读书笔记
读书心得
I read the article “ Mrs.Stoner and the sea.”, written by Pearl.S. Buck. Originally published in 1972 under the title “ In Loving Memory.” The article describes the Mrs.Stoner’s memories of the love of her husband for her after his sudden death. They had quarrel about the sea, the husband wanted to go to see the sea, but Mrs.Stoner felt that there was nothing to see in the sea and life was very busy, so she would not let him go. After her husband's death, she went to the beach with longing for husband and felt that she was wrong.
1) (A) Mrs. Stoner in the church, leaning on the arm of her eldest son, Stephen, she walked toward the casket in which her husband lay, composed in death.
In the morning, three days before, he had taken his lunch box as usual to go to his job as foreman of a gauge factory. At the door he had hesitated.
“I’d like to take the day off”.
She had asked: “ For what?”
“Take a bus and go to the seashore by myself, set and look at the waves rolling in.”
“It is nothing but water.”
“Yeah—” he said and went out the door. Five blocks he had to walk and he had walked it for forty years since he was twenty-three and they were married.
“Let’s take a week for a honeymoon and go to the shore” he had said eagerly when they had decided to marry.
“I can’t see what there is just in looking at a lot of water,” she had said stubbornly.
But Steve had never given up on the sea. He stopped talking about going after a while, for with the children coming there was not a penny to share. He bought a magazine about sea.
The minister was intoning the eulogizing. “ Stephen Stoner , a man faithful unto death. He was a devoted husband and father. He was a model citizen, content to do his duty day by day.”
Yes, Mrs Stoner thought, he was all of those things. But she wished that he had not, that very last day, brought up the old quarry about the sea. It had been an unending quarrel.
He had been a good father. He always took the children’s side against her. “ Don’t be so hard on the kids, Ellen,” he’d say.
He’d sit and stare at the photographers he had collected of the sea, he would show a picture to her, “ Take a look at that, Ellen!”he’d say. “I see it,” she’d say grimly. There was a lot of think to do in the house, even how to spend the money he earned. He gave it to her every Friday, keeping two dollars a week for him. He was a good husband.
(B) The funeral was over quickly. She and the children went home together. Two of the children had died in childhood,—long ago. He had said: “ It’s not so easy to live, Ellen. They’re spared a lot— working day after day at same job, and you don’t know why, at that.”
She sat down in the rocking chair by the window, and looked out. Above the houses was a strip of sky. Her mind wandering after. Where was he now? Into what space had he gone?
Now Indeed she was haunted by the sea.She missed Steve night and day, but every time she thought of him, she thought of sea. He was dead, she half wished she had let him go. “ Why didn’t you go anyway” she muttered one day.
She knew he was a real man. He never liked to hurt her, and she’d have been hurt if he’d left her like that. Because she couldn’t imagine herself sitting all day staring at it rolling in and rolling out again.
What could the sea be like that made him long for it? Now it was almost as though his longing had been transferred to her. She’d see it for him and find out for herself.
(C) One night Mrs.Stoner said to children: “ Dad wanted to go to the ocean, and he never go around to it. It was my fault. I didn’t see why he wanted to go. I’ve a notion to go and look at it for myself.”
“There’s a bus take you right there.” Stephen said.
“ I’ll go by myself, I’ll go on Wednesday next week.” Mrs.Stoner said.
As the days dragged past, she found herself anticipating with dread. It was as though she were going to meet Steve there. She missed him In pangs of remembrance— his lunch box, for example. When the Wednesday came, she packed the lunch box, she caught the bus to the nearest point on the shore. She arrived there about noon. The air was air she had never breathed in the smoky industrial town.
Steve used to talk about the sea air, “ It’s clean.” She had retorted: “ The air here is good enough for me.” Now, breathing this fresh sea air, she knew what he meant.
The beach was empty. It was the sea, having mass of water, blue under the blue sky.
So this was Steve’s dream! She felt a great wrench at her heart. The wind tossed her hair, and for a moment, she forgot he was gone. “ Oh Steve, darling!” she cried aloud. She had a sudden feeling that he heard her. “ I was wrong!”
She was coming back. She could see that now.
“I hope he knows,” she whispered.
2）I think:
(A) Indeed, Mrs.Stoner was wrong. Her husband loved the sea, there's nothing wrong with it. She should not stop her husband going, even if she didn’t want to. She should go with him, which will leave beautiful memories in life.
(B) I have been to the beach several times. When I was studying at Fuxing Primary School in Shanghai, my teacher took us to Pudong to see the sea. I remember sleeping in the tent on the beach at night, and when I came back, my whole body was covered in red measles. My mother took me to the hospital, after applying the medicine, all my skin fell off and new skin was grown.Since then, I have grown taller.
In 2007, my wife and I went to Northern Europe with a tour group and went to the beach. I remembered there was a little boy playing by the seaside, and a few members of the group thought the boy was cute and walked towards him. This made the boy's father very uneasy and quickly came over to take the child away.
In 2018, I was living in elderly apartment in United State. The resident committee organized a beach trip to Atlanta, New Jersey. At that time I was just recovering from sick and very weak, but I went anyway. At the beach we went up and down the coast in a convertible, and we each gave $30 to go into the casino, and I lost all.
?And now last comes the final question, the most important of them all, the question which faces every human being alive. If when we die, young or old, is it the end or is there more beyond? When my husband died, I faced this question with every resource at my command, religious and scientific. I am so constituted that I am not satisfied except with a reasonable rationale for both. I cannot accept any suggestion that religion can answer a question without a scientific basis, nor will I depend on a mechanistic scientific reply. Today I face the question for myself. I am at an age that reminds me often that this mortal life cannot continue forever, however robust my frame, inherited from robust ancestors. Do I believe in the persistence of my spirit, my soul, my being, now housed in my mortal frame? My answer is yes I do believe in a continuing existence. When I say continuing, I mean an individual continuing so that I can recognize myself as I expect to recognize others at the same level. I have come to this conclusion on a religious and a scientific hypothesis, expressed negatively as a primary argument after which I arrived by rational means at a positive conclusion. When we know how to do it, we shall be able to communicate between the different levels of existence. We have neglected real scientific research into this field, but some beginning has been made. (Taken from “What I Believe,’” originally published in Encyclopedia Britannica Quarterly in 1972 and reprinted in “Mrs. Stoner and the Sea” and Other Works. Creativity, Inc. 1972.)