THE MARK ON THE WALL

《墻上的斑點》發表于1919年，為伍爾夫的第一部意識流小說。小說描寫主人公在一個普通日子的平常瞬間，抬頭看見墻上的斑點，由此引發意識的飄逸流動，產生一系列幻覺和遐想。主人公一會由斑點聯想到釘痕、掛肖像的前任房客；一會從對斑點的疑惑聯想到生命的神秘、思想的不準確性和人類的無知；一會從猜測斑點是一個凸出的圓形聯想到一座古象，進而想到憂傷、白骨和考古…

Perhaps it was the middle of January in the present that I first looked up and saw the mark on the wall. In order to fix a date it is necessary to remember what one saw. So now I think of the fire; the steady film of yellow light upon the page of my book; the three chrysanthemums in the round glass bowl on the mantelpiece. Yes, it must have been the winter time, and we had just finished our tea, for I remember that I was smoking a cigarette when I looked up and saw the mark on the wall for the first time. I looked up through the smoke of my cigarette and my eye lodged for a moment upon the burning coals, and that old fancy of the crimson flag flapping from the castle tower came into my mind, and I thought of the cavalcade of red knights riding up the side of the black rock. Rather to my relief the sight of the mark interrupted the fancy, for it is an old fancy, an automatic fancy, made as a child perhaps. The mark was a small round mark, black upon the white wall, about six or seven inches above the mantelpiece.

大約是在今年一月中旬，我抬起頭來，第一次看見了墻上的那個斑點。為了要確定是在哪一天，就得回憶當時我看見了些什么。現在我記起了爐子里的火，一片黃色的火光一動不動地照射在我的書頁上；壁爐上圓形玻璃缸里插著三朵菊花。對啦，一定是冬天，我們剛喝完茶，因為我記得當時我正在吸煙，我抬起頭來，第一次看見了墻上那個斑點。我透過香煙的煙霧望過去，眼光在火紅的炭塊上停留了一下，過去關于在城堡塔樓上飄揚著一面鮮紅的旗幟的幻覺又浮現在我腦際，我想到無數紅色騎士潮水般地騎馬躍上黑色巖壁的側坡。這個斑點打斷了我這個幻覺，使我覺得松了一口氣，因為這是過去的幻覺，是一種無意識的幻覺，可能是在孩童時期產生的。墻上的斑點是一塊圓形的小跡印，在雪白的墻壁上呈暗黑色，在壁爐上方大約六七英寸的地方。

How readily our thoughts swarm upon a new object, lifting it a little way, as ants carry a blade of straw so feverishly, and then leave it. . . If that mark was made by a nail, it can’t have been for a picture, it must have been for a miniature--the miniature of a lady with white powdered curls, powder-dusted cheeks, and lips like red carnations. A fraud of course, for the people who had this house before us would have chosen pictures in that way--an old picture for an old room. That is the sort of people they were--very interesting people, and I think of them so often, in such queer places, because one will never see them again, never know what happened next. They wanted to leave this house because they wanted to change their style of furniture, so he said, and he was in process of saying that in his opinion art should have ideas behind it when we were torn asunder, as one is torn from the old lady about to pour out tea and the young man about to hit the tennis ball in the back garden of the suburban villa as one rushes past in the train.

我們的思緒是多么容易一哄而上，簇擁著一件新鮮事物，像一群螞蟻狂熱地抬一根稻草一樣，抬了一會，又把它扔在那里……如果這個斑點是一只釘子留下的痕跡，那一定不是為了掛一幅油畫，而是為了掛一幅小肖像畫——一幅卷發上撲著白粉、臉上抹著脂粉、嘴唇像紅石竹花的貴婦人肖像。它當然是一件贗品，這所房子以前的房客只會選那一類的畫——老房子得有老式畫像來配它。他們就是這種人家——很有意思的人家，我常常想到他們，都是在一些奇怪的地方，因為誰都不會再見到他們，也不會知道他們后來的遭遇了。據他說，那家人搬出這所房子是因為他們想換一套別種式樣的家具，他正在說，按他的想法，藝術品背后應該包含著思想的時候，我們兩人就一下子分了手，這種情形就像坐火車一樣，我們在火車里看見路旁郊外別墅里有個老太太正準備倒茶，有個年輕人正舉起球拍打網球，火車一晃而過，我們就和老太太以及年輕人分了手，把他們拋在火車后面。