The Mermaid Chair

　　為了真愛與自由，你願意向下沉淪嗎？這是一本媲美《刺鳥》、《麥迪遜之橋》、《斷背山》的唯美浪漫小說，引人深入心靈未知的領域。

　　傳說在白鷺島上有座小修道院叫「聖罪惡修道院」(St. Sin)，裡面有把美人魚曾經坐過的椅子，任何人只要坐上去，就能得到幸福。

　　潔西其實已經很幸福了，至少別人都這麼認為，擁有愛她的丈夫、可愛的小孩，但她「循規蹈矩，過著刻板狹隘的生活，從未做過令自己讚嘆的事」。直到有一天，她坐上了這把椅子後，一切都改變了。她愛上一個即將宣誓的修士，禁忌的愛讓她沉淪，讓她轟轟烈烈墜落、奮不顧身向下俯衝……

　　美人魚椅子的神力只是傳說嗎？還是它真能改變潔西的人生？其揭露的秘密不但溯及她母親傷痛過往的根源，但更重要的是，潔西的自我將因而靈肉合一。

　　《美人魚的椅子》以女性心靈豐富但未知的領域為題材，對於美人魚與聖人，心靈的激情與肉體的狂喜，有諸多生動的想像，闡述一個女人對深埋的自我的覺醒，其下筆之燦爛鮮活，也唯有像蘇．夢．奇德如此傑出的作家才辦得到。

★本書中譯本《美人魚的椅子》由遠流出版。

作者簡介

蘇．夢．奇德（Sue Monk Kidd, 1948, 8, 12~）

　　美國當代著名的小說家，出生於喬治亞州的小鎮席維斯特(Sylvester)，一個被她暱稱為永恆不渝的地方。故鄉的風土，日後深深影響她的創作。

　　奇德的文學啟蒙相當早，自十三歲聽父親天馬行空講述故事起，就渴望成為作家。但因勇氣不足，並受到六○年代末南方的文化氛圍影響，便選擇了傳統的人生道路；大學主修護理，畢業後在大醫院擔任護士。但寫作的慾望，始終難以壓抑，終於在三十歲生日那天，向丈夫和兩個孩子宣布：「我要成為作家。」而後奇德便循序而緩慢地朝作家之路邁進。

　　她先成為《Guidepost》雜誌的編輯，繼而推出兩部深獲肯定的回憶錄，然而小說創作才是她最終的志向。1997年她開始寫第一部小說《蜂蜜罐上的聖瑪利》，2002年出版後立即造成轟動，不但贏得2004年Book Sense最佳平裝書獎，並暢銷四百五十萬冊，在《紐約時報》暢銷排行榜上蟬聯兩年多。而第二部小說《美人魚的椅子》，不但銷售勝過《蜂蜜罐上的聖瑪利》，更讓奇德摘下2005年鵝毛筆獎小說類的文學桂冠。

　　若說《蜂蜜罐上的聖瑪利》是一個女孩的成長小說，那麼《美人魚的椅子》便是一個女人探索生命自由、真愛、性與靈的歷程。書中充滿南方的生動意象：嗡嗡作響的昆蟲、俯衝低飛的鳥兒，以及荒漠中的綠洲，彷彿一幅生命織錦，在許多層面深入我們的靈魂，令人不由得一再反芻。

　　奇德曾榮獲無數獎項：Anne Porter Award詩人及作家獎、Bread Loaf獎金、南卡羅萊納「小棕櫚會」獎（此乃該州公民的最高榮譽）等。作品曾獲有「圖書界奧斯卡獎」之稱的鵝毛筆獎，並入選2002年英國柑橘文學獎(Orange Prize)、國際IMPAC都柏林文學獎提名。

　　她目前居住在美國南卡羅萊納州查爾斯頓市附近。

　　作者官網：www.suemonkkidd.com

　　A dazzling novel of passion and spirituality—the instant blockbuster bestseller from the author of The Secret Life of Bees

　　Sue Monk Kidd’s phenomenal debut, The Secret Life of Bees, became a runaway bestseller that is still on the New York Times bestseller list more than two years after its paperback publication. Now, in her luminous new novel, Kidd has woven a transcendent tale that will thrill her legion of fans. Telling the story of Jessie Sullivan—a love story between a woman and a monk, a woman and her husband, and ultimately a woman and her own soul—Kidd charts a journey of awakening and self-discovery illuminated with a brilliance that only a writer of her ability could conjure.

From the Back Cover

"Book clubs, start your engines. . . . [The Mermaid Chair] is a tapestry strengthened by bonds between women that bridge pain and loss."—USA Today

"The pages all but turn themselves."—Parade

"Soulful in its probing of the human heart."—San Francisco Chronicle

"Kidd draws connections from the feminine to the divine to the erotic that a lesser writer wouldn’t see, and might not have the guts to follow."—Time

"It’s hard to put this book down for things like eating and sleeping."—Elle

About the Author

　　Sue Monk Kidd’s debut novel, The Secret Life of Bees, has sold more than 3,500,000 copies. She is also the author of several acclaimed memoirs and the recipient of numerous awards, including the Poets & Writers award.

　　本書講述的是1964年發生在南卡羅來納州的故事。女主角莉莉的生活因某天下午她母親的過世而完全改變。

　　熱心的黑人羅薩琳扮演著她母親的角色，因為羅薩琳對鎮上三名極端的種族歧視者無禮，莉莉決定帶著羅薩琳遠走他鄉。她們逃到南卡羅來納州蒂伯龍──這個小鎮隱藏著她母親過去的點點滴滴。特立獨行的養蜂黑人三姊妹收留了她們，於是莉莉走入了她們神奇的世界中：那裡有蜜蜂、蜂蜜還有黑色瑪利亞。

　　在莉莉居住的期間，她發覺黑人三姊妹與她母親之間有著某種的關係，於是，她想知道母親過往的點點滴滴、是否遺棄了她，以及自己是否真的殺害了母親。只是在真相揭曉的那一刻，卻也帶給莉莉莫大的傷害。

作者簡介

蘇．蒙克．奇德（Sue Monk Kidd）

　　為紐約時報暢銷作家，她的2本作品《The Dance of the Dissident Daughter》、《When the Heart Waits》一推出即受到高度肯定。而她的The Secret Life of Bees（《蜂蜜罐上的聖瑪利》，新苗） 曾入選2002年英國柑橘文學獎(Orange Prize)。 本書為其最新的小說《The Mermaid Chair》。 目前居住在美國南卡羅來納州。曾榮獲：Anne Porter Award詩人及作家獎、Bread Loaf獎金 。

Chapter One
February 17, 1988, I opened my eyes and heard a procession of sounds: first the phone going off on the opposite side of the bed, rousing us at 5:04 a.m. to what could only be a calamity, then rain pummeling the roof of our old Victorian house, sluicing its sneaky way to the basement, and finally small puffs of air coming from Hughs lower lip, each one perfectly timed, like a metronome.

Twenty years of this puffing. Id heard it when he wasnt even asleep, when he sat in his leather wing chair after dinner, reading through the column of psychiatric journals rising from the floor, and it would seem like the cadence against which my entire life was set.

The phone rang again, and I lay there, waiting for Hugh to pick up, certain it was one of his patients, probably the paranoid schizophrenic whod phoned last night convinced the CIA had him cornered in a federal building in downtown Atlanta.

A third ring, and Hugh fumbled for the receiver. ＂Yes, hello,＂ he said, and his voice came out coarse, a hangover from sleep.

I rolled away from him then and stared across the room at the faint, watery light on the window, remembering that today was Ash Wednesday, feeling the inevitable rush of guilt. My father had died on Ash Wednesday when I was nine years old, and in a convoluted way, a way that made no sense to anyone but me, it had been at least partially my fault.

There had been a fire on his boat, a fuel-tank explosion, theyd said. Pieces of the boat had washed up weeks later, including a portion of the stern with Jes-Sea printed on it. Hed named the boat for me, not for my brother, Mike, or even for my mother, whom hed adored, but for me, Jessie.

I closed my eyes and saw oily flames and roaring orange light. An article in the Charleston newspaper had referred to the explosion as suspicious, and there had been some kind of investigation, though nothing had ever come of it-things Mike and Id discovered only because wed sneaked the clipping from Mothers dresser drawer, a strange, secret place filled with fractured rosaries, discarded saint medals, holy cards, and a small statue of Jesus missing his left arm. She had not imagined we would venture into all that broken-down holiness.

I went into that terrible sanctum almost every day for over a year and read the article obsessively, that one particular line: ＂Police speculate that a spark from his pipe may have ignited a leak in the fuel line.＂

Id given him the pipe for Fathers Day. Up until then he had never even smoked.

I still could not think of him apart from the word ＂suspicious,＂ apart from this day, how hed become ash the very day people everywhere-me, Mike, and my mother-got our foreheads smudged with it at church. Yet another irony in a whole black ensemble of them.