| | Golden Rose (3rd Jan 23 at 2:29am UTC) | | The dimness of the Hermitage's lobby, with its slightly gilded color, gave me a sense of the divine. I went to the Hermitage like a repository of human genius. In the Hermitage Museum, when I was young, I felt for the first time that I was happy to be a person. At the same time, I understand how people can be great and good. At first I was often lost in the luxurious ranks of painters. The richness and intensity of the colors made me dizzy. In order to have a rest, I went to sit in the hall, where the sculptures were on display. I sat there for a long time. The longer I look at the sculptures of the unknown sculptors of ancient Greece, or the women of Canova who can barely see their smiles, the more clearly I understand that all these sculptures are a call to seek beauty in themselves, and are the harbingers of the purest morning glow of mankind. At that time, poetry will rule the human heart, and the social system, which we are moving towards through adult labor, busyness and mental tension, will be based on the beauty of justice, wisdom, heart,Stainless Steel Squatting Pan, human relations and human body. Our way is the way to the golden age. The golden age will come. Of course, it's a pity that we won't live to see it. But we are happy, because the wind of this era has been ringing around us, making our hearts beat harder. No wonder Heine went to the Louvre and sat for a long time crying in front of the statue of Venus in Milos. What are you crying about? Crying is the perfection of a person who has been insulted. Crying is that the road to perfection is difficult and far away, and he, Heine, who has given people the poison and brilliance of his wisdom,stainless steel squatting pan, of course, has not reached the heaven that his restless mind has been longing for all his life. The power of sculpture lies in this-without the internal flame of this power, progressive art, especially the art of our country, is inconceivable. Similarly, without the internal flame of this power, the prose full of color is inconceivable. Before talking about the influence of poetry on prose, I would like to say a few words about music, which is sometimes inseparable from poetry. This brief discussion of music has to be confined to what we call the rhythm and musicality of prose. Real prose always has its own rhythm. Rhythm requires, first of all, that the words be arranged so that the reader can easily understand them all at once. When Chekhov wrote to Gorky, he said this: "The novel should be clear (in the reader's consciousness) all at once, in a second." The reader should not pause in the middle of the reading to restore the correct order of the words appropriate to the nature of a passage. In short, Stainless Steel Shower Tray ,Stainless Steel Toilet Sink Combo, the writer should keep the reader nervous and lead them, and there should be no obscure and rhythmless places in the work, so that the reader can not stop and break away from the writer's domination. It is the writer's task, the function of prose, to create this tension, to possess the reader, to make the reader think and feel the same as the author. I think the rhythm of prose can never be achieved by artificial methods. The rhythm of prose depends on talent, on the sense of language, and on a good "writer's hearing". This kind of good hearing, to some extent, has something in common with musical hearing. But it is poetry that most enriches the language of prose writers. Poetry has an amazing quality. It restores a word to its original virgin freshness. One of the most damaged and "vulgar" words, even if it has lost its image to us and remains as a shell of language, begins to emit brilliance, sound and fragrance once it is put into poetry! I don't know how to explain this. I think a word can be revived in two situations. The first case is when the power of its speech is restored. And this is far easier in poetry that can be recited than in prose. Therefore, language has a stronger effect on us in ballads and lyrics than in ordinary words. In the second case, if even a damaged word is put into the line of the melodic music of poetry, it seems to fill the common melody of poetry and begins to sound in harmony with all the other words. In addition, poetry is rich in alliteration. This is one of the precious advantages of poetry. Prose also has the right to use alliteration. But that's not the main point.
The main point is that when prose reaches perfection, it is really poetry. Chekhov considered Lermontov's Taman and Pushkin's Captain's Daughter as proof of the kinship between prose and rich Russian poetry. Pulixiwen once said (in a private letter) that he was "a poet crucified on the cross of prose." "I never know where the line is between prose and poetry," said Leo Tolstoy. He asked, in the diary of his youth, with a zeal that was rare to him: Why are poetry and prose, happiness and misfortune, so closely linked? How should I live? Do you suddenly try to combine poetry and prose, or do you enjoy poetry first and then commit yourself to prose? There is a place in fantasy that is higher than reality, and there is a place in reality that is higher than fantasy, and complete happiness should be a combination of both. In these words, though hurriedly spoken, there is a correct idea: only the organic integration of poetry and prose, or more correctly, prose full of the essence of poetry, the vivid essence of poetry, the clear breath, and the "fascinating" power of poetry can be the most noble and moving phenomenon in literature and the real happiness. I am not afraid to use the word "captive" on this occasion. For poetry will capture man, subjugate him, raise him imperceptibly, but irresistibly, and bring him gradually closer to the state in which man truly becomes the glorifier of the earth, or, as our ancestors innocently but sincerely put it, "the soul of all things.". There is some truth in Vladimir Odoyevsky's statement that "poetry is the harbinger of the moment when man ceases to pursue and begins to apply the results he has obtained.". wwＷ、xiaoshuotxt.com Chapter 20 in the trunk of a truck. Small, say t,Flush Retrofit Kit, xt, day, Tang. cnkexin.com | |
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