Love - of - Life - by - Jack - London[2] - 图文(7)

Love of Life by Jack London

was stark madness, perhaps, but in the very grip of Death he defied Death and refused to die.

He closed his eyes and composed himself with infinite precaution. He steeled himself to keep above the suffocating languor that lapped like a rising tide through all the wells of his being. It was very like a sea, this deadly languor, that rose and rose and drowned his consciousness bit by bit. Sometimes he was all but submerged, swimming through oblivion with a faltering stroke; and again, by some strange alchemy of soul, he would find another shred of will and strike out more strongly.

Without movement he lay on his back, and he could hear, slowly drawing near and nearer, the wheezing intake and output of the sick wolf's breath. It drew closer, ever closer, through an infinitude of time, and he did not move. It was at his ear. The harsh dry tongue grated like sandpaper against his cheek. His hands shot out - or at least he willed them to shoot out. The fingers were curved like talons, but they closed on empty air. Swiftness and certitude require strength, and the man had not this strength.

The patience of the wolf was terrible. The man's patience was no less terrible. For half a day he lay motionless, fighting off unconsciousness

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Love of Life by Jack London

and waiting for the thing that was to feed upon him and upon which he wished to feed. Sometimes the languid sea rose over him and he dreamed long dreams; but ever through it all, waking and dreaming, he waited for the wheezing breath and the harsh caress of the tongue.

He did not hear the breath, and he slipped slowly from some dream to the feel of the tongue along his hand. He waited. The fangs pressed softly; the pressure increased; the wolf was exerting its last strength in an effort to sink teeth in the food for which it had waited so long. But the man had waited long, and the lacerated hand closed on the jaw. Slowly, while the wolf struggled feebly and the hand clutched feebly, the other hand crept across to a grip. Five minutes later the whole weight of the man's body was on top of the wolf. The hands had not sufficient strength to choke the wolf, but the face of the man was pressed close to the throat of the wolf and the mouth of the man was full of hair. At the end of half an hour the man was aware of a warm trickle in his throat. It was not pleasant. It was like molten lead being forced into his stomach, and it was forced by his will alone. Later the man rolled over on his back and slept.

There were some members of a scientific expedition on the whale- ship Bedford. From the deck they remarked a strange object on the shore. It was moving down the beach toward the water. They were unable to

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Love of Life by Jack London

classify it, and, being scientific men, they climbed into the whale-boat alongside and went ashore to see. And they saw something that was alive but which could hardly be called a man. It was blind, unconscious. It squirmed along the ground like some monstrous worm. Most of its efforts were ineffectual, but it was persistent, and it writhed and twisted and went ahead perhaps a score of feet an hour.

Three weeks afterward the man lay in a bunk on the whale-ship Bedford, and with tears streaming down his wasted cheeks told who he was and what he had undergone. He also babbled incoherently of his mother, of sunny Southern California, and a home among the orange groves and flowers.

The days were not many after that when he sat at table with the scientific men and ship's officers. He gloated over the spectacle of so much food, watching it anxiously as it went into the mouths of others. With the disappearance of each mouthful an expression of deep regret came into his eyes. He was quite sane, yet he hated those men at mealtime. He was haunted by a fear that the food would not last. He inquired of the cook, the cabin-boy, the captain, concerning the food stores. They reassured him countless times; but he could not believe them, and pried cunningly about the lazarette to see with his own eyes.

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Love of Life by Jack London

It was noticed that the man was getting fat. He grew stouter with each day. The scientific men shook their heads and theorized. They limited the man at his meals, but still his girth increased and he swelled prodigiously under his shirt.

The sailors grinned. They knew. And when the scientific men set a watch on the man, they knew too. They saw him slouch for'ard after breakfast, and, like a mendicant, with outstretched palm, accost a sailor. The sailor grinned and passed him a fragment of sea biscuit. He clutched it avariciously, looked at it as a miser looks at gold, and thrust it into his shirt bosom. Similar were the donations from other grinning sailors.

The scientific men were discreet. They let him alone. But they privily examined his bunk. It was lined with hardtack; the mattress was stuffed with hardtack; every nook and cranny was filled with hardtack. Yet he was sane. He was taking precautions against another possible famine - that was all. He would recover from it, the scientific men said; and he did, ere the Bedford's anchor rumbled down in San Francisco Bay.

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《热爱生命》by Jack London

如果印出来，应该是很薄的一本书，读过之后，给人的震撼却够重。

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Love of Life by Jack London

文中主人公甚至没有一个名字，杰克伦敦称他为“他”，这个人是个淘金者，在森林中受了伤，又被同伴抛弃，饥渴交加，身后跟着一匹恶狼，随时准备吃掉他的尸体——这狼也又老又弱，否则早就扑上去了。最初支撑他的，只是不要被这么差劲的狼吃掉的想法，而后，慢慢变成了一种固执，他一定要活下去，一定，一定。

人或许热爱生命，或许并不。而“他”却是明白的，“A vain and fleeting thing. It was only life that pained. There was no hurt in death. To die was to sleep. It meant cessation, rest. Then why was he not content to die?” 生命就是如此，是一种徒劳无功、转瞬即逝的东西。只有活着才感到痛苦，死并没有什么难过。死就等于睡觉，它意味着结束，休息。??那么，你如此努力，又是为了什么？也许只是种固执，偏偏就是不肯输，虽然生命如此无趣，但是任何人不要想把它从我手中夺走！还有就是生命本身的惯性，蝼蚁且偷生啊，虽然，鬼知道是为了什么。 ??那样的情形下，他仍在理智的挣扎，吃一切能入口的东西，野草，被野兽吃剩下的带着鲜红的肉丝的骨头，青蛙和虫??到了最后几天，他已经无法走路，只能爬行，膝盖被磨得见骨。当他被人发现时，是这个样子的“捕鲸船白德福号上，有几个科学考察队的人员。他们从甲板上望见岸上有一个奇怪的东西。它正在向沙滩下面的水面挪动。他们没法分清它是哪一类动物，但是，因为他们都是研究科学的人，他们就乘了船旁边的一条捕鲸艇，到岸上去察看。接着，他们发现了一个活着的动物，可是很难把它称作人。它已经瞎了，失去了知觉。它就象一条大虫子在地上蠕动着前进。它用的力气大半都不起作

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Love of Life by Jack London

用，但是它老不停，它一面摇晃，一面向前扭动，照它这样，一点钟大概可以爬上二十尺。”

极为朴素的言语，刻画出了一个极为坚韧的灵魂，让人肃然起敬。我崇拜这样的强者，你们让生命了不起，让我对于成为人类的一份子少了几分无奈。

然，现实中，强极易辱，情深不寿，假恶丑永存，真善美易逝，逆向选择，是恒久不变的规律。

那文章写得很好，我评的一般，久没动笔，才力消磨了??还是原文比较好看。

医治一切的是时间,以及新的磨难.不要以为痛到底就不会再痛,断手断脚的也会受不了肉中的新刺.所以,面对现实中的新的困扰,旧的伤口渐渐被抛到脑后.所以,这些大大小小的坑洼,这些鞋里沙粒般的细碎闲气,恰恰救了我.不再整日整夜地去想那家伙,曾经在我身边的,如今沉睡于黄土之下的那个人.曾经那样无边无际的绝望,如今在哪里?当陷入生存的竞争之后,不容你退却,不容你思考,你必须站稳脚跟,然后一直走下去.你必须足够强大乐观,必须走得比周围的人更快更好,这就是现实,这就是成长之后所必然要面对的.没有人原谅你，如果你说I 'm not ready.而我，真的没有准备好。不断的变化，让我手足无措，木然面对一切，反被认为胸有成竹，当结果并不坏时，人们更加确定了我的早有准备，于是也便沉默地接受了这种说法。每天在人群中行走，像面镜子，各色人等映入眼底，却从不入心，也慢慢暴露了并不在意他们的本质。

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