in another hazy dawn, the fisherman's son, Mario, returned from hunting and fishing with his father. Even though his background—the beautiful Italian Adriatic Sea is infinitely quiet and serene, the sound of the waves crashing on the shore in the dawn is like the low-pitched singing of the daughter of the sea, like the dreamy babble of a siren, even if the sea and sky are the same color, the morning light renders the fishermen. The joy and sorrow of their work, but for the young Mario who grew up here, he was already deeply tired of it. In such a time, one is bored and has no sustenance. Apart from casting a net to catch fish and wandering the market to spend the rest of his life, what else can one expect? Many times, if one of us, like a poet, sings about the life that transcends the displacement and the changing scenes of life, then such a life, such a scene, is rarely the present scene that you are turning a blind eye to. Great nostalgia, and dedications to lovers and close friends, often come only from our emotions and inspirations years after we were away from them and forgotten about them.
The young Mario in "The Postman" (nominated for the Best Picture Oscar in 1994) made an important decision on that night in the fisherman's house. Not long ago, he learned in the film documentary that Neruda, a famous poet, who was honored as "the Poet of the Enslaved", was forced by the Chilean government for two days to discriminate and harm him, and he would be killed in his hometown, a small town located at the ends of the earth. Temporary refuge on the island of Salina. And Mario unexpectedly got his first job—delivering letters for the great poet with a mountain of letterheads. Mario may not realize that his life will be deeply influenced by Neruda until it is completely changed. From then on, Mario will no longer be a vulgar young man in an illiterate country. From then on, he will be religious, Bravely, in the name of poetry alone, chasing his ideals, chasing his love, reciting with joy for a simple spiritual pillar, until dedicating to it. In the film, when Mario rode on his broken bicycle for the first time, sweating profusely on the mountain road, when delivering a letter to Neruda, who had never met before, in a rhythm that was even and full of dynamic rhythm , a kind, earthy melody played alternately by clarinet and bandoneon accordion, vividly depicting the image of a postman riding a bicycle on the road, will always stay in the small island of Salina in 1946 of the countryside is on view.
The difference in their identities is self-evident. Mario's humbleness, humility, humility, and Neruda's slightly arrogant look in front of the great poet Neruda are destined to be difficult for them to become friends in the way of opponents. I believe that there will never be true equality between people, and you can't expect that even a commoner poet like Neruda can be as ordinary as you Mario. The postman talks about the equality and freedom of human nature, but, apart from the status and reputation, they have the same thing - poetry. Let them go back to the poetry itself and the soul of poetry - "dark" (I speculate from the subtitles, dark may be some analogy and imagination space similar to Chinese), young Mario began to realize the true meaning of poetry art Kazumi:
Mario: I want to be a poet.
Neruda: Then please paint a picture of the island where you live.
Mario: I fell in love with a woman. Do me a favour, can you write a love poem for me.
Neruda: I can't write poetry in the face of virtuality.
Mario: Can you explain what you mean by "the smell of the barber shop bores me"?
Neruda: Explanation, can never replace emotional experience.
What Neruda means is that poetry comes first from real life and emotion, and poetry for poetry’s sake is false, but poetry, as a language art of expression, is above life, and at the same time, poetry cannot express Popular experience, the charm of poetry lies in the metaphor (darkness) and transcendence of personal experience. It's theory, and the first thing Mario puts him into practice is, finally, to the woman he loves: Oh, your smile spreads like a butterfly. He finally saw Brigitte's enthusiastic response. At that moment, he was as inspired and hot as a real poet - "Naked":
"You are as simple, smooth, solid, slender, and transparent as a single hand
. Lines like the moon, paths like apples,
you are as naked as the bare wheat
, you are as blue as the Cuban night, the
stars and roses are tied in your hair,
and you are as naked as the gilded church in summer
..."
Who said that poetry belongs to a few intellectuals, and who said that poetry is the groaning of the aristocracy? A simple young Mario, who has never been educated in the orthodox language, can also write moving love poems. This is enough to prove that poetry returns to the original ideal of the people, and of course, it is the ideal of the poet Neruda. In the years of exile (including his poetry), he used his poetry to influence a simple postman, which is the greatest comfort a poet can get as a poet who has accompanied him all his life.
When Neruda was about to return home, he gave Mario his tape recorder. How could he have thought that, after a few years, when he once again set foot on this little island that was almost forgotten by the world, he would never see the melancholy eyes of his devout believer and brother Mario (at a workers' meeting). , Mario recited the poems of the poet at the conference, and was killed by other short sleeves), all he could hear was that Mario never answered Neruda's question: how do you describe what you love? The hometown where you live?
Although Neruda kept his word, he forgot the agreement between them to write to Mario (just asking his secretary to write the official document on his behalf), but Mario remembered his oath, which he used during his lifetime. The recordings recorded the sounds of his island: the sound of the
small waves, the sound of the waves, the wind on the cliff, the wind in the bushes, the falling of father's sad fishing net, the church bells, the starry night sky The starry starry night, the heartbeat of his soon-to-be child. He finally realized what is true, is the soul of poetry. Perhaps, Mario did not realize that when he recorded the eight voices one by one, he had surpassed the poet Neruda in a certain way. Of course, Neruda must not be unaware of this: that is A kind person, a person who loves life, never loses faith, a great loyal personality.
At that moment, the poet Neruda roamed the seaside, full of tears, that young Mario, who had already turned into a bubble in the sea, would he remember the prophecy of his predecessor Kafka? "Of course, he is just a messenger, and he doesn't know the content of the letter he passed, but his look, smile and demeanor seem to reveal a message, even though he may not know anything about it." Nie Ruda took up the pen and wrote:
'That year
I don't know where it came from
from winter? from the river? when and where?
Not voices without words
, nor from the streets I walked,
from the long night
, from the inspiration of a messenger
in the fire or on the way home
who had no face
but touched me”
(—To friend and brother Mario.)
For, He is both a messenger and a letterhead itself that reveals the message that the poet has been missing.
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