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发信人: Christy (绿叶~~捣鼓六仙捣毁仙), 信区: English
标 题: A Piece everyday
发信站: 哈工大紫丁香 (2002年07月13日22:42:21 星期六), 站内信件
Heads we win
Alexander Chancellor
Saturday July 13, 2002
The Guardian
I wonder why I keep reading Antony Beevor's unbelievably gloomy books about
the second world war. Despite a profound lack of interest in military matter
s, I read the whole of Stalingrad, a pretty long book, and am now in the mid
dle of another equally long one, Berlin: The Downfall 1945. Both describe mi
litary campaigns conducted in the midst of unimaginable mass cruelty - tortu
re, starvation, rape and death on a monumental scale. It appears I am not al
one in wishing to dwell on these dreadful matters, for both books are bestse
llers. But I would like all the same to examine my own motives.
Even without an interest in military history, there are various reasons why
people might be drawn to Mr Beevor's books. Some may wish to make use of his
meticulous research to deepen their knowledge and understanding of episodes
of unparalleled infamy in human affairs. Some may hope to learn lessons fro
m these horrors in order to prevent them ever happening again. Some may have
an obsessive interest in the characters of those two monsters, Adolf Hitler
and Joseph Stalin. Many may simply be titillated by the spectre of man at h
is most vile, indulging all his most barbarous instincts with the approval a
nd encouragement of the state.
I expect that there may be a bit of fascination with evil at work in my case
, too, but I don't think this is the principal reason for my interest in the
se books. Nor, alas, do I read them in the hope of contributing more to the
future welfare of mankind. No, I fear that my principal motive is very self-
centred. I think that I'm reading Berlin: The Downfall mainly because I hope
it will cheer me up. I am expecting that Mr Beevor's vivid portrayal of ext
reme misery and suffering will put my own petty discontents into perspective
and make me conscious of my extraordinary good fortune.
But unfortunately, it doesn't work. I am more depressed than titillated by t
he disgusting way the Germans treated the Russians and the Russians treated
the Germans, not to mention the way each treated their own compatriots. I ma
rvel as usual at the way people will do anything to survive, even when survi
val would appear to have little point left to it. But their travails do not
make me any less despondent about the state of my bank balance or whatever o
ther little matter may be troubling me.
It is very strange, that. Why am I not capable of rising above my own concer
ns and recognising how ridiculously insignificant they are? Why is it as oft
en millionaires as it is people without a bean or a prospect who put bullets
through their heads? Is it possible that people facing utter disaster come
to attach more value to life than those living in luxury and security?
I suppose the world is broadly divided into two types of people: those whose
satisfactions come from wrestling with the problems of mankind, and those w
ho are engaged in the pursuit of personal fulfilment. The former are often w
ildly misguided, not to say mad. The 37-year-old "theatrical producer", Paul
Kelleher, who lopped off the head of a marble statue of Margaret Thatcher i
n the Guildhall art gallery in order "to highlight his concerns about the fu
ture of the world and the future of his two-year-old son" obviously wasn't d
oing anything to assist, either. Even if, as was claimed in court last week,
Mr Kelleher considered that "people like Baroness Thatcher were the cause o
f capitalism and global problems", he could hardly have believed that decapi
tating her effigy would put an end to those evils.
Even so, I have a sneaking admiration for Mr Kelleher as he was described in
the press accounts of his court appearance. A friend of the Kelleher family
told the court that he was always trying "to put the world to rights", that
"he never does anybody any harm", that "he only wants the best for everybod
y". "He is a bit of an anarchist and a free spirit," she went on. "He is ver
y much against authority and believes in standing up for your rights." He wa
s, however, "an idiot", she added. And he may be as idle and ineffectual as
one of his parents' neighbours in Blackpool indicated when he remarked: "As
for beheading Mrs Thatcher - well, in his younger days, he would not even cu
t the lawn."
I will finish Beevor's book in the lingering hope that it may still achieve
the desired effect. But if it doesn't, I may strive to become a bit more lik
e Mr Kelleher, even if I draw the line at cutting off heads.
--
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