揀寒枝

致那些,我到現在都還很喜歡,也希望一直喜歡下去的

Posted by ire on   0 comments   0 trackback

我竟仍是那麼、那麼的喜歡奇幻故事。

從最早那拙劣稚幼的雪瑞娜的故事、野心太大卻眼高手低的亞提蘭戰記、還有從動筆到放棄一共磨了五年左右的Edmund Lemarchant the Wanderer系列、一直到現在自2011年5月從密蘇里回來就斷斷續續寫的Cate系列。

有時後創作的慾望那麼強烈,像是心中有烈火焚燒,卻也有很多的時候,我只想把門關起來,大哭一場,什麼都不想管。

今天看完哈比人二回來,當影片結束,片尾曲響起的時候,我突然間感到一陣強烈的懷念和嚮往。在哈比人一帶給我的失望後,我幾乎是以一種自暴自棄和半嘲弄的態度去看哈比人二的,真沒想到能覺得這麼痛快。當然,哈比人二比不上我最早看魔戒一的那種激動與感動,可是,畢竟時間不同、我的心境也不一樣。十多年後,我還能在哈比人二裡,重新體驗一點點最原始的熱情,那已是我最幸運的一件事。

我一直很喜歡George R.R. Martin的這段文字:

ON FANTASY
(原文http://www.georgerrmartin.com/about-george/on-writing-essays/on-fantasy-by-george-r-r-martin/)

The best fantasy is written in the language of dreams. It is alive as dreams are alive, more real than real … for a moment at least … that long magic moment before we wake.

Fantasy is silver and scarlet, indigo and azure, obsidian veined with gold and lapis lazuli. Reality is plywood and plastic, done up in mud brown and olive drab. Fantasy tastes of habaneros and honey, cinnamon and cloves, rare red meat and wines as sweet as summer. Reality is beans and tofu, and ashes at the end. Reality is the strip malls of Burbank, the smokestacks of Cleveland, a parking garage in Newark. Fantasy is the towers of Minas Tirith, the ancient stones of Gormenghast, the halls of Camelot. Fantasy flies on the wings of Icarus, reality on Southwest Airlines. Why do our dreams become so much smaller when they finally come true?

We read fantasy to find the colors again, I think. To taste strong spices and hear the songs the sirens sang. There is something old and true in fantasy that speaks to something deep within us, to the child who dreamt that one day he would hunt the forests of the night, and feast beneath the hollow hills, and find a love to last forever somewhere south of Oz and north of Shangri-La.

They can keep their heaven. When I die, I’d sooner go to middle Earth.

多麼貼切地形容--奧茲以南,香格里拉之北,我們夢想孕育之地。

Post comment

只對管理員顯示

Trackback

trackbackURL:http://vomisa72.blog138.fc2.com/tb.php/207-829e7946