外国文学神秘及幻想故事集.docx

外国文学神秘及幻想故事集.docx

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外国文学神秘及幻想故事集

【外国文学】神秘及幻想故事集

　　TalesofMysteryandImaginationbyEdgarAllanPoe

■简介

　　想像一下，你正置身于湖畔的一座古旧宅邸之中。

时间是夜里，外面暴雨肆虐，狂风绕着灰色的石墙嘶吼。

房子下面的一间阴森的地窖里放着一口棺材，里面躺着玛德琳小姐的尸体。

同你一起待在房间里的是她的哥哥，正在用疯狂的目光望着你。

想像一下吧……你这是在鄂榭府上。

　　翻到另一页，可以见到一只黑猫被人勒住脖子吊在树上。

再翻一页，你就会听到一次美妙绝伦的假面舞会上响起的音乐声，看见一千个人在唱歌、跳舞。

你现在是在普洛斯佩罗亲王的城堡中。

城堡里面灯火通明、生气勃勃，人人纵情狂欢；但是在城墙外面，逡巡着那可怕的戴面具的红死魔……

　　这些故事将会带你进入一个阴暗的幻想世界，一个充满了恐怖、梦幻与疯狂的世界。

　　不要一个人读它们！

　　埃德加·爱伦·坡（1809—1849）出生于美国波士顿。

在短暂而郁郁不得志的一生中，他曾供职于几家报社，并发表了很多短篇小说和诗歌。

也许最令他声名远播的是他的短篇小说创作。

■TheFalloftheHouseofUsher

　　Itwasagreyautumndayandtheskywasfulloflargeblackclouds．AlldayIhadriddenthroughflatanduninterestingcountryside，butatlast，asitbegantogrowdark，Isawtheendofmyjourney．

　　There，infrontofme，stoodtheHouseofUsher．Andatonce-Idonotknowwhy-astrangefeelingofdeepgloomcamedownonmeandcoveredmelikeablanket．Ilookedupattheoldhousewithitshighstonewallsandnarrowwindows．Ilookedaroundatthethindrygrassandtheolddyingtrees，andanicyhandseemedtotakeholdofmyheart．Ifeltcoldandsick，andcouldnotthinkofonehappythoughttochaseawaymygloom．

　　Why，Iwondered，didtheHouseofUshermakemefeelsosad？

Icouldfindnoanswer．

　　TherewasalakenexttothehouseandIrodemyhorseuptotheedgeandstopped．Perhapsfromherethehousewouldnotseemsosad，sofullofgloom．Ilookeddownintothemirrorofdark，stillwater，andsawagaintheempty，eye-likewindowsofthehouseandthedyingtreesallaroundit．Thefeelingofgloomwasstrongerthanever．

　　ItwasinthishousethatIwasgoingtospendthenextfewweeks．Itsowner，RoderickUsher，hadbeenagoodfriendofminewhenIwasaboy．Ihadnotseenhimformanyyears，butrecentlyhehadsentmealetter-asadandterribleletter．Hewrotethathewasill，illinbodyandillinmind；thathewantedandneededtoseeme．Iwashisonlyfriend，theonlypersonwhocouldhelphiminhisillness．

　　Althoughwehadbeengoodfriendswhenwewereyoung，Iknewverylittleabouthim．Hehadneverspokenmuchabouthimself，butIknewthathecamefromaveryoldfamilyofwhichhewasthelastlivingman．IalsoknewthatintheUsherfamilytherehadneverbeenmanychildrenandsoforhundredsofyearsthefamilyname，togetherwiththefamilyhome，hadpassedstraightfromfathertoson．

　　AsIstoodbythelake，myfeelingofgloomgrewandgrew．Iknewalsothatunderneathmygloomlayfear，andfeardoesstrangethingstothemind．Ibegantoimaginethatthegloomwasnotinmymind，butwassomethingreal．Itwaslikeamysteriouscloud，whichseemedtocomestraightfromthedarklakeandthedyingtreesandtheoldwallsofthehouse．Aheavygreycloud，whichcarriedwithitdiseaseandfear．

　　Thiswasadream，Itoldmyself，andIlookedmorecarefullyatthebuildinginfrontofme．Itwas，indeed，veryoldandInoticedthateverystonehadcracksandholesinit．Buttherewasnothingreallywrongwiththebuilding．Nostonesweremissing．TheonlythingthatInoticedwasaverysmallcrackwhichstartedatthetopofthebuildingandcontinuedallthewaydownintothedarkwatersofthelake．

　　Iwentuptothefrontofthehouse．AservanttookmyhorseandIsteppedintothelargehall．Anotherservantledmesilentlyupstairs．Onthewallsthereweremanystrange，darkpictureswhichmademefeelnervous．IrememberedthesepicturesfrommyearliervisitstothehousewhenIwasachild．Butthefeelingsthatthepicturesgavemeonthisvisitwerenewtome．

　　Onthestairswemetthefamilydoctor．Hehadastrangelookonhisface，alookthatIdidnotlike．Ihurriedon，andfinallytheservantopenedadoorandtookmeintothestudy．

　　Theroomwaslargeandlong，withhighnarrowwindows，whichletinonlyalittlelightShadowslayinallthecornersoftheroomandaroundthedarkpiecesoffurniture．Therewere-manybooksandafewguitars，buttherewasnolife，nohappinessintheroom．Deepgloomfilledtheair．

　　WhenUshersawme，hegotupandwelcomedmewarmly．Ithoughthewasjustbeingpolite，butasIlookedintohisface，Icouldseethathewaspleasedtoseeme．Wesatdown，buthedidnotspeakatfirst，andforafewmomentsIwatchedhiminsurpriseandfear．Hehadchangedsomuchsinceourlastmeeting！

Hehadthesamepalethinface，thesameeyes，largeandclear，andthesamethinlipsandsofthair．Butnowhisskinwastoowhite，hiseyestoolargeandbright，andheseemedadifferentman．Hefrightenedme．Andhislongwildhairlookedlikeaghostlycloudaroundhishead．

　　Inoticedthatmyfriendwasverynervousandthathisfeelingschangedveryquickly．Sometimeshetalkedalot，thenhesuddenlybecamesilentanddidnotsayawordformanyhours．Atothertimeshefounditdifficulttothink，andhisvoicewasheavyandslow，likethevoiceofamanwhohaddrunktoomuch．

　　Hetoldmewhyhehadwantedtoseeme，andhowhehopedtofeelbetternowthatIwaswithhim．Hehad，heexplained，astrangeillnesswhichhadbeeninhisfamilyforalongtime．Itwasanervousillnesswhichmadehimfeeleverythingmuchmorestronglythanotherpeople．Hecouldonlyeatfoodthatwasalmosttasteless．Hehadtochoosehisclothesverycarefullybecausemostofthemhurthisskin．Hecouldnothaveflowersinhisroombecausetheirsmellwastoostrongforhim．Lighthurthiseyes，andmostsoundshurthisearsexceptthesoftsoundofguitars．

　　Worstofall，hewasaprisonerofhisownfear．‘Ishalldie，’heusedtosay，‘becauseofthisfear，I'mnotafraidofdanger．Whatfrightensmeisfearitself．AtthemomentIamfightingagainstfear，butsoonerorlaterIwon'tbeabletofightanymore．’

　　DuringlongconversationswithUsherIlearntmoreabouthisstrangeillness．HewassurethatitcamefromtheHouseofUsheritself．Hehadnotleftthehouseformanyyearsandhehadbecome，hethought，assadasthehouseitself．Thegloomofitsgreywallsanditsdarksilentlakehadbecomehisown．

　　Healsobelievedthatmuchofhissadnesswasbecausehisdearsisterwasseriouslyill．Hehadonesister，Madeleine，theonlyotherpersoninhisfamilywhowasstillliving，buteachdaysheseemedalittlenearertodeath．

　　‘Herdeath，’Ushersaidblackly，‘willleavemealoneintheworld，thelastofalltheUshers．’

　　Whilehewasspeaking，Madeleinepassedslowlythroughthebackofthelongroomand，withoutnoticingme，disappeared．AsIlookedather，myeyesfeltheavywith．sleep，andIhadastrangefeelingoffear．IlookedacrossatUsher．Hehadcoveredhisfacewithhishands，butIcouldseethathehadbecomeevenpaler，andthathewascryingsilently．

　　LadyMadeleine'sillnesswasamysteriousonewhichnodoctorcouldunderstand．Everydayshebecameweakerandthinner，andsometimeswentintoasleepwhichwasmorelikedeaththansleep．Foryearsshehadfoughtbravelyagainstherillness，butonthenightofmyarrivalshewenttobedanddidnotgetupfromitagain．‘Youwillprobablynotseeheragainalive，’Ushersaidtome，shakinghisheadsadly．

　　DuringthenextfewdaysUsherandIneverspokeabouthissister．Wespentalotoftimepaintingandreadingtogether，andsometimesheplayedonhisguitar．Itriedveryhardtohelpmyfriend，butIrealizedthathissadnesswastoodeep．Itwasablackgloomthatcoveredeverythingthatbelongedtohisworld；sometimes，indeed，heseemedclosetotheedgeofmadness．

　　Hepaintedstrangepictures，andsangmysterioussongswithwildwords．Hisideas，too，werestrange，andhehadoneideathstseemedmoreimportanttohimthanalltheothers．Hewasquitesurethatallthings，plants，trees，evenstones，wereabletofeel．

　　‘TheHouseofUsheritself，’hetoldme，‘islikealivingthing．Whenthewallswerefirstbuilt，lifewentintothestonesthemselvesandyearafteryearithasgrownstronger．Eventheairaroundthewallsandabovethelakehasitsownlife，andbelongstothehouse．Don'tyousee，’hecried，‘howthestonesandtheairhaveshapedthelivesoftheUsherfamily？

’

　　Theseideasweretoofantasticforme，andIcouldnotanswerhim．

　　OneeveningIwasreadingquietlywhenmyfriendtoldme，inveryfewwords，thattheLadyMadeleinehaddied．Hehaddecided，hesaid，tokeepherbodyforafortnightinoneofthevaultsunderthehouse，beforeitwenttoitslastresting-place．Thiswasbecausehissister'sillnesshadbeenamysteriousone，andherdoctorswantedtolearnmoreaboutit．HeaskedmetohelphimandIagreed．

　　Togetherwecarriedthebodyinitscoffindowntothevaultsunderthehouse．Thevaultthathehadchosenwasalongwaydown，butwasunderthepartofthehousewhereIslept．Ithadoncebeenaprison，andwassmall，dark，andairless，withaheavymetaldoor．

　　Weputthecoffindownandthengentlyliftedupthecovertolookatthedeadwomanforthelasttime．AsIlookeddownatherface，IrealizedhowmuchUsher'ssisterlookedlikehim．MyfriendthensaidafewquietwordsandIlearntthatheandhissisterhadbeenbornonthesameday．Eachhadknowntheother'smindwithouttheneedforwords．

　　Wecouldnotlookatherforlong．Herstrangeillnesshadleftherwithasoftpinkcolouronherface，andthatunchanginghalf－smileonherlipswhichissoterribleindeath．Weputbackthecoverofthecoffin，fixeditdownwell，andafterlockingtheheavydoorofthevault，wentbackupstairsintothegloomyhouse．

　　Aftersomedaysofdeepunhappiness，Isawthatmyfriend'sillnessofthemindwasgrowingworse．Hedidnotpaintorreadanymore．Hemovedslowlyfromroomtoroom，neverknowingwhattodo．Hisfacebecamepaler，thelightdisappearedfromhiseyes，andhisvoiceoftenshookwithfearwhenhespoke．SometimesIthoughthewastryingtotellmesometerriblesecret．AtothertimesIthoughthewasgoingmad．Heusedtositforhours，lookingatnothing，listeningtonothing-except