The literary era since 1979

Chapter 238 Mr. Lu Xun also said

"Seeing the smoke rising again brings back memories."

"I wish you could turn into a rainbow and fly into my dreams."

"Seeing Smoke Again" was playing on the tape recorder.

Gong Xing had a White Rabbit candy in his mouth, holding the script of "Under the Bridge" in one hand and carefully writing a character biography with the other.

"Dong dong dong."

Accompanied by a knock on the door, Gong's mother pushed the door open and walked in.

Gong Xing turned off the radio and looked back, only to see Gong's mother holding an old women's dress in her hands. He was immediately surprised and delighted.

"These are the only pieces of your old clothes."

"Enough, enough!"

"Don't be so quick to look at it. Tell me honestly, what do you want these old clothes from a few years ago for?"

"I'm going to use it as a costume."

Gong Xing said that although the clothes made for her by the crew had been "aged", she and Bai Chen felt that they were still too "new" and it would be better to use their own old clothes directly.

"So you're still determined to act in this movie?"

Mother Gong glanced at the script on the table and frowned.

Gong Xing said: "Mom, you and Dad don't have to worry, there won't be any negative impact. On the contrary, this is a good opportunity for me to break through myself, I must cherish it."

"Oh, never mind. It's up to you."

Gong's mother changed the subject and said, "But you have to promise me one thing."

Gong Xing stopped picking out clothes and asked, "What's the matter?"

"After finishing filming Under the Bridge, I will put my career aside for now and put marriage first."

"Mom, you're here again."

"What do you mean by 'I do it again'? There are many important things in life, not just acting and career, but also marriage."

Gong's mother held her daughter's hand and wouldn't let her leave.

Gong Xing had a headache. Whenever he was at home, he would be asked these questions every day. Either they were urging him to get married, or they were urging him to find a partner.

"You should do what you want to do at your age. The most important thing for you now is to find a partner. Otherwise, the older you get, the harder it will be to find one."

"..."

"Don't fool me with the idea of ​​late marriage!"

"Look at Zhao Jing. She has been married for several years."

"If you have the right one, don't waste this opportunity."

"Let's take a step back and say that if you are married and have a partner, even if Under the Bridge really has a bad influence on you, it doesn't matter, because you have a partner anyway."

Mother Gong patted the back of her hand.

"I'm not afraid of rumors."

There was determination in Gong Xing's eyes.

"Don't be afraid of ten thousand, just be afraid of what happens."

Gong's mother asked, "What if something happens? Who will take the responsibility?"

"Someone will be responsible anyway, so you don't have to worry."

Gong Xing's eyes moved and he showed a sly smile.

"Who? Who will be responsible?!"

Gong's mother was startled, surprised and suspicious, "Xiaoxiang, do you have a partner? Tell me quickly, do you have one?"

"I'm going to go change my clothes first."

Gong Xing picked up his clothes and ran out immediately.

"Where are you going to change? This is your room!"

When Gong's mother saw her hurriedly leaving, she burst out laughing. Then she thought back to her blushing face and realized that she had completely confessed.

All of a sudden, I felt relieved.

I don’t know who Xiaoxiang’s partner is.

Is he handsome? Is he good-looking? Is he talented?
While thinking about this, he was helping Gong Xing clean up the mess in the room. When he got to the table, he saw a newspaper sandwiched between a pile of dialect novels. It published the winners of the first Mao Dun Literature Prize.

…………

December 12th is the day of the first Mao Dun Literature Prize award ceremony. The standard of this award ceremony is one level higher than the National Outstanding Short and Medium Story Awards Conference.

The Mao Dun Literature Prize is the first literary award in China named after an individual. It is held in the Great Hall of the People.

A total of 600 people from the arts and literary circles witnessed the glory!

Facing the thunderous applause, Fang Yan, holding the bronze medal and certificate, stood in a row with Gu Hua, Wei Wei and others.

The camera lens was always pointed at them.

Fangyan's young face is undoubtedly a focus among the award-winning writers, but it is not the only focus.

This time, the Hunan Literary Army stole the show!
Among the seven winners, Gu Hua and Mo Yingfeng, two Hunan artists, won two seats with "Furong Town" and "General's Song".

Moreover, to be honest, since he learned to write prose using the dialect of Shen Congwen, even if he is not a member of the Hunan Army, he must be half one at least.

As soon as the award ceremony ended, Gu Hua hugged Fang Yan.

"Iwako!"

"Lao Gu, haha!"

Both of them smiled as if they had met again after a long separation. "We must have a good reunion tonight!"

"No problem. In my opinion, why not buy some good wine and food, and then go to Tiesheng's house and have a good time together?"

"Okay, it's settled!"

Gu Hua said: "When the time comes, I will definitely talk to you about the 'roots of literature'. Do you know that because of this, Shao Gong has been to Xiangxi a lot in the past few months to collect folk songs and search for Xiangchu culture."

"Really!"

The dialect was a big surprise.

Gu Hua nodded. "He went to the Miao village you mentioned, and when he came back he told me that he had found the living Xiangchu culture, and then he went to the Dong, Yao, and Tujia tribes in western Hunan..."

As the two were talking, a familiar voice suddenly came from behind.

"What are you talking about?"

"Mr. Ding Ling!"

Fang Yan and Gu Hua turned around and saw Li Yaotang leading the group, with Shen Congwen, Ding Ling, Li Qingquan, Xu Gang and others standing on his left and right.

"Hello, Mr. Ba!"

"Hello Mr. Li!"

"..."

Seeing them politely greet each other, Li Yaotang turned to look at Ding Ling, "Old Ding, if I remember correctly, they are classmates in the Literature Institute, both of them are first-class..."

"Students of the fifth term."

Ding Ling smiled and said, "Speaking of which, the creative writing class of the Literature Institute has been restored for several sessions, but in terms of results, Xiao Fang, Xiao Gu and the other students in the fifth session are still the best."

"You are a fifth-term student after all!"

When Li Qingquan, Xu Gang and other people from the institute heard this, they felt a sense of pride and were all smiles. After all, two Mao Dun Literature Prize winners emerged from these five classes of students.

"What were you discussing just now?"

As the founder and first principal of the Literature Institute, Ding Ling looked at Fang Yan and the other two students with eyes full of satisfaction.

Fangyan then told the whole story truthfully, speaking fluently.

"What I'm talking about is not a nostalgia or a sense of place, nor is it limited to the use of dialects and allegorical sayings, but a new understanding of national culture and a new examination of the land under our feet. Looking back on these things, perhaps we will have a new literary awakening."

“That’s why you mentioned ‘Lingnan literature’ and ‘Cantonese-style novels’, and why you wrote martial arts novels related to Lingnan culture.”

Shen Congwen, Wan Jiabao and others looked at each other.

"Martial arts novel!?"

Everyone who heard the news for the first time was surprised.

"Yanzi, how did you come up with the idea of ​​writing a martial arts novel?"

Xu Gang was puzzled.

Seeing his anxious look, Fang Yan immediately explained, just like what he saw in martial arts novels, where the elder of a famous and upright sect saw his most proud disciple of the righteous sect suddenly join the evil cult.

This martial arts novel is not that martial arts novel.

What I wrote was neither a martial arts novel of the Mandarin Duck and Butterfly School of the Republic of China, nor a martial arts novel in the sense of the new school of Hong Kong.

Rather, it is a historical novel based on Chinese martial arts culture.

It's called the J-10 modified version, no, it's called a variant of "historical literature".

"I've also taken the time to read Xiao Fang's novel these days. To be more precise, it's a historical novel disguised as a martial arts novel."

Li Yaotang spoke in a kind tone and praised repeatedly.

Ding Ling said: "After hearing what Xiao Fang said, I would like to read this martial arts novel."

"Me too."

Li Qingquan was very interested and curious why Fangyan and "October", as promoters of magical realism, did not go deeper into "magical realism" and launch a series of representative works.

"Mr. Li, in fact, the core of 'Latin American Magic Realism' coincides with the view that 'literature should be rooted in national and regional culture' that I mentioned."

Fangyan looked around and cleared his throat.

Gu Hua saw that he was not at all nervous in front of a group of literary giants, and he talked about the rich and diverse myths and folk traditions of Latin America and the magical and realistic characteristics of Latin American art.

"It is precisely because of this kind of national cultural soil that magical realism literature has been able to take root in Latin America."

“It is also because of magical realism literature that Latin America’s mythological folk culture traditions have been inherited and carried forward.”

"So, rather than learning the 'skin' of magical realism, I want to learn the 'spirit' of magical realism first, and think about how to root literature in the land of Chinese national culture."

The dialect makes the throat dry and slightly hoarse.

"Yes, that's right."

Shen Congwen said with emotion that he often had such thoughts when he was writing "Research on Ancient Chinese Clothing".

“A nation’s own past is easy to forget, but also not so easy to forget.”

As soon as these words came out, everyone fell silent.

"Yes, Mr. Lu Xun once said that only the people's spirit is valuable. Only when it is developed can China make real progress." Li Yaotang said, "This soul is called 'national spirit'."

Seeing everyone talking about it, Fang Yan said: "What Mr. Ba said is just like what Mr. Lu Xun said, only what belongs to the nation belongs to the world!"

When Li Yaotang and Ding Ling heard him quoting Mr. Lu Xun, they all smiled knowingly and turned their eyes to him.

There is a feeling in his eyes that his own child has grown up.

This is Mr. Mao’s last disciple!

Similarly, he is also his registered disciple!
(End of this chapter)