Helen Keller
If, by some miracle, I were granted three seeing days, to be followed by a relapse into darkness, I should divide the period into three parts.
The First Day
On the first day, I should want to see the people whose kindness and gentleness and companionship have made my life worth living. First I should like to gaze long upon the face of my dear teacher, Mrs. Anne Sullivan Macy, who came to me when I was a child and opened the outer world to me. I should want not merely to see the outline of her face, so that I could cherish it in my memory, but to study that face and find in it the living evidence of the sympathetic tenderness and patience with which she accomplished the difficult task of my education. I should like to see in her eyes that strength of character, which has enabled her to stand firm in the face of difficulties, and that compassion for all humanity, which she has revealed, to me so often.
I do not know what it is to see into the heart of a friend through that "window of the soul", the eye. I can only "see" through my fingertips the outline of a face. I can detect laughter, sorrow, and many other obvious emotions. I know my friends from the feel of their faces. But I cannot really picture their personalities by touch. I know their personalities, of course, through other means, through the thoughts they express to me, through whatever of their actions are revealed to me. But I am denied that deeper understanding of them which I am sure would come through sight of them, through watching their reactions to various expressed thoughts and circumstances, through noting the immediate and fleeting reactions of their eyes and countenance.
Friends who are near to me I know well, because through the months and years they reveal themselves to me in all their phases; but of casual friends I have only an incomplete impression, an impression gained from a handclasp, from spoken words which I take from their lips with my finger tips, or which they tap into the palm of my hand.
How much easier, how much more satisfying it is for you who can see to grasp quickly the essential qualities of another person by watching the subtleties of expression, the quiver of a muscle, the flutter of a hand. But does it ever occur to you to use your sight to see into the inner nature of a friends or acquaintance? Do not most of you seeing people grasp casually the outward features of a face and let it go at that?
For instance can you describe accurately the faces of five good friends? Some of you can, but many cannot. As an experiment, I have questioned husbands of long standing about the color of their wives' eyes, and often they express embarrassed confusion and admit that they do not know. And, incidentally, it is a chronic complaint of wives that their husbands do not notice new dresses, new hats, and changes in household arrangements.
The eyes of seeing persons soon become accustomed to the routine of their surroundings, and they actually see only the startling and spectacular. But even in viewing the most spectacular sights the eyes are lazy. Court records reveal every day how inaccurately "eyewitnesses" see. A given event will be "seen" in several different ways by as many witnesses. Some see more than others, but few see everything that is within the range of their vision.
Oh, the things that I should see if I had the power of sight for just three days!
The first day would be a busy one. I should call to me all my dear friends and look long into their faces, imprinting upon my mind the outward evidences of the beauty that is within them. I should let my eyes rest, too, on the face of a baby, so that I could catch a vision of the eager, innocent beauty, which precedes the individual's consciousness of the conflicts which life develops.
And I should like to look into the loyal, trusting eyes of my dogs—the grave, canny little Scottie, Darkie, and the stalwart, understanding great Dane, Helga, whose warm, tender, and playful friendships are so comforting to me.
On that busy first day I should also view the small simple things of my home. I want to see the warm colors in the rugs under my feet, the pictures on the walls, the intimate trifles that transform a house into home. My eyes would rest respectfully on the books in raised type which I have read, but they would be more eagerly interested in the printed books which seeing people can read, for during the long night of my life, the books I have read and those which have been read to me have built themselves into a great shining lighthouse, revealing to me the deepest channels of human life and the human spirit.
In the afternoon of that first seeing day, I should take a long walk in the woods and intoxicate my eyes on the beauties of the world of nature trying desperately to absorb in a few hours the vast splendor which is constantly unfolding itself to those who can see. On the way home from my woodland jaunt my path would lie near a farm so that I might see the patient horses ploughing in the field (perhaps I should see only a tractor!). And the serene content of men living close to the soil. And I should pray for the glory of a colorful sunset.
When dusk had fallen, I should experience the double delight of being able to see by artificial light which the genius of man has created to extend the power of his sight when nature decrees darkness.
In the night of that first day of sight, I should not be able to sleep, so full would be my mind of the memories of the day.
The Second Day
The next day—the second day of sight—I should arise with the dawn and see the thrilling miracle by which night is transformed into day. I should behold with awe the magnificent panorama of light with which the sun awakens the sleeping earth.
This day I should devote to a hasty glimpse of the world, past and present. I should want to see the pageant of man's progress, the kaleidoscope of the ages. How can so much be compressed into one day? Through the museums, of course. Often I have visited the New York Museum of Natural History to touch with my hands many of the objects there exhibited, but I have longed to see with my eyes the condensed history of the earth and its inhabitants displayed there—animals and the races of men pictured in their native environment; gigantic carcasses of dinosaurs and mastodons which roamed the earth long before man appeared, with his tiny stature and powerful brain, to conquer the animal kingdom; realistic presentations of the processes of development in animals, in man, and in the implements which man has used to fashion for himself a secure home on this planet; and a thousand and one other aspects of natural history.
I wonder how many readers of this article have viewed this panorama of the face of living things as pictured in that inspiring museum. Many, of course, have not had the opportunity, but I am sure that many who have had the opportunity have not made use of it. There, indeed, is a place to use your eyes. You who can see spend many fruitful days there, but I with my imaginary three days of sight, could only take a hasty glimpse, and pass on.
My next stop would be the Metropolitan Museum of Art, for just as the Museum of Natural History reveals the material aspects of the world, so does the Metropolitan show the myriad facets of the human spirit. Throughout the history of humanity the urge to artistic expression has been almost as powerful as the urge for food, shelter, and procreation. And here, in the vast chambers of the Metropolitan Museum, is unfolded before me the spirit of Egypt, Greece, and Rome, as expressed in their art. I know well through my hands the sculptured gods and goddesses of the ancient Nile-land. I have felt copies of Parthenon friezes, and I have sensed the rhythmic beauty of charging Athenian warriors. Apollos and Venuses and the Winged Victory of Samothrace are friends of my fingertips. The gnarled, bearded features of Homer are dear to me, for he, too, knew blindness.
My hands have lingered upon the living marble of roman sculpture as well as that of later generations. I have passed my hands over a plaster cast of Michelangelo's inspiring and heroic Moses; I have sensed the power of Rodin; I have been awed by the devoted spirit of Gothic wood carvings. These arts which can be touched have meaning for me, but even they were meant to be seen rather than felt, and I can only guess at the beauty which remains hidden from me. I can admire the simple lines of a Greek vase, but its figured decorations are lost to me.
So on this, my second day of sight; I should try to probe into the soul of man through this art. The things I knew through touch I should now see. More splendid still, the whole magnificent world of painting would be opened to me, from the ltalian Primitives, with their serene religious devotion, to the Moderns, with their feverish visions. I should look deep into the canvases of Raphael, Leonardo da Vinci, Titian, Rembrandt. I should want to feast my eyes upon the warm colors of Veronese, study the mysteries of El Greco, and catch a new vision of nature from Corot. Oh, there is so much rich meaning and beauty in the art of the ages for you who have eyes to see!
Upon my short visit to this temple of art, I should not be able to review a fraction of that great world of art which is open to you. I should be able to get only a superficial impression. Artists tell me that for deep and true appreciation of art one must educated the eye. One must learn through experience to weigh the merits of line, of composition, of form and color. If I had eyes, how happily would I embark upon so fascinating a study! Yet I am told that, to many of you who have eyes to see, the world of art is a dark night, unexplored and unilluminated.
It would be with extreme reluctance that I should leave the Metropolitan Museum, which contains the key to beauty—a beauty so neglected. Seeing persons, however, do not need a metropolitan to find this key to beauty. The same key lies waiting in smaller museums, and in books on the shelves of even small libraries. But naturally, in my limited time of imaginary sight, I should choose the place where the key unlocks the greatest treasures in the shortest time.
The evening of my second day of sight I should spend at a theatre or at the movies. Even now I often attend theatrical performances of all sorts, but the action of the play must be spelled into my hand by a companion. But how I should like to see with my own eyes the fascinating figure of Hamlet, or the gusty Falstaff amid colorful Elizabethan trappings! How I should like to follow each movement of the graceful Hamlet, each strut of the hearty Falstaff! And since I could see only one play, I should be confronted by a many-horned dilemma, for there are scores of plays I should want to see. You who have eyes can see any you like. How many of you, I wonder, when you gaze at a play, a movie, or any spectacle, realize and give thanks for the miracle of sight which enables you to enjoy its color, grace, and movement?
?I cannot enjoy the beauty of rhythmic movement except in a sphere restricted to the touch of my hands. I can vision only dimly the grace of a Pavlowa, although I know something of the delight of rhythm, for often I can sense the beat of music as it vibrates through the floor. I can well imagine that cadenced motion must be one of the most pleasing sights in the world. I have been able to gather something of this by tracing with my fingers the lines in sculptured marble; if this static grace can be so lovely, how much more acute must be the thrill of seeing grace in motion.
One of my dearest memories is of the time when Joseph Jefferson allowed me to touch his face and hands as he went through some of the gestures and speeches of his beloved Rip Van Winkle. I was able to catch thus a meager glimpse of the world of drama, and I shall never forget the delight of that moment. But, oh, how much I must miss, and how much pleasure you seeing ones can derive from watching and hearing the interplay of speech and movement in the unfolding of a dramatic performance! If I could see only one play, I should know how to picture in my mind the action of a hundred plays which I have read or had transferred to me through the medium of the manual alphabet.
So, through the evening of my second imaginary day of sight, the great figures of dramatic literature would crowd sleep from my eyes.
The Third Day
The following morning, I should again greet the dawn, anxious to discover new delights, for I am sure that, for those who have eyes which really see, the dawn of each day must be a perpetually new revelation of beauty.
This, according to the terms of my imagined miracle, is to be my third and last day of sight. I shall have no time to waste in regrets or longings; there is too much to see. The first day I devoted to my friends, animate and inanimate. The second revealed to me the history of man and nature. Today I shall spend in the workaday world of the present, amid the haunts of men going about the business of life. And where can one find so many activities and conditions of men as in New York? So the city becomes my destination.
I start from my home in the quiet little suburb of Forest Hills, Long Island. Here, surrounded by green lawns, trees, and flowers, are neat little houses, happy with the voices and movements of wives and children, havens of peaceful rest for men who toil in the city. I drive across the lacy structure of steel which spans the East River, and I get a new and startling vision of the power and ingenuity of the mind of man. Busy boats chug and scurry about the river—racy speedboat, stolid, snorting tugs. If I had long days of sight ahead, I should spend many of them watching the delightful activity upon the river.
I look ahead, and before me rise the fantastic towers of New York, a city that seems to have stepped from the pages of a fairy story. What an awe-inspiring sight, these glittering spires. These vast banks of stone and steel-structures such as the gods might build for themselves! This animated picture is a part of the lives of millions of people every day. How many, I wonder, give it so much as a second glance? Very few, I fear, their eyes are blind to this magnificent sight because it is so familiar to them.
I hurry to the top of one of those gigantic structures, the Empire State Building, for there, a short time ago; I "saw" the city below through the eyes of my secretary. I am anxious to compare my fancy with reality. I am sure I should not be disappointed in the panorama spread out before me, for to me it would be a vision of another world.
Now I begin my rounds of the city. First, I stand at a busy corner, merely looking at people, trying by sight of them to understand something of their lives. I see smiles, and I am happy. I see serious determination, and I am proud, I see suffering, and I am compassionate.
I stroll down Fifth Avenue. I throw my eyes out of focus, so that I see no particular object but only a seething kaleidoscope of colors. I am certain that in the colors of women's dresses moving in a throng must be a gorgeous spectacle of which I should never tire. But perhaps if I had sight I should be like most other women—too interested in styles and the cut of individual dresses to give much attention to the splendor of color in the mass. And I am convinced; too, that I should become an inveterate window shopper, for it must be a delight to the eye to view the myriad articles of beauty on display.
From Fifth Avenue I make a tour of the city—to Park Avenue, to the slums, to factories, to parks where children play. I take a stay-at-home trip abroad by visiting the foreign quarters. Always my eyes are open wide to all the sights of both happiness and misery so that I may probe deep and add to my understanding of how people work and live. My heart is full of the images of people and things. My eye passes lightly over no single trifle; it strives to touch and hold closely each thing its gaze rests upon. Some sights are pleasant, filling the heart with happiness; but some are miserably pathetic. To these latter I do not shut my eyes, for they, too, are part of life. To close the eye on them is to close the heart and mind.
My third day of sight is drawing to an end. Perhaps there are many serious pursuits to which I should devote the few remaining hours, but I am afraid that on the evening of that last day I should again run away to the theater, to a hilariously funny play, so that I might appreciate the overtones of comedy in the human spirit.
At midnight my temporary respite from blindness would cease, and permanent night would close in on me again.Naturally in those three short days I should not have seen all I wanted to see. Only when darkness had again descended upon me should I realize how much I had left unseen. But my mind would be so crowded with glorious memories that I should have little time for regrets. Therefore the touch of every object would bring a glowing memory of how that object looked.
Perhaps this short outline of how I should spend three days of sight does not agree with the program you would set for yourself if you knew that you were about to be stricken blind. I am, however, sure that if you actually faced that fate your eyes would open to things you had never seen before, storing up memories for the long night ahead. You would use your eyes as never before. Everything you saw would become dear to you. Your eyes would touch and embrace every object that came within your range of vision. Then, at last, you would really see, and a new world of beauty would open itself before you.
I who am blind can give one hint to those who see—one admonition to those who would make full use of the gift of sight: Use your eyes as if tomorrow you would be stricken blind. And the same method can be applied to the other senses. Hear the music of voices, the song of a bird, the mighty strains of an orchestra, as if you would be stricken deaf tomorrow. Touch each object you want to touch as if tomorrow your tactile sense would fail. Smell the perfume of flowers, taste with relish each morsel, as if tomorrow you could never smell and taste again. Make the most of every sense: glory in all the facets of pleasure and beauty which the world reveals to you through the several means of contact which nature provides. But of all the senses, I am sure that sight must be the most delightful.
[美]海倫·凱勒
如果因?yàn)槟撤N奇跡,我獲得了能看見東西的三天,隨后又將沉陷于一片黑暗之中,我會將這段時間分為三個部分。
第一天
第一天,我想看到這些人,他們的善良,溫柔和友情使我的生命變得有價(jià)值。首先我想長時間凝視我親愛的老師安妮·薩利文·梅西夫人的臉。當(dāng)我還是一個孩子的時候,她來到我面前,為我打開了外面的世界。我不僅要看她臉部的輪廓,以便能把它珍藏在我的記憶中,而且還要研究這張臉龐,在那里找到富有同情心、溫柔和耐心的生動跡象,她就是以這種溫柔和耐心完成了教育我的艱難任務(wù)。我要看她眼睛里所包含的那種使得她在困難面前堅(jiān)強(qiáng)的性格力量,我要看她經(jīng)常對我流露出來的,那對所有人的同情心。
我無法理解通過“心靈的窗口”——眼睛,看透一個朋友的內(nèi)心是怎么一回事。我只能通過我的指尖“看“到一張面孔的輪廓。我能察覺歡笑、悲傷和其他許多明顯的情感。我是通過觸摸朋友們的臉來認(rèn)識他們的,但我無法憑觸摸確切地描繪出他們的性格。當(dāng)然,我可以通過其他方式了解他們的性格——通過他們對我表達(dá)的思想、他們對我表露的任何動作,但我仍然無法有更深刻的了解。我確信,只有看到他們,觀察他們對各種表達(dá)出來的思想和情況的反應(yīng),注意他們的眼神和臉色在剎那間的變化,才可以深入地了解他們。
我對身邊的朋友非常了解,因?yàn)樗麄兘?jīng)年累月地在我面前表現(xiàn)著自己的各個方面。而對那些偶然相遇的朋友,我只有一個不完全的印象,一種我從以下方式中得到的印象:一次握手,當(dāng)我的指尖觸摸他們的嘴唇感受他們所說的話,或者是他們在我掌心上寫下來。
對你們能看見的人來說,通過觀察對方微妙的面部表情、肌肉的顫抖、手的擺動,就能很快地了解對方所要表達(dá)的意思的實(shí)質(zhì),這是多么容易又多么令人滿足的事情。但是你們曾經(jīng)有過用你們的視覺去看透一個朋友或熟人的內(nèi)在本質(zhì)的時候嗎?你們大多數(shù)人難道不是漫不經(jīng)心地看著每一張臉孔的外部特征而不去深入思考嗎?
舉例來說,你們能精確地描述5個好朋友的面貌嗎?有些人可以,但許多人做不到。我曾做過一個實(shí)驗(yàn),我問那些與妻子相處多年的丈夫們,他們妻子的眼睛是什么顏色。他們常常顯得窘迫含糊,承認(rèn)他們不知道。而且,順便說一句,妻子們也經(jīng)常抱怨,他們的丈夫不注意自己的新衣服、新帽子和家里擺設(shè)的變化。
正常人的眼睛很快就習(xí)慣了他們周圍的東西。他們實(shí)際上僅僅注意到令人吃驚的事和引人注意的壯觀之事,而即使是那些最壯觀的景象,他們的眼睛也是懶洋洋的。法庭記錄每天都透露出“目擊者”看得多么不準(zhǔn)確,一個特定的事件,在不同的人眼中也不盡相同,有些人看得比另一些人要多些,而沒有幾個人能看到在他們的視線范圍內(nèi)的所有事情。
啊,如果我要有哪怕3天的視力,我該看多少事啊!
第一天會是很忙碌的,我要把我所有的親愛的朋友們都叫到我這里來,長久地注視著他們的面容,把體現(xiàn)他們內(nèi)在美的外貌深深地印在我的腦海中。我也會讓我的目光停留在嬰兒的臉上,去捕捉那種渴望生活的天真無邪的美,那種嬰兒在意識到生活的沖突之前的純真與美麗。
而且,我也要看看我的狗們那忠誠、充滿信任的眼睛——那嚴(yán)肅、機(jī)靈的小蘇格蘭狗達(dá)基和那高大健壯、善解人意的大丹麥狗赫爾加,和它們建立的熱誠、細(xì)膩、愉快的友誼讓我很開心。
在這繁忙的第一天,我還要看看我家的那些簡單的小東西。我想看看我腳下的地毯和墻壁上的圖畫的明朗愉快的色彩,那些使這間屋子成為一個家的親切的瑣碎物件。我也要帶著敬重將目光停留在那些我讀過的盲文書籍上,但那些能看見的人所讀的出版物我會更加感興趣,因?yàn)樵谖疑穆L夜里,我讀過的書和別人讀給我聽的書已筑成一座巨大的閃光的燈塔,為我指引了人生及心靈的最深遠(yuǎn)的航道。
在能看見東西的第一天的下午,我要到森林里進(jìn)行一次遠(yuǎn)足,讓我的目光陶醉在大自然的美景之中。在幾個小時中,拼命地吸收對那些能看見的人是司空見慣了的無窮的壯麗景色,在返回家的途中,我要走在農(nóng)莊附近的小路上,以便去看看在田間耕作的馬(或許我只能看到一臺拖拉機(jī))??吹娇磕嗤辽畹娜藗兡菢影苍敽蜐M足,我將為艷麗的落日光輝而祈禱。
黃昏降臨時,我將感受到雙倍的喜悅,因?yàn)槟芸吹饺嗽斓墓饷?,這是人類的天才創(chuàng)造出來的,當(dāng)大自然的黑暗降臨之時,讓他們能夠繼續(xù)看得清楚。
在那能看見的第一天晚間,我是不能入睡的,我腦海中充滿了對白天的回憶。
第二天
次日——我能看見東西的第二天——我會隨黎明一道起來,看黑夜變成白晝那激動人心的奇跡,我要懷著肅然敬畏的心情,去看太陽喚醒沉睡的大地那壯觀的景象。
這一天,我要用來匆忙地掃視這個世界,它的往事和正在發(fā)生的一切。我想看人類歷史上的興衰,看世間滄桑。這么多的東西怎么能壓縮在一天之內(nèi)看完呢?當(dāng)然是通過博物館,我已多次去參觀過紐約自然歷史博物館,用手去觸摸那里陳列的許多展品。但我渴望能親眼看到這部濃縮了的地球歷史和陳列在那里的地球上的居民——按照自然環(huán)境描畫出的動物和人類種族;曾在人類出現(xiàn)之前,很早就在地球上漫游的巨大恐龍和乳齒象骨架,人類以小巧的身材和強(qiáng)有力的大腦征服了動物王國;博物館還逼真地展現(xiàn)了動物、人類和人類工具的發(fā)展過程,人類曾用這些工具在這個星球上來建造他們安全的家園;博物館還有其他許許多多的自然歷史方面的東西。
我不知道,有多少這篇文章的讀者看過這個生動的博物館所展示的逼真事物的壯觀景貌。當(dāng)然有許多人沒有機(jī)會,但是我相信,有許多人有機(jī)會卻沒有利用它。那里的確是使用眼睛的好地方,你們能看見東西的人,能在那里度過許多受益匪淺的日子,可是我只有想象的3天能看見的時間,只能是倉促地一瞥,匆匆而過。
我的下一站將是大都會藝術(shù)博物館。像自然歷史博物館展示世界的物質(zhì)方面一樣,大都會藝術(shù)博物館展示了大量的人類精神方面的東西。在貫穿人類歷史的全過程中,人類對藝術(shù)表現(xiàn)的強(qiáng)烈沖動就像對食物、住所和繁衍的迫切需要一樣強(qiáng)烈。而這里,在大都會博物館那寬敞的大廳里,在我們面前展示了通過藝術(shù)形式表達(dá)出來的古埃及、古希臘和古羅馬的精神世界。我通過我的手很好地了解了雕刻上的古代尼羅河土地上的眾神,我摸過巴臺農(nóng)神殿(譯注:巴臺農(nóng)神殿是希臘雅典城內(nèi)的帕拉斯·雅典娜神殿,建于公元前447—前432年間。神殿由大理石筑成,極盡雕飾之巧,是希臘古典建筑的杰出代表作品)中的復(fù)制品,我感覺到了向前沖鋒的雅典武士的勻稱與和諧美。阿波羅、維納斯和有翅膀的薩莫特拉斯勝利女神(譯注:薩莫特拉斯是位于希臘愛琴海東北部的一個島嶼,因公元305年在島上立起一勝利女神大理石雕像,以紀(jì)念馬其頓國王的海戰(zhàn)大捷而著名。因女神雕像展開的雙臂塑成展翅飛翔的姿態(tài),故稱薩莫特拉斯展翅勝利女神像。該雕像現(xiàn)存于巴黎盧浮宮。)都使我愛不釋手。荷馬那長滿胡須、節(jié)瘤眾多的面部雕像使我感到無比親切,因?yàn)樗彩敲と恕?/p>
?我的手在栩栩如生的羅馬大理石雕像以及后世的雕刻上逗留。我的手摸過米開朗其羅(譯注:1475—1564年,著名的佛羅倫薩畫家、雕刻家、建筑師和詩人,意大利文藝復(fù)興盛期的杰出代表人物)的感人的英雄摩西雕塑石雕像;我感覺到羅丹(譯注:1840—1917年,著名的法國雕塑家)的力量;我對哥特對木刻的熱忱精神感到敬畏。這些藝術(shù)作品是供人看而不是摸的,盡管觸摸它們對我有著實(shí)在的意義,所以我只能去猜測那種我看不見的美。我能贊嘆一只古希臘花瓶簡樸的線條,但我卻無法看到上面的圖案裝飾。
所以,在我能看見東西的第二天,我要通過藝術(shù)努力探究人類的靈魂。我會看到那些通過觸摸我了解的東西。更妙的是,整個壯麗的繪畫世界將向我打開,從富有寧靜的宗教色彩的意大利文藝復(fù)興前期作品到帶有狂想風(fēng)格的現(xiàn)代派作品,都展現(xiàn)在我眼前。我要仔細(xì)端詳拉斐爾、達(dá)·芬奇、提香(譯注:1477—1576年,著名的威尼斯畫家)和倫勃朗(譯注:1606—1669年,著名的荷蘭巴洛克畫家,荷蘭油畫派領(lǐng)袖,歐洲藝術(shù)大師)的油畫。我要讓我的眼睛飽享委羅涅塞(譯注:1528—1588年,意大利威尼斯派畫家)那熾烈的色彩,研究艾爾·格里科(譯注:1548—1625年,西班牙畫家)的神秘,從柯羅(譯注:1796—1875年,法國風(fēng)景畫家)的繪畫中重新觀察大自然。?。δ銈冄劬δ芸匆姈|西的人來說,你們竟能欣賞到歷代的藝術(shù)中這么豐富的意味和美。
在我對這座藝術(shù)殿堂的短暫訪問中,我無法評論你們面前的這個偉大的藝術(shù)世界,我只能是獲得一個表面的印象。誠如藝術(shù)家所言,要能真正深刻地鑒賞,就要訓(xùn)練自己的眼力,必須通過經(jīng)驗(yàn)學(xué)會衡量線條、構(gòu)圖、形態(tài)和色彩的價(jià)值。如果我能看見,能從事如此迷人的研究,我會是多么幸福??!但是,有人告訴我,對你們有眼睛可看到東西的許多人來說,藝術(shù)的世界仍是一片黑暗,未曾開發(fā)、探索和難以企及的世界。
要離開大都會藝術(shù)博物館了,我是多么不情愿,那里有開啟美的鑰匙,然而這種美又被忽視了。而能看見的人卻不需要到大都會藝術(shù)博物館去找這把開啟美的鑰匙,這相同的鑰匙在較小的博物館,甚至小圖書館的書架上的書中也能找到。當(dāng)然,在我想象的能看見的有限時間里,我該選擇能在短暫的時間內(nèi)打開最偉大寶庫的鑰匙所在的地方。
在我能看見的第二天晚上,我要在劇院或電影院度過。即使現(xiàn)在,我還是經(jīng)常去看各種戲劇表演,但劇情需要由一個同伴拼寫在我手上。我多么想親眼看到哈姆雷特的迷人形象,或者穿著艷麗多彩的伊麗莎白時代服飾的來往穿梭的福斯泰夫?。ㄗg注:福斯泰夫?yàn)樯勘葋唲≈械囊粋€滑稽喜劇人物,是莎劇《亨利四世王》、《亨利五世王》和《溫莎的風(fēng)流娘兒們》那個劇中的一個胖騎士,愛吹牛自夸,又膽小,但是他足智多謀,心地善良。)我多想注視優(yōu)雅的哈姆雷特的每個動作,熱忱的福斯泰夫的每一個昂首闊步的樣子!因?yàn)槲抑荒芸匆粓鰬?,這使我非常為難,因?yàn)橛袔资繎蛭叶枷肟?。你們有眼能看的人可以看你們喜歡的任何一部戲。我不知道,當(dāng)你們注視著這一部戲、一場電影,或任何奇觀時,你們中間有多少人意識到并感激使你們享受到它的色彩和動作的視覺奇跡呢?
倘若超出我的手能觸摸到的范圍,我便無法享受那節(jié)奏感很強(qiáng)的動作的優(yōu)美。盡管我能體會到節(jié)拍的快感,因?yàn)楫?dāng)音樂震動地板時,我經(jīng)常能感覺到它的節(jié)拍,可是我也只能模糊地想象一下巴甫洛娃(譯注:前蘇聯(lián)的著名的女芭蕾舞演員)的優(yōu)美。我完全能想象到,有節(jié)拍的動作一定是世上最令人悅目的景象之一。我已能用我的手指摸索出大理石雕刻中的線條輪廓從而獲得這樣的一些感受;如果這種靜態(tài)的美都是這么可愛,那么,看見那動態(tài)的美一定會令人更加激動。
我最寶貴的回憶之一是那次約瑟夫·杰斐遜(譯注:1829—1905年,著名的美國演員。他所扮演的最有名的角色是根據(jù)美國作家華盛頓·歐文所創(chuàng)作的人物瑞普·范·溫克爾)表演他心愛的角色瑞普·凡·溫克爾的動作和對白時讓我摸他的臉和手。這樣,我可以獲得對戲劇世界微弱的一瞥,我將永遠(yuǎn)不會忘記那一瞬間的快樂。但是,我多么渴望觀看和傾聽?wèi)騽”硌葸M(jìn)行中對白和動作的相互作用??!而你們看得見的人該能從中得到多少快樂??!如果我能哪怕是只能看一部戲,我都會知道怎樣在我腦海中描繪我通過盲文字母讀到或了解到的100部戲的情節(jié)。
這樣,在我設(shè)想的能看見的第二天的夜晚,戲劇文學(xué)中的人物形象會使我難以入眠。
第三天
接下來這一天的早上,懷著對發(fā)現(xiàn)新的快樂的渴望,我再次迎接黎明,因?yàn)槲掖_信,對那些眼睛能真正看得見的人來說,每個黎明都會展現(xiàn)出無盡的美麗。
按我設(shè)想出現(xiàn)奇跡的期限,這將是我能看見的第三天,也是最后的一天。我不能把時間浪費(fèi)在后悔或渴望中,我要看的東西太多了。第一天我獻(xiàn)給了我的有生命的和無生命的朋友們,第二天向我展示了人類和自然的歷史。今天我將在當(dāng)今的平凡世界里度過,在為生活事務(wù)忙碌的人們常去的地方度過。除了紐約,何處人們還能找到這樣多的活動和紛繁的景象呢?所以,紐約便成了我的去處。
我從我在長島森林山靜靜的小郊區(qū)的家出發(fā),這里,芳草綠樹鮮花環(huán)繞著整潔的小住房,婦女和孩子們歡聲笑語,其樂融融,是城里辛勞的人們安寧的避風(fēng)港。駕車通過那跨越東河的帶花飾的鋼鐵大橋,我驚奇地發(fā)現(xiàn)人腦中巨大的創(chuàng)造力和潛質(zhì)。船只在繁忙的河上鳴叫著來來往往——高速快艇和笨頭笨腦喘著氣的拖船。如果我能看見的日子更長些,我要花更多的時間看看這河上快樂的景象。
放眼望去,面前林立著的紐約的高樓大廈,似乎是從童話故事的篇章中出現(xiàn)的一座城市,多么令人敬畏的景象,這些閃閃發(fā)光的尖塔,這些巨大的石頭與鋼鐵的建筑群,就像眾神為他們自己而建的!這幅生機(jī)蓬勃的圖景是千百萬人每天生活的一部分。我不知道,到底有多少人會對它回頭再多看一眼?只怕寥寥無幾,他們對這輝煌的景象視而不見,因?yàn)檫@對他們太熟悉了。
我匆匆來到這些巨大建筑之一的帝國大廈的頂端,因?yàn)樵谀抢?,不久以前,我通過我的秘書的眼睛“俯視”過這座城市。我渴望把我的想象同現(xiàn)實(shí)作一番比較。我確信,我對展現(xiàn)在我面前的景觀不會失望,因?yàn)樗鼘ξ襾碚f是另一個世界的景象。
現(xiàn)在我開始親歷這座城市。首先,我站在一個熱鬧的角落,僅僅是看著人們,試圖以審視他們來理解他們生活中的某些東西。看到笑容,我感到高興;看到果敢,我感到驕傲;看到苦難,我就同情。
我漫步在第五大道上(譯注:第五大道是紐約曼哈頓區(qū)的最繁華最壯觀的商業(yè)大道,有許多高檔精品商店,洛克菲勒中心就在該大道附近),我的目光沒有焦點(diǎn),我沒有看特別的目標(biāo),只是看那彩色萬花筒般川流不息的人群。我相信那成群女人的服裝顏色一定是一種華麗的奇觀,我會百看不厭的?;蛟S,如果我能看得見,我也會像其他大多數(shù)女人一樣——也對個人服裝的式樣和剪裁很感興趣,而不去注意其色彩。我也相信,我也會成為一個有癮的櫥窗瀏覽者,因?yàn)榭茨顷惲械臒o數(shù)美好的商品一定是賞心悅目之事。
從第五大道起我開始瀏覽這座城市——到公園大道,到貧民窟,到工廠區(qū),到兒童游樂園去。我通過參觀外國居民區(qū)來進(jìn)行一次不出國的國外旅行。我總是睜大眼睛看所有的景象,既看幸福的,也看悲哀的,以便我可以深入探究和加深理解人們是如何工作和生活的。我心中充滿了人和事物的形象,我的眼睛不輕易放過任何一件小事,它力求觸及并緊緊抓住所見的每件事。有些景象是愉快的,讓心里充滿快樂,而有些是悲慘的,對這些事,我并不閉上我的眼睛,因?yàn)檫@也是生活的一部分,閉起雙眼就是關(guān)閉了心靈與思想。
我能看得見的第三天即將結(jié)束了。也許還有許多強(qiáng)烈的愿望我應(yīng)花費(fèi)最后的幾個小時去實(shí)現(xiàn),但是,我怕這最后一天的晚上我又溜到戲院去,去看一部歡快有趣的戲劇以便能欣賞人類精神世界里喜劇的含蓄意義。
午夜,我擺脫盲人苦境的短暫時刻就要結(jié)束了,永恒的黑夜又回到我身上。當(dāng)然,在這短短的3天中,我并沒有看到我想看的所有事情,唯有在黑暗重新降臨在我身上之時,我才意識到我還有多少事情沒有看到。但我的腦海里充滿了這么多美好的記憶,以至我沒有時間去后悔。此后,對每個東西的觸摸都將使我想起那東西看起來是什么樣的。
?也許,這篇簡短的關(guān)于怎樣度過這能看得見的3天的概述,和你們自己在遭致失明的情況下所設(shè)想的不一致。然而,我確信,如果你真的面臨那不幸的命運(yùn),你的目光將會盡量投向你過去從未看見過的事物,為你今后的漫漫長夜保存下回憶,你將以過去從未有過的方式去利用你的眼睛。你所看到的每件事會變得珍貴起來,你的眼睛會觸及并抓住在進(jìn)入你視線范圍之內(nèi)的每件事物。然后,你最終真正地看見了,于是,一個美麗的新世界在你面前展開了。
我,一個盲人,可以給那些能看得見的人一個提示——對想充分利用視力天賦的人的一個忠告:善用你的雙眼吧,就好像你明天就會遭致失明一樣。這同樣的方法也能用于其他的感官上,去聽悅耳的樂聲,鳥兒的鳴唱,樂隊(duì)的強(qiáng)勁旋律,就好像你明天就遭致失聰一樣;去觸摸你想摸的每個物體,就像你明天會失去觸覺一樣;去聞花朵的芳香,津津有味地去嘗美味佳肴,就好像你明天會再也不能聞到、嘗到一樣。充分利用每一個感官,通過自然提供給你的幾種接觸方式,為世界向你顯示的所有愉快而美好的一切而自豪吧。但是,在所有的感覺之中,我相信視覺一定是最令人賞心悅目的。
實(shí)戰(zhàn)提升
Practising & Exercise
導(dǎo)讀
海倫·凱勒(Helen Keller),19世紀(jì)美國盲聾女作家、教育家、慈善家、社會活動家。她自幼因病成為盲聾啞人,但她自強(qiáng)不息,克服巨大的困難讀完了大學(xué)。她一生寫了十幾部作品,同時致力于救助傷殘兒童、保護(hù)婦女權(quán)益和爭取種族平等的社會活動。1964年獲總統(tǒng)自由勛章。她的事跡曾兩次被拍成電影。
《假如給我三天光明》是海倫·凱勒的代表作。她以一個身殘志堅(jiān)的柔弱女子的視角,告誡身體健全的人們應(yīng)該珍惜生命,珍惜造物主賜予的一切。
核心單詞
miracle [?mir?kl] n. 奇跡;奇跡般的人
countenance [?kauntin?ns] n. 面容,臉色;表情
accurately [??kjuritli] adv. 準(zhǔn)確地;精確地
stalwart [?st??lw?t] adj. 健壯的;結(jié)實(shí)的
splendor [?splend?] n. 光輝;壯麗;輝煌
manual [?m?nju?l] adj. 手工的;用手操作的
scurry [?sk??ri] v. 急匆匆地跑;急趕
翻譯
The eyes of seeing persons soon become accustomed to the routine of their surroundings, and they actually see only the startling and spectacular.
Upon my short visit to this temple of art, I should not be able to review a fraction of that great world of art which is open to you.