圓臉男人 Moon-Face (第1/11頁)
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傑克·倫敦
JackLondon
傑克·倫敦（JackLondon，1876—1916），美國著名作家之一。出身貧困，童年以從事繁重勞動謀生，先後做過工人、水手、司爐、淘金者，甚至流浪漢。艱苦的生活使他深切體會到損貧利富的社會弊端，由此對社會問題深感興趣，自稱社會學者，從事過工人運動。他的短篇小說獨樹一幟，情節緊湊，人物形象栩栩如生，深受讀者喜愛。代表作有《狼的兒子》《荒野的呼喚》《鐵蹄》等。
JohnClaverhousewasamoon-facedman.Youknowthekind,cheek-boneswideaart,chinandforeheadmeltingintothecheekstocomletetheerfectround,andthenose,broadandudgy,equidistantfromthecircumference,fattenedagainsttheverycentreofthefacelikeadough-balluontheceiling.PerhasthatiswhyIhatedhim,fortrulyhehadbecomeanoffensetomyeyes,andIbelievedtheearthtobecumberedwithhisresence.
Bethatasitmay,IhatedJohnClaverhouse.Notthathehaddonemewhatsocietywouldconsiderawrongoranillturn.Farfromit.Theevilwasofadeeer,subtlersort；soelusive,sointangible,astodefyclear,defniteanalysisinwords.Weallexeriencesuchthingsatsomeeriodinourlives.Forthefrsttimeweseeacertainindividual,onewhotheveryinstantbeforewedidnotdreamexisted；andyet,atthefrstmomentofmeeting,wesay：“Idonotlikethatman.”Whydowenotlikehim?Ah,wedonotknowwhy；weknowonlythatwedonot.Wehavetakenadislike,thatisall.AndsoIwithJohnClaverhouse.
Whatrighthadsuchamantobehay?Yethewasanotimist.Hewasalwaysgleefulandlaughing.Allthingswerealwaysallright,cursehim！Ah！Howitgratedonmysoulthatheshouldbesohay！Othermencouldlaugh,anditdidnotbotherme.Ievenusedtolaughmyself-beforeImetJohnClaverhouse.
Buthislaugh！Itirritatedme,maddenedme,asnothingelseunderthesuncouldirritateormaddenme.Ithauntedme,griedholdofme,andwouldnotletmego.Itwasahuge,gargantuanlaugh.Wakingorsleeingitwasalwayswithme,whirringandjarringacrossmyheart-stringslikeanenormousras.Atbreakofdayitcamewhooingacrossthefeldstosoilmyleasantmorningrevery.Undertheachingnoondayglare,whenthegreenthingsdrooedandthebirdswithdrewtothedethsoftheforest,andallnaturedrowsed,hisgreat“Ha!ha！”and“Ho!ho！”roseutotheskyandchallengedthesun.Andatblackmidnight,fromthelonelycross-roadswhereheturnedfromtownintohisownlace,camehislagueycachinnationstorousemefrommysleeandmakemewritheandclenchmynailsintomyalms.
Iwentforthrivilyinthenight-time,andturnedhiscattleintohisfelds,andinthemorningheardhiswhooinglaughashedrovethembackagain.“Itisnothing，”hesaid，“theoor,dumbbeastiesarenottobeblamedforstrayingintofatterastures.”
Hehadadoghecalled“Mars，”abig,slendidbrute,artdeer-houndandartblood-hound,andresemblingboth.Marswasagreatdelighttohim,andtheywerealwaystogether.ButIbidedmytime,andoneday,whenoortunitywasrie,luredtheanimalawayandsettledforhimwithstrychnineandbeefsteak.ItmadeositivelynoimressiononJohnClaverhouse.Hislaughwasasheartyandfrequentasever,andhisfaceasmuchlikethefullmoonasitalwayshadbeen.
ThenIsetfiretohishaystacksandhisbarn.Butthenextmorning,beingSunday,hewentforthblitheandcheerful.“Whereareyougoing?”Iaskedhim,ashewentbythecross-roads.“Trout，”hesaid,andhisfacebeamedlikeafullmoon.“Ijustdoteontrout.”
