經典科幻文學:《銀河系漫遊指南》第7章 Part 1

Chapter 7
Vogon poetry is of course the third worst in the Universe. The second worst is that of the Azagoths of Kria. During a recitation by their Poet Master Grunthos the Flatulent of his poem "Ode To A Small Lump of Green Putty I Found In My Armpit One Midsummer Morning" four of his audience died of internal haemorrhaging, and the President of the Mid-Galactic Arts Nobbling Council survived by gnawing one of his own legs off. Grunthos is reported to have been "disappointed" by the poem's reception, and was about to embark on a reading of his twelve-book epic entitled My Favourite Bathtime Gurgles when his own major intestine, in a desperate attempt to save life and civilization, leapt straight up through his neck and throttled his brain.
The very worst poetry of all perished along with its creator Paula Nancy Millstone Jennings of Greenbridge, Essex, England in the destruction of the planet Earth.
Prostetnic Vogon Jeltz smiled very slowly. This was done not so much for effect as because he was trying to remember the sequence of muscle movements. He had had a terribly therapeutic yell at his prisoners and was now feeling quite relaxed and ready for a little callousness.
The prisoners sat in Poetry Appreciation Chairs — strapped in. Vogons suffered no illusions as to the regard their works were generally held in. Their early attempts at composition had been part of bludgeoning insistence that they be accepted as a properly evolved and cultured race, but now the only thing that kept them going was sheer bloodymindedness.
The sweat stood out cold on Ford Prefect's brow, and slid round the electrodes strapped to his temples. These were attached to a battery of electronic equipment — imagery intensifiers, rhythmic modulators, alliterative residulators and simile dumpers — all designed to heighten the experience of the poem and make sure that not a single nuance of the poet's thought was lost.
Arthur Dent sat and quivered. He had no idea what he was in for, but he knew that he hadn't liked anything that had happened so far and didn't think things were likely to change.
The Vogon began to read — a fetid little passage of his own devising.

第七章
毫無疑問，沃貢詩歌是宇宙中第三糟糕的詩歌。第二糟糕的是克瑞爾星的阿茲歌德人的詩歌。在他們的詩歌大師、自負的格朗索斯朗誦他的詩作《關於一個盛夏清晨我在自己腋窩裏找到一小團綠色油灰的頌詩》的過程中，四名聽衆死於內出血，其中銀河系藝術詐騙委員會的主席在啃掉了自己的一條腿後才得以倖存。據報道，格朗索斯對這首詩的接受情況感到“失望”，於是正在着手準備朗誦他的12卷史詩《我最愛的洗澡時的汩汩水聲》。
最糟糕的詩歌則隨着它的創造者，英格蘭埃塞克斯郡綠橋的珀拉。南茜。彌爾斯頓。詹寧斯，在那顆叫做地球的行星毀滅時一起消亡了。
沃貢·傑爾茲慢慢地擠出一個笑容，不過不算太標準，因爲他需要努力去回憶臉部肌肉運動的順序。他已經衝着他的囚犯治療性地大喊了一通，現在感覺非常放鬆，準備好了展示一下自己的冷酷無情。
兩個囚犯坐在詩歌欣賞專座上——被皮帶綁着。考慮到他們的工作通常都受到嚴格約束，所以沃貢人基本上沒有幻想可言。他們寫作的最初嘗試是屬於某種自我強迫症的一部分——他們必須被接納爲一個充分進化、有文化的種族，但到了現在，維持寫作的惟一動力僅僅只是他們嗜血的殘忍心理。
冷汗沾在福特·普里弗克特的眉毛上，順着綁在他太陽穴上的電極打轉。這些電極直接連着一大堆電子設備——意象強化器、節奏調節器、音韻選擇器以及比喻傾瀉器，所有這些都是設計用來增強對詩歌的體驗的，以確保不會遺漏詩歌的任何一點兒細微思想。
阿瑟。登特坐着，不停地顫抖。他絲毫不知道接下來會發生什麼，但他知道迄今爲止所發生的一切都是他不喜歡的，並且事情似乎沒有任何改善的跡象。
沃貢人開始朗誦了——他自己創作的一段臭不可言的詩歌。