انگلیسی: آموزش، زبانشناسی، ترجمه، ادبیات

^{زندگي نامه :}

^{احمد شاملو در بيست و يكم آذر سال 1304 در خانه 134 خيابان صفي علي شاه تهران متولد شد. پدرش حيدر و مادرش كوكب عراقي بود. به دليل اينكه پدرش افسر ارتش بود و از اين شهر به آن شهر اعزام مي شد , شاملو هرگز نتوانست همراه خانواده براي مدتي در شهري ماندگار شود و تحصيلات مرتبي داشته باشد در سال 1322 براي اولين بار پايش به زندان هاي متفقين باز شد , اين در حقيقت نيز تير خلاصي بود به تحصيلات نامرتب او.}

^{شاملو در سال 1326 نخستين مجموعه شعرش را به نام "آهنگ هاي فراموش شده" منتشر كرد. "آهنگ هاي فراموش شده" مجموعه اي ناهمگون از شعر هاي كاملا سنتي تا اشعار نيمايي شاملو بود , حتي نوشته هاي كاملا بي وزن,قافيه و آهنگ كه بعد ها به نام شعر منثور يا شعر سپيد شهرت يافت در آن ديده مي شود. انتشار اين مجموعه ها در دنياي شاعري شاملو اهميت چنداني نداشت و همچنان كه خود او در مقدمه كتاب پيش بيني كرده بود كه اين نوشته هاي منظوم و منثور آهنگ هايي بود كه زود به دست فراموشي سپرده شد. اما اين مجموعه به جهت آنكه حاوي نخستين نمونه هاي شعر سپيد فارسي است نشر آن در اين سال قابل توجه است.}

^{شاملو از انتشار اين كتاب و عدم استقبالش افسرده نشده و به كار ترجمه و فعاليت هاي ادبي در نشريات ادامه داد. در سال 1330 او مجموعه شعر "قطعنامه" و شعر بلند "23" را منتشر كرد. اين مجموعه حاوي 4 شعر بلند بود كه نشان مي داد , شاملو با عبور از شيوه نيمايي براي خود راه تازه اي مي جويد كه خود نيما و پيروان راستين او هرگز علاقه چنداني به آن نشان ندادند.}

^{پس از اين مجموعه "شعر آهن ها و احساس ها" را منتشر ساخت. در اين دوره شاملو به مدت يكسال در زندان به سر مي برد كه پس از آزادي به فعاليت هاي ادبي و فرهنگي خود ادامه مي دهد و تا آخرين روز هاي زندگي دست از كار نمي كشد. شاملو پس از يك دوره ترديد و نوسان ميان غزل و شعر اجتماعي سر انجام راه خود را برگزيده و در مسيري قرار گرفت كه به عنوان يكي از برجسته ترين شاگردان نيما كه راه جديدي را در عرصه شعر و شاعري ايجاد كرده است به شمار مي رود. او از شعر شاعران جهان تاثير پذيرفت و خود نيز بسياري از اشعار شاعران جهان را به فارسي برگرداند و يا به گونه اي باز سرايي كرد كه بي گمان بسياري از باز سرايي هاي شاملو از اصل شعنيز بهتر و رساتر شده اند. او تاريخ ادبيات كهن را به خوبي مي شناخت,البته شايد درباره بعضي از اظهار نظر هايي كه درباره شاعران كرده است دچار اشتباه شده است , اما توانايي او در شعر كلاسيك غير قابل انكار است. حاصل آشنايي او با ادبيات كلاسيك , تصحيح و روايت از "افسانه هاي هفت گنبد" , "رباعيات ابو سعيد ابوالخير" , "خيام" و "حافظ شيرازي" است.آشنايي او با ادبيات جهان ترجمه آثاري چون نمايشنامه "عروس خون" , "افسانه هاي چيني" , "اشعار لوركا" , "رمان پا برهنه ها" , "سي زيف و مرگ" , "غزل غزل هاي سليمان" , "مفت خوره ها" , "شهريار كوچولو" و ... "دن آرام" كه بي شك شاهكار او بشمار مي رود. شاملو "دن آرام" را ظرف مناسب براي كتاب كوچه يافت و در اين كتاب دست به تجربه هاي جديدي در عرصه ترجمه زد. اگر شاملو اعر هم نبود , تنها با اين ترجمه بي نظير در تاريخ ادبيات ايران نامش ماندگار مي ماند.}

^{شاملو پس از انتشار مجموعه هاي "باغ آينه (1338) , آيدا در آينه (1343) , آيدا درخت و خنجر و خاطره (1334) ققنوس در باران (1354) مرثيه هاي خاك (1348) شكفتن در مه (1349) ابراهيم در آتش (1352) و دشنه در ديس (1356) " در زبان به ديگاهي كاملا مستقل ذست يافت و موقعيت و جايگاه ممتازي ميان شاعران نوپرداز و تحصيل كردگان متمايل به غرب پيدا كرد . ويژگي عمده شعر هاي او از لحاظ محتوا نوعي تفكر فلسفي-اجتماعي است و از طريق تمثيل نماد و اسطوره هاي غربي و انساني بيان مي شود , به ويژه اينكه او در خلال اشعار اشاره هاي روشني به نماد مسيحيت درد كه شعر او از اين جهت نيز متمايز مي شود.}

^{شاملو و آيدا (همسر دوم شاملو)}

^{آزادي اغلب شعر هاي او از هر نوع قيد اعم از وزن و قافيه به شيوه هاي سنتي ويژگي عمده اي است كه در شعر نو ايران سابقه چنداني ندارد. به نظر مي رسد كه آهنگ سخن او گاه به نثر هاي سده چهارم و پنجم و زبان ترجمه هاي تورات و انجيل نزديك مي شود , در همين راستا ناقدان از تاثير آشكار نثر بيهقي بر شعر شاملو غافل نمانده اند. شعر شاملو از نظر بيان , فرم و پرداخت ادبي , استفاده مبتكرانه از عناصر ادبي و زباني بسيار حائز اهميت است و از جهات مختلف قابل بحث و بررسي است.}

^{از راست به چپ: هوشنگ ابتهاج، سياوش كسرايي،نيما يوشيج، احمد شاملو، مرتضي كيوان}

^{شاملو با يك عمر پايمردي و تلاش در عرصه فرهنگ و ادب ايران و جهان بالاخره در بامداد يكشنبه دوم مرداد ماه 1379 ديده از جهان فرو بست.}

^{۴ اثر از احمد شاملو :}

^{كاشفان فروتن شوكران نگراني هاي يك شاعر}

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^{مقدمه ي حافظ شيراز پريا (از مجموعه هواي تازه)}

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منبع: سایت ایرانیان انگلستان

Guillotining Gaza

Noam Chomsky

July 30, 2007

The death of a nation is a rare and somber event. But the vision of a unified, independent Palestine threatens to be another casualty of a Hamas-Fatah civil war, stoked by Israel and its enabling ally the United States.

Last month’s chaos may mark the beginning of the end of the Palestinian Authority. That might not be an altogether unfortunate development for Palestinians, given US-Israeli programmes of rendering it nothing more than a quisling regime to oversee these allies’ utter rejection of an independent state.

The events in Gaza took place in a developing context. In January 2006, Palestinians voted in a carefully monitored election, pronounced to be free and fair by international observers, despite US-Israeli efforts to swing the election towards their favourite, Palestinian Authority President Mahmoud Abbas and his Fatah party. But Hamas won a surprising victory.

The punishment of Palestinians for the crime of voting the wrong way was severe. With US backing, Israel stepped up its violence in Gaza, withheld funds it was legally obligated to transmit to the Palestinian Authority, tightened its siege and even cut off the flow of water to the arid Gaza Strip.

The United States and Israel made sure that Hamas would not have a chance to govern. They rejected Hamas’s call for a long-term cease-fire to allow for negotiations on a two-state settlement, along the lines of an international consensus that Israel and United States have opposed, in virtual isolation, for more than 30 years, with rare and temporary departures.

Meanwhile, Israel stepped up its programmes of annexation, dismemberment and imprisonment of the shrinking Palestinian cantons in the West Bank, always with US backing despite occasional minor complaints, accompanied by the wink of an eye and munificent funding.

Powers-that-be have a standard operating procedure for overthrowing an unwanted government: Arm the military to prepare for a coup. Israel and its US ally helped arm and train Fatah to win by force what it lost at the ballot box. The United States also encouraged Abbas to amass power in his own hands, appropriate behaviour in the eyes of Bush administration advocates of presidential dictatorship.

The strategy backfired. Despite the military aid, Fatah forces in Gaza were defeated last month in a vicious conflict, which many close observers describe as a pre-emptive strike targeting primarily the security forces of the brutal Fatah strongman Mohammed Dahlan. Israel and the United States quickly moved to turn the outcome to their benefit. They now have a pretext for tightening the stranglehold on the people of Gaza.

‘To persist with such an approach under present circumstances is indeed genocidal, and risks destroying an entire Palestinian community that is an integral part of an ethnic whole,’ writes international law scholar Richard Falk.

This worst-case scenario may unfold unless Hamas meets the three conditions imposed by the ‘international community’ — a technical term referring to the US government and whoever goes along with it. For Palestinians to be permitted to peek out of the walls of their Gaza dungeon, Hamas must recognise Israel, renounce violence and accept past agreements, in particular, the Road Map of the Quartet (the United States, Russia, the European Union and the United Nations).

The hypocrisy is stunning. Obviously, the United States and Israel do not recognise Palestine or renounce violence. Nor do they accept past agreements. While Israel formally accepted the Road Map, it attached 14 reservations that eviscerate it. To take just the first, Israel demanded that for the process to commence and continue, the Palestinians must ensure full quiet, education for peace, cessation of incitement, dismantling of Hamas and other organisations, and other conditions; and even if they were to satisfy this virtually impossible demand, the Israeli cabinet proclaimed that ‘the Roadmap will not state that Israel must cease violence and incitement against the Palestinians.’

Israel’s rejection of the Road Map, with US support, is unacceptable to the Western self-image, so it has been suppressed. The facts finally broke into the mainstream with Jimmy Carter’s book, ‘Palestine: Peace not Apartheid,’ which elicited a torrent of abuse and desperate efforts to discredit it.

While now in a position to crush Gaza, Israel can also proceed, with US backing, to implement its plans in the West Bank, expecting to have the tacit cooperation of Fatah leaders who will be rewarded for their capitulation. Among other steps, Israel began to release the funds — estimated at $600 million — that it had illegally frozen in reaction to the January 2006 election.

Ex-prime minister Tony Blair is now to ride to the rescue. To Lebanese political analyst Rami Khouri, ‘appointing Tony Blair as special envoy for Arab-Israeli peace is something like appointing the Emperor Nero to be the chief fireman of Rome.’ Blair is the Quartet’s envoy only in name. The Bush administration made it clear at once that he is Washington’s envoy, with a very limited mandate. Secretary of State Rice (and President Bush) retain unilateral control over the important issues, while Blair would be permitted to deal only with problems of institution-building.

As for the short-term future, the best case would be a two-state settlement, per the international consensus. That is still by no means impossible. It is supported by virtually the entire world, including the majority of the US population. It has come rather close, once, during the last month of Bill Clinton’s presidency — the sole meaningful US departure from extreme rejectionism during the past 30 years. In January 2001, the United States lent its support to the negotiations in Taba, Egypt, that nearly achieved such a settlement before they were called off by Israeli Prime Minister Ehud Barak.

In their final Press conference, the Taba negotiators expressed hope that if they had been permitted to continue their joint work, a settlement could have been reached. The years since have seen many horrors, but the possibility remains. As for the likeliest scenario, it looks unpleasantly close to the worst case, but human affairs are not predictable: Too much depends on will and choice.

Cold War II

Noam Chomsky

August 27, 2007

These are exciting days in Washington, as the government directs its energies to the demanding task of “containing Iran” in what Washington Post correspondent Robin Wright, joining others, calls “Cold War II.” [1]

During Cold War I, the task was to contain two awesome forces. The lesser and more moderate force was “an implacable enemy whose avowed objective is world domination by whatever means and at whatever cost.” Hence “if the United States is to survive,” it will have to adopt a “repugnant philosophy” and reject “acceptable norms of human conduct” and the “long-standing American concepts of `fair play’” that had been exhibited with such searing clarity in the conquest of the national territory, the Philippines, Haiti and other beneficiaries of “the idealistic new world bent on ending inhumanity,” as the newspaper of record describes our noble mission. [2] The judgments about the nature of the super-Hitler and the necessary response are those of General Jimmy Doolittle, in a critical assessment of the CIA commissioned by President Eisenhower in 1954. They are quite consistent with those of the Truman administration liberals, the “wise men” who were “present at the creation,” notoriously in NSC 68 but in fact quite consistently.

In the face of the Kremlin’s unbridled aggression in every corner of the world, it is perhaps understandable that the US resisted in defense of human values with a savage display of torture, terror, subversion and violence while doing “everything in its power to alter or abolish any regime not openly allied with America,” as Tim Weiner summarizes the doctrine of the Eisenhower administration in his recent history of the CIA. [3] And just as the Truman liberals easily matched their successors in fevered rhetoric about the implacable enemy and its campaign to rule the world, so did John F. Kennedy, who bitterly condemned the “monolithic and ruthless conspiracy,” and dismissed the proposal of its leader (Khrushchev) for sharp mutual cuts in offensive weaponry, then reacted to his unilateral implementation of these proposals with a huge military build-up. The Kennedy brothers also quickly surpassed Eisenhower in violence and terror, as they “unleashed covert action with an unprecedented intensity” (Wiener), doubling Eisenhower’s annual record of major CIA covert operations, with horrendous consequences worldwide, even a close brush with terminal nuclear war. [4]

But at least it was possible to deal with Russia, unlike the fiercer enemy, China. The more thoughtful scholars recognized that Russia was poised uneasily between civilization and barbarism. As Henry Kissinger later explained in his academic essays, only the West has undergone the Newtonian revolution and is therefore “deeply committed to the notion that the real world is external to the observer,” while the rest still believe “that the real world is almost completely internal to the observer,” the “basic division” that is “the deepest problem of the contemporary international order.” But Russia, unlike third word peasants who think that rain and sun are inside their heads, was perhaps coming to the realization that the world is not just a dream, Kissinger felt.

Not so the still more savage and bloodthirsty enemy, China, which for liberal Democrat intellectuals at various times rampaged as a “a Slavic Manchukuo,” a blind puppet of its Kremlin master, or a monster utterly unconstrained as it pursued its crazed campaign to crush the world in its tentacles, or whatever else circumstances demanded. The remarkable tale of doctrinal fanaticism from the 1940s to the ‘70s, which makes contemporary rhetoric seem rather moderate, is reviewed by James Peck in his highly revealing study of the national security culture, Washington’s China.

In later years, there were attempts to mimic the valiant deeds of the defenders of virtue from the two villainous global conquerors and their loyal slaves – for example, when the Gipper strapped on his cowboy boots and declared a National Emergency because Nicaraguan hordes were only two days from Harlingen Texas, though as he courageously informed the press, despite the tremendous odds “I refuse to give up. I remember a man named Winston Churchill who said, `Never give in. Never, never, never.’ So we won't.” With consequences that need not be reviewed.

Even with the best of efforts, however, the attempts never were able to recapture the glorious days of Cold War I. But now, at last, those heights might be within reach, as another implacable enemy bent on world conquest has arisen, which we must contain before it destroys us all: Iran.

Perhaps it's a lift to the spirits to be able to recover those heady Cold War days when at least there was a legitimate force to contain, however dubious the pretexts and disgraceful the means. But it is instructive to take a closer look at the contours of Cold War II as they are being designed by “the former Kremlinologists now running U.S. foreign policy, such as Rice and Gates” (Wright).

The task of containment is to establish “a bulwark against Iran’s growing influence in the Middle East,” Mark Mazzetti and Helene Cooper explain in the New York Times (July 31). To contain Iran’s influence we must surround Iran with US and NATO ground forces, along with massive naval deployments in the Persian Gulf and of course incomparable air power and weapons of mass destruction. And we must provide a huge flow of arms to what Condoleezza Rice calls “the forces of moderation and reform” in the region, the brutal tyrannies of Egypt and Saudi Arabia and, with particular munificence, Israel, by now virtually an adjunct of the militarized high-tech US economy. All to contain Iran’s influence. A daunting challenge indeed.

And daunting it is. In Iraq, Iranian support is welcomed by much of the majority Shi’ite population. In an August visit to Teheran, Iraqi Prime Minister Nouri al-Maliki met with the supreme leader Ali Khamenei, President Ahmadinejad and other senior officials, and thanked Tehran for its “positive and constructive” role in improving security in Iraq, eliciting a sharp reprimand from President Bush, who “declares Teheran a regional peril and asserts the Iraqi leader must understand,” to quote the headline of the Los Angeles Times report on al-Maliki’s intellectual deficiencies. A few days before, also greatly to Bush’s discomfiture, Afghan President Hamid Karzai, Washington’s favorite, described Iran as “a helper and a solution” in his country. [5] Similar problems abound beyond Iran’s immediate neighbors. In Lebanon, according to polls, most Lebanese see Iranian-backed Hezbollah “as a legitimate force defending their country from Israel,” Wright reports. And in Palestine, Iranian-backed Hamas won a free election, eliciting savage punishment of the Palestinian population by the US and Israel for the crime of voting “the wrong way,” another episode in “democracy promotion.”

But no matter. The aim of US militancy and the arms flow to the moderates is to counter “what everyone in the region believes is a flexing of muscles by a more aggressive Iran,” according to an unnamed senior U.S. government official – “everyone” being the technical term used to refer to Washington and its more loyal clients. [6] Iran's aggression consists in its being welcomed by many within the region, and allegedly supporting resistance to the US occupation of neighboring Iraq.

It’s likely, though little discussed, that a prime concern about Iran’s influence is to the East, where in mid-August “Russia and China today host Iran's President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad at a summit of a Central Asian security club designed to counter U.S. influence in the region,” the business press reports. [7] The “security club” is the Shanghai Cooperation Organization (SCO), which has been slowly taking shape in recent years. Its membership includes not only the two giants Russia and China, but also the energy-rich Central Asian states Kyrgyzstan, Uzbekistan, Kazakhstan and Tajikistan. Hamid Karzai of Afghanistan was a guest of honor at the August meeting. “In another unwelcome development for the Americans, Turkmenistan's President Gurbanguly Berdymukhammedov also accepted an invitation to attend the summit,” another step its improvement of relations with Russia, particularly in energy, reversing a long-standing policy of isolation from Russia. “Russia in May secured a deal to build a new pipeline to import more gas from Turkmenistan, bolstering its dominant hold on supplies to Europe and heading off a competing U.S.-backed plan that would bypass Russian territory.”[8]

Along with Iran, there are three other official observer states: India, Pakistan and Mongolia. Washington’s request for similar status was denied. In 2005 the SCO called for a timetable for termination of any US military presence in Central Asia. The participants at the August meeting flew to the Urals to attend the first joint Russia-China military exercises on Russian soil.

Association of Iran with the SCO extends its inroads into the Middle East, where China has been increasing trade and other relations with the jewel in the crown, Saudi Arabia. There is an oppressed Shi’ite population in Saudi Arabia that is also susceptible to Iran’s influence – and happens to sit on most of Saudi oil. About 40% of Middle East oil is reported to be heading East, not West. [9] As the flow Eastward increases, US control declines over this lever of world domination, a “stupendous source of strategic power,” as the State Department described Saudi oil 60 years ago.

In Cold War I, the Kremlin had imposed an iron curtain and built the Berlin Wall to contain Western influence. In Cold War II, Wright reports, the former Kremlinologists framing policy are imposing a “green curtain” to bar Iranian influence. In short, government-media doctrine is that the Iranian threat is rather similar to the Western threat that the Kremlin sought to contain, and the US is eagerly taking on the Kremlin’s role in the thrilling “new Cold War.”

All of this is presented without noticeable concern. Nevertheless, the recognition that the US government is modeling itself on Stalin and his successors in the new Cold War must be arousing at least some flickers of embarrassment. Perhaps that is how we can explain the ferocious Washington Post editorial announcing that Iran has escalated its aggressiveness to a Hot War: “the Revolutionary Guard, a radical state within Iran's Islamic state, is waging war against the United States and trying to kill as many American soldiers as possible.” The US must therefore “fight back,” the editors thunder, finding quite “puzzling...the murmurs of disapproval from European diplomats and others who say they favor using diplomacy and economic pressure, rather than military action, to rein in Iran,” even in the face of its outright aggression. The evidence that Iran is waging war against the US is now conclusive. After all, it comes from an administration that has never deceived the American people, even improving on the famous stellar honesty of its predecessors.

Suppose that for once Washington’s charges happen to be true, and Iran really is providing Shi’ite militias with roadside bombs that kill American forces, perhaps even making use of the some of the advanced weaponry lavishly provided to the Revolutionary Guard by Ronald Reagan in order to fund the illegal war against Nicaragua, under the pretext of arms for hostages (the number of hostages tripled during these endeavors). [10] If the charges are true, then Iran could properly be charged with a minuscule fraction of the iniquity of the Reagan administration, which provided Stinger missiles and other high-tech military aid to the “insurgents” seeking to disrupt Soviet efforts to bring stability and justice to Afghanistan, as they saw it. Perhaps Iran is even guilty of some of the crimes of the Roosevelt administration, which assisted terrorist partisans attacking peaceful and sovereign Vichy France in 1940-41, and had thus declared war on Germany even before Pearl Harbor.

One can pursue these questions further. The CIA station chief in Pakistan in 1981, Howard Hart, reports that “I was the first chief of station ever sent abroad with this wonderful order: `Go kill Soviet soldiers’. Imagine! I loved it.” Of course “the mission was not to liberate Afghanistan,” Tim Wiener writes in his history of the CIA, repeating the obvious. But “it was a noble goal,” he writes. Killing Russians with no concern for the fate of Afghans is a “noble goal.” But support for resistance to a US invasion and occupation would be a vile act and declaration of war.

Without irony, the Bush administration and the media charge that Iran is “meddling” in Iraq, otherwise presumably free from foreign interference. The evidence is partly technical. Do the serial numbers on the Improvised Explosive Devices really trace back to Iran? If so, does the leadership of Iran know about the IEDs, or only the Iranian Revolutionary Guard. Settling the debate, the White House plans to brand the Revolutionary Guard as a “specially designated global terrorist” force, an unprecedented action against a national military branch, authorizing Washington to undertake a wide range of punitive actions. Watching in disbelief, much of the world asks whether the US military, invading and occupying Iran’s neighbors, might better merit this charge -- or its Israeli client, now about to receive a huge increase in military aid to commemorate 40 years of harsh occupation and illegal settlement, and its fifth invasion of Lebanon a year ago.

It is instructive that Washington’s propaganda framework is reflexively accepted, apparently without notice, in US and other Western commentary and reporting, apart from the marginal fringe of what is called ‘the loony left.” What is considered “criticism” is skepticism as to whether all of Washington’s charges about Iranian aggression in Iraq are true. It might be an interesting research project to see how closely the propaganda of Russia, Nazi Germany, and other aggressors and occupiers matched the standards of today’s liberal press and commentators..

The comparisons are of course unfair. Unlike German and Russian occupiers, American forces are in Iraq by right, on the principle, too obvious even to enunciate, that the US owns the world. Therefore, as a matter of elementary logic, the US cannot invade and occupy another country. The US can only defend and liberate others. No other category exists. Predecessors, including the most monstrous, have commonly sworn by the same principle, but again there is an obvious difference: they were Wrong, and we are Right. QED.

Another comparison comes to mind, which is studiously ignored when we are sternly admonished of the ominous consequences that might follow withdrawal of US troops from Iraq. The preferred analogy is Indochina, highlighted in a shameful speech by the President on August 22. That analogy can perhaps pass muster among those who have succeeded in effacing from their minds the record of US actions in Indochina, including the destruction of much of Vietnam and the murderous bombing of Laos and Cambodia as the US began its withdrawal from the wreckage of South Vietnam. In Cambodia, the bombing was in accord with Kissinger’s genocidal orders: “anything that flies on anything that moves” – actions that drove “an enraged populace into the arms of an insurgency [the Khmer Rouge] that had enjoyed relatively little support before the Kissinger-Nixon bombing was inaugurated,” as Cambodia specialists Owen Taylor and Ben Kiernan observe in a highly important study that passed virtually without notice, in which they reveal that the bombing was five times the incredible level reported earlier, greater than all allied bombing in World War II. Completely suppressing all relevant facts, it is then possible for the President and many commentators to present Khmer Rouge crimes as a justification for continuing to devastate Iraq.

But although the grotesque Indochina analogy receives much attention, the obvious analogy is ignored: the Russian withdrawal from Afghanistan, which, as Soviet analysts predicted, led to shocking violence and destruction as the country was taken over by Reagan's favorites, who amused themselves by such acts as throwing acid in the faces of women in Kabul they regarded as too liberated, and then virtually destroyed the city and much else, creating such havoc and terror that the population actually welcomed the Taliban. That analogy could indeed be invoked without utter absurdity by advocates of “staying the course,” but evidently it is best forgotten.

Under the heading “Secretary Rice’s Mideast mission: contain Iran,” the press reports Rice’s warning that Iran is “the single most important single-country challenge to...US interests in the Middle East.” That is a reasonable judgment. Given the long-standing principle that Washington must do “everything in its power to alter or abolish any regime not openly allied with America,” Iran does pose a unique challenge, and it is natural that the task of containing Iranian influence should be a high priority.

As elsewhere, Bush administration rhetoric is relatively mild in this case. For the Kennedy administration, “Latin America was the most dangerous area in the world” when there was a threat that the progressive Cheddi Jagan might win a free election in British Guiana, overturned by CIA shenanigans that handed the country over to the thuggish racist Forbes Burnham. [11] A few years earlier, Iraq was “the most dangerous place in the world” (CIA director Allen Dulles) after General Abdel Karim Qassim broke the Anglo-American condominium over Middle East oil, overthrowing the pro-US monarchy, which had been heavily infiltrated by the CIA. [12] A primary concern was that Qassim might join Nasser, then the supreme Middle East devil, in using the incomparable energy resources of the Middle East for the domestic. The issue for Washington was not so much access as control. At the time and for many years after, Washington was purposely exhausting domestic oil resources in the interests of “national security,” meaning security for the profits of Texas oil men, like the failed entrepreneur who now sits in the Oval Office. But as high-level planner George Kennan had explained well before, we cannot relax our guard when there is any interference with “protection of our resources” (which accidentally happen to be somewhere else).

Unquestionably, Iran's government merits harsh condemnation, though it has not engaged in worldwide terror, subversion, and aggression, following the US model – which extends to today’s Iran as well, if ABC news is correct in reporting that the US is supporting Pakistan-based Jundullah, which is carrying out terrorist acts inside Iran. [13] The sole act of aggression attributed to Iran is the conquest of two small islands in the Gulf – under Washington’s close ally the Shah. In addition to internal repression – heightened, as Iranian dissidents regularly protest, by US militancy -- the prospect that Iran might develop nuclear weapons also is deeply troubling. Though Iran has every right to develop nuclear energy, no one – including the majority of Iranians – wants it to have nuclear weapons. That would add to the threat to survival posed much more seriously by its near neighbors Pakistan, India, and Israel, all nuclear armed with the blessing of the US, which most of the world regards as the leading threat to world peace, for evident reasons.

Iran rejects US control of the Middle East, challenging fundamental policy doctrine, but it hardly poses a military threat. On the contrary, it has been the victim of outside powers for years: in recent memory, when the US and Britain overthrew its parliamentary government and installed a brutal tyrant in 1953, and when the US supported Saddam Hussein’s murderous invasion, slaughtering hundreds of thousands of Iranians, many with chemical weapons, without the “international community” lifting a finger – something that Iranians do not forget as easily as the perpetrators. And then under severe sanctions as a punishment for disobedience.

Israel regards Iran as a threat. Israel seeks to dominate the region with no interference, and Iran might be some slight counterbalance, while also supporting domestic forces that do not bend to Israel’s will. It may, however, be useful to bear in mind that Hamas has accepted the international consensus on a two-state settlement on the international border, and Hezbollah, along with Iran, has made clear that it would accept any outcome approved by Palestinians, leaving the US and Israel isolated in their traditional rejectionism. [14]

But Iran is hardly a military threat to Israel. And whatever threat there might be could be overcome if the US would accept the view of the great majority of its own citizens and of Iranians and permit the Middle East to become a nuclear-weapons free zone, including Iran and Israel, and US forces deployed there. One may also recall that UN Security Council Resolution 687 of 3 April 1991, to which Washington appeals when convenient, calls for “establishing in the Middle East a zone free from weapons of mass destruction and all missiles for their delivery.”

It is widely recognized that use of military force in Iran would risk blowing up the entire region, with untold consequences beyond. We know from polls that in the surrounding countries, where the Iranian government is hardly popular -- Turkey, Saudi Arabia, Pakistan -- nevertheless large majorities prefer even a nuclear-armed Iran to any form of military action against it.

The rhetoric about Iran has escalated to the point where both political parties and practically the whole US press accept it as legitimate and, in fact, honorable, that “all options are on the table,” to quote Hillary Clinton and everybody else, possibly even nuclear weapons. “All options on the table” means that Washington threatens war.

The UN Charter outlaws “the threat or use of force.” The United States, which has chosen to become an outlaw state, disregards international laws and norms. We're allowed to threaten anybody we want -- and to attack anyone we choose.

Washington's feverish new Cold War "containment" policy has spread to Europe. Washington intends to install a “missile defense system” in the Czech Republic and Poland, marketed to Europe as a shield against Iranian missiles. Even if Iran had nuclear weapons and long-range missiles, the chances of its using them to attack Europe are perhaps on a par with the chances of Europe's being hit by an asteroid, so perhaps Europe would do as well to invest in an asteroid defense system. Furthermore, if Iran were to indicate the slightest intention of aiming a missile at Europe or Israel, the country would be vaporized.

Of course, Russian planners are gravely upset by the shield proposal. We can imagine how the US would respond if a Russian anti-missile system were erected in Canada. The Russians have good reason to regard an anti-missile system as part of a first-strike weapon against them. It is generally understood that such a system could never block a first strike, but it could conceivably impede a retaliatory strike. On all sides, “missile defense” is therefore understood to be a first-strike weapon, eliminating a deterrent to attack. And a small initial installation in Eastern Europe could easily be a base for later expansion. Even more obviously, the only military function of such a system with regard to Iran, the declared aim, would be to bar an Iranian deterrent to US or Israel aggression.

Not surprisingly, in reaction to the “missile defense” plans, Russia has resorted to its own dangerous gestures, including the recent decision to renew long-range patrols by nuclear-capable bombers after a 15-year hiatus, in one recent case near the US military base on Guam. These actions reflect Russia’s anger “over what it has called American and NATO aggressiveness, including plans for a missile-defense system in the Czech Republic and Poland, analysts said” (Andrew Kramer, NYT). [15]

The shield ratchets the threat of war a few notches higher, in the Middle East and elsewhere, with incalculable consequences, and the potential for a terminal nuclear war. The immediate fear is that by accident or design, Washington's war planners or their Israeli surrogate might decide to escalate their Cold War II into a hot one – in this case a real hot war.

[1] Wright, WP, July 29 07
[2] Correspondent Michael Wines, NYT, June 13, 1999. Doolittle report, Tim Weiner, Legacy of Ashes: the History of the CIA, Doubleday 2007
[3] Ibid., 77.
[4] Ibid., 180.
[5] Paul Richter, LAT, Aug. 10, 2007. Karzai, CNN, Aug. 5, 2007.

[6] Robin Wright, “U.S. Plans New Arms Sales to Gulf Allies,” WP, July 28, 2007.
[7] Henry Meyer, Bloomberg, Aug. 16, 2007.
[8] Ibid.
[9] Hiro
[10] Weiner
[11] Schmitz, Weiner.
[12] Weiner. Failed States.
[13] Brian Ross and Christopher Isham, “ABC News Exclusive: The Secret War Against Iran,” April 3, 2007; Ross and Richard Esposito, ABC, “Bush Authorizes New Covert Action Against Iran,” May 22, 2007.
[14] On Iran, see Gilbert Achcar, Noam Chomsky, and Stephen Shalom, Perilous Power (Paradigm, 2007), and Ervand Abrahamian, in David Barsamian, ed., Targeting Iran (City Lights, 2007). On Hamas, among many similar statements see the article by Hamas’s most militant leader, Khalid Mish'al, "Our unity can now pave the way for peace and justice," Guardian, February 13, 2007. Hezbollah leader Hassan Nasrallah has repeatedly taken the same position. See among others Irene Gendzier, Assaf Kfoury, and Fawwaz Traboulsi, eds., Inside Lebanon (Monthly Review, 2007).
[15] Kramer, “Recalling Cold War, Russia Resumes Long-Range Sorties,” Aug. 18, 2007.

Chamsky's Articles PDF

The Evolution of the Language Faculty. (with W. Tecumseh Fitch & Marc D. Hauser) Cognition. September, 2005.

The Manipulation of Fear. Tehelka. July 16, 2005.

Simple Truths, Hard Problems. Philosophy. January, 2005.

Moral Truisms, Empirical Evidence, and Foreign Policy. Review of International Studies. October, 2003.

The Faculty of Language. (with M. D. Hauser & W. T. Fitch) Science. November 22, 2002.

Linguistics and Brain Science. In A. Marantz, Y. Miyashita and W. O’Neil (eds.) Image, Language and Brain. 2000.

Visions of Righteousness. Cultural Critique. Spring, 1986.

Philosophers and Public Philosophy. Philosophy and Public Affairs. October, 1968.

Three Models for the Description of Language. IRE Transactions on Information Theory. September, 1956.

Logical Syntax and Semantics. Language. January-March, 1955.

Systems of Syntactic Analysis. The Journal of Symbolic Logic. September, 1953.

Noam Chomsky

by Zoltán Gendler Szabó

In Ernest LePore (ed.), Dictionary of Modern American Philosophers, 1860-1960, Bristol, 2004

Noam Chomsky was born to Dr. William (Zev) Chomsky and Elsie Simonofsky in Philadelphia on December 7, 1928. His father emigrated to the United States from Russia. William was an eminent scholar, author of the study Hebrew, the Eternal Language (1957), as well as numerous other works on the history and teaching of Hebrew. Noam entered the University of Pennsylvania in 1945. There he came in contact with Zelig Harris, a prominent linguist and the founder of the first linguistics department in the United States (at the University of Pennsylvania). In 1947 Chomsky decided to major in linguistics, and in 1949 he began his graduate studies in that field. His BA honor's thesis Morphophonemics of Modern Hebrew (1949, revised as an MA thesis in 1951) contains several ideas that foreshadow Chomsky's later work in generative grammar. In 1949 he married the linguist Carol Schatz. During the years 1951 to 1955 Chomsky was a Junior Fellow of the Harvard University Society of Fellows, where he completed his PhD dissertation entitled Transformational Analysis (1955; published as part of The Logical Structure of Linguistic Theory in 1975).

Chomsky received a faculty position at MIT in 1955 and he has been teaching there ever since. In 1961 he was appointed full professor in the Department of Modern Languages and Linguistics; the graduate program in linguistics began the same year. In 1966 he was appointed Ferrari Ward Professor of Linguistics. In 1976, the linguistics and philosophy programs at MIT were merged and the Department of Linguistics and Philosophy was created; this has been Chomsky's home department ever since.

Alongside his career as a linguist, Chomsky has been active in left-wing politics. In 1965 he organized a citizen's committee to publicize tax refusal in protest to the war in Vietnam; four years later he published his first book on politics American Power and the New Mandarins. By the 1980's he had become both the most distinguished figure of American linguistics and one of the most influential left-wing critics of American foreign policy. He has been extremely prolific as a writer: his web-site in 2003 listed 33 book publications in linguistics (broadly construed), and although the individuation of his political books is complicated, their number definitely exceeds 40. According to a 1992 tabulation of sources from the previous 12 years in the Arts and Humanities Citation Index, Chomsky was the most frequently-cited person alive, and one of the eight most frequently-cited authors of all time.

Chomsky's intellectual life had been divided between his work in linguistics and his political activism, philosophy coming as a distant third. Nonetheless, his influence among analytic philosophers has been enormous due to three factors. First, Chomsky contributed substantially to a major methodological shift in the human sciences, turning away from the prevailing empiricism of the middle of the twentieth century: behaviorism in psychology, structuralism in linguistics and positivism in philosophy. Second, his groundbreaking books on syntax (Chomsky (1957, 1965)) laid a conceptual foundation for a new, cognitivist approach to linguistics and provided philosophers with a new framework for thinking about human language and the mind. And finally, he has persistently defended his views against all takers, engaging in important debates with many of the major figures in analytic philosophy (Tyler Burge, Donald Davidson, Michael Dummett, Saul Kripke, Thomas Nagel, Hilary Putnam, Willard Van Orman Quine, John Searle, to cite a few) throughout his career.

Traditional linguistics produced recommendations about socially acceptable forms of speech, guidelines for learning hitherto unknown languages, hypotheses about the origin and development of vernaculars, and a large amount of useful data concerning their current and actual phonology, morphology, syntax and semantics. It is hard to avoid the impression that there is no unified subject matter here. Cognitive linguistics, as Chomsky conceives of it, is the study of the language faculty of individual human minds (and ultimately brains). The key observation is that having a language is a species property of homo sapiens, both in the sense that linguistic competence (what speakers of a language know in virtue of being speakers) is remarkably uniform across members of our species, and in the sense that a similar competence cannot be found among members of other species. The uniformity of linguistic competence among humans had been obscured by excessive focus on the diversity of linguistic performance of speakers (facts about their actual linguistic behavior) and on the diversity of languages spoken in the world. But, according to Chomsky, brute observation of speaker behavior is a poor guide in linguistics and underneath the apparent diversity we can discover universal principles of human languages. The lack of linguistic competence among non-human animals is obscured by the fact that some of them (e.g. bees or dolphins) have the capacity to communicate and by the limited success researchers had in teaching some of them (e.g. chimpanzees and orangutans) to understand simple verbal instructions. But existing systems of animal communication consist of a finite set of symbols, and there is no evidence that animals can acquire much more than that through instruction. Language, on the other hand, has a recursive grammar capable of generating a potentially infinite set of expressions. Although we humans do employ language for the purpose of communication (as well as for the purposes of self-expression, clarification of thoughts, constructing and strengthening social ties, and so on) Chomsky denies that communication is an inherent function of our language and in general rejects the contention that language should be studied in the context of human interactions.

To characterize what is distinctive in his way of specifying the subject matter of linguistics, Chomsky (1986) introduced the distinction between I-language and E- language. He thinks the proper subject of the study of language is the former: a natural object internal to the brain of an individual whose working is representable as a function- in-intension generating structural descriptions of (as opposed to mere strings of) expressions. I-language is to be studied in a way in which we might approach, for example, the visual system. In both cases the systems produce representations employed to facilitate thought and action, but their scientific study must abstract away from the relations these representations bear to objects in the world. (An immediate consequence of this is that semantics, insofar as it is thought to investigate language-world relations, must be an ill-conceived enterprise.) By contrast, E-language is something external to individuals, either a social object constituted by norms and conventions, or some abstract object, say, a set of sentences. The traditional notion of a language (like Bulgarian or Swahili) and the traditional notion of a dialect (like the Norfolk or the Yorkshire dialect of British English) are of no scientific use. Variations among competent speakers may be considered significant or insignificant for a variety of purposes and there is nothing systematic to be said about these classifications. Chomsky often mentions the bon mot that a language is a dialect with an army and a navy; occasionally he even expresses doubts about the very coherence of the notion of an E-language.

According to Chomsky, the language faculty is part of our biological endowment, and as such it is largely genetically determined. The chief argument for this view comes from facts about language acquisition. According to the poverty of stimulus argument, there are many aspects of the linguistic competence of adult speakers that could not have been learned on the basis of the primary linguistic data available for the child during the period of language acquisition (sentences and pseudo-sentences heard along with accompanying gestures and other situational clues). Consequently, these aspects are never learned and must be innately specified. Additional empirical evidence for innateness comes from research showing that language acquisition is remarkably fast, devoid of certain sorts of errors we would prima facie expect, and comes in characteristic stages whose order and duration seems independent of environmental factors. Chomsky's hypothesis is that language arises in the mind of the child through a realization in the brain of a language faculty, which begins in an initial state (also called Universal Grammar), goes through a series of intermediate states, and reaches a steady state, which is no longer subject to fundamental changes.

The conceptual framework of Chomsky's early work on syntax has been extremely influential among philosophers, to some extent because his distinction between deep and surface structure seemed to sit well with the tradition within analytic philosophy (going back to Russell's theory of descriptions) that the surface appearance of a sentence often masks its true structure. In Chomsky (1965), grammar is divided into two levels of representation: the deep structure generated by the recursive rules of a context-free phrase structure grammar (this is what makes the grammar generative) and the surface structure derived from the deep structure through the application of transformation rules (this is what makes it transformational). Much of the subsequent development of the theory in the 1970's can be viewed as a series of attempts to formulate constraints on both the generative and the transformational components. (An example of the former is the development of X-bar theory, which specifies a common internal structural skeleton for all phrases; an example of the latter is the proposal to reduce the available movements to the single rule ("move a"), whose applicability is then restricted by a few general constraints.) Although the details underwent considerable change by the end of the 1970's, the fundamental framework remained the same.

Starting with Chomsky (1981), however, the familiar framework was abandoned. Chomsky began to think of Universal Grammar as a system of innate principles combined with a certain number of (probably binary) parameters whose values are not genetically fixed. Language acquisition is then a process of parameter setting, and the fundamental ways in which human languages differ can be characterized in terms of the values of these parameters. In a complex system with a rich internal structure the change in a single parameter can have a wide variety of consequences proliferating in various parts of the grammar. (What is universal - pace parametric variation - according to Chomsky, is syntax. The apparent syntactic variety of human languages is the result of variations in idiosyncratic morphological features originating in the lexicon: inflectional morphemes or functional elements, such as tense and case.) This picture implies a radical methodological shift in the study of language. If the theory is on the right track, the construction of rule systems for particular languages can no longer be regarded as the central task for linguistics. Instead, the structure of any particular human language should be studied through the study of human languages in general, through uncovering the principles of Universal Grammar and through the identification of parameters whose setting accounts for linguistic variation.

(An example of an innate principle is that all grammatical operation is structure dependent; this principle rules out, for example, an operation that would move the second word of a sentence to the front, and thereby accounts for the fact that children tend not to try out sequences such as *"Of glasses water are on the table?" when they seek the interrogative counterpart of "Glasses of water are on the table." An example of an innate parameter is the head (position) parameter whose setting determines whether within a phrase the head precedes the complement, as in English, or follows it, as in Korean. Assuming the parameter is binary, the prediction is that there are no intermediate cases: Universal Grammar dictates that in a possible human language that has phrases where the head must come first there cannot be phrases where the head must come last. There are, however, polysynthetic languages, like Mohawk, where there is no fixed order. It has been hypothesized that this is due to another parameter, set one way in Mohawk and another way in English and Korean.)

Chomsky (1993, 1995) has initiated a new research program within the boundaries of the principles and parameters framework. The central idea of the minimalist program is the hypothesis that the language faculty is, in a sense, a perfect device. Representations and derivations are in fact as minimal as it is conceptually possible, given the constraints put on them by that they have to interact with the performance systems (articulatory-perceptual systems and conceptual-intentional systems). The assumption is that the derivation of sentences begins with a set of items drawn form the lexicon and the computational system then attempts to derive a pair of representations, one component of which is a phonetic form (PF) and the other the logical form (LF). Lexical items are supposed to be bundles of features, some of which are formal (e.g. tense), some phonological (e.g. that 'know' is pronounced as /no/), some semantic (e.g. that 'table' is [artifact]). They are merged one-by-one to form successively larger and larger syntactic objects. After a certain point (called spell-out) the derivation splits: semantic operations continue without any overt phonological realization to produce LF and phonological operations continue without affecting the meaning of the syntactic object.

The drive behind movement (the reason why a random array of lexical items is typically not grammatical) is the fact that certain features are uninterpretable for the conceptual-intentional system, that features can only be erased (the technical term is checked) when an appropriate pair of them stand in the right sort of structural relation to one another, and that a well-formed representation must be fully interpreted. This last principle of Universal Grammar is called the principle of full interpretation. (For example, the reason the string *"He not loves her" is ungrammatical is that the third person singular nominative features of the verb cannot be checked by the subject separated from it by 'not'. So, the relevant features of 'loves' move out of their position, carrying with them the phonetic features corresponding to '-s' as well, and attach themselves to the auxiliary 'do' appropriately related to the subject resulting in 'He does not love her'.) Movements are constrained by economy principles, which require, in effect, that they occur only as a last resort and in a manner that requires the least effort.

If anything counts as surface form in this picture, it must be the phonetic form. Everything else (including the logical form, which is not conceived of as a formula of some preferred formal language whose inferential properties match the inferential properties of the derived sentence) counts as "deep". And, as Chomsky has repeatedly emphasized, the surface grammar of philosophical analysis has no status whatsoever.

Given his characterization of language as a system of knowledge - his willingness to downplay the significance of actual performance, to emphasize the creative aspect of language use, to endorse innate principles of grammar, and to postulate structure invisible on the surface - Chomsky is rightly regarded as an heir to the rationalist tradition in the philosophy of language and mind. He himself has often emphasized his indebtedness to such a tradition, especially to the Port-Royal Grammar and to Humboldt; cf. esp. Chomsky (1966). But there are important aspects in which Chomsky's views diverge from the rationalist picture. First of all, in speaking about linguistic competence he is willing to consider a kind of knowledge that is (although innate) not based on reason. In fact, the very idea of a justification for a certain aspect of our competence seems out of place. Second, he does not think that Universal Grammar bears any interesting relation to the structure of reality. Moreover, he does not think that Universal Grammar evolved under any particular evolutionary pressure that interaction with our environment may have created. Third, given his radical internalism about language, Chomsky rejects semantic theories that are based on truth and reference and consequently require the study of language-world relations. In doing so, he forfeits a major part of the rationalist enterprise, namely, the justification of logical inference (that is, the justification of the truth-preserving character of such inferences) on the basis of the postulation of an underlying logical form.

There is a final, crucial respect in which Chomsky breaks with the rationalist tradition. Rationalism in philosophy knows no fundamental obstacle to the expansion of human knowledge; it is the empiricists who have placed special emphasis on the limits of thought by insisting that experience places severe constraints on concept formation. Being an innatist, Chomsky does not believe in empiricist constraints on thought - he advocates his own conception of limitations instead. He has often spoken of a science- forming faculty conceived along the same basic lines as the language faculty. The fundamental principles of the science-forming faculty are genetically encoded and environmental factors permit only minor variations. Just as rats seem genetically incapable of dealing with certain mazes, humans may well be barred from unlocking some of the secrets of nature. He calls questions within the scope of the science-forming faculty problems, and distinguishes them sharply from mysteries that are outside that scope. The problems of consciousness and free will may well be mysteries, according to Chomsky. Be that as it may, Chomsky advocates the pursuit of fundamental questions - whether or not they turn out to be problems - with uniform scientific vigor without any pre- or post-scientific prejudice.

Bibliography

Morphophonemics of Modern Hebrew (New York, 1979 - originally a 1951 University of Pennsylvania MA thesis, revised version of a 1949 University of Pennsylvania BA thesis).

The Logical Structure of Linguistic Theory (Chicago, 1975 - originally appeared in manuscript form in 1955).

Syntactic Structures (The Hague, 1957). "Review of Skinner's Verbal Behaviour" Language 35 (1959): 26-58. "On certain Formal Properties of Grammars" Information and Control 2 (1959): 137 - 167. Current Issues in Linguistic Theory (The Hague, 1964). Aspects of the Theory of Syntax (Cambridge, Mass., 1965). Cartesian Linguistics (New York, 1966).

"Recent Contributions to the Theory of Innate Ideas" Synthese 17 (1967): 2-11.

Sound Pattern of English. (with Morris Halle) (New York, 1968). "Quine's Empirical Assumptions" in Words and Objections: Essays on the Work of W. V.

Quine, eds. D. Davidson and J. Hintikka (Dordrecht, 1969), pp. 53-68.

"Remarks on Nominalization" in Readings in English Transformational Grammar, eds. R. A. Jacobs and P. S. Rosenbaum (Waltham, Mass., 1970), pp. 184-221.

Problems of Knowledge and Freedom: The Russell Lectures (New York, 1971).

Studies on Semantics in Generative Grammar. (The Hague, 1972).

Language and Mind (New York, 1972).

Reflections on Language: The Whidden Lectures (Pantheon Books, New York, 1975).

Essays non Form and Interpretation. (New York, 1977).

Rules and Representations (New York, 1980).

"Principles and Parameters in Syntactic Theory" in Explanation in Linguistics: The Logical Problem of Language Acquisition, eds. N. Hornstein and D. Lightfoot (London, 1981).

Lectures on Government and Binding: The Pisa Lectures (Dordrecht, 1981).

Some Concepts and Consequences of the Theory of Government and Binding (Cambridge, Mass., 1982).

Barriers (Cambridge, Mass., 1986).

Knowledge of Language: Its Nature Origin, and Use (New York, 1986).

"Language and Problems of Knowledge" Synthesis Philosophica 5 (1988): 1-25.

"Accessibility 'in Principle'" Brain and Behavioral Science 13 (1990): 600-601.

"Explaining Language Use" Philosophical Topics, 20 (1992): 205-231.

Language and Thought (Wakefield, Rhode Island., 1993).

"A Minimalist Program for Linguistic Theory" in The View from Building 20 eds. K. Hale and J. Keyser (Cambridge, Mass., 1993).

Language and the Problem of Knowledge: The Managua Lectures (Cambridge. Mass., 1994).

"Language and Nature" Mind 104 (1995):1-61.

The Minimalist Program (Cambridge, Mass., 1995).

New Horizons in the Study of Language and Mind (Cambridge, Mass., 2000).

On Nature and Language (Cambridge, England, 2002).

For a listing of a good sample of the political writings, see: http://www.zmag.org/chomsky/index.cfm.

Further Reading

Baker, Mark The Polysynthesis Parameter (New York, 1996).

Baker, Mark The Atoms of Language (New York, 2001).

Bilgrami, Akeel Belief and Meaning (Oxford, 1992).

Cowie, Fiona What is Within? Nativism Reconsidered (Oxford, 1999).

Crain, Stephen and Rosalind Thornton Investigations in Universal Grammar: A Guide to Experiments on the Acquisition of Syntax and Semantics (Cambridge, Mass., 2000).

Crain, Stephen and Paul Pietroski "Nature, Nurture and Universal Grammar" Linguistics and Philosophy 24 (2001): 139-86.

Fodor, Jerry "The Present Status of the Innateness Controversy" in Representations (Cambridge, Mass., 1981) pp. 257-316.

George, Alexander, Michael Brody and Noam Chomsky, "Review Discussion: Knowledge of Language: Its Nature, Origin and Use" in Mind and Language, 2 (1987).

George, Alexander ed. Reflections on Chomsky (Oxford, 1989).

Harman, Gilbert ed. On Noam Chomsky: Critical Essays (New York, 1974).

Harman, Gilbert "Review of Chomsky, New Horizons in the Study of Language and Mind" The Journal of Philosophy 98 (2001): 265-269.

Hawkins, John A. ed. Explaining Language Universals (Oxford, 1988).

Higginbotham, James "On Semantics" Linguistic Inquiry 16 (1985): 547-593.

Higginbotham, James "Elucidations of Meaning" Linguistics and Philosophy 12 (1989): 465-517.

Hornstein, Norbert and Louise Anthony eds. Chomsky and His Critics (Oxford, forthcoming).

Jackendoff, Ray Foundations of Language: Brain, Meaning, Grammar, Evolution (Oxford, 2002).

Kasher, Asa ed. The Chomskyan Turn (Oxford, 1993).

Kayne, Richard Parameters and Universals (Oxford, 2001).

Larson, Richard and Gabriel Segal Knowledge of Meaning (Cambridge, Mass., 1995).

Lewinton, Richard "The Evolution of Cognition" in An Invitation to Cognitive Science eds. D. N. Osherson and E. E. Smith, vol. 3 (Cambridge, Mass., 1990), pp. 229-246.

Ludlow, Peter Noam Chomsky in A Companion to Analytic Philosophy eds., A. Martinich and D. Sosa (Oxford, 2001).

Ludlow, Peter Noam Chomsky in Philosophy of Science: An Encyclopedia eds., J. Pfeifer and S. Srakar (New York, 2002).

McGilvray, James The Cambridge Companion to Chomsky (Cambridge, England, forthcoming).

McGinn, Colin Problems in Philosophy (Oxford, 1993).

Nagel, Thomas "Chomsky: Linguistics and Epistemology" in Other Minds: Critical Essays, 1969-1994 (Oxford, 1995).

Piatelli-Palmarini, Mario Language and Learning: The Debate between Jean Piaget and Noam Chomsky (Cambridge, Mass., 1980).

Pinker, Stephen The Language Instinct: How the Mind Creates Language (New York, 1994).

Putnam, Hilary "The 'Innateness Hypothesis' and Explanatory Models in Linguistics" Synthese 17 (1967): 12-22.

Putnam, Hilary Representation and Reality (Cambridge, Mass., 1988).

Quine, Willard V. O. "Reply to Chomsky" in Words and Objections: Essays on the Work of W. V. Quine, eds. D. Davidson and J. Hintikka (Dordrecht, 1969), pp. 302-311.

Quine, Willard V. O. "Methodological Reflections on Current Linguistic Theory" Synthese 21 (1970): 386-398.

Radford, Andrew Syntactic Theory and the Structure of English: A Minimalist Approach (Cambridge, England, 1997).

Skinner, B. F. Verbal Behavior (New York, 1957).

Smith, Neil Chomsky: Ideas and Ideals (Cambridge, Mass., 1999).

زندگي نامه ويليام فالکنر

او مخالف سرسخت برده داري بود و از آنها که هنوز از سياهان به عنوان برده استفاده مي کردند، سخت خشمگين و از سياهاني که هنوز تن به برده شدن مي دادند سخت آزرده دل بود؛ اين گونه تفکر و آزادمنشي و مخالفت با هرگونه تبعيض در اکثر آثار او قابل لمس است.

«ويليام فالکنر» WILLIAM FAULKNER نويسنده شهير آمريکايي در 25 سپتامبر سال 1897 در «نيوآلباني» ايالت «مي سي سي پي» متولد شد و در 6 ژوئيه 1962 در «آکسفورد» واقع در ايالت «مي سي سي پي» در 65 سالگي درگذشت. وي دوران کودکي و ايام مدرسه را در شهر کوچک آکسفورد که در داستان هايش آن را «جفرسن» (1) ناميده، گذرانده است. در سال 1916 قبل از ورود آمريکا به جنگ، او براي خدمت به نيروي هوايي کانادا پيوست و به جنگ رفت و در نتيجه ي يک سانحه ي هوايي به سختي مجروح شد و با بدبيني، يأس و خاطره اي زننده از جنگ به وطنش برگشت و بر اثر فقر و تنگدستي به کارهاي گوناگون پرداخت و نويسندگي را هدف خود ساخت.

وارد شدن ويليام فالکنر به ارتش، شايد کشش و تعبيري بود که او ازشخصيت ايده آل پدر بزرگ داشت. بعد از جنگ براي ادامه تحصيل به دانشگاه مي سي سي پي رفت و در خلال تحصيل به طور نيمه وقت براي امرار معاش در کتاب فروشي و روزنامه ي «نيواورلئان» مشغول کار شد.

او چندين بار در پي روياهايش دست از ادامه تحصيل کشيد و با اندک اندوخته اي که داشت راهي سفر اروپا و آسيا شد. در اين رفت و برگشت ها با شغل هاي مختلفي از قبيل نقاشي ساختمان، توزيع نامه در دانشگاه و غيره امرار معاش مي کرد و گاه گاهي مقالات و اشعاري هم مي نوشت.

او مخالف سرسخت برده داري بود و از آنها که هنوز از سياهان به عنوان برده استفاده مي کردند، سخت خشمگين بود و از سياهاني که هنوز تن به برده شدن مي دادند سخت آزرده دل بود. اين گونه تفکر و آزادمنشي و مخالفت با هرگونه تبعيض در اکثر آثار او قابل لمس است.

در «اورلئان» با نويسندگاني آشنا شد که بعدها نقش مهمي در زندگي او داشتند. يکي از نويسندگان، بانويي بود به نام «اندرسون» که در زندگي فالکنر نقش به سزائي را ايفا کرد. فالکنر بعد از آشنايي با اين بانوي نويسنده اولين رمان خود به نام «مزد سرباز» را منتشر کرد.

فالکنر انديشه ازدواج با خانم اندرسون را درسر مي پروراند . اما اندرسون با وکيلي که از نظر مالي و مقام موقعيتي به مراتب موفق تر از فالکنر داشت ازدواج کرد . اين حادثه تأثير عميقي بر روحيه حساس و شاعرانه فالکنر گذاشت و دل شکسته ي او را با رويدادهاي «جهان بودن» هم سو ساخت.

سرگذشت پربار فالکنر مانند رمان ها و اشعارش، سرشار از زير و بم ها و کش و قوس هاي زندگيست.

فالکنر چون «دس پاسوس» و «همينگوي» اولين کتاب خود را در سال 1926 با نوشتن داستان جنگي «مزد سرباز» که قهرمان آن سربازي است که مجروح و بدبين و ناراضي به وطن برمي گردد و در اطراف خود جز خودپرستي نمي بيند شروع کرد. او داستان «خشم و هياهو» را در سال 1929 نوشت که سرگذشت تأثر انگيز خانواده اي را شرح داده است، اين کتاب نام فالکنر را بلند آوازه ساخت.

داستان ديگر اين نويسنده که نام آن «سارتوري» (2) است نيز در 1929 منتشرشد. در اين داستان موضوعي مورد بحث قرار گرفته است که بعداً اساس فکر و نوشته هاي اين نويسنده شد و آن ترسيم جنوب آمريکا يعني قسمت «مي سي سي پي» و جنگ هاي انفصال است. بر اثر اين جنگ ها به عقيده نويسنده ، نسل مردان شريف قديمي منقرض شده و دسيسه کاران و اشخاص متقلب و حيله گر به روي کار مي آيند. داستان «معبد» را فالکنر در سال 1931 منتشر کرد که از خشن ترين و زننده ترين داستان هاي وي است. اين کتاب خواننده زياد داشته است و «آندره مالرو» نويسنده ي شهير فرانسه بر ترجمه فرانسه آن مقدمه اي نوشته و « ژان پل سارتر» نيز مقالاتي درباره آن نگاشته است.

فالکنر در سال 1927 داستان «پشه ها» را منتشر کرد که مورد توجه فراوان واقع شد. وي در سال 1931 کتاب «اين اعداد سيزده» را نيز به رشته تحرير کشيد. در سال 1933 وي مجموعه اشعارش را به نام «شاخه هاي سبز» منتشر کرد و در 1935 کتاب «برج» را منتشر نمود. در سال 1939 کتاب «نخل هاي جنگلي» وي با استقبال عمومي روبرو گشت. کتاب هاي «هملت» در 1940 و «مزاحم دربار» در 1948 نام وي را در رديف نويسندگان بزرگ معاصر آمريکا قرار داد. فالکنردر سال 1951 «مجموعه داستان هاي کوتاه» و در 1953«گل سفيد» و در 1954 «يک افسانه» را به رشته تحرير کشيد و در 1955 «جنگل هاي بزرگ» و «عمو ويلي» را منتشر کرد.

آنچه در آثار اين نويسنده جلب توجه مي کند نخست بدبيني شديد اوست. ديگر از خصوصيات نويسندگي او تشريح و نقاشي مناظر کشتن و قطع اعضاء و نظاير اين هاست. از مشخصات ديگر اين نويسنده شيوه ي خاص او در توجه به زمان است که خواننده را معمولاً گيج و گمراه مي کند. تقريباً هيچگاه نويسنده، داستاني را مرتب و به تدريج از ابتدا تا انتها شرح نمي دهد، بلکه اغلب از آخر مطلب شروع مي کند.

اين نويسنده، خواننده را در مقابل اجزاي پراکنده موضوع و مسئله اي مي گذارد که تعبير و حل آن فقط پس از صحبت ها و مکالماتي که قطع شده و دوباره شروع مي شود، ميسر مي گردد. «فالکنر» در سال 1943 به اخذ جايزه ادبي نوبل نايل آمد و در سال 1954 جايزه «پوليتزر Pulitzer» را دريافت نمود. وي نويسنده اي است که به تدريج در آمريکا کسب شهرت نموده است. آثار اين نويسنده هنوز هم در اين کشور خواننده کثير و فروش زياد ندارد، برعکس در فرانسه طبقه روشنفکر ارزش فوق العاده اي براي او قائلند.

منبع: سایت تبیان

اینجا شب است... شب نوئل؛ در قلعه ی کوچک من همه ی این سپاهیان بی سلاح خفته اند، نه تنها برادر و خواهر تو ، حتی مادرت. به زحمت توانستم بی آنکه این پرندگان خفته را بیدار کنم خود را به این اتاق کوچک نیمه روشن ، به این اتاق انتظار پیش از مرگ برسانم . من از تو بس دورم خیلی دور... اما چشمانم کور باد اگر یک لحظه تصویر تو را از چشم خانه ی من دور کنند؛تصویر تو آنجا روی میز هم هست ،تصویر تو اینجا روی قلب من نیز هست ، اما تو کجایی؟ آنجا در پاریس افسونگر بر روی صحنه ی پر شکوه شانزه لیزه می رقصی ؛ این را می دانم، و چنان است که گویی در این سکوت شبانگاهی آهنگ قدم هایت را می شنوم، و درین ظلمات زمستانی برق ستارگان چشمانت را می بینم . شنیده ام نقش تو در این نمایش پر نور و پرشکوه نقش آن شاهدخت ایرانی است که اسیر خان تاتار شده، شاهزاده خانم باش و برقص ، ستاره باش و بدرخش ، اما اگر قهقه ی تحسین آمیز تماشاگران و عطر مستی آور گلهایی که برایت فرستاده اند ، ترا فرصت هشیاری داد ، در گوشه ای بنشین ، نامه ام را بخوان و به صدای پدرت گوش فرا دار، من پدر تو هستم ژرالدین! من چارلی چاپلین هستم ! وقتی بچه بودی شبهای دراز به بالینت نشستم و برایت قصه ها گفتم : قصه ی زیبای خفته در جنگل،قصه ی اژدهای بیدار در صحرا ، خواب که به چشمان پیرم می آمد طعنه اش می زدم و می گفتم: برو! 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به دنبال نام تو نام من است. چاپلین! با همین نام چهل سال، بیشتر مردم روی زمین را خنداندم وبیشترازآنچه آنان خندیدند،من گریستم. ژرالدین! در دنیایی که تو زندگی می کنی، تنها رقص و موسیقی نیست.نیمه شب، هنگامی که از سالن پرشکوه تئاتر بیرون می آیی، آن تحسین کننده گان ثروتمند را یکسره فراموش کن . اما حال آن راننده تاکسی راکه تورا به منزل میرساند بپرس .حال زنش راهم بپرس ...و اگر آبستن بود وپولی برای خریدن لباس بچه اش نداشت چک بکش و پنهانی توی جیب شوهرش بگذار به نماینده خودم دربانک پاریس دستور داده ام فقط این نوع خرجهای تورا بی چون و چرا قبول کند اما برای خرجهای دیگرت باید صورت حساب بفرستی .گاه به گاه با اتوبوس، با مترو شهررا بگرد، مردم را نگاه کن ، زنان بیوه و کودکان یتیم را نگاه کن ودست کم روزی یک بار با خود بگو: من هم یکی از آنان هستم ! تو یکی از آنها هستی دخترم نه بیشتر ! هنر پیش از آنکه دو بال دور پرواز به انسان بدهد ، اغلب دو پای اورا می شکند . وقتی به آنجا رسیدی که یک لحظه خود را برتر از تماشاگران رقص خویش بدانی همان لحظه صحنه را ترک کن و با اولین تاکسی خود را به حومه پاریس برسان. من آنجا را خوب می شناسم ، از قرنها پیش آنجا گهواره بهاری کولیان بوده است . در آنجا رقاصه هایی مثل خودت خواهی دید، زیبا تر از تو،چالاک تر از تو و مغرور تراز تو!آنجا از نور نورافکن های تئاتر شانزه لیزه خبری نیست. نور افکن کولیان تنها نور ماه است!نگاه کن ! 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دل به زر و زیور نبند، زیرا بزرگترین الماس این جهان آفتاب است که خوشبختانه ،این الماس برای همه می درخشد. برهنگی بیماری عصر ماست!من پیرمردم، شاید حرفهای خنده آور می زنم، اما بد نیست اندیشه تو در این مورد مال ده سال پیش باشد، مال دوران پوشیدگی! نترس! ده سال ترا پیر نخواهد کرد. به هر حال امیدوارم تو آخرین کسی باشی که تبعه جزیره ی لختی ها می شود! می دانم که پدران و فرزندان همیشه جنگی جاودانی با یکدیگر دارند. با من ، با اندیشه های من جنگ کن دخترم؛من از کودکان مطیع خوشم نمی آید! با این همه پیش ازآنکه اشک های من این نامه را تر کند، می خواهم یک امید به خودم بدهم؛ امشب شب نوئل است، شب معجزه؛ امیدوارم معجزه ای رخ دهد تا تو آنچه من براستی می خواستم بگویم دریافته باشی. چارلی دیگر پیر شده است ژرالدین! دیریا زود باید به جای آن جامه های نمایش ، روزی هم جامه عزا بپوشی و بر سر مزار من بیایی. حاضر به زحمت تو نیستم ، تنها گاهگاهی چهره ی خود را در آینه نگاه کن ، آنجا مرا نیز خواهی دید! خون من در رگهای توست.امیدوارم حتی آن زمان که خون در رگهای من می خشکد ، چارلی را ، پدرت را فراموش نکنی. من فرشته نبودم ، اما تا آنجا که در توان من بود تلاش کردم آدمی باشم! تو نیز تلاش کن. رویت را می بوسم . سوئیس - دومین ساعت از 8760 ساعت ِ سال

نامه اي از ويكتور هوگو ...

قبل از هر چيز برايت آرزو ميكنم كه عاشق شوي ،
و اگر هستي ، كسي هم به تو عشق بورزد ،
و اگر اينگونه نيست ، تنهاييت كوتاه باشد ،
و پس از تنهاييت ، نفرت از كسي نيابي.
آرزومندم كه اينگونه پيش نيايد .......
اما اگر پيش آمد ، بداني چگونه به دور از نااميدي زندگي كني.
برايت همچنان آرزو دارم دوستاني داشته باشي ،
از جمله دوستان بد و ناپايدار ........
برخي نادوست و برخي دوستدار ...........
كه دست كم يكي در ميانشان بي ترديد مورد اعتمادت باشد .
و چون زندگي بدين گونه است ،
برايت آرزو مندم كه دشمن نيز داشته باشي......
نه كم و نه زياد ..... درست به اندازه ،
تا گاهي باورهايت را مورد پرسش قراردهند ،
كه دست كم يكي از آنها اعتراضش به حق باشد.....
تا كه زياده به خود غره نشوي .
و نيز آرزو مندم مفيد فايده باشي ، نه خيلي غير ضروري .....
تا در لحظات سخت ،
وقتي ديگر چيزي باقي نمانده است،
همين مفيد بودن كافي باشد تا تو را سرپا نگاه دارد .
همچنين برايت آرزومندم صبور باشي ،
نه با كساني كه اشتباهات كوچك ميكنند ........
چون اين كار ساده اي است ،
بلكه با كساني كه اشتباهات بزرگ و جبران ناپذير ميكنند .....
و با كاربرد درست صبوريت براي ديگران نمونه شوي.
و اميدوارم اگر جوان هستي ،
خيلي به تعجيل ، رسيده نشوي......
و اگر رسيده اي ، به جوان نمائي اصرار نورزي ،
و اگر پيري ،تسليم نا اميدي نشوي...........
چرا كه هر سني خوشي و ناخوشي خودش را دارد و لازم است
بگذاريم در ما جريان يابد.
اميدوارم سگي را نوازش كني ، به پرنده اي دانه بدهي و به آواز يك
سهره گوش كني ، وقتي كه آواي سحرگاهيش را سر ميدهد.....
چراكه به اين طريق ، احساس زيبايي خواهي يافت....
به رايگان......
اميدوارم كه دانه اي هم بر خاك بفشاني .....
هر چند خرد بوده باشد .....
و با روييدنش همراه شوي ،
تا دريابي چقدر زندگي در يك درخت وجود دارد.
به علاوه اميدوارم پول داشته باشي ، زيرا در عمل به آن نيازمندي.....
و سالي يكبار پولت را جلو رويت بگذاري و بگويي :
" اين مال من است " ،
فقط براي اينكه روشن كني كدامتان ارباب ديگري است !
و در پايان ، اگر مرد باشي ،آرزومندم زن خوبي داشته باشي ....
و اگر زني ، شوهر خوبي داشته باشي ،
كه اگر فردا خسته باشيد ، يا پس فردا شادمان ،
باز هم از عشق حرف برانيد تا از نو بيآغازيد ...
اگر همه اينها كه گفتم برايت فراهم شد ،
ديگر چيزي ندارم برايت آرزو كنم ...

ويكتور هوگو

« ارنست همینگوی Ernest Hemingway نویسنده رئالیست و بزرگترین رمان نویس آمریکایی در ۲۱ جولای ۱۸۹۹ در «اوک پارک » (۱) (حومه شیکاگو ) از توابع ایالات « ایلی نویز » (۲) به دنیا آمد و در دوم جولای ۱۹۶۱ در «Ketchum » واقع در ایالت « آیداهو » (۳) هنگامی که تفنگ شکاری خود را پاک می کرد اشتباهاً هدف گلوله خود قرار گرف

و با مرگ او درخشان ترین چهره ی ادبیات قرن بیستم آمریکا ناپدید گردید. پدرش دکتر «کلارنس همینگوی» مردی سرشناس و قابل احترام بود و علاوه بر پزشکی به شکار و ماهیگیری نیز علاقه داشت. دکتر کلارنس همسری داشت پرهیزگار و با ایمان که انجیل می خواند و با اهل کلیسا محشور بود و از او صاحب شش فرزند بود. دومین فرزند این پزشک «ارنست» نامیده می شد. چون پدر و مادرش با هم توافق و تجانس اخلاقی نداشتند ، ارنست از این حیث دچار زحمت و اِشکال بود. مادر به فرزند خود توصیه می کرد که سرود مذهبی یاد بگیرد، اما پدرش چوب و تور ماهیگیری به او می داد که تمرین ماهیگیری کند. در ده سالگی پدرش او را با تفنگ و شکار آشنا ساخت. در دبستان همینگوی احساس کرد که ذهنش برای ادبیات مستعد است و شروع به نوشتن مقالات ادبی، داستان و روزنامه ای که خود شاگردان اداره می کردند، نمود. رفقای وی سبک انشای روان او را می ستودند؛ با وجود این عملاً علاقه و محبتی به او نشان نمی دادند، گویی در نظر آنها برتری و امتیاز گناهی نابخشودنی بود. ارنست به ورزش خیلی علاقه نشان می داد و به قدری در این کار بی باک بود که یکبار دماغش شکست و بار دیگر چشمش آسیب دید! تنفر از خانواده و دبستان هم موجب شد که وی هر دو را ترک گوید. او دوبار گریخت، بار دوم غیبت او چندین ماه طول کشید؛ می گفتند او در به در شده و به شداید و سختی های زندگی تن در داده و تجربیاتی اندوخته است. او گاهی در مزرعه کارگری می کرد، زمانی به ظرف شویی در رستوران ها می پرداخت و مدتی نیز به طور پنهانی به وسیله قطارهای حامل کالای تجارتی از نقطه ای به نقطه ی دیگر سفر می کرد.بالاخره وی تحصیلات متوسطه ی خود را در مدرسه عالی اوک پارک به اتمام رسانید. او با خانواده ی خود تعطیلات تابستانی را در میان جنگلی نزدیک میشیگان که به نزهت و خرمی معروف است، می گذرانید. در آنجا ارنست کوچک لذت شکار و ماهیگیری را دریافت. در سومین سالگرد تولدش، پدرش برای نخستین بار او را به ماهیگیری برد. این گردش، فوق العاده از کار درآمد. اما تابستان هایی که در میشیگان سپری می کردند، به همینگوی چیزی بیش از عشق مادام العمر به مزارع و جویبارها داد. او از میان خاطرات این ایام، محل ها و شخصیت های بعضی از بهترین داستان هایش را بیرون می کشید. همینگوی مناظر آن جنگل ها را در داستان های اولیه خود که در پاریس منتشر می نمود منعکس ساخته است. این نویسنده نیز مانند بسیاری از معاصران خود تحصیلاتی عالی و دانشگاهی نداشت. وقتی در سال ۱۹۱۷ آمریکا هم درگیر جنگ جهانی بزرگ شد، همینگوی با سری پر شور خود را سرباز داوطلب معرفی نمود ولی به خاطر معیوب بودن چشم، ورقه معافی به دستش دادند. در همان اوان با مدیر روزنامه «کانزاس سیتی استار» که در «میدل وست» منتشر می شد آشنا شد و مدت دو ماه رپورتاژهایی برای روزنامه مزبور تهیه می کرد. بعدها نیز رانندگی آمبولانس صلیب سرخ را به عهده گرفت و به جبهه جنگ ایتالیا رهسپار گردید. در زمان جنگ، یک روز که با آمبولانس خود به کمک مجروحین می شتافت زخمی شد، جراحتش وخیم و خطرناک بود و بر اثر آن به وی مدال جنگی ایتالیا دادند و همچنین از دولت متبوع خود مدال نقره ای دریافت داشت. اثر زخم و جراحات این جنگ بعدها در ساق پایش تا مدتها باقی ماند. همینگوی به «شیگاگو»(۴) برگشت و با نویسندگان بزرگی مانند «شروود آندرسون»(۵) و همچنین «جان دوس پاسوس» (۶) آشنا شد. در این موقع دختر جوان و روزنامه نویسی به نام «هدلی ریچاردسون» (۷) علاقه و توجهش را به خود جلب کرد و در نتیجه با هم ازدواج کردند. در سپتامبر ۱۹۲۱ زن و شوهر جوان به صورت دو خبرنگار عازم میدان جنگ یونان و ترکیه شدند. با وجودی که همینگوی از جنگ سابق خاطرات تلخی داشت و دوبار هم زخمی شده بود، میدان جدید نبرد را با آغوش باز استقبال کرد. جنگ ترک و یونان نیز به نفع ترک ها و «کمال آتاتورک» پایان یافت و همینگوی از آنجا به پاریس رفت. در پاریس برحسب توصیه «آندرسون» با «گرترود استن» (۸) نویسنده آمریکایی که در فرانسه موطن اختیار نموده بود، آشنا شد و در مکتب ادبی او به پرورش استعداد نویسندگی خود پرداخت و شروع به نوشتن سرگذشت های کوچک و ساده ای کرد. گرترود استن مردی چاق، جدی و بی گذشت بود با این وصف بین او و همینگوی خیلی زودی علایق و روابطی برقرار گردید و هر دو از معاشرت همدیگر لذت می بردند. همینگوی در پاریس علاوه بر گرترود استن با «پیکاسو» و «سزان» نیز آشنایی یافت. آنها از خواندن نوشته های سلیس، روشن، بی ابهام و در عین حال عامیانه و ساده ی همینگوی که مانند آب صاف و زلال بود استفاده می بردند. نخستین آثار و داستانهای همینگوی سر و صدای زیادی ایجاد کرده بود. آن موقع هدلی همسر همینگوی باردار بود و چون از این طرز شهرت خوشش نمی آمد، روزی با اطلاع شوهرش پاریس را به قصد شیکاگو ترک کرد تا کودکش در دیار خودش متولد شد. در مدتی که هدلی در آمریکا وضع حمل کرد و به پاریس بازگشت، همینگوی چند سرگذشت و نوول تازه به وجود آورد. این نوول ها و داستان ها مانند میخ محکم و سخت بود.

یکی از آنها موسوم به «پنجاه هزار دلار» بود که در آن ماجرای زندگی مرد ورزشکار و مشت زنی تصویر گردیده بود. اسم نوول دیگر وی، «هفته نامه آتلانتیک» (۹) بود که پس از داستان قبلی به وجود آمده و به چاپ رسیده بود و مجله ی پرتیراژی آن را به صورت پاورقی منتشر ساخت. هر کس نوول اخیر را می خواند به چیره دستی و مهارت همینگوی در ادبیات و روان نویسی او پی می برد . خوشبختانه همین نوول بیست صفحه ای اسم نویسنده را بر سر زبان ها انداخت و مشهورش ساخت. انتشار نوول «هفته نامه آتلانتیک» سبب شد که خیلی از روزنامه ها و مجلات از او تقاضای داستان و پاورقی جدید نمایند. وقتی که آنها خواستند با وی قرار داد ببندند، وی رد کرد. نه اینکه از پول و اجرت نویسندگی بدش می آمد ، بلکه اصلاً او فکر نمی کرد که باید آثار قلمی را فروخت. زیرا می گفت: «نویسنده آزاد و سرخود بودن، ارزشش برای من بیش از اینهاست، آنچه آرزوی من است خوب چیز نوشتن است.... با قناعت زندگی می کنم و در عوض هر چه دلم بخواهد چیز می نویسم.» همینگوی در موقع توقفش در پاریس به قدری در غذا قانع بود که یک ظرف سیب زمینی پخته برای هر وعده غذای او فقط پنج فرانک تمام می شد! وی در آثارش فقط از افکار و عقیده خود پیروی می نمود و می دانست اگر بنا شود پای دستمزد به میان آید باید از سلیقه ی شخصی عدول کرد. قطعات گوناگون شعر او در سال ۱۹۲۳ در مجله «شاعری Poetry» چاپ شد و در همین سال همینگوی در شهر «دیژون» (۱۰) فرانسه کتاب کوچکی به نام «سه سرگذشت و ده قطعه شعر» نوشت و به چاپ رسانید.

در سال ۱۹۲۴ کتاب «در زمان ما» را در پاریس انتشار داد که بار دیگر با ملحقات و اضافاتی آن را در آمریکا به چاپ رسانید و نوول های کوتاه و ساده ای را در بین فصول کتاب سابق جای داد. در سال ۱۹۲۷ وی کتاب «مردان بدون زنان» را منتشر کرد. انتشار این کتاب همینگوی را تا مقام یک نویسنده استاد بالا برد و وی را مظهر مکتب خاص داستان نویسی مترقی قرار داد. در همین سال (۱۹۲۷) هدلی - همسرش - با وجودی که با عشق قدم به میدان زناشوئی گذشته بود پیوند و علاقه خود را از او گسست.همینگوی در این باب گفته بود: «هرکس در زنان بزرگواری و وفا بجوید، احمق است.» نویسنده جوان علیرغم این بی وفایی، به زودی با زن دیگری به نام «پولین» پیمان زناشویی بست. پولین، زنی زیبا و دوست داشتنی بود و ریاست گروه نویسندگان روزنامه «وگ» (۱۱) را به عهده داشت. آثار و نوشته های همینگوی با آنکه به حد اعلای شهرت می رسید با پیروزی مالی توأم نبود، ولی وقتی کتاب «بیوگرافی نویسندگان آمریکایی مقیم پاریس» را انتشار داد درهای موفقیت به رویش گشوده شد. این نخستین بار بود که همینگوی می فهمید موفقیت در نویسندگی چه طعمی دارد. همه کسانی - اعم از آمریکایی، انگلیسی و فرانسوی - که این کتاب را خوانده اند، توانایی و قدرت قلم او را ستوده اند و عقیده دارند که در آن تازگی و ابتکار وجود دارد. به دنبال انتشار این کتاب، کتاب دیگری موسوم به «آدم کشها» به منزله ی شاهکاری به عشاق علم و ادب عرضه گردید. در سال ۱۹۲۸ وی اروپا را به قصد اقامت در سواحل اقیانوس ترک کرد. شهر «کی وست» (۱۲) فلوریدا مقدمش را گرامی شمرد. مردم او را با شکم گوشتالو و برآمده و ریش انبوه و یک لقب پاپا در آن شهر دیدند.

ثمره نخستین ازدواج همینگوی پسری بود به نام «جان». «پولین» زن دومش نیز دو پسر برای او آورد، یکی «پاتریک» در سال ۱۹۲۹ و دیگری «گرگوری» در سال ۱۹۳۲.در ۱۹۲۹ وی کتاب «وداع با اسلحه» را منتشر کرد که در آن به جنگهای ایتالیا اشاره نموده است. همینگوی در سال ۱۹۳۲ کتاب «مرگ در بعدازظهر» را انتشار داد. این کتاب از آن نظر که نویسنده حالات و جزئیات مربوط به مرگ را با قلمی سحّـار و سبکی بسیار بدیع تشریح می کند در ادبیات آمریکا و در میان آثار خود او اهمیت فراوان دارد. در سال ۱۹۳۳ وی کتاب «برنده سهمی ندارد» را به رشته تحریر کشید. همینگوی شکارچی بسیار ماهری بود و اغلب برای شکار شیرو حیوانات خطرناک دیگر به سرزمین آفریقا سفر می کرد و تأثراتی را که در این شکارها پیدا کرده بود در کتاب «تپه های سبز آفریقا» منعکس نموده است. وی این کتاب را در سال ۱۹۳۶ منتشر کرد. در همین سال کتاب های «زندگی اهالی پاریس» و «کشتن برای اجتناب از کشته شدن» را نگاشت. درسال ۱۹۴۰ همسر دومش نیز با او قطع علاقه کرد. همینگوی در اواخر همین سال با خانمی رمان نویس به نام «مارتاژلورن» برای سومین دفعه ازدواج کرد. این دو نفر پس از عروسی به «چین» سفر کردند و مدتی هم در «کوبا» به سر بردند.

در سال ۱۹۳۷ وی کتاب «داشتن و نداشتن» را منتشر کرد که شهرتش افزوده گردید.در سال ۱۹۳۸ همینگوی مجموعه داستان های «ستون پنجم» را منتشر نمود. پس از آغاز جنگ های داخلی اسپانیا، وی با عده ای از روشنفکران آمریکا برآن شدند که با جمهوری طلبان اسپانیا همراهی نمایند. همینگوی پس از آن که دوبار در مراحل مختلف جنگ اسپانیا شرکت کرد در «کی وست» فلوریدا ساکن شد و به نوشتن آثار پرارزشی مانند ماجرای «هاری مورگان قاچاقچی» پرداخت. این کتاب خصیصه ی دیگری از ارنست همینگوی را که همان وجدان اجتماعی او است به خوبی آشکار می سازد، چنانکه همین خصیصه در یکی دیگر از شاهکارهای او به نام «ناقوس مرگ که را می زنند؟» اثری که اشتباهاً تحت عنوان «زنگها برای که به صدا در می آیند» ترجمه شده است، به نحو بسیار بارزتری تجلی کرد. کتاب اخیر راجع به جنگ های داخلی اسپانیا است که در سال ۱۹۴۰ منتشر شد و قهرمانش مردی به نام «روبرت جردن» یا خود همینگوی است. همینگوی در دوران جنگ دوم بین المللی رابط ارتش در انگلستان و فرانسه بود و مدتی به جز مقالاتی چند، چیزی منتشر نمی کرد، تا جایی که همشهریانش گمان می کردند که استعداد و قدرت نویسندگی هنرمند محبوبشان رو به زوال رفته است. پس از جنگ در هتل «ویز» اقامت کرد و شروع به نوشتن کتابی درباره دومین جنگ نمود ولی در اثر درد چشم آن را نیمه تمام گذاشت و در عوض به شکار پرداخت. او بعدها رمان کوتاهی که در آن شرح آخرین عشق خود را که مربوط به زن جوانی بود که به یک سرهنگ ترش و تلخ و ناراحت تعلق داشت، نوشت. «ماری ولش» چهارمین زن و یا آخرین همسر او نیز برای روزنامه ها مقاله می نوشت. همینگوی با این زن در «هاوانا» (۱۳) در منزلی به نام «فری ویژی» زندگی می کرد. او کوبا را دوست داشت و از سکوت و آرامش محیط آن جا لذت می برد. در «هاوانا» خیلی از اشخاص به دیدن او رفتند که در بین آنها ستارگان هالیوود و رجال درجه اول اسپانیا نیز بودند و نویسنده بزرگ با ریش سفید و قیافه مقدس از آنها پذیرایی می کرد. در سال ۱۹۵۰ رمان جدیدی از این نویسنده به نام «آن طرف رودخانه در میان درختان» منتشر شد. این کتاب داستان عشق بی تناسب یک افسر پنجاه ساله ی آمریکایی نسبت به یک دختر نوزده ساله ونیزی است. بالاخره در سال ۱۹۵۲ شاهکار جاودان خود را به نام «پیرمرد و دریا» به رشته تحریر کشید و به اوج شهرت و عظمت ادبی صعود کرد و آمریکایی ها دانستند که قدرت هنری نویسنده محبوبشان زوال نپذیرفته است. این اثر بی مانند در سال ۱۹۵۳ به دریافت جایزه «پولیتزر» و در سال ۱۹۵۴ به دریافت جایزه ادبی نوبل نائل گردید. ارنست همینگوی در سال ۱۹۶۱ در گذشت و با مرگش یکی از تابناک ترین چهره های ادبی آمریکا از میان رفت. او معمولاً ساعت پنج و نیم صبح سر از بالین خواب بر می داشت و شروع به کار می کرد و معمولاً بامداد چیز می نوشت و یا مقابل ماشین تحریر آن را دیکته می کرد. بعد از ظهرها اگر هوا مساعد بود به وسیله کشتی یا زورق به صید ماهی می پرداخت. «همینگوی» همیشه فکر می کرد و می گفت: «یک نویسنده باید تماس خود را با طبیعت حفظ کند.» از آثار دیگر وی می توان «سیلابهای بهاری»، «تعظیم به سویس»، «خورشید همچنان می درخشد»، «برفهای کلیمانجارو»، «یک روز انتظار»، «به راه خرابات در چوب تاک»، «پس از طوفان»، «روشنایی جهان»، «وطن به توچه می گوید»، «اکنون دراز می کشم» و «کلبه سرخ پوست» را نام برد.

«آندره ژید» Andre Gide نویسنده ی شهیر فرانسوی در ۲۲ نوامبر سال ۱۸۶۹ در پاریس به دنیا آمد و در ۱۹ فوریه سال ۱۹۵۱ در همان جا درگذشت. پدر آندره از مردم «نرماندی» و مادرش از اهل جنوب فرانسه بود. پدر و مادر «ژید» از لحاظ اخلاق و سجایا و روحیات باهم اختلاف داشتند و چون پدر «ژید» به واسطه ی گرفتاری نمی توانست به تربیت فرزند خود بپردازد، لذا پرورش وی به عهده ی مادرش که زنی سخت گیر بود قرار گرفت.

«آندره ژید» Andre Gide نویسنده ی شهیر فرانسوی در ۲۲ نوامبر سال ۱۸۶۹ در پاریس به دنیا آمد و در ۱۹ فوریه سال ۱۹۵۱ در همان جا درگذشت. پدر آندره از مردم «نرماندی» و مادرش از اهل جنوب فرانسه بود. پدر و مادر «ژید» از لحاظ اخلاق و سجایا و روحیات باهم اختلاف داشتند و چون پدر «ژید» به واسطه ی گرفتاری نمی توانست به تربیت فرزند خود بپردازد، لذا پرورش وی به عهده ی مادرش که زنی سخت گیر بود قرار گرفت. خانواده ی ژید که پیرو مذهب «پروتستان» بودند تعصب شدیدی در امور مذهبی داشتند و می خواستند که «آندره» هم تمام اعمال دینی را به جا آورده، تسلیم ایمان مذهبی گردد. ولی برخلاف تمایل خانواده، ژید از کوچکی طبع سرکشی داشت و تعلیمات مذهبی را نمی پذیرفت. در سال ۱۸۸۰ یعنی در یازده سالگی آندره ی کوچک پدر خود را از دست داد و نفوذ و قدرت مادرش نسبت به وی فزونی گرفت و مادر سخت گیر او را در فشار گذاشت که هم امور مذهبی را انجام دهد و هم در مدرسه به تحصیل بپردازد، ولی ژید از هر دو موضوع امتناع داشت و ناچار لجاجت و سخت گیری مادرش از اندازه گذشت تا جایی که وی به گریه و زاری های آندره اهمیت نمی داد. در نتیجه ی شدت فشار، آندره دچار حمله ی عصبی گردید و به رختخواب افتاد و مادرش ناگزیر شد او را برای معالجه به آسایشگاه «سناتوریوم» ببرد؛ گرچه بر اثر مداوا و آزادی عمل حال ژید بهبود یافت ولی آثار این دوران فشار و اسارت و بیماری در نوشته های وی به ظهور رسید. ژید به تحصیل بی علاقه بود و از محیط مدرسه نفرت داشت و همان اندازه که مادر و سایر افراد خانواده اش به تحصیلات آندره و تعلیمات مذهبی وی علاقه مند بودند چند برابر آن وی نسبت به هر دو موضوع بی علاقه بود تا بالاخره مادر ژید یک نفر معلم سرخانه برای تعلیم وی گماشت و بهترین و ضروری ترین کتاب تحصیلی او را انجیل قرار داد.با این حال آندره ژید از معلم خودش موسیقی آموخت و در این هنر پیشرفت بسیار کرد. او همچنین با وجود مواظبت خانواده اش چند کتاب دیگر به دست آورده در ساعات فراغت مطالعه می کرد و از این راه با نویسندگی و ادبیات آشنا شد و از همین روزنه ی کوچک دنیای بزرگ ذوق و هنر را تماشا کرد و برای تمام عمر فریفته ی آن شد و در تحت قانون فطری که هر موجود ذی روح در برابر فشار و محرومیت عکس العمل شدید نشان می دهد، آندره ژید هم مظهر عجیب این واکنش طبیعی قرار گرفت، به طوری که در تمام عمر آزادی و بی بند و باری را جانشین فشار و حرمان دوران کودکی قرار داد . وی در ۱۶ سالگی، بی اختیار عاشق دخترعموی خود «مادلین Madeleine Rondeaux» (۱۹۳۸–۱۸۶۷) گردید. نویسنده ی جوان از این احساسات و عوالم عشق و شیفتگی در آثار خویش صحبت و به نام «امانوئل» از دختر عموی خویش «مادلین» یادآوری می کند. در این موقع وی اولین کتاب خود را به نام «خاطرات و اشعار آندره والتر» منتشر کرد. این کتاب که نخستین اثر نویسنده است تقریباً نیتجه ی یک سلسله ناکامی های دوره ی جوانی است که در تعقیب و امتداد جریان حیات پر از یأس و حرمان کودکی کشانده شده است. این کتاب تحت تأثیر التهابات شدید روحی دوره ی جوانی و در محیط آرام سرزمین «آنسی Annecy» نوشته شده است.در سال ۱۸۸۹ کتاب «مسافرت اورین» را نوشت که حاوی شدیدترین و لطیف ترین احساسات و خاطرات ایام جوانی است. آندره ژید در سال ۱۸۹۳ خود را از قیود خشک تقدس رها ساخته به «تونس» و آفریقا رفت و در مدت دو سالی که در آنجا بود جز مدت یک بیماری که سل گرفت و مجبور شد در «بیسکرا» بماند، به خوش گذرانی مشغول بود . ژید در کشمکش هوی و هوس و زندگی آرام مدتی اسیر و با طبیعت خود در مجادله بود تا آن که سرانجام به پاریس بازگشت و به سال ۱۸۹۷ کتاب «مائده ها ی زمینی The Fruits of the Earth» را در مراجعت از سفر آفریقا به رشته ی تحریر درآورد.در این موقع « ژید» دوباره از زندگی در پاریس دلگیر شد و به مسافرت پرداخت و این بار رخت به سوی «الجزیره» کشید و پس از آنکه خبر فوت مادرش به وی رسید بار دیگر به فرانسه برگشت و با تجدید عوالم عشق و شیفتگی دوران جوانی با دختر عموی خود مادلین ازدواج کرد. وی کتاب «رذل» را پس از مسافرت و گردش در «الجزایر» به قلم آورد، و آن داستان کسی است که برای ابراز شخصیت خود از سنن و مقررات رهایی پیدا کرده و برای اجرای افکار و آرزوهای خود تلاش و کوشش می کند. ژید که از زندگی آرام و انزوا بیزار بود و می خواست حیات خود را در دیدن آثار و مناظر جدید و سیاحت و مطالعه بگذارند در زمانی که پنجاه و چهار سال از عمرش می گذشت یعنی به سال ۱۹۲۳ به مسافرت پرداخت و سفری به «کنگو» کرد و پس از یک سال اقامت در آنجا به پاریس بازگشت. در سال ۱۹۳۶ سفری به کشور «شوروی» کرد و پس از گشت و گذار و مطالعه در آن محیط به فرانسه مراجعت نمود. آندره ژید پس از فراغت از تحصیلات مقدماتی به مطالعه ی آثار نویسندگان و شعراء پرداخته بود. و کتب زیادی را بررسی کرده بود و با نویسندگان بزرگی مانند «مترلینگ»، «رنیه»، «مالارمه» و « پیرلوئیس» آشنایی داشت. ژید از بیست سالگی شروع به نویسندگی کرد و اگر چه آثار اولیه اش چندان مورد توجه قرار نگرفت ولی در عین حال مخالفین و موافقینی پیدا کرد و وقتی که اندک شهرتی بهم رسانید و انجمن ادبی لندن در شعبه ی ادبیات، کرسی «آناتول فرانس» را به «آندره ژید» واگذار کرد این کار توجه زاید الوصف خوانندگان و علاقه مندان به آثار ادبی را به سوی ژید و آثار وی معطوف ساخت. آندره ژید علاوه بر نشر آثار ادبی از داستان و بیوگرافی و نمایشنامه به همراهی دوستان و آشنایان خود به تأسیس مجله ی «جدید فرانسه» همت گماشت که مدت سی و سه سال از ۱۹۰۸ تا ۱۹۴۱ دوام داشت و این مجله ی ادبی خدمت بسیار بزرگی به ادبیات جهان و خاصه ادبیات فرانسه نموده است که نسل کنونی آشنایی و ارتباط خود را با آثار و شاهکارهای هنرمندان و نویسندگان معاصر اروپایی و امریکایی مرهون آن می باشد.«آندره ژید» در سال ۱۹۴۷ به دریافت جایزه ی ادبی نوبل موفق گردید. او به جهت همکاری با آلمان ها در میان هم میهنان خود و در دنیای دموکراسی بد نام گردیده و مورد غضب و کینه قرار گرفته است. از آثار دیگر او می توان «اگر دانه نمیرد»، «در تنگ»، «اودیپ »، « داستایوسکی»، «آهنگ روستائی»، «زیر زمین های واتیکان»، «مسافرت به کنگو»، «کوریدون»، «سکه سازان قلب»، «تزه»، «مکتب زنان»، «ایزابل»، «ربرت ژنویو»، «اخلاق»، «مذاکرات خیالی»، «تربیت زنان»، «دفتر سپید و سیاه»، «باطلاق ها»، «بهانه ها»، «بهانه های تازه»، «اکنون با تو»، «پرومته تزه»، «بازگشت از شوروی»، «بازگشت کودک ولگرد»، «مائده های زمینی»، «خاطراتی از اسکارواید»، «دفترهای یاداشت آندره والتر»،«مائده های تازه» و «مسافرت اورین» را نام برد

مجموعه، داستان های کوتاه

آدرس: شهر ‌« ت » ، خيابان انشاد ، خانه ي شماره ي ۵۵۵

آتشكان

كريم آتشكان . سي ساله ، قد متوسط ، چشم ها ميشي . چشم ها ميشي ، قد متوسط ، وزن متوسط ، زيبايي متوسط . همه چيز متوسط . فقط چشم ها ميشي . اما يك چيز متأسفانه از متوسط هم پايين تر : خريدن كفش .

آقاي آتشكان كفش هايش را فقط از مغازه هايي مي خرد كه معمولاْ همراه كفش چيزي هم اضافه مي دهند ؛ مثلاْ جوراب و يا هر دو هفته يك بار قرعه مي كشند و به برندگان ، ديگ زودپز چوبي و يا كارد و چنگال پلاستيكي هديه مي كنند . اما آقاي آتشكان جوراب ها را پس مي دهد ؛ جوراب نمي پوشد . و چون مجرد است و تصميم دارد مجرد هم بماند و براي ديگ و كارد و چنگال مورد مصرفي نمي شناسد باز هم تصميم گرفته است كه هر وقت برنده شد آنها را هم پس بدهد .

مي ماند خود كفش ها . آنها يا خيلي تنگ هستند و يا خيلي گشاد و دوستان آقاي آتشكان عادت كرده اند كه آقاي آتشكان را در ساعات اداري هميشه مشغول و گرفتار ببينند . پاي لختش را بيرون مي آورد و به آن كه ديگر قلمبه سلمبه شده و از ميخچه و زگيل پوشيده است وازلين مي مالد . گاهي هم يك جعبه پودر تالك را روي آن خالي مي كند و فضاي اتاق را ناگهان غباري سفيد مي پوشاند و آقاي محسني كه حساسيت دارد به عطسه مي افتد . آقاي آتشكان دستمالش را در هوا تكان مي دهد ، ولي براي آقاي محسني ديگر دير شده است . آن وقت همه شروع مي كنند به شمردن عطسه هاي آقاي محسني …

آقاي آتشكان را كجا مي توان پيدا كرد ؟ اين خود سؤالي است . در اداره ؟ گمان نكنم . هيچ كس هنوز درست نمي داند كه اداره ي او كجاست و چيست و يا ، مهم تر از همه ، اين كه واقعاْ اداره اي در كار هست يا نه . در خانه ؟ شما بياييد خودتان امتحان كنيد . شب يا روز ، صبح يا عصر ، تعطيل يا غير تعطيل ، هر وقت خواستيد ، به درِ خانه ي او برويد و زنگ بزنيد . همين حالا ، پيش پاي شما رفته اند بيرون . بقال سر كوچه او را ديده است كه لنگ لنگان ، مثل اين كه در گِل و لاي ، دور مي شود . گاه مي ايستد و گاه به جايي تكيه مي دهد .

پس چه بايد كرد ؟ تكليف من كه مي خواهم او را ببينم چيست ؟ اين مشكل را من به طريق خود حل كرده ام ؛ يك منطق ساده و عملي ، آدمي را كه كفش تنگ يا گشاد بپوشد ، مخصوصاْ اگر پنبه در پاشنه ها و پنجه ي كفش تپانده باشد ، و گشاد گشاد راه برود كجا غير از صف اتوبوس مي توان پيدا كرد ؟

او را در انتهاي صف پيدا كردم . روي يك پا ايستاده بود و پاي ديگرش را مثل پاندول تكان مي داد . دستمالش را در مشت مي فشرد و دستش را آهسته به آنجا كه « پشت » ، نام محترمانه ي خود را از دست مي دهد تا نام محرمانه اي به خود بگيرد مي ماليد . نمي دانم چه مي كرد . شايد بازي .

كت و شلوار خوش دوختي پوشيده بود كه كاملاْ بر اندامش برازنده بود . كراوات سفيدي بسته بود كه جا به جا لكه هاي درشت قرمز داشت . انگار همين الان صاحبش خون دماغ شده است .

من رفتم جلوتر . صف ناآرام بود و مثل مار بي حالي به خود مي پيچيد . از رو به رو ، دختر سياه چرده اي مي خواست از عرض خيابان بگذرد . همين چند لحظه پيش بود كه او را ديدم كه در خيابان « صنيعي » پيش مي آمد . كمي سر چهارراه و بعد به خيابان « انشاد » پيچيد . اين جور شايع بود كه صف ها در خيابان انشاد باريك تر و كم دوام ترند . از دور اتوبوس دو طبقه اي را مي ديدم كه تلوتلو مي خورد و نزديك مي شد ، مثل مستي كه مي خواهد به هر قيمت خودش را به خانه اش برساند . به آنجا كه اعتراض و فرياد در انتظار اوست و زنش پرخاش جو كنار جوي ايستاده است .

دختر سياه چرده از كنار من گذشت . عينك درشت سياهي زده بود و دست هاي پرمويي داشت .

پيش از آن كه به خود بيايم و بتوانم به آقاي آتشكان برسم ماشين صف دراز كج و معوج را بلعيده بود . مثل شعبده بازي كه نوار بلند كاغذ رنگي را مي مكد تا بعد ناگهان گنجشكي از دهان خود بيرون بيندازد .

چيزي روي آسفالت برق مي زد . من نگاه كردم . اتوبوس ، يك لنگه كفش آقاي آتشكان را مثل تفاله اي بيرون انداخته بود .

بهروز سليم احمدآبادي

خودش هم نمي داند چرا احمدآبادي . در شهر « الف » به دنيا آمده است ؛ اما نيامده است ، او را به دنيا آورده اند . اول گفتند خيلي بزرگ است و اين زن با اين جثه ي ضعيف نمي تواند بچه اش را به دنيا بياورد . پس چه بايد كرد ؟ از دست ماما كه كاري برنمي آمد . رفتند متخصص را خبر كردند .

متخصص ، دكتري بود كه تازه از انگلستان آمده بود و خودش را هم به سختي به دنيا آورده بودند . اول سرفه ي خشك و بي صدايي كرد كه خيال مي كرد دليل بر تشخص است ، به خصوص كه به حجم غبغبش هم افزوده مي شد و بعد به دقت زن را معاينه كرد . دستور داد خط كش و گونيا آوردند كه قطر و طول و عرض شكم را اندازه بگيرد و بعد باز سرفه كرد و باد به غبغبش انداخت . همه منتظر بودند .

ــ اين زن با اين جثه ي ضعيف نمي تواند بچه اش را به دنيا بياورد .

ناچار شوهر زن را صدا زدند . او ناآرام و بي صبر ، در راه رو قدم مي زد و گاه ميان راه مي ايستاد و به دوردست خيره مي شد . دوردست ديوار سرد و خشك و خاكستري رنگي بود كه يك پرستار زشت و باتجربه روي آن انگشتش را به دهان گذاشته بود .

شوهر زن را به اتاق راهنمايي كردند . خودش احساس كرد كه دارند هلش مي دهند . او كه در اين لحظه كلاهش را به دست گرفته بود و آن را مي چرخاند بي اختيار به همه تعظيم كرد . چشم هايش دو دو مي زد .

ــ ببينيد ، آقاي سليم ، موقعيت خيلي نااميدانه است ( مدت مديدي از اقامت مجدد آقاي دكتر در ايران نمي گذشت ) شكم اول است ؟

با حوصله توضيح دادند كه مقصود از شكم اول چيست .

ــ بله قربان ، زن اول هم هست .

دكتر متخصص حيرت زده سرش را بلند كرد و كوشيد سرفه كند . اما نتوانست فقط بر حجم غبغبش افزوده شد .

ــ دو تا زن داريد ؟

ــ نه خير قربان ، همين يكي . از كجا اين طور خيال كرديد ؟

دكتر كينه توزانه به او خيره شد و جواب نداد .

ــ حالا بايد چكار كنيم ؟

ــ بالاخره بايد همه دست به دست هم بدهيم و با فورسپس يا سزارين و يا به وسيله ي ديگري بچه را بيرون بياوريم .

آقاي سليم ناگهان كلاهش را به سر گذاشت و به جمع دكترها و ماماها و پرستاران رو كرد :

ــ دستم به دامنتان ! يعني با زور ؟ مي فرماييد او را بايد بيرون كشيد ؟

دكتر باز سرفه كرد ، اما اين بار بر حجم غبغبش افزوده نشد . با حيرت دست به چانه اش كشيد و خشك و رسمي و كمي هم با عصبانيت گفت : نه ! سه بار گفت : نه !

فورسپس گذاشتند ، كسي نيامد . چند مانور زايماني مختلف انجام دادند ، فقط زن فرياد مي كشيد . دست آخر شكمش را پاره كردند و همه با پوزهاي بسته و دستكش هاي نايلوني دورادور تخت او ايستادند . كم كم شروع كردند به وول خوردن . مثل بالرين هاي ناشي ، آهسته و سنگين دور تخت مي چرخيدند . آقاي سليم از پشت شيشه ي نيمه مات با چشم هاي وحشت زده مي ديد كه انگار در ميان مه و غبار ، هيكلي نامأنوس و سفيدپوش چيز بي شكلي را گرفته اند و آن را به طرف خود مي كشند ، يا از دست هم مي قاپند ، يا به هم تعارف مي كنند .

اگر آقاي سليم زياد به سينما مي رفت و از موج نو سر در مي آورد ، مي فهميد كه چشم هايش دارد وقايع آوانگاردي را با حركت كند ضبط مي كند .

كجا بوديم ؟ اين كه بهروز سليم احمدآبادي قد بلندي دارد و موهايش خاكستري است و متولد شهر « الف » است ، اما در شهر « ب » بزرگ شده و در شهر « پ » درس خوانده و اكنون در شهر « ت » زندگي ميكند .

اغلب براي كار به شهر « ث » مي رود و هميشه سر راهش دو شب در شهر « ج » مي ماند ، به اين اميد كه بالاخره يك شب به آنجا برود دنبال عيش ، و تا صبح عرق بخورد و در خيابان ها راه بيفتد و عربده بكشد و آواز كوچه باغي ( آقاي سليم كوچه باغي بد نمي خواند ) بخواند و دست آخر ببرندش كلانتري و ازش تعهد بگيرند … اين رؤياي زندگي اوست ، اما حتي در شهر « ج » هم كه فرسنگ ها با شهر « ت » فاصله دارد ، از زنش مي ترسد . مي ترسد كه ناگهان وسط كار در كلانتري يا خم يك كوچه يا ته يك بن بست ( دخترهاي شهر « ج » اغلب در كوچه هاي بن بست قرار دارند ) سر برسد . زنش مرض رواني دارد .

هر سال ، آقاي احمدآبادي تابستان ها بچه ها را برمي دارد و به شهر « چ » مي برد . زنش با آنها نمي آيد و در شهر خودشان مي ماند . زنش از مسافرت مي ترسد ، فوبي دارد .

وقتي در ماشين نشستند كه به خانه برگردند و اتوبوس به راه افتاد ، بچه ها ( كه ديگر بچه نيستند ) نق نق را شروع مي كنند . كادو نخريديم ، كنار دريا نرفتيم ، رقص نكرديم ، ماشين نداريم ، ويلا نداريم … همه اش با فعل نفي شروع مي شود .

اتوبوس ، ميان راه از شهر « ح » مي گذرد . مي ايستد كه هر كس خواست برود سوهان و مرباي شقاقل بخرد . مرباي شقاقل براي كمر خوب است ، كمر را سفت مي كند . ولي چه فايده ؟ سوهان ها توي دهان آب مي شود ، براي دندان مصنوعي خوب است . درست . ولي چه فايده ؟ كه برود بيفتد روي آن … روي آن … برويم پايين ، چيزي براي مامان بخريم . طفلكي مامان ! تنها توي آن خانه ي لعنتي … ديگر عقش مي نشيند ، شما برويد . فقط مواظب باشيد دير نكنيد . آقا ! مگر شما پياده نمي شويد ؟ اينجا شهر « ح » است . مي دانم ، فقط اجازه بدهيد بخوابم . لااقل اينجا كمي بخوابم …

شهر « ح » را هم پشت سر مي گذارند .

تلق … تلق … تلق ! بچه ها بزرگ شده اند و مي خواهند بروند دانشگاه ( كنكور ) و خارجه ( پول ) و شوهر مي خواهند و هوشنگ سليم احمدآبادي تازگي ها يك گرل فرند پيدا كرده است ( منيژه ) و پول توجيبي مي خواهد ، بيش تر مي خواهد ، و مي خواهند دوتايي فرار كنند …

رسيديم . رسيديم به شهر « ت » . پياده شويد !

لابد در شهر « خ » هم خواهد مرد .

كريم

شهرام كريم . سي و پنج ساله . قد … چشم ها … وزن … رنگ موها … تحصيلات … قد ، چشم ها ، وزن ، رنگ موها ، تحصيلات .

محتويات جيب هاي آقاي كريم :

1- پاشنه كش

دراز و زرد رنگ .

واقعاْ اين درست است كه جد بزرگ آقاي كريم اين پاشنه كش را از عشق آباد خريده بوده كه به حاجي صمد هديه بدهد ؟ اين مسأله تا به امروز حل نشده است و آقاي كريم كه به كتاب هاي پليسي علاقه ي فراواني دارد ، يك روز تصميم گرفت اين راز را با توسل به شيوه هاي كارآگاهي … ( ولي قرار ما اين نيست كه جمله پردازي كنيم .)

مادر ! چيزي يادت مي آيد ؟ خوب ، يك چيزهايي . پدرت خدابيامرز وقتي ده ساله بود و شاگرد پدرش بود يك روز مي رود توي پستوي دكان و آنجا قباي پدرش را مي بيند كه گوشه اي مچاله شده است . دست مي كند تو جيب قبا و اين پاشنه كش را پيدا مي كند . آن را برمي دارد ، بهتر بگويم مي دزدد . بعد كتك مفصلي هم مي خورد ، با تعليمي . ولي مادر ! من خيال مي كردم ( كجا شنيده بودم ؟ ) كه پاشنه كش مال جد مادري من است . پدر من ؟ يعني مي گويي پدر من پاشنه كش داشته باشد ؟ …

مادر به گريه افتاد و هيچ كدام از شيوه هاي معمول كارآگاهي نتوانست معلوم كند كه بالاخره جد مادري شهرام پاشنه كش را از عشق آباد خريده است يا جد پدريش . اما يك نكته مسلم بود ؛ جد بزرگ او وقتي از عشق آباد برمي گردد در خانه اش سور مي دهد . ابول جارچي از صبح زود با دهل و نقاره در كوچه هاي ده راه مي افتد و جار مي زند . پسرش ، پابرهنه و با چشم هاي تراخمي ، دنبالش مي دود . انبوه مگس ها دور سر كچلش هاله اي از صدا ساخته اند كه به نظر مي آيد مثل هاله ي سرهاي قديسين ابدي باشد .

خانه ي بزرگ جد بزرگ پر مي شود . سبيل به سبيل . همه چهارزانو نشسته اند و بفهمي نفهمي يكديگر را محترمانه هل مي دهند . معلوم نيست با اين فضاي كم ، تكليف كسي كه باد در دلش بپيچد چيست . به هر حال هر كس راه حل خودش را دارد . سبيل به سبيل . چاي و شيريني و ميوه و قليان . تازه وارد ، همه با هم بلند مي شوند . دولا و راست مي شوند و مي نشينند . ياالله ! باز بلند مي شوند . تازه وارد مي گويد : ياالله ، مي نشيند . صداي قليان . خوب مي فرموديد ! بله ، هنوز سوار نشده بوديم كه … الله اكبر ! چه قيامتي ، چه محشري ! جد بزرگ رويش را به حاج صمد مي كند و مي گويد :

ــ حاجي برايتان چيزي آورده ام .

حاجي پاشنه كش را مي گيرد ، اما تشكر نمي كند . پاشنه كش دست به دست مي گردد . طلا است ؟ نه ، آب طلا است . ولي باور كنيد بعينه كه طلا است ! بفرماييد حاجي مبارك باشد !

حاجي صمد پاشنه كش را مي گيرد ، آن را كمي سبك سنگين مي كند و بعد هل مي دهد در جيب آرخالقش . همان وقت است يا كمي بعد يا جلوتر از آن كه جد بزرگ تفنگش را نشانه مي رود و جمعيت ناگهان به خود مي آيد ؟ جد بزرگ روي مخده نيم خيز شده و دستش را گذاشته است روي متكاي بزرگ قرمز رنگ و حاج صمد با چشم هاي متعجب و بي حركت روي قالي ولو شده است .

جد بزرگ آهسته تفنگش را مي گذارد كنار دستش . آنها كه نزديك تر نشسته اند شنيده اند كه مي گويد : « خون حاج صمد زياد هم قرمز نيست ، همين را مي خواستم بفهمم . »

ولي مادر ، تكليف پاشنه كش چه مي شود ؟ چه طور دوباره به دست ما مي افتد ؟ خوب مي گويند پسر حاج صمد آن را به يك درويش غريبه مي فروشد ، غريبه و ديوانه و درويش … آه ! آه ! آه !

شهرام كلافه شده بود . قلبش به تندي مي زد . فرياد بلندي كشيد و همه ي كتاب هايش را ( اول پليسي ها را ) به هم ريخت و روي آنها لگد زد و بعد گوشه اي نشست و سرش را ميان دست هايش گرفت ، آن را مثل هندوانه ي نارس فشار داد … مادرش بي سر و صدا گريه مي كرد .

شهرام تا چند روز با هيچ كس حرف نمي زد ، اما بعدها اغلب فراموش مي كرد كه حتي پاشنه كش زرد درازي هم در جيب دارد .

2- شانه

شهرام اين شانه ي بزرگ دانه درشت آبي رنگ را كه معمولاْ زن هاي تازه به دوران رسيده ي دهاتي به دست مي گيرند در جيب بغلش مي گذاشت ( راست يا چپ ؟ ) . جيب بغلش باد مي كرد و سرِ شانه از آن بيرون مي زد و شهرام هميشه مواظب بود كه دولا نشود يا كتش را در نياورد يا حركت تندي نكند ، شانه مي افتد .

آن روز كه با « او » قرار داشت بعد از ظهر بود . نيم ساعت زودتر به كافه رفت . پنكه ي سقفي ، خسته و بي ميل دور خود مي چرخيد ، مثل رقاصه ي نيمه خوابي كه هنوز مجبور است براي تنها مشتري مست آخر شب برقصد . كافه نيمه تاريك بود …

چه ميل داريد ؟ چه بگويد ، حالا چه كنم ، تجربه … تجربه … اين همان چيزي است كه لازم است و همان چيزي است كه من ندارم . تجربه در ديدار ، در قرار گذاشتن ، و در ادامه ي دوستي …

بار اول بود كه با يك « او » آشنا شده بود ؛ در يك مهماني غم انگيز و سوت و كور ، و بر حسب تصادف كسي اشتباهاْ « او » را معرفي كرده بود . و اولين بار بود كه طبق معمول قرار كافه اي گذاشته بودند .

اما بعد از اين ؟ كتاب هاي پليسي كمكي نمي كردند . گارسون كافه گوشه اي چرت مي زد و صندلي ها در سكوت و خلوت بعد از ظهر خستگي در مي كردند . صندلي شهرام گاه صدا مي كرد ، صدايي زير و كشيده شبيه به اعتراض كسي كه نمي داند چرا بر خلاف همكارانش باز هم بايد بار را تحمل كند و گاه در سكوت كامل فرو مي رفت ، سكوت كسي كه بالاخره تسليم مي شود .

شهرام نيم خيز شد كه به ساعت ديواري كافه نگاه كند . ناگهان شانه ي دراز دانه درشت آبي رنگ روي موزاييك ها افتاد و غلتيد و درنگ صدا كرد . گارسون از خواب پر رؤيايش پريد . با خشم به شهرام نگاه كرد … آخر كسي تازه دست به جيب برده بود كه به او انعام بدهد !

بايد آن را بردارم و در جيب بگذارم و به گارسون بگويم كه آماده باشد . تا او نيامده است آن را بردارم . بگويم آماده باشد كه هر وقت او آمد ديگر چرت نزند . بعد شايد او را به سينما دعوت كنم و اگر او قبول نكند و اگر بخواهد كه بيايد اتاقم را ببيند و اگر او بپرسد كه در ماه چقدر حقوق دارم و اگر او بخواهد كه برويم برقصيم و اگر ناگهان او چشم هايش را در چشم هايم بدراند و بگويد براي چه با من قرار گذاشتي و اگر او بخواهد كه برايش توضيح بدهم كه نسبت به او چه احساسي داريم و اگر او … او … او … عو … عو … عو … عوعوعوعوعو …

3- جعبه

جعبه يا قوطي . در جيب راست بغل ( يا چپ ؟ ) .

شهرام هر روز صبح اين جعبه را باز مي كرد ، روي تختخوابش دراز مي كشيد ، مدتي هيچ كار نمي كرد .

مي بينيد كه اين عبارت را مي توان به سه جزء تقسيم كرد و هر جزء را توضيح داد : جعبه را باز مي كرد . اما نه به همين سادگي و شايد هم به همين سادگي .

اگر به خاطر بازكردن جعبه نبود كه شهرام هيچ وقت صبح سحر بيدار نمي شد و از جا نمي جست و صورتش را هيچ وقت با آن دقت نمي شست و سجاده اي را كه ديگران براي نماز پهن مي كنند با صفاي يك زاهد بر روي گلهاي قالي نمي گسترد و لب پنجره نمي رفت كه يك دم چشم ها را ببندد ، از خود بي خود شود و نفس عميق بكشد و برنمي گشت و كنار سجاده ي قديمي كه از مادرش به يادگار مانده بود زانو نمي زد و ابلهانه به جعبه ي كوچك بي قواره خيره نمي شد و بعد از آن شاخه هاي سبز عود را نمي سوزاند و دو شمع گچي عبيرآگين را كه در شمعدان هاي بلند نقره ( يادگار پدرش ؟ ) بق زده و خودشان را كثيف كرده بودند نمي افروخت و دستش را به آرامي و ملايمت بر روي جعبه نمي لغزاند و با دست ديگر چشم هايش را كه به سوز افتاده بود فشار نمي داد و منتظر آن صدا نمي ماند .

صدايي نامحسوس برخاست و در جعبه باز شد .

شهرام آن را از كنار سجاده برداشت و از روي قالي بلند شد .

روي تختخوابش دراز مي كشيد . شهرام هر روز صبح اين جعبه را باز مي كرد و روي تختخوابش دراز مي كشيد .

انگار موسيقي ملايمي مي خواست اتاق را پُر كند . يك موسيقي تند و گنگ ، شيرين و خاموش ، پرطنين و بي صدا . از كجا مي آمد ، از سقف ، از كنار در ، از آن گوشه ، توي آن سوراخ كه شب پيش موش ها در آن ضيافتي داشتند ، يا از اتاق بغلي ، از دهان بي دندان پيرمرد همسايه و يا از ريشه هاي جاروي رفتگري كه سرفه مي كرد و فحش مي داد و اخ و تف به زمين مي انداخت و مي روفت ، و مي روفت و مي روفت . و يا از همهمه ي خفه ي شهر و يا از غرش ناگهاني و سمج موتور خسته ي ماشين باري كهنه اي كه هر نيمه شب آن را كنار خيابان مي گذاشتند و راننده اش از بيابان ها مي آمد … ملايم ، ملايم و همراه با قطره هاي اشكي در چشم هايش كه هيچ وقت فرو نمي ريخت . گاهي شهرام فكر مي كرد نكند چشم هايش مرضي دارد كه نمي تواند گريه بسازد .

آن وقت جعبه را مي گذاشت روي شكمش و بار ديگر ابلهانه به آن خيره مي شد . توي آن را مرتب و منظم مي كرد و درش را مي بست . درق ! بعد از آنها خواهش مي كرد كه بيايند تو و بنشينند .

… بعضي روزها يكي يكي مي آمدند . مي رقصيدند ، شكلك در مي آوردند و بعد مي رفتند . بعضي روزها ديگر نمي رفتند و بعضي روزها اصلاْ نمي آمدند .

اگر نمي رفتند شهرام مجبور بود آن روز را نرود سر كار . نمي توانست . بايد با آنها سر و كله بزند ، كلنجار برود ، به خودش بپيچد و با هر كدام گلاويز شود . غروب ، پيرزن همسايه در اتاق را مي زد و برايش چاي مي آورد و در و پنجره ها را باز مي كرد و شمعدان ها را مي گذاشت روي كمد و آب مي آورد كه او صورتش كه عرق كرده بود و دهانش را كه كف كرده بود بشويد . بعد شهرام تشكر مي كرد و از خانه مي رفت بيرون .

سبك شده بود . و چند خميازه مي كشيد . هواي تازه و غبارآلود و پردوده ي خيابان حالش را جا مي آورد . وقتي خميازه مي كشيد مي دانست كه ديگر آنها رفته اند و مي تواند برود عرق بخورد .

اگر نمي آمدند شهرام مجبور بود آن روز را نرود سر كار . نمي توانست . شايد به اتوبوس نرسيده اند .

شايد هنوز در صف وول مي خورند .

ولي ، هنوز اول صبح است ، تا بلند شوم اتاق را مرتب كنم و بعد بروم بيرون توي بقالي تلفن بزنم كه امروز نمي توانم بيايم و يك شير كوچك با كمي پنير بگيرم و برگردم …

شايد تاكسي هم گيرشان نيامده است .

شايد پياده راه افتاده اند .

… برگردم … بايد زود برگردم و در اتاق را باز بگذارم و به همسايه بگويم گوش به زنگ باشد و بنا كنم لباس هايم را اتو بزنم .

نكند ديگر نمي خواهند بيايند ؟

نكند از من دلخور شده اند ؟

شهرام در صندلي راحتي كهنه ي خود فرو رفته بود ، پاهاش را دراز كرده بود ، چانه اش را در دست داشت و با انگشتش روي لبه ي صندلي ضرب مي گرفت و سرش را رو به بالا تكيه داده بود و اتاق را مرتب مي كرد و به دوستش تلفن مي زد و نان و پنير مي خورد و شير را كه مانده بود و بوي زهم مي داد توي دست شويي مي ريخت و لباس هايش را كپه مي كرد كه اتو بزند .

نزديك ظهر ، شهرام لباس هايش را مي پوشيد . پاشنه كش و شانه و جعبه را در جيب هايش مي گذاشت و مي رفت بيرون . از اتاق خود ، در خانه ي شماره 555 مي رفت بيرون .

شماييد ؟ خدانكرده كسالتي ، چيزي … امروز نرفته ايد سر كار ؟ سيگار اشنو طلايي نداريم ، ويژه بدهم ؟ آقا ، مواظب راه رفتنشان باشيد ! چرا تنه مي زنيد ؟ ببخشيد متوجه نبودم . چهارشنبه روز خوشبختي آقا ، از خط كشي عبور كنيد ، با دو تومان ، آقا ، آدامس بدهم ؟ يك آدامس از من بخريد ، چي مي خوريد ، قربان ؟ يك كباب سلطاني اضافه ؟ ولي شما كه قبلي ها را هم نخورده ايد ، بقيه ي پولتان ، گذاشت رفت ! بله پنج دقيقه ي ديگر شروع مي شود ، چه ساندويچي بدهم ؟ آقا ، ساندويچتان را نمي خواهيد ؟ آقاي محترم ، اين قدر وول نخوريد ، فكر پشت سري ها هم باشيد ، مي گذاشتيد تمام مي شد مي رفتيد بيرون ، سلطانيه ؟ نه ؟ خيلي خوب ، مثل هر شب ، دو تا پنج سيري ؟ گوجه نه ؟ خيارشور ، كجا قربان ؟ حالتان خوب نيست ؟ پول خُرد نداشتيد ؟ مي خواهيد كمكتان كنم ؟ زنگ را برايتان بزنم ، بفرماييد ، چند دفعه خواهش كرديم زودتر بياييد ، آخر خدا را خوش نمي آيد ، سر و صدا نكنيد . مريض داريم .

فرموديد مريض داريد ؟ نه ، نه ، فردا ديگر لازم نيست صدايم بزنيد . صدايم نزنيد .

تاريكي .

تاريكي .

كليد برق كجاست ؟ ولش ! مدتي بايد بگذرد تا چشم به تاريكي عادت كند . اگر كسي تا سحر چشم هايش باز باشد ديگر احتياجي به چراغ ندارد ، همه جا را خواهد ديد . شمع ها . آنها هم تا ته سوخته اند . همه جا را خواهم ديد . لبه ي تخت يا لبه ي صندلي چه فرق مي كند ؟ بالاخره بايد جايي بنشينم و آنها را ببينم . آرام ، آرام ، براي اين كه برنگردانم . در كدام جيب بود ؟ جيب چپ ؟ ( صداي خفه و گنگي بلند شد ) . افتاد ! با پا آن را كنار مي زنم . ( آن را كشاند زير تخت ) . بگذار دندانه هايش بشكند . در كدام جيبم بود ، راست ؟ ( در دستش بود ) . همه جا را مي بينم ( صداي ناله ي منقطع و مضحك بيمار همسايه … صداي شير آب ) . حالا ليوان پر شد . يكي يكي . خالي شد . ديگر بيندازمش دور ( تاريكي ) .

با ما بوديد ؟ ما را صدا زديد ؟ شما بوديد ؟ آقا ، كار داشتيد ؟ آقا ، چيزي لازم داشتيد ؟ با ما بوديد ؟ شما بوديد صدا مي كرديد ؟ با ما بوديد ؟ …

شما ، با ما ، شما ، با ما .

تاريكي .

ــ مدتي هيچ كار نمي كرد ــ جزء آخر عبارت ما : حالا ديگر كامل شد . شهرام هر روز صبح اين جعبه را باز مي كرد ، روي تختخوابش دراز مي كشيد و مدتي هيچ كار نمي كرد . شهرام هيچ وقت هيچ كاري نمي كرد .

سبك شده بود . و چند خميازه مي كشيد . هواي تازه و غبارآلود و پردوده ي خيابان حالش را جا مي آورد . وقتي خميازه مي كشيد مي دانست كه ديگر آنها رفته اند و مي تواند برود عرق بخورد .

اگر نمي آمدند شهرام مجبور بود آن روز را نرود سر كار . نمي توانست . شايد به اتوبوس نرسيده اند .

شايد هنوز در صف وول مي خورند .

ولي ، هنوز اول صبح است ، تا بلند شوم اتاق را مرتب كنم و بعد بروم بيرون توي بقالي تلفن بزنم كه امروز نمي توانم بيايم و يك شير كوچك با كمي پنير بگيرم و برگردم …

شايد تاكسي هم گيرشان نيامده است .

شايد پياده راه افتاده اند .

… برگردم … بايد زود برگردم و در اتاق را باز بگذارم و به همسايه بگويم گوش به زنگ باشد و بنا كنم لباس هايم را اتو بزنم .

نكند ديگر نمي خواهند بيايند ؟

نكند از من دلخور شده اند ؟

شهرام در صندلي راحتي كهنه ي خود فرو رفته بود ، پاهاش را دراز كرده بود ، چانه اش را در دست داشت و با انگشتش روي لبه ي صندلي ضرب مي گرفت و سرش را رو به بالا تكيه داده بود و اتاق را مرتب مي كرد و به دوستش تلفن مي زد و نان و پنير مي خورد و شير را كه مانده بود و بوي زهم مي داد توي دست شويي مي ريخت و لباس هايش را كپه مي كرد كه اتو بزند .

نزديك ظهر ، شهرام لباس هايش را مي پوشيد . پاشنه كش و شانه و جعبه را در جيب هايش مي گذاشت و مي رفت بيرون . از اتاق خود ، در خانه ي شماره 555 مي رفت بيرون .

شماييد ؟ خدانكرده كسالتي ، چيزي … امروز نرفته ايد سر كار ؟ سيگار اشنو طلايي نداريم ، ويژه بدهم ؟ آقا ، مواظب راه رفتنشان باشيد ! چرا تنه مي زنيد ؟ ببخشيد متوجه نبودم . چهارشنبه روز خوشبختي آقا ، از خط كشي عبور كنيد ، با دو تومان ، آقا ، آدامس بدهم ؟ يك آدامس از من بخريد ، چي مي خوريد ، قربان ؟ يك كباب سلطاني اضافه ؟ ولي شما كه قبلي ها را هم نخورده ايد ، بقيه ي پولتان ، گذاشت رفت ! بله پنج دقيقه ي ديگر شروع مي شود ، چه ساندويچي بدهم ؟ آقا ، ساندويچتان را نمي خواهيد ؟ آقاي محترم ، اين قدر وول نخوريد ، فكر پشت سري ها هم باشيد ، مي گذاشتيد تمام مي شد مي رفتيد بيرون ، سلطانيه ؟ نه ؟ خيلي خوب ، مثل هر شب ، دو تا پنج سيري ؟ گوجه نه ؟ خيارشور ، كجا قربان ؟ حالتان خوب نيست ؟ پول خُرد نداشتيد ؟ مي خواهيد كمكتان كنم ؟ زنگ را برايتان بزنم ، بفرماييد ، چند دفعه خواهش كرديم زودتر بياييد ، آخر خدا را خوش نمي آيد ، سر و صدا نكنيد . مريض داريم .

فرموديد مريض داريد ؟ نه ، نه ، فردا ديگر لازم نيست صدايم بزنيد . صدايم نزنيد .

تاريكي .

تاريكي .

كليد برق كجاست ؟ ولش ! مدتي بايد بگذرد تا چشم به تاريكي عادت كند . اگر كسي تا سحر چشم هايش باز باشد ديگر احتياجي به چراغ ندارد ، همه جا را خواهد ديد . شمع ها . آنها هم تا ته سوخته اند . همه جا را خواهم ديد . لبه ي تخت يا لبه ي صندلي چه فرق مي كند ؟ بالاخره بايد جايي بنشينم و آنها را ببينم . آرام ، آرام ، براي اين كه برنگردانم . در كدام جيب بود ؟ جيب چپ ؟ ( صداي خفه و گنگي بلند شد ) . افتاد ! با پا آن را كنار مي زنم . ( آن را كشاند زير تخت ) . بگذار دندانه هايش بشكند . در كدام جيبم بود ، راست ؟ ( در دستش بود ) . همه جا را مي بينم ( صداي ناله ي منقطع و مضحك بيمار همسايه … صداي شير آب ) . حالا ليوان پر شد . يكي يكي . خالي شد . ديگر بيندازمش دور ( تاريكي ) .

با ما بوديد ؟ ما را صدا زديد ؟ شما بوديد ؟ آقا ، كار داشتيد ؟ آقا ، چيزي لازم داشتيد ؟ با ما بوديد ؟ شما بوديد صدا مي كرديد ؟ با ما بوديد ؟ …

شما ، با ما ، شما ، با ما .

تاريكي .

ــ مدتي هيچ كار نمي كرد ــ جزء آخر عبارت ما : حالا ديگر كامل شد . شهرام هر روز صبح اين جعبه را باز مي كرد ، روي تختخوابش دراز مي كشيد و مدتي هيچ كار نمي كرد . شهرام هيچ وقت هيچ كاري نمي كرد .

در جشن هزاره فردوسي كه به سال 1313 شمسي برگزار شد، سخن شناسان، نويسندگان و متفكران بزرگ ايران و جهان شركت داستند. به نظر همه اين بزرگان، شاهنامه فردوسي در رديف سه مجموعه بزرگ آثار ادبي جهان، يعني ايلياد "هومر" ،كمدي الهي "دانته" و مجموعه آثار"شكسپير" قرار گرفت و چهارمين اثر بزرگ جهاني شناخته شد.

يكي از شركت كنندگان در اين مراسم، پروفسور "برتلس" داشمند بزرگ روسي بود. همو كه شاهنامه چاپ مسكو با همت و كوشش او فراهم آمده و به جهانيان عرضه شده است . اين دانشمند بزرگ مي‌گويد: "مادامي كه در جهان، مفهوم ايران و ايراني وجود داشته باشد، نام پر افتخار شاعر بزرگ، فردوسي هم جاويد خواهد ماند. چرا كه فردوسي تمام عشق سوزان خود را وقف سربلندي وطن خود ايران كرد. اين حكيم دانشمند، شاهنامه را با خون دل نوشت و با اين بهاي گران، خريدار احترام و محبت ملت ايران و همه مردم جهان گرديد."

فردوسي، تاريخ و افسانه و انديشه‌هاي بلند را در هم آميخت و كتابي فراهم آورد كه به قول خودش كاخي بلند و بي‌گزند است. در ميان تمامي شاهنامه، داستانهاي آن موثر‌تر، باارزش‌تر و دلنشين‌تر از قسمتهاي تاريخي آن است. باز به گفته اكثريت سخن شناسان و نويسندگان، در ميان اين داستانها، چند داستان از همه با شكوهتر و بي‌نظيرتر است.

داستان ضحاك و فريدون – داستان زال، رودابه و رستم – داستان سياوش – داستان سهراب و داستان رستم و اسفنديار از اين جمله است.

در اين داستانها عناصري همچون، پيام، در ونمايه و شخصيت، آنچنان بزرگ و جاوداني است كه به زمان و مكان محدود نمي‌شود و در هر دوره و هر مكاني، تازه، نو و گيرا است. اين آثار از نظر داستاني به جديدترين تكنيكها و شيوه‌هاي داستان‌سرايي پهلو مي‌زند و توصيف‌ها و تعابير آنچنان استادانه است كه تا ابد جاويد و ماندگار خواهد بود.

فرماليست‌ها

زبان شناسي ساختاري كوشيده است با بي‌توجهي به معناي گزاره‌ها توجه خو را به سازه‌هاي زبان معطوف نمايد. در سبك شناسي ساختاري نيز، معنا به تنهايي هيچ ويژگي ادبي ندارد، اين ريخت و شكل اثر است كه ادبيات آن را موجب مي‌شود. از اين رو در بحث سبك شناسي ساختارگرا ما با اين اصلي‌ترين پيشنهاد فرماليست‌هاي روسي، به صورت كمينه محتوا مواجه مي‌شويم. «‌ظرايف عاطفي كه به پيامي كاملاً خبري لحني مي‌بخشد موضوع سبك شناسي (ساختارگرا) خواهد بود. به عبارت ديگر محتواي سبك شناختي تتمه‌اي است ذهني و متغير با گوينده كه به خبر خنثي و ثابت پيامي مي‌افزايد، به اين ترتيب ما با يافتن مثلاً حدود 50 شاهد مثال از دو شاعر، مثل حافظ و منوچهري (از دو دوره متفاوت، به طوري كه اين 50 شاهد، معناي نهايي يكساني داشته باشند، بايد قادر باشيم، پاره‌اي از ويژگي‌هاي سبك شناختي اين دو شاعر را بروز دهيم. شايد كمينه محتوا را بتوان با احتياط ژرف ساخت و ويژگي‌هاي سبك شناختي اعمال شده بر آن را، گشتارهايي از آن كمينه محتوا ناميد. او همان گفته است: «چيزي كه ما آن را بدل‌هاي گشتاري مي‌خوانيم، فرايندهاي گوناگون همان جمله‌هاي هسته‌اي زبان همگاني است. مفهوم سبك ايجاب مي‌كند كه براي بيان يك محتوا طرزهاي گوناگون بيابند.» پيش از اين سوسور گفته بود كه در زبان تنها تمايز وجود دارد؛ چنين تمايزي را مي‌توان در گشتارهايي متفاوت از يك كمينه محتوايي مشاهده كرد.

اما نشانه‌هاي ويژه هر متن ادبي، از جهتي ديگر نيز يادآور بحث فرماليست‌ها در مورد آشنايي زدايي است.

زبان روزانه به طور ناخودآگاه از استعاره و مجاز سود مي‌جويد. يعني آن عناصري كه ياكوبسن آن را قطب‌هاي "زبان پريشي" و البته زبان ادبي مي‌داند.

متون ادبي، آگاهانه، استعاره و مجاز را به كار مي‌گيرند. اين دو قطب موجب پريشاني زبان مي‌شود، اما كثرت تداول، به خصوص در زبان عملي، رنگ ديگر گونه آن را مي‌زدايد.

ديگر كسي از جمله «فلاني عجب شيري است» وادار به تفكر و درنگ نمي‌شود؛ رند حافظ بر اثر كثرت استعال رنگ ديگر گونه خويش را از دست داده است. در نظريه اطلاعات، بسامد بالاي يك واژه يا يك خبر از ميزان تاثيرگذاري آن مي‌كاهد. به همين دليل مفهوم آشنازدايي يا فرآيند بيگانه سازي در آثار فرماليست‌ها و به خصوص ويكتور شكلوفسكي معنايي بس گسترده داشته تمام شگردها و فنوني را در برمي‌گيرد كه مولف آگاهانه از آنها سود مي‌جويد، تا جهان درون متن را براي مخاطب بيگانه بنمايد. وظيفه هنر و ادبيات در آن است كه دركي ديگر گونه از اشيا و اموري كه زنگ عادات بشري بر آنها نشسته است، به ما بدهد.

شكلوفسكي به صراحت گفته بود: « هدف هنر احساس مستقيم و بي‌واسطه اشيا است، بدان گونه كه به ادراك حسي در مي‌آيند، نه آن گونه كه شناخته شده و مالوفند. تكنيك هنري عبارت است از آشنا زدايي از موضوعات، دشوار كردن قالب‌ها، افزايش دشواري و مدت زمان ادراك حسي». از همين جا مي‌توان به دشواري‌هاي متن‌هاي ادبي نوين و ادبيات شگرف پي‌برد. چنين آثاري كوشيده‌اند به ياري رمزگاني ويژه، جهاني يكسره شخصي بيافرينند، جهاني نه چندان آشنا با اذهان معتاد به توصيفات آشنا. دشواري حافظ، خاقاني، صائب، بيدل، هدايت، جويس، فاكند، پروست، ويرجينا ولف و كافكا در همين نكته نهفته است كه آنها مي‌كوشند درك ما را از جها ديگرگون كنند. ژاك درايدا گفته است: « هر چيز را كه تاكنون آشكار و حاضر دانسته‌ايم با فاصله بشناسيم و در خواندن هر متني شالوده آن را آگاهانه بشكنيم.» البته در اين ديدگاه همواره رويكردي به تاريخ ادبي نهفته است. اما بر رند حافظ غبار آشنايي و الفت نشسته است، اما در زمان خود بي‌شك مفهومي بود كه در ذهن مخاطب ايجاد آشنازدايي كرده و لذت كشف را مهيا مي‌نمود. اما بايد دانست، آشنازدايي، هم چند در ادبيات به گونه‌اي همه جانبه با فرماليتها آغاز شد، اما با اين مفهوم، در فرهنگ بشري، بسي ديرتر، در تفكرات هندي و بودايي رخ نموده است.

منبع: http://www.lifeofthought.com

معناي برقراري ارتباط در متن ادبي يا اثر هنري ـ به نسبت زبان روزانه ـ بايد به گونه‌اي ديگر معنا شود.هر ارتباطي حداقل بايد به سه جزء فرستنده، گيرنده و پيام استوار است، اما رومن ياكوبسن زبانشناس و منتقد ساخت گرا ـ هرگونه ارتباط زباني را داراي 6 جزء مي‌داند. فرستنده پيامي را براي مخاطب مي‌فرستند. اين پيام، براي آن كه گوينده آن را بهتر درك كند، به سه جزء ديگر يعني زمينه تماس و نشانه احتياج دارد.

زمينه

پيام

گوينده ـــــــــــــــ مخاطب

تماس

نشانه

اين شش جزء خود، شش كاركرد را در زبان موجب مي‌شود.

ارجاعي

شعري ( ادبي )

عاطفي كلامي ( باب سخن گشايي ) كنشي

فرازباني

در هر ارتباط زباني، يكي از اين كاركردها بر ديگر كاركردها برتري مي‌يابد. در جملات امري يا ندايي تاكيد بر كاركرد كنشي است. اكثر پيامدهاي زباني، بر كاركرد ارجاعي (زمينه) استوار هستند، كه آن خود نظامي است مشتمل بر مدلول‌هاي آشنا. اما خود نظامي است مشتمل بر مدلول‌هاي آشنا. اما آن جا كه خود پيام كانون توجه ارتباط كلامي باشد، با كاركرد ادبي و شعري مواجه هستيم. بر يافتن كاركرد ادبي، مرز بين سخن ادبي و غيره از آن را آشكار كنيم. او خود معتقد است كه زبان شناسي به تنهايي نمي‌تواند وارد حيطه نقد ادبي شود، بلكه بايد جزء مكملي، به نام شعر شناسي، براي آن قايل شد. بنابراين، در متن ادبي هر شش جزء ارتباط وجود دارد، اما ارتباط به سوي زمينه‌اي در خود ميل مي‌كند و همين امر موجب ايهام اساسي شعر مي‌شود. اومبر تواكو، نشانه شناس ايتاليايي، اين سويه مبهم را نتيجه گشودگي دلالت معنايي اثر هنري دانسته است. شاعر بيش از وضوح پيام (كاركرد ارجاعي) بر ابهام آن (كاركرد ادبي) متكي است. اصولاً كاركرد ادبي پيام، معنا را نهان مي‌سازد. زبان علمي در خدمت برقراري سع الوصول ارتباط است. حال آن كه زبان ادبي، به عكس مي‌كوشد، در امر ارتباط سهل الوصول اختلال ايجاد كند. اين چنين متني به ارتباط نمي‌انديشد، تنها از ما مي‌خواهد، جهان را به گونه‌اي متفاوت ببينيم.

منبع: http://www.lifeofthought.com/

نجفی: شاملو شاعر بزرگی است اما متجم خوبی نیست

ابوالحسن نجفی با اینکه شاملو را بزرگترین شاعر ایران می داند اما معتقد است او اصلاً مترجم خوبی نیست و کتاب شازده کوچولو را نیز بد ترجمه کرده است.

خبرگزاري ميراث فرهنگي _ کتاب_ نشست بررسي کتاب "شازده کوچولو" اثر "آنتوان دو سنت اگزو پري" با حضور "ابوالحسن نجفي" مترجم ، "بهمن نامور مطلق" پژوهشگر و دبير فرهنگستان هنر ، "سيما وزير نيا" نويسنده و پژوهشگر در حوزه ادبيات ، "شهرام اقبال زاده" نويسنده و عضو انجمن نويسندگان کتاب کودک و نوجوان و جمعي از علاقه مندان ديروز در شهر کتاب برگزار شد.

در اين نشست "شهرام اقبال زاده" به شمار و کيفيت ترجمه هايي که از کتاب شازده کوچولو در ايران منتشر شده، اشاره کرد و گفت:« ظاهراً در ايران تنها کافي است کسي به يک زبان خارجي آشنا باشد تا از سر تفنن و يا دستيابي به نام، کتابي را ترجمه کند. در اين زمينه ديوار ادبيات کودک و نوجوان از همه کوتاهتر است.»

او انتخاب سياق مناسب را براي ترجمه ضروري دانست و افزود:« مترجم، همزمان با کشف سبک نويسنده بايد دو اصل محوري را رعايت کند؛ اول، محور جانشيني يعني محوري که در آن واژگان در زنجيره اي نوشتاري جايگزين همديگر مي شوند. دوم، محور همنشيني يعني محوري که در آن عناصر واژگاني با نظمي خاص کنار يکديگر قرار مي گيرند.»

"اقبال زاده " گفت : « کتاب "شازده کوچولو" تاکنون 16 بار به فارسي ترجمه شده است.»
"بهمن نامور مطلق" که عنوان تز دکتريش "خيال پردازي عرفاني نزد مولانا و اگزوپري" است در سخناني با اشاره به زندگي سنت اگزوپري گفت:« او در دسته بندي هاي سياسي قرار نمي گرفت ؛ نه مارشال دوگل را به عنوان نماينده فرانسه مي پذيرفت و نه پتن را يک خائن مي دانست. به همين سبب برخي او را يک فاشيست ناميده اند. تنها خوشبختي او به قول خودش، داشتن يک مادر فداکار و شغل خلباني اش بود. او خود را بسيار متعلق به دوران کودکي مي داند و معتقد است که پس از گذشت اين دوران ديگر زندگي نکرده است.»

نامور مطلق به چگونگي شکل گيري کتاب شازده کوچولو اشاره کرد و گفت:« سنت اگزوپري در نوشتن اين کتاب از کتابهاي ديگري متاثر بوده است از جمله "بابي شوپ؛ پسر کوچک" نوشته "کريستين دورام" و نيز "شنل قرمزي". موضوع کتاب اگزوپري، دور باطل است و نقش تصوير در اين کتاب بسيار اساسي است. به اين دليل که نويسنده و نقاش اين کتاب يک نفر است و اينکه نقاشي و کلام با يکديگر در ارتباط هستند.»

او با اشاره به وجه نمادين شازده کوچولو گفت:« شازده کوچولو از برجسته ترين آثار نمادين محسوب مي شود و زبان نمادين کتاب موجب مي شود که اثر از لايه هاي نمادين و به صورتهاي متعدد و توسط مخاطب باز آفريني شود. در واقع اثر اجازه مي دهد که مخاطب فعال باشد و برداشت آزاد خود را از آن داشته باشد.»

"نامور مطلق" کتاب شازده کوچولو را داراي رويکردي اسطوره اي دانست و افزود:« اين کتاب به چند دليل داراي رويکرد اسطوه اي است. نخست به اين دليل که مسائل هستي شناسي را مورد بررسي قرار مي دهد، دوم به دليل اينکه داراي ابعاد کيهان شناختي است و سوم به اين دليل که نويسنده در فضايي نامتعين و ناگوار در جستجوي امر شخصي است.»

اين پژوهشگر گفت:« عليرغم آنکه ترجمه هاي زيادي از شازده کوچولو در ايران شده است، توجه کافي از سوي منتقدين و پژوهشگران دانشگاهي به مضمون آن نشده است و همگان کتاب را کتاب کودک مي دانند و به همين دليل آن را جدي نگرفته اند. مي توان گفت اين کتاب داراي روساختي کودکانه و زير ساختي بزرگسالانه است.»

او "سنت اگزوپري" را متاثر از "نيچه" و "پاسکال" دانست و افزود:« او در جستجوي معناي واقعي براي زندگي است و به معناهاي روزمره دلخوش نيست.»

"سيما وزيرنيا " نيز در سخناني درباره علت استقبال بيش از حد از کتاب شازده کوچولو در جهان گفت:« مخاطبان اين کتاب عناصر تخيلي داستان را باور مي کنند به اين دليل که کتاب براي مخاطب داراي حس مشترک رواني است و دربردارنده تناقضات بزرگ روح بشري است همانگونه که امبرتو اکو، نشانه شناس ايتاليايي در تحليل داستانهاي جيمز باند مي گويد درونمايه هاي اين گونه از داستانها تضاد و تناقض است. در باره شازده کوچولو نيز مي توان گفت که درونمايه اين کتاب تناقض است که مي توان آن را به کشش ميان مرگ و زندگي توصيف کرد. براي تحليل اين کتاب نيازمند يک تحليل بينامتني و نيز تحليل زندگينامه اي هستيم چرا که اثر ادبي ارتباط مستقيم با روان کسي دارد که آن را توليد کرده است.»

او افزود:« نويسنده شازده کوچولو مي خواهد بگويد که آدمها تنها هستند. آنها همه چيز را در فروشگاه مي خرند و چون در فروشگاه دوستي نمي فروشند آدمها به شدت احساس تنهايي مي کنند. او يک روانشناس بود البته به معنايي که کساني مانند داستايوفسکي، مارگريت دوراس و جيمز جويس روانشناس بودند. سنت اگزوپري تحليل گر کودک درون انسان است. نمادهاي درون کتاب نمادهايي کهن الگوي اند ( اصطلاحي که يونگ به کار مي برد ). چيزهايي مانند گل سرخ (نماد تماميت روان و نيزعشق)، درخت بائو باب(که خود درخت نماد زندگي و بائو باب نماد مرگ است )، چاه آب، مار، قطار ، روباه و نمادهاي ديگر.»

"وزير نيا" گفت:« عشقي که درونمايه کار شازده کوچولو است عشقي است متعالي و بانزاکت (واژه اي که ژاک لاکان براي آن به کار مي برد) و کتاب به خاطر وجود اين نوع از عشق و نيز پارادوکسهاي موجود در آن توام با نوعي وجد است.»

"ابوالحسن نجفي" يکي از مترجمان کتاب شازده کوچولو در ايران نيز در سخناني به اهميت اين کتاب در جهان اشاره کرد و گفت:« اين کتاب تاکنون به بيش از 160 زبان ترجمه شده و هرسال يک ميليون نسخه از اين کتاب به فروش مي رود و تاکنون بيش از 500 بار تجديد چاپ شده است. در سال 2005 اين کتاب به زبان توگال که زبان يکي از اقوام سرخ پوست آمريکاي جنوبي است ترجمه شد که پس از انجيل دومين کتاب ترجمه شده به اين زبان بود.»

"نجفي" به وظايف مترجم در ترجمه يک متن ادبي و بررسي ترجمه هايي که از شازده کوچولو توسط "محمد قاضي" و "احمد شاملو" شده ، پرداخت و گفت:« يکي از وظايف مترجم يک متن ادبي اين است که مرتبه زبان مبدا را تشخيص دهد و در ترجمه به زبان مقصد سبک نويسنده را لحاظ کند. مثلاً محمد قاضي در ترجمه اي که از شازده کوچولو در سال 1333 کرده است، آن را کتابي فلسفي ارزيابي کرده و به همين دليل نيز اين کتاب را به سبکي اديبانه ترجمه کرده است. اين مترجم خود پس از اينکه درمي يابد کتاب با اين ترجمه مورد استقبال خوانندگان قرار نگرفته است در ترجمه ديگري که از اين کتاب مي کند، معترف مي شود که ترجمه نخستش خوب نيست.»

اين مترجم با انتقاد از ترجمه اي که "شاملو" از کتاب شازده کوچولو کرده گفت:« شاملو، کتاب را نخستين بار با نام مسافر کوچولو ترجمه مي کند و در مقدمه اي که بر کتاب آورده، مدعي مي شود که پرنس به معناي شاهزاده نيست و دليلي نيز براي اين مدعاي خود نمي آورد . علاوه براين ما در نيمي از اين کتاب شخصيت اصلي کتاب را با نام مسافر کوچولو و در نيم ديگر او را با نام امير مي شناسيم. او در تحرير دوم، مقدمه اش را حذف مي کند و در تحرير سوم کتاب را با نام شازده کوچولو يک بار ديگر ترجمه مي کند.»

او افزود:« شاملو از زبان عاميانه براي ترجمه شازده کوچولو استفاده مي کند در حالي که زبان اصل کتاب زبان معيار است که رنگ شاعرانه دارد. علاوه براينکه او نتوانسته لحن مناسب را براي ترجمه اين کتاب به کار بگبرد، غلطهاي زيادي نيز در اين ترجمه وجود دارد. با اينکه شاملو را بزرگترين شاعر معاصر ايران مي دانم اما معتقدم او شازده کوچولو را خوب ترجمه نکرده است و اساساً مترجم خوبي نيست و ترجمه هايش بد است.»

اين مترجم همچنين با انتقاد شديد از وضعيت ترجمه و وجود سرقت ادبي و ترجمه اي در ايران گفت:« شايد راه حل گريز از فاجعه ترجمه در ايران پيوستن به قانون کپي رايت باشد. البته خود همين راه حل نيز مشکلاتي در پي دارد از جمله اينکه ناشر براي ترجمه يک اثر ادبي به دنبال ارزانترين مترجم مي گردد و طوري مي شود که مترجمان خوب جرات نمي کنند به سراغ ترجمه آن بروند.»

ابداع و طراحي سيستم رايانه‌ای جهت ترجمه متون علمي زبان انگليسي به زبان فارسي

طرح‌ مسأله‌

الف- سيستم‌هاي‌كنترل‌شده‌ Controlled language systems

ب‌- ترجمه‌ با استعانت‌ از كامپيوتر Computer-assisted translation

ج‌- سيستم‌ تمام‌ - اتوماتيك‌ ترجمه‌ ماشيني‌ FAHQT

مكانيسم‌، مؤلفه‌ها و اجزاي‌ سازنده‌ سيستم‌هاي‌ ترجمه‌ ماشيني‌

الف‌ - واژگان‌

ب‌- نحو و ساختار

1- سيستم‌ Augmented Transition Networks: ATN

2- سيستم‌ Augmented Phrase Structure Grammar: APSG

3- سيستم‌ Definite Clause Grammar: DCG

4- سيستم‌ Lexical - Functional Grammar: LFG

5-سيستم Generalized Phrase Structure Grammar: GPSG

ج‌- معناشناسي‌

نظري‌ گذرا بر سابقه‌ ماشين‌ ترجمه

‌فهرستي از سوابق پژوهشي‌ نگارنده درزمينه ترجمه‌ ماشيني

حدود نيم‌ قرن‌ از زمان‌ ظهور نخستين‌ سيستم‌هاي‌ نرم‌افزاري‌ ترجمه‌ ماشيني‌سپري‌ شده‌ و در خلال‌ اين‌ مدت‌، جهان‌ شاهد پيشرفت‌هايي‌ چشمگير در قلمرو ترجمه‌ ماشيني‌ و دستاوردهاي متنوع‌ جانبي‌ آن‌ بوده‌ است‌. اهميت‌ اين‌ پديده‌ جديد و مقتضاي‌ عصر اطلاعات‌ايجاب‌ كرده‌ است‌ كه‌ ميزان‌ سرمايه گذاري‌ كشورها در اين‌ عرصه‌، در طي‌ سالهاي‌ گذشته‌چشمگير و معادل‌ ارقامي‌ نجومي‌ باشد. به‌ عنوان‌ نمونه‌ در كشور كوچك‌ هلند در سال‌ 1983،هفده‌ ميليون‌ گيلدر معادل‌ هشت ونيم ميليون‌ دلار به‌ يك‌ طرح‌ تحقيقاتي‌ ترجمه‌ ماشيني‌ اختصاص‌ داده‌شده‌(1) و هدف‌ پروژه‌ مذكور تنها ترجمه‌ شيوه‌ نگهداري‌ و كاربرد سلاح‌ نظامي‌ از زبان‌ انگليسي‌ به‌زبان‌ فرانسه‌ بوده‌ است‌. علت‌ اين‌ اقبال‌ و عنايت‌، لحاظ اين‌ واقعيت‌ است‌ كه‌ دستيابي‌ به‌ سيستم‌ترجمه‌ ماشيني‌ بالذاته‌ مي‌تواند زمينه‌ساز رشد علمي‌ و توسعه‌ ملي‌ باشد و در ديگر عرصه‌هاي‌مورد نياز جوامع‌ امروزي‌ نيز تحولاتي‌ شگرف‌ پديد آورد. ظهور اينترنت‌ و ضرورت‌ حضور ووجود سيستم‌ ترجمه‌ ماشيني‌ در كنار آن‌، باعث‌ شده‌ است‌ كه‌ تلاشهاي‌ چند جانبه‌ تحقيقاتي‌ دراين‌ زمينه‌ گسترده‌تر و حجم‌ سرمايه‌گذاريها در اين‌ عرصه‌ مضاعف‌ گردد.(2)

اگر تا قبل‌ از رونق‌ بازار اين‌ پديده‌ نو، مساعي‌ منحصرا در زمينه‌ ابداع‌ ترجمه‌ ماشيني‌دوسويه‌ (انگليسي‌ به‌ فرانسه‌، ژاپني‌ به‌ انگليسي‌، روسي‌ به‌ آلماني‌ و...) صورت‌ مي‌گرفت‌، در حال‌حاضر گرايش‌ها معطوف‌ به‌ سيستم‌هاي‌ چندسويه‌ (انگليسي‌ به‌ فرانسه‌، آلماني‌، اسپانيولي‌،ايتاليائي‌، ژاپني‌، چيني‌ و...) شده‌ است‌.(3)

مع‌الوصف‌ علي‌رغم‌ اين‌ حقايق‌ ملموس‌، در كشور ما نه‌ تنها اين‌ موضوع‌ مورد تغافل‌ قرارگرفته‌ است‌، بلكه‌ ابعاد واقعي‌ قضيه‌ و گستره‌ كاربردي‌ آن‌ نيز نامكشوف‌ مانده‌ است‌. تصوير وتصوري‌ كه‌ از ترجمه‌ ماشيني‌ در اذهان‌ وجود دارد، منطبق‌ با واقعيت‌ها نيست‌ و متأسفانه‌تلاشي‌ در جهت‌ شناخت‌ مسأله‌، اهميت‌ و نقش‌ آن‌ در توسعه‌ ملي‌ و نيز پويائي‌ و توليد علمي‌ درسطح‌ كشور صورت‌ نگرفته‌ است‌.

در اين‌ گزارش‌ سعي‌ مي‌شود با استعانت‌ از تجربيات‌ و براساس‌ يافته‌هاي‌ ملموس‌ حاصل‌از بيست‌ سال‌ مطالعه‌ و تحقيق‌ و كار مداوم‌ در زمينه‌ زبان‌شناسي‌ رايانه‌اي‌computational linguistics، بررسي‌ هر چند موجز و مختصر - اما دقيق‌ و واقع‌گرايانه‌- ازكم‌ و كيف‌ ترجمه‌ ماشيني‌ ارائه‌ گردد.

طرح‌ مسأله‌

قبل‌ از تعريف‌ و تبيين‌ ترجمه‌ ماشيني‌، ضروري‌ به‌ نظر مي‌رسد كه‌ از ديدگاه‌ زبان‌شناسي‌،ماهيت‌ ترجمه‌ را در مفهوم‌ عام‌ آن‌ يعني‌ ترجمه‌اي‌ كه‌ توسط شخصي‌ متخصص‌ و زباندان‌ انجام‌مي‌گيرد و اصطلاحاً به‌ ترجمه‌ انساني‌ human translation تعبير شده‌ است‌، بازشناسي‌ كنيم‌.با آنكه‌ سابقه‌ ترجمه‌ به‌ قبل‌ از قرن‌ اول‌ ميلادي‌ برمي‌گردد، هنوز هم‌ تعريفي‌ جامع‌ و مانع‌ ازترجمه‌ به‌ گونه‌اي‌ كه‌ مورد قبول‌ همگان‌ باشد در اختيار نيست‌.(4)علت‌ امر ناشي‌ از نوع‌ نگرش‌اهل‌ فن‌- كه‌ معمولا پيرو مكانيب‌ مختلف‌اند- و شيوه‌هاي‌ كاربردي‌ و روال‌ متداول‌ در امر ترجمه‌مي‌باشد. بديهي‌ است‌ اگر ترجمه‌ را از ديدگاه‌ طرفداران‌ >ترجمه‌ تحت‌اللفظي‌<literal translation بنگريم‌ تعريف‌، مغاير با تعاريفي‌ خواهد بود كه‌ هواداران‌ >ترجمه‌ معنائي‌<semantic translation يا >ترجمه‌ آزاد< Free translation از موضوع‌ ارائه‌ كرده‌اند. مع‌ هذانبايد از نظر دور داشت‌ كه‌ در تعاريف‌ گونه‌گون‌ ارائه‌ شده‌ از سوي‌ زبان‌شناسان‌ وتئوريسين‌هاي‌ ترجمه‌ با گرايش‌ فكري‌ متفاوت‌، نقطه‌نظرهاي‌ مشترك‌ قابل‌ تأمل‌ نيز هست‌ كه‌جمع‌بندي‌ آنها مي‌تواند رهگشاي‌ ما در اين‌ زمينه‌ باشد. براساس‌ اين‌ نقطه‌نظرهاي‌ مشترك‌مي‌توان‌ چنين‌ نتيجه‌گيري‌ كرد كه‌ هر كلام‌ و گفته‌ در هر زبان‌ صورتي‌ (Forme) دارد و محتوايي‌(contenu) و ترجمه‌ عبارتست‌ از تبديل‌ يا برگرداندن‌ نزديك‌ترين‌ پيام‌ مستتر در صورت‌واژه‌هاي‌ زبان‌ مبدأ >source language = SL< يعني‌ زباني‌ كه‌ از آن‌ ترجمه‌ انجام‌ مي‌گيرد به‌>صورت‌ < زبان‌ مقصد target language = TL< يعني‌ زباني‌ كه‌ ترجمه‌ متن‌ به‌ آن‌ برگردانده‌مي‌شود. و اما ترجمه‌ ماشيني‌ Machine Translation كه‌ در پاره‌اي‌ موارد تحت‌ عنوان‌ترجمه‌ خودكار )اتوماتيك‌، ماشيني‌) automatic Translation نيز معرفي‌ شده‌ است‌(6)، به‌ سيستم‌ نرم‌افزاري‌ رايانه‌اي‌ اطلاق‌ مي‌شود كه‌ از طريق‌ آن‌ مي‌توان‌ متون‌ ورودي‌ زبان‌ مبدأ SL > > را طي‌ فرايندهايي‌ خاص‌ و پيچيده‌ - در سطوح‌ مختلف‌ زبان‌شناختي‌ - تجزيه‌ و تحليل‌ ودر نهايت‌ به‌ زبان‌)يا زبانهاي‌ مقصد (ترجمه‌ و به‌ صورت‌ خروجي‌ در اختيار كاربر قرار داد. درواقع‌ در طراحي‌ نرم‌افزار ترجمه‌ ماشيني‌ تمهيداتي‌ انديشيده‌ و در ساختار آن‌ مؤلفه‌ها و اجزايي‌درنظر گرفته‌ مي‌شود كه‌ علي‌القاعده‌ بايد سيستم‌ را قادر سازد تا تقريبا همانند فردي‌ مترجم‌ تجزيه‌ و تحليل‌هاي‌ زبان‌شناختي‌ متن‌ ورودي‌ را انجام‌ داده‌ تا با بهره‌گيري‌ از داده‌ها و براساس‌يافته‌ها، معادل‌ جملات‌ زبان‌ مبدأ را در زبان‌ مقصد توليد كند. انجام‌ اين‌ عمل‌ مستلزم‌ آن‌ است‌ كه‌سيستم‌ علاوه‌ بر برنامه‌اي‌ رايانه‌اي‌ متشكل‌ از مجموعه‌ الگوريتم‌هاي‌ خاص‌ و پيچيده‌، مجموعه‌فرهنگها و بانكهاي‌ اطلاعاتي‌ محتوي‌ واژگان‌ و قواعد ساختاري‌ و معناشناختي‌ زبانهاي‌ مبدأ ومقصد نيز در اختيار داشته‌ باشد.

اگر بتوان‌ ادعا كرد كه‌ امكان‌ تدوين‌ فرهنگ‌ قواعد ساختاري‌ يا واژگان‌ دستوري‌ grammatical words)) نسبتا كامل‌ فراهم‌ باشد، مختصه‌ و ويژگي‌ زبان‌ به‌ گونه‌اي‌ است‌ كه‌ درهيچ‌ برهه‌اي‌ از زمان‌ نمي‌توان‌ فرهنگي‌ -هر چند مبسوط - را يافت‌ كه‌ دربر دارنده‌ همه‌ واژه‌هاي‌آن‌ زبان‌ باشد، چه‌ زبان‌ پديده‌اي‌ است‌ زايا و هر زمان‌ مي‌توان‌ انتظار داشت‌ كه‌ واژه‌هايي‌ جديدخلق‌ و به‌ مجموعه‌ واژگان‌ آن‌ زبان‌ افزوده‌ شود. از اين‌ گذشته‌ وجود خطاهاي‌ املايي‌ در متن‌مي‌تواند در جريان‌ كار ترجمه‌ ايجاد اختلال‌ كند.(7) مترجمين‌ ورزيده‌ در رويارويي‌ با كلمات‌ناشناخته‌ يا ساختارهاي‌ شاذ جملات‌، با مراجعه‌ به‌ منابع‌ معتبر، تجربيات‌ و دانش‌ فردي‌ و يا ازطريق‌ استنتاج‌ و استقراء به‌ حل‌ مشكل‌ و مسأله‌ مي‌پردازند. در ترجمه‌ ماشيني‌ نيز بايد در مقابل‌اين‌ گونه‌ پديده‌ها از ساز و كاري‌ مشابه‌ بهره‌ جست‌، يعني‌ بايد سيستم‌ به‌ ابزاري‌ خاص‌ مجهزباشد تا اختلالي‌ در امر ترجمه‌ بوجود نيايد. ماشين‌هاي‌ ترجمه‌ گوناگون‌ و معمولي‌ موجود درسطح‌ بازار عموما فاقد اين‌ ساز و كارند و طبيعي‌ است‌ كه‌ محتواي‌ برون‌ داد آنها مغلوط و نامفهوم‌ باشد و در نتيجه‌ مشاهده‌ مي‌شود كه‌ حاصل‌ كا ر اين‌گونه‌ سيستم‌ها، نه‌ تنها مطلوب‌نيست‌، بلكه‌ در مواردي‌ عديده‌، بطور كلي‌ غيرقابل‌ استفاده‌اند.(8 )در گزارشهاي‌ متعدد اعلام‌ شده‌است‌ كه‌ سيستم‌هايي‌ در تيراژهايي‌ بالا و قيمت‌هايي‌ نسبتا متعادل‌ - و حتي‌ گاهي‌ در سطح‌جهاني‌ و با تبليغاتي‌ گسترده‌ به‌ بازار عرصه‌ شده‌، خريدار فقط يك‌ بار از آنها استفاده‌ كرده‌ و به‌علت‌ عدم‌ رضايت‌ آنها را به‌ دور افكنده‌ است‌.!(9)و اما سيستم‌هايي‌ كه‌ براساس‌ معيارهاي‌ علمي‌طراحي‌ و در ساختار آنها از مكانيسم‌هايي‌ منطقي‌ و براساس‌ دانش‌ زبان‌شناسي‌ رايانه‌اي‌استفاده‌ شده‌ است‌، به‌ سه‌ گروه‌ تقسيم‌بندي‌ مي‌شوند.(10)

الف‌(سيستم‌systems

هاي‌كنترل‌شده‌Controlled language

پس‌ از كاربرد درازمدت‌ سيستم‌ ترجمه‌ ماشيني‌ در زمينه‌ كاري‌ مشخص‌ و محدود وحصول‌ تجربيات‌ كاملا موفق‌ و رضايت‌بخش‌، گرايش‌ها بيشتر معطوف‌ به‌ ابداع‌ سيستم‌هاي‌كاربردي‌ با مجموعه‌ واژگان‌ و ساختارهاي‌ معين‌ و از پيش‌ تعيين‌ شده‌ است‌. اغلب‌ مؤسسات‌ وسازمانها درپي‌ دستيابي‌ به‌ سيستم‌هاي‌ ترجمه‌ ماشيني‌اند كه‌ نيازشان‌ را در زمينه‌ فعاليت‌هاي‌تخصصي‌ آنها مرتفع‌ سازد، بويژه‌ آنكه‌ اين‌گونه‌ سيستم‌ها معمولا چند زبانه‌اند. در اين‌سيستم‌ها ميزان‌ خطا به‌ حداقل‌ و ميزان‌ انعطاف‌پذيري‌، در امر برنامه‌ريزي‌ زباني‌ به‌ حداكثرمي‌رسد و امكان‌ اعمال‌ ديدگاههاي‌ زبان‌شناختي‌ واقعا بيشتر است‌. با توجه‌ به‌ كارآيي‌ درخورتوجه‌ اين‌گونه‌ سيستم‌ها و مختصات‌ مطلوب‌ آنها، كمپاني‌ها و مؤسسات‌ ترجيح‌ مي‌دهند به‌ جاي‌تهيه‌ نرم‌افزارهاي‌ ترجمه‌ ماشيني‌ تجارتي‌، رأسا سفارش‌ سيستم‌هاي‌ ترجمه‌ ماشيني‌ متناسب‌ با خواستها و حوزه‌ فعاليت‌ تخصصي‌ خود بدهند.

در نتيجه‌ اين‌ نوع‌ تمايلات‌، ابداع‌ اين‌گونه‌ سيستم‌ها در جهان‌ رواج‌ و رونقي‌ بسزا يافته‌است‌ و تنها در اروپا دهها سيستم‌ در اين‌ قلمرو ابداع‌ شده‌ كه‌ مهمترين‌ آنها عبارتند از: Titus،Systran، Lent، Cop Volmac، Potrans، Smart، Hook and Hatton و... اكثر اين‌ سيستم‌چندزبانه‌اند و برخي‌ از آنها از نظر مورد حمايت‌ مستقيم‌ دولت‌ها و جامعه‌ اروپا هستند.(11)

جالب‌ توجه‌ اين‌ كه‌، جد اعلاي‌ اين‌گونه‌ سيستم‌ها كه‌ نخستين‌بار در كانادا و به‌ منظورترجمه‌ انگليسي‌ به‌ فرانسه‌ متون‌ مربوط به‌ تحولات‌ جوي‌ و پيش‌بيني‌هاي‌ هواشناسي‌- آن‌ هم‌ باتعدادي‌ معدود كلمات‌ و ساختارهايي‌ محدود- مورد استفاده‌ قرار مي‌گرفت‌، امروز از چنان‌مقبوليتي‌ برخوردار شده‌ است‌ كه‌ كتابچه‌هاي‌ راهنما و شيوه‌ نگهداري‌ بسياري‌ از ماشين‌آلات‌سنگين‌ و جنگ‌افزارهاي‌ مدرن‌ به‌ زبانهاي‌ مختلف‌ دنيا از طريق‌ اين‌ نوع‌ سيستم‌ها ترجمه‌مي‌شود و كمپاني‌هاي‌ معظمي‌ نظير زيمنس‌، كارترپيلار، داسو و... از مشتريان‌ اصلي‌ اين‌گونه‌سيستم‌ها هستند.(12)

ب‌( ترجمه‌ با استعانت‌ از كامپيوتر Computer-assisted translation

اين‌ نوع‌ سيستم‌ها تحت‌ عنوان‌ ترجمه‌ ماشيني‌ نيمه‌خودكار و نيز ترجمه‌ ماشيني‌ با كمك‌ انسان‌ human-assisted machine translation نيز معرفي‌ شده‌ است‌. ايده‌ اين‌ نوع‌سيستم‌ها، حاصل‌ تحقيق‌ پژوهشگران‌ دانشگاه‌ شيكاگو آمريكاست‌،(13) و در پي‌ ناكامي‌هاي‌سيستم‌هاي‌ ماشين‌ ترجمه‌ آمريكايي‌ و عدم‌ رضايت‌ آنها از نتايج‌ حاصله‌ در دهه‌هاي‌ گذشته‌ ظاهر شده‌ است‌. با توجه‌ به‌ امكان‌ ظهور و بروز ابهام‌هاي‌ واژگاني‌، ساختاري‌ و معناشناختي‌ درامر ترجمه‌ ماشيني‌ و ارائه‌ جملاتي‌ نامربوط و اشتباه‌ به‌ عنوان‌ جملات‌ خروجي‌ و عدم‌ توانايي‌اصلاح‌ و تصحيح‌ آنها، اين‌ شيوه‌ عمل ترويج‌ مي‌شد. نحوه‌ كار سيستم‌ بر اين‌ روال‌ است‌ كه‌ درهر مورد و مرحله‌اي‌ كه‌ سيستم‌ قادر به‌ ايفاي‌ نقش‌ خود به‌ گونه‌اي‌ مطمئن‌ نباشد ديالوگي‌ بين‌كامپيوتر و كاربر برگزار مي‌شود و رايانه‌ از كاربر تقاضا مي‌كند با توضيحات‌ خود حل‌ مشكل‌يا ابهام‌زدايي‌ كند، شيوه‌ كار اين نوع سيستم ها موفقيت‌آميز و عملي‌ اعلام‌ شده‌ است‌ ولي‌ از نظر سرعت‌ واتوماسيون‌ چندان‌ رضايت‌ بخش‌ نبوده‌ است‌. براساس‌ گزارشهاي‌ متعدد، اين‌ نوع‌ سيستم‌ بيشترمورد استفاده‌ مترجمين‌ تازه‌ كار و حرفه‌اي‌ و مخصوصŠ بيشتر در پيش‌ ترجمه‌هاي‌ theme > >يعني‌ ترجمه‌ از زبان‌ مادري‌ به‌ زبان‌ بيگانه‌ كاربرد داشته‌ است‌ تا version يعني‌ >ترجمه‌ متون‌ اززبان‌ بيگانه‌ به‌ زبان‌ مادري‌ <. و اين‌ خود بعد جديدي‌ را در قلمرو ترجمه‌ ماشيني‌ گشوده‌است‌.(14(به‌ هر حال‌ ناگفته‌ نبايد گذاشت‌ كه‌ از ديدگاه‌ بسياري‌ از متخصصين‌ و اهل‌ فن‌ سيستم‌مورد بحث‌ از نظر ماهوي‌ نزديك‌ به‌ سيستم‌هايي‌ است‌ كه‌ نياز به‌ پيش‌ - پردازش‌ pre-edit متن‌داشته‌اند.(15)

ج‌( سيستم‌ تمام‌ - اتوماتيك‌ ترجمه‌ ماشيني‌ FAHQT

پيشرفتهاي‌ شگفت‌انگيزي‌ كه‌ در طي‌ سالهاي‌ اخير در زمينه‌ هوش‌ مصنوعي‌ ArtificialIntelligent =AI و تكنيك‌ شبكه‌ عصبي‌ پديد آمده‌ است‌، تأثير غيرقابل‌ انكار در جهت‌ تكامل‌ وتوسعه‌ ترجمه‌ ماشيني‌ داشته‌ است‌.(16) از سوي‌ ديگر ظهور و پيدايش‌ اينترنت‌ و نوع‌ خاص‌استفاده‌ كاربر از مطالب‌ متنوع‌ و گسترده‌ شبكه‌هاي‌ اطلاعاتي‌ ايجاب‌ كرده‌ است‌ كه‌ حوزه‌ وقلمرو ماشين‌ ترجمه‌ نيز گسترش‌ يابد و امر ترجمه‌ در اين‌ حيطه‌ چه‌ از حيث‌ كاربرد و چه‌ از حيث‌ميزان‌ نياز كاربر ابعاد ديگري‌ كسب‌ كند.

طبيعتاً چون‌ به‌ موازات‌ گستردگي‌ امر، غموض‌ و پيچيدگي‌ قضيه‌ نيز بيشتر شده‌ است‌، به‌حكم‌ ضرورت‌ مي‌بايست‌ به‌ منظور رفع‌ نيازهاي‌ كاربران‌ چاره‌اي‌ انديشيده‌ شود. در اين‌ راستاسيستم‌ تمام‌ اتوماتيك‌ ترجمه‌ ماشيني‌باكيفيت‌بالايعني‌FAHQT، Fully automatic High-Quality Translation ابداع‌ شد.

بايد توجه‌ داشت‌ كه‌ در اصل‌ اين‌سيستم‌ وجه‌ تكامل‌ يافته‌ سيستمي‌ است‌ كه‌ نياز به‌ پيش‌- ويراستاري‌ pre-edit وپس‌-ويراستاري‌ post-edit داشته‌ است‌. بديهي‌ است‌ كه‌ ويراستاري‌هاي‌ ياد شده‌ توسط فردمتخصص‌ انجام‌ مي‌گرفت‌ ولي‌ در حال‌ حاضر اين‌گونه‌ سيستم‌ها مجهز به‌ غلطياب‌ املايي‌ ونحوي‌ نسبتاً قدرتمندي‌ است‌ كه‌ قبل‌ از انجام‌ ترجمه‌ متن‌ زبان‌ مبدأ را آماده‌سازي‌ مي‌كند. پس‌ ازانجام‌ ترجمه‌ نيز، از طريق‌ خطاياب‌ نحوي‌ زبان‌ مقصد، متن‌ خروجي‌ ويرايش‌ مي‌شود و درنهايت‌ ويرايش‌ نهايي‌ توسط ويراستار انجام‌ مي‌گيرد.(17)

مكانيسم‌، مؤلفه‌ها و اجزاي‌ سازنده‌ سيستم‌هاي‌ ترجمه‌ ماشيني‌

در ساختار سيستم‌هاي‌ ترجمه‌ ماشيني‌ سه‌ مؤلفه‌ اصلي‌ وجود دارد و هر مؤلفه‌ نيز به‌نوبه‌ خود از مجموعه‌ اجزايي‌ تشكيل‌ مي‌شود كه‌ در راستاي‌ تحقق‌ نقش‌ يا نقشهاي‌ آن‌ سه‌ مؤلفه‌اصلي‌ عمل‌ مي‌كنند. مؤلفه‌هاي‌ فوق‌الذكر در تناظر با سه‌ سطح‌ كه‌ علم‌ زبان‌شناسي‌ نوين‌ براي‌هر زبان‌ طبيعي‌ و زنده‌ قائل‌ است‌ قرار دارند. اين‌ سه‌ سطح‌ عبارتند از:

الف‌ - واژگان‌

ب‌- نحو و ساختار

ج‌- معناشناسي‌

بايد همواره‌ اين‌ نكته‌ را درنظر داشت‌ كه‌ تفكيك‌ اين‌ سطوح‌ مبين‌ عدم‌ ارتباط بين‌ مختصات‌واژگان‌، نحو و ساختار و معناشناسي‌ متن‌ نيست‌، بلكه‌ هر سه‌ سطح‌ در سلسله‌ مراتب‌ چندبعدي‌خود در حكم‌ تار و پود يكديگرند.

به‌ عبارت‌ ساده‌تر اين‌ تفكيك‌ صوري‌ و اعتباري‌ است‌، و در راستاي‌ نوعي‌ >شبيه‌سازي‌<فرايند ترجمه‌، در ذهن‌ مترجم‌ است‌، در واقع‌ ترجمه‌ ماشيني‌ از طريق‌ اين‌ شبيه‌سازي‌ متحقق‌مي‌شود. از نظر اهميت‌، اولويت‌، سهولت‌ پردازش‌ و يا مسأله‌زايي‌ آنها نيز نمي‌توان‌ بين‌ سه‌ مؤلفه‌ياد شده‌ تفاوتي‌ قائل‌ شد، بلكه‌ هر سه‌ آنها، از ديدگاههاي‌ ياد شده‌ هم‌سطح‌اند. شايد در وهله‌ اول‌تصور شود كه‌ در پردازش‌ها، به‌ علت‌ انتزاعي‌تر بودن‌ مؤلفه‌ معناشناسي‌، اين‌ سطح‌ پيچيده‌تر ودر نتيجه‌ مسأله‌زاتر باشد، ولي‌ بايد توجه‌ داشت‌ كه‌ در عمل‌ چنين‌ نيست‌، هر سطح‌ حتي‌ سطح‌واژگان‌ نيز مسائل‌ و مشكلات‌ خاص‌ خود دارد چه‌ >ابهام‌<ها در هر سطح‌ مي‌تواند ظاهر شود.اگر در هر سطح‌ به‌ گونه‌اي‌ منطقي‌ با مسائل‌ و قضايا برخورد شود از ميزان‌ غموض‌ و پيچيدگي‌و ابهام‌زايي‌ در سطوح‌ بعدي‌ كاسته‌ مي‌شود. دليل‌ امر وجود تعامل‌ و ارتباط ظريف‌ بين‌ عناصراين‌ سه‌ سطح‌ است‌: در سطور زير سعي‌ مي‌شود تصويري‌ كلي‌ از مكانيسم‌ و نقش‌ هر يك‌ ازمؤلفه‌هاي‌ مورد بحث‌ ارائه‌ شود.

الف‌) واژگان‌

نخستين‌ مرحله‌ پردازش‌ در ترجمه‌ ماشيني‌ در سطح‌ واژگان‌ انجام‌ مي‌گيرد. پردازش‌مورد نظر عبارتست‌ از تجزيه‌ و تحليل‌ مرفولوژيكي‌ واژه‌هاي‌ واحد ترجمه‌. در اين‌ مرحله‌ عناصرموجود در سطح‌ واحد ترجمه‌ يك‌ به‌ يك‌ تفكيك‌، پردازش‌ و مقوله‌گذاري‌ مي‌شوند. واژگان‌ هرزبان‌ مختصات‌ و دشواريهاي‌ خاص‌ خود را دارد و بالقوه‌ مي‌توانند مسأله‌زا باشند. برخي‌ از اين‌مشكلات‌ جزو پعموميت‌هاپي‌ زباني‌ هستند و به‌ زباني‌ خاص‌ اختصاص‌ ندارند; پهم‌نويسه‌هاپ ازجمله‌ مصاديق‌ اين‌ مضمون‌ به‌ شمار مي‌روند: در زبان‌ فارسي‌ واژه‌هاي‌ ساده‌ و پرتداول‌ >مرد< و>آرد<، در زبان‌ انگليسي‌ واژه‌هاي‌ run > > و correct > > و در زبان‌ فرانسه‌ واژه‌هاي‌ livre > > و cours > > مي‌توانند به‌ مقوله‌هاي‌ گرامري‌ متعدد، تعلق‌ داشته‌ باشند. و اين‌ امر جدا و سواي‌ ازپديده‌ چند معنايي‌ است‌ كه‌ در هر زبان‌ امري‌ عادي‌ تلقي‌ مي‌شود. عدم‌ پردازش‌ صحيح‌ اين‌گونه‌موارد، مي‌تواند موجد مسائل‌ و مشكلات‌ لاينحل‌ در مراحل‌ و سطوح‌ بعد مي‌گردد. شايان‌ ذكر آن‌كه‌، زبان‌ انگليسي‌ از اين‌ منظر جزو خطازاترين‌ زبانها محسوب‌ مي‌شود€ ولي بايد همواره به خاطرداشت كه هم‌نويسه‌ها تنها عامل‌ خطازا در امر پردازش‌ واژگان‌ نيستند، در بعضي‌ زبانها مشكلات‌خاص‌ و مختص‌ آن‌ زبان‌ وجود دارد كه‌ در عرصه‌ پردازش‌ زبان‌ مجال‌ ظهور و بروز يافته‌، منشأابهام‌ و خطا مي‌شوند. انفصال‌ و ناپيوستگي‌ عناصر واحد ترجمه‌ در زبان‌ انگليسي‌، امكان‌ خلطادات‌ و انتساب‌ آنها به‌ سازه‌هاي‌ غير، از جمله‌ عوامل‌ ابهام‌زا و خطازا در مرحله‌ پردازش‌ واژگان‌محسوب‌ مي‌شود بنابراين‌ بايد با لحاظ همه‌ موارد مسأله‌آفرين‌، تدابيري‌ انديشيد كه‌ در اين‌سطح‌- به‌ ظاهر ساده‌- ميزان‌ خطا به‌ حداقل‌ ممكن‌ برسد و راه‌ براي‌ انجام‌ پردازش‌ و تجزيه‌ وتحليل‌هاي‌ زبان‌شناختي‌ بعدي‌، بهتر هموار گردد. در جهت نيل به اين هدف در زبان انگليسي اقدامات متعدد انجام گرفته است . از جمله در سال‌ 1991 پروژه‌اي‌ عظيم‌ به‌ مديريت‌ كنسرسيومي‌ متشكل‌ از چند دانشگاه‌ و نهاد علمي‌ و صنعتي‌، من‌جمله‌ دانشگاه‌ اكسفورد و دانشگاه‌ لانكاستر، مركز تحقيقات‌ كتابخانه‌ ملي‌ بريتانيا، شوراي‌ علمي‌ و مهندسي‌، آكادمي‌ انگليس‌، به‌ منظور تدوين‌ پيكره‌ زباني‌ انگليسي‌ BNCو مقوله‌گذاري‌ واژه‌هاي‌ انگليسي‌ شروع‌ و در سال‌ 1996 خاتمه‌ يافت‌. پيكره‌ زباني‌ براساس‌ صدميليون‌ واژه‌ تدوين‌ شد و از طريق‌ آن‌ امكان‌ كددهي‌ و مقوله‌گذاري‌ فراهم‌ آمد و در نهايت‌، حدود98%مقوله‌گذاري‌ صحيح‌ ميسر گشت‌.(18)

ب‌) نحو و ساختار

Parsing در اصطلاح‌ computational linguistics يعني‌ اجراي‌ برنامه‌ تجزيه‌ و تحليل‌نحوي‌ متن‌ و يا به‌ عبارت‌ كلي‌تر تجزيه‌ و تحليل‌ گرامري‌ جمله‌ از طريق‌ كامپيوتر. و parser به‌سيستمي‌ اطلاق‌ مي‌شود كه‌ با استعانت‌ از آن‌ پواحد ترجمه‌پ از منظر ساختار و نحو تجزيه‌ وتحليل‌ مي‌شود; به‌ نحوي‌ كه‌ كامپيوتر مي‌تواند از طريق‌ آن‌ به‌ سهولت‌ عناصر تشكيل‌ دهنده‌واحد ترجمه‌ را بازشناسي‌ كند، نقش‌ آنها و روابط دروني‌ و فيمابين‌ آن‌ عناصر و نوع‌ قانون‌حاكم‌ بر آنها را تشخيص‌ دهد.(19)در ترجمه‌ ماشيني‌ دستيابي‌ به‌ اطلاعات‌ ياد شده‌ ضروري‌ واجتناب‌ناپذير است‌، چه‌ علاوه‌ بر برگردان‌ عناصر معنائي‌ و واژگان‌، ترجمه‌ ساختار نحوي‌ واحدترجمه‌، از زبان‌ مبدأ به‌ مقصد نيز بايد انجام‌ شود. در واقع‌ برگردان‌ قالب‌ و ساختار جمله‌ از زبان‌مبدأ به‌ زبان‌ مقصد، شرط اصلي‌ و اساسي‌ ترجمه‌ است‌ ; و اين‌ امر جز با تجزيه‌ و تحليل‌ گرامري‌واحد ترجمه‌ ميسر نمي‌شود.

انجام‌ اين‌ مهم‌ از طريق‌ سيستم‌هاي‌ تجزيه‌ و تحليلگر رايانه‌اي‌ صورت‌ مي‌گيرد. گفته‌ شده‌است‌ كه‌ مهمترين‌ ركن‌ ماشين‌ ترجمه‌ تجزيه‌ و تحليلگر نحوي‌ يعني‌ parserاست‌. هر چند اين‌طرز نگرش‌ خالي‌ از اغراق‌ نيست‌ ولي‌ بيانگر اهميت‌ دومين‌ مؤلفه‌ اصلي‌ در ساختار سيستم‌ترجمه‌ ماشيني‌ است‌. اين‌ اهميت‌، انگيزه‌ آن‌ بوده‌ كه‌ تاكنون‌ صدها نوع‌ parserدر سطح‌ جهان‌ابداع‌ شود، تنوع‌ مكانيسم‌هاي‌ بكار رفته‌ در ساختار تجزيه‌ و تحليلگرهاي‌ نحوي‌ واقعا اعجاب‌انگيز است‌. تقريبا هيچ‌ دانشگاهي‌ و مؤسسه‌ آموزش‌ عالي‌ در سطح‌ جهان‌ يافت‌ نمي‌شودكه‌ داراي‌ مركز تحقيقات‌ زبان‌شناسي‌ يا رايانه‌اي‌ باشد و حداقل‌ يك‌ تجزيه‌ و تحليلگر نحو در آن‌ابداع‌ نشده‌ باشد. نقش‌ اصلي‌ تجزيه‌ و تحليلگر نحوي‌ در ساختار ترجمه‌ ماشيني‌ عبارتست‌ از:

1- تشخيص‌ دستوري‌ بودن‌ جمله‌

2- شناخت‌ عناصر سازنده‌ جمله‌ و شيوه‌ تركيب‌ آنها به‌ منظور تشكيل‌ واحدهاي‌ بزرگتر،عبارت‌، بند و...

3-تعيين‌ نقش‌ هر يك‌ از واحدها در جمله‌

4- شناخت‌ دقيق‌ روابط معنايي‌ بين‌ عناصر سازنده‌ جمله‌

علاوه‌ بر نقش‌ اصلي‌، نقشهاي‌ فرعي‌- بنا به‌ مقتضاي‌ كار و سليقه‌ مبدع‌ - نيز براي‌ تجزيه‌ وتحليلگر نحوي‌ درنظر گرفته‌ مي‌شود.

شيوه‌ كار parserها متفاوت‌ است‌ ولي‌ معمولا براساس‌ دو نوع‌ شيوه‌ كارشان‌، به‌ دودسته‌ تقسيم‌بندي‌ مي‌شوند: parserهاي‌ نزولي‌ و صعودي‌. با آنكه‌ هيچكدام‌ از اين‌ دو نوع‌parserها كامل‌ و بي‌نقص‌ نيستند ولي‌ معمولا parser نزولي‌ بيشتر مورد توجه‌ بوده‌ و نمي‌شود برسد، كه‌ خود نشانه‌ موفقيت‌آميز بودن‌، تجزيه‌ و تحليل‌ نحوي‌است‌.

نكته‌ قابل‌ توجه‌ در مورد parser شبكه‌ انتقالي‌ نحوه‌ انطباق‌ آن‌ با زبان‌ برنامه‌نويسي‌ lispاست‌; اگر parser يكي‌ از اجزاي‌ كلام‌ مثلا اسم‌ را بررسي‌ مي‌كند، با توجه‌ به‌ اينكه‌ - در اينجا-اجزاء كلام‌ جزو نمادهاي‌ پاياني‌ محسوب‌ مي‌شوند، از فرمان‌ category استفاده‌ مي‌كنيم‌(category terminal-symbol) ولي‌ اگر parser در حال‌ جستجوي‌ واحد غيرپاياني‌ نظيرعبارت‌ اسمي‌ باشد ناچار به‌ شبكه‌ عبارات‌ اسمي‌ رجوع‌ كرده‌ و در آن‌ شبكه‌، كار جستجوي‌ خودرا ادامه‌ مي‌دهد، براي‌ انجام‌ اين‌ عمل‌ فرمان‌ parser (parse nonterminal-symbol) را اجرامي‌كنيم‌.

مهمترين‌ سيستم‌هاي‌ تجزيه‌ و تحليل‌ نحوي‌ كامپيوتري‌ كه‌ در حال‌ حاضر مورد استفاده‌قرار مي‌گيرند، عبارتند از:

1- سيستم‌ Augmented Transition Networks) ATN)(

اين‌ سيستم‌ به‌ سال‌ 1978 و توسط Woods ابداع‌ و پس‌ از سالها آزمايش‌ و تجربه‌ و انجام‌پاره‌اي‌ تغييرات‌ در سال‌ 1978 بوسيله‌ مادلن‌ بيتز M.Bates، سرانجام‌ در سال‌ 1983 و 1986 به‌سعي‌ وينوگراد Winograd و دودنز Doedens تكميل‌ شد.(21) اين‌ سيستم‌ كه‌ در نوع‌ خودبسيار كارآ و جالب‌ است‌ مي‌تواند علاوه‌ بر تجزيه‌ و تحليل‌ نحوي‌ جملات‌، صحت‌ و سقم‌ واحدترجمه‌ را نيز تشخيص‌ دهد. ولي‌ بايد توجه‌ داشت‌ كه‌ نكته‌ مهم‌ تشخيص‌ درستي‌ جمله‌ براساس‌معيارهاي‌ خاصي‌ است‌ كه‌ منحصراً در عرصه‌ Computational linguistics معتبر است‌ ولزوماً با آنچه‌ معيار زبانشناسي‌ است‌، هماهنگ‌ و منطبق‌ نيست‌. گفته‌ مي‌شود با بهره‌جوئي‌ ازسيستم‌ ياد شده‌ مي‌توان‌ در پاره‌اي‌ از موارد مشخص‌، عناصر معناشناختي‌ را نيز تجزيه‌ وتحليل‌ كرد.

2- سيستم‌ Augmented Phrase Structure Grammar) APSG )

نزديكترين‌ سيستم‌ تجزيه‌ و تحليل‌ نحوي‌ به‌ ATN بشمار مي‌رود، تفاوت‌ اصلي‌ اين‌ دوسيستم‌ در اين‌ امر نهفته‌ است‌ كه‌ در سيستم‌ APSG از ساختار شبكه‌اي‌پ استفاده‌ نمي‌شود، هرچند اين‌ سيستم‌ در اصل‌ با توجه‌ و با تكيه‌ بر Constituenc y ragramm(22) و آنهم‌ براساس‌دستور زبان‌ انگليسي‌ طراحي‌ شده‌ است‌ ولي‌ امكان‌ بهره‌جوئي‌ از آن‌ در سيستم‌ تجزيه‌ و تحليل‌نحوي‌ براساس‌ dependency grammar نيز وجود دارد، اخيراٌ روايت‌گونه‌ (version)جديدي‌ از اين‌ سيستم‌ به‌ منظور كاربرد در زمينه‌هاي‌ فرماليسم‌ همگاني‌ نيز ابداع‌ شده‌ است‌.

3- سيستم‌ ( Definite Clause Grammar) DCG

از جمله‌ ملحقات‌ زبان‌ برنامه‌نويسي‌ كامپيوتري‌ prolog مي‌باشد، يعني‌ زباني‌ كه‌ در اصل‌بمنظور پردازش‌ داده‌ها و مفروضات‌ زبانشناختي‌ طراحي‌ شده‌ است‌. يكي‌ از خصوصيات‌ عمده‌سيستم‌ DCG آنست‌ كه‌ كاربر در مراحل‌ تجزيه‌ و تحليل‌ جمله‌ دسترسي‌ كمتري‌ به‌ مراحل‌اجرائي‌ و نحوه‌ پردازش‌ دارد، بنابراين‌ قدرت‌ مانور محدود مي‌شود ولي‌ كارآئي‌ سيستم‌ درمقايسه‌ با ANT بهتر ارزيابي‌ شده‌ است‌.

4- سيستم‌ Lexical - Functional Grammar) LFG )

سيستمي‌ است‌ كه‌ در سال‌ 1981 با همت‌ R.Kaplan , Joan , Bresnan ابداع‌ شده‌ وبراساس‌ ساختار سازه‌ها عمل‌ مي‌كند. مكانيسم‌ اين‌ سيستم‌ به‌ گونه‌اي‌ است‌ كه‌ با خلق‌ سازه‌ساختاري‌ يعني‌ C-structure و F-structure، اطلاعات‌ نحوي‌ لازم‌ به‌ نمودار درختي‌ منتقل‌مي‌شود. yasukawa بر اين‌ باور است‌ كه‌ مي‌توان‌ بين‌ سيستمهاي‌ LFG و DCG همسوئي‌ وسازش‌ مطلق‌ ايجاد كرد، ولي‌ با عنايت‌ به‌ مكانيسم‌ LFG و تكيه‌ بر وجود ساختار سازه‌اي‌ تجريدي‌ حاكم‌ و مسلط بر ساختار واژه‌ها، تطبيق‌ اين‌ دو سيستم‌ بدون‌ انجام‌ تغييرات‌ لازم‌ در كل‌سيستم‌ آسان‌ بنظر نمي‌رسد، قابل‌ توجه‌ آنكه‌ LFG بر پايه‌ Constituency syntax طراحي‌شده‌ است‌.

5-سيستم Generalized Phrase Structure Grammar) GPSG )

اين‌ parser از كار و تحقيقات‌ Gerald Gazdar نشأت‌ گرفته‌ و بر مبناي‌ دستور زايش‌-گشتاري‌ طراحي‌ شده‌ و مي‌كوشد قواعد نحوي‌ را با قواعد معناشناختي‌ مرتبط كند. عليرغم‌ آنكه‌مبناي‌ كار دستور زايش‌ - گشتاري‌ است‌ نه‌ از قواعد گشتارها بهره‌ مي‌جويد نه‌ از ژرف‌ ساخت‌;منحصراً روساخت‌ ملاك‌ است‌ و به‌ اين‌ سبب‌، اين‌ رهيافت‌ كه‌ جنبه‌ صوري‌ آن‌ چشمگيرتر است‌در سيستم‌ ترجمه‌ بيشتر با اقبال‌ و استقبال‌ روبرو مي‌شود.

بايد توجه‌ داشت‌ كه‌ گشتارهابمنظور تبيين‌ ويژگي‌ توليد تعدادي‌ نامحدود جملات‌ از يك‌ سري‌ قاعده‌هاي‌ محدود، بوسيله‌چمسكي‌ و بسال‌ 1957 ارائه‌ شد. GPSG با اين‌ مسئله‌ به‌ گونه‌اي‌ ديگر برخورد مي‌كند.در اينجافرض‌ بر اين‌ اصل‌ استوار است‌ كه‌ تعدادي‌ syntagma استاندارد بنام‌ مقولات‌ اشتقاقي‌ وجوددارد كه‌ ديگر syntagmaها از آنها مشتق‌ مي‌شوند.

ج‌) معناشناسي‌

مشكل‌ چندمعنايي‌ بودن‌ واژه‌ها، شناخته‌ شده‌ترين‌ ويژگي‌ زبانهاي‌ طبيعي‌ است‌ و اين‌ امرزائيده‌ قانوني‌ است‌ كه‌ در زبان‌شناسي ‌ تحت‌ عنوان‌ اقتصاد كلامي ‌ economie langagiereاشتهار يافته‌ است

مترجم‌ به‌ هنگام‌ برخورد به‌ واژه‌ چند معنا، با تكيه‌ بر توانش‌ زباني‌ competence خود وبافتار و موضوع‌ متن‌ مي‌تواند معادل‌ واقعي‌ واژه‌ را تشخيص‌ دهد و برگزيند. رايانه‌ فاقد چنين‌توانشي‌ است‌. بنابراين‌ طراح‌ ماشين‌ ترجمه‌ ناگزير است‌ مقدماتي‌ فراهم‌ سازد و در الگوريتم‌; به‌تمهيداتي‌ دست‌ يازد كه‌ از طريق‌ آن‌ بتواند خلأ موجود را ترميم‌ كند. اين‌ تمهيدات‌ بايد از نخستين‌مراحل‌ پردازش‌ يعني‌ از مرحله‌ واژگان‌ و نحو و ساختار آغاز گردد و تا آخرين‌ مرحله‌ يعني‌مرحله‌ تجزيه‌ و تحليل‌ معناشناختي‌ متن‌ تداوم‌ يابد. با پذيرش‌ اين‌ واقعيت‌ كه‌ نمي‌توان‌ پروسه‌پيچيده‌ و كاملا انتزاعي‌ معناشناسي‌ را در اين‌ مختصر تشريح‌ كرد، ناچاريم‌ به‌ ذكر چند نمونه‌مثال‌ ساده‌ بسنده‌ كنيم‌، شايد از اين‌ رهگذر درك‌ مطلب‌ ميسر گردد. مثالهاي‌ زير مي‌تواندروشنگر مضمون‌ باشد، كلمه‌ prime در زبان‌ انگليسي‌ يك‌ مقوله‌ دستوري‌، چهار مقوله‌ معنايي‌و 16 معنا دارد. واژه‌ suspect نيز به‌ سه‌ مقوله‌ دستوري‌ (اسم‌ و فعل‌ و صنعت‌) تعلق‌ دارد وداراي‌ شش‌ مقوله‌ معنايي‌ و 21 معناست‌، minister نيز دو مقوله‌ گرامري‌، شش‌ مقوله‌ معنايي‌ و11 معنا دارد.

قاعدتŠ ماشين‌ ترجمه‌ مي‌تواند 1280 معادل‌ فارسي‌ را براي‌ تعبير The prime suspectانتخاب‌ كند. ولي‌ اگر سيستم‌ در پردازش‌ واژگان‌ و ساختارها دقيق‌ عمل‌ كرده‌ باشد تعدادانتخابها به‌ 32 و در نهايت‌ اگر در مرحله‌ پردازش‌ معنا، منطقي‌ با قضايا برخورد كند و فرهنگ‌معناشناختي‌ تدوين‌ شده‌ براساس‌ اصول‌ زبان‌شناسي‌ رايانه‌اي‌ در اختيار داشته‌ باشد، سيستم‌منحصراً تنها گزينه‌ را انتخاب‌ خواهد كرد. براساس‌ همين‌ محاسبه‌ تعداد معادل‌هاي‌ محتمل‌فارسي‌ prime minister در سيستم‌هاي‌ ماشين‌ ترجمه‌ عادي‌ 176 خواهد بود. ولي‌ اگر درمراحل‌ قبلي‌، براساس‌ معيارهاي‌ دقيق‌، پردازش‌ها صورت‌ گرفته‌ باشد، تعداد معادل‌ها به‌ 112 ودر نهايت‌ به‌ تنها انتخاب‌ صحيح‌ دست‌ خواهد يافت‌. واژه‌ سه‌ حرفي‌ run را درنظر مي‌گيريم‌، اين‌واژه‌ دو مقوله‌ دستوري‌ و 58 مقوله‌ معنايي‌ و بيش‌ از 140 معنا دارد. تنها، سيستمي‌ قادر خواهدبود كه‌ معناي‌ مناسب‌ اين‌ واژه‌ را برگزيند كه‌ با استعانت‌ از الگوريتمي‌ قوي‌ و فرهنگ‌معناشناختي‌ جامع‌ بتواند مؤلفه‌هاي‌ معناشناختي‌ را در طول‌ پردازش‌ and و or كند.

نظري‌ گذرا بر سابقه‌ ماشين‌ ترجمه

در طي‌ چند دهه‌ اخير و همزمان‌ با گسترش‌ و پيشرفت‌ زبان‌شناسي‌ رايانه‌اي‌، در بسياري‌از كشورهاي‌ پيشرفته‌، تلاشهاي‌ همه‌جانبه‌ و پيگير در جهت‌ ترجمه‌ متون‌ از طريق‌ كامپيوترانجام‌ گرفته‌ و حاصل‌ كار با توجه‌ به‌ تنگناها و مسائل‌ خاص‌ ترجمه‌ درخور توجه‌ بوده‌ است‌. اين‌حقيقت‌ را بايد گفت‌ و پذيرفت‌ كه‌ ترجمه‌ متون‌ از طريق‌ كامپيوتر محدوديت‌هاي‌ خاص‌ خودداشته‌ است‌. در بعضي‌ از زمينه‌ها حاصل‌ كاركرد واقعا رضايت‌بخش‌ است‌ ولي‌ در بعضي‌موارد نتايج‌ به‌ دست‌ آمده‌ را علي‌رغم‌ قابل‌ فهم‌ بودن‌- بايد ويراستاري‌ كرد. طبيعتا نوع‌ متن‌ وميزان‌ غموض‌ و پيچيدگي‌ آن‌ در بازدهي‌ امر كاملا ذي‌مدخل‌ مي‌باشد.

نوشته: دکتر فرج الله خداپرستی

منبع: http://www.tarjome.org

محمد قاضی

محمد قاضی از مترجمان برجسته دوره معاصر ایران است. وی ۵۰ سال ترجمه کرد و نوشت و نتیجه تلاش او ۶۸ اثر اعم از ترجمه ادبی و آثار خود او به زبان فارسی است. از آثار مهم ترجمه‌شده توسط او می‌توان به دن کیشوت اثر سروانتس، نان و شراب اثر ایناتسیو سیلونه، آزادی یا مرگ، در زیر یوغ نام برد. او بیشتر از زبان فرانسه به فارسی ترجمه می‌کرد.

زندگی

محمد قاضی فرزند میرزا عبدالخالق قاضی در ۱۲ مرداد ۱۲۹۲ در شهر مهاباد به دنیا آمد. میرزا عبدالخالق، امام جمعه مهاباد بود. محمد قاضی آموختن زبان فرانسه را در مهاباد نزد شخصی به‌نام آقای گیو، از کردان عراق، آغاز کرد. قاضی در سال ۱۳۰۸ با کمک عموی خود میرزا جواد قاضی که از آلمان دیپلم حقوق گرفته‌بود و در وزارت دادگستری آن‌زمان کار می‌کرد، به تهران آمد و در سال ۱۳۱۵ از دارالفنون در رشته ادبی دیپلم گرفت.

او در مهرماه ۱۳۲۰ به استخدام وزارت دارایی درآمد. در ۱۳۵۴ به سرطان حنجره و از دست دادن تارهای صوتی دچار شد و بازنشسته شد. او چندی با کانون پرورش کودکان و نوجوانان در تهران نیز همکاری داشت.

قاضی در سحرگاه چهارشنبه ۲۴ دی‌ ۱۳۷۶ در بیمارستان دی در سن ۸۴ سالگی در خیابان ولی‌عصر تهران درگذشت. همسر وی که «ایران» نام داشت پیش از او درگذشته‌بود. با اینکه قاضی سال‌ها در تهران (خیابان عباس‌آباد) ساکن بود ولی او را در مهاباد به‌خاک سپردند.

نجف دریابندری، مترجم شهیر ایرانی، ترجمه "دن کیشوت" توسط او را بسیار می ستاید و از بهترین ترجمه‌های فارسی می‌داند. این نظر از جمله در کتاب "یک گفت و گو" (با ناصر حریری) بیان شده است.

آثار ترجمه

از آثار مهم ترجمه‌شده توسط محمد قاضی می‌توان از این کتب نام برد:

· جزیره پنگوئن‌ها (اثر آناتول فرانس)

· چهل روز موسی داغ اثر فرانتز ورفل (ترجمه‌شده در ۱۳۷۳ خ.)

· درد ملت (ترجمه به همراه احمد قاضی از رمان کردی «ژانی گه‌ل»‌ نوشته ابراهیم احمد)

· دن کیشوت اثر سروانتس (ترجمه‌شده در ۱۳۱۶ خ.)

· زوربای یونانی اثر نیکوس کازانتزاکیس

· شازده کوچولو، سنت اگزوپری، ۱۳۳۳ خ.

· صلاح‌الدین ایوبی اثر آلبر شاندور.

· قلعه مالویل

· کمون پاریس

· مسیح بازمصلوب

· نان و شراب

· آدم‌ها و خرچنگ‌ها

· آزادی یا مرگ

· ایالات نامتحد (اثر ولادیمیر پوزنر)

· باخانمان

· بردگان سیاه

· پولینا چشم و چراغ کوهپایه

· تاریخ ارمنستان

· تاریخ مردمی آمریکا

· خداحافظ گری کوپر

· داستان کودکی من

· در زیر یوغ

· در نبردی مشکوک

· ساده‌دل از ولتر، ۱۳۳۳خ.

· سپیددندان (جک لندن)، ترجمه در ۱۳۳۱ خ.

· سرمایه‌داری آمریکا

· سمرقند

· شاهزاده و گدا اثر مارک تواین، ترجمه ۱۳۳۳ خ.

· غروب فرشتگان اثر پاسكال چاكماكيان

· فاجعه سرخپوستان آمریکا

· کرد و کردستان، نوشته واسیلی نیکیتین

· کلود ولگرد (اثر ویکتور هوگو)، ترجمه در ۱۳۱۷ خ.

· کوروش کبیر اثر آلبر شاندور

· ماجراجوی جوان

· مادر (اثر ماکسیم گورکی)

· مادر (اثر پرل باک)

تالیف

· خاطرات یک مترجم

· سرگذشت ترجمه‌های من

· زارا

مقدمه اي بر يادگيري زبان انگليسي

مقدمه اي بر يادگيري زبان انگليسي

چرا زبان انگليسي؟

زبان توسعه یافته ترین ابزار فکری است كه براي برقراری ارتباط بین انسانها و جوامع انسانی به کار گرفته می شود. گرچه با ابزارهاي دیگری مانند علایم، رقص و هنرهای بصری همچون نقاشی و مجسمه سازی نیز می توان ارتباط برقرار نمود، اما انتقال مفاهیم پیچیده ذهنی به ساده ترین و کامل ترین شکل ممکن فقط از طریق زبان نوشتاری و گفتاری ممكن است.

اما جمعیت کره زمین به زبانهای مختلفی صحبت می کنند، زبانهایی که هرکدام به گوش دیگری غریب می آیند. طی سالیان اخیر به دلایل مختلف علمی، سیاسی، اقتصادی و فرهنگی، زبان انگلیسی تبديل به وسیله ارتباط مردمانی از فرهنگها و مليت هاي متفاوت شده است. امروزه زبان انگلیسی درفعالیتهای مالی، تجاری، آموزشی، پژوهشی وعلمی سراسر جهان به عنوان ابزار اصلی انتقال مفاهیم به کارگرفته می شود، البته زبانهاي ديگر نیز در برخی موارد نقشي کلیدی ایفا می کنند.

در دنياي امروز، اگر بخواهيد در رشته پزشکی تحصیل کنيد يا مديري موفق باشيد، دانستن زبان انگلیسی برايتان یک ضرورت به شمار می آید چرا که در آن صورت می توانيد درتجربیاتی که دیگرمردم دنیا بدست آورده اند سهیم شويد و در ارتباطي تنگاتنگ با آنان، دانش خود را به روز نگه داريد.

علاوه بر آن، دردنیایی که پیشرفت وسایل ارتباط جمعی رفته رفته آن را به دهکده ای فرضی بدل می کند ،نیاز به زبانی مشترک برای برقراري ارتباط و پیشبرد اهداف علمی-اجتماعی بشر، بیش از پیش احساس می شود. بنابراين یادگیری زبان انگلیسی که خواهی نخواهی به زبان ارتباط مردم دنیا بدل شده است دراولویت کاری تاجران، دانش پژوهان و ... قرارمی گیرد. البته منظور از يادگيري، كسب تواناييهاي لازم به اندازه سخن پردازاني مانند شکسپیرومیلتن نيست بلکه تا حدي است که بتوان دریافت کدام واژه چه مفهومی ميتواند داشته باشد.

در حال حاضر انگلیسی، زبان مادری بيش از 340 میلیون شهروند بريتانيايي، آمریکایی، کانادایی و استرالیایی است. علاوه برآن، به دلیل نفوذ نظامی، اقتصادی، علمی، سیاسی و فرهنگی دولت انگلیس در سده های هجدهم و نوزدهم میلادی وهمچنین نفوذ فرهنگی و رسانه ای آمریکا درسده بیستم و بيست و يكم، تعداد 600 میلیون نفر نیز زبان انگلیسی را به عنوان زبان دوم خود به کار می برند. میلیونها نفر دیگر در سراسر جهان در حال یاد گیری این زبان می باشند تا بخشی از نیازهای علمی-فرهنگی خود را در جوامع انسانی به شدت در هم تنیده امروزی رفع نمایند.

براي يادگيري زبان انگليسي از كجا بايد شروع كرد؟ نقطه آغازكجاست؟ چه مطالبي را بايد خواند؟ و با چه روشي؟ اينها پرسشهايي هستند كه معمولا زبان آموزان پاسخ ساده اي براي آنها پيدا نمي كنند.

به گفته بسياري از زبان شناسان، زبان يك مهارت است كه براي يادگيري آن بايد تمرين زيادي كرد. از آنجا كه فرايند يادگيري زبان بسيار كند است، اين تمرين بايد متناوب، مستمر و طولاني باشد در غيراين صورت اثر بخشي آن كم مي شود. اما منظورم از متناوب، مستمر وطولاني چيست؟

تناوب يعني مطالعه حجم محدودي از مواد درسي در فاصله هاي معين كه در مورد زبان انگليسي سه تا شش روز در هفته توصيه مي شود. استمرار يعني تكرار اين مطالعه بدون تعطيلي. متاسفانه اغلب زبان آموزان پس از مدتي مطالعه خسته شده و به خود استراحت چند هفته اي يا چند ماهه مي دهند كه اين امر در فرايند يادگيري تاثير منفي مي گذارد. و طولاني بودن يعني اين تناوب و استمرار بايد تا مدتها ادامه پيدا كند. به عبارت ديگر، زبان آموز نبايد انتظار داشته باشد كه در مدت كوتاهي، مثلا چند هفته يا حتي چند ماه، همه توقعاتش برآورده شود زيرا همانطور كه قبلا اشاره شد فرايند يادگيري زبان كند بوده و نيازمند مدت زماني در حدود دوسال است. البته اين زمان كاملا تقريبي است و بسته به ميزان تمرين روزانه، روش مطالعه و مواد درسي تغيير مي كند. به طور خلاصه بايد گفت كه قانون طلايي يادگيري زبان مطالعه حجم كمي از مطالب در فاصله زماني معين اما مداوم است.

اما اينكه مواد درسي چه باشند يا روشهاي مطالعه چگونه باشند احتياج به بحثي طولاني دارد كه سعي مي كنم كليات آنرا در اين نوشته مطرح نمايم.

نكته اي كه معمولا زبان آموزان به آن توجهي ندارند اين است كه زبان انگليسي را به چه منظور فرا مي گيرند؟ آيا تاكيد آنها بر كسب مهارتهاي گفتاري است يا مهارتهاي نوشتاري يا هر دوي آنها؟ هدف آنها هرچه باشد ذكر يك نكته بسيار پر اهميت است: تا زماني كه نمي توانيد گفته هاي يك انگليسي زبان را درك كرده و به او پاسخي مناسب دهيد، فرايند يادگيري زبان در ذهن شما كامل نشده است. به عبارت ساده تر، زماني زبان انگليسي را يادگرفته ايد كه بتوانيد ارتباط گفتاري و نوشتاري معناداري با يك انگليسي زبان برقرار كنيد. اين يعني درك كامل واژه ها، اصطلاحها و لهجه ها با همان سرعتي كه معمولا انگليسي زبانها صحبت مي كنند. پس مي بينيم كه يادگيري يك زبان به آن آساني كه در برخي آگهي ها ادعا مي شود، نيست. به همين دليل فراگيري زبانهاي مختلف، در سنين كودكي و نوجواني توصيه مي شود تا حافظه قوي و زمان كافي براي يادگيري وجود داشته باشد. با اين همه، چنانچه زبان آموز قانون طلايي را رعايت كند حتما به نتيجه اي مطلوب خواهد رسيد.

نكات كلي در مورد مواد درسي و روش مطالعه:

• مطالبي را انتخاب كنيد كه مناسب با سطح دانشتان باشد. يعني نكات دستوري و تعداد واژه هاي متن انتخابي آنقدرساده نباشد تا انگيزه مطالعه را ازدست بدهيد و يا زياد مشكل نباشد تا از رجوع مكرر به كتابهاي دستور يا فرهنگ واژه ها خسته شويد.
• تا آنجا كه ممكن است مطالبي را بخوانيد كه نوارهاي شنيداري آنها نيز در دسترس باشد. يعني آنچه را مي خوانيد، بشنويد.
• هرگز واژه ها را خارج از متن حفظ نكنيد. سعي كنيد هر واژه يا اصطلاح را درون متن فهميده و به خاطر بسپاريد. زيرا ممكن است معني بسياري از واژه ها بسته به موضوع متن و نحوه قرارگرفتن آنها درجمله تغيير كند. درضمن، مطالعه واژه ها درون يك متن سبب مي شود تا مغز رابطه اي منطقي و معنادار بين كلمات ايجاد كرده و آنها را بهتر به خاطر بسپارد.
• براي يافتن معني واژه ها از فرهنگ هاي تك زبانه اي استفاده كنيد كه واژه را توضيح داده و مثال مي آورد.
• از هر دو ورودي ذهنتان يعني گوشها و چشمها به خوبي استفاده كنيد. گوش كردن و خواندن هر دو به يك ميزان در يادگيري تاثير مي گذارند.
• هر روز يك اصطلاح يا ضرب المثل را به خاطر بسپاريد.
• به انگليسي فكر كنيد و صحبت كنيد. اين كار در ابتدا مشكل به نظر مي رسد ولي رفته رفته با وسعت دايره واژگاني تان آسانتر مي شود.
• هر مطلبي را با هر موضوعي با شرط اينكه متناسب با دانش شما باشد، مطالعه كنيد. شايد براي شروع، مطالعه داستانهاي ساده شده (simplified stories) كه بر اساس آساني و دشواري سطح بندي شده اند، مناسب باشد.
• در پايان به نوآموزان زبان انگليسي توصيه مي شود تا مطالعه زبان را با نظارت يك آموزگار شروع كنند تا با روشهاي يادگيري و منابع درسي موجود بيشتر آشنا شوند.

منبع: ماهنامه چشمه

لادو در آغاز این فصل از کتاب خود، به تعریف ساختار دستوری پرداخته و به روشنی اعلام می کند که منظور وی از grammatical structure ، دستور سنتی نیست و زبانشناسی سنتی با تعریف های قدیمی دستور زبان که برپایه سخن ادیبان و ... بوده است سروکار ندارد. بلکه ساختار دستوری مورد نظر وی، برپایه قوانین موجود در زبانشناسیِ ساختارگرا است. (فراموش نکنید که وی در دوره ی ساختارگرایی می زیسته)
بحث پیرامون اجزای ساختار دستوری و انواع عناصر ساختاری، دومین موضوع مطرح شده در این فصل است که من هر یک را بطور خلاصه توضیح می دهم:
1-1: ریخت و معنا) هر ساختار یا الگویی که ما آنرا واحد می نامیم، از ریخت و معنا تشکیل شده است. برای نمونه تفاوت book و books، از نظر معنایی، یکی یا چندتا بودن و به زبانی دیگر، مفرد یا جمع بودن آنها است. اما از نظر ساختاری، تفاوت این دو واژه در –s است.

2-1: عناصرِ ریخت که در ساختار دستوری استفاده می شوند) مهمترین این عناصر عبارتند از ترتیب واژگان (word order)، صرف (تکواژهای وابسته)، ارتباط ریخت ها، واژگان نخش نما (function words)، آهنگ (intonation)، فشار (stress) و وقفه ها (pauses).
در ادامه این بخش، لادو به بررسی هر یک از این عناصر می پردازد که چون در بخش های دیگر سایت دنبلید، با آنها آشنا شده اید، از بیانشان خود داری می کنم.

3-1: سازمان) در این قسمت، لادو به ارتباط اجزای ساختاری و دستوری زبان اشاره کرده و با آوردن نمونه هایی اثبات می کند که زبان دو ویژگی تانشی (بالقوه) دارد :

1) ویژگی تانشی تغییر.
به مثال های لادو در این باره توجه کنید:

he showed us the light house

he showed us the house light

he showed us a light house

he showed us the light house

2) ویژگی تانشی گسترش.

به مثال لادو درباره ویژگی تانشی گسترش در زبان توجه کنید:
The man who is standing over there on the deck showed some of us who are not sailors and are fearful of being lost the light house that they say is at the entrance of the bay…

علاوه بر اینها، چیزهایی در زبان انگلیسی وجود دارد که قابل تغییر نیست، اما ممکن است در زبانی دیگر تغییر پذیر باشد. برای نمونه the که با تغییر تعداد یا جنسیت تغییر نمی کند و یا light که با تغییر جنس تغییر نمی کند و اگر در جایگاهِ شناسان (modifier) باشد، تعداد نیز در آن بی تاثیر است و نیز فعلِ show که با تغییر تعداد، تغییر نمی کند مگر آنکه در زمان حال بکار رود : He shows, they show
لادو در پایانِ این بخش به نکته ای جالب اشاره می کند : هنگامیکه به این واقعیت می اندیشیم که هر انسان معمولی قادر است هزاران هزار واژه را در قالب بدنه سازمند زبان بکار برد، عظمت موهبت زبان، ما را متحیر می کند؛ موهبتی که در میان همه آفریده های زمینی خداوند، تنها به انسان داده شده است.

1-2: عادت) لادو در این قسمت، بخش عمده ای از ساختارهای دستوری استفاده شده در زبان هر انسانی را معلول عادت می داند و معتقد است که امکان ندارد یک نفر در صحبت عادی خود، حتی در یک جمله، بر روی تغییرهای تانشی یا قابلیت گسترش زبان فکر کند؛ بلکه هر انسان در هنگام سخن گفتن، بیشتر توجه خویش را به رشته ی اندیشه و چگونگی واکنش مخاطب خود معطوف کرده و کمینه ی آنرا متوجه ویژگی های دستوری سخن خود می کند.
(این نظر لادو، بعدها بوسیله چامسکی رد شد و اگر در آینده فرصتی شد، درباره آنچه که چامسکی زمینه ی خدادادی یادگیری و تجزیه و تحلیل زبان در مغز انسان می داند در سایت دنبلید بحث خواهیم نمود)

3. اشکال ها در یادگیری ساختار دستوری زبان خارجی

1-3 : انتقال) گرایش به انتقال ساختار دستوری زبان مادری به زبان خارجی وجود دارد و حتی در مواردی که ریخت و معنا منتقل می شوند، تمایل به انتقال ”توزیع دستوری“ نیز وجود دارد. نگارنده در این زمینه، مثالِ telephone books را می آورد و یادآوری می کند که در زبان انگلیسی، ”شناسان“ علامت جمع نمی گیرد. اما در در برخی زبانها، شناسان نیز علامت جمع می پذیرد و ممکن است زبان آموز این توزیع دستوری را وارد زبان انگلیسی کند.
لادو معتقد است که حذف یک اشتباه انتقال یافته به زبان خارجی از سوی زبان آموز، همان قدر دشوار است که حذف آن از زبان مادری!

2-3 : شباهت و اختلاف، بعنوان عوامل تعیین کننده سهولت و اشکال) یادگیریِ ساختارهای مشابه با زبان مادری، آسانتر و یادگیری ساختارهای متفاوت از زبان مادری، دشوارتر است. از نظر لادو، می توان برای سنجش اینکه یک فرد چه میزان از زبان را آموخته است، توان وی در تسلط بر ساختارهای متفاوت را آزمود.

3-3 : خلاقیت در مقایسه با فهم) تاثیر انتقال در هنگام سخن گفتن و شنیدن زبان یکی نیست. در هنگام سخن گفتن، زبان آموز معنای مورد نظر خود را برگزیده و با استفاده از ریختٍ موجود برای این معنا در زبان مادری اش، آنرا بازگو می کند، اما در هنگام شنیدن، وی ریخت را می شنود و آنرا به معنای احتمالی اش در زبان مادری ربط می دهد.
شاید در نگاه نخست، اثر این دو پدیده یکسان بنظر رسد، اما در واقع میان این دو تفاوت بسیار است. برای نمونه، حذفِ –s سوم شخص در جمله های پرسشی برای بسیاری از زبان آموزان دشوار است. بسیاری از دانش آموزان، جمله ی ”آیا او می تواند انگلیسی صحبت کند؟“ را بصورت ”Can he speaks English?“ به زبان می آورند. این تنها یک اشکال گویشی است؛ چراکه زبان آموز با شنیدن Can he speak English? که جمله صحیح است، به آسانی متوجه معنای آن می شود.

4-3 : آنچه از نظر ریخت، اختلاف بوجود می آورد و در نتیجه باعث اشکال می شود)

1-4-3 : ابزار انتقال یکسان، نمونه ی متفاوت : واژگان نخش نما) واژه نخش نمای who در عبارت who came?، تقریبا برابر با quien در عبارت اسپانیایی quien vino? است. یک انگلیسی زبان، کافی است معادل اسپانیایی را جایگزین معادل زبان مادری کند.

2-4-3 : ابزار انتقال یکسان، نمونه ی متفاوت : ترتیب واژگان) در زبان انگلیسی، شناسان اگر یک واژه باشد، پیش از هسته (head) می آید. برای نمونه garden flower گل است و flower garden باغ است. همچنین اگر شناسان یک عبارت باشد، پس از هسته می آید. برای نمونه : a man with a toothache
در زبان چینی نیز ترتیب واژگان، نمایشگر شناسان و هسته است، اما در این زبان همیشه شناسان پیش از هسته می آید؛ چه شناسان یک واژه و چه یک عبارت باشد. بنا براین، یک چینی هنگام آموختن زبان انگلیسی باید بیاموزد که عبارت های شناسان را پس از هسته قرار دهد و یک انگلیسی هنگام آموختن زبان چینی باید بیاموزد که عبارت شناسان را پیش از هسته بگذارد.
در اینجا دشواری زبان آموز چینی بیشتر است. چراکه وی باید از سازمان تک الگویی، وارد سازمان دو الگویی شود. اما زبان آموز انگلیسی از سازمان دو الگویی، وارد سازمان تک الگویی می شود.

3-4-3 : ابزار انتقال یکسان، نمونه ی متفاوت : همخوانی ریخت ها) برای نمونه، در زبان انگلیسی جمله ی the car runs را در نظر بگیرید. –s درفعل این جمله، در هنگام جمع، حذف می شود. یعنی فعل و فاعل همخوانی دارند. در زبان اسپانیایی، el coche corre، معادل همین جمله است ولی در هنگام جمع، -s نشانه جمع فاعل است و با افزوده شدنِ –n به فعل، همخوانی میان ریخت ها بوجود می آید : los coches corren.
دشواری زبان آموز اسپانیایی در اینجا کمتر از زبان آموز انگلیسی است. (چرا؟)

4-4-3 : ابزار انتقال گوناگون : ترتیب واژگان در یک زبان، در مقابل آهنگ در زبانی دیگر) در زبان انگلیسی، برای پرسشی کردن جمله ی You are a student، ترتیب واژگان عوض شده و می گوییم: Are you a student . اما در زبان اسپانیایی برای پرسشی کردن جمله ی Usted es un estudiante، کافی است آهنگ پایان جمله را بالا بریم. در اینجا، زبان آموز انگلیسی یا اسپانیایی برای آموختن ابزار انتقال متفاوت، دچار اشکال خواهد شد.

5-4-3 : ابزار انتقال گوناگون : ترتیب واژگان در یک زبان، در مقابل واژگان نخش نما در زبانی دیگر) برای نمونه، در زبان تایلندی جمله ی Khaw pen nakrien یعنی او یک دانش آموز است. برای پرسشی کردن این جمله کافیست واژه ی نخش نمای ry را به آخر آن بیافزاییم : khaw pen nakrien ry? . چون ترتیب واژگان تغییری نکرده است، تنها فرق میان دو جمله، افزایش یک واژه ی نخش نما است. بنابراین زبان آموز تایلندی، برای آموختن ابزار انتقال انگلیسی برای جمله های پرسشی (ترتیب واژگان) دچار اشکال خواهد شد.

6-4-3: ابزار انتقال گوناگون : ترتیب واژگان در یک زبان، در مقابله با صرف در زبانی دیگر) مفعول باواسطه که در زبان انگلیسی با ترتیب واژگان معین می شود، در زبان لاتین با استفاده از صرف مشخص می گردد. نمونه:

1-The dauther give her mother a coat.

2-The mother gives her daughter a coat.

3-Matri filia vestem dat.

4-Mater fili& vestem dat.

در مثال دوم لاتین، با استفاده از صرف، مادر در جایگاه نهادی و دختر در جایگاه مفعولی بایی‌(باواسطه) قرار گرفته است.

7-4-3 : ابزار انتقال گوناگون : واژه ی نخش نما در یک زبان، در مقابل صرف در زبانی دیگر) عبارت ”من خواهم رفت“ در زبان اسپانیایی بصورت ire بکار می رود و ابزار انتقال آن صرف است؛ درحالیکه همین عبارت در زبان انگلیسی بصورت I will go بکار می رود و ابزار انتقال آن will است که واژه ای است نخش نما.
لادو می گوید که تجربیات شخصی وی باعث شده که وی بر این گمان باشد که دشواری زبان آموزی که از روش واژه ی نخش نما، وارد روش صرفی می شود، دشوارتر است.

منبع: دانشنامه رشد

آواشناسی گویشی (Articulatory Phonetics):
این گرایش از آواشناسی، به بررسی چگونگی تولید صدا بوسیله اندامهای صوتی انسان می پردازد.

صدای اولیه (صدای خام) در گلوی انسان، با وزش هوای شش ها از تارهای صوتی تولید می شود. بنا براین، اندازه تارهای صوتی، نسبت مستقیم با کیفیت صدای انسان دارد. همچنین انسان با نزدیک و دور کردن و تغییر میزان لرزش تارهای صوتی، بسامد صدای خویش را تنظیم می کند. بسامد فردی با صدای بم ، بین 75 تا 150 هرتز (سیکل در ثانیه) است. کسانی که صدای سوپرانو دارد (خانم ها یا دخترانی که صدای بسیار زیر دارند)، حتی می توانند آوایی با بسامد بیش از 400 هرتز تولید کنند. کوتاهی یا بلندی صدای انسان نیز وظیفه ی تارهای صوتی است و به ”دامنه ی نوسان“ صدا بستگی دارد.

البته باید توجه داشت که هیچیک از این اعمال، خودآگاهانه صورت نمی گیرد؛ بلکه این مغز آدمی است که از زمان تولد، بصورت از پیش برنامه ریزی شده، با همه فرکانس های صوتی آشنایی دارد و می داند که مثلا برای صدای گریه یا جیغ یا... چه بسامدی مورد نیاز است و این بسامد را چگونه می توان با استفاده از دو تار صوتی تولید کرد. دو تصویر زیر، تارهای صوتی را در حالتهای باز و بسته، نشان می دهد:

در مرحله بعد، صدای خام با پیچش و عبور از حفره های دهانی و بینی (دماغی)، طنین دار می شود. بنابراین، یک خواننده خوش صدا، هم تارهای صوتی و هم حفره های دهانی و بینی مناسبی دارد.
زبان و دیگر موانع موجود در حفره دهانی، هنگام عبور صدا از این حفره، آنرا به آواهای گویشی تبدیل می کند. به تصویر زیر توجه کنید:

چون اصطلاحات کاربردی در آواشناسی، همگی لاتین هستند، لازم است نامهای انگلیسی تصویر بالا را به خاطر بسپاریم؛ با این حال، برای آسانتر شدن کار، ترجمه فارسی واژگان مورد بحث را در پی آورده ام:

Oral cavity: حفره دهانی vocal cords: تارهای صوتی

Nasal cavity: حفره بینی (hard) palate: سخت کام

Uvula: زبان کوچک velum (soft palate): نرم کام

Larynx: نایسر (حنجره) lip: لب

Glottis: چاکنای(ته حلق) teeth: دندانها

Alveolar ridge: لثه tongue: زبان

Apix: جلوی زبان tip (of the tongue): نوک زبان

هنگام نامگذاری بر روی صداها، از صفت استفاده می کنیم. مثلا به صداهایی که بوسیله دو لب تولید می شوند، می گوییم صداهای "دو لبی". جدول زیر، صفتهای مورد نیاز برای نامگذاری آواهای گویشی را نشان می دهد:


Dental	tooth
velar	velum
Alveolar	Alveolar ridge
labial	lip
Palatal	palate
Glottal	glottis
nasal	Nasal cavity

الف) آواهای همخوان (Consonants) محل تولید آواها: نکته: وقتی حرفی را درون / / قرار می دهیم، صدای آن حرف، مورد نظرمان است. پس /p/ را نباید "پی" تلفظ کرد. 1) bilabial: آواهایی که با همکاری دو لب بوجود می آیند. مثل /p/ ، /b/ و /w/. 2) labiodental: آواهایی که با همکاری دندانهای بالا و لب پایین بوجود می آیند. مثل: /f/ و /v/. 3) apico-dental: آواهایی که با همکاری جلوی زبان و دندانها، تولید می شود. مثل: /T/ و /D/. 4) apico-alveolar: صداهایی که با همکاری جلوی زبان و لثه ها، بوجود می آیند: /t/، /d/، /s/، /z/، /n/، /l/، و /r/. 5) fronto-palatal: آواهایی که با همکاری زبان و سخت کام، تولید می شوند. مانند: /S/، /Z/، /tS/، /dZ/، /y/. 6) velar (dorso-velar): آواهایی که با همکاری انتهای زبان و نرم کام، بوجود می آیند. مانند: /k/، /g/. 7) glottal: آواهایی که در حلق تولید می شوند. مانند: /h/ و /?/ . 8) uvular: صداهایی که بوسیله زبان کوچک تولید می شوند. در انگلیسی، صدای یوویولار وجود ندارد. در فارسی صدای /غ/ (/G/)، یوویولار است. روش تولید آواها: 1) :stop برای تولید این آواها، ابتدا راه هوا کاملا بسته شده و سپس هوا ناگهان رها می شود. مانند: /p/، /b/، /t/، /d/، /k/ ، /g/ ، /?/و /G/. 2) fricative: آواهای فرسایشی که برای تولید آنها، مسیر هوا بوسیله یکی از دستگاههای صوتی دهان، نیمه بسته می ماند و هوا برای عبور، حالتی فرسایشی به خود می گیرد. مثل: /f/، /v/، /T/، /D/، /s/، /z/، /S/، /Z/ و /h/. 3) affricate: آواهایی که از ترکیب stop و fricative، بدست می آیند. در انگلیسی و فارسی، صدای /tS/، از ترکیب /ت/ و /ش/؛ و صدای /dZ/، از ترکیب /د/ و /ژ/، بوجود آمده است. 4) nasal: آواهایی که با عبور صدای خام از حفره بینی، بوجود می آیند. مانند: /m/، /n/ و ./N/ 5) trill: صداهایی که با حالت لرزشی ایجاد می شوند. در فارسی و انگلیسی، صدای /r/، تنها صدای لرزشی است. 6) lateral: آواهای که با عبور هوا از کناره های زبان، تولید می شوند. مانند: /l/. 7) glide (semi-vowel): آواهای نیمواک یا نیمه مصوت مانند: /w/ و ./y/ صدای /w/، نزدیک به واکه /u:/ و صدای /y/، به واکه /I/ نزدیک است. اکنون با استفاده از دانسته های بالا، می توانیم همه آواهای بیواک در زبانهای انگلیسی و فارسی را نامگذاری کنیم. روش نامگذاری به این ترتیب است که ابتدا صدادار یا بی صدا بودن آوا، سپس محل تولید و در پایان، روش تولید آنرا می گوییم. بنابراین: /f/: voicless labio-dental fricative /b/: voiced bilabial stop /tS/: voiceless fronto-palatal affricate /G/: voiced uvular stop /w/: voiced bilabial glide برای آسانی کار، می توانید از جدول زیر استفاده کنید:

glottal	uvular	dorso-vilar	fronto-palatal	Apico-alveoalr	Apico-dental	Labio-dental	bilabial
?	G	k g		t d			p b	voiceless stop voiced
h		x	S Z	s z	T D	f v		voiceless fricative voiced
			tS dZ					voiceless Affricate voiced
		N		n			m	voiceless nasal voiced
				r				voiceless trill voiced
				l				voiceless lateral voiced
			y				w	voiceless glide voiced

ب) واکه ها (Vowels) : برای بررسی واکه های یک زبان، چند عامل را در نظر می گیریم: 1) گردی لب ها: در زبان انگلیسی برای تلفظ واکه های /O:/، /O/، /u:/ و/U/، لبها را اندکی گرد می کنیم واین آواها را rounded نامیده، بقیه را unrounded می خوانیم. 2) فاصله زبان از سقف دهان، که اگر زیاد باشد، واکه را low، اگر کم باشد، واکه را high، و اگر بینابین باشد، واکه را mid می نامیم. در واقع، فاصله کم زبان از سقف دهان، به معنی بالاتر بودن زبان است. به همین دلیل حرف تولید شده در این وضعیت را high می نامیم. 3) نقش جلو، عقب یا وسط زبان در تولید صدا که به ترتیب آواهای front، back و center را ایجاد می کند. 4) کوتاهی یا بلندی واکه: در زبان فارسی، همه واکه ها بلند (tense) هستند. اما در زبان انگلیسی، برای نمونه «او»ی کوتاه و «او»ی بلند داریم. به واکه کوتاه ، lax گفته می شود: /u:/ = tense vowel و /U/ = lax vowel. اکنون به جدول زیر توجه کنید: back Central front High / low /u:/ /I:/ High /U/ /I/ Lower-high /O:/ /@/ /e/ Mid /E:/ , /V/ Lower-mid /A/ /&/ Low /A:/ تمرین: 1) Lax central mid? 2) Tense central lower-mid? 3) Tense high front? 4) Tense central low? 5) Lax lower-high back? 6) /&/, /I/, /A/, /@/, /E:/. نکته بسیار مهم: هرگز تصور نکنید که بکار بردن واژه های tens و lax، جز در بخش آواهای central، کاری بیهوده است. هرگاه واکه های زبان های چینی و فرانسوی را نیز به جدول بالا بیافزایید، به اهمیت حیاتی این دو واژه پی خواهید برد!! ج) واکه های مرکب (Diphthongs): یک واکه ی مرکب، از ترکیب یک واکه و یک همخوان بوجود می آید. برای نمونه، آوای /@U/ (load, bone, …) را در نظر بگیرید. این آوا از ترکیب دو آوای /o/ و /u/ تشکیل شده است و بنابراین یک واکه ی مرکب به شمار می رود. دیگر واکه های مرکب در زبان انگلیسی عبارتند از‌: /aU/ (bound, round, …) از ترکیب /&/ و /u/ . /ju:/ (view, cute, …) از ترکیب /I:/ و /u/ . /eI/ (day, say, …) از ترکیب /e/ و

زندگينامه صادق هدايت

صادق هدايت در سه شنبه 28 بهمن ماه 1281 در خانه پدري در تهران تولد يافت. پدرش هدايت قلي خان هدايت (اعتضادالملك)‌ فرزند جعفرقلي خان هدايت(نيرالملك) و مادرش خانم عذري- زيورالملك هدايت دختر حسين قلي خان مخبرالدوله دوم بود. پدر و مادر صادق از تبار رضا قلي خان هدايت يكي از معروفترين نويسندگان، شعرا و مورخان قرن سيزدهم ايران ميباشد كه خود از بازماندگان كمال خجندي بوده است. او در سال 1287 وارد دوره ابتدايي در مدرسه علميه تهران شد و پس از اتمام اين دوره تحصيلي در سال 1293 دوره متوسطه را در دبيرستان دارالفنون آغاز كرد. در سال 1295 ناراحتي چشم براي او پيش آمد كه در نتيجه در تحصيل او وقفه اي حاصل شد ولي در سال 1296 تحصيلات خود را در مدرسه سن لويي تهران ادامه داد كه از همين جا با زبان و ادبيات فرانسه آشنايي پيدا كرد. در سال 1304 صادق هدايت دوره تحصيلات متوسطه خود را به پايان برد و در سال 1305 همراه عده اي از ديگر دانشجويان ايراني براي تحصيل به بلژيك اعزام گرديد. او ابتدا در بندر (گان) در بلژيك در دانشگاه اين شهر به تحصيل پرداخت ولي از آب و هواي آن شهر و وضع تحصيل خود اظهار نارضايتي مي كرد تا بالاخره او را به پاريس در فرانسه براي ادامه تحصيل منتقل كردند. صادق هدايت در سال 1307 براي اولين بار دست به خودكشي زد و در ساموا حوالي پاريس عزم كرد خود را در رودخانه مارن غرق كند ولي قايقي سررسيد و او را نجات دادند. سرانجام در سال 1309 او به تهران مراجعت كرد و در همين سال در بانك ملي ايران استخدام شد. در اين ايام گروه ربعه شكل گرفت كه عبارت بودند از: بزرگ علوي، مسعود فرزاد، مجتبي مينوي و صادق هدايت. در سال 1311 به اصفهان مسافرت كرد در همين سال از بانك ملي استعفا داده و در اداره كل تجارت مشغول كار شد.

در سال 1312 سفري به شيراز كرد و مدتي در خانه عمويش دكتر كريم هدايت اقامت داشت. در سال 1313 از اداره كل تجارت استعفا داد و در وزارت امور خارجه اشتغال يافت. در سال 1314 از وزارت امور خارجه استعفا داد. در همين سال به تامينات در نظميه تهران احضار و به علت مطالبي كه در كتاب وغ وغ ساهاب درج شده بود مورد بازجويي و اتهام قرار گرفت. در سال 1315 در شركت سهامي كل ساختمان مشغول به كار شد. در همين سال عازم هند شد و تحت نظر محقق و استاد هندي بهرام گور انكل ساريا زبان پهلوي را فرا گرفت. در سال 1316 به تهران مراجعت كرد و مجددا در بانك ملي ايران مشغول به كار شد. در سال 1317 از بانك ملي ايران مجددا استعفا داد و در اداره موسيقي كشور به كار پرداخت و ضمنا همكاري با مجله موسيقي را آغاز كرد و در سال 1319 در دانشكده هنرهاي زيبا با سمت مترجم به كار مشغول شد.

در سال 1322 همكاري با مجله سخن را آغاز كرد. در سال 1324 بر اساس دعوت دانشگاه دولتي آسياي ميانه در ازبكستان عازم تاشكند شد. ضمنا همكاري با مجله پيام نور را آغاز كرد و در همين سال مراسم بزرگداشت صادق هدايت در انجمن فرهنگي ايران و شوروي برگزار شد. در سال 1328 براي شركت در كنگره جهاني هواداران صلح از او دعوت به عمل آمد ولي به دليل مشكلات اداري نتوانست در كنگره حاضر شود. در سال 1329 عازم پاريس شد و در 19 فروردين 1330 در همين شهر بوسيله گاز دست به خودكشي زد. او 48 سال داشت كه خود را از رنج زندگي رهانيد و مزار او در گورستان پرلاشز در پاريس قرار دارد. او تمام مدت عمر كوتاه خود را در خانه پدري زندگي كرد.

***

سال شمار تفصيلي آثار صادق هدايت

1302	«رباعيات خيام» : كتاب مستقل
1303	«زبان حال يك الاغ به وقت مرگ»: مجله وفا سال دوم شماره 6 صفحه 164 تا 168 «انسان و حيوان»: كتاب مستقل - انتشارات بروخيم
1305	«جادوگري در ايران»: La Magie en Perse : به فارنسه در مجله فرانسوي لووال ديسيس Le Voile dIsis شماره 79 سال 31 چاپ پاريس داستان «مرگ» در مجله ايرانشهر دوره چهارم شماره 11 چاپ برلن صفحه 680 تا 682
1306	«فوايد گياهخواري»: كتاب مستقل- چاپ برلين
1308	«زنده به گور» «اسير فرانسوي»
1309	«پروين دختر ساسان»: كتاب مستقل- كتابخانه فردوسي مجموعه «زنده به گور» مشتمل بر داستانهاي: زنده به گور اسير فرانسوي داود گوژپشت مادلن آتش پرست آبجي خانم مرده خورها آب زندگي
1310	«سايه مغول» در مجموعه انيران - مطبعه فرهومند «كور و برادرش: ترجمه از آرتور شينسلر Arthur Schnitzler نويسنده اطريشي، مجله افسانه، دوره سوم، شماره 4 و 5 «كلاغ پير»: ترجمه از الكساندر لانژكيلاند Alexandre Lange Kielland نويسنده نروژي، مجله افسانه، دوره 3، شماره 11، صفحه 1- 5 «تمشك تيغ دار»: ترجمه از آنتوان چخوف روسي Anton Pavlovitch Tchekhov ، مجله افسانه، دوره 3، شماره 23، صفحه 1 -51 «مرداب حبشه»: ترجمه از كاستن شراو نويسنده فرانسوي Gaston Cherau ، مجله افسانه، دوره 3، شماره 28 «درد دل ميرزا يداله»: مجله افسانه، دوره 3، جزوه 28، صفحه 1- 2 كه بعدا به نام داستان محلل چاپ شد «مشاور مخصوص»: ترجمه از آنتوان چخوف، مجله افسانه، سال سوم، شماره 28 «حكايت با نتيجه»: مجله افسانه، دوره 3، شماره 31، صفحه 2 -3 «شب هاي ورامين»: مجله افسانه، دوره سوم، شماره 32، صفحه 10 -15 «اوسانه: قطع جيبي» - نشريه آريان كوده «جادوگري در ايران»: ترجمه از فرانسه، مجله جهان نو، سال دوم، شماره اول، صفحه 60 -80
1311	«اصفهان نصف جهان»: كتاب مستقل-كتابخانه خاور مجموعه «سه قطره خون» مشتمل بر داستانهاي: سه قطره خون گرداب داش آكل آينه شكسته طلب آمرزش لاله صورتك ها چنگال ها محلل «چطور ژاندارك دوشيزه اورلئان شده؟» مقدمه صادق هدايت به كتاب «دوشيزه اورلئان» اثر شيلر - ترجمه بزرگ علوي - صفحه الف تا خ
1312	مجموعه «سايه روشن» مشتمل بر داستانهاي: س.گ.ل.ل زني كه مردش را گم كرد عروسك پشت پرده آفرينگان شب هاي ورامين آخرين لبخند پدران آدم «نيرنگستان»- كتاب مستقل «مازيار»- كتاب مستقل با همكاري مجتبي مينوي «علويه خانم»- كتاب مستقل
1313	«وغ وغ ساهاب»- كتاب مستقل با همكاري مسعود فرزاد «ترانه هاي خيام»- كتاب مستقل - مطبعه روشنايي «البعثه الاسلاميه في البلاد الافرنجيه» - كتاب مستقل « شرط بندي» ترجمه از آنتوان چخوف در مجموعه گل هاي رنگارنگ
1315	«بوف كور» كتاب مستقل - چاپ پلي كپي شده «كارنامه اردشير پاپكان» ترجمه از متون پهلوي ضمنا شامل « زند و هومن يسن» ترجمه از متون پهلوي
1318	«ترانه هاي عاميانه» - مجله موسيقي، سال اول، شماره هاي 6، صفحه 17 - 19. 4 و 7 صفحه 24 و 28. «متل هاي فارسي» - مجله موسيقي، شماره 8 قصه هاي «آقاموشه»، «شنگول و منگول» - مجله موسيقي، سال اول، شماره 8 قصه «لچك كوچولوي قرمز» - مجله موسيقي، سال دوم، شماره 2
1319	«چايكووسكي» - مجله موسيقي، سال دوم، شماره 3، خردادماه، صفحه 25 - 32 «پيرامون لغت فرس اسدي» - مجله موسيقي، سال دوم، شماره 11 و 12، صفحه 31 - 36 «شيوه نوين در تحقيق ادبي» - مجله موسيقي، سال دوم، شماره 11 و 12، صفحه 19 - 30 «گجسته اباليش» - ترجمه از متن پهلوي
1320	«داستان ناز» در مجله موسيقي سال سوم شماره دوم، صفحه 38-30 «شيوه هاي نوين در شعر فارسي» در مجله سوم شماره 3، صفحه 22 «سنگ صبور» مجله موسيقي سال سوم، شماره 6 و 7، صفحه 18-13
1321	مجموعه «سگ ولگرد» شامل داستانهاي سگ ولگرد دن ژوان كرج بن بست كاتيا تخت ابونصر تجلي تاريكخانه ميهن پرست «شهرستانهاي ايران»: ترجمه از متن پهلوي، مجله مهر، سال هشتم، شماره اول، صفحه 47 - 55، شماره دوم، صفحه 127 - 131 و شماره سوم،صفحه 168 - 175 داستان «آب زندگي»: انتشارات فرهنگ تهران بخش هايي از «بوف كور»: مجله ايران «بن بست»: چاپ فرانسه 1942 Limpasse
1322	«علويه خانم»: كتاب مستقل «گزارش گمان شكن» - ترجمه از متن پهلوي «يادگار جاماسب» - ترجمه از متن پهلوي، مجله سخن، سال اول، شماره 3،صفحه 161 - 167، شماره 4 و 5،صفحه 217- 220 ترجمه «گورستان زنان خيانتكار»: از آرتور كريستين سن خاورشناس دانماركي، مجله سخن، سال اول، شماره 7 و 8 «جلو قانون»: ترجمه از فرانتس كافكا Frantz Kafka در مجله سخن، شماره 11 و 12 «كارنامه اردشير پاپكان» - ترجمه از متن پهلوي «چگونه نويسنده نشدم» - مجله سخن
1323	«آب زندگي» - روزنامه مردم «اوراشيما» - قصه ژاپوني - ترجمه در مجله سخن، سال دوم، شماره اول، صفحه 43 - 45 نقد «بازرس»: اثر گوگول، ترجمه در مجله پيام نو، سال اول، صفحه 52 «ملا نصرالدين در بخارا»: مجله پيام نو،سال اول، شماره اول،صفحه 57 «زند و هومن يسن» - ترجمه از متن پهلوي «ولنگاري» مجموعه داستانهاي: قضيه مرغ روح قضيه زير بته قضيه فرهنگستان قضيه دست بر قضا قضيه خر دجال قضيه نمك تركي
1324	«حاجي آقا» - كتاب مستقل نقد «خاموشي دريا»: اثر وركور - مجله سخن، سال دوم،شماره سوم،صفحه 227 - 228 «چند نكته درباره ويس و رامين» - مجله پيام نو،سال اول،شماره نهم،صفحه 15 - 19 و شماره 10، صفحه 18 - 26 - 31 «طلب آمرزش» - از كتاب سه قطره خون، مجله پيام نو، سال اول، شماره 12، صفحه 20 - 24 «شنگول و منگول»: مجله پيام نو،سال دوم، شماره سوم، صفحه 54 - 55 انتقاد بر ترجمه رساله «غفران» ابوالعلاء معري، مجله پيام نو، سال دوم، شماره 9، صفحه 64 «فلكلر يا فرهنگ توده» - مجله سخن،‌سال دوم، شماره 3، صفحه 179 – 184 و شماره 4، صفحه 339 – 342 «طرح كلي براي كاوش فلكلر يك منطقه» - مجله سخن، سال دوم، شماره 4، صفحه 265- 275 «شغال و عرب» - ترجمه فرانتس كافكا،‌مجله سخن،‌سال دوم، شماره 5، صفحه 349 «آمدن شاه بهرام ورجاوند» - ترجمه از متن پهلوي، مجله سخن، سال دوم، شماره 7، صفحه 540 «خط پهلوي و الفباي صوتي»- مجله سخن، سال دوم، شماره 8، صفحه 616 – 760 و شماره 9، صفحه 667- 671 «ديوار» - ترجمه از ژان پل سارتر Jean Paul Sartre نويسنده فرانسوي، مجله سخن، سال دوم، شماره 11 و 12، صفحه 833 – 847 «سامپينگه» Sampingue به زبان فرانسه در ژورنال دوتهران لوناتيك Lunatique - «هوسباز» - به زبان فرانسه در ژورنال دوتهران
1325	«افسانه آفرينش» - چاپ پاريس، آدرين مزون نو «آبجي خانم» - از مجموعه زنده به گور، مجله پيام نو، سال دوم، شماره 6، ارديبهشت 1325، صفحه 31 – 36 «فردا» - مجله پيام نو، سال دوم، شماره 7 و 8، صفحه 54 – 64 ترجمه داستان «فردا» - به زبان فرانسه در ژورنال دوتهران «گراكوش شكارچي» - ترجمه از فرانتس كافكا، مجله سخن،‌سال سوم، شماره 1، صفحه 48 – 52 «قصه كدو» - مجله سخن، دوره سوم، شماره 4 «ترجمه هنر ساساني در غرفه مدال ها» - اثر «ال مور گشترن» در مجله سخن، سال سوم، شماره 5، صفحه 318 – 382 «بلبل سرگشته» در مجله سخن، سال سوم، شماره 6 و 7، صفحه 432 – 443 مقدمه كتاب «كارخانه مطلق سازي» نوشته كارل چابك، نويسنده چك اسلواكي، با ترجمه حسن قائميان
1327	«پيام كافكا» - مقدمه اي بر كتاب «گروه محكومين» فرانتس كافكا «توپ مرواري» - كتاب مستقل
1329	«مسخ» - اثر فرانتس كافكا، ترجمه با همكاري حسن قائميان
1378	مجموعه «فرهنگ عاميانه مردم ايران» مشتمل بر بخش هاي: نيرنگستان ترانه ها، متل ها، اوسانه و غيره تحقيقات صادق هدايت (چاپ براي بار اول)
1379	«انسان و حيوان» به انضمام مجله هاي صادق هدايت (چاپ براي بار اول) «حسرتي، نگاهي و آهي» - آلبوم نفيس عكس هاي صادق هدايت به مناسبت نود و هشتمين سالگرد تولد صادق هدايت با ترجمه انگليسي (28 بهمن 1281)

***

La vieuville was suddenly cut short by a cry of despair, and a the same
time a noise was heard wholly unlike any other sound. The cry and sounds
came from within the vessel.

The captain and lieutenant rushed toward the gun-deck but could not get
down. All the gunners were pouring up in dismay.

Something terrible had just happened.

One of the carronades of the battery, a twenty-four pounder, had broken
loose.

This is the most dangerous accident that can possibly take place on
shipboard. Nothing more terrible can happen to a sloop of was in open sea
and under full sail.

A cannon that breaks its moorings suddenly becomes some strange,
supernatural beast. It is a machine transformed into a monster. That short
mass on wheels moves like a billiard-ball, rolls with the rolling of the
ship, plunges with the pitching goes, comes, stops, seems to meditate,
starts on its course again, shoots like an arrow from one end of the
vessel to the other, whirls around, slips away, dodges, rears, bangs,
crashes, kills, exterminates. It is a battering ram capriciously
assaulting a wall. Add to this the fact that the ram is of metal, the wall
of wood.

It is matter set free; one might say, this eternal slave was avenging
itself; it seems as if the total depravity concealed in what we call
inanimate things has escaped, and burst forth all of a sudden; it appears
to lose patience, and to take a strange mysterious revenge; nothing more
relentless than this wrath of the inanimate. This enraged lump leaps like
a panther, it has the clumsiness of an elephant, the nimbleness of a
mouse, the obstinacy of an ox, the uncertainty of the billows, the zigzag
of the lightning, the deafness of the grave. It weighs ten thousand
pounds, and it rebounds like a child's ball. It spins and then abruptly
darts off at right angles.

And what is to be done? How put an end to it? A tempest ceases, a cyclone
passes over, a wind dies down, a broken mast can be replaced, a leak can
be stopped, a fire extinguished, but what will become of this enormous
brute of bronze. How can it be captured? You can reason with a bulldog,
astonish a bull, fascinate a boa, frighten a tiger, tame a lion; but you
have no resource against this monster, a loose cannon. You can not kill
it, it is dead; and at the same time it lives. It lives with a sinister
life which comes to it from the infinite. The deck beneath it gives it
full swing. It is moved by the ship, which is moved by the sea, which is
moved by the wind. This destroyer is a toy. The ship, the waves, the
winds, all play with it, hence its frightful animation. What is to be done
with this apparatus? How fetter this stupendous engine of destruction? How
anticipate its comings and goings, its returns, its stops, its shocks? Any
one of its blows on the side of the ship may stave it in. How foretell its
frightful meanderings? It is dealing with a projectile, which alters its
mind, which seems to have ideas, and changes its direction every instant.
How check the course of what must be avoided? The horrible cannon
struggles, advances, backs, strikes right, strikes left, retreats, passes
by, disconcerts expectation, grinds up obstacles, crushes men like flies.
All the terror of the situation is in the fluctuations of the flooring.
How fight an inclined plane subject to caprices? The ship has, so to
speak, in its belly, an imprisoned thunderstorm, striving to escape;
something like a thunderbolt rumbling above an earthquake.

In an instant the whole crew was on foot. It was the fault of the gun
captain, who had neglected to fasten the screw-nut of the mooring-chain,
and had insecurely clogged the four wheels of the gun carriage; this gave
play to the sole and the framework, separated the two platforms, and the
breeching. The tackle had given way, so that the cannon was no longer firm
on its carriage. The stationary breeching, which prevents recoil, was not
in use at this time. A heavy sea struck the port, the carronade,
insecurely fastened, had recoiled and broken its chain, and began its
terrible course over the deck.

To form an idea of this strange sliding, let one imagine a drop of water
running over a glass.

At the moment when the fastenings gave way, the gunners were in the
battery, some in groups, others scattered about, busied with the customary
work among sailors getting ready for a signal for action. The carronade,
hurled forward by the pitching of the vessel, made a gap in this crowd of
men and crushed four at the first blow; then sliding back and shot out
again as the ship rolled, it cut in two a fifth unfortunate, and knocked a
piece of the battery against the larboard side with such force as to
unship it. This caused the cry of distress just heard. All the men rushed
to the companion-way. The gun-deck was vacated in a twinkling.

The enormous gun was left alone. It was given up to itself. It was its
own master and master of the ship. It could do what it pleased. This whole
crew, accustomed to laugh in time of battle, now trembled. To describe the
terror is impossible.

Captain Boisberthelot and Lieutenant la Vieuville, although both dauntless
men, stopped at the head of the companion-way and, dumb, pale, and
hesitating, looked down on the deck below. Some one elbowed past and went
down.

It was their passenger, the peasant, the man of whom they had just been
speaking a moment before.

Reaching the foot of the companion-way, he stopped.

The cannon was rushing back and forth on the deck. One might have supposed
it to be the living chariot of the Apocalypse. The marine lantern swinging
overhead added a dizzy shifting of light and shade to the picture. The
form of the cannon disappeared in the violence of its course, and it
looked now black in the light, now mysteriously white in the darkness.

It went on in its destructive work. It had already shattered four other
guns and made two gaps in the side of the ship, fortunately above the
water-line, but where the water would come in, in case of heavy weather.
It rushed frantically against the framework; the strong timbers withstood
the shock; the curved shape of the wood gave them great power of
resistance; but they creaked beneath the blows of this huge club, beating
on all sides at once, with a strange sort of ubiquity. The percussions of
a grain of shot shaken in a bottle are not swifter or more senseless. The
four wheels passed back and forth over the dead men, cutting them, carving
them, slashing them, till the five corpses were a score of stumps rolling
across the deck; the heads of the dead men seemed to cry out; streams of
blood curled over the deck with the rolling of the vessel; the planks,
damaged in several places, began to gape open. The whole ship was filled
with the horrid noise and confusion.

The captain promptly recovered his presence of mind and ordered everything
that could check and impede the cannon's mad course to be thrown through
the hatchway down on the gun-deck--mattresses, hammocks, spare sails,
rolls of cordage, bags belonging to the crew, and bales of counterfeit
assignats, of which the corvette carried a large quantity--a
characteristic piece of English villainy regarded as legitimate warfare.

But what could these rags do? As nobody dared to go below to dispose of
them properly, they were reduced to lint in a few minutes.

There was just sea enough to make the accident as bad as possible. A
tempest would have been desirable, for it might have upset the cannon, and
with its four wheels once in the air there would be some hope of getting
it under control. Meanwhile, the havoc increased.

There were splits and fractures in the masts, which are set into the
framework of the keel and rise above the decks of ships like great, round
pillars. The convulsive blows of the cannon had cracked the mizzenmast,
and had cut into the mainmast.

The battery was being ruined. Ten pieces out of thirty were disabled; the
breaches in the side of the vessel were increasing, and the corvette was
beginning to leak.

The old passenger having gone down to the gun-deck, stood like a man of
stone at the foot of the steps. He cast a stern glance over this scene of
devastation. He did not move. It seemed impossible to take a step forward.
Every movement of the loose carronade threatened the ship's destruction. A
few moments more and shipwreck would be inevitable.

They must perish or put a speedy end to the disaster; some course must be
decided on; but what? What an opponent was this carronade! Something must
be done to stop this terrible madness--to capture this lightning--to
overthrow this thunderbolt.

Boisberthelot said to La Vieuville:

"Do you believe in God, chevalier?"

La Vieuville replied:

"Yes--no. Sometimes."

"During a tempest?"

"Yes, and in moments like this."

"God alone can save us from this," said Boisberthelot.

Everybody was silent, letting the carronade continue its horrible din.

Outside, the waves beating against the ship responded with their blows to
the shocks of the cannon. It was like two hammers alternating.

Suddenly, in the midst of this inaccessible ring, where the escaped cannon
was leaping, a man was seen to appear, with an iron bar in his hand. He
was the author of the catastrophe, the captain of the gun, guilty of
criminal carelessness, and the cause of the accident, the master of the
carronade. Having done the mischief, he was anxious to repair it. He had
seized the iron bar in one hand, a tiller-rope with a slip-noose in the
other, and jumped, down the hatchway to the gun-deck.

Then began an awful sight; a Titanic scene; the contest between gun and
gunner; the battle of matter and intelligence; the duel between man and
the inanimate.

The man stationed himself in a corner, and, with bar and rope in his two
hands, he leaned against one of the riders, braced himself on his legs,
which seemed two steel posts; and livid, calm, tragic, as if rooted to the
deck, he waited.

He waited for the cannon to pass by him.

The gunner knew his gun, and it seemed to him as if the gun ought to know
him. He had lived long with it. How many times he had thrust his hand into
its mouth! It was his own familiar monster. He began to speak to it as if
it were his dog.

"Come!" he said. Perhaps he loved it.

He seemed to wish it to come to him.

But to come to him was to come upon him. And then he would be lost. How
could he avoid being crushed? That was the question. All looked on in
terror.

Not a breast breathed freely, unless perhaps that of the old man, who was
alone in the battery with the two contestants, a stern witness.

He might be crushed himself by the cannon. He did not stir.

Beneath them the sea blindly directed the contest.

At the moment when the gunner, accepting this frightful hand-to-hand
conflict, challenged the cannon, some chance rocking of the sea caused the
carronade to remain for an instant motionless and as if stupefied. "Come,
now!" said the man.

It seemed to listen.

Suddenly it leaped toward him. The man dodged the blow.

The battle began. Battle unprecedented. Frailty struggling against the
invulnerable. The gladiator of flesh attacking the beast of brass. On one
side, brute force; on the other, a human soul.

All this was taking place in semi-darkness. It was like the shadowy vision
of a miracle.

A soul--strange to say, one would have thought the cannon also had a soul;
but a soul full of hatred and rage. This sightless thing seemed to have
eyes. The monster appeared to lie in wait for the man. One would have at
least believed that there was craft in this mass. It also chose its time.
It was a strange, gigantic insect of metal, having or seeming to have the
will of a demon. For a moment this colossal locust would beat against the
low ceiling overhead, then it would come down on its four wheels like a
tiger on its four paws, and begin to run at the man. He, supple, nimble,
expert, writhed away like an adder from all these lightning movements. He
avoided a collision, but the blows which he parried fell against the,
vessel, and continued their work of destruction.

An end of broken chain was left hanging to the carronade. This chain had
in some strange way become twisted about the screw of the cascabel. One
end of the chain was fastened to the gun-carriage. The other, left loose,
whirled desperately about the cannon, making all its blows more dangerous.

The screw held it in a firm grip, adding a thong to a battering-ram,
making a terrible whirlwind around the cannon, an iron lash in a brazen
hand. This chain complicated the contest.

However, the man went on fighting. Occasionally, it was the man who
attacked the cannon; he would creep along the side of the vessel, bar and
rope in hand; and the cannon, as if it understood, and as though
suspecting some snare, would flee away. The man, bent on victory, pursued
it.

Such things can not long continue. The cannon seemed to say to itself, all
of a sudden, "Come, now! Make an end of it!" and it stopped. One felt that
the crisis was at hand. The cannon, as if in suspense, seemed to have, or
really had--for to all it was a living being--a ferocious malice prepense.
It made a sudden, quick dash at the gunner. The gunner sprang out of the
way, let it pass by, and cried out to it with a laugh, "Try it again!" The
cannon, as if enraged, smashed a carronade on the port side; then, again
seized by the invisible sling which controlled it, it was hurled to the
starboard side at the man, who made his escape. Three carronades gave way
under the blows of the cannon; then, as if blind and not knowing what more
to do, it turned its back on the man, rolled from stern to bow, injured
the stern and made a breach in the planking of the prow. The man took
refuge at the foot of the steps, not far from the old man who was looking
on. The gunner held his iron bar in rest. The cannon seemed to notice it,
and without taking the trouble to turn around, slid back on the man, swift
as the blow of an axe. The man, driven against the side of the ship, was
lost. The whole crew cried out with horror.

But the old passenger, till this moment motionless, darted forth more
quickly than any of this wildly swift rapidity. He seized a package of
counterfeit assignats, and, at the risk of being crushed, succeeded in
throwing it between the wheels of the carronade. This decisive and
perilous movement could not have been made with more exactness and
precision by a man trained in all the exercises described in Durosel's
"Manual of Gun Practice at Sea."

The package had the effect of a clog. A pebble may stop a log, the branch
of a tree turn aside an avalanche. The carronade stumbled. The gunner,
taking advantage of this critical opportunity, plunged his iron bar
between the spokes of one of the hind wheels. The cannon stopped. It
leaned forward. The man, using the bar as a lever, held it in equilibrium.
The heavy mass was overthrown, with the crash of a falling bell, and the
man, rushing with all his might, dripping with perspiration, passed the
slipnoose around the bronze neck of the subdued monster.

It was ended. The man had conquered. The ant had control over the
mastodon; the pygmy had taken the thunderbolt prisoner.

The mariners and sailors clapped their hands.

The whole crew rushed forward with cables and chains, and in an instant
the cannon was secured.

The gunner saluted the passenger.

"Sir," he said, "you have saved my life."

The old man had resumed his impassive attitude, and made no reply.

The man had conquered, but the cannon might be said to have conquered as
well. Immediate shipwreck had been avoided, but the corvette was not
saved. The damage to the vessel seemed beyond repair. There were five
breaches in her sides, one, very large, in the bow; twenty of the thirty
carronades lay useless in their frames. The one which had just been
captured and chained again was disabled; the screw of the cascabel was
sprung, and consequently leveling the gun made impossible. The battery was
reduced to nine pieces. The ship was leaking. It was necessary to repair
the damages at once, and to work the pumps.

The gun-deck, now that one could look over it, was frightful to behold.
The inside of an infuriated elephant's cage would not be more completely
demolished.

However great might be the necessity of escaping observation, the
necessity of immediate safety was still more imperative to the corvette.
They had been obliged to light up the deck with lanterns hung here and
there on the sides.

However, all the while this tragic play was going on, the crew were
absorbed by a question of life and death, and they were wholly ignorant of
what was taking place outside the vessel. The fog had grown thicker; the
weather had changed; the wind had worked its pleasure with the ship; they
were out of their course, with Jersey and Guernsey close at hand, further
to the south than they ought to have been, and in the midst of a heavy
sea. Great billows kissed the gaping wounds of the vessel--kisses full of
danger. The rocking of the sea threatened destruction. The breeze had
become a gale. A squall, a tempest, perhaps, was brewing. It was
impossible to see four waves ahead.

While the crew were hastily repairing the damages to the gun-deck,
stopping the leaks, and putting in place the guns which had been uninjured
in the disaster, the old passenger had gone on deck again.

He stood with his back against the mainmast.

He had not noticed a proceeding which had taken place on the vessel. The
Chevalier de la Vieuville had drawn up the marines in line on both sides
of the mainmast, and at the sound of the boatswain's whistle the sailors
formed in line, standing on the yards.

The Count de Boisberthelot approached the passenger.

Behind the captain walked a man, haggard, out of breath, his dress
disordered, but still with a look of satisfaction on his face.

It was the gunner who had just shown himself so skilful in subduing
monsters, and who had gained the mastery over the cannon.

The count gave the military salute to the old man in peasant's dress, and
said to him:

"General, there is the man."

The gunner remained standing, with downcast eyes, in military attitude.

The Count de Boisberthelot continued:

"General, in consideration of what this man has done, do you not think
there is something due him from his commander?"

"I think so," said the old man.

"Please give your orders," replied Boisberthelot.

"It is for you to give them, you are the captain."

"But you are the general," replied Boisberthelot.

The old man looked at the gunner.

"Come forward," he said.

The gunner approached.

The old man turned toward the Count de Boisberthelot, took off the cross
of Saint-Louis from the captain's coat and fastened it on the gunner's
jacket.

"Hurrah!" cried the sailors.

The mariners presented arms.

And the old passenger, pointing to the dazzled gunner, added:

"Now, have this man shot."

Dismay succeeded the cheering.

Then in the midst of the death-like stillness, the old man raised his
voice and said:

"Carelessness has compromised this vessel. At this very hour it is perhaps
lost. To be at sea is to be in front of the enemy. A ship making a voyage
is an army waging war. The tempest is concealed, but it is at hand. The
whole sea is an ambuscade. Death is the penalty of any misdemeanor
committed in the face of the enemy. No fault is reparable. Courage should
be rewarded, and negligence punished."

These words fell one after another, slowly, solemnly, in a sort of
inexorable metre, like the blows of an axe upon an oak.

And the man, looking at the soldiers, added:

"Let it be done."

The man on whose jacket hung the shining cross of Saint-Louis bowed his
head.

At a signal from Count de Boisberthelot, two sailors went below and came
back bringing the hammock-shroud; the chaplain, who since they sailed had
been at prayer in the officers' quarters, accompanied the two sailors; a
sergeant detached twelve marines from the line and arranged them in two
files, six by six; the gunner, without uttering a word, placed himself
between the two files. The chaplain, crucifix in hand, advanced and stood
beside him. "March," said the sergeant. The platoon marched with slow
steps to the bow of the vessel. The two sailors, carrying the shroud,
followed. A gloomy silence fell over the vessel. A hurricane howled in the
distance.

A few moments later, a light flashed, a report sounded through the
darkness, then all was still, and the sound of a body falling into the sea
was heard.

The old passenger, still leaning against the mainmast, had crossed his
arms, and was buried in thought.

Boisberthelot pointed to him with the forefinger of his left hand, and
said to La Vieuville in a low voice:

"La Vendée has a head."

THE END.

Victor Hugo (1802-1885), novelist, poet, and dramatist, is one of the most important of French Romantic writers. Among his best-known works are The Hunchback of Notre Dame(1831) and Les Misérables(1862).

Victor Hugo was born in Besançon as the son of a army general, who taught young Victor to admire Napoleon as a hero. After the separation of his parents, he was raised and educated in Paris by his mother, where the family settled when Hugo was two. From 1815 to 1818 Hugo attended the Lycée Louis-le Grand in Paris. He began in early adolescence to write verse tragedies and poetry, and translated Virgil. Hugo's first collection of poems, Odes Et Poesies Diverses gained him a royal pension from Louis XVIII. As a novelist Hugo made his debut with Han D'Islande (1823) followed by Bug-Jargal (1826). In 1822 Hugo married Adèle Foucher who was the daughter of an officer at the ministry of war.

Hugo gained wider fame with his play Hernani (1830) and with his famous historical work The Hunchback of Notre Dame(1831) which became an instant success. Since its appearance in 1831 the story has became part of popular culture. The novel, set in 15th century Paris, tells a moving story of a gypsy girl Esmeralda and the deformed bell ringer, Quasimodo, who loves her.

In the 1830s Hugo published several volumes of lyric poetry, Hugo's lyrical style was rich, intense and full of powerful sounds and rhythms, and although it followed the bourgeois popular taste of the period it also had bitter personal tones. Among his most ambitious works was an epic poem, "Et nox facta est," ("And There Was Night"), a study of Satan's fall. The poem was never completed.

In his later life Hugo became involved in politics as a supporter of the republican form of government. After three unsuccessful attempts, Hugo was elected in 1841 to the Académie Francaise. This triumph was shadowed by the death of Hugo's daughter Léopoldine in 1843. It was only after a decade that Hugo again published books. He devoted himself to politics, advocating social justice. After the 1848 revolution, with the formation of the Second Republic, Hugo was elected to the Constitutional Assembly and to the Legislative Assembly.

When the coup d'état by Louis Napoleon (Napoleon III) took place in 1851, Hugo believed his life to be in danger. He fled to Brussels and then to Jersey and Guernsey in the English Channel. Hugo's partly voluntary exile lasted 20 years. During this time he wrote at Hauteville House some his best works, including Les Chatimets (1853) and Les Misérables (1862), an epic story about social injustice.

The political upheaval in France and the proclamation of the Third Republic made Hugo return to France. During the period of the Paris Commune, Hugo lived in Brussels, from where he was expelled for sheltering defeated revolutionaries. After a short time of living as a refuge in Luxemburg, he returned to Paris and was elected senator. Hugo died in Paris on May 22, 1885. He was given a national funeral, attended by two million people, and buried in the Panthéon.

آنتوان چخوف در سال ۱۸۶۰ متولد شد و در سال ۱۹۰۴، يک سال قبل از انقلاب اول روسيه، بر اثر ابتلا به بيماری آن زمان علاج ناپذير سل، در اوج شکوفايی هنری، در غربت جوانمرگ شد. مورخين ادبيات، روشنفکران زمان او را به سه دسته تقسيم ميکنند: نا اميدها و بريده ها، اصلاح گرايان و سازشکاران، و انقلابيون و شورشگران يا شلوغ کاران. چخوف را مي توان نويسنده دوران تحولات حاد فرهنگی روسيه قبل از انقلاب نام گذاشت. از جمله نبوغ خلاقيت های او اين است که بدون جانبداری از هر نوع ايدئولوژی و يا اوتوپی، خالق ادبيات اجتمايی و انتقادی گرديد. آثارش آينه پايان جامعه فئودال-اشرافی تزاری است که خبر از آمدن فرهنگی جديد ميدهند . امروزه ما نيز در غالب کشورها شاهد کوششهای آزادي خواهانه و اصلاح گرايانه هستيم، در دوره ای که ايدئولوژيها و اوتوپی ها به سئوال کشانيده شده و خوشنامی و اهميت خود را از دست داده اند. آثار چخوف اغلب در باره افراد طبقه متوسط شهری يا روستايی هستند. در باره مشکلات انسان مدرن، که تنها و بدون رابطه احساسی يا زبانی با همنوعان خود، دلزده و بی هدف، عمر به بطالت می گذراند يا منتظر ظهور جامعه مدنی است. او مهمترين بيماری و عارضه دوران مدرن را: بی حوصلگی، خستگی، بی علاقه گی و پوچگرايی انسان خرده بورژوا و بعضی از روشنفکرانش ميداند . آغاز فعاليت نمايشنامه نويسی و داستان سرايی چخوف، همزمان با شکست کوششهای اصلاحگرايانه و تغييرات اجتمايی گرديد، دوره ای که بنيادگرايان، سلطنت طلبان و قلدران سياسی هنوز اهرمهای قدرت را در دست داشتند. در اين دوره گروههای مختلف اهل کتاب هنوز به نقش و رسالت ادبيات باور داشتند. دسته ای دنبال رمانهای ادبی مذهبی-مسيحی داستايوسکی، دسته ای ديگر طرفدار ادبيات اخلاقی سختگير تولستوی، و گروهی جانبدار کتابهای خوشبين انقلابی ماکسيم گورکی شدند. آثار چخوف همچون نوشته های پوشکين، نه تنها اخلاقی بلکه استتيک و زيباشناسانه بودند.

از آثار چخوف آن زمان تفسيرهای گوناگونی مي شد: عده ای او را ناتوراليست ، سمبوليست، رئاليست، ويا امپرسيونيست مي دانستند. چخوف ولی خود را وقايع نگار اواخر قرن ۱۹ حکومت تزاری به حساب می آورد.

در باره پيشگام بودن اجتمايی او مي توان گفت که ۸۰ سال قبل از نوشتن، جزاير گولاک، سولژينيستين در باره غير انسانی بودن اردوگاههای استالينيستی، چخوف کتاب گزارش گونه، جزيره ساخالين، را در باره محکومين جامعه روسيه نوشت، سندی در باره سياهی دوران تزاری که محکومين به کار اجباری را با زنجير پولادين به گاری و بيل و کلنگ، داس و جنگر چنگالی، پتک و چکش و سندان می بستند تا در صورت فرار از اردوگاه نتوانند خود را از قل و بند نجات دهند و در هر نقطه ای شناخته شوند.

چخوف در طول عمر کوتاهش، پزشکی نيکوکار بود که وقتش را صرف ادبيات انساندوستانه و درآمدش را خرج کارهای خيريه در روستاها، از جمله ساختن مدارس می نمود. زندگی چخوف مصادف با دو اتفاق مهم تاريخ روسيه شد. سال تولدش يک سال قبل از آزادی برده وار دهقانان و لغو خريد و فروش آنها توسط ارباب و زميندار شد. و سال مرگش، يکسال قبل از انقلاب اول روسيه بود که به شکست انجاميد. او در اين مورد نمايشنامه های مشهوری مانند: باغ آلبالو، سه خواهر، مرغ دريا، و عمو وانيا را نوشت. در نمايشنامه باغ آلبالو، چخوف خبر از نزديک شدن انقلاب سراسری ميدهد. لنين در داستان کوتاه - اطاق شماره ۶ بيماران - توصيف وضعيت نابه هنجار روسيه آن سالها را می بيند. چخوف در آثارش به پيشگويی سقوط و فرود طبقات اشراف و فئودال ، و فراز و صعود طبقه بورژوا و سرمايه دار می پردازد . از ديگر آثار او ميتوان به ۴۰۰ داستان کوتاه ، ۷۰ نوول و داستان بلند، و ۸ جلد نامه های مکاتبه ای، اشاره کرد. منتقدين در غالب آثارش با وجود زيگ زاگ های گوناگون ، نوعی رئاليسم اجتمايی را می بينند. چخوف در برابر مکاتب ناتوراليسم، امپرسيونيسم، و سمبوليسم، موضعی انتقادی داشت، گرچه خود قدری تحت تاثير هرکدام از آنها بود . او به ادبيات رمان نويسی سنتی تورگنيف، داستايوسکی، و تولستوی پايان داد و کوتاه نويسی را مد روز کرد. چخوف را مي توان سنبل پايان دوره رمانهای طويل و آغاز داستان کوتاه و نوول نويسی به حساب آورد. در زمان او رمان، ژانر اشرافی ادبيات دوران رئاليسم بود. شايد به اين دليل آثار کوتاه او را امپرسيونيستی ميدانند. موضوع آثارش افراد قشر متوسط يعنی خرده بورژواها هستند، که به قول او: نه کاملا فقير، نه کاملا بی سواد، نه کاملا بی وجدان، و نه کاملا بی اخلاق می باشند. او در باره قشر متوسط روستاها و سوژههای محلی دلخواه شان مانند: سودجوي، شايعه پراکنی، دوغ خوری، و بيکاری شکايت ميکند . برنارد شاو ميگويد: با کمک آثار چخوف، در سالنهای فرهنگی کاخها و قصرهای اشرافی، بجای بحث های مرسوم: شکار ، عشق بازی، تير اندازی، ماهيگيری و شرابخواری، موضوعاتی مانند: موسيقی ، هنر، ادبيات و تاتر مد روز شدند. توماس مان می نويسد: چخوف مانند موپاساد، نابغه و هنرمند آثار کوتاه و کوچک است.

خوانندگان امروزی داستانها- نمايشنامه ها - و نوول های چخوف، از مدرن بودن و امروزی بودن آنها تعجب ميکنند. در زمان شوروی سابق ، چخوف در کنار پوشکين، تولستوی و گورکی، يکی از محبوب ترين نويسندگان آن سالها بود. چخوف با آثار کوتاه و مينياتوری خود وارث رئاليسم دوران گذشته گرديد. ماياکوفسکی شاعر شورشی شوروی ميگفت: زبانش ساده، قاطع ، کوتاه و روشن بود ، مانند جملات عاميانه دلخواه ما يعنی: روز بخير، يا بفرمايی يک استکان چای . هر جمله او خود داستان کوتاهی است . چخوف هنرمند شکاک و منتقد زمان تزاری است. او در آثارش به طرح پرسش می پردازد بدون اينکه جوابی ايدئولوژيک يا اخلاقی پيشنهاد کند.به نظر بعضی از کارشناسان ادبی، چخوف با کمک نمايشنامه های مدرن خود، راهگشای تئاتر پوچگرا و ابزرد اروپايی نيز گرديد.

زبان و نشانه

بنا به تعريف سوسوري، زبان دستگاهي است استوار بر نشانه، عام‌ترين تعريف براي نشانه آن است كه، نشانه همچون سكه‌اي دورويه، بر دو جز دال و مدلول اتكا دارد. چارلز سندرس پيرس، فيلسوف پراگماتيست و از آغازگران علم نشانه شناسي ( semiology ) نشانه را استوار بر غياب مي‌داند:«نشانه براي كسي، چيزي را به جاي چيز ديگري بيان مي‌كند.» بنابراين، در متن هر نشانه عنصر قرارداد، جهت انجام و تسهيل امر ارتباطي زبان نهفته است. متن ادبي از اين گونه نشانه‌ها سود مي‌جويد، اما از آن فراتر مي‌رود. در متن ادبي، فرايندي جديد رخ مي‌دهد و آن ايجاد نشانه‌هاي نوين است؛ نشانه‌هايي ويژه و خاص همان تن كه بيرون از چارچوب آن و يا خارج از چارچوب آن گفتمان كه متن در آن مي‌گنجد، بار معنايي خود را از دست مي‌دهند. واژه «رند» تا پيش از آن كه معنايي عرفاني داشته باشد، قراردادي بود بين سخنوران زبان، شامل بر معنايي« لاابالي و سالوس»، اما در نزد سنايي و خاصه حافظ نشانه‌اي ويژه مي‌شود براي سخن عرفاني كه خواننده بايد به كشف آن نايل شود، در برف كور هدايت. ادبيات شگرف (fantastic) از چنين نشانه‌هاي ويژه‌اي بيش از متن‌هاي واقع نما بهره مي‌گيرد. ادبيات شگرف با بهره گيري از تكنيك سيال ذهن، نمادها و اسطوره‌ها مي‌كوشد او وضوح دريافت بكاهد، و ابهام ذاتي خود را به تفسير و دريافت خواننده نيز سرايت دهد. بنابراين، وظيفه نشانه شناسي ادبي «شناخت آن قراردادهاي اصلي است كه به هر تصوير يا توصيف ادبي نيروي ساختن معنايي ديگر مي‌بخشد». به اين ترتيب زبان شناسي نه تنها در نقد ادبي، بلكه در نقد هنرهاي تصويري همچون سينما، نقاشي، عكس نيز، از طريق نشانه شناسي خاص اين مقولات، خود را دخالت مي‌دهد. نشانه‌ها در متون شگرف از منش قراردادي فراتر رفته به سطح نشانه تمثيلي يا مجازي و از آن فراتر به سمت نماد ميل مي‌كند. خصوصيت اصلي نماد گريز از ساخت تك معنايي است. بنابراين، از آنجا كه هر اثر، دنياي نشانه‌هاي ويژه خود را مي‌آفريند و دلالت معنايي خاص خود را ايجاد مي‌كند، از اين رو واقعيتي خاص خود را ايجاد مي‌كند، از اين رو واقعيتي است مبهم. هر مدلول در ذهن مخاطب "موردي تاويلي" است و از اين رو ما همواره با تاويل‌هاي گوناگون از هر اثر هنري رويارو مي‌شويم. ما بعداً به مفهوم اساسي تاويل در نقد ادبي مدرن باز خواهيم گشت، تنها در اين جا متذكر شويم كه تاويل مهمترين رهيافت نقد ادبي مدرس است.

خبرگزاري فارس: مقالاتي درباره «زبان‌شناسي» به همراه ويژه‌نامه «محمدرضا باطني» منتشر شد.

به گزارش خبرگزاري فارس، شصت و سومين شماره بخارا ويژه مسائل زبانشناختي است. تاريخچه آموزش زبان‌شناسي در ايران/ گفت‌وگو با هرمز ميلانيان؛ لزوم بازنگري در روند زبان‌شناسي در ايران / گفت‌وگو با علي‌محمد حق‌شناس؛ فارسي‌شناسي / گفت‌وگو با علي‌اشرف صادقي؛ تكوين زبان‌شناسي نظري در جهان و بازنمودن آن در ايران / گفت‌وگو با محمد دبيرمقدم؛ چرا ديگر نمي‌انديشيم؟ / كورش صفوي؛ زبان‌شناسي همگاني يا زبان‌شناسي؟ / گفت‌وگو با ارسلان گلفام؛ معلمين فرداي زبان‌شناسي چه كساني هستند؟/ آزيتا افراشي؛ دستور زايشي، بازگشتي ديگر به نقطه عزيمت / حسين صافي، از مقالات اين ويژه‌نامه است.

همچنين اين مقالات نيز در اين ويژه‌نامه به چشم مي‌خورد: گونه معيار نهفته / اميد طبيب‌زاده؛ چرا كه يك سخن در ميانه: زبان بدن / مريم سادات فياضي؛ زبان و نظام‌هاي نوشتاري / روح‌الله مفيدي؛ اصول و مفاهيم بنيادي در زبان‌شناسي شناختي / محمد راسخ مهند؛ زبان‌شناسي حقوقي(قانوني): رويكردي نوين در زبان‌شناسي كاربردي / فردوس آقاگل‌زاده؛ تعريف طنز در زبان‌شناسي/ عاليه كرد زعفرانلو كامبوزيا؛ زبان‌شناسي و ترجمه / فرزانه فرح‌زاد؛ صرف زبان فارسي / علاءالدين طباطبايي؛ ساخت اطلاعي جمله / بهرام مدرسي؛ شوك فرهنگي و زبان درماني / مهدي سبزواري؛ ابن جني اعجوبه قرن چهارم / ماندانا نوربخش.
در ويژه‌نامه باطني نيز اين مقالات منتشر شده است: آشنايي بيشتر با استاد زبان‌شناسي محمدرضا باطني، گفتار و خط فارسي در گفت‌وگويي با محمدرضا باطني و كتاب‌شناسي محمدرضا باطني.

درآمدي بر زبان و زبان شناسي
از زبان شناسي…

مهدي پهلوان پور

«ما زبان مادري مان را طي بخش بزرگي از زندگي مان همچون واقعيتي طبيعي مي پذيريم و آن را به كار مي گيريم، يا چون به كارش گيرند آن را مي فهميم، بي آنكه نسبت به آن هرگز خودآگاه باشيم يا درباره آن اظهارنظر كنيم.» اين جملات، جملاتي است كه با آن كتاب بي همتا و منحصر به فرد «تاريخ مختصر زبان شناسي» نوشته آر.اچ. روبينز ترجمه علي محمد حق شناس شروع مي شود و در ادامه ۵۹۳ صفحه اي اين كتاب با تاريخ زبان شناسي روبه رو مي شويم، با افراد، مكاتب، حلقه ها و... كه از يونان باستان تا حال حاضر در سراسر دنيا پتانسيل خود را صرف پي بردن به راز و رمزهاي زبان كرده اند.

هر چند تا به حال تعريفي از زبان ارائه نشده كه مورد قبول تمام زبان شناسان باشد، ولي هر مكتب زبان شناسي تعريفي ارائه داده كه در حوزه اي و از ديدگاهي كه از آن حوزه برمي خيزد صحيح است و كاربرد دارد، البته يك سري از نظريات همگاني است و تقريباً مورد قبول همه است.

زبان يكي از توانايي هاي عام هر انساني است و از نگاهي زبان نظام يا سازگاني است كه عناصر يا واحدهايش در رابطه متقابل با يكديگرند.

به عبارتي عناصر و واحدهايش در رابطه متقابل با هم موجوديت خود را به ثبت مي رسانند و مطالعه آنها بدون در نظر گرفتن عناصر متقابل شان امكان پذير نيست. اگر ما معني واژه اي را ندانيم به يك لغت نامه مراجعه مي كنيم و در برابر آن واژه يا واژه هايي را مي بينيم. ارتباط متقابل واژه مبدا و مقصد است كه در چرخشي كه كل واژه ها را در يك زبان دربرمي گيرد يك نظام را تشكيل مي دهد، نظامي كه يكي از واحدهاي تشكيل دهنده زبان است.

و زبان شناسي يعني مطالعه علمي زبان طبيعي بشر به ماهيت زبان و ارتباط مي پردازد.
و اگر نگاهي به تاريخ اين رشته بيندازيم و تاثيرات افراد و هر نوع نگرش را درجه بندي كنيم مي توان به جرات گفت: تاثير گذارترين فرد در طول تاريخ اين علم فردينان دوسوسور بوده است. وي كه نبوغش در اين علم پرورش يافته بود، در طول عمر خود سرسختانه به جست وجوي قانون هايي پرداخت كه بتواند انديشه هاي او را از ميان آشفتگي هاي نظريه هاي زبان شناسي هدايت كند.

او در سال ۱۹۰۶ بر كرسي استادي دانشگاه ژنو تكيه زد. وي تدريس سه دوره زبان شناسي همگاني را بين سال هاي ۱۹۰۶ تا ۱۹۱۱ به عهده گرفت ولي هرگز كتابي منتشر نكرد. بعد از مرگ وي دو تن از همكارانش به نام هاي شارل بالي و آلبرسه شه يه از دست نوشته هاي او كه به وسيله همسرش جمع آوري شد و جزوه هاي شاگردانش دوره زبان شناسي عمومي سوسور را به چاپ رساندند. بعد از چاپ اين كتاب دامنه نفوذ او در زبان شناسي به مراتب بيشتر از نفوذ و تاثير هر كسي ديگر شد تا جايي كه به جرات مي توان گفت زبان شناسي قرن بيستم را خود او آغاز كرده است و در حوزه زبان شناسي انقلابي كپرنيكي پديد آورده.

دوره زبان شناسي عمومي سوسور را دكتر كورش صفوي به فارسي برگردانده و انتشارات هرمس افتخار چاپ آن را دارد. اين كتاب شامل مباحثي مثل نگرش همزماني و درزماني، همنشيني و جانشيني، دال و مدلول و... است. دوره زبان شناسي عمومي سوسور تا حال حاضر بسياري از نظريات معتبر زبان شناسي را بر تنه خود چون شاخه اي رويانده و مي روياند.

منابع:
1- آر.اچ. روبينز، تاريخ مختصر زبان شناسي، ترجمه علي محمد حق شناس، تهران، مركز.
۲- فردينان دوسوسور، دوره زبان شناسي عمومي، ترجمه كورش صفوي، تهران، هرمس.
۳- كورش صفوي، از زبان شناسي به ادبيات جلد،۲ تهران، سوره مهر

"Out of sight, out of mind." از دل برود هر آنکه از دیده برفت

"Don't make a mountain out of a molehill." از کاه، کوه نساز

"Kill two birds with one stone." با یک تیر دو نشان را زدن

"He that will steal an egg will steal an ox." تخم مرغ دزد، شتر دزد هم می‌شود

"Knowledge is power." توانا بود هر که دانا بود

"Laughter is the best medicine." خنده بر هر درد بی درمان دواست

"Don't count your chickens before they're hatched." جوجه را آخر پائیز می‌شمارند

"Where there's a will there's a way." خواستن توانستن است

"Where one door shuts, another opens." "خدا گر ز حکمت ببندد دری ز رحمت گشاید در دیگری"

"Better late than never." دیر رسیدن بهتر از هرگز نرسیدن است

"Don't look a gift horse in the mouth." دندان اسب پیشکشی را نمی‌شمارند

"Every coin has two sides". سکه دو رو دارد

"Time is money." وقت طلاست

"Jack of all trades, master of none." یک کاره، همه کاره - همه کاره، هیچ کاره

"As you sow, so shall you reap." هر کسی آن درود عاقبت کار که کشت

"Seek and ye shall find." عاقبت جوینده یابنده بود

"A sound mind in a sound body." عقل سالم در بدن سالم است

"Birds of a feather flock together." "کبوتر با کبوتر باز با باز کند همجنس با همجنس پرواز"

"Never put off till (until) tomorrow what you can do today." کار امروز را به فردا نینداز

Great great quotations about" LOVE"

A bell is no bell till you ring it,
A song is no song till you sing it,
And love in your heart
Wasn’t put there to stay -
Love isn’t love
Till you give it away.(Oscar Hammerstein (Reprise))

Time is too slow for those who wait, too swift for those who fear, too long for those who grieve, too short for those who rejoice, but for those who love, time is eternity.

When a man is in love or in debt, someone else has the advantage. (Bill Balance)

Who, being loved, is poor? (Oscar Wilde)

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"We have art to save ourselves from the truth."

Friedrich Nietzsche (1844-1900)

"Never interrupt your enemy when he is making a mistake."

Napoleon Bonaparte (1769-1821)

"Human history becomes more and more a race between education and catastrophe."

H. G. Wells (1866-1946)

"Talent does what it can; genius does what it must."

Edward George Bulwer-Lytton (1803-1873)

"The difference between 'involvement' and 'commitment' is like an eggs-and-ham breakfast: the chicken was 'involved' - the pig was 'committed'."

Unknown

"If you are going through hell, keep going."

Sir Winston Churchill (1874-1965)

"He who has a 'why' to live, can bear with almost any 'how'."

Friedrich Nietzsche (1844-1900)

"Many wealthy people are little more than janitors of their possessions."

Frank Lloyd Wright (1868-1959)

"I'm all in favor of keeping dangerous weapons out of the hands of fools. Let's start with typewriters."

Frank Lloyd Wright (1868-1959)

"Some cause happiness wherever they go; others, whenever they go."

Oscar Wilde (1854-1900)

انتقام زن

زنگ در را به صدا در آوردند. نادژدا پترونا ، مالك آپارتماني كه محل وقوع داستان ماست ، شتابان از روي كاناپه بلند شد و دوان دوان به طرف در رفت. با خود ميگفت: « لابد شوهرم است … » اما وقتي در را باز كرد ، با مردي ناآشنا روبرو شد. مردي بلند قامت و خوش قيافه ، با پالتو پوست نفيس و عينك دسته طلايي در برابرش ايستاده بود ؛ گره بر ابرو و چين بر پيشاني داشت ؛ چشمهاي خواب آلودش با نوعي بيحالي و بي اعتنايي ، به دنياي خاكي ما مينگريستند. نادژدا پرسيد:

ــ فرمايش داريد ؟

ــ من پزشك هستم خانم محترم. از طرف خانواده اي به اسم … به اسم چلوبيتيف به اينجا دعوت شده ام … شما خانم چلوبيتيف نيستيد؟

ــ چرا … خودم هستم … اما شما را به خدا آقاي دكتر … معذرت ميخواهم. شوهرم گذشته از آنكه تب داشت ، دندانش هم آپسه كرده بود. خود او خدمتتان نامه نوشته و خواهش كرده بود تشريف بياوريد اينجا ولي شما ، از بس دير كرديد كه او نتوانست درد دندان را تحمل كند و رفت پيش دندانساز.

ــ هوم … حق اين بود كه نزد دندانپزشكش مي رفت و مزاحم من نمي شد …

اين را گفت و اخم كرد. حدود يك دقيقه در سكوت گذشت.

ــ آقاي دكتر از زحمتي كه به شما داديم و شما را تا اينجا كشانديم عذر ميخواهم … باور كنيد اگر شوهرم ميدانست كه تشريف مي آوريد ، ممكن نبود پيش دندانساز برود … ببخشيد …

دقيقه اي ديگر در سكوت گذشت. نادژدا پترونا پشت گردن خود را خاراند. دكتر زير لب لندلندكنان گفت:

ــ خانم محترم ، لطفاً مرخصم كنيد! جايز نيست بيش از اين معطل شوم. وقت ماها آنقدر ارزش دارد كه …

ــ يعني … من كه … من كه معطلتان نكرده ام …

ــ ولي خانم محترم ، بنده كه نمي توانم بدون دريافت حق القدم از خدمتتان مرخص شوم!

نادژدا پترونا تا بناگوش سرخ شد و تته پته كنان گفت:

ــ حق القدم ؟ آه ، بله ، حق با شماست … بايد حق القدم داد ، درست مي فرماييد … شما زحمت كشيده ايد ، تشريف آورده ايد اينجا … ولي آقاي دكتر … باور بفرماييد شرمنده ام … موقعي كه شوهرم از منزل بيرون ميرفت ، كيف پولمان را هم با خودش برد … متأسفانه يك پاپاسي در خانه ندارم …

ــ هوم! … عجيب است! … پس مي فرماييد تكليف بنده چيست؟ من كه نميتوانم همين جا بنشينم و منتظر شوهرتان باشم. اتاقهايتان را بگرديد شايد پولي پيدا كنيد … حق القدم من ، در واقع مبلغ قابلي نيست …

ــ آقاي دكتر باور بفرماييد شوهرم تمام پولمان را با خودش برده … من واقعاً شرمنده ام … اگر پولي همراهم بود ممكن نبود بخاطر يك روبل ناقابل ، اين وضع … وضع احمقانه را تحمل كنم …

ــ مردم تلقي عجيبي از حق القدم پزشك ها دارند … به خدا قسم كه تلقي شان مايه ي حيرت است! طوري رفتار ميكنند كه انگار ما آدم نيستيم. كار و زحمت ما را ، كار به حساب نمي آورند … فكر كنيد اينهمه راه را آمده ام و زحمت كشيده ام … وقتم را تلف كرده ام …

ــ مشكل شما را مي فهمم آقاي دكتر ، ولي قبول بفرماييد گاهي اوقات ممكن است در خانه ي آدم حتي يك صناري پيدا نشود!

ــ آه … من چه كار به اين « گاهي اوقات ها » دارم ؟ خانم محترم شما واقعاً كه … ساده و غير منطقي تشريف داريد … خودداري از پرداخت حق القدم يك پزشك … عملي است ــ حتي نميتوانم بگويم ــ خلاف وجدان … از اينكه نميتوانم از دست شما به پاسبان سر كوچه شكايت كنم ، آشكارا سوءاستفاده ميكنيد … واقعاً كه عجيب است!

آنگاه اندكي اين پا و آن پا كرد … بجاي تمام بشريت ، احساس شرمندگي ميكرد … صورت نادژدا پترونا به قدري سرخ شد كه گفتي لپهايش مشتعل شده بودند ؛ عضلات چهره اش از شدت نفرت و انزجار ، تاب برداشته بودند ؛ بعد از سكوتي كوتاه ، با لحن تندي گفت:

ــ بسيار خوب! يك دقيقه به من مهلت بدهيد! … الان كسي را به دكان سر كوچه مان مي فرستم ، شايد بتوانم از او قرض بگيرم … حق القدمتان را مي پردازم ، نگران نباشيد.

سپس به اتاق مجاور رفت و يادداشتي براي كاسب سر گذر نوشت. دكتر پالتو پوست خود را در آورد ، به اتاق پذيرايي رفت و روي مبلي يله داد. هر دو خاموش و منتظر بودند. حدود پنج دقيقه بعد ، جواب آمد. نادژدا پترونا سر پاكت را باز كرد ، از لاي يادداشت جوابيه ي كاسب ، يك اسكناس يك روبلي در آورد و آن را به طرف دكتر دراز كرد. چشمهاي پزشك از شدت خشم درخشيدند. اسكناس را روي ميز گذاشت و گفت:

ــ خانم محترم از قرار معلوم ، بنده را دست انداخته ايد … شايد نوكرم يك روبل بگيرد ولي … بنده هرگز! ببخشيد …

ــ پس چقدر ميخواهيد ؟!

ــ معمولاً ده روبل مي گيرم … البته اگر مايل باشيد مي توانم از شما پنج روبل قبول كنم.

ــ پنج روبلم كجا بود ؟ … من همان اول كار به شما گفتم: پول ندارم!

ــ يادداشت ديگري براي كاسب سر گذر بفرستيد. آدمي كه بتواند به شما يك روبل قرض بدهد ، چرا پنج روبل ندهد؟ مگر برايش فرق ميكند؟ خانم محترم ، لطفاً بيش از اين معطلم نكنيد. من آدم بيكاري نيستم ، وقت ندارم …

ــ گوش كنيد آقاي دكتر ، اگر اسمتان را « گستاخ » ندانم ، دستكم بايد بگويم كه .. كم لطف و نامهربان تشريف داريد! نه! خشن و بيرحم! حاليتان شد؟ شما … نفرت انگيز هستيد!

نادژدا پترونا به طرف پنجره چرخيد و لب به دندان گرفت ؛ قطره هاي درشت اشك از چشمهايش فرو غلتيدند. با خود فكر كرد:

« مردكه ي پست فطرت! بي شرف! حيوان صفت! به خودش اجازه ميدهد … جرأت ميكند … آخر چرا نبايد وضع وحشتناك و اسفناك مرا درك كند؟ … لعنتي! صبر كن تا حاليت كنم! »

در اين لحظه به سمت دكتر چرخيد ؛ آثار رنج و التماس بر چهره اش نقش خورده بود. با صدايي آرام و لحني ملتمسانه گفت:

ــ آقاي دكتر! آقاي دكتر كاش قلبي در سينه تان مي تپيد ، كاش ميخواستيد درك كنيد … هرگز راضي نميشديد بخاطر پول … اينقدر رنج و عذابم بدهيد … خيال ميكنيد درد و غصه ي خودم كم است؟ …

در اين لحظه دست برد و شقيقه هاي خود را فشرد ؛ خرمن گيسوانش در يك چشم به هم زدن ــ گفتي فنري را فشرده بود ، نه شقيقه هايش را ــ بر شانه هايش فرو ريخت …

ــ از دست شوهر نادانم عذاب ميكشم … اين بيغوله ي گند و نفرت انگيز را تحمل ميكنم … و حالا يك مرد تحصيل كرده به خودش اجازه ميدهد ملامتم كند ، سركوفتم بزند. خداي من! تا كي بايد عذاب بكشم؟

ــ ولي خانم محترم ، قبول كنيد كه موقعيت خاص صنف ما …

اما دكتر ناچار شد خطابه اي را كه آغاز كرده بود قطع كند: نادژدا پترونا تلوتلو خورد و به بازوان دكتر كه به طرف او دراز شده بود ، در آويخت و از هوش رفت … سر او به سمت شانه ي دكتر خم شد و روي آن آرميد.

دقيقه اي بعد ، زمزمه كنان گفت:

ــ بياييد از اين طرف … جلو شومينه دكتر … جلوتر … همه چيز را برايتان تعريف ميكنم … همه چيز …

ساعتي بعد دكتر ، آپارتمان نادژدا پترونا را ترك گفت ؛

هم دلخور بود ؛ هم شرمنده ؛ هم سرخوش … در حالي كه سوار سورتمه ي خود ميشد ، زير لب گفت:

« انسان وقتي صبح ها از خانه اش بيرون مي رود ، نبايد پول زياد با خودش بردارد! يك وقت ناچار ميشود پولش را بسلفد! »

زندگي زيباست

( براي آنهايي كه قصد انتحار دارد )

زندگي ، چيزي ست تلخ و نامطبوع اما زيباسازي آن كاري ست نه چندان دشوار. براي ايجاد اين دگرگوني كافي نيست كه مثلاً دويست هزار روبل در لاتاري ببري يا به اخذ نشان « عقاب سفيد » نايل آيي يا با زيبارويي دلفريب ازدواج كني يا به عنوان انساني خوش قلب شهره ي دهر شوي ــ نعمتهايي را كه برشمردم ، فناپذيرند ، به عادت روزانه مبدل ميشوند. براي آنكه مدام ــ حتي به گاه ماتم و اندوه ــ احساس خوشبختي كني بايد: اولاً از آنچه كه داري راضي و خشنود باشي ، ثانياً از اين انديشه كه « ممكن بود بدتر از اين شود » احساس خرسندي كني و اين كار دشواري نيست:

وقتي قوطي كبريت در جيبت آتش ميگيرد از اينكه جيب تو انبار باروت نبود خوش باش ، رو خدا را شكر كن.

وقتي عده اي از اقوام فقير بيچاره ات سرزده به ويلاي ييلاقي ات مي آيند ، رنگ رخساره ات را نباز ، بلكه شادماني كن و بانگ بر آر كه: « جاي شكرش باقيست كه اقوامم آمده اند ، نه پليس! »

اگر خاري در انگشتت خليد ، برو شكر كن كه: « چه خوب شد كه در چشمم نخليد! »

اگر زن يا خواهر زنت بجاي ترانه اي دلنشين گام مي نوازد ، از كوره در نرو بلكه تا مي تواني شادماني كن كه موسيقي گوش ميكني ، نه زوزه ي شغال يا زنجموره ي گربه.

رو خدا را شكر كن كه نه اسب باركش هستي ، نه ميكرب ، نه كرم تريشين ، نه خوك ، نه الاغ ، نه ساس ، نه خرس كولي هاي دوره گرد … پايكوبي كن كه نه شل هستي ، نه كور ، نه كر ، نه لال و نه مبتلا به وبا … هلهله كن كه در اين لحظه روي نيمكت متهمان ننشسته اي ،‌ روياروي طلبكار نايستاده اي و براي دريافت حق التأليفت در حال چانه زدن با ناشرت نيستي.

اگر در محلي نه چندان پرت و دور افتاده سكونت داري از اين انديشه كه ممكن بود محل سكونتت پرت تر و دور افتاده تر از اين باشد شادماني كن.

اگر فقط يك دندانت درد ميكند ، دل به اين خوش دار كه تمام دندانهايت درد نمي كنند.

اگر اين امكان را داري كه مجله ي « شهروند » را نخواني يا روي بشكه ي مخصوص حمل فاضلاب ننشسته و يا در آن واحد سه تا زن نگرفته باشي ، شادي و پايكوبي كن.

وقتي به كلانتري جلبت ميكنند از اينكه مقصد تو كلانتري ست ، نه جهنم سوزان ، خوشحال باش و جست و خيز كن.

اگر با تركه ي توس به جانت افتاده اند هلهله كن كه: « خوشا به حالم كه با گزنه به جانم نيفتاده اند! »

اگر زنت به تو خيانت مي كند ، دل بدين خوش دار كه به تو خيانت مي كند ،‌ نه به مام ميهن.

و قس عليهذا … اي آدم ، پند و اندرزهايم را به كار گير تا زندگي ات سراسر هلهله و شادماني شود.

Daniel Defoe (1660-1731) English novelist, pamphleteer, and journalist, is most famous as the author of Robinson Crusoe (1719), a story of a man shipwrecked alone on an island. Along with Samuel Richardson, Defoe is considered the founder of the English novel.

Defoe was born as the son of James Foe, a butcher of Stroke Newington. He studied at Charles Morton's Academy, London. Although his Nonconformist father intended him for the ministry, Defoe plunged into politics and trade, traveling extensively in Europe. In the early 1680s Defoe was a commission merchant in Cornhill but went bankrupt in 1691. In 1684 he married Mary Tuffley; they had two sons and five daughters.

Defoe earned fame and royal favor with his satirical poem "The True born Englishman" (1701). In 1702 Defoe wrote his famous pamphlet The Shortest Way With Dissenters . Himself a Dissenter he mimicked the extreme attitudes of High Anglican Tories and pretended to argue for the extermination of all Dissenters. Nobody was amused; Defoe was arrested and pilloried in May 1703. While in prison Defoe wrote a mock ode, "Hymn To The Pillory" (1703). The poem was sold in the streets, the audience drank to his health while he stood in the pillory and read aloud his verses.

When the Tories fell from power Defoe continued to carry out intelligence work for the Whig government. In his own days Defoe was regarded as an unscrupulous, diabolical journalist.

Defoe was one of the first to write stories about believable characters in realistic situations using simple prose. He achieved literary immortality when in April 1719 he published Robinson Crusoe, which was based partly on the memoirs of voyagers and castaways, such as Alexander Selkirk. During the remaining years, Defoe concentrated on books rather than pamphlets. Among his works are Moll Flanders(1722), A Journal Of The Plague Year (1722) and Captain Jack(1722) His last great work of fiction, Roxana, appeared in 1724. In the 1720s Defoe had ceased to be politically controversial in his writings, and he produced several historical works, a guide book and The Great Law Of Subordination Considered (1724), an examination of the treatment of servants.

Phenomenally industrious, Defoe produced in his last years also works involving the supernatural, The Political History Of The Devil (1726) and An Essay On The History And Reality Of Apparitions(1727). He died on 26 April 1731, at his lodgings in Ropemaker's Alley, Moorfields.

The ways of God in Nature, as in Providence, are not as our ways ; nor are the models that we frame any way commensurate to the vastness, profundity, and unsearchableness of His works, which have a depth in them greater than the well of Democritus.

Joseph Glanville.

WE had now reached the summit of the loftiest crag. For some minutes the old man seemed too much exhausted to speak.

"Not long ago," said he at length, "and I could have guided you on this route as well as the youngest of my sons ; but, about three years past, there happened to me an event such as never happened to mortal man - or at least such as no man ever survived to tell of - and the six hours of deadly terror which I then endured have broken me up body and soul. You suppose me a very old man - but I am not. It took less than a single day to change these hairs from a jetty black to white, to weaken my limbs, and to unstring my nerves, so that I tremble at the least exertion, and am frightened at a shadow. Do you know I can scarcely look over this little cliff without getting giddy ?"

The "little cliff," upon whose edge he had so carelessly thrown himself down to rest that the weightier portion of his body hung over it, while he was only kept from falling by the tenure of his elbow on its extreme and slippery edge - this "little cliff" arose, a sheer unobstructed precipice of black shining rock, some fifteen or sixteen hundred feet from the world of crags beneath us. Nothing would have tempted me to within half a dozen yards of its brink. In truth so deeply was I excited by the perilous position of my companion, that I fell at full length upon the ground, clung to the shrubs around me, and dared not even glance upward at the sky - while I struggled in vain to divest myself of the idea that the very foundations of the mountain were in danger from the fury of the winds. It was long before I could reason myself into sufficient courage to sit up and look out into the distance.

"You must get over these fancies," said the guide, "for I have brought you here that you might have the best possible view of the scene of that event I mentioned - and to tell you the whole story with the spot just under your eye."

"We are now," he continued, in that particularizing manner which distinguished him - "we are now close upon the Norwegian coast - in the sixty-eighth degree of latitude - in the great province of Nordland - and in the dreary district of Lofoden. The mountain upon whose top we sit is Helseggen, the Cloudy. Now raise yourself up a little higher - hold on to the grass if you feel giddy - so - and look out, beyond the belt of vapor beneath us, into the sea."

I looked dizzily, and beheld a wide expanse of ocean, whose waters wore so inky a hue as to bring at once to my mind the Nubian geographer's account of the Mare Tenebrarum . A panorama more deplorably desolate no human imagination can conceive. To the right and left, as far as the eye could reach, there lay outstretched, like ramparts of the world, lines of horridly black and beetling cliff, whose character of gloom was but the more forcibly illustrated by the surf which reared high up against its white and ghastly crest, howling and shrieking forever. Just opposite the promontory upon whose apex we were placed, and at a distance of some five or six miles out at sea, there was visible a small, bleak-looking island ; or, more properly, its position was discernible through the wilderness of surge in which it was enveloped. About two miles nearer the land, arose another of smaller size, hideously craggy and barren, and encompassed at various intervals by a cluster of dark rocks.

The appearance of the ocean, in the space between the more distant island and the shore, had something very unusual about it. Although, at the time, so strong a gale was blowing landward that a brig in the remote offing lay to under a double-reefed trysail, and constantly plunged her whole hull out of sight, still there was here nothing like a regular swell, but only a short, quick, angry cross dashing of water in every direction - as well in the teeth of the wind as otherwise. Of foam there was little except in the immediate vicinity of the rocks.

"The island in the distance," resumed the old man, "is called by the Norwegians Vurrgh. The one midway is Moskoe. That a mile to the northward is Ambaaren. Yonder are Islesen, Hotholm, Keildhelm, Suarven, and Buckholm. Farther off - between Moskoe and Vurrgh - are Otterholm, Flimen, Sandflesen, and Stockholm. These are the true names of the places - but why it has been thought necessary to name them at all, is more than either you or I can understand. Do you hear anything ? Do you see any change in the water ?"

We had now been about ten minutes upon the top of Helseggen, to which we had ascended from the interior of Lofoden, so that we had caught no glimpse of the sea until it had burst upon us from the summit. As the old man spoke, I became aware of a loud and gradually increasing sound, like the moaning of a vast herd of buffaloes upon an American prairie; and at the same moment I perceived that what seamen term the chopping character of the ocean beneath us, was rapidly changing into a current which set to the eastward. Even while I gazed, this current acquired a monstrous velocity. Each moment added to its speed - to its headlong impetuosity. In five minutes the whole sea, as far as Vurrgh, was lashed into ungovernable fury ; but it was between Moskoe and the coast that the main uproar held its sway. Here the vast bed of the waters, seamed and scarred into a thousand conflicting channels, burst suddenly into phrensied convulsion - heaving, boiling, hissing - gyrating in gigantic and innumerable vortices, and all whirling and plunging on to the eastward with a rapidity which water never elsewhere assumes except in precipitous descents.

In a few minutes more, there came over the scene another radical alteration. The general surface grew somewhat more smooth, and the whirlpools, one by one, disappeared, while prodigious streaks of foam became apparent where none had been seen before. These streaks, at length, spreading out to a great distance, and entering into combination, took unto themselves the gyratory motion of the subsided vortices, and seemed to form the germ of another more vast. Suddenly - very suddenly - this assumed a distinct and definite existence, in a circle of more than a mile in diameter. The edge of the whirl was represented by a broad belt of gleaming spray ; but no particle of this slipped into the mouth of the terrific funnel, whose interior, as far as the eye could fathom it, was a smooth, shining, and jet-black wall of water, inclined to the horizon at an angle of some forty-five degrees, speeding dizzily round and round with a swaying and sweltering motion, and sending forth to the winds an appalling voice, half shriek, half roar, such as not even the mighty cataract of Niagara ever lifts up in its agony to Heaven.

The mountain trembled to its very base, and the rock rocked. I threw myself upon my face, and clung to the scant herbage in an excess of nervous agitation.

"This," said I at length, to the old man - "this can be nothing else than the great whirlpool of the Maelström."

"So it is sometimes termed," said he. "We Norwegians call it the Moskoe-ström, from the island of Moskoe in the midway."

The ordinary accounts of this vortex had by no means prepared me for what I saw. That of Jonas Ramus, which is perhaps the most circumstantial of any, cannot impart the faintest conception either of the magnificence, or of the horror of the scene - or of the wild bewildering sense of the novel which confounds the beholder. I am not sure from what point of view the writer in question surveyed it, nor at what time ; but it could neither have been from the summit of Helseggen, nor during a storm. There are some passages of his description, nevertheless, which may be quoted for their details, although their effect is exceedingly feeble in conveying an impression of the spectacle.

"Between Lofoden and Moskoe," he says, "the depth of the water is between thirty-six and forty fathoms ; but on the other side, toward Ver (Vurrgh) this depth decreases so as not to afford a convenient passage for a vessel, without the risk of splitting on the rocks, which happens even in the calmest weather. When it is flood, the stream runs up the country between Lofoden and Moskoe with a boisterous rapidity ; but the roar of its impetuous ebb to the sea is scarce equalled by the loudest and most dreadful cataracts ; the noise being heard several leagues off, and the vortices or pits are of such an extent and depth, that if a ship comes within its attraction, it is inevitably absorbed and carried down to the bottom, and there beat to pieces against the rocks ; and when the water relaxes, the fragments thereof are thrown up again. But these intervals of tranquility are only at the turn of the ebb and flood, and in calm weather, and last but a quarter of an hour, its violence gradually returning. When the stream is most boisterous, and its fury heightened by a storm, it is dangerous to come within a Norway mile of it. Boats, yachts, and ships have been carried away by not guarding against it before they were within its reach. It likewise happens frequently, that whales come too near the stream, and are overpowered by its violence; and then it is impossible to describe their howlings and bellowings in their fruitless struggles to disengage themselves. A bear once, attempting to swim from Lofoden to Moskoe, was caught by the stream and borne down, while he roared terribly, so as to be heard on shore. Large stocks of firs and pine trees, after being absorbed by the current, rise again broken and torn to such a degree as if bristles grew upon them. This plainly shows the bottom to consist of craggy rocks, among which they are whirled to and fro. This stream is regulated by the flux and reflux of the sea - it being constantly high and low water every six hours. In the year 1645, early in the morning of Sexagesima Sunday, it raged with such noise and impetuosity that the very stones of the houses on the coast fell to the ground."

In regard to the depth of the water, I could not see how this could have been ascertained at all in the immediate vicinity of the vortex. The "forty fathoms" must have reference only to portions of the channel close upon the shore either of Moskoe or Lofoden. The depth in the centre of the Moskoe-ström must be immeasurably greater ; and no better proof of this fact is necessary than can be obtained from even the sidelong glance into the abyss of the whirl which may be had from the highest crag of Helseggen. Looking down from this pinnacle upon the howling Phlegethon below, I could not help smiling at the simplicity with which the honest Jonas Ramus records, as a matter difficult of belief, the anecdotes of the whales and the bears; for it appeared to me, in fact, a self-evident thing, that the largest ship of the line in existence, coming within the influence of that deadly attraction, could resist it as little as a feather the hurricane, and must disappear bodily and at once.

The attempts to account for the phenomenon - some of which, I remember, seemed to me sufficiently plausible in perusal - now wore a very different and unsatisfactory aspect. The idea generally received is that this, as well as three smaller vortices among the Ferroe islands, "have no other cause than the collision of waves rising and falling, at flux and reflux, against a ridge of rocks and shelves, which confines the water so that it precipitates itself like a cataract ; and thus the higher the flood rises, the deeper must the fall be, and the natural result of all is a whirlpool or vortex, the prodigious suction of which is sufficiently known by lesser experiments." - These are the words of the Encyclopædia Britannica. Kircher and others imagine that in the centre of the channel of the Maelström is an abyss penetrating the globe, and issuing in some very remote part - the Gulf of Bothnia being somewhat decidedly named in one instance. This opinion, idle in itself, was the one to which, as I gazed, my imagination most readily assented ; and, mentioning it to the guide, I was rather surprised to hear him say that, although it was the view almost universally entertained of the subject by the Norwegians, it nevertheless was not his own. As to the former notion he confessed his inability to comprehend it ; and here I agreed with him - for, however conclusive on paper, it becomes altogether unintelligible, and even absurd, amid the thunder of the abyss.

"You have had a good look at the whirl now," said the old man, "and if you will creep round this crag, so as to get in its lee, and deaden the roar of the water, I will tell you a story that will convince you I ought to know something of the Moskoe-ström."

I placed myself as desired, and he proceeded.

"Myself and my two brothers once owned a schooner-rigged smack of about seventy tons burthen, with which we were in the habit of fishing among the islands beyond Moskoe, nearly to Vurrgh. In all violent eddies at sea there is good fishing, at proper opportunities, if one has only the courage to attempt it ; but among the whole of the Lofoden coastmen, we three were the only ones who made a regular business of going out to the islands, as I tell you. The usual grounds are a great way lower down to the southward. There fish can be got at all hours, without much risk, and therefore these places are preferred. The choice spots over here among the rocks, however, not only yield the finest variety, but in far greater abundance ; so that we often got in a single day, what the more timid of the craft could not scrape together in a week. In fact, we made it a matter of desperate speculation - the risk of life standing instead of labor, and courage answering for capital.

"We kept the smack in a cove about five miles higher up the coast than this ; and it was our practice, in fine weather, to take advantage of the fifteen minutes' slack to push across the main channel of the Moskoe-ström, far above the pool, and then drop down upon anchorage somewhere near Otterholm, or Sandflesen, where the eddies are not so violent as elsewhere. Here we used to remain until nearly time for slack-water again, when we weighed and made for home. We never set out upon this expedition without a steady side wind for going and coming - one that we felt sure would not fail us before our return - and we seldom made a mis-calculation upon this point. Twice, during six years, we were forced to stay all night at anchor on account of a dead calm, which is a rare thing indeed just about here ; and once we had to remain on the grounds nearly a week, starving to death, owing to a gale which blew up shortly after our arrival, and made the channel too boisterous to be thought of. Upon this occasion we should have been driven out to sea in spite of everything, (for the whirlpools threw us round and round so violently, that, at length, we fouled our anchor and dragged it) if it had not been that we drifted into one of the innumerable cross currents - here to-day and gone to-morrow - which drove us under the lee of Flimen, where, by good luck, we brought up.

"I could not tell you the twentieth part of the difficulties we encountered 'on the grounds' - it is a bad spot to be in, even in good weather - but we made shift always to run the gauntlet of the Moskoe-ström itself without accident ; although at times my heart has been in my mouth when we happened to be a minute or so behind or before the slack. The wind sometimes was not as strong as we thought it at starting, and then we made rather less way than we could wish, while the current rendered the smack unmanageable. My eldest brother had a son eighteen years old, and I had two stout boys of my own. These would have been of great assistance at such times, in using the sweeps, as well as afterward in fishing - but, somehow, although we ran the risk ourselves, we had not the heart to let the young ones get into the danger - for, after all is said and done, it was a horrible danger, and that is the truth.

"It is now within a few days of three years since what I am going to tell you occurred. It was on the tenth day of July, 18-, a day which the people of this part of the world will never forget - for it was one in which blew the most terrible hurricane that ever came out of the heavens. And yet all the morning, and indeed until late in the afternoon, there was a gentle and steady breeze from the south-west, while the sun shone brightly, so that the oldest seaman among us could not have foreseen what was to follow.

"The three of us - my two brothers and myself - had crossed over to the islands about two o'clock P. M., and had soon nearly loaded the smack with fine fish, which, we all remarked, were more plenty that day than we had ever known them. It was just seven, by my watch , when we weighed and started for home, so as to make the worst of the Ström at slack water, which we knew would be at eight.

"We set out with a fresh wind on our starboard quarter, and for some time spanked along at a great rate, never dreaming of danger, for indeed we saw not the slightest reason to apprehend it. All at once we were taken aback by a breeze from over Helseggen. This was most unusual - something that had never happened to us before - and I began to feel a little uneasy, without exactly knowing why. We put the boat on the wind, but could make no headway at all for the eddies, and I was upon the point of proposing to return to the anchorage, when, looking astern, we saw the whole horizon covered with a singular copper-colored cloud that rose with the most amazing velocity.

"In the meantime the breeze that had headed us off fell away, and we were dead becalmed, drifting about in every direction. This state of things, however, did not last long enough to give us time to think about it. In less than a minute the storm was upon us - in less than two the sky was entirely overcast - and what with this and the driving spray, it became suddenly so dark that we could not see each other in the smack.

"Such a hurricane as then blew it is folly to attempt describing. The oldest seaman in Norway never experienced any thing like it. We had let our sails go by the run before it cleverly took us ; but, at the first puff, both our masts went by the board as if they had been sawed off - the mainmast taking with it my youngest brother, who had lashed himself to it for safety.

"Our boat was the lightest feather of a thing that ever sat upon water. It had a complete flush deck, with only a small hatch near the bow, and this hatch it had always been our custom to batten down when about to cross the Ström, by way of precaution against the chopping seas. But for this circumstance we should have foundered at once - for we lay entirely buried for some moments. How my elder brother escaped destruction I cannot say, for I never had an opportunity of ascertaining. For my part, as soon as I had let the foresail run, I threw myself flat on deck, with my feet against the narrow gunwale of the bow, and with my hands grasping a ring-bolt near the foot of the fore-mast. It was mere instinct that prompted me to do this - which was undoubtedly the very best thing I could have done - for I was too much flurried to think.

"For some moments we were completely deluged, as I say, and all this time I held my breath, and clung to the bolt. When I could stand it no longer I raised myself upon my knees, still keeping hold with my hands, and thus got my head clear. Presently our little boat gave herself a shake, just as a dog does in coming out of the water, and thus rid herself, in some measure, of the seas. I was now trying to get the better of the stupor that had come over me, and to collect my senses so as to see what was to be done, when I felt somebody grasp my arm. It was my elder brother, and my heart leaped for joy, for I had made sure that he was overboard - but the next moment all this joy was turned into horror - for he put his mouth close to my ear, and screamed out the word ' Moskoe-ström ! '

"No one ever will know what my feelings were at that moment. I shook from head to foot as if I had had the most violent fit of the ague. I knew what he meant by that one word well enough - I knew what he wished to make me understand. With the wind that now drove us on, we were bound for the whirl of the Ström, and nothing could save us !

"You perceive that in crossing the Ström channel, we always went a long way up above the whirl, even in the calmest weather, and then had to wait and watch carefully for the slack - but now we were driving right upon the pool itself, and in such a hurricane as this ! 'To be sure,' I thought, 'we shall get there just about the slack - there is some little hope in that' - but in the next moment I cursed myself for being so great a fool as to dream of hope at all. I knew very well that we were doomed, had we been ten times a ninety-gun ship.

"By this time the first fury of the tempest had spent itself, or perhaps we did not feel it so much, as we scudded before it, but at all events the seas, which at first had been kept down by the wind, and lay flat and frothing, now got up into absolute mountains. A singular change, too, had come over the heavens. Around in every direction it was still as black as pitch, but nearly overhead there burst out, all at once, a circular rift of clear sky - as clear as I ever saw - and of a deep bright blue - and through it there blazed forth the full moon with a lustre that I never before knew her to wear. She lit up every thing about us with the greatest distinctness - but, oh God, what a scene it was to light up !

"I now made one or two attempts to speak to my brother - but, in some manner which I could not understand, the din had so increased that I could not make him hear a single word, although I screamed at the top of my voice in his ear. Presently he shook his head, looking as pale as death, and held up one of his finger, as if to say 'listen ! '

"At first I could not make out what he meant - but soon a hideous thought flashed upon me. I dragged my watch from its fob. It was not going. I glanced at its face by the moonlight, and then burst into tears as I flung it far away into the ocean. It had run down at seven o'clock ! We were behind the time of the slack, and the whirl of the Ström was in full fury !

"When a boat is well built, properly trimmed, and not deep laden, the waves in a strong gale, when she is going large, seem always to slip from beneath her - which appears very strange to a landsman - and this is what is called riding, in sea phrase. Well, so far we had ridden the swells very cleverly ; but presently a gigantic sea happened to take us right under the counter, and bore us with it as it rose - up - up - as if into the sky. I would not have believed that any wave could rise so high. And then down we came with a sweep, a slide, and a plunge, that made me feel sick and dizzy, as if I was falling from some lofty mountain-top in a dream. But while we were up I had thrown a quick glance around - and that one glance was all sufficient. I saw our exact position in an instant. The Moskoe-Ström whirlpool was about a quarter of a mile dead ahead - but no more like the every-day Moskoe-Ström, than the whirl as you now see it is like a mill-race. If I had not known where we were, and what we had to expect, I should not have recognised the place at all. As it was, I involuntarily closed my eyes in horror. The lids clenched themselves together as if in a spasm.

"It could not have been more than two minutes afterward until we suddenly felt the waves subside, and were enveloped in foam. The boat made a sharp half turn to larboard, and then shot off in its new direction like a thunderbolt. At the same moment the roaring noise of the water was completely drowned in a kind of shrill shriek - such a sound as you might imagine given out by the waste-pipes of many thousand steam-vessels, letting off their steam all together. We were now in the belt of surf that always surrounds the whirl ; and I thought, of course, that another moment would plunge us into the abyss - down which we could only see indistinctly on account of the amazing velocity with which we wore borne along. The boat did not seem to sink into the water at all, but to skim like an air-bubble upon the surface of the surge. Her starboard side was next the whirl, and on the larboard arose the world of ocean we had left. It stood like a huge writhing wall between us and the horizon.

"It may appear strange, but now, when we were in the very jaws of the gulf, I felt more composed than when we were only approaching it. Having made up my mind to hope no more, I got rid of a great deal of that terror which unmanned me at first. I suppose it was despair that strung my nerves.

"It may look like boasting - but what I tell you is truth - I began to reflect how magnificent a thing it was to die in such a manner, and how foolish it was in me to think of so paltry a consideration as my own individual life, in view of so wonderful a manifestation of God's power. I do believe that I blushed with shame when this idea crossed my mind. After a little while I became possessed with the keenest curiosity about the whirl itself. I positively felt a wish to explore its depths, even at the sacrifice I was going to make ; and my principal grief was that I should never be able to tell my old companions on shore about the mysteries I should see. These, no doubt, were singular fancies to occupy a man's mind in such extremity - and I have often thought since, that the revolutions of the boat around the pool might have rendered me a little light-headed.

"There was another circumstance which tended to restore my self-possession ; and this was the cessation of the wind, which could not reach us in our present situation - for, as you saw yourself, the belt of surf is considerably lower than the general bed of the ocean, and this latter now towered above us, a high, black, mountainous ridge. If you have never been at sea in a heavy gale, you can form no idea of the confusion of mind occasioned by the wind and spray together. They blind, deafen, and strangle you, and take away all power of action or reflection. But we were now, in a great measure, rid of these annoyances - just us death-condemned felons in prison are allowed petty indulgences, forbidden them while their doom is yet uncertain.

"How often we made the circuit of the belt it is impossible to say. We careered round and round for perhaps an hour, flying rather than floating, getting gradually more and more into the middle of the surge, and then nearer and nearer to its horrible inner edge. All this time I had never let go of the ring-bolt. My brother was at the stern, holding on to a small empty water-cask which had been securely lashed under the coop of the counter, and was the only thing on deck that had not been swept overboard when the gale first took us. As we approached the brink of the pit he let go his hold upon this, and made for the ring, from which, in the agony of his terror, he endeavored to force my hands, as it was not large enough to afford us both a secure grasp. I never felt deeper grief than when I saw him attempt this act - although I knew he was a madman when he did it - a raving maniac through sheer fright. I did not care, however, to contest the point with him. I knew it could make no difference whether either of us held on at all ; so I let him have the bolt, and went astern to the cask. This there was no great difficulty in doing ; for the smack flew round steadily enough, and upon an even keel - only swaying to and fro, with the immense sweeps and swelters of the whirl. Scarcely had I secured myself in my new position, when we gave a wild lurch to starboard, and rushed headlong into the abyss. I muttered a hurried prayer to God, and thought all was over.

"As I felt the sickening sweep of the descent, I had instinctively tightened my hold upon the barrel, and closed my eyes. For some seconds I dared not open them - while I expected instant destruction, and wondered that I was not already in my death-struggles with the water. But moment after moment elapsed. I still lived. The sense of falling had ceased ; and the motion of the vessel seemed much as it had been before, while in the belt of foam, with the exception that she now lay more along. I took courage, and looked once again upon the scene.

"Never shall I forget the sensations of awe, horror, and admiration with which I gazed about me. The boat appeared to be hanging, as if by magic, midway down, upon the interior surface of a funnel vast in circumference, prodigious in depth, and whose perfectly smooth sides might have been mistaken for ebony, but for the bewildering rapidity with which they spun around, and for the gleaming and ghastly radiance they shot forth, as the rays of the full moon, from that circular rift amid the clouds which I have already described, streamed in a flood of golden glory along the black walls, and far away down into the inmost recesses of the abyss.

"At first I was too much confused to observe anything accurately. The general burst of terrific grandeur was all that I beheld. When I recovered myself a little, however, my gaze fell instinctively downward. In this direction I was able to obtain an unobstructed view, from the manner in which the smack hung on the inclined surface of the pool. She was quite upon an even keel - that is to say, her deck lay in a plane parallel with that of the water - but this latter sloped at an angle of more than forty-five degrees, so that we seemed to be lying upon our beam-ends. I could not help observing, nevertheless, that I had scarcely more difficulty in maintaining my hold and footing in this situation, than if we had been upon a dead level ; and this, I suppose, was owing to the speed at which we revolved.

"The rays of the moon seemed to search the very bottom of the profound gulf ; but still I could make out nothing distinctly, on account of a thick mist in which everything there was enveloped, and over which there hung a magnificent rainbow, like that narrow and tottering bridge which Mussulmen say is the only pathway between Time and Eternity. This mist, or spray, was no doubt occasioned by the clashing of the great walls of the funnel, as they all met together at the bottom - but the yell that went up to the Heavens from out of that mist, I dare not attempt to describe.

"Our first slide into the abyss itself, from the belt of foam above, had carried us a great distance down the slope ; but our farther descent was by no means proportionate. Round and round we swept - not with any uniform movement - but in dizzying swings and jerks, that sent us sometimes only a few hundred yards - sometimes nearly the complete circuit of the whirl. Our progress downward, at each revolution, was slow, but very perceptible.

"Looking about me upon the wide waste of liquid ebony on which we were thus borne, I perceived that our boat was not the only object in the embrace of the whirl. Both above and below us were visible fragments of vessels, large masses of building timber and trunks of trees, with many smaller articles, such as pieces of house furniture, broken boxes, barrels and staves. I have already described the unnatural curiosity which had taken the place of my original terrors. It appeared to grow upon me as I drew nearer and nearer to my dreadful doom. I now began to watch, with a strange interest, the numerous things that floated in our company. I must have been delirious - for I even sought amusement in speculating upon the relative velocities of their several descents toward the foam below. 'This fir tree,' I found myself at one time saying, 'will certainly be the next thing that takes the awful plunge and disappears,' - and then I was disappointed to find that the wreck of a Dutch merchant ship overtook it and went down before. At length, after making several guesses of this nature, and being deceived in all - this fact - the fact of my invariable miscalculation - set me upon a train of reflection that made my limbs again tremble, and my heart beat heavily once more.

"It was not a new terror that thus affected me, but the dawn of a more exciting hope. This hope arose partly from memory, and partly from present observation. I called to mind the great variety of buoyant matter that strewed the coast of Lofoden, having been absorbed and then thrown forth by the Moskoe-ström. By far the greater number of the articles were shattered in the most extraordinary way - so chafed and roughened as to have the appearance of being stuck full of splinters - but then I distinctly recollected that there were some of them which were not disfigured at all. Now I could not account for this difference except by supposing that the roughened fragments were the only ones which had been completely absorbed - that the others had entered the whirl at so late a period of the tide, or, for some reason, had descended so slowly after entering, that they did not reach the bottom before the turn of the flood came, or of the ebb, as the case might be. I conceived it possible, in either instance, that they might thus be whirled up again to the level of the ocean, without undergoing the fate of those which had been drawn in more early, or absorbed more rapidly. I made, also, three important observations. The first was, that, as a general rule, the larger the bodies were, the more rapid their descent - the second, that, between two masses of equal extent, the one spherical, and the other of any other shape , the superiority in speed of descent was with the sphere - the third, that, between two masses of equal size, the one cylindrical, and the other of any other shape, the cylinder was absorbed the more slowly. Since my escape, I have had several conversations on this subject with an old school-master of the district ; and it was from him that I learned the use of the words 'cylinder' and 'sphere.' He explained to me - although I have forgotten the explanation - how what I observed was, in fact, the natural consequence of the forms of the floating fragments - and showed me how it happened that a cylinder, swimming in a vortex, offered more resistance to its suction, and was drawn in with greater difficulty than an equally bulky body, of any form whatever.

"There was one startling circumstance which went a great way in enforcing these observations, and rendering me anxious to turn them to account, and this was that, at every revolution, we passed something like a barrel, or else the yard or the mast of a vessel, while many of these things, which had been on our level when I first opened my eyes upon the wonders of the whirlpool, were now high up above us, and seemed to have moved but little from their original station.

"I no longer hesitated what to do. I resolved to lash myself securely to the water cask upon which I now held, to cut it loose from the counter, and to throw myself with it into the water. I attracted my brother's attention by signs, pointed to the floating barrels that came near us, and did everything in my power to make him understand what I was about to do. I thought at length that he comprehended my design - but, whether this was the case or not, he shook his head despairingly, and refused to move from his station by the ring-bolt. It was impossible to reach him; the emergency admitted of no delay ; and so, with a bitter struggle, I resigned him to his fate, fastened myself to the cask by means of the lashings which secured it to the counter, and precipitated myself with it into the sea, without another moment's hesitation.

"The result was precisely what I had hoped it might be. As it is myself who now tell you this tale - as you see that I did escape - and as you are already in possession of the mode in which this escape was effected, and must therefore anticipate all that I have farther to say - I will bring my story quickly to conclusion. It might have been an hour, or thereabout, after my quitting the smack, when, having descended to a vast distance beneath me, it made three or four wild gyrations in rapid succession, and, bearing my loved brother with it, plunged headlong, at once and forever, into the chaos of foam below. The barrel to which I was attached sunk very little farther than half the distance between the bottom of the gulf and the spot at which I leaped overboard, before a great change took place in the character of the whirlpool. The slope of the sides of the vast funnel became momently less and less steep. The gyrations of the whirl grew, gradually, less and less violent. By degrees, the froth and the rainbow disappeared, and the bottom of the gulf seemed slowly to uprise. The sky was clear, the winds had gone down, and the full moon was setting radiantly in the west, when I found myself on the surface of the ocean, in full view of the shores of Lofoden, and above the spot where the pool of the Moskoe-ström had been . It was the hour of the slack - but the sea still heaved in mountainous waves from the effects of the hurricane. I was borne violently into the channel of the Ström, and in a few minutes was hurried down the coast into the 'grounds' of the fishermen. A boat picked me up - exhausted from fatigue - and (now that the danger was removed) speechless from the memory of its horror. Those who drew me on board were my old mates and daily companions - but they knew me no more than they would have known a traveller from the spirit-land. My hair which had been raven-black the day before, was as white as you see it now. They say too that the whole expression of my countenance had changed. I told them my story - they did not believe it. I now tell it to you - and I can scarcely expect you to put more faith in it than did the merry fishermen of Lofoden."

THE thousand injuries of Fortunato I had borne as I best could ; but when he ventured upon insult, I vowed revenge. You, who so well know the nature of my soul, will not suppose, however, that I gave utterance to a threat. At length I would be avenged ; this was a point definitively settled - but the very definitiveness with which it was resolved, precluded the idea of risk. I must not only punish, but punish with impunity. A wrong is unredressed when retribution overtakes its redresser. It is equally unredressed when the avenger fails to make himself felt as such to him who has done the wrong.

It must be understood, that neither by word nor deed had I given Fortunato cause to doubt my good will. I continued, as was my wont, to smile in his face, and he did not perceive that my smile now was at the thought of his immolation.

He had a weak point - this Fortunato - although in other regards he was a man to be respected and even feared. He prided himself on his connoisseurship in wine. Few Italians have the true virtuoso spirit. For the most part their enthusiasm is adopted to suit the time and opportunity - to practise imposture upon the British and Austrian millionaires. In painting and gemmary, Fortunato, like his countrymen , was a quack - but in the matter of old wines he was sincere. In this respect I did not differ from him materially : I was skilful in the Italian vintages myself, and bought largely whenever I could.

It was about dusk, one evening during the supreme madness of the carnival season, that I encountered my friend. He accosted me with excessive warmth, for he had been drinking much. The man wore motley. He had on a tight-fitting parti-striped dress, and his head was surmounted by the conical cap and bells. I was so pleased to see him, that I thought I should never have done wringing his hand.

I said to him - "My dear Fortunato, you are luckily met. How remarkably well you are looking to-day ! But I have received a pipe of what passes for Amontillado, and I have my doubts."

"How ?" said he. "Amontillado ? A pipe ? Impossible ! And in the middle of the carnival !"

"I have my doubts," I replied ; "and I was silly enough to pay the full Amontillado price without consulting you in the matter. You were not to be found, and I was fearful of losing a bargain."

"Amontillado !"

"I have my doubts."

"Amontillado !"

"And I must satisfy them."

"Amontillado !"

"As you are engaged, I am on my way to Luchesi. If any one has a critical turn, it is he. He will tell me --"

"Luchesi cannot tell Amontillado from Sherry."

"And yet some fools will have it that his taste is a match for your own."

"Come, let us go."

"Whither ?"

"To your vaults."

"My friend, no ; I will not impose upon your good nature. I perceive you have an engagement. Luchesi --"

"I have no engagement ; - come."

"My friend, no. It is not the engagement, but the severe cold with which I perceive you are afflicted. The vaults are insufferably damp. They are encrusted with nitre."

"Let us go, nevertheless. The cold is merely nothing. Amontillado ! You have been imposed upon. And as for Luchesi, he cannot distinguish Sherry from Amontillado."

Thus speaking, Fortunato possessed himself of my arm. Putting on a mask of black silk, and drawing a roquelaire closely about my person, I suffered him to hurry me to my palazzo.

There were no attendants at home ; they had absconded to make merry in honor of the time. I had told them that I should not return until the morning, and had given them explicit orders not to stir from the house. These orders were sufficient, I well knew, to insure their immediate disappearance, one and all, as soon as my back was turned.

I took from their sconces two flambeaux, and giving one to Fortunato, bowed him through several suites of rooms to the archway that led into the vaults. I passed down a long and winding staircase, requesting him to be cautious as he followed. We came at length to the foot of the descent, and stood together on the damp ground of the catacombs of the Montresors.

The gait of my friend was unsteady, and the bells upon his cap jingled as he strode.

"The pipe," said he.

"It is farther on," said I ; "but observe the white web-work which gleams from these cavern walls."

He turned towards me, and looked into my eyes with two filmy orbs that distilled the rheum of intoxication .

"Nitre ?" he asked, at length.

"Nitre," I replied. "How long have you had that cough ?"

"Ugh ! ugh ! ugh ! - ugh ! ugh ! ugh ! - ugh ! ugh ! ugh ! - ugh ! ugh ! ugh ! - ugh ! ugh ! ugh !"

My poor friend found it impossible to reply for many minutes.

"It is nothing," he said, at last.

"Come," I said, with decision, "we will go back ; your health is precious. You are rich, respected, admired, beloved ; you are happy, as once I was. You are a man to be missed. For me it is no matter. We will go back ; you will be ill, and I cannot be responsible. Besides, there is Luchesi --"

"Enough," he said ; "the cough is a mere nothing; it will not kill me. I shall not die of a cough."

"True - true," I replied ; "and, indeed, I had no intention of alarming you unnecessarily - but you should use all proper caution. A draught of this Medoc will defend us from the damps."

Here I knocked off the neck of a bottle which I drew from a long row of its fellows that lay upon the mould.

"Drink," I said, presenting him the wine.

He raised it to his lips with a leer. He paused and nodded to me familiarly, while his bells jingled.

"I drink," he said, "to the buried that repose around us."

"And I to your long life."

He again took my arm, and we proceeded.

"These vaults," he said, "are extensive."

"The Montresors," I replied, "were a great and numerous family."

"I forget your arms."

"A huge human foot d'or, in a field azure ; the foot crushes a serpent rampant whose fangs are imbedded in the heel."

"And the motto ?"

"Nemo me impune lacessit ."

"Good !" he said.

The wine sparkled in his eyes and the bells jingled. My own fancy grew warm with the Medoc. We had passed through walls of piled bones, with casks and puncheons intermingling, into the inmost recesses of the catacombs. I paused again, and this time I made bold to seize Fortunato by an arm above the elbow.

"The nitre !" I said : "see, it increases. It hangs like moss upon the vaults. We are below the river's bed. The drops of moisture trickle among the bones. Come, we will go back ere it is too late. Your cough --"

"It is nothing," he said ; "let us go on. But first, another draught of the Medoc."

I broke and reached him a flaçon of De Grâve. He emptied it at a breath. His eyes flashed with a fierce light. He laughed and threw the bottle upwards with a gesticulation I did not understand.

I looked at him in surprise. He repeated the movement - a grotesque one.

"You do not comprehend ?" he said.

"Not I," I replied.

"Then you are not of the brotherhood."

"How ?"

"You are not of the masons."

"Yes, yes," I said, "yes, yes."

"You ? Impossible ! A mason ?"

"A mason," I replied.

"A sign," he said.

"It is this," I answered, producing a trowel from beneath the folds of my roquelaire.

"You jest," he exclaimed, recoiling a few paces. "But let us proceed to the Amontillado."

"Be it so," I said, replacing the tool beneath the cloak, and again offering him my arm. He leaned upon it heavily. We continued our route in search of the Amontillado. We passed through a range of low arches, descended, passed on, and descending again, arrived at a deep crypt, in which the foulness of the air caused our flambeaux rather to glow than flame.

At the most remote end of the crypt there appeared another less spacious. Its walls had been lined with human remains, piled to the vault overhead, in the fashion of the great catacombs of Paris. Three sides of this interior crypt were still ornamented in this manner. From the fourth the bones had been thrown down, and lay promiscuously upon the earth, forming at one point a mound of some size. Within the wall thus exposed by the displacing of the bones, we perceived a still interior recess, in depth about four feet, in width three, in height six or seven. It seemed to have been constructed for no especial use in itself, but formed merely the interval between two of the colossal supports of the roof of the catacombs, and was backed by one of their circumscribing walls of solid granite.

It was in vain that Fortunato, uplifting his dull torch, endeavored to pry into the depths of the recess. Its termination the feeble light did not enable us to see.

"Proceed," I said ; "herein is the Amontillado. As for Luchesi --"

"He is an ignoramus," interrupted my friend, as he stepped unsteadily forward, while I followed immediately at his heels. In an instant he had reached the extremity of the niche, and finding his progress arrested by the rock, stood stupidly bewildered. A moment more and I had fettered him to the granite. In its surface were two iron staples, distant from each other about two feet, horizontally. From one of these depended a short chain, from the other a padlock. Throwing the links about his waist, it was but the work of a few seconds to secure it. He was too much astounded to resist. Withdrawing the key I stepped back from the recess.

"Pass your hand," I said, "over the wall ; you cannot help feeling the nitre. Indeed it is very damp. Once more let me implore you to return. No ? Then I must positively leave you. But I must first render you all the little attentions in my power."

"The Amontillado !" ejaculated my friend, not yet recovered from his astonishment.

"True," I replied ; "the Amontillado."

As I said these words I busied myself among the pile of bones of which I have before spoken. Throwing them aside, I soon uncovered a quantity of building stone and mortar. With these materials and with the aid of my trowel, I began vigorously to wall up the entrance of the niche.

I had scarcely laid the first tier of my masonry when I discovered that the intoxication of Fortunato had in a great measure worn off. The earliest indication I had of this was a low moaning cry from the depth of the recess. It was not the cry of a drunken man. There was then a long and obstinate silence. I laid the second tier, and the third, and the fourth ; and then I heard the furious vibrations of the chain. The noise lasted for several minutes, during which, that I might hearken to it with the more satisfaction, I ceased my labors and sat down upon the bones. When at last the clanking subsided , I resumed the trowel, and finished without interruption the fifth, the sixth, and the seventh tier. The wall was now nearly upon a level with my breast. I again paused, and holding the flambeaux over the mason-work, threw a few feeble rays upon the figure within.

A succession of loud and shrill screams, bursting suddenly from the throat of the chained form, seemed to thrust me violently back. For a brief moment I hesitated - I trembled. Unsheathing my rapier, I began to grope with it about the recess : but the thought of an instant reassured me. I placed my hand upon the solid fabric of the catacombs, and felt satisfied. I reapproached the wall. I replied to the yells of him who clamored. I re-echoed - I aided - I surpassed them in volume and in strength. I did this, and the clamorer grew still.

It was now midnight, and my task was drawing to a close. I had completed the eighth, the ninth, and the tenth tier. I had finished a portion of the last and the eleventh ; there remained but a single stone to be fitted and plastered in. I struggled with its weight ; I placed it partially in its destined position. But now there came from out the niche a low laugh that erected the hairs upon my head. It was succeeded by a sad voice, which I had difficulty in recognising as that of the noble Fortunato. The voice said -

"Ha ! ha ! ha ! - he ! he ! - a very good joke indeed - an excellent jest. We will have many a rich laugh about it at the palazzo - he ! he ! he ! - over our wine - he ! he ! he !"

"The Amontillado !" I said.

"He ! he ! he ! - he ! he ! he ! - yes, the Amontillado. But is it not getting late ? Will not they be awaiting us at the palazzo, the Lady Fortunato and the rest ? Let us be gone."

"Yes," I said, "let us be gone."

" For the love of God, Montressor ! "

"Yes," I said, "for the love of God !"

But to these words I hearkened in vain for a reply. I grew impatient. I called aloud -

"Fortunato !"

No answer. I called again -

"Fortunato !"

No answer still. I thrust a torch through the remaining aperture and let it fall within. There came forth in return only a jingling of the bells. My heart grew sick - on account of the dampness of the catacombs. I hastened to make an end of my labor. I forced the last stone into its position ; I plastered it up. Against the new masonry I re-erected the old rampart of bones. For the half of a century no mortal has disturbed them. In pace requiescat !

FOR the most wild, yet most homely narrative which I am about to pen, I neither expect nor solicit belief. Mad indeed would I be to expect it, in a case where my very senses reject their own evidence. Yet, mad am I not - and very surely do I not dream. But to-morrow I die, and to-day I would unburthen my soul. My immediate purpose is to place before the world, plainly, succinctly, and without comment, a series of mere household events. In their consequences, these events have terrified - have tortured - have destroyed me. Yet I will not attempt to expound them. To me, they have presented little but Horror - to many they will seem less terrible than barroques. Hereafter, perhaps, some intellect may be found which will reduce my phantasm to the common-place - some intellect more calm, more logical, and far less excitable than my own, which will perceive, in the circumstances I detail with awe, nothing more than an ordinary succession of very natural causes and effects.

From my infancy I was noted for the docility and humanity of my disposition. My tenderness of heart was even so conspicuous as to make me the jest of my companions. I was especially fond of animals, and was indulged by my parents with a great variety of pets. With these I spent most of my time, and never was so happy as when feeding and caressing them. This peculiarity of character grew with my growth, and in my manhood, I derived from it one of my principal sources of pleasure. To those who have cherished an affection for a faithful and sagacious dog, I need hardly be at the trouble of explaining the nature or the intensity of the gratification thus derivable. There is something in the unselfish and self-sacrificing love of a brute, which goes directly to the heart of him who has had frequent occasion to test the paltry friendship and gossamer fidelity of mere Man .

I married early, and was happy to find in my wife a disposition not uncongenial with my own. Observing my partiality for domestic pets, she lost no opportunity of procuring those of the most agreeable kind. We had birds, gold-fish, a fine dog, rabbits, a small monkey, and a cat .

This latter was a remarkably large and beautiful animal, entirely black, and sagacious to an astonishing degree. In speaking of his intelligence, my wife, who at heart was not a little tinctured with superstition, made frequent allusion to the ancient popular notion, which regarded all black cats as witches in disguise. Not that she was ever serious upon this point - and I mention the matter at all for no better reason than that it happens, just now, to be remembered.

Pluto - this was the cat's name - was my favorite pet and playmate. I alone fed him, and he attended me wherever I went about the house. It was even with difficulty that I could prevent him from following me through the streets.

Our friendship lasted, in this manner, for several years, during which my general temperament and character - through the instrumentality of the Fiend Intemperance - had (I blush to confess it) experienced a radical alteration for the worse. I grew, day by day, more moody, more irritable, more regardless of the feelings of others. I suffered myself to use intemperate language to my wife. At length, I even offered her personal violence. My pets, of course, were made to feel the change in my disposition. I not only neglected, but ill-used them. For Pluto, however, I still retained sufficient regard to restrain me from maltreating him, as I made no scruple of maltreating the rabbits, the monkey, or even the dog, when by accident, or through affection, they came in my way. But my disease grew upon me - for what disease is like Alcohol! - and at length even Pluto, who was now becoming old, and consequently somewhat peevish - even Pluto began to experience the effects of my ill temper.

One night, returning home, much intoxicated, from one of my haunts about town, I fancied that the cat avoided my presence. I seized him; when, in his fright at my violence, he inflicted a slight wound upon my hand with his teeth. The fury of a demon instantly possessed me. I knew myself no longer. My original soul seemed, at once, to take its flight from my body and a more than fiendish malevolence, gin-nurtured, thrilled every fibre of my frame. I took from my waistcoat-pocket a pen-knife, opened it, grasped the poor beast by the throat, and deliberately cut one of its eyes from the socket! I blush, I burn, I shudder, while I pen the damnable atrocity.

When reason returned with the morning - when I had slept off the fumes of the night's debauch - I experienced a sentiment half of horror, half of remorse, for the crime of which I had been guilty; but it was, at best, a feeble and equivocal feeling, and the soul remained untouched. I again plunged into excess, and soon drowned in wine all memory of the deed.

In the meantime the cat slowly recovered. The socket of the lost eye presented, it is true, a frightful appearance, but he no longer appeared to suffer any pain. He went about the house as usual, but, as might be expected, fled in extreme terror at my approach. I had so much of my old heart left, as to be at first grieved by this evident dislike on the part of a creature which had once so loved me. But this feeling soon gave place to irritation. And then came, as if to my final and irrevocable overthrow, the spirit of PERVERSENESS. Of this spirit philosophy takes no account. Yet I am not more sure that my soul lives, than I am that perverseness is one of the primitive impulses of the human heart - one of the indivisible primary faculties, or sentiments, which give direction to the character of Man. Who has not, a hundred times, found himself committing a vile or a silly action, for no other reason than because he knows he should not? Have we not a perpetual inclination, in the teeth of our best judgment, to violate that which is Law , merely because we understand it to be such? This spirit of perverseness, I say, came to my final overthrow. It was this unfathomable longing of the soul to vex itself - to offer violence to its own nature - to do wrong for the wrong's sake only - that urged me to continue and finally to consummate the injury I had inflicted upon the unoffending brute. One morning, in cool blood, I slipped a noose about its neck and hung it to the limb of a tree; - hung it with the tears streaming from my eyes, and with the bitterest remorse at my heart; - hung it because I knew that it had loved me, and because I felt it had given me no reason of offence; - hung it because I knew that in so doing I was committing a sin - a deadly sin that would so jeopardize my immortal soul as to place it - if such a thing wore possible - even beyond the reach of the infinite mercy of the Most Merciful and Most Terrible God.

On the night of the day on which this cruel deed was done, I was aroused from sleep by the cry of fire. The curtains of my bed were in flames. The whole house was blazing. It was with great difficulty that my wife, a servant, and myself, made our escape from the conflagration. The destruction was complete. My entire worldly wealth was swallowed up, and I resigned myself thenceforward to despair.

I am above the weakness of seeking to establish a sequence of cause and effect, between the disaster and the atrocity. But I am detailing a chain of facts - and wish not to leave even a possible link imperfect. On the day succeeding the fire, I visited the ruins. The walls, with one exception, had fallen in. This exception was found in a compartment wall, not very thick, which stood about the middle of the house, and against which had rested the head of my bed. The plastering had here, in great measure, resisted the action of the fire - a fact which I attributed to its having been recently spread. About this wall a dense crowd were collected, and many persons seemed to be examining a particular portion of it with very minute and eager attention. The words "strange!" "singular!" and other similar expressions, excited my curiosity. I approached and saw, as if graven in bas relief upon the white surface, the figure of a gigantic cat. The impression was given with an accuracy truly marvellous. There was a rope about the animal's neck.

When I first beheld this apparition - for I could scarcely regard it as less - my wonder and my terror were extreme. But at length reflection came to my aid. The cat, I remembered, had been hung in a garden adjacent to the house. Upon the alarm of fire, this garden had been immediately filled by the crowd - by some one of whom the animal must have been cut from the tree and thrown, through an open window, into my chamber. This had probably been done with the view of arousing me from sleep. The falling of other walls had compressed the victim of my cruelty into the substance of the freshly-spread plaster; the lime of which, with the flames, and the ammonia from the carcass, had then accomplished the portraiture as I saw it.

Although I thus readily accounted to my reason, if not altogether to my conscience, for the startling fact just detailed, it did not the less fail to make a deep impression upon my fancy. For months I could not rid myself of the phantasm of the cat; and, during this period, there came back into my spirit a half-sentiment that seemed, but was not, remorse. I went so far as to regret the loss of the animal, and to look about me, among the vile haunts which I now habitually frequented, for another pet of the same species, and of somewhat similar appearance, with which to supply its place.

One night as I sat, half stupified, in a den of more than infamy, my attention was suddenly drawn to some black object, reposing upon the head of one of the immense hogsheads of Gin, or of Rum, which constituted the chief furniture of the apartment. I had been looking steadily at the top of this hogshead for some minutes, and what now caused me surprise was the fact that I had not sooner perceived the object thereupon. I approached it, and touched it with my hand. It was a black cat - a very large one - fully as large as Pluto, and closely resembling him in every respect but one. Pluto had not a white hair upon any portion of his body; but this cat had a large, although indefinite splotch of white, covering nearly the whole region of the breast. Upon my touching him, he immediately arose, purred loudly, rubbed against my hand, and appeared delighted with my notice. This, then, was the very creature of which I was in search. I at once offered to purchase it of the landlord; but this person made no claim to it - knew nothing of it - had never seen it before.

I continued my caresses, and, when I prepared to go home, the animal evinced a disposition to accompany me. I permitted it to do so; occasionally stooping and patting it as I proceeded. When it reached the house it domesticated itself at once, and became immediately a great favorite with my wife.

For my own part, I soon found a dislike to it arising within me. This was just the reverse of what I had anticipated; but - I know not how or why it was - its evident fondness for myself rather disgusted and annoyed. By slow degrees, these feelings of disgust and annoyance rose into the bitterness of hatred. I avoided the creature; a certain sense of shame, and the remembrance of my former deed of cruelty, preventing me from physically abusing it. I did not, for some weeks, strike, or otherwise violently ill use it; but gradually - very gradually - I came to look upon it with unutterable loathing, and to flee silently from its odious presence, as from the breath of a pestilence.

What added, no doubt, to my hatred of the beast, was the discovery, on the morning after I brought it home, that, like Pluto, it also had been deprived of one of its eyes. This circumstance, however, only endeared it to my wife, who, as I have already said, possessed, in a high degree, that humanity of feeling which had once been my distinguishing trait, and the source of many of my simplest and purest pleasures.

With my aversion to this cat, however, its partiality for myself seemed to increase. It followed my footsteps with a pertinacity which it would be difficult to make the reader comprehend. Whenever I sat, it would crouch beneath my chair, or spring upon my knees, covering me with its loathsome caresses. If I arose to walk it would get between my feet and thus nearly throw me down, or, fastening its long and sharp claws in my dress, clamber, in this manner, to my breast. At such times, although I longed to destroy it with a blow, I was yet withheld from so doing, partly by a memory of my former crime, but chiefly - let me confess it at once - by absolute dread of the beast.

This dread was not exactly a dread of physical evil - and yet I should be at a loss how otherwise to define it. I am almost ashamed to own - yes, even in this felon's cell, I am almost ashamed to own - that the terror and horror with which the animal inspired me, had been heightened by one of the merest chimaeras it would be possible to conceive. My wife had called my attention, more than once, to the character of the mark of white hair, of which I have spoken, and which constituted the sole visible difference between the strange beast and the one I had destroyed. The reader will remember that this mark, although large, had been originally very indefinite; but, by slow degrees - degrees nearly imperceptible, and which for a long time my Reason struggled to reject as fanciful - it had, at length, assumed a rigorous distinctness of outline. It was now the representation of an object that I shudder to name - and for this, above all, I loathed, and dreaded, and would have rid myself of the monster had I dared - it was now, I say, the image of a hideous - of a ghastly thing - of the GALLOWS ! - oh, mournful and terrible engine of Horror and of Crime - of Agony and of Death !

And now was I indeed wretched beyond the wretchedness of mere Humanity. And a brute beast - whose fellow I had contemptuously destroyed - a brute beast to work out for me - for me a man, fashioned in the image of the High God - so much of insufferable wo! Alas! neither by day nor by night knew I the blessing of Rest any more! During the former the creature left me no moment alone; and, in the latter, I started, hourly, from dreams of unutterable fear, to find the hot breath of the thing upon my face, and its vast weight - an incarnate Night-Mare that I had no power to shake off - incumbent eternally upon my heart !

Beneath the pressure of torments such as these, the feeble remnant of the good within me succumbed. Evil thoughts became my sole intimates - the darkest and most evil of thoughts. The moodiness of my usual temper increased to hatred of all things and of all mankind; while, from the sudden, frequent, and ungovernable outbursts of a fury to which I now blindly abandoned myself, my uncomplaining wife, alas! was the most usual and the most patient of sufferers.

One day she accompanied me, upon some household errand, into the cellar of the old building which our poverty compelled us to inhabit. The cat followed me down the steep stairs, and, nearly throwing me headlong, exasperated me to madness. Uplifting an axe, and forgetting, in my wrath, the childish dread which had hitherto stayed my hand, I aimed a blow at the animal which, of course, would have proved instantly fatal had it descended as I wished. But this blow was arrested by the hand of my wife. Goaded, by the interference, into a rage more than demoniacal, I withdrew my arm from her grasp and buried the axe in her brain. She fell dead upon the spot, without a groan.

This hideous murder accomplished, I set myself forthwith, and with entire deliberation, to the task of concealing the body. I knew that I could not remove it from the house, either by day or by night, without the risk of being observed by the neighbors. Many projects entered my mind. At one period I thought of cutting the corpse into minute fragments, and destroying them by fire. At another, I resolved to dig a grave for it in the floor of the cellar. Again, I deliberated about casting it in the well in the yard - about packing it in a box, as if merchandize, with the usual arrangements, and so getting a porter to take it from the house. Finally I hit upon what I considered a far better expedient than either of these. I determined to wall it up in the cellar - as the monks of the middle ages are recorded to have walled up their victims.

For a purpose such as this the cellar was well adapted. Its walls were loosely constructed, and had lately been plastered throughout with a rough plaster, which the dampness of the atmosphere had prevented from hardening. Moreover, in one of the walls was a projection, caused by a false chimney, or fireplace, that had been filled up, and made to resemble the red of the cellar. I made no doubt that I could readily displace the bricks at this point, insert the corpse, and wall the whole up as before, so that no eye could detect any thing suspicious. And in this calculation I was not deceived. By means of a crow-bar I easily dislodged the bricks, and, having carefully deposited the body against the inner wall, I propped it in that position, while, with little trouble, I re-laid the whole structure as it originally stood. Having procured mortar, sand, and hair, with every possible precaution, I prepared a plaster which could not be distinguished from the old, and with this I very carefully went over the new brickwork. When I had finished, I felt satisfied that all was right. The wall did not present the slightest appearance of having been disturbed. The rubbish on the floor was picked up with the minutest care. I looked around triumphantly, and said to myself - "Here at least, then, my labor has not been in vain."

My next step was to look for the beast which had been the cause of so much wretchedness; for I had, at length, firmly resolved to put it to death. Had I been able to meet with it, at the moment, there could have been no doubt of its fate; but it appeared that the crafty animal had been alarmed at the violence of my previous anger, and forebore to present itself in my present mood. It is impossible to describe, or to imagine, the deep, the blissful sense of relief which the absence of the detested creature occasioned in my bosom. It did not make its appearance during the night - and thus for one night at least, since its introduction into the house, I soundly and tranquilly slept; aye, slept even with the burden of murder upon my soul!

The second and the third day passed, and still my tormentor came not. Once again I breathed as a freeman. The monster, in terror, had fled the premises forever! I should behold it no more! My happiness was supreme! The guilt of my dark deed disturbed me but little. Some few inquiries had been made, but these had been readily answered. Even a search had been instituted - but of course nothing was to be discovered. I looked upon my future felicity as secured.

Upon the fourth day of the assassination, a party of the police came, very unexpectedly, into the house, and proceeded again to make rigorous investigation of the premises. Secure, however, in the inscrutability of my place of concealment, I felt no embarrassment whatever. The officers bade me accompany them in their search. They left no nook or corner unexplored. At length, for the third or fourth time, they descended into the cellar. I quivered not in a muscle. My heart beat calmly as that of one who slumbers in innocence. I walked the cellar from end to end. I folded my arms upon my bosom, and roamed easily to and fro. The police were thoroughly satisfied and prepared to depart. The glee at my heart was too strong to be restrained. I burned to say if but one word, by way of triumph, and to render doubly sure their assurance of my guiltlessness.

"Gentlemen," I said at last, as the party ascended the steps, "I delight to have allayed your suspicions. I wish you all health, and a little more courtesy. By the bye, gentlemen, this - this is a very well constructed house." [In the rabid desire to say something easily, I scarcely knew what I uttered at all.] - "I may say an excellently well constructed house. These walls are you going, gentlemen? - these walls are solidly put together;" and here, through the mere phrenzy of bravado, I rapped heavily, with a cane which I held in my hand, upon that very portion of the brick-work behind which stood the corpse of the wife of my bosom.

But may God shield and deliver me from the fangs of the Arch-Fiend ! No sooner had the reverberation of my blows sunk into silence, than I was answered by a voice from within the tomb! - by a cry, at first muffled and broken, like the sobbing of a child, and then quickly swelling into one long, loud, and continuous scream, utterly anomalous and inhuman - a howl - a wailing shriek, half of horror and half of triumph, such as might have arisen only out of hell, conjointly from the throats of the dammed in their agony and of the demons that exult in the damnation.

Of my own thoughts it is folly to speak. Swooning, I staggered to the opposite wall. For one instant the party upon the stairs remained motionless, through extremity of terror and of awe. In the next, a dozen stout arms were toiling at the wall. It fell bodily. The corpse, already greatly decayed and clotted with gore, stood erect before the eyes of the spectators. Upon its head, with red extended mouth and solitary eye of fire, sat the hideous beast whose craft had seduced me into murder, and whose informing voice had consigned me to the hangman. I had walled the monster up within the tomb!

Dicebant mihi sodales, si sepulchrum amicae visitarem, curas meas aliquantulum forelevatas.

- Ebn Zaiat .

MISERY is manifold. The wretchedness of earth is multiform. Overreaching the wide horizon as the rainbow, its hues are as various as the hues of that arch - as distinct too, yet as intimately blended. Overreaching the wide horizon as the rainbow! How is it that from beauty I have derived a type of unloveliness? - from the covenant of peace, a simile of sorrow? But as, in ethics, evil is a consequence of good, so, in fact, out of joy is sorrow born. Either the memory of past bliss is the anguish of to-day, or the agonies which are, have their origin in the ecstasies which might have been .

My baptismal name is Egaeus; that of my family I will not mention. Yet there are no towers in the land more time-honored than my gloomy, gray, hereditary halls. Our line has been called a race of visionaries; and in many striking particulars - in the character of the family mansion - in the frescos of the chief saloon - in the tapestries of the dormitories - in the chiselling of some buttresses in the armory - but more especially in the gallery of antique paintings - in the fashion of the library chamber - and, lastly, in the very peculiar nature of the library's contents - there is more than sufficient evidence to warrant the belief.

The recollections of my earliest years are connected with that chamber, and with its volumes - of which latter I will say no more. Here died my mother. Herein was I born. But it is mere idleness to say that I had not lived before - that the soul has no previous existence. You deny it? - let us not argue the matter. Convinced myself, I seek not to convince. There is, however, a remembrance of aerial forms - of spiritual and meaning eyes - of sounds, musical yet sad - a remembrance which will not be excluded; a memory like a shadow - vague, variable, indefinite, unsteady; and like a shadow, too, in the impossibility of my getting rid of it while the sunlight of my reason shall exist.

In that chamber was I born. Thus awaking from the long night of what seemed, but was not, nonentity, at once into the very regions of fairy land - into a palace of imagination - into the wild dominions of monastic thought and erudition - it is not singular that I gazed around me with a startled and ardent eye - that I loitered away my boyhood in books, and dissipated my youth in reverie; but it is singular that as years rolled away, and the noon of manhood found me still in the mansion of my fathers - it is wonderful what stagnation there fell upon the springs of my life - wonderful how total an inversion took place in the character of my commonest thought. The realities of the world affected me as visions, and as visions only, while the wild ideas of the land of dreams became, in turn, not the material of my every-day existence, but in very deed that existence utterly and solely in itself.

*         *         *         *         *        *        *

Berenice and I were cousins, and we grew up together in my paternal halls. Yet differently we grew - I, ill of health, and buried in gloom - she, agile, graceful, and overflowing with energy; hers, the ramble on the hill-side - mine the studies of the cloister; I, living within my own heart, and addicted, body and soul, to the most intense and painful meditation - she, roaming carelessly through life, with no thought of the shadows in her path, or the silent flight of the raven-winged hours. Berenice! -I call upon her name - Berenice! - and from the gray ruins of memory a thousand tumultuous recollections are startled at the sound! Ah, vividly is her image before me now, as in the early days of her light-heartedness and joy! Oh, gorgeous yet fantastic beauty! Oh, sylph amid the shrubberies of Arnheim! Oh, Naiad among its fountains! And then - then all is mystery and terror, and a tale which should not be told. Disease - a fatal disease, fell like the simoon upon her frame; and, even while I gazed upon her, the spirit of change swept over her, pervading her mind, her habits, and her character, and, in a manner the most subtle and terrible, disturbing even the identity of her person! Alas! the destroyer came and went! - and the victim -where is she? I knew her not - or knew her no longer as Berenice.

Among the numerous train of maladies superinduced by that fatal and primary one which effected a revolution of so horrible a kind in the moral and physical being of my cousin, may be mentioned as the most distressing and obstinate in its nature, a species of epilepsy not unfrequently terminating in trance itself - trance very nearly resembling positive dissolution, and from which her manner of recovery was in most instances, startlingly abrupt. In the mean time my own disease - for I have been told that I should call it by no other appellation - my own disease, then, grew rapidly upon me, and assumed finally a monomaniac character of a novel and extraordinary form - hourly and momently gaining vigor - and at length obtaining over me the most incomprehensible ascendancy. This monomania, if I must so term it, consisted in a morbid irritability of those properties of the mind in metaphysical science termed the attentive. It is more than probable that I am not understood; but I fear, indeed, that it is in no manner possible to convey to the mind of the merely general reader, an adequate idea of that nervous intensity of interest with which, in my case, the powers of meditation (not to speak technically) busied and buried themselves, in the contemplation of even the most ordinary objects of the universe.

To muse for long unwearied hours, with my attention riveted to some frivolous device on the margin, or in the typography of a book; to become absorbed, for the better part of a summer's day, in a quaint shadow falling aslant upon the tapestry or upon the floor; to lose myself, for an entire night, in watching the steady flame of a lamp, or the embers of a fire; to dream away whole days over the perfume of a flower; to repeat, monotonously, some common word, until the sound, by dint of frequent repetition, ceased to convey any idea whatever to the mind; to lose all sense of motion or physical existence, by means of absolute bodily quiescence long and obstinately persevered in: such were a few of the most common and least pernicious vagaries induced by a condition of the mental faculties, not, indeed, altogether unparalleled, but certainly bidding defiance to anything like analysis or explanation.

Yet let me not be misapprehended. The undue, earnest, and morbid attention thus excited by objects in their own nature frivolous, must not be confounded in character with that ruminating propensity common to all mankind, and more especially indulged in by persons of ardent imagination. It was not even, as might be at first supposed, an extreme condition, or exaggeration of such propensity, but primarily and essentially distinct and different. In the one instance, the dreamer, or enthusiast, being interested by an object usually not frivolous, imperceptibly loses sight of this object in a wilderness of deductions and suggestions issuing therefrom, until, at the conclusion of a day dream often replete with luxury , he finds the incitamentum, or first cause of his musings, entirely vanished and forgotten. In my case, the primary object was invariably frivolous , although assuming, through the medium of my distempered vision, a refracted and unreal importance. Few deductions, if any, were made; and those few pertinaciously returning in upon the original object as a centre. The meditations were never pleasurable; and, at the termination of the reverie, the first cause, so far from being out of sight, had attained that supernaturally exaggerated interest which was the prevailing feature of the disease. In a word, the powers of mind more particularly exercised were, with me, as I have said before, the attentive, and are, with the day-dreamer, the speculative.

My books, at this epoch, if they did not actually serve to irritate the disorder, partook, it will be perceived, largely, in their imaginative and inconsequential nature, of the characteristic qualities of the disorder itself. I well remember, among others, the treatise of the noble Italian, Coelius Secundus Curio, " De Amplitudine Beati Regni Dei; " St. Austin's great work, the "City of God;" and Tertullian's "De Carne Christi ," in which the paradoxical sentence " Mortuus est Dei filius; credible est quia ineptum est: et sepultus resurrexit; certum est quia impossibile est, " occupied my undivided time, for many weeks of laborious and fruitless investigation.

Thus it will appear that, shaken from its balance only by trivial things, my reason bore resemblance to that ocean-crag spoken of by Ptolemy Hephestion, which steadily resisting the attacks of human violence, and the fiercer fury of the waters and the winds, trembled only to the touch of the flower called Asphodel. And although, to a careless thinker, it might appear a matter beyond doubt, that the alteration produced by her unhappy malady, in the moral condition of Berenice, would afford me many objects for the exercise of that intense and abnormal meditation whose nature I have been at some trouble in explaining, yet such was not in any degree the case. In the lucid intervals of my infirmity, her calamity, indeed, gave me pain, and, taking deeply to heart that total wreck of her fair and gentle life, I did not fall to ponder, frequently and bitterly, upon the wonder-working means by which so strange a revolution had been so suddenly brought to pass. But these reflections partook not of the idiosyncrasy of my disease, and were such as would have occurred, under similar circumstances, to the ordinary mass of mankind. True to its own character, my disorder revelled in the less important but more startling changes wrought in the physical frame of Berenice - in the singular and most appalling distortion of her personal identity.

During the brightest days of her unparalleled beauty, most surely I had never loved her. In the strange anomaly of my existence, feelings with me, had never been of the heart, and my passions always were of the mind. Through the gray of the early morning - among the trellised shadows of the forest at noonday - and in the silence of my library at night - she had flitted by my eyes, and I had seen her - not as the living and breathing Berenice, but as the Berenice of a dream; not as a being of the earth, earthy, but as the abstraction of such a being; not as a thing to admire, but to analyze; not as an object of love, but as the theme of the most abstruse although desultory speculation. And now - now I shuddered in her presence, and grew pale at her approach; yet, bitterly lamenting her fallen and desolate condition, I called to mind that she had loved me long, and, in an evil moment, I spoke to her of marriage.

And at length the period of our nuptials was approaching, when, upon an afternoon in the winter of the year - one of those unseasonably warm, calm, and misty days which are the nurse of the beautiful Halcyon , - I sat, (and sat, as I thought, alone,) in the inner apartment of the library. But, uplifting my eyes, I saw that Berenice stood before me.

Was it my own excited imagination - or the misty influence of the atmosphere - or the uncertain twilight of the chamber - or the gray draperies which fell around her figure - that caused in it so vacillating and indistinct an outline? I could not tell. She spoke no word; and I - not for worlds could I have uttered a syllable. An icy chill ran through my frame; a sense of insufferable anxiety oppressed me; a consuming curiosity pervaded my soul; and sinking back upon the chair, I remained for some time breathless and motionless, with my eyes riveted upon her person. Alas! its emaciation was excessive, and not one vestige of the former being lurked in any single line of the contour. My burning glances at length fell upon the face.

The forehead was high, and very pale, and singularly placid; and the once jetty hair fell partially over it, and overshadowed the hollow temples with innumerable ringlets, now of a vivid yellow, and jarring discordantly, in their fantastic character, with the reigning melancholy of the countenance. The eyes were lifeless, and lustreless, and seemingly pupilless, and I shrank involuntarily from their glassy stare to he contemplation of the thin and shrunken lips. They parted; and in a smile of peculiar meaning, the teeth of the changed Berenice disclosed themselves slowly to my view. Would to God that I had never beheld them, or that, having done so, I had died!

*         *         *         *         *        *        *

The shutting of a door disturbed me, and, looking up, I found that my cousin had departed from the chamber. But from the disordered chamber of my brain, had not, alas! departed, and would not be driven away, the white and ghastly spectrum of the teeth. Not a speck on their surface - not a shade on their enamel - not an indenture in their edges - but what that period of her smile had sufficed to brand in upon my memory. I saw them now even more unequivocally than I beheld them then. The teeth! - the teeth! - they were here, and there, and everywhere, and visibly and palpably before me; long, narrow, and excessively white, with the pale lips writhing about them, as in the very moment of their first terrible development. Then came the full fury of my monomania, and I struggled in vain against its strange and irresistible influence. In the multiplied objects of the external world I had no thoughts but for the teeth. For these I longed with a phrenzied desire. All other matters and all different interests became absorbed in their single contemplation. They - they alone were present to the mental eye, and they, in their sole individuality, became the essence of my mental life. I held them in every light. I turned them in every attitude. I surveyed their characteristics. I dwelt upon their peculiarities. I pondered upon their conformation. I mused upon the alteration in their nature. I shuddered as I assigned to them in imagination a sensitive and sentient power, and even when unassisted by the lips, a capability of moral expression. Of Mademoiselle Salle it has been well said, " Que tous ses pas etaient des sentiments ," and of Berenice I more seriously believed que toutes ses dents etaient des idees . Des idees! - ah here was the idiotic thought that destroyed me! Des idees! - ah therefore it was that I coveted them so madly! I felt that their possession could alone ever restore me to peace, in giving me back to reason.

And the evening closed in upon me thus - and then the darkness came, and tarried, and went - and the day again dawned - and the mists of a second night were now gathering around - and still I sat motionless in that solitary room - and still I sat buried in meditation - and still the phantasma of the teeth maintained its terrible ascendancy, as, with the most vivid hideous distinctness, it floated about amid the changing lights and shadows of the chamber. At length there broke in upon my dreams a cry as of horror and dismay; and thereunto, after a pause, succeeded the sound of troubled voices, intermingled with many low moanings of sorrow or of pain. I arose from my seat, and throwing open one of the doors of the library, saw standing out in the ante-chamber a servant maiden, all in tears, who told me that Berenice was - no more! She had been seized with epilepsy in the early morning, and now, at the closing in of the night, the grave was ready for its tenant, and all the preparations for the burial were completed.

*         *         *         *         *        *        *

I found myself sitting in the library, and again sitting there alone. It seemed that I had newly awakened from a confused and exciting dream. I knew that it was now midnight, and I was well aware, that since the setting of the sun, Berenice had been interred. But of that dreary period which intervened I had no positive, at least no definite comprehension. Yet its memory was replete with horror - horror more horrible from being vague, and terror more terrible from ambiguity. It was a fearful page in the record my existence, written all over with dim, and hideous, and unintelligible recollections. I strived to decypher them, but in vain; while ever and anon, like the spirit of a departed sound, the shrill and piercing shriek of a female voice seemed to be ringing in my ears. I had done a deed - what was it? I asked myself the question aloud, and the whispering echoes of the chamber answered me, - " what was it? "

On the table beside me burned a lamp, and near it lay a little box. It was of no remarkable character, and I had seen it frequently before, for it was the property of the family physician; but how came it there, upon my table, and why did I shudder in regarding it? These things were in no manner to be accounted for, and my eyes at length dropped to the open pages of a book, and to a sentence underscored therein. The words were the singular but simple ones of the poet Ebn Zaiat: - " Dicebant mihi sodales si sepulchrum amicae visitarem, curas meas aliquantulum fore levatas ." Why then, as I perused them, did the hairs of my head erect themselves on end, and the blood of my body become congealed within my veins?

There came a light tap at the library door - and, pale as the tenant of a tomb, a menial entered upon tiptoe. His looks were wild with terror, and he spoke to me in a voice tremulous, husky, and very low. What said he? - some broken sentences I heard. He told of a wild cry disturbing the silence of the night - of the gathering together of the household - of a search in the direction of the sound; and then his tones grew thrillingly distinct as he whispered me of a violated grave - of a disfigured body enshrouded, yet still breathing - still palpitating - still alive !

He pointed to garments; - they were muddy and clotted with gore. I spoke not, and he took me gently by the hand: it was indented with the impress of human nails. He directed my attention to some object against the wall. I looked at it for some minutes: it was a spade. With a shriek I bounded to the table, and grasped the box that lay upon it. But I could not force it open; and in my tremor, it slipped from my hands, and fell heavily, and burst into pieces; and from it, with a rattling sound, there rolled out some instruments of dental surgery, intermingled with thirty-two small, white and ivory-looking substances that were scattered to and fro about the floor.

Stay for me there ! I will not fail.
To meet thee in that hollow vale.

[ Exequy on the death of his wife, by Henry King, Bishop of Chichester .]

ILL-FATED and mysterious man ! - bewildered in the brilliancy of thine own imagination, and fallen in the flames of thine own youth ! Again in fancy I behold thee ! Once more thy form hath risen before me ! - not - oh not as thou art - in the cold valley and shadow - but as thou shouldst be - squandering away a life of magnificent meditation in that city of dim visions, thine own Venice - which is a star-beloved Elysium of the sea, and the wide windows of whose Palladian palaces look down with a deep and bitter meaning upon the secrets of her silent waters. Yes ! I repeat it - as thou shouldst be . There are surely other worlds than this - other thoughts than the thoughts of the multitude - other speculations than the speculations of the sophist. Who then shall call thy conduct into question ? who blame thee for thy visionary hours, or denounce those occupations as a wasting away of life, which were but the overflowings of thine everlasting energies ?

It was at Venice, beneath the covered archway there called the Ponte di Sospiri , that I met for the third or fourth time the person of whom I speak. It is with a confused recollection that I bring to mind the circumstances of that meeting. Yet I remember - ah ! how should I forget ? - the deep midnight, the Bridge of Sighs, the beauty of woman, and the Genius of Romance that stalked up and down the narrow canal.

It was a night of unusual gloom. The great clock of the Piazza had sounded the fifth hour of the Italian evening. The square of the Campanile lay silent and deserted, and the lights in the old Ducal Palace were dying fast away. I was returning home from the Piazetta, by way of the Grand Canal. But as my gondola arrived opposite the mouth of the canal San Marco, a female voice from its recesses broke suddenly upon the night, in one wild, hysterical, and long continued shriek. Startled at the sound, I sprang upon my feet : while the gondolier, letting slip his single oar, lost it in the pitchy darkness beyond a chance of recovery, and we were consequently left to the guidance of the current which here sets from the greater into the smaller channel. Like some huge and sable-feathered condor, we were slowly drifting down towards the Bridge of Sighs, when a thousand flambeaux flashing from the windows, and down the staircases of the Ducal Palace, turned all at once that deep gloom into a livid and preternatural day.

A child, slipping from the arms of its own mother, had fallen from an upper window of the lofty structure into the deep and dim canal. The quiet waters had closed placidly over their victim ; and, although my own gondola was the only one in sight, many a stout swimmer, already in the stream, was seeking in vain upon the surface, the treasure which was to be found, alas ! only within the abyss. Upon the broad black marble flagstones at the entrance of the palace, and a few steps above the water, stood a figure which none who then saw can have ever since forgotten. It was the Marchesa Aphrodite - the adoration of all Venice - the gayest of the gay - the most lovely where all were beautiful - but still the young wife of the old and intriguing Mentoni, and the mother of that fair child, her first and only one, who now, deep beneath the murky water, was thinking in bitterness of heart upon her sweet caresses, and exhausting its little life in struggles to call upon her name.

She stood alone. Her small, bare, and silvery feet gleamed in the black mirror of marble beneath her. Her hair, not as yet more than half loosened for the night from its ball-room array, clustered, amid a shower of diamonds, round and round her classical head, in curls like those of the young hyacinth. A snowy-white and gauze-like drapery seemed to be nearly the sole covering to her delicate form ; but the mid-summer and midnight air was hot, sullen, and still, and no motion in the statue-like form itself, stirred even the folds of that raiment of very vapor which hung around it as the heavy marble hangs around the Niobe. Yet - strange to say ! - her large lustrous eyes were not turned downwards upon that grave wherein her brightest hope lay buried - but riveted in a widely different direction ! The prison of the Old Republic is, I think, the stateliest building in all Venice - but how could that lady gaze so fixedly upon it, when beneath her lay stifling her only child ? Yon dark, gloomy niche, too, yawns right opposite her chamber window - what, then, could there be in its shadows - in its architecture - in its ivy-wreathed and solemn cornices - that the Marchesa di Mentoni had not wondered at a thousand times before ? Nonsense ! - Who does not remember that, at such a time as this, the eye, like a shattered mirror, multiplies the images of its sorrow, and sees in innumerable far-off places, the wo which is close at hand ?

Many steps above the Marchesa, and within the arch of the water-gate, stood, in full dress, the Satyr-like figure of Mentoni himself. He was occasionally occupied in thrumming a guitar, and seemed ennuye to the very death, as at intervals he gave directions for the recovery of his child. Stupified and aghast, I had myself no power to move from the upright position I had assumed upon first hearing the shriek, and must have presented to the eyes of the agitated group a spectral and ominous appearance, as with pale countenance and rigid limbs, I floated down among them in that funereal gondola.

All efforts proved in vain. Many of the most energetic in the search were relaxing their exertions, and yielding to a gloomy sorrow. There seemed but little hope for the child ; (how much less than for the mother ! ) but now, from the interior of that dark niche which has been already mentioned as forming a part of the Old Republican prison, and as fronting the lattice of the Marchesa, a figure muffled in a cloak, stepped out within reach of the light, and, pausing a moment upon the verge of the giddy descent, plunged headlong into the canal. As, in an instant afterwards, he stood with the still living and breathing child within his grasp, upon the marble flagstones by the side of the Marchesa, his cloak, heavy with the drenching water, became unfastened, and, falling in folds about his feet, discovered to the wonder-stricken spectators the graceful person of a very young man, with the sound of whose name the greater part of Europe was then ringing.

No word spoke the deliverer. But the Marchesa ! She will now receive her child - she will press it to her heart - she will cling to its little form, and smother it with her caresses. Alas ! another's arms have taken it from the stranger - another's arms have taken it away, and borne it afar off, unnoticed, into the palace ! And the Marchesa ! Her lip - her beautiful lip trembles : tears are gathering in her eyes - those eyes which, like Pliny's acanthus, are "soft and almost liquid." Yes ! tears are gathering in those eyes - and see ! the entire woman thrills throughout the soul, and the statue has started into life ! The pallor of the marble countenance, the swelling of the marble bosom, the very purity of the marble feet, we behold suddenly flushed over with a tide of ungovernable crimson ; and a slight shudder quivers about her delicate frame, as a gentle air at Napoli about the rich silver lilies in the grass.

Why should that lady blush ! To this demand there is no answer - except that, having left, in the eager haste and terror of a mother's heart, the privacy of her own boudoir, she has neglected to enthral her tiny feet in their slippers, and utterly forgotten to throw over her Venetian shoulders that drapery which is their due. What other possible reason could there have been for her so blushing ? - for the glance of those wild appealing eyes ? for the unusual tumult of that throbbing bosom ? - for the convulsive pressure of that trembling hand ? - that hand which fell, as Mentoni turned into the palace, accidentally, upon the hand of the stranger. What reason could there have been for the low - the singularly low tone of those unmeaning words which the lady uttered hurriedly in bidding him adieu ? "Thou hast conquered," she said, or the murmurs of the water deceived me ; "thou hast conquered - one hour after sunrise - we shall meet - so let it be !"

*     *      *     *     *      *     *

The tumult had subsided, the lights had died away within the palace, and the stranger, whom I now recognized, stood alone upon the flags. He shook with inconceivable agitation, and his eye glanced around in search of a gondola. I could not do less than offer him the service of my own ; and he accepted the civility. Having obtained an oar at the water-gate, we proceeded together to his residence, while he rapidly recovered his self-possession, and spoke of our former slight acquaintance in terms of great apparent cordiality.

There are some subjects upon which I take pleasure in being minute. The person of the stranger - let me call him by this title, who to all the world was still a stranger - the person of the stranger is one of these subjects. In height he might have been below rather than above the medium size : although there were moments of intense passion when his frame actually expanded and belied the assertion. The light, almost slender symmetry of his figure, promised more of that ready activity which he evinced at the Bridge of Sighs, than of that Herculean strength which he has been known to wield without an effort, upon occasions of more dangerous emergency. With the mouth and chin of a deity - singular, wild, full, liquid eyes, whose shadows varied from pure hazel to intense and brilliant jet - and a profusion of curling, black hair, from which a forehead of unusual breadth gleamed forth at intervals all light and ivory - his were features than which I have seen none more classically regular, except, perhaps, the marble ones of the Emperor Commodus. Yet his countenance was, nevertheless, one of those which all men have seen at some period of their lives, and have never afterwards seen again. It had no peculiar - it had no settled predominant expression to be fastened upon the memory ; a countenance seen and instantly forgotten - but forgotten with a vague and never-ceasing desire of recalling it to mind. Not that the spirit of each rapid passion failed, at any time, to throw its own distinct image upon the mirror of that face - but that the mirror, mirror-like, retained no vestige of the passion, when the passion had departed.

Upon leaving him on the night of our adventure, he solicited me, in what I thought an urgent manner, to call upon him very early the next morning. Shortly after sunrise, I found myself accordingly at his Palazzo, one of those huge structures of gloomy, yet fantastic pomp, which tower above the waters of the Grand Canal in the vicinity of the Rialto. I was shown up a broad winding staircase of mosaics, into an apartment whose unparalleled splendor burst through the opening door with an actual glare, making me blind and dizzy with luxuriousness.

I knew my acquaintance to be wealthy. Report had spoken of his possessions in terms which I had even ventured to call terms of ridiculous exaggeration. But as I gazed about me, I could not bring myself to believe that the wealth of any subject in Europe could have supplied the princely magnificence which burned and blazed around.

Although, as I say, the sun had arisen, yet the room was still brilliantly lighted up. I judge from this circumstance, as well as from an air of exhaustion in the countenance of my friend, that he had not retired to bed during the whole of the preceding night. In the architecture and embellishments of the chamber, the evident design had been to dazzle and astound. Little attention had been paid to the decora of what is technically called keeping, or to the proprieties of nationality. The eye wandered from object to object, and rested upon none - neither the grotesques of the Greek painters, nor the sculptures of the best Italian days, nor the huge carvings of untutored Egypt. Rich draperies in every part of the room trembled to the vibration of low, melancholy music, whose origin was not to be discovered. The senses were oppressed by mingled and conflicting perfumes, reeking up from strange convolute censers, together with multitudinous flaring and flickering tongues of emerald and violet fire. The rays of the newly risen sun poured in upon the whole, through windows, formed each of a single pane of crimson-tinted glass. Glancing to and fro, in a thousand reflections, from curtains which rolled from their cornices like cataracts of molten silver, the beams of natural glory mingled at length fitfully with the artificial light, and lay weltering in subdued masses upon a carpet of rich, liquid-looking cloth of Chili gold.

"Ha ! ha ! ha ! - ha ! ha ! ha ! " - laughed the proprietor, motioning me to a seat as I entered the room, and throwing himself back at full-length upon an ottoman. "I see," said he, perceiving that I could not immediately reconcile myself to the bienseance of so singular a welcome - "I see you are astonished at my apartment - at my statues - my pictures - my originality of conception in architecture and upholstery ! absolutely drunk, eh, with my magnificence ? But pardon me, my dear sir, (here his tone of voice dropped to the very spirit of cordiality,) pardon me for my uncharitable laughter. You appeared so utterly astonished. Besides, some things are so completely ludicrous, that a man must laugh or die. To die laughing, must be the most glorious of all glorious deaths ! Sir Thomas More - a very fine man was Sir Thomas More - Sir Thomas More died laughing, you remember. Also in the Absurdities of Ravisius Textor, there is a long list of characters who came to the same magnificent end. Do you know, however," continued he musingly, "that at Sparta (which is now Palæ ; ochori,) at Sparta, I say, to the west of the citadel, among a chaos of scarcely visible ruins, is a kind of socle, upon which are still legible the letters 7!=9 . They are undoubtedly part of '+7!=9! . Now, at Sparta were a thousand temples and shrines to a thousand different divinities. How exceedingly strange that the altar of Laughter should have survived all the others ! But in the present instance," he resumed, with a singular alteration of voice and manner, "I have no right to be merry at your expense. You might well have been amazed. Europe cannot produce anything so fine as this, my little regal cabinet. My other apartments are by no means of the same order - mere ultras of fashionable insipidity. This is better than fashion - is it not ? Yet this has but to be seen to become the rage - that is, with those who could afford it at the cost of their entire patrimony. I have guarded, however, against any such profanation. With one exception, you are the only human being besides myself and my valet, who has been admitted within the mysteries of these imperial precincts, since they have been bedizzened as you see !"

I bowed in acknowledgment - for the overpowering sense of splendor and perfume, and music, together with the unexpected eccentricity of his address and manner, prevented me from expressing, in words, my appreciation of what I might have construed into a compliment.

"Here," he resumed, arising and leaning on my arm as he sauntered around the apartment, "here are paintings from the Greeks to Cimabue, and from Cimabue to the present hour. Many are chosen, as you see, with little deference to the opinions of Virtu. They are all, however, fitting tapestry for a chamber such as this. Here, too, are some chefs d'oeuvre of the unknown great ; and here, unfinished designs by men, celebrated in their day, whose very names the perspicacity of the academies has left to silence and to me. What think you," said he, turning abruptly as he spoke - "what think you of this Madonna della Pieta ?"

"It is Guido's own ! " I said, with all the enthusiasm of my nature, for I had been poring intently over its surpassing loveliness. "It is Guido's own ! - how could you have obtained it ? - she is undoubtedly in painting what the Venus is in sculpture."

"Ha ! " said he thoughtfully, "the Venus - the beautiful Venus ? - the Venus of the Medici ? - she of the diminutive head and the gilded hair ? Part of the left arm (here his voice dropped so as to be heard with difficulty,) and all the right, are restorations ; and in the coquetry of that right arm lies, I think, the quintessence of all affectation. Give me the Canova ! The Apollo, too, is a copy - there can be no doubt of it - blind fool that I am, who cannot behold the boasted inspiration of the Apollo ! I cannot help - pity me ! - I cannot help preferring the Antinous. Was it not Socrates who said that the statuary found his statue in the block of marble ? Then Michael Angelo was by no means original in his couplet -

     'Non ha l'ottimo artista alcun concetto
     Che un marmo solo in se non circunscriva.' "

It has been, or should be remarked, that, in the manner of the true gentleman, we are always aware of a difference from the bearing of the vulgar, without being at once precisely able to determine in what such difference consists. Allowing the remark to have applied in its full force to the outward demeanor of my acquaintance, I felt it, on that eventful morning, still more fully applicable to his moral temperament and character. Nor can I better define that peculiarity of spirit which seemed to place him so essentially apart from all other human beings, than by calling it a habit of intense and continual thought, pervading even his most trivial actions - intruding upon his moments of dalliance - and interweaving itself with his very flashes of merriment - like adders which writhe from out the eyes of the grinning masks in the cornices around the temples of Persepolis.

I could not help, however, repeatedly observing, through the mingled tone of levity and solemnity with which he rapidly descanted upon matters of little importance, a certain air of trepidation - a degree of nervous unction in action and in speech - an unquiet excitability of manner which appeared to me at all times unaccountable, and upon some occasions even filled me with alarm. Frequently, too, pausing in the middle of a sentence whose commencement he had apparently forgotten, he seemed to be listening in the deepest attention, as if either in momentary expectation of a visiter, or to sounds which must have had existence in his imagination alone.

It was during one of these reveries or pauses of apparent abstraction, that, in turning over a page of the poet and scholar Politian's beautiful tragedy "The Orfeo," (the first native Italian tragedy,) which lay near me upon an ottoman, I discovered a passage underlined in pencil. It was a passage towards the end of the third act - a passage of the most heart-stirring excitement - a passage which, although tainted with impurity, no man shall read without a thrill of novel emotion - no woman without a sigh. The whole page was blotted with fresh tears ; and, upon the opposite interleaf, were the following English lines, written in a hand so very different from the peculiar characters of my acquaintance, that I had some difficulty in recognising it as his own : -

     Thou wast that all to me, love,
        For which my soul did pine -
     A green isle in the sea, love,
        A fountain and a shrine,
     All wreathed with fairy fruits and flowers ;
        And all the flowers were mine.
     Ah, dream too bright to last !
        Ah, starry Hope, that didst arise
     But to be overcast !
        A voice from out the Future cries,
     "Onward !  " - but o'er the Past
        (Dim gulf !  ) my spirit hovering lies,
     Mute - motionless - aghast !
     For alas !  alas !  with me
        The light of life is o'er.
     "No more - no more - no more,"
     (Such language holds the solemn sea
        To the sands upon the shore,)
     Shall bloom the thunder-blasted tree,
        Or the stricken eagle soar !
     Now all my hours are trances ;
        And all my nightly dreams
     Are where the dark eye glances,
        And where thy footstep gleams,
     In what ethereal dances,
        By what Italian streams.
     Alas !  for that accursed time
        They bore thee o'er the billow,
     From Love to titled age and crime,
        And an unholy pillow !  -
     From me, and from our misty clime,
        Where weeps the silver willow  !

That these lines were written in English - a language with which I had not believed their author acquainted - afforded me little matter for surprise. I was too well aware of the extent of his acquirements, and of the singular pleasure he took in concealing them from observation, to be astonished at any similar discovery ; but the place of date, I must confess, occasioned me no little amazement. It had been originally written London , and afterwards carefully overscored - not, however, so effectually as to conceal the word from a scrutinizing eye. I say, this occasioned me no little amazement ; for I well remember that, in a former conversation with a friend, I particularly inquired if he had at any time met in London the Marchesa di Mentoni, (who for some years previous to her marriage had resided in that city,) when his answer, if I mistake not, gave me to understand that he had never visited the metropolis of Great Britain. I might as well here mention, that I have more than once heard, (without, of course, giving credit to a report involving so many improbabilities,) that the person of whom I speak, was not only by birth, but in education, an Englishman .

*      *       *      *       *      *       *      *       *

"There is one painting," said he, without being aware of my notice of the tragedy - "there is still one painting which you have not seen." And throwing aside a drapery, he discovered a full-length portrait of the Marchesa Aphrodite.

Human art could have done no more in the delineation of her superhuman beauty. The same ethereal figure which stood before me the preceding night upon the steps of the Ducal Palace, stood before me once again. But in the expression of the countenance, which was beaming all over with smiles, there still lurked (incomprehensible anomaly !) that fitful stain of melancholy which will ever be found inseparable from the perfection of the beautiful. Her right arm lay folded over her bosom. With her left she pointed downward to a curiously fashioned vase. One small, fairy foot, alone visible, barely touched the earth ; and, scarcely discernible in the brilliant atmosphere which seemed to encircle and enshrine her loveliness, floated a pair of the most delicately imagined wings. My glance fell from the painting to the figure of my friend, and the vigorous words of Chapman's Bussy D'Ambois , quivered instinctively upon my lips :

                        "He is up
     There like a Roman statue !  He will stand
     Till Death hath made him marble !"

"Come," he said at length, turning towards a table of richly enamelled and massive silver, upon which were a few goblets fantastically stained, together with two large Etruscan vases, fashioned in the same extraordinary model as that in the foreground of the portrait, and filled with what I supposed to be Johannisberger. "Come," he said, abruptly, "let us drink ! It is early - but let us drink. It is indeed early," he continued, musingly, as a cherub with a heavy golden hammer made the apartment ring with the first hour after sunrise : "It is indeed early - but what matters it ? let us drink ! Let us pour out an offering to yon solemn sun which these gaudy lamps and censers are so eager to subdue !" And, having made me pledge him in a bumper, he swallowed in rapid succession several goblets of the wine.

"To dream," he continued, resuming the tone of his desultory conversation, as he held up to the rich light of a censer one of the magnificent vases - "to dream has been the business of my life. I have therefore framed for myself, as you see, a bower of dreams. In the heart of Venice could I have erected a better ? You behold around you, it is true, a medley of architectural embellishments. The chastity of Ionia is offended by antediluvian devices, and the sphynxes of Egypt are outstretched upon carpets of gold. Yet the effect is incongruous to the timid alone. Proprieties of place, and especially of time, are the bugbears which terrify mankind from the contemplation of the magnificent. Once I was myself a decorist ; but that sublimation of folly has palled upon my soul. All this is now the fitter for my purpose. Like these arabesque censers, my spirit is writhing in fire, and the delirium of this scene is fashioning me for the wilder visions of that land of real dreams whither I am now rapidly departing." He here paused abruptly, bent his head to his bosom, and seemed to listen to a sound which I could not hear. At length, erecting his frame, he looked upwards, and ejaculated the lines of the Bishop of Chichester :

     "Stay for me there !  I will not fail 
     To meet thee in that hollow vale."

In the next instant, confessing the power of the wine, he threw himself at full-length upon an ottoman.

A quick step was now heard upon the staircase, and a loud knock at the door rapidly succeeded. I was hastening to anticipate a second disturbance, when a page of Mentoni's household burst into the room, and faltered out, in a voice choking with emotion, the incoherent words, "My mistress ! - my mistress ! - Poisoned ! - poisoned ! Oh, beautiful - oh, beautiful Aphrodite !"

Bewildered, I flew to the ottoman, and endeavored to arouse the sleeper to a sense of the startling intelligence. But his limbs were rigid - his lips were livid - his lately beaming eyes were riveted in death. I staggered back towards the table - my hand fell upon a cracked and blackened goblet - and a consciousness of the entire and terrible truth flashed suddenly over my soul.

Edgar Allan Poe (1809-1849), American poet, critic, short story writer, and author of such macabre works as “The Fall of the House of Usher” (1840);

I looked upon the scene before me - upon the mere house, and the simple landscape features of the domain - upon the bleak walls - upon the vacant eye-like windows - upon a few rank sedges - and upon a few white trunks of decayed trees - with an utter depression of soul which I can compare to no earthly sensation more properly than to the after-dream of the reveller upon opium - the bitter lapse into everyday life - the hideous dropping off of the veil. There was an iciness, a sinking, a sickening of the heart - an unredeemed dreariness of thought which no goading of the imagination could torture into aught of the sublime. What was it - I paused to think - what was it that so unnerved me in the contemplation of the House of Usher?

Contributing greatly to the genres of horror and science fiction, Poe is now considered the father of the modern detective story and highly lauded as a poet. Walt Whitman, in his essay titled “Edgar Poe’s Significance” wrote;

Poe’s verses illustrate an intense faculty for technical and abstract beauty, with the rhyming art to excess, an incorrigible propensity toward nocturnal themes, a demoniac undertone behind every page. … There is an indescribable magnetism about the poet’s life and reminiscences, as well as the poems.

Poe’s psychologically thrilling tales examining the depths of the human psyche earned him much fame during his lifetime and after his death. His own life was marred by tragedy at an early age (his parents died before he was three years old) and in his oft-quoted works we can see his darkly passionate sensibilities—a tormented and sometimes neurotic obsession with death and violence and overall appreciation for the beautiful yet tragic mysteries of life. They who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night.—“Elonora”. Poe’s literary criticisms of poetry and the art of short story writing include “The Poetic Principal” and “The Philosophy of Composition”. There have been numerous collections of his works published and many of them have been inspiration for popular television and film adaptations including “The Tell-Tale Heart”, “The Black Cat”, and “The Raven”. He has been the subject of numerous biographers and has significantly influenced many other authors even into the 21st Century.

Edgar Poe was born on 19 January 1809 in Boston, Massachusetts, the son of actors Elizabeth Arnold Hopkins (1787-1811) and David Poe (1784-1810). He had a brother named William Henry (1807-1831) and sister Rosalie (1811-1874). After the death of his parents Edgar was taken in by Frances (d.1829) and John Allan (d.1834), a wealthy merchant in Richmond, Virginia.

Young Edgar traveled with the Allans to England in 1815 and attended school in Chelsea. In 1820 he was back in Richmond where he attended the University of Virginia and studied Latin and poetry and also loved to swim and act. While in school he became estranged from his foster father after accumulating gambling debts. Unable to pay them or support himself, Poe left school and enlisted in the United States Army where he served for two years. He had been writing poetry for some time and in 1827 “Dreams”—Oh! that my young life were a lasting dream! first appeared in the Baltimore North American, the same year his first book Tamerlane and Other Poems was published, at his own expense.

When Poe’s foster mother died in 1829 her deathbed wish was honoured by Edgar and stepfather John reconciling, though it was brief. Poe enlisted in the West Point Military Academy but was dismissed a year later. In 1829 his second book Al Aaraaf, Tamerlane and Minor Poems was published. The same year Poems (1831) was published Poe moved to Baltimore to live with his aunt Maria Clemm, mother of Virginia Eliza Clemm (1822-1847) who would become his wife at the age of thirteen. His brother Henry was also living in the Clemm household but he died of tuberculosis soon after Edgar moved in. In 1833, the Baltimore Saturday Visiter published some of his poems and he won a contest in it for his story “MS found in a Bottle”. In 1835 he became editor and contributor of the Southern Literary Messenger. Though not without his detractors and troubles with employers, it was the start of his career as respected critic and essayist. Other publications which he contributed to were Burton’s Gentleman’s Magazine (1839–1840), Graham’s Magazine (1841–1842), Evening Mirror, and Godey’s Lady’s Book.

After Virginia and Edgar married in Richmond in 1836 they moved to New York City. Poe’s only completed novel The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym was published in 1838. The story starts as an adventure for a young Nantucket stowaway on a whaling ship but soon turns into a chilling tale of mutiny, murder, and cannibalism.

It is with extreme reluctance that I dwell upon the appalling scene which ensued; a scene which, with its minutest details, no after events have been able to efface in the slightest degree from my memory, and whose stern recollection will embitter every future moment of my existence.—Ch. 12

Poe’s contributions to magazines were published as a collection in Tales of the Grotesque and Arabesque (1840) which included “The Duc de L'Omelette”, “Bon-Bon” and “King Pest”. What some consider to be the first detective story, “The Murders in the Rue Morgue” was published in 1841;

Now, brought to this conclusion in so unequivocal a manner as we are, it is not our part, as reasoners, to reject it on account of apparent impossibilities. It is only left for us to prove that these apparent ‘impossibilities’ are, in reality, not such.

Poe’s collection of poetry The Raven and Other Poems (1845) which gained him attention at home and abroad includes the wildly successful “The Raven” and “Eulalie” and “To Helen”;

Lo, in yon brilliant window-niche

How statue-like I see thee stand,

The agate lamp within thy hand,

Ah! Psyche, from the regions which

Are Holy Land!

Poe continued to write poetry, critical essays and short stories including “Ulalume”, “Eureka” and “The Cask of Amontillado” (1846);

It must be understood, that neither by word nor deed had I given Fortunato cause to doubt my good will. I continued, as was my wont, to smile in his face, and he did not perceive that my smile now was at the thought of his immolation.

Now living in their last place of residence, a cottage in the Fordham section of the Bronx in New York City, Virginia died in 1847. Poe turned to alcohol more frequently and was purportedly displaying increasingly erratic behavior. A year later he became engaged to his teenage sweetheart from Richmond, Elmira Royster. In 1849 he embarked on a tour of poetry readings and lecturing, hoping to raise funds so he could start his magazine The Stylus.

There are conflicting accounts surrounding the last days of Edgar Allan Poe and the cause of his death. Some say he died from alcoholism, some claim he was murdered, and various diseases have also been attributed. Most say he was found unconscious in the street and admitted to the Washington College Hospital in Baltimore, Maryland. He died soon after, on 7 October 1849, and was buried unceremoniously in an unmarked grave in the Old Westminster Burying Ground of Baltimore. On this original site now stands a stone with a carving of a raven and the inscription;

Quoth the Raven, Nevermore

Original Burial Place of

Edgar Allan Poe

From

October 9, 1849

Until

November 17, 1875

Mrs. Marian Clemm, His Mother-In-Law

Lies Upon His Right And Virginia Poe

His Wife, Upon His Left. Under The

Monument Erected To Him In This

Cemetery

In a dedication ceremony in 1875, Poe’s remains were reinterred with his aunt Maria Clemm’s in the Poe Memorial Grave which stands in the cemetery’s corner at Fayette and Greene Streets. A bas-relief bust of Poe adorns the marble and granite monument which is simply inscribed with the birth and death dates of Poe (although his birthdate is wrong), Maria, and Virginia who, in 1885, was reinterred with her husband and mother. Letters from Henry Wadsworth Longfellow and Lord Alfred Tennyson were read, and Walt Whitman attended. The mysterious Poe Toaster visits Poe’s grave on his birthdays and leaves a partially filled bottle of cognac and three roses.

All that we see or seem

Is but a dream within a dream.—A Dream within a Dream

These two were distantly related to each other--seventh cousins, or something of that sort. While still babies they became orphans, and were adopted by the Brants, a childless couple, who quickly grew very fond of them. The Brants were always saying: "Be pure, honest, sober, industrious, and considerate of others, and success in life is assured." The children heard this repeated some thousands of times before they understood it; they could repeat it themselves long before they could say the Lord's Prayer; it was painted over the nursery door, and was about the first thing they learned to read. It was destined to be the unswerving rule of Edward Mills's life. Sometimes the Brants changed the wording a little, and said: "Be pure, honest, sober, industrious, considerate, and you will never lack friends."

Baby Mills was a comfort to everybody about him. When he wanted candy and could not have it, he listened to reason, and contented himself without it. When Baby Benton wanted candy, he cried for it until he got it. Baby Mills took care of his toys; Baby Benton always destroyed his in a very brief time, and then made himself to insistently disagreeable that, in order to have peace in the house, little Edward was persuaded to yield up his play-things to him.

When the children were a little older, Georgie became a heavy expense in one respect: he took no care of his clothes; consequently, he shone frequently in new ones, with was not the case with Eddie. The boys grew apace. Eddie was an increasing comfort, Georgie an increasing solicitude. It was always sufficient to say, in answer to Eddie's petitions, "I would rather you would not do it"-- meaning swimming, skating, picnicking, berrying, circusing, and all sorts of things which boys delight in. But no answer was sufficient for Georgie; he had to be humored in his desires, or he would carry them with a high hand. Naturally, no boy got more swimming skating, berrying, and so forth than he; no body ever had a better time. The good Brants did not allow the boys to play out after nine in summer evenings; they were sent to bed at that hour; Eddie honorably remained, but Georgie usually slipped out of the window toward ten, and enjoyed himself until midnight. It seemed impossible to break Georgie of this bad habit, but the Brants managed it at last by hiring him, with apples and marbles, to stay in. The good Brants gave all their time and attention to vain endeavors to regulate Georgie; they said, with grateful tears in their eyes, that Eddie needed no efforts of theirs, he was so good, so considerate, and in all ways so perfect.

By and by the boys were big enough to work, so they were apprenticed to a trade: Edward went voluntarily; George was coaxed and bribed. Edward worked hard and faithfully, and ceased to be an expense to the good Brants; they praised him, so did his master; but George ran away, and it cost Mr. Brant both money and trouble to hunt him up and get him back. By and by he ran away again--more money and more trouble. He ran away a third time--and stole a few things to carry with him. Trouble and expense for Mr. Brant once more; and, besides, it was with the greatest difficulty that he succeeded in persuading the master to let the youth go unprosecuted for the theft.

Edward worked steadily along, and in time became a full partner in his master's business. George did not improve; he kept the loving hearts of his aged benefactors full of trouble, and their hands full of inventive activities to protect him from ruin. Edward, as a boy, had interested himself in Sunday-schools, debating societies, penny missionary affairs, anti-tobacco organizations, anti-profanity associations, and all such things; as a man, he was a quiet but steady and reliable helper in the church, the temperance societies, and in all movements looking to the aiding and uplifting of men. This excited no remark, attracted no attention--for it was his "natural bent."

Finally, the old people died. The will testified their loving pride in Edward, and left their little property to George-- because he "needed it"; whereas, "owing to a bountiful Providence," such was not the case with Edward. The property was left to George conditionally: he must buy out Edward's partner with it; else it must go to a benevolent organization called the Prisoner's Friend Society. The old people left a letter, in which they begged their dear son Edward to take their place and watch over George, and help and shield him as they had done.

Edward dutifully acquiesced, and George became his partner in the business. He was not a valuable partner: he had been meddling with drink before; he soon developed into a constant tippler now, and his flesh and eyes showed the fact unpleasantly. Edward had been courting a sweet and kindly spirited girl for some time. They loved each other dearly, and--But about this period George began to haunt her tearfully and imploringly, and at last she went crying to Edward, and said her high and holy duty was plain before her-- she must not let her own selfish desires interfere with it: she must marry "poor George" and "reform him." It would break her heart, she knew it would, and so on; but duty was duty. So she married George, and Edward's heart came very near breaking, as well as her own. However, Edward recovered, and married another girl-- a very excellent one she was, too.

Children came to both families. Mary did her honest best to reform her husband, but the contract was too large. George went on drinking, and by and by he fell to misusing her and the little ones sadly. A great many good people strove with George--they were always at it, in fact--but he calmly took such efforts as his due and their duty, and did not mend his ways. He added a vice, presently--that of secret gambling. He got deeply in debt; he borrowed money on the firm's credit, as quietly as he could, and carried this system so far and so successfully that one morning the sheriff took possession of the establishment, and the two cousins found themselves penniless.

Times were hard, now, and they grew worse. Edward moved his family into a garret, and walked the streets day and night, seeking work. He begged for it, but in was really not to be had. He was astonished to see how soon his face became unwelcome; he was astonished and hurt to see how quickly the ancient interest which people had had in him faded out and disappeared. Still, he must get work; so he swallowed his chagrin, and toiled on in search of it. At last he got a job of carrying bricks up a ladder in a hod, and was a grateful man in consequence; but after that nobody knew him or cared anything about him. He was not able to keep up his dues in the various moral organizations to which he belonged, and had to endure the sharp pain of seeing himself brought under the disgrace of suspension.

But the faster Edward died out of public knowledge and interest, the faster George rose in them. He was found lying, ragged and drunk, in the gutter one morning. A member of the Ladies' Temperance Refuge fished him out, took him in hand, got up a subscription for him, kept him sober a whole week, then got a situation for him. An account of it was published.

General attention was thus drawn to the poor fellow, and a great many people came forward and helped him toward reform with their countenance and encouragement. He did not drink a drop for two months, and meantime was the pet of the good. Then he fell--in the gutter; and there was general sorrow and lamentation. But the noble sisterhood rescued him again. They cleaned him up, they fed him, they listened to the mournful music of his repentances, they got him his situation again. An account of this, also, was published, and the town was drowned in happy tears over the re-restoration of the poor beast and struggling victim of the fatal bowl. A grand temperance revival was got up, and after some rousing speeches had been made the chairman said, impressively: "We are not about to call for signers; and I think there is a spectacle in store for you which not many in this house will be able to view with dry eyes." There was an eloquent pause, and then George Benton, escorted by a red-sashed detachment of the Ladies of the Refuge, stepped forward upon the platform and signed the pledge. The air was rent with applause, and everybody cried for joy. Everybody wrung the hand of the new convert when the meeting was over; his salary was enlarged next day; he was the talk of the town, and its hero. An account of it was published.

George Benton fell, regularly, every three months, but was faithfully rescued and wrought with, every time, and good situations were found for him. Finally, he was taken around the country lecturing, as a reformed drunkard, and he had great houses and did an immense amount of good.

He was so popular at home, and so trusted--during his sober intervals-- that he was enabled to use the name of a principal citizen, and get a large sum of money at the bank. A mighty pressure was brought to bear to save him from the consequences of his forgery, and it was partially successful--he was "sent up" for only two years. When, at the end of a year, the tireless efforts of the benevolent were crowned with success, and he emerged from the penitentiary with a pardon in his pocket, the Prisoner's Friend Society met him at the door with a situation and a comfortable salary, and all the other benevolent people came forward and gave him advice, encouragement and help. Edward Mills had once applied to the Prisoner's Friend Society for a situation, when in dire need, but the question, "Have you been a prisoner?" made brief work of his case.

While all these things were going on, Edward Mills had been quietly making head against adversity. He was still poor, but was in receipt of a steady and sufficient salary, as the respected and trusted cashier of a bank. George Benton never came near him, and was never heard to inquire about him. George got to indulging in long absences from the town; there were ill reports about him, but nothing definite.

One winter's night some masked burglars forced their way into the bank, and found Edward Mills there alone. They commanded him to reveal the "combination," so that they could get into the safe. He refused. They threatened his life. He said his employers trusted him, and he could not be traitor to that trust. He could die, if he must, but while he lived he would be faithful; he would not yield up the "combination." The burglars killed him.

The detectives hunted down the criminals; the chief one proved to be George Benton. A wide sympathy was felt for the widow and orphans of the dead man, and all the newspapers in the land begged that all the banks in the land would testify their appreciation of the fidelity and heroism of the murdered cashier by coming forward with a generous contribution of money in aid of his family, now bereft of support. The result was a mass of solid cash amounting to upward of five hundred dollars--an average of nearly three-eights of a cent for each bank in the Union. The cashier's own bank testified its gratitude by endeavoring to show (but humiliatingly failed in it) that the peerless servant's accounts were not square, and that he himself had knocked his brains out with a bludgeon to escape detection and punishment.

George Benton was arraigned for trial. Then everybody seemed to forget the widow and orphans in their solicitude for poor George. Everything that money and influence could do was done to save him, but it all failed; he was sentenced to death. Straightway the Governor was besieged with petitions for commutation or pardon; they were brought by tearful young girls; by sorrowful old maids; by deputations of pathetic widows; by shoals of impressive orphans. But no, the Governor--for once--would not yield.

Now George Benton experienced religion. The glad news flew all around. From that time forth his cell was always full of girls and women and fresh flowers; all the day long there was prayer, and hymn-singing, and thanksgiving, and homilies, and tears, with never an interruption, except an occasional five-minute intermission for refreshments.

This sort of thing continued up to the very gallows, and George Benton went proudly home, in the black cap, before a wailing audience of the sweetest and best that the region could produce. His grave had fresh flowers on it every day, for a while, and the head-stone bore these words, under a hand pointing aloft: "He has fought the good fight."

The brave cashier's head-stone has this inscription: "Be pure, honest, sober, industrious, considerate, and you will never--"

Nobody knows who gave the order to leave it that way, but it was so given.

The cashier's family are in stringent circumstances, now, it is said; but no matter; a lot of appreciative people, who were not willing that an act so brave and true as his should go unrewarded, have collected forty-two thousand dollars--and built a Memorial Church with it.

From My Unpublished Autobiography

Some days ago a correspondent sent in an old typewritten sheet, faded by age, containing the following letter over the signature of Mark Twain:

"Hartford, March 10, 1875.

"Please do not use my name in any way. Please do not even divulge that fact that I own a machine. I have entirely stopped using the typewriter, for the reason that I never could write a letter with it to anybody without receiving a request by return mail that I would not only describe the machine, but state what progress I had made in the use of it, etc., etc. I don't like to write letters, and so I don't want people to know I own this curiosity-breeding little joker."

A note was sent to Mr. Clemens asking him if the letter was genuine and whether he really had a typewriter as long ago as that. Mr. Clemens replied that his best answer is the following chapter from his unpublished autobiography:

1904. VILLA QUARTO, FLORENCE, JANUARY.

Dictating autobiography to a typewriter is a new experience for me, but it goes very well, and is going to save time and "language"-- the kind of language that soothes vexation.

I have dictated to a typewriter before--but not autobiography. Between that experience and the present one there lies a mighty gap-- more than thirty years! It is sort of lifetime. In that wide interval much has happened--to the type-machine as well as to the rest of us. At the beginning of that interval a type-machine was a curiosity. The person who owned one was a curiosity, too. But now it is the other way about: the person who doesn't own one is a curiosity. I saw a type-machine for the first time in--what year? I suppose it was 1873--because Nasby was with me at the time, and it was in Boston. We must have been lecturing, or we could not have been in Boston, I take it. I quitted the platform that season.

But never mind about that, it is no matter. Nasby and I saw the machine through a window, and went in to look at it. The salesman explained it to us, showed us samples of its work, and said it could do fifty-seven words a minute--a statement which we frankly confessed that we did not believe. So he put his type-girl to work, and we timed her by the watch. She actually did the fifty-seven in sixty seconds. We were partly convinced, but said it probably couldn't happen again. But it did. We timed the girl over and over again--with the same result always: she won out. She did her work on narrow slips of paper, and we pocketed them as fast as she turned them out, to show as curiosities. The price of the machine was one hundred and twenty-five dollars. I bought one, and we went away very much excited.

At the hotel we got out our slips and were a little disappointed to find that they contained the same words. The girl had economized time and labor by using a formula which she knew by heart. However, we argued--safely enough--that the first type-girl must naturally take rank with the first billiard-player: neither of them could be expected to get out of the game any more than a third or a half of what was in it. If the machine survived--if it survived-- experts would come to the front, by and by, who would double the girl's output without a doubt. They would do one hundred words a minute-- my talking speed on the platform. That score has long ago been beaten.

At home I played with the toy, repeated and repeating and repeated "The Boy stood on the Burning Deck," until I could turn that boy's adventure out at the rate of twelve words a minute; then I resumed the pen, for business, and only worked the machine to astonish inquiring visitors. They carried off many reams of the boy and his burning deck.

By and by I hired a young woman, and did my first dictating (letters, merely), and my last until now. The machine did not do both capitals and lower case (as now), but only capitals. Gothic capitals they were, and sufficiently ugly. I remember the first letter I dictated. it was to Edward Bok, who was a boy then. I was not acquainted with him at that time. His present enterprising spirit is not new-- he had it in that early day. He was accumulating autographs, and was not content with mere signatures, he wanted a whole autograph letter. I furnished it--in type-written capitals, signature and all. It was long; it was a sermon; it contained advice; also reproaches. I said writing was my trade, my bread-and-butter; I said it was not fair to ask a man to give away samples of his trade; would he ask the blacksmith for a horseshoe? would he ask the doctor for a corpse?

Now I come to an important matter--as I regard it. In the year '74 the young woman copied a considerable part of a book of mine on the machine. In a previous chapter of this Autobiography I have claimed that I was the first person in the world that ever had a telephone in the house for practical purposes; I will now claim-- until dispossess--that I was the first person in the world to apply the type-machine to literature. That book must have been The Adventures of Tom Sawyer. I wrote the first half of it in '72, the rest of it in '74. My machinist type-copied a book for me in '74, so I concluded it was that one.

That early machine was full of caprices, full of defects--devilish ones. It had as many immoralities as the machine of today has virtues. After a year or two I found that it was degrading my character, so I thought I would give it to Howells. He was reluctant, for he was suspicious of novelties and unfriendly toward them, and he remains so to this day. But I persuaded him. He had great confidence in me, and I got him to believe things about the machine that I did not believe myself. He took it home to Boston, and my morals began to improve, but his have never recovered.

He kept it six months, and then returned it to me. I gave it away twice after that, but it wouldn't stay; it came back. Then I gave it to our coachman, Patrick McAleer, who was very grateful, because he did not know the animal, and thought I was trying to make him wiser and better. As soon as he got wiser and better he traded it to a heretic for a side-saddle which he could not use, and there my knowledge of its history ends.

Chapter I

My father was a St. Bernard, my mother was a collie, but I am a Presbyterian. This is what my mother told me, I do not know these nice distinctions myself. To me they are only fine large words meaning nothing. My mother had a fondness for such; she liked to say them, and see other dogs look surprised and envious, as wondering how she got so much education. But, indeed, it was not real education; it was only show: she got the words by listening in the dining-room and drawing-room when there was company, and by going with the children to Sunday-school and listening there; and whenever she heard a large word she said it over to herself many times, and so was able to keep it until there was a dogmatic gathering in the neighborhood, then she would get it off, and surprise and distress them all, from pocket-pup to mastiff, which rewarded her for all her trouble. If there was a stranger he was nearly sure to be suspicious, and when he got his breath again he would ask her what it meant. And she always told him. He was never expecting this but thought he would catch her; so when she told him, he was the one that looked ashamed, whereas he had thought it was going to be she. The others were always waiting for this, and glad of it and proud of her, for they knew what was going to happen, because they had had experience. When she told the meaning of a big word they were all so taken up with admiration that it never occurred to any dog to doubt if it was the right one; and that was natural, because, for one thing, she answered up so promptly that it seemed like a dictionary speaking, and for another thing, where could they find out whether it was right or not? for she was the only cultivated dog there was. By and by, when I was older, she brought home the word Unintellectual, one time, and worked it pretty hard all the week at different gatherings, making much unhappiness and despondency; and it was at this time that I noticed that during that week she was asked for the meaning at eight different assemblages, and flashed out a fresh definition every time, which showed me that she had more presence of mind than culture, though I said nothing, of course. She had one word which she always kept on hand, and ready, like a life-preserver, a kind of emergency word to strap on when she was likely to get washed overboard in a sudden way--that was the word Synonymous. When she happened to fetch out a long word which had had its day weeks before and its prepared meanings gone to her dump-pile, if there was a stranger there of course it knocked him groggy for a couple of minutes, then he would come to, and by that time she would be away down wind on another tack, and not expecting anything; so when he'd hail and ask her to cash in, I (the only dog on the inside of her game) could see her canvas flicker a moment-- but only just a moment--then it would belly out taut and full, and she would say, as calm as a summer's day, "It's synonymous with supererogation," or some godless long reptile of a word like that, and go placidly about and skim away on the next tack, perfectly comfortable, you know, and leave that stranger looking profane and embarrassed, and the initiated slatting the floor with their tails in unison and their faces transfigured with a holy joy.

And it was the same with phrases. She would drag home a whole phrase, if it had a grand sound, and play it six nights and two matinees, and explain it a new way every time--which she had to, for all she cared for was the phrase; she wasn't interested in what it meant, and knew those dogs hadn't wit enough to catch her, anyway. Yes, she was a daisy! She got so she wasn't afraid of anything, she had such confidence in the ignorance of those creatures. She even brought anecdotes that she had heard the family and the dinner-guests laugh and shout over; and as a rule she got the nub of one chestnut hitched onto another chestnut, where, of course, it didn't fit and hadn't any point; and when she delivered the nub she fell over and rolled on the floor and laughed and barked in the most insane way, while I could see that she was wondering to herself why it didn't seem as funny as it did when she first heard it. But no harm was done; the others rolled and barked too, privately ashamed of themselves for not seeing the point, and never suspecting that the fault was not with them and there wasn't any to see.

You can see by these things that she was of a rather vain and frivolous character; still, she had virtues, and enough to make up, I think. She had a kind heart and gentle ways, and never harbored resentments for injuries done her, but put them easily out of her mind and forgot them; and she taught her children her kindly way, and from her we learned also to be brave and prompt in time of danger, and not to run away, but face the peril that threatened friend or stranger, and help him the best we could without stopping to think what the cost might be to us. And she taught us not by words only, but by example, and that is the best way and the surest and the most lasting. Why, the brave things she did, the splendid things! she was just a soldier; and so modest about it--well, you couldn't help admiring her, and you couldn't help imitating her; not even a King Charles spaniel could remain entirely despicable in her society. So, as you see, there was more to her than her education.

Chapter II

When I was well grown, at last, I was sold and taken away, and I never saw her again. She was broken-hearted, and so was I, and we cried; but she comforted me as well as she could, and said we were sent into this world for a wise and good purpose, and must do our duties without repining, take our life as we might find it, live it for the best good of others, and never mind about the results; they were not our affair. She said men who did like this would have a noble and beautiful reward by and by in another world, and although we animals would not go there, to do well and right without reward would give to our brief lives a worthiness and dignity which in itself would be a reward. She had gathered these things from time to time when she had gone to the Sunday-school with the children, and had laid them up in her memory more carefully than she had done with those other words and phrases; and she had studied them deeply, for her good and ours. One may see by this that she had a wise and thoughtful head, for all there was so much lightness and vanity in it.

So we said our farewells, and looked our last upon each other through our tears; and the last thing she said--keeping it for the last to make me remember it the better, I think--was, "In memory of me, when there is a time of danger to another do not think of yourself, think of your mother, and do as she would do."

Do you think I could forget that? No.

Chapter III

It was such a charming home!--my new one; a fine great house, with pictures, and delicate decorations, and rich furniture, and no gloom anywhere, but all the wilderness of dainty colors lit up with flooding sunshine; and the spacious grounds around it, and the great garden--oh, greensward, and noble trees, and flowers, no end! And I was the same as a member of the family; and they loved me, and petted me, and did not give me a new name, but called me by my old one that was dear to me because my mother had given it me-- Aileen Mavoureen. She got it out of a song; and the Grays knew that song, and said it was a beautiful name.

Mrs. Gray was thirty, and so sweet and so lovely, you cannot imagine it; and Sadie was ten, and just like her mother, just a darling slender little copy of her, with auburn tails down her back, and short frocks; and the baby was a year old, and plump and dimpled, and fond of me, and never could get enough of hauling on my tail, and hugging me, and laughing out its innocent happiness; and Mr. Gray was thirty-eight, and tall and slender and handsome, a little bald in front, alert, quick in his movements, business-like, prompt, decided, unsentimental, and with that kind of trim-chiseled face that just seems to glint and sparkle with frosty intellectuality! He was a renowned scientist. I do not know what the word means, but my mother would know how to use it and get effects. She would know how to depress a rat-terrier with it and make a lap-dog look sorry he came. But that is not the best one; the best one was Laboratory. My mother could organize a Trust on that one that would skin the tax-collars off the whole herd. The laboratory was not a book, or a picture, or a place to wash your hands in, as the college president's dog said--no, that is the lavatory; the laboratory is quite different, and is filled with jars, and bottles, and electrics, and wires, and strange machines; and every week other scientists came there and sat in the place, and used the machines, and discussed, and made what they called experiments and discoveries; and often I came, too, and stood around and listened, and tried to learn, for the sake of my mother, and in loving memory of her, although it was a pain to me, as realizing what she was losing out of her life and I gaining nothing at all; for try as I might, I was never able to make anything out of it at all.

Other times I lay on the floor in the mistress's work-room and slept, she gently using me for a foot-stool, knowing it pleased me, for it was a caress; other times I spent an hour in the nursery, and got well tousled and made happy; other times I watched by the crib there, when the baby was asleep and the nurse out for a few minutes on the baby's affairs; other times I romped and raced through the grounds and the garden with Sadie till we were tired out, then slumbered on the grass in the shade of a tree while she read her book; other times I went visiting among the neighbor dogs-- for there were some most pleasant ones not far away, and one very handsome and courteous and graceful one, a curly-haired Irish setter by the name of Robin Adair, who was a Presbyterian like me, and belonged to the Scotch minister.

The servants in our house were all kind to me and were fond of me, and so, as you see, mine was a pleasant life. There could not be a happier dog that I was, nor a gratefuler one. I will say this for myself, for it is only the truth: I tried in all ways to do well and right, and honor my mother's memory and her teachings, and earn the happiness that had come to me, as best I could.

By and by came my little puppy, and then my cup was full, my happiness was perfect. It was the dearest little waddling thing, and so smooth and soft and velvety, and had such cunning little awkward paws, and such affectionate eyes, and such a sweet and innocent face; and it made me so proud to see how the children and their mother adored it, and fondled it, and exclaimed over every little wonderful thing it did. It did seem to me that life was just too lovely to--

Then came the winter. One day I was standing a watch in the nursery. That is to say, I was asleep on the bed. The baby was asleep in the crib, which was alongside the bed, on the side next the fireplace. It was the kind of crib that has a lofty tent over it made of gauzy stuff that you can see through. The nurse was out, and we two sleepers were alone. A spark from the wood-fire was shot out, and it lit on the slope of the tent. I suppose a quiet interval followed, then a scream from the baby awoke me, and there was that tent flaming up toward the ceiling! Before I could think, I sprang to the floor in my fright, and in a second was half-way to the door; but in the next half-second my mother's farewell was sounding in my ears, and I was back on the bed again., I reached my head through the flames and dragged the baby out by the waist-band, and tugged it along, and we fell to the floor together in a cloud of smoke; I snatched a new hold, and dragged the screaming little creature along and out at the door and around the bend of the hall, and was still tugging away, all excited and happy and proud, when the master's voice shouted:

"Begone you cursed beast!" and I jumped to save myself; but he was furiously quick, and chased me up, striking furiously at me with his cane, I dodging this way and that, in terror, and at last a strong blow fell upon my left foreleg, which made me shriek and fall, for the moment, helpless; the came went up for another blow, but never descended, for the nurse's voice rang wildly out, "The nursery's on fire!" and the master rushed away in that direction, and my other bones were saved.

The pain was cruel, but, no matter, I must not lose any time; he might come back at any moment; so I limped on three legs to the other end of the hall, where there was a dark little stairway leading up into a garret where old boxes and such things were kept, as I had heard say, and where people seldom went. I managed to climb up there, then I searched my way through the dark among the piles of things, and hid in the secretest place I could find. It was foolish to be afraid there, yet still I was; so afraid that I held in and hardly even whimpered, though it would have been such a comfort to whimper, because that eases the pain, you know. But I could lick my leg, and that did some good.

For half an hour there was a commotion downstairs, and shoutings, and rushing footsteps, and then there was quiet again. Quiet for some minutes, and that was grateful to my spirit, for then my fears began to go down; and fears are worse than pains--oh, much worse. Then came a sound that froze me. They were calling me--calling me by name--hunting for me!

It was muffled by distance, but that could not take the terror out of it, and it was the most dreadful sound to me that I had ever heard. It went all about, everywhere, down there: along the halls, through all the rooms, in both stories, and in the basement and the cellar; then outside, and farther and farther away--then back, and all about the house again, and I thought it would never, never stop. But at last it did, hours and hours after the vague twilight of the garret had long ago been blotted out by black darkness.

Then in that blessed stillness my terrors fell little by little away, and I was at peace and slept. It was a good rest I had, but I woke before the twilight had come again. I was feeling fairly comfortable, and I could think out a plan now. I made a very good one; which was, to creep down, all the way down the back stairs, and hide behind the cellar door, and slip out and escape when the iceman came at dawn, while he was inside filling the refrigerator; then I would hide all day, and start on my journey when night came; my journey to--well, anywhere where they would not know me and betray me to the master. I was feeling almost cheerful now; then suddenly I thought: Why, what would life be without my puppy!

That was despair. There was no plan for me; I saw that; I must say where I was; stay, and wait, and take what might come-- it was not my affair; that was what life is--my mother had said it. Then--well, then the calling began again! All my sorrows came back. I said to myself, the master will never forgive. I did not know what I had done to make him so bitter and so unforgiving, yet I judged it was something a dog could not understand, but which was clear to a man and dreadful.

They called and called--days and nights, it seemed to me. So long that the hunger and thirst near drove me mad, and I recognized that I was getting very weak. When you are this way you sleep a great deal, and I did. Once I woke in an awful fright-- it seemed to me that the calling was right there in the garret! And so it was: it was Sadie's voice, and she was crying; my name was falling from her lips all broken, poor thing, and I could not believe my ears for the joy of it when I heard her say:

"Come back to us--oh, come back to us, and forgive--it is all so sad without our--"

I broke in with such a grateful little yelp, and the next moment Sadie was plunging and stumbling through the darkness and the lumber and shouting for the family to hear, "She's found, she's found!"

The days that followed--well, they were wonderful. The mother and Sadie and the servants--why, they just seemed to worship me. They couldn't seem to make me a bed that was fine enough; and as for food, they couldn't be satisfied with anything but game and delicacies that were out of season; and every day the friends and neighbors flocked in to hear about my heroism--that was the name they called it by, and it means agriculture. I remember my mother pulling it on a kennel once, and explaining it in that way, but didn't say what agriculture was, except that it was synonymous with intramural incandescence; and a dozen times a day Mrs. Gray and Sadie would tell the tale to new-comers, and say I risked my life to say the baby's, and both of us had burns to prove it, and then the company would pass me around and pet me and exclaim about me, and you could see the pride in the eyes of Sadie and her mother; and when the people wanted to know what made me limp, they looked ashamed and changed the subject, and sometimes when people hunted them this way and that way with questions about it, it looked to me as if they were going to cry.

And this was not all the glory; no, the master's friends came, a whole twenty of the most distinguished people, and had me in the laboratory, and discussed me as if I was a kind of discovery; and some of them said it was wonderful in a dumb beast, the finest exhibition of instinct they could call to mind; but the master said, with vehemence, "It's far above instinct; it's reason, and many a man, privileged to be saved and go with you and me to a better world by right of its possession, has less of it that this poor silly quadruped that's foreordained to perish"; and then he laughed, and said: "Why, look at me--I'm a sarcasm! bless you, with all my grand intelligence, the only think I inferred was that the dog had gone mad and was destroying the child, whereas but for the beast's intelligence--it's reason, I tell you!--the child would have perished!"

They disputed and disputed, and _I_ was the very center of subject of it all, and I wished my mother could know that this grand honor had come to me; it would have made her proud.

Then they discussed optics, as they called it, and whether a certain injury to the brain would produce blindness or not, but they could not agree about it, and said they must test it by experiment by and by; and next they discussed plants, and that interested me, because in the summer Sadie and I had planted seeds--I helped her dig the holes, you know--and after days and days a little shrub or a flower came up there, and it was a wonder how that could happen; but it did, and I wished I could talk--I would have told those people about it and shown then how much I knew, and been all alive with the subject; but I didn't care for the optics; it was dull, and when the came back to it again it bored me, and I went to sleep.

Pretty soon it was spring, and sunny and pleasant and lovely, and the sweet mother and the children patted me and the puppy good-by, and went away on a journey and a visit to their kin, and the master wasn't any company for us, but we played together and had good times, and the servants were kind and friendly, so we got along quite happily and counted the days and waited for the family.

And one day those men came again, and said, now for the test, and they took the puppy to the laboratory, and I limped three-leggedly along, too, feeling proud, for any attention shown to the puppy was a pleasure to me, of course. They discussed and experimented, and then suddenly the puppy shrieked, and they set him on the floor, and he went staggering around, with his head all bloody, and the master clapped his hands and shouted:

"There, I've won--confess it! He's a blind as a bat!"

And they all said:

"It's so--you've proved your theory, and suffering humanity owes you a great debt from henceforth," and they crowded around him, and wrung his hand cordially and thankfully, and praised him.

But I hardly saw or heard these things, for I ran at once to my little darling, and snuggled close to it where it lay, and licked the blood, and it put its head against mine, whimpering softly, and I knew in my heart it was a comfort to it in its pain and trouble to feel its mother's touch, though it could not see me. Then it dropped down, presently, and its little velvet nose rested upon the floor, and it was still, and did not move any more.

Soon the master stopped discussing a moment, and rang in the footman, and said, "Bury it in the far corner of the garden," and then went on with the discussion, and I trotted after the footman, very happy and grateful, for I knew the puppy was out of its pain now, because it was asleep. We went far down the garden to the farthest end, where the children and the nurse and the puppy and I used to play in the summer in the shade of a great elm, and there the footman dug a hole, and I saw he was going to plant the puppy, and I was glad, because it would grow and come up a fine handsome dog, like Robin Adair, and be a beautiful surprise for the family when they came home; so I tried to help him dig, but my lame leg was no good, being stiff, you know, and you have to have two, or it is no use. When the footman had finished and covered little Robin up, he patted my head, and there were tears in his eyes, and he said: "Poor little doggie, you saved his child!"

I have watched two whole weeks, and he doesn't come up! This last week a fright has been stealing upon me. I think there is something terrible about this. I do not know what it is, but the fear makes me sick, and I cannot eat, though the servants bring me the best of food; and they pet me so, and even come in the night, and cry, and say, "Poor doggie--do give it up and come home; Don't break our hearts!" and all this terrifies me the more, and makes me sure something has happened. And I am so weak; since yesterday I cannot stand on my feet anymore. And within this hour the servants, looking toward the sun where it was sinking out of sight and the night chill coming on, said things I could not understand, but they carried something cold to my heart.

"Those poor creatures! They do not suspect. They will come home in the morning, and eagerly ask for the little doggie that did the brave deed, and who of us will be strong enough to say the truth to them: 'The humble little friend is gone where go the beasts that perish.'"

Thirty-five years ago I was out prospecting on the Stanislaus, tramping all day long with pick and pan and horn, and washing a hatful of dirt here and there, always expecting to make a rich strike, and never doing it. It was a lovely reason, woodsy, balmy, delicious, and had once been populous, long years before, but now the people had vanished and the charming paradise was a solitude. They went away when the surface diggings gave out. In one place, where a busy little city with banks and newspapers and fire companies and a mayor and aldermen had been, was nothing but a wide expanse of emerald turf, with not even the faintest sign that human life had ever been present there. This was down toward Tuttletown. In the country neighborhood thereabouts, along the dusty roads, one found at intervals the prettiest little cottage homes, snug and cozy, and so cobwebbed with vines snowed thick with roses that the doors and windows were wholly hidden from sight--sign that these were deserted homes, forsaken years ago by defeated and disappointed families who could neither sell them nor give them away. Now and then, half an hour apart, one came across solitary log cabins of the earliest mining days, built by the first gold-miners, the predecessors of the cottage-builders. In some few cases these cabins were still occupied; and when this was so, you could depend upon it that the occupant was the very pioneer who had built the cabin; and you could depend on another thing, too--that he was there because he had once had his opportunity to go home to the States rich, and had not done it; had rather lost his wealth, and had then in his humiliation resolved to sever all communication with his home relatives and friends, and be to them thenceforth as one dead. Round about California in that day were scattered a host of these living dead men-- pride-smitten poor fellows, grizzled and old at forty, whose secret thoughts were made all of regrets and longings--regrets for their wasted lives, and longings to be out of the struggle and done with it all.

It was a lonesome land! Not a sound in all those peaceful expanses of grass and woods but the drowsy hum of insects; no glimpse of man or beast; nothing to keep up your spirits and make you glad to be alive. And so, at last, in the early part of the afternoon, when I caught sight of a human creature, I felt a most grateful uplift. This person was a man about forty-five years old, and he was standing at the gate of one of those cozy little rose-clad cottages of the sort already referred to. However, this one hadn't a deserted look; it had the look of being lived in and petted and cared for and looked after; and so had its front yard, which was a garden of flowers, abundant, gay, and flourishing. I was invited in, of course, and required to make myself at home-- it was the custom of the country..

It was delightful to be in such a place, after long weeks of daily and nightly familiarity with miners' cabins--with all which this implies of dirt floor, never-made beds, tin plates and cups, bacon and beans and black coffee, and nothing of ornament but war pictures from the Eastern illustrated papers tacked to the log walls. That was all hard, cheerless, materialistic desolation, but here was a nest which had aspects to rest the tired eye and refresh that something in one's nature which, after long fasting, recognizes, when confronted by the belongings of art, howsoever cheap and modest they may be, that it has unconsciously been famishing and now has found nourishment. I could not have believed that a rag carpet could feast me so, and so content me; or that there could be such solace to the soul in wall-paper and framed lithographs, and bright-colored tidies and lamp-mats, and Windsor chairs, and varnished what-nots, with sea-shells and books and china vases on them, and the score of little unclassifiable tricks and touches that a woman's hand distributes about a home, which one sees without knowing he sees them, yet would miss in a moment if they were taken away. The delight that was in my heart showed in my face, and the man saw it and was pleased; saw it so plainly that he answered it as if it had been spoken.

"All her work," he said, caressingly; "she did it all herself-- every bit," and he took the room in with a glance which was full of affectionate worship. One of those soft Japanese fabrics with which women drape with careful negligence the upper part of a picture-frame was out of adjustment. He noticed it, and rearranged it with cautious pains, stepping back several times to gauge the effect before he got it to suit him. Then he gave it a light finishing pat or two with his hand, and said: "She always does that. You can't tell just what it lacks, but it does lack something until you've done that--you can see it yourself after it's done, but that is all you know; you can't find out the law of it. It's like the finishing pats a mother gives the child's hair after she's got it combed and brushed, I reckon. I've seen her fix all these things so much that I can do them all just her way, though I don't know the law of any of them. But she knows the law. She knows the why and the how both; but I don't know the why; I only know the how."

He took me into a bedroom so that I might wash my hands; such a bedroom as I had not seen for years: white counterpane, white pillows, carpeted floor, papered walls, pictures, dressing-table, with mirror and pin-cushion and dainty toilet things; and in the corner a wash-stand, with real china-ware bowl and pitcher, and with soap in a china dish, and on a rack more than a dozen towels--towels too clean and white for one out of practice to use without some vague sense of profanation. So my face spoke again, and he answered with gratified words:

"All her work; she did it all herself--every bit. Nothing here that hasn't felt the touch of her hand. Now you would think-- But I mustn't talk so much."

By this time I was wiping my hands and glancing from detail to detail of the room's belongings, as one is apt to do when he is in a new place, where everything he sees is a comfort to his eye and his spirit; and I became conscious, in one of those unaccountable ways, you know, that there was something there somewhere that the man wanted me to discover for myself. I knew it perfectly, and I knew he was trying to help me by furtive indications with his eye, so I tried hard to get on the right track, being eager to gratify him. I failed several times, as I could see out of the corner of my eye without being told; but at last I knew I must be looking straight at the thing--knew it from the pleasure issuing in invisible waves from him. He broke into a happy laugh, and rubbed his hands together, and cried out:

"That's it! You've found it. I knew you would. It's her picture."

I went to the little black-walnut bracket on the farther wall, and did find there what I had not yet noticed--a daguerreotype-case. It contained the sweetest girlish face, and the most beautiful, as it seemed to me, that I had ever seen. The man drank the admiration from my face, and was fully satisfied.

"Nineteen her last birthday," he said, as he put the picture back; "and that was the day we were married. When you see her--ah, just wait till you see her!"

"Where is she? When will she be in?"

"Oh, she's away now. She's gone to see her people. They live forty or fifty miles from here. She's been gone two weeks today."

"When do you expect her back?"

"This is Wednesday. She'll be back Saturday, in the evening-- about nine o'clock, likely."

I felt a sharp sense of disappointment.

"I'm sorry, because I'll be gone then," I said, regretfully.

"Gone? No--why should you go? Don't go. She'll be disappointed."

She would be disappointed--that beautiful creature! If she had said the words herself they could hardly have blessed me more. I was feeling a deep, strong longing to see her--a longing so supplicating, so insistent, that it made me afraid. I said to myself: "I will go straight away from this place, for my peace of mind's sake."

"You see, she likes to have people come and stop with us-- people who know things, and can talk--people like you. She delights in it; for she knows--oh, she knows nearly everything herself, and can talk, oh, like a bird--and the books she reads, why, you would be astonished. Don't go; it's only a little while, you know, and she'll be so disappointed."

I heard the words, but hardly noticed them, I was so deep in my thinkings and strugglings. He left me, but I didn't know. Presently he was back, with the picture case in his hand, and he held it open before me and said:

"There, now, tell her to her face you could have stayed to see her, and you wouldn't."

That second glimpse broke down my good resolution. I would stay and take the risk. That night we smoked the tranquil pipe, and talked till late about various things, but mainly about her; and certainly I had had no such pleasant and restful time for many a day. The Thursday followed and slipped comfortably away. Toward twilight a big miner from three miles away came--one of the grizzled, stranded pioneers--and gave us warm salutation, clothed in grave and sober speech. Then he said:

"I only just dropped over to ask about the little madam, and when is she coming home. Any news from her?"

"Oh, yes, a letter. Would you like to hear it, Tom?"

"Well, I should think I would, if you don't mind, Henry!"

Henry got the letter out of his wallet, and said he would skip some of the private phrases, if we were willing; then he went on and read the bulk of it--a loving, sedate, and altogether charming and gracious piece of handiwork, with a postscript full of affectionate regards and messages to Tom, and Joe, and Charley, and other close friends and neighbors.

As the reader finished, he glanced at Tom, and cried out:

"Oho, you're at it again! Take your hands away, and let me see your eyes. You always do that when I read a letter from her. I will write and tell her."

"Oh no, you mustn't, Henry. I'm getting old, you know, and any little disappointment makes me want to cry. I thought she'd be here herself, and now you've got only a letter."

"Well, now, what put that in your head? I thought everybody knew she wasn't coming till Saturday."

"Saturday! Why, come to think, I did know it. I wonder what's the matter with me lately? Certainly I knew it. Ain't we all getting ready for her? Well, I must be going now. But I'll be on hand when she comes, old man!"

Late Friday afternoon another gray veteran tramped over from his cabin a mile or so away, and said the boys wanted to have a little gaiety and a good time Saturday night, if Henry thought she wouldn't be too tired after her journey to be kept up.

"Tired? She tired! Oh, hear the man! Joe, you know she'd sit up six weeks to please any one of you!"

When Joe heard that there was a letter, he asked to have it read, and the loving messages in it for him broke the old fellow all up; but he said he was such an old wreck that that would happen to him if she only just mentioned his name. "Lord, we miss her so!" he said.

Saturday afternoon I found I was taking out my watch pretty often. Henry noticed it, and said, with a startled look:

"You don't think she ought to be here soon, do you?"

I felt caught, and a little embarrassed; but I laughed, and said it was a habit of mine when I was in a state of expenctancy. But he didn't seem quite satisfied; and from that time on he began to show uneasiness. Four times he walked me up the road to a point whence we could see a long distance; and there he would stand, shading his eyes with his hand, and looking. Several times he said:

"I'm getting worried, I'm getting right down worried. I know she's not due till about nine o'clock, and yet something seems to be trying to warn me that something's happened. You don't think anything has happened, do you?"

I began to get pretty thoroughly ashamed of him for his childishness; and at last, when he repeated that imploring question still another time, I lost my patience for the moment, and spoke pretty brutally to him. It seemed to shrivel him up and cow him; and he looked so wounded and so humble after that, that I detested myself for having done the cruel and unnecessary thing. And so I was glad when Charley, another veteran, arrived toward the edge of the evening, and nestled up to Henry to hear the letter read, and talked over the preparations for the welcome. Charley fetched out one hearty speech after another, and did his best to drive away his friend's bodings and apprehensions.

"Anything happened to her? Henry, that's pure nonsense. There isn't anything going to happen to her; just make your mind easy as to that. What did the letter say? Said she was well, didn't it? And said she'd be here by nine o'clock, didn't it? Did you ever know her to fail of her word? Why, you know you never did. Well, then, don't you fret; she'll be here, and that's absolutely certain, and as sure as you are born. Come, now, let's get to decorating-- not much time left."

Pretty soon Tom and Joe arrived, and then all hands set about adoring the house with flowers. Toward nine the three miners said that as they had brought their instruments they might as well tune up, for the boys and girls would soon be arriving now, and hungry for a good, old-fashioned break-down. A fiddle, a banjo, and a clarinet-- these were the instruments. The trio took their places side by side, and began to play some rattling dance-music, and beat time with their big boots.

It was getting very close to nine. Henry was standing in the door with his eyes directed up the road, his body swaying to the torture of his mental distress. He had been made to drink his wife's health and safety several times, and now Tom shouted:

"All hands stand by! One more drink, and she's here!"

Joe brought the glasses on a waiter, and served the party. I reached for one of the two remaining glasses, but Joe growled under his breath:

"Drop that! Take the other."

Which I did. Henry was served last. He had hardly swallowed his drink when the clock began to strike. He listened till it finished, his face growing pale and paler; then he said:

"Boys, I'm sick with fear. Help me--I want to lie down!"

They helped him to the sofa. He began to nestle and drowse, but presently spoke like one talking in his sleep, and said: "Did I hear horses' feet? Have they come?"

One of the veterans answered, close to his ear: "It was Jimmy Parish come to say the party got delayed, but they're right up the road a piece, and coming along. Her horse is lame, but she'll be here in half an hour."

"Oh, I'm so thankful nothing has happened!"

He was asleep almost before the words were out of his mouth. In a moment those handy men had his clothes off, and had tucked him into his bed in the chamber where I had washed my hands. They closed the door and came back. Then they seemed preparing to leave; but I said: "Please don't go, gentlemen. She won't know me; I am a stranger."

They glanced at each other. Then Joe said:

"She? Poor thing, she's been dead nineteen years!"

"Dead?"

"That or worse. She went to see her folks half a year after she was married, and on her way back, on a Saturday evening, the Indians captured her within five miles of this place, and she's never been heard of since."

"And he lost his mind in consequence?"

"Never has been sane an hour since. But he only gets bad when that time of year comes round. Then we begin to drop in here, three days before she's due, to encourage him up, and ask if he's heard from her, and Saturday we all come and fix up the house with flowers, and get everything ready for a dance. We've done it every year for nineteen years. The first Saturday there was twenty-seven of us, without counting the girls; there's only three of us now, and the girls are gone. We drug him to sleep, or he would go wild; then he's all right for another year--thinks she's with him till the last three or four days come round; then he begins to look for her, and gets out his poor old letter, and we come and ask him to read it to us. Lord, she was a darling!"

Two or three persons having at different times intimated that if I would write an autobiography they would read it when they got leisure, I yield at last to this frenzied public demand and herewith tender my history.

Ours is a noble house, and stretches a long way back into antiquity. The earliest ancestor the Twains have any record of was a friend of the family by the name of Higgins. This was in the eleventh century, when our people were living in Aberdeen, county of Cork, England. Why it is that our long line has ever since borne the maternal name (except when one of them now and then took a playful refuge in an alias to avert foolishness), instead of Higgins, is a mystery which none of us has ever felt much desire to stir. It is a kind of vague, pretty romance, and we leave it alone. All the old families do that way.

Arthour Twain was a man of considerable note--a solicitor on the highway in William Rufus's time. At about the age of thirty he went to one of those fine old English places of resort called Newgate, to see about something, and never returned again. While there he died suddenly.

Augustus Twain seems to have made something of a stir about the year 1160. He was as full of fun as he could be, and used to take his old saber and sharpen it up, and get in a convenient place on a dark night, and stick it through people as they went by, to see them jump. He was a born humorist. But he got to going too far with it; and the first time he was found stripping one of these parties, the authorities removed one end of him, and put it up on a nice high place on Temple Bar, where it could contemplate the people and have a good time. He never liked any situation so much or stuck to it so long.

Then for the next two hundred years the family tree shows a succession of soldiers--noble, high-spirited fellows, who always went into battle singing, right behind the army, and always went out a-whooping, right ahead of it.

This is a scathing rebuke to old dead Froissart's poor witticism that our family tree never had but one limb to it, and that that one stuck out at right angles, and bore fruit winter and summer.

Early in the fifteenth century we have Beau Twain, called "the Scholar." He wrote a beautiful, beautiful hand. And he could imitate anybody's hand so closely that it was enough to make a person laugh his head off to see it. He had infinite sport with his talent. But by and by he took a contract to break stone for a road, and the roughness of the work spoiled his hand. Still, he enjoyed life all the time he was in the stone business, which, with inconsiderable intervals, was some forty-two years. In fact, he died in harness. During all those long years he gave such satisfaction that he never was through with one contract a week till the government gave him another. He was a perfect pet. And he was always a favorite with his fellow-artists, and was a conspicuous member of their benevolent secret society, called the Chain Gang. He always wore his hair short, had a preference for striped clothes, and died lamented by the government. He was a sore loss to his country. For he was so regular.

Some years later we have the illustrious John Morgan Twain. He came over to this country with Columbus in 1492 as a passenger. He appears to have been of a crusty, uncomfortable disposition. He complained of the food all the way over, and was always threatening to go ashore unless there was a change. He wanted fresh shad. Hardly a day passed over his head that he did not go idling about the ship with his nose in the air, sneering about the commander, and saying he did not believe Columbus knew where he was going to or had ever been there before. The memorable cry of "Land ho!" thrilled every heart in the ship but his. He gazed awhile through a piece of smoked glass at the penciled line lying on the distant water, and then said: "Land be hanged--it's a raft!"

When this questionable passenger came on board the ship, be brought nothing with him but an old newspaper containing a handkerchief marked "B. G.," one cotton sock marked "L. W. C.," one woolen one marked "D. F.," and a night-shirt marked "O. M. R." And yet during the voyage he worried more about his "trunk," and gave himself more airs about it, than all the rest of the passengers put together. If the ship was "down by the head," and would not steer, he would go and move his "trunk" further aft, and then watch the effect. If the ship was "by the stern," he would suggest to Columbus to detail some men to "shift that baggage." In storms he had to be gagged, because his wailings about his "trunk" made it impossible for the men to hear the orders. The man does not appear to have been openly charged with any gravely unbecoming thing, but it is noted in the ship's log as a "curious circumstance" that albeit he brought his baggage on board the ship in a newspaper, he took it ashore in four trunks, a queensware crate, and a couple of champagne baskets. But when he came back insinuating, in an insolent, swaggering way, that some of this things were missing, and was going to search the other passengers' baggage, it was too much, and they threw him overboard. They watched long and wonderingly for him to come up, but not even a bubble rose on the quietly ebbing tide. But while every one was most absorbed in gazing over the side, and the interest was momentarily increasing, it was observed with consternation that the vessel was adrift and the anchor-cable hanging limp from the bow. Then in the ship's dimmed and ancient log we find this quaint note:

"In time it was discouvered yt ye troblesome passenger hadde gone downe and got ye anchor, and toke ye same and solde it to ye dam sauvages from ye interior, saying yt he hadde founde it, ye sonne of a ghun!"

Yet this ancestor had good and noble instincts, and it is with pride that we call to mind the fact that he was the first white person who ever interested himself in the work of elevating and civilizing our Indians. He built a commodious jail and put up a gallows, and to his dying day he claimed with satisfaction that he had had a more restraining and elevating influence on the Indians than any other reformer that ever labored among them. At this point the chronicle becomes less frank and chatty, and closes abruptly by saying that the old voyager went to see his gallows perform on the first white man ever hanged in America, and while there received injuries which terminated in his death.

The great-grandson of the "Reformer" flourished in sixteen hundred and something, and was known in our annals as "the old Admiral," though in history he had other titles. He was long in command of fleets of swift vessels, well armed and manned, and did great service in hurrying up merchantmen. Vessels which he followed and kept his eagle eye on, always made good fair time across the ocean. But if a ship still loitered in spite of all he could do, his indignation would grow till he could contain himself no longer-- and then he would take that ship home where he lived and keep it there carefully, expecting the owners to come for it, but they never did. And he would try to get the idleness and sloth out of the sailors of that ship by compelling them to take invigorating exercise and a bath. He called it "walking a plank." All the pupils liked it. At any rate, they never found any fault with it after trying it. When the owners were late coming for their ships, the Admiral always burned them, so that the insurance money should not be lost. At last this fine old tar was cut down in the fullness of his years and honors. And to her dying day, his poor heart-broken widow believed that if he had been cut down fifteen minutes sooner he might have been resuscitated.

Charles Henry Twain lived during the latter part of the seventeenth century, and was a zealous and distinguished missionary. He converted sixteen thousand South Sea islanders, and taught them that a dog-tooth necklace and a pair of spectacles was not enough clothing to come to divine service in. His poor flock loved him very, very dearly; and when his funeral was over, they got up in a body (and came out of the restaurant) with tears in their eyes, and saying, one to another, that he was a good tender missionary, and they wished they had some more of him.

Pah-go-to-wah-wah-pukketekeewis (Mighty-Hunter-with-a-Hog-Eye-Twain) adorned the middle of the eighteenth century, and aided General Braddock with all his heart to resist the oppressor Washington. It was this ancestor who fired seventeen times at our Washington from behind a tree. So far the beautiful romantic narrative in the moral story-books is correct; but when that narrative goes on to say that at the seventeenth round the awe-stricken savage said solemnly that that man was being reserved by the Great Spirit for some mighty mission, and he dared not lift his sacrilegious rifle against him again, the narrative seriously impairs the integrity of history. What he did say was:

"It ain't no (hic) no use. 'At man's so drunk he can't stan' still long enough for a man to hit him. I (hic) I can't 'ford to fool away any more am'nition on him."

That was why he stopped at the seventeenth round, and it was a good, plain, matter-of-fact reason, too, and one that easily commends itself to us by the eloquent, persuasive flavor of probability there is about it.

I also enjoyed the story-book narrative, but I felt a marring misgiving that every Indian at Braddock's Defeat who fired at a soldier a couple of times (two easily grows to seventeen in a century), and missed him, jumped to the conclusion that the Great Spirit was reserving that soldier for some grand mission; and so I somehow feared that the only reason why Washington's case is remembered and the others forgotten is, that in his the prophecy came true, and in that of the others it didn't. There are not books enough on earth to contain the record of the prophecies Indians and other unauthorized parties have made; but one may carry in his overcoat pockets the record of all the prophecies that have been fulfilled.

I will remark here, in passing, that certain ancestors of mine are so thoroughly well-known in history by their aliases, that I have not felt it to be worth while to dwell upon them, or even mention them in the order of their birth. Among these may be mentioned Richard Brinsley Twain, alias Guy Fawkes; John Wentworth Twain, alias Sixteen-String Jack; William Hogarth Twain, alias Jack Sheppard; Ananias Twain, alias Baron Munchausen; John George Twain, alias Captain Kydd; and then there are George Francis Twain, Tom Pepper, Nebuchadnezzar, and Baalam's Ass--they all belong to our family, but to a branch of it somewhat distinctly removed from the honorable direct line--in fact, a collateral branch, whose members chiefly differ from the ancient stock in that, in order to acquire the notoriety we have always yearned and hungered for, they have got into a low way of going to jail instead of getting hanged.

It is not well, when writing an autobiography, to follow your ancestry down too close to your own time--it is safest to speak only vaguely of your great-grandfather, and then skip from there to yourself, which I now do.

I was born without teeth--and there Richard III. had the advantage of me; but I was born without a humpback, likewise, and there I had the advantage of him. My parents were neither very poor nor conspicuously honest.

But now a thought occurs to me. My own history would really seem so tame contrasted with that of my ancestors, that it is simply wisdom to leave it unwritten until I am hanged. If some other biographies I have read had stopped with the ancestry until a like event occurred, it would have been a felicitous thing for the reading public. How does it strike you?

Punishing Democracy

By Nawab Khan, Brussels

The European Commission’s Humanitarian Aid Office (ECHO) declares on its website that “aid is intended to go directly to those in distress, irrespective of race, religion or political convictions.“ ECHO also claims that “people are our priority.“

But the recent decision by the European Commission, the EU’s executive arm, to suspend its aid to the Palestinian Authority is a clear contradiction of all these lofty slogans that the EU is proclaiming.

The move by the European bloc sends a disturbing message to the world that humanitarian aid is knit with political interests and ulterior motives.

The United States also announced that it is suspending direct aid to the Hamas-led government.

Not only Palestinian leaders but also western NGO’s denounced the move as a punishment for the Palestinian people for electing the Islamic Hamas movement to form the new government in Palestine.

Palestinian President Mahmoud Abbas said, “The Palestinian people should not be punished for their democratic choice.“ Prime Minister Ismail Haniya called on the world to show respect for the choice of the long-oppressed Palestinian people.

The International aid organization OXFAM said “whatever the politics of such a decision, it would be ordinary people who would suffer the consequences. Cutting aid now would undermine the already fragile local institutions and only hurt ordinary people.“

The European Commission is one of the largest contributors of humanitarian aid to the Palestinian people. It had approved payment of 120 million euros in February to a caretaker Palestinian government following the Palestinian elections of January 25.

The aid is now on hold.

The EU like the US has been pressing Hamas to recognize Israel, renounce armed struggle for liberation of occupied Palestine and accept all past treaties which were signed by the secular Fatah-led PA.

The Palestinian people, however, elected Hamas on its own election platform which was different to Fatah’s.

Therefore, it would not only be illogical but also backtracking if Hamas now drops its own declared policies for which it was indeed elected to adopt the Fatah direction which was overwhelmingly rejected.

The time has come for the Muslim world to prove that its support to the Palestinians is not merely lip-service. A billion euros is a trivial amount for many of the oil-rich Arab countries.
They must rise to the occasion, come forward and step-in to help and aid the suffering Palestinian people to thwart the western world’s open blackmail.

Moreover, the simultaneous EU-US bullying against the Palestinians should open the eyes of the Muslims and Arabs to the reality that the two western entities have identical goals and policies in the Muslim world--namely to stop and suppress the real and genuine democratization process in the region. They are two sides of the same coin.

Word	Meaning (Farsi)	Syn./Ant.	Derivations
Contradiction	تناقض	Syn:Opposition, Inconsistency
Slogan	شعار	Syn:Motto
Bloc	مانع، مسدود کردن
Ulterior	در درجه دوم اهمیت	Syn:Further
Caretaker	موقت		V:Caretake N:Caretaking
Overwhelmingly	مقاومت ناپذیرانه		V:Overwhelm Adj:Overwhelm N:Overwhelmingness
Thwart	خنثی کردن، مخالفت کردن	Syn:Frustrate, Contravene	Adv:Thwartly N:Thwart Adj:Thwart
Blackmail	تهدید	Syn:Threat	N:Blackmailer
Bully	تحکیم کردن	Syn:Intimidate	N:Bully Adj:Bully
Democratization	به صورت دموکراسی درآمدن		V:Democratize or Democratise N:Democratizer

دموکراسی طاقت فرسا

کمیته بشر دوستی اروپا در پایگاه اینتر نتی خود اعلام می کند که قصد ما این است که کمک ها را بدون در نظر گرفتن نژاد، مذهب و یا حکومت سیاسی به طور مستقیم به افراد نیازمند و رنجدیده برسانیم. همچنین ادعا کرده است که مردم در اولویت هستند.

اما تصمیمی که اخیراً از سوی این کمیته اروپایی که بازوی اجرایی اتحادیه ی اروپا است، اتخاذ شده است و مبنی بر شک وتردید نسبت به کمک به مقامات فلسطینی می باشد، تناقض آشکاری بر همه ی ادعاهای دهان پر کن اتحادیه ی اروپاست.

حرکت جبهه ی سیاسی اروپا، این پیام ناخوشایند را برای جهانیان در بر دارد که کمک های انسان دوستانه، با منافع سیاسی و انگیزه های پنهانی ارتباط تنگاتنگ دارد.

ایالات متحده نیز اعلام کرد که در کمک به دولت تحت رهبری حماس تردید دارد.

نه تنها رهبران فلسطینی بلکه رهبران سازمان های غیر دولتی غربی نیز این حرکت را در واقع تحریم حرکت مردم فلسطین در انتخاب جنبش ایلامی حماس برای تشکیل دولت جدید در فلسطین است، محکوم کرده اند.

رئیس جمهور فلسطین، محمود عباس گفت که فلسطینیان نباسیتی به خاطر انتخاب دموکراسی برای کشور خود تنبیه شوند. نخست وزیر این کشور، اسماعیل هنیه از مردم جهان خواست تا برای انتخاب ملت مظلوم فلسطین احترام قائل شوند.

سازمان کمک های بین المللی «اکسفام» اعلام کرد که «صرف نظر از چنین سیاست هایی، این مردم عادی هستند که از پیامدهای آ« رنج می برند. قطع مکم ها در حال حاضر، مؤسسات ضعیف داخلی را سست تر خواهد کرد و تنها عامه ی مردم را آزار خواهد داد.»

این کمیته ی اروپایی یکی از بزرگترین حامیان کمک های انسان دوستانه به مردم فلسطین است و به دنبال وقوع انتخابات فلسطین در روز 25 ژانویه کمکی بالغ بر 20 میلیون یورو را در ماه فوریه برای کمک به دولت موقت فلسطین تصویب کرده است.

این کمک در حال حاضر در دست اجرا است.

اتحادیه ی اروپا نیز همچون ایلات متحده، حماس را تحت فشار قرار داده است تا اسرائیل را به رسمیت بشناسد و تلاش های مسلحانه برای آزاد سازی فلسطین اشغالی را کنار بگذارد . همه ی معاهده های گذشته ای که توسط مجلس غیر دینی تحت رهبری فاتح تنظیم شده بود را بپذیرد.

با این حال فلسطینیان حماس را بر اساس خط مشی های آن برگزیده اند که با خط مشی های فاتح متفاوت می باشد.

بنابراین، نه تنها منطقی نیست بلکه نوعی عقب نشینی خواهد بود چنانچه حماس سیاست های خود را که بر اساس آنها در انتخابات پیروز شده است، به منظور سازگاری با جهت گیری فاتح که عمیقاً مورد مخالفت واقع شد، کنار بگذارد.

وقت آن رسیده که جهان اسلام نشان دهد که حمایت او از فلسطین تنها یک شعار ظاهری نیست. یک میلیارد یورو برای بسیاری از کشورهای عربی نفت خیز و ثروتمند خیلی ناچیز است.

آنها باید در این موقعیت برخیزند، در صحنه حضور پیدا کنند و برای کمک به مردم ستمدیده ی فلسطین قدمی بردارند و به آنها کمک کنند تا جلوی تهدیدات آشکار جهان غرب را بگیرند.

به علاوه تهدیدات همزمان آمریکا و اروپا علیه مردم فلسطین بایستی چشم های مسلمانان و اعراب را به روی این حقیقت بگشاید که این دو کشور غربی اهداف و سیاست های یکسان را در جهان اسلام جستجو می کنند. برای مثال توقف و سرکوبی روند حقیقی و صادقانه برقراری دموکراسی در منطقه. اینها دو روی یک سکه هستند.

Dashed Hopes

By Mohammad Hosseini

Egypt’s ’State of Emergency’ that is normally extended every three years, was once again endorsed by the parliament upon the request of Prime Minister Ahmed Nazif.
Although some Egyptian officials insist the duration of this law this time around will be two years, it seems the quarter-century ruling will remain in force for an unlimited period. The terrorist incidents of last week in the tourist resort of Dahab in the Red Sea and the sectarian clashes in Alexandria seem to be the driving force behind the government’s push for again extending the highly controversial emergency rule.

This is while opponents of the pro-western government had warned earlier it should not use the Dahab attack as another pretext to continue the draconian measures valid under emergency rule.

The emergency was declared soon after the assassination of former President Anwar Sadat in 1981. Prior to this, Gamal Abdel Nasser, a former president, declared emergency in 1967 during the Six-Day War.

The state of emergency gives special powers to the government and security organizations to ’keep the law.’ But the Islamic and secular opposition has routinely condemned it as a facade to stifle freedoms and democratic norms by the government of President Hosni Mubarak, a former general.

Based on emergency laws, the police and security forces are allowed to detain suspects and hold them in custody for an unlimited period without the need for due process of law.
Activities of opposition political groups are banned and public rallies are taboo. Despite the restrictions, the opposition in recent months, especially before last year’s national elections, could express its views a bit more freely and also challenged government policies on key issues.

However, now it is clear that the so-called open atmosphere was designed primarily to encourage the people to come out and vote in the presidential and parliamentary elections. During this period, the opposition was allowed to speak its mind and demanded a permanent end to the emergency to open the way for meaningful political reforms.
Opponents of the regime and human rights groups have long held the view that the emergency is a security tool used terribly well to keep them in check and save Mubarak unwanted problems.

Meanwhile, the persecution of two prominent Egyptian judges who claimed that the parliamentary election was rigged has emerged as a major crisis. The controversy surrounding the case has reached such proportions that major human rights institutions have expressed serious concern over the independence and integrity of the judicial process in the most powerful Arab country.

In the parliamentary elections, candidates of the main opposition party, the Muslim Brotherhood had a neck-to-neck competition with the nominees of the ruling party. The fact that the powerful but banned Brotherhood whose candidates contested the race as independents, garnered 20 percent of the parliamentary seats sounded the alarm for Mubarak and his backers.

It is reported that in many electoral districts the ruling party resorted to intimidation and violence to block the victory of the Brotherhood - one of the oldest political parties in the Arab world with a huge following.

At the time when the overall international climate has been changing rapidly, the Egyptian opposition expects the incumbent government pursue a softer attitude toward their demands for freedom, democracy and political accountability.

Extending the emergency has enfeebled the hopes of the opposition and disillusioned Egypt’s friends in the volatile region and beyond.

Word

Meaning (Farsi)

Syn./Ant.

Derivations

Endorse

امضا کردن، تصدیق کردن

Syn:Sign, Approve

Façade

Norms

هنجارها

Detain

توقیف کردن

Syn:Arrest, Delay

Custody

حبس

Syn:Detention

Persecution

شکنجه

Syn:Oppression, Torment, Harassment

Rig

Integrity

اتحاد

Syn:Unity

Nominee

نامزد

Syn:Candidate

Garner

انباشتن

Intimidation

ارعاب

Incumbent

متصدی، ناگزیر

Pursue

پیگیری کردن

Enfeeble

بر باد دادن

Disillusion

از خواب غفلت بیدار کردن

امیدهای برباد رفته

وظایف فوق العاده که به طور طبیعی هر سه سال یک بار در مصر تمدید می شوند، بار دیگر بنا به درخواست نخست وزیر این کشور، احمد، نظیف توسط مجلس حمایت و تمدید شد.

اگرچه برخی دولتمردان مصر تأکید می ورزند که این قانون این بار به مدت دو سال بر سر کار خواهد بود، ظاهراً این قانئن که طی ربع قرن در جریان بوده است، برای دوره ای نامحدود در قدرت باقی خواهد ماند. وقایع تروریستی هفته ی گذشته در مناطق توریستی دهب در دریای سرخ و برخورد های فرقه ای در الکساندریا، در ظاهر نیروی محرکی است که در پس تلاش دولت برای برقراری مجدد این حالت فوق العده بحث انگیز باشد.

این در حالی است که مخالفان این دولت غرب گرا، پیش تر هشدار داده اند که مصر، حملات دهب را نباید بهانه ی دیگری برای ادامه ی این اقدامات شدی که طبق این قانون مجاز شمرده می شود، قرار دهد.

این حالت فوق العاده بلافاصله پس از ترئر رئیس جمهور پیشین، انور السادات، در سال 1981 اعلام گردید. پیش از این، رئیس جمهور سابق، جمال عبد الناصر هم این وضعیت را در سال 1967 در طول جنگ 6 روزه اعلام کرده بود.

حالت فوق العاده، نیروی خاصی را به منظور حفظ این قانون به دولت و سازمانهای دولتی می دهد (از آنها حمایت می کند.) اما این مخالفان اسلامی و غیر مذهبی، بنا به عادت آن را به عنوان صورت ظاهری سرکوب آزادی ها و هنجارهای دموکراتیک از سوی دولت ژنرال پیشین، رئیس جمهور حسنی مبارک، محکوم کرد.

پلیس و نیروهای امنیتی، بر اساس این قوانین فوق العاده، مجاز هستند افراد مظنون را بازداشت و تا مدتی نامحدود و بدن نیاز به اتمام فرایند قانونی در باز داشتگاه نگه دارند.

فعالیت گروه های سیاسی مخالف ، منع شده و از گردهایی های عمومی جلوگیری به عمل آمده است. علی رغم این محدودیت ها، این مخالفان، در ماههای اخیر به ویژه قبل از انتخابات ملی سال گذشته، توانست دیدگاه های خود را خیلی آزادانه تر بیان کنند و سیاست های دولت را مورد مسائل کلیدی مورد بحث و جدل قرار دهند.

با این حال، روشن است که این فضای به اصطلاح باز در ابتدا به منظور تشویق مردم به شرکت در انتخابات ریاست جمهوری و مجلس ایجاد شده بود. در طی این دوره، به مخالفان اجازه ی بیان افکار و عقاید داشته شد و خواستار برچیده شدن دائمی این وضعیت فوف العاده شدند تا راهی را برای اصلاحات سیاسی سودمند باز کنند.

مخالفان این رژیم و گروه های طرفدار حقوق انسان، مدتهاس بر این عقیده اند که حالت فوق العاده، یک ابزار امنیتی است که به خوبی در جهت کنترل وحل مشکلات ناخواسته ی مبارک مورد استفاده قرار گرفته است.

در این حین، دستگیری دو تن از قضات صاحب نام مصری که ادعا کرده اند در انتخابات پارلمان تقلب شده است، نیز بحران گسترده ای را ایجاد کرده است. بحث و جدل در این خصوص به حدی رسیده است که اکثریت سازمانهای طرفدار حقوق بشر، در مورد استقلال و شرف فرآیند قضاوت در این کشور قدرتمند عربی اظهار نگرانی کرده اند.

در انتخابات پارلمان، نامزدهای گروه مخالف اصلی، اخوان المسلمین، رقابت تنگاتنگی با نامزدهای گروه حاکم داشتند. این حقیقت که گروه قدرتمند اما منع شده ی اخوان که به صورت مستقل در انتخابات شرکت کرده اند، 20 درصد از کرسی های پارلمان را به دست آورده اند، زنگ خطری برای مبارک و طرفداران او خواهد بود.

گزارش شده است که در بسیاری از حوزه های انتخاباتی، گروه حاکم برای جلوگیری از پیروزی اخوان –یکی از قدیمیترین گروه ساسی پرطرفدار عرب- به تهدید و خشونت متوسل شده است. در موقعیت کنونی، که جو کلی بین المللی به سرعت در حال تغییر است، مخالفان مصر از دولت حاضر انتظار دارند که موضع انعطاف پذیرانه تری نسبت به تقاضای آنها نسبت به دستیابی به آزادی، دموکراسی و مسئولیت پذیری سیاسی اتخاذ کند.

تمدید وضعیت فوق العاده، امید های مخالفان مصر را بر باد داده و دوستان دولت مصر را در این ناحیه ی بی ثبات و فراتر از آن از خواب غفلت بیدار کرده است.

ضرب‌المثل‌هاي انگليسي English Proverbs

A

• "A poor workman blames his tools."

• ترجمه: «کارگر بي‌مهارت، ابزار کارش را مقصر مي‌داند.»
o متراف فارسي: «عروس نمي‌توانست برقصد، مي‌گفت زمين ناهموار است.»

• "A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush."

• ترجمه«يک پرنده‌ در دست، بهتر از دوتا روي درخت است.»
o مترادف فارسي: «سرکه نقد به از حلواي نسيه.»

• "Absence makes the heart grow fonder."

• ترجمه: «دوري باعث علاقمندي مي شود.»
o مترادف فارسي: «دوري و دوستي.»

• "A cat may look at a king."

• ترجمه: «شايد که گربه به شاهي نظر کند.»
o مترادف فارسي: «به اسب شاه گفته يابو.»

• "A chain is no stronger than its weakest link."

• ترجمه: «استحکام زنجير به اندازه ضعيف‌ترين حلقه آن است.» ويليام شکسپير در نمايش‌نامه ژوليوس سزار

• "A coward dies a thousand times before his death. The valiant never taste of death but once."

• ترجمه: «ترسو هزاربار پيش از مرگ مي‌ميرد. آدم نترس فقط يکبار مزه مرگ را مي‌چشد.»
o مترادف فارسي: «ترس برادر مرگ است.»
o مترادف فارسي: «ترسو مرد!»

• "A creaking door hangs longest." and "A creaking gate hangs long."

• ترجمه: «دري که غژغژ مي‌کند عمرش بيشتر است.»

• "Actions speak louder than words."

• ترجمه: «صداي عمل رساتر از حرف است.»
o مترادف فارسي: «به عمل کار برآيد به سخنداني نيست.»

• "Advice when most needed is least heeded."

• ترجمه: «هرجا که پند و اندرز لازم آيد، کمتر گوش شنوا است»

• "A fool and his money are easily parted."

• ترجمه: «احمق و پولش به راحتي از هم جداشدني هستند»

• "A fox smells its own lair first." and " A fox smells its own stink first."

• ترجمه: «روباه بوي گندش را زودتر از ديگران استشمام مي‌کند»
o مترادف فارسي: «چوب را که بلند کني، گربه دزده فرار مي‌کند»

• "A friend in need is a friend indeed."

• ترجمه: «به هنگام نياز، دوست واقعي شناخته مي‌شود.»
o مترادف فارسي: «دوست آن باشد که گيرد دست دوست// در پريشان‌حالي و درماندگي»

• "After a storm comes a calm."

• ترجمه: «پس از طوفان، آرامش گسترده مي‌گردد.»
o مشابه فارسي: «بعد از خشم پشيماني است»

• "After dinner sit a while, after supper walk a mile."

• ترجمه: «بعد از نهار کمي استراحت کنيد، بعد از شام يک کيلومتر راه برويد.»

• "A good beginning makes a good ending."

• ترجمه: «يک شروع خوب، پايان خوبي در پي دارد.»
o خلاف فارسي: «خشت اول چون نهد معمار کج// تا ثريا مي رود ديوار کج» مولوي

• "A good man in an evil society seems the greatest villain of all."

• ترجمه: «انسان نيک در جمع اشرار، شريرترين آن‌ها به نظر مي‌رسد.»

• "A good surgeon has an eagle's eye, a lion's heart, and a lady's hand."

• ترجمه: «يک جراح خوب داراي چشمي همانند عقاب، دلي مثل شير و دستي زنانه است.»

• "A guilty conscience needs no accuser."

• ترجمه: «يک وجدان گناه‌کار به سرزنش ديگران محتاج نيست»

• "A jack of all trades is master of none."

• ترجمه: «کسي که همه‌کار انجام مي‌دهد استاد هيچ‌کاري نيست.»
o مترادف فارسي: « همه‌کاره و هيچ‌کاره.»

• "A lie has no legs."

• ترجمه: «دروغ پا ندارد.»
o مترادف فارسي: «دروغگو تا در خانه‌اش.»

• "A lie can be halfway around the world before the truth gets its boots on."

• ترجمه: «حقيقت تا چکمه‌هايش را بپوشد، دروغ نيمي از جهان را دور زده است.» منسوب به وينستون چرچيل

• "A little knowledge is a dangerous thing."

• ترجمه: «دانش ناقص خطرناک است.»
o مترادف فارسي: «نيم‌طبيب خطر جان، نيم‌فقيه خطر ايمان»
o تمثيل: «دوکس دشمن ملک و دينند يکي پادشاه بي حلم و ديگري زاهد بي علم» سعدي
o تمثيل: «آن‌که نداند رقمي بهر نام// به زفقيهي که بود ناتمام» امير خسرو

• "A merry heart makes a long life."

• ترجمه: «دل‌شاد بودن، عمر انسان را طولاني مي‌کند.»

• A miss by an inch is a miss by a mile.

• ترجمه: «لغزش در عمل چه يک اينچ، چه يک مايل.»
• مترادف فارسي:"آب که از سر گذشت چه يک وجب چه صد وجب"

• "A penny saved is a penny earned." منسوب به فرانکلين

• ترجمه: «هر پول سياهي که پس‌انداز شود، سودي است که کسب شده است.»
o مترادف: «قطره قطره است وانگهي دريا»

• "A person is known by the company he keeps."

• ترجمه: «شخص به اطرافيانش شناخته مي شود»
o مترادف فارسي: «تو اول بگو با کيان دوستي// پس‌آنگه بگويم که تو کيستي» سعدي

• "A picture is worth a thousand words."

• ترجمه: «تصوير از هزاران جمله گوياتر است»
• مترادف فارسي:"زليخا گفتن و يوسف شنيدن__شنيدن کي بود مانند ديدن"

• "A pot of milk is ruined by a drop of poison."

• ترجمه: «يک باديه پر از شير به قطره‌اي زهر، فاسد مي‌گردد»

• "A rolling stone gathers no moss."

• ترجمه: «بر سنگ غلطان سبزه نرويد»
o مترادف فارسي: «که بر سنگ گردان نرويد نبات» سعدي

• "A sound mind in a sound body."

• ترجمه: «مغز سالم در بدن سالم»

o اصل لاتيني: «mens sana in corpore sano»

o مترادف فارسي: «عقل سالم در بدن سالم است»

• منسوب به بنيامين فرانکلين "A stitch in time saves nine."

• ترجمه: «يک ضربه بموقع، باعث صرفه‌جويي در نه ضربه ديگر است»
•
o مترادف فارسي: «يک ضربه کاري از ضربات بعدي جلوگيري مي‌کند»

• "All cats love fish but hate to get their paws wet."

• ترجمه: «هر گربه‌اي ماهي را دوست دارد اما از اينکه پنجولش خيس شود بيزار است»

• "All flowers are not in one garland."

• ترجمه: «هيچ گلستاني تمام انواع گل‌ها را ندارد»
o مترادف فارسي: «گل بي‌علت و بي‌عيب خداست» پروين اعتصامي

• "All frills and no knickers."

• ترجمه: «زينت فراوان، بدون شلوار»
o مترادف فارسي: «هرچه داره به بر داره، به خونه دست خر داره»

• "All good things come to an end."

• ترجمه: «هرچيز خوبي به پايان مي‌رسد»

• "All hat and no cattle"

• ترجمه: همه کلاه است، پيش‌بند وجود ندارد»
o مترادف فارسي: «همه من هستند، هيچ‌کس نيم‌من نيست»

• "All roads lead to Rome."

• ترجمه: «همه راه‌ها به رم راه‌برند»
o مترادف فارسي: «همه راه‌ها به رم ختم مي‌شوند»

• "All's fair in love and war."

• ترجمه: «عدالت در دوستي و جنگ»

• "All's well that ends well."

• ترجمه: «همه‌چيز خوب، پايانش نيز خوب»
o متضاد فارسي: «خشت اول چون نهد معمار کج// تا ثريا مي‌رود ديوار کج» مولوي

• "All that glisters is not gold."

• ترجمه: «هرچه مي‌درخشد طلا نيست»
o مترادف فارسي: «هرچه مي‌درخشد طلا نيست»
o مترادف فارسي: «هر گردي گردو نيست»

• "All things come to he who waits."

• ترجمه: «هرکه صبر کند به همه چيز مي‌رسد»
o مترادف فارسي: «گر صبر کني ز غوره حلوا سازي»

• "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy."

• ترجمه: «هم‌اش کار بدون سرگرمي، جک را به بچه‌اي خل تبديل مي‌کند»

• "An apple a day keeps the doctor away."

• ترجمه: «يک‌عدد سيب در روز، دکتر را دور نگه‌مي‌دارد»

• "An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth."

• ترجمه: «چشم براي چشم و دندان براي دندان» انجيل عهد عتيق
o مترادف: «چشم در عوض چشم و دندان در عوض دندان»

• "Another man's poison is not necessarily yours."

• ترجمه: «سم ديگران نبايد الزامأ براي تو باشد»

o مترادف لاتيني: "One man's medicine is another man's poison."

o ترجمه: (داروي يکي، کشنده ديگري است)

• "An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure."

• ترجمه: «يک اونس پيش‌گيري بهتر از يک پاوند مداوا است»
o مترادف فارسي: «چرم را تا سگ نبرده بايد حفظ کرد»
o مترادف فارسي: «گوشت را نبايد دم چنگ گربه گذاشت»

• "April showers bring May flowers."

• ترجمه: «رگبار آوريل، باعث فراواني گل در ماه مه است»

• "Ask and you shall receive."

• ترجمه: «سؤال کن تا بيابي»
o مترادف فارسي: «پرسان پرسان مي‌روند هنوستان»

• "Ask me no questions, I'll tell you no lies."

• ترجمه: «از من نپرس تا به تو دروغ نگويم»

• "Ask no questions and hear no lies."

• ترجمه: «نپرس تا دروغ نشنوي»

• "As you make your bed, so you must lie in it."

• ترجمه: «رختخوابت را که پهن کردي بايد در آن هم بخوابي»
o مترادف فارسي: «آش کشک خالته، بخوري پاته نخوري پاته»
o مشابه فارسي: «خودکرده را تدبير نيست»

• "As you sow, so shall you reap."

• ترجمه: «چوکاشتي بايد بدروي»
o مترادف فارسي: «چو جو کاشتي، جو حاصل آيد»
o مترادف فارسي: «هرچه بکاري تو، همان بدروي»

• "A watched kettle (pot) never boils."

• ترجمه: «کتري که موظب‌اش باشي هرگز نمي‌جوشد»
o مشابه فارسي: «اگر خودم بالاي سرش بودم پسر مي‌زاييد»

• "A woman's work is never done."

• ترجمه: «کار زن پايان‌پذير نيست»

o بيتي از شعر: "A man may work from sun to sun, but a woman's work is never done"

o ترجمه: (مرد اگر از طلوع تا به غروب در تلاش معاش دل‌بنداست// زن هميشه به کار ِخانه خويش چست و چالاک در جهداست»
o مترادف فارسي: «کار کدبانو (کار منزل) تمام‌شدني نيست»

• "A woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle."

• ترجمه: «يک زن به مرد همان‌قدر محتاج است که يک ماهي به دوچرخه» (طنز)

• "A word to the wise is enough" (or "sufficient.")

• ترجمه: «کلمه‌اي به دانا کفايت کند»

o اصل لاتيني: «Verbum sapienti saepet.»

o مترادف فارسي: «در خانه اگر کس است يک حرف بس است»

• "A word spoken is past recalling."

• ترجمه: «جمله‌اي که گفته شد قابل بازگشت نيست»
o متراف فارسي: «تيري که رها شد به چله باز نگردد»

B

• "Barking dogs seldom bite."

• ترجمه: «سگي که پارس مي‌کند، به ندرت گاز مي‌گيرد»
o مترادف فارسي: «سگ لاينده، گيرنده نباشد»

• "Be careful what you wish for, you might just get it."

• ترجمه: «چيزي را که براي ديگران آرزو مي‌کني ممکن است نصيب خودت شود»

• "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder."

• ترجمه: «زيبايي در چشم بيننده است»
o مترادف فارسي: «علف به دهن بزي شيرين است»

• "Beauty is only skin deep, but ugly goes straight to the bone."

• ترجمه: «زيبايي سطحي است اما زشتي تا استخوان نفوذ مي‌کند»

• "Beauty may open doors but only virtue enters."

• ترجمه: «زيبايي درهاي بسته را مي‌گشايد اما فقط پرهيزگاران داخل مي‌شوند»

• "Beer before liquor, you'll never be sicker, but liquor before beer and you're in the clear."

• ترجمه: «آبجو پيش از ليکور سالم نيست، اما ليکور پيش از آبجو سرحال‌آورنده است»

• "Beggars can't be choosers."

• ترجمه: «گدا، انتخاب‌کننده نيست»

• "Better be alone than in bad company."

• ترجمه: «تنهايي بهتر از بودن در جمع دوستان بد است»
o مترادف فارسي: «دلا خو کن به تنهايي که از تن‌ها بلا خيزد»

• "Better to be thought a fool, than to open your mouth and remove all doubt."

• ترجمه: «اگر به نظر ابله آيي، بهتر از آن است که دهانت را باز کني و بلاهتت ثابت شود»

• "Better late than never."

• ترجمه: «تأخير داشتن بهتر از هرگز نرسيدن است»
o مترادف فارسي: «دير رسيدن بهتر از هرگز نرسيدن است»

• "Better safe than sorry."

• ترجمه: «ايمني بهتر از تأسف است»
o مترادف فارسي: «علاج واقعه قبل از وقوع بايد كرد// دريغ سود ندارد چو رفت كار از دست» سعدي

• "Better the devil you know than the devil you don't."

• ترجمه: «ابليس آشنا بهتر از ناآشنا است»

• "Birds of a feather flock together."

• ترجمه: «پرندگان همجنس با هم پرواز مي‌کنند»
o مترادف فارسي: «کبوتر با کبوتر، باز با باز// کند هم‌جنس با هم‌جنس پرواز»

• "Bitter pills may have blessed effects."

• ترجمه: «داروي تلخ شفابخش‌تر است»

• "Blood is thicker than water."

• ترجمه: «خون از آب غليظ‌تر است»
o مترادف فارسي: «اول خويش، سپس درويش»

• "Blood will out." (This has a parallel in Chaucer: Murder will out.)

• ترجمه: «خون فوران خواهد کرد» بر اساس نقل‌قولي از شاسر: قتل برملا خواهد شد»

• "Boys will be boys." A Latin proverb

• ترجمه: «پسربچه، مي‌خواهد پسربچه باشد»

o اصل لاتيني: «Sunt pueri pueri, pueri puerilia»

o ترجمه: «پسربچه، پسربچه است و مي‌خواهد بازي‌هاي پسرانه کند»

• "Brain is better than brawn."

• ترجمه: «عقل، بهتر از زور بازو است»

• "Bread is the staff of life."

• ترجمه: «نان، قوت زندگي است»

• "Breakfast like a king, lunch like a prince, dine like a pauper."

• ترجمه: «صبحانه مانند يک شاه، نهار مثل يک شاهزاده، شام مثل يک فقير»
o مترادف فارسي: «صبحانه را تنها، ناهار را با دوستان و شام را با دشمنت صرف کن»

• "Butter is gold in the morning, silver at noon, lead at night."

• ترجمه: «کره در صبح مانند طلا، در ظهر مانند نقره، در شب مثل سرب است»

C

• "Chance favors the prepared mind."

• ترجمه: «بخت به ياري انديشه‌هاي پيشرو وارد ميدان مي‌شود.» لويي پاستور

• "Cider on beer, never fear; beer upon cider, makes a bad rider."

• ترجمه: «از نوشيدن شراب سيب روي آبجو هرگز نترس؛ اما نوشيدن آبجو روي شراب سيب سوارکار بدي از تو مي‌سازد.»

• "Close but no cigar."

• ترجمه: «نزديک بود، اما سيگار را نبردي.»

• "Close only counts in horseshoes and hand-grenades."

• "Clothes make(th) the man."

• ترجمه: «احترام مرد به لباس است.»
o مترادف فارسي: «آستين نو پلو بخور!»

• "Clothes don't make the man."

• ترجمه: «احترام مرد به لباس نيست.»
o مترادف فارسي: «آدم را به جامه نشناسند»
o تمثيل: «لباس طريقت به تقوا بود// نه در جبه و دلق و خضرا بود»
o تمثيل: «تن آدمي شريف است به جان آدميت// نه همين لباس زيباست نشان آدميت» سعدي

• "Common sense ain't common."

• ترجمه: «همه‌گان از شعور برخوردار نيستند.» ولتر

• "Cowards die many times, but a brave man only dies once."

• ترجمه: «آدم ترسو چندين بار مي‌ميرد، اما آدم شجاع فقط يکبار.»
o مترادف فارسي: «ترسو مرد»
o مترادف فارسي: «ترس برادر مرگ است»

• "Cross the stream where it is the shallowest."

• ترجمه: «از کم‌عمق‌ترين محل رودخانه گذر کن!»
o مترادف فارسي: «بي‌گدار به آب نزن!»

• "Curiosity killed the cat. Satisfaction brought it back"

• ترجمه: «کنجکاوي باعث مرگ گربه است، رضامندي زندگي دوباره به او مي‌بخشد.»

• "Cut your coat according to your cloth."

• ترجمه: «جامه خود را به اندازه پارچه‌ات بدوز!»
o مترادف فارسي: «پا را به اندازه گليم خود دراز کن!»

صبح است. هنوز ساعت هفت نشده اما دكه ي ماكار كوزميچ بلستكين سلماني ، باز است. صاحب دكه ، جوانكي 23 ساله ، با سر و روي ناشسته و كثيف ، و در همان حال ، با جامه اي شيك و پيك ، سرگرم مرتب كردن دكه است. گرچه در واقع چيزي براي مرتب كردن وجود ندارد با اينهمه ، سر و روي او از زوري كه ميزند ، غرق عرق است. به اينجا كهنه اي ميكشد ، به آنجا انگشتي ميمالد ، در گوشه اي ديگر ساسي را به ضرب تلنگر از روي ديوار ، بر زمين سرنگون ميكند.
دكه اش تنگ و كوچك و كثيف است. به ديوارهاي چوبي ناهموارش ، پارچه ي ديواري كوبيده شده ــ پارچه اي كه انسان را به ياد پيراهن نخ نما و رنگ رفته ي سورچي ها مي اندازد. بين دو پنجره ي تار و گريه آور دكه ، دري تنگ و باريك و غژغژو و فرسوده ، و بالاي آن زنگوله ي سبز زنگ زده اي ديده ميشود كه گهگاه ، خودبخود و بدون هيچ دليل خاصي تكاني ميخورد و جرنگ و جرينگ بيمارگونه اي سر ميدهد. كافيست به آينه اي كه به يكي از ديوارها آويخته اند ، نيم نگاهي بيفكنيد تا قيافه تان به گونه اي ترحم انگيز ، پخش و پلا و كج و معوج شود. در برابر همين آينه است كه ريش مشتريها را ميتراشد و سرشان را اصلاح ميكند. روي ميز كوچكي كه به اندازه ي خود ماكار كوزميچ چرب و كثيف است همه چيز يافت ميشود: شانه هاي گوناگون ، چند تا قيچي و تيغ و آبفشان صناري ، يك قوطي پودر صناري ، ادوكلن بي بو و خاصيت صناري. تازه خود دكه هم بيش از چند تا صناري نمي ارزد.
جيغ زنگوله اي كه بالاي در است ، طنين افكن ميشود و مردي مسن با پالتو كوتاه پشت و رو شده و چكمه هاي نمدي ، وارد دكه ميشود ؛ شال زنانه اي به دور سر و گردن خود پيچيده است.
او ، اراست ايوانيچ ياگودف ، پدر تعميدي ماكار كوزميچ است. روزگاري دربان كليسا بود اما اكنون در حوالي محله ي « درياچه ي سرخ » سكونت دارد و آهنگري ميكند. اراست ايوانيچ خطاب به ماكار كوزميچ كه هنوز هم گرم جمع و جور كردن دكه است ، ميگويد:
ــ سلام ماكار جان ، نور چشمم!
روبوسي ميكنند. پدر تعميدي ، شال را از دور سر و گردن باز ميكند ، صليبي بر سينه رسم ميكند ، مي نشيند و سرفه كنان مگويد:
ــ تا دكانت خيلي راه است پسرم! مگر شوخي ست؟ از درياچه ي سرخ تا دروازه كالوژ سكايا!
ــ خوش آمديد! حال و احوالتان چطور است؟
ــ مريض احوالم برادر! تب داشتم.
ــ تب؟ انشاالله بلا دور است.
ــ آره ، تب داشتم. يك ماه آزگار ، توي رختخواب افتاده بودم ؛ گمان ميكردم دارم غزل خداحافظي را ميخوانم. حالم آنقدر بد بود كه كشيش بالاي سرم آوردند. ولي حالا كه شكر خدا ، حالم يك ذره بهتر شده ، موي سرم ميريزد. رفتم پيش دكتر ، دستور داد موهام را از ته بتراشم. ميگفت موي تازه اي كه بعد از تراشيدن سر در مي آد ، ريشه اش قويتر ميشود. نشستم و با خودم گفتم: خوبست سراغ ماكار خودمان برم. هر چه باشد ، قوم و خويش آدم ، بهتر از غريبه هاست ــ هم بهتر ميتراشد ، هم پول نميگيرد. درست است كه دكانت خيلي دور است ولي چه اشكالي دارد؟ خودش يك جور گشت و گذار است.
ــ با كمال ميل. بفرماييد!
ماكار ، پاكشان خش خش راه مي اندازد و با دستش به صندلي اشاره ميكند. ياگودف ميرود روي صندلي مي نشيند ، به قيافه ي خود در آينه خيره ميشود و از منظره اي كه مي بيند خشنود ميشود: پوزه اي كج و كوله ، با لبهاي زمخت و بيني پت و پهن ، و چشمهاي به پيشاني جسته. ماكار كوزميچ ملافه ي سفيدي را كه آغشته به لكه هاي زرد رنگ است ، روي شانه هاي او مي اندازد ، قيچي را چك چك به صدا در مي آورد و ميگويد:
ــ از ته ميتراشم ، پاكتراش!
ــ البته! طوري بتراش كه شبيه تاتارها شوم ، شبيه يك بمب! بجاش موي پرپشت در مي آد.
ــ راستي خاله جان حالشان چطور است؟
ــ زنده است ، شكر. همين چند روز پيش ، رفته بودش خدمت خانم سرگرد. يك روبل به اش مرحمت كردند.
ــ كه اينطور … يك روبل … بي زحمت گوش تان را بگيريد و اين جوري نگاهش داريد.
ــ دارمش … مواظب باش زخم و زيليش نكني. يواش تر ، اين جوري دردم مي آد! داري موهام را ميكشي.
ــ مهم نيست. پيش مي آد! راستي حال آنا اراستونا چطور است؟
ــ دخترم را ميگويي؟ بدك نيست ، براي خودش خوش است. همين چهارشنبه اي كه گذشت ، نامزدش كرديم. راستي تو چرا نيامدي؟
صداي قيچي قطع ميشود. ماكار كوزميچ بازوان خود را فرو مي آويزد و وحشت زده مي پرسد:
ــ كي را نامزد كرديد؟
ــ معلوم است ، آنا را.
ــ يعني چه؟ چطور ممكن است؟ با كي؟
ــ پروكوفي پترويچ شييكين. همان كه عمه اش در كوچه ي زلاتوئوستنسكي سرآشپز است. زن خوبي ست! همه مان از نامزد آنا خوشحاليم … هفته ي آينده هم عروسي شان را راه مي ندازيم. تو هم بيا ، خوش ميگذرد.
ماكار كوزميچ ، مبهوت و رنگپريده ، شانه هاي خود را بالا مي اندازد و ميگويد:
ــ چطور ممكن است اين كار را كرده باشيد؟ آخر چرا؟ اين … غير ممكن است ، اراست ايوانيچ! آخر آنا اراستونا … آخر من … من مي خواستمش … قصد داشتم بگيرمش! آخر چطور ممكن است؟ …
ــ چطور ندارد! كرديم و شد! آقا داماد ، مرد خوبي ست.
قطره هاي درشت عرق سرد ، چهره ي ماكار كوزميچ را خيس ميكند ؛ قيچي را كنار ميگذارد ، مشتش را به بيني ميمالد و ميگويد:
ــ من كه ميخواستم … اين ، غير ممكن است ، اراست ايوانيچ! من … من عاشقش بودم … به اش قول داده بودم بگيرمش … خاله جان هم موافق بودند … شما هميشه در حكم پدرم بوديد ، به اندازه ي مرحوم ابوي ، به شما احترام ميگذاشتم … هميشه مجاني اصلاحتان ميكردم … هميشه از من پول دستي ميگرفتيد … وقتي آقاجانم مرحوم شد شما كاناپه ي ما را برداشتيد و ده روبل پول نقد هم از من قرض گرفتيد و هيچ وقت هم پسش نداديد. يادتان هست؟
ــ چطور ممكن است يادم نباشد؟ البته كه يادم هست! ولي خودمانيم ماكار جان ، از تو كه داماد در نمي آد! نه پول داري ، نه اسم و رسم ؛ تازه شغلت هم چنگي به دل نميزند …
ــ ببينم ، مگر شييكين پولدار است؟
ــ در شركت تعاوني كار ميكند … هزار و پانصد روبل سپرده دارد … آره ، برادر … وانگهي حالا ديگر اين حرفها فايده ندارد … كار از كار گذشته … آب رفته كه به جوي بر نميگردد ، ماكار جان … خوبست زن ديگري براي خودت دست و پا كني … فقط آنا كه از آسمان نيفتاده … ببينم ، حالا چرا ماتت برده؟ چرا كارت را تمام نميكني؟
ماكار كوزميچ جواب نميدهد. بي حركت ايستاده است. بعد ، دستمالي از جيب خود در مي آورد و گريه سر ميدهد. اراست ايوانيچ ميكوشد دلداري اش بدهد:
ــ بس كن پسرم! طوري شيون ميكند كه انگار زن است! گفنم: بس كن! آرام بگير! همين كه سرم را تراشيدي ، هر چه دلت ميخواد زار بزن! حالا قيچي را بگير دستت و تمامش كن پسرم.
ماكار كوزميچ قيچي را بر مي دارد ، نگاه عاري از ادراك خود را به آن مي دوزد و پرتش ميكند روي ميز. دستهايش ميلرزد:
ــ نمي توانم! دستم به كار نمي رود! من آدم بدبختي هستم! آنا هم بدبخت است! ما همديگر را دوست داشتيم ، با هم عهد و پيمان بسته بوديم … ولي يك مشت آدم بي رحم ، از هم جدامان كردند … اراست ايوانيچ بفرماييد بيرون! چشم ندارم شما را ببينم.
ــ باشد ، ماكار جان ، فردا بر ميگردم. حالا كه امروز دستت به كار نميرود ، فردا مي آيم.
ــ بسيار خوب.
ــ امروز را آرام بگير ، من فردا صبح زودترك مي آيم.
انسان از مشاهده ي نصف كله ي از ته تراشيده ي اراست ايوانيچ ، به ياد تبعيدي ها مي افتد. خود او از اين بابت سخت شرمنده است اما چاره اي ندارد جز آنكه دندان روي جگر بگذارد. شال زنانه را دور سر و گردن خود مي پيچد و از دكه ي سلماني بيرون ميرود. و ماكار كوزميچ ، در تنهايي خويش ، همچنان اشك ميريزد.
روز بعد ، اراست ايوانيچ صبح زود به دكه ي ماكار كوزميچ مي آيد.
ماكار با لحني سرد مي پرسد:
ــ فرمايشي داريد؟
ــ ماكار جان ، آمده ام كارت را تمام كني. نصف سرم مانده …
ــ اول دستمزدم را مي گيرم ، بعد كار را تمام ميكنم. سر هيچكي را مفت و مجاني نميتراشم.
اراست ايوانيچ ، بدون اداي كلمه اي ، راه خود را ميگيرد و ميرود. تا امروز هم نصف موي سرش كوتاه و نصف ديگر ، بلند است. او ، پرداخت دستمزد به سلماني جماعت را اسراف ميداند ــ دندان روي جگر گذاشته و اميدوار است موي كوتاهش هر چه زودتر بلند شود. او ، با همان ريخت و قيافه هم در جشن عروسي دخترش ، آنا شركت كرد و خوش گذرانيد.

حدود نيمه هاي شب بود.
دميتري كولدارف ، هيجان زده و آشفته مو ، ديوانه وار به آپارتمان پدر و مادرش دويد و تمام اتاقها را با عجله زير پا گذاشت. در اين ساعت ، والدين او قصد داشتند بخوابند. خواهرش در رختخواب خود دراز كشيده و گرم خواندن آخرين صفحه ي يك رمان بود. برادران دبيرستاني اش خواب بودند.
پدر و مادرش متعجبانه پرسيدند:
ــ تا اين وقت شب كجا بودي ؟ چه ات شده ؟
ــ واي كه نپرسيد! اصلاً فكرش را نميكردم! انتظارش را نداشتم! حتي … حتي باور كردني نيست!
بلند بلند خنديد و از آنجايي كه رمق نداشت سرپا بايستد ، روي مبل نشست و ادامه داد:
ــ باور نكردني! تصورش را هم نمي توانيد بكنيد! اين هاش ، نگاش كنيد!
خواهرش از تخت به زير جست ، پتويي روي شانه هايش افكند و به طرف او رفت. برادران محصلش هم از خواب بيدار شدند.
ــ آخر چه ات شده ؟ رنگت چرا پريده ؟
ــ از بس كه خوشحالم ، مادر جان! حالا ديگر در سراسر روسيه مرا مي شناسند! سراسر روسيه! تا امروز فقط شما خبر داشتيد كه در اين دار دنيا كارمند دون پايه اي به اسم دميتري كولدارف وجود خارجي دارد! اما حالا سراسر روسيه از وجود من خبردار شده است! مادر جانم! واي خداي من!
با عجله از روي مبل بلند شد ، بار ديگر همه ي اتاقهاي آپارتمان را به زير پا كشيد و دوباره نشست.
ــ بالاخره نگفتي چه اتفاقي افتاده ؟ درست حرف بزن ؟
ــ زندگي شماها به زندگي حيوانات وحشي مي ماند ، نه روزنامه مي خوانيد ، نه از اخبار خبر داريد ، حال آنكه روزنامه ها پر از خبرهاي جالب است! تا اتفاقي مي افتد فوري چاپش ميكنند. هيچ چيزي مخفي نمي ماند! واي كه چقدر خوشبختم! خداي من! مگر غير از اين است كه روزنامه ها فقط از آدمهاي سرشناس مي نويسند؟ … ولي حالا ، راجع به من هم نوشته اند!
ــ نه بابا! ببينمش!
رنگ از صورت پدر پريد. مادر ، نگاه خود را به شمايل مقدسين دوخت و صليب بر سينه رسم كرد. برادران دبيرستاني اش از جاي خود جهيدند و با پيراهن خوابهاي كوتاه به برادر بزرگشان نزديك شدند.
ــ آره ، راجع به من نوشته اند! حالا ديگر همه ي مردم روسيه ، مرا مي شناسند! مادر جان ، اين روزنامه را مثل يك يادگاري در گوشه اي مخفي كنيد! گاهي اوقات بايد بخوانيمش. بفرماييد ، نگاش كنيد!
روزنامه اي را از جيب در آورد و آن را به دست پدر داد. آنگاه انگشت خود را به قسمتي از روزنامه كه با مداد آبي رنگ ، خطي به دور خبري كشيده بود ، فشرد و گفت:
ــ بخوانيدش!
پدر ، عينك بر چشم نهاد.
ــ معطل چي هستيد ؟ بخوانيدش!
مادر ، باز نگاه خود را به شمايل مقدسين دوخت و صليب بر سينه رسم كرد. پدر سرفه اي كرد و مشغول خواندن شد: « در تاريخ 29 دسامبر ، مقارن ساعت 23 ، دميتري كولدارف … »
ــ مي بينيد ؟ ديديد ؟ ادامه اش بدهيد!
ــ « … دميتري كولدارف كارمند دون پايه ي دولت ، هنگام خروج از مغازه ي آبجو فروشي واقع در مالايا برونا (ساختمان متعلق به آقاي كوزيخين) به علت مستي … »
ــ مي دانيد با سيمون پترويچ رفته بوديم آبجو بزنيم … مي بينيد ؟ جزء به جزء نوشته اند! ادامه اش بدهيد! ادامه!
ــ « … به علت مستي ، تعادل خود را از دست داد ، سكندري رفت و به زير پاهاي اسب سورتمه ي ايوان دروتف كه در همان محل متوقف بود ، افتاد. سورچي مذكور اهل روستاي دوريكين از توابع بخش يوخوسكي است. اسب وحشت زده از روي كارمند فوق الذكر جهيد و سورتمه را كه يكي از تجار رده ي 2 مسكو به اسم استپان لوكف سرنشين آن بود ، از روي بدن شخص مزبور ، عبور داد. اسب رميده ، بعد از طي مسافتي توسط سرايدارهاي ساختمانهاي همان خيابان ، مهار شد. كولدارف كه به حالت اغما افتاده بود ، به كلانتري منتقل گرديد و تحت معاينه ي پزشكي قرار گرفت. ضربه ي وارده به پشت گردن او … »
ــ پسِ گردنم ، پدر ، به مال بند اسب خورده بود . بخوانيدش ؛ ادامه اش بدهيد!
ــ « … به پشت گردن او ، ضربه ي سطحي تشخيص داده شده است. كمكهاي ضروري پزشكي ، بعد از تنظيم صورتمجلس و تشكيل پرونده ، در اختيار مصدوم قرار داده شد »
ــ دكتر براي پس گردنم ، كمپرس آب سرد تجويز كرد. خوانديد كه ؟ ها ؟ محشر است! حالا ديگر اين خبر در سراسر روسيه پيچيد!
آنگاه روزنامه را با عجله از دست پدرش قاپيد ، آن را چهار تا كرد و در جيب كت خود چپاند و گفت:
ــ مادر جان ، من يك تك پا مي روم تا منزل ماكارف ، بايد نشانشان داد … بعدش هم سري به ناتاليا ايوانونا و آنيسيم واسيليچ ميزنم و ميدهم آنها هم بخوانند … من رفتم! خداحافظ!
اين را گفت و كلاه نشاندار اداري را بر سر نهاد و شاد و پيروزمند ، به كوچه دويد.

زنگ در را به صدا در آوردند. نادژدا پترونا ، مالك آپارتماني كه محل وقوع داستان ماست ، شتابان از روي كاناپه بلند شد و دوان دوان به طرف در رفت. با خود ميگفت: « لابد شوهرم است … »
اما وقتي در را باز كرد ، با مردي ناآشنا روبرو شد. مردي بلند قامت و خوش قيافه ، با پالتو پوست نفيس و عينك دسته طلايي در برابرش ايستاده بود ؛ گره بر ابرو و چين بر پيشاني داشت ؛ چشمهاي خواب آلودش با نوعي بيحالي و بي اعتنايي ، به دنياي خاكي ما مينگريستند. نادژدا پرسيد:
ــ فرمايش داريد ؟
ــ من پزشك هستم خانم محترم. از طرف خانواده اي به اسم … به اسم چلوبيتيف به اينجا دعوت شده ام … شما خانم چلوبيتيف نيستيد؟
ــ چرا … خودم هستم … اما شما را به خدا آقاي دكتر … معذرت ميخواهم. شوهرم گذشته از آنكه تب داشت ، دندانش هم آپسه كرده بود. خود او خدمتتان نامه نوشته و خواهش كرده بود تشريف بياوريد اينجا ولي شما ، از بس دير كرديد كه او نتوانست درد دندان را تحمل كند و رفت پيش دندانساز.
ــ هوم … حق اين بود كه نزد دندانپزشكش مي رفت و مزاحم من نمي شد …
اين را گفت و اخم كرد. حدود يك دقيقه در سكوت گذشت.
ــ آقاي دكتر از زحمتي كه به شما داديم و شما را تا اينجا كشانديم عذر ميخواهم … باور كنيد اگر شوهرم ميدانست كه تشريف مي آوريد ، ممكن نبود پيش دندانساز برود … ببخشيد …
دقيقه اي ديگر در سكوت گذشت. نادژدا پترونا پشت گردن خود را خاراند. دكتر زير لب لندلندكنان گفت:
ــ خانم محترم ، لطفاً مرخصم كنيد! جايز نيست بيش از اين معطل شوم. وقت ماها آنقدر ارزش دارد كه …
ــ يعني … من كه … من كه معطلتان نكرده ام …
ــ ولي خانم محترم ، بنده كه نمي توانم بدون دريافت حق القدم از خدمتتان مرخص شوم!
نادژدا پترونا تا بناگوش سرخ شد و تته پته كنان گفت:
ــ حق القدم ؟ آه ، بله ، حق با شماست … بايد حق القدم داد ، درست مي فرماييد … شما زحمت كشيده ايد ، تشريف آورده ايد اينجا … ولي آقاي دكتر … باور بفرماييد شرمنده ام … موقعي كه شوهرم از منزل بيرون ميرفت ، كيف پولمان را هم با خودش برد … متأسفانه يك پاپاسي در خانه ندارم …
ــ هوم! … عجيب است! … پس مي فرماييد تكليف بنده چيست؟ من كه نميتوانم همين جا بنشينم و منتظر شوهرتان باشم. اتاقهايتان را بگرديد شايد پولي پيدا كنيد … حق القدم من ، در واقع مبلغ قابلي نيست …
ــ آقاي دكتر باور بفرماييد شوهرم تمام پولمان را با خودش برده … من واقعاً شرمنده ام … اگر پولي همراهم بود ممكن نبود بخاطر يك روبل ناقابل ، اين وضع … وضع احمقانه را تحمل كنم …
ــ مردم تلقي عجيبي از حق القدم پزشك ها دارند … به خدا قسم كه تلقي شان مايه ي حيرت است! طوري رفتار ميكنند كه انگار ما آدم نيستيم. كار و زحمت ما را ، كار به حساب نمي آورند … فكر كنيد اينهمه راه را آمده ام و زحمت كشيده ام … وقتم را تلف كرده ام …
ــ مشكل شما را مي فهمم آقاي دكتر ، ولي قبول بفرماييد گاهي اوقات ممكن است در خانه ي آدم حتي يك صناري پيدا نشود!
ــ آه … من چه كار به اين « گاهي اوقات ها » دارم ؟ خانم محترم شما واقعاً كه … ساده و غير منطقي تشريف داريد … خودداري از پرداخت حق القدم يك پزشك … عملي است ــ حتي نميتوانم بگويم ــ خلاف وجدان … از اينكه نميتوانم از دست شما به پاسبان سر كوچه شكايت كنم ، آشكارا سوءاستفاده ميكنيد … واقعاً كه عجيب است!
آنگاه اندكي اين پا و آن پا كرد … بجاي تمام بشريت ، احساس شرمندگي ميكرد … صورت نادژدا پترونا به قدري سرخ شد كه گفتي لپهايش مشتعل شده بودند ؛ عضلات چهره اش از شدت نفرت و انزجار ، تاب برداشته بودند ؛ بعد از سكوتي كوتاه ، با لحن تندي گفت:
ــ بسيار خوب! يك دقيقه به من مهلت بدهيد! … الان كسي را به دكان سر كوچه مان مي فرستم ، شايد بتوانم از او قرض بگيرم … حق القدمتان را مي پردازم ، نگران نباشيد.
سپس به اتاق مجاور رفت و يادداشتي براي كاسب سر گذر نوشت. دكتر پالتو پوست خود را در آورد ، به اتاق پذيرايي رفت و روي مبلي يله داد. هر دو خاموش و منتظر بودند. حدود پنج دقيقه بعد ، جواب آمد. نادژدا پترونا سر پاكت را باز كرد ، از لاي يادداشت جوابيه ي كاسب ، يك اسكناس يك روبلي در آورد و آن را به طرف دكتر دراز كرد. چشمهاي پزشك از شدت خشم درخشيدند. اسكناس را روي ميز گذاشت و گفت:
ــ خانم محترم از قرار معلوم ، بنده را دست انداخته ايد … شايد نوكرم يك روبل بگيرد ولي … بنده هرگز! ببخشيد …
ــ پس چقدر ميخواهيد ؟!
ــ معمولاً ده روبل مي گيرم … البته اگر مايل باشيد مي توانم از شما پنج روبل قبول كنم.
ــ پنج روبلم كجا بود ؟ … من همان اول كار به شما گفتم: پول ندارم!
ــ يادداشت ديگري براي كاسب سر گذر بفرستيد. آدمي كه بتواند به شما يك روبل قرض بدهد ، چرا پنج روبل ندهد؟ مگر برايش فرق ميكند؟ خانم محترم ، لطفاً بيش از اين معطلم نكنيد. من آدم بيكاري نيستم ، وقت ندارم …
ــ گوش كنيد آقاي دكتر ، اگر اسمتان را « گستاخ » ندانم ، دستكم بايد بگويم كه .. كم لطف و نامهربان تشريف داريد! نه! خشن و بيرحم! حاليتان شد؟ شما … نفرت انگيز هستيد!
نادژدا پترونا به طرف پنجره چرخيد و لب به دندان گرفت ؛ قطره هاي درشت اشك از چشمهايش فرو غلتيدند. با خود فكر كرد:
« مردكه ي پست فطرت! بي شرف! حيوان صفت! به خودش اجازه ميدهد … جرأت ميكند … آخر چرا نبايد وضع وحشتناك و اسفناك مرا درك كند؟ … لعنتي! صبر كن تا حاليت كنم! »
در اين لحظه به سمت دكتر چرخيد ؛ آثار رنج و التماس بر چهره اش نقش خورده بود. با صدايي آرام و لحني ملتمسانه گفت:
ــ آقاي دكتر! آقاي دكتر كاش قلبي در سينه تان مي تپيد ، كاش ميخواستيد درك كنيد … هرگز راضي نميشديد بخاطر پول … اينقدر رنج و عذابم بدهيد … خيال ميكنيد درد و غصه ي خودم كم است؟ …
در اين لحظه دست برد و شقيقه هاي خود را فشرد ؛ خرمن گيسوانش در يك چشم به هم زدن ــ گفتي فنري را فشرده بود ، نه شقيقه هايش را ــ بر شانه هايش فرو ريخت …
ــ از دست شوهر نادانم عذاب ميكشم … اين بيغوله ي گند و نفرت انگيز را تحمل ميكنم … و حالا يك مرد تحصيل كرده به خودش اجازه ميدهد ملامتم كند ، سركوفتم بزند. خداي من! تا كي بايد عذاب بكشم؟
ــ ولي خانم محترم ، قبول كنيد كه موقعيت خاص صنف ما …
اما دكتر ناچار شد خطابه اي را كه آغاز كرده بود قطع كند: نادژدا پترونا تلوتلو خورد و به بازوان دكتر كه به طرف او دراز شده بود ، در آويخت و از هوش رفت … سر او به سمت شانه ي دكتر خم شد و روي آن آرميد.
دقيقه اي بعد ، زمزمه كنان گفت:
ــ بياييد از اين طرف … جلو شومينه دكتر … جلوتر … همه چيز را برايتان تعريف ميكنم … همه چيز …
ساعتي بعد دكتر ، آپارتمان نادژدا پترونا را ترك گفت ؛
هم دلخور بود ؛ هم شرمنده ؛ هم سرخوش … در حالي كه سوار سورتمه ي خود ميشد ، زير لب گفت:
« انسان وقتي صبح ها از خانه اش بيرون مي رود ، نبايد پول زياد با خودش بردارد! يك وقت ناچار ميشود پولش را بسلفد! »

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