Chapter 53 Cozy feeling (3)

Besides, yesterday was Floyd Day.That afternoon, I was eating chocolate.I love eating chocolate, which is probably the only thing I have in common with my mother and sister.I was munching on chocolate hazelnuts when I suddenly felt like one of my teeth was cracked.I immediately ran to the mirror to see what was going on, and found that half of one front tooth was actually missing.I remember that when I was shopping in Campe last summer, I tripped over a rope and fell to the ground. At that time, half of my tooth fell out. Since then, this small tooth has gradually become smaller with time. Getting smaller and smaller.All in all, this half-missing tooth made me very funny, because I remembered what my mother told about a dream she often had: her teeth fell out, then turned black, and the last one after another Finished.This is what her psychiatrist said when interpreting the dream for her: "Dear madam, Freudians tell you that this is a dream with signs of death." It's ridiculous, isn't it?It's not even because of the childishness of the interpretations (tooth loss = death, umbrella = male sex organs, etc.), as if culture isn't some great suggestive force that has nothing to do with the truth of things.But for using a stagnant approach to grounding the superiority of human intellect on supposedly ethereal intellectual theories (“Freudians tell you”), it strikes me as a A parrot that learns to speak.

Luckily, to forget about it, I went to Grand's house today for tea and delicious nata de sac.He came to my house to invite me personally, and said to my mother: "We met on the elevator and we got along very well." "Is it true?" My mother was surprised when she heard that , "Well, you're lucky, my daughter hardly talks to us." "Would you like a cup of tea at my house? I can introduce you to my cat." Grand asked me, of course, because I was the bait for the next series of stories, and my mother immediately agreed for me without hesitation.She was already imagining herself as a modern-day geisha invited to the homes of wealthy Japanese.It should be stated that Mr. Ozu is so popular because he is really rich (seems to be).Anyway, I went to his house for tea and got to know his cat.Well, to be honest, I don't think his cat is as good as mine, but at least it is much better decorative than mine.I expressed my opinion to Grand, and he replied that he thought the oak tree was alive and spiritual, all the more reason that the cat had the same qualities.We continued with the precise statement about wisdom, and he asked me if I would allow me to put this sentence in his patent leather book, which was: "It is not a gift from heaven, but the only weapon of primates."

Then our conversation turned to Mrs. Michel.He thinks her cat is named Leo because of Leo Tolstoy, and we all think it's an extraordinary thing for a concierge to read Tolstoy's novels and have books published by Wenham Press .He even had solid evidence that she liked the book and decided to give it to her. "We'll see how she reacts," he said. However, this is not my deep thought today.Today's profound thought comes from a sentence that Grand mentioned.We talk about Russian literature, which I know nothing about.Grand explained to me that he liked Tolstoy because his novels were "novels of the whole world," and also because they were set in Russia, a country where field Birch trees can be seen on every corner of the city. During the Napoleonic Wars, the Russian nobles had to relearn Russian because they had always only spoken French.Well, this is all grown-up talk, but the good thing about chatting with Grand is that he will be very polite from the beginning to the end. Even if you don't care about the content of his speech, it is still very pleasant to listen to him because he is really Talks to you, and you are the only one he talks to.This is the first time I met someone who cared about me, when he spoke to me: He didn't wait for me to agree or object, he looked at me as if to say: "Who are you? Do you want to talk to me I'd love to talk to you." That's what I mean by politeness, one's attitude can make another feel like he's there.Well, referring to what he said, the Russians of the Great Russian Empire, I don't care at all.They speak French?that is really good!I also speak French, and I don't oppress the serfs, but then again, I didn't understand at first why I cared so much about birches.Grand mentions that the Russian countryside is full of adaptable, rustling birches, and I feel light, light...

Later, after a little thought, I kind of understood Grand's sudden pleasure when he spoke of Russian birches.I feel the same way when people refer to trees, no matter what they are: the linden in the farm yard, the oak behind the old barn, the great elm long gone now, the leeward pine with its long bend ,etc.What a human thing it is to show affection for trees, how nostalgic our first admiration is, how little human power is in nature... yes, that's it: to all trees, their indifferent majesty , and the remembrance of their love, allows us to realize how insignificant we are, ugly parasites lingering on the surface of the earth, and at the same time makes our lives worth continuing because of our ability to realize The beauty of nature.

Grand speaking of the birch made me forget about psychoanalysis and all the smart people who only know how to use their wit, and suddenly I felt old enough to appreciate the very great beauty of the birch.