敏感

假如朋友訴苦：誰人眼神總似懷有敵意，某君說話句句帶刺；多半會將他籠統判斷為「太敏感」。某人被指天生敏感，則難免被對號入座為林黛玉的知音。但願我們的語言裡，還有一個詞與「敏感」共通，可以盛載它的另一重意思，不要讓它天生負著一陣陰霾，使我有時不敢稱讚別人「敏感」──有這樣一個人，從不會費心推敲其他人一言一笑背後有何深意，卻總知道身邊人腦海裡迂迴曲折的連翩浮想，五色感受，不必依靠任何蛛絲馬跡，就是心中明白，「解釋不來，但我知你會」。世上人的敏感原有兩種，一種是卑微的，自傷的；一種是知心的，靈性的。

不知名的

揮過手道別，是否可以說是認識了？但我不知道你的稱呼，不知道你來自何方。只知道你一個人來看褒曼的《沉默》。是褒曼，《沉默》啊。你是低調的，沉實的，安靜的。並不急於入場，你坐在一角讀著甚麼，驀地向我瞧一眼，我是馬上瞄到了，無心的，彷彿冥冥中偏有旨意教我知道有這個人，又教我走向另一邊不看你。入場打一個照面，那麼倉卒，未預備驚艷，來不及反應，我倆馬上擠半點微笑，有點靦腆，有點失措，人已經錯開了。完場時自覺或不自覺站在早先位置──我絕少的，老遠就打定心，這次眼神不游移了。似有默契地──算是我的狂想也好──面對面，交換了我們第一個，正式的，微笑。你沒有停下，去了，我大膽憑眼神追隨你，就在快要消失門後以前，你回過頭來，是不好意思受逼視，還是念頭不知所起？視線再度交接，又一個微笑。我發呆偷喜一陣，追出去又想，你會不會有些耽擱，還在？而我會不會太貪婪？電光火石間你的身影卻已在眼前，我唯盼著，說不出一句「明天還會來嗎？」微笑以外，你手一揮，嘴裡念念說著再見。並不止於表示友善，我自牽牽扯扯，你有看出來嗎？怎麼說，明明一定沒見過，卻總覺從前已經認識。五次相對，腦海重想千百遍。你笑得那樣甜美，還會再遇上嗎？

The Mégélise way

女皇外遊， Société Particulière de la Reine 的（深宵） soirée 活動暫停， Duchesse de Polignac 乘空小休數天。連日花天酒地，無以為記（或不在此記）；倒是寧願抄書一段－－最近讀完的，一直想抄。如不嫌行貨，我想告訴你，再沒有別的文章，能如此優美而完全地說出我對某些往事的難以割捨，以及它們對我的深刻的影響－－尤其當別人無法理解我的快樂時。

So the Mégélise way and the Guermantes way remain for me linked to many of the little events of that life which, of all the various lives we lead concurrently, is the most abundant in vicissitudes, the richest in episodes, I mean our intellectual life. No doubt it progresses within us imperceptibly, and the truths that have changed its meaning and its appearance for us, that have opened new paths to us, we had been preparing to discover for a long time; but we did so without knowing it; and for us they date only from the day, from the minute in which they became visible. The flowers that played on the grass then, the water that flowed past in the sunlight, the whole landscape that surrounded their appearance continues to accompany the memory of them with its unconscious or abstracted face; and certainly when they were slowly studied by that humble passerby, that child dreaming - as a king is studied by a memorialist lost in the crowd - that corner of nature, that bit of garden could not have believed it would be thanks to him that they would be elected to survive in all their most ephemeral details; and yet the fragrance of hawthorn that for ages along the hedge where the sweetbriers will soon replace it, a sound of echoless steps on the gravel of a path, a bubble formed against a water plant by the current of the stream and bursting immediately - my exaltation has borne them along with it and managed to carry them across so many years in succession, while the paths round about have disappeared and those who walked on them have died, and the memory of those who walked on them. At times the piece of landscape thus transported into the present detaches itself in such isolation from everything else that it floats uncertain in my mind like a flowery Delos, while I cannot say from which country, which time - perhaps quite simply which dream - it comes. But it is most especially as deep layers of my mental soil, as the firm ground on which I still stand, that I must think of the Mégélise way and the Guermantes way. It is because I believed in things and in people while I walked along them, that the things and people they revealed to me are the only ones that I still take seriously today and that still bring me joy. Whether it is that the faith which creates has dried up in me, or that reality takes shape in memory alone, the flowers I am shown today for the first time do not seem to me to be real flowers. The Mégélise way with its lilacs, its hawthorns, its cornflowers, its poppies, its apple trees, the Guermantes way with its river full of tadpoles, its water lilies and buttercups, formed for me for all time the contours of the countryside where I would like to live, where I demand above all else that I may go fishing, drift about in a boat, see ruins of Gothic fortifications, and find among the wheat fields a church, like Saint-André-des-Champs, monumental, rustic, and golden as a haystack; and the cornflowers, the hawthorns, the apple trees that I still happen, when travelling, to come upon in the fields, because they are situated at the same depth, on the level of my past, communicate immediately with my heart. And yet, because places have something individual about them, when I am seized by the desire to see the Guermantes way again, you would not satisfy it by taking me to the bank of a river where the water lilies were just as beautiful, more beautiful than in the Vivonne, any more than on my return home in the evening - at the hour when there awakened in me that anguish which later emigrates into love, and may become forever inseparable from it - I would have wished that the mother who came to say goodnight to me would be more beautiful and more intelligent than my own. No; just as what I needed so that I could go to sleep happy, with that untroubled peace which no mistress has been able to give me since that time because one doubts them even at the moment one believes in them, and can never possess their hearts as I received in a kiss my mother's heart, complete, without the reservation of an afterthought, without the residue of an intention that was not for me - was that it should be her, that she should incline over me that face marked below the eye by something which was, it seems, a blemish, and which I loved as much as the rest, so what I want to see again is the Guermantes way that I knew, with the farm that is not very far from the two that come after pressed so close together, at the entrance to the avenue of oaks; those meadows on which, when the sun turns them reflective as a pond, the leaves of the apple trees are sketched, that landscape whose individuality sometimes, at night in my dreams, clasps me with an almost uncanny power and which I can no longer recover when I wake up. No doubt, by virtue of having forever indissolubly united in me different impressions merely because they had made me experience them at the same time, the Mégélise way and the Guermantes way exposed me, for the future, to many disappointments and even to many mistakes. For often I have wanted to see a person again without discerning that it was simply because she reminded me of a hedge of hawthorns, and I have been led to believe, to make someone else believe, in a revival of affection, by what was simply a desire to travel. But because of that very fact, too, and by persisting in those of my impressions of today to which they may be connected, they give them foundations, depth, a dimension lacking from the others. They add to them, too, a charm, a meaning that is for me alone. When on summer evenings the melodious sky growls like a wild animal and everyone grumbles at the storm, it is because of the Mégélise way that I am the only one in ecstasy inhaling, through the noise of the falling rain, the smell of invisible, enduring lilacs.

Marcel Proust, In Search of Lost Time

大時代小故事

尋常百姓，不尋常的人生。朱石麟生於動盪之世，一生雖單純地投身電影創作，然而時局浩翰的牽動，令他簡樸的電影生涯，煥發出毫不尋常的光華。

他將生命與熱情奉獻給電影，拍的多是生活小故事。但跌宕時勢裡的點點滴滴，無數段落匯聚成篇，充滿大時代氣魄。

生於十九世紀的最後一個年頭，中國正值風雲色變，他走過了近代中國最驚心動魄的各個階段，歷遍帝制餘暉，辛亥革命，國共內戰，外敵入侵。抗戰以後更激烈的一輪內戰，他只能隔岸觀火，因為複雜的時代因素已逼使他退居殖民領土。無奈身經多場內憂外患，最終仍逃不脫國運的折磨，無辜地受中國近代史上那場最沉痛的文化浩劫牽連，死於浩劫前夕。

年輕時一次嚴重風寒，令他終身行動不便，因此大部份電影格局較為簡單，但他以強勁魄力及剛毅精神不斷創作，在電影史裡留下不滅的印記。他憑著才華、修養、氣魄、堅持，把大時代的經歷提煉為刻記人生的小故事，留下了為數不少的卓越作品。他是中國最偉大的電影作者之一。

*翻譯自我老豆的英文稿（老豆執過），女皇話，中文好過英文 ^_^ ，刊32屆電影節節目及訂票手冊

小聰明

把淚水看成流星　不言不語都是好風景
永遠離開了的臉孔永遠年輕
把擁擠當做溫馨　就靠這一點點小聰明
對一天一地的裂痕閉上眼睛

誰的心　都沒有毛病
你的話　都像曼陀鈴
好容易就得意忘形　笑個不停 OH......LA......

把蒼白看成水晶　故意讓愛恨不太分明
對你好卻不要讓你受寵若驚
把真實當做夢境　愛你需要一點小聰明
對不夠完美的東西閉上眼睛

王菲「小聰明」

女皇話，這首歌0岩我；又話「近得你多的其中一個結果是將『被人話無聊』當讚美。」

Playboy Loves LuDIVINE SAGNIER

法國版一月號

好野！

封面圖片來自 isubway: Ludivine Sagnier poses naked for Playboy

related: 戀父少女 Ludivine

又一個小鬼頭

再不喜歡《愛‧誘‧罪》的匠氣、做作和結構失衡，還是不得不覺得前半部的 poignancy 充滿神采。一切無非歸功於集世故與天真、冷峻與稚氣於一身的幼年 Briony ，小演員 Saoirse Ronan 眉目間並且刻記著作家的敏銳和神經質，令我幾乎相信小時候的張愛玲大抵亦是這般──因此實在很難接受日後這個女孩竟然「寫出」格調平庸的 Atonement，也很難接受她結尾通俗劇一般在電視螢幕前「懺悔」，說一堆感傷濫情的話。請勿誤會，我並不是不覺得幼年 Briony 的言行沒有對人構成傷害，只是那夾雜愛慾、妒忌和對性的迷亂的想像而來的「惡念」，惡得懾人心弦，那樣富文學的魅力，而 Briony 的的成長心態又那麼複雜和充滿糾結，本來正是電影的魅力所在；假如一切舖排只是為了誇大一對戀人所受的「苦難」，和帶出往後的「贖罪」和「懺悔」，無疑是浪費了前半段苦心經營的迷離氣氛。嗯嗯，當然人家連書名都叫「贖罪」，其意甚明，我這樣說可謂緣木求魚。（參考舒琪：一次過失，抱憾終生）

這小鬼給我的印象是幽閉古肅，今晚首映的《誘心唔怕遲》（ I Could Never be Your Woman ）裡，她卻以截然不同的風格登場。假如十年前 Natalie Portman 在唇上塗滿蔻丹引吭高唱 "Like a virgin, touched for the very first time…" 令你有性和戀童的聯想，這一次 Saoirse Ronan 狂歌熱舞對著鏡子唱 "Oops I'm gonna sing more, and dance like a who~~re"（"Oops I did it again" 的旋律）的 homage ，則惹來爆笑居多（看過她在《愛‧誘‧罪》的演出，會覺得特別惹笑），然而一樣艷光四射！完全撇除陰鬱，傻傻戇戇帶來更大驚喜，堪與老辣的媽媽 Michelle Pfeiffer 相較量，不不，老實說她已搶盡阿媽鏡。同阿媽討價還價爭論幾時可以失身──其實才剛剛第一次來月經，嘴裡又 whore 又 sex ，細路女其實明白多少呀？最興奮原來是跟同伴玩電話惡作劇和披件黑紗「扮女巫」，一天到晚發戀愛夢念念有詞同阿媽報告當日的追仔進度，語調老練但分明還是個徹頭徹尾的小豆丁：渴望成長，充滿困惑──但正正因為置身一場鬧劇，一切可以舉重若輕，憑嬉笑獲得抒解。不要以為演來容易，沒幾個小孩懂得捉摸這種吊詭的堪玩味處，分分鐘不是過份老積（早熟）便是太 cutie ，唯有 Saoirse Ronan 自然到得人驚。新 project 是改編法國同名暢銷小說的 The Lovely Bones ──話時話她的一臉雀斑老讓我想到 Ludivine Sagnier ── YO!

幼稚但又好識錫阿媽，計數不理章法但求答中──難得阿媽又好支持：「我個女有她獨得一套思考方式！」我深信女皇將來如果有個女兒，她們會似足這對母女！