Pen names: Xidi, Zheng Yuanxin, Luoxue
Gender: male
Date of birth: 1898- 1958
Ethnic group: Han nationality
China was an outstanding patriot and social activist in modern times, as well as a famous writer, literary critic, literary historian, translator, art historian and well-known collector at home and abroad. His ancestral home is Changle County, Fujian Province, and his ancestral home is Yongjia County, Zhejiang Province (now Wenzhou City). 19 17 entered Beijing Railway Management School. 19 19 participated in the may 4th movement, and initiated the establishment of a literary research society with Shen Yanbing and others. He used to be editor of Shanghai Commercial Press, editor of Novel Monthly, teacher of Shanghai University and editor of Axiom Daily. He lived in England and France from 65438 to 0927. After returning to China, he served as a professor of yenching university and Tsinghua University in Beijing and a professor of Jinan University in Shanghai. 1937 Joined the Cultural Salvation Association, organized a reunion with Hu Yuzhi and others, published the Complete Works of Lu Xun, and edited Democracy Weekly. After 1949, he successively served as Minister of Welfare Department of All-China Federation of Literary and Art Circles, Minister of Research Department of All-China Federation of Literary and Art Circles, Head of Culture and Education of China People's Political Consultative Conference, Director of Cultural Relics Department of the Central Ministry of Culture, Deputy Director of Folk Literature Research Office, Director of Archaeology Institute of China Academy of Sciences, and Deputy Minister of Culture. Member Chinese People's Political Consultative Conference, member of the All-China Federation of Literary and Art Circles, member of the Standing Committee of the All-China Federation of Literary and Art Circles, and director of the Chinese Writers Association. The work was published in 19 19. 1952 Join the Chinese Writers Association. 1958 10 071October 17, he led a cultural delegation from China to visit abroad, and died suddenly in a plane crash the next day.
He is the author of Literature Outline, A Brief History of Russian Literature, Essays on China Literature, History of Popular Literature in China, History of Excavation of Ancient Tombs in Recent Hundred Years, Basic Construction and Protection of Ancient Cultural Relics, Collection of China Ancient Paintings Collected Abroad, Reference Atlas of China History, Atlas of Great Art Tradition, Illustrated History of China Literature, China and other monographs. Prose collections such as rickets, diary of a trip to Europe, miscellaneous notes in the mountains, short swords, enjoyment learning collections, Haiyan, ethnic dialects, notes of seclusion, translated into Sha Ning, blood stains, grey horses, crescent moon collections and poems. Among them, Cat was selected as a junior high school textbook of People's Education Publishing House.
The only audience
In the words of my father and my sister, I am a music idiot. Of course, this is their conclusion after countless tortures. To them, my serenade is like sawing the legs of a lathe. These words make me feel depressed and discouraged. I didn't dare to practice at home until I found a wonderful place. On the hill behind the building, there is a young forest, and the ground is covered with fallen leaves.
The first morning, I crept out of the house, filled with a sense of sacredness, as if I were going to do something very great. The Woods are very quiet. The rustling footsteps sound like a faint poem. I stood under a tree, my heart beating violently.
I had to take a few breaths to calm it down. I solemnly set up the violin, like a grand ceremony, playing the first tune of the factory. But the fact soon depressed me, as if I had brought the saw into the Woods again. I was so sad that I almost cried and couldn't help cursing: "I'm such an idiot!" " You can't play the piano well in your life! "When I felt someone behind me and turned around, I was startled. An extremely thin old woman sat quietly in a wooden chair and looked at me calmly. My face suddenly burned, thinking that such an ugly voice must have destroyed the harmonious beauty of this forest and the loneliness that the old man was enjoying alone. I smiled apologetically at the old man and prepared to slip away.
The old man stopped me and she said, "Am I bothering you? Young man. However, I sit here for a while every morning. " There is a beam of sunshine shining on her silver hair through the leaves, which is especially crystal clear. "I guess you must play very well, but I am deaf. If you don't mind my presence, please continue. " I pointed to the piano and shook my head, which means I can't play well. "Maybe I will feel the music with my heart. Can I be your audience? Just every morning. " I was moved by the poetic language of the old man; I am ashamed and secretly excited. Hey, someone praised me before the game, even though she was a poor deaf person. I pulled, facing my only audience, a deaf old man.
She kept looking at me calmly. When I stop, she always remembers to say, "That's great. My heart has felt it. Thank you, young man. " If she hadn't been deaf, she would have run away with her ears covered. My heart is full of a feeling I have never felt before.
I soon realized that I had changed, and the incredible expressions of my family proved this. From my closed room, I can often hear the basic etudes of Alvin toffler and Schurod. If in the past, my sister would always knock and pretend to be pitiful and say, "Please, give me a break!" " I don't care now. I stood up straight, my arms were sore and my shirt was soaked with sweat. But I can't practice sitting on a wooden chair, and I used to.
I don't know why, what always makes me feel uneasy and even ashamed is that I have to play hard in front of a deaf old woman every morning; My only audience must have been waiting for me in the wooden chair early. Once, she said that my piano music could bring her joy and happiness. To make matters worse, I often forget that she is a poor deaf person!
I kept this secret until one day, my sister, a music major, was shocked by one of my sonatas, Moonlight. From her expression, I know that she must not like sawing her legs now. My sister forced me to ask which famous teacher gave me advice. I told her, "It's an old lady who lives in building 12. She is thin and has white hair, but-she is deaf. " "Deaf? ! "My sister exclaimed, as if I were telling a fable," Are you deaf? " ! How ridiculous! She is the most prestigious professor in the Conservatory of Music. More importantly, she is the chief violinist of the orchestra, and you claim that she is deaf! "
I have always cherished this secret. Cherish the beautiful heart of an old man. Every morning, I always come to the Woods early, face the old man, the deaf musician, my only audience, gently adjust the strings, and then quietly play a beautiful tune. I feel that I have played real music, and those wonderful notes are slowly flowing from the strings, filling the whole forest and the whole heart. We didn't talk about anything, but on this beautiful morning, one person pulled gently and one person listened quietly.
I watched the old man rest peacefully on the wooden chair, smiling, and his fingers quietly synchronized. I go all out to play, which may bring a little happiness and happiness to the elderly. Her kind eyes looked at me calmly, like a deep pool. ...
Later, I was skilled enough to operate the violin, which is a hobby I can never give up. At different times, I always meet some literary parties organized by everyone, and I also have the opportunity to play violin music in front of hundreds of audiences. I can't help thinking of the deaf old man. It was a sunny day.