The Sisters

——James Joyce

詹姆斯·乔伊斯(James Joyce, 1882-1941)是20世纪最富有独创性、影响巨大的作家。他生于爱尔兰首都都柏林，一生颠沛流离，辗转于的里雅斯特、罗马、巴黎等地，多以教授英语和为报刊撰稿糊口，又饱受眼疾折磨，到晚年几乎完全失明;但他对文学矢志不渝，勤奋写作，终成一代巨匠。代表作为自传体小说《青年艺术家的肖像》和长篇小说《尤利西斯》。

THERE was no hope for him this time: it was the third stroke. Night after night I had passed the house (it was vacation time) and studied the lighted square of window: and night after night I had found it lighted in the same way, faintly and evenly. If he was dead, I thought, I would see the reflection of candles on the darkened blind for I knew that two candles must be set at the head of a corpse. He had often said to me: "I am not long for this world," and I had thought his words idle. Now I knew they were true. Every night as I gazed up at the window I said softly to myself the word paralysis. It had always sounded strangely in my ears, like the word gnomon in the Euclid and the word simony in the Catechism. But now it sounded to me like the name of some maleficent and sinful being. It filled me with fear, and yet I longed to be nearer to it and to look upon its deadly work.

Old Cotter was sitting at the fire, smoking, when I came downstairs to supper. While my aunt was ladling out my stirabout he said, as if returning to some former remark of his:

"No, I wouldn’t say he was exactly... but there was something queer... there was something uncanny about him. I’ll tell you my opinion...."

He began to puff at his pipe, no doubt arranging his opinion in his mind. Tiresome old fool! When we knew him first he used to be rather interesting, talking of faints and worms; but I soon grew tired of him and his endless stories about the distillery.

"I have my own theory about it," he said. "I think it was one of those ... peculiar cases .... But it’s hard to say...."

He began to puff again at his pipe without giving us his theory. My uncle saw me staring and said to me:

"Well, so your old friend is gone, you’ll be sorry to hear."