“One holds the knife as one holds the bow of a cello or a tulip by the stem. Not palmed nor gripped nor grasped, but lightly, with the tips of the fingers. The knife is not for pressing. It is for drawing across the field of skin. Like a slender fish, it waits, at the ready, then, go! It darts, followed by a fine wake of red . The flesh parts , falling away to yellow globules of fat.”
手术台上皮开肉绽的血淋淋场景，竟然能够用如此诗意盎然的文字飞舞轻扬地娓娓道来！我仿佛看到理查德塞尔泽医生手中那把闪着寒光的手术刀幻化成一管如走龙蛇的生花妙笔。
这篇节选自他的《关于开刀艺术的笔记》的抒情散文，是继《当呼吸化为空气》后我读到的另一篇出自医生手笔的美文。
“A stillness settles in my heart and is carried to my hand. It is the quietude of resolve layered over fear. And it is this resolve that lowers us, my knife and me, deeper and deeper into the person beneath. It is an entry into the body that is nothing like a caress; still, it is among the gentlest of acts. Then stroke and stroke again, and we are joined by other instruments, hemostats and forceps, until the wound blooms with strange flowers whose looped handles fall to the sides in steely array.”
“And there is color. The green of the cloth, the white of the sponges, the red and yellow of the body. ”
刀过无痕，随后是一道殷红渗出，紧接着皮肤的田野被翻犁开来，露出下面脂肪的黄土地，伤口盛开出奇葩异卉。绿色的消毒纱布，白色的吸血海绵，红黄的肌肉皮肤，. . . 。医生笔下的手术台，依稀变成米勒风格的田园风光画面。
“Such a primitive place. One expects to find drawings of buffalo on the walls. The sense of trespassing is keener now, heightened by the worlds light illuminating the organs, their secret colors revealed maroon and salmon and yellow. The vista is sweetly vulnerable at this moment, a kind of welcoming. An arc of liver shines high and on the right, like a dark sun. It laps over the pink sweep of the stomach, from whose lower border the gauzy omentum is draped, and through which veil one sees, sinuous, slow as just-fed snakes, the indolent coils of the intestine.”
塞尔泽医生的文字很有蒙太奇的电影画面感。被切开的腹腔被切换成山顶洞人的洞穴，墙壁上涂满野牛的壁画。肝脏像一轮褐色的太阳，覆盖在粉红色的胃上，胃下方镶着一圈薄纱似的腹网膜，透过它可以隐约看到如蛰伏冬眠的蛇群般盘桓的大肠。
“You turn aside to wash your gloves. It is a ritual cleansing. One enters this temple doubly washed. Here is man as microcosm, representing in all his parts the Earth, perhaps the universe.
I must confess that the priestliness of my profession has ever been impressed on me. In the beginning there are vows, taken with all solemnity. Then there is the endless harsh novitiate of training, much fatigue, much sacrifice. At last one emerges as a celebrant, standing close to the truth lying curtained in the ark of the body. Not surplice and cassock but mask and gown are your regalia. You hold no chalice, but a knife. There is no wine, no wafer. There are only the facts of blood and flesh.”
都说医生是“白衣天使”，手术室就是他的神殿，在手术台上操刀的医生，其庄严神圣感堪比祭坛上的牧师。眼下横陈的那具肉身，不就是刚从十字架放下来的吗？医生身上的白大褂不就是法衣长袍吗？医生手上拿的不是圣餐杯，换成一把刀子。医生不需要圣餐饼和葡萄酒，他直面的就是活生生的血与肉！
俗话说：“笔比剑利。”塞尔泽医生的笔，即使没有比他手中的手术刀锋利，至少有同样穿透人心的力量。
