Chapter 2 According to the preface, he was so pure in the past, and he is still so pure now.

It's a pseudonym.Han, Song, Luo, three Chinese characters, arranged in this order.From rising to falling, the tone forms a specific rhythm; from regular buildings to changing directions, the strokes have their own visual style; The meaning of "Luo" extracts hints from our language system; while in the middle, the "pine" that connects the two ends, the finals extend far away, stable and inclusive. I don't know how he came up with such a nice name.It's a writer's instinct.Language, like blood, is awakened at certain moments and goes where it should.And he, from then on, only belonged to himself, hiding behind the window, watching "Han Songluo" dress up, dance, talk, and exchange love and forgetting with others.For example: "This is a young writer, a native of Hunan, born in Xinjiang, working as a road maintenance worker in the suburbs of Lanzhou, and then becoming a trade union cadre. He used to lead a double life, and now lives in seclusion in a small town and by the sea." For example: "He More obsessed with warmth than anyone else, sometimes creepy; ah, he writes about doom with a smile..." He created "Han Songluo", and we clearly know that he is not there.

It's not popular yet, and sometimes I think that those columns have delayed his career.Otherwise, he should rely on a few novels to shock the world, or at least fight for a name.Those words would be banned, or deleted, but would also be more powerful - if not more poisonous.It's not content that's toxic, and of course, it never was.His words look delicate, but more precisely, his eyes are poisonous and his heart is calm.He hides behind the window, looking at the ends of passers-by's hair, the dust sticking to it, the nightmare of last night, the smell of blood and soy sauce in the dream, the pulse in the depth of the breath, the lingering hope... People with poisonous eyes usually calm their minds, because they are with them There is a distance in the world.And those who are calm, as we all know, actually hide a sea of ​​turbulent clouds and rain.

So he is good at writing that kind of column, starting from the headlines of the evening paper, every common story hides a thrilling human nature or a cruel and absurd fate behind it.Then there are his favorite TV, movies, songs (he said "songs", not "music") and their authors, which are usually familiar to everyone, not small, from Xi Murong to Mo Wenwei.He wrote these people like the characters in his own novels, and he knew them well, both ordinary and brilliant, or he made them ordinary and discovered their splendor.However, in his novels, there are few visible "persons", only characters, which carry the author's passion.That passion always seeps into the texture of the language along the details, and when the language breaks out, it is out of control.He hasn't published many novels, but you can read his "Black Fairy Tales" on Douban.In Xichuan's words, if the text is clean, then there is no dirty poetry.The clean text of Han Songluo's dark fairy tales can be said to be a very clear and beautiful evil text, which is so delicate that it violates the tolerance limit of people's daily feelings, and is darker than the stories he wrote.

There is no need to compare with Sade, at least, he is not as talkative as the Marquis.He has hidden Han Songluo through those trivial columns that are quickly consumed, so that he can grow up quietly. This is the literary patience that Sade believers lack...One day I saw his current photo, A clean checkered shirt, a face that is no longer dazzling but still sunny, it is not really a scholar in a small town (geographical edge), but the style of another era (temporal remoteness).He kept a distance in time from us.That's when I understood that he had found his clothes.It is no longer to shock the world, but to write what he wants to write humbly, and you will be surprised at how ordinary he shows.

Next to trivial text about reality.He writes about sin with humility and boldness.That is a special sin.It hurts, addicts, doubts, generates power and passion, and is content with its inner order and beauty, never losing sleep.Because that was also accomplished by Han Songluo, a reality experienced through language.He let Han Songluo understand this.He created Han Songluo and took pleasure in it. Another day, I heard his song.He loves the most ordinary and beautiful melodies. He sang the songs he wrote many years ago, but few people heard them. Now he asked a friend to re-record them.The popular orchestration, the more cheesy, the fatter the fatter, the thinner, the reverse of time and space, took me back to the nightclubs of the 90s and the radios of the 80s that he was fascinated by.It seems that this must be done in order to hear the person behind the singing—the singing is filled with light, occasionally with a hint of innocent obscenity, but also melted in grand joy.

See, he was so pure, and he still is.