Chapter 66 On "Literary Criticism"

A real literary work is full of emotion.The author writes it, and the readers read it. When they have spiritual contact, they will naturally have various understandings and criticisms. Spiritual contact can produce sympathy, and at the same time, it can also produce non-sympathy. "Sympathy without sympathy" is to completely reverse the whole work, from melancholy to joy, from joy to melancholy, only expressing sympathy for the words in our eyes; although it is also a general praise, but in the author On the one hand, the original meaning and value of the work has been completely lost.

I deeply feel that when we readers have all kinds of understanding and criticism, we are almost irresponsible to the author.The reason is the author's inheritance and environment, as well as the author's philosophy of life, we can't know in detail—or don't know at all—what was his motivation when he wrote the text, let alone know.In addition, when we are reading, we still have our own state of mind and prejudice. With this state of mind and prejudice, we can go forward and criticize literary works without thinking, just like wearing blue glasses. ——I don't need to say more about the result, but the author has been wronged by infinite sympathy!

We have to deeply admit that before we understand the author himself, the criticism of the work is exactly the opposite of the original intention of the work. "Compassion without compassion" The praise of the author destroys creation more than the attack of sympathy. ——The most unfortunate thing is that our well-intentioned praise may unknowingly wipe out a few timid writers! There can only be one author, but there can be tens of millions of readers at the same time.Under thousands of moods and prejudices, the works that emerge can have thousands of incarnations.The original meaning of the work has been torn apart piece by piece.

The author--the author who does not lose heart--can avoid this danger only by adding a million words of notes to the bottom of his work. ——I personally don't want to fall into the position of the author to add notes.Make his lively works become allusive poems. In this way, the real "literature" will be completely wiped out from the world! Before the writers of the world, I am one of the readers.I want to admit, I want to apologize, and I want to make a deep promise.The light from his stars, the fragrance from his flowers, when this side of myself is reflected before I fully understand it, never make them feel in the slightest of my influence.I only have silence, only hope, and only this indifferent sincerity, to salute the sacred literature that I cannot understand or explore now! I looked up and caught a glimpse of the goddess of the "future"—your crown of sweet-scented osmanthus, your snow-white feather coat.The wreath on your chest is as bright red as blood, and as white as teardrops.Your wings just fly, and your qin just plays.Why do you just fly forward and refuse to look back?

Your bright face: Maybe it's joy, maybe it's gloomy; maybe it's a smile, maybe it's sad; it just makes me feel confused——Why do you just fly forward and refuse to look back?The future—the cape of the sea, the end of the world, the sky—the world, are all guided by you—why do you just fly forward and refuse to look back?Look - there are only fluttering clouds,  piano rhyme, rustling wind; how - how?Why do you just fly forward and refuse to look back? January 26, 1922. water". )