小袁作品《雄师》震撼美国写作老师||袁哥明年的刺激惊艳的课程

小袁第二学期的课程里头的最爱就是写作课啦！为什么呢，因为在当别人为提升写作成绩而抓耳挠腮的时候，小袁却轻轻松松地得了好几个满分作文😂。其实这一点也不是炫耀，只是呢，我在写作中收获了许许多多乐趣。写作中的快乐让我在“创作”的时候灵感涌现。当然啦，所谓的“满分作文”也说明了老师的要求并不太严格，她主要看你享受了写作的过程没有。

不过好笑的是，在第二学期，我的英语成绩相比于写作成绩来说差了很多，而我身边的同学们大多都是写作成绩差英语差很多，于是小袁便经常自嘲：“英语差到爆，但是写作屌炸天😂”

今天给大家分享的呢，就是写作的期末作业，(相当于是中国的期末大考了。此次期末作业叫做“模仿写作”。顾名思义，就是学生们自己去寻找喜欢的作家(尽可能是说英语的)，然后模仿他/她的写作风格，写一篇文章(可以是一篇短篇小说，也可以是一个戏剧)。我选择写了一篇短篇小说，名字叫《雄师》，改编于《老人与海》。希望大家以一个看待十六岁高中生作品的态度来评价，希望大家能够喜欢。中文版可能还差一点味道，因为英语才是我写作时的语言，中文是我后来翻译的。

下面就是中文版咯：

雄师

酒保在收拾桌子上残落的酒瓶子。他借着油灯的暗光往厅堂中央望去。大力士半睡半醒地把头搁在右肩上。他的扳手腕儿的对手圣地亚哥，睁着狮子一般凶猛的眼睛，盯着大力士的手腕。“人是不会被打败的，他只能被摧毁。可是我要被摧毁了吗？即便这样，我也是不会认输的。”圣地亚哥又开始了平日里的胡思乱想。“可不能想太久，我得专注于比赛。”

大力士的肌肉块儿渐渐松弛下来。圣地亚哥于是猛地往左侧桌子一按。他赢了。24小时，从星期天早上到星期一早上。圣地亚哥已经很久没喝水了。他噎涩的嗓子微微的却卖力的颤动，“我赢了”却被酒保的一声富有能量的高呼“开业了”给盖住了。

“你知道吗，那场比赛可围满了人看呢……可是现在，这场比赛只有你和我，没有观众，没有欢呼。没什么人太在乎谁赢了……可是我，圣地亚哥，这一次一样是不可能被击败的。可能……当这个大力士在最后关头用尽了他的力气，便能赢。不过哈哈哈哈哈，就算这样，输的只是我的肉体。我那……咳咳……脆弱的肉体。狮子没了爪子还是狮子。就算把我的肉体摧毁了，我的心还是一颗狮子心。”

老人夜里最后一次望向了那条马林鱼沉睡的地方。用尽了最后一点说话的意愿。

第二天清晨，一阵带有鱼腥味的风吹过老头的衣角。他正准备松开攥着马林鱼鱼线的左手去揉揉惺忪的睡眼。由于半夜攥的太紧，松开过后，左手手掌心被勒出了一条不规则的血痕。突然，钓住马林鱼的绳子像一条被惊动的棕蛇嗖嗖地往前面的深海底窜。老人这才反应过来—马林鱼醒过来了，它又一次开始了行动。

船尾的桅杆上拴紧马林鱼鱼绳的绳头在吹来的寒风中快速抽动，就像一个戳破了气的气球在垂死挣扎。老人的渔船飞快的向前移动。逆着浪流，船上的鱼叉激烈的颤动。敲击甲板的声音混着海水的咆哮使圣地亚哥坚定了自己的信念。他发出了一声怒吼“啊！我要战胜你。我要拿我的鱼叉刺破你的头颅。我要让你滴血。我要……”

轰隆隆，黑压压的天空向老人压来。电闪雷鸣中，那刺眼的闪光不断的击打在老人苍老的手背上。他双脚蹬着船头，双手合力攥着那绷直的鱼线。圣地亚哥每一条肌肉都蜷鼓成一团。他松弛的皮肤上的老年斑由于长时间的用力而绷成一大块；再费一丝一毫的力就能裂开，袒露出滚烫的血与肉。一阵海啸袭来，马林鱼跳出水面，在空中，它的尾巴扬起了海水。闪电的煞白的光照在它的眼上。老人看到了它求生的渴望。

在圣地亚哥的恍惚间，那鱼猛地从空中扎入海底。浪花溅在老人的脸上，就像被力量强劲对手啐了一口唾沫一样。马林鱼拽着鱼线沉入了深海，与此同时一个巨浪把老人和小船翻了起来。老人栽到水里。他的头在接触水面的一刹那，被掀翻的小船底部重重的击晕了。

在一阵眩晕中，圣地亚哥眼前出现了一只狮子。狮子一步一步向他走来。很快便消失在一片沉寂中。老人奋力地反抗，用尽浑身力气抓挠面前那片黑幕。沉在水底，老人开始咆哮。上下扑腾的手终于触碰到了什么。不过他什么也看不见。只能根据他敏锐的触感来进行判断。这是被浪击落在水下的鱼叉。那眼前的黑幕终于被撕开了一道裂缝。透过那裂痕，老人看到马林鱼兴奋的迎接自由的怀抱。他愤怒地把鱼叉向马林鱼掷了过去。老人彻底没有力气了。他的四肢像一颗海草，幽幽地沉入海底。马林鱼咂巴鱼嘴，向老人看去。海底强者的目光轻蔑的看了看它的失败者。转身，便离开了。

圣地亚哥最后一次看见了那头骄傲的雄师。它以一种傲立群雄的姿态踩在云端，像是在寻找着什么。狮子在一滩湖水旁停了下来，望着清澈的湖水中威风的倒影。老人的微笑永远的凝固在了他的脸上，赠予那黑暗的海底。

又是一阵雷，男孩从梦中醒了过来。他擦擦头上的汗珠。眼睛朝着最深的海洋痴痴地望去。他在梦中看见在迷雾中，出现了一只狮子，嘴里含着一只小鱼。它发出一声低吼，小鱼的血顺着狮子的嘴角流了下来。男孩记得，那是一条马林鱼，可是他从来没见过这么小的马林。

下面就是小袁童鞋写的原汁原味的英文版咯：

The Lion

The bartender was packing up the bottles left on the table by the drunks from last night. He looked towards the center of the hall with the dim light glowing from the oil lamp. Sitting beside the center table, the half-asleep Hercules was resting his head against his right shoulder.

Santiago was staring with eyes of a lion at the strong foe’s bicep. The old man began his random fantasy, “Man is not made for defeat. He can only be destroyed but not defeated. But, am I going to be destroyed? Even so, I must not surrender to defeat.” He finished his thought, “I can’t think like that; I have to concentrate on the competition.”

The block of muscles from the opponent relaxed. Santiago slammed Colossus’ arm to the table. He won! For twenty-four hours, from Sunday morning to Monday morning, Santiago had hallucinations of water due to thirst. His dried out vocal chords screeched, "I won" only to be covered by the bartender's shouting "Open for business!"

"You know what big fish, every sailor at that port came to watch my match... But now, this game is only between you and me, no audience, no cheers. Nobody will ever see this victory. But I, Santiago, will not be defeated here either. Perhaps...if Hercules had as big of a heart as mine, he could have won. But even so, the only thing that I would have lost was my body, my fragile flesh...cough cough…A lion doesn’t have to have claws to be a lion. Even if my body is destroyed, you will never defeat my lion soul." The old man looked at the place where the marlin was sleeping for one last time. He used his last bit of willingness to speak.

The next morning, a wind with a fishy smell blew up through the back of the old man's collar. His whole body was hurt from holding the fishing line. As he awoke, Santiago prepared to loosen his left hand to rub his sleepy eyes. Because he clenched too tight throughout the night, after the release, the palm of the left hand was pulled out with an irregular blood mark. His left hand had a ½ inch groove scraped into it from the fishing line. The blood had dried and hardened into a dark purple line of its own but would rip open again after the slightest jerk from the marlin. Suddenly, the rope that hooked the marlin curved like a reddish-brown snake jabbing down into the deep ocean. Th old man now realized that the marlin had awoken and started dragging the boat across the ocean’s surface again.

On the stern's mast, the knots of the line were quickly twitching in the cold wind as the sails whistled from a punctured hole. The old man’s fishing boat moved forward quickly. Against the waves, the harpoon trembled on the ship, begging to be of use. The sound of harpoon hitting the deck mixed with the roar of the sea confirmed Santiago’s faithful heart. He roared, "Ah! I will defeat you. I will pierce you through your head with my spear. I want you to bleed. I want..."

Rumble. The black sky casted a blanket on the old man’s back. Within the milliseconds of lightning and thunder, the glare of the flash shined on the back of the old man's fishing pole. Santiago pushed his feet against the bow and held his hands together to hold on to the line. Every muscle in his body was cramped and swollen into a ball. The cancerous moles on his hands were almost torn in half along with the stretched flesh due to the torque against the marlin; another tug from the fish, finally splits the moles from the skin, revealing hot blood and open flesh. A micro-tsunami struck the boat when the marlin jumped out of the water. In the air, its tail splattered the water. The pale light from the midnight lightning was reflecting on the marlin’s eyes, the old man could see its desire to survive.

Santiago was distracted for one second by the monster’s stare. The marlin slammed into the sea. Its splash flew onto the old man's face like the spit from a rude opponent. The marlin sank into the deep sea with the broken fishing line while a huge wave turned the old man and the boat upside down. The old man plunged into the water. His head was knocked unconscious by the bottom of the overturned boat the moment they both hit the water.

In a dizzy dream, a lion emerged in front of Santiago. The lion came to him step by step but soon disappeared in the silence of the deep sea. The old man struggled to resist and used all his strength to scratch the black curtain in front of him. Sinking under the water, the old man began to growl. His hands moved up and down and had finally grabbed something. But he could not see anything. It could only be identified based on his keen sense of touch. It was the harpoon drown beneath the waves. The black curtain in front of him finally torn open with a crack, through which, the old man saw the marlin’s excitement to embrace freedom. Santiago indignantly threw the harpoon towards the marlin which exerted all of his strength. His limbs were like seaweed, floating quietly into the bottom of the ocean. The marlin licked its punctured mouth and stared once again at the old man. The Colossus watched its loser contemptuously. It turned around and left.

In the last few seconds of his life, Santiago saw the noble lion again. It stepped on a cloud in a proud manner, as if hunting for something. The lion stopped at the shore of a lake and looked down at his reflection, a mighty figure appeared in the water. The old man’s smile was forever solidified on his face,giving it tothe dark sea.

Another thunder, the boy woke up from his dream. He wiped the sweat on his forehead and looked towards the deep ocean beyond his balcony. In his dream, he saw a lion with a small fish in its mouth. The lion growled, and the blood from the small fish flowed down the corner of the lion's mouth. The boy knew that the fish was a marlin, but he had never seen such a small marlin…

下面是有关海明威写作风格讲解的字幕：

The primary reason for me to select Ernest Hemingway as the author to imitate was because I was extremely attracted to his unique way of expressing a scene: concise and informative. He tried to use simple and accurate words/phrases to convey a direct and informational idea. When writing without fancy adjectives, adverbs, or other modifiers, it is extremely hard for an author to prevent his/her writing from getting boring. Hemingway’s writing style is like a journalist/reporter who states the most direct facts, but his writing is still extremely intriguing because of his attention to dramatizing the significance/central idea that he wanted to convey and characters’ mental thoughts. In my opinion, Hemingway is like a “constructor” who gives space for the readers to think about what is behind the facts by simply telling the facts to the readers. Most of the other writer are like “manipulators” who intentionally provide certain facts with certain emotions and interpretations, leaving less space for readers to think openly. Characteristics of Hemingway’s writing style are: 1. the use of concrete nouns and verbs, 2. little use of modifiers unless necessary, 3. objectively and informative telling of the story, 4. central idea being stated clearly in the story, 5. various character’s mental thoughts, and 6. imagery of a lion in The Old Man and The Sea. I tried to incorporate all of these characteristics into my own piece of writing. Throughout my piece, I used many concrete nouns and verbs without using a lot of modifiers. I also changed some sentence structures to make them more condensed while informational. The central idea being conveyed in my piece is “Man is not made for defeat. He can only be destroyed but not defeated.” Therefore, I emphasized this idea at the very beginning of my piece. The imagery of a lion showed up repeatedly throughout my writing as an effort to prove the central idea. The old man’s mental processes and how they changed over time were described in my piece.

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