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But others thought this frivolous, and they wore "art fabrics" and barbaric jewelry. The men were seldom eccentric in appearance. They tried to look as little like authors as possible. They wished to be taken for men of the world, and could have passed anywhere for the managing clerks of a city firm. They always seemed a little tired. I had never known writers before, and I found them very strange, but I do not think they ever seemed to me quite real.
但是也有一些人认为这样不够庄重，这些人穿的是艺术性的纺织品，戴着具有蛮荒色调的珠宝装饰。男士们的衣着一般却很少有怪里怪气的。他们尽量不让人看出自己是作家，总希望别人把他们当作是老于世故的人。不论到什么地方，人们都会以为他们是一家大公司的高级办事员。这些人总显出有些劳累的样子。我过去同作家从来没有接触，我发现他们挺奇怪，但是我总觉得这些人不象真实的人物。
I remember that I thought their conversation brilliant, and I used to listen with astonishment to the stinging humour with which they would tear a brother-author to pieces the moment that his back was turned. The artist has this advantage over the rest of the world, that his friends offer not only their appearance and their character to his satire, but also their work. I despaired of ever expressing myself with such aptness or with such fluency. In those days conversation was still cultivated as an art; a neat repartee was more highly valued than the crackling of thorns under a pot; and the epigram, not yet a mechanical appliance by which the dull may achieve a semblance of wit, gave sprightliness to the small talk of the urbane. It is sad that I can remember nothing of all this scintillation. But I think the conversation never settled down so comfortably as when it turned to the details of the trade which was the other side of the art we practised. When we had done discussing the merits of the latest book, it was natural to wonder how many copies had been sold, what advance the author had received, and how much he was likely to make out of it. Then we would speak of this publisher and of that, comparing the generosity of one with the meanness of another; we would argue whether it was better to go to one who gave handsome royalties or to another who "pushed" a book for all it was worth. Some advertised badly and some well. Some were modern and some were old-fashioned. Then we would talk of agents and the offers they had obtained for us; of editors and the sort of contributions they welcomed, how much they paid a thousand, and whether they paid promptly or otherwise. To me it was all very romantic. It gave me an intimate sense of being a member of some mystic brotherhood.
我还记得，我总觉得他们的谈话富于机智。他们中的一个同行刚一转身，他们就会把他批评得体无完肤；我总是惊讶不置地听着他们那辛辣刻毒的幽默话。艺术家较之其他行业的人有一个有利的地方，他们不仅可以讥笑朋友们的性格和仪表，而且可以嘲弄他们的著作。他们的评论恰到好处，话语滔滔不绝，我实在望尘莫及。在那个时代谈话仍然被看作是一种需要下功夫陶冶的艺术，一句巧妙的对答比锅子底下噼啪爆响的荆棘【见《圣经》旧约传道书第七章：“愚昧人的笑声，好象锅下烧荆棘的爆声。”】更受人赏识，格言警句当时还不是痴笨的人利用来冒充聪敏的工具，风雅人物的闲谈中随便使用几句会使得谈话妙趣横生。遗憾的是，这些妙言隽语我现在都回忆不起来了。我只记得最舒适顺畅的谈话莫过于这些人谈论起他们从事的行业的另一方面——谈起进行交易的一些细节来。在我们品评完毕一本新书的优劣后，自然要猜测一下这本书销售掉多少本，作者得到多少预支稿费，他一共能得到多少钱。以后我们就要谈到这个、那个出版商，比较一下这个人的慷慨和那个人的吝啬。我们还要争辩一下是把槁件交给这一个稿酬优厚的人还是哪一个会做宣传、善于推销的人。有的出版商不善于作广告，有的在这方面非常内行。有些出版商古板，有些能够适应潮流。再以后我们还要谈论一些出版代理人和他们为我们作家搞到的门路。我们还要谈论编辑和他们欢迎哪类作品，一千字付多少稿费，是很快付清呢，还是拖泥带水。这些对我说来都非常富于浪漫气味。它给我一种身为这一神秘的兄弟会的成员的亲密感。
