最近在一个网站上搜寻其他的日语学校的时候，看到离家骑车能到的地方有个日语学习的场所，居然是无料的！因为时间是在周四，刚好在我现在日语学习时间中间，所以就很想去看看。结果上周三晚上做梦，梦到在这个日语学校被大妈大伯围攻，周四吓得就找了个借口出去拍照了，想来还真是可笑，不知道是不是因为是个“无料”的学习场所所以焦虑起来。Anyway，到了这周，我现在班上的同学也很好奇这个学校，我又信誓旦旦地说，“我先去，如果是trap我回来跟你们通报”，所以只能硬着头皮杀过去。

到了这个志愿者学校，一看就很放心——全是欧巴桑。跟接待的欧巴桑神侃几句，被归到一个中级班，班上除了我只有一个菲律宾的妹妹。虽然叫妹妹，但是小孩一岁半了，上课途中经常自己啪嗒啪嗒就不知跑哪里去了。所谓的上课其实就是一个欧巴桑陪我们聊天。不知道是不是因为强调了我们要练口语，欧巴桑语速飞快地神侃，家里的猫猫狗狗，长男次男，过敏哮喘，歌舞伎艺伎，全聊遍了。我也厚着脸皮，把人间天堂故乡杭州吹个天花乱坠，弄得欧巴桑一直说以后一定要去。日本人喜欢一边讲话一边点头，加上欧巴桑语速超快，我一边自己很失控地猛点头，一边看着欧巴桑点头，整个人感觉都要缺氧起来。

    下了课，居然有茶点时间！一堆人一边吃吃喝喝，一边一起聊天。因为我是第一次来，要向大家做自我介绍。介绍完就听一个中国大叔在一旁用日语说“美女美女”（中国人这个见谁都是张口美女的习惯果然很根深蒂固），然后欧巴桑一边搭腔说“残念残念，人家结婚了呢”，弄得我汗流满面。

    总的来说，真是好玩的地方。我的噩梦就这样开开心心地化解了。

The revolution that the "aroused consciousness" of women is bringing about in our society has been the concern of scores of novels in recent years. "The Summer Before the Dark" is by far the best to date. In it, Doris Lessing tells of a London woman who, at the age of 45, finds herself, with her children grown and her husband consumed in business, unneeded. After a try at keeping herself occupied with a small job, she goes off on a harrowing trip to Spain with a younger man, then forms a friendship with another woman. Each experience brings her closer to understanding herself and ultimately enables her to face up to the frightening possibilities of independence. In naming "The Summer Before the Dark" one of 1973's outstanding books, the editors of the Book Review declared that "it confirms that Doris Lessing is a plain-speaking, somewhat awkward but immensely attractive master of modern fiction."

By ROGER SALE October, 13, 1974

Reading Doris Lessing is nothing like reading Stephanie Meyer, Nicholas Sparks or even J.K Rowling, though the latter three excel in other aspects in their unique way. The experiences are different in the sense that you are probably not in for a smooth ride when you read Doris Lessing. The flow of the thoughts of the heroine is laden with the painful, sometimes suffocating search for her own identity, complicated by the psychological metaphor and intensified by the cruelty of the reality.

Though the story is about a woman of the age of 45, one has no trouble relating to her when she struggles between two roles, one the respectable, always pleasant, loving, caring upper-middle class lady, the role, in a word, she is supposed to present to the society, and the one that is invisible to the outer world without the proper adornment to reveal her body line or hide the gray band in her hair. One has to put down the book and contemplate: between the two roles, one exhausting yet admirable, one despicable yet truthful, is there a middle ground for one to be at ease with oneself and at peace with the world?