長眠紐約即將變得奢侈

德溫·凱利

In 1825， Jacob Bigelow， a doctor and botanist in Boston， Massachusetts， noticed that the many small church graveyards throughout the city were becoming overcrowded. A prescient man， Bigelow concocted a plan for a new cemetery on the outskirts of the city; one carpeted in flowers and designed to preserve natural beauty. After years of planning and lobbying wary townspeople， Mount Auburn Cemetery was founded in 1831， and Bostons mourners began packing picnic baskets and taking carriages out to the country to be with their recently deceased.

Though Mount Auburn owed a debt to European cemeteries built with similar intent， it was the first of its kind in the US， and soon a rural and garden cemetery movement took hold. Green-Wood Cemetery was founded in New York City in 1838， and in 1847， New York state passed the Rural Cemetery Act， which allowed churches and other entities to buy up tax-exempt land. Soon， New York City—and Queens especially， where more than double the number of people who live above ground are buried below it—was home to many sprawling cemeteries. The Evergreens. Cypress Hills. Calvary. The names go on.

I spent a few hours touring the grounds of Green-Wood with Jeff Richman， the cemeterys historian. The space is beautiful. Trees tower and curve and throw long spiralling shadows over tombs and headstones. It is redolent of wealth. Long-dead New Yorkers plotted an eternal rest in which they intended to occupy the same kind of space they demanded in life. Tombs became like houses， with wrought-iron fences and benches set in small gardens. Death for New Yorks richest came at a high price—in terms of both money and space.

During the tour， we passed Lot 44606， a benign stretch of ground dotted with burial markers. But， if you looked closer， you could see there used to be a road where these grave markers now stood. It looked too planned， like a new concrete condo in Brooklyn on a block of old brownstones1.

In a 2009 New York Times article， the cemeterys researcher Kestutis Demereckas told writer Michael Wilson how he found space for new graves at Green-Wood. After covering various old paths or roads with new bodies， he laboured over old maps， trying to find small spaces where new plots could be dug. According to the article， the cemetery was going to run out of space any day. Any day is arriving fast.

Richman said there was no limit to what the cemetery could do， whether by rearranging the grounds to make space for new arrivals or by talking with developers and trustees to rearrange the cemeterys vision to cater to new customers. What he did not say was that the cost of a single grave plot in Green-Wood starts at $19，000. Indeed， nearly every cemetery in New York City suffers from the problem of decreasing space for a number of dead that will continue to rise relentlessly. Plot prices are rising and in-ground burials at certain cemeteries， such as Trinity Cemetery in Manhattan， are no longer allowed.

Not long ago， I walked with Vincent Carbone， who owns Carbone Memorials， an independent memorial service in Brooklyn， as he went to check on a job in The Evergreens. In the midst of all this change， tradespeople like Carbone have almost stopped existing， left floundering in the wake of a memorialisation business that has become less centred around independent shops and more concentrated on bigger， cheaper， more efficient corporations. I watched two of his contractors sandblast a decorative set of hearts into a new headstone that nearly touched another headstone. Everywhere I looked， headstones stuck together like kids in line for recess. Somewhere in the distance， the Jackie Robinson Parkway hummed， jutting right up to the cemeterys expanse.

Almost every New Yorker will pass above， beneath， beside or through a cemetery at some point in their given day. We are prepositionally related to the dead. Not just the recent dead， either， and sometimes not even the real dead. When I attended Fordham University， there was a common myth about the on-campus cemetery， which contained just a few dozen graves： that school leaders constructed it to block a highway from being built through the campus， that there were no bodies in it. Like all myths， it felt just odd and right enough to be true.

In Soho in 1991， the city approved plans to build a $276m， 30-plus-storey federal building， before it found out that more than 400 bodies sat below it， in an old interment site known centuries ago as Negros Burial Ground2. Though the city continued to build the tower， it altered the design and gave the burial ground historical landmark status and， later， a memorial.

This wasnt， and isnt， a new problem for the city. Famous sites such as Washington Square Park， where many believe up to 20，000 people still lie buried in a potters field3 beneath its arch， and the Brooklyn Navy Yard all sit on old burial sites of poor， marginalised or disenfranchised groups.

And then， perhaps most eerily present， there is Hart Island， the small， barren plot of land viewable from City Island in the Bronx. Here， Rikers Island inmates are paid 50 cents an hour to bury the citys poor and unclaimed dead in trenches， not plots. Babies， fathers and mothers alike. Out there in the Long Island Sound， away from the citys view， inmates dig mass graves for people most people will never know lived. The forgotten， abused， cast-out and neg-lected bury the forgotten， abused， cast-out and neglected， away from the public eye. As if to add punishment to poverty， Hart Island cannot be accessed in the same way as a regular city cemetery. If， for example， a son wanted to visit his long-lost mother， who died in New York City， whose body went unclaimed， made an extended stay at a morgue， was operated on at a medical school and then found its way to Hart Island， that son would have to wait for the once-a-month family visit day. When he finally arrived on the island after a ferry ride， his mothers grave would be located via a trench number， and that trench shared with over a hundred other bodies.

I dont doubt that Jacob Bigelow wanted the best for the people and city he loved， that he wanted to create a space of beauty for people who craved solace. But now， almost two centuries later， the very cemeteries that Bigelow inspired are overcrowded and often overpriced. When I went to Green-Wood， I stood and looked out toward the Statue of Liberty and tried to imagine what used to decorate my field of vision： green hills rolling into the water before disappearing. The day I stood there， the city came right up to the cemeterys fence， and a group of union workers marched in a circle4 outside a business， striking for something they needed but werent being given.

When burial space does finally， inevitably run out， the bodies of New Yorkers who are marginalised， poor and disenfranchised—or even simply not rich—will be the ones spending eternity somewhere other than the city in which they lived. There will be no room for them. It will be a kind of gentrification5 of the dead.

When Carbone and I left the cemetery， he pointed at a mausoleum6.

“Trommer，” he said， indicating the family name on the tomb. “He used to own this brewery， straight ahead. It used to be right there.”

Carbone pointed right in front of us. Now， there was a Popeyes， a gas station. A block away there was Carbones memorial shop， clinging to survival， jammed underneath the rattle of a subway track. The city advances. The living need space， but what of our dead？

1825年，馬薩諸塞州波士頓城的一名醫生兼植物學家雅各布·比奇洛注意到當地許多小教堂墓地變得日益擁擠。他頗具先見之明，計劃在波士頓郊區打造一片繁花掩映的新墓地，旨在保護自然之美。經過多年的計劃以及對持謹慎態度的市民們的游說，奧本山公墓于1831年建成，波士頓的哀悼者們開始帶著野餐籃乘馬車去鄉下陪伴他們最近逝去的親友。

盡管奧本山公墓受許多歐洲同類型墓地的影響，但卻是美國第一個此類型的墓地。很快，鄉村與花園公墓運動興起。1838年，紐約市建成綠蔭公墓;紐約州于1847年通過了《鄉村公墓法》，允許教堂及其他實體大量購買免稅土地。不久，紐約市——尤其是皇后區，長眠于這片土地下的人數是生活在這里的人數的兩倍以上——擴建了許多墓地，例如常青樹公墓、賽普里斯山公墓、耶穌受難公墓等。

我曾隨史學工作者杰夫·里奇曼在綠蔭公墓參觀了幾個小時。這片空間很美，樹木拔地參天，曲曲折折，在墳頭與墓碑上投下一道道螺旋狀的陰影。這里彌漫著富有的氣息，逝去已久的紐約人當初為自己選定長眠之地就是希望死后能像生前一樣占據一塊體現身份之所。墳墓就變得像房子一樣，小花園中有固定在地面上的鑄鐵柵欄和長椅。對最富有的紐約人來說，死亡需要付出極大的代價——既體現在金錢上又體現在空間上。

參觀時，我們經過了44606號地段，這是一片自然宜人的土地，上面散布著墓碑。但如果仔細觀察，你會發現立著墓碑的地方曾經是一條道路。這看起來簡直是精心策劃的，如同布魯克林老褐砂石街區中一幢突兀的新混凝土公寓。

《紐約時報》2009年的一篇文章中，綠蔭公墓的研究員凱斯圖蒂斯·德梅雷卡斯告訴文章作者邁克爾·威爾遜自己如何在該墓地找到新的墳墓空間。起初，新的逝者不斷占據原有的小徑與道路，后來他開始潛心鉆研舊地圖，試圖發現一些小的空間來開辟為新的墓穴。文章指出，該公墓的空間早晚有一天將會用盡。這一天正在快速到來。

里奇曼稱，無論是重新安排場地為新逝者騰出空間，還是與開發商和受托人討論重新規劃公墓以迎合新顧客的需求，該墓地的用途都沒有受到限制。他并沒有提到綠蔭公墓中一塊墓穴的費用最低為1.9萬美元。確實，逝者人數會繼續不停地增長，幾乎每個紐約市的公墓都面臨著空間減少的問題。土地價格在上漲，一些墓地不再允許土葬，例如曼哈頓的三一公墓。

前不久，我和卡蓬殯葬服務公司老板文森特·卡蓬同行，當時他正前往常青樹公墓檢查工作。他是布魯克林區的一個獨立商人。墓地方面的所有變化使得卡蓬這樣的商人幾乎難以為繼、苦苦掙扎，因為殯葬行業越來越脫離獨立店面經營，逐漸轉向兼具規模性、實惠性及高效性的企業。我看著他的兩個承包人對著一塊新墓碑噴砂打磨出一組裝飾性的心形圖案，這塊墓碑幾乎緊挨著另一塊墓碑。四處望去，所有墓碑挨在一起，如同孩子們排隊等下課一般。遠處的杰基羅賓森公園大道車馬不息，一直延伸到這一片墓地。

幾乎每個紐約人都會在某一天的某個時刻穿過墓地，或從其上方、下方或旁邊經過。我們注定與逝者相關聯，不僅是新近的逝者，有時候甚至是非真實的逝者。我在福德漢姆大學讀書時，那里有一個關于校園墓地的傳說。傳說稱這個墓地只有幾十個墳墓，因為校領導建造該墓地是為了阻擋公路穿過校園，所以這里并沒有尸體。像所有的傳說一樣，這聽起來既奇怪又合理，感覺就像真的一樣。

1991年，紐約市計劃斥資2.76億美元在索霍區建立一棟30多層的聯邦大樓，之后卻在地下發現了400多具尸體，這個古老的埋葬點即幾個世紀前的黑人墳場。盡管建樓工程沒有停止，紐約市調整了建筑設計并賦予該墳場歷史遺址的地位，之后又為其建造了紀念碑。

對紐約來說，不管是過去還是現在，這都算不上新問題。一些著名景點如華盛頓廣場公園和布魯克林海軍造船廠就坐落在古老的埋葬點上，里面埋葬著窮困潦倒、被邊緣化或被剝奪權利的群體。許多人認為仍有多達2萬人埋葬在華盛頓廣場公園拱門下方。

接下來或許是最為怪異的地方：哈特島。這是一小片荒蕪的土地，從布朗克斯區的錫蒂島可以看到它。在這里，賴克斯島的囚犯以每小時50美分的薪酬挖深坑將城市中貧困以及無人認領的逝者埋葬，而不是葬在墓地中。不管是嬰童還是為人父母者，都以同樣的方式被埋葬。遠在城市視線之外的長島海灣，囚犯為逝者挖掘集體墓穴，大部分人將永遠不會知道這些逝者曾存于世。被遺忘、被虐待、被拋棄和被忽視之人埋葬同樣被遺忘、被虐待、被拋棄和被忽視之人，這一切都遠離公眾視線。就像要對貧窮另加懲罰一樣，哈特島并不像普通的城市公墓那樣可以正常進入。例如，一名母親死在紐約市，尸體無人認領，在停尸房多放了一段時間，后來遺體被醫學院用作研究，最后被送到哈特島。如果她的兒子想要祭拜失散很久的母親，他要等到每月一次的家人祭拜日。最終乘渡輪到達哈特島后，他要通過埋人坑編號找到母親的墓穴，而這個坑里同時埋葬著一百多具尸體。

我相信雅各布·比奇洛想為自己深愛的城市和人民提供最好的一切，他想為這些渴望慰藉的人們打造一片美麗的空間。但是幾乎兩個世紀過去了，比奇洛創想的公墓已變得擁擠不堪，同時經常面臨價格過高的問題。去綠蔭公墓時，我站著看向外面的自由女神像，努力想象曾經裝點視野的美好畫面：青山綠水相接。而那天站在那里時，我看到城市的盡頭是公墓的柵欄，一群工會工人在一家企業門外限定的圈子內游行維權，奮力爭取著自己需要卻得不到的東西。

當埋葬空間最終不可避免地用盡時，那些被邊緣化、窮困潦倒以及被剝奪權利的紐約人——或者甚至只是不算富有的紐約人——只能在自己城市以外的地方長眠。紐約并沒有他們的空間。這將帶來一種逝者的中產階層化。

我和卡蓬離開公墓時，他指了指一座陵墓。

“特羅默爾，”他說出這個墳墓上的姓氏，“他曾經經營前面一家啤酒廠，之前就在那里。”

卡蓬指向前面，現在那里是一家“卜派”加油站。一條街區之外就是卡蓬的殯葬服務公司，裹挾在地鐵軌道的嘎嘎聲中茍求生存。城市在發展，活著的人需要空間，但死去的人要何去何從？

（譯者為“《英語世界》杯”翻譯大賽獲獎者;單位：北京外國語大學）