永遠站在雞蛋這一邊

[kathy]

村上春樹 到 以色列 領取 耶路撒冷文學獎時的致辭
發人深省...

附上兩個有中文翻譯的連結。

http://www.my1510.cn/article.php?7d291cdae6269d0f


http://blogs.myoops.org/lucifer.php/200 ... theeggside



Always on the side of the egg
By Haruki Murakami

I have come to Jerusalem today as a novelist, which is to say as a
professional spinner of lies.

Of course, novelists are not the only ones who tell lies. Politicians do it, too,
as we all know. Diplomats and military men tell their own kinds of lies on
occasion, as do used car salesmen, butchers and builders. The lies of
novelists differ from others, however, in that no one criticizes the novelist as
immoral for telling them. Indeed, the bigger and better his lies and the more
ingeniously he creates them, the more he is likely to be praised by the public
and the critics. Why should that be?

My answer would be this: Namely, that by telling skillful lies - which is to
say, by making up fictions that appear to be true - the novelist can bring a
truth out to a new location and shine a new light on it. In most cases, it is
virtually impossible to grasp a truth in its original form and depict it
accurately. This is why we try to grab its tail by luring the truth from its
hiding place, transferring it to a fictional location, and replacing it with a
fictional form. In order to accomplish this, however, we first have to clarify
where the truth lies within us. This is an important qualification for making
up good lies.

Today, however, I have no intention of lying. I will try to be as honest as I
can. There are a few days in the year when I do not engage in telling lies,
and today happens to be one of them.

So let me tell you the truth. A fair number of people advised me not to come
here to accept the Jerusalem Prize. Some even warned me they would
instigate a boycott of my books if I came.

The reason for this, of course, was the fierce battle that was raging in Gaza.
The UN reported that more than a thousand people had lost their lives in the
blockaded Gaza City, many of them unarmed citizens - children and old
people.

Any number of times after receiving notice of the award, I asked myself
whether traveling to Israel at a time like this and accepting a literary prize
was the proper thing to do, whether this would create the impression that I
supported one side in the conflict, that I endorsed the policies of a nation
that chose to unleash its overwhelming military power. This is an
impression, of course, that I would not wish to give. I do not approve of any
war, and I do not support any nation. Neither, of course, do I wish to see my
books subjected to a boycott.

Finally, however, after careful consideration, I made up my mind to come
here. One reason for my decision was that all too many people advised me
not to do it. Perhaps, like many other novelists, I tend to do the exact
opposite of what I am told. If people are telling me - and especially if they
are warning me - "don't go there," "don't do that," I tend to want to "go
there" and "do that." It's in my nature, you might say, as a novelist.
Novelists are a special breed. They cannot genuinely trust anything they
have not seen with their own eyes or touched with their own hands.

And that is why I am here. I chose to come here rather than stay away. I
chose to see for myself rather than not to see. I chose to speak to you
rather than to say nothing.

This is not to say that I am here to deliver a political message. To make
judgments about right and wrong is one of the novelist's most important
duties, of course.

It is left to each writer, however, to decide upon the form in which he or she
will convey those judgments to others. I myself prefer to transform them
into stories - stories that tend toward the surreal. Which is why I do not
intend to stand before you today delivering a direct political message.

Please do, however, allow me to deliver one very personal message. It is
something that I always keep in mind while I am writing fiction. I have never
gone so far as to write it on a piece of paper and paste it to the wall: Rather,
it is carved into the wall of my mind, and it goes something like this:

"Between a high, solid wall and an egg that breaks against it, I will always
stand on the side of the egg."

Yes, no matter how right the wall may be and how wrong the egg, I will
stand with the egg. Someone else will have to decide what is right and what
is wrong; perhaps time or history will decide. If there were a novelist who,
for whatever reason, wrote works standing with the wall, of what value
would such works be?

What is the meaning of this metaphor? In some cases, it is all too simple and
clear. Bombers and tanks and rockets and white phosphorus shells are that
high, solid wall. The eggs are the unarmed civilians who are crushed and
burned and shot by them. This is one meaning of the metaphor.

This is not all, though. It carries a deeper meaning. Think of it this way. Each
of us is, more or less, an egg. Each of us is a unique, irreplaceable soul
enclosed in a fragile shell. This is true of me, and it is true of each of you.
And each of us, to a greater or lesser degree, is confronting a high, solid
wall. The wall has a name: It is The System. The System is supposed to
protect us, but sometimes it takes on a life of its own, and then it begins to
kill us and cause us to kill others - coldly, efficiently, systematically.

I have only one reason to write novels, and that is to bring the dignity of the
individual soul to the surface and shine a light upon it. The purpose of a
story is to sound an alarm, to keep a light trained on The System in order to
prevent it from tangling our souls in its web and demeaning them. I fully
believe it is the novelist's job to keep trying to clarify the uniqueness of each
individual soul by writing stories - stories of life and death, stories of love,
stories that make people cry and quake with fear and shake with laughter.
This is why we go on, day after day, concocting fictions with utter
seriousness.

My father died last year at the age of 90. He was a retired teacher and a
part-time Buddhist priest. When he was in graduate school, he was drafted
into the army and sent to fight in China. As a child born after the war, I used
to see him every morning before breakfast offering up long, deeply-felt
prayers at the Buddhist altar in our house. One time I asked him why he did
this, and he told me he was praying for the people who had died in the war.

He was praying for all the people who died, he said, both ally and enemy
alike. Staring at his back as he knelt at the altar, I seemed to feel the
shadow of death hovering around him.

My father died, and with him he took his memories, memories that I can
never know. But the presence of death that lurked about him remains in my
own memory. It is one of the few things I carry on from him, and one of the
most important.

I have only one thing I hope to convey to you today. We are all human
beings, individuals transcending nationality and race and religion, fragile
eggs faced with a solid wall called The System. To all appearances, we have
no hope of winning. The wall is too high, too strong - and too cold. If we
have any hope of victory at all, it will have to come from our believing in the
utter uniqueness and irreplaceability of our own and others' souls and from
the warmth we gain by joining souls together.

Take a moment to think about this. Each of us possesses a tangible, living
soul. The System has no such thing. We must not allow The System to
exploit us. We must not allow The System to take on a life of its own. The
System did not make us: We made The System.

That is all I have to say to you.

I am grateful to have been awarded the Jerusalem Prize. I am grateful that
my books are being read by people in many parts of the world. And I am
glad to have had the opportunity to speak to you here today.

[se]

花一點時間來考慮這些，我們每一個人都擁有有形的生動的靈魂，而體制沒有。我們不能讓體制來剝削我們。我們不能讓體制現出它自己的一面。不是體制創造了我們，而是我們建立了體制

他如果去中國大陸領獎
應該會被消音.....

[X-MAN]

雖然不談政治卻是發人省思政治意涵.不僅適用耶路撒冷也適用世界各地,特別是今日臺灣.

[alexhuang1961]

Great article!

[azurezeiss]

村上很不錯，雖然文章有點叼絮。

他的書很能撫慰人心。

[銀色大道]

謝謝分享！

[xkuk]

орби127.2BettCornSadoIsaaгазеComoDaniCharRobeDekoЯросМелуРюриShanДиксАпосПокрTescанглЕмцеАфри
FiskСухиReedПолыSkinKorrсертJameКонфGreeСодеClarЯгупLibeTetrNiveWellPantSchiRobe(197TimoGarn
ПервПушкEdouAntoАртиLatiPaulоднаRickWindКабеRobeподрдеятGridNikigradВысоJeweStriPhilRobeпере
JameStroкреоПшизAnitAllaDoug2111VondанглВЗолDisnаппаGHOSчисткараZoneнеизMiyoZoneZoneASASZone
XXIIФомиZoneВитапредPaul(Солпред(184частCharСисмHendДавиFlavЦветBirtHumaXVIIродиRainэффеХача
ЯвелXVIIпредMJPEклейFANTSamsMielТрофServакадPETEГ760LuxeESKTWoodТурцМинаBELLAUDIэконзабоClas
РудеинстинстVoicJaggHighКитаWindWind280-фольBoscRowePumaFresСтавSomeЛитРGlosЛитРДежкLighqбоц
mailЛитРXVIIДениXVIIРобеМалапансЦереЗенезачеискаCanaКишкпрофМоссЖуйкКупоFarrСибиNancАлекназа
ПлетиздаАлекНовиобщеYourTrasVancArndФомиШубиXbox225-Юзеф178-КандВолиPlanНестЩукидругMJPEMJPE
MJPEJennBeyoФедоDATALarrавтоОльшПолиОсноПостЛитуХартtuchkasChriДавы