Shen Congwen: There are countless cities in this world, but you are the one that has never been fortified.

1May, 988,1May, Shen Congwen died, and nothing seemed to happen at home.

Three days later, on May 13, China News Service sent a message, which was extremely simple.

14 published a report in Wenyi Bao, with 50 words.

On June 6, 65438, Shanghai Xinmin Evening News also published a report-the source was actually Hong Kong.

Ba Jin spent several days reading newspapers in his homes in Shanghai and Beijing, but he couldn't find the names of his old friends.

He wondered: Is Shen Congwen's obituary late? What are people waiting for?

Some people say that it may be that the status of literary history is not well arranged and a suitable title cannot be found. Indeed, it is difficult to find Shen Congwen in the history of China literature.

Some people say that we should invigorate the economy now. Who cares about the life and death of a writer? With a pen, you can increase production?

Ba Jin can't answer.

The so-called literary history and the so-called economy are nothing more than the same truth: the times have never stopped for individuals.

Phoenix, located in Xiangxi, is the origin of Shen Congwen's life story.

Most people who have read Shen Congwen will imagine a phoenix with beautiful scenery, independence and simple folk customs.

But I can't believe it: the history of this small town is full of tyranny and blood.

In order to help the Miao people, the Qing Dynasty sent a garrison. Around this lonely city, there are about 4,000 to 5,000 bunkers, dense and dense, like a group of behemoths that monitor and suppress the Miao people. Tyranny, and the resistance caused by this tyranny, dyed every road and every bunker red.

By 1902, when Shen Congwen was born, most of the bunkers had been destroyed, the military houses had become private houses, and most of the Miao people had assimilated. Only at dusk, standing on the height of the lonely city and overlooking the bunker far and near, can we vaguely imagine the scene of that year.

Shen Congwen's grandfather is a soldier. He fought Taiping rebels with Xiang army, as well as Hui people and Miao people. He earned an industry for his family, but was later defeated by Shen Congwen's father.

Shen Fu guarded Dagubao in his early years. When Eight-Nation Alliance captured Tianjin, the fortress fell, destroying his life, fame and most industries. After the founding of the Republic of China, he originally wanted to run for the Hunan Provincial Assembly. After losing the election, he was upset and went out of Beijing in a rage to participate in the plot to assassinate Yuan Shikai. I didn't expect things to be exposed, so I had to escape. From then on, I changed my name and surname and lived in the world.

In those turbulent times, people like Shen Fu who were looking for a way out were unknown.

19 1 1 year, Wuchang uprising, and then all localities responded. Phoenix was no exception, and the Miao people began to resist. However, just overnight, the insurgents were defeated.

On that day, Shen Congwen woke up in the morning and saw a lot of bloody heads on the flat ground at the entrance of Daoyin yamen, as well as antlers at the entrance of Yamen and heads on Yuanmen.

He found human ears strung together in the corner, and an elderly relative asked him, "Are you afraid, little thing?"

Shen Congwen answered very well: "Not afraid."

For 9-year-old mountain children, these are just the beginning.

The killing lasted for a month. The Yugoslav capital sent troops to the countryside separately to arrest people, killing about 100 people every day, sometimes without undressing or tying ropes, just like driving cattle. After the murder, the murderer seemed unable to bear it, so he thought of a way: entrust the local people to respect and trust the King of Heaven, lead the prisoner to the front of Tianwang Temple Hall and throw a bamboo raft in front of him. Life and death depend on a throw.

Other contemporary writers spent their childhood playing with water, fighting and stealing things, while Shen Congwen spent his childhood watching people kill people.

After the Revolution of 1911, China was dominated by warlords of all sizes, and Xiangxi was no exception. At this time, Shen Congwen has grown up a little and wants to go the way of grandpa. In the chaotic times, we can only entrust our courage to ordinary people, which is a way out for young people, and perhaps the only way out for young people.

So he witnessed more murders.

The military's business is mainly "clearing the countryside" and "suppressing bandits", which is no different from bandits except for a legal name.

When he goes to the market to play during the day, he often sees such a terrible scene: several soldiers in front, a 12-year-old child in the middle, pick two heads, and this head is often the father of the child.

Weird, scary, ordinary.

If Lu Xun saw such a scene, he would swear at the executioner and those numb spectators and ask a painful question: "It has never been like this, has it?"

Shen Congwen may be a spectator in Lu Xun's works. He doesn't question, he doesn't shout, he just records calmly.

He said this: "From there and other places, I saw some stupid things that ordinary people have never seen, heard some shouts that ordinary people have never heard, and smelled some smells that ordinary people have never smelled; In the narrow and cowardly life of city people, I am not interested in the concept of good and evil people. When I came to live in the city, I felt depressed and powerful, just like a' person'. "

After watching so many killings, Shen Congwen was disgusted.

I haven't changed in my life.

1922, a young man came to Beijing. He walked out of Qianmen Station in Beijing with a roll of luggage, got on a bus and was pulled into a small inn by the Xijiang River.

He registered in the passenger book: "Shen Congwen, twenty years old, a student, from Fenghuang County, Hunan Province."

Life is not friendly to this "drifting north".

Shen Congwen wants to be a scholar, so he has been auditing at Peking University. He is poor and hasn't attended a new school, so naturally he can't go to college. He applied to national universities such as Peking University, but failed. After I entered the Sino-French University, I paid for room and board in 28 yuan, but I tried my best to raise it, so I had to give it up when it expired.

Beijing at that time was like a whirlpool. Some people turn dragons into dragons when they encounter storms, but more people are involved in the bottom of the river. Reality can't tolerate him continuing to dream such stupid dreams. He can only pick up a pen, start writing and find another way out.

He wrote like a fool, contributing articles everywhere, but basically he got a rebuff.

Sun Fuyuan, a famous editor of Morning Post Supplement, once joked in public that this is the work of a great writer! Say, it is twisted into a ball and thrown into the wastebasket.

At the end of the road, Shen Congwen tried to write to Yu Dafu for help. Yu Dafu visited the unknown young man. He took off his scarf and left it to Shen Congwen who had no winter clothes; I invited him to lunch again, took out five dollars to settle the bill, and left him three dollars and twenty cents.

That night, Yu Dafu was filled with indignation, and when he felt aggrieved, he wrote a public statement to a literary youth. Shen Congwen's name is not written in the article, but you can see a young man who can't find a way out.

In the article, he gave Shen Congwen an idea, and the best policy was to find something to do-or make a revolution and make a bomb. The middle policy is to go home. The worst thing is to be a soldier or a thief. If you are a thief, "you might as well come to me and try to solve a problem." I have some old books, but I can sell them for a few dollars ... if you come, you should practice harder. Don't cry, because you didn't steal my book. "

Ridiculously, Yu Dafu pointed to the cruel reality that young people have no way out. But this naked reality is too cruel for Shen Congwen, who is full of ideals.

Before coming to Beijing, Shen Congwen said to his relative Huang Jingming, "I came to Beijing to find my ideal and want to read some books."

Huang Jingming sneered: "Well, reading, what is your ideal and how to study?" You don't know that there are 10 thousand college students at the gates of Beijing who have nothing to do after graduation. I can only pull a long face and don't know what to do. University professors get a 10% discount on their salary, and they only come to 36 yuan in one month, and they still work and study. Nerds, big and small, are either reading dead books or reading dead books. How to be a boss in China? "

Shen Congwen retorted, "But how can I go on?" . In six years, I killed tens of thousands of innocent civilians at my feet, and I learned nothing but leave a stupid and cruel impression on the killed people! There are many smart people who are officials. The smarter a person is, the more he indulges his stupid temperament, is arrogant and treats everything as a dog. I just ran out because I couldn't stay any longer. I want to read some books and read some good books to save the country. It is really unacceptable for this country to continue like this! "

We don't know how Shen Long Congwen survived, only that he survived. From a ragged young man in western Hunan, he became a well-known professional writer.

The learning dream that should have died is still shining in the dark.

Beijing is not without its merits. At least its streets are "museums of classical culture of two dynasties in the past 600 years". You don't have to buy tickets to visit these museums. On the west side of the guild hall where he lived when he came to Beijing, there was the famous Liulichang and Cultural Relics Street. He didn't dare to go in, but when he saw the broken porcelain of Tang and Song Dynasties and the painting axes of Ming and Qing Dynasties displayed in the window, he couldn't walk any further.

This is also a little joke of fate. It was many years later when he understood the joke.

Even as a professional writer, livelihood is still a big problem.

The meager remuneration and royalties are often in arrears, and Shen Congwen is heavily in debt with his sick mother and young sister in Beijing, and the pressure is increasing.

Finally, he chose to teach to earn living expenses.

Then, I met Zhang Zhaohe, the most important woman in his life and his student.

At about 1930, the teacher began to write letters to the students to express his feelings.

"I have crossed bridges in many places, seen clouds many times and drunk many kinds of wine, but I have only loved one person at the right age."

Zhang Zhaohe doesn't seem to panic. She has seen this scene many times. The way she treats Shen Congwen is silence. No matter how many letters Shen Congwen wrote, they were ignored.

After many failures, Shen Congwen was disheartened and decided to resign as a teacher. Before he left, he wanted a statement, so he called his classmate Wang Hualian from Zhang Zhaohe.

After Wang Hualian entered the door, Shen Congwen said, "I have something to ask you, but I can't say it. Please read this. "

He handed her two pieces of paper written the day before, and then asked her many questions about Zhang Zhaohe. Speaking of sadness, I cried; Besides, cry again.

"Because I love her, I'm afraid I'm here to make her sad. I don't want her to take on any obligations, so I decided to go. But I am willing to know her opinion, go. "

From the beginning to now, Zhang Zhaohe's attitude has been very firm, as stubborn as a stone. But Shen Congwen also stubbornly wrote to her to show respect for her stubbornness. Maybe between you and me, her calm heart has already rippled.

1933 during the winter vacation, Shen Congwen wrote a letter to Zhang Zhaohe as usual, in which he diplomatically expressed his intention to propose marriage. And said, if parents agree, please ask Zhang Zhaohe to send him a telegram as soon as possible, so that he can have a sweet bar as a "countryman".

The Zhang family sent a telegram to Shen Congwen, using only one word "allow", which means that this marriage is "allow".

Zhang Zhaohe some not trust, one thousand shen congwen don't understand? She quietly took a rickshaw to the telegraph office and handed in her own telegram. "The country people have a sweet time." At that time, the message was generally not written in vernacular, and the word "ba" was added without thinking.

In the face of surging love, Shen Congwen seems to have a new feeling.

He is more and more disgusted with those things that are above him-power, thought and history. ...

1934 65438+1On October 7th, he set out for Phoenix. This is the first time he has gone home since he left Xiangxi. Before I left, I promised my wife Zhang Zhaohe that I would write to her every day. He wrote nearly 50 letters, sorted them out after returning to Peiping, and transformed the "three-three patent books" into readers-oriented texts, which became the later "auspicious San Ji".

Ten years ago, Shen Congwen was lonely and got nothing. He took a boat and was not sure about his future. Now, seeing the diaojiao building in his hometown again and hearing the ditty by the river, he wants to ask himself before the wild nature: why are people alive?

Most people live a mediocre life, they want to eat and drink, and a few people can control their own destiny and even the life of the nation. This is the concept imprinted in his mind by the May 4th Movement.

At the moment, he admitted that he was wrong.

"We don't read history at ordinary times? What does a history book tell us except that some of the stupidest people in another era are killing each other? But real history is a river. The constant water, stones and sand, rotten vegetation and tattered wooden boards all day and night have touched the joys and sorrows of several human beings that we have neglected for several years! "

"Didn't I mention the poor life and inaction of these people at the moment? No, three three, I was wrong. These people don't need our pity, we should respect and love them. "

"I am very weak at this time, because I love the world and human beings. Three, three, if we are together at this moment, look how wet my eyes are! "

Not long after returning to China, Border Town came out. Years later, this novel was selected as one of the top 100 novels in China in the 20th century, ranking second only to Lu Xun's Scream.

After the Japanese army launched a full-scale war of aggression against China, Shen Congwen followed The National SouthWest Associated University to Kunming.

When Kunming was bombed for the first time, at first light, explosions sounded around, window glass broke, debris fell, dust flew, and people scattered. ...

Shen Congwen's face remained unchanged, looking at the smoke not far away, muttering to himself; "Fried which side? The school has just moved here and can't be damaged any more! " This is the strong Shen Congwen.

The fragile Mr. Shen would whisper after drinking a little wine: "The country has become like this, and everyone just wants to run for their lives, so they can't study or work ..." Suddenly he put down his glass and began to cry, like a bewildered child.

The memory of childhood, the history of Xiangjiang River and the huge thunder of Kunming are intertwined in his heart. In this environment, he wrote Long River, which should have been China's version of War and Peace.

"I think of the emotions caused by thousands of years of predecessors living in caves and sleeping in a corner of caves listening to thunder. At the same time, I also think of the emotions caused by modern people in another man-made huge thunder. I feel very touched. Alas, life. This loud voice makes people feel sad about history because it is recreating history. "

He remembered the history of people killing each other and the people drowned by history.

Since the Anti-Japanese War, literati wanted to devote themselves to serving the country, but only one pen could be of great use, so they wanted to devote themselves to politics and devote themselves to the nation with articles.

Shen Congwen caught a glimpse of the hidden worries behind him, fearing that politics would degenerate literature, and specially issued a document against writers entering politics.

The left-wing literary world reacted fiercely, and a group of people wrote articles to refute it. The deeper the misunderstanding, the heavier the hostility, and the simpler or even more labeled the original intention of Shen Congwen. From the outside world, saving the country has become so urgent, but Shen Congwen is like a talkative old woman, reading some outdated old sayings.

It was not until 1946 that the siege of Shen Congwen began: "A man who pretends to be lofty but is unwilling to be lonely. Being divorced from reality and cynically standing on a lofty standpoint, the representative of this kind of person is Shen Congwen. "

More people reprimanded his article for being abstract and without class. "Accomplice", "helping others", "slander" and "crime" suddenly became the trend of verbal criticism.

The most severe thing is Guo Moruo's denial of reactionary literature and art. He described Shen Congwen as a representative of "Peach Blossom" and "painted nude with words, even wrote erotic palace with words".

In this situation, the lonely Shen Congwen is almost equivalent to being banned.

The times are advancing, and he can't keep up.

/kloc-0 In the spring of 949, Shen Congwen committed suicide.

After being rescued, he fell into an unprecedented calm, and he remembered the girl Cui Cui he created in Border Town.

"The night is surprisingly quiet. Dragon Boat Festival is coming, and there will be a dragon boat down the river in my hometown. Cui Cui, Cui Cui, did you sleep soundly in room 104, or did you think of me in the cuckoo's cry and after my death? Cui Cui, Shanshan, am I crazy again? I feel scared because everything is quiet, which is not normal. Should I rest? "

But he has deep doubts about his writing ability.

"What should I write? What else can I write? The pen is frozen and my life is frozen. "

He wants his family to burn his works so as not to mislead others.

He often listens to Beethoven's music in bed and is full of sympathy for life.

After that, he wrote a letter to his good friend Ding Ling.

"In order to remedy and correct, or give up literature, we should use the miscellaneous knowledge of the history department and the enthusiasm and understanding of arts and crafts to combine them well and study the history of ancient arts and crafts."

It is Shen Congwen's choice and self-salvation to give up his literature for many years and regain his dream when he first came to Beijing. This joke of fate has been lurking in his life for a long time, just like a seed buried in the ground, and it will break out when the time comes.

His research on cultural relics is different. What he is most concerned about is the daily necessities such as fans, saddles, mirrors, clothes and cups that were not cultural relics at that time. He knows that behind these objects are the creations and stories of workers.

Later, he tried his best to write the famous "Research on Ancient Chinese Costume".

This is the new Shen Congwen.

1on may 8, 982, old Shen Congwen embarked on the road to his hometown.

Nanhuashan, Guanjingshan, Magpie Slope, Bajiaolou ... At the foot of Nanhuashan is Wenchang Pavilion Primary School, his alma mater, where the children's morning songs come from.

Walking in the old streets, I came to a house after three turns and two turns. It was shabby and lived in five families. Holding nave's broken wall, Shen Congwen said, "This is my home. I was born here ... the house has been sold to others. "

He wants to listen to Nuo opera and the voice of his childhood.

Accompanied by gongs and drums, the artists sang: "Lantern Festival fireworks in the first month, hibiscus flowers and plants in February ..." When they sang "Osmanthus fragrans on August 15th", Shen Congwen jumped up with them.

Finally, he stood up to see him off. His eyes behind his yellow-rimmed glasses are red and full of tears.

Times have been advancing, but fortunately, we can still see the joys and sorrows of human beings hidden behind history.

No matter what will happen in the future, people's faces, fears and hopes should be recorded.

From a country boy who is keen on watching murders to an old gentleman who is injured everywhere and often cries, his heart is full of compassion and pity.

In 1950s, Shen Congwen wrote a sad sentence: "I grow old with my readers."

But when the absurd era went away, his works ushered in a new life.

After the 1980s, some modern writers reappeared in the history of literature from the previously sheltered state: Zhang Ailing, Qian Zhongshu and Shen Congwen. They all insist on a kind of "daily narrative" against "grand narrative" and a trickle against the long river.

This is a belated proof that he has always been a first-class novelist in China.

His student Wang Zengqi once said that Shen Congwen's works run through a theme-the discovery and reconstruction of national morality.

A few years after Shen Congwen's death, Swedish scholar Ma Yueran revealed a secret. 1988, Shen Congwen entered the final list of Nobel Prize in Literature in that year. "I personally believe that if he doesn't die at 1988, he will win this prize at 10."

There is never a perfect ending, which is "very Shen Congwen".

1988 may 18, eight days after Shen Congwen's death, Babaoshan held a farewell ceremony attended by only a few people.

There are no wreaths, armbands, black veil, eulogy and funeral music, but Beethoven's favorite classical music "Pathetique Sonata" is played live.

This may be what Shen Congwen hoped: he didn't need the stimulation of news, the memory of the times, and no one gave him "status", so he died quietly.

Four years later, on 1992, Shen Congwen "returned" to his hometown of Phoenix. Half of his ashes were scattered into the Tuojiang River, which passed around the city, and the other half were directly buried in the soil of the cemetery. The tombstone is a big stone with Shen Congwen's handwriting on it, and four sentences are engraved on the branches:

Think like me.

Can understand me

Think like me.

Acquaintable person

In the quiet Xiangxi river, many things are no longer important. The important thing is that until now, we are still reading Shen Congwen, still thinking of him, and still crying for Cui Cui and Sansan.

Not for lofty thoughts, not for grand history, but because he looked at all the little people with compassionate eyes.

There are countless Xiangxi in this world, but there is only one Shen Congwen.