少年派的奇幻漂流 Chapter 7

Chapter 7

It was my luck to have a few good teachers in my youth, men and women who came into my dark head and lit a match. One of these was Mr. Satish Kumar, my biology teacher at Petit Seminaire and an active Communist who was always hoping Tamil Nadu would stop electing movie stars and go the way of Kerala. He had a most peculiar appearance. The top of his head was bald and pointy, yet he had the most impressive jowls I have ever seen, and his narrow shoulders gave way to a massive stomach that looked like the base of a mountain, except that the mountain stood in thin air, for it stopped abruptly and disappeared horizontally into his pants. It's a mystery to me how his stick-like legs supported the weight above them, but they did, though they moved in surprising ways at times, as if his knees could bend in any direction. His construction was geometric: he looked like two triangles, a small one and a larger one, balanced on two parallel lines. But organic, quite warty actually, and with sprigs of black hair sticking out of his ears. And friendly. His smile seemed to take up the whole base of his triangular head.

Mr. Kumar was the first avowed atheist I ever met. I discovered this not in the classroom but at the zoo. He was a regular visitor who read the labels and descriptive notices in their entirety and approved of every animal he saw. Each to him was a triumph of logic and mechanics, and nature as a whole was an exceptionally fine illustration of science. To his ears, when an animal felt the urge to mate, it said "Gregor Mendel," recalling the father of genetics, and when it was time to show its mettle, "Charles Darwin," the father of natural selection, and what we took to be bleating, grunting, hissing, snorting, roaring, growling, howling, chirping and screeching were but the thick accents of foreigners. When Mr. Kumar visited the zoo, it was to take the pulse of the universe, and his stethoscopic mind always I confirmed to him that everything was in order, that everything was order. He left the zoo feeling scientifically refreshed.

The first time I saw his triangular form teetering and tottering about the zoo, I was shy to approach him. As much as I liked him as a teacher, he was a figure of authority, and I, a subject. I was a little afraid of him. I observed him at a distance. He had just come to the rhinoceros pit. The two Indian rhinos were great attractions at the zoo because of the goats. Rhinos are social animals, and when we got Peak, a young wild male, he was showing signs of suffering from isolation and he was eating less and less. As a stopgap measure, while he searched for a female, Father thought of seeing if Peak couldn't be accustomed to living with goats. If it worked, it would save a valuable animal. If it didn't, it would only cost a few goats. It worked marvellously. Peak and the herd of goats became inseparable, even when Summit arrived. Now, when the rhinos bathed, the goats stood around the muddy pool, and when the goats ate in their corner, Peak and Summit stood next to them like guards. The living arrangement was very popular with the public.

Mr. Kumar looked up and saw me. He smiled and, one hand holding onto the railing, the other waving, signalled me to come over.

"Hello, Pi," he said.

"Hello, sir. It's good of you to come to the zoo."

"I come here all the time. One might say it's my temple. This is interesting..." He was indicating the pit. "If we had politicians like these goats and rhinos we'd have fewer problems in our country. Unfortunately we have a prime minister who has the armour plating of a rhinoceros without any of its good sense."

I didn't know much about politics. Father and Mother complained regularly about Mrs. Gandhi, but it meant little to me. She lived far away in the north, not at the zoo and not in Pondicherry. But I felt I had to say something.

"Religion will save us," I said. Since when I could remember, religion had been very close to my heart.

"Religion?" Mr. Kumar grinned broadly. "I don't believe in religion. Religion is darkness."

Darkness? I was puzzled. I thought, Darkness is the last thing that religion is. Religion is light. Was he testing me? Was he saying, "Religion is darkness," the way he sometimes said in class things like "Mammals lay eggs," to see if someone would correct him? ("Only platypuses, sir.")

"There are no grounds for going beyond a scientific explanation of reality and no sound reason for believing anything but our sense experience. A clear intellect, close attention to detail and a little scientific knowledge will expose religion as superstitious bosh. God does not exist."

Did he say that? Or am I remembering the lines of later atheists? At any rate, it was something of the sort. I had never heard such words.

"Why tolerate darkness? Everything is here and clear, if only we look carefully."

He was pointing at Peak. Now though I had great admiration for Peak, I had never thought of a rhinoceros as a light bulb.

He spoke again. "Some people say God died during the Partition in 1947. He may have died in 1971 during the war. Or he may have died yesterday here in Pondicherry in an orphanage. That's what some people say, Pi. When I was your age, I lived in bed, racked with polio. I asked myself every day, 'Where is God? Where is God? Where is God?' God never came. It wasn't God who saved me - it was medicine. Reason is my prophet and it tells me that as a watch stops, so we die. It's the end. If the watch doesn't work properly, it must be fixed here and now by us. One day we will take hold of the means of production and there will be justice on earth."

This was all a bit much for me. The tone was right-loving and brave - but the details seemed bleak. I said nothing. It wasn't for fear of angering Mr. Kumar. I was more afraid that in a few words thrown out he might destroy something that I loved. What if his words had the effect of polio on me? What a terrible disease that must be if it could kill God in a man.

He walked off, pitching and rolling in the wild sea that was the steady ground. "Don't forget the test on Tuesday. Study hard, 3.14!"

"Yes, Mr. Kumar."

He became my favourite teacher at Petit Seminaire and the reason I studied zoology at the University of Toronto. I felt a kinship with him. It was my first clue that atheists are my brothers and sisters of a different faith, and every word they speak speaks of faith. Like me, they go as far as the legs of reason will carry them - and then they leap.

I'll be honest about it. It is not atheists who get stuck in my craw, but agnostics. Doubt is useful for a while. We must all pass through the garden of Gethsemane. If Christ played with doubt, so must we. If Christ spent an anguished night in prayer, if He burst out from the Cross, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" then surely we are also permitted doubt. But we must move on. To choose doubt as a philosophy of life is akin to choosing immobility as a means of transportation.

  第七章

    我很幸运，年轻的时候遇到了儿位好老师，这些男女老师走进我黑暗的头脑，划亮了一根火柴。其中一位老师就是萨蒂什·库马尔先生，他是我在小修院的生物老 师，也是个活跃的共产主义者，总是希望泰米尔纳德能停止选举电影明星，而走喀拉拉邦的道路。他的长相十分奇特。他光秃秃的头顶是尖的，却长着我所见过的最 让人难忘的双下巴，窄窄的肩膀陡然让位于像一座山一样巨大的肚子，只是这座山是立在空中的，因为它戛然而止，垂直消失在裤子里。让我苦恼的是，他那两条细 棍子一样的腿是怎么支撑住上面的重量的，但它们撑住了，尽管有时候移动的样子令人惊奇，好像他的膝盖能向任何方向弯曲。他的身体是由几何图形构成的：他看 上去就像一大一小两个三角形放在两条平行线上。但他却是个有机体，实际上很像二个大瘤，一根根黑毛像小树枝一样从耳朵里伸出来。而且友好。

    他的微笑似乎占满了他那个三角形脑袋的底部。

    库马尔先生是我遇见的第一个公开承认自己是无神论者的人。我不是在课堂上，而是在动物园里发现这一点的。他是动物园的常客，每一张标签和标签上的描述性简 介他都读，每一只他所看见的动物他都表示赞许。对他来说，每一只动物都是逻辑学和力学昀胜利，整个大自然就是对科学的绝妙解释。在他听来，当一只动物有了 交配的欲望时，它想起遗传学之父，于是说：“格累戈尔·孟德尔’’，在显示本领时说的是自然选择之父“查尔斯·达尔文”，而我们以为的咩咩声、咕噜声、嘶 嘶声、鼓鼻声、咆哮声、吼叫声、号叫声、唧唧声和尖叫声仅仅是外国人的浓重口音。

    库马尔先生参观动物园是为了把握宇宙的脉搏，他那听诊器般的大脑总是向他证实，一切都井然有序，一切就是秩序。他离开动物园时感到科学精神振奋。

    第一次看见他的三角形身体在动物园里摇摇晃晃、步履蹒跚地走来走去时，我很害羞，不敢靠近他。尽管我喜欢他这位老师，但他毕竟是拥有权力的人物，而我，是 个臣民。我有点儿怕他。我在离他有一段距离的地方看着他。他刚刚来到犀牛栏前。因为那几只山羊，这两头印度犀牛在动物园非常引人注目。犀牛是群居动物，当 年幼的野生雄性犀牛皮克来的时候，他表现出正在经受孤独的折磨的迹象，吃得越来越少。作为权宜之计，在寻找雌性犀牛的同时，父亲想看看皮克是否能够习惯和 山羊一起生活。如果这能行，就能拯救一只珍稀动物。如果不行，那只是牺牲几只山羊而已。这个做法获得了极大成功。皮克和那群山羊变得难舍难分，甚至萨咪特 来后也是如此。现在，犀牛洗澡时，山羊就围成一圈站在泥潭旁边，当山羊在角落进食时，皮克和萨咪特就像卫兵一样站在它们旁边。这样的生活安排很受游客欢 迎。

    库马尔先生抬起头来，看见了我。他微微一笑，一只手抓着栏杆，另一只手挥了挥，示意我过去。

    “你好，派。"他说。

    “你好，先生。你能到动物园来真好。’？‘

    “我常来。可以说这是我的庙宇。这很有意思……”他指着兽栏。“如果我们的政治家们也像这些山羊和犀牛一样，我们的国家就不会有那么多问题了。不幸的是，我们的首相有着犀牛的铠甲，却没有它的见识。”

    我对政治了解得不多。父亲和母亲经常抱怨甘地夫人，但这对我几乎毫无意义。她住在遥远的北方，不在动物园里也不在本地治里。但我感到自己应该说点儿什么。

    “宗教会拯救我们的。"我说。从我记事时起，宗教就一直与我的心十分贴近。

    “宗教？”库马尔先生咧大了嘴笑起来。“我不相信宗教。宗教是黑暗。’’

    黑暗？我糊涂了。我想，宗教绝不可能是黑暗。宗教是光明。他是在考验我吗？他说“宗教是黑暗”，是不是像他有时候在课堂上说诸如“哺乳动物都会下蛋”之类的话，看看有没有人会纠正他？（“只有鸭嘴兽，先生。"）

    “对现实做科学以外的其他解释是毫无根据的，相信我们感觉经验以外的任何事物是没有正当理由的。清晰的思维，对细节的密切关注，再加上一点点科学知识，就可以让我们清楚地看到，宗教是迷信的瞎扯。上帝并不存在。”

    他是那么说的吗？还是我记得的是后来的无神论者的话？不管怎样，是诸如此类的话。我从来没有听到过这样的话。

    “为什么要忍受黑暗呢？只要我们注意看，就会看到一切就在这儿，如此地清晰。’’

    他正指着皮克。虽然我非常欣赏皮克，但从来没有把一头犀牛想成是一只电灯泡。

    他又说话了。“有人说上帝在1947年瓜分期间死了。他可能在1971年战争期间死了。或者也许他昨天在本地治里一家孤儿院里死了。有些人就是那么说的， 派。我像你这么大酌时候，整天躺在床上，遭受着小儿麻痹症的折磨。每天我都问自己："上帝在哪里？上帝在哪里‘？上帝在哪里？"上帝一直没有来。救我的不 是上帝？而是医药。理性是我的先知，它告诉我就像手表会停一样，我们也会死。生命结束了。如果表走得不准，我们必须修理它，就在这儿，就在现在一总有一天 我们会控制生产方式，地球上就会有公平了。”

    这番话让我有点儿受不了。语调是对的——深情而勇敢——但是细节似乎冷酷严峻。我什么也没说。并不是害怕触怒库马尔先生。

    我更害怕他随口说的几句话可能会毁掉我热爱的某样东西。要是他的话对我产生的效果就像小儿麻痹症一样怎么办？那一定是一种非常可怕的疾病，如果它能杀死一个人心中的上帝。

    他走开了，跌跌撞撞，摇摇晃晃，平稳的地面在他脚下仿佛成了汹涌的大海。“不要忘了星期二的考试。好好用功吧，三点一四！”

    “是，库马尔先生。”

    他成了我在小修院最喜欢的老师和我在多伦多大学学习动物学的原因。我感到和他有一种亲缘关系。我第一次知道了无神论者也是我的兄弟姐妹，他们有着不同的信仰，他们所说的每一个字都说明了自己的信仰。像我一样，理性引导他们走多远他们便走多远——然后便跳跃起来。

    老实说，让我生气的不是无神论者，而是不可知论者。有一段时间怀疑是有用的。我们都必须经过客西马尼花园。（<圣经>中耶稣蒙难的地方。）如 果耶稣心存怀疑，那么我们一定也是如此。如果耶稣整整一夜都在痛苦地祈祷，如果他在十字架上大声叫喊：“我的上帝，我的上帝，你为什么抛弃了我？”那么我 们青定也可以怀疑。但是我们必须继续向前。选择怀疑作为生活哲学就像选择静止作为交通方式。