About the author: George Thornton,
(1804 ~ 1876) French female novelist. Her original name is Aurore Dupont, and she was born in Paris on July 1804. Her father was an officer of the First Reich. She was raised by her grandmother and entered a monastery in Paris at the age of 13. 18 married Baron du Wangde, but she was not satisfied with her marriage. She went to Paris at the age of 183 1 and began to live independently. George sand began to engage in literary creation after he moved to Paris. From her early works, we can see the complex influence of Rousseau, chateaubriand and Byron. Shortly after the July Revolution, she published her first novel "Antia Na" (1832), which became famous in one fell swoop and was out of control from then on. George sand is a prolific writer. She has written more than 65,438+000 volumes of literary and artistic works, 20 volumes of memoirs about my life, and a large number of letters and political articles. Her novels can be roughly divided into four stages: the early works are called passionate novels, and the representative works are Antiana, valentina (1832) and Lelia (1833), all of which describe unfortunate women in love, who are disappointed with life, persistently pursue independence and freedom, and are full of youthful enthusiasm and rebellious will. The works in the second stage are utopian socialist novels, and the representative works include A Brief History of Woodworking (1840), Conro (1843) and The Grinder in Anji Fort (1845). In these works, he put forward the fate of women in capitalist society. Although he failed to clearly point out the road to liberation, his works exposed the evils of society at that time, attacked the capitalist property system and marriage system, and then put forward the ideal of utopian socialism. The works in the third stage are pastoral novels, including Magic Swamp (1846), Fran? ois the Abandoned Child (1848) and Little Fadette (1849). George sand's pastoral novels are good at expressing emotions, describing the beautiful scenery of nature, and rendering the quiet and warm atmosphere of the countryside, which is full of romance. The fourth stage works are legendary novels, and the representative works are "A Beautiful Man in Jinlin" (1858). During the Second Empire, she had close contacts with the royal family and didn't know much about the Paris Commune Revolution, but she opposed the cruel suppression of commune members. George sand died on1June 7th, 876. George sand belongs to one of the earliest European writers who reflected the life of workers and peasants. Her works are exquisite in description, beautiful and smooth in writing, euphemistic and friendly in style and strong in appeal.
Text: Beethoven's pastoral symphony-george sand.
This is what I saw while listening to Beethoven's great symphony:
The first thing I saw was the vast plain: empty and flat. I thought it was a humus layer of shrub leaves, which was very dry. There are no sheep and no people on the plain. I was exhausted and lying on the ground. I tried to stand up first, but it was useless. Instead, I knelt down bit by bit, and then stood facing the sky.
The sky above me is gloomy. Everywhere is shrouded in fog. I only find yellow light flashing from time to time in the distance, and it is more and more dazzling, and the light is expanding. They gradually lit up the horizon, first orange, then copper. When the sky is dyed with this dazzling color, the plain becomes darker. The fiery red sky contrasts with the lines of the earth on the horizon, just as people see it at sunset, but there is no sun in this world.
Then, I seem to feel the sky getting dark, like a touchable dome approaching the earth. I thought I could touch it with my hands, and I held out my hands.
At the same time, the earth seems to have retreated. I feel that I have fallen into the void. Somehow, I stand firm between heaven and earth.
The earth is still getting dark and the sky is still shining with warm and bright light. I am very close to the sky, and my forehead will touch this bright dome. I feel horrible. There is a strong vibration in the air, like a loud bugle tearing my world apart. I fell, but I don't know where I fell. I can't see myself anymore, and I can't feel my existence.
When I jumped up again, it was far away and the earth was completely submerged in the darkness of night. A soft and warm breeze brushed my face and I flew off the ground. I walked on the ground for a long time, trying to find the way to the sky again, but every time the wind stopped, I would fall down again. Finally, the wind strengthened, and through the space beyond the horizon, I found that the long golden light cut through the gloomy thick clouds, and I flew in that direction.
However, when I rushed to the confusing light more urgently, the horizon let the broad realm retreat. Every time I think about catching these lights, they go out, light up further away and fall into endless space. The earth is endless, the sky always reappears, and I am exhausted. It feels like this trip lasted for a whole century.
Finally, the warm wind blew all over the sky, and suddenly became strong. Like an eagle spreading its wings, I quickly rose to the void. As a result, the five-color light disappeared There is nothing under my feet except the vast space.
But I still vaguely found the disappearing fire in the distant world. The dim reflection of the earth rose to faintly audible music, which was very light. The breeze interrupted its tune from time to time and spread into the vast universe.
After that, everything was calm. I am lonely, quietly integrated into the silence of the clouds.
However, I don't know what the sound of flapping wings is approaching me quickly from the depths of space. I saw many dark parades with wings coming from all angles in the sky. At first, they were like a flock of birds. Later, their appearance changed, and I saw them clearly. But I can't describe them, because when I can't see them, I will forget their shapes.
I only know that they come in droves, just like desert caravans: there are snow-white teams and black teams. Thousands of troops are rolling in, so many new teams are emerging every moment, and the sky is dark. It seems impossible for me to fly in it all the time. I had to fly around at random in these parades. They are as confused and uneasy as I am, and their sad or savage voices are filled with layers of dark clouds.
This is anxiety for a long time. This is a confusion of worry and fear. Some people will compare this to a flock of seagulls dispersed by a storm. These dancing elves are all looking for the way to heaven, but no one asks the way. They collided with each other and lost their companions. An elf as white as a dove and an elf as black as a crow fly side by side.
The stronger the wind blows, the phalanx may be swept away by the autumn morning wind like poplar leaves at any time and disappear without a trace.
There was a deep voice in the storm, which drowned all other voices and reached my ears: "Go, my elves," said the terrible voice, "Fight bravely! My storm is fierce, but you are born strong. My hand will let you pass the test. Fight! Suffering from the impact of the storm, my calm after rest and the glory of my sky belong only to the strong. And those places that slip under my feet will be shelters for the weak. "
As soon as he said these words, the storm became more and more crazy, and the elves became more and more courageous and fighting spirit. The wind is very dark, and I feel very lonely for a moment in the wind. My partner who fought with me disappeared in those difficult places, but suddenly turned around under the push of the headwind and occupied the area where I drifted in groups. I am afraid, sometimes because of my loneliness, sometimes because of these countless wanderers, who together with me blocked the road to eternity.
I finally noticed that those elves with white robes and wings rose higher than other elves. I thought angels were white. I just want to see myself at this moment. When I found myself as black as the smoke of hell, I was very scared. I feel sad when I see other people reach the moment of infinite happiness. I closed my wings in frustration and let myself slide from one space to another. I didn't ask where I was going, nor did I ask if God's mercy could look down on me and save me from the nothingness that surrounded me.
I once again fell into the unknown abyss, where darkness greeted me and wrapped me tightly like a shroud.
There is a faint light shining in the deep blue abyss, and I seem to wake up from a dream. I looked around and saw the terrible cliff at my feet. The rock I sit on is long and narrow, protruding into the abyss, and the smoke-red waves at the bottom of the abyss roar like burning blood. Above me, the sky disappeared into the night, and it just appeared in front of me through the cracks in the scattered rocks.
However, looking up at the dark sky, I saw a blue star shining in the sky. At first, its light was weak, and it always disappeared from my sight. I believe I dreamed about it. However, the starlight expands bit by bit, bright and brilliant. Its bright aura is getting bigger and bigger, which seems to throw a beam of skylight at me. I plucked up my courage again and started flying again. However, the same cold wind roared out of the big hole in the abyss and pushed me deep into the earth. Every new effort to fight, I am exhausted and fall on the rugged rock again; My dusty black wings hang like bat wings on the cliff protruding from the abyss. The sound from this underground storm made me feel the biting fear and sadness from my heart. The voice roared into the silent prison and was compressed. It burst into a demonic cry and shook the overlapping mountains.
This terrible voice has a reassuring and solemn meaning. I imagine this is a voice from the sky, and it will promise to help me. I started my struggle again. The flame came at me from the depths of darkness, the red smoke of the volcano suffocated me, and the fiery magma flowed on the cliff.
Suddenly, the horn sounded. This is the horn of the archangel and the signal of the final judgment. My prison is broken like a fragile crystal, and it has become a fragment around me. Once again, I am lonely and free on the plains of the sky. But this time, I flew to God quickly and effortlessly. Soft clouds, some as white as goose down, some as golden as the sea in the morning sun, rolled under me and I flew towards a more beautiful and pure sky. I feel tired and weak. I am like a swallow that walks with the wind, and I am floating in the air like a feather that flies with the wind. Cool and pleasant tears flow on me, washing away the black that wraps me. I gradually turned white, like a lily. I saw the happy elves around me holding hands and praising God in unison. As the sky gradually opened, I heard a voice from a height: "Come, my strong one, go to rest." But I didn't see anything, because the symphony was over.