Ýëåêòðîííàÿ áèáëèîòåêà
Ôîðóì - Çäîðîâûé îáðàç æèçíè
Àêóïóíêòóðà, Àþðâåäà Àðîìàòåðàïèÿ è ýôèðíûå ìàñëà,
Êîíñóëüòàöèè ñïåöèàëèñòîâ:
Ðýéêè; Ãîìåîïàòèÿ; Íàðîäíàÿ ìåäèöèíà; Éîãà; Ëåêàðñòâåííûå òðàâû; Íåòðàäèöèîííàÿ ìåäèöèíà; Äûõàòåëüíûå ïðàêòèêè; Ãîðîñêîï; Ïðàâèëüíîå ïèòàíèå Ýçîòåðèêà


Ìåòîä ÷òåíèÿ Èëüè Ôðàíêà

Êàæäûé òåêñò ðàçáèò íà íåáîëüøèå îòðûâêè. Ñíà÷àëà èäåò àäàïòèðîâàííûé îòðûâîê — òåêñò ñ âêðàïëåííûì â íåãî äîñëîâíûì ðóññêèì ïåðåâîäîì è íåáîëüøèì ëåêñè÷åñêèì êîììåíòàðèåì. Çàòåì ñëåäóåò òîò æå òåêñò, íî óæå íåàäàïòèðîâàííûé, áåç ïîäñêàçîê.

Òå, êòî òîëüêî íà÷àë îñâàèâàòü êàêîé-ëèáî ÿçûê, ñíà÷àëà ìîæåò ÷èòàòü òåêñò ñ ïîäñêàçêàìè, çàòåì — òîò æå òåêñò áåç ïîäñêàçîê. Åñëè ïðè ýòîì îí çàáûë çíà÷åíèå êàêîãî-ëèáî ñëîâà, íî â öåëîì âñå ïîíÿòíî, òî íåîáÿçàòåëüíî èñêàòü ýòî ñëîâî â îòðûâêå ñ ïîäñêàçêàìè. Îíî åùå âñòðåòèòñÿ — è íå ðàç. Ñìûñë íåàäàïòèðîâàííîãî òåêñòà êàê ðàç â òîì, ÷òî êàêîå-òî âðåìÿ — ïóñòü êîðîòêîå — ÷èòàþùèé íà ÷óæîì ÿçûêå «ïëûâåò áåç äîñêè». Ïîñëå òîãî, êàê îí ïðî÷èòàåò íåàäàïòèðîâàííûé òåêñò, íóæíî ÷èòàòü ñëåäóþùèé àäàïòèðîâàííûé. È òàê äàëåå. Âîçâðàùàòüñÿ íàçàä — ñ öåëüþ ïîâòîðåíèÿ — íå íóæíî. Ñëåäóåò ïðîñòî ïðîäîëæàòü ÷èòàòü äàëüøå.

Êîíå÷íî, ñíà÷àëà íà âàñ õëûíåò ïîòîê íåèçâåñòíûõ ñëîâ è ôîðì. Ýòîãî íå íóæíî áîÿòüñÿ: íèêòî íèêîãî ïî íèì íå ýêçàìåíóåò. Ïî ìåðå ÷òåíèÿ (ïóñòü ýòî ïðîèçîéäåò õîòü â ñåðåäèíå èëè äàæå â êîíöå êíèãè) âñå «óòðÿñåòñÿ», è âû áóäåòå, ïîæàëóé, óäèâëÿòüñÿ: «Íó çà÷åì îïÿòü äàåòñÿ ïåðåâîä, çà÷åì îïÿòü ïðèâîäèòñÿ èñõîäíàÿ ôîðìà ñëîâà, âñå âåäü è òàê ïîíÿòíî!» Êîãäà íàñòóïàåò òàêîé ìîìåíò, «êîãäà è òàê ïîíÿòíî», ñòîèò óæå ÷èòàòü íàîáîðîò: ñíà÷àëà íåàäàïòèðîâàííóþ ÷àñòü, à ïîòîì çàãëÿäûâàòü â àäàïòèðîâàííóþ. (Ýòîò æå ñïîñîá ÷òåíèÿ ìîæíî ðåêîìåíäîâàòü è òåì, êòî îñâàèâàåò ÿçûê íå ñ íóëÿ.)


ßçûê ïî ñâîåé ïðèðîäå — ñðåäñòâî, à íå öåëü, ïîýòîìó îí ëó÷øå âñåãî óñâàèâàåòñÿ íå òîãäà, êîãäà åãî ñïåöèàëüíî ó÷àò, à êîãäà èì åñòåñòâåííî ïîëüçóþòñÿ — ëèáî â æèâîì îáùåíèè, ëèáî ïîãðóçèâøèñü â çàíèìàòåëüíîå ÷òåíèå. Òîãäà îí ó÷èòñÿ ñàì ñîáîé, ïîäñïóäíî.

Íàøà ïàìÿòü òåñíî ñâÿçàíà ñ òåì, ÷òî ìû ÷óâñòâóåì â êàêîé-ëèáî êîíêðåòíûé ìîìåíò, çàâèñèò îò íàøåãî âíóòðåííåãî ñîñòîÿíèÿ, îò òîãî, íàñêîëüêî ìû «ðàçáóæåíû» ñåé÷àñ (à íå îò òîãî, íàïðèìåð, ñêîëüêî ðàç ìû ïîâòîðèì êàêóþ-íèáóäü ôðàçó èëè ñêîëüêî âûïîëíèì óïðàæíåíèé).

Äëÿ çàïîìèíàíèÿ íóæíà íå ñîííàÿ, ìåõàíè÷åñêàÿ çóáðåæêà èëè âûðàáàòûâàíèå êàêèõ-òî íàâûêîâ, à íîâèçíà âïå÷àòëåíèé. ×åì íåñêîëüêî ðàç ïîâòîðèòü ñëîâî, ëó÷øå ïîâñòðå÷àòü åãî â ðàçíûõ ñî÷åòàíèÿõ è â ðàçíûõ ñìûñëîâûõ êîíòåêñòàõ. Îñíîâíàÿ ìàññà îáùåóïîòðåáèòåëüíîé ëåêñèêè ïðè òîì ÷òåíèè, êîòîðîå âàì ïðåäëàãàåòñÿ, çàïîìèíàåòñÿ áåç çóáðåæêè, åñòåñòâåííî — çà ñ÷åò ïîâòîðÿåìîñòè ñëîâ. Ïîýòîìó, ïðî÷èòàâ òåêñò, íå íóæíî ñòàðàòüñÿ çàó÷èòü ñëîâà èç íåãî. «Ïîêà íå óñâîþ, íå ïîéäó äàëüøå» — ýòîò ïðèíöèï çäåñü íå ïîäõîäèò. ×åì èíòåíñèâíåå ÷åëîâåê áóäåò ÷èòàòü, ÷åì áûñòðåå áåæàòü âïåðåä — òåì ëó÷øå.  äàííîì ñëó÷àå, êàê íè ñòðàííî, ÷åì ïîâåðõíîñòíåå, ÷åì ðàññëàáëåííåå, òåì ëó÷øå. È òîãäà îáúåì ìàòåðèàëà äåëàåò ñâîå äåëî, êîëè÷åñòâî ïåðåõîäèò â êà÷åñòâî. Òàêèì îáðàçîì, âñå, ÷òî òðåáóåòñÿ îò ÷èòàòåëÿ, — ýòî ïðîñòî ïî÷èòûâàòü, äóìàÿ íå îá èíîñòðàííîì ÿçûêå, êîòîðûé ïî êàêèì-ëèáî ïðè÷èíàì ïðèõîäèòñÿ ó÷èòü, à î ñîäåðæàíèè êíèãè.

Åñëè âû äåéñòâèòåëüíî áóäåòå ÷èòàòü èíòåíñèâíî, òî ìåòîä ñðàáîòàåò. Ãëàâíàÿ áåäà âñåõ èçó÷àþùèõ äîëãèå ãîäû îäèí êàêîé-ëèáî ÿçûê â òîì, ÷òî îíè çàíèìàþòñÿ èì ïîíåìíîæêó, à íå ïîãðóæàþòñÿ ñ ãîëîâîé. ßçûê — íå ìàòåìàòèêà, åãî íàäî íå ó÷èòü, ê íåìó íàäî ïðèâûêàòü. Çäåñü äåëî íå â ëîãèêå è íå â ïàìÿòè, à â íàâûêå. Îí ñêîðåå ïîõîæ â ýòîì ñìûñëå íà ñïîðò, êîòîðûì íóæíî çàíèìàòüñÿ â îïðåäåëåííîì ðåæèìå, òàê êàê â ïðîòèâíîì ñëó÷àå íå áóäåò ðåçóëüòàòà. Åñëè ñðàçó è ìíîãî ÷èòàòü, òî ñâîáîäíîå ÷òåíèå íà íîâîì ÿçûêå — âîïðîñ òðåõ-÷åòûðåõ ìåñÿöåâ (íà÷èíàÿ «ñ íóëÿ»). À åñëè ó÷èòü ïîìàëåíüêó, òî ýòî òîëüêî ñåáÿ ìó÷èòü è áóêñîâàòü íà ìåñòå. ßçûê â ýòîì ñìûñëå ïîõîæ íà ëåäÿíóþ ãîðêó — íà íåå íàäî áûñòðî âçáåæàòü. Ïîêà íå âçáåæèòå — áóäåòå ñêàòûâàòüñÿ. Åñëè äîñòèãàåòñÿ òàêîé ìîìåíò, ÷òî ÷åëîâåê ñâîáîäíî ÷èòàåò, òî îí óæå íå ïîòåðÿåò ýòîò íàâûê è íå çàáóäåò ëåêñèêó, äàæå åñëè âîçîáíîâèò ÷òåíèå íà ýòîì ÿçûêå ëèøü ÷åðåç íåñêîëüêî ëåò. À åñëè íå äîó÷èë — òîãäà âñå âûâåòðèòñÿ.

À ÷òî äåëàòü ñ ãðàììàòèêîé? Ñîáñòâåííî äëÿ ïîíèìàíèÿ òåêñòà, ñíàáæåííîãî òàêèìè ïîäñêàçêàìè, çíàíèå ãðàììàòèêè óæå íå íóæíî — è òàê âñå áóäåò ïîíÿòíî. À çàòåì ïðîèñõîäèò ïðèâûêàíèå ê îïðåäåëåííûì ôîðìàì — è ãðàììàòèêà óñâàèâàåòñÿ òîæå ïîäñïóäíî. Ýòî ïîõîæå íà òî, êàê îñâàèâàþò æå ÿçûê ëþäè, êîòîðûå íèêîãäà íå ó÷èëè åãî ãðàììàòèêè, à ïðîñòî ïîïàëè â ñîîòâåòñòâóþùóþ ÿçûêîâóþ ñðåäó. ß ãîâîðþ ýòî íå ê òîìó, ÷òîáû âû äåðæàëèñü ïîäàëüøå îò ãðàììàòèêè (ãðàììàòèêà — î÷åíü èíòåðåñíàÿ è ïîëåçíàÿ âåùü), à ê òîìó, ÷òî ïðèñòóïàòü ê ÷òåíèþ ïîäîáíîé êíèãè ìîæíî è áåç îñîáûõ ãðàììàòè÷åñêèõ ïîçíàíèé, äîñòàòî÷íî ñàìûõ ýëåìåíòàðíûõ. Äàííîå ÷òåíèå ìîæíî ðåêîìåíäîâàòü óæå íà ñàìîì íà÷àëüíîì ýòàïå.

Òàêèå êíèãè ïîìîãóò âàì ïðåîäîëåòü âàæíûé áàðüåð: âû íàáåðåòå ëåêñèêó è ïðèâûêíåòå ê ëîãèêå ÿçûêà, ñýêîíîìèâ ìíîãî âðåìåíè è ñèë.


Èëüÿ Ôðàíê, frank@franklang.ru

Ernest Hemingway. The Killers

The door of Henry’s lunch-room opened (äâåðü çàêóñî÷íîé Ãåíðè îòâîðèëàñü) and two men came in (è äâîå ìóæ÷èí âîøëè /âíóòðü/). They sat down at the counter (îíè ñåëè ó ñòîéêè).

“What’s yours (÷òî äëÿ âàñ, ÷òî áóäåòå áðàòü: «÷òî âàøå»)?” George asked them (ñïðîñèë èõ).

“I don’t know (ÿ íå çíàþ),” one of the men said (ñêàçàë îäèí èç ìóæ÷èí). “What do you want to eat (÷òî òû õî÷åøü ñúåñòü), Al?”

“I don’t know,” said All. “I don’t know what I want to eat.”

Outside it was getting dark (íà óëèöå: «ñíàðóæè» òåìíåëî: «ñòàíîâèëîñü òåìíî»). The street-light came on outside the window (óëè÷íûé ôîíàðü çàæåãñÿ çà îêíîì; light — ñâåò; to come on — ïîÿâèòüñÿ /íà ñöåíå/, âîçíèêíóòü). The two men at the counter read the menu (÷èòàëè ìåíþ). From the other end of the counter (ñ äðóãîãî êîíöà ñòîéêè) Nick Adams watched them (ãëÿäåë íà íèõ). He had been talking to George (îí ðàçãîâàðèâàë ñ Äæîðäæåì) when they came in (êîãäà îíè âîøëè).


The door of Henry’s lunch-room opened and two men came in. They sat down at the counter.

“What’s yours?” George asked them.

“I don’t know,” one of the men said. “What do you want to eat, Al?”

“I don’t know,” said All. “I don’t know what I want to eat.”

Outside it was getting dark. The street-light came on outside the window. The two men at the counter read the menu. From the other end of the counter Nick Adams watched them. He had been talking to George when they came in.


counter [kaunt@] menu ['menju:]


“I’ll have a roast pork tenderloin (ÿ âîçüìó æàðåíîå ñâèíîå ôèëå: tenderloin — ôèëå, âûðåçêà: tender — íåæíûé, ìÿãêèé + loin — ïîÿñíèöà; ôèëåéíàÿ ÷àñòü) with apple sauce (ñ ÿáëî÷íûì ñîóñîì) and mashed potatoes (è êàðòîôåëüíûì ïþðå; to mash — ðàçäàâëèâàòü, ðàçìèíàòü),” the first man said (ñêàçàë ïåðâûé ìóæ÷èíà).

“It isn’t ready yet (îíî åùå íå ãîòîâî).”

“What the hell (êàêîãî ÷åðòà: «àäà») do you put it on the card for (òû ïîìåùàåøü, ñòàâèøü ýòî â ìåíþ)?”

“That’s the dinner (ýòî îáåä),” George explained (îáúÿñíèë). “You can get that at six o’clock (òû ìîæåøü ïîëó÷èòü ýòî â øåñòü ÷àñîâ).”

George looked at the clock on the wall behind the counter (ïîñìîòðåë íà ÷àñû íà ñòåíå çà ñòîéêîé).

“It’s five o’clock (/ñåé÷àñ/ ïÿòü ÷àñîâ).”

“The clock says twenty minutes past five (÷àñû ïîêàçûâàþò: «ãîâîðÿò» äâàäöàòü ìèíóò ïîñëå ïÿòè = äâàäöàòü ìèíóò øåñòîãî),” the second man said (ñêàçàë âòîðîé ìóæ÷èíà).

“It’s twenty minutes fast (îíè ñïåøàò íà äâàäöàòü ìèíóò; fast — áûñòðûé).”

“Oh, to hell with the clock,” the first man said. “What have you got to eat (÷òî ó òåáÿ åñòü ïîåñòü)?”

“I can give you any kind of sandwiches (ìîãó äàòü âàì ðàçíûå ñàíäâè÷è: «ëþáîé âèä ñàíäâè÷à»),” George said. “You can have ham and eggs (ñâèíèíó è ÿéöà = ñàíäâè÷ ñ âåò÷èíîé è ÿè÷íèöåé), bacon (áýêîí, êîï÷åíóþ ñâèíóþ ãðóäèíêó) and eggs, liver (ïå÷åíêó) and bacon, or a steak (èëè áèôøòåêñ).”


“I’ll have a roast pork tenderloin with apple sauce and mashed potatoes,” the first man said.

“It isn’t ready yet.”

“What the hell do you put it on the card for?”

“That’s the dinner,” George explained. “You can get that at six o’clock.”

George looked at the clock on the wall behind the counter.

“It’s five o’clock.”

“The clock says twenty minutes past five,” the second man said.

“It’s twenty minutes fast.”

“Oh, to hell with the clock,” the first man said. “What have you got to eat?”

“I can give you any kind of sandwiches,” George said. “You can have ham and eggs, bacon and eggs, liver and bacon, or a steak.”


sauce [sO:s] potato [p@'teIt@u] liver [lIv@]


“Give me chicken croquettes (äàé ìíå êóðèíûå êðîêåòû) with green peas (ñ çåëåíûì ãîðîøêîì) and cream sauce (ïîä áåëûì: «ñëèâî÷íûì» ñîóñîì) and mashed potatoes.”

“That’s the dinner.”

“Everything we want’s the dinner (âñå, ÷òî ìû õîòèì — îáåä), eh? That’s the way you work it (òàê: «òàêèì ïóòåì» òû ýòî äåëàåøü: «ñðàáàòûâàåøü, óñòðàèâàåøü» = íó è ïîðÿäêè).”

“I can give you ham and eggs, bacon and eggs, liver — ”

“I’ll take ham and eggs (ÿ âîçüìó ÿè÷íèöó ñ âåò÷èíîé),” the man called Al said. He wore a derby hat (íà íåì áûë: «îí íîñèë» êîòåëîê) and a black overcoat (è ÷åðíîå ïàëüòî) buttoned across the chest (çàñòåãíóòîå íàãëóõî: «÷åðåç ãðóäü»; button — ïóãîâèöà). His face was small and white (åãî ëèöî áûëî ìàëåíüêèì è áåëûì) and he had tight lips (è ó íåãî áûëè ñæàòûå ãóáû; tight — ïëîòíûé, òóãîé). He wore a silk muffler (øåëêîâîå êàøíå; to muffle — çàêóòûâàòü, óêóòûâàòü; ãëóøèòü /çâóê/) and gloves (è ïåð÷àòêè).

“Give me bacon and eggs,” said the other man (ñêàçàë äðóãîé ìóæ÷èíà). He was about the same size as Al (îí áûë ïðèìåðíî òîãî æå ðîñòà: «ðàçìåðà», ÷òî è Ýë). Their faces were different (ëèöà áûëè ðàçëè÷íû), but they were dressed like twins (íî îíè áûëè îäåòû, êàê áëèçíåöû). Both wore overcoats too tight for them (ñëèøêîì óçêèå äëÿ íèõ). They sat leaning forward (íàêëîíèâøèñü âïåðåä), their elbows on the counter (èõ ëîêòè íà ñòîéêå).


“Give me chicken croquettes with green peas and cream sauce and mashed potatoes.”

“That’s the dinner.”

“Everything we want’s the dinner, eh? That’s the way you work it.”

“I can give you ham and eggs, bacon and eggs, liver — ”

“I’ll take ham and eggs,” the man called Al said. He wore a derby hat and a black overcoat buttoned across the chest. His face was small and white and he had tight lips. He wore a silk muffler and gloves.

“Give me bacon and eggs,” said the other man. He was about the same size as Al. Their faces were different, but they were dressed like twins. Both wore overcoats too tight for them. They sat leaning forward, their elbows on the counter.


croquettes [krO'ket] button [bVtn] glove [glVv]


“Got anything to drink (åñòü ÷òî-íèáóäü âûïèòü)?” Al asked.

“Silver beer («ñåðåáðÿíîå ïèâî» — ñîðò ïèâà), bevo (ìîðñ, íàïèòîê /èòàëüÿíñêîå ñëîâî/), ginger-ale (èìáèðíîå ïèâî),” George said.

“I mean (ÿ èìåþ â âèäó) you got anything to drink?”

“Just those I said (òîëüêî òî, ÷òî ÿ ñêàçàë).”

“This is a hot town (âåñåëûé ãîðîäîê, íó è ãîðîäîê: «ýòî æàðêèé ãîðîäîê»),” said the other. “What do they call it (êàê îí òàì íàçûâàåòñÿ: «êàê îíè åãî íàçûâàþò»)?”

“Summit (ïîñåëîê ê þãî-çàïàäó îò ×èêàãî).”

“Ever hear of it (êîãäà-íèáóäü ñëûøàë î íåì)?” Al asked his friend (ñïðîñèë ñâîåãî äðóãà).

“No,” said the friend.

“What do you do here nights (÷òî âû çäåñü äåëàåòå ïî âå÷åðàì)?” Al asked.

“They eat the dinner,” his friend said. “They all come here and eat the big dinner (îíè âñå ïðèõîäÿò ñþäà è åäÿò áîëüøîé îáåä).”

“That’s right (ýòî òàê, âåðíî),” George said.

“So you think that’s right (òàê òû äóìàåøü, ñ÷èòàåøü, ÷òî ýòî ïðàâèëüíî)?” Al asked George.

“Sure (êîíå÷íî).”

“You’re a pretty bright boy (î÷åíü óìíûé: «ñâåòëûé» ïàðåíü; pretty — êðàñèâûé, ñèìïàòè÷íûé; äîâîëüíî, âåñüìà), aren’t you (íå ïðàâäà ëè: «íå åñòü ëè òû»)?”

“Sure,” said George.

“Well, you’re not (íó, òàê âîò, òû âîâñå íå óìíûé ïàðåíü),” said the other little man (äðóãîé ìàëåíüêèé ÷åëîâåê). “Is he (óìíûé ëè îí), Al?”

“He’s dumb (òóïîé: «íåìîé»),” said Al. He turned to Nick (ïîâåðíóëñÿ ê Íèêó). “What’s your name (êàê òåáÿ çîâóò: «êàêîâî òâîå èìÿ»)?”

“Adams.”

“Another bright boy (äðóãîé = åùå îäèí óìíèê),” Al said. “Ain’t he a bright boy, Max (/íó/ íå óìíèê ëè îí; ain't = isn't; aren't)?”

“The town’s full of bright boys (ãîðîä ïîëîí óìíèêîâ),” Max said.


“Got anything to drink?” Al asked.

“Silver beer, bevo, ginger-ale,” George said.

“I mean you got anything to drink?”

“Just those I said.”

“This is a hot town,” said the other. “What do they call it?”

“Summit.”

“Ever hear of it?” Al asked his friend.

“No,” said the friend.

“What do you do here nights?” Al asked.

“They eat the dinner,” his friend said. “They all come here and eat the big dinner.”

“That’s right,” George said.

“So you think that’s right?” Al asked George.

“Sure.”

“You’re a pretty bright boy, aren’t you?”

“Sure,” said George.

“Well, you’re not,” said the other little man. “Is he, Al?”

“He’s dumb,” said Al. He turned to Nick. “What’s your name?”

“Adams.”

“Another bright boy,” Al said. “Ain’t he a bright boy, Max?”

“The town’s full of bright boys,” Max said.


dumb [dVm] pretty [prItI]


George put the two platters (ïîñòàâèë äâå òàðåëêè), one of ham and eggs, the other of bacon and eggs, on the counter. He set down two side-dishes of fried potatoes (ïîñòàâèë äâå ïîðöèè æàðåíîãî êàðòîôåëÿ; siede-dish — áîêîâîå = ñîïðîâîæäàþùåå áëþäî — áëþäî ñ ãàðíèðîì) and closed the wicket into the kitchen (è çàêðûë îêîøå÷êî â êóõíþ; wicket — êàëèòêà; çàäâèæíîå îêîøêî).

“Which is yours?” he asked Al.

“Don’t you remember (òû íå ïîìíèøü)?”

“Ham and eggs.”

“Just a bright boy (ïðîñòî óìíèöà, íó ðàçâå íå óìíèê),” Max said. He leaned forward and took the ham and eggs (è âçÿë âåò÷èíó ñ ÿè÷íèöåé). Both men ate with their gloves on (îáà åëè ñ íàäåòûìè ïåð÷àòêàìè). George watched them eat (ñìîòðåë, íàáëþäàë, êàê îíè åäÿò).

“What are you looking at (íà ÷òî òû /òàê/ ñìîòðèøü)?” Max looked at George.

“Nothing (íè íà ÷òî: «/íà/ íè÷òî»).”

“The hell you were (êàê æå, ðàññêàçûâàé, ÷åðòà-ñ-äâà òû íå ñìîòðèøü). You were looking at me (íà ìåíÿ).”

“Maybe the boy meant it for a joke (ìîæåò áûòü, ïàðåíü ïîøóòèë: «èìåë â âèäó ýòî, âûñêàçàë ýòî ìíåíèå äëÿ øóòêè = êàê øóòêó»), Max,” Al said.

George laughed (çàñìåÿëñÿ).

You don’t have to laugh (íå÷åãî ñìåÿòüñÿ: «òåáå íå íàäî ñìåÿòüñÿ»),” Max said to him. “You don’t have to laugh at all (âîâñå), see (ïîíÿë: «âèäèøü»)?”

“All right,” said George.

“So he thinks it’s all right (èòàê, îí ïîëàãàåò, ÷òî ýòî â ïîðÿäêå, ïðàâèëüíî).” Max turned to Al. He thinks it’s all right. That’s a good one (õîðîø îí).”

“Oh, he’s a thinker (ìûñëèòåëü),” Al said. They went on eating (ïðîäîëæàëè åñòü).


George put the two platters, one of ham and eggs, the other of bacon and eggs, on the counter. He set down two side-dishes of fried potatoes and closed the wicket into the kitchen.

“Which is yours?” he asked Al.

“Don’t you remember?”

“Ham and eggs.”

“Just a bright boy,” Max said. He leaned forward and took the ham and eggs. Both men ate with their gloves on. George watched them eat.

“What are you looking at?” Max looked at George.

“Nothing.”

“The hell you were. You were looking at me.”

“Maybe the boy meant it for a joke, Max,” Al said.

George laughed.

You don’t have to laugh,” Max said to him. “You don’t have to laugh at all, see?”

“All right,” said George.

“So he thinks it’s all right.” Max turned to Al. He thinks it’s all right. That’s a good one.”

“Oh, he’s a thinker,” Al said. They went on eating.


meant [ment] laugh [lA:f]


“What’s the bright boy’s name down the counter (êàê çîâóò òîãî óìíèêà, ÷òî ñ äðóãîé ñòîðîíû ñòîéêè)?” Al asked Max.

“Hey, bright boy,” Max said to Nick. “You go around on the other side of the counter (çàéäè çà ñòîéêó: «èäè âîêðóã íà äðóãóþ ñòîðîíó ñòîéêè») with your boy friend (ñ òâîèì äðóæêîì = òóäà, ãäå òâîé äðóæîê).”

“What’s the idea (à â ÷åì äåëî, çà÷åì ýòî: «÷òî çà èäåÿ, â ÷åì èäåÿ»)?” Nick asked.

“There isn’t any idea (òóò íåò íèêàêîé èäåè = ïðîñòî òàê, äà íè â ÷åì).”

“You better go around (ëó÷øå çàéäè), bright boy,” Al said. Nick went around behind the counter (çà ñòîéêó).

“What’s the idea?” George asked.

“None of your damn business (íå òâîå ÷åðòîâî: «ïðîêëÿòîå» äåëî; none — íè÷òî, íè îäèí, íèêàêîé),” Al said. “Who’s out in the kitchen (êòî òàì: «ñíàðóæè» íà êóõíå)?”

“The nigger (íåãð).”

“What do you mean the nigger?”

“The nigger that cooks (êîòîðûé ãîòîâèò, ñòðÿïàåò).”

“Tell him to come in (ñêàæè åìó, ÷òîáû çàøåë).”

“What’s the idea?”

“Tell him to come in.”

“Where do you think you are (ãäå, âû äóìàåòå, âû íàõîäèòåñü)?”

“We know damn well where we are (ìû çíàåì ÷åðòîâñêè õîðîøî, ãäå ìû íàõîäèìñÿ),” the man called Max said (ñêàçàë ÷åëîâåê, êîòîðîãî çâàëè Ìàêñ). “Do we look silly (ìû âûãëÿäèì äóðà÷êàìè, ãëóïî)?”

“You talk silly (òû ðàçãîâàðèâàåøü ãëóïî),” Al said to him. “What the hell do you argue with this kid for (êàêîãî ÷åðòà òû ñïîðèøü ñ ýòèì ðåáåíêîì)? Listen (ïîñëóøàé),” he said to George, “tell the nigger to come out here.”

“What are you going to do to him (÷òî âû ñîáèðàåòåñü ñ íèì: «åìó» ñäåëàòü)?”

“Nothing. Use your head (ïîøåâåëè ìîçãàìè: «èñïîëüçóé ñâîþ ãîëîâó»), bright boy. What would we do to a nigger (÷òî áû ìû ñäåëàëè íåãðó)?”

George opened the slit (îòêðûë îêîøå÷êî; slit — äëèííûé ðàçðåç, ùåëü; to slit — ðàçðåçàòü â äëèíó) that opened back into the kitchen (êîòîðîå îòêðûâàëîñü íàçàä = âîâíóòðü â êóõíþ). “Sam,” he called. “Come in here a minute (çàéäè-êà ñþäà íà ìèíóòêó).”


“What’s the bright boy’s name down the counter?” Al asked Max.

“Hey, bright boy,” Max said to Nick. “You go around on the other side of the counter with your boy friend.”

“What’s the idea?” Nick asked.

“There isn’t any idea.”

“You better go around, bright boy,” Al said. Nick went around behind the counter.

“What’s the idea?” George asked.

“None of your damn business,” Al said. “Who’s out in the kitchen?”

“The nigger.”

“What do you mean the nigger?”

“The nigger that cooks.”

“Tell him to come in.”

“What’s the idea?”

“Tell him to come in.”

“Where do you think you are?”

“We know damn well where we are,” the man called Max said. “Do we look silly?”

“You talk silly,” Al said to him. “What the hell do you argue with this kid for? Listen,” he said to George, “tell the nigger to come out here.”

“What are you going to do to him?”

“Nothing. Use your head, bright boy. What would we do to a nigger?”

George opened the slit that opened back into the kitchen. “Sam,” he called. “Come in here a minute.”


idea [aI'dI@] argue ['A:gju:] minute ['mInIt]


The door to the kitchen opened and the nigger came in. “What was it (â ÷åì äåëî: «÷òî ýòî áûëî»)?” he asked. The two men at the counter took a look at him (îãëÿäåëè åãî: «âçÿëè âçãëÿä»).

“All right (âñå â ïîðÿäêå), nigger. You stand right there (ñòàíü òóò),” Al said.

Sam, the nigger, standing in his apron (ñòîÿ â ñâîåì ôàðòóêå), looked at the two men sitting at the counter. “Yes, sir,” he said. Al got down from his stool (ñëåç ñî ñâîåãî ñòóëà, òàáóðåòà).

“I’m going back to the kitchen (ÿ ïîéäó íàçàä = òóäà íà êóõíþ) with the nigger and bright boy,” he said. “Go on back to the kitchen, nigger. You go with him, Bright boy.” The little man walked after Nick and Sam (ïðîøåë âñëåä çà Íèêîì è Ñýìîì), the cook (ïîâàðîì), back into the kitchen. The door shut after them (äâåðü çà íèìè çàêðûëàñü). The man called Max sat at the counter opposite George (íàïðîòèâ Äæîðäæà). He didn’t look at George (îí íå ñìîòðåë íà Äæîðäæà) but looked in the mirror (à ñìîòðåë â çåðêàëî) that ran along back of the counter (êîòîðîå òÿíóëîñü: «áåæàëî» âäîëü çà ñòîéêîé). Henry’s had been made over (çàâåäåíèå Ãåíðè áûëî ïåðåäåëàíî) from a saloon into a lunch-counter (èç ñàëóíà, áàðà â çàêóñî÷íóþ).


The door to the kitchen opened and the nigger came in. “What was it?” he asked. The two men at the counter took a look at him.

“All right, nigger. You stand right there,” Al said.

Sam, the nigger, standing in his apron, looked at the two men sitting at the counter. “Yes, sir,” he said. Al got down from his stool.

“I’m going back to the kitchen with the nigger and bright boy,” he said. “Go on back to the kitchen, nigger. You go with him, Bright boy.” The little man walked after Nick and Sam, the cook, back into the kitchen. The door shut after them. The man called Max sat at the counter opposite George. He didn’t look at George but looked in the mirror that ran along back of the counter. Henry’s had been made over from a saloon into a lunch-counter.


apron ['eIpr@n] opposite ['Op@zIt]


“Well, bright boy,” Max said, looking into the mirror, “why don’t you say something (ïî÷åìó òû íå ñêàæåøü ÷òî-íèáóäü)?”

“What’s it all about (÷òî âñå ýòî çíà÷èò: «î ÷åì âñå ýòî»)?”

“Hey, Al,” Max called, “bright boy wants to know (õî÷åò çíàòü) what’s all about.”

“Why don’t you tell him (÷òî æå òû åìó íå ñêàæåøü)?” Al’s voice came from the kitchen (îòîçâàëñÿ ãîëîñ Ýëà èç êóõíè).

“What do you think it’s all about?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you think?”

Max looked into the mirror all the time he was talking (âñå âðåìÿ, ïîêà ãîâîðèë).

“I wouldn’t say (ÿ áû íå ñêàçàë, íå ñêàæó, ïîæàëóé, íå çíàþ).”

“Hey, Al, bright boy says he wouldn’t what he thinks it’s all about.”

“I can hear you, all right (ÿ ìîãó ñëûøàòü òåáÿ, â ïîðÿäêå, õîðîøî = íå êðè÷è, ÿ è òàê ñëûøó),” Al said from the kitchen. He had propped open the slit (îí ïîäïåð, ÷òîáû îñòàâàëîñü îòêðûòûì, îêîøå÷êî, îòâåðñòèå: «ùåëü») that dishes passed through into the kitchen (÷åðåç êîòîðîå ïåðåäàâàëèñü áëþäà íà êóõíþ) with a catsup bottle (áóòûëêîé êåò÷óïà). “Listen, bright boy,” he said from the kitchen to George. “Stand a little further (ñòàíü íåìíîãî äàëüøå) along the bar (âäîëü áàðà). You move a little to the left (ïîäâèíüñÿ íåìíîãî íàëåâî), Max.” He was like a photographer arranging for a group picture (îí áûë òî÷íî ôîòîãðàô, ðàññòàâëÿþùèé /ëþäåé/ äëÿ ãðóïïîâîé ôîòîãðàôèè).


“Well, bright boy,” Max said, looking into the mirror, “why don’t you say something?”

“What’s it all about?”

“Hey, Al,” Max called, “bright boy wants to know what’s all about.”

“Why don’t you tell him?” Al’s voice came from the kitchen.

“What do you think it’s all about?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you think?”

Max looked into the mirror all the time he was talking.

“I wouldn’t say.”

“Hey, Al, bright boy says he wouldn’t what he thinks it’s all about.”

“I can hear you, all right,” Al said from the kitchen. He had propped open the slit that dishes passed through into the kitchen with a catsup bottle. “Listen, bright boy,” he said from the kitchen to George. “Stand a little further along the bar. You move a little to the left, Max.” He was like a photographer arranging for a group picture.


move [mu:v] arrange [@'reIndZ] picture [pIktS@]


“Talk to me (ïîãîâîðè ñî ìíîé, ïîáåñåäóåì), bright boy,” Max said. “What do you think’s going to happen (÷òî, êàê òû äóìàåøü, ñåé÷àñ ïðîèçîéäåò)?”

George did not say anything (íå ñêàçàë íè÷åãî).

“I’ll tell you (ÿ ñêàæó òåáå),” Max said. “We’re going to kill a Swede (ìû ñåé÷àñ óáüåì øâåäà, ìû ñîáèðàåìñÿ óáèòü øâåäà). Do you know a big Swede named Ole Andreson (òû çíàåøü áîëüøîãî = çäîðîâîãî, äëèííîãî øâåäà ïî èìåíè Îëå Àíäðåñîí)?”

“Yes.”

“He comes here to eat every night, don’t he (îí ïðèõîäèò ñþäà ïîåñòü êàæäûé âå÷åð, íå òàê ëè)?”

“Sometimes he comes here (èíîãäà îí ñþäà ïðèõîäèò).”

“He comes here at six o’clock, don’t he?”

“If he comes (åñëè ïðèõîäèò).”

“We know all that (ìû âñå ýòî çíàåì), bright boy,” Max said.

“Talk about something else (ïîãîâîðèì î ÷åì-íèáóäü äðóãîì). Ever go to the movies (êîãäà-íèáóäü õîäèøü â êèíî)?”

“Once in a while (èçðåäêà: «èíîãäà â ïðîìåæóòîê âðåìåíè»).”

“You ought to go to the movies more (òû äîëæåí áû õîäèòü â êèíî áîëüøå = ÷àùå). The movies are fine (ïðåêðàñíî, îòëè÷íî) for a bright boy like you.”

“What are you going to kill Ole Andreson for (çà ÷òî, äëÿ ÷åãî âû õîòèòå óáèòü Îëå Àíäðåñîíà)? What did he ever do to you (÷òî îí âàì òàêîãî: «êîãäà-ëèáî» ñäåëàë)?”

“He never had a chance to do anything to us (ó íåãî íèêîãäà íå áûëî âîçìîæíîñòè ñäåëàòü ÷òî-íèáóäü íàì). He never even seen us (îí äàæå íèêîãäà íå âèäåë íàñ).”

“And he’s only going to see us once (è îí óâèäèò íàñ òîëüêî îäíàæäû),” Al said from the kitchen.

“What are you going to kill him for, then (òîãäà)?” George asked.

“We’re killing him for a friend (äëÿ äðóãà). Just to oblige a friend (ïðîñòî, âñåãî ëèøü, ÷òîáû óñëóæèòü, ñäåëàòü ïðèÿòíîå äðóãó), bright boy.”

“Shut up (çàòêíèñü),” said Al from the kitchen. You talk too goddam much (òû ãîâîðèøü ñëèøêîì ÷åðòîâñêè ìíîãî).”

“Well, I got to keep bright boy amused (íó, ìíå æå íàäî, ÿ æå äîëæåí ðàçâëåêàòü óìíèêà: «ñîõðàíÿòü, äåðæàòü åãî ðàçâëåêàåìûì»). Don’t I, bright boy?”

“You talk too damn much,” Al said. “The nigger and my bright boy are amused by themselves (ñàìè ðàçâëåêàþòñÿ). I got them tied up (ÿ èõ ñâÿçàë) like a couple of girl friends in the convent (êàê ïàðî÷êó ïîäðóæåê â ìîíàñòûðå, â ìîíàñòûðñêîé øêîëå).”

“I suppose you were in a convent (çíà÷èò, òû áûë â ìîíàñòûðå: «ÿ ïðåäïîëàãàþ, òû áûë â ìîíàñòûðå»)?”

“You never know (ìîæåò, è áûë: «íèêîãäà íå çíàåøü»).”

“You were in a kosher convent (òû áûë â êîøåðíîì ìîíàñòûðå /ò.å. â õåäåðå, â øêîëå ïðè ñèíàãîãå/). That’s where you were (âîò ãäå òû áûë).”


“Talk to me, bright boy,” Max said. “What do you think’s going to happen?”

George did not say anything.

“I’ll tell you,” Max said. “We’re going to kill a Swede. Do you know a big Swede named Ole Andreson?”

“Yes.”

“He comes here to eat every night, don’t he?”

“Sometimes he comes here.”

“He comes here at six o’clock, don’t he?”

“If he comes.”

“We know all that, bright boy,” Max said.

“Talk about something else. Ever go to the movies?”

“Once in a while.”

“You ought to go to the movies more. The movies are fine for a bright boy like you.”

“What are you going to kill Ole Andreson for? What did he ever do to you?”

“He never had a chance to do anything to us. He never even seen us.”

“And he’s only going to see us once,” Al said from the kitchen.

“What are you going to kill him for, then?” George asked.

“We’re killing him for a friend. Just to oblige a friend, bright boy.”

“Shut up,” said Al from the kitchen. You talk too goddam much.”

“Well, I got to keep bright boy amused. Don’t I, bright boy?”

“You talk too damn much,” Al said. “The nigger and my bright boy are amused by themselves. I got them tied up like a couple of girl friends in the convent.”

“I suppose you were in a convent?”

“You never know.”

“You were in a kosher convent. That’s where you were.”


Swede [swi:d] oblige [@'blaIdZ] convent ['kOnv@nt]


George looked up at the clock.

“If anybody comes in you tell them the cook is off (åñëè êòî-íèáóäü ïðèäåò, òû èì ñêàæåøü, ÷òî ïîâàð óøåë: «ñâîáîäåí /îò ðàáîòû/, íà ïåðåðûâå»; off — óêàçûâàåò íà óäàëåíèå èëè ïðåêðàùåíèå ÷åãî-ëèáî), and if they keep after it (à åñëè îíè áóäóò íàñòàèâàòü), you tell them you’ll go back (÷òî òû ïîéäåøü íà êóõíþ: «â çàäíþþ êîìíàòó») and cook yourself (è ïðèãîòîâèøü ñàì). Do you get that (òû ïîíÿë: «ïîëó÷èë» ýòî), bright boy?”

“All right,” George said. “What you going to do with us afterward (÷òî âû ñäåëàåòå ñ íàìè ïîñëå)?”

“That’s depend (ýòî çàâèñèò = ñìîòðÿ ïî îáñòîÿòåëüñòâàì),” Max said. “That’s one of those things you never know at the time (ýòî îäíà èç âåùåé, êîòîðûå íèêîãäà íå çíàåøü â äàííîå âðåìÿ = çàðàíåå)."

George looked up the clock. It was a quarter past six (÷åòâåðòü ïîñëå øåñòè = ÷åòâåðòü ñåäüìîãî). The door from the street opened (äâåðü ñ óëèöû îòêðûëàñü). A street-car motorman came in (âîøåë òðàìâàéíûé âîæàòûé).

“Hello, George,” he said. “Can I get supper (ïîóæèíàòü ìîæíî: «ìîãó ÿ ïîëó÷èòü óæèí»)?”

“Sam’s gone out (âûøåë),” George said. “He’ll be back in about half an hour (îí âåðíåòñÿ ïðèìåðíî ÷åðåç ïîë÷àñà).”

“I’d better go up the street (ÿ, ïîæàëóé, ëó÷øå ïîéäó ââåðõ ïî óëèöå = ïîéäó åùå êóäà-íèáóäü),” the motorman said. George looked at the clock. It was twenty minutes past six.

“That was nice (ýòî áûëî ñëàâíî /ïðîäåëàíî/), bright boy,” Max said. “You’re a regular little gentleman (íàñòîÿùèé ìàëåíüêèé äæåíòåëüìåí).”

“He knew I’d blow his head off (îí çíàë, ÷òî ÿ åìó ãîëîâó ñíåñó = ïðîñòðåëþ; to blow — äóòü),” Al said from the kitchen.

“No,” said Max. “It ain’t that (íå ïîýòîìó, íå â ýòîì äåëî). Bright boy is nice. He’s a nice boy. I like him (îí ìíå íðàâèòñÿ).”


George looked up at the clock.

“If anybody comes in you tell them the cook is off, and if they keep after it, you tell them you’ll go back and cook yourself. Do you get that, bright boy?”

“All right,” George said. “What you going to do with us afterward?”

“That’s depend,” Max said. “That’s one of those things you never know at the time."

George looked up the clock. It was a quarter past six. The door from the street opened. A street-car motorman came in.

“Hello, George,” he said. “Can I get supper?”

“Sam’s gone out,” George said. “He’ll be back in about half an hour.”

“I’d better go up the street,” the motorman said. George looked at the clock. It was twenty minutes past six.

“That was nice, bright boy,” Max said. “You’re a regular little gentleman.”

“He knew I’d blow his head off,” Al said from the kitchen.

“No,” said Max. “It ain’t that. Bright boy is nice. He’s a nice boy. I like him.”


depend [dI'pend] regular ['regjul@]


At six-fifty-five (â øåñòü /÷àñîâ/ ïÿòüäåñÿò ïÿòü) George said: “He’s not coming (îí íå ïðèäåò).”

Two other people had been in the lunch-room (äâîå äðóãèõ ëþäåé ïîáûâàëè â çàêóñî÷íîé). Once (îäèí ðàç) George had gone out to the kitchen and made a ham-and-egg sandwich “to go” (íà âûíîñ) that a man wanted to take with him (êîòîðûé ÷åëîâåê õîòåë âçÿòü ñ ñîáîé). Inside the kitchen he saw Al (âíóòðè êóõíè îí óâèäåë Ýëà), his derby hat tipped back (åãî êîòåëîê /áûë/ ñäâèíóò íàçàä; to tip — íàêëîíÿòü/ñÿ/; çàïðîêèäûâàòüñÿ), sitting on a stool beside the wicket (ñèäÿùèì íà òàáóðåòå âîçëå îêîøå÷êà) with the muzzle (ñ äóëîì; muzzle — ìîðäà; äóëî) of of a sawed-off shotgun (îòïèëåííîãî ðóæüÿ = îáðåçà) resting (ëåæàùèì, ïîêîÿùèìñÿ) on the ledge (íà ïëàíêå, êðàþ /îêîøå÷êà/). Nick and the cook were back in the corner (â óãëó), a towel tied in each of their mouths (ïîëîòåíöå, çàâÿçàííîå = çàòêíóòîå â êàæäîì èç èõ ðòîâ = âî ðòó ó êàæäîãî). George had cooked the sandwich, wrapped it up in oiled paper (çàâåðíóë åãî â ïåðãàìåíòíóþ áóìàãó; oil — ðàñòèòåëüíîå èëè ìèíåðàëüíîå ìàñëî; oiled — ïðîïèòàííûé ìàñëîì, ïðîìàñëåííûé), put it in a bag (ïîëîæèë åãî â ïàêåò), brought it in (âûíåñ èç êóõíè, çàíåñ â êîìíàòó), and the man had paid for it (çàïëàòèë çà íåãî) and gone out.

“Bright boy can do everything (âñå óìååò: «ìîæåò äåëàòü âñå»),” Max said. “He can cook and everything. You’d make some girl a nice wife (òû áû ñäåëàë êàêóþ-íèáóäü äåâóøêó ñëàâíîé æåíîé = ïîâåçëî òâîåé áóäóùåé æåíå), bright boy.”

“Yes?” George said. “Your friend (âàø äðóã), Ole Andreson, isn’t going to come (íå ïðèäåò).”

“We’ll give him ten minutes (ìû äàäèì åìó äåñÿòü ìèíóò),” Max said.

Max watched the mirror and the clock. The hands of the clock marked seven o’clock (ñòðåëêè ÷àñîâ ïîêàçàëè ñåìü), and then five minutes past seven (à çàòåì ïÿòü ìèíóò ïîñëå ñåìè = ïÿòü ìèíóò âîñüìîãî).


At six-fifty-five George said: “He’s not coming.”

Two other people had been in the lunch-room. Once George had gone out to the kitchen and made a ham-and-egg sandwich “to go” that a man wanted to take with him. Inside the kitchen he saw Al, his derby hat tipped back, sitting on a stool beside the wicket with the muzzle of of a sawed-off shotgun resting on the ledge. Nick and the cook were back in the corner, a towel tied in each of their mouths. George had cooked the sandwich, wrapped it up in oiled paper, put it in a bag, brought it in, and the man had paid for it and gone out.

“Bright boy can do everything,” Max said. “He can cook and everything. You’d make some girl a nice wife, bright boy.”

“Yes?” George said. “Your friend, Ole Andreson, isn’t going to come.”

“We’ll give him ten minutes,” Max said.

Max watched the mirror and the clock. The hands of the clock marked seven o’clock, and then five minutes past seven.


“Come on (äà ëàäíî, äàâàé), Al,” said Max. “We better go. He’s not coming.”

“Better give him five minutes,” Al said from the kitchen.

In the five minutes a man came in, and George explained that the cook was sick (îáúÿñíèë, ÷òî ïîâàð áîëåí).

“Why don’t you get another cook (ïî÷åìó æå âû íå âîçüìåòå äðóãîãî ïîâàðà)?” the man asked.

“Aren’t you running a lunch-counter (ðàçâå âû íå äåðæèòå çàêóñî÷íóþ)?” He went out.

“Come on, Al,” Max said.

“What about (à ÷òî íàñ÷åò, à êàê ñ) the two bright boys and the nigger?”

“The’re all right (ïóñòü èõ: «îíè â ïîðÿäêå, íîðìàëüíî»).”

“You think so (òû òàê ïîëàãàåøü)?”

“Sure. We’re through with it (çäåñü óæå âñå /çàêîí÷åíî/: «ìû /óæå/ ñêâîçü, ÷åðåç ýòî»).”

“I don’t like it (ìíå ýòî íå íðàâèòñÿ),” said Al. It’s sloppy (íå÷èñòàÿ ðàáîòà; slop — æèäêàÿ ãðÿçü; sloppy — ïîêðûòûé ëóæàìè; íåðÿøëèâûé, íåáðåæíûé). You talk too much (òû ñëèøêîì ìíîãî áîëòàåøü).”

“Oh, what the hell,” said Max. “We got to keep amused, haven’t we?”

“You talk too much, all the same (âñå ðàâíî),” Al said. He came out from the kitchen. The cut-off barrels of the shotgun (îáðåçàííûå ñòâîëû ðóæüÿ) made a slight bulge (äåëàëè ëåãêóþ âûïóêëîñòü) under the waist of his too tight-fitting overcoat (ïîä òàëèåé = íà áîêó åãî ñëèøêîì óçêîãî ïàëüòî). He straightened his coat (îí îäåðíóë ñâîå ïàëüòî) with his gloved hands.

“So long (ïðîùàé, ïîêà), bright boy,” he said to George. “You got a lot of luck (âåçåò òåáå: «èìååøü ìíîãî óäà÷è, áîëüøóþ óäà÷ó»).”

“That’s the truth (ýòî ïðàâäà),” Max said. You ought to play the races (òåáå íàäî áû èãðàòü íà ñêà÷êàõ), bright boy.”

The two of them went out the door. George watched them, through the window, pass under the arc-light (êàê îíè ïðîøëè ïîä /äóãîâûì/ ôîíàðåì; arc — /ýëåêòðè÷åñêàÿ/ äóãà) and cross the street (è ïåðåñåêëè óëèöó). In their tight overcoats and derby hats they looked like a vaudeville team (íà âîäåâèëüíóþ êîìàíäó, íà ýñòðàäíóþ ïàðó). George went back through the swinging-door (÷åðåç âðàùàþùóþñÿ, äâóñòâîð÷àòóþ, îòêðûâàþùóþñÿ â îáå ñòîðîíû äâåðü) into the kitchen and untied (ðàçâÿçàë) Nick and the cook.


“Come on, Al,” said Max. “We better go. He’s not coming.”

“Better give him five minutes,” Al said from the kitchen.

In the five minutes a man came in, and George explained that the cook was sick.

“Why don’t you get another cook?” the man asked.

“Aren’t you running a lunch-counter?” He went out.

“Come on, Al,” Max said.

“What about the two bright boys and the nigger?”

“The’re all right.”

“You think so?”

“Sure. We’re through with it.”

“I don’t like it,” said Al. It’s sloppy. You talk too much.”

“Oh, what the hell,” said Max. “We got to keep amused, haven’t we?”

“You talk too much, all the same,” Al said. He came out from the kitchen. The cut-off barrels of the shotgun made a slight bulge under the waist of his too tight-fitting overcoat. He straightened his coat with his gloved hands.

“So long, bright boy,” he said to George. “You got a lot of luck.”

“That’s the truth,” Max said. You ought to play the races, bright boy.”

The two of them went out the door. George watched them, through the window, pass under the arc-light and cross the street. In their tight overcoats and derby hats they looked like a vaudeville team. George went back through the swinging-door into the kitchen and untied Nick and the cook.


vaudeville ['v@ud@vIl]


“I don’t want any more of that (ÿ íå õî÷ó áîëüøå íè÷åãî ïîäîáíîãî = ñ ìåíÿ äîâîëüíî),” said Sam, the cook. “I don’t want any more of that.”

Nick stood up (âñòàë). He had never had a towel in his mouth before (îí íèêîãäà ðàíüøå íå èìåë ïîëîòåíöà âî ðòó).

“Say (ïîñëóøàé: «ñêàæè»),” he said. “What the hell?” He was trying to swagger it off (îí ïûòàëñÿ îòìàõíóòüñÿ îò ýòîãî /îò ïðîèñøåäøåãî/, ñäåëàòü âèä, ÷òî åìó âñå íèïî÷åì; to swagger — ðàñõàæèâàòü ñ âàæíûì âèäîì; ÷âàíèòüñÿ; õâàñòàòü).

“They were going to kill Ole Andreson,” George said. “They were going to shoot him (îíè ñîáèðàëèñü çàñòðåëèòü åãî) when he came in to eat.”

“Ole Andreson?”

“Sure.”

The cook felt the corners of his mouth with his thumbs (ïîòðîãàë óãëû ñâîåãî ðòà áîëüøèìè ïàëüöàìè; to feel — ÷óâñòâîâàòü; îùóïûâàòü).

“They all gone?” he asked.

“Yeah,” said George. “They’re gone now (îíè òåïåðü âñå óøëè).”

“I don’t like it,” said the cook. “I don’t like any of it at all.”

“Listen,” George said to Nick. “You better go see Ole Andreson.”

“All right.”

“You better not have anything to do with it at all (ëó÷øå íå ñâÿçûâàéñÿ: «íå èìåé íèêàêîãî äåëà ñ ýòèì âñåì»),” Sam, the cook, said. “You better stay way out of it (ëó÷øå äåðæèñü ïîäàëüøå îò ýòîãî: «îñòàâàéñÿ ïðî÷ü, âíå ýòîãî»).”

“Don’t go if you don’t want to (íå õîäè, åñëè íå õî÷åøü),” George said.

“Mixing up in this (âìåøèâàÿñü â ýòî, âìåøàòåëüñòâî â ýòî) ain’t going to get you anywhere (íèêóäà òåáÿ íå ïðèâåäåò = íè ê ÷åìó õîðîøåìó íå ïðèâåäåò),” the cook said. “You stay out of it.”

“I’ll go see him,” Nick said to George. “Where does he live (ãäå îí æèâåò)?”

The cook turned away (îòâåðíóëñÿ).

“Little boys always know what they want to do (ìàëåíüêèå ìàëü÷èêè âñåãäà çíàþò, ÷òî îíè õîòÿò äåëàòü),” he said.

“He lives up (ââåðõ ïî óëèöå) at Hirsch’s rooming-house (â ìåáëèðîâàííûõ êîìíàòàõ Õèðø),” George said to Nick.

“I’ll go up there.”


“I don’t want any more of that,” said Sam, the cook. “I don’t want any more of that.”

Nick stood up. He had never had a towel in his mouth before.

“Say,” he said. “What the hell?” He was trying to swagger it off.

“They were going to kill Ole Andreson,” George said. “They were going to shoot him when he came in to eat.”

“Ole Andreson?”

“Sure.”

The cook felt the corners of his mouth with his thumbs.

“They all gone?” he asked.

“Yeah,” said George. “They’re gone now.”

“I don’t like it,” said the cook. “I don’t like any of it at all.”

“Listen,” George said to Nick. “You better go see Ole Andreson.”

“All right.”

“You better not have anything to do with it at all,” Sam, the cook, said. “You better stay way out of it.”

“Don’t go if you don’t want to,” George said.

“Mixing up in this ain’t going to get you anywhere,” the cook said. “You stay out of it.”

“I’ll go see him,” Nick said to George. “Where does he live?”

The cook turned away.

“Little boys always know what they want to do,” he said.

“He lives up at Hirsch’s rooming-house,” George said to Nick.

“I’ll go up there.”


thumb [TVm]


Outside the arc-light shone through the bare branches of a tree (íà óëèöå äóãîâîé ôîíàðü ñâåòèë ñêâîçü ãîëûå âåòêè äåðåâà). Nick walked up the street beside the car-tracks (âîçëå òðàìâàéíûõ ïóòåé) and turned at the next arc-light down a side-street (è ñâåðíóë ó ñëåäóþùåãî ôîíàðÿ â áîêîâóþ óëèöó, â ïåðåóëîê). Three houses up the street (÷åðåç òðè äîìà) was Hirsch’s rooming-house. Nick walked up the two steps (ïîäíÿëñÿ íà äâå ñòóïåíüêè) and pushed the bell (è íàäàâèë êíîïêó çâîíêà). A woman came to the door.

“Is Ole Andreson here?”

“Do you want to see him?”

“Yes, if he’s in (åñëè îí äîìà).”

Nick followed the woman up a flight of stairs (ïîñëåäîâàë çà æåíùèíîé ââåðõ ïî ïðîëåòó ëåñòíèöû) and back to the end of a corridor. She knocked on the door (îíà ïîñòó÷àëà â äâåðü).

“Who is it (êòî òàì: «êòî ýòî»)?”

“It’s somebody to see you (òóò âàñ ñïðàøèâàþò: «êòî-òî ê âàì»), Mr. Andreson,” the woman said.

“It’s Nick Adams.”

“Come in.”

Nick opened the door and went into the room. Ole Andreson was lying on the bed (ëåæàë íà êðîâàòè) with all his clothes on (îäåòûé: «ñ îäåæäîé íà íåì»). He had been a heavyweight prize-fighter (áîêñåðîì-òÿæåëîâåñîì; heavy — òÿæåëûé; weight — âåñ; prize — íàãðàäà, ïðåìèÿ; to fight — äðàòüñÿ, áèòüñÿ) and he was too long for the bed (ñëèøêîì äëèííûé äëÿ êðîâàòè). He lay with his head on two pillows (ñ ãîëîâîé íà äâóõ ïîäóøêàõ). He did not look at Nick.


Outside the arc-light shone through the bare branches of a tree. Nick walked up the street beside the car-tracks and turned at the next arc-light down a side-street. Three houses up the street was Hirsch’s rooming-house. Nick walked up the two steps and pushed the bell. A woman came to the door.

“Is Ole Andreson here?”

“Do you want to see him?”

“Yes, if he’s in.”

Nick followed the woman up a flight of stairs and back to the end of a corridor. She knocked on the door.

“Who is it?”

“It’s somebody to see you, Mr. Andreson,” the woman said.

“It’s Nick Adams.”

“Come in.”

Nick opened the door and went into the room. Ole Andreson was lying on the bed with all his clothes on. He had been a heavyweight prize-fighter and he was too long for the bed. He lay with his head on two pillows. He did not look at Nick.


heavy [hevI] weight [weIt]


“What was it (â ÷åì äåëî: «÷òî ýòî áûëî»)?” he asked.

“I was up at Henry’s,” Nick said, “and two fellows came in (ïðèøëè äâà ïàðíÿ, òèïà) and tied me and the cook, and they said they were going to kill you.”

It sounded silly when he said it (ïðîçâó÷àëî, çâó÷àëî ãëóïî, êîãäà îí ýòî ñêàçàë). Ole Andreson said nothing.

“George thought I better come and tell you about it (Äæîðäæ ïîäóìàë, ÷òî ìíå ëó÷øå ïðèäòè è ñêàçàòü âàì îá ýòîì).”

“There isn’t anything I can do about it (ÿ íè÷åãî íå ìîãó ïîäåëàòü ñ ýòèì),” Ole Andreson said.

“I’ll tell you what they were like (êàê îíè âûãëÿäåëè: «íà ÷òî îíè áûëè ïîõîæè»).”

“I don’t want to know (ÿ íå õî÷ó çíàòü) what they were like,” Ole Andreson said. He looked at the wall (íà ñòåíó). “Thanks for coming to tell me about it (ñïàñèáî, ÷òî ïðèøåë ðàññêàçàòü ìíå îá ýòîì).”

“That’s all right (íå ñòîèò /áëàãîäàðíîñòè/: «ýòî â ïîðÿäêå»).”

Nick looked at the big man lying on the bed.

“Don’t you want me to go and see the police (íå õîòèòå, ÷òîáû ÿ ñõîäèë è çàÿâèë â ïîëèöèþ)?”

“No,” Ole Andreson said. “That wouldn’t do any good (ýòî áåñïîëåçíî: «ýòî íå ñäåëàëî áû íè÷åãî õîðîøåãî»).”

“Isn’t there something I could do (åñòü òóò ÷òî-íèáóäü, ÷òî áû ÿ ìîã ñäåëàòü = ìîãó ÿ ÷åì-íèáóäü ïîìî÷ü)?”

“No. There ain’t anything to do.”

“Maybe it was just a bluff (ìîæåò áûòü, ýòî áûë ïðîñòî îáìàí, áëåô).”

“No. It ain’t just a bluff.”

Ole Andreson rolled over (ïåðåâåðíóëñÿ: «ïåðåêàòèëñÿ») toward the wall (ê ñòåíå), “I just can’t make up my mind (ÿ ïðîñòî íå ìîãó ðåøèòüñÿ, ñîáðàòüñÿ ñ äóõîì) to go out (âûéòè). I been in here all day (ÿ áûë çäåñü âíóòðè öåëûé äåíü).”

“Couldn’t you get out of town (íå ìîãëè áû âû óåõàòü èç ãîðîäà)?”

“No,” Ole Andreson said. “I’m through with all that running around (ÿ ïîêîí÷èë ñî âñåé ýòîé áåãîòíåé: «áåãàíüåì âîêðóã, ïîâñþäó»).”

He looked at the wall.

“There ain’t anything to do now.”

“Couldn’t you fix it up some way (íå ìîãëè áû âû ýòî óëàäèòü êàê-íèáóäü; to fix — óêðåïèòü; ïî÷èíèòü)?”

“No. I got in wrong (ÿ ñäåëàë îøèáêó, âëèï = òåïåðü óæå ïîçäíî; wrong — íåâåðíûé, íåïðàâèëüíûé).” He talked in the same flat voice (îí ãîâîðèë òåì æå ïëîñêèì = óíûëûì ãîëîñîì). “There ain’t anything to do. After a while (÷åðåç íåêîòîðîå âðåìÿ) I’ll make up my mind to go out.”

“I better go back and see George,” Nick said.

“So long,” said Ole Andreson. He did not look toward Nick. “Thanks for coming around (ñïàñèáî, ÷òî çàøåë).”


“What was it?” he asked.

“I was up at Henry’s,” Nick said, “and two fellows came in and tied me and the cook, and they said they were going to kill you.”

It sounded silly when he said it. Ole Andreson said nothing.

“George thought I better come and tell you about it.”

“There isn’t anything I can do about it,” Ole Andreson said.

“I’ll tell you what they were like.”

“I don’t want to know what they were like,” Ole Andreson said. He looked at the wall. “Thanks for coming to tell me about it.”

“That’s all right.”

Nick looked at the big man lying on the bed.

“Don’t you want me to go and see the police?”

“No,” Ole Andreson said. “That wouldn’t do any good.”

“Isn’t there something I could do?”

“No. There ain’t anything to do.”

“Maybe it was just a bluff.”

“No. It ain’t just a bluff.”

Ole Andreson rolled over toward the wall, “I just can’t make up my mind to go out. I been in here all day.”

“Couldn’t you get out of town?”

“No,” Ole Andreson said. “I’m through with all that running around.”

He looked at the wall.

“There ain’t anything to do now.”

“Couldn’t you fix it up some way?”

“No. I got in wrong.” He talked in the same flat voice. “There ain’t anything to do. After a while I’ll make up my mind to go out.”

“I better go back and see George,” Nick said.

“So long,” said Ole Andreson. He did not look toward Nick. “Thanks for coming around.”


police [p@'li:s]]


Nick went out. As he shut the door he saw Ole Andreson with all his clothes on, lying on the bed looking at the wall.

“He’s been in his room all day,” the landlady said downstairs (ñêàçàëà õîçÿêà êîìíàò âíèçó /ëåñòíèöû/). “I guess he don’t feel well (ÿ äóìàþ, óæ íå çàáîëåë ëè: «îí íå ÷óâñòâóåò ñåáÿ õîðîøî»; to guess — óãàäûâàòü; ïðåäïîëàãàòü). I said to him: ‘Mr. Andreson, you ought to go out and take a walk (âàì íàäî áû âûéòè è ïðîãóëÿòüñÿ: «âçÿòü = ñäåëàòü ïðîãóëêó») on a nice fall day like this (â òàêîé ïðåêðàñíûé îñåííèé äåíü),’ but he didn’t feel like it (åìó íå çàõîòåëîñü).”

“He doesn’t want to go out (îí íå õî÷åò âûõîäèòü èç äîìó).”

“I’m sorry he don’t feel well (ìíå æàëü, ÷òî îí ÷óâñòâóåò ñåáÿ íåâàæíî),” the woman said. “He’s an awfully nice man (óæàñíî ñëàâíûé ÷åëîâåê). He was in the ring (îí áûë íà ðèíãå = áûë áîêñåðîì), you know.”

“I know it.”

“You’d never know it (íèêîãäà áû íå äîãàäàòüñÿ: âû áû íèêîãäà ýòîãî íå óçíàëè) except from the way his face is (çà èñêëþ÷åíèåì, êðîìå êàê ïî òîìó, êàêîâî åãî ëèöî),” the woman said. They stood talking just inside the street door (îíè ñòîÿëè, ðàçãîâàðèâàÿ, ïðÿìî â äâåðè íà óëèöó). “He’s just as gentle (íàñòîëüêî îí ìÿãêèé, êðîòêèé).”

“Well, good-night (ïðîùàéòå, äîáðîãî âå÷åðà, íî÷è), Mrs. Hirsch,” Nick said.

“I’m not Mrs. Hirsch,” the woman said. “She owns the place (îíà âëàäååò ýòèì ìåñòîì). I just look after it for her (ÿ ïðîñòî ïðèñìàòðèâàþ çà íèì äëÿ íåå). I’m Mrs. Bell.”

“Well, good-night, Mrs. Bell,” Nick said.

“Good-night,” the woman said.


Nick went out. As he shut the door he saw Ole Andreson with all his clothes on, lying on the bed looking at the wall.

“He’s been in his room all day,” the landlady said downstairs. “I guess he don’t feel well. I said to him: ‘Mr. Andreson, you ought to go out and take a walk on a nice fall day like this,’ but he didn’t feel like it.”

“He doesn’t want to go out.”

“I’m sorry he don’t feel well,” the woman said. “He’s an awfully nice man. He was in the ring, you know.”

“I know it.”

“You’d never know it except from the way his face is,” the woman said. They stood talking just inside the street door. “He’s just as gentle.”

“Well, good-night, Mrs. Hirsch,” Nick said.

“I’m not Mrs. Hirsch,” the woman said. “She owns the place. I just

look after it for her. I’m Mrs. Bell.”

“Well, good-night, Mrs. Bell,” Nick said.

“Good-night,” the woman said.


guess [ges]


Nick walked up the dark street to the corner under the arc-light (ïðîøåë ïî òåìíîé óëèöå äî óãëà ïîä ôîíàðåì), and then along the car-tracks to Henry’s eating house. George was inside, back of the counter.

“Did you see Ole?”

“Yes,” said Nick. “He’s in his room and he won’t go out.”

The cook opened the door from the kitchen when he heard Nick’s voice.

“I don’t even listen to it (ÿ äàæå íå ñëóøàþ ýòî),” he said and shut the door.

“Did you tell him about it?” George asked.

“Sure. I told him but he knows what it’s all about.”

“What’s he going to do?”

“Nothing.”

“They’ll kill him.”

“I guess they will.”

“He must have not mixed up in something in Chicago (åìó íå íàäî áûëî âïóòûâàòüñÿ âî ÷òî-òî òàì â ×èêàãî).”

“I guess so (ïîëàãàþ, ÷òî òàê),” said Nick.

“It’s a hell of a thing (ñêâåðíîå: «àäñêîå» äåëî; hell — àä).”

“It’s an awful thing,” Nick said.

They did not say anything. George reached down for a towel (äîñòàë ïîëîòåíöå: «ïîòÿíóëñÿ âíèç çà ïîëîòåíöåì») and wiped the counter (è âûòåð ñòîéêó).

“I wonder what he did (èíòåðåñíî, ÷òî æå îí òàêîå ñäåëàë)?” Nick said.

“Double-crossed somebody (ïåðåõèòðèë, îáîøåë êîãî-òî, ïåðåáåæàë êîìó-òî äîðîãó). That’s what they kill them for (âîò çà ÷òî îíè èõ óáèâàþò = èìåííî çà ýòî îáû÷íî óáèâàþò).”

“I’m going to get out of this town (ÿ óåäó, õîòåë áû, ñîáèðàþñü óåõàòü èç ýòîãî ãîðîäà),” Nick said.

“Yes,” said George. “That’s a good thing to do (ýòî õîðîøî áû: «ýòî õîðîøàÿ øòóêà = õîðîøî áû òàê ñäåëàòü»).”

“I can’t stand (ÿ íå ìîãó âûíåñòè, òåðïåòü) to think about him waiting in the room (êîãäà ïîäóìàþ, êàê îí æäåò â êîìíàòå) and knowing he’s going to get it (è çíàåò, ÷òî ïîëó÷èò ýòî = ÷òî ñ íèì êîí÷åíî). It’s too damned awful (ýòî óæàñíî: «ýòî ñëèøêîì ÷åðòîâñêè: «ïðîêëÿòî» óæàñíî»).”

“Well,” said George, “you better not think about it (à òû ëó÷øå íå äóìàé îá ýòîì).”


Nick walked up the dark street to the corner under the arc-light, and then along the car-tracks to Henry’s eating house. George was inside, back of the counter.

“Did you see Ole?”

“Yes,” said Nick. “He’s in his room and he won’t go out.”

The cook opened the door from the kitchen when he heard Nick’s voice.

“I don’t even listen to it,” he said and shut the door.

“Did you tell him about it?” George asked.

“Sure. I told him but he knows what it’s all about.”

“What’s he going to do?”

“Nothing.”

“They’ll kill him.”

“I guess they will.”

“He must have not mixed up in something in Chicago.”

“I guess so,” said Nick.

“It’s a hell of a thing.”

“It’s an awful thing,” Nick said.

They did not say anything. George reached down for a towel and wiped the counter.

“I wonder what he did?” Nick said.

“Double-crossed somebody. That’s what they kill them for.”

“I’m going to get out of this town,” Nick said.

“Yes,” said George. “That’s a good thing to do.”

“I can’t stand to think about him waiting in the room and knowing he’s going to get it. It’s too damned awful.”

“Well,” said George, “you better not think about it.”


Îãëàâëåíèå

  • Ìåòîä ÷òåíèÿ Èëüè Ôðàíêà
  • Ernest Hemingway. The Killers

  • Íàø ñàéò ÿâëÿåòñÿ ïîìåùåíèåì áèáëèîòåêè. Íà îñíîâàíèè Ôåäåðàëüíîãî çàêîíà Ðîññèéñêîé ôåäåðàöèè "Îá àâòîðñêîì è ñìåæíûõ ïðàâàõ" (â ðåä. Ôåäåðàëüíûõ çàêîíîâ îò 19.07.1995 N 110-ÔÇ, îò 20.07.2004 N 72-ÔÇ) êîïèðîâàíèå, ñîõðàíåíèå íà æåñòêîì äèñêå èëè èíîé ñïîñîá ñîõðàíåíèÿ ïðîèçâåäåíèé ðàçìåùåííûõ íà äàííîé áèáëèîòåêå êàòåãîðè÷åñêè çàïðåøåí. Âñå ìàòåðèàëû ïðåäñòàâëåíû èñêëþ÷èòåëüíî â îçíàêîìèòåëüíûõ öåëÿõ.

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