書抄 #15

Toward evening I decided to write to Bouxx. This temptation to write was dangerous, and no one knew that better than me. But the hours were so long, so dead, that I couldn’t be satisfied just jotting an account: that could all be summed up in a single sentence, which was always the same and never sufficed.

“I know that you’re very busy. Nevertheless, please read these lines. I’ve led a calm and regular life in the service of the State, troubled occasionally by my poor health. Now, I witness with horror your efforts to change the course of events. It’s not that I blame you; I feel sympathy for you, and your madness soothes me. Alas, it puts you to work for everything you condemn.

“I’d like to be useful to you and demonstrate the very greatest loyalty. But you’re blind, you’re fighting into the abyss. How can I open your eyes? You’re fighting in the ranks of your enemies and I myself deceive you when I persuade you of my candor. If I tell you the truth, you will give up the struggle. If I allow you to be hopeful, you will be wrong about the struggle. Please understand: everything that you get from me is, for you, only a lie – because I’m the truth.

“I’d like to convince you of this: you’re on the wrong track when you attack the offices, the administration, all the visible apparatus of the State. They don’t count. If you do away with them, you do away with nothing. If you replace them with others, you replace them with the same. And, beyond that, their only goal is the public good: in order to act well they’ll always be in agreement with you. I assure you: there’s nothing mysterious in the offices; there are none of those little secrets that were the petty privilege of the old administrations which trouble the supplicant and make him think that behind the façade there’s something essential going on to which he’ll never have access. Anyone can always take everything into account. Administration, classification, decision making, all goes on in broad daylight, and perfect equality means that at every moment the whole State inhabits the bodies and minds of those who turn to it. The State is everywhere. Everyone feels it, sees it, everyone feels it live through him. In the offices it’s represented rather than present. It’s found there with its official features, and appearances are certainly not in short supply: historical buildings, institutions, civil servants, tables, filing cabinets, the smallest things takes on a particular dignity. Indeed it’s there that those looking for the center can flatter themselves upon having found it. But that is only the center. Having reached it, it’s grasped in no more than an indirect way, through unimportant markers like mottoes above doors, the uniform of the ushers, etc.; it evaporates for whoever’s not outside it. For those at home there, the offices vanish; they really exist only in the eyes of those attackers. Thus the empty feeling one gets there, which is not due exclusively to the somewhat sad and solemn appearance of the rooms, over which glides the hesitant gleam of the past. In every rooms, there’s a constant coming and going of the most serious working people, an extraordinary buzzing of activity, everyone’s busy, and yet the visitor is struck by something sad and useless, as if everyone were yawning in idleness and boredom.

“I’d like you to reflect on these false appearances. Everything the administration does to give the laws a tangible reality – decrees, rules, measures of all kinds – sometimes seems to be misleading manifestations of the power in which everyone participates. It’s as if thinking unjustifiably deforms spontaneous feelings. It’s well known that the law acquire their true value in this way; they are laws only thanks to this. But a disagreeable feelings of hidden activity, of intervention after the fact, remains. When the government , in order to give official approval to the definitive right, recognized by everyone, to know everything, delegates agents who keep individuals informed, or when it puts posters on walls and prints its principle decisions in newspapers, then, in the eyes of every citizen possessing tacit knowledge, fairly petty revelations – on the scale of the means available – seem rather to conceal measures of intimidation. And the law, far from being the meeting place where everyone feels called to the common spirit, is no more than the personal and foreign warning addressed to us by a civil servant who has resolved for some reason to treat us as enemies.

“This apparent deviation cannot be taken seriously. The prestige of the State, the love we have for it and above all our absolute adherence to it, maintained through reservations and rebellions, links every mind and doesn’t allow the mind to see the tiniest crack in the immense edifice from which it is inseparable. No one can distinguish the regime from its manifestations, for the law is not haphazardly revealed, and its truth lies only in the collective movement which has inscribed it deep within our souls, and which causes it to emerge in the sovereign system that represents it. In practice one can always criticize, and this often happens. Civil servants are people just like anyone else; they’re not at all superior to those they administer. If they were to claim special rights for themselves then we would no longer be in our native land, and we would have to keep struggling, as it was necessary to do for centuries, against a distant and dominating power. And it isn’t like men who are richer in humanity than the common run of mortals to carry out duties from which they derive no advantage. They are supposed to have a more active awareness of what they are; they live less and reflect more. I know very well that that’s what indicates our administrative deformation; our most inward thoughts have something about them that’s ordered, objective, as if they always had to be the subject of a report or pass unrevised into an account. Hence, no doubt, this meditative and cunning appearance which distinguishes certain important men in public and also the brutal and base manners often affected by agents of enforcement as if, among the latter, reflection, instead of manifesting itself through waiting, equivocation, and delays, demanded the haste and blind rigidity of authority. The law is sly; that is the impression it gives. It circumvents, even when it strikes. It interferes everywhere, under the pretext of never withholding itself. Never able to condemn anyone, it always seems to be concealing something under the benevolence and deceit of its plans. It is clarity itself, and it is impenetrable. It is absolute truth which expresses itself straightforwardly, and it invokes the most perfidious falsehood, one which leaves no traces, outside of , and within, our hearts. But don’t believe that it is always hatching plots. With all my strength I want to warn you against such an idea, one as naïve as it is depraved. We are the ones who sometimes feign to believe the law capable of dark plotting, in order to alleviate the feeling of vigilance with which its loyalty encircles us. We would like to free ourselves from this feeling and be able to rest. We imagine that there is a plot, because we cannot tolerate the idea of infinitely more complex relations, founded on good faith and clarity, relations which, far from being foreign to us, express that which is closest to us and most inward.

“Now, please listen. What I am going to tell you is serious. It is not only that I’m a danger to you through my mode of being, my turn of mind, and my habits. I also have to work: I play a role, I receive orders, I carry them out. How? I can’t say, because finally that isn’t true. They’re ideas that take hold of me, then leave me, restful phrases meant to keep me at a good distance from a situation at which I lack the courage to gaze straight on, a situation I lack the strength to undergo indefinitely. Still, they’re not fables – far from it. In the times that preceded our own, such a view of things would have been the truth itself; today, it still has all the precision of a metaphor. Civil servants, to the extent that they live in offices, sign decrees, work for the maintenance of the State, make decisions that seem to us brutal or unjust – are they themselves anything more than images that no one accepts as such, but which, as long bypassed relics, nevertheless give us an idea of the mores, the political fate, and the life of the world in general?

“Think about what’s so terrible. It’s that I myself, in a number of ways, am only a face. A face? Can you fathom what a dangerous , perfidious, hopeless, ways of life such a word implies? I am a mask. I act like a mask and as such I play a dishonest role in this universal fabrication which spreads, over a humanity too full of the law – like a light varnish, in order to soften the glare – a more crude and naïve humanity, one that recalls the earlier stages in an evolution which, once it has arrived its end, tries in vain to go back.”

Maurice Blanchot. The Most High. Trans. Allan Stoekl. Lincoln & London: University of Nebraska Press, 1996. p. 175-179.


留言 11 Jul, 14



車門打開車門關上。突然給擠到面前的那人放下大包小包散貨,嘴巴開開合合,對著電話機的收音孔忙說著沒人想聽的話,話沒說完電話卻掛斷了,連忙再打過去,卻一直沒信號打不通,一下,他幾乎看到,對長久奔波勞累生活瑣碎如斯的嘆息,直從那人的喉結下面跑出來與車廂裡的冷空氣遭遇,而且就只他看到‧‧‧‧‧‧自然,樂聲播放的時候他還是會聽見沿用多年的廣播,中間插進另一把女聲,以正式的辭令重覆各種叮嚀。整天覺著口渴疲倦,卻發現自己默唸著廣告屏下面的字幕,「深水埗有金屬支架由高處墮下,擊傷一名女子‧‧‧‧‧‧荷甲燕豪芬主場2比1勝荷華高斯‧‧‧‧‧‧烏克蘭示威者包圍檢察總署,抗議當局雖然釋放被捕的全部234 名示威者,但仍未撤銷針對他們的刑事控罪‧‧‧‧‧‧」有關世界各地的生硬句子點綴畫面中央的娛樂消息,那廣告屏早就被更小巧的手提裝置取代,沒人在看;請小心,請勿,列車即將,請留意,乘客,車廂中間,請不要,為確保,之間的高低‧‧‧‧‧‧

就在將臨的一日,這脆弱的和平將突然變成互想踐踏、變成廝殺,「to kill so they may live…」他想擋開這突然襲來的預感似地,別過臉不讓人看見,景物一處消失一處暴露轟立,樓頂的逆光從起伏的天際線上直打進他眼底裡去,那座所有人無法擺脫的城市和怪物建築在一雙黑棕的瞳仁裡倒吊,他用力閉上眼簾,意識的底層模糊念及夜晚‧‧‧‧‧‧瞧見的當兒就會立刻消失。每一站如是。



留言 23 Feb, 14




有人口口聲聲要離家出走,心裡卻盤算著兩個月、三兩年後回來繼續上班上課,與所有人事的關係都原封不動,像爛電影裡的負心情郎般幾乎沒說出口,「你最好幫我停薪留職,房子看著,感情保鮮,等我回來」,每天還要Facebook 或 Line 與人連絡,抱怨水土食物交通以至電視節目的無聊程度大不如前,手持股票債券還得睇實個市,同時念念不忘「本土認同」,總是以己度人,你看你看,人家這樣倒垃圾這樣上廁所──比起我們──多好多不好。這不是笑話嗎?的確,世上實在沒一個地方像香港一樣,可以讓香港人像香港人那麼刻薄討厭而不被討厭,可以讓人像香港人那樣自甘平凡與惡俗,為種種功利與缺德行為辯護說辭,毫不臉紅還振振有辭,忽然自詡經濟動物,又忽然像個長久被管束的模範學生自詡良好市民,為當權者糾察。


開口閉口要離開香港,卻又認同此處作「我城」,又一天到晚說「香港淪陷」的人們,到底活在哪個海拔高度,可以命定此處生活的普羅民眾,罪該與他們的香港傳奇陪葬!?無數人在八十年代「經濟起飛」奠定的叢林法則下,天天胼手胝足地吃力討生活,為甚麼有些人踩著別人跑前幾步就可以說「熟悉的那個香港消失了」,好像那個「香港」真是所有人的香港,而這個城市該有甚麼自我想像、要不要棄城,就真由他們說了算?他們憑甚麼可以脅迫那些在社會上無法言語的人們,做將臨一場政治代理權Show Hand 賭局的籌碼?


受不了香港的N 個理由,原來都不是理由,他們愛的是恨,無一足以讓香港人甘願放棄,生活於此處營建的一切,哪怕它不過是一座舒適的監獄。



2 則留言 10 Jan, 14




這種如像Lucid Dream 的經驗,一次又一次的以反面的形式出現。有時站在馬路旁等著交通燈轉燈,一下出神,就突然覺著眼前這城市一角,喧鬧和平,不知是基於怎樣得來的秩序,竟然人人恪守。身上各種穿戴的男女老幼,好像都依著不可改變的計劃,必須以全部生命完成,行色匆匆,卻身不由己停步在一片水泥地上,意識與無意識之間,不知道過往不知道一切未來,汽車電騎就在在一條劃定的路線上飛馳,上下行一邊前往一邊返回,永遠不得止息的車流,一下卻又停在一條不知道由誰劃定的線上,行人馬上如渡海般急趕往對岸,又消失於街上。



留言 10 Jan, 14

lonely soul



留言 26 Jul, 13


哲學家德勒玆在一次電視訪談中說過,「狗吠是動物之中最愚蠢的叫聲,是動物世界之恥」(L’Abécédaire de Gilles Deleuze, Boutang, 1988-1989),但這不是因為他是個貓奴或喜歡別的寵物──實情是他討厭任何會靠著人廝磨的動物。對德勒玆而言,被馴養的家畜,是主子的財產,也是「家庭」成員,而人與家畜、寵物的關係每每是人性化、幼兒化的(看看那些抱著愛犬叫牠們做BB講弱智話的人就知道),因而在此種關係裡,不單家畜、寵物失去了自己的世界,人亦失去了自己的動物性。德勒玆對狗吠的厭煩,也源於他對別的動物的觀察,同是為了宣示領土權,雀鳥用的是歌唱旋律,狒狒用的是屁股的顏色,蜘蛛幾何編網,狗吠可是那麼 Artless!





留言 25 Jul, 13



我一再想起1991 年上映的電影《明日世界終結時》(Wim Wenders 導),化名Trevor 的男主角被中情局緝捕,穿梭多國潛逃,原本用來拍攝各處遊歷,讓盲人母親能夠「看見」影像的Brain–Computer Interface (BCI) ,後來被改裝成一部可以攝錄夢境的播放機。因交通擠塞等得不耐煩而離開了導航系統,後來遇上Trevor 的女主角Claire,成為了這部「夢機器」的實驗對象,不覺沉迷貪看自己的夢,每天醒著就是為了看夢,每天要睡就是為了造夢讓自己醒來能看,於是她夢見自己的夢‧‧‧‧‧‧不久,她變得怕光,整天躲在毛氈下,繼而索性躲在洞穴裡,不想與人交往,當播放機的電池壞掉,她就瘋了。其時因為一枚核能軀動的人造衛星隕落,巨大的電磁脈沖令幾乎所有電子產品失效,「世界」瀕於終結‧‧‧‧‧‧這個故事所預言的,是1999 年。

我們的生活狀況早超出了溫達斯在90 年代對「未來」與「終結」的想像。人們沒有因為災難靠在一起,「故事」也沒有救贖現實、讓迷路於夢者清醒的神奇力量。電影不可忽略的一個細節是,女主角一再夢見的可是自己:小時候在家屋前面游玩,在一處田園之中,在一片天海之前,男女模糊的身影一下蛻變成自己的形象,以及突然老去,面容憂鬱,陌生的自己,如鏡中不能直視的自身,憔悴,卻知道她不知道的秘密。我看著插上隔音耳機,手指屈曲在四、五吋屏幕上游移的搭客,不知自己與開在路上的車子和肉體,是否也存在於那持續更新,如地圖覆蓋天地山海城市與廢墟的即時動態與圖像誌裡;我突然覺到身體的重量,在時速上百公里的車上,背滲著汗,腰椎與坐骨發疼,好像就明白到一種對無痛的追求,必需以速度,感知與意義的全面統整,使三者互相置換、合一而達成。



留言 21 Jun, 13




本書收入四篇波德萊爾於1855 到1863 年間發表的評論文章。可惜本書未附有編譯者的序言,否則應可大大方便讀者進入1848 革命被鎮壓,法國步入第二帝國那種政治高壓,對外擴張、對內大肆拆遷重建的社會氛圍,理解詩人何以在其創作以外,以藝術評論方式提出理論與美學觀點的意義生產場域,從而更易理解詩人傾心的「現代性」美學、貴族遺風以至其東方主義者視角,之於當下的參照意義。至少,亦可得悉編譯者對「漫畫」或「諷刺漫畫」的具體定義,與今日一般理解的Manga 或 Comics 傳統的異同或淵源,與及在目錄文章和插畫取捨上的考慮。故此,筆者只能以外行人的角度記下粗略閱讀所得。

在〈論笑的本質〉(2)中,波德萊爾說明他對諷刺畫(caricature)的興趣,並不限於畫作本身,而在於諷刺畫不單記錄了現世生活的種種軼事、政治或宗教事件,成為一種歷史參照。另一方面,諷刺畫有一種神秘、永恆的特質,在於它能在「表現人自身的精神和肉體之醜的作品中引入美」,同時,此種醜中有美的現象,「在人身上引起一種持久的不可抑制的歡笑(hilarité immortelle et incorrigible)」(3)。在波德萊爾看來,「笑(le rire)來自對自己的優越(supériorité)的意識‧‧‧‧‧‧醫院裡所有的瘋子都意識到他們的過度發展的優越。我幾乎沒見過謙遜的瘋子」(4)。正因為觀者自覺與畫中描繪的社會面貌,有一種優越的「距離」,才會發笑。然而波德萊爾要說明的是,此種基於自命過人或獨善其身的歡笑,內含於諷刺畫的創作/敘事機制,同時也是世故,知道何謂「惡」的人性表現。能表現此種屬世性質的創作,每每能於人世的瘋狂與欲望之中衍生出顛覆力量。相反,但凡堅執於純潔,害怕欲望,嚴肅如像清教徒與哲學家的人,面對諷刺畫中展現的人世醜陋與美的矛盾或雙重性,只會感到恐懼與痛苦。

接下來的兩篇,〈論幾位法國諷刺漫畫家〉,〈論幾位外國諷刺漫畫家〉(5),延續了前文的其中一些論題,大量枚舉畫家因地域文化差異所衍生出不同的美感與趣味,表現十九世紀歐洲不同國家/民族對當代生活的不同價值取向。譬如,波德萊爾以夏萊(Nicolas Charlet,1792-1845)為反例,指其畫作多為「應時」而作,更是個「專一的愛國者」,「總是討好人民‧‧‧‧‧‧總是給予某個他喜歡的社會集團脈脈溫情」,波德萊爾認為正是這些特點讓不贊成普選(6)的夏萊無法成為「天才」與「世界公民」(7),然而詩人訴諸此種歐陸現代主體認同,即便不是反動也是複雜矛盾的。(8)而他對歐洲諸國/民族的畫家那種多以神秘或怪異為解釋框架的分類描述,如果沒有美術史的基礎,今日的讀者似乎難以置喙,但值得注意的是,這批文章發表期間,正值被認為是「史上第一場現代技術化戰爭」的克里米亞戰爭,歐洲東部接近俄羅斯的地區全面捲入戰爭,幾乎同時,法國亦參與了第二次鴉片戰爭,曾明言對「民主」懷疑,認為它像「洶湧潮水漫及一切,蕩平一切」(9)的波德萊爾,也不免受到當時流行的國族與人種論述的影響。

本書最後一篇〈現代生活的畫家〉(10)一直被認為是波德萊爾的「現代性」美學宣言,藉評論康士坦丁‧居依(Constantin Guys)的作品,提倡一種旨在於急速轉變的現世生活中摘取其中永恆之美的藝術方向與美學。它與書中介紹過的早期風俗漫畫家如加瓦爾尼(Carle Vernet,1758-1835) 或是杜米埃(Honoré Daumier,1808-1879)同一淵源,是巴爾扎克《人間喜劇》的外章,「不再專門是政治性的了;它成了對公民的普遍的諷刺,它進入了小說的領域」(11)。相對於〈論笑的本質〉提到基於驕傲的諷刺畫典形,波德來爾認為康士坦丁那些記錄著戰地軍旅、宮庭宴席、城市遊民、妓女等芸芸眾生的速寫畫,代表著一種以愛倫坡(Edgar Allan Poe)的《The Man of the Crowd》為原形,隱匿於人群裡的「熱情的觀察者」的視角,是畫家以一種跡乎戀棧的眼光,在時代急速催毀一切,近三份一巴黎人口因重建而流離失所的期間,歇力把現世「流行的東西中提取它可能包含著的在歷史中富有詩意的東西,從過渡中抽出永恆(de tirer l’éternel du transitoire)」(12)

1. 夏爾‧波德萊爾(Charles P. Baudelaire, 1821-67),《只要那裡有一種激情:波德萊爾論漫畫》,郭宏安譯(新北市:八旗文化,2012)。頁133。
2. 〈De l’ essence du rire.〉 發表於1855年。
3. 夏爾‧波德萊爾,《只要那裡有一種激情:波德萊爾論漫畫》,郭宏安譯(新北市:八旗文化,2012)。頁006。
4. 同上,頁014。
5. 〈Quelques caricaturistes francai〉 及 〈Quelques caricaturistes étrangers〉,發表於 1857年。
6. 中譯將原文「suffrage universel」誤譯為「舉世公認的東西」,見:夏爾‧波德萊爾(Charles P. Baudelaire, 1821-67),《只要那裡有一種激情:波德萊爾論漫畫》,郭宏安譯(新北市:八旗文化,2012)。頁46。
7. 夏爾‧波德萊爾,《只要那裡有一種激情:波德萊爾論漫畫》,郭宏安譯(新北市:八旗文化,2012)。頁042-048。
8. 這猶見於他在〈現代生活的畫家〉一篇,討論Constantin Guys 的一批戰地畫作中所持的殖民者視角,對其他民族的異國情調描繪沒有反思。
9. 夏爾‧波德萊爾,《只要那裡有一種激情:波德萊爾論漫畫》,郭宏安譯(新北市:八旗文化,2012)。頁191。
10. 〈Le Peintre de la vie moderne〉 發表於 1863年。
11. 夏爾‧波德萊爾,《只要那裡有一種激情:波德萊爾論漫畫》,郭宏安譯(新北市:八旗文化,2012)。頁68。
12. 同上,頁143。

圖說:Honoré Daumier. “Les poires” (“The Pears”), published 1831 in La Caricature.


留言 29 Apr, 13


有些時候,為了不想待在家裡盯著電腦、不想在家附近吃飯,就會走下小山坡、坐二十分鐘公車到新竹火車站附近蹓躂、漫無目的,餓到差不多了就隨便吃點湯板條或是炒飯,直到十點十五分尾班公車從SOGO 旁邊開出以前,就是讓自己走路的時間。


但有一個晚上,不知怎麼來到西大路上一家食店裡,坐在爐灶後面的小桌看著一家人忙活,吃了甚麼卻記不起來,只記得之後經過球迷不在,顯得有點破落的棒球場和旁邊幾家旅舍,沒走多遠就在經國路的交界停住了。不知是因為累了或是胃裡不舒服,我站在轉角看著那座橘色天橋下面機車飛嘯車燈若冷凍的火,聲音隔著PU耳塞竄擾,對面街滿目商店燈光透亮,沒法看清前路會彎進哪裡去,突然就覺得害怕,有些甚麼讓我預感,要是過了對面就會迷路。我好像想記住甚麼一樣在那轉角待了一會才截返。後來上網搜尋發現,那夜我剛好走出了嘉興十八年因「匪亂」而蓋的土城牆範圍。我的心理邊界與200 年前的統治者與臣民無異。



1 則留言 19 Apr, 13

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