Zweig

He was born with a hairy face, with more vegetation than open space, and his thick moustache made it difficult to see his inner world clearly. Beards covered his cheeks, covered his lips, covered his dark face wrinkled like bark, and fluttered in the wind one by one, quite like an elder. A finger-wide eyebrow stands upright like a tangled root. A lock of gray curly hair piled up on his forehead like foam. No matter which angle you look at, you can see the thick hair like a tropical forest. Like Michelangelo's painting of Moses, Tolstoy's unforgettable image comes from his fatherly beard that day.

People are trying to use their imagination to remove the hair that covers his face and trim his crazy beard. Taking the portrait of his shaved beard as a reference, they hope to use magic to create a smooth face. -This is a signpost to the inner world. In this way, we can't help but start to shrink back. Because, undeniably, this man of noble family, with rough appearance, was born with the face of a foreign villager. The soul of genius lives in a low shack, and the workshop of genius soul is not much better than the leather tent built by Kyrgyz. The hut was shoddy, built by a village carpenter, while the small one was built by an ancient Greek craftsman. The beam above the small window-the forehead above the small eyes-looks like a tree that has been chopped at will with a knife. The skin hides evil and practices evil, lacks luster, and is as rough as the outer wall of a hut made of branches. In the middle of the square face, we saw a large lion's nose, with two holes facing the sky, as if it had been smashed by a fist. You can't hide those ugly ears behind your unkempt hair. There are two thick lips in the middle of the sunken cheek. The overall impression is unbalanced, rough, mediocre and even vulgar.

The sad faces of these workers cast a shadow of depression. They are dull and depressed: they can't find any aura of striving for progress on his face, they can't find spiritual brilliance, and they find an extraordinary appearance that rises slowly like a marble dome in Dostoevsky's brow. His face has no luster. Whoever does not admit this is not telling the truth. There is no doubt that this face is plain and full of obstacles that cannot be remedied. It is not a temple to spread wisdom, but a prison to imprison ideas. This face is dark, gloomy, ugly and disgusting. From his youth, Tolstoy was deeply aware that his public image was unpleasant. He said he hated any illusions about his appearance. "Can a person with a wide nose, thick lips and small gray eyes like me still find happiness?" Because of this, he soon let his beard grow all over his face, and hid his lips in the beard like a sable mask until he got old, thus showing some kindness and respect. It was not until the last decade of his life that the thick cloud on his face was removed; It was not until the late autumn of life that the beautiful light thawed this sad place.