来源 ：一起飞国际机票网 2019-11-18 04:18:50|2017年白小姐半句玄诗
“I can’t understand these chaps who go round American universities explaining how they write poems,” Philip Larkin once complained. “It’s like going round explaining how you sleep with your wife.”
His interlocutor replied, “They’d do that, too if their agents could fix it.”
Truly, all things come to pass. The essayist David Shields has written a new book, “The Trouble With Men,” which he describes as “a short, intensive immersion into the perils, limits and possibilities of human intimacy.” More bluntly, it’s about sleeping with his wife — and addressed to her. “Do I love you? Do you love me? What kind of marriage do we want?” he asks her. “Do you like making love with me? Do you love making love with me? (Don’t answer.)”
Despite the broad diagnosis promised by the title, the focus is narrow, personal — and frank. Shields breaks the sound barrier for indiscretion. He quotes Harold Brodkey: “I don’t see the point of privacy.” (Fittingly, Brodkey’s other appearance here features him trying to pick up Shields at a gym in 1983.)
The book is structured as an investigation into Shields’s own psyche and particular tastes. He is masochistic to his marrow — not just sexually. “I check the Mariners score on my phone, hoping they’ve won but needing them to lose.” He relishes his negative reviews. His entire career owes something to his desire for punishment. “Throughout various books, I’ve quoted and ‘misquoted’ hundreds of sentences, without ‘proper’ attribution — in order to advance a particular literary, aesthetic and philosophical principle but also as a way to be ‘bad’ and get spanked (for being bad)?”
Alas, he has been more frequently celebrated instead — for works, like “Reality Hunger,” that railed against lumbering, outmoded narratives (the novel) in favor of fleet new forms: fragments, rafts of sampled quotations, blurred genres. “The Trouble With Men” reprises this method; much of it is a collage of quotes, from his touchstones like Seneca and the literary critic Leslie Fiedler but also Reddit, porn chat rooms and Bernie Madoff’s mistress.
“The Trouble With Men” is unabashedly queasy. Reading about Shields’s lust for Pippa Middleton ranks among the more depressing literary experiences of my life. But it’s curious that he doesn’t reckon more with what it means to expose himself (and his wife) so openly — is it another bid for humiliation? Nor does he reckon with the fact that there is almost always something preening and aggressive in the act of enumerating one’s own weaknesses. “I’m always the poor pup who loses,” Shields whimpers — like all the top dogs apparently: “Was there, by the way, any ‘major’ modernist writer — Kafka, Woolf, Proust, Mann, Joyce, Eliot — who wasn’t flagrantly masochistic?”
I don’t want to be too hard on Shields, not least because I suspect he would enjoy it. I often found this book beguiling, and moving. There is always the temptation, in writing about sex, to sound superior, arch, immune to its power. But Shields writes from a place of genuine curiosity and confusion. He is ridiculous and brave, he never conflates sincerity with genuine candor, and he poses the kinds of questions that only ever bring trouble (and are the only kind worth reading about) — about sex, self-knowledge and the “theater” of our wounds. Can we recover from who we are? Would we want to?
“My mother reviled me,” Shields writes. “I can feel that in every footfall. My half-brother’s mother adored him, which has made him fat and sassy and self-satisfied and happy. Poor bastard.”B:
2017年白小姐半句玄诗【柒】【瑶】【躺】【在】【床】【上】，【脸】【色】【苍】【白】，【因】【为】【疼】【痛】【整】【个】【眉】【头】【皱】【在】【一】【起】，【纱】【衣】【被】【汗】【水】【浸】【透】【贴】【在】【身】【上】，【眼】【角】【还】【挂】【着】【泪】【痕】。 【妙】【春】【上】【仙】【取】【了】【一】【枚】【上】【次】【配】【制】【的】【药】【丸】【给】【她】【和】【水】【服】【下】，【使】【疼】【痛】【稍】【稍】【减】【弱】。 【锦】【绣】【站】【在】【床】【边】【神】【情】【不】【安】，【两】【手】【交】【握】，【手】【指】【紧】【紧】【纠】【在】【一】【起】，【指】【甲】【陷】【入】【皮】【肉】【却】【丝】【毫】【感】【觉】【不】【到】【痛】【楚】。【她】【在】【担】【心】，【担】【心】【伤】【害】【栖】【梧】【的】【事】【情】【会】【败】【露】
【德】【慧】【妃】【一】【走】，【气】【氛】【陡】【然】【突】【变】！ 【跪】【在】【地】【面】【的】【钱】【南】【新】【不】【知】【为】【何】【总】【觉】【得】【自】【己】【这】【一】【跪】【有】【些】【唐】【突】！ 【忽】【而】【想】【起】【之】【前】【问】【过】【宁】【儿】【有】【关】【津】【南】【国】【的】【礼】【节】。 【当】【时】【为】【的】【就】【是】【怕】【以】【后】【自】【己】【独】【身】【前】【往】【王】【宫】【时】，【因】【不】【懂】【行】【礼】【而】【被】【降】【罪】！ 【记】【得】【那】【时】【宁】【儿】【一】【头】【雾】【水】，【直】【言】【并】【不】【知】【晓】【王】【宫】【之】【中】【的】【礼】【数】！ 【之】【前】【在】【果】【然】【山】【随】【师】【父】【学】【习】【时】，【虽】【从】【各】
【燕】【王】【眉】【峰】【一】【凛】，【眼】【神】【瞬】【间】【变】【得】【冰】【冷】：“【王】【妃】……【似】【乎】【很】【怕】【本】【王】？” 【将】【自】【己】【贬】【低】【的】【一】【无】【是】【处】，【将】【他】【捧】【得】【高】【高】【在】【上】。 【然】【后】【他】【又】【岂】【能】【不】【知】，【她】【是】【在】【讽】【刺】【自】【己】，【对】【自】【己】【心】【存】【不】【满】？ 【飘】【梦】【菲】【勾】【着】【螓】【首】，“【妾】【身】【不】【敢】，【妾】【身】【是】【王】【爷】【的】【人】，【自】【然】【任】【凭】【王】【爷】【处】【置】。” 【他】【冷】【哼】【一】【声】：“【倒】【是】【识】【趣】，【过】【来】！” 【四】【目】【触】【碰】【下】
【之】【后】【苏】【天】【阳】【更】【是】【对】【着】【通】【北】【的】【一】【干】【人】【马】【说】【了】【诸】【多】【话】【语】，【大】【半】【都】【是】【官】【话】，【试】【图】【缓】【解】【一】【番】【彼】【此】【之】【间】【的】【关】【系】，【然】【后】【又】【是】【说】【了】【一】【些】【七】【七】【八】【八】【的】【许】【诺】，【也】【不】【知】【道】【是】【真】【是】【假】，【说】【的】【那】【是】【一】【个】【天】【花】【乱】【坠】。 【瞧】【见】【堂】【堂】【的】【苏】【殿】【王】【都】【这】【样】【了】，【众】【人】【心】【中】【的】【怨】【恨】【虽】【重】，【可】【眼】【下】【的】【局】【势】【谁】【也】【做】【不】【了】【主】，【为】【了】【大】【局】，【也】【只】【能】【应】【和】【下】【来】【了】。 【与】【此】【同】2017年白小姐半句玄诗“……” 【余】【宿】【寒】【被】【米】【小】【宛】【怼】【的】【没】【话】【说】。 【但】【是】【就】【算】【没】【话】【说】，【该】【做】【的】【还】【得】【做】。 【米】【小】【宛】【躺】【在】【病】【床】【上】，【护】【士】【过】【来】【操】【作】【仪】【器】。 【米】【小】【宛】【虽】【然】【嘴】【硬】，【但】【是】【也】【不】【会】【给】【医】【务】【人】【员】【添】【乱】。【让】【干】【什】【么】【干】【什】【么】，【自】【己】【难】【受】【的】【快】【要】【哭】【了】，【但】【是】【依】【旧】【强】【忍】【着】。 【不】【断】【的】【催】【吐】【让】【米】【小】【宛】【脸】【色】【苍】【白】，【躺】【在】【那】【里】【双】【手】【攥】【着】，【用】【力】【闭】【着】【眼】【睛】。
【当】【然】【这】【些】【都】【只】【是】【猜】【测】【而】【已】，【没】【有】【任】【何】【具】【有】【说】【服】【力】【的】【证】【据】【来】【证】【明】【这】【种】【假】【说】【的】【真】【假】，【很】【有】【可】【能】【只】【是】【单】【单】【的】【巧】【合】【罢】【了】。【值】【得】【一】【提】【的】【是】，【这】【个】【提】【出】【假】【说】【的】【人】【楚】【泽】【也】【认】【识】，【还】【很】【熟】【悉】，【正】【是】【之】【前】【交】【过】【手】【的】【焚】【夜】【身】【旁】【的】【军】【师】，【不】【见】【书】。 “【喏】，【就】【在】【那】【里】【了】。”【青】【瓷】【指】【着】【一】【块】【茂】【密】【的】【林】【木】。 【楚】【泽】【看】【向】【她】【指】【的】【方】【向】，【才】【知】【道】【青】【瓷】【这】
【冷】【哼】【一】【声】，【靳】【辰】【渊】【咬】【了】【咬】【牙】，【把】【这】【笔】【帐】【给】【记】【下】【来】【了】，【牵】【着】【靳】【向】【暖】【转】【身】【就】【进】【了】【屋】。 “【我】【让】【厨】【房】【给】【你】【准】【备】【了】【你】【喜】【欢】【吃】【的】【饭】【菜】，【你】【先】【去】【好】【好】【的】【洗】【个】【热】【水】【澡】，【然】【后】【换】【身】【干】【净】【衣】【服】【下】【来】【用】【餐】【知】【道】【吗】？” 【靳】【向】【暖】【点】【了】【点】【头】，【又】【抱】【着】【靳】【辰】【渊】【撒】【了】【下】【娇】，“【哥】【哥】，【我】【最】【爱】【你】【了】。” 【靳】【辰】【渊】【嗯】【了】【一】【声】，【拍】【了】【拍】【她】【的】【小】【脑】【袋】，“【你】