赵毅衡：川沙诗选集《春夜集》序(2)

　　
　　There But Not There: The Muses
　　Zhao Yi-heng
　　
　　There has been a doubt if poetry is analyzable. Our scholarly forerunners told us that they preferred to set it in between. A poem can be analyzed because it has words, or it will not become readable. As for the other part, to understand the context made up of words is not sufficient at all to cross the gap and grasp the true meaning of the poem.

　　From this point of view, poetry might be designed on purpose to be incomprehensible. If I say I understand all in Mr. Chuan Sha's poetry, I am simply nuts. And if I go further to assure you that not only have I understood his poetry, but also will regard myself the only one qualified to write a "Preface" for his book, I will be nothing short of a lunatic. Confucius said, "Isn't it true that if one can not take the middle way in acting he is either crazy or impatient? A crazy man proceeds to possess, while the impatient selects to act." If I cannot choose to be impatient, I have to act crazy. Yet, even with the aggressive intention, I wonder if I am set to obtain anything.

　　There seems to be, therefore, only one way left to solve the problem: to act as if you were crazy. I do not mean that I pretend to be an expert on something, whereas I know very little, but that I am bold enough to do something that I will never be able to do well. In other words, I am writing something about which I feel most clumsy. Am I sane to do so? The answer is yes, as there is no other way more justifiable. Poetry itself is actually an effort the poet exercises to look into a mystery, a trial to surpass the language limit from within, and an attempt to obtain something unanalyzable by something analyzable.

　　I remember some scholar saying that it is impossible for a heart not to respond, and to obtain, for a language not to be used, and for communication to go on in silence. Truth exists either beyond the text, or between the words. The true meaning, therefore, becomes obvious even when the poet stops to continue. Silence speaks more, simply because the words are a greater challenge.

　　What Mr. Chuan Sha gives us is not just a meaning, but also a way to play with the meaning, a promise set to be realized. In my opinion, this explains why a poem is called a poem.

　　I think it fit to say that many of Mr. Chuan Sha's poems belong to some sort of game. The difference lies that this game is extremely serious, as it grabs your throat rather than to offer you something cool and nice with a pure context. You may therefore feel a thrill of pleasure of being choked as well as a piercing pain with it. Even when your body and soul have come to the verge of a collapse, you still have the feeling that you are alive, with the little remaining air. Only at the time you have learned to withhold yourself will you find from inside the right wording.

　　I can tell that Mr. Chuan Sha has suddenly come to realize something in his work, but I am not sure if I would have felt the same. Nor will I be sure of the other readers. However, if we try, we will sooner or later catch the Muses within their shifting eyes. We will then be freed from the daily ordinary routines, and be blessed.

　　London, England June 2004　
　　
　　2004 6 21 英国伦敦