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Do not deceive the dead, do not fail the living, and do not be ashamed of the comers
Episode 31: Pedro's Burning Wilderness, Jasmin's Wild Story (Part 2)
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My favorite South American writer is Juan. Juan Rulfo (16 May 1917 – 7 January 1986), a Mexican writer and photographer, lost his father at an early age and entered a colorless childhood under the care of his frail mother. Soon after his mother died, Rulfo was taken in by an orphanage. As a result, not only did he not have a soap bubble-like childhood, but he was also doomed to have a dashing and romantic youth.
For when others were on the knees of their parents, he watered his life with sweat and tears under the rebuke of the nuns; when others were talking about love under the moon before the flowers, he forced himself to open his tired eyes in the simple cultural night school. But that didn't stop him from opening his arms to literature that was almost as poor.
While applying for the civil service examination, he began a noble and arduous trek on the road of life: literary creation. He wrote many short stories recalling his childhood life, and also conceived a long story entitled "The Bitter Child", but it was unsuccessful. At this time, he felt another kind of poverty of his own: not enough cultural and literary attainments. As a result, he began to dabble extensively in all kinds of literary works at hand. At the same time, at the expense of blood and two other "poor children" Juan. Jose. Arreola and Antonio. Ala torre et al. founded the literary journal Bread.
His first short story was published by his publication, Bread. He then wrote a series of short stories, which were published in 1953 under the title Burning Plains.
Critics have called the collection a masterpiece of magic realism, when in fact Rulfo was quite traditional at this time. Later, China's Shandong writer Mo Yan also borrowed this magic realist writing technique to reproduce many tragic lives during the Cultural Revolution.
Not only is there not much magic in the work, but even in the 19th century, no one will be surprised. But that didn't stop him from showing his talent: a simplicity that was different and has been consistent ever since.
His works are all about rural life in Mexico. Some wrote about the Mexican Revolution, such as Lonely Nights, Plains of Fire, and We Got the Land. The first two articles describe the fiasco of the peasant rebels and the disillusionment of revolutionary ideals. The third article writes that the land acquired by the peasants after the "victory" of the revolution was a barren land of thirst and thirst that did not grow long.
The other part mostly writes about the poor, backward and rich in rural Mexico who are not kind to the rich and the poor who do not save their lives. There is no doubt that what makes Rulfo one of the famous Latin American writers is his "Fire on the Plains", as well as his novella "Pedro Lopez". Paramo". The latter may be his masterpiece. Juan. Rulfo's surviving works are very few, but they have a great influence on later generations, including Marquez, who has recollected Rulfo, and his works are also influenced by Rulfo:
Discover Juan. Rulfo, just like discovering Franz. Kafka, like kafka, is undoubtedly an important chapter in my memory. I'm in Ernest. Hemingway arrived in Mexico on the same day that he committed suicide by suicide (July 2, 1961), and I did not read Juan. Rulfo's books, never even heard of him. It's weird. First of all, at that time I knew a lot about the movement of the literary world, especially the American novel. Secondly, the first people I came into contact with in Mexico were with Manuel. Barbachano. Pence worked alongside the writers at dracula Castle on Cordoba Street, as well as by Fernando. Editor of the literary supplement of The News, chaired by Benitez.
They are certainly all familiar with Juan. Rulfo. Yet at least six months have passed, and no one has ever told me about him. Maybe it's because of Juan. Unlike the classic masters, Rulfo's works were widely circulated, but he himself was rarely talked about. I was thirty-two years old, a journalist in Colombia for a short time, had just spent three useful but grueling years in Paris, and eight months in New York, and I wanted to write a screenplay in Mexico.
The Mexican writers' circle was very similar to Colombia's at that time, and I was very comfortable in this circle. Six years ago, I published my first novel, Dead Leaves, and three books that have yet to be published: The Colonel Who Didn't Write to Him, which was probably published in Colombia at that time, and soon after by Vincent. Rojo asked for "The Evil Hour" published by Time Press, as well as the story collection "The Funeral of Aunt Grande". This last one was only an incomplete draft at the time because before I came to Mexico, Alvaro. Mutis had already lent the original manuscript to our esteemed Elena. Poniatovska, and she lost the manuscript.
After that I reorganized all the stories by Alvaro. Mutis asked Sergio to publish at the University of Villa Cruz. I never wrote for fame, both then and before, to make my friends love me more, and I think I've done that. My biggest problem as a writer is that after writing those books, I felt like I was in a dead end, and I was looking everywhere for a gap from which I could escape.
I'm familiar with writers who might have shown me the way, good or bad, but I felt like I was circling around the same point. I don't think I'm done. On the contrary, I feel that I have a lot of books to write, but I can't find a way to write that is both persuasive and poetic. Just then, Alvaro. Mutis strode up to the seventh floor with a bag of books to my house, drew the smallest and thinnest one from a pile of books, laughed and said to me, Read this thing,, learn! "That's Pedro. Paramo", written by Juan. Rulfo,
That night, I read the book twice before going to sleep. I haven't been so excited since I read Kafka's Metamorphosis in a gloomy student apartment in Bogotá on that wonderful night about a decade ago. The next day, I read Plains of Fire, and it shook me just as much. Much later, in the waiting room of a clinic, I saw another messy masterpiece in a medical journal: "Mathilt. The Legacy of Alconher". For the rest of the year, I couldn't read other writers because I didn't think they were enough.
When someone tells Carlos. Verro, saying that I could recite Pedro in its entirety. Paramo", I had not fully recovered from the vertigo. In fact, it's more than that: I can recite the whole book, and I can recite it backwards without making a big mistake. This shows that true classics do not need to deliberately use flowery rhetoric and large-scale foreshadowing.
And I can also tell which page of each story I read, without any characteristics of a character I'm not familiar with. In all his works, Juan. Rulfo was careful not to pay attention to the age of the characters. In Pedro. In Paramo, it is impossible to determine absolutely where the line between the living and the dead is, and the accuracy of other aspects is even more empty talk. In fact, no one can know how long the age of death is. I say this because for Juan. The in-depth understanding of Rulfo's work finally led me to find the path I needed to find in order to continue writing my book.
Therefore, when I write about him, it is inevitable that everything will seem to be writing about myself. Now, I would also like to say that in order to write these brief nostalgic words, I re-read the whole book, and I once again simply felt the shock of reading it for the first time. His work is only three hundred pages long, but it is almost as vast as the work of Sophocles as we know it, and I am sure it will be as enduring.
Because of the time, I did not finish reading Juan. All of Rulfo's work, but actually read a short story, that is, "The Burning Field", it is Juan. Rulfo's collection of short stories, which depict the rural world of Mexico, depicts real life after the Mexican bourgeois revolution of 1910, and profoundly exposes the incompleteness of its revolution.
Critics attach great importance to this collection of stories, starting from the perspective of narrative, anthropology, social politics, etc., and dissecting and playing with these dozen stories upside down. In the history of literature, it is regarded as one of the seminal works of modern Mexican literature. Juan. Rulfo (1918-1986) was a Mexican novelist known as the "pioneer of the new Latin American novel", who left only extremely limited works in his lifetime, but was highly regarded by generations of literary heroes.
Like me, he was born in rural Mexico and grew up in an orphanage. His poor childhood did not hide his desire to learn and his creative talent. His first short story was published by bread, a publication he founded. He then wrote a series of short stories, which were published in 1953 under the title Burning Wilderness. In 1955, Pedro. After the publication of Paramo, it was not well received, some people thought it was "well written", others thought it was "a pile of garbage". Rulfo calmly faced all this. After writing the novel, he was still at ease as his car tire salesman. This shows that true writing masters often do not rely on writing to make a living, but only regard writing as a hobby.
A few years later, Pedro. Paramo's fame established the writer's place in Latin American literature, but Rulfo never wrote any novels.
A world of independent nothingness: storytellers are talking to themselves, old people are waiting to die, saints are evildoers; the only way to solve the problem is desperate killing. The black blood of revenge flows along the texture of the wasteland, steaming in the daylight, transforming into poetry. When I read Juan. When Luvina of Rulfo was in a hurry, he immediately resonated in his heart, as if he were describing my hometown, "Among the high mountains in the south, The mountain of Luvina is the highest and the most stone. The mountains are covered with the kind of gray stones that can be used to burn lime. In Luvina, however, people do not use it to burn lime, and they do not use it to make a penny. There, they called the stone raw stone, and the hill leading to Luvina called the raw stone slope.
The air and the sunlight merely grind the rocks into fine pieces, so that the mountains there are white and sparkling, as if they are always wet with the dew of the morning; but this is just a thing to say, for in Luvina the day is as cold as the night, and the dew condenses in the sky and does not fall to the ground. ...... And the land is very high. Each side breaks into a bottomless cliff. The people of Luvina say that from the bottom of those cliffs, what rises up is a dream; but the only thing I see that rises up is the wind, which whistles, as if blowing through the reed bamboo pipes below...
From anywhere, Luvina is a very sad place. You're heading there, you'll feel it. I would say that it is a place where sorrow is nested. There, people don't know how to laugh, as if everyone's face is covered with a panel. If you want to, you can see this sadness at any time. The wind blowing there stirs this sorrow, but it can never take it away... Sit on the threshold, watch the sunrise and sunset, head up and down again, until the spring of the last body is loose, and then everything is calm, time is gone, as if living forever in eternity.
That's what the old people there do. Only old men and women are left, and some women have husbands, but only God knows where the man has gone... They come back from time to time, like the kind of torrential rain I just told you about; when they come back, the whole town can hear a ticking sound, and when they leave, there is another grunt... Aren't these true portrayals of traditional Chinese ancient villages? Looking at our rural areas today, are not there only the elderly and left-behind women? Migrant workers have gone to the city to work, and the village is dead most of the time.
They left the old man a pocket of food for food, planted another child in the belly of their woman, and then no one knew what happened to them, until the next year, and some people went away without a word... That's the rule. People there call it the law, and it's the same anyway. Children work for their fathers all their lives, just as their fathers work for their own fathers, and no one knows how many people have been ahead of them who have fulfilled their laws so repeatedly..."
These scenes of decay in the countryside he spoke of are also staged in the countryside of our country. "They're still there. You'll be able to see these people when you pass by now. They chewed makimesh and swallowed their saliva to temporarily numb the feeling of hunger. You'll see them clinging to the walls of the house, almost dragging the wind along, crawling over like shadows. ”
After I read the books of South American writers, I scoffed at contemporary Chinese writers, not only is china's modern novels lacking fine works, even movies are too bad, I don't know whether it is a problem of the system, or a problem of the nation, at least in the last ten years I have not seen any wonderful movies in China, and South American movies continue to surprise me, just like South American novels, it is simply the rebirth of Lu Xun.
For example, a recent movie "Wild Story" surprised me: "Wild Story" was directed by Damian. Directed by Szfron, Ricardo. Darling, Dario. Glentinetti, Erica. A drama film starring Rivas and others. The film was released in Argentina on August 14, 2014. The film consists of six heart-wrenching, independent short films that tell a revenge story with the themes of flights, restaurants, road rages, tickets, accidents and weddings. The film is made up of six separate, short, pithy stories, each with a very tense structure.
The climax of the plot comes suddenly and unexpectedly. The film begins with a beautiful model boarding the plane, and the beautiful model meets a personable music critic after boarding the plane, and they mention that they all know Gabriel. Pastnak, then people in the neighborhood responded, and they all knew each other. The passengers in the whole cabin knew Pastnack and offended him. One passenger said he had heard that Pasternac had recently become an aircraft pilot and that the plane had exploded. Pastenac's insane revenge, like the next five revenge stories, is sudden.
Each story has a genre overtone of black comedy. Looking at each other vividly and lively, the whole is also caring for each other, and the tension is moderate, just like Boccaccio's "Ten Days' Talk", both criticism and praise, and jokes and compassion coexist. From the perspective of the film, the strength of the film is not inferior to Hou Mai's 6 moral stories, but it is far more grounded than the latter, and it is completely devoid of the kind of holy light that emits in the ivory tower.
In the eyes of many Chinese film fans, "Wild Story" is a more exciting and exciting "Destiny of Heaven", in which some officials force the people to rebel, there are the drawbacks of the Chen system, and there are also ants competing with each other, which is ridiculous and sad and lamentable. In "Wild Story", the director tells things more thoroughly, which is ridiculous. Fortunately, he did not have false compassion, and used religion, morality, or chicken soup for the soul to impress the world—despite the wild kiss at the end, it would still be reminiscent of Paul. Fellini's Forgiveness is Love, but in fact, after watching this movie, more people will doubt love than they believe in love.
The film is a subversive creation of human out-of-control behavior, from the strange sense of humor, unique pictures and bold soundtrack, to the preference for the subject of ordinary people in desperate situations, you can clearly see the South American ghost director Damian. The similarities between Szfron and Almodóvar in their creations. Still, Szflohn made his own unique voice through the film: a sharp attack on a society where corruption is rife and economic and social inequalities are rife.
Of course, Argentina and Mexico are some ridiculous Latin American countries, the system is corrupt, once from the world's developed countries to one of the most underdeveloped rogue countries, of course, there are the consequences of the US Empire's interference, but mainly because many Latin Americans are as described in "Wild Story", which is simply unreliable and absurd.