I was slow to understand the deep grievances of women. This was because, as a boy, I had envied them. Before college, the only people I had ever known who were interested in art or music or literature, the only ones who read books, the only ones who ever seemed to enjoy a sense of ease and grace were the mothers and daughters. Like the menfolk, they fretted about money, they scrimped and made-do. But, when the pay stopped coming in, they were not the ones who had failed. Nor did they have to go to war, and that seemed to me a blessed fact. By comparison with the narrow, ironclad days of fathers, there was expansiveness, I thought, in the days of mothers. They went to see neighbors, to shop in town, to run errands at school, at the library, at church. No doubt, had I looked harder at their lives, I would have envied them less. It was not my fate to become a woman, so it was easier for me to see the graces. Few of them held jobs outside the home, and those who did filled thankless roles as clerks and waitresses. I didn’t see, then, what a prison a house could be, since houses seemed to me brighter, handsomer places than any factory. I did not realize—because such things were never spoken of-how often women suffered from men's bullying. I did learn about the wretchedness of abandoned wives, single mothers, widows; but I also learned about the wretchedness of lone men. Even then I could see how exhausting it was for a mother to cater all day to the needs of young children. But if I had been asked, as a boy, to choose between tending a baby and tending a machine, I think I would have chosen the baby. (Having now tended both, I know I would choose the baby.)
So I was baffled when the women at college accused me and my sex of having cornered the world's pleasures. I think something like my bafflement has been felt by other boys (and by girls as well) who grew up in dirt-poor farm country, in mining country, in black ghettos, in Hispanic barrios, in the shadows of factories, in Third World nations—any place where the fate of men is as grim and bleak as the fate of women. Toilers and warriors. I realize now how ancient these identities are, how deep the lug they exert on men, the undertow of a thousand generations. The miseries I saw, as a boy, in the lives of nearly all men I continue to see in the lives of many—the body-breaking toil, the tedium, the call to be tough, the humiliating powerlessness, the battle for a living and for territory.
When the women I met at college thought about the joys and privileges of men, they did not carry in their minds the sort of men I had known in my childhood. They thought of their fathers, who were bankers, physicians, architects, stockbrokers, the big wheels of the big cities. These fathers rode the train to work or drove cars that cost more than any of my childhood houses. They were attended from morning to night by female helpers, wives and nurses and secretaries. They were never laid off, never short of cash at month's end, never lined up for welfare. These fathers made decisions that mattered. They ran the world.
The daughters of such men wanted to share in this power, this glory. So did I. They yearned for a say over their future, for jobs worthy of their abilities, for the right to live at peace, unmolested, whole. Yes, I thought, yes yes. The difference between me and these daughters was that they saw me, because of my sex, as destined from birth to become like their fathers, and therefore as an enemy to their desires. But I knew better. I wasn't an enemy, in fact or in feeling. I was an ally. If I had known, then, how to tell them so, would they have believed me? Would they now?
女人與男人
（美）斯科特•拉塞爾•桑德斯
孫致禮 譯註
我遲遲未能理解女人的深切苦楚，因為我小時候曾羨慕過她們。上大學之前，我所認識的對藝術、音樂或文學感興趣的人，愛讀書的人，看上去優雅自在、安閒自得的人，統統都是做母親和做女兒的。像男人一樣，女人也為錢發愁，也省吃儉用，湊合度日。但是，如果家裏斷了收入，問題並非出在她們身上。她們也用不着去打仗，這在我看來是一樁幸事。跟做父親的那種狹窄、緊張的生活相比，我覺得做母親的日子過得比較寬鬆自在。她們上鄰居家串門，去城裏買東西，到學校，圖書館、教堂跑跑腿兒。當然，我若是對她們的生活觀察得敏鋭一些，就不會那麼羨慕她們了。我命中註定不是女人，因而更容易發現女人悠閒的一面。她們很少有人外出做工，即使有去做工的，也是做些諸如文書和女招待之類的出力不討好的差事。那時候，我還意識不到家會多像一座監獄，因為在我看來，家比哪座工廠都要亮堂美觀。我沒有認識到--因•為人們從不談論這類事情——女人經常遭受男人的欺凌。我倒了解被遺棄的妻子、單身母親和寡婦們多麼可憐，可我還知道孤身男人也很可憐。即使在那時，我已懂得做母親的整天照料孩子有多麼艱辛。不過，我身為一個男孩，假若有人間我願意看孩子還是願意看機器，我想我是會選擇看孩子的。（如今我兩樣事都做過了，我知道我會選擇看孩子。）
因此，當大學裏的女士指責我和其他男人壟斷了人間的歡樂時，我感到困惑不解。我想，生長在貧困鄉村。礦區、黑人貧民釐、講西班牙語居民的聚集區、工廠附近、第三世界國家的其他男生（以及女生），也同樣感到有些因惑不解——為但凡在這樣的地方，男人的命運和女人的一樣悽愴悲涼。做苦工，當炮灰。我現在認識到，這樣的身世由來已久，使男人受盡了重重壓榨，千代萬載被壓在社會的底層。我在幾時從幾乎所有男人的生活裏所見到的種種苦難，如今從許多男人的生活裏依然能夠看到——勞命傷體的苦作，單調乏味的生活，因為無能為力而抬不起頭，卻又不得不頑強地硬撐下去，為了生存和立身之地而抗爭。
我在大學裏遇見的女人考慮男人的樂趣和特權時，心裏想到的並不是我童年時代認識的那類男人。她們想到的是她們的父親，那些銀行家、醫生、建築師、股票經紀人，那些大城市裏的大亨。這些人乘坐火車去上班，或者開着比我小時候住過的哪座房子都值錢的小汽車。從早到晚，都有妻子、護士、祕書這樣的女幫手服侍他們。他們從不會被人解僱，從不會在月底缺錢花，從不用排隊領救濟金。這些人作出重大決策，管理着這個世界。
這些人的女兒想要分享這種權力，這般榮耀。當然我也想她們渴望能主宰自己的未來，找到能充分施展自己才幹的工作，獲得過上平靜、安寧、完滿的生活的權利。是的，我想正是如此乙我和這些女兒們的分歧在於：由於性別的緣故，她們認為我生來註定要成為她們父親那樣的人，因而也就成為妨礙她們實現自己願望的敵人。然而，我心裏很清楚。無論在事實上，還是在感情上，我都不是她們的敵人，而是她們的盟友。假如當時我知道如何向她們説明這一點，她們會相信我嗎？她們現在會相信我嗎？
註釋:
1. fretted在此意為exacting，因此譯作“緊張（的）”。
2. expansiveness：在此顯然與上面的narrow，iron-clad意義相對，因此譯作“寬鬆自在”。
3. looked harder at：在此不宜理解為“更使勁兒地看"，而是譯作“觀察得（更）敏鋭一些”為好。
4. corned：在此意為monopolized，故譯作“壟斷”。
5. dirt-poor：在此意為destitute（貧困、赤貧），不可望文生義地譯作“又髒又窮”。
6. Hispanic barrios：不可理解為“西班牙人居住區”，而是指（美國西南部城市中）“講西班牙語居民的聚集區”。
7. how deep the lug they exert on men：to put the lug on系美國俚語用法，意為“向……勒索（錢財）”，在此可譯為“使男人受盡了重重壓榨”。
8. the undertow of a thousand generations：undertow原意為（海面下的）“下層逆流”，在此為比喻用法，意為處在社會底層的人。
I was slow to understand the deep grievances of women. This was because, as a boy, I had envied them. Before college, the only people I had ever known who were interested in art or music or literature, the only ones who read books, the only ones who ever seemed to enjoy a sense of ease and grace were the mothers and daughters. Like the menfolk, they fretted about money, they scrimped and made-do. But, when the pay stopped coming in, they were not the ones who had failed. Nor did they have to go to war, and that seemed to me a blessed fact. By comparison with the narrow, ironclad days of fathers, there was expansiveness, I thought, in the days of mothers. They went to see neighbors, to shop in town, to run errands at school, at the library, at church. No doubt, had I looked harder at their lives, I would have envied them less. It was not my fate to become a woman, so it was easier for me to see the graces. Few of them held jobs outside the home, and those who did filled thankless roles as clerks and waitresses. I didn’t see, then, what a prison a house could be, since houses seemed to me brighter, handsomer places than any factory. I did not realize—because such things were never spoken of-how often women suffered from men's bullying. I did learn about the wretchedness of abandoned wives, single mothers, widows; but I also learned about the wretchedness of lone men. Even then I could see how exhausting it was for a mother to cater all day to the needs of young children. But if I had been asked, as a boy, to choose between tending a baby and tending a machine, I think I would have chosen the baby. (Having now tended both, I know I would choose the baby.)
So I was baffled when the women at college accused me and my sex of having cornered the world's pleasures. I think something like my bafflement has been felt by other boys (and by girls as well) who grew up in dirt-poor farm country, in mining country, in black ghettos, in Hispanic barrios, in the shadows of factories, in Third World nations—any place where the fate of men is as grim and bleak as the fate of women. Toilers and warriors. I realize now how ancient these identities are, how deep the lug they exert on men, the undertow of a thousand generations. The miseries I saw, as a boy, in the lives of nearly all men I continue to see in the lives of many—the body-breaking toil, the tedium, the call to be tough, the humiliating powerlessness, the battle for a living and for territory.
When the women I met at college thought about the joys and privileges of men, they did not carry in their minds the sort of men I had known in my childhood. They thought of their fathers, who were bankers, physicians, architects, stockbrokers, the big wheels of the big cities. These fathers rode the train to work or drove cars that cost more than any of my childhood houses. They were attended from morning to night by female helpers, wives and nurses and secretaries. They were never laid off, never short of cash at month's end, never lined up for welfare. These fathers made decisions that mattered. They ran the world.
學問齋