百年孤独(英文版)-第67部分
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Jos?Arcadio three years before he was sent to the seminary and caress him not as a grandmother would have done with a grandchild; but as a woman would have done with a man; as it was said that the French matrons did and as she had wanted to do with Pietro Crespi at the age of twelve; fourteen; when she saw him in his dancing tights and with the magic wand with which he kept time to the metronome。 At times It pained her to have let that outpouring of misery follow its course; and at times it made her so angry that she would prick her fingers with the needles; but what pained her most and enraged her most and made her most bitter was the fragrant and wormy guava grove of love that was dragging her toward death。 Just as Colonel Aureliano Buendía thought about his war; unable to avoid it; so Amaranta thought about Rebeca。 But while her brother had managed to sterilize his memories; she had only managed to make hers more scalding。 The only thing that she asked of God for many years was that he would not visit on her the punishment of dying before Rebeca。 Every time she passed by her house and noted the progress of destruction she took fort in the idea that God was listening to her。 One afternoon; when she was sewing on the porch; she was assailed by the certainty that she would be sitting in that place; in the same position; and under the same light when they brought her the news of Rebeca’s death。 She sat down to wait for it; as one waits for a letter; and the fact was that at one time she would pull off buttons to sew them on again so that inactivity would not make the wait longer and more anxious。 No one in the house realized that at that time Amaranta was sewing a fine shroud for Rebeca。 Later on; when Aureliano Triste told how he had seen her changed into an apparition with leathery skin and a few golden threads on her skull; Amaranta was not surprised because the specter described was exactly what she had been imagining for some time。 She had decided to restore Rebeca’s corpse; to disguise with paraffin the damage to her face and make a wig for her from the hair of the saints。 She would manufacture a beautiful corpse; with the linen shroud and a plushlined coffin with purple trim。 and she would put it at the disposition of the worms with splendid funeral ceremonies。 She worked out the plan with such hatred that it made her tremble to think about the scheme; which she would have carried out in exactly the same way if it had been done out of love; but she would not allow herself to bee upset by the confusion and went on perfecting the details so minutely that she came to be more than a specialist and was a virtuoso in the rites of death。 The only thing that she did not keep In mind in her fearsome plan was that in spite of her pleas to God she might die before Rebeca。 That was; in fact; what happened。 At the final moment; however; Amaranta did not feel frustrated; but on the contrary; free of all bitterness because death had awarded her the privilege of announcing itself several years ahead of time。 She saw it on one burning afternoon sewing with her on the porch a short time after Meme had left for school。 She saw it because it was a woman dressed in blue with long hair; with a sort of antiquated look; and with a certain resemblance to Pilar Ternera during the time when she had helped with the chores in the kitchen。 Fernanda was present several times and did not see her; in spite of the fact that she was so real; so human; and on one occasion asked of Amaranta the favor of threading a needle。 Death did not tell her when she was going to die or whether her hour was assigned before that of Rebeca; but ordered her to begin sewing her own shroud on the next sixth of April。 She was authorized to make it as plicated and as fine as she wanted; but just as honestly executed as Rebeca’s; and she was told that she would die without pain; fear; or bitterness at dusk on the day that she finished it。 Trying to waste the most time possible; Amaranta ordered some rough flax and spun the thread herself。 She did it so carefully that the work alone took four years。 Then she started the sewing。 As she got closer to the unavoidable end she began to understand that only a miracle would allow her to prolong the work past Rebeca’s death; but the very concentration gave her the calmness that she needed to accept the idea of frustration。 It was then that she understood the vicious circle of Colonel Aureliano Buendía’s little gold fishes。 The world was reduced to the surface of her skin and her inner self was safe from all bitterness。 It pained her not to have had that revelation many years before when it had still been possible to purify memories and reconstruct the universe under a new light and evoke without trembling Pietro Crespi’s smell of lavender at dusk and rescue Rebeca from her slough of misery; not out of hatred or out of love but because of the measureless understanding of solitude。 The hatred that she noticed one night in Memes words did not upset her because it was directed at her; but she felt the repetition of another adolescence that seemed as clean as hers must have seemed and that; however; was already tainted with rancor。 But by then her acceptance of her fate was so deep that she was not even upset by the certainty that all possibilities of rectification were closed to her。 Her only objective was to finish the shroud。 Instead of slowing it down with useless detail as she had done in the beginning; she speeded up the work。 One week before she calculated that she would take the last stitch on the night of February 4; and without revealing the motives; she suggested to Meme that she move up a clavichord concert that she had arranged for the day after; but the girl paid no attention to her。 Amaranta then looked for a way to delay for fortyeight hours; and she even thought that death was giving her her way because on the night of February fourth a storm caused a breakdown at the power plant。 But on the following day; at eight in the morning; she took the last stitch in the most beautiful piece of work that any woman had ever finished; and she announced without the least bit of dramatics that she was going to die at dusk。 She not only told the family but the whole town; because Amaranta had conceived of the idea that she could make up for a life of meanness with one last favor to the world; and she thought that no one was in a better position to take letters to the dead。
The news that Amaranta Buendía was sailing at dusk carrying the mail of death spread throughout Macondo before noon; and at three in the afternoon there was a whole carton full of letters in the parlor。 Those who did not want to write gave Amaranta verbal messages; which she wrote down in a notebook with the name and date of death of the recipient。 “Don’t worry;?she told the senders。 “The first thing I’ll do when I get there is to ask for him and give him your message。?It was farcical。 Amaranta did not show any upset or the slightest sign of grief; and she even looked a bit rejuvenated by a duty acplished。 She was as straight and as thin as ever。 If it had not been for her hardened cheekbones and a few missing teeth; she would have looked much younger than she really was。 She herself arranged for them to put the letters in a box sealed with pitch and told them to place it in her grave in a way best to protect it from the dampness。 In the morning she had a carpenter called who took her measurements for the coffin as she stood in the parlor; as if it were for a new dress。 She showed such vigor in her last hours that Fernanda thought she was making fun of everyone。 ?rsula; with the experience that Buendías died without any illness; did not doubt at all that Amaranta had received an omen of death; but in any case she was tormented by the fear that with the business of the letters and the anxiety of the senders for them to arrive quickly they would bury her alive in their confusion。 So she set about clearing out the house; arguing with the intruders as she shouted at them; and by four in the afternoon she was successful。 At that time Amaranta had finished dividing her things among the poor and had left on the severe coffin of unfinished boards only the change of cl