《朋友之間 Between Friends》Amos Oz

《朋友之間》

她什麼話也沒說，站在煤油暖氣旁邊，雙手抱肩，對大衛達甘的手指無動於衷，只是盯著窗上的雨水。

納胡望著她。她的樣子恬靜而專注，好像在想著完全不同的事情。好像她的思緒已經飛走，不打算在兩個比她大三十歲的男人之間做出抉擇。也許她從來就煤油打算做出抉擇。

此時，只聽得到雨水不斷地擊打著窗框，流進水溝。屋裏的煤油暖氣發出舒適溫暖的火光；偶爾，還可聽見煤油在暖氣內部的輸送管裡沸騰。

納胡問自己，你為什麼到這裏來？你真的認為你能斬殺巨龍，釋放受誘惑的公主嗎？你應該待在家裡，等候她歸來。她畢竟只是把一個孱弱的爸爸換成一個強大的父親。然而這個強大的父親很快會令人感到乏味。她和他在一起如同和我在一起，她為他煮咖啡，週一把他的衣服拿到洗衣房，週五再取回來。也許她會厭倦這一切。如果你不這麼急忙冒雨來到這裏就好了；如果你明智地待在家裡，靜靜地等候她，她遲早會回來，或者向你解釋她的所作所為，或者讓你知道這種愛情已經結束了 — 愛情是種傳染病：控制你，又將你解脫。

大衛說：“等等，給我一分鐘，把事情理順。納胡，你我儘管在如何管理基布茲問題上持有異議，但友誼把我們連在一起。現在我們之間又有了一種牢固的聯繫。就是這樣。沒什麼不好。我要在全體大會上提出上大學前強制勞動三年的想法。你顯然不會支持我，但在你內心深處，你也知道我是對的。至少在大會上不要阻止我獲取多數人的支持。喝你的咖啡吧，都涼了。”

埃德娜說：
“爸爸，別走。等雨停了再走。”

接著又說：
“別為我擔心。我在這裏挺好的。”

納胡選擇不做回應。他沒動女兒給他端來的咖啡。他後悔來到這裏。他真的想要什麼？要征服愛情嗎？突然，燈光的反射讓他的鏡片閃爍了一下。他頓時覺得，愛成了人生的另一個障礙：當你面對它時，不得不低下頭，一直等到它過去為止。再過一分鐘，大衛達甘也許會開始討論政府，或是談下雨的優點。苦難有時會從性情溫和之人的心底汲取罕見的無畏，這無畏，在納胡阿塞夫嘶啞的聲音中加進了刺耳、苦澀的腔調：

“這怎麼可能？”

他忽然起身，從破舊的外套裡掏出那本高階阿拉伯語課本，打算用力把它拍在桌上，讓杯裡的小勺子叮噹作響 — 但最後一刻，他收手了。他把書輕輕放下，小心翼翼地不把書弄壞，也不損壞被子或舖著塑膠布的桌子。他摸索著走向門口，轉身看見女兒站在哪裏神情憂傷地望著自己，雙手抱肩；而他的好朋友仍然坐在那裡，翹著腿，有力的雙手握著杯子，面部表情複雜，交織著憐憫、寬恕和嘲諷。納胡使勁伸長脖子，前傾著頭，大步走向門口，好像打算用頭去撞門。走出大門時，他沒有砰地甩門，而是輕輕把門帶上，彷彿怕把門或門框弄痛了。他把帽子拉低到幾乎蓋住眼睛，豎起衣領，沿著通往松林的濕漉漉小徑走去。他的眼鏡立即蒙上了一層水霧。他把外衣最上面的釦子扣好，左手緊貼前胸，好像書還揣在裡面。與此同時，外面天色昏暗了下來。

《父親》

莫沙伊離開時，外面幾乎全黑了。莫沙伊心中驟然滿布一種自我憎恨之情，這種情緒已經不止一次出現了。他摘下貝雷帽，放進書包，把袖子挽到手肘，沒有扣襯衫的第一顆釦子。醫院前面的小花園裡只長著荊棘和匐匍的冰草。有人把餐巾紙遺忘在長椅上，還有人把睡袍的腰帶丟在荊棘裡。莫沙伊注意到這些細節，是因為他一向被細節所吸引。他想到了雀絲卡，她告訴他要留心生病的母雞，要在牠們把疾病傳染給整個雞場之前將其隔離。他想起正躺在某個草坪上的同學：男孩的頭枕在女孩的大腿上，唱著懷舊歌曲。其中一個男孩，泰米爾（也可能是德洛爾，或是吉待恩，或阿龍）的一頭金髮正枕在卡蜜拉的大腿上，大腿的溫熱正撫慰著他的臉頰。現在莫沙伊願意付出一切，只求置身於那裡，永遠做他們當中的一分子。然而他很清楚，永遠不會有這樣的事。

《鄉村生活圖景 Scenes from Village Life》Amos Oz

《歌唱》

大約二十年前，達莉雅和亞伯拉罕列文有個獨子亞尼夫。那孩子的性格有些孤僻。長到十幾歲時，他變成老是悶在自己自己房裏的少年。他小時候，我來串門子，他總喜歡把整個頭貼在我的肚子上，甚至藏到我的套頭衫裡面。有一次，我還給他買了隻烏龜作為禮物。四年前，大概十六歲的他有天走進父母臥室，爬到他們床下，用父親的手槍打中了自己的頭部。他們找遍整個村子，找了一天半，卻不曾意識到他就躺在他們的床下。達莉亞和亞伯拉罕甚至躺在床上睡覺，卻不曾意識到兒子的屍體就在他們身下。第二天，清潔婦來收拾房間時，發現他在哪裡，身體蜷縮，如同睡著一般。他沒有留下半張字條，於是在朋友之間流傳著幾種說法；有人這麼說，有人那麼說。後來，達莉雅和亞伯拉罕為唱歌的學生設立了一個小型獎學金，因為亞尼夫有時會在村合唱團唱歌。

《我的米海爾 My Michael》Amos Oz

奧茲唯一以女性角度寫成的長篇小說，彷彿他12歲自殺的母親上身一樣的敘事寫作。在階梯上滑倒相遇的父親母親很快結婚，熱愛文學的母親很快發現實際的父親並非她能長期相處的對象，然而孩子來了，她心思總在其外徘徊。當然《愛與黑暗的故事》更直接，但不愧於26歲的作家降靈之作。男作家寫的女性意識流。


“我有沒有告訴過你，漢娜，傑尼雅姑媽一直想要給父親再找個太太？她幾乎每次來看我時，都帶來一個朋友或熟人：年老色衰的護士、波蘭移民、皮包骨的離婚女子。女人們從向我發動攻勢開始，擁抱，親吻，一盒盒的糖果，喁喁私語，父親卻一直假裝不明白傑妮牙姑媽的意思。他總是很有禮貌，談話多半是從地方官新頒布的法令開始，以及諸如此類的事情。

“我一直發燒，體溫很高，整夜發汗，被子都濕透了。父親每隔兩三個小時都要換一下床單。他小心翼翼地挪動著我，但總是做過了頭。我會醒過來哭叫。天亮前，父親會在洗手間把所有的床單洗乾淨，摸黑走出門，晾在外面的曬衣繩上。漢娜，我不要在茶裡放檸檬，因為胃灼熱得厲害。燒退以後，父親會出去從鄰居格洛伯曼店裡用特價給我買一副跳棋，每局他都設法輸掉。為了哄我高興，他會咕噥著，雙手抱頭，叫我“小天才”、“小教授”、“小札爾曼爺爺”。有一次，他竟然開口講孟德爾頌一家，並戲稱自己為第二位孟德爾頌，此乃大孟德爾頌之子，孟德爾頌之父。他預言我有遠大的前程。一碗接一碗地替我弄不帶奶皮的蜂蜜牛奶。我要是執拗不喝，他便會哄騙利誘，把平凡無奇的我誇得天花亂墜。就這樣，我康復了。漢娜，要是不介意的話，把煙斗遞給我好嗎？不，不是這個，是英國製的那個，較小的那個。對，就是它。謝謝。等我的病好了，父親卻被我傳染，換他發燒大病一場，在傑尼雅姑媽的醫院住了三個星期。他生病時，莉亞姑媽主動來照顧我。兩個月後，她們對我講，要不是運氣好，就是奇蹟降臨，他才能死裡逃生。父親還曾經拿此事大開玩笑，他引用格言說，偉人們英年早逝，幸好他自己只是個凡人。我曾經站在客廳，對著 Theodor Herzl 像發誓，父親要是突然死去，我也會想辦法死掉，我才不去孤兒院或是莉亞姑媽那兒呢。漢娜，下星期我們給亞伊爾買一輛電動火車。買個大的，就像他在雅法路卡里曼 - 本鞋店櫥窗裡看到的那個一樣。亞伊爾很喜歡機械的東西。我再送他一個壞鬧鐘，教他拆開再裝好，說不定將來亞伊爾會成為一個工程師。你注意到了沒有，這小孩對馬達、彈簧和機械有多著迷？你有聽過四歲半的孩子竟知道收音機的原理？我從不覺得自己特別聰明，這你是知道的，儘管我父親認定或者他說他肯定，我也不會覺得自己是天才。我沒什麼奇特之處，漢娜，但是，你應該盡量去愛亞伊爾。這樣做比較好。不，我不是說你忽略了孩子，沒有這回事。但我覺得你對他並沒有熱情。漢娜，有時候人必須要狂熱，甚至熱昏了頭也沒關係。我說這話是非常想讓你從現在做起...... 我不知如何表達這種感情。算了。幾年前，你我二人坐在咖啡館，我看看你，又看看自己，我對自己說，我並非像別人所言，生來就是一個夢中騎士或白馬王子。漢娜，你漂亮，非常漂亮。我跟你說過了嗎？上星期在霍隆時，父親說，儘管你不會寫詩，但在他眼裡你就是個詩人。漢娜，你看，我不知道為什麼現在對你說這些話。你什麼也不說，我們當中總是有一個人在默默的聽著。為什麼現在要對你講這些？當然不是想冒犯你或是傷害你。噢，我們別再說亞伊爾的名字了，名字畢竟不能決定我們怎樣對待孩子。我們其實傷害了一種脆弱的感情。漢娜，有朝一日我會問你，為什麼你在身邊這麼多特別的男人中竟選擇了我？但現在太晚了，我的話太多了，一定讓你十分吃驚吧？現在你該去鋪床了吧？我馬上就來幫你。我們睡覺吧，漢娜。父親死了，我自己也成了父親。所有世事的安排，在突然間，就像一場愚蠢的兒戲。記得我們曾在住宅邊一塊沙地附近的空地上玩遊戲：我們排成長長的一隊，第一個人拋球，然後跑到隊尾，直到最後一位變成第一位，第一位又變成最後一位，一而再，再而三。我想不起遊戲的目的是什麼了，不記得怎樣才能在遊戲中取勝，甚至忘記了在這場瘋狂的遊戲中是否有章法可循。妳忘了關廚房的燈了。”

《Shooting an Elephant》George Orwell

Shooting an Elephant

They did not like me, but with the magical rifle in my hands I was momentarily worth watching.  And suddenly I realized that I should have to shoot the elephant after all. The people expected it of me and I had got to do it. I could feel their two thousand wills pressing me forward, irresistibly. And it was at this moment, as I stood there with the rifle in my hands, that I first grasped the hollowness, the futility of tht white man's dominion in the East. here was I, the white man with his gun, standing in front of the unarmed native crowd - seemingly the leading actor of the piece; but in reality I was only an absurd puppet pushed to and fro by the will of those yellow faces beyond. perceived in this moment that when the shite man turns tyrant it is his own freedom that he destroys. He becomes a sort of hollow, posing dummy, the conventionalized figure of a sahib. For it is the condition of his rule that he shall spend his life in trying to impress the 'natives' and so in every crisis he has got to do what the 'natives' expect of him. He wears a mask, and his face grows to fit it. I had got to shoot the elephant.

I had committed myself to doing it when I sent for the rifle. A sahib has got to act like a sahib; he has got to appear resolute, to know his own mind and do definite things. To come all that way, rifle in hand, with two thousand people marching at my heels, and then to trail feebly away, having done nothing - no, that was impossible. The crowd would laugh at me. And my whole life, every white man's life in the East, was one long struggle not to be laughed at.

Bookshop Memories

......We also sold sixpenny horoscopes compiled by somebody who claimed to have foretold the Japanese earthquake. They were in sealed envelopes and I never opened one of them myself, but the people who bought them often came back and told us how 'true' their horoscopes had been. (Doubtless any horoscope seems 'true' if it tells you that you are highly attractive to the opposite sex and your worse fault is generosity.)

Looking Back on the Spanish War

159
People forget that a soldier anywhere near the front line is usually too hungry or frightened, or cold, or, above all, too tired to bother about the political origins of the war. But the laws of nature are not suspended for a 'red' army any more than for a 'white' one. A louse is a louse and a bomb is a bomb, even though the cause you are fighting for happens to be just.

164
Still, I did not shoot partly because of that detail about the trousers. I had come here to shoot at 'Fascists'; but a man who is holding up his trousers isn't a 'Fascist', he is visibly a fellow creature, similar to yourself, and you don't feel like shooting at him.

What does this incident demonstrate? Nothing very much, because it is the kind of thing that happens all the time in all wars. The other is different. i don't suppose that in telling it I can make it moving to you who read it, but I ask you to believe that it is moving to me, as an incident characteristic of the moral atmosphere of a particular moment in time.

166
One of the effects of safe and civilized life is an immense oversensitiveness which makes all the primary emotions seem somewhat disgusting. Generosity is as painful as meanness, gratitude as hateful as ingratitude. But in Spain in 1936 we were not living in a normal time. It was a time when generous feelings and gestures were easier than they ordinarily are.

167 Fake News

Early in life I had noticed that no event is ever correctly reported in a newspaper, but in Spain, for the first time, I saw newspaper reports which did not bear any relation to the facts, not even the relationship which is implied in an ordinary lie. I saw great battles reported where there had been no fighting, and complete silence where hundreds of men had been killed. I saw troops who had fought bravely denounced as cowards and traitors, and others who had never seen a shot fired hailed as the heroes of imaginary victories, and I saw newspapers in London retailing these lies and eager intellectuals building emotional superstructures over events that had never happened. I saw, in face, history being written not in terms of what happened but of what ought to have happened according to various ' party lines'.