When I was about 14, a woman came to our school to talk about self-defence. She was a lady in her fifties, with sensibly cut white-blonde hair and a pair of plastic-framed spectacles. There was about her a pervading air of kindness and motherliness.

在我大概十四歲時，一位女士來我們學(xué)校講授防身術(shù)。她五十多歲，一頭淺色金發(fā)修剪得恰到好處，戴著一副膠框眼鏡，周身散發(fā)出一種和善、慈愛的氣息。

Her homely appearance was distinctly at odds1) with the rather extreme and frequently violent things she suggested we do to ward off2) potential attackers. We were shown how to transform a bundle of keys into a makeshift3) knuckle-duster4) in order to inflict maximum damage. If that failed, we were advised to go for their eyes with our fingers. All of this was delivered in a kind of soft, fluting voice more readily associated with a demonstration on flower arranging.

她的外表親切平和，而她建議我們用來擊退那些可能的襲擊者時所采取的動作卻非常極端，又往往充滿暴力，兩者相比，真是大相徑庭。她向我們演示如何把一大串鑰匙變成一個應(yīng)急指節(jié)銅環(huán)，給襲擊者造成最大的傷害。如果這一招不奏效，她建議我們用手指直戳對方的眼睛。她給我們講解這一切時，聲音柔和清亮，如長笛般悠揚，讓人覺得這更像是在做插花演示，而非防襲講座。

But years after this talk, when I first moved to London, I felt strangely reassured. On the odd occasion that I found myself walking home at night from the tube5) across a stretch of dimly lit parkland, I would remind myself of the bunch of keys in my handbag that I could whip out with lightning speed to deter any would-be mugger. I walked briskly and confidently, flexing my fingers in readiness for a spot of eye-gouging6), feeling that I would be quite able to fend off any pursuer with a swift knee to the groin7). The longer I lived in London, the savvier8) I felt. It was not confidence exactly, but more that I began to believe I knew how the city worked. I trusted my instincts to keep me safe—my instincts and my bunch of keys.

不過，聽完這堂課多年后，當(dāng)我第一次搬到倫敦時，卻帶著一種莫名的自信。我偶爾會在夜晚從地鐵站穿過一片燈光昏暗的公用場地走路回家，那時我總是會提醒自己：包里有一大串鑰匙，如果遇到搶劫犯，我可以以電閃雷鳴之速抽出鑰匙來嚇退他。我的步伐輕快而自信，還不時活動活動手指，準備在必要時挖出對方的眼睛，我覺得只要用膝蓋對他的腹股溝迅猛一擊，任何尾隨而來的侵犯者對我來說都不在話下。我在倫敦生活的時間越長，就越覺得自己精明能干。準確地說，這不是一種信心，更主要的原因是，我開始相信自己了解這個城市的運轉(zhuǎn)方式。我相信我的本能反應(yīng)可以保護自身安全——我的本能反應(yīng)加上那一大串鑰匙。

It was a Sunday evening in November 2005 when all that changed. I was returning from a work trip and was carrying more bags than usual: a laptop over one shoulder, my handbag over the other and in my right hand, a plastic bag filled with clothes. It was dark by the time I got out of the tube, the air dense with cold.

但是，在2005年11月一個星期天的晚上，這一切都改變了。那天我出差回來，正往家走，身上帶的包比平時要多：一個肩膀上挎著筆記本電腦，另一個肩膀上背著我的手提包，右手還拎了一個裝滿衣服的塑料袋。我走出地鐵站的時候，天已經(jīng)黑了，空氣中寒意襲人。

I was about 200 metres from my front door when a group of young men appeared around the corner in front of me. I clocked9) them swiftly, without making eye contact. There were four of them, all teenagers. They stopped talking when they saw me, the low murmur of their chatter dropping like a stone through water. But although I felt a brief shiver of apprehension10) at their presence, nothing happened. They walked on without comment.

就在離我家前門只有兩百米左右的時候，一群年輕人出現(xiàn)在我前方的拐角處。我迅速地掃視了他們一眼，沒有和他們對視。他們有四個人，都是十幾歲的小年輕。他們看見我后就停止了聊天，開始壓低聲音竊竊私語起來，那聲音對我來說就像是往平靜的水面扔進了一塊石頭，讓我心里七上八下。盡管看到他們的出現(xiàn)，我心里有那么一小陣恐懼和顫抖，但所幸什么事也沒有發(fā)生。他們默默地從我身邊走過。

I walked on. There was no one else about. The houses on either side of the street were shuttered and quiet. The only light came from a nearby lamppost. Then I heard footsteps: someone sprinting towards me from behind. I could hear this person running, running, running and I knew, in a split-second of pure certainty, that I was going to get mugged11).

我繼續(xù)向前走。四周再沒有別的人。街兩邊的房子都大門緊閉，非常安靜。附近的一盞街燈投來僅有的一點光亮。這時我聽到了腳步聲：有人從后面朝我沖了過來。我能聽到這個人一直在跑，跑，跑。在一瞬間我知道，我非?？隙ǖ刂溃乙淮蚪倭?。

Someone pulled hard on my laptop case, snapping my shoulder back with the force of the movement. I reeled, noticing as I stumbled that the four of them had formed a sort of circle around me. None of them said anything and somehow this silence, the sureness of it, was more lethal12) than noise.

接著就是有人使勁拽我的筆記本電腦包，因為用力太猛，我的肩膀也被向后扯了過去。我打了個趔趄，就在打趔趄的工夫我注意到，他們四個人已經(jīng)對我形成了包圍之勢。四個人都一言不發(fā)，這樣的沉默帶著勢在必得的意味，實在是比嘈雜的廝打聲更有殺傷力。

A face emerged from the darkness: young, male, with chubby13) cheeks and expressionless eyes. He pushed me against a wall, grabbing hold of my handbag with one hand, tugging at it to make me let go. I kept hold of it, clasping the straps tightly in my hand. He raised his right arm and slammed it down across my face. I remember thinking that it did not hurt as much as I thought it would. I looked at him blankly. My attacker tried again to grab hold of my handbag but again I refused to let go. I held on to it and the only thing I said, throughout it all, was a hoarse, semi-whispered: “No.” I did not scream or shout for help. I did not have my bunch of keys at the ready14) like a makeshift knuckle-duster. In fact, I did not fight back at all. I did nothing. Except, for some reason, I refused to give him my bag. I remember thinking, quite clearly: I’ll let him hit me until it starts to hurt and then I’ll give him the bag.

這時從黑暗中浮現(xiàn)出一張臉龐：年輕，男性，胖臉蛋，一雙眼睛看不出任何表情。他把我推到墻上，一只手抓住我的手提包，使勁地拽，試圖讓我放手。我緊緊地抓著手提包上的肩帶，怎么也不肯松開。他舉起右臂，朝我臉上扇了一巴掌。我記得自己當(dāng)時還在想：這沒有我想象中那么疼。我面無表情地看著他。他再一次企圖把我的手提包搶走，但我又一次拒絕放手。我牢牢地抓著包，在整個過程中唯一說過的話，就是一句聲音沙啞、近乎耳語的“不”。我既沒有尖叫，也沒有大呼救命。我沒有把那一大串準備好的鑰匙變成應(yīng)急的指節(jié)銅環(huán)。事實上，我壓根就沒有還手。除了出于某種原因我拒絕把包給他以外，我什么都沒做。我非常清晰地記得自己當(dāng)時的想法：就讓他打我吧，等我真的覺得疼了，我再把包給他。

I was dimly aware of the other three men loitering uneasily on the pavement, awaiting direction from the ringleader15). One of the other boys, impatient at the lack of progress, made a sudden lunge for me, knocking me to the ground. I could feel the laptop being taken and I had no energy left to care. Lying there on the pavement, the coolness of the stone pressing against me, I realised how stupid I had been to resist. Once they had the laptop, they were satisfied. They ran into the darkness without a word.

當(dāng)時我隱隱約約地意識到，其他三個男孩正在人行道上不安地徘徊，等著他們的頭目發(fā)出指令。其中一個男孩看到行動毫無進展，就失去了耐心，猛地朝我沖了過來，一拳將我打倒在地。我能感覺到他們搶走了我的筆記本電腦，但此時我根本無力顧及。我就這么仰面躺在人行道上，冰冷的石頭硌著我的身體，我這才意識到自己的抵抗是多么愚蠢。他們一拿到筆記本電腦，立刻便心滿意足了，一句話也沒說就跑掉了，消失在黑暗中。

It was only then that I began to be scared. The plastic bag I had been carrying had been slashed in two, its contents taken. The laptop had gone and with it my iPod. One of my shoes was lying on the road, several metres away from me. But my handbag, miraculously, was still mine, as were my keys, my wallet and my mobile phone. I stood up, collected the shoe and limped to my front door, put the key in the lock and fell into the hallway. Immediately, I called the police. When I spoke to them, I realised I was sobbing.

直到此時，我才開始害怕起來。我本來拎在手里的塑料袋已被扯成兩半，里面的東西被搶劫一空。筆記本電腦連同我的iPod都被搶走了。我的鞋子也掉了一只，躺在馬路上，離我有好幾米遠。不過，不可思議的是，我的手提包居然沒被搶走，我的鑰匙、錢包和手機也都還在包里。我爬了起來，撿起那只鞋子，一瘸一拐地走到我家前門，拿出鑰匙開了門，然后就一頭栽倒在了門廳里。我立刻打電話報了警。當(dāng)我和警察說話的時候，才意識到自己是邊說邊抽泣。

In the days that followed, I looked back at my behaviour with some astonishment. It did not seem quite real, as though I were trying to make out some faraway object through a layer of thick glass. By holding on to my bag with such recklessness, I had reacted in precisely the opposite way that I would have thought. I had ignored everything I had been taught that day at school about the best way to deal with a mugging which was to scream for help, to give them your bag then get away as fast as you can. I think, perhaps, it was the unfairness of the attack that made me so stubborn: the idea that a stranger could steal something from me that was mine. And that, in the end, overrode my instinct towards self-preservation.

接下來的幾天里，每每回想起我那天的行為，我總是感到驚愕不已。那天發(fā)生的一切對我來說似乎都不太真實了，就像我正在透過一層厚玻璃，努力去看清很遠處的某個東西。我不顧一切地死死拽住我的包，這樣的反應(yīng)和我曾經(jīng)以為自己會作出的反應(yīng)完全相反。那天在學(xué)校里我學(xué)到過，如果遇到搶劫，最好的辦法是大呼救命，把你的包交給劫匪，然后盡快逃跑。可事到臨頭時，我把這一切都拋在了腦后。我想，也許是因為我覺得這樣的攻擊太不公平了，所以才會有那么固執(zhí)的反應(yīng)：憑什么一個陌生人可以搶走本來屬于我的東西。而這個想法最終超越了我的自我保護本能。

For about three months after it happened, I felt frightened. When I walked to the tube in the morning, I would take a lit cigarette with me, believing that it would be a more effective weapon to stab in someone’s face than a bunch of keys. In the end, I sold my flat and moved to a different part of the city.

在事發(fā)后大約三個月的時間里，我一直驚魂未定。當(dāng)我早上步行去地鐵站時，我總會在手里拿一支點燃的香煙，心里認定用這個“武器”去戳襲擊者的臉會比一串鑰匙更管用。最后，我賣掉了原來的公寓，搬到了這座城市的另一個區(qū)域。

I realised that you can never truly know how anyone will react in an extreme situation. You can be taught the right thing to do, you can have it drilled into you and you can believe that you will carry this out, but, in the end, we are unpredictable beasts. People make the most extraordinary decisions and can behave in wholly irrational ways. They are constantly interesting. I thought I knew myself fairly well before I was mugged, but I didn’t. I simply knew what I ought to do, not how I would actually respond.

我已經(jīng)意識到，你永遠都無法真正了解一個人在極端情形之下會作出怎樣的反應(yīng)。你可以學(xué)習(xí)正確的方法，你可以通過訓(xùn)練掌握這種方法，你也可以相信事情發(fā)生時你會把所學(xué)的方法和技巧都發(fā)揮出來，但最后的結(jié)果證明，我們?nèi)祟愂且环N難以捉摸的動物。人會作出最不尋常的決定，也會表現(xiàn)得毫無理性。人類非常有趣，一貫如此。在被搶劫之前，我認為我非常了解自己，但事實上并非如此。我只是知道我應(yīng)該怎么做，但我并不知道自己實際上會有怎樣的反應(yīng)。

If it happened to me again, I like to think I would hand over my bag without question. But I have no means of knowing whether this would be so. I suppose, in some respects, this is why I will always be endlessly curious about people because, however many questions you ask, however many scenarios you might imagine, no one will ever truly understand what goes on beneath another person’s skin. And that, in its own way, is a wonderful mystery to keep unravelling16).

如果這種事在我身上重演一次，我愿意想像自己二話不說就把包交給劫匪。但我卻無法預(yù)知事到臨頭時自己是否真的會這么做。我想，從某方面來說，這就是為什么我總是對人感到無盡的好奇，因為無論你問了多少個問題，無論你設(shè)想了多少種情節(jié)，沒有人能夠真正了解在另一個人的外表下會有怎樣真實的內(nèi)心。而這一點本身，就是一個引人不斷孜孜求解的奇妙而神秘的命題。

1. at odds：不和諧，不相稱

2. ward off：擋住;避開

3. makeshift [?me?k???ft] adj. 臨時代用的;暫時湊合的

4. knuckle-duster：指節(jié)銅環(huán)(一種套在指節(jié)上的打人武器)

5. tube [tju?b] n. [英] (倫敦等地的)地鐵

6. gouge [ɡa?d?] vt. 挖出，挖取

7. groin [ɡr??n] n. 腹股溝

8. savvy：參見48頁注釋3

9. clock [kl?k] vt. 注意;觀察

10. apprehension [?æpr??hen?(?)n] n. 憂懼，擔(dān)心

11. mug [m?ɡ] vt. 從背后襲擊并搶劫

12. lethal [?li?θl] adj. 危險的

13. chubby [?t??b?] adj. 圓胖的;圓臉的;豐滿的

14. at the ready：準備就緒

15. ringleader [?r???li?d?(r)] n. (違法活動中的)頭目，首惡

16. unravel [?n?ræv(?)l] v. 弄清;闡明;解決，解開