向錢鐘書學英文！私人英文書信語言點精講

My Dear Stuart,

We are overjoyed at your generously long letter(1). We have been rather worried about you since your reticent Xmas card from Spain. We thought that your indignation(2) at the Fascist terrors might have made you join the Spanish Republican army on leaving Oxford. In that case, the world would certainly gain a hero, but we might (O horrible thought!) lose a friend. You can imagine our relief to hear from you again.

We are very, very sorry indeed to hear about your viva. We do hope that it will not be prejudicial to your chances of getting a job. As your favorite Walter Raleigh used to say, Oxford final schools and the Last Judgement are two examinations, not one. You are quite right to take the whole thing lightly(3).

We shall be here for another four or five months yet(4). My scholarship expires this August, and we shall sail home in September. Not that we have homes to return to(5)! Our houses, spared by the shell-fire, have been looted and gutted of all their valuable contents. Our respective families have taken refuge in mountains honeycombed with bandits. My wife lost her mother, and I myself have no prospect whatsoever of getting decent jobs in China. Still, one's lot is with one's own people; I don't mind roughing it a bit. The revolution of the Fortune's wheel might bring us up(6), and, as Goethe was fond of saying, abwarten Sie. You see, I spare my own patriotic heroics.

Yes, my clairvoyant Stuart, I have been working entirely on my own. I have tried to read French literature systematically downwards, beginning with Villon, and already got as far as the mid-nineteenth century. I have also laboriously tackled the German romantics. I am reading Taine's novel Graindorge and Novalis's Fragmente. Besides, I have not neglected my English and Chinese studies. I am reading——no, I am not going to tell you my reading debauches. This paragraph reads already like a snippet from that model letter of a schoolboy to his parents ("or parent according to circumstances") in Anstey's Vice Versa.

The baby is burstingly fat(7). She already boasts of six teeth (each tooth meaing a week or so of worries and sleeplessness on her part as well our own). She is very naughty and mutinous and self-willed, altogether an ugly customer to deal with. She will be able to walk a little next month.

You are a disquieting feller(8), my dear Stuart. You always give me the impression of some impending catastrophe. Why this sudden "treachery" to your "former interests"? You seem to have a "gout trop facilement degoute". Your mind seems to slough its idea as frequently as the snakes their skins. No doubt you will call me smug and incorrigible. Do keep me abreast of your lastest developments(9).

My wife sends you her best wishes, to which I say ditto. Write to me at your earliest convenience.

Yours ever,

Chung-shu Tchi'ien

P.S. My wife wants me to tell you that the baby is really "her father's daughter". She loves nothing so much as books——to tear and nibble at, certainly not to read. She has already destroyed a German primer, not to mention innumberable tradesmen's circulars and booklets. She throws away her toys to grab at the books we happen to be reading.