The weight men carry
男人背负的重担
When I was a boy growing up off the grid in the Commonwealth of Virginia, the men I knew labored with their bodies from the first rooster crow in the morning to sundown. They were marginal farmers, shepherds, just scraping by, or welders, steelworkers, carpenters; they built cabinets, dug ditches, mined coal, or drove trucks, their forearms thick with muscle. They trained horses, stocked furnaces, made tires, stood on assembly lines, welding parts onto refrigerators or lubricating car engines. In the evenings and on weekends, they labored equally hard, working on their own small tract of land, fixing broken-down cars, repairing broken shutters and drafty windows. In their little free time, they drowned their livers in beer from cheap copper mugs at a bar near the local brewery or racecourse. 当我还是个小男孩时，我住在弗吉尼亚州一个偏远的地区，那时我所认识的男人们从清晨的第一声公鸡啼鸣一直劳作到日落。他们都是些不起眼的农民、牧羊人，勉强度日，或是焊接工、钢铁工或木匠；他们制作橱柜、挖掘沟渠、开采煤炭，或驾驶卡车，这使他们拥有肌肉结实的上臂。他们训练马
匹、填塞炉膛、制造轮胎，站在装配线上将零件焊接到冰箱，或是给汽车发动机上润滑剂。到了傍晚或周末，他们也要同样辛苦地劳作，在自己的一小片土地上耕作，修理出了问题的汽车，修复坏掉的百叶窗和漏风的窗户。在仅剩的闲暇时间里，他们会在当地的啤酒作坊或赛马场附近的酒馆里用盛在廉价铜杯中的啤酒将自己灌得烂醉。
The bodies of the men I knew were twisted and wounded in ways visible and invisible. Heavy lifting had given many of them spinal problems and appalling injuries. Some had broken ribs and lost fingers. Racing against conveyor belts had given some ulcers. Their ankles and knees ached from years of standing on concrete. Some had partial vision loss as the glow of the welding flame damaged their optic receptors. There were times, studying them, when I dreaded growing up. All around us, the fathers always seemed older than the mothers. Men wore out sooner, being martyrs of constant work. Only women lived into old age.
我所认识的那些男人的身躯遭受着种种看得见或看不也的扭曲和伤痛。搬运沉重的物品给他们很多人造成了脊柱病和可怕的伤痛。有些人断了肋骨，掉了手指。在传输带上不停地工作
使他们有些人患了溃疡。他们的脚踝和膝盖由于经年累月站立在水泥地上疼痛不已。有些人由于焊接火光损伤视觉感官而遭受部分视觉缺失的折磨。有些时候，打量着他们，我会害怕长大。在我们周围的人中，父亲们看上去总是比母亲们要老。男人衰老得更早，长期遭受着因持续劳作带来的病痛。只有女人才活到年老。
There were also soldiers, and so far as I could tell, they scarcely worked at all. But when the shooting started, many of them would die for their patriotism in fields and forts of foreign outposts. This was what soldiers were for - they were tools like a wrench, a hammer or a screw.
还有士兵也是男人的工作。据我所知，他们几乎不工作，但当战争一打响，他们很多人都会出于爱国热情而战死在疆场或异域前哨的堡垒前。这就是士兵的作用——他们就像工具，如同扳钳、锤子或螺丝一样。 These weren't the only destinies of men, as I learned from having a few male teachers, from reading books and from watching television. But the men on television - the news commentators, the lawyers, the doctors, the politicians who levied the taxes and the bosses who gave orders - seemed as remote and unreal to me as the fig
ures in old paintings. I could no more imagine growing up to become one of these sophisticated people than I could imagine becoming a sovereign prince.
这些并非男人们唯一的归宿，我从曾经有过的几位男教师、从看书及看电视中认识到了这一点。但是，那些上电视的男人们——新闻评论员、律师、医生、课征税款的政治家及发号施令的老板们——在我看来就像古老绘画上的人像，遥远而不真实。我不能想象自己长大会变成这些精明世故的人中的一员，就像我无法想象自己能变成一个权力至高无上的国君一样。
A scholarship enabled me not only to attend college, a rare enough feat in my social circle, but even to traverse the halls of a historic university meant for the children of the rich. Here for the first time I met women who told me that men were guilty of having kept all the joys and privileges of the earth for themselves. I was puzzled, and demanded clarification. What privileges? What joys? I thought about the grim, wounded lives of most of the men back home. What had they allegedly stolen from their wives and daughters? The right to work five days a week, 12 months a year, for 30 or 40 years, wedged in tight spaces in the textile mills, or in the coal mines, struggling to extract every last bit of coal from the rock-hard eart
h? The right to die in war? The right to fix every leak in the roof, every gap in the fence? The right to pile banknotes high for a rich corporation in a city far away? The right to feel, when the lay-off came or the mines shut down, not only afraid but also ashamed?
一份奖学金使我得以上大学，这可是我社交圈子里极其难得的荣耀。不仅如此，它还让我能够穿行于为富人家的孩子打造的史上著名的大学殿堂里。就在这里，我生平头一次碰到女人告诉我说男人是有罪的，因为他们把地球上所有的欢乐和特权都据为己有。我被弄糊涂了，要求她们予以解释。什么特权？什么欢乐？我想到家乡大多数男人那种艰难严酷、伤痛累累的生活。人们所说的他们从妻子和女儿那里偷走的东西又能是些什么呢？难道是每周五天、每年十二个月，如此三四十年里挤缩在纺织厂狭小的空间里，或是在煤矿下挣扎着从岩石般坚硬的泥土中挖出最后一点煤的劳作的权力？战死疆场的权利？修缮屋顶上每条裂缝和围栏上每个断栏的权利？为一个遥远的城市某个富裕财团垒积钱钞的权利？在遭遇解雇或煤矿倒闭时感到既害怕又羞耻的权利？
In this alien world of the rich, I was slow to understand the deep grievances of women. This was because, as a boy, I had envied them. Before college, the only people I had ever know
n who were interested in art or music or literature, the only ones who ever seemed to enjoy a sense of ease were the mothers and daughters. What's more, they did not have to go to war. By comparison with the narrow, compartmentalized days of fathers, the comparatively lightweight work of mothers seemed expansive. They clipped coupons, went to see neighbors, or ran errands at school or at church. I saw their lives as through a telescope, all twinkling stars and shafts of light, missing the details that truly defined their days. No doubt, had I taken a more deductive look at their lives, I would have envied them less. I didn't see, then, what a prison a house could be, since houses seemed to me brighter, handsomer places than any factory. As such things were never spoken of, I did not realize how often women suffered from men's bullying. Even then I could see how exhausting it was for a mother to cater all day to the needs of young children. But, as a boy, if I had to choose between tending a baby and tending a machine, I think I would have chosen the baby.
>sort of house翻译

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