2013年6月2日 星期日

0603 2013 一,



 昨天下午1點43分,南投發生規模6.3地震,有如1.4顆原子彈爆炸的威力,由於深度僅10公里,全台 都感受到搖晃;內政部消防署昨晚統計全台災情,計有2人死亡、1人失蹤、3人重傷、18人輕傷。圖為地震發生後一座新中橫山頭發生山崩,塵土飛揚。(南投 信義鄉玉山消防隊員張楷名提供)


近7點起 昨天沒睡好是熱和風扇問題  很慘

近9點20去買罐番茄汁.
50分大號是稀的  現在不知道何時去看醫生
55分接到晃三 的信
 
辰修兄你好;

5/28剛從大陸回來,讀到你對我的期待。委實不敢當。

在大陸時,資訊相當封閉,我對毒澱粉的事件所知實在不多。
當下看來這問題已經有太多人在關心了,
現在才來談,有點像是趕熱鬧
我實在說不出來要怎麼做。

年初談起的舞台的事,目前已經不存在了
我無意間闖入大陸的職場品格教育(對象是基督徒企業主和教牧人員}
想不到需求如此之大,邀請來自各方,大有招架不住之勢。
事實上,我這個禮拜天(6/9)又得出門,行程將包括溫州寧波廈門泉州和大連
要到6/30才能回來。

到了大陸,忙碌加上通訊不方便,我就得準備過接近與世隔絕的日子了。

三呆

最高興聽到三呆的好消息.
神洲好舞台
不是王兄出新征
誰知歷史有三呆


謝謝王金秋先生的玉荷包荔枝
*****
晃三兄給翁先生及一些 朋友的信

.".....年初談起的舞台的事,目前已經不存在了
我無意間闖入大陸的職場品格教育(對象是基督徒企業主和教牧人員}
想不到需求如此之大,邀請來自各方,大有招架不住之勢。
事實上,我這個禮拜天(6/9)又得出門,行程將包括溫州寧波廈門泉州和大連
要到6/30才能回來。
到了大陸,忙碌加上通訊不方便,我就得準備過接近與世隔絕的日子了。
三呆"
回信:最高興聽到三呆的好消息.
神洲好舞台
不是王兄出新征
誰知歷史有三呆
*****今早溫書
昨晚:...
a quotation from the medieval play Everyman in which the character of Knowledge says to Everyman:
Everyman, I will go with thee
and be thy guide,
In thy most need to go
by thy side.
This quotation appears on the title page of all Everyman's Library volumes

 將最好的玉荷包給YY 她1225才回自己煮菜

 下午3趟三總醫院 1230 掛號   睡1418去約1500才看診.
 要順便看甲狀線/糖尿病/手是否微抖....
抽寫. 繳費  領藥時單雙號之誤會.
 (看FB即時動態果子離談"原鄉"......)
第3次是近1600 準備拿屎樣品去.
送玉荷包一串給管理員---1630回來時他說"超好吃"的
這次去醫院來回都努力找健保卡. (在桌下--不知怎一回事)



謝謝王金秋先生的玉荷包牌荔枝 (我的一位朋友五粒一串之後說: "超好吃"的......).
 *****
 時瑋發近4小時在FB一系列照片,真讓我們這些70年代的學子感動「東海之貓」互動音樂劇今晚在此彩排,明後天晚上7:30連續在此公演。這是今年創藝學院第一件新整合成果。
 http://goo.gl/HjV5N
 *****

 The year 1821, in which Dostoevsky,Baudelaire, Flaubert, and Amiel were born, was ob-
viously a crucial moment in the spiritual history of the nineteenth century; and these four men, animated by a similar spirit of disillusion, are best understood inrelation to one another.

 Year 1821 (MDCCCXXI)
 April 9Charles Baudelaire, French poet and writer (d. 1867)
 Henri Frédéric Amiel (27 September 1821 – 11 May 1881) was a Swiss philosopher, poet and critic.  阿米爾《日記 http://goo.gl/GqFo5》
 November 11Fyodor Dostoevsky, Russian writer (d. 1881)
19世紀名日記作者Henri Frédéric Amiel 和書名的注,我現在補上。
"…If personality is the sum total of all one's experiences, all one's thoughts and emotions, inhibitions and liberations, acquisitions and inheritances, then it may be truthfully said "Ulysses" comes nearer to being the perfect revelation of a personality than any book in existence. Rousseau's "Confessions," Amiel's "Diary," Bashkirtseff's vaporings and Cassanova's "Memoirs" are first readers compared with it. "作者大膽剖白,誠實的程度令人咋舌。盧騷的《懺悔錄》、阿米爾《日記 http://goo.gl/GqFo5》(gutenberg.org)、瑪麗‧巴什克采夫的自我吹噓、《花花公子 Cassanova回憶錄》)根本瞠乎其後。"
 
(我跟梁永安先生說過 ,我曾讀過梁宗岱先生的 Amiel 翻譯,雖只百來字的 ,多少可知道 Amiel的文風與思想深度......)

Source: Walter Horatio Pater: « The Guardian » Chapter 2. Amiel's "Journal Intime"
Taken for what it is worth, the expression of this mood--the culture of ennui for its own sake--is certainly carried to its ideal of negation by Amiel.

Henri-Frédéric Amiel - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Henri-Frédéric_Amiel
This isolation inspired the one book by which Amiel is still known, the Journal Intime ("Private Journal"), which, published after his death, obtained a European ...


 死前1個月的日記



March 16, 1881.—A wretched night. A melancholy morning.... The two stand-bys of the doctor, digitalis and bromide, seem to have lost their power over me. Wearily and painfully I watch the tedious progress of my own decay. What efforts to keep one's self from dying! I am worn out with the struggle.
Useless and incessant struggle is a humiliation to one's manhood. The lion finds the gnat the most intolerable of his foes. The natural man feels the same. But the spiritual man must learn the lesson of gentleness and long-suffering. The inevitable is the will of God. We might have preferred something else, but it is our business to accept the lot assigned us.... One thing only is necessary—
  "Garde en mon coeur la foi dans ta volont� sainte,
  Et de moi fais, � Dieu, tout ce que tu voudras."
Later.—One of my students has just brought me a sympathetic message from my class. My sister sends me a pot of azaleas, rich in flowers and buds;——sends roses and violets: every one spoils me, which proves that I am ill.
March 19, 1881.—Distaste—discouragement. My heart is growing cold. And yet what affectionate care, what tenderness, surrounds me!... But without health, what can one do with all the rest? What is the good of it all to me? What was the good of Job's trials? They ripened his patience; they exercised his submission.
Come, let me forget myself, let me shake off this melancholy, this weariness. Let me think, not of all that is lost, but of all that I might still lose. I will reckon up my privileges; I will try to be worthy of my blessings.
March 21, 1881.—This invalid life is too Epicurean. For five or six weeks now I have done nothing else but wait, nurse myself, and amuse myself, and how weary one gets of it! What I want is work. It is work which gives flavor to life. Mere existence without object and without effort is a poor thing. Idleness leads to languor, and languor to disgust. Besides, here is the spring again, the season of vague desires, of dull discomforts, of dim aspirations, of sighs without a cause. We dream wide-awake. We search darkly for we know not what; invoking the while something which has no name, unless it be happiness or death.
March 28, 1881.—I cannot work; I find it difficult to exist. One may be glad to let one's friends spoil one for a few months; it is an experience which is good for us all; but afterward? How much better to make room for the living, the active, the productive.
  "Tircis, voici le temps de prendre sa retraite."斑點,現在是時候退休
Is it that I care so much to go on living? I think not. It is health that I long for—freedom from suffering.
And this desire being vain, I can find no savor in anything else. Satiety. Lassitude. Renunciation. Abdication. "In your patience possess ye your souls."
April 10, 1881. (Sunday).—Visit to ——. She read over to me letters of 1844 to 1845—letters of mine. So much promise to end in so meager a result! What creatures we are! I shall end like the Rhine, lost among the sands, and the hour is close by when my thread of water will have disappeared.
Afterward I had a little walk in the sunset. There was an effect of scattered rays and stormy clouds; a green haze envelops all the trees—
  "Et tout rena�t, et d�j� l'aub�pine
  A vu l'abeille accourir � ses fleurs,"
—but to me it all seems strange already.
Later.—What dupes we are of our own desires!... Destiny has two ways of crushing us—by refusing our wishes and by fulfilling them. But he who only wills what God wills escapes both catastrophes. "All things work together for his good."
April 14, 1881.—Frightful night; the fourteenth running, in which I have been consumed by sleeplessness....
April 15, 1881.—To-morrow is Good Friday, the festival of pain. I know what it is to spend days of anguish and nights of agony. Let me bear my cross humbly.... I have no more future. My duty is to satisfy the claims of the present, and to leave everything in order. Let me try to end well, seeing that to undertake and even to continue, are closed to me.
April 19, 1881.—A terrible sense of oppression. My flesh and my heart fail me.
  "Que vivre est difficile, � mon coeur fatigu�!"
 
 
 
 
 Nine months after his mother’s death, Roland Barthes made a brief entry 
to his diary of mourning: “Each of us has his own rhythm of suffering.” 
In the notes that make up his Mourning Diary, Barthes reflected
 on the particularity of an individual’s experience of loss, lamenting 
at once the “egoism” separating the mourner from others and the absence 
of social rituals that could lift the mourner out of his solitude and 
make his suffering more comprehensible. Even in his frustration with 
French society for its failure to externalize mourning, as “all 
judicious societies” have done, Barthes was able to endure his sorrow by
 putting it into words: 
“My suffering is inexpressible but all the same utterable, speakable.”
 Suffering at one’s own rhythm does not mean suffering silently.
 

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