Spectacle in Segovia

The original story is written by "Xxlao墓". Translated by me, edited by Robert Berold.

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Alas!


Spain, or all of the Spanish-speaking world, is a surrealistic land, otherwise how could she have borne El Greco, Joan Miró, Salvado Dali and García Márquez.? Since I have been here, all I do is eat and sleep, no different from what I do elsewhere. And although what I have done and written has caused a stir and won people's attention, it has never achieved surrealism, not even one tens of the scene I'm about to describe.



Scenery

We had arrived in Segovia. We came across a high aqueduct built in the Roman Empire. Looking upwards, what we saw would have been no different from how it was in the past. Then we looked down to all the people and traffics were passing through its massive base. The streets and shops instantly dragged us back to reality.



Record

Some buskers were leaning against the boulders. It's a common thing in this country. One group in particular attracted us, a group of skinny women, aged about 40 yeas old or so. They looked lifeless. One of them was shouting in a hoarse voice, calling people to gather around to watch a musical performance. The others set up a couple of microphones and speakers. Each microphone was set very low, to only leg height. I wondered what kind of music it would be.



Some people gathered around. Those skinny women suddenly pulled their skirts up-- there were not wearing any underwear. I looked into their old wares which had probably been dedicated to porn. Their pudenda were loose and elastic, like straps hanging down. With their hands, they pulled on these straps the way cooks stretch dough into noodles. Their thin fingers then plucked these flaps of skin, and the sound was amplified through the speakers. They alternately pulled and released their fingers, creating rhythemical sounds that made a pleasant absurd music which drifted beneath the ancient aqueduct.



Touched

The audience went quiet. Some looked serious. Some let out sighs. I turned around to find that my companion was weeping. Did the music touch her? Or was it they were doing with their bodies? Was she imagining the unutterable pasts of these middle-aged women. I wept, too. It reminded me of the structure of Les Miserables. But who knows if there is a structure or not? Here in broad daylight and under these clouds, people were standing in a circle around these bony women playing music with their God-given instruments, even my companion and I participated in this spectacle: two tearful faces that didn't belong to this land became two of its elements.



The end

The sky went dark. We left. We will be home in a couple of days, and I'll continue with my work. But is it necessary? Maybe I should stop worrying about playing tricks with words. Maybe I should start trying to solve real problems in a down-to-earth manner.
 
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阴之乐（或是西班牙旅行记）


XxLao墓 @ 2009-11-7 9:29



1、 废话

间隔多日未写博文，是去旅行了。



2、 感叹

西班牙或是整个西班牙语世界的土壤是超现实的，不然怎么会催生了格列柯、米罗、达利、马尔克斯这些人物。但自到了这里，也是每日的吃睡，并不见有什么不同，直至这次行旅，那景致出现在我与伴侣的面前，我才发现：平日里自己的做写，尽管是极尽了哗众取宠的能事，却不及这现实的十之一二超出现实。



3、 景色

我们是到了塞戈比亚，那里耸立着罗马时代建筑的高大水渠。往上看时，大约和古时没什么不同，往下看来，水渠的巨大基座间穿梭着各式人物、大小车辆，铺陈的街舍商家会把你拉回现下。



4、 实记

靠着那些大石头，有些卖艺的人，这在这国里是再平常不过，但有一组莫名地吸引我们过去。那是几个精瘦的妇人，徐娘半老的年纪，看上去了无生气。其中一个沙哑地大声召唤起来，让人们聚拢过来，声说是音乐的表演，其余几个支架其麦克风和音响，每个麦克风的架构都调节很低，只到了大腿间的位置，我却不知那是什么样的音乐。



结聚了些人，那些瘦妇人都猛地把裙子拉起来，竟是没有内裤的。我看过去，那些器具都像是拍了一辈子毛片的，松松垮垮的两片，或是说更似两条，垂在那里。她们腾出手，再把那各自的两瓣扯拽出来，竟扯得老长，像是手擀面的师傅的手法。空出的干瘦手指在面片样的东西上拨弄起来，那细微的声响被麦克风连接的音箱放致很大。手扯拽的力气时而大小，那两瓣面片也收缩松紧，这般那音律也高低变化起来，再加之几人协调合配，经形成了时美妙时荒诞的音色，在那古老的遗址下飘扬。



5、 感触

周围的人不动声色，或作严峻的研制神态，或作无奈的唏嘘表情。我看过去，我的伴侣却哭了，是那音律打动了她？或是那肢体的合韵律动？我想她又或是关联想到什么那几个半老妇人的历经身世。我也哭了，也是想到了《悲惨世界》里的结构，可谁知那是有的或没有。只是那天色云朵下，古代的纪念石碑旁，人们围拢着几个用特殊造物神器演奏音乐的枯骨女人，连我俩也参与到这一副神奇景象中：为这构成加入两具本不属于这土地的以泪洗泣的面孔。



6、 结局

天色晚了，我们回去，过几天再回到住所。我还会做下去，只是那还有必要么？或是我也许不必再操心什么魔术把戏，踏踏实实地追究些身旁的实质东西。