How are girls’ clothes described in the novel?

Shen Congwen's "Looking at the Rainbow" (one of the several articles criticized by Guo Moruo at that time) has a description of this aspect in "Qishu". Take a look at it yourself. From what I have read, I feel that it is necessary to combine clothes with people. Clothes and people's external image and inner temperament are a whole, but the style is not necessarily unified (a person who is gorgeously dressed may be despicable), so be it, I also Just talking about my experience.

Kanhonglu

A form of a person’s life within twenty-four o’clock

Shen Congwen

The first quarter at 10 p.m. One o'clock.

I returned from another place half an hour ago. Not far from my home, I passed an old-fashioned archway and saw the clear moonlight. I was very moved, so I stood under the archway for a while. There is a lively vegetable market during the day, but it seems empty and quiet at night. The emptiness seemed to expand my feelings, while the silence turned the intangible and qualityless "feelings" compressed in a bunch of time into something weighty. Suddenly I smelled the fragrance of plum blossoms, which led me to gaze into the "emptiness". Slowly walking towards the "emptiness", I entered a small courtyard, a simple house, near a stove.

In that simple little house, the fragrance of plum blossoms is overflowing.

It was like a New Year's Eve, with various artillery sounds exploding in the cold air from far and near. In absolute solitude, I began to read a strange book. I cautiously opened the first page of the book. There was an inscription, which was written clearly: "God is in our lives."

Section 2

Hearth Fire At the beginning of the day, the room is as warm as spring, making people want to take off a thicker dress and put on another thinner one. The light under the orange-red lampshade coats the walls, carpets and other visible objects in the small room with a secluded color, filling it with an secluded air.

On the vermilion lacquer-striped table near the window, a small yellow lemon was placed in an autumn leaf-shaped porcelain dish, so there was still some lemon spiciness in the air.

The curtains have drooped, and pastel horses are painted on the light brown curtains, as if they are galloping in front of the people in the room. When the guest arrives at this place, he is completely immersed in a strange state of loneliness. But in just a moment, this state of mind disappeared from the guest's mind. It turned out that the owner didn't know when Qing Qiao quietly walked into the room, and a shadow appeared in the large mirror opposite the stove. The white face has long eyebrows, and the smile brings some breath of spring. The side of the hair is fluffy, and a few small blue flowers are gathered into a small cluster, sticking behind the styled white ears, as if waving to others, "Look, this position is so decent and wonderful!"

When the fingers are long and soft, inserted into the hairline, the smiling face tilts slightly, starting to ruin the guest's impression of another silence.

"I'm so sorry for making you wait so long!"

"No. I don't at all. The room is very warm and quiet. For me, it is really a kind of enjoyment." ! ”

The smiling face disappeared. The chair by the fire was moved by Qing Qiao, and a small black cat with a white nose and white paws sleeping on the silver-red satin cushion could no longer enjoy the warmth by the fire. Reasonable, difficult to agree and walked away slowly.

The small square clock on the desk is ringing, and the tip of the short needle is on the eight characters. Eight o'clock in the evening.

The guests continued to look around and saw again the group of small flower horses used for decoration on the curtains, galloping in various postures.

"It's so warm in your room, it's like a small greenhouse."

"Do you feel hot? You're wearing too thick clothes. I'll open the window for a while."

>

The guest's original intention was to praise the warmth and comfort in the room, and he didn't think it was too hot. At this time of year, he opened the window and was embarrassed to say anything.

Light snow is falling outside the window. After the window was opened, a cold air and rustling sound poured in from the window. The window was closed again.

"I feel warmer too. Let's change clothes."

The host left the room for a while.

Look again at the flowered horse on the curtain. It's as if these things are running, because they are alone again. Plum blossoms are very fragrant.

The owner changed into a green t-shirt and looked a little thinner.

"Aren't you afraid of the cold if you wear too thin clothes? It's troublesome to get cold.

Medicine is always bitter, even if you add some sugar, it will be unnaturally sweet. "

"It's not cold! This coat is thick enough. It was sewn seven years ago. In autumn, I dug it out of the bottom of the box. I thought I couldn't wear it and wanted to give it to someone. Think about it, who should I give it to? After trying it on myself, I finally gave it to myself. He turned his side to the stove for warmth, and stretched out his small hands in a gesture toward the fire. His demeanor was extremely graceful. Before he had time to praise, his hands had retracted and turned over the corners of his clothes, "I sewed this jacket myself!" I like this kind of soft sliver, heavy and weighty. ”

“Yes, this is particularly suitable for you.” The weight of the material contrasts perfectly with the liveliness and lightness of the body. ”

What he wanted to say was completely dissolved in a smile.

The master understood and only smiled in return.

When the corners of the clothes were turned up, the delicate The legs, wrapped in thin mouse-gray stockings, are like a beautiful little poplar tree, like a pair of bare clubs - no, just like a pair of ideal legs. This is a road, which leads people to imagine. Approaching heaven.

The scene in heaven is simple and bizarre, with a patch of green grass and silence.

He said nothing, so he caressed the place with his eyes. Slightly convex ankle bones, small shins, semi-circular knees...

Everything grows just right, looking extremely comfortable and slightly chaotic

As if he already felt the slight blasphemy of this gaze and reverie, he put down his clothes and wrapped them tightly around his knees, Qiao let out a sigh of relief, "Can you look at my socks?" The color is not great, but the material is good. "The thin hand touched the sock under the clothes, and seemed to continue to say, "The material is good, and it will look much better when wrapped around the feet, right? "

"When the weather gets hot, it will be much easier for you. ” It means “it looks better if you don’t wear socks on a hot day.” ”

The corners of his clothes were raised a little more, “It’s so hot, it’s really easy.” "The meaning is to answer, "Everyone says my feet are beautiful, what's so beautiful about them? ”

“It’s hot and the ladies’ shoes are simple. "(The heels and toes are beautiful.)

"It costs money to change the look every year! "(Are you happy?)

"Any country that spends money on all kinds of stupid things in a year will always spend thousands of dollars. It’s a lot of trouble for a young girl to change her leather shoes into two styles a year! "

(As long as it looks good, why worry about spending money? A technician in a leather shoe factory has no less contribution to human happiness than a technician in an EE factory!")

"This question It’s too deep for me to talk about. I’m like a wild child. When I get to the beach, I just want to kick the sand and play.” (I’m not afraid of people looking at me or kissing me, but it depends on the place.)

"This year's new yukata is definitely different from last year." (You look better naked than other women.)

This kind of silent speech seems to be able to understand what is said and what is said. If you can understand it, the meaning is correct.

At this time, the master smiled and became silent. The shyness of an intelligent woman is, as a rule, a mixture of chastity and lust. Smile and silence contain two components: reward and avoidance.

The master gently raised his toes, (I know how many stupid thoughts you have!

But they are not so stupid that they are not very annoying.)

The feet moved slightly inward, as if they were escaping after being kissed. (Enough, why are you always so stupid.)

"You can't imagine how beautiful you are when you walk. No matter where you are, it means happiness and health." But what the customer said was "Do you like climbing mountains or walking on the beach?"

"Of course I like the sea. It can liberate me and satisfy you." All the host said was "the seaside is much more fun.

After the tide recedes, the sand is wet and cold. It’s very interesting to walk barefoot. "

"I like to find those beautiful clam shells in the sand. They are so beautiful. A strange thing." (Because beauty makes people worship and bow their heads. Finding beauty close to beauty not only makes people happy, but also makes people serious, because it is like facing God!)

"For you "How many weird things are there in this world!" (You tell jokes, you bow your head in admiration, it's just a thought. You don't really bow your head for me.

You are a weird thing. You think about many impolite things, but you never do a single impolite thing. You are very good at protecting yourself. )

"Yes, what I saw was ignored by others, and what I knew seemed to be not 'real', mostly different from others. This can be said to be a kind of 'tragedy'. "

(For example, do you need me to receive you so politely? As far as I know, you reward me for doing something else.)

" How many poems have you written recently?" (The tone is slightly sarcastic. You write poems all day long, and your passion disappears in the words, so you live like a serious gentleman.)

"I I am writing a novel. The emotions are absurd and exaggerated, and the words are colorful but not solemn. It is a miracle to write a deer hunting alone in the heavy snow, just like a fairy tale. , because only children believe that this is a real thing, and will transcend terms such as reality and fiction, appreciate everything mentioned in the story, and share the joys and sorrows of the characters in that story.” (You see. It will understand. Your life does not lack the absurd and beautiful hobbies of fairy tales, and you may wish to take a look, but you must be careful! ")

The master seems to be completely different. He understood what the guest meant, so he said with a smile, "Your story is finished, isn't it?" Let me see. Let me test my childlike innocence from your story. I still don’t know if I still have a childlike innocence! ”

The guest said: “Yes, I also want to use your attitude and feelings towards this work to test my understanding of human nature.” Usually I always doubt this ability, but many people praise me for this, and I still lack confidence. "

The host lowered his head (as low as a white lily flower) to read the "absurd" story. Before starting to read, he seemed to be worried about the guest's dullness, so he raised his head again soon. I started to glance at the guest. I saw spring wind and summer clouds in my eyes, which felt good and beautiful. Then the guest said, "Don't look at me, just read that story." Don't be angry for no reason. "

"When I read the story you wrote, I have to read it slowly. "

"Yes, this is a story. You have to read it slowly to understand it. "

"You mean, because the story is too deep - or because I am too stupid? ”

“No. What I mean is that the writing is too obscure and does not conform well with general habits.

You know, any kind of thought and behavior that is not consistent with habits is sometimes regarded as very dangerous and will cause trouble! "

"Okay, let me give it a try and see if I can find anything out of this work. ”

So the host continued to read the story quietly. The guests also continued to read quietly - look at the flowered horse on the curtain.

The horse seemed to be galloping across the vast expanse of land. Disappeared in the wilderness.

The guest felt that he needed such a conversation to fill the void in time.

Such a beautiful person, as usual. I never imagined how much sadness it would cause people and how much happiness it would give people!

...Are you just kidding me? Why are you looking at my feet so blankly? What do you mean? You are honest on the outside but wanton in your heart. I know that you once kissed my whole body with your eyes, but what you said was, "The horse painting is very interesting, as if it wants to run around." "It's your heart that ran away! Now I'm reviewing this kind of journey again. When I talk about this, I'm a little ashamed for you, but I'm not afraid of anything. I knew you wouldn't do anything really scary."

All you can do is this kind of wandering, as if the first traveler entered the temple of another race and religion, sightseeing aimlessly, and therefore came there with a little fear and admiration. Because you also have a strong sense of sin and impurity in your heart.

...Yes, you are right in your guess. I want to kiss your toes and soles, your knees and legs, and you. That shy place. I want to stop here or there. You should understand my expectations, how to be honest, how not to be selfish.

I understand everything, I just don’t understand your why. Just think that, don't do that.

There are only two people in the room. It is quiet outside the courtyard, except for the sound of light snow falling outside the window.

Occasionally, snow falls from the pine trees, and the sound is very soft. The guests seemed to hear each other's words, but in fact all they heard was their own heartbeats.

The fire is getting brighter.

While reading the story, the host touched his toes slightly on the floor, as if to instruct the guests, "Please start from here. I am not afraid of you. No matter how crazy you are, I am not afraid of you.

I I know what you are going to do, how many stupid things you have to do, and you have to arrange it in a hurry. "

The master's hair is soft and black, his neck is as white as carved jade, his eyebrows are charming and charming, and his cheeks have a tinge. Small round dimples, slightly protruding breasts, and the clothes may be a little thicker.

His eyes kissed the hair, shining like paint and soft as silk. Kissing the white forehead, her beautiful eyes were slightly closed. Kissing the cheek, one is intoxicated by an unknown fragrance. Kissing the neck, it seemed to absorb a small red mark. Kissing the chest, the clothes on the left and right are indeed a little thicker. So he said: "EE, you are so close to the stove, isn't it hot?"

"I'm not afraid of heat, I'm afraid of pity!" He said without raising his head and started laughing.

"I am a cat, a pretty Siamese cat who doesn't like to move. When I get to the stove, I don't want to move around. I often sit here all day long, thinking about nothing and not thinking about anything. Do it."

He chuckled as he spoke.

"Where did you read the article?"

"I saw the deer standing on the lonely high rock that the wind and snow could not reach, looking at the other side with bare eyes, He thought he was very safe, but he didn't expect that the hunter had already slowly walked towards it. The hunter thought that he could catch the deer's thin hind foot with one hand, and he closed one eye to admire the deer's foot. The hair on it looks very calm. Your description is ridiculous and unreal. "

"Please read it and then comment."

< p> As he continued to watch, his smile gradually faded. He knew she had seen another chapter.

When describing the other part of the doe's body, the gentle animal is closer to a human being.

The tenderness flowing from the eyes of the doe because of her new love is even more vivid and humane.

She put the pages of articles on her knees and breathed a sigh of relief. It's as if a sock on the feet has been removed by the guest with words, and the feet are as white as frost. I seem to hear the guest whispering, "You don't think it's blasphemous. I like to see it. If you don't get angry, I will kiss it with my lips. I will also walk along the poplar road and rest where I should be." Rest. I want to go to a sheltered place, a corner, a small well and a spring, a place with lush grass, suitable for white sheep to graze. In short, I will do everything as the hunter did, even though it is a bit stupid and a bit crazy, I still do it. Go ahead."

She felt that her position was not appropriate, so she quickly put her feet together and pulled down her clothes. I didn't dare to read that story anymore, so I pretended to be afraid of the cold and stretched my hand towards the fire. But unconsciously, he opened the stove door, threw in three coals, and stirred the burning coals in the stove with the white copper tongs. "Fire should burn fully!

I just like heat."

"Have you finished reading?"

Shaked his head. The heads were lowered immediately, and they both felt a little unfamiliar and new emotions began to mix into their lives, making people a little scared.

When he shook his head the second time, his intention was completely different from the first time. He no longer confuses "deny" with "admit", but expresses fear that there is someone outside the window. In fact, there was nothing outside the window but light snow falling.

The guest approached the window, opened a small corner of the curtain, brushed away the fog on the window, and looked out, only to see a bright white, pure and pure. When the curtains were lowered, "a piece of white covered everything and disappeared. Symbolizing... God!"

There was also a piece of white beside the fire in the room, which was simple and plain, symbolizing morality. The ultimate.

"Tell your story. Let's talk about how you really caught that deer."

"Okay, let's warm ourselves over the fire and tell that story... I was nearby When I got close to it, God knows what was going on in my heart. I touched the smooth fur on its feet with my fingers. I thought, had I caught a living deer with my hands, or had I caught it with the most delicate nerves in my life. I want to know, but I’m not allowed to know. I think of ancient people describing women’s hands as beautiful as water chestnuts, spring onions, and jade bamboo shoots.

Those who have never seen the maternal tenderness expressed in the deer's wet eyes must be surprised why I kissed the eyes of that creature for so long, and even more ridiculous. Naturally, I used my mouth to gently touch the limbs of that beautiful creature, and Kiss along the back to the edge of its thin and round tail. I found some subtle whirlpools in that place, like the nest of kisses that the poet said. Its cheeks and cheeks are covered with fine vellus hairs. Its neck is so stylish and its waist is so small, which I have never dreamed of before. In particular, I never dreamed that the pair of breasts used to feed the fawn were so soft and beautiful. The deer had no intention of escaping next to me. It was not startled or afraid. He seems to be completely aware of my good intentions towards it, without having to say a word. On the contrary, I was a little panicked and a little unsure of what to do. I looked into his eyes: What should we do?

I want to get the answer from its gentle eyes, as if I heard it say: "It's all up to you." "No, no, not at all.

It must want to escape, Walk far away, because freedom is the freedom it deserves. "

"Yes, he wanted to escape, but he didn't walk away because as soon as he left the cave, it was all snow. , the weather is really cold.

And... escape has a lot to do with the feeling of danger. What danger is there at the moment? ..."

"How do you know it doesn't want to escape? The deer is smart, it must go."

"Yes, it thought that way because it thought it was smart and like a deer. A smart deer should have a plan. But if I acted like it, I would be a fool. I felt that it didn't understand what I said, so I used my hands and lips to explain it, soothe it, and calm it down. I did everything I could. When I arrived, I touched its heart and knew that we were familiar with each other. This was naturally a miracle, because I began to hear its gentle sigh - a deer. , sighing in order to understand love, don’t you believe it?”

“It won’t happen!”

“Yes, if you talk like that, it will never happen. Because it's a deer!

As for a person - well, God, I've said too much! There was silence for a while.

"Isn't it hot? I know you have too many clothes on." When the guest asked, he immediately did something. I also remembered something, and everything was close to abstract.

Either the poet said it or the madman said it.

"Poetry and fire both make life burn. After burning, there will be only a shadow of blue flame and a pile of ashes."

Guests will arrive twenty minutes later He asked in a low voice, "Do you feel cold? Put on your..." and put the thin sage gray shawl on your shoulders from a pile of silk items, "The pattern on the curtain is weird, I always feel it is moving. "In fact, he felt that the flower horse on the curtain was completely silent.

The master stirred the fire and said softly, "I think of that deer. Why didn't it run away just now? What a fate." What he said was a bit close to ridicule, because the matter was in the past.

Silence continues to occupy this room with orange lights and a roaring fire.

The next day, the master sat alone by the fire and read a letter.

EE: I seem to be still dreaming, both physically and mentally. I still kiss your eyes and your heart. In that dream, you were everything, but I had you. What was revealed in front of me was not a simple body, but a piece of brilliance, a handful of flowers, and a cloud. All words have lost their function here, because poetry can only be used as a decoration for the youth of secondary life. White itself is the highest morality. You have transcended this moral term.

King Solomon said: "My sister, my dove, your navel is as round as a cup, and you will never lack for mixed wine."

The first time I touched my lips, I didn't Worry about getting drunk.

When the fruits in the vineyard are ripe, they are full and strong, symbolizing life waiting to be given and expanded. It will slowly wither if not picked.

I like exquisite porcelain, which is warm and crystal clear. What I saw yesterday is better than the thousands of famous porcelains I have seen in twenty years.

I like to look at that Yuan Dynasty scene. There are beautiful grasses growing among the flat hills in Xiaofu, forming a triangle. They are neat and soft, lingering and winding, like clouds and silk. It is the only scenery I have seen in my life. Beautiful place. I would like to live in seclusion in this place for the rest of my life.

I seem to have seen a sculpture. The material is neither copper nor jade, but I think it is precious and gorgeous, and it is rare. The sculpture's legs were thin and long, its lower abdomen was slightly convex, and then it converged downwards. An extremely ideal thread spread from the joint between the two strands to the ankles. The style is complete, just like an imitation of ancient Greek fine art. Works of art should have the life and noble emotions of the sculptor. In the imitation before me, I can see the will and solemn emotions of God.

The miraculous appearance of this work of art is unbelievable. A certain part has a slight green stain, a certain part has two small black moles, and a certain part has some wonderful whirlpools. It seems that the ingenuity of God's handiwork can be seen from these places. These whirlpools are looming between the joints of the hands and feet, as well as on the cheeks, neck, shoulders and waist. They are really like what the poet calls "little cups hiding hot kisses". In these places, people not only want to touch them gently with their lips, but also imagine that they can store their entire lives inside.

The white lily has a weak and graceful neck, and your neck and shoulders are very similar to it. The long neck holds the beautiful head and tilts it back slightly. When the light shines on that white forehead, it looks like a white lily flower about to bloom. My fingers were trembling and I didn't dare to climb or break it, because I saw God in this flower. When you smile, you are an open lily, with life flowing actively. You are silent, and you are even more noble in your silence. Your long eyebrows are slightly frowned, and when you are helpless, the brightness added to your light frown is just like a small yellow pistil and a small ink spot on the light blue white lily flower. ...

All this is just an abstraction.

After seeing this record in the third quarter, my eyes were dazzled. The book became a blue flame and disappeared into the void.

I don’t know when I left that “room” and stood under this old-fashioned archway again. Remaining in my life, it seems that it is just a blue flame. Keep it somewhere else, it should be a small pinch of ashes. A withered plum blossom has lost its color and fragrance in the imaginary time. I only remember the first sentence in that book: God is in our lives.

I have returned to my residence.

At 11:30 in the evening, a yellow light from the vegetable oil lamp spread on the black table and scattered in the small room. Try to look around, here and there are just books, written by people two thousand years ago, written by people ten thousand miles away, written by yourself, written by people you don’t know at the same time; a little gray mouse walks next to the stack of books where the light cannot reach it Go. That calmness means that it is also a living thing, but it has nothing to do with the accumulation of these lives. It reminds me of many scholars who have walked by books for ten or twenty years, or sat beside a church reading and giving lectures. I couldn't help but say to myself, "Oh, God, how many more books should I read and write while I'm alive?"

I need a little rest, and I don't know how to get it as soon as I come.

I seem very tired, but I still live in a continuous absurd state.

There is a small flower on the lamp holder, a flower that blooms in the flame. I thought to myself, "When the fire dies, this flower will wither. It is a symbol of life." My heart seemed to be burning, and I didn't know what was going on.

Although the fragrance of plum blossoms has been lost, I still want to search for the realm of this fragrance, hoping to find something, as if since all this exists, I am worthy of the existence of a good girl. So in the shadow of the "past", I found a piece of yellow and a bit of dry and charred something. It represents another form of other people's "life", or it is just another form of my own "dream", it doesn't matter. . I quietly looked from these dry and charred remnants into the depths of the void, and saw the various behaviors of another person in the madness of joy. I also vaguely see how my own shadow is reflected in the joy and madness of others, and in the wanderings of love and hate.

It is as if there is a ray of sunshine printed on the wall. It seems as if a youthful heart is beating. It was as if everything had its place and meaning again.

I speculate that there must be another book, which records a woman's thoughts about her beautiful and delicate body, her black and soft hair, her thin lips with a little red, and her white and plump cheeks in the cool autumn. There is a wisp of fragrance, coupled with the pure and bright hands, feet, neck and shoulders, and the gentle singing flowing from the tearful eyes. When the limbs are melting together, love and resentment are in helpless opposition, and I feel dazzling and surprised. Alas, what a beautiful and magical life, all disappeared in the sunshine and forgotten in time!

Everything is gone, gone. When I try to look for it, what remains is also a bit of dry and burnt black stuff. Is it a flower taken from my hair, or a bit of paper picked up from the roadside? ? Can't tell.

When I tried to investigate the meaning of "life", I saw a bunch of nouns again, lust and love, resentment and hate, taking and giving, God and devil, man and man, coincidence and contradiction.

After half an hour, all nouns have lost their place and meaning.

By about five o'clock before dawn, I had completely dispersed all "past" and "present" experiences and abstractions. I could no longer investigate and analyze the meaning of their existence. I never used my own The way I understand life is condensed into language and image, creating a new model of life and soul. My mind is spinning, and I am getting crazy again for the shape that remains in the impression, the complete shape of both material and spiritual aspects.

At the end, "I" disappeared into the "story". In the manuscript on the desk, five thousand words have been written. I know that if this little thing is sent to another place, others will treat it as a "novel" and deduce the authenticity from the story. For me, it’s just the remnants of life and dreams.

I faced this record, loved that "abstraction", and spent this time staring into the void. An extremely confusing stubbornness, and the prolongation of this stubbornness, is the only thing I realize about "survival". All other "knowledge"

and "facts" are of no help at present. I am completely alive. In an idea, not in the actual world. I seem to be abusing my body and soul with abstraction. Although it is painful, it is also enjoyable at the same time. Time flows from life and passes without leaving anything behind.

When I gently opened the door, it was already bright, and the familiar morning sunlight entered the room and shone diagonally on the old wall. Several Burmese-style gold lacquer boxes in front of the bookshelf reflect a magical brilliance in the shadow of the faint sunlight. Everything seems brand new. But remembering that “there is nothing new under the sun” makes me sad and happy at the same time. I'm waiting for everything that "night" has to offer. The fragrance of plum blossoms, and the strange education given to me in this light fragrance.

It’s actually ten o’clock in the evening again. The moonlight is clear and translucent, and the corridors are filled with moonlight. So open the door and let the moonlight into the room.

It seemed that someone came into the room gently along with the moonlight and stood behind me, "Why are you suffering like this? What on earth is it?"

I forced a smile, my eyes were wet. I did not look back, "I am writing about Qingfeng, the Qingfeng in Liaozhai. I want her to be resurrected in my writing."

From a gentle sigh, I felt that it was over. At twenty-four o'clock, I had not had a glass of water.

Written in July of the 30th year, rewritten in March of the 32nd year

(Original issue of "New Literature", Volume 1, Issue 1, published in Guilin on July 15, 1943 )

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Scanned by Yiming, proofread by Xueer

＊＊＊ Edited by Literary Vision ()