SOMETHING
“I WANT to be something！”said the eldest of five brothers．“I want to be of use in the world．I don't care how humble my position may be in society，if I only effect some good，for that will really be something．I'll make bricks，for they are quite indispensable things，and then I shall truly have done something．”
“But that something will not be enough！”quoth the second brother．“What you intend doing is just as much as nothing at all．It is journeyman's work，and can be done by a machine．No，I would rather be a bricklayer at once，for that is something real；and that's what I will be．That brings rank：as a bricklayer one belongs to a guild，and is a citizen，and has one's own flag and one's own house of call．Yes，and if all goes well，I will keep journeymen．I shall become a master bricklayer，and my wife will be a master's wife—that is what I call something．”
“That's nothing at all！”said the third．“That is outside of the classes，and there are many of those in a town that stand far above the mere master artisan．You may be an honest man；but as a‘master’ you will after all only belong to those who are ranked among common men．I know something better than that．I will be an architect，and will thus enter into the territory of art and speculation．I shall be reckoned among those who stand high in point of intellect．I must begin at the bottom—I may as well say it straight out；so I must begin as a car－penter's apprentice，and must go about with a cap，though I am accustomed to wear a silk hat．I shall have to fetch beer and spirits for the common journeymen，and they will call me‘thou’，and that is insulting！But I shall imagine to myself that the whole thing is only act－in，and a kind of masquerade．Tomorrow—that is to say，when I have served my time—I shall go my own way，and the others will be nothing to me．I shall go to the academy，and get instructions in drawing，and shall be called an architect．That's something！I may get to be called‘sir’，and even‘worshipful sir’，or even get a handle at the front or at the back of my name，and shall go on building and building，just as those before me have built．That will always be a thing to remember，and that's what I call something！”
“But I don't care at all for that something，”said the fourth．“I won't sail in the wake of others，and be a copyist．I will be a genius，and will stand up greater than all the rest of you together．I shall be the creator of a new style，and will give the plan of a building suitable to the climate and the material of the country，for the nationality of the people，for the development of the age—and an additional story for my own genius．”
“But supposing the climate and the material are bad，”said the fifth，“that would be a disastrous circumstance，for these two exert a great influence！Nationality，moreover，may expand itself until it becomes affectation，and the development of the century may run wild with your work，as youth often runs wild．I can quite well see that none of you will be anything real，however much you may believe in yourselves．But，do what you like，I will not resemble you：I shall keep on the outside of things，and criticize whatever you produce．To every work there is attached something that is not right；and I will ferret that out and find fault with it；and that will be doing something！”
And he kept his word；and everybody said concern－in this fifth brother，“There is certainly something in him；he has a good head，but he does nothing．”And by that very means they thought something of him！
Now，you see，this is only a little story；but it will never end so long as the world lasts．
But did nothing further come of the five brothers？For this was nothing at all．
Listen，it is a story in itself．
The eldest brother，who made bricks，became aware that every brick，when it was finished，produced for him a little coin，only of copper；but many copper pennies laid one upon the other can become a shining dollar；and wherever one knocks with such a dollar in one's hand，wherever at the baker's，or the butcher's，or the tailor's —wherever it may be，the door flies open，and one gets what one wants．You see，that is what comes of bricks．Some certainly went to pieces，or broke in two，but there was a use even for these．
On the sea-dyke，Margaret，the poor woman，wished to build herself a little house．All the faulty bricks were given to her，and a few perfect ones into the bargain，for the eldest brother was a good-natured man，though he certainly did not achieve anything beyond the manufacture of bricks．The poor woman put together the house for herself．It was little and narrow，and the single window was guite crooked．The door was too low，and the thatched roof might have shown better wordmanship．But after all it was a shelter；and from the little house you could look far across the sea，whose waves broke vainly against the dyke．The salt billows spurted their spray over the whole house，which was still standing when he who had given the bricks was dead and gone．
The second brother knew better how to build a wall，for he had served an apprenticeship to it．When he had served his time and passed his examination，he packed his knapsack and sang the journeyman's song：
While I am young I'll wander，
from place to place I'll roam，
And everywhere build houses，
until I come back home；
And youth will give me courage，
and my true love won't forget：
Hurrah then for a workman's life！
I'll be a master yet！
And he carried his idea into effect．When he had come home and become a master，he built one house after another in the town．He built a whole street；and when the street was finished and had become an ornament to the place，the houses built a house for him in return，that was to be his own．But how can houses build a house？If yon ask them they will not answer you，but people will answer，and say，“Certainly，it was the street that built his house for him．”It was little，and the floor was covered with clay；but when he danced with his bride upon this clay floor，it became polished oak；and from every stone in the wall sprang forth a flower，and the room was gay，as if with the costliest paperhanger's work．It was a pretty house，and in it lives a happy pair．The flag of the guild fluttered before the house，and the journeymen and apprentices shouted hurrah！Yes，that was something！And at last he died；and that was something too．
Now came the architect，the third brother，who had been at first a caroenter's apprentice，had worn a cap，and served as an errand boy，but had afterwards gone to the academy，and risen to become an architect，and to be called“honoured sir．”Yes，if the houses of the street had built a house for the brother who had become a bricklayer，the street now received its name from the architect，and the handsomest house in it became his．That was something，and he，was something；and he had a long title before and after his name．His children were called genteel children，and when he died his widow was“a widow of rank”，and that is something！—and his name always remained at the corner of the street，and lived on in the mouth of every one as the street's name—and that was something！
Now came the genius，the fourth brother，who wanted to invent something new and original，and an additional story on the top of it．But the top story tumbled down，and he came tumbling down with it，and broke his neck．Nevertheless he had a splendid funeral，with guild flags and music，poems in the papers，and flowers strewn on the paving-stones in the street；and three funeral orations were held over him，each one longer than the last，which would have rejoiced him greatly，for he was always fond of being talked about；a monument also was erected over his grave．It was only one story high，but that is always something．
Now he was dead，like the three other brothers；but the last，the one who was a critic，outlived them all：and that was quite right，for by this means he got the last word，and it was of great importance to him to have the last word．The people always said he had a good head of his own．At last his hour came，and he died，and came to the gates of Paradise．Souls always enter there two and two，and he came up with another soul that wanted to get into Paradise too；and who should this be but old Dame Margaret from the house upon the sea wall．
“I suppose this is done for the sake of contrast，that I and this wretched soul should arrive here at exactly the same time，”said the critic．“Pray，who are you，my good woman？”he asked．“Do you want to get in here too？”
And the old woman curtsied as well as she could：she thought it must be St．Peter himself talking to her．
“I'm a poor old woman of a very humble family，”she replied．“I'm old Margaret that lived in the house on the sea wall．”
“Well，and what have you done？What have you accomplished down there？”
“I have really accomplished nothing at all in the world：nothing that can open the door for me here．It would be a real mercy to allow me to slip in through the gate．”
“In what manner did you leave the world？”asked he，just for the sake of saying something；for it was wearisome work standing there and waiting．
“Why，I really don't know how I left it．I was sick and poorly during my last years，and could not well bear creeping out of bed，and going out suddenly into the frost and cold．It was a hard winter，but I have got out of it all now．For a few days the weather was quite calm，but very cold，as your honour must very well know．The sea was covered with ice as far as one could look．All the people from the town walked out upon the ice，and I think they said there was a dance there，and skating．There was beautiful music and a great feast there too；the sound came into my poor little room，where I lay ill．And it was towards evening；the moon had risen，but was not yet in its full splendour；I looked from my bed out over the wide sea，and far off，just where the sea and sky join，a strange white cloud came up．I lay looking at the cloud，and I saw a little black spot in the middle of it，that grew larger and larger；and now I knew what it meant，for I am old and experienced，though this token is not often seen．I knew it，and a shuddering came upon me．Twice in my life I have seen the same thing；and I knew there would be an awful tempest，and a spring flood，which would overwhelm the poor people who were now drinking and dancing and rejoicing—young and old，the whole town had issued fofth：who was to warn them，if no one saw what was coming yonder，or knew，as I did，what it meant？I was dreadfully alarmed，and felt more lively than I had done for a long time．I crept out of bed，and got to the window，but could not crawl farther，I was so exhausted．But I managed to open the window．I saw the people outside running and jumping about on the ice；I could see the beautiful flags that waved in the wind．I heard the boys shouting‘hurrah！’and the servant men and maids singing．There were all kinds of merriment go-in on．But the white cloud with the black spot rose higher and higher！I cried out as loud as I could，but no one heard me；I was too far from the people．Soon the storm would burst，and the ice would break，and all who were upon it would be lost without remedy．They could not hear me，and I could not come out to them．Oh，if I could only bring them ashore！Then kind Heaven inspired me with the thought of setting fire to my bed，and rather to let the house burn down，than that all those people should perish so miserably．I succeeded in lighting up a beacon for them．The red flame blazed up on high，and I escaped out of the door，but fell down exhausted on the threshold，and could get no farther．The flames rushed out towards me，flickered through the window，and rose high above the roof．All the people on the ice yonder be－held it，and ran as fast as they could，to give aid to a poor old woman who，they thought，was being burned to death．Not one remained behind．I heard them coming；but I also became aware of a rushing sound in the air；I heard a rumbling like the sound of heavy artillery；the spring flood was lifting the covering of ice，which broke in pieces．But the people succeeded in reaching the sea wall where the sparks were flying over me—I saved them all！But I fancy I could not bear the cold and the fright，and so I came up here to the gates of Paradise．I am told they are opened to poor creatures like me—and now I have no house left down upon the dyke：not that I think this will give me admission here．
Then the gates of heaven were opened，and the angel led the old woman in．She left a straw behind her，a straw that had been in her bed when she set it on fire to save the lives of many；and this straw had been changed into the purest gold—into gold that grew and grew，and spread out into beauteous leaves and flowers．
“Look，this is what the poor woman brought，”said the angel to the critic．“What dost thou bring？I know that thou hast accomplished nothing—thou hast not made so much as a single brick．Ah，if thou couldst only re－turn，and effect at least as much as that！Probably the brick，when thou hadst made it，would not be worth much；but if it were made with a good will，it would at least be something．But thou canst not go back，and I can do nothing for the！”
Then the poor soul，the old dame who had lived on the dyke，put in a petition for him．She said，
“His brother gave me the bricks and the pieces out of which I built up my house，and that was a great deal for a poor woman like me．Could not all those bricks and pieces be counted as a single brick in his favour？It was an act of mercy．He wants it now；and is not this the very fountain of merct？”
Then the angel said，
“Thy brother，him whom thou hast regarded as the least among you all，he whose honest industry seemed to the as the most humble，hath given the this heavenly gift．The shalt not be turned away．It shall be vouchsafed to the to stand here without the gate，and to re-fleet，and repent of they life down yonder；but thou shalt not be admitted until thou hast in earnest acconplished something．”
“I could have said that in better words！”thought the critic，but he did not find fault aloud；and for him，that was already“SOMETHING！”
一点成绩
“我要做出一点成绩！”5兄弟之中最大的一位说，“因为我想成为世界上一个有用的人。只要我能发挥一点作用，哪怕我的地位很低也没有什么关系。我情愿这样，因为这总算是一点成绩。我愿意去做砖，因为这是人们非要不可的东西！我也算真正做了些事情！”
“不过你的这‘一点成绩’真是微不足道！”第二位兄弟说，“这简直等于什么也没有做。这是手艺人的活儿，机器也可以做得出来。哎，我倒想当一个泥瓦匠呢。这才是真正重要的工作；我要这样办。这可以使你有一种社会地位：你可以参加一种同业工会，成为一个市民，有自己的会旗和自己的酒店。是的，如果我的生意好的话，我还可以雇一些帮手。我可以成为一个师傅，我的太太也可以成为师娘了。这才算得上是一点成绩呢！”
“这真是一文不值！”第三位兄弟说，“因为这是阶级之外的东西。这个城里有许多阶级是列在‘师傅’之上的。你可以是一个正直的人；不过作为一个‘师傅’，你仍然不过是大家所谓的‘平民’罢了。我知道还有比这更好的东西。我要做一个建筑师。这样，我就可以进入艺术和想象的领域，那么我也可以跟文化界的上层人物并列了。我必须从头做起——的确，我可以坦白地这样讲：我要先当一个木匠的学徒。我要戴一顶便帽，虽然我平常是习惯于戴丝织礼帽的。我要替一些普通雇工跑腿，替他们取啤酒和烧酒，同时让他们把我称为‘你’——这当然是很糟糕的。不过我可以把这整个事儿当作一种表演——一种化装表演。明天——也就是说，当我学徒期满以后——我就走我自己的路，别的人都不在我的话下！我将上专门学校，学习绘图，成为一个建筑师。这才算得上‘一点成绩’呢！[非常有用的成绩！]我将会变成‘阁下’和‘大人’。是的，我的名字前面和后面还会加一个头衔呢。我将像我的前辈一样，不停地建筑。这样的事情才可靠呢！这就是我所谓的‘一点成绩’！”
“不过，你的所谓的一点成绩对我说来算不了什么！”第四位说。“我决不随波逐流，成为一个模仿者。我是一个天才，比你们所有的人都高明！我要成为一个新的设计专家，创造出新的设计思想，使建筑适合于这个国家的气候、材料、民族性和我们的时代的趋势——此外还要加上能展示我的才华的一层楼！”
“不过，假如材料和气候不对头又怎么办呢？”第五位说。“这样可就糟了，因为这两件东西都是很重要的——至于民族性，它可以被夸大到虚伪的程度。时代也可以变得疯狂，正如年轻人一样。我可以看得出来，不管你们怎样自命不凡，你们谁也不是什么了不起的东西。不过，随你们怎样吧，我决不跟你们一样。我要站在一切事情之外，只是研究你们所做的事情。每件事情总免不了有错误。我将挑剔和研究错误，这才是重要的事情呢！”
他能说到就能做到。关于这第五位兄弟，大家都说：“这人的话颇有道理！他有一个很好的头脑，可是他什么事情也不做！”
但是正因为如此，他才算是“重要”。
你要知道，这不过是一个小小的故事。但是只要世界存在，这种故事是不会有结尾的。
但是除此以外，这五位兄弟还做了些什么呢？什么也没有做！
请听下去吧，现在书归正传。
最大的那位哥哥是做砖的。他发现每块砖做成以后，可以赚一块小钱——一块铜做的钱。不过许多铜板堆在一起就积成一块漂亮的银洋。无论在什么地方——在面包房里也好，在屠户店里也好，在裁缝店里也好，只要你用这块钱去敲门，门立刻就开了。于是你需要什么，就能得到什么。你看，这就是砖所能做到的事情。有的砖裂成碎片或者分做两半，虽然如此，它还是有用。
一个穷苦的女人玛咖勒特希望在海边的堤岸上造一个小房子。那位最大的哥哥把所有的碎砖头都送给她，此外还送给她少量的整砖，因为他是一个好心肠的人，虽然他除了做砖以外，没有干出什么别的了不起的事来。这个穷苦的女人亲手造起了她自己的房子。房子很小，那个唯一的窗子很狭窄，门也很低，草顶也不太漂亮。但是它毕竟可以避风雨，而且是面对着一望无际的大海。海的浪花冲击着堤岸，咸泡沫洗刷着房子。但这房子仍然屹立不动，虽然那个做砖的人已经死亡，化为尘土。
至于第二位兄弟，是的，他有一套与众不同的建筑方法，因为他已经学过这行手艺。在他当完了学徒以后，他就背上背包，哼出一支手艺人的小调来：
我要在年轻的时候到处跑跑，
住在异地也跟在家一样高兴。
我的手艺也就等于我的钱包，
我最大的幸福就是我的青春。
然后我要回来看看我的故乡。
因为我这样答应过我的爱人。
好，这手艺是有出息的一行，
我要成为一个师傅而出名！
事实上也就是这样。当他回到家来以后，他就在城里成为一个师傅了。他建造了这幢房子，又马上建造那一幢；他建造了一整条街。这条[整齐的]街非常好看，使这个城市增光不少。于是别的房子又为他建造了一幢小房子。不过房子怎么能建造房子呢？假如你去问它们。它们是不会回答的。但是人能够回答：“当然这幢房子是整个的街为他建造的喽！”
这是一幢小房子，有土铺的地。不过当他跟他的新娘在那上面跳舞的时候，这土铺的地就变得非常光滑。墙上的每颗石子开出一朵花。这是很美丽的，比得上最贵重的挂锦。这是一幢美丽的房子，里面住着一对幸福的夫妇，外面飘着一面同业工会的旗帜。伙计和学徒都喊：“恭喜！”是的，这是一件重要的事情！最后他死去了——这也算是一点成绩。
现在当建筑师的第三位兄弟来了。他曾经当过木匠的学徒，常常戴着一顶便帽，而且专门跑腿。不过他后来进了一个专门学校，爬上了建筑师、“阁下”和“大人”的地位。他的哥哥是一个石匠师傅，但是整条街为他建筑了一幢房子。现在这条街当然就以这位建筑师的名字命名，而街上最美丽的一幢房子也就是他的房子。这是一点成绩，而他是一个重要的人物。他的名字前面和后面都有—个很长的头衔。他的孩子被称为少爷。他死了以后，他的太太成了贵妇人。这是一点成绩！他的名字，作为一个街名，在街头永垂不朽，而且挂在人们的嘴上。是的，这是一点成绩！
现在那个天才，第四位兄弟来了。他要发明创造新东西，此外还要加上一层楼，但是那层最高的楼却塌下来了；他也倒栽葱地滚下来，跌断了脖子。但是人们却为他举行了一个隆重的葬礼，扬起同业工会的旗帜，奏起音乐；报纸上印了许多颂辞，街上的铺路石上都撒满了鲜花。此外还有三篇追悼的演说，一篇比一篇长。这使他感到愉快，因为他素来就喜欢人家谈论他。他的坟上还建立了一座纪念碑塔。它只有一层楼，但这总算得上是一点成绩！
现在像其他三位兄弟一样，他也死掉了。不过作为批评家的最后的那位兄弟活得最长。这是理所当然，因为这样他就可以下最后的定论。对他说来，下最后的定论是再重要不过的事情。大家都说他有一副很好的头脑！现在他的时间也到头了：他死了。他来到天国的大门外。在这儿，人们总是成对地走进去的！这儿还有另外一个灵魂，也想走进去。这不是别人，而是住在堤岸上那个房子里的老玛咖勒特。
“这个寒伧的灵魂跟我同时到来，其目的莫非是要作一个对照吧！”批评家说。
“啊，姥姥，你是什么人？”他问。“你也想进去么？”
老太婆恭恭敬敬地行了一个屈膝礼；她以为现在跟她讲话的这个人就是圣·彼得。
“我是一个没有什么亲人的穷苦的老太婆，”她说。“我就是住在堤岸上那个房子里的老玛咖勒特！”
“呐，你做了些什么事情？你完成了一些什么工作？”
“我在人世间什么事情也没有做过！没有做过任何值得叫这门为我打开的事情。如果有人能让我进去，那真是做一桩好事！”
“你是怎样离开人世间的？”他问，其目的无非是想说几句消磨时间的活，因为站在门外等待是很腻烦的。
“是的，我的确不知道是怎样离开人世间的！我最后几年又穷又病，连爬下床都不能，更不能走到外面的寒冷中去。那个冬天真是冷极了，我现在总算是挨过去了。有几天是很风平浪静的，但是非常寒冷——这点先生你是知道的。海上眼睛所能望见的地方全结了冰。城里的人都跑到冰上去；有的在举行他们所谓的溜冰比赛，有的在跳舞。我相信他们还有音乐和茶点。我躺在我那个寒伧的小房子里，还能听见他们的喧闹声。
“那时正是天黑不久。月光刚刚升起来，但是还没有完全发出光彩。我在床上从窗子里向海上望。在远处海天相接的地方，我看到一层奇怪的白云。我躺着静静地望，我看到它里面有一个黑点，这黑点越变越大。我知道这是什么意思。我是一个老年人，我懂得这种现象，虽然这是不常见的。我一眼就看出来了，同时吓了一跳。这样的事情我一生看过两次，我知道很快就会有一场可怕的暴风雨，春洪就要爆发。这些跳舞、吃喝和欢乐的可怜人马上就会被淹死。全城的人，包括年轻的和年老的，全都出来了。假如没有什么人像我一样看见或知道前面正在发生的事情，谁会去告诉他们呢？
“我非常害怕。我从前好久没有像现在这样感到兴奋。我爬下床来，走到窗子那儿去——向前再走一步的气力都没有了。我设法把窗子推开，我可以看到大家在冰上又跑又跳，我可以看到美丽的旗帜在空中飘扬，我可以听到年轻人在喝彩，女子和男子在唱歌。他们真是在狂欢，不过那块带有黑点子的白云越升越高。我使尽我的气力大声叫喊，但是谁也听不见。我离他们太远了。
“暴风雨马上就要到来了，冰块就要裂开了，冰上的人就要无情地被吞没了。他们听不见我的声音，我也没有气力走到他们那里去。我多么希望我能够使他们走到陆地上来啊！这时我们的上帝给了我一个启示：把我的床放一把火烧起来。我宁愿把我的房子烧掉，也不愿让那么多的人悲惨地死掉。我终于把火点起来了，我看到一股鲜红的火焰……是的，我向门那边逃，但是我一到门边就倒下来了，再也不能向前挪动一步。火焰在后面追着我，燎出窗外，一直燎到房顶上。
“冰上的人都看到了火；他们拼命地跑来救我这个可怜的老太婆，因为他们以为我快要被烧死了。他们没有一个人留在后面。我听到他们跑来，但同时我也听到空中起了一阵飒飒的声音。我听到一阵像大炮似的雷声。春潮把冰盖托起来，崩成碎片。但是大家已经跑到堤岸上来了；这时火花正在我身上飞舞。我把他们大家都救出来了。但是我想我受不了寒冷和惊恐，因此我现在就来到了天国的门口。据说天国的门也会为我这样的穷人打开的。现在我在堤岸上的房子已经没有了——当然这并不是说我因此就可以走进天国。”
这时天国的门开了；安琪儿把这个老太婆领进去。她在门外遗下一根干草。这根草原先是铺在她为救那些人而烧掉的那张床上的。这根草现在变成了纯净的金子，不过这金子在扩大，变成了最美丽的叶和花。
“看吧，这是一个穷苦的女人带来的东西！”
安琪儿对批评家说。“你带来了什么呢？是的，我知道你什么也没有做过——你连一块砖也没有做过。唯愿你能再回去，就是带来这一点儿东西都好。你把一块砖做出来后，可能它值不了什么。不过，假如你是用善意把它做出来，那么它究竟还算是一点东西呀。但是你回不去了，而且我也没有办法帮你的忙！”
于是那个可怜的灵魂——住在堤岸上的那个老太婆——为他求情说：
“我那个小房子所用的整砖和碎砖，都是他的兄弟做出来的。对于我这样的一个穷苦老太婆说来，这是一桩了不起的事情！你能不能把这些整砖和碎砖看作是他的那一块砖呢？这是一件慈悲的行为！他现在需要慈悲，而这正是一个慈悲的地方！”
“你所认为最渺小的那个兄弟，”安琪儿说，“他勤劳的工作你认为微不足道，他却送给你一件走进天国的礼物。现在没有人把你送回去了，你可以站在门外面仔细想一想，考虑一下你在人世间的行为。不过你现在还不能进来，你得先诚恳地做出一点成绩来！”
“这个意思我可以用更好的字眼表达出来！”这位批评家想。不过他没有高声地讲。在他看来，这已经算是“一点成绩”了。
这是一篇讽刺性的小故事，最初发表在1858年出版的《新的童话和故事集》第1卷第1部里。它所讽刺的对象是“批评家”。高谈阔论只说空话而不做实事的人，是进不了天国的。天国门口的安琪儿拦住那些“批评家”，说：“你带来了什么呢？是的，我知道你什么也没有做过——你连一块砖也没有做过。唯愿你能再回去，就是带来这一点儿东西都好。”关于这个故事，安徒生在他的手记中写道：“在《一点成绩》中，我谈了一件真事。在瑞典的西海岸，我听说有一位老妇人，在大家都跑到冰上去玩耍狂欢的时候，她为了防范春天的洪水成灾，把自己的房子放火烧起来，为的是吸引他们赶快回来。”