そのバーでウイスキーをのむ、そして本を読む、約二十ページ。しかし、なぜか、集中できなかった。
As I slowly sipped a whisky in the bar, I read about another 20 pages in the book. But for some reason, though, I couldn't concentrate on the reading there.
理由は、本が面白くないということでもなさそう。またバーの雰囲気が悪いとうことでもなさそう。
It wasn't simply because the book wasn't so interesting. And it doesn't mean the bar's atmosphere is uncomfortable, either.
たぶん、先刻から感じ続けている漠然とした違和感のせい。微妙なずれの意識があった。自分というコンテントが容れ物に合ってない。あるいはあるべき整合性がどこかの時点で損なわれてしまった、という感覚。ときどきそういうことがある。
It was probably due to a vague sense of discomfort I had been feeling. There was a delicate sense of gap. A sensation that the content of myself didn't fit the container. Or one that the conformity which should be there had been lost at some time. That kind of thing sometimes happens.
As I slowly sipped a whisky in the bar, I read about another 20 pages in the book. But for some reason, though, I couldn't concentrate on the reading there.
理由は、本が面白くないということでもなさそう。またバーの雰囲気が悪いとうことでもなさそう。
It wasn't simply because the book wasn't so interesting. And it doesn't mean the bar's atmosphere is uncomfortable, either.
たぶん、先刻から感じ続けている漠然とした違和感のせい。微妙なずれの意識があった。自分というコンテントが容れ物に合ってない。あるいはあるべき整合性がどこかの時点で損なわれてしまった、という感覚。ときどきそういうことがある。
It was probably due to a vague sense of discomfort I had been feeling. There was a delicate sense of gap. A sensation that the content of myself didn't fit the container. Or one that the conformity which should be there had been lost at some time. That kind of thing sometimes happens.
