geeky芒果街上的小屋 英文

2021年1月20日发(作者：bastard)
Chapter 1 Hairs


Everybody in our family has different hair. My Papa's hair is like a broom, all up in
the air. And me, my hair is lazy. It never obeys barrettes or bands. Carlos' hair is thick
and straight. He doesn't need to comb it. Nenny's hair is slippery
——
slides out of your
hand. And Kiki, who is the youngest, has hair like fur.


But my mother's hair, my mother's hair, like little rosettes, like little candy circles all
curly and pretty
because
she pinned it in pincurls all
day, sweet to put your nose
into
when
she
is
holding
you,
holding
you
and
you
feel
safe,
is
the
warm
smell
of
bread
before you bake it, is the smell when she makes room for you on her side of the bed still
warm with her skin, and you sleep near her, the rain outside falling and Papa snoring.
The snoring, the rain, and Mama's hair that smells like bread.


Chapter 2 Darius & The Clouds


You can never have too much sky. You can fall asleep and wake up drunk on sky,
and sky can keep you safe when you are sad. Here there is too much sadness and not
enough sky. Butterflies too are few and so are flowers and most things that are beautiful.
Still, we take what we can get and make the best of it.


Darius, who doesn't like school, who is sometimes stupid and mostly a fool, said
something wise today, though most days he says nothing. Darius, who chases girls with
firecrackers or a stick that touched a rat and thinks he's tough, today pointed up because
the world was full of clouds, the kind like pillows.


You all see that cloud, that fat one there? Darius said, See that? Where? That one
next
to
the
one
that
look
like
popcorn.
That
one
there.
See
that.
That's
God,
Darius
? somebody little asked. God, he said, and made it simple.


Chapter 3 Four Skinny Trees


They are the only ones who understand
me. I am the only one who understands
them. Four skinny trees with skinny necks and pointy elbows like mine. Four who do not
belong here but are here. Four raggedy excuses planted by the city. From our room we
can hear them, but Nenny just sleeps and doesn't appreciate these things.


Their strength is secret. They send ferocious roots beneath the ground. They grow
up and they grow down and grab the earth between their hairy toes and bite the sky with
violent teeth and never quit their anger. This is how they keep. Let one forget his reason
for being, they'd all droop like tulips in a glass, each with their arms around the other.
Keep, keep, keep, trees say when I sleep. They teach.


When I am too sad and too skinny to keep keeping, when I am a tiny thing against
so many bricks, then it is I look at trees. When there is nothing left to look at on this
street. Four who grew despite concrete. Four who reach and do not forget to reach. Four
whose only reason is to be and be.


Chapter 4 Cathy Queen of Cats


Cathy who is queen of cats has cats and cats and cats. Baby cats, big cats, skinny
cats, sick cats. Cats asleep like little donuts. Cats on top of the refrigerator. Cats taking a
walk on the dinner table. Her house is like cat heaven.


You want a friend, she says. Okay, I'll be your friend. But only till next Tuesday.
That's when we move away. Got to. Then as if she forgot I just moved in, she says the
neighborhood is getting bad.


Cathy's
father
will
have
to
fly
to
France
one
day
and
find
her
great
great
distant
grand cousin on her father's side and inherit the family house. How do I know this is so?
She
told
me
so.
In
the
meantime
they'll
just
have
to
move
a
little
farther
north
from
Mango Street, a little farther away every time people like us keep moving in.


Chapter 5 A house of my own


Not a flat. Not an apartment in back. Not a man's house. Not a daddy's. A house all
my own. With my porch and my pillow, my pretty purple petunias. My books and my
stories.
My
two
shoes
waiting
beside
the
bed.
Nobody
to
shake
a
stick
at.
Nobody's
garbage to pick up after.

Only a house quiet as snow, a space for myself to go, clean
as paper before the poem.


Chapter 7 The House on Mango Street 1


We didn't always live on Mango Street. Before that we lived on Loomis on the third
floor, and before that we lived on Keeler. Before Keeler it was Paulina, and before that I
can't remember. But what I remember most is moving a lot. Each time it seemed there'd
be one more of us. By the time we got to Mango Street we were six
——

Mama, Papa,
Carlos, Kiki, my sister Nenny and me.

The house on Mango Street is ours, and we
don't have to pay rent to anybody, or share the yard with the people down stairs, or be
careful not to make too much noise, and there isn't a landlord banging on the ceiling with
a broom. But even so, it's not the house we'd thought we'd get.

We had to leave the
flat on Loomis quick. The water pipes broke and the landlord wouldn't fix them because
the house was too old. We had to leave fast. We were using the washroom next door and
carrying
water
over
in
empty
milk
gallons.
That's
why
Mama
and
Papa
looked
for
a
house, and that's why we moved into the house on Mango Street, far away, on the other
side of town.














Chapter 8 The House on Mango Street 2


They always told us that one day we would move into a house, a real that would be
ours
for
always
so
we
wouldn't
have
to
move
each
year.
And
our
house
would
have
running water and pipes that worked. And inside it would have real stairs, not hallway
stairs, but stairs inside like the house on we'd have a basement and at least three
washrooms
so
when
we
took
a
bath
we
wouldn't
have
to
tell
everybody.
Our
house
would be white with trees around it, a great big yard and grass growing without a fence.
This
was
the
house
Papa
talked
about
when
he
held
a
lottery
ticket
and
this
was
the
house mama dreamed up in the stories she told us before we went to bed.















Chapter 9 The House on Mango Street 3


But the house on Mango Street is not the way they told it at all. It's small and red
with tight steps in front and windows so small you'd think they were holding their breath.
Bricks are crumbling in places, and the front door is so swollen you have to push hard to
get in. There is no front yard, only four little elms the city planted by the curb. Our back
is a small garage for the car we don't own yet and a small yard that looks smaller between
the
two
buildings
on
either
side.
There
are
stairs
in
our
house,
but
they're
ordinary
hallway
stairs,
and
the
house
has
only
one
washroom.
Everybody
has
to
share
a
bedroom
—
Mama and Papa, Carlos and Kiki, me and Nenny.















Chapter 10 The House on Mango Street 4


Once when we were living on Loomis, a nun from my school passed by and saw me
playing out front. The Laundromat downstairs had been boarded up because it had been
robbed two days before and the owner had painted on the wood YES WE'RE OPEN so
as not lose business.


Where do you live? She asked.


There, I said pointing up to the third floor.


You live there?


There. I had to look to where she pointed
–——

the third floor, the paint peeling,
wooden bars Papa had nailed on the windows so we wouldn't fall out. You live there?
The way she said it made me feel like nothing. There. I lived there. I nodded.


I knew then I had to have to house. A real house. One I could point to .but this
isn't it. The house on Mango Street isn't it. For the time being, Mama says. Temporary,
says Papa. But I know how those things go.















Chapter 11 The boys and girls 1


The boys and the girls live in separate world. The boys in their universe and we in
ours. My brothers for example. They've got plenty to say to me and Nenny inside the
house. But outside they can't be seen talking
to girls.
Carlos and Kiki are each
other's
best friend…not ours.



Nenny is too young to be my friend. She's just my sister and that was not my fault.
You don't pick your sisters, you just get them and sometimes they come like Nenny.













Chapter 12 The boys and girls 2


She can't play with those Vargas kids or she'll turn our just like them. And since she
comes right after me, she is my responsibility.


Someday I will have a best friend all my own. One I can tell my secrets to. One who
will
understand
my
jokes
without
my
having
to
explain
them.
Until
then
I
am
a
red
balloon, a balloon tied to an anchor.














Chapter 13 My name 1


In English my name means hope. In Spanish it means too many letters. It means
sadness, it means waiting. It is like the number nine. A muddy color. It is the Mexican
records my father plays on Sunday mornings when he is shaving, songs like sobbing.


It was my great-grandmother's name and now it is mine. She was a horse woman
too,
born
like
me
in
the
Chinese
year
of
horse
—
which
is
supposed
to
be
bad
luck
if
you're
born
female
—
but
I
think
this
is
a
Chinese
lie
because
the
Chinese,
like
the
Mexicans, don't like their women strong.


My
great-grandmother.
I
would've
liked
to
have
known
her,
a
wild
horse
of
a
woman, so wild she wouldn't
marry.
Until
my
great-grandfather threw a sack over her
head and carried her off. Just that, as if she were a fancy chandelier. That's the way he did
it.















Chapter 14 My name 2


And the story goes she never forgave him. She looked out the window her whole
life, the way so many women sit their sadness on an elbow. I wonder if she made the best
with what she got or was she dory because she couldn`t be all the things she wanted to
be. Esperanza. I have inherited her name, but I don't want to inherit her place by the
window.


At school they say my name funny as if the syllables were made out of tin and hurt
the roof of your mouth. But in Spanish my name is made out of a softer something, like
silver,
not
quite
as
thick
as
sister`s
name
—
Magdalena
——

which
is
uglier
than
mine.
Magdalena who at least can come home and become Nenny. But I am always Esperanza.


I would like to baptize myself under a new name, a name more like the real me, the
one nobody see. Esperanza as Lasiandra or Maritza or Zeze the . something like
Zeze the X will do.















Chapter 15 Cathy Queen of Cats 1


She
says,
I
am
the
great
great
grand
cousin
of
the
queen
of
France.
She
lives
upstairs, over there, next door to Joe the baby-grabber. Keep away from him, she says.
He is full of danger. Benny and Blanca own the corner store. They're okay except don't
lean on the candy counter. Two girls raggedy as rats live across the street. You don't want
to know them. Edna is the lady who owns the building next to you. She used to own a
building big as a whale, but her brother sold it. Their mother said no, no, don't ever sell it.
I won't. And then she closed her eyes and he sold it. Alicia is stuck-up ever since she
went to college. She used to like me but now she doesn't.


Cathy who is queen of cats has cats and cats and cats. Baby cats, big cats, skinny
cats, sick cats. Cats asleep like little donuts. Cats on top of the refrigerator. Cats taking a
walk on the dinner table. Her house is like cat heaven.














Chapter 16 Cathy Queen of Cats 2


You want a friend, she says. Okay, I'll be your friend. But only till next Tuesday.
That's when we move away. Got to. Then as if she forgot I just moved in, she says the
neighborhood is getting bad.


Cathy's
father
will
have
to
fly
to
France
one
day
and
find
her
great
great
distant
grand cousin on her father's side and inherit the family house. How do I know this is so?
She
told
me
so.
In
the
meantime
they'll
just
have
to
move
a
little
farther
north
from
Mango Street, a little farther away every time people like us keep moving in.















Chapter 17 Our good days 1


If you give me five dollars I will be your friend forever. That's what the little one
tells me.


Five dollars is cheap since I don't have any friends except Cathy who is only
my
friend till Tuesday.


Five dollars, five dollars.


She is trying to get some body to chip in so they can buy a bicycle form this kid
named Tito. They already have ten dollars and all they need is five more.


Don't talk to them, says Cathy. Can't you see they smell like a broom.


But I like them. Their clothes are crooked and old. They are wearing shiny Sunday
shoes without socks. It makes their bald ankles all red, but I like them. Especially the big
one who laughs with all her teeth. I like her even though she lets the little one do all the
talking.


Five dollars, the little one says, only five.















Chapter 18 Our good days 2


Cathy is tugging my arm and I know whatever I do next will make her mad forever.


Wait a minute, I say, and run inside to get the five dollars I have three dollars saved
and I take two of Nenny's. She's not home, but I'm sure she'll be glad when she finds out
we own a bike. When I get back, Cathy is gone like I knew she would be , but I don't
care. I have two new friends and a bike too.


My name is Lucy, the big one says. This here is Rachel my sister.


I'm her sister, says Rachel. Who are you?


And I wish my name was Cassandra or Alexis or Maritza
—
anything but Esperanza
—
but when I tell them my name they don't laugh.















Chapter 19 Our good days 3


We come from Texas, Lucy says and grins. Her was born here, but me I'm Texas.


You mean she, I says.


No, I'm from Texas, and doesn't get it.


This bike is three ways ours, says Rachel who is thinking ahead already. Mine today,
Lucy's tomorrow and yours day after.


But everybody wants to ride it today because the bike is new, so we decide to take
turns after tomorrow. Today is belongs to all of us.















Chapter 20 Our good days 4


But everybody wants to ride it today because the bike is new, so we decide to take
turns after tomorrow. Today it belongs to all of us.


I don't tell them about Nenny just yet. It's too complicated. Especially since Rachel
almost put out Lucy's eye about who was going to get to ride it first. But finally we agree
to ride it together. Why not?


Because Lucy has long legs she pedals. I sit on the back seat and Rachel is skinny
enough to get up on the handlebars which makes the bike all wobble as if the wheels are
spaghetti, but after a bit you get used to it.















Chapter 21 Our good days 5


We ride fast and faster. Past my house, sad and red and crumbly in places, past Mr.
Benny's grocery on the corner, and down the avenue which is dangerous. Laundoromat,
junk store, drugstore, windows and cars and more cars , and around the block back to
Mango.


People on the bus wave. A very fat lady crossing the street says. You sure got quite
a load there.


Rachel shouts. You got quite a load there too. She is very sassy.


Down, down Mango Street we go. Rachel, Lucy, me. Our new bicycle. Laughing the
crooked ride back.















Chapter 22 Laughter


Nenny and I don't look like sisters
…
not right away. Not the way you can tell with
Rachel and Lucy who have the same fat popsicle lips everybody else in their family. But
me and Nenny, we are more alike than you would know. Our laughter for example. Not
the
shy
ice
cream
bells'
giggle
of
Rachel
and
Lucy's'
family,
but
all
of
a
sudden
and
surprise like a pile of dishes breaking. And other things I can't explain.


One day we were passing a house that looked, in my mind, like house I had seen in
Mexico. I don't know why. There was nothing about the house that looked exactly like
the house I remembered. I'm not even sure why I thought it, but it seemed to feel right.


Look at the house, I said, it looks like Mexico.


Rachel
and
Lucy
look
at
me
like
I'm
crazy,
but
before
they
can
let
out
a
laugh,
Nenny says: Yes, that's Mexico all right. That's what I was thinking exactly.















Chapter 24 Meme Ortiz


Around the back is a yard, mostly dirt,and a greasy bunch of boards that used to be
a
garage.
but
what
you
families
of
squirrels
in
the
higher
branches.
All
around,
the
nighborhood
of
roofs,
black-tarred
and
A-framed,
and
in
their
gutters,
the
balls
that
never came back down to earth. Down at the base of the tree, the dog with two names
barks
into
the
empty
air,
and
there
at
the
end
of
the
block,
looking
smaller
still,
our
house with its feet tucked under like a cat.


This is the tree we chose for the First Annual Tarzan Jumping Contest. Meme won.
And borke both arms.













Chapter 25 Louie,His Cousin&His Other Cousin


Louie's girl cousin is older than us. She lives with Louie's family because her own
family
is
in
Puerto
Rico.
Her
name
is
Marin
or
Maris
or
something
like
that,
and
she
wears dark nylons all the time and lots of makeup she gets free from selling Avon. She
can't come out _gotta baby-sit with Louie's sisters- but she stands in the doorway a lot,
all the time singing, clicking her fingers, the same song:


Apples, peaches, pumpkin pah-ay


You're in love and so am ah-ay


Louie's has another cousin. We only saw him once, but it was important. We were
playing
volleyball
in
the
alley
when
he
drove
up
in
this
great
big
yellow
Cadillac
whitewalls and a yellow scarf tied around the mirror. Louie's cousin has his arm out the
window. He honked a couple of times and a lot of faces looked out from Louie's back
window and then a lot of people came out
—
Louie, Marin and all the little sisters.













Chapter 26 Marin


We never see Marin until her aunt comes home from work, and even then she can
only stay out in front. She is there every night with the radio. When the light in her aunt's
room goes out, Marin lights a cigarette and it doesn't matter if it's cold out or if the radio
doesn't work or if we've got nothing to say to each other. What matters, Marin says, is
for the boys to see us and for us to see them. And since Marin's skirts are shorter and
since her eyes are pretty, and since Marin is already older than us in many ways, the boys
who do pass by say stupid things like I am in love with those two green apples you call
eyes,
give
them
to
me
why
don't
you.
And
Marin
just
looks
at
them
without
even
blinking and is no afraid.


Marin, under the streetlight, dancing by herself, is singing the same song somewhere.
I know. Is waiting for a car to stop, a star to fall, someone to change her life.














Chapter 27 There was an old woman she had so many


The kids bend trees and bounce between cars and dangle upside down from knees
and almost break like fancy museum vases you can't replace. They think it's funny. They
are without respect for all things living, including themselves.


But after a wile you get tired of being worried about kids who aren't even yours.
One day they are playing chicken on Mr. Benny's roof . Mr. Benny says, Hey ain't you
kids know better than to be swinging up there? Come down, you come down right now,
and then they just spit.














Chapter 28 Alicia who sees mice


Alicia,
whose
mama
died,
is
sorry
there
is
no
one
older
to
rise
and
make
the
lunchbox tortillas. Alicia, who inherited her mama's rolling pin and sleepiness, is young
and smart and studies for the first time at the university. Two trains and a bus, because