Wednesday, April 18, 2007

Jane Eyre

The publishing of an amazing book used to stirring the world literary. Its unbelievable sense of beauty attracts thousands of readers, which gives us an impulsion to read and then be deeply indulged in it. The first time I read the book was only because of a wonder: How good is an author who has written only one book? After reading, I ate my words.

This is an autobiographical story about a girl named Jane Eyre, who was orphaned and lived a miserable life at her uncle’s home. Her aunt shipped her off to a school for underprivileged children. She grew up there in tough time and then went to work as a governess under a mysterious man, Mr. Rochester. Like the heroines in other books, she fell in love with him, unaware of the dark secret that posed threats to destroy their relationship. Finally, she chose to leave and started her journey through which she discovered love, betrayal, loneliness, poverty and friendship. Yet, love survives. Though the condition changed a lot with time passed, they lived together forever.

She is simple, yet sensible with great spirit, sharp wit and a sense of honor which help her through hard times. During those hard times, she threw away the recreance and effeminacy which were born with the females and gradually to be independent. She was not willing to be hurt when her brothers roughed her up, but to fight for herself. Even though the result was unsatisfied, she never gave up. In Lowood, though the inhumane Mr. Brocklehurst attempted to denigrate her, she was not fear but survived bravely. Reading the book, I can’t help admiring her attitude towards the upper-class people and the insistence of what she believes. Her spirit towards the man she loved with self-worth and self-respect, her behavior towards difficulties and the tough were attracting my attention. How many women nowadays dare to say “no” to the men whom they love with good qualifications just because of self-respect? Jane could do so. Sparkle was always inside her inner heart and her character.

“……Do you think, because I am poor, obscure, plain, and little, I am soulless and heartless? You think wrong! – I have as much soul as you, -- and full as much heart! And if God had gifted me with some beauty and much wealth, I should have made it as hard for you to leave me, as it is now for me to you……it is my spirit that addresses your spirit; just as if both had passed through the grave, and we stood as God’s feet, equal, ---as we are!” Every time when I read the book, I am passionate by this sentence. Just like what Edward said, Jane, “like a wild, frantic bird that is rending its own plumage in its desperation”. It is a kind of release, in a most fierce way; a kind of mixture of love and sorrow; a kind of power with its control, conquer, overwhelming everything in the world. She whooped to the world by her words and action: She has the right to pursue a love for herself. Men and women are equal. Only those women with independent character, self-respect, self-love, not depending on others, could be respected and could find the real happiness and peace. Love is based on equality and independence. In other words, the amount paid and that of accepted should be the same. If Jane chooses to stay as an illegal and inamorata like wife, can Mr. Rochester be possible to remember her till the end of his life? He loved Jane because she was emulative for her own right, independent, self-approval and would never give up. She was not the one who was held to his bosom and no her own ideology! Jane was the closest standard for the women from generation to generation. She was friendly and touchable. Learning from her, everyone could live with confidence and magnanimous; and that everyone could find the real blessedness along the clue of destiny.

In the modern time, people are crazy for money and status. They choose wealthy from fortune and poverty; they choose to be loveless; they choose to cheat others but not telling the truth. Only few are willing to abandon everything because of dignity without hesitation, like Jane Eyre. Only when people are as “poor” as losing everything except money will they pursue “true love”. However, with the spirit dipping in different value systems, could true love be found? It is time for us to reverse to where we begin. When we pursue the loaves and fishes, we should add warmth, and we should not forget the pure harmony and catholicity. Let us start doing something with all our hearts, without care of what we could receive. Let us simplify our emotions, be just as purify as water, slowing down to the world.

Try to escape from the blatant world, choosing a late night, reading the book by heart and talking to Jane Eyre. It is just like a fairy tale which let us believe as long as we have the independent character, self-respect, self-worthy, confidence. Even a wild flower can be pride and has a permanent spring belong to its own.

Monday, April 16, 2007

The Truth

Painful silence pervaded in the air and it seems like eternity. He dares not to see his wife's sad blue eyes and a sense of guilty permeating his blood. She is so gentle, so selfless, so hardworking, and so kindhearted. She seems to be so perfect to every man except her appearance----no one likes to mention----which he can't bear at such status, and that is also the reason propels him to talk to her, though he has a bone in his throat.

He was born in a poor condition, no money, no status, no target. It can be said that his life was blank until he met her. She was so smart that encouraged him to set up his ambition; so hardworking that help him to pursue his dream; so feminine that take care about all his daily life; so kind that she was willing to listen to he when he met difficulty; so understandable that gave him the strongest confidence, though she had a terrible face which was a nightmare to others and a hair that seems mess-up all the time. She was the light in his dark and unassisted life, through that period of time, her company was an enormous comfort. Now, man's business is in great progress, he receives all what he wants: fortune, reputation, status''but he has something doesn't want his copartners to know---- he has an ugly wife----though he has to admit that the success is owed to her. She also knows it, but every time he promises that he does not care. As the time goes by, he finds that it is more and more difficult to bring his wife out and more and more difficult to ignore her appearance. Why can't I have a beautiful wife? Why I must live with her? He knows that one careless move loses the whole game, but he has to do.

He looks at the view of her back, contemplating. She is doing her housework, that's her habit, washing the window, sweeping the floor and then renews the table cloth. After doing that, she always sitting next to the window and looking outside, which scene leads his memory back to the every night he talks to her. She usually listens carefully, sometimes gives him a smile to encourage him to continue, and after he finished, she always said: 'I will follow you forever.? Simple words, but it is deceptive to say that he doesn't move. Things never change if nothing does, he reviews the conversation he had practiced many times in front of the mirror, then walks straight to his wife.
"Susan, I have something to talk to you."
"Yes?"
"En...the thing is ...en...that is..you know..en...now I have many social intercourses...so I want a more ...experienced partner.....you can understand, right?"
"You can have one assistant if you need, is that a problem?"
"No, I don't mean that''a partner''for long time...so..." he speaks in a choking voice.
"I don't know if I misunderstand, do you mean that you want to divorce?" After a few minutes' still, she asked, in unbelievable calmness as if she knew the day would come early on.
A stuffy feeling grasps him, he can't help but avoiding eye contact with her.
''because of my appearance''right? Tell me the truth.' '
''yes." As if experienced a couple of years, he finally says.
"...OK, but I have a requirement: give me 50 thousand yuan."
He can't believe the result comes out so easy and he knows what he never lacks of is money. 'No problem.? He replies without hesitation. Next day, they divorced, and the woman disappears from his sight.

Not long after that, man gets married again. His new wife is an extremely beautiful woman. She is not tall, or rather, is a bit shorter, and with brown crimp reaches her shoulders and blue eyes twinkled with joy and confidence. The harmony of her face is not diminished by her a little bit imperfect nose, on the contrary, makes her more charming. He is proud when he takes her out, receiving the praise from others and is envious by the admirers. Though she sometimes has a bad temper, but it is the particular right for beauties. What he really cares is the blue eyes---filled with love almost the same as his ex-wife---always call to the remembrance of his.
His new wife is like a Pandora's Box, full of surprising. He finds that she has an exquisite small box which always be locked. Though he has asked her many times about the things kept in it, she just smiling but says nothing. He finds that his new wife likes sitting next to the window and looking out of the window. He finds his new wife give him a sense of similarity, not only her behavior and voice but also the character, which arouses his untellable past. Too much similarity let him discomposed, it just a coincidence. He thinks and believes all the while.

As vivid saying goes: 'mischance is always behind the happiness.? He never dreamed that she would be dead 2 years later from a cancer in her live, even has no time tasting the happiness he is filled to the brim with. Sitting in the empty house, he tastes the bitter and all the sorrow which he hided for a long time flooding out of his inner heart. Then he remembers the day before his wife died.
Sitting on the bed, his voice began to falter at the mention of his sufferings in the old days. She listened carefully and quietly, and said little words when they were both in a silence. Finally, he finished, as a heavy stone which was in his heart had been disappeared forever. 'I never forget her, I try to find her and say sorry to her, but no good news came''though it may be too late, but I still want her knows that there is always a position in my hear for her?'I don't want to discomfort you, really..? After saying this, he turned to her slowly, no blame, no anger, only the tears filled in her eyes. 'I will follow you forever.? She said. At that time he can swear that he saw the shadow of ex-wife clearly.

She died, leaving him the memory of theirs and a small key. Suddenly something flashing back into his mind, he stands up and walks towards the bedroom, stopping in front of a drawer. Slowly, he brings out an exquisite small box in it. Hesitating for a few second, he opens it. His blood is frozen
-----It's a hospital case contains the every cosmetic surgery she did, totally used 50 thousand yuan.

Monday, February 26, 2007

ANTIQUE SHOP

Antique shop always gives us special fascination, but at the same time, it is seems a forbidden place to great many people. Usually, it's very rare to see an antique shop in the street, so it always gives us a sense of mystery when we think about it, but at the same time, it certainly appeals to many special people --- including me.

By accident, I drop into an antique shop. I remembered it was a rainy night, a faint smell pervaded the air, dark cloud covered the ground, and everything was ambiguous. The flurry knocked against the tiles, which made a torturous noise like the whimper of a little child echoing in the night. The street was painfully quiet, as if everything were sleeping deeply. Street lamps, which lined both sides the street, stretched their shadows in the dingy light. At the end of the street, on the corner, was an antique shop, the only one shop not closed at this time. No one would notice such a small shop in the daytime, but now, on one would ignore it in such awful weather. The first feeling when I saw it was 'cold'the temperature seemed to decrease gradually companied by every step closer to the shop. With copper exterior, the shop was in its own labyrinth of musty, surrounded by inexpressible obscuration. Two gargoyles made of iron inhabited the rooftop, their green eyes sparkled in the darkness, which made them seem real and gave me the illusion that they were staring at me. In front of the shop was a huge gate, exposed in the heavy rain, its eerie smell lured me, at that moment I thought it must be led a way straight to hell.
When I enter the shop, the first thing reflected into my eyes was a massive dark curtain, as if a fall almost covered the whole window, only an interstice led a faint light past through it and left a threadlike shadow on the ground. All rare objections including some old glasses, books, maps, and some scattered, small and insignificant subjects were beautifully displayed in translucent glass case in front of the curtain. In the middle displayed two glasses, which were no longer as translucent as they used to, you could see the dust clung to their surfaces, some gloomy cracks occurred here and there. They lay on the black velvet cushion undisturbed as if they had stood aloof from the worldly affairs. On their right hand side laying an old book having pure white cover, in the centre of which was a small, red candle, and a handwrite title just right under the candle. Though the writing on it now was illegible, pages were turned to yellow and the book was leaving a leprous dark spot undersurface, it still kept its own secret in such place.

On the left side of the glass case was a wall that was draped with many old painters, in many different styles, but most of them described the scene of great events which happened in ancient times. The biggest one among the plant of painters was the scene that Napoleon ascended the throng. It could be a bright painter many years before, but now the printing ink was peeling away, probably as a result of prolong exposure to the unclean environment. The scraping odor, though it experienced an uncountable days and nights, still distinct on the painter which gave me a imagination that the owner of it was a moody man and this was the evidence of his abreaction.

On the right of the glass case was an old bell. It attracted almost everyone who came here. The bell is in traditional style, with a half-moon vault, really like which we would see in the chronicle
play. It was showing its specific metallic exterior as the clock face reflected the gloomy light in the shop. Only the swing of the pendulum could be heard, steady and rhythmical. The tolling of bell between whiles seemed to remind people of the time passed by, as a premonition that the magic would wear away. Along with the swing of the pendulum, a kind of unspeakable slumberous grasp me. Everything at this time seemed unreal, what I was sure about was the strange feeling that I had been here very long time before. I even could smell the sodden grass mixed with the fresh soil in the desolate place, I even could feel the unforgettable coldness the bell gets cross, I even could hear the crowd people together uproariously, I even could taste the bitter that the bell experienced in long historic river, I even could see I am in front of the ancient church and pray with many others?..The bell had a supernatural power that let everyone forget all the trouble they had met.

As I looked around the shop, I hardly noticed that there was a slight sound closing toward me, it was heard like footsteps. The shop that reflect the noise of footsteps absolutely, then it stopped. I turned round tardily, then my heart leaped into my throat......

Saturday, February 3, 2007

No title

That’s all happened in a moment, no one believed what happened, but that’s the truth. One woman, who was in a black drill suite and took a black bag on her right shoulder, standing in front of a church. She was not tall, with yellow short hair, and a little bit fat figure. She put her right hand on her mouth, pop-eyed seemed too taken aback even to say a word. On her left hand side, closely standing a women, who was also astound about what was happened. She was one-head taller than the yellow hair woman, long black hair with two mental earrings on her ears. She had a wheat color skin, wearing a whit sleeveless sweater and a rose pink skirt, with a pink handbag on her left shoulder. Her left arm was raising front toward as if she had pointed something in front of her. Behind the two women, a young man stood aghast. He was a little black, with small eyes and thick whisker. He wore a gray color hat and sports shirt with the same color. A big black backpack was worn on his back. His left hand also put on his mouth, seemed unbelievable. There were other people standing behind, all were knocked back.

Saturday, January 20, 2007

Anna and her CS class

When I first recognize that this semester I have to take CS class, my world is circumrotating. For other people it may be very easy, but not for me.
When I was young, I was really interested in computer ( though at that time computer was not notrifeness), so I was glad that I had my own computer at my 11th birthday. And then trouble came. I did't know what I do, but the computer would always be broken down within a week after I used it, or rather, not just computer, but every kind of application in my home. People always felt amazing with my special diathesis. So I had a second name "machine killer". For that reason, the best friends of my family are almost working in the computer company, three of five times they visit our home was helping me to repair my computer.In a word, I have a unbelievable poor sense of computer, and I will be cheerful if I pass the class smoothly and sucessfully.