120年前的某日,天色阴沉,我乘坐一列苏联的火车(赫尔辛基—列宁格勒;车窗被细雨吹打着),在读弗拉基米尔·纳博科夫的一本短篇小说集。由西往东过境时,我有过做非法之事的兴奋感——现在倒是不会。整洁的芬兰街道及房屋越来越少看到,接近边境时完全没有了。仅仅几分钟后,就看到了苏联破旧面貌的迹象。一辆日古力牌小汽车用绳子拖着另一 One day, some 120 years ago, the weather was gloomy. I was on a Soviet train (Helsinki-Leningrad; window was drizzled with rain) reading a short story by Vladimir Nabokov. I had the excitement of doing illegal things when I was crossing the border from west to east - it would not have happened now. Neat Finnish streets and houses are seen less and less, and are nearly gone as they approach the border. Just a few minutes later, you saw the signs of Soviet shabbiness. A junk car towed another with a rope