《芒果街上的小屋》 一本優美純凈的小書，一本“詩小說”。由幾十個短篇組成，語言清澈如流水，點綴著零落的韻腳和新奇的譬喻，如一首首長歌短調，各自成韻，又彼此鉤連，匯聚出一個清晰世界，各樣雜沓人生。所有的講述都歸于一個敘述中心：居住在芝加哥拉美移民社區芒果街上的女孩埃斯佩朗莎。生就對弱的同情心和對美的感覺力，她用清澈的眼打量周圍的世界，用美麗稚嫩的語言講述成長、滄桑、生命的美好與不易和年輕的熱望與夢想，夢想有一所自己的房子，夢想在寫作中追尋自我，獲得自由和幫助別人的能力。

Born Bad （2）

But I think diseases have no eyes. They pick with a dizzy finger anyone, just anyone. Like my aunt who happened to be walking down the street one day in her Joan Crawford dress, in her funny felt hat with the black feather, cousin Totchy in one hand, baby Frank in the other.

Sometimes you get used to the sick and sometimes the sickness, if it is there too long, gets to seem normal. This is how it was with her, and maybe this is why we chose her.

It was a game, that's all. It was the game we played every afternoon ever since that day one of us invented it. I can't remember who. I think it was me. You had to pick somebody.

You had to think of someone everybody knew. Someone you could imitate and everyone else would have to guess who it was. It started out with famous people: Wonder Woman, the Beatles, Marilyn Monroe... But then somebody thought it'd be better if we changed the game a little, if we pretended we were Mr. Benny, or his wife Blanca, or Ruthie, or anybody we knew.

I don't know why we picked her. Maybe we were bored that day. Maybe we got tired. We liked my aunt. She listened to our stories. She always asked us to come back. Lucy, me, Rachel. I hated to go there alone. The six blocks to the dark apartment, second-floor rear building where sunlight never came, and what did it matter? My aunt was blind by then. She never saw the dirty dishes in the sink. She couldn't see the ceilings dusty with flies, the ugly maroon walls, the bottles and sticky spoons. I can't forget the smell. Like sticky capsules filled with jelly. My aunt, a little oyster, a little piece of meat on an open shell for us to look at. Hello, hello. As if she had fallen into a well.

I took my library books to her house. I read her stories. I liked the book The Water Babies. She liked it too. I never knew how sick she was until that day I tried to show her one of the pictures in the book, a beautiful color picture of the water babies swimming in the sea. I held the book up to her face. I can't see it, she said, I'm blind. And then I was ashamed.

生辰不吉(2)

我想疾病沒有眼睛。它們昏亂的指頭會挑到任何人，任何人。比如我的嬸嬸，那天正好走在街上的嬸嬸，穿著瓊·克勞馥式裙子，戴著綴有黑羽毛的、滑稽的氈帽，一只手里是表弟托奇，一只手里是寶寶弗蘭克。

有時你會習慣病人，有時你會習慣疾病，如果病得太久，也就習以為常了。她的情況就是這樣。或者這就是我們選擇她的原因。

那是一個游戲。僅此而已。我們每天下午都玩的游戲，自從某天我們中的一個發明了它。我不記得是誰，我想那是我。

你得挑選一個人。你得想出大家都知道的一個人，一個你可以模仿，而別人都能猜出來的人。先是那些名人：神奇女俠 、披頭士、瑪麗蓮?夢露……后來有人認為我們稍稍改變一下，如果我們假裝自己是賓尼先生、或者他的妻子布蘭卡，或者鷺鷥兒，或者別的我們認識的人，游戲會好玩點。

我不知道我們為什么挑選了她。也許那天我們很無聊。也許我們累了。我們喜歡我們的嬸嬸。她會聽我們講故事。她經常求我們再來。露西、我和拉切爾。我討厭一個人去那里。走六個街區才到那昏暗的公寓，陽光從不會照射到的二層樓背面的房子，可那有什么關系？我嬸嬸那時已經瞎了。她從來看不見水池里的臟碗碟。她看不到落滿灰塵和蒼蠅的天花板。難看的醬色墻壁，瓶瓶罐罐和黏膩的茶勺。我無法忘記那里的氣味。就像黏黏的膠囊注滿了凍糊糊。我嬸嬸，一瓣小牡蠣，一團小肉，躺在打開的殼上，供我們觀看。喂，喂。她好像掉在一口深井里。

我把圖書館借的書帶到她家里。我給她讀故事。我喜歡《水孩子》 這本書。她也喜歡。我從來不知道她病得有多重，直到那天我想要指給她看書里的一幅畫，美麗的畫，水孩子在大海中游泳。我把書舉到她眼前。我看不到。她說。我瞎了。我心里便很愧疚。