the world i live in-海伦·凯勒自传(英文版)-第8部分
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smell there is no notion of relievo； and odour seems to reside not in
the object smelt； but in the organ。 Since I smell a tree at a distance；
it is prehensible to me that a person sees it without touching it。 I
am not puzzled over the fact that he receives it as an image on his
retina without relievo； since my smell perceives the tree as a thin
sphere with no fullness or content。 By themselves； odours suggest
nothing。 I must learn by association to judge from them of distance； of
place； and of the actions or the surroundings which are the usual
occasions for them； just as I am told people judge from colour； light；
and sound。
From exhalations I learn much about people。 I often know the work they
are engaged in。 The odours of wood； iron； paint； and drugs cling to the
garments of those that work in them。 Thus I can distinguish the
carpenter from the ironworker； the artist from the mason or the chemist。
one place to another I get a scent
impression of where he has been……the kitchen； the garden； or the
sick…room。 I gain pleasurable ideas of freshness and good taste from the
odours of soap； toilet water； clean garments； woollen and silk stuffs；
and gloves。
I have not； indeed； the all…knowing scent of the hound or the wild
animal。 None but the halt and the blind need fear my skill in pursuit；
for there are other things besides water； stale trails； confusing cross
tracks to put me at fault。 Nevertheless； human odours are as varied and
capable of recognition as hands and faces。 The dear odours of those I
love are so definite； so unmistakable； that nothing can quite obliterate
them。 If many years should elapse before I saw an intimate friend again；
I think I should recognize his odour instantly in the heart of Africa；
as promptly as would my brother that barks。
Once； long ago； in a crowded railway station； a lady kissed me as she
hurried by。 I had not touched even her dress。 But she left a scent with
her kiss which gave me a glimpse of her。 The years are many since she
kissed me。 Yet her odour is fresh in my memory。
It is difficult to put into words the thing itself； the elusive
person…odour。 There seems to be no adequate vocabulary of smells； and I
must fall back on approximate phrase and metaphor。
Some people have a vague； unsubstantial odour that floats about； mocking
every effort to identify it。 It is the will…o'…the…wisp of my olfactive
experience。 Sometimes I meet one who lacks a distinctive person…scent；
and I seldom find such a one lively or entertaining。 On the other hand；
one who has a pungent odour often possesses great vitality； energy； and
vigour of mind。
Masculine exhalations are as a rule stronger； more vivid； more widely
differentiated than those of women。 In the odour of young men there is
something elemental； as of fire； storm； and salt sea。 It pulsates with
buoyancy and desire。 It suggests all things strong and beautiful and
joyous； and gives me a sense of physical happiness。 I wonder if others
observe that all infants have the same scent……pure； simple；
undecipherable as their dormant personality。 It is not until the age of
six or seven that they begin to have perceptible individual odours。
These develop and mature along with their mental and bodily powers。
What I have written about smell； especially person…smell； will perhaps
be regarded as the abnormal sentiment of one who can have no idea of the
〃world of reality and beauty which the eye perceives。〃 There are people
who are colour…blind； people who are tone…deaf。 Most people are
smell…blind…and…deaf。 We should not condemn a musical position on the
testimony of an ear which cannot distinguish one chord from another； or
judge a picture by the verdict of a colour…blind critic。 The sensations
of smell which cheer； inform； and broaden my life are not less pleasant
merely because some critic who treads the wide； bright pathway of the
eye has not cultivated his olfactive sense。 Without the shy； fugitive；
often unobserved sensations and the certainties which taste； smell； and
touch give me； I should be obliged to take my conception of the universe
wholly from others。 I should lack the alchemy by which I now infuse into
my world light； colour； and the Protean spark。 The sensuous reality
which interthreads and supports all the gropings of my imagination would
be shattered。 The solid earth would melt from under my feet and disperse
itself in space。 The objects dear to my hands would bee formless；
dead things； and I should walk among them as among invisible ghosts。
RELATIVE VALUES OF THE SENSES
VII
RELATIVE VALUES OF THE SENSES
I WAS once without the sense of smell and taste for several days。 It
seemed incredible； this utter detachment from odours； to breathe the air
in and observe never a single scent。 The feeling was probably similar；
though less in degree； to that of one who first loses sight and cannot
but expect to see the light again any day； any minute。 I knew I should
smell again some time。 Still； after the wonder had passed off； a
loneliness crept over me as vast as the air whose myriad odours I
missed。 The multitudinous subtle delights that smell makes mine became
for a time wistful memories。 When I recovered the lost sense； my heart
bounded with gladness。 It is a fine dramatic touch that Hans Andersen
gives to the story of Kay and Gerda in the passage about flowers。 Kay；
whom the wicked magician's glass has blinded to human love； rushes away
fiercely from home when he discovers that the roses have lost their
sweetness。
The loss of smell for a few days gave me a clearer idea than I had ever
had what it is to be blinded suddenly； helplessly。 With a little stretch
of the imagination I knew then what it must be when the great curtain
shuts out suddenly the light of day； the stars； and the firmament
itself。 I see the blind man's eyes strain for the light； as he fearfully
tries to walk his old rounds； until the unchanging blank that
everywhere spreads before him stamps the reality of the dark upon his
consciousness。
My temporary loss of smell proved to me； too； that the absence of a
sense need not dull the mental faculties and does not distort one's view
of the world； and so I reason that blindness and deafness need not
pervert the inner order of the intellect。 I know that if there were no
odours for me I should still possess a considerable part of the world。
Novelties and surprises would abound； adventures would thicken in the
dark。
In my classification of the senses； smell is a little the ear's
inferior； and touch is a great deal the eye's superior。 I find that
great artists and philosophers agree with me in this。 Diderot says：
Je trouvais que de tous les sens； l'oeil etait le
plus superficiel； l'oreille； le plus orgueilleux；
l'odorat； le plus voluptueux； le gout； le plus
superstitieux et le plus inconstant； le toucher；
le plus profond et le plus philosophe。＇C＇
A friend whom I have never seen sends me a quotation from Symonds's
〃Renaissance in Italy〃：
Lorenzo Ghiberti； after describing a piece of
antique sculpture he saw in Rome adds； 〃To express
the perfection of learning； mastery； and art
displayed in it is beyond the power of language。
Its more exquisite beauties could not be
discovered by the sight； but only by the touch of
the hand passed over it。〃 Of another classic
marble at Padua he says； 〃This statue； when the
Christian faith triumphed； was hidden in that
place by some gentle soul； who； seeing it so
perfect； fashioned with art so wonderful； and with
such power of genius； and being moved to reverent
pity； caused a sepulchre of bricks to be built；
and there within buried the statue； and covered it
with a broad slab of stone； that it might not in
any way be injured。 It has very many sweet
beauties which the eyes alone can prehend not；
either by strong or tempered light； only the hand
by touching them finds them out。〃
Hold out your hands to feel the luxury of t
