A Year in Reading: When We Are Redefined
Two images persist from my year of reading.
在我这一年的阅读中，有两幅画面一直萦绕在我心头。
The first, from J Wortham’s “How to Make Art Out of Confederate Monuments,” involves a bronze sculpture of Stonewall Jackson, the Confederate general, which stood for a century atop a pink granite plinth in Charlottesville, Virginia.
第一个来自 J Wortham 的《如何利用邦联纪念碑创作艺术》，其中包括邦联将军斯通沃尔·杰克逊的青铜雕塑，它在弗吉尼亚州夏洛茨维尔的粉红色花岗岩基座上矗立了一个世纪。
Wortham followed the statue, removed after a violent white-supremacist rally, then acquired by an art curator and offered to the artist Kara Walker for transformation.
沃瑟姆跟随这座雕像，在一次暴力的白人至上主义集会后被拆除，然后被一位艺术策展人收购，并提供给艺术家卡拉·沃克进行改造。
Walker used a laser cutter to remove Jackson from his horse and then butchered the animal, reassembling their pieces into “a demented Rorschach test, a mangled mess of bronze arms and hoofs, tail and jaws.” The pink granite plinth was given to another artist, Bethany Collins, who broke the massive object into pieces that she transformed into flower petals.
沃克用激光切割机将杰克逊从马背上取下来，然后宰杀了这头动物，将它们重新组装成“疯狂的罗夏墨迹测试，青铜手臂和蹄子、尾巴和下巴都被毁坏了。”粉色花岗岩底座被送给了另一位艺术家贝瑟尼·柯林斯 (Bethany Collins)，她将这个巨大的物体分解成碎片，然后将其转化为花瓣。
The second image comes from “The Man in the New Boots,” an account of Chandler Fritz’s decision to ride a bull at a rodeo in Phoenix, Arizona.
第二张图片来自《穿新靴子的人》，讲述了钱德勒·弗里茨决定在亚利桑那州凤凰城的牛仔竞技表演中骑公牛的故事。
The decision had come to Fritz fully-formed, a pre-packaged resolution.
弗里茨的决定已经完全成形，是一个预先包装好的决议。
Caught without a cup, Fritz improvises, crafting one from a jockstrap and a child-sized shin guard before mounting Babyface, his steer.
由于没有杯子，弗里茨即兴创作了一个杯子，用护身带和儿童大小的护腿板制作了一个杯子，然后骑上他的小牛“娃娃脸”。
From his place inside the chute, Fritz hears a chorus of voices—God, a rodeo clown, ZZ Top—before the chute boss cuts through, telling Fritz, “Move your dick up.” Fritz scoots, and the bright pink of the shin guard erupts from his pants, disgusting the chute boss.
弗里茨在滑道内的位置上听到了齐声的声音——上帝、牛仔竞技小丑、ZZ Top——然后滑道老板插了进来，告诉弗里茨，“把你的鸡巴向上移。”弗里茨快速移动，亮粉色的护腿板从他的裤子中喷涌而出，让滑道老板感到恶心。
“A perversion,” Fritz writes, in the instant before the steer carries him off, “is a turn from a previous path to meaning.
“一种变态，”弗里茨在小牛把他带走之前的那一刻写道，“是从以前的道路转向意义。
It is the betrayal of an exact course.”
这是对精确路线的背叛。”
An odd pairing, I know.
我知道，这是一对奇怪的组合。
And yet there’s more material running between these two images than a flash of pink, or being tossed from the powerful back of a beautiful creature.
然而，在这两个图像之间运行的材料不仅仅是粉红色的闪光，或者是从美丽生物强大的背部抛出的东西。
Each story, in its own way, is about the human capacity for redefinition.
每个故事都以自己的方式讲述了人类重新定义的能力。
I see traces of that same capacity throughout the stories I loved this year.
我在今年我喜欢的故事中看到了同样能力的痕迹。
Perhaps that’s not surprising.
也许这并不奇怪。
This year has been one of redefinitions, many of them orchestrated by powerful figures, often with violence.
今年是重新定义的一年，其中许多都是由有权势的人物精心策划的，而且往往带有暴力。
In the US, they include efforts to rename the Gulf of Mexico, to mobilize military personnel against civilians, to restrict personal identity.
在美国，这些措施包括重新命名墨西哥湾、动员军事人员对抗平民、限制个人身份。
Days after Donald Trump deployed the National Guard to subdue protests in Los Angeles over mass deportations, the US convened its first major military parade in decades, on the president’s birthday.
唐纳德·特朗普部署国民警卫队镇压洛杉矶大规模驱逐抗议活动几天后，美国在总统生日那天举行了数十年来的首次大型阅兵。
The timing of it all is reason enough to ask what a military parade in America is for, and what such pageantry means for our notions of democracy.
这一切的时机足以让我们思考美国举行阅兵的目的是什么，以及这样的盛况对我们的民主概念意味着什么。
“Whatever else it might be, a military parade is always a reminder of how readily the armed forces can be deployed both at home and abroad,” Linda Kinstler writes in “Phorm Energy Screamin’ Freedom,” her searing dispatch from the event.
琳达·金斯特勒 (Linda Kinstler) 在她对这次活动发表的尖锐评论中写道：“无论是什么，阅兵总是提醒人们，无论是在国内外，部署武装部队是多么容易。”
There is a difference between a democracy with military parades and a democracy without.
有阅兵的民主和没有阅兵的民主是有区别的。
Perpetual proximity to violence can transform who we are, even if that violence never touches us as directly as others.
永远接近暴力可以改变我们的身份，即使暴力从未像其他人那样直接触及我们。
In “Fear and Trembling in the Garrison,” Theo Lipsky, a US Army captain, meditates on ammunition guards, peacetime soldiers who take shifts protecting weapons.
在《驻军中的恐惧与颤抖》中，美国陆军上尉西奥·利普斯基（Theo Lipsky）思考了弹药警卫，和平时期轮班保护武器的士兵。
Lipsky is less interested in valorizing military service than he is in investigating the “great spiritual movements” accessible to such guards, who are “reconciled to peace but ready to receive war when it comes as if it were inevitable.” His guards aren’t metaphorical: Lipsky has served the same shifts, seen his fantasies dissolve, and felt the futility of the work take hold.
利普斯基对军役的重视不太感兴趣，他更感兴趣的是调查这些卫兵可以参与的“伟大的精神运动”，他们“甘于和平，但准备好接受战争，仿佛战争不可避免”。他的守卫并不是隐喻性的：利普斯基也曾经历过同样的轮班，眼睁睁地看着他的幻想破灭，并感到工作的徒劳无功。
And while his study of readiness and faith fixes on the ammunition depot, I see its match in the unending ranks of the big-hearted and just who devoted this year to safeguarding their neighbors and families against oppressive forces—work they once had never imagined.
虽然他对准备和信仰的研究集中在弹药库上，但我在无数心胸宽广、正义的人中看到了与之相匹配的人，他们今年致力于保护他们的邻居和家庭免受压迫力量的侵害——这是他们曾经从未想象过的工作。
An example?
举个例子？
Glad you asked.
很高兴你问了。
Try “The Xi Jinping School of Journalism,” Soyonbo Borjgin’s account of his career at The Inner Mongolia Life Weekly.
试试《习近平新闻学院》，索永博·博尔金 (Soyonbo Borjgin) 在《内蒙古生活周刊》上对自己职业生涯的描述。
It’s an exceptional document of personal change: Borjgin, once a bumbling cub reporter, gains his footing as a features writer as the Chinese Communist Party cracks down on Mongolian language education, twin stories that eventually converge.
这是一部关于个人改变的非凡记录：博尔金曾是一名笨手笨脚的初出茅庐的记者，但随着中国共产党打压蒙古语教育，这两个故事最终融合在一起，成为了一名专题作家。
His chronicle is a hoot until it isn’t; we are rarely in control of the circumstances that redefine us: Borjgin, now in the US, can’t find decent work despite his background, and may not see his parents again.
他的编年史一直很轰动，直到事实并非如此。我们很少能控制那些重新定义我们的环境：博尔金现在在美国，尽管有背景，却找不到体面的工作，而且可能再也见不到他的父母了。
Instead of a feel-good survival story, we have something simpler and more remarkable, a tale of a transformed consciousness, conflicted and honest.
我们没有一个感觉良好的生存故事，而是一个更简单、更非凡的故事，一个关于意识转变、冲突和诚实的故事。
But we are surrounded by more than darkness, and transformed by more than violence.
但我们所包围的不仅仅是黑暗，我们所改变的不仅仅是暴力。
So here’s where things take a turn.
所以事情就在这里发生了转变。
Twice this year, I was awestruck by Lily Scherlis, whose essays for Harper’s and n+1 each dealt with the complexities of human relationships.
今年两次，我对 Lily Scherlis 感到惊叹，她为 Harper’s 和 n+1 撰写的文章都涉及人际关系的复杂性。
For her most astonishing work, “Experiences in Groups,” Scherlis devoted two weeks to “group relations,” a social experiment she likens, at times, to “a kind of libidinal dodgeball; we pelt each other with hurtful mischaracterizations and pleas for connection.” The goal, she writes, “is neither conflict nor catharsis but understanding,” a way of preparing the self for better engaging with others.
在她最令人惊叹的作品《群体体验》中，谢里斯花了两周时间研究“群体关系”，她有时将这种社会实验比作“一种力比多躲避球；我们用伤害性的错误描述和寻求联系的方式互相攻击”。她写道，目标“既不是冲突，也不是宣泄，而是理解”，这是一种让自我做好准备以便更好地与他人互动的方式。
At first, Scherlis’s encounters in group relations struck me as darkly comic, discomfiting to the max.
起初，谢里斯在群体关系中的遭遇给我的印象是黑色喜剧，令人极度不安。
(“You look lost,” one participant tells her.
（“你看起来迷失了，”一位参与者告诉她。
“But maybe you are holding the part of me that is lost.”) But then, what do I expect of the people around me?
“但也许你抓住了我失去的那部分。”）但是，我对周围的人有什么期望呢？
Collectivism is messy work.
集体主义是一项混乱的工作。
“The truth,” Scherlis writes, “is that you cannot not be in a group.” We are always in relation to each other, even when we have pushed each other away.
“事实是，”谢里斯写道，“你不可能不融入一个群体。”我们总是彼此联系在一起，即使我们彼此疏远。
Our experiences play out mostly on the human scale.
我们的经历主要体现在人性层面。
We make sense of our times—and ourselves—through the people around us.
我们通过周围的人来理解我们的时代和我们自己。
Other people are our portals to understanding, maybe even to redefinition.
其他人是我们理解甚至重新定义的门户。
This year, in my favorite stories, someone was always watching someone else with devotional interest.
今年，在我最喜欢的故事中，总是有人带着虔诚的兴趣看着别人。
In “Nights and Days,” it’s Henri Cole, crawling on the floor with James Merrill, desperately seeking a dropped letter that might hold some grim news about Merrill’s health.
在《日日夜夜》中，亨利·科尔和詹姆斯·梅里尔一起爬在地板上，拼命寻找一封掉落的信，里面可能包含有关梅里尔健康状况的可怕消息。
(“It’s only the Stonington telephone bill!”) In “The Good Pervert,” it’s David Velasco, whose friendship with Brent Sikkema, the art dealer murdered in 2024, offered him a model of a person “fully committed to his values and his pleasures; unlike most people, he didn’t see a contradiction between the two.”
（“这只是斯托宁顿的电话费！”）在《好变态者》中，大卫·贝拉斯科（David Velasco）与 2024 年被谋杀的艺术品经销商布伦特·西克玛（Brent Sikkema）的友谊为他提供了一个“完全忠于自己的价值观和乐趣；与大多数人不同，他并不认为两者之间存在矛盾”的人的典范。
The people closest to us aren’t always sunny.
我们身边最亲近的人并不总是阳光明媚的。
Just take “The Talented Ms. Highsmith,” Elena Gosalvez Blanco’s chilling account of her time as an assistant to the novelist, renowned for her thrillers and for her misanthropy.
以《才华横溢的海史密斯女士》为例，埃琳娜·戈萨尔韦斯·布兰科以惊悚小说和厌世态度闻名，讲述了她作为小说家助理的经历。
Alone with Highsmith in her home, Blanco was controlled and monitored; perhaps Highsmith loved her, she wondered, or wished to kill her.
布兰科和海史密斯单独在家中，受到控制和监视。也许海史密斯爱她，她想，或者想杀了她。
From time to time, I think of the two of them, watching each other across the courtyard of Highsmith’s home—perilously close, in a sense, and extraordinarily remote in another.
我时不时地想起他们两个，在海史密斯家的院子里互相注视着对方——从某种意义上来说，他们距离很近，但从另一种意义上来说，却又异常遥远。
Yet no matter what else it is, paying close attention to another person is an act born from deep curiosity—an effort to answer a question about where you end and they begin.
然而，无论是什么，密切关注另一个人都是一种源于强烈好奇心的行为——努力回答一个关于你从哪里结束、他们从哪里开始的问题。
Take “My Mom and Dr. DeepSeek,” Viola Zhou’s study of her ailing mother, who forgoes an indifferent healthcare system for the assurances of a chatbot.
以“我的妈妈和 DeepSeek 博士”为例，Viola Zhou 对她生病的母亲进行了研究，为了得到聊天机器人的保证，她放弃了冷漠的医疗保健系统。
Zhou’s essay is one of the few I enjoyed this year about the ways generative AI is reshaping human life.
周的文章是我今年为数不多的一篇关于生成式人工智能如何重塑人类生活的文章之一。
I think the reason is simple: Zhou is close enough to her mother to understand—and to reveal to us—how she has changed.
我认为原因很简单：周与她母亲的关系足够亲密，能够理解并向我们揭示她的变化。
If you’ve come this far, then you know this already, but it still bears saying: We read about the lives of others to test the boundaries of our own.
如果你已经走到这一步，那么你已经知道这一点了，但仍然值得说的是：我们阅读别人的生活来测试我们自己的界限。
We spend so much of our lives enclosed in our own heads.
我们一生的大部分时间都封闭在自己的头脑中。
It would be a grim thing never to let anyone in; “be yourself” becomes a meaningless mantra when you exclude everyone else.
不让任何人进来将是一件可怕的事情；当你排斥其他人时，“做你自己”就变成了毫无意义的口头禅。
Maybe that’s the current I see running through those two opening images: Fritz on his steer, Wortham with a reconfigured Confederate statue.
也许这就是我在这两张开场图片中看到的电流：弗里茨骑着他的舵，沃瑟姆带着重新配置的南方联盟雕像。
In each story, something settled—the power of a symbol, the predictable trajectory of a life—has become unsettled, briefly or permanently.
在每个故事中，一些固定的东西——符号的力量，可预测的生活轨迹——已经变得不稳定，或短暂或永久。
Fritz writes of pumping gas and staring at a familiar mountain range and knowing the bounds of his world thoroughly—“the way I had always determined to know the world”—only to veer off-course.
弗里茨写道，抽气并凝视熟悉的山脉，彻底了解他的世界的边界——“这是我一直决定了解世界的方式”——结果却偏离了轨道。
We never see Fritz leave the bucking chute because the steer isn’t the point.
我们从来没有看到弗里茨离开降落伞，因为转向不是重点。
He has already ridden away from the world as he once knew it.
他已经骑马离开了他曾经熟悉的世界。
Wortham, meanwhile, writes with embodied clarity about the pink-granite flower metals carved from the Jackson statue’s century-old plinth: “I marveled at seeing something so masculine and violent be reformed with beauty and gentleness,” Wortham writes.
与此同时，沃瑟姆以具体清晰的方式描述了杰克逊雕像百年基座上雕刻的粉红色花岗岩花朵金属：“我惊讶地看到如此阳刚和暴力的东西被美丽和温柔所改造，”沃瑟姆写道。
“But the piece produced a tinge of fear in me, too—a fear of hoping too hard that such a metamorphosis was possible, or could be permanent.”
“但这件作品也让我产生了一丝恐惧——一种担心过于希望这种转变是可能的，或者可能是永久性的。”
“Permanent” is a distant horizon, of course.
当然，“永久”是一个遥远的地平线。
But “possible” is in the room with us, if we’re open to it.
但如果我们对此持开放态度，“可能”就在我们身边。
“This is what good art does,” a curator tells Wortham, at just the right moment.
“这就是优秀艺术的作用，”一位策展人在恰当的时刻告诉沃瑟姆。
“It gives something another form.”
“它赋予了某种东西另一种形式。”