Leon Sciaky, Farewell to Salonica: City at the Crossroads讀後
偶然遇上的好書。文字溫瑩、細緻，如實記下一個人靜美的童年；亦側寫了巴爾幹戰爭前後，薩洛尼卡（即帖撒羅尼迦）作為一東西交會、文化族群混雜的港口城市，是怎樣在種種外來的壓迫、以至內部的人為盲動下，不可免地走向衰落。Truly widens one's horizon..
3/1/2024
書摘：
//We had been in the living room of the Little House for some time when the boom of the cannon announcing sunset rolled down from the tower of Yedi Kullé up on the hill. Like an answering echo, the tumult in the street increased in a happy greeting to the end of the fast. It rose to a roar for a while as vendors and shopkeepers, with renewed vigor, entreated the buyers and the stragglers hurried their steps toward home, where meals were waiting. Then gradually, like a storm that has spent itself, the hoarse voice of the city became a low rumble which slowly subsided into silence, a silence punctuated now and then by the sound of a store shutter being pulled down for the night.
The gold on the windows resolved itself into crimson, which glowed like a fire for a while. Then it faded away, and melted into dusk. A soft breeze came from the gulf, bellying and flattening the curtains like the peaceful breathing of slumber. Tia Gracia put down the cup of coffee she was still sipping, and with trembling fingers lit the kerosene lamp on the table. It shed a circle of yellow light, extending slightly beyond the table itself, while the rest of the room became bathed in the subdued greenish twilight cast by the lampshade. On the divan against the wall Grandfather sat by his mother, his strong shoulders contrasting singularly with the frail little woman with wrinkled face and bony hands.
In the quiet of this room an overwhelming sense of happiness came over me, a happiness so great that it brought a lump to my throat. For the first time I became conscious of being happy. Tears filled my eyes and the room became a tremulous green sea with a tiny golden island in its midst. Grandfather’s voice receded more and more until it reached me like a faint song, soft and caressing, like the murmur of the morning breeze through reeds and willows.//
偶然遇上的好書。文字溫瑩、細緻，如實記下一個人靜美的童年；亦側寫了巴爾幹戰爭前後，薩洛尼卡（即帖撒羅尼迦）作為一東西交會、文化族群混雜的港口城市，是怎樣在種種外來的壓迫、以至內部的人為盲動下，不可免地走向衰落。Truly widens one's horizon..
3/1/2024
書摘：
//We had been in the living room of the Little House for some time when the boom of the cannon announcing sunset rolled down from the tower of Yedi Kullé up on the hill. Like an answering echo, the tumult in the street increased in a happy greeting to the end of the fast. It rose to a roar for a while as vendors and shopkeepers, with renewed vigor, entreated the buyers and the stragglers hurried their steps toward home, where meals were waiting. Then gradually, like a storm that has spent itself, the hoarse voice of the city became a low rumble which slowly subsided into silence, a silence punctuated now and then by the sound of a store shutter being pulled down for the night.
The gold on the windows resolved itself into crimson, which glowed like a fire for a while. Then it faded away, and melted into dusk. A soft breeze came from the gulf, bellying and flattening the curtains like the peaceful breathing of slumber. Tia Gracia put down the cup of coffee she was still sipping, and with trembling fingers lit the kerosene lamp on the table. It shed a circle of yellow light, extending slightly beyond the table itself, while the rest of the room became bathed in the subdued greenish twilight cast by the lampshade. On the divan against the wall Grandfather sat by his mother, his strong shoulders contrasting singularly with the frail little woman with wrinkled face and bony hands.
In the quiet of this room an overwhelming sense of happiness came over me, a happiness so great that it brought a lump to my throat. For the first time I became conscious of being happy. Tears filled my eyes and the room became a tremulous green sea with a tiny golden island in its midst. Grandfather’s voice receded more and more until it reached me like a faint song, soft and caressing, like the murmur of the morning breeze through reeds and willows.//
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