The last class of my old professor’s life had only one student. I was the student. The last class took place once a week in his house, by a window in the study where he could watch a small hibiscus plant shed its pink leaves. The class met on Tuesdays. It began after breakfast. The subject was The Meaning of Life. It was taught from experience. No grades were given, but there were oral exams each week. You were expected to respond to questions, and you were expected to pose questions of your own. You were also required to perform physical tasks now and then, such as lifting the professor’s head to a comfortable spot on the pillow or placing his glasses on the bridge of his nose. Kissing him good-bye earned you extra credit. No books were required, yet many topics were covered, including love, work, community, family, aging, forgiveness, and, finally, death.
我的老教授一生中的最后一门课只有一个学生。我就是那个学生。最后一门课 程每星期在他家里上一次,就在书房的窗前,他在那儿可以看到淡红色的树叶从一 棵小木槿上掉落下来。上课的时间是每个星期二,吃完早餐便开始。课的主题是生 活的意义,这是用他的亲身经历来教授的。不打分数,但每星期都有口试。你得准 备回答问题,还得准备提出自己的问题。你还要不时干一些体力活,比如把教授的 头在枕头上挪动一下,或者把眼镜架到他的鼻梁上。分别时亲吻他能得到额外的 学分。课堂上不需要教材,但涉及的题目很多,包括爱情、工作、社会、家庭、衰 老、谅解,以及最后的话题——死亡。
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