If music is the echo of the soul and the resonance of fragile emotions, then it is a little private to describe music in words. In the book Music Notes, writer Xiao Fosun took music as the score and struck a chord, describing his simple intimacy with music for many years: music is our most natural blend with life in this world, and it can be said that in all art categories, only music is related to each of us. Since we were just born, snuggling in our mother's arms and listening to the lullaby in her mouth, music has penetrated into our lives, accompanied by every moment of our lives, omnipotent and everywhere. Sometimes, I think of the excitement of learning flute and erhu for the first time when I was a child, and the sadness of missing my dream violin. Occasionally, I think that when I was a child, I often blew out some inexplicable music with my mouth, and I often made up one song after another with those songs immediately (especially when I was walking in the snowy wilderness in the Great Northern Wilderness, I could shout and sing freely). It's just that those tunes are forgotten in an instant and scattered with the wind, leaving only those poems that stand like bones, like thin branches and leaves blown by the wind. Without a little moisture, I often feel regret and disappointment that I don't understand music. I will never forget that early winter 10 years ago, I went back to my hometown to bury my mother. When the loess began to bury the simple coffin containing my mother's urn, the villagers suddenly sang and cried, which shocked me. That is the most primitive music in my heart, echoing on the bare land after harvesting crops in the central Hebei plain, drifting away and disappearing behind the branches of poplar trees swaying in the wind in the distance. What can better express the feelings at this moment than this song "Crying"?

In fact, everyone's heart often surges to answer the wonderful music inside, and there will be touching feelings that strange sounds and wonderful music flow into the heart. Music will never disappear as long as people still have feelings. Whether it's high mountains and flowing water or very sonorous, in essence, music has no distinction between ancient and modern elegance and vulgarity. Wind, elegance, praise, Bayes, Mohs and Shore are nothing more than a word of "harmony", a long month to accompany the mood in the quiet night, and a long wind to enjoy the sorrow alone in loneliness. As Xiao Fosun wrote in the preface of the book: "We often quote Saint-Sang's famous saying that' music begins with the end of the language', and there is a saying:' Music can say what can be expressed by non-language, which makes us discover our most mysterious and profound things; It can convey those impressions and "moods" that no words can express. ""... Xiao Fuxing's love for music is the yearning and calling for the lost emotion, and the memory and comfort for the bitter soul.

Because of this, he dedicated all the emotional secrets of the past 10 years to this book, sharing joys and sorrows with those "musical impressions". Moreover, these feelings are private and have nothing to do with personnel, past and present, just for that passionate love. Xiao Fuxing is a famous writer who has made great achievements in the fields of novels and reportage. He has been fascinated with music for 10 years, so he left this book to explain music-soul to readers, which is also a blessing for many readers who pursue interest. There are many interesting things in the world, such as the color of mountains, the taste of water and the light of flowers, and so on. Elegant houses, beautiful maids, fresh clothes, delicious food, flowers and birds, antiques ... are all the flavors and interests of life. Among them, music is the cleanest and most transparent, with mysterious meaning and no trace and no desire. Xiao Fosun, a writer, stubbornly indulged in this after being puzzled, which has a special meaning.

For music, Xiao Fuxing is far from an expert. He looked for Beethoven, listened to Chopin, felt Mozart, dreamed of Grieg and approached Verdi. He also misses Tayu Lo and understands Cai Qin and Cui Jian ... From this, we can find that his "musical impressions" are all the precipitation of years, nostalgia for homesickness, expectation of sincerity and persistence, and sigh of the past. As he wrote in his book: "That night was really good, as if it really filtered out a lot of noise and heat, as if it was really full of tranquility and meditation, as if it was really far away from the road, with a kind call and waiting in the depths of the night ... Because of this wonderful piano sound, it dissipated in the dark like air like flowers ..." Yes, this music penetrated into our hearts like night, and our hearts were intoxicated.