Unlike traditional novelists, modern Western novelists do not seem to care about the story itself, but how to tell the story. They are no longer satisfied with a single narrative person, but try to change the use of different narrative persons. For example, Duras's famous work "The Lover". The clues of this novel are intertwined with light and dark. The light tells the story of a girl and her lover meeting and falling in love, and the dark is guided by my psychological feelings now or before or after the incident. The former uses the third person "she" as the narrative object, while the latter speaks as "I" the narrator. Although two persons are used, the story can be easily switched between the first person and the third person, so instead of seeing any flaw in the story, it has a power that directly touches people's hearts. We believe that writing narratives (especially narrative narratives) can fully learn from this method of changing narrative person.
There is a famous saying in narratology: "Although there are no fresh stories, there are always fresh lips." Fei Ming, a famous modern writer in my country, once said something similar: the story is not important, what is important is the way to tell the story. It should be said that many people’s aesthetic taste is based on appreciating stories, so no matter how good or exciting the story itself is, it is still within the readers’ expectations. Moreover, the current narrative writing of middle school students often uses a single narrative person, which has already caused readers to suffer from aesthetic fatigue. If we take a different approach and put more effort into "narrative person", we may get unexpected results.
1. Medical record scanning
"There is always a kind of memory worth cherishing"
"How I want to stop at yesterday, stop at the simple past, that me A clear face can be seen in the tentacles..." The familiar voice and the familiar melody came to mind again. Yes, my grandma has been away from me for many years.
The memory was peeled off layer by layer, and the shocking reality eroded my heart again.
It was an afternoon. It was rare to have warm sunshine in this winter day. I squinted my eyes and let the dazzling warmth touch me, but they sneaked into the house and climbed onto my grandma’s bed. On the body, like a naughty child. Grandma's eyes seemed to have fragments of sunlight, and she was looking out the window in trance.
"Grandma, let's go outside and play. The sunshine outside is so warm." I dragged my grandma and walked outside.
"Hey, slow down, you little girl." Grandma smiled and walked slowly.
"Wow, the yard is full of sunshine, the yard is so bright today~" I couldn't help shouting. Grandma smiled and said nothing.
"Go get your shuttlecock and play with it. It's been a long time since I've played~" Grandma suddenly said to me. I was lost in thought looking at the yard, and my grandmother’s words pulled me back.
I jumped up and ran into the house so I could rummage through it. "Haha, found it."
Maybe it's because I haven't played for a long time. I'm a little rusty and haven't played a few games. I was sighing, but grandma took the shuttlecock over and started playing by herself. Grandma actually played very well. She kicked it for a while without dropping any one. I was just looking at my grandma, but I didn’t know how many kicks she had kicked. I still remember what my mother told me before, that my grandma was a good shuttlecock player when she was a child. Now it seems that the sword is still young.
I told my grandma these words, and she smiled, as brightly as the sun, but with a bit of pride, grandma, you are still like a child.
It’s been a long time since I saw my grandma’s bright smile. It was like a clear spring, refreshing my heart. At that moment, I really wanted time to stop. Why do beautiful things always disappear so quickly? Grandma’s smile also disappeared. I seemed to see my grandma’s wrinkles getting deeper and her brows getting furrowed. I was not wrong. Grandma, it’s grandma’s painful face, grandma’s heart disease, that damn disease. I anxiously looked through the house, but there was nothing here or there.
"Grandma, where is the medicine? Where is the medicine?" I shouted. But no answer was heard. Grandma was lying on the ground in pain.
I called my mother...
The ambulance came, but grandma left me forever...
Thinking back carefully, Unexpectedly, I found that I didn’t have much time with my grandma. In the past, I would rather watch TV at home than go see my grandma, but now, my grandma has left me forever.
Grandma, is there my call in heaven, is my longing flowing in heaven?
[Comments] This article uses the girl's memory pen to bring us to that On a winter afternoon, a cute little girl was happily kicking the shuttlecock under the watchful eyes of her grandmother. Unexpectedly, her grandmother died of a sudden heart attack. It is obvious that the article adopts first-person narration. Since the narrator is the person involved, everything the narrator sees and hears with his own eyes or hears, or is the narrator’s own personal experience, gives readers a cordial and real feeling. Therefore, the author's deep yearning and remembrance of his grandmother can easily arouse readers' screams. In addition, the dialogue description in the article is excellent. The innocence and cuteness of the little girl and the kindness of the grandmother are all vividly displayed on the page. I should say, this is an excellent article. However, I have to point out that this article still lacks some momentum, especially the collection of the article seems to be too hasty and does not push "my" memory of my grandma to the ***.
2. Display of upgrading essays
"There is always a kind of memory worth cherishing"
"How I wish to stop at yesterday, stop at the simple past, that me A clear face can be seen in the tentacles..." The familiar voice and the familiar melody came to mind again. Yes, my grandma has been away from me for many years.
The memory was peeled off layer by layer, and the horrifying reality eroded my heart again.
It was an afternoon. It was rare to have warm sunshine in this winter day. I squinted my eyes and let the dazzling warmth touch me, but they sneaked into the house and climbed onto my grandma’s bed. On the body, like a naughty child. Grandma's eyes seemed to have fragments of sunshine, and she was looking out the window in trance.
"Grandma, let's go outside and play. The sunshine outside is so warm." I dragged my grandma and walked outside.
"Hey, slow down, you little girl." Grandma smiled and walked slowly.
"Wow, the yard is full of sunshine, the yard is so bright today" I couldn't help shouting. Grandma smiled and said nothing.
"Go get your shuttlecock, I haven't played for a long time." I was lost in thought facing the yard, and my grandmother's words pulled me back.
I jumped up and ran into the house so I could rummage through it. "Haha, I found it~~~"
Maybe it's because I haven't played for a long time, but the feet and shuttlecock have long lost the tacit understanding they used to have. The shuttlecock flew away again, and I pouted my red little mouth, but grandma took the shuttlecock and started playing by herself. The shuttlecock seemed to be stuck to grandma's feet, and she kicked it for a while without falling off. I was so lost in thought that I forgot to count. I still remember what my mother told me before, that my grandma was a good shuttlecock player when she was a child. Now it seems that the sword is still young.
I told my grandma these words, and she smiled as brightly as the sun. Grandma, wow, you are still like a child.
Many years later, I still remember my grandma’s smile that day, like a clear spring flowing in my memory. Why do beautiful things always fleeting? How I wish time could freeze at that moment. But grandma’s waist was bent, grandma’s face was twisted, grandma’s brows were furrowed, grandma’s smile disappeared, and grandma fell. ------- I couldn’t bear to remember it anymore, and my tears were blurred again. My eyes, when I grew up, my mother told me that it was a damn heart disease that took my grandma’s life.
Grandma, I will never be able to eat the sweet sugar cookies you made again; I will never be able to hear the long lullabies you sang again; Grandma, how much I want to hear you scold me again. I, the "little brat," really want to sit on your tricycle again and listen to you shouting "Selling piglets" with a smile.
Grandma, is there my calling in heaven? Grandma, are my thoughts flowing in heaven? Grandma, are you okay in heaven?
"Outside - —Grandma!"
[Comments] Under the guidance of the teacher, the author recalled every moment of getting along with her grandmother day and night, and felt that there were many things she wanted to say to her, so at the end of the article there was a flow It is a "whisper" about the author's deep longing for his grandmother. This passage can be said to be a stroke of genius. It uses the second person, as if grandma is right in front of you. Every word of "grandma" and longing make the most secret strings in the reader's heart tremble involuntarily. In the composition review class, the author read this article aloud in front of everyone. When she read the last words, she burst into tears, and many classmates also covered their faces and cried. This cannot but benefit from the changing use of two narrative persons.