Once a book becomes a wall, what you see doesn't seem to be a book anymore. As soon as the book is on the wall, it has another meaning, as if the house has been built and used for other purposes.
Hu Hongxia's night study
Outside the window, lightning and thunder were roaring, and the rain was gusting. Check the doors and windows one by one to avoid raindrops and moisture from infiltrating the book. By the way, I looked around the book wall and remembered a sentence I had just shared with my friends: "The book wall is a readable wallpaper". This "wallpaper" is expensive enough, of course, but there is also something that is much better than wallpaper: it is readable, and it is variable. Adjust the placement of books, such as changing the English "Book of Books" and Chinese book history monographs, or raising the folio edition of "Atlas of Chinese History" from the "art wall" on the first floor to the "document wall" on the second floor, and the "wallpaper" effect of the book wall will change.
There is no need to be taboo about the decorative role of books. A book wall is also a "work of art" for the owner of the study, and its function is similar to hanging an oil painting or ink on the wall. I sometimes like to pace aimlessly in my study, always looking triumphantly off the wall of the book around me. A single book is just a book, and when thousands of books make up a wall of books, it gives you a shock or inspiration or memory that you can't get from reading a book.
I am sometimes grateful for the walls I have built with my own hands, and I always feel that they have planned the path of my life, arranged the scenery along the way, and even have "this road is not passable" or "do not turn" signs on key sections. Decades on, I'm still on the "wrong path" of reading and writing, thanks to my collection and the walls of books that make up it: on a few occasions they have done a good job of correcting my own direction and pulling me back to the path I chose in time. It's one thing if this road doesn't work, it's another thing whether you can keep going down this road.
By this time the rain had stopped, and my mind seemed to be glued to the wall. Suddenly I remembered a summer night thirty years ago, and I also sighed at the wall of books. At that time, Huangmugang was thriving in another village, and the newly built temporary houses in the open space next to them grew one after another, and the food street was even more vibrant, and karaoke was endless. I sat alone on the third floor of the "paper house" in the northwestern corner, and conceived the column "Candlelight Book Shadow" of the "Border Garden". The lamps are white, and mosquitoes are flying; Sweating, literary and thinking blocked. I smoked one cigarette after another, my eyes were foggy, I scanned the wall of books, first there was no book in my eyes, I saw nothing, and then I was inspired, and I thought to myself: why not just write this book wall? So I hurriedly wrote the title: "Facing the Book Wall".
Last night I was drunk, and tonight I was in a daze, so I started with drunkenness:
People may as well get drunk sometimes. The charm of drunkenness is not in the pre-drinking wine, but after the wine, in the moment of the first awakening from the drunken dream: lazy, sluggish, there is a light and soft emptiness, as if falling into the light smoke mist; The things I just said and the things I have done are like photos that are not in focus, vague and unreal. There is a small gap in life, like the end of a natural paragraph in the article. The article still needs to be written, but on a new line.
(It was really verbose at that time! Hurry up and get down to business, tell the story wall)
Why don't you start the next session by sitting on the wall of a book? Especially if you wake up late at night and it's raining outside.
(Why is it raining when writing the book wall?)
...... The sound of the rain sets off the heart of the house as quiet as a winter valley...... You sit on the bed and look at the wall of books on the other side—the hordes of books stand and lie and are stacked together, when did you block the whole wall and become a wall yourself? Once a book becomes a wall, what you see doesn't seem to be a book anymore. As soon as the book is on the wall, it has another meaning, as if the house has been built and used for other purposes.
(This meaning was written thirty years ago.) Alas, it doesn't grow like this)
...... In other words, sitting on the wall of books, what enters the eyes is the book, but what enters the heart is the person. The books that I used to read, tasted, turned two or three pages, and read three or four eyes, all of them are now "out of the book", and they are all in human form, bustling in front of you:
Mr. Lu Xun's sharp gaze can't penetrate the thick nostalgia in the afterglow; Emerson's mouth was like a river, and he couldn't persuade Li Bai's cups again and again; Shen Congwen lamented that things are human and wrong, the road is difficult to distinguish, he can't go back to Xiangxi, and he can't see the phoenix; Simone Beauvoir's eyes were sad: When will you be willing to enter my long memories? Zeng Guofan is indeed old, "In the future, I will no longer write family letters, make a phone call, send a fax, how convenient"; Zhou Zuoren is indeed becoming more and more lonely, in the vigorous era, he quietly talks to Lu Qi'an, who is thousands of years old; Li Wa behind Gao Yang came with model steps, and Xu Zhimo hurriedly said to Lu Xiaoman: "Mei, I will write to you"; And the young Werther was much calmer, he took Li Qingzhao's hand, "Last night the rain was sparse and the wind was sudden, I was looking for it, it was cold and lonely, miserable and miserable"; Liang Qichao no longer sang his "Young China" and hummed "Once Heartache"; Cao Xueqin no longer said his Rongning Second Mansion, and never left Gong Li and Zhang Yimou; Liang Shiqiu turned around and went into the kitchen, proving that he doesn't just "talk about eating"; Lin Yutang humorously asked: "The speech should be like a woman's skirt, the shorter the better, did I invent this?"
(In this paragraph, there are heavy traces of imitation, all the way to Dongqiao)
...... Of course, this cadre also has to talk about books, Qian Zhongshu said: "When I visited the Library of Congress, I was amazed by all the people who traveled with me, and I was also full of amazement, amazed that there were so many books in the world that I didn't want to read. Dong Qiao hurriedly said: "Reference books such as dictionaries are for wives, and it is advisable to always be by your side, but you may not be familiar with them after turning them over for a lifetime." Poetry and novels are only considered to be romantic encounters that can fascinate people, and they are always sweet in retrospect...... As for political commentaries, current affairs essays and other collections, they are all bought and sold now, nothing more than the girl on the green building, it will be over after a little affection, and it will not be the case if you look at it tomorrow......" Su Shi was stunned by Dong Qiao's "words", shook his head and said: "Old books are not tired of reading a hundred times, and they know themselves by reading them carefully." Charles Lamb seemed indignant: "Whenever I see things cloaked in books on the shelves, I can't help but be angry, because these false saints have usurped the shrine and encroached on the church, but have driven away the rightful owner with nowhere to live." "How long is Yu Qiuyu's cultural journey? How deep is Proust's watery years? How accurate is Freud's psychoanalysis? How difficult is it for the Sixth Patriarch Huineng to directly target people's hearts? How beautiful is Bai Juyi's hatred?...... Late at night in the drunken rain, you sit on the wall of the book and sit and wait......
(Done? )
In 1994, it was the stage when I wrote articles and struggled to trace famous artists, so I wrote a thousand words, and the style of writing changed back and forth. I still thank them for their articles and accompanying me through the first days when I first arrived in Shenzhen. Especially on rainy nights, like this sudden rain tonight, if it were thirty years ago, in addition to facing the book wall, I would definitely recite "Listen to the Cold Rain" in the afterglow. (Source: Economic Daily Author: Hu Hongxia)