《The Quiet American》Graham Greene

I saw that she was doing her hair differently, allowing it to fall black and straight over her shoulders.  I remembered that Pyle had once criticized the elaborate hairdressing which she thought became the daughter of a mandarin.  I shut my eyes and she was again the same as she used to be: she was the hiss of steam, the clink of a cup, she was a certain hour of the night and the promise of rest.

"You can rule me out," I said.  "I'm not involved.  Not involved," I repeated.  It had been an article of my creed.  The human condition being what it was, let them fight, let them love, let them murder, I would not be involved.

A chance of death?  Why should I want to die when Phuong slept beside me every night?  But I knew the answer to that question.  From childhood I had never believed in permanence, and yet I had longed for it.  Always I was afraid of losing happiness.  This month, next year, Phuong would leave me.  If not next year, in three years.  Death was the only absolute value in my world.  Lose life and one would lose nothing again for ever.  I envied those who could believe in a God and I distrusted them.  I felt they were keeping their courage up with a fable of the changeless and the permanent.  Death was far more certain than God, and with death there would be no longer the daily possibility of love dying.  The nightmare of a future of boredom and indifference would lift.  I could never have been a pacifist.  To kill a man was surely to grant him an immeasurable benefit.  Oh yes, people always, everywhere, love their enemies.  It was their friends they preserved for pain and vacuity.

Time has its revenges, but revenges seems so often sour.  Wouldn't we all do better not trying to understand, accepting the fact that no human being will ever understand another, not a wife a husband, a lover a mistress, nor a parent a child?  Perhaps that's why men have invented God - a being capable of understanding.  Perhaps if I wanted to be understood or to understand I would bam-boozle myself into belief, but I am a reporter; God exists only for leader-writers.

If only it were possible to love without injury - fidelity isn't enough: I had been faithful to Anne and yet I had injured her.  The hurt is in the act of possession: we are too small in mind and body to possess another person without pride or to be possessed without humiliation.

《Eating Vietnam: Dispatches from a Blue Plastic Table》Graham Holliday

    I'd taken over the rent from a friend who had worn out his tenure in Viet Nam after a two-year quagmire of failed relationships, lost money, and drunken brawls. He'd shipped west, to Bangkok, to repeat the process.

    Vietnamese people were always preparing something to eat, cooking something, buying something to cook with, talking about what to cook, eating something they'd cooked, eating something somebody else had cooked, talking about how good or bad what they'd cooked was - always eating, cooking, and talking about eating and cooking.

    I had very quickly grown bored of Hanoi's nightclub scene.  Unlike pubs and clubs I had known in the UK, it didn't offer an escape from anything, but rather served as a reminder that my fellow expats were almost exclusively losers, psychotics, deadbeats, junkies, and alcoholics.

《The Natural History of Love》Diane Ackerman

      Although the hunt figures magically in the life of the tribe, because it's fraught with danger and excitement as berry-picking is not, the women's foraging is regarded as equally important because it provides most of the daily food.  Cooperation is vital for all, both in hunting and foraging. Depending as they do on the land for sustenance, such tribes usually have a deep mystical relationship with their environment.  They display the sorts of qualities we treasure most in ourselves; hospitality, generosity, affection, honesty, and charity.  In fact, these mean so much to us that we call them 'virtues,' and if asked to define the highest hallmarks of being human, we would refer to them, perhaps adding compassion, kindness, and reason.

    To the hunter-gatherers, these 'virtues' are not carefully appraised ethics or options, oreven preferences, but instinctive strategies for survival.  They make it possible to coexist in a small closed society that would crumble without them.  Even though we have evelved from bands of hunter-gatherers, and retain their instincts and traits, those virtues don't help us as much now in the sprawling societies we've invented.  But we still cherish them.  Living among the Lk, contrary to everything he expected to find, Turnbull was first sadden, then angered and horrified to conclude that love of one's children, parents, and spouse, "far from being basic human qualities" are merely "superficial luxuries we can afford in times of plenty."  For the Ik had become truly monstrous.  They had lost their ability to love.  

      Once up on a time, the Ik had been prosperous hunters.  But when the Ugandan government forbade them to hunt in the Kidepo National Park, which was part of their homeland, the Ik had no choice but to frantically  attempt to forage and farm in the neighbouring mountains, which were parched and lunarlike.  The mountains were so fissured and barren that one couldn't walk more than a hundred yards without stumbling into a ravine several hundred feet deep.  But there was nowhere else to go.  After only three generations of drought and starvation, the Ik became hostile, selfish, mean.  They had abandoned love along with other so-called virtues because they could not afford them.  It was simple economics.  Every waking second - squatting at their toilet, performing sex (a rare act), eating - was spent scanning the horizon for possible meals:

On one occasion I saw two youths on ridge high up on Kalimon masturbating each other.  It showed some degree of conviviality, but not much, for there was no affection in their mutuality; each was gazing in a different direction, looking for signs of food.....

    Competition for scraps of food was constant, sadistic, conniving, and cruel.  The most basic social currency became worthless.  People greeted family, tribe members, or strangers alike with the imperative "Give me food" or "Give me tobacco."  Schadenfreude became the highest form of humor; the Ik would hurt, deprive, or in some way cause misfortune to others - even their own child - then roll around laughing about it.  One of their favorite pastimes was to lie convincingly to or successfully exploit another.  Pulling off that con was a rich delight, but even more pleasure came from then telling the victim he or she had been duped and watching the pain it caused...

      ...People felt no loyalty or emotion toward relatives, even immediate family.  If children died, the parents were thought to be lucky.  Turnbull tells of the time he saw a new mother set her baby down on the ground and go about her business, only to discover later that a leopard had carried it off.  This thrilled everyone, including the mother, because it meant that she didn't have to continue nursing, but it also suggested that an animal was nearby that they might be able to kill more easily, since it was bound to be sleepy and sedated from eating the baby.  This indeed turned out to be the case, and they tracked the leopard, killed, and cooked it, "child and all."



    Psychophysiologiest Gary Lynch has found that deeply emotional events stimulate the brain cells more than usual.  Those neurons then become sensitized to similar events.  Whenever the experience is repeated, the neurons become more and more responsive.  This happens because with each repetition of the experience and enzyme signals more receptors to become available at the synapse, which in turn allows in more and more information.  This would explain why "practice makes perfect," and why one can learn a foreign language, or how to perform dentistry, if one applies oneself long enough.  Children learn languages fast and easily when they're very young, while adults find the same task nearly impossible.  This is also true of emotional vocabulary and grammar.  As Anthony Walsh wisely remarks,

The information communicated to children during the critical early years of life regarding their self-worth and lovableness contributes strongly to their later evaluations of their own worthiness or unworthiness.  One study of self-esteem showed that early parental nurturance completely overshadowed all other factors examined in explaining levels of self-esteem among college students.  If love is so tremendously important to us throughout the lifespan, it is imperative that the brain's "love trails" be well and truly trodden during these period.  Deeply etched love trails in the brain will strongly predispose the infant in later life to respond to the world with caring, compassion, and confidence.

    Why is this so important?  Because "later communications, even if they are positive, will tend to be relayed along the same negative track as though some mischievous switchman were stationed at a crucial neurological junction ready to derail any train of pleasurable thought or feeling."  To love, one needs to have been loved.  Unloved children often grow into adults for whom love is a foreign land, and sometimes their fate can be even more calamitous than that.



    For us, the drug of closeness is a powerful hypnotic and sedative.  we are touchoholics, we are attachment junkies, we are affectopaths.



    Tribespeople in New Guinea who had never seen an airplane (or even wheels) before, ran up to a bush plane just after it landed, and asked its pilot two critical questions:  What does it eat?  Is it male or female?

《無聊的魅力》Alain de Botton

憂傷的快樂

    觀賞一幅畫的時候，我們也許會意識到這件作品對我們而言深具重要性，但卻不是我們所能夠擁有的。因此，我們買下印有這幅畫的明信片，並且張貼在書桌上方（我的書桌前方就有幾張霍普作品的明信片），原因也許是這幅畫象徵了我們想要成為的人 － 同時也認為內心深處實際上就是這樣的人 － 所具備的情感結構，所以我們想要把這麼一件具體象徵隨時擺放在身邊。藉著每天看見那幅畫，希望自己能夠感染到那幅畫的部份特質。我們喜歡的也許不是那幅畫的主題，而是其中散發出來的調性，亦即畫家透過色彩與形狀傳達出來的情感態度。我們知道自己當然會遠離那樣的狀態；我們知道要永遠保持畫中那種情緒是不可能的事情，甚至在實際上也不可行；而且我們也知道自己在生活中必須展現出許多不同面向（以堅定的態度大膽表達意見，或是說出隨性幽默又帶有父母權威的話語）－ 不過，我們仍然樂於有這幅畫在身邊提醒著我們，穩定我們的心緒。

《食記百味》吉本芭娜娜

12

附近有家我稱它“姊姊們的店”的咖啡廳。
去年夏天，心愛的狗死了時，我每天失魂落魄，在那一帶散步好幾次。
最大的目的，是想在打烊之前的“日本茶喫茶”喝杯香醇的日本茶，吃些小餡餅或煎餅，為這一天做個結束。這麼決定後，立刻找到了趕在打烊前抵達的目標店家。我如果不這樣做，這一天就無法結束。因為狗不在了，夜晚來臨時感到特別空虛寂寞。
白天散步時，總是順路在姊姊們的店裡吃刨冰，就覺得自己今天推著嬰兒車走在陽光燦爛的路上時沒有一直哭、也做了些活動，還吃了可口的刨冰，應該沒問題的。
姊姊們雖然不會哄孩子，但是親切大方。孩子吵鬧時，她們不會生氣，也不會皺眉。默默把兒童用的盤子、叉子和湯匙擺好。我走的時候，她們還湊近孩子的臉說：Bye-bye.
如果沒有那家日本茶喫茶和姊姊們的店，我會搬來下北附近嗎？不，應該不會。因為住家附近有那樣溫暖的好店，非常重要。

51

。。。
我從過去的少數經驗知道，有事情就找專家解決。關係越親近的家人越容易耍賴，做出可怕的事情。任何世界的專業人士都擅長取得平衡，即使稍有失敗，也不會強辯歪理，立刻採取行動補救。有不愉快，面對面談開，立刻修復關係，是最好的方式。絕不壓抑累積情緒。這也是我學到的。
我想，經歷過某些有點麻煩的事情後，確實可以學到一些東西。人生不是可以捨棄之物。
不過，懶惰的我還是在做夢，希望有一天，那種只有家人獨處、房間也髒的懶散生活日子再來。

《文人訪談錄》廖亦武

亡詩人海子鄰居孫文

    又有四年多沒見孫文了，他好嗎？電話號碼變沒變？現在我和他的距離相當於和海子的距離。活人不見面，也同死了差不多。

    ：我評論不了這種事。我同海子是鄰居，天天見面，尚且不知道他要去死，我怎麼可能瞭解顧城呢？他死在外國，風景如畫的紐西蘭，比海子浪漫多了。可他幹的事不太浪漫。他得到女人的愛太多，一旦別人不像過去那樣百依百順，他就受不了。如果把顧城得到的寵愛、得到的機運分丁點給海子，他至今還歡天喜地地活著呢。

就是死，也沒有公平可言。我是俗人，只能說這種俗話。


民刊主編羅吉

    ：送不送誰是一門學問，這關係到下一步的國際知名度。哎，你我八O年代，一年要寫一百多首詩吧？除了偶爾發表混點稿費之外，還得賠錢辦民刊，我從來沒做過出國夢。而現在，我一年只寫十幾首詩，卻已經跑了十幾個國家，參加了五個詩歌節，得了三次國際獎，當了兩回訪問學者，自己沒掏一分錢腰包，還白賺一個美籍臺灣老婆。不錯吧，老威？現在我是兩岸四地跑，大陸、美國、臺灣、香港。人生就像玩牌，在大陸時，我玩美國牌，玩歐洲牌，訪問學者、什麼雞巴獎的得主，誰誰誰的評價等等，唬得人一愣一愣的。我已經出了幾本詩歌、散文集，還搞過簽名售書，上過中央電視台的讀書節目，此外，我一年之中要做無數次文化晚會的特約嘉賓。而在美國，我玩中國牌，異見詩人，受官方壓制，不能發表作品的詩人，民刊編輯者，地下文化火種的傳遞者，民主自由戰士等等，也唬得人一愣一愣的。國際文化基金會、寫作計劃、文學講壇總拉不下我；可在臺灣和香港，我就大陸牌和美國牌一起打，時而愛國時而反共，時而夾雜兩句“Yes” “No”。他媽的，我終於迎來了騎著民刊作威作福這一天！


流浪漢王響

    ：走之前和走之後有故事。在路上的故事肯定有，但比走路精彩的不多。我這個人，也許開始流浪的時候，有很明確的功利目的，可當我豪情滿懷地走在正道上，路旁突然竄出一條瘋狗，咬我屁股一口就跑；我的天性受不得氣，就去攆這條狗，欲除掉而後快。然而，過了一會兒，狗不見了，我卻找不到回去的道，只有照一種慣性走下去。不料路旁又竄出一條瘋狗......。如此一而再、再而三地重演狗咬人、人追狗的戲，我離自己最初的正道越來越遠。

這就是你的流浪故事？

：對，那狗就是命運吧。

《民間訪談錄》廖亦武

吹鼓手兼嚎喪者李長庚

    ：沒有改過行。只是改過調。迎解放，扭秧歌，我們的喪事班子就搖身一變，嗩吶齊奏《解放區的天是明朗的天》。跟著來的政治運動也一樣，發動群眾，少不了文藝演出。領導定什麼調就吹什麼調，藝人嘛，日求三餐，夜求一宿，哪有那麼多不滿情緒。告訴你，三年自然災害餓死人一片接一片，我也照吹天下太平調。孝子當多了，人就沒啥心肝，這世道，千萬來不得熱血奔騰，今天大鳴大放，政治寬鬆，該你“奔騰”，好了，“奔騰”夠了？勞改去吧，尾巴一夾就是幾十年。所以，為人就是要沒心肝。

《十年一覺電影夢》張靚蓓

    苦了六年，我第一次回臺灣參加金馬獎。久別台北，有些地方我還搞不太清楚。金馬獎頒獎前三天的活動，我就傻里傻氣的從頭到尾每個都去，坐輛大巴士跟著中影代表團吃流水席，我覺得奇怪怎麼沒見別的導演來，就我一個人。那年入圍最佳導演的還有《阿飛正傳》的王家衛、《牯嶺街少年殺人事件》的楊德昌及《阮玲玉》的關錦鵬。

金馬獎在台北世貿中心舉行一個演唱晚會，我這才知道臺灣還有這麼宏偉的會堂，當時只覺得那些歌支支動聽。有一天徐楓請吃飯，陳凱歌、王家衛、張國榮等人都在座，那些菜真好吃，我一想到遠在美國的太太不能同享，心裡面很難過，就跟身旁的王家衛說了說。真是憋得太久了，氣剛順過來，還不太習慣。


    其實要求演員表演全都得自然，這已經是不真實、不自然、有問題的，捫心自問，連導演自己都不是這樣子的。因為生活當中絕大多數的時刻，我們面對旁人也都是在自我控制狀況下演戲，就算自己一個人獨處時，都不見得完全坦然的面對自己。人的自然裡也包括著不自然，要做到不著痕跡，很不容易。我覺得戲劇和人生還是有點差別。當然在生活中我們反應事體時，未知狀況很多，不能如詳讀劇本後般的預知後事，演戲時要避免這種“預知”的不自然。


    我一再的問自己，在李慕白心中，玉嬌龍到底是什麼？這團糾結是否就是“藏龍”？是一種“自我毀滅”的力量在背後驅策著他？！就像賭徒，不是求贏，而是求輸的。沒有輸乾淨，不到毀滅自我，他是不會停止的。看到這個女孩，他就知道將有不詳的事情發生，就像青冥劍的“冥”字，看著就令人發毛。眼見一個女孩那麼有吸引力，就是會心膽發怵；明知沒好事，卻惡向膽邊生；知道毀滅就在後面等著你，但還是忍不住的往她那邊走。人就是有一種“自我毀滅”的傾向，這與“浪漫”是非常類似的力量，亦即“感性”。擋不住的。擋得住，你這個人也沒啥味道了。對李慕白而言，就如同是一種難捨行走江湖的興奮感，也牽引著他走向最後的悲劇。


    有對白用語現代感十足的“白話”，因為連古文裡都沒這種語辭。如“自由”，據鍾阿城考證，中國到1894年尚無此名詞，還是明治維新後日本人從英文譯過來，我們再從日文翻過來。“自由”現在很普遍，因考慮背景時代是清朝，就改成“自由自在”。