I think of Ian Curtis (lead singer of Joy Disvision, 1956-1980). When he was 18 years old, the scene of drawing eyeliner in the mirror often appeared in my dreams. I think this narcissistic man who seems to be unable to resist himself eventually died in the egoistic dictatorship. The black eyeliner hinted at his encounter in this dream. He used one to meet the other. He saw himself in the mirror with different souls. They were twisted and hurt, although he had received some self-righteous comfort.
Ian Curtis in "Control" often had such a dream. He imagined that he was another person hiding under his skin, doing what he didn't want but still pretending to be his business. (He said, just like it's not happening to me but someone pretending to be me,someone dressed in my skin,I've no Control anymore.) He grows up, he sings, he loves and is loved, he feels lost in himself What's inside is not just the pain caused by the gray reality of growing up, or there is also a metaphor about love. His love for himself trapped him under layers of shackles. He tried to strip away the truth of life, but he fell into the origin of dreams. love, love will tear us apart again. He deeply believes that love is the root of destroying everything, and he never doubted it.
Ian Curtis is undoubtedly a dancer in the dark, a tragic figure in ancient Greece. The life that ended by hanging himself at the age of 24 was a metaphor for his last struggle. He exhaled his last breath from the tightly bound neck, as if driving away the soul in his body that did not belong to him. He treated him Shouted, he wanted him to go, he wanted him to leave him, he used death to obtain the so-called absolute freedom, the final victory.
The same is the choice of death. I remembered the face of another dead man in this cold winter afternoon. This is a man who jumped into the Seine River as his end point at the age of 49, a man with an obsession with death flowing from the corners of his eyebrows, and a man who named himself Celan (Latin, meaning to hide and keep secret).
His name is Paul Celan (Paul Celan 1920-1970). Former Austrian poet.
He wrote in the poem, "You were my death/ You, I can hold it/ When everything is lost from me".
There are dark highlights in the sentence. He sneaks his death breath into the reader's soul like a ghost. He does not praise or criticize. He is quietly narrating dreams, and his words are dripping blood. The curse of, you can't see the wound, but it feels more and more real in the experience of pain.
As a representative of ruin literature, Celan belongs to that era. His early studies in France allowed him to witness the persecution of Jews by the Nazis, and he was a Jew himself. After experiencing the entire World War II years of hiding with death, his physical wounds began to heal, but he let his heart The wound gradually eroded. Pain created him, he did not choose to escape, but enchantingly snaked out the buds of death from the roots of pain, he "walked into the darkness and sank into the dry well of his heart." Celan's poems contain large-scale metaphors, which are difficult to say but hidden, and hard to speak straightforwardly. He seems to be talking to people, but his words are full of despair. He talks to himself, living in the wilderness exiled by himself. This may have been another soul he repeatedly pursued and interrogated in his dreams.
In 1970, he ended his life by jumping into the Seine. That should be two years after the "May Storm". I don’t know how Celan, who later chose to settle in Paris, saw this revolutionary change in thought, but his way of death combined with water, under the definition of metaphor, may be a return of the mother of the soul, back to The initial state in the womb was also the ocean of life that first gave birth to us. Complete the ritual of reincarnation in a curled up posture, and gradually merge with it, giving up anxiety, fear and loneliness. What he wants is not the escape of the soul, but the acquisition again. The difference between him and Ian is that all he can give to himself is the hunger of the soul touched in the dark. He does not need to give up his life. Finding freedom, death is the only way for him to return to himself spiritually in his dreams.
"Some people are their lives, and some people just live in their lives and don’t know how to treat them. With life, there is the temptation to give up it. The stronger the temptation, the more you feel that you are just The tenants of their own lives don't know when they should be returned." It is still Susan Sontag's words from "Dark Box".
To us, life may be like a box with beauty and ugliness, hope and despair hidden in it, but in the dark we can only identify and guess the signs of danger in it. As if it was written in Borges’ verse, “I can give you my loneliness, my darkness, and the hunger of my soul. I’m trying to bribe you with impermanence, danger, and failure.” I believe this. You, each of our lives, exist in dreams and metaphors, another self who desires to be appealed.
Feb.18th 2008
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