Lu Xun Complete Works/zh-ja/Kuangren Riji

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中文 (原文) 日本語 (翻訳)
= 狂人日记 = = 狂人日記 (狂人日记) =
鲁迅全集翻訳プロジェクトの一部。 魯迅 (ルーシュン, 1881–1936)
== 中文原文 == 中国語から日本語への翻訳。
=== 第1節 === === Section 1 ===
狂人日记




 某君昆仲。今隐其名,皆余昔日在中学校时良友;分隔多年,消息渐阙。日前偶闻其一大病;适归故乡,迂道往访,则仅晤一人,言病者其弟也。劳君远道来视,然已早愈,赴某地候补矣。因大笑,出示日记二册,谓可见当日病状,不妨献诸旧友。持归阅一过,知所患盖“迫害狂”之类。语颇错杂无伦次,又多荒唐之言;亦不著月日,惟墨色字体不一,知非一时所书。间亦有略具联络者,今撮录一篇,以供医家研究,记中语误,一字不易;惟人名虽皆村人,不为世间所知,无关大体,然亦悉易去。至于书名,则本人愈后所题,不复改也。七年四月二日识。



 今天晚上,很好的月光。
 我不见他,已是三十多年;今天见了,精神分外爽快。才知道以前的三十多年,全是发昏;然而须十分小心。不然,那赵家的狗,何以看我两眼呢?
 我怕得有理。



 今天全没月光,我知道不妙。早上小心出门,赵贵翁的眼色便怪:似乎怕我,似乎想害我。还有七八个人,交头接耳的议论我。又怕我看见。一路上的人,都是如此。其中最凶的一个人,张着嘴,对我笑了一笑;我便从头直冷到脚跟,晓得他们布置,都已妥当了。
 我可不怕,仍旧走我的路。前面一伙小孩子,也在那里议论我;眼色也同赵贵翁一样,脸色也都铁青。我想我同小孩子有什么仇,他也这样。忍不住大声说:“你告诉我!”他们可就跑了。
 我想:我同赵贵翁有什么仇,同路上的人又有什么仇;只有廿年以前,把古久先生的陈年流水簿子,踹了一脚,古久先生很不高兴。赵贵翁虽然不认识他,一定也听到风声,代抱不平;约定路上的人,同我作冤对。但是小孩子呢?那时候,他们还没有出世,何以今天也睁着怪眼睛,似乎怕我,似乎想害我。这真教我怕,教我纳罕而且伤心。
 我明白了,这是他们娘老子教的!



 晚上总是睡不着。凡事须得研究,才会明白。
 他们——也有给知县打枷过的,也有给绅士掌过嘴的,也有衙役占了他妻子的,也有老子娘被债主逼死的;他们那时候的脸色,全没有昨天这么怕,也没有这么凶。
 最奇怪的是昨天街上的那个女人,打他儿子,嘴里说道,“老子呀!我要咬你几口才出气!”他眼睛却看着我。我出了一惊,遮掩不住;那青面獠牙的一伙人,便都哄笑起来。陈老五赶上前,硬把我拖回家中了。
 拖我回家,家里的人都装作不认识我;他们的眼色,也全同别人一样。进了书房,便反扣上门,宛然是关了一只鸡鸭。这一件事,越教我猜不出底细。
 前几天,狼子村的佃户来告荒,对我大哥说,他们村里的一个大恶人,给大家打死了;几个人便挖出他的心肝来,用油煎炒了吃,可以壮壮胆子。我插了一句嘴,佃户和大哥便都看我几眼。今天才晓得他们的眼光,全同外面的那伙人一模一样。
 想起来,我从顶上直冷到脚跟。
 他们会吃人,就未必不会吃我。
 你看那女人“咬你几口”的话,和一伙青面獠牙人的笑,和前天佃户的话,明明是暗号。我看出他话中全是毒,笑中全是刀,他们的牙齿,全是白厉厉的排着,这就是吃人的家伙。
 照我自己想,虽然不是恶人,自从踹了古家的簿子,可就难说了。他们似乎别有心思,我全猜不出。况且他们一翻脸,便说人是恶人。我还记得大哥教我做论,无论怎样好人,翻他几句,他便打上几个圈;原谅坏人几句,他便说:“翻天妙手,与众不同”。我那里猜得到他们的心思,究竟怎样;况且是要吃的时候。
 凡事总须研究,才会明白,古来时常吃人,我也还记得,可是不甚清楚。我翻开历史一查,这历史没有年代,歪歪斜斜的每页上都写着“仁义道德”几个字。我横竖睡不着,仔细看了半夜,才从字缝里看出字来,满本都写着两个字是“吃人”!
 书上写着这许多字,佃户说了这许多话,却都笑吟吟的睁着怪眼睛
 看我。
 我也是人,他们想要吃我了!



 早上,我静坐了一会。陈老五送进饭来,一碗菜,一碗蒸鱼;这鱼的眼睛,白而且硬,张着嘴,同那一伙想吃人的人一样。吃了几筷,滑溜溜的不知是鱼是人,便把他兜肚连肠的吐出。
 我说“老五,对大哥说,我闷得慌,想到园里走走。”老五不答应,走了,停一会,可就来开了门。
 我也不动,研究他们如何摆布我;知道他们一定不肯放松。果然!我大哥引了一个老头子,慢慢走来;他满眼凶光,怕我看出,只是低头向着地,从眼镜横边暗暗看我。大哥说:“今天你仿佛很好。”我说:“是的。”大哥说:“今天请何先生来,给你诊一诊。”我说:“可以!”其实我岂不知道这老头子是刽子手扮的!无非借了看脉这名目,揣一揣肥瘠:因这功劳,也分一片肉吃。我也不怕;虽然不吃人,胆子却比他们还壮。伸出两个拳头,看他如何下手。老头子坐着,闭了眼睛,摸了好一会,呆了好一会;便张开他鬼眼睛说:“不要乱想。静静的养几天,就好了。”
 不要乱想,静静的养!养肥了,他们是自然可以多吃;我有什么好处,怎么会“好了”?他们这群人,又想吃人,又是鬼鬼祟祟,想法子遮掩,不敢直捷下手,真要令我笑死,我忍不住,便放声大笑起来,十分快活。自己晓得这笑声里面,有的是义勇和正气。老头子和大哥,都失了色,被我这勇气正气镇压住了。
 但是我有勇气,他们便越想吃我,沾光一点这勇气。老头子跨出门,走不多远,便低声对大哥说道:“赶紧吃罢!”大哥点点头。原来也有你!这一件大发见,虽似意外,也在意中:合伙吃我的人,便是我的
 哥哥!
 吃人的是我哥哥!
 我是吃人的人的兄弟!
 我自己被人吃了,可仍然是吃人的人的兄弟!



 这几天是退一步想:假使那老头子不是刽子手扮的,真是医生,也仍然是吃人的人。他们的祖师李时珍做的“本草什么”上,明明写着人肉可以煎吃;他还能说自己不吃人么?
 至于我家大哥,也毫不冤枉他。他对我讲书的时候,亲口说过可以“易子而食”;又一回偶然议论起一个不好的人,他便说不但该杀,还当“食肉寝皮”。我那时年纪还小,心跳了好半天。前天狼子村佃户来说吃心肝的事,他也毫不奇怪,不住的点头。可见心思是同从前一样狠。既然可以“易子而食”,便什么都易得,什么人都吃得。我从前单听他讲道理,也胡涂过去;现在晓得他讲道理的时候,不但唇边还抹着人油,而且心里满装着吃人的意思。



 黑漆漆的,不知是日是夜。赵家的狗又叫起来了。
 狮子似的凶心,兔子的怯弱,狐狸的狡猾,……


 我晓得他们的方法,直捷杀了,是不肯的,而且也不敢,怕有祸祟。所以他们大家连络,布满了罗网,逼我自戕。试看前几天街上男女的样子,和这几天我大哥的作为,便足可悟出八九分了。最好是解下腰带,挂在梁上,自己紧紧勒死;他们没有杀人的罪名,又偿了心愿,自然都欢天喜地的发出一种呜呜咽咽的笑声。否则惊吓忧愁死了,虽则略瘦,也还可以首肯几下。
 他们是只会吃死肉的!——记得什么书上说,有一种东西,叫“海乙那”的,眼光和样子都很难看;时常吃死肉,连极大的骨头,都细细嚼烂,咽下肚子去,想起来也教人害怕。“海乙那”是狼的亲眷,狼是狗的本家。前天赵家的狗,看我几眼,可见他也同谋,早已接洽。老头子眼看着地,岂能瞒得我过。
 最可怜的是我的大哥,他也是人,何以毫不害怕;而且合伙吃我呢?还是历来惯了,不以为非呢?还是丧了良心,明知故犯呢?
 我诅咒吃人的人,先从他起头;要劝转吃人的人,也先从他下手。



 其实这种道理,到了现在,他们也该早已懂得,……
 忽然来了一个人;年纪不过二十左右,相貌是不很看得清楚,满面笑容,对了我点头,他的笑也不像真笑。我便问他,“吃人的事,对么?”他仍然笑着说,“不是荒年,怎么会吃人。”我立刻就晓得,他也是一伙,喜欢吃人的;便自勇气百倍,偏要问他。
 “对么?”
 “这等事问他甚么。你真会……说笑话。……今天天气很好。”
 天气是好,月色也很亮了。可是我要问你,“对么?”
 他不以为然了。含含胡胡的答道,“不……”
 “不对?他们何以竟吃?!”
 “没有的事……”
 “没有的事?狼子村现吃;还有书上都写着,通红斩新!”
 他便变了脸,铁一般青。睁着眼说,“有许有的,这是从来如此……”
 “从来如此,便对么?”
 “我不同你讲这些道理;总之你不该说,你说便是你错!”
 我直跳起来,张开眼,这人便不见了。全身出了一大片汗,他的年纪,比我大哥小得远,居然也是一伙;这一定是他娘老子先教的。还怕已经教给他儿子了;所以连小孩子,也都恶狠狠的看我。



 自己想吃人,又怕被别人吃了,都用着疑心极深的眼光,面面相觑。……
 去了这心思,放心做事走路吃饭睡觉,何等舒服。这只是一条门槛,一个关头。他们可是父子、兄弟、夫妇、朋友、师生、仇敌和各不相识的人,都结成一伙,互相劝勉,互相牵掣,死也不肯跨过这一步。



 大清早,去寻我大哥;他立在堂门外看天,我便走到他背后,拦住门,格外沉静,格外和气的对他说:
 “大哥,我有话告诉你。”
 “你说就是。”他赶紧回过脸来,点点头。
 “我只有几句话,可是说不出来。大哥,大约当初野蛮的人,都吃过一点人。后来因为心思不同,有的不吃人了,一味要好,便变了人,变了真的人。有的却还吃,——也同虫子一样,有的变了鱼、鸟、猴子,一直变到人。有的不要好,至今还是虫子。这吃人的人比不吃人的人,何等惭愧。怕比虫子的惭愧猴子,还差得很远很远。
 “易牙蒸了他儿子,给桀纣吃,还是一直从前的事。谁晓得从盘古开辟天地以后,一直吃到易牙的儿子;从易牙的儿子,一直吃到徐锡林;从徐锡林,又一直吃到狼子村捉住的人。去年城里杀了犯人,还有一个生痨病的人,用馒头蘸血舐。
 “他们要吃我,你一个人,原也无法可想;然而又何必去入伙。吃人的人,什么事做不出;他们会吃我,也会吃你,一伙里面,也会自吃。但只要转一步,只要立刻改了,也就人人太平。虽然从来如此,我们今天也可以格外要好,说是不能!大哥,我相信你能说,前天佃户要减租,你说过不能。”
 当初,他还只是冷笑,随后眼光便凶狠起来,一到说破他们的隐情,那就满脸都变成青色了。大门外立着一伙人,赵贵翁和他的狗,也在里面,都探头探脑的挨进来。有的是看不出面貌,似乎用布蒙着;有的是仍旧青面獠牙,抿着嘴笑。我认识他们是一伙,都是吃人的人。可是也晓得他们心思很不一样,一种是以为从来如此,应该吃的;一种是知道不该吃,可是仍然要吃,又怕别人说破他,所以听了我的话,越发气愤不过,可是抿着嘴冷笑。
 这时候,大哥也忽然显出凶相,高声喝道:
 “都出去!疯子有什么好看!”
 这时候,我又懂得一件他们的巧妙了。他们岂但不肯改,而且早已布置;预备下一个疯子的名目罩上我。将来吃了,不但太平无事,怕还会有人见情。佃户说的大家吃了一个恶人,正是这方法。这是他们的老谱!
 陈老五也气愤愤的直走进来。如何按得住我的口,我偏要对这伙人说,
 “你们可以改了,从真心改起!要晓得将来容不得吃人的人,活在世上。
 “你们要不改,自己也会吃尽。即使生得多,也会给真的人除灭了,同猎人打完狼子一样!——同虫子一样!”
 那一伙人,都被陈老五赶走了。大哥也不知那里去了。陈老五劝我回屋子里去。屋里面全是黑沉沉的。横梁和椽子都在头上发抖;抖了一会,就大起来,堆在我身上。
 万分沉重,动弹不得;他的意思是要我死。我晓得他的沉重是假的,便挣扎出来,出了一身汗。可是偏要说,
 “你们立刻改了,从真心改起!你们要晓得将来是容不得吃人的人,……”


 十一


 太阳也不出,门也不开,日日是两顿饭。
 我捏起筷子,便想起我大哥;晓得妹子死掉的缘故,也全在他。那时我妹子才五岁,可爱可怜的样子,还在眼前。母亲哭个不住,他却劝母亲不要哭;大约因为自己吃了,哭起来不免有点过意不去。如果还能过意不去,……
 妹子是被大哥吃了,母亲知道没有,我可不得而知。
 母亲想也知道;不过哭的时候,却并没有说明,大约也以为应当的了。记得我四五岁时,坐在堂前乘凉,大哥说爷娘生病,做儿子的须割下一片肉来,煮熟了请他吃,才算好人;母亲也没有说不行。一片吃得,整个的自然也吃得。但是那天的哭法,现在想起来,实在还教人伤心,这真是奇极的事!


 十二


 不能想了。
 四千年来时时吃人的地方,今天才明白,我也在其中混了多年;大哥正管着家务,妹子恰恰死了,他未必不和在饭菜里,暗暗给我们吃。
 我未必无意之中,不吃了我妹子的几片肉,现在也轮到我自己,……
 有了四千年吃人履历的我,当初虽然不知道,现在明白,难见真的人!


 十三


 没有吃过人的孩子,或者还有?
 救救孩子……


 (一九一八年四月。)
A Madman's Diary


Two brothers, whose names I shall conceal here, were both good friends of mine during our years at middle school. Over time we lost touch, and news of them grew ever scarcer. Not long ago I happened to learn that one of them had fallen gravely ill. As I was just then returning to my hometown, I made a detour to visit them, but found only one of the two at home. He told me the patient was his younger brother. "It was good of you to come all this way to see him, but he recovered long ago and has gone to take up an official post somewhere." At this he laughed heartily and produced two volumes of a diary, saying they would reveal his brother's condition during the illness and that there was no harm in showing them to an old friend. I took them home and read them through. The entries revealed that the patient had suffered from a form of persecution complex. The language was incoherent and disjointed, full of wild ravings; there were no dates, though variations in ink colour and handwriting showed that the entries had not been written at one sitting. Here and there a certain thread of logic could be discerned. I have now copied out one of these pieces to make it available for medical research. Not a single word of the original errors has been changed; only the names — all villagers unknown to the wider world and of no consequence — have been altered throughout. As for the title, it was chosen by the patient himself after his recovery, and I have not changed it. Recorded on the 2nd day of the 4th month of the 7th year.


I


A fine moonlit night tonight.

I have not seen him for over thirty years; today, when I caught sight of him, I felt extraordinarily refreshed. Only now do I realize that the past thirty-odd years have been nothing but a stupor. Yet one must exercise the utmost caution. Otherwise, why should the dog at the Zhao (趙) household have given me those looks?

I have every reason to be afraid.


II


No moon at all tonight — I know this bodes ill. When I stepped out cautiously this morning, old Zhao Guiweng (趙貴翁) had a peculiar look in his eyes: he seemed to be afraid of me, yet at the same time to mean me harm. Seven or eight other people were huddled together, whispering about me, afraid I might see them. Everyone I met on the road was the same. The most vicious among them opened his mouth wide and grinned at me; then a chill ran from the crown of my head to the soles of my feet, for I knew: their preparations were complete.

I am not afraid, though, and continue on my way. Ahead, a group of children were also discussing me; the look in their eyes was the same as Zhao Guiweng's, and their faces were ashen. I wondered what grudge I could possibly have with children, that they too should act this way. I could not restrain myself and called out: "Tell me!" But they ran off.

I thought: what grudge is there between me and Zhao Guiweng? What grudge between me and the people on the road? The only thing I can think of is that twenty years ago I trampled on old Mr. Gujiu's (古久先生) age-old account ledger, which greatly displeased him. Although Zhao Guiweng doesn't even know him, he must have got wind of it and taken up his cause in indignation; he conspired with the people on the road to make an enemy of me. But the children? They had not yet been born at that time — why do they stare at me today with such strange eyes, as though they feared me and wished to harm me? This truly frightens me; I find it bewildering and deeply hurtful.

Now I understand. Their mothers and fathers taught them!


III


I can never sleep at night. One must investigate things before one can understand them.

Those people — some of them have been put in the stocks by the magistrate, some have been slapped in the face by the gentry, some have had their wives taken by the yamen runners, some have had their parents driven to death by creditors. Their faces at those times bore nothing like yesterday's expression of fear and ferocity.

The strangest thing was the woman on the street yesterday who was beating her son, crying: "You wretch! I could just eat you alive — take a few bites out of you to vent my rage!" Yet her eyes were fixed on me. I was so startled I could not conceal it; then the whole mob with their greenish faces and jutting fangs burst into roars of laughter. Old Chen Wu (陳老五) rushed up and dragged me forcibly home.

After he had dragged me home, everyone in the house pretended not to know me; the look in their eyes was exactly the same as all the others'. They ushered me into the study and bolted the door behind me, just as if they were locking up a chicken or a duck. This business baffled me all the more.

A few days ago, a tenant farmer from Wolf Cub Village (狼子村) came to report a famine to my elder brother. He said that in their village a notorious villain had been beaten to death by the mob; several people had gouged out his heart and liver, fried them in oil, and eaten them to bolster their courage. When I put in a word, the tenant farmer and my brother both gave me a long look. Only today do I realize: their looks were exactly the same as those of the mob outside.

The thought sends a chill from the crown of my head to the soles of my feet.

If they can eat people, then they can certainly eat me.

Consider the woman's words — "eat you alive, take a few bites" — and the laughter of the mob with their greenish faces and fangs, and the tenant farmer's words the other day: these are plainly secret signals. I can see that their words are full of poison and their laughter is full of knives. Their teeth are arrayed in white, gleaming rows — these are the implements of cannibalism.

When I think about it: although I myself am not a bad person, ever since I trampled on old Gujiu's ledger, anything is possible. They seem to have some other design that I cannot fathom. Besides, the moment they turn on you, they declare you a villain. I still remember how my elder brother taught me to write essays: no matter how good a person was, if you turned a few phrases against him, he would mark it with a circle of approval; but if you forgave a villain with a few kind words, he would praise it as "a stroke of genius, most extraordinary." How can I fathom their intentions — especially when they are about to devour someone?

One must investigate everything before one can understand. In ancient times people were often eaten — I remember that much, though not very clearly. I opened the history books and looked: this history has no dates, but scrawled across every page, in crooked characters, are the words "Benevolence, Righteousness, Morality, and Virtue." Since I could not sleep anyway, I read carefully through half the night until at last I managed to make out words between the lines. The entire book was filled with just two words — "EAT PEOPLE"!

All these words are written in the books, all these things the tenant farmer said — and all the while they stare at me with a grin and strange, fixed eyes.

I too am a human being, and they want to eat me!


IV


In the morning I sat quietly for a while. Old Chen Wu brought in the food: a dish of vegetables and a dish of steamed fish. The eyes of this fish — white, hard, and its mouth agape — looked just like the mob that wants to eat people. After I had taken a few mouthfuls with my chopsticks — so slippery I could not tell whether it was fish or human flesh — I spewed everything out, entrails and all.

I said: "Old Wu, tell my brother I feel stifled and would like to take a walk in the garden." Old Wu did not reply and went out; after a short while, however, he came back and opened the door.

I did not move, but watched to see what they intended to do with me; I knew they would not simply let me go. Sure enough! My elder brother led in an old man, who shuffled slowly toward me. His eyes were brimming with murderous intent, and fearing I might notice, he lowered his head and peered at me sideways over the rim of his spectacles. My brother said: "You seem quite well today." I said: "Yes." My brother said: "I have asked Mr. He (何先生) to come and examine you today." I said: "By all means." Yet I knew perfectly well that this old man was a disguised executioner! Under the pretext of taking my pulse, he was merely sizing me up to see whether I was fat or lean — and as a reward for this service he too would get a share of the meat. I was not afraid; although I myself do not eat people, my courage surpasses theirs. I thrust out both fists to see how he would proceed. The old man sat down, closed his eyes, and felt me over for a long time, then remained motionless for another long while; at last he opened his ghoulish eyes and said: "Don't think too much. Rest quietly for a few days, and you will be well."

Don't think too much, rest quietly! Fatten me up so they can eat more of me! What good would it do me — how would I get "well"? This mob — on one hand they want to eat people, on the other they skulk about furtively, trying to find pretexts, not daring to strike openly — it really is enough to make one die laughing. I could not contain myself and burst into peals of laughter, which gave me great satisfaction. I knew: this laughter was filled with nothing but courage and integrity. The old man and my brother both turned pale — my courage and integrity had cowed them.

But precisely because I have courage, they want to eat me all the more, to absorb some of it. The old man stepped out the door, and before he had gone far, he said to my brother in a low voice: "Eat him at once!" My brother nodded. So — you too! This momentous discovery, though it seems unexpected, is after all not surprising: the one who has conspired with the others to eat me is my very own

brother!

A cannibal — that is my brother!

I am the brother of a cannibal!

I myself am to be eaten — and yet I am still the brother of a cannibal!


V


These past few days I have taken my thinking one step further: even if that old man were not a disguised executioner but a genuine doctor, he would still be a cannibal. In the "Bencao-Something-or-Other" written by their patriarch Li Shizhen (李時珍), it is stated in black and white that human flesh may be sliced, fried, and eaten — so how can he still claim he does not eat people?

As for my elder brother, I do him no injustice whatsoever. When he was explaining books to me, he himself said — with his own mouth — that one may "exchange children and eat them"; and on another occasion, when the conversation happened to touch upon an odious individual, he said the man ought not only to be killed but to "have his flesh eaten and his hide slept upon." I was still young then, and my heart pounded for a long time. The other day, when the tenant farmer from Wolf Cub Village told the story of eating hearts and livers, he showed not the slightest surprise and kept nodding. Clearly his mind is as cruel as it ever was. If one may "exchange children and eat them," then anything may be exchanged and anyone may be eaten. In the past I let myself be lulled by his talk of reason and justice; now I know: when he spoke of reason and justice, not only were his lips still smeared with human grease, but his heart was brimming with the intent to devour.


VI


Pitch-black all around — I cannot tell whether it is day or night. The Zhao family's dog has started barking again.

Ferocious as a lion, timid as a hare, cunning as a fox …


VII


I know their methods. They will not commit outright murder — they are unwilling, and moreover they lack the nerve, for they fear retribution. So they all join forces, spread their nets, and drive me to kill myself. Just observe the behaviour of the men and women on the street these past few days and the conduct of my elder brother — then eight or nine tenths of the matter become clear. The best course would be for me to remove my belt, hang it from the roof beam, and strangle myself. Then they would bear no guilt for murder and yet have their heart's desire fulfilled — naturally they would burst into a kind of sobbing, choked laughter of delight. Otherwise, if I were to die of fright and grief — though I would be somewhat thin — they could still nod in approval.

They eat only dead flesh! I recall reading in some book about a creature called the "hyena," with an ugly look and ugly appearance, which constantly feeds on carrion and crunches even the largest bones to splinters before swallowing them — the very thought is terrifying. The hyena is kin to the wolf, and the wolf is cousin to the dog. The other day the Zhao family's dog stared at me — clearly it too is in league with them and made arrangements long ago. The old man pretends to stare at the ground — does he think he can fool me?

Most pitiful of all is my elder brother: he too is a human being — why is he not the least bit afraid, but on the contrary joins in the conspiracy to eat me? Is it force of habit, because it has always been so, and he sees nothing wrong in it? Or has he lost his conscience and acts in full knowledge of his crime?

I curse the cannibals — beginning with him; and if I am to persuade the cannibals to turn from their ways, I shall likewise begin with him.


VIII


In truth they ought to have understood this principle long ago …

Suddenly a man came in, no more than twenty years old. I could not see his face clearly; he was all smiles and nodded to me, but his smile did not look genuine. I asked him: "Is it right to eat people?" Still smiling, he said: "It's not a famine year — how could anyone eat people?" I knew at once that he too was one of the gang, a willing cannibal; so, my courage redoubled, I pressed him:

"Is it right?"

"What kind of question is that? You really are … quite the joker. … Lovely weather today."

The weather is fine, and the moonlight is bright too. But I want to ask you: "Is it right?"

He did not think this proper. Mumbling vaguely, he answered: "No …"

"Not right? Then why do they go on doing it?!"

"There's no such thing …"

"No such thing? In Wolf Cub Village they're eating people right now — and it's written in the books too, in fresh red ink!"

His face changed; it turned iron-grey. He fixed me with his eyes and said: "Perhaps there is … it has always been this way …"

"Always been this way — does that make it right?"

"I don't want to discuss such things with you. In any case you shouldn't have said it; the moment you say it, you're in the wrong!"

I leapt to my feet and opened my eyes wide — but the man had vanished. I was drenched in sweat. He is much younger than my brother, yet he too belongs to the gang; his parents must have taught him. And I fear he has already passed it on to his own children; that is why even the little ones glare at me with such hatred.


IX


They want to eat people themselves, yet at the same time they are afraid of being eaten by others — and so they eye one another with looks of the deepest suspicion …

If only they would cast off this obsession, they could work, walk, eat, and sleep in perfect ease — what comfort that would be! It is only a single threshold, a single turning point. Yet they — fathers and sons, brothers, husbands and wives, friends, teachers and students, mortal enemies and total strangers — have all banded together, encouraging one another and holding one another back, preferring death to taking this one step.


X


Early in the morning I went to find my elder brother. He was standing outside the hall door, gazing at the sky. I stepped behind him, blocked the doorway, and said to him with particular calm and particular gentleness:

"Brother, I have something to tell you."

"Go ahead," he said hastily, turning to face me with a nod.

"It is only a few words, but I cannot get them out. Brother, in all likelihood, in the beginning, primitive people all ate a little human flesh at one time or another. Later, because their way of thinking changed, some stopped eating people and strove constantly to be good — they became human beings, true human beings. Others went on eating — just like insects: some evolved into fish, birds, apes, and finally into humans; others never strove to be good and remain insects to this day. How ashamed the cannibals must be before those who do not eat people! Far more ashamed, I dare say, than the insects before the apes.

"Yi Ya (易牙) cooked his own son and served him to the tyrants Jie and Zhou (桀紂) — but that was an affair of ancient times. Who knows how long it has gone on: ever since Pangu (盤古) separated heaven and earth, people have been eating each other without cease — from Yi Ya's son down to Xu Xilin (徐錫林); from Xu Xilin down to the man they caught in Wolf Cub Village. Last year, when they executed a criminal in the city, a consumptive soaked his steamed bun (饅頭) in the blood and licked it.

"They want to eat me — you alone can do nothing about it. But why must you join them? Cannibals are capable of anything; if they can eat me, they can eat you too — even within the gang they devour one another. But if only you would take a single step, if only you would change at once, then everyone would have peace. Although it has always been this way, we could resolve today to be especially good — and say it cannot be otherwise! Brother, I believe you can say it. The other day, when the tenant farmer asked for a rent reduction, you said it could not be done."

At first he merely smiled coldly. Then his expression turned savage, and when I laid bare their secret, his whole face went ashen. Outside the great gate stood a mob — Zhao Guiweng and his dog among them — all craning their necks and peering inward. Some I could not recognize, as though their faces were wrapped in cloth; others still wore the greenish complexion and jutting fangs, grinning with lips pressed tightly together. I knew them for what they were — a gang, all of them cannibals. But I also knew their minds were not all alike: some thought it had always been so and that one ought to eat; others knew one ought not to eat, yet wanted to do so all the same and feared only that someone might speak the truth — so when they heard my words, they grew all the more furious, yet they grinned coldly with lips pressed tight.

Then my elder brother suddenly assumed a savage expression and bellowed:

"Get out, all of you! What's there to see in a madman!"

At that moment I grasped another of their clever tricks. Not only were they unwilling to change — they had long since made preparations, having readied the label of "madman" to clap on me. When they eat me in the future, not only will there be no trouble, but there may even be people who feel sorry for me. When the tenant farmer told how everyone had eaten a villain together — that was precisely the same method. This is their time-honoured recipe!

Old Chen Wu came storming in, fuming. How could he silence me? I insisted on speaking to the mob:

"You can change — change from the bottom of your hearts! Know this: in the future there will be no place in this world for cannibals.

"If you do not change, you yourselves will be devoured. However many you breed, the true human beings will exterminate you — just as hunters finish off the wolves! Just as they stamp out the vermin!"

The whole mob was driven away by Old Chen Wu. My brother had disappeared somewhere too. Old Chen Wu urged me to return to my room. Inside, all was pitch black. The beams and rafters trembled above my head; they trembled for a while, then swelled and piled down upon me.

Infinitely heavy — I could not stir. He wanted me to die. But I knew the weight was an illusion, and I struggled free; sweat burst from every pore. Yet I insisted on saying:

"Change at once — change from the bottom of your hearts! Know this: in the future there will be no place for cannibals …"


XI


The sun does not rise; the door does not open. Day after day — two meals.

When I picked up my chopsticks, I thought of my elder brother; and then I understood the reason for my little sister's death — it was entirely his doing. My little sister was just five years old then — her sweet, pitiful face is still before my eyes. Mother wept without ceasing, but he urged her not to weep — probably because he had eaten her himself, and the weeping made him feel a twinge of guilt. If he could still feel guilt at all …

My little sister was eaten by my elder brother. Whether our mother knew, I cannot say.

Mother probably knew; yet when she wept, she did not speak of it — probably because she too thought it only natural. I remember when I was four or five years old, sitting on the veranda enjoying the cool of the evening, my brother said that when a father or mother is ill, a dutiful son must cut a piece of flesh from his own body, cook it, and serve it to them — only then could he be considered a good person. Mother did not say it was wrong. If one piece may be eaten, then the whole person may be eaten too. But the way she cried that day — when I think of it now, it still breaks my heart. Truly, this is a thing of the utmost strangeness!


XII


I can think of it no more.

For four thousand years, in this place, people have been eating one another without cease, and only today do I realize that I, too, have been living in their midst all these years. Just when my elder brother took over the household, our little sister happened to die. It is entirely possible that he mixed her into the food and fed her to us in secret.

It is entirely possible that I, unknowingly, ate several pieces of my little sister's flesh — and now it is my turn …

I, with my four-thousand-year history of cannibalism — though I did not know it at first, now that I understand, it is hard to look a true human being in the face!


XIII


Are there perhaps still children who have never eaten human flesh?

Save the children …


(April 1918.)

=== 第2節 === === Section 2 ===
母亲想也知道;不过哭的时候,却并没有说明,大约也以为应当的了。记得我四五岁时,坐在堂前乘凉,大哥说爷娘生病,做儿子的须割下一片肉来,煮熟了请他吃,才算好人;母亲也没有说不行。一片吃得,整个的自然也吃得。但是那天的哭法,现在想起来,实在还教人伤心,这真是奇极的事!



十二



不能想了。


四千年来时时吃人的地方,今天才明白,我也在其中混了多年;大哥正管着家务,妹子恰恰死了,他未必不和在饭菜里,暗暗给我们吃。


我未必无意之中,不吃了我妹子的几片肉,现在也轮到我自己,……


有了四千年吃人履历的我,当初虽然不知道,现在明白,难见真的人!



十三



没有吃过人的孩子,或者还有?


救救孩子……



(一九一八年四月。)

【一九一九年】






【对于“新潮”一部分的意见】




孟真先生:


来信收到了。现在对于《新潮》没有别的意见:倘以后想到什么,极愿意随时通知。


《新潮》每本里面有一二篇纯粹科学文,也是好的。但我的意见,以为不要太多;而且最好是无论如何总要对于中国的老病刺他几针,譬如说天文忽然骂阴历,讲生理终于打医生之类。现在老先生听人说“地球椭圆”,“元素七十七种”,是不反对的了。《新潮》里装满了这些文章,他们或者还暗地里高兴。(他们有许多很鼓吹少年专讲科学,不要议论,《新潮》三期通信内有史志元先生的信,似乎也上了他们的当。)现在偏要发议论,而且讲科学,讲科学而仍发议论,庶几乎他们依然不得安稳,我们也可告无罪于天下了。总而言之,从三皇五帝时代的眼光看来,讲科学和发议论都是蛇,无非前者是青梢蛇,后者是蝮蛇罢了;一朝有了棍子,就都要打死的。既然如此,自然还是毒重的好。——但蛇自己不肯被打,也自然不消说得。


《新潮》里的诗写景叙事的多,抒情的少,所以有点单调。此后能多有几样作风很不同的诗就好了。翻译外国的诗歌也是一种要事,可惜这事很不容易。


《狂人日记》很幼稚,而且太逼促,照艺术上说,是不应该的。来信说好,大约是夜间飞禽都归巢睡觉,所以单见蝙蝠能干了。我自己知道实在不是作家,现在的乱嚷,是想闹出几个新的创作家来,——我想中国总该有天才,被社会挤倒在底下,——破破中国的寂寞。


《新潮》里的《雪夜》,《这也是一个人》,《是爱情还是苦痛》,(起首有点小毛病,)都是好的。上海的小说家梦里也没有想到过。这样下去,创作很有点希望。《扇误》译的很好。《推霞》实在不敢恭维。




鲁迅。四月十六日。


(一九一九年五月,《新潮》一卷五号所载。)
Mother probably knew too; yet when she wept, she did not speak of it — probably because she too thought it only natural. I remember when I was four or five years old, sitting on the veranda enjoying the cool of the evening, my brother said that when a father or mother is ill, a dutiful son must cut a piece of flesh from his own body, cook it, and serve it to them — only then could he be considered a good person. Mother did not say it was wrong. If one piece may be eaten, then the whole person may be eaten too. But the way she cried that day — when I think of it now, it still breaks my heart. Truly, this is a thing of the utmost strangeness!


XII


I can think of it no more.

For four thousand years, in this place, people have been eating one another without cease, and only today do I realize that I, too, have been living in their midst all these years. Just when my elder brother took over the household, our little sister happened to die. It is entirely possible that he mixed her into the food and fed her to us in secret.

It is entirely possible that I, unknowingly, ate several pieces of my little sister's flesh — and now it is my turn …

I, with my four-thousand-year history of cannibalism — though I did not know it at first, now that I understand, it is hard to look a true human being in the face!


XIII


Are there perhaps still children who have never eaten human flesh?

Save the children …


(April 1918.)

[1919]


[Opinions on a Part of "New Tide"]


Dear Mr. Mengzhen,

I have received your letter. At present I have no particular remarks on the "New Tide" (新潮); should anything occur to me later, I shall be glad to let you know at any time.

That each issue of the "New Tide" contains one or two purely scientific articles is a good thing. But my opinion is that there should not be too many, and it would be best in any case to give China's old malady a few jabs — for instance, when writing about astronomy, suddenly to rail at the lunar calendar, or in a treatise on physiology, to end up thrashing the doctor. The old gentlemen have by now nothing to say against such statements as "the earth is an ellipse" or "there are seventy-seven elements." If the "New Tide" were stuffed with articles of this kind, they might even secretly rejoice. (Many of them enthusiastically urge the young to stick to science and refrain from offering opinions; in the correspondence section of the third issue of the "New Tide" there is a letter from a Mr. Shi Zhiyuan who seems to have fallen for this very ruse.) But if one now proceeds to offer opinions all the same, under the banner of science — pursues science yet still voices opinions — then they may still find no peace, and we may declare ourselves blameless before the world. In short: from the vantage point of the era of the Three August Ones and Five Emperors, both science and the voicing of opinions are serpents — the difference being that the former is a green snake and the latter a viper; once one has a stick, one beats both to death. That being the case, it is naturally better to be the more venomous one. — But that the snake itself has no wish to be beaten goes without saying.

The poems in the "New Tide" are for the most part descriptive and narrative; lyrical verse is rare, which produces a certain monotony. It would be good if in future there were poems in a greater variety of styles. Translating foreign poetry is also an important undertaking, but unfortunately a very difficult one.

"A Madman's Diary" is rather immature and moreover too compressed; from an artistic standpoint, this is not as it should be. That your letter praises it is probably because at night all the birds have gone to roost, so that only the bat seems capable of anything. I know very well that I am not really a writer; my present clamour is intended to bring a few new creative writers to light — I believe China must have talents who have been crushed beneath society — and to break the silence of China.

In the "New Tide," "A Snowy Night," "This Too Is a Person," and "Is It Love or Suffering" (with a slight blemish at the opening) are all good. The fiction writers of Shanghai could not have dreamed of such work. If things continue in this vein, creative writing has real promise. "The Fan Misunderstanding" is well translated. "Tui Xia," on the other hand, I really cannot commend.


Lu Xun. April 16th.

(May 1919, published in "New Tide," Volume 1, Number 5.)