Library

This book is a selection of prose about the Silk Road by the famous contemporary writer Chen Shixu. Chen Shixu's prose is like a piece of Chinese painting. Beyond a few strokes, there is a vast blank space. The hidden meanings and unexpected meanings make people think of each other. His writing is concise, concise, vigorous and majestic, steeped in ancient connotations and full of vigorous modernity. He loves nature and attaches great importance to mountains and rivers. He is full of love for mountains when climbing and overflowing with meaning when looking at the sea. He reads articles about the earth and searches for the sea from the perspective of aesthetics and worldview, continuing the infinite tension and splendid tradition of Chinese characters since ancient times.

I have read through the poems written by famous writers since the Eastern Jin Dynasty about Lushan Mountain. In addition to the cultural landscape, I have sung all the wind, rain, smoke, clouds, snow, fog, dew, rocks, caves, peaks, gorges, tan, streams, springs, waterfalls, flowers, grass, trees and bamboos. However, I have somehow forgotten the moon, which is one of the major themes of ancient and modern poetry. There are almost no poems dedicated to moonlight. Li Bai "loves the ballads of Mount Lu", but his last song in Mount Lu was about waterfalls. Occasionally there are sentences such as "the moon hangs on the stone mirror", but it is to compare the moon with the stone; Su Shi wrote in "The First Shu Yu Pavilion" that "the silver palace is swaying, and the Crystal Palace is sinking", which is just a glimpse of the realm of Shu Yu Pavilion; Lu You is sitting in Donglin Temple listening to the bell, but thinking about "playing with the moon in front of Xisai Mountain" ", it seems that there is no moon in Lushan Mountain; if you wear the retro "Gui dyed Mid-Autumn Moonlight Fragrance", you will understand that the moon is stained with the light of osmanthus; Zhao Mengxi's "Water Curtain Spring" that writes more accurately about the moon: "The flying sky is like a jade curtain, thousands of feet down, and the new moon is like a curtain hook, hanging in the sky in the distance."

My youth, the precious years of life, belongs to it. I lived on a small sandbank at the mouth of Poyang Lake for nearly ten years. I am sowing hope here, sweating, and blood. Life has used huge, even terrifying storms and floods, as well as the warm sunshine and the wind that blows the sails, to forge the boat of my life roughly yet tenderly, ruthlessly yet generously. After that, my profound experiences of joy and pain, my very warm and very gloomy emotions, and even the source of my creative inspiration, my aesthetic ideals, and the passion and emotion of my artistic pursuit were all connected with it.

Many people have the psychology of seeking fame. Therefore, people flock to famous mountains, famous rivers, famous scenery, famous buildings, famous pavilions, famous gardens, famous temples, famous rocks and famous trees. They gather together with friends and relatives, help the old and the young, walk shoulder to shoulder, and come and go like a weave. Hence the saying "Don't attack Mount Tai when you return, don't look at Mount Huang when you return". If it's just for the sake of conquering Mount Tai and Huangshan, there's nothing wrong with it.

It's a good rain: in mid-spring, it's like smoke, drifting down silently. And everything that is shrouded: banyan trees, eucalyptus trees, palm trees, phoenix trees, bougainvillea and water lilies, green grass, cobblestone roads, boulders, sculptures, pavilions, bridges and archways, are looming, yet wet and transparent. Everything becomes hazy because of the rain, and everything becomes bright because of the hazyness. All the dust disappears in the rain, and all the restlessness stops in the rain. Leaving behind a rich green, a pure blue, and a clean mood. The washed soul flies out of the body and dances lightly in the rain. The news of spring is everywhere, and the rhythm of vigorous life is everywhere.

Wei Tianliang stared at the ceiling, half-opening his square crocodile mouth, listening to Lin Huiying read the script. The doctor stipulates that each session should not exceed twenty minutes. But every time Lin Huiying wanted to close the script, Wei Tianliang's hands spread out on the quilt would move violently. Lin Huiying had to read another paragraph. Many days later, after reading the script, Wei Tianliang closed his eyes and took a nap quietly. After waking up, he motioned Lin Huiying to bring the script closer to him. Little by little, he moved his finger to his name, which was ranked first among the three names on the screenwriter's list. He raised a finger and wanted to scratch it but couldn't control it. Lin Huiying suddenly realized that she quickly took out a pen from her bag and crossed out the words "Danger Tianliang", leaving only the name of director Chen Zhihe. Wei Tianliang has repeatedly said before that as long as "Old Jade Ring" can be filmed and broadcast, it will be fine. He will never sign his name. He does not want people to think that it is his son who is setting a monument for his parents. In addition, if there are royalties, no matter how much, they will be donated to Qinqin's school. The filming and broadcast of "Old Jade Ring" went smoothly. The screenwriter only signed Wei Tianliang's name in a black box.

A friend who is engaged in literary theory once wrote to me, saying that their Salon believes that literature has reached such an era: it is necessary to redefine what literature is and what is not literature. I don't think this discussion is meaningless. But I understand the significance of this discussion in this sense: that is, this is also a kind of life. Everyone is looking for their own foothold and their own life in the living space. There is a lot of living space. There's enough range for everyone. This is also my understanding of the literary activities I engage in: literature is a kind of life. Just like the work of a great politician and the labor of an ordinary cleaner, it is a kind of life and an activity of survival.

One year, I went to a meeting out of town. One of the people who came to pick me up was a local female writer. As soon as the guests got on the bus, she gave each of them a book she had recently published. The cover of the book was a full portrait of her, and the title page was her profile. It was not simple, but very detailed, detailing the different administrative and professional positions she had held in different units. Naturally, we were in awe. Unexpectedly, she herself felt that the information was not enough, so she suddenly took the initiative to introduce to everyone that she was the in-laws of a certain secretary. "Secretary X" is obviously not the branch secretary of a certain street neighborhood committee, but most of us from out of town are ignorant of politics and don't know how to respond appropriately, so our expressions can't help but feel a little stiff.

A city is a geographical area and a way of settlement that are different from rural areas created in the development of human society. The city is full of high-rise buildings, bustling with traffic, densely populated, and rich in materials. It is carrying out numerous economic activities, information exchanges, and interpersonal interactions all the time; different styles and genres of literature, film, television, art, music, dance, and opera are being spread all the time... The city is not only a place that has nurtured and carried the history of civilization for thousands of years, but also a center that brings together modern social politics, economy, culture, science and technology, education and other modern civilizations.

Birch Ridge is not just about oak trees. Fish-scale pine, pitch pine, Chinese fir pine, oak tree, color tree, acacia, black locust, Qingtong, and hazelnut trees are all over the mountains and slopes. All the trees were tightly surrounded by bushes. The dense shrubs were bustling with whippets, wild lilacs, foxtails, peonies, wild roses, broom plums... The company commander gave us directions along the way, leading us along the path that was soft and soft from the rotten fallen leaves over the years. We heard that the company commander was going down the mountain to pick up his wife, who was visiting relatives from Guan Nei, and we specifically asked to come with him. Passing through dense woods exuding a strong scent of resin and strawberries, and passing through forest clearings with sparse trees and a little sunshine, the dew-soaked shrubs and grasses pouring onto the road on both sides brushed our trouser legs and arms diligently, like a silent and timid caress.

In comparison, people who are not burdened by reputation are much happier. There is no need to wave, shake hands, bow, or bow; there is no need to search for inscriptions, toasts, and white speeches; when you have eaten enough, drank enough, chatted enough, and left, there is no need to worry about who you have left behind, who you have neglected, or who has lost some dignity. Go alone and get what you want. The benefits may not be less, and the effort may not be too much. After coming down, I took a relaxing bath, changed into fresh clothes, held a diary, and sat quietly on the sofa. Thinking about this, I feel quite fulfilled and comfortable. Although he is not particularly valued by anyone, after all, he spends a lot of time for himself.

At that time, rebellion was the popular color at Eastern University. The direct object of the rebellion was the antiquity of Eastern University itself. Radical people feel that this antiquity brings a suffocating dullness. Any novelty that breaks the dullness, even something like a barking dog in a bel canto chorus, will elicit applause from them. It was against this background that several talents, led by Kuang Daming, a master's student in the Department of Chinese Language and Literature, came up with the idea of ​​putting Qu Yuan's "Mountain Ghost" on the stage. As they expected, the idea sparked sharply polarizing reactions. Roughly speaking, among those who support it, young people express appreciation, middle-aged people express understanding, and old people express tolerance. Similarly, there are fierce opponents among the three age groups. The key lies in Shangui's stage attire. According to the arrangement and design of the talented people, the mountain ghost who was led by Xue Lixi could hardly be said to have any clothes.

A poor student who only smiled when he was in school was often the target of ridicule by his classmates and teachers. However, he failed in the college entrance examination but benefited from the help of officials and found a job in a city agency. Although he only helped the leaders run errands every day, many years later, he made many classmates who used to laugh at him feel ashamed. What makes him so powerful and able to reverse his destiny? Xiahou Yangguang appeared several days after school started. Our school is the best key high school in the province. The admission score for the high school entrance examination and the admission rate for the college entrance examination have always been the highest in the province. Every time when it comes to recruiting students for the high school entrance examination, the school leaders overtly and covertly crowd out the students. Some carry approval slips from the central government to their immediate superiors, some carry large and small red envelopes or bank cards, and there are many approval slips, red envelopes, and bank cards. In the past, major and minor school leaders had been replaced several times.

The protagonist Feng Le, as an intellectual who has not completely lost his spirit of introspection, is always unable to escape from mental confusion and crisis under the temptation of desire. On the one hand, he obeyed the call of desire and repeatedly betrayed his feelings; on the other hand, he fell into moral law and was filled with guilt and self-blame. The novel is cleverly conceived, written with sophisticated writing skills, and has far-reaching intentions. It reveals the gray physical and mental state of contemporary intellectuals and the symmetrical world state in a profound way, and invites people to self-examine. Chen Shixu, a member of the Chinese Writers Association. I have been writing since the 1980s. Now lives in Guangzhou.

The high-spirited ones shout here; the sad ones cry here; the strong ones rush here; the cowardly ones hide here; the angry ones roar here; the melancholy ones meditate here; the injured ones groan here; the enlightened ones repent here; the sober ones smile here; the dreaming ones babble here; the ones who live freely and unrestrainedly sing the wind and the moon here; the ones who live in hardship sigh here; the broad-minded ones look forward to the future of mankind here; the narrow-minded ones complain about life here. The good luck is here; the moralists are preaching here; the sluts are here to flirt and flirt; the elegant ones are here to drink and sing; the rude ones are spitting here; the inexperienced people are here to dance and play; the people who have seen through the world are here to play tricks. Xuanxu; the emperor sings the wind here; the beggar breaks the bowl here; the spring breeze is here to admire the flowers; the unappreciated talent is here to complain... As far as the human soul can drift, so is the world of literature.

Chen Shixu, winner of the Lu Xun Literature Prize, "walked" for the first time. His prose passionately describes rivers, grasslands, forests, lakes, mountains, canyons, oceans, wilderness, cities and their history and humanity, examines the relationship between oneself and nature, and explores the spiritual issues of contemporary people. It is a work that "settles the soul". He has been creating for decades, never following trends, staying true to his own life and his own literary pursuits. Combining traditional prose writing methods with new life content, you can feel the author's unique natural aesthetics and prose aesthetics by reading the works.

There are many stories about people living by the lake. After the Manchu period, there are grievances and grievances, but before the Manchu period, the grievances are unresolved, there are mistakes and right and wrong, but it is nothing more than a pot of brown sugar poached eggs. What happened on the shore of Po Lake? After loading the last cart of cotton stalks, the sun had gone down for a long time. Manzi, who was Youyi's rival, drove the ox cart to the road and suddenly said: "You can drive back all at once. I'll finish planting the half of the wheat that was left behind." Manzi, who had returned from high school the summer before last, had become a big black guy in the blink of an eye, just like the people of his age. Because his skin is dark, his eyes are as bright as two lamps. Under the fluffy beard, his teeth were as white as jade, and his voice had become older, sounding like a duck croaking.

It's a terrible car. At the county station, he just refused to move. The station attendant, who was often bad-tempered, shouted and shouted at everyone to get on the bus. When it was time to depart, the driver couldn't start the engine for a long time. Finally, there was a loud noise like an earthquake, and the car was filled with panic and curses. After leaving the county town, there is a very gentle but long slope. The car was panting and crawling, and finally it went uphill, but that side was steep. On rainy days, the road surface becomes slippery. The driver kept yelling and cursing, holding back his anger, and the car was driving without any control. Just let it slide down, and before it reached the bottom of the slope, the car plunged into a mud pit on the side of the road.