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孙康宜:纪念布鲁姆(1930-2019)| 中英版

孙康宜 地球是透明的 2022-09-11

Harold Bloom (July 11. 1930-Oct. 14. 2019)


pictures from Yale Daily News.

“He taught his last class at Yale on Oct 10, only a few days ago.” 

(图片由孙康宜教授拍摄提供。)



The Literary Conviction of Harold Bloom (1930-2019)

Kang-i Sun Chang (孫康宜)

Translated by Victoria Sancilio


In the autumn of 1982, I began to teach at Yale. Not long after, I met Professor Harold Bloom. At the time, I had already read much of Bloom’s work; his vision in the sphere of criticism was broad, and I deeply admired the passion he threw into literary analysis. In my view, what he represents exactly is the spirit of the early American poet Walt Whitman, at once calm and bold. 

Bloom began teaching at Yale in 1955, when he was only 25 years old. When I arrived at Yale, he was already a famous professor, a giant of the academic world, but despite his status he was always accessible, being especially genial toward young people. Thus, though we did not encounter each other often after our first chance meeting, we still had contact through our teaching and scholarship in the years since, and from our relationship as colleagues we developed a professional friendship. Every year at the beginning of the new academic term, I would always encourage my classical Chinese poetry students to audit his class on American poetry. 

One year, Bloom suddenly fell very ill, ill enough that he was forced to cancel his classes. When I heard the news, I was very worried. He later recovered and began holding classes again. I thought I ought to find the time to go see him at his home, but I was also afraid I would disturb his convalescence, and for this reason I was afraid to call him. While I was still vacillating, I received a letter from an editor in China, Ling Yue, asking me to interview Professor Bloom. Ling Yue had specially prepared a few questions, hoping I might represent him and speak with Bloom directly. 

So I arranged to meet Bloom at his house one day. Ringing the bell, I was met by Bloom’s wife Jeanne, who opened the door for me with a smile. A minute later Bloom emerged slowly from within the house. I discovered he was not only wearing a suit, he had put on a tie. At this meeting, he seemed very thin, but his gaze was as bright and sharp as ever. 


“Ah, you are so punctual, just as I imagined. Come, come, come, please sit here.” In a courtly gesture, Bloom helped me remove my coat, then walked slowly into the living room, pointing to the sofa in front of the window. He gently gave me a friendly kiss on the forehead. 

“Professor Bloom, long time no see! You look like you are in good health.” I sat down happily and began taking out my recorder and camera. “Sorry, I appear a bit like a reporter today.” I squinted and began talking.

“Don’t call me Professor Bloom anymore, or else I will have to call you Professor Kang-I Sun Chang. So troublesome. Let us agree that you will call me Harold, and I will call you Kang-i. That’s right, let us first see if the recorder works.”

At that moment, as though unable to help himself, he began to recite the verses of American poet Hart Crane. His gaze went out the window, his voice sonorous, the rhythm steady. In his eyes, I saw a kind of warm light. I looked at him intently, feeling as though I too had entered another world. 

A few seconds later, I broke him off. “Okay, Harold, I think the recorder works. Let’s begin our formal interview. Today I would like to divide the topics into two; the first is three questions sent by the editor, Mr. Ling Yue, and the others are questions I myself would like to ask you. The first three questions must be asked, but my questions are secondary and will depend on timing and circumstance.”

“Of course, of course.” He nodded in agreement. 

The first question Ling Yue wishes to ask you is this: due to the delay in translations, the American poets that ordinary Chinese readers are best acquainted with are from the generation of Allen Ginsberg and John Ashbery. Could you please recommend a few American poets of the younger generation that are worthy of reading?”

“First of all, what I would like to say is that while Ashbery is indeed a first rate poet, I must say that, frankly speaking, Ginsburg cannot be called a poet though he is my old friend. With regards to a younger generation of poets writing in English, I recommend two. The first is the Canadian poet Anne Carson, who is around fifty-two years old. She is an exceptional writer; her poetic style is strong and powerful, unrestrained and original. Her work is rather like that of the nineteenth century poets Emily Bronte and Emily Dickinson. Another poet, an American, Henri Cole, is also exceptional. I think he is the finest American poet writing right now. His poetic style is powerfully appealing and has an extreme formal beauty, a kind of classical sense. He has already produced five volumes of poetry, including his most recent, Middle Earth. His two most famous works, The Look of Things and The Visible Man, are both deeply affecting works. The title of the former comes from a verse by the American poet Wallace Stevens, and the latter from a poem of Hart Crane. Crane is about 46 this year. I think that of this younger generation of poets, these two are the finest. As for even younger writers, it is more difficult to evaluate because there are so many.”

“Thank you for your response. I am certain that Chinese readers will definitely begin reading the works of Anne Carson and Henry Cole on your recommendation.” I paused for a moment, then said, “The second question that Ling Yue wants to ask is, ‘Your outlook differs greatly from the New Criticism. Can you discuss your views on New Criticism or all modern criticism in general?’ Ling Yue primarily wants to know your more nuanced views on this matter.”

“Ah, I am afraid that to discuss this question I must begin with my teaching career. As of next year, I will have been at Yale for fifty years. In these fifty long years, I have fought four great battles in succession to defend my views on literature. The first great battle was against the New Criticism. At the time, I was only a young professor, and yet I boldly critiqued the great generals of the new criticism so popular at the time, including older professors at Yale, such as Cleanth Brooks, W. K. Wimsatt, and Robert Penn Warren. Of course, Professor Warren eventually became my good friend, but that happened much later. The reason I opposed them was that because they destroyed the great traditions of English poetry—that is to say, the tradition that began with Geoffrey Chaucer, Shakespeare, Edmund Spencer, John Milton, William Blake, William Wordsworth, Percy Bysshe Shelley, John Keats, Robert Browning, Alfred, Lord Tennyson, and onwards. In addition, I discovered that the New Criticism was also attempting to take down classic early American writers such as Whitman, Dickinson, and Emerson. So in those years, I dedicated myself entirely to the work of promoting the traditional and the classical, and I think my work has been very effective; at least most of the literary classics have already regained the position that they deserve. Of course, these classics also include some exceptional writers of the twentieth century, including such writers as Wallace Stevens, Hart Crane, William Butler Yeats, and D. H. Lawrence. You know, I essentially oppose the critical theory of T. S. Eliot, Ezra Pound, and William Carlos Williams, though they are all exceptional poets individually. Later, after I finished battling the New Criticism, I found myself on a new battlefield, which was the battle of against deconstructionism. Actually, that was a battle against the French Invasion. In that battle, many of my targets were friends and colleagues—such as Paul de Man, Jacques Derrida, and J. Hillis Miller. One of the major points of contention was the problem regarding the interpretation of “meaning,” which is to say, the question of “how poetry can mean anything.” Deconstructionists believed that the meaning of poetry was indeterminate, because language in itself cannot be fathomed. But I did not agree; I believe that language in itself cannot take on the role of thinking for us. I believed that philosopher Martin Heidegger could not explain the meaning of poetry, but Shakespeare could, because Shakespeare had pointed out the true meaning of poetry in his plays. In short, after fighting this tremendous battle of deconstructionism, I found myself around within a third battle, one that is seemingly unending. To this day, the aftershocks are still commonly felt on American campuses. Originally, it was a counter-culture trend that emerged in 1967 at the University of California at Berkeley. Since then, America’s popular culture and academia alike have lost the principle of aestheticism, and have become increasingly controlled by considerations such as race, sex, and sexual orientation. I once called this counter-culture trend the “School of Resentment,” because those belonging to it were filled with rage and had lost all sense of respect for aestheticism. Truly, after fighting all these battles I was exhausted. But I did not anticipate that not long ago, I would unconsciously enter a fourth battle. In my view, the most frightening thing that has appeared in the English speaking world and western culture at large is Harry Potter; people actually blindly allowed these books to take the place of real children’s literature. In my view, this is  a literary trend that ought to make people feel ashamed and stupid. Thus I entered this cultural debate; for example, in both the New York Times and the Los Angeles Times I strongly attacked this kind of Harry Potter literature, and moreover I will continue to fight it. In addition, the National Book Award was actually given to bestseller Stephen King. Stephen King is a third rate writer who absolutely does not understand aesthetics, and nor does he understand the ultimate value of epistemology in life. He completely follows the masses, which I feel cannot be remedied. Someone once called me an antithetical critic, and I think there is some truth in that. I am precisely this kind of critic, so no one wants to invite me to join their society and clubs.” 

“Then Harold, who is your ideal critic?” I took the chance to interrupt him. 

“Oh, in Western criticism, my heroes are Samuel Johnson, John Ruskin, Walter Pater, Oscar Wilde, Kenneth Burke, Northrop Frye, William Empson, and my good friend George Wilson (who died in 1985.) In sum, my view has always been that poetry cannot be politicized.” When he said this, his expression grew somber. I could tell that he was experiencing worry over the direction of Anglo-American popular culture. 

Next, I asked him, “I never thought you would admire the literary critic Empson. Wasn’t Empson a member of the New Critics you so dislike?”

“Oh, though Empson is classified as a New Critic, his literary views are far superior to Wimsatt. I really respected Empson because he essentially respected traditional culture. The only thing I don’t understand is that he later became a Maoist and actually enjoyed Mao Zedong’s poetry.”

I know that the Chinese have always enjoyed Empson, mainly because he once lived in China, and taught in China for many years, and thus had a deep connection with the Chinese people.” 

Just like that, our interview turned naturally toward Chinese culture. Bloom told me that he had always greatly admired Chinese culture; while studying at Cornell, he had taken classes in the Chinese language for two years. He said that he had read such classics as the Shi Jing (Book of Odes), Chu Ci (Songs of Chu), Li Bai, and Du Fu in translation, and knew that ancient China had produced poets as great as Dante. He had also read many books on Confucianism, Daoism, and Buddhism, and had always envied the long and mature cultural tradition of China. He believed that in the West, apart from Socrates, there was not another who was comparable to Confucius in cultural stature. He also told me that his best friend of many years at Yale was the renowned Chinese historian Jonathan Spence, and that Spence’s wife Dr. Jin Annping (also on the Yale faculty) was just beginning a new book about Confucius. He was happy about this, because it was necessary to continue classical Chinese culture. 

“If you truly admire traditional Chinese culture, why did you not recommend a single Chinese writer in your recently published Genius?” I could not help asking. “Since you accepted Tale of the Genji by the Japanese writer Murasaki Shikibu, why did you not include Cao Xueqin’s Dream of the Red Chamber?

As soon as he heard the question, Bloom immediately responded, “Ah, what can I say? It is truly because I do not know enough about Chinese literature and did not want to talk about it too casually. The Chinese tradition goes back so far and is so complicated, I did not have the capacity to fully study it. Unless I could go live in China for a year or two, I absolutely cannot truly understand Chinese culture. But I am already over seventy, and my health is not good. I am afraid I won’t make it to China in this lifetime. On the other hand, the Tale of the Genji has existed in the English world for a long time. I started reading the abridged translation by Arthur Waley when I was very young, and then later read the complete translation by Seidensticker. In addition, to a Western reader, this book is easy to understand. So naturally I included it in my book.”

The Anatomy of Influence Literature as a Way of Life


I checked my watch at this moment and discovered that we were running low on time; we only had thirty minutes until the end of the interview. I decided we could not stray too far from the topic at hand again, so I said, “I have not yet finished asking Ling Yue’s questions. There is a school of thought that as contemporary Western poetry is now limited to the vortex of formalism, it is now increasingly turning its back on its core value. The conversation between poet Yang Lian and the Syrian poet Adonis published in the10th issue of Shucheng Magazine held this view, and Ling Yue would like to know your thoughts on this.”

“Of course I don’t know the context of that interview between the Chinese and Syrian poet. But in my personal view, though Western culture in general has problems, and there are also a lot feminist writing quite a lot of bad poetry—because they are too overtly politicized—but all in all, the tradition of American poets is fairly strong. For example, Geoffrey Hill, Seamus Heaney, John Ashbery, as well as such people as our Yale Colleague John Hollander have all published some first rate work. The recently deceased poet A. R. Ammons is also excellent. In addition, the poet Elizabeth Bishop is also one of the greatest poets in American literature. So I think that the American poetic tradition still has life.”

“Okay,” I said, smiling. “Now that we have finished the questions from Ling Yue, I would like to ask you the questions I had in mind. What I want to know is, what are your current view on the Romantics? When the University of California-Irvine first instituted the Irvine-Wellek lecture series, they invited you to be the first speaker, and the editor at the time, Frank Lentricchia used the word “romantic” to describe you. He said, ‘romantic” does not merely describe a genre of literary studies, a kind of kind of metaphysics, or a kind of historical theory, but can also be used to refer to a particular style of living. When I read those words I was deeply moved. Do you agree with what he says?”

“I completely agree.” His expression was reminiscent and calm. “However, one of my former Yale students, Jerome McGann (a New Historicist) criticized me savagely in his book The Romantic Ideology. He believed that I and my colleague Geoffrey Hartman got the definition of “Romanticism” completely wrong. But to this day I truly believe that the spirit of Romanticism is what I call “Romantic subjectivity”; in other words, it is that subjectivity that involves the conscious spirit of humans. That kind of Romantic subjectivity is different from European Idealism, which actually shares similarity with all the wisdom literature of the world. It makes one think of the attitude towards life held by the Confucianists and Daoists of ancient China, as well as the biblical tradition of the Hebrew-speaking people. Later, the editor collected my Irvine lectures into the little book The Breaking of the Vessels.

“Oh yes, I still remember that when I first arrived at Yale in 1982, I went to Henry Schwab’s bookstore to buy this book.”

“I think that might be the first time I met you, yes? Ah, I remember now . . .” He widened his eyes and spoke excitedly. 

“Oh right, it was certainly very fortuitous to be able to meet you at the bookstore. I always had a question I wanted to ask you, which is, as you are a long time reader of literature, how do you personally read poems?”

“I really like this question, because I really liked reading from a very young age. I have always read quickly; I remember when I was around 35, I read like lighting. In addition, my memory has always been excellent, since I was very young, perhaps photographic. Thus, I memorized many English poems, even some essays. In this regard, I am a loyal disciple of St. Augustine; St. Augustine believed that everything in the world relies on memory. I also believe that a person relies on memory to have anything. My unusual memory allowed teaching to seem fairly easy; I could essentially not bring books to my classes, though to avoid issues I still brought texts to school. I think that the greatest weakness of modern American education is that American children never learn to properly read, so after they grow up, they read less and less.” As he finished speaking, Bloom sighed. 

As a follow up, I asked, “We just discussed the meaning of “romantic,” but I forgot to ask one last question. Do you think you are a romantic person?”

“No, I am not at all romantic! I am essentially a teacher, and a literary scholar and critic. My work is mainly to teach people how to enjoy poetry. It can be said that that is also your work. Unfortunately, there are too few people undertaking this important task. The art of reading poetry has long since been lost in American popular culture, which is deeply disappointing. Thus, for many years, I have been preparing a book on the best poems in English. My wife Jeanne has already organized my drafts into files, but it still hasn’t been published. . . That’s right, speaking of teaching, I especially like several of your Chinese students, such as Qian Nanxiu who is teaching at Rice, and the two students you sent to study American poetry in my class, Wang Ao and Huang Hongyu. They are all very intelligent and genuinely love poetry. I think Chinese people are especially capable of enjoying poetry, which is possibly due to China’s long literary tradition. I know that Confucius always valued and respected poetry, and never diminished it. However, the Western tradition is different. For example, Socrates always attempted to separate philosophy from poetry, even putting them at odds . . .”

Suddenly, the phone rang. It was someone asking Bloom when he was going to Mexico to receive an award. At this time, Bloom hurriedly rose to take the call, so Jeanne took the opportunity to walk over and tell me softly, “Let me tell you some good news. Harold just received the prestigious Alfonso Reyes Prize, and next week he is going to Monterrey to receive the award. I am going with him.” This prize was established in honor of the great Mexican writer Alphonso Reyes (1889-1959); the eminent novelist Jorge Luis Borges was a former recipient. 

And so I walked over, holding out both my hands to Bloom to congratulate him. At this moment I suddenly thought of the two concluding lines from the Li Bai poem “A Gift to Meng Haoran”:

He is lofty mountain peak to admire 
And I can only bow to his purity

Truly, the Bloom before my eyes had the literary training of a “lofty mountain peak”; it was hardly something that ordinary people could cultivate. I could only vainly attempt to emulate his “purity.” 

Driving home that day, I once again encouraged myself to be more diligent in the study of the literary classics. That road to knowledge was indeed very, very long . . . 

Originally published in Shuceng 2003, vol. 11.




孙康宜与布鲁姆(图片来自作者)


什么是真正的大批评家?

——布鲁姆访谈

作者:孙康宜


1982年秋,我应聘到耶鲁大学教书。此后不久,即在一次偶然的场合中认识了布鲁姆(Harold Bloom)教授。布鲁姆的著作,我那时已读过许多,他在批评领域上的视野广博,以及在文学研究上倾注的热情,我自然深为敬佩。在我的心目中,他所代表的,可以说正是美国早期诗人惠特曼(Walt Whitman)那种既沉着又奔放的精神。


布鲁姆于1955年开始在耶鲁执教,那一年他才25岁。我来耶鲁的时候,他已是有名的教授,学术界的泰斗,但他对人向来没有架子,对年轻人尤其和蔼可亲。因此,自从那次偶然认识后,我们见面的机会虽然并不是很多,但多年以来,我们在教学或学术上我和他还是有过不少的接触和交流,于是在同事的关系中遂积累出几分同行的友谊。每年开学的时候,我总不会忘记督促我的读中国古典诗词的学生们去选听他的美国诗歌课。


一年前,布鲁姆突然生了一场重病,病情严重到不得不停课病休的程度;消息传来,令人担心。今年他的身体已逐渐恢复,又开始在学校里开课了。因此,我一直在想,何时要抽空到他家里去探望他一下,但又怕会打扰到他病后的休闲时间,故迟迟不敢打电话给他。正在犹豫之间,我收到了《书城》的编辑凌越先生的来信,说要请我对布鲁姆教授做个访谈。凌越还特别准备了几个题目,希望我能代表他,直接向布鲁姆请教。


今天是星期五,我和布鲁姆约好了下午两点在他的家中会面。按了门铃,只见布鲁姆的妻子Jeanne微笑地为我开门。一分钟之后,布鲁姆慢慢地从房里走了出来。我发现他不但穿了西装,还戴上了领带。这次见面,他显得格外消瘦,但眼睛依然放出了两道智慧的光芒。


“啊,你真准时,和我意料中完全一样!来,来, 来,请坐在那边……,”布鲁姆绅士派地为我脱下大衣,慢慢就走向客厅,右手指向窗前的沙发。他一面在我的额头上轻轻地投下了一个友好的亲吻。


“布鲁姆教授,很久不见,你身体看来还好……,”我很高兴地坐了下来,开始拿出录音机和照相机。“很抱歉,我今天看起来有点儿像新闻记者。”我瞇着眼,开口说道。


“不要再喊我作布鲁姆教授了,否则我还要喊你作张孙康宜教授,多么麻烦呀。咱们一言为定,从此你喊我哈罗(Harold),我喊你康宜,好吗?对了,首先让我们先试试看录音机管不管用。……。”


这时,他开始情不自禁地朗诵起美国诗人Hart Crane的诗句来。他的视线朝着窗外,声音铿锵,节奏稳重。从他的眼里,我看到了一种温润的光影。我注视着他,自己好像也进入了另一个世界。


几秒钟之后,我打断了他。“好,哈罗,我想录音机没问题了。我们现在就开始正式访谈吧。今天我想把题目分成两组;一组是《书城》的编辑凌越先生所提出的三个问题,一组是我自己想向您请教的问题。第一组的问题是非得要问的,但我的问题则是次要的,要看时间和情况而定。”


“当然,当然,” 他点头同意。


“凌越想问你的第一个问题是:由于翻译滞后的原因,一般中国读者熟悉的美国诗人最新的也是金斯堡 (Allen Ginsberg)、阿什贝利(John Ashbery)这一代了。可否请您向中国读者推荐几位值得关注的中青年一代的美国诗人?”


“首先,我想说的是,阿什贝利确实是一流的伟大诗人,但金斯堡,虽然他是我的老朋友, 我必须坦诚地说,他其实说不上是个诗人。至于年轻一代用英语写作的诗人们,我最推崇的有两位。第一位是加拿大的女诗人Anne Carson,她今年大约52 岁左右;她是一个十分杰出的诗人,她的诗风强而有力,很奔放,很有独创性。她的作品有几分近似于十九世纪的诗人爱米丽•勃朗特(Emily Bront)和荻金荪(Emily Dickinson)。[1] 另外一位美国诗人Henri Cole也十分杰出,我以为他是当前最优秀的美国年轻诗人。他的诗风具强烈的感染力和极端的形式美,有些古典的味道。他已出版了五本诗集,包括最近的《中地》(Middle Earth)。过去他两本最为有名的诗集是:《事物的外观》(The Look of Things )和《可见的人》(The Visible Man),都是十分感人的作品;前者的书名取自美国前辈诗人Wallace Stevens的诗,后者则取自Hart Crane的诗 。Henri Cole 今年大约46岁。我看年轻一代中,大概就是以上两位诗人最为出色了。至于更年轻的作家群中,因为实在太多了,一时很难作判断。”

——————————————

[1] Anne Carson已出版了的诗集和散文集有﹕(1)《男人下班后》(Men in the Off Hours) (2)《清水﹕散文与诗》(Plainwater: Essays and Poetry);(3)《红色自传﹕一本用诗写成的小说》(Autobiography of Red: A Novel in Verse);(4)《玻璃、反讽、与上帝》(Glass, Irony and God) ; (5)《苦乐参半的爱情》(Eros the Bittersweet)。其中《苦乐参半的爱情》一书则以希腊女诗人沙弗(Sappho)的话语为该书的引言﹕“是沙弗最先把爱情视为苦乐参半的/ 凡是爱过的人都会同意……。”最近Anne Carson 又编了一本沙弗诗集, 题为 《要不然, 就在冬天﹕沙弗诗集片断》(If Not, Winter: Fragments of Sappho).


“谢谢你的回答。相信中国读者们一定会开始读Anne Carson和Henri Cole的作品的。”我停了一下,接着说:“《书城》编辑凌越想问的第二个问题是:您好像在观念上和新批评派有比较多的分歧,可否请您谈谈对新批评甚或对整个现代派文学的看法吗?凌越主要是想知道你对这个问题有什么较细致的见解。”


“啊,这个问题恐怕要从我的教学生涯开始说起了。明年就是我在耶鲁教学五十周年了。在这漫长的五十年间,我曾经为了我的文学信念,持续地打了四次大战。我的第一次大战其实就是反新批评派的一场战争。当时我只是一个年轻的教授,但我却很大胆地批判了当时正在风行的新批评派的几个大将,其中包括一些我在耶鲁的师长们,例如Cleanth Brooks、W. K. Wimsatt、Robert Penn Warren 等人。当然,Warren 教授后来终于成了我的好友,但那是很久以后的事。我之所以反对他们,主要因为他们破坏了英文诗歌里的伟大传统——那就是从乔塞(Geoffrey Chaucer),莎士比亚, Edmund Spencer, 米尔顿(John Milton), 布雷克(William Blake), 渥兹华斯(William Wordsworth), 雪莱(Percy Bysshe Shelley), 济慈(John Keats), 布朗宁(Robert Browning),但尼生(Alfred, Lord Tennyson)一直传承下来的固有传统。此外,我发现那些新批评家们也企图打倒早期美国的经典作家们——如惠特曼, 荻金荪,埃默森(Ralph Waldo Emerson)等。所以我这些年来完全致力于提升传统经典的工作,我想我的工作还是很有效果的;至少大部分的文学经典都已经重新得到它们应得的地位了。当然这些经典也包括二十世纪的一些杰出作——如Wallace Stevens,Hart Crane,叶慈(William Butler Yates), 劳伦斯(D. H. Lawrence)等。你知道,我基本上反对艾略特(T. S. Eliot), 庞德(Ezra Pound), William Carlos Williams等人的诗歌理论,虽然他们个别都是十分杰出的诗人。后来,在打完“反新批评”之战后,我又转移了一个战场;那就是所谓的“反解构”之战。其实那是一场“反法国侵略”(against the French invasion)之战。 在那场战争之中,许多我的攻击目标都是朋友兼师长——如保罗•德曼(Paul de Man), 雅克•德里达(Jacques Derrida), J. Hillis Miller。其中主要的争论重点是有关“意义”的阐释问题——那就是,“诗歌怎么会存在意义”(How poetry can mean anything)的问题。结构主义者以为诗歌的意义都是不可决定的(indeterminate),因为语言本来就是不可捉摸的。但我不同意;我以为语言本身不能为我们负起思考的作用。我认为,哲学家海德格尔(Martin Heidegger)不能为我们阐释诗歌的意义;但莎士比亚却能,因为他早已透过他的剧本点出了诗歌的真义……。总之,后来打完了这场规模宏大的“反解构主义”之战后,我发现自己又进入了第三场战争,那是一场似乎永远打不完的战——其实一直到目前, 美国的校园里还普遍存在着这场战争的余波。原来,那是1967年从加州伯克莱大学开始的一种“对抗文化”(counter-culture)的潮流,从此美国的大众文化和学术界丧失了美学的原则,逐渐被种族、性别、性倾向等考虑所支配。我曾经把这一股“对抗文化”的潮流称之为“愤怒派”(School of Resentment), 因为属于这个派别的人的内心都充满了愤怒,完全失去了对美学的尊重。真的,打了这么多次战,我已经感到十分疲劳。但没料到,不久前我又不知不觉地卷入了第四个战争。 我看,最近在整个英语界和西方文化界里所发生最为可怕的一件事, 就是大家普遍地提倡那令人啼笑皆非的哈利•波特(Harry Potter)文学;人们甚至盲目地让它取代了传统的儿童文学。在我看来,这是一件最为令人感到可耻、愚昧的文化潮流。我因而也加入了这场文化争论——例如,在《纽约时报》《洛杉矶时报》中,我都强烈地攻击这种Harry Potter文学,而且也会继续反对下去。此外,最近美国国家书卷奖(National Book Award)居然颁给了畅销书作者Stephen King。Stephen King是一个三流的作家,他完全不懂得何谓美学,也不懂得什么是人生的认识论终极价值。他完全投合大众之所好,这是我感到最不可救药的。从前曾经有人称我是一个“抬杠批评家”(antithetical critic),我想,或许还有些道理。我就是这样的一个批评家,所以没有人会请我参加他们的社团或俱乐部。”


“那么,哈罗,你理想中的前辈批评家是谁呢?” 我趁机打断了他的话。


“哦,在西方批评史中,我所尊敬的英雄人物就是约翰生(Samuel Johnson), 罗斯金(John Ruskin), 裴特尔(Walter Pater), 王尔德(Oscar Wilde), Kenneth Burke, Northrop Frye, William Empson, 还有我的好友George Wilson Knight (已于1985年去世)。[2]总之,我的立场一直是,诗歌绝不可被政治化 (politicized) 。 ”他说这话时,面部的表情显出了几分沉重。 我看得出, 他正在为英美大众文化的价值观感到忧虑。

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[2] George Wilson Knight 的作品包括以下诸书﹕《火轮》(The Wheel of Fire ,1930), 《帝国题材》(The Imperial Theme, 1931), 《生命冠冕》(The Crown of Life, 1946), 《金色迷宫》(The Golden Labyrinth , 1962), 《被忽视的动力﹕关于十九世纪和二十世纪文学》(Neglected Powers: Essays on 19th and 20th Century Literature ,1971)。此外, 他也写过不少剧本、诗歌、以及自传。


接着,我问他:“没想到您会崇拜文学批评家Empson。Empson不就是您所讨厌的新批评派的其中一员吗?”


“哦,Empson 虽然被归纳为新批评派的一员,但他的文学观点比Wimsatt等人高明太多了。我很尊敬Empson,因为他基本上是尊重传统文化的。唯一让我感到不解的是,他后来居然成了拥毛派,而且还十分欣赏毛主席的诗词。”


“我知道中国人一直很欣赏Empson,主要是因为他从前住在中国,也曾在中国教过很多年的书,他因此也对中国人有着深厚的感情吧。”


就这样,我们的访谈无形中转到了中国文化。布鲁姆告诉我,他一向很崇拜中国文化,在康乃尔大学读书的时候, 他曾经学过两年的中国语文。他说,他读过《诗经》《楚辞》、李白、杜甫等经典作品的英译,知道古代中国曾经出过和但丁一样的伟大诗人。他也读过不少有关儒家、道家、佛教的书籍,所以一直很羡慕中国那种悠久而成熟的文化传统。他以为,在西方,除了苏格拉底以外,真的没有第二个人能比得上孔子的文化修养。他还顺便告诉我,他多年来在耶鲁最好的朋友就是著名的中国历史学家史景迁(Jonathan Spence)。他说,史景迁的妻子金安平博士(也在耶鲁执教)正在开始撰写一部有关孔子的书,他为此事感到高兴,因为中国古老的文化传统是有必要持续下去的。


“啊,如果您真的那么崇拜中国传统文化,为什么在最近所出版的Genius (《天才》)一书中,并没介绍任何一位中国作家呢?” 我忍不住问道。“ 您既然收入了日本《源氏物语》的作者紫氏部,为何偏偏漏掉了《红楼梦》的作者曹雪芹呢?”[3]


——————————————

[3] 布鲁姆这本书的全名是Genius: A Mosaic of One Hundred Exemplary Creative Minds (《天才﹕有关一百位文学创造家短评》),该书于2002 年由纽约的Warner Books出版公司出版。


一听到这样一个问题,布鲁姆很快地反应道:“啊,那怎么说呢? 那实在是因为我对中国文学知道得不够多、不够透彻,才不敢随便谈论的缘故啊。中国传统如此地久远,如此地复杂, 我觉得自己真的没有足够能力来研究它。除非我能到中国去住个一年半载的,否则绝不可能完全了解中国文化。但我今年我已经七十三岁了,加上身体又如此地衰弱,恐怕这一辈子是去不了中国了。反之,日本《源氏物语》的英译本早已经进入了英语的世界中,我很年轻时就开始阅读Arthur Waley的节译本,后来又读了Seidensticker 的全译本,加上该书对于西方读者来说,较为容易掌握,所以我很自然地就把它包括在我的那本书中了。”


这时,我看了看表,发现时间已经不多了,距离访谈结束的时间只有半个小时而已。我想,我们的访谈似乎不能再离题太远了。


于是我说:“我还没问完凌越所要问的所有问题呢。他的第三个问题是:有一种观点认为,现在的西方诗歌由于限于形式化的旋涡中,已经越来越背离诗歌核心的力量了。《书城》10期发表的杨炼和阿拉伯诗人阿多尼斯的对话就是持此观点的,很想知道您对此是怎么看的。”


“我当然不知道那位中国诗人和阿拉伯诗人谈话的上下文。但我个人的看法是,虽然西方的大众文化很有问题,也有许多女性主义者写了不少坏诗——因为它们都太过于政治化——但整个说来,那个承续下来的美国诗歌传统还是十分稳固而强大的。例如,Geoffrey Hill,Seamus Heaney,阿什贝利,还有我们的耶鲁同事John Hollander 等人都出版了许多一流的作品。最近刚去世的的诗人A. R. Ammons 也十分优秀。此外,上一辈的女诗人Elizabeth Bishop 也是美国文学史上属一属二的杰出诗人。所以我认为美国的诗歌传统还是很有生命力的。”[4]

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[4] Geoffrey Hill (1932- ) 较为有名的一首诗题为﹕“September Song” (“九月之歌”)。Elizabeth Bishop(1911-1979)写过一首题为 “Fish” (“鱼”)的诗, 特别脍炙人口。A.R. Ammons(1926-2003)曾写过一首献给布鲁姆教授的诗, 题目是﹕“The Arc Innside and Out: for Harold Bloom” (“方舟内外﹕ 献给哈罗.布鲁姆”)。


“好,” 我微笑地说道,“现在既然已问完了凌越先生所要问的问题,我想开始问我自己想问的问题了。我想知道的是:你目前对“浪漫主义”的看法如何?记得,从前加州大学鹅湾校区刚设立 Irvine-Wellek 演讲系列时,他们请您作第一个演讲者,当时该系列的主编 Frank Lentricchia 就用“浪漫”一词来形容您;他说,“浪漫”不仅指一种诗学的方向、一种形上学、一种历史的理论、也指向一种特殊的生活方式。我第一次读到那段文字时,深受感动。你现在还同意Frank Lentricchia 的说法吗?”


“同意,完全同意。”他用一种回忆式的、冷静的表情说道。“然而,我从前的耶鲁学生Jerome McGann (一个新历史主义者)却在一本题为《浪漫主义的意识形态》(The Romantic Ideology)的书中,狠狠地批评了我。[5]他认为我和耶鲁同事Geoffrey Hartman等人完全把“浪漫主义”的定义搞错了。但我至今仍然深信,浪漫主义的灵魂就是我所谓的“浪漫主体性”;换言之,是那个主体性涉及到了人的自觉精神。 那种浪漫的主体性有别于欧洲的理想主义(European Idealism),它其实和世界上所有的“智慧文学”(wisdom literature)有些相通之处。它使人想到了中国古代儒家、道家的生命态度,也令人想到希伯来人的圣经传统。总之,后来的主编把我在鹅湾的那一系列演讲编成了集子,终于出版了《破器》(The Breaking of the Vessels )那本小书。”

——————————————

[5] 此书于1983 年由芝加哥大学出版社出版。Jerome J. McGann 于1966 年自耶鲁大学获得博士学位,后来曾执教于芝加哥大学、伦敦大学等校。除了《浪漫主义的意识形态》一书外, 他还写了不少有关其它方面的书籍。


The Breaking of the Vessels


“啊,我还记得1982那年,我刚到耶鲁,正巧到Henry Schwab先生的书店去买你的《破器》那本小书……。”


“我想,那就是我第一次遇见你那一次,是吗?啊,我想起来了……。”他张大了眼睛,很兴奋地说道。


“对了。能在书店遇见你,实在很巧。因为我一直有一个问题想问您——那就是,作为一个文学作品的长期读者,你个人是怎样来阅读诗歌的?”


“我很喜欢这个问题,因为我从小就喜欢阅读。我阅读的速度向来很快, 记得我大约三十五岁时,阅读之快,有如闪电。而且记忆力从小就很强,可以说是过目不忘。因此,几乎所有的英语诗歌我都能背诵; 就连有些散文篇章,我也能背得出。在这一方面,我基本上是圣奥古斯丁的忠实信徒;圣奥古斯丁以为天下万事均得靠记忆,我也相信,一个人是靠记忆来拥有一切的。我那非凡的记忆力使得我的教书工作显得十分容易;我几乎可以不带书本去上课,但为了防备万一,我还是带着书去学校。我认为今日美国教育最大的缺失就是,美国儿童从来没好好学过如何阅读,因此他们长大之后,所读的书就越来越少了。”说完这话,布鲁姆不知不觉地叹了一口气。

我接着说道: “刚才我们谈到“浪漫”的意义,但我忘了问一个最后的问题:您觉得自己是个浪漫的人吗?”


“不,我一点儿也不浪漫!我基本上是个教书的人,也是文学批评家兼学者。 我的工作主要是教人如何欣赏诗歌;可以说,和你的工作差不多。可惜现在从事这种工作的人太少了。所谓“阅读诗歌的艺术”(the art of reading poetry)早已在美国大众文化中失踪了,这个现象很让我失望。因此多年来,我一直在准备一系列有关“最佳英语诗歌”(“The Best Poems in English”)的书。我的妻子Jeanne已把我的那些稿件整理好收在箱子里了,但还没出版呢……对了,说到教书,我特别喜欢你的几个中国学生——例如已经在Rice大学教书的钱南秀, 还有你最近送来我班上学美国诗歌的王敖和黄红宇。他们都是很聪明的学生,也真正地热爱诗歌。我觉得,中国人好像特别能欣赏诗歌,这可能和中国古老的传统有关。 因为,我知道,孔子从头就很尊重诗歌,从来不会贬低诗歌 。然而,西方的传统就不同了。例如,苏格拉底一直设法把哲学与诗歌分开来,甚至对立起来……”


突然间,电话铃响了。原来是,有人打电话来问布鲁姆,问他什么时候要到墨西哥去领奖。这时,布鲁姆忙着站起来接电话,Jeanne 就趁机走过来,悄悄地在我的耳边说道: “告诉你一个好消息,哈罗刚得到了有名的Alfonso Reyes 奖,他下个星期要去墨西哥的Monterrey城领奖,我要陪他去呢。”据说,那个文学奖是为了纪念墨西哥的伟大作家 Alphonso Reyes(1889-1959) 而设的。[6] 著名小说家博尔赫斯(Jorge Luis Borges) 就曾经得过那个奖。

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[6] Monterrey为Alfonso Reyes的出生地,故领奖处设于该地。


于是,我走过去,伸出双手向布鲁姆说声恭喜。这时突然想起了李白在“赠孟浩然” 一诗中的结尾两句:


高山安可仰?

徒此挹清芬。


确实,眼前的布鲁姆拥有那“高山”似的文学修养,岂是平常人所能仰及? 我只是徒然效法他那“清芬”的学养罢了。


今天,在开车返回的途中,我再一次鼓励自己必须更加勤奋阅读文学经典。那条求知的路确实很长,很长……。


2003年10月3日

写于耶鲁大学


https://v.qq.com/txp/iframe/player.html?width=500&height=375&auto=0&vid=d0333p20fjl

布鲁姆的朗诵



孙康宜,美国著名华裔汉学家。原籍天津,1944年生于北京,两岁时随家人迁往台湾。1968年移居美国,曾任普林斯顿大学葛斯德东方图书馆馆长。现为耶鲁大学首任Malcolm G.Chance’56 东亚语言文学讲座教授,曾获美国人文学科多种荣誉奖学金。2015年4月当选美国艺术与科学(American Academy of Arts and Sciences)学院院士。2016年被选为台湾中研院院士。


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