Yu Xiuhua once shook the poetry world with sincere and hot words, "Moonlight Falls on the Left Hand", "Shaking the World" and "We Have Loved and Forgot" have won the favor of many readers, and the cumulative sales have exceeded one million copies. After years of ups and downs and experiences, Yu Xiuhua's hometown, love, desire, and life in Yu Xiuhua's poems are more heavy, and the aftertaste is long, but it is still full of warm and frank life force that hits the heartstrings.
Yu Xiuhua, born in Zhongxiang, Hubei Province in 1976, suffered from cerebral palsy due to cerebral hypoxia at birth, making it difficult to move. After graduating from high school, he was at home. In 2009, he officially began to write poetry. In November 2014, he published his poems in Poetry Magazine. In January 2015, the poetry collection "Moonlight Falls on the Left Hand" was launched, ranking among the top sellers of Chinese poets' works in the past 20 years, and topped the "2015 Chinese Literature List" of Douban Reading. During the same period, she was awarded the first place in NetEase's "2015 Top Ten Women Award" and was named "2015 Author of the Year" by Publisher magazine. In November 2016, director Fan Jian's documentary "The Rickety World" by Yu Xiuhua won an award at the Amsterdam International Documentary Film Festival (IDFA), known as the "Oscar of Documentaries".
In my impression, Yu Xiuhua's love and hate are always direct and passionate, without the slightest concealment, so much so that she herself said, "Many times I am ashamed of my excess love." "Since the spring of 2015, my name seems to have a physical reaction with poetry, which is not really my concern. Poetry is the most real part of a person's soul, and being able to be liked by others shows that we can empathize, and empathy is far from a bosom friend, which is also something I deliberately avoid. However, it is precisely this empathy that makes us seem to have found a partner, and it is undoubtedly a comfort that when one person is looking at the stars in the middle of the night, there are others looking at the other place at the same time. From 2015 to the present, people have always asked me what changes have changed, and I will not say much about the changes that can be seen, although there are imaginary parts of this change, and I will not explain it. ”
When we are accustomed to the "deviant" Yu Xiuhua in the field of public expression, opening her poetry collection again is like a glimpse of the back of the door: a person sitting in the village listening to the rain, shy, silent, and churning inside. "It's like burying your head in the water, not caring about your breath, swimming all the way on, never finding the other side, but having no choice but to swim. This state is the state of my life, and it is also the state of my writing: writing without a purpose, writing without seeking to understand. To this day, I still can't give a definition, even vaguely, of 'poetry'. But I never felt ashamed of it, as if the light filled the room, and one still couldn't tell the ins and outs of the light. Camus said that the world is absurd, even if you have enough reasons to refute it, and the result of the counter-proof is still in the category of absurdity, so living with the "absurd" seems to have become a vague survival psychology for me. ”
"Blossoming in the Back Mountains" includes more than 150 new poems written by Yu Xiuhua in recent years, her poems have a bold and beautiful imagination, and her description of the pain of life is powerful through the back of the paper, bright and open, giving people the fresh power of life. For example, "Rain": "The rain began to fall at nine o'clock in the morning, and the trembling of the roses / It began at eight o'clock / Last night we talked for a while / The gardenias in the yard sent a milky fragrance / 'He didn't know I liked him' / His name smelled of mint and pressed on my tooth plate / The rain began to fall at nine o'clock in the morning, and the fish were in turmoil / It started last night / We need a brighter middle age / Let the green vines of the next year wake up, Climb up to the ledge again / My pocket is full of a river / Greet him / - the brightest of waves / Those who praise the rain will run in the rain / Our respective provinces slope down a hillside / The first to merge are the two rivers / The wind ceases, between one drop of rain and another / These additional parts / I will slowly pluck it out. "An Afternoon in Hengdian": "Cuckoo has been calling for some days. After the rape is harvested, the seedlings are planted / They laboriously and bare squeeze out the new green of the years / The water in the field supports the blue sky, but you know / It is shallow / After another ten years, in the same paddy field / His seedlings are also planted a little shallower / He is still counting on a good harvest to feed the aging flesh every year / He also hopes to have a little surplus / Fortunately, build a grave on the edge of this field and give it to himself / My father and I have no land. Coming back from odd jobs / He knocked the mud off his feet in front of the new rural house / The plants retreated from me into the distance. It's not like in the original home/When you open the door, you can see crazy seedlings and weeds/I can't see my mother anymore/Now she hides in a small urn and hides in the ground/No more news/Hengdian's crops are harvested every year/Still raise me and my father skinny/Fortunately, with a little effort, I can pull out rice, wheat, and rape/Pull out turtle doves, magpies, crows, and crickets/They are in my bones, pulling me who want to float up to the clouds/Yes, I won't float into the air/And I lost my mother, and I lost half of Hengdian/ The yard of the old house is full of leaves / It's under my nose / Decadent. The decades-old water tank / empty pestle in the kitchen. ”
In this new collection of poems full of love, the deep affection for his hometown, the delicate honesty of family affection and love, and the keen perception of daily life are presented in Yu Xiuhua's poetic language full of personality as always; At the same time, a deeper reflection on the nature of life has been added, and the whole has become more mature. After eight years, Yu Xiuhua returned to the poetry scene again, and claimed to have completed the mission of writing, because "in all my love, my love for words is enduring", and in front of the most loyal words, "all the sufferings have become side dishes". For example, about love, "Yes, I'm in Love with a Person": "On the street I often walk, the sycamore is green again/Those palms are as green as the palms, and they can't wake up a person who doesn't know whether to live or die/Some acquaintances are old/They don't care about the leaves of the plane tree, they don't care/Some people die in car accidents or die of disease/How many times have I fantasized about my own death/I have loved some people, and they are all people I don't want to see again when I die/But this time, I hope / Lost in his arms / I hope he put a piece of yellow paper on my face/ Like a sycamore tree that puts a leaf / on the ground. "About daily life, "Sheltering from the Rain": "At four o'clock in the afternoon, the rain fell heavily / A few sparrows hid under the window lattice. The buds of the moon season / fluttering in the rain and wind / two people under the eaves opposite. They are all wearing faded gray shirts/They talk, they don't look at each other/As if there is no place to worry about life/I went to the balcony to see the moon tree, it was so hot and dying a few days ago/Now it is relieved/I watched with it as the raindrops rolled down the balcony railing/Shaking the joy of recovering from a minor illness/They all embraced the joy of sheltering from the rain through the eaves of this world/Two people opposite, one lit a cigarette/Hand it to the other/How gorgeous that little spark is/Not everyone can burn it/I want to smoke too/ I want this tree to take a sip too. "About hope, "I like to live like this without hope": "Like the stars give themselves to the night sky / A river to the rainy season / Like a migratory bird gives itself to migration / A fish gives its life to a narrow canal / Like the wind gives itself to a deep alley / The alley gives the rings to the full moon / I just give myself to a village and give it / The years are prosperous and withering / Give half of my life to a new birth / The other half to death / I like to live without hope like this/ Sitting carnally on the robe of the day / I praise what can still be taken from my body / Like tearfully accepting something that is late. ”
Singer Li Jian once commented: "I like Yu Xiuhua's poems, her poems are organic poems that grow from the land. 'Write poetry in the clouds, live in the mud', this is also a sentence I borrowed from myself. And the host Chen Luyu believes that Yu Xiuhua's poems are far more thrilling, brighter, and more cruel than her and her life. Also, historian Luo Xin said that in Yu Xiuhua's poems, the body and the soul, the ego and the world, the instant and the eternal, the philosophy and the emotion, are mixed together with explosive intensity, making you give up the distinction and sink in the torrent of her poems regardless of it.
Yu Xiuhua is humble and "this collection of poems is still written about small love and little love", at a time when everyone is looking for a sense of value, these true and wild "little love" are particularly precious. A fading hometown, a deviant love, a pure and honest desire, a broken but still hopeful life...... Yu Xiuhua uses poetry to sort out her gains and losses, looking for her "place in the world". In her poetry, each of us will empathize. As she herself said: "In the past few years, I have received many praises and insults, which have kept me awake at night." How unjust is this: I don't have much connection to the world, so why should I bear the malice of creating something out of nothing? In fact, I think in my heart that I am superficial, and I don't even have the most basic wisdom. Fortunately, the foundation of my life is still solid, and although I am constantly spinning in this whirlpool, I have never detached myself from life itself. Poetry undoubtedly strengthens the foundation of this life. (Reader Daily all-media reporter He Jian)