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迪文小说>我的名字是红色 > 第35部分(第1页)

第35部分(第1页)

Esther’s grandmother had emigrated; it seems dreams were used as an excuse

to  prove  heretics  met  with  the  Devil  and  made  love。  For  example;  even  if

Esther’s  forebears  denied  their  Jewishness  by  declaring;  “We’ve  bee

Catholics   like   you;”   the   Jesuit   torturers   of   the   Portuguese   Church;

unconvinced;  would  torture  them;  forcing  them  to  describe  the  jinns  and

demons  of  their  dreams;  as  well  as  burdening  them  with  dreams  they  never

had。  Then  they’d  force  the  Jews  to  confess  these  dreams  so  in  the  end  they

could burn them at the stake。 In this way; dreams could be manipulated over

there; to show that people were having sex with the Devil and to accuse and

condemn Jews。

Dreams are good for three things:

ALIF:

You  want  something  but  you  just  can’t  ask  for  it。  So  you’ll  say  that

you’ve dreamed about it。 In this manner; you can ask for what you want

without actually asking for it。

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The  dreams  we  recount  are  never  the  ones  we  actually  see  in  our  sleep。

When  people  say  they’ve  “seen  it;”  they  simply  describe  the  dream  that  is

“dreamed” during the day; and there’s always an underlying purpose。 Only an

idiot would describe his actual nighttime dreams exactly as he’s had them。 If

you do; everyone will make fun of you or; as always; interpret the dream as a

bad  omen。  No  one  takes  real  dreams  seriously;  including  those  who  dream

them。 Or; pray tell; do you?

Through a dream that I half…heartedly recounted; I hinted that my husband

might  truly  be  dead。  Though  my  father  at  first  wouldn’t  accept  this  as  an

indication  of  the  truth;  after  returning  from  the  funeral;  he  was  suddenly

persuaded by the evidence of the dream; and concluded that my husband was

indeed  dead。  Thus;  everyone  not  only  believed  that  my  husband;  who  was

virtually  immortal  these  past  four  years;  had  died  in  a  dream;  they  couldn’t

have been more certain of his death had it been officially announced。 It was

only  then  that  the  boys  truly  realized  that  they’d  been  left  fatherless。  It  was

then that they truly began to grieve。

“Do you ever have dreams?” I asked Shevket。

“Yes;”  he  said  smiling。  “My  father  doesn’t  return  home;  and  I  end  up

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