Writer 1978: I Need to Give the Literary World a Lesson

Chapter 150: Essays on a Journey to France

The combined power of major newspapers is immense, and the voices of several bigwigs are like an old man entering a noisy classroom and gently tapping his cane, instantly bringing the entire classroom back to silence.

Ordinary people tend to oversimplify the nature of struggle, viewing it as a black-and-white opposition. In reality, true struggle involves mutual influence and interdependence.

There are two factions among the chairman and vice-chairmen of the Federation of Literary and Art Circles: the Xichun faction and the Biezuo faction. They argue constantly in meetings and sometimes express their opinions in the newspapers, but their relationship is not strained in private. In fact, they are good friends.

Philosophy has long explained contradictions clearly: contradictions are a unity of opposites and are interdependent.

Liu Yimin walked into the Beijing People's Art Theatre and overheard the candied hawthorn vendor making up stories about himself. Looking at the audience around him who were now completely convinced, Liu Yimin smiled slightly. After all, the play opened with a scene of selling candied hawthorns.

Although people think it's a bit far-fetched that someone could write "The Flames of War in Beiping" after eating a skewer of candied hawthorns, it seems quite reasonable when it happens to Liu Yimin.

Celebrities are naturally different from ordinary people like us. Even masters need a sudden enlightenment. Thinking about this, I understood.

So recently, the sales of candied hawthorns have soared, just like the sales of tickets for the play "Wolf Smoke Over Beiping". When the staff of the nearby police station saw this, they didn't chase them away, and even came over to eat a skewer.

"You've really benefited from Comrade Liu Yimin's influence. Selling is fine, but don't go too far!" The officer warned, holding a candied hawthorn, before turning and leaving.

Comrade Liu Yimin must have a reason for eating this candied hawthorn.

I took a bite, and it seems to taste better than other brands!

The educated youth selling candied hawthorns saw Liu Yimin, quickly shut his mouth from his rambling, and gave an embarrassed smile. Seeing that Liu Yimin wasn't angry, he grabbed a candied hawthorn, ran a few steps to catch up with Liu Yimin, and stuffed it into Liu Yimin's hand.

Liu Yimin laughed: "A gift for me?"

"This is for you!"

"You're quite good at business!"

"I rely on you for a living, you're so generous!"

"Your story is better than mine!"

Liu Yimin walked into the People's Art Theatre building with a smile. After eating candied hawthorns so many times, he only learned this time what the educated youth's name was: Liang San'er. Now he called himself Liang Sanhulu (Liang the Three-Hulu).

"Yimin, what brings you here?" Yu Shizhi asked.

Liu Yimin pointed down and said with a smile, "Let me calculate how much dividend I've earned!"

"The comrades are so enthusiastic right now, they can't wait to perform more shows. I'm a veteran actor in 'Teahouse,' and seeing this scene makes me genuinely happy. The moment I first saw the script, I knew it was the right 'flavor'!"

"What does it smell like?"

“That’s the Beijing flavor! Mr. Lao She’s ‘Beijing flavor’!” Yu Shizhi patted Liu Yimin on the shoulder and imitated the “Bai Lianqi” look, making the two of them laugh in the corridor.

So she looked at the educated youth selling candied hawthorns downstairs and said, "You're not angry about being made up like this?"

"What's there to be angry about? He still relies on his candied hawthorns to support his family. If I can help him sell more, I'm doing a good deed."

Liu Yimin came to the Beijing People's Art Theatre on Cao Yu's call, and he didn't know why. Liu Yimin pushed open the door and went in, and Cao Yu picked up a pen to write.

All that has passed; to find truly remarkable figures, look to the present.

"Teacher, you're in a good mood today, your pen is full of vigor!" Looking at Cao Yu's expression, he seemed to be experiencing a kind of "old man's youthful exuberance."

"How's the writing?"

"Magnificent and all-encompassing!" Liu Yimin said.

"Whether it's well-written or not, it's a gift for you. I hope you'll continue to work hard and write even better manuscripts." After saying that, Cao Yu took out several personal seals from the drawer and stamped them on the seals one by one.

"Oh dear, I need to find someone to frame it and put it at home."

Cao Yu said happily, "You were wronged a while ago. Everyone has to suffer some grievances. If you don't suffer a big one, you'll suffer a small one. The situation in the newspapers is very good now, which shows that good works have a tenacious vitality."

“Teacher, it’s okay to suffer injustice, but you can’t suffer injustice forever!” Liu Yimin said firmly.

"Don't worry, I'm here for you! I'll be writing a few more articles for the Literary Gazette soon, and while things are looking up, I'll try to make a final decision."

Once the ink had dried, Cao Yu rolled up the characters, tied them with a thin string, and placed them on the bookshelf. It wasn't convenient for him to take them to school, so he could only leave them on his bookshelf for the time being.

A month after the premiere of "The Flames of War in Beiping," Liu Yimin visited People's Literature and Art magazine and gave Cui Daoyi several essays he had written about his experiences in France. After Liu Yimin returned from France, Cui Daoyi encouraged him to write about his trip.

The 1980 issue of "People's Literature and Art" looked exactly the same as always, with no apparent changes. Only the exposed electrical wires and walls in the corridor appeared more dilapidated.

All the editors buried their heads in the mountain of manuscripts, desperately searching for any that might be usable after revision. Many more manuscripts remained untouched, stuffed in sacks.

“Recently, more and more young people are writing, and I think it’s all because of your influence. Some even write ‘Respect to Comrade Liu Yimin’ directly in their letters. We editors are filled with a mixture of excitement and pain. Look, Old Wang has scratched off quite a bit of his hair.”

Cui Daoyi smiled and pointed to the old editor surnamed Wang who was scratching his head next to him. Hearing their conversation, the old editor looked up and said, "There are more and more manuscripts now, but few are usable. Even stones that can be picked up, washed, and used are becoming increasingly rare."

“Some young people wrote ‘Following in the footsteps of Comrade Liu Yimin’ on the envelopes. Most people submitted their articles following Yimin’s lead, hoping that their first article could be published directly in a national journal, just like Yimin did.”

The editor shook his head, seemingly thinking that some young people were being overly ambitious, and that it was already quite good if a newcomer's manuscript could be published in a local newspaper or magazine.

Liu Yimin said to Cui Daoyi, "Oh, I see. It's my fault. Shall I leave?"

Cui Daoyi laughed heartily and said loudly, "Since we're already here, where are we going!"

I quickly opened Liu Yimin's essays and started reading with a smile.

The old editor surnamed Wang glanced at Cui Daoyi with envy before burying his head back into the mountain of manuscripts, huffing and puffing as he dug for stones.

For them, seeing a good manuscript is a pleasure, while reading a rejected one is pure torture. Even though it's torture, they still have to hold their noses and take a few more glances, afraid that they might be blind to its quality.

"Yimin, your essay style has a bit of a Ming and Qing dynasty feel to it—a gentle, flowing narrative that emphasizes detailed descriptions to highlight character traits. The writing styles of novels and essays are different; in some ways, the essay truly reflects the author's personality." Essays and novels are two distinct genres, differing greatly in format, writing logic, and content. The biggest difference lies in the content; a novel is a story, whether based on reality or fiction, conceived by the author through their writing.

Through a variety of plots, the author creates a series of classic characters, prompting readers to reflect on society and life. The structure of the story and the creation of the characters certainly reflect the author's past life experiences, outlook on life, and worldview.

However, the novel only contains the author's past experiences and values.

Essays, on the other hand, are expressions of the author's personal feelings. The content consists of things the author has personally experienced or insights into life, directly demonstrating the author's attitude and spirit towards things in life.

To put it simply, you might be wrong about the author when judging them through novels, but you're almost always right when judging them through essays.

Liu Yimin divided his essays written in France into seven pieces, first distinguished by location. The first six pieces are titled Paris, Nice, Marseille, Lyon, Chari-Dorgi, and finally Paris.

The seventh chapter recounts the entire process of negotiating the publication of his book in France. These seven chapters together form Liu Yimin's "Travels in France".

Seven essays, totaling less than 20,000 words.

"During my twenty-day trip to France, I transformed into what Western media call a 'hawkish' writer."

Cui Daoyi read the first sentence repeatedly, then lowered his head to think. After a while, he smiled and said, "I remember now. It's like Zhang Dai's prose style, clear as a lotus emerging from clear water, naturally beautiful without any embellishment. The language style is simple and unadorned, but it doesn't abandon description."

My first reading was quite calm, but the events that happened to you in France inevitably added a touch of Lu Xun's fighting spirit; it's a good piece of prose.

Li Ji came out and looked at Liu Yimin, saying in his local accent, "Yimin, my fellow villager has arrived!"

Cui Daoyi handed Liu Yimin's essay to Li Ji: "Old Li, take a look. This is Yimin's essay about his trip to France. It is also his first essay."

Li Ji glanced at the other eager editors, gave them a warning, and then turned and called them both into his office.

Compared to the large editing room outside, Li Ji's office didn't have the smoky, gas-filled feel of other offices, and the furnishings were the same as before, unchanged since Zhang Guangnian's time there.

Li Ji poured Liu Yimin a cup of tea and said, "Try our Xinyang Maojian tea. It was sent by a friend from my hometown. He said it's last year's new tea. To be honest, I don't know much about it."

Liu Yimin took a sip and said politely, "Good tea!"

"Oh?" Li Ji became interested. "If you like it, you can take some back with you later. I'd like to take a look at your essays first."

Liu Yimin and Cui Daoyi huddled together by the stove, sipping tea and exchanging whispers.

Li Ji sat in the chair and read for almost an hour before looking up, rubbing his temples, and saying with a smile, "This is your first time writing an essay. It's quite good. The professors in the Chinese Department of Yenching University all write essays better than the last. Speaking of which, Mr. Lu Xun was also a teacher at Yenching University."

Your essay combines narrative and intellectual depth, incorporating your own inner monologue and revealing your profound love for your motherland. It also contains a critical element, criticizing French journalists and students who forget their roots after going abroad.

"Yi Min's seven essays, totaling less than 20,000 words, contain so much content and are quite concise. However, I feel that some parts still need improvement."

Cui Daoyi took over Li Ji's words and offered his own suggestions. After speaking, he looked at Liu Yimin with a questioning expression.

If Liu Yimin had been more assertive, Cui Daoyi wouldn't have allowed Liu Yimin to make the changes.

"Senior brother, you yourself said this is my first time writing essays, so of course I wanted to write them better. To be honest, I've revised these essays many times. They're less than 20,000 words, which should be quick to write, but it took half a year to finish."

Strictly speaking, this essay is Liu Yimin's first work of his own, and he put a lot of care into it. After returning from France, he would write something in his spare time, revising it just as many times as he did the short stories that Liu Zhenyun was still developing.

Cui Daoyi smiled easily and began to point out Liu Yimin's problems. To improve the situation, he even brought in a senior editor from the essay section to provide joint guidance.

Finally, the editor of the essay section pointed to the trip to Marseille and said, "Could we delete the part about 'The PLA Occupying Paris'? I'm afraid it might cause trouble."

The editor of the essay section explained the pros and cons to Liu Yimin and Cui Daoyi, pointing out the key issues. Cui Daoyi hadn't noticed this before, but after the editor's reminder, he also realized it was a problem.

After all, they are state publications, and to some extent they represent the will of the authorities and the direction of literary creation.

Cui Daoyi looked at Liu Yimin, who said without hesitation, "An essay is based on a person's personal experience; if you change it, it won't be true."

Liu Yimin was almost about to say, "Historians record events truthfully, without altering a single word!"

"One citizen? No room for negotiation?"

"Senior brother, you know me. Even if it's not published, this place won't be changed."

Cui Daoyi sighed, seemingly aware that Liu Yimin had long held this attitude. Li Ji, upon hearing this, also felt it was a difficult situation and said he would hold an editorial meeting to discuss it further.

As Cui Daoyi saw Liu Yimin off from People's Literature and Art magazine, he said with a smile, "Yimin, there hasn't been any news about the courtyard house lately. After all, it's almost Chinese New Year, and everyone's mind isn't on it."

"Understood, I'm not in a hurry. Thank you, senior brother!"

"Not at all, your business is my business."

"Senior brother, if you're in a difficult position, I..."

Before Liu Yimin could even finish mentioning submitting his work to another magazine, Cui Daoyi interrupted him, saying, "Wait for my news."

He turned back several times, reminding Liu Yimin to wait, as if he was afraid that if he turned around and rode his bicycle, he would arrive at the "Yanjing Literature and Art" magazine.

Seeing that Liu Yimin was riding his bicycle in the wrong direction, he quickly caught up and asked, "Yimin, where are you going?"

"I'm going to the Writers' Association guesthouse."

"Oh!" Cui Daoyi turned and left with relief. When he reached the third-floor corridor, he still ran to the window to see where Liu Yimin had gone.

At the Writers' Association Guesthouse, Liu Yimin rode his bicycle to find Old Ma, who was wrapped up like a rice dumpling, with thick clothes covering him, making it incredibly clumsy to even turn around.

"You're here?" Old Ma looked Liu Yimin up and down and said with a smile.

The small room in the Writers' Association guesthouse, which was originally Lao Ma's duty room, has now become his home. Zou Huofan said that he has a room allocated nearby, but he doesn't go back there often anymore.

(End of this chapter)