Chapter 51 article like wine
Two days before the Spring Festival, I received a letter from Lun Guo Bookseller V. S． Pritchett's new anthology A Man of Lettrs, I read it under the lamp, full of joy.In recent years, I love to read Pritchett's writing. The short stories are mellow and beautiful, and the prose sketches are even more learned, knowledgeable and affectionate. This time I read the preface of his book, and I am particularly fascinated.He lamented that the "literati" in the British and American literary traditions were deeply respected in the past, but the current world has changed, and the real pen and ink of the literati are slowly fading, leaving only the last few to meet the occasion.Most of them have no popular readers, don't teach, and can't be regarded as scholars. They just write articles for some newspapers that survived their closure.These people don't make any commentary, but instead devote themselves to maintaining the cultural value of contemplation.When the dogma of imaging technology dominates the world, it is inevitable to be extra concerned about the fate of words, and believe in Dostoyevsky's saying that "life without art is a waste of time".Traditional literati can't rest on their own, and often write dozens of pages in monthly and quarterly magazines; today's literati are so rich that their thoughts and feelings can only be combined into a few columns of text, which is too long for others: In the early days of World War II, British paper was rationed , a periodical asked Pritchett to write an article to introduce popular books, which was only 1,850 characters, but in the end, 50 characters were deleted.With such a chance, literati have to rely on allusions to practice the gu, and pay attention to simplicity; after decades of training, the articles become shorter and shorter, and finally become a style!
It is not difficult for me to understand Pritchett's state of mind, and after reading it, the whole Spring Festival has been very peaceful.On the fifth day of the lunar new year, I unexpectedly received "Autumn Sun Like Wine" from New York by Liu Daren, and that joy filled my heart.I like Liu Daren's pocket novels very much. When he sent me the first "Red Crane Top" a year ago for publication, I read it again and again, and felt that the novels were written so concisely and profoundly that they could really be served as poems. No wonder Yang Mu pointed out that "Liu Daren's poems outlined the plot of the novel back then, but now his novels fulfill the promise of poetry for us".Da Ren said that he could not bear the fat belly of bureaucrats and the heavy waist of women, as well as the half-baked "epoch-making" style and self-righteous eloquence, so he did not hesitate to cut, delete, reduce, and shrink when writing; it is a wonderful metaphor.
I love to read Pritchett and Liu Daren, simply because they are literati who can really shine a little spark of wisdom in a stupid era.Rough and superficial articles are the norm nowadays, but reading these dense and timeless works finally reminds me of the old man in the nave of the London Law Society who took care of the 102 gas lamps every morning and evening.It is said that there are 1,400 gas street lamps in the city of London, most of which are equipped with time controllers to automatically burn out, only the 102 lamps in the hall of the Law Society are lit one by one by the old man before dark and dawn. Afterwards, the lamps were turned off one by one, and each round took an hour and a half.The times are so new, and the methods are so old, I think it's just for the occasion: Literati like Liu Daren are finally lonely, it's shocking to say it!
February 1986