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第37章

crome yellow(克罗姆·耶娄)-第37章

小说: crome yellow(克罗姆·耶娄) 字数: 每页4000字

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have   a   first…hand   knowledge   of   the   workings   of   a   poet's   mind;   Denis; 

perhaps you can explain。〃 

     〃What could be simpler;〃 said Denis。             〃It's a beautiful word; and Ivor 

wanted to say that the wings were golden。〃 

     〃You make it luminously clear。〃 

     〃One   suffers   so   much;〃   Denis   went   on;   〃from  the   fact   that   beautiful 

words don't always mean what they ought to mean。 Recently; for example; 

I   had   a   whole   poem   ruined;   just   because   the   word   'carminative'   didn't 

mean what it ought to have meant。 Carminativeit's admirable; isn't it?〃 

     〃Admirable;〃 Mr。 Scogan agreed。             〃And what does it mean?〃 

     〃It's  a   word    I've  treasured    from   my    earliest   infancy;〃   said   Denis; 

〃treasured and loved。        They used to give me cinnamon when I had a cold… 

…quite useless; but not disagreeable。            One poured it drop by drop out of 

narrow bottles; a golden liquor; fierce and fiery。            On the label was a list of 

its virtues; and among other things it was described as being in the highest 

degree carminative。         I adored the word。        'Isn't it carminative?' I used to 

say   to   myself   when   I'd   taken   my   dose。     It   seemed   so   wonderfully   to 

describe that sensation of internal warmth; that glow; thatwhat shall I call 

it?physical   self…satisfaction   which   followed   the   drinking   of   cinnamon。 

Later;    when    I  discovered     alcohol;    'carminative'    described     for  me   that 

similar; but nobler; more spiritual glow which wine evokes not only in the 

body   but   in   the   soul   as   well。 The   carminative   virtues   of   burgundy;   of 

rum; of old brandy; of Lacryma Christi; of Marsala; of Aleatico; of stout; 

of gin; of champagne; of claret; of the raw new wine of this year's Tuscan 

vintageI compared them; I classified them。                Marsala is rosily; downily 

carminative; gin pricks and refreshes while it warms。                I had a whole table 

of   carmination   values。      And   now〃Denis   spread   out   his   hands;   palms 

upwards; despairingly〃now I know what carminative really means。〃 

     〃Well; what DOES it mean?〃 asked Mr。 Scogan; a little impatiently。 

     〃Carminative;〃       said   Denis;    lingering     lovingly    over    the  syllables; 

〃carminative。       I   imagined     vaguely     that  it  had   something     to   do  with 

carmen…carminis; still more vaguely with caro…carnis; and its derivations; 

like carnival   and   carnation。      Carminativethere   was   the idea   of   singing 

and   the   idea of   flesh;  rose…coloured   and   warm;  with   a   suggestion   of   the 



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jollities of mi…Careme and the masked holidays of Venice。                 Carminative 

the warmth; the glow; the interior ripeness were all in the word。                 Instead 

of which。。。〃 

     〃Do come to the point; my dear Denis;〃 protested Mr。 Scogan。                     〃Do 

come to the point。〃 

     〃Well;   I   wrote   a   poem   the   other   day;〃   said   Denis;   〃I   wrote   a   poem 

about the effects of love。〃 

     〃Others have done the same before you;〃 said Mr。 Scogan。                   〃There is 

no need to be ashamed。〃 

     〃I was putting forward the notion;〃 Denis went on; 〃that the effects of 

love were often similar to the effects of wine; that Eros could intoxicate as 

well as Bacchus。        Love; for example; is essentially carminative。            It gives 

one the sense of warmth; the glow。 

     'And passion carminative as wine。。。' 

     was what I wrote。        Not only was the line elegantly sonorous; it was 

also;     I   flattered    myself;     very     aptly    compendiously        expressive。 

Everything was in the word carminativea detailed; exact foreground; an 

immense; indefinite hinterland of suggestion。 

     'And passion carminative as wine。。。' 

     I was not ill…pleased。      And then suddenly it occurred to me that I had 

never actually looked up the word in a dictionary。 Carminative had grown 

up   with   me   from   the   days   of   the   cinnamon   bottle。 It   had   always   been 

taken for granted。       Carminative:       for me the word was as rich in content 

as some tremendous; elaborate work of art; it was a complete landscape 

with figures。 

     'And passion carminative as wine。。。' 

     It was the first time I had ever committed the word to writing; and all 

at   once   I  felt  I  would   like  lexicographical      authority   for  it。  A   small 

English…German dictionary was all I had at hand。                I turned up C; ca; car; 

carm。     There   it   was:   'Carminative:   windtreibend。'        Windtreibend!〃   he 

repeated。     Mr。   Scogan   laughed。   Denis   shook   his   head。      〃Ah;〃   he   said; 

〃for me it was no laughing matter。           For me it marked the end of a chapter; 

the death of something young and precious。               There were the yearsyears 

of childhood and innocencewhen I had believed that carminative meant 



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well;   carminative。      And   now;   before   me   lies   the   rest   of   my   lifea   day; 

perhaps;   ten   years;   half   a   century;   when   I   shall   know   that   carminative 

means windtreibend。 

     'Plus ne suis ce que j'ai ete Et ne le saurai jamais etre。' 

     It is a realisation that makes one rather melancholy。〃 

     〃Carminative;〃 said Mr。 Scogan thoughtfully。 

     〃Carminative;〃       Denis     repeated;    and   they   were    silent   for  a   time。 

〃Words;〃 said Denis at last; 〃wordsI wonder if you can realise how much 

I love them。       You are too much preoccupied with mere things and ideas 

and people to understand the full beauty of words。                  Your mind is not a 

literary mind。      The spectacle of Mr。 Gladstone finding thirty…four rhymes 

to   the   name   'Margot'   seems   to   you   rather   pathetic   than   anything   else。 

Mallarme's envelopes with their versified addresses leave you cold; unless 

they leave you pitiful; you can't see that 

     'Apte a ne point te cabrer; hue! Poste et j'ajouterai; dia! Si tu ne fuis 

onze…bis Rue Balzac; chez cet Heredia;' 

     is a little miracle。〃 

     〃You're right;〃 said Mr。 Scogan。          〃I can't。〃 

     〃You don't feel it to be magical?〃 

     〃No。〃 

     〃That's the test for the literary mind;〃 said Denis; 〃the feeling of magic; 

the sense that words have power。             The technical; verbal part of literature 

is   simply    a  development      of   magic。    Words      are  man's    first  and   most 

grandiose   invention。       With   language   he   created   a   whole   new   universe; 

what wonder if he loved words and attributed power to them!                    With fitted; 

harmonious words the magicians summoned rabbits out of empty hats and 

spirits from the elements。         Their descendants; the literary men; still go on 

with the process; morticing their verbal formulas together; and; before the 

power of the finished spell; trembling with delight and awe。                  Rabbits out 

of empty hats?        No; their spells are more subtly powerful; for they evoke 

emotions   out   of   empty   minds。   Formulated   by   their   art   the   most   insipid 

statements   become   enormously   significant。           For   example;   I   proffer   the 

constatation; 'Black ladders lack bladders。'             A self…evident truth; one  on 

which   it   would   not   have   been   worth   while   to   insist;   had   I   chosen   to 



  

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