The 128 most classic philosophical essays in the world

Chapter 107 The Battle Between Father and Son

[China] Yu Hua
Life is like war, even between father and son.

One of my earliest punishments for my son was to raise his voice when he was under [-] years old and when he realized I was not talking but shouting he knew he was in a bad position and opened his eyes wide Frightened eyes carefully observed my further behavior.After he was two years old, my yelling gradually lost its effect. He was just startled at most, and then he pretended nothing had happened.I started to increase the stakes of punishment, and carried him into the bathroom. The small space made him afraid, and he would cry "wow" in the bathroom, and then he kept admitting his mistakes.This kind of punishment didn't last long, and he got used to the environment of the bathroom. Instead of crying, he sang songs in it. He tried his best to convey the signal to me—"I'm happy here."

Then I could only carry him outside the house. When the door was closed all of a sudden, he found that the space he faced was not too small, but too big. He reawakened his panic, and his reaction was like Just like when he entered the bathroom, Howling Tao burst into tears.But as the number of times he was carried outside the house increased, his crying disappeared, and he learned how to make himself sit quietly on the stairs, which instead made me panic and uneasy.His silence made me wonder what was going on outside, and I began to worry that something would happen to him, so I could only stop my punishment immediately and open the door to ask him to come back.As my son was approaching four, he knew to rebel.There have been a few times when I've just carried him outside the door and he's off the ground and running back inside the house with unbelievable speed and closing the door behind him.He locked me out of the house.Now, he is five years old, and after I have run out of ways to punish him, I can only start the most primitive program and beat him up.Just yesterday, when he realized I might be punishing him, he was walking around the room like a little rascal, saying loudly, "Daddy, I'm waiting for you to beat me!"

I notice that my son is dealing with me now much like I was dealing with my own father when I was a kid.The son is always learning how to deal with his father more effectively, which makes the father feel more and more helpless; makes the father realize that his victory is actually short-lived, while the failure is long-lasting; It is disintegrating the authority of the father.Life is like war, even between father and son.When the son grows up, the father-son war is likely to end.But another battle begins, and the father's son will taste the constant failure of fatherhood, and the long failure.

I don't know how I fought my father until I was five years old, and my memory omits all battles at that time.The earliest successful example I remember was pretending to be sick. At that time, I was already in elementary school. I realized the wonderful relationship between my father and me, that is to say, my father is my relative. deadly.My first faux pas started with a stupid idea, and now I have forgotten what prompted me to feign a sickness. All I can remember is that I pretended to have a fever and told my father that way, and my father listened to me. After the presentation of my illness, my first reaction—almost without thinking—was to stretch out his hand and put it on my forehead.Only then did I realize that I had made a fatal mistake. I even forgot that my father was a doctor. I thought it was over. Not only would I not be able to escape the previous punishment, but I would also face a new punishment.

Fortunately I got away with it, and when my father's discerning hand realized that I had nothing wrong with him, he didn't think about whether I was lying to him, but expressed his great displeasure at my inactivity all day.He angrily reprimanded me, warning me that I can't sit or lie down at home all day, and I should go for a run outside, even if it is to bask in the sun.Then he told me clearly that I don't have any disease, my disease is that I don't like to exercise, and then he asked me to go out, do whatever I like, and come back in two hours.My father's anger was suddenly diverted because of his concern for my body, making him forget about my mistakes just now and his ongoing punishment, and suddenly gave me a final decision of acquittal.I ran away immediately, and then stood in a safe place far away, sweating profusely thinking about the accident just now. The result of thinking is that no matter what critical situation arises in the future, I will not be able to pretend to have a fever.

So, my performances about illness went deep into the body.For a year or two, I often faked a stomachache, and it worked.Since I was too picky about food as a kid, I was often constipated, which largely excused my tummy aches.Whenever I do something wrong, my stomach hurts when I realize that my father's face is sinking.At the beginning, I could still feel that I was pretending to be in pain, but later it turned into a conditioned reflex. Whenever my father got angry, my stomach would hurt immediately, and even I couldn't tell whether it was true or not.But this is not important to me anymore, what is important is my father's reaction, at that time my father's anger would always be transferred to my choice of food, warning me that if I continue like this and don't like to eat anything, It's not just that I'm constipated anymore, but the growth of my body and brain will suffer from it.It was the concern for my body that made him forget the punishment he should have given me. Although he seemed more angry, I could easily bear this kind of anger due to the change in nature.

My tricks of pretending to be sick gradually intensified, and eventually it was no longer to escape my father's punishment, but to get rid of housework such as sweeping or mopping the floor.Once I was self-defeating. When I claimed that I had a stomachache, my father touched my lower right abdomen. He asked me if it was this place. I nodded repeatedly, and then my father asked me if my chest hurt first. I Still nodded, and then my father asked me completely according to the symptoms of appendicitis, and I nodded all the time.In fact, at that time, I couldn't figure out whether it was real pain or fake pain. I just felt that wherever my father's strong hand pressed, it hurt.Then, that night, I lay down on the operating table in the hospital, and two nurses tied my hands and feet to the operating table.At that time, I was full of confusion, and my father's firm demeanor made me think that I might have appendicitis attack, but I also thought that I was just pretending to be in pain at first, even though it was really painful when my father's hand pressed up.My mind was spinning and I didn't know how to deal with what was going to happen next. I remember saying very weakly: "I don't hurt now." I hoped that they would abandon the operation that was already prepared, but None of them paid me any attention.At that time, my mother was the head nurse in the operating room. I remember she covered my face with a piece of cloth, and there was an opening where my mouth was, and then the bitter powder was poured into my mouth. I don't know anything.

When I woke up, I was already sleeping in my bed at home.I felt my brother's head get into my bed, and I shrank back immediately, yelling: "He farts, it stinks." Then I saw my parents standing in front of the bed, they were crying because of my brother just now laughed.And just like that, my appendix was removed and I farted before I woke up from the anesthesia, which means the operation was a success and I will recover soon.Many years later, I asked my father whether the appendix he saw when he opened my stomach should be removed.My dad told me it should be removed because my appendix was a bit red and swollen at the time.I wondered what "a little red and swollen" meant. Although my father admitted that taking medicine could cure the "slight red and swollen", he insisted that surgery was the most correct solution.Because to the surgeons of that era, not only a "slightly red and swollen" appendix should be removed, but a perfectly healthy appendix should not be kept.My opinion is not the same as my father, I think it is self-inflicted.

Heart mark notes
Life is a series of reincarnations, allowing parents and children to constantly change their roles in each reincarnation.One day, the son will become a father, and the daughter will become a mother. The son and daughters who have a second identity begin to understand the hard work and exhaustion of parents.At the same time, they love their children in a similar way to their parents, repeating the most beautiful reincarnation in the world.In the meantime, the endless battles between father and son, and mother and daughter are staged in turn in life. The faint "smell of gunpowder" and strong family affection make people smile and move people.

(End of this chapter)