在中國，房子一直都是許多人一輩子最重要的物質(zhì)追求，而裝修則是住進新房前的頭等大事。建筑風(fēng)格以及裝修風(fēng)格、檔次，多少都與居住者的“幸?！毕嗦?lián)系，當(dāng)然，這對于那些總念叨著“色即是空”的人除外。

這期向大家推薦一本頗值得閱讀的書——The Architecture of Happiness(《幸福的建筑》)，它講述的不是教科書式的西方建筑史，也非有關(guān)建筑的鑒賞手冊或裝潢指南，而是從一個極其獨特的角度，審視一個我們看似熟悉、其實頗為陌生的主題:建筑與我們的幸福之間的關(guān)系。人為何需要建筑?為何具有某種美的建筑會令你心生愉悅?為何你對建筑的鑒賞標準會發(fā)生改變?建筑與人的幸福之間到底有何關(guān)聯(lián)?作者Alain de Botton(阿蘭·德波頓)從哲學(xué)、美學(xué)和心理學(xué)的角度對這些問題作出的解答足以令你從根本上改變對建筑，進而對人生和幸福的既定態(tài)度與追求。

Alain de Botton，人稱“英倫才子”，1969年出生于瑞士蘇黎世，畢業(yè)于劍橋大學(xué)，現(xiàn)居倫敦。著有Essays in Love(《愛情筆記》)、The Consolations of Philosophy(《哲學(xué)的慰藉》)、The Art of Travel(《旅行的藝術(shù)》)、Status Anxiety(《身份的焦慮》)等作品。他的作品已被譯成二十幾種文字，單單在中國就有很多他的“粉絲”。

本期節(jié)選了該書第一章的部分內(nèi)容供大家“享用”，節(jié)選的內(nèi)容文學(xué)性強，難度不小，有點難啃，不過看在好文的份上，大家可要堅持到最后哦!^_^

1.

A 1)terraced house on a tree-lined street. Earlier today， the house rang with the sound of children’s cries and adult voices， but since the last occupant took off (with her 2)satchel) a few hours ago， it has been left to 3)sample the morning by itself. The sun has risen over the 4)gables of the buildings opposite and now washes through the ground-floor windows， painting the interior walls a buttery yellow and warming the 5)grainy-red brick 6)faccedil;ade. Within 7)shafts of sunlight， platelets of dust move as if in obedience to the rhythms of a silent waltz. From the hallway， the low murmur of accelerating traffic can be detected a few blocks away. Occasionally， the letter-box opens with a 8)rasp to admit a9)plaintive leaflet.

The house gives signs of enjoying the emptiness. It is rearranging itself after the night， clearing its pipes and cracking its joints. This dignified and seasoned 10)creature， with its coppery veins and wooden feet nestled in a bed of clay， has endured much: balls bounced against its garden 11)flanks， doors slammed in rage， headstands attempted along its corridors， the weight and sighs of electrical equipment and the 12)probings of inexperienced plumbers into its innards. A family of four shelters in it， joined by a colony of ants around the foundations and， in spring time， by 13)broods of robins in the chimney stack. It also lends a shoulder to a frail (or just 14)indolent) sweet-pea which leans against the garden wall， indulging the peripatetic courtship of a circle of bees.

The house has grown into a knowledgeable witness. It has been party to early seductions， it has watched homework being written， it has observed15)swaddled babies freshly arrived from hospital， it has been surprised in the middle of the night by whispered conferences in the kitchen. It has experienced winter evenings when its windows were as cold as bags of frozen peas and midsummer 16)dusks when its brick walls held the warmth of newly baked bread.

It has provided not only physical but also psychological sanctuary. It has been a guardian of identity. Over the years， its owners have returned from periods away and， on looking around them， remembered who they were. The 17)flagstones on the ground floor speak of serenity and aged grace， while the regularity of the kitchen cabinets offers a model of 18)unintimidating order and discipline. The dining table， with its 19)waxy tablecloth printed with large 20)buttercups， suggests a burst of playfulness which is thrown into 21)relief by a sterner concrete wall nearby. Along the stairs， small still-lives of eggs and lemons draw attention to the 22)intricacy and beauty of everyday things. On a 23)ledge beneath a window， a glass jar of 24)cornflowers helps to resist the pull towards dejection. On the upper floor， a narrow empty room allows space for restorative thoughts to hatch， its skylight giving out onto impatient clouds migrating rapidly over cranes and 25)chimney pots.

Although this house may lack solutions to a great many of its occupants’ 26)ills， its rooms nevertheless give evidence of a happiness to which architecture has made its distinctive contribution.

2.

Yet a concern for architecture has never been free from a degree of suspicion. Doubts have been raised about the subject’s seriousness， its moral worth and its cost. A thought-provoking number of the world’s most intelligent people have disdained any interest in decoration and design， equating contentment with27)discarnate and invisible matters instead.

The Ancient Greek 28)Stoic philosopher 29)Epictetus is said to have demanded of a heart-broken friend whose house had burnt to the ground， “If you really understand what governs the universe， how can you yearn for bits of stone and pretty rock?” Legend recounts that after hearing the voice of God， the Christian hermit Alexandra sold her house， shut herself in a tomb and never looked at the outside world again， while her fellow hermit Paul slept on a blanket on the floor of a windowless mud hut and recited 300 prayers every day， suffering only when he heard of another holy man who had managed 700 and slept in a coffin.

Such 30)austerity has been a historical constant. In the spring of 1137 the Cistercian monk31)St Bernard of Clairvaux travelled all the way around Lake Geneva without noticing it was even there. Likewise， after four years in his monastery， St Bernard could not report whether the dining area had a vaulted ceiling (it does) or how many windows there were in the 32)sanctuary of his church (three). On a visit to the 33)Charterhouse of 34)Dauphiné， St Bernard astonished his hosts by arriving on a magnificent white horse 35)diametrically opposed to the 36)ascetic values he professed， but he explained that he had borrowed the animal from a wealthy uncle and had simply failed to 37)register its appearance on a four-day journey across France.

3.

Nevertheless， such determined efforts to scorn visual experience have always been matched by equally persistent attempts to mould the material world to graceful ends. People have 38)strained their backs carving flowers into their roof beams and their eyesight embroidering animals onto their tablecloths. They have given up weekends to hide unsightly cables behind ledges. They have thought carefully about appropriate kitchen work-surfaces. They have imagined living in unattainably expensive houses pictured in magazines and then felt sad， as one does on passing an attractive stranger in a crowded street.

We seem divided between an urge to 39)override our senses and numb ourselves to our settings and a contradictory impulse to acknowledge the extent to which our identities are indelibly connected to， and will shift along with， our locations. An ugly room can 40)coagulate any loose suspicions as to the incompleteness of life， while a sun-lit one set with honey-coloured limestone tiles can lend support to whatever is most hopeful within us.

Belief in the significance of architecture is premised on the notion that we are， for better or for worse， different people in different places—and on the conviction that it is architecture’s task to render vivid to us who we might ideally be.

……

1.

那是一條林蔭道上的一幢聯(lián)排式房子。今早，房子內(nèi)回蕩著孩子的哭聲及大人的說話聲，不過打最后一個住客幾小時前(背著書包)離開后，就剩它獨自細品這個清晨了。太陽已經(jīng)升到對面樓房的山墻尖頂之上，陽光透過一樓的窗戶遍灑進來，給屋子內(nèi)墻涂上一層奶油黃，粗粒紅磚外墻也給曬得暖洋洋的。一粒粒塵埃在縷縷光束中，似乎正應(yīng)和著一曲無聲華爾茲的節(jié)奏起舞。在門廳里可以聽見幾個街區(qū)之外繁忙交通的低語。偶爾，信箱會砰地一聲被打開，接收一份憂郁的傳單。

這幢房子像是頗為享受這份空寂。一夜過后，它正在重新調(diào)整自己，清理它的管道，活動它的關(guān)節(jié)。把自己的銅脈木腳安置在泥床之上，這位看盡人間世相而威嚴依然的老兄已經(jīng)久歷風(fēng)霜:它的花園圍墻無數(shù)次被球擊打，這扇那扇門曾被憤怒地怦然關(guān)上，整條走廊被用來練習(xí)頭手倒立，承受電器設(shè)備的壓力和嘆息，忍受初出茅廬的管子工在它內(nèi)臟里胡鉆亂探。一家四口蔭庇于其間，外加地基周圍的一群螞蟻。每逢春天，煙囪邊還有幾窩剛孵化出來的知更鳥。它還借一個肩膀給挨著花園圍墻生長的脆弱的(或許只是懶惰的)香豌豆倚靠，后者則只顧跟一群來來去去的蜜蜂調(diào)情。

這幢房子已成長為一位知識廣博的見證人。它參與過最初的情挑意逗，看過孩子做作業(yè)的一筆一劃，觀察過剛出院尚在襁褓中的嬰兒，還曾在半夜被廚房里的秘密會談吵醒。它經(jīng)歷過冬夜，其窗戶冷得像一袋袋冷凍豌豆;它也經(jīng)歷過仲夏的黃昏，其磚墻有著面包剛烤好時的那般熱度。

它不僅是個物質(zhì)上的，還是個精神上的庇護所。它一直是身份的守衛(wèi)者。多少年來，它的主人回回外游歸來，只要在房子里環(huán)顧四周就會想起他們的過去。地面上的石板訴說著一份安寧和經(jīng)年累月沉積下來的雍容，而廚房里那整齊的櫥柜則是不會使人有脅迫感的條理和秩序的典范。餐桌上鋪著印有大棵毛茛圖案的柔軟的桌布，使人想起玩樂嬉戲，它跟旁邊板著臉的水泥墻面擺在一起，成為了此景的一種視覺調(diào)劑。沿著樓梯，那些小小的靜物，如雞蛋和檸檬，又將你的注意力引向日常事物呈現(xiàn)出的精細優(yōu)美。窗臺上，一個插著矢車菊的玻璃花瓶能將你從沮喪低落的情緒中拉出來。樓上的一個狹小的空房給你空間讓你“孵出”有助提振精神的想法，透過天窗你可以望見匆匆流云迅速飄過起重機和煙囪頂管的上空。

雖說這幢房子對其住戶自身的種種問題可能束手無策，但這里面的每個房間都印證著一份快樂，而建筑對這種幸福感是功不可沒的。

2.

然而人們對建筑的關(guān)注歷來不乏一定的猜疑，主要針對建筑這一主題的嚴肅性，其道德價值及其造價。在世上最聰明的那群人中，有好一部分人對裝潢和設(shè)計嗤之以鼻，而滿足于那些無形和虛幻的事物，這引人深思。

據(jù)說古希臘斯多葛派哲學(xué)家埃皮克提圖曾質(zhì)問一位因房子遭火災(zāi)燒成灰燼而傷心欲絕的朋友:“如果你真的明白是什么支配著宇宙，怎么還會放不下那一點點磚瓦美石呢?”傳說基督教隱士亞歷山德拉在聽到上帝的聲音后賣掉了她的房子，把自己關(guān)在一個墳?zāi)估?，再也不看外面的世界。而她的同道中人，隱士保羅則睡在一間無窗泥棚屋里的地板上的一條毯子上，而且每天吟誦300句禱文，他的痛苦只在于聽說還有個圣人能每天吟誦700句禱文且在棺材里。

這類苦行在歷史上可謂屢見不鮮。1137年春，西多會的修道士，克萊爾沃修道院的圣伯納德一直繞著瑞士日內(nèi)瓦湖旅行，卻竟然沒有注意到湖的存在。同樣的，在修道院呆了四年，圣伯納德卻回答不出來那里的用餐區(qū)是否有個拱頂(事實上有)以及他那個教堂的高壇處有幾扇窗戶(三扇)。一次造訪多菲內(nèi)的加爾都西會時，圣伯納德令接待他的主人們大吃一驚，他是騎著一匹極好的白馬抵達那里的，這完全與他公開秉持的苦行價值觀背道而馳。但他卻解釋說，這動物是從他的一位富有的叔父那借來的，在穿越法國的四天旅途中，他壓根沒注意到它長什么樣。

3.

然而，長久以來，人類力圖將物質(zhì)世界塑造得優(yōu)雅完美的那份堅持，一直與這類堅決蔑視視覺體驗的努力旗鼓相當(dāng)。人類為了在頂梁上雕刻花朵而不惜拉傷腰背肌肉，為了在桌布上繡出動物來寧肯累花了眼。他們放棄周末的休息將不雅觀的電纜藏于壁架后。他們小心琢磨廚房灶臺用什么材料才合適。他們想象過住進雜志圖片上那些天價豪宅里，接著又黯然神傷，仿佛在擁擠的大街上跟一個迷人的陌生人擦肩而過那般，心里萬分惆悵。

我們似乎既想對自己的感官感受置之不理，使自己對所處環(huán)境麻木不覺，但同時又有一種相反的沖動——去承認我們的身份在很大程度上和我們的住處永遠聯(lián)系在一起，且會隨其變化而變化。一個丑陋的房間能使對生活的不完滿所產(chǎn)生的游疑閑慮固化成型，而一套光照充足、鋪著蜜黃色石灰石地磚的居室則能為我們內(nèi)心最熾熱的希冀更添力量。

對建筑之意義的信仰基于“不論好壞，我們都是生活在不同地方的不同個體”這一觀念;同時，也是出于相信“建筑就是為了向我們生動地展示出我們理想中的自己”。

……