张爱玲的书总给我冷冷的伤感,那是一种与自身隔得很远的郁闷,就像透过厚厚的玻璃看窗外的雨雪天时的感觉,漫游于字里行间的悲怆却仍似靠在屋内的壁炉般温暖舒适,只是微微有些局促不安。冷雪并不让我有寂寞的感觉,只是恨这雪埋没了出游的可能。洞若观火有时并不是件快乐的事,凡事看得太透彻,就丧失了奋斗的阶值,只有看不清这个世界时才能好好爱它--要躲在张爱玲的小说里做少女是件残忍的事,在这一点上琼瑶比较仁慈。 Zhang Ailing’s book always gives me a cold sadness. It is a kind of depressing that is very far from itself. It is like the feeling of rain and snow through the thick glass window. The grief that roams between the lines still seems to rely on The fireplace in the house is warm and comfortable, but it’s only slightly uncomfortable. Cold snow does not make me feel lonely, just hate this snow buried travel possibility. If you look at the fire, sometimes it is not a happy thing. When you see things too thoroughly, you lose the value of your struggle. You can only love it if you do not see the world clearly. It is a cruel thing to hide in Zhang Ailing’s novels. At this point, Qiong Yao is kinder.