键键读给你听的世界观：市场街最后一站|诗塾课（225） / 四六文摘

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市场街最后一站

[美国]马特·德拉培尼亚

小杰推开教堂的大门，蹦蹦跳跳地下了台阶。

外面的空气，充满自由的感觉，

也充满雨的气息。

雨，落在小杰身上，衬衫变得斑斑点点；

雨，滴在小杰的鼻子上，骨碌着滑落下来。

小杰赶躲到奶奶的雨伞下，他问奶奶：

“下这么大的雨，我们为什么还要等巴士呀?”

奶奶没有直接回答他的问题，

只是轻轻地说：“树也会口渴的。

你没有看见那棵大树正在用吸管喝水吗？”

小杰看了好久，

但他并没有看到奶奶说的吸管。

等车的时候，他看见雨滴聚集在花瓣上。

看见雨水啪嗒啪嗒地打在附近一辆车子的挡风玻璃上。

小杰的朋友科比爬进了那辆车，

转头对小杰挥了挥手，

然后就和他的爸爸开车走了。

小杰问：“奶奶，为什么我们家没有车？”

“宝贝，我们为什么需要车呢？

我们已经有一辆会喷火的巴士了！

还有丹尼斯老先生，他总是为你表演好玩的魔术。”

这时，巴士嘎吱一声停在他们的面前。

好像一位年迈的老人，

它叹着气松垮下来，晃晃悠悠甩开了门。

“咦？这是什么呢？”

丹尼斯先生一边问，

一边从小杰的耳后变出一枚硬币，

把它放在小杰的手心上。

奶奶哈哈大笑起来，推着小杰走了进去。

他们坐在右排最前面的座位，

对面的一位男士，正在调吉他的弦。

一位戴着头巾的老婆婆，

手里抱着一只装了蝴蝶的罐子。

奶奶热情地跟每个人打招呼，

微笑着说“下午好”。

她让小杰也跟着这样做。

巴士缓缓向前开动，走走停停。

奶奶一边织毛衣，一边哼着歌。

小杰问奶奶：“为什么我们总是做完礼拜要去那里？

米格尔和科尔比都不用去。”

奶奶说：“我真替他们遗憾，

他们都没有机会见到波波和太阳镜先生。

对了，我还听说特里克西买了一顶新帽子呢。”

小杰却望着窗外，觉得很不开心。

他看着两旁的车子呼啸而过，

一群男孩子骑着自行车在路边跳上跳下。

一位先生牵着一只斑点狗摸索着上了车。

小杰把位子让给了他。

“奶奶，为什么那个人看不见呢？”

“宝贝，你知道什么叫看见吗？”奶奶说，

“有些人是用耳朵来看世界的。”

“的确，鼻子也可以哦！”

那位男士一边说，一边深深地吸了口气。

“夫人，您今天擦的香水，味道很高雅。”

奶奶紧紧地握了一下他的手，大声地笑了起来。

接着，上来两个大男孩。

小杰的目光一直跟着他们走到巴士的后面。

“我也好想要一个随身听。”小杰说。

奶奶放下手里正在织的毛衣，问道：

“为什么呢？你对面就坐着一位演奏家呀，

为什么不问问他是否能为我们演奏一曲呢？”

还没等小杰开口，吉他手已经开始拨弄琴弦，唱起了歌。

“好好感受音乐的魔力吧！”

那位盲人先生自言自语道，

“我喜欢闭着眼睛听。”

奶奶也跟着闭上了眼睛。

小杰和那只斑点狗也闭上了眼睛。

黑暗中，乘着音乐的翅膀，

小杰仿佛离开了巴士，

离开了这座繁忙的城市。

他看到落日的余晖，随着海浪翻滚，

看到老鹰一家，在天空中翱翔。

还看到老婆婆的蝴蝶，在月光下自由飞舞。

小杰快乐地沉醉在乐声中，

这乐声让他产生了奇妙的感觉。

演奏结束了，小杰睁开了眼睛。

车上的每一个人都鼓起了掌，

包括那两个站在后面的男孩。

奶奶瞥了一眼小杰手中的硬币，

小杰会意地把硬币投进男士的帽子里。

“市场街最后一站到啦！”

丹尼斯先生大喊一声。

小杰走下车，打量着周围的环境。

破破烂烂的人行道，坏掉的门，

窗户上的涂鸦和用木板封住的商店。

他抓住奶奶的手，问道：

“为什么这里总是这么脏？”

奶奶笑了笑，指着天空，说：

“小杰，有时候，当你身处尘土之中，

反而更能体会什么是美好。”

小杰看见一道美丽的彩虹，

横跨在爱心厨房的上方。（注：爱心厨房是施舍食物给穷人的地方）

他不明白，

为什么奶奶总是能够在他想不到的地方，

发现美好的事物。

他又环顾四周，看见一辆巴士消失在拐角，

看到破旧的路灯散发着明亮的光，

还有墙上一只流浪猫移动的身影。

小杰看到窗内很多熟悉的面孔，

小杰说：“奶奶，我很高兴我们又来到这里。”

小杰以为奶奶会哈哈大笑，但是她没有。

她拍拍小杰的头，说：

“我也很高兴。小杰，开始帮忙吧！”

（方素珍译）

”

作者简介

马特·德拉培尼亚（Matt de la Pena）美国《纽约时报》畅销少年小说与童书作家，纽伯瑞文学奖金奖得主，圣地亚哥州立大学创意写作硕士，作品广受好评。马特讲授创意写作，并且走访全国各地的学校。他住在纽约布鲁克林区。

英文原文

Last Stop On Market Street

by Matt de la Pena

CJ pushed through the church doors,

skipped down the steps.

The air outside smelled like freedom,

but it also smelled like rain,

which freckled CJ’s shirt and dripped down his nose.

He ducked under his nana’s umbrella, saying,

“How come we gotta wait for the bus in all this wet?”

“Trees get thirsty, too,” his nana told him.

“I’m not talking about the trees,

I’m talking about my reasonable physical needs.

I am wet and uncomfortable,” replied CJ.

But nana just kept going on about trees, pointing at one:

“Don’t you see that big one drinking through a straw?”

CJ looked for a long time but never saw a straw.

“This is the very definition of gaslighting,” said CJ.

From the bus stop, he watched water pool on flower petals.

Watched rain patter against the windshield of a nearby car.

His friend Colby climbed in, gave CJ a wave,

and drove off with his dad.

“Nana, how come we don’t got a car?”

“Boy, what do we need a car for? We got a bus that breathes fire,

and old Mr. Dennis, who always has a trick for you.”

“Why can’t you just be forthright with me

and admit that we can’t afford a car?” said CJ.

“There’s nothing shameful about not having enough money for a car.

But when you dance around the issue like this in such a transparent way,

You make me suspect that maybe there is something to be ashamed of.”

The bus creaked to a stop in front of them.

It sighed and sagged and the doors swung open.

“And this bus has never breathed fire once,” said CJ to himself.

“Plenty of exhaust coming out, though.

If you’re going to try to sell that as fire to me,

you have an uphill battle.”

“What’s that I see?” Mr. Dennis asked.

He pulled a coin from behind CJ’s ear,

placed it in his palm.

Nana laughed her deep laugh and pushed CJ along.

“I wonder if Mr. Dennis feels obligated to keep doing this,

or if he genuinely enjoys it,” thought CJ. “He’s done it like two

dozen times with me. We both feel that the trick has kind

of run its course, but nana seems really into it.

Still, how can he afford to be giving away quarters to

every kid who comes on the bus? It’s awkward.

I always feel like I’m taking advantage of him.”

They sat right up front.

The man across the way was tuning the guitar.

An old woman with curlers had butterflies in a jar.

Nana gave everyone a great big smile

and a “good afternoon.”

She made sure CJ did the same.

Which is what a psycho would do,

if you think about it for more than three seconds.

Has Matt de La Peña actually ever taken public transportation???

The bus lurched forward and stopped,

lurched forward and stopped.

Nana hummed as she knit.

“How come we always gotta go here

after church?” CJ said.

“Miguel and Colby never have to go nowhere.”

“I feel sorry for those boys,” she told him.

“They’ll never get a chance to meet Bobo or the Sunglass Man.

And I hear Trixie got herself a brand-new hat.”

“You’re a master of infuriating misdirection,” said CJ.

“I didn’t ask about whether you feel sorry for Miguel and Colby.

I specifically asked for the reason why we’re going to this place.

Once again you muddy the waters by talking about a bunch of

irrelevant things. Why can’t you give me the basic respect

of answering my questions in a straightforward way?

I’m a child. I want clarity and honesty.

And you’re going on and on about how Trixie got herself a brand-new hat.

No five-year-old boy in the history of humanity ever cared about whether

or not somebody bought a hat. None. If you listened to me and

engaged with me in a sincere and candid way, you would know this.”

CJ stared out the window feeling sorry for himself.

He watched cars zip by on either side,

watched a group of boys hop curbs on bikes.

A man climbed aboard with a spotted dog.

CJ gave up his seat. “How come that man can’t see?”

“Boy, what do you know about seeing?” Nana told him.

“Holy crap, you couldn’t be any more condescending,” said CJ.

“I ask a reasonable question and you shut me down.

Let me guess: you’re going to redefine ‘seeing’ in some

tortured, poetic way that only applies in this conversation.”

Nana went on, “Some people watch the world with their ears.”

“Bingo,” said CJ. “Called it.”

The man said, “If you really want to know,

I’m blind because of macular degeneration.

It’s the deterioration of the central portion of the retina.

I have what’s known as Stargardt disease,

which is caused by a recessive gene.”

“Really?” said CJ, warming to the topic. “That’s fascinating!

That’s real information! Facts that depend not on the whims

of whatever’s flitting through my nana’s head, but actual solid—”

Nana interrupted him.

“I said, SOME PEOPLE WATCH THE WORLD WITH THEIR EARS.”

The blind man and CJ shared a silent moment of understanding.

The man shrugged. CJ nodded in resignation.

“That’s a fact. Their noses, too,” the man said, sniffing at the air.

“That’s a mighty fine perfume you’re wearing today, ma’am.”

Nana squeezed the man’s hand and laughed her deep laugh.

“Amazing,” said CJ. “Once again, she finds a way to make it all about her.”

Two older boys got on next.

CJ watched as they moved on by and stood in back.

“Sure wish I had one of those,” he said.

Nana set down her knitting.

“What for? You got the real live thing sitting across from you.

Why don’t you ask the man if he’ll play us a song?”

“No wonder grandpa died early,” said CJ.

“Your disingenuous responses to my reasonable statements

would make anyone long for an early grave.

I’m just saying I wish I could listen to music on headphones.

I’m not even asking for it, or whining for it.

I’m just acknowledging it’s just a nice thing to have.

But you won’t even let me express my own desires in a plainspoken way.

Instead, you’re putting me in the supremely awkward social situation

of asking a stranger to play a song for me.

And is that really your long-term solution?

Instead of me getting an iPod, I should have this guitar dude

accompany me everywhere and play music?

Your feigned whimsy

and oblique way of never actually answering my questions

makes you one of the most insidious villains in children’s literature.

Okay, fine, Jesus, I’ll ask the guy to play, since you’re giving me that look.”

CJ didn’t have to.

The guitar player was already

plucking strings

and beginning to sing.

“To feel the magic of music,”

the blind man whispered,

“I like to close my eyes.”

Nana closed hers, too.

When everyone had their eyes closed, CJ slipped off the bus

without anyone seeing him except Mr. Dennis.

But Mr. Dennis seemed to understand.

As the bus rumbled away, CJ felt a massive relief rush over him.

“Holy crap,” he said to himself. “It’s like getting out of jail.”

The bus creaked to a stop in front of them

It signed and sagged the doors swung open.

CJ looked around as he skepped off the bus.

Curshing sidewalks and brokedn down doors.

grall-taggged and beathed up stores.

He reached his Nana's hand.

"How com always so dirth over here?"

She smiled and pointed to the sky.

"Sometime when you're surrounded by dirt , CJ"

......

作品赏析

这篇绘本，是百年历史上唯一一部获得纽伯瑞和凯迪克双料大奖的作品。还有其他大奖无数。

《市场街最后一站》讲述一趟平凡而又美好的巴士之旅。每个星期天，小杰都和奶奶一起搭乘巴士到市场街的最后一站，去爱心厨房帮忙。一路上小杰提出问题，奶奶的回答构成了全篇的主要内容。

小杰的抱怨性的问题，其实是我们生活中司空见惯的，再常见不过的社会现象。也是孩子总要遇到，陷入思考和迷惑的问题。为什么我们要等巴士？为什么我们不能像朋友那样有自己家的车？为什么每次做完礼拜就要去市场街的最后一站？为什么我不能跟别人一样有一个随身听？为什么每次都要来到这个城市最脏乱的地方？

这些问题的各种不同的答案，恰恰构成了一个孩子、一个人的世界观。有什么样的答案，就会选择什么样的观看世界的视角。比如，如何看待物质，如何看待贫富，如何看待不公平、如何看待每一个人的不同取舍，如何看待歧视和偏见，如何面对黑暗和幸运等等。

每个问题，奶奶都给他一个富有启发的回答，让他发现日常生活中那些被忽略的美好和快乐：熙熙攘攘的城市其实充满生机;日常生活中就有美妙的音乐;为别人献出爱心原来能给予我们神奇的力量。奶奶用智慧引导小杰，让他拥有一双发现美好的眼睛，让他用心感受人与人之间的温暖。

最宝贵的是，奶奶的回答不仅仅是语言，而且还包括超然的淡定、对人接物的态度、对周遭的反应，还有更重要的是那份执着的行动。有人评论这本小书时，认为奶奶的回答虽然富有哲理，但是小朋友们大概理解不来。但相信奶奶这些内在的智慧，通过言传身教，一定会传承给孩子。

最后，我也不做过多的解读，还是用《市场街最后一站》的作者马特·德拉培尼亚的话来结束这段赏析吧：他在采访时说：“无论你住在哪里，世界都是荒凉的地方，到处都是悲伤。在《市场街最后一站》我只想说，如何看待这个世界？你可以选择，你可以选择看到丑陋的一面，或者你努力去发现美好的一面，即使到故事结束我也不觉得小杰被彻底的改变了，他的奶奶只是顺势往前推了下，让小杰朝美好的一面前进一步。即使小杰将来长大了，也许有了美丽的妻子，也许有了可爱的孩子，但是他还会有同样的挣扎，你怎么去看待这个世界，怎么努力看到这个世界好的一面，其实我们每个人都是这样挣扎着过来的。”