Enfant Terrible

Now, I feel it creates a miniboom all over the world.

Mummified Animal Remain.
Abandoned Building or Broken Toy.
Oddly-distorted Face, Eyes open huge, 
They are floating in thin air.

I don't know what we are feeling.
I wonder if we feel a mood of disquiet around the corner.
Do noticeably-enlarged brains move for stimulus, by any chance ?

I am no exception, either.
I'm fascinated in the shady characters
who appeared in novels written by Truman Capote.
Truman Capote, he was called "enfant terrible".
My favorite is a short story "Miriam".
It's called a Gothic Novel.
In June 1945, "Miriam" was published by Mademoiselle and
went on to win a prize, Best First-Published Story, in 1946.

A classic story of loneliness.
ミリアム 夜の樹 (新潮文庫)
These are the plot lines from the novel.

彼女の生活はつつましい。 友だちというような人間はいないし、
角の食料品店より先に行くこともめったにない。 マンションの住人たちは彼女がいることに気づいてもいないようだ。
そんなある日、彼女はミリアムに会った。 その夜は雪が降っていた。
Her interests were narrow, she had no friends to speak of,
and she rarely journeyed farther than the corner grocery.

The other people in the house never seemed to notice her:
Then she met Miriam. It was snowing that night.女の子の髪は、ミセス・ミラーがこれまでに見たこともないくらい長く、変っていた。

Her hair was the longest and strangest Mrs. Miller had ever seen: absolutely silver-white,
like an albino’s. It flowed waist-length in smooth, loose lines. She was thin and fragile constructed.
There was a simple, special elegance in the way she stood with her thumbs
in the pockets of a tailored plum-velvet coat.
「名前はなんていうの?」 「ミリアムじゃない」 と彼女は言った。わかっているのになぜ聞くのという感じだった。

Examining her more attentively, 
Mrs. Miller decided the truly distinctive feature was not her hair, but her eyes;
they were hazel, steady, lacking any childlike quality whatsoever and, because of their site,
seemed to consume her small face."What’s your name, dear?" "Miriam,"

she said, as though, in some curious way,
it were information already familiar. "Why, isn’t that funny—my name’s Miriam, too.

And it’s not a terribly common name either."
It was while waiting at the corner of Third Avenue that she saw the man: an old man.
Suddenly she realized they were exchanging a smile:
there was nothing friendly about this smile, it was merely two cold flickers of recognition.
But she was certain she had never seen him before.
As she crossed the street he turned and followed. He kept quite close;
ただ男は、ひつつだけ奇妙な、合図のような仕草をした----- 帽子をひょいと上げて彼女に挨拶をしたのだ。
Mrs. Miller walked five blocks without meeting anyone,
and all the while the steady crunch of his footfalls in the snow stayed near.
And when she came to a florist’s shop, the sound was still with her.
She hurried inside and watched through the glass door as the old man passed;
he kept his eyes straight ahead and didn’t slow his pace,
but he did one strange, telling thing: he tipped his cap.

どうしても帰ろうとしないし、どうすることも出来ないんです。---- その子、何か恐ろしいことをするつもりなんです。
もう私のカメオを取ってしまったし、もっと悪いことをするつもりなんです---- とても恐ろしいことを!」

Carefully she edged backward till she touched the door.
She fumbled through the hall and down the stairs to a landing below.
She pounded frantically on the door of the first apartment she came to;
"I live upstairs and there’s a little girl visiting me, and I suppose that I’m afraid of her.
She won't leave and I can’t make her and—she’s going to do something terrible.
She’s already stolen my cameo, but she’s about to do something worse—something terrible!"
「誰もいなかったですよ」 彼は当惑していった。 そこで女が評決を下すようにいった。

「じゃあ、はじめからなんでもなかったんじゃない ・・・」
Presently they heard the man on the stairs.
He strode into the room frowning and scratching the back of his neck.
"Nobody there," he said, honestly embarrassed.

And the woman, as if delivering a verdict, said, "Well, for crying out loud ..."

ミセス・ミラーはそっと自分の部屋に入った。 部屋のなかは何も変わっていない。
Mrs. Miller entered her apartment softly; No, in a sense it had not changed
The sofa loomed before her with a new strangeness: its vacancy had a meaning that would have been
less penetrating and terrible had Miriam been curled on it. For a moment, the hassock spun desperately.

彼女は窓越しに外を見た。いつもと同じように川が見える ちゃんと雪が降っている
And she looked through the window; surely the river was real, surely snow was falling—
通りで出会った老人におびえたのが愚かなことだとしたら? ミリアムに会ったことで唯一失ったものがあるとすれば、
それは自分が誰なのかという確かな感覚だった。 しかし、それももう取り戻した。
もちろんそれはミセス ・H ・T ・ミラー自身である。
Well, what if she had never really known a girl named Miriam?
that she had been foolishly frightened on the street?
For the only thing she had lost to Miriam was her identity,
but now she knew she had found again the person who lived in this room,
who was someone she could trust and believe in: Mrs. H. T. Miller.
Listening in contentment, and this, delicately faint, was moving nearer and swelling in intensity 
till the walls trembled with the vibration and the room was caving under a wave of whispers.

Mrs. Miller stiffened and opened her eyes to a dull, direct stare.
「ハロー」 と ミリアムがいった。 
" Hello"  said Miriam.

5 件のコメント:

  1. どんなストーリーなのかすごく興味がわき、インターネットの日本語版で読みました。心理的なすごみが、読んでいて怖かったです。ミセス・ミラーの孤独が作り出した幻影としか思えないのですが。でもそうだとしたら、どうして彼女は幻影をつくりだしたの、孤独な人が幻影を作り出すとはかぎらないし。ああ、私読み込めませんでした(^^;)。"enfant terrible" seems to take shape in Miriam.
    ANZU, please help me!! And thank you for posting such an interesting story of great Capote.

  2. snowwhiteさん

  3. Anzuさん、

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