完全为了谋生而工作，就和坐牢一样可悲。
Working purely for a living is as pitiable as sitting in prison. So few people claim that is what they are doing. The usual defenses: “I’m interested in the content of my work,” “I like my colleagues,” “working makes my life feel full.” Even if true, these are partial — we could pursue our interests, keep our friends, and live fully without working.
The older generation was more honest. They asked: how will you feed yourself without working? They did not think it pitiable to imprison themselves through labor. They took pride in blind industry. As Maugham said, not everyone, once freed from providing for basic needs, still knows what they should do.
The New Prison
是曾经艰难甚至残酷的年代迫使我们变得可悲地单调和狭隘，但如今社会环境已经改变了。
Harsh, even cruel eras forced us into pitiable narrowness. But the social environment has changed now. Consumerism has become a new ideology. The imprisonment remains — we only seem more free.
Compared to restricting everything you want to do, installing in you what you “need” and giving you the means to achieve it is a far more durable method of maintaining social stability. But this is still enslavement.
This is sapiens at its sharpest: the state and market said “become individuals — we will take care of you.” The offer could not be refused. The ten commandments operated through restriction; consumerism operates through installation. The old system said “you may not.” The new system says “you must want.” The new cage has no visible bars, which is why it is stronger.
Under these social rules, the primary means of personal self-realization remains work. So we take our work very seriously — and we take others’ work seriously too. Work has become a person’s most important identity label. Old classmates reuniting ask about work first. Strangers on a train inquire about work before they reach hobbies or passions. The mask IS the job title. The daemon is whatever you would do if the label were stripped away.
Work is a means of survival, not the purpose of life. Some people are genuinely suited to achieve happiness through socially recognized, materially rewarded work. But not everyone. And the system that pretends otherwise is the system described in already-free: the neurosis is organized to ensure no resolution is found.
Reality and the Artist
现实就像一个力大无穷、整天在胡说八道的野蛮人，不过最后他总能证明自己是对的。
Reality is like an infinitely strong barbarian who babbles nonsense all day — but in the end always proves himself right. Whoever dares to question him will suffer greatly. Those who say they “accept reality” are actually finding ways to make reality accept them. Those who say they don’t accept reality have probably just been rejected by it.
About reality we can say very little that won’t be picked apart, that won’t seem naive or self-deceiving. So it is best to say less. Or to simply shut our mouths and say nothing.
如果我被石头绊了一跤，就爬起来自己再摔一跤。— If I trip on a stone, I get up and trip myself again. Then I dust myself off and walk on. This makes the stone look foolish. Over the next few hundred thousand years, it will reflect in solitude on how unnecessary and insignificant its cruelty was. Eventually it will attain Buddhahood and learn to treat the world kindly.
The Purity of the Artist
艺术家常常乞灵于精神的纯粹。
Artists often appeal to spiritual purity — to become even more fully what they already are, sometimes to bewildering and frightening degrees. But if an artist’s spirit does not reach that purity, the world will not shine in their eyes, and they will not know how to create.
This is the-creative-act in Chinese: the true instrument is you. And Gombrich’s insight confirmed from another angle: there is no such thing as Art — only artists. The fifth stage of mastery — making it your own — requires the purity of knowing what you are and refusing to be anything else.
Main Payoff
All joy seems to gather in the evenings. After the sun sets and the temperature drops, you put on your coat and hat and walk to the square by the water. Children are setting off fireworks under the glittering sky, chasing and playing. There is so much happiness that everything ugly feels distant, unable to touch our contentment. A little wine back home deepens the feeling.
But fireworks and wine are things for the evening. During the day, we had better face reality.
References:
- 胡安焉 (Hu An Yan), 我在北京送快递 (I Deliver Parcels in Beijing)