章节名:all
页码:第999页
2016-02-01 00:58:01
The solitude of his father is the solitude of all the modern lifes. We keep ourselves hiding among the crowd of nobody. In reture, we become the others' nobody.
Solitary. But not in the sense of being alone. Not solitary in the way Thoreau was, for example, exiling himself in order to find out where he was; not solitary in the way Jonah was, praying for deliverance in the belly of the whale. Solitary in the sense of retreat. In the sense of not having to see himself, of not having to see himself being seen by anyone else.引自 all
His father's attitude to work and money-
He worked hard because he want to earn as much money as possible. Work was a means to an end - a means to money. But the end was not something that could bring him pleasure either...Having money means more than being able to buy things: it means that the world need never affect you. Money in the sense of protection, then, not pleasure. Having been without money as a child, and therefore vulnerable to the whims of the world, the idea of wealth became synonymous for him with the idea of escape: from harm, from suffering, from being a victim. He was not tring to buy happiness, but simply an absence of unhappiness.引自 all
How he wrote his father -
The rampant, totally mystifying force of contradiction. I understand now that each fact is nullified by the next fact, that each thought engenders an equal and opposite thought. Impossible to say anything without reservation: he was good, or he was bad; he was this, or he was that. All of them are true. At times I have the feeling that I am writing about three or four different men, each one distince, each one a contradiction of all the others. Fragments. Or the anecdote as a form of knowledge.引自 all
In the end of his memory and writing about his father, it's always a difficulty to a closure after a long journey. I was touched by his words, though he behaved it was not a big deal. -
In spite of the excuses I have made for myslef, I understand what is happening. This closer I come to the end of what I am able to say, the more reluctant I am to say anything. I want to postpone the moment of ending, and in this way delude myself into thinking that I have only just begun, that the better part of my story still lies ahead. No matter how useless these words might seem to be, they have nevertheless stood between me and a silence that continues to terrify me. When I step into this silence, it will mean that my father has vanished forever.引自 all
He didn't get a chance to see his father after he died.
These words really wept me. Maybe I should have a reconciliation with my father before everything goes too late. -
Never to have seen him dead deprives me of an anguish I would have welcomed. It is not that his death has been made any less real, but now, each time I want to see it, each time I want to touch its reality, I must engaged in an act of imagination. There is nothing to remember. Nothing but a kind of emptiness.引自 all
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