The Face of Rembrant

Having heard Prof.Shankman's poetry reading, I think I gradually come to understand what he meant by "face" in class. But I still don't quite follow him when he talks about the "face-to-face" encounter. What I mean is, I don't see any connection between THE "face" in Rembrant's avant-garde liturgical paintings and THE "face" in the Levinasian philosophy (or ethics).

At any rate, it is reasonable to postulate there IS some connection between the visualized face and the face with an ethical touch, but the arguments are tenuous. I'm not convinced: I cannot find a haven to anchor myself when I try to ponder Rembrant's faces along with Levinas', as is the case when I  fumble for a light switch in the airy relationship between Levinas and Clarissa.

It's hard! —— to milk a cow when she's still in her babyhood. O——Rembrant, Rembrant! Could you tell me something beyond the biblical implications of the "faces" you painted please? I need some inspiration for the connection between the Levinasian filiation and the Confucian filiaity, BUT I MUST clear the ground by straightening out the "face" enigma first! :-(

Divine Afflatus!

The idle talk with Lois last night really gave me new insights into the problem I've been brooding for half a term. Such inspiration!

Little had I thought of what Kant said about the distinction between senses. I mean, I did not even think of the possibility of such a DISTINCTION! It's interesting that when two heads join their nihil ad rem stores together, a miracle should happen! At any rate, we both discovered some New Continents in what we've been working on so far. There must be more surprises if we have good teamwork, I guess.

Aha! Orchid and rose in my dream~I struck gold in the ABSENCE!

The Musing Damsel

I always feel there is some connection among the three... In any case, they are excellent paintings and are irresistibly captivating. I love the fullness of expression on their faces.

Beatrice

                          
不久前偶尔翻到《汪曾祺文集》里最喜欢的一个章节，里面讲到汪老那个年代特有的“跑警报”轶事，以及西南联大校友将女笔友的信札当作漂亮essay悉心收藏的深情，不禁怀念起读书反刍的博客生活来。

读书是一种享受。可当繁忙的琐事侵占了反刍的时间，一切都变得如此索然无味，因为有一种感觉已悄然死去。就像田野里生机盎然的风信子，一旦移居花圃，不得不遵循花匠的安排，使出浑身解数去取悦赏花之人，她的美丽与神秘早已去之一半，汲取天地灵气所得的那股自然风流的韵致也必然消磨殆尽。剩下的只有机械的、感官的美，散发的则是刻意雕琢出来的香气。世间凡事，只要沾上“刻意”二字，必难修成正果。哪怕是无关痛痒的读书看报，也不出这番道理。

新的生活自然繁忙，读书也是每日必不可少的活动，少了反刍与回味，却少了许多的乐趣。当读书成为一种负担，思考成为一种任务，哪里还寻得到“野云閒照水，开书见古人”的兴致呢？我宁愿相信“自然”二字。“清水出芙蓉，天然去雕饰”。也许回归博客，卸下一切心外之物写下的文字，才是真正的思考吧！我想真正的文人，真正的思想者，不应是一袭没有灵魂的、被神秘化的锦袍。如果确是如此，倒不如做一只锦袍上的虱子，毕竟它是实实在在的存在，不是虚无的形式。



The Scream

I think I really need a retreat—seriously—for now and for the 4 years left. I find my self groping through my way alone, challenge and mistrust haunting me like a gaily arrayed poppy garden in full bloom. I have been chainsawed by Eliot's Fisher King and Tiresias. Filomela's shriek mangled my heart... I do not think I am a good Levinas reader (sorry Prof.Shankman). I always slip towards the opposite side of the prism, which makes the poor "Morenu" even harder to comprehend. Every time I struggled with the "face-to-face encounter," I thought of the flower. All her delicacy and sad look saved me from a sense of defeat—or say, a sense of loss. But yolanda is not sad. I know. She is just philosophical about her situation, as with Samson nursing his strength at Gaza, waiting for a stage to fight back. Patience—Everone says to me—and bide your time. So that's it. Do what comes naturally. I will not betray the beautiful sentiments which yolanda shared with me.  Never.

I think I really need a retreat—or a scream!

Yolanda

一生低首紫罗兰：

中国现代著名作家周瘦鹃先生一生酷爱紫罗兰，和紫罗兰结下了不解之缘，这其中与一段浪漫的爱情故事有关。周瘦鹃中学毕业留校任教的时候，偶然遇见一位叫周吟萍的女子，活泼秀美，很是爱慕，与之往来频繁，并谈到嫁娶。然而，周吟萍家庭富足，周瘦鹃则家境贫寒，吟萍父母坚决反对，并将吟萍许配他人。吟萍是一弱女子，没有办法，只有饮泣。她有一个英文名字Violet（紫罗兰），周瘦鹃因对她念念不忘，于是寄情于紫罗兰，案头清供的是紫罗兰花，写文章写信用的是紫罗兰颜色的墨水，并在苏州建造了“紫罗兰庵”，还创办了一个名叫《紫罗兰》的刊物。……

Cannot remember where I read this story. It touched the bottom of my heart though—and I fell for "yolanda" ever since. Of course, I fell for the flower first, as I fell for Indie Pop in high school. A beautifully sad story. When I think about it, I think of Shen Congwen's The Remote Town, where Chatong (茶峒), the small border land brings me the same sentiments as I chew on Zhou Shoujuan's life-time bond yolanda. When things change over time, is there anything—like Shen's Phoenix and Zhou's yolanda—that will secretly govern the rest of my life? 

Walnut Diary

My voice swam across the wide river
That divided the Walnut Room
In half

My eyes were dazed
By the splendid grandeur of the auditorium
Where two heads tilted in pain

A swallowed yawn prolonged the stuffy rain
Loud applause followed
But not deafening