Part 3 Book 1 Chapter 5 His Frontiers

The gamin loves the city, he also loves solitude, since he has something of the sage in him. Urbis amator, like Fuscus; ruris amator, like Flaccus.

To roam thoughtfully about, that is to say, to lounge, is a fine employment of time in the eyes of the philosopher; particularly in that rather illegitimate species of campaign, which is tolerably ugly but odd and composed of two natures, which surrounds certain great cities, notably Paris. To study the suburbs is to study the amphibious animal. End of the trees, beginning of the roofs; end of the grass, beginning of the pavements; end of the furrows, beginning of the shops, end of the wheel-ruts, beginning of the passions; end of the divine murmur, beginning of the human uproar; hence an extraordinary interest.

Hence, in these not very attractive places, indelibly stamped by the passing stroller with the epithet: melancholy, the apparently objectless promenades of the dreamer.

He who writes these lines has long been a prowler about the barriers of Paris, and it is for him a source of profound souvenirs. That close-shaven turf, those pebbly paths, that chalk, those pools, those harsh monotonies of waste and fallow lands, the plants of early market-garden suddenly springing into sight in a bottom, that mixture of the savage and the citizen, those vast desert nooks where the garrison drums practise noisily, and produce a sort of lisping of battle, those hermits by day and cut-throats by night, that clumsy mill which turns in the wind, the hoisting-wheels of the quarries, the tea-gardens at the corners of the cemeteries; the mysterious charm of great, sombre walls squarely intersecting immense, vague stretches of land inundated with sunshine and full of butterflies,--all this attracted him.

There is hardly any one on earth who is not acquainted with those singular spots, the Glaciere, the Cunette, the hideous wall of Grenelle all speckled with balls, Mont-Parnasse, the Fosse-aux-Loups, Aubiers on the bank of the Marne, Mont-Souris, the Tombe-Issoire, the Pierre-Plate de Chatillon, where there is an old, exhausted quarry which no longer serves any purpose except to raise mushrooms, and which is closed, on a level with the ground, by a trap-door of rotten planks. The campagna of Rome is one idea, the banlieue of Paris is another; to behold nothing but fields, houses, or trees in what a stretch of country offers us, is to remain on the surface; all aspects of things are thoughts of God. The spot where a plain effects its junction with a city is always stamped with a certain piercing melancholy. Nature and humanity both appeal to you at the same time there. Local originalities there make their appearance.

Any one who, like ourselves, has wandered about in these solitudes contiguous to our faubourgs, which may be designated as the limbos of Paris, has seen here and there, in the most desert spot, at the most unexpected moment, behind a meagre hedge, or in the corner of a lugubrious wall, children grouped tumultuously, fetid, muddy, dusty, ragged, dishevelled, playing hide-and-seek, and crowned with corn-flowers. All of them are little ones who have made their escape from poor families. The outer boulevard is their breathing space; the suburbs belong to them. There they are eternally playing truant. There they innocently sing their repertory of dirty songs. There they are, or rather, there they exist, far from every eye, in the sweet light of May or June, kneeling round a hole in the ground, snapping marbles with their thumbs, quarrelling over half-farthings, irresponsible, volatile, free and happy; and, no sooner do they catch sight of you than they recollect that they have an industry, and that they must earn their living, and they offer to sell you an old woollen stocking filled with cockchafers, or a bunch of lilacs. These encounters with strange children are one of the charming and at the same time poignant graces of the environs of Paris.

Sometimes there are little girls among the throng of boys,-- are they their sisters?--who are almost young maidens, thin, feverish, with sunburnt hands, covered with freckles, crowned with poppies and ears of rye, gay, haggard, barefooted. They can be seen devouring cherries among the wheat. In the evening they can be heard laughing. These groups, warmly illuminated by the full glow of midday, or indistinctly seen in the twilight, occupy the thoughtful man for a very long time, and these visions mingle with his dreams.

Paris, centre, banlieue, circumference; this constitutes all the earth to those children. They never venture beyond this. They can no more escape from the Parisian atmosphere than fish can escape from the water. For them, nothing exists two leagues beyond the barriers: Ivry, Gentilly, Arcueil, Belleville, Aubervilliers, Menilmontant, Choisy-le-Roi, Billancourt, Mendon, Issy, Vanvre, Sevres, Puteaux, Neuilly, Gennevilliers, Colombes, Romainville, Chatou, Asnieres, Bougival, Nanterre, Enghien, Noisy-le-Sec, Nogent, Gournay, Drancy, Gonesse; the universe ends there.

野孩爱城市，也爱幽静，他多少有些逸兴闲情。眷恋都邑如弗斯克斯①，眷恋山林如弗拉克斯②。

①弗斯克斯（Fuscus），贺拉斯作品中之人物。

②弗拉克斯（Fuscus），一世纪拉丁诗人。　

边走边想，就是说，信步游荡，那是哲人消遣时光的好办法，尤其在环绕某些大城市棗特别是巴黎棗的那种相当丑陋怪诞、并由这两种景物合成的乡村里更是如此。观赏城郊，有如观赏两栖动物。树木的尽头，屋顶的开始，野草的尽头，石块路面的开始，犁迹的尽头，店铺的开始，车辙的尽头，欲望的开始，天籁的尽头，人声的开始，因此特别能令人兴趣盎然。

因此，富于冥想的人爱在那些缺少诱惑力、从来就被过路行人视作“凄凉”的地方，带着漫无目的的神情徘徊观望。

写这几行字的人从前就常在巴黎四郊盘桓，今天对他来说，那也还是深切回忆的源泉。那些浅草，多石的小路，白垩，粘土，石灰渣，索然寡味的荒地和休耕地，在洼地上突然出现的由菜农培植的尝鲜蔬菜，这一自然界和资产阶级的结合现象，荒凉寥廓的林野，在那里军营里的鼓手们，仿佛以训练为儿戏，把战鼓敲得一片乱响，白天的旷野，黑夜的凶地，临风摇摆的风车，工地上的辘轳，坟场角上的酒店，被深色高墙纵横截划为若干方块的大片荒地上的奇情异景，阳光明媚，蝴蝶万千，凡此种种都吸引着他。

世上几乎没有人不认识下面这些奇怪的地方：冰窖、古内特、格勒内尔那道弹痕累累怪难看的墙、巴纳斯山、豺狼坑、马恩河畔的奥比埃镇、蒙苏里、伊索瓦尔坟，还有石料采尽后用来养菌、地上还有一道朽了的活板门的沙迪翁磐石。罗马附近的乡村是一种概念，巴黎附近的郊区又是另一种概念，我们对视野中的景物，如果只看见田野、房屋或树木，那就是停留在表面现象上，所有一切形形色色的事物都代表着上帝的意旨。原野和城市交接的地方总带着一种说不出的惆怅意味，沁人心脾。在那里，自然界和人类同时在你面前活动。地方的特色也在那些地方呈现出来了。

我们四郊附近的那些荒野，可以称为巴黎的晕珥，凡是和我们一样曾在那里游荡过的人，都瞥见过这儿那儿，在最偏僻的处所，最料想不到的时刻，或在一个阴惨的墙角里，一些吵吵闹闹、三五成群、面黄肌瘦、满身尘土、衣服破烂、蓬头散发的孩子，他们戴着矢车菊的花圈在作掷钱游戏①。那些全是从贫苦人家溜出来的小孩。城外的林荫路是他们呼吸的地方，郊野是他们的天地。他们永远在那些地方虚度光阴。他们天真烂漫地唱着成套的下流歌曲。他们待在那些地方，应当说，他们在那些地方生存，不被大家注意，在五月或六月的和煦阳光下，大家在地上一个小洞周围跪着，弯着大拇指打弹子，争夺一两文钱的胜负，没有什么责任感，遥遥自在，没人管束，心情欢快；他们一见到你，忽又想起他们是有正当职业的，并且得解决生活，于是跑来找你买一只爬满金龟子的旧毛袜或是一束丁香。碰到那种怪孩子也是巴黎郊外一种饶有情趣的乐事，同时也使人感到心寒。

①一种游戏。在地上画圈，把钱币放在里面，用另一枚钱币把它打出圈外。

有时，在那一堆堆男孩中也有一些女孩棗是他们的姐妹吗？棗她们已几乎是大姑娘了，瘦，浮躁，两手焦黑，脸上有雀斑，头上插着黑麦穗子和虞美人，快乐，粗野，赤脚。有些待在麦田里吃樱桃。人们在夜间听到她们的笑声。这一群群被中午的骄阳晒到火热、或又依稀隐显在暮色中的孩子，常使富于遐想的人黯然神伤，久久不能忘怀，梦中也还受到那些幻象的萦扰。

巴黎，中心，郊区，圆周，那便是那些孩子的整个世界。他们从来不越过那个范围。他们不能超出巴黎的大气层，正如游鱼不能离开水面。对他们来说，远离城门两法里以外，什么都没有。伊夫里、让第以、阿格伊、贝尔维尔、欧贝维利埃、梅尼孟丹、舒瓦齐勒罗瓦、比扬古、默东、伊西、凡沃尔、塞夫勒、普托、讷伊、让纳维利埃、科隆布、罗曼维尔、沙图、阿涅尔、布吉瓦尔、楠泰尔、安吉、努瓦西勒塞克、诺让、古尔内、德朗西、哥乃斯，①那便是宇宙的尽头了。

①这些都是巴黎近郊的地名。