Obituary;
Keith Colquhoun;
Farewell to an old Asia hand and The Economist's previous Obituaries editor;
In the 20-odd years he worked for The Economist, from 1981 to 2004, Keith Colquhoun never raised his voice. He did not need to. His soft, courteous, slightly smiling delivery encouraged people to listen, as to a favourite uncle. But steel lay behind it. “I've just taken one or two liberties with your copy,” he would say, meaning that it had been completely rewritten into the best simple, accurate, sparely punctuated Colquhoun prose. “I would like to do X,” he would say gently, announcing the week's Obituary candidate, who was often a complete unknown; and neither wild horses, nor the deaths of great celebrities, could persuade him to change his mind.
1984年-2004年,在基斯·科尔克霍恩为《经济学人》工作的这20多年里,他从不提高声音说话。他不需要这样。他轻柔、谦恭、略带微笑的讲话风格使人们愿意聆听,就像听一个可爱的叔叔讲话一样。但是话语背后透着坚决。他会说,“我把你的稿子做了一两处处理”,意思是,稿子已经改成最简洁、最准确、标点最少的科尔克霍恩风格。当他宣布当周的逝者人选时,他会轻轻说,“我想做某某人”,通常是一个完全不为人知的名字;无论是野马,还是大明星的去世,都不能改变他的主意。
Keith came into journalism the old-fashioned way, through provincial papers and Fleet Street, but got as far as Hong Kong, where he worked for the Far Eastern Economic Review. He loved Asia, though his view of it was really that of a 19th-century colonial administrator. He had a soft spot for geishas. Of one correspondent, non-productive though enjoying a lavish retainer, he once remarked: “I think perhaps if we do not hear from him next year, we should send him a note.” Though no stripling, he would hunger to get to Siam, Sinkiang or Tartary. He developed a fondness for the Pacific islands, and actually found stories there.
基斯进入记者圈是那种很老套的方式,先在地方报纸做,然后进入伦敦报业街,但是他最远到了香港,供职于《远东经济评论》。他热爱亚洲,尽管他对亚洲的看法还像是一个19世纪的殖民地官员。他喜欢艺妓。他曾这样评论一个不出活却享受高价聘用金的记者:“我想也许这样,假如我们明年收不到他的信的话,我们应该给他寄一封。” 他虽然不是小伙子,却渴望去暹罗、新疆和鞑靼。他还对太平洋诸岛产生了兴趣,而且真的在那里找到了故事。
When he took over the Obituaries in 1995, just after their launch, he kept the Asian flag flying. He also set an extraordinary standard for clear, dry, witty writing. The openings of his Obituaries were a particular delight. “One of Walter Lini's minor pleasures was to get the better of the French.” “The achievement of Karl Kehrle, a Benedictine monk, was to breed a very decent British bee.” Or this:
就在“逝者”诞生后不久的1995年,他接手了这个栏目,并且一直高举亚洲大旗。他清晰、朴素、诙谐的写作风格树立了一个卓越的标准。他逝者文章的开头能带给读者一种特别的愉悦。“沃尔特·里尼的一个小乐趣是盖过法国人。” “本笃会修士卡尔·科赫尔的成就是培育一只品种非常优良的英国蜜蜂。” 或是下面这个:
Hunting around for something not too brutal to say about Tiny Rowland now that he is dead, those who knew him have remarked on his charm. The English language is helpful with the evasive word.
认识泰尼·罗兰的人在脑中搜寻他那些不是太过残酷之处——因为他已经不在了,他们于是说起了他的魅力。英语这种语言很会描述这个含糊的词。
It was an open secret, however, that Keith's dearest occupation was not The Economist. It was his own writing, at which he could be seen tapping eagerly for as long as he dared before boarding the homeward train to Mersea Island. He produced 11 blackly comic novels, the last of them (“Five Deadly Words”) this April. Those disarmed by his gentleness could never quite forget that in Keith's world guns would be suddenly drawn, blood spilt on the carpet and bullets lodged in a desk, “reducing its value a little should it ever come to auction.”
然而,基斯最钟爱的职业不是他在《经济学人》的工作——这是一个公开的秘密。他最爱的是为自己写作。你能看见他在登上回家乡莫西岛的火车之前,热切地敲着他自己的作品,直到该上车的最后一刻。他创作了11部黑色幽默小说,最后一部(《五个致命单词》)在今年四月出炉。那些被他的温和缴械的人从来不会忘记,在基斯的世界里,枪会突然被拔出,血会溢到地毯上,颗颗子弹会固着在桌子里,“假如哪天把这桌子拿去拍卖,价钱也就微折。”