Back to 80: My Literary Life

In addition to the criticism from young students in Shanghai, the official media also officially joined in.

"China Youth Daily" opened a column "What has Wang Shuo brought to us" to discuss the "Wang Shuo phenomenon"

"What to Read from Wang Shuo's Novels" published by Guangming Daily said: "If literature is completely based on a commodity concept, it will inevitably damage the characteristics and spirit of art... turning literature into 'amusing and relieving boredom' , the tool of "spraying rice to explain Yi" will refuse to be profound, reject meaning and become kitsch."

Autumn in Yanjing seems to have come suddenly today.

An autumn rain fell just after the National Day, and the weather turned cold. Wang Shuo, who lived in the compound, soon felt the chill of autumn.

But Xijing is much hotter.

After several days of strong sunshine, people who had just put on their coats took off their coats one after another and put on short-sleeves and skirts, as if summer was coming again.

Another major event occurred in the literary world: On October 8, 1993, Gu Cheng, who was far away in New Zealand, hacked his wife Xie Ye to death with an ax in his apartment, and then hanged himself under a tree.

This news spread to China and shocked the entire literary world.

There was a newspaper in the capital with a big black frame on the second page of the headline, and the four characters that stood out were "The poet is dead."

When Fang Minghua saw this newspaper, it was Wang Zi who showed it to him.

Nothing happened this afternoon. Both children went to school. The nanny Li Xiaoqin was doing housework at home, and Fang Minghua was playing with a bunch of flowers and plants in the yard.

Li Xiaoqin works quickly and diligently. She cleans the entire house inside and outside, and basically takes care of all the housework.

But there were two things that Fang Minghua wouldn't let her do, so he did it himself.

One is the calligraphy and painting hall on the third floor. Fang Minghua personally cleans and organizes it. Li Xiaoqin does not have the key to the door. There are also flowers and plants in the yard.

This year Fang Minghua planted more than 20 pots of chrysanthemums in the yard. It is already autumn, and Fang Minghua is ready to repot them in preparation for winter and next year's growth.

Repotting is also a technical job, so Fang Minghua called Wang Zi to help.

Wang Zi has completely settled down in Xijing City. She and her boyfriend are on good terms, and they heard that they are planning to get married.

The girl was also a frequent visitor to Fang Minghua's house. In addition to asking Fang Minghua for advice on literature, she also planted grass and picked flowers.

However, Fang Minghua asked Wang Zi for advice on the latter.

Hearing the doorbell, Fang Minghua patted the dirt on his hands and went to open the door. He saw the girl standing at the door with a newspaper in her hand.

Before Fang Minghua could speak, Wang Zi handed him the newspaper: "Teacher Fang, Gu Cheng is dead!"

Fang Minghua took the newspaper, read it, said, "I got it." He handed the newspaper back to the girl, turned around and entered the yard.

Wang Zi was a little confused. Why was the teacher indifferent to this topic that shocked the entire literary world and even ordinary people in China?

Seeing Fang Minghua squatting down and playing with the flowerpots again, Wang Zi couldn't help but said: "Gu Cheng is dead. The newspapers used this reporting method. Teacher, you should know what it means, right?"

Fang Minghua looked up at her and smiled: "Of course I know, this is imitating the way the local newspapers reported after the death of the Russian poet Pushkin, right?"

"yes"

"But how did Pushkin die? He died in a duel with his love rival. It seems a bit stupid now, but at least he didn't harm others, right? How did Gu Cheng die? He hacked his wife to death and then committed suicide. He was a murderer. ah."

After hearing Fang Minghua's words, Wang Zi paused.

After a while, he said: "But, he is a poet, and his poems are very good. Teacher, I remember that you also like his poems very much, right?"

"Yes, I do, but that doesn't deny that he is a murderer." Fang Minghua replied and picked up the flowerpot again.

"Let me help you." Wang Zi hurriedly squatted down and carefully took out a chrysanthemum from the pot.

Then I started cleaning the roots, and within a few minutes, a pot of chrysanthemums was planted in a new pot.

"Just pour some more water. Pay attention and wait for the water to be sucked up before watering again." Wang Zi patiently instructed.

"Okay, I'll get the kettle."

When Fang Minghua brought the kettle and carefully watered the chrysanthemums in the new pot, Wang Zi couldn't help but ask: "Teacher Fang, many writers and poets in the literary world have published articles in memory of Gu Cheng, why don't you say a few words?"

"What did you say? That he was a murderer?" Fang Minghua asked.

"No, to commemorate his literary talent and contribution to the poetry world!" Wang Zi said.

"Since there are so many people commemorating him, do you still need me to say it?" Fang Minghua glanced at the girl lightly: "Everyone is mourning Gu Cheng now, but have they ever thought that he killed his wife Xie Ye? Who mourns Xie Ye? Xie Ye's mother How do you feel when you see so many people mourning the murderer of his daughter?”

Wang Zi was silent.

"So, any kind of condolences are inappropriate now. But people have died, and the dead are the most important. I don't want to say publicly about murderers, so I remain silent."

"Teacher Fang, your ideas are different from others."

"Then do you think what I said is right?"

"Yes!" The girl nodded.

"Okay then, bring that pot of flowers.

"Okay."

Two hours later, the turnover of more than 20 pots of chrysanthemums was completed. Fang Minghua looked at the two neat rows on the wooden frame next to the yard and felt a sense of accomplishment.

"Wang Zi, don't leave tonight, have dinner at my house." Fang Minghua said.

"No. I'm going to Ren Hao's place tonight." Wang Zi said.

Ren Hao is her boyfriend.

"Okay, then I won't keep you. Why are you getting married?" Fang Minghua asked with a smile.

"Well, it's tentatively scheduled for the twelfth lunar month. The specific time hasn't been decided yet. I have to go back to Shanghai to discuss it with my parents."

"Okay, if you need any help, just ask."

Not long after the girl left, the phone rang in the living room. Fang Minghua went to answer it. It was Bai Miao calling.

"Minghua, many writers and poets in the literary world are mourning Gu Cheng. Why don't you write one? Publish it in the essay column of "Yanhe"?"

"Me? Don't write."

"Why?"

"Wang Zi came to my house just now and asked me this question." Fang Minghua briefly recounted the conversation he had with Wang Zi just now.

On the other side of the phone, Bai Miao also fell into silence.

"Hey, none of you will write about it. Writers and poets from other provinces are talking about this matter, and writers from Qin Province have once again fallen into silence."

"Isn't this good? It shows that you have a conscience."

"But no one is submitting articles to me, and I can't get enough of this popularity." Bai Miao lamented on the phone.

"You write, you are also a writer, why don't you write?!"

"I?"

After a while, his voice came from the phone: "I also have to have a conscience."