My era, 1979!

Chapter 197 The "Xu Chengjun" Phenomenon in China (I'm not going to ask anymore, give it or not~)

While Xu Chengjun was making waves in Japan, his name was already resounding throughout China, gaining immense influence.

"The Box of Hope," published in Harvest magazine at the end of December, has become more than just a literary phenomenon, thanks to its unprecedented "dialogue between time and space" and its keen ability to accurately capture the pulse of the times. It has become a cultural storm sweeping the country.

In the streets and alleys, in factory workshops, and inside and outside campuses, people eagerly read and passionately discussed the letters from the "future" and their contemporary echoes.

The magazine was reprinted three times, but it was still hard to find a copy, and its price on the black market had increased several times over.

On January 5th, the very day Xu Chengjun flew to Japan, "The Music Box," published in "Shanghai Literature," was like a carefully crafted artistic bomb, once again igniting the literary world.

This work continues his superb narrative skills, but in terms of subject matter, it turns to a subtle and profound exploration of memory, time, and personal destiny. Its unique artistic temperament and emotional intensity have captivated countless readers.

These two works, which are very different in style but both are full of Xu Chengjun's personal characteristics, shine like twin stars, illuminating the Chinese literary scene in the early 1980s.

When news of Xu Chengjun's visit to Japan with a delegation and his exchanges with literary giants reached China via radio and newspapers, the "Xu Chengjun fever" reached its peak.

A homegrown genius writer not only caused a sensation in China, but his works also went abroad and were recognized and admired by Japan, a cultural powerhouse. In the early days of reform and opening up, this undoubtedly greatly inspired national pride and cultural confidence.

A young critic, unable to contain his admiration, wrote a poem in praise of it in the *Literary Gazette*:

Ode to the Army

The literary style of the capital is rugged and unyielding, while the power of the Chinese people is subdued by the pen.

Having broken through the barriers to reach beyond the borders, it has opened up a new world for people of this era.

The strange lights in the box illuminate the path ahead, while the subtle details on the strings trace back to the past.

Don't say that scholars only engage in empty talk; they are soaring eastward, reaching for the clouds!
The poem quickly spread among literary youths, adding to Xu Chengjun's legendary status.

Leaving aside "Hope," it has already sold out.

The editorial department of "Shanghai Literature" was completely overwhelmed by this unexpected happiness.

Li Ziyun, carrying a stack of newly arrived reprint requests and a deluge of reader letters, rushed into the editor-in-chief's office, abandoning all decorum and excitedly slamming his fist on the table:

"Holy crap! This Cheng Jun! He... he's going to take things to the heavens! 'The Music Box' has only been out for a few days! The first print run of 100,000 copies, and it's gone in three days! Just three days! Bookstores all over the country are calling the switchboard to chase up the orders! The printing presses are practically smoking! Old Zhou, our workload is skyrocketing!"

Jay Chou pushed up his thick glasses, his face filled with barely suppressed excitement and emotion. He carefully stroked the newly arrived magazine, as if it were some fragile treasure.

"Incredible, truly incredible! Ziyun, don't be so quick to complain about being tired. Look at this narrative, this structure, this language... 'The Music Box' may seem to be about the subtle nuances of personal memory, but it actually delves into the tremors and perseverance of the individual soul amidst the changes of an entire era. Comrade Chengjun is using his pen to 'summon the soul' of our time! Its significance cannot be measured by sales figures alone! However..."

He gave a wry smile. "The sheer volume of reader letters and requests for articles is indeed a bit frightening."

Ru Zhijuan listened to their conversation, a smile of satisfaction mixed with a hint of teasing appeared on her face, as if her own younger brother had made something of himself.
"Look at you two, one complaining of being tired, the other spouting off your erudition. If you ask me, Cheng Jun is a real troublemaker! Wherever he goes, he stirs up a storm! Not only did he turn the literary world upside down in China, but after only a few days abroad, I heard he's competing against some great scholars in Japan and even appeared on their TV, making all the girls there swoon."

She paused, then her tone shifted to genuine pride: "However, this 'trouble' was a good thing! It showcased the ambition and talent of Chinese writers! The soaring sales are a good thing; it shows that the people need such good works. A heavier workload is a sweet burden, after all! When that kid comes back, I'll definitely make him treat us to a good meal to reward us old folks who've been 'tortured' to the point of exhaustion!"

The three men's conversation was filled with exclamations of amazement, analysis, and banter, but it was all brimming with admiration for Xu Chengjun's talent and joy at his great success.

What truly made Xu Chengjun's name a sensation in China was an article published in the Wenyi Bao (Literary Gazette) by Li Xiaolin, who identified herself as Xu Chengjun's editor.

The Light Digger—Xu Chengjun in My Eyes! (This article was published in the "New Writers and New Works" column of the January 1980 issue of Wenyi Bao)
-

Xu Chengjun himself possesses unparalleled charm.

This charm is not flamboyant or overt, but a calm and steadfast radiance that flows from his deep eyes, emanates from his composed speech, and bursts forth from his series of stunning works.

From the heartfelt reflection on rural China in *The Granary*, to the bold exploration of the individual soul in *The Fitting Mirror*; from the somber and poignant historical narrative of *Red Silk*, to the fantastical vision of the future in *The Mailbox of Hope*; even the simple explorations of his early works like *Walking Towards the Light*, or the lively poetic sentiment of his casually composed *Foxtail Grass*… his creative trajectory is like a rushing river, sometimes deep, sometimes turbulent, but always heading in one direction—the light. I can feel in his words, in his thoughts, an almost instinctive pursuit and exploration of "light."

A young man from Dongfeng County, a small place in northern Anhui, has given birth to such a brilliant and outstanding person. I often wonder whether this is a gift from the times or a spiritual child that this ancient land is bound to give birth to after experiencing vicissitudes.
I remember the first time we met, he handed me his poem, "Foxtail Grass on the Hillside." At that time, he was still a young man bearing the marks of a sent-down youth, sitting quietly in a corner of the *Harvest* magazine editorial office. The handwriting on the manuscript was clear and strong, yet the verses were so tender they seemed to drip with water:
"When the wind blows, they bow their heads / Not in submission, but to tuck the sunlight / into their fuzzy pockets..."

At that moment, I seemed to see the hillside at dusk, and the young man, exhausted after finishing his farm work, dragging his body up the grassy slope, seeking solitude and creative inspiration amidst the swaying foxtail grass. He wove his sweat, blood, homesickness, and all his yearning for the future into those "fuzzy periods." It wasn't despair, but rather the tenacity to stubbornly "put roots into the silent earth" in the simplest labor and the most arduous environment, digging out light from the cracks of life.

Later, we discussed *The Fitting Mirror*. His insight that "the woman in the mirror is the real one, while the one in reality is just an act" astonished me with his keen observation and precise expression. He talked about Márquez, Borges, and even quoted Foucault's theories, which were still cutting-edge in China at the time. His broad thinking and extensive knowledge were completely unlike that of a young intellectual fresh from the countryside. When he said he wanted readers to see the suppressed parts of their lives, and to "tear away what binds people in this era," I understood that the core of his "magical" or "surreal" writing was still a fervent concern for reality. He unearthed the glimmers of individual lives obscured by the dust of the times, the unspoken desires deep within the hearts of the silent majority.

Later, "Red Silk" shook the literary world with its magnificent epic quality, and "The Box of Hope" opened up new narrative possibilities with its astonishing imagination. His vision expanded from personal fate to national history, and then to the unknown future. The "charm of seeing light" that he possessed also became increasingly grand and profound. He could not only see the sunlight in the foxtail grass, and see the repressed soul reflected in a cracked dressing mirror, but also salvage the brilliance of humanity from the smoke of history and perceive the dawn of the future from the pulse of the times.

Xu Chengjun hails from Dongfeng County, but his spiritual realm has long transcended geographical limitations. While his exceptional talent certainly plays a role in his success, more importantly, it stems from his unwavering curiosity and profound love for life, people, history, and the future. Like a tireless "light digger," he uses his inspired pen, regardless of his circumstances, to unearth hope, warmth, and the power to move forward in our era of dramatic change.

His appearance gives us reason to believe that the torch of literature is being revitalized in the hands of a new generation, and the future of Chinese literature is something to look forward to.

-

Once this article was published in the Literary Gazette, it immediately sparked a new round of discussion in literary circles.

Li Xiaolin, with her unique background and delicate writing style, provides the public with a highly persuasive and compelling perspective on Xu Chengjun, this "phenomenal" figure. The image of "the light digger" quickly became a frequently cited term when commenting on Xu Chengjun.

It's a hit! It's really a hit!
The name Xu Chengjun, like a thunderclap or an unstoppable spring tide, swept across the entire Chinese literary world.

From respected literary elders to aspiring young writers, it seems that if one doesn't discuss Xu Chengjun or analyze his works during casual conversations or seminars, one is out of touch with this rapidly changing era.

His past poems were unearthed from old papers and carefully read and analyzed.

"Walking Towards the Light," "Foxtail Grass," "Time," and "Look."
They even dug up the three-line love poem that Xi gave to Su Manshu from who knows where.

The short articles published in my personal column in the Anqing Daily, even just a few random thoughts, were eagerly circulated and copied by people.

The entire literary world seemed to be caught up in a collective frenzy and debate about the "Xu Chengjun phenomenon".

"The 'time-space dialogue' format of 'The Box of Hope' is simply a narrative revolution! It breaks our inherent linear thinking, allowing the future and the present to clash directly. This is truly literature with a concern for the future!"

A radical young critic waved his arms and his face flushed during the symposium.

The more focused and controversial discussion is about "The Music Box".

At a small seminar within the Writers' Association, several critics and writers engaged in a heated debate surrounding this slim collection of short stories.

"The character Chen Jianguo in 'The Music Box' is too complex and too 'gray'!"

An elderly critic wearing thick glasses frowned and tapped his fingers on the table. "He made a mistake when he was young in order to save his mother, and later spent his life silently making amends and 'atoneing' for it. The author neither portrayed him as a perfect hero nor simply criticized him as a sinner of the times."

"Such tolerance and profound depiction of the complexity of characters is rare in our past literature. It touches on the moral dilemma of individuals in the torrent of history, which requires great courage and writing skills!"

Another middle-aged writer was more interested in the novel's narrative techniques. He adjusted his glasses and asked with a tone of doubt and inquiry, "What kind of writing technique is this? Surrealism? Magical realism? Look at that description: in Chen Jianguo's memory, the old music box left by his mother suddenly started playing on its own on a rainy night, but it wasn't playing the usual melody; instead, it was a lullaby his mother used to hum when he was a child, a lullaby he himself had forgotten... This is obviously impossible in reality. Also, when he falls into repentance for the past, the surrounding scenery becomes distorted, and blurry light and shadow of the scenes of his past mistakes appear on the walls... This completely transcends the boundaries of realism!"

"I think it's more like a combination of symbolism and psychological realism!"

A young female critic interjected, her eyes shining, "The music box itself is a symbol, a vessel of memory, and a trigger for emotion. Those 'surreal' scenes are not the real magic of the external world, but rather an external projection of the characters' intense emotional fluctuations and deep sense of repentance!"

"Xu Chengjun wasn't trying to write a supernatural story; he delved into the depths of Chen Jianguo's soul and 'translated' those unspeakable, lifelong regrets, pains, and desires into such powerful imagery. It's a very skillful literary expression of 'inner vision'!"

The old critic shook his head: "The technique is certainly novel, but isn't it too focused on form? Literature must ultimately be rooted in solid ground. Will this style of writing create a barrier for ordinary readers, leaving them feeling confused? We still need to consider the popularization and educational function of literature."

"otherwise!"

Another supporter immediately countered, "It is precisely this 'estrangement' that reveals more profoundly the psychological trauma of the characters after being crushed by the times! It is more powerful than direct accusations or confessions! This is not a detachment from reality, but a deeper exploration and expression of reality! I think this can even be called an exploration of 'new psychological realism'!"

The debate was lively, with some expressing admiration, some confusion, some doubt, and others undisguised respect.

On the Fudan University campus, in the "Waves" literary society, the discussions were even more heated and direct.

Holding up "The Music Box," Lin Yimin excitedly told the members, "See this! The editor-in-chief is paving the way for us! Who says novels have to be written in the old ways? Expressing inner turmoil through fantastical external scenes—how exciting! This is what modern novels should be like!"

Xu Qian was more emotional: "When I read the part in 'The Music Box' where Chen Jianguo listens to the music box melody in his hallucination and silently sheds tears, I felt a tightness in my chest."

The editor-in-chief doesn't write stories; he writes about the deepest, unhealed wounds in people's hearts and the careful protection they take for granted. He shows us that history is not just a grand narrative, but also about individual people, burdened with heavy memories, struggling to move forward in the cracks of time.

Xu Demin pushed up his glasses and summarized: "Whether it is the future narrative of 'Hope' or the psychological exploration of 'Music Box', Cheng Jun has always been doing one thing—expanding the boundaries of our literature. He is telling us that the possibilities of literature are infinite, and the key is whether you have enough courage and talent to try."

Praise is not without its dissenting voices.

Some conservative voices have been circulating privately: "If you focus too much on technique, can you keep up with the depth of thought?"

"Won't this style of writing lead to a superficial trend?"

Some have even brought up the old tune of "formalism."

However, these controversial voices seem much weaker in the face of the widespread resonance and wave of reflection sparked by "The Music Box".

More and more people realize that Xu Chengjun's emergence not only signifies the sudden appearance of a genius writer, but also foreshadows a profound transformation in Chinese literature that is undergoing a deep and quiet change.

His works are like a boulder thrown into a lake, creating ripples that are constantly spreading and stirring up old literary concepts and creative paradigms.

Xu Chengjun, who is in Tokyo, Japan, is currently too preoccupied to pay attention to the comments about him in China.

Because "The House" has started airing.

(End of this chapter)