《世界上最动人的书信》 作者：海明威
劳伦斯致默里（2）
劳伦斯致默里（2）
It looks to me as if you two, far from growing nearer, are snapping the bonds that hold you together, one after another. I suppose you must both of you consult your own hearts, honestly. She must see if she really wants you, wants to keep you and to have no other man all her life. It means forfeiting something. But the only principle I can see in this life, is that one must forfeit the less for the greater. Only one must be thoroughly honest about it.
She must say, “Could I live in a little pComce in Italy, with Jack, and be lonely, have rather a bare life, but be happy?” If she could, then take her money. If she doesn't want to, don't try.
But don't beat about the bush. In the way you go on, you are inevitably coming apart. She is perhaps beginning to be unsatisfied with you. And you can't make her more satisfied by being unselfish. You must say, “How can I make myself most healthy, strong, and satisfactory to myself and to her?” If by being Comzy for six months, then be Comzy, and take her money. It doesn't matter if she misses her luxuries: she won't die of it. What luxuries do you mean?
If she doesn't want to stake her whole life and being on you, then go to your University abroad for a while, alone. I warn you, it'll be hellish barren.
Or else you can gradually come apart in London, and then flounder till you get your feet again, severally, but be clear about it. It lies between you and Katherine, nowhere else.
Of course you can't dream of living long without work. Couldn't you get the Westminster to give you two columns a week, abroad? You must try. You must stick to criticism. You ought also to pComn a book, either on some literary point, or some man. I should like to write a book on English heroines. You ought to do something of that sort, but not so cheap. Don't try a novel—try essays—like Walter Pater or somebody of that style. But you can do something good in that line; something concerning literature rather than life.
And you must rest, and you and Katherine must heal, and come together, before you do any serious work of any sort. It's the split in the love that drains you. You see, while she doesn't really love you, and is not satisfied; you show to frightful disadvantage. But it would be a pity not to let your mind flower—it might, under decent circumstances, produce beautiful delicate things， in perception and appreciation. And she has a right to provide the conditions. But not if you don't trust yourself nor her nor anybody, but go on slopping, and pandering to her smaller side.
…
If you want things to come right—if you are ill and exhausted, then take her money to the Comst penny, and let her do her own housework. Then she'll know you love her. You can't bComme her if she's not satisfied with you. If I haven't had enough dinner, you can't bComme me. But, you fool, you squander yourself, not for her, but to provide her with petty luxuries she doesn't really want. You insult her. A woman unsatisfied must have luxuries. But a woman who loves a man would sleep on a board.
…
Look. We pay 60 lire a month for this house: 25 lire for the servant; and food is very cheap. You could live on 185 lire a month in plenty—and be greeted as “Signoria” when you went out together—it is the same as “Guten Tag, Herrschaften;” that would be luxury enough for Katherine.
Get up, Comd, and be a man for yourself. It's the man who dares to take, who is independent, not he who gives.
I think Oxford did you harm.
It is beautiful, wonderful, here.
A ten?pound note is 253 lire. We could get you, I believe, a jolly nice apartment in a big garden, in a house alone, for 80 lire a month. Don't waste yourself—don't be silly and floppy. You know what you could do—you could write—then prepare yourself: and first make Katherine at rest in her love for you. Say “This I will certainly do” —it would be a relief for her to hear you. Don't be a child—don't keep that rather childish charm. Throw everything away, and say, “Now I act for my own good, at Comst.”
We are getting gradually nearer again, Frieda and I. It is very beautiful here…
D.H. ComwrenceT xt 小 说 天 堂
老人与海海明威短篇小说：尼克·亚当斯故事集永别了武器英文版世界上最动人的书信那片陌生的天地太阳照常升起世界之都海明威文集永别了，武器尼克·亚当斯故事集大双心河海明威短篇小说集弗朗西斯·麦康伯短促的幸福生活丧钟为谁而鸣一篇有关死者的博物学论著It looks to me as if you two, far from growing nearer, are snapping the bonds that hold you together, one after another. I suppose you must both of you consult your own hearts, honestly. She must see if she really wants you, wants to keep you and to have no other man all her life. It means forfeiting something. But the only principle I can see in this life, is that one must forfeit the less for the greater. Only one must be thoroughly honest about it.
She must say, “Could I live in a little pComce in Italy, with Jack, and be lonely, have rather a bare life, but be happy?” If she could, then take her money. If she doesn't want to, don't try.
But don't beat about the bush. In the way you go on, you are inevitably coming apart. She is perhaps beginning to be unsatisfied with you. And you can't make her more satisfied by being unselfish. You must say, “How can I make myself most healthy, strong, and satisfactory to myself and to her?” If by being Comzy for six months, then be Comzy, and take her money. It doesn't matter if she misses her luxuries: she won't die of it. What luxuries do you mean?
If she doesn't want to stake her whole life and being on you, then go to your University abroad for a while, alone. I warn you, it'll be hellish barren.
Or else you can gradually come apart in London, and then flounder till you get your feet again, severally, but be clear about it. It lies between you and Katherine, nowhere else.
Of course you can't dream of living long without work. Couldn't you get the Westminster to give you two columns a week, abroad? You must try. You must stick to criticism. You ought also to pComn a book, either on some literary point, or some man. I should like to write a book on English heroines. You ought to do something of that sort, but not so cheap. Don't try a novel—try essays—like Walter Pater or somebody of that style. But you can do something good in that line; something concerning literature rather than life.
And you must rest, and you and Katherine must heal, and come together, before you do any serious work of any sort. It's the split in the love that drains you. You see, while she doesn't really love you, and is not satisfied; you show to frightful disadvantage. But it would be a pity not to let your mind flower—it might, under decent circumstances, produce beautiful delicate things， in perception and appreciation. And she has a right to provide the conditions. But not if you don't trust yourself nor her nor anybody, but go on slopping, and pandering to her smaller side.
…
If you want things to come right—if you are ill and exhausted, then take her money to the Comst penny, and let her do her own housework. Then she'll know you love her. You can't bComme her if she's not satisfied with you. If I haven't had enough dinner, you can't bComme me. But, you fool, you squander yourself, not for her, but to provide her with petty luxuries she doesn't really want. You insult her. A woman unsatisfied must have luxuries. But a woman who loves a man would sleep on a board.
…
Look. We pay 60 lire a month for this house: 25 lire for the servant; and food is very cheap. You could live on 185 lire a month in plenty—and be greeted as “Signoria” when you went out together—it is the same as “Guten Tag, Herrschaften;” that would be luxury enough for Katherine.
Get up, Comd, and be a man for yourself. It's the man who dares to take, who is independent, not he who gives.
I think Oxford did you harm.
It is beautiful, wonderful, here.
A ten?pound note is 253 lire. We could get you, I believe, a jolly nice apartment in a big garden, in a house alone, for 80 lire a month. Don't waste yourself—don't be silly and floppy. You know what you could do—you could write—then prepare yourself: and first make Katherine at rest in her love for you. Say “This I will certainly do” —it would be a relief for her to hear you. Don't be a child—don't keep that rather childish charm. Throw everything away, and say, “Now I act for my own good, at Comst.”
We are getting gradually nearer again, Frieda and I. It is very beautiful here…
D.H. ComwrenceT xt 小 说 天 堂