Central Park Today 01

Morningside park today

晒太阳

昨天阳光大好，上完瑜伽课，坐在Lower Library 前面，等朋友来晒太阳。本科生迫不及待地脱了上衣躺在草坪上晒beach, 几个男孩子还搬出来了几把老吉他，在女孩子丛中有的没的糊弄着。台阶上坐满了年轻人，睡觉、吃东西、或在手机上甜言蜜语，也有人在玩橄榄球、卖自己做的饼干，或者干脆排队等着领免费的薯条和汽水。热闹的地方当然少不了法论功的学员们到处散发传单，他们比春天来得早、来得勤。今年的春天来的迟，到现在学校里的桃花还没有开，只有紫玉兰花傻傻得先开了，一树的灿烂，在百老汇街上无人瞩目。花期就是这样，来得太早或者来得太迟都没有人注意。

哎，这个时候才觉得哥大像个大学，充满了一文不值的青春和百无聊赖的悠闲。阳光晒的人都酥了，浑身痒痒的，把刚才瑜伽课所受的折磨化解了。看着这样的校园，很难想象几天前弗吉尼亚理工大学里，几十个这样的年轻人和教授们被血腥地杀害了。大学本来是圣洁的地方，是求知的场所，是用来浪费百无聊赖的青春的地方。悲剧看起来突如其来，但是掩藏在校园平和生活背后的冲突和压力，我们每个人不都在经历着么？这个有点令人沮丧的想法，使这个春天的午后看起来都有点冷。

决定去买鞋，在Aerosoles 转了一圈儿又出来了。六十几块的新款凉鞋都够我买好多书了。还是在“迷宫”里舒服，买不买都没关系，坐在楼梯角上看书，或者在书架中间徘徊，真是忘掉生活中压力的好办法。书店里常常有book talk，二楼柜台前的折扣书架被推到后面，摆上几把椅子，作者和读者就这么亲密地坐着谈书、聊天，之后还有小小的reception，就着饼干和葡萄酒，大家可以继续聊天。这里不起眼的读书人，可能是大学里有名的教授，或者谪居纽约的作家，也有很多我这样无聊的学生，喜欢在书店里逛荡和打发时间的人，大概都是些无法在鞋店里得到满足的人吧。

据说最近纽约所流行的约会方式之一就是到书店、美术馆或者图书馆听讲座，既避免了初次见面的尴尬，也提供了交流想法的直接机会。一个人的兴趣、爱好和智识都可以在交谈中自然而然的表现出来。此外，约会的成本也会大大地下降。对忙碌和讲求实际的纽约客来说，同时听讲座和谈恋爱是比较经济的交友方式。在书堆里瞎翻，居然找到两本有意思的书。一本是艾柯谈文学的论文集，收录了他在各种学术和非学术论坛的讲演，表达了他对现代文学和作家的看法。另一本是莱昂.特里林的小说《中途》（The Middle of the Journey）[1]. 特里林是哥大英语系的著名教授，文论作品无数，但是平生只出了这么一本小说。我由此产生了一个疑问，教文学的老师是不是一定要会写小说？教艺术的老师是不是一定要会绘画或者雕塑？他们的艺术价值和学术价值是不是要统一？

晚上躺在床上看《光华》杂志。是台湾政府办给海外的杂志，介绍台湾的风土人情和当下的流行时尚。有一篇介绍台湾现在流行的部落格网站“无名小站”，我上去一看，都是年轻人的自拍照。杂志上有几篇文字讨论，认为照片网站是部落格出现之后的新一代网络交流模式。如果说部落格是连接私人写作和公共空间的桥梁，是对传统上有权威所把持的文字舆论空间的挑战， 那么照片交流就是对传统媒体的挑战，因为在这里每个人都有发布图像信息的权利和自由，图像和多媒体空间不再由权威媒体所把持。我有一点疑惑，像youtube和土豆网这样的网站上，到底多少是自由创作，有多少是从现有媒体上拷贝的作品？最新流行的电视剧和电影、流行音乐mv现在都可以在这些网站上找到，观众可以无成本的在线观看。当然上面也有许多个人创作作品，观看的人数也不少。现在的网络到底解决的是传统媒体的垄断问题，还是增加了新的信息传播渠道？我很想看看更多的学理上的讨论。

在另一篇文章中，有人感叹现代人丧失了许多集体回忆。比如人们不再需要一起观看电影，所有对影像的需求都可以在家里解决，所以就失去了集体回忆。我觉得不然，网络上影像和文字的分享不就是产生新的集体回忆的方式吗？如果要深究，我觉得我们得回到“集体”这个词的意义。过去的“集体”产生于同时接受的共同经验和体验，现在“集体”的产生更多的在于认同而非同时体验。而且，进一步的追问，到底“集体”和“集体回忆”的价值何在？我们当下社会的整合方式和以往已经有了很大的不同，所谓的“粉丝”是个集体，所谓的部落格也是一个集体，我觉得重要的不是“集体”是如何产生的，而是“集体”对于个人和社会的意义。就像是晒太阳，我们干嘛非得一块儿晒呢？我们各晒各的，然后一起交流体验不也很好吗？当然，少数想借晒太阳说事儿的同学除外。

[1] Published in 1947, as the cold war was heating up, Lionel Trilling’s only novel was a prophetic reckoning with the bitter ideological disputes that were to come to a head in the McCarthy era. The Middle of the Journey revolves around a political turncoat and the anger his action awakens among a group of intellectuals summering in Connecticut. The story, however, is less concerned with the rights and wrongs of left and right than with an absence of integrity at the very heart of the debate. Certainly the hero, John Laskell, staging a slow recovery from the death of his lover and a near-fatal illness of his own, comes to suspect that the conflicts and commitments involved are little more than a distraction from the real responsibilities, and terrors, of the common world. A detailed, sometimes slyly humorous, picture of the manners and mores of the intelligentsia, as well as a work of surprising tenderness and ultimately tragic import, The Middle of the Journey is a novel of ideas whose quiet resonance has only grown with time. This is a deeply troubling examination of America by one of its greatest critics.

独自莫凭栏

浪淘沙 　　帘外雨潺潺， 　　春意阑珊。　　罗衾不耐五更寒。 　　梦里不知身是客， 　　一晌贪欢. 　　独自莫凭栏， 　　无限江山， 　　别时容易见时难。 　　流水落花春去也， 　　天上人间。 独自莫凭栏。 昨天一个人站在栏杆边，想起了这句话。为什么呢？ 一个人站在那儿，很有跳下去的欲望。 面前是巨大的枝形吊灯，流光溢彩，美的不似人间。 有一天看了一部老电影《遭遇激情》，发现原来每个人都有跳下去冲动。里面袁越演的那个有点二的替身演员，为找了300块钱去救一个陌生人，就从二楼跳了下去，把吕丽萍吓得半死。电影太短，好像还没开始就结束了。主人公既没kiss, 更没有情话绵绵，这也许是1990年电影的极限了。电影中有两个情节让我印象深刻，第一是无处不见的“盼盼”形象。对啊，就是那个傻二盼盼，体恤衫上的盼盼、脸盆上的盼盼、大街小巷广告牌上的盼盼、你我他的盼盼。第二就是冯小钢原来一直那么贫，那会儿当编剧就一点儿正经没有。

André Chénier

I saw Umberto Giordano's opera Andrea Chenier yesterday at Met. According to Wikipedia,

"André Marie Chénier (October 30, 1762 – July 25, 1794) was a French poet and is associated with the events of the French Revolution of which he was an innocent victim. His sensual, emotive poetry marks him as one of the precursors of the Romantic movement. His career was brought to an abrupt end when he was guillotined for alleged "crimes against the state", just three days before the end of the Reign of Terror." His life was also the subject of Dickens' Tale of Two Cities.

Ben Heppner played the poet Chenier who struggled between love and ideal and Violeta Urmana wonderfully performed the beautiful and tragic heorin Maddalena. Set in the peak of French Revolution, Chenier's fate is a reflection of fate of intellectuals who held their political ideals dear to their heart. There was tention between classes, between lovers, between revoluation ideas, and between the past and the present. All consumated in the tragic ending of the two young lovers.

Two of opera’s most famous arias, “La mamma morta” and “Un dì, all’azzurro spazio" come in Act II and III, highlighted the emotional and dramatic encounters of Maddalena and Chenier. In their last aria, they claimed they found the truth of "the whole existence" and "in death, we live".

================================================================

青年女囚

(Chenier 作于圣·拉萨尔狱)

“青的麦穗成熟着，受到镰刀的矜惜；青的葡萄整夏天不怕榨床的辚轹，酣饮着朝露之珠；而我呵也和它们一样地貌美年轻，不管当前的时日有什么祸乱灾棱，我还不愿意死去。

“让那铁石心肠去干着眼慷慨赴死，我却哭着，希望着，顺着北风的威势倒下又抬起头来。日子诚然有苦的，但有些确实鲜甜!(以上郑克鲁译)唉!哪有那种蜜呵，吃后不感到腻烦?哪有无风的沧海?

“我的胸中藏着有丰富的奇思妙想。牢狱之墙尽管高，我有希望的翅膀，再高压也是徒然： 正如那菲罗美尔逃出了猎户网罗，更活泼、更快乐地飞，中着，引吭高歌，在那冥冥的霄汉。

“会轮到我去死吗?安闲地我去就寝，安闲地我又醒来；不管睡眠或清醒，我都是自问无亏。我活着，大家眼里都闪出庆幸之光!那许多沉忧之脸看到我在这地方，又几乎有了欢意。

“我这美好的征程离尽头还太遥远!我才出发哩，那标树排在路的两面，我才走过了几棵；这人生的筵席呵，才不过勉强开端，我手里捧的金樽仍然是满到边缘，我才衔到了片刻。

“我还是在春天哩，我定要看到收获；像太阳完成一年，要四时循序而过，我也有我的四时。我正在枝头焕发，构成园圃的精华，我曾见到照耀的还只是朝日之霞，我要过我的一日。

“死神呵!不要匆忙，离开，且离开这里；有些心灵被羞愧、惊慌或失望吞噬，快去为它们解除。对于我吗，巴莱丝还留有良辰美景，爱神还留有蜜吻，缪斯还留有和声：我还不愿意死去。”

就是这样，我虽然惨凄凄身在囹圄我的琴却苏醒了，听一个狱中少女作这番怨诉祈求；我摆脱着我奄奄待尽的沉重心情，把她那天真小口自然流露的哀音依韵律谱成诗句。

这几章诗是我的牢狱的和谐见证，谁有那闲情逸致，读这诗定会追问那个妙人儿是谁：她的面容和词语都那么风致嫣然，凡是接近她的人都将会和她一般，怕自己临到末日。

========================================================

Can not sleep. So I finished this film: Dust (2001). According to wikipedia, Dust (Macedonian: Прашина; Transliteration: Prašina) is a 2001 Macedonian film starring Joseph Fiennes, David Wenham, Adrian Lester, Anne Brochet, Nikolina Kujaca, Vera Farmiga and Rosemary Murphy. It was directed and written by Milčo Mančevski. The music was created by Kiril Dzajkovski.

Shifting periodically between two parallel stories, Dust opens in present-day New York City with a young criminal being confronted at gunpoint by an ailing old woman whose apartment he is attempting to burglarize. While he awaits an opportunity to escape, she launches into a tale about two outlaw brothers, at the turn of the 20th century, who travel to Ottoman controlled Macedonia. The two brothers have transient ill will between them, and they become estranged when confronted with a beautiful woman. In the New York storyline, the young man (named Edge) hunts for the old woman's gold to pay back a debt, and gradually grows closer to the woman. In the Macedonian story, the brothers end up fighting for opposite sides of a revolution, with the religious Elijah taking up sides with the Ottoman sultan and gunslinger Luke joining "the Teacher", a Macedonian rebel.

In the end of the movie, Luke died when he tried to save the woman and her baby and Elijah took the baby back to U.S. The old woman also died in emergency room, Edge took the ashes of the old woman (in fact the baby in the other part of the story) back to her homeland. In the last shot of the film, Elijah held the baby and looked over the sky. There was the plane which took Edge and the ashes of the baby. Time and space meet each other perfectly and the conflict of life is resolved in a circle of life.

Beautiful and sad movie.

Laugh of the day--happiness promised

From my friend's email Hi Folks, Take a break after a day-long email discussion and work and/or news reading. At least we have Ben & Jerry's free cone and, if you don't like ice cream,you will like the following, I promise.

1. go to www.google.com

2. click on "maps"

3. click on "get directions"

4. type "New York" in the first box (the "from"box)

5. type "London" in the second box (the "to" box)

6. Check out the time it costs.

7. scroll down to step #23

Use Poetry to dry our tear

**************************************************************** CUCSSA - Chinese Poetry Symposium **************************************************************** This Thursday (April.19) Columbia EALAC (Department of East Asian Languages and Cultures) and CUCSSA present you with a distinguished Chinese poetry symposium titled "Who/What Travels in Poetry Translation?" This event is featuring some of the most prominent poets, literary critics and scholars of contemporary China, Zhai Yongming, Xi Chuan, Tang Xiaodu and Zhou Zan to name a few. The Columbia Chinese poetry society will be previliged to hear their verses and voices and join them in a real conversation. The event is free and open to public. Refreshments will be served. We welcome all! Event: Chinese Poetry Symposium: Who/What Travels in Poetry Translation? Time: 1:00pm-3:00pm, April. 19, 2007 Place: Lerner Hall, C555 Speakers:*Tang Xiaodu (唐晓渡), distinguished critic of contemporary Chinese poetry **Chen Chao (陈超), distinguished scholar of poetry and poetics **Zhai Yongming (翟永明), major Chinese poet, essayist **Luo Ying, poet and philanthropist **Zhao Ye (赵野), poet and film maker **Sun Yi (孙怡), poet, graduated student at NYU **Xi Chuan (西川), poet, essayist, and translator; visiting professor at NYU **Zhou Zan (周瓒), poet, critic, and visiting scholar at Columbia University*

Life is unpredictable

In the past Friday, a CU female student was raped and toutoured for 19 hours in her appartment near 137 street and Broadway and the criminal tried to burn her alive. In the past Monday, 32 students at Viginia Tech were shoot to death. This evening, my student from my online course sent me email to explain why she was late for homework--because her boyfriend was killed in a car crash near Maryland. I am so sorry for those lives lost too early. ====================================================

Duino Elegies

by Rainer Maria Rilke Translated by Stephen Mitchell

The First Elegy

Who, if I cried out, would hear me among the angels' hierarchies? and even if one of them pressed me suddenly against his heart:I would be consumed in that overwhelming existence.For beauty is nothing but the beginning of terror, which we are still just able to endure, and we are so awed because it serenely disdains to annihilate us.Every angel is terrifying.And so I hold myself back and swallow the call-note of my dark sobbing.Ah, whom can we ever turn to in our need?Not angels, not humans, and already the knowing animals are aware that we are not really at home in our interpreted world.Perhaps there remains for us some tree on a hillside, which every day we can take into our vision; there remains for us yesterday's street and the loyalty of a habit so much at ease when it stayed with us that it moved in and never left.Oh and night: there is night, when a wind full of infinite space gnaws at our faces.Whom would it not remain for--that longed-after, mildly disillusioning presence, which the solitary heart so painfully meets.Is it any less difficult for lovers?But they keep on using each other to hide their own fate.Don't you know yet? Fling the emptiness out of your arms into the spaces we breathe; perhaps the birds will feel the expanded air with more passionate flying. Yes--the springtimes needed you. Often a star was waiting for you to notice it.A wave rolled toward you out of the distant past, or as you walked under an open window, a violin yielded itself to your hearing.All this was mission. But could you accomplish it?Weren't you always distracted by expectation, as if every event announced a beloved?(Where can you find a place to keep her, with all the huge strange thoughts inside you going and coming and often staying all night.)But when you feel longing, sing of women in love; for their famous passion is still not immortal.Sing of women abandoned and desolate (you envy them, almost) who could love so much more purely than those who were gratified.Begin again and again the never-attainable praising; remember: the hero lives on; even his downfall was merely a pretext for achieving his final birth.But Nature, spent and exhausted, takes lovers back into herself, as if there were not enough strength to create them a second time.Have you imagined Gaspara Stampa intensely enough so that any girl deserted by her beloved might be inspired by that fierce example of soaring, objectless love and might say to herself, "Perhaps I can be like her?"Shouldn't this most ancient of sufferings finally grow more fruitful for us?Isn't it time that we lovingly freed ourselves from the beloved and, quivering, endured: as the arrow endures the bowstring's tension, so that gathered in the snap of release it can be more than itself.For there is no place where we can remain. Voices. Voices. Listen, my heart, as only saints have listened: until the gigantic call lifted them off the ground; yet they kept on, impossibly, kneeling and didn't notice at all: so complete was their listening.Not that you could endure God's voice--far from it.But listen to the voice of the wind and the ceaseless message that forms itself out of silence.It is murmuring toward you now from those who died young.Didn't their fate, whenever you stepped into a church in Naples or Rome, quietly come to address you?Or high up, some eulogy entrusted you with a mission, as, last year, on the plaque in Santa Maria Formosa.What they want of me is that I gently remove the appearance of injustice about their death-- which at times slightly hinders their souls from proceeding onward. Of course, it is strange to inhabit the earth no longer, to give up customs one barely had time to learn, not to see roses and other promising Things in terms of a human future; no longer to be what one was in infinitely anxious hands; to leave even one's own first name behind, forgetting it as easily as a child abandons a broken toy.Strange to no longer desire one's desires.Strange to see meanings that clung together once, floating away in every direction.And being dead is hard work and full of retrieval before one can gradually feel a trace of eternity.Though the living are wrong to believe in the too-sharp distinctions which they themselves have created.Angels (they say) don't know whether it is the living they are moving among, or the dead.The eternal torrent whirls all ages along in it, through both realms forever, and their voices are drowned out in its thunderous roar. In the end, those who were carried off early no longer need us: they are weaned from earth's sorrows and joys, as gently as children outgrow the soft breasts of their mothers.But we, who do need such great mysteries, we for whom grief is so often the source of our spirit's growth--: could we exist without them?Is the legend meaningless that tells how, in the lament for Linus, the daring first notes of song pierced through the barren numbness; and then in the startled space which a youth as lovely as a god has suddenly left forever, the Void felt for the first time that harmony which now enraptures and comforts and helps us.

Terrible Crime against CU Grad Student near my home

PERVERT TRIED TO KILL HER TIED-UP COLUMBIA STUDENT LEFT TO DIE USED FIRE SET BY CREEP TO FREE HERSELF

BY JIMMY VIELKIND, LISA L. COLANGELO and MELISSA GRACE DAILY NEWS WRITERS

Posted Monday, April 16th 2007, 4:00 AM

Tied up and left to die in a burning apartment, a Columbia student used the blaze set by her sadistic rapist to free herself, Police Commissioner Raymond Kelly said yesterday. "It appears she was able to escape as a result of the fire," Kelly said. "She was tied, and the flame was used by her to break the bond." The 23-year-old woman, identified by sources as a student at the Columbia Graduate School of Journalism, endured 19 hours of rape and torture at the hands of a sick creep in her Hamilton Heights apartment Friday night. In what Kelly called a "particularly vicious" assault, the fiend tied his victim to a bed, cut her, raped her, burned her with scalding water and chemicals - and then set the woman's futon on fire to cover up the crime, police said. He was so brutal he slit her eyelids, Kelly said. The student used the flames to free herself and fled her fifth-floor apartment with her hands still bound to each other to get help from a neighbor, officials said. The woman remains hospitalized in serious but stable condition. Cops yesterday were combing through surveillance video for images of the attacker, who followed the woman into her building near City College at 9:30 p.m. Kelly said detectives were looking to see if there was any evidence the rapist had attacked before, but said, "It does not appear right now to be part of a pattern." One man said he saw the victim in the basement of the building shortly after she escaped. "She just kept saying, 'I've been raped,' " said Ronald Ward, 19, who spotted the fire and ran downstairs for help, where he found the building's superintendent, Carl Peroune, trying to soothe the woman as they waited for an ambulance. "She was down there crying," Ward said. Police were hunting for the attacker, described as a bald, 6-foot-1, 180-pound black man in his 30s with a goatee and a scar on his abdomen. Several residents of the woman's six-story Hamilton Terrace building, located on a quiet treelined block of neat rowhouses, said she had moved in within the last two months. "I've been living in this building 30 years, and nothing like this ever happened," said another resident, Teddy Perkins, 55. "This is real shocking." mgrace@nydailynews.com With Ernie Naspretto

生命，到底谁该对你负责？

这几天网上和收音机里全是关于弗吉尼亚理工大学枪杀案的报道，舆论不外乎两种—美国早该严格枪支管制和学校管理无能。有人用杀手的国籍开玩笑，也有人翻出此前研究生杀导师的许多报道。这件事让我想起了读研究生的时候的一件事。当时，北大光华管理学院的一个博士研究生杀死了同宿舍的另一个研究生，然后从新宿舍楼的顶层一跃而下，自杀了事。每个系里都组织学生讨论，每个人都得发言，我觉得尴尬极了。这么一个悲剧非得上纲上线的讨论实在是滑稽。大家不探讨这么个普通人走上绝路的原因，反而讨论他自杀方式的拙劣，这样的讨论有没什么意思？每个人每天的生活都是这么的郁闷，郁闷到不想和别人说话，郁闷到采取极端的报复社会的行动，到底谁该对此负责？ 生命，到底谁该对你负责？

妈妈的生日

怎么看着日历怎么觉着4月17日怪眼熟的，原来是妈妈的生日。早上起来，不知道为什么就想给她打电话，一杯热咖啡下肚，舒坦地就把这事儿给忘了。现在想起来了，北京时间已经是4月18日了。哎，起了个大早赶了个晚集，瞧这事儿办的。

妈妈1944年生人，今年63了. 不过她精神极了，每天都忙着乘坐咱们首都北京四毛钱一趟的公共汽车，视察能使用老年公园通票的大小公园们。根据她最近一期的报告，北京北城的公园保养水平明显高于北京南城的公园，据说大观园和她十几年前去看的时候没什么变化，除了更加破败。对比之下，颐和园、圆明园和香山这些地方当然显得气派多了。瞅我妈的精神头儿，我觉得她比我更像老舍笔下的小坡，所以，今天就祝贺这个老“小坡”生日快乐，心想事成。

Virginia Tech Shooting Kills at Least 33

April 16, 2007 Virginia Tech Shooting Kills at Least 33 By CHRISTINE HAUSER and ANAHAD O’CONNOR

At least 33 people were killed today on the campus of Virginia Tech in what appears to be the deadliest shooting rampage in American history, according to federal law-enforcement officials. Many of the victims were students shot in a dorm and a classroom building. "Today the university was struck with a tragedy that we consider of monumental proportions," said the university's president, Charles Steger. Witnesses described scenes of mass chaos and unimaginable horror as some students were lined up against a wall and shot. Others jumped out of windows to escape, or crouched on floors to take cover. There were two shootings on the campus in Blacksburg, Va., and in both instances there were fatalities with "multiple shooting victims," Mr. Steger said. The attacks started early in the morning, with a call to police at 7:15 a.m., as students were getting ready for classes or were on their way there. As the rampage unfolded over nearly three hours, details emerged from witnesses describing a gunman going room to room in a residence hall, and of gunfire later at a building where classes were held. When it was over, sidewalks were stained with blood. Among those dead was the gunman. The identification of the gunman was proving difficult, because the suspected shooter did not have identification among his effects and because of the severity of an apparently self-inflicted wound to the head, according to a federal law enforcement official. He said investigators were trying to trace purchase records for two handguns found near the body. At least 22 people were injured. At least 17 Virginia Tech students were being treated for gunshot wounds and other injuries at Montgomery Regional Hospital, and four of them were in surgery, according to a hospital spokesperson. At Lewis-Gale Medical Center, in Salem, Va., four students and a staff member were treated. Two were in stable condition, and the conditions of the other three were described as "undetermined." Officials said there could have been more injured and taken to other medical facilities. The university has more than 25,000 full-time students on a campus that is spread over 2,600 acres. It was not clear how many of the victims were notified of the dangers. Kirsten Bernhards, 18, said she and countless other students had no idea that a shooting had occurred when she left her dorm room in O'Shaughnessy Hall shortly before 10 a.m., more than two hours after the first shootings. "I was leaving for my 10:10 film class," she said. "I had just locked the door and my neighbor said, 'did you check your email?'" The university had, a few minutes earlier, sent out a bulletin warning students about an apparent shooter. But few students seemed to have any sense of urgency. Ms. Bernards said she walked toward her class, preoccupied with an upcoming exam and listening to music on her IPOD. On the way, she said, she heard some loud cracks, and only later concluded they had been gunshots from the second round of shootings. But even at that point, many students were walking around the campus with little if any sense of alarm. It was only when Ms. Bernhards got close to Norris Hall, the second of two buildings where the shootings took place, that she realized something had gone wrong. "I looked up and I saw at least 10 guards with assault rifles aiming at the main entrance of Norris," she recalled. Up until today, the deadliest campus shooting in United States history was in 1966 at the University of Texas, where Charles Whitman climbed to the 28th-floor observation deck of a clock tower and opened fire, killing 16 people before he was gunned down by police. In the Columbine High attack in 1999, two teenagers killed 12 fellow students and a teacher before killing themselves. A police official at Virginia Tech, Wendell Flinchum, said some of the victims were shot in the classroom. News of the number of the fatalities sent up an audible gasp in the news conference, said one television reporter in the broadcast. While few confirmed details about the gunman and the motive were clear, students told reporters at WTKR, a local television station, that the gunman had been looking for his girlfriend, and at one of the locations he lined up some students and shot them all, according to Mike Mather, a reporter for the station. President Bush offered condolences this afternoon to relatives of the victims, and said federal investigators would help the Virginia authorities in any way possible. "We hold the victims in our hearts; we lift them up in our prayers," Mr. Bush said at the White House. President Bush was "horrified" at the news of the shooting, said Dana Perino, a White House spokeswoman, earlier in the day. One student captured partial images, broadcast on CNN, using his cellphone video camera showing grainy dark-clad figures on the street outside of campus buildings. Popping sounds from the gunfire were audible. "This place is in a state of panic," said a student who was interviewed on CNN, Shaver Deyerle. "Nobody knew what was going on at first." He said that the shooting reminded him of the Columbine High School killings. Today's shooting at Virginia Tech comes in the same week, eight years ago, as the April 20 shooting at Columbine. The police were slowly evacuating students from campus buildings and all classes have been canceled. Families were told to reunite with students at the Inn at Virginia Tech, a facility of conference space and hotel rooms. The university community was told to assemble on Tuesday at the Cassell Coliseum to start to deal with the tragedy, a campus statement said. A few details emerged from the news conference. At 7:15 a.m., an emergency 911 call came in to University police department about a shooting at the dormitory, West Ambler Johnston, which houses about 900 freshman students. About two hours later it was followed by a second shooting at a classroom in a science and engineering building on the opposite end of campus, Norris Hall. The shooter died there, the police said. Images on CNN showed police with assault rifles swarming several buildings, sirens blaring in the background and a voice over a loudspeaker warning people across the campus to take cover in buildings and stay away from windows. Many students could be seen crouching on floors in classrooms and dormitories. Police evacuated students and faculty, many of them to local hotels, and witnesses said that some students were seen scrambling out of windows to get to safety. A Montgomery County school official said that all schools throughout the county were being shut down. The shooting was the second in the past year that forced officials to lock down the campus. In August of 2006, an escaped jail inmate shot and killed a deputy sheriff and an unarmed security guard at a nearby hospital before the police caught him in the woods near the university. The capture ended a manhunt that led to the cancellation of the first day of classes at Virginia Tech and shut down most businesses and municipal buildings in Blacksburg. The accused gunman, William Morva, is facing capital murder charges.

赖小子（Walking on the Wild Side）

昨晚看了《赖小子》（Walking on the Wild Side），是导演韩杰的处女作，也是哥大中国电影界的闭幕影片。韩杰自编自导，把自己在山西的成长经历变成了一部带有时代挽歌色彩的绝唱。三个山西乡下的年轻人开始酗酒打人，以为出了人命，只好选择亡命天涯。一路上在黑店嫖妓，差点丢了汽车，随后在鸡毛店歇脚，一个朋友投了汽车和钱自己溜了。剩下的两个朋友开始靠盗窃和抢劫生活，很快地，在一次劫持出租车的作案中，一个朋友失手打死了另一个朋友。最后，这个误杀了朋友的年轻人回到老家，发现他们之前的案子已经被私了了，他情人的丈夫也在矿难中死了，现在他可以和情人一起带着抚恤金一走了之。但是他失去了行动的勇气，变得和那些沉默的煤堆一样。 影片描述了这群年轻人无知而又绝望的生活，他们试图用性、用酗酒和抽烟来逃离自己的现实生活，但是很快地就意识到他们根本无出可逃。在出逃的途中，他们关于友谊、信任、爱情和亲情的幻想都破灭了，甚至生命本身也失去了。他们为了生存，自然而然地选择了犯罪，而犯罪不过是加快了他们走向自己终点的进程。在张艺谋的《红高粱》里面，出现过大片的红色高粱地，用以渲染性高潮的来临和不可阻挡的血腥命运的降临。《赖小子》用收割之后的玉米地对《红高粱》致敬，但是，这里的玉米地是主人公的死亡之地。那些失去生命的玉米秆在风中发抖，象征着最后一个主人公也变成了只会发抖的弱者。在影片开始他所拥有的无所畏惧的勇气和对未来的希望，都随着朋友的死和他的负罪感而消失了。 整部影片非常压抑，山西农村由于过度开采煤矿所造成的严重污染比比皆是。多数人依赖这些小煤窑生存，这些小煤窑也无情地吞噬他们的生命。那些想逃脱这个宿命循环的年轻人，最后仍然被社会所吞没。如果说贾樟柯的《小武》还带着一点乐观和诙谐，这部由他监制的电影完全泯灭了那一点点地希望。《赖小子》明显地模仿了《猜火车》的情节和叙事手法，不过整部影片看起来还不错，除了让你觉得郁闷地要死，也让你感到一点幸存者的喜悦—毕竟你不用选择对着你的朋友拿起一把手枪。

西川的谢幕

前两天在朋友的朋友家做客。芝加哥拥有美丽而安静的郊区，在那里高尔夫球场和大大小小的池塘夹杂在中产阶级的别墅中间，偶尔也可以看到几百万美元的豪宅。哈哈，生活在这里的人每天“绿水青山带笑颜，夫妻双双把家还”。原来生活还可以这样惬意，这样舒服的没谱。朋友夫妇招待得非常殷勤，弄得我都不好意思了。原定第二天一早离开，但是机票出了问题，芝加哥下起了四月的大雪，无论如何是走不了了，只能再叨扰一天。朋友怕我无聊，就搬出一堆书来，让我映雪读书，加上红袖添香的招待。随便挑了一本书开始读，是西川的《深浅》。这一阵子认识了不少原来毕业于北京外国语学院外语学校的老“附校生”，中间又有不少北大的校友，聊起来格外亲切。我打扰的这个朋友在附校就是西川的师兄，后来在北大也是他的师兄。这么多年来他们还保持着联系，这本书就是西川的赠书。

在北大混了六年，多少听说过西川、海子、驼一禾这些名字，但是从来没有真正读过他们的作品。社会学系的系歌唱到“未名湖是个海洋，诗人都沉在水底”，我以为北大的诗人都已经自戕了，没想到西川还在中央美院好好地教书和写诗。这一本《深浅》是他最近的合集，收录了1990年以后创作的作品，“其内容包括西川诗歌精粹、文化随笔，以及与若干国内外作家、学者关于当代中国社会文化的热点问题的对话和争辩。全书由六辑构成。第一、二辑为诗歌，收录了《致敬》、《厄运》、《鹰的话语》、《蚊子志》、《契丹面具》等著名篇章。第三辑为一部具有诗歌特有的韵律美的、想象丰富奇特的诗剧《我的天》。第四辑为散文集，余下两辑为论文，对话，答记者问等等”。

我这个人既是文盲，更是诗盲，所以跳过了诗和戏剧的部分，直接开始读西川的散文。散文中间影响比较深的是西川回顾自己“淘书”生涯的一篇文字（《与书籍有关》），诙谐幽默，半文半白，把淘书和读书的甘苦描摹得淋漓尽致，不愧是个海王屯里的作家。他通过写书来忆人，有的是他的同学和朋友（比如申铭和《太平广记》），有的是旅途中遇到的奇人（比如《爱欲经》和Lance Dane）。最感人的回忆是那段得到阿赫玛托娃的《安魂曲》的经历。他青年时代的诗友老金落魄巴黎，从跳蚤市场淘得此书，不远万里托人带回北京相赠。后来老金过世，西川写下了这段文字“校友说他最后一次见老金是在巴黎沙特赖地铁车站。时老金失魂落魄，精神崩溃。我曾长久徘徊于沙特赖地铁车站站台，冀老金或老金幽魂拍打我肩，但不是生死两茫茫就是生生两茫茫。一个朋友，就这么没了。回到旅馆，我不禁伏枕一哭。在《安魂曲》中，阿赫玛托娃说道："我知道人的脸怎样憔 悴，／恐惧怎样从眼睑下窥视，／痛苦怎样在脸颊上刻绘／一页页 无情的楔形文字……”。我觉得西川不仅是在向老金作别，也是在向逝去的诗的年代作别。

另一篇《想象我居住的城市》非常有趣。他描写北京，不是把它作为自己当下居住的城市，而是作为想象中的异乡，因此而获得了巨大的想象空间。他引用了不少外国人写北京的作品，比如谢阁兰的小说《勒内·莱斯》，来呼应Coehle的《炼金术士》，以想象来重构现实。他写道“因此，北京的确存在着另一个北京，是老舍那类人所不曾见过的，就像这世界上存在着老舍不曾见过的生活、不曾读过的诗篇。日常生活的北京还不是全部的北京。你需要想象北京，北京会满足你的想象；即使它暂时没有你所想象的东西，它也会应着你的想象长出你所想象的东西。我们都从想象中来。”我尤其喜欢他下面的一段文字：

“你看，我想象我居住的城市，一半是出于主动，一半是出于被迫。除了市中心那栖居着幽灵的九千九百九十九间半空屋以及那有着历史走向的皇家大道，一个旧北京基本上已经被一个新北京所替代。我并不怀念那个旧北京，因为我从未见过那个旧北京；而那些钢筋水泥的新骨董，根本无法唤起我回到旧北京的感觉。我只是在回味"北京"这个专有名词时，会幽幽然获得一种历史的纵深感，我因此而领会想象的乐趣，我因此思索我的天命所在。北京，一个词汇，除了它的方位所指没有大的改变，它的政治所指、经济所指、文化所指，乃至道德所指均已大不同于从前。我从北京的名与实之间看出了距离。而名与实，或称词与物之间的距离，恰恰是想象的巨大空间。名与实，或词与物，永远只能有瞬间的叠合。那叠合的一刹那，便是创造的一刹那，其余时间，名与实的距离越拉越大，这对想象的好处也越来越大，直到它们之间再也无法维持对称的关系，于是想象的琴弦绷断。”

西川在文中几次提到海子的死、驮一禾的死、戈麦的死和张风华的死，在《生命的故事》中，他回忆了那些不合时宜的朋友和他们的不合时宜的生存年代，以及他们所选择的“义人之路”。在他深深的惋惜之情背后，我似乎感觉到一点点的不安，甚至嫉妒。朋友们死了，正是由于他们悲剧性的死亡和对他们死亡的浪漫渲染（西川本人出力不少），使得他们成了诗歌界的“神灵”，成了不折不扣地精神领袖和偶像。提到海子他们，每个人都感到自惭形秽。我们不具有他们那样的才华去写诗，也缺乏他们那样的勇气去死亡。他们变成了神，因为他们见证了八十年代和那个时代的精神，且身体力行地把对后来世界的失望转化成了极为暴烈的死亡形式。他们在极之年轻的时候选择了死亡，故而他们流传下来的作品都是他们盛年时代最好的作品，因为他们还没来得及写一些次等的作品。一个人写100首诗，根据概率论，至少有五首不怎么样。但是如果你只来得及写了30首，那么说不定字字珠玑，而且别人会想象其他的70首也是传世之作。年轻的诗人们死了，因此他们不用随着年龄的增长而与这个丑陋的世界妥协，他们不用变成萎缩的中年人和无力的老年人。他们的诗就是青春的本身，带着青春所有的锐气和灵感，带着所向披靡的勇气和无畏，完全没有年齿日长所带来的畏惧和彷徨，没有生活压力之下的妥协和沉沦。从这个意义上说，这些死去的年轻诗人是幸运的 — 尼采在《悲剧的诞生》里不是说过，这个世界上最大的幸运就是不必出生，或者尽早死去么？

西川没有这么幸运，他变成了一个衰老的偶像。他的诗非常“理性”，或者说非常的“辛弃疾化”。他不停地掉书袋子,不断地把古往今来的知识分子和文学人物引到书里来，一方面的确有利于意向的展开和情绪的铺展，但是另一方面却给阅读带来巨大的困难。如果你不是像西川一样博学，如果你不像他一样博览群书、走遍世界，那么面对一大堆陌生的人名和地名，你所看到的不过是大量的没有所指的名词而已，这些诗歌对你不会产生任何意义。西川的诗是少数人的诗歌，他不断地提炼自己的技巧，使得他的机构无懈可击，用词完美无瑕，但是他生产出来的是汝窑的精品，不是老百姓也能享用的青花。当然，诗歌从来不是也不应该是“人人的诗歌”，“凡有水井处，人人皆歌柳词”不过是夸张而已。但是，作为一个衰老的偶像，西川是不是在用《深浅》来向诗坛告别？或者他是在委婉地为自己的青年时代谢幕？

偶像如何在自己的黄昏时代自处是一个严肃的问题。因为他不仅要面对世事的变幻，年轻诗人的竞争，而且要挑战年轻时代的自己。弥尔顿提出了对这个问题最好的回答。他在政治失意和失明之后，完成了自己的《失乐园》、《复乐园》和《巨人参孙》三部曲，开创了撒旦诗篇的传统。弥尔顿成名极早，是个少年天才诗人。他的成年时代花费在政治斗争当中，直到晚年才回到文学创作中来。在《失乐园》中，我们看到的不是一个老年诗人对岁月的留恋，而是充满了力量和反叛精神的精神领袖撒旦，他以十倍、百倍的精神挑战自己的命运。但是几千年的文学史中，不就是一个弥尔顿吗？

最近几天网上在纪念王小波逝世十周年，褒贬不一，但是多数文章是在“造神”。中国人似乎有一个倾向，总是借死者说事儿。一个时代有一个时代的偶像，（虽然有的时代出现的是愚蠢的偶像，比如现在），王小波是90年代的偶像，现在我们纪念他到底是什么意思？我觉得以制造偶像的方式来纪念王小波是非常危险的，这种脱离语境、脱离时代环境的无限拔高和过去使用意识形态来制造偶像如出一辙。现在像吹捧韩寒一样来吹捧王小波只有一个后果，就是使他更快的被人忘记。现在的偶像所拥有的是安迪.沃霍意义上的成名，即“everyone should have five minutes of celebrity time”。从这个角度来看，如果王小波活着，他一定会看出这场造神运动的荒谬，而且会拒绝参与其中。我觉得对他最好的纪念，是以他的姿态来思考。我有一个大胆的想象，假如王二还活着，而且变成了一个五十多岁的中老年作家，这十年中他会写出怎样的文字？毕竟他的《黄金时代》已经过去了，他所倡导和代表的新自由主义精神已经得到了社会的普遍认可，他所反对的专制意识形态已经在强大的消费文化冲击下衰退了。在假想敌消失的时候，一个愤怒的小说家应该何为？他会寻找新的值得愤怒的理由，还是取消自己愤怒的姿态，或者开始像西川一样沉湎在回忆中过活？

People mountain people sea

http://www.nytimes.com/2007/04/14/arts/music/14huan.html?_r=1&oref=slogin&pagewanted=print

April 14, 2007 Chinese Composer Talks Cello, All Dialects By ALLAN KOZINN

As Huang Ruo originally conceived it, his new cello concerto, “People Mountain People Sea,” was to have started not with music but with a recorded voice — Mr. Huang’s — speaking in a made-up language, accompanying projected photographs of China in the 1920s. The photographs, by Sidney Gamble, inspired the piece, but after spending an afternoon in a studio recording his speech and trying out this multimedia introduction at the Miller Theater, where the work is to have its premiere tonight, Mr. Huang decided to drop it.

The concerto proper, however, should be no less idiosyncratic without this quirky introduction. Mr. Huang, at 30, writes music in which Western techniques and Chinese timbres, tunings and folk styles mingle, and which often (as in this concerto) require carefully choreographed movements from the ensemble. The work’s title is a direct translation of a Chinese expression that in more idiomatic English translates as “a lot of people.” And people, Mr. Huang said, is what the piece is about. One reason he chose to write for the cello in this contribution to the Miller Theater’s three-year Pocket Concertos series is that he hears the instrument’s voice as almost human. “I have always had this thing about the cello,” Mr. Huang said at his Midtown Manhattan apartment. “It can play up in the violin’s range, but it also has a range where the violin cannot go. It reminds me of one of my favorite Chinese instruments, the ma tou qin, or horsehead fiddle. I’m always listening to that. It has a very manly sound, very nasal, very organic. And that sound is there, in this piece. I use a lot of open-string double-stops to get this very earthy sound, which I have always liked.” To suggest the sound of the horsehead fiddle, Mr. Huang has adorned his score with sliding grace notes and bent pitches. “It’s in standard notation, but the slides and out-of-tuneness are everywhere,” he said. “You know, in China, we never talk about ‘in tune’ or ‘out of tune.’ I think it’s a very Western thing.” He also had a soloist in mind: Jian Wang, who can be seen playing Bach, as a child, in “From Mao to Mozart,” the 1981 film about Isaac Stern’s visit to China. Now 38, Mr. Wang — who, unlike Mr. Huang, has reversed his family and given names in the Western fashion — has a promising international career. Mr. Huang was born in 1976 on Hainan Island, in southern China, and grew up in Guangzhou, not far from Hong Kong. His father, Huang Ying-sen, a composer for film and television, insisted that his son follow in his footsteps and began teaching him the piano. The young Mr. Huang didn’t like it much, not least because he was prone to memory slips. “When I played my own music,” he said, “no one could say I played wrong notes because only I knew the piece. So that was my starting point toward becoming a composer, although I told myself I was going to be a composer because my father told me I would.” When Mr. Huang was 12, in 1989, his father took him to Shanghai to audition at his own alma mater, the Shanghai Conservatory, where the young Mr. Huang was accepted as a composition student at a time when new musical influences were beginning to be heard in China. “I grew up in a China where people started to wear bluejeans,” Mr. Huang said, “and where we would listen to Bach at the same time as pop songs. It could be Michael Jackson, it could be the Beatles. And Stravinsky’s music came to China. I remember hearing ‘The Rite of Spring’ and thinking, ‘My, I haven’t heard anything like this before.’ So for me, there are no differences, no hierarchy. I don’t think of Bach as being greater than a contemporary composer just because Bach is someone everyone should look up to.” Mr. Huang came to the United States in 1995, after he won the Henry Mancini prize at the International Film and Music Festival in Switzerland, as well as a competition at the Oberlin Conservatory of Music in Ohio. Oberlin promised him a full scholarship if he could pass its English entrance exam. That took several tries and nine months of English courses in Los Angeles, but he completed his bachelor’s degree at Oberlin and moved to New York for postgraduate work at the Juilliard School. He has established himself quickly. Another competition victory in 2000 led to a performance of his “Three Pieces for Orchestra” by the Philadelphia Orchestra. Since then, his list of works has expanded substantially, with music for orchestra, chamber ensembles, solo instruments and voice. His four chamber concertos, which made a powerful impression when they were performed at the Miller Theater in 2003, have just been released on CD by Naxos. Mr. Huang joins a parade of Chinese composers whose hybrids of Chinese and Western styles have found success in the United States. But where composers like Bright Sheng, Tan Dun, Zhou Long, Chen Yi and Ge Gan-ru grew up during the Cultural Revolution (1966 to 1976) and were affected by it, Mr. Huang was born just as that period of suppression ended. That has created a striking difference of perspective between Mr. Huang and Chinese musicians only slightly older. Mr. Wang, the cellist, sees Mr. Huang’s new concerto in almost political terms that Mr. Huang — while not rejecting them — said he didn’t have in mind. “In Chinese, ‘People Mountain People Sea’ is like a proverb to us, who grew up after the People’s Republic was founded,” Mr. Wang said in an e-mail message. “It was used very often during the Cultural Revolution to convey a sense of people power. However, to me, and to many other Chinese people, these words also convey a sense of reinforced sameness, suppression of individualism and being part of something so big that no one is noticed. I feel, correctly or not, that this concerto is about that.” Mr. Huang, who received a copy of the e-mail, said he was surprised but pleased by Mr. Wang’s reaction. “What he says is totally right,” Mr. Huang said, “but I did not intentionally write about any particular period or even just about Chinese people. The piece is a more general look back at history. For me, the goal is for people in the audience to hear the music with whatever experience they bring to it. No matter what country, people are people. They may suffer, or crave a peaceful life, or enjoy the moment, or get emotional. All this is in the piece. It’s about a lot of people, doing the same thing or doing different things.”

Jia Yu

Chunjie's baby grows up.

On the Edge: New Independent Cinema from China

http://www.columbia.edu/cu/weai/china-independent-film.html Locations of Screenings:Columbia University: Roone Arledge Auditorium, Alfred Lerner Hall (in bold, below) The Film Society of Lincoln Center: Walter Reade Theater

Schedule of Screenings: Thursday, April 12 7pm Columbia – Opening performance and screening of THE WORLD, dir. Jia Zhangke (Roone Arledge Auditorium) Friday, April 13 3:30 WALKING ON THE WILD SIDE, dir. Han Jie (Walter Reade Theater) 5:20 THE WORLD, dir. Jia Zhangke (Walter Reade Theater) 7:10 WALKING ON THE WILD SIDE, dir. Han Jie (Walter Reade Theater) 7:00pm Columbia – The SILENT HOLY STONES, dir. Wanma Caidan (Tibetan) (Roone Arledge Cinema)9:15 THE ORPHAN OF ANYANG, dir. Wang Chao (Walter Reade Theater) Saturday, April 14 1:30 THE WORLD, dir. Jia Zhangke (Walter Reade Theater) 2:00-4:00 Columbia – Panel Discussion “ China on the Edge”. Held with the Chinese film directors, moderated by Prof. Richard Peña. Free and open to public on Saturday 2:00pm-4:00pm in the Davis Auditorium at the Shapiro Center 3:15 THE SILENT HOLY STONES dir. Wanma Caidan (Tibetan). (Walter Reade Theater) 7:00pm Columbia - WALKING ON THE WILD SIDE, dir. Han Jie (Roone Arledge Cinema) 5:45 THE WORLD, dir. Jia Zhangke (Walter Reade Theater) 8:45 BLIND SHAFT, dir. Li Yang (Walter Reade Theater) Sunday, April 15 1:00 BLIND SHAFT, dir. Li Yang (Walter Reade Theater) 3:45 THE SILENT HOLY STONES, dir. Wanma Caidan (Tibetan). (Walter Reade Theater) 6:15 THE ORPHAN OF ANYANG, dir. Wang Chao (Walter Reade Theater) 8:30 THE SILENT HOLY STONES, dir. Wanma Caidan (Tibetan). (Walter Reade Theater)

两个“世界中心以外”的人写父亲

Copy from http://www.sohoxiaobao.com/chinese/bbs/blog.php?id=78

两个“世界中心以外”的人写父亲

老颓

先是在放老的博客上看到阿城写他的父亲，

又看到土耳其的帕慕克得奖时候的演说，也是写他父亲。

按照帕慕克的说法，这俩都在“世界中心之外”，

两人的用心处还真不太一样，挺有意思的。

转贴如下——

要说明的是，帕慕克的部分是选译，全文找不到电子版，

今年第二期的《世界文学》杂志上有，邓中良、缪辉霞译。\\\

父亲的手提箱（帕慕克）

父亲去世前两年，给我一只小提箱，里面装着他的作品、手稿和笔记本。他用一贯的玩笑、嘲弄的口气对我说，他希望我在他走之后———也就是他死之后再把这些东西拿出来阅读。

“你只要看看”。他表情有点窘迫地说，“看看里面有没有你能用得上的东西。也许我死之后，你可以从中挑选出一些来发表。”

那 时我们在书房里———那里是书的海洋。父亲像一个渴望摆脱令人厌烦的负担的人一样，在房间里走来走去，想找一个地方放手提箱，最后他把它轻轻放在一个不显 眼的角落里。我们一定都不会忘记那一刻的不自在。但是事过境迁，我们又回到了往常的生活中，心情轻松地生活着，老是互相开玩笑，嘲笑对方，都很轻松。我们 像以前一样交谈，谈日常生活的细枝末节，谈土耳其无休无止的政治动乱，谈父亲总是失败的买卖事业，没有感到很悲伤。

记 得在父亲离开后的好几天里，我走来走去，总是要经过提箱，但我一次也没有碰它。这个小小的手提箱，于我已经不陌生了。我熟悉它的锁和圆形边角。父亲短途旅 行时总是带着它，有时候上班还用它来装文件。记得小的时候，每次父亲旅行归来，我总要打开这个小提箱，翻他的东西，闻闻里面的古龙香水的气味，看看那些具 有异国风情的东西。这个小提箱是我熟识的朋友，看着它很容易让我想起童年，想起过去，但现在我甚至不能触摸它。这是为什么呢？毫无疑问，是因为里面所装东 西的神秘的分量。

我抚摸着父亲的提箱，却无法促使自己去把它打开，但我知道一些笔记本里写了什么。我曾经看到父亲在其中的几本上面写过东西。我不是第一次听说小提箱沉重的分量。父亲有一个很大的书房。他年轻时，也就是20世纪40年 代末，曾经想成为一位伊斯坦布尔诗人，还把瓦莱里的作品翻译成了土耳其语。但他不愿意过那种生活———在一个贫穷的国家写诗，却几乎没有读者来欣赏。父亲 的父亲———我的祖父———是一个富有的生意人；父亲小时候和年轻的时候过着舒坦的生活，他不想为了文学，为了写作忍受各种苦难。

作 家就是这样一种人———他们成年累月，很有耐心地努力发掘自己身上存在着的第二个人和造就了他们的这个世界：当我说起写作，脑海里首先想到的不是小说、诗 歌和其他文学样式，而是一个人，把自己关在房间里，独自坐在书桌前，在自我反省；在房间的背光处，他用文字创造出了一个新世界。写作就是一个人完全让自己 归隐，并耐心、执著地研究人们进入的世界，把内心的自省转化为文字。当我日复一日、成年累月地坐在书桌前，慢慢地把新的文字写到空白的纸上，我感觉自己似 乎在创造一个新的世界，似乎在变成我心里的另外一个人。然而一些人以同样的方式，用一块块石头会建造出一座桥梁，一个穹顶。我们这些作家用的“石头”是文 字。如果我们把这些“石头”握在手心里，思考它们之间的关联方式，一会儿在远处观察，一会儿用手指或笔尖“抚摸”它们，进行斟酌，调换顺序，耐心而又充满 希望地不断坚持，我们就会创造出一个新世界。

父亲有一个相当大的书库，总计约1500册书，而这对于一个作家来说已经很多了。我22岁时，也许还没有把它们都看一遍，但我对每本书都很熟悉———我知道哪些书很重要，哪些不重要但却简单易读，哪些是古典文学，哪些书对教育来说至关重要，哪些书是对当地历史的易被忘记却逗笑的描述，父亲对哪些法国作家评价很高。

我 觉得父亲读小说是为了逃避生活，逃往西方———这跟我后来的做法一样。或者在那些日子里，书是我们随手拿起的、又可以让我们脱离自己文化的东西。我们发现 自己的文化是不够完整的。我们不只是通过阅读离开伊斯坦布尔的生活，去西方旅游———也可以通过写作来实现。父亲去了巴黎，把自己关在房间里，在那些笔记 本上写东西，然后把他的作品带回土耳其。

事 实上，我生父亲的气，是因为他没有过像我一样地生活，因为他从来没有跟生活吵架。他的生活是成天快乐地和朋友、亲人一起欢笑。但是我部分地知道，我也可以 说，与其是“生气”倒不如说是“嫉妒”；“嫉妒”这个词也更为准确；而这也让我不安。我用一贯的轻蔑、生气的语气问自己：什么是快乐？快乐的人会想到我在 那个单独的房间过着别人难以理解的生活吗？快乐就是在社会上过着舒适的生活，像其他所有人一样相信同样的东西，或者像你一样采取行动？秘密地进行写作来度 过人生———同时让人看起来似乎与周围的一切相协调———这是幸福或是不幸福呢？但这些都是会让人发怒的问题。我是从何处得到这个想法：美好生活的标准是 快乐？光凭这一点可以证明：如果对立面是对的，我们会努力去发现这个事实吗？毕竟，父亲从家里出走了很多次———我了解他多少呢，怎么能够说我理解他的不 安呢？

一 打开这个提箱，我就看出它旅游过的迹象、认出了几本笔记本，并注意到父亲几年前曾经把它们拿给我看过，但没有花长时间详细说明。我现在拿在手里的笔记本中 的大部分，都是他年轻时离开我们去巴黎的时候写的。然而，就像很多我崇拜的那些作家一样———我已经读过那些作家的传记———我希望知道父亲在我现在这个 年纪时写了些什么，是怎么想的。很快我就认识到，我找不到那种记叙。最让我不安的是，我在父亲笔记本的多处，都不经意地发现作家特有的看法和写作艺术。我 告诉自己，这不是父亲的写作艺术，这是不真实的，至少它不属于我认识的那个父亲。我害怕写作时的父亲就不再是我的父亲。隐藏在这种担心之下的是一种更深层 的担心：担心我内心深处的想法是不真实的，担心我在父亲的作品中不能发现任何妙处，而这使我越来越担心自己会发现父亲受到其他作家的过度影响，担心会使自 己陷入绝望，而那种绝望在我年轻时让我异常苦恼，它投射出我的生活，我的存在，我的写作渴望和我对一些问题的质疑。在写作的最初10年里，我更深刻地感受到这些不安情绪，甚至当我竭力避免这些忧虑时，有时会担心有一天我必须服输———就像我面对绘画时一样———被那些不安情绪征服，也放弃写作。

但 从父亲的提箱和伊斯坦布尔暗淡的生活可以看出，这个世界的确存在一个中心，它距离我们很遥远。我在书中已经详细描述了这些主要的事实如何唤起契诃夫式的乡 土气息感，又是怎样通过另一个途径，让我质疑自己的真实性。我从自己的经历中知道，生活在这个地球上的绝大部分人，都有相同的感觉，许多人承受着比我更多 更深的不足感，缺乏安全和堕落感。是的，人类面临的最大困境仍是没有土地，无家可归和忍饥挨饿……但今天我们的报纸和电视，以比文学更快捷、更简便的方 式，向我们讲述了这些主要问题。今天的文学作品最需要讲述和调查的是人类基本的忧虑：担心被遗弃在外，担心自己的生命没有价值，以及伴随着这些忧虑而产生 的无价值的感觉；集体的羞辱、弱点、冷落、委屈、敏感和想象中的侮辱以及下一个同类的民族主义自夸和自满……不管何时，我产生这种情绪或看到人们表达出来 的无理性、夸张的语言，我就知道他们触摸到了我内心黑暗的一面。我们经常亲眼目睹西方世界之外的民族、社会、国家，我很容易把它们鉴别开来———屈服于那 些有时会令他们做出愚蠢行为的忧虑。这一切都源自他们对羞辱和敏感的惧怕。

父亲在2002年12月去世。

今天，我站在瑞典文学院和授予我这个伟大的奖项（一种伟大的荣誉）的成员以及他们的贵宾面前，内心非常渴望父亲也在我们这些人之中。

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父 亲（阿城）

一九八七年三月某晚我正在纽约夏阳的画室里，这个画室是仓库改建的。旧得好象随时要出危险，但实际上什么意外也不会发生，意外是绕了半个地球从电话里传来的：父亲病重，我立刻准备自美国离去。

从六十年代初，家里就笼罩在父亲病重的气氛里，记得夏天我们在院子里与邻居喧哗，母亲出来制止，我们还小，还不能随时将父亲的病重放在心上。

父 亲的病是在唐山劳改时染上的肝炎，由急性而慢性而硬化，之后，它将是父亲死亡的原因。在随时准备父亲离开我们的时候，文化大革命开始了，父亲是一九五七年 的右派，是死老虎，批斗，陪斗，交代，劳动是象征主义的，表示侮辱，之后，去干校，一切都是当时的理所当然，但是，父亲在理所当然会死去的时代没有死，居 然活到一九七九年。

这 一年，对父亲来说是重要的一年，犹如一九五七年。我记得春节之前的某日，接到电话，晚上回到父亲家里，父亲背对着桌灯坐着，父亲工作时面向桌灯，累了就转 过来，母亲说，组织部来人了，准备在春节前把全国的右派平反的事落实，这当中有你父亲，你怎么看？我只想到，钟惦棐这三个字前将要没有形容词了，但是，我 没有这样说，我知道这件事对母亲是非常重要的。

母 亲在一九五七年以后，独自拉扯我们五个孩子，供养姥姥和还在上大学的舅舅。我成年之后还是不能计算出母亲全部的艰辛，我记得衣裤是依我们兄弟身量的变化而 传递下去的，布料是耐磨的灯心绒，走起路来腿当中吱吱响，中式剪裁，可以前后换穿，所以总有屁股磨成的四个白斑，实在不能穿了就撕开由姥姥糊成布嘎渣做 鞋，姥姥总说膀子疼，一年二十多只鞋要一针一针地做。养鸡，目的是它们的蛋。冬日里，鸡们排在窗台上啄食窗纸上的糨糊，把窗户处理得象风雨后的庙。当时， 全国的百姓都被搞得很艰难。由于营养的关系，小妹妹姗姗体弱多病；三弟大陆去和母亲拔红薯秧来家里吃，兴奋得脸上放光；四弟星座得了一次机会做客吃肉，差 点成为全家第一个死去的亲人，谁都难，但不知道父亲在劳改中怎么过。我做在椅子上，思量怎么说我对平反这件事并不看重，我怕伤母亲的心，可能父亲也会生 气，这毕竟是改变了他一生的事情。

而 且父亲是右派这件事，也对我们很有影响，大哥里满不能上高中，因为我们这样的子弟是不能上大学的，而高中是为上大学做准备的。大哥是读书的人，成绩总是很 好，我至今不知道此事对当时十几岁的他在心理上有何影响；但父亲执意要大哥再考高中。我想，这是一种寄托。大哥一九七八年从插队的地方考上大学，父亲在给 我的信中只陈述了这一事实，不知道父亲写信时于灯下还想到什么？

十八岁那年，父亲专门对我说：咱们现在是朋友了，因为这句话，我省出自己已经成人。中国古代的年轻人在辟雍受完成人礼后，大约就是我当时的心情：自信，感激和突然之间心理上的力量，于是在这个晚上，我想以一个朋友的立场，说出一个儿子的看法。

于 是我说：如果你今天欣喜若狂，那么这三十年就白过了，作为一个人，你已经肯定了你自己，无须别人再来判断。要是判断的权力在别人手里，今天肯定你，明天还 可以否定你，所以我认为平反只是在技术上产生便利，另外，我很感激你在政治上的变故，它使我依靠自己得到了许多对人生的定力，虽然这二十多年对你来说是残 酷的。

父亲笑着说，我的党龄现在被确定为四十年，居然有一半时间不在党内，你妈妈今天炖了锅牛肉，你去街上看看还有没有切面卖，我们吃牛肉面。母亲也很高兴，叙说着今天的牛肉是托谁才买到的，父亲就问有没有蒜，牛肉面没有蒜怎么成！

一 九七九年以后，父亲开始大量地写文章，发表在那年的《文学评论》上的《电影文学断想》，使很多人省悟到他还活着，中国电影出版社要将他一九五七年以前的文 章结成集子，父亲于是让我去了，可以查目录。父亲一一篇《电影的锣鼓》被毛泽东亲自点名，我当时八岁，回答不出老师的诘问、学舌说爸爸是坏人，不会讲敌 人，因为不明白敌人是什么意思。二十多年后，我才亲眼看到这篇文章，复印了拿回去给父亲看、父亲亦有他的感触，出版社怕得罪某某人，将书名定为《陆沉 集》，父亲要用《电影的锣鼓》，最后只有妥协。一个搞地震的朋友，险些上当，经我提醒，才没有买去做工具书。

父 亲的家里，开始有许多人来了，母亲见到某些面孔，提醒他警惕，父亲明白，感慨门可罗雀和门庭若市的变化，但还是来了请坐，提供所需。父亲认识许多死去的 人，他说起五十年代去看老舍的《青年突击队》首演，老舍在应酬之间，低声对父亲说：这样的戏你还来看！他讲过不少赵丹的事，但只写了一篇短文《赵丹绝 笔》，与赵丹的《管的太具体，文艺没希望》同慨。我曾和父亲议论过外行领导内行的问题，我认为应该是外行领导内行，内行做内行的事，擢其做领导，岂不使之 成为外行？岂不浪费？古人说：无能故能使众能，无为故能使众为。父亲说，论起罗织罪名，显隐发微，还得内行，这样的内行当领导，最能伤筋动骨，而外行顶多 闹些“关公战秦琼”的笑话，以求少伤害计，实在应该外行领导内行，我很少发宏论，但常说“我认为”，父亲就讲起他在干校每每作检查时说：“我认为”，于是 遭到批判：极端资产阶级个人主义，检查的时候还在说“我”认为！父亲很感激一个在干校被定为历史反革命分子的人，这个人见父亲的交代总不能通过，便拿去修 改一番，于是父亲的交代不但通过，而且还被示为其他各种分子的临时榜样。父亲询其故，这个人说，我从前在国民党的报纸做事，看家的本领就是这样写文章呀。 父亲又很可惜全国的交代材料都被销毁了，认为应该选出一套“交代文学”来。巴金建议成立文化大革命博物馆，父亲说，其中可以陈列各种交代材料，我附议必须 编一本文化大革命词典，否则后人会很难释读这些交代，例如“交代”；而且副词连用“最最最”会让后人认为祖先有一个时期都是结巴，于是给后世的古人类学， 考古医学，训诂学的研究都造成困难。父亲大笑。父亲身上有两样令我羡慕，一是笑，二是鼻子。在我还不能从理论上辨别对父亲的判决时，只有从父亲的笑声里认 定他不会是坏人。父亲的鼻子，从相术讲，不但隆中，而且悬胆，但父亲的际遇却总是不配合他的鼻子，我想，这和他与电影的关系不无影响。电影发明了才一百 年，相术还不能归纳它，但也难说，靠电影发迹的明星大部分与相好有关。

每 年总有几部影片出麻烦，我向父亲请教其中原因，父亲说，电影是惟一能进中南海的艺术，惟其能进，所以麻烦。我亦对电影剧本必须文学化不赞同，父亲说，那你 叫只懂章回话本的审查者怎么明白你要拍什么呢？我于是明白父亲是知其难为而为者，再好的鼻子也救不了他。母亲常常愤怒于父亲的不休息，我想我理解父亲，某 种人是不能休息的，休息对他们意味着放弃，于是，死亡就显现了。

纽约大雪，美国不大兴送人到门口的，所以夏阳在门外挥手，令我错觉，以为已身处北京，转头便可去医院看父亲，互相说笑话，于是父亲大笑，而且说：洗澡把。

《红楼梦》结束于大雪，猩红的斗篷，两行脚印一个人，离去时留下的，不似曼哈顿街头如斯散乱。

父亲三月二十日去世，因为太平洋上那条人为的国际日期变更线，我在理论上和实际上都迟到了一天。

火 化前，来人川流不息，其中有真正希望父亲消失者，这使得父亲像一个军人，但父亲只是一介连洗澡都不好解决的中国书生。夏天，用布围住院子的角，提水来洗； 冬天，公共澡堂像医院，等叫到才挤得进去。父亲年纪大了，我陪他去，以防晕倒。在热水里，父亲紧闭着眼睛，舒服得很痛苦，我这时想问什么是人生最大的幸 福，又怕他忍不住失言。父亲凡开会住可以洗澡的旅馆，必通知许多同命运者去洗澡，然后大家头发湿湿的坐下来谈洗澡以外的各种事。父亲住医院，也如此办。护 士对湿头发的探视者并不奇怪。沐和浴在中国从上古就是与身体最密切的事，除了饮和食，而且严肃到与心有关。汉以后，日本学去不少沐浴的制式，愈洗愈有名 堂，父亲访问日本回来后，我问观感，父亲说：随时可洗澡；再问观感，说：胜得好惨。虽然有中国电影艺术研究中心在主持料理父亲的后事，北京电影制片厂遣专 人协助，各地电影制片厂仍欲来人，母亲说不出的感激，一一谢绝，吴天明还是从西安电影制片厂遣人助理，此时他环臂立于灵堂之外，不发一言，陕西人是自古见 中国事最多的人之一，他明白这个书生生前做过什么，希望什么，遗憾什么。

我与大哥去捡拾父亲的骨殖，焚化炉前大厅空空荡荡，遍寻不着，工人指点了，才发现角落里摆一铁箕，伏下身看，父亲已是灰白的了，笑声不再，鼻子不再，只有熔化的眼睛，滴落在额骨上。

父亲的像前无以祭，惟有《电影的锣鼓》、《陆沉集》、《起搏书》、《电影策》这几本他的心血文字。

Night--view from tennis court

弱者害怕打电话

昨天我在电话里责怪妈妈什么事儿都不打电话。她有什么事儿都自己藏着，不肯打电话去问，怕人家觉得尴尬。其实都是一家人，有什么要紧的呢？说服了她半天，发现自己其实是在自责。

昨天接到安娜的邮件，问我为什么几个月都没有跟她联系，是不是成心不搭理她了。我扪心自问，发现这其中的原因有一半是出于惭愧，有一半是出于害怕。我和安娜是在写论文过程中认识的朋友，一起去参加学术会议，一起讨论学业中困惑，一起大骂学术制度的不人性，一起谈论电影和文学，两个人的脾气和秉性都很相投。虽然她是俄罗斯人，我是中国人，但我觉得她给予了我很多中国朋友所不能给予的帮助和关心。去年感恩节的时候，她还把郁闷极了的我接到安娜堡，聊了好几天，宽慰我、鼓励我。可是现在眼看着她和其他朋友一步一步地走向毕业和找到工作，自己却卡在这里，我觉得惭愧极了，甚至还有一点点的嫉妒。

从北京回来以后，我忙了两个月，以为自己论文的初稿应该能够通过，结果一败涂地。这样一来，就更没有勇气和安娜联系。我就这样自己一个人缩啊，缩啊，一直躲到自己的壳里。我害怕打电话给她，一方面觉得自己很没出息，另一方面觉得让安娜知道我的窘境也会给她带来负担。可是看了她的邮件，我觉得实在太对不起她了，就给她打了一个电话。因为是Good Friday, 她正在教堂里忙碌。我把自己现在的情况大略说了一下，她说她自己毕业的事也很不顺利。她说朋友不就是用来分忧解难的么？我简直无地自容了。我是这么自私，以为自己的那点破事儿就是世界的全部了，忘了去关心朋友，也不信任朋友能帮助自己。

我惧怕打电话，其实是惧怕别人会了解我的窘境和踌躇，我那一点儿不值一文的自尊让我受不了别人的同情，受不了自己是个弱者这个事实。

我站在金门超市熙来攘往的人群里，到处都是花花绿绿的食品，到处都是人声鼎沸，就像是所有的周末傍晚一样。我就站在那儿发呆。时间穿过我的身体，头脑里空洞洞的。这个星期我已经哭得够多的了，我不想再哭了。接受我是一个弱者和失败者的事实不会给我更多的打击了。这样也好，终于承认了，我对自己的心说。你这个蠢货，现在除了枷锁你什么也不会失去了，我对自己的心说。准备工作吧，做到一个弱者所能做到的最好地步，不要让你的胆怯把你吓倒，不要让你的恐惧成为你逃避的理由。准备工作吧，你自己才是你自己最好的裁判，你自己的工作才是寻找出路的唯一途径。让道路指引我吧，让那些泪水走开。

走出金门，世界还是老样子，除了所有的人都老了二十分钟。没有玉兰花的四月份，鱼店里散发出螃蟹腐烂的味道，我用力地呼吸。呼吸吧，我对自己说，呼吸这世界真实的味道。生命虽然不是我自己选择的，但是只要这一刻我还没有选择死亡，我就应该呼吸、生活、流泪、打电话。

《了不起的盖茨比》

今天早晨，收音机里在讨论《了不起的盖茨比》。费茨杰拉德和Edith Wharton 都是我喜爱的描写纽约的作家。两个人都写上个世纪之初的纽约，一个以讽刺见长，把美国梦的荒谬分析得鞭辟入里。另一个以女性特有的笔触，将爱情背后的阶级和社会冲突娓娓道来。一个小时的节目里，电台主持人和文学批评家一起到长岛探访费茨杰拉德的故居，谈论这部小说对美国文学和人们日常生活的价值。最后，主持人请到一个能够把这部小说倒背如流的演员。主持人随便说个开头，他就能一字不错的接下去，能耐了得。最后，他开始背诵小说的开头，我听了打了个寒颤。

In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I’ve been turning over in my mind ever since.

“Whenever you feel like criticizing any one,” he told me, “just remember that all the people in this world haven’t had the advantages that you’ve had.”

40th Anniversary of Metopera Gala

北大老友

我家老照片

我爸

今天偶然看到黄集伟的博客，他的双胞胎儿子叫“佐思”和“佑想”。他的博客很好玩，有一大半是关于他的儿子们，添犊之情溢于言表。读了以后，我觉得有爸在真好！

不是羡慕别的，就是忍不住想到自己没有爸已经有八年了。我爸三十八岁的那年有的我，我们一起呆了二十二年五个月零二十五天。到今天，我们已经分别了八年3个月零七天。现在我们一家四口人，在四个城市，三个时区，阴阳两界。直到这一刻我才明白，这一家人的缘分原来也有到尽头的时候。爸说走就走了，连个招呼也没打，那会儿还以为他是累了，生病玩玩呢。谁知道，他就真的狠下心走了。现在他也不管我是不是受了委屈，现在他也不管是不是有人帮我写论文、找工作、打开水、找对象。要早知道是这样，以前又何苦那么疼我呢？

今天是清明节，妈去天津给姥爷上坟，哥对这种事儿从来不上心，爸一定是一个人在家。我也是一个人在家。小时候我很犟，一不高兴就离家出走。我最受不了的就是爸妈说我是地震的时候他们捡来的孩子。他们讲得绘声绘色的，我害怕极了，所以赶快出走，省得他们把我赶出来。我出走的极限就是大院儿另一头的幼儿园。日托的幼儿园到了晚上静悄悄的，我一个人坐在跷跷板上，心里又害怕又难过。我在等爸把我找回去，等他说说我不是捡来的孩子。爸总是打着手电筒来找我，牵着我的手回家。现在，我离家出走了几万里，爸却一次也没有来找过我。我也一样， 自出来以后，从来没有在他的忌日回过家。我们的缘分好像就这样断了。

但是，我现在很想念我爸。我想和他一起组装晶体管收音机，一起收听模模糊糊的美国之音，一起到新街口豁口的新川面馆吃担担面，一起看老版的《雪山飞狐》听罗大佑的“追梦人”。我想告诉爸，小时候我更喜欢安徒生童话，而不是他订的《我们爱科学》和《少年科学画报》。我想告诉爸其实他查抄和撕毁哥哥的武侠小说的时候，我比哥还难过，因为他看得慢，我看得快，我知道那些好看的书不该死，哥一点儿也不知道。我想告诉爸我最讨厌他给我讲数学题从来只说明方法，不告诉答案。我想告诉爸我希望他能参加一次我的家长会，听听老师夸我。我想告诉爸我其实一点儿都不想上北大的经济学院，我想学德语、学文学。我想告诉爸我对不起他，他生病的时候我太害怕了，不敢回家面对生病的他。我想告诉爸，是我给他换上的布鞋，送他走的路。我想告诉爸，我现在一个人，受了委屈都没地方说去。我一告诉妈妈，她就在电话里和我一起哭，一点办法都没有。我想告诉爸，这个成年人的世界一点儿都不好玩，当初他应该问问我的意见再让我长大。

隔了这么多年，我发现我和爸其实是陌生人。我对爸的了解几乎是个零。我知道的爸来自四川省会理县，考上了成都电讯工程学院，后来到青海参加核工业建设，随工作单位一起调到了绵阳，又辗转到了北京。他从核工业部应用物理研究所调到了北京市电光源研究所，后来又调到了北京市太阳能研究所。最后赋闲在家。这就是我知道的一切。我不知道他在会理县上中学的时候读书读的怎么样，不知道他在成都上大学的时候有没有交过女朋友，不知道他在青海看到氢弹爆炸的时候是什么心情，不知道他和妈妈第一次经人介绍见面的时候心里是不是忐忑不安。我所知道的爸是一个符号，是父亲，但我从来没有意识到他也是一个有着丰富的内心世界的人。

爸去世以后，我开始看他的笔记和日记。他对语言有特殊的好感，自学了英语、日语、俄语和德语。我们家的书架上全是他收集的各种语言的科学工具书。他喜欢元曲，各种版本都收集。他喜欢历史和科幻小说，所以我们的启蒙读物就是《三国志》、《东周列国志》、《儒勒.凡尔纳全集》、《海底两万里》、《戈兰特船长的女儿》。他喜欢用科学教育我们，睡觉以前常常给我们读《十万个为什么》，并且用居里夫人发现的元素为我们命名。可惜我们兄妹二人都是弱智，谁也没有走上科学的道路。

爸喜欢逛书店，尤其是旧书店，常常把我扔在儿童读物区，然后自己在书堆里面去探宝。那个时候五道口的新华书店和外文书店以及形形色色的小书店收集了不少好书，算是我们八大学院附近有头有脸儿的文化中心。爸和我每个周末去看书, 从五道口的新华书店和外文书开始逛，接下来是成府路东口的高等教育出版社书店，然后是北航里面的新华书店，最后是北医三院门口的书摊，一路逛到天黑。爸每个月都带我去一次首都图书馆或者北京图书馆，我去看电影或者中文期刊，他去看外文期刊。那会儿我太小，还没有身份证，他得费一点儿口舌向门卫说明，我不像看起来得那么无知，已经到了需要图书馆的年纪。中午，我们在图书馆的餐厅碰面，一人一碗方便面，然后各自看书去。傍晚的时候，我们骑车回家，一路上晚霞拷着我们的背，我们就聊一天看书的体会。我对外国电影的兴趣大概就是从那个时候开始的吧。后来我上了高中，喜欢去北大的图书馆，他就说我们道不同不相与谋，各自去各自的图书馆好了。从那时起，我走上了自己读书的路。其实是爸把我引到了这条路上。 在读书这条路上走了这么远，回头都来不及了，也不知道是该感谢他，还是该埋怨他。

我觉得爸有两次特别为我感到高兴。第一次是我考上了《北京青年报》的中学生通讯社。他在报纸缝儿里面看到通过初试的名单里有个名字是“杨针”，他觉得是我，就跟着我一路骑车从海淀到北京二中去参加复试。我们到晚了，不过我还是死皮赖脸的去考了试。靠什么全不记得了，就记得爸听说我录取了，比我还高兴。第二次是我考上北大。虽说是十拿九稳的事，收到录取通知书的时候，全家还是很开心。爸送我去昌平，扛着我的箱子送我到宿舍。然后仔细地带我去侦查了学校的图书馆和食堂，他说，这里不如附中的条件好，跟北大本部没得比，但是要忍耐一下，因为别人的条件也一样。每次周末结束回昌平园，妈都会送我到345车站。有的时候要到马甸等车，有的时候在豁口等车，爸很少送我。但是爸给我写信。挺滑稽的，因为北京的家长们从来不写信，他们开着车来看孩子。我爸写信，告诉我大学是什么回事儿，告诉我种种注意事项，好像我真的在外地上学一样。我真后悔，没有好好保留那些信。要是还有那些信，我现在快抗不住了的时候也可以拿出来看看。

爸开始生病的时候，诊断的是萎症。中医怎么治都不行，后来才发现是胸腺癌晚期。陪爸去看病，心里难受得不行。所以有的周末故意不回家，呆在学校里，觉得能躲一会儿就躲一会儿。当时我正在没头没脑地喜欢一个人，人家不搭理我，我还是扎在那堆朋友圈儿里，希望能引起他的注意。爸走前最后一个元旦，我没回家，去参加老朱在小院的“元旦七讲”。听到第三天，心里觉得不对，也没打招呼就跑回了学校。夜里妈妈打电话，说快到北医三院来，爸爸不好了。夜里打车也没有，只能骑车奔到医院。晚了，急救室里白炽灯亮得刺眼，一切都是白的，爸的脸也是。大夫催着我们签死亡证明书，妈的手抖得签不了，我接过来签的名。就这样，爸在北医三院签了我的出生证明；二十二年以后，我在北医三院签了他的死亡证明。这不是人生的轮回，什么是人生的轮回？

妈常说，爸是一个仁义的人，走得那么痛苦，但都没让身边的人受罪。我一听她说这个，就得哭，自责得心里面像是破了一个洞。八年过去了，这个洞还在那里，但是我已经学会怎么小心翼翼地不去碰它。今天夜里，我为爸点了四支蜡烛，那烛光一照，我心里的洞就露出来了。我变老了，那个洞还是新的，上面都是没干的血。爸，我想你。原谅我吧!

原谅我吧！我不再是那个不懂事的孩子了，我是一个不懂事的成年人。我犯了好多的错，伤了别人的心，自己也摔得头破血流。因为人们会原谅一个孩子，但不会原谅一个不懂事的成年人。我想取得别人的谅解，但是我太胆小，不敢去乞求别人的原谅。至少请你原谅我吧，给我一点儿心里的宁静。告诉我，我现在该怎么做。告诉我，那些书里没有提到过的为人处事的艰难。现在我明白为什么你那么喜欢书了，因为读书的时候，你可以不和人打交道。书不会伤害你，不会忽视你，不会让你痛苦，但是人会! 现在，在你的世界里，是不是只有书没有人？

原谅我吧，为了我现在终于理解了你这个人，不再把你当成“爸爸”这个简单的符号。如果你原谅了我，请帮助我找到和自己妥协的途径，停止无休止的自责，承担起作为一个人的责任。

请安息吧，北京的夜已经很深了，纽约的夜也已经很深了。

雪山飞狐 追梦人MV http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ctEFpK81zB4

Dark Blue World of Brotherhood

Dark Blue World (Czech: Tmavomodrý svět) is a 2001 film by Czech director Jan Svěrák about Czechoslovakian pilots who fought for the British Royal Air Force during World War II. The screenplay was written by Zdeněk Svěrák, the father of the director. The film stars Ondřej Vetchý as František (Franta) Sláma, Kryštof Hádek as Karel Vojtíšek and Tara Fitzgerald as Susan. Ondřej Vetchý is an amazing actor who brings into life the struggle between love and solidarity.

In the end of the film, Franta came back home and found out he was abonded by both worlds: the British (symbolized by Susan) and the Czech (symbolized by his former girlfriend). The frequent flash back to the past gives the film a sense of paradise lost. Life has so much to offer, and we human beings have so much to lost. Where is the delicate balance point of our lives? Where is the everlasting youth and friendship?

According to Wikipedia:

"About one third of the film takes place in 1950, after the war, when the returning Czechoslovak pilots were imprisoned by the new communist government for colluding with the capitalists. Most of these scenes are the interactions between Sláma, and his fellow inmates in the prison hospital (an ex-SS doctor and a convicted burglar). The film switches back between the war and the prison.

The first scene in the film is in the workshop of the prison. Sláma is at a sewing machine when he collapses and is taken to the hospital.

The film proper begins in 1939, just days prior to the German invasion of Czechoslovakia. After the invasion, the Czechoslovakian army is disbanded and the Czechoslovaks have to give up their aircraft. However, Franta and the younger Karel, among others, refuse to submit to their occupiers, and flee to the United Kingdom to join the RAF.

Once they arrive, the British force the Czechoslovaks to retrain from the basics, which infuriates them, especially Karel, who is both impatient to fight the Germans and humiliated to be retaught what he already knows. Karel also sees the compulsory English language lessons as a pointless waste of his time.

Eventually they are allowed to fly, but after their first sortie they realise why the British were training them so intensely: a young Czechoslovak nicknamed Tom Tom is shot down by a Messerschmitt Bf-109.

In the same mission, Karel himself is shot down, but manages to safely crash land and find his way to a farm. At this farm he meets Susan, whom he falls in love with (though the feeling is not mutual; Susan thinks Karel is far too young). The next day, after returning to the aerodrome, Karel brings Franta to meet Susan. The latter begins to get on well with Susan, though Karel believes that he is still Susan's boyfriend.

A sort of love triangle develops, though it takes Karel quite some time to realise that Susan has feelings for his commander, and it is not until late in the film when he realises that they are in a relationship with each other.

Following a mission to France where the squadron attacks a train, Karel is shot down and Franta lands to rescue him, a move that shows that the two's friendship endures. But soon after the mission, Karel learns about the relationship between Franta and Susan, which leads to a quarrel.

A few missions later, Franta's airplane has a malfunction and is forced to ditch into the ocean. His inflatable life raft bursts as he tries to inflate it and Karel decides to help him by giving him his own raft. While attempting to drop the raft, Karel collides with the water surface and dies. (But the raft emerges from the water, so Franta is rescued.)

The movie ends with Franta returning to Czechoslovakia, where he finds his girlfriend married."

I started to read Coelho's Fifth Mountain.

songs

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9ytjPOFP-rE Introduction of Cui Jian - Chinese R&R Superstar http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N-FEiZVJOas

如果方程欺骗了你

如果方程欺骗了你，

不要悲伤，不要气馁！

在苦恼时需要镇静：

那你所期待的结果，相信吧，定会来临。

心儿向往着显著的回归结果；

尽管现在的系数令人沮丧：

一切都是中间结果，一切都会过去；

而那过去了的，将会被扔进历史的垃圾桶。

看到这样的戏仿，普希金会不会被气晕？