《巴黎的忧郁》
Before the before
I have written the text below as a front matter for a recollection of events unfolded at Paris. However, as I have lately discovered, the front matter is far more valuable than the actual article itself. I decided to include only the front matter for now. Another reason for this act may be the adoption of the story into my PS for college application. This made me feel that the story can no longer be told in the tones I aspire, as my original story calls for mental pureness. Therefore here’s the foreword for the article titling Le Spleen De Paris.
Special thanks to Winston for translation of the text, however I must note that he modified the original text during translation.
写在前面
我下定决心要记录一段自导自演的戏剧。对这一词汇的使用来源于我们对于莎士比亚的误读，因此我在此处指出我误读出的含义：我在情感的演进中故意用书面语自言自语，因为我知道在我未来的人生中我注定会想起此刻并记录。我的记录从而成为了一场戏剧的落幕，一场记叙过去的时刻的戏剧的落幕。对当下的记录使得过去的瞬间变得具有前因后果。这一戏谑的态度看似是虚伪和做作的，可我不想说我不真诚，因为当代赋予我们的早熟性使我们不可避免地把生活变成一场戏剧，把我们自己变成戏剧的主角。我们思绪所处的空间好似一片被污染的海洋，其中充斥着排泄出的过剩信息，思绪就好比蓝藻，浸泡在营养过剩的海洋中使其爆发为赤潮。（我故意使用赤潮这一不高明的双关语，但这一赤潮不再是马克思主义的浪漫想象，而是生物学的事实。）正是在戏剧中，伴随着我们意识到我们生活的虚伪，我们必定要如同骑士一般的夺回生活的真实。我相信诸位都会想起堂吉诃德向风车的冲锋，那么就让我使用这个意象作为例子：堂吉诃德的行为乍一看是戏剧性的，事实上在一开始也的确如此，然而随着故事的推进，塞万提斯不可避免地意识到堂吉诃德荒唐的行为恰巧蕴含着真实，那么堂吉诃德的冲锋变成了真正的冲锋，比现实中的骑士更加真诚。于是我恳请我自己和诸位不要把这场戏剧当成单纯的高中生式的幻想，尽管这也无妨，但是我依旧确信我们能从中找到骑士的勇气。
Foreword
Again, Special thanks to Winston for translation of the text, however I must note that he modified the original text during translation.
I find it true to my heart that I will in time come to conceive my own work of my own design and of my own production. Mayhaps such a newfound passion is born off of my hopeless misinterpretation of Shakespeare’s concepts and his style: I may use formal utterances to twist my proceedings of faith and ardor, rigid in the belief of my own memorability and my future laboring. I hope in truth, as I scribe down the course of my life, if I ever do, it will be as I stand over the precipice of the primordial void, and thus as such a catalogue would surely be at the moment this play of life makes its curtain call, that everything would be illuminated in an instant. I refrain to point out my incredulity, but the early ripening society has enforced upon the individual inevitably turns the life and the past and the now into a satirical farce, tragedies and comedies of our own making, with every one of us as a protagonist. The projections of the mind seem to be close in resemblance of that red tide which is the explosion of Cyanobacteria in nutrient-full waters, overflowing the bounds of the human imagination into the realms of reality. In the throes of artistic expression, we are hit with the loss of what is genuine in life, and therefore we must take up the mantle of the heralds of originality. I believe such an analogy warrants the allusion to the symbol charge of Don Quixote against the looming giant of his imagination. His dreams of heroism and adversity may appear to be dramatic and unreciprocated in the context of our everyday lives. It seems this way in the story too, yet, as the story proceeds and the urges to charge against the imaginary enemy intensifies, Cervantes recognized an inevitability: Don Quixote’s charges are rooted in the protection of what is real. Therefore, his charges, once whimsical and fantastical, have become courageous in every sense of the word, even more so than any real knight in all of history. I implore myself and dear sires not to degrade such aspirations as the baseless spiritual ideal of a squabbling adolescent, and yet I profess that I would not be much bothered if one were to dismiss it as such, for we might find the audacity of Don Quixote in every one of us.