帕布莉卡【自譯投稿】
我妈肯定跟他讲了我画画的事。可我能说什么呢？说我妈要把我逼疯了？说我好想我外祖母，好希望我从来就没有离开古巴？说我想成为一个知名艺术家？说画笔总比枪要好吧，所有人为什么就不能不要来烦我？绘画有它自己的语言，我当时很想这样告诉他。翻译只会扰乱它，稀释它，就像是从西班牙语的话翻译成英语那样。我有时都会嫉妒我妈的西班牙语脏话。它们让我的英语在片刻之间崩塌。
Mom must have told him about my paintings. But what could I say? That my mother is driving me crazy? That I miss my grandmother and wish I’d never left Cuba? That I want to be a famous artist someday? That a paintbrush is better than a gun so why doesn’t everybody just leave me alone? Painting is its own language, I wanted to tell him. Translations just confuse it, dilute it, like words going from Spanish to English. I envy my mother her Spanish curses sometimes. They make my English collapse in a heap.
克里斯蒂娜·加西亚《古巴一梦》
Cristina García, Dreaming in Cuban
美国文学bot：感謝@tealresidue 的分享
精彩点评：
tealresidue：💚我的美国离散文学/逃离主义文学的真正入门就在这本书这段最后一句，一下子懂了第二代和第一代移民之间的差异。第一代为了逃离伤痛而前往美国却无法脱离故土的所有“语法”。第二代离成为真正美国人近了一些但仍感到无根，反而希望逃回去。也从这本小说看到拉美文化里家族dynamic和中国的许多相似。
