Chapter 17 wife living room

Dong dong dong, a pair of unfamiliar hands knocked on the door of the courtyard at No. 3 Beizongbu Hutong. Lin Huiyin, the hostess of the yard, was the first to hear the timidity and embarrassment of the strong joints knocking on the door. There is a small courtyard at the entrance of the courtyard, which is the servant's housing.The courtyard inside has a main hatchback, and the main room on the north is the living room of Lin Huiyin and Liang Sicheng. The wide doors and windows are inlaid with wooden lattices carefully designed by Lin Huiyin, and white window paper is pasted on them. She replaced the lower layer of the windows with glass. You can see the sunlight, and you can see the trees and flowers in the yard. The roof is made of scale-like gray tiles.

She opened the door, and two young faces appeared in front of her.One is Shen Congwen, who is a frequent visitor and is already a well-known young writer in the literary world all over the country; the other is a stranger, he is about 20 years old, his face is slightly flushed, and there is still a bit of childishness, he is wearing a well-washed A clean blue cloth coat, a pair of old leather shoes that have just been oiled.Shen Congwen introduced: "This is Xiao Qian, a third-year student in the Journalism Department of Yenching University." "Ah! You are Xiao Qian, the author of "Silkworm". Come in."

Xiao Qian looked around the yard with his eyes.This is a small courtyard house, neatly tidied up, there is a lilac tree in the courtyard, the leaves have not completely fallen off, as if there is still residual fragrance, hanging on the branches. After entering the room, Lin Huiyin introduced to Xiao Qian Liang Sicheng, who had just rushed back from the Zhengding inspection, and Jin Yuelin, a professor from Peking University who came to visit. Lin Huiyin enthusiastically poured tea for them. Before coming, Xiao Qian read Lin Huiyin's invitation letter to Shen Congwen, and the lines were lively and enthusiastic:

Brother Shen: When I came back from the second day of junior high school, it was a mess, and it was inexplicable.The article is not well written, and when you lose your temper, you still have to retch rhymes!I can't digest the days of November the most. Listening to the wind and knowing that the maple leaves are withering again, I just want to cry.The few lines I cried out yesterday can barely be called poetry, and they will be correct in the future. Mr. Xiao Qian's article is very interesting, I like it.I feel refreshed to see you. Tell me whether it is Friday or not. If it is, you can wait at home for teaching at 5 pm. If it is too late, you can also do it on Saturday morning.

About the status quo of Yungang, I am writing a short story, that day, when I catch up with the situation, I will deliver it. Si Cheng is still eating dust and sand on the edge of the Ping-Han Line, and he can get home on Saturday night. Ask Li'an this question, and the second sister-in-law is in charge. Farewell to Huiyin Xiao Qian also heard from Shen Congwen that Lin Huiyin's lung disease was quite serious, and he thought she would receive guests half-lying on the bed in pajamas. Unexpectedly, Lin Huiyin was wearing a horse riding suit, looking light and unrestrained, and her face was a little sick After the tiredness, but the beauty of youth cannot be concealed.Her eyes are beautiful and her eyebrows are charming.Xiao Qian felt that the extremely intelligent lady he wanted to meet was like a pure poem.

Xiao Qian had read her works published in "New Moon" and "Ta Kung Pao" more than once, and Shen Congwen also highly praised her.After Xiao Qian's first novel "Silkworm" was published in Ta Kung Pao, Shen Congwen told him that a "very clever lady" had taken a fancy to his work and invited Xiao Qian to her house for tea. Shen Congwen also told him that the "wife's living room" of Lin Huiyin's family is quite famous in the cultural circle of Peiping, and most of the people who go there are literary giants and celebrities.When he first came, Xiao Qian was still a little nervous, but Lin Huiyin's enthusiasm made him forget the restraint he had when he came.

"Drink tea, don't be polite, the more casual the better." Lin Huiyin said, "I've read your "Silkworm" several times, and it's not easy to have such a score when I just wrote a novel! Do you like aestheticism works? The language and colors in your novels are full of aestheticism." Lin Huiyin was walking around the room, her face flushed with excitement. "I like this description: when the silkworm is young, you can often see its shyness and shyness. In middle age, it is like a family member. In the prime of life, the thick head, thick body, and the thick veins running in the thick body are always ready to resist. Hold it in your hand, as tough and unconvinced as a carp tailed in a dragon's gate." Lin Huiyin went on to say, "What do you say to old age? The silkworm is described even more brilliantly: its body is as soft as a bubble of water, and its yellow face is as transparent as the old Dan who called my son in "Diao Jingui". So old, so pitiful, so cute!"

Xiao Qian was surprised.Ms. Lin was able to recite long sections of his novels by heart. Lin Huiyin said: "When I was in Xiangshan, I wrote a novel "Embarrassment". Now it seems that it is not as colorful as yours. Reading your novel reminds me that art should not only obtain spirituality from life, but also obtain the content of thoughts and feelings. Depth, gets the turmoil or calm of the soul, and can form itself in the line and color of art, the perfection of art itself is in it, not outside, it is a veil, not a mirror, it has any There are flowers that the forest doesn't know, there are birds that the sky doesn't have, and of course there are silkworms that don't exist on the mulberry tree."

Xiao Qian listened intently, for fear of missing a single word. Jin Yuelin is a frequent visitor to their home and lives behind her home. He is tall and thin, loves to play tennis, reserved and eloquent. He is a professor of philosophy at Tsinghua University. Everyone who knows him calls him "Old Jin".He is a native of Hunan. He was awarded a scholarship to go to the United States when he was studying in Beijing in his early years. He went to the Walton College of Pennsylvania to study in the preparatory class of economics and business. Because he was sensitive to abstract thinking, he later turned to philosophy. After graduation, he went to Britain, France and other countries. Studying abroad, he has spent almost ten years abroad.It is said that he had several love stories with western girls, and one of them even went to Beijing with him, but he never married.

Liang Sicheng and Jin Yuelin were sitting on the sofa smoking their pipes, while Shen Congwen held his chin and nodded appreciatively. "Did I talk too much?" Lin Huiyin stopped resolutely. "Once you start talking, who can get in the way?" Liang Sicheng joked. "Our family is a house where women sing and husbands follow suit. If you can't get in the mouth, please pour tea for the guests!" Lin Huiyin said. Everyone laughed. Lin Huiyin turned to Xiao Qian again: "I think the most successful thing in your novel is to mobilize the artistic sense - the long body becomes more and more transparent, as transparent as a pianist's fingers. A blue vein, fluffy clouds It seems to swim up and down the back. I suspect that it is the inspiration hidden in the soul of poetry that I don't understand. This text is really wonderful. What is the feeling? Feeling is the tentacles of the artist. A writer, in front of life There must be a hundred pairs of compound eyes like an insect, because what you need to discover is the immortal instinct that exists in the depths of the human spirit, discovering the various forms, sounds and colors in which people live. In the process of feeling, even colors A sense of right is more important than a sense of right and wrong."

It was so wonderful, Xiao Qian almost shouted out. For a whole afternoon, they talked like this knowingly.Most of the time, it was Lin Huiyin who spoke happily, and everyone listened respectfully. Time passed quickly on the window lattice.Xiao Qian raised his eyes out of the window, and felt that the lilac tree in the courtyard was covered with flowers again in an instant, and the sharp fragrance permeated the entire sky. Cihui Hall No. 3. This is the residence of Zhu Guangqian and Liang Zongdai behind Jingshan Mountain, and it is also a cultural salon as influential as the "Wife's Living Room".This salon gathers once a month to recite Chinese and foreign poetry and prose, so it is also called "Poetry Reading Club".Lin Huiyin is also the main participant here. Members of this salon include Bing Xin, Ling Shuhua, Zhu Ziqing, Liang Zongdai, Feng Zhi, Zheng Zhenduo, Sun Dayu, Zhou Zuoren, Shen Congwen, Bian Zhilin, He Qifang, Xiao Qian, as well as British poets living in China Ulian Burrow, Aliton and others.This salon is actually a continuation of Wen Yiduo Xidanpicai Hutong Salon in the 1920s. The host of the salon, Zhu Guangqian, whose pen name is Meng Shi, is a liberal arts graduate of the University of Hong Kong. In the mid-1920s, he studied in Britain and France, and traveled to Germany and Italy alone. After returning to China in July 1933, he was hired by Hu Shi as a professor of the Department of Western Languages ​​of Peking University. .Zhu lectured on selected readings of Western masterpieces and the history of literary criticism. At the same time, he also gave lectures on literary psychology and poetic theory at the Chinese Department of Peking University, Tsinghua University, Fu Jen Catholic University, Women's College of Arts and Sciences, and the Central Academy of Arts. The attraction of the "Poetry Reading Club" to the members of the salon lies in its lively form, where everyone can argue about issues as they like. No, Lin Huiyin and Liang Zongdai argued again. The reason was because of a poem by Valéry that Liang Zongdai had just recited and translated by him——"The Song of the Narcissus". Lin Huiyin's language is always so sharp, and he doesn't care about Liang Da's poet's face at all: "Zong Dai, don't be complacent, I really don't want to compliment your poem Lao Wa. Brother, the bleak Bailian, I worry about the beauty Yan, / Soak me naked in your melting clear spring. / And to you, goddess, goddess, goddess of water, / I come to present my unreasonable tears in this hundred silence. The opening sentence of this poem is good, But then the images were all scattered, as if a string of beads had been roughly torn off. I remembered a passage in the preface of the French writer Gautier's "Mademoiselle Maubin"-who has ever seen a banquet where the A sow and 12 piglets all in one dish? Has anyone ever eaten moray eel and lamprey fried human meat chowder? Do you really believe that Briar-Savarin made Aposis' technique Has it become more perfect? ​​Did Fat Witius stuff his famous Minaf shields at the Shivi Foods with pheasants, phoenix brains, flamingo tongues, and bird livers?" Liang Zongdai stood up from the sofa, the veins on his forehead were bulging.The talented Liang Zongdai is now the dean and professor of the French Department of Peking University. During his study in France, the poet Valéry was his teacher. It is also his favorite poem.Liang Zongdai said loudly: "I think Miss Lin misunderstood this poem. As the main representative of late symbolism, Valéry's poems are an equation of human emotions. This "Narciss" is completely The symbol of the whole body, it is the closest to the essence of life, I think you didn’t understand this sentence: This is the body of the moon and the dew in my water, the beautiful shape that obeys my double wish! / My swaying silver How clarified is the posture of the arm! / My slow hand in gold is tired of inviting; Valéry's works ignore the external reality and focus on expressing the inner truth, giving abstract ideas a vivid and colorful material form. I think Miss Lin It's just ignoring that." "It's just that you are wrong." Lin Huiyin also raised his voice, "What we are arguing about is not the artistic characteristics of late symbolism, but this poem, a thousand readers, there can be a thousand Hamlets. I think morality Some maxims, some lessons of truth, must not be introduced into poetry, because they may serve the general purpose of the work in different ways. But the true poet will always try to dilute them and make them subordinate to the poetic purpose. The true element of atmosphere and poetry—beauty." Liang Zongdai's face with high cheekbones was glowing, and he rubbed his big hands constantly: "Miss Lin, you should notice that what the poet emphasizes in his works is sensibility and reason, change and eternity, and flesh and blood." The philosophy that conflicts with the soul, life and death, this is the true meaning of beauty. I think beauty should not be aesthetic, a poet, he feels the thought, just like smelling the fragrance of a rose immediately." Lin Huiyin also stood up: "I want to remind Poet Liang that poetry appeals to the soul, and the soul can be either a prisoner of the body or a prisoner of the soul. Of course a person cannot be biased. A great Frenchman, It was pointed out a hundred years ago that a man's preference is entirely his own business, and that once biased, it is no longer just." Everyone listened with great interest to their argument. Xiao Qian, who participated in this salon activity for the first time, said to Shen Congwen: "They are arguing so loudly, they are blushing and thick necked, why don't you persuade them." Shen Congwen waved his hand: "It's normal to be arguing here, just leave him alone and let them quarrel to their heart's content, the more lively the better." Lin Huiyin sat down and said calmly: "Every poet can be inspired by the sunrise and sunset, which is a kind of trembling of the soul. Poet Liang said that poets should go to nature, to the arms of lovers, to you Go in your own soul, if you feel like you have three heads and six arms, go together. Just don't go into the horns of symbols." Liang Zongdai laughed out loud. Everyone laughed together.Lin Huiyin laughed the loudest. That wave washed bright eyes like twin stars in the room.