讲故事的人短文和答案(A story maker; essays and answers).doc

讲故事的人短文和答案(A story maker; essays and answers).doc

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讲故事的人短文和答案(A story maker; essays and answers)

讲故事的人短文和答案(A story maker; essays and answers) Story telling man Speech by Mo Yan and Nobel prize for Literature Mo Yan 08 December 2012 morning [note] Beijing time December 8, 2012 morning, the 2012 Nobel prize winner, Chinese writer Mo Yan in the Swedish Academy of literature published speech, the theme of storyteller (Storyteller). The following is the full text of the speech. Distinguished Fellow of the Swedish Academy, ladies and gentlemen: Through television or the Internet, I think all of you here know more or less about the remote Gaomi northeast township. You may have seen my ninety year old father, seeing my brother, sister, my wife, my daughter, and my one and 04 month old granddaughter. But theres someone I miss the most at the moment, my mother, youll never see it. After I won the prize, many people shared my glory, but my mother couldnt share it. My mother was born in 1922 and died in 1994. Her ashes were buried in the peach orchard on the east side of the village. Last year, a railroad was going through it, and we had to move her grave farther away from the village. We dug the grave, see the coffin has decayed, mothers skeleton mixed with clay, has. We had to symbolically dig up some earth and move to the new grave. From that moment on, I felt that my mother was part of the earth, and that I was speaking on the earth, talking to my mother. Im the youngest child of my mother. The earliest thing I remember is carrying the only thermos bottle at home to open the water in the public dining room. Because of hunger and weakness, will miss the hot water bottle broken, I was scared to death, into the haystack, the day did not dare to come out. In the evening, I heard my mother calling my name. I crawled out, thought it would be beaten, but mother didnt hit me nor scold me, just touched my head, mouth heaved a sigh. The most painful thing in my memory, followed her to the collective to glean, the crop to the people, the people have fled glean, my mothers feet,

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