奥门新萄京娱乐场 > www.3730.com > 自家想要的活着,是让她见到了成长的伪善与倒

原标题:自家想要的活着,是让她见到了成长的伪善与倒

浏览次数:109 时间:2019-08-24

那部影片拍得丰盛好了。即使本质走漏后的一切如同过于轻松而名正言顺。不过电影不是人生,真正的人生比影片能够多了。

幼女还真是难养啊,得时刻堤防着各个大灰狼怪姑丈,做父母的愈发得时时警惕着协调别走错了路看走了眼,还得拼尽全力给他挣下玄妙的生活加大她的所看到的和听到的。BTW ,真人好玩的事貌似更加精良带劲儿,假设拍出来,石黄系青娥牌也是蛮吸引人的。事实是:她并不爱他,她尚未爱过她,她爱的是她给她带来的辅导:上等餐厅,艺术,古玩,收藏品,古典音乐。从某种程度上,她用自个儿的岁月,青春,和纯洁性换成了耳目。她能够一边冷冰冰地做她的女对象,享受他带给他的生存,对她疑忌的背景视若无睹,直到他爱他到向他表白;同有的时候候,读他的书,考他的试,得到能够轻巧进德克萨斯奥斯汀分校的好成绩。On the evening after my last A-level, 西蒙 took me out to dinner and proposed. I had wanted him to propose, as proof of my power, but I had absolutely no intention of accepting because of course I was going to Oxford.电影里还没讲的是,她进加州圣地亚哥分校之后,老男士拜托高校的奶母传纸条给她约她吃晚餐。然后呢,她去Merton(是伊利诺伊香槟分校最佳的高校)找来她男朋友,五个人一道去赴宴。哇塞精粹极了!

那部电影改编自大不列颠及英格兰联合王国女新闻报道人员 Lynn Barber 的纪念录。拾陆周岁这个时候,她人生的举世无双目的、她处在下层中产阶级的爹娘多年来的并世无双愿意,是让他考上加州戴维斯分校高校。某一天在雨中等公汽回家的他,引起了二个开着烁烁超跑的男子的主张,上前说能够搭载她――的大提琴回家。这几个比他大过多的洒脱不羁男子,从此不唯有成了他的男友,带他进来了叁个簇新的世界:食堂、音乐厅、夜总会、巴黎,况且还成了她家的座上客。詹妮的双亲对那几个谈吐儒雅、举止阔绰却境遇模糊的David的喜爱,就像是比他更甚。当她向她求亲时,珍妮尚在徘徊不决之中,她的大人却承诺得这些尽情。然则从始至终,大家总是认为David来路远远不够明确,有着狐疑的战略。

看完电影版《成长教育(An Education)》后,意犹未尽,于是找来LynnBarber的原来的书文看,概况来讲,电影其实不比自传美貌,但一众歌手更是是女主(CareyMulligan)的推理极其出色。笔者希图再讲述三次那几个典故,只怕也说一说同名电影。
Lynn Barber在自传《An Education》中想起了她的生平,从襁緥、青春期到就读佐治亚理工、与男朋友David结婚,及其工作、病魔等等,电影剧本拍录的要害是第二章,在他年轻少艾时碰着的老男士给她上过的一课,当然,我们也足以称其为 a young lady’s love story,但是,哪个人知道在那之中到底有几分爱吗。在《卫报》上,还是可以收看这段典故——

Observer writer and interviewer Lynn Barber was an innocent 16-year-old schoolgirl when she met an older man and began a relationship that lasted two years. By day she was a diligent student; by night 'Simon' charmed her with dazzling stories, expensive restaurants and foreign films. And then came a rude awakening. In this exclusive extract from her memoir - now made into a film starring Carey Mulligan and Rosamund Pike - she describes her introduction to an adult world of sexuality and betrayal and how she was damaged by her suitor's lessons in life

稍加发掘了一晃原文作者Lynn Barber的轶事,发掘比影片里讲的精良100倍。

女配角所面前境遇的“教训”,能够说是多层的,最简便易行是毫无被人的外界所期骗,更加深一层的震慑,是让他见到了成长的虚伪与背叛――她对大人的非议是“小女孩子被人骗,你们都是老人了,怎么也把自身往火坑里推?”那一点在 Lynn Barber 的原来的文章中说得愈加清楚,她认为最大的妨害,是源于他的父老妈:十几年困苦培育他上加州理工,教育她要独立有智慧等等,有钱人一现身,就立刻忘了富有大道理,把外孙女推向他的心怀。

那是一九五八年,Lynn17虚岁,女权主义还不及当今那样有目共睹,即使如此,在《妇女参与政务论者(凯雷Mulligan担纲的另一部影片)》中,大家也早就看到一九一四年London女子的的清醒和争夺。就在那年,青娥Lynn蒙受了壹个人大巧若拙男人,Simon,他们的交接颇为戏剧。

I met Simon Goldman in 1960 when I was 16 and he was - he said - 27, but was probably in his late 30s. I was waiting for a bus home to Twickenham after a rehearsal at Richmond Little Theatre, when a sleek maroon car drew up and a man with a big cigar in his mouth leant over to the passenger window and said, "Want a lift?" Of course my parents had told me, my teachers had told me, everyone had told me, never to accept lifts from strange men, but at that stage he didn't seem strange, and I hopped in. I liked the smell of his cigar and the leather seats. He asked where I wanted to go and I said Clifden Road, and he said fine. I told him I had never seen a car like this before, and he said it was a Bristol, and very few were made. He told me lots of facts about Bristols as we cruised - Bristols always cruised - towards Twickenham. He had a funny accent - later, when I knew him better, I realised it was the accent he used for posh - but I asked if he was foreign. He said: "Only if you count Jews as foreign." Well of course I did. I had never consciously met a Jew; I didn't think we had them at my school. But I said politely: "Are you Jewish? I never would have guessed." (I meant he didn't have the hooked nose, the greasy ringlets, the straggly beard of Shylock in the school play.) He said he had lived in Israel when he was "your age". I wondered what he thought my age was: I hoped he thought 19. But then when he said, "Fancy a coffee?" I foolishly answered, "No - my father will kill me if I'm late." "School tomorrow?" he asked, and, speechless with mortification, I could only nod. So then he drove me to my house, and asked: "Can I take you out for coffee another evening?"

介绍下背景。那是LynnBarber自己的足履实地传说。她即便曾在大不列颠及北爱尔兰联合王国London桐城市(其实正是萨里)读入眼中学(Grammar School),拿杰出成绩,一心要进南洋理工读丹麦语的十六周岁能够女上学的小孩子。她和老男子之间的故事,老男生的职业,老男士的心上大家(Danny和Helen),老男子有内人,满含老男生的姓(高尔德man)都或多或少不假。

女配角 Jenny 的扮演者 Carey Mulligan 无疑会凭本片成为一颗艺人。她的剧中人物,在二个智慧辛勤的女郎,和二个打扮出来的半边天之间的退换,非常相信。电影所显示的Jenny与David之间的关系,是相比较复杂的。并非“无知识青年娥遇流氓”那么粗略,Jenny不止知晓 大卫的谎言,况兼救助她向双亲撒谎。与其说他爱上了大卫,不比说是她爱上了这几个男子所表示的有滋有味使人陶醉的成才世界。她是一个构思超越年龄的女孩,CareyMulligan 的演出,表现了女二号性子的相互:三个“看人看走了眼”的良书童女,和五个内心永恒有一块无人能够克服的土地的自信女子。

练习甘休的Lynn在雨天的公共交通车站候车回家,一辆新型的褐湖蓝汽车驶过来,开车的多谋善算者男子嘴叼雪茄停车探头,他问Lynn是或不是要搭一程便车。作为及时中产家庭的幼童,父母和教育工我训导珠圆玉润,不要搭面生人的顺风车,然则Lynn一贯不是三个任人摆布的洋娃娃,并且在那一刻,她以为对方并不目生( “but at that stage he didn't seem strange” ),于是欣然上车。后来大家了解,那样的遭逢和选取,就如是Lynn成长的必经之途,十分受其家花潮学院生活的熏陶。

奥门新萄京娱乐场,My life might have turned out differently if I had just said no. But I was not quite rude enough. Instead, I said I was very busy rehearsing a play which meant that, unfortunately, I had no free evenings. He asked what play, and I said The Lady's Not for Burning at Richmond Little Theatre. Arriving for the first night a couple of weeks later, I found an enormous bouquet in the dressing room addressed to me. The other actresses, all grown-ups, were mewing with envy and saying, "Those flowers must have cost a fortune." When I left the theatre, hours later, I saw the Bristol parked outside and went over to say thank you. He said: "Can't we have our coffee now?" and I said no, because I was late again, but he could drive me home. I wasn't exactly rushing headlong into this relationship; he was far too old for me to think of as a boyfriend. On the other hand, I had always fantasised about having an older man, someone even more sophisticated than me, to impress the little squirts of Hampton Grammar. So I agreed to go out with him on Friday week, though I warned that he would have to undergo a grilling from my father.
My father's grillings were notorious among the Hampton Grammar boys. He wanted to know what marks they got at O-level, what A-levels they were taking, what universities they were applying to. He practically made them sit an IQ test before they could take me to the flicks. But this time, for once, my father made no fuss at all. He asked where Simon and I had met; I said at Richmond Little Theatre, and that was that. He seemed genuinely impressed by Simon, and even volunteered that we could stay out till midnight. So our meeting for coffee turned into dinner, and with my father's blessing.
Simon took me to an Italian place in Marylebone and of course I was dazzled. I had never been to a proper restaurant before, only to tea rooms with my parents. I didn't understand the menu, but I loved the big pepper grinders and the heavy cutlery, the crêpes suzettes and the champagne. I was also dazzled by Simon's conversation. Again, I understood very little of it, partly because his accent was so strange, but also because it ranged across places and activities I could hardly imagine. My knowledge of the world was based on Shakespeare, Jane Austen, George Eliot and the Brontes, and none of them had a word to say about living on a kibbutz or making Molotov cocktails. I felt I had nothing to bring to the conversational feast and blushed when Simon urged me to tell him about my schoolfriends, my teachers, my prize-winning essays. I didn't realise then that my being a schoolgirl was a large part of my attraction.
Over the next few weeks, it became an accepted thing that Simon would turn up on Friday or Saturday nights to take me to the West End. Sometimes we went to the Chelsea Classic to see foreign films; sometimes he took me to concerts at the Wigmore or Royal Festival Hall, but mostly we went to restaurants. The choice of restaurants seemed to be dictated by mysterious visits Simon had to make on the way. He would say, "I've just got to pop into Prince's Gate", and would disappear into one of the white cliff-like houses while I would wait in the car. Sometimes the waiting was very long, and I learnt to take a book on all our dates. Once, I asked if I could come in with him, but he said, "No, this is business", and I never asked again.
Besides taking me out at weekends, Simon would sometimes drop in during the week when he said he was "just passing". (Why was he passing Twickenham? Where was he going? I never asked.) On these occasions, he would stay chatting to my parents, sometimes for an hour or more, about news or politics - subjects of no interest to me. Often the three of them were so busy talking they didn't even notice if I left the room. I found this extraordinary. It was quite unprecedented in our house for me not to be the centre of attention.
Perhaps I should explain about my parents. They were first-generation immigrants to the middle class and all their hopes were invested in me, their only child. They had no relatives in London, and no friends who ever came to the house - my father had his bridge club, my mother her amateur dramatics, but all they talked about at home was me, and specifically my schoolwork. My father often quoted Charles Kingsley's line "Be good, sweet maid, and let who will be clever", but he said it sarcastically - he wanted me to be clever, and let who will be good. I had been reared from the cradle to pass every possible exam, gain every possible scholarship and go to the best possible university. By the time I met Simon, I was well on track. I had a scholarship to an independent school, Lady Eleanor Holles, a royal flush of O-levels, and my teachers predicted that I would easily win a place at Oxford to read English. But still my parents fretted and worried. Their big fear was that my Latin would "let me down".
自家想要的活着,是让她见到了成长的伪善与倒戈。Simon in theory represented everything my parents most feared - he was not one of us, he was Jewish and cosmopolitan, practically a foreigner. He wore cashmere sweaters and suede shoes; he drove a pointlessly expensive car; he didn't work in an office; he was vague about where he went to school and, worst of all, boasted that he had been educated in "the university of life" - not a teaching establishment my parents recognised. And yet, inexplicably, they liked him. In fact, they liked him more than I ever liked him, perhaps because he took great pains to make them like him. He brought my mother flowers and my father wine; he taught them to play backgammon; he chatted to them endlessly and seemed genuinely interested in their views. I suppose it made a change for them from always talking about me.
Yet none of us ever really knew a thing about him. I think my parents once asked where he lived and he said "South Kensington", but that was it. I never had a phone number for him, still less an address. As for what he did, he was "a property developer" - a term I suspect meant as little to my parents as it did to me. I knew it was somehow connected with these visits he had to make, the great bunches of keys he carried, the piles of surveyors' reports and auction catalogues in the back of his car, and the occasional evenings when he had to "meet Perec" which meant cruising around Bayswater looking for Perec (Peter) Rachman's Roller parked outside one of his clubs. Rachman would later give his name to Rachmanism when the press exposed him as the worst of London's exploitative landlords, but at that time he was just one of Simon's many mysterious business colleagues.
Simon was adept at not answering questions, but actually he rarely needed to, because I never asked them. The extent to which I never asked him questions is astonishing in retrospect - I blame Albert Camus. My normal instinct was to bombard people with questions, to ask about every detail of their lives. But just around the time I met Simon I became an existentialist, and one of the rules of existentialism as practised by me and my disciples at Lady Eleanor Holles School was that you never asked questions. Asking questions showed that you were naïve and bourgeois; not asking questions showed that you were sophisticated and French. I badly wanted to be sophisticated. And, as it happened, this suited Simon fine. My role in the relationship was to be the schoolgirl ice maiden, implacable, ungrateful, unresponsive to everything he said or did. To ask questions would have shown that I was interested in him, even that I cared, and neither of us really wanted that.
Simon established early on that I was a virgin, and seemed quite happy about it. He asked when I intended to lose my virginity and I said: "17", and he agreed this was the ideal age. He said it was important not to lose my virginity in some inept fumble with a grubby schoolboy, but with a sophisticated older man. I heartily agreed - though, unlike him, I had no particular older man in mind. He certainly didn't seem like a groper. I was used to Hampton Grammar boys who turned into octopuses in the cinema dark, clamping damp tentacles to your breast. Simon never did that. Instead, he kissed me long and gently and said: "I love to look into your eyes." When he kissed me, he called me Minn and said I was to call him Bubl but I usually forgot. Eventually, one night, he said, "I'd love to see your breasts", so I grudgingly unbuttoned my blouse and allowed him to peep inside my bra. But this was still well within the Lady Eleanor Holles dating code - by rights, given the number of hot dinners he'd bought me, he could really have taken my bra right off.
And then one day, on one of his drop-in visits, Simon said he was going to Wales next weekend to visit some friends and could I go with him? I confidently expected my parents to say no - to go away, overnight, with a man I barely knew? - but instead they said yes, though my father added jocularly, "Separate rooms, of course." "Of course," said Simon. So off we went for the first of many dirty weekends. I hated Wales, hated the grim hotel, the sour looks when Simon signed us in. We shared a room, of course, and shared a bed, but Simon only kissed me and said: "Save it till you're 17." After that, there were many more weekends - Paris, Amsterdam, Bruges, and often Sark in the Channel Islands, because Simon liked the hotel there, and I liked stocking up on my exciting new discovery, Sobranie Black Russian cigarettes. They brought my sophistication on by leaps and bounds.
As my 17th birthday approached, I knew that my debt of dinners and weekends could only be erased by "giving" Simon my virginity. He talked for weeks beforehand about when, where, how it should be achieved. He thought Rome, or maybe Venice; I thought as near as possible to Twickenham, in case I bled. In the end, it was a new trendy circular hotel - the Ariel? - by Heathrow airport, where we spent the night before an early morning flight to somewhere or other, I forget. He wanted to do a practice run with a banana - he had brought a banana specially. I said, "Oh for heaven's sake!", and told him to do it properly. He talked a lot about how he hoped Minn would do Bubl the honour of welcoming him into her home. Somewhere in the middle of the talking, he was inside me, and it was over. I thought: "Oh well, that was easy. Perhaps now I can get a proper boyfriend." (I think the word that best describes my entire sex life with Simon is negligible. He was a far from ardent lover - he seemed to enjoy waffling about Minn and Bubl more than actually doing anything. And whereas my games mistress was always bellowing across the changing room, "But you said it was your period last week!", Simon always took my word for it when I said that Minn was "indisposed".)
The affair - if it was an affair - drifted on, partly because no proper boyfriends showed up, partly because I had become used to my strange double life of schoolgirl swot during the week, restaurant-going, foreign-travelling sophisticate at weekends. And this life had alienated me from my schoolfriends: if they said, "Are you coming to Eel Pie Jazz Club on Saturday?", I would say: "No, I'm going to Paris with Simon." Of course my friends all clamoured to meet Simon, but I never let them. I was afraid of something - afraid perhaps that they would see through him, see, not the James Bond figure I had depicted, but this rather short, rather ugly, long-faced, splay-footed man who talked in different accents and lied about his age, whose stories didn't add up.
Because by now - a year into the relationship - I realised that there was a lot I didn't know about Simon. I knew his cars (he had several Bristols), and the restaurants and clubs he frequented, but I still didn't know where he lived. He took me to a succession of flats which he said were his, but often they were full of gonks and women's clothes and he didn't know where the light switches were. So these were other people's flats, or sometimes empty flats, in Bayswater, South Kensington, Gloucester Road. He seemed to have a limitless supply of them.
But by now there was a compelling reason for staying with Simon: I was in love. Not with Simon, obviously, but with his business partner, Danny, and his girlfriend, Helen. I loved them both equally. I loved their beauty, I loved their airy flat in Bedford Square where there was a harpsichord in the corner and pre-Raphaelites on the walls. At that time, few people in Britain admired the pre-Raphaelites, but Danny was one of the first, and I eagerly followed. He lent me books on Rossetti and Burne-Jones and Millais, and sometimes flattered me by showing me illustrations in auction catalogues and saying "What do you think? Should I make a bid?" I found it easy to talk to Danny; I could chatter away to him whereas with Simon I only sulked.
Helen was a different matter. She drifted around silently, exquisitely, a soulful Burne-Jones damsel half hidden in her cloud of red-gold hair. At first, I was so much in awe of her beauty I could barely speak to her. But gradually I came to realise that her silence was often a cover for not knowing what to say and that actually - I hardly liked to use the word about my goddess - she was thick. I was terrified that one day Danny would find out. And there were sometimes hints from Simon that Danny's interest in Helen might be waning, that there could be other girlfriends. Knowing this, keeping this secret, made me feel that it was crucial for me to go on seeing Helen, to protect her, because one day, when I was just a little older and more sophisticated, we could be best friends.
Simon always refused to talk about business to me ("Oh you don't want to know about that, Minn") but Danny had no such inhibitions. He loved telling me funny stories about the seething world of dodgy property dealers - the scams, the auction rings, the way the auctioneers sometimes tried to keep out the "Stamford Hill cowboys" by holding auctions on Yom Kippur or other Jewish holy days, and then the sight of all these Hasidic Jews in mufflers and dark glasses trying to bid without being seen. Or the great scam whereby they sold Judah Binstock a quarter acre of Ealing Common, without him realising that the quarter acre was only two yards wide. Through Danny, I learnt how Peter Rachman had seemingly solved the problem of "stats" - statutory or sitting tenants - who were the bane of 1960s property developers. The law gave them the right to stay in their flats at a fixed rent for life if they wanted - and they had a habit of living an awfully long time. But Rachman had certain robust methods, such as carrying out building works all round them, or taking the roof off, or "putting in the schwartzers" (West Indians) or filling the rest of the house with prostitutes, that made stats eager to move.
So I gathered from Danny that the property business in which Simon was involved was not entirely honest. But my first hint of other forms of dishonesty came about 15 months into the relationship when I went to a bookshop on Richmond Green. Simon had taken me there several times to buy me books of Jewish history and the works of Isaac Bashevis Singer - I was glad to have them, though I never read them. But on this occasion, I went alone and the bookdealer, who was normally so friendly, asked: "Where's your friend?"
"What friend?"
"Simon Prewalski."
"I don't know anyone of that name," I said truthfully.
"Well, whatever he calls himself. Tell him I'm fed up with his bouncing cheques - I've reported him to the police."
That evening I said to Simon" "Do you know anyone called Prewalski?"
自家想要的活着,是让她见到了成长的伪善与倒戈。"Yes - my mother, my grandparents, why?"
I told him what the book dealer had said.
Simon said: "Well don't go in there again. Or if you do, don't tell him you've seen me. Say we've broken up."
"But what did he mean about the bouncing cheques?"
"How should I know? Don't worry about it."
So that was a hint, or more than a hint. But soon there was unmistakable proof. Simon and Danny were buying up a street in Cambridge called Bateman Street, so we often stayed there. One weekend I was moaning - I was always moaning - "I'm bored with Bateman Street", so we drove out towards Newmarket. At a place called Six Mile Bottom, I saw a thatched cottage with a For Sale sign outside. "Look, how pretty," I said. "'Why can't you buy nice places like that, instead of horrible old slums?" "Perhaps we can," said Simon, so we bounced up to the cottage and an old lady showed us round. I was bored within minutes, but Simon seemed unconscionably interested in the bedroom corridor which he kept revisiting. Then I saw him going out to the car, carrying something. Eventually we left and went for lunch at a hotel in Newmarket. We were having a rather lugubrious meal when two men came into the dining room and one pointed the other towards our table. The man introduced himself as a detective. He said: "We've had a complaint from a Mrs so and so of Six Mile Bottom. She says a couple visited her cottage this morning and afterwards she noticed that a valuable antique map by Speed was missing from one of the bedrooms." "Oh, Simon!" I said. He shot me a look. "Perhaps we could have this conversation outside," he suggested. He went outside with the policeman. I waited a few minutes and then went to the Ladies, and out the back door and away down the street. I had just enough money for a train back to London. I hoped Simon would go to prison.
He didn't of course; he bounced round to Clifden Road a few days later and took me out to dinner. "How could you steal from an old lady?"
"I didn't steal. She asked me to have the map valued."
"No she didn't - I was with you."
"All right, she didn't ask me. But I recognised that the map was by Speed and I thought if I got it valued for her, it would be a nice surprise."
I knew he was lying, but I let it go. I said: "If you ever really stole something, I would leave you."
He said: "I know you would, Minn."
But actually I knew he had stolen something and I didn't leave him, so we were both lying.
When I did try to leave him a few weeks later, it was not out of moral outrage but because I was bored. I was bored with Minn and Bubl, I was bored with the endless driving round, the waiting while he ran his mysterious errands, the long heavy meals in restaurants, the tussles in strange bedrooms, the fact that we never met anyone except Danny and Helen. I told Simon: "We're finished - I've got to concentrate on my A-levels." He said: "We're not finished. I'll come for you when you've done your A-levels."
On the evening after my last A-level, Simon took me out to dinner and proposed. I had wanted him to propose, as proof of my power, but I had absolutely no intention of accepting because of course I was going to Oxford. Eighteen years of my life had been dedicated to this end, so it was quite impertinent of him to suggest my giving it up. I relayed the news to my parents the next morning as a great joke - "Guess what? Simon proposed! He wants me to marry him this summer!" To my complete disbelief, my father said, "Why not?" Why not? Had he suddenly gone demented? "Because then I couldn't go to Oxford." My father said: "Well

可是从LynnBarber本身的回想看来,某一件事实,电影里未有写:她并不爱她,她从没爱过他,她爱的是他给他拉动的教诲:上等餐厅,艺术,古玩,收藏品,古典音乐。从某种程度上,她用本人的光阴,青春,和纯洁性换成了眼界。她得以单方面冷冰冰地做他的女对象,享受他带给她的生存,对他疑惑的背景耳边风,直到她爱她到向她表白;同一时间,读他的书,考他的试,得到能够轻松进新加坡国立的好战绩。

和凯雷 Mulligan 演对手戏的Peter Sarsgaard 也特别安然无事,观者自然首先眼看到那些角色,就认为她丰裕疑忌,在她用吸重狂胜服Jenny一家时,大家总是在审理他的观念,总想看破她火急无辜的表情,但是到电影终极,大家竟然对她还略有同情。那部影片中还也可能有一堆能够的配角:Jenny的爹妈、大卫的仇敌Danny和Helen、关切他的教育工小编(Olivia威廉姆斯)、独有非常少几个镜头的女子高校长(埃玛 汤普森)。

Lynn对Simon的第一影像未必有多好,她更疑似被从未见过的耀眼小车,被未有接触过的天命之年男士的老道气质所掀起,以及尽管她是一位犹太人,但并从未犹太人的刻夹心面目。像具有情场老鸟同样,西蒙只是简短地问Lynn是否情愿与其喝杯咖啡,作为当下中产家庭的小儿,回家太晚自然是不允许的,林恩在愣神中拒绝。显然并不希图放任的西蒙在改约之后仍未如愿,然则Lynn在礼貌地不肯中毕竟表露了有些音讯,例如她忙于剧院排练而不得空。若干天后,在练习剧院的休息室,Lynn收到了第一次全国代表大会束令那八个常年女艺员倾慕的花。离开剧院时,她径自向“恰好”又停在当下的汽车车主道谢,天公地道复驳回了咖啡之约,但允许被送回家,以及假设Simon能说服他的执着老爹,他们星期三晚相约或然有戏。

  • is that the end of the world? Look," he went on, "you've been going out with him for two years; he's obviously serious, he's a good man; don't mess him around." I turned to my mother incredulously but she shook her head. "You don't need to go to university if you've got a good husband."
    This was 1962, well before the advent of feminism. But even so, I felt a sense of utter betrayal, as if I'd spent 18 years in a convent and then the Mother Superior had said: "Of course, you know, God doesn't exist." I couldn't believe my parents could abandon the idea of Oxford. But apparently they could and over the next few days they argued it every mealtime - good husbands don't grow on trees, you're lucky to get this one ("And you not even in the family way!"), why go to university if you don't need to? Simon meanwhile was taking me to see houses, asking where I wanted to live when we were married. I couldn't resist telling my schoolfriends: "I'm engaged!" And they were all wildly excited and thrilled for me, and said "You'll never have to do Latin again!" Even so, I was queasy - I'd always liked the sound of Oxford, I even liked writing essays, I wasn't so keen to give up the idea.
    Events overtook me in the last few days of term. Miss R Garwood Scott the headmistress somehow got wind of my engagement and summoned me to see her. Was it true I was engaged? Yes, I said, but I would still like to take the Oxford exams. She was ruthless. I could not return to school (in those days you had to stay for an extra term to do Oxbridge entrance) if I was getting married. When was the wedding and which church would it be in? Not in church, I said, because my fiancé was Jewish. Jewish! She looked aghast - "Don't you realise that the Jews killed Our Lord?" I stared at her. "So I won't take the Oxford exams," I said. My little gang was waiting for me outside her study. "I told her I was leaving," I announced. "She tried to persuade me to stay but I refused." They all congratulated me and begged to be bridesmaids. Then I went to the bogs and cried my eyes out.
    I told my parents: "I'm not going to Oxford, I'm marrying Simon." "Oh good!" they said. "Wonderful." When Simon came that evening, they made lots of happy jokes about not losing a daughter but gaining a son. Simon chuckled and waved his hands about, poured drinks and proposed toasts - but I caught the flash of panic in his eyes. A few days later, probably no more than a week later, we were in the Bristol on our way to dinner when he said he just needed to pop into one of his flats. Fine, I said, I'll wait in the car. As soon as he went inside the house, I opened the glove compartment and started going through the letters and bills he kept in there. It was something I could have done on any one of a hundred occasions before - I knew he kept correspondence in the glove compartment, I knew the glove compartment was unlocked, I was often waiting in the car alone and had no scruples about reading other people's letters. So why had I never done it before? And why did it seem the most obvious thing in the world to do now? Anyway the result was instantaneous. There were a dozen or more letters addressed to Simon Goldman, with a Twickenham address. And two addressed to Mr and Mrs Simon Goldman with the same address.
    I behaved quite normally that evening though at the end, when he asked if Minn would welcome a visit from Bubl, I replied smoothly that she was indisposed. By that stage, I was at least as good a liar as Simon. As soon as I got home, I looked in the phone book - and why had I never thought of doing that before? - and sure enough found an S Goldman with a Popesgrove (Twickenham) number, and the address I'd seen on the letters. It was only about half a mile from my house, I actually passed it every day on the bus to school. I spent the night plotting and rehearsing what I would say, working out scripts for all eventualities. When I finally rang the number the next morning, it was all over in seconds. A woman answered. "Mrs Goldman?" I said. "Yes." "I'm ringing about the Bristol your husband advertised for sale." "Oh," she said, "is he selling it? He's not here now but he's usually back about six." That was enough or more than enough - I could hear a child crying in the background.
    I took the train to Waterloo, and walked all the way to Bedford Square. Helen was in, and guessed as soon as she saw me - "You've found out?"
    Yes, I said - "It's not just that he's married - he lives with her. And there's a child."
    "Two, actually."
    "Why didn't you tell me?"
    "I'm sorry. I wanted to. The other night when you said you were engaged, I told Danny we must tell you, but he said Simon would never forgive us."
    This was - what? - my third, fourth, fifth betrayal by adults? And I had really thought Helen was my friend.
    "What was Simon planning to do?" I asked her. "Commit bigamy?"
    "Yes," she said soberly. "That's exactly what he intended to do. He felt he'd lose you if he didn't. He loves you very much you know."
    I went home and raged at my parents - "You did this. You made me go out with him, you made me get engaged." My parents were white with shock - unlike me, they had no inkling before that Simon was dishonest. My mother cried. When Simon came that evening, my father went to the door and tried to punch him. I heard him shouting, "You've ruined her life!" From my bedroom window, I saw Simon sitting in the Bristol outside with his shoulders shaking. Then my father strode down the front path and kicked the car as hard as he could, and Simon drove away. I found the sight of my father kicking the car hilarious and wanted to shout out of the window, "Scratch it, Dad! Scratch the bodywork - that'll really upset him!'
    It was a strange summer. My parents were grieving and still in deep shock. I, the less deceived, was faking far more sorrow than I felt. After all, I never loved Simon whereas I think perhaps they did. I stayed in my room playing Cesar Franck's Symphony in D Minor very loudly day after day. My main emotion was rage, followed by puzzlement about what to do next. I had no plans for the summer or - now - for the rest of my life. When my A-level results came, I not only got the top marks I fully expected in English and French, but also - mirabile dictu - top marks in Latin. I slapped the letter on the breakfast table and said, "You see? I could have gone to Oxford."
    My father took the day off work, probably for the first time in his life, and went to see Miss R Garwood Scott. God knows what humble pie he had to eat - and he hated humble pie - but he came back with a grim face and a huge concession. She had agreed I could be entered for the Oxford exams as a Lady Eleanor Holles pupil, and I could sit the exams at school. But she was adamant that I could not attend the school - it was up to him to arrange private tutorials. Mum and Dad talked far into the night about how they would find a tutor, and how they would pay. A day or two later - presumably at Miss R Garwood Scott's instigation - one of my English teachers rang and volunteered to be my tutor. So I spent that autumn writing essays and going to tutorials, working hard and feeling lonely. My parents were in such deep grief that mealtimes were silent. Once or twice I saw the Bristol parked at the end of the street, but I was never remotely tempted to go to it.
    I sat the Oxford exams, I went for interviews, I was accepted at St Anne's. In my second term at Oxford, one of the nuns at the convent where I boarded handed me a note which she said a man had brought. It said "Bubl respectfully requests the pleasure of the company of Minn for dinner at the Randolph Hotel tonight at 8." I tore it up in front of the nun. "Don't ever let that man in," I told her. "He's a con-man." I went round to Merton to tell my boyfriend, Dick, and he said, "Well, I'd like to meet him - let's go to the Randolph." So we did. Simon was sitting in the lobby - on time, for once in his life - looking older, tireder, seedier than I remembered. His face lit up when he saw me and fell when I said, "This is my boyfriend, Dick." Simon said politely, "Won't you please both stay to dinner as my guests?" "How are you going to pay for it?" I snapped and Dick looked at me with horror - he had never heard me use that tone before. Simon silently withdrew a large roll of banknotes from his pocket and I nodded, OK.
    Dick was enchanted by Simon. He loved his Israeli kibbutz stories, his fishing with dynamite stories, his Molotov cocktail stories. I had heard them all before and sulked throughout the meal. As Dick walked me back to my convent, he said, "I see why you were taken in by him - he is quite a charmer, isn't he?" "No," I said furiously, "he's a disgusting criminal con-man and don't you dare say you like him!"
    Was Simon a con-man? Well, he was a liar and a thief who used charm as his jemmy to break into my parents' house and steal their most treasured possession, which was me. Of course Oxford, and time, would have stolen me away eventually, but Simon made it happen almost overnight. Until our "engagement", I'd thought my parents were ignorant about many things (fashion, for instance, and existentialism, and why Jane Austen was better than Georgette Heyer) but I accepted their moral authority unquestioningly. So when they casually dropped the educational evangelism they'd sold me for 18 years and told me I should skip Oxford to marry Simon, I thought, "I'm never going to take your advice about anything ever again." And when he turned out to be married, it was as if, tacitly, they concurred. From then on, whenever I told them my plans, their only response was a penitent "You know best".
    What did I get from Simon?An education - the thing my parents always wanted me to have. I learned a lot in my two years with Simon. I learned about expensive restaurants and luxury hotels and foreign travel, I learned about antiques and Bergman films and classical music. All this was useful when I went to Oxford - I could read a menu, I could recognise a fingerbowl, I could follow an opera, I was not a complete hick. But actually there was a much bigger bonus than that. My experience with Simon entirely cured my craving for sophistication. By the time I got to Oxford, I wanted nothing more than to meet kind, decent, straightforward boys my own age, no matter if they were gauche or virgins. I would marry one eventually and stay married all my life and for that, I suppose, I have Simon to thank.
    But there were other lessons Simon taught me that I regret learning. I learned not to trust people; I learned not to believe what they say but to watch what they do; I learned to suspect that anyone and everyone is capable of "living a lie". I came to believe that other people - even when you think you know them well - are ultimately unknowable. Learning all this was a good basis for my subsequent career as an interviewer, but not, I think, for life. It made me too wary, too cautious, too ungiving. I was damaged by my education.

在她给《卫报》写的本子里,有两句话值得援用一下:

那是一部在左右步调色彩气氛,以及处理人物关系上海高校都完美的影片,可是在影视的末梢一段,却就好像草草甘休,作者觉着女二号所受的熏陶,应该能够表现得越来越好,我想那是本片的独一劣势。后来自己去看了LynnBarber自传的缩略版,才发掘她的自己分析更为深远,缺憾电影嘎然则止,未能再深远下去。

有关林恩的二老,是独家家中中第一代迈入London下层中产阶级的成员,常年待在London,朋友并比很少,见识也会有限,她的父亲看起来持之以恒和严苛,对自家的社会意况有很深的隐忧,阿妈活泼而缺少主张,他们最大的财物和寄托,就是独生孙女Lynn,他们花费绝大多数时光、精力和钱财去作育林恩,差比非常少从诞生开头将要求他努力学习,今后进来Oxford。他们替Lynn筛除掉不妥帖的喜欢,不适当的追求者。自然,固然有些毛头小子要想与Lynn约会,也会在Lynn父的盘问下却步。Simon却形成贰个不及,林恩的生父竟然同意他们多待一会儿,咖啡小约适时地改成了晚饭。此后,Simon以至称呼Lynn家非常受接待的客人,他与Lynn的家长相谈甚欢,赠告别致而方便的赠礼,探讨成人热衷的话题,并迎合他们的思想。Simon和林恩的约会也愈发六通四达。

On the evening after my last A-level, Simon took me out to dinner and proposed. I had wanted him to propose, as proof of my power, but I had absolutely no intention of accepting because of course I was going to Oxford.

An Education (2009)

Simon带着Lynn步向高档餐厅、听音乐会,看国外影视,在拍卖会上竞相投标,去巴黎和罗马度周末……经历一切Lynn从未有过的活着。在此以前充足在女子高校念书的Lynn,聪明且能够,喜欢加泰罗尼亚语和法兰西曲子,潜习文学使她比同龄孩子更成熟,而一层不改变的活着中,艰涩的拉丁文,幼稚的追求者,以及父母和教师的严刻管教,都让他跃跃欲逃。面前蒙受Simon的大面积阅读和人情练达,林恩常觉羞愧,而当场他还从未掌握到她的学生气质,她稚嫩的老姑娘特征,正是他对成熟男士相当的大的重力。

(“小编最后一门A-level试验之后,Simon带笔者出来吃晚餐,并向自个儿表白。小编前边希望他向笔者招亲,以注脚自个儿的一手和实力,不过笔者一心未有其他接受他的求亲的盘算,因为本人理所绝对要去麻省理工科的。”)

和Simon的约会正成为十一虚岁Lynn的经常,白天是女学员,早上是花花世界里的约会女孩儿,她不是一贯不狐疑过, “I wasn't exactly rushing headlong into this relationship; he was far too old for me to think of as a boyfriend. ”但是“On the other hand, I had always fantasised about having an older man, someone even more sophisticated than me, to impress the little squirts of Hampton Grammar.” 以至,Simon成为Lynn的初夜人物,固然她心头中的理想人选而不是Simon这一款,但当下,她身边也不曾更合适的多谋善算者男生。可能说,Lynn不得不这么选。“As my 17th birthday approached, I knew that my debt of dinners and weekends could only be erased by "giving" Simon my virginity. ”

政工被开采然后:

An Education (2009)
地区 英国
导演 Lone Scherfig
编剧 Nick Hornby 原著 Lynn Barber
主演 Carey Mulligan、Peter Sarsgaard、Alfred Molina、Cara Seymour、Dominic Cooper、Rosamund Pike

接触越来越多,Lynn渐渐发掘到她并不停解Simon,他住何地?他的办事都做些什么?为何他可以经常顺便经过Lynn的母校?这一派要归因于Simon老道的避开手艺,另一方面,也是Lynn可是问的结果,她就好像无意去探究那几个,她也以为盘根问底那作为太粗陋。在Double date中,Lynn更发现到,比起Simon,她更爱她的同盟军人Danny及女票。她可以与Danny畅聊古典法学、前Raphael画派和管理遗闻,Simon就如只好张开她在物质层面包车型客车胆识。在Lynn大概疲倦了与Simon在一块儿的活着并尝试离开她去注意学业时,Simon向他求爱并建议他退学。Lynn的心中写照却是——“I had wanted him to propose, as proof of my power, but I had absolutely no intention of accepting because of course I was going to Oxford.”

From my bedroom window, I saw Simon sitting in the Bristol outside with his shoulders shaking. Then my father strode down the front path and kicked the car as hard as he could, and Simon drove away. I found the sight of my father kicking the car hilarious and wanted to shout out of the window, "Scratch it, Dad! Scratch the bodywork - that'll really upset him!'

当Lynn当做玩笑同样告知父母时,父母的反馈截然动摇了林恩对成材世界的明亮。林恩的家长告知她,如若他能和三个这么好的相恋的人成婚,她本来绝不再去麻省理工科,不用再去那多少个他为之斗争了18年的地方。或然说,她的双亲传递出了那般三个音信,去Oxford也只可是是让Lynn嫁叁个好人家的敲打砖,当Lynn能够通过别的办法过上父阿娘断定的好生活时,敲门砖自然可以弃置了。在从Simon这里获得教训在此以前,Lynn首先在老人这里接受了中年人世界的率先个教训。抛开Simon不谈,Lynn的家长的主张和决定让坚定不移三个对象18年的林恩感受到了背叛的滋味。

(从自己寝室的窗看去,Simon坐在他的Bristol里,肩膀颤抖。接下来笔者的老爸之前门走出去,用尽全力踢她的车,Simon驾驶跑了。笔者以为自己阿爸踢她车的情景滑稽极了,很想对户外喊,“爸,把她的车划了!划坏那车身!那会让他很生气的!)

正因如此,她不准备扬弃读书和Oxford。然则他的休学去办喜事的主张在严刻的女子高校长那儿受阻,成婚与承接求学,成为二选一的主题素材,顶牛冲动之下,Lynn接纳了前面二个。往往绝处逢生,就在一家里人兴缓筌漓批评着Lynn的婚礼,以致Simon都带着她看了几处房子的某天,Lynn在Simon的车中见到了多少给Mr and Mrs SimonGoldman的信函,那三个信件一贯就在小车副驾前的小柜里,Lynn曾无数开拓那多少个小柜,也曾无多次见到这一个信件,只是他绝非拿起一封去看一下。跟她交往了三年居然要立室的那些哥们,是其余妇女的男生,他们有多少个子女,他们的家在Lynn家约半英里之外。

电影里还没讲的是,她进德克萨斯奥斯汀分校之后,老哥们拜托大学的奶子传纸条给他约她吃晚餐。然后呢,她去Merton(是北卡罗来纳教堂山分校最佳的大学)找来她男朋友,多个人共同去赴宴。哇塞美貌极了!

不期而来的训诫,看起来已经该来了。在一段时间的迷途后,在Lynn阿爸的央浼下,女子高校长同意Lynn作为在校生插足本年Oxford的入学考试,但不能够返校上课。Lynn在家中,在家庭教授的协理下,重新过上了中规中矩拼命学习的生活,只但是那个时候,Oxford对他的意思同理可得了无数。

设若影片把踏踏实实的Lynn Barber拍出来,不知会如何呢...?

关于Simon,Lynn在早稻田的第4个学期,曾接到过Simon传来的便条,Lynn当即叫上Merton高校的男友,一齐赴约。

自己读的是他为《卫报》写的本子,已是电影拍好之后写的。原来的小说在这边:

即使要问,和Simon在共同的三年,Lynn得到了何等的训诫?综上可得,她的人生差一点被毁掉。当然,这八年,接触到的高昂餐厅、华侈酒店、外国游览,明白到的古董、戏剧和古典乐,让她直面上层中产的松动生活和观赏水平举重若轻。更要紧的是,治愈了他对中年成熟男生的盲目崇拜,金钱和时间就能够堆砌的事物,她凭仗拼搏和等待也足以获得。电影里的Lynn说:“The life I want, there is no shortcut. ”因为,与Simon的这段关系,究竟带了多数更浓密的避之不如的震慑,“I learned not to trust people; I learned not to believe what they say but to watch what they do; I learned to suspect that anyone and everyone is capable of "living a lie"”终其一生,Lynn也未尝脱身这段关系之后“too wary, too cautious, too ungiving”的脾性,所以,这段关系,终归也毁掉了非常16虚岁的大妈娘。

本条传说的最先版本是Barber给Granta杂志(一本英国工学杂志)写的二个短篇。后来,她又把它扩成一本书,已在二零零六年出版了。尼克霍恩比为电影写那本猴时只依据了Granta的短篇传说。

© 本文版权归小编  C.parasol  全部,任何方式转发请联系笔者。

LynnBarber的地方是电视采访者,职业过的媒体(都以平面媒体)满含《名利场》,《周六泰晤士报》,《天天电子通信报》,《观望报》。获过部分奖,曾经是透纳奖(TurnerPrize)的评判。关于他完美的收罗手艺,wikipedia上有这么一条:

Best known for her interviews, she was once quoted by Will Self as describing her method as "start[ing] ... from a position of really disliking people, and then compel[ling] them to win you over."

(WillSelf评价他做访问的作风:“先导是从四个百般讨厌被访者的角度张开的,那样会激起被访谈人努力展现,以力争得到青眼”)

自己笑死了。她原本是这么的人。

最终依然轻巧说说这么些电影。虚拟归设想,其实小编依然爱怜它的妖艳色彩。Jenny毕竟是令人疼爱的人物,作者更加的垂怜看他和各个人说话。不过那应算是剧小说家的功德。剧散文家Nick霍恩比是加州戴维斯分校Jesus College的。可能俺应该再读叁遍High Fidelity.

影片里那个地名令作者认为熟稔/亲呢。St John's SmithSquare是常举办古典音乐会的地点,LisaHannigan也在那边演出过的;Helen的美丽服装是在"somewhere in Chelsea"买的,便是罗伊al Court Theatre周边的地段,Ben Whishaw演Cock时吃午饭晚饭的地点;

歌星影星。开头八卦歌唱家。第一女一号的名片在此之前没看过,略去。

OliviaWilliams又是平心易气爱心女生的剧中人物。其余同类剧中人物能够景仰《第六感》(Bruce威Liss他爱妻),BBC版Emma(Jane Fairfax),Heart of Me(Paul Bettany和HelenaBonham-Carter搞婚外恋,她演Bonham-Carter的堂妹,Bettany的老伴)。

埃玛 汤普森是个严肃的狠老女子的剧中人物。(故园风雨后?)

Ayr弗瑞德Molina公公,怎么笔者很难把显示器上的你,和欢娱拥抱外甥,听iPod的光头的您关系起来吧?真谢谢你给自个儿签字,不然好像白见了一般(殴飞)。期待The Tempest哟!

Cara Seymour老得厉害。曾是Adaptation里优雅纤巧的小提琴家,怎么如今也伊始演母辈了?

马特hew Beard和女二号在排练室里的对视成了自己的皇皇欢愉(程度直逼在霍姆斯里看到HansMatheson)。自从上次看过And When Did You Last See Your Father之后就分外可怜看好那孩子。五官如此清秀,皮肤嫩得能掐出水来似的,演技也不差。他不及NicolasHoult有名,笔者感觉没道理啊。

第一男配角眉眼间温柔的蜜意就像有一点像热恋中的达茜先生。

以上。

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