客途秋恨

片子看了二分之一的时候，我脑海中出现的一直是：祖国啊祖国，多么令人魂牵梦萦，但是看完这部电影，我想那个说不出道不明的感觉，更应该是“故乡”是一种乡愁。众所周知，1990年，澳门和香港还没有回归祖国，但是隔过20多年的岁月再去看，我更愿意将他定义为一种乡愁。
电影的一开始，是年轻的张曼玉在英国的青春飞扬，一张火红的喜帖将下一个镜头切回香港。晓恩走进家中那讪讪的神情和母亲不愠不火的迎接，就已经看出这对母女之间存在着问题。许鞍华仅用几个镜头就说明了一切，一个镜头是婚礼前母女三人去做头发，母亲说，谁谁谁家女儿出嫁，母女烫了一样的头发，一看就是一家人。然后，她又黯然的接到，就算烫了一样的发型，你也不当我是一家人。另一个是晓惠出嫁的前晚，母亲拿出珍藏的项链送给她，并且答应等大女儿结婚的时候再买一条。晓恩很漠然的回答道，也许回了英国就不再回来了呢。晓惠嫁人离开香港，当晚妈妈和晓恩发生了激烈的冲突，她说她要回日本。这个时候，我们才知道，这位香港气十足的母亲竟然是日本人。
电影的节奏一直很缓慢，没有明显的高潮，但是从晓恩和母亲回到日本之后，很多悬而未决的误会都慢慢有了缓和的松动。晓恩看着母亲和舅舅交流母亲和从前的朋友聊天玩乐却一句话也听不懂。在妈妈离开的清晨，晓恩和舅母因为语言不通，互相不理解弄出了很多不愉快。晓恩骑着单车出去遛弯，结果迷路了。她回来陪着舅舅和妈妈去赴和小舅舅的约会，结果妈妈不见了。晓恩在街头寻找妈妈，站在日本的街头，张曼玉的眼中都是惶恐和不安。想象一下，在一个你一个人也不认识一句话也听不懂的地方，站在傍晚的街头，看着热闹却完全不知所为的陌生节庆形式，你是一种什么心情。晓恩慢慢的理解了二十多年前的母亲。
看过一本书，写的是日本战败前那些去“满洲”的日本人，在战败后，回到日本或者没有回到日本的一些人的生活。于是在电影中很仔细的注意了葵子大哥的表现。他毫无疑问，是当年去“满洲”讨生活的普通日本人中的一位，但是电影没有过多的表现他们的寻根心理，唯一有点牵连的是，这位舅舅藏了一辈子当年葵子的丈夫送给他的酒，在做出卖掉祖屋的晚上，和晓恩喝了这瓶一直珍藏想要和自己的小舅子喝的酒。电影的背景是宏大而且复杂的，从40年代一直到70年代，有多少人丢掉了故乡，又有多少人找到故乡却圆满不了自己的乡愁呢？
葵子是回来了，回到了她魂牵梦萦的故乡。然而，到了故乡的她，却也终于失去了故乡。从前，她总归还是有个可以思念可以追忆的地方，然而，祖屋被卖掉了，她不在习惯那些生冷的食物，甚至，她说起中文来更为流畅，最终，他乡为故乡，故乡，只变成了一种可望不可及的乡愁。同样的，是晓恩的祖父母。不管怎么样的阻碍，他们最终还是回到了广州的老家，就因这一份乡愁，他们也抛下了最最疼爱的外孙女。即便是生活再怎么困顿和艰难，却还是要和赶来看望他们的晓恩说，不要对中国失望。
祖国情怀，有的时候可以简单的归结为乡愁，但是，历史风云变幻，不过二十年，我们就在不可以将乡愁和祖国情怀混为一谈了。所以，这怅惘的情怀也只能说是一种乡愁。独在异乡为异客，多年后，他乡为故乡，故乡成为一种乌托邦的寄托。在那个纷乱的年代里，多少人找不到故乡，多少人认他乡做故乡。在时代的车轮里，那微小的个人情怀又算得了什么呢？电影的结束，张曼玉为自己的爷爷拍打着扇子，阻止不了眼泪的泛滥。秋天是一个伤感的季节，乡愁是最适合在秋天感怀的。她只是惆怅岁月的老去，可是谁说，她不是在忧伤那说不出口永远也缠绵不绝的乡愁呢？

Song of the Exile reveals its veil with an extreme close-up of a bicycle wheel, accompanied by Hueyin’s sentimental narrations. Hueyin, the narrator and one of the protagonists, isa Sino-Japanese (ethnically) studying in London. Aiko, Hueyin’s mother, is a Japanese who has been living in Macau and Hong Kong since the end of the Second World War.Hueyin’s grandparents, in reliance of their illusionary imagination on Mainland China, choose to settle down in Guangzhou in the shadow of Cultural Revolution. Seemingly all the main characters in Song of the Exile are in displacement from motherlands and resettlement in host lands (Yue). This essay will analyze the displacement and its reconstruction of identity in the context of Song of the Exile.

As to Hueyin, a subtle implication on her contradicted ethnicity and nationality arises when she is typing another resume after she receives the rejection letter from BBC. The heading of her resume indicates that she was born in Hong Kong (“Place of Birth: Hong Kong”) but she is a British (“Nationality: British”). The scene not only epitomizes the colonial history of Hong Kong, but also portrays the discrimination Hueyin encounters as an ethnical Chinese. She should have been treated equally as her local friends on application to BBC in terms of nationality. Yet more often she is isolated in the pub and unintentionally alienated when her friend mentioned about using chopsticks, which symbolizes a classical imagination of orientalism. All these subtle fragments pile up, Hueyin gradually realizes that although she lives in London and speaks fluent English, she still belongs elsewhere. She is indeed “an exile in a foreign land” (Erens).

That’s probably why Hueyin erases her resume and instead types a farewell letter to her friends in London. The opening scenes depicting the landscapes and culture heritages of London, especially appealing to most people in Hong Kong at 1990s after the demonstrations on Tiananmen Square. The image of London is somehow embellished in the diffusing suspicion of returning to socialistic China. In terms of Hong Kong, the model of One Country Two Systems “includes Hong Kong as a part of China but excludes it from legal structure” (Yue) and economic coordination. All those British culture and heritages left in Hong Kong cannot be simply replaced like the replacement in nationality derived from the handover, not to mention the reconstruction of recognition of Chinese identity. It seems that Hong Kong itself, like Hueyin, also lives here but belongs elsewhere.

The same displacement occurred to Aiko,Hueyin’smother, who has been living in Macau and Hong Kong for most of her life. She tells her older brother how difficult her life is in a “foreign country” upon reaching her hometown in Japan. As a Japanese living in Macau and Hong Kong after the Sino-Japanese War, Aiko was prejudiced and even despised by Hueyin’s grandparents and neighbors. She speaks Japanese. She is more in favor of Japanese cuisine. She always reminds herself and Hueyin of the reputation and wealth of her family in Japan, which constitutes an explicit contrast to her floundering life in Hong Kong and Macau, trying to adapt to local lifestyle. When returning to Japan, she picks up her mother tongue, her Japanese name and all other Japanese ritual habits, thus reaffirming her identity as Japanese. She seems to be no longer the “otherness” but one of “the same” with similar social practices and collective acknowledgement of identity.

However, the authenticity of favorite food, the familiarity of language and the comfort of coming back home do not last for long. When Aiko deliberately shows off her well-educated daughter studying in London to her relatives in an attempt to create a “glorious return”, her relatives respond in indifference and ethno-centrality. The Japanese food she used to favor feels cold and tasteless. She even complains about the traditional hot baths for their impracticality and inconvenience. Those yeas living in Macau and Hong Kong unselfconsciously alter he cultural identity. “The years of acculturation in Hong Kong have changed her attitude towards the homeland” (Yue). For Aiko, the journey to Japan is supposed to be a resume of her original identity, but it turned out to be a reminder of her new cultural intimacy towards Hong Kong created by her life of displacement.

At the end of Song of the Exile, Hueyin’s grandfather, who is severely beaten by the Red Guards in Cultural Revolution claiming to topplebourgeoisie, mentions about sending the book of Song Poetry to Hueyin in case she forgets the profound traditional Chinese culture. His reference to this particular period of divine Song Dynasty infers “the national sentiments of modernity, exile and reunification” (Yue) in the horrific shadow of Cultural Revolution. The poverty, brutality, and disorder in Guangzhou smash Hueyin’s grandparents’ fantastic illusion on homeland when they are in Macau. The distance from home procures an ideal to restore the original identity. Yet Hueyin’s grandparents have already become the “otherness” when they return. Only marginalization and hostility towards the Kuomintang’s nationalism embrace them.

In Song of the Exile, the elements and implications of displacement and resettlement constantly affirm and reshape the characters’ recognition of their own ethnic and cultural identities. As for Hong Kong, 15 years has passed by since the handover, seemingly it still belongs elsewhere. In a time of globalization, borders and boundaries may be easily blurred out and they are no longer obstacles for commerce and communications. However, frequent communication does not directly lead to mutual understanding between Mainland and Hong Kong. Conflicts may also arise. The recognition and reconstruction of Chines identity are far more difficult than the reconciliation between mother and daughter in Song of the Exile. As for Hong Kong cinema,local contents (food, language, cultural heritage) in Song of the exile seem to be “a nationalistic response to globalization” (Teo). Nonetheless, maintaining and distilling local features in the pressure of globalization“would not have been and still is not easy” (Yue) in 21st century.

昨晚看许鞍华的《客途秋恨》。录像带的画质，模糊，我记错了，认为是80年代初的片子，后来查资料知道是1990年的，难怪，张曼玉已不是花瓶的举止。

一路看来，知道是许鞍华的自传，分外凄凉——什么事情知道是真的，就在道德上倾斜了。当年看《胭脂扣》，片尾如花还给十二少胭脂扣，毅然决绝，我唏嘘不已，两个演员也是魂归天国，谁信一语成谶，把命运当绝句来做，精彩，也短小，亦发没有余地了。

许鞍华在忆旧梦。回忆幼时与祖父母在澳门的生活，似在梦境，老街老巷，黄昏的阳光，黑黢黢的楼梯吱吱呀呀，祖母打牌、买点心给孙女吃，扇子摇摇。母亲永远绷着脸，紧张又倔强。不算新鲜的题目，因为人情温婉，是旧时的经历，有份真诚和理直气壮，会撬起哪根怀旧的神经，由衷的理解。想我小时候在祖父母家，上学前班由二老接送。祖母带着我和堂妹去核桃园市场买菜，会切一方蘸着芝麻的热油饼做点心，水萝卜下来时节就着烧饼在小院子里边吃边看天。那时候祖母是权威，连天冷时能不能去院子玩儿都要她批准。现在我在家时中午送她去打牌，晚上睡觉前要给她按摩腿（老太太关节炎），我又成了她的权威。那日去祖父母的旧居徘徊一阵儿，还是熟悉，马上在里面住也不惊愕。

片中的母亲葵子（陆小芬饰）是日本人，嫁给了中国军官，言语不通，又无容禀，自不受公婆待见，丈夫外地工作，寂寞凄苦。在他乡的人未必皆苦，苦的是要彻底放弃原来的生活，去融入新的，还要被承认和接纳。语言不通是最大的问题。你不知道对方在讲什么，可以沟通，如果对方是一个群体，一个国家，本能就有敌意。我看葵子回到日本，不是舒一口气，而是尴尬。即便踏上故土，看着站牌忘情的用日语说出地名，故土也生疏了。看她马不停蹄会旧友泡温泉，是想找回故乡的感觉。可怜被新生活改造的狠了，磨灭掉身体的记号，日本料理榻榻米可以激活本能，但本能只是本能，比本能更高级的不再为日本元素所左右，是被迫接受的他乡的教化。更难受的是亲情在岁月外的纠缠，她想寻回失落的温暖，可是应该想到她当年留在中国就必须有牺牲它的准备。唯一的安慰是看着旧友老去自己有在英国读书的女儿？不是，眼泪出卖了她，若重新来过，她宁愿选择和那帮旧友一样平庸的生活，做平庸的妇人，不必把自己交给历史的大背景安排，那样太残忍。她不会在日本终老，即使那栋房子不卖，因为她不再适应日本了，所有要留下的理由不成立，泡温泉时对女儿说“日本菜生生冷冷，没味道，还是广东菜好，真想煲汤”，教化成功了。代价太惨重，在哪儿都是羁旅，紧张兮兮小心翼翼。这种教化像缠足，经历了一番苦痛，一世行动不便。

小恩对母亲的叛逆是母亲压抑的爆发在女儿这一代的投射。一个在接受教化的人没有资格去教化自己的女儿——女儿不必经历这份再教化的曲折，比母亲理直气壮的享受生活。母女的心结难打开，旁人无意的对母女说“你可不像你母亲”或“你女儿可不像你”，真的不像？母亲当年能够抛弃家庭随丈夫来中国，这种决然和女儿头也不回的离开家庭寄宿学校何等相似。许多上一代和下一代关于成长的矛盾与心结，不是因为父母和子女不像，是因为太像，不像是指生活时代变迁的表象，但骨子里的优缺点继承的很完美。想起赖声川《红色的天空》里老李和儿子养老院吵架的一场戏，儿子对父亲的指责大吼：“我就是因为太像你！我越来越发现我根本就是你！”一家三口都在垂泪，舞台无声。女儿在日本也是言语不通，一人独自出门，迷了路，摘了有农药的果子充饥被主人喝止追赶，最终在村民的帮助下找到了通晓英语的教师，解了围。女儿的这番遭遇是母亲在中国的缩影。她理解了母亲。当母亲不被小舅父原谅并在初恋情人的酒馆买醉时，母女抱头痛哭，是惨然波折后的相认。
小恩回广州看望中风的祖父。那里还是文革时代。望着年迈的祖父母，熟悉又陌生，看着熟睡的祖父，她想“这样苍老的肚子，恐怕再也承受不了这个孙女的重量吧”。我看到这里像针扎一样，想起一次和哥哥在祖母家中翻出旧时的照片，看见许多祖父的，2003年左右和朋友的照片，已是老态龙钟的样子，强打精神。我对哥哥叹道：“那时候就显老了。”都没说话。祖父2005年逝世。头一次身边亲近的人去世，接受不了。老是做梦。不相信。现在谈到祖父很平常，无伤心之意，偶尔独自一人念及前事，只暗暗神伤而已。片尾晓瑜望向窗外的广州，响起了南音《客途秋恨》，“凉风有信，秋月无边……”

迁徙了很多次的人，哪儿都是羁旅，停不下脚。未被荒疏的记忆成了旧梦，对葵子来说，故乡是旧梦，对小恩说，祖父母的家里是旧梦。旧梦再好，也回不去了，羁旅是宿命。

画质模糊，片尾的字幕统统看不清。看片头字幕知道编剧是吴念真，总顾问是胡金铨。看在日本远山乡村的清幽淡雅，有胡金铨的风格。许鞍华的镜头是急促拥挤。胡金铨也是一生漂泊未曾有家。拍这个故事，可能有感触。

《客途秋恨》。刚看完。听到爷爷那句相信中国会好的。泪流满面。为何会泪流。相信每个国人回看中国的历史。不说仁人志士，就说普通人。都希望自己的国家能尽快好起来。如此盼望了一百年。又付出多少血泪。
主人公的爷爷一代。战乱从广州逃到澳门，六十年代从又回到广州。为新中国服务。就算生活艰难，也算是回家。没有客死异乡。
主人公母亲是日本人。在中国生活了三十多年。朝思暮想回家。一朝回日本，却发现已不适应。
主人公留学英国，毕业后想留在英国，不再回香港。
香港曾是三代人的客居地。爷爷奶奶归去，父亲去世。而母女却最终把客居地当做归地。以个人体验托出集体记忆，所以说这部关于个人自传的影片，能获得许多人共鸣，千万港人的心态不是如此吗。
大陆已人事物非，不能折返。英国也不再是宗主。港岛犹如一巨轮。搭载过许多离乡之人。遥望大陆，无论是西洋，东洋，还是故土。故乡是回不去了。而香港才是唯一的归地。从不接受到接受。
乡愁是消不去的。爷爷听说她进电视台工作，就想寄一本宋词给她。无非是不要忘了故土。结尾唱出秋风有信的昆曲。乡愁四韵。
女性导演从母女情出发却带出这么大的气魄。这也是个人体验的严肃力量。不要轻视自己的个人体验，无论民族历史等等都由此出发。有其神圣性。