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一个盛夏黄昏,上海喧闹的西藏南路旁边的一所老房子。沿着昏暗陡峭的楼梯拾级而上,笔者走进了“笔名大王”陈玉堂的家。老人已年近八十,虽然事先已看到过照片,但他的清癯还是令我有些吃惊。“是老乡啊,快请坐”,老人的热情使我很快摆脱了拘束感。 “我住在这里50年了,这个房子差不多也有100年了,据说是红顶商人胡雪岩后代的。这间临街房子,汽车喇叭声不断传来,不过外边再闹,我耳朵听不见。”老人说,“听见也无所谓,还是照写我的书。”这口气颇有些“结庐在人境,而无车马喧”的境界。
An old house next to the noisy South Tibet Road in midsummer, Shanghai. Along the dim steep stairs up the stairs, the author went into the “pseudonym” Chen Yutang’s home. The old man has been nearly 80 years old. Although he had seen the pictures in advance, his cleansing still surprised me. “Is a fellow, ah, please sit,” the enthusiasm of the elderly so I quickly get out of the sense of restraint. “I live here for 50 years, this house is almost 100 years, is said to be the red top businessman Hu Xueyan descendants of this street houses, car horn constantly coming, but the outside noisy, my ears can not hear.” The elderly Said, “It does not matter to hear, or write my book.” This tone is quite a bit “Jie Lu in the human environment, and no car Ma noisy” realm.