塔似的动也不动。
大家又只得无趣地散开；他哭着，哭着，约有半点钟，这才突然停了下来，也不向吊客招呼，径自往家里走。接着就有前去窥探的人来报告：他走进他祖母的房里，躺在床上，而且，似乎就睡熟了。
隔了两日，是我要动身回城的前一天，便听到村人都遭了魔似的发议论，说连殳要将所有的器具大半烧给他祖母，余下的便分赠生时侍奉，死时送终的女工，并且连房屋也要无期地借给她居住了。亲戚本家都说到舌敝唇焦，也终于阻当不住。
恐怕大半也还是因为好奇心，我归途中经过他家的门口，便又顺便去吊慰。他穿了毛边的白衣出见，神色也还是那样，冷冷的。我很劝慰了一番；他却除了唯唯诺诺之外，只回答了一句话，是：
“多谢你的好意。”
二
我们第三次相见就在这年的冬初，S城的一个书铺子里，大家同时点了一点头，总算是认识了。但使我们接近起来的，是在这年底我失了职业之后。从此，我便常常访问连殳去。一则，自然是因为无聊赖；二则，因为听人说，他倒很亲近失意的人的，虽然素性这么冷。但是世事升沉无定，失意人也不会我一投名片，他便接见了。两间连通的客厅，并无什么陈设，不过是桌椅之外，排列些书架，大家虽说他是一个可怕的“新党”，架上却不很有新书。他已经知道我失了职业；但套话一说就完，主客便只好默默地相对，逐渐沉闷起来。我只见他很快地吸完一枝烟，烟蒂要烧着手指了，才抛在地面上。
“吸烟罢。”他伸手取第二枝烟时，忽然说。
我便也取了一枝，吸着，讲些关于教书和书籍的，但也还觉得沉闷。我正想走时，门外一阵喧嚷和脚步声，四个男女孩子闯进来了。大的八九岁，小的四五岁，手脸和衣服都很脏，而且丑得可以。但是连殳的眼里却即刻发出欢喜的光来了，连忙站起，向客厅间壁的房里走，一面说道：
“大良，二良，都来！你们昨天要的口琴，我已经买来了。”
孩子们便跟着一齐拥进去，立刻又各人吹着一个口琴一拥而出，一出客厅门，不知怎的便打将起来。有一个哭了。
“一人一个，都一样的。不要争呵！”他还跟在后面嘱咐。
“这么多的一群孩子都是谁呢？”我问。
“是房主人的。他们都没有母亲，只有一个祖母。”
“房东只一个人么？”
“是的。他的妻子大概死了三四年了罢，没有续娶。——否则，便要不肯将余屋租给我似的单身人。”他说着，冷冷地微笑了。
我很想问他何以至今还是单身，但因为不很熟，终于不好开口。
只要和连殳一熟识，是很可以谈谈的。他议论非常多，而且往往颇奇警。使人不耐的倒是他的有些来客，大抵是读过《沉沦》〔4〕的罢，时常自命为“不幸的青年”或是“零余者”，螃蟹一般懒散而骄傲地堆在大椅子上，一面唉声叹气，一面皱着眉头吸烟。还有那房主的孩子们，总是互相争吵，打翻碗碟，硬讨点心，乱得人头昏。但连殳一见他们，却再不像平时那样的冷冷的了，看得比自己的性命还宝贵。听说有一回，三良发了红斑痧，竟急得他脸上的黑气愈见其黑了；不料那病是轻的，于是后来便被孩子们的祖母传作笑柄。
“孩子总是好的。他们全是天真……。”他似乎也觉得我有些不耐烦了，有一天特地乘机对我说。
“那也不尽然。”我只是随便回答他。
“不。大人的坏脾气，在孩子们是没有的。后来的坏，如你平日所攻击的坏，那是环境教坏的。原来却并不坏，天真……。我以为中国的可以希望，只在这一点。”
“不。如果孩子中没有坏根苗，大起来怎么会有坏花果？譬如一粒种子，正因为内中本含有枝叶花果的胚，长大时才能够发出这些东西来。何尝是无端……。” 我因为闲着无事，便也如大人先生们一下野，就要吃素谈禅〔5〕一样，正在看佛经。佛理自然是并不懂得的，但竟也不自检点，一味任意地说。
然而连殳气忿了，只看了我一眼，不再开口。我也猜不出他是无话可说呢，还是不屑辩。但见他又显出许久不见的冷冷的态度来，默默地连吸了两枝烟；待到他再取第三枝时，我便只好逃走了。
这仇恨是历了三月之久才消释的。原因大概是一半因为忘却，一半则他自己竟也被“天真”的孩子所仇视了，于是觉得我对于孩子的冒渎的话倒也情有可原。但这不过是我的推测。其时是在我的寓里的酒后，他似乎微露悲哀模样，半仰着头道：
“想起来真觉得有些奇怪。我到你这里来时，街上看见一个很小的小孩，拿了一片芦叶指着我道：杀！他还不很能走路……。”
“这是环境教坏的。”
我即刻很后悔我的话。但他却似乎并不介意，只竭力地喝酒，其间又竭力地吸烟。
“我倒忘了，还没有问你，”我便用别的话来支梧，“你是不大访问人的，怎么今天有这兴致来走走呢？我们相识有一年多了，你到我这里来却还是第一回。”
“我正要告诉你呢：你这几天切莫到我寓里来看我了。我的寓里正有很讨厌的一大一小在那里，都不像人！”
“一大一小？这是谁呢？”我有些诧异。
“是我的堂兄和他的小儿子。哈哈，儿子正如老子一般。”
“是上城来看你，带便玩玩的罢？”
“不。说是来和我商量，就要将这孩子过继给我的。”
“呵！过继给你？”我不禁惊叫了，“你不是还没有娶亲么？”
“他们知道我不娶的了。但这都没有什么关系。他们其实是要过继给我那一间寒石山的破屋子。我此外一无所有，你是知道的；钱一到手就化完。只有这一间破屋子。他们父子的一生的事业是在逐出那一个借住着的老女工。”
他那词气的冷峭，实在又使我悚然。但我还慰解他说：
“我看你的本家也还不至于此。他们不过思想略旧一点罢了。譬如，你那年大哭的时候，他们就都热心地围着使劲来劝你……。”
“我父亲死去之后，因为夺我屋子，要我在笔据上画花押，我大哭着的时候，他们也是这样热心地围着使劲来劝我……。”他两眼向上凝视，仿佛要在空中寻出那时的情景来。
“总而言之：关键就全在你没有孩子。你究竟为什么老不结婚的呢？”我忽而寻到了转舵的话，也是久已想问的话，觉得这时是最好的机会了。
他诧异地看着我，过了一会，眼光便移到他自己的膝髁上去了，于是就吸烟，没有回答。
三
但是，虽在这一种百无聊赖的境地中，也还不给连殳安住。渐渐地，小报上有匿名人来攻击他，学界上也常有关于他的流言，可是这已经并非先前似的单是话柄，大概是于他有损的了。我知道这是他近来喜欢发表文章的结果，倒也并不介意。S城人最不愿意有人发些没有顾忌的议论，一有，一定要暗暗地来叮他，这是向来如此的，连殳自己也知道。但到春天，忽然听说他已被校长辞退了。这却使我觉得有些兀突；其实，这也是向来如此的，不过因为我希望着自己认识的人能够幸免，所以就以为兀突罢了，S城人倒并非这一回特别恶。
其时我正忙着自己的生计，一面又在接洽本年秋天到山阳去当教员的事，竟没有工夫去访问他。待到有些余暇的时候，离他被辞退那时大约快有三个月了，可是还没有发生访问连殳的意思。有一天，我路过大街，偶然在旧书摊前停留，却不禁使我觉到震悚，因为在那里陈列着的一部汲古阁初印本《史记索隐》〔6〕，正是连殳的书。他喜欢书，但不是藏书家，这种本子，在他是算作贵重的善本，非万不得已，不肯轻易变卖的。难道他失业刚才两三月，就一贫至此么？虽然他向来一有钱即随手散去，没有什么贮蓄。于是我便决意访问连殳去，顺便在街上买了一瓶烧酒，两包花生米，两个熏鱼头。
他的房门关闭着，叫了两声，不见答应。我疑心他睡着了，更加大声地叫，并且伸手拍着房门。
“出去了罢！”大良们的祖母，那三角眼的胖女人，从对面的窗口探出她花白的头来了，也大声说，不耐烦似的。
“那里去了呢？”我问。
“那里去了？谁知道呢？——他能到那里去呢，你等着就是，一会儿总会回来的。”
我便推开门走进他的客厅去。真是“一日不见，如隔三秋”〔7〕，满眼是凄凉和空空洞洞，不但器具所余无几了，连书籍也只剩了在S城决没有人会要的几本洋装书。屋中间的圆桌还在，先前曾经常常围绕着忧郁慷慨的青年，怀才不遇的奇士和腌脏吵闹的孩子们的，现在却见得很闲静，只在面上蒙着一层薄薄的灰尘。我就在桌上放了酒瓶和纸包，拖过一把椅子来，靠桌旁对着房门坐下。
的确不过是“一会儿”，房门一开，一个人悄悄地阴影似的进来了，正是连殳。也许是傍晚之故罢，看去仿佛比先前黑，但神情却还是那样。
“阿！你在这里？来得多久了？”他似乎有些喜欢。
“并没有多久。”我说，“你到那里去了？”
“并没有到那里去，不过随便走走。”
他也拖过椅子来，在桌旁坐下；我们便开始喝烧酒，一面谈些关于他的失业的事。但他却不愿意多谈这些；他以为这是意料中的事，也是自己时常遇到的事，无足怪，而且无可谈的。他照例只是一意喝烧酒，并且依然发些关于社会和历史的议论。不知怎地我此时看见空空的书架，也记起汲古阁初印本的《史记索隐》，忽而感到一种淡漠的孤寂和悲哀。
“你的客厅这么荒凉……。近来客人不多了么？”
“没有了。他们以为我心境不佳，来也无意味。心境不佳，实在是可以给人们不舒服的。冬天的公园，就没有人去……。”
他连喝两口酒，默默地想着，突然，仰起脸来看着我问道，“你在图谋的职业也还是毫无把握罢？……”
我虽然明知他已经有些酒意，但也不禁愤然，正想发话，只见他侧耳一听，便抓起一把花生米，出去了。门外是大良们笑嚷的声音。
但他一出去，孩子们的声音便寂然，而且似乎都走了。他还追上去，说些话，却不听得有回答。他也就阴影似的悄悄地回来，仍将一把花生米放在纸包里。
“连我的东西也不要吃了。”他低声，嘲笑似的说。
“连殳，”我很觉得悲凉，却强装着微笑，说，“我以为你太自寻苦恼了。你看得人间太坏……。”
他冷冷的笑了一笑。
“我的话还没有完哩。你对于我们，偶而来访问你的我们，也以为因为闲着无事，所以来你这里，将你当作消遣的资料的罢？”
“并不。但有时也这样想。或者寻些谈资。”
“那你可错误了。人们其实并不这样。你实在亲手造了独头茧〔8〕，将自己裹在里面了。你应该将世间看得光明些。”我叹惜着说。
“也许如此罢。但是，你说：那丝是怎么来的？——自然，世上也尽有这样的人，譬如，我的祖母就是。我虽然没有分得她的血液，却也许会继承她的运命。然而这也没有什么要紧，我早已豫先一起哭过了……。”
我即刻记起他祖母大殓时候的情景来，如在眼前一样。
“我总不解你那时的大哭……。”于是鹘突地问了。
“我的祖母入殓的时候罢？是的，你不解的。”他一面点灯，一面冷静地说， “你的和我交往，我想，还正因为那时的哭哩。你不知道，这祖母，是我父亲的继母；他的生母，他三岁时候就死去了。”他想着，默默地喝酒，吃完了一个熏鱼头。
“那些往事，我原是不知道的。只是我从小时候就觉得不可解。那时我的父亲还在，家景也还好，正月间一定要悬挂祖像，盛大地供养起来。看着这许多盛装的画像，在我那时似乎是不可多得的眼福。但那时，抱着我的一个女工总指了一幅像说：‘这是你自己的祖母。拜拜罢，保佑你生龙活虎似的大得快。’我真不懂得我明明有着一个祖母，怎么又会有什么‘自己的祖母’来。可是我爱这‘自己的祖母’，她不比家里的祖母一般老；她年青，好看，穿着描金的红衣服，戴着珠冠，和我母亲的像差不多。我看她时，她的眼睛也注视我，而且口角上渐渐增多了笑影：我知道她一定也是极其爱我的。
“然而我也爱那家里的，终日坐在窗下慢慢地做针线的祖母。虽然无论我怎样高兴地在她面前玩笑，叫她，也不能引她欢笑，常使我觉得冷冷地，和别人的祖母们有些不同。但我还爱她。可是到后来，我逐渐疏远她了；这也并非因为年纪大了，已经知道她不是我父亲的生母的缘故，倒是看久了终日终年的做针线，机器似的，自然免不了要发烦。但她却还是先前一样，做针线；管理我，也爱护我，虽然少见笑容，却也不加呵斥。直到我父亲去世，还是这样；后来呢，我们几乎全靠她做针线过活了，自然更这样，直到我进学堂……。”
灯火销沉下去了，煤油已经将涸，他便站起，从书架下摸出一个小小的洋铁壶来添煤油。
“只这一月里，煤油已经涨价两次了……。”他旋好了灯头，慢慢地说。“生活要日见其困难起来。——她后来还是这样，直到我毕业，有了事做，生活比先前安定些；恐怕还直到她生病，实在打熬不住了，只得躺下的时候罢……。
“她的晚年，据我想，是总算不很辛苦的，享寿也不小了，正无须我来下泪。况且哭的人不是多着么？连先前竭力欺凌她的人们也哭，至少是脸上很惨然。哈哈！…… 可是我那时不知怎地，将她的一生缩在眼前了，亲手造成孤独，又放在嘴里去咀嚼的人的一生。而且觉得这样的人还很多哩。这些人们，就使我要痛哭，但大半也还是因为我那时太过于感情用事……。
“你现在对于我的意见，就是我先前对于她的意见。然而我的那时的意见，其实也不对的。便是我自己，从略知世事起，就的确逐渐和她疏远起来了……。”
他沉默了，指间夹着烟卷，低了头，想着。灯火在微微地发抖。
“呵，人要使死后没有一个人为他哭，是不容易的事呵。”
他自言自语似的说；略略一停，便仰起脸来向我道，“想来你也无法可想。我也还得赶紧寻点事情做……。”
“你再没有可托的朋友了么？”我这时正是无法可想，连自己。
“那倒大概还有几个的，可是他们的境遇都和我差不多……。”
我辞别连殳出门的时候，圆月已经升在中天了，是极静的夜。
四
山阳的教育事业的状况很不佳。我到校两月，得不到一文薪水，只得连烟卷也节省起来。但是学校里的人们，虽是月薪十五六元的小职员，也没有一个不是乐天知命的，仗着逐渐打熬成功的铜筋铁骨，面黄肌瘦地从早办公一直到夜，其间看见名位较高的人物，还得恭恭敬敬地站起，实在都是不必“衣食足而知礼节”〔8〕的人民。我每看见这情状，不知怎的总记起连殳临别托付我的话来。他那时生计更其不堪了，窘相时时显露，看去似乎已没有往时的深沉，知道我就要动身，深夜来访，迟疑了许久，才吞吞吐吐地说道：
“不知道那边可有法子想？——便是钞写，一月二三十块钱的也可以的。我……。”
我很诧异了，还不料他竟肯这样的迁就，一时说不出话来。
“我……，我还得活几天……。”
“那边去看一看，一定竭力去设法罢。”
这是我当日一口承当的答话，后来常常自己听见，眼前也同时浮出连殳的相貌，而且吞吞吐吐地说道“我还得活几天”。到这些时，我便设法向各处推荐一番；但有什么效验呢，事少人多，结果是别人给我几句抱歉的话，我就给他几句抱歉的信。到一学期将完的时候，那情形就更加坏了起来。那地方的几个绅士所办的《学理周报》上，竟开始攻击我了，自然是决不指名的，但措辞很巧妙，使人一见就觉得我是在挑剔学潮〔10〕，连推荐连殳的事，也算是呼朋引类。
我只好一动不动，除上课之外，便关起门来躲着，有时连烟卷的烟钻出窗隙去，也怕犯了挑剔学潮的嫌疑。连殳的事，自然更是无从说起了。这样地一直到深冬。
下了一天雪，到夜还没有止，屋外一切静极，静到要听出静的声音来。我在小小的灯火光中，闭目枯坐，如见雪花片片飘坠，来增补这一望无际的雪堆；故乡也准备过年了，人们忙得很；我自己还是一个儿童，在后园的平坦处和一伙小朋友塑雪罗汉。雪罗汉的眼睛是用两块小炭嵌出来的，颜色很黑，这一闪动，便变了连殳的眼睛。
“我还得活几天！”仍是这样的声音。
“为什么呢？”我无端地这样问，立刻连自己也觉得可笑了。
这可笑的问题使我清醒，坐直了身子，点起一枝烟卷来；推窗一望，雪果然下得更大了。听得有人叩门；不一会，一个人走进来，但是听熟的客寓杂役的脚步。他推开我的房门，交给我一封六寸多长的信，字迹很潦草，然而一瞥便认出“魏缄” 两个字，是连殳寄来的。
这是从我离开S城以后他给我的第一封信。我知道他疏懒，本不以杳无消息为奇，但有时也颇怨他不给一点消息。待到接了这信，可又无端地觉得奇怪了，慌忙拆开来。里面也用了一样潦草的字体，写着这样的话：
“申飞……。
“我称你什么呢？我空着。你自己愿意称什么，你自己添上去罢。我可以的。
“别后共得三信，没有复。这原因很简单：我连买邮票的钱也没有。
“你或者愿意知道些我的消息，现在简直告诉你罢：我失败了。先前，我自以为是失败者，现在知道那并不，现在才真是失败者了。先前，还有 人愿意我活几天，我自己也还想活几天的时候，活不下去；现在，大可以 无须了，然而要活下去……。
“然而就活下去么？
“愿意我活几天的，自己就活不下去。这人已被敌人诱杀了。谁杀的
呢？谁也不知道。
“人生的变化多么迅速呵！这半年来，我几乎求乞了，实际，也可以 算得已经求乞。然而我还有所为，我愿意为此求乞，为此冻馁，为此寂寞， 为此辛苦。但灭亡是不愿意的。你看，有一个愿意我活几天的，那力量就 这么大。然而现在是没有了，连这一个也没有了。同时，我自己也觉得不配活下去；别人呢？也不配的。同时，我自己又觉得偏要为不愿意我活下去的人们而活下去；好在愿意我好好地活下去的已经没有了，再没有谁痛心。使这样的人痛心，我是不愿意的。然而现在是没有了，连这一个也没有了。快活极了，舒服极了；我已经躬行我先前所憎恶，所反对的一切，拒斥我先前所崇仰，所主张的一切了。我已经真的失败，——然而我胜利了。
“你以为我发了疯么？你以为我成了英雄或伟人了么？不，不的。这事情很简单；我近来已经做了杜师长的顾问，每月的薪水就有现洋八十元了。
“申飞……。
“你将以我为什么东西呢，你自己定就是，我都可以的。
“你大约还记得我旧时的客厅罢，我们在城中初见和将别时候的客厅。现在我还用着这客厅。这里有新的宾客，新的馈赠，新的颂扬，新的钻营， 新的磕头和打拱，新的打牌和猜拳，新的冷眼和恶心，新的失眠和吐血……。
“你前信说你教书很不如意。你愿意也做顾问么？可以告诉我，我给你办。其实是做门房也不妨，一样地有新的宾客和新的馈赠，新的颂扬……。
“我这里下大雪了。你那里怎样？现在已是深夜，吐了两口血，使我清醒起来。记得你竟从秋天以来陆续给了我三封信，这是怎样的可以惊异的事呵。我必须寄给你一点消息，你或者不至于倒抽一口冷气罢。
“此后，我大约不再写信的了，我这习惯是你早已知道的。何时回来呢？倘早，当能相见。——但我想，我们大概究竟不是一路的；那么，请你忘记我罢。我从我的真心感谢你先前常替我筹划生计。但是现在忘记我罢；我现在已经‘好’了。
连殳。十二月十四日。” 这虽然并不使我“倒抽一口冷气”，但草草一看之后，又细看了一遍，却总有些不舒服，而同时可又夹杂些快意和高兴；又想，他的生计总算已经不成问题，我的担子也可以放下了，虽然在我这一面始终不过是无法可想。忽而又想写一封信回答他，但又觉得没有话说，于是这意思也立即消失了。
我的确渐渐地在忘却他。在我的记忆中，他的面貌也不再时常出现。但得信之后不到十天，S城的学理七日报社忽然接续着邮寄他们的《学理七日报》来了。我是不大看这些东西的，不过既经寄到，也就随手翻翻。这却使我记起连殳来，因为里面常有关于他的诗文，如《雪夜谒连殳先生》，《连殳顾问高斋雅集》等等；有一回，《学理闲谭》里还津津地叙述他先前所被传为笑柄的事，称作“逸闻”，言外大有“且夫非常之人，必能行非常之事”〔11〕的意思。
不知怎地虽然因此记起，但他的面貌却总是逐渐模胡；然而又似乎和我日加密切起来，往往无端感到一种连自己也莫明其妙的不安和极轻微的震颤。幸而到了秋季，这《学理七日报》就不寄来了；山阳的《学理周刊》上却又按期登起一篇长论文：《流言即事实论》。里面还说，关于某君们的流言，已在公正士绅间盛传了。这是专指几个人的，有我在内；我只好极小心，照例连吸烟卷的烟也谨防飞散。小心是一种忙的苦痛，因此会百事俱废，自然也无暇记得连殳。总之：我其实已经将他忘却了。
但我也终于敷衍不到暑假，五月底，便离开了山阳。
五
从山阳到历城，又到太谷，一总转了大半年，终于寻不出什么事情做，我便又决计回S 城去了。到时是春初的下午，天气欲雨不雨，一切都罩在灰色中；旧寓里还有空房，仍然住下。在道上，就想起连殳的了，到后，便决定晚饭后去看他。我提着两包闻喜名产的煮饼，走了许多潮湿的路，让道给许多拦路高卧的狗，这才总算到了连殳的门前。里面仿佛特别明亮似的。我想，一做顾问，连寓里也格外光亮起来了，不觉在暗中一笑。但仰面一看，门旁却白白的，分明帖着一张斜角纸〔12〕。我又想，大良们的祖母死了罢；同时也跨进门，一直向里面走。
微光所照的院子里，放着一具棺材，旁边站一个穿军衣的兵或是马弁，还有一个和他谈话的，看时却是大良的祖母；另外还闲站着几个短衣的粗人。我的心即刻跳起来了。她也转过脸来凝视我。
“阿呀！您回来了？何不早几天……。”她忽而大叫起来。
“谁……谁没有了？”我其实是已经大概知道的了，但还是问。
“魏大人，前天没有的。”
我四顾，客厅里暗沉沉的，大约只有一盏灯；正屋里却挂着白的孝帏，几个孩子聚在屋外，就是大良二良们。
“他停在那里，”大良的祖母走向前，指着说，“魏大人恭喜之后，我把正屋也租给他了；他现在就停在那里。”
孝帏上没有别的，前面是一张条桌，一张方桌；方桌上摆着十来碗饭菜。我刚跨进门，当面忽然现出两个穿白长衫的来拦住了，瞪了死鱼似的眼睛，从中发出惊疑的光来，钉住了我的脸。我慌忙说明我和连殳的关系，大良的祖母也来从旁证实，他们的手和眼光这才逐渐弛缓下去，默许我近前去鞠躬。
我一鞠躬，地下忽然有人呜呜的哭起来了，定神看时，一个十多岁的孩子伏在草荐上，也是白衣服，头发剪得很光的头上还络着一大绺苎麻丝〔13〕。
我和他们寒暄后，知道一个是连殳的从堂兄弟，要算最亲的了；一个是远房侄子。我请求看一看故人，他们却竭力拦阻，说是“不敢当”的。然而终于被我说服了，将孝帏揭起。
这回我会见了死的连殳。但是奇怪！他虽然穿一套皱的短衫裤，大襟上还有血迹，脸上也瘦削得不堪，然而面目却还是先前那样的面目，宁静地闭着嘴，合着眼，睡着似的，几乎要使我伸手到他鼻子前面，去试探他可是其实还在呼吸着。
一切是死一般静，死的人和活的人。我退开了，他的从堂兄弟却又来周旋，说 “舍弟”正在年富力强，前程无限的时候，竟遽尔“作古”了，这不但是“衰宗” 不幸，也太使朋友伤心。言外颇有替连殳道歉之意；这样地能说，在山乡中人是少有的。但此后也就沉默了，一切是死一般静，死的人和活的人。
我觉得很无聊，怎样的悲哀倒没有，便退到院子里，和大良们的祖母闲谈起来。知道入殓的时候是临近了，只待寿衣送到；钉棺材钉时，“子午卯酉”四生肖是必须躲避的。她谈得高兴了，说话滔滔地泉流似的涌出，说到他的病状，说到他生时的情景，也带些关于他的批评。
“你可知道魏大人自从交运之后，人就和先前两样了，脸也抬高起来，气昂昂的。对人也不再先前那么迂。你知道，他先前不是像一个哑子，见我是叫老太太的么？后来就叫‘老家伙’。唉唉，真是有趣。人送他仙居术〔14〕，他自己是不吃的，就摔在院子里，——就是这地方，——叫道，‘老家伙，你吃去罢。’他交运之后，人来人往，我把正屋也让给他住了，自己便搬在这厢房里。他也真是一走红运，就与众不同，我们就常常这样说笑。要是你早来一个月，还赶得上看这里的热闹，三日两头的猜拳行令，说的说，笑的笑，唱的唱，做诗的做诗，打牌的打牌……。
“他先前怕孩子们比孩子们见老子还怕，总是低声下气的。近来可也两样了，能说能闹，我们的大良们也很喜欢和他玩，一有空，便都到他的屋里去。他也用种种方法逗着玩；要他买东西，他就要孩子装一声狗叫，或者磕一个响头。哈哈，真是过得热闹。前两月二良要他买鞋，还磕了三个响头哩，哪，现在还穿着，没有破呢。”
一个穿白长衫的人出来了，她就住了口。我打听连殳的病症，她却不大清楚，只说大约是早已瘦了下去的罢，可是谁也没理会，因为他总是高高兴兴的。到一个多月前，这才听到他吐过几回血，但似乎也没有看医生；后来躺倒了；死去的前三天，就哑了喉咙，说不出一句话。十三大人从寒石山路远迢迢地上城来，问他可有存款，他一声也不响。十三大人疑心他装出来的，也有人说有些生痨病死的人是要说不出话来的，谁知道呢……。
“可是魏大人的脾气也太古怪，”她忽然低声说，“他就不肯积蓄一点，水似的化钱。十三大人还疑心我们得了什么好处。有什么屁好处呢？他就冤里冤枉胡里胡涂地化掉了。譬如买东西，今天买进，明天又卖出，弄破，真不知道是怎么一回事。待到死了下来，什么也没有，都糟掉了。要不然，今天也不至于这样地冷静……。
“他就是胡闹，不想办一点正经事。我是想到过的，也劝过他。这么年纪了，应该成家；照现在的样子，结一门亲很容易；如果没有门当户对的，先买几个姨太太也可以：人是总应该像个样子的。可是他一听到就笑起来，说道，‘老家伙，你还是总替别人惦记着这等事么？’你看，他近来就浮而不实，不把人的好话当好话听。要是早听了我的话，现在何至于独自冷清清地在阴间摸索，至少，也可以听到几声亲人的哭声……。”
一个店伙背了衣服来了。三个亲人便检出里衣，走进帏后去。不多久，孝帏揭起了，里衣已经换好，接着是加外衣。
这很出我意外。一条土黄的军裤穿上了，嵌着很宽的红条，其次穿上去的是军衣，金闪闪的肩章，也不知道是什么品级，那里来的品级。到入棺，是连殳很不妥帖地躺着，脚边放一双黄皮鞋，腰边放一柄纸糊的指挥刀，骨瘦如柴的灰黑的脸旁，是一顶金边的军帽。
三个亲人扶着棺沿哭了一场，止哭拭泪；头上络麻线的孩子退出去了，三良也避去，大约都是属“子午卯酉”之一的。
粗人打起棺盖来，我走近去最后看一看永别的连殳。
他在不妥帖的衣冠中，安静地躺着，合了眼，闭着嘴，口角间仿佛含着冰冷的微笑，冷笑着这可笑的死尸。
敲钉的声音一响，哭声也同时迸出来。这哭声使我不能听完，只好退到院子里；顺脚一走，不觉出了大门了。潮湿的路极其分明，仰看太空，浓云已经散去，挂着一轮圆月，散出冷静的光辉。
我快步走着，仿佛要从一种沉重的东西中冲出，但是不能够。耳朵中有什么挣扎着，久之，久之，终于挣扎出来了，隐约像是长嗥，像一匹受伤的狼，当深夜在旷野中嗥叫，惨伤里夹杂着愤怒和悲哀。
我的心地就轻松起来，坦然地在潮湿的石路上走，月光底下。
一九二五年十月十七日毕。
〔1〕本篇在收入本书前未在报刊上发表过。
〔2〕“承重孙”按封建宗法制度，长子先亡，由嫡长孙代替亡父充当祖父母丧礼的主持人，称承重孙。
〔3〕法事原指佛教徒念经、供佛一类活动。这里指和尚、道士超度亡魂的迷信仪式，也叫“做功德”。
〔4〕《沉沦》小说集，郁达夫著，内收中篇小说《沉沦》和短篇小说《南迁》、《银灰色的死》，一九二一年十月上海泰东图书局出版。这些作品以“不幸的青年” 或“零余者”为主人公，反映当时一部分小资产阶级知识分子在帝国主义、封建势力压抑下的忧郁、苦闷和自暴自弃的病态心理，带有颓废的倾向。
〔5〕吃素谈禅谈禅，指谈论佛教教义。当时军阀官僚在失势后，往往发表下野 “宣言”或“通电”，宣称出洋游历或隐居山林、吃斋念佛，从此不问国事等，实则窥测方向，伺机再起。
〔6〕《史记索隐》唐代司马贞注释《史记》的书，共三十卷。汲古阁，是明末藏书家毛晋的藏书室。《史记索隐》是毛晋重刻的宋版书之一。
〔7〕“一日不见，如隔三秋”语出《诗经?王风?采葛》：“一日不见，如三秋兮。”
〔8〕独头茧绍兴方言称孤独的人为独头。蚕吐丝作茧，将自己孤独地裹在里面，所以这里用“独头茧”比喻自甘孤独的人。
〔9〕“衣食足而知礼节”语出《管子?牧民》：“仓廪实则知礼节，衣食足则知荣辱。”
〔10〕挑剔学潮一九二五年五月，作者和北京女子师范大学其他六位教授发表了支持该校学生反对反动的学校当局的宣言，陈西滢于同月《现代评论》第一卷第二十五期发表的《闲话》中，攻击作者等是“暗中挑剔风潮”。作者在这里借用此语，含有讽刺陈西滢文句不通的意味。
〔11〕“且夫非常之人，必能行非常之事”语出《史记?司马相如列传》： “盖世必有非常之人，然后有非常之事。”
〔12〕斜角纸我国旧时民间习俗，人死后在大门旁斜贴一张白纸，纸上写明死者的性别和年龄，入殓时需要避开的是哪些生肖的人，以及“殃”和“煞”的种类、日期，使别人知道避忌。（这就是所谓“殃榜”。据清代范寅《越谚》：煞神， “人首鸡身”，“人死必如期至，犯之辄死”。）
〔13〕苎麻丝指“麻冠”（用苎麻编成）。旧时习俗，死者的儿子或承重孙在守灵和送殡时戴用，作为“重孝”的标志。
〔14〕仙居术浙江省仙居县所产的药用植物白术。
Lu Xun
The Misanthrope
Written: October 17, 1925
Source: Selected Stories of Lu Hsun, Published by Foreign Languages Press, Peking, 1960, 1972
Transcribed: Original transcription from coldbacon.com
HTML Markup: Mike B. for MIA, 2006
Public Domain: Marxists Internet Archive (2006). You may freely copy, distribute, display and perform this work; as well as make derivative and commercial works. Please credit “Marxists Internet Archive” as your source.
I
My friendship with Wei Lien-shu, now that I come to think of it, was certainly a strange one. It began and ended with a funeral.
When I lived in S——, I often heard him mentioned as an odd fellow: after studying zoology, he had become a history teacher in a middle school. He treated others in cavalier fashion, yet liked to concern himself with their affairs; and while maintaining that the family system should be abolished, he sent his salary to his grandmother the same day that he drew it. He had many other strange ways, enough to set tongues wagging in the town. One autumn I stayed at Hanshihshan with some relatives also named Wei, who were distantly related to him. However, they understood him even less, looking on him as if he were a foreigner. "He's not like us!" they said.
This was not strange, for although China had had modern schools for some twenty years, there was not even a primary school in Hanshihshan. He was the only one who had left that mountain village to study; hence in the villagers' eyes he was an undoubted freak. They also envied him, though, saying he had made much money.
Towards the end of autumn, there was an epidemic of dysentery in the village, and in alarm I thought of returning to the town. I heard his grandmother had contracted the disease too, and because of her age her case was serious. Moreover there was not a single doctor in the village. Wei had no other relative but this grandmother, who with one maidservant led a simple life. As he had lost both parents in his childhood, she had brought him up. She was said to have known much hardship earlier, but was now leading a comfortable life. Since he had neither wife nor children, however, his family was very quiet, and this presumably was one of the things about him considered freakish.
The village was more than thirty miles from the town by land, and more than twenty miles by water; so that it would take four days to fetch Wei back. In this out-of-the-way village such matters were considered momentous news, eagerly canvassed by all. The next day the old woman was reported to be in a critical state, and the messenger on his way. However, before dawn she died, her last words being:
"Why won't you let me see my grandson?"
Elders of the clan, close relatives, members of his grandmother's family and others, crowded the room anticipating Wei's return, which would be in time for the funeral. The coffin and shroud had long been ready, but the immediate problem was how to cope with this grandson, for they expected he would insist on changing the funeral rites. After a conference, they decided on three terms which he must accept. First, he must wear deep mourning; secondly, he must kowtow to the coffin; and, thirdly, he must let Buddhist monks and Taoist priests say mass. In short, all must be done in the traditional manner.
This decision once reached, they decided to gather there in full force when Wei arrived home, to assist each other in this negotiation which could admit of no compromise. Licking their lips, the villagers eagerly awaited developments. Wei, as a "modern," "a follower of foreign creeds," had always proved unreasonable. A struggle would certainly ensue, which might even result in some novel spectacle.
He arrived home, I heard, in the afternoon, and only bowed to his grandmother's shrine as he entered. The elders proceeded at once according to plan. They summoned him to the ball, and after a lengthy preamble led up to the subject. Then, speaking in unison and at length, they gave him no chance to argue. At last, however, they dried up, and a deep silence fell in the hall. All eyes fastened fearfully on his lips. But without changing countenance, he answered simply:
"All right."
This was totally unexpected. A weight had been lifted from their minds, yet their hearts felt heavier than ever, for this was so "freakish" as to give rise to anxiety. The villagers looking for news were also disappointed, and said to each other, "Strange. He said, 'All right.' Let's go and watch." Wei's "all right" meant that all would be in accordance with tradition, in which case it was not worth watching; still, they wanted to look on, and after dusk the hall filled with light-hearted spectators.
I was one of those who went, having first sent along my gift of incense and candles. As I arrived he was already putting the shroud on the dead. He was a thin man with an angular face, hidden to a certain extent by his dishevelled hair, dark eyebrows and moustache. His eyes gleamed darkly. He laid out the body very well, as deftly as an expert, so that the spectators were impressed. According to the local custom, at a married woman's funeral members of the dead woman's family found fault even when everything was well done; however, he remained silent, complying with their wishes with a face devoid of all expression. An old, grey-haired woman standing before me gave a sigh of envy and respect.
People kowtowed; then they wailed, all the women chanting as they wailed. When the body was put in the coffin, all kowtowed again, then wailed again, until the lid of the coffin was nailed down. Silence reigned for a moment, and then there was a stir of surprise and dissatisfaction. I too suddenly realized that from beginning to end Wei had not shed a single tear. He was simply sitting on the mourner's mat, his two eyes gleaming darkly.
In this atmosphere of surprise and dissatisfaction, the ceremony ended. The disgruntled mourners seemed about to leave, but Wei was still sitting on the mat, lost in thought. Suddenly, tears fell from his eyes, then he burst into a long wail like a wounded wolf howling in the wilderness in the dead of night, anger and sorrow mingled with his agony. This was not in accordance with tradition and, taken by surprise, we were at a loss. After a little hesitation, some went to try to persuade him to stop, and these were joined by more and more people until finally there was a crowd round him. But he sat there wailing, motionless as an iron statue.
Feeling awkward, the crowd dispersed. Wei continued to cry for about half an hour, then suddenly stopped, and without a word to the mourners went straight inside. Later it was reported by spies that he had gone into his grandmother's room, lain down on the bed and, to all appearances, fallen sound asleep.
Two days later, on the eve of my return to town, I heard the villagers discussing eagerly, as if they were possessed, how Wei intended to burn most of his dead grandmother's furniture and possessions, giving the rest to the maidservant who had served her during her life and attended her on her deathbed. Even the house was to be lent to the maid for an indefinite period. Wei's relatives argued themselves hoarse, but could not shake his resolution.
On my way back, largely out of curiosity perhaps, I passed his house and went in to express condolence. He received me wearing a hemless white mourning dress, and his expression was as cold as ever. I urged him not to take it so to heart, but apart from grunting noncommittally all he said was:
"Thanks for your concern."
II
Early that winter we met for the third time. It was in a bookshop in S——, where we nodded simultaneously, showing at least that we were acquainted. But it was at the end of that year, after I lost my job, that we became friends. Thenceforward I paid Wei many visits. In the first place, of course, I had nothing to do; in the second place, despite his habitual reserve, he was said to sympathize with lame dogs. However, fortune being fickle, lame dogs do not remain lame for ever, hence he had few steady friends. Report proved true, for as soon as I sent in my card, he received me. His sitting-room consisted of two rooms thrown into one, quite bare of ornament, with nothing in it apart from table and chairs, but some bookcases. Although he was reputed to be terribly "modern," there were few modern books on the shelves. He knew that I had lost my job; but after the usual polite remarks had been exchanged, host and guest sat silent, with nothing to say to each other. I noticed he very quickly finished his cigarette, only dropping it to the ground when it nearly burned his fingers.
"Have a cigarette," he said suddenly, reaching for another.
I took one and, between puffs, spoke of teaching and books, still finding very little to say. I was just thinking of leaving when I heard shouts and footsteps outside the door, and four children rushed in. The eldest was about eight or nine, the smallest four or five. Their hands, faces and clothes were very dirty, and they were thoroughly unprepossessing; yet Wei's face lit up with pleasure, and getting up at once he walked to the other room, saying:
"Come, Ta-liang, Erh-liang, all of you! I have bought the mouth-organs you wanted yesterday."
The children rushed in after him, to return immediately with a mouth-organ apiece; but once outside they started fighting, and one of them cried.
"There's one each; they're exactly the same. Don't squabble!" he said as he followed them.
"Whose children are they?" I asked.
"The landlord's. They have no mother, only a grandmother."
"Your landlord is a widower?"
"Yes. His wife died three or four years ago, and he has not remarried. Otherwise, he would not rent his spare rooms to a bachelor like me." He said this with a cold smile.
I wanted very much to ask why he had remained single so long, but I did not know him well enough.
Once you knew him well, he was a good talker. He was full of ideas, many of them quite remarkable. What exasperated me were some of his guests. As a result, probably, of reading Yu Ta-fu's romantic stories,1 they constantly referred to themselves as "the young unfortunate" or "the outcast"; and, sprawling on the big chairs like lazy and arrogant crabs, they would sigh, smoke and frown all at the same time.
Then there were the landlord's children, who always fought among themselves, knocked over bowls and plates, begged for cakes and kept up an ear-splitting din. Yet the sight of them invariably dispelled Wei's customary coldness, and they seemed to be the most precious thing in his life. Once the third child was said to have measles. He was so worried that his dark face took on an even darker hue. The attack proved a light one, however, and thereafter the children's grandmother made a joke of his anxiety.
Apparently sensing my impatience, he seized an opening one day to say, "Children are always good. They are all so innocent. . . . ."
"Not always," I answered casually.
"Always. Children have none of the faults of grown-ups. If they turn out badly later, as you contend, it is because they have been moulded by their environment. Originally they are nor bad, but innocent. . . . I think China's only hope lies in this."
"I don't agree. Without the root of evil, how could they bear evil fruit in later life? Take a seed, for example. It is because it contains the embryo leaves, flowers and fruits, that later it grows into these things. There must be a cause. . . ." Since my unemployment, just like those great officials who resigned from office and took up Buddhism, I had been reading the Buddhist sutras. I did not understand Buddhist philosophy though, and was just talking at random.
However, Wei was annoyed. He gave me a look, then said no more. I could nor tell whether he had no more to say, or whether he felt it not worth arguing with me. But he looked cold again, as he had nor done for a long time, and smoked two cigarettes one after the other in silence. By the time he reached for the third cigarette, I beat a retreat.
Our estrangement lasted three months. Then, owing in part to forgetfulness, in part to the fact that he fell out with those "innocent" children, he came to consider my slighting remarks on children as excusable. Or so I surmised. This happened in my house after drinking one day, when, with a rather melancholy look, he cocked his head and said:
"Come to think of it, it's really curious. On my way here I met a small child with a reed in his hand, which he pointed at me, shouting, 'Kill!' He was just a toddler. . . ."
"He must have been moulded by his environment."
As soon as I had said this, I wanted to take it back. However, he did not seem to care, just went on drinking heavily, smoking furiously in between.
"I meant to ask you," I said, trying to change the subject. "You don't usually call on people, what made you come out today? I've known you for more than a year, yet this is the first time you've been here."
"I was just going to tell you: don't call on me for the time being. There are a father and son in my place who are perfect pests. They are scarcely human!"
"Father and son? Who are they?" I was surprised.
"My cousin and his son. Well, the son resembles the father."
"I suppose they came to town to see you and have a good time?"
"No. They came to talk me into adopting the boy."
"What, to adopt the boy?" I exclaimed in amazement. "But you are not married."
"They know I won't marry. But that's nothing to them. Actually they want to inherit that tumbledown house of mine in the village. I have no other property, you know; as soon as I get money I spend it. I've only that house. Their purpose in life is to drive out the old maidservant who is living in the place for the time being."
The cynicism of his remark took me aback. However I tried to soothe him, by saying:
"I don't think your relatives can be so bad. They are only rather old-fashioned. For instance, that year when you cried bitterly, they came forward eagerly to plead with you.
"When I was a child and my father died, I cried bitterly because they wanted to take the house from me and make me put my mark on the document. They came forward eagerly then to plead with me. . . ." He looked up, as if searching the air for that bygone scene.
"The crux of the matter is—you have no children. Why don't you get married?" I had found a way to change the subject, and this was something I had been wanting to ask for a long time. It seemed an excellent opportunity.
He looked at me in surprise, then dropped his gaze to his knees, and started smoking. I received no answer to my question.
III
Yet he was not allowed to enjoy even this inane existence in peace. Gradually anonymous attacks appeared in the less reputable papers, and rumours concerning him were spread in the schools. This was not the simple gossip of the old days, but deliberately damaging. I knew this was the outcome of articles he had taken to writing for magazines, so I paid no attention. The citizens of S—— disliked nothing more than fearless argument, and anyone guilty of it indubitably became the object of secret attacks. This was the rule, and Wei knew it too. However, in spring, when I heard he had been asked by the school authorities to resign, I confessed it surprised me. Of course, this was only to be expected, and it surprised me simply because I had hoped my friend would escape. The citizens of S—— were not proving more vicious than usual.
I was occupied then with my own problems, negotiating to go to a school in Shanyang that autumn, so I had no time to call on him. Some three months passed before I was at leisure, and even then it had not occurred to me to visit him. One day, passing the main street, I happened to pause before a secondhand bookstall, where I was startled to see an early edition of the Commentaries on Ssuma Chien's "Historical Records"2 from Wei's collection on display. He was no connoisseur, but he loved books, and I knew he prized this particular one. He must be very hard pressed to have sold it. It seemed scarcely possible he could have become so poor only two or three months after losing his job; yet he spent money as soon as he had it, and had never saved. I decided to call on him. On the same street I bought a bottle of liquor, two packages of peanuts and two smoked fish-heads.
His door was closed. I called out twice, but there was no reply. Thinking he was asleep, I called louder, at the same time hammering on the door.
"He's probably out." The children's grandmother, a fat woman with small eyes, thrust her grey head our from the opposite window, and spoke impatiently.
"Where has he gone?" I asked.
"Where? Who knows—where could he go? You can wait, he will be back soon."
I pushed open the door and went into his sitting-room. It was greatly changed, looking desolate in its emptiness. There was little furniture left, while all that remained of his library were those foreign books which could not be sold. The middle of the room was still occupied by the table around which those woeful and gallant young men, unrecognized geniuses, and dirty, noisy children had formerly gathered. Now it all seemed very quiet, and there was a thin layer of dust on the table. I put the bottle and packages down, pulled over a chair, and sat down by the table facing the door.
Very soon, sure enough, the door opened, and someone stepped in as silently as a shadow. It was Wei. It might have been the twilight that made his face look dark; but his expression was unchanged.
"Ah, it's you? How long have you been here?" He seemed pleased.
"Not very long," I said. "Where have you been?"
"Nowhere in particular. Just taking a stroll."
He pulled up a chair too and sat by the table. We started drinking, and spoke of his losing his job. However, he did not care to talk much about it, considering it only to be expected. He had come across many similar cases. It was not strange at all, and nor worth discussing. As usual, he drank heavily, and discoursed on society and the study of history. Something made me glance at the empty bookshelves, and, remembering the Commentaries on Ssuma Chien's "Historical Records", I was conscious of a slight loneliness and sadness.
"Your sitting-room has a deserted look
Have you had fewer visitors recently?"
"None at all. They don't find it much fun when I'm not in a good mood. A bad mood certainly makes people uncomfortable Just as no one goes to the park in winter. . . ."
He took two sips of liquor in succession, then fell silent. Suddenly, looking up, he asked, "I suppose you have had no luck either in finding work?"
Although I knew he was only venting his feelings as a result of drinking, I felt indignant at the way people treated him. Just as I was about to say something, he pricked up his ears, then, scooping up some peanuts, went our. Outside, I could hear the laughter and shouts of the children.
But as soon as he went out, the children became quiet. It sounded as if they had left. He went after them, and said something, but I could hear no reply. Then, as silent as a shadow, he came back and put the handful of peanuts back in the package.
"They don't even want to eat anything I give them," he said sarcastically, in a low voice.
"Old Wei," I said, forcing a smile, although I was sick at heart, "I think you are tormenting yourself unnecessarily. Why think so poorly of your fellow men?"
He only smiled cynically.
"I haven't finished yet. I suppose you consider people like me, who come here occasionally, do so in order to kill time or amuse themselves at your expense?"
"No, I don't. Well, sometimes I do. Perhaps they come to find something to talk about."
"Then you are wrong. People are not like that. You are really wrapping yourself up in a cocoon. You should take a more cheerful view." I sighed.
"Maybe. But tell me, where does the thread for the cocoon come from? Of course, there are plenty of people like that; take my grandmother, for example. Although I have none of her blood in my veins, I may inherit her fate. But that doesn't matter, I have already bewailed my fate together with hers. . . ."
Then I remembered what had happened at his grandmother's funeral. I could almost see it before my eyes.
"I still don't understand why you cried so bitterly," I said bluntly.
"You mean at my grandmother's funeral? No, you wouldn't." He lit the lamp. "I suppose it was because of that that we became friends," he said quietly. "You know, this grandmother was my grandfather's second wife. My father's own mother died when he was three." Growing thoughtful, he drank silently, and finished a smoked fish-head.
"I didn't know it to begin with. Only, from my childhood I was puzzled. Ar that time my father was still alive, and our family was well off. During the lunar New Year we would hang up the ancestral images and hold a grand sacrifice. It was one of my rare pleasures to look at those splendidly dressed images. At that time a maidservant would always carry me to an image, and point at it, saying: 'This is your own grandmother. Bow to her so that she will protect you and make you grow up strong and healthy.' I could not understand how I came to have another grandmother, in addition to the one beside me. But I liked this grandmother who was 'my own.' She was not as old as the granny at home. Young and beautiful, wearing a red costume with golden embroidery and a headdress decked with pearls, she resembled my mother. When I looked at her, her eyes seemed to gaze down on me, and a faint smile appeared on her lips. I knew she was very fond of me too.
"But I liked the granny at home too, who sat all day under the window slowly plying her needle. However, no matter how merrily I laughed and played in front of her, or called to her, I could not make her laugh; and that made me feel she was cold, unlike other children's grandmothers. Still, I liked her. Later on, though, I gradually cooled towards her, nor because I grew older and learned she was not my own grandmother, but rather because I was exasperated by the way she kept on sewing mechanically, day in, day our. She was unchanged, however. She sewed, looked after me, loved and protected me as before; and though she seldom smiled, she never scolded me. It was the same after my father died. Later on, we lived almost entirely on her sewing, so it was still the same, until I went to school. . . ."
The light flickered as the paraffin gave out, and he stood up to refill the lamp from a small tin kettle under the bookcase.
"The price of paraffin has gone up twice this month," he said slowly, after turning up the wick. "Life becomes harder every day. She remained the same until I graduated from school and had a job, when our life became more secure. She didn't change, I suppose, until she was sick, couldn't carry on, and had to take to her bed. . . .
"Since her later days, I think, were not too unhappy on the whole, and she lived to a great age, I need not have mourned. Besides, weren't there a lot of others there eager to wail? Even those who had tried their hardest to rob her, wailed, or appeared bowed down with grief." He laughed. "However, at that moment her whole life rose to my mind—the life of one who created loneliness for herself and tasted its bitterness. I felt there were many people like that. I wanted to weep for them; but perhaps it was largely because I was too sentimental. . . .
"Your present advice to me is what I felt with regard to her. But actually my ideas at that time were wrong. As for myself, since I grew up my feelings for her cooled. . . ."
He paused, with a cigarette between his fingers; and bending his head lost himself in thought. The lamplight flickered.
"Well, it is hard to live so that no one will mourn for your death," he said, as if to himself. After a pause he looked up at me, and said, "I suppose you can't help? I shall have to find something to do very soon."
"Have you no other friends you could ask?" I was in no position to help myself then, let alone others.
"I have a few, but they are all in the same boat. . . ."
When I left him, the full moon was high in the sky and the night was very still.
IV
The teaching profession in Shanyang was no bed of roses. I taught for two months without receiving a cent of salary, until I had to cut down on cigarettes. But the school staff, even those earning only fifteen or sixteen dollars a month, were easily contented. They all had iron constitutions steeled by hardship, and, although lean and haggard, they worked from morning till night; while if interrupted at work by their superiors, they stood up respectfully. Thus they all practised plain living and high thinking. This reminded me, somehow, of Wei's parting words. He was then even more hard up, and often looked embarrassed, having apparently lost his former cynicism. When he heard that I was leaving, he came late at night to see me off, and, after hesitating for some rime, he stuttered:
"Would there be anything for me there? Even copying work, at twenty to thirty dollars a month, would do. I . . . ."
I was surprised. I had not thought he would consider anything so low, and did nor know how to answer.
"I . . . I have to live a little longer. . . ."
"I'll look out when I get there. I'll do my best."
This was what I had promised at the rime, and the words often rang in my ears later, as if Wei were still before me, stuttering: "I have to live a little longer." I tried to interest various people in his case, but to no avail. Since there were few vacancies, and many unemployed, these people always ended by apologizing for being unable to help, and I would write him an apologetic letter. By the end of the term, things had gone from bad to worse. The magazine Reason, edited by some of the local gentry, began to attack me. Naturally no names were mentioned, but it cleverly insinuated that I was stirring up trouble in the school, even my recommendation of Wei being interpreted as a manoeuvre to gather a clique about me.
So I had to keep quiet. Apart from attending class, I lay low in my room, sometimes when cigarette smoke escaped from my window, I even feared they might consider I was stirring up trouble. For Wei, naturally, I could do nothing. This state of affairs prevailed till midwinter.
It had been snowing all day, and the snow had not stopped by evening. Outside was so still, you could almost hear the sound of stillness. I closed my eyes and sat there in the dim lamplight doing nothing, imagining the snow-flakes falling, creating boundless drifts of snow. It would be nearly New Year at home too, and everybody would be busy. I saw myself a child again, making a snow man with a group of children on the level ground in the back yard. The eyes of the snow man, made of jet-black fragments of coal, suddenly turned into Wei's eyes.
"I have to live a little longer." The same voice again.
"What for?" I asked inadvertently, aware immediately of the ineptitude of my remark.
This reply woke me up. I sat up, lit a cigarette and opened the window, only to find the snow' falling even faster. I heard a knock at the door, and a moment later it opened to admit the servant, whose step I knew. He handed me a big envelope, more than six inches in length. The address was scrawled, but I saw Wei's name on it.
This was the first letter he had written me since I left S——. Knowing he was a bad correspondent, I had not wondered at his silence, only sometimes I had felt he should have given me some news of himself. The receipt of this letter was quite a surprise. I tore it open. The letter had been hastily scrawled, and said:
". . . Shen-fei,
"How should I address you? I am leaving a blank for you to fill in as you please. It will be all the same to me.
"I have received three letters from you altogether. I did nor reply for one simple reason: I had no money even to buy stamps.
"Perhaps you would like to know what has happened to me. To put it simply: I have failed. I thought I had failed before, but I was wrong then; now, however, I am really a failure. Formerly there was someone who wanted me to live a little longer, and I wished it too, but found it difficult. Now, there is no need, yet I must go on living. . . .
"Shall I live on?
"The one who wanted me to live a little longer could not live himself. He was trapped and killed by the enemy. Who killed him? No one knows.
"Changes take place so swiftly! During the last half year I have virtually been a beggar; it's true, I could be considered a beggar. However, I had my purpose: I was willing to beg for the cause, to go cold and hungry for it, to be lonely for it, to suffer hardship for it. But I did not want to destroy myself. So you see, the fact that one person wanted me to live on, proved extremely potent. Now there is no one, nor one. Ar the same time I feel I do nor deserve to live, nor, in my opinion, do some other people. Yet, I am conscious of wanting to live on to spite those who wish me dead; for at least there is no one left who wants me to live decently, and so no one will be hurt. I don't want to hurt such people. But now there is no one, not one. What a joy! Wonderful! I am now doing what I formerly detested and opposed. I am now giving up all I formerly believed in and upheld. I have really failed—but I have won.
"Do you think I am mad? Do you think I have become a hero or a great man? No, it is not that. It is very simple; I have become adviser to General Tu, hence I have eighty dollars salary a month.
". . .Shen-fei,.
"What will you think of me? You decide; it is all the same to me. . .
"Perhaps you still remember my former sitting-room, the one in which we had our first and last talks. I am still using it. There are new guests, new bribes, new flattery, new seeking for promotion, new kowtows and bows, new mahjong and drinking games, new haughtiness and disgust, new sleeplessness and vomiting of blood. . . .
"You said in your last letter that your teaching was nor going well. Would you like to be an adviser? Say the word, and I will arrange it for you. Actually, work in the gatehouse would be the same. There would be the same guests, bribes and flattery. . .
"It is snowing heavily here. How is it where you are? It is now midnight, and having just vomited some blood has sobered me. I recall that you have actually written three times in succession to me since autumn—amazing! I give you this news of myself, hoping you will not be shocked..
"I probably shall nor write again; you know my ways of old. When will you be back? If you come soon, we may meet again. Still, I suppose we have taken different roads; you had better forget me. I thank you from the bottom of my heart for trying to find work for me. Now please forget me; I am doing 'well.'.
Wei Lien-shu
December 14th.
Though this letter did not "shock" me, when, after a hasty perusal, I read it carefully again, I felt both uneasy and relieved. At least his livelihood was secure, and I need not worry about that any more. At any rate, I could do nothing here. I thought of writing to him, but felt there was nothing to say.
In fact, I gradually forgot him. His face no longer sprang so often to my mind's eye. However, less than ten days after hearing from him, the office of the S—— Weekly started sending me its paper. I did not read such papers as a rule, but since it was sent to me I glanced at some of the contents. This reminded me of Wei, for the paper frequently carried poems and essays about him, such as "Calling on scholar Wei at night during a snowstorm," "A poetic gathering at the scholarly abode of Adviser Wei," and so forth. Once, indeed, under the heading "Table Talk," they retailed with gusto certain stories which had previously been considered material for ridicule, but which had now become "Tales of an Eccentric Genius." Only an exceptional man, it was implied, could have done such unusual things.
Although this recalled him to me, my impression of him grew fainter. Yet all the time he seemed to gain a closer hold on me, which often filled me with an inexplicable sense of uneasiness and a shadowy apprehension. However, by autumn the newspaper stopped coming, while the Shanyang magazine began to publish the first instalment of a long essay called "The element of truth in rumours," which asserted that rumours about certain gentlemen had reached the ears of the mighty. My name was among those attacked. I had to be very careful then. I had to take care that my cigarette smoke did not get in other people's way. All these precautions took so much time I could attend to nothing else, and naturally had no leisure to think of Wei. I actually forgot him.
I could nor hold my job till summer. By the end of May I had to leave Shanyang.
V
I wandered between Shanyang, Licheng and Taiku for more than half a year, but could find no work, so I decided to go back to S——. I arrived one afternoon in early spring. It was a cloudy day with everything wrapped in mist. Since there were vacant rooms in my old hostel, I stayed there. On the road I started to think of Wei, and after my arrival I made up my mind to call on him after dinner. Taking two packages of the well-known Wenhsi cakes, I threaded my way through several damp streets, stepping cautiously past many sleeping dogs, until I reached his door. It seemed very bright inside. I thought even his rooms were better lit since he had become an adviser, and smiled to myself. However, when I looked up, I saw a strip of white paper3 stuck on the door. It occurred to me, as I stepped inside, that the children's grandmother might be dead; but I went straight in.
In the dimly lit courtyard there was a coffin, by which some soldier or orderly in uniform was standing, talking to the children's grandmother. A few workers in short coats were loitering there too. My heart began to beat faster. Just then she turned to look at me.
"Ah, you're back?" she exclaimed. "Why didn't you come earlier?"
"Who . . . who has passed away?" Actually by now I knew, yet I asked all the same.
"Adviser Wei died the day before yesterday."
I looked around. The sitting-room was dimly lit, probably by one lamp only; the front room, however, was decked with white funeral curtains, and the woman's grandchildren had gathered outside that room.
"His body is there," she said, coming forward and pointing to the front room. "After Mr. Wei was promoted, I let him my front room too; that is where he is now."
There was no writing on the funeral curtain. In front stood a long table, then a square table, spread with some dozen dishes. As I went in, two men in long white gowns suddenly appeared to bar the way, their eyes, like those of a dead fish, fixed in surprise and mistrust on my face. I hastily explained my relationship with Wei, and the landlady came up to confirm my statement. Then their hands and eyes dropped, and they allowed me to go forward to bow to the dead.
As I bowed, a wail sounded beside me from the floor. Looking down I saw a child of about ten, also dressed in white, kneeling on a mat. His hair had been cut short, and had some hemp attached to it.
Later I found out one of these men was Wei's cousin, his nearest in kin, while the other was a distant nephew. I asked to be allowed to see Wei, but they tried their best to dissuade me, saying I was too "polite." Finally they gave in, and lifted the curtain.
This time I saw Wei in death. But, strangely enough, though he was wearing a crumpled shirt, stained in front with blood, and his face was very lean, his expression was unchanged. He was sleeping so placidly, with closed mouth and eyes, that I was tempted to put my finger before his nostrils to see if he were still breathing.
Everything was deathly still, both the living and the dead. As I withdrew, his cousin accosted me to state that Wei's untimely death, just when he was in the prime of life and had a great future before him, was not only a calamity for his humble family but a cause of sorrow for his friends. He seemed to be apologizing for Wei for dying. Such eloquence is rare among villagers. However, after that he fell silent again and everything was deathly still, both the living and the dead.
Feeling cheerless, but by no means sad, I withdrew to the courtyard to chat with the old woman. She told me the funeral would soon take place. They were waiting for the shroud, she said, and when the coffin was nailed down, people born under certain stars should nor be near. She rattled on, her words pouring out like a flood. She spoke of Wei's illness, incidents during his life, and even voiced certain criticisms.
"You know, after Mr. Wei came into luck, he was a different man. He held his head high and looked very haughty. He stopped treating people in his old formal way. Did you know, he used to act like an idiot, and call me madam? Later on, she chuckled, "he called me 'old bitch'; it was too funny for words. When people sent him rare herbs like atractylis, instead of eating them himself, he would throw them into the courtyard, just here, and call out, 'You take this, old bitch!' After he came into luck, he had scores of visitors; so I vacated my front room for him, and moved into a side one. As we have always said jokingly, he became a different man after his good luck. If you had come one month earlier, you could have seen all the fun here: drinking games practically every day, talking, laughing, singing, poetry writing and mah-jong games. . . .
"He used to be more afraid of children than they are of their own father, practically grovelling to them. But recently that changed too, and he was a good one for jokes. My grandchildren liked to play with him, and would go to his rooms whenever they could. He would think up all sorts of practical jokes. For instance, when they wanted him to buy things for them, he would make them bark like dogs or make a thumping kowtow. Ah, that was fun. Two months ago, my second grandchild asked Mr. Wei to buy him a pair of shoes, and had to make three thumping kowtows. He's still wearing them; they aren't worn out yet."
When one of the men in white came out, she stopped talking. I asked about Wei's illness, but there was little she could tell me. She knew only that he had been losing weight for a long time, but they had thought nothing of it because he always looked so cheerful. About a month before, they heard he had been coughing blood, but it seemed he had not seen a doctor. Then he had to stay in bed, and three days before he died he seemed to have lost the power of speech. His cousin had come all the way from the village to ask him if he had any savings, but he said not a word. His cousin thought he was shamming, but some people say those dying of consumption do lose the power of speech. . . .
"But Mr. Wei was a queer man," she suddenly whispered. "He never saved money, always spent it like water. His cousin still suspects we got something out of him. Heaven knows, we got nothing. He just spent it in his haphazard way. Buying something today, selling it tomorrow, or breaking it up—God knows what happened. When he died there was nothing left, all spent! Otherwise it would not be so dismal today. . . .
"He just fooled about, not wanting to do the proper thing. At his age, he should have got married; I had thought of that, and spoken to him. It would have been easy for him then. And if no suitable family could be found, at least he could have bought a few concubines to go on with. People should keep up appearances. But he would laugh whenever I brought it up. 'Old bitch, you are always worrying about such things for other people,' he would say. He was never serious, you see; he wouldn't listen to good advice. If he had listened to me, he wouldn't be wandering lonely in the nether world now; at least his dear ones would be wailing. . . . ."
A shop assistant arrived, bringing some clothes with him. The three relatives of the dead picked out the underwear, then disappeared behind the curtain. Soon, the curtain was lifted; the new underwear had been put on the corpse, and they proceeded to put on his outer garments. I was surprised to see them dress him in a pair of khaki military trousers with broad red stripes, and a tunic with glittering epaulettes. I did not know what rank these indicated, or how he had acquired it. The body was placed in the coffin. Wei lay there awkwardly, a pair of brown leather shoes beside his feet, a paper sword at his waist, and beside his lean and ashen face a military cap with a gilt band.
The three relatives wailed beside the coffin, then stopped and wiped away their tears. The boy with hemp attached to his hair withdrew, as did the old woman's third grandchild—no doubt they were born under the wrong stars.
As the labourers lifted the coffin lid, I stepped forward to see Wei for the last time.
In his awkward costume he lay placidly, with closed mouth and eyes. There seemed to be an ironical smile on his lips, mocking the ridiculous corpse.
When they began to hammer in the nails, the wailing started afresh. I could not stand it very long, so I withdrew to the courtyard; then, somehow, I was out of the gate. The damp road glistened, and I looked up at the sky where the cloud banks had scattered and a full moon hung, shedding a cold light.
I walked with quickened steps, as if eager to break through some heavy barrier, but finding it impossible. Something struggled in my ears, and, after a long, long time, burst out. It was like a long howl, the howl of a wounded wolf crying in the wilderness in the depth of night, anger and sorrow mingled in its agony.
Then my heart felt lighter, and I paced calmly on under the moon along the damp cobbled road.
1. A contemporary of Lu Hsun's, who wrote ahout repressed young men.
2. By Ssuma Chen of the Tang dynasty (618-907).
3. White is the mourning colour in China. White paper on the door indicated that there had heen a death in the house.