Phi Sha Lijin
Humanity is undoubtedly at a dangerous crossroads. We have to ask if we have the moral fortitude to save ourselves from true perdition. In the search for answers, we still need to use the past to better understand the present.
This column is intended to provide a culturally conscious cultural inquiry into the lives and contributions of selected individuals, and while history may be volatile, it does tend to crystallize over time. A specific group of men and women who shaped the times in which they lived, while also leaving a clear mark on the civilization that followed them.
Now, more than ever, we need to find reasons to believe in this world because it is our only world. So as we look to the past to look to the future, let us follow and surpass those who resist the oppression of history, those writers who bring tears to our eyes, artists who shake our souls, poets who dare to write about love that cannot be expressed in words, those thinkers who watch over society with a sustained intellectual investment, and all the outliers who have never been defeated by the limitations of the present.
- Hu Yong
For Asir, death, suffering, and being hated are not themes to avoid, they are a natural part of life. I like her view of pain: you have to feel it, but that doesn't mean you have to dwell on it.
When I'm unhappy, I read novels. Because the cause of a person's unhappiness is difficult to find in social science writings, even though I myself am engaged in social science research. And one of the central concerns of the novel seems to be precisely "what is the cause of unhappiness".
Many of our leading writers are serious dissecters of grievances and their social, psychological, and existential causes. This type of novel can be very powerful. Reading works about the complexity of human emotions at a time when you're stuck in an emotional rut can both give you both diagnosis and comfort. However, contemporary novelists tend to approach their themes with an immersive seriousness and sincerity that can become tiresome after a while. Suffering may like companions, but sometimes people who are suffering also want to cheer up.
The Atlantic says that the United Kingdom and Ireland of the 20th century have produced a number of female writers, such as Penelope Fitzgerald, Elizabeth Taylor·· and Molly Keane· whose writing style is bright and witty, not as problems to be solved or forced to immerse oneself in grief and loss, but as tolerable, Sometimes even the conditions can be ridiculed. This unemotional approach may often appear cold on the surface, but it reinforces the deep emotion that runs through his work. Reading any of their works is like knocking open a sea urchin: sharp on the outside, soft on the inside.
The queen of sea urchins, documenting aging and dying
There is no doubt that Diana Athill · deserving queen of sea urchins. She was born in 1917 and died in 2019 at the age of 101. Asir's childhood was spent on his grandparents' estate in Norfolk. It was a glorious United Kingdom high society childhood, filled with berry picking, hunting, and horseback riding. As an adult, she went to Oxford University (unusual at the time for a girl of her origin), lazily majored in United Kingdom literature, "knowing that she would read them even for fun" without taking any practical courses. She spent her days at Oxford, unsure of what she could do, until she stumbled into the publishing industry, helping to found André Deutsch Ltd, where she worked until ·she was 75 years old. Asir has lived in the world of books throughout his career, earning himself a reputation as London's most respected literary editor.
Diana · Asir
Asir· long editor of such famous writers as Philip Roth, John ·Updike, Nor·man Mailer, V.S. Naipaul·, Jean Rhys· and Molly Keane, considered herself a midwife, writing only "in the evenings and under the desk" and only began to do so in her forties.
But Asir's writing, fictional and non-fictional, is full of small bursts: a sharp confrontation between poisonous tongues, callousness, insight, and loneliness or sadness. The novel Don't Look at Me Like That (1967) and her first memoir, Instead of a Letter (1962), are striking examples of Asir's rejection of emotional romanticization. The first sentence of these two reprints plunges the reader into a dark mood. The memoir begins: "My maternal grandmother died of old age, and it was a long and painful process. The novel begins: "When I was in school, I thought that everyone didn't like me, and that was exactly what happened." For Asir, death, suffering, and being hated are not themes to be avoided, they are a natural part of life. I like her view of pain: you have to feel it, but that doesn't mean you have to dwell on it.
Comparatively, Asir's memoirs have a warmer tone than her fictional works, but the level of vitriolis is the same. "The Long Book Tells the Story" begins with Asir, a forty-something sitting at her grandmother's dying bedside, wondering if the thought of having no children after her death would make her feel "cold and bitter": "I want to understand why. That's why I sat down and wrote about these things. In Somewhere Towards the End: A Memoir (2008), she unceremoniously says, "There are so many books on preserving youth, and so many more detailed, experimental experiences on parenthood, but there are few records of withering." And I'm walking on this withered journey...... It hurts, so I ask myself, 'Why don't I record it?' ’”
"Twilight is Near" [English] Diana · Asir / Written by Zeng Rong / Translated by Hou Lang · Sichuan People's Publishing House July 2022
Questions about aging and death are bound to be sad – think Pixar's Up (2009) and Coco (2017), two children's films about them, which are also tear-jerking for adults. In contrast, Asir's blunt curiosity is refreshing. She was actually surprised by aging and death, but not to be sad, but just to learn more.
It was this curiosity that struck me deeply. What makes Asir memorable is how committed she was to life from childhood until the end of her life. In nearly a century of her life, she is curious and looking forward to each new day. An obituary published in the New York Times on January 24, 2019, said that she became an international literary celebrity after publishing a book about the fading of desire (i.e., "Twilight Will End") in her nineties. The New York Times is wrong: this memoir (and all of her memoirs) is not "about the fading of desire," but about the persistence of desire, even when the object of desire changes throughout her life. For Asir, desire is the awareness and participation of people and places. It is her persistent and irrepressible desire to live in the moment, every moment, that makes her a mesmerizing and inspiring writer.
Let's take a screenshot of Asir's "Alive, Alive!" (Alive, Alive Oh!), which was published in 2015 at the age of 98.
"Sometimes I sit and think, sometimes I just sit": I've forgotten who said it, but it describes a state that is often seen in nursing homes and is considered pathetic. Disturbingly, I've recently realized that if someone asks me what I'm doing, I myself (not often, only occasionally) say something like that. The idea is not popular, but it is not so scary either, because I now know from experience that this state of affairs does not have to be pitiful. It's even quite pleasant – or, it can be. It may depend on the nature of the one who is sitting. That's the way it was for me, because all I was thinking about were pleasant things that had happened in the past, and when my mind relaxed, it was these things that came to mind.
Until two months ago, these things also included people, usually men. One day, I talked to a guy who was also in her nineties, and although she wasn't as old as me, she said, "Yes, of course it's a man." When I was waiting to fall asleep, I would go through all the men I had slept with. We all burst out laughing, because that's what I did. I was very happy to know that I was not alone in indulging in this stupidity.
Is this just a solace for those who may be worried that they will die in a care home? Yes, definitely, but it means more. With this mindset, can we be afraid of aging? Is it possible to fear death? Asir in "Alive, Alive! The chapter at the end of the book is about death, and it sounds exactly right, and this chapter is really called "exactly right." Asir writes: "Death is the inevitable end of an individual's existence—I don't say 'the end of life,' because it is a part of life." "In her work, death, like love, loneliness, or humiliation, is not just natural, it's too real and human to be afraid.
In her memoirs, did she write about the "fading of desire"? Yes, there is. "Twilight Is Coming to an End" says: "Perhaps, I don't look or feel that old, but sex has receded from my life, and it has gone through different phases in my life, and although it may not always be happy, it has always been at the center of my life." "It's excellent fodder for tabloids. Over the years, she has documented her sex life in almost all of her memoirs. Finally, in the sixth memoir, she lightly describes her evaporating sexual desire. Commenting on the book in The Sunday Times, Jenny · wrote: "Such a book is rare in itself, and a book about old age written by a woman who looks at reality coldly and has no time to listen to sentimental lies is as rare as, well, a thoughtful discussion of women's sexuality after 60." "When the libido is gone, Asir happily says that you finally have the space to understand your true self beyond lust." Yes, even so, when she sits in the nursing home, she still "counts all the men who have slept with me" instead of counting sheep.
To write, you have to write the true face
In the afterword to Don't Look at Me Like That·, writer Helen Oyeyemi describes how she was drawn to the "sour voice" of "me in the novel." This is an excellent review of Asir's writing.
In her work, Arthur often refers to what she calls "cold, pearl-like eyes." "Twilight Will End" said that she regards "there is a cold point in the depths of her heart" as one of her two major regrets in life. (Another regret is laziness, but that seems doubtful given that she's still writing for a living at the age of 100.) According to Asir, the main characteristic of the "cold eyes" is that they are "very interested in the various experiences, rather than participating in them." This kind of observation is certainly what makes her such a great editor: that ability to take a step back and see how things work.
After a Funeral: A Memoir, published in 1986, is quite different in structure and tone from other memoirs, but the narrative is familiar. The book details Asir's friendship with the man she called "Didi". She knew and fell in love with Didi, working and living with him until his death in 1969. In the first few pages, the author points out that he is still unmarried and childless, so we know the end of the story from the beginning. Asir met Dee Dee at a party narrated in the first chapter, and "I was excited when I went to bed that night," she wrote. "Middle-aged people can meet a lot of new people, but rarely have the opportunity to integrate new people into their lives as they did when they were younger, and that's just happening." But in the next sentence, we learn: "Five years later, this man committed suicide in my apartment. He swallowed twenty-six sleeping pills. ”
This memoir asks us the question: why tell this particular story – a story of suffering that leads to tragedy? Didi is an exiled writer from Egypt who comes from a wealthy family with a mysterious charm. In the 60s of the 20th century, Asir met and fell in love with Didi. She quickly fell out of love, but is still a good friend of Deedi. In fact, she became Deedie's only real support system, as he was destitute, unable to find a job, and suffered from severe depression, going through cycles of mania and depression. His self-destructive and adventures inflict indirect harm on friends, lovers, employers, and his roommate Asir. He made her life miserable and took advantage of her friendship and generosity. She reads his diary, which is full of insults and hurts to her, but she does not chase him away. Her patience and unwavering friendship with Didi made Asir a great friend. Still, it's hard to think that Dee Dee doesn't want his tragic life to be the subject of this memoir, chronicling his mental illness, cruelty and self-obsession, meaningless romances, gambling, alcohol addiction, and suicide.
However, Asir is ruthless not only to others, but also to himself. There's always an observer deep inside of her, and her keen eye doesn't let go of anything. Her first concern was her parents, whose relationship influenced everything that followed. Asir's work carefully dissects the emotional bondage of a particular period and a particular class. Her mother broke down with an affair shortly after she got married, and she felt deeply guilty, but ended up burying it all. The day after her husband, Asir's father, died, she told her daughter about it, even though Asir had known about it.
Asir's own frankness was hard-won, and it was always an act of defiance. Her mother was still alive when she published her book, Long Books. "I've written about sleeping with someone before I got married," she said. I also wrote about abortion. Asir's mother thought it was "inappropriate" to write about her private life for public consumption.
However, literary introspection – that is, the memoir as an independent literary genre – is a long and noble tradition that began in the fourth century A.D. St. Augustine. Augustine's Confessions. In the most effective examples of this form, the writer pursues more than just confession. Patricia Hampl explains in Memory and Imagination that "memoirs are the intersection of narrative and reflection......· It can present a story, reflect on and consider the meaning of the story. Thus, in this genre, the pedagogical maxim we often hear, "show, not tell," is reversed—to tell, not show. Presenting and telling is not only the prerogative of the author of the memoir, but also his responsibility. Asir, the author of six memoirs, is a master of the game. Individually or together, they are the best of this category.
Jo·an Didion once said that she wrote to figure out "what was I thinking...... and what it means". The same is true for Asir. "The Long Book of Complaints" is not only a chronological record of her upper-middle-class childhood and romantic upbringing, but also a reflection on the human condition. In the preface, Asir candidly raises questions that will drive her entire narrative. Before she died, her grandmother asked Asir, "What am I living for?" Asir assured the old woman at the time that her large extended family had proved that her life was worthwhile, but when she was alone, she couldn't help but wonder: "What happens to a woman who has never had the opportunity or missed the opportunity to create something like this?" What about myself? The question was like a cold wind blowing in the middle of it. I waited to start shaking. Well, it hasn't started yet, and I wonder why. ”
Since then, she has reminisced about her early years, her education at Oxford, and her reputation as one of the leading editors of literary fiction. However, we soon discover that Asir's sense of self in her world is distorted by an early failed romance; In middle age, she considers herself a failure. So does she feel pain or blame herself? Not at all. There are no heroes or victims in this book, only people; There is only one woman who is determined to understand herself - she accepts the fact that she has failed to live up to her initial expectations. With wit and sensibility, with elegant prose, the author deals with multiple themes (love, sex, faith, work) and ultimately finds pleasure in the mission of writing. It was her profession that saved her life; It is the confrontation with personal history on the pages that allows her to move on: "No one can detach himself from his past, but anyone can see it as the past, and when this happens, one can be partially freed from the consequences." ”
Write about Didi's suicide, where should she write? How do you stay interested and motivated? The way to do this is to use lively writing and loyalty to the truth, no matter how devastating it may be. Thus, Didi is revealed as a gifted and wounded person; But Asir is as merciless to himself as he is to him, exposing their patterns of manipulation of each other. Hakim Jamal, who eventually died in murder, had similar flaws and exploitative practices · him. He is the central character of Asir's Make Believe: A True Story (1993). The much younger Jamal is an African-American United States activist and author for Andre · Deutsch & Co. Malcolm· Assistant to X (Malcolm X). Jamal also lived in Asir's apartment for a while and became her lover. Asir also lived with Jamaica playwright Barry Reckord, ·. Her family had always referred to him as her "tenant", and their relationship was never acknowledged by her parents.
Asir was ahead of his time. If memoir writers continue to face disapproval, it is clear that they will not be discouraged by this. Despite our misgivings about first-person narrators, we also seem to be insatiable. Do we rely on the solace we find in stories of humiliation and failure? A more benign speculation is that perhaps we are looking for a connection to universality. Asir's graceful and insightful reminder that it's not what we tell that matters, but how we relate what we tell to universality, reveals the unique purpose and rewards of the genre of memoirs.
After thinking about his mother's objections to the personal memoir, Asir said: "I don't think there's any excuse for writing about a person's personal life unless one is trying to get to the truth about it." ”
"Alive, alive"
In her memoirs, Asir has few regrets, or rather very few regrets she shares in her book. As columnist Katharine · Whitehorn put it, she had "few regrets, though the life she led was probably considered extremely regrettable by most women of her class and era."
Objectively, she did express some regrets, though not something that "most women of her class and of that era" would appreciate. From a very young age, she said, she rebelled against her family's values, "but I didn't do it publicly." I went underground and lived my life, and sometimes I blame myself for it. I thought I should have resisted, but I didn't. I just snuck away. ”
Asir had several abortions, and on one occasion she wanted to give her baby to term, but in the end she had a miscarriage. If she has any regrets, the main thing must be that she has no daughter. "Older people who have daughters tend to have the best lives," she says. Although she said she felt guilty that she hadn't done enough for her mother, in fact, she did spend quite a bit of time caring for her in the last years of her mother's life. Her mother, like the other women in the family, lived to be in her nineties.
Even though there is a slight amount of regret, Asir says she has not been tortured too much, and she does not feel that she should reflect often. "Just stop there, because it's quite boring to look at the bad side every day. I don't think digging into the guilt of the past makes sense for the elderly, history can't be changed. I've lived to such a stage that now I only care about how to get through the moment, and I hope you will forgive me. ”
As she was about to turn 100, she wrote "Alive, Alive! He examines his pain and pleasure with a clear blue gaze. The book's title is reminiscent of the lyrics of a popular song about ·Molly Malone, a Dublin street vendor who pushes a cart and "walks through streets of varying widths, selling clams and mussels, alive, alive!" ”
Molly ·Marlon and her trolley sculpture at Suffolk Street, Dublin
The life she describes is one of abundance – though not material abundance – where every sorrow is offset by a variety of sweetness, including friends, good food, fashion, art, literature, travel, and walks in nature. Although she claims that a book about old age can end with a whimper, a boom, and the reader finds no lesson to be learned, Asir's wisdom still flows through books: "Avoid romanticism, hate possessiveness," and at the same time, "enjoy life to the fullest, but don't hurt others."
What I like the most is that Asir candidly admits her mistakes, just as she celebrates her successes. She wrote: "At this table, with this white teacup, full ashtray and half a glass of rum by my side, I see my story as a success story, even though it has always been ordinary, although much of it is sad. ”
Her life seems to have the texture of a pub ballad, even as she avoids her darkest fate. Reading her memoirs, one can feel that the pain that exists all the time in life has also been alleviated by time. Many of her memories have a wicked sense of humor, occasionally (only occasionally) flashes of bright possibilities, and her voice is so sharp that it is impossible to hide her ears, but what remains in her memory is more of her resilience in the face of pain.
On the eve of World War II, Asir was at the University of Oxford
In "Twilight Is Coming to an End", she observes her aging with a keen eye. She wrote: "Just because we are getting worse, we tend to be convinced that everything is not good, that we are less and less able to do what we like, that we listen less and less, that we see less and less, that we eat less and less, that we get hurt more and more, that our friends are dying one by one, and that we too will soon die...... So perhaps it's not surprising that it's easy to slip into the pessimism of life, but it's boring and makes the dreary last days even more dreary. She does not believe that the elderly have ruled out the possibility of happiness, and she herself is a model of happy living in old age.
When I was faced with the fear of death that came with caregiving, I always remembered one of her pieces of advice, which was to think about death every day, but only for a few minutes, and then put it aside and move on with life. Don't try to avoid it, accept it, but don't let it take over life. Needless to say, you have to take the right steps when necessary, but live your life with the best of your heart every day.
When she decided to move to a care home, she wrote: "I have a friend there named Rose ·Hacker, who is the oldest newspaper columnist in London. She said I had to go. I asked her about the waitlist, and she said don't worry, someone is going to die......"
One interviewer asked what it would look like if she were to draw a trajectory in her life. "Well," Asir said, "it was good at first, then it plummeted and it has been steadily rising ever since." As her life progresses to old age, she seems determined not to let the upward curve stop.
If you treat death with such an attitude, death is not a sad thing. For how can a man mourn a life that lasts for a hundred years and lives to the fullest until the very end of his life?
Faced with such a memoirist who confesses everything but has no remorse, it is difficult for readers not to be impressed. That's why so many people write to Asir – because many are burdened with burdens that they think they can't get rid of. Asir tells everyone that everyone can be a recoverer.
Here's a very good way to put it: a rehabilitator. Tough things will happen; You are destined to suffer; But you'll recover too. "The Long Book" tells the story of Asir's 15-year-old governess, Tony ·Irvine, who meets and falls in love with his brother's governess, Tony Irvine, and they get engaged a few years later. Owen served in the Royal Air Force of United Kingdom and was sent to Egypt during World War II. For a while, they exchanged love letters, but gradually they were cut off until Asir received an official letter asking them to break off their marriage because the man wanted to marry someone else. Owen died before the end of the war. In the 20 years since, Asir said, her soul has "shrunk to the size of a pea."
After writing this memoir, Asir saw the benefits of making her private loss public: "I had a basic, latent sense of failure — a sense of failure that came from a very simple thing, and that was that I had wanted to get married since I was a child. This is something that ordinary women can do, but I didn't do it. This sense of failure is much deeper than I realize. But once you dig it out and think about it, it's gone. ”
She didn't take her shortcomings and losses as trauma, as things that would bring distress and scars to her life. Instead, she thought that being kicked out of the Garden of Eden was good for the soul. Her abandonment is more of a signpost, pointing her along a thorny but vibrant path. "Here I almost came to the end, and my beginning came head-on—or rather, even though I thought I had moved away from it, it was always there, and now I'm back with it," she wrote. "Reading this, I wish I could be so lucky. Asir tells us that there is not only fear at the end of the road.