Chapter 11 orange

orange Akutagawa Ryunosuke One night in winter, the sky was gloomy, I sat in the corner of the upbound second-class bus departing from Yokosuka, and waited blankly for the sound of the driving whistle.The lights in the car were already on, and it was rare that there were no other passengers in the car except me.Looking out of the window, today is different from usual. On the dark platform, there is no one seeing off people, only a puppy in a cage, howling from time to time.This scene was strangely consistent with my state of mind at the time.There is indescribable fatigue and weariness in my mind, as gloomy as this snowy sky.I kept my hands in the pockets of my overcoat without moving, unable to summon the energy to take out the evening paper.

Soon, the start whistle sounded.I felt a little stretched out, rested my head on the window frame behind me, and casually waited for the station in front of me to recede slowly.But before the car moved, I heard the rattling sound of low-toothed clogs from the ticket gate; in an instant, following the conductor's abuse, the door of the second-class carriage I was sitting in rattled open, and a thirteen The four-year-old girl walked in in a panic.At the same time, the train jolted violently and moved slowly.The pillars of the platform pass by one by one, the water truck seems to be forgotten there, the porter in the red hat is thanking someone in the car for tipping him-all these are scraping on the window Reluctantly fell backward amidst the incoming soot.I finally breathed a sigh of relief, lit a cigarette, and then listlessly raised my eyelids and glanced at the face of the girl sitting across from me.

①The original text is called Rihe Shita, clogs worn on sunny days. She was a real country girl.Her non-greasy hair was tied into a ginkgo bun, and there were lines of chapped marks on her glaringly red cheeks.A dirty light green woolen scarf hangs down to the lap where a large bundle is placed, and a red third-class ticket is tightly clutched in a hand full of chilblain holding the bundle.I don't like the vulgar face of the girl, and the slovenly dress offends me.What made me even more angry was that she was so stupid that she couldn't even tell the difference between the second-class car and the third-class car.Therefore, after lighting a cigarette, I intentionally forgot about the girl, so I casually spread the evening newspaper in my overcoat pocket on my knees.At this time, the light shining on the evening newspaper from the window was suddenly replaced by electric light, and the few columns of type printed with low quality came into view very clearly.Needless to say, the train has now entered the first of many tunnels on the Yokosuka line.

① Ginkgo bun was originally the name of girls' hair style in Edo period in Japan. Since the end of Edo period, it has also become popular among adult women. Under the light, I glanced at the evening newspaper, which published ordinary things in the world, such as peace talks, newlyweds, job admissions, obituaries, etc., all of which could not relieve my boredom—the story of entering the tunnel At that moment, I had an illusion, as if the train was running backwards, and at the same time, I browsed through the boring news almost mechanically.All the while, however, I had to be aware that the girl was sitting right in front of me, with an expression on her face that seemed to personify this vulgar reality.The train passing through the tunnel, and this country girl, and this evening paper full of mundane news—what are these but symbols?What is it, if not a symbol of this inconceivable, mediocre, boring life?Disappointed with everything, I put aside the evening paper I hadn't finished reading, leaned my head against the window frame, closed my eyes like a dead man, and slapped.Get up.

After a few minutes, I felt harassed and couldn't help but look around.At some point, the girl moved from the seat opposite to me, and she kept trying to open the window.But the heavy glass windows don't seem to be easy to open.Her chapped cheeks became even redder, and the sound of sniffing her nose, along with her slight panting, kept coming into my ears.This was certainly enough to arouse some sympathy from me.In the twilight, only the withered grass on the ridges on both sides can be clearly discerned. At this moment, it is approaching the window, and it can be seen that the train is about to drive to the tunnel entrance.I don't understand why the girl went out of her way to open the closed car window.No, I can only think that it was just a whim of the moment.Therefore, I still harbor resentful emotions, hoping that she will never be able to open it, and watched the scene of the girl desperately trying to open the glass window with her hands full of frostbite.Soon, the train rushed into the tunnel with a shrill sound; at the same time, the window that the girl wanted to open finally fell down with a choke.A puff of thick black air, which seemed to have melted the soot, suddenly turned into suffocating smoke, billowing into the carriage through the square window opening.I barely had time to cover my face with my handkerchief, and I was already coughing, and now I sprayed smoke all over my face, and coughed so hard that I couldn't even breathe.But the girl didn't mind me at all, she put her head out of the window, staring at the direction of the train intently, letting the wind blowing through the darkness blow her hair with ginkgo biloba on her temples.Her shadow loomed among the soot and lights.At this time, it was bright outside the window, and the smell of earth, dry grass and water came in coldly, and I managed to stop my cough. If it wasn't for this, I would have scolded the girl without thinking. Tell her to close the window as usual.

But by this time the train was safely out of the tunnel and was passing the switch on the outskirts of the weary town amidst the weedy hills.Near the turnout, there are row upon row of humble thatched roofs and tiled roofs.Probably the switchman was signaling, a sombre white flag waving lazily in the twilight alone.The train had just pulled out of the tunnel when I saw three red-cheeked boys standing side by side behind the fence of the lonely switch.They were all very short, as if weighed down by the overcast sky.The clothes he wore were as miserable as the scenery on the outskirts of the town.They looked up at the train passing by, raised their hands together, raised their small throats and screamed desperately, unable to understand what they were shouting.At this moment, the girl half-body leaned out of the window stretched out her chilblained hand, swung it vigorously from side to side, five or six golden oranges were reflected by the warm sunlight, and suddenly looked at the train delivery man from the window. The children fell on their heads.I couldn't help but hold my breath, and suddenly realized.The girl probably went to work as a maid, and threw a few oranges out of the window in her bosom to reward her younger brothers who came to the turnout to see her off.

The dim twilight shrouded the turnouts on the outskirts of town, the three children singing like birds, and the bright colors of the oranges thrown on their heads—all of this passed by the car window in an instant.But this scene is so deeply engraved in my heart that I can hardly breathe.I realized that I felt an inexplicable joy in my heart.I raised my head proudly and fixed my eyes on the girl as if I were looking at another person.At some point, the girl had returned to the seat opposite me, her chapped cheeks were still wrapped in a light green woolen scarf, and the third-class ticket was tightly clutched in her hand holding the big bundle.

It was only then that I could forget the indescribable fatigue and burnout, and the incredible, mediocre and boring life. (April 1919) translated by Wen Jieruo