It was Sunday, and as they drove up to the station he saw before a Greek confectionery and newspaper store a group of the town sports. They were dressed up in their cheap Sunday finery, and their faces wore a smirk5. As Joel got out of the car, the sports tried to look nonchalant and easy in their relations with one another, but a kind of uneasy constraint6 had fallen upon them and held them until he had gone. And yet he had not noticed them or done anything that might have caused them this discomfort7.
In the gravelled parking space before the station several cars were drawn8 up. Their shining bodies glittered in the hot sunlight like great beetles9 of machinery10, and in the look of these great beetles, powerful and luxurious11 as most of them were, there was a stamped-out quality, a kind of metallic12 and inhuman13 repetition that filled his spirit, he could not say why, with a vague sense of weariness and desolation. The feeling returned to him — the feeling that had come to him so often in recent years with a troubling and haunting insistence14 — that “something” had come into life, “something new” which he could not define, but something that was disturbing and sinister15, and which was somehow represented by the powerful, weary, and inhuman precision of these great, glittering, stamped-out beetles of machinery. And consonant16 to this feeling was another concerning people themselves: it seemed to him that they, too, had changed, that “something new” had come into their faces, and although he could not define it, he felt with a powerful and unmistakable intuition that it was there — that “something” had come into life that had changed the lives and faces of the people, too. And the reason this discovery was so disturbing — almost terrifying, in fact — was first of all because it was at once evident and yet indefinable; and then because he knew it had happened within the years of his own life, few and brief as they were — had happened, indeed, within “the last few years,” had happened all around him while he lived and breathed and worked among these very people to whom it had happened, and that he had not observed it at the “instant” when it came. For, with an intensely literal, an almost fanatically concrete quality of imagination, it seemed to him that there must have been an “instant”— a moment of crisis, a literal fragment of recorded time in which the transition of this change came. And it was just for this reason that he now felt a nameless and disturbing sense of desolation — almost of terror; it seemed to him that this change in people’s lives and faces had occurred right under his nose, while he was looking on, and that he had not seen it when it came, and that now it was here, the accumulation of his knowledge had burst suddenly in this moment of perception — he saw plainly that people had worn this look for several years, and that he did not know the manner of its coming.
They were, in short, the faces of people who had been hurled17 ten thousand times through the roaring darkness of a subway tunnel, who had breathed foul18 air, and been assailed19 by smashing roar and grinding vibrance, until their ears were deafened20, their tongues rasped and their voices made metallic, their skins and nerve-ends thickened, calloused21, mercifully deprived of aching life, moulded to a stunned22 consonance with the crashing uproar23 of the world in which they lived. These were the dead, the dull, lack-lustre24 eyes of men who had been hurled too far, too often, in the smashing projectiles26 of great trains, who, in their shining beetles of machinery, had hurtled down the harsh and brutal27 ribbons of their concrete roads at such a savage28 speed that now the earth was lost for ever, and they never saw the earth again: whose weary, desperate ever-seeking eyes had sought so often, seeking MAN, amid the blind horror and proliferation, the everlasting29 shock and flock and flooding of the million-footed crowd, that all the life and lustre and fire of youth had gone from them; and seeking so for ever in the man-swarm30 for man’s face, now saw the blind blank wall of faces, and so would never see man’s living, loving, radiant, and merciful face again.
Such were the faces that he now saw waiting on the station platform of this little Hudson River town — two dozen faces from the mongrel and anonymous31 compost of like faces that made up America — and with a sudden blinding flash of horror and of recognition, it now came to him that they were just the faces he had seen everywhere, at a thousand times and places in “the last few years.”
He had seen them in their last and greatest colony — the huge encampment of the innumerable submerged, the last and largest colony of the great mongrel and anonymous compost that makes up America: he had seen them there, hurtling for ever, from the roaring arch of the great bridge, with their unceasing flight, projectile25 roar, unnumbered flood, in their great and desolate32 beetles of glittering machinery — boring for ever through the huge and labyrinthine33 horror of that trackless jungle of uncounted ways, beneath the grime and rust34 and swarm and violence and horror of Fulton Street, past all the vast convergences, the threat and menace of the empty naked corners, the swarming35 and concentric chaos36 of Borough37 Hall, and with beetling38 and unceasing flight through Clinton Street, on Henry Street, through the Bedford section, out through the flat and limitless swelter known as “the Flatbush section,” beneath the broad and humid light of solid skies, through ten thousand rusty39, grimy, nameless streets that make up that huge and trackless swelter — and most horrible of all, a flood of nameless faces, rootless and unnumbered lives, hurtling blindly past for ever in hot beetles of machinery along those broad, wide, and splendidly desolate “avenues,” that were flanked upon each side by the cheap raw brick, the gaudy40 splendour, of unnumbered new apartment houses, the brick and stucco atrocities41 of unnumbered new cheap houses, and that cut straight and brutal as a spoke42 across the labyrinthine chaos of the Brooklyn jungle — and that led to God knows where — to Coney Island, to the beaches, to the outer districts of that trackless web, the unknown continent of Long Island — but that, no matter where or how they led, were always crowded with the blind horror of those unnumbered, hurtling faces, the blind horror of those great glittering beetles of machinery drilling past for ever in projectile flight, unceasing movement and unending change, the blind horror of these unknown nameless lives hurtling on for ever, lost for ever, going God knows where!
Yes, this was the thing — blindly, desperately43, unutterably though he felt it — this was the thing that had put this look — the “new look”— the horrible, indefinable, and abominably44 desolate and anonymous look into the face of people. This was the thing that had taken all the play and flash of passion, joy, and instant, lovely and mercurial45 life out of their living faces, and that gave their faces the look of something blunted, deadened, stunned, and calloused.
This was the thing that had given people “the new look”— that had made man what he had become — that had made all these people waiting on the platform for the train what they were — and now that he had to face this thing again, now that he had to be thrust back in it, now that, after these three days of magic and enchantment46, he must leave this glorious world that he had just discovered — and be thrust brutally47 back again into the blind and brutal stupefaction, the nameless agony and swelter of that life from which he came — it seemed to him he could not face it, he could not go back to it again, it was too hard, too full of pain and sweat and agony and terror, too ugly, cruel, futile48, and horrible, to be endured.
No more! No more! And not to be endured! To discover for three days — three magic swift-winged days — that enchanted49 life that had held all his visions as a child in fee — to be for just three brief and magic days a lord of life, the valued friend, the respected and well-loved companion of great men and glorious women, to discover and to possess for three haunting and intolerable lovely days the magic domain50 of his boyhood’s “America”— the most fortunate, good and happy life that men had ever known — the most true and beautiful, the most RIGHT— and now to have it torn from him at the very instant of possession — and to come to this:— a nameless cipher51 hurtled citywards in the huge projectile of a train, with all his fellow-ciphers, towards this blind and brutal stupefaction. A voice sounded far off, thundering in his ears through the battle-roar and rock of that stunned universe, as he cried:
“Joel! Joel! It was good to be here with you — Joel —”
And suddenly he saw his friend’s tall form recoil52, shrink back, the look of something instant, startled, closed and final in his face and eye, and heard the swift incisive53 whisper saying quickly —
“Yes! . . . It was good that you could come! . . . And now, good-bye! . . . I shall see you —”
And so heard no more, and knew that that good-bye was final and irrevocable and could not be altered, no matter now how much or how often they should “see” each other in the future.
And at the same moment, as that door swung shut between them, and he saw that it never could be opened any more, he felt, with the knowledge of that irrevocable loss, a moment’s swift and rending54 pity for his friend. For he saw somehow that he was lost — that there was nothing for him now but shadows on the wall — Circean make-believe — that world of moonlight, magic and painted smoke that “the river people” knew. For three days he himself had breathed the poppied fumes55 of all its glorious unreality, and in those three short days the world from which he came — his father’s earth of blood and sweat and stinking56 day and bitter agony — this world of violence and toil57 and strife58 and cruelty and terror, this swarming world of nameless lives and mongrel faces, with all its ugliness — had become phantasmal as an evil dream, until now he could scarcely endure the hot and savage swelter, the savage fury, of the unceasing city. To grope and sweat and thrust and curse his way again among the unceasing flood-tides of the grimy swarming pavements; to be buffeted59, stunned, bewildered, deadened, and exhausted60 by the blind turmoil61, the quenchless62 thirst and searching, the insatiate hunger and the black despair of all that bleak63 and fruitless struggle, that futile and unceasing strife — and to come to this! To come to this!
It was too hard, too painful, too much to be endured, he could not go! — and even as his life shrank back in all the shuddering64 revulsion and loathing65 of his desolate discovery — he heard the great train thunder on the rails — and he knew that he MUST go!
For a moment, as the train pulled out, he stood looking out of the window, waved good-bye to Joel standing66 on the platform, and for a moment watched his tall retreating form. Then the train gained speed, was running swiftly now along the river’s edge, swept round a bend, the station and the town were left behind him, and presently, just for a few brief moments as it swept along below the magic and familiar hill, he caught a vision of the great white house set proudly far away up on the hill and screened with noble trees. Then this was gone: he looked about him, up and down the grimy coach, which was dense67 with smoke and pungent68 with the smell of cheap cigars and strong tobacco.
They were all there, and instantly he knew that he had seen each one of them a million times, and had known all of them for ever; the Greek from Cleveland with his cheap tan suit, his loud tan shoes, his striped tan socks, his cheap cardboard suitcase with its tan shirts and collars and its extra pair of pants, and with his hairy, seamed and pitted nighttime face, his swarthy eyes, his lowering finger-breadth of forehead bent69 with painful, patient, furrowed70 rumination71 into the sensational72 mysteries of tabloid73 print. They were all there — two deaf-mutes talking on their fingers; a young Harlem negro and his saffron wench, togged to the nines in tan and lavender; two young Brooklyn Jews and their two girl friends grouped on turned seats; a little chorus girl from the burlesque74 with dyed hair of straw-blade falseness, a false, meagre, empty, painted little prostitute’s face, and a costume of ratty finery false as all the rest of her; a young Italian with grease-black hair sleeked75 back in faultless patent-leather pompadour, who talked to her, eyes leering and half-lidded, with thick pale lips fixed76 in a slow thick smile of sensual assurance, the jaws77 slow-working on a wad of gum; a man with the strong, common, gaunt-jawed and anonymous visage of the working man, wearing neat, cheap, nameless clothing, and with a brown-paper parcel on the rack above him; and a young dark Irishman, his tough face fierce with drink and truculence78, his eyes glittering with red points of fire, his tongue snarling79 curses, threats, and invitations to the fight that rasped and cut with naked menace through the smoke-blue air.
The young Jews slouched with laughter, filled the car with noisy clamour, sparred glibly80, swiftly, with quick, eager, and praise-asking repartee81, with knowing smirk and cynic jest, with acrid82 cynic wit that did not hit the mark. The little blondined prostitute listened to the hypnotic, slit83-eyed, thick-lipped seductions of the young Italian with a small coy-bawdy smirk upon her painted face: she did not know what he meant, she had no idea what he was talking about, and with coy-bawdy smirk she rose, edged past his slow withdrawn84 knees and minced85 down the corridor towards the little cupboard at the end that housed the women’s toilet, while with lidded sly eyes and thick, slow-chewing and slow-smiling lips his calculating glance pursued her. The lady entered, closed the door upon a stale reek4, and was gone some time. When she emerged she arranged her clothing daintily, smoothed out her rumpled86 dress across her hips87 and came mincing88 down the corridor again with faint coy-bawdy smirk, and was greeted again by her gallant89 suitor, who welcomed her in the same manner, with lidded eyes, thick, pallid90 and slow-chewing lips and slow withdrawn knees. The two deaf-mutes surveyed the scene with loathing: one was large and heavy, with the powerful shoulders of the cripple, a brutal face, a wide and cruel mouth; the other small and dark and ferret-faced — but both surveyed the scene with loathing. They looked at each and all the passengers and they dismissed each in turn upon their fingers. As they did so their faces writhed91 in vicious snarls92, in sneering93 smiles, in convulsions of disgust and hatred94; they looked upon the objects of their hate and jerked cruel thumbs towards earth in gestures eloquent95 of annihilation and destructive sudden death, and they drew swift fingers meaningly across their gullets with the deadly move of men who slit a throat — and all was as he had known it would be.
The working man with the strong and common face, the cheap, neat clothes, sat quietly, and looked quietly out of the window, with seamed face and quiet worn eyes, and the young Irishman sweltered in strong drink and murder; the taste of blood was thick in him, his little eyes glittered with red points of fire, and ever as the train rushed on he sowed that smoke-blue air with rasping curse and snarling threat, with all the idiotic96 stupefaction of a foul and idiotic profanity, an obscene but limited complaint:—
“Yuh ——— Kikes! . . . Yuh ——— Jews! . . . I’ll kick duh ——— s — t outa duh ——— lot of yuh, yuh ——— bastards97, you. . . . Hey-y! You! . . . Yuh ——— dummies99 up deh talkin’ on yer ——— fingers all duh time. . . . Hey-y! You! Inches! You ——— bastard98, I don’t give a s — t for duh whole ——— lot of yuh.”
It was all as it had always been, as he had known it would be, as he never could have foreseen it: the young dark Irishman sowed the air with threats and foulness100, he finished up his bottle, and the foulness and the old red light of murder grew. And the mongrel compost laughed and snickered as they always did, and at length grew silent when he lurched with drunken measure towards them, and the old guard with the sour, seamed face then stopped the Irishman, and he cursed him.
And the slant101 light steepened in the skies, the old red light of waning102 day made magic fire upon the river, and the train made on for ever its tremendous monotone that was like silence and for ever — and now there was nothing but that tremendous monotone of time and silence and the river, the haunted river, the enchanted river that drank for ever its great soundless tides from out the inland slowly, and that moved through all man’s lives the magic thread of its huge haunting spell, and that linked his life to magic kingdoms and to lotus-land and to all the vision of the magic earth that he had dreamed of as a child, and that bore him on for ever out of magic to all the grime and sweat and violence of the city, the unceasing city, the million-footed city, and into America.
The great river burned there in his vision in that light of fading day and it was hung there in that spell of silence and for ever, and it was flowing on for ever, and it was stranger than a legend, and as dark as time.
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1
dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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2
drearily
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| 沉寂地，厌倦地，可怕地 | |
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3
pretentious
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| adj.自命不凡的，自负的，炫耀的 | |
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4
reek
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| v.发出臭气；n.恶臭 | |
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5
smirk
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| n.得意地笑；v.傻笑；假笑着说 | |
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constraint
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| n.(on)约束，限制；限制(或约束)性的事物 | |
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7
discomfort
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| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
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8
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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9
beetles
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| n.甲虫( beetle的名词复数 ) | |
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10
machinery
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| n.(总称)机械，机器；机构 | |
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11
luxurious
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| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
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12
metallic
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| adj.金属的；金属制的；含金属的；产金属的；像金属的 | |
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13
inhuman
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| adj.残忍的，不人道的，无人性的 | |
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14
insistence
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| n.坚持；强调；坚决主张 | |
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15
sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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16
consonant
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| n.辅音；adj.[音]符合的 | |
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17
hurled
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| v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的过去式和过去分词 )；大声叫骂 | |
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18
foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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19
assailed
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| v.攻击( assail的过去式和过去分词 )；困扰；质问；毅然应对 | |
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20
deafened
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| 使聋( deafen的过去式和过去分词 )； 使隔音 | |
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21
calloused
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| adj.粗糙的，粗硬的，起老茧的v.（使）硬结，（使）起茧( callous的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）冷酷无情 | |
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22
stunned
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| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
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23
uproar
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| n.骚动，喧嚣，鼎沸 | |
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24
lustre
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| n.光亮，光泽；荣誉 | |
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25
projectile
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| n.投射物，发射体；adj.向前开进的；推进的；抛掷的 | |
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projectiles
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| n.抛射体( projectile的名词复数 )；（炮弹、子弹等）射弹，（火箭等）自动推进的武器 | |
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27
brutal
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| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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everlasting
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| adj.永恒的，持久的，无止境的 | |
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30
swarm
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| n.(昆虫)等一大群；vi.成群飞舞；蜂拥而入 | |
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31
anonymous
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| adj.无名的；匿名的；无特色的 | |
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32
desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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labyrinthine
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| adj.如迷宫的；复杂的 | |
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rust
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| n.锈；v.生锈；(脑子)衰退 | |
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35
swarming
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| 密集( swarm的现在分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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36
chaos
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| n.混乱，无秩序 | |
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borough
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| n.享有自治权的市镇；(英)自治市镇 | |
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38
beetling
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| adj.突出的，悬垂的v.快速移动( beetle的现在分词 ) | |
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39
rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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40
gaudy
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| adj.华而不实的；俗丽的 | |
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41
atrocities
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| n.邪恶，暴行( atrocity的名词复数 )；滔天大罪 | |
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42
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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43
desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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44
abominably
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| adv. 可恶地，可恨地，恶劣地 | |
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45
mercurial
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| adj.善变的，活泼的 | |
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46
enchantment
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| n.迷惑，妖术，魅力 | |
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47
brutally
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| adv.残忍地，野蛮地，冷酷无情地 | |
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48
futile
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| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
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49
enchanted
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| adj. 被施魔法的，陶醉的，入迷的 动词enchant的过去式和过去分词 | |
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50
domain
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| n.(活动等)领域，范围；领地，势力范围 | |
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51
cipher
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| n.零；无影响力的人；密码 | |
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52
recoil
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| vi.退却，退缩，畏缩 | |
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53
incisive
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| adj.敏锐的，机敏的，锋利的，切入的 | |
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54
rending
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| v.撕碎( rend的现在分词 )；分裂；（因愤怒、痛苦等而）揪扯（衣服或头发等）；（声音等）刺破 | |
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55
fumes
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| n.(强烈而刺激的)气味，气体 | |
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56
stinking
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| adj.臭的，烂醉的，讨厌的v.散发出恶臭( stink的现在分词 )；发臭味；名声臭；糟透 | |
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57
toil
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| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
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strife
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| n.争吵，冲突，倾轧，竞争 | |
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59
buffeted
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| 反复敲打( buffet的过去式和过去分词 )； 连续猛击； 打来打去； 推来搡去 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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turmoil
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| n.骚乱，混乱，动乱 | |
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quenchless
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| 不可熄灭的 | |
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bleak
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| adj.(天气)阴冷的；凄凉的；暗淡的 | |
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shuddering
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| v.战栗( shudder的现在分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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loathing
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| n.厌恶，憎恨v.憎恨，厌恶( loathe的现在分词)；极不喜欢 | |
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66
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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pungent
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| adj.（气味、味道）刺激性的，辛辣的；尖锐的 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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furrowed
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| v.犁田，开沟( furrow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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rumination
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| n.反刍，沉思 | |
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sensational
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| adj.使人感动的，非常好的，轰动的，耸人听闻的 | |
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tabloid
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| adj.轰动性的，庸俗的；n.小报，文摘 | |
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burlesque
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| v.嘲弄，戏仿；n.嘲弄，取笑，滑稽模仿 | |
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sleeked
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| 使…光滑而发亮( sleek的过去式 ) | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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truculence
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| n.凶猛，粗暴 | |
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snarling
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| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的现在分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
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glibly
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| adv.流利地，流畅地；满口 | |
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repartee
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| n.机敏的应答 | |
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acrid
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| adj.辛辣的，尖刻的，刻薄的 | |
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slit
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| n.狭长的切口；裂缝；vt.切开，撕裂 | |
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withdrawn
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| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
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minced
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| v.切碎( mince的过去式和过去分词 )；剁碎；绞碎；用绞肉机绞（食物，尤指肉） | |
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rumpled
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| v.弄皱，使凌乱( rumple的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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hips
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| abbr.high impact polystyrene 高冲击强度聚苯乙烯，耐冲性聚苯乙烯n.臀部( hip的名词复数 )；[建筑学]屋脊；臀围（尺寸）；臀部…的 | |
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mincing
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| adj.矫饰的；v.切碎；切碎 | |
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gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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pallid
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| adj.苍白的，呆板的 | |
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writhed
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| （因极度痛苦而）扭动或翻滚( writhe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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snarls
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| n.（动物的）龇牙低吼( snarl的名词复数 )；愤怒叫嚷（声）；咆哮（声）；疼痛叫声v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的第三人称单数 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
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sneering
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| 嘲笑的，轻蔑的 | |
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hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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eloquent
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| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
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idiotic
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| adj.白痴的 | |
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bastards
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| 私生子( bastard的名词复数 )； 坏蛋； 讨厌的事物； 麻烦事 （认为别人走运或不幸时说）家伙 | |
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bastard
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| n.坏蛋，混蛋；私生子 | |
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dummies
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| n.仿制品( dummy的名词复数 )；橡皮奶头；笨蛋；假传球 | |
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foulness
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| n. 纠缠, 卑鄙 | |
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101
slant
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| v.倾斜，倾向性地编写或报道；n.斜面，倾向 | |
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102
waning
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| adj.（月亮）渐亏的，逐渐减弱或变小的n.月亏v.衰落( wane的现在分词 )；（月）亏；变小；变暗淡 | |
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