駱以軍的第四人稱單數書寫（2/2）：時間製圖學

Yi-chun Ro's Fourth-Person Singular Writing (2/2): A Cartography of Time

本文延續〈路以軍的第四人稱單數書寫（1/2）：空間考古學〉的探討，對駱以軍小說中的時間性及相關論域從事文本分析。首先，一再出現於小說中的「我」作為貫穿各種故事的人稱（或人物），其實是一種「第四人稱」或「無人稱」：因為敘述極度的碎裂與錯接，使得「我」並不指向任何一個實存的個體，而是由各式八卦、回憶、事件、夢境．．．所錯亂拼合而成。第二，回憶成為駱以軍小說藉以操弄時間的材料，回憶的回憶及回憶的遺忘在時間中構成極其複雜的差異與重複，而小說最終成為一種透過回憶（的回憶）所構築的「我城」，是對一整座龐大的虛擬城市的造鎮計畫。第三，時間在駱以軍小說中被等問於傷害，生命則是一個瓦解的過程，在歷經一切滄桑後，寫作似乎僅為了聊遣悲懷以度餘生。第四，死亡成為駱以軍小說的邊界，然而在書寫中卻又不斷越界或畫界，各式怪奇的死亡翻湧而出，似乎正是從生死一線的時空糾葛中才得以豁然開出書寫的虛擬性，然而，支撐這個大膽撩撥死亡並與之周旋到底的特異書寫，無疑地必然是在高張文字平面上噴吐崩瀉的生命強度。書寫成為一種「越界序言」。

This essay is a continuation of my previous essay 'Yi-Chun Ro's Fourth-Person Singular Writing (1/2): An Archeology of Space.' I would like to analyze the temporality and its related 'horizons' in Yi-Chun Ro's novels. First of all, the 'I' which appears recurrently in his novels, acting as a narrative voice or a personage which links a variety of stories, is actually a 'fourth-person' or an 'impersonal' writing. Because of the extreme fragmentation and delocalization of the narration, the 'I' does not refer to any actual and specific individual; on the contrary, it is a patchwork of all kinds of gossips, memories, events, dreams, etc. Second, memory becomes material with which Yi-Chun Ro manipulates temporality in his novels; reminiscence of memory and forgetting of memory constitute in time a complicated series of difference and repetition. His novels become, at last, an 'I-City' built upon memory (or its remembering), a town-building project for a vast virtual city. Third, time is regarded as equivalent to damage, while life is a procedure of breakdown; after having suffered all kinds of injuries, the 'I' writes merely to dispel sadness in order to get through the remaining life. Forth, death becomes the border of Yi-Chun Ro's writing; however, he attempts constantly to transgress it or to delimit it. Various kinds of extraordinary deaths spout; it seems that only at the frontier of life and death, the virtuality of writing is opened up. What sustains such a singular writing which plays daringly with death is nevertheless undoubtedly the intensity of life which gushes and rushes over the highly tense verbal plane. Writing becomes, hence, a 'preface to transgression.'