街口的傘蓋櫻

街口的傘蓋櫻

每年初春準時綻放

已經有幾十個年頭了吧

這卻只是我第三個年頭從你的菩提下走過

我永遠無法用我虛弱的文字聖讚你

可我又怎麽能不去聖讚你

你的存在

這件簡單的事情

如果不是愛、奇跡、達摩

又是什麽呢？

我並非不愛你層層叠叠如瀑布般傾瀉的枝條

也並非不愛你樹精臉頰般暈染過的粉紅含蓄

更並非不愛你自信有力伸展開的寬大母親傘

在一瞬間

我沐浴在一種被呵護的意識中

但傘蓋櫻

你真正的價值

在於你的周圍那些從未被過分修飾過的灌木、雜草、不知名的野花、

--遠不如你那麽神奇、被造物主隨手抛出的小奇跡們

以及

倚在你堅實的枝幹旁的那棟百年老房子

剝落的磚墻

失修的屋頂

纏滿手臂粗的藤條的荒廢的老井

和那個偶爾在你的樹影下掃地的屋主老頭

傘蓋櫻

它們纔是你的靈魂

所以

我才可以和你説話

A Closure on Trip 2011

關於去年的出行，我一直知道我還有要寫的東西沒有寫完。現在寫文章，早已拾不回小學生時的那種心態：

“我有一個鉛筆盒，盒蓋上有只小熊和小鹿，在快樂地做遊戲。鉛筆盒裏有兩支鉛筆，一塊橡皮，和我喜歡的偶像的貼紙。有了這個鉛筆盒，我就能更好地學習，它是我學習的好幫手。我非常喜歡我的鉛筆盒。”

其實我小學時的作文沒這麽傻B。真正傻B的話我記得當時只寫過一句，大意是：“紅領巾們做完了好事就離開了。雞冠花在雨中開得更加鮮紅。”當時老師還特別挑出這句話在全班表揚了我，我也以竟然想到了這句話而為榮。多年之後的今天，讀到這句話我還是想吐。還好我沒有照著這個勢態發展下去。


或許等到真正很老的一天，我又會開始像小孩子一樣寫文章：慢條斯理，按部就班，什麽也不需要急，什麽也不需要證明。一切能懂的都懂了之後，就又回到什麽都不懂的狀態。


現在這個年齡，寫點東西無比吃力。瞻前顧後，自己給自己綁了無數鎖鏈，不能政治不正確，也不能政治太正確，不能落了俗套，也不能矯情，不能裝學究寫火星文，顧影自憐或自戀更是“必死”金律。每次幾乎不論寫什麽，都能從一聯繋到十、十到百；從雞毛蒜皮的小事扯到人生觀、世界觀、宇宙觀。可能目前我的思維狀態就好比有無數節點的一張大網，牽一髮而動全身。


那就隨著意識走吧。


“視角”這個問題會伴隨我們一生。每個人的客觀條件在一定程度上決定視角。我是黃皮膚黑頭髮，在黃皮膚黑頭髮的國度出生長大，這賦予了我“默認狀態的視角”。可是在逐漸學會想事情的這些年，我一直成長在白皮膚藍眼睛（or 綠、or紫、or whatever）為主的國度。因此，視角衝突就一直是與我個人相關的一個話題，且有愈演愈烈的趨勢。在多重視角下成長其實是好事，有比較、有對比。只要是淺嘗輒止，每種視角都挺可愛，繼續往下挖，每種都挺面目可憎。越是了解，越是覺得面目可憎。但你永遠抛棄不了它們，因爲都是你基因的一部分。


臺灣也好，日本也罷，都歸類於我的默認視角。它們屬於我最熟悉的文化，但不同的是，它們是這種文化所能達到的某種理想狀態。我在這兩個地方都切身體會到了這種理想狀態。大的先不說，最讓我欣喜的一點是，短促的臺北之行，讓我重拾了對中餐的信心。怎麽可能有人不愛吃中餐—全世界最好吃的東西呢？！是，這種感受我100%理解。不過，除了自己家的菜，我真的越來越不愛吃中餐。戒葷以後，更是不願意吃油膩膩的東西。但是在臺北的幾乎每頓餐飲，都是精致、清淡，甚至體貼的，特別是對素食者的理解和尊重，最讓人難忘。


“吃”是具體有形的，好定義的。喜歡臺灣還有很多難定義的方面，比如説，去龍山寺拜觀世音，看到諸多人在認真做佛事，求到覺得很准的簽（而且果然應驗）；去書屋的感受；在居民區的小巷裏買時下的水果；中正紀念堂看插花展；重慶路上隨處都有的糕餅屋；在朱銘美術館一組組煞有介事排練節目的國中生等等。很難解釋到底是什麽感受，套句俗話，有種令人舒服的“氛圍”。


我其實很能理解初次到臺灣的内地遊客的反應：“沒什麽嘛，還沒我們縣城漂亮。這故宮比紫禁城可小多了。菜太淡了！”諸如此類。一個階段的人說一個階段的話。就好比魚永遠無法讓牛明白在海洋裏呼吸到底是什麽感受。Plato對於Agrigentum這個城市的人曾經說過一句話，幾乎100%適用於當下内地的心態：“these people build as if they were immortal and eat as if they were to die instantly.”  多麽貼切的話啊，沒有比它說得再好的了。翻譯成中文就是“醉生夢死”。


不消說，相較於日本，我對於臺灣有種自然的親近感。這當然也是因爲語言相通這類原因，不過我倒覺得核心因素是因爲華夏文化有種令人舒服的“柔軟中庸的感覺”。如果華夏文化這片土地，有一天能夠剔除掉數千年來冥頑不化的糜爛部分，而保留住這種柔軟和中庸哲學，那就是我心目中的理想狀態了。這也是我喜歡臺灣的最根本的原因。


接下來說說日本。


我自己都感到詫異，回來這麽久，我竟然沒有寫任何關於日本的出行感想。坦白說，我一直覺得寫不出來。這當然不是日本的問題，而完全是我自身的内心狀態的問題。由於一些原因，這幾年是我自省的最爲活躍的一段時間。也因爲這樣，許多事物的意義對我開始產生變化。我到現在仍然認爲，日本在某種意義上，站在亞洲（或者說黃皮膚族裔）的終點綫上；但不同的是，亞洲已經不再站在我的終點綫上，這是我前不久才意識到的。我的“主視角”和“客視角”在發生根本性質的對調。我的視角變了。何時會再變回來，能不能再變回來，我不知道。簡而言之一句話，“I am outgrowing Japan.” 這裡面當然不無傷感（容我矯情一下）。但如果不是這樣，我沒法真正去理解另外的視角。


我就是在這種混沌的内心狀態下初次遊歷了関西。但是不要誤解，我對日本的喜愛難以盡述。我所指的outgrowing跟日常俗世的生活基本無關。飲食、禮節、清潔程度、流行文化、高新科技、精致、認真、以及與生俱來的對於自然、美、哀、以及死亡的領會能力，無論是什麽時候，我都無比欣賞和喜愛，也一定會繼續欣賞和喜愛，並且會因爲它們一次次地返回日本。


可我總是有種“這些還不夠，還缺少一些很關鍵的東西” 的感覺。我的腦子裏殘留著一些讓我思考的剪影，這些剪影和那些佔據了絕大部分的、給我帶來愉悅的印象和畫面相比，當然很少，但因爲我記住了它們，所以我想它們對我一定有某種深層的意義：


我記得一個剛在Brooks Brothers買完衣服的男士，氣宇軒昂地往外走，後面跟出一個店員，像在祭拜自家祖先一樣給這位男士鞠躬道謝；


我記得參觀了一個只展覽骨灰盒的小型展覽；(yes, I went in unknowingly!)


我記得那一個個把地上的lichen和moss都梳理的像寵物的毛髮一般的寺廟林苑；


我記得金閣寺那個氣味異常濃重的洗手間；(I guess they just gave up)


我記得和大阪的一個出租車司機聊天，他説道大阪很不景氣的話題；並且用特別禮貌的語氣跟我說，“你們的行李可真多啊”；我也趕緊點頭哈腰地說，“真不好意思啊”，但還是讓司機大叔幫我把行李扛出了車；


我記得旅館的前臺不允許我在大阪的朋友到我的房間作客；


也記得這位朋友說，工作之後，每年的連休假最長只能休息3天；


或許我在尋找一個“契合的靈魂”（I’m not even sure what that means），誰說文化作爲一個整體不能是靈魂的象徵呢。而談及靈魂，就不得不涉及宗教、mortality、罪、救贖這些讓人不耐煩的、想翻白眼的話題。我在此並不想談及這些繁冗的東西。只是，作爲一個還算熟悉華夏文化的人，我目前的感受是，這片土壤並不適合談論宗教、或許也不太適合談論後面那幾個沉重的課題。而日本呢，其實也並不和宗教話題契合，而且消極和宿命論的成分過重，不太對胃口。我更喜歡奔放大器一些的靈魂。所以，為了尋找答案，或者說尋找讓自己能夠在某種程度上解脫的説法，我主動選擇將主客視角對調了。


Gosh, I am insufferable. But like I said, this is for me, a sort of closure. Let me end this piece of horrific writing with a line that has all but become cliché: “What am I talking about when I talk about traveling?” I am of course, not talking about traveling at all.


(I swear if I see that sentence pattern one more time!!)

秋的遐想

循天道還是循人道，這是最近的思考。

天道與人道，是最近感悟著的概念，但又覺得極難解釋，愈發覺得語言和文字用來解釋世間萬物，是多麽力不從心。就好比我們的語言是analog的，而我們的思維是digital的，語言根本無法勝任解釋思維的艱難任務。

不過，如果用一些不太恰當的比喻的話：狗這種動物，就是循人道的動物；而貓的性格，則較爲循天道。再比如，說句不知深淺的話，中國這個文化，或者說這個國家，就是入人道極深的國家；相比較而言，日本文化的某些方面，有天道的痕跡。

再比如説，佛家的想法，就是循天道的。而基督教之類，則人道痕跡頗濃。

最近重看紅樓夢電視（自然是87版），這故事之偉大，就在於它既入人道極深，但又無處不透著天道的道理。看紅樓夢，到底看的是什麽呢，當然可以看那風花雪月、痴男怨女，當然也可以看那大廈將傾、禮制崩坏，不同的階段看到的是不同的重點。而看紅樓夢，對於當下的我，看的卻是色與空的循環，還有那無一絲污垢的女兒的天真姿態，如姑娘們詩社做詩，寶玉瑞雪求紅梅，湘云酣睡牡丹叢，晴雯撕扇子和抱病補孔雀裘等等，這都是極爲有意思的事情。

Brothers

This film blew me away. I remember when I first saw its poster at the subway station closest to my office, I thought this looked like a good film, not just because of its head-turning, beautiful cast (Toby McGuire, Jake Gyllenhaal, Natalie Portman), but also that the poster exuded something like a powerful undercurrent. There was certainly a pulling force.


Sam Cahill (Toby McGuire) and Grace Cahill (Natalie Portman) are happily married with two lovely daughters, the image of a poster-perfect family. Aside from having a beautiful wife and children, Sam is a strong-willed, responsible marine captain, eager to serve his country, and loves his fellow soldiers. In short, he is the son that makes all parents proud. Along comes “Uncle Tom” (Jake Gyllenhaal), Sam’s younger brother, the black sheep of the Cahills who can’t seem to get his life in order and has a strained relationship with everyone in the family, except his brother Sam, who genuinely cares for him.


The story begins with Sam about to be dispatched again to Afghanistan, and Tom on parole from serving his time in prison for assaulting a woman (I think). At first it took a little bit of getting-used-to to see the three of them taking on the roles of parents and uncle. But they are very convincing, comfortable in their roles.


Something goes terribly wrong in Afghanistan, Sam is assumed killed in action, but is in fact captured by the enemy and imprisoned in a dark cell for months. The family grieves, and all of a sudden, Tom “grows up” and steps up, lending a shoulder and comforting presence to the devastated Grace and the two girls. Just when the long time strained relationship between Tom and Grace seems to take a turn for the better, and a spark of affection materializes between them, Sam is found and rescued, and he comes back.


But he comes back a changed man, a ghost of his former self, scarred for life from physical and mental tortures endured during his captivity. For me, from this point on, the “real” drama begins. And Toby McGuire BLEW ME AWAY with a gripping performance, delivered with such jarring, and sometimes terrifying force. Of course, both Portman and Gyllenhaal are stellar, but it’s McGuire that really makes this film take off. I could hardly believe my eyes how very different he looks after he comes back. His face almost distorted, his gaze unfocused but intense at the same time, his eyes glassy, and his limbs wiry (a sharp contrast to before), and his gait unnatural. All of his physical changes effectively echo a deeply wounded and suffering soul. He becomes unreachable and almost like a shadow, whereas Tom becomes a bit too comfortable assuming the central male role of the family.


The two little girls deserve a special applause! They don’t pale at all, acting alongside McGuire, Gyllenhaal and Portman. The scene of Isabella’s birthday dinner, oh gosh, I was holding my breath throughout that entire scene, just waiting for her to drive Sam over the edge.


The only thing I felt debatable is the ending. It felt too abrupt, almost like the filmmakers cut off the real ending and decided, “ok, we will just end here.” But everything that builds up to that point is just amazing.


The story of “Brothers” is not original; the film is an American remake of a Danish film. The Danish film, from what I’ve heard in filmmakers’ commentary, seems to have a slightly different take, focusing more on the illicit relationship between the Tom character and the Grace character. The American version probably toned it down, shifting the focus to family. But whether this film intended to or not, it does send a powerful anti-war message, what war could do to a man. A film is a wonderful thing when good looks and good acting are aligned.

Match Point

It is interesting watching Match Point right after watching Brideshead Revisited (2009).  In Brideshead Revisited, Charles Ryder (Matthew Goode) reminds me of someone I know, but there is no resemblance whatsoever with that same person upon seeing his performance as Tom Hewitt in Match Point.  This indeed proves Goode is an excellent actor.  But he merely plays a supporting role in Match Point.  It is through him that the real protagonist Chris (Jonathan Rhys Meyers) is introduced to a lifestyle of luxury and comforts, his career and future secured by marriage to the all-too-common (but sweet) Chloe Hewitt.  But of course, this is all too good to be true.

Meyers delivers a satisfactory performance.  Its his solo show, really.  But overall, the film suffers from a rather commonplace plot, IMO.  About half way through, I thought, please let there be a murder, or else it would just be such a boring story.  And I was not disappointed.  I rapped my desk with glee (not decent, I know) when the scene came up where Meyers starts fumbling in his father-in-law's shotgun room.   I can't explain why but I was rooting for him to get away with the whole clumsy murder of Nola -- the victim of every man's lust.  I think its because he's such a mediocre and pathetic person that he deserves to get away with it and live his rather mediocre and pathetic (though rich) life into his ripe old age.  I find no one particularly likable in this film.  The Hewitts strike me as careless, heartless and stupid people, living naively and unintentionally, robbed of sensibilities only those who climbed up from below could understand.  Nola is a hapless tragedy who always has everything to lose, and who just can't seem to cling to something better.  And Tom (Goode) is mostly just in the background, serving as a contrast to Meyers, who has to juggle a dozen things at a time to hang on to his hard earned place.

Meyers is the only interesting character, comparatively speaking.  But he is not the first of his kind and he won't be the last.  He stands to lose everything, just like Nola.  The only difference between him and Nola is that luck seems to be on his side. 

At some point in the film, Meyers confides his problems to a friend, and he talks about his feelings towards the two women, Chloe and Nola, calling one "love" and the other "lust".  There is certainly a lot of lust in the film.  But I didn't find an iota of love, not from Meyers, not from Tom, not from Nola.  There is no genuine affection in this film, only a chockfull of greed, vanity, stupidity and smallish people.  Though Chloe's feeling towards Meyers may be genuine, but she is just too a-dime-a-dozen to be likable, a sweet and simple little thing, having everything and anything she desires only because she has the right papa to secure her happiness.

thermocline

周末的早晨，原本應該起來，卻又睡了個回籠覺，夢見了爺爺和奶奶。我發現我經常在睡回籠覺的時候夢見“重大事件”。這大概就是所謂的托夢類的夢吧。尤其當夢見剛剛離世的人，更會讓人去琢磨夢的意思。

夢中，爺爺擁抱了我。除了我很小的時候，印象中爺爺從沒有擁抱過我，這向來不是中國人表達情感的方式。夢中，奶奶靜靜地站在爺爺身邊看著我，就像兩人還在世的時候那樣，幾十年都靜靜地站在爺爺身邊，或者靜靜地跟著爺爺走路，像個傳統的中國婦女。爺爺擁抱我的時候，臉上全是眼淚。然後，我似乎記得他用在世時慣用的嘹亮乾脆的聲音說了聲“走了！” 就好像再沒有留戀了一樣。

也是，兩位老人，從浙江老家飄洋過海到紐約看我一眼，大概很辛苦，以後可能不會常來了。

我想爺爺最後的那幾個月，心一定非常地疲憊，混亂中就走了。不過，奶奶也沒讓他等太久。這些，我都不太敢去想。

我趴在床上楞了半天神，就起床到附近的公園去跑步了。太陽十分美好。夏天的太陽，九點不到，就已經有點毒辣辣的感覺，但這正是我想要的。我閉上眼睛站在陽光中的大草坪上，遠處是綠茵茵的樹木，有微微的涼風，站了5分鐘，覺得陽氣終于又充滿了身體。跑了30分鐘，覺得我又活過來了。我最喜歡迎著太陽跑步，讓暖暖地陽光曬著臉，那一瞬，我會覺得生活還是美好的。

有一個詞叫thermocline，是湖水的淺水層和深水層的分水嶺，淺水層的水比較溫暖，充滿氧氣；深水層的水十分寒冷，有時會蘊藏著大量二氧化碳。記得以前讀到過這樣的災難，住在湖邊的村莊裏的人，突然全部神秘地死去，牲畜和動物也都沒有半個活口。據説，這是因爲湖的深水層因爲某些原因，突然翻滾上來，釋放出大量二氧化碳，使方圓多少裏都沒有氧氣，所以一時間，村莊就變成人間煉獄。

我信人世間以外的東西，但那對於我來説，就像湖水的深水層。同時，我又那麽地需要太陽，需要綠地，需要樹木，那對於我來説，就是我的氧氣。

我們就像湖，有一個有意識的淺水層，和一個巨大的、潛意識中的深水層，深不見底，不知道隱藏著什麽怪物，可以把我們摧毀的力量。那陰陰的存在，偶爾浮現一次就可以了。所以要隨時提醒著自己，不能讓那深水層翻滾上來啊。

我的祈禱

我不是文科出身，所以文科必讀的那一本本如雷貫耳的巨作，幾乎都沒有讀過。如果誰告訴我，什麽東西是“必讀”，我會本能地起逆反心理，我偏不要去讀它。

但是現在，工作暫時平穩，生活還算閑適，我反而起了“雄心”。按理說，女人到了三十，從所謂的常理講，應該有一堆忙不完的事情，應該有許多新階段要開始啓動，應該為一些她人已有而自己尚無的東西暗自焦慮，尤其是我所熟知的這個文化中的這些女人們，她們當中的不少位，似乎總在為她人忙碌著，為她人奔波操勞著，為她人活著。多麽庸人自擾、疲憊不堪的人生。坦白講，那些事情都引不起我多大的興趣。

我也同樣有很多事情要忙，每天都覺得時間不夠，有無數多的東西想去做，去體驗，因爲我也感覺到了時間的腳步。在書店裏，有時候會看到這樣的書，"50 places you must visit before you die"，或者“你必須擁有的十件奢侈品”，諸如此類。雖然我也希望看遍世界，也希望有幾件珍愛的好東西，不過，如果明天就是世界末日，我最大的遺憾恐怕會是，啊，我竟然還沒有讀過the Iliad, the Odyssey, the Divine Comedy, all the Shakespeare plays, Woolf, Wilde, and all the lovely poetry等等等等，就要去菩薩那裏報道了，這是多麽空虛的人生啊。

所以我永遠覺得時間不夠，永遠覺得自己讀的不夠快，看著這本，盯著那本，還訂著額外的十本，我的書單永遠沒有盡頭。我也傷春悲秋，我也感嘆世事無常，但我從不覺得生活沒有重心，從不覺得心裏空蕩蕩的沒有底。因爲當你在體驗一百個/一千個不同時代的不同的人的喜怒哀樂的人生時，你還有多少剩餘的時間/精力/心情來患得患失，來做作矯情，來就你那點事情發出無盡的哀號呢？

所以，諸神，賜我智慧，賜我幽默，賜我淡泊
是為我的祈禱

~~~

最近的斬獲：BN時不時會送優惠禮券，每當這種時候，都經不住誘惑，挑選決定的過程既充滿喜悅又難以抉擇，最後的勝出者是：

baby raccoons

It was dark outside, and I heard rattling of the feeding bowls, meant for the cats.  I knew the raccoons are here.  Raccoons seem to be surreptitious, nocturnal animals.  They are rotund, and wobble a great deal when whooshing all over the place in my backyard.  They ARE fast, but not as flexible as cats, meaning -- not much of a leaper.

I pulled the curtain apart and peered into the darkness.  I could make out their outlines pretty well.  There were five of them.  The day before yesterday, I saw eight.  New kits have been born this year.  The babies are like little round fur balls, following their mother, huddling over the feeding bowls. 

I don't normally leave food for raccoons, I let them scavenge whatever is left by the cats.  And usually, there is some leftover for them. 

I know how I feel about cats.  They make suitable pets and companions.  But Im not sure how I should feel towards raccoons.  I think they are cute, but they are not easily domesticated.  When I saw the baby kits huddling eagerly over the little scraps of catfood, butting heads, I knew they plucked my heartstring.  But I also know too many of them can become an infestation.

This evokes a long time gnawing dilemma of mine.  Our relationship with animals.  I suppose its become especially relevant to me since the day I decided to quit meat, most types of meat.  Do I have a position on this?  Sure.  Am I entirely happy with where I stand?  Not really, but for now, this will have to do.

I quit meat for a number of reasons, the one I'm most reluctant to mention is that I found it harder and harder to take bites into animals that I would like to pet/caress/hug.  So I stopped eating beef, veal, pork and birds.  I mean, how do we find it in ourselves to exclaim how cute calfs, piglets and lambs are and then serve their pa and ma on our dinner tables? 

But then again, where exactly DO you draw the line between the edible and the pitiable?  Thats why I found it hard to condemn the Japanese for eating dolphins, because what makes people think cows, sheeps, pigs (maybe not so much birds) don't have the same level of sensitivities and intelligence?  Is it really justified for one group to be pointing finger at another? 

So, yes, I'm starving, more or less, the raccoons, and spoiling the cats.  And these are just some of the decisions I have to consciously make.

The passing days, measured in books

If left alone, untouched and unanalyzed, life is a seemingly infinite continuous blur.  Maybe that is the way it should be, because to measure it would be to come to grips with the shocking reality of its finiteness.  Holding the thought in mind, walking into a bookstore could be a frustrating experience, as you become painfully aware that you would never, ever, come to know but a tiny fraction of what is available.  I read at an average speed, meaning that one year translates into no more than the completion of one hundred books.  In fact, if I could manage to finish one hundred books in a year, I consider that no small feat.  What usually happens is I would gather up the steam to "speed read" for a week, and then lose it all and procrasticate in the following two weeks.  But even if one year means finishing one hundred books, and assuming I shall live to a ripe age, meaning giving myself about 60 years for reading, my entire lifespan, not counting the first 30 years of absurdity, would translate into roughly 5000 to 6000 books.  I suppose 5000 books is more than enough to make (or break) a single human being.  It throws into sharp relief what each passing day really means, time in a very tangible sense. 

But the picture is not all dismal.  I suppose when you are anxiously waiting for the return of a loved one from a trip in distant land, you could tell yourself with a bit of relish that "i will see him/her three books later" or "in four more books, she will be back home".  And as you wait, fill the passing days with words, with passages, with the joy, anxiety and longings of others, and know that at the end of their journeys, yours will be more refreshed and complete.

禮和情意？

身邊隨手放置一個本子，就時常會記錄一些莫名其妙的東西下來，所謂腦子裏的意識碎片。今天想到“禮輕情意重”這句老話，從這裡，又想到這句話還可以有三個變化，即“禮重情意輕”，“禮重情意重”，以及“禮輕情意輕”（暈）。

如果用男女交往來解釋這四句差之毫釐，失之千里的話，會是怎樣的呢？

假設的場景是這樣的：男方送女方一個價格是4位數（美元）的名牌包包。For the sake of this tiresome blog，我們就用路易威登吧。


禮輕情意重是原話。男方是個普通小白領/藍領，與同為普通小白領/藍領的女方交往一、二載，情感穩定，女方非虛榮之輩，卻也當男方面感嘆過今春威登新款樣式氣質不俗，背著會是什麽感覺雲雲。言者無心聼者有意，男方看看錢包，看看存摺，眉頭深蹙，躊躇再三，一日下班後，橫著心進了威登旗艦店。傍晚晚飯之後，男方遞上一個威登小紙袋，女方大驚，愣了愣，驚疑不定地拆開了紙袋，是個精致的威登新款皮包的小鑰匙鏈（應該沒有這種東西）！一看標價，也要幾乎3位數。“大的現在買不起，所以咱們先買個小的，過兩年就買得起大的了。”男方訥訥道。該位男方即使後來買得起五位數的愛瑪仕，情義也未必比得上這個鑰匙鏈。是謂禮輕情意重。

禮重情意重。這個好解釋，男女雙方交往/結婚滿十年（二十年/三十年等等皆可），美滿幸福，紀念日當天，男方送上威登真品手袋一個，是謂禮重情意重。

禮輕情意輕。“空氣頭”女方與男方共同燭光晚餐（點的是prix fixe），男方鄭重其事地獻上威登大手袋一個，女方欣喜若狂，知道此男下了血本，當晚兩人共度良宵，數日後女方偶然發現包包的縫處的軋綫不完全吻合（don't ask me what that means），驚疑此包真僞，在論壇上發一貼邀眾名牌達人姐妹共同辨認之，結果數分鐘内就被姐妹識破，是仿貨，連精仿都算不上。是謂禮輕情意輕。


最後，禮重情意輕。女方，絕代佳人（whatever that means），男方，豪門紈絝公子，兩人相識僅數面，只是普通朋友，更別説談情說愛。恰逢女方生日，男方眼睛不眨，大手筆送女方一個當季最貴最炫的威登大手袋，並邀約在頂級法國餐廳共進晚餐，言下之意不言而喻。女方~~~~~~~~是收呢~~~~~~~~~~還是不收呢~~~~~~~~~~，禮重，不表示情意重，這是個吊詭的禮重情意輕的例子。

念珠

那天，如練說她要去山裏尋找念珠。


念珠？蘅皋不解。如練出門前只留下這句話。他對如練的小性情總是不解。


前一天下午，如練[卒瓦]了她的木棉花茶杯。那是個細白瓷帶蓋的茶杯，杯身杯蓋用銀綫勾勒出五片花瓣，兩兩三三立於枝間，染了紅釉。如練每天用那個杯子喝茶，有時是老家村裏的親戚手炒的新茶，有時是非洲的紅茶包，有時是蘅皋煮的綠豆湯。