Revolutionary Road - Richard Yates

And I didn't even want a baby, he thought to the rhythm of his digging. Isn't that the damnedest thing? I didn't want a baby any more than she did. Wasn't it true, then, that everything in his life from that point on had been a succession of things he hadn't really wanted to do? Taking a hopelessly dull job to prove he could be as respoinsible as any other family man, moving to an overpriced, genteel apartment to prove his mature belief in the fundamentals of orderliness and good health, having another child to prove that the first one hadn't been a mistake, buying a house in the country because that was the next logical step and he had to prove hiimself capable of taking it. Proving, proving; and for no other reason thant that he was married to a woman who had somehow managed to put him forever on the defensive who loved him when he was nice, who lived according to what she happened to feel like doing and who might at any time - this was the hell of it - who might at any time of the day or night just happen to feel like leaving him. It was a sludicrous and as simple as that.


... but the worst part - the worst part of the whole weekend, if not of his life to date - was the way April was looking at him. He had never seen such a stare of pitying boredom in her eyes.

It haunted himi all night while he slept alone; it was still there in the morning, when he swallow his coffee and backed down the driveway in the crumpled old Ford he used for a station car. And riding to work, one of the youngest and healthiest passengers on the traini, he sat with the look of a man condemned to a very slow, painless death. He felt middle-aged.


Stumbling down the wooden steps and out into the darkness, grinding the pebbles fiercely under his heels, he felt all the forces of the plausible, the predictable, and the ordinary envelop him like ropes. Nothing was going to happen; and the hell with her. Why wasn't she home where she belonged? Why couldn't she go to Europe or disappear or die? The hell with this aching, suffering, callow, half-assed delusion that he was in "love" with her. The hell with "love" anyway, and with every other phony, time-wasting, half-assed emotion in the world. But by the time he'd reached the last row he was jelly-kneed and trembling in a silent praryer: Oh God, please don't let the car be free.


"Have you thought it throught, April? Never undertake to do a thing until you've-"

But she needed no more advice and no more instruction. She was calm and quiet now with knowing what she had always known, what neither her parents nor Aunt Claire nor Frank nor anyone else had ever had o teach her: that if you wanted to do something absolutely honest, somthing true, it always turned out to be a thing that had to be done alone.

小團圓

「你們這裡佈置得非常好﹐」他說。「我去過好些講究的地方﹐都不及這裡。」
她笑道﹕「這都是我母親跟三姑﹐跟我不相干。」
他稍稍吃了一驚道﹕「你喜歡什麼樣的呢﹖」

深紫的洞窟﹐她想。任何濃烈的顏色她都喜歡﹐但是沒看見過有深紫的牆﹐除非是個舞廳。要個沒有回憶的顏色﹐回憶總有點悲哀。

她只帶笑輕聲說了聲「跟別的地方都兩樣。」

*

她寫了首詩﹕
「他的過去裡沒有我。
寂寂的流年﹐
深深的庭院﹐
空房裡晒著太陽﹐
已經是古代的太陽了。
我要一直跑進去﹐
大喊『我在這兒﹐
我在這兒呀!』」

他沒說﹐但是顯然不喜歡。他的過去有聲有色﹐不是那麼空虛﹐在等著她來。


“你就是犯賤”她恨恨地拭淚﹐“你就是賤。”
他站在那裡﹐一句話不說。見他紋風不動﹐臉上不知什麼表情﹐她不想再看下去。轉身﹐去廚房給他做了餛飩。

你就是犯賤。她罵自己。你就是賤。

Demian - Hermann Hesse

28
說句老實話﹐有時候我對於浪子懺悔、回頭是岸的結局﹐簡直感到惋惜。

55
具有勇氣和個性的人總是讓人心生恐懼。

66
假如你懼怕某人﹐那代表了你賦予他這個權力。

112
種種恐懼、可憎的感覺﹐反倒安慰了我﹐因為至少它是感覺﹐至少它還有火花。

134
鳥奮力衝破蛋殼。這顆蛋是世界。若想出生﹐就得摧毀一個世界。

163
假如我們怨恨一個人﹐我們恨的是在他形象中德某些東西﹐這些東西也是我們本身所擁有的。凡是我們本身沒有的東西﹐並不能激動我們的心。

我們看見的事物﹐和處於我們內心的事物﹐是同樣的東西。沒有任何事物比我們內心得事物來得更真實。這也就是為什麼大部份人過著不真實的生活﹐因為他們不把這些意象視為真實﹐不讓內心的世界表達出來。雖然這樣可以過得很快樂﹐可是一旦我們知道了怎麼一回事﹐就再也不會選擇跟其他人一樣的路。大部份人走的是一條簡單的路﹐我們走的卻是一條坎坷的路。但還是要走下去。

183
他的職責是﹕找到自己的命運、不是一個隨意的命運﹐而且在那之中盡情生活﹐全心全意、不受動搖地生活。除此之外﹐其它一切都不完整﹐是一種逃避的企圖﹐是想要逃回群體的樣板中﹐是為了適應自己內心的恐懼。

205
對他們而言﹐人性是某種已經發展成熟的東西﹐人們必須保存它、保護它﹔在我們看來﹐人性卻是一種必須尋覓的遙遠未來﹐沒有人認得這個未來的圖像﹐也沒有任何地方記載了它的法則。