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发表于 2008-9-23 17:15:02
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33.Randall Jarrell
to His Wife(Mackie Jarrell)
April5,1943
Darling:
You should see me sorting the mail at Ⅱ and 4;I stand in front of an enormous box with about twenty sub-divisions,and flip the letters in,just as if I were hitting a ping-pong backhand.The turnover of labor in the mail room is enormous;about half the ones who were working when I began have been shipped away,and I was glad tosee them go.The head of the mail room,a firstclass private,cares passionately about the mailroom and is always worrying and exhorting;he isvery stupid and rarely can understand anything thefirst time.All the replacements are dumb drivencattle,who don't talk at all compared to the oldgang,and that's a gift from God.
Some parts of the work are moderately pleasant;the names,a tenth of them,are queerbeyond belief.Then the places they're beingshipped to work on me powerfully,like the Christmas Store Window and the poor child.Andsome are very odd:the Sea Searcb Attack Group and the Prov.Engr.Airborne Regiment,Sedalia,Knobnoster,Mo.Ask me no questions for fear Ishould reply.One of the funniest forwarding addresses was Corporal So-and-so,Anti- Submarine Detachment,Exeter Apartments,Galveston.I suppose he sits on the roof of theapartment with field glasses and a rifle.
The best thing about the mail room is that it'srelatively off to itself and unmilitary.We're littlebothered by officers and non-commissioned officers,both of whom I'm growing to dislikemore and more.This is an illustrative incident:I got paid for the first time yesterday ——it wasobviously my first time.I was supposed to salutethe lieutenant sitting at the table and say,“Private Jarrell,Randall,sir.”I didn't know thatand left off the Private;the officer corrected mevery unpleasantly and acted as if I'd committed acrime.
Writing the addresses on the envelopes stirsmuch envy in me;Peabody College,Nashville,andothers to San Marcos and all sorts of charming colleges——lucky cadets!What funny names people have:they're a great pleasure to the postalemployee.I'm afraid that as long as I have this job,my letters will suffer.Letters about letters(andthe outside of letters at that)aren't a rewarding genre.
How I wish I could see Kitten drinking out of the bathtub.I was as surprised as if you'd told mehe'd taken to walking on the ceiling.
We had spareribs for lunch,and I was givensix——and the smallest was about eleven incheslong.There was so much bone I couldn't helpthinking of the boy's remark about education——to have gained so little and have gone through somuch;except I've forgotten how it went.
I think perhaps if I ever have time I can writesome good dreary poems about the army,and thewar;but they won't be printable while I'm in thearmy,and they won't be liked by anybody until the20's——when those return.
Even though my job is hard and long,it's stillwonderful not to have the rollcalls,the drill,theaimless waiting and waiting,and all the rest.
I'll write to Lambert Davis and ask himwhether Harcourt Brace minds my using“Orestes”and five or six poems for a New Directions anthology(they can reprint them in my secondbook with them).If they don't want me to presumably it'll only be because they want another of mine fairly soon.
My,what fun it'll be to think about articlesand poems and books and things after the war.Maybe I'll even get industrious,any industry willseem so mild compared to the wicked army.Andwhat a paradise of amusements Austin willseem——a perfect Coney Island.
I love you so much,darling,and miss you.I'llwrite you again tomorrow.You're my darling.Ilove you.
Your
Randall |
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