Female Life on Planet Earth
One year after the death you throw a party.
死后一年，你举办了一场聚会。
they say grief needs a turn of seasons—one summer, fall, winter and spring—before the sadness lets go.
他们说悲伤需要季节的更替——一个夏天、一个秋天、一个冬天和一个春天——然后悲伤才会消失。
If you survive the year, you celebrate.
如果你能活过这一年，你就会庆祝。
When a man dies, his wife organizes the celebration.
当一个男人去世时，他的妻子会组织庆祝活动。
When a woman dies, the first daughter arranges the party.
当一名妇女去世时，第一个女儿会安排聚会。
If there are no daughters, the wife of the oldest living son does it.
如果没有女儿，则由长子的妻子来做。
If the dead woman has no children, there is no party.
如果死去的女人没有孩子，就没有聚会。
Because you are her only child, her aunt said matter-of-factly, the party is your responsibility.
因为你是她唯一的孩子，姨妈实事求是地说，聚会是你的责任。
Don’t panic, you have almost the whole year, which is enough time.
别慌，你还有差不多一整年的时间，足够了。
I will help you as much as I can, but the invitations must come from you, you must cook the food and ready your house.
我会尽力帮助你，但邀请必须来自你，你必须做饭并准备好你的房子。
People have to see that it’s you honoring your mother’s memory.
人们必须看到是你在纪念你的母亲。
She was my sister, but she was your mother .
她是我的妹妹，但她是你的母亲。
Her aunt paused.
她的姨妈停了下来。
I know we buried her just a few weeks ago, but the preparations for the one-year ceremony can take weeks, even months, which is why I am telling you now.
我知道我们几周前才埋葬了她，但一年仪式的准备工作可能需要几周甚至几个月的时间，这就是我现在告诉你们的原因。
It’s a big deal.
这是一件大事。
Some people really loved your mother, and some didn’t; invite them all.
有些人真的爱你的母亲，有些人则不然；邀请他们所有人。
Start at noon, the middle of the day is most auspicious, and go until the last guest leaves, no matter how late.
从中午开始，中午最为吉利，无论多晚，都要一直到最后一位客人离开为止。
There are many details of course, everything is very specific, and the specifications are ancient and, you know, important.
当然有很多细节，一切都非常具体，而且规范很古老，而且你知道，很重要。
Set up an altar with long tapered candles, flowers, photographs.
设立一个祭坛，放上长锥形蜡烛、鲜花和照片。
Everyone sits so they can see each other when they talk about the dead.
每个人都坐下来，以便在谈论死者时可以看到对方。
There are times to speak and times to be silent, and times for people to cry, and even a time to wail.
人有说话的时候，也有沉默的时候，也有人哭泣的时候，甚至还有哀号的时候。
Tell your neighbors to expect loud noises, tell them it’s part of our custom and please, do not call the police.
告诉您的邻居，请注意大声喧哗，告诉他们这是我们习俗的一部分，请不要报警。
Heti held a pencil above a blank piece of paper.
海蒂把一支铅笔放在一张白纸上。
Her aunt’s voice came through the tiny holes at the bottom of her cell phone, transmitted from dozens of miles away into the whorls of her ear as she sat in her small office at the accounting agency.
当她坐在会计机构的小办公室里时，姨妈的声音从手机底部的小孔里传了出来，从几十英里外传进了她的耳廓。
Her aunt went on.
她姨妈继续说道。
Flowers at every table, enough chairs, a full lunch, a full dinner, fruit, chocolate, nuts, cakes, tea, nothing preprepared or catered, it’s disrespectful.
每张桌子上都有鲜花，足够的椅子，丰盛的午餐，丰盛的晚餐，水果，巧克力，坚果，蛋糕，茶，没有任何准备或招待，这是不尊重的。
When your grandmother died, we had huge gatherings for the third-, seventh- and fortieth-day ceremonies, and by the time of the one-year anniversary, people expected a real party.
你祖母去世时，我们举行了盛大的聚会，举行了第三天、第七天和第四十天的仪式，到一周年纪念日时，人们期待着一场真正的聚会。
Our house was so full you couldn’t find a place big enough to hold your plate up to your face to eat.
我们的房子已经挤满了人，你找不到足够大的地方来把盘子举到脸上吃饭。
I remember our hallway was so crammed I had to push past the men’s big stomachs and the women’s soft hips just to get to the bathroom.
我记得我们的走廊太拥挤了，我不得不推开男人的大肚子和女人柔软的臀部才能到达浴室。
All those bodies in honor of my grandmother, all that life come together .
所有这些身体都是为了纪念我的祖母，所有的生命都聚集在一起。
.
。
.
。
Her aunt paused and then continued.
阿姨停顿了一下，然后继续说道。
Our house smelled like cologne and perfume for days.
我们的房子好几天都闻起来像古龙水和香水。
A complete success.
圆满成功。
That’s how you do it.
你就是这样做的。
Open your home and make people comfortable with the right food and songs and sayings so they can think about your mother, really remember her and mourn.
打开你的家，让人们享受正确的食物、歌曲和谚语，这样他们就能想起你的母亲，真正记住她并哀悼她。
There was another pause, and Heti waited for more instructions, but nothing came.
又是一阵停顿，海蒂等待着更多指示，但什么也没传来。
I know what you are thinking, her aunt finally muttered.
我知道你在想什么，姨妈终于嘟哝道。
This is all too old-fashioned, too much work, too much ritual.
这一切都太老套了，太多的工作，太多的仪式。
Not your responsibility.
不是你的责任。
The notepad was no longer blank.
记事本不再是空白。
Heti had drawn a series of orbs of various sizes, at odd distances from each other.
海蒂画了一系列不同大小的球体，彼此之间的距离很奇怪。
She shaded some, striped some and pockmarked a few.
她把一些遮蔽起来，给一些打上条纹，一些打上麻子。
Perfect circles, balls, spheres adrift somewhere in her imagination.
完美的圆形、球体、球体在她想象中的某个地方漂浮着。
She wanted to speak but the sketching calmed her into silence and she sat quietly as her aunt went on, anger now lacing the edges of the old woman’s voice.
她想说话，但素描让她平静下来，她静静地坐着，听着姑姑继续说下去，老妇人的声音里充满了愤怒。
You can always do it your way, or their way, her aunt said.
“你可以按照你自己的方式做，也可以按照他们的方式做，”她阿姨说。
Like when Avery’s mom died.
就像艾弗里的妈妈去世时一样。
No funeral, no ceremony, they just burned the body and were done with it.
没有葬礼，没有仪式，他们只是烧掉尸体就结束了。
If that’s good enough for my son-in-law’s mother, maybe it’s good enough for your mother, who sacrificed so much for you.
如果这对我女婿的母亲来说足够好，也许对你的母亲来说也足够了，她为你牺牲了这么多。
Heti cleared her throat to speak but her aunt cut in quickly.
海蒂清了清嗓子想说话，但姨妈很快插嘴了。
They threw a birthday party three weeks after she died!
她死后三周他们举办了生日聚会！
A birthday party.
生日聚会。
Three weeks!
三个星期！
For the little niece, what’s her name?
对于小侄女，她叫什么名字？
You remember, you were there, your girls were there, your mother and I came to pay our respects, to say a few nice things about the dead woman, mother to them all, but when we saw they hired a clown neither of us could say a thing.
你记得，你在那里，你的女儿们在那里，你的母亲和我来表达我们的敬意，对死去的女人说了一些好话，她是他们所有人的母亲，但当我们看到他们雇了一个小丑时，我们谁也说不出话来。
And that man, her aunt sighed, Avery’s father, drinking beer and asking your mother what kind of perfume she was wearing with his wife of fifty years dead for two minutes?
还有那个男人，她姨妈叹了口气，艾弗里的父亲，一边喝着啤酒，一边问你母亲，和他死去五十年的妻子在一起，用的是什么香水，持续了两分钟？
We were shocked.
我们很震惊。
But we kept to ourselves.
但我们保持沉默。
Who were we to them?
我们对他们来说是谁？
Distant relatives, nobodies.
远亲，无名之辈。
We sat on a bench and watched the grandchildren make up a game called ghost tag, where the person who is “it” is Death and when Death touches you, you become a ghost and have to play the rest of the game with your eyes closed.
我们坐在长凳上，看着孙子们编了一个叫鬼捉迷藏的游戏，其中“它”的人就是死亡，当死亡接触到你时，你就变成了一个鬼魂，必须闭着眼睛玩剩下的游戏。
And your mother, God rest her soul, pointed to the yard full of cousins walking around like zombies, tripping on tree roots, running into tables, laughing and crying, and said, See, this is what happens when you do not mourn the dead, they come back any way they can.
而你的母亲，愿上帝安息她的灵魂，指着院子里满是表兄弟姐妹，他们像僵尸一样走来走去，被树根绊倒，跑到桌子上，笑着哭着说，看，这就是当你不哀悼死者时会发生的事情，他们会以任何方式回来。
The orbs on the notepad began to resemble planets and Heti added rings to some and clusters of stars around others.
记事本上的球体开始像行星，Heti 在一些球体上添加了环，在其他球体周围添加了星团。
She listened to her aunt’s breath like the challenge it was, to speak, to acknowledge that across town this woman still lived and in living kept alive all the old ways and beliefs, all the ancestral understandings of shame and honor, heaven and disrepute.
她听着姨妈的呼吸声，仿佛这是一种挑战，要说话，要承认这个女人仍然生活在城的另一边，并且在生活中保留着所有古老的方式和信仰，所有祖先对耻辱和荣誉、天堂和耻辱的理解。
A long silence passed.
长久的沉默过去了。
Her aunt cleared her throat and started to speak in the poetic register she saved for the special occasions when she wanted to transcend her small stature, thick accent and old age.
她姨妈清了清嗓子，开始用诗意的语调说话，这是她为特殊场合而保留的，当她想超越自己矮小的身材、浓重的口音和年老时。
Who are we to speak of loneliness, who are we to talk of isolation, when we each have a mother to call us into this life and a child to carry us out?
当我们每个人都有一个母亲召唤我们进入这一生，有一个孩子带着我们出去时，我们有什么资格谈论孤独，我们有什么资格谈论孤立？
Then she shifted into a gentle tone.
然后她的语气变得温柔。
I know you are a busy woman, Heti.
我知道你是个忙碌的女人，Heti。
You have the girls, a big office job, a lot of responsibilities and powers, but—her aunt slowed—as the only daughter there is no one else who can honor your mother in the traditional way.
你有女儿们，有一份重要的办公室工作，有很多责任和权力，但是——她的姨妈放慢了脚步——作为唯一的女儿，没有其他人能够以传统的方式尊敬你的母亲。
It’s important for you, important for all of us.
这对你很重要，对我们所有人都很重要。
In the crater of a distant moon Heti shaded a few boulders and outlined a dried-up lake and then answered her aunt.
在遥远的月亮的火山口，海蒂遮住了几块巨石，勾勒出一个干涸的湖泊，然后回答了她的姨妈。
I can host the anniversary party.
我可以举办周年纪念聚会。
I’ll do it like you say.
我会按照你说的去做。
Her aunt’s sigh came through the earpiece like a gale.
姨妈的叹息声如狂风般从耳机里传来。
Thank you, Heti, that’s a good girl.
谢谢你，Heti，她是个好女孩。
You are becoming such a good girl.
你正在成为一个如此优秀的女孩。
Heti put the phone down and stared at her notepad, hypnotized by the galactic sketch where she now imagined a neat line of mothers and children marching from planet to planet, moon to moon, in transit across the universe.
海蒂放下电话，盯着记事本，被银河素描催眠了，她现在想象着母亲和孩子们整齐地排成一队，从一个星球到另一个星球，从一个月球到另一个月球，穿越宇宙。
Outside the window warm air moved the leaves on the branches while around her, phones rang, and men and women answered Helios Accounting, Entertainment’s Finest .
窗外温暖的空气吹动了树枝上的叶子，而她周围的电话铃声响起，男男女女接听太阳神会计，娱乐界的精英。
Heti stared at the drawing in front of her and muttered whatever under her breath.
海蒂盯着眼前的画，小声嘀咕着什么。
Whatever to the silly old poem and whatever to the ceremony and all its stupid little details and whatever to all the rules for daughters.
不管那首愚蠢的老诗，不管仪式和所有愚蠢的小细节，不管女儿的所有规则。
It was the same whatever she forced herself to mutter at the horror of finding her mother’s thin body, dead in her bed, her right arm hung down off the mattress, fingers curled over nothing, her jaw open and full of stagnant air.
当她惊恐地发现母亲瘦弱的身体死在床上，右臂垂在床垫上，手指蜷曲在虚无之上，下巴张开，充满了停滞的空气时，她强迫自己低声嘟囔着同样的话。
The whatever that locked life in the truths of biology, chemistry, physics, far from the hysteria and superstitions of her heart, her family, history.
那些将生命锁在生物学、化学、物理真理中的东西，远离她内心、家庭和历史的歇斯底里和迷信。
The same whatever she used when people said I’m so sorry when she told them her dad died when she was three or four.
当人们说“我很抱歉”时，当她告诉他们她父亲在她三四岁的时候去世时，她用的都是同样的说法。
Whatever, it’s fine.
不管怎样，没关系。
Respect your elders.
尊重长辈。
Be a good girl.
做一个好女孩。
Whatever.
任何。
Follow the rules.
遵守规则。
Whatever.
任何。
At the funeral Heti stood beside her mother’s body and hugged and kissed the mourners who said your mother your mother your mother and Heti thought, yes, she is dead, yes, it is as it is, and tried to think whatever but could not because her knees kept buckling beneath her and she had to use all of her mind and body to brace against the coffin just to stand.
在葬礼上，海蒂站在她母亲的遗体旁边，拥抱和亲吻哀悼者，他们说你的母亲，你的母亲，你的母亲，海蒂想，是的，她死了，是的，事情就是这样，并试图思考任何事情，但无法思考，因为她的膝盖一直在她身下弯曲，她必须用她所有的思想和身体支撑在棺材上才能站起来。
Now life was like that; some days fine and firm and full of whatever, while other days the hoarse bark of the neighbors’ dog or a friend’s grim diagnosis and her body succumbed to an emotional gravity that pulled her into a free fall.
现在的生活就是这样；有时候，她的心情很好，很坚定，充满了任何东西，而另一些时候，邻居的狗嘶哑的叫声或朋友的严峻诊断和她的身体屈服于情绪重力，将她拉入自由落体。
In those moments she thought of Jupiter.
在那一刻，她想到了木星。
Jupiter of our solar system.
我们太阳系的木星。
Jupiter from the pages of a children’s book she read and reread to her girls when they were young.
《朱庇特》取自一本儿童读物，她在女儿们还小的时候，给她们读了一遍又一遍。
Imagine, the author wrote in a dreamy tone, a planet made only of gas!
想象一下，作者用梦幻般的语气写道，一颗仅由气体组成的行星！
Just hydrogen and helium, with no land, no ocean, no rocks, only clouds upon clouds.
只有氢和氦，没有陆地，没有海洋，没有岩石，只有云层。
Just clouds!
只是云！
her girls screamed as they grabbed her arms.
她的女儿们抓住她的手臂时尖叫起来。
But where do you stand?
但你站在哪里？
What can you land on?
你能降落在什么地方？
How can you even be there?
你怎么能在那里？
Heti tried to explain to her girls that either you fall and fall, or you figure out how to fly, become a bird or a spaceship or a bit of gas, but their imaginations always raced to the worst and their bodies shivered with fear.
海蒂试图向她的女儿们解释，要么你不断地跌倒，要么你想办法飞翔，变成一只鸟、一艘宇宙飞船或一点气体，但她们的想象力总是跑到最坏的情况，她们的身体因恐惧而颤抖。
Really, Mommy?
真的吗，妈妈？
Really?
真的吗？
There’s nowhere to land?
没有地方可以降落吗？
Yup, only falling, Heti would say, and shrug her shoulders and tease them with a silly rhyme she made up to ease their panic and that came to haunt her since her mother’s death.
是的，只是摔倒，海蒂会说，然后耸耸肩，用她编出来的愚蠢的押韵来逗弄他们，以缓解他们的恐慌，自从她母亲去世后，这句押韵就一直困扰着她。
No place to land, no place to roam.
无处降落，无处漫游。
No place to bury your old dome.
没有地方埋葬你的旧圆顶。
From Female Life on Planet Earth by Laleh Khadivi.
来自 Laleh Khadivi 的《地球上的女性生活》。
Copyright © 2026 by Laleh Khadivi.
版权所有 © 2026 Laleh Khadivi。
Excerpted by permission of Ecco, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.
经哈珀柯林斯出版社旗下 Ecco 许可摘录。