To this day, my stomach is still the memory of the potato paste soup,
My accent is still the tone of the southern slope of Qinling.
Shang Luo also loves me,
It made me write about it for decades.
It tolerates me writing it from all angles.
The material is so rich,
The mind is so broad.
▲Jia Pingwo
Jia Pingwo, born in 1952 in Dihua Town, Danfeng County, Shangluo City, Shaanxi Province, began publishing works in 1974 and graduated from the Department of Chinese of Northwest University in 1975. He is a deputy to the National People's Congress, former vice chairman of the China Writers Association, chairman of the Shaanxi Writers Association, chairman of the Xi'an Municipal Federation of Literature and Literature, and editor-in-chief of Yanhe and Meiwen magazines. His published works include 24 volumes of Jia Ping's Anthology, and his representative works include 18 novels such as "Waste Capital", "Qin Cavity", "Ancient Furnace", "Happy", "With Lights", "Lao Sheng", "Polar Flower", "Yamamoto" and so on. The short and medium stories "Black Family", "Beauty Cave", "Five Kui" and the essays "Ugly Stone", "Shangzhou Three Records", "Weather" and so on. His works have won five national literary awards, namely "Mao Dun Literature Award", "Lu Xun Literature Award", "National Excellent Short Story Award", "National Excellent Novella Award" and "National Excellent Prose (Collection) Award"; and won the "Mobil Pegasus Literature Award" in the United States, the "Fermina Literature Award" in France, the "Dream of the Red Chamber world Chinese Novel Award" in Hong Kong, China, the "World Chinese Literature Award" of Peking University, and the "Chevalier de l'Ordre des Etudes Etudes et des Arts et des Arts" in France. His works have been translated and published into more than 30 languages, including English, French, Swedish, Italian, Spanish, German, Russian, Japanese, and Korean, and have been adapted into more than 20 languages, including film, television, drama, and drama.
Chief planner | He Lansheng
Producer | Li Wei
Zhang Fengyun
Edited | Gong Shuyun
Yan Xu
Editor of the United States| Liu Nian
Produced | Farmers Daily
Everyone says hometown is good. I say the same thing, and no matter when or where, when it comes to Shangluo, my eyes are shining. This is not only out of the instinct of life, but also the whole of my literary standing.
Look for Shangzhou
In 1980, there was a problem with my creation, I was not willing to follow the things that were popular at the time, and I didn't know what to write and how to write. I went to the huo's tomb on the outskirts of the ancient city, saw a batch of stone sculptures from the Han Dynasty, wrote "Crouching Tiger Theory", a short article, sorted out my thoughts, and then returned to my hometown.
At that time, I still had a certain resistance to the city, my heart was not smooth, and I liked to go back to my hometown. After spending some days in my hometown, the life in the countryside evoked my childhood memory, and I woke up to the fact that my creation has always been rootless, always going with the flow, like a streamer, others write scarred works, I also write, and I write this kind of work, the experience is not profound, others write Zhiqing, and I am a young man who returned to my hometown, I have to have my base, so I came up with the idea of writing about the people in my hometown. After that, I began to consciously return to my hometown to collect wind, and the two largest of them, accompanied by friends who were still working in Shangluo at that time, walked through the main villages and towns of 7 counties in Shangluo. Those two big actions made me particularly excited, walking around the village during the day, sorting out notes at night, what to eat during dinner, and living wherever I could when it was dark. From the village to the county seat, I tried to borrow local history to see. Before, I only knew that the Shangluo area was Qintou Chuwei, the intersection of central plains culture and Chu culture, and after collecting wind, I knew that the history and culture, the changes of the times, and the customs and customs here were so rich and distinctive, it was enough for me to write for a lifetime.
Looking back now, those few times I returned to Shangluo consolidated the foundation of my creation. But those few times back to Shangluo caused damage to my body, it didn't matter if I had lice on my body, every time I returned to Xi'an, as soon as I entered the door, my wife let me take off all my clothes and burn them with boiling water, and what made me miserable was the infection. Scabies was stained in a township, where there was only one big water, the day was raining non-stop, the futon of the small hostel where I stayed was very wet, and I slept until midnight and got dressed and slept again, and as a result, I got scabies.
I finally ended my creative treacherousism and began to have a "base area". I wrote a lot of stories about Shangluo, and at that time, in order to enter the seat incorrectly, I avoided the word Shangluo and adopted the name of the ancient place: Shangzhou. So the "Shangzhou Preliminary Record" and the Shangzhou series of works were published one after another. With the impact of the Shangzhou series of works, I realized step by step, and I have long adhered to two positions, one is Shangzhou and the other is Xi'an, from the perspective of Xi'an to Shangzhou, from the perspective of Shangzhou, from the perspective of Shangzhou, from the perspective of Shangzhou, to see China from these two perspectives, and has been writing until now.
In my country
The essay "Ugly Stone" is written to some extent by myself. When I was young, I felt ugly and my body was weak, so that when I went to the countryside after I became famous, many people saw me for the first time and immediately became suspicious, thinking that I was an imposter liar. Some people wanted to spit on it and twisted their arms and handed it over to the public security organs. When he was introduced, of course, he was embarrassed, I was more restrained, and when I talked about it, it was still because I was red in the face and tongue, and he took back his respect for me.
▲Jia Pingwa took a group photo with his parents and brother
When my mother gave birth to me, there was an older brother on the top, but she died shortly after birth. Mr. Yin Yang said that the pit in my house was not suitable for children to live, and that if I gave birth to ten or eight, I would die, so my mother conceived me in the tenth month, and I was born to a family who lived in a far place. So I was born, "male to female", wearing flower clothes, with yellow braids, like a Garlic Sprout in March. The customs of the hometown, the child is difficult to protect, to recognize a dry father, the next morning, the family hugged out the door, meet Zhang San zhang three, meet Li Si on Li Si, meet chickens meet dogs chickens and dogs are also counted as dry fathers. I didn't think that my father was actually an old private school gentleman, and there was a "Kangxi Dictionary" at home, and those who knew it could write Mingjing.
Our family is very poor, but the people are prosperous, the father is four, we have ten, plus seven sisters, and we are messing around in a large ring pot with 7 copper nails, and when the family was divided in 1960, the population was 22. In such a poor era, in the extended family, quarrels and quarrels are indispensable, and they are all for food. Jia Mu enjoyed supreme power, and the four aunts (including my mother) formed four matriarchs, and all those who ate and drank well, each occupied it, grabbed the spoon and grabbed the shovel, ate it in the bowl and stared at the pot, added two buckets of water to boil the porridge and cooked the bowl of soybeans, and the soybeans were fished out of a single one in the first time they were served. This was a family as ill and impoverished as the commune at that time, and its collapse was a natural thing.
My father was a teacher, from elementary school to high school, and his whole life was spent in the back-and-forth movement from this school to that school. The world is insightful, somewhat pedantic, extremely himself, for the children, but for the guests but poured out hospitality, the good food and drink at home is almost all for outsiders to enjoy, so that in my later work, whenever the catalog of works is published in the newspaper, or so-and-so to Beijing to attend a certain meeting, his surroundings will congratulate him, begging for guests, he must be as little as a pound of sugar and a cigarette, as big as a banquet. Hometown wine is extremely popular, a banquet can drink more than a dozen pounds of dozens of pounds of water and wine, the result of laughter and crying, upside down three or five, three or five drunk, Fang said a word: today is enough to drink!
This kind of wine style that everyone pours down during the New Year's Festival, I have been disgusted since I was a child. I don't like the crowd, I always feel lonely, every time I sit on the high stone steps of my hall house, looking at the white clouds on the top of the pimple village in the distance, I can't stop beating my heart, I don't know what the cloud is, where it comes from. A large eagle hovers in the air, is this flying creature like me without a winged companion? I often went to the lotus pond at the mouth of the village to see the blue dragonfly with a bright red tail standing silently on the lotus leaf, I was full of love for this beautiful creature, liked its cute and silent appearance, and pinched it with my hand, and the blue wings flashed and struggled pitifully, and I immediately let it go, and at the same time there was an indescribable dazedness in my heart.
After I went to school, this attitude became more serious, my academic performance was very good, but teachers and parents kept worrying about my "inactive life". I was very thin, I had a big porridge belly, a thin black neck that seemed to be unable to bear that big head, and the "little turnip head" in my reading always felt that it was myself. Later, I fell in love with running away, carrying a basket to the mountains to collect firewood, cut grass, and collect chaff for pigs, and every strange fork made me afraid and made me extremely satisfied. The fork of the mountain in Shangzhou is a new place, rich and beautiful that I can't describe, how suddenly a mountain flower grows on the cliff, bright and dazzling, I sat down for a long time to see it. Occasionally in the empty valley walked by a girl who was about the same age as me, and her eyes were very bright, and I always felt that there was a halo around me, and gently called people in my heart "Sister!" "Hopefully she will come and take my hand, stroke my hair, and stay here for a long time, and that night, nine times out of ten, I will meet her again in my dreams."
When I finished elementary school, I said goodbye to the ancient temple classroom with many landscapes, gods, ghosts, and figures painted on the top of the wall. After I was admitted to junior high school with excellent grades, I began a more lonely, sleepy and boring life. The deepest impression is that I can't eat enough, and I take a porcelain bowl larger than my head to line up for food after class. During this period, my grandmother and grandmother had died, no one was favored by my faults and deaths, and many people in the village who knew me very well died, and the cadres and children in the class were all arrogant, and they looked at me with a disdainful eye in matters such as clothing, food, and large and small styles. The peasant children were willing to walk with me, but the crazy climbing high and low devil king made me disagree, and they never gave me a pass because of my weakness, and the tug-of-war never let me join, and the winter recess was "ringing" under the wall roots of the sun obliquely illuminated to keep warm, and I was indispensable to be called "Bell Huer" every time. At that time, in the corner of the playground sat a shy and timid child who came and looked at a nest of ants running, and that was me. I like to catch a bunch of fallen leaves in a sand nest on the river embankment and light a bonfire, the wisps of smoke rise up cutely, the fire is alive and lovely.
My eyes filled with tears.
I look forward to the end of the Cultural Revolution soon, to the return of my father, who is a teacher, and to the day when I can have a school to study, I will definitely achieve excellent results in the examination room. Coming out of the exam room made all the children and the parents of the children waiting outside the exam room have a little jealousy of me. However, my mother was ill this year, and she suffered from a pain in the slit of the flank, and the pain on the top of her head was like a plough on the kang. An ominous shadow pressed against my heart from time to time, and our younger sister went to the doctor in tears and burned castor oil spicy water in an iron spoon for my mother to drink. When my mother's body was already weak enough that the wind could blow down, my brother and I went to the paddy field to catch water snails, fished out half a cage, boiled them in hot water, and used an awl to cut out the thick white meat of the bean. We closed the courtyard door one night and rounded up a wild cat that had run into the courtyard. When my brother stewed the cat meat in a pot and served it, I couldn't even smell it. In the autumn, even more unfortunately, my father, a loyal and harsh teacher, was framed as a historical counter-revolutionary and dismissed from public office and sent home for labor reform.
This blow has left our family politically and economically out of the dark abyss, and I have almost wandered the world to beg for food. On the day my father was repatriated, I was hoeing grass on the hill when I saw two men with guns on the road down the hill carrying a man to the commune compound, and I immediately recognized the man as my father. The women who were hoeing the grass together in the production team hugged me and said nervously, "It's you old man, you go back and see!" "I'll always remember the faces that scared to death. I ran home, my father had already returned, and he slept on the kang with his body covered in bruises, and when he saw me, he grabbed me and cried, "I have harmed my son!" I've hurt my son!" "My father never cried, he cried with great fear, my head was buzzing, I couldn't see anything, I couldn't hear anything.
The downfall of the family made me weaker and weaker. I don't have friends, others don't come to my house, and I don't dare to go to other people's homes. It was more than two years, until my father was rehabilitated, I felt that I had grown up, understood the cold of the world, and understood the sophistication of human feelings. My only wish is to earn more work for my family and something to eat. When I went home outside, my hands were not empty, there was a handful of firewood that was picked up and clipped under my arm, and there was a wild vegetable pulled out and put in my pocket. I once picked up an egg in a grass nest and was happy to take it home for half a day. What can soothe my heart at that time is the idle book of the board. This is what I collected, and it is neatly placed on the roof with slats. When the labor comes back, he climbs up and reads, and when he is labored, he pulls off the ladder to go upstairs. When my father saw me like this, he had to turn around and quietly wipe away his tears.
What I can't forget is that winter that year, I suddenly fell in love with a girl in the village, she looked extremely dark, but her eyebrows were very moving. I can't say why I love her, but I feel happy when I see her, and I feel like I kill her if I don't see her. There was a mulberry tree in front of her house, and she often pretended to look at the mulberry and peeked at her at home. But this love, almost unrequited love, I don't know if she loves me, I just feel that I can really be loved by her, that is my happiness, I can love others, then I am equally happy. I look forward to the day when I will bear the burden of sending her parents to the end, let me bear the food and drink of their whole family of seven or eight people, in short, I can contribute to her, even if it is a cat and dog who catches mice for her family! But I did not dare to tell her this thought, because she was still a relative in my door, and she should honestly call me "uncle", and besides, the shadow of the family oppressed me, how could I say a word? I secretly nurtured this love in my heart, and it wasn't until she got married that I stopped wandering around her door every night.
On the last day of April when I was 19 years old, I left Shangshan, walked out of Qinling, and went to Northwest University in the south of Xi'an to study. It was the most earth-shattering mutation of my life, from a peasant to a city man, and I was fascinated by life in the city, and I knew what I was going to do in this life, and I had to go to the city first. But what will life be like in the city that awaits me? Is there a place for me in a world with so many people? Will it make me feel lonely and lonely again?
It's all a mystery! But I still left, watching my elderly and sick parents take me to the station, tears rattling this and that, I turned my head to run for a while, and the tears fell two or three times.
My hometown is Shangluo
Although Shangluo is a mountainous area, standing here, Beijing is very remote, Shanghai is very remote. Although relatively poor, the mountains and water, as well as the sunshine and air, are pure and abundant.
I always felt that clouds were formed by the breath of the earth, and that man was the breath that came out of the cracks in the earth. ShangLuo is at the head of Qin and the tail of Chu, and the birds above Qinling are the fish in the Danjiang River who wear feathers, and the fish in the Danjiang River are the feathered birds over the Qinling Mountains, and they are the most comfortable between heaven and earth. I am a breath that emerges from this land, changing form and color.
Therefore, my outlook on life does not think that people come into the world to suffer. If they come to suffer, why is there so many people in the world, and everyone lives and does not want to die? Man's life is the consummation of love, which originates from the love of his parents and is then transmitted and transformed in the world by the light of the sun, the nourishment of water, and the provision of food. This is the reason why everyone has a talent for music, painting, and literature in their nature. As the philosopher said, when you see a flower and love it, the flower actually likes you more. Why there is still fighting, hurting, jealousy, and fear in the world is greed caused by too many people coming and too little space. Based on this, we often say that death is the death of the deceased who took away a copy of the virus and pain, and the person who is still alive should be grateful to him.
I love Shangluo, and I think there is nothing untouchable about the landscape, plants, trees, birds and animals here. In the decades of years, Shangluo people went to Xi'an to see me, I never smoked good tea, good face and kind treatment, did not dare to be sloppy, Shangluo people let me do things, I always full of promises, running on all four hooves to do my best. To this day, my stomach is still the memory of potato paste soup, and my accent is still the tone of the southern slope of Qinling. Shang Luo also loves me, it makes me write it for decades, it tolerates me to write it from all angles, the material is so rich, the mind is so broad. Whenever I have a little achievement, Shang Luo is the first to applaud, and once I am frustrated, it is Shang Luo who can always give comfort.
I am a grass and tree, a stone, a bird, a rabbit, a radish, a sweet potato in Shangluo, which is a variety of Shangluo and is made by Shangluo.
I went to Xi'an after living in Shangluo for nineteen years, and in the 1980s I traveled to various counties on a large scale three times, almost all sizes of villages and towns, and in the decades since, I have continued to travel back and forth more than a dozen times a year. Since going to Xi'an, with the perspective of Xi'an, I have better understood and understood Shangluo, and always stood on the point of Shangluo, to observe and recognize China. This is the secret of my life, the secret of my literature.
So far I have written thousands of words, and each work has the shadow and trace of Shang Luo. The early "Notes on the Mountains", the later "Three Records of Shangzhou", "Impetuous", and then the later "Waste Capital", "Pregnancy", "Gao Laozhuang", "Remembering the Wolf", as well as "Qin Cavity", "Happy", "Ancient Furnace", "With Lights" and "Lao Sheng", that is the Shangluo of literature. Among them, large and small stories, some of the prototypes are Shangluo records, and some prototypes are not Shangluo's, but people who are familiar with Shangluo can read from the works that Shangluo's landscape customs and customs of a certain place, and the divine dialect of the characters.
I can't get rid of Shangluo, just as I can't breathe, just as a sheep can't be without a smell.
Fenglou often recently, crane dreams do not leave the clouds.
I appreciated Jung's words: The essence of literature is the expression of the collective unconscious. I also appreciate the four words of life and death. If I find it in my life and can accurately grasp the collective unconscious, this is the hardest, hardest thing I can do in my writing.
In the face of the original embodiment, when I want to write it out, I can't write it too familiar and slippery, how to survive, this is my most vigilant and careful thing. Unfortunately, I didn't do well enough in both of these areas.
A person's life is too short to do a few things. When I chose to write, I degraded other survival functions, although I did not dare to slacken off, but I knew that my self-knowledge was simple and my talent was thin, and I could not reach the realm I longed for, and I could not complete the works I pursued. Someone else may be building a mansion, I just run a farm courtyard.