Re-read the classics: It's been 100 years since The Scream was published

"Scream" is a collection of short stories by modern literary scholar Lu Xun, which contains 14 short stories written by Lu Xun from 1918 to 1922, which was first published by the Beijing Xinchao Society in 1923 and is now compiled into the first volume of the Complete Works of Lu Xun.

"The Scream" is self-prologue

I also had many dreams when I was young, and most of them were forgotten later, but I didn't think it was a pity. The so-called reminiscent, although it can make people happy, sometimes it is inevitable to make people lonely, so that the wisps of the spirit still hold the lonely time that has passed, what does it mean, and I am partial to not being able to forget it all, and this part of not being able to forget it has now become the source of "Scream".

I have more than four years, and I used to ,—— almost every day, in and out of the shop and the pharmacy, but the age is forgotten, in short, the counter of the pharmacy is as high as mine, the quality shop is twice as high as me, I send clothes or jewelry from outside the counter that is twice as high, I take the money in the insult, and then go to the same high counter to buy medicine for my long-ill father. After returning home, I have to be busy with other things, because the prescribing doctor is the most famous, and the medicine used in this way is also peculiar: the reed root in winter, the sugar cane that has been frosted for three years, the crickets that are the same, the flat wood with the knot... Much is not an easy thing to do. However, my father finally died day by day.

I thought that on this road, I could probably see the true face of the world; I wanted to go to the K Academy, as if I wanted to take a different path, to escape from another place, to seek a different kind of people. My mother had no law, and she did eight yuan of Sichuan capital, saying that it was my own convenience; but Yi cried, which was exactly what was reasonable, because at that time, reading and taking the exam was the right way, the so-called study of foreign affairs, the society thought that she was a desperate person, had to sell her soul to the devil, to be doubly ridiculed and rejected, and Yi could not see his son. However, I couldn't care less about these things, and finally went to N and entered the K school, where I learned that there are still so-called qualities, arithmetic, geography, history, drawing and gymnastics in the world. Physiology is not taught, but we see woodblock versions of the New Treatise on the Whole and the Treatise on Chemical Hygiene. I still remember the previous doctors' discussions and prescriptions, compared with what I know now, and gradually realized that Chinese medicine was nothing more than a deliberate or unintentional liar, and at the same time sympathized with the deceived patients and their families; and from the translated history, I also knew the fact that the Japanese Restoration originated mostly in Western medicine.

Because of this naïve knowledge, my academic register was later listed in a medical college in the countryside of Japan. I had a very happy dream, preparing to return from my death, to treat the suffering of the wronged patients like my father, and to become a military doctor during the war, while promoting the faith of the Chinese people in the restoration. I don't know how the method of teaching microbiology has come, but at that time, movies were used to show the shape of microorganisms, so sometimes the passage of the lecture notes is finished, and the time has not yet come, and the teacher will show the students some pictures of landscapes or current events to use this extra time. At that time, at the time of the Russo-Japanese War, there were naturally more pictures of the war, and I had to often clap and applaud my classmates in this lecture hall. Once, on the picture, I suddenly met many of my long-lost Chinese, one tied in the middle, many standing left and right, the same strong physique, and showing a numb look. According to the commentary, he was tied up as a military detective for Russia, and was about to be decapitated by the Japanese army to show the public, and the people gathered around to appreciate this grand demonstration.

I have arrived in Tokyo before the end of the school year, because since that time I have felt that medicine is not an urgent matter, and that all the stupid citizens, no matter how sound and strong they are, can only be meaningless demonstration materials and spectators, and there is no need to think that illness and death are more or less unfortunate. So our first thing is to change their spirit, and what is good at changing their spirit is that I thought that of course we should promote literature and art, so I wanted to advocate the literary and artistic movement. The international students in Tokyo were very good at studying law, politics, physics, and chemistry, as well as the police industry, but no one ruled literature and art; but in the cold air, they were fortunate to find a few comrades, and in addition, they invited a few necessary people, and after consultation, the first step was of course to publish a magazine, which meant "new life", because we probably had some retro tendencies at that time, so it was only called "New Life".

The publication of "New Life" approached, but at first a number of people in charge of writing were hidden, and then they fled the capital, leaving only three people who were not named and a penny. At the time of the founding, of course, there is no truth to be told when it fails, and then even these three people are driven by their own fate, and cannot talk about the good dreams of the future in one place, which is the end of our unproductive "New Life".

I felt bored with my inexperience, and it was from then on. I did not know why this was so; then I thought, how sad it is that anyone whose proposition has been praised and applauded, who has been urged to move forward, who has been opposed, who has urged him to struggle, who has only shouted among the living, and who has no reaction, neither approval nor opposition, such as being in a boundless wasteland, and being unprepared, is so sad that I am lonely to the one I feel.

Day by day, this loneliness grew up like a great poisonous snake, entangling my soul.

However, although I have unprovoked sorrow, I am not resentful, because this experience makes me reflect and see myself: I am by no means a hero who gathers with one arm and one echo.

It's just that my own loneliness cannot be dispelled, because it is too painful for me. So I used all kinds of methods to anesthetize my soul, to sink me into the people, to return to ancient times, and later to experience or observe some of the more lonely and sad things that I did not want to pursue, and I was willing to let them disappear into the dirt with my brain, but my anesthesia method seems to have worked, and there is no longer the passionate meaning of youth.

There are three houses in the S Guild Hall, which are said to have been hanged by a woman in the locust tree in the courtyard in the past, and now the locust tree is no longer climbable, and this house has not been inhabited; for many years, I lived in this house to copy ancient monuments. Few people came, and there were no problems and doctrines in the ancient monuments, but my life was secretly gone, which was my only wish. On summer nights, when there were more mosquitoes, they sat under the locust tree with a fan, looking at the little blue sky from the cracks in the dense leaves, and the locust silkworms that came out late fell on the head and neck every time.

At that time, it was an old friend Jin Xinyi who occasionally came to talk about it, put the large wallet in his hand on the broken table, took off his long shirt, and sat down opposite, because he was afraid of dogs, and it seemed that the atrium was still beating.

"What's the use of you having all this?" One night, he flipped through the banknotes of my ancient tablet and questioned me about my research.

"Nothing worked."

"So, what do you mean by banknotes?"

"It doesn't mean anything."

"I think you could do something..."

I understood what he meant, they were doing "New Youth", but at that time it seemed that no one had come to approve of it, and no one had yet come to oppose it, and I think they may have felt lonely, but said:

"Suppose an iron house, which has no windows and is difficult to destroy, has many sleeping people in it, and soon they will suffocate, but they will go from sleep to death, and they will not feel the sorrow of death. Now that you are shouting and startling up a few of the more sober ones, and causing this unfortunate minority to suffer from irreparable dying, do you think you are worthy of them? ”

"But since a few people have risen, you cannot say that there is absolutely no hope of destroying this iron house."

Yes, although I have my own convictions, but when it comes to hope, it cannot be erased, because hope lies in the future, and I must not convince him of his so-called existence with the proof of my inevitable existence, so I finally agreed to make an article as well, which was the first "Diary of a Madman". Since then, it has been issued without receiving anything, and every time I write some novel-like articles, with the instructions of perfunctory friends, I have accumulated more than ten articles for a long time.

In myself, I thought that I was no longer an urgent person who could not be said, but I had not yet forgotten the sadness of my loneliness that day, so sometimes I could not help but shout a few times, to comfort the warrior who was galloping in loneliness, so that he was not afraid of the front. As for whether my shouts are brave or sad, hateful or ridiculous, it is not a matter of consideration; but since it is a cry, of course, I must obey the orders of the general, so I often do not use the pen, and add a garland of flowers to the grave of Yu'er in "Medicine", and in "Tomorrow" I do not tell that the fourth sister-in-law did not achieve the dream of seeing her son, because the Lord at that time would not advocate negativity. As for myself, I am not willing to pass on the loneliness that I think is bitter to the young people who are dreaming well, just like when I was young.

In this way, the distance between my novel and art can be imagined, but to this day I can still bear the name of the novel, and even if there is a chance to complete a collection, in any case, it cannot be said that it is a fluke, but although the fluke makes me uneasy, and the suspense of the world for the time being, there are still readers, and it is still happy.

So I put together my short stories, put them in print, and for the reasons mentioned above, called them "The Scream."

On December 3, 1922, Lu Xun was recorded in Beijing.