Chapter 3 "Things of the Past" "Cultural Revolution" shame "Cultural Revolution" shame

Shame on the "Cultural Revolution" Shame on the "Cultural Revolution" (1) Over the years there is always something in my heart, I don't know how to deal with it.Recently, when I read "Six Records of Cadre Schools", Mr. Qian Zhongshu said in the preface of the book that if he wrote memories of that movement (of course referring to the "Cultural Revolution"), the general public would probably have to write "Remembering Shame".This word has touched that matter in my heart.But Mr. Qian didn't finish, and continued to write: "Shame often makes people forgetful, and things that are guilty and shameful are always things that you don't want to remember, so it is easy to pass through the sieve of memory." I think , the time has come to record that event in black and white, lest the years should lose it.In this way, it also happened to have a title.

In the summer of 1974, my legs had been paralyzed for two years, and I had nothing to do at home.Old friends are afraid that I will be lonely and often come to see me, bringing books, news, and new friends.Friends of friends can easily become friends, and they can talk about everything together, even though their judgments on the current situation are not all the same, and their views on various doctrines and ideas can no longer be completely consistent.I was twenty-three years old that year, and I just realized one thing: for any erroneous or even reactionary things, you must first dare to face them squarely, avoiding them and covering them up is a sign of incompetence and wrongdoing.In addition to this point, it can be recorded as a record now that I think about it.

First friend A brings friend B.Soon, B brought me three novels in manuscript.The only one that remembers the title now is "Ordinary People".Classified by today's standards, it should belong to "scar literature", it should be said that it is the earliest "scar literature" in China.I was very shocked after watching it, and I was speechless for a long time, and then I really believed that its artistic level was very high and its thinking was too reactionary.Such a method of judging works of art was very popular at that time, but it is less common now. B disagrees with me, but the theoretical basis I can find is more than his, and it is more powerful than his ready-made.

"The theory of middle characters", "writing about the dark side", "snot and feces are always there", "class positions" and "the trend of the times", etc., are enough to make B speechless or have nothing to say. Moreover.I don’t think I’m a follower of others, I’ve read quite a lot of Marxist-Leninist books, and I’m naturally witty when it comes to debating, and I can find more smooth reasons for those dry concepts, and sometimes let B fall into meditation.Now I know that finding reasons for a given conclusion is something that can be done anyway. B is a very generous person, and he just laughed at the end, and then asked me if I could make a few copies of these novels.I also showed open-mindedness, calmed the swollen blood vessels on my forehead and neck, and said, what's wrong with it? First, I have a lot of free time anyway, and second, I believe that truth is always truth, and I won't become truth because of the existence of such novels Yes, what exists is not to let everyone see it is weak or wronged.It never occurred to us for a moment that there are public security bureaus in this world.

I spent a few mornings copying those novels for him.When I copied one or two articles, I suddenly couldn’t continue copying. The words that came out of my pen were too contrary to my ideas. The more I copied, the more awkward I felt, and I felt as if I was writing that novel.Startled, stop for a while, remind yourself.I didn't write this, I just copied it, and I promised my friend how could I not finish it? So I copied it again, so I was awkward and frightened, so I reminded myself again, so... finally I didn't finish copying it, I Write to B and tell the truth why I don't want to copy it anymore. When B came, he smiled as soon as he entered the door, still smiling generously, saying that it was fine, and he would think of other ways to do the rest.I gave him both the copied and uncopied ones.

It didn't take long before something went wrong. B stored the manuscript at A, and friend C took the "Ordinary People" from A to school to read, and was discovered by one of her classmates and reported to the relevant department. C was immediately interrogated in isolation, and the manuscript also fell into the hands of the public security officers.We heard about it, and we were just worried about C at first. A few friends discussed how to save her and how to exonerate her.After much deliberation, not only could I not think of how to save C, but I remembered that the manuscript was full of my handwriting.At this time, before I felt the seriousness of the consequences, I acted unresolutely as a hero for a while, and I said that I simply copied it from a patient who had forgotten his name when I was in the hospital.A few friends said it was not good, saying that the Public Security Bureau was not so stupid; so I did not insist.A few friends said not to worry, wait for A and B to see if there is a better way.Of course, the best way is for the catastrophe in front of you to disappear like a dream.

In the evening, both A and B came, and four or five of us gathered in the barren grove of Ditan Park to continue discussing countermeasures.Only A and B and I are involved in this matter, and everyone else is here to make suggestions.At this time, the focus of the question has shifted to what to do if the Public Security Bureau traces it down? Because I think that there may be other handwriting left in C, because I may not be able to hold on to C.It is said that at this time C was still in the isolation room of the school and insisted on refusing to confess. Everyone worried about her for a while, and blamed her for showing off and being too credulous to people no matter what she did.It's too late to blame C, who is in the isolation room.Everyone complained to A again, saying that C has always been sloppy, don’t you know, why did you send her the manuscript to school? A regretted it too much, saying that C was desperate to make sure and promised.It's useless to blame anyone, the most urgent thing is to think about how to deal with the possible investigation by the police. B firmly said that no matter what, the original author must not be named.Everyone said it was certain.So, what should the Public Security Bureau do after they track it down? Everyone racked their brains to make up many full-fledged lies, but in the end they are not people who are used to making up lies, and they can see many flaws by themselves.The night silently spread far and wide in front of this question.That’s how the first night ended—I didn’t think of anything, I prayed silently that C would persevere to the end, but if it was true, I felt extremely sorry for C; I imagined that the Public Security Bureau would not investigate further, but I knew it would be wrong fantasy.

Fourteen years have passed, and I can no longer remember exactly how many days it was between my work and the time when the police came to find me, nor can I remember the sequence of events during these days.I just remember that we gathered at the Temple of Earth to discuss several times.I just remember that I became more and more timid every time.I remember one night, still in that barren grove, A and B both thought that the lie I made up at the beginning was the most ingenious, and if the police found me based on the handwriting, I would stick to that lie—that is, it was I copied that novel from an unknown patient friend when I was hospitalized.I didn't say yes or no, and after a while I just reminded: My parents were born in the first of the five black classes, and my grandma is still sweeping the streets every day as a landlord.Everyone was silent for a long time.I also wanted to say that it is unfair for me to bear the burden, because I am the only one who opposes this novel. How can a person sacrifice his own anti-belief? But I didn’t say it.Later, A said this meaning for me, and for many years later, I have always kept this logic as a shelter for my conscience and firmly remembered it.But as the years passed, this logic became more and more pale. First, because I became more and more aware that I was mainly scared at the time, and second, my belief at the time was that I was against this novel and not against copying it.What about beliefs? What if I agreed with the novel at the time? Would I dare to take this matter down and refuse to explain it? I estimate that 90% of the time I still dare not.Because I still remember that someone said to me in those days: The Public Security Bureau is not a vegetarian, if I can’t tell the name of the person who gave me the original manuscript of the novel, they can judge that the novel was written by me——

Shame on the "Cultural Revolution" Shame on the "Cultural Revolution" (2) Regardless of whether they really think so, or because they want to intimidate me, or because they must have a result so that they can explain to their superiors, they will do it anyway when they are in a hurry.I heard that it was true that my body was sweating several times in turn.Especially when I see my parents and relatives, I don’t know what kind of trouble they will suffer when I think of their background and background.Lying in bed at night, unable to sleep, just smoking, experiencing the difficulties of some traitors.Some traitors are greedy for glory and wealth, and some traitors are persecuted by the "nine clans". Now, in all fairness, they are both traitors but they seem to be different.This brings me to another question, what if I was alone? Ease would be easier, but it's still not something to brag about daring to be whipped or headed off.There is still a big difference between being greedy for life and fearing death and being greedy for glory and wealth.A few years later, I did have a few times when I was really not afraid of death. I thought how good it would be to move what happened in 1974 to the present, so that I could stand up and die without hesitation, but these few times I was not afraid of death. It was because of my disability that I first had the idea of ​​not wanting to live, and then I wanted to be a martyr by the way.This is of course ridiculous.Only then did I know that the desire to live can be more commendable than not being afraid of death.But the desire to live and the fear of death have created many traitors who have been scolded through the ages.The best, of course, is to desire to live without fear of death, such as Xu Yunfeng.However, after all, what Xu Yunfeng shouted was Long Live the Communist Party and he was clearly imprisoned by the Kuomintang.Zhang Zhixin is even more wise and brave.But if Zhang Zhixin had been steadfast in a thought that everyone must believe in at that time, she would not have been so wise and courageous.The words are far away, but if you pull them back, you still say that I am not as good as Zhang Zhixin. It is indisputable.As for the loyalty of buddies? But "Zhulian Jiuzu" is even more harmful to relatives! So "Zhulian Jiuzu" has a reason to be invented.

I originally wanted to record this incident truthfully, but some of the guilt and embarrassment have indeed leaked through the sieve of memory. I stopped writing here and tried my best to recall it for two days. The following things are still in my memory. There are two appearances.I haven't seen B for many years, so it seems unnecessary to check with him for this article, so let's write down both memories.The most probable thing is this: just as I was restless day and night and could not think of a good solution, B came, and B said to me: "If you are tracked down, tell the truth. Just say that I gave you the original manuscript." I heard Although Liao didn't explicitly express his approval, he didn't say a word of disapproval. Although the anxiety was still shrouded, the secret part of his heart felt relaxed for a while.For a long time, I just said: "Then what should you do?" B said: "I will bear this matter alone." I have to bear the burden in my life, but I still dare not have any other choices, and I still feel like I have been rescued.Secondly, it may also be like this: B came and said to me: "If the police come to you, you can tell the truth, just say that I gave you the manuscript. C has already said everything." I felt relieved for a while. C really couldn't stand the pressure on the third day of isolation, and he said everything.But was this what B told me, or did I hear it from others later on? I hope it is the former, but I hope it can prove to be the latter, because more embarrassing things are easily leaked through the sieve of memory, It is also easy to walk into things that protect yourself from condemnation.I never condemned C, and I didn’t pay special attention not to condemn C, presumably because my subconscious told myself the truth: In fact, I am no different from C.In short, no matter which memory is accurate, the relief in my heart after listening to B's words can explain everything. ——This is important to record.

Later the police came to me and asked me who gave me the original manuscript, I said it was B; asked me who the original author was, I said I didn't know.I really don't know, B never told me who the original author is, and B is thoughtful at this level.At that time, I was very thankful that B had thought through this layer.Until now I don't know who the original author is. I also started writing fiction in 1978, and I also wrote works that can be classified as "scar literature".In those years, I often paid attention to the novels and author introductions in newspapers and periodicals, and wanted to know who the author of "Ordinary People" was, but I never found out.I also asked my friends in the literary world, and many of them knew about the novel, but no one knew about the author. When I met B while traveling in Laoshan in 1983, we were still a little unnatural when we talked and laughed with each other. I couldn’t ask him about it, because I didn’t know how it ended that year, and I was afraid that it would add weight to my heart.Now that I think about it, it would be a pity in the history of literature if that "Ordinary People" was gradually forgotten. As you remember, remember, I really hope that you haven't leaked too much guilt.