other works by Samuel Beckett, T. S. Eliot and Franz Kafka. ‘If it is indeed the case, as Beckett said, and as Proust showed, that only he who forgets remembers, then’, Josipovici wonders, ‘do we have to accept that in a sense we today, as Nietzsche argued, can neither forget nor remember, neither sleep properly nor be properly awake?’ On both a literary and a psychological level Josipovici’s book teases out these problems. It is a pity that much recent scholarship from the past decade in the nascent interdisciplinary field of memory studies goes undiscussed, but Josipovici’s approach ploughs a distinctly personal furrow. Later chapters of Forgetting prefigure recent flare-ups in contemporary society’s ongoing culture wars in their invocation of controversies around the erection and removal of statues of historical figures. One senses where Josipovici’s sympathies may lie, for example, in the case of the Cecil Rhodes statue in Oxford – ‘if it causes offence to some and is worthless as art, why not do away with it?’ (p. 92) – but he remains for the most part a dispassionate observer of the furore. Of the transformation of the Auschwitz concentration camp into a site of pilgrimage and tourism Josipovici is more critical. He is also troubled by the memorial to the 9/11 attacks at Ground Zero in New York City due to the rousing Mission Statement that forms part of its display and explicitly directs visitors how to respond. He offers a more positive critique of the Holocaust memorial in Berlin and the Judenplatz memorial to the murdered Jews of Austria in Vienna, praising how these installations allow visitors to choose how they engage with them: ‘its strength lies precisely in the fact that it can evoke one feeling one day and another the next, and often several feelings at once. It calls us into dialogue with it, with ourselves, with the clouds in the sky above. That, today, with so fraught a subject for commemoration, is quite an achievement’ (p. 114). The more a memorial can shoulder the debilitating burden of memory, the more effective it is, in Josipovici’s view; by relieving us of the need to remember all of the time, it allows us to forget some of the time, a function not dissimilar to that performed by gravestones. In a final series of meditations on the burial of the dead and on haunting, Josipovici draws on the work of Eliot, Muriel Spark and Wallace Stevens to offer an eloquent endorsement of the necessity of letting go, even if trying to imagine forgetting seems as paradoxical as imagining not imagining. As Josipovici points out in his final chapter, our final letting go will occur sooner or later, whether we like it or not; art and literature thus go some way towards mitigating that ultimate forgetting.

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书评：尼古拉斯·兰伯特：军阀与加里波利灾难：全球化贸易如何导致英国在第一次世界大战中遭遇最惨败

Samuel Beckett、TS Eliot 和 Franz Kafka 的其他作品。“如果确实如贝克特所说和普鲁斯特所表明的那样，只有忘记的人才能记住，那么，”约西波维奇想知道，“我们是否必须接受，在某种意义上，正如尼采所说，我们今天既不能忘记也不记得，既不能好好睡觉，也不能好好清醒？在文学和心理层面，约西波维奇的书梳理了这些问题。遗憾的是，过去十年在新兴的跨学科记忆研究领域的许多最新学术成果都没有得到讨论，但 Josipovici 的方法显然开辟了个人的沟壑。《遗忘》的后面章节预示了当代社会正在进行的文化战争中最近的爆发，他们援引了围绕历史人物雕像的竖立和拆除的争议。例如，在牛津的塞西尔·罗德斯雕像的案例中，约西波维奇的同情可能在哪里？（第 92 页）——但他在很大程度上仍然是狂热的冷静观察者。将奥斯威辛集中营改造成朝圣和旅游地点的约西波维奇更为关键。他还对纽约市归零地 9/11 袭击事件的纪念馆感到不安，因为它的展示部分包含激动人心的使命宣言，并明确指导游客如何应对。他对柏林的大屠杀纪念馆和维也纳被谋杀的奥地利犹太人的犹太广场纪念碑提出了更积极的批评，称赞这些装置如何让游客选择与他们互动的方式：“它的力量恰恰在于它可以一天唤起一种感觉，下一天唤起另一种感觉，而且常常是同时唤起几种感觉。它呼唤我们与它、与我们自己、与天空中的云进行对话。在今天，有如此充满纪念的主题，这是一项相当大的成就”（第 114 页）。在 Josipovici 看来，纪念馆越能承担起使人衰弱的记忆负担，它就越有效。通过减轻我们对所有时间的记忆的需要，它可以让我们忘记一些时间，这一功能与墓碑所执行的功能没有什么不同。在对死者的埋葬和困扰的最后一系列冥想中，乔西波维奇借鉴了艾略特、穆里尔·斯帕克和华莱士·史蒂文斯的作品，雄辩地支持了放手的必要性，即使试图想象遗忘似乎和想象不想象一样自相矛盾。正如乔西波维奇在他的最后一章中指出的那样，无论我们喜不喜欢，我们最终的放手迟早都会发生；因此，艺术和文学在某种程度上有助于减轻这种终极遗忘。