In the movie "Shouts and Whispers" Agnes recalled her mother: "Even though my mother has passed away for more than 20 years, I still miss her almost every day. She used to go to the park to seek peace and loneliness, but I I will follow her from a distance and look at her secretly. Because I love her, love to the bones, love to jealousy. I love her gentle, beautiful and energetic, and love her peerless elegance. But she also has a cold and ruthless side, It's even cruel like playfulness, but I still can't help feeling sorry for her, and now I grow up and understand her better, I wish I could see her again, I want to tell her that I understand her dullness And impatient. I understand her longing and loneliness. Mother always organizes a party on the eve of Epiphany. Aunt Olga will bring his magic lamp and fairy tales. I always feel left out and I am scared. Being a mother In her brisk and impatient way, I was at a loss when speaking to me, but Maria and her mother were always whispering together, they were so alike, I was full of jealousy and wanted to know what they were laughing at. Everyone had a lot of fun and had a lot of fun, but I couldn’t participate in it. I remember another time, it was autumn, I stood behind the curtains and watched her secretly, she was sitting in the red living room, wearing her white dress, she Just sitting there, head down, hands on the table. Suddenly she saw me and called me over in a gentle voice. I walked up to her hesitantly, thinking she would criticize me as usual, but her eyes Full of sorrow, I was almost crying, I put my hand on her cheek, and at that moment, we were very close."
Bergman wrote in his autobiography "Magic Lantern": "Today, I am leaning on a photo of my childhood and looking at my mother's face with a magnifying glass. I try to relive the emotions that have passed for a long time. Yes, I love her. She is very charming in the photo. Her broad forehead is covered with thick brown hair, her oval face is delicate and soft, her sexy lips are gentle and kind, her eyes are gentle and peaceful under her thick black eyelashes, and her hands are petite and powerful. My four-year-old heart was full of dog-like loyalty. However, my relationship with my mother was not very simple. My loyalty made him annoyed and anxious. My expression of closeness and strong emotional outbursts bothered her. She often Chasing me away with indifference and sarcasm, I can only cry with resentment and disappointment. The relationship between her and her brother is much simpler. She has always helped him resist his father, and his father always used harsh methods to educate him, being cruel The whiplash is a proof. I slowly realized that alternately expressing my affection with meekness and fury has no effect at all. Therefore, I soon began to try to make her happy and cater to her with my own behavior. Illness can immediately arouse her sympathy. Let yourself be immersed in the endless pain, this is indeed a shortcut that pain can really arouse the mother’s care and consideration. On the other hand, because the mother is a trained Su’s nurse, my tricks will soon be exposed and punished in public. Use another good way to please her, the result is even worse. I know my mother can’t stand indifference and absent-mindedness, she takes these as her own I also learned to restrain my passion and started to make a unique game. The initial tricks of the game were arrogance and a kind of politeness with indifference. Although I don’t remember what I did, love will make a People are aggressive, and I quickly succeeded in discovering interesting things in the combination of sensitivity and self-esteem. The biggest problem I encountered was never having the opportunity to expose my game, throw away my mask, indulge myself, and embrace each other's care. "
The poet Sylvia Plath once wrote a "Morning Song" for her daughter Frida, in which there is a passage: "I am not your mother / like a dark cloud casts a mirror to reflect myself slowly / Dissipated at the mercy of the wind."
At 6 o'clock in the morning on February 11, 1963, Plath abandoned the two children in his sleep and ended her life in her home by driving gas: she got upstairs, went to the children’s room, and put a table on the table. A plate of butter bread and two cups of milk, fearing that they will feel hungry after they wake up and before the working girl arrives. Then, she went downstairs and walked into the kitchen, sealing the gap between the doors and windows as much as possible with a towel, turning on the oven, sticking her head in, and turning on the gas.
And forty-one years after Sylvia Plath committed suicide, one of the children in his sleep who was once left behind, her daughter Frida restored the whole picture of her mother's poem "Elves" and made a preface to it. , Between the lines reveals the daughter’s love and understanding for her mother: “I don’t want to see people commemorating my mother’s death in a way that she was awarded a prize. I hope that the fact of her birth will be praised and affirmed: she once existed , Used to live as best as possible, used to be happy and sad, distressed and ecstatic, and gave birth to me and my brother. I think my mother is unique and extraordinary at work, and when she is fighting against the depression that entangles her life Brave. She makes good use of every emotional experience, as if it is a small piece of cloth that can be assembled into a costume; she will never waste a single bit of what she feels; she can control the chaos and turmoil When he was emotional, he was able to concentrate on her amazing poetic energy effectively. However, the extreme pain of my mother's suicide was taken over by strangers, possessed by them, and reshaped. The poems of "Elves" are compiled into a book. It symbolizes that I have my mother, but my father suffers more slander. This is like when the clay of her poetic energy is occupied, and then used to fabricate different statements about my mother. The purpose of the fabricator is to project her own. Thoughts, they seemed to think they could possess my true mother, a woman who had lost her original appearance in their hearts. I saw poems like "Mrs. Lazarus" and "Daddy" being analyzed time and time again, I The moment my mother wrote them was applied to her whole life, the whole individual, as if they were the sum of all her experiences."
Your mother betrayed you with indifference, and why are you still obsessed with her?
Because in any case, she is a beautiful and elegant woman who cannot be rejected.
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