我一直设法使你处于原始的坏境,置身一座荒无人烟的孤岛,来向你解释文学,在那种境遇里你会目睹想象以最直接、最简单的方式驰骋。现在让我们从自己所处的社会谈起吧,倘若那儿真有文学滋生,就瞧瞧其滋生之地。假设你正走在加拿大某个城市的一条街上,无论是布洛街、格兰威尔、圣凯萨琳或者波特基大道,你周围便是一个高度矫揉造作的社会,可你不认为它矫揉造作:你已对它完全习以为常,反觉得它自然顺眼。然而,假设你的想象对你稍微玩点戏法,像通常的情形,你会突然感到自己成了一个十足的局外人,像乘着飞碟骤然从火星抵达地面。你立即 I’ve been trying to put you in a primeval situation, in an uninhabited island, to explain to you literature, in which situation you can see the imagination galloping in the most direct and easiest way. Let us now start with the society in which we live, and if there is literary breeding there, look at the place where it was born. Suppose you are walking down a street in one of Canada’s cities, whether it’s Buhoe Street, Granville, St. Catherine, or Portage Boulevard, a highly artificial community around you, but you do not think it Artificial creation: you have completely accustomed to it, anti-feel it natural pleasing to the eye. However, suppose your imagination is a bit trickier to you, and as usual, you suddenly feel like a full-fledged outsider, like a sudden flight from Mars to the ground. You immediately