我们一直非常“惧怕”意识流。意识流是没有方向的河水,是倨傲的人,昂着头,垂下眼睛看着我们,作家一个人自顾自地说个不停,而且是想什么就说什么,想到哪里就说到哪里,这样的文学,我们真的会惧怕,会在某一页还没有读完的时候,很理直气壮地放弃了。 We have been very “dready” about the stream of consciousness. The stream of consciousness is a river without direction. It is a proud man. He holds his head high and looks down at us. The writer is talking nonsense about what he thinks and where he thinks when he thinks of it. In literature like this, we are really scared and will just give up when a certain page has not been read.