Back to 80: My literary life.

Chapter 723 Defending Poetry?

"Hey, Minghua, why don't you speak?" Li Tuo and Fang Minghua sat together and asked in a low voice.

Fang Minghua was holding a cup of coffee and just took a sip. When he heard what Li Tuo said, he smiled and asked back, "Didn't you say anything either?"

"I only do literary criticism of novels and essays, and I don't do much research on poetry," Li Tuo replied.

Then what are you doing here?

Fang Minghua was a little confused but didn't want to ask directly.

Li Tuo seemed to have guessed his thoughts and said with a smile, "As for me, Bing Ling invited me to join in the fun. It's also very happy to be with a group of domestic literary people, listen to them speak Chinese and talk about familiar literature. Of course, Boss Liu's coffee tastes good too."

He raised his coffee cup and took a sip.

Of course the coffee is good, it seems to be Blue Mountain coffee.

only

Am I so lonely?
Finally, Bei Dao also spoke in a professional manner. He pointed out that the decline of poetry is reflected in the disconnection between words and objects, as well as the isolation of poetry from the real world, which has caused poetry to lose its original function of social criticism and cultural inheritance.

Fang Minghua listened carefully and felt that what he said made sense.

If a literary genre, whether it is a novel, poetry, essay, etc., loses its two major functions of social criticism or cultural inheritance, it basically becomes something dispensable.

Or it can no longer be called literature.

Some people spoke in the morning and Bingling was still taking notes. In his words, a summary of the interviews would be published later, whether it was published in "Today" hosted by Bei Dao or "Eastern Magazine" hosted by Chinese.

For lunch, the villa's owner Liu Junjie prepared a Taiwanese specialty dish for everyone - Taiwanese braised pork rice.

Scoop half a spoonful of rice, soak it in the mixed marinade, then put a piece of braised meat into your mouth. It tastes fresh, sweet, fragrant and glutinous.

Everyone was eating casually, each holding a bowl and sitting down anywhere. Fang Minghua was sitting alone on a chair, and just after finishing his bowl, he saw Bing Ling coming over with a bowl. She sat next to him and asked:
"Minghua, why didn't I see you talking this morning?"

"You know, I just write novels and do very little research on poetry." Fang Minghua was very humble.

"Isn't that right? I remember that you were once the deputy editor-in-chief of Yanhe magazine in charge of poetry, and you also published several articles on poetry theory, one of which was called "Poetic Imagery in the Post-Misty Poetry Era", which was very forward-looking."

Ah?
This guy has a good memory.

That was in 84. I had just taken office as deputy editor in charge of the poetry group. I published a special issue on college student poetry in Yanhe magazine, rejecting the colloquial poetry that was becoming popular in the poetry world at that time.

As a result, Shang Zhongmin, a student from Chongqing University, was not convinced and actually skipped school to go to Xijing to argue with Fang Minghua. The two then held an open debate on poetry at Northwest University.

This is the topic that Fang Minghua talked about.

Come to think of it, that era was indeed full of passion.

Now that Bingling suddenly brought up the past, Fang Minghua didn't know what to say, so he just smiled and said.

"Okay, I'll say a few words during the discussion this afternoon."

After the meal, everyone took a break and then the salon activities continued.

"Minghua, say something." Bing Ling began to call out names directly. Fang Minghua put down his coffee cup and said, "Okay, then I'll talk about my personal opinion."

"Just now I heard Duoduo mention "In Defense of Poetry" published by Canadian poet Slote at the Rotterdam International Poetry Festival. It reminded me of a short poem written by Polish poet Adam Zagajewski, which I guess everyone has heard of."

Fang Minghua finished speaking and began to recite:
In Defense of Poetry, Etc.

Yes, in defense of poetry, high style, etc.,

But also defending a small town on a summer evening,

Where the garden smells fragrant and the cat sits quietly

The steps in front of the door are like Chinese philosophers.

The living room was quiet as everyone listened to Fang Minghua recite the poem.

"What I want to say is that when poetry is called upon to be protected, it means that some people still regard it as a precious cultural style, but it also shows a mentality of begging for sympathy from society." Fang Minghua first analyzed it, and then changed the subject:
"But I don't think it's necessary. As a form of human spiritual activity, I believe that poetry will be a spiritual necessity for some people in any era. Because it is the only one that can convey the inner activities of human beings when facing some specific events in its own unique form. It is for this reason that poets should be arrogant."

Fang Minghua's words immediately caused everyone in the living room to whisper.

"Minghua, let me interrupt for a moment." The speaker was the woman sitting by the fireplace warming herself by the fire, Zhai Yongming.

Fang Minghua had met her once in 90. Fang Minghua went to Sichuan Province to attend Zhou Keqin's funeral on behalf of the Qin Province Writers Association. Later, he found Shang Zhongmin, who invited him to have hotpot and invited a former poet to join him, including Zhai Yongming, who had just returned from the United States.

But at that party, no one talked about poetry.

Now hearing Zhai Yongming's interruption, Fang Minghua stopped and smiled.

Zhai Yongming said: "According to you, since you think poetry does not need to be protected, should we just stand by and watch it decline naturally?"

This is a bit sharp.

Everyone looked at Fang Minghua.

Fang Minghua smiled, drank his coffee, and suddenly said to Bei Dao who was sitting in the corner: "Teacher Bei Dao, do you remember that in 80, Contemporary magazine held a poetry writing competition?"

"Remember." Bei Dao's serious face showed a hint of smile, and continued:

"That time, your poems, as well as those of Shu Ting, Gu Cheng, and me all won awards, but I can't remember what poems they were."

"Well, I remember that you wrote "Rainy Night", Shu Ting wrote "Hui'an Woman", Gu Cheng wrote "I am a Willful Child", and I wrote a short poem called "Premonition"

"Yes, it seems so." Bei Dao agreed.

Fang Minghua did not answer Zhai Yongming's question, but suddenly started talking about the past with Bei Dao. Everyone was a little surprised, but no one interrupted them and just listened to them talking about the past.

"At the award ceremony, the host, Zhang Zhong'e, deputy editor-in-chief of Contemporary magazine, asked the winners to speak about their views on poetry, but I declined."

"That's right, Editor-in-Chief Zhang is a little disappointed because you were the youngest among the winning contestants at that time." Bei Dao said with a smile.

"In fact, I had prepared a speech, but I felt it was a bit inappropriate at the time because my speech was very pessimistic. Seeing everyone enthusiastically discussing the bright future of poetry, I didn't want to pour cold water on everyone. But today I want to tell you the main content of my speech!"

(End of this chapter)