The Unbearable Lightness of Being | 誠品線上

生命中不能承受之輕

作者 米蘭.昆德拉
出版社 HARPERCOLLINS PUBLISHERS
商品描述 The Unbearable Lightness of Being:《TheUnbearableLightnessofBeing》是捷克作家MilanKundera1984年出版的小說。以『布拉格之春』這一年1968年為背景,故事在一男二女之

內容簡介

內容簡介 ★本書曾在華文世界掀起一股昆德拉熱潮,暢銷逾百萬冊!★全新版書封以昆德拉早期親手繪製的書中小狗「卡列寧」珍貴插畫做設計,並採用200g維納斯麗綺紙,書名燙藍,極具珍藏價值!★改編拍成電影「布拉格的春天」,由影帝丹尼爾戴路易斯、影后茱麗葉畢諾許主演!如果生命的每一秒鐘都得重複無數次,我們就會像耶穌基督釘在十字架上那樣,被釘在永恆之上。在永劫回歸的世界裡,每一個動作都負荷著讓人不能承受的重責大任,但在這片背景布幕上,我們的生命依然可以在它輝煌燦爛的輕盈之中展現出來。可「重」真是殘酷?而「輕」真是美麗?最沉重的負擔壓垮我們,讓我們屈服,把我們壓倒在地。可是在世世代代的愛情詩篇裡,女人渴望的卻是承受男性肉體的重擔。於是,最沉重的負擔同時也是最激越的生命實現的形象。負擔越沉重,我們的生命就越貼近地面,生命就越寫實也越真實。相反的,完全沒有負擔會讓人的存在變得比空氣還輕,會讓人的存在飛博恩閱讀米蘭・昆德拉的B-Side,用幽默眼光看待沈重《玩笑》ft. @StandupBrian |今天讀什麼

商品規格

書名 / The Unbearable Lightness of Being
作者 / 米蘭.昆德拉
簡介 / The Unbearable Lightness of Being:《TheUnbearableLightnessofBeing》是捷克作家MilanKundera1984年出版的小說。以『布拉格之春』這一年1968年為背景,故事在一男二女之
出版社 / HARPERCOLLINS PUBLISHERS
ISBN13 / 9780060932138
ISBN10 / 0060932139
EAN / 9780060932138
誠品26碼 / 2680356501000
頁數 / 320
注音版 /
裝訂 / P:平裝
語言 / 3:英文
級別 / N:無

試閱文字

內文 :

I have been thinking about Tomas for many years. But only in the light of these reflections did I see him clearly. I saw him standing at the window of his flat and looking across the courtyard at the opposite walls, not knowing what to do.


He had first met Tereza about three weeks earlier in a small Czech town. They had spent scarcely an hour together. She had accompanied him to the station and waited with him until he boarded the train. Ten days later she paid him a visit. They made love the day she arrived. That night she came down with a fever and stayed a whole week in his flat with the flu.


He had come to feel an inexplicable love for this all but complete stranger; she seemed a child to him, a child someone had put in a bulrush basket daubed with pitch and sent downstream for Tomas to fetch at the riverbank of his bed.


She stayed with him a week, until she was well again, then went back to her town, some hundred and twenty-five miles from Prague. And then came the time I have just spoken of and see as the key to his life: Standing by the window, he looked out over the courtyard at the walls opposite him and deliberated.


Should he call her back to Prague for good? He feared the responsibility. If he invited her to come, then come she would, and offer him up her life.


Or should he refrain from approaching her? Then she would remain a waitress in a hotel restaurant of a provincial town and he would never see her again.

The idea of the eternal return is a mysterious one, and Nietzsche has often perplexed other philosophers with it: to think that everything recurs as we once experienced it, and that the recurrence itself recurs ad infinitum! What does this mad myth signify?


Putting it negatively, the myth of eternal return states that a life which disappears once and for all, which does not return, is like a shadow, without weight, dead in advance, and whether it was horrible, beautiful, or sublime, its horror, sublimity, and beauty mean nothing. We need take no more note of it than of a war between two African kingdoms in the fourteenth century, a war that altered nothing in the destiny of the world, even if a hundred thousand blacks perished in excruciating torment.


Will the war between two African kingdoms in the fourteenth century itself be altered if it recurs again and again, in eternal return?


It will: it will become a solid mass, permanently protuberant, its inanity irreparable.


If the French Revolution were to recur eternally, French historians would be less proud of Robespierre. But because they .deal with something that will not return, the bloody years of the Revolution have turned into mere words, theories, and discussions, have become lighter than feathers, frightening no one. There is an infinite difference between a Robespierre who occurs only once in history and a Robespierre who eternally returns, chopping off French heads.


Let us therefore agree that the idea of eternal return implies a perspective from which things appear other than as we know them: theyappear without the mitigating circumstance of their transitory nature. This mitigating circumstance prevents us from coming to a verdict. For how can we condemn something that is ephemeral, in transit? In the sunset of dissolution, everything is illuminated by the aura of nostalgia, even the guillotine.


Not long ago, I caught myself experiencing a most incredible sensation. Leafing through a book on Hitler, I was touched by some of his portraits: they reminded me of my childhood. I grew up during the war; several members of my family perished in Hitler's concentration camps; but what were their deaths compared with the memories of a lost period in my life, a period that would never return?


This reconciliation with Hitler reveals the profound moral perversity of a world that rests essentially on the nonexistence of return, for in this world everything is pardoned in advance and therefore everything cynically permitted.

If every second of our lives recurs an infinite number of times, we are nailed to eternity as Jesus Christ was nailed to the cross. It is a terrifying prospect. In the world of eternal return the weight of unbearable responsibility lies heavy on every move we make. That is why Nietzsche called the idea of eternal return the heaviest of burdens (das schwerste Gewicht).


If eternal return is the heaviest of burdens, then our lives can stand out against it in all their splendid lightness.


But is heaviness truly deplorable and lightness splendid?


The heaviest of burdens crushes us, we sink beneath it, it pins us to the ground. But in the love poetry of every age, the woman longs to be weighed down by the man's body. The heaviest of burdens is therefore simultaneously an image of life's most intense fulfillment. The heavier the burden, the closer our lives come to the earth, the more real and truthful they become.


Conversely, the absolute absence of a burden causes man to be lighter than air, to soar into the heights, take leave of the earth and his earthly being, and become only half real, his movements as free as they are insignificant.


What then shall we choose? Weight or lightness?


Parmenides posed this very question in the sixth century before Christ. He saw the world divided into pairs of opposites: light/darkness, fineness/coarseness, warmth/cold, being/nonbeing. One half of the opposition he called positive (light, fineness, warmth, being), the other negative. We might find this division into positive and negative poles childishly simple except for one difficulty: which one is positive, weight or lightness?


Parmenides responded: lightness is positive, weight negative.


Was he correct or not? That is the question. The only certainty is: the lightness/weight opposition is the most mysterious, most ambiguous of all.

活動