消失的愛人

by Gillian Flynn

吉莉安·弗琳（Gillian Flynn），出生于美國密蘇里州堪薩斯市，作家及資深媒體人。父母皆為大學(xué)教授，從小便在無數(shù)的書籍和電影的浸潤下成長。大學(xué)畢業(yè)后進(jìn)入加州的一家雜志媒體，之后定居芝加哥，并在西北大學(xué)取得了新聞學(xué)碩士學(xué)位，進(jìn)入《娛樂周刊》工作，常在世界各地的拍片現(xiàn)場進(jìn)行采訪。迄今為止，吉莉安·弗琳已出版三部小說，部部都攬獲了文壇與媒體的無數(shù)好評。更是憑借本期推薦——《Gone Girl》一書，弗琳躋身美國暢銷書作家之列。處女作《Sharp Objects》入圍“愛倫·坡獎(jiǎng)”決選，并創(chuàng)下了史上首度同時(shí)獲得兩座英國匕首獎(jiǎng)的罕見記錄?！禗ark Places》和《Gone Girl》則雙雙榮登《紐約時(shí)報(bào)》暢銷書排行榜。二十世紀(jì)?？怂闺娪肮具€天價(jià)搶下了《Gone Girl》的電影版權(quán)，《七宗罪》及《返老還童》的導(dǎo)演大衛(wèi)·芬奇只看了兩頁書稿便表示要執(zhí)導(dǎo)同名電影。

整部小說以兩人購房的矛盾開篇，預(yù)示了接下來的情節(jié)將會(huì)是一波三折。男主人公尼克一切都要遂自己心愿的性格造就了這場悲劇，婚姻也猶如那道千里之堤一般，但它卻更加經(jīng)不起蟻穴的浸毀。女主人公艾米在與尼克結(jié)婚五周年紀(jì)念日的當(dāng)天，離奇失蹤！尼克通過媒體深情告白，瘋狂尋找消失的愛人。然而，艾米的一本日記，字字直指尼克是真兇。霎時(shí)間，人人自危，開始重新審視枕邊人……到底誰才是兇手，到底是為了什么？婚姻的經(jīng)營到底能不能敷衍，懶散消極的愛人到底又該不該得到教訓(xùn)？吉莉安·弗琳將用她那如刀鋒般犀利的筆鋒，為你講述一個(gè)又一個(gè)令人心驚膽戰(zhàn)的情節(jié)，她將給你一種經(jīng)歷，那種經(jīng)歷叫作——目不轉(zhuǎn)睛。

NICK DUNNE THE DAY OF

When I think of my wife， I always think of her head. The shape of it， to begin with. The very first time I saw her， it was the back of the head I saw， and there was something lovely about it， the angles of it. Like a shiny， hard corn 1）kernel or a riverbed fossil. She had what the 2）Victorians would call a finely shaped head. You could imagine the skull quite easily. Id know her head anywhere.

And whats inside it. I think of that， too： her mind. Her brain， all those coils， and her thoughts shutting through those coils like fast， frantic 3）centipedes. Like a child， I picture opening her skull， unspooling her brain and sifting through it， trying to catch and pin down her thoughts. What are you thinking， Amy？ The question Ive asked most often during our marriage， if not out loud， if not to the person who could answer. I suppose these question stormcloud over every marriage： What are you thinking？ How are you feeling？ Who are you？ What have we done to each other？ What will we do？

尼克·鄧恩事發(fā)當(dāng)日

每當(dāng)想起我太太，我總會(huì)想起她的頭。先是輪廓：第一眼見到她時(shí)，我望見的就是她的后腦，其自有某種曼妙之處，好似一粒閃亮堅(jiān)硬的玉米粒兒，要不然便是河床上的一塊化石。在維多利亞時(shí)代，人們定會(huì)夸她“頭型雅致”，你簡直一下子就能想出顱骨的形狀。不管在哪兒，我都不會(huì)錯(cuò)認(rèn)她那顆小腦袋。

我也會(huì)想起那顆腦袋里的思緒。她的腦中有著無數(shù)溝回，一個(gè)個(gè)念頭穿梭其間，好似狂亂的蜈蚣。我像個(gè)孩子一般想象著一幕場景：我要打開她的頭顱，理清溝回，捉住思緒，讓其無處可逃。“你在想些什么呢，艾米？”自結(jié)婚以來，這是我問得最多的問題，即使我沒有大聲問出口，也沒有問那個(gè)掌握著答案的人；但據(jù)我猜想，這些問題恰似陰云一般籠罩著每一段婚姻——“你在想些什么呢？你感覺怎么樣？你是誰？我們都對彼此做了些什么？我們該怎么辦？”

My eyes flipped open at exactly six a.m. This was no avian fluttering of the lashes， no gentle blink toward consciousness. The awakening was mechanical. A spooky ventriloquist—dummy click of the lids： The world is black and then， showtime！ 6-0-0 the clock said—in my face， first thing I saw. 6-0-0. It felt different. I rarely woke at such a rounded time. I was a man of jagged risings： 8：43， 11：51， 9：26. My life was alarmless. At that exact moment， 6-0-0， the sun climbed over the skyline of oaks， revealing its full summer angry—God self. Its reflection flared across the river toward our house， a long， blaring finger aimed at me through our frail bedroom curtains. Accusing： You have been seen. You will be seen.

I 4）wallowed in bed， which was our New York bed in our new house， which we still called the new house， even though wed been here for two years. Its a rented house right along the Mississippi River， a house that screams Suburban 5）Nouveau Riche， the kind of place I aspired to as a kid from my 6）splitlevel， shag-carpet side of town. The kind of house that is immediately familiar： a generically grand， unchallenging， new， new， new house that my wife would—and

did—detest.

清晨六點(diǎn)整，我睜開了眼睛，可不是睡眼惺忪悠然醒來，這次我是直挺挺地醒過來的。眼簾“咔嗒”一下睜開，好似詭異的木偶娃娃，眼前先是一片漆黑，緊接著——好戲登場！我面前的鬧鐘顯示六點(diǎn)整——我一眼瞧見：六點(diǎn)整。這種感覺有點(diǎn)怪，因?yàn)槲液苌僭谡c(diǎn)睡醒，我這人起床的時(shí)間很不規(guī)律，要么是八點(diǎn)四十三分，要么是十一點(diǎn)五十一分，要么是九點(diǎn)二十六分。我的生活可不受鬧鐘的擺布。恰在六點(diǎn)整，夏日朝陽從橡樹叢背后噴薄而出，露出凌人的氣勢。陽光在河面上投下了一片倒影，光亮照耀著我們的屋子，活像一根亮閃閃的長手指，刺破臥室里薄薄的窗簾指向我，仿佛在控訴：“你已經(jīng)暴露在光天化日之下，你終究會(huì)暴露在光天化日之下。”

我正在床上輾轉(zhuǎn)反側(cè)，身下躺的是在紐約用過的那張床，身處的卻是我們位于密蘇里州的“新家”。回到密蘇里州已經(jīng)兩年了，我們卻仍然把這棟房子叫作“新家”。這是一棟租來的房子，位于密西西比河畔，從上到下都流露出一股暴發(fā)戶氣質(zhì)，兒時(shí)住在鋪著粗毛地毯的錯(cuò)層式小破屋里時(shí)，我便一心期盼著這種豪宅。房子看上去似曾相識，模樣倒是宏偉豪華、中規(guī)中矩，也新得不能再新，可惜注定不討我太太的歡心，話說回來，她也確實(shí)對我們的“新家”深惡痛絕。

“Should I remove my soul before I come inside？” Her first line upon arrival. It had been a compromise： Amy demanded we rent， not buy， in my little Missouri hometown， in her firm hope that we wouldnt be stuck here long. But the only houses for rent were clustered in this failed development： a miniature ghost town of bankowned， recession-busted， price-reduced mansions， a neighborhood that closed before it ever opened. It was a compromise， but Amy didnt see it that way， not in the least. To Amy， it was a punishing whim on my part， a nasty， selfish twist of the knife. I would drag her， caveman-style， to a town she had aggressively a v o i d e d ， a n d make her live in the kind of house she used to mock. I suppose its not a compromise if only one of you considers it such， but that was what our compromises tended to look like. One of us was always angry. Amy， usually.

Do not blame me for this particular 7）grievance， Amy. The 8）Missouri Grievance. Blame the economy， blame bad luck， blame my parents， blame your parents， blame the Internet， blame people who use the Internet. I used to be a writer. I was a writer who wrote about TV and movies and books. Back when people read things on paper， back when anyone cared about what I thought. Id arrived in New York in the late 90s， the last gasp of the glory days， although no one knew it then.

New York was packed with writers， real writers， because there were magazines， real magazines， loads of them. This was back when the Internet was still some exotic pet kept in the corner of the publishing world—throw some 9）kibble at it， watch it dance on its little leash， oh quite cute， it definitely wont kill us in the night. Think about it： a time when newly graduated college kids could come to New York and get paid to write. We had no clue that we were 10）embarking on careers that would vanish within a decade.

“進(jìn)家之前我得先把魂弄掉吧？”一到“新家”她就開口說了這么一句。其實(shí)，當(dāng)時(shí)租房是個(gè)折衷的辦法，艾米一心盼著早日搬出密蘇里州，因此死活不讓我在自己的家鄉(xiāng)小鎮(zhèn)購房，只肯租上一所。但本地僅供出租的宅邸全部聚集在這片爛尾的住宅小區(qū)里，當(dāng)時(shí)經(jīng)濟(jì)不景氣，撂下了一個(gè)爛攤子，這片小區(qū)還沒開啟新生便已然沒落，房產(chǎn)收歸銀行所有，里面的豪宅通通降了價(jià)。租這個(gè)“新家”是一條折衷之道，可惜艾米卻不這么認(rèn)為，一點(diǎn)也不。在艾米眼里，這就是我用來修理她的一招，是我非要背地里捅她一刀子，不由分說地把她拽到一個(gè)她死活不愿意待的城市，讓她住進(jìn)一棟死活看不上眼的房子。如果只有一方認(rèn)為某個(gè)主意是一條折衷之道，那我想這主意也算不上折衷，但我與艾米的折衷常常就是這樣，我們兩人中間總有一個(gè)人為此怒氣沖沖，通常這個(gè)人都會(huì)是艾米。

拜托，別把你對密蘇里州的一腔怨氣撒在我頭上。艾米，這事都怪經(jīng)濟(jì)形勢，怪運(yùn)氣不好，怪我父母和你父母，怪互聯(lián)網(wǎng)，還要怪上網(wǎng)的那幫家伙。我曾經(jīng)是一名撰稿人，寫些關(guān)于電視、電影和圖書的文字，當(dāng)時(shí)人們還樂于閱讀紙質(zhì)作品，還肯搭理我的所思所想。我于上世紀(jì)90年代末抵達(dá)紐約，算起來那已是輝煌歲月的垂死掙扎，可惜當(dāng)時(shí)無人具備這份遠(yuǎn)見。

紐約擠滿了密密麻麻的作家，都是響當(dāng)當(dāng)配得上“作家”頭銜的那種真貨，因?yàn)楸藭r(shí)的紐約遍地都是雜志，也是響當(dāng)當(dāng)配得上“雜志”頭銜的那種真貨?；ヂ?lián)網(wǎng)還只能算是出版界豢養(yǎng)在角落里的一只珍稀小寵，人們時(shí)不時(shí)扔口食物逗逗它，看它拴著鎖鏈翩翩起舞，那小家伙真是可愛得不得了，誰知道它會(huì)趁著夜色了結(jié)我們的小命呢？請諸位想想吧，當(dāng)時(shí)剛畢業(yè)的大學(xué)生居然可以到紐約靠寫作賺錢。可惜我們沒料到自己上了一艘沉船，十年之內(nèi)，我們那剛剛揚(yáng)帆的職業(yè)就會(huì)消失得無影無蹤。

I had a job for eleven years and then I didnt， it was that fast. All around the country， magazines began shuttering， succumbing to a sudden infection brought on by the busted economy. Writers （my kind of writers： aspiring novelists， 11）ruminative thinkers， people whose brains dont work quick enough to blog or link or tweet， basically old， stubborn 12）blowhards） were through. We were like womens hat makers or buggy-whip manufacturers： Our time was done. Three weeks after I got cut loose， Amy lost her job， such as it was. （Now I can feel Amy looking over my shoulder， smirking at the time Ive spent discussing my career， my misfortune， and dismissing her experience in one sentence. That， she would tell you， is typical. Just like Nick， she would say. It was a 13）refrain of hers： Just like Nick to…and whatever followed， whatever was just like me， was bad.） Two jobless grown-ups， we spent weeks wandering around our 14）Brooklyn brownstone in socks and pajamas， ignoring the future， strewing unopened mail across tables and sofas， eating ice cream at ten a.m. and taking thick afternoon naps.

我當(dāng)了整整十一年撰稿人，卻在一眨眼間丟了工作，形勢就是變得這么快。當(dāng)時(shí)經(jīng)濟(jì)蕭條，全國各地的雜志紛紛倒閉，撰稿人也跟著一起完蛋（我說的是像我這樣的撰稿人，也就是胸懷大志的小說家和上下求索的思想家，這些家伙的腦子轉(zhuǎn)得不夠快，玩不轉(zhuǎn)博客、鏈接和“推特”，基本上屬于夸夸其談的老頑固）。我們這群人是過時(shí)的老古董，就像是那些做女帽、馬車鞭子的，屬于我們的時(shí)代已經(jīng)結(jié)束。在我丟掉飯碗三個(gè)星期以后，艾米也跟著失了業(yè)（現(xiàn)在我能感覺到艾米在背后冷眼嘲諷當(dāng)初我一味想著自己的事業(yè)，自憐自怨，對她的遭遇卻不當(dāng)一回事。她會(huì)告訴你，這一套就是我的作風(fēng)，“……簡直是尼克的典型作風(fēng)”，她會(huì)說出這么一句話來。這句話是我太太的口頭禪，不管這句話前面說的是件什么事，不管我的典型作風(fēng)具體怎么樣，總之不會(huì)是什么好事）。于是我與艾米搖身一變成了兩個(gè)失業(yè)的成年人，穿著襪子和睡衣在布魯克林的褐沙石宅邸里賦閑了好幾個(gè)星期，一股腦兒把未來拋在了腦后，還把沒開封的信件撒得到處都是，扔在桌子和沙發(fā)上，上午十點(diǎn)鐘就吃上了冰激凌，下午則倒頭呼呼大睡。

Then one day the phone rang. My twin sister was on the other end. Margo had moved back home after her own New York layoff a year before—the girl is one step ahead of me in everything， even shitty luck. Margo， calling from good ole 15）North Carthage， Missouri， from the house where we grew up， and as I listened to her voice， I saw her at age ten， with a dark cap of hair and overall shorts， sitting on our grandparents back dock， her body slouched over like an old pillow， her skinny legs dangling in the water， watching the river flow over fishwhite feet， so intently， utterly self-possessed even as a child. Gos voice was warm and crinkly even as she gave this cold news： Our indomitable mother was dying. Our dad was nearly gone—his （nasty） mind， his （miserable） heart， both murky as he meandered toward the great gray beyond. But it looked like our mother would beat him there. About six month later， maybe a year， she had. I could tell that Go had gone to meet with the doctor by herself， taken her studious notes in her 16）slovenly handwriting， and she was teary as she tried to 17）decipher what shed written. Dates and doses.

“Well， f**k， I have no idea what this says， is it a nine？ Does that even make sense？” she said， and I interrupted. Here was a task， a purpose， held out on my sisters palm like a palm. I almost cried with relief.

“Ill come back， Go. Well move back home. You shouldnt have to do this all by yourself.” She didnt believe me. I could hear her breathing on the other end.

“Im serious， Go. Why not？ Theres nothing here.”

A long exhale. “What about Amy？”

That is what I didnt take long enough to consider. I simply assumed I would bundle up my New York wife with her New York interests， her New York pride， and remove her from her New York parents—leave the frantic， thrilling futureland of Manhattan behind—and transplant her to... I did not yet understand how foolish， how optimistic， how， yes， just like Nick I was for thinking this. The misery it would lead to.

后來有一天，電話鈴響了，來電人是我的孿生妹妹瑪戈?，敻暌荒昵霸诩~約丟了工作，隨即搬回了家鄉(xiāng)，這個(gè)姑娘不管什么事都搶先我一步，撞上霉運(yùn)也不例外。當(dāng)時(shí)瑪戈從密蘇里州北迦太基老家打來電話（我與瑪戈就在那所房子里長大成人），聽著她的聲音，我的眼前不由得浮現(xiàn)出她十歲時(shí)的一幕：一頭黑發(fā)的瑪戈穿著連體短褲坐在祖父母屋后的碼頭上，像個(gè)舊枕頭般耷拉著身子，在水中晃著兩條纖細(xì)的腿，目不轉(zhuǎn)睛地望著河水流過自己雪白的腳，顯得格外冷靜沉著，雖然只是個(gè)小孩。在電話里，瑪戈的聲音十分溫暖，帶來的消息卻令人寒心。

她告訴我，我們那位不服輸?shù)膵寢尶煲獡尾蛔×?。我們的爸爸也快不行了，他已心智糊涂，可憐兮兮，正一步步邁向生命的盡頭。但看上去媽媽會(huì)比他先行一步——后來大約過了半年，也可能是一年，她果真先父親一步離開了人世。但當(dāng)初接到電話時(shí)，我可以斷定瑪戈單獨(dú)去見過醫(yī)生，還用她那歪歪扭扭的字勤懇地記著筆記，眼淚汪汪地想要讀懂自己寫下的日期和藥劑。

“嗯，見鬼，我壓根兒不知道這寫的是個(gè)什么玩意兒，是九嗎？這個(gè)數(shù)字有意義嗎？” 瑪戈念叨著，我卻插嘴打斷了她。妹妹適時(shí)向我展示了照料父母的重任，我感動(dòng)得差點(diǎn)兒哭出了聲。

“我會(huì)回來，瑪戈，我們會(huì)搬回家，這副擔(dān)子不應(yīng)該讓你一個(gè)人來挑?！彼龎焊鶅翰幌嘈盼业脑?，我能聽到她在電話那頭的呼吸聲。

“我是說真的，瑪戈，回去又何妨？反正我在這里無牽無掛。 ”

瑪戈長長地呼了一口氣，“那艾米怎么辦？”

我確實(shí)沒有把這一點(diǎn)考慮周全，我只是簡單地認(rèn)為自己可以帶著艾米離開她那住在紐約的父母，把我那一身紐約氣息的妻子，她的紐約品位還有她那身為紐約人的自豪一股腦兒帶走，就此把激動(dòng)人心、光怪陸離的曼哈頓拋在腦后。當(dāng)時(shí)我還沒有弄明白自己的想法是多么蠢、多么盲目樂觀，沒錯(cuò)，“……簡直是尼克的典型作風(fēng)”，我也還不明白這種想法會(huì)招來多大一場禍。