I remember which old magazine or newspaper published a story, which is said to be a real story. It was said that there was a man—let's call him Wakefield—and ran away from home for many years. It's not uncommon to talk about this kind of thing in such an abstract manner, and without considering its special circumstances, it cannot be accused or denounced as nonsense or absurd. Having said that, even if this incident is not the worst, it is also the most bizarre case of husband negligence on record. Moreover, in all the weird behaviors of human beings, it can be called a great willful behavior. The couple lived in London. The husband rented a house on the street very close to home under the pretext of traveling. They lived there for 20 years. There was no news about their wife, relatives and friends, and there was no reason for such self-exile. . For twenty years, he saw his home every day, and often saw the poor and lonely wife abandoned by him. Marriage happiness has been interrupted for so long-everyone thinks that he must die, the inheritance is arranged in order, and his name is forgotten. His wife had been resigned to fate a long time ago, and she was a middle-aged widow. Suddenly, he stepped into the house silently at night, as if he had only been away from home for a day. From then on he became a tender and considerate husband until his death. Remember these in the synopsis of the story. But this matter, although it is purely ingenious and unprecedented, I think it can really arouse the generous sympathy of mankind. We knew in our hearts that we would never do that kind of thing ourselves, but we always felt that maybe someone would do it. At least it often surfaced in my mind, making me amazed at the case, I felt that the story must be serious, and also formed a view of the personality of the protagonist. As long as there is a lingering thought in our mind, we will always spend time thinking about it. If the reader is willing, he can think hard. If you would rather hear me talk about Wakefield’s absurd behavior for two decades, I would welcome it too. I believe that there must be a deep thought or meaning in this matter, even if we don’t find it, it will be neatly condensed into the last sentence. Thoughts are always effective, and any eye-catching event has its own deep meaning. What kind of person is Wakefield? We are free to imagine and call us at will. He was middle-aged at the time, and he had never loved his wife as fascinated, but now he has calmed down and is accustomed to it. Among all the husbands, he is probably the most loyal, because he is lazy by nature, and settles down wherever his feelings are found. He has a clever mind, but he doesn't like to move, he always thinks lazily, aimlessly. Or lack of activities to achieve the goal. His thoughts are weak and weak, it is difficult to grasp the appropriate words. The word imagination, understood in its original meaning, is not Wakefield's talent at all. With such an indifferent but never depraved or inconspicuous heart, such a mind that has never been fanatical, nor confused for the sake of innovation, who would have expected that he should be second to none in weird behavior? If you ask his acquaintances, who is the one who did nothing in London today, but remembers to do it tomorrow, they will answer that it is Wakefield. Only his beloved wife may hesitate. Although she had never analyzed her husband's personality, she was aware of the quiet selfishness and special vanity that rusted his lazy soul. This is the most disturbing thing about him. He also has the ability to play tricks, which is nothing more than keeping some little secrets that are simply not worth revealing. At the end she knew that this good man was a bit weird sometimes. This last point is hard to say, maybe it's all in vain. Let us now imagine Wakefield saying goodbye to his wife. It was a twilight in October. His outfit consisted of a yellow-brown overcoat, a hat covered with oilcloth, a pair of boots, an umbrella in one hand, and a small travel bag in the other. He told his wife Go to the country in a night carriage. She wanted to ask him how far he was, where he was going, and when he would be back. However, in order to indulge his hobby of vain and vain, just one glance at him counts as an inquiry. He told her that he must not expect him to take the car back home, and don't worry if it is delayed for three or four days. However, when it was Friday dinner time, he had to wait for him to come back. Let's just say that, Wakefield himself, had no doubts about what was going to happen before. He stretched out her hand, she gave him it, and accepted his parting kiss in a way that the husband and wife took for ten years. The middle-aged Wakefield just left, almost determined not to come back for a whole week, making his good wife anxious. After the door closed behind him, she found that it had been pushed open again. Through this seam, her husband's face was smiling at her, and she disappeared for a while. She didn't care about this trivial matter at the time. But a long time later, when her widowhood was longer than her wife's time, this smile resurfaced in front of her eyes, flashing in all her memories of her husband's face. In contemplation, she had all kinds of speculations about the smile at the beginning, which made it strange and terrifying. For example, if you imagine him lying in a coffin, the parting expression will freeze on his pale face. Or, if he dreamed of him in heaven, his blessed soul would also wear a calm and sly smile. Because of this smile, everyone thought he was dead, but sometimes she still wondered if she was a widow. But what we are concerned about is that husband, we have to follow him down the street quickly, otherwise he will be gone, melt into the sea of Londoners, and go there to find him is in vain. We followed his footsteps closely, turned a few unnecessary bends, and made a few unjust rounds, and we found him resting comfortably by the fire in a small apartment. We had booked it long ago. Okay, it's on a street next to his home. This is the end of his journey. He couldn’t believe his good fortune, and he came here without knowing it—think about it. For a while, he was delayed by a group of people, and the lights were brilliant; another time, there seemed to be steps behind him, and the surroundings The sound of footsteps is different. After a while, I heard someone shouting in the distance, as if calling his name. Needless to say, there must be a dozen nosy people who have been staring at him and told his wife about it. Poor Wakefield! You really don't know how insignificant you are in the great world! No one is watching your tips except me. Go to bed quietly, idiot, as soon as tomorrow arrives, if you are still smart, go home quickly, return to the kind-hearted wife, and tell her the truth. Don't leave her pure heart even in just one week. If she thought you were dead or missing, or left her forever, you will sadly find that your faithful wife has changed since then. It's dangerous to hurt people's feelings. It's not that the wound will have a long and wide grin - it's that it will grow together so quickly! Repenting his joke, or whatever it was called, Wakefield went to bed and lay down on time. I woke up from the first doze, and found my arms stretched out on a strange bed, the place was so big, empty, and lonely. "No,"-he thought as he wrapped the quilt tightly-"I don't want to spend another night alone." In the morning he woke up earlier than usual and began to think about what he wanted to do. His thinking is so disorganized, he took this step thinking that his purpose was clear, but he couldn't explain it to himself. The plan was vague, and the fluctuating cold and hot in doing it all showed his weakness. Wakefield took care of his thoughts and tried to be as meticulous as possible, realizing that he was anxious to know what was going on at home-how his model wife would endure a week alone in the vacant room. In a word, the small world of family and environment centered on him will be affected without him. It can be seen that, at the root of this matter, there is still a kind of pathological vanity hidden. But how can we know the situation at home? Of course not in this comfortable apartment. Although the place where he slept and woke up was only one street away from home, he seemed to be far away from home, and the carriage drove him all night. However, if I go back, all the plans will be ruined. His poor mind was confused by the problem. Finally, he ventured out, somewhat planning to cross the street, and glance at his abandoned home. Habits—he is a habitual person—holds his hand and leads him to the door completely unconsciously. At this dangerous moment, he was awakened by the sound of his own footsteps scratching the steps. "Wakefield! Where are you going?" Suddenly, his fate was reversed, and he didn't even think about the bad luck that the first step in turning back would bring him. He ran away, the excitement he hadn't felt before made him breathless. I didn't dare to look back when I walked to the far corner, no one saw him? The whole family—a decent wife, a smart maid, a sloppy little messenger—have they never yelled, walked through the streets and chased their fugitive husband and master in the city of London? What a risk! He plucked up the courage to stop and look back, how did the familiar home change? Puzzled. We will have this feeling when we meet again with familiar things, such as which mountain, which lake, and which artwork, after several months and years. In general, this only appreciable impression is caused by the comparison and contrast between our incomplete memories and reality. For Wakefield, the magic overnight produced a similar change, because in this short period of time, his morality had changed dramatically, but he himself didn't understand it. Before leaving the place, he caught a glimpse of his wife, who walked past the window, facing the street. The sly fool ran away and thought with a panic that her eyes must have recognized him amidst the crowds. When he returned to the fire in the apartment, he was so happy, although a little dizzy. Enough talk about the opening of this long weird idea. The original idea has been completed, and the lazy man has already moved to implement it. As a result, the whole thing moved forward naturally. We can guess that after careful consideration, this person bought a new wig, in red. He also picked a variety of clothes, which were completely different from the brown clothes he used to wear, all from an old jewish bag. Coming. When you're done, Wakefield has changed into a different person. The new order has been established, and it is too difficult to return to the old order. It is as difficult as taking the first step and putting yourself in this awkward situation. Besides, because he was so sulking, he became quite stubborn, and now thinking that his actions would make his wife useless, his temper reappeared. Never go back without frightening her to death. Hey, two or three times, I saw her walking by, her steps became heavier and heavier, her face paler, and her expression anxious. In the third week after his disappearance, an ominous omen was discovered and a pharmacist entered his home. The next day, the door knocker was wrapped in cloth to make the knock on the door quieter. When it was dark, a carriage arrived, and a serious doctor in a wig got out of the car and entered Wakefield's house. After a quarter of an hour, he came out. Isn't it an announcement of the funeral? Dear woman! Will she die? At this moment, Wakefield was so excited that he seemed to be emotional, but he was still wandering outside, refusing to go to his wife's bed, begging his conscience for excuses that he shouldn't disturb her at this time. Even if there were other reasons preventing him from going, he didn't understand. After a few weeks, she gradually recovered and the crisis passed. Her heart is full of sorrow, probably, but it has calmed down, as he will return sooner or later, Xin'er will never be upset for him anymore. Such thoughts flashed dimly from Wakefield's consciousness, making him feel vaguely that there was an almost insurmountable gap separating his rented apartment from his former home. "Home is on the street next door!" he muttered so sometimes. fool! Home is in another world. Before that, he pushed the day of going home from a specific day to another; after that, he didn't determine the specific time anymore. Not tomorrow — maybe next week — soon. poor guy! There are as many opportunities for the dead to revisit their earthly homes as the self-exiled Wakefield. It would be great if I was writing a masterpiece instead of a mere ten-page article! Then we can give an example to illustrate how a force beyond our control can strongly influence all our behaviors, and how it shows its importance in the iron general laws of necessity. Wakefield was obsessed, and we had to let him wander around our home for about ten years, and never crossed the threshold once. He remains loyal to his wife and does his best to be affectionate. But he slowly disappeared in her heart. It should be said that he didn't feel out of line with his behavior a long time ago. Let's watch this scene now! On the bustling street, we recognized a man who has now seen aging and has few characteristics that can attract careless observers. However, a person who is good at seeing photos can tell that this person has an unusual fate engraved all over his body. He was skinny, his narrow forehead was deeply wrinkled, and his eyes were small and apathetic. Sometimes he was worried and his gaze wandered, but more often he seemed to be looking at his heart. He lowered his head and walked sideways, with an indescribable gait, as if he didn't want to face the world. Pay attention to him. Over time, you will discover all of what we have described, and you will agree-the environment can often make ordinary people outstanding-and this is the case. Let him walk sideways along the sidewalk, and cast your gaze to the opposite side. There is a fat old woman, whose beauty is dead, holding a prayer book in her hand, and is walking towards the church in the distance. She has the serene air of long-term widowhood. Her sorrow is either gone or is essential to the soul, and it is not appropriate to exchange for joy. Just as the thin man and the fat woman were walking by, a small congestion occurred in the flow of people, causing them to meet directly, and the two of them touched their hands, and the crowd squeezed her chest against his shoulders. The two stood still, face to face, looking at each other's eyes. After a ten-year absence, Wakefield reunited with his wife like this! The crowd receded, and they rolled them apart. The dignified widow returned to her original steps and walked to the church. However, she stopped at the door and cast a confused glance towards the street. However, she went in, opening the prayer book as she walked. And that man! With a frantic look, all the busy and selfish Londoners stopped and stared at his back. He hurried back to the apartment, plugged in the door, and fell on the bed. The feelings he had buried for many years were gushing out, and the weak heart also gained short-term strength from it. All the misery and unreasonableness of his life were revealed before him at once. He shouted excitedly: "Wakefield! Wakefield! You are crazy!" Maybe he is crazy, his special situation has made him no different from a lunatic. Considering the impact on his fellow human beings and life duties, it is impossible to say that he is still sane. He tried every means, or rather happened to isolate himself from the world-disappeared-to give up his position and privileges among the living people, but never received the recognition of the dead. The hermit lives are completely different from his life. He lives in the downtown as before, but he is ignored by the crowd. For example, he has always been beside his wife and the fire, but he can neither appreciate his wife's love nor enjoy the warmth of the fire. This is Wakefield's novel destiny. It retains the original human compassion and is closely related to human interests, but loses its corresponding influence on them. Exploring the impact of this situation on his mind and intelligence, whether viewed separately or in connection, will be endless. However, although he had changed, he didn't notice it, and thought it was the same as before. Yes, the truth sometimes flashes in my heart, but it’s a pity that it’s just a blink of an eye. He was still saying: "I'll go back soon!"-I have been saying this for twenty years without even thinking about it. I can also imagine that looking back on him for the past 20 years, I am afraid it will not be longer than the first week when he allowed himself not to go home. He will see this as an episode of his main career in life. Before long, when he feels that the time to return home is ripe, his wife will clap his hands with joy when he sees the middle-aged Wakefield. Oh, what a serious mistake! If time can really wait for us to do all the foolish things we love to do, we will all stay young forever until the end of the world. One evening in the twentieth year after his disappearance, Wakefield habitually wandered towards the place he still called his home. It was an autumn night when the wind was violent, and the showers were pounding on the sidewalk from time to time, and the pedestrians had not opened their umbrellas, but the rain stopped again. Stopping near the door of the house, through the window of the living room on the second floor, Wakefield noticed that a fire was shining red, and a strange figure appeared on the ceiling. It was the kind Mrs. Wakefield! The hat, nose, chin, and round waist are like a wonderful cartoon. Moreover, it dances with the flames that go up and down, which is too happy for such an old widow. As he watched, the shower hit, blowing a rough gust of wind, hitting Wakefield's face and chest. The chill of autumn penetrated the whole body instantly. Knowing that there is a hot stove at home, his wife will run to get the gray coat and underwear-needless to say, she carefully put these clothes in their bedroom closet-he is still stupid here Standing, shivering wet? No! Wakefield is not stupid. He climbed up the stairs—heavy steps! ——Since the last time I went downstairs, twenty years of spring and autumn have made his legs and feet stiff——but he still doesn’t understand. Stop, Wakefield! Go to the only home that you have abandoned? That would be like stepping into the grave! The door opened and he walked in. We caught a glimpse of his face and recognized his sly smile. Wasn't that a precursor to the little joke he had been making with his wife! How cruel he was teasing this poor woman! Come on, let's wish Wakefield a good night's sleep! This pleasant thing-even if it is pleasant-can only happen at an unpredictable moment. Let's not follow this friend to cross the threshold of his home. He has left us with a lot of things to think about, some of the wisdom of which is quite instructive for us and constitutes an image. In the seeming chaos of this mysterious world, in fact, each of us has been placed in a system very appropriately. Between the systems, between each and the whole, each has its place. As long as a person leaves his position, even for an instant, he will face the danger of losing his position forever. Just like this Wakefield, he may be, in fact, abandoned by the world.
View more about Wakefield reviews
