Chapter 3 The Miracle of Art (2)

Sometimes adults seem to spend some time sitting in a chair and thinking about their miserable lives.They sigh out of thin air, and like flies that keep hitting the same window, they sway, struggle, weaken, and finally fall, and they ask themselves why life is taking them where they don't want to go.The wisest take it for a religion: O shameful emptiness of bourgeois life!And some of these cynics, who dine at the same table as Dad, "What have become of our youthful dreams?" they ask with disillusioned, contented faces. "They dream of passing away and live like a dog." I'm tired of this false "matureness" of self-seeking sobriety.In fact, like other children, they don't understand what happened to them, and they try to play the tough guy, but they feel so sad that they want to cry.

However, it's easy to understand.Children believe what adults say, and when they step into adult society, they continue to deceive their children in order to avenge the adults' deception. "Life is meaningful, but it is entirely in the hands of adults."This is a lie widely believed by all.By the time we're adults, it's too late to realize this was wrong.The mystery of the lie is still intact, but the energy at its disposal has long been exhausted in follies.In the end all that's left is the ego numbness and the attempt to hide the fact that there is no meaning to life, and that people lie to their children time and time again just to convince themselves better.

Those who were close to my family all followed the same path: trying to get their ingenuity rewarded in youth, squeezing lemons for knowledge, securing elite positions, and then spending their lives wondering in amazement why this was happening. So much painstaking efforts in the end but only end up with such a meaningless life.People believe that chasing the stars will pay off, and end up like goldfish in a fishbowl.I wondered if it would be easier if they were taught from childhood that life is absurd.While doing so might rob us of the good times of childhood, we'll gain plenty of time as adults—and at least, we'll be spared one kind of trauma, the trauma of being in a fishbowl.

I, twelve years old, live in a fancy house at 7 rue de Grenelle.My parents were rich, my family was rich, so my sister and I were probably rich too.My father became a member of parliament after being a minister, and may be the chairman of the National Assembly. The Palais Lasai is located in the seventh district of Paris. It is a unique restaurant on the University Street. It is currently the official residence of the speaker of the National Assembly. --Annotation of fine wine in the wine cellar.My mother... My mother wasn't exactly a brilliant person, but she was well educated.She holds a doctorate in literature.Of course, she has no problem writing dinner invitations, and sometimes she'll drop us a book bag every now and then ("Colombes, don't act Guermantes", "My darling, you're the real San "Severina" Guermantes is a character in Proust's novel, and Sanseverina is a character in Stendhal's novel "The Abbey of Parma".--Annotation).

Still, as lucky and rich as I am, I have long known that my end in life is a goldfish bowl.How do I know?In fact, I'm very smart, I might even say terribly smart.If people see kids my age, they will understand how unfathomable I am.Because I don't want to get too much attention, especially in a family where intelligence is a paramount value, a super-intelligent child will never have a peaceful life, so in school, I try to lower my grades, But even so, I was always number one.One might think that it would be easy for someone like me who, at the age of twelve, to reach the preparatory level of the École Normale Supérieure, to play the role of a person with a normal IQ, but in fact, it is not so easy!I'm always looking for ways to do things that make people feel stupider.But to a certain extent, this will not make me feel bored: all the time that does not need to be spent on learning and understanding, I will imitate the style of ordinary good students, their ability to answer questions, their attitude towards others, and their attitude. Small mistakes and things they think are important.I read all the homework of Constance Barre, the second in my class, including math, French, and history, and that's how I learned what I was supposed to do: French is a series of close-knit words and correct spelling, and math is Meaningless calculation formulas are copied mechanically, and history is a series of facts connected with logical connectors.But even compared to adults, I'm smarter than most of them.It was true and I was never proud of it because I didn't do anything.But for sure, I can't get into the fish tank.This is a decision made after careful consideration.Even for someone as smart as me, as gifted at learning, different, and outstanding, life has already been defined, and the sad thing is that no one seems to ever think that, in fact, if life is absurd, then great success, no matter how valuable it is, is no better than failure.It's just going to be more comfortable.Not quite so comfortable, I'm afraid: I believe that a bright mind makes success bitter and mediocrity makes life hopeful.