[Masterpiece Les Miserables] Paris Sparks

Like a sudden thunder in the silent night, Corona trembled almost uncontrollably. "You want me to fight?" she asked, almost in disbelief. "You think I should fight, fight?"

"Of course." Enjolras said, his tone and expression revealed a natural meaning, "If you don't want to marry the same person, of course you have the right not to marry, this is the freedom everyone should have. This If there are any conditions attached to this kind of freedom, such as making you must learn to paint, or you must give up painting, it should not be."

—No one has ever said such a thing to her.

Even Katon, even Katon, never encouraged her.He never asked her to give up anything, and he condoned her idea of ​​not getting married, but Corona knew in her heart that her father still hoped that she could learn housework, piano, and flower arrangement like Lucy and little Lucy. Find a husband and spend a plain and happy life that belongs to a woman. For the first time in 15 years, someone told her that she had rights, that she had freedom, and that she should fight for it.

Intellectually, Corona knows that this is because neither Combeferre nor Enjolras knows her real identity, and if they knew she was a woman, maybe they would change their story.But that didn't stop her heart from pounding, nearly bursting through her chest; her cheeks were flushed, her fingers trembling, her blood was almost boiling in her veins, and she felt as if she had been suppressed years ago, since she interrupted her fencing lessons The enthusiasm that had been going down suddenly came to life, burning blazingly in her body.It took her a lot of effort to control her voice so that it didn't reveal a feminine tone. "You were the first person to support my revolt, sir - I cannot express what it means to me. Thank you."

"I just expressed my opinion," Enjolras said.

"It's not an easy thing to oppose one's own family. How to decide depends on your choice." Gongbefei added with a smile.

"No matter what, I have to thank you." Corona bowed slightly to them solemnly, "but to be honest, your suggestion confuses me. My teacher has always believed that the highest pursuit of art should be to depict beauty. And You say it as if you want to make art a weapon."

"Why can't art be a weapon?" Enjolras asked rhetorically, "I'm afraid your teacher and I have the opposite view. I think being a weapon is probably the highest value of art. Between a person's life and a painting, I will Choose human life. If you can inspire people’s thinking and expose the atrocities of the imperial power in the form of art, whether it is painting, writing or drama, isn’t it much better than a beautiful but empty landscape painting?”

"Art cannot be simply divided into two categories, 'weapon' and 'useless', Enjolras, I think that is not appropriate." Combeferre interjected, "beauty has its own value The existence of beauty is a kind of edification and education for the soul. If the people only know how to fight and how to resist, but do not know how to appreciate the beauty of the world and how to build a peaceful homeland, then the violent mistakes they have committed will be repeated again and again. Repeat, that is not our purpose. Fighting is only a means, and it is a means that can only be adopted when there is a last resort, and peace is the ultimate goal to be achieved."

"You're right, what I just said was not rigorous." Enjolras apologized bluntly, "But if we can't even break through the current predicament, real peace will never be in sight. Look at those people in the factory People who work seventeen hours a day, look at those children wandering the streets, do they have the opportunity to go to the gallery to appreciate those calm and beautiful oil paintings, to receive the so-called beauty education? There are priorities, Combeferre. "

They've clearly been close friends for years, and the conversation quickly turns into a back-and-forth discussion between the two.This topic was started by Corona, and at this moment she seemed to have become a bystander—but she didn't watch for too long.After chatting for a while, Combeferre turned suddenly to Corona again. "Neither Enjolras nor I have really learned painting, but just borrowed some other people's theories from books. Cole, how do you view art? Do you have the same view as your teacher?"

"The two gentlemen just refuted my previous ideas in front of me, and they came to ask me this question again, so I can only say that I'm afraid I won't be able to answer it for a while." Corona replied half-jokingly, "But your The discussion really inspired me, and I also hope that maybe one day, I will be able to find my own answer to art."

"I am looking forward to your answer. It is a pity that Combeferre and I are leaving Paris tomorrow morning," said Enjolras.

"If you don't mind, I will leave you my mailing address. You are welcome to write to me." Gongbefei suddenly smiled and suggested, "Although I may not be able to help you, I assure you that I am good at listening and secrecy."

"I thank you for your kindness." Corona asked half gratefully, half defensively, "But, please forgive my suspicion and offense, why are you so enthusiastic about me?"

Combeferre did not answer at once, but glanced at Enjolras with a smile.Corona looked over in bewilderment, and she was surprised to see that Enjolras, who had always been serious and solemn, had a slightly softened expression at the moment.

"We - Enjolras and I - have both encountered similar situations. Some things that we think are unjust and unreasonable and should be resisted and overturned are taken for granted in the eyes of everyone around us and will remain unchanged for a long time. Yes. What we wanted to pursue turned out to be whimsical in the eyes of our family and friends. This continued until Enjolras and I really got to know each other and really understood each other's aspirations. Since you are troubled by the same thing now, if It is also a great blessing for us to be able to help you."

"I thank you for your nobility." Corona said, with indescribable joy in her heart.

When she got home that day, before she had time to change into her men's clothes, she sat at the desk, read and reread the page with the address and name on it, then carefully tore it off the edge of the book, looked around, Caught in a book that I usually read every day.

No, she reads this book often, what if she accidentally drops this piece of paper while turning the pages of the book?She took it out, squatted down to open a hidden compartment on the wall, took out a clip from it, and put it together with various land deeds and bills.When she was about to close the hidden compartment, she hesitated again: Because these land deeds and bills are expensive, they are always carefully stored and will not be used easily.Does she have to open a secret box every time she writes a letter?So what's the matter?Besides, what would he think if his father wanted to check the receipt but found this piece of paper with the address on it, would it cause him to misunderstand?

In fact, she had already memorized Gongbeferre's address by heart, so even if this note were thrown away at this moment, it would have no effect.But for the first time, she had a friend who really supported her ideas, and she couldn't help being ecstatic and worried about gains and losses.She closed the hidden compartment, turned around the room a few times, and finally placed it safely in the mezzanine of the painting box.

Then she changed her clothes, put on her apron, stood in front of the canvas, and made the first stroke.

She hardly thought about it, let alone hesitated. She did not carefully draw a draft on the canvas, but almost instinctively painted a large area of ​​background color, as if this picture had always existed in her heart. The mood gushes out.What she painted was a meadow. On the left side of the picture, a brown steed was galloping. The female equestrian on its back lowered her body slightly, and the strands of blond hair exposed under the coat and hat were blown high by the wind. Float backwards.There are no complicated and gorgeous lace and lace on her clothes, and there are no feathers or jewelry on her hat. Only a few small flowers on the brim of the hat and a soft and feminine face reveal her identity.Riding on the galloping horse, she was neither frightened nor flustered, and only had the same joy on her face as many knights.

This is not a picture that really existed. Corona learned to ride a horse when she was a child, and she learned it in a boy's dress. Later, she never galloped a horse in a woman's dress, and a lady who dared to gallop a horse like her, I'm afraid Very few.But when she started to draw the lines of the horse's body, the figure's fluttering cloak and the vast pasture, she no longer felt the restlessness and boredom that often surrounded her these days.She felt happy and relaxed, just like she boldly let the horse run for the first time, and heard the whirring wind passing by her ears; like every time she picked up a paintbrush when she was a child, she saw different color blocks taking shape under the brush .

No, she doesn't think art is to be used as a weapon.However, if resistance is prohibited, what vitality does art have?

Two weeks later, she brought the completed painting to Basil, and Basil stood in front of the painting, silent for a long time.

He didn't criticize anymore, didn't say anything, just sighed deeply, and then nodded.

The author has something to say: If anyone is still reading this book, I'm back...

Today is also a day when I was hurt by Avengers IV x