清空播放记录
猜你喜欢
剧照
更新时间：2024-05-18 12:04
详细剧情
内向沉稳的约尔•巴瑞斯（金•凯瑞 饰）在一次聚会中认识了率真随性的克莱门汀•克罗斯基（凯特•温丝莱特 饰），二人成为情侣。和普通的情侣一样，他们的日子也在甜蜜和争吵中度过。
2004年情人节前夕，当约尔精心准备好礼物，为不久前一次争吵找到克莱门汀道歉时，他惊讶地发现，克莱门汀根本都不记得他了。原来冲动的克莱门汀受不了二人交往中争吵的痛苦，到“忘情诊所”，把关于约尔的记忆删除得一干二净。
约尔无法原谅克莱门汀的任性，也无法忍受失去她的痛苦，所以他也到了“忘情诊所”，请求医生霍华德博士（汤姆•维尔金森 饰）消除关于克莱门汀的记忆。
记忆清除程序开始启动，约尔在自己的记忆中游走，他发现和克莱斯汀一起度过的那些时光，无论是痛苦还是甜蜜，都弥足珍贵，他并不想忘记这个自己深爱的女人。但是，程序一旦启动就无法逆转，约尔只能想尽办法把克莱斯汀藏到记忆最深的地方，那些现实中克莱斯汀本来没有出现过的时间角落，以保存这份爱情……
长篇影评
1 ) 那些在岁月中剥落的自我
“祝福那些健忘的人吧，他们克服了自己的错误。”（Blessed are the forgetful: for they get the better even of their blunders.）——尼采（Nietzsche） 剧情： 2004年的情人节，清晨，乔尔从梦中醒来，形容憔悴，他没去工作，却莫名其妙地直奔火车站，在最后一刻挤上了前往蒙塔克的火车。蒙塔克寒冷的海滩上，他遇到了冲动开朗的克莱门汀。于是，看似甜蜜的爱情开始了……然而，这奇迹般地相逢真的是一见钟情的偶然么？ 影片开场十七分钟之后，画面突然暗下来，浓浓的黑色调中，贝克·汉森（Beck Hansen）低沉忧郁的歌声从寂静中响起，车中的乔尔泪流满面，痛苦异常。藏匿很深的演职员表缓缓浮现，十八分钟的超长等待之后，片名“Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind”终于映入了观众们的眼帘。 此刻，现实隐去，回忆升起。 这一年冬季的纽约，浪漫的情人节即将来到，一对青年恋人乔尔和克莱门汀之间却危机重重，残忍地互相伤害着。冲动的克莱门汀找到一家名为“空白”的高科技公司，实施了“记忆抹除”，要把乔尔完全从自己的记忆中清除掉。乔尔无法接受女友转瞬之间抛弃一切，另寻新欢的事实，也走进了“空白”公司，要求清除掉自己关于克莱门汀的一切记忆…… 记忆与遗忘： 影片建构在一个与现实同步的时空维度中，色调凝重。新世纪里，人们生活幸福，内心孤独，为人们擦除记忆的空白公司生意火爆。情人节就要到了，人们打电话预约擦除令自己不堪重负的记忆。面对乔尔的痛苦，负责删除记忆的霍华德医生深表同情，同意为他实施记忆抹除术。影片记录的，便是乔尔关于克莱门汀的记忆被删除的过程，它令人如此沉默、温暖、无奈、忧伤或者百感交集。 影片冷冷的色调和油画般的颗粒感，铺陈了一个人面对陌生内心世界的痛苦挣扎。对于个人来说，失忆并非是一件简单的事情。现代心理学认为，人的记忆和自我意识紧密相关，人的自我意识由经验习得，又为记忆所累积。失去记忆便等于失去了部分的自我，个体将不再完整。然而，在日常生活中，情形似乎又没有那么严重，因为遗忘无处不在。弗洛伊德老头认为，对不堪和痛苦往事的忘怀源于人类自我保护的本能。这就是被称之为“动机性遗忘”的心理学命题。那些“不好”的记忆和经验会被潜意识所抑制，终致消失。弗氏的理论中，这种选择常常是被动的，自然发生的，那些偶尔发生的小错误，往往会重复出现。 现实中，每个人都在选择性地遗忘成为负担的过去，夹带着美好，伤感或者迷茫，正像霍华德医生为乔尔指出的那样，一些关键的情绪点的删除，会连带相关记忆消失。日常的点点滴滴中，自我每时每刻都在经历着逃避式的选择和裁汰。 可是在影片中，蜗牛式的自然遗忘已经不能满足现代人的情感需要，科技已经进步到可以对记忆进行定点清除的阶段，并且润物无声地进入到了商业社会的价值体系之内。 唯一值得庆幸的是，这种威力无穷的科技仅限于人的“自我修正”，不但是自主的，而且是自愿的。这种先进的技术带着理性主义的威严和机器的冰冷，却不过用来解救那些沉沦在痛苦中的灵魂。这一刻，机器和技术也具有了道义的色彩，变得温情脉脉起来。在谈及用科技手段抹除记忆的危害时，霍华德甚至安慰乔尔说，“从技术的角度讲，擦除过程本身对大脑就是一种伤害，但不过相当于一场宿醉而已。”合同签下，今日之我已经负责任地宣布告别昨日之我。这种干净利索的爽快，还会发生什么料想不到的意外呢？ 于是，在强大的技术支撑下，克莱门汀失去了对于乔尔的记忆，乔尔最终也失去了对克莱门汀的记忆，而笑容甜美的玛丽，失去了对霍华德医生的记忆。这一个流行幸福和失忆的冬季，人们争相恐后地打爆“空白”公司的电话，一遍又一遍地改写自己。 技术乌托邦： 探讨科技进步对人类伦理状况的影响，是幻想作品最为重要的主题之一。个体的记忆犹如群体的历史，都处在一个标准时时变化的价值体系之下，就个人而言，是情感的好恶、在社会，便是思潮的更迭。问题是，今日之我是否能重建昨日的历史？今天的社会能否改写或者遗忘过去呢？就记忆/历史而言，乔治·奥威尔在《1984》中说：“谁掌握了历史，谁就掌握了未来；谁掌握了现在，谁就掌握了历史。”这句话对于历史与权力之间的阐释关系做出了精确的表达。对于本片来说，这种阐释的权力为人“当下的自我”所操纵，科技带给人们的方便是，人们可以肆意删改过去，并通过这种方式，间接地改变了未来。可是，有一个矛盾并未解开，那就是失去了过去的那个自我已经不是那个下决定之自我，它会认同大权在握的前自己，并充满期待地迎接一个幸福的未来么？ 玛丽、乔尔和克莱门汀是影片中三个被施以记忆擦除术的人，影片的主要部分就建构在三个失忆者同他们的爱慕者（或被爱慕者）错综复杂的关系之上。 在实施记忆擦除之前，玛丽深爱霍华德医生，接受手术后，却和技师斯坦确立了恋爱关系，虽然有些茫然，倒也坦然接受。冲动而脆弱的克莱门汀抹去了关于乔尔记忆，感情生活失败的“空白技师”帕特里克趁虚而入，代替了乔尔，成为了克莱门汀的新男友，一切也很正常。坏事就坏在内向而固执的乔尔身上。 克莱门汀的所作所为，让这个在孤独中成长，有着惨痛童年经验的男人无法接受。然而，当“空白”技术逐渐从乔尔头脑中删除克莱门汀时，乔尔却发现，被删除不仅仅有那些被深刻铭记的痛苦，还有那些被他忽视和遗忘的美好。乔尔是内向而孤独的，克莱门汀曾是他生命中唯一的火焰，删除的过程越继续，乔尔便越感觉到惶惑和恐惧，乔尔意识到自己并不愿失去克莱门汀，终于试图去反抗整个进程。乔尔带着他的克莱门汀在自己的记忆中四处奔逃，为了保留住生命中的那些美好的瞬间，他甚至舍弃了自我的尊严，打开那些他从来不肯向克莱门汀开放过的童年记忆，来逃避程序的追踪。两个人的过往在一点点减少，那些激烈而徒劳地反抗中，乔尔明白了自己终究还是爱着克莱门汀的，他的反抗扰乱了程序，但精神意识中仅存的美好，终究无法抵挡精确的技术手段。乔尔挣扎着睁开了双眼，却被赶来的霍华德医生猛打上一针镇定剂，医生要对客户的意愿负责到底啊！霍华德医生、斯坦和玛丽三张疑惑的脸孔在那张弹簧大床上蹦来蹦去，那充满渴望的眼睛，看到的是世界的混乱和荒诞。那些曾经的爱与思念，只能化作乔尔眼角的一滴无力的泪水。 经历了对自我和爱的不懈追寻，最后，乔尔终于放弃了徒劳的挣扎。那记忆中的房子在缓缓崩塌，随风而逝，一段过去也消弭于无形。 在手术实施完毕后，乔尔重新遇到克莱门汀，一场甜蜜的恋爱似乎从头开始；此前，手术后的玛丽依然对霍华德医生心存仰慕，一层窗户纸没有捅破，大家一样相安无事。某刻，这世界似乎恢复了和谐的稳定和幸福。 在这个依靠技术营造出的和谐世界里，人们面对一片空白的过去，显得茫然而快乐。这里，回忆是脆弱的，精神不过是肉体的附属产物，在科技的操纵下，大脑像硬盘一样可以被整理、删除、格式化，面对混乱的欲望和难测的情感，冰冷的理性似乎无往而不胜。 一觉醒来，一切重新开始，曾经的痛苦挣扎已悄然远去，深爱的，愤恨的都化作虚无。人们都这么幸福。 自然本性与宿命论 : 虽然在理性引导下的技术世界中，人的自我意识成为了被切割和整理的对象，丝毫没有反抗的能力，即使经历了乔尔式的顽强挣扎，也只能归于失败，但古灵精怪的编剧查理·考夫曼（Charlie Kaufman）却并不喜欢这样冰冷的世界。 失忆后的克莱门汀在冒牌男友帕特里克陪伴下开始了对过去的追寻，帕特里克对乔尔每次拙劣的模仿，都在刺激着克莱门汀的心灵，无法解释的焦虑驱动着她，克莱门汀终于重归蒙塔克，虽然茫然，虽然空洞，但这里似乎有些东西别处永远无法代替。一觉醒来的乔尔疑惑着，和他的克莱门汀一样，奔向了蒙塔克寒冷的海滩。两个茫然的人，将在这里重逢。 玛丽对霍华德医生一往情深，但现实的道德准则否定了这段情感。失去记忆后，她逃避式地将这段感情转化为性的燃烧和释放，她要烈酒，要性爱，在沉睡着的乔尔的房间里，她和斯坦放纵着，无所顾忌。可是当听闻霍华德医生正在赶来，她立刻变得像个热恋中的少女，该吸引她的，还是照样吸引着她。她小心翼翼地，充满欣喜和甜蜜地重复着自己的人生。她笨拙地背诵着尼采和亚历山大·蒲柏，只为了等待爱人的一句夸奖。 玛丽那句突然的“you are such a sweet hart!”预示了爱情宿命般的倒性降临。 在现实生活中，人们的自我分化处在隐匿的，不可见的连续变化中。然而在一个消费主义和技术主义的时代，机器和技术却使这种自我的剥落得到了最大限度的放大。瞬间失忆，这种社会规范下技术对自我的介入和戕害，遭到了直觉和潜意识的强烈反抗。在这些细节中，套用海明威的话，对于人类的自然本性，对于人之为人的那些神秘的精神活动，成熟的技术理性可以消灭它，但就是打不败它。 影片的独特之处还在于，它在宣传了一种对人类本性的信仰的同时，还展示了充满误解和挫折、失败和痛苦的现实图景。相信直觉，反抗遗忘，是影片中失忆者的基本行为方式，在宗教式的情感体验中，相信本身就是一种信仰。《美丽心灵的永恒阳光》提出了重建自我的迷茫和未来的无限可能性，在社会伦理之外，一种灵魂的宿命论观点在引导着人们通向无可解释的直观的善。人间是黯淡而混沌的，然而最终，混沌的人间却战胜了闪耀着冰冷光芒的理性。 玛丽近乎疯狂地奔向霍华德夫人的车窗，为自己的爱人辩解着，把这段爱恋的责任都揽在自己身上。霍华德夫人却平静地告诉她，不必道歉，你已经拥有过他了。难以想象这一瞬间的残忍，她在爱人面前胆怯而兴奋地背诵着那些优美的格言和诗句，她鼓起勇气说出爱，她勇敢地替爱人承担责任，然而一切却像个闹剧，因为，她早已经这样疯狂地爱过了。而面对斯坦，面对性与爱的分离，她只能承受再一次的不堪。人生在这里，确如一场宿醉一般。 玛丽带走了“空白”公司的所有客户资料，把这些曾经的记忆寄给那些想要重归“幸福”的人们。于是，有两封信分别寄到了“重新相恋”的乔尔和克莱门汀手上。 无暇/美丽心灵的永恒阳光： “贞节女性的命运是多么幸福/忘记世界，被世界遗忘/美丽心灵的永恒阳光/实现每个祷告，拒绝每个愿望。”本片的名称来源于英国18世纪大诗人亚历山大•蒲柏（Alexander Pope，1688-1744）的长诗《艾洛伊斯致亚伯拉德》（Eloisa to Abelard）。 蒲柏的这首诗是根据12世纪法国哲学家亚伯拉德与女修道院长艾洛伊斯的爱情悲剧创作的。在这个古老的故事中，年近四十的亚伯拉德爱上了自己年轻的学生艾洛伊斯，并打算和她秘密结婚，然而艾洛伊斯的叔叔对此怒不可遏，派人阉割了亚伯拉德。沉重的打击下，亚伯拉德和艾洛伊斯被迫分手，双双遁入修道院。然而，他们彼此却难以忘怀，在十余年后留下了七封充满回忆和激情的通信。 不难看出，“无瑕心灵的永恒阳光”和这个悲剧性的故事相去甚远，在上帝和爱情之间，亚伯拉德和艾洛伊斯始终未能“白璧无瑕”。而当电影中，玛丽在霍华德面前压着呼吸，轻轻背诵出这几句美好诗歌的时候，那一段深藏在她心底的爱恋，同样也以情欲压倒了道德的形式呈现。而她之前主动选择去做记忆清除术，也正是理性对越轨情感的一次艰难克服。 但是很不幸，在考夫曼这里，自我规约失效之处，技术也无能为力，并不存在一个幸福的技术乌托邦。现实世界中，美好和丑恶总是互相缠绕，无论是爱情还是生活，生活的本来面目是一片充满欲望的混沌，面对人的本能（本性），技术理性再强大，也是冰冷而有限的。 刚刚经历了乔尔回忆中无限甜蜜温馨的观众还没从伤感中挣出，却又落入了尴尬的境地：在乔尔和克莱门汀的自述录音中，两个人的生活充满了误解和恶毒的攻击，两个心怀爱恋的人不知应该如何面对如此的过去，只能相视沉默。这世界上，没有无瑕的心灵，也没有永恒的阳光。一切终将逝去，无暇心灵的永恒阳光不过是一个寒冷而混沌的世界上，关于盛夏的美丽的幻想。 是不是所有人都在以激烈的形式反抗在道德和规范下的自我消解？遗憾地是，现实里，每个人都平静地，悄悄完成了这一过程。 电影结束，光影暗淡，贝克·汉森沙哑寂寥的歌声中，克莱门汀与乔尔在雪地中的欢乐，在镜头前不断重复，似乎预示着人生存在很多种可能。然而面对那些不断风化剥落的自我，你，又会怎样对待那些终将随时光巨浪悄然远去的回忆呢？
2 ) Eternal Sunshine
我再次把这电影看一遍并非仅仅因为上次看的是SCR实在不清楚，更是因为昨天看到了ilyagram的《大象从不遗忘》以后深感当初看这部电影的时候实在是过多地看了字幕而遗忘了剧情。
每部电影对不同的观众都有不同的启示，对我而言，ETERNAL SUNSHINE讲述的是人们对于遗忘以及面对的故事。当你想要借助技术的力量来抹除生活的片段，会成功吗？即使成功，就一了百了了吗？我以前并没有看过CHARLIE KAUFMAN的电影，但是在电影中，我相信他并非认为我们可以靠自己所发明的仪器来删除我们自己的记忆。这个比喻就好象大力士无法把自己举起来。更为可笑的是，在删除之前还要靠回忆往昔的物品来给记忆“定位”，这难道又不是另一种的记忆了吗？
即使把那种种的不快、尴尬、愤怒、不甘都删除了，世界就重新明亮了起来么？我们所看到的不过是另一种形式的重新开始罢了。而且，很抱歉的是，遗忘女神在这里提醒你们，你们所面对的仍然是以前所逃避的种种。甚至，要在更直接的场合下。也就是说这世界上并不存在解千愁的灵丹妙药，只有面对问题的症结，才是通往快乐的唯一途径。
电影中引用 Alexander Pope 的 Eloisa to Abelard ，描述十二世纪法国神学家阿伯拉和他的学生相思而不得相恋的哀怨故事，其中一句就是本片的片名，根据黄香瑶的说法，意指“ 只有擺脫記憶、不再牽掛，這個斑駁的心靈才能得到救贖 ”。在电影中，当MARY说出这句诗句的时候，HORWARD医生却痛苦地不愿意回想起以前的种种，这也不能不说是一种讽刺。所以电影的最后JOEL终于能够摆脱了过去，但这一切并没有完，生活还要继续，他不是神学家，也不用献身于上帝，更没有为爱所舍弃。所以他可以继续下去。
我认为这部电影更像是一部现实主义的作品，因为它把生活中那些琐碎的，你不堪让人看到的片段拿出来放在你面前，而非单纯讲述一个关于失忆的科幻故事。特别是当你想把某人从心中抹去的那个过程，那痛苦与矛盾，恰恰和先前对因为爱情的鄙陋而形成的苦涩交织在一起，让人欲说还休。就好象在现实的生活一样，你怨恨他，想忘记他，却又欲罢不能，这难道不就是爱情的魔力吗？
所以我们能够从这里看到太多。
下面是引用诗句的翻译，让我们一起感受一下那酸楚和无望。
聖潔女神的命運是何等幸福
How happy is the blameless vestal’s lot!
遺忘世界，被世界遺忘
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
無瑕的心靈散發永恆的陽光
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
接納每一個祈禱，捨棄每一個願望
Each pray’r accepted, and each wish resign’d;
原文地址：http://makzhou.blogbus.com/logs/2005/02/1013502.html
部分格式无法复制，请见谅
每部电影对不同的观众都有不同的启示，对我而言，ETERNAL SUNSHINE讲述的是人们对于遗忘以及面对的故事。当你想要借助技术的力量来抹除生活的片段，会成功吗？即使成功，就一了百了了吗？我以前并没有看过CHARLIE KAUFMAN的电影，但是在电影中，我相信他并非认为我们可以靠自己所发明的仪器来删除我们自己的记忆。这个比喻就好象大力士无法把自己举起来。更为可笑的是，在删除之前还要靠回忆往昔的物品来给记忆“定位”，这难道又不是另一种的记忆了吗？
即使把那种种的不快、尴尬、愤怒、不甘都删除了，世界就重新明亮了起来么？我们所看到的不过是另一种形式的重新开始罢了。而且，很抱歉的是，遗忘女神在这里提醒你们，你们所面对的仍然是以前所逃避的种种。甚至，要在更直接的场合下。也就是说这世界上并不存在解千愁的灵丹妙药，只有面对问题的症结，才是通往快乐的唯一途径。
电影中引用 Alexander Pope 的 Eloisa to Abelard ，描述十二世纪法国神学家阿伯拉和他的学生相思而不得相恋的哀怨故事，其中一句就是本片的片名，根据黄香瑶的说法，意指“ 只有擺脫記憶、不再牽掛，這個斑駁的心靈才能得到救贖 ”。在电影中，当MARY说出这句诗句的时候，HORWARD医生却痛苦地不愿意回想起以前的种种，这也不能不说是一种讽刺。所以电影的最后JOEL终于能够摆脱了过去，但这一切并没有完，生活还要继续，他不是神学家，也不用献身于上帝，更没有为爱所舍弃。所以他可以继续下去。
我认为这部电影更像是一部现实主义的作品，因为它把生活中那些琐碎的，你不堪让人看到的片段拿出来放在你面前，而非单纯讲述一个关于失忆的科幻故事。特别是当你想把某人从心中抹去的那个过程，那痛苦与矛盾，恰恰和先前对因为爱情的鄙陋而形成的苦涩交织在一起，让人欲说还休。就好象在现实的生活一样，你怨恨他，想忘记他，却又欲罢不能，这难道不就是爱情的魔力吗？
所以我们能够从这里看到太多。
下面是引用诗句的翻译，让我们一起感受一下那酸楚和无望。
聖潔女神的命運是何等幸福
How happy is the blameless vestal’s lot!
遺忘世界，被世界遺忘
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
無瑕的心靈散發永恆的陽光
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
接納每一個祈禱，捨棄每一個願望
Each pray’r accepted, and each wish resign’d;
原文地址：http://makzhou.blogbus.com/logs/2005/02/1013502.html
部分格式无法复制，请见谅
3 ) 原来我深爱你，一点都不愿忘记你
“我明白，根本原因是她非常不自信。”
“她玩叛逆，显示精神上的自由。”
“她识字不多，有时候在公共场所她真的会让我感觉到尴尬。”
“可是她充满活力，她在你身边会让你觉得生活不再是那么没有意义没有欢乐。”
“他是个十足的闷罐子。”
“他那可怜巴巴、像哭那样的抱歉的笑容。见鬼的——就像一只受伤的小狗。”
“望着我，好像我应该为自己出去寻找人生快乐而感到羞耻。”
“知道吗？乔尔属于那种一辈子什么也不肯改变的人。”
乔尔是一个作家（猜测），而克莱门蒂娜是一个书店的售货员。
他们的第一次相遇在海边，乔尔不言语地坐在阶梯上，而克莱门蒂娜说“我能不能吃一块鸡肉”说话的同时就拿了一块吃起来。“没等我回答，你就拿了去。这显得有些亲密——好像我们已经是恋人一样。”
他们的相爱是注定的。一个极其拘谨沉重，一个极其自由沉重。他们都向往着彼此，因为相信彼此的性格可以互相拯救。尽管生活上有很多难以磨合的地方。
如果没有那家能帮人消除记忆的公司，没有那场乔尔与自己记忆的大战，乔尔或许也不能发现自己对于克莱门蒂娜的深爱。他穷尽一切所能来挽救自己对她的记忆。在他好不容易再次睁开眼却被医生注射进入昏睡之前，那一滴从眼角留下的眼泪见证了一切。
我爱你，我爱你。我不要忘记你，不能忘记你。
那些轰然倒塌的场景，不断转移，所有所有的都在遗失，记忆在崩解。乔尔带着克莱门蒂娜不断躲藏，在缝隙之间我们看到他们曾经的过往。而乔尔无法控制住局面，不断遗失她。
在那白色的书店里。
克莱门蒂娜说：“乔尔，我不是一个抽象的概念。你要牢记这点。很多男人把我当成一个概念或者认为我能让他们的生活圆满，焕发活力。可是我只是一个茫然无措的女孩，想寻找自己内心的宁静。所以不要再把你的心加给我。”
这是克莱门蒂娜说的话，不过不是在现实里，而是在乔尔的自我反省中。
当他意识到自己曾经对她的爱是出于用她来让自己生活圆满焕发活力的目的时，他就真的明白过来了，自己不够尊重她的存在，只是想把她来为自己服务，所以他们之间才有这样那样的矛盾，所以她的缺点他才那么计较，自以为自己有多爱她，一直以为只有她任性自私，其实最自私的原来是自己。
这场消除记忆的作战，让乔尔深切的认识了自己，反省了自己与克莱门蒂娜的爱。
其实是一场爱的救赎。
所以最后。他们再次相遇。而当他们又争吵的时候，乔尔走了出来喊着，“等等，等等。”
“等什么？”
“我也不知道，我就是想叫你等等。”
他们都接受了彼此。这次是真正的接受。
“我不是一个抽象的概念，乔尔。我只是一个困惑的女孩，想要寻找内心的宁静。我并不完美。”
“这一刻我还没有发现你有什么我不喜欢的地方。”
“会发现的。到时你会胡思乱想。而我跟你在一起会乏味，会觉得落入圈套，因为我总是这样。”
......
“OK”乔尔微笑着说，深情地看着她。
克莱门蒂娜愣住了。
“OK”克莱门蒂娜边哭边笑着说道。
我们知道，他们不会再像以前，他们会爱很久，他们的爱会很久很久。
这是很好的一部爱情片，是只关乎爱情的。我从中明白了，对于很多人，爱情，只是两个人互相寻求的平静。而不是自己臆想中的自以为是的，拯救。在这部电影里，拯救是脆弱的，是自私的。我也在生活中，慢慢消散了对于拯救的信仰。没有谁会愿意在自己脆弱的心上再加上另一个人的心的重量，也没有这个能力。我们能做的不是将自己的重量交给别人，而是彼此扶持着，尽量幸福地承担起重量，往前走。
“她玩叛逆，显示精神上的自由。”
“她识字不多，有时候在公共场所她真的会让我感觉到尴尬。”
“可是她充满活力，她在你身边会让你觉得生活不再是那么没有意义没有欢乐。”
“他是个十足的闷罐子。”
“他那可怜巴巴、像哭那样的抱歉的笑容。见鬼的——就像一只受伤的小狗。”
“望着我，好像我应该为自己出去寻找人生快乐而感到羞耻。”
“知道吗？乔尔属于那种一辈子什么也不肯改变的人。”
乔尔是一个作家（猜测），而克莱门蒂娜是一个书店的售货员。
他们的第一次相遇在海边，乔尔不言语地坐在阶梯上，而克莱门蒂娜说“我能不能吃一块鸡肉”说话的同时就拿了一块吃起来。“没等我回答，你就拿了去。这显得有些亲密——好像我们已经是恋人一样。”
他们的相爱是注定的。一个极其拘谨沉重，一个极其自由沉重。他们都向往着彼此，因为相信彼此的性格可以互相拯救。尽管生活上有很多难以磨合的地方。
如果没有那家能帮人消除记忆的公司，没有那场乔尔与自己记忆的大战，乔尔或许也不能发现自己对于克莱门蒂娜的深爱。他穷尽一切所能来挽救自己对她的记忆。在他好不容易再次睁开眼却被医生注射进入昏睡之前，那一滴从眼角留下的眼泪见证了一切。
我爱你，我爱你。我不要忘记你，不能忘记你。
那些轰然倒塌的场景，不断转移，所有所有的都在遗失，记忆在崩解。乔尔带着克莱门蒂娜不断躲藏，在缝隙之间我们看到他们曾经的过往。而乔尔无法控制住局面，不断遗失她。
在那白色的书店里。
克莱门蒂娜说：“乔尔，我不是一个抽象的概念。你要牢记这点。很多男人把我当成一个概念或者认为我能让他们的生活圆满，焕发活力。可是我只是一个茫然无措的女孩，想寻找自己内心的宁静。所以不要再把你的心加给我。”
这是克莱门蒂娜说的话，不过不是在现实里，而是在乔尔的自我反省中。
当他意识到自己曾经对她的爱是出于用她来让自己生活圆满焕发活力的目的时，他就真的明白过来了，自己不够尊重她的存在，只是想把她来为自己服务，所以他们之间才有这样那样的矛盾，所以她的缺点他才那么计较，自以为自己有多爱她，一直以为只有她任性自私，其实最自私的原来是自己。
这场消除记忆的作战，让乔尔深切的认识了自己，反省了自己与克莱门蒂娜的爱。
其实是一场爱的救赎。
所以最后。他们再次相遇。而当他们又争吵的时候，乔尔走了出来喊着，“等等，等等。”
“等什么？”
“我也不知道，我就是想叫你等等。”
他们都接受了彼此。这次是真正的接受。
“我不是一个抽象的概念，乔尔。我只是一个困惑的女孩，想要寻找内心的宁静。我并不完美。”
“这一刻我还没有发现你有什么我不喜欢的地方。”
“会发现的。到时你会胡思乱想。而我跟你在一起会乏味，会觉得落入圈套，因为我总是这样。”
......
“OK”乔尔微笑着说，深情地看着她。
克莱门蒂娜愣住了。
“OK”克莱门蒂娜边哭边笑着说道。
我们知道，他们不会再像以前，他们会爱很久，他们的爱会很久很久。
这是很好的一部爱情片，是只关乎爱情的。我从中明白了，对于很多人，爱情，只是两个人互相寻求的平静。而不是自己臆想中的自以为是的，拯救。在这部电影里，拯救是脆弱的，是自私的。我也在生活中，慢慢消散了对于拯救的信仰。没有谁会愿意在自己脆弱的心上再加上另一个人的心的重量，也没有这个能力。我们能做的不是将自己的重量交给别人，而是彼此扶持着，尽量幸福地承担起重量，往前走。
4 ) 我曾爱你不计代价
我用着一滴泪，怎样向你微笑？
然而你出现时，我隔着满眼的泪，破涕为笑。
那些记忆中灼灼的琐碎场景，全都是爱情的记号。爱情是个多俗气的字眼，掉在心里却逃不掉。渴望记住的每一个眼神、笑容、举动，都如同斜照进窗前的阳光，曾经点亮我的梦。但后来就像一场噩梦；我以为我努力奔跑，就能够逃脱身后渐渐轰塌的世界。
我拉着你冲向未知的黑暗，莽撞一如爱情。我不要忘记你。
到底有什么是真正重要的？如果我们可以重头遇见，一切错误就可以被修改。当我们在地铁上作为陌生人交换无关紧要的台词，那时我提起的名字在你的心里唤不起温柔的情绪。窗外的一切都在飞逝，像一起大笑嬉闹的时光。
然而还是会有这样的一天，我们会分开。我们庸俗地遇见，再庸俗地分开。我想用那样一种方式，科技的传统的魔术的哪怕是最恶俗的烧照片退礼物，也要将你从我的记忆中抹去。
疼的是我的心。
到底有多少念念不忘的日子，在身后拼命地追赶。我想那就只是爱情啊，在雪地上看星星，拿着一次性筷子吃中国菜，你的头发变换成不同的色彩；你的脾气很不好，笑容有些放肆；你在地铁上搭讪，你烂醉如泥，我们吵架，在街上亲吻，猜测彼此的小心思。我们的爱不能倾城，那温暖却永远留存在我的心中。
爱上你我以为爱上了全世界。我为你哭泣微笑愤怒失落。最后我累了，我走了。我曾爱你不计代价，但那是我们谁都不可逆转的曾经。
I did.
然而当我从窗边看见天空摇摇欲坠的清晨，一切都像一场噩梦，而我只想醒来。我渴望回到你身边。
就如同从来不曾分开。
跟我说再见吧，假装你曾那样说过。
然而你出现时，我隔着满眼的泪，破涕为笑。
那些记忆中灼灼的琐碎场景，全都是爱情的记号。爱情是个多俗气的字眼，掉在心里却逃不掉。渴望记住的每一个眼神、笑容、举动，都如同斜照进窗前的阳光，曾经点亮我的梦。但后来就像一场噩梦；我以为我努力奔跑，就能够逃脱身后渐渐轰塌的世界。
我拉着你冲向未知的黑暗，莽撞一如爱情。我不要忘记你。
到底有什么是真正重要的？如果我们可以重头遇见，一切错误就可以被修改。当我们在地铁上作为陌生人交换无关紧要的台词，那时我提起的名字在你的心里唤不起温柔的情绪。窗外的一切都在飞逝，像一起大笑嬉闹的时光。
然而还是会有这样的一天，我们会分开。我们庸俗地遇见，再庸俗地分开。我想用那样一种方式，科技的传统的魔术的哪怕是最恶俗的烧照片退礼物，也要将你从我的记忆中抹去。
疼的是我的心。
到底有多少念念不忘的日子，在身后拼命地追赶。我想那就只是爱情啊，在雪地上看星星，拿着一次性筷子吃中国菜，你的头发变换成不同的色彩；你的脾气很不好，笑容有些放肆；你在地铁上搭讪，你烂醉如泥，我们吵架，在街上亲吻，猜测彼此的小心思。我们的爱不能倾城，那温暖却永远留存在我的心中。
爱上你我以为爱上了全世界。我为你哭泣微笑愤怒失落。最后我累了，我走了。我曾爱你不计代价，但那是我们谁都不可逆转的曾经。
I did.
然而当我从窗边看见天空摇摇欲坠的清晨，一切都像一场噩梦，而我只想醒来。我渴望回到你身边。
就如同从来不曾分开。
跟我说再见吧，假装你曾那样说过。
5 ) Eloisa to Abelard
在Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind 里引用了一些quotations 其中一首诗的一段 作为朦胧的启发点
现在把这首长诗贴出来 来自Alexander Pope的Eloisa to Abelard
In these deep solitudes and awful cells,
Where heav'nly-pensive contemplation dwells,
And ever-musing melancholy reigns;
What means this tumult in a vestal's veins?
Why rove my thoughts beyond this last retreat?
Why feels my heart its long-forgotten heat?
Yet, yet I love!—From Abelard it came,
And Eloisa yet must kiss the name.
Dear fatal name! rest ever unreveal'd,
Nor pass these lips in holy silence seal'd.
Hide it, my heart, within that close disguise,
Where mix'd with God's, his lov'd idea lies:
O write it not, my hand—the name appears
Already written—wash it out, my tears!
In vain lost Eloisa weeps and prays,
Her heart still dictates, and her hand obeys.
Relentless walls! whose darksome round contains
Repentant sighs, and voluntary pains:
Ye rugged rocks! which holy knees have worn;
Ye grots and caverns shagg'd with horrid thorn!
Shrines! where their vigils pale-ey'd virgins keep,
And pitying saints, whose statues learn to weep!
Though cold like you, unmov'd, and silent grown,
I have not yet forgot myself to stone.
All is not Heav'n's while Abelard has part,
Still rebel nature holds out half my heart;
Nor pray'rs nor fasts its stubborn pulse restrain,
Nor tears, for ages, taught to flow in vain.
Soon as thy letters trembling I unclose,
That well-known name awakens all my woes.
Oh name for ever sad! for ever dear!
Still breath'd in sighs, still usher'd with a tear.
I tremble too, where'er my own I find,
Some dire misfortune follows close behind.
Line after line my gushing eyes o'erflow,
Led through a sad variety of woe:
Now warm in love, now with'ring in thy bloom,
Lost in a convent's solitary gloom!
There stern religion quench'd th' unwilling flame,
There died the best of passions, love and fame.
Yet write, oh write me all, that I may join
Griefs to thy griefs, and echo sighs to thine.
Nor foes nor fortune take this pow'r away;
And is my Abelard less kind than they?
Tears still are mine, and those I need not spare,
Love but demands what else were shed in pray'r;
No happier task these faded eyes pursue;
To read and weep is all they now can do.
Then share thy pain, allow that sad relief;
Ah, more than share it! give me all thy grief.
Heav'n first taught letters for some wretch's aid,
Some banish'd lover, or some captive maid;
They live, they speak, they breathe what love inspires,
Warm from the soul, and faithful to its fires,
The virgin's wish without her fears impart,
Excuse the blush, and pour out all the heart,
Speed the soft intercourse from soul to soul,
And waft a sigh from Indus to the Pole.
Thou know'st how guiltless first I met thy flame,
When Love approach'd me under Friendship's name;
My fancy form'd thee of angelic kind,
Some emanation of th' all-beauteous Mind.
Those smiling eyes, attemp'ring ev'ry day,
Shone sweetly lambent with celestial day.
Guiltless I gaz'd; heav'n listen'd while you sung;
And truths divine came mended from that tongue.
From lips like those what precept fail'd to move?
Too soon they taught me 'twas no sin to love.
Back through the paths of pleasing sense I ran,
Nor wish'd an Angel whom I lov'd a Man.
Dim and remote the joys of saints I see;
Nor envy them, that heav'n I lose for thee.
How oft, when press'd to marriage, have I said,
Curse on all laws but those which love has made!
Love, free as air, at sight of human ties,
Spreads his light wings, and in a moment flies,
Let wealth, let honour, wait the wedded dame,
August her deed, and sacred be her fame;
Before true passion all those views remove,
Fame, wealth, and honour! what are you to Love?
The jealous God, when we profane his fires,
Those restless passions in revenge inspires;
And bids them make mistaken mortals groan,
Who seek in love for aught but love alone.
Should at my feet the world's great master fall,
Himself, his throne, his world, I'd scorn 'em all:
Not Caesar's empress would I deign to prove;
No, make me mistress to the man I love;
If there be yet another name more free,
More fond than mistress, make me that to thee!
Oh happy state! when souls each other draw,
When love is liberty, and nature, law:
All then is full, possessing, and possess'd,
No craving void left aching in the breast:
Ev'n thought meets thought, ere from the lips it part,
And each warm wish springs mutual from the heart.
This sure is bliss (if bliss on earth there be)
And once the lot of Abelard and me.
Alas, how chang'd! what sudden horrors rise!
A naked lover bound and bleeding lies!
Where, where was Eloise? her voice, her hand,
Her poniard, had oppos'd the dire command.
Barbarian, stay! that bloody stroke restrain;
The crime was common, common be the pain.
I can no more; by shame, by rage suppress'd,
Let tears, and burning blushes speak the rest.
Canst thou forget that sad, that solemn day,
When victims at yon altar's foot we lay?
Canst thou forget what tears that moment fell,
When, warm in youth, I bade the world farewell?
As with cold lips I kiss'd the sacred veil,
The shrines all trembl'd, and the lamps grew pale:
Heav'n scarce believ'd the conquest it survey'd,
And saints with wonder heard the vows I made.
Yet then, to those dread altars as I drew,
Not on the Cross my eyes were fix'd, but you:
Not grace, or zeal, love only was my call,
And if I lose thy love, I lose my all.
Come! with thy looks, thy words, relieve my woe;
Those still at least are left thee to bestow.
Still on that breast enamour'd let me lie,
Still drink delicious poison from thy eye,
Pant on thy lip, and to thy heart be press'd;
Give all thou canst—and let me dream the rest.
Ah no! instruct me other joys to prize,
With other beauties charm my partial eyes,
Full in my view set all the bright abode,
And make my soul quit Abelard for God.
Ah, think at least thy flock deserves thy care,
Plants of thy hand, and children of thy pray'r.
From the false world in early youth they fled,
By thee to mountains, wilds, and deserts led.
You rais'd these hallow'd walls; the desert smil'd,
And Paradise was open'd in the wild.
No weeping orphan saw his father's stores
Our shrines irradiate, or emblaze the floors;
No silver saints, by dying misers giv'n,
Here brib'd the rage of ill-requited heav'n:
But such plain roofs as piety could raise,
And only vocal with the Maker's praise.
In these lone walls (their days eternal bound)
These moss-grown domes with spiry turrets crown'd,
Where awful arches make a noonday night,
And the dim windows shed a solemn light;
Thy eyes diffus'd a reconciling ray,
And gleams of glory brighten'd all the day.
But now no face divine contentment wears,
'Tis all blank sadness, or continual tears.
See how the force of others' pray'rs I try,
(O pious fraud of am'rous charity!)
But why should I on others' pray'rs depend?
Come thou, my father, brother, husband, friend!
Ah let thy handmaid, sister, daughter move,
And all those tender names in one, thy love!
The darksome pines that o'er yon rocks reclin'd
Wave high, and murmur to the hollow wind,
The wand'ring streams that shine between the hills,
The grots that echo to the tinkling rills,
The dying gales that pant upon the trees,
The lakes that quiver to the curling breeze;
No more these scenes my meditation aid,
Or lull to rest the visionary maid.
But o'er the twilight groves and dusky caves,
Long-sounding aisles, and intermingled graves,
Black Melancholy sits, and round her throws
A death-like silence, and a dread repose:
Her gloomy presence saddens all the scene,
Shades ev'ry flow'r, and darkens ev'ry green,
Deepens the murmur of the falling floods,
And breathes a browner horror on the woods.
Yet here for ever, ever must I stay;
Sad proof how well a lover can obey!
Death, only death, can break the lasting chain;
And here, ev'n then, shall my cold dust remain,
Here all its frailties, all its flames resign,
And wait till 'tis no sin to mix with thine.
Ah wretch! believ'd the spouse of God in vain,
Confess'd within the slave of love and man.
Assist me, Heav'n! but whence arose that pray'r?
Sprung it from piety, or from despair?
Ev'n here, where frozen chastity retires,
Love finds an altar for forbidden fires.
I ought to grieve, but cannot what I ought;
I mourn the lover, not lament the fault;
I view my crime, but kindle at the view,
Repent old pleasures, and solicit new;
Now turn'd to Heav'n, I weep my past offence,
Now think of thee, and curse my innocence.
Of all affliction taught a lover yet,
'Tis sure the hardest science to forget!
How shall I lose the sin, yet keep the sense,
And love th' offender, yet detest th' offence?
How the dear object from the crime remove,
Or how distinguish penitence from love?
Unequal task! a passion to resign,
For hearts so touch'd, so pierc'd, so lost as mine.
Ere such a soul regains its peaceful state,
How often must it love, how often hate!
How often hope, despair, resent, regret,
Conceal, disdain—do all things but forget.
But let Heav'n seize it, all at once 'tis fir'd;
Not touch'd, but rapt; not waken'd, but inspir'd!
Oh come! oh teach me nature to subdue,
Renounce my love, my life, myself—and you.
Fill my fond heart with God alone, for he
Alone can rival, can succeed to thee.
How happy is the blameless vestal's lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd;
Labour and rest, that equal periods keep;
"Obedient slumbers that can wake and weep;"
Desires compos'd, affections ever ev'n,
Tears that delight, and sighs that waft to Heav'n.
Grace shines around her with serenest beams,
And whisp'ring angels prompt her golden dreams.
For her th' unfading rose of Eden blooms,
And wings of seraphs shed divine perfumes,
For her the Spouse prepares the bridal ring,
For her white virgins hymeneals sing,
To sounds of heav'nly harps she dies away,
And melts in visions of eternal day.
Far other dreams my erring soul employ,
Far other raptures, of unholy joy:
When at the close of each sad, sorrowing day,
Fancy restores what vengeance snatch'd away,
Then conscience sleeps, and leaving nature free,
All my loose soul unbounded springs to thee.
Oh curs'd, dear horrors of all-conscious night!
How glowing guilt exalts the keen delight!
Provoking Daemons all restraint remove,
And stir within me every source of love.
I hear thee, view thee, gaze o'er all thy charms,
And round thy phantom glue my clasping arms.
I wake—no more I hear, no more I view,
The phantom flies me, as unkind as you.
I call aloud; it hears not what I say;
I stretch my empty arms; it glides away.
To dream once more I close my willing eyes;
Ye soft illusions, dear deceits, arise!
Alas, no more—methinks we wand'ring go
Through dreary wastes, and weep each other's woe,
Where round some mould'ring tower pale ivy creeps,
And low-brow'd rocks hang nodding o'er the deeps.
Sudden you mount, you beckon from the skies;
Clouds interpose, waves roar, and winds arise.
I shriek, start up, the same sad prospect find,
And wake to all the griefs I left behind.
For thee the fates, severely kind, ordain
A cool suspense from pleasure and from pain;
Thy life a long, dead calm of fix'd repose;
No pulse that riots, and no blood that glows.
Still as the sea, ere winds were taught to blow,
Or moving spirit bade the waters flow;
Soft as the slumbers of a saint forgiv'n,
And mild as opening gleams of promis'd heav'n.
Come, Abelard! for what hast thou to dread?
The torch of Venus burns not for the dead.
Nature stands check'd; Religion disapproves;
Ev'n thou art cold—yet Eloisa loves.
Ah hopeless, lasting flames! like those that burn
To light the dead, and warm th' unfruitful urn.
What scenes appear where'er I turn my view?
The dear ideas, where I fly, pursue,
Rise in the grove, before the altar rise,
Stain all my soul, and wanton in my eyes.
I waste the matin lamp in sighs for thee,
Thy image steals between my God and me,
Thy voice I seem in ev'ry hymn to hear,
With ev'ry bead I drop too soft a tear.
When from the censer clouds of fragrance roll,
And swelling organs lift the rising soul,
One thought of thee puts all the pomp to flight,
Priests, tapers, temples, swim before my sight:
In seas of flame my plunging soul is drown'd,
While altars blaze, and angels tremble round.
While prostrate here in humble grief I lie,
Kind, virtuous drops just gath'ring in my eye,
While praying, trembling, in the dust I roll,
And dawning grace is op'ning on my soul:
Come, if thou dar'st, all charming as thou art!
Oppose thyself to Heav'n; dispute my heart;
Come, with one glance of those deluding eyes
Blot out each bright idea of the skies;
Take back that grace, those sorrows, and those tears;
Take back my fruitless penitence and pray'rs;
Snatch me, just mounting, from the blest abode;
Assist the fiends, and tear me from my God!
No, fly me, fly me, far as pole from pole;
Rise Alps between us! and whole oceans roll!
Ah, come not, write not, think not once of me,
Nor share one pang of all I felt for thee.
Thy oaths I quit, thy memory resign;
Forget, renounce me, hate whate'er was mine.
Fair eyes, and tempting looks (which yet I view!)
Long lov'd, ador'd ideas, all adieu!
Oh Grace serene! oh virtue heav'nly fair!
Divine oblivion of low-thoughted care!
Fresh blooming hope, gay daughter of the sky!
And faith, our early immortality!
Enter, each mild, each amicable guest;
Receive, and wrap me in eternal rest!
See in her cell sad Eloisa spread,
Propp'd on some tomb, a neighbour of the dead.
In each low wind methinks a spirit calls,
And more than echoes talk along the walls.
Here, as I watch'd the dying lamps around,
From yonder shrine I heard a hollow sound.
"Come, sister, come!" (it said, or seem'd to say)
"Thy place is here, sad sister, come away!
Once like thyself, I trembled, wept, and pray'd,
Love's victim then, though now a sainted maid:
But all is calm in this eternal sleep;
Here grief forgets to groan, and love to weep,
Ev'n superstition loses ev'ry fear:
For God, not man, absolves our frailties here."
I come, I come! prepare your roseate bow'rs,
Celestial palms, and ever-blooming flow'rs.
Thither, where sinners may have rest, I go,
Where flames refin'd in breasts seraphic glow:
Thou, Abelard! the last sad office pay,
And smooth my passage to the realms of day;
See my lips tremble, and my eye-balls roll,
Suck my last breath, and catch my flying soul!
Ah no—in sacred vestments may'st thou stand,
The hallow'd taper trembling in thy hand,
Present the cross before my lifted eye,
Teach me at once, and learn of me to die.
Ah then, thy once-lov'd Eloisa see!
It will be then no crime to gaze on me.
See from my cheek the transient roses fly!
See the last sparkle languish in my eye!
Till ev'ry motion, pulse, and breath be o'er;
And ev'n my Abelard be lov'd no more.
O Death all-eloquent! you only prove
What dust we dote on, when 'tis man we love.
Then too, when fate shall thy fair frame destroy,
(That cause of all my guilt, and all my joy)
In trance ecstatic may thy pangs be drown'd,
Bright clouds descend, and angels watch thee round,
From op'ning skies may streaming glories shine,
And saints embrace thee with a love like mine.
May one kind grave unite each hapless name,
And graft my love immortal on thy fame!
Then, ages hence, when all my woes are o'er,
When this rebellious heart shall beat no more;
If ever chance two wand'ring lovers brings
To Paraclete's white walls and silver springs,
O'er the pale marble shall they join their heads,
And drink the falling tears each other sheds;
Then sadly say, with mutual pity mov'd,
"Oh may we never love as these have lov'd!"
From the full choir when loud Hosannas rise,
And swell the pomp of dreadful sacrifice,
Amid that scene if some relenting eye
Glance on the stone where our cold relics lie,
Devotion's self shall steal a thought from Heav'n,
One human tear shall drop and be forgiv'n.
And sure, if fate some future bard shall join
In sad similitude of griefs to mine,
Condemn'd whole years in absence to deplore,
And image charms he must behold no more;
Such if there be, who loves so long, so well;
Let him our sad, our tender story tell;
The well-sung woes will soothe my pensive ghost;
He best can paint 'em, who shall feel 'em most.
现在把这首长诗贴出来 来自Alexander Pope的Eloisa to Abelard
In these deep solitudes and awful cells,
Where heav'nly-pensive contemplation dwells,
And ever-musing melancholy reigns;
What means this tumult in a vestal's veins?
Why rove my thoughts beyond this last retreat?
Why feels my heart its long-forgotten heat?
Yet, yet I love!—From Abelard it came,
And Eloisa yet must kiss the name.
Dear fatal name! rest ever unreveal'd,
Nor pass these lips in holy silence seal'd.
Hide it, my heart, within that close disguise,
Where mix'd with God's, his lov'd idea lies:
O write it not, my hand—the name appears
Already written—wash it out, my tears!
In vain lost Eloisa weeps and prays,
Her heart still dictates, and her hand obeys.
Relentless walls! whose darksome round contains
Repentant sighs, and voluntary pains:
Ye rugged rocks! which holy knees have worn;
Ye grots and caverns shagg'd with horrid thorn!
Shrines! where their vigils pale-ey'd virgins keep,
And pitying saints, whose statues learn to weep!
Though cold like you, unmov'd, and silent grown,
I have not yet forgot myself to stone.
All is not Heav'n's while Abelard has part,
Still rebel nature holds out half my heart;
Nor pray'rs nor fasts its stubborn pulse restrain,
Nor tears, for ages, taught to flow in vain.
Soon as thy letters trembling I unclose,
That well-known name awakens all my woes.
Oh name for ever sad! for ever dear!
Still breath'd in sighs, still usher'd with a tear.
I tremble too, where'er my own I find,
Some dire misfortune follows close behind.
Line after line my gushing eyes o'erflow,
Led through a sad variety of woe:
Now warm in love, now with'ring in thy bloom,
Lost in a convent's solitary gloom!
There stern religion quench'd th' unwilling flame,
There died the best of passions, love and fame.
Yet write, oh write me all, that I may join
Griefs to thy griefs, and echo sighs to thine.
Nor foes nor fortune take this pow'r away;
And is my Abelard less kind than they?
Tears still are mine, and those I need not spare,
Love but demands what else were shed in pray'r;
No happier task these faded eyes pursue;
To read and weep is all they now can do.
Then share thy pain, allow that sad relief;
Ah, more than share it! give me all thy grief.
Heav'n first taught letters for some wretch's aid,
Some banish'd lover, or some captive maid;
They live, they speak, they breathe what love inspires,
Warm from the soul, and faithful to its fires,
The virgin's wish without her fears impart,
Excuse the blush, and pour out all the heart,
Speed the soft intercourse from soul to soul,
And waft a sigh from Indus to the Pole.
Thou know'st how guiltless first I met thy flame,
When Love approach'd me under Friendship's name;
My fancy form'd thee of angelic kind,
Some emanation of th' all-beauteous Mind.
Those smiling eyes, attemp'ring ev'ry day,
Shone sweetly lambent with celestial day.
Guiltless I gaz'd; heav'n listen'd while you sung;
And truths divine came mended from that tongue.
From lips like those what precept fail'd to move?
Too soon they taught me 'twas no sin to love.
Back through the paths of pleasing sense I ran,
Nor wish'd an Angel whom I lov'd a Man.
Dim and remote the joys of saints I see;
Nor envy them, that heav'n I lose for thee.
How oft, when press'd to marriage, have I said,
Curse on all laws but those which love has made!
Love, free as air, at sight of human ties,
Spreads his light wings, and in a moment flies,
Let wealth, let honour, wait the wedded dame,
August her deed, and sacred be her fame;
Before true passion all those views remove,
Fame, wealth, and honour! what are you to Love?
The jealous God, when we profane his fires,
Those restless passions in revenge inspires;
And bids them make mistaken mortals groan,
Who seek in love for aught but love alone.
Should at my feet the world's great master fall,
Himself, his throne, his world, I'd scorn 'em all:
Not Caesar's empress would I deign to prove;
No, make me mistress to the man I love;
If there be yet another name more free,
More fond than mistress, make me that to thee!
Oh happy state! when souls each other draw,
When love is liberty, and nature, law:
All then is full, possessing, and possess'd,
No craving void left aching in the breast:
Ev'n thought meets thought, ere from the lips it part,
And each warm wish springs mutual from the heart.
This sure is bliss (if bliss on earth there be)
And once the lot of Abelard and me.
Alas, how chang'd! what sudden horrors rise!
A naked lover bound and bleeding lies!
Where, where was Eloise? her voice, her hand,
Her poniard, had oppos'd the dire command.
Barbarian, stay! that bloody stroke restrain;
The crime was common, common be the pain.
I can no more; by shame, by rage suppress'd,
Let tears, and burning blushes speak the rest.
Canst thou forget that sad, that solemn day,
When victims at yon altar's foot we lay?
Canst thou forget what tears that moment fell,
When, warm in youth, I bade the world farewell?
As with cold lips I kiss'd the sacred veil,
The shrines all trembl'd, and the lamps grew pale:
Heav'n scarce believ'd the conquest it survey'd,
And saints with wonder heard the vows I made.
Yet then, to those dread altars as I drew,
Not on the Cross my eyes were fix'd, but you:
Not grace, or zeal, love only was my call,
And if I lose thy love, I lose my all.
Come! with thy looks, thy words, relieve my woe;
Those still at least are left thee to bestow.
Still on that breast enamour'd let me lie,
Still drink delicious poison from thy eye,
Pant on thy lip, and to thy heart be press'd;
Give all thou canst—and let me dream the rest.
Ah no! instruct me other joys to prize,
With other beauties charm my partial eyes,
Full in my view set all the bright abode,
And make my soul quit Abelard for God.
Ah, think at least thy flock deserves thy care,
Plants of thy hand, and children of thy pray'r.
From the false world in early youth they fled,
By thee to mountains, wilds, and deserts led.
You rais'd these hallow'd walls; the desert smil'd,
And Paradise was open'd in the wild.
No weeping orphan saw his father's stores
Our shrines irradiate, or emblaze the floors;
No silver saints, by dying misers giv'n,
Here brib'd the rage of ill-requited heav'n:
But such plain roofs as piety could raise,
And only vocal with the Maker's praise.
In these lone walls (their days eternal bound)
These moss-grown domes with spiry turrets crown'd,
Where awful arches make a noonday night,
And the dim windows shed a solemn light;
Thy eyes diffus'd a reconciling ray,
And gleams of glory brighten'd all the day.
But now no face divine contentment wears,
'Tis all blank sadness, or continual tears.
See how the force of others' pray'rs I try,
(O pious fraud of am'rous charity!)
But why should I on others' pray'rs depend?
Come thou, my father, brother, husband, friend!
Ah let thy handmaid, sister, daughter move,
And all those tender names in one, thy love!
The darksome pines that o'er yon rocks reclin'd
Wave high, and murmur to the hollow wind,
The wand'ring streams that shine between the hills,
The grots that echo to the tinkling rills,
The dying gales that pant upon the trees,
The lakes that quiver to the curling breeze;
No more these scenes my meditation aid,
Or lull to rest the visionary maid.
But o'er the twilight groves and dusky caves,
Long-sounding aisles, and intermingled graves,
Black Melancholy sits, and round her throws
A death-like silence, and a dread repose:
Her gloomy presence saddens all the scene,
Shades ev'ry flow'r, and darkens ev'ry green,
Deepens the murmur of the falling floods,
And breathes a browner horror on the woods.
Yet here for ever, ever must I stay;
Sad proof how well a lover can obey!
Death, only death, can break the lasting chain;
And here, ev'n then, shall my cold dust remain,
Here all its frailties, all its flames resign,
And wait till 'tis no sin to mix with thine.
Ah wretch! believ'd the spouse of God in vain,
Confess'd within the slave of love and man.
Assist me, Heav'n! but whence arose that pray'r?
Sprung it from piety, or from despair?
Ev'n here, where frozen chastity retires,
Love finds an altar for forbidden fires.
I ought to grieve, but cannot what I ought;
I mourn the lover, not lament the fault;
I view my crime, but kindle at the view,
Repent old pleasures, and solicit new;
Now turn'd to Heav'n, I weep my past offence,
Now think of thee, and curse my innocence.
Of all affliction taught a lover yet,
'Tis sure the hardest science to forget!
How shall I lose the sin, yet keep the sense,
And love th' offender, yet detest th' offence?
How the dear object from the crime remove,
Or how distinguish penitence from love?
Unequal task! a passion to resign,
For hearts so touch'd, so pierc'd, so lost as mine.
Ere such a soul regains its peaceful state,
How often must it love, how often hate!
How often hope, despair, resent, regret,
Conceal, disdain—do all things but forget.
But let Heav'n seize it, all at once 'tis fir'd;
Not touch'd, but rapt; not waken'd, but inspir'd!
Oh come! oh teach me nature to subdue,
Renounce my love, my life, myself—and you.
Fill my fond heart with God alone, for he
Alone can rival, can succeed to thee.
How happy is the blameless vestal's lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd;
Labour and rest, that equal periods keep;
"Obedient slumbers that can wake and weep;"
Desires compos'd, affections ever ev'n,
Tears that delight, and sighs that waft to Heav'n.
Grace shines around her with serenest beams,
And whisp'ring angels prompt her golden dreams.
For her th' unfading rose of Eden blooms,
And wings of seraphs shed divine perfumes,
For her the Spouse prepares the bridal ring,
For her white virgins hymeneals sing,
To sounds of heav'nly harps she dies away,
And melts in visions of eternal day.
Far other dreams my erring soul employ,
Far other raptures, of unholy joy:
When at the close of each sad, sorrowing day,
Fancy restores what vengeance snatch'd away,
Then conscience sleeps, and leaving nature free,
All my loose soul unbounded springs to thee.
Oh curs'd, dear horrors of all-conscious night!
How glowing guilt exalts the keen delight!
Provoking Daemons all restraint remove,
And stir within me every source of love.
I hear thee, view thee, gaze o'er all thy charms,
And round thy phantom glue my clasping arms.
I wake—no more I hear, no more I view,
The phantom flies me, as unkind as you.
I call aloud; it hears not what I say;
I stretch my empty arms; it glides away.
To dream once more I close my willing eyes;
Ye soft illusions, dear deceits, arise!
Alas, no more—methinks we wand'ring go
Through dreary wastes, and weep each other's woe,
Where round some mould'ring tower pale ivy creeps,
And low-brow'd rocks hang nodding o'er the deeps.
Sudden you mount, you beckon from the skies;
Clouds interpose, waves roar, and winds arise.
I shriek, start up, the same sad prospect find,
And wake to all the griefs I left behind.
For thee the fates, severely kind, ordain
A cool suspense from pleasure and from pain;
Thy life a long, dead calm of fix'd repose;
No pulse that riots, and no blood that glows.
Still as the sea, ere winds were taught to blow,
Or moving spirit bade the waters flow;
Soft as the slumbers of a saint forgiv'n,
And mild as opening gleams of promis'd heav'n.
Come, Abelard! for what hast thou to dread?
The torch of Venus burns not for the dead.
Nature stands check'd; Religion disapproves;
Ev'n thou art cold—yet Eloisa loves.
Ah hopeless, lasting flames! like those that burn
To light the dead, and warm th' unfruitful urn.
What scenes appear where'er I turn my view?
The dear ideas, where I fly, pursue,
Rise in the grove, before the altar rise,
Stain all my soul, and wanton in my eyes.
I waste the matin lamp in sighs for thee,
Thy image steals between my God and me,
Thy voice I seem in ev'ry hymn to hear,
With ev'ry bead I drop too soft a tear.
When from the censer clouds of fragrance roll,
And swelling organs lift the rising soul,
One thought of thee puts all the pomp to flight,
Priests, tapers, temples, swim before my sight:
In seas of flame my plunging soul is drown'd,
While altars blaze, and angels tremble round.
While prostrate here in humble grief I lie,
Kind, virtuous drops just gath'ring in my eye,
While praying, trembling, in the dust I roll,
And dawning grace is op'ning on my soul:
Come, if thou dar'st, all charming as thou art!
Oppose thyself to Heav'n; dispute my heart;
Come, with one glance of those deluding eyes
Blot out each bright idea of the skies;
Take back that grace, those sorrows, and those tears;
Take back my fruitless penitence and pray'rs;
Snatch me, just mounting, from the blest abode;
Assist the fiends, and tear me from my God!
No, fly me, fly me, far as pole from pole;
Rise Alps between us! and whole oceans roll!
Ah, come not, write not, think not once of me,
Nor share one pang of all I felt for thee.
Thy oaths I quit, thy memory resign;
Forget, renounce me, hate whate'er was mine.
Fair eyes, and tempting looks (which yet I view!)
Long lov'd, ador'd ideas, all adieu!
Oh Grace serene! oh virtue heav'nly fair!
Divine oblivion of low-thoughted care!
Fresh blooming hope, gay daughter of the sky!
And faith, our early immortality!
Enter, each mild, each amicable guest;
Receive, and wrap me in eternal rest!
See in her cell sad Eloisa spread,
Propp'd on some tomb, a neighbour of the dead.
In each low wind methinks a spirit calls,
And more than echoes talk along the walls.
Here, as I watch'd the dying lamps around,
From yonder shrine I heard a hollow sound.
"Come, sister, come!" (it said, or seem'd to say)
"Thy place is here, sad sister, come away!
Once like thyself, I trembled, wept, and pray'd,
Love's victim then, though now a sainted maid:
But all is calm in this eternal sleep;
Here grief forgets to groan, and love to weep,
Ev'n superstition loses ev'ry fear:
For God, not man, absolves our frailties here."
I come, I come! prepare your roseate bow'rs,
Celestial palms, and ever-blooming flow'rs.
Thither, where sinners may have rest, I go,
Where flames refin'd in breasts seraphic glow:
Thou, Abelard! the last sad office pay,
And smooth my passage to the realms of day;
See my lips tremble, and my eye-balls roll,
Suck my last breath, and catch my flying soul!
Ah no—in sacred vestments may'st thou stand,
The hallow'd taper trembling in thy hand,
Present the cross before my lifted eye,
Teach me at once, and learn of me to die.
Ah then, thy once-lov'd Eloisa see!
It will be then no crime to gaze on me.
See from my cheek the transient roses fly!
See the last sparkle languish in my eye!
Till ev'ry motion, pulse, and breath be o'er;
And ev'n my Abelard be lov'd no more.
O Death all-eloquent! you only prove
What dust we dote on, when 'tis man we love.
Then too, when fate shall thy fair frame destroy,
(That cause of all my guilt, and all my joy)
In trance ecstatic may thy pangs be drown'd,
Bright clouds descend, and angels watch thee round,
From op'ning skies may streaming glories shine,
And saints embrace thee with a love like mine.
May one kind grave unite each hapless name,
And graft my love immortal on thy fame!
Then, ages hence, when all my woes are o'er,
When this rebellious heart shall beat no more;
If ever chance two wand'ring lovers brings
To Paraclete's white walls and silver springs,
O'er the pale marble shall they join their heads,
And drink the falling tears each other sheds;
Then sadly say, with mutual pity mov'd,
"Oh may we never love as these have lov'd!"
From the full choir when loud Hosannas rise,
And swell the pomp of dreadful sacrifice,
Amid that scene if some relenting eye
Glance on the stone where our cold relics lie,
Devotion's self shall steal a thought from Heav'n,
One human tear shall drop and be forgiv'n.
And sure, if fate some future bard shall join
In sad similitude of griefs to mine,
Condemn'd whole years in absence to deplore,
And image charms he must behold no more;
Such if there be, who loves so long, so well;
Let him our sad, our tender story tell;
The well-sung woes will soothe my pensive ghost;
He best can paint 'em, who shall feel 'em most.
6 ) 爱情哲学
第一次看到这部电影的短片广告是在一部普通电影开始前。一位白发苍苍的老头扮成科学家的样子，在充满试管烧瓶和电子仪器的实验室里面对屏幕说：想像一天，你的生活将变成完美。想像一天，现代科技的发展能够消除生活里一切不完美的片断。想像一天，生活中不再有悲伤绝望，生命永远阳光灿烂。
我清清楚楚的记得自己当时的反应是：“多么奇怪的广告！说了半天都不知道在宣传什么产品。”
真正开始看这部电影的时候，前面半个多小时我的反应就跟对短片广告的反应差不多：什么意思，什么意思嘛！
所以当金·凯利饰演的男主人公约尔发现自己的前女朋友，凯特·温斯莱特饰演的克俪门泰通过这种先进的科技手段把痛苦的记忆，把关于他的一切记忆从头脑中抹去之后，自己也决定进行同样的手术把克俪门泰从记忆中消除的时候，我那种恍然大悟的解脱，简直是醍醐灌顶，简直比被最最智慧的老和尚当头给我一棒喝还要过瘾。我恨不得从座位里站起来，对着屏幕大喊：导演是个天才，我看懂了，我也是个天才！
当然，我没有站起来大喊。自认天才的我可不是傻瓜。这部电影的精彩之处从这里才刚刚开始。
创作这个剧本的查里·卡夫曼才是幕后真正的天才。他带领观众在约尔的潜意识里游走，用最幽默最不可思议却又最深刻的方式剖析人的意识与思维。幸福快乐是人类永恒追求的目标。多少次，我们幻想忘记那些不快乐的记忆，消除那些痛苦的回忆。可假如有一天，科技进步能够抹去记忆中的一切污点，让无暇的心灵生活在永恒阳光里，我们就真的幸福了吗？失去痛苦的同时人也失去了自我调和的可能，失去了接受自我接受生活的机会，结果错误的历史被一再重复。
故事里约尔的潜意识发现自己仍深爱克俪门泰的时候，约尔不得不与自己的意识搏斗，拯救关于爱情的最后记忆。这时候故事如何发展都不再重要了，甚至约尔与克俪门泰的爱情如何感人如何震撼都不是重点。重点是这部电影把一个复杂的哲学问题如此形象感人的表达出来，所有的一切因果是空前完满，没有半点破绽。与其说这是一部爱情电影，不如说这是一部哲学电影，是一次智慧的灌溉。虽然它并不能给我们的心灵带来永恒阳光，却带领我们向幸福的方向迈进了一步。
虽说《无暇心灵的永恒阳光》在哲学上的震撼超越了爱情，可从此之后，每当我想到爱情，眼前浮现的都是约尔与碧蓝头发的克俪门泰躺在裂痕四射的冰冻湖面上的静谧平和与平静表面下的波涛暗涌。所以当周迅在陈可辛的《如果·爱》里重复了躺在冰面上的镜头时，我就已经基本预测出了电影的结局。
他乏味、无聊、内敛、行为老派、做事谨慎；她冲动、敏感、肤浅、生活刺激、缺乏安全感。他们之间有争吵，有磨合，有甜蜜，有苦涩，因为相爱而互相折磨，因为分开而苦苦思念。但只要还在一起，还记得对方，看得到你眼中的自己，就一切都好。
爱可以触摸物化，记忆可以抹去重置，唯有对你爱的感觉，经年难忘。当日复一日的庸常、性格相异的琐碎击败了我们引以为傲的美好，来一粒遗忘做解药。却为何眼含热泪，恍如隔世。我记不得没有你的其他回忆，因为遇到你之前我的生命都毫无意义。房间坍塌海水倒灌雨倾盆而下，爱你，却如燎原之火生生不息。
美国当年最智性的主流影片之一。彻底扭转我对Jim Carey的态度
太墨迹了
让今敏去拍,肯定又是另一种味道,更加动感一点的,更加活泼一点的.
看了三分之一，然后失去了兴趣
与其说是爱情电影，不如说是哲学。
如果有一天，我们之间的记忆被删除掉，你还会不会像从前一样爱我，就像我们之间没有彼此伤害过一样？
You can erase someone from your mind. Getting them out of your heart is another story
获得2004年奥斯卡最佳原创剧本，借用科幻外壳来探讨爱情本质的哲学电影。全片叙事近似意识流，而这种支离破碎的结构将人心深处的各个角落都呈现给观众，恰似我们对生活的点点滴滴记忆的重现，真正是形散而神不散~片名来自蒲柏长诗，隐喻性很强。永恒的主题——爱情的矛盾与困境 ...... | 【20200119重温】将梦境的流动性、跳跃性与反逻辑性悉数还原，既与《盗梦空间》构成对位关系（梦与记忆的操控，无尽的逃亡与梦中的诀别），又是对“世间所有的相遇，都是久别重逢”的别样诠释。一会儿笼罩于绝望时如影随形的黑暗之中，一会儿又置身冰雪海岸，暖融融的床兀立其间。逃入humiliation之中，遁入童年里，躲到饭桌下，在水槽中沐浴后淹水——重回母腹后的重生与死亡相交织。（9.5/10）
披着奇幻外衣的爱情哲学，删的了的回忆，删不了的爱情。爱死凯特那一头张扬的红发了，觉得这是她最美的时期，胜过肥螺丝时期。
第二次看，妙，一些有趣的段落当时没察觉。首先剧作厉害，探讨的问题严肃，与戏剧性结合的好，然后在记忆删除的过程中东躲西藏多有想象力，记忆和现实影像有微妙但无明显分界，手持摄影很酷（虽然前排大银幕把我晃惨了）。温姐和kik都是经得起大荧幕大特写考验的大美人。but 暖暖内含光是特么啥鸟翻译
“我现在就可以死去”
想象不到的桥段一个接一个，利用他人日记把妹，躲藏记忆，羞耻里的意识，知道真相的暗恋者，对彼此的抱怨，即使老套的消除记忆再次钟情也被用的恰到好处。I’ll get bored of you and feel trapped, because that’s what happens with me. OK. 这个OK的语气和表情，拿捏的好到我竟然冒出了眼泪
如果失去记忆，能否再一见钟情？
我旧blog的模版底部一直写着一句话，只是我用白色字体把它隐在白色背景里，后来我才知道，如果搜我的那个blog。那句话就清楚显示在blog名的旁边：「没有选择刻意忘记你，是我认为自己做得最正确的一件事」
无痛，岂不很无趣。
时隔多年再看，却不再认同里面的爱情观点。两个人在一起纵使拥有再多再多的甜蜜回忆，也抵不过理性分开时发现的那些不可调和的矛盾。也许你又一次会爱上这个人，但是这个人依然是不对的人，就算躺着一起看星星，也只是无意义的重复。
有多少人知道这片儿其实叫“暧暧内含光”，暧昧的暧，语出东汉崔瑗诗《座右铭》在涅贵不缁，暧暧内含光。意谓“表面暗淡不明，而内在蕴含光芒”，切合电影主题，一直觉得大陆的电影译名实在比港台好——太——多！
完全成熟而冷靜的編劇。大家都是來看編劇的吧？