Quietly, just so quietly, as if the naked eye could see that the quiet breath rippled in the classroom, and a similar trajectory rippled deep in my heart.
Henry slowly opened his eyes, those deep eyes lowered his gaze, focused on a focus on the ground, his clear and bright eyes seemed to be caught in his own deep thoughts, but after a careful search, he found that The focus was fainting, as if deep in the eyes, a skyscraper was slowly disintegrating and turning into dust. The whole process was slowed down by a hundred times, and even the trajectory of a dust flight was clearly visible. , that kind of grandeur, that kind of destruction, has a kind of unreasonable beauty.
Then he raised his head, and the scattered focus re-gathered little by little, as if time were reversing, the collapsed building returned to its original state, and the sights that were on the students gathered again one by one, falling down. deep in his pupils. That hazy vague feeling has regained clarity again, but hidden in the depths of clarity, it is a sadness that cannot be dissolved, not sharp, but heavy enough.
"When I walked through the promenade and you were in class..." Henry said without warning, but stopped without warning. It seemed that he fell into his own contemplation for a split second. His calm voice was slow and slow, and a short hoarse sound was dragged between words. The corners of his mouth even rose slightly, but the smile still couldn't erase the sadness that melted into the blood, and it was a bit mocking. , some ridiculed, some helpless, "How many of you... have ever felt the weight pressed against your chest?"
Henry raised his left hand and gestured at the position of his chest. He didn't press it down. There was still a distance in the middle, but this little gap seemed to be heavy, pressing down on his chest so tightly that he couldn't even breathe. But come. The taut fingertips were trembling slightly, and the slender fingers and the back of the broad hand were almost transparent and pale, and the hideous but weak blood vessels could be seen meandering.
A simple sentence, but it makes people's nose start to feel sour for no reason.
Half a second, a second. After a pause, Henry raised his left hand, "I felt it."
Those short words had the power of thunder, like a boulder that sank to the bottom of the sea. The water didn't seem to splash much, but the weight accumulated the pressure little by little, pressing down firmly.
Someone raised his right hand. The first, the second... The fifth, the sixth... Gradually, more and more arms are raised, until everyone has completed the action of raising their hands.
The corners of the slightly raised mouth were further outlined, the drooping eyes revealed a hint of teasing, and a sigh of relief appeared, as if mocking himself, and seemed to be joking, "Everyone?" Then the smile fell on the bottom of his eyes and quickly dissipated. , turned into a deep sadness, and the lonely loneliness fainted, like a deep blue pool, cold and calm, but bottomless.
One word, two words, collided between Henry's lips and teeth, but it had an indescribable charm, and the abundant emotions curled up after the condensed coda.
"Earling Poe wrote about this situation more than a hundred years ago." Henry put down his left hand and returned to the subject again. The subject of today's class, he leaned back, as if the weight of his body could no longer hold. Persevering, I can only sit on the podium, relying on the heavy weight that almost crushes my shoulders, then pick up the poetry collection on the podium, wave it casually to the students, and indicate: This is Edgar Allan Poe's poetry collection.
Then he lowered his head, stroked the cover of the poetry collection with the fingertips of his left hand, and carefully felt the lines of the book. It seemed that the lines could be traced back to the poet's thoughts, and said softly, "With reading, we can It turns out that the House of Usher is not just an old, decaying, renovated castle, but a reflection of the bleakness of the world."
The aftertaste is lingering and meaningful.
He raised his head again, and his eyes fell on the tender faces in front of him: the numb and stiff cold color had gradually faded away, but there was dazedness and confusion hidden in it. Out of focus, the panic and fear hidden in the depths of his eyes were still unable to arouse changes in his expression, as if shrouded in a hazy halo, forming a boundless sea of suffering.
His gaze finally fell on the empty seat on the right. It was Meredith's seat, with the red plastic chair back, she always raised her head eagerly and eagerly, focused on his class, answered every question proactively, and then showed a shy and bright smile .
Her plea for help that day flashed through her mind, "I can't hold on," she said. So, she gave up.
The pupils flickered slightly, Henry lowered his eyes, his calm face was like an empty valley, barren and lonely, lifeless, the sparse sunlight fell, the wind whistled, and a colorful rainbow was outlined on the sky after the rain. The light was quiet and distant, but inexplicably made his eyes redden, which was indescribable.
"In the autumn of that year, on a long, dull, gray and silent day, heavy clouds hung low in the sky..." Henry recited softly, the wonderful syllables stepping on a moving rhythm, like dancing between the staves The musical symbol, composed a melodious flute sound, circling and turning in the silence, every word is so clear, every word is so deep, lightly and profoundly tapped under the eardrum, Bang, Bang Bang , stirred a slight wave in the heart lake.
"I rode alone through this gloomy, exotic country land, and finally, as night fell slowly, the cold view of Usher House unfolded before my eyes."
The clear voice did not have any sadness or heaviness, and it was like a curling green smoke lingering in the heart, a majestic picture was spread out in Henry's voice, and the raging and dilapidated scene involuntarily appeared in his mind. , as if riding a horse forward, strolling on the edge of the wet swamp, the desolate and decadent outline of Usher's House gradually emerged from behind the mist.
His eyes fell on Henry's body involuntarily. He held Edgar Allan Poe's poems in his right hand, but did not open it. His left hand was supported on the podium. Like a mist in the mountains. The bumps that have gone through the vicissitudes of life, the loneliness that has been weathered, the lonely loneliness, the grief-stricken daze... Like poetry, picturesque, like songs, people can't help but calm down, quietly, earnestly, devoutly, and focused ground, watching the world collapse.
"I've never seen it as it used to be, but just from just a glimpse, an unbearable gloom saturates my heart."
The beauty and moving of poetry are often incomprehensible to people. The use of words, the brewing of artistic conception, the foreshadowing of deep meaning, the choice of words and sentences are often gorgeous and beautiful, but the philosophical thinking and artistic decoration make people confused. inside. However, the poetry burst out from the collision between Henry's lips and teeth. It is so vivid and vivid that people really feel the coldness and melancholy hidden in the depths of the poetry, as if seeing the House of Usher through Edgar Allan Poe's eyes of collapse.
"I looked at the sparse landscape around the mansion, the walls were barren, the decaying trees were white all over, my soul was speechless, my heart was cooling, sinking, and showing weakness and sickness."
Henry's voice paused for a moment, and he quietly looked at the classroom in front of him, letting the residual lingering lingering smoke in the air. Those deep eyes were calm, as if permeating the humid and cold London winter, layer upon layer. The gloom and sadness slowly settled down, and then, Na Ying's slender eyebrows stretched out, and a faint glimmer of light penetrated into the narrow eyes. Gotta be firm.
Sadness remains; hope grows.
That gleam of light seems to be swallowed up by the darkness at any time, and is struggling to be freed from it. The bottomless eyes are like the vast ocean, and like the vast sky, the light of hope, weak but firm.
The focus of sight gradually became far, farther, farther and farther, and in a trance, the entire classroom began to grow bigger and bigger, and finally covered the whole world.
"Card!"
Tony's voice broke the silence and quietness of the crew, but this time it failed to lift the seal of the studio, and the silent death was still spreading.
Everyone in the crew, including Tony himself, looked at Renly carefully, and slowly reminisced about their own thoughts and ruminations. That gentle and tenacious performance has a powerful force, like a calm wave. It seems soft, but it is enough to destroy everything. There is no ups and downs, no stormy waves, and even no trace of performance, but it expresses the mixed and profound emotions. Incisively and vividly, burst out a colorful chemical reaction.
Yi Que Poetry, a collection of Gothic poems from Allen Poe, is esoteric, obscure and profound, but it threw a heavy weight in everyone's mind, setting off wave after wave of emotional frenzy, making people unable to extricate themselves. . The power of poetry and the energy of art are clearly and directly transmitted to the depths of the soul of every audience at this moment.
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Relying only on lines, eyes, and rhythm, it brings the deep meaning behind the story to the peak. In an understatement, it shows the vicissitudes of life in a firm and awe-inspiring manner, revealing infinite possibilities. It also showed infinite deep meaning, leaving an unknown future, which has become a subject for the audience to think about.
This scene is even more difficult than the original bus scene, the emotions are more complex, and the performance is more concise; but the shock brought by Renly is more turbulent, the reflection is more profound, and the aftertaste is more distant.
Performance, this is the real performance, the so-called peak of performance, probably tells about this state.