Research paper submitted to the Faculty of Letters and Humanities Of Ain

Chock, Hassan II University, In partial fulfillment of requirements for

BA In Literary studies.

Women In Literature “ Translation “

ACADEMIC YEAR : 2022 – 2023

submitted by : KHALIL GHIZLAN supervised by : P.r BEN ABOU JAMILA.

GHABA AYA
 Dedication

We are dedicating this research paper to our beloved people who have
meant and continue to mean so much to us . Although they are no longer of
this world, their memories continue to regulate our life.
First and foremos to our parents who help us with their words of
encouragement . We also dedicate this work to our many friends who
have supported us with their advice all of the time . We will always
appreciate all they have done .
 Acknowledgments

We would like to thank all the professor of the English Department at

the Faculty of Letters and Humanities Of Ain Chock. We want to express our
heartfelt gratitude for our years of learning and growth with them as a
students. We have learned plenty of adaptive skills that we can utilize
throughout the rest of our life Thanks to you, we have been able to develop
our communication, critical thinking, and problem-solving skills .
Our grateful thanks belong to Professor BEN ABOU JAMILA , for her kind
help, comments, and valuable advice that she provided us throughout the
research paper .

Introduction
 An Ideal Family, by British author Katherine Mansfield, is a story about
change, appreciation, and awareness. It tells the story of an old, successful
businessman, Mr. Neave, who has put immense effort and dedication into his
business resulting in remarkable achievements. Mr. Neave's wife and daughters
hope he will retire and enjoy the fruits of his labor, as he has grown old and
deserves a rest. They wish for him to pass on his business to his son, Harold;
however, Mr. Neave is reluctant to do so, as he has poured his heart and soul
into his work and feels that Harold is not capable of running it correctly. Mr.
Neave's opinion is that one must give full dedication and effort to a business, or
it will crumble. Moreover, he feels that his children have no appreciation or
gratitude for his hard work over the passing years.
Concerning our motivations to translate the story, we can summarize them
in two specific reasons. Firstly, Catherine Mansfield shed light on the
psychological and emotional gap that can exist between parents and their
children, specifically between older and younger generations. She illustrated
this gap through the relationship between Mr. Neave and his children, which
was superficial and lacked communication and emotion.
Secondly , Katherine focuses in her story on Neave’s children deportment;
the way they take life in an easy way, without any seriousness and how just the
appearance of their handsome brother can impact their decisions. They feel
comfortable in their father's house and they forget how to be independent and
take responsibilities. This may be resulted by the way the parents educate their
children. This is important because this story presents an important part of our
society where we find such as deportment kids ... That's what motivates us to
translate this fictional story.

An Ideal Family by
 Katherine Mansfield

That evening for the first time in his life, as he pressed through the swing door
and descended the three broad steps to the pavement, old Mr. Neave felt he
was too old for the spring. Spring--warm, eager, restless--was there, waiting for
him in the golden light, ready in front of everybody to run up, to blow in his
white beard, to drag sweetly on his arm. And he couldn't meet her, no; he
couldn't square up once more and stride off, jaunty as a young man. He was
tired and, although the late sun was still shining, curiously cold, with a numbed
feeling all over. Quite suddenly he hadn't the energy, he hadn't the heart to
stand this gaiety and bright movement any longer; it confused him. He wanted
to stand still, to wave it away with his stick, to say, "Be off with you!" Suddenly
it was a terrible effort to greet as usual--tipping his wide-awake with his stick--
all the people whom he knew, the friends, acquaintances, shopkeepers,
postmen, drivers. But the gay glance that went with the gesture, the kindly
twinkle that seemed to say, "I'm a match and more for any of you"--that old Mr.
Neave could not manage at all. He stumped along, lifting his knees high as if he
were walking through air that had somehow grown heavy and solid like water.
And the homeward-looking crowd hurried by, the trams clanked, the light carts
clattered, the big swinging cabs bowled along with that reckless, defiant
indifference that one knows only in dreams...
It had been a day like other days at the office. Nothing special had happened.
Harold hadn't come back from lunch until close on four. Where had he been?
What had he been up to? He wasn't going to let his father know. Old Mr. Neave
had happened to be in the vestibule, saying goodbye to a caller, when Harold
sauntered in, perfectly turned out as usual, cool, suave, smiling that peculiar
little half-smile that women found so fascinating.
Ah, Harold was too handsome, too handsome by far; that had been the trouble
all along. No man had a right to such eyes, such lashes, and such lips; it was
uncanny. As for his mother, his sisters, and the servants, it
was not too much to say they made a young god of him; they worshipped
Harold, they forgave him everything; and he had needed some forgiving ever
since the time when he was thirteen and he had stolen his mother's purse,
taken the money, and hidden the purse in the cook's bedroom. Old Mr. Neave
struck sharply with his stick upon the pavement edge. But it wasn't only his
family who spoiled Harold, he reflected, it was everybody; he had only to look
and to smile, and down they went before him. So perhaps it wasn't to be
wondered at that he expected the office to carry on the tradition. H'm, h'm!
But it couldn't be done. No business--not even a successful, established, big
paying concern--could be played with. A man had either to put his whole heart
and soul into it, or it went all to pieces before his eyes...
And then Charlotte and the girls were always at him to make the whole thing
over to Harold, to retire, and to spend his time enjoying himself.
Enjoying himself! Old Mr. Neave stopped dead under a group of ancient
cabbage palms outside the Government buildings! Enjoying himself! The wind
of evening shook the dark leaves to a thin airy cackle. Sitting at home,
twiddling his thumbs, conscious all the while that his life's work was slipping
away, dissolving, disappearing through Harold's fine fingers, while Harold
smiled...

"Why will you be so unreasonable, father? There's absolutely no need for you
to go to the office. It only makes it very awkward for us when people persist in
saying how tired you're looking. Here's this huge house and garden. Surely you
could be happy in--in--appreciating it for a change. Or you could take up some
hobby."
And Lola the baby had chimed in loftily, "All men ought to have hobbies. It
makes life impossible if they haven't.
"Well, well! He couldn't help a grim smile as painfully he began to climb the hill
that led into Harcourt Avenue. Where would Lola and her sisters and Charlotte
be if he'd gone in for hobbies, he'd like to know? Hobbies couldn't pay for the
town house and the seaside bungalow, and their horses, and their golf, and the
sixty-guinea gramophone in the music room for them to dance to. Not that he
grudged them these things. No, they were smart, good-looking girls, and
Charlotte was a remarkable.
woman; it was natural for them to be in the swim. As a matter of fact, no other
house in the town was as popular as theirs; no other family entertained so
much. And how many times old Mr. Neave, pushing the cigar box across the
smoking-room table, had listened to praises of his wife, his girls, of himself
even.
"You're an ideal family, sir, an ideal family. It's like something one reads about
or sees on the stage."
"That's all right, my boy," old Mr. Neave would reply. "Try one of those; I think
you'll like them. And if you care to smoke in the garden, you'll find the girls on
the lawn, I dare say."
That was why the girls had never married, so people said. They could have
married anybody. But they had too good a time at home. They were too happy
together, the girls and Charlotte. H'm, h'm! Well, well. Perhaps so...
By this time he had walked the length of fashionable Harcourt Avenue; he had
reached the corner house, their house. The carriage gates were pushed back;
there were fresh marks of wheels on the drive. And then he faced the big
white-painted house, with its wide-open windows, its tulle curtains floating
outwards, its blue jars of hyacinths on the broad sills. On either side of the
carriage porch their hydrangeas--famous in the town--were coming into flower;
the pinkish, bluish masses of flower lay like light among the spreading leaves.
And somehow, it seemed to old Mr. Neave that the house and the flowers, and
even the fresh marks on the drive, were saying, "There is young life here. There
are girls--"
The hall, as always, was dusky with wraps, parasols, gloves, piled on the oak
chests. From the music-room sounded the piano, quick, loud and impatient.
Through the drawing-room door that was ajar voices floated.
“And were there ices?" came from Charlotte. Then the creak, creak of her
rocker.
"Ices!" cried Ethel. "My dear mother, you never saw such ices. Only two kinds.
And one a common little strawberry shop ice, in a sopping wet
frill."
"The food altogether was too appalling," came from Marion.
"Still, it's rather early for ices," said Charlotte easily.
"But why, if one has them at all ..." began Ethel.
"Oh, quite so, darling," crooned Charlotte.
Suddenly the music-room door opened and Lola dashed out. She started, she
nearly screamed, at the sight of old Mr. Neave.
"Gracious, father! What a fright you gave me! Have you just come home? Why
isn't Charles here to help you off with your coat? “Her cheeks were crimson
from playing, her eyes glittered, the hair fell over her forehead. And she
breathed as though she had come running through the dark and was
frightened. Old Mr. Neave stared at his youngest daughter; he felt he had never
seen her before. So that was Lola, was it? But she seemed to have forgotten
her father; it was not for him that she was waiting there. Now she put the tip of
her crumpled handkerchief between her teeth and tugged at it angrily. The
telephone rang. A-ah! Lola gave a cry like a sob and dashed past him. The door
of the telephone- room slammed, and at the same moment Charlotte called,
"Is that you, father?"
"You're tired again," said Charlotte reproachfully, and she stopped the rocker
and offered her warm plum-like cheek. Bright-haired Ethel pecked his beard,
Marion's lips brushed his ear.
"Did you walk back, father?" asked Charlotte. Yes, I walked home," said old Mr.
Neave, and he sank into one of the immense drawing-room chairs.
"But why didn't you take a cab?" said Ethel. "There are hundred of cabs about
at that time."
"My dear Ethel," cried Marion, "if father prefers to tire himself out, I really
don't see what business of ours it is to interfere."
"Children, children?" coaxed Charlotte.
But Marion wouldn't be stopped. "No, mother, you spoil father, and it's not
right. You ought to be stricter with him. He's very naughty." She laughed her
hard, bright laugh and patted her hair in a mirror. Strange! When she was a
little girl she had such a soft, hesitating voice; she had even stuttered, and now,
whatever she said--even if it was only "Jam, please, father"--it rang out as
though she were on the stage."
Did Harold leave the office before you, dear?" asked Charlotte, beginning to
rock again.
"I'm not sure," said Old Mr. Neave. "I'm not sure. I didn't see him after four
o'clock."
"He said--" began Charlotte.
But at that moment Ethel, who was twitching over the leaves of some paper or
other, ran to her mother and sank down beside her chair.
"There, you see," she cried. "That's what I mean, mummy. Yellow, with touches
of silver. Don't you agree?"
"Give it to me, love," said Charlotte. She fumbled for her tortoise-shell
spectacles and put them on, gave the page a little dab with her plump small
fingers, and pursed up her lips. "Very sweet!" she crooned vaguely; she looked
at Ethel over her spectacles. "But I shouldn't have the train. “Not the train!"
wailed Ethel tragically. "But the train's the whole point."
"Here, mother, let me decide." Marion snatched the paper playfully from
Charlotte. "I agree with mother," she cried triumphantly. "The train
overweights it."
Old Mr. Neave, forgotten, sank into the broad lap of his chair, and, dozing,
heard them as though he dreamed. There was no doubt about it, he was tired
out; he had lost his hold. Even Charlotte and the girls were too much for him
to-night. They were too...too...But all his drowsing brain could think of was--too
rich for him. And somewhere at the back of everything he was watching a little
withered ancient man climbing up endless flights of stairs. Who was he?
"I shan't dress to-night," he muttered.
"What do you say, father?"
"Eh, what, what?" Old Mr. Neave woke with a start and stared across at them.
"I shan't dress to-night," he repeated.
"But, father, we've got Lucile coming, and Henry Davenport, and Mrs. Teddie
Walker."
"It will look so very out of the picture."
"Don't you feel well, dear?"
"You needn't make any effort. What is Charles for?"
"But if you're really not up to it," Charlotte wavered.
"Very well! Very well!" Old Mr. Neave got up and went to join that little old
climbing fellow just as far as his dressing-room...
There young Charles was waiting for him. Carefully, as though everything
depended on it, he was tucking a towel round the hot-water can. Young Charles
had been a favourite of his ever since as a little red-faced boy he had come into
the house to look after the fires. Old Mr. Neave lowered himself into the cane
lounge by the window, stretched out his legs, and
made his little evening joke, "Dress him up, Charles!" And Charles, breathing
intensely and frowning, bent forward to take the pin out of his tie.
H'm, h'm! Well, well! It was pleasant by the open window, very pleasant--a fine
mild evening. They were cutting the grass on the tennis court below; he heard
the soft churr of the mower. Soon the girls would begin their tennis parties
again. And at the thought he seemed to hear Marion's voice ring out, "Good for
you, partner...Oh, played, partner...Oh, very nice indeed." Then Charlotte
calling from the veranda, "Where is Harold?" And Ethel, "He's certainly not
here, mother." And Charlotte's vague, "He said--"
Old Mr. Neave sighed, got up, and putting one hand under his beard, he took
the comb from young Charles, and carefully combed the white beard over.
Charles gave him a folded handkerchief, his watch and seals, and spectacle
case.
"That will do, my lad." The door shut, he sank back, he was alone...
And now that little ancient fellow was climbing down endless flights that led to
a glittering, gay dining-room. What legs he had! They were like a spider's--thin,
withered.
"You're an ideal family, sir, an ideal family."
But if that were true, why didn't Charlotte or the girls stop him? Why was he all
alone, climbing up and down? Where was Harold? Ah, it was no good expecting
anything from Harold. Down, down went the little old spider, and then, to his
horror, old Mr. Neave saw him slip past the dining-room and make for the
porch, the dark drive, the carriage gates, the office. Stop him, stop him,
somebody!
Old Mr. Neave started up. It was dark in his dressing-room; the window shone
pale. How long had he been asleep? He listened, and through the big, airy,
darkened house there floated far-away voices, far-away sounds. Perhaps, he
thought vaguely, he had been asleep for a long time. He'd been forgotten.
What had all this to do with him--this house and
Charlotte, the girls and Harold--what did he know about them? They were
strangers to him. Life had passed him by. Charlotte was not his wife. His
wife!
...A dark porch, half hidden by a passion-vine, that drooped sorrowful,
mournful, as though it understood. Small, warm arms were round his neck. A
face, little and pale, lifted to his, and a voice breathed, "Goodbye, my
treasure."
My treasure! "Good-bye, my treasure!" Which of them had spoken? Why had
they said good-bye? There had been some terrible mistake. She was his wife,
that little pale girl, and all the rest of his life had been a dream.Then the door
opened, and young Charles, standing in the light, put his hands by his side and
shouted like a young soldier, "Dinner is on the table, sir!"
"I'm coming, I'm coming," said old Mr. Neave.
 ‫‪.‬عائلة مثالية‬
‫في ذلك المساء وألول مرة في حياته ‪ ،‬عندما كان السيد العجوز‪ ،‬يعبر من خالل الباب المتأرجح لينزل‬
‫الدرجات الثالثة العريضة نحو الرصيف ‪ ،‬شعر السيد نيف انه كبر في السن عن فصل الربيع فصل‬
‫‪.‬الربيع الدافئ ‪ ،‬الشغوف‪ ،‬والقلق‬
‫كان ينتضره هناك في الضوء الذهبي‪ ،‬جاهًز ا أمام الجميع للركض ‪ ،‬والنفخ بلحيته البيضاء ‪،‬‬
‫‪.‬والمسح بلطف على ذراعه‬
‫لم يستطع مقابلتها‪ ،‬ال ؛ لم يستطع اإلنسجام مرة أخرى والخطى قدما بنشاط كما لو كان شابا ‪ ..‬كان‬
‫متعًبا ‪ ،‬وعلى الرغم من أن الشمس كانت ال تزال مشرقة ‪،‬اال انها كانت باردة بشكل غريب جعلته يشعر‬
‫بالخدر في كل مكان بجسده ‪ ،‬فجأة نفذت طاقته ‪ ،‬لم يعد قلبه يتحمل هذه الحركة المرحة والمبتهجة بعد‬
‫‪" .‬اآلن ؛ لقد أربكته‪ .‬أراد أن يقف ساكنًا ‪ ،‬ويلوح بعصاه ‪ ،‬ليقول‪" :‬ابتعد عني‬
‫فجأة أصبح األمر فضيعا الترحيبب بالناس اجهده مجددا ‪،‬لدرجة انه اصبح يتكأ على عكازه وهو‬
‫‪.‬مستيقظ‬
‫‪ .‬جميع الحاضرين الذين يعرفهم من األصدقاء ‪،‬المعارف ‪،‬أصحاب المتاجر‪ُ ،‬سعاة البريد و السائقين‬
‫كانوا ينضرون له بنضرة شفقة ‪ ،‬ولكن كان ينبعث من عينيه لمعان لطيف بدى وكانه يقول" أنا مثلكم‬
‫" وأفضل من اي واحد منك‬
‫لم يستطع السيد نيف العجوز التصرف على اإلطالق ‪ .‬تعثر فجأة ‪ ،‬ورفع ركبتيه عاليا كما لو كان‬
‫يمشي في الهواء الذي أصبح بطريقة ما ثقيال وصلبا مثل الماء‪ .‬وأسرع الحشد من حوله ‪،‬قعقعة الترام ‪،‬‬
‫أصوات العربات الخفيفة ‪ ،‬وسيارات األجرة المتأرجحة الكبيرة جنبا إلى جنب ب الالمباالة المتهورة‬
‫‪ ...‬والمتحدية التي ال يعرفها المرء إال في األحالم‬
‫لقد كان يوما مثل األيام األخرى في المكتب‪ .‬لم يحدث شيء خاص‪ .‬لم يعد هارولد من الغداء حتى‬
‫اإلغالق في الرابعة‪ .‬أين كان؟ ماذا كان يفعل؟ لم يكن ليخبر والده‪ .‬تصادف أن السيد العجوز نيف كان‬
‫في الدهليز ‪ ،‬يقول وداعا ألحد المتصلين ‪ ،‬عندما دخل هارولد ‪ ،‬وظهر بشكل مثالي كالمعتاد ‪ ،‬جذاب ‪،‬‬
‫‪.‬لطيف ‪ ،‬مبتسم تلك االبتسامة الصغيرة التي وجدتها النساء رائعة للغاية‬
‫آه ‪ ،‬كان هارولد وسيما جدا ‪ ،‬وسيما جدا إلى حد بعيد‪ .‬كانت هذه هي المشكلة طوال الوقت‪ .‬لم يكن ألي‬
‫إنسان الحق في مثل هذه العيون ومثل هذه الرموش ومثل هذه الشفاه‪ .‬كان غريبا‪ .‬أما أمه وأخواته‪.‬‬
‫والخدم‬
‫‪Page 2‬‬
‫ال يمكن القول سوى أنهم صنعوا منه إلًها صغيًر ا ؛ عبدوه وغفروا له كل شيء‪ .‬لقد حضي بالتسامح‬
‫منذ أن كان في الثالثة عشرة من عمره ‪ ،‬منذ ان سرق محفظة والدته ليأخذ المال الذي بداخلها ومن ثم‬
‫اخفاها في غرفة نوم الطاهي‪ .‬وفي حقيقة األمر لم تكن العائلة فقط من أفسدت هارولد ‪ ،‬كما قال ‪ ،‬بل‬
‫الجميع ساهم في ذالك ‪ .‬ضرب السيد نيف بحدة بعصاه على الرصيف وفكر أنه لم يكن لكل هذا أن‬
 ‫يحدث ‪ ،‬ال اعمال ‪،‬ال النجاح ال استقرار ‪ ،‬وال حتى األجر العالي ال يمكن ان يتحقق اال مع شخص‬
‫‪ .‬كرس قلبه و روحه لعمله ‪ .‬وإال فكل شيء سيتالشى امام عينيه‬
‫وبعد كل هذا‪ ،‬شارلوت والفتيات يلححن عليها دائما ب التقاعد وتسليم األعمال إلى هارولد في سبيل‬
‫!الراحة االستمتاع بوقته ‪ ،‬االستمتاع بوقته‬
‫ان يتوقف السيد نيف ‪ -‬بشكل فاقد للحياة‪ -‬تحت مجموعة من نخيل الملفوف القديم خارج المباني‬
‫الحكومية! ليستمتع بوقته ! هزت رياح المساء األوراق الداكنة لتتحول إلى نسمات هواء لطيفة ‪،‬او ان‬
‫يكون جالسا في منزله ‪ .‬يعبث ب ابهامه‪ ،‬وهو مدرًك ا طوال الوقت أن عمل وجهد حياته ينهار‪،‬‬
‫‪.‬يختفي‪ ،‬ويتالشى على يد هارولد ‪ ،‬واالبتسامة على وجهه‬ ‫‪.‬‬

‫انت غير معقول يا أبي؟ ليست هناك حاجة مطلًق ا لذهابك إلى المكتب‪ .‬هدا يجعلنا نشعر بحرج شديد "‬
‫عندما يستمر الناس في القول بانك تبدو متعب للغاية في الوقت الذي نمتلك فيه هذا المنزل الضخم‬
‫‪ .‬وحديقة واسعة حيث يمكنك الراحة والشعور بسعادة بممارسة بعض الهوايات‬
‫أضافت لوال الصغيرة بصوت عاٍل ‪ " ،‬يجب على كل مرء ان يمتلك هوايات ‪ ،‬فالحياة تبدو مستحيلة‬
‫‪ ".‬بدونها‬
‫حسنا حسنا ! لم يستطع السيد نيف احباط ابتسامة قاتمة نابعة من األلم الذي شعر به وهو يتسلق التل‬
‫‪.‬الذي يؤدي إلى شارع هاركورت‬ ‫‪.‬‬
‫فكر السيد نيف في مذا كان سيكون مصير لوال ‪،‬اخواتها‪ ،‬وتشارلوت لو انه ذهب خلف هواياته‪ ،‬في حين‬
‫ان الهوايات ال تستطيع دفع ثمن منزٍل وسط المدينة وال ثمن البنغل المطل على البحر‪ ،‬خيولهم ‪،‬لعبة‬
‫الجولف‪،‬وال حتى الجرامفون الستينى المتواجد بغرفة الموسيقى حتى يرقصوا على مسيقاه ‪.‬انه ال‬
‫‪ .‬يحسدهم على كل هذه األشياء‪ .‬لقد كّن فتيات ذكيات ‪ ،‬حسنات المظهر‪ ،‬وشارلوت كانت إمرأة رائعة‬
‫‪Page 3‬‬
‫انه لمن الطبعي ان يمتلكوا مسبحا ‪ ،‬في الواقع لم يحضي أي منزل آخر في البلدة بشعبية منزلهم ‪ ،‬ولم‬
‫تحظى اي عائلة اخرى بهذا القدر من االستمتاع بقدرهم ‪ .‬لدرجة ان السيد نيف كان دائما ما يسمع‬
‫عبارات المدح و الثناء عنه ‪،‬عن زوجته ‪ ،‬و بناته‬
‫انتم عائلة مثالية يا سيدي ‪ ،‬عائلة مثالية كا التي نقرا عنها في الروايات او التي نشاهدها في "‬
‫" المسرحيات‬
‫مد السيد نيف علبة السجائر الى مخاطبه في غرفة التدخين و أجابه " هذا صحيح يا بني ‪ ،‬خد جرب‬
‫واحدة من هده‪ .‬السجائر اعتقد انك ستحبها ‪ ،‬وإن كنت تود التدخين في الحديقة فستجد الفتيات هناك‪.‬‬
‫طالما قال الناس ان حياة الرفاهية والترف جعلتهن ال يفكرن في الزواج قط ‪ ،‬في الوقت الدي بإمكانهن‬
‫الزواج باي شخص‪ ،‬يحضين بوقت رائع ويعشن بسعادة رفقة والدتهم داخل البيت‪ .‬حسنا حسنا او ربما‬
‫‪ .‬كذالك‬
‫بحلول هذا الوقت كان قد سار على طول شارع هاركورت األنيق‪ .‬لقد وصل إلى الزاوية البيت ‪،‬‬
‫منزلهم‪ .‬تم دفع البوابة للخلف ؛ كانت هناك عالمات جديدة للعجالت على محرك األقراص‪ .‬واجه‬
 ‫السيد نيف المنزل الكبير المطلي باللون األبيض ‪ ،‬بنوافذه المفتوحة على مصراعيها ‪ ،‬وستائره‪.‬‬
‫المصنوعة من التولد المتأرجحة نحو الخارج ‪ ،‬والجرارة الزرقاء من الزنابق على العتبة الواسعة‪ .‬و‬
‫على جانبي رواق العربة ‪ ،‬كانت ُتْز هر زهور الكوبية ‪ -‬الشهيرة في المدينة اضافتا الى كتل األزهار‬
‫‪.‬الوردية المزرقة مثل الضوء‪ ،‬التي زرعت بين األوراق المتناثرة‬
‫وبطريقة ما ‪ ،‬بدا للسيد نيف العجوز أن المنزل والزهور ‪ ،‬وحتى العالمات الجديدة على السيارة ‪ ،‬كانت‬
‫"‪ ...‬تقول ‪" ،‬هناك حياة شابة هنا‪ .‬هناك فتيات‬
‫كانت القاعة ‪ ،‬كما هو الحال دائًم ا ‪ ،‬داكنة مع لفائف ومظالت وقفازات مكدسة على الصناديق‪.‬‬
‫المصنوعة من خشب البلوط‪ُ .‬سمَع صوت البيانو من غرفة الموسيقى ‪،‬سريًع ا ‪،‬صاخًبا ونفاد الصبر‪ .‬و‬
‫‪ :‬من خالل باب غرفة المعيشة الذي كان مواربا صدر صوت شارلوت وهي تقول‬
‫"وهل كان هناك مثلجات؟"‬
‫‪Page 4‬‬

‫صاحت ايثيل مثلجات ‪ ،‬امي العزيزة لم يسبق لك ان رايتي مثل هذا النوع من المثلجات يوجد منها‬
‫نوعان فقط ‪ :‬احداها عبارة عن مثلجات بسيطة ‪ ،‬مصنوعة من الفراولة المبللة بالماء المستعمل في‬
‫‪ .‬المحالت التجارية‬
‫‪.‬قال ماريو‪ :‬مجمال الطعام كان سيء للغاية‬
‫‪.‬اجابت شارلوت ‪:‬على الرغم من ذلك ال زال الوقت باكرا على تناول المثلجات‬
‫صاحت ايسل باعتراض ‪:‬ولكن ما المشكلة في ذلك يا امي‬
‫‪ .‬دندنت شارلوط اجابتا على تذمرها ‪ ،‬اوه حسنا‪ ،‬حسنا يا عزيزتي‬
‫فجاه ُف تح باب غرفه الموسيقى فخرجت منه لوال التي بدأت في الصراخ في وجه السيد نيف أبي‪ ،‬يا الهي‬
‫!يا لقد ارعبتني كثيرا هل عدت للتو الى المنزل؟ ولماذا تشارلز ليس برفقتك ليساعدك على خلع معطفك‬
‫كان أثر اللعب باٍد على هيأتها؛ خديها قرمزيان ‪ ،‬لمعة في عينيها وشعرها متساقٌط على جبينها ‪ .‬كانت‬
‫تتنفس بصعوبة كما لو أنها جاءت تجري بخوف في ظالم دامس‪ .‬حدق السيد نيف العجوز في ابنته‬
‫وشعر انه لم يرها من قبل احقا هذه هي لوال!! أليس كذلك لكن يبدو أنها نسيت والدها ألنه لم يكن‬
‫‪.‬الشخص الذي كانت تنتظره هناك‬
‫وضعت باوال طرفا من منديلها المتجعد بين أسنانها وشدته بغضب ‪ ،‬رن الهاتف فأطلقت صرخة مثل‬
‫نواح ‪،‬آه‪ ،‬واندفعت نحو غرفة الهاتف ثم اغلقت الباب بقوة ‪ .‬وفي الحظة ذاتها صاحت شارلوط " أهذا‬
‫" انت ايها األب‬
‫لتضيف بتوبيخ" لقد اتعبت نفسك مجددا ‪،‬هل عدت الى البيت سيرا على االقدام ؟" اجابها السيد نيف‬
‫العجوز بينما كان متجها للجلوس على احد الكراسي الضخمة الموجودة بغرفة الرسم "نعم لقد مشيا الى‬
‫‪".‬المنزل‬
‫‪Page 5‬‬
‫‪.‬قالت ايثيل ولكن لماذا لم تستقل سيارة أجرة لقد كان هناك المئات من سيارات االجرة في ذلك الوقت‬
‫صرخت ماريرون موجهتا كالمها الى شقيقتها‪ :‬عزيزتي ايثيل ان كان والدي يفضل ان يرهق نفسه فانا‬
‫‪.‬ارى أنه ال شئن لنا في ذلك‬
‫‪.‬يا اطفال‪ ،‬يا اطفال ‪ ،‬صاحت شارلوط في محاولة منها لتهدئة الوضع‬
‫رغم ذلك لم تتوقف ماريون وتابعت ال يا امي انت دللتي والدي كثيرا وهذا ليس بألمر الصائب يجب‬
‫‪..‬عليك ان تكوني صارمه معه قليال انه مشاغب كبير‬
‫ضحكت تشارلوت على كالمها وربثت على شعرها امام المرآة وقالت مخاطبًة نفسها إنه ألمر غريب‬
‫عندما كانت ماريون فتاة صغيره كانت ذا صوت ناعم ومتردد اما االن مهما قالت حتى ولو كان "ابي‬
‫‪..‬ارجوك ناولني المربى" يخرج صوتها رناًن ا كما لو أنها على خشبه مسرح‬
‫‪.‬اضافت شارلوت مخاطبة السيد نيف "هل غادر السيد هارولد المكتب قبلك يا عزيزي‬
‫‪ .‬اجاب السيد نيف "انا لست متأكدا‪ ،‬لست واثقا ألنني لم اره بعد الساعة الرابعة‬
‫إنه قال‪ "....‬كانت شارلوت على وشك قول شيء ما قبل ان تقاطعها ايثيل التي اتجهت نحوها وجلست"‬
‫بجانب كرسيها لتقول بينما كانت تقلب بعض اوراق الصفحات "اترين‪ ،‬هذا ما كنت اقصده يا امي اللون‬
‫‪".‬االصفر مع لمسات من الفضي اال توافقينني الراي‬
‫اجابتها تشارلوت اعطيني اياه يا حبيبتي‪ ،‬أخدت شارلوط الورقة‪ ،‬ثم تلمست نظارتها التي تشبه قوقعة‬
‫السلحفاة لتقوم بارتدائها‪ ،‬ثم رتبت على الصفحة بأناملها الصغيرة الممتلئة وواصلت شفتيها لتتمتم‪.‬‬
‫""لطيف جدا" ثم نظرت الى ايثيل من خالل نظارتها وقالت "ولكن ال ينبغي ان يكون هناك قطار‬
‫"ال قطار" انتحبت ايثيل بشكل مأساوي " ولكن القطار هو االساس‬
‫‪Page 6‬‬
‫انتزعت ماريون الورقة من يد والدتها بشكل هزلي وصاحت بنبرة غطى عليها طعم اإلنتصار " أنا اتفق‬
‫" مع والدتي ‪ ،‬القطار سيجعلها ثقيلة‬
‫غرق السيد نيف المنسي ‪ ،‬في حضن كرسيه العريض و كان يسمعهم كما لو انه في حلم ‪ ،‬ال شك في انه‬
‫‪.‬مرهق للغاية ‪ ،‬كما انه فقد قوته ‪ .‬حتى شارلوط و الفتيات اتعبنه كثيرا هذه الليلة ‪ ..‬اتعبنه كثيرا‬
‫لكن دماغه الحالم كان يفكر في جميع األشياء القيمة بنسبة له ‪ ،‬وفي مكان ما خلف كل هذه الضوضاء‬
‫كان يشاهد رجل عجوز ذابل ‪ ،‬وهو يتسلق درجات ال متناهية من الساللم‪ .‬فمن كان ذالك الرجل يا‬
‫ترى؟‬
‫" قال السيد نيف متمتما " أنا لن أرتدي مالبس الليلة‬
‫" مذا تقول يا ابي"‬
‫"استيقظ السيد نيف متذبذبا ‪ ،‬حدق بهم وكرر "لن ارتدي مالبس الليلة‬
‫" ولكن يا ابي لوسيل هنري ‪،‬دافنتوس والسيدة روكر قادمون الليلة سيبدو األمر غير الئق للغاية "‬
‫علقت شارلوت مخاطبة زوجها في محاولة منها لمعرفه اساس المشكلة "اال تشعر بانك على ما يرام يا‪.‬‬
‫‪.‬عزيزي‪ ،‬هذا لن يتطلب منك الكثير من الجهد ولكن ان كنت حقا ال تشعر بانك بخير‬
‫قاطعها السيد نيف قائال "بخير ‪،‬انا بخير ثم نهض لينضم الى زميله‪ ،‬الشاب تشارلز الذي كان في‪.‬‬
‫"انتظاره بغرفة تبديل المالبس‬
‫في غرفه المالبس حيث ينتظر تشارلز السيد نيف‪ ،‬بينما كان يلف منشفة حول وعاء الماء الساخن‬
‫‪.‬بحرص شديد كما لو ان كل شيء يعتمد على ذالك الِقدر‬
‫لطالما كان تشارلز الشخص المفضل لدى السيد نيف منذ ان كان طفال صغيرا ذي الوجه أحمر الذي‬
‫‪.‬أتى الي المنزل لترقب النار‬ ‫‪.‬‬
‫انحنى السيد نيف العجوز للجلوس على كرسي الشمعدان بجوار النافذة ‪ ،‬مد قدميه ‪ ،‬وبدأ بمزحته‬
‫" المسائية الصغيرة فقال مخاطبا تشارلز " البسه لي يا تشارلز‬
‫اقترب منه تشارلز منحنيا حيث كان يتنفس بقوة ‪ ،‬ووجهه غطى عليه العبوس ‪،‬ليبدا في ازالة الدبوس‬
‫من ربطة عنقه‬ ‫‪.‬‬

‫‪Page 7‬‬
‫جيد جدا جيدا جدا ؛ تمتم السيد نيف و هو يشاهد أجواء األمسية الطيبة و الظريفة باالستمتاع عبر النافذة‬
‫المفتوحة‪ ،‬حيث كانوا يقومون بتقليم عشب الملعب استعدادا االستئناف حفالت كرة المضرب مرة اخرى‬
‫التقطت اذانه صوت الجزازة الناعم ومن ثم جاءه صوت ماريون وهي تقول " هذا جيدا جدا لك يا‬
‫" شريكي‪،‬لعبت بشكل جيد بالفعل يا شريكي‬
‫"ومن الجانب اآلخر صاحت تشارلوط من الشرفة متسائلتا " أين هم هارولد و ايثيل ؟؟‬
‫‪ .‬لتجيبها ماريون " بتأكيد هو ليس هنا يا أمي‬
‫تنهد السيد نيف بحصرة ثم وقف وهو يمسح لحيتيه بيديه ليأخذ المشط من شارلز ويقوم بتمشيط لحيته‬
‫‪.‬البيضاء بعناية تامة ومن ثم قدم له منديله ‪،‬ساعته ‪،‬خاتمه و علبة نظاراته‬
‫! أحسنت الصنع يا فتى " قال مخاطبا تشارلز قبل أن يخطو خارجا ليغلق الباب و يتركه وحيدا"‬
‫واآلن ذهب الرجل العجوز يتسلق الدرجات الالمتناهية المؤدية إلى غرفة العشاء الالمعة ‪ ،‬كانت ساقاه‬
‫‪ .‬نحيلة للغاية ‪ ،‬من شدة نحالتها أصبحت تشبه ارجل العنكبوت‬
‫" انتم عائلة مثالية يا سيدي ‪ ،‬أنتم عائلة مثالية"‬
‫فكر السيد نيف ولكن لو كان هذا صحيحا لمذا لم يوقفه أحد ؟ زوجته تشارلوط و بناته لمذا تركوه وحيدا‪.‬‬
‫يتخبط صعودا و نزوال ؟ وحتى هارلود أين هو ؟ نتهد و فكر انه توقع شيء من هارلود لم يكن بالفكرة‬
‫‪.‬الصائبة‬
‫تابع العنكبوت الصغير المسير نحو مخاوفه ‪ ،‬رآه السيد نيف يتخطى غرفة العشاء ‪ ،‬واتجه نحو رشفة‬
‫‪.‬ومن ثم الى البوابة الرئيسة في جو ساد عليه الظالم و العتمة‬
‫! اوقفوه‪ ،‬أوقفوه‪ ،‬ليوقفه شخص ما"‬
‫‪Page 8‬‬
‫استيقظت السيد نيف العجوز في غرفته الخاصة بتبديل المالبس ‪ ،‬المعتمة ‪ ،‬كانت النافذة يشع منعا‬
‫ضوى خافت‪ .‬وفكر متسائال كم من الوقت مر وهو نائم ؟‬
‫وعبر المنزل الهوائي‪ ،‬المعتم الكبير ‪ ،‬صلت إلى مسمعه دبابات أصوات خافتة بعيدة ‪ ،‬ففكر بغموض انه‬
‫على األرجح بقي نائما لمدة طويلة‪ ،‬ربما ثم نسيانه ‪،‬فما عالقة كل هذا به ‪،‬هذا المنزل ‪،‬زوجته‪.‬‬
‫‪ .‬تشارلوط‪ ،‬البنات ‪ ،‬وهارد‪ ،‬مدا يعلم عنهم ؟ لطالما كانوا غرباء بنسبة له‬
‫! شارلوت لم تكن يوما قط بزوجة له ‪ ،‬زوجته‬
‫‪.‬شرفه مظلمه ‪ ،‬مخيفه نسبيا بواسطة زهرة العاطفة التي تبعث االلم والحزن على حسب تفكيره‬
‫ذراعان دافئتين احاطت رقبته‪ ،‬وجه صغير وشاحب رفع في وجهه وصوت الهث يقول "وداعا يا‬
‫"ثروتي‬
‫ثروتي وداعا يا ثروتي من منهم المتحدث ! ولماذا يطالب بالوداع؟ البد انه هناك خطا مرعب‪ .‬انها‬
‫‪ .‬كانت زوجته ‪ ،‬الفتاة ذات الوجه الشاحب ‪ ،‬و من ثم اصبحت بقية حياته عبارة عن حلم‬
‫ومن ثم فتح الباب وقف تشارلز الشاب في الضوء واضعا يديه على ناهديه ثم صرخ كجندي يافع‬
‫""العشاء على الطاولة يا سيدي‬
‫" اجابه السيد نيف العجوز " انا قادم ‪ ،‬انا قادم‬

‫‪Conclusion‬‬
‫‪Finally, we want to finish our research paper by giving our feedback‬‬
‫‪about this experience. First of all, we want to thank Professor BEN ABOU‬‬
‫‪JAMILA, who gave us this opportunity to challenge our capacity of translating.‬‬
‫‪Secondly, we want to emphasize that translating a short story from one‬‬
‫‪language to another is definitely a very challenging task; as it requires the‬‬
‫‪translator to have a deep understanding of both languages and cultures. It also‬‬
‫‪demands great attention to every single detail and being aware that words and‬‬
phrases can change or be lost in the translation. Indeed, translating one of the
best short stories of the great author Catherine Memphis was not easy and we
faced some difficulties in understanding some words and phrases. However, we
managed to finish our paper, thanks to the assistance of our professor who was
providing us with her feedback and advice that made us do all necessary
changes to enhance the quality of our paper.