LetterfromanUnknownWoman.docx

LetterfromanUnknownWoman.docx

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LetterfromanUnknownWoman

LetterfromanUnknownWoman（1922）

byStephanZweig

R.,thefamousnovelist,hadbeenawayonabriefholidayinthemountains.ReachingViennaearlyinthemorning,heboughtanewspaperatthestation,andwhenheglancedatthedatewasremindedthatitwashisbirthday."Forty-one!

"-thethoughtcamelikeaflash.Hewasneithergladnorsorryattherealisation.Hehailedataxi,andskimmedthenewspaperashedrovehome.Hismanreportedthattherehadbeenafewcallersduringthemaster'sabsence,besidesoneortwotelephonemessages.Abundleofletterswasawaitinghim.Lookingindifferentlyatthese,heopenedoneortwobecausehewasinterestedinthesenders,butlaidasideforthetimeabulkypacketaddressedinastrangehandwriting.Ateaseinanarmchair,hedrankhismorningtea,finishedthenewspaper,andreadafewcirculars.Then,havinglightedacigar,heturnedtotheremainingletter.

Itwasamanuscriptratherthananordinaryletter,comprisingacoupleofdozenhastilypennedsheetsinafemininehandwriting.Involuntarilyheexaminedtheenvelopeoncemore,incasehemighthaveoverlookedacoveringletter.Buttherewasnothingofthekind,nosignature,andnosender'saddressoneitherenvelopeorcontents."Strange,"hethought,ashebegantoreadthemanuscript.Thefirstwordswereasuperscription:

"Toyou,whohaveneverknownme."Hewasperplexed.Wasthisaddressedtohim,ortosomeimaginarybeing?

Hiscuriositysuddenlyawakened,hereadasfollows:

Iputcoldcompressesonhisforehead;dayandnight,nightandday,Iheldhisrestlesslittlehands.Thethirdevening,mystrengthgaveout.Myeyesclosedwithoutmybeingawareofit,andforthreeorfourhoursImusthavesleptonthehardstool.Meanwhile,Deathtookhim.Therehelies,mydarlingboy,inhisnarrowcot,justashedied.Onlyhiseyeshavebeenclosed,hiswise,darkeyes;andhishandshavebeencrossedoverhisbreast.Fourcandlesareburning,oneateachcornerofthebed.Icannotbeartolook,Icannotbeartomove;forwhenthecandlesflicker,shadowschaseoneanotheroverhisfaceandhisclosedlips.Itlooksasifhisfeaturesstirred,andIcouldalmostfancythatheisnotdeadafterall,thathewillwakeup,andwithhisclearvoicewillsaysomethingchildishlyloving.ButIknowthatheisdead;andIwillnotlookagain,tohopeoncemore,andoncemoretobedisappointed.Iknow,Iknow,myboydiedyesterday.NowIhaveonlyyouleftintheworld;onlyyou,whodonotknowme;you,whoareenjoyingyourselfallunheeding,sportingwithmenandthings.Onlyyou,whohaveneverknownme,andwhomIhaveneverceasedtolove.

Ihavelightedafifthcandle,andamsittingatthetablewritingtoyou.IcannotstayalonewithmydeadchildwithoutpouringmyheartouttosomeoneandtowhomshouldIdothatinthisdreadfulhourifnottoYou,whohavebeenandstillareallinalltome?

PerhapsIshallnotbeabletomakemyselfplaintoyou.Perhapsyouwillnotbeabletounderstandme.Myheadfeelssoheavy;mytemplesarethrobbing;mylimbsareaching.IthinkImustbefeverish.Influenzaisraginginthisquarter,andprobablyIhavecaughttheinfection.IshouldnotbesorryifIcouldjoinmychildinthatway,insteadofmakingshortworkofmyself.Sometimesitseemsdarkbeforemyeyes,andperhapsIshallnotbeabletofinishthisletter;butIshalltrywithallmystrength,thisoneandonlytime,tospeaktoyou,mybeloved,toyouwhohaveneverknownme.

ToyouonlydoIwanttospeak,thatImaytellyoueverythingforthefirsttime.Ishouldlikeyoutoknowthewholeofmylife,ofthatlifewhichhasalwaysbeenyours,andofwhichyouhaveknownnothing.ButyoushallonlyknowmysecretafterIamdead,whentherewillbenoonewhomyouwillhavetoanswer;youshallonlyknowitifthatwhichisnowshakingmylimbswithcoldandwithheatshouldreallyprove,forme,theend.IfIhavetogoonliving,IshalltearupthisletterandshallkeepthesilenceIhavealwayskept.Ifyoueverholditinyourhands,youmayknowthatadeadwomanistellingyouherlifestory;thestoryofalifewhichwasyoursfromitsfirsttoitslastfullyconscioushour.Youneedhavenofearofmywords.Adeadwomanwantsnothing;neitherlove,norcompassion,norconsolation.Ihaveonlyonethingtoaskofyou,thatyoubelievetothefullwhatthepaininmeforcesmetodisclosetoyou.Believemywords,forIasknothingmoreofyou;amotherwillnotspeakfalselybesidethedeath-bedofheronlychild.

Iamgoingtotellyoumywholelife,thelifewhichdidnotreallybeginuntilthedayIfirstsawyou.WhatIcanrecallbeforethatdayisgloomyandconfused,amemoryasofacellarfilledwithdusty,dull,andcobwebbedthingsandpeople-aplacewithwhichmyhearthasnoconcern.Whenyoucameintomylife,Iwasthirteen,andIlivedinthehousewhereyouliveto-day,intheveryhouseinwhichyouarereadingthisletter,thelastbreathofmylife.Ilivedonthesamefloor,forthedoorofourflatwasjustoppositethedoorofyours.Youwillcertainlyhaveforgottenus.Youwilllongagohaveforgottentheaccountant'swidowinherthreadbaremourning,andthethin,half-growngirl.Wewerealwayssoquiet;characteristicexamplesofshabbygentility.Itisunlikelythatyoueverheardourname,forwehadnoplateonourfrontdoor,andnooneevercametoseeus.Besides,itissolongago,fifteenorsixteenyears.Impossiblethatyoushouldremember.ButI,howpassionatelyIremembereverydetail.Asifithadjusthappened,Irecalltheday,thehour,whenIfirstheardofyou,firstsawyou.Howcoulditbeotherwise,seeingthatitwasthentheworldbeganforme?

Havepatienceawhile,andletmetellyoueverythingfromfirsttolast.Donotgrowwearyoflisteningtomeforabriefspace,sinceIhavenotbeenwearyoflovingyoumywholelifelong.

Beforeyoucame,thepeoplewholivedinyourflatwerehorridfolk,alwaysquarrelling.Thoughtheywerewretchedlypoorthemselves,theybatedusforourpovertybecauseweheldalooffromthem.Themanwasgiventodrink,andusedtobeathiswife.Wewereoftenwakenedinthenightbytheclatteroffallingchairsandbreakingplates.Once,whenhehadbeatenhertillthebloodcame,sheranoutonthelandingwithherhairstreaming,followedbyherdrunkenhusbandabusingher,untilallthepeoplecameoutontothestaircaseandthreatenedtosendforthepolice.Mymotherwouldhavenothingtodowiththem.Sheforbademetoplaywiththechildren,whotookeveryopportunityofventingtheirspleenonmeforthisrefusal.Whentheymetmeinthestreet,theywouldcallmenames;andoncetheythrewasnowballatmewhichwassohardthatitcutmyforehead.Everyoneinthehousedetestedthem,andweallbreathedmorefreelywhensomethinghappenedandtheyhadtoleave-Ithinkthemanhadbeenarrestedfortheft.Forafewdaystherewasa"ToLet"noticeatthemaindoor.Thenitwastakendown,andthecaretakertoldusthattheflathadbeenrentedbyanauthor,whowasabachelor,andwassuretobequiet.ThatwasthefirsttimeIheardyourname.

Afewdayslater,theflatwasthoroughlycleaned,andthepaintersanddecoratorscame.Ofcoursetheymadealotofnoise,butmymotherwasglad,forshesaidthatwouldbetheendofthedisordernextdoor.Ididnotseeyouduringthemove.Thedecorationsandfurnishingsweresupervisedbyyourservant,thelittlegrey-hairedmanwithsuchaseriousdemeanour,whohadobviouslybeenusedtoserviceingoodfamilies.Hemanagedeverythinginamostbusinesslikeway,andimpressedusallverymuch.Ahigh-classdomesticofthiskindwassomethingquitenewinoursuburbanflats.Besides,hewasextremelycivil,butwasneverhail-fellow-well-metwiththeordinaryservants.Fromtheoutsethetreatedmymotherrespectfully,asalady;andhewasalwayscourteouseventolittleme.Whenhehadoccasiontomentionyourname,hedidsoinawaywhichshowedthathisfeelingtowardsyouwasthatofafamilyretainer.Iusedtolovegood,oldJohnforthis,thoughIenviedhimatthesametimebecauseitwashisprivilegetoseeyouconstantlyandtoserveyou.

DoyouknowwhyIamtellingyouthesetrifles?

IwantyoutounderstandhowitwasthatfromtheverybeginningyourpersonalitycametoexercisesomuchpowerovermewhenIwasstillashyandtimidchild.BeforeIhadactuallyseenyou,therewasahaloroundyourhead.Youwereenvelopedinanatmosphereofwealth,marvel,andmystery.Peoplewhoselivesarenarrow,areavidofnovelty;andinthislittlesuburbanhousewewereallimpatientlyawaitingyourarrival.Inmyowncase,curiosityrosetofeverpointwhenIcamehomefromschooloneafternoonandfoundthefurniturevaninfrontofthehouse.Mostoftheheavythingshadgoneup,andthefurnitureremoversweredealingwiththesmallerarticles.Istoodatthedoortowatchandadmire,foreverythingbelongingtoyouwassodifferentfromwhatIhadbeenusedto.TherewereIndianidols,Italiansculptures,andgreat,brightlycolouredpictures.Lastofallcamebooks,suchlovelybooks,manymorethanIshouldhavethoughtpossible.Theywerepiledbythedoor.Themanservantstoodtherecarefullydustingthemonebyone.Igreedilywatchedthepileasitgrew.Yourservantdidnotsendmeaway,buthedidnotencouragemeeither,soIwasafraidtotouchanyofthem,thoughIshouldhavesolikedtostrokethesmoothleatherbindings.Ididglancetimidlyatsomeofthetitles;manyofthemwereinFrenchandinEnglish,andinlanguagesofwhichIdidnotknowasingleword.Ishouldhavelikedtostandtherewatchingforhours,butmymothercalledme