At the beginning, I wanted to imitate the beginning of Lolita. Slowly, I read your name in a syllable, and set the tone of the article on the tip of the tongue and the captain, but I felt that some intimacy was blurred. Later I wanted to use seriousness. The serious sentences highlight the meaning that you have irreplaceable in my opinion, but they are too strange and polite. If you are born in my time, or if I am fortunate to live in your time, I will do my best to see you once, looking at your black coat, the smoke in your mouth, and the dark circles. For me, this is what all writers and philosophers should have. They are not on the stage at the dinner party, but they are drinking on the side of the road under the dim light, but they give the children a smile.
Of course, this is my image of your dreams, based on a few young photos on the encyclopedia and a warm tone when you write. Because of the car accident, you have escaped the “beautiful beauty, the end of the hero”, no matter how many years have passed, you still have such flexible skin and black and white eyes, never getting old. Recently, an extreme sportsman died when the parachute broke out in the Grand Canyon. However, he can enjoy the freedom of flight at the last moment of his life. This kind of death is quite beautiful; yours is the same. (I don’t know if this is a big disrespect to the deceased)
I am very embarrassed to admit that I have only read a book of you completely. The “plague”, “Sisyphus myth” and “resistance” have only read a few chapters. It is really inappropriate to finish reading. However, “outsiders” is like a turning point in my life. Life has become strong since I met it. It seems that the time and meaning contained in a second suddenly increased a lot. Other than that, I didn’t really read any book. Other books, no matter the famous novels or online novels, seem to know the plot, understand the theme, and experience the emotions and inner twists and turns of the characters, but there is always a layer of window paper that is not broken. I am not them, they are not me. No resonance, no understanding, just like communicating in a foreign land with a foreigner’s words; if you meet, you are over. Only you, only the inseparable and familiar tone, Melso’s tone, permeated every second after each time, became the background sound of my life.
When I saw it two years ago, I didn’t have any special feelings. I only thought that the usual novels were not the same. Until the foreign teachers gave out “existentialism” and “absurdty”, I gradually began to understand the mood of Melsoe and the novel. At that time, I couldn’t understand how people could still insist on creating meaning when they knew that life was meaningless. This is the same self-deception as public opinion, and it is a pretext for a worldview methodology in order to survive. I have not fully understood the meaning until now, but I think that the external universal meaning of life may not exist, there is no universal value system, and our meaning may be that we find it in our own way. With a different meaning of personality. Of course, these are all words. At that time, although I could not understand existentialism, I felt the ridiculous experience of Merso’s experience every minute.
The mother died, the elderly in the mourning hall and the nursing home watched the night, and the woman began to have a dispensable relationship, helping the neighbors, listening to the neighbors and the dog quarreling, going to the beach, killing the Arabs, these things are like movies, Mersault After that, there is a reaction, then it doesn’t matter. For him, nothing does not matter, because, as he said in the last chapter, he has long felt that everything is meaningless. The priest tried to preach to him and save his “confusing soul”, but he finally, unprecedentedly, was completely irritated. He said that he knows the situation better than the pastor, and the pastor refuses to accept the fact that God does not exist, but he knew from the beginning that everything that happened was not important. He knows that he will die someday, and that death will last forever in every day in the future, making all the trivial things that happen today become ridiculous, and he does not care. I am like this, or what kind of relationship, what is the relationship? I like Mary, or a small-eyed woman like another robot, what does it matter? As he approached the guillotine step by step, he began to long for life, even eager for more than twenty years of meaningless, and began to miss Mary. . . Finally, his helpless fear and long-suppressed anger against life finally vented to the pastor on this page.
Because it is about to be lost soon, it is better to devote some of your own emotions, so that you will not be blinded by the colorful appearance of life, but you can always see the hollow inside it. He made himself not care about these forms; he succeeded. So he didn’t grieve for his mother’s death, he was not happy because of Mary’s enthusiasm for him, but he was embarrassed and upset about the strong emotions of his neighbors. He did not hide his indifferent feelings from others in court. But in the end, he suddenly understood why the mother chose to start a relationship in the nursing home and live again. “So close to death, she must have felt a relief.” That’s right. When life is running low and there is not much time, the shadow of death can’t stop him from seeing the future. “He opened his heart to this indifferent world for the first time.” “Discovering the world is as friendly as he is.” “He wants people to yell when they execute the death penalty.” He hopes that people will not close themselves as he did before, and that they will not feel life because of death.
When I wrote these two paragraphs, I clearly found that I was writing myself. No matter how much I have ever feared becoming Mersor, I still find that I inevitably become him. For many years, I have lived like a mirror in the world, knowing how to like people; once again degrading my emotions, so that I saw that romance novels don’t feel love, but strong human stupidity and irrationality. Disgusted and disdainful. Do you like it? It is simply anecdote. What about together? Sooner or later, they will break up. All the happiness will eventually turn into a tearful nose, and it will be too late to regret it. Only by closing your heart early will you be relieved of the grief of the bones.
The meaning of Meurso to me, or my fear of becoming Melso, further influenced me. I clearly see that if I let myself be so closed, I will despise the emotional fluctuations of others, and even if I sail around me, I can only feel apathy and disrepair, and my dissatisfaction with her, I will It becomes such a monster that even the murder is not afraid. I don’t want to be Melso. There is no happiness in his life. There is no sorrow. If he didn’t kill someone, he might not live in this way for a lifetime. If he was not sentenced to death, he would always start. Not new. I do not like this.
I can’t help but think of a movie, “Cleavage”, quoted you at the beginning: “I am so far away from my soul, and my existence is so real.” The actor is an outsider, only a contemporary teacher at school. Don’t want to have too much contact with others. A little girl who had already abandoned herself needed his help, but he sent her to a child adoption center. But at school, another little girl didn’t care because she didn’t care, especially when he pushed her away, and then she committed suicide. In the end, he finally realized that he had been so evasive and always let go, only bringing more pain and not getting peace of mind. So he brought the first little girl back. I always feel that this book is inextricably similar to the outsider. Think of it this way, it seems that the attraction of Sherlock is also how Holmes has become a flesh-and-blood person from the complete lack of understanding of human conditions and under the care of Watson.
Why did Mersau scare me for a long time? It seems that every time I become as numb and indifferent as him, I feel so uncomfortable. I think you may understand this feeling. After all, Mersault uses your voice. I am now trying to gain deep inner feelings, not ordinary ordinary fluctuations, but like the death penalty can awaken the heart, like Huasheng to the blessing. Sometimes you can watch a movie; sometimes you can read a book; but you never have a life. Death is still far away, I have not been free from boring and meaningless. But I want to live and want to come out of the isolated island. If there is a tough bridge that can span the ocean, it won’t be eroded by distance and time; if I can break through the middle barriers of the ocean.
But Mersault has given me a revelation, telling me that I can’t close it anymore. At least on this point, I am grateful to you. For me, you are not a famous writer, not a beacon of people during World War II, or even a complete philosopher. You are reflected in your book, from the preface to the debut of the debut. It can be seen that it is a warm person. Although knowing that life is meaningless, it can also make it make such a powerful cry, wake up and awaken others.
I originally wanted to stop here, but if I look at the number of words is not enough, I will write a few more words. I don’t know if you can really see this, I will not look for understanding and help in such a wishful way. No, certainly not. I will carefully study each and every work you write. On the basis of certain theory and thinking, I will praise you with courtesy and enthusiasm, and put forward some of my “in-depth and unique” opinions, and then express to you. Thanks for saving me. That is the way I will use as a “Merso” – repeatedly recognizing whether I am decent, speculating on each other’s thoughts, and then responding to life rationally and confidently. But I don’t want to be like this; I envy Lolita to express my feelings to the unsuitable man without hesitation, and the little girl who admires “The detachment” can approach the man once again if she is rejected. I am doing it myself, maybe I can only open it.
That being the case, then I want to sincerely praise you for being beautiful. I never thought that a writer / philosopher could grow so handsome and always thought that he had a bloated body and a violent hairstyle like Mo Yan or Schopenhauer. But you, forty years old, thin body, big dark circles, gentle inverted triangle eyes tilting downwards, the characteristics of romanticism, and your calm and elegant writing tone, reflected in the plague and outsiders The kind of talent, and the unique thinking about suicide and resistance, have reached all my requirements for [ideal soul mate], not to mention I think you can really understand me. So originally this letter, I want to write a love letter like Lolita.
Unfortunately, I don’t have the courage of Lolita, and you haven’t lived for a hundred years.