Chapter 153 Five His Frontiers

The wild child loves the city, but also loves the quiet, he is more or less leisurely.Nostalgia for the city is like Phrax, and nostalgia for the mountains is like Phrax. Walking and thinking, that is to say, wandering, is a good way for philosophers to pass their time, especially in the rather ugly, grotesque countryside that surrounds some large cities, Paris in particular, and is a combination of these two scenery. Even more so.Looking at the suburbs is like watching amphibians.The end of trees, the beginning of roofs, the end of weeds, the beginning of stone pavement, the end of plow marks, the beginning of shops, the end of ruts, the beginning of desire, the end of the sound of nature, the beginning of human voice, so it is particularly interesting. abundant.

Hence the contemplative wanders aimlessly at those places that lack allure and have always been considered "bleak" by passers-by. The person who wrote these lines used to wander around the suburbs of Paris, and it is still a source of deep memories for him today.The shallow grass, the stony paths, the chalk, the clay, the lime slag, the insipid wastelands and fallow fields, the sudden appearance of fresh vegetables cultivated by vegetable farmers in the depressions, this combination of nature and the bourgeoisie, the desolate and desolate forest fields , where the drummers in the barracks, as if taking training as a child's play, beat the war drums to a chaotic sound. He was attracted by the strange scenery on the large wasteland divided into several squares vertically and horizontally by the dark high wall, the sun was shining brightly, and there were thousands of butterflies.

There is hardly anyone in the world who does not know these strange places: the ice cellar, the Cournet, the hideous bullet-scarred wall of Grenelle, the Mont Parnes, the Jackal's Pit, Aubiere-sur-Marne, Montsouris , the Issoire Tomb, and the Sardion Rock that was used to grow bacteria after the stone was mined, and there was a rotten trapdoor on the ground.The countryside near Rome is one kind of concept, and the suburbs near Paris are another concept. If we only see fields, houses or trees in our field of vision, we are staying on the surface. represents the will of God.The place where the wilderness and the city meet always has an indescribable sense of melancholy, which is refreshing.There, nature and man are at work in front of you at the same time.Local characteristics are also presented in those places.

Those wildernesses about our suburbs may be called the hailles of Paris, and those who have wandered there as we have, have glimpsed here and there, in the remotest spot, at the most unexpected hour, or in a gloomy In the corner of the wall, some noisy children in small groups, yellow and emaciated, dusty, torn, and disheveled, were playing coin tossing with cornflower wreaths.Those are all kids who sneaked out from poor families.The tree-lined road outside the city is where they breathe, and the countryside is their world.They spend forever in those places.They sang bawdly sets of bawdy songs innocently.Where they stay, or rather, they live, unnoticed, kneeling around a little hole in the ground in the warm May or June sun, playing marbles with their thumbs bent, vying for a piece of paper. Winning or losing two pennies, no sense of responsibility, carefree, undisciplined, happy; when they see you, they suddenly remember that they have a legitimate job and have to solve their lives, so they come to you to buy one An old wool sock covered in beetles or a bouquet of cloves.It was a delightful pleasure in the suburbs of Paris, as well as a chill, to meet that strange child.

Sometimes there were some girls among the boys—sisters? —they were almost big girls, thin, fickle, with blackened hands, freckled faces, rye ears and poppies on their heads, happy, wild, barefoot.Some stayed in the wheat fields and ate cherries.One hears their laughter at night.These groups of children who are burned by the scorching sun at noon, or faintly appear in the twilight, often make people full of reveries sad, and they can't forget them for a long time, and their dreams are still haunted by those visions. Paris, the center, the suburbs, the circumference, that was the whole world of those children.They never go beyond that.They cannot escape the atmosphere of Paris any more than fish can leave the water.For them there was nothing more than two leagues from the gates.Ivry, Gentieri, Agueil, Belleville, Aubervilliers, Menilmontin, Choisy-le-Roi, Billancourt, Meudon, Issy, Vanwall, Homphreux, Puteaux, Neuilly, Jeannevilliers, Colombes, Romainville, Chateau, Asnières, Bougival, Nanterre, Ange, Noisy-le-Sec, Nogent, Gournay, Derains Si, Knaus, that is the end of the universe.