Feng Jicai: Missing Lao Lu

Feng Jicai: Missing Lao Lu

I often think of Lao Lu these days. Thinking of those unforgettable fragments of the past, and his face that was always gentle and peaceful, just like the water town in the south of the Yangtze River.

Lao Lu is what I call him. Guowen and Wang Meng called him Wenfu. They are a generation. People in the world are divided into generations, and the literary world is divided into generations. A generation in the world is 20 years old, but a generation in the literary world is 10 years old. I regard the previous generation of literary friends as my elder brothers. Lao Lu is my affectionate and respectful name for him.

Lao Lu and I rarely interacted with each other in the south and north. We met by chance at a meeting in Beijing. We all gathered together for dinner, and Lao Lu sat among them. He didn’t talk much, but having him around made me feel more cordial. He is the kind of person who doesn't feel a little bit strange or estranged even after seeing him for many years. He sat there in silence, watching Cong Weixi show off his strength and teach me, or Zhang Xianliang bragging about how his Western Cinema was unparalleled in the world, never interrupting, just listening with a smile on his face. I like his silent smile. Gentle, generous, and understanding, he always had an appreciation—even enjoyment—for these friends with very different personalities.

This cannot be simply explained as "keeping aloof from the world". No writer can be a peacemaker in terms of ideological principles. Anyone who has read his "The Wall" or even "The Gourmet" will feel the needle light in the tip of his pen. It's just that he often hides the needle in the thick of things. I think this comes from both his nature and his view of novels. He belongs to that kind of artistic writer who treats novels as a textual and literal art. Gao Xiaosheng and Wang Zengqi are like this. They pay great attention to skills, but not technical, but artistic and aesthetic.

Once I went to Wuxi for a meeting and went to Suzhou to visit him. He accompanied me to visit the gardens of Humble Administrator and Master of Nets. While touring the gardens, I listened to him talk about Suzhou gardens. He said that the most wonderful thing about Suzhou gardens is not that they are exquisite and exquisite, but that they are twists and turns and are endless. Every winding path and corridor never ends. Sometimes you think you've reached the end, but there must be a little door or window there. Pushing away and looking around, there is another view. At this point, his eyes flashed and he said: "It's like a short story, wrapped one layer after another." I continued: "It's also like eating a peach. Eat the peach flesh, but there is a core inside. Crack open the core. , another white, bright and fragrant peach kernel." Lao Lu was very happy after hearing this and couldn't help but said: "Da Feng, you know the novel."

At this time, a hall by the water appeared in front of him. There are strange rocks on all sides, surrounded by bamboo trees, and the shadows of water and flowers are projected into the hall. In the center of the hall are tables and chairs for entertaining guests, and a porcelain jar with azure pigment glaze, with some long and short books inserted in the jar. Scroll scroll. Whenever friends come to visit, the owner of the garden invites the guests to enjoy calligraphy and paintings here. There is a plaque hanging in front of the hall, which reads "Listen to the Songs and Read the Painting Hall". Lao Lu asked me why I wrote "reading paintings" instead of "viewing paintings". Can paintings be read? I said that this is probably related to the emphasis on literature in Chinese painting. The ancients often said that "poetry and painting complement each other" or "poems are invisible paintings, and paintings are tangible poems". These poetic and literary qualities are hidden in the paintings. You can't just see them with your eyes, you have to read them to understand the meaning. Lao Lu said, in fact, you also need to study gardening. The real mystery of Suzhou gardens is that there is poetry and literature in them. I have heard of only two people who have such a thorough understanding of Suzhou gardens: one is the garden master Chen Congzhou - he said that Suzhou gardens have a bookish style; the other is Lao Lu, who single-handedly gave the key to appreciating Suzhou gardens and even Chinese gardens. :read.

Reading is to understand the inner meaning of gardens from the perspective of literature and poetry.

I remember that in the evening, Lao Lu hosted a banquet for me in Deyue Tower. When I sat down at the table, I thought to myself, today I am going to find out what the true skills of this gourmet are. Every dish at the banquet was of exquisite quality, with excellent color and aroma, but there was no trace of the gourmand’s extraordinary attention to detail. After the meal, a soup was served at the end. It didn't look like a beautiful liquid, but it was refreshing and delicious in the mouth. Drinking it made the stomach and intestines comfortable and the mouth and tongue were happy. It immediately elevated this delicious meal to a high level. Everyone said hello again and again. Lao Lu said with a smile: "The key to a good meal is the soup at the end. If the soup is not good, it will completely cover up the taste of the dishes in front; if the soup is good, the aftertaste will be endless." Then his eyes flashed again, as if he had an inspiration. He looked at me and said: "It's like the end of a novel."

I smiled and said: "Lao Lu, everything about you is related to the novel."

Then I understood Lao Lu better Why is the novel so exquisite, thorough, implicit and meaningful? He is not only good at getting inspiration for writing from life, but also good at finding the mystery of the art of novels from various meaningful things.

However, Lao Lu is not shrewd in life, and is even a bit "bumpy". I heard a joke about how "conservative" he was to the extreme. It was the mid-1980s, and Lao Lu was elected president of the Chinese Writers Association. It is said that the local government in Suzhou did not know what the "level" of his position was and what "standards" he should be treated according to. When he called Beijing, the answer was very vague and only said that it was "equivalent to deputy provincial level." This alarmed the local government. Suzhou also There was no such big official, so he was quickly given a two-story building and a small car. The first time Lao Lu received foreign guests in his new residence, he made a joke. Come, but the entrance to the building is narrow and the car can only get off from one side. Lao Lu is sitting outside and should get off first. But out of politeness, Lao Lu lets the guests get off first. The guests can't get out from inside. But Lu insisted on being humble, and in the end the international friend had no choice but to say "I'm sorry", then stretched out his long legs to cross over Lao Lu and jumped out of the car.

When I saw Lao Lu later, I verified this literary article with him. The authenticity of the anecdote. Lao Lu waved his hands and said nothing. He just smiled. I don’t know whether he was denying this nonsense or was ashamed to mention it again.

I will always remember another incident when I waved my hand. It was the winter of 1991 when I held a painting exhibition at the Shanghai Art Museum. I rented a truck and drove a truck full of picture frames from Tianjin. When passing through Suzhou at four o'clock in the morning, the driver fell into a ditch on the side of the road while he was dozing. I didn't know about this at the time, but Lu Wenfu, who was in Suzhou, heard the news. With their care, my car was pulled out of the ditch with a tow truck and taken to a car factory in Suzhou for repairs. They also had all the glass in the frame fixed. This enabled my art exhibition in Shanghai to open smoothly three days later. Otherwise, I would have missed the important event. I called Lao Lu several times afterwards, but I couldn't find him. I met him in Beijing soon and thanked him in person. He also waved his thin hand and said nothing. p>

His loyalty, his friendship, and his sincerity are all reflected in this wave of his hand. With this wave of his hand, all the politeness in the world was wiped away, leaving only his sincerity. Feel his temperament. This temperament is just like the tranquility, peace, simplicity and thoroughness of the Jiangnan water town, and it still has the charm of the place where he was born and raised than other artists. Temperament. Writers are often the spirits of that land, such as Lao She and Beijing, Lu Xun and Shaoxing, and Balzac and Paris. Their lives gradually merge with the life of the land. As a whole - from spirit to image, this reminds us that when we think of Lao Lu, the unique scene of Suzhou always flashes before our eyes. Therefore, on the days when Lao Lu passed away, he started painting three or four times in a row. My wife looked at the paintings of Jiangnan water towns and said that the artistic conception of these Jiangnan water towns is very special. It is surprisingly quiet, yet very lively, and seems to have a lingering sentiment. After listening to it, I understood it. , I miss Lao Lu.