The static birch forest prologue in the opening chapter lasted for a few minutes, almost rubbing off all my patience, and even generating a resentment of "David Lean is doing something". However, only ten minutes after the official start of the story, the master of classicalism very cleverly told me to shut my mouth.
It was the world seen through the eyes of young Yuri. In the desolate cemetery, the flying flowers withered like two leaves of Baluo, and everyone's expressions are gloomy and painful. Then one night in the monastery, the wind was moaning, the snow was crying, pushing the branches and knocking on the window glass, every time, it was as ugly as the dry hands of an old witch. Zhivago's upcoming life. The blizzard of the times came with a radical attitude, subverting the social form of Russia, and also subverting Zhivago; and he was doomed to be powerless.
So, he once had Laura, but he also lost her at the end.
Laura, the blue-eyed Laura, his muse, his spiritual solace in the turbid world.
Zhivago's eyes are warm and his mind is soft. Even in the eventful times of Siberia, where the tsarist regime and the Red Soviets were alternately turbulent, the small window grilles on the glass could make him laugh silently. The tulips were full of fields, pulling out the fragrance of the sun, Zhivago met Laura again, even though suffering and fear had tortured his faith countless times, the unavoidable love came overwhelmingly, With real and unrestrained heat; the country castle overturned by ice and snow, the twilight even buried the lines of the willow branches, the wild howls of wolves, the fire in the house quietly burning, reflecting the lovers who are in love. In troubled times, there is nothing more complete than this moment.
Even at that time, Zhivago already had Tonya. The Tonia in every Russian novel, the dignified, stubborn, empathetic Tonia. A steadfast wife, and a pure and gentle lover, Zhivago turned around several times, and in the end, he fell on the way to chase Laura. There was no sign of tragedy, after all, the sun was smiling so brightly, she was wearing an old-fashioned tight dress, her face was already old, and he knocked on the window of the tram to get her attention. Obviously they are so close, so close to the past that they can be caught by turning around, they should be like those lovers who have been reunited for a long time, kissing gently, even a little affectionate. But he fell. In the war, Zhivago, who was tortured and miserable, though tired and lonely, never stopped his stubbornness and his hopes for a better life; however, when the political plague passed, he fell on the street without a trace of haze, It was too late to let out a cry.
David Lean used his romantic feelings to restore a gorgeous and delicate love. Even if he was criticized for weakening the political elements of the original work, it belongs to the original author Pasternak's meaningful emotions, suppressing the image. , surging slowly.
The vast and pale Russian continent, the humble self-respect, hope, love that has always been insisted on, is an epic that belongs to one person.
At this time, Pasternak was Zhivago; David Lean was also Zhivago.
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