2015年8月31日 星期一

蔣介石一輩子在打仗(江春男)

司馬觀點:蔣介石一輩子在打仗(江春男)

2015年8月30日 星期日

柯P炫風飆龍井、台中

柯市長說得好:沒有洪案和太陽花革命,就沒有今日的他。
可加一句:沒有過去2年的事件,台灣的主體性就幾乎沉淪,因為國共再合作......


台北市長柯文哲今(30)除到中部彰化參觀農業外,晚上冒著風雨到台中市龍井區和鄉親「話家常」,民眾踴躍出席,出現罕見的非政治選舉的熱 烈場面。柯P今晚7點到龍井國小與臺中海線鄉親共聚一堂,舉辦「改變,從…
PEOPLENEWS.TW

Oliver Sacks: Sabbath. Oliver Sacks, Casting Light on the Interconnectedness of Life




Photo

Oliver Sacks in 2001. CreditAndrea Mohin/The New York Times

It’s no coincidence that so many of the qualities that made Oliver Sackssuch a brilliant writer are the same qualities that made him an ideal doctor: keen powers of observation and a devotion to detail, deep reservoirs of sympathy, and an intuitive understanding of the fathomless mysteries of the human brain and the intricate connections between the body and the mind.
Dr. Sacks, who died on Sunday at 82, was a polymath and an ardent humanist, and whether he was writing about his patients, or his love of chemistry or the power of music, he leapfrogged among disciplines, shedding light on the strange and wonderful interconnectedness of life — the connections between science and art, physiology and psychology, the beauty and economy of the natural world and the magic of the human imagination.
In his writings, as he once said of his mentor, the great Soviet neuropsychologist and author A. R. Luria, “science became poetry.”


In books like “Awakenings,” “The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat” and “An Anthropologist on Mars,” Dr. Sacks — a longtime practicing doctor and a professor of neurology at the New York University School of Medicine — gave us case studies of patients whose stories were so odd, so anomalous, so resonant that they read like tales by Borges or Calvino. A man, with acute amnesia, who loses three decades of his life and lives wholly in the immediate present, unable to remember anything for more than a minute or two. Idiot savant twins, who can’t deal with the most mundane tasks of daily life but can perform astonishing numerical tricks, like memorizing 300-digit numbers or rattling off 20-digit primes. A blind poet who suffers from — or is gifted with — extraordinarily complexhallucinations: a milkman in an azure cart with a golden horse; small flocks of birds wearing shoes that metamorphose into men and women in medieval clothes.


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Dr. Oliver Sacks, Explorer of the Brain

Dr. Oliver Sacks was a neurologist and best-selling author who explored the brain’s strangest pathways. His work touched Hollywood, theater, even opera, and his legacy lasts in the stories he told.
 By POH SI TENG on Publish DateAugust 30, 2015. Photo by Sara Krulwich/The New York Times.Watch in Times Video »

Dr. Sacks depicted such people not as scientific curiosities but as individuals who become as real to us as characters by Chekhov (another doctor who wrote with uncommon empathy and insight). He was concerned with the impact that his patients’ neurological disorders had on their day-to-day routines, their relationships and their inner lives. His case studies became literary narratives as dramatic, richly detailed and compelling as those by Freud and Luria — stories that underscored not the marginality of his patients’ experiences, but their part in the shared human endeavor and the flux and contingencies of life.
Those case studies captured the emotional and metaphysical, as well as physiological, dimensions of his patients’ conditions. While they tracked the costs and isolation these individuals often endured, they also emphasized people’s resilience — their ability to adapt to their “deficits,” enabling them to hold onto a sense of identity and agency. Some even find that their conditions spur them to startling creative achievement.
In fact, Dr. Sacks wrote in “An Anthropologist on Mars,” illnesses and disorders “can play a paradoxical role in bringing out latent powers, developments, evolutions, forms of life that might never be seen or even be imaginable in their absence.” A young woman with a low I.Q. learns to sing arias in more than 30 languages, and a Canadian physician with Tourette’s syndrome learns to perform long, complicated surgical procedures without a single tic or twitch. Some scholars believe, Dr. Sacks once wrote, that Dostoyevsky and van Gogh may have had temporal lobeepilepsy, that Bartok and Wittgenstein may have been autistic, and that Mozart and Samuel Johnson could have had Tourette’s syndrome.
In his later books, Dr. Sacks increasingly turned to chronicling his own life — from his deep love of chemistry as a boy in “Uncle Tungsten,” to his experiments with L.S.D. and amphetamines in “Hallucinations,” to his coming of age as a young man and as a doctor in “On the Move.” It was a life as eclectic and adventurous as his intellectual pursuits, taking him from medical school in England to a stint as a forest firefighter in British Columbia to medical residencies and fellowship work in San Francisco and Los Angeles. He held a weight-lifting record in California, and on weekends, sometimes drove hundreds of miles on his motorcycle, from California to Las Vegas or Death Valley or the Grand Canyon.

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OP-EDS BY OLIVER SACKS IN THE TIMES


Animated by a self-deprecating sense of humor and set down in limber, pointillist prose, Dr. Sacks’s autobiographical accounts are as candid and searching as his writings about his patients, and they suggest just how rooted his compassion and intuitive understanding — as a doctor and a writer — were in his youthful feelings of fear and dislocation. He tells us about the lasting shock of being evacuated from London as a boy during the war, and being beaten and bullied at boarding school. The rest of his life, he writes, he would have trouble with the 3 B’s: “bonding, belonging, and believing.”
He also writes about the frightening psychotic episodes of his schizophrenic brother, Michael, and his own feelings of shame for not spending more time with him — and his simultaneous need to get away. Science, with its promise of order and logic, provided a refuge for young Oliver from the chaos of his brother’s madness, and medicine promised both family continuity (his father was a general practitioner; his mother, a surgeon) and a way to study and try to understand brain disorders like Michael’s.
Dr. Sacks once described himself as a man with an “extreme immoderation in all my passions,” and his books pulsate with his “violent enthusiasms” and endless curiosity: his fascination with ferns, cephalopods, jellyfish, volcanoes, the periodic table — for all the marvels of the natural world; as well as his passion for swimming, chemistry, photography and perhaps most of all, writing. Known as Inky as a child, he began keeping journals at the age of 14. For the shy boy, writing was a way to connect with the world, a way to order his thoughts; and he kept up the habit throughout his life, amassing nearly a thousand journals, while using his books and essays to communicate to readers the romance of science and the creative and creaturely blessings of being alive.
Inclined to living “at a certain distance from life,” Dr. Sacks writes that he unexpectedly fell in love — “(for God’s sake!) I was in my 77th year” — with the writer Bill Hayes, which meant relinquishing “the habits of a lifetime’s solitude,” like decades of meals that consisted mostly of cereal or sardines, eaten “out of the tin, standing up, in 30 seconds.”
In February, Dr. Sacks wrote in an Op-Ed essay in The New York Times about learning that he had terminal cancer and had just months to live. “I cannot pretend I am without fear,” he wrote. “But my predominant feeling is one of gratitude. I have loved and been loved; I have been given much and I have given something in return; I have read and traveled and thought and written. I have had an intercourse with the world, the special intercourse of writers and readers.
“Above all, I have been a sentient being, a thinking animal, on this beautiful planet, and that in itself has been an enormous privilege and adventure.” His patients have lost an erudite and compassionate doctor. The world has lost a writer of immense talent and heart, a writer who helped illuminate the wonders, losses and consolations of the human condition.


Oliver Sacks spoke to Joan Bakewell ; A General Feeling of Disorder By Oliver Sacks



A fascinating, wide-ranging discussion. He talks about his early life, his writing, his beliefs, death, his experiments with LSD...
The author and neurologist has died, aged 82. This Radio 3 programme is from 2013.
BBC.IN




Oliver Sacks has died. A longtime contributor to The New York Review, he wrote in our pages earlier this year about illness and recovery.

A General Feeling of Disorder by Oliver Sacks
On Monday, February 16, I could say I felt well, in my usual state of health—at least such health and energy as a fairly active eighty-one-year-old can hope to enjoy—and this despite learning, a month earlier, that much of my...
NYBOOKS.COM


A General Feeling of Disorder


sacks_1-042315.jpg
Magnum Photos
Newcastle Beach, New South Wales, Australia, 2000; photograph by Trent Parke

1.

Nothing is more crucial to the survival and independence of organisms—be they elephants or protozoa—than the maintenance of a constant internal environment. Claude Bernard, the great French physiologist, said everything on this matter when, in the 1850s, he wrote, “La fixité du milieu intérieur est la condition de la vie libre.” Maintaining such constancy is called homeostasis. The basics of homeostasis are relatively simple but miraculously efficient at the cellular level, where ion pumps in cell membranes allow the chemical interior of cells to remain constant, whatever the vicissitudes of the external environment. More complex monitoring systems are demanded when it comes to ensuring homeostasis in multicellular organisms—animals, and human beings, in particular.
Homeostatic regulation is accomplished by the development of special nerve cells and nerve nets (plexuses) scattered throughout our bodies, as well as by direct chemical means (hormones, etc.). These scattered nerve cells and plexuses become organized into a system or confederation that is largely autonomous in its functioning; hence its name, the autonomic nervous system (ANS). The ANS was only recognized and explored in the early part of the twentieth century, whereas many of the functions of the central nervous system (CNS), especially the brain, had already been mapped in detail in the nineteenth century. This is something of a paradox, for the autonomic nervous system evolved long before the central nervous system.
They were (and to a considerable extent still are) independent evolutions, extremely different in organization, as well as formation. Central nervous systems, along with muscles and sense organs, evolved to allow animals to get around in the world—forage, hunt, seek mates, avoid or fight enemies, etc. The central nervous system, with its sense organs (including those in the joints, the muscles, the movable parts of the body), tells one who one is and what one is doing. The autonomic nervous system, sleeplessly monitoring every organ and tissue in the body, tells one how one is. Curiously, the brain itself has no sense organs, which is why one can have gross disorders here, yet feel no malaise. Thus Ralph Waldo Emerson, who developed Alzheimer’s disease in his sixties, would say, “I have lost my mental faculties but am perfectly well.”
By the early twentieth century, two general divisions of the autonomic nervous system were recognized: a “sympathetic” part, which, by increasing the heart’s output, sharpening the senses, and tensing the muscles, readies an animal for action (in extreme situations, for instance, life-saving fight or flight); and the corresponding opposite—a “parasympathetic” part—which increases activity in the “housekeeping” parts of the body (gut, kidneys, liver, etc.), slowing the heart and promoting relaxation and sleep. These two portions of the ANS work, normally, in a happy reciprocity; thus the delicious postprandial somnolence that follows a heavy meal is not the time to run a race or get into a fight. When the two parts of the ANS are working harmoniously together, one feels “well,” or “normal.”
No one has written more eloquently about this than Antonio Damasio in his book The Feeling of What Happens and many subsequent books and papers. He speaks of a “core consciousness,” the basic feeling of how one is, which eventually becomes a dim, implicit feeling of consciousness.1 It is especially when things are going wrong, internally—when homeostasis is not being maintained; when the autonomic balance starts listing heavily to one side or the other—that this core consciousness, the feeling of how one is, takes on an intrusive, unpleasant quality, and now one will say, “I feel ill—something is amiss.” At such times one no longer looks well either.
As an example of this, migraine is a sort of prototype illness, often very unpleasant but transient, and self-limiting; benign in the sense that it does not cause death or serious injury and that it is not associated with any tissue damage or trauma or infection; and occurring only as an often-hereditary disturbance of the nervous system. Migraine provides, in miniature, the essential features of being ill—of trouble inside the body—without actual illness.
When I came to New York, nearly fifty years ago, the first patients I saw suffered from attacks of migraine—“common migraine,” so called because it attacks at least 10 percent of the population. (I myself have had attacks of them throughout my life.2) Seeing such patients, trying to understand or help them, constituted my apprenticeship in medicine—and led to my first book, Migraine.
Though there are many (one is tempted to say, innumerable) possible presentations of common migraine—I described nearly a hundred such in my book—its commonest harbinger may be just an indefinable but undeniable feeling of something amiss. This is exactly what Emil du Bois-Reymond emphasized when, in 1860, he described his own attacks of migraine: “I wake,” he writes, “with a general feeling of disorder….”
In his case (he had had migraines every three to four weeks, since his twentieth year), there would be “a slight pain in the region of the right temple which…reaches its greatest intensity at midday; towards evening it usually passes off…. At rest the pain is bearable, but it is increased by motion to a high degree of violence…. It responds to each beat of the temporal artery.” Moreover, du Bois-Reymond looked different during his migraines: “The countenance is pale and sunken, the right eye small and reddened.” During violent attacks he would experience nausea and “gastric disorder.” The “general feeling of disorder” that so often inaugurates migraines may continue, getting more and more severe in the course of an attack; the worst- affected patients may be reduced to lying in a leaden haze, feeling half-dead, or even that death would be preferable.3
I cite du Bois-Reymond’s self- description, as I do at the very beginning of Migraine, partly for its precision and beauty (as are common in nineteenth-century neurological descriptions, but rare now), but above all, because it is exemplary—all cases of migraine vary, but they are, so to speak, permutations of his.
The vascular and visceral symptoms of migraine are typical of unbridled parasympathetic activity, but they may be preceded by a physiologically opposite state. One may feel full of energy, even a sort of euphoria, for a few hours before a migraine—George Eliot would speak of herself as feeling “dangerously well” at such times. There may, similarly, especially if the suffering has been very intense, be a “rebound”after a migraine. This was very clear with one of my patients (Case #68 in Migraine), a young mathematician with very severe migraines. For him the resolution of a migraine, accompanied by a huge passage of pale urine, was always followed by a burst of original mathematical thinking. “Curing” his migraines, we found, “cured” his mathematical creativity, and he elected, given this strange economy of body and mind, to keep both.
While this is the general pattern of a migraine, there can occur rapidly changing fluctuations and contradictory symptoms—a feeling that patients often call “unsettled.” In this unsettled state (I wrote in Migraine), “one may feel hot or cold, or both…bloated and tight, or loose and queasy; a peculiar tension, or languor, or both…sundry strains and discomforts, which come and go.”
Indeed, everything comes and goes, and if one could take a scan or inner photograph of the body at such times, one would see vascular beds opening and closing, peristalsis accelerating or stopping, viscera squirming or tightening in spasms, secretions suddenly increasing or decreasing—as if the nervous system itself were in a state of indecision. Instability, fluctuation, and oscillation are of the essence in the unsettled state, this general feeling of disorder. We lose the normal feeling of “wellness,” which all of us, and perhaps all animals, have in health.

2.

If new thoughts about illness and recovery—or old thoughts in new form—have been stimulated by thinking back to my first patients, they have been given an unexpected salience by a very different personal experience in recent weeks.
On Monday, February 16, I could say I felt well, in my usual state of health—at least such health and energy as a fairly active eighty-one-year-old can hope to enjoy—and this despite learning, a month earlier, that much of my liver was occupied by metastatic cancer. Various palliative treatments had been suggested—treatments that might reduce the load of metastases in my liver and permit a few extra months of life. The one I opted for, decided to try first, involved my surgeon, an interventional radiologist, threading a catheter up to the bifurcation of the hepatic artery, and then injecting a mass of tiny beads into the right hepatic artery, where they would be carried to the smallest arterioles, blocking these, cutting off the blood supply and oxygen needed by the metastases—in effect, starving and asphyxiating them to death. (My surgeon, who has a gift for vivid metaphor, compared this to killing rats in the basement; or, in a pleasanter image, mowing down the dandelions on the back lawn.) If such an embolization proved to be effective, and tolerated, it could be done on the other side of the liver (the dandelions on the front lawn) a month or so later.
The procedure, though relatively benign, would lead to the death of a huge mass of melanoma cells (almost 50 percent of my liver had been occupied by metastases). These, in dying, would give off a variety of unpleasant and pain-producing substances, and would then have to be removed, as all dead material must be removed from the body. This immense task of garbage disposal would be undertaken by cells of the immune system—macrophages—that are specialized to engulf alien or dead matter in the body. I might think of them, my surgeon suggested, as tiny spiders, millions or perhaps billions in number, scurrying inside me, engulfing the melanoma debris. This enormous cellular task would sap all my energy, and I would feel, in consequence, a tiredness beyond anything I had ever felt before, to say nothing of pain and other problems.
I am glad I was forewarned, for the following day (Tuesday, the seventeenth), soon after waking from the embolization—it was performed under general anesthesia—I was to be assailed by feelings of excruciating tiredness and paroxysms of sleep so abrupt they could poleaxe me in the middle of a sentence or a mouthful, or when visiting friends were talking or laughing loudly a yard away from me. Sometimes, too, delirium would seize me within seconds, even in the middle of handwriting. I felt extremely weak and inert—I would sometimes sit motionless until hoisted to my feet and walked by two helpers. While pain seemed tolerable at rest, an involuntary movement such as a sneeze or hiccup would produce an explosion, a sort of negative orgasm of pain, despite my being maintained, like all post-embolization patients, on a continuous intravenous infusion of narcotics. This massive infusion of narcotics halted all bowel activity for nearly a week, so that everything I ate—I had no appetite, but had to “take nourishment,” as the nursing staff put it—was retained inside me.
Another problem—not uncommon after the embolization of a large part of the liver—was a release of ADH, anti-diuretic hormone, which caused an enormous accumulation of fluid in my body. My feet became so swollen they were almost unrecognizable asfeet, and I developed a thick tire of edema around my trunk. This “hyperhydration” led to lowered levels of sodium in my blood, which probably contributed to my deliria. With all this, and a variety of other symptoms—temperature regulation was unstable, I would be hot one minute, cold the next—I felt awful. I had “a general feeling of disorder” raised to an almost infinite degree. If I had to feel like this from now on, I kept thinking, I would sooner be dead.
I stayed in the hospital for six days after embolization, and then returned home. Although I still felt worse than I had ever felt in my life, I did in fact feel a little better, minimally better, with each passing day (and everyone told me, as they tend to tell sick people, that I was looking “great”). I still had sudden, overwhelming paroxysms of sleep, but I forced myself to work, correcting the galleys of my autobiography (even though I might fall asleep in mid-sentence, my head dropping heavily onto the galleys, my hand still clutching a pen). These post-embolization days would have been very difficult to endure without this task (which was also a joy).
On day ten, I turned a corner—I felt awful, as usual, in the morning, but a completely different person in the afternoon. This was delightful, and wholly unexpected: there was no intimation, beforehand, that such a transformation was about to happen. I regained some appetite, my bowels started working again, and on February 28 and March 1, I had a huge and delicious diuresis, losing fifteen pounds over the course of two days. I suddenly found myself full of physical and creative energy and a euphoria almost akin to hypomania. I strode up and down the corridor in my apartment building while exuberant thoughts rushed through my mind.
How much of this was a reestablishment of balance in the body; how much an autonomic rebound after a profound autonomic depression; how much other physiological factors; and how much the sheer joy of writing, I do not know. But my transformed state and feeling were, I suspect, very close to what Nietzsche experienced after a period of illness and expressed so lyrically in The Gay Science:
Gratitude pours forth continually, as if the unexpected had just happened—the gratitude of a convalescent—for convalescence was unexpected…. The rejoicing of strength that is returning, of a reawakened faith in a tomorrow and the day after tomorrow, of a sudden sense and anticipation of a future, of impending adventures, of seas that are open again.

Epilogue

The hepatic artery embolization destroyed 80 percent of the tumors in my liver. Now, three weeks later, I am having the remainder of the metastases embolized. With this, I hope I may feel really well for three or four months, in a way that, perhaps, with so many metastases growing inside me and draining my energy for a year or more, would scarcely have been possible before.
  1. 1
    Antonio Damasio and Gil B. Carvalho, “The Nature of Feelings: Evolutionary and Neurobiological Origins,” Nature Reviews Neuroscience, Vol. 14 (February 2013). 
  2. 2
    I also have attacks of “migraine aura,” with scintillating zigzag patterns and other visual phenomena. They, for me, have no obvious relation to my “common” migraines, but for many others the two are linked, this hybrid attack being called a “classical” migraine. 
  3. 3
    Aretaeus noted in the second century that patients in such a state “are weary of life and wish to die.” Such feelings, while they may originate, and be correlated with, autonomic imbalance, must connect with those “central” parts of the ANS in which feeling, mood, sentience, and (core) consciousness are mediated—the brainstem, hypothalamus, amygdala, and other subcortical structures. 

王洞 (Della Wang)遊台談先夫夏志清情史。姜允中

先前讀過夏志清情史,覺得是私事,所以沒錄。文中有幾處錯字,懶得再讀、更正。
夏志清在世的親人包括1969年與他結婚的妻子王洞(Della Wang);兩個女兒喬伊斯·麥克萊恩(Joyce McClain)和夏自珍(Natalie Hsia);兒子夏明;妹妹夏玉英;以及四個(外)孫子/孫女。



夏志清遺孀:遭人毀謗後,我必須說出這些夏志清情史

王洞

2015-08-30 07:33
夏志清夫婦

早在2014年9月,王德威告訴我,他明春休假,預備在台北“中央研究院”為夏志清舉辦一個紀念研討會,屆時會邀我出席。他建議在會前出版一部分志清與濟安的通信,並請蘇州大學的季進教授參與編註。由聯經出版社胡金倫總經理大力推動,獲得發行人林載爵先生的支持,在叢書主編沙淑芬女士精心策劃下,《書信集》第一卷在今年4月23日問世,正是我啟程飛台的日子。在濟安逝世五十年後,出版他與弟弟的通信,別具一番意義。更為研討會留下永恆的紀念,感謝德威設想周全。

25日凌晨五時抵台,德威前來接機,把我送到福華飯店,安頓妥當,才放心地回家休息。翌日中午王媽媽率領王府成員德威、德輝、寶瑜設宴款待。德威在哥大時,王媽媽曾來過紐約,德威沒有引見。原來志清“左擁右抱,毛手毛腳”的惡名在外,王媽媽拒絕會見志清。此說逗得眾人哈哈大笑。王媽媽姜允中女士,長志清四歲,我稱“允中大姐”,是了不起的女中豪傑。她十六歲參加道德重整會抗日。後輾轉來到台灣,重建萬國道德會,興辦幼兒園,熱心公益事業,嘗請益於博學多才的東北國大代表王鏡仁先生。日久生情,結為夫婦。德威何其有幸,繼承了父親的文采、母親的干才。我對允中大姐仰慕已久,看見她九八高齡,清健幽默,讓人如沐春風,一頓午飯吃下來,心曠神怡,一掃旅途勞頓。

回到旅館,稍事休息,金倫即來接我赴《聯合文學》雜誌前發行人張寶琴的晚宴。一見面,寶琴即抱住我,我不記得她怎麼說的,意思是最後勝利的是我,卻勾起了我痛苦的回憶。1979年秋《聯合報》副刊一編輯迎接評審委員夏志清,就與志清談起戀愛來。戀情長達七年之久。1986年志清向我發下了離婚書,但律師說,他理由不充分,除非我同意,因此不了了之。我感謝寶琴送這位編輯出國,她找到瞭如意郎君,這才放棄了志清。寶琴的父親張金鑑世伯,留學美國,是著名的“立法委員”。張世伯像胡適一樣偉大,不因自己是留學生,受了新思潮的衝擊而遺棄糟糠,張伯母惠而美。我在台北找工作時請張世伯寫推薦信,出國時也請他在保證書上蓋章。我去過寶琴家幾次,那時她還是初中生。看見寶琴,就想起張伯母,她像母親一樣美麗。如今我已是八十老嫗,歷盡滄桑,乍見故人,怎不落淚?

4月27日早上九點二十分,德威的弟弟德輝來接我,十點整準時到達,會場裡擠滿了人。我在台上,看見許多親朋好友遠道而來,十分感動。研討會由中國文哲研究所胡曉真所長開場,王汎森副院長致辭。2010年志清虛歲九十,德威趁王副院長來美之便,在希爾頓飯店舉辦了一個隆重的慶生會。王副院長代表中研院給志清頒發院士當選證書及院士徽章,席間曾說中學時看過《夏濟安日記》,深受感動。王副院長溫文儒雅,這是第二次見面,不感到生疏,我就幽他一默,請大家猜猜,《書信集》的《前言》裡,我提到那位讀過《夏濟安日記》的貴賓是誰。我五十年來第一次登台講話,不免緊張,說話不夠流利,竟忘了向研討會主辦人胡所長致謝。

接下來,討論夏氏兄弟與中國文學研究,第二場討論夏志清的文學觀。午餐後,新書發表會,我忙著謝聯經出版公司林載爵發行人、胡金倫總經理,竟忘了謝《書信集》的大功臣季進教授。第三場,主題是夏志清的小說史。張鳳女士提問,為何復旦大學出版的《小說史》刪減太多。復旦的《小說史》是陳子善教授經手的,我代替陳教授回答,夏志清的書,不刪減是出不來的,不被扭曲已經很好了。我趁機謝謝陳先生多年來為志清義務服務。第四場是當代小說家論夏志清,由王德威教授主持。朱天文談她父親西寧先生與志清的交往。1979年秋,西寧先生與志清一同擔任“聯合報小說獎”中篇小說評審委員,他們一致認為蔣曉雲的《姻緣路》應得首獎,其他評審委員都推薦鄉土文學的《榕》,於是,就顯得好像志清反對鄉土文學似的。爭辯激烈,志清堅持己見,顯得很“霸道”的樣子。以後《聯合報》再未請他做評審。我就趁天文提到鄉土文學,在台下舉手發言,說志清不反對鄉土文學,譬如他很喜歡黃春明、王禎和、七等生的作品。於是由黃春明扯到陳若曦,主動說明志清的第一次婚變, 澄清外界的謠傳。

原來九歌出版社2008年出版了《堅持·無悔——陳若曦七十自述》一書,我看到的是2011年出的增訂版。作者在第四十五節《中國男人的寶玉情結》裡,指名道姓地毀謗我、志清及其前妻。她寫道:

原配早不滿丈夫喜歡中國女生,等發現他和王洞談戀愛了,竟和人私奔並鐵了心離婚。之後夏順利娶了王洞,不幸生下的女兒有自閉症,為婚姻蒙上陰影。(見《堅持·無悔——陳若曦七十自述》增訂版,253-254頁)

話說夏公這回認真要求離婚,王洞光念及有病的女兒不肯答應,曾氣得拿刀割傷丈夫的手腕。他應邀來柏克萊演講,我去接機,見面談起就撩起袖子示傷痕。可見嚴重性。(254頁)

熱戀中的夏公,言行啟人疑竇,王洞為解謎團,用酒灌醉了丈夫,乘機偷了他日夜都係在腰間的辦公室抽屜鑰匙,連夜奔哥倫比亞大學去。打開抽屜,滿滿是夏公女性友人的信,最上面一封是剛寄來的信。披讀之下,竟是一首露骨的情詩。疾恨交加之下,她拿去拷貝了幾份,分寄台灣報館和文壇人士,也送了一份給叢蘇。(254頁)

許多文友看了,覺得她不應該這樣寫志清,她振振有詞地在《再版感言》裡寫道:

生平交友甚廣,聽聞他人隱私所在多有,但寫出來的必有關國族尊嚴或為友人抱不平如江南案。像夏志清教授、實為其妻創作的信,牽涉到文友黃春明,不得不如實報導;尊重出版社的建議,隱去其中一位人名。人情世故十分繁雜,但我相信真相比什麼都強。

我不認識黃春明,為什麼要說他壞話?我可能在給朋友的信裡提到過黃春明。原來當年志清去南加州演講,不飛洛杉磯,卻在舊金山下機。我問志清為什麼?回說要去看Lucy(陳若曦)。我不許他去,他只好爽約。Lucy回信說她不是一人去接機,是約了黃春明一起去的。她就依此編造故事,說我寫信毀謗黃春明。因此,研討會上我的話題由鄉土文學談起。我對Lucy誣衊我,耿耿於懷,我這次回台除了參加研討會,就是要找位律師,控告Lucy及其出版商。可惜日程安排很緊湊,沒有時間找律師。天文的演講給了我一個辯解的機會,我顧不得煞風景,在大家都稱頌志清的貢獻時,大講其婚外情。既然說了,我就如實報導。



我1967年來哥大工作,一過勞動節,就來東亞系報到。那時9月底才開學,系裡叫我暫時在我老闆丁愛博(Albert Dien)教授的研究室工作,就坐在志清書桌的對面。我的工作是編寫教材,供語言老師錄音。我去潘紉秋老師的辦公室借錄音機,潘老師便請我去中國城吃晚飯。第二天,大約十一點,夏志清教授進來了,問了我一些話,就要請我吃午飯。我心想哥大的老師真好客,昨天潘老師請吃晚飯,今天夏教授請吃午飯,卻之不恭,就跟夏教授沿著百老匯走到一百一十街二樓一家叫“新月”的飯館。坐定後,他便說:“我要跟太太離婚,我想跟你做個朋友。”我嚇了一跳,不知該怎麼回答,只好不吭聲。他接著說:“叢蘇說Lucy想來看我,我因事忙,一直拖到除夕才請她們在飯館見面。飯後把太太、女兒打發回家,就帶她們去格林威治村狂歡。沒想到那麼貴,我的錢不夠,Lucy墊的,第二天我去還錢。她回學校後,我就跟太太說:'我愛Lucy,我們離婚吧!'我太太就大哭。沒想到Lucy不要嫁結過婚的人,她左派,有時會來找我借書,她婚後真回大陸報效祖國去了。後來Helen(於梨華)搬來紐約郊區,要我寫序,我又跟她談起戀愛了,我太太受不了,找了一個男朋友,我們就決定離婚。”我這一頓飯吃得心驚膽跳,也不知吃了些什麼。我回家後就告訴潘老師。潘老師就說男人都是壞東西,別理他。我問:“我不跟他做朋友的話,他會不會害我?”潘老師說他人很好,不會害人。翌日,潘老師告訴我夏教授真的要跟太太離婚。



我非常在乎自己的名譽。我不願替Lucy與Helen背黑鍋。《堅持·無悔》一書裡,至少有三節寫到夏志清,為什麼不說她與志清談戀愛,卻要說我跟志清不幸的婚姻?志清的前妻卡洛(Carol),兩次被丈夫背叛。一個三十歲的女人決定離婚再嫁,還需“私奔”嗎?她分明是給志清及其前妻抹黑。我一個身高不足五尺的矮小女人,怎麼有力氣捉住志清的手腕來割?她卻寫“見面談起就撩起袖子示傷痕”,我就拿出一張志清“手腕無痕”的照片示眾,揭穿其謊言。志清在家不喝酒,我怎麼能把他灌醉,偷他的鑰匙?志清不是齊白石(聽說齊是鑰匙不離身的),也不是工人,一般人回家都是把鑰匙掛起來或是放在一個固定的地方。志清用的是一個專放鑰匙的小皮夾,一回家就放在他書桌的抽​​屜裡。



因為時間有限,我不可能把她的“創作”一一列舉。我從來沒有想到志清會愛上小他三十歲、其貌不揚的女人。這編輯曾在我家住了兩個禮拜。她走後,某日姚一葦、林文月來訪哥大,志清請吃午飯,要我作陪。我來到系裡時,他們參觀哥大,尚未返系。系裡的秘書叫我在志清的辦公室等。我坐著無聊,無意打開抽屜,發現了許多情書。那位編輯寫的情詩,我竟看不懂,拿去請教叢蘇。除了我與志清外,叢蘇是唯一看過的人。Lucy跟她交情匪淺,是以得知。



志清是性情中人,文章真情流露。我是看了他寫的《陳若曦的小說》(《聯合報》1976年4月14日-16日),覺得他仍然愛著Lucy(《尹縣長》書裡的序是奉命改寫的)。他不顧我的泣求,繼續寫文章吹捧Lucy,還到台北會見Lucy的妹妹。我要照顧女兒自珍,不能出外工作,只好忍氣吞聲,過了十年非人的生活。他退休後,沒有女人再送上門來,我們最後近三十年的生活是平靜的。我從來不想過去,所以能盡心服侍他。若沒有主治醫生和我的堅持,他2009年大病後不會活著回來的。



我愛我的名節勝過一切,不為逝者諱。志清胸襟開闊,待人忠厚。他有文章傳世,世上有幾個文人沒有風流韻事?正因為他心軟,橫不下心與情人了斷。他太窮,付不出贍養費,也離不起婚。他是一個顧家的人,身後沒有留下多少遺產,但他留給我的退休金,使我生活無虞,這點我還是感念他的。



會後有晚宴,席開兩桌,招待演講的貴賓,除了駱以軍、高嘉謙太年輕,不認識外,其他的都是舊識,與新朋故友餐敘,很開心。




4月28日,聯合文學出版公司的李進文先生與他的助手來訪,商討出版《中國古典小說史論》事宜。事隔多年,何欣早已去世,譯稿也丟了,我去年找到兩份譯文,寄給聯合文學出版社,摯友劉紹銘教授慨允校正譯文,《中國古典小說》 的中文版即將面世。《中國現代小說史》的中譯本,也是在紹銘的推動下完成的。紹銘對志清的兩大英文巨著的傳播有很大的貢獻。



下午一點鐘,我穿上便裝,同季進乘捷運到胡曉真家做客。我們坐淡水線,經北投在紅樹林站下車。沿線看到的不再是茅屋草舍、碧綠的稻田,而盡是高樓大廈間隔著蔥鬱的樹林。從台北火車站出發,不到半小時就到了,曉真在車站迎接。緊趕慢趕,我們還是沒有躲過防空大演習,車輛停駛,行人止步。似乎沒有警察看見我們。我們沿著馬路,走到曉真公寓的大樓。曉真的夫婿是著名建築師,公寓設計得很現代化。臥室、浴室、衣櫥都包在一個圓圈裡,機關甚多。客廳和廚房都有落地玻璃窗,面對淡水河,俯視紅樹林,風景美麗,很是舒適。樓底有溫泉,我在溫泉里泡了二十分鐘,回想我1949年隨父母在北投洗過一次溫泉澡。春天到北投看杜鵑花,是何等大事!晚上曉真在昂貴的山海樓請吃有機台菜,有黃進興院士、李歐梵夫婦、季進和我,都不是外人。歐梵沒有聽到昨日的主動訴說,我重述一番,一解胸中鬱悶,很覺暢快。



4月29日,聯經出版公司叢書主編沙淑芬女士帶我坐出租車去故宮博物院,到了已是十點,里外擠滿了人。大家都去看翠玉白菜,要排一小時的隊,我們十一點就得返回,只好走馬觀花轉一圈。裡面的石階都很寬大,與我四十年前看到的不一樣。這次我只看到了一幅《清明上河圖》。記得我與志清1970年看到很多名畫和郎世寧的畫。我買了一把傘,一本書,一件T-shirt,打車回到福華。聊起來才知沙女士與我同一天生日,她是陽曆,我是陰曆,我中學讀二女中,她讀中山女中,二女中是中山女中的前身,所以我們是前後同學,十分投緣。林載爵先生請客,也見到了《聯合文學》雜誌總編輯王聰威先生。我幫志清編《張愛玲給我的信件》時,經常聯絡,見面倍感親切。



三點半,梅家玲教授接我去參觀台大。我們從後門進入,看見新建的工程大樓和醉月湖。我問白先勇在哪兒上課。正好經過博雅教學館,正是先勇該下課的時候,我們就停下來,等先勇下了課,給他一個“突襲”。先勇真是人氣旺,不管到哪兒講學,都是最大的禮堂或教室,座無虛席。我們照了幾張相,繼續前進,趕在五點前參觀校史館。校史館是從前的圖書館,文學院還是老樣子。我1954年考進台大經濟系,屬法學院。大一都在校本部上課,教室是水泥建的臨時教室,簡陋難看,也沒有“醉月湖”。哪像現在都是堅固美觀的大樓,椰林夾道,煞是美觀。六點鐘我們去銀翼餐廳,在二樓,沒有電梯卻有一個升降電椅,宛如《控方證人》(Witness for the Prosecution,1957)裡,演員勞頓上下樓梯所乘的電椅。生平第一次坐這種電椅,真好玩。



家玲和沈冬教授作東,宴請李歐梵、陳平原夫婦、季進、高嘉謙教授及我,請美食家詩人焦桐點菜,是很特別的江浙菜。焦桐、嘉謙、季進有事早退,剩下我們幾個瞎聊。平原夫婦要搬到家玲妹妹家住,等家玲妹妹來接,順便把書帶來要我簽名。沈冬是單名,我就稱她“冬冬小妹”,也稱家玲“玲玲小妹”,自署“洞洞大姐”。2006年德威趁在西安師大開會之便,邀我去玩。德威、平原和許倬雲夫婦,被請去參觀新發現的先秦遺址。車子坐不下,德威安排我和年輕的學者去看秦俑和華清池。我早在2004年夏氏兄弟研討會上見過梅家玲,新認識了胡曉真、沈冬及李孝悌,德威託他們照顧我。與年輕人在一起,無拘無束,玩得很開心。我和他們算“西安五友​​”,想不到九年後,他們各有非凡的成就。曉真升任文哲所所長,和德威共同為志清辦此研討會。孝悌在香港城市大學主持中國文化中心。25日,我初抵台北,即接受孝悌的宴請。我真為他們高興,也以擁有這四位傑出的年輕朋友而感到榮幸。

4月30日,季進一早接我一起去花蓮。德威早一天來東華大學講課,今天上完課,十二點半與東華大學劉秀美教授接我們遊玩。我們先去一家以羊奶咖啡著名的飯館吃午飯。秀美在花蓮長大,熟悉花蓮的景物,下午開車載我們去看梯田。可惜天公不作美,我們不能走到海邊回望層層高升的梯田,只好坐在咖啡館,眼觀海浪,耳聽濤聲,陰雨濛蒙,別有一番風味。回到花蓮市區,季進和德威興致勃勃,買了一些德輝愛吃的土產。在一家日本館子吃了飯,到旅館休息。吃飯、住宿、遊覽,德威一手包辦。



次日一早,秀美開車載我們去太魯閣、燕子口,一路大理石削壁,清澈溪流,很是好看,回程又下雨,我們趕回去看楊牧。夏盈盈早已訂好座,在餐館等我們。楊牧談起我們在紐約共度的歡樂時光,又讓我落淚。楊牧那時在麻省大學教書,常來紐約。他有位東海大學同學林衡哲,在紐約行醫,喜結交文人。楊牧一來,林醫生就請客,座上客有哥大音樂系周文中教授夫婦,洛克菲勒大學的王浩教授、陳幼石教授、於梨華、施叔青及其夫婿Robert,還有我和志清。飯後,除了周文中都到我家來聊天。後來楊牧去了西雅圖,施叔青回台灣,林衡哲結婚搬去加州,我們這一夥就散了。過了幾年,楊牧帶了新婚妻子夏盈盈來普林斯頓客座。志清因自珍多病,經常責怪我。我又因Lucy,與志清時常爭吵,搬進搬出,在外租屋另居。楊牧來了,我就回家,讓他們住我暫時棲身的蝸居。盈盈秀麗清俊,我們見面不多,每次見了都感到很親切。看見他們,使我想起我和志清也恩愛過、快樂過。往後發現他與Lucy舊情復燃,開始了我痛苦屈辱的生活。



下午秀美帶我們去看一個神社改建的天主堂,一個新發現的景點——高山上的一個廟。又下起雨來,我們只得在一家原住民開的貓尾巴咖啡店喝咖啡,倒也清靜。我們乘六點半的火車回台北。德威跟季進在松山站下車,秀美送我回旅館。想當年松山菸廠附近多麼荒涼。我常去松山菸廠看教我數學的魏美珍老師,她先生是廠長,得胰腺癌過世了。我是山西人,海外沒有親戚朋友,從來沒有想到留學,是魏老師鼓勵我出國,並藉錢給我。十多年來,我與她失去聯絡,不知她如今是否健在?我跟志清1970年去過太魯閣,我們是參加旅行團,乘公共汽車,走橫貫公路,山路曲折,非常驚險。只記得看到一所簡陋的國民小學,看了一場原住民跳舞。哪像現在,旅館飯店都很整潔美觀,全世界都像美國,舒服乾淨,但失去了地方風味。



5月2日,張淑香教授帶我乘捷運去榮總看望書法家董陽孜,她是我最好的朋友。我在某方面很節省,從不打國外長途電話,這大概跟志清窮有關係。陽孜年節都會給我打電話,最近沒有她的消息,原來她去非洲旅行,回來感冒了,轉成肺炎,肺裡積水。我一聽她的病情跟志清於2009年的情況差不多,很是擔憂。幸好看到她手腳不腫。醫生說她的肺積水不多,已能自己呼吸,不久即可出院,很覺安慰。下午我去新店看何懷碩,他是志清的諍友,常為我打抱不平。我高中時家住新店國校路,原來是個土坡,最上面有個國民小學,沿路住的是省主席、大使、上海警察局長。我們住在底下,都是公教人員。懷碩的助理楊小姐開車繞了一圈沒有找到。過了吊橋左邊就是何懷碩公寓的大樓,建在碧潭邊上,河裡都是些小船,供遊客泛舟。當年都是些沙石,暑假我天天從這裡走進碧綠的溪水,學會了游泳,漸漸有了腰身。



白先勇在太平洋百貨公司對面的小巷子裡的一家叫“彼德兔”餐館請吃晚飯,只有歐梵夫婦、淑香跟我。德威沒來,他太忙了,曉真山海樓的好飯也沒吃。他做的事太多。我們幾個人瞎聊,說了許多真心話。我回到旅館,整理行李,明天下午要回家了。

5月3日早上,我還得去看志清的老友張和鈞先生,他年過九十,太太患老年癡呆症多年。沒想到我去到張府,張先生星期五也進了榮總,幸虧他的次女認識我。他太太看見我似乎想哭,好像認得我,只是說不出話來。兩夫婦在上海時於志清父親的銀行做事。張先生是一家保險公司的董事長,每年來紐約兩次,都會請我們去山王飯店吃飯。前兩年還精神飽滿,人老了說不行就不行了。志清去世後,我突然覺得自己老了,說不定哪一天就不行了,所以得趕緊整理志清的書信遺物。



淑芬陪我去信義路誠品書店五樓看陽孜女兒何思芃的畫展,她把首飾與工筆劃結合起來。她收集了1920到1950年代的首飾,款式都很新穎,我買了一個別針做紀念。來到三樓,找到了我們的《書信集》,照了幾張相,買了楊絳兩本新書。我請淑芬吃午飯,感謝她這幾日的辛勞,沒想到我們點的菜,都是慢工,等了半小時才有得吃。趕回旅館已是三點,金倫就要來了。家玲、曉真、曉虹都從花蓮打電話來跟我道別,真使我感動。金倫幫我收拾行李,回想我在紐約臨行時,關箱子,因力氣不足,整個箱子從小桌子上掉下來,弄得我手忙腳亂,狼狽不堪。德威、德輝來送我,帶來一箱子鳳梨酥,要我分送哥大的朋友,廣結善緣,用心良苦,好讓我感動。我只能托運兩個箱子,手提兩個,虧得德輝是裝箱高手,硬把我的袋子和他的小箱子整合在一起。德威連赴宴的時間都沒有,卻要花這許多時間去桃園機場接我送我。我未到家,德威已來過電話,我午夜到家,再打來,知我平安到家,他才放心。



這次回到我闊別已久的第二故鄉,受到中研院、聯合報系熱誠的接待,當然是由於他們對志清的尊重。為尊者諱,作為志清的妻子,不該暴露他的情史。如果沒有遭人毀謗,我可以等幾年再寫。他和某編輯的戀情,台北、哥大無人不知。既然我見了張寶琴,忍不住流淚,我就把真實感受寫下來。我們婚後,志清堅持跟他舊情人繼續來往,他說“與女作家談戀愛是美麗的事情”。



記得我跟志清剛結婚時,拒絕跟Helen做朋友,我討厭破壞人家家庭的女人。志清的大女兒建一因父母離異,恨她入骨。每次她來,我就和建一逃出去。她千方百計要跟志清來往,我躲不過,只好接納她,她爽朗可親,後來我就很喜歡她。志清一直視她為紅顏知己,沒料到她2004年寫了本小說醜化志清。我知道志清言語上傷了她,但志清關心她,為她寫序,她被停職,志清收她做學生,可拿兩千元的津貼,還抱病參加她的退休典禮。既然志清是一個“毛手毛腳,說人壞話的人”,為什麼當志清有用時她黏著志清不放,等志清年老無用時,寫小說醜化他?我不知志清與小說家談戀愛,“美”在哪裡?■

****
女性口述歷史》走南闖北 道德一生
轉載自【聯合新聞網
2005/11/05
記者:張殿
 
  「十年後再見!」民國三十七年,姜允中離開東北老家,一心到南方追隨民間教化團體萬國道德會,向著追趕馬車送行的母親、奶奶揮手相約。她再回去,由兒子、知名學者王德威陪同,已是一九九○年。
王德威之母 道德會大將
  生於民國五年的姜允中,一生全心投入道德會講道化性事業,這段經歷標示了她不平凡一生與堅韌毅力,王德威說:「我母親堅持要做的事,沒有不完成的。」
  數年前中研院近史所執行「烽火歲月的中國婦女口述歷史」計畫,為經歷二十世紀動亂的婦女留下文字記錄,訪談過程中,發現姜允中參與並見證了曾在中國東北紅極一時的道德會興衰。於是近史所副研究員羅久蓉在民國八十九年一月至七月,歷經二十次訪談完成《姜允中女士訪問紀錄》,本月底由麥田出版。
  道德會創於民國十年山東,主要宏揚孔孟學說倡議道德,人稱王善人的王樹桐入會後積極辦女義學,他相信「女子是世界的源頭,不讀書就是猿猴。」道德會加入了女義學觀念,在東北一帶影響非常大。
鐵娘子 熱愛社會事業
  「就為我們女子願意自立,不必受家庭的牽累,我當然非常憧憬,所以毅然加入道德會。」從小立志不婚的姜允中,十八歲加入道德會,接受嚴格的「講演」訓練後,成為遊行各地的講演團講員。在那個男尊女卑的年代,姜允中的一本正經不免常被調侃:「這位老小姐好厲害,怎麼不去嫁人?我給你介紹吧!」「允執厥中」的她一斧板頂回去:「你介紹不了,頭可斷,血可流,我一生熱愛社會事業!」
  這位熱愛社會事業的女子,民國三十八年渡海來台歸隊道德會,落腳重慶北路覺修宮,這時,原本在大陸有一百二十萬會友,在台復會後總數三千八百人。
展開婦幼事業 為興學成婚
  會友少了,時代變動,姜允中志業不改,眼見渡海軍眷有不識字及孩子綁著無法工作而苦惱者,姜允中遂拓展道德會會務,辦識字班、幼稚園、育兒院,開發「婦幼事業」。因為工作常與異性互動,閒言閒語來了,「無奈之下,不婚的意念開始搖動。」姜允中立意找一個「志同道合、能幫助我完成興學願望的人」。於是常在道德會幫忙的國大代表、東北老鄉、教育背景的王鏡仁出線了。她主動提議交往,條件是「我必須保持獨立自主的人格。」王鏡仁日記記載:「她是一個女人,所不同者,不但大義凜然,侃侃而談,一本正經,不稍諧詼,金石良言,聽之津津。」
不愛當太太 「太婆婆媽媽」
  王鏡仁在大陸有妻室及五名兒女,姜允中認為身處亂世,大家都做了不得已的決定,有朝一日回大陸,王鏡仁可以和原配破鏡重圓,她仍做自己的事業。民國四十二年兩人結婚,那年她已三十八歲。四十三年長子王德威出生,四十六年次子王德輝出世。王德威說:「我不相信世上有完美理想的家庭」,但父母「道義之交」,是「我們家庭和諧溫暖的動力」。中年得子的姜允中性格柔軟的一面有了著力;不變的是結了婚,但不喜歡被叫太太、大嫂、大嬸、大娘,「太婆婆媽媽了!」在幼稚園她是姜園長、創辦人;老鄉、前立法院長梁肅戎戲稱她「鐵娘子」;是東北慣稱的「姑娘」,老了就叫「老姑娘」;兒子則封她為王母娘娘「王母」。
為夫大陸子女 成立教育基金會
  一九八九年王鏡仁病危,辭世前姜允中允諾:「你放心吧!我一定代表你到大陸各家去看看。」一九九○年王德威陪著母親赴瀋陽省親:「所有親屬都要見到,一戶不能遺漏。」姜允中遠至長春、本溪一戶戶去瞭解丈夫在大陸的兒女們生活情況,六樓沒電梯的,都勸別上去了,她回以:「我答應過你們父親來看大家,怎麼能不上樓!」甚至去了老三王德雍在甘肅的工作單位:「你當了大型聯合企業的經理,這是王家的驕傲,我想去看看你們的公司。」延續道德會重視教育傳統,姜允中私人拿出三百萬台幣,成立王氏子孫基金會,作為大陸王家下一代子孫求學深造之用。
  一九九二年,大陸的大兒子王福林突然去世,姜允中再度赴遼寧本溪市慰問。一九九八年,大陸開始進行公房私有改革,但是得交一筆購房費。姜允中再度啟程大陸,幫助丈夫在大陸的兒女各家解決房款:「安居才能樂業。」人們都說那是個「大時代」,姜允中讓世人明白什麼叫大時代的兒女。
兒子看母親:道德實踐者
  誠如齊邦媛書序所言,這本口述歷史「沒有曲折委婉的心情描寫」、「沒有風花雪月的敘述」;也是王德威母子結緣身教言教「不爭、不貪、不怨人、找好處、認不是」的道德會最徹底的實踐者。羅久蓉則表示,二十次訪談中,姜允中不僅展現過人的毅力源於天性的特質,更讓世人看見「一心一意做自己認為份內該做的事」的見識與胸襟的女性原型。
  姜允中喜歡強調自己不是一般婦女,這次她不必以嚴格的講演訓練闡述她的心念,透過她的作為,人們知道:「她當然不是一般婦女。」
【2005/11/07 聯合報

2015年8月29日 星期六

謝安、周永明

周永明 兼任數字王國執董

hTC布局虛擬實境 業界:非關內鬥失勢

事實上,周永明今年3月卸下執行長,轉任未來產品中心負責人,外界都認為他已遠離權力核心,且5、6月間他出脫宏達電股票近167張,上月消失於核心高層的「內部人」名單之列,加上數字王國宣布聘任他擔任執行董事,一連串的變化,似乎暗示周永明要離開待了18年的宏達電。 

獲得王雪紅同意

宏達電昨發表聲明指出,hTC在虛擬實境(VR)有超過上百家合作夥伴,周永明兼任第3方公司執行董事,是要深入了解全球虛擬實境發展與相關內容製作,未來尋求更好的合作機會。
據了解,周永明出任數字王國執董,雖然是扮演顧問的角色,但因他還是宏達電未來產品中心負責人,因此事前有獲得王雪紅同意,且宏達電在智慧手機市佔急速下滑,今年出貨恐不到2000萬支,股價更從2011年4月的1300元慘跌至上周五的47.1元,為力求翻身,宏達電全力發展虛擬實境產品,亟需在內容服務尋找更多合作夥伴,數字王國是好萊塢第2大視覺特效技術廠商,如果彼此在軟硬體結合可發揮互補效益。 
《玩命關頭7》的電影特效就是出自數字王國。資料照片

好萊塢特效大廠

數字王國前身是奧亮集團,前年改名,現任主席及行政總裁謝安是台灣人,年僅31歲,去年營收8.5億港元(約35億元台幣),淨利4332萬港元(約1.8億元台幣),主要技術強項包括虛擬人、虛擬實境及電影特效,之前的好萊塢動作大片《玩命關頭7》、《鋼鐵人》、《變形金剛》等特效都出自其手中,曾拿下過9座美國奧斯卡金像獎。 

服務多元利競爭

謝安與周永明為舊識,在今年3月全球行動通訊大會(MWC)見到宏達電的虛擬實境眼鏡Vive後,謝安相當感興趣,曾多次來找周永明,徵詢他對產業的意見。
3C網站《手機王》總編張利安指,發展虛擬實境除硬體設備外,內容服務也要更多元,才有利市場競爭,若透過周永明出任執董,促使雙方進一步合作,整合彼此的軟硬體資源,對宏達電會加分。 

周永明小檔案

年齡:1956年生,59歲
現職:宏達電未來產品中心負責人,下周一將兼任香港數字王國執行董事
經歷:宏達電執行長、迪吉多電腦伺服器工程處處長
學歷:海洋大學電機系、政大EMBA班
婚姻:已婚,2個小孩
身家:持有宏達電股票市值約2.09億元 

宏達電權力核心變化情形

1997~2004年
周永明在1997年加入宏達電,不過當時營運由創辦人卓火土主導
2004年
周永明從卓火土手中接任執行長,宏達電開始進入周永明時代
2012年4月
董事長王雪紅引進張嘉臨出任財務長,周永明地位受到威脅
前年10月
宏達電高層權力調整,董事長王雪紅負責行銷,周永明專注研發,周永明開始被削權
今年3月20日
周永明卸下執行長,由王雪紅兼任,周被排除在權力核心外,改王雪紅、張嘉臨及營運長陳文俊主導
資料來源:《蘋果》採訪整理 

數字王國小檔案

公司:數字王國
集團主席:謝安
主要業務:數位視覺特效、動畫及電影業務等
上市時間:1992年在港交所上市,前身為奧亮集團,前年改名為數字王國
市場地位:好萊塢第2大視覺特效廠,《玩命關頭7》、《鋼鐵人》、《變形金剛》等電影特效均出自其手中,曾獲9次美國奧斯卡金像獎
去年營運:營收為8.5億港元(約35億元台幣)、純益4332萬港元(約1.8億元台幣)
上周五收盤價:0.43港元╱+0.01港元
資料來源:港交所、《蘋果》採訪整理

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