Literary/Heavenly Talent
"Walking" is one of the short stories of the famous writer Maupassant, and recently Duan himself was a little fascinated by his novels.
Every novel I have seen of him is very evocative, like a bottle of wine that has been treasured for many years, which can be carefully tasted.
At first, I was fascinated by the content of his novels, and now the titles of his novels are shocking.
The title of "Walking", I saw that there are those who walk among the flowers, those who walk after meals, and those who walk in books, and today is the first time I have seen a walk on the human mind.
"Walking" Maupassant is written by a bachelor of the Labis company, the bookkeeper Lela Daddy, writing about his poverty, conformism and loneliness, after a walk at night, suddenly ending his life.
It is not so much that he committed suicide after a walk at night, but rather that it is a recounting of the life of Father Lela's mind.
Father Lela entered the Labis company when he was twenty-one years old, and he worked for forty years, from entering the company to leaving the Labis company at the age of sixty-one, that is, the final death, as if it were a matter of a day.
Seeing this story, it is shocking and frightening that there are such people in the world who have lived their lives almost into a few fragments of a day.
I think That Father Lela is so conformist, that there is not a single ripple in his life, and what makes him so determined.
Is it the environment? He lived in an environment so similar to his own, without a hint of vitality.
He lives in the same environment as he works, or even worse than the environment in which he works.
Father Lela's forty years of consistent work have been in:
There was only one shop house that did not need to be lit between eleven o'clock and three o'clock in the afternoon every day, and the smallest one, the hut was basically in the form of dusk, from eight o'clock in the morning to seven o'clock in the evening, and seven hours of 11 hours of work needed to be lit with kerosene lamps.
In that dimly lit hut, he guarded the diligence and self-discipline of a good clerk, writing, remembering.
The house was always cold and damp, and the backyard outside the window was like a pit, emitting a bad smell, which poured into the room from time to time.
Papa Lela was at the company Of Labis, and the only thing that had changed in the forty years was his salary, which had risen from an annual salary of fifteen hundred francs, which had begun at first, to three thousand francs.
Even so, in the state of social life at that time, he could only eat enough for himself, but he could not marry and have children.
He also had a platonic wish, saying:
"If he had an annual salary of five thousand francs, I would spend it comfortably."
Father Lela, in fact, had never spent money comfortably, and he had no other financial resources than salary.
Little had changed in Father Lela's life, except for the death of his father in 1856, the death of his mother three years later, and his 1868 move.
Don't fantasize that he moved because he accidentally got a fortune, the real reason for the move is because the landlord wants to raise the rent, he has no choice but to move to a worse, cheaper house than before.
Someone said:
In these forty years, even if he was later relocated due to rent increases, he still ate breakfast and returned to a Layur bakery that had changed 11 bosses but never changed his signboard, bought a croissant, and ate it on a sunny day or rain.
Father Lela's way of living is as conformist as a clock, and I think that his routine and way of life, if it were placed on a seriously studied scientist, would surely achieve world-renowned achievements.
But he wasn't a scientist, just a little bookkeeper at Rabis.
All the days, weeks, months, seasons, years, years of Father Lela are all the same.
And one day, on the evening of the day that Father Lela left the world, after work, he was shaken by the afterglow of the setting sun for a long time.
So he wanted not to go home first, but to go out for a while before dinner, and this kind of interest he would look like four or five times a year.
It was a dusk in the spring, and the evening was just beginning to get warm, laid-back, and mesmerizing.
Papa Lela walked in his characteristic little steps of the old man, his eyes full of joy, happy for the ubiquity of joy and the warmth of the air.
He went into a tavern for dinner, and on the sidewalk outside the store he was brought a sour lamb's foot, a plate of salad and a few pieces of asparagus, the best meal That Father Lela had ever had in a long time, and even drank a small glass of fine brandy after the meal.
After paying the bill after the meal, he felt very happy, full of vitality, and hummed a little song rarely, the night was very beautiful, and in this heart-warming breath, he walked a little tired, and sat down on a bench.
A woman walked up to him, sat down next to him and talked to him: "Hello, boy. ”
Papa Lela didn't answer.
And the woman said, "Let me hurt you, baby; you see, I'm very cute." ”
He said solemnly, "You have recognized the wrong person, ma'am." ”
She put an arm around him: "Okay, don't pretend to be stupid, listen..."
Papa Lela stood up and walked away, feeling very depressed. But before he could go far, another woman approached him and said:
"Would you like to sit next to me for a while, my pretty boy?"
He said to her, "Why are you doing this?" ”
She stood in front of him, and her voice suddenly became hoarse and fierce: "Mother, I'm not going to have fun for myself anyway." ”
He continued in a gentle voice, "So, what is it that makes you have to do this?" ”
She muttered, "You have to live, what a fool!" She sang a little tune and walked away.
The other women came to him again, greeted him, invited him.
Father Lela was in a terrible pain, which reminded him of how he had known two or three girls when he was younger.
However, because of poverty, his salary was only enough for him to live alone, he could not even afford to raise a chicken, and he never fell in love once, and he did not know what love was.
After that night, the next morning Papa Lela hanged himself from a tree, and no one knows why he was hanged.
Only passers-by know that he was a bookkeeper for the Labis Company.
Lela went from his youth to the end, and apart from leaving a record number for Rabis, he left nothing for himself in the world.
Like an inconspicuous meteor, it streaked gently on a cold and windy night, and no one saw that there was such a star that once crossed the sky.
Life in the world, there is no "easy" word, a trip to the world, you have to do your best to struggle, like Lela such a wave of life, what is the meaning?
I didn't even feel the taste of love, I just walked away silently like that, what is the difference between living like that and not living?
Lela's unfazed way of living is not as good as Lu Xun's Ah Q.
At least Ah Q has sometimes argued with people, fought, fought hard, and had flesh and blood, and had feelings.
Lela's life had not even quarreled, how barren.
His life is like a resume-like life, more like a pool of stagnant water, only a life marked by numbers, like a walk after a meal, a dispensable life.