Chapter 8 Chapter 5 (1)

Casciani has a diabolical talent for playing with secrets, and she always knows where to be at just the right moment.She was energetic, quiet, intelligent, and gentle.However, at the critical moment, despite the pain in her heart, she showed a steely character.She has never been angry about her own affairs. Her sole aim was to clear the steps at any cost--by blood, if nothing else--and to allow Ariza to climb to a position beyond his control.Out of an uncontrollable desire for power, she did it by any means, but her actual purpose was purely for gratitude.Her determination was so great that Florentino Ariza himself was so bewildered by her methods that in one unfortunate moment he tried to get in her way because he thought she was in his way.Casciani brought him back to his senses.

"Make no mistake," she said to him, "I will leave here if you ask me to, but please think about it." Ariza really hadn't thought about it yet.So he thought the question back and forth as best he could, and finally surrendered to her.In fact, in the dirty war fraught with dangers within the company, in the suspenseful catastrophe, in the elusive fantasies of Fermina, in the face of the man made in the fierce strife. A pungent black girl all over shit and love, Florentino Ariza's indifferent heart has never been at peace for a moment.He has been sad many times because she is actually not the bitch he imagined that afternoon when he met her, otherwise he would forget his principles completely, even if it is a gold ingot like burning coal, he would have to follow her Get some sleep.

Casciani was still the same as she was on the stagecoach that afternoon, still wearing the whore-like clothes, the lunatic's turban, the bone-carved earrings and bracelets, and the necklace indifferently. Fake gemstone rings were worn on both fingers.In short, it's still the Cassiani who lives on the street.The little traces of time left on her appearance added a bit of color to her.She was ripe, and her femininity was all the more fascinating, and her warm African body was fuller with maturity.Ariza atones for the mistake she made when they first met by not making any hints to her for ten years.As for her, she helped him in every way, but she didn't help him in this aspect.

Ariza was working late one night—as he had often done since his mother died—and was leaving the house when he saw the lights still on in Casciani’s office.He pushed in without knocking.And there she was, sitting alone at her writing desk, lost in thought, her expression serious, her new spectacles giving her an air of pedantry. Florentino Ariza felt a thrill of happiness: just the two of them in the building, the pier was deserted, the city was asleep, the night was dark over the black sea, a ship moaned sadly, it would go on again. It takes an hour to reach the port.Florentino Ariza was holding the umbrella with both hands, just as he had blocked her way in the alley called Maison, but this time so that she would not see that his knees were trembling slightly.

"Tell me, dear Casciani," he said, "when will we change this?" Not surprised, she took off her glasses very calmly, and his sunny laughter stunned him. She had never called him "you" yet. "Oh, Florentino Ariza," she said to him, "I have been sitting here for ten years waiting for you to ask me that question!" It was too late: there had been such an opportunity in the mule-and-horse coach, and she had been sitting in that chair afterwards, but it was gone forever.Indeed, after all the furtive meanness she had done for him, and all the shamelessness she had endured for him, she had surpassed him in life, though he was twenty years her senior: she Aged for him.She loved him deeply, and she would rather continue to love him than cheat him, even though she had to let him know the truth out of the blue.

"No," she told him, "I'd feel like I was sleeping with my imaginary son." The fact that the last denial was not his own made Florentino Ariza feel a thorn in his back.He had always thought that when a woman said "no" she was waiting for someone else to insist before making a final decision, but dealing with her was a different story and he couldn't risk a second mistake .He walked away with ease, even with a little joy that was rare.From that night on, any shadow that might have arisen between them melted away smoothly, and Florentino Ariza finally understood that he could be a woman's friend without sleeping with her.

Ariza only reveals his secret to Fermina to Casciani.By the irresistible laws of nature, the few who knew the secret had begun to put the event out of their memory.Three of them are definitely in the grave: one is his mother, who blotted the secret from her memory long before she died; The daughter's person did not die until a long life; the third was the unforgettable Escolastica, who once lost the first love letter he received in his life in a prayer book and handed it to him, so Years have passed, and it is impossible for her to still be alive.As for Lorenzo Daza, it was not known at the time whether he was dead or alive. He might have revealed it to Sister de la Ruz in order to save his daughter from excommunication, but it was unlikely that the nun would spread the secret.And Hildebranda and Fermina's other savage cousins.

Ariza did not know that Dr. Urbino should also be included in this list of insiders.Hildebranda had once revealed this secret to the doctor during one of his very frequent visits in the first few years.However, she mentioned it quite by accident and at a very inappropriate time, and Dr. Urbino did not go in one ear and out the other, as she had imagined.Hildebranda refers to Ariza as an anonymous poet who, she thinks, might excel at riddles.Dr. Urbino didn't remember who Ariza was for a while, so she told him—not that she had to, but she said it without malice—that Ariza was the only woman before Fermina's marriage. lover.She spoke of it to the doctor with the conviction that it was perfectly justifiable and fleeting, even regrettable.Without even looking at her, Dr. Urbino retorted, "I didn't know the fellow was a poet," and then erased him from his memory, along with everything else, because his profession had passed away. It made him develop the habit of forgetting things as soon as he sees them from the perspective of ethics and morality.

Ariza realized that, except for his mother, those who held the secret belonged to Fermina's side, while on his side he was the only one.He carried this heavy burden alone, and many times he needed someone to help him, but no one deserved this kind of trust at the time.Casciani was the only one who could be trusted, it was only a matter of how and when.On the scorching afternoon when he was pondering this question, Dr. Urbino happened to climb the steep stairs of the Caribbean Inland Navigation Company.In order to overcome the sweltering heat at three o'clock in the afternoon, he climbed a level to rest for a while, and when he reached Ariza's office, he was out of breath and his pants were soaked with sweat.

"I see a hurricane is coming," he said out of breath. Florentino Ariza had seen him there many times, each time to see his uncle Leon XII, but never before. Never before had it been so evident that this unexpected visitor had some kind of connection to his life. That was also the time when Dr. Urbino came through his professional difficulties and went from door to door with his hat almost like a beggar, seeking funding for his artistic activities.One of his most steadfast and generous patrons throughout was Leon XII, who happened to be sitting in a spring-backed chair at his desk and had just begun to take his requisite ten-minute nap every day.Ariza asked Dr. Urbino to come and sit for a while in his office, which was next to that of his uncle Leon XII and, in a sense, was also the antechamber of his uncle's office.

They had met face to face on various occasions but had never been face to face, and Florentino Ariza once again felt disgustingly ashamed.Ten long minutes.During these ten minutes, he stood up three times, hoping that his uncle would wake up early, and drank a whole thermos bottle of pure coffee.Dr. Urbino did not accept a glass.He said: "Coffee is poison." After speaking, he continued to discuss other issues with another person, not worried that his words would be heard by others. Ariza was on pins and needles.The doctor is naturally handsome, his speech is fluent and precise, and he exudes a faint smell of camphor. He is heroic, and his conversation is elegant and elegant, and even the most frivolous words become solemn when they come out of his mouth.Suddenly, the doctor suddenly changed the topic: "Do you like music?" Ariza was caught off guard.In fact, he went to every concert or opera in town, but he didn't think he could talk about music like a connoisseur.He understands popular music, especially sentimental waltzes, which are similar to what he did when he was young and the poems he secretly wrote. Again, not even the power of God could erase the melody that had been in his head all night, all night. But it was not a serious answer to a very serious question posed by an expert. "I like Gardel," he said. Dr. Urbino knew it all. "That's right," he said, "it's fashionable now." He emphasized to Florentino Ariza that it was frustrating that the programs available today were so different from the wonderful ones of the last century. The thing is this: he has been selling long-term tickets for a year to invite the Chopin Trio to perform at the Comedy Theatre, but no one in the political world knows who those three celebrities are.And that month, the Ramon Calarte Bandit, the Manolo Presa operetta-rap troupe, and the Santaneras Family Troupe, all of which are difficult to get into, sold out. The pantomime of Tai Ya Zhi Tang, the burlesque troupe, the actors change their clothes on the stage when the lights dim.Not even the Denise de Altay troupe, which claims to be comparable to the dancer of the past, Les Begret, and even the disgusting troupe of Ursus, who plays a bewitched Basque maniac with his bare hands. Fighting a Lydian bull--all sold out.However, there is nothing to complain about, aren't the Europeans now engaged in yet another barbaric war?After nine civil wars in half a century, we are beginning to live in peace.Nine civil wars, after all, only one, always that one.What attracted Florentino Ariza's attention the most in this fascinating speech was the possibility of resuming the lantern riddles, one of the most sensational and far-reaching activities initiated by Dr. Urbino, and Florentino Florentino Ariza had to Biting his tongue so as not to be tempted to tell the doctor that he himself was a participant in that annual competition that had begun to attract the most famous poets from home to other countries in the Caribbean. While the conversation was in full swing, the heat wave in the air suddenly cooled down, and a big storm that went around blew the doors and windows apart, and the office creaked from its foundations, like a flat boat floating on the water.Dr. Urbino didn't seem to be aware of this situation. After he mentioned a few words about the strong typhoon that raged wildly in June, he suddenly talked about his wife.He regarded her not only as his most ardent collaborator, but as the soul of his motion.He said: "Without her I would do nothing." Florentino Ariza listened to all this with indifference, nodding slightly in agreement, fearing that her voice would fail, and daring not to say anything.After two or three sentences, however, it became clear to him that Dr. Urbino, in spite of all his exhausting activities, still had inexhaustible time to adore his wife almost as ardently as He was the same, and the fact bewildered him.But he didn't react, because there was a foolishness in his heart.His heart told him that he and his rival were victims of the same fate, of falling in love with the same woman, two animals in the same harness.For the first time in the past twenty-seven years, Florentino Ariza felt the pain of being stabbed by a knife in his heart.In order to make himself happy, that admirable man must die. The hurricane was far away, and in just fifteen minutes it had leveled several districts near the lake and knocked down half the city.Dr. Urbino was again satisfied with the generosity of his uncle Leon XII, and left before the wind and rain had completely subsided.In his absence, he also took away the personal umbrella that Florentino Ariza had lent him.Ariza not only didn't mind, but was secretly pleased, wondering how Fermina would feel if he knew who the umbrella belonged to.When Casciani passed his office, he was still in the heat of his meeting with the doctor, and he felt that this was the only chance to confide in her, like stabbing a swallow's nest that was disturbing him, or now. Make up your mind, or never donate.He first asked her about her impression of Dr. Urbino.She replied without hesitation: "This man has done a lot, maybe a bit too much, but I don't think anyone knows what is going on in his heart." After a pause, she pondered again, and with her big sharp teeth--the teeth of a tall black woman-gnawed off the eraser end of the pencil piece by piece, and shrugged her shoulders at last, intending to combine the piece with the Irrelevant things are written off. "Perhaps the reason he does so much," she said, "is to keep himself from thinking." Ariza tried to interrupt her. "It's a pity he had to die," he said. "All men are mortal," she said. "True," he interjected, "but this man deserves to die above all." She didn't understand at all, shrugged her shoulders again, left without answering.At this moment Florentino Ariza understood that on some uncertain night in the future, when he had the good fortune to lie next to Fermina, he would be able to tell her that he even had the honor of the only person who had the right to know. Nobody ever revealed the secret of his love.No, never, not even to Casciani, not because he didn't want to open the box that kept this secret to her, but because he didn't realize until that moment that the key to the box had been lost. However, it was not this that shocked him most that afternoon.Looking back on my youth, the past is vivid in my mind. Every April 15th, the loud lantern riddle contest is held in the Hall of Antilles.He is always one of the protagonists, but also, as on almost all occasions, a faceless protagonist.Twenty-four years ago, since the opening competition, he has participated several times, and he has never won a prize, even if he won the bottom prize.However, he didn't care, he participated not out of ambition to win the prize, but because the riddle competition had an additional attraction for him: the first competition was when Fermina opened the sealed envelopes and she read the competition The list of winners, since then, he has decided to participate in the competition every year in the future. On the night of the first lantern riddle competition, Florentino Ariza hid behind a half-dark back chair, and the anxiety made the bright camellia flower in the buttonhole of the lapel of his suit tremble slightly.He saw Fermina standing on the stage of the old National Theatre, opening the three sealed envelopes.He wondered what was going to happen when she found out that he was the winner of the "Golden Orchid" award.He was so confident that she would recognize his handwriting.At that moment, those flowery evenings spent under the almond trees in the small park, the fragrance of the vibrato in the letter, the waltz that only the two of them could understand for the fairy in the crown on the breezy morning, They will all come to her mind.Unfortunately, that didn't happen.To make matters worse, the "Golden Orchid" award, the highest award in the National Poetry Awards, was taken away by a Chinese immigrant. The thunderous cheers that prompted that fateful decision cast doubt on the seriousness of the contest.But the judging was fair, and the jury agreed that it was a sonnet of excellence. No one believed that the author of the winning sonnet could be a Chinese.During the construction of the Transocean Canal at the end of the last century, he came here to enjoy his life together with many other Chinese in order to escape the disaster of yellow fever that engulfed Panama.They speak Chinese, they live and reproduce here, they are exactly the same internally, and no one can tell the difference between them.At first there were less than ten people in total, some of them with their wives and children and dogs ready to eat, but within a few years, these Chinese people who had crossed the customs quietly filled the four alleys near the port.The young among them hastened to become aged parents full of children and grandchildren, and no one understood how they had time to grow old.People intuitively divide them into two categories: good Chinese and bad Chinese.The bad Chinese hide in the shadowy corners of the port, eat and drink like kings, or sit on a table and die quietly over a plate of sunflower seed stewed rats, people suspect them of women and everything .The good Chinese are the laundries who have inherited the sacred science of returning old shirts to customers cleaner than new, with collars and cuffs ironed like freshly flattened wafers. It was one of these good Chinese who beat seventy-two well-trained opponents in a lantern riddle contest. When Fermina pronounced the name in a daze, no one understood.Not only because it was an unheard of name, but after all, no one is sure what the Chinese people are called.Fortunately, there is no need to glorify God for this. The award-winning Chinese has already appeared from behind the box, with a knowing smile on his face when a Chinese goes home early.He was so sure of winning that he went out wearing the yellow silk shirt he only wore during the Chinese New Year. Amidst the deafening boos of those who did not believe that he was the author, he took the 18K golden orchid and kissed it happily. He stood for a moment in the center, with the composure of the apostle of their Madonna—apparently less pretentious than our Madonna.When the booing stopped for the first time, he read the winning verse.No one understood.But when another booing subsided, Fermina calmly re-read it in a beautiful aphonic voice, and the first line of the poem was amazing.It was the most orthodox high-dance sonnet, perfect, with a refreshing inspiration running through the whole text, as if a master helped him catch the knife.The only plausible explanation is that a certain great poet deliberately wanted to make a joke of this lantern riddle contest, while the Chinese was determined not to reveal the secret until his death.I have gone to help him make this joke.The Business Daily - our traditional newspaper, trying to salvage the reputation of its citizens, published a piece that was more raw than quotable about the long history of the Chinese, their cultural influence in the Caribbean and their eligibility for lantern riddles Essays.The author of the essay has no doubt that the author of the sonnet is the one who claims to be the author, and he directly quotes from the title: "Every Chinese is a Poet".The architects of the conspiracy - if there ever was a conspiracy - rot in the grave with the secret.The Chinese who won the award lived to the age of the Oriental and died without giving an explanation until his death.He was buried in the coffin with the golden orchid, but also with the pain of not having the only thing he longed for in his life, the only thing he longed for was the poet's name.For this reason, the press republished the long-forgotten lantern riddle, illustrated with a fat girl holding a gold cup, and republished the sonnet. The patron saint of poetry took this opportunity to restore Here's what it was: the new generation found the sonnet tasteless, proving that it was indeed written by the late Chinese. In Florentino Ariza's memory, the farce was always associated with a strange woman with heavy make-up who sat next to him that day.He had noticed her at the beginning of the contest, and then, in his fearful waiting, he had forgotten her.Her mother-of-pearl white skin, the fragrance of a rich woman, and her huge soprano-like breasts covered by a fake magnolia flower caught his attention.She was wearing a black velvet gown that hugged her body so tightly that it was as dark as she was.Like hot eyeballs.Her hair was darker, tied at the nape of her neck with a gypsy comb.There are earrings hanging from the ears, a necklace with the same style as the earrings around the neck, and exactly the same rings on each finger. All the jewelry is made of shiny bubble nails, and there is a mole on the right cheek. Smudged with lipstick.During the final burst of applause, she looked at Florentino Ariza with genuine melancholy. "Trust me, I'm really upset," she told him. Florentino Ariza was shocked, not by the sympathy he deserved, but by the surprise that someone had discovered his secret.She explained to him: "I found out during the lottery that the flower on your neckline was trembling non-stop." She gestured to him with a plush camellia in her hand, and opened her heart to him: "That's why I picked mine," she said. Originally, Ariza was about to cry because of frustration, but out of the intuition of a nightlife hunter, she suddenly lifted her spirits. "Let's find a place to cry together," he said to her. He accompanied her home.It was almost midnight when we reached the gate of the theater.The streets were deserted, and he persuaded her to invite him over for a glass of brandy and to look at the collection of newspaper clippings and photographs she had mentioned of social events accumulated over a decade.This gimmick was not new at the time, but this time he was passive, because she was talking about her album as they left the National Theatre.They entered her home.The first thing Florentino Ariza observed in the living room was that the door to the bedroom was open, and the bed was large and richly upholstered, with a brocade coverlet over the bronze-coloured bed.He panicked.She probably sensed his expression, and quickly crossed the living room before him, and closed the bedroom door.He was then invited to sit down on a chintz couch where a cat was sleeping.She put the stack of photo albums on the table in the middle of the living room.Ariza flipped through the photo album slowly, looking at the things in front of her, while mainly thinking about the next few steps.He suddenly raised his gaze and saw that her eyes were already tearing up.He advised her to cry as much as she liked without being ashamed, because crying relieved the pain the most, but advised her to let go of her bra before crying.He hurried to help her, for the bra was sewn with a long cross strap and fastened tightly around the back. Before he could help her untie the straps, the bra loosened itself due to the internal pressure, and the mountain-like nipples let out a breath freely. Even on the most convenient occasions, Florentino Ariza, who never got rid of her initial fears, dared to rub her neck lightly with her fingers, and she uttered a spoiled little girl's groan, turned around, but did not stop. cry.He kissed her lightly on the neck, but she turned away before he kissed the next day.Her body was huge, she was hungry and thirsty, and she was hot, and the two hugged and rolled on the ground.The cat on the sofa was startled awake and jumped on top of them.Like flustered infants, they are more preoccupied with avoiding the raging cat than with the possible misfortune of what they are doing.From the next night onwards, they continued to hang out together for several years. When he fell in love with her, she was already forty years old, and he was not yet thirty.Her name was Sarah Norieja, and when she was young she had won a competition for a book of love poems about the poor, which, despite a quarter of an hour's triumph, had never been published.She earns a living teaching etiquette and civics at the public school, and lives in a rented house in the muddy Old Quarter of Getzmani, "Jingren Lane."She had had several flirtatious lovers, but none of them had the illusion of marrying her, because in her environment and in her time, it was rare for a man to think of being engaged to a woman he had slept with.Since her first legitimate fiancé--whom she had once loved with all the infatuation of an eighteen-year-old girl--breached his promise a week before the scheduled wedding, leaving her in the deserted fiancée ——or according to the terminology at the time, it was called "used unmarried girl"—after the embarrassing situation, she herself had long given up this fantasy.Although this first experience was cruel and short, what left her was not distress, but a vague belief: whether to marry or not to marry, whether there is no God or no kingly law, if there is no A man in bed is not worth living. While she was as free-spirited as he was, and perhaps not opposed to making their relationship public, Ariza had designed it to be a sneaky relationship from the start.He slipped in through the side door, almost always in the dead of night, and slipped out on tiptoe before dawn.He and she both understood that, in a house with many inhabitants, no matter how guarded they were, the neighbors who appeared to be ignorant were actually quite informed.Yet Florentino Ariza maintained that appearance, as he did with all the women all his life.He never made a mistake, whether it was with her or with any other woman, he never left any excuses.Only once, indeed, did he leave a trace that might incur trouble, or a written confession that nearly cost him his life.He has always pretended to be Fermina's lifelong partner, a not-so-faithful but persistent husband, who has been fighting to get rid of the shackles of husband and wife, but has not betrayed her. This kind of sneaking can't be without mistakes and smooth sailing.Transito himself was convinced until his death that this son born in love and brought up for love, thought that since he suffered the first setback in his youth, he would not be tempted by any form of love.However, many people who are close to him and have bad intentions know his sneaky character and his hobby of fancy clothes and all kinds of weird detergents, so they all suspect that he is not interested in love. Don't be tempted, but don't be tempted by women.Ariza knew they thought of him that way, but never made any excuses.Sarah Norieja didn't care about that either.Like countless other women Ariza had loved, even those who did not love him but satisfied him and were content with him, she knew that he was nothing more than a dewy man. Afterwards he went to her house whenever he liked, especially on Sunday mornings, when it was quieter.She stopped what she was doing, whether it was important or not, and devoted herself to satisfying him in the big historic bed.The bed was always made and waiting for him.In that bed, she was never allowed to pay attention to formality.Florentino Ariza couldn't figure out why an unmarried woman who had never been there knew everything about men.He couldn't figure out how she could handle her soft, dolphin-like body with such coquettish mastery, as if she were moving in water.She defended: In the final analysis, love is an instinct, either it will happen for the first time, or it will never happen in a lifetime.Ali Sutton's interest was greatly diminished, and she thought that she might be more battle-tested than she appeared to be.But he had to say that he believed her words, because he told her what he said to all his lovers: You are my only sweetheart.One of their many least favorite things is having to keep that raging cat in bed.Sara Norieja often trims cats' nails so they don't get scratched by cat's claws. Yet, almost as much as she loved getting exhausted in bed, she also liked to devote her exhaustion to the worship of poetry.Not only does she remember the love poems of the era surprisingly vividly—newly published love poems, hand-bound booklets, sold for two cents apiece—but she has her favorite poems pinned to the wall, ready to play read aloud.She compiled etiquette and civics textbooks into eleven-syllable couplets, just like her orthography textbooks, but unfortunately she didn't get official approval.She became obsessed with reciting, and sometimes continued to shout and recite at the moment when she fell into a phoenix.Florentino Ariza had to suck on her mouth with all her strength, like trying to stop a child from crying. At the time of their union, Florentino Ariza asked themselves: which state could be called love, in the huge bed or in the quiet of a Sunday afternoon?Sara Norieja reassured him with an obvious reason: anything done without clothes was love.She said: "The love of the heart is above the waist, and the love of the body is below the waist." Sarah Norieja felt that this definition applied to the poem called Different Loves.They wrote that poem with four hands, and she took this poem to participate in the fifth lantern riddle competition, thinking that other people would not be able to come up with such ingenious poems to participate in lantern riddles.But again she was nowhere on the list. When Florentino Ariza sent her home, she was full of resentment.With an unknown fury in her heart, she concluded that it was Fermina's trick that prevented her from winning the prize for her poem.Florentino Ariza ignored her.He had been in a depressed mood since the award was distributed, he hadn't seen Fermina for a long time, and that night, he felt that she had undergone a profound change: for the first time, he could tell at a glance that she was a mother.This wasn't news to him, he knew her son was already in school.However, from the perspective of age, the past is not too obvious, and that night, her waist was thicker, she was a little out of breath when walking, and her voice seemed lacking in confidence when she read the list of awards. He wanted to clear his memory, and went through the lantern riddles again while Sarah Noriega went into the kitchen to tidy up.He looked at the pictures in the magazines, the yellowed postcards sold as souvenirs in the doorway, as if looking back at a hypothetical life of his own.Up to that time, he had always taken it for granted that the world was changing, customs and fashions were changing, everything was changing, but she had not changed.But that night he realized for the first time that life had left its mark on Fermina, and that life had left its mark on him when he himself was sitting on the sidelines.He never talked about Fermina with anyone because he knew that when he mentioned her name it was impossible not to turn the color of his lips.But this evening, as he had done so many times before, while browsing through the albums, Sarah Norieja came to a conclusion that would turn the blood cold. "She's a whore," she said. She said this when she walked by Ariza and saw a picture of Fermina disguised as a panther at a masked ball.Without mentioning anyone's name, Ariza would know whom she was referring to.Fearing that she would reveal something that had disturbed his life, Ariza rushed to a measured defense.He reminded her that he only met Fermina after turning a few corners, that they never went beyond a nod and that he knew nothing about her private life, but he assured her that she was a respected The woman who is born is self-made and climbed to the Dragon Gate through her own efforts. "Marriage and handouts by stake in a man she doesn't love." Sarah Norieja cut him off. "It's the worst kind of bitch." Florentino Ariza's mother had said the same thing to him, less rudely but with the same conviction, in order to comfort him for his broken love.阿里萨一阵慌乱，直透骨髓，一时找不到适当的语言来反驳萨拉?诺丽埃佳的尖酸刻薄的话，直想绕开话题。但萨拉?诺丽埃佳怒气未消，不让他打岔。因为某种说不清道不白的直觉，她认定费尔米纳是阻挠她得奖的阴谋的罪魁祸首。这一点当然没有理由成立，因为她们互不相识，从来没见过面，而且就算费尔米纳了解竞赛的幕后情况，也无权作出授奖的决定。萨拉?诺丽埃佳不容置辩地说：“我们女人的感觉是很灵的。”说完就停止了争论。 从这时起，阿里萨就对她另眼相看了。对她来说，岁月也在流逝。她的丰腴的身体不知不觉地枯萎了，她的情欲在抽泣中姗姗来迟，她的眼皮也开始出现陈年痛苦的阴影。她已经是人老珠黄了。另外，因失败面怒火中烧，她没有留意喝下多少杯白兰地。她已经不是五年前那天晚上的模样了。两人正在吃椰油炒饭，她试图细算那首两人合作但后来没有中选的诗到底谁写了几行，以便一旦知道获奖，两人该各分几片金兰花的花瓣。做这种无聊的游戏对他们来说已不是第一次了，但阿里萨却利用这个机会去舔刚裂开的伤口，他们在这场鸡毛蒜皮的争论中纠缠不休，各自爱情的五年来的积怨终于解决了。 差十分十二点的时候，萨拉?诺丽埃佳爬到椅子上去给挂钟上弦，把闹铃对好了。也许她是想无声地告诉他，他该走了。阿里萨觉得，他必须赶紧把这种没有爱情的关系一刀两断，他在伺机采取主动，这是他一贯的做法。他祈求上帝：让萨拉?诺丽埃佳请他躺到床上去，对他说别走吧，我们中间的一切误会都已经烟消云散了，等上完弦以后，她就会请他去坐在她身边。可是，她却离得远远的，在会客用的椅子上坐下了。阿里萨把被白兰地浸湿了的食指伸出去，让她吮，往常他总爱这么做。这次她躲开了。 “现在不。”她说，“我在等一个人。” 自从被费尔米纳拒绝以后，阿里萨就学乖了，使总是使自己处在作最后决定的主动地位。如果是在不那么痛苦的情况下，他肯定会去纠缠萨拉?诺丽埃佳，确信会和她到床上去搂抱打滚，度过那个夜晚，因为他相信，一个女人和男人睡过一次党，她就会继续在这个男人愿意的时候和他睡，只要这个男人懂得返她就行。基于这个信念，他忍受了一切，就是在最肮脏的爱情交易中，他也一切都在所不惜。只要是能不给生下来就是女人的女人以下最后决心的机会，但那天晚上他觉得自尊心受到了忍无可忍的伤害，便把白兰地一饮而尽，尽可能表现出怒气冲冲的样子，不辞而别了。他们再没有见过面。 萨拉?诺丽埃佳虽然不是阿里萨那五年中唯一的女人，但却是和他保持最长久最稳定关系的女人之一。他发现，跟萨拉?诺丽埃佳在一起的时候，虽然在床上的时候过得痛快，但永远无法用她来替代费尔米纳，便又开始去干独来独往地在夜间猎取女人的勾当。他把时间和最大限度的精力安排在每天晚上。萨拉?诺丽埃佳一度创造了使他减轻对费尔米纳的思念的奇迹。至少，不看见费尔米纳他也可以活着。 这跟过去是不同的，过去他随时会停下手里干着的事情，到他预感她有可能出现的那些靠不住的地方，到最意想不到的那些街头巷尾，甚至到现实中并不存在，她也根本不可能涉足的地方去找她，为了哪怕看她一眼，他漫无目的地逛来逛去，心里急得跟猫抓似的。同萨拉?诺丽埃佳决裂之后，对费尔米纳的思念又苏醒过来了，使他坐卧不宁。他又一次觉得，仿佛自己又坐在小公园里，看着永远看不完的书。 但这一次，这种感觉因盼望乌尔比诺医生立即一命归阴而更加强烈了。 很久以前，他就知道，命中注定他会把幸福带给一个寡妇，而寡妇也会把幸福带给他，他对此深信不疑。他做好了准备。在独来独往地猎取女人的生涯中，阿里萨对寡妇们了若指掌，他知道到处都是幸福的寡妇。他见过她们表示愿意装进丈夫那口棺材里活活埋掉，免得在没有丈夫的情况下去对付今后的恶运，但随着她们对新的处境的逐渐适应，她们又返老还童了。起初，她们象幻影般地住在空荡荡的住宅里，向女佣们倾诉衷曲，俄沂地躺在枕头上不想起床，在无所事事地囚禁了多年之后依然无所事事。为了消磨时间，她们在已故的丈夫的衣服上钉上过去从来没言时间去钉的扣子，为领口和袖日上蜡，把它们熨得平平整整。她们继续在浴室里为丈夫摆上肥皂，铺上带有丈夫姓氏缩写的床罩，在饭桌上丈夫坐的地方摆上刀叉盘子，好象他们会死而复生，没有通知就突然返回家来，就跟他们活着的时候经常这么做似的。然而，在不仅忘却了丈夫的姓氏，而且也忘却了自己的身分之后，她们在独自去做弥撒时又慢慢觉得自己成了自我意志的主宰了，而这一切都是以一个信念——一个在处女时代就存在的幻想——作为交换条件的。只有她们才知道，她们发疯地爱着的那个人——也许他也爱着她们——的分量，但她们得继续抚养他，给他喂奶，给他换湿了的尿布，用母性的语言哄他们，鼓励他们早晨出门的时候别胆怯，直到最后一息。然而，当她们看见他在自己的怂恿下真的出去闯荡世界的时候，她们又提心吊胆起来，害怕他永远也回不来了。this is life.爱情，如果真有爱情的话，那是另一回事，另一个生命。 在孤独的寂寞中，相反，寡妇们发现，老老实实地生活全凭身体的指挥，饿了才吃，不用说假话而爱，不必因逃避被人指摘不遵妇道而装睡，有权占有整张床席，没有人同她争一半床单，一半空气。一半属于她的夜晚，甚至睡梦也是自由自在的，该醒的时候就醒了。在外出偷情的黎明，阿里萨碰见寡妇们做完五点钟的弥撒出来。 一身黑衣，肩上披着寡妇的黑纱。晨曦中，他看见她们穿街过巷，迈着碎步从一条人行道走上另一条人行道——那是小鸟般的步伐，因为单是贴近男人身边走过，就会玷污她们的名誉。然而他坚信，没有慰藉的寡妇，更甚于任何其他女人，是很容易把幸福的种子撒到她们心中去的。 他一生中接触过许许多多寡妇，从纳萨雷特的遗孀开始，使他懂得，结过婚的女人，在丈夫亡故之后是何等幸福。到当时为止对他来说还纯粹是个幻想的东西，亏了这些寡妇，把它变成可以用手捕捉的可能性了。没有理由认为，费尔米纳和其他寡妇有什么不同，生活教育了她，她会接受他的，不管他是什么样子，她心中不会有对死去的丈夫犯罪的阴影，她将毅然决然地和他去发现两度幸福的另一种幸福，一种是能把生活中的每时每刻变成奇迹的普通的爱情，另一种是因死神的豁免，出污泥而不染地洁身自好地保留下来的爱情。 要是他怀疑过费尔米纳在他的如意算盘中离得是多么遥远，也许他不会那么热情贲涨。费尔米纳还只刚刚看见一个一切都已安排妥当，恰恰没有突变的世界在她面前展现。在那个时代，做个有钱人有许多好处，当然也有许多坏处。但普天下有一半人梦寐以求的是尽可能永远做个有钱人。因为不成熟，费尔米纳拒绝了阿里萨，她马上就追悔莫及，可她从来没有怀疑过自己的抉择是正确的。当时，她闹不清是理智中的哪些隐藏的原因使她心明眼亮了，但许多年之后，也就是在行将进入暮年之前，她突然在一次偶然提及的关于阿里萨的谈话中发现了。参加谈话的人都知道，阿里萨是正处于鼎盛时期的加勒比内河航运公司的继承人，所有的人都振振有词地说自己见过他许多次，甚至跟他打过交道，但没有一个人能想起他是副什么模样。 这时，费尔米纳发现了妨碍她爱他的没有意识到的原因。她说：“他好象不是一个人，而是一个影子。”是的，他是某个人的影子，而这个人从来就没有人了解过。 不过，当她在抵御乌尔比诺医生——医生是个和他恰恰相反的人——的追求的时候，她却被罪过的阴影弄得心神不定：这是她无法忍受的唯一的一种感觉。当她觉得这种感觉向她袭来的时候，她被一种慌乱抓住了，只有碰见能减轻她良心的压力的人才能控制住这种慌乱。从很小的时候开始，她在厨房里打碎了一只盘子，或者看到有人跌跤，或者自己在门缝里挤了一根手指头，她总是惊慌失措地跑到离她最近的大人跟前，归咎于他：“都是你。”虽然她对谁是肇事者并不关心，也并不确信自己是无辜的，反正能把罪过推开就够了。 这个阴影非常明显，势将危及家庭的和谐，乌尔比诺医生及时地发现了。他发现后，就赶忙对妻子说：“别难过，亲爱的，那是我的错。”他最担心的，莫过于妻子作出突然的、不可更改的决定，而且他深信，发生这种事情的根源都是因为一种罪过的感觉。然而，理清阿里萨这团乱麻，不是一句宽心话就能解决的。长达好几个月之久，早晨，费尔米钢打开阳台的窗户，就得使劲赶走脑子里那个坐在幽静的小公园里偷偷看她的人的影子，她看见了曾经属于他的那棵树，那条不大显眼的长凳子，他正坐在那里看书，思念她，为她受煎熬。她不得不把窗户关上，长叹一声：'可怜的人。”甚至她还伤心地抱怨过，阿里萨怎么没有她想象的那样顽固呢，当时，后悔已经太晚了。有那么几次，她还亡羊补牢地期待着一封永远没有收到的信。当她必须作出嫁给乌尔比诺医生的决定时，她发觉，既没有充足的理由拒绝阿里萨，也没有充足的理由要挑上他，心里更是七上八下。实际上，他对医生和对阿里萨同样不大喜欢，而且对医生更缺乏了解，医生的信没有他信里那种火热的感情，也没有象他那样做过那么多令人心醉的表白。的确，乌尔比诺医生的追求，从来不是以爱情的语言来表达的。奇怪的是，作为一个天主教徒，他只向她奉献尘世间的东西：保障，和谐，幸福。这些数字一旦相加，也许等于爱情，近乎是爱情吧？但是，这些又不是爱情。这些疑虑使她心乱如麻，因为她也并不坚信爱情是她生活中最需要的东西。 说来说去，她对乌尔比诺医生反感的主要原因是，他太象而不是太不象她爸爸梦寐以求地为女儿找的那个人。不可能不把他看成是词父亲狼狈为奸的小子，虽然实际上他不是，费尔米纳确信，自从看见他第二次走进她的家门，不请自来地为她诊断的时候起，就已经是了。同表姐伊尔德布兰达的谈话，使她心里更乱了。处在自己的牺牲者的地位上，表姐倾向阿里萨，甚至忘记了也许洛伦索?达萨把她请来是为了让她扩大有利于乌尔比诺医生的影响。只有上帝才知道，当表姐到电报局去找阿里萨的时候，费尔米纳作了多大努力才没有跟她一起去。她也想再见他一次，把疑虑澄清，同他单独谈谈，深刻地了解他，以便确信她在冲动中作出的决定不会把她推向一个更严重的境况，即在同父母单枪匹马地进行的战争中投降。但她投降了，在一生中的关键的一分钟里投降了，她一点儿也没考虑那个追求者的英俊的外貌，他的祖传的财富，他少年得志的声誉，以及他实际美德中的任何一点，而是因为担心错过机会。她眼看就要满二十一岁了。二十一岁是向命运屈服的秘密界限，这一点使她慌了手脚。这空前绝后的一分钟，就足以使她作出了上帝和人的金科玉律中规定的决定，至死方休。于是，一切疑虑都烟消云散了，她毫不内疚地做了理智向她指示的最正经的事情：用不带泪水的海绵在对阿里萨的记忆上一抹，把它全部擦掉了，在这个记忆原先占据的地方，她让它长上了一片茂盛的罂粟花。唯一做了的另一件事是，她比平常更深地叹息了一声——最后的一声：“可怜的人！” 然而，最可怕的疑虑从旅行结婚回来就开始出现了。他们还没打开箱子，家具包装还没拆开，准备供她做古老的卡萨尔杜埃罗侯爵府主妇之用的十一箱东西还没取出来，她就差点儿昏死过去，因为她发觉，她成了这个错误家庭的囚徒，更糟糕的是，和一个不是囚徒的人关在一起。六年之后她才出了牢笼。这六年是她一生中最不幸的六年，她绝望地忍受着婆婆的刁难，小姑的愚昧——她们没有在这个牢笼中活活烂掉，是因为关进牢笼已经成为她们心中的天经地义的事了。 甘心屈服于家庭礼教的乌尔比诺医生，对她的恳求装聋作哑。他相信，上帝的智慧和妻子的无限的适应能力将会使一切就绪。母亲的衰老使他心疼，营堂健在的喜悦，换个时代的话，会使最没信心的人也会产生求生的渴望的。不错，那位漂亮、聪明、在她那个环境里少见的敏感的女性，将近四十年来一直是她的人间天堂里的灵魂的主宰。编局使她痛苦到了只相信自己的地步，而且使她变得刻薄尖酸，视所有的人为敌。她的退化的唯一合理的解释是，她因丈夫睁着眼睛在一次黑人起义中丢了老命而怨恨——她自己就这么说，而本来唯一正确的牺牲应该是为了她而生存下去。说到底，费尔米纳的美满的婚姻，就只维持到结婚旅行那段时间，而那个唯一能帮助她免遭最后的灭顶之灾的人，又在母亲的威严面前吓得噤若寒蝉。对那个所谓母亲不久人世的欺骗，费尔米纳怪罪的是他，而不是那几个呆头呆脑的小姑子和那疯疯癫癫的婆婆。她到此时才发现，在学术权威和陶醉尘世乐趣的背后，她竟嫁了个不可救药的懦夫——一个因自己姓氏的社会分量才显得轩昂不凡的可怜虫，但已为时太晚了。 她把希望寄托在初生的儿子身上。感觉到他从自己的身体里出来的时候，她为摆脱某种不是自己的东西而觉得轻松。但是当助产婆把赤条条的、浑身是粘液和血的肮里肮脏的脖子上缠着脐带的儿子抱给她看，她自己觉得对那个从自己肚子里生出来的小惠子一点儿也不喜欢时，竟把自己也吓坏了。可是，在独坐宫殿的孤寂中，她渐渐认识了他。母子相互认识了，她欣喜若狂地发现：儿女不是因为是儿女，而是因为爱怜和抚养才成为亲人。在那个不幸的家庭里，除了儿子之外，她谁的气也不能忍受。寂寞，公墓似的花园，没有窗户的巨大的房间里凝滞不动的时间，都使她感到压抑。漫漫长夜里，从邻近的疯人院里传来的疯女人的叫声，使她觉得自己也要疯了。每天都要布置宴请用的桌子，铺上绣花台布，摆上银餐具和灵堂里的蜡烛，让五个鬼影子似的人坐下来用一杯加奶咖啡和奶酪饼当晚饭吃的习惯，使她觉得羞耻。她诅咒傍晚的念珠祈祷，诅咒饭前经，诅咒对她拿刀叉的姿势、象街上的女人似的撩开神秘的大步走路、穿得象马戏团演员、对待丈夫的热情方式、乃至不用头巾遮住胸部就给小孩喂奶等等没完没了的指责。当她刚刚按照英国的新派做法，邀请人们下午五点来喝茶、吃皇家饼干和花味甜食的时候，婆婆唐娜?布兰卡就扬言，反对在她家里用药来代替奶酪巧克力和木薯面包圈儿发汗。连做梦都免不了挨骂。一天早晨，费尔米纳说她梦见一陌生男人赤身裸体地在宫殿里走来走去，边走边撤及，唐娜?布兰卡涩声涩气地打断她的话说：“正经女人不可能做这种梦。” 除了始终觉得是寄人篱下之外，还有两件更倒霉的事。其一是，每天吃茄子，各种做法的茄子。唐娜为了表示对已故的丈夫的尊敬，不准改变这一习惯，而费尔米钢又拒不食用。她从小就讨厌茄子，在尝茄子味道之前就讨厌，因为她觉得茄子的颜色跟毒药似的。所不同的是，这一次她不得不承认，无论如何，在她的生活里有一点变得对她有利了，在她五岁的时候，她在吃饭时也说过同样的话，她父亲强迫她吃下了整整一锅为六个人准备的茄子。那一次，她以为她要死了，起先是没完没了他呕吐嚼碎了的茄子，后来又被灌了一碗罐油，来治她吞下大量茄子可能招致的疾病。记忆中，两种东西只是同一种泻药，不仅害怕它们的味道，而且害怕它们都是毒药，使她把茄子和德油混为一谈了。在卡萨杜埃罗侯爵府的催人呕吐的午餐上，她只好移开视线，免得想起程油使她吐得死去活来的情景。 另一件倒霉事是竖琴。一天，善于洞察媳妇肺腑的唐娜开口说道：“我不相信正经女人不会弹钢琴。”对这道慈谕，甚至她的儿子也想提出异议，因为他童年最贪玩的那些年头，就是在钢琴课堂这个牢笼里度过的，尽管他长大成人之后曾经感谢让他上了钢琴课。他难以想象，年已二十五岁，又是那么一种性格的妻子，关在钢琴课堂上怎么受得了。但母亲思准的仅仅是，把钢琴换成竖琴，其不近清理的理由是，竖琴是天使的乐器。于是，从维也纳运来了一架精美绝伦的竖琴，跟黄金做的一样，能发出金子般的声音。后来，一场火劫之后，这架钢琴成了市博物馆最珍贵的文物之一，费尔米纳忍受了这种无形的监禁，试图以最后的牺牲来阻止关系的恶化。起初，她向一位专门从蒙波斯请来的教师学琴，十五天后，这位教师猝然长逝，她又跟着培训班的乐师学了几年，教师嘴里喷出的坟墓里的气息，使竖琴学生们掩口不迭。 她对自己的逆来顺受感到惊讶。虽然在内心深处，在同丈夫调情逗趣或发生龈塘中她都不承认这一点，但她还是比自己想象还要更快地适应了对新处境的既妥协又不满的矛盾状态。她曾经有一句标榜自己我行我素的口头禅：“刮风的时候就让扇子见他妈的鬼大吧。”但后来，她一方面出于对自己轻而易举地取得的优越地位的珍惜，一方面又担心出丑和横遭讽刺，便决心忍受一切，包括羞辱，只希望上帝终有一天大发慈悲接唐娜归天。而唐娜则在祈祷中不遗余力地恳求上帝让死神同她见面。 乌尔比诺医生借口处于危机时刻，为自己的懦弱自我解嘲，甚至没有把心自问，母亲和妻子的所作所为是不是和她们所信仰的宗教背道而驰。他不承认和妻子冲突的根源是家庭中缺乏和睦气氛，他认为那是婚姻的本质造成的：婚姻是个只有靠上帝的无限仁慈才能存在的荒唐的创造。两个还不大了解的人，相互之间没有任何亲缘关系，性格不同，文化程度不同，甚至连性别也不同，突然就要在一块儿过日子，在同一张床上睡觉，共同面对两种也许是大相径庭的命运，这是大悖科学常理的。 他说：“夫妻之间的疙瘩每天晚上消失了，但每天吃早饭之前又必须重新制造。” 据他说，他们夫妇间的问题更是如此，那是在两个有着天渊之别的阶级之间产生的，而且又是在一个依然梦想回到总督时代的城市里产生的。唯一可能抹上的一点稀泥，如果存在这种稀泥的话，也是跟爱情同样不可靠而又脆弱的。而在他们夫妇之间，成婚的时候是没有这种稀泥的，当他们正要创造这种稀泥的时候，命运除了把他们推向现实之外没伸出援助之手。