What is the function of the first sentence in Yu Pingbo's "Hitting the Oranges"

Answer: The function of the first sentence in Yu Pingbo's "Strike the Oranges" is: "Strike the Oranges". This article begins with a quotation from Zhang Dai's "Tao'an Dream Memories". Zhang Dai, named Tao'an, was a poet in the Ming Dynasty. remnants. Through recalling the past, his works express his nostalgia for the past and his nostalgia for his hometown. Yu Pingbo quoted Zhang Dai's "Tao'an Dream Memories" to set the nostalgic tone for the entire text of "Striking Oranges".

Attachment: The original text of Yu Pingbo's "Striking Oranges":

Tao An said: "Those in the Qing Dynasty in Yue who have no excess greed like to eat local things." One of them is Tangqi honey. Orange. (See Dream Memories Volume 4) I often ate these oranges when I was a child, and my grandmother was from Tangqi. Oranges are named after honey, but they are not like honey, and I don’t like them because they are as sweet as honey. Maybe in the Ming Dynasty, oranges were really sweet, or today when I eat "Shutou Xian" in Tangqi, it's not too sweet, but I have never tasted it. All I remember is that the oranges looked like this: they were as small as a child's fist and could be held in a small hand. They had extremely thin skin, bright yellow color, and slightly flat shape. Some of them even had a small pedicle and one or two green leaves, and were tender in texture. The tendons are thin, the water is very high, and it has a soft and fresh taste in the mouth. What I'm not satisfied with is that it's not sweet. Maybe it's because I like sweets too much.

The mandarin oranges I ate when I was a child were always packed in baskets, and I ate them for nothing. Compared with the past events in Hangzhou mentioned here, it is a bit strange. If we look back to the past again, it is like changing the past. A world has passed.

The owner of No. 3 Chengtou Lane, Mr. Zhu, probably also likes oranges, so he planted seven or eight orange trees there. Its type is not pond habitat, but the so-called Huangyan. It turns out that what is commonly seen in Hangzhou is the "Huangyan Mandarin Orange". But according to Mr. K, one of the oranges at No. 3 Chengtou Lane is Huangyan and the others are not. I can’t recall the one and the other to tell the difference. Should I question it to Mr. Zhu?

From The orange tree was planted in two places. It seems that Mr. K’s words are not completely unfounded. One is in the square patio facing our dining room. The rectangular patio is paved with stone slabs, with a row of orange trees on the east wall and two terraces on the northeast. The treetops are about the same as the balcony on the platform, and we are touching it with our arms stretched out. In this courtyard, I used to play sticks, play small rubber balls, play tug-of-war with bamboo poles, and chase yellow cats... It's a pity that the fun never left any traces, even though I always felt unspeakable confusion in my heart, even though they were few Individuals may have somewhat similar feelings in their hearts. Those who came later saw only a square stone patio, not to mention any soft traces of dreams!

The other one is at the far north corner of the garden pavilion, beside the Taihu Mountain rocks. It seems there are not as many as the square patio. There is a row over there, but there are only a few orange trees here. The place is relatively remote and not as coveted as the important location over there, so it is slightly less famous. But our footprints are not uncommon around the pavilion. We have tackled key problems, protected Tang Monk, fired water cannons, and even thrown cabbage peels. It is said that the vegetables that were left to be dried for pickling were particularly delicious one year, and they were all filled with cabbage hearts. So why? Even the skin was used as a weapon by us.

The oranges in these two places are not necessarily Huangyan. Today, I only remember Huangyan. To be honest, I don’t remember what Huangyan is: it’s just a small orange. Little orange, little orange, another little orange.

The skin of Huangyan tangerine is quite firm, not as smooth and soft as Tangqi’s, and it doesn’t look like honey when it’s pickled in your mouth. The girls and gentlemen who live with me all have a bit of a fruit addiction, and they just eat them, no matter what. But I am not like that. Although oranges are my favorite among all fruits, they are still not as good as them, and they are still not good. This is a bit irritating, so I might as well just write about my "beating oranges". As for the taste, I won't tell you! ——As if I had never eaten an orange before.

In late autumn, which is already desolate but not yet cold, the orange trees are gradually turning yellow. This half-yellow orange is where the slogan "Come and eat" is posted. We took thin bamboo poles to hit oranges. We raised our heads and looked at the oranges in the green shade for a while, and two or three bald ones came down.

Red, yellow, red and yellow, green, half green and half yellow, big, small, slightly round, very flat, with leaves, with handles, without anything, one drop Those that are broken, those that fall but are not broken, all are there, all are there, share it when it is good, grab it when it is bad, and grab it when it is not. Rob, snatch from the ground, snatch, snatch from the hand, so eat the orange and snatch it, snatch it down. Sometimes I don't go to hunt, but I see someone else suddenly has an orange in his hand. I walk over and say "I'll eat it!" without asking for any reason. I give him half an orange, or even a few pieces.

I am so excited that I have already forgotten the platform. Didn't I say that the outside of the small platform is protected by orange leaves? But whoever wants to eat the oranges can reach out and reach out. It seems that the right thing to do is to grab the oranges. How can I catch them? "But it's not the case." No matter what, the oranges with the wrong angles in the garden must be struck. Even in the case of a square patio, only a few branches close to the railing can be harvested. If it is a little further away, it will be out of reach, and the farther away it is, the harder it is to reach. Moreover, the oranges near the stem are always sparse and pitiful, and the reason is unknown. There may be people who "get the moon first when they are near the water or the tower", according to legend.

There is a way to beat oranges. If it is light, it will not fall; if it is serious, it must be broken. Sometimes we have clearly knocked it down, but we don’t know where it landed, or it may still be among the branches and leaves of the tree. This kind of thing makes us stretch our heads and waist, looking up and down. Although it is troublesome, it is also funny. Wouldn't it be a bit boring if you could just lift the pole and strike once, and it would always land exactly in the palm of your hand?

However, hitting with a pole is too inaccurate after all. Often it is obvious that a bright red orange is somewhere neither high nor short, but when you hit it with a pole, it is still not there, and if you hit it again, it is still not there. The orange leaves are scattered all over the ground, and they will be smashed for a while and then fall off. What falls off must be a tattered thing, which is far different from our expectations of a bright red orange. I don’t know who came up with a good idea. Wrap a long lead wire loop around the tip of the pole. As long as you can see it accurately, hold it firmly, and pull it down, you will definitely get the orange you want to eat. Follow your heart. Whatever you want, pursue it according to the picture, so as not to bring disaster to the fish in the pond. But when you pull it to eat, it often comes down with branches and leaves, which is a bit unfair to the orange tree.

There are so many ways to eat them, so don’t think that all the oranges there were eaten by just a few of us. The birds eat first, then the workers. By the time we come to catch and pull them, it’s already leftovers. Therefore, I use extravagant words to delay the readers' efforts to save the country. I feel that it is not very flattering and my face is dull. But let me be more blunt and say that the past events recorded here are only written for those who are predestined to them, and I do not expect to have such good luck to be included in the ranks of revolutionary literature. If someone actually guesses from this poor writing that the heart of the dream is divided into two parts, and even feels that "this has a bit of flavor", it goes without saying that this is an "unexpected" gain for me. Is it at the end of the sky? Is it at the corner of the sea? Is it within easy reach? Who can know!

To be honest, the short period of life before and after playing oranges is exactly the combination of my youthful hot flashes and childishness. On the one hand, my childhood mood is vaguely swirling, but mixed with helplessness. A sense of desolation. Only in this way, I have to solemnly express my love for my dear daughter, even though the world is filled with loneliness.

Two or three years passed unknowingly while eating oranges. I was running around from north to south and east to west, and I felt that the years passed so fast, inexplicably fast. Not long after moving to Hulou, the people in Jiangsu and Zhejiang, who had lived in peace and contentment for several years, began to hear the sound of cannons on the Huangdu River. After we went to the house at No. 3, Chengtou Lane, the owner did not come, leaving it empty and closed. Dozens of games of chess in Liuyiquan and several volumes of broken scriptures in Leifeng Pagoda not only easily and easily wiped out Can Xia, but Qiurong also gradually grew older. I could hear people in Hangzhou moving to Shanghai. The weather was getting colder, the tourists were sparse, and the lakes and mountains were so quiet that I felt sleepy. One day, I went to the city and happened to pass by my old residence. I wandered in. The old man who looked after the door, whom everyone called him "the old lady", actually recognized me. The main house and the entire area have been sealed off, and you can only walk in through the garden. Needless to say, the pavilions, pools and pavilions are deserted, and it is already a bit strange after only half a year. I also walked up the stairs, turned around the platform, and saw that I had lived in the upper room in the south side of the high-rise building opposite, with the windows closed. It feels strangely familiar now, the trees are full of red oranges.

Just hit them one or two more! But what about the bamboo poles and the lead wire? Besides, although the square patio is right in front of your eyes, the door leading there is deeply locked, so even if you knock down the oranges, there will be nowhere to find them. I hesitated and looked around. Except for the old lady who followed me, it was my own shadow. I felt that there was nothing I could say. After resting for a while, I approached the balcony and barely reached an orange. I held it in my hand and looked down. It was red and round, with short handles of small green leaves. I carried it and slowly walked out as usual, returned to Yulou, and placed it on the desk.

It turns out that Man Dazhuang brought it back to everyone to see and tell everyone about it, but Mr. H was already ill at that time, and he never saw the orange. In the rush and misery, who else would listen to my song "Looking for Dreams" slowly? The orange has been traced for a long time but has not been found. I probably ate it by myself and just thought it was lost. I have never been to House No. 3 on Chengtou Lane since then.

It has been another four years since I arrived in Beijing, and the red oranges in Jiangnan should have grown bigger. Of course, the same is true for those who hit oranges. Everyone is pursuing their own way and busy with their middle-aged lives. I wonder if they can still think about this? If they really can, then they will. What did it come out? If I talk about myself, after a few days of lazy sleep, I finally wrote this article. I really couldn’t figure out why, so I had no choice but to hand in the paper numbly.