Wellcome!
The Dharma Bums/达摩流浪者
在迟缓而留恋地看完了中译本后,又将要迟疑地读完原版.懒懒地留在剩余的20几页中,不肯轻松自在地继续下去.如果对一本书可以如此留恋,那就说明,我有多欣赏他---Jack Kerouac.
第一次遇见他是<在路上>,不记得是炎夏还是寒冬,只记得这是第一本可以让我在假期熬夜阅读的书.不知累.将厚厚一本读完,而其中的感触,体验却留了下来,或者,更明确地说,他让我清晰地看见自己最终所期望的状态.
而后,上学时读了他的话剧<跨掉的一代>,不得不说,完全没有读懂.但那鲜活明亮的绿色封面足以激发我的全部热情(我喜欢绿色啦~),还有那些许悲伤但断然没有绝望的名字.
再后来,就是这本<达摩流浪者>了.
大概很多人都会对他的作品嗤之以鼻吧,大概会有更多人会对这种生活方式不屑一顾吧.记得在一篇评论中所说,其实他在写<在路上>时,是没有任何标点符号的,所以,任何一种对它的解读都是一种误读.是的,我也在进行一种我对他的"误读".但我想,任何人在对他或对他的作品进行某种误读时都不妨想一下你终其一生真正想要什么,是的,就是这样一个问题,如果你清醒明了地有个答案,那进行怎样的"误读"也都无所谓了.
Think of the millions of guys all over the world with rucksacks on their backs tramping around the back country and hitchhiking and bringing the word down to everybody.
如果你读完这句话依然有兴趣地话,那不妨继续将这篇日志读下去,如果没有,那就关了吧.
我只是希望能把我喜欢的,分享给更多人.
All of them imprisoned in a system of work, produce, consume, work, produce, consume.
I see a vision of a great rucksack revolution thousands or even millions of young Americans wandering around with rucksacks, going up to mountains to pray, making children laugh and old men glad, making young girls happy and old girls happier, all of'em Zen Lunatics who go about writing poems that happen to appear in their heads of no reason and also by being kind and also by strange unexpected acts keep giving visions of eternal freedom to everybody and to all living creatures.
Who played this cruel joke, on bloke after bloke, paking like a rat, across the desert flat? Was it God got mad, like the Indian cad, who was only a griver, crooked like the river? Gave you a garden, let it harden, then comes the flood, and the loss of your blood? Pray tell us, good buddy, and don't make it muddy, who played this trick, on Harry and Dick, and who is so mean, this Eternal Scence, just what's the point, of this whole joint?
As you'll see if you take a walk some night on a suburban street and pass house after house on both sides of the street each with the lamplight of the living room, shining golden, and inside the little blue square of the television, each living family riveting its attention on probably one show; nobody talking; silence in the yards; dogs barking at you because you pass on human feet inside of on wheels...Only one thing I'll say for the people watching televison, the millions and millions of the One Eye: they're not hurting anyone while they're sitting in front of that Eye.
---------Jack Kerouac
第一次遇见他是<在路上>,不记得是炎夏还是寒冬,只记得这是第一本可以让我在假期熬夜阅读的书.不知累.将厚厚一本读完,而其中的感触,体验却留了下来,或者,更明确地说,他让我清晰地看见自己最终所期望的状态.
而后,上学时读了他的话剧<跨掉的一代>,不得不说,完全没有读懂.但那鲜活明亮的绿色封面足以激发我的全部热情(我喜欢绿色啦~),还有那些许悲伤但断然没有绝望的名字.
再后来,就是这本<达摩流浪者>了.
大概很多人都会对他的作品嗤之以鼻吧,大概会有更多人会对这种生活方式不屑一顾吧.记得在一篇评论中所说,其实他在写<在路上>时,是没有任何标点符号的,所以,任何一种对它的解读都是一种误读.是的,我也在进行一种我对他的"误读".但我想,任何人在对他或对他的作品进行某种误读时都不妨想一下你终其一生真正想要什么,是的,就是这样一个问题,如果你清醒明了地有个答案,那进行怎样的"误读"也都无所谓了.
Think of the millions of guys all over the world with rucksacks on their backs tramping around the back country and hitchhiking and bringing the word down to everybody.
如果你读完这句话依然有兴趣地话,那不妨继续将这篇日志读下去,如果没有,那就关了吧.
我只是希望能把我喜欢的,分享给更多人.
All of them imprisoned in a system of work, produce, consume, work, produce, consume.
I see a vision of a great rucksack revolution thousands or even millions of young Americans wandering around with rucksacks, going up to mountains to pray, making children laugh and old men glad, making young girls happy and old girls happier, all of'em Zen Lunatics who go about writing poems that happen to appear in their heads of no reason and also by being kind and also by strange unexpected acts keep giving visions of eternal freedom to everybody and to all living creatures.
Who played this cruel joke, on bloke after bloke, paking like a rat, across the desert flat? Was it God got mad, like the Indian cad, who was only a griver, crooked like the river? Gave you a garden, let it harden, then comes the flood, and the loss of your blood? Pray tell us, good buddy, and don't make it muddy, who played this trick, on Harry and Dick, and who is so mean, this Eternal Scence, just what's the point, of this whole joint?
As you'll see if you take a walk some night on a suburban street and pass house after house on both sides of the street each with the lamplight of the living room, shining golden, and inside the little blue square of the television, each living family riveting its attention on probably one show; nobody talking; silence in the yards; dogs barking at you because you pass on human feet inside of on wheels...Only one thing I'll say for the people watching televison, the millions and millions of the One Eye: they're not hurting anyone while they're sitting in front of that Eye.
---------Jack Kerouac
