朗读者(作者：本哈德·施林克 译者：姚仲珍)

xhai

Chapter 12
　WHILE I have no memory of the lies I told my parents about the trip with Hanna, I do remember the price I had to pay to stay alone at home the last week of vacation.
　I can’t recall where my parents and my older brother and sister were going. The problem was my little sister. She was supposed to go and stay with a friend’s family. But if I was going to be at home, she wanted to be at home as well. My parents didn’t want that. So I was supposed to go and stay with a friend too.
　As I look back, I find it remarkable that my parents were willing to leave me, a fifteen-year-old, at home alone for a week. Had they noticed the independence that had been growing in me since I met Hanna? Or had they simply registered the fact that I had passed the class despite the months of illness and decided that I was more responsible and trustworthy than I had shown myself to be until then? Nor do I remember being called on to explain the many hours I spent at Hanna’s. My parents apparently believed that, now that I was healthy again, I wanted to be with my friends as much as possible, whether studying or just enjoying our free time. Besides, when parents have a pack of four children, their attention cannot cover everything, and tends to focus on whichever one is causing the most problems at the moment. I had caused problems for long enough; my parents were relieved that I was healthy and would be moving up into the next class.
　When I asked my little sister what her price was for going to stay with her friend while I stayed home, she demanded jeans - we called them blue jeans back then, or studded pants - and a Nicki, which was a velour丝绒; 天鹅绒 sweater. That made sense. Jeans were still something special at that time, they were chic, and they promised liberation from herringbone suits and big-flowered dresses. Just as I had to wear my uncle’s things, my little sister had to wear her big sister’s. But I had no money.
　“Then steal them!” said my little sister with perfect equanimity.
　It was astonishingly easy. I tried on various jeans, took a pair her size with me into the fitting room, and carried them out of the store against my stomach under my wide suit pants. The sweater I stole from the big main department store. My little sister and I went in one day and strolled from stand to stand in the fashion department until we found the right stand and the right sweater. Next day I marched quickly through the department, seized the sweater, hid it under my suit jacket, and was outside again. The day after that I stole a silk nightgown for Hanna, was spotted by the store detective, ran for my life, and escaped by a hair. I didn’t go back to the department store for years after that.
　Since our nights together on the trip, I had longed every night to feel her next to me, to curl up against her, my stomach against her behind and my chest against her back, to rest my hand on her breasts, to reach out for her when I woke up in the night, find her, push my leg over her legs, and press my face against her shoulder. A week alone at home meant seven nights with Hanna.
　One evening I invited her to the house and cooked for her. She stood in the kitchen as I put the finishing touches on the food. She stood in the open double doors between the dining room and living room as I served. She sat at the round dining table where my father usually sat. She looked around. Her eyes explored everything - the Biedermeier furniture, the piano, the old grandfather clock, the pictures, the bookcases, the plates and cutlery on the table.
　When I left her alone to prepare dessert, she was not at the table when I came back. She had gone from room to room and was standing in my father’s study. I leaned quietly against the doorpost and watched her. She let her eyes drift over the bookshelves that filled the walls, as if she were reading a text. Then she went to a shelf, raised her right index finger chest high and ran it slowly along the backs of the books, moved to the next shelf, ran her finger further along, from one spine to the next, pacing off the whole room. She stopped at the window, looked out into the darkness, at the reflection of the bookshelves, and at her own.
　It is one of the pictures of Hanna that has stayed with me. I have them stored away, I can project them on a mental screen and watch them, unchanged, unconsumed. There are long periods when I don’t think about them at all. But they always come back into my head, and then I sometimes have to run them repeatedly through my mental projector and watch them. One is Hanna putting on her stockings in the kitchen. Another is Hanna standing in front of the tub holding the towel in her outstretched arms. Another is Hanna riding her bike with her skirt blowing in her slipstream. Then there is the picture of Hanna in my father’s study. She’s wearing a blue-and-white striped dress, what they called a shirtwaist back then. She looks young in it. She has run her finger along the backs of the books and looked into the darkness of the window. She turns to me, quickly enough that the skirt swings out around her legs for a moment before it hangs smooth again. Her eyes are tired.
　“Are these books your father has just read, or did he write them too?”
　I knew there was a book on Kant and another on Hegel that my father had written, and I searched for them and showed them to her.
　“Read me something from them. Please, kid?”
　“I ...” I didn’t want to, but didn’t like to refuse her either. I took my father’s Kant book and read her a passage on analysis and dialectics that neither of us understood. “Is that enough?”
　She looked at me as though she had understood it all, or as if it didn’t matter whether anything was understandable or not. “Will you write books like that some day?”
　I shook my head.
　“Will you write other books?”
　“I don’t know.”
　“Will you write plays?”
　“I don’t know, Hanna.”
　She nodded. Then we ate dessert and went to her apartment. I would have liked to sleep with her in my bed, but she didn’t want to. She felt like an intruder in our house. She didn’t say it in so many words, but in the way she stood in the kitchen or in the open double doors, or walked from room to room, inspected my father’s books and sat with me at dinner.
　I gave her the silk nightgown. It was aubergine (dark purple color) -colored with narrow straps that left her shoulders and arms bare, and came down to her ankles. It shone and shimmered. Hanna was delighted; she laughed and beamed. She looked down at herself, turned around, danced a few steps, looked at herself in the mirror, checked her reflection, and danced some more. That too is a picture of Hanna that has stayed with me.


　　第12节

　　我虽然不记得为了能和汉娜一起出游，我在父母面前都撤了哪些流，却还记得为了在假期的最后一周里能一个人留在家里所付出的代价。我的父母、哥哥和姐姐去哪里旅行，我已不记得了。问题是我的小妹，她应该去一位女朋友家里，可是如果我留在家里的话，她也要呆在家里。我父母不想这样，这样一来，我也必须去一位朋友家里住。

　　回顾当时的情况，我发现有一点非常值得注意，那就是我父母准备让我一个十五岁的男孩子独自一人在家里呆上一周的时间。他们已注意到了我通过与汉娜的交往已经变得独立了吗？或者他们只是注意到，尽管我生了几个月的病，还是照样跟上了功课并由此得出结论，认为我比这之前他们所认为的更有责任心，更值得信赖了吗？当时我有那么多的时间是在汉娜那里度过的，我也记不得了当时我是否必须对此做出解释。看来，我父母认为我已经恢复了健康，以为我想更多地和朋友在一起，一起学习，一起玩耍。此外，四个孩子就像一群羊，父母不可能把注意力平分在每个孩子身上，而是集中在有特别问题的孩子身上。我有问题的时间够长的了，现在我身体健康并可以跟班上课，这已令我的父母感到轻松。

　　我想把妹妹打发到她的女朋友家里，以便我一个人留在家里。当我问她想要什么时，她说要一条牛仔裤——当时我们把牛仔裤叫做蓝牛仔裤或斜纹工装裤，一件市套衫和一件天鹅绒毛衣，这我能理解。牛仔裤在当时还是很特别的东西，很时髦。此外，牛仔裤还把人们从人字型西服和大花图案的服装中解放出来。就像我必须穿我叔叔穿过的衣服一样，我的妹妹也必须要穿我姐姐穿过的衣服。可是，我没有钱。

　　"那就去偷把！"我的妹妹看上会沉着冷静地这样说到。

　　这件事容易得令你吃惊。我在试衣间里试穿了不同型号的牛仔裤，也拿了几条我妹妹所穿的型号，把它们掖到又肥又宽的裤腰里就溜出了商店。那件布套衫是我在考夫豪夫店里偷出来的。有一天，我和妹妹在一家时装店里，从一个摊位溜达到另一个摊位，直到找到了卖正宗布套衫的正确摊位为止。第二天，我急匆匆地迈着果断的脚步，走过了这个经销部，抓起了一件毛衣，藏到了外套里，成功地带了出去。在此之后的第二天，我为汉娜偷了一件真丝睡衣，但被商店的侦探发现了。我拼命地跑，费了九牛二虎之力才逃掉。有好几年，我都没有再踏入考夫豪夫商店的大门。

　　自我们一起出游，一起过夜之后，每晚我都渴望着在身边感觉到她的存在，都渴望依偎在她怀里，都渴望着把肚子靠在她的屁股上，把胸贴在她后背上，把手放在她的(禁止)上，也渴望着夜里醒来时，用手臂去摸她，找她，把一条腿伸到她的一条腿上去，把脸在她肩上路路。独自一人在家里呆一周就意味着有机会和汉娜在一起度过七个夜晚。

　　其中的一个晚上，我把汉娜邀请了过来并为她做了饭。当我忙着做饭时，她站在厨房里。当我把饭菜端上来时，她站在餐厅和客厅开着的门之间。在圆餐桌旁，她坐到了通常我父亲所坐的位子上，朝四处打量。

　　她的眼神在审视着一切。毕德麦耶尔家具、三角大钢琴、老式的座钟、油画、摆满书的书架，还有放在餐桌上的餐具。当我起来去准备饭后甜食时，把她一个人留在了那儿。回来时发现她已不在桌边坐着了。她从一个房间走到另一个房间，最后她站在了我父亲的书房里。我轻轻地靠在门框上，看着她。她的目光在布满墙面的书架上漫游，好像在读一篇文章。然后，她走到一个书架前，在齐胸高的地方用右手的食指慢慢地在书脊上移动，从一个书架移到另一个书架，从一本书移到另一本书。她巡视了整个房间。在窗前，她停了下来，在昏暗中注视著书架的反光和倒影。

　　这是汉娜留在我心目中的形象之一。我把它储存在大脑中，可以在内心的银幕上放映，她总是那样没有变化。有时候，我很长时间都不想她，可是她总是让我又想起她，这可能是我多次地、一遍又一遍地在内。动的屏幕上非要放映、观赏她不可。其中的一个情景是汉娜在厨房里穿长筒袜，另外一个情景是汉娜站在浴缸前张开双手拿着浴巾。还有一个情景是汉娜骑着自行车，她的连衣裙随风飘舞。然后，就是汉娜在我父亲书房里的情景。她穿着一件蓝白相间的连衣裙，当时人们称之为衬衣裙。穿着它她看上去很年轻。她用手指摸著书脊走到了窗前，向窗外眺望。现在她把身子转向了我，她转得太快了，以至于她的裙子有那么一瞬间把她的腿给缠住了，过了一会裙子才又平放下来。她的眼神看上去有些疲倦。

　　"这些书只是你父亲读过的呢还是也有他写的？"

　　我知道父亲写过关于康德和黑格尔的书。我把两本书都找了出来给她看。

　　"给我朗读一段，你不愿意吗，小家伙！"

　　"我……"我不愿意，可是我又不想拒绝她的请求。我拿出了父亲的那本关于康德的书，给她朗读了其中关于分析学和辩证法的一段。她和我都不懂。"够了吗？"

　　她看着我，好像她都听懂的样子或者说懂与不懂都无关紧要的样子。"有一天你也会写这样的书吗？"

　　我摇摇头。

　　"你会写其他书吗？"

　　"我不知道。"

　　"你会写剧本吗？"

　　"我不知道，汉娜。"

　　她点点头。然后，我们吃了饭后甜食就去了她那里。我非常想和她在我的床上睡觉，但是她不愿意。她在我家里感觉像个闯入者。她并没有用语言表述这些，可是通过她的举止可以看得出来，她站在厨房里或者站在开着的门之间，她从一个房间走到另一个房间，她在我父亲的书房里摸著书，她和我坐在一起吃饭时的举止，所有这些都表明了这一点。

　　我把那件真丝睡衣送给了她。睡衣是紫红色的，细细的背带，袒胸露背的式样，一直拖到脚踝，质地柔润光滑。汉娜高兴得眉开眼笑。她上上下下地打量着自己，转过身来跳了几步舞，对着镜子看了一会自己在镜中的形象，接着又跳起来。

　　这也是汉娜留在我脑中的一个形象。

xhai

Chapter 13
　I ALWAYS EXPERIENCED the beginning of a new school year as a watershed. Moving up from tenth to eleventh grade was a major one. My class was disbanded among the three other parallel classes. Quite a few students had failed to make the grade, so four small classes were combined into three larger ones.
　My high school traditionally had taken only boys. When girls began to be accepted, there were so few of them to begin with that they were not divided equally among the parallel classes, but were assigned to a single class, then later to a second and a third, until they made up a third of each class. There were not enough girls in my year for any to be assigned to my former class. We were the fourth parallel class, and all boys, which is why we were the ones to be disbanded and reassigned, and not one of the other classes. We didn’t find out about it until school began. The principal summoned us into a classroom and informed us about the why and how of our reassignment. Along with six others, I crossed the empty halls to the new classroom. We got the seats that were left over; mine was in the second row. They were individual seats, but in pairs, divided into three rows. I was in the middle row. On my left I had a classmate from my old class, Rudolf Bargen, a heavyset, calm, dependable chess and hockey player with whom I hadn’t ever spent any time in my old class, but who soon became a good friend. On my right, across the aisle, were the girls.
　My neighbor was Sophie. Brown hair, brown eyes, brown summer skin, with tiny golden hairs on her bare arms. After I’d sat down and looked around, she smiled at me.
　I smiled back. I felt good, I was excited about a new start in a new class, and the girls. I had observed my mates in tenth grade: whether they had girls in their class or not, they were afraid of them, or kept out of their way, or showed off to them, or worshipped them. I knew my way around women, and could be comfortable and open in a friendly way. The girls liked that. I would get along with them well in the new class, which meant I’d get along with the boys too.
　Does everyone feel this way? When I was young, I was perpetually overconfident or insecure. Either I felt completely useless, unattractive, and worthless, or that I was pretty much a success, and everything I did was bound to succeed. When I was confident, I could overcome the hardest challenges. But all it took was the smallest setback for me to be sure that I was utterly worthless. Regaining my self-confidence had nothing to do with success; every goal I set myself, every recognition I craved made anything I actually did seem paltry by comparison, and whether I experienced it as a failure or triumph was utterly dependent on my mood. With Hanna things felt good for weeks - in spite of our fights, in spite of the fact that she pushed me away again and again, and again and again I crawled to her. And so summer in the new class began well.
　I can still see the classroom: right front, the door, along the right-hand wall the board with the clothes hooks, on the left a row of windows looking onto the Heiligenberg and - when we stood next to the glass at recess - down at the streets, the river and the meadows on the opposite bank; in front, the blackboard, the stands for maps and diagrams, and the teacher’s desk and chair on a foot-high platform. The walls had yellow oil paint on them to about head height, and above that, white; and from the ceiling hung two milky glass globes. There was not one superfluous thing in the room: no pictures, no plants, no extra chair, no cupboard with forgotten books and notebooks and colored chalk. When your eyes wandered, they wandered to what was outside the window, or to whoever was sitting next to you. When Sophie saw me looking at her, she turned and smiled at me.
　“Berg, Sophia may be a Greek name, but that is no reason for you to study your neighbor in a Greek lesson. Translate!”
　We were translating the Odyssey. I had read it in German, loved it, and love it to this day. When it was my turn, it took me only seconds to find my place and translate. After the teacher had stopped teasing me about Sophie and the class had stopped laughing, it was something else that made me stutter. Nausicaa, white-armed and virginal, who in body and features resembled the immortals - should I imagine her as Hanna or as Sophie? It had to be one of the two.


　　第13节

　　我总是认为每个学年的开始都是一个重大的转折。从文科中学的六年级升入七年级发生了重大的变化，我原来所在的班被解散了，我们被分插到其他三个同年级的班里。有相当多的学生没能过六年级升入七年级这一关。这样，原来的四个小班被合并为三个大班。

　　我所在的那所文科中学有好长一段时间只招男生。当也开始招收女生时，最初人数很少，不能均匀地分配到每个班里，而只能分配到一个班，后来，又分配到第二、第三班，直到每班都分入了三分之一的女生为止。我原来所在的班在我上学的那年没有这么多的女生可分。我们为第四班，是个纯男生班。正因为如此，才是我们班而不是其他别的班被解散，被分插。

　　我们只是在新学期伊始才知道这些。校长把我们召集到一间教室里，告诉了我们分班的情况。我和六名同班同学一起穿过空空荡荡的走廊走进了新教室。我们得到的座位都是剩余的，我的座位在第二排。每人一张课桌，两个课桌并列为一对。共有三个纵排，我坐在中间那排，左边坐着原来班上的同学鲁道夫·巴根，他比较胖，比较安静，是个可信赖的国际象棋和曲棍球手。在原来的班里，我和他几乎没有什么往来，可是到了新班我们很快就成了好朋友。右边的那排坐的都是女生。

　　我的邻桌叫索菲，·她头发棕色，眼睛绿色，皮肤被夏日的阳光晒成棕色，裸露的胳膊上长着金黄色的汗毛。我坐下之后，向四周张望了一下，她冲我笑了笑。

　　我也报之以微笑。我现在自我感觉良好，很高兴在新的班级里开始新的生活，还为班里有女生而高兴。在六年级时，我曾经观察过我的男同学：不管班里是否有女同学，他们都怕她们，回避她们，或者在她们面前吹牛，或者对她们崇拜得五体投地。我了解女人，可以和她们友好地、泰然自若地相处。女孩子们也喜欢这样，在新班里，我要和她们融洽相处，同样也要和男同学友好相处。

　　所有的人都是像我一样吗？我在年轻时总是感觉不是太自信了，就是．不知所措；不是显得完全无能、微不足道或一事无成，就是自我认为在各方面都很成功，而且必须在各方面都要成功。只要我自信，就可以克服最大的困难。但一个小小的失败又足以让我感到我一事无成。重新获得的自信从不是成功的结果。我也期望自己能做出成绩，渴望他人的认同，但我却很少能做出什么成绩，即使能，也都是微不足道的成绩。我能否感觉到这种微不足道，是否为这种微不足道的成绩感到自豪，这完全取决于我的心清如何。几个星期以来，和汉娜在一起我感觉很不错，尽管我们之间有争吵，尽管她不断地训斥我，而我又总是屈就于她。这样，随着新班级生活的开始，一个愉快的夏天也来临了。

　　我眼前的教室是这样的：门在右前方，右面墙上是木制挂衣钩，左边是一排窗户，透过窗户可以望到圣山。当课间休息时，我们站在窗前，这时向外可以看到下面的街道、一条河。以及河对岸的一片草坪。前面是黑板、放地图的架子和图表。在齐脚面高的小讲台上摆着讲桌和椅子。内墙到齐头高的地方都剧上了黄色的油漆，一人高以上的地方刷上了白色。天花板上吊了两个乳白色的圆灯泡。教室里再没有什么多余的东西，没有图片，没有植物，没有多余的桌位，没有放忘记带走的书本或者彩色粉笔的柜子。如果你的眼睛开小差的话，你只能把目光投向窗外或者偷看邻桌的男女同学。当索菲察觉到我在看她时，就转向我这边来，对我笑笑。

　　"白格，即使索菲是一个希腊名字，那您也没有理由在上希腊语课时研究您的邻桌女同学。快翻译！"

　　我们翻译《奥德赛》，我读过德文版，很喜欢读，直到今天仍旧很喜欢。如果轮到我的话，我只需几秒钟，就能进入状态把它翻译出来。但当老师把我叫起来，又把我和索菲的名字联系在一起时，同学们哄堂大笑。当他们的笑声停止时，我却由于其他的原因口吃起来。瑞西卡，这个婀娜多姿、手臂白嫩的少女，她应该是汉娜呢，还是索菲？反正她应该是二者中的一个。

xhai

Chapter 14
　WHEN AN airplane's engines fail, it is not the end of the flight. Airplanes don’t fall out of the sky like stones. They glide on, the enormous multi-engined passenger jets, for thirty, forty-five minutes, only to smash themselves up when they attempt a landing. The passengers don’t notice a thing. Flying feels the same whether the engines are working or not. It’s quieter, but only slightly: the wind drowns out the engines as it buffets the tail and wings. At some point, the earth or sea look dangerously close through the window. But perhaps the movie is on, and the stewards and air hostesses have closed the shades. Maybe the very quietness of the flight is appealing to the passengers.
　That summer was the glide path of our love. Or rather, of my love for Hanna. I don’t know about her love for me. We kept up our ritual of reading aloud, showering, making love, and then lying together. I read her War and Peace with all of Tolstoy’s disquisitions on history, great men, Russia, love and marriage; it must have lasted forty or fifty hours. Again, Hanna became absorbed in the unfolding of the book. But it was different this time; she withheld her own opinions; she didn’t make Natasha, Andrei, and Pierre part of her world, as she had Luise and Emilia, but entered their world the way one sets out on a long and dazzling journey, or enters a castle which one is allowed to visit, even stay in until one feels at home, but without ever really shedding one’s inhibitions. All the things I had read to her before were already familiar to me. War and Peace was new for me, too. We took the long journey together.
　We thought up pet names for each other. She began not just to call me Kid, but gave me other attributes and diminutives, such as Frog or Toad, Puppy, Toy, and Rose. I stuck to Hanna, until she asked me, “Which animal do you see when you hold me and close your eyes and think of animals?” I closed my eyes and thought of animals. We were lying snuggled close together, my head on her neck, my neck on her breasts, my right arm underneath her against her back and my left hand on her behind. I ran my arms and hands over her broad back, her hard thighs, her firm ass, and also felt the solidity of her breasts and stomach against my neck and chest. Her skin was smooth and soft to the touch, the body beneath it strong and reliable. When my hand lay on her calf, I felt the constant twitching play of muscles. It reminded me of the way a horse twitches its hide to repel flies. “A horse.”
　“A horse?” She disentangled herself, sat up and stared at me, stared in shock.
　“You don’t like it? It came to me because you feel so good, smooth and soft and all firm and strong underneath. And because your calf twitches.” I explained my association.
　She looked at the ripple of the muscles in her calf. “Horse.” She shook her head. “I don’t know ...”
　That wasn’t how she usually was. Usually she was absolutely single-minded, whether in agreement or disagreement. Faced with her look of shock, I had been ready to take it all back if necessary, blame myself, and apologize. But now I tried to reconcile her to the horse. “I could call you Cheval or Pony or Little Equus. When I think of horses, I don’t think horse’s teeth or horse face or whatever it is that worries you, I think of something good, warm, soft, strong. You’re not a bunny or a kitten, and whatever there is in a tiger - that evil something - that’s not you either.”
　She lay down on her back, arms behind her head. Now it was me who sat up to look at her. She was staring into space. After a while she turned her face to me. Her expression was curiously naked. “Yes, I like it when you call me Horse or those other horse names - can you explain them to me?”
　Once we went to the theater in the next town to see Schiller’s Intrigues and Love. It was the first time Hanna had been to the theater, and she loved all of it, from the performance to the champagne at intermission. I put my arm around her waist, and didn’t care what people might think of us as a couple, and I was proud that I didn’t care. At the same time, I knew that in the theater in our hometown I would care. Did she know that too?
　She knew that my life that summer no longer revolved around her, and school, and my studies. More and more, when I came to her in the late afternoon, I came from the swimming pool. That was where our class got together, did our homework, played soccer and volleyball and skat, and flirted. That was where our class socialized, and it meant a lot to me to be part of it and to belong. The fact that I came later than the others or left earlier, depending on Hanna’s schedule, didn’t hurt my reputation, but made me interesting. I knew that. I also knew that I wasn’t missing anything, and yet I often had the feeling that absolutely everything could be happening while I wasn’t there. There was a long stretch when I did not dare ask myself whether I would rather be at the swimming pool or with Hanna. But on my birthday in July, there was a party for me at the pool, and it was hard to tear myself away from it when they didn’t want me to go, and then an exhausted Hanna received me in a bad mood. She didn’t know it was my birthday. When I had asked her about hers, and she had told me it was the twenty-first of October, she hadn’t asked me when mine was. She was also no more bad-tempered than she always was when she was exhausted. But I was annoyed by her bad temper, and I wanted to be somewhere else, at the pool, away with my classmates, swept up in the exuberance of our talk, our banter, our games, and our flirtations. Then when I proceeded to get bad-tempered myself and we started a fight and Hanna treated me like a nonentity, the fear of losing her returned and I humbled myself and begged her pardon until she took me back. But I was filled with resentment.


　　第14节

　　飞机发动机的失灵并不意味飞机末日的马上来临。飞机并不像石头那样从天空突然坠落下来，那种带有多个喷气式发动机的大型客机在坠毁之前，还能继续飞行半小时到四十五分钟。这期间，乘客们什么也感觉不出来。发动机失灵的飞机和发动机正常工作的飞机在飞行中感觉上没有什么不一样，它的声音比较小，但也仅仅是小一点点。比发动机声音大的是机身和机体所带动的风。不定什么时候，当你朝窗外看时，才会发现地面或海洋是那样令人可怕地近在咫尺。或者空中小姐和先生把这光窗关上开始放电影。这时，乘客们甚至可能觉得噪音稍小的飞机还特别舒服。

　　那个夏天，我们的爱情开始走下坡路，尤其是我对汉娜的爱、她爱我的程度我都一无所知。

　　我们保持了例行公事式的朗读、淋浴、做爱。躺在一起的习惯。我朗读了《战争与和平》这部托尔斯泰描述历史、伟人、俄国、爱情与婚姻的小说，大概用了四十到五十个小时的时间。汉娜还是一如既往地，紧张地关注着故事情节的发展。与以往有所不同的是，她不再做评论，不再把娜塔莎、安德列和比尔纳入她的世界，就像她曾把露伊莎和爱米丽雅纳入她的世界一样，而是进人了他们的世界，就像一个人惊奇地做一次远一样，或者像一个人进入一座城堡一样，你可以进来，你可以在此逗留，你可以越来越熟悉它，但是却不能一点不胆怯。在此之前，我给她朗读的书，我自己都读过。《战争与和平》对我也是一本新书。我们一起进行了这次远游。

　　我们相互给对方编造了昵称，她开始不仅仅叫我小家伙了，而是用各种不同的修饰语和缩略词来称呼我；什么青蛙、蛤蟆、小狗、鹅卵石和玫瑰。我一直称她为汉娜，直到她问我："如果你把我搂在怀里，闭上眼睛想一想动物，你会想到什么动物呢？"我闭上眼睛开始想动物。她的皮肤摸上去光滑柔软而她的下(禁止)结实有力。当我把手放到她小腿肚子上时，感到她的肌肉开始持续不断地抽动起来。这让我想起了马在驱赶苍蝇时的皮肤抽动。"一匹马。"

　　"一匹马？"她挣脱了我，坐起来吃惊地望着我。

　　"你不喜欢吗？我想到了马是因为你摸上去是如此之好，即光滑又柔软，下(禁止)结实强壮，而且也因为你的小腿肚子在抽动。"我向她解释我的联想。

　　她看着她的小腿上的肌肉说："一匹马，"她摇摇头："怎么会……"

　　那不是她的性格，她一向都不模棱两可，或者是赞同或者是拒绝。在她惊讶目光的注视下，我已做好准备，如果有必要，就收回一切，做自我谴责并向她赔不是。但是，现在我想要尽力用马来和她和解。"我可以用马的不同美称来称呼你，如'谢瓦尔'、呵吁'、小爱快'或'小快快'。我想到马并不是想到了马嚼子或是马的头盖骨或是什么你不喜欢的东西，而是想到了它好的一面，它的温暖、温顺和坚强。你不是小兔子。小猫或者一只母老虎。在这些动物身上有它可恶的一面，你身上并没有。"

　　地仰面躺着，两个手臂枕在头下面。现在我坐了起来看着她，她的目光空洞无神。过了一会儿，她把脸转向了我，她的面部表情特别真诚。"是的，我喜欢，如果你叫我马或者马其他的名字时，你能给我解释一下吗？"

　　有一次，我们一起去了临近的城市，在那儿的一家剧院我们看了《阴谋与爱情》那是汉娜第一次看戏，她享受着那里的一切：从演出到中间休息时的香槟酒。我搂着她的腰，无所谓人们可能会把我们看做是一对。我为自己的这种无所谓而自豪。同时，我也知道若在我家乡的剧院里，我就不会无所谓了。她也知道这个吗？

　　她知道，我的生活在那个夏天不再仅仅是围绕地、学校和学习循环了。下午去她那里时，我常常是游完泳才去，这样的情况越来越多。在游泳池，我们男女同学聚集在一起，一起做作业，踢足球，打排球，玩三人玩的戏牌，一起调情嬉闹。我们班里的课余生活都在那里度过。去那里和属于那里对我来说很重要。我视汉娜的工作时间而定，或者比其他人晚来或者早走。我知道，这对我的名声没有什么坏处，相反，别人都觉得我挺有趣。我也知道，我什么也没错过。可我经常还是有种感觉，好像刚好在我不在时发生了什么事，但鬼知道是什么事。我是否比呆在汉娜那儿更愿意呆在游泳池？这个问题，我很长时间里都不敢对自己提出来。但是，我在七月里的生日却是在游泳池庆祝的。生日过得很遗憾，汉娜筋疲力尽、心情很不好地接待了我，她不知道那天是我的生日。当我问起她的生日时，她说了十月二十一日，并没有问起我的生日。不过，她的情绪也不比她平时精疲力尽时更坏。但是，她不佳的情绪令我生气。我希望离开这儿去游泳池，去我的男女同学们那儿，去和他们轻松地聊天说笑，嘻闹调情。当我也表现出坏情绪时，我们又陷入了争吵。当汉娜不理睬我时，我又害怕失去她了，我低三下四地向她赔不是，直到她把我搂到怀里为止，但是我却满腔怨恨。

xhai

Chapter 15
　THEN I began to betray her.
　Not that I gave away any secrets or exposed Hanna. I didn’t reveal anything that I should have kept to myself. I kept something to myself that I should have revealed. I didn’t acknowledge her. I know that disavowal is an unusual form of betrayal. From the outside it is impossible to tell if you are disowning someone or simply exercising discretion, being considerate, avoiding embarrassments and sources of irritation. But you, who are doing the disowning, you know what you’re doing. And disavowal pulls the underpinnings away from a relationship just as surely as other more flamboyant types of betrayal.
　I no longer remember when I first denied Hanna. Friendships coalesced out of the casual ease of those summer afternoons at the swimming pool. Aside from the boy who sat next to me in school, whom I knew from the old class, the person I liked especially in the new class was Holger Schlüter, who like me was interested in history and literature, and with whom I quickly felt at ease. He also got along with Sophie, who lived a few blocks behind our house, which meant that we went to and from the swimming pool together. At first I told myself that I wasn’t yet close enough to my friends to tell them about Hanna. Then I didn’t find the right opportunity, the right moment, the right words. And finally it was too late to tell them about Hanna, to present her along with all my other youthful secrets. I told myself that talking about her so belatedly would misrepresent things, make it seem as if I had kept silent about Hanna for so long because our relationship wasn’t right and I felt guilty about it. But no matter what I pretended to myself, I knew that I was betraying Hanna when I acted as if I was letting my friends in on everything important in my life but said nothing about Hanna.
　The fact that they knew I wasn’t being completely open only made things worse. One evening Sophie and I got caught in a thunderstorm on our way home and took shelter under the overhang of a garden shed in Neuenheimer Feld, which had no university buildings on it then, just fields and gardens. It thundered, the lightning crackled, the wind came in gusts, and rain fell in big heavy drops. At the same time the temperature dropped a good ten degrees. We were freezing, and I put my arm around her.
　“You know ...” She wasn’t looking at me, but out at the rain.
　“What?”
　“You were sick with hepatitis for a long time. Is that what’s on your mind? Are you afraid you won’t really get well again? Did the doctors say something? And do you have to go to the clinic every day to get tests or transfusions?”
　Hanna as illness. I was ashamed. But I really couldn’t start talking about Hanna at this point. “No, Sophie, I’m not sick anymore. My liver is normal, and in a year I’ll even be able to drink alcohol if I want, but I don’t. What’s ...” Talking about Hanna, I didn’t want to say 'what’s bothering me.' “There’s another reason I arrive later or leave earlier.”
　“Do you not want to talk about it, or is it that you want to but you don’t know how?”
　Did I not want to, or didn’t I know how? I didn’t know the answer. But as we stood there under the lightning, with the explosions of thunder rumbling almost overhead and the pounding of the rain, both freezing, warming each other a little, I had the feeling that I had to tell her, of all people, about Hanna. “Maybe I can tell you some other time.”
　But there never was another time.


　　第15节

　　后来我开始背叛她。

　　不是我泄露了我们之间的秘密或者出汉娜的丑。我不该讲的，什么都没有讲，该讲的我也什么都没讲。我没有透露我和她的关系。我知道否认是不明显的、变相的背叛。一个人是否能保守秘密或者是否不承认一件事，是否替他人着想，是否能避免尴尬和令人生气的场面，从外表上是看不出来的。但是，这个隐瞒心事而不宜的人对此是一清二楚。否认——变相的背叛，会使我们的关系失去基础。

　　我已不记得了，我第一次否认汉娜是什么时候。夏日的午后，游泳池把我们同学之间的关系发展为朋友的关系。在新班上，除了我的邻桌以外——他是我原来班上的同学，我尤其喜欢像我一样喜爱历史和文学的霍尔格·施吕特，我们很快就成为知己。他不久也和索菲成了好朋友。索菲住得离我家不远，这样我和她去游泳池同路。起初，我心想，我和朋友之间的信任程度还不足以使我向他们敞开心扉讲述我和汉娜的关系，后来，我又没有找到合适的机会和恰如其分的言辞。再往后，当别人都讲述年轻人的秘密时，我再讲述汉娜就太迟了。我想，这么晚了才讲述汉娜一定会给人造成一种错误的印象。我沉默了这么长时间是因为我们的关系在其他人看来不正常而且我感到内疚，可是我知道我只字没提汉娜是对她的背叛，我这样做似乎是想让朋友们知道什么是我生活中重要的事情，实际上也是在自欺欺人。

　　尽管他们注意到我不是很坦率，但这并未改变我的缄口。有一天晚上，我和索菲在回家的路上遇上了一场大雷雨。我们躲到了新家园，在一座园圃的门檐下避雨。当时那里还尚未建大学楼，只是田园。当时，电闪雷鸣，风雨交加，下着豆大的雨点，与此同时，气温骤然降了五度左右。我们冷得要命，我一手搂着她。

　　"喂？"她并不看着我而是望着外面的雨对我说。

　　"什么？"

　　"你病了很久吧，是黄胆病。这就是你在忙碌的事情吗？你害怕再也恢复不了健康吗？医生们是怎么说的呢？你必须每天去医院换血或者输液吗？"

　　把汉娜当做病，我感到可耻。可是要谈起汉娜我又实在无法启齿。"不，索菲，我的病已经好了，我的肝胆也正常，如果我愿意，一年后我甚至可以喝酒，但我不想喝。我要……"汉娜使我忙忙碌碌，但我不想提汉娜。"我为什么晚来或早走是因为其他事情。"

　　"你不想就此谈一谈吗？或者你实际上想谈却又不知道如何谈？"

　　我不想谈，还是不知道怎样谈？这个连我自己也说不清楚，但是，当我俩站在电闪雷鸣、劈啪作响的雨中时，在都冻得发抖又相互可以取点暖的时候，我有一种感觉，那就是我对她，也只有对她才能提到汉娜。"也许下一次我能讲吧。"

　　但是，再也没有这样的下一次了。

xhai

Chapter 16
　I NEVER FOUND out what Hanna did when she wasn’t working and we weren’t together. When I asked, she turned away my questions. We did not have a world that we shared; she gave me the space in her life that she wanted me to have. I had to be content with that. Wanting more, even wanting to know more, was presumption冒昧; 放肆 on my part. If we were particularly happy with each other and I asked her something because at that moment it felt as if everything was possible and allowed, then she sometimes ducked my questions, instead of refusing outright to answer them. “The things you ask, kid!” Or she would take my hand and lay it on her stomach. “Are you trying to make holes in me?” Or she would count on her fingers. “Laundry, ironing, sweeping, dusting, shopping, cooking, shake plums out of tree, pick up plums, bring plums home and cook them quick before the little one” - and here she would take hold of the fifth finger of her left hand between her right thumb and forefinger - “eats them all himself.”
　I never met her unexpectedly on the street or in a store or a movie theater, although she told me she loved going to the movies, and in our first months together I always wanted to go with her, but she wouldn’t let me. Sometimes we talked about films we had both seen. She went no matter what was showing, and saw everything, from German war and folk movies to Westerns and New Wave新浪潮电影艺术流派 films, and I liked what came out of Hollywood, whether it was set in ancient Rome or the Wild West. There was one Western in particular that we both loved: the one with Richard Widmark playing a sheriff who has to fight a duel next morning that he’s bound to lose, and in the evening he knocks on Dorothy Malone’s door - she’s been trying, but failing, to get him to make a break for it. She opens up. “What do you want now? Your whole life in one night?” Sometimes Hanna teased me when I came to her full of desire, with “What do you want now? Your whole life in one hour?”
　Only once did I ever see Hanna by chance. It was the end of July or the beginning of August, in the last few days before summer vacation.
　Hanna had been behaving oddly for days, moody and peremptory, and at the same time palpably under some kind of pressure that was absolutely tormenting her and left her acutely sensitive and vulnerable. She pulled herself together and held herself tight as if to stop herself from exploding. When I asked what was upsetting her so, she snapped at me. That was hard for me to take. I felt rejected, but I also felt her helplessness, and I tried to be there for her and at the same time to leave her in peace. One day the pressure was gone. At first I thought Hanna was her usual self again. We had not started a new book after the end of War and Peace, but I had promised I’d see to it, and had brought several books to choose from.
　But she didn’t want that. “Let me bathe you, kid.”
　It wasn’t summer’s humidity that had settled on me like a heavy net when I came into the kitchen. Hanna had turned on the boiler for the bathwater. She filled the tub, put in a few drops of lavender oil, and washed me. She wore her pale blue flowered smock with no underwear underneath; the smock stuck to her sweating body in the hot, damp air. She excited me very much. When we made love, I sensed that she wanted to push me to the point of feeling things I had never felt before, to the point where I could no longer stand it. She also gave herself in a way she had never done before. She didn’t abandon all reserve, she never did that. But it was as if she wanted us to drown together.
　“Now go to your friends.” She dismissed me, and I went. The heat stood solidly between the buildings, lay over the fields and gardens, and shimmered above the asphalt. I was numb. At the swimming pool the shrieks of playing, splashing children reached me as if from far, far away. I moved through the world as if it had nothing to do with me nor I with it. I dived into the milky chlorinated water and felt no compulsion to surface again. I lay near the others, listening to them, and found what they said silly and pointless.
　Eventually the feeling passed. Eventually it turned into an ordinary afternoon at the swimming pool with homework and volleyball and gossip and flirting. I can’t remember what it was I was doing when I looked up and saw her.
　She was standing twenty or thirty meters away, in shorts and an open blouse knotted at the waist, looking at me. I looked back at her. She was too far away for me to read her expression. I didn’t jump to my feet and run to her. Questions raced through my head: Why was she at the pool, did she want to be seen with me, did I want to be seen with her, why had we never met each other by accident, what should I do? Then I stood up. And in that briefest of moments in which I took my eyes off her, she was gone.
　Hanna in shorts, with the tails of her blouse knotted, her face turned towards me but with an expression I cannot read at all - that is another picture I have of her.


　　第16节

　　我一直都不知道汉娜不上班而我们又不在一起时她做什么。问起她这个问题，她就驳回我。我们没有共同的生活世界，她在她的生活中给我留有了她想给予我的一席之地，对此我该满足了。如果我想知道更多一点，不过是更多一点，那就是胆大妄为了。如果我们在一起感到特别地心满意足时，我有一种感觉，现在什么都可以问也允许问，可随之却出现了这样的情况：她不拒绝回答我的问题却绕开我的问题。"你怎么什么都想知道，小家伙！"或者她把我的手放在她的肚子上："你想让它被打出洞来吗？"或者她掰着手指数："我要洗衣服，熨衣服，打扫卫生，买菜做饭，要把李子从树上摇晃下来，还要把它们抬起来运回屋里，尽快把它们做成果酱，否则的话，这个小东西就吃了。"她把左手的小拇指放到右手的大拇指和食指间，"否则的话，它一个人就给吃光了。"

　　我也从来没有与她不期而遇过，在街上，或者在商店里，在电影院，在一些如她所说的经常喜欢去的地方，或在最初的几个月里我总想和她一起去而她不愿意去的地方。有时我们谈论我俩都看过的影片。她毫无选择地看所有的影片，从德国的战争片到家乡片，从西部片到新浪潮派。我喜欢看好莱坞影片，不论是描写古罗马的还是西部片都喜欢。有一部西部片我们两人都特别喜欢，里查德·魏德马克扮演一名司法官，他第二天早上必须要和人决斗而且注定要战败。晚上，他来到多梦西·马隆的门前，她徒劳地劝其逃离。她把if打开："你现在要做什么？你为了一个晚上不要命了吗？"当我满怀急切的渴望去汉娜那儿时，她有时戏弄地对我说："你现在要做什么？为了一个小时你不要命了吗？"

　　我仅有一次与汉娜不期而遇。那是七月底或八月初，放暑假的前一天。

　　有好几天，汉娜的情绪都极不寻常，她任性粗暴同时明显地处于一种使其极端痛苦、敏感和脆弱的压力之下。她在极力控制自己，好像要避免在压力下彻底崩溃。我问她是什么事情使她如此痛苦，她对此的反应是没好气地对待我。我不知如何是好，无论如何我不仅感觉到她对我的训斥而且也感觉到了她的无助。我尽量去陪伴她同时又尽量少打扰她。有一天，这种压力不见了。于是，我想汉娜又和从前一样了。我们朗读完《战争与和平》之后没有马上开始朗读另一本书，我已答应这事由我来管，并带了很多书来挑选。

　　但是她不想挑，"让我来给你洗澡，小家伙。"

　　走进厨房里，我感到身上像加了一层厚布一样的闷热，但是，那不是夏日里的闷热。汉娜打开了热水炉，她让热水淌着，在里面加了几滴洗澡的香料之后给我洗澡。在那件浅蓝色的花罩裙下，她没有穿内裤。那件罩裙在潮湿的空气中贴在了汗淋淋的身上。她把我撩逗得兴奋不已。当我们做爱时，我感到她要让我体验到到目前为止所有的感受，直到我不能承受为止。她对我还从来没那么倾心过，但又不是绝对倾心，她对我从来没有绝对倾心过。但是，那情景就好像她要和我一起溺死一样。

　　"现在去你的朋友们那儿吧！"她和我告别之后，我就走了。房屋之间、田园之上都笼罩着炎热，柏油马路被晒得闪闪发光。我昏昏沉沉地去了游泳池，那里，孩子们玩耍的喊叫声、戏水的劈劈啪啪声传到了我耳中，好像来自很遥远的地方。总而言之，我好像在穿过一个不属于我的，我也不属于它的世界。我潜入了乳白色的放有氯气的水中不想再出来。我躺在其他人旁边，听着他们在谈论什么可笑的和不足挂齿的事情。

　　不知什么时候这种气氛消失了，不知什么时候，游泳池里又变得和往常一样：做作业，打排球，聊天，调情。我已记不得了，当我抬头看到她的时候我正在做什么。

　　她站在离我二十到三十米远的地方，穿着一条短裤，一件开襟的衬衫，腰间系着带子，正向我这边张望。我向她回望过去，离得太远，我看不清她的面部表情。我没有跳起来向她跑过去，我脑子里在想，她为什么在游泳池里？她是否愿意被我看见？她是否愿意我们被别人看到？我是否愿意我们被别人看到？因为我们还从未不期而遇过，我该如何是好？随后，我站了起来，就在我没有注视她的这一眨眼的工夫里，她离开了。

　　汉娜穿着短裤，一件开襟衬衫，腰间系着带子，带着我看不清的面部表情向我张望着。这也是汉娜留在我脑中的一个形象。

xhai

Chapter 17
　NEXT DAY she was gone. I came at the usual time and rang the bell. I looked through the door, everything looked the way it always did, I could hear the clock ticking.
　I sat down on the stairs once again. During our first few months, I had always known what line she was working on, even though I had never repeated my attempt to accompany her or even pick her up afterwards. At some point I had stopped asking, stopped even wondering. It hadn’t even occurred to me until now.
　I used the telephone booth at the Wilhelmsplatz to call the streetcar company, was transferred from one person to the next, and finally was told that Hanna Schmitz had not come to work. I went back to Bahnhofstrasse, asked at the carpenter’s shop in the yard for the name of the owner of the building, and got a name and address in Kirchheim. I rode over there.
　“Frau Schmitz? She moved out this morning.”
　“And her furniture?”
　“It’s not her furniture.”
　“How long did she live in the apartment?”
　“What’s it to you?” The woman who had been talking to me through a window in the door slammed it shut.
　In the administration building of the streetcar company, I talked my way through to the personnel department. The man in charge was friendly and concerned.
　“She called this morning early enough for us to arrange for a substitute, and said that she wouldn’t be coming back, period.” He shook his head. “Two weeks ago she was sitting there in your chair and I offered to have her trained as a driver, and she throws it all away.”
　It took me some days to think of going to the citizens’ registration office. She had informed them she was moving to Hamburg, but without giving an address.
　The days went by and I felt sick. I took pains to make sure my parents and my brother and sisters noticed nothing. I joined in the conversation at table a little, ate a little, and when I had to throw up, I managed to make it to the toilet. I went to school and to the swimming pool. I spent my afternoons there in an out-of-the-way place where no one would look for me. My body yearned for Hanna. But even worse than my physical desire was my sense of guilt. Why hadn’t I jumped up immediately when she stood there and run to her! This one moment summed up all my half-heartedness of the past months, which had produced my denial of her, and my betrayal. Leaving was her punishment.
　Sometimes I tried to tell myself that it wasn’t her I had seen. How could I be sure it was her when I hadn’t been able to make out the face? If it had been her, wouldn’t I have had to recognize her face? So couldn’t I be sure it wasn’t her at all?
　But I knew it was her. She stood and looked - and it was too late.


　　第17节

　　第二天她不在了。和往常的时间一样我去了她那里，按响了门铃。透过房门我看到一切依旧，听得见挂钟在滴答滴答地响。

　　我又坐在了楼梯台阶上。在最初的几个月里，我一直知道她在哪条路段工作，尽管我不再设法去陪伴她，也不再想方设法去接她。不知从什么时候起，我不再问起此事，对此不再感兴趣了。现在，我又想到这事。

　　在威廉广场的电话厅里，我给有轨电车公司打了电话。电话被转来转去，最后得知汉娜·史密芝没有去上班。我又回到了火车站街，在院子里的木工厂那儿打听到那座房子为谁所有。我得到了一个名字和地址。这样我就去了基西海姆。

　　"史密芝女士？她今天早上搬了出去。"

　　"那她的家具呢？"

　　"那不是她的家具。"

　　"她是从什么时候起住在那个房子里的？"

　　"这与您有什么关系呢？"那个透过门窗跟我说话的女人把窗户关上了。

　　在有轨电车公司的办公大楼里，我到处打听人事部。有关的一位负责人很友好，也很担忧。

　　"她今天早上打来电话，很及时，使我们有可能安排别人来代替。她说她不再来了，彻底地不来了。"他摇着头说，"十四天前，她坐在您现在的位子上，我给她提供了一次受培训当司机的机会，可她放弃了一切。"

　　几天以后，我才想起来去居民登记局。她注销了户籍去了汉堡，可没有留下地址。

　　我难受了许多天，注意着不让父母和兄弟姐妹看出来。在饭桌上，我参与他们的谈话，吃少许的东西，如果非要呕吐不可，也能忍看到了洗手间才吐出来。我去上学，去游泳池。在游泳池一个无人找得到的偏僻的角落里把下午的时间打发掉。我的(禁止)思念着汉娜，但是，比这种(禁止)的思念更严重的是我的负疚感。当她站在那儿时，我为什么没有立即跳起来向她跑过去！这件小事使我联想起了我在过去的几个月里对她的半心半意，由于这种半心半意，我否认了她，背叛了她。她的离去是对我的惩罚。

　　有时候，我企图这样开脱自己，说我看见的那个人不是她。我怎么能确信就是她呢？当时我的确没有看清楚她的脸。如果真的是她，难道我连她都认不出来吗？我真的不能确定那个人是不是她。

　　但是，我知道那个人就是她。她站在那儿，望着我。一切都晚了。

xhai

PART TWO


　Chapter 1

　A FTER HANNA left the city, it took a while before I stopped watching for her everywhere, before I got used to the fact that afternoons had lost their shape, and before I could look at books and open them without asking myself whether they were suitable for reading aloud. It took a while before my body stopped yearning for hers; sometimes I myself was aware of my arms and legs groping for her in my sleep, and my brother reported more than once at table that I had called out “Hanna” in the night. I can also remember classes at school when I did nothing but dream of her, think of her. The feeling of guilt that had tortured me in the first weeks gradually faded. I avoided her building, took other routes, and six months later my family moved to another part of town. It wasn’t that I forgot Hanna. But at a certain point the memory of her stopped accompanying me wherever I went. She stayed behind, the way a city stays behind as a train pulls out of the station. It’s there, somewhere behind you, and you could go back and make sure of it. But why should you?
　I remember my last years of school and my first years at university as happy. Yet I can’t say very much about them. They were effortless; I had no difficulty with my final exams at school or with the legal studies that I chose because I couldn’t think of anything else I really wanted to do; I had no difficulty with friendships, with relationships or the end of relationships - I had no difficulty with anything. Everything was easy; nothing weighed heavily. Perhaps that is why my bundle of memories is so small. Or do I keep it small? I also wonder if my memory of happiness is even true. If I think about it more, plenty of embarrassing and painful situations come to mind, and I know that even if I had said goodbye to my memory of Hanna, I had not overcome it. Never to let myself be humiliated or humiliate myself after Hanna, never to take guilt upon myself or feel guilty, never again to love anyone whom it would hurt to lose - I didn’t formulate any of this as I thought back then, but I know that’s how I felt.
　I adopted a posture of arrogant superiority. I behaved as if nothing could touch or shake or confuse me. I got involved in nothing, and I remember a teacher who saw through this and spoke to me about it; I was arrogantly dismissive. I also remember Sophie. Not long after Hanna left the city, Sophie was diagnosed with tuberculosis. She spent three years in a sanitorium, returning just as I went to university. She felt lonely, and sought out contact with her old friends. It wasn’t hard for me to find a way into her heart. After we slept together, she realized I wasn’t interested in her; in tears, she asked, “What’s happened to you, what’s happened to you?” I remember my grandfather during one of my last visits before his death; he wanted to bless me, and I told him I didn’t believe in any of that and didn’t want it. It is hard for me to imagine that I felt good about behaving like that. I also remember that the smallest gesture of affection would bring a lump to my throat, whether it was directed at me or at someone else. Sometimes all it took was a scene in a movie. This juxtaposition of callousness and extreme sensitivity seemed suspicious even to me.


　　第二部

　　第01节

　　汉娜离开这座城市之后，我走到哪儿都期望能见到她，这种情况持续了好长一段时间。后来我才习惯于下午没有她，我才在阅读或随便翻阅书籍时停止自问，哪些书适合朗读。过了一段时间，我的(禁止)才不再对她的(禁止)那么渴望了。有时候，我自己也注意到了我的胳膊和大腿在睡觉时是怎样地在寻摸着她。我哥哥多次在饭桌上开我的玩笑，说我在睡觉时叫喊着汉娜。我还记得我在课堂上魂不守舍，只是在想她的情景。最初几周里所具有的这种令我痛苦万分的负疚感后来消失了。我避开她住过的房子走另外的路，而且，半年后我的家搬到了另外的一个城区里。不是我把汉娜忘记了，而是不知从什么时候起对她的回忆自己停止了，不再伴随我了。回忆被留在了身后，就像一列火车继续向前行驶而把一座城市留在其后一样。它依然存在，在什么地方潜伏着，我可以随时驶向它，得到它。但是，我不必非这样做不可。

　　我记得，中学生活的最后几年和大学生活的最初几年我过得非常愉快，但是，能让我说得出的幸福又微乎其微。我没费什么力气就完成了学业，中学结业考试和出于无奈而选择的法律专业对我来说没什么了不起，友爱、情爱和离别对我来说也没什么了不起，什么都不在话下。我把一切都看得很轻，这样，一切对我来说都很轻松。也许正因为如此，记忆中的内容才如此之少。或许这种少只是我的一种感觉？我也在怀疑我现在的这种认为当年我过着幸福生活的感觉符合当年的实际吗？如果我再往前追忆的话，就会想起足以令我感到痛苦难堪的情景，我也就会意识到，虽然我告别了对汉娜的回忆，但却没有战胜它。汉娜不会使我再低三下四了，我也不会再卑躬屈膝了，我不再欠谁什么，不再感到内疚，不会再与任何人如此相爱，以至于她的离去会让我感到痛苦。当时，我对这些并没有这么清楚地思考过，但却明显地感觉到了。

　　我养成了傲慢自大、目空一切的习惯，表现得对任何事情都不闻不问，都无动于衷和不困不惑。我不参与任何事情。我还记得，有位老师对此看得很清楚。一次他与我谈起此事，我很傲慢地就把他打发掉了。我也记得索菲。在汉娜离开这座城市不久，索菲被诊断患有肺结核。她在疗养院度过了三年的光阴，在我刚上大学时她回来了。她感到孤独寂寞，在寻找与老朋友的联系，这样，我很容易就赢得了她的心。我们一起睡过觉之后，她发现我的心不在她那儿，她含着眼泪说："你怎么了，你出了什么事？'我还记得，我的祖父去世前，在我最后一次去看望他的时候，他要给我祝福，我都解释说我不信这个，它对我毫无价值。当时，我对自己的这种行为还感到沾沾自喜，现在想起来简直木可思议。我也记得，一个小小的示爱的手势，不管这手势是针对我的还是对别人的，都会让我激动得喉咙咬住。有时候，电影里面的一个情节就足以使我如此激动。我既麻木不仁又多愁善感，这甚至连我自己都难以置信。

xhai

Chapter 02
　WHEN I saw Hanna again, it was in a courtroom.
　It wasn’t the first trial dealing with the camps, nor was it one of the major ones. Our professor, one of the few at that time who were working on the Nazi past and the related trials, made it the subject of a seminar, in the hope of being able to follow the entire trial with the help of his students, and evaluate it. I can no longer remember what it was he wanted to examine, confirm, or disprove. I do remember that we argued the prohibition of retroactive追溯的 justice in the seminar. Was it sufficient that the ordinances under which the camp guards and enforcers were convicted were already on the statute books at the time they committed their crimes? Or was it a question of how the laws were actually interpreted and enforced at the time they committed their crimes, and that they were not applied to them? What is law? Is it what is on the books, or what is actually enacted and obeyed in a society? Or is law what must be enacted and obeyed, whether or not it is on the books, if things are to go right? The professor, an old gentleman who had returned from exile but remained an outsider among German legal scholars, participated in these debates with all the force of his scholarship, and yet at the same time with a detachment that no longer relied on pure scholarship to provide the solution to a problem. “Look at the defendants - you won’t find a single one who really believes he had the dispensation (permission, privilege) to murder back then.”
　The seminar began in winter, the trial in spring. It lasted for weeks. The court was in session Mondays through Thursdays, and the professor assigned a group of students to keep a word-for-word record for each day. The seminar was held on Fridays, and explored the data gathered during the preceding week.
　Exploration! Exploring the past! We students in the seminar considered ourselves radical explorers. We tore open the windows and let in the air, the wind that finally whirled away the dust that society had permitted to settle over the horrors of the past. We made sure people could breathe and see. And we placed no reliance on legal scholarship. It was evident to us that there had to be convictions. It was just as evident that conviction of this or that camp guard or enforcer was only the prelude. The generation that had been served by the guards and enforcers, or had done nothing to stop them, or had not banished them from its midst as it could have done after 1945, was in the dock被告席, and we explored it, subjected it to trial by daylight, and condemned it to shame.
　Our parents had played a variety of roles in the Third Reich. Several among our fathers had been in the war, two or three of them as officers of the Wehrmacht and one as an officer of the Waffen SS. Some of them had held positions in the judiciary or local government. Our parents also included teachers and doctors, and one of us had an uncle who had been a high official in the Ministry of the Interior. I am sure that to the extent that we asked and to the extent that they answered us, they had very different stories to tell. My father did not want to talk about himself, but I knew that he had lost his job as lecturer in philosophy for scheduling a lecture on Spinoza, and had got himself and us through the war as an editor for a house that published hiking maps and books. How did I decide that he too was under sentence of shame? But I did. We all condemned our parents to shame, even if the only charge we could bring was that after 1945 they had tolerated the perpetrators in their midst.
　We students in the seminar developed a strong group identity. We were the students of the camps - that’s how the other students described us, and how we soon came to call ourselves. What we were doing didn’t interest the others; it alienated many of them, literally repelled some. When I think about it now, I think that our eagerness to assimilate the horrors and our desire to make everyone else aware of them was in fact repulsive. The more horrible the events about which we read and heard, the more certain we became of our responsibility to enlighten and accuse. Even when the facts took our breath away, we held them up triumphantly. Look at this!
　I had enrolled in the seminar out of sheer curiosity. It was finally something new, not contracts and not property, torts or criminal law or legal method. I brought to the seminar my arrogant, superior airs. But as the winter went on, I found it harder and harder to withdraw - either from the events we read and heard about, or from the zeal that seized the students in the seminar. At first, I pretended to myself that I only wanted to participate in the scholarly debate, or its political and moral fervor. But I wanted more; I wanted to share in the general passion. The others may have found me distant and arrogant; for my part, I had the good feeling all that winter that I belonged, and that I was at peace with myself about what I was doing and the people with whom I was doing it.


　　第02节

　　我又见到汉娜是在法庭上。

　　那不是第一次对集中营罪犯的开庭审判，也不是规模很大的一次。有位教授就这次审判开了一门课，他希望借助学生们的帮助对整个审判过程进行追踪并对此加以分析。他是当时为数不多的对纳粹历史及有关的审判程序进行研究的人士之一。我已记不得了他要考查、证明或者驳斥什么。我记得在课堂上我们就禁止追加惩罚进行过讨论。根据他们犯罪时就业已存在的刑法的有关条款来审判那些集中营看守和刽子手就足够了吗？或者视其犯罪之时人们如何理解运用这些刑法条款，并要看这些条款是否也涉及到他们？什么是法？是法律条文的规定还是在社会上真正被实施和遵守的东西？或者，法就是在正常情况下必须加以实施和遵守的东西，不管它们是否已被写进法律条文？那位教授是一位流亡国外后归来的老先生，但在德国法学界仍是一位局外人。他以他的渊博学识，但同时又保持一定距离地参加了关于一些问题的讨论，不过，那些问题都是些不能靠学问解决的问题。"仔细观察一下那些被告人，您将找不出任何一个真的认为他当时可以杀人的人。"

　　我们上的那门课在冬季学期开始，法庭的审判在年初，审判持续了很长时间。从星期一到星期四法庭开庭审判。教授每天都指派了一组学生做文字记录。星期五大家坐下来讨论，把一周来的审判情况清理出来。

　　清理！清理过去！我们参加这门课的学生把自己看做是清理的先锋。在过去的可怕历史上已经积满了一层尘埃，我们用力地把窗户打开，让最终能卷起这种尘埃的风进来。但是我们还要为人们的呼吸、人们的视觉而负责。同样，我们也不完全依赖我们的法律知识。必须要进行审判，这对我们来说是确定无疑的。到目前为止，对这个或那个集中营的看守或刽子手的审判流于肤浅，这我们来说同样是确定无疑的。那些利用看守和刽子手的人，那些没有阻止他们的人，或者至少在一九四五年该揭发检举他们而没有这样做的人现在被送上了法庭。我们在清理工作中对他们进行审判，谴责他们的可耻行为。

　　我们这些人的父母在第三帝国时期扮演的角色也完全不同。有些人的父亲参加了战争，其中有两位或三位是德国国防军的军官，有一位是纳粹党卫军兵器部的军官，有几位在司法、行政机构发迹升迁。我们的父母中也有教师和医生，其中一位同学的叔叔是和帝国内政部长共事的高级官员。我敢肯定，只要我们问起他们而他们又给我们答复的话，他们所要告诉我们的会是五花八门。我的父亲不想讲他自己，但是我知道，他哲学讲师的位子是因为预告要开一门关于斯宾诺莎的深而丢掉的。做为一家出版旅游图和导游手册的出版社的编辑，他带领我们全家度过了那场战争。我怎么能谴责他是可耻的呢？但是我还是这样做了。我们都谴责我们的父母是可耻的，如果可能的话，我们还起诉他们，因为一九四五年之后他们容忍了他们周围的罪犯。

　　参加我们这门课的学生形成了一个拥有自己的明显特征的小组。起初其他学生称我们为集中营问题研究班，不久之后我们自己也如此称呼起来。对我们的所作所为，一些人不感兴趣，更多的人感到惊讶，另一些人感到反感。现在我想，我们在了解这段可怕的历史并在试图让其他人也了解这段可怕历史的过程中所表现出的热情，的确令人反感。我们读到、听到的事实真相越可怕，控诉和清理的任务也就越明确。即使是令我们窒息的事实真相，我们也要胜利地高举着它们。瞧这！

　　我报名参加这个研讨班完全是出于好奇，因为这样就可以换点其他内容了，否则一味是买卖法、犯罪和参与犯罪、德国中世纪法典或古代法律哲学。我把已经养成的傲慢自大、目空一切的习惯也带到了班上。不过，在那个冬季里，我越来越不能自拔，不是不能从我们所读、所看到的事实真相中自拔，也不是不能从研究班的学生们所表现出的热情中自拔。起初，我只想分担一点同学们的科学、政治或伦理道德方面的热情，但是，这不过是自欺而已。我越来越想更多地参与，想与他们分担全部热情。其他人可能还是觉得我仍！日与他们保持着距离，认为我高傲自大。可我在那个冬季的几个月里自我感觉不错，觉得已属于那个研究班了，觉得我了解了自己、自己所做的事和与我共事的同学。

xhai

Chapter 03
　THE TRIAL was in another town, about an hour’s drive away. I had no other reason ever to go there. Another student drove. He had grown up there and knew the place.
　It was a Thursday. The trial had begun on Monday. The first three days of proceedings had been taken up with defense motions to recuse. Our group was the fourth, and so would witness the examination of the defendants at the actual start of proceedings.
　We drove along Bergstrasse under blossoming fruit trees. We were bubbling over with exhilaration: finally we could put all our training into practice. We did not feel like mere spectators, or listeners, or recorders. Watching and listening and recording were our contributions to the exploration of history.
　The court was in a turn-of-the-century building, but devoid of the gloomy pomposity so characteristic of court buildings of the time. The room that housed the assize巡回审判court had a row of large windows down the left-hand side, with milky glass that blocked the view of the outdoors but let in a great deal of light. The prosecutors sat in front of the windows, and against the bright spring and summer daylight they were no more than black silhouettes. The court, three judges in black robes and six selected local citizens, was in place at the head of the courtroom and on the right-hand side was the bench of defendants and their lawyers: there were so many of them that the extra chairs and tables stretched into the middle of the room in front of the public seats. Some of the defendants and their lawyers were sitting with their backs to us. One of them was Hanna. I did not recognize her until she was called, and she stood up and stepped forward. Of course I recognized the name as soon as I heard it: Hanna Schmitz. Then I also recognized the body, the head with the hair gathered in an unfamiliar knot, the neck, the broad back, and the strong arms. She held herself very straight, balanced on both feet. Her arms were relaxed at her sides. She wore a gray dress with short sleeves. I recognized her, but I felt nothing. Nothing at all.
　Yes, she wished to stand. Yes, she was born on October 21, 1922, near Hermannstadt and was now forty-three years old. Yes, she had worked at Siemens in Berlin and had joined the SS in the autumn of 1943.
　“You enrolled voluntarily?
　“Yes.”
　“Why?
　Hanna did not answer.
　“Is it true that you joined the SS even though Siemens had offered you a job as a foreman?”
　Hanna’s lawyer was on his feet. “What do you mean by 'even though'? Do you mean to suggest that a woman should prefer to become a foreman at Siemens than join the SS? There are no grounds for making my client’s decision the object of such a question.”
　He sat down. He was the only young defense attorney; the others were old - some of them, as became apparent, old Nazis. Hanna’s lawyer avoided both their jargon and their lines of reasoning. But he was too hasty and too zealous in ways that were as damaging to his client as his colleagues’ Nazi tirades were to theirs. He did succeed in making the judge look irritated and stop pursuing the question of why Hanna had joined the SS. But the impression remained that she had done it of her own accord and not under pressure. It didn’t help her when one of the legal members of the court asked Hanna what kind of work she expected to do for the SS and she said that the SS was recruiting women at Siemens and other factories for guard duties and she had applied and was hired.
　To the judge’s questions, Hanna testified in monosyllables that yes, she had served in Auschwitz until early 1944 and then in a small camp near Cracow until the winter of 1944-45, that yes, when the prisoners were moved to the west she went with them all the way, that she was in Kassel at the end of the war and since then had lived in one place and another. She had been in my city for eight years; it was the longest time she had spent in any one place.
　“Is her frequent change of residence supposed to be grounds for viewing her as a flight risk?” The lawyer was openly sarcastic. “My client registered with the police each time she arrived at a new address and each time she left. There is no reason to assume she would run away, and there is nothing for her to hide. Did the judge feel it impossible to release my client on her own recognizance保证书, 保释金 because of the gravity of the charges and the risk of public agitation? That, members of the court, is a Nazi rationale基本原理 for custody; it was introduced by the Nazis and abolished after the Nazis. It no longer exists.” The lawyer’s malicious emphasis underlined the irony in this truth.
　I was jolted. I realized that I had assumed it was both natural and right that Hanna should be in custody. Not because of the charges, the gravity of the allegations, or the force of the evidence, of which I had no real knowledge yet, but because in a cell she was out of my world, out of my life. I wanted her far away from me, so unattainable that she could continue as the mere memory she had become and remained all these years. If the lawyer was successful, I would have to prepare myself to meet her again, and I would have to work out how I wanted to do that, and how it should be. And I could see no reason why he should fail. If Hanna had not tried to escape the law so far, why should she try now? And what evidence could she suppress? There were no other legal reasons at that time to hold someone in custody.
　The judge seemed irritated again, and I began to realize that this was his particular trick. Whenever he found a statement either obstructionist or annoying, he took off his glasses, stared at the speaker with a blank, short-sighted gaze, frowned, and either ignored the statement altogether or began with “So you mean” or “So what you’re trying to say is” and then repeated what had been said in a way as to leave no doubt that he had no desire to deal with it and that trying to compel him to do so would be pointless.
　“So you’re saying that the arresting judge misinterpreted the fact that the defendant ignored all letters and summonses, and did not present herself either to the police, or the prosecutor, or the judge? You wish to make a motion to lift the order of detention?”
　The lawyer made the motion and the court denied it.

　　第03节

　　法庭的审理在另外的一个城市里进行，开车去那里需要近一个小时的时间。此前，我与那个城市从未发生什么关系。另外一位同学开车，他是在那里长大的，对那里的情况非常熟悉。

　　那是一个星期四。法庭的审理在星期一就开始了，前三天的审理时间都用于辩护律师为辩护人提申请。我们第四组将要经历的是法庭对被告人的直接审理、这将是法庭审理的真正开始。

　　我们轻松愉快，情绪高涨地沿着山路在盛开的果树下面行驶。我们的所学总算有用武之地了，我们感觉自己不仅仅是观众、听众和记录员，观审、听审和做记录是我们对清理工作所做的一份贡献。

　　这座法庭是一座世纪之交的建筑，但又没有当时法庭建筑所常有的富丽堂皇和睦俄昏暗。刑事陪审法庭开庭的大厅里，左边是一排大窗户，乳白色的玻璃挡住了人们从里向外张望的视线，但却挡不住从外面照射进来的光线。检察官们坐在窗前，在明媚的春天和夏日里人们只能辨认出他们的轮廓。法庭上坐着三位身着黑色长袍的法官和六位陪审员。他们坐在大厅的正面，在他们右侧的长椅上坐着被告人和辩护律师。由于人数众多，桌椅一直摆到大厅中间，摆到了观众席前。有几位被告和辩护律师背对着我们坐着，其中就有汉娜。当她被传唤，站起来走向前面时，我才认出她来。当然，我立即就听出了她的名字：汉娜·史密芝。随后我也辨认出了她的形体，她的头，她的脖颈，她的宽阔的后背和她那强健有力的手臂，令我感到陌生的是那盘起来的头发。她站在那儿，挺着胸，两腿纹丝不动，手臂松弛下垂，穿着一件蓝色的短袖上衣。我认出了她，但是，我什么感觉都没有，我什么感觉都没有。

　　当法官问到她是否愿意站着时，她说是；当问她是否于一九二二年十月二十一日在赫尔曼市附近的一个地方出生，现年四十三岁时，她说是；当问她是否在柏林的西门子公司工作过并于一九四三年秋去了党卫队时，她说是。

　　"您是自愿去党卫队的吗？"

　　"是的。"

　　"为什么？"

　　汉娜没有回答。

　　"尽管西门子给您提供了一个做领班的职位，您还是去了党卫队，对吗？"

　　汉娜的辩护律师跳了起来："尽管'在这里是什么意思？这不就是假设一个女人应该更喜欢在西门子做个领班而不应该去党卫队吗？您没有任何理由就我的委托人的决定提出这样的问题。"

　　他坐下了。他是谁一的一位年轻的辩护人，其他人都上了年纪，有几位很快就暴露出来是老纳粹。汉娜的辩护人制止了他们使用隐语和推论。但是，他很急躁，这对他的委托人非常不利，就像他的同事们的满口纳粹论调对他们的委托人也十分不利一样。尽管他的话让审判长看上去不知所措，使他对汉娜为什么去了党卫队这个问题不再刨根问底，但是他的话给人留下一个印象，那就是，她去党卫队是经过深思熟虑的，并非迫不得已。一位陪审法官问了汉娜想在党卫队里做什么工作。汉娜解释说，党卫队在西门子和其他工厂征聘女工做替补看守，这样，她就报了名，并被录用了。尽管她做了这样的解释，但是，人们对她的不佳印象已无法改变了。

　　审判长要求汉娜用是与否来证实下列问题：是否直到一九四四年年初一直在奥斯威辛，是否于一九四四年与一九四五年之交的冬天被派往克拉科夫一所小集中营，与那里的被关押者一起西行并到达了目的地，是否在战争结束时到过卡塞尔，是否从那以后经常更换居住地。她在我的家乡住了八年，那是她居住时间最长的一个地方。

　　"经常更换居住地就能证明有逃跑的嫌疑吗？"辩护律师用很明显的讽刺口吻问道。"我的委托人每次更换居住地都在警察局登记和注销户籍。没有任何迹象说明她要逃跑，她也掩饰不了任何事情。逮捕法官认为我的委托人受到的指控严重，面临引起公愤的危险，他感到无法容忍。难道这可以成为剥夺她人身自由的理由吗？我尊敬的法官先生，这是纳粹时期抓人的理由，是纳粹时盛行的做法，纳粹之后被废除了，这种做法现在早已不存在了。"辩护律师说话时带有一种人们在兜售下流故事时所表现的不良用心和洋洋得意。

　　我对此感到震惊。我发现，我认为逮捕汉娜是自然的和理所当然的，不是因为人们对她提出了控告、严重谴责和强烈怀疑——关于这些我还一点不知详情，而是因为把她关在单人牢房里她就会从我的世界中，从我的生活中消失。我想离她远远的，让她远不可及，让在过去几年里成为我生活中的一部分的她变成一种记忆，仅仅是一种记忆。如果辩护律师成功的话，那就意味着我必须做好再次见到她的准备，我就必须使自己清楚我是否见她和如何见她。而且，我看不出他怎么能不成功。如果汉娜到目前为止没有企图逃跑，那么她为什么现在要去这么做呢？她能掩饰什么呢？这恰是逮捕她的一个理由。

　　审判长看上去又不知所措了。我发现这是他的一个计策。每当他认为某种意见具有阻碍性和令他感到不愉快时，他就摘掉眼镜，用近视的、不肯定的目光打量着发表意见的人，同时皱着眉头，或者避而不谈已经发表的意见，或者开始这样发问："您的意思是……"或"您是想说……"并用另一种方式重述一遍别人发表的意见，让人确实感到他对此不感兴趣，同时也使人相信逼他是没用的。

　　"您的意思是逮捕官错误地估计了下面的情况：被告人没有对书面的传讯做出反应，没有去找警察局、检查院和法官？您是想提交一份撤销逮捕令的报告吗？"

　　辩护律师提交了一份这样的报告，被法庭驳回了。

xhai

Chapter 04

　I DID NOT miss a single day of the trial. The other students were surprised. The professor was pleased that one of us was making sure that the next group learned what the last one had heard and seen.
　Only once did Hanna look at the spectators and over at me. Usually she was brought in by a guard and took her place and then kept her eyes fixed on the bench throughout the day’s proceedings. It appeared arrogant, as did the fact that she didn’t talk to the other defendants and almost never with her lawyer either. However, as the trial went on, the other defendants talked less among themselves too. When there were breaks in the proceedings, they stood with relatives and friends, and in the mornings they waved and called hello to them when they saw them in the public benches. During the breaks Hanna remained in her seat.
　So I watched her from behind. I saw her head, her neck, her shoulders. I decoded her head, her neck, her shoulders. When she was being discussed, she held her head very erect. When she felt she was being unjustly treated, slandered, or attacked and she was struggling to respond, she rolled her shoulders forward and her neck swelled, showing the play of muscles. The objections were regularly overruled, and her shoulders regularly sank. She never shrugged, and she never shook her head. She was too keyed up to allow herself anything as casual as a shrug or a shake of the head. Nor did she allow herself to hold her head at an angle, or to let it fall, or to lean her chin on her hand. She sat as if frozen. It must have hurt to sit that way.
　Sometimes strands of hair slipped out of the tight knot, began to curl, lay on the back of her neck, and moved gently against it in the draft. Sometimes Hanna wore a dress with a neckline low enough to reveal the birthmark high on her left shoulder. Then I remembered how I had blown the hair away from that neck and how I had kissed that birthmark and that neck. But the memory was like a retrieved file. I felt nothing.
　During the weeks of the trial, I felt nothing: my feelings were numbed. Sometimes I poked at them, and imagined Hanna doing what she was accused of doing as clearly as I could, and also doing what the hair on her neck and the birthmark on her shoulder recalled to my mind. It was like a hand pinching an arm numbed by an injection. The arm doesn’t register that it is being pinched by the hand, the hand registers that it is pinching the arm, and at first the mind cannot tell the two of them apart. But a moment later it distinguishes them quite clearly. Perhaps the hand has pinched so hard that the flesh stays white for a while. Then the blood flows back and the spot regains its color. But that does not bring back sensation.
　Who had given me the injection? Had I done it myself, because I couldn’t manage without anesthesia? The anesthetic functioned not only in the courtroom, and not only to allow me to see Hanna as if it was someone else who had loved and desired her, someone I knew well but who wasn’t me. In every part of my life, too, I stood outside myself and watched; I saw myself functioning at the university, with my parents and brother and sister and my friends, but inwardly I felt no involvement.
　After a time I thought I could detect a similar numbness in other people. Not in the lawyers, who carried on throughout the trial with the same rhetorical legalistic pugnacity, jabbing pedantry, or loud, calculated truculence, depending on their personalities and their political standpoint. Admittedly the trial proceedings exhausted them; in the evenings they were tired and got more shrill. But overnight they recharged or reinflated themselves and droned and hissed away the next morning just as they had twenty-four hours before. The prosecutors made an effort to keep up and display the same level of attack day after day. But they didn’t succeed, at first because the facts and their outcome as laid out at the trial horrified them so much, and later because the numbness began to take hold. The effect was strongest on the judges and the lay members of the court. During the first weeks of the trial they took in the horrors - sometimes recounted in tears, sometimes in choking voices, sometimes in agitated or broken sentences - with visible shock or obvious efforts at self-control. Later their faces returned to normal; they could smile and whisper to one another or even show traces of impatience when a witness lost the thread while testifying. When going to Israel to question a witness was discussed, they started getting the travel bug. The other students kept being horrified all over again. They only came to the trial once a week, and each time the same thing happened: the intrusion of horror into daily life. I, who was in court every day, observed their reactions with detachment.
　It was like being a prisoner in the death camps who survives month after month and becomes accustomed to the life, while he registers with an objective eye the horror of the new arrivals: registers it with the same numbness that he brings to the murders and deaths themselves. All survivor literature talks about this numbness, in which life’s functions are reduced to a minimum, behavior becomes completely selfish and indifferent to others, and gassing and burning are everyday occurrences. In the rare accounts by perpetrators, too, the gas chambers and ovens become ordinary scenery, the perpetrators reduced to their few functions and exhibiting a mental paralysis and indifference, a dullness that makes them seem drugged or drunk. The defendants seemed to me to be trapped still, and forever, in this drugged state, in a sense petrified in it.
　Even then, when I was preoccupied by this general numbness, and by the fact that it had taken hold not only of the perpetrators and victims, but of all of us, judges and lay members of the court, prosecutors and recorders, who had to deal with these events now; when I likened (compare to) perpetrators, victims, the dead, the living, survivors, and their descendants to each other, I didn’t feel good about it and I still don’t.
　Can one see them all as linked in this way? When I began to make such comparisons in discussions, I always emphasized that the linkage was not meant to relativize the difference between being forced into the world of the death camps and entering it voluntarily, between enduring suffering and imposing it on others, and that this difference was of the greatest, most critical importance. But I met with shock and indignation when I said this not in reaction to the others’ objections, but before they had even had the chance to demur提出异议; 抗辩; 反对.
　At the same time I ask myself, as I had already begun to ask myself back then: What should our second generation have done, what should it do with the knowledge of the horrors of the extermination of the Jews? We should not believe we can comprehend the incomprehensible, we may not compare the incomparable, we may not inquire because to inquire is to make the horrors an object of discussion, even if the horrors themselves are not questioned, instead of accepting them as something in the face of which we can only fall silent in revulsion, shame, and guilt. Should we only fall silent in revulsion, shame, and guilt? To what purpose? It was not that I had lost my eagerness to explore and cast light on things which had filled the seminar, once the trial got under way. But that some few would be convicted and punished while we of the second generation were silenced by revulsion, shame, and guilt - was that all there was to it now?


　　第04节

　　法庭的审理我一天都没有错过，其他同学对此感到奇怪，教授对此表示赞赏，因为，这样一来，我们当中就有了一位能把上一组同学的所见所闻传达给下一组同学的人。

　　只有一次汉娜向观众和我这边看了看，否则的话，在所有审理的日子里，当她被一位女看守带进来时和坐下之后，她都把目光投向法庭的长椅上。这使她看上去很傲慢，同样使她显得傲慢的是她与其他被告人不交谈，与她的辩护律师也几乎不说什么。不过，法庭审理持续时间越长，其他被告人之间的交谈也越少。他们在法庭中间休息时与亲朋好友站在一起交谈，早上在观众席上看到他们时，向他们招手呼唤。汉娜在法庭休息时仍旧留在她的座位上。

　　这样一来我只能从后面看她。我可以看到她的头、她的脖颈和肩膀。我研究她的头、她的脖颈和她的肩。如果事情与她有关时，她会把头抬得特别高。当她感到受到了不公平的对待时，或遭到了诽谤中伤和攻击时，或吃力地回答问题时，她都把肩往前探，脖颈青筋就暴涨起来。她的反驳总是不成功，她的肩也就总是又垂下来。她从未耸过肩，也从未摇过头。她太紧张了，以至于连耸肩、摇头所要求的轻松自如的动作都做不到。她也不允许自己把头偏着，也不允许自己低头或者靠着。她僵硬地坐着，这种坐姿一定很痛苦。

　　有时候，一咎头发慢慢地从她的发夹中掉出来，卷曲在一起垂在脖颈上，在穿堂风中来回飘摆。有时候汉娜穿一件连衣裙，它的领口很大，以致她左肩膀上面的一块胎痣都露了出来。这使我想起我把她脖颈上的头发吹开然后去亲吻那块股清、亲吻她的脖颈的情景。但是，这种回忆只是一种记忆而已，我什么感觉都没有。

　　在持续了几周长的法庭审理期间，我什么感觉都没有，我的感觉就像麻木了一样。我也偶尔刺激过它，尽可能十分清楚地去想象汉娜被指控的那些行为，同时我也去回想她脖颈上的头发和她肩膀上的那块胎痣。结果就像用手拖了一下打了(被禁止)的胳膊一样，胳膊不知道被手掐了一下，而手却知道它把胳膊掐了，大脑起初也分不清这两种感觉，但下一步就把二者分得十分清楚了。也许手用力太大，被掐的地方一时会苍白无血色，过了一会儿血液才流通，被掐的地方才又恢复了血色，但是，感觉却没有随之回来。

　　是谁给我打了(被禁止)呢？是我自己，因为若不麻木不仁的话，我能承受得了吗？这种麻木不仁不仅仅在法庭的大厅里起作用，它不仅仅使我能够面对汉娜——我好像不是我，而是我的一位熟人，一位爱过她、渴望过她的熟人，它还使我与我身边所有的人都相处得平平淡淡，不论是在大学里的与朋友相处，还是在家里的与父母及兄弟姐妹相处。

　　过了一段时间，我发现，类似的麻木不仁在其他人身上也可以观察到，但在辩护律师身上你观察不到这种麻木不仁。在整个审理期间，他们始终是吵吵闹闹、非常自负地争高争低，有时过分尖刻，有时大吵大闹、厚颜无耻，其程度根据个人气质和政治素质而有所不同。虽然审理已使他们精疲力竭，使他们到了晚上也疲惫不堪或者声音更尖锐刺耳，可是经过一夜的养精蓄锐，他们第二天又和前一天一样，吵吵嚷嚷地上阵了。那些法官也并不示弱，每天都斗志昂扬。但他们并没有达到预期结果，这首先因为审理对象和结果太使他们震惊，而后麻木不仁又开始发挥了作用。这种麻木不仁在审判员和陪审员身上体现得最明显。在最初几周的审理中，当他们听到那些可怕的事实时，明显地表现出震惊或者强做镇定自若：有时讲述人泪流满面，有时泣不成声，有时非常具有煽动性，有时又偶然若失。后来，他们的面部表情就又趋于正常了。他们相互之间也能笑着在对方的耳边低声评论什么，或者当一位证人事无巨细地做证时，他们也开始不耐烦地叹气。在审理期间，当需要到以色列一位女证人那儿取证的消息被公布时，人人争先恐后。其他同学总是被新的事实所震惊，他们每周只来一次法庭，每次都要面对可怕的历史打破他们的日常生活的事实。我却日复一日地留在法庭，冷眼旁观他们的反应。

　　集中营的囚犯如何才能一个月接着一个月地活过来，如何才能适应自己，如何才能对新来囚犯的惊恐万状冷眼视之呢？麻木不仁！他们以同样的麻木不仁对待杀人和死亡。那些幸存者留下的所有文字材料都记载了这种麻木不仁。这种麻木不仁削弱了生命的作用，使不法行为肆无忌惮，使用毒气杀人和焚烧人的行为变成了家常便饭。在那些罪犯寥寥数语的说明中可以看到，他们也把毒气室和焚烧炉看做是日常生活，把他们自己的作用看得很轻，把他们的肆无忌惮和冷漠无情视为一种像被注射了(被禁止)或喝醉了酒一样的麻痹状态。在我眼里，那些被告人好像仍！日而且永久地被束缚在这种麻木不仁中，在某种程度上，他们已变成了化石。

　　当我对这种麻木不仁的共性进行研究时，当我不仅仅研究罪犯和受害者身上的麻木不仁，而且也对我们这些人——法官、陪审员、检查官和记录员，这些后来与此有关人员的麻木不仁进行研究时，当我把罪犯、受害者、死亡者、活着的人、幸存者和永垂不朽者相互进行比较时，我就感觉不舒服，过去感觉不舒服，现在仍然感觉不舒服。允许人们做这样的比较吗？当我在发言中做这样的比较时，我虽然总是强调不应该抹杀罪犯是被迫去集中营还是自愿去的这两者之间的区别，以及是他们自己在忍受痛苦还是给别人带来痛苦这两者之间的区别——相反，我们应该特别强调这种区别的重要性，但是，我总是引火烧身——引起别人的震惊和愤怒，如果我的这种观点不是针对其他人的指责所做出的一种反应，而是在他们尚未对我进行指责之前就提出来的话。我现在自问——当时我就已经开始对自己提出这样的问题：我们这代人应该如何对待屠杀犹太人的那段可怕的历史观？我们不应该认为我们能理解无法理解的事情，不应该去比较无法比较的事情，也不应该去询问，因为询问者本人把那可怕的过去变成了一种谈话的题材。虽然他们对那可怕的过去毫不怀疑，但却不把它视为骇人听闻的奇耻大辱和弥天大罪。我们应该仅仅停留在这种耻辱感和负疚感上吗？为什么？我之所以这样自问，不是因为我参加研究班时所拥有的那种清理和解释过去的热情在法庭审理期间消失殆尽了，但是，仅仅审判和惩罚少数几个人，我们肇事者的后代也仅仅感到那段历史是骇人听闻的奇耻大辱和弥天大罪，就可以了吗？

xhai

Chapter 05
　IN THE SECOND week, the indictment was read out. It took a day and a half to read - a day and a half in the subjunctive假设的, 虚拟语气的. The first defendant is alleged to have ... Furthermore she is alleged ... In addition, she is alleged ... Thus she comes under the necessary conditions of paragraph so-and-so, furthermore she is alleged to have committed this and that act ... She is alleged to have acted illegally and culpably. Hanna was the fourth defendant.
　The five accused women had been guards in a small camp near Cracow, a satellite camp for Auschwitz. They had been transferred there from Auschwitz in early 1944 to replace guards killed or injured in an explosion in the factory where the women in the camp worked. One count of the indictment involved their conduct at Auschwitz, but that was of minor significance compared with the other charges. I no longer remember it. Was it because it didn’t involve Hanna, but only the other women? Was it of minor importance in relation to the other counts, or minor, period? Did it simply seem inexcusable to have someone available for trial who had been in Auschwitz and not charge them about their conduct in Auschwitz?
　Of course the five defendants had not been in charge of the camp. There was a commandant, plus special troops, and other female guards. Most of the troops and guards had not survived the bombing raid that put an end one night to the prisoners’ westward march. Some fled the same night, and vanished as surely as the commandant, who had made himself scarce as soon as the column of prisoners set off on the forced march to the west.
　None of the prisoners should, by rights, have survived the night of the bombing. But two did survive, a mother and her daughter, and the daughter had written a book about the camp and the march west and published it in America. The police and prosecutors had tracked down not only the five defendants but several witnesses who had lived in the village which had taken the bombing hits that ended the death march. The most important witnesses were the daughter, who had come to Germany, and the mother, who had remained in Israel. To depose宣誓作证 the mother the court, prosecutors, and defense lawyers were going to go to Israel - the only part of the trial I did not attend.
　One main charge concerned selections in the camp. Each month around sixty new women were sent out from Auschwitz and the same number was sent back, minus those who had died in the meantime. It was clear to everyone that the women would be killed in Auschwitz; it was those who could no longer perform useful work in the factory who were sent back. The factory made munitions; the actual work was not difficult, but the women hardly ever got to do the actual work, because they had to do raw construction to repair the devastating damage caused by the explosion early in the year.
　The other main charge involved the night of the bombing that ended everything. The troops and guards had locked the prisoners, several hundred women, in a church in a village that had been abandoned by most of its inhabitants. Only a few bombs fell, possibly intended for the nearby railroad or a factory, or maybe simply released because they were left over from a raid on a larger town. One of them hit the priest’s house in which the troops and guards were sleeping. Another landed on the church steeple. First the steeple burned, then the roof; then the blazing rafters collapsed into the nave, and the pews caught fire. The heavy doors were unbudgeable. The defendants could have unlocked them. They did not, and the women locked in the church burned to death.


　　第05节

　　第二周，法庭宣读起诉书。宣读起诉书用了一天半的时间，使用了一天半的虚拟式。被告首先犯有……此外她犯有……再有她犯有……因此她触犯了某条某款，此外她犯有这种罪行和那种罪行，她的行为是违法的和犯罪的。汉娜是第四名被告人。

　　这五名被告都是克拉科夫一所小集中营的女看守。克拉科夫是奥斯威辛的一个外围集中营。一九四四年春，她们从奥斯威辛被派往那里。她们是代替在一家工厂的爆炸中被炸死或者炸伤的女看守们。在那家工厂里，集中营里的女囚犯们要做工。指控之一是被告们在奥斯威辛的行为，不过，与另一项指控相比，这一指控又显得不那么重要了。我已不记得另一项指控是什么了。它们与汉娜毫无关系而只涉及到另外几位女看守吗？难道与另一项指控相比对奥斯威辛的指控就不重要了吗？或者它本身就不重要？一个在奥斯威辛呆过并由此而被捕的人却不是因为他在奥斯威辛的行为而遭到指控，这不显得令人难以容忍吗？

　　当然了，这五名被告并不是那所集中营的头头。集中营有一名指挥官，一个警卫队还有其他女看守。一天夜里，囚犯们被赶着西行，途中遭到轰炸，大部分警卫队的人和女看守在轰炸中丧了生，有几位当天夜里开了小差，而指挥官出发不久就逃得无影无踪了。

　　那些囚犯在那天晚上的轰炸中本不该有任何人能活下来，但是还是有一对母女活了下来。那位女儿写了一本关于集中营和那次西行的书，并在美国付样。警察和检查院不仅找到了这五名被告，而且还找到了几位证人，西行队伍在一个村子遭到轰炸时他们就住在那个村子里。最重要的证人就是那位女儿和她的留在以色列的母亲。女儿专程来到了德国。为了向她的母亲取证，法庭、检查官和辩护人去了以色列。那是审理过程中我唯一没经历到的一个片段。

　　最主要的一项指控是在集中营中进行的挑选。每个月大约有六十名妇女被送出奥斯威辛，同样也有这个数目的妇女被送进来，这个数目不包括在这期间死掉的。所有的人都清楚，这些妇女在奥斯威辛将被杀掉，这些被送进来的都是在工厂里木能再做工的。那是一家弹药厂，尽管弹药厂本身的工作并不繁重，但是在那家弹药厂里，妇女们几乎没做她们本该做的工作，而是要参加建筑，因为年初的一次爆炸使工厂遭到严重破坏。

　　另一项重要指控涉及那个遭到轰炸的夜晚，一切都结束于那一夜。警卫队和女看守们一起把好几百号的女囚徒关在了一个村子的教堂里。大部分村民已经逃离。没有落下几枚炸弹，轰炸的目标也许是附近的火车道，或者一座工厂，也许是在空袭一座大城市之后还剩几枚炸弹，于是随意乱投下一枚炸弹刚好击中了警卫队和女看守们过夜的牧师住宅，另一枚炸弹落到了教堂的塔上。起初是搭着了火，接着是教堂的房顶，然后教堂的全部屋梁火光冲天地塌陷到了教堂的里面，于是，教堂里面的全部椅子都开始着火。沉重的大门纹丝不动。那些被告完全可以把门打开，但是她们没有这样做，那些被关在教堂里的妇女都被烧死了。

xhai

Chapter 06
　THE TRIAL could not have gone any worse for Hanna. She had already made a bad impression on the court during the preliminary questioning. After the indictment had been read out, she spoke up to say that something was incorrect; the presiding judge rebuked her irritably, telling her that she had had plenty of time before the trial to study the charges and register objections; now the trial was in progress and the evidence would show what was correct and incorrect. When the presiding judge proposed at the beginning of the actual testimony that the German version of the daughter’s book not be read into the record, as it had been prepared for publication by a German publisher and the manuscript made available to all participants in the trial, Hanna had to be argued into it by her lawyer under the exasperated eyes of the judge. She did not willingly agree. She also did not want to acknowledge that she had admitted, in an earlier deposition, to having had the key to the church. She had not had the key, no one had had the key, there had not been any one key to the church, but several keys to several different doors, and they had all been left outside in the locks. But the court record of her examination by the judge, approved and signed by her, read differently, and the fact that she asked why they were trying to hang something on her did not make matters any better. She didn’t ask loudly or arrogantly, but with determination, and, I think, in visible and audible confusion and helplessness, and the fact that she spoke of others trying to hang something on her did not mean she was claiming any miscarriage of justice by the court. But the presiding judge interpreted it that way and responded sharply. Hanna’s lawyer leapt to his feet and let loose, overeagerly; he was asked whether he was agreeing with his client’s accusations, and sat down again.
　Hanna wanted to do the right thing. When she thought she was being done an injustice, she contradicted it, and when something was rightly claimed or alleged, she acknowledged it. She contradicted vigorously and admitted willingly, as though her admissions gave her the right to her contradictions or as though, along with her contradictions, she took on a responsibility to admit what she could not deny. But she did not notice that her insistence annoyed the presiding judge. She had no sense of context, of the rules of the game, of the formulas by which her statements and those of the others were toted up into guilt and innocence, conviction and acquittal. To compensate for her defective grasp of the situation, her lawyer would have had to have more experience and self-confidence, or simply to have been better. But Hanna should not have made things so hard for him; she was obviously withholding her trust from him, but had not chosen another lawyer she trusted more. Her lawyer was a public defender appointed by the court.
　Sometimes Hanna achieved her own kind of success. I remember her examination on the selections in the camp. The other defendants denied ever having had anything to do with them. Hanna admitted so readily that she had participated - not alone, but just like the others and along with them - that the judge felt he had to probe further.
　“What happened at the selections?”
　Hanna described how the guards had agreed among themselves to tally the same number of prisoners from their six equal areas of responsibility, ten each and sixty in all, but that the figures could fluctuate when the number of sick was low in one person’s area of responsibility and high in another’s, and that all the guards on duty had decided together who was to be sent back.
　“None of you held back, you all acted together?”
　“Yes.”
　“Did you not know that you were sending the prisoners to their death?”
　“Yes, but the new ones came, and the old ones had to make room for the new ones.”
　“So because you wanted to make room, you said you and you and you have to be sent back to be killed?”
　Hanna didn’t understand what the presiding judge was getting at.
　“I ... I mean ... so what would you have done?” Hanna meant it as a serious question. She did not know what she should or could have done differently, and therefore wanted to hear from the judge, who seemed to know everything, what he would have done.
　Everything was quiet for a moment. It is not the custom at German trials for defendants to question the judge. But now the question had been asked, and everyone was waiting for the judge’s answer. He had to answer; he could not ignore the question or brush it away with a reprimand or a dismissive counterquestion. It was clear to everyone, it was clear to him too, and I understood why he had adopted an expression of irritation as his defining feature. It was his mask. Behind it, he could take a little time to find an answer. But not too long; the longer he took, the greater the tension and expectation, and the better his answer had to be.
　“There are matters one simply cannot get drawn into, that one must distance oneself from, if the price is not life and limb.”
　Perhaps this would have been all right if he had said the same thing, but referred directly to Hanna or himself. Talking about what “one” must and must not do and what it costs did not do justice to the seriousness of Hanna’s question. She had wanted to know what she should have done in her particular situation, not that there are things that are not done. The judge’s answer came across as hapless and pathetic. Everyone felt it. They reacted with sighs of disappointment and stared in amazement at Hanna, who had more or less won the exchange. But she herself was lost in thought.
　“So should I have ... should I have not ... should I not have signed up at Siemens?”
　It was not a question directed at the judge. She was talking out loud to herself, hesitantly, because she had not yet asked herself that question and did not know whether it was the right one, or what the answer was.


　　第06节

　　法庭审理对汉娜来说糟得不能再糟了。在审问她个人情况时，她就没给法庭留下什么好印象。起诉书宣读完之后，她要求发言，因为她认为有些事不属实。审判长愤怒地驳回了她。他说，在刑事诉讼主要程序开始之前，她已有足够的时间研究起诉书，而且可以提出反对意见，现在人们已进入了主要程序，起诉书中起诉的事属实不属实，要由听证来决定。听证开始时，审判长建议放弃朗读那位女儿写的那本书的德文版本，因为有家德国出版社正准备出版此书，所有与此有关的人都已经人手一本草稿。审判长恼怒的目光注视着汉娜，他让其辩护律师说服她，使她同意这样做。汉娜不同意。她也不想接受那种认为她在一次初审中承认过她曾经拿到过教堂的钥匙的说法。她说，她没有拿过那把钥匙，没有人拿过那把钥匙，根本就没有开教堂的一把钥匙，而是有好多把开好多门的钥匙，它们都插在门外的锁眼里。但是，在一份审判员的审讯记录中所记载的情况却是另外一个样子，那份记录由她本人阅读过并签了字。她问人们为什么要把这件事强加于她，但这丝毫无济于事。她问得声音不大，听起来并不自以为是，但却很固执。就像我感觉到的那样，她感到困惑不解和无可奈何。她说人们强加于她时，并不是谴责他们这样做违反了法律。但是，审判长先生却是这样理解的，而且反应强烈。汉娜的辩护律师急忙跳起来，热心地为她辩护。当他被问到他是否想把人们对他的委托人的谴责据为己有时，他又坐了下来。

　　汉娜想要讨个公道。她认为她被冤枉的地方，她就提出抗议；如果她认为别人对她的谴责公正的话，她也接受。她有时固执地抗议，有时心甘情愿地承认，好像她要通过承认来获得抗议的权利，或者通过抗议的方式来承认她正常情况下无法争辩的事情。但是，她没有注意到她的固执惹恼了审判长。她对前后关系没有概念，对游戏规则没有概念，对自己的和别人的表达方式都没有概念，不知有罪或无罪，判刑或释放往往取决于表达方式。为了弥补她的这种缺陷，她的辩护律师必须是个经验丰富、沉着自信或者高人一筹的高手才行。或许汉娜不该那样难为他，她明显地表现出对他的不信任，但她没有能选择她所信赖的律师。她的律师是由审判长为她指定的，他有义务、有责任为她进行辩护。

　　有时汉娜也能取得某种胜利。我还记得对她在集中营里挑选囚犯这一问题所进行的审讯。其他被告用某时某刻做了某事来否认参与了此事，汉娜却心甘情愿地承认参与了此事，但她说她不是惟一的一个，而是像其他人一样，和其他人一起参与了此事。这样一来，审判长就不得不逼问她。

　　"挑选是如何进行的？"

　　汉娜描述道，她们几位女看守取得了一致意见，从她们六人所主管的同样大小的范围内，选出同等数目的囚犯，也就是说，每人选出十名，总共为六十名。但是，被选出的人数在低发病的情况下和高发病的情况下要有所木同。这样，所有当班的女看守最后要一起决定谁该被送回去。

　　"你们当中没有人回避此事，您所讲的包括所有的人吗？"

　　"是的。"

　　"难道您不知道您是送那些囚犯去死吗？"

　　"当然是知道的，可是新的要来，先来的必须要给后来的让地方。"

　　"因为要腾地方，您是这样说的吧：你，你，还有你就必须被送回去杀掉吗？"

　　汉娜没有弄明白审判长想以此问什么问题。

　　"我有……我认为……要是您的话，您会怎么做呢？"汉娜是把这个问题作为一个严肃问题提出来的。她不知道她该怎样做，又能怎么做。因此她想听一听看上去广见多识的审判长该怎样做。

　　一时，大厅里鸦雀无声。被告人向审判长提问题不合乎德国的刑事审判程序。但是，现在问题被提出来了，而且所有的人都在等着审判长的回答。他必须回答，不能避开问题或者做非难性的评论或者用反问的方式拒绝回答。每个人都清楚，他自己也明白，我也明白了他做出恼怒的表情的诡计。恼怒的表情给他戴上了一副假面具，在这副假面具的背后，他为自己回答问题赢得了一点时间，但是没有太多的时间，他拖延的时间越长，人们的期待就越大，气氛就越紧张，而他的回答就必须越好。

　　"有些事情人们根本就不该做，如果不去做不会要命的话，人们就必须回避。"

　　假如他说汉娜或者他自己如何做，也许就足够了。只谈论人们必须做什么，不允许做什么和人们做什么要付出什么代价，这与汉娜提出的问题的严肃性不相符。她想知道的是处在她当时的情况下，她应该怎样做，而不是有什么事情人们不可以做。审判长的回答显得无可奈何，毫无分量。在座的人都有同感。大家都很失望地深深地呼了口气，惊奇地望着在某种程度上赢得了这场舌战的汉娜。但是，汉娜本人仍在沉思。

　　"那么，我要是……没有……如果我不能在西门子公司报名呢？"

　　那不是向法官提出的问题。她在自言自语，她在犹豫不定地自问，因为她还没有把这个问题提出来。她在怀疑这个问题的正确性，在寻找它的答案。