When I was a child, the sun was much hotter, the grass was much more lush, it rained much harder, and it was much darker. Everyone was very interesting. Understanding life poetically and everything around us is the most precious gift we have got since childhood.
If a person has not lost this talent in the long years of adulthood, then he is a writer. In the final analysis, there is not much difference between poets and writers.
2. When inspiration comes to us, it's like a bright morning in summer. The fog in the quiet night has just been dispelled by it, and the wet green leaves are covered with crystal dew. This morning, it carefully blew a healthy chill on our faces. Inspiration is like first love. My heart is pounding, looking forward to a wonderful date, looking forward to seeing beautiful indescribable eyes and smiles, looking forward to an embarrassing conversation.
In my opinion, a talented writer can start writing without any outline. A genius's inner world is so rich, any theme, any thought, any accident, any thing can inspire his endless torrent of association.
No wonder Baladinsky, who is very familiar with Pushkin's writing, described Pushkin like this: Young Pushkin, a great frivolous man, wrote a life of flesh and blood in just a few strokes ... 4. Someone once went to see Tolstoy and accused him of being too cruel to Anna karenin, making her commit suicide on the tracks. Tolstoy smiled and replied, "Your opinion reminds me of something about Pushkin.
Once, he said to a friend,' Look, Tatiana played a joke on me. She is married.
I never thought that she would do such a thing. I can say the same thing to Anna karenin.
Generally speaking, my hero and heroine sometimes like to play jokes that I don't like! They do what they should do in real life, what they are used to doing, not what I want them to do. "Only when the writer begins to write, a work begins to really live effectively in the writer's consciousness, so there is nothing to make a fuss about and nothing to be sad about.
Never cram the observed material, even the most successful material, into the work at random. Once needed, they will enter the work by themselves and take their positions.
To the writer's constant surprise, an accident or detail that has been completely forgotten will suddenly appear vividly in his memory when the work needs these materials. One of the foundations of writing is a good memory.
6. It often takes some time to test and evaluate the appeal and perfection of literature, and to feel the breath and immortal beauty of literature. If time can make love and other feelings disappear, just like missing people, then time can make real literature immortal.
7. Almost every writer has his own inspiration and patron saint, and he is generally a writer. I just read a few lines of the latter book and I want to write it at once.
Some books seem to sprinkle nectar, intoxicate us, infect us and urge us to pick up the pen. Strangely, such writers, such patrons, the nature, style and theme of their creations are often quite different from ours.
8. Only those who can tell people new, meaningful and interesting things can become writers, and only those who can see many things that others have not noticed. 9. There are as many writers as there are writing habits.
Fielding only writes what he can see clearly and is inseparable from the whole. Flaubert struggled for the perfection of style all his life.
He is so eager for his novels to be as pure as crystal that he repeatedly and carefully revised the manuscript, sometimes to the point where he could not control himself. For Balzac, the characters in his works are all living people, all his beloved relatives and friends.
He sometimes called them bad guys and idiots, sometimes patted them on the shoulder with a big smile to thank them, and sometimes clumsily comforted them because of misfortune. Lev tolstoy only writes in the morning.
He said that every writer has a personal critic in his heart. Critics are often the most critical in the morning and fall asleep at night.
Dostoevsky felt the pain of writing, of course, not because he wrote at night and kept drinking tea. But because he can't get rid of debt and financial difficulties, he has to rush to write, just to make a difference.
"Poverty forced me to write in a hurry," he said. "It forced me to regard writing as a business, so what I wrote was certainly not good." Chekhov's apartment was crowded and noisy when he was young, but he was able to write on the windowsill in this environment.
His short story The Hunter was even written in the bathhouse. Lermontov grabbed a piece of paper and could write a poem with a wave of his hand, which made people feel that these poems appeared in his mind instantly.
Alexei tolstoy can only write when there is a pile of clean and good paper in front of him. The French poet Berenry can write folk songs in a crappy cafe.
Ehrenburg also likes to write in cafes. Andersen likes to conceive fairy tales in the forest.
He has extremely keen and excellent eyesight. In short, everything in the forest, every stump covered with moss, and every brown ant robber (dragging it like a beautiful princess dragging an insect with transparent green wings to plunder) can become a fairy tale.
10. Imagination is the medium to stimulate creative thinking and the golden state of poetry and prose. Imagination is the beginning of artistic vitality and the "eternal sun and god" of art.
Imagination is a great gift from nature. This is human nature.
The poet Brock said: I occasionally found a foreign dust on a knife-the world suddenly became strange and colorful.
2. Golden roses blooming in lush years. The long river of years is deposited in the sediment of time, and time is fluffy. On a quiet night, I found my memory shrouded in moonlight. ...
Unconsciously, the six years of primary school passed quickly, which made me feel that it was just a dream. When I wake up, I hope to see familiar faces. Friend, this is very important to me. Somehow, my sense of security is almost zero, and I always feel that people around me are always close to you with a purpose. Therefore, few friends can be said to be pitiful! I long for friendship and friends, even if there is only one!
Almost all of them are in grade three. Occasionally there was a burst of "ha ha ha ....." Laughter. I looked up and saw a girl laughing unscrupulously in the corridor, regardless of the image. I stayed there for a while and worshipped her very much. I can share my happiness happily and laugh with my friends. She probably found me looking at her, walked up to me, patted me and said, "classmate, we are in the same class, why don't we make friends?" Say that finish, reach out to me, this is what I found, yes, she is the girl sitting in the fourth row in our class. I held out my hand hesitantly, and our hands were held together. Since then, we have never been apart. If you persist, you are doomed forever. From that moment on, my personality became extroverted, just like a beam of sunshine shining into my long forgotten heart.
When we entered junior high school, we were admitted to the same school again, still playing like that and laughing like that. This laughter is the warmth that will never float in the depths of memory. A friend is the only one who scolds you while wiping your tears. A friend walks in when everyone else walks out. I just want to say: it's good to have you!
Companionship is your gentle and comforting words when I am sad; Companionship is when I cry, you silently wipe the tears from my eyes and tell me "you don't have to pretend to be strong in front of me"; Companionship is when I am sentimental, you quietly listen to my sad words. ...
Fourteen-year-old, green fork, thank you for your company, so that the path of lush years is full of golden wild roses.
3. Golden roses blooming in lush years. The long river of years is deposited in the sediment of time, and time is fluffy.
On a quiet night, I found my memory shrouded in moonlight ... Unconsciously, the six years of primary school passed quickly, making me feel that it was just a dream. When I wake up, I hope to see familiar faces. Friend, this is very important to me.
Somehow, my sense of security is almost zero, and I always feel that people around me are always close to you with a purpose. Therefore, few friends can be said to be pitiful! I long for friendship and friends, even if there is only one! Almost all of them are in grade three. Occasionally there was a burst of "ha ha ha ....." Laughter. I looked up and saw a girl laughing unscrupulously in the corridor, regardless of the image. I stayed there for a while and worshipped her very much. I can share my happiness happily and laugh with my friends.
She probably found me looking at her, walked up to me, patted me and said, "classmate, we are in the same class, why don't we make friends?" Say that finish, reach out to me, this is what I found, yes, she is the girl sitting in the fourth row in our class. I held out my hand hesitantly, and our hands were held together. Since then, we have never been apart.
If you persist, you are doomed forever. From that moment on, my personality became extroverted, just like a beam of sunshine shining into my long forgotten heart.
When we entered junior high school, we were admitted to the same school again, still playing like that and laughing like that. This laughter is the warmth that will never float in the depths of memory.
A friend is the only one who scolds you while wiping your tears. A friend walks in when everyone else walks out. I just want to say: it's good to have you! Companionship is your gentle and comforting words when I am sad; Companionship is when I cry, you silently wipe the tears from my eyes and tell me "you don't have to pretend to be strong in front of me"; Companionship means that when I am sentimental, you quietly listen to my sad words ... Thank you for your company at the fork of the fourteenth, so that the path in the lush years is full of golden wild roses.
4. Waiting for the answer from the golden rose in full bloom 1. Read the full text and tell me what kind of person my father is.
My father is a kind, frank, helpful and caring person.
2. Fill in the appropriate related words in the horizontal line of paragraph (3)
The reason is because
3. What is the function of the sentence added in the sixth paragraph?
It paved the way for the later "I" to understand the situation of the flower management company and go to the little girl's house to know the truth in person.
4. How to understand "I want her to feel slowly" in paragraph 12. . There will be a splendid flower season of life.
Selfless care and lasting hope are the truly beautiful things in the world. Once we have them, our life will become colorful, and we will have a splendid flower season-no matter how much misfortune you suffer.
There are two underlined sentences in this article, please choose one to comment.
Example: "Soon" is about the short and quick time for my father to make a decision to resign. This sentence shows that my father decided to resign and retire early because he didn't want people to know the mystery and didn't want to break the beautiful hope in the little girl's heart, which showed his kindness and love.
For those who have read the Golden Rose, please tell me that reading less is nothing to boast about. Being familiar with a writer once in a while is nothing to boast about. Sometimes I have the urge to miss Zweig, and I wonder if this is a shame. If we can't really understand this outstanding silent cry, it is an insult to welcome it blindly. In fact, it is not good for the author and himself.
While keeping keen and passionate, we can still treat the world calmly and fairly. Even if I hate something, I always give it up humbly. A person will die and a flower will wither. What can last as long as the sun, the moon and the stars is something that is divorced from the writer's work itself. Zweig has been wandering all his life, but he has never been flustered Besides the beautiful words themselves, it should be more meaningful.
The boundary between perceiving the world and touching the world is different. Individualization makes the plain world mysterious and unspeakable. Interestingly, writers have been fighting against it paradoxically. The writer makes the world more mysterious, in fact, he wants to lift the veil of mystery. Although in fact, how to break that boundary and make different worlds live in harmony has been completely entrusted to readers themselves. And will remain powerless to the worldview of all readers.
As a writer himself, he may have lost the right to rely on reading works and watching the world like other readers. But at the same time, I accepted an obligation without complaint. Their judgment of their own value and significance seems clearer and firmer.
There is no doubt that Zweig's contribution in this respect is outstanding. The appearance of world architects in his works is entirely out of his inner love. Zweig must have touched those gorgeous souls impartially with the clearest heart. Although only God knows whether all expressions for justice can really be consistent with the noumenon.
Writers regard this obligation as enjoyment out of a real sense of honor.
I've digressed. I started reading the Golden Rose for the first time when others had reread it countless times. If it weren't for my younger brother, I'd probably always be confused. Zweig is not the only outstanding writer. There won't be only one writer who has the power of personality. They mean the same thing: all experiences and feelings do not come from boasting.
At this point, their beauty can be lifelike.
Apart from the short story Precious Dust, this is not a pure lyric prose. More like the author's experience of writing all the time. Unfortunately, it is too difficult for me to try to understand some intimate experiences.
Just as reading is not to show your knowledge, so is writing. Sometimes, some uncertain meanings will pop up on their own. It is presented to yourself before it is presented to others. It looks a little strange and so familiar.
Babbitt expects such "word betrayal", just like every writer who has waited for them. I used it as a driving force for writing, but in the end an unexpected Anna appeared. Both Zweig and Pasteur highly praised its author Tolstoy. Perhaps only they can really enjoy the bitter ecstasy brought by Tolstoy.
As the Russian writer has always been, he is used to suffering deeply. Pasteur's pursuit of beauty seems to have evolved from suffering. Recalling some things and telling some things is to show them to the world perfectly. He is as good at touching the souls of those writers as Zweig. In these creative speeches, Babbitt led others to see the birthplace of idealism. The knees of those who see it will never yield.
The world is different from the world. Because there are such people. Everything that is afraid or fearless also travels through the world. And the door between the world and the world is * * *. It can't stop people from going to the window from the heart and seeing the world they think:
I often forget the world.
In the sweet silence "
6. Composition: John Shamei, the golden rose in full bloom in those years, the cleaner of the golden rose in those years, lives in a thatched cottage in the suburbs, next to the shabby houses of foreign blacksmiths, shoemakers and beggars who pick up cigarette butts.
No one would have thought that Shamei would have a beautiful golden rose. Shamei quietly put away the garbage swept out of the jewelry workshop every day, put it in his pocket and took it to his thatched cottage.
Neighbors thought he was crazy, but they didn't know that there were some gold scraps filed by craftsmen at work in the dust. In the middle of the night, Shamei carefully and patiently winnowed the dust in the jewelry workshop with a small sieve to screen out the tiny gold scraps hidden inside.
But it is not every day that he is lucky enough to sift out the gold powder. However, Shamei does this every day, day by day, and recently she has accumulated enough to cast a small gold ingot.
Shamei hired a craftsman to turn this gold ingot into a very delicate rose. No one thought that Samui made a golden rose in this way.
7. Golden Rose's post-reading writing is a wonderful work. Personally, I like to write and record my recent thoughts, whether for myself or for others. This action itself can bring me some unexpected benefits.
The book "Golden Rose" roughly tells the author's views on writing, including writing techniques and inspiration, and includes some of his novels. I can't comment too much on this book, but reading this book really made me think a lot.
I have a blog, which records a lot of my thoughts and logic; For a while, I thought about the purpose of writing a blog, what is the difference between writing an article on a blog and writing it in a composition book or saving it on a local computer disk, and what is the significance of this behavior. Perhaps out of conceit? Maybe I want to transform the stubborn world like an arrogant sage? Maybe I want to make myself famous through my blog? Finally, I found that these reasons are not correct. After reading the book, I thought about it. Writing and publishing, in my opinion, is to prove my existence to the world. In my own works, I generously sum up my life experiences into words to tell everyone and show them what I think is kind and beautiful. There is a famous saying in "Golden Rose" that "a writer will be fully happy only when he is sure that his conscience is consistent with the conscience of others"-if the author here regards the consistency of conscience as a condition for writing, then I regard writing as a means to make his conscience consistent with everyone.
Let others read my blog. Did I transform society or did society transform me? The two are equivalent: the influence is mutual. A writer should not appear in his works as a noble person, but should be equal to readers and discuss the views in his works with them. On this point, I found myself with the same point of view in the book again.
I want to further discuss writing in a big environment; Different from the book, "Golden Rose" mainly talks about all aspects of the novel. I will try to explain the writing of "whole" next. When it comes to writing, the first thing that comes to mind is the Bible. In my opinion, this is the greatest work in the history of human literature. It has completely changed the course of history, and most modern western countries believe in Christianity. Although this work describes the world of God, we can't forget that it was written by people. The author of the Bible is like a god. He partially controls the direction of the world. This is the power of writing. As a summary of human civilization, its appearance has in turn affected human civilization. As the embodiment of the author's conscience, its appearance in turn changed the human conscience.
Other works, similarly, whether novels, poems or essays, have different understanding of history and different perspectives; Macro-writing, I think, is the history written by all mankind for themselves, and it is the greatest history. Writing is like a mirror, telling people where our civilization has gone now. We look at ourselves in the mirror and make appropriate adjustments and changes to our image. This is probably the reason why Postovski, the author of The Golden Rose, let us touch life and love the earth, because only in this way can writing reflect the most real world.
Based on the above, I am sure that writing itself is beautiful. Like all natural disciplines, it promotes human development, helps the world understand the world, helps the world transform the world, and helps the world become a better world.