Please collect the follow-up article "Stop, Gangster"~
After seeing Bailuyuan, my mood was ups and downs, and I had a little fantasy in my heart, just for my own entertainment.
Intention: People should be strong and self-reliant, never give in to the status quo, and never give up on themselves.
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"Becoming a King": When power becomes a collective migraine
Chapter 16 of "Osmanthus" completes a disenchantment of the aesthetics of power with minimalist narrative density. The author abstracts the grand narrative of "becoming a king" from the rituals of the Jinluan Palace and instead throws it into the nerve endings of every ordinary person - when Ye Xiling clutches her chest and says "I feel very unhappy", the royal power is no longer an etiquette or a violent machine, but a perceptible physiological radiation, a collective migraine diffused in the alien atmosphere.
This kind of writing is extremely ambitious. It implies that the most terrifying thing about power is not the visible oppression, but the invisible penetration: when someone becomes the king, no one is spared, even the mixed-race orphans wandering on the periphery are included in this indiscriminate sensory hijacking. The "discipline" described by Foucault still requires prisons and schools as media, but the power here directly bypasses words and reaches the body. Ye Xiling's "ignorance" gains a paradoxical awakening meaning here - precisely because she is an "alien" exiled by the center, her body has become the most honest sensor, not blunted by the center's discourse system, and is the first to capture the tremors of power change.
Mirroring this is Hua Fangu's superb performance-oriented life. He "put on a smile", "squeezed out a few tears", and wrapped himself into a harmless cocoon with a set of sophisticated rhetoric. This kind of performance is not hypocritical, but a defense mechanism evolved by the residents of the center: when systematic repression becomes the norm, the personality splits into a superficial social mask and a deep vigilance. The subtle movement of the tip of his tongue against his teeth exposed the momentary cracks in the performer - it was the body's instinctive trembling for power that could not be completely tamed by acting.
The appearance of the mysterious man constitutes a violent intervention from the narrative perspective. Like a guide who masters a topological map, he translates chaotic physiological discomfort into clear political grammar: "Everyone is unhappy, because the prerequisite for this feeling is that someone becomes a king." With an almost violent simplicity, this line completes the leap from individual experience to structural analysis. It reminds us that in the world of Alien, politics is never far away, it just hasn't been named yet.
The author here demonstrates philosophical depth that transcends the literary framework of genre. She did not render "Becoming a King" as a heroic epic, but wrote it as a de-subjectified collective event - the birth of the king was not marked by the cheers of the crowd, but the discomfort of the people as a sacrifice. This kind of irony is reminiscent of Orwell's physiological writing on "Two Minutes of Hate", but it also carries the dark undertone of "reception between heaven and man" in the tradition of Eastern monsters. When power becomes the climate, no one can hold an umbrella. [Rainbow fart] Comment is late, sorry for that [please]
"Becoming a King": When power becomes a collective migraine Chapter 16 of "Osmanthus" completes a disenchantment of the aesthetics of power with minimalist narrative density. The author abstracts the grand narrative of "becoming a king" from the rituals of the Jinluan Palace and instead throws it into the nerve endings of every ordinary person - when Ye Xiling clutches her chest and says "I feel very unhappy", the royal power is no longer an etiquette or a violent machine, but a perceptible physiological radiation, a collective migraine diffused in the alien atmosphere. This kind of writing is extremely ambitious. It implies that the most terrifying thing about power is not the visible oppression, but the invisible penetration: when someone becomes the king, no one is spared, even the mixed-race orphans wandering on the periphery are included in this indiscriminate sensory hijacking. The "discipline" described by Foucault still requires prisons and schools as media, but the power here directly bypasses words and reaches the body. Ye Xiling's "ignorance" gains a paradoxical awakening meaning here - precisely because she is an "alien" exiled by the center, her body has become the most honest sensor, not blunted by the center's discourse system, and is the first to capture the tremors of power change. Mirroring this is Hua Fangu's superb performance-oriented life. He "put on a smile", "squeezed out a few tears", and wrapped himself into a harmless cocoon with a set of sophisticated rhetoric. This kind of performance is not hypocritical, but a defense mechanism evolved by the residents of the center: when systematic repression becomes the norm, the personality splits into a superficial social mask and a deep vigilance. The subtle movement of the tip of his tongue against his teeth exposed the momentary cracks in the performer - it was the body's instinctive trembling for power that could not be completely tamed by acting. The appearance of the mysterious man constitutes a violent intervention from the narrative perspective. Like a guide who masters a topological map, he translates chaotic physiological discomfort into clear political grammar: "Everyone is unhappy, because the prerequisite for this feeling is that someone becomes a king." With an almost violent simplicity, this line completes the leap from individual experience to structural analysis. It reminds us that in the world of Alien, politics is never far away, it just hasn't been named yet. The author here demonstrates philosophical depth that transcends the literary framework of genre. She did not render "Becoming a King" as a heroic epic, but wrote it as a de-subjectified collective event - the birth of the king was not marked by the cheers of the crowd, but the discomfort of the people as a sacrifice. This kind of irony is reminiscent of Orwell's physiological writing on "Two Minutes of Hate", but it also carries the dark undertone of "reception between heaven and man" in the tradition of Eastern monsters. When power becomes the climate, no one can hold an umbrella. [Rainbow fart] Comment is late, sorry for that [please]