The literary era since 1979

Chapter 225: Enlightenment in the Morgue

"Clap clap clap."

The opening ceremony ended amidst rounds of applause.

Taking the opportunity of adjourning the meeting, Redology researchers from all over the world got to know each other and learn from each other.

As long as they are from the same school, even if they are complete strangers, they will become close to each other as soon as they meet.

The entire Redology Society is like the Five Mountains Sword Sect. Although they are of the same blood, there are numerous factions within it, and it is difficult to sort out.

It is roughly divided into four schools: the criticism school, the textual research school, the allegorical search school, and the creation school. Each school, like the Sword School and the Qi School of the Huashan School, has several branches.

People like Shen Yanbing and Wu Zuxiang are the big names in the commentary circle, while Fang Yan is also a young player in the commentary circle.

Feng Qiyong is the leader of the textual research school, which is the largest school in the study of the Dream of the Red Chamber and has a status equivalent to that of the Songshan School.

At this time, he brought his disciple Ling Jiefang and took the initiative to come to Wu Zuxiang and Fang Yan and greeted them.

"Mr. Fang, nice to meet you."

Ling Jiefang held his hand and shook it gently.

"No, no, it's my honor too."

The dialect is not entirely about politeness.

Isn’t this person in front of you “Er Yue He”?

He is the author of the Qing Dynasty trilogy, "The Reign of Kangxi", "The Reign of Yongzheng" and "The Reign of Qianlong"!
Isn't this just jumping into General Fang's bowl?

Seeing the two of them exchange a few pleasantries, Feng Qiyong smiled and said, "Speaking of accepting him, it was also a coincidence."

After hearing the dialect, I learned that Ling Jiefang had submitted articles to the Journal of Dream of Red Mansions Studies many times, but basically all his submissions fell on deaf ears and there was no response. Finally, after repeated failures, he wrote to Feng Qiyong to "ask for an explanation" and attached his own paper on Dream of Red Mansions.

"What did the letter say?"

Wu Zuxiang asked his old friend with great interest.

"Speak for yourself."

Feng Qiyong glanced at Ling Jiefang, who said boldly, "I said, 'Redology belongs to the people, not to Redologists. If Mr. Feng thinks I'm not cut out for this, please write back. I won't waste my time on Dream of the Red Chamber anymore.'"

Wu Zuxiang smiled and said, "Xiao Fang, what do you think?"

"Old Wu."

Fangyan raised his eyebrows and agreed very much with the statement that "Redology belongs to the people, not to Redologists."

For example, Lin Daiyu uprooted a weeping willow tree.

"Although your disciple is bold, what he said is not false."

Wu Zuxiang asked: "Dream of Red Mansions does not belong to a few people, but to the masses. Everyone has the right to express their own opinions. Take Xiao Fang for example. He did not follow the usual path this time and wrote an article commenting on it from the perspective of magical realism narrative."

"Brother Ruchang showed me his manuscript."

Feng Qiyong glanced at Ling Jiefang and saw that his face was full of expectation and curiosity. "Jiefang, take out your paper."

Fangyan understood what he meant and took out the supplement of "October" from his briefcase. They exchanged their works with each other.

"In the next few days, you two should have a good exchange."

Feng Qiyong looked at Fangyan on the left and at Ling Jiefang on the right.

"Sure, Mr. Feng."

Fang Yan nodded and watched the two of them leave.

As soon as he left the venue, Ling Jiefang went straight to Hengshan Hotel, sat on the bed, and flipped through the supplement of "October".

Along the way, Feng Qiyong received constant praise for the dialect, which further aroused his curiosity.

Turning to the first part, important information about this year's Nobel Prize in Literature and the article "What is Magical Realism" come into view.

For him, who had never been exposed to magical realism, this provided him with a new way of appreciating "Dream of Red Mansions".

For the vast number of writers and readers across the country, this has opened a new door to magical realism.

As soon as the supplement of "October" was published, it immediately aroused widespread attention and discussion in the literary world.

In northern Shaanxi, in the large courtyard behind the Chang'an Writers Association, there are several rooms specially provided for the gatherings of the Shaanxi Literary Army.

One of them is the room of Wang Guansheng, the editor of "Yanhe". It is a long and narrow room with a door facing north. There is a bed, a table and a few chairs. It is simple but not simplistic.

Lu Yao, Chen Zhongshi, Bai Miao and others often visited.

Even writers who came from other places to Yanhe or the Chang'an Writers Association for business would attend the gatherings every now and then.

At this time, the chairs and beds were full of people.

Those who couldn't get a seat stood willingly.

Chen Zhongshi squatted on the edge of the bed, quietly listening to the latest developments in literary trends, pure literature, Lingnan literature, regional literature...

Everyone was discussing the views raised by Fangyan, with some appreciating them and some not.

Just as a heated argument broke out and the original topic had already deviated, a loud voice suddenly emerged from the crowd.

"The ball doesn't go in!"

Everyone looked in the direction of the voice and saw Lu Yao squatting in an inconspicuous corner, flipping through the supplement of "October".

"Lu Yao was right just now, the ball shouldn't be headed!"

Wang Guansheng smiled and said, "It's not a big deal," which made the people who were arguing with each other understand that there was no need to discuss things that had nothing to do with literary creation. It was a sheer waste of time and it was not a big deal.

One by one they calmed down and started looking for new topics.

For a moment, the room fell into silence.

Chen Zhongshi looked around and saw Lu Yao talking to himself, so he moved closer and heard him say:

"What a shame, it's such a pity..."

"What's a pity?"

"Unfortunately, the style of 'Towards the Big World' that I wrote has already been determined to be traditional realism, and there is no way to change it."

Lu Yao sighed: "Otherwise, I really want to try this kind of magical realism writing style."

"Magical Realism?"

Chen Zhongshi had heard this word before, but he had only heard it and did not understand its deeper meaning.

"I remember you told me that you wanted to write a work that could be used as a pillow in your coffin after your death, right?"

Lu Yao handed him the supplement of October.

"Yes, works like your Life, Fangyan's The Splitting of the Qin Dynasty, and Li Cunbao's The Wreath under the Mountain." Chen Zhongshi reached out and took it. "What is this?"

“Maybe this can help you, especially Yanzi’s article “What is Magical Realism”.”

Lu Yao patted his shoulder and stood up.

Seeing the smile on his lips, Chen Zhongshi became more curious and casually flipped through the supplement of "October".

Once it’s turned over, it’s out of control.

Magical realism captured him immediately.

While I was happy, I was also regretful that there was no translation of "One Hundred Years of Solitude" in the supplement, so I couldn't take a look at it.

In a trance, through the window, he seemed to see a white deer rising up in the front yard and walking towards him.

………………

On the third day after the October supplement was published, mainstream newspapers such as the Literary Gazette and the Literature Gazette reprinted the above content.

For a time, "One Hundred Years of Solitude" and magical realism spread among editors, writers and young literary people.

No foreign work has ever been as popular and sought after as One Hundred Years of Solitude.

Although there is only an English version of "One Hundred Years of Solitude" on the market, it is still highly sought after and is hard to come by.

These days, there is no strong "Nobel Prize worship", but more of a fresh and unfamiliar feeling towards the unprecedented magical realism.

Not to mention, Fangyan personally came out to introduce it.

Many people have never heard of Marquez, and it is only because of Mr. Mu Fang’s name that they pay attention to "magical realism".

Yu Hua is one of them.

At this time, he was lying on the bed in the morgue, holding the October supplement in his hands.

Suddenly, as if resurrected from the dead, he straightened up suddenly:
"Fuck, novels can actually be written like this!"

"It's a pity that there is no translation of One Hundred Years of Solitude. Otherwise, I would really like to see how well it is written."

"Teacher Fang said that it is to make fantasy and reality happen in the same dimension, true and false, like a dream, and turn reality into fantasy without losing its authenticity."

"Or maybe, the dead and the living live in the same space, etc., the dead and the living ..."

Yu Hua was stunned when he saw this message written in Fangyan.

Since publishing his debut novel "The First Dormitory" in "Woodpecker", he has become famous in the hospital.

It was the perfect time to press on with my victory, but I just had no inspiration, not a single drop. It was extremely uncomfortable.

But now, it's like an invisible big hand is helping me turn on the faucet of inspiration.

Behind the hand was Teacher Fang!

After watching "Under the Hawthorn Tree" and seeing the death of Lao San, Fangyan made me realize that there is no art more beautiful than death!
Looking at the supplement of October again and seeing the magical realism of "the connection between life and death", he couldn't help but think about it.

“No wonder when I watched Snow Country, I always felt like I was wandering between fantasy and reality.”

"I always feel that Kawabata Yasunari is different from other writers. Others write from life to death, but he can make life appear in death."

"Sometimes, the dead are more useful than the living..."

Yu Hua muttered to himself as he felt a small drop of water squeezed out of the faucet.

Death should be like a cold-blooded "serial killer" who indiscriminately "murders" every character in the novel.

Some people are alive, but they are already dead!

Some people died, but he is still alive!

I felt that I had grasped the essence of "death", and inspiration gushed out.

I began to conceive a story in my mind about a protagonist whose soul wanders between life and death, and who spends seven days observing life from the perspective of death.

There was a cool breeze in the morgue.

Bursts of laughter came out of the house and floated into the corridor, scaring the doctors and nurses passing by. Could this be haunted?
(End of this chapter)