马男波杰克 第五季

1 凝视理论和性别平权

在第一集中，吉娜批评菲尔伯特中的女性裸体戏和萨茜无脑人设为“男性凝视”（male-gazing），于是马男用学会的新词，用来跟编剧叫板，却适得其反，也被拍了裸戏。

此处字幕将male gaze(y) 译成“物化女性”

let's give women something to gaze

那么，什么是男性凝视？

男性凝视的概念最初是由女权主义电影评论家劳拉·马尔维（Laura Mulvey）在文章“视觉快乐和叙事电影”（1975）中提出的，其中她提出性别之间的权力不对称是电影中的控制力量;男性凝视是为了男性观众的快乐而构建的，这种观点深深植根于父权制的意识形态和话语中。

在相机将观察者置于异性恋男人的视角中时，他的视线徘徊在女人身体的曲线上，女性成为为电影故事中角色或电影的男性观众的色情对象。通过在男性凝视中，男性成为电影幻想中的主导力量，其中女性是男性观众主动凝视的被动对象。男性凝视优先于女性凝视反映了两性之间社会和政治权力的潜在不对称。”

而与男性凝视对立的是女性凝视。在此类电影中女性成为一个叙事故事讲述者，而不是一个对象。这些电影旨在代表女性主角的欲望，因此，代表女性电影观众的欲望。

但是女性凝视是不正常的，只要想象把文艺复兴时期绘画里面的绘画中女性换成男性就能明白。

自行脑补三秒……

然而这个正常的正是男性凝视不正常之处：无论是男性个体还是由这些个体创造的机构，都有能力决定什么是“自然的”。 随着时间的推移，这些构建的信念开始显得“自然”或“正常”，因为它们是流行的并且没有受到挑战。

那么，当波杰克拍裸戏时，就是对性别的“正常”一种挑战与抗争。

果真如此吗？

戴安不这么想。即使影视作品将女性作为欲望主体，究竟能改变什么？为什么必须是女性来对抗这一切？抗争是否一种精力的浪费？

女性凝视的电影给了女性自己是主体的幻像，而当幕布落下，她依然必须面对现实世界中的种种不公。

（戴安新发型好评）

波杰克并不理解女权，但是在第四集中，他却成了人人喜爱的女权主义者。让戴安不能理解的是，当她为女权发声时，没有人会听，而当马男说出同样的话，所有人都称赞他的勇敢。当名人说自己不反对女权主义时，又多少是出于政治正确，而不是真正的共情和理解？

这种双重标准让我不禁联想到国内对“田园女权”的指责：不知多少男性指责者真的就比所谓田园女权了解更多女权理论呢？

“谁在乎你怎么想，我说我是女权主义者那我TM就是！”

性别平权运动本质上是极其复杂的。

性侵或家暴受害者即使发声，也未必就能解决问题。比如，吉娜就是这样。

当马男发现自己对吉娜施暴后，他本来想坦白一切，说出自己做了什么，但是吉娜阻止了他。“人们终于通过我的表演认识了我，我不想成为那个被波杰克掐过脖子的女孩。我不想让你成为发生在我身上的最广为人知的事情。我不想让你成为人们在采访我时所有问题的焦点。我想让这事快快结束。”

她恨极了波杰克，但是她不想在公众眼中永远做一个受害者，而非一个演员，一个独立的人。于是她选择了沉默。

编剧曾被问及：很多在温斯坦之后发声的人并不一定那么有名，现在所有人关注的就是她们的被虐待经历，吉娜这个角色是否与这类事情有关？

他的回答是：

这非常可怕。我厌恶那些人，他们以为这些女性讲述关于虐待的故事是为了能够成名。没有一个例子可以证明那是可行的。我不认为这就是为什么有人会这样做的原因。事实上，完全相反，这是她们不这样做的原因。我明白为什么一个女人会想要对她的故事保持沉默，这是非常悲伤的。”

的确是悲伤的。她们生活在要么隐忍着痛苦，要么职业受挫还被人误解污蔑的困境中。

而从性侵者的角度来看，问题变得更加复杂。

作为一个马男波杰克的万年粉，我是喜欢他的，虽然他做过让人讨厌的事情，但是他毕竟是一匹丧得可爱的马。

这并不能掩盖他是一个施暴者的事实。

在第五季中，戴安对费尔伯特的批评也是我一直以来对马男波杰克这部剧的疑问：难道施暴者的内心痛苦就能减轻他的罪行吗？用这一点为自己的糟糕行为辩护是否正当呢？他们应该成为我们同情的对象吗（比如杀人的滴滴司机）？

戴安的回答是：看看受害者。看看萨拉琳，看看那个杭州女孩，她们已经死了。

这句话是残忍的，无论是对戴安还是观众。但是这是看马男时不能忘记的一点。

相比之下，陶德的支线故事就轻松愉快多了。但是他作为无性恋人群的故事，也提出了很严肃的问题：社会倾向于把少数群体无差别地带着刻板印象去看待，忽略了TA们也是立体的有个性的人。

陶德和尤兰达虽然同样是无性恋者，却除此之外并无任何共同点：一个充满不切实际的梦想，一个理性而实际，最后两人和平分手。

陶德提出分手

这就引出了交互性（intersectionality）的问题。

社会的压力来自各个方面，每一个边缘人的处境也不尽相同，所以，我们应该综合地考虑这些因素，毕竟少数群体也是普通人。

说句题外话，我也认识一位无性恋者。

我们在一个纽约州的小镇散步，偶然看到一户门上挂着彩虹旗的人家。她说：“看，gay flag！” 我随口说：“也说不定是女同呢。”

于是她问我：“这个问题可能有些私人，但是你是直女吗？”

“应该是吧，不过我还在questioning……” 我很惊讶，一是发现自己从来没仔细想过这个问题，二是好奇她为什么会问这个问题。（不过两年后的今天，如果有人问我这个问题，我可以很肯定地说我不是。）

“唔，我是无性恋。我从来没有对任何人产生过性欲。” 她平静地说。

我们从此之后不再那么频繁地见面了，尽管我非常喜欢她：她是我见过最喜欢猫和狗的人，管狗叫pupper，她还喜欢玩电子游戏和画画。她母亲是杭州人，父亲是德国人。她很可爱。

想到这些，我总是觉得很可惜：如果我放下那点可悲的矜持，如果我能更了解全部的她，那该多好。

2 美国的鸦片类药物危机（opioid cricis）

注意床头柜上的药瓶

波杰克此次的药物成瘾与此前纯粹的娱乐不同。第五集中PC在老家无法照顾片场，导致波杰克发生了事故，从楼顶摔下，摔伤背部。从在医院接受治疗时起，他才开始服用一种棕色小瓶里的止痛片。

疑似波杰克服用的止痛片oxycodone

如果不是参加过一次关于止痛片滥用的辩论并做过这方面的研究（当时的辩题是：是否应该像对待毒贩一样严罚开过量阿片类药物处方的医生），如果不是在夏校时宿舍楼里有人吸毒昏迷被送去医院，我也不会注意到这个细节。

在我们指责波杰克的种种不堪时，也不要忽略了这个（在美国）由来已久的严重社会问题：鸦片类药物泛滥（opioid epidemic）。

合成类鸦片类药物如芬太尼（fentanyl）和羟二氢可待因酮（oxycodone）属于针对慢性疼痛的合法药物，比如波杰克的背痛。这些药的成瘾率相当于海洛因，高于吗啡，但是却被广泛地通过正规渠道贩卖给病人。

“正规药物”

早在1996年，制药公司Purdue Pharma声称OxyContin虽然比其他止痛药强大得多，但由于其缓释化学配方而不那么容易上瘾。许多医生相信了OxyContin神话并受到制药公司提供的津贴的鼓舞（这些制药公司在2000年花费了令人难以置信的40.4亿美元的直接营销。）

在服用这些药物的人群中，百分之二十七误用药物，百分之八到十二产生了神经紊乱。药物滥用的症状包括：将阿片类药物与酒精或某些其他药物相结合，每日服用高剂量的阿片类药物，服用非法的阿片类药物，如海洛因或非法制造的芬太尼。这些症状波杰克都有了。

合理用量大约在三小时一粒，波杰克是整瓶往嘴里倒……

受害的不只波杰克一人。

根据美国疾病控制中心的数据，去年美国毒品过量导致超过72,000人死亡 - 这是由致命的阿片类药物流行引起的新记录。 疾病预防控制中心估计，2017年有72,287人因过量服用而死亡，比前一年增加了约10％。

根据新数据，大部分死亡人数 - 近49,000人 - 是由阿片类药物引起的。 最大的驱动因素是合成阿片类芬太尼，它杀死了超过29,000人，其次是海洛因和其他毒品。 越来越多的过量药物使得这种药物大流行比枪支暴力，汽车碰撞或艾滋病更致命，这些暴力事件在一年内从未杀死过多少人。2017年，每天有近200人因过量服用而死亡。

波杰克已经在尝试着戒酒，他却深陷于这些药丸中，如果没有那个事故，他本可以开始新的生活。

——真的吗？

自然，有他自己的问题。

他需要麻醉自己，这样内心才能稍微好受一些，但是无论是靠酒精，海洛因还是止痛片，他永远逃不脱的唯有自己。

"It's you."

他唯一能改变的，只有承认自己需要帮助。于是在全剧结尾，他去戒毒所寻求帮助。他终于做到了这件几十年都没有完成的事。虽然他自己也担心也许一切依然不会好起来，但是这小小的努力意味着他至少有可能恢复。

因为如果不能改变自己，至少也要直面。这是改变的第一步。

这一点适用于所有的瘾君子。

3 荒诞/符号学

想必大多数观众都对第六集中波杰的独白佩服得五体投地。

当马男平静地讲述自己在汉堡店的日常经历时，没人能猜到他此时是在母亲的葬礼上致悼词。他这种平静，不禁让人马上想起《局外人》的开头：“母亲死了，也许是昨天，我不知道。”

同样与加缪的《局外人》暗合的，还有这一集中数不清的让人心碎的荒诞：

母亲死了，波杰克的生活却一如既往，唯一不同的是他有理由对陌生人的客套说出自己的真实感受，还有汉堡店送的一份免费油条。

更讽刺的是，棺材里甚至都不是碧翠丝真正的身体，波杰克走错了葬礼厅。

一切都如梦一般荒谬，连葬礼是一场闹剧。而在马男充满闹剧的生命终点，又有谁会缅怀真正的他呢？死者已逝，生者也终有一死。母亲的死提醒了波杰克：人都是要死的，你是下一个。死亡就是生命无意义的最好的证明。

马男在讲台上对棺材说话：“妈妈，你有什么想说的吗？如果你为我骄傲，请敲一下棺材板。”他习惯了母亲的喋喋不休，仍然等待着回答——即使现在，他还在等待，等待着迟来的哪怕一点点母爱。意识到这一点，他愤怒对母亲喊道：我是你儿子啊，我只有你了！

然而所有这些痛苦与期待随着妈妈的死戛然而止，一切都突如其来，毫无道理。

这一刻的寂静是可怕的。

如加缪所说：

世界逃脱了我们，再次显现出自己的本色。那些惯于蒙面的背景又恢复了本来面目，远离我们而去。”

面对像我们所有人一样，马男想给每件微小的细节赋予意义。他的悼词围绕对母亲遗言的阐释展开：“有那么一刻，当一切突然陷入诡异的平静，她望向我说：我看见你了(I see you)。没有批评，没有失望，只有接受。”

这话既可能是对波杰克的认可，也可能是对空中马男父亲幻影所说的，更有可能的，是她在读重症监护室里ICU三个字母。

但最绝望的是，她已经死了，没有人会知道她到底说的是什么。

索绪尔的符号学提出，语言与由所指和能指组成。声音是能指（signifier），而其代表的事物则是所指（signified）。词语可以映射物体，就像当你说到苹果这个词语，我们自然就能想到苹果这一事物，因此一切都存在普遍的映射关系。

索绪尔理论

伊丽莎白一世在临终之时摸了摸自己的头，她这是在表达什么意思呢？她希望传达什么样的信息呢？这到底意味着她在指定詹姆斯一世作为自己的继承人，还是说这仅仅只是代表她死前正在头疼？

在这里，伊丽莎白一世的手势，就成为了一个典型的空洞的能指。它意味着某种东西，它生成了某种意义，我们认为，它应该在对应一个所指，它一定是有其内在的深刻含义的。但是，伊丽莎白已经死了，我们要怎么询问她呢？这个能指的意义又到底是什么呢？

意义，总是要经由能指链条的运动而得到的，或者简单来说，我们对意义的感觉，总是通过“解释”而生产的，因此当你提到一个能指，它其实并不会真正对应所指，它只会让你解释它自己，这个过程中你不断召唤出更多的能指，并形成了一个动态的能指链条。是能指链条带给我们意义的感受。

不过，能指链条也会存在扭曲和断裂的时候，比如那个死掉的伊丽莎白，在我们看来，死亡导致了她一生能指链条的断裂，让我们不能了解到她摸头的动作究竟在表达什么意思……每个人的死亡都是一个能指链条的断裂。”

碧翠丝的遗言也像伊丽莎白的手势一般，是这样一个所指链断裂。她的存在产生了缺口，她不再能解释自己的话，于是没有人能知道她在生命的结束时的所思所想。她是真的在读ICU的牌子吗？

在这个荒凉的世界上，人与人之间唯一的联系——语言，本质上也如此脆弱，如此不可靠，如此不堪一击。

从这个意义上讲，人注定孤独。

即使母亲没有死，马男也是无依无靠的。

费尔伯特编剧的办公室（E4），注意上图中红圈中的英文“尼采”和左侧白板上对尼采的引用：“你若长久地看着深渊，深渊也会凝视你。”以及下面的恶搞：“你若趁深渊心不在焉时足够快地瞟一眼，你就能将其尽收眼底。”

Credit:

1《谈谈女权和自由等问题》，来自公众号“后现代主义哲学”，作者阿月

2 维基词条”male gaze”(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Male_gaze#cite_ref-mulvey1975_8-0)

3 编剧访谈http://variety.com/2018/tv/news/bojack-horseman-season-5-interview-metoo-netflix-1202941206/3

4 卫报关于opioid crisis 的报道：

http://www.theguardian.com/books/2018/aug/19/dopesick-dealers-doctors-drug-company-addicted-america-by-beth-macy-review

http://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2018/aug/16/us-drug-overdose-deaths-opioids-fentanyl-cdc

5 美国毒品监管中心官网：http://www.drugabuse.gov/drugs-abuse/opioids/opioid-overdose-crisis

6 加缪《局外人》《西西弗神话》

加缪在《局外人》中如此写道:

“今天，妈妈死了。也许是昨天。我不知道。 我收到养老院的一封电报，说‘母死。明日葬。专此通知。’ 这说明不了什么。可能是昨天死的。”冷漠的语气就是葬礼上波杰克的演讲一般。

又颓又丧的Bojack也迎来了这一天，他的妈妈碧翠丝死了，但是似乎没有什么改变，唯一感觉有变化的，可能就是波杰克得到了一份免费油条

Free churoo

在原生家庭饱受折磨的波杰克也恨透了他的父母，同时原生家庭对波杰克的性格造成了严重的心理创伤。也因此，当波杰克的妈妈过世了，波杰克并没有太大的感触，但是正如他自己所说“My mother is dead, everything become worse.”波杰克失去了最后一个逃避的借口，他又要面对他的酗酒、药物成瘾等等自己的糟糕事，而他，已经找不到逃避的借口了。波杰克的做法像现实生活中部分人，为自己的不作为找借口，自己定下的flag，总是完不成，总有一堆理由来说服自己，但是你知道，那些都是借口，你只是不想做，问题不是那些事，问题还是在自己身上。

人总是不能随心所欲的做自己

Diane在与Mr.Peanutbutter先生离婚之后状态也是如此，为此特意去了一趟越南，列出了十个去越南的理由，然而一个个的理由都经不起推敲，这些理由全都是借口，真正的原因，只是她不经意间看到花生酱先生用曾经揽着她的姿势去揽着新欢，这时的旅游只是逃避，当自己所有的借口被打破，剖去一切浮于表面之事，你的内心，其实一片荒凉。“你以为你的心不会再破碎，但依然会再次被碾碎，于是你知道你可以忍受孤独”。

在波杰克的新剧《Philbert》中，波杰克的生活与他饰演的主角费尔伯特高度相似，加之波杰克药物依赖越来越严重，分不清角色与现实，精神恍惚，在片场差点错手掐死伙伴Gina。最终，波杰克在戴安的帮助下决定面对自己的糟糕状况，去了戒毒所，而戴安也在经历低潮之后重回生活。

看完这部剧之后，其实有很多感想，但是很多你都说不出来，也不知道怎么去说。在某种程度上，我们都是Philbert,面对着自己糟糕的人生，一面是人前天真烂漫人畜无害的正面形象，另一面则是心里住着一只“小恶魔”的自己；但又不可以把不好的一面展现在公众面前，只好费尽心力地去维护自己的正面人设。就行Bojack一样，电视上是一个明星，但自己知道自己很糟糕

罗曼罗兰说过：“世界上只有一种英雄主义，那就是认清生活的真相之后仍然热爱生活。”话虽如此，私以为不尽正确，我们都知道自己的状况，生活的真相很多时候都是像波杰克一样的颓、丧、无可奈何，这样还可以“热爱生活”吗？或许有另一种如《海边的曼彻斯特》中主角李一样的生活方式，不与过去的自己和解，活在自己的过去中，也并没有什么不好，又颓又美丽。我们总是被教导要坚强，要勇于面对生活，不惧困难诸如此类正面观念，却没人教我们，如何和那个颓废的自己、做了错事的自己和解，如何与那个丧失信念、丧气满满的自己一同生活。我们看到太多的正能量，却不懂得如何宣泄自己的负能量 ，将负能量视为负面，看不到即便是负能量也是一种“能量”。

我们的人生就像溺水一般，我们不懂得如何去拯救对方，但是我们都明白对方的感受，并且一同被水淹没。

生活，就是如此。

前几季人物立住了 这一季终于开始放肆探索讲剧情了 之前总有一种为了丧而丧的嫌疑 看完感觉像一拳打在心上 软绵绵的但是胸闷 一段时间就没什么感觉了 这季打完这拳还会在心里拧几下 而且台词也不再是大段的毒鸡汤说教了 正常真实了很多

以前看完只有一种情感就是同情马男——他也没办法吧这样想 这季是真的为之生气 尤其是他们跟记者解释掐人事件时马男为了自己心里舒坦非要说出真相 马男活得痛苦就理所当然地脆弱发疯不承担责任 可是还有比他活得更艰难的人 他们在不得不坚强活着承受自己的痛苦的同时还要无端端地再加上 因为马男的任性所带来的 本不用承担的痛苦 而且他们甚至没有资本去使用酒精毒品来逃避 即便如此 正因为他们遭受了更多的苦难所以他们又都知道马男也不是故意的 就像我前几季感受到的 他们知道对于马男这个人来说 他做出这样的事也是没办法的结果 马男没办法不这样 于是他们包括我虽然又气又恨 可还是怪罪不了他 不过我产生这样的感受也可能是等第五季期间看事物的角度变化了 之前也有只是我没感受到

最让人震惊的是花生酱和黛安居然已经结婚十年了 原来马男的世界里时间活得这么快 轰隆隆 人生几十年就这么过去了 看那些人物谈到的记得的对于他们人生有着影响的事也就那么几件 连起来不过是几季电视剧 时间一直在给我们机会 重新站起来的机会 只是我们从来没成功过罢了

I have never been at the top of the world ever since.

最后黛安送马男去戒毒所 这是第一次季终是带有希望的结局吧 马男加油哇 黛安加油哇

另外看到有人说这季前面不错后面一般 其实我倒觉得每一集都各有特点 越看到后面越觉得叙事方式多变新奇到这个程度 太牛逼了吧！而且片头片尾都好用心 配乐太好听了 希望能出原声带！

老婆和她的玩伴总在看剧，我也耳濡目染了一些。经过我的询问和她的解答，我发现特别丧的剧都是美国人的。我很奇怪美国人的品味，难道真的是过得太好了吗？也许是爱看这些丧剧的美国人过得太好了，而过得不好的人并不喜欢看？也许是过得的确不好的人才喜欢，而过得好的人并不热捧吧。我觉得事情的真相很可能是这样：过得不错，但总要给自己找点麻烦的人，更可能觉得这个剧好。

其实这个剧给我最突出的感受，是它很像卡佛的小说风格。它介于两个卡佛之间。最初出版并走红的卡佛，是那个被编辑改过的卡佛，可以称作“编辑卡佛”，后来又出版了未编辑的卡佛，我们称它为“真卡佛”。这个动画剧的风格和品味，恰好处在编辑卡佛和真卡佛之间。灰色得没有编辑卡佛彻底，诙谐多过真卡佛，但比真卡佛沉重。它们的核心气质是一样的，就是美国人陷于生计的内容贫乏的生活泥潭，还有没人帮助的糟糕的两性关系和亲子关系。

先说两性关系和情感方面。在所有的美剧和卡佛的小说里，美国人的家庭关系的确和我们很不一样。一个人从他父母身边长大，一般就会脱离出来，所有的伤害都没有解决，只是掐断，然后他就组建他自己的两性关系，而且往往没能比他的父母高明。简直毫无提高，就是按照烂摊子的样子制造新的烂摊子。这种剧也是一样。

还有就是美国人的物质生活。之前读了一本考试用书，工程经济，里面讲了一些公司运作、财务管理方面的原理。我不得不注意到，公司管理的所有原则最终都会产生同一个后果，就是争分夺秒，把人的精力榨干、逼死。想到这些知识经验都该源自伟大富强的美利坚，美国人民的生活状况可见一斑。这个剧里表现得毫无差异。

但是我很不喜欢这个剧。角色在剧里根本没有尝试解决问题。有些人说角色在成长，在逐渐地改善自己的处境。在我看来，那些改进之处都是不痛不痒的。说他们有改善的人，好像忘了一个事实：如果角色的内涵和定位变了，就没法继续往下编了，就没法连载了，之前爱看的人就不会爱看，这可是商业规律啊。而且我要说，肯定他们的进步的人，同样也不能改进自己的生活。可能他们就搞不清楚什么才叫改进。

翻开两个卡佛的小说，我们读到的都是烂摊子，主人公收拾不了的烂摊子。那是一种沉溺，彻底的失败。这个马人也毫无指望。爱看马人的，觉得感同身受的，可能也毫无指望。何以爱看？自己的苦恼被搬上了银幕，想象着它能被很多人看到甚至理解，就获得了一种安慰。我不否定这种安慰的积极，但是，然后呢？无所谓了，继续上班赚钱、然后游荡、喝酒、聊天、回家在床上翻来覆去睡不着呗。

So I stopped at a Jack in the Box on the way here, and the girl behind the counter said, “Hiya! Are you having an awesome day?” Not, “How are you doing today?” No. “Are you having an awesome day?” Which is pretty… shitty, because it puts the onus on me to disagree with her, like if I’m not having an “awesome day,” suddenly I’m the negative one.

Usually when people ask how I’m doing, the real answer is I’m doing shitty, but I can’t say I’m doing shitty because I don’t even have a good reason to be doing shitty. So if I say, “I’m doing shitty,” then they say, “Why? What’s wrong?” And I have to be like, “I don’t know, all of it?” So instead, when people ask how I’m doing, I usually say, “I am doing so great.”

But when this girl at the Jack in the Box asked me if I was having an awesome day, I thought, “Well, today I’m actually allowed to feel shitty.” Today I have a good reason, so I said to her, “Well, my mom died,” and she immediately burst into tears. So now I have to comfort her, which is annoying, and meanwhile, there’s a line of people forming behind me who are all giving me these real judgy looks because I made the Jack in the Box girl cry. And she’s bawling, and she’s saying, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” and I’m like, “It’s fine. It’s fine.” I mean, it’s not fine but, you know, it’s… fine. And I would like to order a Double Jack Meal, and I’ve kinda got somewhere to be, so maybe less with the crying and more with the frying, huh? [inhales] And the girl apologizes again and she offers me a free churro with my meal. And as I’m leaving, I think, “I just got a free churro because my mom died.” No one ever tells you that when your mom dies, you get a free churro.

[people murmuring]

[clears throat]

Anyway, I’m sorry, that’s not part of the… [clears throat] All right. Okay, here we go. Let’s do this. Here I am, BoJack Horseman, doing a eulogy, let’s go. Hey, piano man, can I get a, like an organ flourish? [organ plays] Nicely done. You know, I was a little worried I wouldn’t have the right accompaniment today. I guess it’s a good thing my mom was an organ donor! [rimshot plays] What happened to the organ? [horn ‘oogahs’] Okay, why just leave the comedy to the professionals? Okay? This is a funeral, sir, for my mother. Can you show a little respect? [trumpet whines] I’ll take it.

Beatrice Horseman, who was she? What was her deal? Well, she was a horse. Uh, she was born in 1938. She died in 2018. One time, she went to a parade, and one time, she smoked an entire cigarette in one long inhale. I watched her do it. Truly a remarkable woman.

[rustling]

Lived a full life, that lady. Just, all the way to the end, which is, uh, now I guess. Really makes you think, though, huh? Life, right? Goes by, stuff happens. Then you die. Okay, well that’s my time, you’ve been great! Tip your waitress! No, I’m just kidding around, there’s no waitress. But seriously, that’s all I have to say about my mother. No point beating a dead horse, right? So…

[inhales] Now what? I don’t know. Mom, you got any ideas? Anything? Mom? No? Nothing to contribute? Knock once if you’re proud of me.

Can I just say how amazing it is to be in a room with my mother, and I can just talk and talk without her telling me to shut up and make her a drink? Hey, Mom, knock once if you think I should shut up. No? You sure? I mean, I don’t want to embarrass you by making this eulogy into a me-logy, so, seriously, if you wanted me to sit down and let someone else talk, just knock. I will not be offended. No? Your funeral.

Sorry about the closed casket, by the way. She wanted an open casket, but uh, you know, she’s dead now, so who cares what she wanted? No, that sounds bad. I’m sorry. I-I think that if she could’ve seen what she looked like dead, she’d agree it’s better this way. She looked like this.

[groaning]

[mourners gasping]

Kinda like a pissed-off toy dinosaur. The coroner couldn’t get her eyes closed, so now her face is forever frozen in a mask of tremendous horror and anguish. Or as my mom called it, Tuesday! Tuesday! My mom called it Tuesday.

[woman coughs]

Hey, Mom, what did you think of that joke? You like that? You never did care for my comedy.

[clears throat]

Here’s a story. When I was a teenager, I performed a comedy routine for my high school talent show. There was this, uh, cool jacket that I wanted to wear because I thought it would make me look like Albert Brooks. For months, I saved up for this jacket. But when I finally had enough, I went to the store and it was gone. They had just sold it to someone else. So, I went home and I told my mother, and she said, “Let that be a lesson. That’s the good that comes from wanting things.” She was really good at dispensing life lessons that always seemed to circle back to everything being my fault.

But then, on the day of the talent show, my mother had a surprise for me. She had bought me the jacket. Even though she didn’t know how to say it, I know this meant that she loved me.

Now that’s a good story about my mother. It’s not true, but it’s a good story, right? I stole it from an episode of Maude I saw when I was a kid, where she talks about her father. I remember when I saw it, thinking, “That’s the kind of story I want to tell about my parents when they die.” But I don’t have any stories like that. All I know about being good, I learned from TV. And in TV, flawed characters are constantly showing people they care with these surprising grand gestures. And I think that part of me still believes that’s what love is. But in real life, the big gesture isn’t enough. You need to be consistent, you need to be dependably good. You can’t just screw everything up and then take a boat out into the ocean to save your best friend, or solve a mystery, and fly to Kansas. You need to do it every day, which is so… hard.

When you’re a kid, you convince yourself that maybe the grand gesture could be enough, that even though your parents aren’t what you need them to be over and over and over again, at any moment, they might surprise you with something… wonderful. I kept waiting for that, the proof that even though my mother was a hard woman, deep down, she loved me and cared about me and wanted me to know that I made her life a little bit brighter. Even now, I find myself waiting.

Hey, Mom, knock once if you love me and care about me and want me to know I made your life a little bit brighter.

[owl chirping]

My mother did not go gentle into that good night. She went clawing and fighting and thrashing, hence the face.

[groaning]

[mourners gasping]

If you’d seen her, I swear to God the only thing you’d be thinking about right now is that I am nailing this impression.

[woman clears her throat]

[chairs squeak]

I was in the hospital with her those last moments, and they were truly horrifying, full of nonsencial screams and cries, but there was this moment, this one instant of strange calm, where she looked in my direction and said, “I see you.” That’s the last thing she said to me. “I see you.” Not a statement of judgment or disappointment, just acceptance and the simple recognition of another person in a room. “Hello there. You are a person. And I see you.”

Let me tell you, it’s a weird thing to feel at 54 years old, that for the first time in your life your mother sees you. It’s an odd realization that that’s the thing you’ve been missing, the only thing you wanted all along, to be seen. And it doesn’t feel like a relief, to finally be seen. It feels mean, like, “Oh, it turns out that you knew what I wanted, and you waited until the very last moment to give it to me.” I was prepared for more cruelty. I was sure that she would get in one final zinger about how I let her down, and about how I was fat and stupid and too tall to be an effective Lindy-hopper. How I was needy and a burden and an embarrassment—all that I was ready for. I was not ready for “I see you.” Only my mother would be lousy enough to swipe me with a moment of connection on her way out. But maybe I’m giving her too much credit. Maybe it wasn’t about connection. Maybe it was a… maybe it was an “I see you,” like, uh, “I see you.” Like, “You might have the rest of the world fooled, but I know exactly who you are.” That’s more my mom’s speed.

Or maybe she just literally meant “I see you. You are an object that has entered my field of vision.” She was pretty out of it at the end, so maybe it’s dumb to try to attribute it to anything.

[woman sighs]

Back in the 90s, I was in a very famous TV show called Horsin’ Around.

[man coughs]

Please hold your applause. And I remember one time, a fan asked me, “Hey, um, you know that episode where the horse has to give Ethan a pep talk after Ethan finds out his crush only asked him to the dance because her friends were having a dorkiest date contest? In all the shots of the horse, you can see a paper coffee cup on the kitchen counter, but in the shots of Ethan, the coffee cup’s missing. Was that because the show was making a statement about the fluctuant subjectivity of memory and how even two people can experience the same moment in entirely different ways?” And I didn’t have the heart to be, like, “No, man, some crew guy just left their coffee cup in the shot.” So instead, I was, like… “Yeah.”

And maybe this is like that coffee cup. Maybe we’re dumb to try to pin significance onto every little thing. Maybe when someone says, “I see you,” it just means, “I see you.” Then again, it’s possible she wasn’t even talking to me because, if I’m being honest, she wasn’t really looking at me. She was looking just past me. There was nobody else in the room, so I want to think she was talking to me, but, honestly, she was so far gone at that point, who knows what she was seeing? Who were you talking to, Mom? [sighs] Not saying, huh? Staying mum? No rimshot there? God, whatever I’m paying you, it’s too much.

Maybe she saw my dad. My dad died about ten years ago of injuries he sustained during a duel. When your father dies, you ask yourself a lot of questions. Questions like, “Wait, did you say he died in a duel?” and “Who dies in a duel?” The whole thing was so stupid. Dad spent his entire life writing this book, but he couldn’t get any stores to carry it or any newspapers to review it. Finally, I guess this one newspaper thought he was pretty hilarious, because they ran a review and tore him to shreds. So my father, ever the proud Mary, decided he would not stand for this besmirchment of his honor. He claimed the critic didn’t understand what it meant to be a man, so he demanded satisfaction in the form of pistols at dawn. He wrote the paper this letter, saying anyone who didn’t like his book, he would challenge to a duel, anyone in the world. He’d even pay for airfare to San Francisco and a night in a hotel. Well, eventually this found its way to some kook in Montana, who was as batshit as he was and took him up on the offer. They met at Golden Gate Park and agreed: ten paces, then shoot. But in the middle of the ten paces, Dad turned to ask the guy if he’d actually read the book and what he thought, but, not looking where he was going, tripped over an exposed root and bashed his head on a rock.

[murmur]

I wish I’d known to go to Jack in the Box then. Maybe I could have gotten a free churro. It would’ve been nice to have something to show for being the son of Butterscotch Horseman. My darling mother gave the eulogy. My entire life I never heard her say a kind word to or about my father, but at his funeral she said, “My husband is dead, and everything is worse now.”

“My husband is dead, and everything is worse now.” I don’t know why she said that. Maybe she felt like that’s the kind of thing you’re supposed to say at a funeral. Maybe she hoped one day someone would say that about her. “My mother is dead, and everything is worse now.” Or maybe she knew that he had frittered away all her inheritance, and replaced it with crippling debt, which is a pretty shitty thing to leave your widow with. “Bad news, you lost a husband, but don’t worry, you also lost the house!” Maybe Mom knew she’d have to sell all her fancy jewelry and move into a home. Maybe that’s what she meant by “everything is worse now.” Is that what you meant, Mom?

I gotta say, I’m really carrying this double act. At least with Penn and Teller, the quiet one does card tricks. Hey, piano man, when I say something funny to my mom, how about you give me one of those rimshots?

[rimshot plays]

Yeah, but not now. When I say something funny. Like, okay. What’s the difference between my mother and a disruptive expulsion of germs? One’s a coughin’ fit and the other fits a coffin! That’s an example of a funny thing.

[rimshot plays]

Thank you. Let’s try again. Hey, Mom. What’s the difference between my mother and a bunch of Easter eggs? One gets carried in a basket, the other gets buried in a casket!

[rimshot plays]

Ready for one more? Last one. What’s the difference between a first-year lit major and my mother, Beatrice Horseman? One is decently read, and the other’s a huge bitch!

[woman gasps]

[murmurs]

Yeah, might have gone a little too far with that one. That one might’ve been a little too “my mom’s a huge bitch” for the room. I’m sorry, Mother. You’re not a huge bitch. You were a huge bitch… and now you’re dead.

[woman sighs]

You know, the first time I ever performed in front of an audience, it actually was, uh, with my mom. She used to put on these shows with her supper club in the living room and she used to make… [inhales] She used to make me sing “The Lollipop Song.”

[organ playing tune]

Those parties, they were really something. There were skits and magic acts, and ethnically insensitive vaudeville routines, and the big finale was always a dance my mother did. She had this beautiful dress that she only brought out for these parties, and she did this incredible number. It was so beautiful and sad. Dad hated the parties. He’d lock himself in the study, and bang on the walls for us to keep it down, but he always came out to see Mom dance. He’d linger in the doorway, scotch in hand, and watch in awe, as this cynical, despicable woman he married… took flight. And as a child who was completely terrified of both my parents, I was always aware that this moment of grace, it meant something. We understood each other in a way. Me and my mom and my dad, as screwed up as we all were, we did understand each other. My mother, she knew what it’s like to feel your entire life like you’re drowning, with the exception of these moments, these very rare, brief instances, in which you suddenly remember… you can swim.

[flashback]

[partygoers laughing]

[classical music playing]

But then again, mostly not. Mostly you’re drowning. She understood that, too. And she recognized that I understood it. And Dad. All three of us were drowning, and we didn’t know how to save each other, but there was an understanding that we were all drowning together. And I would like to think that that’s what she meant when we were in the hospital and she said, “I see you.”

You know, the weird thing about both your parents being dead is it means that you’re next. I mean, you know, obviously it’s not like there’s a waitlist for dying. Any one of us could get run over by a Snapchatting teen at any moment. And you would think that knowing that would make us more adventurous, and kind, and forgiving. But it makes us small, and stupid, and petty.

I actually had a near-death experience recently. A stunt went bad and I fell off a building. I’m an actor, I do my own stunts. I’m on this new show Philbert. I’m Philbert. Star of the show. It hasn’t come out yet, but it’s already getting Emmy buzz. Oh, speaking of buzz… [inhales] I’m supposed to take two of these every morning, but my days are so screwed up ‘cause of the shooting schedule, I don’t even know what morning means anymore. There’s a joke in there somewhere, about a guy who’s been to so many funerals, he doesn’t even know what mourning means anymore. Let you guys figure that one out for yourselves. [gulps]

Anyway, you know what I thought, when I was falling off the building and I went into panic mode? The last thing that my stupid brain could come up with before I died? “Won’t they be sorry.” Cool thought, brain.

[rimshot plays]

No, that wasn’t… would you just… dial it back, all right?

I don’t even know what “they” I wanted to be sorry. My mom, even before she died, could barely remember who I was. And of course, my dad’s dead. The last conversation I ever had with him was about his novel. He was so certain this book was his legacy. Maybe he thought it would vindicate him for all the shitty things he ever did in his stupid worthless life. Maybe it did, I don’t know. I never read it, because why would I give him that?

I used to be on this TV show called Horsin’ Around. Seriously, though, hold your applause.

[man coughs]

Well held. It was written by my friend Herb Kazzaz, who’s also dead now, and it starred this little girl named Sarah Lynn. And it was about these orphans. And early on, the network had a note, “Maybe don’t mention they’re orphans so much, because audiences tend to find orphans sad and not relatable.” But I never thought that the orphans were sad. I-I always thought they were lucky, because they could imagine their parents to be anything they wanted. They had something to long for.

Anyway, we did this one season finale, where Olivia’s birth mother comes to town. And she was a junkie, but she’s gotten herself cleaned up, and she wants to be in Olivia’s life again. And of course, she’s like a perfect grown-up version of Olivia, and they go to the mall together and get her ears pierced like she’s always wanted and—sorry, spoiler alert for the season six finale of Horsin’ Around, if you’re still working your way through it. Anyway, the horse tries to warn her, “Be careful, moms have a way of letting you down.” But Olivia just thinks the horse is jealous, and when the mom says she’s moving to California, Olivia decides to go with her. And the network really juiced the cliffhanger: “Is Olivia gone for good?” But of course, because it’s a TV show, she was not gone for good. Of course, because it’s a TV show, Olivia’s mother had a relapse and had to go back to rehab, so Olivia had to hitchhike all the way home, getting rides from Mr. T, Alf, and the cast of Stomp. Of course, that’s what happened. Because, what are you gonna do, just not have Olivia on the show? You can’t have happy endings in sitcoms, not really, because, if everyone’s happy, the show would be over, and above all else, the show… has to keep going. There’s always more show. And you can call Horsin’ Around dumb, or bad, or unrealistic, but there is nothing more realistic than that. You never get a happy ending, ‘cause there’s always more show.

I guess until there isn’t.

[chuckles]

My mom would hate it if she knew that I spent so much time at her funeral talking about my old TV show. Or maybe she’d think it was funny that her idiot son couldn’t even do this right. Who knows? She left no instructions for what she wanted me to say. All I know is she wanted an open casket, and her idiot son couldn’t even do that right. I’m not gonna stand up here and pretend I ever understood how to please that woman, even though so much of my life has been wasted in vain attempts to figure it out. But I keep going back to that moment in the ICU when she looked at me, and… “I-C-U.”

“I… see… you.” Jesus Christ, we were in the intensive care unit. She was just reading a sign. My mom died and all I got was this free churro.

You know the shittiest thing about all of this? Is when that stranger behind the counter gave me that free churro, that small act of kindness showed more compassion than my mother gave me her entire goddamn life. Like, how hard is it to do something nice for a person? This woman at the Jack in the Box didn’t even know me. I’m your son! All I had was you! [inhales]

I have this friend. And right around when I first met her, her dad died, and I actually went with her to the funeral. And months later, she told me that she didn’t understand why she was still upset, because she never even liked her father. It made sense to me, because I went through the same thing when my dad died. And I’m going through the same thing now. You know what it’s like? It’s like that show Becker, you know, with Ted Danson? I watched the entire run of that show, hoping that it would get better, and it never did. It had all the right pieces, but it just—it couldn’t put them together. And when it got canceled, I was really bummed out, not because I liked the show, but because I knew it could be so much better, and now it never would be. And that’s what losing a parent is like. It’s like Becker.

Suddenly, you realize you’ll never have the good relationship you wanted, and as long as they were alive, even though you’d never admit it, part of you, the stupidest goddamn part of you, was still holding on to that chance. And you didn’t even realize it until that chance went away.

My mother is dead, and everything is worse now, because now I know I will never have a mother who looks at me from across a room and says, “BoJack Horseman, I see you.” But I guess it’s good to know. It’s good to know that there is nobody looking out for me, that there never was, and there never will be. No, it’s good to know that I am the only one that I can depend on. And I know that now and it’s good. It’s good that I know that. So… it’s good my mother is dead.

[gulps, sighs]

Well. No point beating a dead horse. Beatrice Horseman was born in 1938, and she died in 2018, and I have no idea… what she wanted. Unless she just wanted what we all want… to be seen.

Is this Funeral Parlor B?

—— from Reddit

看来前五集本来觉得这一季有点走低，还在想bojack怎么变得不愤世嫉俗了。第六集看得我泪流满面，这还是我熟悉的那个神剧！每次这部剧里有关原生家庭的描写都能引起我很大触动，可能我跟bojack一样，都是在原生家庭中被伤害过的小孩。

第六集整一集都是马男在母亲葬礼上的eulogy。马男的妈妈是个刻薄冷漠又神经质的人，对小bojack从来的都是打击嘲讽，所以长大后的他才这么愤世嫉俗，没有责任感，敏感又痛苦。Bojack人生中一个很大的课题就是想得到母亲的认可，就算在致悼词的时候他还在耿耿于怀母亲最后说的“I see you”是什么意思。从没被看见过的小孩终其一生都在等待着被看见。可惜的是母亲不会因为他的渴望而改变，最后等待他的还是失望。最痛苦的是母亲已经去世了，连这点等待的希望也终于破灭。冷酷的世界就这样告诉他，算了吧，你的父母不可能认可你赞许你，我想这可能是最悲哀最伤感的事之一了。

但是我最受触动的是Bojack回忆母亲跳舞的那一段话。Bojack的母亲会定期跟朋友们聚会，聚会的结尾她总会跳一段舞。这个时候平时总是酗酒暴躁的父亲也会停止抱怨，静静的看着妻子舞蹈，小Bojack也忘了对双亲的畏惧，感受着这一点“从溺水的生活中透气”的时光。舞蹈结束，生活恢复原来的样子，依然充斥着酒精和争吵，仿佛这一点心灵相通的瞬间从来没存在过。家人在一起就是互相伤害。

我想这是比“父母从来没看到过你”更痛苦的事。明明是因为爱在一起，明明心中仍有爱，但是我们却因为曾经受到过的贬斥和伤害把自己层层包裹起来，为了保护自己，同样用伤害回击给别人。家庭成了互相投射心灵最黑暗的负面情绪的场所，只有在忘了自我保护的时候，才散发出这一点点爱，就像砂砾中的金子一样，支撑着人继续忍受日复一日的痛苦。

每个被原生家庭伤害过的小孩可能都问过自己，“我爱我的父母吗？”。可能我们对父母的感情并没有那么纯粹，是一种复杂的多也深沉的多的情感。我的爸爸跟Bojack的爸爸有些地方有点像。他曾经离开了很稳定的事业单位的工作去做一个更自由的创作者。不过我从来没看过他的作品，他似乎也不是很在意家人的评价。我还能记得我小的时候拿他的书玩，他很不耐烦的呵斥我的样子。写错了一个字被他骂“完蛋”的样子。他也喜欢旅游，很早就走过国内的很多地方，但是他并不喜欢跟别人一起走，只喜欢自己出去玩。我有时候觉得家人的存在对他也许是种拖累，他本来可以当个更自由更快乐的人。也许是生活和家庭都不如意，他也有酒精方面的问题。有一次喝多了朝我扔一个很重的挂饰，差点砸到我。现在每次想到这个场景我都抑制不住的痛苦愤怒。但是我又永远记得我小时候刚上学的时候不会削铅笔，他就每次都削好十只给我带着，他的手指头很粗，削铅笔的时候却特别灵活，削好的铅笔头又长又细。我也还记得他带我到书店买凡尔纳全集，一边买一边得意的说：这套书很好看，你一定喜欢看。我写的东西，画的东西就算很糟糕他看到了都会很惊喜的夸我几句。我小的时候对他有很多怨言，总觉得他无视我的想法（就像很多中式家庭的家长一样）。长大之后稍微理解了他，他也有他自己糟糕复杂的原生家庭，虽然他从来不跟我说（可能觉得我的意见不重要，我毕竟永远是个“小孩”）。没人教过他怎么处理情绪，怎么表达爱，所以他只好像绝大多数代代相传的中国家庭传统那样，用挑剔，控制，打压表达爱。

虽然在一定程度上理解了他，但是我依然没法表达我自己的爱。想要表达的时候，总会想起我灰暗焦虑的童年，像一只战战兢兢的小兽，不知道什么时候就会被骂，只好蜷缩自己缩小存在感。又有时候跟父母展示自己，想要像Bojack一样被看到，但是得到的打击远远多过肯定。时时刻刻处在畏惧和恐惧之下。每当我想跟父母和解，对他们说些好话的时候，这个受伤的小兽就会提醒我它的存在，让我觉得和解就是对不起那个曾经承受过这么多痛苦的自己。所以我也继承了这个家庭里代际间的创伤，学会了说伤人的话，把爱包裹在层层的自我保护之下，用一种扭曲的方式表达出来。

但是也有爱闪耀的时刻，就像Bojack妈妈跳舞的时候那样。春天花开的时候，我们家总要一起去公园赏花，走在耀眼阳光下，缤纷花丛间，我爸妈仿佛也忘了相互之间的陈年旧恨，就像一对恩爱多年的夫妇那样，互相拍照，聊天，调笑，欣赏美景。我给他们照相，三个人一起大笑。这是我记忆里为数不多的鲜明的记忆。在那一刻在我们之间，没有伤害和痛苦，只有纯粹的爱意在流动。每次想起这样的瞬间我都觉得温暖，就算游玩之后回家他们之间还是会因为做饭之类的事大吵一架，搞得好几天不跟对方说话。也许爱的力量太强大了，抵得过许多次伤害，就因为这样闪耀的瞬间，让我可以继续在接下来灰暗的日子里默默忍受，直到现在。

我想这也许就是人生的意义之一，感受爱，给出爱。但这也是最难的课题之一。也许只有最勇敢的人才能宽恕，宽恕曾经伤害自己的人，无视可能会受到的更大的伤害，无惧的表达出最真实的感觉，对我们在意的人说出“我爱你”。所幸的是我父母还身体健康，我还有机会继续修习这门课直到毕业。希望有一天我能对我的父母说：我能看到你，我爱你。到那时候我内心受伤的小兽应该就已经不会继续悲伤了吧。