陈升 - 纯情青春梦

此文登在5/6月号的New Left Review上，下午在人文图书馆阅览室里随手翻到，一气读完，果真应景。现全文转载，以“纪念”某八十八周年，也顺便作为对我豆瓣友邻广播里一堆“生日快樂　赤匪必亡”之类宣言的回应。

In his wonderful short text ‘Notes of a Publicist’—written in February 1922 when the Bolsheviks, after winning the Civil War against all odds, had to retreat into the New Economic Policy of allowing a much wider scope to the market economy and private property—Lenin uses the analogy of a climber who must backtrack from his first attempt to reach a new mountain peak to describe what retreat means in a revolutionary process, and how it can be done without opportunistically betraying the cause:

Let us picture to ourselves a man ascending a very high, steep and hitherto unexplored mountain. Let us assume that he has overcome unprecedented difficulties and dangers and has succeeded in reaching a much higher point than any of his predecessors, but still has not reached the summit. He finds himself in a position where it is not only difficult and dangerous to proceed in the direction and along the path he has chosen, but positively impossible.

In these circumstances, Lenin writes:

He is forced to turn back, descend, seek another path, longer, perhaps, but one that will enable him to reach the summit. The descent from the height that no one before him has reached proves, perhaps, to be more dangerous and difficult for our imaginary traveller than the ascent—it is easier to slip; it is not so easy to choose a foothold; there is not that exhilaration that one feels in going upwards, straight to the goal, etc. One has to tie a rope round oneself, spend hours with an alpenstock to cut footholds or a projection to which the rope could be tied firmly; one has to move at a snail’s pace, and move downwards, descend, away from the goal; and one does not know where this extremely dangerous and painful descent will end, or whether there is a fairly safe detour by which one can ascend more boldly, more quickly and more directly to the summit.

It would only be natural for a climber who found himself in such a position to have ‘moments of despondency’. In all probability these moments would be more numerous and harder to bear if he could hear the voices of those below, who ‘through a telescope and from a safe distance, are watching his dangerous descent’: ‘The voices from below ring with malicious joy. They do not conceal it; they chuckle gleefully and shout: “He’ll fall in a minute! Serve him right, the lunatic!”.’ Others try to conceal their malicious glee, behaving ‘more like Judas Golovlyov’, the notoriously hypocritical landowner in Saltykov-Shchedrin’s novel, The Golovlyov Family:

They moan and raise their eyes to heaven in sorrow, as if to say: ‘It grieves us sorely to see our fears justified! But did not we, who have spent all our lives working out a judicious plan for scaling this mountain, demand that the ascent be postponed until our plan was complete? And if we so vehemently protested against taking this path, which this lunatic is now abandoning (look, look, he has turned back! He is descending! A single step is taking him hours of preparation! And yet we were roundly abused when time and again we demanded moderation and caution!), if we so fervently censured this lunatic and warned everybody against imitating and helping him, we did so entirely because of our devotion to the great plan to scale this mountain, and in order to prevent this great plan from being generally discredited!’

Happily, Lenin continues, our imaginary traveller cannot hear the voices of these people who are ‘true friends’ of the idea of ascent; if he did, ‘they would probably nauseate him’—‘And nausea, it is said, does not help one to keep a clear head and a firm step, particularly at high altitudes.’

Of course, a metaphor does not amount to proof: ‘every analogy is lame’. Lenin goes on to spell out the actual situation confronting the infant Soviet republic:

Russia’s proletariat rose to a gigantic height in its revolution, not only when it is compared with 1789 and 1793, but also when compared with 1871. We must take stock of what we have done and what we have not as dispassionately, as clearly and as concretely as possible. If we do that we shall be able to keep clear heads. We shall not suffer from nausea, illusions, or despondency.

After enumerating the achievements of the Soviet state by 1922, Lenin explains what has not been done:

But we have not finished building even the foundations of socialist economy, and the hostile powers of moribund capitalism can still deprive us of that. We must clearly appreciate this and frankly admit it; for there is nothing more dangerous than illusions (and vertigo, particularly at high altitudes). And there is absolutely nothing terrible, nothing that should give legitimate grounds for the slightest despondency, in admitting this bitter truth; for we have always urged and reiterated the elementary truth of Marxism—that the joint efforts of the workers of several advanced countries are needed for the victory of socialism. We are still alone and in a backward country, a country that was ruined more than others, but we have accomplished a great deal.

More than that, Lenin notes, ‘we have preserved intact the army of the revolutionary proletarian forces; we have preserved its manoeuvring ability; we have kept clear heads and can soberly calculate where, when and how far to retreat (in order to leap further forward); where, when and how to set to work to alter what has remained unfinished.’ And he concludes:

Those Communists are doomed who imagine that it is possible to finish such an epoch-making undertaking as completing the foundations of socialist economy (particularly in a small-peasant country) without making mistakes, without retreats, without numerous alterations to what is unfinished or wrongly done. Communists who have no illusions, who do not give way to despondency, and who preserve their strength and flexibility ‘to begin from the beginning’ over and over again in approaching an extremely difficult task, are not doomed (and in all probability will not perish).

Fail better

This is Lenin at his Beckettian best, foreshadowing the line from Worstward Ho: ‘Try again. Fail again. Fail better.’ His conclusion—to begin from the beginning—makes it clear that he is not talking about merely slowing down and fortifying what has already been achieved, but about descending back to the starting point: one should begin from the beginning, not from the place that one succeeded in reaching in the previous effort. In Kierkegaard’s terms, a revolutionary process is not a gradual progress but a repetitive movement, a movement of repeating the beginning, again and again.

Georg Lukács ended his pre-Marxist masterwork Theory of the Novel with the famous sentence: ‘The voyage is over, the travel begins.’ This is what happens at the moment of defeat: the voyage of a particular revolutionary experience is over, but the true travel, the work of beginning again, is just starting. This willingness to retreat, however, in no way implies a non-dogmatic opening towards others, an admission to political competitors, ‘We were wrong, you were right in your warnings, so let us now join forces’. On the contrary, Lenin insists that such moments are the times when utmost discipline is needed. Addressing the Bolsheviks’ Eleventh Party Congress a few months later, in April 1922, he argued:

When a whole army (I speak in the figurative sense) is in retreat, it cannot have the same morale as when it is advancing. At every step you find a certain mood of depression . . . That is where the serious danger lies; it is terribly difficult to retreat after a great victorious advance, for the relations are entirely different. During a victorious advance, even if discipline is relaxed, everybody presses forward on his own accord. During a retreat, however, discipline must be more conscious and is a hundred times more necessary, because, when the entire army is in retreat, it does not know or see where it should halt. It sees only retreat; under such circumstances a few panic-stricken voices are, at times, enough to cause a stampede. The danger here is enormous. When a real army is in retreat, machine-guns are kept ready, and when an orderly retreat degenerates into a disorderly one, the command to fire is given, and quite rightly, too.

The consequences of this stance were very clear for Lenin. In answer to ‘the sermons’ on the NEP preached by Mensheviks and Socialist-Revolutionaries—‘The revolution has gone too far. What you are saying now we have been saying all the time, permit us to say it again’—he told the Eleventh Party Congress:

We say in reply: ‘Permit us to put you before a firing squad for saying that. Either you refrain from expressing your views, or, if you insist on expressing your political views publicly in the present circumstances, when our position is far more difficult than it was when the white guards were directly attacking us, then you will have only yourselves to blame if we treat you as the worst and most pernicious white-guard elements.’

This ‘red terror’ should nonetheless be distinguished from Stalinist ‘totalitarianism’. In his memoirs, Sándor Márai provided a precise definition of the difference. Even in the most violent phases of the Leninist dictatorship, when those who opposed the revolution were brutally deprived of their right to (public free) speech, they were not deprived of their right to silence: they were allowed to withdraw into inner exile. An episode from the autumn of 1922 when, on Lenin’s instigation, the Bolsheviks were organizing the infamous ‘Philosophers’ Steamer’, is indicative here. When he learned that an old Menshevik historian on the list of those intellectuals to be expelled had withdrawn into private life to await death due to heavy illness, Lenin not only took him off the list, but ordered that he be given additional food coupons. Once the enemy resigned from political struggle, Lenin’s animosity stopped.

For Stalinism, however, even such silence resonated too much. Not only were masses of people required to show their support by attending big public rallies, artists and scientists also had to compromise themselves by participating in active measures such as signing official proclamations, or paying lip-service to Stalin and the official Marxism. If, in the Leninist dictatorship, one could be shot for what one said, in Stalinism one could be shot for what one did not say. This was followed through to the very end: suicide itself, the ultimate desperate withdrawal into silence, was condemned by Stalin as the last and highest act of treason against the Party. This distinction between Leninism and Stalinism reflects their general attitude towards society: for the former, society is a field of merciless struggle for power, a struggle which is openly admitted; for the latter, the conflict is, sometimes almost imperceptibly, redefined as that of a healthy society against what is excluded from it—vermin, insects, traitors who are less than human.

A Soviet separation of powers?

Was the passage from Lenin to Stalin necessary? The Hegelian answer would evoke retroactive necessity: once this passage happened, once Stalin won, it was necessary. The task of a dialectical historian is to conceive it ‘in becoming’, bringing out all the contingency of a struggle that might have ended differently, as Moshe Lewin tried to do in Lenin’s Last Struggle. Lewin points, firstly, to Lenin’s insistence on full sovereignty for the national entities that composed the Soviet state—no wonder that, in a letter to the Politburo of 22 September 1922, Stalin openly accused Lenin of ‘national liberalism’. Secondly, he emphasizes Lenin’s stress on a modesty of goals: not socialism, but culture, universal literacy, efficiency, technocracy; cooperative societies, which would enable the peasants to become ‘cultured traders’ in the context of the NEP. This was obviously a very different outlook from that of ‘socialism in one country’. The modesty is sometimes surprisingly open: Lenin mocks all attempts to ‘build socialism’; he plays repeatedly on the motif of party deficiencies, and insists on the improvizational nature of Soviet policy, to the extent of quoting Napoleon’s ‘On s’engage . . . et puis on voit’.

Lenin’s final struggle against the rule of state bureaucracy is well known; what is less known, as Lewin perspicuously notes, is that Lenin had been trying to square the circle of democracy and the dictatorship of the party-state with his proposal for a new ruling body, the Central Control Commission. While fully admitting the dictatorial nature of the Soviet regime, he tried to establish at its summit a balance between different elements, a ‘system of reciprocal control that could serve the same function—the comparison is no more than approximate—as the separation of powers in a democratic regime’. An enlarged Central Committee would lay down the broad lines of policy and supervise the whole Party apparatus. Within it, the Central Control Commission would:

act as a control of the Central Committee and of its various offshoots—the Political Bureau, the Secretariat, the Orgburo . . . Its independence would be assured by its direct link to the Party Congress, without the mediation of the Politburo and its administrative organs or of the Central Committee.

Checks and balances, the division of powers, mutual control—this was Lenin’s desperate answer to the question: who controls the controllers? There is something dreamlike, properly phantasmatic, in this idea of a Central Control Commission: an independent, educational, controlling body with an ‘apolitical’ edge, consisting of the best teachers and technocrats, to keep in check the ‘politicized’ Central Committee and its organs—in short, neutral expertise keeping party executives in line. All this, however, hinges on the true independence of the Party Congress—de facto already undermined by the prohibition of factions, which allowed the top Party apparatus to control the Congress and dismiss its critics as factionalists. The naivety of Lenin’s trust in specialists is all the more striking if we bear in mind that it came from a leader who was otherwise fully aware of the all-pervasiveness of political struggle, which allows for no neutral position.

The direction in which the wind was already blowing is apparent in Stalin’s 1922 proposal to simply proclaim the government of the Russian Soviet Federative Socialist Republic as also the government of the republics of Ukraine, Belarus, Azerbaijan, Armenia and Georgia:

If this decision is confirmed by the Central Committee of the RCP, it will not be made public, but communicated to the Central Committees of the Republics for circulation among the Soviet organs, the Central Executive Committees or the Congresses of the Soviets of the said Republics before the convocation of the All-Russian Congress of the Soviets, where it will be declared to be the wish of these Republics.

The interaction of the higher authority with its base is thus not only abolished—so that the higher authority simply imposes its will—but, adding insult to injury, it is re-staged as its opposite: the CC decides what wish the base will put to the higher authority as its own.

Tact and terror

A further feature of Lenin’s final battles to which Lewin draws our attention is an unexpected focus on politeness and civility. Lenin had been deeply upset by two incidents: in a political debate, Moscow’s representative in Georgia, Sergo Ordzhonikidze, had physically struck a member of the Georgian CC; and Stalin himself had verbally abused Krupskaya (having discovered that she had transmitted to Trotsky Lenin’s letter proposing a pact against Stalin). The latter incident prompted Lenin to write his famous appeal:

Stalin is too rude, and this defect, though quite tolerable in our midst and in dealings among us Communists, becomes intolerable in a General Secretary. That is why I suggest that the comrades think about a way to remove Stalin from that post and appoint in his place another man who in all respects differs from Comrade Stalin in his superiority, that is, more tolerant, more loyal, more courteous and more considerate of the comrades, less capricious.

Lenin’s proposals for a Central Control Commission and his concern that civility be maintained in no way indicate a liberal softening. In a letter to Kamenev from this same period, he clearly states: ‘It is a great mistake to think that the NEP put an end to terror; we shall again have recourse to terror and to economic terror.’ However, this terror, which would survive the planned reduction of the state apparatus and Cheka, would have been more a threat than an actuality: as Lewin recounts, Lenin sought a means ‘whereby all those who would now [under the NEP] like to go beyond the limits assigned to businessmen by the state could be reminded “tactfully and politely” of the existence of this ultimate weapon.’ Lenin was right here: dictatorship refers to the constitutive excess of (state) power, and at this level, there is no neutrality. The crucial question is whose excess? If it is not ours, it is theirs.

In dreaming, to use his own expression, about the CCC’s mode of work in his final 1923 text, ‘Better Fewer, But Better’, Lenin suggests that this body should resort to:

some semi-humorous trick, cunning device, piece of trickery or something of that sort. I know that in the staid and earnest states of Western Europe such an idea would horrify people and that not a single decent official would even entertain it. I hope, however, that we have not yet become as bureaucratic as all that and that in our midst the discussion of this idea will give rise to nothing more than amusement.

Indeed, why not combine pleasure with utility? Why not resort to some humorous or semi-humorous trick to expose something ridiculous, something harmful, something semi-ridiculous, semi-harmful, etc.?

Is this not almost an obscene double of the ‘serious’ executive power concentrated in the CC and Politburo? Tricks, cunning of reason—a wonderful dream, but a utopia nonetheless. Lenin’s weakness, Lewin argues, was that he saw the problem of bureaucratization, but understated its weight and true dimension: ‘his social analysis was based on only three social classes—the workers, the peasants and the bourgeoisie—without taking any account of the state apparatus as a distinct social element in a country that had nationalized the main sectors of the economy.’

The Bolsheviks quickly became aware that their political power lacked a distinct social basis: most of the working class on whose behalf they exerted their rule had vanished in the Civil War, so they were in a way ruling in a void of social representation. However, in imagining themselves as a pure political power imposing its will on society, they overlooked how—since it de facto owned, or acted as caretaker for the absent owner of, the forces of production—the state bureaucracy ‘would become the true social basis of power’:

There is no such thing as ‘pure’ political power, devoid of any social foundation. A regime must find some other social basis than the apparatus of repression itself. The ‘void’ in which the Soviet regime had seemed to be suspended had soon been filled, even if the Bolsheviks had not seen it, or did not wish to see it.

Arguably, this base would have blocked Lenin’s project of a CCC. It is true that, in both an anti-economistic and determinist way, Lenin insists on the autonomy of the political, but what he misses, in Badiou’s terms, is not how every political force represents some social force or class, but how this political force of representation is directly inscribed into the represented level itself, as a social force of its own. Lenin’s last struggle against Stalin thus has all the hallmarks of a proper tragedy: it was not a melodrama in which the good guy fights the bad guy, but a tragedy in which the hero becomes aware that he is fighting his own progeny, and that it is already too late to stop the fateful unfolding of his wrong decisions in the past.

A different path

So where are we today, after the désastre obscur of 1989? As in 1922, the voices from below ring with malicious joy all around us: ‘Serves you right, lunatics who wanted to enforce their totalitarian vision on society!’ Others try to conceal their malicious glee; they moan and raise their eyes to heaven in sorrow, as if to say: ‘It grieves us sorely to see our fears justified! How noble was your vision to create a just society! Our heart was beating with you, but reason told us that your plans would finish only in misery and new unfreedoms!’ While rejecting any compromise with these seductive voices, we definitely have to begin from the beginning—not to build further upon the foundations of the revolutionary epoch of the 20th century, which lasted from 1917 to 1989, or, more precisely, 1968—but to descend to the starting point and choose a different path.

But how? The defining problem of Western Marxism has been the lack of a revolutionary subject: how is it that the working class does not complete the passage from in-itself to for-itself and constitute itself as a revolutionary agent? This question provided the mainraison d’être for Western Marxism’s reference to psychoanalysis, which was evoked to explain the unconscious libidinal mechanisms preventing the rise of class consciousness that are inscribed into the very being or social situation of the working class. In this way, the truth of the Marxist socio-economic analysis was saved: there was no reason to give ground to revisionist theories about the rise of the middle classes. For this same reason, Western Marxism has also engaged in a constant search for others who could play the role of the revolutionary agent, as the understudy replacing the indisposed working class: Third World peasants, students and intellectuals, the excluded. It is just possible that this desperate search for the revolutionary agent is the form of appearance of its very opposite: the fear of finding it, of seeing it where it already stirs. Waiting for another to do the job for us is a way of rationalizing our inactivity.

It is against this background that Alain Badiou has suggested we should reassert the communist hypothesis. He writes:

If we have to abandon this hypothesis, then it is no longer worth doing anything at all in the field of collective action. Without the horizon of communism, without this Idea, nothing in historical and political becoming is of any interest to a philosopher.

However, Badiou continues:

to hold on to the Idea, the existence of the hypothesis, does not mean that its first form of presentation, focused on property and the state, must be maintained just as it is. In fact, what we are ascribed as a philosophical task, even a duty, is to help a new modality of existence of the hypothesis to come into being.

One should be careful not to read these lines in a Kantian way, conceiving of communism as a regulative Idea, and thereby resuscitating the spectre of ‘ethical socialism’, with equality as its a priori norm or axiom. Rather, one should maintain the precise reference to a set of social antagonisms which generates the need for communism; the good old Marxian notion of communism not as an ideal, but as a movement which reacts to actual contradictions. To treat communism as an eternal Idea implies that the situation which generates it is no less eternal, that the antagonism to which communism reacts will always be here. From which it is only one step to a deconstructive reading of communism as a dream of presence, of abolishing all alienating representation; a dream which thrives on its own impossibility.

Though it is easy to make fun of Fukuyama’s notion of the End of History, the majority today is Fukuyamaist. Liberal-democratic capitalism is accepted as the finally found formula of the best possible society; all one can do is to render it more just, tolerant and so on. The simple but pertinent question arises here: if liberal-democratic capitalism is, if not the best, then the least bad form of society, why should we not simply resign ourselves to it in a mature way, even accept it wholeheartedly? Why insist on the communist hypothesis, against all odds?

Class and commons

It is not enough to remain faithful to the communist hypothesis: one has to locate antagonisms within historical reality which make it a practical urgency. The only truequestion today is: does global capitalism contain antagonisms strong enough to prevent its indefinite reproduction? Four possible antagonisms present themselves: the looming threat of ecological catastrophe; the inappropriateness of private property for so-called intellectual property; the socio-ethical implications of new techno-scientific developments, especially in biogenetics; and last, but not least, new forms of social apartheid—new walls and slums. We should note that there is a qualitative difference between the last feature, the gap that separates the excluded from the included, and the other three, which designate the domains of what Hardt and Negri call ‘commons’—the shared substance of our social being, whose privatization is a violent act which should be resisted by force, if necessary.

First, there are the commons of culture, the immediately socialized forms of cognitive capital: primarily language, our means of communication and education, but also shared infrastructure such as public transport, electricity, post, etc. If Bill Gates were allowed a monopoly, we would have reached the absurd situation in which a private individual would have owned the software tissue of our basic network of communication. Second, there are the commons of external nature, threatened by pollution and exploitation—from oil to forests and the natural habitat itself—and, third, the commons of internal nature, the biogenetic inheritance of humanity. What all of these struggles share is an awareness of the destructive potential—up to the self-annihilation of humanity itself—in allowing the capitalist logic of enclosing these commons a free run. It is this reference to ‘commons’ which allows the resuscitation of the notion of communism: it enables us to see their progressive enclosure as a process of proletarianization of those who are thereby excluded from their own substance; a process that also points towards exploitation. The task today is to renew the political economy of exploitation—for instance, that of anonymous ‘knowledge workers’ by their companies.

It is, however, only the fourth antagonism, the reference to the excluded, that justifies the term communism. There is nothing more private than a state community which perceives the excluded as a threat and worries how to keep them at a proper distance. In other words, in the series of the four antagonisms, the one between the included and the excluded is the crucial one: without it, all the others lose their subversive edge. Ecology turns into a problem of sustainable development, intellectual property into a complex legal challenge, biogenetics into an ethical issue. One can sincerely fight for the environment, defend a broader notion of intellectual property, oppose the copyrighting of genes, without confronting the antagonism between the included and the excluded. Even more, one can formulate some of these struggles in terms of the included threatened by the polluting excluded. In this way, we get no true universality, only ‘private’ concerns in the Kantian sense. Corporations such as Whole Foods and Starbucks continue to enjoy favour among liberals even though they both engage in anti-union activities; the trick is that they sell products with a progressive spin: coffee made with beans bought at ‘fair-trade’ prices, expensive hybrid vehicles, etc. In short, without the antagonism between the included and the excluded, we may find ourselves in a world in which Bill Gates is the greatest humanitarian, fighting poverty and disease, and Rupert Murdoch the greatest environmentalist, mobilizing hundreds of millions through his media empire.

What one should add here, moving beyond Kant, is that there are social groups which, on account of their lack of a determinate place in the ‘private’ order of social hierarchy, stand directly for universality: they are what Jacques Rancière calls the ‘part of no part’ of the social body. All truly emancipatory politics is generated by the short-circuit between the universality of the public use of reason and the universality of the ‘part of no part’. This was already the communist dream of the young Marx—to bring together the universality of philosophy with the universality of the proletariat. From Ancient Greece, we have a name for the intrusion of the excluded into the socio-political space: democracy.

The predominant liberal notion of democracy also deals with those excluded, but in a radically different mode: it focuses on their inclusion, as minority voices. All positions should be heard, all interests taken into account, the human rights of everyone guaranteed, all ways of life, cultures and practices respected, and so on. The obsession of this democracy is the protection of all kinds of minorities: cultural, religious, sexual, etc. The formula of democracy here consists of patient negotiation and compromise. What gets lost in this is the position of universality embodied in the excluded. The new emancipatory politics will no longer be the act of a particular social agent, but an explosive combination of different agents. What unites us is that, in contrast to the classic image of proletarians who have ‘nothing to lose but their chains’, we are in danger of losing everything. The threat is that we will be reduced to an abstract, empty Cartesian subject dispossessed of all our symbolic content, with our genetic base manipulated, vegetating in an unliveable environment. This triple threat makes us all proletarians, reduced to ‘substanceless subjectivity’, as Marx put it in the Grundrisse. The figure of the ‘part of no part’ confronts us with the truth of our own position; and the ethico-political challenge is to recognize ourselves in this figure. In a way, we are all excluded, from nature as well as from our symbolic substance. Today, we are all potentially homo sacer, and the only way to avoid actually becoming so is to act preventively.

V. I. Lenin, ‘Notes of a Publicist’, published posthumously in Pravda, 16 April 1924;Collected Works, vol. 33, Moscow 1966, pp. 204–7.

Samuel Beckett, ‘Worstward Ho’, Nohow On, London 1992, p. 101.

Lenin, ‘Eleventh Congress of the RCP(B)’, Collected Works, vol. 33, pp. 281–3.

Sándor Márai, Memoir of Hungary: 1944–1948, Budapest 1996.

Moshe Lewin, Lenin’s Last Struggle [1968], Ann Arbor, MI 2005. pp. 131–2.

Quoted in Lewin, Lenin’s Last Struggle, Appendix 1, pp. 146–7.

Lewin, Lenin’s Last Struggle, p. 84.

Lewin, Lenin’s Last Struggle, p. 133.

Lenin, ‘Better Fewer, But Better’, Collected Works, vol. 33, p. 495.

Lewin, Lenin’s Last Struggle, p. 125.

Lewin, Lenin’s Last Struggle, p. 124.

Alain Badiou, The Meaning of Sarkozy, London and New York 2008, p. 115.

我是故意选择在看完歌剧《江姐》之后看这部电影的，虽然这种行为一如既往的作，它还是起到一种作用，让你看清这些后革命时代里打着把“人性”、“真实”从样板戏那里拯救出来的旗号的大导演们，到底持有怎样的历史观。陆川有意采用了极为克制的镜头语言，本片里奸淫掳掠场景数量和惨烈程度比起十几年前的《南京大屠杀》几乎可以忽略不计。在陆川的解释中，屠杀行为发生的缘起不带有任何意识形态成分，仅仅是被遗留的中国军人搞成惊弓之鸟的日本人宁可错杀一千的自卫行为。由此，中国观影者所预设的认同被最大程度地弱化了，取而代之的是角川那纯洁的，人性的，从而也是中性的视角。可是到了影片的后半段，陆川对战争的中性化解释越来越使得屠杀变得莫名其妙，不仅在中国受难者的眼中，而且在角川的眼中，那些行为都是那么的不可思议，虽然他置身其中，却好像跟他自己没有半毛钱关系。因此，我并不认为角川的作用是毛尖所谓间离，因为间离的作用在于暴露使自身同角色相认同的主体化过程和舞台表演的政治性（事实上，这部电影的所有场景都布置得极其舞台化，或者说，非现实化），而角川呢，却是在抽象的暴力者旁边安放的另一个抽象的“好人”，完全无助于对屠杀行为的历史分析。

这部电影的人物塑造，尤其是主要中国角色的塑造极为失败，行为逻辑前后不一，别人我就不说了，那个小男孩，他在刘烨身边的作用，和影片子后吹着蒲公英表现可笑而可悲的”自由“的作用相较，简直就是一种反讽。很明显的，陆川试图用他的电影讨好所有人，我倒宁可这样的企图是出于商业目的，也不愿意相信这就是陆川先生所理解的普遍人性。除此你还会发现，纪实镜头、黑白影像、某些奇观场景的消音处理，不断地和去政治的通俗剧桥段混搭在一起。所以角川第一次打死中国难民是纯然的“意外事件”，第一次和慰安妇上床是出于纯洁的“爱情”（并且他还献出了处子之身，美丽的慰安妇不仅不加反抗，还以自己柔软的身体为他完成了人性的启蒙），打死姜老师是因应后者的要求，放走两个中国人则竟然是影片的最后救赎：通过对角川的脱罪化，我们终于意识到导演根本没打算让角川承担反思历史的重任，反而巴不得所有观影者都跟角川一样陷进温柔乡，”良心发现“，”高扬人性“到这个程度就好。Make love no war!

相比于共产党文艺的简单粗暴，新的战争叙事其实只有表面的多义性，而它真正的代价在于，杀戮与战争等暴力行为越来越脱离于使它们得以发生的历史语境（真正的暴力场域），从而，对它的反抗也不可能具有任何超越性，只会像《南京，南京》中所呈现的那样，”人“无法战胜”魔鬼“，只能靠魔鬼瞬间迸发的“人性”得以苟延残喘。陆川就这样让孩子得救了，并且还欢欣鼓舞，还竟然吹起蒲公英。影片前半段陆剑雄们的怒吼“中国不会亡”被轻易地消解了，日本人的祭祀典礼成为全片中最为暴力的场景，其死亡的彼岸性质强烈地对比于中国人生死的零度状态。而最可怕的是陆川自己对于这种对比的解释：

“我不是那种一上来就给它一个特别高立意的人，我可能因为一个戏特别冲动地想去拍。《南京！南京！》有那么两三场戏是我在拍戏之前眼睛里就看到的，比如那场祭祀舞蹈，可以说我有一个特别巨大的欲望想把这舞蹈拍出来，但为什么想拍这个舞蹈，我很难给你一个明确的解释。我觉得这事有特别大的意义在里面，这个意义会让我睡不着觉。我们必须把这段鼓和这段祭祀带到所有中国人面前。因为这种威胁，这种被征服的威胁从来就没有消失过，而且人家一直在那儿继承着呢。他们可能不冲中国，就随时的。现在让我们汉族，或让我们中国人拿出一段震慑人心的代代相承的文化的东西，我觉得已经没了，我们就剩秧歌了，我们真正的东西在哪儿呢？战争的本质说到底是精神的折磨，它是一种文化在你的废墟上舞蹈。那天听完那哥俩敲鼓之后，我们所有人都特别悚然。那一瞬间，我觉得我们做了一件特别对的事儿。” （摘自《三联生活周刊》陆川访谈）

在陆川的眼中，至今飘荡在我们周围的战争的幽灵不仅是暴力的极至，也是美学形式的极至。通过将侵略行为再次神秘化为一种民族身体的舞蹈，陆川不仅没有走出，而且深深地陷进以区分优劣民族为己任的战争逻辑中。他对日本人的英灵祭祀的深深恐惧/迷恋隐含着另一个意思：中国人没有可以被献祭的宗教身体，所以我们从根本上是不可能“得救”的。当然，陆川还以角川的名义给我们指了另一条不那么屈辱的救赎之路：要对抗日本神道？请大家改信基督教。

国家大剧院官网新闻稿

终于不再只是”流言“。
又加了一场马勒室内乐团的演出，这五场演出的取舍必将经历蛮长的思想斗争。另外，鉴于阿巴多和卢赛恩的号召力，可以想象到时有多少人不远万里奔向北京。要想买到价格便宜量又足的门票，请坚持每天刷新票务网站。

下半年可知的演出除了琉森和格万特豪斯之外，又有9月的Harding+LSO，以及11月的云门舞集。为了过好这个秋天，我决定抵制之前一切门票过百的演出的诱惑，尤其是古典音乐演出。

——

在这之前写了一篇关于最近某些不和谐事件的日志，结果保存的时候出现了之前从未见到的错误提示。这意味着我自己花钱买来的空间终于也要笼罩于服务器托管商的过滤系统之下了。而继youtube后，blogspot在前几天再次被墙。一边是一个又一个公共性事件引爆的民怨，一边是愈发高科技也愈发生硬的暴力机器。但真的会有什么事情发生吗？其实我在之前那篇支离破碎的笔记里，已经基本表达了意见。

不要再一边说着今天我们都是四川人这样的话一边向四川人民洒几滴同情的泪水。真相恰恰相反，四川就是中国，这一年来发生的和不能发生的一切就是我们所生活的这个国家本身。一年前我在台湾，博客里频繁更新与地震有关的日志。我记得我们热烈地讨论过使新政治开启，使社会主义的幽灵显形的那些时刻，似乎颇寄望于整个国家的受难状态里微渺的可能性。不久以后我回到北京，新闻媒体中地震的余波越来越微弱，我们终于看到中央电视台恢复“常态”，隆重而热烈地渲染英雄的中国人民如何又一次“战胜”了灾难。不久后看到王晓明先生关于地震的文章《新的国家认同及其未来》，我读了一半，没有读下去。秋天他还去了交大社文所谈同一主题，可惜那时我已离开台湾，否则，也许要当面向我尊敬的前辈泼一泼冷水。文章里，王老师不免要用鲁迅腔来先问一句：能打破么？一年过去，不知道他是否得到了答案。

我们要纪念，哀悼。可是如何纪念？如何哀悼？我们让逝者安息的方式，是让那场梦魇彻底过去让光明把影子吞噬，还是在那场地震后终于意识到，我们所有生者都不过是劫后余生，负笈对死者的永远的债务，注定要学习如何同鬼魂一起生活。我们不可能战胜灾难，因为灾难与死亡从不外在于我们，它们就种植在我们体内。5.12构成了一个寓言性的时刻，使我们震惊于我们所生活的城市本身早已是一片废墟，那些在豆腐渣下掩埋的年轻生命一直在召唤着我们。却也正因为此，我们不该只是我们所是的这个样子，默默承受这一切。Wessell说，倘若没有绝对的受难，无产阶级不可能发挥拯救者的作用。可是我们没有无产阶级，我们是一群生怕被鬼魂惊扰的苟活者，要通过使所发生的一切最终成为什么也没有发生来自我抚慰。

地震中的中国确曾经无限接近一个真正的例外状态，就像晓明先生在文中写的：“它刺激民众重新睁大警惕人祸的眼睛，也令许多人祸的制造者气短神靡，至少在一段时间里，自觉不自觉地收敛和退缩。当灾民群起围攻那些利用职权、私取救灾物资的不良官商的时候，当抗议者面对警察，忿激地说：“这个时候还这么搞，太不像话！”的时候，当举国上下强烈要求监督捐款流向的时候，甚至当贵州某地民怨爆发、网上议论滔滔、中央领导直接介入、肇事官员即遭革职的时候，你都能清楚地感觉到，惨烈的灾难已经打破了萎靡消沉的社会气氛，并且在这个意义上，开始改变现实的力量对比。 ”可是真正的政治是一个极其短暂的过程。它终于要通过一场又一场的授奖仪式，一片又一片被清除的废墟（里面到处都是我们一直在受难的证据），一个又一个被彻底景观化的地点，证明自己最终不过作为一次偶然的失序，终要被矫正，被“战胜”，从而在存在的肯定秩序中重新注册。

就像Agamben说坦克终将开进广场一样，以一种高明的多的方式，我们又一次自己背叛了真理。

和朝廷台今晚播放的以两位大官人如何慰问群众为主题的纪录片形成强烈的反差。

http://mytv.tvb.com/news/sundayreport/24665

From “The world sixties”,  Christopher Cornery

齐泽克在解读马克思的“阶级”概念时，区分了两个在马克思的著作中相互混淆的概念：“工人阶级”与“无产阶级”。在齐泽克看来，前者所指称的是一个“中立社会学的研究对象”，属于事实领域，而后者则意指“真理的运作者，即革命斗争的动力源”。在《去政治化的政治》一文中，汪老师通过《雾月十八》中对法国小农阶级的形成过程的分析以及对葛兰西的文化领导权概念的解读得出与齐泽克相似的结论：有两个“阶级”概念，一为结构性的概念，二为政治性的概念。对马克思而言，是否要在工人阶级与无产阶级之间作出明确的区分也许无关紧要，因为它们互相包含，构成了阶级概念的辩证统一体。然而在后来的马克思主义阐释中，这两个层面的其中一个又往往被忽略，从而导致了对“阶级”概念，以及“物质”与“意识”关系的僵硬理解。在于治中老师的某一节课上，某位师兄便数次追问于老师对语言的物质性的强调是否与“物质决定意识”的古老马克思主义命题相悖，并一定要捍卫马克思主义的“科学性”。这根本上便是因为其停留在对“物质”的非辩证的理解上，用卢卡奇的话来说，便是把“思维的对象作为某种与主体异在的东西”，一个不变的，实证性的，“直接性”的存在。一方面，正如卢卡奇对当时的欧洲社会民主党的尖锐批判，经济决定论距离形而上学比它距离历史唯物论要近得多。同样的，生物学主义的进化论只是一种“伪运动”，它的表面的相对化掩盖了其所基于的静止的世界。另一方面，康德的困境就在于作为有限存在的人（即纯思维的有限性）与作为绝对的物自体的“客观真理性”之间无法消弭的鸿沟。在批判“人类学”和“人道主义”不把人自身也作为辨证的存在加以考察这一点上，马克思与卢卡奇要比福柯早得多。马克思在著名的《关于费尔巴哈的提纲》第二条中明确写道：“人的思维是否具有客观的真理性，这并不是一个理论的问题，而是一个实践的问题。人应该在实践中证明自己思维的真理性，及自己思维的现实性和力量，亦即自己思维的此岸性。关于离开实践的思维是否具有现实性的争论，是一个纯粹经院哲学的问题。”当他说真理不是一个理论问题的时候，他不是在否定思维的作用，而恰恰是在强调思维本身的物质性（实践性）。思维不是应该同一个外在的对象相一致，而是思维本身既是一种对象化的过程。因此，资本主义的内在矛盾不会必然导致其自身的崩解（想想我们今天的处境），离开了具体历史实践的意识本身也决不可能与真理相遇。我们也应该在同样的意义上去理解本雅明《作为生产者的作家》的最后一段话：“他越这样对自己在生产过程中的位置知道得清楚，就越少想到把自己说成‘富有精神的人’。精神这个在法西斯主义名下听到的字眼必须消失。怀着对自己神奇力量的自信向它迎面而去的精神将会消失。因为革命的斗争不是发生在资本主义和精神之间，而是发生在资本主义和无产阶级之间。”

马克思把“意识形态”指派给资产阶级，谈到无产阶级时则换了一个术语叫“世界观”，无产阶级与资产阶级的“阶级意识”之间的差别就在于，后者错误地“认为能在经验的历史的个体身上（个体可以是一个人，一个阶级或一个民族），在个体的经验地既定的（因此是心理学的或群众心理学的）意识中，发现那个具体。”因此，资产阶级的意识是一种“虚假意识”（但卢卡奇也解释了此“意识”本身的辩证性，即一方面它把最抽象的东西当作了最具体的东西，脱离了作为社会总体的人和人的关系，掩盖了这一意识本身在具体历史进程中的生产过程，因而是虚假的；另一方面它又表现为在现有的社会-语言系统中可以被理解和必须被理解的东西，在此意义上又是“正确的”意识。由此我们可以理解于治中老师所强调的“颠倒”与“反映”的对立统一）。而无产阶级“唯一有效的优势就是：它有能力把整个社会看做是具体的、历史的总体；有能力把物化形式把握为人与人之间的过程；有能力积极地意识到发展的内在意义并将其付诸实践。”“阶级”不能被理解为一个同质性的，具有其本质存在的“类”，相反的，“无产阶级一无所有”（这个判断不止在经济学的意义上成立，更应该在存在论的意义上来理解，这就是为什么存在乐观的虚无主义），它的存在是一种否定的存在。通过主观上对其历史命运和造成这一历史命运的物化过程的双重体认，无产阶级把自己理解为资本主义社会的“生存矛盾”本身（齐泽克语），从而它的阶级主体把自己表现为一种真正的普遍性（“无产阶级只有解放全人类才能解放无产阶级自身”）。在《马克思与浪漫派的反讽》中，Wessell认为，“反讽”是“无产阶级”的根本存在方式：“当‘我必须成为一切’和‘我没有任何地位’对立的两极，在有限的个人阶级中重合为戏剧的张力时，这一阶级的物质现实和物质力量就转变为人民社会‘灵魂’的头脑和心脏。因此，社会的碎片转变为精神化的阶级，转变为整体的社会代表。把灵魂从人民那里移开，那么根本不可能有解放的革命，只有纯粹生物学上的动物的绝望愤怒。马克思之所以能够发现物质力量是革命力量，是因为他已经把精神结构注入到物质力量中去了。”……“只有作为绝对的否定，即作为对‘所有’的肯定性的抽象，所有人类阶级才可超越有限的地位，成为活生生的世界，成为救赎的力量，或称为具有‘人民灵魂’的‘一’。”——正是在这个意义上，卢卡奇提醒无产阶级不要掉入它的“直接的存在”的陷阱当中，当我们仅仅以社会学意义上的工人阶级在生产方式中的客观定位来理解其阶级性时，“它就只是资本主义社会的一个因素，而不同时又是资本主义社会的自我解体和灭亡的动力”。因此，齐泽克认为，要成为无产阶级，就必须要有一个特定的主观立场（“无产阶级要成为世界的主人”），分辨阶级斗争的敌人的标准不是他的经济学意义上的阶级出身，也不是他的生物学属性（种族，血统）——作为对即有的社会秩序的客观、中立的肯定——而是其激进主观性（对于前述社会秩序的生产过程的主观认识及其否定实践）。法西斯运动之所以是一个“伪事件”，正是因为它通过生物主义的“客观性”将世界本质化为“我们”和“他们”，从而原有的社会秩序一点都没有改变。伟大光荣正确的汪老师在同样的意义上批评文化大革命中的阶级斗争逐渐陷入的去政治化和非辨证的状况。齐泽克说：“当政治运动假装完全意识到正义，并把它转化为事物的真实状态，接着从虚幻的未来民主转换到‘真实民主’时，我们就陷入了极权主义灾难中……伟大变成了魔鬼。”

我们今天的一个关键困境在于，所有的实践活动，包括形形色色的反抗运动都以接受即有的存在体系作为基础。贾樟柯在谈论《三峡好人》时明确承认，韩三明们“做一个决定”的背景是“中国真正的变化已经结束了”。所有在中国当代所发生的不公不义都仅仅被当作是没能保持法律的绝对中立性，没能维护市场的自主性，没能遵从民主的抽象原则而导致的悲剧。他们不愿意听从作为一个宪法学家的卡尔施密特的断言，主权源自对例外状态的决断。从左翼的角度，这一断言也许应该被理解成，例外决断的暴力乃是内在于法律的秩序，资产阶级法权正是以不断通过暴力过程重新巩固，确认和本体化自身的存在秩序来自我合法化的。今天，再也没有人提批判资产阶级法权，批判法律作为统治意识形态这件事了。只有相对于合法的不合法，相对于秩序的失序。原始积累的野蛮暴力如何作为建立市场秩序的基础更是被忘记。

再重复一下上文的逻辑：当我们在说无产阶级作为资本主义社会中的一个异质性的存在，把自身的异质性表述为所有人的普遍处境时，我们就是在说，异质性的革命本身所诉诸的不是异质性内部的同一性认同，不是把原来的世界分为两个互相平行的世界，因为如果是这样，就等于重新肯定了原有世界中的区分逻辑。相反的，革命诉诸的是普遍性，一种单一（？应该用哪个词来翻呢，一直没有看到特别令人满意的，不会引起误解的专有名词）的普遍性（singular universality)，一种不暗示必然性的存在的绝对偶然。然而，我们知道在一个存在的知识体系中没有什么东西是singular的，只有particularity，所有过剩的排泄物都以一种中立化的”特殊（particular）生活方式“而被原有的意义系统所吸收，编码（我们只要看看性解放运动在今日的结局便知）。在原有知识体系的因果链条下，没有什么是不可能的，不可理解的。本雅明正是在这个意义上区分他所谓的“真正的例外状态”与施密特的那个“例外状态”。后者是对法律“常态”的维护的基础，也就不可避免要导致区分，排除的逻辑。前者则基于一种”eskhaton”, 它的基础是一个绝对的自我命名的时刻，在Badiou看来，就是通过一个微小的差异从存在的秩序中扣除（subtractive）出来的那个时刻，是使不可能，使毫无道理，使“不可决定”“发生”的时刻。马克思说：“就像一个刚学会一种新语言的人总是要把它翻译成本国语言一样；只有当他能够不必在心里把新语言翻译成本国语言，当他能够忘掉本国语言来运用新语言的时候，他才算领会了新语言的精神，才算是运用自如。”只有当书写的差异（间离）逻辑取代了翻译的逻辑的那个时刻，那些历史的无名者才获得了自我命名的权力，真正的例外才会到来。在《历史哲学论纲》当中，我们看到本雅明以一种犹太教的神秘主义——弥赛亚的降临——来提示我们“革命”发生的偶然时刻。它的无法预知，不可推断成为它自身的前提，只有在这一时刻，只有在打破历史的连续统一体的主观意志和决断行为之下，人们才获得了对造成其处境的历史过程的真正洞察力，才在历史的废墟上看到了历史的星座：“只有人类被解放了，过去的所有一切才能被引用。人类生活过的所有瞬间，在那一天成为能够引用的东西——这一天正是末日审判的日子。”这一真理过程决不可颠倒，即，使革命发生的原因只能被“事后认识”。再次想起柄谷和汪喜欢的那段话：“19 世纪的社会革命不能从过去，而只能从未来汲取自己的诗情。它在破除一切对过去的事物的迷信以前，是不能开始实现自身的任务的。从前的革命需要回忆过去的世界历史事件，为的是向自己隐瞒自己的内容。19 世纪的革命一定要让死者去埋葬他们自己的死者，为的是自己能弄清自己的内容。”本雅明的哲学把马克思对革命的未来性的强调同他的历史观（“人们创造自己的历史，但是他们并不是随心所欲地创造，并不是在他们自己选定的条件下创造，而是在直接碰到的、既定的、从过去成绩下来的条件下创造。”）联系起来，这两者并不如其表面所见的那般相互抵牾。在本雅明对普鲁斯特的阐释中，联系这二者的中介是“记忆”，确切地说是知觉记忆（张旭东翻译成非意愿性记忆）的出其不意的爆发，这种爆发使得外在世界的意义系统不断通过思想记忆来型塑历史的平滑过程受到了阻滞，因而，“（知觉）记忆与历史相反，记忆所回应的总是比实际记录多，它以意料之外的方式突然出现在人们面前”。我们看到汪老师在其最新文章《文化与政治的变奏——战争、革命与“五四”时代的“思想战”》的序论中，便以同样的逻辑，通过主观自觉的中介，解构了固有的保守与激进的二元论。因为新政治的诞生，一定是通过在完全不同的意义上来理解过去而展开其对未来的想象的。在本雅明那里便是所谓过去与未来在现在现在的汇聚，是重复与差异的辩证法。

（待续）

关于曲目：上半场第二叙事曲之后加上了曲目单以及香港都没有的op.27夜曲1&2，返场为练习曲no.4革命和no.12，第一叙事曲，前奏曲op.28,no.15“雨滴”。
关于签名：签名会每个人只能签一张碟，就在带去的六张碟中胡乱选了三张，分别是贝多芬，肖邦和舒曼。走后才意识到签的都是波里尼60岁以后的录音，于是有点后悔没有签那张1975年录的Preludes Op.28。那是我非常喜欢的一张碟，虽然包装没有现在的炫。
关于位置：事实证明，大剧院的独奏会音效确实不佳，我几乎坐在全场最好的位置，仍然感到音色发虚，无法集中。不过综合而言，大剧院看钢琴独奏的最佳位置是池座1-3排的5、7、9号，性价比最高位置是1层楼座1-3排147-153单号。

昨晚去大剧院途中和CX讨论戛纳今年的入围名单，说到娄烨的新片叫做《春风沉醉的晚上》（英文名是Spring Fever），还感慨肯定又是一部很“湿”的电影。可回来以后，想想该如何形容这个夜晚，又似乎只有这一句是恰切的。面对一场无论对演奏者还是观众而言曲目都几乎烂熟于心的音乐会，就算是Pollini这样的大师，要真正让台上台下都彻底沉醉是很难的，比如你在听Op.45和Op.33的时候，如何能不想到Pollini的老师Michelangeli那张ultimate Chopin？更不用说夜曲、大波兰舞曲和第二奏鸣曲了。但是昨晚从葬礼开始，这场音乐会就朝着最好的方向去走，每个人都陷落在重复与即兴的巨大张力中。可是波里尼的即兴，相比与XX和XX（此处略去n字）从来就不是以对一个音或一段旋律的锱铢必较拼接起来的，他的音乐缺乏那种初学者尤其受到强调的“表情性”的东西，用Roland Barthes的划分，就是géno-chant和phéno-chant的区别。

（待续…）

（草稿写于半夜，只待今早给相机充电后上传照片。一早起来却发现Angela的新日志标题也是同一个，真是…（此处亦略去n字）剩下的评论部分，等忙过这几天再续）

Maurizio Pollini, 波利尼, 波里尼

真差一点就去了，最后还是没去。我对韩老师非要去看感到难以理解，韩老师是听着崔健罗大佑成长的，跟我隔着辈儿。所以韩老师觉得这是纪念青春，我觉得是糟践记忆。多年后我们回首往事，必定十分庆幸自己生长在所有美好事物都已经变得可疑的时代。我们自由得一无所有，也没有镣铐让我们失去。

http://www.infzm.com/content/26634

五四运动的法理反思

作者: 张耀杰 2009-04-08 16:02:53 来源:南方周末

经验之贫乏，思维之八股，语言之矫饰…我就不多说了，具体感想见这里。贴一篇王安忆在07年华语传媒大奖上的受奖词，并再度推荐她与张新颖的访谈录。

获奖演说

在我居住的城市上海，某一个街角上，曾经是一家布店；布店关门后作了信用社；信用社过后作了饮食铺。然后，有一段闲置的时间，让人感觉到 它的踌躇，究竟要作什么更好。经过一段等待与思量，我发现它又兴起了土木工程。我每天从那里走过，目睹着它每一天的进度。它用砖墙与板壁重新分割了空间， 用大幅的玻璃镶嵌在临街一面，铺上大理石地坪，用一种鲜艳的漆色油刷了火车座式的桌椅，然后，悬挂了天鹅绒帷幕，垂下观赏植物，植物里藏着烛台式的灯盏 ———这时候，我看出来了，这是一个咖啡馆，仿照上世纪三十年代，殖民时期的欧陆情调，一种假罗可可风格。这华丽的样式坐落在朴素的居家的街角上，有一种 不真实性，好像一台布景。接着，咖啡馆开张了，大玻璃窗里，帘幕与藤叶的装饰下，面对面坐了一对男女，剧情上演了。

就这样，生活在模仿艺术。现实迅速地消耗着虚构。一种虚构产生，立即被现实复制。想象的空间被蚕食、占满，越来越壅塞着现实，当然，是第 二手的现实，于是，想象力受到了挑战。似乎是，为了与艺术化的现实划分界线，我们开始转向更具象的现实，放弃了虚构的权力。令人诧异地，在生活越来越变得 假想的同时，艺术则惊人地写实。不仅是形式上———比如记录片，比如纪实文学，比如原生态唱法，照相式绘画，更重要的是在观念———艺术对现实原则的忠 实，它如此负责地向人们揭示生活是怎么样的，人是怎么样的，人性是怎么样的。现实和艺术作了重新的分工，现实是行为艺术，艺术呢，是生活的复制。这是我们 的处境，就像一个陷阱，生活蹈入虚构，艺术则蹈入现实。所以，我对我自己经常的提醒是：在现实中坚持虚构。

小说是如此像真的艺术，走在陷阱上的独木桥。英国的小说研究者伊恩·P·瓦特先生，在他的著作《小说的兴起》中对我们所写作的小说所以区 别于古代的散文虚构故事的定义为“现实主义”，然后他清醒地指出，“‘现实主义’逐渐被主要用做‘理想主义’的反义词”，而且，“小说的形式常规的缺乏似 乎是为其现实主义必付的代价”。如此这般，现代小说这门艺术在产生之际就携带着它的陷阱。随着小说越来越旺盛的生产，小说艺术也在误会的路径上越走越远。 我们也许一上来就是在井底深处，写作小说就是要从陷阱中挣扎攀爬出来。

说了这么多以后，我方才要感谢评委们给我的这个奖。在得过许多奖之后，我依然，或者说更为高兴这次获奖，很大程度上因为这是在《长恨歌》 之后的获奖。《长恨歌》的经历可对我方才的话作一个有趣的验证———当它在一九九五年问世的时候，遭遇是相当寂寞的，获奖也帮不了它的忙，五年还是六年过 去了，不期然地，得之于上海时尚的知遇之恩，突然引人注目。三十或四十年代的上海想象一夜之间弥散开来，铺天盖地，这个远东城市重新发出“东方巴黎”的蛊 惑，于是，《长恨歌》应时应地用做于一个标本。连我自己都惊异它里面充满了如此多的符号代码，它几乎成了上海的旅游指南。好了，从此它走上了不归路。现实 与小说就是这样粘缠，你不找现实，现实也要找你，而且你终究缠不过它。所有的虚构全在现实中放大，覆盖了本意。因此，在小说这共同的陷阱之中，我又堕入了 我的特定的陷阱，这陷阱的名字就叫“长恨歌”。这是一个极其狭小的陷阱，它将我限制于这样的定位：描写上海。事实上，上海只是我的小说的布景。我在《长恨 歌》中虽然孱弱得无法表现生活应该是怎么样的，但至少我表现了，生活不应该是怎么样的。然而，人们都以为我在说———上海。是这样的。

现在，你们终于注意到了《启蒙时代》，事实上，你们也忽略了一点，那就是，在这之前，《长恨歌》之后，我还写了有四部长篇，《启蒙时代》 是第五部，它十分胆怯地想与你们讨论，生活应该是怎么样的———我以为，这就是艺术的本义，是它不能混淆于现实的特质。无论形式上多么相近，时代又像一个 大搅拌桶一样，将同和不同的物质大加搅拌，但这是永远不会调和的特质，是小说的救赎。

二○○七年度杰出作家http://book.hexun.co

m/2008-04-14/105211230.html

From音乐境界：今年9月，阿巴多来京演出四场，分别是9月21和22日连续两场演奏同一曲目，马勒1和王羽佳的普罗克菲耶夫钢协；9月24和25日再演出两场演奏同一曲目，马勒4和5首吕克特歌曲。（我估计女中音应该还是拉特尔的老婆柯泽娜吧）

这是继罗马、纽约、东京和维也纳后，阿巴多与卢赛恩节日乐团第五次海外演出。和去年在维也纳的演出相比，这次室内乐的部分提前到了五月，但是少了马勒室内乐团的演出。从阵容上看，在维也纳有Grimaud和老搭档Pollini分别合作拉二和贝四钢协（？记不太清了），今年协奏曲部分提携新人，不过柯泽娜还是很值得期待的。在海丁克的马六之后，曾有人说这样的盛景除非阿巴多来北京演出马三，否则几乎很难被超越。07年那个伟大的马三现场，尤其是第六乐章——马勒交响曲里最美的乐章，几乎是不可逾越的高峰，海丁克与CSO的那枚马三也难以媲美。最终这个愿望还是落空了，他们没有选择在海外巡演中更换曲目。阿巴多与LFO的马勒全集DVD目前已出2、3、5、6、7，今年轮到了1和4。相对于2、3、6和千人交响那样的阵容，也许这两个相对编制较小的曲目会让人觉得有些不够过瘾。

Youtube上有人整理了这几年阿巴多与LFO在卢赛恩音乐节上的部分演出视频，没有DVD的可以先过瘾。对我们这些暂时只有笔记本声卡和入门级别耳机的人来说，youtube真是好东西，深深觉得。

自从在大妓院二楼听陈萨的recital被音响郁闷过之后，我就打定主意一定要在好位子上听波里尼。这次大师巡回在中国有香港、上海和北京三站，香港站开票没几天就full house，上海的票价则竟然和海老与CSO的交响音乐会一样贵。北京开票后，经过三天激烈的思想斗争，想到大师已近古稀之年，我又不知将赴何等不毛之地，加上Brendel退休，阿婆多年不搞recital，Pletnev不再公开演出……就在我狠下决心买池座票前几分钟，第一排的几个角度好的座位唰得全没了。而后又强迫症一般地在二排三五七之间模拟画面挑选可能的最佳视角，好不容易又做下决定，鼓捣了几分钟该死的淘宝和支付宝后，又卖光了……无言，只得三排窝着去，希望大师这次还能空运他那台专属Steinway来。想起大二暑假做网页那会儿，为了图片放左边还是右边之类的问题搞通宵…纯属脑子有包。

大师这次在香港和北京的曲目暂定全套肖邦，而在上海则要弹勋伯格、韦伯恩、德彪西和舒曼，以至于许多上海朋友非常失落。不过对我而言，相对于06年从“热情”到李斯特晚期再到勋伯格的安排，今年的曲目显然有些许遗憾。如果有机会听大师在现场弹op.106或者111就好了，而大师近年的录音里，他对晚期舒曼的诠释可以说最受好评，我倒有些羡慕起上海的朋友来了。Pollini虽是肖邦大赛头奖出身，也留下了一些经典录音（比如肖练全集），他对浪漫派，尤其是肖邦的诠释却一直颇受争议。而且相比于他70年代录音里青春洋溢的精确凌厉，大师近些年的肖邦（不光是肖邦）录音则显得越发厚重，内省。不过，在二十世纪现代派作品的领域，波里尼应该算是公认的最佳诠释者之一了，我听到的第一张他的唱片也是收入了彼得鲁什卡的那张著名的二十世纪音乐专辑。波里尼的父亲是著名的建筑师，意大利现代派建筑的先驱之一，舅舅则是现代风格的重要雕塑家。生长在这样的家庭里，也难怪波里尼的演奏会以对作品结构的清晰把握而著称。他对当代音乐的推广也是不遗余力的。06年在北京的debut，他用勋伯格三首练习曲和六首小品开场，搞得当时坐在一排的一对父女睡到打鼾。这次在上海的曲目则延续了这种思路。当然最幸福的还得是小日本，大师要在三得利连演两场。02年Pollini在日本演奏了op.28，24首前奏曲，这样的all-chopin似乎更令人垂涎。值得注意的是明年是肖邦诞辰200周年，想必又会有大量纪念音乐会，不知明年的北京会不会出现Zimerman（Pollini这次在日本演出的前两天就是Zimerman的独奏会）或者Kissin（这家伙三月在香港和台北演出却不来大陆）的身影？只怕那时，我已不知身在何处了。

进入夏天之前的北京有数场吸引人的音乐会，包括老牌的德累斯顿和匹兹堡，西贝柳斯老家的拉蒂交响乐团，维也纳爱乐和柏林爱乐八位成员的重奏音乐会，以及来给9月阿巴多与LFO到访打前哨的LFO独奏家室内音乐会和著名的Sabine Meyer的单簧管三重奏。祖克曼的独奏会则尚未确定。当然还有6月4号王羽佳的独奏会，今年的Lucerne Festival她要和阿巴多合作普三。我估计我们这一代琴童大概有不少看过王羽佳小时候录的考级示范，10年过去，她现在成了DG的新宠，与郎朗师出同门，成名经历也相似，看DG官网上密集的音乐会行程，显然是要把她当女版郎朗来包装。

大出血买了波里尼的票之后，五月的交响音乐会大概只能听德累斯顿一场，其他独奏和重奏的场次则视票价和当时的ft程度而定…搞不懂为什么今年重头的交响音乐会扎堆演R Strauss的作品，后面的匹兹堡也要演。今年的马勒也特别多，CSO的马六、匹兹堡的马一，下半年阿巴多的马一和马四，莱比锡又马一，去年底Dudamel的第二场也是马一，囧……我想听Shostakovich啊瓦格纳啊Stravinsky啊…然后钢协除了贝多芬和普罗科菲耶夫（这是为什么…）之外能弹点别的么…什么时候才能实现我现场听拉三的愿望…好了我的牢骚发完了，下面请看正文。

波里尼访谈（译文）

Maurizio Pollini, 国家大剧院, 波利尼, 波里尼

上个世纪之交的欧美各社会民主党，及第二国际，占主导地位的主张的确是类似陈明忠先生那样的，认为任何社会的历史发展必然得重演西欧的过去：先是资本主义 的发展、资产阶级革命，然后才谈得上社会主义革命。对于殖民地问题，伯恩斯坦等修正主义者拿着”历史阶段不可逾越”的教条，实质上宣传西方左派不应反对帝 国主义扩张，因为这会消灭落后地区的前资本主义制度，把”未开化民族”带进资本主义，从而为社会主义做好准备。他们主张的是”文明”的殖民地政策。伯恩斯 坦本人尤其大力支持德国进占中国的胶州湾，以”散布文明”。
但是列宁及其同代与之后的追随者认为：在帝国主义统治下的殖民地、半殖民地不可能重复西欧的历史发展，因为帝国主义会扼杀各地民族资产阶级的萌发、扶植出 为帝国主义中心服务的发展模式，将这些地方置于经济上永远的庸属位置。各种前资本主义的落后因素，俄罗斯的沙皇专制、印度的种姓制度、中国摇摇欲坠的满清 王朝及其后的军阀割据、等等，非但不会被帝国主义消灭而取代为西欧北美式的资本主义制度，凡而会被帝国主义者强化巩固并利用来为其资本积累服务。因此，落 后国家的工人、农民应该扛起以前在西欧各国由资产阶级完成的历史任务。
１９４９年的中国革命可说是将这种路线的民族解放运动掀起了高潮，随后各个第三世界国家的反抗运动纷纷举起”打倒三座大山”的旗帜风起云涌地起义，１９７５年越南的统一与独立可说达到最颠峰，之后则一路下滑。
列宁主义的民族解放计划的重点是，由于民族资产阶级的虚弱，革命后的工业化必须主要由国家来推动，列宁称这个阶段为”国家资本主义”，是”没有资本家的资 本主义”，依旧具有资本主义的许多矛盾必须面对。中国大陆１９７８年至今的发展是颠倒的。在没有资本家的社会中，硬生生地创造出了一个资产阶级。１９８０ 年代以来的改革开放有计划地把过去辛苦建立起来的服务于本国需要的民族工业给瓦解掉，而把中国的经济成长重心放在台湾式的加工出口工业，为美、日、欧大企 业提供低工资、高污染的代工，服务于帝国主义垄断资本积累的需求。
陈先生寄望的未来的”知识经济”其实早已实现，而且是当今中国经济之所以依附于美、日、欧的核心问题。在WTO的国际知识产权协议之下，过去以科技教育扶 持民族工业化的作法已经不切实际了。”懂得做”不见得就”可以做”。中国培育再多的技术人才与研发能力，不纳贡给掌握知识产权的外国垄断企业，就是不准 做。２００５年中国科技部副部长批评二十余年来汽车工业与外资合作的”市场换技术”策略完全失败，导致中国汽车市场被外资垄断，就是一个最好的例子。无法 反帝、甚至积极服务于帝国主义垄断资本的发展，怎么能跟”新民主主义”相提并论呢？
到现在，改革开放中，中国政府一手打造的”新兴社会阶层”，即资产阶级，非但可以靠着发家致富受褒扬、入共产党，还可以在中共１７大上坐上主席台。从 ２００４年关于这群人的”第一桶金”哪来的争论被中共高层硬生生地喊停这个事件，清楚地说明了问题：贪污腐败、盗窃国产与集体财产，是当代中国资本主义发 展不可或缺的一部份。
“我们不清楚大陆社会”来回避问题。我不懂的是，如果他们那么强烈地自认为是中国人，怎么三十年来对于中国事都还”不清楚”呢？当他们赞扬中国改革后的经 济成就时，难道看不到这些成就背后劳动人民和自然环境所遭受的对待？或是，他们就跟任何资本主义的拥护者一样，认为这些不公不义是资本主义发展不可避免的 代价。那么，他们在哪个意义上可以称自己为”左派”呢？
至于陈先生提出的”有高度生产力才能实施社会主义”，正是邓小平以来中共领导者一再强调的第二国际教条。这个”先富起来才能革命”的逻辑永远必须面对一个 问题：富到什么程度才算够格可以革命？美国这个国家够富、够强了吧？美国的社会主义革命，除了在一些宗派的小册子上，至今可看得出一丝端倪？

文化大革命的意义

左派，毛派，文革，统独，马克思主义

Music Playlist at MixPod.com

下個星期去英國
詞 陳綺貞 曲 陳綺貞

你收了行李下個星期要去英國，
遙遠的故事記得帶回來給我，
我知道我想要，卻又不敢對你說，
因為我已改變太多。

你改了一個名字也準備換工作，
你開始了新的戀情有一些困惑，
我知道你想要，卻又不敢對我說，
因為你已改變太多。

你寫了好幾首屬於你的歌，
這樣的歌隱藏了太多苦澀，
我知道你想要
卻又不敢對我說，
因為我曾是你，我曾是你，
無話不說的朋友。

因為，我們改變太多。

12/12 update: 为再见一次杜达梅尔缺席了我偶像的宴席，还献上了我在北京的首次演出斗牛经验……虽然明显缺乏斗争技巧，终于还是在VIP席享受了一晚。马一结束后，侧前方的吴祖强老爷子也high得不行。引用中紫灰的话：“杜达梅尔是一个只听一次现场就会爱上的音乐家，是一个只看着背影就会爱上的人。”再补充一句，杜达梅尔是会让你相信下一秒任何事都有可能发生的音乐家，而你必须在现场。

听说今晚，汪先生在民族大学讲他访问委内瑞拉和尼泊尔的感想。我没有去听，而是又去了那个权力与资本沆壑一气的鸟蛋。但有趣的是今晚鸟蛋的主角们正来自委内瑞拉，并且毫不夸张地说，他们都是“社会主义实践”的产物。

这场演出的卖点毫无疑问是指挥界的超级新星杜达梅尔。有了郎朗的前车之鉴，在山呼海啸般的吹捧下，我还是对杜达梅尔的神奇心存狐疑。选择来看这场演出，恰恰更多的是出于对这支顶着西蒙玻利瓦尔（委内瑞拉的切格瓦拉）名号的特殊乐团的好奇。

开场奏国歌

矮小腼腆的杜达梅尔一入场便带着他庞大的子弟兵队伍奏起义勇军进行曲，从那一刻起，我就知道这将是多么疯狂的一个夜晚。奏毕两国国歌，我旁边两位刚刚还在讨论查韦斯要修宪的年轻男士叹道：比咱帝国的乐团奏得好多了啊！第三世界人民真是太伟大了。你知道，这不是一个反讽的语气。

作为一个段数极低的乐迷，我写不出柴5的版本比较，也写不出这样正经的音乐会评论，我只能说，在这样萎靡的时势下能够听到这样一群年轻人的现场是极大的幸运，它无关技术，也无关表面的情绪。它是全然身体性的，却不等同于姿势。杜达梅尔的个人神话溶解在了他和他的兄弟们共同制造的滚烫的音场里。在他们那儿，音乐不是安慰剂，不是中产阶级学做中产阶级的的品味游戏，更不是可以被供奉起来的绝对之物。音乐是具体地活着的方式——对这群在贫穷与危险中长大的年轻人来说，他们在音乐里获得了潜能，想象力以及为人的尊严。而这一切，恰恰是随着这座建筑的诞生而被埋葬的东西。这真是一个绝大的讽刺。八十年代以来，无数的中国儿童从幼年开始学习乐器。十几年后，从郎朗到王羽佳到牛牛，从王晓东到李传韵，一个又一个琴童神话被缔造出来，音乐教育却逐渐变成了品味（素质？）教育和个人投资学。

PS，从现场归来，还沉浸在现场的疯狂中，却看到豆瓣上某“好友”——大概是某杂志的音乐编辑，在音乐会前写了这么一段：“Dudamel酒窝很深，还谦虚。但他说玻利瓦尔乐团的孩子们‘坐在那儿不是在弹奏，而是要生活下去’。这怎么听都觉得是音乐功利论啊”。唉，我真想痛快的骂一句：放你的狗屁！

委内瑞拉青年与儿童管弦乐团国家基金会

“音乐救助体系”

委内瑞拉身为发展中的南美国家，整体经济状况还不是很发达，75%的人们还生活非常贫困。但在那里，却到处都可以听到孩子们演奏欧洲古典音乐的声音。每天，这些孩子都会拿起他们手中的乐器，满怀热情地奔向各个社区或乡镇乐团，用音乐战胜现实生活的残酷。正是从这些孩子中间，走出了世界著名青年指挥家古斯塔沃·杜达梅尔，走出了西蒙·玻利瓦尔国家青年管弦乐团。但由这些毫无任何古典音乐传统与背景的年轻人所组成的乐团为何能成为世界瞩目的焦点呢？这一切都要归功于委内瑞拉政府实施的一项文化教育政策。

自20世纪七十年代，委内瑞拉政府在一些音乐家的倡议下，成立了一个名为委内瑞拉青年与儿童管弦乐团国家基金会（FESOJIV），并启动了一个针对贫民阶层的社会音乐教育项目——音乐救助体系（El system）。该机构所救助的孩子大多来自贫困的社会底层，或是被社会慈善机构收留的孤儿，基金会不仅为他们提供衣食，还将他们组织起来学习音乐。来到这里的每一个孩子都可以免费得到一件乐器，并从一开始就和其他孩子共同在乐队中磨练。

音乐救助体系的创始人何塞·安东尼奥·阿布莱乌博士不仅是委内瑞拉最具知名度的指挥家、教授，也是当地音乐界极具影响力的灵魂人物，他始终将音乐事业当作推进委内瑞拉社会变革的动力。阿布莱乌博士用自己的基金会发起了音乐救助体系运动，他希望通过免费的音乐训练来帮助数以千计的孩子远离犯罪：“孩子们来我这里学音乐，并非一定要成为职业的音乐家，他也许会成为一名医生，或学习法律，或教授文学。重要的是，音乐能够为一个孩子带来精神上的富足，能够帮助他抵抗物质上的贫穷。我更想让他们从音乐中得到快乐与希望，而不是仅仅学会如何去演奏乐器。在我看来，只有这种收获才是永远不可磨灭的东西，并必将影响孩子们的一生。毫无疑问，音乐实际上是改变整个社会的一种媒介，而这是委内瑞拉正在发生的事实”

委内瑞拉音乐救助体系自创立至今，已经运行了32年，成千上万的孩子在这里接受训练，无论男孩女孩，无论住在哪里，种族、年龄、宗教……都不成问题，音乐将他们联系在一起。这里的每一个孩子都曾被告知：“这是给你的乐器，你不用付钱，努力能战胜一切！”这里的每一个孩子都明白，从事音乐专业并不是最重要的，重要的是学会友谊和分享的道理。

目前，这个基金会下属有90多个儿童管弦乐团（7-16岁）、130余个青年交响乐团（16-20岁），以及30多个职业成人交响乐团，基金会聘请了 1，5000名音乐教师，为青少年乐团组织音乐会，举办多种器乐训练课程以提高他们的音乐水平，同时还提供乐器制作、艺术管理和新媒体等培训课程。30多年来，大约已有80万左右学习音乐的孩子从中受益。对于他们来说，加入乐队不仅意味着每天都可以正规的学习音乐，还意味着能够了解另一种文化。

杜达梅尔就是从音乐救助体系中走出的第一个国际巨星。他曾说：“音乐挽救了我们，犯罪、毒品、绝望每天就在你身边上演，罪恶离你那么近。是音乐给我们出路，让我们远离这一切！音乐救助体系不仅改变了我们的人生轨迹，也改变了整个委内瑞拉，未来还将有上百万人从这个项目中受益，我确信这一点！到时，委内瑞拉各地都是乐队，乐队就像国旗一样，成为委内瑞拉的象征！”

多年以来委内瑞拉青年与儿童管弦乐团国家基金会为数以万计的贫困青少年改变生活状况所付出的努力赢得了公众的高度赞誉。阿布莱乌博士说：“我相    信‘音乐救助体系’不仅适用于委内瑞拉，同样也适用于其他国家，孩子就是孩子，无论他来自何处。音乐既然能帮助这里的穷孩子，也一定能够帮助其他地方的穷孩子，无论什么文化，无论什么种族，因为每个人都会喜爱音乐。”这种坚定的信念深深的影响了受益于音乐教育项目的每一个人，也正是在这种信念的驱动下，“ 音乐救助体系”不仅为委内瑞拉本国的未来发展奠定了良好的人文基础，而且这种教育模式也开始逐渐向美、英等西方发达国家蔓延。

西蒙·玻利瓦尔青年管弦乐团是基金会教育的最大成果，演奏家都是这项教育计划的受益者。西蒙•玻利瓦尔青年交响乐团是当今世界最为活跃的一支青年乐团，他们精湛的演奏技艺、充满青春活力的音乐风格，受到世人的瞩目。

 
今晚的返场正是《西城故事》中的这首Manbo，今天奏得比这个视频里还要NB，整个爆棚了

这是我今天在嘉美连看两遍《梅兰芳》之后，仍然无法回答的问题。至于为什么连看两遍，也是无法回答。我不会像当初看《色戒》一样直截了当，那是扎扎实实的喜欢。但《梅兰芳》，第一遍的投入，第二遍的审视，都始终无法让我明确“主旋律”的表象之下，突然将我击中的“刺点”为何。

既说不清对《梅》的认同/不认同，就不忙写什么完整的“观后感”。不过有一点可以明确，如果是以对《霸王别姬》之“传奇”的期待来看《梅兰芳》，那必定大失所望。可是从另一个角度，《梅》又像是对《霸王》的回应。《霸王》是人戏不分，是不疯魔不成活，可《梅兰芳》倒处处讲要回到段小楼说的那个凡人的世界。《梅兰芳》里的梅兰芳是被时代推着走的人，不是塑造梅兰芳个人的神话，而是时代就该如此。在这点上，“梅兰芳”与“从一而终”的程蝶衣完全不同。蓄须明志这一段相当沉闷，却恰恰没有把梅兰芳英雄化，反而是一方面拒绝邱如白和“座儿”所钟情于他的“活在戏中”的“不朽”，另一方面又呈现他困于时代的无可奈何：他在乎的是他的干净，是伶人的尊严。而他和孟小冬的恋情也几乎没有在戏里戏外“性别倒错”这一点上做什么文章——不扮妆的梅兰芳和孟小冬演起戏来是会游离戏外的。所以《梅兰芳》写梅兰芳却不写霸王别姬，它在多大意义上“还原”了梅兰芳是另外一回事，重点在于，它可能呈现了一个相当“政治正确”的梅兰芳——从五四到抗日到解放，可是另一方面，这个“完人”梅兰芳恰恰无法被恋物化。

所以，好，对程蝶衣而言，他的被囚禁与他的自由间的界限几乎难以挑明，一切都混在“戏”里。可是如果《梅兰芳》拒绝“戏剧”对“人生”的过度吸蚀，如果它要强调梅如何于时代的“纸枷锁”之下祈望伶人的“个人尊严”，那么，梅和“戏”的关系是什么？所谓中国人的情感和京剧中处处都有的“规矩”的关系是什么？的“输不丢人，怕才丢人”，梅兰芳的怕与不怕，不自由与自由，同样是系于“戏”，但这“戏”却全然不同于程蝶衣与段小楼的“霸王别姬”了。

正是在这个意义上，我看着高大的黎明倒也未见得怀念哥哥的风华绝代，《梅兰芳》的“个性模糊”也许正应了黎明的路数。

附送我喜欢的青年梅兰芳剧照，至于那个上窜下跳比主角还主角得多的孙红雷，真是不提也罢。

http://www.tudou.com/programs/view/tPVTT5sqe68/

很诡异地得到了一张Jane Zhang演唱会580的门票，在首体看台一直坐到两腿发麻。更诡异的是一出首体忽然非常想听张悬，回来在网上搜了芒果跑时期版本的《并不》一直循环，真喜欢那冗长的前奏，听到出神。如果我没记错写这歌的时候她17岁，《海洋热》里生气的样子跟孟克柔如出一辙。

今年底明年初有许多人要出专辑，为什么现在直觉就告诉我张悬的那一张会是最好的呢？

我喜欢她歌里自始至终的阻滞和沉默。然后可以心满意足地去睡个好觉。