人，是否天生是格斗者？
谁，又是否天生是赢家？
84天，一个老人，一片海。
老人孤身在海上捕鱼，八十四天一无所获，而默默陪伴他的男孩，也因他父亲的命令，那些所谓的好运气，离开了他。老人仅剩一帆孤舟。但，他选择出海。
苍茫的大海，仿佛凝结着无法言说的神秘的生命力，让人沉醉，也让人恐惧。天色渐暗，老人划桨向前。他停下来，持着鱼钩，以沙丁鱼为饵，投入海中。
一切虚无缥缈。他只能静等。
而他，每一次满怀希望地拉起鱼线，钓起的都只是小鱼。这些作鱼饵了罢。他一次又一次将鱼钩抛入海中。
那浑沌的蓝色高原上，似乎能透过他冷峻的外表而听到他深层里生命的喧嚣，一切都被那层混沌不透明的海水包裹着，内在的生命的冲动只是偶尔变幻的浪花翻腾一下，而后就消失了；在这里，一切未知。别人都无法真正地窥见他的内心。
伸展眼睛，眺望去，不见白浪滔天，只见那一点鱼帆，那晒得古铜色的发光的皮肤，那敏锐的眼神，娴熟抛钩的动作。他不会去欣赏所谓的风景，或许是看惯了，他的心里只有捕鱼。
鱼线一紧，他突然意识到，转身紧握那鱼线。“一定是条大鱼！”可那大鱼，拉着鱼线，在海面极速地朝远处游去。老人用宽大的脚掌抵住船板，尽管左手抽筋，也依旧拽着鱼线不放。大鱼跳跃着，仿佛就要挣脱枷锁。
老人又收紧了鱼线。“我和你奉陪到死！”海上，老人没有任何工具，他靠着一根不起眼的鱼线，与大鱼进行了殊死搏斗。
三天三夜的周旋。在筋疲力尽的最后关头，六旬的老人终于战胜了大鱼，把它绑到自己的船舷上。
马林鱼。大鱼伤口的血腥味在那一片海域不住地弥漫。
在归途中，饥饿的鲨鱼接二连三地追上来，他拼尽全力，一条条地杀死这些掠夺者；老人回到岸边，他带回的只是一条巨大的鱼骨，一条残破的小船和一副疲惫不堪的躯体。
他失败了。却也成功了。
老人——桑提亚哥，是敢于挑战自身缺陷、自己勇气和信心的胜利者。他没有向大海，向马林鱼，向鲨鱼妥协。虽然老人战胜了大海，战胜了马林鱼，输给了鲨鱼，但他依然是最终的胜利者。正如贝多芬所说：“我可以被摧毁，但我不能被征服。”
“人可以被毁灭，但不能被打败”。
在海岸远望，那片深蓝与远天衔接，犹如一块缓缓隆起的蓝色高原，闪着远古洪荒般的琉璃瓦的光泽，拓宽着茫茫无限的空间。
Wandering •Home
——comment of <The old man and the sea>
Is man born as a fighter?
Who is the natural winner?
84 days, an old man, a sea.
The old man fished alone at sea for 84 days and found nothing. The boy who accompanied him silently also left him because of his father’s order. The so-called good luck left him. The old man had only one boat left, but he chose to go to sea.
The vast sea, as if condensed with unspeakable mysterious vitality, makes people intoxicated, but also frightening. As the sky darkened, the old man paddled forward. He stopped, holding a hook, and bathing sardines into the sea.
Everything is vague, he can only wait quietly, and every time he pulls up the line hopefully, he catches small fish. These are baits. He threw the hook into the sea again and again.
The chaotic blue plateau seems to be able to hear the noise of life in his deep layer through his cold appearance. Everything is wrapped in the chaotic opaque sea water. The impulse of life inside is just the occasional change of the waves, and then disappears. Here, everything is unknown. No one else can really see his heart.
Stretch your eyes, look over, see no white waves, see only that little sail, that shining bronze skin, keen eyes, skillful hook throwing action. He did not appreciate the so-called scenery. Perhaps he was used to it. He only fished in his heart.
As soon as the line was tight, he suddenly realized that he was turning to hold the line. “It must be a big fish!” But the big fish, pulling the line, swam very fast towards the distance at sea. The old man put his broad sole against the boat board, and though his left hand cramped, he still pulled the line. The big fish jumped as if it were about to break free from its shackles.
The old man tightened the fishing line again. “I will accompany you to death!” On the sea, the old man had no tools. He fought against the big fish with an insignificant fishing line.
Three days and three nights. At the last moment of exhaustion, the old man in sixty finally defeated the big fish and tied it to his side.
Marlins. The bloody smell of the big fish’s wounds continued to pervade the sea area.
On the way back, the hungry sharks came up one after another, and he tried his best to kill the predators one by one. When the old man returned to the shore, he brought back only a huge fish bone, a broken boat and a tired body.
He failed. But it also succeeded.
Santiago, the old man, is a winner who dares to challenge his own shortcomings, courage and confidence. He did not compromise to the sea, to the marlin, to the shark. Although the old man defeated the sea, the marlin and the shark, he was still the ultimate winner. As Beethoven said, “I can be destroyed, but I can’t be conquered.”
“Man can be destroyed, but not defeated.”
As far as the coast is concerned, the deep blue links with the distant sky, like a slowly rising blue plateau, shining with the luster of ancient glazed tiles like floods and wilderness, widening the boundless and infinite space.
