【英文文学】Death into Life.docx

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1、【英文文学】Death into LifeChapter 1 BattleThe RaidersTEN thousand boys in the upper air. Squadron upon squadron, their intricate machines thundered toward the target, heavy with death. Darkness below; and above, the stars. Below, the invisible carpet of the fields and little homes; above, and very far be

2、yond those flashing stars, the invisible galaxies, gliding through the immense dark, squadron upon squadron of universes, deploying in the boundless and yet measured space.In one of the bombers, seven boys. Seven young minds in patterned unity; each self-cherishing, but all knit inwardly together by

3、 fibres of steel-tempered comradeship. And all equally imprisoned, body and mind, in their intricate machinery.Seven boys, and by strange chance a moth. It had strayed, no doubt, into the plane when the crew were taking their places. Since then it had wavered hither and thither, up and down its pris

4、on, from one domed transparent turret to another, teased by some obscure longing, needing though unwittingly a mate. Searching, softly colliding with now this young human cheek now that, kissing each one like the fluttered eyelash of an invisible beloved, it spent the numbered seconds of its life in

5、 vain. Or tremulously it thrust with feeble pressure against the prison windows, drawn by the pin-prick lights of the sky; but conceiving no immensity, no galaxies.The seven boys too had their own, their more articulate yearnings. They craved the life that was normal to their human, and more conscio

6、us, but unfinished, nature. And like the moth sometimes their minds impotently fluttered at the prison windows, vainly questioning the stars.The Rear-GunnerThe rear-gunner had never heard of galaxies. Even the stars were for him little more than drifting lights. He knew, of course, that they were su

7、ns; but what of it? The fact oppressed him. Shunned, it had sunk almost too deep for memory. And though, on nights like this he could not help remembering and wondering, after a moments blankness he was bored. The stars, he felt, didnt help matters at all. Down here on earth it was hell, though stre

8、aked tantalizingly with unfulfilling joys, with sex and beer and the bitter shattering ecstasy of air-fighting. There were moments, too, rather frightening but somehow exalting, when something deep inside one seemed to take possession, so that the whole of life changed its colour and became terribly

9、 important, and one kicked oneself for being such a waster. But they didnt last, those moments. They were probably due to digestion, or glands or something. No, down here it was hell; and up there, just those blank stars. And now, to make things worse, he was starting a cold in his nose. Already it

10、tickled and exasperated him, and already his head was none too clear. Would it spoil his nerve? Would he muff his part in the show? Whatever happened, he must not let the crew down. That really mattered. Mattered? Why mattered? For a moment an abyss of emptiness opened before him, but he gallantly l

11、eapt it. Hell! He didnt know why it mattered, but it did; it mattered terribly that the crew should do well. Then, remembering an earlier raid, when the air round the plane was all fire and hammer-blows of blast, he felt an inner sinking. Of course the odds were that the whole seven of them would co

12、me through safely. But some crews would not. And sooner or later He pictured the plane ablaze.Panic swooped on him; but instantly he beat it off. One mustnt think such thoughts. Think rather of the pilots skill and his own gunnery. Oh well! Quite soon they would be racing home in front of the dawn,

13、lightened of bombs, and of fear. Then breakfast. How he wanted to live! The moths careless kiss had stirred him strangely, like the tickle of a girls hair on ones cheek, he thought. He had never been to bed with a girl yet, though he often pretended he had. And he might die tonight, never having don

14、e it. Why, he asked himself, was he so clumsy with girls? Perhaps he was really frightened of them, frightened of damaging something holy in them. He could never rid himself of that feeling, though he knew it was silly. They were just female animals, and he a male one. And so he covered his reverent

15、 shyness with a man-of-the-world swagger; but they saw through it. She saw through it. And she could lead him on and put him off so easily, the teasing little bitch. But oh God, perhaps perhaps they were both messing things up; perhaps there really was something sacred; perhaps this business of lovi

16、ng was really the way to it, if only they had the right technique. By now the bomber was over the narrow sea. The risen moons reflection was a splash of light ahead. The moth pressed more urgently toward the increased luminosity, while far below, unseen, each wave-crest, each droplet of spray and bu

17、bble of foam, was transfused with moonlight.The rear-gunner did not know that under this salt water was an ancient valley. There, forests had grown beside a great river. Mammoths had crushed their way through the brushwood, and swum the hurrying water, seeking new pastures in the future island. Crou

18、ching submen had used untrimmed stones for tools, and for weapons in their subhuman quarrels, preluding bombs. But to the rear-gunner the narrow sea was only the protecting moat of his island country. And his country was-just fields and houses, cities and mines, the King and the Princesses, and so o

19、n. And of course the decentest people in the world; and the motherland of an Empire which was a spreading decency in every continent. Some said it wasnt, blast them! They ought to know better than to foul their own nest. But even if they were right, and the Empire was a huge fraud, what matter? It w

20、as only the people at home that really mattered. It was for them the crews were fighting, and for the whole decent way of life. Decent? What could that really mean? Sacred? Right absolutely? Or just the done thing, just a groundless habit?Dark land now loomed beyond the moonlit sea. Soon they would

21、be up against the enemys defences, and then there must be no more dreaming. Thank God, though he was clumsy with a girl, he was quick and sure with a gun; and though on the way to the target his belly melted and his legs might sometimes quiver, he was cool enough when the show began. How the seven o

22、f them would act as one living thing, keying their functions perfectly together! But oh, he wanted to live on. Of course those buggers must be stopped from smashing everything. And the island fortress must be defended, and the Empire, and all that. Yes, and though one longed like hell for Civvy Stre

23、et, it was good to know that one was in on the greatest show, and doing it with style, like the few, the superb few, in the Battle of Britain. But oh, he wanted to live.Well, if he did live through to the peace, he wouldnt bother about politics. Hed have the hell of a good time to make up for all th

24、is. Suddenly he had a vision of himself with his medals and his wing on a shabby civilian coat, selling tooth-brushes from door to door. That sort of thing happened after the last war, but it shouldnt happen to him! If they didnt give him something better than that, he and his kind would smash every

25、thing. The country certainly needed cleaning up. It was all the fault of those dirty Jews, no doubt. Well, if life meant living as an ex-serviceman, far better die tonight, and have done. But pain! Like when he burned his hand, but all over. And death? One never spoke about these things. He didnt ev

26、en whisper about them to his secret self, not if he could help it. Tonight, somehow, he didnt care. He must face the facts. It was so much easier for the Germans and the Japs, who believed they were going to Valhalla or something. But for us, it was different. Of course the Padre was sure we were al

27、l bound for some kind of heaven or other. At least he said he was, but that was what he was paid for. Risky to bet on it, anyhow. But if death was just a snuffing out, a switching off the current, what sense in all this, this mess of heaven and hell down here?Once more the rear-gunner brooded on the

28、 wide pin-pricked dome. Those stars, those suns, were all looking at him with a cold objective stare; or blinking, the better to see him; the better to eat you up, my dear. At last he knew them for what they really were, the devils. So at least he half-persuaded himself.Actually, of course, they ign

29、ored him as completely as he ignored any little phagocyte in his own blood-stream. The stars flowed in their thousands, their myriads, squadron upon squadron, phagocytes in the blood-stream of our galaxy. Depth behind depth behind depth, they streamed along the channels of space, the great stars and

30、 the small, the near and the far, the young giants and the senile dwarfs. And what their significance might be, neither the rear-gunner nor any earth-bound intelligence could ever know. Yet in the rear-gunners mind some dark, threatening hint of their possible meaning bore heavily down. He shivered

31、and blew his nose. Christ! What sense was there in those bloody great fires? Those flying sparks, perhaps, from some unseen, far greater fire. What a thought! He must pull himself together. For him the flares, the flak, the tracer, must have more meaning; and to keep a sharp eye and a steady hand. F

32、or at any moment now enemy fighters might appear, and still far ahead lay the target, the City.The City and Its PeopleFar ahead the City lay in the moonlight, exposed, waiting. The sirens had sounded. Seen from the air by its patrolling fliers, this metropolis was a huge smear, spilt on the patterne

33、d carpet of forest and lakes, rivers and gossamer roads. It was an amorphous, yet an obscurely detailed patch, as of lichen or some fungoid growth. It sprawled over the plain, vaguely organic, splayed, a squashed animal on the tarmac. But it was not lifeless. Restless antennae of light reached upwar

34、d from it, sweeping the sky, probing the upper air, fading before the starry depth. For they searched, those prying feelers, not for any heaven but for the expected re-onset of hell.In a nearer view the City, the great living, wounded creature, still displayed areas of vitality, intact tissues of pa

35、tterned streets and roofs. But there were huge tracts also of roofless honeycomb, the cell-lids sheared away, leaving frail, broken, wax-thin walls, the honey spilt and lost, the grubs all killed. There were broad regions, too, where the comb had been crushed and flattened, the fragile tenements sha

36、ttered down into formless rubble.Within this hive, this ants nest, trampled and churned by giant footfall, insects were still alive. Though swarms of them had migrated outward into the forest and the frost to escape the nocturnal terror, many remained. Ousters were gathered in deep-lying crannies an

37、d into the buttressed shelters. Old people, their spirits already frayed out toward death, clung still to lifes last threads. Mothers clung to their babies, fiercely jealous lest death part them; and expectant mothers dreaded lest convulsive terror should drive the womb to vomit out too soon its unf

38、inished treasure. Young men and women shared without privacy intimate delight, lest death should forestall them. But others of the citys swarm had taken their stations for defence against Hells repeated impact. Gunners on their gun-sites waited. Fire-watchers on the roofs waited. Wardens were in the

39、 streets. Ambulance drivers were ready with their cars. In the casualty clearing stations doctors and nurses waited in tense idleness. In the mortuaries there were still displayed the unclaimed relics of the citys previous agony, old withered bodies, and bodies in shattered bloom, bodies in rags tha

40、t were recently fine clothing, and bodies in rags long worn; and torn disjected members, strangely impersonal, that were once the familiar limbs of living workers, housewives, children.Hidden among the ruins, armed men in uniform were held in leash, ready to discipline the population.City of horror,

41、 tortured no less in spirit than in flesh. Like any city, it was a swarm of anxious little solipsistic individuals, each encased in its own world, which seemed to it the one and only, the true, the great world. For each of these beings, these postmen, charwomen, shopkeepers, company directors, carri

42、ed about with it, as an aquatic insect might carry down a breathable air-bubble, its own particular little universe, a microscopic and fragmentary excerpt from the immense real; and yet a universe, a microcosm, complete with landscapes and sentient beings, with cities and a starry sky, whether of pi

43、n-pricks merely or giant suns; complete, too, with its own flux of time, whether of a lifetimes years only, or of historical centuries, or stellar ?ons. Within each universe the minute individual himself presided as a percipient, dynamic, scheming centre, endowing its peculiar bubble with fragrance

44、and colour, with heats of desire and deadly chills of desolation. And these little selves, these body-minds, these vibrant instruments of passion and of will, insulated as mid-ocean islets, yet most strangely members one of another might it be that these were fractional excerpts from one immensity,

45、from one ultimate and single awareness? Or were they and all their kind throughout the cosmos utterly separate grains of consciousness, and the sole order of mentality in all the universe? Or did personal deity look down on them, sifting his myriad creatures like sand-grains between his fingers. Or

46、were the little selves not in fact enduring spiritual substances at all, but merely evanescent wraiths of sentience and desire steaming from the physical processes of human bodies, like vapours from a dung-heap?Viewed in the mass, as units in a citys or a worlds population, or as insects in an ants

47、nest, how indistinguishable they were; their prized differences merely the infinitesimal irregularities of a machined pattern. Yet in a closer, a more intimate view, how unique each one! Here, a little universe predominantly sunlit; until the common disaster of our times eclipsed the sun for all. Th

48、ere, a microcosm of sheer desolation. Here, a cauldron of furious events; there, a stagnant puddle. Here, a mean and shrunken universe, confined within a network of commercial or political intrigue, or of contrived occasions of self-display; there, an ample and ever-expanding microcosm, mirroring, h

49、owever imperfectly, the whole tumult of our modern world, the sequence of human history, the dawn of man, and of the cosmos. Here, and here, and here, a universe disjointed by foolish dreams or crazy myths. But there, and there, a very simple microcosm, devoid of all immensities and subtleties, yet (who knows?) perhaps essentially true to the ultimate temper of reality, because lit inwardly by a few bright comradeships and loves.And the little sentient, dynamic centres themselves, how diverse! This