殊途同归 第二季

伴随着BGM响起，压抑的预感直接涌上来，第一次打开的时候是半夜，没有勇气看下去，于是选择了一个阳光明媚的早晨~ 第一集的主题选择了边缘人中的边缘人，没想到最后给了一个HE。一直惴惴不安地等，等陪审团说“guilty”，又隐隐期盼着那个“not”。 这一集讲的，就是一个关于美丽的故事。 豆叔展现真实的自我上街，是他自信的美丽；面对各色人等的不屑和蔑视，能保持住平静的心，是从容的美丽；而为了自己的爱人，是绽放的美丽。 看到一半就太揪心，次次为了等待爱人的到来，精心打扮；面对电话留言机里的哀求，总是忍不住就pick up；为了Tony的一句“我们一起走”，瞬间绽放笑容；轻快地跑着下楼梯的脚步，还有在课堂上的激情朗诵，简直是整个人都亮了起来。 而对方是那样的狰狞，在人来人往的大街上甩狠话，将现实的生活和夜晚完完全全分割开来。Tony是懦弱的，正如诸多出轨的男人，口口声声说着我爱我的妻子，一边却拼命搅动自己心中那所谓的“死水”。 之所以说是HE，还因为Tony在看到Simon出狱时，那个带着愧疚和喜悦的笑容。 在网上找出来了那首诗， 开始只是作为亚瑟王的历史迷，对camelot这个词条件反射，后来大叔念来的感觉，听起来好美 The Lady of Shallott Part I. On either side the river lie Long fields of barley and of rye, That clothe the wold and meet the sky; And thro' the field the road runs by To many-tower'd Camelot; And up and down the people go, Gazing where the lilies blow Round an island there below, The island of Shalott. Willows whiten, aspens quiver, Little breezes dusk and shiver Thro' the wave that runs for ever By the island in the river Flowing down to Camelot. Four gray walls, and four gray towers, Overlook a space of flowers, And the silent isle imbowers The Lady of Shalott. By the margin, willow-veil'd Slide the heavy barges trail'd By slow horses; and unhail'd The shallop flitteth silken-sail'd Skimming down to Camelot: But who hath seen her wave her hand? Or at the casement seen her stand? Or is she known in all the land, The Lady of Shalott? Only reapers, reaping early In among the bearded barley, Hear a song that echoes cheerly From the river winding clearly, Down to tower'd Camelot: And by the moon the reaper weary, Piling sheaves in uplands airy, Listening, whispers "'Tis the fairy Lady of Shalott." Part II. There she weaves by night and day A magic web with colours gay. She has heard a whisper say, A curse is on her if she stay To look down to Camelot. She knows not what the curse may be, And so she weaveth steadily, And little other care hath she, The Lady of Shalott. And moving thro' a mirror clear That hangs before her all the year, Shadows of the world appear. There she sees the highway near Winding down to Camelot: There the river eddy whirls, And there the surly village-churls, And the red cloaks of market girls, Pass onward from Shalott. Sometimes a troop of damsels glad, An abbot on an ambling pad, Sometimes a curly shepherd-lad, Or long-hair'd page in crimson clad, Goes by to tower'd Camelot; And sometimes thro' the mirror blue The knights come riding two and two: She hath no loyal knight and true, The Lady of Shalott. But in her web she still delights To weave the mirror's magic sights, For often thro' the silent nights A funeral, with plumes and lights And music, went to Camelot: Or when the moon was overhead, Came two young lovers lately wed; "I am half-sick of shadows," said The Lady of Shalott. Part III. A bow-shot from her bower-eaves, He rode between the barley-sheaves, The sun came dazzling thro' the leaves, And flamed upon the brazen greaves Of bold Sir Lancelot. A redcross knight for ever kneel'd To a lady in his shield, That sparkled on the yellow field, Beside remote Shalott. The gemmy bridle glitter'd free, Like to some branch of stars we see Hung in the golden Galaxy. The bridle-bells rang merrily As he rode down to Camelot: And from his blazon'd baldric slung A mighty silver bugle hung, And as he rode his armour rung, Beside remote Shalott. All in the blue unclouded weather Thick-jewell'd shone the saddle-leather, The helmet and the helmet-feather Burn'd like one burning flame together, As he rode down to Camelot. As often thro' the purple night, Below the starry clusters bright, Some bearded meteor, trailing light, Moves over still Shalott. His broad clear brow in sunlight glow'd; On burnish'd hooves his war-horse trode; From underneath his helmet flow'd His coal-black curls as on he rode, As he rode down to Camelot. From the bank and from the river He flash'd into the crystal mirror, "Tirra lirra," by the river Sang Sir Lancelot. She left the web, she left the loom, She made three paces thro' the room, She saw the water-lily bloom, She saw the helmet and the plume, She look'd down to Camelot. Out flew the web and floated wide; The mirror crack'd from side to side; "The curse is come upon me," cried The Lady of Shalott. Part IV. In the stormy east-wind straining, The pale-yellow woods were waning, The broad stream in his banks complaining, Heavily the low sky raining Over tower'd Camelot; Down she came and found a boat Beneath a willow left afloat, And round about the prow she wrote The Lady of Shalott. And down the river's dim expanse-- Like some bold seer in a trance, Seeing all his own mischance-- With a glassy countenance Did she look to Camelot. And at the closing of the day She loosed the chain, and down she lay; The broad stream bore her far away, The Lady of Shalott. Lying, robed in snowy white That loosely flew to left and right-- The leaves upon her falling light-- Thro' the noises of the night She floated down to Camelot: And as the boat-head wound along The willowy hills and fields among, They heard her singing her last song, The Lady of Shalott. Heard a carol, mournful, holy, Chanted loudly, chanted lowly, Till her blood was frozen slowly, And her eyes were darken'd wholly, Turn'd to tower'd Camelot; For ere she reach'd upon the tide The first house by the water-side, Singing in her song she died, The Lady of Shalott. Under tower and balcony, By garden-wall and gallery, A gleaming shape she floated by, A corse between the houses high, Silent into Camelot. Out upon the wharfs they came, Knight and burgher, lord and dame, And round the prow they read her name, The Lady of Shalott. Who is this? and what is here? And in the lighted palace near Died the sound of royal cheer; And they cross'd themselves for fear, All the knights at Camelot: But Lancelot mused a little space; He said, "She has a lovely face; God in his mercy lend her grace, The Lady of Shalott. by Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1842)

只把第一集的碎碎念放上来了，每一集都很好，但是第一集让我念念不忘...第一集的文学性就值得五星啊！

ep1

‘I wandered lonely as a cloud,/ That floats on high o’er vales and hills/ And all at once, I saw a crowd/ A host of golden daffodils,/ Beside the lake, beneath the trees/ Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.’

Do you notice how “fluttering” destroy the rhythm of the poem? It’s impossible to make the line scan, if you pronounce “fluttering” as a trisyllabic word and that’s what Wordsworth intended of course. “Dee-dum dee-dum, dee-dum dee-dum,” and suddenly, that rhythm is shattered, when he sees the fluttering and dancing daffodils and the chaos of nature.

What do you do for a living?

Nothing, doll. Tracie’s a good-time girl.

How does she pay for this place?

SHE doesn’t.

Who does?

Simon.

Simon?

Yes, darling, Simon, the most boring man on the planet. Simon, who couldn’t get a wank in a brothel.

What does he do?

Teaches English.

Does he like it?

Hates it. He’s currently teaching romantic poetry otherwise known as Dee-dem-shite. “O the mind, mind, has mountains, cliffs of fall,/ Frightful, sheer, no-man travelled/ Hold them cheap, Who ne’er hung there/ Nor dies long our durance deal with that steep, deep. Here! Creep!” That’s a poem, That’s what he longs to teach. But no it’s “dee-dum, dee-dum, dee-fucking-dum.”

I won’t ask for yours. Married men don’t give them out.

What makes you think I’m married?

A lifetime’s experience, lovely. Got married too early, couldn’t go against the grain, had to demonstrate your heterosexuality. And now you find yourself in a loveless marriage, life passing you by that nagging voice at the back of your mind asking, “Oh, is this all there is?” But you’ll never leave her. So you snatch at chances like this, a chance to explore. No harm in that, so long as nobody finds out of course. Well, Tony, my love, your secret’s safe with me.

‘Willows whiten,/ Aspens quiver/ Little breezed dusk and shiver/ Through the wave that runs forever/ By the island in the river,/ Flowing down to Camelot/ Four grey walls and four grey towers/ Overlook a space of flowers/ And the silent isle imbibers The Lady of Shalott/ By the margin willow veiled/ Slide the heavy barges trailed by slow horses and unhailed/ The shallop flitteth, silken-sail’d/ Skimming down to Camelot./ A bow shot from her bower-eaves/ He rode between the barley sheaves/ The sun came down dazzling through the leaves. And flamed upon the brazen greaves’

表面/社会层面上是无趣的SImon，内心/夜晚是奔放的Tracie。Simon是Tracie的自卑面，Tracie是Simon的自由面。但我觉得Tracie并不是真正的自由，因为她没有自信，依旧在寻找温暖。我觉得Tracie是一个单纯大胆的孩子，接近她后会发现她的房子周围没有任何围墙。我总担心她被别人骗、受伤。她容易把心里肉敞开给别人。嘴上说着无所谓对方是否真心，其实很希望得到爱。甚至不用反馈爱，当她感受到一点点暗示，就能掏心掏肺。

其实是一个花心又自私的男人同时欺骗老婆和小三的故事，Tracie其实就是千万个被大叔骗的故事里的女孩。但因为Simon/Tracie身份的特殊性，让这个故事有了多层含义。

当陪审团宣布Tracie无罪时，我松了一口气，为最终Tracie选择上场的勇气鼓掌，惊艳于Tracie陈述时的冷静坚定、有理有据。但同时也为我先前的想法感到羞愧。

看的过程中总是很忧心，因为觉得这个故事是一个悲剧结尾。看着Tracie总是很担心她，觉得她弱小无助——其实就是可怜。可是我凭什么觉得这是个悲剧故事呢？我又有什么资格觉得Tracie是一个可怜的姑娘呢？我总以为我足够尊重Tracie这个群体，现在才发现我的“尊重”是表面、虚假的——因为我不相信和主流群体有别的他们的生活会是“顺利”的。我以为，就算在越来越强调尊重各个群体的今天，（大多数）社会规则——包括明确写出来的法律和大家默认的道德，不管是正不正确、合不合理——依旧是为主流群体制定的，那么主流群体也就更适应这些规则。作为主流群体的我，这一生都有前辈可以询问，甚至可以说，我只要按照长辈、老师、前辈们的指导走下去，一生不会出什么大的差错。但我总担心Tracie们，担心没有和大多数人走在一起的ta们出错，其实就是不完全信任这个群体。

想到这里，我才真正明白当自己不是大多数人时，选择做自己需要多大的勇气。