Chapter 75 Bei Piao Wen Qing Hu Jiu Jiu's writing Jiang Shan

Bei Piao Wen Qing Hu Jiu Jiu's writing Jiang Shan Feng Tang As a native of Beijing, I love Beijing so unreasonably, so much that I snot and cry.The notorious sandstorm came. I dragged a few foreigners and walked on Chang'an Avenue. I said, "I haven't seen it before. You don't need to go to Mars. Today is Mars." Cities always compete. Hong Kong people say that they have laws and systems, and they have financial markets and international information.People in Shanghai say that they have convenience stores and Jinmao Hyatt, they have the oldest colonial experience and a pragmatic local government.The natives of Beijing say that we have the Forbidden City, the Great Wall, heaven and earth, and we have the "Northern Drifters" with flocks of orioles flying around.Like the hairy crabs that are listed on the market every year and the catkins flying as scheduled, every year, batches of "Beipiao" boys bring disturbing talents and strengths, and batches of "Beipiao" girls bring faces and emotions that disturb human nature. breast.Hong Kong is expensive due to natural disasters and man-made disasters. It costs 20 yuan to eat six small stuffed dumplings in the worst restaurant. "Xinmin Evening News" is full of how to improve one's job skills, and then increase one's salary. People who drift in Shanghai have no taste.

Hu Jiujiu is the representative of Beijing Wenqing. The first time I saw him was in a tea house, with thick glasses and a thin figure.There were several other young men and girls in their twenties sitting with them. Hu Jiujiu said, "Eat hard, this teahouse is self-service, and you don't have to eat for nothing." I often imagine the scene when Hu Jiujiu first came to Beijing, and I feel my heart beating, and the genes of the Hu people are "sizzling" in my blood vessels: leave Jiangdong's parents behind, leave the girl who took his virginity behind, come Arriving in Beijing, no relationship, no job, no savings, a suitcase, three pairs of underwear, three pairs of socks, a manuscript, a temperament, half a dozen condoms desire, and here we come.Then I thought of Shen Congwen. When I got off the train, I looked up and saw the building at the front door. I heard the whistle of the pigeon. I'm here, I saw it, and I'm all settled.

Among the essays written by Qing Hu Jiujiu, a Beijing drifter, a large category reflects a Beijing drifter’s intimate feelings about Beijing: "After graduating from university, my trajectory is very clear. I have been going north and fled after working as a doctor in a county in Henan for two months. The subjective reason is that I cannot bear the hardship. I told my companions that I am still suitable for living in the city, because I still have desires. So I arrived in Beijing with 200 yuan in my pocket, and was cheated by a woman at the train station, who lied that she was a health school teacher, lost her wallet and asked me to send a fax to the work unit.”

"Many times, I can imagine myself as a cockroach, poking my head around the big city of Beijing, resting at sunrise and working at sunset, looking up at the starry sky above me and at the city at the same time. I just hope Don't be suffocated to death by a piss, and don't be crippled by someone's finger. This is my way, and it is also the peace I hope for." "Chang'an Avenue is one branch of chopsticks, and Ping'an Avenue is the other branch of chopsticks. They attack from north to south, and jointly set up the big dish of the Forbidden City. The beautiful and delicious Houhai is the soup and water outside of Ping'an Avenue, waiting for people to come. Or walk away."

The gist of these texts is simple: come to Beijing, where there is a lot of money, people are stupid, and they are awesome.The writing feels sharp and sharp, and those wrists who go to bars and take medicine in Beijing can't match it. They will never even think about it in this life. They have already been abolished by Beijing. Among the essays written by Bei Piao Wen Qing Hu Jiu, another category reflects a Bei Piao's memory of Jiangdong and the girl who robbed him of his virginity in Jiangdong: "In the summer of 1989, I saw a lot of scenes on TV. For me in the small town, it was a farce. And I, holding a broken rough porcelain bowl, in the I can’t tell whether it’s declining or thriving. I watch a 19-inch black and white TV while eating. Several hens are watching at my feet. Later, they are unfortunately eating the white plastic I feed them Died of abdominal distension after foaming. There are still several cousins ​​in the main room. Like the door panel, it is crumbling under the turning of the cousins. This is their game. When they are noisy, the whole noon is very quiet. If their laughter covers the sound of the TV, the attic outside the hall The white doves would flap their wings and fly over the courtyard, and would not come back until the sunset glowed my face."

"At this time, she, my first girlfriend, would stare at the distance, talking about something. But I ignored the distance, I only knew to look at her enthusiastically, from the side Looking at her eyelashes, looking at the fine hair on her lips, I mobilized the power of the drake in my throat, and sang Cui Jian's "Nothing". From her bosom a hand shaking a silver bell." These characters, which cannot be grown locally in Beijing, enrich our Chinese with original power and imagery. The second time I met him, I treated him to a Korean BBQ at Sarabel in Lufthansa. Seeing someone who was thinner than me, I ordered an extra serving of hot pot noodles. "Eat more. Always get fatter, otherwise how will you support the text?" "I have a girlfriend who is living together illegally and feeds me according to the recipe. I also have a mother who came to take care of me recently."

One of Hu Jiujiu's old leaders taught him the principles of life: "If you work as an editor here, the manuscript of the monthly magazine will be compiled in half a month, and the rest of the time will be to write novels and be a writer." I also want to tell him , Write more, occupy the right to speak, and become Yan Jun, Xu Zhiyuan and Xie Youshun. I raised my head, and I saw, far away, Hu Jiujiu's writing Jiangshan, half of the sun climbing up.