Chapter 19 four, five, six

Four "I lived in Paris for the rest of that winter. I didn't know anything about science; I thought it was time I learned at least a little about science. I read a lot. I don't know How much, only knowing that I am extremely ignorant. But I have known this in the past. When spring comes, I go to the country and live in a hotel by a small river, near a beautiful old-fashioned town; there are many such towns in France, Living here seems to have remained unchanged for two hundred years." I figured this was where Larry and Susan Rouvier spent their summers together, but I didn't interrupt him.

"Then I went to Spain. I wanted to see Velazquez and El Greco; to see if art could show me a way out that religion could not. I wandered for a while, and then I went to Se Willia. I liked this place very much, and thought I would spend the winter here. " I also visited Seville when I was twenty-three, and I like that place too.I love the white, crooked streets, the churches, and the wide plains of the Guadalquivir; but I also love the charm and gaiety of those Andalusian girls, with their dark eyes and their black hair. The carnations on the hair make the hair darker, and the carnation flowers are made brighter by the hair; I love the richness of their complexions, the seductive sensuality of their lips.Back then, it was true, being young was like being in heaven.Larry was only slightly older than I was when he went to Seville, so I couldn't help wondering if he was still indifferent to the temptations of these charming spirits.He answered my unspoken questions.

"I met a painter I met in Paris, a fellow named Auguste Cottet; he lived with Suzanne Rouvier for a time. He came to Seville to sketch and there A woman lives together. He invited me one evening to hear a flamenco singer at the Teatro Eridania, and he brought a friend of the woman's.You have never seen such a petite woman; only eighteen years old.She got into trouble with a boy; because she was pregnant, she had to leave her village.Boys are doing military service.After giving birth, she handed the baby over to a wet nurse and found a job herself in a tobacco factory.I take her home.

She was very gay and lovely; and after a few days I asked her if she would live with me.She said yes, so we rented two rooms, one bedroom and one sitting room, from someone who had spare rooms to share.I told her she could stop working, but she wouldn't, and it was fine with me, too, because I could have the day to myself.The kitchen is shared, so she always cooks breakfast for me before going to work, comes back at noon to cook lunch, and we go to restaurants in the evening, watch movies or find a place to dance after dinner.She thinks I'm nuts because I've taken a steam bath once and have to sponge and douse myself in cold water every morning.She left the child in a village a few miles from Seville, and we used to visit him on Sundays.She didn't hide it from me, she lived with me to earn extra money, and after her boyfriend finished his military service, she could find a place to live with him in the courtyard.She's a sweet little thing, sure to say she'll make a great wife for her Paco.Good humor, gentle temperament, enthusiasm.She sees sexual intercourse, which people keep taboo, as one of the natural functions of the body, as much as any other bodily function.She finds joy in it, and is happy to give joy to others.She was like a small animal, of course, but she was a nice, attractive, domesticated animal.

"Then she told me one night that she had received a letter from Paco from Spanish Morocco (where he did his military service) saying he was going to be demobilized and would arrive in Cadiz in two days. The next morning , she packed her things, put the money in her stockings, and asked me to take her to the station. When I sent her to the carriage, she kissed me passionately, but she was so excited that she had a head I only thought of reuniting with my lover, not saying goodbye to me. I was quite sure that she had completely forgotten me before the train left the station. "I will continue to live in Seville and leave for the East in the autumn, and that is the one that brought me to India."

Fives It's getting late.The number of guests gradually decreased, and only a few tables were still occupied.Those who sat there because they had nothing to do went home.Those who came here for a drink or something to eat after watching the show or movie, have also left.Occasionally, some late guests would walk in leisurely.I saw a tall man, obviously an Englishman, bring in a young rascal.He had the long, weary face of an English intellectual, with thin, curly hair; and he had the illusion, like many, that people you knew at home could not recognize you when you were abroad.The young hooligan devours a large plate of sandwiches while his companion looks on with joy and benevolence.What a appetite!I saw a familiar face, because we had had our hair cut in the same barber shop when we were in Nice.This man was tall and not young, with gray hair, a red and puffy face, and two big bags under his eyes.He is a banker in the Midwest of the United States. After the economic collapse, he would rather leave the city where he was born and grew up than go to court.I don't know whether he has committed a crime; if he has, he is probably too small a figure in the eyes of the French authorities to warrant his extradition.He had a lot of air, and he pretended to be cheerful like a bad politician, but there was fear and melancholy in his eyes.He was never fully drunk, and he was never fully sober.He's always with a whore, and the whore is clearly trying to squeeze him as much as possible.And now he is sitting there with two middle-aged women covered in makeup; the two women are obviously laughing at him, and they don't intend to hide it; giggle.Prosperous life!In my opinion, he'd better stay at home and take that bitter medicine.One day, the woman will squeeze him dry, and at that time, there will be only one way for him to drown himself or kill himself by taking sleeping pills.

Between two and three, business picks up a bit, probably because the nightclubs are closed.A group of young Americans wandered in, drunk and rowdy, but left soon after.Not far from us, two fat, sullen-faced women in men's tight attire sat side by side, drinking whiskey and soda in silence and glumly.There came a group of people in evening dress, what is called gens du monde in French [Note], obviously wandering around, and now looking for a place for supper, to end.They come and go.A small man, plainly dressed, sat for more than an hour with a glass of beer in front of him, reading a newspaper.This man piqued my curiosity.He had a neat black beard and pince-nez.Finally a woman came in and sat with him.

He nodded to the woman without affection.I guess he was probably angry because the woman kept him waiting.The woman was young, poorly dressed, but well-painted and tired-looking.After a while, I saw the woman hand him something from her purse.money!He looked at it, and his face sank.I couldn't hear what he said to the woman, but from the way the woman looked, it was probably insulting, and she seemed to be trying to excuse herself. Suddenly, he leaned over and slapped the woman loudly.She yelped, whimpering and crying. The manager heard the noise and came to see what was going on.He seemed to be telling them that if they didn't play by the rules, they'd get out.

The woman turned to the manager and told him, in a high-pitched obscenity, not to mind his own business, in order to be heard. "He slapped me because I asked for it," she said aloud. These women!In the past, I always thought that if a person wants to rely on prostitution, he must be strong, good-looking and sexy, ready to use a knife or pull out a pistol at any time; I never thought that such a short and petty guy, from the outside, might be just a lawyer A small clerk in the office can find a place to intervene in this overcrowded profession. six The waiter who waits on our table is off duty; bring the bill in order to get the tip.We paid and ordered coffee.

"How?" I said. I think Larry has the heart to go on, and I know I have the heart to go on. "Don't I bore you?" "No." "Okay. I have arrived in Bombay. The boat will stop in Bombay for three days, so that tourists can take a look around and take a short trip. On the third day, I will not be on duty in the afternoon, so I will go ashore. I walked around , look at the crowds: what a mixed bag! Chinese, Muslims, Hindus, Tamils ​​as black as your hat; and those humpbacked bulls with two long horns pulling carts! Later I went to Shixiang Mountain and visited that cave[note].

An Indian who took our ship from Alexandria to Bombay was not thought highly of by the tourists.He was a short, fat man with a round tan face and a suit of heavy black and green checked tweed with a clerical collar.One night, while I was getting some air on the deck, he came up and had a conversation with me.It so happened that I didn't want to talk to anyone at that time, I wanted to be alone; he asked me a lot of questions, and I'm afraid I was a little rude to him.Anyway, I told him that I was a student, and I was working on the ship in order to save some travel expenses back to the United States. "'You should stop in India,' he said. 'The East can teach the West more than the West imagines.'" 'Really? 'I say. "'Anyway,' he went on, 'you must see the cave in Stone Mountain. You will never regret it.'" Larry interrupted himself to ask me a question. "Have you ever been to India?" "Never." "Well, I was looking at that gigantic three-headed god statue, which is a gigantic spectacle of the Stone Statue Mountain, and when I couldn't figure out what it meant, I heard someone behind me say, 'So you have accepted my advice.' I turned around Turning around, I saw at a glance who was talking to me. It was the short man in the heavy tweed suit and the collar of the priest, but now, he was wearing a saffron robe; Written by the elders of the Ramakrishna church. He is no longer the funny-looking squeaking little man he used to be. He is very stylish and pompous. We are all staring at the huge bust at the same time Look. "'Brahma, creator,' he said. 'Vishnu, sustainer; Shiva, destroyer. Three manifestations of the Absolute Spirit.' "'I don't quite understand you,' I said. "'That's not surprising,' he replied, with a smile on his lips and a wink of his eyes, as if mocking me. 'A God who can be understood is not God.How can the infinite be expressed in language? " "He put his palms together and bowed slightly, then walked away. He left me looking at the three mysterious heads. Maybe I was in a state of humility and acceptance, and I felt very excited. You know, sometimes, people are reminiscing about a The case of the name; the name is on the lips, but you just can’t say it: that’s how I felt at the time. After I came out of the cave, I sat on the stone steps for a long, long time, looking at the sea. My whole story about Brahmanism Knowledge is only those poems of Emerson, and now I try to recite them, but I can't. It annoys me. When I go back to Bombay, I go into a bookshop to see if I can find any books for these Poetry. Originally in "Oxford English Poems". Do you remember? They brushed me off because they miscalculated, they evaded me, I am the wings: I am the doubter, I am the doubter, I am the hymn sung by the Brahmins. "I ate dinner at a local restaurant, then walked around the parade ground, looking out to sea, because I could play until ten o'clock on the boat. I don't think I've ever seen so many stars in the sky. After a hot day, the evening The bench is very useful. I found a park and sat down on a bench. It was dark in the park, and silent white figures came and went around me. It was a magical day with bright sunlight and colorful lights. The noisy crowd, the pungent and fragrant oriental scents, intoxicated me; and the huge heads of the three Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva were like an object that the painter uses to give his composition completeness. Or a piece of color, giving it all a mysterious meaning. My heart started beating wildly, because I suddenly felt deeply that India could give me something that I must have. It was like An opportunity was presented to me, and I either took it at once or lost it forever. I quickly made up my mind that I would not return to the ship. I left nothing on board except a traveling bag with a few things in it. I walked slowly back to the local neighborhood to see if there were any hotels; soon found one and asked for a room. All I had was the clothes I was wearing, a little change, a passport and a withdrawal letter: I felt very free, lol . "The boat leaves at eleven o'clock; just to be on the safe side, I didn't leave the room until eleven o'clock. I walked to the pier and watched the boat sail out. Then I went to the Ramakrishna Church and visited the priest who lived on the statue mountain. The elder I was talking to. I don't know his name, but I said I wanted to see the elder who had just come from Alexandria. I told him I decided to stay in India and asked him what he should see. We talked After a long time, he finally said that he was going to Benares that night and asked me if I would go with him. I jumped up for joy. It was a third-class car for two people. The car was full of people, eating, Drinking, talking, and the heat was unbearable. I didn't close my eyes all night; the next morning, I was quite tired, but the elder was as fresh as a daisy. I asked him how it happened, and he said:' By studying Chaos; I find rest in the Absolute." I don't know what to think, but I can see for myself that he feels as refreshed as if he'd had a good night's sleep in a comfortable bed. "At last Benares has arrived. A young man about my own age came to meet my companion; the elder ordered him to find me a house to live in. His name was Mahendra, and he was a teacher at the University. He was honest and wise. , I like me very much; I also like him very much. That evening, he took me to take a boat to swim the Ganges; this was an eye-opener for me. but next morning he had something better to show me. Before daybreak he came to the hotel to wake me up and took me to the river again. I could hardly believe what I saw My own eyes: Thousands of people came to the water to wash away the evil bath and pray. I saw a tall, thin guy with shaggy hair and a beard, wearing only a belt to cover his penis, standing there stretching out Two long arms, raised head, praying aloud to the rising sun. I can't describe to you the impression I got. I stayed in Benares for six months, and at dawn, I went to the Ganges several times To see such a rare spectacle. I will never forget this spectacle. Those people were not at all skeptical, not at all reserved, or half skeptical. "Everyone is very kind to me. Once they found out that I didn't come here to hunt tigers or do business, but to study, they tried their best to help me. They were very happy that I wanted to learn Hindustan and found me Sir. They lend me books; they never tire of answering my questions. Do you know anything about Hinduism?" "Very limited," I replied. "I used to think that you would be interested. Hinduism believes that the universe has no beginning and no end, but always grows to balance, from balance to decline, from decline to disintegration, from disintegration to growth, and so on to infinity; What insight could be greater than this?" "What do the Hindus see as the purpose of this endless cycle?" "I think they'd say that's the nature of the absolute. You know, they believe that life and death are stages whose purpose is to punish or reward the soul for past life actions." "This is the theory of reincarnation." "Two-thirds of mankind believe in this doctrine." "Just because lots and lots of people believe it doesn't guarantee it's the truth." "No, but at least it's worth taking seriously. Christianity has absorbed a lot of Neoplatonism, and it may have conveniently absorbed reincarnation in the first place; in fact, there was an early Christian sect that believed in reincarnation, but was declared heretical .If it were not for this reason, Christians would be as convinced of reincarnation as they are of the resurrection of Jesus." "Does reincarnation mean that the soul transfers from one body to another and goes through it endlessly based on the merits and demerits of previous lives?" "I guess so." "But, you know, I'm not only my soul, but also my body. Who can say how much of what I am is what my body happened to do. Byron didn't just happen to have a misshapen foot. Is it Byron? Wasn't Dostoevsky Dostoevsky because he happened to have epilepsy? " "Indians don't like to say it's a coincidence. They'll say it was something you did in a previous life that put your soul into a mutilated body." Larry tapped his fingers on the table, eyes wandering blankly. Preoccupied.Later, with a smile on his lips and a thoughtful look in his eyes, he continued: "Have you ever thought that reincarnation is not only the explanation for evil in the world, but also the reason for the existence of evil? If the evil retribution we suffer is the sin we committed in our previous life As a result, we will bear it submissively, and try to do good in this life, so that we will suffer less in the next life. But it is easier to bear the evil for ourselves, as long as we earn a little; what is unbearable is seeing others suffer, And these sufferings often seem to be undeserved. If you can convince yourself that this is the sin of your previous life, you can pity others and try your best to alleviate their pain, and this should be the case, but you have no reason to complain or be injustice.” "But why didn't God create in the first place a world free from pain and unhappiness, so that man can decide his actions without merit or demerit?" "Hindus will say that there is no beginning. The individual soul exists with the heaven and the earth. Since ancient times, its good and evil have been determined by its previous existence." "So does believing in the theory of reincarnation have any practical impact on people's lives? After all, the test lies in this." "I think it has had an impact. I can tell you about an acquaintance of mine. The theory of reincarnation must have had a very real impact on his life. During the first two or three years of my stay in India, I mostly stayed in local hotels, but some From time to time, I was also invited to live in his home, and once or twice I was a guest at the home of a wealthy native. Through a friend of mine in Benares, I was invited to live in a small northern land.The capital is lovely; 'a pink city half as old as it was'.A friend introduced me to a finance minister; he was European educated and had studied at Oxford.When talking to him, you get the impression of an educated, progressive, enlightened man, well known as an extremely able minister and shrewd statesman.He wore a suit and looked neat; rather handsome, like most Indians in middle age, with a slightly stout body and a well-trimmed upper beard.He often invites me to his house.There is a big garden at home, and we often sit and chat in the shade of a big tree.He has a wife and two grown children.You'd see him as just an ordinary, fairly ordinary, Anglicized Indian, so one day I found out he was going to resign his well-paying job at fifty and turn his fortune over a year later. To wife and children, to be a dervish and to wander around, can't help being amazed.But what is even more surprising is that his friends, as well as the Tubang Lord, considered the matter to be a foregone conclusion, and regarded it as a natural thing, rather than some extraordinary behavior. "One day, I said to him: 'You are a very open-minded person, and you have seen the world, read thousands of books, science, philosophy, literature-do you really believe in reincarnation?'" His The whole expression changed, and it was completely the face of a prophet. "'My dear friend,' he said, 'if I did not believe in reincarnation, life would mean nothing to me.'" "So you believe it, Larry?" I asked. "That's a hard question to answer. I don't think we in the West can believe it with the heart of our hearts as we in the East. It is with them by flesh and blood; for us it can only be an opinion.I neither believe nor disbelieve. " He paused, looking at the table with his face in his hands; then he leaned back. "I want to tell you that I had a very strange experience. At that time, I was in Ashrama; one night, in my own small room, I practiced Shan according to the way my Indian friend taught me. I ordered A candle, concentrating on the flame; after a while I saw clearly through the flame a long series of figures. At the head was an elderly woman with a lace hat on her head, Wearing a pair of gray earrings, a black bodice and a black silk skirt, probably the kind worn in the 1970s; she stood there, facing me, with an elegant and modest attitude, her arms hanging down her body , with the palm facing me. A wrinkled face with an air of amiability. Immediately behind her was a tall, thin Jew, leaning so that I could only see his profile; He has a hooked nose, thick lips, a yellow dungaree, a yellow cap, and thick dark hair. He has the air of a thoughtful scholar, serious and emotional at the same time. . Behind him was a young man, but with his face turned towards me as if there was no one between us, with a ruddy and cheerful complexion, who was at once recognizable as a sixteenth-century Englishman.He stood upright, with his legs slightly apart, with a strong and arrogant expression; his whole body was dressed in red, as gorgeous as a court dress; he wore wide-toed black velvet shoes on his feet, and a black velvet flat hat on his head.Behind these three people, there was a long line of countless people, like a long line outside a movie theater, but their faces were blurred and their faces could not be seen clearly.I just feel their vague shape and the undulating motion of the summer wind blowing through the wheat fields.In no time, whether it was a minute, or five, or ten, they slowly disappeared into the darkness of night, leaving only the steady flame of the candle. " Larry smiled. "Of course it could be that I'm falling asleep or dreaming. It could be that I'm concentrating on that faint flame and putting me into a kind of hypnotic state, while the three people I see as clearly as you are just kept in the subconscious But it could be me in a previous life; maybe not so many years ago I was an old lady in New England, and before that a Jew in the Isle of Levant, and some years before that , was a man of honor at the court of King Henry's Dauphine not long after Sebastian Cabot sailed from Bristol." "How did your friend in the pink city end?" "Two years later I went to a place called Madura in the south; one night someone touched my arm in the temple; and when I turned around, I saw a man with a beard and long hair, only around his waist. I took a piece of cloth, a walking stick and a saint's alms bowl. I didn't recognize who it was until he spoke, and it turned out to be my friend. I was so shocked that I didn't know what to say. He asked me what I had done in the past two years What, I told him. He asked where I was going, and I said Travancore; he told me to meet Siri Ganesh. 'He will teach you what you seek.' I asked him to talk This man, he just smiled and said that he knew everything when he met. At that time, I was used to these things, so I asked him what he was doing in Madura. He said that he was trekking around India for pilgrimage. I asked him about food and lodging How to solve it. He told me that if someone is willing to sleep, he sleeps on the balcony, and if he has nowhere to sleep, he sleeps under a tree, or in a temple; Look at him and say 'you've lost weight'. He laughed and said he felt better about being thin.Then he bid me farewell, and it was funny to hear this man with only a piece of cloth around his waist speak to me in English 'Well so long, old chap'[Note]—then he went into the inner room of the temple, That's out of my reach. "I stayed in Madura for a period of time. This temple is probably the only temple in India where white people can walk around freely. Only the most holy part of the temple cannot enter. After dark, the temple is full of people, men and women, big and small. The size is small. The men wear a loincloth with bare arms, and the forehead, often even the chest and arms, are covered with white ash left over from cow dung. You see them worshiping before this or that shrine, sometimes prostrate on the ground, face down, in a prostration.They prayed and recited the litany; they called to each other, greeted, bickered, argued passionately. There was an evil clamor, and yet, for no apparent reason, God seemed near and alive. "You pass through many long halls, the roofs of which are supported by sculptural pillars, and close to the bottom of the pillars sits a fakir: before each is an alms bowl, or a small mat, so that the devout Every now and then a coin is thrown. Some of them are clothed, some are almost naked. Some stare at you as you pass by; I want to look for my friend among them, but I can't see him now. Presumably he has already started his scheduled itinerary." "what is that?" "No more falling into samsara. According to the Vedas, the Self, which they call Atman and we call Soul, is not the same as the body and its sensations, nor the mind and its intellect; it is not the Absolute A part, for the Absolute, being infinite, cannot have parts but itself. The soul is not created; It originally went infinitely. It is like a drop of water evaporated from the sea, falling into a pool after a rain, and then flowing into a stream, entering a river, passing through steep canyons and vast plains, twists and turns, surrounded by rocks and forests, and finally arrived at The infinite sea from which it rose." "But this poor drop of water must lose its individuality when it becomes one with the sea again." Larry grinned. "Taste the taste of sugar, and do not become sugar. What is individuality but the expression of our egoism? Unless the soul is rid of the last vestiges of egoism, it cannot become one with the Absolute." .” "You speak of the Absolute very familiarly, Larry, and it's a very high-sounding term. What does it mean to you?" "Reality. You can't say what it is, and you can't say what it isn't. It is inexpressible. India calls it Brahma. It is omnipresent and omnipresent. Everything contains it, borrows it. It It is not a person, not a thing, not a cause. It has no attributes. It is above permanence and change, whole and part, finite and infinite. It is eternal because its perfection is independent of time.It is truth and freedom. " "My God!" I thought in my stomach, but said to Larry, "but how can a purely intellectual idea be a consolation to a suffering human being? Man always asks for a personal God, so that in times of suffering Pray for comfort and encouragement." "Perhaps in the distant future, through greater insight, man will one day see that he can only find comfort and encouragement in his own soul. I myself thought that the worship of a personal God was a barbaric remnant of ancient times invoking cruel gods. .I believe that God is only in my heart and nowhere else. If so, who should I worship? Myself? There are different stages of human spiritual development, so in the Indian imagination, the Absolute is expressed as Brahma, Vishnu, Shiva, and a hundred other names. Absolute in 'Freedom' (i.e. Cosmos), who is the creator and ruler of the world, and in those humble gods[Note], Those lowly fetishes to which the peasant in the sun-baked field lays a flower. The multiplicity of gods in India are but means to the union of the ego with the supreme self." I looked at Larry thoughtfully. "I don't know what makes you yearn for such austere beliefs," I said. "I think I can tell you. I've always found there's something pathetic about the founders of those religions, because they made it a condition of your salvation to believe in them. It seems as if they depended on your faith to be confident about themselves." Faith. This reminds you of those ancient pagan gods who, without the sacrifices of believers, would grow haggard. Vedanta's Advaita philosophy does not require you to accept anything by faith; it only requires you to a burning desire to know reality; it asserts that you can feel God as surely as you feel pleasure or pain. And there are many people in India today—hundreds and thousands I know of—who profess to have done Up to this point. I am very satisfied with the idea that man can reach the highest reality through knowledge. In the later period, the saints of India, in view of the weakness of human beings, admitted that there is also liberation through love and through work, but they never The highest and most difficult path to denial is through knowledge, for the instrument of knowledge is man's most precious faculty, his reason."