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歐内斯特·海明威（Ernest Hemingway，1899—1961），美国小说家。海明威被誉为美利坚民族的精神丰碑，是“新闻体”小说的创始人。其写作风格以简洁著称，对美国文学及20世纪文学的发展有极深远的影响。1953年，他凭借《老人与海》获得普利策奖，1954年又获诺贝尔文学奖。《老人与海》（The Old Man and the Sea，1952）之外，海明威的其他代表作有：小说《太阳照常升起》（The Sun Also Rises，1926）、《永别了，武器》（A FareweH幻Arms，1929）、《丧钟为谁而呜》（For Whom the BeH ToHs，1940）以及短篇小说《雨中的猫》（Cat in the Rain，1925）、《在我们时代里》（In Our Time，1925）、《没有女人的男人》（ Men without Women，1927）、《乞力马扎罗的雪》 （The Snow of Kilimanjaro，1932）等。这位素有“文坛硬汉”之称的作家晚年却自杀身亡。
受在《堪城星报》做记者时的写作经历的影响，海明威的写作风格以惜墨如金著称，对美国文学及20世纪文学的发展有极为深远的影响。下面选的是海明威的短篇小说《雨中的猫》，其创作风格和海明威其他作品一样，文字简洁，很多东西作者都没有写出来，但读者却完全可以领会得到。
There were only two Americans stopping at the hotel. They did not know any of the people they passed on the stairs on their way to and from their room. Their room was on the second floor facing the sea. It also faced the public garden and the war monument. There were big palms and green benches in the public garden. In the good weather there was always an artist with his easel. Artists liked the way the palms grew and the bright colors of the hotels facing the gardens and the sea. talianS came from a long way off to look up at the war monument. It was made of bronze and glistened in the rain. It was raining. The rain dripped from the palm trees. Water stood in pools on the gravel paths. The sea broke ina long line in the rain and slipped back down the beach to come up and break again in a long line in the rain. The motor cars were gone from the square by the war monument. Across the square in the doorway of the cafe a waiter stood looking out at the empty square.
The American wife stood at the window looking out. Outside right under their window a cat was crouched under one of the dripping green tables. The cat was trying to make herself so compact that she would not be dripped on.
“I’m going down and get that kitty，”the American wife said. “I’ll do it，”her husband offered from the bed.
“No， I’II get it. The poor kitty out trying to keep dry under a table.”
The husband went on reading， lying propped up with the two pillows at the foot of the bed.
“Don’t get wet，”he said.
The wife went downstairs and the hotel owner stood up and bowed to her as she passed the office. His desk was at the far end of the office. He was an old man and very tall.
“I’m piove，”the wife said. She liked the hotel-keeper.
“Si， si， Signora， brutto tempo. It is very bad weather.”
He stood behind his desk in the far end of the dim room. The wife liked him. She liked the deadly serious way he received any complaints. She liked his dignity. She liked the way he wanted to serve her. She liked the way he felt about being a hotel-keeper. She liked his old， heavy face and big hands. Liking him she opened the door and looked out. It was raining harder. A man in a rubber cape was crossing the empty square to the cafe. The cat would be around to the right. Perhaps she could go along under the eaves. As she behind her. It was the maid who looked after their room.
“You must not get wet，”she smiled， speaking ItaIian. Of course， the hotel-keeper had sent her.
With the maid holding the umbrella over her， she walked along the gravel path until she was under their window. The table was there， washed bright green in the rain， but the cat was gone. She was suddenly disappointed. The maid looked up at her.
“Ha perduto qualque cosa， Signora？”
“There was a cat，”said the American girl.
“A cat？”
“Si， il gatto.”
“A cat？”the maid laughed.“A cat in the rain？”
“Yea，”she said， “under the table.”Then，“Oh， I wanted it so much. I wanted a kitty.”
When she talked English the maid’s face tightened.“Come， Signora，”she said.“We must get back inside. You will be wet.”
“I suppose so，”said the American girl.
They went back along the gravel path and passed in the door. The maid stayed outside to close the umbrella.
As the American girl passed the office， the padrone bowed from his desk. Something felt very small and tight inside the girl. The padrone made her feel very small and at the same time really important. She had a momentary feeling of being of supreme importance. She went on up the stairs. She opened the door of the room. George was on the bed， reading.
“Did you get the cat？”he asked， putting the book down.
“It was gone.”
“Wonder where it went to，”he said， resting his eyes from reading.
She sat down on the bed.
“I wanted it so much，”she said.“I don’t know why I wanted it so much. I wanted that poor kitty. It isn’t any fun to be a poor kitty out in the rain.”
George was reading again.
She went over and sat in front of the mirror of the dressing table looking at herself with the handglass. She studied her profile， first one side and then the other. Then she studied the back of her head and her neck.
“Don’t you think it would be a good idea if l let my hair grow out？”she asked， looking at her profile again.
George looked up and saw the back of her neck clipped close like a boy’s.
“I like it the way it is.”
“I get so tired of it，”she said. “I get so tired of looking like a boy.” George shifted his position in the bed. He hadn’t looked away from her since she stared to speak.
“You look pretty darn nice，”he said.
She laid the mirror down on the dresser and went over to the window and looked out. It was getting dark.
“I want to pull my hair back tight and smooth and make a big knot at the back that I can feel，”she said. “I want to have a kitty to sit on my lap and purr when I stroke her.”
“Yeah？”George said from the bed.
“And I want to eat at a table with my own silver and I want candles. And I want it to be spring and I want to brush my hair out in front of a mirror and I want a kitty and I want some new clothes.”
“Oh， shut up and get something to read，” George said. He was reading again.
His wife was looking out of the window. It was quite dark now and still raining in the palm trees.
“Anyway， I want a cat，”she said， “I want a cat. I want a cat now. If I can’t have long hair or any fun I can have a cat.”
George was not listening. He was reading his book. His wife looked out of the window where the light had come on in the square.
Someone knocked at the door.
“Avanti，”George said. He looked up from his book.
In the doorway stood the maid. She held a big tortoise-shell cat pressed tight against her and swung down against her body.
“Excuse me，”she said， “the padroneasked me to bring this for the Signora.”
旅館里，留宿的美国客人只有两个。他们打房间里出出进进，经过楼梯时，一路上碰到的人他们都不认识。他们的房间就在面对海的二楼。房间还面对公园和战争纪念碑。公园里有大棕榈树，绿色的长椅。天气好的时候，常常可以看到一个带着画架的艺术家。艺术家们都喜欢棕榈树那种长势，喜欢面对着公园和海的旅馆的那种鲜艳的色彩。意大利人老远赶来望着战争纪念碑。纪念碑是用青铜铸成的，在雨里闪闪发光。天正在下雨。雨水打棕榈树滴下来。石子路上有一潭潭的积水。海水夹着雨滚滚地冲了过来，又顺着海滩滑回去，再过一会儿，又夹着雨滚滚地冲过来。停在战争纪念碑旁边广场上的汽车都开走了。广场对面，一个侍者站在餐馆门口望着空荡荡的广场。
那个美国太太站在窗边眺望，外边，就在他们的窗子底下，一只猫蜷缩在一张水淋淌滴的绿色桌子下面。那只猫拼命要把身子缩紧，不让雨水滴着。
“我要下去捉那只小猫，”美国太太说。
“我去捉，”她丈夫从床上说。
“不，我去捉。外边那只可怜的小猫想躲在桌子底下，不让淋湿。”
做丈夫的继续在看书，他枕着垫得高高的两只枕头，躺在床脚那儿。
“别淋湿了，”他说。
太太下楼去，她走出办公室时，旅馆主人站起来，向她哈哈腰。主人的写字台就在办公室那一头。他是个老头，个子很高。
“下雨啦，”太太说。她喜欢这个旅馆老板。
“是，是，太太，坏天气。天气很不好。”
他站在昏暗的房间那一头的写字台后面。这个太太喜欢他。她喜欢他听到任何怨言时那种非常认真的态度。她喜欢他那庄严的态度。她喜欢他愿意为她效劳的态度。她喜欢他那觉得自己是个旅馆老板的态度。她喜欢他那张上了年纪而迟钝的脸和那一双大手。
她一面觉得喜欢他，一面打开了门，向外张望。雨下得更大了。有个披着橡胶披肩的人正穿过空荡荡的广场，向餐馆走去。那只猫大概就在右边附近。也许她可以沿着屋檐底下走去。正当她站在门口时，在她背后有一顶伞张开来。原来是那个打扫他们房间的侍女。
“一定不能让你淋湿，”她面呈笑容，用意大利语说。自然是那个旅馆老板差她来的。
她由侍女撑着伞遮住她，沿着石子路走到他们的窗底下。桌子就在那儿，在雨里给淋成鲜绿色，可是，那只猫不见了。她突然感到大失所望。那个侍女抬头望着她。 “您丢了什么东西啦，太太？”
“有一只猫，”年轻的美国太太说。
“猫？”
“是，猫。”
“猫？”侍女哈哈一笑。“在雨里的一只猫？”
“是呀，”她说，“在这桌子底下。”接着，“啊，我多么想要它。我要那只小猫。”
她说英语的时候，侍女的脸顿时绷紧起来。
“来，太太，”她说，“我们必须回到里面去，你要淋湿了。”
“我想是这样，”年轻的美国太太说。
她们沿着石子路走回去，进了门。侍女呆在外面，把伞收拢。美国太太经过办公室时，老板在写字台那边向她哈哈腰。太太心里感到有点儿无聊和尴尬。这个老板使她觉得自己十分无聊，同时又确实很了不起。她刹那间觉得自己极其了不起。她登上楼梯。她打开房门。乔治在床上看书。
“猫捉到啦？”他放下书本，问道。
“跑啦。”
“会跑到哪里去。”他说，不看书了，好休息一下眼睛。
她在床上坐下。
“我太想要那只猫了。”她说。“我不知道我干吗那么要那只猫。我要那只可怜的小猫。做一只呆在雨里的可怜的小猫，可不是什么有趣的事儿。”
乔治又在看书了。
她走过去，坐在梳妆台镜子前，拿着手镜照照自己。她端详一下自己的侧影，先看看这一边，又看看另一边。接着，她又端详一下后脑勺和脖子。
“要是我把头发留起来，你不认为这是个好主意吗？”她问道，又看看自己的侧影。
乔治抬起头来，看她的颈窝，像个男孩子那样，头发剪得很短。
“我喜欢这样子。”
“我可对它很厌腻了。”她说，“样子像个男孩子，叫我很厌腻了。”
乔治在床上换个姿势。打从她开始说话到如今，他眼睛一直没有离开过她。
“你真漂亮极了。”他说。
她把镜子放在梳妆台上，走到窗边，向外张望。天逐渐见黑了。
“我要把我的头发往后扎得又紧又光滑，在后脑勺扎个大结儿，可以让我摸摸。”她说。“我真要有一只小猫来坐在我膝头上，我一抚摩它，它就呜呜叫起来。”
“是吗？”乔治在床上说。
“我还要用自己的银器来吃饭，我要点上蜡烛。我还要现在是春天，我要对着镜子梳头，我要一只小猫，我要几件新衣服。”
“啊，住口，找点东西来看看吧。”乔治说。他又在看书了。
他妻子往窗外望。这会儿，天很黑了，雨仍在打着棕榈树。
“总之，我要一只貓，”她说，“我要一只猫，我现在要一只猫。要是我不能有长头发，也不能有任何有趣的东西，我总可以有只猫吧。”
乔治不在听她说话。他在看书。他妻子望着窗外，广场上已经上灯了。
有人在敲门。
“请进。”乔治说。他从书本上抬起眼来。
那个侍女站在门口，她紧抱着一只大玳瑁猫，卜笃放了下来。
“对不起，”她说，“老板要我把这只猫送来给太太。”
文章赏析
海明威的作品一向都是很男人风格的，塑造的人物也多是硬汉形象，这篇《雨中的猫》意外地充满了柔软的女性气质。海明威是个爱猫的人，这个短篇则以猫的形象传达出了女性在男权社会中的附属地位和女性渴望改变自身处境的强烈愿望。
故事很简单，一对年轻的美国夫妇到威尼斯度假，遭遇雨天。妻子发现窗外一只避雨的小猫，觉得可怜，决定去抱它进来，使它免遭雨淋。在这过程中丈夫一直躺着看书，有一搭没一搭地回应妻子的话。
故事的场景设定在一个湿漉漉的雨天，旅馆的光线也是昏暗不明，恰到好处地表现出了人物感情的疲软和倦意。妻子决定去捉淋雨的猫，丈夫嘴里说要替她去，却躺在那里丝毫没有要起来的意思。妻子没有捉到猫，回到房间，丈夫依然在看书，对妻子的话只是机械地做出一些回应。与旅馆老板和女侍者相比，这位丈夫对妻子显然缺乏应有的关注。妻子絮絮叨叨地说着想要有一只自己的猫，留长头发，用自己的银器吃饭之类的话，都是些琐屑的事，却反映出她对自己的婚姻和生活状态的不满，以及想改变的心态。
其实，最开始她之所以那么关注一只在窗外避雨的猫，在某种程度上就是因为她觉得那只猫的处境有几分像自己。猫被困在雨中，而她被困在男人的附属品这个身份中。她可怜猫其实是可怜她自己。她想去救猫其实是潜意识里想改变自己的处境，只是她自己或许并没有意识到这些。
受在《堪城星报》做记者时的写作经历的影响，海明威的写作风格以惜墨如金著称，对美国文学及20世纪文学的发展有极为深远的影响。下面选的是海明威的短篇小说《雨中的猫》，其创作风格和海明威其他作品一样，文字简洁，很多东西作者都没有写出来，但读者却完全可以领会得到。
There were only two Americans stopping at the hotel. They did not know any of the people they passed on the stairs on their way to and from their room. Their room was on the second floor facing the sea. It also faced the public garden and the war monument. There were big palms and green benches in the public garden. In the good weather there was always an artist with his easel. Artists liked the way the palms grew and the bright colors of the hotels facing the gardens and the sea. talianS came from a long way off to look up at the war monument. It was made of bronze and glistened in the rain. It was raining. The rain dripped from the palm trees. Water stood in pools on the gravel paths. The sea broke ina long line in the rain and slipped back down the beach to come up and break again in a long line in the rain. The motor cars were gone from the square by the war monument. Across the square in the doorway of the cafe a waiter stood looking out at the empty square.
The American wife stood at the window looking out. Outside right under their window a cat was crouched under one of the dripping green tables. The cat was trying to make herself so compact that she would not be dripped on.
“I’m going down and get that kitty，”the American wife said. “I’ll do it，”her husband offered from the bed.
“No， I’II get it. The poor kitty out trying to keep dry under a table.”
The husband went on reading， lying propped up with the two pillows at the foot of the bed.
“Don’t get wet，”he said.
The wife went downstairs and the hotel owner stood up and bowed to her as she passed the office. His desk was at the far end of the office. He was an old man and very tall.
“I’m piove，”the wife said. She liked the hotel-keeper.
“Si， si， Signora， brutto tempo. It is very bad weather.”
He stood behind his desk in the far end of the dim room. The wife liked him. She liked the deadly serious way he received any complaints. She liked his dignity. She liked the way he wanted to serve her. She liked the way he felt about being a hotel-keeper. She liked his old， heavy face and big hands. Liking him she opened the door and looked out. It was raining harder. A man in a rubber cape was crossing the empty square to the cafe. The cat would be around to the right. Perhaps she could go along under the eaves. As she behind her. It was the maid who looked after their room.
“You must not get wet，”she smiled， speaking ItaIian. Of course， the hotel-keeper had sent her.
With the maid holding the umbrella over her， she walked along the gravel path until she was under their window. The table was there， washed bright green in the rain， but the cat was gone. She was suddenly disappointed. The maid looked up at her.
“Ha perduto qualque cosa， Signora？”
“There was a cat，”said the American girl.
“A cat？”
“Si， il gatto.”
“A cat？”the maid laughed.“A cat in the rain？”
“Yea，”she said， “under the table.”Then，“Oh， I wanted it so much. I wanted a kitty.”
When she talked English the maid’s face tightened.“Come， Signora，”she said.“We must get back inside. You will be wet.”
“I suppose so，”said the American girl.
They went back along the gravel path and passed in the door. The maid stayed outside to close the umbrella.
As the American girl passed the office， the padrone bowed from his desk. Something felt very small and tight inside the girl. The padrone made her feel very small and at the same time really important. She had a momentary feeling of being of supreme importance. She went on up the stairs. She opened the door of the room. George was on the bed， reading.
“Did you get the cat？”he asked， putting the book down.
“It was gone.”
“Wonder where it went to，”he said， resting his eyes from reading.
She sat down on the bed.
“I wanted it so much，”she said.“I don’t know why I wanted it so much. I wanted that poor kitty. It isn’t any fun to be a poor kitty out in the rain.”
George was reading again.
She went over and sat in front of the mirror of the dressing table looking at herself with the handglass. She studied her profile， first one side and then the other. Then she studied the back of her head and her neck.
“Don’t you think it would be a good idea if l let my hair grow out？”she asked， looking at her profile again.
George looked up and saw the back of her neck clipped close like a boy’s.
“I like it the way it is.”
“I get so tired of it，”she said. “I get so tired of looking like a boy.” George shifted his position in the bed. He hadn’t looked away from her since she stared to speak.
“You look pretty darn nice，”he said.
She laid the mirror down on the dresser and went over to the window and looked out. It was getting dark.
“I want to pull my hair back tight and smooth and make a big knot at the back that I can feel，”she said. “I want to have a kitty to sit on my lap and purr when I stroke her.”
“Yeah？”George said from the bed.
“And I want to eat at a table with my own silver and I want candles. And I want it to be spring and I want to brush my hair out in front of a mirror and I want a kitty and I want some new clothes.”
“Oh， shut up and get something to read，” George said. He was reading again.
His wife was looking out of the window. It was quite dark now and still raining in the palm trees.
“Anyway， I want a cat，”she said， “I want a cat. I want a cat now. If I can’t have long hair or any fun I can have a cat.”
George was not listening. He was reading his book. His wife looked out of the window where the light had come on in the square.
Someone knocked at the door.
“Avanti，”George said. He looked up from his book.
In the doorway stood the maid. She held a big tortoise-shell cat pressed tight against her and swung down against her body.
“Excuse me，”she said， “the padroneasked me to bring this for the Signora.”
旅館里，留宿的美国客人只有两个。他们打房间里出出进进，经过楼梯时，一路上碰到的人他们都不认识。他们的房间就在面对海的二楼。房间还面对公园和战争纪念碑。公园里有大棕榈树，绿色的长椅。天气好的时候，常常可以看到一个带着画架的艺术家。艺术家们都喜欢棕榈树那种长势，喜欢面对着公园和海的旅馆的那种鲜艳的色彩。意大利人老远赶来望着战争纪念碑。纪念碑是用青铜铸成的，在雨里闪闪发光。天正在下雨。雨水打棕榈树滴下来。石子路上有一潭潭的积水。海水夹着雨滚滚地冲了过来，又顺着海滩滑回去，再过一会儿，又夹着雨滚滚地冲过来。停在战争纪念碑旁边广场上的汽车都开走了。广场对面，一个侍者站在餐馆门口望着空荡荡的广场。
那个美国太太站在窗边眺望，外边，就在他们的窗子底下，一只猫蜷缩在一张水淋淌滴的绿色桌子下面。那只猫拼命要把身子缩紧，不让雨水滴着。
“我要下去捉那只小猫，”美国太太说。
“我去捉，”她丈夫从床上说。
“不，我去捉。外边那只可怜的小猫想躲在桌子底下，不让淋湿。”
做丈夫的继续在看书，他枕着垫得高高的两只枕头，躺在床脚那儿。
“别淋湿了，”他说。
太太下楼去，她走出办公室时，旅馆主人站起来，向她哈哈腰。主人的写字台就在办公室那一头。他是个老头，个子很高。
“下雨啦，”太太说。她喜欢这个旅馆老板。
“是，是，太太，坏天气。天气很不好。”
他站在昏暗的房间那一头的写字台后面。这个太太喜欢他。她喜欢他听到任何怨言时那种非常认真的态度。她喜欢他那庄严的态度。她喜欢他愿意为她效劳的态度。她喜欢他那觉得自己是个旅馆老板的态度。她喜欢他那张上了年纪而迟钝的脸和那一双大手。
她一面觉得喜欢他，一面打开了门，向外张望。雨下得更大了。有个披着橡胶披肩的人正穿过空荡荡的广场，向餐馆走去。那只猫大概就在右边附近。也许她可以沿着屋檐底下走去。正当她站在门口时，在她背后有一顶伞张开来。原来是那个打扫他们房间的侍女。
“一定不能让你淋湿，”她面呈笑容，用意大利语说。自然是那个旅馆老板差她来的。
她由侍女撑着伞遮住她，沿着石子路走到他们的窗底下。桌子就在那儿，在雨里给淋成鲜绿色，可是，那只猫不见了。她突然感到大失所望。那个侍女抬头望着她。 “您丢了什么东西啦，太太？”
“有一只猫，”年轻的美国太太说。
“猫？”
“是，猫。”
“猫？”侍女哈哈一笑。“在雨里的一只猫？”
“是呀，”她说，“在这桌子底下。”接着，“啊，我多么想要它。我要那只小猫。”
她说英语的时候，侍女的脸顿时绷紧起来。
“来，太太，”她说，“我们必须回到里面去，你要淋湿了。”
“我想是这样，”年轻的美国太太说。
她们沿着石子路走回去，进了门。侍女呆在外面，把伞收拢。美国太太经过办公室时，老板在写字台那边向她哈哈腰。太太心里感到有点儿无聊和尴尬。这个老板使她觉得自己十分无聊，同时又确实很了不起。她刹那间觉得自己极其了不起。她登上楼梯。她打开房门。乔治在床上看书。
“猫捉到啦？”他放下书本，问道。
“跑啦。”
“会跑到哪里去。”他说，不看书了，好休息一下眼睛。
她在床上坐下。
“我太想要那只猫了。”她说。“我不知道我干吗那么要那只猫。我要那只可怜的小猫。做一只呆在雨里的可怜的小猫，可不是什么有趣的事儿。”
乔治又在看书了。
她走过去，坐在梳妆台镜子前，拿着手镜照照自己。她端详一下自己的侧影，先看看这一边，又看看另一边。接着，她又端详一下后脑勺和脖子。
“要是我把头发留起来，你不认为这是个好主意吗？”她问道，又看看自己的侧影。
乔治抬起头来，看她的颈窝，像个男孩子那样，头发剪得很短。
“我喜欢这样子。”
“我可对它很厌腻了。”她说，“样子像个男孩子，叫我很厌腻了。”
乔治在床上换个姿势。打从她开始说话到如今，他眼睛一直没有离开过她。
“你真漂亮极了。”他说。
她把镜子放在梳妆台上，走到窗边，向外张望。天逐渐见黑了。
“我要把我的头发往后扎得又紧又光滑，在后脑勺扎个大结儿，可以让我摸摸。”她说。“我真要有一只小猫来坐在我膝头上，我一抚摩它，它就呜呜叫起来。”
“是吗？”乔治在床上说。
“我还要用自己的银器来吃饭，我要点上蜡烛。我还要现在是春天，我要对着镜子梳头，我要一只小猫，我要几件新衣服。”
“啊，住口，找点东西来看看吧。”乔治说。他又在看书了。
他妻子往窗外望。这会儿，天很黑了，雨仍在打着棕榈树。
“总之，我要一只貓，”她说，“我要一只猫，我现在要一只猫。要是我不能有长头发，也不能有任何有趣的东西，我总可以有只猫吧。”
乔治不在听她说话。他在看书。他妻子望着窗外，广场上已经上灯了。
有人在敲门。
“请进。”乔治说。他从书本上抬起眼来。
那个侍女站在门口，她紧抱着一只大玳瑁猫，卜笃放了下来。
“对不起，”她说，“老板要我把这只猫送来给太太。”
文章赏析
海明威的作品一向都是很男人风格的，塑造的人物也多是硬汉形象，这篇《雨中的猫》意外地充满了柔软的女性气质。海明威是个爱猫的人，这个短篇则以猫的形象传达出了女性在男权社会中的附属地位和女性渴望改变自身处境的强烈愿望。
故事很简单，一对年轻的美国夫妇到威尼斯度假，遭遇雨天。妻子发现窗外一只避雨的小猫，觉得可怜，决定去抱它进来，使它免遭雨淋。在这过程中丈夫一直躺着看书，有一搭没一搭地回应妻子的话。
故事的场景设定在一个湿漉漉的雨天，旅馆的光线也是昏暗不明，恰到好处地表现出了人物感情的疲软和倦意。妻子决定去捉淋雨的猫，丈夫嘴里说要替她去，却躺在那里丝毫没有要起来的意思。妻子没有捉到猫，回到房间，丈夫依然在看书，对妻子的话只是机械地做出一些回应。与旅馆老板和女侍者相比，这位丈夫对妻子显然缺乏应有的关注。妻子絮絮叨叨地说着想要有一只自己的猫，留长头发，用自己的银器吃饭之类的话，都是些琐屑的事，却反映出她对自己的婚姻和生活状态的不满，以及想改变的心态。
其实，最开始她之所以那么关注一只在窗外避雨的猫，在某种程度上就是因为她觉得那只猫的处境有几分像自己。猫被困在雨中，而她被困在男人的附属品这个身份中。她可怜猫其实是可怜她自己。她想去救猫其实是潜意识里想改变自己的处境，只是她自己或许并没有意识到这些。