I ALWAYS EXPERIENCED the beginning of a new school year as a watershed. Moving up from tenth to eleventh grade was a major one. My class was disbanded among the three other parallel classes. Quite a few students had failed to make the grade, so four small classes were combined into three larger ones.
My high school traditionally had taken only boys. When girls began to be accepted, there were so few of them to begin with that they were not divided equally among the parallel classes, but were assigned to a single class, then later to a second and a third, until they made up a third of each class. There were not enough girls in my year for any to be assigned to my former class. We were the fourth parallel class, and all boys, which is why we were the ones to be disbanded and reassigned, and not one of the other classes.
We didn’t find out about it until school began. The principal summoned us into a classroom and informed us about the why and how of our reassignment. Along with six others, I crossed the empty halls to the new classroom. We got the seats that were left over; mine was in the second row. They were individual seats, but in pairs, divided into three rows. I was in the middle row. On my left I had a classmate from my old class, Rudolf Bargen, a heavyset, calm, dependable chess and hockey player with whom I hadn’t ever spent any time in my old class, but who soon became a good friend. On my right, across the aisle, were the girls.
My neighbor was Sophie. Brown hair, brown eyes, brown summer skin, with tiny golden hairs on her bare arms. After I’d sat down and looked around, she smiled at me.
I smiled back. I felt good, I was excited about a new start in a new class, and the girls. I had observed my mates in tenth grade: whether they had girls in their class or not, they were afraid of them, or kept out of their way, or showed off to them, or worshipped them. I knew my way around women, and could be comfortable and open in a friendly way. The girls liked that. I would get along with them well in the new class, which meant I’d get along with the boys too.
Does everyone feel this way? When I was young, I was perpetually overconfident or insecure. Either I felt completely useless, unattractive, and worthless, or that I was pretty much a success, and everything I did was bound to succeed. When I was confident, I could overcome the hardest challenges. But all it took was the smallest setback for me to be sure that I was utterly worthless. Regaining my self-confidence had nothing to do with success; every goal I set myself, every recognition I craved made anything I actually did seem paltry by comparison, and whether I experienced it as a failure or triumph was utterly dependent on my mood. With Hanna things felt good for weeks—in spite of our fights, in spite of the fact that she pushed me away again and again, and again and again I crawled to her. And so summer in the new class began well.
I can still see the classroom: right front, the door, along the right-hand wall the board with the clothes hooks, on the left a row of windows looking onto the Heiligenberg and—when we stood next to the glass at recess—down at the streets, the river and the meadows on the opposite bank; in front, the blackboard, the stands for maps and diagrams, and the teacher’s desk and chair on a foot-high platform. The walls had yellow oil paint on them to about head height, and above that, white; and from the ceiling hung two milky glass globes. There was not one superfluous thing in the room: no pictures, no plants, no extra chair, no cupboard with forgotten books and notebooks and colored chalk. When your eyes wandered, they wandered to what was outside the window, or to whoever was sitting next to you. When Sophie saw me looking at her, she turned and smiled at me.
“Berg, Sophia may be a Greek name, but that is no reason for you to study your neighbor in a Greek lesson. Translate!”
We were translating the Odyssey. I had read it in German, loved it, and love it to this day. When it was my turn, it took me only seconds to find my place and translate. After the teacher had stopped teasing me about Sophie and the class had stopped laughing, it was something else that made me stutter. Nausicaa, white-armed and virginal, who in body and features resembled the immortals—should I imagine her as Hanna or as Sophie? It had to be one of the two.
我總是認(rèn)為每個(gè)學(xué)年的開始都是一個(gè)重大的轉(zhuǎn)折。從文科中學(xué)的六年級升入七年級發(fā)生了重大的變化，我原來所在的班被解散了，我們被分插到其他三個(gè)同年級的班里。有相當(dāng)多的學(xué)生沒能過六年級升入七年級這一關(guān)。這樣，原來的四個(gè)小班被合并為三個(gè)大班。
我所在的那所文科中學(xué)有好長一段時(shí)間只招男生。當(dāng)也開始招收女生時(shí)，初人數(shù)很少，不能均勻地分配到每個(gè)班里，而只能分配到一個(gè)班，后來，又分配到第二、第三班，直到每班都分入了三分之一的女生為止。我原來所在的班在我上學(xué)的那年沒有這么多的女生可分。我們?yōu)榈谒陌?，是個(gè)純男生班。正因?yàn)槿绱?，才是我們班而不是其他別的班被解散，被分插。
我們只是在新學(xué)期伊始才知道這些。校長把我們召集到一間教室里，告訴了我們分班的情況。我和六名同班同學(xué)一起穿過空空蕩蕩的走廊走進(jìn)了新教室。我們得到的座位都是剩余的，我的座位在第二排。每人一張課桌，兩個(gè)課桌并列為一對。共有三個(gè)縱排，我坐在中間那排，左邊坐著原來班上的同學(xué)魯?shù)婪颉ぐ透?，他比較胖，比較安靜，是個(gè)可信賴的國際象棋和曲棍球手。在原來的班里，我和他幾乎沒有什么往來，可是到了新班我們很快就成了好朋友。右邊的那排坐的都是女生。
我的鄰桌叫索菲，·她頭發(fā)棕色，眼睛綠色，皮膚被夏日的陽光曬成棕色，*露的胳膊上長著金黃色的汗毛。我坐下之后，向四周張望了一下，她沖我笑了笑。
我也報(bào)之以微笑。我現(xiàn)在自我感覺良好，很高興在新的班級里開始新的生活，還為班里有女生而高興。在六年級時(shí)，我曾經(jīng)觀察過我的男同學(xué)：不管班里是否有女同學(xué)，他們都怕她們，回避她們，或者在她們面前吹牛，或者對她們崇拜得五體投地。我了解女人，可以和她們友好地、泰然自若地相處。女孩子們也喜歡這樣，在新班里，我要和她們?nèi)谇⑾嗵?，同樣也要和男同學(xué)友好相處。
所有的人都是像我一樣嗎？我在年輕時(shí)總是感覺不是太自信了，就是．不知所措；不是顯得完全無能、微不足道或一事無成，就是自我認(rèn)為在各方面都很成功，而且必須在各方面都要成功。只要我自信，就可以克服大的困難。但一個(gè)小小的失敗又足以讓我感到我一事無成。重新獲得的自信從不是成功的結(jié)果。我也期望自己能做出成績，渴望他人的認(rèn)同，但我卻很少能做出什么成績，即使能，也都是微不足道的成績。我能否感覺到這種微不足道，是否為這種微不足道的成績感到自豪，這完全取決于我的心清如何。幾個(gè)星期以來，和漢娜在一起我感覺很不錯(cuò)，盡管我們之間有爭吵，盡管她不斷地訓(xùn)斥我，而我又總是屈就于她。這樣，隨著新班級生活的開始，一個(gè)愉快的夏天也來臨了。
我眼前的教室是這樣的：門在右前方，右面墻上是木制掛衣鉤，左邊是一排窗戶，透過窗戶可以望到圣山。當(dāng)課間休息時(shí)，我們站在窗前，這時(shí)向外可以看到下面的街道、一條河。以及河對岸的一片草坪。前面是黑板、放地圖的架子和圖表。在齊腳面高的小講臺上擺著講桌和椅子。內(nèi)墻到齊頭高的地方都劇上了黃色的油漆，一人高以上的地方刷上了白色。天花板上吊了兩個(gè)乳白色的圓燈泡。教室里再?zèng)]有什么多余的東西，沒有圖片，沒有植物，沒有多余的桌位，沒有放忘記帶走的書本或者彩色粉筆的柜子。如果你的眼睛開小差的話，你只能把目光投向窗外或者偷看鄰桌的男女同學(xué)。當(dāng)索菲察覺到我在看她時(shí)，就轉(zhuǎn)向我這邊來，對我笑笑。
"白格，即使索菲是一個(gè)希臘名字，那您也沒有理由在上希臘語課時(shí)研究您的鄰桌女同學(xué)。快翻譯！"
我們翻譯《奧德賽》，我讀過德文版，很喜歡讀，直到今天仍舊很喜歡。如果輪到我的話，我只需幾秒鐘，就能進(jìn)入狀態(tài)把它翻譯出來。但當(dāng)老師把我叫起來，又把我和索菲的名字聯(lián)系在一起時(shí)，同學(xué)們哄堂大笑。當(dāng)他們的笑聲停止時(shí)，我卻由于其他的原因口吃起來。瑞西卡，這個(gè)婀娜多姿、手臂白嫩的少女，她應(yīng)該是漢娜呢，還是索菲？反正她應(yīng)該是二者中的一個(gè)。
My high school traditionally had taken only boys. When girls began to be accepted, there were so few of them to begin with that they were not divided equally among the parallel classes, but were assigned to a single class, then later to a second and a third, until they made up a third of each class. There were not enough girls in my year for any to be assigned to my former class. We were the fourth parallel class, and all boys, which is why we were the ones to be disbanded and reassigned, and not one of the other classes.
We didn’t find out about it until school began. The principal summoned us into a classroom and informed us about the why and how of our reassignment. Along with six others, I crossed the empty halls to the new classroom. We got the seats that were left over; mine was in the second row. They were individual seats, but in pairs, divided into three rows. I was in the middle row. On my left I had a classmate from my old class, Rudolf Bargen, a heavyset, calm, dependable chess and hockey player with whom I hadn’t ever spent any time in my old class, but who soon became a good friend. On my right, across the aisle, were the girls.
My neighbor was Sophie. Brown hair, brown eyes, brown summer skin, with tiny golden hairs on her bare arms. After I’d sat down and looked around, she smiled at me.
I smiled back. I felt good, I was excited about a new start in a new class, and the girls. I had observed my mates in tenth grade: whether they had girls in their class or not, they were afraid of them, or kept out of their way, or showed off to them, or worshipped them. I knew my way around women, and could be comfortable and open in a friendly way. The girls liked that. I would get along with them well in the new class, which meant I’d get along with the boys too.
Does everyone feel this way? When I was young, I was perpetually overconfident or insecure. Either I felt completely useless, unattractive, and worthless, or that I was pretty much a success, and everything I did was bound to succeed. When I was confident, I could overcome the hardest challenges. But all it took was the smallest setback for me to be sure that I was utterly worthless. Regaining my self-confidence had nothing to do with success; every goal I set myself, every recognition I craved made anything I actually did seem paltry by comparison, and whether I experienced it as a failure or triumph was utterly dependent on my mood. With Hanna things felt good for weeks—in spite of our fights, in spite of the fact that she pushed me away again and again, and again and again I crawled to her. And so summer in the new class began well.
I can still see the classroom: right front, the door, along the right-hand wall the board with the clothes hooks, on the left a row of windows looking onto the Heiligenberg and—when we stood next to the glass at recess—down at the streets, the river and the meadows on the opposite bank; in front, the blackboard, the stands for maps and diagrams, and the teacher’s desk and chair on a foot-high platform. The walls had yellow oil paint on them to about head height, and above that, white; and from the ceiling hung two milky glass globes. There was not one superfluous thing in the room: no pictures, no plants, no extra chair, no cupboard with forgotten books and notebooks and colored chalk. When your eyes wandered, they wandered to what was outside the window, or to whoever was sitting next to you. When Sophie saw me looking at her, she turned and smiled at me.
“Berg, Sophia may be a Greek name, but that is no reason for you to study your neighbor in a Greek lesson. Translate!”
We were translating the Odyssey. I had read it in German, loved it, and love it to this day. When it was my turn, it took me only seconds to find my place and translate. After the teacher had stopped teasing me about Sophie and the class had stopped laughing, it was something else that made me stutter. Nausicaa, white-armed and virginal, who in body and features resembled the immortals—should I imagine her as Hanna or as Sophie? It had to be one of the two.
我總是認(rèn)為每個(gè)學(xué)年的開始都是一個(gè)重大的轉(zhuǎn)折。從文科中學(xué)的六年級升入七年級發(fā)生了重大的變化，我原來所在的班被解散了，我們被分插到其他三個(gè)同年級的班里。有相當(dāng)多的學(xué)生沒能過六年級升入七年級這一關(guān)。這樣，原來的四個(gè)小班被合并為三個(gè)大班。
我所在的那所文科中學(xué)有好長一段時(shí)間只招男生。當(dāng)也開始招收女生時(shí)，初人數(shù)很少，不能均勻地分配到每個(gè)班里，而只能分配到一個(gè)班，后來，又分配到第二、第三班，直到每班都分入了三分之一的女生為止。我原來所在的班在我上學(xué)的那年沒有這么多的女生可分。我們?yōu)榈谒陌?，是個(gè)純男生班。正因?yàn)槿绱?，才是我們班而不是其他別的班被解散，被分插。
我們只是在新學(xué)期伊始才知道這些。校長把我們召集到一間教室里，告訴了我們分班的情況。我和六名同班同學(xué)一起穿過空空蕩蕩的走廊走進(jìn)了新教室。我們得到的座位都是剩余的，我的座位在第二排。每人一張課桌，兩個(gè)課桌并列為一對。共有三個(gè)縱排，我坐在中間那排，左邊坐著原來班上的同學(xué)魯?shù)婪颉ぐ透?，他比較胖，比較安靜，是個(gè)可信賴的國際象棋和曲棍球手。在原來的班里，我和他幾乎沒有什么往來，可是到了新班我們很快就成了好朋友。右邊的那排坐的都是女生。
我的鄰桌叫索菲，·她頭發(fā)棕色，眼睛綠色，皮膚被夏日的陽光曬成棕色，*露的胳膊上長著金黃色的汗毛。我坐下之后，向四周張望了一下，她沖我笑了笑。
我也報(bào)之以微笑。我現(xiàn)在自我感覺良好，很高興在新的班級里開始新的生活，還為班里有女生而高興。在六年級時(shí)，我曾經(jīng)觀察過我的男同學(xué)：不管班里是否有女同學(xué)，他們都怕她們，回避她們，或者在她們面前吹牛，或者對她們崇拜得五體投地。我了解女人，可以和她們友好地、泰然自若地相處。女孩子們也喜歡這樣，在新班里，我要和她們?nèi)谇⑾嗵?，同樣也要和男同學(xué)友好相處。
所有的人都是像我一樣嗎？我在年輕時(shí)總是感覺不是太自信了，就是．不知所措；不是顯得完全無能、微不足道或一事無成，就是自我認(rèn)為在各方面都很成功，而且必須在各方面都要成功。只要我自信，就可以克服大的困難。但一個(gè)小小的失敗又足以讓我感到我一事無成。重新獲得的自信從不是成功的結(jié)果。我也期望自己能做出成績，渴望他人的認(rèn)同，但我卻很少能做出什么成績，即使能，也都是微不足道的成績。我能否感覺到這種微不足道，是否為這種微不足道的成績感到自豪，這完全取決于我的心清如何。幾個(gè)星期以來，和漢娜在一起我感覺很不錯(cuò)，盡管我們之間有爭吵，盡管她不斷地訓(xùn)斥我，而我又總是屈就于她。這樣，隨著新班級生活的開始，一個(gè)愉快的夏天也來臨了。
我眼前的教室是這樣的：門在右前方，右面墻上是木制掛衣鉤，左邊是一排窗戶，透過窗戶可以望到圣山。當(dāng)課間休息時(shí)，我們站在窗前，這時(shí)向外可以看到下面的街道、一條河。以及河對岸的一片草坪。前面是黑板、放地圖的架子和圖表。在齊腳面高的小講臺上擺著講桌和椅子。內(nèi)墻到齊頭高的地方都劇上了黃色的油漆，一人高以上的地方刷上了白色。天花板上吊了兩個(gè)乳白色的圓燈泡。教室里再?zèng)]有什么多余的東西，沒有圖片，沒有植物，沒有多余的桌位，沒有放忘記帶走的書本或者彩色粉筆的柜子。如果你的眼睛開小差的話，你只能把目光投向窗外或者偷看鄰桌的男女同學(xué)。當(dāng)索菲察覺到我在看她時(shí)，就轉(zhuǎn)向我這邊來，對我笑笑。
"白格，即使索菲是一個(gè)希臘名字，那您也沒有理由在上希臘語課時(shí)研究您的鄰桌女同學(xué)。快翻譯！"
我們翻譯《奧德賽》，我讀過德文版，很喜歡讀，直到今天仍舊很喜歡。如果輪到我的話，我只需幾秒鐘，就能進(jìn)入狀態(tài)把它翻譯出來。但當(dāng)老師把我叫起來，又把我和索菲的名字聯(lián)系在一起時(shí)，同學(xué)們哄堂大笑。當(dāng)他們的笑聲停止時(shí)，我卻由于其他的原因口吃起來。瑞西卡，這個(gè)婀娜多姿、手臂白嫩的少女，她應(yīng)該是漢娜呢，還是索菲？反正她應(yīng)該是二者中的一個(gè)。