On May 10, 1988, Shen Congwen passed away, and there seemed to be no news at all in the country.
Three days later, on May 13, China News Service sent a message, which was extremely simple.
On the 14th, "Literary News" published a report of 1***50 words.
On the 16th, Shanghai's "Xinmin Evening News" also published a report - the source of the news was actually Hong Kong.
Ba Jin read newspapers in Shanghai and Beijing for several days at home, but could not find his old friend's name.
He was very confused: Was Shen Congwen's obituary late? What are people waiting for?
Some people say that it may be that the status in literary history has not been arranged and an appropriate title cannot be found. Indeed, if you look through the history of Chinese literature at that time, you will be hard-pressed to find the words Shen Congwen.
Some people say that now that the economy needs to be invigorated, who will care about the life and death of a writer? Can production be ramped up with just a pen?
Ba Jin could not answer.
The so-called literary history and the so-called economics are nothing more than the same truth: times never stop for individuals.
Phoenix, located in western Hunan, is the origin of Shen Congwen's life story.
Most people who have read Shen Congwen will imagine such a Phoenix: beautiful scenery, independent from the world, and simple folk customs.
But you must not have imagined that the history of this small town is full of violence and bloodshed.
In order to suppress the Miao people, the Qing Dynasty sent a group of garrison troops to garrison in the area. Around this isolated city, there are about 4,000 to 5,000 bunkers, densely packed, like a group of giant beasts monitoring and suppressing the Miao people. Tyranny, and the resistance caused by this tyranny, stained every official road and every bunker.
By 1902, when Shen Congwen was born, most of the bunkers had been destroyed, the military residences had been converted into private houses, and the Miao people had mostly assimilated. Only at dusk, standing on the heights of the majestic lonely city and looking at the fortresses far and near, can I vaguely imagine the scene back then.
Shen Congwen's grandfather was a soldier. He fought with the Hunan Army against the Taiping Army, and also fought against the Hui and Miao people. He earned a fortune for the family with his military exploits, but was later defeated by Shen Congwen's father.
Father Shen guarded the Dagu Fort in his early years. When the Eight-Power Allied Forces captured Tianjin, the fort fell, ruining his lifetime fame and most of his industry. After the founding of the Republic of China, he originally wanted to run for the Hunan Provincial Congress. After losing the election, he felt dissatisfied and went out to Beijing in anger to participate in the plot to assassinate Yuan Shikai. Unexpectedly, the matter was exposed, so he had no choice but to escape, change his name and live in the world.
In that turbulent era, there were few people like Mr. Shen who were looking for a way out.
In 1911, the Wuchang Uprising occurred, and various places responded thereafter. Fenghuang was no exception, and the Miao people began to resist. However, in just one night, the rebel army was defeated.
That day, Shen Congwen woke up in the morning and saw a lot of bloody human heads on the ground at the gate of Daoyin Yamen. There were also heads everywhere on the antlers at the gate of the Yamen and on the gate.
He found human ears strung in the corner, and an older relative asked him: "Little thing, are you afraid?"
Shen Congwen gave an excellent answer: " Don’t be afraid.”
For the 9-year-old Shancheng child, these are just the beginning.
The killings continued for a month. The city defense army sent troops to the countryside to arrest people, killing about a hundred people every day, sometimes without stripping off their clothes or tying them with ropes, just like driving animals. After the killing, the murderer seemed a little unbearable, and thought of a way: entrusting the Heavenly King, whom the local people respected, to lead the prisoner to the main hall of the Heavenly King Temple, and throw a bamboo stick in front of the god. Life or death depended on the throw.
Other writers of the same period spent their childhood playing in water, fighting, and stealing, but Shen Congwen's childhood was spent watching murder.
After the Revolution of 1911, the land of China was dominated by warlords of all sizes, and Xiangxi was no exception. At this time, Shen Congwen grew up a little and wanted to follow the path of his grandfather.
In an era of chaos, ordinary people can only trust their strength. This is a way out for young people, and perhaps the only way out for young people.
So he saw more murders.
The main job of the army is to "clear the countryside" and "suppress bandits." Apart from having a legal name, they are no different from bandits.
When he went to the market during the day, he could often see such a horrific scene: a few soldiers in front, and a child of twelve or thirteen years old in the middle, picked two heads, and the heads were often The child's father.
Weird, scary, and ordinary.
If Lu Xun saw such a scene, he would definitely curse the executioner and the numb onlookers, and ask deeply: "This has always been like this, is it right?"
And perhaps Shen Congwen He is the onlooker described by Lu Xun. He will not question or yell, but just record it calmly.
He said this: "From there and other places, I saw some stupid things that ordinary people have never seen, listened to some shouts that ordinary people have never heard, and sniffed some It is a smell that ordinary people have never smelled; it does not arouse much interest in the concepts of good and evil that people in the city have in their narrow and mediocre life. Once I come to live in the city, I become melancholy and strong, not like a human being. 'Feelings."
After seeing so much killing, Shen Congwen became disgusted with something.
It remains unchanged throughout my life.
In 1922, a young man came to Beijing. Carrying a roll of luggage, he walked out of the station at the front gate of Beijing, got on a train, and was pulled into a small inn along the West River.
He registered in the passenger book: "Shen Congwen, 20 years old, student, from Fenghuang County, Hunan."
Life is not easy for this "Beijing drifter" Pretty friendly.
Shen Congwen wanted to be a scholar, so he kept attending Peking University. He was poor and had never attended a new school, so naturally he could not get into college. He applied to Peking University and other national universities, but failed; he applied to the University of China and France, and after admission, he had to pay 28 yuan for room and board.
At that time, Beijing was like a whirlpool. Some people turned into dragons when encountering storms, but more people were sucked into the bottom of the river. Reality could not tolerate him continuing to have such stupid dreams. He could only pick up the pen, start writing, and find another way out.
He wrote as hard as he could, submitting articles everywhere, but mostly getting no results.
Sun Fuyuan, the famous editor of "Morning News Supplement", once took out the work submitted by Shen Congwen in public and joked: This is the work of such and such a great writer! After saying that, he twisted into a ball and threw it into the wastebasket.
When he was at the end of his rope, Shen Congwen tried to write to Yu Dafu for help. Yu Dafu visited this young man whom he had never met before. He took off his scarf and left it to Shen Congwen, who had no winter clothes. He invited him to lunch, took out five yuan to pay the bill, and left the remaining three yuan and a few cents to him.
That night, Yu Dafu wrote an "Open Statement to a Literary Youth" with indignation and injustice. Shen Congwen's name is not mentioned in the article, but we can see a young man who can't find a way out.
In the article, he gave Shen Congwen advice. The best thing to do is to find something to do - perhaps make a revolution or make a bomb. The best option is to go back to your hometown. The next best option is to enlist as a soldier or become a thief. If you are a thief, "Why don't you come to my place and try to solve the problem? I have a few old books, but you can sell them for a few bucks... If you come here, you should have a tougher heart. Don't do it because they are mine." Because of the book, you didn’t steal it, so you burst into tears.”
Ridiculing and satirizing, Yu Dafu points to the cruel reality that leaves young people with no way out. But this naked reality is too cruel for Shen Congwen, who is full of ideals, to accept.
Before coming to Beijing, Shen Congwen said to his relative Huang Jingming: "I came to Beijing to find my ideal and want to read some books."
Huang Jingming mocked: "Hey, study, what ideal do you have? , how to study? You don't know, there are 10,000 college students in Beijing, who have nothing to do after graduation, and they can only look miserable and don't know what to do.
The salary of university professors is 10% off, only 36 yuan a month, and they got it through hard work and hard work through a joint strike. Bookworms, big and small, either study to death or study to death. How can you be a successful boss in the countryside? "
Shen Congwen retorted: "But how can I go on. In the past six years, I have watched tens of thousands of innocent civilians being killed at my feet. Apart from leaving a stupid and cruel impression on the people who were killed, I have learned nothing! There are many smart people who serve as officials. The smarter a person is, the more they allow stupidity to rise, while they themselves seem to be aloof and treat all things as stupid dogs. I couldn't stay any longer, so I ran out. I want to read some books and save the country by reading good books. It is really undesirable for this country to continue like this! ”
We don’t know how long Shen Congwen endured, we only know that he survived. From a ragged young man in Xiangxi, he became a well-known professional writer by accident.
The dream of learning that should have died is still shining in the dark.
Beijing is not without its merits. At least its streets are "museums of the classical culture of the two dynasties in the past 600 years." Visit these museums. There was no need to buy a ticket. To the west of the guild hall where he stayed when he came to Beijing was Liulichang, a famous cultural relics street. He didn't dare to go in at first, but when he saw the broken porcelain from the Tang and Song Dynasties and the scrolls from the Ming and Qing Dynasties displayed in the window, he left immediately.
This is a little joke of fate. When he understood the joke, it was already many years later.
Even if he became a professional writer. , livelihood is still a big problem
The low remuneration and royalties are often in arrears. In addition, Shen Congwen is burdened with debts due to the collapse of his previous publishing industry. Shen Congwen is wandering in Beijing with his sick mother and young sister. , The pressure was getting worse day by day, and it was difficult to survive.
Finally, he chose to teach to earn living expenses.
Then, he met Zhang Zhaohe, the most important person in his life. A woman who was also his student.
Around 1930, the teacher began to write letters to his students to express his feelings to her.
“I have walked on bridges in many places and seen them. Many times, I drank many kinds of wine, but I only fell in love with one person who was at his best age. ”
Zhang Zhaohe didn’t seem to be panicked. She had seen this kind of scene many times. Her way of dealing with Shen Congwen was silence. No matter how many letters Shen Congwen wrote, she ignored them all.
More After this failure, Shen Congwen was disheartened and decided to resign as a teacher. Before leaving, he asked for an explanation, so he called Zhang Zhaohe's classmate Wang Hualian.
After Wang Hualian came in, Shen Congwen said: "I am. I have something to ask you, but I can't say it. Please read this. "
He handed her two pieces of paper that he had written the day before, and then asked her a lot of questions about Zhang Zhaohe. When he talked about the sad part, he burst into tears; and again, he cried again.
"Because I love her, I'm afraid that staying here will make her sad, and I don't want to impose any obligations on her, so I have decided to leave. But I'm willing to leave knowing her opinion. ”
From the beginning to the present, Zhang Zhaohe’s attitude has been very firm, as stubborn as a stone. However, Shen Congwen also stubbornly wrote to her to express his respect for her stubbornness. Perhaps between you and me, , her calm heart had already been rippled.
During the winter vacation of 1933, Shen Congwen wrote a letter to Zhang Zhaohe as usual, saying tactfully that he wanted to propose marriage and asked Zhang Zhaohe if his parents agreed. Send him a telegram as soon as possible and let him, a "countryman, have a drink of sweet wine."
The Zhang family sent a telegram to Shen Congwen, using only one word "yes", which meant that the marriage was "approved". /p>
Zhang Zhaohe was a little worried. What if Shen Congwen couldn't understand? She quietly took a rickshaw to the telegraph office and handed over her telegram manuscript, "Country people have a drink of sweet wine." The text usually does not use vernacular, and the word "ba" was added unexpectedly.
In the face of the turbulent love, Shen Congwen seemed to have a new understanding.
He became increasingly disgusted with those who were superior. Things - power, thought, history...
On January 7, 1934, he set off back to Phoenix.
This is his first return home after leaving Xiangxi. Before leaving, he made a promise to his wife Zhang Zhaohe and wrote to her every day. He wrote nearly fifty letters, and after returning to Peiping, he sorted them out and converted the "San San Patented Readings" into a text for readers. This is what became "Xiang Xing San Ji".
More than ten years ago, Shen Congwen was alone, without anything, traveling on a boat, and had no confidence in his future. Now, seeing the stilted buildings in his hometown again and hearing the ditties by the river, in front of the wild nature, he wanted to ask himself: Why do people live?
The majority of people live a mediocre life, eating and drinking when they should, but a few people can control their own destiny and that of the nation and make their lives shine. This is what the May 4th Movement imprinted in his heart. idea.
At this moment, he admitted that he was wrong.
"Don't we usually read history? What does a history book tell us other than telling us that some of the stupidest people of another era killed each other? But the real history is a river. From that day and night The stones and sand, the rotten vegetation, and the broken shipboards in the water that has remained unchanged for a long time made me touch the sorrows and joys of human beings in many eras that we usually ignore!"
"I have seen it before! Didn’t you mention these people’s pitiful lives and their inactive lives? No, Sansan, I was wrong. These people don’t need us to pity them, we should respect them and love them.”
"I am very weak at this time, because I love the world and mankind. Sansan, if we are two people in the same place at this time, look at how wet my eyes are!"
Not long after returning to my hometown, "Border Town" came out. Many years later, this novel was selected into the top 100 Chinese novels of the 20th century, ranking second only to Lu Xun's "The Scream".
After Japan launched a full-scale war of aggression against China, Shen Congwen followed the Southwest Associated University to Kunming.
During the first bombing in Kunming, as soon as the sky was lit up, explosions sounded all around, the glass of the windows shattered, pieces fell down, dust flew up, and the crowds scattered...
But Shen Congwen's expression remained unchanged. He looked at the thick smoke not far away and murmured: "Which side was bombed? The school just moved here and we can't suffer any more losses!" This is the strong Shen Congwen.
And the fragile Mr. Shen would drink some wine and say in a low voice: "The country has become like this. Everyone just wants to run away, can't study, can't work..." Suddenly he put down the wine glass and cried. He stood up like a helpless child.
Childhood memories, the history of Xiangjiang River, and the huge thunder in Kunming are intertwined in his heart. In this environment, he wrote "The Long River" - a novel that was supposed to be the Chinese version of "War and Peace".
"I think of the emotions caused by people living in caves thousands of years ago, sleeping in a corner of the cave and listening to the roar of thunder. At the same time, I also think of the emotions that modern people feel when they hear another kind of man-made thunder. The emotions aroused. I feel very moved. This loud voice makes people feel sad for history, because it is remaking history." He thought of the history of people killing each other again. and people drowned in history.
Since the Anti-Japanese War, literati wanted to devote themselves to serving the country, but they had no choice but to have a pen that could be used for many purposes, so they wanted to devote themselves to politics with their articles and do their best for the nation.
Shen Congwen had a glimpse of the hidden worries behind it. He was afraid that politics would corrupt literature, so he published a special article against writers entering politics.
The left-wing literary community reacted fiercely, and a group of people wrote articles to refute it. The deeper the misunderstanding and the greater the hostility, the more Shen Congwen's original meaning has been simplified and even labeled. In the eyes of the outside world, salvation is so urgent, but Shen Congwen looks like a nagging old woman, saying some inappropriate old sayings.
Until 1946, the siege against Shen Congwen began: "A kind of person emerged who claimed to be noble but unwilling to be lonely. He was divorced from reality and said sarcastic words from a noble position. The representative of this kind of person was Shen Congwen. ”
More people denounced his articles as only abstract and without class. "Accomplice", "helper", "slander" and "criminal" have suddenly become the subject of verbal and written criticism.
The most severe one is Guo Moruo's "Criticizing Reactionary Literature and Art". He described Shen Congwen as a representative of "pink color", "who wrote nude paintings and even erotic erotica".
Under such circumstances, Shen Congwen being alone is almost equivalent to being banned.
Times are moving forward, and he can't keep up.
In the spring of 1949, Shen Congwen committed suicide.
After being rescued, he fell into an unprecedented tranquility. He thought of Cuicui, the girl he created in "Border Town".
"The night is eerily quiet. The Dragon Boat Festival is coming soon, and there must be dragon boats going down the river in my hometown. Green, green, green, are you sleeping soundly in a small room 104, or are you sleeping in the sound of cuckoos? Think of me, think of me after I die? Cuicui, Sansan, am I crazy again? I feel scared, because everything is very silent, is this not a normal situation? "
But he had deep doubts about his writing ability.
"What should I write? What else can I write? The pen has frozen, and so has my life."
He hoped that his family would burn his works to avoid disturbing future generations.
He often lay in bed and listened to Beethoven, feeling the compassion of life.
After that, he wrote a letter to his friend Ding Ling.
"In order to remedy the situation, or give up literature, use the miscellaneous knowledge of history and the enthusiasm and understanding of arts and crafts to study the history of ancient arts and crafts."
It was Shen Congwen's choice and self-salvation to give up the literature he had been engaged in for many years and regain the dream he had when he first came to Beijing. This joke of fate had been lurking in his life for a long time, like a seed buried in the soil that would break out when the time came.
His research on cultural relics is unique, and he is most concerned about daily necessities such as fans, saddles, mirrors, clothing, cups, etc. that were not regarded as cultural relics at that time. He knows that behind these objects, there are the creations and stories of workers.
Later, he devoted all his efforts to writing the famous "Research on Ancient Chinese Clothing".
This is the new Shen Congwen.
On May 8, 1982, the old Shen Congwen embarked on the road back to his hometown.
Nanhua Mountain, Guanjing Mountain, Magpie Slope, Octagonal Tower... At the foot of Nanhua Mountain is Wenchangge Primary School, his alma mater, where the morning songs of children can be heard.
Walking around the ancient streets and alleys, I came across a dilapidated house with five families living in it. Shen Congwen held on to the broken door wall of the central hall and said: "This is my home, I was born here... the house has been sold to others long ago."
He wanted to listen to the Nuo opera and the sounds of childhood.
The artists sang with the accompaniment of gongs and drums: "The Lantern Festival fireworks are light in the first month, the hibiscus flowers and grass are fragrant in the second month..." When singing "The fragrance of osmanthus flowers on August 15th", Shen Congwen also danced and followed. Singing.
At the end, he stood up to see him off. His eyes behind the yellow-framed lenses were red and full of tears.
Times are moving forward, but fortunately we can still see the sorrow and joy of mankind hidden behind history.
No matter what the future looks like, people's faces, fears and hopes should be recorded.
From a country boy who was keen on watching killings to an old man who is always sad and often in tears, his heart has long been filled with compassion and compassion.
In the 1950s, Shen Congwen once wrote this sentence sentimentally: "My readers and I are both getting old together."
But when The era of absurdity is gone, but his works have ushered in a new life.
After the 1980s, some modern writers reappeared in literary history from their previously obscured status: Zhang Ailing, Qian Zhongshu, and Shen Congwen. They all insist on a kind of "daily narrative" to fight against the "grand narrative", and use a trickle to fight against the long river.
This is a belated proof: he has always been China's first-class novelist.
His student Wang Zengqi once said that Shen Congwen's works run through a theme - the discovery and reconstruction of national morality.
A few years after Shen Congwen's death, Swedish scholar Ma Yueran revealed a secret. In 1988, Shen Congwen was shortlisted for the Nobel Prize in Literature that year. "I am personally convinced that if he had not passed away in 1988, he would have received this award in October."
There is never a perfect ending, but this is "very Shen Congwen".
On May 18, 1988, eight days after Shen Congwen's death, a farewell ceremony was held in Babaoshan with only a few people.
There were no wreaths, curtains, black veils, no eulogies, and no mourning music. His favorite classical music during his lifetime - Beethoven's "Pathétique" sonata - was played.
This may be what Shen Congwen hoped for: no need for the excitement of the news, no need for the remembrance of the times, no need for anyone to set a "status" for him, just to pass away quietly like this.
Four years later, in 1992, Shen Congwen "returned" to his hometown of Phoenix. Half of his ashes were scattered into the Tuojiang River that goes around the city, and the other half were buried directly in the soil of the cemetery. The tombstone is a big stone with Shen Congwen's handwriting on it, with four sentences engraved in separate lines:
Think as I do
Can understand me
Think as I do
You can get to know people
In the quiet rivers of western Hunan, many things are no longer important. The important thing is that until now, we still read Shen Congwen, still miss him, and still shed tears for Cuicui and Sansan.
Not for the lofty thoughts or the grand history, just because he looked at all the small people with compassion.
There are countless Xiangxi in this world, but there is only one Shen Congwen.