ethereal wings

In memory of past guests

Nostalgia for the old guest

That spring.

When Descartes stepped into the main office of the United Association of Indigenous Individuals of the Common Memoirs of Human Beings located in the main building of the Italian Pavilion, he found himself in a huge studio.Through the air filled with turpentine and color oil, he came to a huge mural.A handsome and slender young man saw Descartes coming, and jumped down lightly from the scaffolding.

"A Renaissance version of The School of Athens?" Descartes looked up at the familiar dome, and the figures in the center of the picture were the three masters of the Renaissance.

"It was originally like this, but later it evolved into a commemoration of the 1450-1650 association, anteilluminationem, or the eve of the bright century," Raphael said with his head sideways, his eyes flickering, "Look here. ...Although it is still a semi-finished product with only turpentine on it, I believe you can tell that this is you, Mr. Descartes." Following his brush, Descartes saw familiar faces and expressions.

"You seem to have painted Mr. Descartes too old," a deep voice came from behind the studio door, Da Vinci walked in, and he stopped in front of the mural. "It seems that your layout is a little unbalanced. Why don't you draw another figure sitting next to Mr. Descartes, and this figure will come to us before the autumn. René?"

Descartes looked at Da Vinci. "You have not done a reception task in 12 years as the curator of the French Pavilion, and this autumn you will face it for the first time - of course we will provide assistance, you can just watch from the sidelines - I am sure you must also want to know yourself How did we get here. Of course, many of us are unwilling to face such a sight..." Da Vinci continued, "It's 1762, maybe you remember a century ago this year , your French compatriot Blaise Pascal has passed away. The thing before me, and the reason why I have brought you here to meet me today, is to ask you to furnish a room for Mr. Pascal. As a contemporary, I believe that you understand the French life style in the mid-17th century better than us old people. From now to August, there is still plenty of time."

"I understand, sir," replied Descartes, "is this room in...?"

"I think it would be better to choose the big room with the fireplace next to your bedroom."

*****************************************************

Descartes is sitting on a simple wooden chair, more appropriately, sitting on the edge of a construction site.A book of biography was splayed across his lap.

"On June 1623, 6, born in Clermont, Voigne, central France. His mother died; he suffered from lung disease and suffered all his life."

"In 1634, at the age of 11, he wrote "On Sound" inspired by the problem of the sound of the dinner plate."

"Do you really think that these contemporary scientific writings need to be placed? Here are the Theory of Light, The Mathematical Principles of Natural Philosophy... I think Mr. Pascal sees these unheard of but certainly the most outstanding Your book will be crazy." Harvey glanced at the books in the box and sighed.

"Scientists should keep pace with the times, don't you and I do the same?" Galileo put all the books on the bookshelf regardless of Harvey's obstruction.

"Of course I understand what that means, but I think we should take Mr. Pascal's poor health into account," said Harvey eagerly. "Put these books in his bedroom, by his bedside, and you You can imagine how many days he will sleep without rest..."

In the decoration of the new bedroom, Descartes didn't have to worry at all, because everyone's enthusiasm was unimaginable.Fortunately, the size of this room is so huge, otherwise it would be difficult to accommodate the things sent by everyone and so many people who came here.He refocused on the biography:

"In 1639, at the age of 16, he wrote a mathematical paper "On Conic Sections", proposed the hexagonal theorem, joined the French Royal Mathematics Group, and sent the paper to Descartes."

He couldn't help but think of the astonishment when he received the paper back then. He exclaimed how it could have been written by a 16-year-old child...

"In 1642, at the age of 19, he designed an adding machine and could do hundreds of operations."

"The instruments are so cluttered...can I move this mercury barometer away from the bed? Mercury is bad for you, you know..." From the bedroom Came the voice of Copernicus.Torricelli objected to this. He thought that the temperature change would be too large if placed by the window.

Descartes obviously didn't have to do anything, he continued to look at the chronology:

"In 1647, at the age of 24, he suffered a stroke and was treated by Jinjing. He met with Descartes to discuss the problem of vacuum."

The only vacuum is in your head!He shouldn't have said those insults to Pascal.A short but impressive meeting, that young man whose body and spirit are almost two extremes...

"In 1651, at the age of 28, his father died of illness. There was a dispute over the handling of the inheritance and dissuading his sister Jacqueline from entering the monastery."

"In 1654, at the age of 31, he proved the existence of a vacuum and denied the theory that nature fears a vacuum that began in the Aristotle era. In the same year, he had a car accident, and since then he lived in a monastery, left the secular world, and fell into the abyss of religious fanaticism of asceticism and abstinence .”

"There are some literary works on this bookshelf...Do contemporary works need so many? There is even Voltaire's "Philosophical Letters"...! Mr. Pascal saw No.20 Five Letters" You will definitely faint when you talk about Mr. Pascal's "Thoughts"..." Rabelais pointed to the book.

"He may complain that the editor of "Thoughts" did not properly handle his materials behind him..." Dante walked over quietly, melancholy, "need some religious books..."

"35 years old, severe toothache."

"39 years old, colic."

"On August 1662, 8, died of illness at the age of 19."

Descartes was looking at the last few lines when suddenly a child's voice sounded in the room, "The bed and desk should be closer to the fire; the curtains need to be thicker..." The voice was very faint because of his frailty, but Descartes caught the speaker at once.

"Monsieur Descartes..." The child came up to him, his black shaggy hair hanging down his cheeks, and his hands were gloved to cover some of the burn marks, "I want to replace Nicholas Cobers." Mr. Ni apologizes... because of me, he often leaves without saying goodbye..."

"Don't think so, Mr. Bruno." Descartes said hastily.At this time, Copernicus came over and put a cloak on Bruno Jr., "Giordano, don't run around, you will catch a cold without a coat. —Mr. Descartes?"

Descartes looked at this harmonious family scene in a daze.Pascal's pain faded in his mind, replaced by the pain of his own past.A child...he once had a child, a little girl with his hair and eyes...how cute she was, lively and innocent...until one day she lay purple in his arms, tortured by scarlet fever Li swallowed her breath, that year, she was only 5 years old.

Her name is France.

In the next period of time, the figure of the little girl lingered in Descartes' mind all the time. The more vivid her laughter was, the deeper Descartes' pain became.He continued his research on the materialized individual of the memoir, hoping to get rid of this illusion, but to no avail.Finally, one night in August of that year, another great stimulus pulled him out of his grieving role as a bereaved father.That is, he was finally going to host Blaise Pascal.

☆、In everything I seek rest