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"God is dead!"

"Life is a dark adage!"

"Man is born free!"

On September 14, 1908, after the German occupation of Paris, the philosophers and poets who were adrift in Paris frantically shouted such slogans, so that millions of people in Paris, many of them demanded to be unrestrained free men, bombarding hypocritical civilization with bohemian bodies and foul language and whimsy.

In response to the resistance of the French government in Bordeaux, Kaiser Wilhelm II publicly stated in the newspapers: "Everything in France should be drowned in flames and blood, men, women and children must be killed, not a single house or tree must be left, this is the only means of terror that can make the degraded French nation fearful." By this means, the war would have ended in less than two months, and if we in Germany had been humanitarian, the war would have lasted for several years. ”

At the instigation of the Kaiser, coupled with the fact that they were shot by French radicals from time to time, and Germany was in urgent need of logistical supplies, the German army gradually abandoned humanitarianism, not only burned and looted in the villages, but after Paris was occupied by the German army, the war made the lives of the citizens unprecedentedly slighted and trampled, those debauched and sexy women in Paris, extravagant materials, and eroded people's spiritual realm into ruins, and confused people, especially young people, began to doubt and think, and redetermined the meaning of life, Confirm the existence of an individual with the body and matter.

In the glittering city of Paris, in this place full of art, genius, seduction. A place of adventure, inspiration and sin, every street and tavern. Echoing the symphony of wine and sex, there are more than 100,000 high-class prostitutes, and the red light district is everywhere. Here, every talented or destitute person finds and stands out in every way around the tall Eiffel Tower. Any filthy beggar, a talented artist, is completely free from all traditional and modern civilizations in Paris. It can be completely reduced to a natural person, a primitive man, in addition to satisfying the physical and spiritual needs of the individual. Nothing else matters. Young Henry was one of them.

At the age of nineteen, Henri came from Besançon, a provincial town in eastern France next to Switzerland, where the great writer Victor Victor, known as the "Shakespeare of France". Mali. Hugo's hometown. Hugo died of pneumonia in 1885. After his death, the whole country of France mourned. More than two million people attended his funeral procession from the Arc de Triomphe to the Panthéon, where he was buried in the "Panthéon", where the monument to French celebrities gathered. From an early age, Henry dreamed of being a writer like Hugo, and one of Henry's classmates hooked him on reading. Henry read the works of France, Hugo, Emerson, Blavatskaya, Bergson, Maeterlinck, Proust, Nietzsche, and sometimes went to his neighbor's home library.

Penniless, he came to Paris in search of artistic inspiration, and even when the war broke out, he did not flee. Because he didn't have any money and didn't want to go. He found. I even have an attachment to this arrogant and dirty metropolis. He uses the most exaggerated, intense and sensitive action colors to dream-like youthful rebellious monologues. He had a big beard. Often in the red-light district, drunk like a playboy, he nonchalantly puts a hand under the white dress of a prostitute and says, "Civilized? Civilization is fucking alcohol, war engines, madhouses, suicides, destruction, famine......" He often threw his poetry collection to those low-level prostitutes in the kiln, provocatively: "Look, this is not a book of poetry, it is endless blasphemy, it is a spit in the face of art, it is a kick in the crotch of God, human time, love, beauty, and all other things!" ”

After the German occupation of Paris, Henry befriended two Parisian prostitutes, one was Jemanse, thirty-six years old, she was an authentic bitch, ignorant and lascivious, devoted herself wholeheartedly to her work, and even liked it, and did it before the war, no matter how humble and small the world she had carved out for herself, she was in deep it, like a fish in water, and she felt that her work was in itself an invigorating thing.

There was also Marie Gegue, a student with secondary education, whose brother and parents had died in the war, and whose relatives had fled Paris. She squirmed when she slept with Henry to do that, and she did this just to survive. This made Henry angry, and he felt that a prostitute had no right to sit there and wait for her to come to her, like a noblewoman! ”

Of these two people, Henry didn't know which one he preferred. Marie Gege has a bit of a brain, and has a sense of shame, so she stands on the bottom line of civilization and is fragile and sad, and she can't get along with herself in vain, but even if she dies of emaciation and depression with a conscience, she is still a prostitute, and it can't be anything else; On the contrary, Germans is ignorant, has no moral concept, and only wants to be genuinely happy in bed. She often said that in life, what is more important than happiness? God can't help human suffering, and civilized morality only adds to the suffering.

Young Henry didn't know how to live. Henry sometimes felt that he was obscene and obscene, a scoundrel and madman, and sometimes he felt that he was nobler than the gentlemen who carried the stick of civilization, and he liked to reveal the tragic essence of life in his own unique way, and to show off the vitality of the prickly people.

Henry knew Jemans in a dilapidated dining room, and the lady sitting at the table turned her head, her gaze coldly scanning Henry's young and handsome face, and quickly moving away. For such a brief moment, Henry thought it was a fateful arrangement, and there was no doubt that he thought Germans was a strange, unorganized, and unspeakable woman full of charm!

He is soberly aware that what he needs most is this woman! Without her, I would never have become a writer. The daughter of a Polish Jewish immigrant, with her harsh language and fantasies, miraculously guessed his talents and understood his heart.

Jemans's job is as a dancer and as a part-time stripper at a local nightclub, where she can spend the night with a man who pays enough money. That day, Heng used the corner of his eye to sneak a look at Jemans's outfit for work: greased and powdered faces, bright red lips, and bare legs; Beautifully styled, fancy hats, and skirts without underwear, she intercepted his greedy gaze.

They had sex that night in the basement where Henry was renting. Afterwards. Germanse said to Henry irrefutably, "In the future, my job is to earn money." Your job is writing. ”

For the next week, every night, Henry sat at the typewriter, feigning a burning passion, and then the two enjoyed a cheerful exercise in bed. Germans, who was seventeen years older than Henry, had a soft, nasal, voice. There is a hypnotic magic in speech. Nineteen-year-old Henry himself didn't understand why he suddenly met Germans that day. I have to say that when the lover of a woman who is almost twice as old as herself. It was to Henry's taste, but he was also ashamed of the relationship, but he couldn't break it off with Jermans.

In order to terminate the relationship, he went to find another prostitute, Mari Gege. About the same age as him. The two had a relationship. Afterwards. Henry went to find Jemans, before parting, in the small dark room, the light was dim, Jemans took off her skirt and underwear, Henry looked at Jemans, leaned on her chest, he suddenly realized: he was powerless to break free from her arms. He stayed. Whatever the future holds, he muttered to himself. These two sentences were written: "God is dead!" Everyone will leave this world, please live this life with a free heart. ”

Jemanse said that this was the most interesting thing Henry had ever written.

Marigo was lonely in Paris, she was very thin, she walked unsteadily, she always stepped on the air, she always almost fell to the mud, and her pure white lace skirt was stained with dust. She even nervously felt as if the dress was protecting her from injury, like the white powder of a mask smeared on her face.

The streets of Paris are as bustling with people as they were before the war. Marigo couldn't remember if she was eighteen or nineteen. Sometimes there is not a single guest in a day. Her back was a little hunched, but she always kept her chest straight. She took all her belongings with her, and kept her clothes elsewhere. Her face, with an elegant silhouette, wears glasses, wears high heels and a white gauze skirt with long white gloves, and holds a white parasol with long handles.

At that time, the German artillery bombardment made some of the old streets of Paris dilapidated. As far as the eye can see, there are concrete wreckage and twisted, monstrous steel skeletons. Sometimes something of flesh and blood can be found - it can't be called a corpse anymore. In the oncoming wind, there is only choking dust, and the despair of the French.

Marigo didn't know what she had to do. The death of her father and brother in the war, as well as the loss of her relatives, made her feel very cold. The war was not over, but the men of France were defeated on the battlefield, and the women had to fight in Paris.

"Be a new woman - foreign-related clubs recruit female ** waiters, including food, housing and clothing, high income, limited to women between the ages of 18 and 25." On September 20, an advertisement for the headquarters of the German occupation forces caught her eye. The post-war homeland was devastated, and in Paris at that time, even men and university students could not find jobs, let alone women with little culture. As soon as they saw the advertisement for a job, the unemployed immediately rushed to it. On the same day, thousands of people came to sign up. Marigo is one of them.

Marigo didn't know what the ad was really asking her to do. At first glance, this is no different from an ordinary job advertisement. However, it was the German Association for Special Comfort Facilities that distributed the advertisement. From then on, day and night, the German GIs waited in line outside, the women were like livestock in the house, there was no freedom to refuse at all, and on the highest day, Marig picked up 35 German GIs, and did that, the feeling of belonging to human beings was basically gone.

However, due to public criticism in the British and American newspapers and the growing spread of the German GIs, the German occupation command closed the comfort stations on the grounds that "blatant prostitution is a betrayal of civilization".

As a result, Marigo and other women who had lost their feet were driven out into the street without any compensation, covered in sores. Perhaps, from the moment they entered this business, God had turned his back on them, leaving them to slowly sink into hell and fend for themselves.

These women, who have lost the cost of living and have no ability to make a living, can only continue to work in the ** industry. They stand on both sides of the streets of Paris, wearing cheap and heavy lipstick, revealing dresses, putting on all kinds of bewitching expressions, and selling their hues for a small income. With their bodies and tears, they paid off the debts of the defeated men and their own countries.

When Marig was in secondary school, she was good at German, could draw, and could play the piano. She always chose her clients—most of the time, she was only in the business of officers, especially the wealthy ones, which meant a comfortable life. Marig doesn't speak to anyone, always walks with her head up, and wears a vintage Parisian dress.

Marigo had been walking the streets of Paris, forever dressed like a noble lady, and Henry was moved by her innocent eyes at first sight, and he had to drain all his money to do it with her. He didn't even have the money to stay in a hotel, and the two danced in the wind on the streets of Paris. After the two finished their exercise and chatted for a while, Henry was moved by Marig's story, and he was sweating profusely and wanted to weave such a woman into his bitter and erotic story. After taking Henry's job, Marigo still stood on the bustling street, her long white dress and her signature white face never changed.

"There's no way around it, who cares about you back then, who feeds you? People have to live, no matter what others say, as long as the heart is clean. Marigo sighed to Henry.

But Marigo is a bit dazzling, and many people will be scared and disgusted when they see her. In the eyes of those noble, Marigo was seen as a disgrace, and no one wanted to touch what Marig had used. She also has no money to eat in restaurants, and usually eats raw bread on the street. She would wander around a fixed street corner every day. Tired and resting in an abandoned park where there is a broken chair that belongs to her. At night, she slept on a bench with her feet on her bag. There, no one expelled her. It's just not very safe, and there are a lot of homeless people covered in fleas who also go there to spend the night.

There were photographers who took pictures of her, full of sympathy and respect for Marigo. She can change a piece of bread in every photo, and she is willing to cooperate in various poses. Sometimes it's to lift the skirt corners against the wind.

Marigo wrote letters, legend has it that she also wrote an autobiography, her handwriting was very neat and neat, and in a letter to her grandmother in the country, she said that she came to the big city but achieved nothing, which disappointed her grandmother, and one day, she would get ahead and go back well.

In Paris, the closest person to Marigo was Henry. There was also a man named Luiscon, who spoke German and sang in a bar. Every day, Louis Kang carefully combed his curly hair and sang some jazz-like songs on stage.

After the war, when there was a shortage of male labor in France and a large number of shops were closed, French women supported their families by taking on the most humble occupations, including Louiscon's mother.

Louis Kang's mother, who was also a prostitute.

Louis Kang told Mary the story of his mother: "My mother had a good officer, and I was jealous of the way my mother looked at the man, so I called her a prostitute." My mother was also anxious, and she scolded me with tears on her face, and then committed suicide. Now that I think about it, it would be nice if my mother were still here, and when I saw you, Miss Marigo, I felt that you were like my mother, and I really wanted to do something for you, and I couldn't see you as a stranger. It's a pity that I don't have much money. ”

Mary said to Louiscan: "Thank you, you have done a great job. Really appreciate you. ”

Mary later became very close to Henry, and there was an endless amount of to say. She slowly told her story to Henry, who always discussed every detail with her very carefully, of course, for creative purposes.

After a dinner, Henry asked Marigo, "Have you ever had a lover?" ”

"Of course, it's a moral officer. He once gave me an emerald ring. At the time of farewell, we were still kissing at the train station. "He was handsome, with a high hooked nose and a small mole on his right eyebrow. ”

Henry thought Marig was lying to him, so he asked, "What about the ring?" ”

With a trembling hand, Marigo took out an emerald ring from her bosom, which glittered in the darkness. The ring looked ordinary, but Marig regarded it as a treasure.

Henry said, "Will that German officer come back to you?" ”

Marig's gaze fixed on the Emerald Ring and said, "To be honest, I don't know. I don't know if he'll come back alive, though he promised me. (To be continued......) u