追憶似水年華

To participate in the "small core", "small group" and "small sect" of the Vildiran family, only one condition is met, but this is an essential condition, that is, to acquiesce in its creed, one of which is to admit that the young pianist who was favored by Mrs. Vildiran "overwhelmed" Prandai. "Overwhelming" Rubinstein (Mrs. Vildiran said, "Wagner's tune can never be played as well as he is!" It should also be admitted that Dr. Godard's medical skills are better than those of Bodan. Whichever "new member" the Vildirans could not persuade him to admit that everyone else's party was as dull as the cloudy day, they would go out in a hurry. In this respect, women are more difficult to tame than men. They are unwilling to abandon their curiosity to engage in social activities and their willingness to go to other salons in person to experience whether it is more interesting than here. The Vildirans feel that this spirit of exploration, this frivolous evil, may spread to this small church. Orthodox doctrines can be deadly, and women * "believers" have to be driven out one by one. (1) Prandale (1839-1934), French pianist; Rubinstein (1829-1894), Russian pianist and composer. (2) Bodan (1825-1901), a famous French doctor. Except for the doctor's young wife, there was almost nothing left of that year's female * "followers" (although Mrs. Vildiran herself was a virtuous person from a very wealthy but modest, orthodox bourgeois family, but she slowly broke all ties with the family) in a semi-upper class society. Mrs. De Cressie, Mrs. Verdiland called her Audrey by her nickname, saying she was a "goddess of love"; another aunt of the pianist, as if she had been a doorman; they knew nothing about the upper classes, had a simple mind, and could easily believe Prince Sagan and Galman. The Duchess could only afford to hire the poor to their table, and it was easy to believe that the porter and the frivolous woman would have scoffed if they had been invited to visit the two ladies. The Vildirans never invite anyone else to dinner. The guests at their table are fixed. There are no schedules for the party. Young pianists only play when they are "energetic". Originally, no one can force anyone to play. Mr. Vildiran often said, "All of you are friends. Friendship is the first!" If the pianist wants to play the part of the Running Horse in Goddess of War or the prelude to Tristan, Mrs. Verdiland will object. It's not that the music doesn't hit her. On the contrary, it's because the effect it produces on her is too strong. Do you want me to have a migraine? You know, every time he plays this, I have a migraine. I know what the consequences will be! Tomorrow when I'm going to get up, come on, good night, nobody's coming!" If he doesn't play the piano, everyone will talk. One of the friends, usually the painter they loved at that time, said, as Mr. Vildiran said, "To utter a bull's words, we all burst into laughter." Mrs. Vildiran, in particular, was accustomed to putting the visualization of those emotions into practice. One day, because she laughed too much, Dr. Godard (who was only a fledgling young man) had to support her dislocated jaw. The Goddess of War and Tristan and Isolde are Wagner's operas. Evening dresses are not allowed, because everyone is a "close companion" and they don't have to wear the same "disgusting guys" that they invite at Grand parties organized as little as possible to please the artist or introduce the musician to others. The rest of the time, we are content to guess crossword puzzles, wear casual clothes to dinner, and never let any outsiders get involved in this "core". With these "companions" occupying an increasingly important place in Mrs. Vildiran's life, everything that prevents her friends from coming to her, something that sometimes prevents them from being idle, such as one's mother, one's business, another's country villa, or any illness, etc. It's all annoying and reprehensible. If Dr. Godard thought it was time to leave the table and go back to the critically ill, Mrs. Verdiland would say to him, "Who knows, if you don't disturb him tonight, it might be much better for him; if you don't go, he can sleep well all night; if you go early tomorrow, his illness may be over." " When December arrives, she frets at the thought that her faithful followers will leave her "at home" on Christmas and New Year's Day. The pianist's aunt wanted him to have dinner at her mother's house that day. "If you don't follow the customs of the countryside and eat that dinner with your mother on New Year's Day, she'll die," Mrs. Vildiran snapped. By the Holy Week before Easter, her uneasiness rose again. Aunt Bei said, "You are a doctor, a scientist and a free thinker. Of course, as usual, you are coming on Good Friday?" In her first year at the core of the organization, she spoke firmly to Dr. Godard as if she would get a positive answer. But when she waited for that reply, she still had some worries, because if he did not come, she would be in danger of being alone. "I'm coming on Good Friday... Come and say goodbye to you, because we're going to Orvine for Easter." "To Orvine? It's good to feed fleas and lice! " After a moment of silence, she added, "If you had told us earlier, we might have arranged to go on this trip with you under more comfortable conditions." Likewise, if any "faithful believer" has a friend, or a "regular visitor" has a suitor, and may drag them away from coming, the Vildirans will say, "Well, bring your friend!" They are not afraid of a woman's lover, as long as she brings him to their home and talks about love in their home, they will not love him because they do not love them. They will test the friend to see if he can confide in Mrs. Vildiran and if it is possible for him to be admitted to this "small sect". Otherwise, they would call aside the believer who introduced him and ask them to fall out with their friends or mistresses. On the contrary, the "newcomer" will become a believer. In this way, when the semi-upper-class man told Mr. Vildiran that she knew a very lovely man, Mr. Swan, and hinted that he wanted to be received by them, Mr. Vildiran immediately conveyed the request to his wife. Mr. Vildiran had always waited for his wife to make up his mind. His special task was to find ways to satisfy all the wishes of her and her followers. "Mrs. De Cressie has something to discuss with you. She wants to introduce one of her friends, Mr. Swan, to you. How do you like it?" "Hey, what can't I say to such a perfect person? Don't be modest. I didn't ask you for advice. I just wanted to say that you are a perfect person." "Now that you say that," Odette answered in a Marivo-style affectation, adding, "You know, I'm not a fishing for compliments." "Well, if your friend is pleasant, bring him along." Admittedly, this "little core" has nothing to do with Swan's frequent social circles, and pure upper-class people will feel like he has a special status in the upper-class society, and can not find ways to climb the Vildiran couple's home. Nevertheless, Swan loved women so much that he knew almost all the women of the aristocratic class. They had nothing to teach him any more. From that day on, he regarded the naturalization certificates granted to him by St. Germain (almost noble certificates) only as negotiable securities that had no value in themselves or as negotiable securities. Letters of credit, however, would enable him to go to any small part of the provinces or to some remote part of Paris to pursue the daughter of a squire or court clerk who looked at him beautifully. The vanity aroused by desire or love in his life has now been shaken off through the habits of daily life, and it is this vanity that guides him to the life of the upper class society, throws his intelligence and wisdom in the dull pleasure, and uses his knowledgeable knowledge of art to guide ladies to buy paintings. Works, decorate their mansions. It was this vanity that prompted him to show off in front of the strangers he loved, what Swan's surname could not express. If the unknown woman is of humble origin, he will show that strength even more. Just as a talented man is not afraid to show himself in front of another talented man, a handsome man is not afraid of a rich man, but of a country bumpkin not appreciating his handsome power. Since the beginning of the world, people have spent their time out of vanity, and three-quarters of the lies lied to people who are inferior to themselves. Swan was plain and untidy in front of a duchess, but she had to put on airs in front of a maid for fear of being looked down upon by her. There are many people who are lazy or resigned to the status quo because of their social status. They don't enjoy the pleasure that real life provides them when they die in the middle of the world outside of the upper class. They go back to the second place, once they have mediocre entertainment and boring things they can tolerate. Take it for granted and call it fun. Swan is not such a person. He did not bother to discover the beauty of a woman who spent time with him, but spent time with a woman who felt beautiful at first glance. And the beauty of these women is often quite tacky, because the beauty of body he instinctively pursues runs counter to the beauty of women sculpted or painted by his favorite masters. The latter's deep personality or gloomy expression makes his senses stagnant, and a healthy, plump and ruddy body is enough to revive his senses. If he encounters a person he should not have met during the journey, and one of the women shows in his eyes a charm he has never seen before, ask him to remain reserved, to eliminate the desire she arouses in him, and to replace him with a letter calling an old mistress to his side. The pleasure he gained was, in his opinion, a cowardly retreat from life, the same foolish abandonment of new happiness as the foolish abandonment of not visiting the area, but shutting himself up in his bedroom and looking at the scenery of Paris. Instead of closing himself up in his social circle, he created it himself, so that where a woman likes him, he can start a new stove and set up a base, just like the tent that an explorer carries with him. As for things that can't be moved or can't be exchanged for new pleasures, no matter how valuable they seem to others, they are abandoned as desolate. More than once, he had been with a duchess for many years, and slowly aroused the desire of the other party to be personally agreeable but suffering from the lack of opportunity to satisfy, thus winning trust in her presence, but he had the TEM to send her a telegram asking her to contact one of her housekeepers immediately. He had originally sent it in the countryside. Now there's the housekeeper's daughter - it's like a starving man swapping a diamond for a piece of bread! After the event, he was also unable to avoid dumb laughter, the original in him, although there are some rare noble elegance, but there is no lack of brutality. Besides, he belongs to such a talented person who spends their time idling, thinking that idleness provides their intelligence with the same noticeable object as art or learning, and that "life" itself contains more interesting and romantic scenes than all fiction, so take this idea. Talk to comfort yourself, even as an excuse to forgive yourself. At least that's what he said, and it's easy to convince his most elegant friends in society, especially Baron Charles. He often told him some interesting stories about sexual encounters to amuse him. He was proud of what happened when he met a woman on the train. Later, he brought her home and found that she was the sister of a monarch. At that time, all the lines of European politics were in the hands of her brother, and he himself was also in charge of European politics. If he knows what to say, because of the extreme complexity of the situation, whether he can become a chef's lover or not will be decided by the Pope's election meeting and so on. Driven by Swan, not only a large group of highly respected empress dowagers, generals and academicians who had been close to him, but also all his friends received letters from him from time to time requesting them to write letters of recommendation or introduction by diplomatic means, while in the endless peach blossom incidents, they used various pretexts to renovate themselves. This skill is always the same as vernacular. Years later, when I became interested in his sexuality because there were many other aspects similar to me, I often heard that when he gave it to my grandfather (who was not my grandfather at that time, because when Swann's love began and stopped looking for flowers and willows for a long time, I had not. When he wrote, my grandfather looked at the handwriting on the envelope and shouted, "Hey! Swan asked me again, but be careful! " Perhaps out of distrust, perhaps out of the subconscious mind that we only give one thing to people who don't need it, my grandparents categorically rejected the easiest request they made for him, such as when he offered to introduce him to their homes every Sunday for dinner. When Swan mentioned it again, they pretended that they hadn't seen the girl for a long time. In fact, they spent the whole week discussing who to invite to accompany her. As a result, they often couldn't find anyone, but they didn't say hello to the one who was most willing to accept the invitation. Sometimes a couple of grandparents'friends complained about how they could not see Swan, and suddenly announced with satisfaction that Swan had recently become so cute that they were always with them. Maybe that's a little more to arouse my grandparents'admiration for them. My grandfather didn't want to spoil their fun, but looked at my grandmother and hummed, "What kind of mystery is this?" I'm really puzzled. Or: an elusive illusion... Or: In such a case, it's better to turn a blind eye. A few months later, if my grandfather asked a new friend of Swan's: "How's Swan?" Do you see him often?" The other person's face will be lengthened: "Hey! Don't mention him any more!" "I thought you had a close past..." Swan has been a regular visitor to my grandmother's cousin's house for months, eating at their house almost every day. Suddenly one day, he did not go and did not even say hello. Everyone thought he was ill. My grandmother's cousin was about to send someone to inquire about him. Suddenly, a letter from him was found in the kitchen. The cook accidentally clipped it in her account book. In the letter he told the cook that he was leaving Paris and could not come again. It turned out that she was his mistress, and when interrupting with their family, he thought it was necessary to inform her alone. If his mistress was a member of the social world, or at least not of a humble origin, in a special situation, and could not be introduced into the hall of elegance, then he would go back to the social world for her, but only on her activities or on the specific track he led her to. Don't count on Swan tonight, "people said." You know, today is the day he took that American lady to the opera. " He opened invitations for her and went to those very limited salons, where he had old friends, weekly dinners and cards; every night, when he combed his red-brown hair and curled it up a little, he picked up a flower and put it in a buttonhole, and then set out to find his mistress. When he goes to a woman's house in his small circle to have dinner together, he regains the glamour of the social life he was tired of; when he thinks of how the fashionable young people he's about to see admire and friendship him in front of the women he loves; when he sees the glamour of the social life he's tired of. Rong, once combined with a new love, was illuminated and warmed by a flickering flame, which became beautiful and valuable in his eyes. Every time Swan sees a face or a body that feels charming at a glance, his dream comes true, either completely or partially. But one day, when Swan was introduced to Odette De by a former friend in the theatre. When Cressie was here, things were different. The friend once said to him that the woman was really fascinating and he might be able to make something out of her, but things were much harder than they seemed, so it was a great help to introduce her to him. In Swan's opinion, of course, she is not ugly, but it is a kind of beauty that he is not interested in, which arouses no emotion or desire of him, and even some physiological repugnance of him; he thinks that she is such a kind of woman that everyone can cite several samples, and everyone can cite different samples, they are all our senses. The type of villain required. To catch his fancy, her outline is too sharp and prominent, her skin is too slender, her cheekbones are too tall, and her face is too thin and long. Her eyes were beautiful, but they were so big that they drooped under her weight, pressing the rest of her face, that she always looked uncomfortable or in a bad mood. Shortly after that acquaintance at the theatre, she wrote him a letter asking him to allow her to visit his collection, which she was very interested in. She said that she was "ignorant, but quite fond of beautiful things." She imagined that he would be at home "a cup of tea, a room full of books, which would be very comfortable." And when she visited the house, she said that His understanding of him will be further, but she is not hiding her surprise, that he lives in that area is somewhat shabby, and "he is so smart, this area really does not match him." He later let her go. When she broke up, she said that she was very happy to come and visit. Unfortunately, she stayed so short. He said that he left a different impression on her than anyone else she knew, as if they could establish a little romance between them. Swan heard a smile here. He is close to the age of seeing through everything, and knows to love for the joy of love, and does not demand the love of the other side too much; but although this impression of mind is no longer the inevitable goal of love as it was when young, it is still so closely related to some concepts that it may be achieved before love has not germinated. For the root of love. When a man is young, he longs to possess the heart of the woman he loves. Later, as long as you feel that a woman has you in her heart, it is enough to make you love her. In this way, at a certain age, because the main pursuit of love is a subjective pleasure, you will feel that the love of feminine beauty should play the greatest role in love, then even if there is no desire factor at first, love will arise spontaneously, but this is pure physiological love. At this stage of life, a man has been shot by the arrow of love many times, and love no longer runs in front of his surprise and depression, according to the irresistible law of his own which is unknown to us. We also come out and take a hand in distorting it with our memories and ideas. When we see a sign of love, we think of it and make up other signs. Now that we have mastered the song of love and are engraved in our hearts every word, it is not necessary for a woman to sing the first sentence of the song full of admiration for her beauty in order to recall the whole song. And if she starts in the middle of the song --- saying that they are close to each other, that they will lose their meaning when they leave each other's life, and so on --- we will immediately join in the chorus with each other where we should meet. Audrey de Cressie visited Swan again, and visits became more frequent; each time he visited, he recalled his disappointment at the reunion: her face, which he had almost forgotten in the interval between two meetings, was neither so expressive nor so dull in his impression. When she talked to him, he regretted that her beauty was not the kind of beauty he naturally preferred. Moreover, Audrey's face was thinner and more protruding than it really was, because her forehead and upper cheeks were flat, covered with a prevailing bang, with wig curls underneath, and fluffy locks covering her ears; as for her wonderful figure, it was difficult to see its integrity * (that was because of the time). Although she is one of the most well-dressed women in Paris, her bodice is curved, like covering a hypothetical abdomen, the lower edge suddenly shrinks, and underneath it is a double skirt bulging like a balloon, which makes her look as if she was made up of several unrelated pieces. And skirts, lotus leaves and shoulders are all self-contained, depending on the designer's whims or the material's hardness or softness, or on the lines they are attached to ribbon knots, lace pleats, or vertical flanges; or whale beard brackets that are close to the bottom of a bra, or, in any case, with the wearer in the garment. It's out of place. These small decorations on the clothes sometimes cling to her body, sometimes empty, which determines that she sometimes shrugs her shoulders and neck, sometimes seems to be deep in the clothes. But when Odette left, Swan remembered that she had told him how slow she felt every time she waited for him to promise her to come back, she smiled; he remembered the anxious, shy look she had once asked him not to let her wait too long, and She looked at his timid, pleading eyes and made her look very touching under a paper butterfly bouquet on a white straw hat with a black velvet ribbon. She once said, "Can't you come to my house for a cup of tea?" He's doing research on Vermeer on the pretext that he's been out of school for years. I know I can't do anything, "she answered." In front of a university inquirer like you, I'm insignificant. In front of you scholars, I am a frog in the well. But I still want to study very much, want to know these things, want someone to lead me into the door. How interesting it is to read a lot of books and bury oneself in the pile of old papers!" She spoke with the same complacency as a well-dressed woman who said she was not afraid of dirty work and was happy to do dirty work like cooking in person. You may laugh at me; the painter who prevented you from seeing me (she meant Vermeer), whom I have never heard of; is he still alive? Can I see his works in Paris? I'd like to know what you love, and I'd like to guess what's in your hard-working brain and what's in your thinking brain forever. What a wonderful dream it would be if you could take part in your work! He apologized for his fear of making new acquaintances - out of courtesy to women, he said he was afraid of another misfortune. Are you afraid of falling in love? It's interesting that I can't ask for it, and I'm willing to give my life to find a place to place my feelings on, "she said in such a natural and convincing tone that even he was touched. (1) Vermeer (1632-1675): Dutch custom painter, also for portraits and landscapes. "You mostly think that all women are the same as her because of the woman who has suffered. She didn't know you; you're such an extraordinary person. I like your temperament as soon as I see it. I immediately feel that you are different. "Besides you," he said, "I still know women very well. You must have a lot of work to do. You don't have much leisure time. "Me? I never had anything to do! I am always free. If you want to find me, I am always free to accompany you. You can come to see me at any time, day or night. If you give me a letter, I'll always be happy to come. Do you agree? I would be very glad if you could introduce me to Mrs. Vildiran. I go to her house every night. If only you could see you there and think that you were going for me! Of course, when he was alone, he remembered their conversation like this, and when he thought of her like this, he would naturally juxtapose her image with the image of many other women he thought of in his romantic reverie; however, if by accident (or even without the occasion). However, because when a potential mental state suddenly emerges in the brain, it may not have any effect on it. The image of Audrey de Cressie occupies all his fantasies, if all his fantasies are inseparable from his memories of her, then So her physical defects are no longer of any importance *, and it does not matter whether her body fits Swan's taste better than others, because once it becomes the body of the person he loves, it will henceforth be the only body that can bring him joy or pain. My grandfather happened to know the Vildirans, and none of his existing friends knew about it. But he had completely cut off from the man he called "Little Vildeland" and thought that although he had millions of dollars left, he had become an unruly scoundrel. One day, he received a letter from Swan asking if he could introduce him to the Vildirans. Grandfather cried out, "Be careful! Be careful! I'm not surprised at all. Swan must have taken this path. What a wonderful place! First of all, I can't answer his request because I don't know the gentleman anymore. Besides, it must have something to do with women. I don't want to get involved. Well, Swan's going to hang out with the little Vildiran guys. We're going to have a good time." Grandfather gave a negative answer and Audrey had to personally take Swan to the Vildeland family. On the day Swan first went there were Dr. and Mrs. Godard, the young pianist and his aunt, as well as the painter who was then petted, at the dinner table of the Vildirans, and several other faithful followers at the party. Dr. Godard was never sure what tone to use to answer someone else's words, or whether they were joking or serious. He is always ready to put on a smile, make a quick-witted, flash-in-the-pan smile, but also with a certain degree of cunning, in case the other side is saying a joke, but also can avoid too simple mind ridicule. Because he may not be able to guess the intentions of the other party, so he dare not let his smile clearly show on his face, always showing a little hesitation, so that one can see at a glance that he wants to mention and dare not mention "you are serious?" Such a question. He has no more certainty about what to say and behave in the street, or even in his daily life, than in salons; he always gives a sly smile to pedestrians, horses and cars, what happened, and this smile talks about him to avoid being ridiculed for his inappropriate behavior, because if his attitude is not appropriate, this smile It can be said that he knew it well, and the reason why he took this attitude was just a joke. The doctor spared no effort to increase his knowledge and narrow down the scope of what he did not know when he thought he could understand everything that asked the question. Therefore, he followed his visionary mother's instructions when he left the provinces. Whenever he came across an idiom or proper noun that he did not know, he always looked for information and made it clear. When it comes to idioms, he always goes to great lengths to examine them, because sometimes he thinks that an idiom has more definite meanings. He always wants to find out the exact meanings of the idioms he hears most often, such as Labeautre dudiable, dusangbleu, uneviedeba Dton dechaise. Life, lequarxd'heurede Rabelais, eDleprince desl gances, Donner carteblanche, eDtrer eduit quia and so on. It's also important to know what conditions he can use them. If no idiom is available, he will use some puns or homophonic words he has learned. When he heard someone mention a new name in front of him, he was content to repeat it in an interrogative and colorful tone, thinking that this would set the other person up for an explanation. He thinks he can analyze and criticize everything. In fact, he lacks the critical spirit at all. A well-educated man who is benefiting others speaks as if he owes them something (and certainly does not want him to believe it). Such a thought is in vain for Godard, who understands everything he hears literally. No matter how blindly Mrs. Verdiland preferred him, although she still thought he was clever, she once made a joke when she invited him into the box to watch Sarah Bernard's performance. She said politely, "Doctor, it's very kind of you to come here, especially I'm sure you'll often listen to Sarah Bernard's plays; but our box may be a little too close to the stage," while Dr. Godard entered the box with a smile on his lips (ready to tell him the play according to the authority or not). Value or hold or converge). Answer: "This box is too close to the stage, and now people are a little tired of Sarah Bernard. But since you have expressed your wish to come, for me, your wish is an order. I'm so glad to have done so much for you. How can I touch your mind when you are so kind? At this time, Mrs. Vildiran was finally annoyed. The doctor went on to say, "Sarah Bernard is really a golden voice, isn't she?" Many people wrote articles saying that she worked very hard in acting. It was a splendid performance. That's a good thing to say, isn't it? He thought Mrs. Vildiran was going to give him a few compliments, but he hit the nail on the head. (1) Sarah Bernard (1844-1923): An outstanding actress with a high reputation in France. "I see," Mrs. Verdiland later said to her husband, "we shouldn't be so modest as to say the value of what we give to the doctor is so low. He is a scientist, not worldly. He doesn't know what to say. He really thinks so. "I've never dared to tell you," Mr. Vildiran answered. "I've seen it already." On New Year's Day, instead of giving Dr. Godard a ruby worth 3,000 francs, Mr. Vildiran bought a fake gem worth 300 francs, which he said was priceless. When Mrs. Verdiland announced that Mr. Swan was coming in the evening, the doctor was shocked and shouted, "Swan?" The voice was almost rude, because the old man always thought he knew what was going on and was more surprised by the news than anyone else. Seeing nobody to answer, he was impatient and shouted, "Swan? Who is Swan? When Mrs. Verdiland said, "Isn't that the friend Audrey mentioned?" Then he calmed down and said, "Oh! OK, OK!" As for the painter, he was glad to see Swan lead into Mrs. Verdiland's house because he suspected that he had fallen in love with Odette and that he was happy to do good. There's nothing more interesting than matchmaking. "He bit Dr. Godard's ears." I've made more of it, even between women and women. " When Odette told the Vildirans that Swan was "handsome", they were worried that he was a "hater". Who knows that he impresses them so well? They don't know, because he often goes out of the upper class. Comparing with those who have never been in or out of the social world even though they are smart, he has an advantage that he does not distort his image as insignificant because he wants to go in or because he has no basis for disgust. People who have been in and out of the social circles have got rid of all the elements of pretension and elegance in their manners, and of the worries that seem too cordial. They have shown their gracefulness in every move of their hands and feet, as if their limbs were flexible and their postures were just what they wanted, while the rest of their bodies will not make any inappropriate gestures. Clumsy movements. When social figures gracefully extend their hands to the young people they don't know, or when an ambassador introducing them does not bow down, it's a basic gymnastic movement, which penetrates into Swan's whole social life unconsciously, so when he is confronted with the object dimension. The Erdilans and their friends, who are inferior to him, instinctively show a kind of courtesy and initiative to approach them, which in their view is never the case for a "hater". He expressed a moment's indifference to Dr. Godard: before they had talked, the doctor squinted at him and gave him an enigmatic smile. Swan thought that he had mostly seen him in one of the fireworks fields, but he seldom involved himself. There is no place like that that that has ever been addicted to flowers and flowers. If Swan thinks of this association as a bit indecent, especially in front of Audrey, she may have a bad impression of him, so she quickly restrained herself. But when he learned that the woman beside him was Mrs. Godard, he thought that her husband was so young. Not to hint at such amusement in front of his wife, nor to explain the doctor's cunning manner as he had just done. The artist immediately invited Swan and Odette to visit his studio. Swan thought he was cute. Maybe you've received more hospitality than I did, "Mrs. Vildiran said in a pretentious angry tone." He'll show you Godard's portrait (which she ordered from the painter). " She also reminded the painter: "Master Bishi ('Master'is her nickname for the painter), you can remember that the eyes should be painted beautifully, and the corners of the eyes should be delicately drawn. You don't know, the main thing I want is his smile. I ask you to draw a portrait of his smile." She thought that her last remark was very clever and repeated aloud so that many guests could hear it. She even found an excuse to let several guests come closer to her. Swan wanted to meet all the people, including an old friend of the Villandilans, Saniette, who had extensive literary knowledge, great money and a distinguished family. These conditions should have earned him respect, but they were lost because of his shyness, simplicity and kindness. He speaks vaguely, but this kind of vagueness is not obnoxious, because it does not reflect the language defects, but reflects his heart, indicating that he still maintains the innocence of childhood. Some consonants are not pronounced well, which means that some harsh words can not be spoken out. When Swan asked Mrs. Vildiran to introduce him to Mr. Saniette, she asked her to reverse their status. Mrs. Vildiran said, "Mr. Swan, allow me to introduce our friend Saniette to you." Special emphasis was placed on "our friend Saniette" and "you". Swan aroused a warm current in Saniette's heart, but the Vildirans never disclosed it to Swan because they somewhat hated Saniette and were reluctant to introduce him to friends. On the contrary, Swan was very touched when he earnestly asked them to introduce him to the pianist's aunt. The aunt always wears black clothes, because she thinks that women wear black clothes better and more elegant; her face is very ruddy, just like having eaten a meal. She bowed respectfully to Swan, and immediately rose solemnly. She was not well educated and afraid of making mistakes in language, so her pronunciation was deliberately vague. She thought that in case she lost her mouth, she could also be confused by vague pronunciation, so that she could not be recognized accurately. As a result, what she said was just a hard-to-hear husky voice, and few words that she was sure of could hardly come out. Swan thought he could make a slight irony of her when he was talking to Mr. Vildiran, only to arouse the other party's displeasure. "She's a wonderful person!" He answered, "Yes, she's not amazing, I agree; but I can assure you that when you talk to her, she's very agreeable." "I have no doubt about that," Swan said, hastening to concede. "What I meant just now was that I didn't think she was"superior"(he emphasized these four words in particular), not that I didn't appreciate her." "You're surprised," said Mr. Vildiran. "She's a good writer. You've never heard her nephew play? That's wonderful, Doctor. Are you right? Mr. Swan, would you like me to ask him to play something? "That's a great honor..." Swan was about to go on talking when the doctor made a face and interrupted him. The daring doctor remembers that it is outdated to use emphatic tone and solemn form in ordinary conversation, so when someone uses a solemn word (such as "honor" just now), he feels that the speaker has a pedagogical air. And if the word happens to be among what he calls platitudes, no matter how often it is used, the doctor thinks that the sentence must be funny and funny. He quickly picks it up and uses a phrase he thinks the other person wants to say, which he never even thought of. "It's a great honor for France!" He raised his arms and shouted cunningly. Mr. Vildiran couldn't help laughing. What are the gentlemen laughing at? It looks like you're all optimists in that corner,'cried Mrs. Vildiran. She added, like a coquettish child, "Do you think I'm happy to be punished for staying here alone?" Mrs. Vildiran sat on a waxed Swedish pine chair, which was given to her by a Swedish violinist. Although it looked like a bench and did not match the antique furniture around her, she kept it; gifts from time to time from her faithful followers were placed outside. To make the giver happy when he recognizes it. She had also advised them to send only flowers and candy, which could not be preserved for a long time; but it was useless to say that, as a result, her house was slowly filled with foot stoves, chair cushions, wall clocks, screens, barometers and porcelain vases, which were repetitive, jumbled and disorderly. She sat in her lofty seat and enjoyed the conversation of her followers. She was full of joy at their jokes. But since that time when she dislocated her jaw, she never dared to laugh seriously again. Instead, she used a gesture to show that she laughed so much that tears flowed out. That's not the case. Hard work and no danger. If a regular speaker makes a witty remark about a "hater" or someone who was a regular later turned into a "hater", Mrs. Verdiland will make a scream, close her bird-like eyes, which are already covered with a layer of cataract, and suddenly cover her face with both hands. Nothing was visible, as if there were some indecent scenes in front of her or a fatal blow to dodge; she pretended to be trying to hold back her laughter, as if she were going to laugh, and she would faint. Mr. Vildiran always thought he was as kind as his wife, but he laughed so loudly that he could hardly breathe. Compared with his wife's persistent fake laughter, Mr. Vildiran was far behind his expectations and was ashamed of himself. This was his saddest thing. Mrs. Vildiran was delighted by her followers'delight, intoxicated by the affirmations of friendship, malice and certainty. She was like a bird that had eaten food soaked in hot water, perched on her high chair and choked for the atmosphere of friendship. Mr. Vildiran asked Swan to allow him to light his pipe ("All are friends here, don't be polite") and invite young artists to sit on the piano bench. "No, no, don't bother him. He's not here to suffer," cried Mrs. Verdiland. "I won't promise anyone who's going to torture him." "But why bother him?" Mr. Vildiran said, "Mr. Swan probably hasn't heard the F-up Sonata we found; he can play the piano adaptation for us." "Ah! No, no, don't play my sonata!" Mrs. Verdiland cried, "I don't want to cry with rhinitis and facial neuralgia as I did last time; thank you, I don't want to do it again; you all mean well, but it's not you who should stay in bed for a week!" Such a little play, when the pianist wants to play, always performs, but always as the first performance, the audience is happy to watch, as if it shows how original the hostess is, how sensitive she is to music. People gathered around her hurried to greet people smoking or playing cards in the distance, to lean forward, to signal that something important was about to happen, and to shout, "Listen, listen!" as they did at a critical moment in the debate in Congress. By the next day, they were sorry for those who did not show up and said that the little play the day before was more interesting than usual. OK All right! " Mr. Vildiran said, "He'll just play the walkboard!" "Just play the sideboard! What are you saying? Mrs. Vildiran cried out, "It's this walkboard that has paralyzed me. What a wonderful gentleman you are! Doesn't that mean that only the finale is heard in "Ninth" and only the prelude is heard in "Master"? (1) Ninth refers to Beethoven's Ninth Symphony, and Master refers to Wagner's opera The Master of Singing. Dr. Godard persuaded Mrs. Vildiran to let the pianist play, not that he thought the excitement of the music on her was pretended, because he knew that she had some symptoms of neurasthenia, but that many doctors had such a habit when they took part in a social activity (they thought it was successful). Whether it's more important or not) and when they advise the person who temporarily forgets indigestion or headache to be the key figure in this activity, they immediately alleviate the severity of the disease. "You're not going to get sick today," he said to her, giving her an eye * sign. "Besides, if you get sick, we'll take care of you." "Really?" Mrs. Vildiran answered, as if she had to give in to the hope of such a magnanimity. Perhaps also because, when she said she would fall ill, sometimes she forgot that it was a lie, a kind of morbid psychology. And patients are often unwilling to be cautious in order to reduce the incidence of disease. It is easy to believe that they can do what they like to do with impunity and often get sick because of it. As long as they can put their fate in the hands of a strong person, they do not have to exert themselves, they can recover with a word or a pill. Audrey had come to a blanket-faced sofa beside the piano and sat down. "This is my safe haven," she said to Mrs. Vildiran. Mrs. Villediland saw Swan sitting in a chair and asked him to stand up: "You're not comfortable there. You'd better sit next to Audrey. Odette, could you make room for Mr. Swan? "What a beautiful Bowe blanket," Swan said before he sat down, trying to be friendly. "Ah! I'm glad you enjoyed my sofa, "Mrs. Vildiran answered." If you want to see a sofa as beautiful as this one, I would advise you to put it off as soon as possible. They never made a second sofa of this style. Those little chairs are also treasures. You can go and see it later. Every bronze casting matches the figure on the chair; if you want to see it, you can learn something and enjoy it, and you will feel that there is no waste of time. Look at the edge of this chair, the little grapevine on the red bottom of Bear and Grape. How well it is painted! What do you say? I said they were really good at drawing! Is this grape salivating? My husband insists that I don't like fruit because I don't eat as much as he does. Actually, I'm greedier than all of you, but I don't want to eat fruit in my mouth, I want to enjoy it with my eyes. What are you laughing at? You may ask the doctor, who can tell you that grapes are my laxative. Someone treated the disease with the white grapes of Fengdan Bailu. I treated the disease with this Bowery blanket. Mr. Swan, before you go, you must feel the bronze castings on the back of the chair. Are they thin and shiny? It doesn't matter. You can touch it with your hands. "All right! Mrs. Vildiran wants to touch the bronze castings, "said the painter." We won't be able to listen to music tonight. " "Shut up, you bad boy!" She turned to Swan and said, "We women can't even enjoy the least pleasure. Whose skin and flesh are so thin in the world? I think Mr. Vildiran was very jealous of me for fear of losing me - come on, don't interrupt me, don't you say you've never been jealous..." "I said nothing. Doctor, I ask you to testify. Did I say anything? Swan was still touching the bronze castings out of courtesy and was afraid to let go at once. "Come on, you'll touch it later; now it's time for someone to caress you and make you happy; I think you'll like it; it's this young man who takes on the task." When the pianist finished playing, Swan was more friendly to him than to anyone present. What's the reason? It turned out that the first year he heard a piece of work played on the piano and violin at a party. At first, he only realized the material quality of the two instruments. And when he was in the strings of the violin, which were slender, strong, full and left-right overall situation, he suddenly found that the piano sound was trying to gradually rise, turning into a turbulent flowing water, colorful and integrated, flat and placid as the blue ocean which was pacified by the moonlight, and felt great joy in his heart. At some point, he himself could not clearly identify a contour, nor could he call what the name of the thing he liked, but he was suddenly fascinated. He tried to recall the phrase or chord he had just made (he couldn't say it himself); it opened his heart as the scent of some roses in the damp air at night opened our nostrils. Perhaps because he did not know what music it was, the impression he got was so vague. Perhaps it was the real impression of pure music that was confined to this scope, totally unique and could not be attributed to any other kind of impression. Such an impression, in a flash, can be said to be "immaterial" impression. Of course, the notes we hear at this time, according to their pitch and time value, will cover our eyes with large or small space, depicting intricate Arabic patterns, giving us a sense of vastness or small, stability or capriciousness. However, these feelings have not yet been firmly formed in our hearts, and they have disappeared before they were drowned out by the sensations immediately followed, or even by the simultaneous notes. But this impression will continue to flow uncertainly, fade in or out with its "fade in" to cover up those occasionally emerging, indistinguishable, fleeting, special pleasures that can only be recognized by them in our bodies, indescribable, unforgettable, nameless and indescribable themes - even me. Our memory, like a worker who builds a solid foundation of a building in the turbulent waves, can provide us with copies of those escaping phrases, but can not enable us to compare and distinguish them from the accompanying phrases. In this way, as soon as the sweet impression Swan felt disappeared, his memory immediately provided him with a record, which was neither complete nor lasting; but when the music continued, he was able to cast a glance at the record after all, so when the same impression suddenly reappeared, it gave him a record. It's no longer inaccessible. He can grasp the breadth of the impression, the symmetrical adapted phrases, the notation and the expressive force of the music; the thing before him is no longer a pure musical thing, but helps him remember the patterns, buildings and ideas of the music. At that time, he could clearly recognize the phrase that rose in the sound wave between moments. It immediately aroused him some wonderful pleasure, which he felt was impossible to give him anything but this phrase, so he had a love for it that he had never experienced before. The phrase led him here at a slow pace, there, to a noble, incomprehensible, yet well-defined happiness. Suddenly, just as the phrase led him to a place, and he was about to follow it after a short rest, it changed direction violently, taking him to a new level with faster fragmentary, sad, gentle and endless movements, and then disappeared. He was eagerly looking forward to seeing it again for the third time. And it did reappear, but it did not give him any more clear inspiration, and the pleasure aroused in him was not as profound as before. But when he returned home, he needed it: he seemed to be such a person that a passing woman he saw on the road injected a new image of beauty into his life, which strengthened his feelings, but whether he could meet again the one he had fallen in love with but did not even know his name. Personal, even he is not clear. The love for this phrase seems to have created in Swan the possibility of recovering lost youth in an instant. At the end of a long time, he abandoned the idea of combining life with an ideal and confined it to the pursuit of the satisfaction of everyday pleasures, which he believed, though not formally speaking to himself, would not change until death; and furthermore, since he no longer felt any worshipful thoughts in his mind. Therefore, even if there is such an idea in the world, he no longer believes it, although he can not completely deny it. Therefore, he developed the habit of escaping from trivial and insignificant thoughts, and he no longer pursued the truth of things. Similarly, he no longer asked himself whether he would take part in social life, but he was convinced that if he accepted the invitation, he should be invited to attend, and if he couldn't make the appointment temporarily, he should leave a business card for the host. In the same way, during the conversation, he tried not to express his sincere opinions on anything, but to provide some insights on how much he could explain himself. He himself did not need to pour out the details of what he knew. He knows the cooking methods of dishes and the age of a painter's birth and death, but the title of his works is like the palm of his hand. Sometimes he can't help expressing his opinions on a work or a certain outlook on life, but his words are ironic, as if he didn't fully agree with what he said. Nevertheless, just as some sick people go to a new place and receive a new treatment, a new change occurs spontaneously and inexplicably in their body, as if they feel that their illness has been greatly alleviated, and thus begin to see the possibility of a completely different life in the future, Swan passed this time. The memory of the phrase he had heard, through some Concertos he had invited to play in order to see if he could find it, revealed in himself an invisible reality that he had no longer believed in before; besides, as if music had a healing effect on his dry heart, he also reproduced it. It gives birth to the desire, even the power, to devote one's life to one goal. However, he couldn't find out who was responsible for the work he listened to that night, and he couldn't find it, so he forgot it. He had met a few people who had attended the party with him that week and asked them, but several of them had arrived after the performance, or had retired early before it was finished; several of them were present at the performance, but chatted in another corner, while others had listened. But it's also a deaf ear. As for the host of the party, they only knew that it was a new work, and that the musicians they invited had offered to play themselves, and that the musicians had toured abroad. Swan had some friends in the music world, but he could not hum it to them even though he remembered the special pleasure that the phrase had made him inexpressible, even though he could see the image of the phrase in front of him. Later, he stopped thinking about it. And tonight at Mrs. Vildiran's house, the young pianist had just begun to play for a few minutes, when Swan suddenly watched the light, fragrant phrase he loved float away from the long sound like a curtain of sound hanging over the mystery of its birth after a two-syllable treble. Out, close to him, recognized by him - this is the long-term secret, quiet, outstanding phrase. This phrase is so remarkable, its charm is so unique that no other charm can replace it. For Swan, it's like meeting a woman in a friend's living room who once admired him on the street and thought he would never see again. Finally, the tireless beacon phrase drifted away with its fragrant stream, leaving a trace of Swan's smile on his face. This time he could inquire about the name of the stranger, which turned out to be the flat of Van der Eyre's Piano and Violin Sonata. He remembered it so that he could review it at home anytime, study its music language and master its secrets. So as soon as the pianist finished playing, Swan came up to him and thanked him. Mrs. Verdiland was very happy to see the enthusiasm. "What a charm it is!" She said to Swan, "The young man understands the sonata very well, doesn't he?" You never thought the piano could reach such a high level! To be honest, there's everything there, but there's no piano sound. Every time I listen, I think I'm listening to an orchestra playing. It's even more beautiful and complete than an orchestra." The young pianist bowed himself, smiled, and said with a straight look, as if he were reciting an aphorism: "You're overpraised." Mrs. Vildiran said to her husband, "Come on, give him a glass of orange water. He deserves this reward." Swan told Odette how he fell in love with that phrase. At that moment Mrs. Verdiland said, "Oh, Audrey, what kind of confidences does he seem to be telling you?" Audrey answered, "Yes, it's a heart-to-heart talk." Swan appreciated her forthrightness. He then asked what kind of person Van der Eyre was, what works he had written, when the sonata was written, and what thoughts he had to express when he wrote that phrase, which he particularly wanted to make clear. When Swan said that the sonata was beautiful, Mrs. Vildiran shouted, "You're right. It's beautiful! You shouldn't say that you didn't know the sonata. You have no right to know it." The painter said, "Ah, yes, it's a great work. Of course, it's not a highway product. It's not a'popular work'. It's a work that can make a strong impression on those of us who understand art." All of them boasted that they could appreciate the musician, but they never asked themselves the questions Swan had just asked, so nobody could answer them. Even when Swan gave a comment or two on his favorite phrase, Mrs. Verdiland said, "Hey, are you kidding? I've never noticed; I don't like to be faulty and ask about trivial things; nobody here likes to work hard to get to the top of a bull's horn, and there's nothing wrong with our family." At this time, Dr. Godard gazed at her with his big mouth open and admiring eyes, and listened enthusiastically to her uttering so many idioms at one breath. Both he and his wife had the sophistication of some humble civilians, who avoided expressing their opinions or pretending to appreciate the music they had come home to admit to each other and the paintings of Master Bishi. The vast masses can only appreciate the charm, beauty and image of nature from the stereotype of art which they have slowly accepted, while the original art is abandoning these stereotypes, so as the representatives of the masses in this respect, the Godars can neither Sonate in Vandeyi. Nor can the harmony of music and the beauty of painting be found in the painter's portraits. When a pianist plays, they feel that he is playing a few notes on the piano at will, which is beyond the connection of the forms they are accustomed to, while the painter is just putting some colours on the canvas at will. When they recognized a figure on the canvas, they also felt that it was clumsy and vulgar. That is to say, it lacked the gracefulness shown by the customary painting they used to observe pedestrians on the road, and it was unreal. It seemed that Mr. Bishi did not know how long a person's shoulders were or how women's hair was. The president is lavender. The disciples dispersed and the doctor felt it was a good opportunity. Just as Mrs. Vildiran finished her last sentence on Van der Eyre's sonata, he jumped into the water just like a swimmer who had just learned to swim when not many people looked at him. Suddenly he decided to shout, "Yes, this is a so-called diprimocartell." O (first-class) musicians!" Swan could only find out that the sonata of Van der Eyre was recently published, which evoked strong repercussions in a highly advanced musical school, but the general public did not know it. "I know a man named Vander," Swan said. He thought of my grandmother's sisters as piano teachers. "Maybe it's him?" Cried Mrs. Vildiran. Disillusionment "Ah, no!" Swan smiled and answered, "If you had met him, you would not have asked such a question." "To ask questions is to solve them!" The doctor said. "Maybe it's a relative of him," Swan added. "It's tragic enough to say that a genius can be a cousin of an old fool. Sure enough, I would rather suffer from all kinds of torture, and let this old fool introduce me to the sonata writer. It's a terrible thing to have to suffer to find this old fool first." The last one returns to the next one in the catalogue