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Work-related

The Cultural Journey includes more than the author, written in 1992.

original text

I curse the ruins, and I sympathize with the ruins.

The ruins swallowed up my hopes and memories. Pieces of rubble are scattered among weeds, broken stone pillars stand in the sunset, and records in books and childhood fantasies are destroyed in the ruins. The glory of the past turned into ridicule, and the ancestors of entrepreneurship roared in the cold wind. As night fell, the unknown moon smiled bitterly and hid in the clouds, casting a shadow over the ruins.

But the accumulation of generations is not history. Ruins are destruction, burial, farewell and choice. The power of time should leave traces on the earth; The great ship of years should crush the bumps between lanes. Without ruins, there is no yesterday, and without yesterday, there is no today and tomorrow. Ruins are textbooks, let's read a geography as history; Ruins are a process, and life is to start from old ruins and move towards new ruins. At the beginning of the construction, I thought of its future decline, so the ruins are the destination; The renewal construction is based on the ruins, so the ruins are the starting point. Ruins are a long evolutionary chain.

A friend told me that he once walked into a famous ruin and looked up with tears in his eyes. The composition of this tear is very complicated. It's hatred, it's loss, and it's not entirely. The ruins show stubbornness, like a disabled tragic hero. The ruins show the vicissitudes of life and give people a glimpse of the faltering nation. The ruins are the instructions of the dying old man, so you can't help but be moved.

Ruins have a kind of formal beauty, which transforms the beauty from the earth into the beauty attached to the earth. If there are many teenagers, they will become dirt and completely integrate into the earth. The stage to be melted is ruins. The mother smiled to encourage her sons' creation and accepted it with a smile. The mother is afraid that her son will be too tired and the world will be too congested. Have you ever seen yellow leaves fluttering in autumn? Mothers are afraid of their cold and income. There is no autumn without yellow leaves, and the ruins are the yellow leaves of the building.

People say that the meaning of yellow leaves lies in feeding spring. I said, the yellow leaves themselves are beautiful.

Two friends argued in front of me. One said that he likes to walk alone among the ruins on the night when the stars and the moon are gone, or sing poems or songs until the east turns white; Another said that with the expectation of morning light, this kind of night outing would be gone. His habit is to take advantage of the twilight of the waning moon and find a path to walk back quietly.

As for me, I am older than them, and I don't have that kind of pride and courage. I am afraid that people will refresh, repair and rebuild all the ruins.

It is unimaginable that the Colosseum in ancient Rome needs to be rebuilt, the ancient city of Pompeii needs to be rebuilt, the Angkor Wat in Cambodia needs to be rebuilt, and the Mayan cultural sites need to be rebuilt.

It's like we can't imagine that the ancient bronzes in the distance need polishing, the unearthed broken halberd needs nickel plating, the books in the Song Dynasty need plastic surgery, and the old lady in the Han Dynasty in Mawangdui needs skin grafting, breast enhancement and heavy makeup.

As long as history does not stop and time does not go backwards, everything will age. When you are old, give the world a kind of beauty peacefully. Pretending to be naive is the cruelest form of self-abuse. Grandma without wrinkles is terrible, and old people without white hair are sorry. Life without ruins is too tired, and land without ruins is too crowded. Covering up the ruins is a big scam.

Let history return to reality and life return to the process.

-This is the great wisdom of mankind.

Of course, not all the remains are worth preserving. Otherwise the earth will be scarred. Ruins are envoys sent from ancient times to modern times, which have been selected and screened by historical kings. Ruins are feats launched by our ancestors, which gathered the local strength and essence at that time. The ruins smashed into powder are not ruins, but they should have the strongest ligament in history. Ruins can provide the possibility of reading, and the ruins exude the magnetic force that makes people linger. Yes, the ruins are a magnetic field, extremely ancient and modern, and the compass of the mind is strongly felt here. If you lose magnetism, you will lose the life of the ruins and will soon be eliminated.

Not all repairs are absurd. Carefully clean up, reinforce without showing traces, and then painstakingly design to keep the original flavor and easy to watch. This kind of work is a boon to the ruins, and the purpose of all work is to make it a veritable ruin, so that everyone is willing to mourn for it. Repairing always means some loss. It is the long-cherished wish of all real ruins restorers to minimize the damage. Not all reconstruction needs to be denied. If even the ruins are gone, it doesn't matter if we rebuild one to realize the ambition of modern people to swallow the past and the present. However, that's just the classical style of modern architects, with an old name, out of humor. The Yellow Crane Tower has been rebuilt and can be installed with elevators. If Epang Palace is rebuilt, it can be used as a hotel. If the Wang Teng Pavilion is rebuilt, it can open a shopping center. This has little to do with history. If there are both ruins and reconstruction, then I suggest that the ruins be preserved and rebuilt next door. It hurts to drive a bulldozer on the ruins.

Whether it is restoration or reconstruction, the essence of the remains lies in preservation. Yuanmingyuan site is one of the most historic cultural relics in Beijing. If it is completely razed and a brand-new Yuanmingyuan is built, it will not be worth the candle. The Qing dynasty is gone, the raging fire is gone, the national haze is gone, the historical feelings are gone, the story of last night is erased, and the dreams of the previous night are cleared. However, it is not last night's dream, but today's game.

China has always lacked site culture. The word ruins is very scary in Chinese.

Either winter is full of nostalgia or pragmatism. Those who yearn for the past only want to make use of the ancient present, while those who follow the times only want to destroy the ancient present. As a result, two wars and two defeats are afraid of injury, which not only hurts history, but also hurts modern times. Bloody and scarred, such a big country, in front of me, where are those lost times? Behind me, where are the future generations? I thought of heaven and earth, with no limit and no end. I was alone and my tears fell.

Leave some blank in the hearts of China people! Let the ancients leave a few footprints in modern times, and let modern times gaze at the ancients calmly. Ruins are nothing to be ashamed of. The ruins need not be covered. We are too good at covering up.

China's history is full of tragedies, but China people are afraid to see the real tragedy. In the end, everyone has a happy reunion to win emotional comfort and psychological satisfaction. Only Qu Yuan, Du Fu, Cao Xueqin, Kong, Lu Xun and Bai Xianyong did not want a happy reunion. They preserved the ruins and purified the tragedy, so there appeared truly profound literature.

There is no tragedy without tragedy, and there is no sublimity without tragedy. Xuefeng is great because the hillside is full of the remains of climbers; The sea is great, because there are sunken ships floating everywhere; The moon landing was great because of the fall of Challenger. Life is great, because there is white hair, farewell and helpless loss. Ancient Greece lived by the sea, and countless warriors who yearned for the other side went wave after wave, so there was a brilliant Greek tragedy.

Sincerely and frankly admit the failure after the struggle and the loss after the success, we will only be more calm. If China people want to become atmospheric, it is impossible to drive all the ruins out.

The survival of ruins is a symbol of modern civilization.

The ruins reflect the confidence of modern people.

Ruins will not stop the market and hinder progress. Modern people have a profound vision and know where they stand in history. He wouldn't imagine that a high platform would rise on the ground under his feet. Therefore, he is happy to look at all the steps behind him.

What touches the ruins is modern historical philosophy, and historical philosophy also needs to find materials. Only in the hustle and bustle of modern times can the tranquility of ruins have power; Only in the meditation of modern people can the ruins rise to fables.

So the ancient ruins are really modern buildings.

Modernity is not just a period of time. Modernity is tolerance, modernity is tolerance, modernity is vastness, and modernity is vastness.

We, with the ruins, are moving towards modernity.

Appreciation of the sentence: 1: "China has always lacked the ruins culture". The author stares at the cultural fault in China with sharp eyes. Yes, our nation has always liked to wander between two extremes, either thick today and thin today, or thick today and thin today. In the endless struggle, history is scarred and culture is fragmented. "A big country, before me, time has passed? Behind me, where are the future generations? And I think of heaven and earth, there is no limit, and I cry alone. "

2. "The ruins have a kind of formal beauty, which transforms the beauty of leaving the earth into the beauty of converting to the earth." Any expression of beauty, whether elegant or sublime, comic or tragic, only exists in people's vision, senses and psychology for a while. With the passage of time, any beauty will lose its magnificent color, turn into ruins, become a solidified and monotonous landscape, be held in the arms of the earth, and silently tell the latecomers everything in the past.

Prose 2: The Dream of Genius

Zhang ailing

I am an eccentric girl, and I have been regarded as a genius since I was a child. I have no other goal in life except developing my talent. However, when my childhood fantasy faded away, I found that I had nothing but the dream of genius-it was all the quirks of genius. The world forgave Vane's barbarism, but they won't forgive me.

With a little American publicity, maybe I will be called a child prodigy. I could recite Tang poems when I was three years old. I still remember standing unsteadily in front of an old man's cane chair in the Qing Dynasty, chanting "A merchant girl hates the motherland, but still sings flowers in the backyard crossing the river" and watching his tears roll down. When I was seven years old, I wrote my first novel, a family tragedy. When I come across words with complicated strokes, I often ask the chef how to write them. The second novel is about a lovelorn girl who committed suicide. My mother criticized that if she wanted to commit suicide, she would never take a train from Shanghai to the West Lake to commit suicide. But because of the poetic background of the West Lake, I finally stubbornly retained this point.

My only extracurricular reading materials are The Journey to the West and several fairy tales, but my mind is not bound by them. When I was eight years old, I tried a novel similar to Matobong, entitled Happy Village. Happy village people are bellicose plateau people. Because of their feats in conquering Miao people, they were chartered by Emperor China, exempted from taxes and given autonomy. Therefore, Happiness Village is a big family isolated from the outside world, cultivating and weaving by itself, and preserving the lively culture of tribal times.

I sewed half a dozen exercise books together, expecting a masterpiece, but I soon lost interest in this great subject. Now, I still have a few frames of my paintings, introducing the services, architecture and interior decoration of this ideal society, including the library, "martial arts hall", chocolate shop and roof garden. The dining room is a pavilion in the lotus pond. I don't remember whether there is a cinema or socialism there-they seem to have a good life without the products of these two civilizations.

When I was nine years old, I hesitated whether I should choose music or art as my lifelong career. After watching a movie about a poor painter, I cried and decided to become a pianist and play in a grand concert hall. I am extremely sensitive to colors, notes and words. When playing the piano, I want those eight notes to have different personalities, wearing bright hats and dancing hand in hand. I learn to write articles with strong colors and sonorous rhymes, such as Pearl Grey, Dusk, Graceful and Graceful, Brilliant and Melancholy, so I often make stacking mistakes. Until now, I still love watching Strange Tales from a Lonely Studio and tacky Paris fashion reports, just for this attractive word.

I got free development at school. My self-confidence grew stronger and stronger until I was sixteen, when my mother came back from France and looked at my daughter whom I hadn't seen for years.

"I regret taking care of your typhoid fever," she told me. "I'd rather see you die than live to suffer everywhere." I found that I couldn't peel apples, and I learned to mend socks after hard work. I'm afraid of going to the barber shop, meeting guests and trying on clothes for the tailor. Many people tried to teach me to knit, but none of them succeeded. After living in a room for two years, I still asked blankly where the bell was. I went to the hospital for injections by rickshaw every day for three months, but I still didn't know the way. To sum up, in the real society, I am equal to a waste.

My mother gave me two years to learn to adapt to the environment. She taught me to cook; Wash clothes with soap powder; Practice walking posture; Look at people's glances; Remember to close the curtains after lighting; Study facial expressions in the mirror; Don't tell jokes without humor genius.

I show amazing stupidity in my common sense of dealing with people. My two-year plan is a failed experiment. My mother's painful warning didn't affect me except that my mind was out of balance.

There is a part of the art of life that I can't appreciate. I know how to watch Clouds in July, listen to Scottish soldiers playing Bagby, enjoy rattan chairs in the breeze, eat salted peanuts, enjoy neon lights on rainy nights, and reach out from the double-decker bus to pick the green leaves at the top of the tree. When no one handed over, I was full of joy in life. But I can't overcome this little distress for a day. Life is a gorgeous robe full of fleas.

Appreciation of sentences: The author's "waddling" when he wrote a poem at the age of 3, and the "rolling tears" of the Manchu old man who listened to the poem, although sketched with a simple pen, are vivid. When composing music and playing the piano, "those eight notes have different personalities, wearing bright hats and dancing hand in hand". Personification brings the rich imagination of children's world to the extreme. At the end, the metaphor of "life is a gorgeous robe, full of fleas" surprises you and makes you feel terrible-why is 19 so vicissitudes and sad? But this is Zhang Ailing's language-a unique and highly personalized language.