Bricklayer's Boy砖瓦匠的儿子
Alfred Lubrano艾尔弗雷德•卢布拉诺1 My father and I were both at the same college back in the mid 1970s. While I was in
class at Columbia, he
was laying bricks not far up the street, working on a campus building.
二十世纪七十年代中期我和父亲同在一所大学里。我在哥伦比亚大学上学他在同一条街不远的
地方砌砖 .在校园的一处建筑工地上干活。
2 Sometimes we'd hook up on the subway going home, he with his tools, I with my books. We didn't chat
much about what went on during the day. My father wasn't interested in Dante, I
wasn't up on arches. We'd share a
New York Post and talk about the Mets.
有时我俩一起坐地铁回家他提着工具我拿着书本。我俩不怎么聊白天的事。我父亲对但丁没有
兴趣我也不懂拱门什么的。我俩看一份《纽约邮报》谈论大都会棒球队的比赛情况。
3 My dad has built lots of places in New York City he can't get into: colleges, apartments,
office towers. He
makes his living on the outside. Once the walls are up, a place takes on a different feel for him, as if he's not
welcome anymore. It doesn't bother him, though. For my father, earning the cash that paid for my entry into a
fancy, bricked-in institution was satisfaction enough. (1) We didn't know it then, but those days were the start of a
branching off, a redefining of what it means to be a workingman in our family. Related by blood, we're separated
by class, my father and I. Being the white-collar son of a blue-collar man means being the hinge on the door
between two ways of life.
我爸爸建造了纽约市的许多他进不去的建筑大学公寓办公大楼。他在建筑物的外面谋生。一
旦高墙耸起这建筑给他的感受就变了他好像不再受到欢迎。不过他对此并不在意。对我父亲来说挣
点钱好让我进入一所高档的、用砖墙围起来的大学就读就挺满足了就像他自己进去一样。当时我俩并未
意识到这一点但那就是我们之间开始拉开距离的日子是开始在家庭内部重新界定劳动者的意义的日子。
我们父子俩血脉相连却分属不同的阶级。作为一个蓝领工人的白领儿子就等于是两种不同生活方式之
间的大门上的铰链。
4 It's not so smooth jumping from Italian old-world style to U.S. yuppie in a single generation. Despite the
myth of mobility in America, the true rule, experts say, is rags to rags, riches to riches. Maybe 10 percent climb
from the working to the professional class. My father has had a tough time accepting my decision to become a
mere newspaper reporter, a field that pays just a little more than construction does.
He wonders why I haven't
cashed in on that multi-brick education and taken on some lawyer-lucrative job. After bricklaying for thirty years,
my father promised himself I'd never lay bricks for a living. He figured an education would somehow rocket me
into the upwardly mobile, and load some serious money into my pockets. (2) What he didn't count on was his
eldest son breaking blue-collar rule No. 1: Make as much money as you can, to pay for
as good a life as you can
get.
仅在一代人的时间里仍旧的意大利生活方式一跃而成为美国的雅皮士不是件容易事。虽说美国有
社会阶层上下流动的神话专家们却指出真实的情况是穷者穷富者富。或许有百分之十的人仍工人
阶级爬到专业技术阶层。我父亲好不容易才接受了我当一名普通报纸记者的决定因为这个行当的收入只
略高于建筑业。他不明白我为什么不利用他砌砖赚钱付学费让我获得的大学教育找一份诸如律师那种
收入丰厚的工作。我父亲砌了30 年的墙他发誓不让我靠砌墙谋生。他以为我受过教育就能一步登天加
入向上流社会流动的行列并赚上大把大把的钞票把衣袋装得鼓鼓的。他没有想到的是他的大儿子打破
了蓝领规则的第一条赚尽可能多的钱过尽可能好的生活。
5 He'd tell me about it when I was nineteen, my collar already fading to white. I was the college boy who
handed him the wrong wrench on help-around-the-house Saturdays. "You better make a lot of money," my
blue-collar handy dad warned. "You're gonna need to hire someone to hammer a nail into a wall for you."
我19 岁时他就跟我这么说了那时我的衣领已经开始变白。我是在大学念书的儿子星期六在家里帮忙
时递给他的扳手总是不对。“你最好赚好多好多钱”我的手巧的蓝领父亲告诫道。“你将来连墙上钉个钉
子也要雇人帮忙。”
6 In 1980, after college and graduate school, I was offered my first job, on a daily paper in Columbus, Ohio. I
broke the news in the kitchen, where all the family business is discussed. My mother wept as if it were Vietnam.
My father had a few questions: "Ohio? Where the hell is Ohio?"
1980 年我读了大学又读了研究生毕业后俄亥俄州哥伦比亚市的一份日报给了我第一个工作。我
在厨房里说了这事因为家里的事都是在厨房里谈论的。我母亲哭了好像是去越南打仗似的。我父亲问
了几个问题“俄亥俄俄亥俄到底在哪儿”
7 I said it's somewhere west of New York City, that it was like Pennsylvania, only more so. I told him I
wanted to write, and these were the only people who'd take me.
我说是在纽约城西面一个地方就像宾夕法尼亚州一样只是更往西。我跟他说我想写作只有他
们肯给我这份工作。
8 "Why can't you get a good job that pays something, like in advertising in the city, and write on the side?"
“为什么你就不能找个收入高一点的好工作呢比如在纽约做广告边工作边写作”
9 "Advertising is lying," I said. "I wanna tell the truth."
“广告是撒谎”我说。“我要报道事实。”
10 "The truth?" the old man exploded, his face reddening as it does when he's up twenty stories in high wind.
"What's truth?" I said it's real life, and writing about it would make me happy.
"You're happy with your family,"
my father said, spilling blue-collar rule No. 2. "That's what makes you happy. After that, it all comes down to
dollars and cents. What gives you comfort besides your family? Money, only money." “事实”老头气炸了脸涨得通红就像他顶着狂风站在20 层楼高的地方。“什么是事实”我
说就是真实的生活报道真实的生活会使我幸福。“你跟家人一起就是幸福”我父亲说无意中道出了蓝
领规则的第二条。“那才是让你幸福的东西。除了这一切都归结为美元、金钱。除了你的家还有什么给
你安慰钱只有钱。”
11 During the two weeks before I moved, he reminded me that newspaper journalism is a dying field, and I
could do better. No longer was I the good son who studied hard. I was hacking people off.
临行前的两个星期里他提醒我说报纸新闻是个行将消亡的行当我完全可以有个更好的前程。
我不再是那个用功听话的孩子。我让人大失所望.
12 One night, though, my father brought home some heavy tape and that clear, plastic bubble stuff you pack
your mother's second-string dishes in. "You probably couldn't do this right," my father said to me before he sealed
the boxes and helped me take them to UPS. "This is what he wants," my father told my mother the day I left for
Columbus. "What are you gonna do?" after I said my good-byes, my father took me aside and pressed five $100
bills into my hands. "It's okay," he said over my weak protests. "Don't tell your mother."
可是一天晚上我父亲带回家一些粗胶纸和透明的塑料泡沫材料就是人家用来装母亲的备用餐
具的那种。“看来你做不了这个事”父亲对我说。接着他封好箱子并帮我把箱子拿到联邦快运公司。“这
是他要做的事”我动身去哥伦比亚那天父亲对母亲说。“你有什么办法呢”我道别后父亲把我拉到
一边往我手里塞了5 张100 元的票子。我稍微推辞了一下。他就说“拿着吧别告诉你妈就是了。”
13 When I broke the news about what the paper was paying me, my father suggested
I get a part-time job to
supplement my income. "Maybe you could drive a cab." Once, after I was chewed out by the city editor for
something trivial, I made the mistake of telling my father during a visit home. "They pay you nothin', and they
push you around too much in that business," he told me, the rage building. "Next time, you gotta grab the guy by
the throat and tell him he's a big jerk."
当我跟他们说了报社给我多少薪水时父亲建议我找个兺职以弥补工资的不足。“也许你可以开出
租车。”有一次为了件小事我被本地新闻编辑责骂我犯了个错回家时把这事跟父亲讲了。“他们简直
就不付你什么工钱把你差来差去欺人太甚了”他跟我说着火气就上来了。“下一次你要卡着那家
伙的脖子告诉他他是个大混蛋。”
14 My father isn't crazy about his life. He wanted to be a singer and actor when he was young, but his Italian
family expected money to be coming in. (3) My dad learned a trade, as he was supposed to, and settled into a life
of pre-scripted routine.
我父亲对自己的生活并不心满意足。他年轻时想当歌唱家和演员可他的意大利家庭等着钱用。爸
爸就像家人期望的那样学了一门手艺过上了一种预先设计好的生活。
15 Although I see my dad infrequently, my brother, who lives at home, is with the old man every day. Chris
has a lot more blue-collar in him than I do, despite his management-level career. Once in a while he'll bag a lunch
and, in a nice wool suit, meet my father at a construction site and share sandwiches. 我虽然不经常见到爸爸但我弟弟住在家里天天和老爸在一起。克里斯虽然身为管理人员却比
我更像蓝领。他不时地会装上一袋午餐穿着考究的毛料西装在建筑工地上与父亲相会跟他一起吃三
明治。
16 It was Chris who helped my dad most when my father tried to change his life several months ago. My dad
wanted a civil-service bricklayer foreman's job that wouldn't be so physically demanding. There was a written test
that included essay questions about construction work. My father hadn't done anything like it in forty years. Every
morning before sunrise, Chris would be ironing a shirt and my father would sit at the kitchen table and read aloud
his practice essays on how to wash down a wall, or how to build a tricky corner. Chris would suggest words and
approaches.
几个月前当父亲想改变一下自己的生活时是克里斯给了父亲最大的帮助。父亲想当行政部门砌
砖工人的领班这活儿对体力的要求不是太高。想做这份工作要参加笔试回答有关建筑工作的一些问
题。父亲有40 年没做过这样的事情了。每天太阳还没有出来克里斯在一边熨烫衬衣父亲坐在厨房餐
桌旁大声朗读他练习写的怎么洗刷墙壁怎么砌一个难砌的墙角的回答。
扩展资料：
bricklayer n.砖匠
He worked as a bricklayer's mate
他给瓦工打下手。
He was a bricklayer — a big, strapping fellow.
他是位砌砖工——一个高大健壮的小伙子。
After he left school, he tried his hand at a variety of jobs — bricklayer, cinema usher, coal man.
离开学校后，他尝试过各种工作，如泥瓦匠、电影院引座员、运煤工。