我太聰明了以至於無法戒煙

I Was Too Clever to Quit Smoking
By SAM BYERS July 15, 2013
生活方式
我太聰明了以至於無法戒煙
SAM BYERS 2013年07月15日
One central paradox of the smoker’s life is that, despite swallowing an almost comically flagrant deception, most smokers like to regard themselves as pretty smart people. Step outside any bar or restaurant, nip around the back of a conference room at coffee time, and you’ll see them: a bitter huddle of smarter-than-thou smokers, shooting down society’s sacred cows. Want to know how many people died while exercising last year? Ask a smoker. Think smoking kills you? Think again. Every smoker you meet will tell you about their Aunt Jenny or Uncle Steve who sucked back 90 a day and lived to be 100, and even then died only because their houses fell on them. No delusion or hypocrisy escapes the smoker’s gaze. Except, of course, his own.
煙民生命中最核心的悖論就是：儘管接受了一個臭名遠揚到近乎可笑的騙局，但大多數煙民還覺得自己挺聰明的。從隨便什麼飯館、酒吧走出來，在茶敘時間來到會議室後面，你就能看見他們：一小撮憤憤不平，自以為比別人都聰明的煙民，抨擊着社會上不可輕易批評的事物。想知道去年有多少人是在鍛煉身體時死掉的嗎？去問煙民准沒錯。覺得吸煙危害生命？再想想看。你遇到的每個煙民都會告訴你，他們的詹妮阿姨或者史蒂夫叔叔每天抽90根煙，照樣活到100歲，就算死也是因為房子塌了。任何掩飾和虛偽都逃不過煙民的眼睛——當然，他自己的掩飾和虛偽除外。
I say this with some authority, because I was one. From the age of 17 to 32, despite herculean effort, I just couldn’t smoke enough to feel smoked out. The smoker in me, apparently the brains of the operation, sneered at my every self-improving effort.
我說這話是有點權威的，因為我自己就曾是煙民中的一員。從17歲到32歲，儘管付出了英勇的努力，我還是怎麼抽煙也抽不夠。我體內的那個吸煙者（顯然是掌管吸煙那部分功能的大腦）譏笑我所有自我改善的努力。
After I made several pitiable attempts to break free, it became clear that in order to give up smoking, I was going to have to give up being such a smart aleck. And what better way of achieving this than to give in to something I believed I was too smart for? The solution was obvious: I would humble myself through hypnosis.
經歷了若干次可憐的嘗試之後，我明白，為了戒煙，我顯然不能再當一個自作聰明的傢伙了。要達到這個目的，同時又不至於屈尊做什麼我覺得愚蠢不堪的事，有什麼更好的辦法嗎？解決方案很簡單：我得通過催眠來讓自己變得謙卑。

My session with Stella Knight (the name she uses professionally, she told me) took place at her home in Norfolk, England, on a white sofa in her bungalow’s front room. To the burbling accomp***nt of a CD called “Celestial Sanctity,” Stella started in with her patter.
我的治療是和史黛拉·奈特（Stella Knight，她告訴我她只在工作中使用這個名字）一起，在她位於英格蘭諾福克的家中完成的，我坐在她家平房前廳里的白色沙發上。伴隨着一張名叫《聖潔天穹》(Celestial Sanctity)CD里潺潺流水般的音樂，她以喋喋不休開始了工作。
“People think you have to be stupid to be hypnotized,” she said, “but it’s actually the opposite. The best people to hypnotize are the most intelligent ones. You’re going to be easy.”
「人們都覺得能被催眠的人都很笨，」她說，「但事實正相反。最容易被催眠的人都是最聰明的人。你會很容易進入狀態的。」
Aha! I thought. She’s at it already! Look how she boosted my self-esteem a little bit there. Very clever. But look how I spotted it too. Look how astute I am.
啊哈！我想。她已經開始工作了！看她！正在拍我馬屁呢。這一手很聰明嘛，不過已經被我識破了。瞧我多機靈。
Clearly, Stella had never encountered someone like me: so intelligent, so attuned to her every hypnotic deception, that he became as difficult to hypnotize as a stupid person.
顯然，史黛拉從來沒遇到過像我這樣的人：那麼聰明，對她那套催眠的騙局那麼敏感，她想像催眠別的蠢貨那樣催眠我，可沒那麼容易。
“Now close your eyes,” Stella said, “and imagine yourself eating a plate of human hair.”
 「現在閉上眼睛，」史黛拉說，「想像你在吃一盤人類的頭髮。」
Then the music changed to something trancy. She told me to count backward from 10. For some reason, I became terrified that she was taking her clothes off while I wasn’t looking. Was that the whisper of her jogging bottoms I could hear? I imagined myself coming to on the shag-pile carpet, a nude, beaming Stella beside me, sparking up a cigarette.
 然後音樂聲變得恍惚。她又讓我從10數到1。出於某種原因，我開始害怕她在我閉着眼睛的時候把衣服脫了。我聽見的是她穿的慢跑褲發出的聲音嗎？我想像自己變成了一塊粗毛地毯，史黛拉笑容可掬地躺在我身邊，一絲不掛，點着一支香煙。
“All done,” Stella said after what seemed like a few seconds (but was actually 20 minutes). I opened my eyes to see her sitting in an armchair opposite me, sparking up a cigarette.
 「結束了，」過了彷彿幾秒鐘之後，她說（事實上時間過去了20分鐘）。我睜開眼睛，看到她坐在我對面的扶手椅上，手裡是一支點燃的煙。
“Why are you lighting a cigarette?” I said, not quite masking the panic in my voice.
 「你為什麼點着煙？」我沒有完全掩飾住聲音里的驚恐。
“So you can say goodbye to it,” Stella said.
「這樣你就可以同它說再見了，」史黛拉說。
What a load of bunk, I thought as I stood outside her bungalow, 80 pounds (about $125) poorer and seemingly no less cocksure.
這都是什麼屁話。當我站在她家平房門外時，腰包里少了80鎊（約合125美元）鈔票，另外似乎自負也減少了幾分。
I had a packet of tobacco in my pocket (I had, of course, smoked heavily on the way over). I decided to take it out and think about having a cigarette, noting carefully my emotional response.
我口袋裡有一袋煙草（當然，我平時抽煙草也不少）。考慮到自己的情緒，我決定把它拿出來卷支煙。
The coughing fit that followed was both rapid in onset and utterly debilitating in effect. Within seconds, I was doubled over, leaning on Stella’s garden gnome for support, tears pouring down my face, cords of mucus unspooling from my nostrils and a noise rising up from my lungs that, even as I was *** it, disgusted me. This led to further gagging and wheezing, until ultimately, I ended up on my knees in supplication to the gnome, holding up what I hoped was a calming hand to the young mother across the street who, upon seeing me, warily swept her toddler into her arms.
隨之而來的一陣咳嗽來勢迅猛，讓我全身虛脫。幾秒鐘之內，我靠在史黛拉花園裡的小神雕像上縮成一團，滿臉是淚，鼻涕從鼻孔里可恥地湧出來，肺部響起一陣雜音——儘管這聲音是我自己弄出來的，但還是讓我覺得噁心。之後又是陣陣嘔吐和咳喘。最後我以祈禱的姿勢跪倒在那座小神像面前，舉手向馬路對面一位年輕母親示意，她在馬路對面看到我，就緊張地把嬰兒摟在懷裡，我希望自己的手勢能安撫她。
The fit lasted at least five excruciating minutes. At one point I realized my hand was in my mouth, trying to extract imaginary human hair from my windpipe. By the end I was exhausted and completely unable to imagine smoking for fear of triggering another bout of respiratory violence.
這陣痛苦的發作持續了5分鐘。我一度意識到自己把手塞進嘴裡，想從氣管里拽出那團想像中的頭髮。最後我精疲力盡，完全沒法想像抽煙這回事，只怕觸發又一通呼吸系統暴力大發作。
In the weeks that followed, this happened again, always when I ordinarily would have smoked. I took these episodes for what they clearly were: welcome reminders of my boundless susceptibility to suggestion, which, as any good hypnotist will tell you, is just another term for intelligence.
在接下來的幾周里，這種事再度發生，都是在我平時本該抽煙的時候。我了解這些插曲的清晰含義：它們隨時提醒我，我對於接受暗示有多麼敏感——當然任何好的催眠師都會告訴你，這是「聰明」的另一種說法。