“我每次一想到这个就很生气。”
“在批评这个假设时，许多生态哲学寥注意到印度等其他文化的观念与思想。他们并且研究了所谓‘原始民族’或美洲印第安人和爱斯基摩人(现已改称因纽特人——编者注)等‘原住民’的想法与习俗，以重新探索我们所失落的东西。”
“然后呢?”
“近年来科学界有二种说法是：我们整个科学思想的模式正面临一个‘典范移转’(paradigmshift)，意思就是说科学家思考的方式有了一个根本上的转变，而且这个现象已经在若干领域内开花结果。我们可以看到许多所谓‘新生活运动’(alternativemove—ments)倡导整体主义(holism)和新的生活方式。”
“太好了。”
“不过，当一件事情牵涉到许多人时，我们必须要学会分辨好坏优劣。有些人宣称我们正进入一个‘新时代’，但并不是每一件新的东西都是好的。我们也不能把所有旧东西都抛弃。这是我为什么让你上这门哲学课的原因之一。你现在已经知道了古往今来的哲学理念了。接下来你应该能够为自己的人生找到一个方向。”
“非常谢谢你。”
“我想你会发现那些打着‘新时代’旗号的运动有一大部分都是骗人的玩意。这几十年来西方世界甚至受到所谓的‘新宗教’、‘新神秘主义’和各式各样现代迷信的影响。这些东西已经变成一种企业了。由于信奉基督教的人日益减少，哲学市场上就出现了许许多多的替代产品。”
“什么样的替代产品?”
“多得不胜枚举。无论如何，要描述我们本身所在的这个时代并不容易。现在我们可不可以到镇上去散散步?我想让你看一个东西。”苏菲耸耸肩。
“我没有多少时间了。你没有忘记明天的花园宴会吧?”
“当然没有。那个时候会发生一件很奇妙的事。不过我们先得让席德的哲学课程有一个圆满的结束。少校还没有想到那儿，你明白吗?因此他已经不再能够完全控制我们了。”
他再次举起现在已经空了的可乐瓶，往桌上“砰!”一声用力一敲。
他们走到街上，人们正像蚂蚁窝里精力充沛的蚂蚁一样熙来攘往。苏菲心想艾伯特不知道要让她看什么东西。他们经过一家很大的商店，里面贩卖各式各样的通讯器材，从电视、录影机、小耳朵到各种行动电话、电脑和传真机都有。
艾伯特指着橱窗里的东西说：“这就是二十世纪了。在文艺复兴时代，世界开始膨胀。自从那些伟大的探险航程展开后，欧洲人就开始走遍世界各地。今天情形正好相反。我们称之为反膨胀。”
“怎么说呢?”
“意思是说世界正逐渐凝聚成一个庞大的通讯网络。在不算很久以前，哲学家们还必须坐好几天的马车才能到其他的地方去探索这个世界，并会见其他的哲学家。今天我们不论在地球任何一个角落都可以透过电脑荧屏获得人类所有的经验。”
“想起来真是棒极了，甚至让人有点怕怕的，真的。”
“问题在于历史是否即将结束，或者刚好相反，我们正要迈入一个崭新的时代。我们已经不再只是一个城市的居民或某个国家的公民了。我们是生活在全球文明里的世界公民。”
“真的。”
“过去三四十年来，科技的发展，尤其是在通讯方面的进步，可能大过历史上各时期的总和。而目前我们所见到的可能只是开始而已…．．．”
“这就是你要让我看的东西吗?”
“不，那个东西在那边那座教堂的另外一边。”他们转身要走时，一架电视的荧屏上闪过了一幅几个联合国士兵的画面。
“你看广苏菲说。摄影机的镜头淡入，停在其中一个士兵的身上。他有一脸几乎和艾伯特一模一样的黑胡子。突然间他举起一块牌子，上面写着：“席德，我就快回来了!”他挥一挥另外一只手，然后就消失了。
“唉，真是个江湖郎中！”艾伯特叹道。
“那是少校吗?”，“我可不想回答这个问题。”他们穿过教堂前面的公园，走到另外一条大街上。艾伯特似乎有点烦躁。他们在一家名叫里伯瑞斯(Libris)的大型书店前停下来。这是镇上最大的一家书店。
“你是不是要让我看里面的某个东西?”
超自然“我们进去吧。”在书店里，艾伯特指着最长的那面书墙，其中的书分成三类，包括：“新时代”、“新生活”和“神秘主义”。这些书都有着很吸引人的标题，如：《死后的生命?》、《招魂术的秘密》、《意大利纸牌算命术》、《幽浮现象》、《治疗术》、《上帝重临》、《你曾来过这里》、《占星术是什么?》等等，一共有成千上百本。书架的下面并堆着一叠叠类似的书。
“这也是二十世纪的现象。这是我们这个时代的神庙。”
“这些东西你都不相信吗?”
“其中有一大部分是鬼话。但他们的销路和色情刊物一样好，事实上它们有许多可以算得上是一种色情刊物。年轻人可以来到这儿，购买他们认为最有趣的思想。但这些书和真正的哲学之间的差异就像色情和真爱之间的差异一样。”
“你这样说不是太粗鲁了吗?”
“我们到公园里去坐吧！”他们走出书店，在教堂前找了一张没有A坐的长椅。旁边树底下成群的鸽子正摇头摆尾地走来走去，一只孤零零的麻雀在他们中间过度热心地跳来跳去。
“那些东西叫做ESP或灵学超心理学，”他开始说。“或者也叫做精神感应术、超感应能力、灵视和心理动力学，有些也叫做招魂术、占星术和幽浮学。”
“老实说，你真的认为它们都是骗人的玩意吗?”
“当然一个真正的哲学家不应该说它们都不好。但我可以说所有这些学问加起来就像一张地图一样，虽然巨细靡遗，但问题是那块土地可能根本并不存在，而且其中有许多是‘想象的虚构物’。要是休姆的话，早就一把火把它们给烧了。那些书里面，有许多根本没有包含一丝一毫的真实经验。”
“那为什么会出现这么多这类的书呢?”
“这是全世界最大规模的营利企业，因为那就是大多数人想要的东西。”
“那你认为他们为什么想要这些呢?”
“他们显然是希望有一些‘神秘的’、‘不一样’的东西来打破日常生活的烦闷与单调。可是这简直是多此一举！”
“怎么说呢?”
“囚为我们已经置身在一场奇妙的探险旅程里。青天白日之下，在我们的眼前就有一件伟大的创作品。这不是很美妙吗?”
“我想是吧。”
“我们为什么还要跑到占卜术士的帐篷或从学院派的后门去找寻一些‘刺激’或‘超自然’东西呢?”
“你是说写这类书的人都是些江湖术士或骗子吗?”
“不，我并没有这样说。可是这当中也有一个达尔文系统。”
“请你解释一下好吗?”
“请你想想看一天里面能够发生多少事。你甚至可以挑选你生命中的一天，然后想一想那天里你所看到和经验到的一切事物。”
“然后呢?”
“有时你会碰到一些奇异的巧合。你可能会跑进一家店里，买了一个价值二十八块钱的东西。后来，在同一天，乔安又跑来还她欠你的二十八块钱。然后你们两个决定要去看电影，结果你的座位号码是二十八号。”
“嗯，这的确是一个很神秘的巧合。”
“不管怎样，这些事就是一种巧合。问题在于有些人就会搜集这类巧合，还有各种奇异的、无法解释的经验。当这类取自数十亿人生活中的经验被集结成书时，看起来就像是真实的数据。而它们的数量会愈来愈庞大。不过这也像是一场摸彩，只有中奖的号码才会被公布出来。”
“可是世上确实有天眼通和灵媒这些人，不是吗?他们不断地有这类经验呀。”
“确实是有。但撇开那些招摇撞骗的人不谈，我们仍然可以为这些所谓的神秘经验找到另外一种解释。”
“什么解释?”
“你还记得我们谈过佛洛伊德所说的潜意识理论吗?”
“当然记得啦。我不是一再告诉你我的记性很好吗?”
“佛洛伊德曾说我们可能时常是自己潜意识的‘灵媒’。我们可能会突然发现自己正在想着或做着某件事，连自己也不太明白原因。这是因为我们内心中有许多连自己也没有察觉的经验、想法或记忆。”
“所以说呢?”
“你知道有些人会梦游或说梦话，我们可以称之为一种‘精神上的无意识行动’。除此之外，人们在经过催眠之后，也可能会‘不由自主’地说一些话或做一些事。你也许还记得那些超现实主义者曾经试图要制造所谓的自动写作。事实上他们只是试图要做自己潜意识的灵媒罢了。”
“嗯，这个我也记得。”
“本世纪不时流行我们所称的‘通灵’现象。有些人相信灵媒可以和已逝者接触。这些灵媒或者用死者的声音来说话，或者透过自动写作，借此接收几百年前某个古人的信息。有人认为这种现象证明人死后会进入另外一个世界，或者世间确实有轮回。”
“嗯，我知道。”
“我的意思并不是说所有的灵媒都是江湖术士。他们有些确实不是骗人的。他们确实当过灵媒，但他们所当的只是自己潜意识的灵媒罢了。曾经有过好几个这样的例子：有人仔细观察一些灵媒在恍惚状态的反应，发现他们居然会显示出一些无论是他们自己或别人都不知道他们如何获得的知识或能力。在其中一个案例里，一个从来没有学过希伯来文的女人突然以希伯来文说出一些事情。
因此她必定是在前世学的，要不就是她曾经和某个死者的灵魂沟通。”
“你相信哪一种说法呢?”
“结果后来发现她小时候有一个奶妈是犹太人。”
“啊！”
“你很失望吗?这个现象显示有些人具有不可思议的能力，可以把从前的经验储存在他们的潜意识里。”
“我懂你的意思了。”
“有许多日常生活中不可思议的事件都可以用佛洛伊德的潜意识理论来解释。也许有一天我正要找一个多年没有联络的朋友的电话时，却刚好接到他打来的电话。”
“满诡异的。”
“可是事实上也许是我们两个同时听到收音机里播的一首老歌，而这首歌刚好是我们两个上一次见面时听到的。重要的是，我们都没有察觉到其中的关联。”
“所以这些事情要不就是道听途说，要不就是因为特别奇怪才众口相传，要不就是潜意识的作用，对吗?”。
“不管怎样，在进到这类书店时抱持相当的怀疑态度总是比较健康的，特别是对一个哲学家而言。英国有一个由怀疑论者组成的协会。许多年前他们重金悬赏第一个能够对那些超自然现象提供一点点证明的人。他们并不要求参加者展示什么奇迹，而只要他们表演一点点心电感应就可以了。但是到目前为止，没有一个人来参加。”
“嗯。”
“话说回来，有很多现象仍然是我们人类无法理解的。也许我们还不是真正了解自然的法则。在上一个世纪，许多人认为磁力与电力的现象是一种魔术。我敢打赌我的曾祖母如果听到我说关于电视和电脑的事，一定会惊讶得目瞪口呆。”
“这么说你并不相信所有超自然的现象哼?”
“我们已经谈过这点了。就连‘超自然’这个名词听起来也很奇怪。不，我相信世上只有一个自然。但从另外一方面来说，这也是很令人惊异的事。”
“可是你让我看的那些书里面记载了那么多神秘的事情……”
“所有真正的哲学家都应该睁大眼睛。即使我们从来没有见过白色的乌鸦，我们也不应该放弃寻找它。也许有一天，连我这样的怀疑论者也会不得不接受某种我从前并不相信的现象。如果我不承认有这种可能性，那我就是一个武断的人，而不是一个真正的哲学家。”艾伯特和苏菲继续坐在长椅上，两人都没有说话。那些鸽子伸长了脖子咕咕的叫着，不时被一辆路过的脚踏车或突然的动作吓着。
“我必须回家打点宴会的事了。”最后苏菲说。
“可是在我们分手以前，我要给你看一只白色的乌鸦。它比我们所想象的更接近我们。”他从长椅上站起来，示意苏菲再回到书店里去。
这次他们走过所有关于超自然现象的书，停在书店最里面一个看起来不甚牢固的架子前。架子的上方挂着一块很小的牌子，上面写着：哲学类。艾伯特指着架上的一本书。苏菲看到书名时不禁吓了一跳。上面写着：苏菲的世界。
“你要不要我买一本送给你?”
“我不太敢看耶！”
无论如何，过了没多久，她就走在回家的路上了，一手拿着那本书，另一手则拿着一个小袋子，里面装着她刚才买的花园宴会用品。
The Garden Party
... a white crow
Hilde sat on the bed, transfixed. She felt her arms and her hands tremble, as they gripped the heavy ring binder.
It was almost eleven o'clock. She had been reading for over two hours. From time to time she had raised her eyes from the text and laughed aloud, but she had also turned over on her side and gasped. It was a good thing she was alone in the house.
And what she had been through these last two hours! It started with Sophie trying to attract the major's attention on the way home from the cabin in the woods. She had finally climbed a tree and been rescued by Morten Goose, who had arrived like a guardian angel from Lebanon.
Although it was a long, long time ago, Hilde had never forgotten how her father had read The Wonderful Adventures of Nils to her. For many years after that, she and her father had had a secret language together that was connected with the book. Now he had dragged the old goose out again.
Then Sophie had her first experience as a lone customer in a cafe. Hilde had been especially taken with what Alberto said about Sartre and existentialism. He had almost managed to convert her--although he had done that many times before in the ring binder too.
Once, about a year ago, Hilde had bought a book on astrology. Another time she had come home with a set of tarot cards. Next time it was a book on spiritualism. Each time, her father had lectured her about "superstition" and her "critical faculty," but he had waited until now for the final blow. His counterattack was deadly accurate. Clearly, his daughter would not be allowed to grow up without a thorough warning against that kind of thing. To be absolutely sure, he had waved to her from a TV screen in a radio store. He could have saved himself the trouble ...
What she wondered about most of all was Sophie. Sophie--who are you? Where do you come from? Why have you come into my life?
Finally Sophie had been given a book about herself. Was it the same book that Hilde now had in her hands? This was only a ring binder. But even so--how could one find a book about oneself in a book about oneself? What would happen if Sophie began to read that book?
What was going to happen now? What could happen now? There were only a few pages left in her ring binder.
Sophie met her mother on the bus on her way home from town. Oh, no! What would her mother say when she saw the book in Sophie's hand?
Sophie tried to put it in the bag with all the streamers and balloons she had bought for the party but she didn't quite make it.
"Hi, Sophie! We caught the same bus! How nice!"
"Hi, Mom!"
"You bought a book?"
"No, not exactly."
"Sophie's World ... how curious."
Sophie knew she didn't have the slightest chance of lying to her mother.
"I got it from Alberto."
"Yes, I'm sure you did. As I said, I'm looking forward to meeting this man. May I see?"
"Would you mind very much waiting till we get home, at least. It is my book, Mom."
"Of course it's your book. I just want to take a peek at the first page, okay? ... 'Sophie Amundsen was on her way home from school. She had walked the first part of the way with Joanna. They had been discussing robots . . .'"
"Does it really say that?"
"Yes, it does, Sophie. It's written by someone called Albert Knag. He must be a newcomer. What's your Al-berto's name, by the way?"
"Knox."
"It'll probably turn out that this extraordinary person has written a whole book about you, Sophie. It's called using a pseudonym."
"It's not him, Mom. Why don't you just give up. You don't understand anything anyway."
"No, I don't suppose I do. The garden party is tomorrow, then everything will be all right again."
"Albert Knag lives in a completely different reality. That's why this book is a white crow."
"You really must stop all this! Wasn't it a white rabbit?"
"You stop it!"
That was as far as they got before they reached their stop at the end of Clover Close. They ran straight into a demonstration.
"My God!" exclaimed Helene Amundsen, "I really thought we would be spared street politics in this neighborhood."
There were no more than about ten or twelve people. Their banners read:
THE MAJOR IS AT HAND
YES TO YUMMY MIDSUMMER EATS
MORE POWER TO THE UN
Sophie almost felt sorry for her mother.
"Never mind," she said.
"But it was a peculiar demonstration, Sophie. Quite absurd, really."
"It was a mere bagatelle."
"The world changes more and more rapidly all the time. Actually, I'm not in the least surprised."
"You should be surprised that you're not surprised, at any rate."
"Not at all. They weren't violent, were they? I just hope they haven't trampled all over our rosebeds. Surely it can't be necessary to demonstrate in a garden. Let's hurry home and see."
"It was a philosophical demonstration, Mom. Real philosophers don't trample on rosebeds."
"I'll tell you what, Sophie. I don't think I believe in real philosophers any longer. Everything is synthetic nowadays."
They spent the afternoon and evening preparing. They continued the next morning, setting and decorating the table. Joanna came over to give them a hand.
"Good grief!" she said, "Mom and Dad are coming too. It's your fault, Sophie!"
Everything was ready half an hour before the guests were due. The trees were festooned with streamers and Japanese lanterns. The garden gate, the trees lining the path, and the front of the house were hung with balloons. Sophie and Joanna had spent most of the afternoon blowing them up.
The table was set with chicken, salad, and different kinds of homemade bread. In the kitchen there were raisin buns and layer cake, Danish pastry and chocolate cake. But from the start the place of honor in the center of the table was reserved for the birthday cake--a pyramid of almond-paste rings. On the top of the cake was the tiny figure of a girl in a confirmation dress. Sophie's mother had assured her that it could just as well represent an unconfirmed fifteen-year-old, but Sophie was certain her mother had only put it there because Sophie had told her she was not sure she wanted to be confirmed. Her mother seemed to think the cake embodied the confirmation itself.
"We haven't spared any expense," she repeated several times in the half hour before the party was due to start.
The guests began to arrive. First came three of the girls from Sophie's class, dressed in summer shirts and light cardigans, long skirts, and the barest suggestion of eye makeup. A bit later, Jeremy and David came strolling in through the gate, with a blend of shyness and boyish arrogance.
"Happy birthday!"
"You're an adult now, too!"
Sophie noticed that Joanna and Jeremy had already begun eyeing each other discreetly. There was something in the air. It was Midsummer Eve.
Everybody had brought birthday presents, and as it was a philosophical garden party, several of the guests had tried to find out what philosophy was. Although not all of them had managed to find philosophical presents, most of them had written something philosophical on their cards. Sophie received a philosophical dictionary as well as a diary with a lock; on the cover was written MY PERSONAL PHILOSOPHICAL THOUGHTS. As the guests arrived they were served apple juice in long-stemmed wine glasses. Sophie's mother did the serving.
"Welcome ... And what is this young man's name? I don't believe we've met before ... So glad you could come, Cecilie . . ."
When all the younger guests had arrived and were strolling under the trees with their wine glasses, Joanna's parents drew up at the garden gate in a white Mercedes. The financial adviser was impeccably dressed in an expensively cut gray suit. His wife was wearing a red pants suit with dark red sequins. Sophie was sure she had bought a Barbie doll in a toy store dressed in that suit, and had a tailor make it up in her size. There was another possibility; the financial adviser could have bought the doll and given it to a magician to make into a live woman. But this possibility was unlikely, so Sophie rejected it.
They stepped out of the Mercedes and walked into the garden where younger guests looked at them with surprise. The financial adviser presented a long, narrow package from the Ingebrigtsen family. Sophie tried hard to maintain her composure when it turned out to be--yes, it was!--a Barbie doll. But Joanna made no such effort:
"Are you crazy? Sophie doesn't play with dolls!"
Mrs. Ingebrigtsen came hurrying over, with all her sequins clanking. "But it's only for decoration, you know."
"Well, thank you very much indeed." Sophie tried to smooth things over. "Now I can start ft collection."
People began to drift toward the table.
"We're only waiting for Alberto," said Sophie's mother to her in a somewhat brisk tone that was intended to hide her growing apprehension. Rumors of the special guest of honor had already spread among the other guests.
"He has promised to come, so he'll come."
"But we can't seat the guests before he arrives, can we?"
"Of course we can. Let's go ahead."
Helene Amundsen began to seat people around the long table. She made sure that the vacant chair was between her own and Sophie's place. She said a few words about the beautiful weather and the fact that Sophie was now a grownup.
