The Genesis of ‘the Master of Ballantrae’
I was walking one night in the verandah of a small house in which I lived, outside the hamlet of Saranac. It was winter; the night was very dark; the air extraordinary clear and cold, and sweet with the purity of forests. From a good way below, the river was to be heard contending with ice and boulders1: a few lights appeared, scattered2 unevenly3 among the darkness, but so far away as not to lessen4 the sense of isolation5. For the making of a story here were fine conditions. I was besides moved with the spirit of emulation6, for I had just finished my third or fourth perusal7 of The Phantom8 Ship. ‘Come,’ said I to my engine, ‘let us make a tale, a story of many years and countries, of the sea and the land, savagery9 and civilisation10; a story that shall have the same large features, and may be treated in the same summary elliptic method as the book you have been reading and admiring.’ I was here brought up with a reflection exceedingly just in itself, but which, as the sequel shows, I failed to profit by. I saw that Marryat, not less than Homer, Milton, and Virgil, profited by the choice of a familiar and legendary11 subject; so that he prepared his readers on the very title-page; and this set me cudgelling my brains, if by any chance I could hit upon some similar belief to be the centre-piece of my own meditated12 fiction. In the course of this vain search there cropped up in my memory a singular case of a buried and resuscitated13 fakir, which I had been often told by an uncle of mine, then lately dead, Inspector-General John Balfour.
On such a fine frosty night, with no wind and the thermometer below zero, the brain works with much vivacity14; and the next moment I had seen the circumstance transplanted from India and the tropics to the Adirondack wilderness15 and the stringent16 cold of the Canadian border. Here then, almost before I had begun my story, I had two countries, two of the ends of the earth involved: and thus though the notion of the resuscitated man failed entirely17 on the score of general acceptation, or even (as I have since found) acceptability, it fitted at once with my design of a tale of many lands; and this decided18 me to consider further of its possibilities. The man who should thus be buried was the first question: a good man, whose return to life would be hailed by the reader and the other characters with gladness? This trenched upon the Christian19 picture, and was dismissed. If the idea, then, was to be of any use at all for me, I had to create a kind of evil genius to his friends and family, take him through many disappearances20, and make this final restoration from the pit of death, in the icy American wilderness, the last and the grimmest of the series. I need not tell my brothers of the craft that I was now in the most interesting moment of an author’s life; the hours that followed that night upon the balcony, and the following nights and days, whether walking abroad or lying wakeful in my bed, were hours of unadulterated joy. My mother, who was then living with me alone, perhaps had less enjoyment21; for, in the absence of my wife, who is my usual helper in these times of parturition22, I must spur her up at all seasons to hear me relate and try to clarify my unformed fancies.
And while I was groping for the fable23 and the character required, behold24 I found them lying ready and nine years old in my memory. Pease porridge hot, pease porridge cold, pease porridge in the pot, nine years old. Was there ever a more complete justification25 of the rule of Horace? Here, thinking of quite other things, I had stumbled on the solution, or perhaps I should rather say (in stagewright phrase) the Curtain or final Tableau26 of a story conceived long before on the moors27 between Pitlochry and Strathardle, conceived in Highland28 rain, in the blend of the smell of heather and bog-plants, and with a mind full of the Athole correspondence and the memories of the dumlicide Justice. So long ago, so far away it was, that I had first evoked29 the faces and the mutual30 tragic31 situation of the men of Durrisdeer.
My story was now world-wide enough: Scotland, India, and America being all obligatory32 scenes. But of these India was strange to me except in books; I had never known any living Indian save a Parsee, a member of my club in London, equally civilised, and (to all seeing) equally accidental with myself. It was plain, thus far, that I should have to get into India and out of it again upon a foot of fairy lightness; and I believe this first suggested to me the idea of the Chevalier Burke for a narrator. It was at first intended that he should be Scottish, and I was then filled with fears that he might prove only the degraded shadow of my own Alan Breck. Presently, however, it began to occur to me it would be like my Master to curry33 favour with the Prince’s Irishmen; and that an Irish refugee would have a particular reason to find himself in India with his countryman, the unfortunate Lally. Irish, therefore, I decided he should be, and then, all of a sudden, I was aware of a tall shadow across my path, the shadow of Barry Lyndon. No man (in Lord Foppington’s phrase) of a nice morality could go very deep with my Master: in the original idea of this story conceived in Scotland, this companion had been besides intended to be worse than the bad elder son with whom (as it was then meant) he was to visit Scotland; if I took an Irishman, and a very bad Irishman, in the midst of the eighteenth century, how was I to evade34 Barry Lyndon? The wretch35 besieged36 me, offering his services; he gave me excellent references; he proved that he was highly fitted for the work I had to do; he, or my own evil heart, suggested it was easy to disguise his ancient livery wit a little lace and a few frogs and buttons, so that Thackeray himself should hardly recognise him. And then of a sudden there came to me memories of a young Irishman, with whom I was once intimate, and had spent long nights walking and talking with, upon a very desolate37 coast in a bleak38 autumn: I recalled him as a youth of an extraordinary moral simplicity39 — almost vacancy40; plastic to any influence, the creature of his admirations: and putting such a youth in fancy into the career of a soldier of fortune, it occurred to me that he would serve my turn as well as Mr. Lyndon, and in place of entering into competition with the Master, would afford a slight though a distinct relief. I know not if I have done him well, though his moral dissertations41 always highly entertained me: but I own I have been surprised to find that he reminded some critics of Barry Lyndon after all . . . .
1 boulders | |
n.卵石( boulder的名词复数 );巨砾;(受水或天气侵蚀而成的)巨石;漂砾 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 scattered | |
adj.分散的,稀疏的;散步的;疏疏落落的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 unevenly | |
adv.不均匀的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 lessen | |
vt.减少,减轻;缩小 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 isolation | |
n.隔离,孤立,分解,分离 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 emulation | |
n.竞争;仿效 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 perusal | |
n.细读,熟读;目测 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 phantom | |
n.幻影,虚位,幽灵;adj.错觉的,幻影的,幽灵的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 savagery | |
n.野性 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 civilisation | |
n.文明,文化,开化,教化 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 legendary | |
adj.传奇(中)的,闻名遐迩的;n.传奇(文学) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 meditated | |
深思,沉思,冥想( meditate的过去式和过去分词 ); 内心策划,考虑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 resuscitated | |
v.使(某人或某物)恢复知觉,苏醒( resuscitate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 vivacity | |
n.快活,活泼,精神充沛 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 wilderness | |
n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等,荒漠 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 stringent | |
adj.严厉的;令人信服的;银根紧的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 entirely | |
ad.全部地,完整地;完全地,彻底地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 decided | |
adj.决定了的,坚决的;明显的,明确的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 Christian | |
adj.基督教徒的;n.基督教徒 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 disappearances | |
n.消失( disappearance的名词复数 );丢失;失踪;失踪案 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 enjoyment | |
n.乐趣;享有;享用 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 parturition | |
n.生产,分娩 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 fable | |
n.寓言;童话;神话 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 behold | |
v.看,注视,看到 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 justification | |
n.正当的理由;辩解的理由 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 tableau | |
n.画面,活人画(舞台上活人扮的静态画面) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 moors | |
v.停泊,系泊(船只)( moor的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 highland | |
n.(pl.)高地,山地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 evoked | |
[医]诱发的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 mutual | |
adj.相互的,彼此的;共同的,共有的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 tragic | |
adj.悲剧的,悲剧性的,悲惨的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 obligatory | |
adj.强制性的,义务的,必须的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 curry | |
n.咖哩粉,咖哩饭菜;v.用咖哩粉调味,用马栉梳,制革 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 evade | |
vt.逃避,回避;避开,躲避 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 wretch | |
n.可怜的人,不幸的人;卑鄙的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 besieged | |
包围,围困,围攻( besiege的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 desolate | |
adj.荒凉的,荒芜的;孤独的,凄凉的;v.使荒芜,使孤寂 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 bleak | |
adj.(天气)阴冷的;凄凉的;暗淡的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 simplicity | |
n.简单,简易;朴素;直率,单纯 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 vacancy | |
n.(旅馆的)空位,空房,(职务的)空缺 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41 dissertations | |
专题论文,学位论文( dissertation的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |