Erenlai - Identity and Self-Realization 認同感與自我實現
Identity and Self-Realization 認同感與自我實現

Identity and Self-Realization 認同感與自我實現

 

 

Where do I come from? Where do I go?... These contributions offer tools to explore the complexities of identity, overcome contradictions and recognize one’s true self.

你的文化認同感很薄弱嗎?這裡的文章帶領你探索認同感的建立、矛盾的根源與自我意義的覺察。

 

 

Thursday, 01 January 2009

From Harare to Taipei

你怕老吗?你了解老人吗?你对老年生活有什么期待?
其实,人们从出生的那一刻起就在变老。
一如花开花落、四季流转,世间所有人都脱离不了这条轨道。

杨培珊 撰文

张老太太今年九十八岁,照台湾的算法应该过百岁生日了。但她告诉子孙,不要宴客或送礼,只要到佛庙点灯,替家人求平安就好。张老太太现在和女儿同住,生活充实而快乐,而且人缘极好,虽没读过书,但口才流利,诗词对句信口拈来,尤其「讲四句」的功夫更在邻里间首屈一指。她以前常被请去「接新娘」、「说好话」,现在无法出远门,但邻居仍常来听她讲古。
陈伯伯是位退休的银行经理,目前住在一家老人养护中心,两次中风使他下肢瘫痪无法行动,但他个性相当乐观,经常帮忙其他老人和来访的家属,还协助工作人员办理一些庆生会和节日活动。由于他的开朗和迷人风范,中心的工作人员、住民及家属们都感到如沐春风,整个院内的气氛都活泼快乐了起来。

从以上例子可以看出,不管社经地位高低、居住安排为何、健康是否无虞,老年生活同样能够过得积极而有意义。关键在于是否能以勇敢的态度面对生活,或能否在他人的协助及支持下进行有意义的活动,并妥善调整自己的心态和生活方式,完成有助于自我发展的生活目标。研究显示,如果老人对自己的生活有决定权、觉得生活有意义、不感觉拖累家人,那么他们的生活满意度也相对较高(注2)。换句话说,老人家需要的是自主与尊严。

无论你想不想要
打从出生,我们都在变老

什么是「老」?其实人们从出生的那一刻起就在变老。只是人们习惯把小孩或年轻人的变老描述为「成长」或「发展」,而把三十岁之后身体器官开始走下坡的过程称为「老化」(注3)。这样的说法可能比较好听,但也模糊了生命的本相。由这个角度看来,「老」其实无所谓好与不好,喜欢不喜欢,它就是那么自然的一个过程,由出生开始,然后一直进行下去。
目前全世界最长寿的国家是日本,其人口平均馀命为八十二岁,其中男性七十九岁,女性八十六岁。想想看,我们的人生规划有到八、九十年那么长吗?很多人都很难想像人生可以那么长,大家常说:「我可不希望活那么老!」但现实是不论我们想不想,现代人的确是一种长寿的物种。我们必须从小开始,调整我们对生命的预期,为不同阶段做好生活的规划。
国家及社会也必须有所调整,设计新的政策与制度来面对。由两千年到二○五○年间,世界上六十五岁以上的老年人口成长预计将超过一倍,由总人口的6.9%增加到16.4%。台湾的老年人口比率于一九九三年底已超过7%,正式达到联合国定义的「高龄化社会」,之后老年人口的比率更快速上升。经建会预估,到二○一七年,台湾老年人口将占总人口的14%,大约每七人就有一位是老人;到了二○二五年,台湾将成为超高龄社会(super-aged society),老年人口将达到总人口的20%(注4)。因此,在个人以及国家社会的层面,都必须尽早准备,才能不忧不惧地面对老年世纪。

成功老化
生命本身就是一种创造

现今老人工作强调的是健康老化(healthy aging)、成功老化(successful aging)、复原力老化(resilient aging)等概念。创造力与成功老化之间的关连相当值得重视。正如我曾访问的一位六十九岁长者所言:「生命本身就是一种创造,特别当你老了,将有许多时间思考所面临的考验,并想出解决方法。」或如另一位所言:「创造力给你一种兴趣、一种盼望,它能填满你的时间和心灵。人总得有个兴趣,没有什么比做一件新工作更有趣的了。」
老年期的「复原力」可定义为:一种存活下去、克服疾病、失能或其他重大失落的能力。详细分析其元素,复原力包括有能力重新诠释压力的意义、能以正向的精神面对及适应压力、维持掌控感、有弹性的想法和作法,以及能运用社会支持与资源。复原力并非无视或否认生命中的暗潮与苦痛,而是一种正向、开朗、「一笑抿恩仇」的能量。

破除歧视
每一个老人都是独特的

许多人都很怕老,也不了解老化的过程,「老人」成了落伍没用的同义词,好像人一老就成了过气商品,失去了价值,再没有什么可以贡献的。这就是所谓的「老年歧视」(ageism)。
通常对老人负面的态度在孩童时期就形成了。有些父母也许是在不注意的时候谈到家里的老人家「麻烦、罗唆、难伺候、老顽固」,孩子就听进去了。即便一句随意出口的话,像是「我才不要像阿嬷一样活那么老呢!」都会使老化的负面图像深入许多人的心中。
媒体也得负很大的责任。想想我们在电视电影、报章杂志上看到的几乎都是年轻的影像,偶有老人出现,不是住疗养院、坐轮椅的,就是孤独无依的拾荒老人。人们看久了,要想把老人看成对家庭和社会的宝贝,确实很困难。
很多人会说:「我很尊重老人家,哪会歧视他们!」老年歧视这个语词在这个讲求「政治正确」的年代,听起来会惹人非议,大家都懂得撇清。其实我们每个人对老人的态度可能源自于以前跟老人相处的经验、媒体中呈现的老人形象,以及文化中普遍流传的一些说法。但这些既定的印象并不一定符合事实。现在,您不妨试著回答下列的问题,看看您对「老」是否存有恐惧或刻板印象:

·老化对你个人而言意味著什么?
·想到老,你最害怕的是什么?
·对老年生活,你有什么期待?
·什么样的人看起来比实际年龄年轻?什么样的人看起来比实际年龄老?
·老年人现在拥有什么是他们以前年轻时没有的?什么是他们以前有,但现在没有的?
·假设你现在已经老了,你平常生活作何消遣?你会和谁在一起?住在哪里?

其实,每个老人都是独特的,丰富的生活历练使每个老人都与众不同。聆听老人诉说过往,或许就能理解为何老人会有今日的形貌与想法。他们的路走的长,看过的风景自然也多,经验的差异性也大。因此,比起年轻人来,老人彼此之间的差异性可能还要更大些。

性别差异
女人较长寿、贫穷比例高

男女两性在老化的过程中呈现出明显的差别。女性的平均馀命较长,已开发国家女性的平均馀命比男性约多五至七岁(注5)。在至少三十五个国家中,女性平均馀命已超过八十岁,如亚洲的日本、香港,欧洲的瑞士、法国,美洲的加拿大等。东非地区生存环境差,女性平均馀命仅有四十七岁。但落后地区男女两性平均馀命差距较小,以东非地区为例,两性平均馀命仅相差两岁。
就婚姻状况而言,因丧偶、离婚或未婚之故,老年女性比较可能处在无配偶状态,老年女性的健康问题也比较多。此外,在经济安全方面,由于不稳定的职业生涯历程,老年女性中经济匮乏者的比例比老年男性更高。

拥抱老年
平心迎接生命花开花落

常听到有人说:「怎么活著活著,不知不觉就老了?」生命就是这么自然,老也是自然的一部分。如同春去秋来、四季流转,其间充满了变化,人的一生也是如此。由生至死,一如自然界中的花开花落,不论你是权能富贵,还是一介平民,都脱离不了这条轨道。
笔者在台湾大学社工系教授「老人学概论」,课堂作业之一是请学生去访问老人,题目中包含对死亡的看法。许多学生选择访问他们的祖父母或外祖父母,但这些学生的中年父母亲往往表示「不要和阿公阿嬷谈到死,不吉利。」但当学生硬著头皮去访问时,却常惊讶地发现,原来他们从来未曾好好地了解老人家的想法。老人家通常需要有人听他们谈一谈自己的丧事要怎么办,东西如何分配。当然子女们总是期待父母能长命百岁,不想谈论死亡,但如果不了解老人家的想法,一旦时候到了,他们必须为老人家做决定,就无法知道是否符合老人家的愿望。
还记得我小时候常常害怕,万一有一天父母亲去世,那我也完了。从事老人工作后,也曾迟疑如何面对尸体,如何向家属致哀。慢慢地,我成长了,不但在工作中不再害怕犹疑,更能聆听、支持与鼓励老人和家属们谈论死亡,并进行相关的准备。当工作人员和老人及家属们一起走这趟生命之旅,我们彼此都感觉平安与宽慰,彷佛被生命之流温柔地拥抱与接纳…

注释

注1 本文由梅陈玉婵与杨培珊合著《台湾老人社会工作:理论与实务》(台北:双叶书廊出版,2005年)之第一、第二章摘编而成。
注2 Mui A. C., Choi, N. G., & Monk, A.(1998). Long-Term care and ethnicity. Westport. CT: Greenwood Press.
注3 Hooyman, N. R., & Kiyak, H. A. (2002). Social gerontology: A multidisciplinary perspective. (sixth Edition). Boston, MA: Allyn and Bacon.
注4 请参阅经建会发布的〈中华民国台湾97年至145年人口推计〉报告。该报告亦指出,台湾社会老化速度越来越快,从高龄化社会(aging society)转为高龄社会(aged society)只需要二十四年(西方国家需要五十到一百年),而从高龄社会转变为超高龄社会只需要八年。
注5 World Health Organization. (2000). Women, aging and health. Retrieved January 2, 2002 from http://www.who.int/inf-fs/en/fact252.html

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【人籁论辨月刊第56期,2009年1月】

附加的多媒体:
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Thursday, 01 January 2009

Interview with Fatim Jobarteh

内在与外在之间的停格,请欣赏笨笃的诗作,

诗作 笨笃

-1-
La cérémonie
La cérémonie du thé
S’épuise avec cette goutte.
Toi, dehors, près de la route,
Tu mets l’eau sur le brasier.

典礼

茶的典礼,
一滴一滴被饮尽。
你在外界在路旁。
拿水浇在炭火上。

-2-
Encagé
Dans la cage : un canari.
Bloqué dans la gorge : un cri.
Dans la nasse : un poisson pris.
Dans mon corps : mon c镢ur dépris.

掏空

笼子中,一只金丝雀。
喉咙中,哽住一声啼。
鱼篓中,一只鱼被抓。
肉身中,我心被掏空。

-3-
Sortir
Hors du creux d’où jaillit l’eau
Qui dit le son de l’écho ?
Hors du gosier de l’oiseau
Qui du chant crierait le mot ?

外界

空孔涌出的清泉,
谁说出回音的声源?
鸟儿喉咙的外界,
谁从歌声呐喊字句?

-4-
Feu d’artifice
Perdu parmi le corps de signes,
Resterai-je en ce tourbillon,
Ou rentrerai-je en l’embryon
Qui ourdit l’explosion des lignes ?

烟火

迷失在身体的信号,
我将停留在漩涡中,
或是重回胚胎?
谁策划线条的爆发?

附加的多媒体:
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Thursday, 01 January 2009

捕捉夢想的羽翼

在台灣以「飛羽攝影」享有盛名的「素蘭阿嬤」,正如許多傳統主婦,在剛卸下家計重擔時,除了幫兒子帶小孩,也曾進出股市。後來,她不僅開始學英文,更圓了過去悄然埋藏的攝影夢。如今的她,儘管聽力消退,但仍持續拍照,也加緊腳步習畫,並熱衷學習電腦影像處理。請聆聽這位愛鳥阿嬤與她的長子邱銘源,在點滴回憶與朗朗笑聲中,分享他們動人的「鳥故事」!請記得打開電腦的音量。

陳文怡 採訪

-1-
人籟:請邱媽媽先回憶一下,您以前在照相館當學徒時,有沒有發生過什麼有趣的事?

蘭:嗯,還好啦,就是有時候幫人家拍照啊。(笑)

人籟:嗯?您那時候會幫人家拍照嗎?

蘭:有。那時候是在室內,都要打燈,而且那時是靠人工架燈。

人籟:所以您那時候就開始用相機拍照了嗎?

蘭:對,可是是用照相館的那種相機。

人籟:是很大、有布罩著的那種?

蘭:對。

人籟:那時候怎麼想到去照相館當學徒?是您自己想去照相館當學徒?還是家裡幫妳選的?

蘭:是我自己選的。

人籟:真的嗎?

蘭:因為我爸爸是種田的嘛,他們都不管我們的事,而且因為在鄉下耕田,不知道外面的事,要自己選擇。

人籟:那您怎麼會那時候就選擇到照相館當學徒?

蘭:我剛開始也不是當照相館學徒,原先是學美髮。

人籟:啊?您那時候有學美髮?

蘭:有,有學美髮。但學了一段時間,不感興趣(笑),就再看報紙,看人家在徵照相館學徒,就去應徵。(笑)

-2-

源:我解釋一下。拍鳥的鏡頭現在大概都定焦的,畫質會比較好。

源:拍鳥要很有耐心,因為你都是要定點跟,就是說要放腳架。你說你要拿著600mm這樣到處追,通常都是去拍鳥的人後來都要追鳥報,掌握得很好,然後就是等。

人籟:邱媽媽您從小就很有耐心嗎?因為拍鳥要很有耐心,就像剛剛邱先生說的,那您從小就很有耐心嗎?

蘭:耐心喔?是拍鳥才開始耐心的。
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更多內容,請見【人籟論辨月刊第56期,2009年1月】

附加的多媒體:
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Monday, 29 December 2008

The Bipolar Polar Bear

Once upon a time, there was a rather short and stocky polar bear living in the vicinity of the North Pole. This particular ursus maritimus was probably the first bipolar polar bear ever recorded in the Annals of the Carnivores Psychiatric Society. As the mere mention of his mental condition might awaken some fears in the reader, let us hasten to add that Polar was an amicable animal, and prone to make friends. Mentally and physically, he had kept some features of a cub, which explained why people and mammals alike thought him to be much younger than he actually was.

How could our likeable Polar be diagnosed as bipolar? This was due to a strange mixture of genetic and ecological factors. From his youth, our bear had indeed shown a propensity to wander by himself throughout the Arctic immensities - at times retreating north when he was beaming with such energy that even in the hardest winter he was feeling so hot that he would have willingly relinquished his prized and immaculate white fur -, at other times feeling so lonely, lifeless and cold that he would advance south in search of a place where the overwhelming coldness pressuring his body and soul would somehow be mitigated.

It so happens that our bear was living at a time where man-induced global warming was transforming the ecology of the North Pole. In the southern marshes where Polar was looking for warmth and comfort the change in fauna had finally induced the arrival of troops of bees that were actively growing a local industry of Arctic honey – not the sweetest you could eat, for sure, but still a hitherto new treat for Polar, who soon developed some features and habits of his close cousin, Grizzly Bear. Genetic and ecological factors were thus mixing in a strange alchemy: by the very fact of going south and eating a healthy dose of honey the psychological balance of our bear was indeed restored for a while – but the new diet was also making him progressively feel manic, hot and restless, till he had to retreat again towards the icy solitude of the North Pole. There, after a few weeks or months he was miserable and cold again, thus migrating southwards and going back to the habits and habitat proper to a well-behaved grizzly bear. This was still a livable condition after all, but the lack of balance, the endless wandering from his white to his brown psychic poles were giving Polar a feeling of helplessness that was weighing on him even during his most manic periods.

One day, as his mania was recessing and he was once more on his way towards the southern marshes of the Arctic and their booming honey business (in places when, a few years back, there had been only blocks of frozen ice), he stopped for a while, and engaged in a conversation with a large band of migrating birds. Our bear, I have noted, was an amicable and considerate Polar, and even in the midst of depression he always tried to be sociable – even if sometimes the effort proved to be too great for him.
- Polar, sang the birds, are you again going southwards to get your cure of honey?
- Yes, sighed Polar, and after a few weeks or a few months, feeling again hot and manic, I will be compelled to go back to the Pole. The only thought of this absurd travel is enough to make me gulp a full barrel of fresh honey, even though my psychotherapist has told me to beware of honey addiction.
- But you do not have to go back!" cried a bird. "As a matter of fact, I have meant to tell you for a time: We, birds, circle around the whole surface of the earth. Did you know that, if you continuously walk southwards you will finally encounter a place - a much bigger place than even this one - that is still fully covered with ice and snow?
- No, said the bear, suddenly interested, I did not know this.” (He was much more versed in psychology than in geography.)
- Well, you’ll first have to go through really hot countries, but it’s worth the trip. My advice is as follows; make the most of your depressive span for travelling southwards, without ever stopping. Since it is during that time that you always feel hopelessly cold, the heat should not indispose you. With a bit of luck, as your depression usually lasts for a few months, you will feel hot and manic again just when you will be approaching the South Pole.
- The South Pole?” repeated Polar, intrigued.
- The South Pole, yes. In my opinion, this is where you belong. There, you will find a species of flightless birds (May Heavens spare me to ever meet with such a destiny!) who are even more bipolar than you are. It might kill you as it might save you...”

Bipolar animals... Where he had been living, Polar had never met with anyone suffering the same fate as his. That sounded most interesting. Maybe they could work out a kind of support group of something.
- How do you know they are bipolar?” he asked, hoping to learn a little more.
- Being a flightless bird is bad enough, and it makes you develop all kinds of psychological troubles I suppose… Anyway, their plumage is all black in some parts and all white in other, and this seems to reflect the endless changes in their mood. You, polar bears, are all-white mammals, and, as a rule, quite stable in mood - except when you are feeling really, really hungry. You were ill-lucky to get that sickness, but all of this might not have happened if the climate had not changed so much – look, honey is now harvested where good, solid ice used to be the only thing to be found. Be careful: one day, if you stay in this land of the doomed, the heat and the honey will make half of your fur turn a dirty brown...”

The threat was enough to scare Polar (He was very proud of his white fur, the one thing that was anchoring him into normalcy.). So, pushed at the same time by fear and attraction, he underwent his long and perilous trip towards the South Pole. He took advantage of his depressive stage for travelling under the hottest climates, feeling cold and miserable even at the Equator. How he survived such a trip is not part of our story. His natural sweetness, the crush for polar bears that men have inexplicably developed, his canny abilities and mere luck, all of this explains why he was already well into the southern hemisphere when he realized that the all too well-known transition from depressive to manic stage was about to happen.

Exactly at the point when he was feeling dangerously ebullient he entered the Antarctic. His excitement was even greater as he was experiencing so strong a cold that his usual feeling of surrounding hotness was admirably balanced by the meteorological conditions. He met with an agitated troop of penguins, which soon surrounded him and started to deluge him with questions. At first, Polar was surprised by the short size of his new friends, by the noise and agitation that seemed to reign everywhere, and by the casual style of their questions and conversation. He was used to be treated with more deference. But he was in a splendid mood, happy to discover a new white continent, and he was very much amused by the jocosity of the penguins.
- Hi, Polar! My name is Pingu…” said a young female penguin, probably the prettiest and most impertinent member of the band.
- Hmm, hello Pingu…” said Polar.
- You’re truly impolite, Polar, responded severely Pingu. I am giving you my first name and you should tell me yours. What are you called besides Polar?”
- I am just… Polar,” said Polar hesitantly. (All bear anthropologists know that, like Eskimos, Mongols and Tibetans, polar bears use only one name.)
Pingu thought for a while.
- Then, you’ll be Teddy!” she decided.

This did not truly enchant Polar, who liked to be just called Polar, but he said nothing. Anyway, he would soon realize that there was not much to be said when Pingu had spoken. So, Teddy-Polar started his new life on the Antarctic with his new friends and his self-appointed girlfriend (though they were not able to go very far in their relationship, for reasons too obvious to be stated here). He soon realized that penguins were indeed decidedly bipolar animals, and that they lived their bipolarity in an intense, bellicose but sometimes almost playful fashion. Overpopulation was making things even more explosive. On the ice field it was a constant outburst of psychodramas. Weirdly, this atmosphere had a therapeutic effect on Teddy. He was feeling calm and self-controlled in comparison. He was often called for being the arbitrator of penguins’ quarrels, and, on the whole, the change of surrounding proved to be most beneficial. He was just somewhat apprehensive of Pingu’s sudden furies, laughter and melancholies. She was so intense in the expression of her emotions that even her fellow aquatic, flightless birds were calling her the Bipolar Queen. Still, when listening to her anguishes, drying her tears, smiling at her jokes, Polar was feeling less and less bipolar, and he decided that the Antarctic continent was indeed home to him, a land where he would dwell happily and forever.

The problem arose because of the long tales he was serving penguins about the lost, spoiled Arctic kingdom. They were met with fervent interest by his listening crowd – no auditor listening to him more intently than Pingu. The idea of a land that was becoming kind of geographically bipolar, where you could dine on seals or honey according to your mood, where brown earth and white icecap were now fraternizing with each other, where you could at will harmonize outer climate and inner feelings, all of this was most appealing for a structurally bipolar species. Still, most penguins could not yet envision such an intercontinental travel. Not so with Pingu. She soon was pestering Polar, imploring him to go back to the Arctic with her and to settle together in a land so adapted to their common mental condition. For once, the usually weak and subservient Polar firmly refused - he was not going to forsake his so difficultly won equilibrium, he would not leave the white paradise where he was by far the least bipolar of all surrounding sentient beings. The discussion became heated to the extent that, at some point, he flatly told her that he did not want to be called “Teddy” anymore – that was infringing on his identity and dignity. For Pingu, such a rebellious, insensitive claim was the final straw. She plunged into the icy water, took a deep dive towards the north – and she was gone.… Needless to say, in the weeks and months that followed, both of them wept bitterly over their quarrel and would have happily reunited. But it was too late. Pingu and Polar were too proud for coming back on what had been. Besides, it might be that their fate was indeed sealed from the start: Pingu was made for living on the Arctic, and Polar on the Antarctic.

In the course of years, they received frequent news from each other through obliging migrating birds. Pingu had safely reached the North Pole and had found a land of ice and honey that suited her needs and her dreams. Still subject to emotional ups and downs she was at home in a country ravaged by climate change the way her soul was permanently affected by inner and outer currents. And there were around white and (more and more) brown bears with whom she could relive her polar days… Pingu was eventually able to make the most of her condition. In her new environment she developed her ingrained sense of leadership to such an extent that she came from being called the “Bipolar Queen” to becoming simply and grandly the “Polar Queen.” The news about her that kept being brought by the birds took on such a mythic dimension that they were at the origin of the large-scale migrations of penguins from the south to the north that the two following centuries would witness.

Similarly, Polar found a solitary ice field where he could remember Pingu while achieving through meditation the balanced, wise and peaceful outlook for which he would be so celebrated afterwards. He had truly overcome his bipolarity (maybe caused more by ecological than by genetic factors after all), and the birds would celebrate the “Sage of the Antarctic” till the farthest reaches of his land of birth. Traumatized by the continuing warming of their territory, in search of a new home and of a leader, the depleted population of polar bears would then start its exile from the North to the South Pole.

And this is why, several centuries later, when Polar and Pingu have now become enduring legends, white bears live on the Antarctic while penguins proliferate on the Arctic.


Photography by Kevin Dooley (some rights reserved)
See Kevin Dooley’s photographs on Flickr

Attached media :
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Monday, 29 December 2008

海角七號與其他

在加露林魚木前,我咀嚼著那第七封信裡無法完成的愛,我想我已經來得太遲。風起,花落繽紛如秋之殘酷天問。

石計生 撰文

-1-

老師,您現在應該還在沉睡吧!在您睡著之後您所熱愛的台灣最近流行看一部電影《海角七號》。我也看了。我終於看了。我在街頭漫無目的地行走,試著走到台大醫院前理出一個頭緒說給您聽。我先走進一個夢境般美麗的公園,就在您家不遠處的新生南路上的大安森林公園,我在音樂台上席地而坐試圖調動那天邊的雲彩。仍然是的老師,我從永康街那邊來帶著丹堤咖啡來,今天的天好藍好亮,雲好白好近,雖然偶而會有烏雲交疊在音樂台前演出著,從北向南趕著路,老師,坐在排成弧形的數不清的長椅上,暗下來的世界我彷彿看見年輕的那人摔爛的吉他兀自彈唱著,回到那恆久是春天的南方國度。為了瓶中沙。無限水平線。芒果結實纍纍的南方。老電風扇吃力地搖擺慶祝著永遠新婚的溫存。是的。我就是那年輕人終於離開我操他媽的該死的開不完會的台北。回到土土的,飄著雨的國境之南的滿州里蔚藍海岸,什麼都不做就躺在那沙灘上,讓低垂呢喃的星空擁有我以光年計算其距離的愛淹沒我以千朵萬朵壓枝低的素白花朵埋葬我過勞的閃亮胴軀。老師,我想您一定去過的,混和著鹽味的風催促著在地林投樹驕傲地茁壯著,混和著國語、台語和日語的全球音樂語言,從那天我在外雙谿308研究室迴廊所瞥見的彩虹這頭,經過台大醫院也一定就這樣一路跨越北迴歸線到了國之南境那頭吧。老師,我多麼希望此時和您能長久比肩,跟您說著我的夢想,屬於浪漫去流浪看山看水組個搖滾樂團的夢想或者也拍齣電影,說說我們那時代的故事。屬於雪霸之上稀有台灣種鳳仙花的故事。因為路途遙遠。完美而虛幻。我沉迷不可自拔於其中,老師,我故意說些令您經濟理性擔心的事,虛幻的事,希望能讓您能夠專注於醒來的事業,坐起,以炯炯有神對我訓誡說「你要試著欣賞不完美的美」。

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老師,您在沉睡中還聽得見我說的話吧。如您所知,台北每天都有超載的事情發生,今天我撿這有趣的給您聽。一齣票房已經破了四億的台灣自製電影《海角七號》。我也看了。我終於一個人看了。我在街頭漫無目的地行走,試著走到台大醫院前理出一個頭緒說給您聽。我從紫藤廬出來後完全無意識地在溫羅汀隨便亂走。這個轉角,那個轉角,什麼花草,怎樣建築都熟悉自然相遇。老師,我從戒嚴時代做您的學生以來,已經在這裡閒逛二十幾年了。老師家是無論如何不可能不經過的。我看著粲然明備的天空,似乎在趕路的藍天裡的浮雲自北徂南,剛好經過您家的屋頂,刺眼的光芒黯淡了家的視野。我止步。我拿起已經不太用的手機發個你收不到了也回不了的簡訊。這哀悼的浮雲我無力蹲在路旁,我想起現實是您身上插滿管子躺在加護病房腦死,老師,我想我是絕望了。如同無法寄出般。那電影裡的七封要寄到恆春郡海角七號的信箋,在一個時代轉折中絕望地塵封於記憶中,在此時眼前不遠處的加露林魚木初開或者殘餘之花分不清地被光影照得晃搖生姿又似乎顯得有些生機,說「我會假裝你忘了我,假裝你將你我的過往,像候鳥一般從記憶中遷徙,假裝你已走過寒冬迎接春天,我會假裝,一直到自以為這一切都是真的」,我咀嚼著那第七封信裡無法完成的愛,我想我已經來得太遲的加露林魚木前,風起,花落繽紛如秋之殘酷天問。

-3-

老師,我曾從您的角度揣摩若來看這齣電影最喜歡那些橋段呢?我覺得會是那住在恆春郡海角七號的台灣友子的暮年背影。這也是我最喜歡的橋段。住在那雨的國境之南的偏遠地域,白髮蒼蒼已經胖了老了的青春皺紋滿佈的手遲緩地打開精緻木盒遲緩地拿起裡面的照片和七封信箋。鏡頭緩緩拉遠。淡出。淡入。來到碼頭眾人送行的場景。你提著想要一起走的皮箱。落寞地張望。終於捎來。消散顯像的彩虹。海灘上的嬉戲倩影。無限地平線。你是那六十年後堅持挽著夕陽的人。
這些交雜著日語的敘述,曾遭來台北知識份子的強烈批判,說著些「媚日」「沒有台灣主體」的論點。老師,我對這些言論沉默懷疑很久。直到自己看了作品之後,我才能斷定這一切是無的放矢。使用日語不就是二次大戰結束前出生的台灣人民如同您或我的母親那輩人很自然的生活語言與記憶嗎?即使平常不講,但在面對日本人的音樂公關友子或者久遠記憶的信箋,老師,在那樣時代轉折中的人民要表達屬於他們私人的情感使用日語在電影脈絡中是那樣貼切自然。難道我們要如同1960年代的國民政府壓制台語般,要在電影中不用日語硬以國語或台語來敘述那段櫻花般淒美分離卻在六十年後文字再見的感情嗎?這會是怎樣荒謬的橋段呢?相反地,這荒謬性也表現在對於那對戰敗的日本離開時的碼頭送行一幕的詮釋,說成是台灣人痛恨中國人而懷念日本殖民母國,進一步從「媚日」走到「仇中」,進一步狹隘化我們本來活活潑潑包容全球的視野與無限創造力。我們要問的是:劇情裡有哪一點是這樣告訴我們的呢?還是觀看者因為自己的政治立場自由心證地橫加解釋呢?這荒謬性也發生在硬要在最後的演奏時安排茂伯演奏代表台灣主體的陳達的「思想起」的論述一般,老師,難道是要純粹台灣人演奏演唱台灣人作詞作曲的歌才有所謂台灣主體嗎?我們的山風海雨如此多元廣闊吸納各方力量成就自己的美麗不才是真正的台灣嗎?E世代的年輕人今天以流行的西方搖滾風或者即時以月琴充滿實驗精神地表達混同各種可能的音符唱出自己的心聲不就是台灣主體嗎?「台灣水牛的精神是被剝幾層皮還是屹立不搖」,老師,沉睡中的您記得對我說過這些話吧。那緊抓住土地的堅毅生活,帶著土氣的、語帶髒話的流俗味道中我們卻看出一種可愛,人民在無法自己選擇的統治中混同著各種語言去表達愛恨情愁,這是生活中的真實,無可取代的雨之國境之南的彩虹情事。

-4-

老師,我假裝您是醒著的睡著的人說這些給您聽,我知道您是聽得到我說話的。因為爆紅,這台灣自製的電影《海角七號》引起台北知識份子圈極多的抽象理論討論甚至意識型態論戰,但這一切恐怕把事情弄得太複雜,太沉重了,恐怕正像電影一開頭阿嘉摔爛吉他我操他媽的台北所詛咒的養尊處優的台北城裡的知識份子,只會用抽象的語言複雜的論述掩飾自己的欠缺創造力罷了。老師,我自己就是其中之一,但這次我站在影迷這邊,一起感覺這是一部幽默動人的哀傷淡淡的好看的電影,發生在台北人不怎麼熟悉的雨的國境之南美麗的域土的美麗愛情故事。恆久春天的恆春裡兩條軸線:日治末期的老師與學生間純粹的愛情因為時代轉折而未完成,和今日春天吶喊裡的叛逆返鄉異國遭遇的可能完成的愛情,跨越六十年,懦弱的男人與絕望守活寡的女人,勇敢去愛的男人與獨立自主接受愛的女人,在七封信箋的中介下這樣意識流地超現實現實感人地交織了,而且還是全球在地化地交織。有一種聲音,老師,常在心裡。「這容不下愛情的海岸,總容得下相思吧」,這一切是以能觸及我們靈魂感覺的音樂形式來表達。完美的愛情易遭嫉妒,即使真心相愛,老天也不容,因為這樣的幸福會凸顯世人為維持形式掩飾矛盾的平庸。因此,戰敗的日本使得那恆春女子一身白亭亭玉立於岸邊的張望,與躲在名為某丸輪船上的懦弱的日本男人的書寫,這一令人心碎的離別是容不下愛情的歷史海岸啊。但老師,相思可不可以呢?我在您加護病房病榻旁喃喃自語反覆說著既往的掌故是不是相思呢?如果您象徵的是台灣的一段耐看美麗的歷史,我想就是相思了。六十年後。那春天吶喊裡被擔憂的搖滾樂卻完成了愛情上的,與我們土土的,醜美的,雜種的,混血的土地的相思。

-5-

老師,《海角七號》電影的最後一幕某種程度上完成您的具有高度供給與需求彈性的台灣意識的夢想:曾為台北樂團主唱年輕歌手阿嘉,勤勞不懈的客家人小米酒推銷員馬拉桑,老婆跑了離開霹靂小組返鄉的原住民警察勞馬,閩南人修機車的暗戀老闆娘的水蛙、彈月琴的「國寶」固執可愛的茂伯老阿伯,中日混血的個性小孩大大在台上共同組成了一個屬於台灣恆春在地的搖滾樂團,以現在(會隨歷史變動)居於統治支配地位的外省人在影片中「缺席的主體」的國語歡樂動人地唱出由馬勞口中說出的「我們都是一家人」可以讓老少咸宜不分族群喜歡的音樂,這直接觸動感覺的全球在地化的音樂,就是台灣意識,就是老師您一直告訴我的寬廣無涯無入而不自得的台灣人的精神。
阿嘉把信送到孑然一身年近古稀的台灣友子那裡完成了海角七號詞曲無樂不作以搖滾形式唱出後就安慰了六十年的未完成,阿嘉對著年輕美麗的日本友子接著唱出慢版的情歌「請原諒我的愛,訴說著太緩慢」舞台旁的友子戴上那孔雀之珠虛構的投影與舞台上的真實觀眾所見的疊合就預約了六十年後的跨國之愛雖然我們不知道真正結局為何可能那日本友子還是會離開。而最後的舒伯特世界名曲「野玫瑰」,茂伯在安可聲中固執地拿著台灣月琴彈奏著,然後本來已經退出春吶舞台的恆春人組成的樂團又再次上場了。阿嘉以國語唱著。然後日本流行療傷歌手中孝介受到感染也上台用日語合唱著。阿嘉展現台灣這代年輕人的禮貌優雅想下台讓位卻為中孝介拉住一起歌唱著。台下的聽眾如癡如醉地吶喊跳喊著的台灣人的真精神:土土的善良的包容的創新的浪漫的冒險的優雅的理性的,如老師您,如我們的雨的國境之南的美麗的愛情故事。
那整齣戲裡未曾發聲的恆春友子一身素白優雅佇立引頸找尋碼頭邊的找尋,「老師,我的愛,您在哪裡?」離港的移動腳步無人回應,六十年前的悲劇在六十年後未完成地完成了,現代的友子對日本來的中孝介說:「彩虹的事,謝謝您」,因為無言的天空超現實地終於調動了那些雲彩讓驚人龐大的彩虹從海灘音樂演出的那天早上一直七彩美麗至傍晚。我托腮聆聽,老師您說 「在消散前,你要試著欣賞不完美的美」。

-6-

讓通俗笑聲不斷的只有說台語才能解的幽默與恆春水天相連的壯麗蔚藍地方所發展出來的搖滾戀情起伏與台灣的歷史巧妙結合著,精緻木盒裡的照片與七封信箋從自南徂北航行的夾板上起伏的感情書寫裡旁白適時貫穿全戲,每次當這齣戲快要淪為庸俗笑鬧劇時就被那底層六十年前的未完成的愛救回,如大提琴降八度的低音在電影中淡淡的哀傷低迴著一種悲劇美學高度溢出電影院的四面牆阻隔,「老師,我的愛,您在哪裡?」離港的注目找尋無人回應,這海角七號與其他,公館溫羅汀這帆狀雲聚合急行自北徂南出港離散遠行,翻騰蔚藍轉狂濤的暴雨過馬路的城池深不可測的太平洋海中那背影自言自語:「我要熄滅我自己,以免灼傷你,但啊吾愛,我如何能在黑暗裡尋得出路?」

-7-

老師,然而電影畢竟是基於現實設計出來的超現實嗎?燈一亮,走出戲院後,什麼都沒有了嗎?恆春郡海角七號,是不存在的存在的住址嗎?為亮麗海水沖刷然後漸漸地忘記那一切嗎?所有的歷史的美麗可能只剩下商品拜物的票房得獎追逐與明星崇拜,與熱潮般的知識份子論述也終將退潮化為虛無嗎?我也看了。我終於看了。現實裡我在街頭漫無目的地行走,試著走到台大醫院前理出一個頭緒說給您聽。我先走進一個夢境般美麗的公園,就在您家不遠處的新生南路上的大安森林公園,我在音樂台上席地而坐試圖調動那天邊的雲彩。而在此時公館溫羅汀眼前不遠處的加露林魚木初開或者殘餘之花分不清地被光影照得晃搖生姿又似乎顯得有些生機,說「我會假裝你忘了我,假裝你將你我的過往,像候鳥一般從記憶中遷徙,假裝你已走過寒冬迎接春天,我會假裝,一直到自以為這一切都是真的,然後,祝你一生幸福」,我咀嚼著那第七封信裡無法完成的愛,我想我已經來得太遲的加露林魚木前,風起,花落繽紛如秋之殘酷天問。

【人籟論辨月刊第56期,2009年1月】
----------------------------

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Friday, 05 December 2008

Down With Zugunruhe

Aimless travelling has always been a fixation of mine. At the age of four and from my first toddler steps away from the land where I was born- small town Hualien, home to predominantly aboriginals in the East of Taiwan- I have been moving relentlessly and joyously, further and further away from my natal home. From a blissful childhood in the heart of Namibia, to colourful teenage years in the island countries of Singapore and New Zealand, I grew to be able to effortlessly adapt to diverse cultures and surroundings. My graduation from high school was followed by numerous years in Europe where the meaning of nomadism was taken to a whole new level.
 
Growing up in three different continents I have become incapable of passing more than two years in one place without the slightest hint of restlessness. Many friends I have made along the way have been puzzled by my avian migratory restlessness (or Zugunruhe as behaviourists would call it) and questioned if I lacked a sense of belonging. Years ago, my answer would’ve been a yes. Though faithful as I may be in keeping contact with people I care about, I’ve always found it difficult to leave all behind and start anew, particularly in my younger years, when networks of friends were formed and meant to linger till marriage and decades after.

 

You might also say, constant migration has disrupted my ‘train of life’. With each place I move to I left lifelong friends, but friendships that have endured nonetheless, and strayed further away from my roots. My apparent identity crisis has never occurred to me as problematic, yet it has distressed my parents. Why the sudden need to be subjected to a title of people, race, religion and nation when one was meant to be from all over? I had little memory of Taiwan and even less so of Oklahoma where I entered Kindergarten. With each place I discover, I would take on a befitting identity and consequently turning the previous one obsolete.

 

It leads me to ask: In the earliest days of the Palaeolithic era, hadn’t humans migrated endlessly? Be it voluntary or involuntary migration, anthropologist David Haines has described migration as a ‘vital part of society’, and especially crucial to the economy and the social future of America. I think his hypothesis might very well apply to everywhere else, though it is often an oversimplified challenge.

 

Travelling as recklessly as I have may not have all the positive markings of a swift path to early academic achievement, but it has taught me one of the most valuable lessons I can ever ask for: the inability to see the language and cultural barrier that separates the locals from the foreigners and the children of immigrants. In Southern Africa I sing and dance to the slow-tempo of kwaito beats, speak Afrikaans (albeit broken) and trudge through the lands of stark contrast. In Europe I live and breathe the languages and way of life, finding refuge on the squalid banks of Die Maas. In Northern Africa I let what Arabic dialect words I know roll off my tongue with ardour, and in Taiwan I stress each and every intonation of my newly regained Mandarin, chortling at my own mistakes and revelling in the moment.


Recently I have decided to make a detour of my pilgrimage, and found my feet set on the tar roads of Taipei, which I might add, appear to be constantly under construction. One wonders how long it might last before that irking feeling of Zugunruhe kicks in again.

Friday, 28 November 2008

Computers and I

For more than fifteen years I have been repairing computers. I first started by learning how to take care of hardware. Later on, I turned on studying and fixing software. It is a bit as if I had first studied external medicine, taking care of bones, blood vessels or muscles injuries, before shifting to neurology and psychiatry, trying to understand what is happening in someone’s mind and how to help him or her overcome mental problems.

Indeed, the more I am working with computers, the more they look like humans to me. As humans are prone to develop a variety of illnesses - illnesses that are often interrelated, evolving and recurrent -, computers suffer from affections that you understand more and more and feel increasingly able to cure when you develop a quite of empathy with the body that you are caring for. Or, maybe, should I say that I am sort of a veterinarian? I feel the pulse of the little animal in front of me, I understand that it is not only a bunch of flesh but that it has suffered traumas and former illnesses that affect his overall health, I go from the physical to the mental – and I am working my way towards an acceptable solution, a solution that maybe will not restore the computer to full health but will allow it to continue its services. When giving it back to the owner, I can already guess what will be the next problem, and prepare myself to tackle it….

Actually, I have become so accustomed to computers, I have developed so much empathy towards them that, when I open one of them for looking at what is happening inside, I have the feeling that my brain has actually entered into the computer. This is how I feel able to “see” what the problem is, and to find a way to fix it. Conversely, when I have closed the computer I sense that the brain of the computer has entered my own brain. I was he, and now he is me!

Do take all this with a grain of salt: I am perfectly able to make the difference between a computer and a human… But going from the computer world to the human one actually helps me to better understand the two of them. Using human metaphors for describing computer’s problems helps me to repair computer not by mere logic but through intuition. And describing the ills that human persons and society suffer today by making use of the experience I have accumulated through my long observation of computers’ psyche helps me to understand in my own way what is not working around us and how we might try to fix it.

We used to better understand who we are by comparing ourselves to animals, finding out similarities and differences. This remains true. But, when we take humans, animals and computers as an interrelated whole we become even more able to fully understand what allows humans of being humans, animals of being animals, and computers of being computers – not only by looking at their dissimilarities but also at the qualities, shortcoming and illnesses that they share…. And after all, when we think about it, we have developed such an intimacy with computers that it is no wonder that they are progressively becoming more like us, and us like them!...

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Friday, 28 November 2008

電腦與我

王麗是修理電腦的專家。修理電腦多年之後,她走向社會關懷的道路。她說照顧人體幫助她理解電腦受苦的感覺,修理電腦的經驗教她如何照顧人們心中的傷痛。

撰文 王麗

我修電腦修了十五多年。最初我先學的是如何修理硬體,隨後我轉向研究如何維護軟體。這有點像我先學習研究外科醫學,照料人體的骨骼、血管或是扭傷的肌肉,然後轉到神經病理學或是精神醫學。同時我試著明瞭人們的心理,幫助人們克服他或是她本身的問題。

善意看待體會受苦

事實上,我越接觸電腦,我越覺得電腦像人。人類被感染多種不同的疾病,這些疾病往往會相互傳染,而且病毒會變種、隨時都在。當你對你照顧的人體保持一種善意,你將越來越能了解電腦受苦的感覺,逐漸覺得自己能夠把電腦治癒。或者,其實我比較像獸醫呢?我感覺到在我面前發抖的小動物,它不只是一個肉體,它因創傷而苦,而且從出生以來的疾病影響它今日的全身健康。
我的理解於是從身體過渡到心理,然後我試著找尋可被接受的解決方法;這樣的解決方法雖無法使得電腦全然回復健康,但是仍舊可以繼續運作。當我把電腦回歸給原主時,我幾乎能預測下一個來找我的問題是什麼,我得先準備好迎接挑戰…

雙腦並用修復社會

現在電腦常伴我左右,我對它們存有一股善意。當我打開電腦試圖尋找裡面到底發生什麼事情的時候,我總覺得我的腦子早已進入電腦的腦子裡。這也是為什麼我能夠「看見」問題在哪裡,找出方法解決問題。相反地,當我關閉電腦,我覺得電腦的腦子早已進入我的腦子裡。電腦是我,我是電腦!
當然我對這個想法還是保留幾分,畢竟我還是能分辨電腦與人腦的差異。從電腦的世界聯想人腦的世界幫助我分辨兩者的不同。使用人腦作為隱喻來理解電腦能夠幫助我修理電腦,不僅僅是透過單純的邏輯,而是經由直覺。累積了長期對電腦心理的觀察經驗幫助我描述今日社會與人們的苦痛,幫助我以自己的方式理解我週遭發生的種種問題,同時與他人一起修復它們。

網路時代的整體與個體

大家經常拿動物與人作一比較,從中發現兩者的差異與相似性。這是對的。然而,當我們把人類、動物和電腦視為一個相互關連的整體,我們更能充份理解人類之所以被稱之為人類,動物之所以被稱之為動物,電腦之所以被稱為電腦的原因。我們不僅僅檢視三者的差異,而且我們觀察三者共享的品性、缺點和毛病。當我們和電腦越來越親密的同時,它們漸漸越來越像我們,我們漸漸地越來越像電腦…這當然不足為奇了!

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Wednesday, 26 November 2008

以名之名

Keliw是青苎麻,早年我们抽取这种植物的纤维来制作织物。作为一种重要的植物,Keliw也跟Panay(稻米类)、Rngos(牧草类)一样,成了一个很好的女子名。
  那天晚上的情景就是如此。我和Anaw表哥跟著「大人」去见了这位出身太巴塱,现在在马太鞍的大街上开了一间美容店的青苎麻阿姨。我们称她阿姨,因为Anaw表哥的姑姑跟她是国中同学。
  「Keliw和我最要好了。」在店里坐定之后,名字叫做Rngos的姑姑向我爸爸说明,「她以前离家出走还来投奔我呢!」
  因为是前去请托,表哥和我就站在一边,等待两位「大人」开口。青苎麻阿姨话讲不了几句,抬头看见我们两人在旁罚站,连忙说:「你们怎么站著,拉椅子来坐呀!」
  「没关系没关系…」爸爸很爽快地伸手制止了。「我们谈,他们小孩子站著就好。」
  「是是是,我们站著就好。」我连忙在旁答应,心里想著,「一个是苎麻,一个是牧草,难怪你们两个那么要好吗。」
  我们就这样以「小孩子」的身份站了将近一小时,直到商借祖屋的事情谈妥,才被爸爸叫去在旁边坐下。
  过后我才知道,要是由我爸爸这边论辈分,那么我和Keliw是同辈,同属Kakita’an家族的第六十代。

***
  回家做学习之前,我不只一次向爸爸问起Kakita’an a loma’。「日本时代我们太巴塱有一个大屋子,是总督府指定保存家屋?」
  「有啊。」爸爸回答,「我小时候常在那里玩。那屋子后来被中研院拆走了,一直没有还给我们。」
  「现在他们还是没有把屋子还给我们。」那个炎热的午后,青苎麻的舅舅就在这原样重建的祖屋里向大家说明重建过程的困难。那时Hiroshi伯父和爸爸坐在阿公身边,三人坐在地炉的一侧,青苎麻的舅舅和另一位老人坐在另一侧。我们其他人坐在离火炉有点距离的角落里,拍摄著他们的谈话。
  这是一间架高的大屋子,竹编地板颇有弹性,踩下去会反弹,因此站上之后难免略有摇晃。墙壁也是用细竹密密编织起来,白日里还隐约有阳光从缝隙透进屋中。梁柱都是完整的大木材,火炉上方的梁木显然长年受烟熏烧烤,已经呈现一片深黑。
  「那就是歌里所谓的ma’olaway吧。」我抬头望著熏黑的大梁。我们以「被烟熏成黑色」来形容「古老」,太巴塱就是一个「被烟熏成黑色」的部落。
  「这些建材都是新的。」青苎麻的舅舅继续说,「现在台湾已经不能砍树了,这些大木头都是向印尼买来的,运到打狗港,再运到花莲,再运来太巴塱,我们建起来。」
  这是一个刻意制造的场景,但并不是出于我们的规划。几天前,伯父在电话中跟爸爸坚持,如果要向小辈讲述家族史,就一定得去Kakita’an的祖屋。
  「我们家在太巴塱的历史一定要从那里开始谈。」Hiroshi伯父决不妥协地说。
  那天之前,我和Anaw表哥曾到这屋外窥探过,当时屋子的正、侧两个门都开著,但我们不敢造次,只在门口向内张望。第二次再去的时候,大约是因为先前有台风侵袭,两个门都以厚厚的防台板挡住了。

***
  终于能够进到这听说了不知多少次的祖屋,使我有些神思不属,隐约中听到青苎麻的父亲说,「那个就是Tatakosan no Cidal。」
  我抬起头,看清了他指的是正门右侧的木雕。
  然后老人又指著大门左边的木雕说:「这边的呢,就是Doci和Lalakan。」
  我望著门两侧的大木雕,呆呆地想著,这就是太巴塱之歌里唱的太阳首领和那对姊弟了。因为乱伦的关系,他们生下的第一个孩子是一只奇形怪状的蛇(kangic),是太阳首领倾听了他们的泣诉,请至高之神Malataw给予他们祝福,才终于生下人的孩子,取名为Cihak no Cidal(太阳的吉哈克),此后的孩子也都以太阳命名。
  阿公曾经教导过,如果遇到蛇,「绝不能去杀他,只能把他赶走。」
  会不会是因为蛇也是Doci和Lalakan的后代呢?那奇怪的蛇毕竟是Cihak、Rarikayan、Papahan和Tahtahan的长兄吧。日后若有人要我介绍太巴塱,或许我可以这样回答:「太巴塱人自视为太阳后裔。此外基于血亲,也礼遇无脚的蛇类。」
  我的思绪就这样飘忽不定,回过神来的时候,青苎麻的舅舅已经出屋一趟,又带著写满名字的笔记本回来。
  「这里是历代祖先的名字。」老人说著,翻开以日文假名密密记载的笔记本,认真地念诵起来。
  名字,名字,名字,彷佛永无止尽的名字,一个接著一个流过耳际,单调的语音自成一种奥妙的旋律,彷佛在描摹时光的样貌。每一个名字代表著一个人生,或长或短,有悲有喜,跟我的一样真实的人生。
  「阿公这边是第五十八代,我跟你们是第五十九代,再下去是第六十代。」老人合起笔记本时说,「在这里把你们纳入家谱。」
  爸爸回头对我说,「你听到吗?今天正式把你们纳入Kakita’an家族,你就是第六十代了。」
  「是…」我一直跪坐在地,呆呆地听著,这时不晓得该说什么好,只是以日式规矩向老人俯身行了礼。

***
  我们的纪录片里充满了名字和问号。Anaw表哥的妈妈为何会叫做En,是影片一开始就出现的名字之谜。但直到Hiroshi伯父解开了这个疑问,我都还以为这是个独一无二的名字,想必没有别人叫做En。但砂荖祭典的最后一日,我和大嫂及Anaw表哥坐在一起旁观祭典,等待palimo(给献酒)开始,那时突然听到有人问大嫂最小的女儿:「你不去找En的孩子玩吗?」
  「En的孩子」,这是Anaw表哥自我介绍时的台词,就像我的台词总是「Eki的孩子」一样。但哪里又冒出另一个En的孩子,竟然会跟小侄女差不多年纪,令我大吃一惊。
  「En是谁?怎么会叫做En?」我问大嫂。
  「秀英啊。她的名字第二个字是『英』嘛,所以也叫做En。」
  大嫂回答得如此自然,使我立刻了解到,我们这里现在已经有「英=En」的等式存在,En就是英的阿美语译名。
  En已经变成一个阿美族的名字了,这么说或许也不为过吧。

***
  「我对你们这些有名字的老人所做的祈求是这样…」在Kakita’an祖屋祭拜祖灵时,青苎麻的舅舅这样说。然后他又说了一串话,我当时就听得一头雾水,而在纪录片后制的最后阶段,为了制作中文字幕,还请Hiroshi伯父前来协助,但伯父把那段话又听了一遍,很乾脆地说他也听不懂。
  「我抄一下,去问阿公好了。」伯父说著,把那几句祷文又细细重听了好几次,一字一字地记在小纸片上。
  但最后从阿公那里得到的说明却令人更加迷惑。

  Sakaconihar, sakatangal paykayni kakrakrahan ano honi!
  请让我们如水退去之后的石头那样澄净光明吧!
  Paraden ho kami i cepo’ no ci Toyoan!
  请让我们前往下游,到达Toyo的河口吧!
  Palilocen ho kami i nemnem no ci Tolokan!
  请让我们能够在Tolok的泉水中沐浴净身吧!
  Parakaten kami i fnak no ci Tawrayan!
  请让我们顺利走在Tawray的沙地上吧!

  全部都是没有听说过的地名。那之后有好几天晚上,我总是不由自主地幻想著那些名字背后的故事。
  Toyo的河口到底有什么特别的呢。我想著,想必河道艰险,很不容易到达河口,因此才请祖灵庇佑我们能够一路顺行、平安到达。Tolok的泉水大概特别澄净甘美,说不定还有什么喝了就不会生病的传说。至于Tawray的沙地,或许那是一片人迹罕至、特别细致的海滩,或许不是人人都有机会能够在走那片沙地上,说不定我们也有类似伊帕内玛姑娘的歌谣。
  「啊!苦恼…」一日我抱著头向法国导演Nicolas说,「真想知道那背后的典故。」
  「可怕的不是这些连你伯父都听不懂。」Nicolas回答,「而是不知道像这样的东西还有多少呢。」
  我望著Nicolas——真是一语惊醒梦中人啊。我以为自己已经足够清醒,天知道我其实还是一样懵懂。

***
  这日在Rngos姑姑家晚餐时,Hiroshi伯父仗著自己已经是Mato’asay(老人),给同行拍片的三个女生取了名字,分别叫做Dongi、Sra、Panay。
  「Dongi是我们掌管生育的女神,对女性来说很重要的神。」伯父一手拿著酒杯,一边向同伴们说明。「Sra是大地的意思,是非常好的名字。那,Panay是稻米的总称,也是好名字。」
  三个女生点头表示了解,谢谢还没说完,Hiroshi伯父突然转过头去,笑嘻嘻地叫唤刚被他取名为Kolas的导演Nicolas:「欸!Kolas,请你敬我一杯好吗?」
  「以前台东一个大头目就叫做Kolas,Kolas Mahengheng。」伯父说,「给你叫做Kolas,这是领袖的名字喔!」
  吃了许多鱼,歌也唱了好几支,爸爸突然叫唤我和Anaw表哥。
  「去…提水来。」爸爸指著杯盘狼藉的桌面说。
  走出屋外时我问表哥:「买多少啊?」
  「哎呀,再六瓶台啤就好了,不要给老人喝太多。」
  「Miladom ci Tiamacan, ma’araw ni Kariwasan....」我哼著太巴塱之歌,想著久远以前去提水的Tiamacan,跟著Anaw表哥去了柑仔店,拎著一手台湾啤酒回来。
  从来没有遇过叫做Tiamacan的人。

  一踏进Kakita’an的祖屋,阿公立刻拿拐杖顿在地上,低声叫唤著:
O! Mato’asay....(啊!祖先!)
  听不清阿公到底说了什么,想必是在向祖灵报告我们的到来,请祖灵接纳庇佑。
  阿公就这样每走两步就拿拐杖顿地,一边和祖灵说著话,慢慢横过整个大屋,来到屋子底端摆设供奉物品的桌前。Hiroshi伯父和爸爸一直毕恭毕敬地跟在阿公身后。
  「从来没见过你爸和大舅那么恭敬啊。」Anaw表哥后来这样评论。
  我点头表示同意,然后向同行的其他夥伴解释:「那才是在Kakita’an a loma’的时候最让我们震撼的一幕——阿公一进屋子,立刻就开始呼唤mato’asay。他跟祖先的关系不只是后来献酒祭祷的仪式而已。重点不是那个可见的仪式…。」
  之后是几秒钟的沉默,大家都不说话。导演Nicolas脸上挂著似笑非笑的表情,望著我和Anaw表哥,然后回过头去对其他人说:「我们应该拍他们的谈话。」

***
  既熟悉又模糊的家乡太巴塱,在我眼中慢慢清晰了起来。好像摸索多时终于能够对焦一样,当我听到看到什么的时候,已经不再有初回家时的那种茫然感。
  我已经知道的En有两个。没听说谁叫做Tiamacan。我们家族最早翻山来到太巴塱的祖先叫做Kowal,他的墓就在通往丰滨的公路旁。从Farot展开的家谱现在已经深印脑海,任何时候我都可以毫无困难地画出来,名字之外,还可以标出他们的居住地。
  但我还是不知道那种花纹土狗为何在太巴塱有个特别的名字叫做Pataka’,也不知道为何太巴塱有这么多Pataka’,只两三公里外的马太鞍却很少见,看到的多半是全黑的土狗。
  「黑狗的话,不要给他饭。」某日吃过晚餐后,阿公这样叮咛。「Pataka’来的话,就给Pataka’吃。」
  我探头到门外,看到常来的Pataka’就站在阿公的院子口。
  「Pataka’来晚餐吧!」我把饭菜倒在充当花狗餐盘的畚箕里,向Pataka’招手。
  几年前我写过一则〈想要长根〉的短文。就在望著Pataka’认真吃饭的时候,我突然间有了那种感觉──
  我大概终于长根了吧。●

附加的多媒体:
{rokbox}media/articles/Tafalong_focus_inthename.jpg{/rokbox}

Wednesday, 26 November 2008

以名之名

Keliw是青苧麻,早年我們抽取這種植物的纖維來製作織物。作為一種重要的植物,Keliw也跟Panay(稻米類)、Rngos(牧草類)一樣,成了一個很好的女子名。
  那天晚上的情景就是如此。我和Anaw表哥跟著「大人」去見了這位出身太巴塱,現在在馬太鞍的大街上開了一間美容店的青苧麻阿姨。我們稱她阿姨,因為Anaw表哥的姑姑跟她是國中同學。
  「Keliw和我最要好了。」在店裡坐定之後,名字叫做Rngos的姑姑向我爸爸說明,「她以前離家出走還來投奔我呢!」
  因為是前去請託,表哥和我就站在一邊,等待兩位「大人」開口。青苧麻阿姨話講不了幾句,抬頭看見我們兩人在旁罰站,連忙說:「你們怎麼站著,拉椅子來坐呀!」
  「沒關係沒關係…」爸爸很爽快地伸手制止了。「我們談,他們小孩子站著就好。」
  「是是是,我們站著就好。」我連忙在旁答應,心裡想著,「一個是苧麻,一個是牧草,難怪你們兩個那麼要好嗎。」
  我們就這樣以「小孩子」的身份站了將近一小時,直到商借祖屋的事情談妥,才被爸爸叫去在旁邊坐下。
  過後我才知道,要是由我爸爸這邊論輩分,那麼我和Keliw是同輩,同屬Kakita’an家族的第六十代。

***
  回家做學習之前,我不只一次向爸爸問起Kakita’an a loma’。「日本時代我們太巴塱有一個大屋子,是總督府指定保存家屋?」
  「有啊。」爸爸回答,「我小時候常在那裡玩。那屋子後來被中研院拆走了,一直沒有還給我們。」
  「現在他們還是沒有把屋子還給我們。」那個炎熱的午後,青苧麻的舅舅就在這原樣重建的祖屋裡向大家說明重建過程的困難。那時Hiroshi伯父和爸爸坐在阿公身邊,三人坐在地爐的一側,青苧麻的舅舅和另一位老人坐在另一側。我們其他人坐在離火爐有點距離的角落裡,拍攝著他們的談話。
  這是一間架高的大屋子,竹編地板頗有彈性,踩下去會反彈,因此站上之後難免略有搖晃。牆壁也是用細竹密密編織起來,白日裡還隱約有陽光從縫隙透進屋中。樑柱都是完整的大木材,火爐上方的樑木顯然長年受煙燻燒烤,已經呈現一片深黑。
  「那就是歌裡所謂的ma’olaway吧。」我抬頭望著燻黑的大樑。我們以「被煙燻成黑色」來形容「古老」,太巴塱就是一個「被煙燻成黑色」的部落。
  「這些建材都是新的。」青苧麻的舅舅繼續說,「現在台灣已經不能砍樹了,這些大木頭都是向印尼買來的,運到打狗港,再運到花蓮,再運來太巴塱,我們建起來。」
  這是一個刻意製造的場景,但並不是出於我們的規劃。幾天前,伯父在電話中跟爸爸堅持,如果要向小輩講述家族史,就一定得去Kakita’an的祖屋。
  「我們家在太巴塱的歷史一定要從那裡開始談。」Hiroshi伯父決不妥協地說。
  那天之前,我和Anaw表哥曾到這屋外窺探過,當時屋子的正、側兩個門都開著,但我們不敢造次,只在門口向內張望。第二次再去的時候,大約是因為先前有颱風侵襲,兩個門都以厚厚的防颱板擋住了。

***
  終於能夠進到這聽說了不知多少次的祖屋,使我有些神思不屬,隱約中聽到青苧麻的父親說,「那個就是Tatakosan no Cidal。」
  我抬起頭,看清了他指的是正門右側的木雕。
  然後老人又指著大門左邊的木雕說:「這邊的呢,就是Doci和Lalakan。」
  我望著門兩側的大木雕,呆呆地想著,這就是太巴塱之歌裡唱的太陽首領和那對姊弟了。因為亂倫的關係,他們生下的第一個孩子是一隻奇形怪狀的蛇(kangic),是太陽首領傾聽了他們的泣訴,請至高之神Malataw給予他們祝福,才終於生下人的孩子,取名為Cihak no Cidal(太陽的吉哈克),此後的孩子也都以太陽命名。
  阿公曾經教導過,如果遇到蛇,「絕不能去殺他,只能把他趕走。」
  會不會是因為蛇也是Doci和Lalakan的後代呢?那奇怪的蛇畢竟是Cihak、Rarikayan、Papahan和Tahtahan的長兄吧。日後若有人要我介紹太巴塱,或許我可以這樣回答:「太巴塱人自視為太陽後裔。此外基於血親,也禮遇無腳的蛇類。」
  我的思緒就這樣飄忽不定,回過神來的時候,青苧麻的舅舅已經出屋一趟,又帶著寫滿名字的筆記本回來。
  「這裡是歷代祖先的名字。」老人說著,翻開以日文假名密密記載的筆記本,認真地唸誦起來。
  名字,名字,名字,彷彿永無止盡的名字,一個接著一個流過耳際,單調的語音自成一種奧妙的旋律,彷彿在描摹時光的樣貌。每一個名字代表著一個人生,或長或短,有悲有喜,跟我的一樣真實的人生。
  「阿公這邊是第五十八代,我跟你們是第五十九代,再下去是第六十代。」老人合起筆記本時說,「在這裡把你們納入家譜。」
  爸爸回頭對我說,「你聽到嗎?今天正式把你們納入Kakita’an家族,你就是第六十代了。」
  「是…」我一直跪坐在地,呆呆地聽著,這時不曉得該說什麼好,只是以日式規矩向老人俯身行了禮。

***
  我們的紀錄片裡充滿了名字和問號。Anaw表哥的媽媽為何會叫做En,是影片一開始就出現的名字之謎。但直到Hiroshi伯父解開了這個疑問,我都還以為這是個獨一無二的名字,想必沒有別人叫做En。但砂荖祭典的最後一日,我和大嫂及Anaw表哥坐在一起旁觀祭典,等待palimo(給獻酒)開始,那時突然聽到有人問大嫂最小的女兒:「你不去找En的孩子玩嗎?」
  「En的孩子」,這是Anaw表哥自我介紹時的台詞,就像我的台詞總是「Eki的孩子」一樣。但哪裡又冒出另一個En的孩子,竟然會跟小姪女差不多年紀,令我大吃一驚。
  「En是誰?怎麼會叫做En?」我問大嫂。
  「秀英啊。她的名字第二個字是『英』嘛,所以也叫做En。」
  大嫂回答得如此自然,使我立刻了解到,我們這裡現在已經有「英=En」的等式存在,En就是英的阿美語譯名。
  En已經變成一個阿美族的名字了,這麼說或許也不為過吧。

***
  「我對你們這些有名字的老人所做的祈求是這樣…」在Kakita’an祖屋祭拜祖靈時,青苧麻的舅舅這樣說。然後他又說了一串話,我當時就聽得一頭霧水,而在紀錄片後製的最後階段,為了製作中文字幕,還請Hiroshi伯父前來協助,但伯父把那段話又聽了一遍,很乾脆地說他也聽不懂。
  「我抄一下,去問阿公好了。」伯父說著,把那幾句禱文又細細重聽了好幾次,一字一字地記在小紙片上。
  但最後從阿公那裡得到的說明卻令人更加迷惑。

  Sakaconihar, sakatangal paykayni kakrakrahan ano honi!
  請讓我們如水退去之後的石頭那樣澄淨光明吧!
  Paraden ho kami i cepo’ no ci Toyoan!
  請讓我們前往下游,到達Toyo的河口吧!
  Palilocen ho kami i nemnem no ci Tolokan!
  請讓我們能夠在Tolok的泉水中沐浴淨身吧!
  Parakaten kami i fnak no ci Tawrayan!
  請讓我們順利走在Tawray的沙地上吧!

  全部都是沒有聽說過的地名。那之後有好幾天晚上,我總是不由自主地幻想著那些名字背後的故事。
  Toyo的河口到底有什麼特別的呢。我想著,想必河道艱險,很不容易到達河口,因此才請祖靈庇佑我們能夠一路順行、平安到達。Tolok的泉水大概特別澄淨甘美,說不定還有什麼喝了就不會生病的傳說。至於Tawray的沙地,或許那是一片人跡罕至、特別細緻的海灘,或許不是人人都有機會能夠在走那片沙地上,說不定我們也有類似伊帕內瑪姑娘的歌謠。
  「啊!苦惱…」一日我抱著頭向法國導演Nicolas說,「真想知道那背後的典故。」
  「可怕的不是這些連你伯父都聽不懂。」Nicolas回答,「而是不知道像這樣的東西還有多少呢。」
  我望著Nicolas——真是一語驚醒夢中人啊。我以為自己已經足夠清醒,天知道我其實還是一樣懵懂。

***
  這日在Rngos姑姑家晚餐時,Hiroshi伯父仗著自己已經是Mato’asay(老人),給同行拍片的三個女生取了名字,分別叫做Dongi、Sra、Panay。
  「Dongi是我們掌管生育的女神,對女性來說很重要的神。」伯父一手拿著酒杯,一邊向同伴們說明。「Sra是大地的意思,是非常好的名字。那,Panay是稻米的總稱,也是好名字。」
  三個女生點頭表示了解,謝謝還沒說完,Hiroshi伯父突然轉過頭去,笑嘻嘻地叫喚剛被他取名為Kolas的導演Nicolas:「欸!Kolas,請你敬我一杯好嗎?」
  「以前台東一個大頭目就叫做Kolas,Kolas Mahengheng。」伯父說,「給你叫做Kolas,這是領袖的名字喔!」
  吃了許多魚,歌也唱了好幾支,爸爸突然叫喚我和Anaw表哥。
  「去…提水來。」爸爸指著杯盤狼藉的桌面說。
  走出屋外時我問表哥:「買多少啊?」
  「哎呀,再六瓶台啤就好了,不要給老人喝太多。」
  「Miladom ci Tiamacan, ma’araw ni Kariwasan....」我哼著太巴塱之歌,想著久遠以前去提水的Tiamacan,跟著Anaw表哥去了柑仔店,拎著一手台灣啤酒回來。
  從來沒有遇過叫做Tiamacan的人。

  一踏進Kakita’an的祖屋,阿公立刻拿拐杖頓在地上,低聲叫喚著:
O! Mato’asay....(啊!祖先!)
  聽不清阿公到底說了什麼,想必是在向祖靈報告我們的到來,請祖靈接納庇佑。
  阿公就這樣每走兩步就拿拐杖頓地,一邊和祖靈說著話,慢慢橫過整個大屋,來到屋子底端擺設供奉物品的桌前。Hiroshi伯父和爸爸一直畢恭畢敬地跟在阿公身後。
  「從來沒見過你爸和大舅那麼恭敬啊。」Anaw表哥後來這樣評論。
  我點頭表示同意,然後向同行的其他夥伴解釋:「那才是在Kakita’an a loma’的時候最讓我們震撼的一幕——阿公一進屋子,立刻就開始呼喚mato’asay。他跟祖先的關係不只是後來獻酒祭禱的儀式而已。重點不是那個可見的儀式…。」
  之後是幾秒鐘的沉默,大家都不說話。導演Nicolas臉上掛著似笑非笑的表情,望著我和Anaw表哥,然後回過頭去對其他人說:「我們應該拍他們的談話。」

***
  既熟悉又模糊的家鄉太巴塱,在我眼中慢慢清晰了起來。好像摸索多時終於能夠對焦一樣,當我聽到看到什麼的時候,已經不再有初回家時的那種茫然感。
  我已經知道的En有兩個。沒聽說誰叫做Tiamacan。我們家族最早翻山來到太巴塱的祖先叫做Kowal,他的墓就在通往豐濱的公路旁。從Farot展開的家譜現在已經深印腦海,任何時候我都可以毫無困難地畫出來,名字之外,還可以標出他們的居住地。
  但我還是不知道那種花紋土狗為何在太巴塱有個特別的名字叫做Pataka’,也不知道為何太巴塱有這麼多Pataka’,只兩三公里外的馬太鞍卻很少見,看到的多半是全黑的土狗。
  「黑狗的話,不要給他飯。」某日吃過晚餐後,阿公這樣叮嚀。「Pataka’來的話,就給Pataka’吃。」
  我探頭到門外,看到常來的Pataka’就站在阿公的院子口。
  「Pataka’來晚餐吧!」我把飯菜倒在充當花狗餐盤的畚箕裡,向Pataka’招手。
  幾年前我寫過一則〈想要長根〉的短文。就在望著Pataka’認真吃飯的時候,我突然間有了那種感覺──
  我大概終於長根了吧。●

附加的多媒體:
{rokbox}media/articles/Tafalong_focus_inthename.jpg{/rokbox}

Monday, 17 November 2008

The Little Shapeless Cloud

One morning, a small cloud woke up in the sky – and, for him, this particular morning was the first morning of the world. It was a day oscillating between the blue and the grey. Shapes and colors were indistinct and ever changing. The little cloud gave his vaporous flesh a pinch, trying to figure out what he was doing there and where the vague, light mass that, as he understood it, delineated his share of existence was starting and ending. His quest did not teach him anything specific. He was at pain to assert his own outlines, to separate his body from the great Whole that had given birth to the ephemeral particles gathered within him. Nor was he able to clearly distinguish his thoughts, to isolate a flux of consciousness that could truly be called his own and legitimately separated from the universal strain of feelings, energy and motions.

- Ah!” thought the little cloud (and this was the first spark of self-awareness that came to him in the morning of his world appearance), who is this ‘I’ that is awakening within me, supposing the confused, primitive question that this shapeless being is presently formulating does refer to an ‘I’, to ‘myself’ - I, this barely existing creature that the surrounding sentient and non-sentient bodies now identify as a little shapeless cloud? When I look at these majestic formations of clouds that navigate high on the sky, much higher than I will ever rise – and I do not even dare to glance at the celestial bodies -, I do sense within them the certainty of existence, and their assertiveness is shaping the way I am seeing them: I cannot doubt that they are ‘for real’ and, as such, have been shaped for an all-encompassing purpose, that their course is not purely accidental but concurs to the accomplishment of the overall order of things, an order that they might not fully comprehend but of which they are decidedly a most meaningful part. Whereas I am not even distinguishable from the heavens that surround me, I (I?) who have no precise beginning nor end, whose only sparks of thought and consciousness are only directed towards questioning the reality of my own being, and who will very soon not even be around anymore for worrying about the fact that I, most probably, am just a hiccup in the unfolding of cosmic events. ”

It will not escape the attention of the alert reader that, for a being that was questioning the reality of his own existence, our little shapeless cloud was showing a remarkable capacity of reasoning, and this at the earliest stage of his ephemeral life. But so engrossed was he in the formulation of his existential doubts that it did not occur to him that these very doubts might constitute a solid proof not only of his existence but of a definite meaning attached to his appearance in this world, whatever the life span that was allotted to him. His train of thought might actually have led him in this direction if his destiny had not decided otherwise. Towards the evening, the weather became greyer and more uncertain. Soon, the cloud felt that he was starting to disintegrate: drops of rain were leaving his shapeless body and slowly falling towards the earth. There was a public park lying under the cloud – a park where, in the morning, the author of this story had been pensively contemplating the little cloud -, and the rain was gently touching the grass and the leaves on the bank of the pond sleeping in a remote corner of the park. Some of the majestic cumuli that our new-born philosopher had so much admired during the day were releasing large, quiet drops into the pond, creating gentle ripples and music. This is at the time he felt himself falling into final oblivion that the little shapeless cloud experienced his awakening.

- Ah!” said he again (for he had already proven to be a philosopher prone to adopt the exclamatory and sometimes even grandiose mode), now that I am losing the shade of existence that has been mine I do not doubt anymore its reality. I am, I am the rain which is falling from my shapeless body, and these droplets that were tending towards their final annihilation were at the same time my very being and its negation. No wonder I spent my short life wondering about the ‘I’ that was or was not living it! I am now feeling the joy and certainty of my purposeful existence in the moment of its disappearance. May the water that is now reaching the earth and will return towards the sky so as to shape my countless descendants forever continue the majestic course that her continuous self-negation allows her to beget and nurture! ”

And the little shapeless cloud happily closed the eyes that he had opened in such anguish a few hours before.

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Friday, 31 October 2008

探訪聖徒節與謀殺案

請與我們到另一個福爾摩沙,踏上科西嘉推理的旅程。

這一期讀未來中,人籟為您呈上小說。

小說的情節發生在一個小島上:科西嘉島。更新奇的是,內容是推理小說。為什麼我們選擇推理小說與您相見呢?除了因為這本小說的文學品質高,書中的敘述同樣打動在島上生活的我們:故事聚焦在科西嘉島上的一個小村落,這個小村子延續傳統,祕密深藏,但同樣面臨全球化衝擊、年輕人口外流以及風俗的異動…

像台灣一樣,科西嘉是座海島,大部份由山脈構成,居民大部份居住在沿海面。像台灣一樣,不同族群在科西嘉島上遇合,科西嘉人遭逢認同問題,傳統文化不斷與外界結合,不斷變遷中…因此,書中描述小村落中兩方家族勢力近乎族群對立般對戰,又在團結中相互猜忌,村人與外地人的初遇與誤解,財產與土地過繼的糾結,洗錢疑雲重重,但同時傳達幸福與愛的本質…這一切都將給予讀者無比的聯想與回憶!他人之鏡映照出更真實的自我。

作者杜睿(Jean-Louis Tourné)遙想他母親老家的小村落,並透過藝術手法為您報導。透過書中的攝影作品,您將觀覽科西嘉風光與小村面貌。科西嘉在歐洲被喻為「美麗之島」。敬請與我們一起到另一個福爾摩沙旅行吧!

**
【關於作者】
杜睿的父親來自法國西南部,母親是科西嘉人。科西嘉是他眷戀的故鄉。杜睿在國際金融界工作,另一個身份是作家。繼新加坡與巴林之後,他被外派到台灣,居住過幾年時間。現在他的工作基地在希臘。

附加的多媒體:
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