Friday, August 23, 2013

剛讀完 Marilynne Robinson 的《Gilead》。不能說是很精釆,卻是叫人深深地回味的小說。就好像一個主婦,將人性、罪過、期盼、掙扎、悔疚、寬恕、美善、孤寂、破碎、諒解、活著、信仰、生和死,平實地放在飯桌上。嚐了,吃了,沒有能激發誇張的讚美,卻又滿足了吃飯最基本的要求,從心底裡感受著活著那淡然的愉悅。 


I'm writing this in part to tell you that if you ever wonder what you've done in your life, and everyone does wonder sooner or later, you have been God's grace to me, a miracle, something more than a miracle. You may not remember me very well at all, and it may seem to you to be no great thing to have been the good child of an old man in a shabby little town you will no doubt leave behind...

I supposed you're not prettier than most children. You're just a nice-looking boy, a bit slight, well scrubbed and well mannered. All that is fine, but it's your existence I love you for, mainly. Existence seems to me now the most remarkable thing that could ever be imagined. I'm about to put on imperishability. In an instant, in the twinkling of an eye. 


小豬B的名字 (ニ)
養豬者言 (四十一)

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