1980 My literary era
Chapter 934 Looking Back (Finale)
On December 13, 2000, Lin Weimin and his accompanying team returned home with great honors. They were warmly welcomed by people from all walks of life at the Capital Airport. The Capital Airport was overcrowded and crowded.
Among them were people who came spontaneously, cadres from units and organizations, colleagues from the literary and art circles, and Lin Weimin’s relatives and friends.
The cold wind in Yanjing in December was biting, but it did not stop everyone's enthusiasm in welcoming Lin Weimin back to China.
Shi Tiesheng was pushed to the front of the crowd. Lin Weimin and his family walked out of the passage and were the first to see him. They waved to him happily, but received cheers from hundreds of people in the airport. These cheers came from the heart. Lingering under the dome of the Capital Airport, it was deafening and full of joy.
Under the arrangement of official personnel, two boys and girls presented flowers to Lin Weimin. He delivered a passionate speech at the airport and accepted interviews with media reporters.
After staying at the airport for more than an hour, the welcoming crowd gradually left under the evacuation of airport security personnel, and Lin Weimin and others were finally able to walk out of the airport.
Lin Weimin leaned over to carry Shi Tiesheng into the car. He said with a smile: "I have always had Yanbing Literature Prize winners carry me on my back. This is the first time I have been carried by a Nobel Literature Prize winner."
"Isn't it all on my back?" Lin Weimin said with a smile.
After returning home, Lin Weimin briefly accepted interviews with several central media at home before taking a rest.
In the next few days, Lin Weimin was still surrounded by various interviews and activities. The wave of Nobel Prize reports that had fallen off some time ago formed a strong wave of public opinion again after he returned home with great honor. After a week of cooperation, Lin Weimin decisively refused all official invitations and activities.
For more than two months in a row, either accepting interviews or participating in activities, he had to give himself a good vacation.
But before taking a break, Lin Weimin had to participate in an important event.
The government is going to hold a literary symposium for him, and big leaders will come to participate. Lin Weimin cannot refuse this event.
December 21st, winter solstice.
In the Yanjing Hall of the People's Hall, hundreds of important figures from the national literary and art circles gathered together to participate in this literary and art symposium with Lin Weimin as the protagonist.
Lin Weimin has held many symposiums in the past twenty years, but this is the first time for him to do so at this level.
Many participants at the meeting expressed their views on Lin Weimin's past works and literary achievements. Naturally, there was a lot of praise on such an occasion.
One day later, the content from the literature and art symposium appeared in a new issue of "People's Daily".
“…The purpose of convening the literary symposium is to have a clearer understanding of Comrade Lin Weimin and to understand his position in the history of Chinese literature, the history of world literature and the historical background of China’s reform and opening up.
Since the 1980s, Comrade Lin Weimin's works have been widely disseminated at home and abroad, and have been loved by people all over the world, including the Chinese people. This is not only a reflection of his literary creation level, but also the result of his shining literary thoughts.
Over the years, the domestic reform situation has changed rapidly. We have achieved world-renowned achievements, but we have also encountered various setbacks and hardships in the process. Comrade Lin Weimin's works always reflect the development of our country's reform and opening up, recording our achievements as well as our tribulations.
But just recording contemporary times is not enough for a litterateur.
In his works, we can see ancient and modern times, both at home and abroad. There is a profound criticism of feudal society in "Farewell My Concubine", there is a satirical contempt for capitalism in "Burning", and in "The Ming Dynasty" we can see his sympathy for the common people who have cried during the rise and fall of thousands of years. Resonating with the novel, one can see his hostility and hatred towards the ruling class that only knows how to oppress the people through "Horse Trapper".
Many of his works have lofty intentions and grand vision. They are rare classics in the literary history of the Republic and occupy an important position in the history of world literature.
With one pen, he wrote all about the world, ancient and modern, Chinese and foreign. I hope that all literary and art workers in our literary and art circles can learn from Comrade Lin Weimin, not only his spirit, but also his unity of knowledge and action and his character.
On the cultural front, he represents the majority of the nation and stands at the forefront of those who are hostile to and look down upon the Chinese. He is not only the standard-bearer of Chinese literature in the new era, but also a great writer and the most loyal soldier of the Republic. "
Everyone who read the contents of the newspaper was astonished by the leader's high evaluation of Lin Weimin. This evaluation almost caught up with those deceased writers, no, it should be said that it surpassed most of the deceased writers.
The official high recognition and praise given to Lin Weimin is not only because of the Nobel Prize in Literature, but also because of his positive impact on Chinese literature and the people over the years.
His works are well-known in China and their influence reaches hundreds of millions of readers and viewers. He is the most outstanding representative writer that has emerged in the Chinese literary world since the reform and opening up.
The public outcry from the outside world had little impact on Lin Weimin. After attending the literary symposium, he appeared in Yanjing Hospital.
Mr. Wan became ill and developed a high fever the day after Lin Weimin returned from Europe.
When Lin Weimin came to the hospital, his breathing was weak and he fell into a coma. Lin Weimin's eyes flashed with eagerness and asked, "Why didn't you tell me?"
Li Yuru said: "He said that you just won the award and you have too many things to do. Don't disturb you."
Lin Weimin opened his mouth, but in the end he didn't say anything.
In the past two months, he has been busy accepting interviews and participating in activities, especially after going to Europe to receive the award. Yesterday, half of the domestic literary and art circles came to the literary symposium, but Mr. Wan did not show up. Lin Weimin then remembered to give Mr. Wan I called him to say hello, but got the news that Mr. Wan was ill in bed.
"What did the doctor say?"
"Nothing is wrong." Li Yuru's face showed a bit of sadness.
Lin Weimin's heart skipped a beat. If the problem is found, at least there is a way to treat it. But if the problem cannot be found, how to treat it?
The calmness he had developed over the years of being in a high position was broken. He felt his heart tightening and panicked.
Mr. Wan was sometimes awake and confused in the hospital bed. Lin Weimin stayed by the hospital bed for several hours. In the evening, Wan Fang called him to eat.
The hospital cafeteria was also full of the smell of disinfectant. Lin Weimin's food tasted unpalatable. When he returned to the corridor of Mr. Wan's ward, he ran into the nurse who came to see him.
"Mr. Wan is awake and wants to see you!"
Lin Weimin ran back to the ward in a hurry, took a deep breath at the door before pushing the door open and entering.
Wan Fang sat next to Mr. Wan's hospital bed. His face was haggard, but his eyes were bright, giving him a special look.
"Are you done?" Mr. Wan asked Lin Weimin with a smile.
Lin Weimin had a smile on his face and said in a relaxed tone: "How can I finish my work so quickly? I just took the time to come and see you."
"It's better to be busy. Such a big prize must be well publicized."
"That's because you didn't go to the literary symposium and didn't hear the big leaders' talk. You can't compare to my current status. Now everyone is looking forward to my cremation one day."
Mr. Wan was amused by him and gasped twice, "How old is he? He is not serious at all."
"Where's the little girl? Why didn't you come here?"
"I went to school today. I went to Europe for a week and didn't even go to school."
"Oh, I forgot."
"School should be over now. I asked Huimin to pick her up. You can watch her later."
Mr. Wan didn't ask about the Nobel Prize, nor about creation. He just chatted with Lin Weimin about daily life.
At almost six o'clock, Tao Huimin came to the hospital with a small bean bag.
The little girl hadn't seen Mr. Wan for a long time, and she was very happy when she saw him. She took out the Nobel medal she asked for from Lin Weimin from her schoolbag like a treasure.
"Grandpa, do you think this medal looks good?"
"Good-looking, really good-looking!" Mr. Wan smiled kindly.
"Doesn't it look good? It's worth a lot of money. It's made of gold." She showed off.
"It's made of gold, that's valuable."
There was a trace of struggle on Xiaodoubao's face, and then he handed the medal to Mr. Wan, "Here it is for you!"
Mr. Wan looked surprised, "Give it to me? You don't want it?"
"Mom said you are sick. I gave you this medal as a gift so that you can get well soon." Xiaodou Bao said seriously.
Mr. Wan laughed, with a look of relief on his face, "Okay, Doubao still remembers grandpa."
After being praised, Xiaodoubao looked very proud, "That's right!"
Just like his father.
As night fell, Mr. Wan was in surprisingly good condition, which made people around him feel unspeakable sadness.
Lin Weimin looked at the time, took Xiaodou Bao's hand, "Let grandpa and aunt talk more."
He looked at Mr. Wan, "You talk to your wife, senior sister, and brother-in-law for a while, and I will take her out for a meal."
The teacher and student looked at each other, and Mr. Wan smiled and nodded.
As the family of three walked out of the ward, Lin Weimin could no longer hide the sadness on his face. He took Tao Huimin's hand and squeezed it tightly.
The door to the ward opens and closes, and people come and go. By around eight o'clock in the evening, Mr. Wan was tired and all the juniors in the ward had left. Lin Weimin asked Tao Huimin to take the bean bags home while he stayed in the hospital.
The corridor outside the senior cadre ward was quiet except for the occasional sound from the nurse on duty.
Sister Wan Fang stayed in the hospital. After Mr. Wan fell asleep, she walked out of the ward and asked softly: "Do you have anything to say to him?"
Lin Weimin looked at the door of the ward, was silent for a while, and shook his head.
"Let him sleep. He is too tired and in too much pain."
Lin Weimin's soft tone touched the softness in Wan Fang's heart, and tears filled her eyes.
Over the years, Wan Fang has witnessed her father's pain with her own eyes. This pain comes from the past that has become distant, from the inability to create, and from the contradiction between his heart and reality.
As soon as the phone rings at home, Mr. Wan will go to meetings, write inscriptions, watch plays, judge awards, go on visits...
These endless mundane tasks took up the little time and energy he had left. Every time he returned home from an event, he was full of fatigue and frustration.
"These things became a drag on him and an excuse for him."
All talents are exhausted!
Those four words, for a young genius, are a curse that will torture him for the rest of his life.
Listening to Wan Fang's words, Lin Weimin stared silently into the depths of the corridor. He suddenly thought of Lu Yao who was drunk that day.
None of them said a word:
Maybe leaving is his relief.
At four o'clock in the morning, noisy footsteps sounded in the corridor of the hospital. He had not slept all night. Lin Weimin's head was groggy. He followed the footsteps of the doctors and nurses, but he was like a headless fly, not knowing what he should do.
There was a green straight line drawn on the pacemaker in the ward, and his teacher was gone.
The huge void of darkness outside the window was like a black hole swallowing his will. The fluorescent lamp on the ceiling of the ward was dimly lit, reflecting the longing figures in front of him.
Mr. Wan's body was lying on the hospital bed, his feet were bare, his belly was slightly bulging, and his face was illuminated by the ventilator mask.
Lin Weimin's eyes finally focused on that body. He touched the pale and swollen ankle, which was like the biting cold wind on the way here.
Mr. Wan really left, and he left very quietly.
While the doctors and nurses were doing the treatment, relatives flocked to the hospital. The doctor asked everyone to enter the ward to say goodbye to him. At this time, the morning light was already dimming outside the window.
Mr. Wan's funeral was taken care of by his family, so Lin Weimin didn't need to worry about it. He didn't sleep all night, and Wan Fang pushed him to have a bite of breakfast.
On a winter morning, the sky is clear and the sun shines brightly.
Standing at the door of the hospital, Xiaodoubao, who had just arrived at the hospital, took Lin Weimin's hand and asked, "Dad, has my grandpa put on my medal?"
Lin Weimin knelt down and hugged his daughter, "Put it on, grandpa likes it very much."
A few days later, it was the day for Mr. Wan's body to be cremated. The hearse drove towards Babaoshan along the crowded Chang'an Street. The body was bid farewell before cremation. Mr. Wan was covered with a white silk, and the pure morning sunlight shone on his face for the last time. Lin Weimin recalled in a daze the scene when he first saw this face.
On the Monday after New Year's Day, Lin Weimin's old Mercedes-Benz was parked outside the gate of the National Academy of Literature in Balizhuang, outside the East Fourth Ring Road.
As soon as the young security guard in the guard room saw Lin Weimin's face, he opened the door and asked Lin Weimin to park the car in the courtyard.
The car entered the courtyard. As soon as Lin Weimin got out of the car, he saw Gu Jianzhi leading a group of people to greet him.
In the past few years, the president of the National Academy of Liberal Arts has been spending time in the hospital, and the hospital is basically run by Gu Jianzhi.
"Wei Min, I've been waiting for you!" Gu Jianzhi enthusiastically held Lin Weimin's hand.
"Gu Yuan, I'm sorry to keep you waiting for so long."
"Anyway, you are so busy, it is not easy to find time to come here." Gu Jianzhi said, with a bit of solemnity on his face, and said: "My condolences about Mr. Wan."
Lin Weimin nodded and said nothing.
Gu Jianzhi introduced everyone around him to Lin Weimin one by one, mainly introducing new faces that Lin Weimin didn't know. In the past twenty years, from the Institute of Literature to the National Academy of Literature, the personnel here have changed. Tang Yuqiu has retired. That day, he and Gu Jianzhi went to the Chinese Literature Society to find Lin Weimin as a guest appearance.
There are still many acquaintances who have also retired and been transferred. Now Lin Weimin still knows very few old faces in the National College of Liberal Arts.
"Come into the building quickly, don't let everyone freeze in the courtyard."
The National College of Liberal Arts gave Lin Weimin a grand welcome. Most of the faculty and staff appeared in the courtyard. After everyone exchanged greetings, Lin Weimin greeted everyone to come inside quickly.
After Lin Weimin entered the courtyard, many students inside and outside the building focused their attention on him.
It's cloudy outside today, and the north wind has been blowing since morning.
The morning class of the School of Liberal Arts started at nine o'clock. At around eight o'clock, Lin Weimin was invited to Gu Jianzhi's office, the vice president's office, for tea and chat.
Compared with the first time he came to give lectures after the establishment of the National College of Liberal Arts in 1984, the facilities of the National College of Liberal Arts have not changed much. They are just more outdated and cannot keep up with the development of the times.
Take the desk in Gu Jianzhi's office, for example, it's still the same one he used during his days at the Institute of Literature.
"Why haven't the school conditions in the hospital improved?" Lin Weimin took the initiative to bring up the topic.
Gu Jianzhi said: "We rely on funds from the Cultural Association. We are all Qingshui Yamen. We have never had sufficient funds. It's not like you don't know this."
As he spoke, he looked at Lin Weimin's face and asked with a smile, "How about you donate some?"
Lin Weimin said happily: "Okay."
Gu Jianzhi's eyes lit up, "Really? Are you really going to donate?"
He originally saw Lin Weimin talking about it, and it seemed that he brought it up intentionally, so he took the initiative to test it.
"I've already said it, can it still be false?" Lin Weimin looked relaxed, "I am a person trained by the Institute of Literature and Art, so I should contribute something."
Gu Jianzhi was overjoyed, holding Lin Weimin's hand and thanking him again and again.
For Lin Weimin, donating some money to the National College of Liberal Arts to upgrade its hardware facilities is not a burden.
Gu Jianzhi just mentioned Mr. Wan. If he had not been trained at the Institute of Literature, he and Mr. Wan would not have had this teacher-student relationship.
The courtyard of the National College of Liberal Arts is not large, covering an area of about 3,000 square meters. It does not cost much to renovate the building. Even if it is to add some advanced teaching facilities, it will stop at 10 million.
Lin Weimin briefly communicated with Gu Jianzhi and settled on the matter.
At nine o'clock, the familiar yet unfamiliar bell rang, and Lin Weimin came to the large classroom. There were more than thirty students in this class of the Institute of Literature.
Seeing Lin Weimin walk in, the originally noisy large classroom suddenly became quiet. The students' breathing seemed to be a little lighter, and their eyes followed Lin Weimin's footsteps, full of admiration and admiration.
The age of this batch of students is generally around thirty years old, with a few younger or older students dotted among them, which is somewhat similar to Lin Weimin's situation back then.
Walking onto the podium, Lin Weimin looked calm and looked at the many students in the audience. He seemed to see the scene from twenty years ago before his eyes.
At that time, he had just left the rural environment, came to Yanjing, and came to the Literary Research Institute. He was like a street kid, getting along with his classmates, and famous teachers teaching and solving doubts...
"Hello fellow students, I'm glad to see you at the National College of Liberal Arts."
Lin Weimin, who had just won the Nobel Prize for Literature, stood on the podium. Even a simple greeting made the students in the audience feel a powerful aura.
This kind of aura is of course their own imagination. Lin Weimin came to the National Academy of Liberal Arts today and said he was invited to give a lecture, but what can he say in one class?
But now that we are here, in addition to exchanging experiences, we must also talk about some practical information.
The students who come to the National Academy of Liberal Arts for further studies must have had their works published in publications, and they are even moderately famous writers.
However, as Lin Weimin and others did back then, there are now very few writers who have won national awards among the students.
After communicating with this group of authors who were far from rich in creative experience, Lin Weimin divided the lecture into two parts.
The first is to tell you about some creative experiences from the perspective of a writer, and the second is to tell you about the review experience, likes and dislikes of editors from the perspective of editors.
The students were listening to the lecture below, and by comparing the two aspects, many things that they had been ignorant of before suddenly became enlightened.
"There's still some time left, so I'll stay here for everyone to ask questions."
After the one-and-a-half-hour lecture, Lin Weimin took a sip of tea to moisten his throat. Listening to the teacher summarizing what he had taught in the class, he felt that he had summarized it better than himself.
Today Lin Weimin was invited to give a lecture at the National College of Liberal Arts. In addition to the tutor, many other teachers in the college were also sitting in the audience. After all, there are not many opportunities to listen to lectures by Nobel Prize winners in literature.
After the teacher in class summarized Lin Weimin's lecture, he began to ask students to ask questions.
"Mr. Lin, as we all know, you have just won the recognition of the Nobel Prize for Literature. In your creative career, you have also received recognition from well-known domestic and foreign literary awards such as the Yanbing Literature Prize and the Goncourt Prize, but it seems that None of them are as loud as the Nobel Prize in Literature this time. I would like to ask, what do you think of the influence of the Nobel Prize in Literature around the world?"
A student asked a question about the Nobel Prize in Literature that Lin Weimin had just won, which attracted the attention of many teachers and students in the audience. Everyone seemed very interested in this topic.
"The Nobel Prize has existed for 100 years from its first session in 1901 to this year. It has not only been in the past twenty years that it has gained widespread popularity around the world.
To put it simply, the influence of the Nobel Prize comes from three aspects.
The first is the bonus. You must know that when the Nobel Prize was first established 100 years ago, it did not have the reputation it has now. The reason why it has attracted the attention of the scientific community around the world is inseparable from its generous prize money. Scientists are human beings, and wealth is equally attractive to them.
As far as I know, when the Nobel Prize was first awarded in 1901, the prize for each award was 150,000 Swedish kronor, which was equivalent to the salary of a Swedish professor for 20 years at the time. In European countries, professors' salaries belong to the middle-to-high-income group.
Such a huge sum of money is enough to make most scientists around the world flock to it.
Second, it is stable operation. This is inseparable from the Nobel Foundation's successful management of Mr. Nobel's legacy, and it is also inseparable from the fact that Sweden has not been affected by large-scale wars for a long time. Although the Nobel Prize was suspended for several years due to World War I and World War II, its foundation was not damaged and its influence could still be quickly restored after the war.
Third, the birth time is long enough. It is unrealistic to achieve an award that is authoritative around the world without time. The worldwide influence of the Nobel Prize is not achieved in a day or two. The influence of the award will be accumulated with every successful and fair award.
Personally, I am envious of the influence of the Nobel Prize, and I hope that an authoritative award with global influence like this can be born in our country.
After all, award evaluation is also a kind of discourse power and an evaluation system. It is not a good thing for us to be enveloped by other people's values for a long time.
I don’t know if you are satisfied with this question of mine? "
After answering the students' questions, Lin Weimin asked with a smile.
The student who asked the question nodded hurriedly.
Next, another student asked a question and said: "We all know that you entered the Chinese literary world from the Institute of Literature, the predecessor of the National Academy of Letters, and now you have become an important writer in the world's literary world. I would like to ask you what you thought about the Institute of Literature back then. What role did that learning experience play in your life? Are there any lessons you can teach us?"
Lin Weimin pondered for a moment after hearing this question.
"The study experience at the Institute of Literary Studies is the most valuable experience in my life. If you ask what role it played, I think it can be said that without the Institute of Literary Studies, there would be no one in the Chinese literary world. A writer named Lin Weimin. I may be farming or doing business, or I may occasionally have some leisure time to play and write something.
As for what I can teach you, I think writers should put themselves first, not only letting go of past works and achievements, but also letting go of the admiration for literature in their hearts. Don’t regard it as an unattainable art, and don’t rest on your laurels. Go out among the masses to see, listen, experience, and feel, and create literature that truly belongs to the general public. It is far more important to make literature reach a wider audience than to generalize literature as noble. "
At the end of Lin Weimin's answer, the audience burst into warm applause.
At this time, the bell rang outside the classroom, and the teacher in class said: "Okay, thank you Teacher Lin for your wonderful teaching today. That's it for today's class."
get out of class was over, but the teachers and students in the audience did not disperse. Instead, they crowded around the podium. Everyone had Lin Weimin's books in their hands and asked him for his autograph.
After spending more than ten minutes signing, Lin Weimin was able to walk out of the classroom. Only then did he realize that it was already snowing outside.
Snowflakes fall from the sky like endless flowers blooming in the hazy winter day.
Gu Jianzhi invited Lin Weimin to have lunch in the courtyard before leaving. He looked at the snow outside and said, "I won't eat anymore. It's hard to drive on the road when the snow is heavy."
Gu Jianzhi didn't try to persuade him anymore. Lin Weimin told him a few more words about donating the building, and agreed to find a time to talk later, and then came to the courtyard.
His car was parked next to the gate. When the guard saw him coming out, he opened the gate for him. The gate had two doors. Lin Weimin also stepped forward to hold the hand.
A high-rise building is being built opposite the National Institute of Liberal Arts. It is currently halfway through construction, and it seems that the construction should be suspended during the winter.
"What is this building for?"
"They said they were going to build a big hotel, called Regency Bay."
Lin Weimin looked at the tall buildings in front of him, feeling in a trance.
Suddenly he heard a voice shouting.
"Lin Weimin!"
Looking back, there was only a vast expanse of white.
(End of text)
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