英语学习网站弗吉尼亚·伍尔芙（Adeline Virginia Woolf，1882年1月25日-1941年3月28日），出生于伦敦，毕业于伦敦大学国王学院，英国女作家、文学批评家和文学理论家。她是意识流文学的代表人物，被誉为二十世纪现代主义与女性主义的先锋，代表作有《达洛维夫人》《到灯塔去》等。
Virginia Woolf (January 25, 1882 – March 28, 1941), born in London, graduated from King’s College London, British female writer, literary critic and literary theorist. She is a representative figure of stream-of-consciousness literature and is known as the pioneer of modernism and feminism in the 20th century. Her representative works include “Mrs. Dalloway” and “To the Lighthouse”.
伍尔芙一生勤奋，著述丰富，除小说创作外，还有大量的散文、日记等，供后人研 究的第一手材料收集得已经十分完全。伍尔芙认为写作要摒弃纷繁的物质表象，在对自然与生命本质的探求中定格人类“存在的”“有意味的”“瞬间”，通过人物的瞬间感悟揭开生活的面纱，触探生命的哲理。
In addition to her novels, Woolf also wrote a large number of essays and diaries, so that the first-hand materials for posterity have been completely collected. Woolf believed that writing should be free from complicated material appearances and frame the “existential” and “meaningful” “moments” of human beings in the search for the essence of nature and life. Through the momentary perceptions of the characters, the veil of life is unveiled and the philosophy of life is explored.
伍尔芙的文学创作注重人物的 精神世界。她在《论现代小说》一文中指出“心灵接纳了成千上万个印象——琐屑的、奇异的、倏忽即逝的，用锋利的钢刀深深地铭刻在心头的印象”，而作家的任务就是将这些印象记录下来，从而描绘出“这种变化多端、不可名状、难以界定、解说的内在精神”，来揭示内心活动的本质。伍尔芙的这种创作理念也决定了海洋这一意象，在《到灯塔去》中正是人物在不同阶段对现实生活的内心感受和情感反映。
Woolf’s literary work focuses on the spiritual world of her characters. In her essay “On the Modern Novel,” she points out that “the mind receives thousands of impressions – trivial, strange, fleeting, deeply engraved in the heart with a sharp steel knife” – and the writer’s task is to record these impressions, thus The writer’s task is to record these impressions, so as to portray “this changing, indefinable, indefinable, inexplicable inner spirit” and to reveal the essence of inner activity. Woolf’s creative concept also determines the imagery of the ocean, which in “To the Lighthouse” is a reflection of the characters’ inner feelings and emotions about real life at different stages.
她的意识流小说创作开始于小说《雅各的房间》。她比较推崇 哈代、 康拉德等作家，认为他们的作品更加接近于人的内心世界。哈代的作品是 自然主义和 宿命论的混合。她最推崇的作家当然是詹姆斯·乔伊斯。伍尔芙把乔伊斯的创作称为“精神主义”，事实上，伍尔芙的创作，就是在乔伊斯的影响下完成的。她在小说中尝试意识流的写作方法，试图去描绘在人们心底里的潜意识。有人在一篇评论里讲到她将英语“朝着光明的方向推进了一小步”。她在文学上的成就和创造性至今仍然产生很大的影响。伍尔芙在写作中逐步确立并完善了意识流小说创作技巧，使之成为意识流小说理论的集大成者，也使其本人成为当之无愧的意识流小说的代表作家之一。在散文方面，伍尔芙以其“谁也模仿不了的英国式的优美洒脱、学识渊博”，而被誉为“英国散文大家中的最后一人”、“英国传统散文的大师”以及“新散文的首创者。”
She began her work on stream-of-consciousness fiction with her novel Jacob’s Room. She is a great admirer of writers such as Hardy and Conrad, who she considers to be closer to the inner world of human beings. Hardy’s work is a mixture of naturalism and fatalism. Her most admired author is, of course, James Joyce. Woolf refers to Joyce’s work as “spiritualism” and, in fact, Woolf’s work was influenced by Joyce. She experimented with stream-of-consciousness writing in her novels, trying to portray the subconscious in people’s minds. In a review, she was said to have taken the English language “a small step in the direction of light. Her literary achievements and creativity remain highly influential today. In her writing, Woolf gradually established and perfected the techniques of stream-of-consciousness fiction, making her a master of the theory of stream-of-consciousness fiction, and making her one of the most deserving writers of stream-of-consciousness fiction. In terms of prose, Woolf is known as “the last of the great English prose writers”, “the master of English traditional prose”, and “the master of the new prose” for his “inimitable English elegance and knowledge”. “and “the first creator of the new prose.”
伍尔芙的创作也从诗歌、音乐、绘画中得到很多启示。诗歌和音乐的意象运用充满了她的创作，印象派绘画对她的影响表现在她致力于捕捉瞬间印象，也使她的感觉更加细腻灵敏。在《夜行》、《夜幕下的苏塞克斯》、《伦敦街头历险记》等文中，她更是色调鲜明地描绘了大自然留给她的印象与感受。在《伦敦街头历险记》中，作者的如椽之笔像一只硕大的摄像机镜头，无所不知、无孔不入地给人们展示了一幅幅行云流水般的画面：从伦敦街头一扇窗户里的一个沏茶女人到靴子店里买鞋的矮子，从顶楼的金箔匠转过街角碰到的犹太人，从小市民家里的小地毯到阳台上高谈阔论的首相，从旧书店到月光下奔跑的猫，直至最后飘落到一家小文具店遇到吵架的店主老夫妇。时间、地点、人物的变换如天马行空、鸟飞无痕。主题似乎越扯越远，直到最后仅有若有若无的 文思把整篇文章贯穿在一起。看着那一幅幅由文字涂抹出来的明艳画面，不由人不想到称她为“印象派文学家”确是非常合乎实际的。
Woolf’s compositions also draw much inspiration from poetry, music, and painting. The use of imagery in poetry and music fills her compositions, and the influence of Impressionist painting is evident in her dedication to capturing momentary impressions, which also made her senses more delicate and sensitive. In texts such as “Night Walk”, “Sussex by Night” and “Adventures in the Streets of London”, she even depicts the impressions and feelings left to her by nature in vivid tones. In “Adventures in the Streets of London,” the author’s rafter-like pen is like a large camera lens, omniscient and pervasive, showing people a running picture: from a woman making tea in a window in the streets of London to a dwarf buying shoes in a boot store, from a gilder on the top floor turning the corner to a Jew, from a small carpet in a small citizen’s house to a prime minister talking on a balcony, from an old bookstore to a runner running in the moonlight. From the old bookstore to the cat running in the moonlight, until finally drifting down to a small stationery store where they meet the old couple who are quarrelling. The time, place and characters change like the sky and the birds fly without a trace. The theme seems to get farther and farther away, until finally there are only a few words of thought that hold the whole article together. Looking at the brightly colored pictures painted by words, one cannot help but think that calling her an “impressionist literary figure” is indeed very true.
That day we went to visit a valley on the west side of St. Ives Bay called Treville. The autumn dusk had fallen before we embarked on our journey home, and the sea view was still visible in the twilight: the huge cliffs, forming a solemn and magnificent procession. The blue waves of the Atlantic Ocean, towering as if with some conscious divine mission, as if they must obey a decree sent down since the beginning of chaos; a distant lighthouse from time to time shot a golden light, penetrating the mist, suddenly reproduced the hideousness of the rocky cliffs. This light, indeed, people breathlessly stare, breathtaking. It was getting late, and there were still six or seven miles ahead of us to move our feet and walk back. Moreover, we are extremely unfamiliar with this area, so we feel it is best not to leave the main road, so as not to go off. Sure enough, within half an hour, even the white pavement under our feet like a fog floating up. We had to move forward one step at a time, as if we had to use our feet to try to see if we had stepped on the ground. A figure fell a few yards behind, swayed a few times, and then disappeared without a trace, as if swallowed by the black waters of the night, and his voice, sounded as if from the abyss of ten thousand feet. What is striking is that, although we walked close to each other and tried to counteract the darkness with lively and cheerful arguments, our voices sounded unnatural and somewhat alien to each other, and our fullest reasoning seemed weak and unconvincing. And without realizing it, our conversation slipped into topics that are only appropriate in dark and gloomy places.
那天，我们去圣艾夫斯湾西侧一个名叫特雷韦尔的山谷地带游览。踏上归途之前，秋日的黄昏已经降临，那一片海景，在暮色中依然清晰可见： 巨大的悬崖峭壁，组成一排庄严宏伟的队伍。大西洋的万顷碧波，巍然耸立，像是怀有某种自觉的神圣使命，仿佛必须服从自混沌初开就降下的一道旨令;远处一座灯塔不时地射出一道金色的光芒，穿透雾霭，突然地再现了岩石崖壁的狰狞。这光景，确实令人屏息凝眸，叹为观止。天色不早了，而前面还有六七英里的路程需要我们挪动双脚走回去。况且，我们对这一地带极其陌生，所以自觉最好不要离开大路，以免出岔。果然，不出半小时，连我们脚下的白色路面都像雾气似的飘动起来。我们不得不一步一探地往前挪动，宛如要用脚来试试是否踩到了实地似的。一个人影落到后面几码远处，晃了几晃，然后就消失得无影无踪，仿佛被夜的黑水吞噬了，而他的声音，听起来也像从万丈深渊下传来的一样。引人注意的是，尽管我们行走时互相都靠得很近，而且想用热烈欢快的争论来抵御黑暗，可是我们的声音彼此听起来都显得不自然，有点异样，最充分的说理也显得软弱无力，难以让人信服。而且我们的交谈在不知不觉之间就滑到了那些只适合于在幽暗阴郁的场所谈的话题上。
Every once in a while, everyone stops talking, so silence descends. At this point, the figure walking beside you seems to have lost its presence in the night, and you are the only one walking alone. You begin to feel the aggressive pressure of the darkness around you, to feel your strength to resist this pressure gradually weakening, to feel your spirit separated from your body moving forward on the ground, becoming another entity: the spirit drifts away from you as if fainting; even the road leaves you behind, and we tread (if I can describe this ambiguous movement now with the clear and precise movement of walking through the fields in the daytime) If I can describe this ambiguous movement now with the clear and precise movement of walking through the fields in the daytime), we are treading on the ocean of the night, which is so vast and so small that no path can be found. It is better to test the path below with one’s feet from time to time, in order to prove that it is unquestionably solid ground. The eyes and ears were so tightly closed, or in other words, so numbed by the weight of something untouchable, that when the illusion of a few bright lights appeared below, we needed to exert some effort to become aware of their existence. Did we really see the light, like the light of day, or was it just a vision in the brain, like a gold star after a blow to the eye? The lights were there, hanging in a canyon below us, unanchored, suspended in the dark, soft depths. As soon as our eyes recognized that they did exist, our minds came to their senses and constructed a sketch of a small world in which to place them: there must be a mountain, a town lying beneath it, and a road running through it, as we remembered it. A few lights would be enough to give shape to this little world. The strangest part of our journey was coming to an end, because something visible had finally appeared, giving us clear proof. And we felt that we were on a path and could move forward more comfortably. There were human beings in the area below, although they were different from those in the daytime. Suddenly, a fire blazed around us, and the moment we saw it, the rattling of the wheels became audible: the image of a man driving a cargo wagon flashed before our eyes. Only a moment later, the light was gone, the sound of the wheels was muffled, and our words could no longer reach the man’s ears. Then, as if all sorts of sights were suddenly appearing and disappearing before our eyes, we found ourselves in a farmyard with a wind lamp hanging over it, its wavering circle of light throwing itself on a group of huddled animals, and even reflecting part of our long-lost figures. The voice of the farmer bidding us good night was like a strong hand clutching ours, pulling us back to the shore of the real world. Yet another step forward and a boundless torrent of darkness and silence covered us again. But several points of light reappeared beside us, swimming on the sea as if they were lights on a ship. Their silent footsteps drew closer to us – the very same lights we had seen on the hilltop. It was a village, silent, but not asleep, it seemed to lie there with wide eyes, fighting tenaciously against the darkness. We can distinguish some figures against the wall of the house, these people are obviously by the window outside the weight of the darkness of the night a stone’s throw away from sleep, had to come outside the house, into the embrace of the night. Surrounded by the vast black waves on all sides, how insignificant is the light of those lights! A boat drifting in the vast ocean is lonely, but anchored in the desolate land, facing the unfathomable dark ocean of this small village, when more lonely.
每过一阵，大家都停止了说话，于是沉默降临了。这时，你身边走着的那个人影似乎在夜色中丧失了它的存在，只有你孤身一人踽踽而行。你开始感受到四周的黑暗那咄咄逼人的压力，感受到你抗拒这重压的力量在逐渐减弱，感觉到你的精神与在地上往前移动的躯体分开了，成了另一种实体： 精神飘飘悠悠的，好似昏厥了似的离你而去;甚至这条路也在身后离开了你，我们踩踏(假如我可以用在白昼穿行田野时那种明朗确切的动作来形容现在这种暧昧不明的动作)着的是浩浩渺渺无径可寻的夜之海洋。最好能不时地用脚来试探试探下面的路，以便证明它无可怀疑地是坚实的土地。眼睛和耳朵都紧紧地封闭着，或换句话说，由于承受着某种触摸不着的东西的重压，变得麻木不仁了，以至于当下方呈现出几点亮光的幻影时，我们竟然需要使劲儿地费一番力才意识到它们的存在。难道我们真的看到了亮光，就像白天看到的光线一样，抑或那只不过是大脑中浮现的幻象，如同眼睛受到打击后看到的金星?这些亮光就在那儿，在我们下面的一个峡谷里悬挂着，没有锚索加以固定，临空悬浮在黑暗柔软的深海中。我们的眼睛刚刚辨明它们确实存在，头脑就立刻清醒过来，构起了一个小天地的草图，将它们安置在其中：那儿必定有一座山，山下躺卧着一个小镇，一条道路贯穿着小镇，犹如我们记忆中的那样。数点灯火，就足以使这个小天地物化成形了。我们旅程的最奇异一段即将过去，因为某种可以看见的东西终于出现了，给了我们明确的证明。而且我们也感到自己正走在一条道路上，能够比较自在地朝前迈步了。在下面的那块地方也有着人类，虽然他们不同于白天的人。忽然之间，我们的身边燃起了一团火光，就在我们看到它的一刹那，车轮的嘎嘎声也清晰可闻：眼前闪现出一个人驾着一辆运货马车的形象。只一刹那后，亮光不见了，车轮声也哑了，我们的话声再也送不到那人的耳中了。接着，恰似各种景象在我们眼前倏忽出现和隐没，我们发现自己已置身于一个农家庭院，院里悬着一盏风灯，它那摇曳不定的光圈投向一群挤在一起的牲口，甚至也映照出我们久而隐之不见的部分身影。农家主人向我们道晚安的声音，如同一只强有力的手紧紧地抓住了我们的手，把我们拉回到现实世界的岸边。然而再往前迈步，黑暗和寂静的无边洪流又将我们覆盖。不过数点灯光再度出现在我们身旁，犹如船上的灯火一样游动在海上。它们的无声的脚步向我们靠拢——这正是我们在山顶上看到的那些灯火。这是个村庄，静穆无声，但并未沉睡，它仿佛瞪大了眼睛躺在那儿，同黑暗作着顽强的搏斗。我们可以分辨出背靠着屋墙的一些人影，这些人显然是被窗外咫尺之隔的黑夜的重负压得难以成眠，只好来到屋外，投入了夜的怀抱。在四面广阔无垠的黑色波涛包围下，那些灯火的光芒是多么地微不足道呵!飘零在浩渺的汪洋之中的一只船，堪称孤独，然而碇泊在荒凉的大地上，面对着那深不可测的黑暗海洋的这小小村落，当更为孤寂。
However, once you get used to this wonder, you will find that there is a magnificent serenity and beauty in it. At this time, what fills the heaven and earth seems to be only physical phantoms and spirits. Where there were mountains, there are now floating clouds; houses turn into a little fire. The eyes are bathed in the deep sea of night, and get an excellent rest without the wear and tear of the hard shell of real things. The earth, which contains endless trivial objects, has dissolved into a chaotic space. The four walls of the house were too narrow for the eyes that had recovered from fatigue and become sensitive, and the light of the lamp was too blinding. Like a bird that was once caught in a cage and freed from the cage, we were able to fly without restraint.
但是，一旦习惯了这种奇异之处，你就会发现，那里面有着宏大的宁静与美。这时，充斥于天地间的似乎只是实物的幻影和精灵。原先是山峦的地方，现在飘浮着云朵;房屋变成了点点火光。眼睛沐浴在夜的深海里，没有现实事物的坚硬外壳的磨损，获得了极好的休憩。那包容着无穷无尽琐屑什物的大地，则已融解为一片混沌的空间。对于恢复了疲劳，变得敏感的双目，那房屋的四壁是过于狭隘了，那灯火的光芒是过于刺眼了。犹如曾经被抓去囚禁在笼中的飞鸟挣脱了鸟笼一般，我们此时才得以无拘无束地振翼高飞。
(孔小炯、黄梅 译)
文字来源：百度《夜行》，伍尔芙
