【Caption】
In mid-July 2019, I attended the Tsinghua University Young Writers Workshop in Beijing for 6 days. Initiated and organized by two professors from the Department of tsinghua Chinese, the writer Ge Fei and the poet Xidu, the workshop is the second edition this year, inviting eight young poets from all over the country to discuss and discuss with the poets and predecessors in Beijing. Although the workshop has a limited time, it has formed a "force field" with ultra-high knowledge density and literary energy. As a reporter of "289 Art Fashion", this essay is an observation and record of the dual vision of writers and media people.
- Li Heng
Endless conversations
——Essay of Tsinghua University Young Writers Workshop
Day 4
What time do you have over there
After two or three days, the young writers workshop has been called a young writers concentration camp by several tired poets, locked in a small dark room to speak, fight, confess, and defend, and the mind must run at high speed and cannot doze off. Xidu was also injured and suffered a serious cold. Hu Sang coaxed his daughter every day, got up at six o'clock, pounded several cars and subways from mentougou, and on this day, he finally couldn't climb and worked for a little half a day.
In the morning, Su Fenglei's discussion fell into a state of life and death fatigue and no heart for war. The most spirited were the two guests, Qingping, a senior editor of the Writers Publishing House and a poet, and Zhang Jieyu, a teacher at Renmin University.
Qingping's serious illness has just healed, next to someone like me who has a wide heart and a fat body, it is especially clear, and when commenting, I directly deliberate on the gains and losses of rhetoric, and the big place is to solve the cattle, and the small place is rushed away. Zhang Jieyu is a student of modern literature, and she humbles herself and is a layman for contemporary poetry, and she reads from Feng Lei's writing that Shen Congwen's generation of literati regarded the rural experience of childhood as a spiritual utopia. I followed the writers of the Republic of China and said that Feng Lei's writing made me think of Yu Dafu, mourning, and hot, but the occurrence of this kind of writing is often self-touching.
DF Park (excerpt)
After sending you both away, back to the accommodation, with dry eyelids,
I took a nap and enjoyed this leisurely afternoon,
I depend more or less on it, the wetness and sweetness of this withered mallet:
I went back to a hilly field somewhere in my hometown,
This terraced field, like the Cape of Good Hope, condescending,
I stepped on its beautiful tracks, smelled its rice,
Harvested with a group of Friends from China and the West
Humble golden, and harvested paddy field between rice stubble,
There are fat yellow eels, crucian carp, and even odd shapes
Blackfish, they are numerous and docile, let us catch...
I went to the Holy Land, and once again, my tears of joy flowed spontaneously.
The afternoon is my special session, sincerely afraid. Hu Xudong, an associate professor at Peking University's School of Foreign Chinese and executive director of the Brazil Center, who is proficient in six Chinese dialects and more than 20 domestic dialects, shed ten pounds of sweat at the renovation site of the new house, shy of a large watermelon-like belly, and went deep into the "enemy camp" next door like a scout.
In the past ten years, Every early summer, Teacher Hu has gone deep into the front line of enrollment with Tsinghua in the Northwest Hubei Examination Area with Xiangyang as the core. This year, under his command, the score line of Peking University science in Hubei, a major province of the college entrance examination, exceeded tsinghua by 5 points. Whenever he lit a Yellow Crane Tower and talked about recruiting students to "resist the enemy", Hu Xudong was like an old general playing with the spoils of war.
As soon as Hu Xudong opened his mouth, a thunderclap suddenly exploded in the dull and weary air. Before commenting on my poems, he first sketched my hometown of Shiyan. Because after his brother was born in the countryside of Hechuan, Chongqing, from the age of 6 to 18 before going to college, he also spent time in Shiyan. He said that shiyan as a third-line immigrant city built by the second automobile, northeasterners are equivalent to Mongolians, Shanghainese are equivalent to Semu people, other foreigners are equivalent to Han people, and local natives are equivalent to southerners. Sadly, I am a native. I patted him and exclaimed, it turns out that you and I are a "colonizer" and "colonial people" relationship. Hu Xudong continued, "Li Heng's greatest luck is that he was born more than ten years later, otherwise he might have been robbed by me on the street when he was a child." Two years ago, he returned to Shiyan to recruit students, and a student he recruited said that his uncle had been forced by the teenager Hu Xudong to scare and grab money with bricks on a street corner. When Hu Xudong was a teenager, he did this while doing hooligan Ah Fei and becoming a school bully, and was admitted to Peking University.
He then described the time when I went to Peking University with two guys named "Ostin" and "Dominic" to find him to visit the docks. Ostin and Domini I were the names of my two good brothers who wrote poetry during college, Li Hao and Juhe, who later became Catholic churches in Rome. Such cold knowledge was actually pulled out by Hu Xudong. Li Haipeng, who often played with Zhu He, held back for two minutes, and finally couldn't stop laughing, like a porcelain cup that had been blown up by boiling water. The whole audience laughed like drunken people trying to stand firm, and suddenly a gust of evil wind blew in, and the collective turned from side to side.
After entering the main topic, Teacher Hu immediately switched a face, used his poetry criticism to talk about my writing from four aspects: First, for a person born in the hinterland of China, the middle of nowhere, through the continuous erasure of time and space, a Mobius ring of time and space sensibility was formed. Second, in the hesitant, wobbly mental structure, the relationship with God is infinitely pluralized. Third, as a cinephile, the experience of video viewing is internalized into rhetoric, and The Prison of the Eyes is a symmetrical, intertextual poetic mirror image of Tarkovsky's seven and a half films. Fourth, it is possible to become a child of civilization that observes the world from the fulcrum of Guangzhou, which happens to be a turbulent and de-essential existence in the coordinates of civilization.
Guangzhou: Rain Labyrinth
The whiskers of the air roots, the fallen feathers, the climbing tiger,
Palm, cycad, iris, nanyang,
Hibiscus, kapok, wind suzuki, phoenix wood.
There are still a few days left in March, and the big leaf banyan tree has boundless yellow leaves
Spiraling down on the strings of the spring rain, the earth is the case.
In other words, someone else is going to get lost in the labyrinth of rain.
Rain, a circular tunnel, a hive of wind,
At each entrance he got in or out of the car, with the sound of brakes
The tail note of moisture. By May, the thin blade of raindrops
Cut the sha in his body: the twilight in his chest
and the dawn of the abdominal cavity. The earth is the same as his body
Seventy percent is water, rain falls, every drop is
The fragments of the sea, related to him. This rusty water valve is like
The city, like the outlet of the pool or bathtub,
Spinning, connecting the two worlds. It could also be said that it is
Navel between Huayi. In August, the air is chilling
Pearl River Beer's glass bottle condenses into beads of water to slowly
It flows at a tropical speed, as if it were going to be from rain
Distinguish between tears. August is confined to an empty container,
It never ends. The foam never runs out.
Wang Dongdong thought of Kieslowski's film "Two Flowers", and Veronica's crystal ball leads to another self in a distant country. He said, "Li Heng is like a poet who carries a crystal ball with him and constantly polishes it, and everything he sees through this crystal ball has a halo." The biggest inspiration for me was that I saw the "discovery of human nature" in my writing.
After dinner, the writer Li Er, Du Lulu, Hu Sang, Wang Dongdong and I drank tea on the small island of Hetang. Unfortunately, I have not yet read the masterpiece "Brother Ying Wu" of more than a thousand pages. It is said that Li Er improvised the recitation of Song Lin's long poems when he participated in the Nandu Chinese Literature and Media Award in Shunde. He said, "In the 1980s, I also wrote poetry, and then I found that poetry differs from novels in that poetry often omits the interesting points in novels. He also said to us, "Your generation of poets is unlucky to participate in the construction of the Chinese language, as Chen Dongdong did in the 1980s." However, Qingping had his own opinion in his afternoon speech: "I believe that literature has evolved, and now the constructiveness of poetry is more important than the creativity of poetry." ”
Back in the room, his ass was still hot, and Haipeng came over with a bottle of wine, this time he bought Marcio Bourbon whiskey. Just drinking wine, gossiping, talking about writing, wine is like a bucket, carrying us into the bottom of the well at midnight. I asked, what time is it? While pouring yourself a glass. The monk Cao could not stay up and retreated first. Haipeng and I are also wandering objects, and our breath is like gossamer. I picked up the bottom of the bottle, and on the sticker on the bottle I wrote: "This whisky is thick and powerful, with vanilla, leaf, citrus, toffee, spice and dusty..."
【Written by】 Li Heng
【Courtesy photo】Li Heng, Center for Literary Creation and Research, Tsinghua University
【Author】
【Source】 Southern Press Media Group South + Client South + Cultural and Creative Channel