以前我一直都不太喜欢读余秋雨的文章。
1。老师们都很喜欢他，而这恰恰是我不喜欢他的原因。余秋雨的散文，带有中国文人特有的朦胧美，句子简单易懂，但速读一边又很难琢磨出中心思想。在O'lvl和H2 这样要求精确表达和具体描述的制度下，余秋雨的文章，真的，套一句不精确的网络用语——很不给力！
这也许就是老师出题的目的吧。他的文章需要我们静下心来慢慢品读，而在考试压力下，在最快时间内把笼统的意思转化为准确答案的人，中文水平一定是最高的。
2。还有，就是我对那些畅销书作家的偏见。我总觉得，学术是不能和金钱挂钩的。所以，真正的学术研究者也一定不是有钱人。那股铜臭味会毁了5000年历史沉淀下来的精华。又或者，我觉得能在中国大学里做教授的人都是EQ达人，而高情商不能和那种“不为五斗米折腰”的文人们有任何联系。
这是一个高中的热血青年过于理想的追求。其实，学问家的书排在畅销榜上，不比言情小说作者吃香更另人感到欣慰吗？它说明我们的社会最看中的还是学问啊。
3。过去几年，如果说我有什么后悔的地方，那就是读的书太少。小说没少读，但都是垃圾食品，真正有营养的书少过五本。静不下来的心让我无法好好扎进有深度有层次的书海里，小说读的越多越烦躁，更不能读好书，就这么恶性循环下去。
Block test又一次出现余秋雨的作品越过了我的极限。我词汇上的贫乏和表达能力的不足让我对整片文章一头雾水，可以想像老师又要摇头了。回家看到书架上已经落灰的两本（刚好又是最出名的）此作者的文集，我狠下心来，怎么也要把它读一遍。其结果就是我对以上1和2的觉悟。
4。中英文词汇的贫瘠和对语言的烂掌控力让我开始尝到苦头。我一定要好好钻研语言，不能把思想准确表达出来也是人生一大悲哀。
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Monday, June 27, 2011
George Orwell--Politics and the English Language
Most people who bother with the matter at all would admit that the English language is in a bad way, but it is generally assumed that we cannot by conscious action do anything about it. Our civilization is decadent and our language — so the argument runs — must inevitably share in the general collapse. It follows that any struggle against the abuse of language is a sentimental archaism, like preferring candles to electric light or hansom cabs to aeroplanes. Underneath this lies the half-conscious belief that language is a natural growth and not an instrument which we shape for our own purposes.
Now, it is clear that the decline of a language must ultimately have political and economic causes: it is not due simply to the bad influence of this or that individual writer. But an effect can become a cause, reinforcing the original cause and producing the same effect in an intensified form, and so on indefinitely. A man may take to drink because he feels himself to be a failure, and then fail all the more completely because he drinks. It is rather the same thing that is happening to the English language. It becomes ugly and inaccurate because our thoughts are foolish, but the slovenliness of our language makes it easier for us to have foolish thoughts. The point is that the process is reversible. Modern English, especially written English, is full of bad habits which spread by imitation and which can be avoided if one is willing to take the necessary trouble. If one gets rid of these habits one can think more clearly, and to think clearly is a necessary first step toward political regeneration: so that the fight against bad English is not frivolous and is not the exclusive concern of professional writers. I will come back to this presently, and I hope that by that time the meaning of what I have said here will have become clearer. Meanwhile, here are five specimens of the English language as it is now habitually written.
These five passages have not been picked out because they are especially bad — I could have quoted far worse if I had chosen — but because they illustrate various of the mental vices from which we now suffer. They are a little below the average, but are fairly representative examples. I number them so that I can refer back to them when necessary:
1. I am not, indeed, sure whether it is not true to say that the Milton who once seemed not unlike a seventeenth-century Shelley had not become, out of an experience ever more bitter in each year, more alien [sic] to the founder of that Jesuit sect which nothing could induce him to tolerate.
Professor Harold Laski (Essay in Freedom of Expression)
2. Above all, we cannot play ducks and drakes with a native battery of idioms which prescribes egregious collocations of vocables as the Basic put up with for tolerate, or put at a loss for bewilder.
Professor Lancelot Hogben (Interglossia)
3. On the one side we have the free personality: by definition it is not neurotic, for it has neither conflict nor dream. Its desires, such as they are, are transparent, for they are just what institutional approval keeps in the forefront of consciousness; another institutional pattern would alter their number and intensity; there is little in them that is natural, irreducible, or culturally dangerous. But on the other side, the social bond itself is nothing but the mutual reflection of these self-secure integrities. Recall the definition of love. Is not this the very picture of a small academic? Where is there a place in this hall of mirrors for either personality or fraternity?
Essay on psychology in Politics (New York)
4. All the ‘best people’ from the gentlemen's clubs, and all the frantic fascist captains, united in common hatred of Socialism and bestial horror at the rising tide of the mass revolutionary movement, have turned to acts of provocation, to foul incendiarism, to medieval legends of poisoned wells, to legalize their own destruction of proletarian organizations, and rouse the agitated petty-bourgeoise to chauvinistic fervor on behalf of the fight against the revolutionary way out of the crisis.
Communist pamphlet
5. If a new spirit is to be infused into this old country, there is one thorny and contentious reform which must be tackled, and that is the humanization and galvanization of the B.B.C. Timidity here will bespeak canker and atrophy of the soul. The heart of Britain may be sound and of strong beat, for instance, but the British lion's roar at present is like that of Bottom in Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream — as gentle as any sucking dove. A virile new Britain cannot continue indefinitely to be traduced in the eyes or rather ears, of the world by the effete languors of Langham Place, brazenly masquerading as ‘standard English’. When the Voice of Britain is heard at nine o'clock, better far and infinitely less ludicrous to hear aitches honestly dropped than the present priggish, inflated, inhibited, school-ma'amish arch braying of blameless bashful mewing maidens!
Letter in Tribune
Each of these passages has faults of its own, but, quite apart from avoidable ugliness, two qualities are common to all of them. The first is staleness of imagery; the other is lack of precision. The writer either has a meaning and cannot express it, or he inadvertently says something else, or he is almost indifferent as to whether his words mean anything or not. This mixture of vagueness and sheer incompetence is the most marked characteristic of modern English prose, and especially of any kind of political writing. As soon as certain topics are raised, the concrete melts into the abstract and no one seems able to think of turns of speech that are not hackneyed: prose consists less and less of words chosen for the sake of their meaning, and more and more of phrases tacked together like the sections of a prefabricated hen-house. I list below, with notes and examples, various of the tricks by means of which the work of prose-construction is habitually dodged.
DYING METAPHORS. A newly invented metaphor assists thought by evoking a visual image, while on the other hand a metaphor which is technically ‘dead’ (e. g. iron resolution) has in effect reverted to being an ordinary word and can generally be used without loss of vividness. But in between these two classes there is a huge dump of worn-out metaphors which have lost all evocative power and are merely used because they save people the trouble of inventing phrases for themselves. Examples are: Ring the changes on, take up the cudgel for, toe the line, ride roughshod over, stand shoulder to shoulder with, play into the hands of, no axe to grind, grist to the mill, fishing in troubled waters, on the order of the day, Achilles’ heel, swan song, hotbed. Many of these are used without knowledge of their meaning (what is a ‘rift’, for instance?), and incompatible metaphors are frequently mixed, a sure sign that the writer is not interested in what he is saying. Some metaphors now current have been twisted out of their original meaning without those who use them even being aware of the fact. For example, toe the line is sometimes written as tow the line. Another example is the hammer and the anvil, now always used with the implication that the anvil gets the worst of it. In real life it is always the anvil that breaks the hammer, never the other way about: a writer who stopped to think what he was saying would avoid perverting the original phrase.
OPERATORS OR VERBAL FALSE LIMBS. These save the trouble of picking out appropriate verbs and nouns, and at the same time pad each sentence with extra syllables which give it an appearance of symmetry. Characteristic phrases are render inoperative, militate against, make contact with, be subjected to, give rise to, give grounds for, have the effect of, play a leading part (role) in, make itself felt, take effect, exhibit a tendency to, serve the purpose of, etc., etc. The keynote is the elimination of simple verbs. Instead of being a single word, such as break, stop, spoil, mend, kill, a verb becomes a phrase, made up of a noun or adjective tacked on to some general-purpose verb such as prove, serve, form, play, render. In addition, the passive voice is wherever possible used in preference to the active, and noun constructions are used instead of gerunds (by examination of instead of by examining). The range of verbs is further cut down by means of the -ize and de- formations, and the banal statements are given an appearance of profundity by means of the not un- formation. Simple conjunctions and prepositions are replaced by such phrases as with respect to, having regard to, the fact that, by dint of, in view of, in the interests of, on the hypothesis that; and the ends of sentences are saved by anticlimax by such resounding commonplaces as greatly to be desired, cannot be left out of account, a development to be expected in the near future, deserving of serious consideration, brought to a satisfactory conclusion, and so on and so forth.
PRETENTIOUS DICTION. Words like phenomenon, element, individual (as noun), objective, categorical, effective, virtual, basic, primary, promote, constitute, exhibit, exploit, utilize, eliminate, liquidate, are used to dress up a simple statement and give an air of scientific impartiality to biased judgements. Adjectives like epoch-making, epic, historic, unforgettable, triumphant, age-old, inevitable, inexorable, veritable, are used to dignify the sordid process of international politics, while writing that aims at glorifying war usually takes on an archaic colour, its characteristic words being: realm, throne, chariot, mailed fist, trident, sword, shield, buckler, banner, jackboot, clarion. Foreign words and expressions such as cul de sac, ancien regime, deus ex machina, mutatis mutandis, status quo, gleichschaltung, weltanschauung, are used to give an air of culture and elegance. Except for the useful abbreviations i. e., e. g. and etc., there is no real need for any of the hundreds of foreign phrases now current in the English language. Bad writers, and especially scientific, political, and sociological writers, are nearly always haunted by the notion that Latin or Greek words are grander than Saxon ones, and unnecessary words like expedite, ameliorate, predict, extraneous, deracinated, clandestine, subaqueous, and hundreds of others constantly gain ground from their Anglo-Saxon numbers(1). The jargon peculiar to Marxist writing (hyena, hangman, cannibal, petty bourgeois, these gentry, lackey, flunkey, mad dog, White Guard, etc.) consists largely of words translated from Russian, German, or French; but the normal way of coining a new word is to use Latin or Greek root with the appropriate affix and, where necessary, the size formation. It is often easier to make up words of this kind (deregionalize, impermissible, extramarital, non-fragmentary and so forth) than to think up the English words that will cover one's meaning. The result, in general, is an increase in slovenliness and vagueness.
MEANINGLESS WORDS. In certain kinds of writing, particularly in art criticism and literary criticism, it is normal to come across long passages which are almost completely lacking in meaning(2). Words like romantic, plastic, values, human, dead, sentimental, natural, vitality, as used in art criticism, are strictly meaningless, in the sense that they not only do not point to any discoverable object, but are hardly ever expected to do so by the reader. When one critic writes, ‘The outstanding feature of Mr. X's work is its living quality’, while another writes, ‘The immediately striking thing about Mr. X's work is its peculiar deadness’, the reader accepts this as a simple difference opinion. If words like black and white were involved, instead of the jargon words dead and living, he would see at once that language was being used in an improper way. Many political words are similarly abused. The word Fascism has now no meaning except in so far as it signifies ‘something not desirable’. The words democracy, socialism, freedom, patriotic, realistic, justice have each of them several different meanings which cannot be reconciled with one another. In the case of a word like democracy, not only is there no agreed definition, but the attempt to make one is resisted from all sides. It is almost universally felt that when we call a country democratic we are praising it: consequently the defenders of every kind of regime claim that it is a democracy, and fear that they might have to stop using that word if it were tied down to any one meaning. Words of this kind are often used in a consciously dishonest way. That is, the person who uses them has his own private definition, but allows his hearer to think he means something quite different. Statements like Marshal Petain was a true patriot, The Soviet press is the freest in the world, The Catholic Church is opposed to persecution, are almost always made with intent to deceive. Other words used in variable meanings, in most cases more or less dishonestly, are: class, totalitarian, science, progressive, reactionary, bourgeois, equality.
Now that I have made this catalogue of swindles and perversions, let me give another example of the kind of writing that they lead to. This time it must of its nature be an imaginary one. I am going to translate a passage of good English into modern English of the worst sort. Here is a well-known verse from Ecclesiastes:
I returned and saw under the sun, that the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, neither yet bread to the wise, nor yet riches to men of understanding, nor yet favour to men of skill; but time and chance happeneth to them all.
Here it is in modern English:
Objective considerations of contemporary phenomena compel the conclusion that success or failure in competitive activities exhibits no tendency to be commensurate with innate capacity, but that a considerable element of the unpredictable must invariably be taken into account.
This is a parody, but not a very gross one. Exhibit (3) above, for instance, contains several patches of the same kind of English. It will be seen that I have not made a full translation. The beginning and ending of the sentence follow the original meaning fairly closely, but in the middle the concrete illustrations — race, battle, bread — dissolve into the vague phrases ‘success or failure in competitive activities’. This had to be so, because no modern writer of the kind I am discussing — no one capable of using phrases like ‘objective considerations of contemporary phenomena’ — would ever tabulate his thoughts in that precise and detailed way. The whole tendency of modern prose is away from concreteness. Now analyze these two sentences a little more closely. The first contains forty-nine words but only sixty syllables, and all its words are those of everyday life. The second contains thirty-eight words of ninety syllables: eighteen of those words are from Latin roots, and one from Greek. The first sentence contains six vivid images, and only one phrase (‘time and chance’) that could be called vague. The second contains not a single fresh, arresting phrase, and in spite of its ninety syllables it gives only a shortened version of the meaning contained in the first. Yet without a doubt it is the second kind of sentence that is gaining ground in modern English. I do not want to exaggerate. This kind of writing is not yet universal, and outcrops of simplicity will occur here and there in the worst-written page. Still, if you or I were told to write a few lines on the uncertainty of human fortunes, we should probably come much nearer to my imaginary sentence than to the one from Ecclesiastes.
As I have tried to show, modern writing at its worst does not consist in picking out words for the sake of their meaning and inventing images in order to make the meaning clearer. It consists in gumming together long strips of words which have already been set in order by someone else, and making the results presentable by sheer humbug. The attraction of this way of writing is that it is easy. It is easier — even quicker, once you have the habit — to say In my opinion it is not an unjustifiable assumption that than to say I think. If you use ready-made phrases, you not only don't have to hunt about for the words; you also don't have to bother with the rhythms of your sentences since these phrases are generally so arranged as to be more or less euphonious. When you are composing in a hurry — when you are dictating to a stenographer, for instance, or making a public speech — it is natural to fall into a pretentious, Latinized style. Tags like a consideration which we should do well to bear in mind or a conclusion to which all of us would readily assent will save many a sentence from coming down with a bump. By using stale metaphors, similes, and idioms, you save much mental effort, at the cost of leaving your meaning vague, not only for your reader but for yourself. This is the significance of mixed metaphors. The sole aim of a metaphor is to call up a visual image. When these images clash — as in The Fascist octopus has sung its swan song, the jackboot is thrown into the melting pot — it can be taken as certain that the writer is not seeing a mental image of the objects he is naming; in other words he is not really thinking. Look again at the examples I gave at the beginning of this essay. Professor Laski (1) uses five negatives in fifty three words. One of these is superfluous, making nonsense of the whole passage, and in addition there is the slip — alien for akin — making further nonsense, and several avoidable pieces of clumsiness which increase the general vagueness. Professor Hogben (2) plays ducks and drakes with a battery which is able to write prescriptions, and, while disapproving of the everyday phrase put up with, is unwilling to look egregious up in the dictionary and see what it means; (3), if one takes an uncharitable attitude towards it, is simply meaningless: probably one could work out its intended meaning by reading the whole of the article in which it occurs. In (4), the writer knows more or less what he wants to say, but an accumulation of stale phrases chokes him like tea leaves blocking a sink. In (5), words and meaning have almost parted company. People who write in this manner usually have a general emotional meaning — they dislike one thing and want to express solidarity with another — but they are not interested in the detail of what they are saying. A scrupulous writer, in every sentence that he writes, will ask himself at least four questions, thus: What am I trying to say? What words will express it? What image or idiom will make it clearer? Is this image fresh enough to have an effect? And he will probably ask himself two more: Could I put it more shortly? Have I said anything that is avoidably ugly? But you are not obliged to go to all this trouble. You can shirk it by simply throwing your mind open and letting the ready-made phrases come crowding in. The will construct your sentences for you — even think your thoughts for you, to a certain extent — and at need they will perform the important service of partially concealing your meaning even from yourself. It is at this point that the special connection between politics and the debasement of language becomes clear.
In our time it is broadly true that political writing is bad writing. Where it is not true, it will generally be found that the writer is some kind of rebel, expressing his private opinions and not a ‘party line’. Orthodoxy, of whatever colour, seems to demand a lifeless, imitative style. The political dialects to be found in pamphlets, leading articles, manifestos, White papers and the speeches of undersecretaries do, of course, vary from party to party, but they are all alike in that one almost never finds in them a fresh, vivid, homemade turn of speech. When one watches some tired hack on the platform mechanically repeating the familiar phrases — bestial, atrocities, iron heel, bloodstained tyranny, free peoples of the world, stand shoulder to shoulder — one often has a curious feeling that one is not watching a live human being but some kind of dummy: a feeling which suddenly becomes stronger at moments when the light catches the speaker's spectacles and turns them into blank discs which seem to have no eyes behind them. And this is not altogether fanciful. A speaker who uses that kind of phraseology has gone some distance toward turning himself into a machine. The appropriate noises are coming out of his larynx, but his brain is not involved, as it would be if he were choosing his words for himself. If the speech he is making is one that he is accustomed to make over and over again, he may be almost unconscious of what he is saying, as one is when one utters the responses in church. And this reduced state of consciousness, if not indispensable, is at any rate favourable to political conformity.
In our time, political speech and writing are largely the defence of the indefensible. Things like the continuance of British rule in India, the Russian purges and deportations, the dropping of the atom bombs on Japan, can indeed be defended, but only by arguments which are too brutal for most people to face, and which do not square with the professed aims of the political parties. Thus political language has to consist largely of euphemism, question-begging and sheer cloudy vagueness. Defenceless villages are bombarded from the air, the inhabitants driven out into the countryside, the cattle machine-gunned, the huts set on fire with incendiary bullets: this is called pacification. Millions of peasants are robbed of their farms and sent trudging along the roads with no more than they can carry: this is called transfer of population or rectification of frontiers. People are imprisoned for years without trial, or shot in the back of the neck or sent to die of scurvy in Arctic lumber camps: this is called elimination of unreliable elements. Such phraseology is needed if one wants to name things without calling up mental pictures of them. Consider for instance some comfortable English professor defending Russian totalitarianism. He cannot say outright, ‘I believe in killing off your opponents when you can get good results by doing so’. Probably, therefore, he will say something like this:
‘While freely conceding that the Soviet regime exhibits certain features which the humanitarian may be inclined to deplore, we must, I think, agree that a certain curtailment of the right to political opposition is an unavoidable concomitant of transitional periods, and that the rigors which the Russian people have been called upon to undergo have been amply justified in the sphere of concrete achievement.’
The inflated style itself is a kind of euphemism. A mass of Latin words falls upon the facts like soft snow, blurring the outline and covering up all the details. The great enemy of clear language is insincerity. When there is a gap between one's real and one's declared aims, one turns as it were instinctively to long words and exhausted idioms, like a cuttlefish spurting out ink. In our age there is no such thing as ‘keeping out of politics’. All issues are political issues, and politics itself is a mass of lies, evasions, folly, hatred, and schizophrenia. When the general atmosphere is bad, language must suffer. I should expect to find — this is a guess which I have not sufficient knowledge to verify — that the German, Russian and Italian languages have all deteriorated in the last ten or fifteen years, as a result of dictatorship.
But if thought corrupts language, language can also corrupt thought. A bad usage can spread by tradition and imitation even among people who should and do know better. The debased language that I have been discussing is in some ways very convenient. Phrases like a not unjustifiable assumption, leaves much to be desired, would serve no good purpose, a consideration which we should do well to bear in mind, are a continuous temptation, a packet of aspirins always at one's elbow. Look back through this essay, and for certain you will find that I have again and again committed the very faults I am protesting against. By this morning's post I have received a pamphlet dealing with conditions in Germany. The author tells me that he ‘felt impelled’ to write it. I open it at random, and here is almost the first sentence I see: ‘[The Allies] have an opportunity not only of achieving a radical transformation of Germany's social and political structure in such a way as to avoid a nationalistic reaction in Germany itself, but at the same time of laying the foundations of a co-operative and unified Europe.’ You see, he ‘feels impelled’ to write — feels, presumably, that he has something new to say — and yet his words, like cavalry horses answering the bugle, group themselves automatically into the familiar dreary pattern. This invasion of one's mind by ready-made phrases (lay the foundations, achieve a radical transformation) can only be prevented if one is constantly on guard against them, and every such phrase anaesthetizes a portion of one's brain.
I said earlier that the decadence of our language is probably curable. Those who deny this would argue, if they produced an argument at all, that language merely reflects existing social conditions, and that we cannot influence its development by any direct tinkering with words and constructions. So far as the general tone or spirit of a language goes, this may be true, but it is not true in detail. Silly words and expressions have often disappeared, not through any evolutionary process but owing to the conscious action of a minority. Two recent examples were explore every avenue and leave no stone unturned, which were killed by the jeers of a few journalists. There is a long list of flyblown metaphors which could similarly be got rid of if enough people would interest themselves in the job; and it should also be possible to laugh the not un- formation out of existence(3), to reduce the amount of Latin and Greek in the average sentence, to drive out foreign phrases and strayed scientific words, and, in general, to make pretentiousness unfashionable. But all these are minor points. The defence of the English language implies more than this, and perhaps it is best to start by saying what it does not imply.
To begin with it has nothing to do with archaism, with the salvaging of obsolete words and turns of speech, or with the setting up of a ‘standard English’ which must never be departed from. On the contrary, it is especially concerned with the scrapping of every word or idiom which has outworn its usefulness. It has nothing to do with correct grammar and syntax, which are of no importance so long as one makes one's meaning clear, or with the avoidance of Americanisms, or with having what is called a ‘good prose style’. On the other hand, it is not concerned with fake simplicity and the attempt to make written English colloquial. Nor does it even imply in every case preferring the Saxon word to the Latin one, though it does imply using the fewest and shortest words that will cover one's meaning. What is above all needed is to let the meaning choose the word, and not the other way around. In prose, the worst thing one can do with words is surrender to them. When you think of a concrete object, you think wordlessly, and then, if you want to describe the thing you have been visualising you probably hunt about until you find the exact words that seem to fit it. When you think of something abstract you are more inclined to use words from the start, and unless you make a conscious effort to prevent it, the existing dialect will come rushing in and do the job for you, at the expense of blurring or even changing your meaning. Probably it is better to put off using words as long as possible and get one's meaning as clear as one can through pictures and sensations. Afterward one can choose — not simply accept — the phrases that will best cover the meaning, and then switch round and decide what impressions one's words are likely to make on another person. This last effort of the mind cuts out all stale or mixed images, all prefabricated phrases, needless repetitions, and humbug and vagueness generally. But one can often be in doubt about the effect of a word or a phrase, and one needs rules that one can rely on when instinct fails. I think the following rules will cover most cases:
i.Never use a metaphor, simile, or other figure of speech which you are used to seeing in print.
ii.Never use a long word where a short one will do.
iii.If it is possible to cut a word out, always cut it out.
iv.Never use the passive where you can use the active.
v.Never use a foreign phrase, a scientific word, or a jargon word if you can think of an everyday English equivalent.
vi.Break any of these rules sooner than say anything outright barbarous.
These rules sound elementary, and so they are, but they demand a deep change of attitude in anyone who has grown used to writing in the style now fashionable. One could keep all of them and still write bad English, but one could not write the kind of stuff that I quoted in those five specimens at the beginning of this article.
I have not here been considering the literary use of language, but merely language as an instrument for expressing and not for concealing or preventing thought. Stuart Chase and others have come near to claiming that all abstract words are meaningless, and have used this as a pretext for advocating a kind of political quietism. Since you don't know what Fascism is, how can you struggle against Fascism? One need not swallow such absurdities as this, but one ought to recognise that the present political chaos is connected with the decay of language, and that one can probably bring about some improvement by starting at the verbal end. If you simplify your English, you are freed from the worst follies of orthodoxy. You cannot speak any of the necessary dialects, and when you make a stupid remark its stupidity will be obvious, even to yourself. Political language — and with variations this is true of all political parties, from Conservatives to Anarchists — is designed to make lies sound truthful and murder respectable, and to give an appearance of solidity to pure wind. One cannot change this all in a moment, but one can at least change one's own habits, and from time to time one can even, if one jeers loudly enough, send some worn-out and useless phrase — some jackboot, Achilles’ heel, hotbed, melting pot, acid test, veritable inferno, or other lump of verbal refuse — into the dustbin where it belongs.
from: http://www.orwell.ru/library/essays/politics/english/e_polit
Now, it is clear that the decline of a language must ultimately have political and economic causes: it is not due simply to the bad influence of this or that individual writer. But an effect can become a cause, reinforcing the original cause and producing the same effect in an intensified form, and so on indefinitely. A man may take to drink because he feels himself to be a failure, and then fail all the more completely because he drinks. It is rather the same thing that is happening to the English language. It becomes ugly and inaccurate because our thoughts are foolish, but the slovenliness of our language makes it easier for us to have foolish thoughts. The point is that the process is reversible. Modern English, especially written English, is full of bad habits which spread by imitation and which can be avoided if one is willing to take the necessary trouble. If one gets rid of these habits one can think more clearly, and to think clearly is a necessary first step toward political regeneration: so that the fight against bad English is not frivolous and is not the exclusive concern of professional writers. I will come back to this presently, and I hope that by that time the meaning of what I have said here will have become clearer. Meanwhile, here are five specimens of the English language as it is now habitually written.
These five passages have not been picked out because they are especially bad — I could have quoted far worse if I had chosen — but because they illustrate various of the mental vices from which we now suffer. They are a little below the average, but are fairly representative examples. I number them so that I can refer back to them when necessary:
1. I am not, indeed, sure whether it is not true to say that the Milton who once seemed not unlike a seventeenth-century Shelley had not become, out of an experience ever more bitter in each year, more alien [sic] to the founder of that Jesuit sect which nothing could induce him to tolerate.
Professor Harold Laski (Essay in Freedom of Expression)
2. Above all, we cannot play ducks and drakes with a native battery of idioms which prescribes egregious collocations of vocables as the Basic put up with for tolerate, or put at a loss for bewilder.
Professor Lancelot Hogben (Interglossia)
3. On the one side we have the free personality: by definition it is not neurotic, for it has neither conflict nor dream. Its desires, such as they are, are transparent, for they are just what institutional approval keeps in the forefront of consciousness; another institutional pattern would alter their number and intensity; there is little in them that is natural, irreducible, or culturally dangerous. But on the other side, the social bond itself is nothing but the mutual reflection of these self-secure integrities. Recall the definition of love. Is not this the very picture of a small academic? Where is there a place in this hall of mirrors for either personality or fraternity?
Essay on psychology in Politics (New York)
4. All the ‘best people’ from the gentlemen's clubs, and all the frantic fascist captains, united in common hatred of Socialism and bestial horror at the rising tide of the mass revolutionary movement, have turned to acts of provocation, to foul incendiarism, to medieval legends of poisoned wells, to legalize their own destruction of proletarian organizations, and rouse the agitated petty-bourgeoise to chauvinistic fervor on behalf of the fight against the revolutionary way out of the crisis.
Communist pamphlet
5. If a new spirit is to be infused into this old country, there is one thorny and contentious reform which must be tackled, and that is the humanization and galvanization of the B.B.C. Timidity here will bespeak canker and atrophy of the soul. The heart of Britain may be sound and of strong beat, for instance, but the British lion's roar at present is like that of Bottom in Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream — as gentle as any sucking dove. A virile new Britain cannot continue indefinitely to be traduced in the eyes or rather ears, of the world by the effete languors of Langham Place, brazenly masquerading as ‘standard English’. When the Voice of Britain is heard at nine o'clock, better far and infinitely less ludicrous to hear aitches honestly dropped than the present priggish, inflated, inhibited, school-ma'amish arch braying of blameless bashful mewing maidens!
Letter in Tribune
Each of these passages has faults of its own, but, quite apart from avoidable ugliness, two qualities are common to all of them. The first is staleness of imagery; the other is lack of precision. The writer either has a meaning and cannot express it, or he inadvertently says something else, or he is almost indifferent as to whether his words mean anything or not. This mixture of vagueness and sheer incompetence is the most marked characteristic of modern English prose, and especially of any kind of political writing. As soon as certain topics are raised, the concrete melts into the abstract and no one seems able to think of turns of speech that are not hackneyed: prose consists less and less of words chosen for the sake of their meaning, and more and more of phrases tacked together like the sections of a prefabricated hen-house. I list below, with notes and examples, various of the tricks by means of which the work of prose-construction is habitually dodged.
DYING METAPHORS. A newly invented metaphor assists thought by evoking a visual image, while on the other hand a metaphor which is technically ‘dead’ (e. g. iron resolution) has in effect reverted to being an ordinary word and can generally be used without loss of vividness. But in between these two classes there is a huge dump of worn-out metaphors which have lost all evocative power and are merely used because they save people the trouble of inventing phrases for themselves. Examples are: Ring the changes on, take up the cudgel for, toe the line, ride roughshod over, stand shoulder to shoulder with, play into the hands of, no axe to grind, grist to the mill, fishing in troubled waters, on the order of the day, Achilles’ heel, swan song, hotbed. Many of these are used without knowledge of their meaning (what is a ‘rift’, for instance?), and incompatible metaphors are frequently mixed, a sure sign that the writer is not interested in what he is saying. Some metaphors now current have been twisted out of their original meaning without those who use them even being aware of the fact. For example, toe the line is sometimes written as tow the line. Another example is the hammer and the anvil, now always used with the implication that the anvil gets the worst of it. In real life it is always the anvil that breaks the hammer, never the other way about: a writer who stopped to think what he was saying would avoid perverting the original phrase.
OPERATORS OR VERBAL FALSE LIMBS. These save the trouble of picking out appropriate verbs and nouns, and at the same time pad each sentence with extra syllables which give it an appearance of symmetry. Characteristic phrases are render inoperative, militate against, make contact with, be subjected to, give rise to, give grounds for, have the effect of, play a leading part (role) in, make itself felt, take effect, exhibit a tendency to, serve the purpose of, etc., etc. The keynote is the elimination of simple verbs. Instead of being a single word, such as break, stop, spoil, mend, kill, a verb becomes a phrase, made up of a noun or adjective tacked on to some general-purpose verb such as prove, serve, form, play, render. In addition, the passive voice is wherever possible used in preference to the active, and noun constructions are used instead of gerunds (by examination of instead of by examining). The range of verbs is further cut down by means of the -ize and de- formations, and the banal statements are given an appearance of profundity by means of the not un- formation. Simple conjunctions and prepositions are replaced by such phrases as with respect to, having regard to, the fact that, by dint of, in view of, in the interests of, on the hypothesis that; and the ends of sentences are saved by anticlimax by such resounding commonplaces as greatly to be desired, cannot be left out of account, a development to be expected in the near future, deserving of serious consideration, brought to a satisfactory conclusion, and so on and so forth.
PRETENTIOUS DICTION. Words like phenomenon, element, individual (as noun), objective, categorical, effective, virtual, basic, primary, promote, constitute, exhibit, exploit, utilize, eliminate, liquidate, are used to dress up a simple statement and give an air of scientific impartiality to biased judgements. Adjectives like epoch-making, epic, historic, unforgettable, triumphant, age-old, inevitable, inexorable, veritable, are used to dignify the sordid process of international politics, while writing that aims at glorifying war usually takes on an archaic colour, its characteristic words being: realm, throne, chariot, mailed fist, trident, sword, shield, buckler, banner, jackboot, clarion. Foreign words and expressions such as cul de sac, ancien regime, deus ex machina, mutatis mutandis, status quo, gleichschaltung, weltanschauung, are used to give an air of culture and elegance. Except for the useful abbreviations i. e., e. g. and etc., there is no real need for any of the hundreds of foreign phrases now current in the English language. Bad writers, and especially scientific, political, and sociological writers, are nearly always haunted by the notion that Latin or Greek words are grander than Saxon ones, and unnecessary words like expedite, ameliorate, predict, extraneous, deracinated, clandestine, subaqueous, and hundreds of others constantly gain ground from their Anglo-Saxon numbers(1). The jargon peculiar to Marxist writing (hyena, hangman, cannibal, petty bourgeois, these gentry, lackey, flunkey, mad dog, White Guard, etc.) consists largely of words translated from Russian, German, or French; but the normal way of coining a new word is to use Latin or Greek root with the appropriate affix and, where necessary, the size formation. It is often easier to make up words of this kind (deregionalize, impermissible, extramarital, non-fragmentary and so forth) than to think up the English words that will cover one's meaning. The result, in general, is an increase in slovenliness and vagueness.
MEANINGLESS WORDS. In certain kinds of writing, particularly in art criticism and literary criticism, it is normal to come across long passages which are almost completely lacking in meaning(2). Words like romantic, plastic, values, human, dead, sentimental, natural, vitality, as used in art criticism, are strictly meaningless, in the sense that they not only do not point to any discoverable object, but are hardly ever expected to do so by the reader. When one critic writes, ‘The outstanding feature of Mr. X's work is its living quality’, while another writes, ‘The immediately striking thing about Mr. X's work is its peculiar deadness’, the reader accepts this as a simple difference opinion. If words like black and white were involved, instead of the jargon words dead and living, he would see at once that language was being used in an improper way. Many political words are similarly abused. The word Fascism has now no meaning except in so far as it signifies ‘something not desirable’. The words democracy, socialism, freedom, patriotic, realistic, justice have each of them several different meanings which cannot be reconciled with one another. In the case of a word like democracy, not only is there no agreed definition, but the attempt to make one is resisted from all sides. It is almost universally felt that when we call a country democratic we are praising it: consequently the defenders of every kind of regime claim that it is a democracy, and fear that they might have to stop using that word if it were tied down to any one meaning. Words of this kind are often used in a consciously dishonest way. That is, the person who uses them has his own private definition, but allows his hearer to think he means something quite different. Statements like Marshal Petain was a true patriot, The Soviet press is the freest in the world, The Catholic Church is opposed to persecution, are almost always made with intent to deceive. Other words used in variable meanings, in most cases more or less dishonestly, are: class, totalitarian, science, progressive, reactionary, bourgeois, equality.
Now that I have made this catalogue of swindles and perversions, let me give another example of the kind of writing that they lead to. This time it must of its nature be an imaginary one. I am going to translate a passage of good English into modern English of the worst sort. Here is a well-known verse from Ecclesiastes:
I returned and saw under the sun, that the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, neither yet bread to the wise, nor yet riches to men of understanding, nor yet favour to men of skill; but time and chance happeneth to them all.
Here it is in modern English:
Objective considerations of contemporary phenomena compel the conclusion that success or failure in competitive activities exhibits no tendency to be commensurate with innate capacity, but that a considerable element of the unpredictable must invariably be taken into account.
This is a parody, but not a very gross one. Exhibit (3) above, for instance, contains several patches of the same kind of English. It will be seen that I have not made a full translation. The beginning and ending of the sentence follow the original meaning fairly closely, but in the middle the concrete illustrations — race, battle, bread — dissolve into the vague phrases ‘success or failure in competitive activities’. This had to be so, because no modern writer of the kind I am discussing — no one capable of using phrases like ‘objective considerations of contemporary phenomena’ — would ever tabulate his thoughts in that precise and detailed way. The whole tendency of modern prose is away from concreteness. Now analyze these two sentences a little more closely. The first contains forty-nine words but only sixty syllables, and all its words are those of everyday life. The second contains thirty-eight words of ninety syllables: eighteen of those words are from Latin roots, and one from Greek. The first sentence contains six vivid images, and only one phrase (‘time and chance’) that could be called vague. The second contains not a single fresh, arresting phrase, and in spite of its ninety syllables it gives only a shortened version of the meaning contained in the first. Yet without a doubt it is the second kind of sentence that is gaining ground in modern English. I do not want to exaggerate. This kind of writing is not yet universal, and outcrops of simplicity will occur here and there in the worst-written page. Still, if you or I were told to write a few lines on the uncertainty of human fortunes, we should probably come much nearer to my imaginary sentence than to the one from Ecclesiastes.
As I have tried to show, modern writing at its worst does not consist in picking out words for the sake of their meaning and inventing images in order to make the meaning clearer. It consists in gumming together long strips of words which have already been set in order by someone else, and making the results presentable by sheer humbug. The attraction of this way of writing is that it is easy. It is easier — even quicker, once you have the habit — to say In my opinion it is not an unjustifiable assumption that than to say I think. If you use ready-made phrases, you not only don't have to hunt about for the words; you also don't have to bother with the rhythms of your sentences since these phrases are generally so arranged as to be more or less euphonious. When you are composing in a hurry — when you are dictating to a stenographer, for instance, or making a public speech — it is natural to fall into a pretentious, Latinized style. Tags like a consideration which we should do well to bear in mind or a conclusion to which all of us would readily assent will save many a sentence from coming down with a bump. By using stale metaphors, similes, and idioms, you save much mental effort, at the cost of leaving your meaning vague, not only for your reader but for yourself. This is the significance of mixed metaphors. The sole aim of a metaphor is to call up a visual image. When these images clash — as in The Fascist octopus has sung its swan song, the jackboot is thrown into the melting pot — it can be taken as certain that the writer is not seeing a mental image of the objects he is naming; in other words he is not really thinking. Look again at the examples I gave at the beginning of this essay. Professor Laski (1) uses five negatives in fifty three words. One of these is superfluous, making nonsense of the whole passage, and in addition there is the slip — alien for akin — making further nonsense, and several avoidable pieces of clumsiness which increase the general vagueness. Professor Hogben (2) plays ducks and drakes with a battery which is able to write prescriptions, and, while disapproving of the everyday phrase put up with, is unwilling to look egregious up in the dictionary and see what it means; (3), if one takes an uncharitable attitude towards it, is simply meaningless: probably one could work out its intended meaning by reading the whole of the article in which it occurs. In (4), the writer knows more or less what he wants to say, but an accumulation of stale phrases chokes him like tea leaves blocking a sink. In (5), words and meaning have almost parted company. People who write in this manner usually have a general emotional meaning — they dislike one thing and want to express solidarity with another — but they are not interested in the detail of what they are saying. A scrupulous writer, in every sentence that he writes, will ask himself at least four questions, thus: What am I trying to say? What words will express it? What image or idiom will make it clearer? Is this image fresh enough to have an effect? And he will probably ask himself two more: Could I put it more shortly? Have I said anything that is avoidably ugly? But you are not obliged to go to all this trouble. You can shirk it by simply throwing your mind open and letting the ready-made phrases come crowding in. The will construct your sentences for you — even think your thoughts for you, to a certain extent — and at need they will perform the important service of partially concealing your meaning even from yourself. It is at this point that the special connection between politics and the debasement of language becomes clear.
In our time it is broadly true that political writing is bad writing. Where it is not true, it will generally be found that the writer is some kind of rebel, expressing his private opinions and not a ‘party line’. Orthodoxy, of whatever colour, seems to demand a lifeless, imitative style. The political dialects to be found in pamphlets, leading articles, manifestos, White papers and the speeches of undersecretaries do, of course, vary from party to party, but they are all alike in that one almost never finds in them a fresh, vivid, homemade turn of speech. When one watches some tired hack on the platform mechanically repeating the familiar phrases — bestial, atrocities, iron heel, bloodstained tyranny, free peoples of the world, stand shoulder to shoulder — one often has a curious feeling that one is not watching a live human being but some kind of dummy: a feeling which suddenly becomes stronger at moments when the light catches the speaker's spectacles and turns them into blank discs which seem to have no eyes behind them. And this is not altogether fanciful. A speaker who uses that kind of phraseology has gone some distance toward turning himself into a machine. The appropriate noises are coming out of his larynx, but his brain is not involved, as it would be if he were choosing his words for himself. If the speech he is making is one that he is accustomed to make over and over again, he may be almost unconscious of what he is saying, as one is when one utters the responses in church. And this reduced state of consciousness, if not indispensable, is at any rate favourable to political conformity.
In our time, political speech and writing are largely the defence of the indefensible. Things like the continuance of British rule in India, the Russian purges and deportations, the dropping of the atom bombs on Japan, can indeed be defended, but only by arguments which are too brutal for most people to face, and which do not square with the professed aims of the political parties. Thus political language has to consist largely of euphemism, question-begging and sheer cloudy vagueness. Defenceless villages are bombarded from the air, the inhabitants driven out into the countryside, the cattle machine-gunned, the huts set on fire with incendiary bullets: this is called pacification. Millions of peasants are robbed of their farms and sent trudging along the roads with no more than they can carry: this is called transfer of population or rectification of frontiers. People are imprisoned for years without trial, or shot in the back of the neck or sent to die of scurvy in Arctic lumber camps: this is called elimination of unreliable elements. Such phraseology is needed if one wants to name things without calling up mental pictures of them. Consider for instance some comfortable English professor defending Russian totalitarianism. He cannot say outright, ‘I believe in killing off your opponents when you can get good results by doing so’. Probably, therefore, he will say something like this:
‘While freely conceding that the Soviet regime exhibits certain features which the humanitarian may be inclined to deplore, we must, I think, agree that a certain curtailment of the right to political opposition is an unavoidable concomitant of transitional periods, and that the rigors which the Russian people have been called upon to undergo have been amply justified in the sphere of concrete achievement.’
The inflated style itself is a kind of euphemism. A mass of Latin words falls upon the facts like soft snow, blurring the outline and covering up all the details. The great enemy of clear language is insincerity. When there is a gap between one's real and one's declared aims, one turns as it were instinctively to long words and exhausted idioms, like a cuttlefish spurting out ink. In our age there is no such thing as ‘keeping out of politics’. All issues are political issues, and politics itself is a mass of lies, evasions, folly, hatred, and schizophrenia. When the general atmosphere is bad, language must suffer. I should expect to find — this is a guess which I have not sufficient knowledge to verify — that the German, Russian and Italian languages have all deteriorated in the last ten or fifteen years, as a result of dictatorship.
But if thought corrupts language, language can also corrupt thought. A bad usage can spread by tradition and imitation even among people who should and do know better. The debased language that I have been discussing is in some ways very convenient. Phrases like a not unjustifiable assumption, leaves much to be desired, would serve no good purpose, a consideration which we should do well to bear in mind, are a continuous temptation, a packet of aspirins always at one's elbow. Look back through this essay, and for certain you will find that I have again and again committed the very faults I am protesting against. By this morning's post I have received a pamphlet dealing with conditions in Germany. The author tells me that he ‘felt impelled’ to write it. I open it at random, and here is almost the first sentence I see: ‘[The Allies] have an opportunity not only of achieving a radical transformation of Germany's social and political structure in such a way as to avoid a nationalistic reaction in Germany itself, but at the same time of laying the foundations of a co-operative and unified Europe.’ You see, he ‘feels impelled’ to write — feels, presumably, that he has something new to say — and yet his words, like cavalry horses answering the bugle, group themselves automatically into the familiar dreary pattern. This invasion of one's mind by ready-made phrases (lay the foundations, achieve a radical transformation) can only be prevented if one is constantly on guard against them, and every such phrase anaesthetizes a portion of one's brain.
I said earlier that the decadence of our language is probably curable. Those who deny this would argue, if they produced an argument at all, that language merely reflects existing social conditions, and that we cannot influence its development by any direct tinkering with words and constructions. So far as the general tone or spirit of a language goes, this may be true, but it is not true in detail. Silly words and expressions have often disappeared, not through any evolutionary process but owing to the conscious action of a minority. Two recent examples were explore every avenue and leave no stone unturned, which were killed by the jeers of a few journalists. There is a long list of flyblown metaphors which could similarly be got rid of if enough people would interest themselves in the job; and it should also be possible to laugh the not un- formation out of existence(3), to reduce the amount of Latin and Greek in the average sentence, to drive out foreign phrases and strayed scientific words, and, in general, to make pretentiousness unfashionable. But all these are minor points. The defence of the English language implies more than this, and perhaps it is best to start by saying what it does not imply.
To begin with it has nothing to do with archaism, with the salvaging of obsolete words and turns of speech, or with the setting up of a ‘standard English’ which must never be departed from. On the contrary, it is especially concerned with the scrapping of every word or idiom which has outworn its usefulness. It has nothing to do with correct grammar and syntax, which are of no importance so long as one makes one's meaning clear, or with the avoidance of Americanisms, or with having what is called a ‘good prose style’. On the other hand, it is not concerned with fake simplicity and the attempt to make written English colloquial. Nor does it even imply in every case preferring the Saxon word to the Latin one, though it does imply using the fewest and shortest words that will cover one's meaning. What is above all needed is to let the meaning choose the word, and not the other way around. In prose, the worst thing one can do with words is surrender to them. When you think of a concrete object, you think wordlessly, and then, if you want to describe the thing you have been visualising you probably hunt about until you find the exact words that seem to fit it. When you think of something abstract you are more inclined to use words from the start, and unless you make a conscious effort to prevent it, the existing dialect will come rushing in and do the job for you, at the expense of blurring or even changing your meaning. Probably it is better to put off using words as long as possible and get one's meaning as clear as one can through pictures and sensations. Afterward one can choose — not simply accept — the phrases that will best cover the meaning, and then switch round and decide what impressions one's words are likely to make on another person. This last effort of the mind cuts out all stale or mixed images, all prefabricated phrases, needless repetitions, and humbug and vagueness generally. But one can often be in doubt about the effect of a word or a phrase, and one needs rules that one can rely on when instinct fails. I think the following rules will cover most cases:
i.Never use a metaphor, simile, or other figure of speech which you are used to seeing in print.
ii.Never use a long word where a short one will do.
iii.If it is possible to cut a word out, always cut it out.
iv.Never use the passive where you can use the active.
v.Never use a foreign phrase, a scientific word, or a jargon word if you can think of an everyday English equivalent.
vi.Break any of these rules sooner than say anything outright barbarous.
These rules sound elementary, and so they are, but they demand a deep change of attitude in anyone who has grown used to writing in the style now fashionable. One could keep all of them and still write bad English, but one could not write the kind of stuff that I quoted in those five specimens at the beginning of this article.
I have not here been considering the literary use of language, but merely language as an instrument for expressing and not for concealing or preventing thought. Stuart Chase and others have come near to claiming that all abstract words are meaningless, and have used this as a pretext for advocating a kind of political quietism. Since you don't know what Fascism is, how can you struggle against Fascism? One need not swallow such absurdities as this, but one ought to recognise that the present political chaos is connected with the decay of language, and that one can probably bring about some improvement by starting at the verbal end. If you simplify your English, you are freed from the worst follies of orthodoxy. You cannot speak any of the necessary dialects, and when you make a stupid remark its stupidity will be obvious, even to yourself. Political language — and with variations this is true of all political parties, from Conservatives to Anarchists — is designed to make lies sound truthful and murder respectable, and to give an appearance of solidity to pure wind. One cannot change this all in a moment, but one can at least change one's own habits, and from time to time one can even, if one jeers loudly enough, send some worn-out and useless phrase — some jackboot, Achilles’ heel, hotbed, melting pot, acid test, veritable inferno, or other lump of verbal refuse — into the dustbin where it belongs.
from: http://www.orwell.ru/library/essays/politics/english/e_polit
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
great, 3/4 of the holidays have passed and i have barely finished 1/4 of my revision. great.
I have been hearing stories from others (who are just as slack as me) and everyone says that the mind is like a sieve that traps nothing. lately I have been suffering from some concentration problems cos I cant focus!!! urgh.
so, partly because I want to read it and partly because I need to read a book for my book review, (am I the only one who actualy READ a book for book review? I'm such a good student:)) I borrowed MM Lee's "hard truths to keep Singapore going" from the library yesterday. So far I have finished 4 chapters and I think that it is a great book to enlighten and remind us that we are not living the life we are living because of some sheer good luck. I agree with what he says, that Singaporeans are taking this comfort now for granted. I remembered that I attended a lecture last year and a Korean student said "Singapore students think that they deserve all these opportunies and stuff, but they are actually not as good as they think they are". I'm not sure how many out there understand this, and how many agree, but I think I know what she means.
My parents' friends' kids are undergoing the gruelsome gaokao these few years and some of them are planning to go Hong Kong for their further studies. I also want to go Hong Kong. Cos not only is university of hong kong the best school in Asia, it is also very strong in economics, they have a three-year instead of four-year education. and plus they teach in English. But thinking how Singaporeans disregard HKU and think that NUS is better than the rest, I'm not sure how my job prospects will be if I were to go HKU. Do I need to get an Ivy-League masters of UK masters after that?
oh well. mug first. think later.
I have been hearing stories from others (who are just as slack as me) and everyone says that the mind is like a sieve that traps nothing. lately I have been suffering from some concentration problems cos I cant focus!!! urgh.
so, partly because I want to read it and partly because I need to read a book for my book review, (am I the only one who actualy READ a book for book review? I'm such a good student:)) I borrowed MM Lee's "hard truths to keep Singapore going" from the library yesterday. So far I have finished 4 chapters and I think that it is a great book to enlighten and remind us that we are not living the life we are living because of some sheer good luck. I agree with what he says, that Singaporeans are taking this comfort now for granted. I remembered that I attended a lecture last year and a Korean student said "Singapore students think that they deserve all these opportunies and stuff, but they are actually not as good as they think they are". I'm not sure how many out there understand this, and how many agree, but I think I know what she means.
My parents' friends' kids are undergoing the gruelsome gaokao these few years and some of them are planning to go Hong Kong for their further studies. I also want to go Hong Kong. Cos not only is university of hong kong the best school in Asia, it is also very strong in economics, they have a three-year instead of four-year education. and plus they teach in English. But thinking how Singaporeans disregard HKU and think that NUS is better than the rest, I'm not sure how my job prospects will be if I were to go HKU. Do I need to get an Ivy-League masters of UK masters after that?
oh well. mug first. think later.
Monday, June 13, 2011
诈降计
终于找到paste的方法了，蛮喜欢这篇的.
《诈降计》
http://book.sina.com.cn 2007年03月27日 00:17
连载:机变诡异的中国古代权术 作者：秦学颀 出版社:广西人民出版社
赤壁之战战场遗址在赤壁之战前，周瑜与曹操展开了一场以诈降计为中心的十分精彩的谋略战。曹操中了周瑜的反间计，误杀蔡瑁和张允，嘴上不说，心里实在懊恼。幕僚荀攸说：“时下孙刘结盟，急切难破。派人去东吴诈降，以为内应，暗通消息，等待时机，一举破敌。”曹操说：“足下此言，正合我意，你认为军中谁可以施行此计?”荀攸说：“蔡瑁被诛，蔡氏宗族皆在军中。蔡瑁的族弟蔡中、蔡和现为副将，丞相可以厚恩笼络，派二人去东吴诈降，东吴肯定不会怀疑。”曹操采纳了荀攸的计谋，当夜便把二蔡唤入帐内，对他们说：“你们二人可引少量军士前去东吴诈降，但有动静，即来密报，事成之后，一定重加封赏，切切无生二心。”蔡中、蔡和说：“我们二人妻子俱在荆州，怎敢怀有二心，请丞相无疑，我们二人过江，必取周瑜、诸葛亮之首级献于麾下。”曹操对二人厚加赏赐。第二天，蔡中、蔡和二人即带领五百军士渡过长江，来到东吴投降。
周瑜听说是蔡瑁的族弟蔡中、蔡和来投降，即命传二人进见。二人一见周瑜，便哭拜在地，说：“吾兄无罪，无故为曹贼所杀，我们二人欲报兄仇，特来投降，望都督收录，愿为前部。”周瑜大喜，重赏了二人，即命在甘宁军中为前部。二人拜谢出帐，以为周瑜中计，心中暗喜。周瑜把甘宁秘密唤来吩咐道：“此二人不带家小，绝非真正投降，一定是曹操派来做奸细的。我欲将计就计，正好叫他们为我通报消息。你对二人要殷勤相待，暗中提防，切需小心，不得有误。”甘宁领命而去。甘宁刚走，鲁肃来见周瑜，说：“蔡中、蔡和投降，多半是诈，不可收用。”周瑜斥责道：“二人因曹操杀其兄，欲报仇而来投降，何诈之有!你若如此多疑，怎能容天下人士?”鲁肃默然而退，到诸葛亮处告知此事。诸葛亮笑着说：“此乃公瑾将计就计也。”鲁肃方才醒悟。
当天晚上，周瑜正在帐中，忽见黄盖悄悄来到。周瑜问道：“公覆夜至，必有良谋赐教?”黄盖说：“敌众我寡，不宜久持，何不用火攻之?”周瑜说：“是谁教公献此计的?”黄盖说：“此计乃出自己意，并非他人所教。”周瑜说：“我也正欲如此，故留蔡中、蔡和这两个诈降之人以通消息。但我现在苦恼的是没有一个合适的人为我行诈降之计。”黄盖说：“我愿行此计。”周瑜说：“欲行此计，必须肉体受苦。不受些苦，曹操岂肯相信!”黄盖说：“我受孙氏厚恩，虽肝脑涂地，也无怨无悔。”周瑜听了大为感动，当即向黄盖拜谢道：“君若肯行此苦肉计，乃江东生民之万幸啊!”黄盖说：“我死也无悔。”遂告别而出。
第二天，周瑜召集众将来营中聚会，诸葛亮也应邀在座。周瑜说：“曹操引百万之众南下，与我对垒。曹军非一日可破，今令诸位将领各领三个月粮草，准备御敌。”话音刚落，就见黄盖出来说道：“莫说三个月，就是三十个月粮草，也不济事。若是这个月破得了，便破；若是这个月破不得，只可依张子布之言，弃甲倒戈，北面降曹算了。”周瑜听了，不觉勃然变色，怒斥道：“我奉主公之命，督兵破曹，敢有再言降者斩。今两军相持之际，你胆敢出此谬言慢我军心，不将你处斩，难以服众。”喝令左右，将黄盖推出斩首报来。黄盖也怒骂道：“我自从跟随破虏将军以来，纵横江东，已历三代，你算什么!”周瑜更是怒不可遏，连连喝令速斩。黄盖也骂不绝口。甘宁求情道：“公覆乃东吴旧臣，望都督宽恕。”周瑜喝道：“你怎敢多言，乱我法度!”即命令左右用乱棒将甘宁打出营帐。众将官皆跪下求情道：“黄盖之罪固然该当斩首，但于军不利，望都督宽恕，权且记罪，待破曹之后，再斩也不迟。”
周瑜盛怒未息，众将官又苦苦求情，周瑜才恨恨地说道：“若不看众将官面皮，决须斩首，今且免死。”命左右将黄盖拖翻，打一百军棍，以正其罪。众将官又求饶，周瑜推翻案桌，斥退众将，喝令执行杖刑。将黄盖拖翻在地，剥了衣服，打了五十军棍，那黄盖已是皮开肉绽，气息奄奄。众位将官又苦苦求情。周瑜跳起来，指着黄盖骂道：“看你还敢不敢再小看我!权且寄下五十军棍，再有怠慢，二罪俱罚。”恨声不绝地进入帐内。
众将官把遍体鳞伤的黄盖抬回本营中，黄盖昏厥了好几次。动问之下，无不落泪。黄盖不言语，只是叹息。忽报参军阚泽来问。这阚泽口才很好，能言善辩，胆气过人，孙权召为参军，与黄盖为莫逆之交。黄盖令请入卧室，斥退左右。阚泽问道：“将军莫非与都督有仇?”黄盖回答说：“没有。”阚泽说：“那么公之受杖刑，莫非是苦肉之计乎?”黄盖说：“足下何以知道?”阚泽说：“我看今日都督与公之举动，已猜着八九分。”黄盖拉着阚泽的手说：“我受吴侯三世厚恩，无以为报，故献此计，以破曹操。我虽受苦，乃心甘情愿。我遍观全军之中，唯有足下素有忠义之心，才敢以心腹之事相告。”阚泽说：“公告诉我此事，是想让我献诈降书吗?”黄盖说：“实有此意，不知足下愿意否?”阚泽欣然允诺，说道：“大丈夫处世，应当立功建业。公既然能够捐躯报主，我阚泽又何惜此区微之身!”黄盖滚下床来，向阚泽拜谢。阚泽说：“事不迟疑，现今即可动身。”黄盖说：“诈降书我已写好了。”
阚泽拿了诈降书，当夜就扮作渔翁，驾一小船，渡到江北去，自称是东吴参军阚泽，有机密事要见曹丞相。曹操得知，便教将阚泽带进来。阚泽进入帐中，只见帐中灯火辉煌，曹操在案前正襟危坐，问道：“你既是东吴参军，深夜来此，所为何事?”阚泽见曹操既傲慢又怀疑，心想，待我用言语激他，便说道：“人言曹丞相求贤若渴，看您如此问人，哪有一点求贤若渴的样子。唉，黄公覆啊，你又寻思错了啊!”曹操说：“我正与东吴交兵，你深更半夜到此，我如何不问?”阚泽说道：“黄公覆乃东吴三世旧臣，今被周瑜在众将面前无端毒打，不胜愤怒，因此欲投降丞相，为报仇之计，特与我密谋。我与公覆情同骨肉，特意来献降书，未知丞相肯容纳否?”阚泽遂把降书呈上。
曹操拆开书信，在灯下反复看了十几次，忽然用手拍案，大怒道：“黄盖用苦肉计，派你来下诈降书，就中取事，却敢来欺诈我!”便教左右将阚泽推出斩首。左右将阚泽簇拥而下，阚泽面不改色，仰天大笑。曹操叫牵回，呵斥道：“我已识破奸计，你何故大笑?”阚泽说：“我不笑你，只是笑黄公覆不识人而已。”曹操说：“为何不识人?”阚泽说：“要杀便杀，何必多问。”曹操说：“我自幼熟读兵书，深知奸伪之道，你这条计，只能瞒别人，岂能瞒得过我!”阚泽说：“你且说书中哪件事是奸计?”曹操说：“我说出你那破绽，叫你死而无怨：你既是真心献书投降，如何不约明时间?你有何理可说?”阚泽听罢，大笑着说：“亏你不惶恐，竟敢自夸熟读兵书，还不如早早收兵回去，倘若交战，必为周瑜所擒。无学之辈，可惜我屈死于你手。”
曹操哪里容得下别人骂他是无学之辈，便说道：“何谓我无学?”阚泽说：“你不识机谋，不明道理，岂非无学!”曹操说：“你且说出我哪几般不是处?”阚泽说：“你无待贤之礼，我何必说，唯有一死而已。”曹操说：“你若说得有理，我自然敬服。”阚泽说：“你岂不闻‘背主作窃，不可定期’吗?假如现在约定时间，急切之间不得下手，你这里又来接应，事情必然泄漏。只可趁便而行，岂可预先定期。你不明此理，反而屈杀好人，正是无学之辈!”曹操听了阚泽这一番话，完全打消了心中的疑虑，于是满脸堆笑从席上走下来，向阚泽致歉，说道：“我见事不明，误犯尊威，望足下切勿挂怀。”阚泽说：“我与黄公覆倾心投降，如婴儿之望父母，岂敢有诈!”曹操大喜，说：“若二人能建大功，他日受爵，必在别人之上。”阚泽说：“我等非为爵禄而来，实是顺天应人而已。”曹操命取酒来，热情款待。阚泽以大无畏的勇气和卓越的智慧终于骗过了曹操。
不一会儿，有人进入帐中，在曹操耳边私语，曹操说：“把书信拿来我看。”这人把密书呈上，曹操看了来信，脸上露出喜色。阚泽心想：这必然是蔡中、蔡和二人来信报告黄盖受刑的消息，故曹操对我来投降已经深信不疑了。曹操对阚泽说：“有烦先生再回江东，与黄公覆约定，先通消息过江，我以兵接应。”阚泽说：“我已离开江东，不可复还，望丞相另派机密人过江去。”曹操说：“若另派他人，事情恐怕泄漏。”阚泽再三推辞，才说：“若去则不敢久留，现在就回去。”
曹操赏赐阚泽黄金、丝绸，阚泽坚决推辞不肯接受。遂辞别出营，重回江东来见黄盖，把过江之事一一向黄盖讲了。黄盖说：“若非足下能言善辩，大智大勇，黄盖这一番苦就白受了。”阚泽说：“我现在就去甘宁寨中，探听蔡中、蔡和二人的消息。”阚泽来到甘宁寨中，甘宁热情地把他接入帐中。阚泽说：“将军昨日因黄公覆之事为周公瑾所辱，我心中甚是不平。”甘宁笑而不答。正说话之间，忽见蔡中、蔡和来到。阚泽用眼神向甘宁暗示，甘宁会意，说道：“周公瑾自恃其能，全不以我等为念。我今被辱，羞见江东豪杰。”说罢咬牙切齿，拍案大叫。阚泽故意凑近甘宁耳边低语，甘宁低头不言，长叹数声。蔡中、蔡和见二人皆有反意，就用话挑逗二人，说：“将军何故烦恼?先生有何不平?”阚泽说：“我等心中之苦，你们哪里知道!”蔡和说：“莫非欲背吴投曹吗?”阚泽大惊失色，甘宁忽地起身，拔出宝剑，说：“我俩之事已被他们看破，不可不杀之以灭口。”蔡中、蔡和慌忙说：“二公无忧，我们也以心腹之事相告。”甘宁厉声说道：“快快说来。”蔡和说：“我们二人是曹公特地派来诈降的，二公若有归顺之心，我们一定引见。”甘宁说：“你说的是真话吗?”二人齐声说：“怎敢相欺!”甘宁故作欣喜的样子，说：“若如此，是天赐良机也。”二蔡说：“黄公覆与将军被辱之事，我们已向曹丞相报告了。”阚泽说：“我已为黄公覆献书给曹丞相，今特来见兴霸，相约一同投降丞相。”甘宁说：“大丈夫既遇明主，自当倾心相投。”于是四人共饮，一起讨论投降之事。二蔡也及时写信密报给曹操。信中约定：“黄盖欲来，未得其便，只要看到船头上插青龙牙旗而来的，便是黄盖之军。”
曹操得到江东密报，心中十分高兴。他登高四顾，见曹军舳橹千里，旌旗蔽空。又南望武昌，西望夏口，满以为破江南指日可待，甚觉志得意满，乃飞觞痛饮，不觉大醉，遂横槊赋诗，命众人以歌相和，歌罢开怀大笑。
周瑜与诸葛亮商议，欲破曹军，须用火攻。黄盖准备了二十只火船，船上装满了芦苇干柴，浸满鱼油，油上铺硫磺、烟硝等引火之物，外面用青油布遮盖，船头上插青龙牙旗，船后各系小船。甘宁、阚泽等在水寨中每日与蔡中、蔡和等饮酒，并对其手下军士严密监视。到总攻之日，黄盖派人前往江北与曹操相约：“周瑜关防得紧，因此无计脱身。今有鄱阳湖新运到粮草，周瑜派我巡哨，已有方便。好歹杀江东名将，献首来降。只在今晚三更，船上插青龙牙旗的，便是粮船。”曹操大喜，遂与众将来到水寨大船上，观望黄盖船到。不久就看到江南隐隐一簇船帆使风而来。报称皆插青龙牙旗，其中有一面大旗，上书先锋黄盖名字。曹操笑道：“公覆来降，此天助我也。”正说话间，黄盖之船已来到近前，忽见船上火起，火趁风威，风助火势，船如箭发，烈焰冲天。二十只火船一齐闯入曹操水寨，全部燃将起来，无一避免，直烧得满天通红。曹操回看岸上营寨，也有几处火起，心中大惊。曹操在张辽等众位将领的保护之下，落荒而逃。这一仗东吴大获全胜，曹操只得收军退回北方。这就是历史上著名的赤壁之战。战后逐渐形成了三国鼎立的局面。
《三国演义》中对这一出周瑜与曹操之间围绕反间计的相欺相诈描写得十分精彩，读来令人赏心悦目，可以称得上是中国权术史上的经典之作。两智相欺，两诈相适，你来我往，令人眼花缭乱。周瑜伪造一封蔡瑁、张允的假信赚曹操，而曹操也以蔡中、蔡和的诈降反赚周瑜，周瑜又利用二蔡的诈降再赚曹操。蔡瑁、张允其实未尝叛曹操，而曹操中计误信其反叛；曹操派蔡中、蔡和过江东诈降周瑜，而周瑜已知其非真降。曹操使蒋干游说于东吴，结果却杀了自家的得力干将；周瑜接纳对方派来的诈降之将，巧妙地利用他们使曹操相信东吴派去诈降的人。几番斗智，曹操的智谋和机巧都输给了周瑜。
周瑜的反间计是在黑夜里瞒蒋干，而黄盖的苦肉计却要在大白天里瞒众人，因为不瞒众人，就不能瞒曹操；欲瞒曹操，就必须先瞒蔡中、蔡和。黄盖当面顶撞周瑜是假，而蔡中、蔡和却相信周瑜发怒是真。黄盖献苦肉之计，若非出于黄盖自愿，周瑜岂能使黄盖行此计?周瑜本欲行苦肉之计，苦于未得其人，唯有黄盖能舍身许国，因而周瑜的苦肉计方能付诸实现。与其说这里显示的是周瑜的智谋，倒不如说显示的是黄盖的赤胆忠心。清人毛宗岗在评《三国演义》时曾有下面一段议论：
吾尝观黄盖苦肉之计，而叹其计之行，亦有天意焉!盖此计之可虑者有三：使黄盖受杖太毒而至于死，虽捐躯而无补于国事，则长逝者魂魄私恨无穷，一可虑也。使众将不知，有愤激而生变者，则弄假成真，未图彼军，而先致我军之叛，二可虑也。又使曹操惩于蒋干之被欺，拒盖之降而不纳，则黄盖徒然受刑，周瑜枉自妆乔，适为曹操所笑，三可虑也。乃黄盖不死，诸将不叛，曹操不疑，而周郎竟以此成功，岂非天哉!（《三国演义》第四十六回。）
阚泽献诈降书可说是最精彩的一幕戏。欺一般人容易，要欺奸雄却难。黄盖受杖刑，可以不死于杖刑，而阚泽献诈降书，就有可能死于诈降。而阚泽最终不仅不死，反而获得成功，就在于他掌握了说奸雄的谋略。说奸雄之法，当用激将反说而不用卑辞顺说。曹操熟读兵书，深谙智谋权术，并常常以此自负。阚泽了解曹操的这一特点，所以当曹操说识破他行诈降计时，他置生死于度外，镇定自若，当众嘲笑曹操无待贤之道，且料事不明，损伤曹操的自尊心，使他一步步落入阚泽的圈套。若曹操不知是苦肉计而欺骗他，这并不难，在曹操已经知道是苦肉计的情况下，再让他相信不是苦肉计，这才是最为困难的事。曹操的奸，更显出阚泽的巧。周瑜和黄盖的苦肉计虽然巧，假如没有阚泽的巧和大智大勇，再巧的计也是枉然。 所以有了巧计，还得有行巧计之人。
《诈降计》
http://book.sina.com.cn 2007年03月27日 00:17
连载:机变诡异的中国古代权术 作者：秦学颀 出版社:广西人民出版社
赤壁之战战场遗址在赤壁之战前，周瑜与曹操展开了一场以诈降计为中心的十分精彩的谋略战。曹操中了周瑜的反间计，误杀蔡瑁和张允，嘴上不说，心里实在懊恼。幕僚荀攸说：“时下孙刘结盟，急切难破。派人去东吴诈降，以为内应，暗通消息，等待时机，一举破敌。”曹操说：“足下此言，正合我意，你认为军中谁可以施行此计?”荀攸说：“蔡瑁被诛，蔡氏宗族皆在军中。蔡瑁的族弟蔡中、蔡和现为副将，丞相可以厚恩笼络，派二人去东吴诈降，东吴肯定不会怀疑。”曹操采纳了荀攸的计谋，当夜便把二蔡唤入帐内，对他们说：“你们二人可引少量军士前去东吴诈降，但有动静，即来密报，事成之后，一定重加封赏，切切无生二心。”蔡中、蔡和说：“我们二人妻子俱在荆州，怎敢怀有二心，请丞相无疑，我们二人过江，必取周瑜、诸葛亮之首级献于麾下。”曹操对二人厚加赏赐。第二天，蔡中、蔡和二人即带领五百军士渡过长江，来到东吴投降。
周瑜听说是蔡瑁的族弟蔡中、蔡和来投降，即命传二人进见。二人一见周瑜，便哭拜在地，说：“吾兄无罪，无故为曹贼所杀，我们二人欲报兄仇，特来投降，望都督收录，愿为前部。”周瑜大喜，重赏了二人，即命在甘宁军中为前部。二人拜谢出帐，以为周瑜中计，心中暗喜。周瑜把甘宁秘密唤来吩咐道：“此二人不带家小，绝非真正投降，一定是曹操派来做奸细的。我欲将计就计，正好叫他们为我通报消息。你对二人要殷勤相待，暗中提防，切需小心，不得有误。”甘宁领命而去。甘宁刚走，鲁肃来见周瑜，说：“蔡中、蔡和投降，多半是诈，不可收用。”周瑜斥责道：“二人因曹操杀其兄，欲报仇而来投降，何诈之有!你若如此多疑，怎能容天下人士?”鲁肃默然而退，到诸葛亮处告知此事。诸葛亮笑着说：“此乃公瑾将计就计也。”鲁肃方才醒悟。
当天晚上，周瑜正在帐中，忽见黄盖悄悄来到。周瑜问道：“公覆夜至，必有良谋赐教?”黄盖说：“敌众我寡，不宜久持，何不用火攻之?”周瑜说：“是谁教公献此计的?”黄盖说：“此计乃出自己意，并非他人所教。”周瑜说：“我也正欲如此，故留蔡中、蔡和这两个诈降之人以通消息。但我现在苦恼的是没有一个合适的人为我行诈降之计。”黄盖说：“我愿行此计。”周瑜说：“欲行此计，必须肉体受苦。不受些苦，曹操岂肯相信!”黄盖说：“我受孙氏厚恩，虽肝脑涂地，也无怨无悔。”周瑜听了大为感动，当即向黄盖拜谢道：“君若肯行此苦肉计，乃江东生民之万幸啊!”黄盖说：“我死也无悔。”遂告别而出。
第二天，周瑜召集众将来营中聚会，诸葛亮也应邀在座。周瑜说：“曹操引百万之众南下，与我对垒。曹军非一日可破，今令诸位将领各领三个月粮草，准备御敌。”话音刚落，就见黄盖出来说道：“莫说三个月，就是三十个月粮草，也不济事。若是这个月破得了，便破；若是这个月破不得，只可依张子布之言，弃甲倒戈，北面降曹算了。”周瑜听了，不觉勃然变色，怒斥道：“我奉主公之命，督兵破曹，敢有再言降者斩。今两军相持之际，你胆敢出此谬言慢我军心，不将你处斩，难以服众。”喝令左右，将黄盖推出斩首报来。黄盖也怒骂道：“我自从跟随破虏将军以来，纵横江东，已历三代，你算什么!”周瑜更是怒不可遏，连连喝令速斩。黄盖也骂不绝口。甘宁求情道：“公覆乃东吴旧臣，望都督宽恕。”周瑜喝道：“你怎敢多言，乱我法度!”即命令左右用乱棒将甘宁打出营帐。众将官皆跪下求情道：“黄盖之罪固然该当斩首，但于军不利，望都督宽恕，权且记罪，待破曹之后，再斩也不迟。”
周瑜盛怒未息，众将官又苦苦求情，周瑜才恨恨地说道：“若不看众将官面皮，决须斩首，今且免死。”命左右将黄盖拖翻，打一百军棍，以正其罪。众将官又求饶，周瑜推翻案桌，斥退众将，喝令执行杖刑。将黄盖拖翻在地，剥了衣服，打了五十军棍，那黄盖已是皮开肉绽，气息奄奄。众位将官又苦苦求情。周瑜跳起来，指着黄盖骂道：“看你还敢不敢再小看我!权且寄下五十军棍，再有怠慢，二罪俱罚。”恨声不绝地进入帐内。
众将官把遍体鳞伤的黄盖抬回本营中，黄盖昏厥了好几次。动问之下，无不落泪。黄盖不言语，只是叹息。忽报参军阚泽来问。这阚泽口才很好，能言善辩，胆气过人，孙权召为参军，与黄盖为莫逆之交。黄盖令请入卧室，斥退左右。阚泽问道：“将军莫非与都督有仇?”黄盖回答说：“没有。”阚泽说：“那么公之受杖刑，莫非是苦肉之计乎?”黄盖说：“足下何以知道?”阚泽说：“我看今日都督与公之举动，已猜着八九分。”黄盖拉着阚泽的手说：“我受吴侯三世厚恩，无以为报，故献此计，以破曹操。我虽受苦，乃心甘情愿。我遍观全军之中，唯有足下素有忠义之心，才敢以心腹之事相告。”阚泽说：“公告诉我此事，是想让我献诈降书吗?”黄盖说：“实有此意，不知足下愿意否?”阚泽欣然允诺，说道：“大丈夫处世，应当立功建业。公既然能够捐躯报主，我阚泽又何惜此区微之身!”黄盖滚下床来，向阚泽拜谢。阚泽说：“事不迟疑，现今即可动身。”黄盖说：“诈降书我已写好了。”
阚泽拿了诈降书，当夜就扮作渔翁，驾一小船，渡到江北去，自称是东吴参军阚泽，有机密事要见曹丞相。曹操得知，便教将阚泽带进来。阚泽进入帐中，只见帐中灯火辉煌，曹操在案前正襟危坐，问道：“你既是东吴参军，深夜来此，所为何事?”阚泽见曹操既傲慢又怀疑，心想，待我用言语激他，便说道：“人言曹丞相求贤若渴，看您如此问人，哪有一点求贤若渴的样子。唉，黄公覆啊，你又寻思错了啊!”曹操说：“我正与东吴交兵，你深更半夜到此，我如何不问?”阚泽说道：“黄公覆乃东吴三世旧臣，今被周瑜在众将面前无端毒打，不胜愤怒，因此欲投降丞相，为报仇之计，特与我密谋。我与公覆情同骨肉，特意来献降书，未知丞相肯容纳否?”阚泽遂把降书呈上。
曹操拆开书信，在灯下反复看了十几次，忽然用手拍案，大怒道：“黄盖用苦肉计，派你来下诈降书，就中取事，却敢来欺诈我!”便教左右将阚泽推出斩首。左右将阚泽簇拥而下，阚泽面不改色，仰天大笑。曹操叫牵回，呵斥道：“我已识破奸计，你何故大笑?”阚泽说：“我不笑你，只是笑黄公覆不识人而已。”曹操说：“为何不识人?”阚泽说：“要杀便杀，何必多问。”曹操说：“我自幼熟读兵书，深知奸伪之道，你这条计，只能瞒别人，岂能瞒得过我!”阚泽说：“你且说书中哪件事是奸计?”曹操说：“我说出你那破绽，叫你死而无怨：你既是真心献书投降，如何不约明时间?你有何理可说?”阚泽听罢，大笑着说：“亏你不惶恐，竟敢自夸熟读兵书，还不如早早收兵回去，倘若交战，必为周瑜所擒。无学之辈，可惜我屈死于你手。”
曹操哪里容得下别人骂他是无学之辈，便说道：“何谓我无学?”阚泽说：“你不识机谋，不明道理，岂非无学!”曹操说：“你且说出我哪几般不是处?”阚泽说：“你无待贤之礼，我何必说，唯有一死而已。”曹操说：“你若说得有理，我自然敬服。”阚泽说：“你岂不闻‘背主作窃，不可定期’吗?假如现在约定时间，急切之间不得下手，你这里又来接应，事情必然泄漏。只可趁便而行，岂可预先定期。你不明此理，反而屈杀好人，正是无学之辈!”曹操听了阚泽这一番话，完全打消了心中的疑虑，于是满脸堆笑从席上走下来，向阚泽致歉，说道：“我见事不明，误犯尊威，望足下切勿挂怀。”阚泽说：“我与黄公覆倾心投降，如婴儿之望父母，岂敢有诈!”曹操大喜，说：“若二人能建大功，他日受爵，必在别人之上。”阚泽说：“我等非为爵禄而来，实是顺天应人而已。”曹操命取酒来，热情款待。阚泽以大无畏的勇气和卓越的智慧终于骗过了曹操。
不一会儿，有人进入帐中，在曹操耳边私语，曹操说：“把书信拿来我看。”这人把密书呈上，曹操看了来信，脸上露出喜色。阚泽心想：这必然是蔡中、蔡和二人来信报告黄盖受刑的消息，故曹操对我来投降已经深信不疑了。曹操对阚泽说：“有烦先生再回江东，与黄公覆约定，先通消息过江，我以兵接应。”阚泽说：“我已离开江东，不可复还，望丞相另派机密人过江去。”曹操说：“若另派他人，事情恐怕泄漏。”阚泽再三推辞，才说：“若去则不敢久留，现在就回去。”
曹操赏赐阚泽黄金、丝绸，阚泽坚决推辞不肯接受。遂辞别出营，重回江东来见黄盖，把过江之事一一向黄盖讲了。黄盖说：“若非足下能言善辩，大智大勇，黄盖这一番苦就白受了。”阚泽说：“我现在就去甘宁寨中，探听蔡中、蔡和二人的消息。”阚泽来到甘宁寨中，甘宁热情地把他接入帐中。阚泽说：“将军昨日因黄公覆之事为周公瑾所辱，我心中甚是不平。”甘宁笑而不答。正说话之间，忽见蔡中、蔡和来到。阚泽用眼神向甘宁暗示，甘宁会意，说道：“周公瑾自恃其能，全不以我等为念。我今被辱，羞见江东豪杰。”说罢咬牙切齿，拍案大叫。阚泽故意凑近甘宁耳边低语，甘宁低头不言，长叹数声。蔡中、蔡和见二人皆有反意，就用话挑逗二人，说：“将军何故烦恼?先生有何不平?”阚泽说：“我等心中之苦，你们哪里知道!”蔡和说：“莫非欲背吴投曹吗?”阚泽大惊失色，甘宁忽地起身，拔出宝剑，说：“我俩之事已被他们看破，不可不杀之以灭口。”蔡中、蔡和慌忙说：“二公无忧，我们也以心腹之事相告。”甘宁厉声说道：“快快说来。”蔡和说：“我们二人是曹公特地派来诈降的，二公若有归顺之心，我们一定引见。”甘宁说：“你说的是真话吗?”二人齐声说：“怎敢相欺!”甘宁故作欣喜的样子，说：“若如此，是天赐良机也。”二蔡说：“黄公覆与将军被辱之事，我们已向曹丞相报告了。”阚泽说：“我已为黄公覆献书给曹丞相，今特来见兴霸，相约一同投降丞相。”甘宁说：“大丈夫既遇明主，自当倾心相投。”于是四人共饮，一起讨论投降之事。二蔡也及时写信密报给曹操。信中约定：“黄盖欲来，未得其便，只要看到船头上插青龙牙旗而来的，便是黄盖之军。”
曹操得到江东密报，心中十分高兴。他登高四顾，见曹军舳橹千里，旌旗蔽空。又南望武昌，西望夏口，满以为破江南指日可待，甚觉志得意满，乃飞觞痛饮，不觉大醉，遂横槊赋诗，命众人以歌相和，歌罢开怀大笑。
周瑜与诸葛亮商议，欲破曹军，须用火攻。黄盖准备了二十只火船，船上装满了芦苇干柴，浸满鱼油，油上铺硫磺、烟硝等引火之物，外面用青油布遮盖，船头上插青龙牙旗，船后各系小船。甘宁、阚泽等在水寨中每日与蔡中、蔡和等饮酒，并对其手下军士严密监视。到总攻之日，黄盖派人前往江北与曹操相约：“周瑜关防得紧，因此无计脱身。今有鄱阳湖新运到粮草，周瑜派我巡哨，已有方便。好歹杀江东名将，献首来降。只在今晚三更，船上插青龙牙旗的，便是粮船。”曹操大喜，遂与众将来到水寨大船上，观望黄盖船到。不久就看到江南隐隐一簇船帆使风而来。报称皆插青龙牙旗，其中有一面大旗，上书先锋黄盖名字。曹操笑道：“公覆来降，此天助我也。”正说话间，黄盖之船已来到近前，忽见船上火起，火趁风威，风助火势，船如箭发，烈焰冲天。二十只火船一齐闯入曹操水寨，全部燃将起来，无一避免，直烧得满天通红。曹操回看岸上营寨，也有几处火起，心中大惊。曹操在张辽等众位将领的保护之下，落荒而逃。这一仗东吴大获全胜，曹操只得收军退回北方。这就是历史上著名的赤壁之战。战后逐渐形成了三国鼎立的局面。
《三国演义》中对这一出周瑜与曹操之间围绕反间计的相欺相诈描写得十分精彩，读来令人赏心悦目，可以称得上是中国权术史上的经典之作。两智相欺，两诈相适，你来我往，令人眼花缭乱。周瑜伪造一封蔡瑁、张允的假信赚曹操，而曹操也以蔡中、蔡和的诈降反赚周瑜，周瑜又利用二蔡的诈降再赚曹操。蔡瑁、张允其实未尝叛曹操，而曹操中计误信其反叛；曹操派蔡中、蔡和过江东诈降周瑜，而周瑜已知其非真降。曹操使蒋干游说于东吴，结果却杀了自家的得力干将；周瑜接纳对方派来的诈降之将，巧妙地利用他们使曹操相信东吴派去诈降的人。几番斗智，曹操的智谋和机巧都输给了周瑜。
周瑜的反间计是在黑夜里瞒蒋干，而黄盖的苦肉计却要在大白天里瞒众人，因为不瞒众人，就不能瞒曹操；欲瞒曹操，就必须先瞒蔡中、蔡和。黄盖当面顶撞周瑜是假，而蔡中、蔡和却相信周瑜发怒是真。黄盖献苦肉之计，若非出于黄盖自愿，周瑜岂能使黄盖行此计?周瑜本欲行苦肉之计，苦于未得其人，唯有黄盖能舍身许国，因而周瑜的苦肉计方能付诸实现。与其说这里显示的是周瑜的智谋，倒不如说显示的是黄盖的赤胆忠心。清人毛宗岗在评《三国演义》时曾有下面一段议论：
吾尝观黄盖苦肉之计，而叹其计之行，亦有天意焉!盖此计之可虑者有三：使黄盖受杖太毒而至于死，虽捐躯而无补于国事，则长逝者魂魄私恨无穷，一可虑也。使众将不知，有愤激而生变者，则弄假成真，未图彼军，而先致我军之叛，二可虑也。又使曹操惩于蒋干之被欺，拒盖之降而不纳，则黄盖徒然受刑，周瑜枉自妆乔，适为曹操所笑，三可虑也。乃黄盖不死，诸将不叛，曹操不疑，而周郎竟以此成功，岂非天哉!（《三国演义》第四十六回。）
阚泽献诈降书可说是最精彩的一幕戏。欺一般人容易，要欺奸雄却难。黄盖受杖刑，可以不死于杖刑，而阚泽献诈降书，就有可能死于诈降。而阚泽最终不仅不死，反而获得成功，就在于他掌握了说奸雄的谋略。说奸雄之法，当用激将反说而不用卑辞顺说。曹操熟读兵书，深谙智谋权术，并常常以此自负。阚泽了解曹操的这一特点，所以当曹操说识破他行诈降计时，他置生死于度外，镇定自若，当众嘲笑曹操无待贤之道，且料事不明，损伤曹操的自尊心，使他一步步落入阚泽的圈套。若曹操不知是苦肉计而欺骗他，这并不难，在曹操已经知道是苦肉计的情况下，再让他相信不是苦肉计，这才是最为困难的事。曹操的奸，更显出阚泽的巧。周瑜和黄盖的苦肉计虽然巧，假如没有阚泽的巧和大智大勇，再巧的计也是枉然。 所以有了巧计，还得有行巧计之人。
I was drinking coke and suddenly thought of a very funny incident that Nana recounted to me.
... ...
Hua and Na were queuing up at the canteen to buy the fried chicken. Considering that we have break at 12 noon on Thursday, the fried chicken, unfortunately, was sold out.
Hua: *Shaking Nana's shoulders madly* 卖完了卖完了！炸鸡排卖完了！awwww *shake shake shake*
Nana: @@@@@@
Mr Lo (standing behind the two of them): what's 卖完了？
................
Wencong: 卖完了means sold out...
Mr Lo: I know what's 卖完了！I'm asking what has 卖完了？
Hua: *无比怨恨* Fried Chicken...
Mr Lo: *calmly bought a packet of popcorn chicken and walked away*
-----------------------------------
Thanks people, for bringing laughter and joy to me (and the clique) every day. Sometimes life's really hard with the never ending tutorials and the often less-than-perfect grades, but because you all are here that I can welcome each day with a BIG smile and sometimes even choke on coffee cos I was laughing too hard. Hardly a day goes by without us laughing non-stop, I think half the guys in the class thought that we (or I) are crazy cos we laugh so much.
JC life has been full of ups and downs, and sometimes I think that I am really a failure cos I can't perform to my expectations. And sometimes I think that life would be a hell lot better if I had gone for SMTP instead; even if I dont get in I would still probably get into a very good physics class like the rest of my former classmates did. I mean, I was the highest scorer in physics other than the scholars and xin hui! haha:p
In other classes the mugger-ness would have been stronger and I being the slack one would be pushed and still perform at the upper 50th percentile of the class. But I have never regretted that I took CLEP and came to s67, because I met the whole gang of you and I have enjoyed fun more than ever. I have always said that people who still have the guts to take Chinese Lit at JC are not conventional persons and they are definitely not normal; perhaps it is because of this that we are able to glue together so well! The bond that we share is not matched by any other class and we certainly do not clique together cos we have to clique, *ahem like some people haha*.
... ...
Hua and Na were queuing up at the canteen to buy the fried chicken. Considering that we have break at 12 noon on Thursday, the fried chicken, unfortunately, was sold out.
Hua: *Shaking Nana's shoulders madly* 卖完了卖完了！炸鸡排卖完了！awwww *shake shake shake*
Nana: @@@@@@
Mr Lo (standing behind the two of them): what's 卖完了？
................
Wencong: 卖完了means sold out...
Mr Lo: I know what's 卖完了！I'm asking what has 卖完了？
Hua: *无比怨恨* Fried Chicken...
Mr Lo: *calmly bought a packet of popcorn chicken and walked away*
-----------------------------------
Thanks people, for bringing laughter and joy to me (and the clique) every day. Sometimes life's really hard with the never ending tutorials and the often less-than-perfect grades, but because you all are here that I can welcome each day with a BIG smile and sometimes even choke on coffee cos I was laughing too hard. Hardly a day goes by without us laughing non-stop, I think half the guys in the class thought that we (or I) are crazy cos we laugh so much.
JC life has been full of ups and downs, and sometimes I think that I am really a failure cos I can't perform to my expectations. And sometimes I think that life would be a hell lot better if I had gone for SMTP instead; even if I dont get in I would still probably get into a very good physics class like the rest of my former classmates did. I mean, I was the highest scorer in physics other than the scholars and xin hui! haha:p
In other classes the mugger-ness would have been stronger and I being the slack one would be pushed and still perform at the upper 50th percentile of the class. But I have never regretted that I took CLEP and came to s67, because I met the whole gang of you and I have enjoyed fun more than ever. I have always said that people who still have the guts to take Chinese Lit at JC are not conventional persons and they are definitely not normal; perhaps it is because of this that we are able to glue together so well! The bond that we share is not matched by any other class and we certainly do not clique together cos we have to clique, *ahem like some people haha*.
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