The Chinese Cultural Center asked me to write a copy of "My Mother" and send me a picture of my mother. I have a four-inch portrait of me, always hanging across from my desk. There are already enlarged hanging on the hall, this small one may wish to give away. But where did "My Mother" come from? Looking at the portrait of the mother, I remembered the sitting position of the mother. My mother did not take a picture of the seated image before she died, but this gesture was clearly ingested on the negative in my mind, but it was not posted. Now replace the developer and fixer with pen and ink and post the seated image of my mother:
My mother sat in the Eight Immortals chair in the northwest corner of my old house, her eyes glowing with seriousness and a loving smile on the corners of her mouth.
The eight immortals chair in the northwest corner of the old house is the mother's old seat. From my childhood until a few months before her death, my mother always sat in this chair when she was empty, which was a very uncomfortable seat: my old house was a three-bay hall, on the right was my cousin's house, on the left was my cousin's house, and in the center was my house. But there is no wall separating the board, only the two rows of eight immortal chairs on the left and right as the boundaries of the three people's homes. So the chair where the mother sat, the back of the volley. If it is a sofa chair, there are soft thick walls on three sides, and the volley is unhindered. But my eight immortals chair is made of wood, sitting board and backrest at a ninety-degree angle, the backrest is only a few loose wooden strips, and its height is only up to the shoulders of people. The mother sat with nowhere to rest her head, very unstable. The mother also prevented the feet of the chair from rotting on the dirt, and lined the foot of the chair with a wooden seat of two or three inches high, so this eight-immortal chair was particularly high, and the mother had to hang up on both feet, which was very inconvenient. The so-called northwest corner is the innermost chair on the left. Inside this chair is the door through the retreat. In the retreat hall is the stove room. The mother sat in a chair and looked inside, and could see the stove head. When the wind blows out of it, soot and oil and gas blow on the mother, which is very unhygienic. In front of the hall, a patio three or four feet wide is the wall door. Outside the wall is our dye shop. The mother sat in a chair and looked outside, and she could see the customers who were rushing by, and she heard the sound of the city well, which was very quiet. But my mother had always sat in such an unstable, inconvenient, unhygienic, and unsettling eight-immortal chair in the northwest corner of my old house, her eyes glowing with seriousness and a loving smile on the corners of her mouth. Why does my mother always sit in such an uncomfortable chair? Because this son is the most important in my family. The mother can sit in this room and take care of the stove and the shop. In order to balance the inside and outside, the mother could not take care of the stability of the seat, the inconvenience of convenience, the unhygienic hygiene and the silence.
When I was four years old, my father was lifted, and in the same year my grandmother died, and my father Ding Yan was at home, depressed and unhappy, entertaining himself with poetry and wine, regardless of family affairs, Ding Yan finally died and was abolished, and my father has since disappeared. During this period, the family affairs and shop affairs were taken care of by the mother inside and outside. I came out of the library and, as usual, walked over to my mother, who was sitting in a chair in the northwest corner, and asked her for something to eat. The mother put on a dear smile at the corner of her mouth, reached out and removed the "hungry cat basket" hanging above the chair, and picked up the cake bait for me to eat; at the same time, a serious glow in her eyes gave me a few words of encouragement.
When I was nine years old, my father died leaving behind my mother and six of our siblings, a few acres of thin fields, and a dye shop. All responsibilities inside and outside my home are borne by my mother. After that, she sat in that chair more and more time. Workers often came to sit on stools inside and talk to their mothers about household affairs; shopkeepers often came to sit in chairs outside and talk to their mothers about the shop; father's friends and relatives and neighbors often came to sit in the chairs opposite and negotiate or socialize with their mothers. I came home from the school holidays, and as usual, I went to the chair in the northwest corner and asked my mother for a copper plate. Sometimes the four groups of people came at the same time, so that the mother was overwhelmed, so she used the serious brilliance of her eyes to command, warn, or negotiate, and at the same time used the loving smile on the corner of her mouth to exhort, caress, or socialize. At that time, I was accustomed to this kind of situation, thinking that my mother was born in this chair, and that there were four classes of people in Tiansheng who were entangled with her.
I left my mother at the age of seventeen to study far away. Before leaving, my mother had a serious glow in her eyes, and admonished me to treat people and things as a way to study and establish myself; a loving smile appeared on the corners of my mouth, and I took care of all the details of my living and eating. She prepares tuition for me, she packs me luggage, she makes me a can of fried rice noodles in lard and puts it in my net basket; she makes me a small wire board with two leads in my box and sends me out. When I returned from the holiday, as soon as I entered the store, I saw my mother sitting on the Eight Immortals chair in the northwest corner. She welcomed me home, a loving smile on her lips, and she inquired about my studies, and her eyes glowed with seriousness. In the evening she went to the stove herself, cooked some vegetables and vegetables that I loved to eat, and under the lamp she inquired about my school life, encouraging, teaching or rebuking.
After I graduated at the age of twenty-two, I went to serve in a distant place, but I did not live under my mother's knee, but returned to the province during the holidays. Every time I returned home, I still saw my mother sitting in a chair in the northwest corner, with a serious glow in her eyes and a loving smile on the corner of her mouth. She entertained me like a wise lord and taught me like a good teacher.
When I was thirty years old, I gave up my job and returned home to read and write about my mother. Mother still sat in the eight immortals chair in the northwest corner every day, with a serious glow in her eyes and a loving smile on the corner of her mouth. It's just that her hair has gradually turned from gray to silver.
When I was thirty-three years old, my mother died. On the eight immortal chairs in the northwest corner of my old house, my mother no longer sits. But whenever I saw this chair, I must have a seated image of my mother in my head—a serious glow in my eyes and a loving smile on the corners of my mouth. She is my mother and at the same time my father. She instructed me to raise me as a strict father and mother, from the time I fell to the ground until I was thirty-three, no, until now. Tao Yuanming Shiyun: "I used to hear the words of the elders, and I hid my ears and didn't like it." "I have also made this mistake; I have accepted all of my mother's love, but I will not accept her teachings in its entirety. So now every time I look at the seated image of my mother in my imagination, I feel very grateful for the loving smile on the corner of her mouth; I feel very frightened of the serious brilliance in her eyes. This brilliance gives me deep vigilance and strong encouragement every time.
February 28, 1937, the 26th year of the Republic of China
Excerpt from "Feng Zikai's Self-Description"
Written/painted by Feng Zikai
Zhong Guisong, eds
Shanghai Sanlian Bookstore Phoenix Yili
Who says the scar on my left forehead is a defect? This is a testament to the joys of my childhood, a relic of my golden age.
——Feng Zikai
Zi Kai is less than me, for life, there is such an ability to chew and play, compared with me, can not but envy Zi Kai is a happy person!
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I have an image of "Mr. Feng" in my mind: a person who has no quarrel with the world and loves everything, and a pure and unblemished child's heart.
- Barkin
This book is a collection of Mr. Feng Zikai's reminiscent essays, which recalls his life in various periods of his life such as childhood, adolescence, middle age and old age in a self-narrative nature, and the writing is profound but handsome, witty and witty, and humorous, which is a rare prose masterpiece.
The book also includes a number of cartoons and old photographs of Mr. Feng Zikai, and is accompanied by a chronology of his life, which is worth collecting.
【About the Author】
Feng Zikai (1898-1975) was a modern painter, writer, art and music educator and translator. A native of Tongxiang, Zhejiang. In his early years, he studied painting and music from Li Shutong. He went to Japan in 1921. After returning to China, he successively engaged in music and art teaching in Shanghai, Zhejiang, Chongqing and other places. After the May Fourth Movement, he created cartoons, with simple shapes and simple painting styles. Good at prose and poetry, timeless and loose, not one. He once served as the president of the Shanghai Academy of Chinese Painting and the chairman of the Shanghai Branch of the China Artists Association.
【Introduction】
This book is a collection of Mr. Feng Zikai's reminiscent essays, divided into seven parts, such as Shimenwan memory, Hangzhou study time, study tour to the Orient, rushing during the War of Resistance, living in Hangzhou, Shanghai years, feng Zikai chronology, etc., recalling the bits and pieces of his childhood, adolescence, middle age and old age in a self-described nature. In addition, the book also contains old photos of Feng Zikai and his family and many of Feng Zikai's comic masterpieces, which are rich in pictures and texts.
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