作者简介
埃德加·爱伦·坡（Edgar Allan Poe,1809-1849），小说家、诗人、批评家。幼年时父母双亡，由商人约翰·爱伦收养为义子。1815年至1820年，他在伦敦读小学，后返回美国在弗吉尼亚大学、西点军校读书。1831年因违反校规被西点军校除名。此后，他一度以出卖文稿谋生，始终为生活的贫困所扰，后曾担任《南方文学使者》等多家刊物的编辑或评论家。1847年妻子病故，他颇为悲伤，不能自已，1849年因酗酒丧生。自青少年开始，他便对文学表现出浓厚的兴趣，阅览了大量的作品，而且很早显露出创作的天分。1827年，他自费出版了第一部诗集《帖木尔》（Tamerlane and Other Poems），随后出版的诗集包括《艾尔·阿拉夫》（Al Araaf,1829）、《诗集》（Poems,1831）和《乌鸦及其他诗篇》（The Raven and Other Poems,1845）。他的诗歌《乌鸦》1845年问世后，受到普遍好评，他的诗才也由此得到了社会的认同。与诗歌相比，他在短篇小说方面的成就更为显著，尤其长于创作哥特式小说和侦探小说，作品主要收入《述异集》（Tales of the Grotesque and Arabesque,1840）与《故事集》（Tales,1845）。其中的名篇有《厄舍古厦的倒塌》（“The Fail of the House of Usher”）、《红色死亡假面舞会》（“The Masque of the Red Death”）、《莉盖亚》（“Ligeia”）、《黑猫》（“The Black Cat”）、《阿芒提拉多的酒桶》（“The Cask of Amontinado”）、《莫格街谋杀案》（“Murders in the Rue Morgue”）、《被窃的信件》（“The Purloined Letter”）和《金甲虫》（“The Gold Bug”）。他的侦探小说历来为人称道，一般认为他是西方侦探小说的开山鼻祖。在文学理论方面，他也有不可忽视的建树，鼓吹“纯艺术”的文学价值观，主要理论著作包括《创作哲学》（“The Philosophy of Composition”，1846）和《诗歌原理》（“The Poetic Principle”，1850）。
赏析
与其同时代的小说家相比，爱伦·坡有许多与众不同之处。其中，最主要的方面之一是他既拥有自己较为系统的创作理论，又能够将其理论付诸于创作实践并取得了非凡的成就。按照他的理论，小说应当着力展示人的内心世界，尤其是人格中以往被忽视的病态或者阴暗的方面，而且叙事要简洁明了，力争使故事以较快的节奏发展到高潮，以便产生某种单一的预期效果。作为其短篇小说佳作之一，《阿芒提拉多的酒桶》体现了他的小说创作艺术的基本特征。
小说的主题是爱伦·坡惯于描写的恐怖和死亡。小说的背景为意大利，以第一人称讲述了主人公蒙特利瑟复仇的故事。小说开篇，蒙特利瑟决计找机会报复弗图纳多。狂欢节期间的一天，弗图纳多畅饮后酩耵大醉，穿戴得像游行队伍中的小丑一样。蒙特利瑟把握住了这个机会，告诉弗图纳多说：他购买了一桶阿芒提拉多酒，但是不能肯定是否真是这一著名品牌的酒。弗图纳多听后，执意要去鉴别酒的真伪。蒙特利瑟佯装推托不过，便带领弗图纳多来到自家的酒窖，引导到最深处的地窖后，旋即将其捆绑在一根事先准备好的铁桩上，接着用石头砌起一道墙，将酒窖的门堵死。弗图纳多终于明白过来，但为时已晚。
事件发生的地点选择在深邃、阴森的酒窖，仅有的两个人物都存在人格上的缺陷。在作者的笔下，弗图纳多的缺陷呈现在明处，而蒙特利瑟的缺陷则是隐匿的。刻画这种区别的意图，在于强化故事结尾的高潮到来时应有的恐怖效果。弗图纳多趾高气扬，目空蒙特利瑟，直到垂死时才霍然醒悟，认识到自己的愚蠢，但只能在绝望和痛苦中等待死亡的到来，歇斯底里的嚎叫改变不了他的命运。蒙特利瑟却自始至终清楚地知道将要发生的一切，他所希望看到的就是弗图纳多的死亡，却以虚伪的谦卑掩盖住了自己的意图。小说还暗示蒙特利瑟在杀人后可以逍遥法外，因为按照他的盘算，无人能知晓他的所作所为。小说的聚焦点正是从蒙特利瑟的老谋深算反衬出来的人格中更深层次的缺陷。他比弗图纳多更邪恶，更可怕，没有节制的复仇欲望完全毁坏了他的灵魂。
小说追求一种篇幅短小而节奏很快的叙事风格，从而使故事迅速到达高潮。为此，作者采取了许多巧妙而有效的方法。首先是削减背景信息，全篇只有开头的一句话交代背景：蒙特利瑟声言弗图纳多曾经多次严重地伤害过他，他出于无奈只能默默地忍受，但是却发誓要寻找机会报复。显而易见，他已经经历了漫长的筹划和等待的过程。至于人物的年龄、身材、容貌、职业、家庭状况等等，只字未提，甚至连故事发生的时间和地点都没有说明，只有“豪华的宫殿（paiazzo）”等几个词的意大利文化背景，提示故事可能发生在意大利。
爱伦·坡主张，在一首诗，或者一篇故事中，每一个字、每一句话、每一个细节都必须有助于实现整个作品的预期效果。可以说，这部小说语言凝练，没有一个字是多余的，没有一句是冗言，没有一个细节是可有可无的。比如，蒙特利瑟脱口而出的拉丁语，虽然只是只言片语，却反映了他接受教育的程度，并且自然而然地使他的文化修养与其残酷的报复形成强烈的对比。此外，作品中象征手法的使用也别具特色，例如，随着蒙特利瑟诱使弗图纳多向酒窖的深处走去，由于缺氧，火把的火光逐渐变小，加之酒桶四周的骷髅似乎也愈来愈多，预示弗图纳多存活的希望愈来愈小。如果将这部小说与《厄舍古厦的倒塌》和《莉盖亚》等同类作品参照阅读，可能会有助于把握上述艺术特色。
The Cask of Amontillado
The thousand injuries of Fortunato I had borne as I best could, but when he ventured upon insult I vowed revenge. You, who so well know the nature of my soul, will not suppose, I however, that I gave utterance to a threat.At length I would be avenged;this was a point definitively settled—but the very definitiveness with which it was resolved precluded the idea of risk.I must not only punish but punish with impunity [1].A wrong is unredressed when retribution overtakes its redresser.It is equally unredressed when the avenger fails to make himself felt as such to him who has done the wrong.It must be understood that neither by word nor deed had I given Fortunato cause to doubt my good will.I continued, as was my wont, to smile in his face, and he did not perceive that my smile now was at the thought of his immolation.
He had a weak point—this Fortunato—although in other regards he was a man to be respected and even feared. He prided himself upon his connoisseurship in wine.Few Italians have the true virtuoso spirit.For the most part their enthusiasm is adopted to suit the time and opportunity, to practice imposture upon the British and Austrian millionaires.In painting and gemmary, Fortunato, like his countrymen, was a quack [2]，but in the matter of old wines he was sincere.In this respect I did not differ from him materially—I was skilful in the Italian vintages myself, and bought largely whenever I could.
It was about dusk, one evening during the supreme madness of the carnival season, that I encountered my friend. He accosted me with excessive warmth, for he had been drinking much.The man wore motley [3].He had on a tight-fitting parti-striped dress, and his head was surmounted by the conical cap and bells.I was so pleased to see him that I thought I should never have done wringing his hand.
I said to him—“My dear Fortunato, you are luckily met. How remarkably well you are looking today.But I have received a pipe of what passes for Amontillado [4]，and I have my doubts.”“How?”said he.“Amontillado?A pipe?Impossible!And in the middle of the carnival!”
“I have my doubts,”I replied;“and I was silly enough to pay the full Amontillado price without consulting you in the matter. You were not to be found, and I was fearful of losing a bargain.”“Amontillado!”
“I have my doubts.”
“Amontillado!”
“And I must satisfy them.”
“Amontillado!”
“As you are engaged, I am on my way to Luchresi. If any one has a critical turn it is he.He will tell me—”
“Luchresi cannot tell Amontillado from Sherry.”
“And yet some fools will have it that his taste is a match for your own.”
“Come, let us go.”
“Whithe—r?”
“To your vaults.”
“My friend, no;I will not impose upon your good nature. I perceive you have an engagement.Luchresi—”
“I have no engagement;—come.”
“My friend, no. It is not the engagement, but the severe cold with which I perceive you are afflicted.The vaults are insufferably damp.They are encrusted with nitre [5].”
“Let us go, nevertheless. The cold is merely nothing.Amontillado!You have been imposed upon.And as for Luchresi, he cannot distinguish Sherry from Amontillado.”
Thus speaking, Fortunato possessed himself of my arm;and putting on a mask of black silk and drawing a roquelaire [6] closely about my person, I suffered him to hurry me to my palazzo [7]. There were no attendants at home;they had absconded to make merry in honour of the time.I had told them that I should not return until the morning, and had given them explicit orders not to stir from the house.These orders were sufficient, I well knew, to insure their immediate disappearance, one and all, as soon as my back was turned.
I took from their sconces two flambeaux, and giving one to Fortunato, bowed him through several suites of rooms to the archway that led into the vaults. I passed down a long and winding staircase, requesting him to be cautious as he followed.We came at length to the foot of the descent, and stood together upon the damp ground of the catacombs of the Montresors.The gait of my friend was unsteady, and the bells upon his cap jingled as he strode.
“The pipe,”said he.
“It is farther on,”said I;“but observe the white web-work which gleams from these cavern walls.”
He turned towards me, and looked into my eyes with two filmy orbs that distilled the rheum of intoxication.
“Nitre?”he asked, at length.
“Nitre,”I replied.“How long have you had that cough?”
“Ugh!ugh!ugh!—ugh!ugh!ugh!—ugh!ugh!ugh!—ugh!ugh!ugh!—ugh!ugh!ugh!”
My poor friend found it impossible to reply for many minutes.
“It is nothing,”he said, at last.
“Come,”I said, with decision,“we will go back;your health is precious. You are rich, respected, admired, beloved;you are happy, as once I was.You are a man to be missed.For me it is no matter.We will go back;you will be ill, and I cannot be responsible.Besides, there is Luchresi—”
“Enough,”he said;“the cough is a mere nothing;it will not kill me. I shall not die of a cough.”
“True—true,”I replied;“and, indeed, I had no intention of alarming you unnecessarily—but you should use all proper caution. A draught of this Medoc [8] will defend us from the damps.”Here I knocked off the neck of a bottle which I drew from a long row of its fellows that lay upon the mould.“Drink,”I said, presenting him the wine.
He raised it to his lips with a leer. He paused and nodded to me familiarly, while his bells jingled.
“I drink,”he said,“the buried that repose around us.”
“And I to your long life.”
He again took my arm, and we proceeded.“These vaults,”he said,“are extensive.”
“The Montresors,”I replied,“were a great and numerous family.”
“I forget your arms.”
“A huge human foot d'or, in a field azure;the foot crushes a serpent rampant whose fangs are imbedded in the heel.”
“And the motto?”
“Nemo me impune lacessit. [9]”
“Good!”he said.
The wine sparkled in his eyes and the bells jingled. My own fancy grew warm with the Medoc.We had passed through long walls of piled skeletons, with casks and puncheons intermingling, into the inmost recesses of the catacombs.I paused again, and this time I made bold to seize Fortunato by an arm above the elbow.
“The nitre!”I said;“see, it increases. It hangs like moss upon the vaults.We are below the river's bed.The drops of moisture trickle among the bones.Come, we will go back ere it is too late.Your cough—”
“It is nothing,”he said;“let us go on. But first, another draught of the Medoc.”
I broke and reached him a flagon of De Grave. He emptied it at a breath.His eyes flashed with a fierce light.He laughed and threw the bottle upwards with a gesticulation I did not understand.I looked at him in surprise.He repeated the movement—a grotesque one.[10]
“You do not comprehend?”he said.
“Not I,”I replied.
“Then you are not of the brotherhood.”
“How?”
“You are not of the masons.”
“Yes, yes,”I said;“Yes, yes.”
“You?Impossible!A mason?”
“A mason,”I replied.
“A sign,”he said,“a sign.”
“It is this,”I answered, producing from beneath the folds of my roquelaire a trowel.
“You jest,”he exclaimed, recoiling a few paces.“But let us proceed to the Amontillado.”
“Be it so,”I said, replacing the tool beneath the cloak and again offering him my arm. He leaned upon it heavily.We continued our rout in search of the Amontillado.We passed through a range of low arches, descended, passed on, and descending again, arrived at a deep crypt, in which the foulness of the air caused our flambeaux rather to glow than flame.
At the most remote end of the crypt there appeared another less spacious. Its walls had been lined with human remains, piled to the vault overhead, in the fashion of the great catacombs of Paris.Three sides of this interior crypt were still ornamented in this manner.From the fourth side the bones had been thrown down, and lay promiscuously upon the earth, forming at one point a mound of some size.Within the wall thus exposed by the displacing of the bones, we perceived a still interior crypt or recess, in depth about four feet, in width three, in height six or seven.It seemed to have been constructed for no especial use within itself, but formed merely the interval between two of the colossal supports of the roof of the catacombs, and was backed by one of their circumscribing walls of solid granite.
It was in vain that Fortunato, uplifting his dull torch, endeavoured to pry into the depth of the recess. Its termination the feeble light did not enable us to see.
“Proceed,”I said;“herein is the Amontillado. As for Luchresi—”
“He is an ignoramus [11]，”interrupted my friend, as he stepped unsteadily forward, while I followed immediately at his heels. In an instant he had reached the extremity of the niche, and finding his progress arrested by the rock, stood stupidly bewildered.A moment more and I had fettered him to the granite.In its surface were two iron staples, distant from each other about two feet, horizontally.From one of these depended a short chain, from the other a padlock.Throwing the links about his waist, it was but the work of a few seconds to secure it.He was too much astounded to resist.Withdrawing the key I stepped back from the recess.“Pass your hand,”I said,“over the wall;you cannot help feeling the nitre.Indeed, it is very damp.Once more let me implore you to return.No?Then I must positively leave you.But I will first render you all the little attentions in my power.”
“The Amontillado!”ejaculated my friend, not yet recovered from his astonishment.
“True,”I replied;“the Amontillado.”
As I said these words I busied myself among the pile of bones of which I have before spoken. Throwing them aside, I soon uncovered a quantity of building stone and mortar.With these materials and with the aid of my trowel, I began vigorously to wall up the entrance of the niche.
I had scarcely laid the first tier of the masonry when I discovered that the intoxication of Fortunato had in great measure worn off. The earliest indication I had of this was a low moaning cry from the depth of the recess.It was not the cry of a drunken man.There was then a long and obstinate silence.I laid the second tier, and the third, and the fourth;and then I heard the furious vibration of the chain.The noise lasted for several minutes, during which, that I might hearken to it with the more satisfaction, I ceased my labours and sat down upon the bones.When at last the clanking subsided, I resumed the trowel, and finished without interruption the fifth, the sixth, and the seventh tier.The wall was now nearly upon a level with my breast.I again paused, and holding the flambeaux over the mason-work, threw a few feeble rays upon the figure within.
A succession of loud and shrill screams, bursting suddenly from the throat of the chained form, seemed to thrust me violently back. For a brief moment I hesitated, I trembled.Unsheathing my rapier, I began to grope with it about the recess;but the thought of an instant reassured me.I placed my hand upon the solid fabric of the catacombs and felt satisfied.I reapproached the wall.I replied to the yells of him who clamoured.I re-echoed, I aided, I surpassed them in volume and in strength.I did this, and the clamourer grew still.
It was now midnight, and my task was drawing to a close. I had completed the eighth, the ninth and the tenth tier.I had finished a portion of the last and the eleventh;there remained but a single stone to be fitted and plastered in.I struggled with its weight;I placed it partially in its destined position.But now there came from out the niche a low laugh that erected the hairs upon my head.It was succeeded by a sad voice, which I had difficulty in recognizing as that of the noble Fortunato.The voice said—
“Ha!ha!ha!—he!he!he!—a very good joke, indeed—an excellent jest. We will have many a rich laugh about it at the palazzo—he!he!he!—over our wine—he!he!he!”
“The Amontilladon!”said.
“He!he!he!—he!he!he!—yes, the Amontillado. But is it not getting late?Will not they be awaiting us at the palazzo—the Lady Fortunato and the rest?Let us be gone.”
“Yes,”I said,“let us be gone.”
“For the love of God, Montresor!”
“Yes,”I said,“for the love of God!”
But to these words I hearkened in vain for a reply. I grew impatient.I called aloud—“Fortunato!”No answer.I called again—
“Fortunato!”
No answer still. I thrust a torch through the remaining aperture and let it fall within.There came forth in return only a jingling of the bells.My heart grew sick;it was the dampness of the catacombs that made it so.I hastened to make an end of my labour.I forced the last stone into its position;I plastered it up.Against the new masonry I re-erected the old rampart of bones.For the half of a century no mortal has disturbed them.In pace requiescat![12]
Question:
1.Who is the narrator?What wrong does he want to redress?
2.What is the pretext he uses to lure Fortunato to his wine cellar?
3.What happens to Fortunato in the end?
4.Describe briefly how Poe characterizes Montresor and Fortunato as contrasts?
注释
[1]I must not only punish but punish with impunity.我不仅必须要惩罚，而且还要使自己不受伤害地实施惩罚。蒙特利瑟一方面发誓要报复弗图纳多，另一方面还想方设法使报复行为神不知鬼不晓，自己不会因此而受到牵连。
[2]quack:冒充内行的人；二五眼；骗子。
[3]motley:小丑穿的色彩斑斓的服装。
[4]Amontillado:一种低度的西班牙葡萄酒。
[5]nitre:硝石。
[6]roquelaire:一种可以垂及膝盖的斗篷。
[7]palazzo:豪华的宫殿；邸宅。
[8]Medoc:产于法国波尔多的一种葡萄酒。
[9]Nemo me impune lacessit.拉丁文，意为：谁也不能侮辱我而不受到惩罚。
[10]De Grave:产于法国波尔多的一种白葡萄酒。
[11]ignoramus:笨人；毫无知识的人。
[12]In pace requiescat!拉丁语，意为：愿他安息。
