1978 Synthetic Writers

Chapter 298 A Big Thing

Today is a weekday, and the yard of No. 2 Shatan North Street is bustling with people.

Cui Daoyi parked his bicycle in the bicycle shed, greeted his colleagues from the Writers Association one by one, and then went into the earthquake shelter.

He put his briefcase on the table, wiped the table with a rag first, then went to get a thermos of hot water to make a cup of hot tea. His colleagues from People's Literature held out their cups to him for water, and Cui Daoyi poured them some.

"Lao Cui, what's the good news?" the female editor from the theory group joked.

Another editor, Xiao Yueting, followed suit: "It's obvious that they are receiving good manuscripts."

Cui Daoyi did not hide it and revealed directly: "I want a new manuscript from Jiang Xian."

"Jiang Xian?" Xiao Yueting smiled and said, "What a coincidence, I also have all Jiang Xian's manuscripts here."

"What manuscript?" Cui Daoyi frowned.

He often went to Jiang Xian's house during this period, but he didn't see him write any new manuscripts.

"Old Xiao is talking about the manuscript related to Jiang Xian."

Another editor explained: "Ever since Jiang Xian proposed the slogan 'seeking roots,' our theory group has been discussing the term 'root-seeking literature'."

"Look at this one."

Xiao Yueting held up a manuscript and said, "This is an article by Shaanxi writer Jia Pingwa.

The writer Jia Pingwa believes that the traditional Chinese aesthetic should be used to truly express the lives and emotions of the Chinese people.

In the past period of time, in the field of literary and artistic theory research, many young writers and critics have raised the issue of cultural roots when discussing recent creative phenomena.

These discussions clearly have an important common point, that is, based on Jiang Xian's "Return to National Tradition, Return to Real Language", they believe that Chinese literature should be based on broad and profound "cultural exploration" in order to dialogue with "world literature".

Not only Jia Pingwa, who became famous in Shaanxi, published his article.

Han Shaogong, a writer who won the "National Excellent Novel" award, also published a paper entitled "The Roots of Literature."

In addition, Zheng Yi, who wrote "Old Well", published "Crossing the Cultural Fault Zone", Zheng Wanlong, deputy editor-in-chief of "October" magazine, published "My Roots", and some young writers like Li Hangyu's "Sort Out Our Roots" and A Cheng's "Culture Constrains Humanity", etc.

Even Yang Lian, a poet of the Misty School, proposed the idea of ​​"seeking the roots of poetry."

It can be said that after Jiang Xian first shouted the slogan of "seeking roots", the awareness of cultural root-seeking is gradually rising.

A large group of young literary and artistic workers spoke out in response, and these voices converged into a new literary force, setting off a new literary trend.

The theoretical community has given these people a name: "root-seeking group."

"What is the meaning of searching for roots?"

An old editor of People's Literature didn't quite understand. "We don't even have time to cut off the poisonous root of traditional culture, so what are we looking for?"

Several young editors, including Cui Daoyi, did not say a word.

They could hear that the editor was a little emotional.

"Let's not talk about 'root-seeking literature', Jiang Xian really stole the show this time." Xiao Yueting couldn't help but sigh.

"Yes." Another editor nodded. "It is true that 'root-seeking literature' is controversial, but it has indeed become a literary trend. It just lacks some representative works based on this theory."

“Representative works.”

Cui Daoyi smiled mysteriously, "Maybe there will be one soon."

Xiao Yueting quickly responded, "Are you talking about the manuscript of Jiang Xian that you have?"

Cui Daoyi did not answer.

Xiao Yueting was delighted and raised her head to look at Cui Daoyi quietly.

Cui Daoyi felt that the look was wrong, "If you have something to say, just say it."

"If you have finished reviewing the manuscript, please lend it to me."

"That's not okay. It's against the rules."

"Hey, don't be stingy."

Xiao Yueting said with resentment, "It's fine if you tell others this, but we're all from People's Literature, so what's against the rules?"

"Then wait until I finish reviewing the manuscript." Cui Daoyi said, "Reviewing a manuscript is a big deal, and revising a manuscript is an even bigger deal. If you want to read it, we can talk about it later."

"alright."

Xiao Yueting pursed her lips.

Cui Daoyi returned to the studio, sat at his desk, made some hot tea, and then took out the thick stack of manuscripts from his briefcase and placed them neatly on the table. The first line of the first page read:

"Red Sorghum!"

According to the normal process, the editor-in-chief would review the manuscript step by step after receiving it, but Cui Daoyi obviously couldn't wait for the editor-in-chief to review it, and now he was eager to finish reading the novel.

He took a sip of water and scanned the beginning while drinking to see if Jiang Xian had made any changes to the beginning content.

There are quite a lot of changes, but they basically do not affect the direction of the novel's overall plot.

Cui Daoyi looked at it and soon saw the place he saw last time.

This part talks about Uncle Luohan. Luohan is the long-term worker of Dai Fenglian's family. According to legend, he had an affair with Dai Fenglian. As to whether he had an affair or not, Jiang Xian said that there were recollections from elderly ladies in the village because that was the rumor at the time, but there was no solid evidence and it was impossible to find out.

The time narrative of "Red Sorghum" is quite superb, and the language is always jumping in time and space.

Soon it was the 27th year of the Republic of China, when the Japanese brought their puppet troops to the village to capture civilians to pull mules and horses.

The people's servants are the people's husbands.

Uncle Luohan said, "Brothers, let's talk it over. Let's talk it over."

The big puppet soldier said, "Get out of the way, you old beast."

Uncle Luohan said, "This is the owner's animal. You can't pull it."

The puppet soldiers said, "If you make any more noise, we will kill you, my brother-in-law!"

The Japanese saw that Dai Fenglian was pretty and had evil intentions towards her, but Dai Fenglian pretended to be crazy and stupid and escaped.

But the two big mules at home could not be saved, and the mules did not listen to the Japanese, so the puppet army asked Luohan to take the two mules to the construction site.

Of course, there is no return.

Not only the mule but also Mr. Arhat.

Uncle Luohan was moving stones at a construction site when the supervisor on the site beat him with a rattan stick until he was covered in blood.

"Sir, why did you hit me?"

The officer shook the cane in his hand and said with a smile, "I'll teach you a lesson, you son of a bitch."

Uncle Luohan was choking with anger, his eyes blurred with tears. He picked up a large stone from the pile of rocks and staggered towards the small bridge.

The overseer stood still, leaning on a cane.

Uncle Luohan carried stones and walked past him timidly.

The supervisor hit Uncle Luohan's neck with the cane again.

Uncle Luohan fell forward, hugged the big rock, and knelt on the ground. The rock smashed his hands and his chin was bruised by the rock.

He was beaten so badly that he was at a loss and started crying like a child.

When Cui Daoyi saw this, his brows couldn't help but frown.

This group of traitors "does not hit the diligent, does not hit the lazy, only hits the blind."

Just because Luohan didn't deliver anything, he was beaten to death.

Luohan was stubborn. He refused to give anything and could not endure the beating, so he tried to escape.

When he fled, he did not forget the two big mules at home, and returned just for the mules. Unexpectedly, the well-fed mules could not recognize him covered in blood, and turned left and right angrily to protect their territory, and hit Uncle Luohan on the hip with a hoof.

"What a pair of beasts!" Uncle Luohan was furious.

He found a sharp shovel and dug hard at the hind legs of a black mule.

The injured mule raised its butt high, and a stream of hot blood splattered like raindrops, dripping all over Uncle Luohan's face.

Uncle Luohan took advantage of the opportunity and hit the mule's other hind leg.

The black mule sighed and suddenly sat on the ground. The other black mule looked at its collapsed companion stupidly and wailed as if crying and begging for mercy.

Uncle Luohan held the shovel flat and moved towards it.

It backed away with all its might, the reins were almost pulled apart, the wooden stakes made crackling sounds, and dark blue light flowed in its fist-sized eyes.

"Are you scared, you beast? Where's your dignity?"

"You beast! You are an ungrateful, treacherous bastard! You are a traitor who is colluding with foreign countries!"

Over there, dogs were barking and people were making noises. It was daybreak, and a blood-red sun shone from the sorghum fields in the east. The sunlight shone directly on the half-open black mouth of Mr. Luohan.
Cui Daoyi felt a sense of generosity and pleasure as he watched Luohan's angry curse.

"Good scolding!" He couldn't help but clapping his hands in approval.

Jiang Xian's words really touched his heart.

Aren’t these traitorous bastards nothing but mules?

No, not even as good as a mule!
Cui Daoyi continued to look back, and a tragedy at the hitching post began.

In order to build a road, the Japanese looted all the mules and horses in the village, but Uncle Luohan injured the mules' hooves and legs countless times with his shovel. After he was captured, the Japanese were furious and wanted to skin Uncle Luohan on the hitching post for public display.

On this day, the sun had just risen above the tops of the sorghum when several old, weak, women and children in the village were driven to the place where mules and horses were tied, which later became a disgrace.

At first, Yu Zhan'ao and Dai Fenglian didn't recognize Uncle Luohan because he was beaten to a bloody mess.

The blood scab on the top of his head was like the smooth mud that had settled on the beach after a flood. It was exposed to the sun, with wrinkles and cracks on the edges.

The person doing the work was Sun Wu, a famous pig butcher in Northeast Township.

"The lady said, if you don't peel it well, the wolfhounds will rip your stomach out."

Sun Wu nodded repeatedly and blinked his eyelids urgently.

An overseer brought another bucket of water from the river. Sun Wu used a rag to dip into the water and cleaned Uncle Luohan. He twisted his butt and said, "Big Brother."

Uncle Luohan said, "Brother, stab me with your knife. I will never forget your kindness in my afterlife."

The Japanese officer roared.

The translator said: "Hurry up!"

Sun Wu's face changed, he stretched out his stubby fingers, pinched the old man's ear, and said, "Brother, there is nothing I can do."

Sun Wu's knife was sawing like sawing wood. Uncle Luohan was screaming wildly and a stream of burnt yellow urine was oozing out from between his legs.

A Japanese soldier holding a white porcelain plate walked by and stood next to Sun Wu. Sun Wu put Uncle Luohan's fat and thick ear on the porcelain plate, and then cut off the other one and put it into the plate.

The two ears of the Arhat jumped lively in the porcelain plate, making the plate tinkle.
"Little Japanese, I'll fuck your ancestors." Cui Daoyi's eyes turned red.

Cui Daoyi believes that such a heartless and inhumane scene is definitely not something fictionalized by Jiang Xian, but something that has actually happened countless times in history.

He finished reading the latter part with almost blurred vision.

The translator said, "Peel it quickly!"

Sun Wu held the knife in his hand and walked up to Uncle Luohan, one step higher and one step lower.

Uncle Luohan cursed loudly, and everyone raised their heads amid his curses.

Sun Wu cried and said, "Brother, please bear with it."

Uncle Luohan spat a mouthful of blood and phlegm onto Sun Wu's face.

"Peel it off, f**k your ancestors, peel it off!"

Sun Wu held the knife and started peeling off the wound on the top of Uncle Luohan's head.

Sun Wu no longer looked like a human. His knife skills were so delicate that he could peel off a piece of skin completely. The women all knelt on the ground, crying loudly.
Cui Daoyi spent a whole day to finish reading the novel "Red Sorghum".

The moment he closed the manuscript and withdrew from that fiery world, he recalled Zhang Shouren's evaluation of Red Sorghum:

This is a murderous novel!

exactly.

When Cui Daoyi read it, a strong feeling ran through it from the beginning to the end.

Apart from the scene where the Arhat was skinned, what shocked Cui Daoyi the most was the scene where Dai Fenglian and Yu Zhan'ao had an affair in private. It was not only "heresy" but also "treason".

But was Dai Fenglian wrong?
Take the questioning she gave before her death.

"What is chastity? What is righteousness? What is goodness? What is evil?"

It was wrong for Dai Fenglian and Yu Zhan'ao to have an affair in the sorghum field, but was it right for her to obey her parents' orders and marry a leper?
There is also the ending of the novel, which is always interspersed between memories and ongoing events. At the end, there is a passage written by Jiang Xian:

"I would like to use this article to call upon the heroic and wronged souls wandering in the endless red sorghum fields. I am your unworthy descendant. I would like to dig out my heart that has been pickled in soy sauce, chop it into pieces, put it in three bowls, and place it in the sorghum fields. I hope you will enjoy it! Enjoy it!"

Cui Daoyi could feel Jiang Xian's strong dissatisfaction and reflection.

In the novel, the grandfather-generation heroes created by Jiang Xian all have distinct personalities like sorghum, and they dare to love and hate.

But now, this character seems to have degenerated.

The people's character lacks courage and is weak.

Jiang Xian then expressed his feeling that he no longer had the heroic spirit and that he felt ashamed to be an unworthy descendant.

Cui Daoyi thought for a while, took a nap, and then read the novel "Red Sorghum" again with various insights.

When reading it for the second time, Cui Daoyi was savoring the flavor of the novel as if he was drinking a glass of sorghum wine.

"The boundless sorghum is as red as a vast sea of ​​blood. The sorghum is magnificent, the sorghum is full of love, and the sorghum is sad and lovely."

"'Gaoliang and Gaomi are glorious', this sentence is really amazing!" Cui Daoyi couldn't help but sigh.

It seems ungrammatical, but it makes sense.

“How come you write so well?”

Cui Daoyi couldn't help but admire him.

The bizarre imagination, vivid language, full vitality and bold personal consciousness displayed by Jiang Xian in this novel together constitute the powerful and shocking momentum of "Red Sorghum".

That day, Xiao Yueting came to Cui Daoyi again to ask for the manuscript.

Cui Daoyi was unwilling to give it to her, "I don't have time, I'm in a hurry to publish this novel."

Although Jiang Xian told him that he would revise the novel after he returned from the south.

But Cui Daoyi couldn't wait to dedicate this "Red Sorghum" to his readers.

"Publish? Just publish after the manuscript has been revised?" Xiao Yueting was puzzled.

"What's there to change?"

Cui Daoyi held the manuscript in her hands and said, "Such a brilliant language, in my opinion, it is okay not to change it."

Xiao Yueting couldn't help but argue, "Didn't you say that reviewing a manuscript is a big deal, and revising a manuscript is a big deal?"

"Did I say that?"

Cui Daoyi said earnestly:
"Xiao Xiao, as editors, we must be flexible in our work thinking."

(End of this chapter)