Appreciation of Ma Prose in Xi An Shu

I don't remember what I did when I first went to Xi 'an. I don't even remember the exact time. I only remember that I went to Ganling. Carrying a small bag, dressed in rags, a scholar arrived at the railway station and boarded a tourist bus about to leave for Fuling. A trip in my early years has been rummaging through my memory over the years.

I came down from the northern Shaanxi Plateau and cut grass and grazed cattle on the loess high slope since I was a child. When I went out, the mountains were like waves. When I stood under the Ganling Plateau, I suddenly felt another kind of weather-the remoteness and vastness of the earth. The smoke haze rising from the majestic ridge has put a mysterious veil on Ganling. From Sima Shinto Banpo, there is a sense of lingyun, with clouds in front of you and clouds in history. Huabiao, Winged Horse, Ostrich, War Horse, Horse Puller, General Naoko, Wordless Monument, Holy Monument, Statue of Sixty-one Chen Fan and Shishi, all these solemn things have reached the depths of history in an instant along the expression of this thousand years ago.

Ganling was built in the prosperous Tang Dynasty, and construction began in 684 AD. All the construction projects were completed after 57 years in power of Wu Zetian, Zhongzong and Zong Rui. The ground buildings of the cemetery are modeled after Chang 'an City in Tang Dynasty, and are divided into Miyagi, Imperial City and Outer Guo Cheng. 1400 years of wind and rain have consumed many palaces and pavilions, but a woman's name has been constantly polished in history books.

Is cruelty really her intention? Knowing people and being good at their duties, and advocating people of insight to recommend themselves, the Tang Dynasty took the lead, and the "Kaiyuan Shi Sheng" came into being. From a maid-in-waiting to a queen, she controlled her ministers and ruled the country. She did so many earth-shattering events and ruled the country for 46 years, but left a blank sheet of self-evaluation.

After her death, she returned to the soil of Liangshan, where a woman was reflected. The height of the North Peak is like a woman's head, and the lower part of the South Peak is her breasts. With his head resting on Liangshan and his foot on Weishui, there is a woman lying between heaven and earth. Yuan Shang in Liangshan and Benshan, a tyrant? Zhu Ming? Romantic queen? All mysteries, all suspense, all clouds, including time, are all concentrated in that silent monument.

Entering and leaving the northern Shaanxi Plateau

Jia Pingwa said in Zeng Zeng: "Ma Yusheng is in northern Shaanxi and grew up in northern Shaanxi. Write the true taste and spirit of northern Shaanxi and make a biography for northern Shaanxi. "

My roots have been deeply rooted in northern Shaanxi all my life.

Going in and out of the plateau is my way of life.

Many people go to Xi by plane. Especially those bosses have heard that Shenmu, a young coal boss, got off the plane in Xianyang, carried it to a Lincoln car waiting outside in a sedan chair, and drove directly to the hotel without stepping on the ground. There is also a coal boss who will meet his lover in Xi 'an on weekends. When there was a traffic jam on the expressway, he left Daben and tried to leave.

The plane ticket is several hundred yuan. I am a scholar. Every time I go to Xi, I take the train. This is a road for people in northern Shaanxi and also a historical road.

Time and again, my eyes wandered in the northern Shaanxi Plateau, in Wanling, Qian Shan, looking for palace ruins, city sites, military stations, passes and beacon towers; Sometimes my thoughts travel through time and space, reaching the depths of history, wandering on Qin Zhi Road, picking up the footprints of cattle and horses scattered on the road, as well as the footprints of men, women and children. Many roads are chosen along the river valley, and the only straight Qin road crosses the ridge and highland, which is known as the ancestor of the world expressway. Out of Jinsuo Pass, the armies of Qin and Han Dynasties often suddenly appeared in front of tarquin-but they made the Dragon City fly and did not teach Humadu to go to Yinshan Mountain.

I often look out of the window silently. That hillside, or a tree, may be an abandoned earthen kiln, a river, a vegetable field beside someone's yard, geese flying over the hill, or a person walking on the ridge. I can't say anything. Staring at the vicissitudes and massiness of northern Shaanxi, I feel that my writing is still very shallow. All I know is that their blood runs through my veins. My life and story are their continuation. The words I wrote with laughter and running are the songs of my life and a part of the northern Shaanxi epic.

A scholar stands on the northern Shaanxi Plateau and often looks at xi 'an. If the sky is clearer, he can overlook the Qinling Mountains.

Go to school in Xi 'an.

When I was a child, my biggest dream was to go to junior high school in our county like my peers. In the summer vacation after the first day of junior high school, I herded sheep on the stone slope by the Miaohe River. A pedestrian across Dashigou shouted to this side, let's take a message to Ma's family, saying that his studies in Shenmu City have not been completed. I am the one who wants to send a message to the horse. At this point, I completely broke my dream of going to school in the city.

In my children's generation, children will go to school in Xi 'an.

I don't know how big Xi 'an is, but I remember that place on Taiyi Road, where I took my children to finish the registration formalities in West Rail No.1 Middle School and went out to eat in the street. We found a small restaurant under a row of tall buttonwood trees. When I left Yulin, a female colleague said that this time, my daughter will spend less time with you in her life, and she will not belong to your family. My daughter is only 15.

When the food was served, I suddenly burst into tears, not only weeping, sobbing, but also completely ignoring other guests sitting around, and it took me twenty or thirty minutes to stop. A woman's words made me cry so much in the ancient city of Xi 'an. I left a lasting mystery for other guests who ate in that small restaurant on a cloudy day.

In the afternoon, my daughter went to class in the classroom.

I will buy her a bookcase. Walking halfway up the West Furniture City in the South Second Ring Road, I found a simple bookshelf made of angle iron and fixed with a screwdriver in a small shop. Not too thick angle bars are packed in two bundles, one in each hand. After all, it is an iron bar and a bookcase. I don't have a hunchback I've almost walked dozens of steps, and I still have to rest on the ground. The road is not very far. I didn't see a tricycle coming along the way, so I went back. My nose fell off, I didn't wipe it, and my wrist was numb. I held my breath and rushed forward. After walking for a while, my belt came loose, so I had to stand down to lift my pants and fasten my belt again.

I went to my daughter's dormitory, spread the materials all over the floor and began to assemble. No one helped me all afternoon, and sometimes I put them backwards. When I used up half the screws and covers of the food bag, the bookshelf was installed. I think this scholar and bookcase still have a good idea.

On the loess high slope, under the scorching sun, my father took a cart to the middle school in the town to give me rations. When climbing a mountain, there are enough empty cars to pull on the ridge. There are several bags of grain in it. My father, who was less than forty years old, grabbed the shaft by his wrist and pushed his foot into the loess, but he was dragged by the cart and slipped. He has a rope on his shoulder. In order to make the rope more energetic, his head is about to bend to the slope above ... Many years later, I walked on the street in Xi 'an, where my father walked on the mountain road in his hometown.

On the platform of the railway station, under the bus stop sign and in front of the traffic lights, I carried a big bag and bent over. I guess I'm not the only one. How many parents rush about like this for their children!

Then I went to the Big Wild Goose Pagoda alone. I 16 years old left my hometown without graduating from junior high school. When I was a teenager, I spent a lot of time mowing grass and herding cattle. I seldom read other books except primary school textbooks. Only one The Journey to the West was left by an old gentleman in the village. At that time, every family went to the old man's house to write Spring Festival couplets during the Spring Festival, and our children's house pressed paper and wiped ink for the old man to borrow. I can't remember how many times I watched it. Xuanzang's journey to the west to learn from the scriptures, a narrow escape and hardships, is exactly what our family, especially our daughter, needs in the future. The setting sun has sunk under the buildings in the western sky. In the twilight, a scholar looked up at the Big Wild Goose Pagoda.

Reading Jia Pingwa's Prose

When I was teaching in Trilateral, I went to great lengths to get a cave from school, which was all my possessions. A bookcase is placed horizontally under the window, separated from the window and wall into a relatively closed space, which becomes my study and writing room. It is in such a study that only a simple wooden chair can be placed, and a person can sit down and read my book by the blue light and the moonlight in the window. One book that I have been reading repeatedly is Selected Prose of Jia Pingwa.

There is a passage in the book "A Writer": writing every day and writing every month makes people "like a hungry ghost". But the manuscript was sent out one by one and returned one by one. Editors don't write back, but they always leave printed rejection slips, sometimes with their names and sometimes without their first names. ...

How many times have I sat on the fence of the garden and read in front of that old locust tree? Not only good prose, but also a young man found strength and direction in it! Teacher Jia stated in the article "My Steps and Me on the Steps": Since the summer, my upper body has often been sick, and my cold has almost never stopped. It's always stuffy in the morning and evening. I warned myself that the pen couldn't stop. When hemorrhoids are inflamed, I kneel on the chair and lie prone on the bed to write. When my wife was in her confinement, I sat by the fire drying diapers and wrote ...

One day, my wife and I had a quarrel. She always feels wronged. I went out for a walk and came back, and she tore my Selected Prose of Jia Pingwa to pieces. There are so many books on the shelf that she chose this one alone. Not long after that, I went to Yulin on business. Suddenly I saw this book in a small bookstore called "Modern Bookstore" in Yulin Old Street. I was so happy that I bought one soon. I walked out of the store with steamed stuffed bun on my back, but I stopped for a long time. I want to buy another one. But at that time, the salary was really too small and there was no extra income. Sometimes I have to borrow money from others in 50 yuan. I am such an emotional person, so I went back to the bookstore and bought a copy of Selected Works of Jia Pingwa.

A primary school teacher in a county town never had a chance to meet Jia Pingwa at that time. At that time, while reading Mr. Jia's article, I silently imagined him walking on the northern Shaanxi Plateau. A few years ago, he actually came to the three sides where I live! In the article "Walking on Three Sides" in this anthology, he wrote: It is difficult to travel for three thousand miles in northern Shaanxi, and the clouds fall in Yun Sheng, and the moon is short and round. At dusk, a person walks alone on the ridge of a ravine, and the wind from east to west blows like a saw; In the middle of that month, I was lying alone under the bed of a small shop listening to the sound of cricket outside Chai Fei, and I was going to turn over the border to fill the poem. ...

I have been working with words all my life. What doomed my life and destiny? It may be the books I read in adolescence: Leaves of Grass, Life, Ordinary World and Greening Trees ... They infected my life mood and influenced my thinking about choosing the road and direction. One of the most important books is Selected Prose of Jia Pingwa.

Later, I went to Xi 'an and visited Mr. Jia Pingwa several times to listen to the master's teachings. On several occasions, he was left to have lunch in the unit building of his institute. Before eating, Wang Lizhi brought a stack of Jia's books with notes on them, saying that they were all signed by Jia. After Jia finished bookmarking, I held my portfolio in Jia's hand. At this moment, Mr. Jia said, please sign my name. My first reaction made me say: I can't write. Teacher Jia said, leave a souvenir! Then he handed me the pen that he had just signed. There is no way out. I picked up the pen and my hands shook badly. I wrote on the title page of my book: please correct me ... what is the "event" that a literary youth is proud of! But I never dare to make people laugh in front of others. I wrote here for the first time to tell the world about the master's mental journey.

, Chen

I have two tickets for Mr. Chen.

I went to Ann to see Mr. Chen in the name of writing an inscription for the newspaper supplement. 1in the spring of 998, I was recruited to work in a newspaper. Just after I came to work for a period of time, the newspaper still needs to recruit people and ask us advanced students to take the unified recruitment examination. I failed Sun Shan in that exam. The reason why I came in first was because some of my essays at that time attracted attention. At that time, Wang Shixiong, the minister in charge of the Propaganda Department, had dinner with the editor-in-chief of the newspaper. Minister Wang's article on Malay is well written! Outsiders can see clearly that newspapers should recruit people with good articles. Independent newspapers don't think so. First of all, in a place like a newspaper, it is always unclear who writes a good article. Secondly, newspapers don't have to use articles, which is probably always the case. When they were arguing, Minister Wang specifically quoted an article I published in the newspaper supplement, "Flowers Sacrifice the Soul", which was written by Lu Yao. It snowed heavily in June165438+1October 17 in northern Shaanxi that year, which happened to be the anniversary of Lu Yao's death. I wrote this plot in the article and got such a topic. The editor-in-chief said that this is creation, and it is impossible to snow at this time of the northern Shaanxi solar calendar. Minister Wang retorted that there are six In the snow in literary works. Later, it snowed in May and snowed heavily in August in northern Shaanxi. That time, I didn't play cards according to the routine, so I stayed in the newspaper. Later, an addendum was compiled. It is in this way that I have the opportunity to get in touch with Mr. Chen.

Through a friend's contact, I said that President Chen had gone to Beijing and would not be able to return to Ann until the next afternoon. Everyone agreed that I would call the next day.

The next day was Saturday, and it rained. Should I call? Walking alone in the street of Xi 'an, the world is full of water. The plane leaves on both sides of the street are falling in the autumn rain. After a few steps, I have to wipe the cold rain from my hair and face with my hands ... I have to hurry back to northern Shaanxi. At that time, it was difficult to buy tickets by train. I got up the courage to call Chairman Chen, but the phone was connected. Mr. Chen said that he was in the car and couldn't hear clearly. He asked me to call again later. It is getting late. After a while, I got up the courage to call Chen Lao again. This time, Mr. Chen asked me to leave his mobile phone number, and he wrote it and told me to pick it up.

In the afternoon, it was getting dark. When I was ready to go back to northern Shaanxi and gave up hope, Chen Lao's phone called and asked me to answer the phone in his office from eight to nine in the evening.

Standing on Jianguo Road, where No.83 is located, the Shaanxi Writers' Association Courtyard is quiet and dark from the blue brick gate. Standing in the corner of the balcony, I lit a cigarette. I'm waiting for Chen Lao. Without moonlight, cigarette butts go out. Suddenly, I heard someone coming on the dark road ahead. Cough and spit loudly. Didn't the old man at the concierge tell me just now that President Chen has a cold today, won't he come? Judging from the sound of walking, it must be an old man coming. It was Chen Lao who came. I quickly stepped forward and shook hands with Chen Lao to thank him. When he got to the office, he put the words "Xin Tian You" written in advance at home in the literary supplement of Yulin Daily and another column in the cultural edition, "Northern Shaanxi Folk Song Performer", on his desk, so that I could see if it was ok.

Chen Lao lit a cigar and talked with me enthusiastically, asking in detail about the creation of our newspaper and Yulin literary writers. When I took out the book commemorating Lu Yao, which was published by People's Literature Publishing House and edited by Li Jianjun, a literary critic, and included my essay "Sacrificing the Spirit with White Flowers", I especially cherished it. When I wanted to ask Mr. Chen to write me a few words of encouragement on the title page of this book, he happily picked up a pen and wrote this sentence according to my request: "A locust tree, its leaves were blown off by the cold wind, and its heart was frostbitten by ice and snow. That's a big tree I met when I was teaching in Trilateral in my twenties. It's an old pagoda tree on the west wall of the campus. Its trunk is winding and its crown is tall and plump, half the size of a basketball court. From the buds between the dark branches in early spring to the countless small white flowers in late spring, to the thick green crown in the scorching sun, and then to the yellow leaves falling every year when the autumn wind is together, it is dusk, wind, frost, rain and snow. Many times in five or six years, I stood alone on the concrete platform in front of the teaching building, on the garden wall, reading my book and the old pagoda tree. 1997, went to People's Literature Magazine for training. Everyone asked the editor to write an inscription as a souvenir. Teacher Li Jingze asked me what I should write for myself. Looking up at the distant Trilateral Plateau, I asked Miss Li to write my own poems in my notebook.

Later, I came to Xi 'an, and Chen Lao wrote me a sentence: "The Yellow River fell into the East China Sea, and Wan Li wrote it in his heart." It is still hanging on the wall behind my office. When people enter the room, they look at the word first. The dark little office in the dark corridor was lit up by this word. ...