Chapter 7 dark typeface

It was the son that was broken in order to come down from the sky to the earth.Still leaning against the rain of dirt and sand falling from the dark sky. Here, I want to make a little memory. Before I entered the printing office, due to the downturn in restaurants, my father set up an open-air stall selling cakes in front of the barracks in a place called the North, one mile away from Xiaocang to the south.He asked me to help, and I followed, setting up teppanyaki balls on the stove.The cakes are bought from cake shops, and the profit is very small.In order not to burn the cake, I kept turning it with a small bamboo knife while looking at the feet of passers-by.As soon as I found someone coming, I thought it was a customer, and I quickly leaned out from the citrus box to greet him.

At that time, I had a book in Iwanami Bunko.Among them is a translated "God's Laughter".I often slipped away from the stove, climbed up the hillside of the military training center, and read the book in my arms.There are yellow weeds and pine trees shaking in the cold wind.We had to walk a mile back and forth with the truck, and when half of the cakes we bought were pulled back, our hearts were heavy.The bucket hanging on the car rattled and shook, making people restless. The van is not our own either, and the rent is paid for with the money we earn every day.Therefore, we can't earn fruit.It was also my job to return the car to the owner.My father often entrusts me to tell people about the rent that has not been paid in the past two or three days, and I will pay it later.I took the empty truck that had been unloaded, and went to the house next to the ditch. The proprietress, who was about forty years old, came out to check the damage of the truck, and then satirized us and said: "If the rent is owed too much , no more borrowing!"

My father is incompetent, he doesn't know how to calculate, no matter what business he does, he will never succeed.When the situation improved slightly, he immediately dressed neatly, stepped on straight wood clogs, and walked back and forth with great vigor.He pushed all the business to his mother, and went to chat with acquaintances by himself. When I was in sixth grade, my father was selling salmon, and we lived in a wooden hut.My Ban Fengren Nakamura teacher once came to my home to persuade me to continue my studies.He was taken aback by seeing slugs crawling on the ground in my house, and never mentioned me studying for exams again.In my crowded home, there was only one window, and it was so dark during the day that even Nakamura-sensei's face standing on the ground (not a tatami mat for sitting) could not be seen clearly.

Selling cakes on the side of the road was when I was seventeen or eighteen years old.When I read Bukharin and Plekhanov's literary theory books, I thought they were translated by Yoshito Kurohara. That was when I was twenty-four or five years old, that is, when I was an apprentice in a printing house.It is by no means too early to prepare for a career in literature.But in any case, I want to master the art of lithographer, so that life can be settled.So, sometimes I went to ask Japanese painters for advice, and sometimes I practiced writing alone.In the end, reading novels became a leisure thing.

——Writing here, in order to breathe the cold air at night, I stepped out and stood in front of the room. The Orion constellation has risen to the top of my head, at half past one.Among the stars, I like Orion in winter and Scorpio in summer.It also brings back memories of my youth. I forget who taught me about Orion, I think it started with a tank.The man recited the short song aloud and pointed to the sky and told me about Orion.In Kokura, the Orion star rises from the summit of Mount Adachi.Like a rice ball threaded on a skewer, three stars are lined up, surrounded by four stars, and one on each side to form a square.Among them are three stars that resemble the signal flags on the ship's mast.The clear night sky in winter is beautiful.The stars are shining brightly in the night sky.

Orion is connected to my past life and relationships.Returning home from the printing office after working the night shift, the Orion star was posted on Mount Adachi.According to its height, I can know the time at that time.After joining the newspaper office, every winter, I would go home looking at the stars.When I was taken to the army, I watched the stars in North Korea for two more winters.The sky in North Korea is clearer than in Japan, which makes it even more beautiful.No matter where I am, as soon as I look up and see these stars, I will be plunged into despair and sorrow. Grandmother Masako passed away due to old age while opening a struggling restaurant in Nakajima, Kokura, before her parents became fishmongers.She was born in the Qingying period and lived to be more than eighty years old.

This grandmother, who is equivalent to father Minetaro's parents, is from Yonago.Because her father had no means of earning a living, she went to work as a servant in other people's homes when she was over 60 years old.When my parents quarreled, she said, "I said Gu, if you quarrel early in the morning, the family will not be able to prosper!" She made offerings to the Buddhist altar.The mother was angry that the grandmother only stopped her alone, but the mother did her duty for the mother-in-law.She never quarreled with her mother-in-law.I was also often caressed by my grandmother.She often said: "Don't be like your father." This is not because my father has no ambition. Grandma said: "Your father has small ears, and his life is not good. And his wife is not lucky. If a man's woman is not lucky , won’t get ahead.” She felt that her father’s unluckyness was born and caused by an unfortunate spouse.

When I was short of pocket money, my grandmother told me not to tell my parents. She went out the back door and came back in less than ten minutes, telling me to hold the fifty-cent silver coin.This has happened several times.It didn't look like the money was borrowed from a neighbor, and she didn't ask my parents for pocket money.If she had some money, her father would have taken it all long ago, so the provenance of this money is still a mystery.At that time, fifty cents was a lot of money. Grandma lost her eyesight in her later years and could not stand up on her feet, so she could only use her hands to grope around in the narrow room.At the age of seventy, as an elderly person, he wore a red flannel short-sleeved shirt and underpants issued by the city government, and when he crawled around, the bottom of the skirt kept showing a dirty fiery red color.My mother cut my grandmother's hair short, exposing her bald forehead, with only the matted white hair at the back.

Before she lost her eyesight, she bought eye drops from a nearby pharmacy by herself, and raised her jaw to administer eye drops alone, but those drugs were useless.After she lost her sight, her mother carried her to the bathhouse. Because she couldn't straighten her back, she often asked people to bathe with hot water at home.She was deaf, and I yelled "Grandma!" She slowly crawled over following the sound, and touched me affectionately.Grandma always sat alone in a dark six-fold room. Father and mother have to be busy with things in the store, so they can't take care of grandma.The mother looked sideways at the grandmother's appearance, and said pitifully to the visitor: "Before I die, don't be blind."

The mother later also died of old age.Three or four days before her death, she suddenly cried out: "Ah, I can't see my eyes! The child's father (pointing to me), what's wrong with me!" She was no different from her grandmother. On the day my grandmother died, it was a snowy day.The next day, when going to cremation, goose feathers and heavy snow were flying all over the sky.The crematorium is in the mountains a mile and a half away.Of course, there were special cars for coffins back then, but my father did not have the means to hire a car, so he could only put the white wooden coffin on a row car, and it was pulled by my mother's brother-in-law who lived nearby, and walked on the snowy road.I wore boots and followed along with my father and the rest of the fathers.When my grandmother's coffin was put into the stove, I couldn't help shouting: "Grandma!"

Later, my uncle said to me: "Your father has become a worthless pauper." They thought it was a shame not to hire a hearse in front of the neighbors. I have never been in contact with anyone, but I often go to Mr. H, who is nine years older than me, to play.He is the aforementioned partner who exchanged and read manuscripts with me. He does not write novels, but likes to read reviews and philosophical books.He worked in a pottery factory in Kokura.At one point, he fell in love with an outpatient nurse who had come to care for his father, and married that man over his parents' objections.In this way, he couldn't stay at home anymore. Under the persuasion of his wife, he quit his job in the factory in order to set up an outpatient nurse association, but his plan didn't go well, so he went back to Xiaocang and lived in an alley The second floor of a barber shop. Mr. H went to the municipal government to work on unemployment countermeasures, and his wife was still working as an outpatient nurse. Every time I went to the second floor of the two-room house where he lived, I saw that his old books were there, and they were not sold.He told me, and others.The works of Gide and Mann were very popular at the time. His wife is a good woman, but she is a bit willful. In order to start a family earlier, among the outpatient nurses, she only wants to take care of patients with notifiable infectious diseases.She said: "That way you can get the highest wages. Although it is hard work, but when you think of two yuan and fifty cents, you can bear it." The daily salary of two yuan and fifty cents was considered a high salary at that time. The nurse fell ill due to exhaustion. I went to visit at the end of that year, and saw a woman in her twenties and thirteen years old. She thanked me and said, "My sister has troubled you." It turned out that she was there. The younger sister who works as a nurse in a hospital in Oita.Later, Mr. H decided to take up his post and left Ogura first, followed by his wife and her younger sister who quit her job as a nurse. I feel a little lonely, and sometimes I go to Mr. H in Kobukuro twice a month.As soon as his wife saw me coming, she bought beef, eggs mixed with chopped fried tofu, and made a stew for me.Leaving aside the beef, boiled eggs are the best thing in the world.Now that I think about it, it is not easy for Mr. H to entertain me with a low salary. They borrowed the second floor of the farmhouse. There is a temple in front of it, a big ginkgo tree, and the Yuanhe River on the opposite side.The middle stream of the Onga River is the Iizuka, Nogata area. Along the river, green grass covers a gentle earth embankment.Cattle are grazing on the embankment, which looks like a pastoral picture, making people feel that the waterway is not there.In early spring, Mr. H's wife and younger sister picked celery and celery by the river.As I write this, I have never felt more cheerful than here.When the cherry blossoms were in bloom, my sister asked my sister to accompany me out.In May, the two of us walked on the grassy embankment road, going back and forth for about two miles.In the wheat field on the bank of the river, young people are blowing their melodious wheat flutes. I once thought of marrying this nurse's sister.It seems that Mr. H and his wife are also waiting for me to bring this up.However, with my own income, it is impossible to start a family.At that time, I was twenty-six years old, and from what I had seen in the unstable lives of many printing craftsmen, I lost the confidence to marry.Father and mother are still working as fishmongers.I didn't have the courage to bring her younger sister into such a poor family.I have remained silent forever. In the summer, his sister got engaged to a young monk in a nearby temple, and in the fall she married and went to the temple in Nagasaki. In this way, I naturally only have to read books, but almost all my salary is handed over to my parents, and I can't afford too expensive books.In Russian literature, among the writers after the successful revolution, there is one, he seems to have been to Japan, I think his novels are very interesting.His descriptions of Siberian nature are beautiful, and I thought the handling of wolves and such was good. American writers were also popular writers at that time, mainly exposing the internal contradictions of American capitalist society.He translated Bukharin's revolutionary literary theory one after another.At that time, in terms of drama, "Flying Song" was published. I have no interest in literary creation, so I just casually look at such things.Therefore, I don't even know "The Sower", and I don't know anything about the information of the Central Literary World. While I was working as a lithographer, Ogura published the "Lookout Glass" fanzine.Tamai Katsunori (Hino Weihei), Liu Hanji, Harada Tanao, Iwashita Shunsaku, etc., and later colleagues from "Kyushu Literature" gathered together, making it lively. Of course, I had no chance with these.Before that, the Kitakyushu Children's Literature Association was established. The main body was Tetsuro Kanan, an employee of the Kyushu Electric Railway Company (later Nishitetsu Railway), and Hakushu Kitahara, Takehiko Kurujima and others were called.Bai Qiu is a native of Liuhe, and Wu Yan is a descendant of the feudal lord of Bungo Forest.The backer of this association was a civil engineer named Toyojiro Hashimoto who once came from Osaka to Kokura, and he had a villa on the coast of Central Plains.He was quite proud of the young people who love literature coming to Hashimoto's villa, but it seemed that he deliberately wanted to draw attention to the beautiful Mrs. Hashimoto.After the death of her husband, this lady returned to Osaka and later became famous for her haiku. She was Takako Hashimoto who wrote "Sirius". The printing office in which I used to work has been reduced to a situation from which the owner cannot but flee at night.Later, I couldn't afford printing paper, so a young clerk who worked in a used paper wholesale store in the city was particularly accommodating.The clerk and I were classmates in elementary school, and he probably thought that he had given the paper money to my shopkeeper, so he looked down on me as an apprentice in the shop and didn't even say a word. However, that paper shop soon closed down.The owner is said to have redeemed a young prostitute named Mei Ruo who could sing very well.Mei Ruo was later Chiban Xiaomei. Neither the literary movement launched in Kokura Castle nor the rumors of old store owners playing geisha had nothing to do with me.Who cares about me, who wears wrinkled trousers, clogs, and carries a lunch box to the printing office?The air of literature can't blow around me at all.I got to know the companions of the "Lookout" magazine who sang "Down Down, Beer Spill" in places such as cafes, and I was different from people in society. Looking back on my own youth, I feel increasingly dull about memories without joy.I was obsessed with building my life as early as possible.After the age of twenty, I became a boy, and I never returned home before eleven o'clock in the evening.After returning home, I have to spread out the copybooks for calligraphy practice, and practice pens alone in order to write better.If you can't write well, you are not qualified to be an original editor.Since I was in elementary school, my handwriting performance was not good, so I just got into bed and used my fingers to silently write down the words in the copybook on the quilt.All training is connected with life.The older my parents were, the more restless I was.

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Notes: , "Empty Gate" and so on. In 1947, he won the Nobel Prize for Literature. Wait.