1978 Synthetic Writers

Chapter 61 The poet's mental state is not stable

In the northeastern part of Dongcheng District of Beijing, there is an area called "Dong 44 Tiao", which was called Xin Taicang South Gate in the Ming Dynasty, Wang Guafu Hutong in Qianlong period, and Hongri Road 14 Tiao.

The editorial office of Today is openly located here.

The area is not large. There is a coal stove in the center of the house connected to an earthen heating pipe, and piles of publications are piled on the cold stove.

"Look who's here."

"Huh? Teacher Jiang!"

Zhao Zhenkai dragged Jiang Xian into the house and poured him a cup of hot water.

Jiang Xian had never been to their base before, and it just so happened that there were a few new comrades in the editorial department.

Zhao Zhenkai then pulled him aside to introduce him to everyone, "Everyone, this is Jiang Xian, the writer who wrote The Chess King and Fierce Animals."

He introduced them to Jiang Xian: "This is Wan Zhi, this is Xu Xiao, and this is Yu Luojin."

In the circle of "Today", all the names are well-known without exception.

However, Jiang Xian noticed a boy sitting in the corner. Everyone else had been introduced except him. It was like he was doing performance art. In the middle of summer, he was wearing a "straight-tube" hat on his head. It looked more like a piece of the trouser leg cut from old jeans than a hat.

"Teacher Jiang, can you sign an autograph for me?" asked Cha Jianying, a volunteer from Yenching University.

"No problem." Jiang Xian took the pen and wrote a line of words, neatly and elegantly.

[I wish you academic progress. Jiang Xian, July 1979, 7, at Today Magazine.]
"Thank you, Teacher Jiang!"

"Using public power for personal gain, Jianying is too dishonest!"

"Teacher Jiang, I want it too."

"Please sign one for me too. I really like your work."

The other volunteers in the editorial department were all excited and swarmed over.

"Wait a moment." Zhao Zhenkai pulled Jiang Xian to his desk, took out a piece of letter paper for him, and filled his pen with ink for him. "Write it down right now, but don't make any mistakes. I can't wait to see it."

"Who is that person?" Jiang Xian didn't rush to write, but pointed at the boy in strange attire.

"Him? This kid's name is Gu Cheng." Zhao Zhenkai introduced him, "No matter who persuades him, he won't take off his hat. His sister said that an old foreign lady gave him a straight wool hat. He always wore it and it got torn. Then he suddenly had an idea and cut a piece of old jeans to wear on his head. He loved it very much.

Don't look at him like that, this child writes very good poems: 'The night gave me black eyes, but I use them to look for light', it's amazing, I say, this child was born for poetry."

"It's very good." Jiang Xian nodded and glanced at Gu Cheng curiously.

There are two recognized geniuses among modern poets. One is Haizi, who could recite Teachers' Quotations at the age of four and was admitted to Yenching University at the age of fifteen. The other is Gu Cheng, who wrote the poem "A Generation" with only two lines at the age of 23. As soon as this poem was published, it immediately won a large number of fans and established his literary status.

"You write first." Zhao Zhenkai left the table, took a sip of water, and moved closer to Gu Cheng. He was always serious, but he also liked to tease this kid, "Gu Cheng, pick it, it's so hot."

"Don't pick it."

"Why are you wearing this?"

Gu Cheng seemed to be in a good mood, muttering leisurely, "Sense of security, lightning rod, protective umbrella."

He is a spiritualist romantic poet, and his mental state is not very stable.

Studies have shown that 80% of writers have mental disorders, with poets having the highest rate at 87%, novelists at 77%, and playwrights at 74%.

When he pursued love and wanted to marry Xie Ye, Xie's family strongly opposed it because they suspected that Gu Cheng was mentally ill.

This suspicion was not groundless. It was said that when Gu Cheng was pursuing Xie Ye, he once moved a coffin and placed it at the door of Xie's house. He lay in it and said that if Xie Ye did not agree, he would lie there forever.

Later, Gu Cheng also cooperated and went to the psychiatric hospital for a checkup. It turned out that he knew more about psychology than the doctor. He talked to the doctor about Freud's psychoanalysis theory, which made the doctor dizzy. In the end, he gave the result that he was mentally normal. Jiang Xian held the pen, thought for a while, and wrote a long poem in one go.

"Old Zhao."

"Have you finished writing?" Zhao Zhenkai came over with an enamel cup and took out a pack of "Sanwu" brand cigarettes from his arms.

"Sanwu" brand cigarettes are smoked by cadres. Zhao Zhenkai is not a cadre, but the son of a cadre. His father is one of the founders of PICC, which is the Old People's Insurance Company of China. It is not the new PICC in later generations. The Old People's Insurance Company of China was divided into five in later generations: PICC, China Life, China Taiping, China Credit Insurance Corporation, and China Reinsurance.

There were only two cigarettes left. After handing them out, he put the empty cigarette box back into his arms and explained, "The neighbor's kids like to collect cigarette labels."

"You take a look first." Jiang Xian gave up his seat for him.

Zhao Zhenkai lit up a cigarette, picked up the letter on the table, and glanced at the first line of text -

[If I love you, I will never be like the trumpet creeper that climbs up and uses your high branches to show off itself]
Cicadas chirped in the yard and the tobacco burned out bit by bit.

Zhao Zhenkai brought the cigarette holder to his mouth twice and put it down twice, until the cigarette butt burned his hand, and then he threw the cigarette away in pain.

Not a single puff.

"Love? Love!" A strange color glowed on Lao Zhao's iconic bitter face.

His pupils flickered continuously, "Wanzhi, you should read it too."

"A poem written by Jiang Xian?"

Wan Zhi picked up the manuscript curiously and read a few lines. His sleepy eyes gradually brightened.

[
We share the cold wave, wind, thunder and lightning.

We share the mist, the clouds and the rainbow.

It's as if they are separated forever, but they are forever attached to each other.

This is great love, and this is where loyalty lies:
Love--

I not only love your tall and majestic body,
I also love the place where you insist on, the land under your feet.]
Wan Zhiteng stood up immediately. "What a great poem! The waves crash against the shore! I have never read a poem like this before!"

It's no wonder he reacted like this.

In the 80s, "To the Oak Tree" was a national love poem. Everyone was copying this poem, and all literary young people would recite this poem at their weddings.

It can be said with certainty that in the 80-year history of the development of modern Chinese poetry, "To the Oak" is the best love poem, bar none.

The name of "To the Oak" was changed by Ai Qing. It was originally called "Oak". It is said that Ai Qing never copied other people's poems, but after reading this poem, he copied it into his notebook.

The rest of the editorial staff came over and asked to look at the manuscript of "To the Oak Tree".

"It's definitely not like a trumpet creeper, and it's definitely not like a bird, it's so beautiful."

"It's a little different from the poetry school we have today. It's a bit lyrical. Mandarin Duck and Butterfly School?"

"Teacher Jiang can even write poetry so well? It's so delicate!"

"To the Oak Tree" was finally circulated to Gu Cheng.

Gu Cheng, who was only 1.65 meters tall, bent over the table and read the poem, with a bright light flashing in his eyes.

“This poem is so beautiful.”

He grabbed Jiang Xian's arm and said, "I like you. Come to my house and I'll make dumplings for you."

(End of this chapter)