Chapter 12 Chapter Six (1)

Fermina could not have imagined that Florentino Ariza would accept that letter, written in a state of rage, as a love letter.Her outburst of rage in that letter was so violent and sardonic that it was unbearable, not to mention unjust.However, in her view, all this was insignificant compared with the hurt and insult she had suffered.It was the last act of fortnight she had endured in order to settle herself down and adjust to her new surroundings.She wanted to be the old Fermina again, to take back everything she had to give up in half a century of servitude.This servile life undoubtedly made her happy, but the death of her husband left no trace of it on her.She was like a ghost wandering in someone else's house, and the house suddenly became spacious and desolate. She wandered around in boredom, constantly asking herself in pain, who was the real ghost: the dead husband or she, the widow.

Her husband left her alone in the dark sea, and she couldn't restrain the resentment towards him in her heart. Everything about him brought her to tears: the pajamas under the pillow, the sickly flat slippers, the memory of him standing in front of the mirror undressing—often when she was getting ready for bed—and the memory of his skin. The smell—the smell stuck with her long after his death.No matter what she did, she would stop while doing it and pat her forehead, because she suddenly remembered something she hadn't told him.There are many questions that only he can answer get into her mind all the time.Once he told her something that puzzled her: People who had their glue cut could feel pain and cramping in their missing leg.She felt the same way now, she had lost her husband, but she felt that he was still with her.

On the first morning of screenwriting, she turned over before she opened her eyes on the bed, trying to find a more comfortable position and continue to sleep again. It was at this time that she felt that he was dead.Only then did she realize that for the first time he had not spent the night at home. At the table she was not alone because there was no one else, but because she somehow believed that she was dining with someone who no longer existed.She waited for her daughter, the Ofelias, and their children, to return from New Orleans before she sat down again to eat at the table, not the usual table, but a smaller one that she had improvised on the porch. table.She hadn't been cooking a decent meal.When you are hungry, just walk into the kitchen, stick your spoon into the pot, and eat whatever you want, without using a plate, but while you eat, you stand in front of the small stove and talk to the maids.They were the only ones she liked and were more compatible with.

Yet, no matter how hard she tried, the image of her late husband was always in her mind, no matter where she was or what she did, to remind her of him.Although she takes pain for granted, she also wants to try not to wallow in it.She made up her mind to remove everything from the home that triggered her memories of her late husband. In the case of losing her husband, this was the only way she could think of to keep herself living in this home. This is a complete purge.The son agreed to take all the books from the study so that she could turn it into a sewing room—she hadn't had such a room since her marriage.Fermina was relieved that the daughter agreed to take some furniture and many things that she thought would be suitable for auction in New Orleans antique houses.But she later found out that the things she bought when she was traveling and getting married had become cultural relics of antique dealers, and she felt very uncomfortable.Regardless of the silent astonishment of the servants, or the confusion of the neighbors or friends who came to accompany her during those few days, she ordered a fire to be lit in the open space behind the house to bring back memories Everything belonging to her husband was burned: among them were the most expensive and elegant clothes in the city from the last century, the most exquisite leather shoes, a hat that looked more like his own than in the photo, and the man who stood up from it for the last time before he died. Rocking chairs, and countless objects that are closely connected with his life and have become part of him.She did it without hesitation, not only for the sake of hygiene, but also firmly believed that her husband would agree to it if he had a soul in heaven, because he had expressed to her several times that he would rather be cremated than Stuffed into a black, tightly stitched cedar coffin.Of course, his religion forbids this.He had dared to test the meaning of the archbishop and explored the possibility, but the archbishop gave him a categorically negative answer: this is a complete fantasy, and the church does not allow crematoriums to be set up in cemeteries, even for pagans. It doesn't work either.No one but Dr. Urbino had the idea to build such a crematorium.Fermina did not forget her husband's fear, and even in the first few hours of ignorance, she did not forget to order the carpenter to leave a slit in the coffin as a comfort to her husband.

In any case, those are futile actions.Fermina soon discovered that the memory of her deceased husband was so strong that it did not weaken with the passage of time.To make matters worse, after the clothes were burned, she not only still missed many things of her beloved husband, but what was particularly disturbing was that she seemed to hear the sound of his getting up all the time.These memories relieved her of her sorrow.Detached from everything, she resolved to live on in the memory of her late husband as if he hadn't died.She knew she still didn't feel good when she woke up every morning, but it was getting better.

Sure enough, after three weeks, she began to see the first few rays of light.However, as the light increases and becomes brighter, she gradually realizes that there is an evil ghost in her life, which can not let her have a moment of peace. The ghost was no longer the pitiful ghost that had spied on her in the Gospel Park--the ghost she so often fondly recalled in her old age--but the one in the tormenting gown The loathsome phantom with the hat on her breast, whose foolish impertinence so disturbed her that she could not think of him.Ever since she refused to marry at the age of eighteen, she had always believed that the seeds of hatred planted on him would take root and germinate over time.She felt this hatred all the time, and felt it wafting in the air when the ghost was near.As long as she sees him, she will be flustered and bewildered.That night, the flowers beside her husband's body were still fragrant, and she thought his vulgar words and deeds were just the first step, and God knows how many insidious revenge attempts were hidden behind it.

He stubbornly appeared in her mind, and the more she thought about it, the more she hated herself.On the second day of the funeral, when she woke up and thought of him, she frowned vigorously, made a firm movement, and finally drove him out of her mind.However, the anger that was driven away immediately returned, and she quickly understood that the more she wanted to forget him, the more she would remember him.And so, overcome at last by her old love, she mustered up the courage to recall the dreamy days of that unfulfilled love. She tried to remember what the little park, the broken almond tree, and the settee on which he sat courting her had seemed lost.Everything has changed, the tree has been cut down, and the carpet of yellow leaves is gone.Where the statue of the new hero was decapitated, another statue was re-established, in a splendid uniform, without a name, without a date, and without description of the statue.There is a very imposing plinth under the statue, in which the electric control device of the local area is installed. ——Her family's house had been sold many years ago, and it was completely destroyed in the hands of the provincial government.

It was not easy for Florentino Ariza to imagine what it was like at that time, but it was even more difficult to recognize the helpless and taciturn young man in the rain as the same old, sickly old man who stood before her. . In total disregard of her situation, and without a minimum of respect for her suffering, this man burned her soul with a fiery insult, which left her speechless and breathless. Not long after she returned from her stay at the Flores de Maria estate, having forgotten the unlucky moment that Miss Lynch had brought her, Cousin Hildebranda came to see her.My cousin is old and fat now, but she looks happy and happy, and she is accompanied by her eldest son.The son, like his father, had been a colonel in the army, but he had been reprimanded by his father for his disgraceful massacre of workers in the San Juan banana plantation in the Everglades.The two cousins ​​have met each other many times, and each time the time passes slowly in recalling the days when they met.On her last visit, Hildebranda was nostalgic for the past more than ever, with mixed feelings about the passing of time and her own age.

As a reminiscence, she brought with her a photograph of them in Madame Guzi, taken by a Belgian photographer that afternoon when the young Urbino fell in love with the wayward Fermina.Fermina's own photo has been lost, and Hildebranda's has faded to the point where it is almost impossible to see, but through the blurry photo, they can still be recognized as young and beautiful. Charming, it's a pity that all this has passed and will never come again. It was impossible to keep Hildebranda from talking about Florentino Ariza, because she had always linked his fate with her own.She recalled that since she sent her first telegram, she could never get out of her heart the sad and thin image of him destined to be forgotten by lovers.Fermina had met him many times but had never spoken to him, and she could not imagine that he was the one she had loved for the first time.All the news about him reached her ears, just like the news about all the more or less famous people in Jiaben City would reach her ears sooner or later.People said he never married because he was not in the same habits as other people, but that didn't catch her attention either.The reason is that she has always ignored the rumors, and because such things of many men are often spread so that they lose their original appearance.On the contrary, she wondered that Ariza still insisted on wearing his strange clothes and using his strange detergents.Moreover, it remains mysterious and inexplicable after he forges a path in life in such a compelling and respectable manner.She could not believe that he was the old Ariza.Hildebranda was always amazed when he sighed, "Poor man, how much he has suffered."Because for a long time when she saw him, she had no painful feelings, and his shadow had disappeared from her heart.

However, when she came back from Flores de Maria and ran into him at the movies one night, a strange feeling came over her.He was with a black woman and she didn't care.But she was surprised that he was well-maintained and well-behaved.She didn't expect that because of Miss Lynch's sudden intrusion into her private life, it was she who changed, not him.From then on, for more than twenty years, she continued to observe him with more sympathetic eyes.On the night of her husband's vigil, she thought not only that it was understandable for him to be there, but that it was even a sign that his resentment towards her had dissipated: it was an act of forgiveness and forgetting.So she was surprised when he dramatically reaffirmed to her a love that, in her opinion, never existed.She thought that at her and Florentino Ariza's age she had no desires other than to make do with life.

After the symbolic cremation ceremony for her husband, the great anger caused by the first shock not only did not disappear at all, but continued to increase, and even when she felt powerless to control, the anger spread in all directions open.What's more, she tried to weaken the memory of her deceased husband, but the memory space vacated was gradually occupied by the poppie lawn hiding the memory of Ariza in a ruthless way.In this way, she was always forced to think about him, and the more she thought about him, the angrier she became, and the angrier she was, the more she missed him. She felt that she couldn't bear it, and she was going crazy. So she sat down at her deceased husband's desk and wrote a three-page letter to Florentino Ariza, in which she scolded him and challenged him mercilessly to do it consciously. She was relieved after the most disreputable event of her long life. For Ariza, those three weeks were also excruciatingly painful.On the night of reaffirming his love to Fermina, he wandered aimlessly along the streets that had been washed out by the flood that afternoon, asking himself from time to time in horror how he had just put the animal that had resisted his siege for more than half a century The tiger was killed, what should I do with this tiger skin now?The city is on edge due to the ferocious onslaught of the floods.In some of the houses, half-naked men and women tried to carry something from the flood waters.Ariza felt that the public's disaster was closely related to him.But the air was calm, and the stars of the Caribbean sky remained motionless in their places.Suddenly, in the silence, Ariza heard the male voice that he and Casciani had heard many years ago at the same time and on the same street corner: "I came back from the bridge with tears on my face." In a way, the song had something to do with death that night, but only for Ariza. Never before had he thought of Transito so much, of her witty words and the coiffure of a beguiling beauty adorned with paper flowers.Whenever he was on the brink of disaster, he needed a woman's protection, which was inevitable for him.So he went to normal school, to find the women he could get. He saw lights in the long row of windows in America Vicuña's bedroom.It took him a lot of effort to control himself, and he didn't take the sleeping girl like his granddaughter away from the cradle emitting her breath at two o'clock in the morning like the old grandfather. On the other side of the city, Casciani was alone and free, willing to give him the sympathy he needed, whether it was two in the morning, three in the morning, or any time of the day.It was not the first time for him to knock on her door in the torment of her insomnia, but he knew that she was too smart and they loved too deeply, so long as he cried in her arms, he had to ask her Tell the real reason for your grief.He walked like a nocturnal spirit through the deserted city, and after much deliberation, he finally decided that it would be more suitable to find the "double widow" Providencia Petre than any other woman.She is ten years younger than him.They have known each other for a century.They hadn't seen each other for a while, just because she didn't want him to see her now: half-insomniac, old-fashioned. Thinking of her, Ariza immediately walked back to the Via Pentanas, packed two bottles of Oporto wine and a bottle of pickles in a shopping bag, and went to see her again, in fact, he didn't even know if she was there or not. In the original home, I didn't know if I was alone or if I was still alive. Providencia Pitre had not yet forgotten their code, and when he scratched at the door with his nails she knew he was coming.They thought they were young when they started using the code, but they weren't.She opened the door for him without asking.The street was dark, and he was barely visible in his black tweed suit and hard hat, with his bat umbrella slung over his arm.Her eyesight was not good, and the light was dim, so she couldn't see who he was.But she recognized him immediately by the lantern-like light from the metal frames of his glasses.He looked like a murderer with blood on his hands. "Please take me in, the poor orphan!" he said. In order to find a topic, it was the only thing he said.He was amazed at how much she had aged since the last time they saw her, and realized at the same time that she would see him the same way.However, he immediately thought, after a while, when both of them recover from the initial shock of reuniting after a long absence, they will gradually find that the other has less scars from life, and feel that they are still the same as they were just forty years ago. As young as when we met.Thinking of this, he was comforted. "It looks like you were at a funeral," she said. Indeed.Like everyone in the city, she had been at the window since eleven o'clock, watching the largest and most luxurious funeral procession that had been seen since the death of Archbishop Del Luna.The earth-shaking cannon, the cacophony of military music, and the funeral song over the mingled bells of all the cathedrals that had been ringing since the first day woke her from her siesta.From the balcony she saw soldiers in the uniform of the guard of honor and on horseback, religious groups, school teams, long black coaches with the windows down and the authorities, wearing helmets with feathers on the brim, and golden horses. The carriages drawn by draped horses, the yellow flag-covered coffins drawn by first-class historic gun carriages, and a row of old-fashioned open carriages in the last line, carrying wreaths, looked very lively.Shortly after noon, the funeral procession had just passed the balcony of Providencia Pitre when the rain began to pour down and the people fled in panic. "There is no more absurd way of dying!" she said. "Death doesn't have absurd meaning," he said, and added sadly, "Especially at our age." They sat on the platform facing the vast sea, looked at the moon, the halo around the moon almost occupied half of the sky, and watched the colorful lights on the ships in the distance flickering endlessly.They drank Oporto wine and ate sauerkraut and slices of bread that Providencia Pietre had cut from a large loaf, enjoying the warm, fragrant breeze that blew in after the storm.She had no children, was a widow at thirty-five, and they spent many similar evenings together.Ariza saw her at the time when she could receive any man who would accompany her, even renting him by the hour.But the two of them struck up a relationship that seemed more serious and enduring than it actually was. Though she never hinted at it, she would have married him a second time if he had wanted to, even if it meant selling her soul to the devil.She knew it was not easy to come to terms with his stinginess, his premature decay, his eccentricity, his desire to have everything and nothing.But, having said that, there is no man who is more willing to let a woman accompany him, because there is no second man in the world who needs love so much.However, there is no more naughty man in the world than him.Therefore, her love for him is limited every time, and the limit is not to interfere with his determination to love Fermina freely.Nevertheless, their relationship lasted for many years, even after he had packed everything and remarried Providencia Pitre to a commercial agent who had come here for three months on business and travel.She had one daughter and four sons by the merchant, one of whom, she swore, was of Florentino Ariza. They just talked, regardless of the time, because they were used to sharing their insomnia together when they were young.Now that they are older, insomnia doesn't matter to them even more.Although Florentino Ariza seldom had more than two drinks, he had had three tonight and hadn't recovered.He was sweating profusely, and the "double widow" persuaded him to take off his coat, waistcoat and trousers. If he wanted to, he could take off all of them. What's the matter? In the final analysis, they understood each other better naked than clothed.He said he would take it off if she took it off, but she didn't want to.Long ago, she had looked in the wardrobe mirror once, and it dawned on her that she no longer had the courage to let him or anyone see her naked body. Ariza was excited and hadn't calmed down after four glasses of opporto.He continued to talk about the past, talking about the good memories of the past. For many years, this was his only topic. He was eager to find a way from the past history to vent his pent-up depression and relax himself.That's what they need, and he's going to tell it all.When he saw the first few lights in the sky, he tried to get close to the "double widow" in a calm way.He seemed to ask her by chance: "You are now a widow and old, what will you do if someone proposes to marry you?" She smiled wrinkled her face and asked him in turn: "Do you mean Is it the widow of Urbino?" Ariza always forgot that the last thing he should have been ignorant of were women, especially Providencia Portre, who thought more about the secrets of their problems than they did about them.He was flustered by her sharp and frightening words, and quickly denied: "I'm talking about you." She laughed again: "Trick your bitch! May she rest in peace in the ground." She forced him to tell what he could tell.Because she knew that neither he nor any other man would wake her at three o'clock in the morning just to drink Oporto wine and eat pickles and bread after years of absence."It's only done when one is in extreme pain," she said. Florentino Ariza was defeated. "You're wrong this time," he said. "I'm here tonight to sing rather." "Then let's sing!" she said. And so he began to sing, in a beautiful voice, the popular song of the day: "I can't live without you, Ramona." The night was over.The woman had shown him how clever she was, and he dared not play the forbidden game with her.He walked out as if in another city.There was the last of the mutant dahlias in June, which looked very strange.The newly built streets were still shrouded in night, and the widows who were going to catch the five o'clock early mass rushed past one by one.Then, in order to avoid the encounter, he, not they, had to go to another sidewalk, lest they see his unstoppable tears.These tears were not the tears he had held back since midnight, as he thought, but the tears he had been holding back since fifty-one years, nine months and four days. He didn't know when it was, and he didn't know where he was when he woke up. He only saw a big dazzling window opposite.The sound of America Vicuña and the maids playing with a ball in the garden brought him back to reality. It turned out that he was on his mother's bed, and his mother's bedroom was kept intact. He often slept there. When loneliness tormented him and made him restless, it could reduce loneliness a little, but of course there were not many times like this.Opposite the bed was the large mirror in Don Sancho's inn, and as soon as you looked at it, you saw Fermina reflected in it.He knew it was Saturday because that was the only day the driver had brought America Vicuña home from boarding school.He understood that he had fallen asleep without knowing it and had a dream in which he could not fall asleep and Fermina was watching him with a scowling face.As he took a shower, he thought about what to do next. He unhurriedly put on his best clothes, put on some perfume, and glued on his pointed white beard.As soon as he was out of the bedroom, he saw from the second-floor hallway the pretty girl in uniform jumping up to catch a ball, the charm of which had made him tremble on so many Saturdays, but not this morning. To make him feel the slightest fluctuation, he let her go with him.He took her to America's Ice Cream, which was packed with parents and children eating ice cream under a large ceiling fan.America Vicuña ordered ice cream with several layers of different colors, served in a large glass.It's her favorite ice cream and the best seller in the store because it emits a magical smoke.Florentino Ariza watched her as he sipped his black coffee.She was eating ice cream with a very long spoon, so clean that there was not even the bottom left.He looked at her intently, and suddenly said to her, "I'm getting married." She held the spoon, looked into his eyes with a puzzled expression, immediately calmed down, and smiled. "Liar," she said, "the old man won't marry." That afternoon they watched a puppet show together in the park, ate lunch at a fish stand on the jetty, and watched wild animals in cages in a circus that had just arrived in town.I bought all kinds of sweets at the city gate to take to school.They drove around the city a few times in an open car, to accustom her to the notion that he was now her guardian, not her lover.Then, in an incessant downpour, he dropped her off at boarding school on time for vespers.On Sunday, he didn't show up, but sent her a car so she could go out with his girlfriend.From the previous week, he could clearly see the age gap between the two.That night he made up his mind to write a letter to Fermina asking for forgiveness, even if it was a little harsher.He actually wrote the letter the next day.On Monday, exactly three weeks after his ordeal, he came in rain-soaked and saw her letter straight away. It was eight o'clock in the evening.The two maids were already lying down and they lit the only "eternal lamp" in the corridor so that Ariza could enter the bedroom by the light.He knew that his simple and dull supper was already on the dining-room table.However, for several days, he has had no appetite, and often eats something indiscriminately.After seeing the letter, the only bit of hunger disappeared because of the excitement.His hands were trembling, and it took a lot of effort to turn on the lamp in the bedroom.He put the soaked letter on the bed and lit the small lamp on the bedside table.Then, as usual, he tried his best to pretend that nothing had happened, calmed himself down, took off his soaked coat, hung it on the back of the charm, and took off his waistcoat and folded it on the coat.Then he took off the black ribbon and the now-out-of-fashion Serig collar, and pulled off the shirt. The buckle was also undone to the waist, and the belt was loosened to allow unimpeded breathing.At last,.He took off his hat and put it by the window to dry.He was startled suddenly, his body trembled, he couldn't remember where he put the letter.He was so nervous that he was surprised when he found it, because he didn't remember putting the letter on the bed.Before opening the letter, he dried the envelope with a handkerchief, taking care not to drown his name in the black water.At the same time as he opened the letter, he realized that a third party had known about it, because Urbino's regret had been written in haste to people outside her social circle just three weeks after her husband's death, and had not been sent by post. , and did not let others deliver it to the recipient in person, but mysteriously stuffed it in through the crack of the door like writing an anonymous note.No matter who sent the letter, they would pay attention to such things. The paste on the envelope had been soaked with water, so it could be opened without opening it, but the inside was still dry, and there were three densely written pages without letterhead, signed with the initials of her married name. He leaned on the bed and quickly read the letter. What surprised him was not so much the content of the letter, but rather the tone of the letter. Before he saw the second page, he already knew that it was what he was waiting for. scolding letter.He unfolded the letter and put it under the lamp on the bedside table, then took off his wet shoes and socks, turned off the headlights, and finally put on the chamois beard mask, and lay down before he knew it, using the pillow as a backrest He continued to read the letter on the two large pillows.He read the letter again, word by word, without missing a single word, and then he read it four more times until he became so numb that he didn't know what it said.Finally he put the letter in the drawer of the bedside table and lay on his back with his arms crossed behind his head.For four hours, his eyes were fixed on the mirror she had looked in, motionless, dead.At exactly twelve midnight, he went to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee as strong as petroleum crude oil, took it to the dormitory, and put his dentures in boric acid water, which was always on the bedside table. He lay down again like a piece of marble, changing his position every once in a while, drinking a sip of coffee until the maid brought a full pot of coffee at six o'clock the next morning. At this time, Florentino Ariza already knew what to do step by step.In fact, he was not sorry to read the words that condemned him, and he did not intend to discern the unjust accusations.He understood Fermina's character and the crux of the problem, to avoid making things worse.All that interested him was that the letter itself gave him the opportunity, and acknowledged his right to reply.To be more specific, it was she who wanted his answer. Thus, life was now where he wanted to take her, and the rest depended on him, and he was sure that his half-century-plus of hell would still test him so badly that he was ready to take her. With greater passion, with greater pain.Deeper love to face these tests, for this will be the last test. Five days after receiving the reply from Fermina, he came to the office feeling empty, surrounded by an unusual phenomenon, the sound of the typewriter was absent, and the silence was more evocative than the crackling of typing. people's attention.But it was a temporary pause. When the sound of popping beans started to sound again, Ariza involuntarily pushed open the door of Casciani's office.He saw her sitting in front of her typewriter, which obeyed her fingertips like a living person. She felt that someone was watching her, and she glanced at the door with her strange and terrible smile, but she did not stop. Come down, but continue to finish typing that paragraph of text. "Please tell me one thing, my dear lioness," Ariza asked, "how would you feel if you received a very impolite love letter?" She usually doesn't care about anything, but after hearing this, a surprised expression appeared on her face. "My God!" she exclaimed, "you see, nothing like this has ever happened to me!" That being the case, it was difficult for her to answer.In fact, before this, Ariza had not considered this matter, so he decided not to do anything, but to take a risk to the end.Amid the good-natured ridicule of the staff, he moved a typewriter from the office to his home. "The old parrot can't learn to talk," said the clerk.Casciani, who loves to join in the fun of anything new, volunteered to teach him how to type. However, since Lotario Temagut wanted to teach him to play the violin according to the score, he opposed the comprehensive and systematic learning method.At that time, Zhitario had threatened him that he would have to study for at least a year.It takes at least five years to play in a professional band.To stand out, practice at least six hours a day.However, he asked his mother to buy him a violin for the blind. After less than a year of practicing according to the five basic rules Lotario pointed out to him, he even dared to perform in the church chorus, and he was able to give the violin in the cemetery for the poor. Fermina played the serenade and asked Qingfeng to teach her.If he can learn to play the violin at the age of twenty, then what can be difficult for him.He couldn't understand why at the age of seventy-six he couldn't learn to operate a typewriter with just one finger! He was right.It took him three days to memorize the position of the letters on the keyboard, another six days to learn to type while thinking, and another three days to type out the first accurate letter after tearing up half a ream of paper. letter.At the beginning of the letter, he put a solemn address: madam, and his own signature used the initials of his name, just like a letter that was perfumed when he was young.He mailed the letter, enveloped with mourning curlicues, as was the custom when writing letters to newly widowed women.The sender's name was not written on the envelope. This letter has been written for six pages, and it is different from any letter in the past, whether it is tone, style or rhetoric, it is very different from the love letter of the first love.His exposition is so reasonable, so measured.In a way, it was his most aptly written business letter.If years later it would almost be considered an insult to use a typewriter to type a personal letter, yet at the time the typewriter was an office "animal" without ethics of its own, and its widespread use in the home had yet to enter the annals of urban history .Writing on a typewriter is more like a bold reform action, which is probably how Fermina understood it, because in the second letter she wrote to Ariza after she had received more than forty letters from Ariza, the first letter Ask him to forgive his illegible handwriting, since she has no writing instrument more advanced than a fountain pen. Ariza did not mention at all in her letter the letter of incrimination she had sent him, but from the very beginning wanted to take a completely different approach to enlightening her, without any reference to past love affairs.In short, nothing about the past is mentioned, and everything starts from scratch.Rather, it is a conclusion based on my own views and experience on the relationship between men and women and extensive thinking about life.He once wanted to write these contents as a supplement to the book "Complete Books".只是此时，他把这种思考遮掩在一种长者的风度之后，有如老人的回忆录，以便不叫人明显地看出那份爱情文献的实质。他先按旧模式起草了许多底稿，为了不费时费力加以修改，他把它们干脆付诸一炬。他知道，任何常规的疏忽，些微的怀念之情，都可能搅起她心中对往事的痛苦回忆。虽然他预料她在鼓起勇气撕开第一封信之前会把一百封信退给他，可他还是希望退信的事情一次也不要发生。因此，他象筹划一次决战那样，反复斟酌信中的每一个措辞。一切都需与从前的信不同，以便在一个经历了大半生的女人身上激起新的好奇、新的希望和新的兴趣。这封信应该是一种丧失理智的幻想，能给予她渴望得到的勇气，把一个阶级的偏见扔进垃圾堆里。这个阶级不是她出身的阶级，但最后变得比任何其他阶级更象她出身的阶级。这封信应该教会她把爱情想成美好的事情，而不是达到某种目的的手段，而且爱情本身就应该有始有终。 他清楚地意识到不能指望立即得到答复，只要信不被退回他也就心满意足了、这封信没有退回来，以后的信也没有退回来。随着日子一天天过去，他越来越焦急。 时间越长，越是不见退信，他就越希望得到回信。他写信的多少，开始取决于他打字的熟练程度。最初每周一封，后来每周二封，最后是每日一封了。他对邮电事业从开创时代至今所取得的进步感到高兴，由于这种进步，他可以天天去邮局给同一个人发信，不必担心被人发现，也不必为找人送信冒风险。派一个职员去买够一个月用的邮票，然后将信塞进老城的任何一个信箱中，这是件很容易的事。很快他就把那一习惯纳入他的生活常现了：他利用夜间失眠的时间写信，第二天去办公室时在街角的信箱前让司机停车一分钟，亲自下车去投寄。他从不让司机代他做这件事。 一个雨天的早晨，司机想代他投寄，被他婉言拒绝。有时他加倍小心地不是带一封信，而是同时带上数封信出门，以便显得自然些。司机不知情，其实其它的信都是阿里萨寄给自己的一张张白纸。只有作为监护人，每月末给阿美利卡?维库尼亚的父母寄上一封信，谈谈对女孩的精神状态、健康状况以及学习成绩的印象。除此之外，他从未与任何人有私人通信关系。 从第一个月起，他就开始编号，每封信开头都象报纸上的连载文章那样，对前一封作个小结，生怕费尔米纳不懂信件的连贯性。此外，每日写一封信时，他还将带哀悼标记的信封换成了白色长信封，从而赋予这些信件以一般商业信函的格式。 从一开始他就耐心地准备接受一次更大的考验，至少在没有确凿的证据使他能意识到自己只不过是用一种不同的方式白白浪费时间之前，他是绝不会罢休的。他死心塌地地等待着，不象年轻时候那样怨恨和消沉，而是以一个混凝土般的老人的固执在等待着。他在内河航运公司没有别的事可想，也没有别的事可干，等待费尔米纳的信就是一切。他确信自己能活下去，而且能活得很好，不管是明天、后天或者更晚，费尔米纳最终会相信，她那孤苦伶仃的寡妇的生活，只有他才能解救，那时他依然会很好地保持着自己的男子气概。 与此同时，阿里萨仍旧过着正常的生活。他预料会得到一个满意的回答，因此又第二次着手修缮房子，以便房子真的能和未来的女主人相称。他按照自己的许诺，又去看了几次普鲁登西亚?皮特雷，以向她表明，尽管年龄不饶人，他还是爱她。 这几次，有的是在夜间百无聊赖的时候去的，有的是在大白天她的大门开着的时候去的。他照常从安德雷亚?瓦龙的门前走过，有一夜他发现她浴室的灯关着，他又走了进去。 唯一的妨碍是他与阿美利卡?维库尼亚的关系。他再次向司机重申了他的命令，让他每星期六上午十时到寄宿学校去接她，但他不知道该拿她怎么办。他头一次没有去，她对这一变化感到十分不悦。他将她委托给女佣，让她们带她去看下午的电影，听儿童公园的露天音乐会，参加慈善摸彩，或者安排她和女同学去玩，以避开把她带到办公室的那座隐蔽的天堂去。从第一次带她去那儿之后，她就老想再去。 他从未发现，女人可以在三天之内成熟。从他去帕德雷港湾的帆船上迎接她的时候起，至今已过了整整三年。不管他怎么想使这一变化进展得缓慢一些，对她来说仍是残忍的，而且她不懂得这个变化的原因。那天在冷饮店他告诉她，他要结婚，道出了真情，她当时惶惶不安，但过后她又觉得此话实在荒唐，不可能，于是一会儿她就忘得一干二净了。然而，她很快就发现，他的表现象是真的，而且对她支吾搪塞，不加解释，好象他不是比她大六十岁，而是比她小六十岁。 一个星期六的下午，阿里萨看见她在他的寝室里试着打字。她打得不错，她在学校里有这门课。她已经打了多半页纸，在某个段落有几句话显然反映了她的精神状态。阿里萨躬下身去，趴到她肩膀上看看她到底在打什么。他那男子的热气，断断续续的呼吸以及农服上的香气，顿时使她惶惑起来。她已经不是那个刚到的小孩子了。那时，他给她脱衣服，象哄婴儿似的哄着：喂，小鞋脱下来给小熊穿！真乖，把小衬衣脱下来给小狗穿！听话，把小花衬裤脱下来给小白兔穿！好了，在爸爸脸上轻轻吻一下。可现在不是了。No!现在她已是个地地道道喜欢采取主动的女人了。 他仍在思念费尔米纳。六个月过去了，什么音信也没有。他在床上翻来覆去，直到天亮，他坠落到另一种失眠的荒野。他想，费尔米纳看到那淡雅的信封肯定会把信打开，也一定会看到和当年其它信上一样的她所熟悉的名字的第一个字母。实际上，她原封不动地把它们扔进了烧垃圾的火堆里。以后的信，她一看信封就做了同样处理，连拆都不拆。总之，不管他绞尽脑汁写出多少信，在她手里都会遭到同样的命运。他不相信会有这样的女人，能抗住一切好奇心，半年中间，每天收到一封信，居然连用什么颜色的墨水写的都不想知道。要说有这样一个女人的话，那只能是她。 阿里萨感到，老年的光阴不是水平的激流，而是无底的地下蓄水池，记忆力就从那里排走了。他的智慧将慢慢地耗尽。在拉?曼加别墅转悠了几天之后，他才明白，年轻时的那一套，难以敲开被丧事封死了的大门。一天早上，他在电话簿上找一个电话号码，偶然看到了她的电话。他拨了电话，电话铃响了许多次，最后他听出了她的声音， 严肃而微弱：“喂2哪一位？”他没说话，把电话挂了，但是那无限遥远的抓不住的声音却刺疼了他的。Second. 那几天，卡西亚妮庆祝自己的生日，把为数不多的几个朋友请到了家里。阿里萨心不在焉，把鸡汤撒在身上，她将餐巾在水杯中蘸湿，给他擦干净衣领，然后给他戴上一个围嘴，免得他再闹出什么事来。他真象个老娃娃。在用餐时，她发现他好几次摘下眼镜用手帕擦拭泪水。喝咖啡时，他端着杯子就睡着了，她想轻轻地把杯子接过来，可是他羞愧地惊醒说：“我只是闭上眼睛休息一会儿。”卡西亚妮夜里躺下时吃惊地想，他怎么老成这个样子了! 乌尔比诺医生逝世一周年时，家属发出请柬，邀请亲朋好友出席纪念弥撒，地点在大教堂。迄今阿里萨已经寄出了一百三十二封信，然而没有收到她的只言片语。 这促使他决定去参加纪念弥撒，即使自己并不在被邀请之列。这是一次奢华而不那么感人的社交活动。头几排是空的，那是一些永久保留的世代相传的座位，靠背上的铜牌刻着主人的名字。阿里萨是最初到达的客人之一，目的是想在费尔米纳必经之路上省个位子。他想，最佳位置应是中殿，就是在那些永久保留位于的后面。可是，那里的人很多，找不到空位子，他不得不坐到穷亲戚们的大厅里去。从那儿他看见费尔米纳由儿子搀扶着走进来，没戴首饰，身穿一件黑天鹅绒的长衫，一大排纽扣从脖子一直到脚尖，象主教的长袍。她肩上搭一块卡斯蒂亚饰边窄披肩，不象其他寡妇那样戴着挂面纱的帽子，就连许多巴望守寡的女人也是戴那种挂面纱的帽子的。未被遮掩的脸上闪着白白的光彩，被外形的眼睛在中殿巨大的技形吊灯下显示出特有的活力。她挺直腰板走看，如此高傲，如此自信，看上去年纪和她儿子一般大。阿里萨站立着，指尖扶在长椅靠背上，一直到昏厥的感觉过去，因为他觉得，他与她不是仅仅隔开七步之远的距离，而是在两个不同的世界里。 费尔米纳几乎一直站在大祭坛前面的家属位置上，象看歌剧一样，风度不凡地出席弥撒仪式。最后，她却打破了历来的礼拜仪式规矩，没有按当时习惯站在那儿接受人们的再次哀悼，而是自己走过去向每个来宾表示谢意，这是与她的为人十分一致的革新举动。她向大家逐一问候，最后轮到了穷亲戚们。她环视周围，看看有没有需要她打招呼的熟人。阿里萨此时感到有一股神奇的力量将他从中心推了出来，果然，她看见了他。费尔米纳以其社交老手的潇洒风度，丝毫没有犹豫地离开了她的陪伴者，向他伸过手去，露出温柔的微笑对他说：“您来了，谢谢！” 原来，她不仅收到了那些信，而且怀着极大的兴趣读过了。她从中发现了许多发人深省的道理，从而考虑要继续好好活下去。收到第一封信时，她正和女儿在桌子上吃早餐。她看见是用打字机打的，便好奇地打开了信，一看到签名的第一个字母，她脸上马上泛起红晕，感到热辣辣的。她马上随机应变，将信放到围裙的口袋里，说：“是政府的悼唁信。”女儿感到奇怪：“可悼唁信全都到了呀！”她泰然自若的说：“这是另一封。”她想事后烧掉，免得女儿再问，可她抵不住看上一眼的诱惑。她等待的是对自己那封辱骂信的应有的反驳。其实，在那封信寄出的同时，她自己已感到忐忑不安。可是，从信中庄重的称呼和第一段的意思，她就清楚了在这个世界上发生了点什么变化。结果，她的好奇心变得如此强烈，以致将自己关进寝室，在烧掉之前安安静静地读一下。她一连看了三遍。 那是对人生、爱情、老年和死亡的思考。这些思想曾经多次象夜间的小鸟似的在她头上扑扇着翅膀掠过，但是当她想抓住它们时，它们却四散飞走，只留下一片羽毛。这些创见就摆在面前，如此清晰，如此简单明了，就象她自己也曾乐意说出来的那样。她又一次感到难过，自己的丈夫已经死了，不能和他一块探讨，就象每天睡觉以前评说当天的某些事情那样。就这样，站在她面前的是一个陌生的阿里萨，他有着一种敏锐的洞察力和远见卓识，这与其年轻时狂热的信件和整个一生的可怜遭遇是不相符的。他的话别出心裁，如跟埃斯科拉斯蒂卡姑妈眼中那种受圣灵启示的男子一样。这么一想，她又象第一次收到他的信时那样害怕起来。但不管怎么说，最使她安心的是，她确信那封信并非重复守灵的那天晚上的粗鲁话语，而是一种打算勾销过去的十分高尚的行为。 以后的信终于使她平静下来。但她在怀着越来越浓厚的兴趣阅读之后，还是把它付之一炬，尽管在烧掉后她逐渐感到一种无法消除的内疚。就这样，当她开始收到编号的信时，她找到了自己所希望的不将信毁掉的道德上的证据。不管怎么说，她最初的意图并非是把信留给自己，而是等待机会将信还给阿里萨。她认为，对人类那么有用的东西不该丢失。糟糕的是，随着时日的流逝，她还是一封接一封地收到他的信件，平均三、四天就收到一封。她不愿使自己难堪，也不愿写一封信解释——她的矜持不允许她这样做，可她不知道除此之外还有什么办法把信还给他。 第一年守寡对她来说就足够了。对丈夫的纯洁回忆不再妨碍她的日常活动，不再妨碍她考虑隐私，也不再妨碍她有某些实实在在的想法，而是变成了一种指导和照料她的思想指南。 有时，在她确实需要他的地方，她会看到他，不象是一个幽灵，而象是一个有血有肉的躯体。她相信他就在那里，还活着，但没有了男子的怪病，没有家长式的指手画脚的苛求，也没有总是要求她以他爱她的方式爱他：不分场合的亲吻，日日夜夜的叙情。确信这一点，使她受到鼓舞。因为这样她就比他活着的时候对他理解得更深，理解他渴望她的爱的心情，理解他迫不及待地要在她身上找到他社交生活支柱的愿望。实际上，他的愿望从来没有实现过。一天，她大失所望，曾这样对他喊道：“你没有看到我是多么不幸吗？”他以他特有的动作摘下眼镜，既不愠怒，也不恐慌，只是用那孩子般无真明亮的大眼睛注视着她，只用一句话就让她知道了他那惊人的智慧的全部分量：“你要永远记住，一对恩爱夫妻最重要的不是幸福，而是稳定的关系。”从守寡最初感到寂寞时开始，她理解了，那句话并不象她当时所想的那样隐藏着卑劣的威胁，而是给他们两人提供了充满幸福的时刻的基石出。 在多次环球旅行中，费尔米纳看中什么就买什么。她买东西常常出于一时冲动，可丈夫也乐得找出恰当的理由来满足她。这些东西不论在罗马。巴黎、伦敦的玻璃橱窗里，还是在那摩天大楼已开始日益增多，查尔斯顿舞曲震天响的纽约市的玻璃橱窗里，都是美丽有用的。因而，每次到家她都带回五。六个大立柜，立柜上挂着耀眼的金属领，四角包着铜皮，就象神话故事中的棺材一样。她成了世界上最新奇迹的主人，然而这些东西平时锁着并不值钱，只有被她社交范围内的某人看中的一瞬间，才显示出它们的珍贵。这些东西本来就是为炫耀而置，哪怕让别人看到一次。 她在自己开始衰老前很久，就意识到自己在公共场所里的高傲和虚荣心，人们常常听到她在家中这么说：“这么多破烂，真得好好处理一下，否则连住的地方都没有了。”乌尔比诺大夫嘲笑她这种想法是徒劳无益的，因为他知道，如果腾出空来，很快又会被新添置的东西占据。但是她仍坚持，因为的确没有立锥之地了，何况没有任何一件东西是实用的，如挂着的衬衣、揉成一难压在厨房柜子里的欧式冬大衣，都是长期没用过的。于是，有一天早晨起床时，她感到精神很好，就开始翻箱倒柜，掏空了衣箱，最后拆除了阁楼，对那一堆堆过时的衣服来了一次大扫荡，还有那些根本没有机会戴的时髦的帽子，欧洲艺术家按女皇加冕时穿的式样来设计的鞋子，也都—一作了处理。其实这种鞋子，在这儿是受到高贵小姐们鄙视的，因为它跟黑种女人在市场上买来的在家中穿的便鞋是一样的。整个上午，家里平台都处于紧急状态，一阵阵刺鼻的樟脑球味简直令人难以呼吸。最后她看到那么多扔在地上的丝绸、织锦和金银丝带以及黄狐狸尾巴都要扔进火堆，也不免感到可惜。 “世上还有许多人没饭吃，”她说，“把这些东西烧掉真是罪过啊！” 于是焚烧推迟了，而且是无限期地推迟了，东西只不过换了个地方，从特许的位置换到用老马厩改成的剩余物资仓库。同时，腾出来的地方，正如乌尔比诺医生所说，开始又满满地放上了新的东西。这些东西只要放在衣柜里一小会儿后便永远放在里面了，最后则被投入火堆。她说：“应该想出个办法处理那些没有一点用处但又弃之可惜的东西。”正是这样，各种东西以使她自己都惧怕的贪婪，抢占着家里的空间，而人则被挤到角落中去，直到费尔米纳将它们放到看不见的地方为止。 她并不象自己认为的那样有条有理，而是用一种特殊的绝招，将乱七八糟的东西堆在一起。乌尔比诺逝世那天，人们不得不腾出半间书房，把东西堆在宿舍里，以便有个地方守灵。 死神从这个家中经过，使问题得到了最后解决。烧掉丈夫的衣服，费尔米纳发现自己并没有什么不安，而且她以同样的勇气继续每隔一段时间就点起一堆大火，把一切都扔进去，不管新的还是旧的，也不考虑富人的妒忌和将要饿死的穷人的报复。最后，她让人把芒果树连根刨出，半点儿不幸的痕迹也不留下，并将活着的鹦鹉赠给新建的市博物馆。只有那时，她才感到能舒畅地呼吸。她现在住在一个她一直梦想的家里，宽敞、舒适，一切都符合自己的心意。 女儿奥费利亚陪她三个月后回到新奥尔良去了。儿子带着孩子们星期天来家里吃午餐，其它时间有空才来。费尔米纳亲近的女友们，在她最忧伤的时刻过去后，开始来她家串门，在光秃秃的院子对面玩牌，烹调和品尝新菜，让她适应没有他也照样存在的贪婪世界的隐秘生活。来得最经常的女友之一是鲁克雷希哑，这是一个守旧的贵族，费尔米纳一直跟她很好。自乌尔比诺死后，她对费尔米纳更加亲近。 被关节炎弄得身体僵硬和对自己放荡生活感到懊丧的鲁克雷希姬，不仅是她当时最好的伴侣，而且还时常向她询问有关本城正在酝酿的城建规划的有关问题。这使她感到自己还是有用的，而不是凭借丈夫的影子自己才受人敬重。然而，人们从来没有象此时那样把她与她丈夫紧紧联系在一起，因为他们不再象往常那样称呼她婚前的名字费尔米纳?达萨，而开始叫她乌尔比诺的遗媒了。 She felt incredible.但是随着丈夫逝世一周年的临近，她觉得自己渐渐地进人一种舒服、清新、安静的环境之中——无可非议的风景优美的地方。当时她还不十分清楚，后来几年中也没有很好地意识到，阿里萨写在信中的见解，对她恢复精神的平静帮了多大的忙。正是这些与她的经历相符的见解，使得她理解了自己的一生，去平静地迎接老年面临的一切。纪念弥撒上的相遇是一次意外机会，阿里萨从此知道，由于他那些鼓励性的信，她也准备忘却过去。