这种深蓝,对于我,对于每个同龄人来说都应该是不陌生的吧。这蓝色,似乎有分别的眼泪,有前进的荆棘坎坷,有残忍的红灯,有如头脑一样沉重的心情,脆弱得难以扛起寻梦之翅的双肩,将处世圆滑与世故奉承为圭臬的“成熟”抑或是“经验”……有谁能抵挡住灯红酒绿的蓝色深渊?这种色彩,似乎早已成了人世生活的主色调,但眼前的《老人与海》意义更深。老人能捉到大鱼,又被鲨鱼无情的呑噬,这些是不是都埋于这蓝色中呢?读海明威,读桑提亚哥,渴望找到一些提示。
This kind of dark blue, for me, for everyone of the same age, should be no stranger. This blue color seems to have tears of difference, thorns and bumps of progress, red lights of cruelty, a heavy heart like a brain, so fragile that it's hard to shoulder the shoulders of the wings of seeking dreams, and the "maturity" or "experience" that flatters the world's smoothness and sophistication as the standard Who can resist the blue abyss of red and wine? This kind of color seems to have become the main color of life, but the old man and the sea is more meaningful. The old man can catch big fish and be swallowed mercilessly by sharks. Are these all buried in the blue? Read Hemingway, read Santiago, eager to find some hints.
晚上,倚着台灯微弱的光,我一边痛咀着自己的孤独与沉默,开始读这《老人与海》。
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