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灯市口西街,丰富胡同。给老舍故居看门的,是一个五六十岁的大爷,高高瘦瘦的模样,穿着一件深蓝色的中式大袄,冻红的脸,在日头正好的上午,字句铿锵地向周围人述说老合先生的故事。那是2月的北京,201 2年。说的是8月24日的故事,1966年,老合最后的那几个小时。有声,有形,有演绎,还有别人故事的勾连(比如几天之后在上海上吊身亡的傅雷夫妇),颇有几分说大书的味道。他讲得绘声绘色,我们听得屏气凝神,最后各自几分落寞的味道,收场,散去,却不真切。
Lights City Street West, rich alley. To Lao She former residence gatekeeper, is a five or six year old uncle, tall and thin appearance, wearing a dark blue Chinese jacket, red face, in the morning sun, the sonorous sonorous to the surrounding Man said Mr. Lao Hop the story. That is Beijing in February, 201 2 years. Talking about the story of August 24, 1966, the last couple of hours together. Sound, tangible, interpretation, as well as the hook with the story of others (such as a few days later in Shanghai, Fu Lei couple who hanged), quite a bit that big book taste. He speaks vividly, we can hear the breathtaking, the last of their own somewhat lonely taste, ended, dispersed, but not real.