Only once during his very first few days did I get a sense that this willful but accommodating, laid-back, water-over-my-back, unflappable, unfazed twenty-four-year-old who was so heedlessly okay with so many things in life was, in fact, a thoroughly alert, cold, sagacious judge of character and situations. Nothing he did or said was unpremeditated. He saw through everybody, but he saw through them precisely because the first thing he looked for in people was the very thing he had seen in himself and may not have wished others to see. He was, as my mother was scandalized to learn one day, a supreme poker player who’d escape into town at night twice a week or so to “play a few hands.” This was why, to our complete surprise, he had insisted on opening a bank account on the very day of his arrival. None of our residents had ever had a local bank account. Most didn’t have a penny.
 
在他初來的那幾天，只有一次，我感覺到這個固執(zhí)卻樂與人方便，悠然自得、滿不在乎、沉著冷靜、泰然自若，并且對生活中這么多事都毫不介懷的二十四歲青年，實際上對他人性格和事態(tài)形勢有著十足敏銳、冷靜精明的判斷。他的言行無一不經(jīng)過算計。他看透每一個人，但他之所以能夠看透，正是因為他第一眼去尋找的就是他在自己身上見到而不愿意被別人窺見的部分。好比我母親有一天震驚地發(fā)現(xiàn)他原來是撲克高手，每周約有兩晚溜進城去“玩幾手”。完全出乎我們的意料，原來這就是他抵達當天就堅持要在銀行開戶的原因。我們的住客多半身無分文，從來沒人擁有本地銀行的戶頭。
 
It had happened during a lunch when my father had invited a journalist who had dabbled in philosophy in his youth and wanted to show that, though he had never written about Heraclitus, he could still spar on any matter under the sun. He and Oliver didn’t hit it off. Afterward, my father had said, “A very witty man—damn clever too.” “Do you really think so, Pro8?” Oliver interrupted, unaware that my father, while very easygoing himself, did not always like being contradicted, much less being called Pro, though he went along with both. “Yes, I do,” insisted my father. “Well, I’m not sure I agree at all. I find him arrogant, dull, flat-footed, and coarse. He uses humor and a lot of voice”—Oliver mimicked the man’s gravitas—“and broad gestures to nudge his audience because he is totally incapable of arguing a case. The voice thing is so over the top, Pro. People laugh at his humor not because he is funny but because he telegraphs his desire to be funny. His humor is nothing more than a way of winning over people he can’t persuade.
 
某天午餐時，父親邀請一名年少時對哲學(xué)頗有涉獵的記者，記者想證明雖然他從沒寫過關(guān)于赫拉克利特的文章，還是能就世界上的任何事與人辯論。這記者與奧利弗完全合不來。事后，父親說那記者“很機智，也很聰明”，奧利弗卻打斷問道：“您真的這么想嗎，教授？”奧利弗不了解我父親雖然性格隨和，卻未必喜歡別人反駁他的意見，更討厭別人稱他“教授”，即使他表面上對這兩件事往往不動聲色。“是，我是這么想。”父親對自己的見解頗為堅持，奧利弗卻模仿那記者正經(jīng)嚴肅的樣子說道：“我恐怕難以茍同。我認為他傲慢自大、沉悶無趣、遲鈍笨拙，又粗俗不堪。他看似幽默，利用很多聲音和夸張的動作來說服聽眾，因為他根本說不出一套道理。聲音這一點實在太過火了，教授。大家被他的幽默逗笑，不是因為他有趣，而是因為他無意間流露出他渴望別人覺得他有趣。他的幽默只不過是用來拉攏自己無法說服的對象的手段而已。
 

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