scientist

THE NO.1 LADIES’ DETECTIVE AGENCY

                                      

EXCERPTIONS:

     p4
　　In idle moments,when they were no presshing matters to be dealt with,and when everybody seemed to be sleepy from the heat,she would sit under her acacia tree.It was a dusty place to sit,and the ckickens would occasionally come and peck about her feet,but it was here that Mma Romotswe weould contemplate some of the issues which,in everyday life,may so easily be pushed to one side.
　　Everything,thought Mma Ramotswe,has been something before.Here I am,the only private detective in the whole Botswana,sitting in front of my detective agency.But only a few years ago there was no detective agency,and before that,before there were even any buildings here,there were just the acacia trees,and the riverbed in the distance,and the Kalahari over there,so close.
　　In those days there was no Botswana even,just the Bechuanaland Protectorate,and before that again there was Khama's Country,and lions with the dry wind in their manes.But look ar in now: a detective agency,right here in Gaborone,with me,the fat lady detective,sitting outside and thinking these thoughts about how what is one thing today becomes quite another thing tomorrow.
　　
　　p61
　　The lawyer winced as she spoke."It's easy to lose money in business,"he said."Especially when you don't know anything about what you're doing."He stared at her hard."Especially then,And anyway,can women be detectives?Do you think they can?"
　　"Why not?"said Mma Ramotswe.She had heard that people did not like lawyers,and now she thought she could see why.This man was so certain of himself,so utterly convinced.What had it to do with him what she did?It was her money,her future.And how dare he say that about women,when he didn't even know that his zip was half undone!Should she tell him?
　　"Women are the ones who know what's going on,"she said quietly."They are the ones with eyes.Have you not heard of Agatha Christie?"
　　The lawyer looked taken back."Agatha Christie?Of course I know her.Yes,that is true.A woman sees more than a man sees.That is well-known."
　　"So,"said Mma Ramotswe,"when people see a sign saying NO.1 Ladies' Detective Agency,what will them think?They'll think those ladies will know what's going on.They're the ones."
　　The lawyer stroked his chin."Maybe."
　　"Yes,"said Mma Ramotswe."Maybe."Adding,"Your zip,Rra.I think you may not have noticed..."
　　
　　p63
　　In her heart of hearts,she knew there would be no clients.The whole idea was a ghastly mistake.Nobody wanted a private detective,and certainly nobody would want her.Who was she,after all? Shw was just Precious Ramotswe from Mochudi.She had never been to London or wherever detectives went to find out how to be private detectives.She had never ever been to Johannesburg,What if somebody came in and said "You know Johananesburg of course,"she would have to lie,or just say nothing.
　　Mna Makutsi looked at her,and then looked down at the typewriter keyboard.She opened a drawer,peered inside,and then closed it.At that moment a hen came into the room from the yard outside and pecked at something at the floor.
　　"Get out."Shouted Mma Makutsi,"No chickens in here!"
　　
　　p132
　　The house had been built in 1968,when the town inched out from the shops and the Govenment Buildings,It was on a corner site,which was not always a good thing,as people would sometimes stand on that corner,under the thorn trees that grew there, and spit into her garden,or throw their rubbish over her fence.At first,when she saw them doing that,she would shout from the window,or bang a dustbin lid at them.but they seemed to have no shame,these people,and they just laughed.So she gave up,and the young man who did her garden for her every third day would just pick up the rubbish and put it away.That was the only problem with that house,For the rest,Mma Ramotswe was fiercely proud of it,and daily reflected on her good fortune in being able to buy it when she did,just before house prices went so high that honest people could no longer pay them.
　　
　　p182
　　Mr J.L.B Matekoni nodded.It had been easy to break the windscreen and scatter the fragments of glass about the car.It had been easy to telephone Mr Gotso's house and report that the car had been broken into;but this part was more difficult--this was lying to somebody's face.It's Mma Ramotswe's fault,he thought.I am a simple mechanic.I didn't ask to get involved in these rediculous detective games,I am just too weak.
　　And he was --when it came to Mma Ramotswe.She could ask anything of him,and he would comply.Mr J.LB Matekoni even had a fantasy,unconfessed,guiltily enjoyed in which he helped Mma Ramotswe.They were in the Kalahari together and Mma Ramotswe was threatened by a lion.He called out,drawing the lion's atterntion to him,and the animal turned and snarled.This gave her the chance to escape,while he dispatched the lion with a hunting knife;an innocent enough fantasy,one might have thought,except for one thing:Mma Ramostwe was wearing no clothes.
　　He would have loved to save her,naked or otherwise,from a lion,but this was different.He had even had to make a false report to the police,which had really frightened him,even if they had not even bothered to come round to investigate,He was a criminal now,he supposed,and it was all becouse he was weak.He should have said no.He should have told Mma Romatswe that it was not her job to be a crusader.
　　
　　p212
　　Mma Ramotswe moved forward gingerly,placing each foot carefully and expecting at any moment to hear a hiss from a protesting snake,But nothing moved,and she was soon crouching under a mulberry tree as close as she dared to get to the house,From the shade of the tree she had a good view of the back door and the open kitchen window,yet she could not see into the house itself,as it was of the old colonial style,with wide eaves,which made the interior cool and dark.It was far easier to spy on people who live in modern houses,becouse architects today had forgetten about the sun and put people in goldfish bowls where the whole world could peer in through large unprotected windows,should they so desire.
　　Now what should she do?She could stay where she was in the hope that somebody came out of the back door,but why should they bother to do that?And if they did,then what would she do?
　　Suddenly a window at te back of the house opened and a man leaned out,It was Dr Komoti.
　　"You!You over there!Yes,you,fat lady!What are you doing sitting under out mulberry tree?"
　　Mma Ramotswe experienced a sudden,absurd urge to look over her shoulder ,as if to imply that there was somebody else under the tree.She felt like a schoolgirl caught stealing fruit,or doing some other forbidden act.There was nothing one could say;one just had to own up.
　　
　　p215
　　She knew the railway station slightly.It was a place that she enjoyed visiting,as it reminded her of the old Africa,the days of uncomfortable companionship on crowded trains,of slow journeys across great plains, of the sugarcane you used to eat to while away the time,and of the pitch of the cane you used to spit out of the wide windows.Here you could still see it--or a part of it--here,where the trains that came from the Cape pulled slowly past the platform on their journey up through Botswana to Bulawayo;here,where the Indian stores beside the railway buildings still sold cheap blankets and men't hats with a garish feather tucked into the band.
　　Mma Ramotswe did not want Afica to change.She did not want her people to become like everybody else,soulless,selfish,forgetful of what it means to be an Afircan,or worse still.ashamed fo Afica.She would not be anything but Afican,never,even if somebody came up to her and said"Here is a pill,the very latest thing.Take it and it will make you into an Amecian."She would say no.Never.No thank you.
　　
　　p234
　　The sun went,and it was dark.He sat beside her in the comfortable darkness and they listened,contentedly,to the sounds of Afica settling down for the night.A dog barked somewhere;a car engine raced and then died away;there was a touch of wind,warm dusty wind,redolent of thorn trees.
　　He looked at her in the darkness,at this woman who was everything to him--mother,Africa,wisdom,understanding,good things to eat,pumpkins,chickens,the smell of sweet cattle breath,the white sky across the endless,endless bush,and the giraffe that cried,giving its tears for women to daub on their baskets;O Botswana,my country,my place.
　　Those were his thoughts.But how could he say any of that to her?Any time he tried to tell her what was in his heart,the words which came to him seemed so inadequate.A mechanic cannot be a poet,he thought,that is not how things are.So he simply said:
　　"I am very happy that I fixed your van for you.I would have been sorry if somebody esle had lied to you and said it was not worth fixing.There are people like that in the motor trade."
　　"I know,"said Mma Romatswe."But you are not like that."
　　He said nothing,There were times when you simply had to speak,or you would have your lifetime ahead to regret not speaking.ut every time he had tried to speak to her of what was in his heart,he had failed.He had already asked her to marry him and that had not been a great success.He did not have a great deal of confidence,at least with people;cars were different,of course.
　　"I am very happy sitting here with you..."
　　She turned to him."What did you say?"
　　"I said,please marry me,Mma Ramotswe.I am just Mr J.L.B.Matekoni,that's all,but please marry me and make me happy."
　　"Of course I will,"said Mma Ramotswe.

感谢燕子把这本书从美国带回来。

      Ramotswe女士在博茨瓦纳开了第一家侦探事务所，同时也是第一家女士的侦探事务所。但这本书并不是一本侦探小说，你要知道，简单的叙述，一个fat lady在她的tiny white van里走过博茨瓦纳的每个角落，和邻近的地方帮博茨瓦纳善良淳朴的人们解决生活中的疑团——这是她，她的朋友和她的同胞们对博茨瓦纳的热爱。
　　
　　你读这本轻盈的书，感觉到的是非洲干燥的空气，密密匆匆的灌木，小房子，马克杯里面的茶，南瓜，牛群，清清淡淡的颜色，就像童话一样。是的，这简直就是童话。你不能用“现实”这个词来批评它，它不现实吗？Ramotswe的老爸爸年轻时做矿工的凶险经历，贫困，毒品，谋杀，巫术，以及吐着信子的眼镜蛇，都若有若无地藏在在这本可爱的书的每个角落中。世界的美丽只存在于视之美丽的人的眼中。
　　
　　正是因为这本小说没有花里胡哨的情节，安安静静的，所以闻起来没有商业的味道。

     我最喜欢的电影是<Out Of Africa>，道理就和无数男生最钟爱教父一样。<走出非洲>和这本小说相似的地方就是，若有若无的狮子，非洲美丽到要心脏停止的大草原，回想电影里小滑翔机上两人低头凝视的非洲，电影中的那段音乐就会在耳朵里响起。其次是非洲那些纯朴黝黑的人们，在殖民岁月中不得不改变自己的生活方式，同时捍卫自己的文化。 就如同Mma Ramotswe想的：She would not be anything but Afican,never,even if somebody came up to her and said"Here is a pill,the very latest thing.Take it and it will make you into an Amecian."She would say no.Never.No thank you.

　　

【作者: beemer】【访问统计:】【2008年06月13日 星期五 14:08】【注册】【打印】