Chapter 28 suffering stream of consciousness

In 1966, a 41-year-old male with no staff in J City I am a person who was torn to shreds--I was taken away on the New Year's Eve--I ate hundreds of flies at most a day--I turned myself into a "○"--an additional qualitative "extreme right" document- -A person lives for another person, sometimes it is very fulfilling--Xanadu--We have suffered so much, do we just say "I'm sorry" because of you? Where do we start?I was lying on the bed last night trying to figure it out for you, but it was okay if I didn’t think about it, and it was all messed up when I thought about it.Why?I'm a man who's been torn to shreds, can't talk anywhere, for no reason, no effect, no reason at all.Let me give you a "stream of consciousness"!Some places may be "inserting the pen upside down", some places are "counting down", and some places may be turned upside down and entangled... Fortunately, you are engaged in literature, so you can always figure it out.If you are confused and confused, don't blame me, I have been messed up all my life, so confused in a pot of paste.Go and check the "XX Daily" on September 1, 1957!There is an article on the headline of the third page, "Another Great Rightist Has Been Spotted", which reflects my humble opinion.Find out, criticize, fight, interrogate, extract confession, you know all about it, so I won't talk about it.Tossing until October, I was sent to F village in the eastern suburbs for labor reform, while waiting for processing.When I feed the pigs, I feel like the pig lying in the mud, just waiting to be taken out and slaughtered someday.

You asked me why I started talking about it in 1957.If I started talking about the Cultural Revolution in 1966, you would have no idea what was going on with me, and you would think, why did I "have no job" at that time? Alas, my facts are so ridiculous! Four months of remodeling. In February 1958, on the 28th day of the twelfth lunar month in the lunar calendar, the higher authorities instructed us to go home for the New Year. I was very happy. This is also a kind of national custom and national sentiment. Go home and have a reunion dinner!Besides, my mother lives in another city, and every Spring Festival my wife and I go to accompany my mother to celebrate the new year. We bought the train tickets for New Year’s Eve with great joy, and for a while even put aside the unresolved rightist affairs, so let’s not think about it.On New Year's Eve, just as I was preparing to leave, suddenly a few people from the Anti-Rightist Working Group of the Cultural Bureau came.Among them was a writer who was no small thing at the time and was the leader of the working group, named B.You must know him.As soon as he entered the door, he read a decision to me, which said, "With the consent of the higher-level party committee and the approval of the public security department, you will be dismissed from public office and sent to GG Farm for reeducation through labor."I was still relatively calm and asked them: "When will I leave?" Writer B was very strict and said to me: "Let's leave now!"

At that time, I wanted to ask them to be more flexible. I was reeducation through labor, not a prisoner, and I couldn’t run away. It doesn’t have to be New Year’s Eve to send me to a labor camp!Before I could speak, Writer B's face was like a closed iron door, cold and ruthless, which scared me back.I said "Let's go!" and picked up the luggage.The luggage was brought back from F Village in the eastern suburbs three days ago, and it hadn't been packed yet. Now it happened to be packed in the original bag and left.It turned out that it was so unlucky to save trouble. You ask me how I was labeled as a rightist?

I would like to ask you, why did you label me as a rightist? I've always thought that other people would know better than I how I ended up on the right. From Da Ming Da to the rectification movement and anti-rightist movement, I was not in the work unit at all.At that time, I took a "creative leave" from my opera school, and stayed at a relative's house in Shanghai to devote myself to writing scripts.Suddenly, my work unit called me and told me to come back quickly and participate in the rectification and anti-rightist movement. I smiled and said to my lover: "The whole big talk is going on, I am not in the work unit, I have never posted a big-character poster, and I have never mentioned it to the leaders. One piece of criticism, no matter what happens this time, it’s none of my business.” Unexpectedly, the meeting was held the next day after returning to the unit, and I was dumbfounded as soon as I entered the venue. Anti-Party Bloc Congress".A is the principal of the opera school, B is the vice-principal, and C is me.I was the head of the business section in charge of teaching at the school.I listened to it again, and the content of my criticism was empty, except for the scary big hat, it was just a stern roar.

Strange, am I guilty?Even if I said a reactionary statement, even if it was made up by you, you still make it clear to me! Let me tell you one more thing, in 1979 -- this jump was twenty-two years later, and this is really a "stream of consciousness".Time is not connected, things are connected.At this time, the Cultural Revolution was over, and the personnel cadres of the Cultural Bureau corrected the rightists for me.He was very surprised and said to me: "To tell you the truth, I read all your materials, and I wondered, how could you be labeled as a rightist based on these materials?"

His astonished expression at that time, together with his bewildered tone, I still remember clearly. He showed me the material bound into a thick volume.Ah, I was stunned, what evidence and crime record is there, it is completely my opinion for some dramas!Artistic opinion! I just ask, "Is there any more?" He said, "It's all here!" How would you feel if it was your turn?If it is said that I have suffered all kinds of hardships in the past twenty-two years, they are not as violent as this blow! For twenty-two years, I have been confused about the reasons why I became a rightist.But looking at it now, the answer is actually this!Not only was I more confused, but for a moment I seemed to know nothing about the world.

How much did I pay for this? Follow up what you just said.My wife rushed to my mother's place on New Year's Eve, and my mother knew a little about my situation.When she heard that I was too busy to spend the New Year with my mother, my mother seemed to understand everything immediately.Dazed, suddenly hugging my wife, the two of them wept bitterly.I haven't seen my mother since then.In the summer of 1960, she was seriously ill, and I was working on the GG farm, so I was not allowed to visit her.It wasn't until my mother passed away that I was asked to go there for two days, but my mother was already dead.

Not allowed to look at the living mother, only allowed to look at the dead mother, which probably counts as a punishment. Happiness does not bring any lessons, but suffering can improve people's character. This is the most positive experience in my life. My real personality is emotional, sensitive, impulsive, and quite fragile; now I have changed, becoming rational, flexible, open-minded, and very restrained.The former is innate and the latter is acquired.For example, the vulnerability mentioned above is that I can't bear setbacks and humiliation. I showed it very strongly, so I committed suicide several times, and I saw it in action.

When I was first classified as a rightist, I was locked in a storage room at the theater school.I had always been a top performer in school, well-connected, and very authoritative, but at this time some children were holding the windows open, looking at me like a monkey, throwing stones into the room, spitting, and insulting me.I couldn't bear it and wanted to die, but the house was empty, and I couldn't even find the small hard piece of the venous tube.I just thought of a way, because the house was dirty, I opened some windows to let the flies fly in, hit the flies again, and then swallowed the dead flies one by one, at most hundreds of dead flies a day, the fly fungus Too much, I think I got cholera and dysentery, and died of diarrhea.But the strange thing is that after eating so many dead flies, there is no movement... To this day, my lover does not know that I have committed suicide like this.You are the first to know.I don't want her to know, because it's a bit tragic.

Another time at ten o'clock in the evening, the writer B sent someone to call me in and ordered me to hand over a document the next day, asking me to confess what "reactionary remarks" I had in my mind.You say this is a bit absurd, "reactionary speech" is not what you say, but what you think.But not only did I never say it, I never thought about it.Don't those who engage in art think about art?Their tricks are really vicious. If they can't get a speech, they ask me to explain my thoughts.Getting ideas is the same as getting words. Writer B also threatened me that if I failed to submit the materials the next day, he would send me to the Public Security Bureau.When I heard this, I was very frightened and felt that I would be even more humiliated if I was arrested, so I decided to commit suicide.

The next day I bought a bottle of liquor and went to the canal behind S Park, where it was desolate.I am drunk with just one sip of wine. If I drink the whole bottle down, I will definitely be dizzy, and I will plunge into the river.So he poured a bottle of wine into his stomach by the river.This time was also very strange, probably Lord Yan still refused to accept me, after drinking a bottle of wine, not only did I not feel drunk, but instead became more sober, I shook my head vigorously, and the more I shook my head, the more I understood.At this time, I saw two or three people not far away paying attention to me. I thought that I would not succeed in committing suicide. Not afraid of death, but afraid of living, this is the absurdity of that era. I have changed since this suicide attempt. When I got home that day, as soon as I opened the door, I saw Writer B and a group of people waiting for me.Seeing me, I asked aggressively, what did you do?Where does the taste of alcohol come from?Where are the confession materials?I didn't even think that I would shout at him: "I don't have any reactionary remarks, so you can do whatever you like!" This cry shocked Writer B, and also my wife and myself. .How could I be so bold?Afterwards, my lover said that my voice was surprisingly loud, even louder than that of writer B.Maybe it was the indulgence of the alcohol, maybe it was because I had just returned from death and I was a different person. In the GG farm, there is a chemistry student from NK University, a short and frail female student.She is also classified as a rightist.He hardly speaks at ordinary times, and is in charge of testing in the laboratory on the farm.I ate potassium cyanide one day, and it was over in one go.No one knew why she committed suicide suddenly, and no suicide note was left behind.Farms usually just say "I can't think about it" when dealing with this kind of matter.However, this female student’s friend in distress told me quietly that recently she kept saying one thing in private: “I can no longer endure insults to my personality.” No one knows exactly what she was referring to.But I understand that she is just like me in the past, too fragile and too self-respecting; she still doesn't know that in the face of this kind of suffering, people can only let go of everything and turn themselves into a "○" to survive .If you still think of yourself as a human being, it will be very painful, and you will not even be able to live. To be honest, I can bear this kind of pariah life, but also for my lover.She is six years older than me, and we have no children.She comes from a good family and has always been a training target for the organization.After I became a rightist, everyone advised her to abandon me and marry another.But she paid no attention to it. For many years, she has only relied on her tens of dollars to support my parents and subsidize me. All complaints and complaints are gone.Every other week is the day when GG Farm allows visits.She prepared food and clothes for me the day before, got up at 3:00 the next morning, took a ride at dawn, arrived at M Village at 10:00, walked another 30 miles, and arrived at GG Farm in the afternoon.Just to hold on to a total of 20 minutes of meeting.We met in a large cylindrical room with a long row of low tables in the middle, with visitors on one side and us on the other.When we met, she couldn't say a few words, so she took my torn and dirty clothes away, walked another 30 miles, caught the bus, and returned home at night.On windy, rainy, icy and snowy days, looking at the back of this poor woman walking silently, I couldn't have any other thoughts.There is only one sentence in my heart: don't worry, I live for you!One person lives for another, and sometimes it is very fulfilling. Curiosity is an instinct of intellectuals.My habit since I was a child is to reflect on the knowledge I have acquired every night to see if I have new knowledge in all aspects. "I examine myself three times a day"!Sometimes I find that I have nothing to gain today, so I turn over in panic and look for a book to read. If I gain something, I fall down and sleep again. But when I got to the farm, it didn't work.There are regulations here that prisoners cannot exchange ideas, borrow money, complain, or even tell stories.Ordinary prisoners don't feel particularly uncomfortable, but I think the most terrifying thing in the world is the blankness, the spiritual blankness. I changed the way, every night, close my eyes, and reflect on what I encountered that day, as a rare life experience, instead of the knowledge in books, and regard these as wealth gains in disguise.Of course, doing this sometimes feels empty.Once, I got an unexpected harvest, which made a lot of changes in my spiritual life. In order to strengthen political propaganda and ideological education, GG Farm knew that I knew opera, and asked me to organize some reform-through-labour prisoners with a little knowledge of literature and art to compose small operas.In order to write a good play, I was given a worn-out "Xinhua Dictionary" with the cover off.I asked the correctional staff, "Can I read this dictionary?" He said, "This is fine!" Oh my god, I have something to do.Whenever I have time every day, I pick up this dictionary and read it, word by word, page by page, from beginning to end, I read it once and a half in six years. The appendix at the back of the "Xinhua Dictionary" also contains various knowledge of history, geography, and science. I just recited it and memorized it fluently. Good guy, it's like an encyclopedia!How learned would it be to have a dictionary in your stomach?Is this a blessing in disguise? If I hadn't been locked up and forbidden to read all other books, how could I have memorized dictionaries at all costs?But when I told people about it after I came out, my friends laughed and said, "What kind of knowledge is this!" Sure enough, there are not many things that can be used later. Get it clean.At this time, I felt that I was completely abandoned. In the GG farm, the reeducation through labor personnel said to me: "Why is your director of the Cultural Bureau so hard on you? You have been here for more than a year, and you have been dismissed from public office. It stands to reason that you have nothing to do with the Cultural Bureau. Why did your director personally Sign and send a follow-up material, designating you as 'extreme right'?" This makes me very strange.Our chief is a well-known writer, and he is A.I am a business person in the art school under his leadership, and my status is very different.Although he is a bit bureaucratic, every time I see him, he treats me very kindly and seems to appreciate him very much. Why on earth did he put me to death instead of throwing stones at me? In 1963, when my period of reeducation through labor expired, GG Farm wanted to send me back to the Cultural Bureau, but the Cultural Bureau refused to accept me.The farm forcefully sent my file to the Cultural Bureau, and gave me a residence permit, telling me to report to the police station in the street where I lived.But when I reported to the Cultural Bureau, they said, first, I am an extreme rightist and should go back to the farm; second, they did not see my file.As soon as I heard it, I became anxious, and went to find the file, forcing the farm, the street, the police station, and the Public Security Bureau to say that I hadn't seen it.Without files, it is impossible to arrange work and find a job, and there will be no income in life.From then until 1979, I had no job for a total of 16 years. I was an inexplicable vagrant, supported by my wife, and had nothing to do all day long.Yes, I just said it - when the rightists were corrected in 1979, the Cultural Bureau suddenly took out my files.What do you think is going on?Of course, I will tell you.Hey, can you understand what I say here and there? Don't think I don't have a file, so I can't arrange my work and life; but when the Cultural Revolution came, the "Ten Kinds of People Study Class" didn't need a file, so I was immediately admitted.The study class did not study, but was criticized, fought, scolded, and beaten every day. But my situation is a little exception. One is that they think I am an old rightist, a "dead tiger", and I don't have much oil and water. They just ask me to stand aside and "accompany the fight" when fighting capitalists and current counter-revolutionaries.The second is that my experience of being a pariah in the past few years since the anti-rightist movement has made me very experienced in dealing with these things.I pretended to be extremely honest, and never stimulated their interest in struggle. I had to grasp the fire, not too diligent, too active, too active, nor too indifferent, too passive, or too dismissive; The pretense of "pressure" can't make people "beat the drums and beat people up", this is more difficult to grasp than acting.All the skills developed in GG Farm in those years are used here.Like a skilled chef, I put myself in the pot and fry, neither "raw" nor "paste".I still have two advantages. One is that I am educated and can write with a brush. I write all the slogans of the neighborhood committees. The other is that I have a broken bicycle that can be used by the Red Guards. , I fix it and they ride again.Don't laugh, at that time, as long as you asked me to do something, I would be grateful, but now I have a chance to curry favor with them. Beating people in the study class was very fierce, and the Red Guards were very emotional, and they beat whoever they liked.I'm probably the only one who hasn't been beaten.I'm really grateful for my life as a pariah at GG Farm!This is called "learning the ability to deal with suffering while suffering", and in the words of Chairman Mao, it means "learning war while fighting." Recently I read in the newspaper that a young man asked us rightists: "Why didn't you stand up and resist them?" A diaper! It is a little worrying to blame the victims instead of the despots.In the past two years, I no longer worried about the possibility of another Cultural Revolution in China, but not now.Model operas are being sung again, Chairman Mao is revered as a god again, and the author of "The Golden Avenue" wants to "seek justice"... When history is straight and straight, there is a possibility of going back and repeating it.Otherwise, what are you doing writing this book? Throughout the Cultural Revolution, I was like a toy.When people are interested, that is, when they are playing sports, they play with me; In 1969, preparations for war against the Soviet Union were clamored for, and there was a large evacuation.The Street Shield Committee wants to send me to my hometown in Anhui. In fact, they have taken a fancy to my house. They want it and want to divide it.But our family has already left Anhui two generations ago, and there is no way to go back to our hometown.They thought of a way to send my wife to Z village in the western suburbs under the pretext of "decentralization of cadres", and I was regarded as a family member. I have the foundation to work on the GG farm, and the work is not strenuous; it is easier to do sports in the countryside, and I am much more comfortable.I often lie on the kang of the farm and read idle books. There are chickens crowing and pigs humming outside the door, and birds singing and cicadas singing in front of the window.Am I not also Tao Yuanming?Actually lived a short period of pastoral life!If so, a lifetime worth mentioning. You said, is this really the ideal state of an intellectual? In 1973, I made a fuss about delegating cadres to return to the city, and my family moved back. Because I was an "ultra-right" rightist, it took me a lot of trouble to apply for my household registration;Life depends on a lover, alas, what kind of man is he, who lives on his wife for half his life without being disabled or useless.After years of tossing and tossing, the family was impoverished.Originally, there were few things and many books at home.In 1968, the ancient books in the Thirteenth Cabinet were confiscated by the Red Guards and piled up in the basement of the school.These books are all my father's treasures, not to mention rare and rare books, and there are too many precious inscriptions.The basement is very damp and the books are rotten; moreover, the basement is next to the toilet, and the paper of ancient books is soft, so the students come in and tear a stack of toilet paper when they go to the toilet.The books are all ruined!What "disgraceful"?Where would the Cultural Revolution be if there were gentleness?What is Sven?Is it five thousand years of civilization?Why don't you think about it, why did a country with a civilization of 5,000 years lay such a barbaric and absurd egg like the Cultural Revolution? The days before the end of the Cultural Revolution were the hardest. It felt like the Cultural Revolution would go on forever. Didn’t it mean that the darkness before dawn is the darkest and longest? At that time Deng Xiaoping came back, and the CPPCC began to resume some work on literature and history.Knowing about my situation, the CPPCC asked me to help, search for information, copy and write, run errands, and deliver a letter. I was paid 20 yuan a month.One day, while riding a bicycle to deliver a letter, I saw the sign of Xinhua Bookstore, and suddenly thought that in 1949, Shanghai Sanlian Bookstore recruited people. Three or four thousand people applied for the exam, and I got the first place in the exam.And because of my excellent work, I was transferred to the head office of Sanlian Bookstore in Beijing. Later, when the three anti-five anti-five evils were launched, all the old teachers at Yenching University were turned away, and I was recommended by Sanlian Bookstore to teach at Yenching University.He was only twenty-six years old then!Who was not smug and ambitious when he was young.But then some of them stopped because they were shallow and weak;Although the Anti-Rightist Movement is a disaster, others are easy to raise opinions and bring disasters out of their mouths; or actively participate in it, throwing stones at their own feet, asking for trouble; but I... I have nothing to do with it at all. No big-character poster was posted, no word of criticism was said, who grabbed me, threw me into the well, threw a stone, and put the lid on again, who made me so miserable and killed my lover It was so miserable, but I was kept in the dark.After thinking about it, I couldn't ride the car anymore, so I leaned the car against the side of the road, sat down, covered my face and cried. You are a sensible person, now I want to ask you a question.I thought about this question for a long time, and I thought it might be the root of my tragedy, but I was afraid that I would be too subjective and let my imagination run amok, and I might wrong others, so I kept feeling bored in my stomach.Today, please analyze it for me and make a judgment for me. Let me put it simply and clearly-- At that time, the principal of our drama school was A, who was also a member of the party group of the Cultural Bureau. The director of the cultural bureau was writer A, who was also the deputy secretary of the party group of the Cultural Bureau.Principal A is talented and speaks sharply and harshly. Writer A is afraid of Principal A, and even more worried that this powerful opponent will compete with him for power, so he puts Principal A to death by counter-rightist action.In order to intensify the crackdown, he, me and another vice principal were forced into an anti-party group.I don't have any right-wing remarks, and I can't make anything up, so I take my opinions on art as anti-Party material, and in order to completely defeat Principal A, so that he will never recover, he throws stones at me and adds another "" The crime of "extreme right"... Don't just look at me, is my analysis right?Tell me, or you can just nod or shake your head... Alas!In fact, nodding or shaking your head is of no use, and things cannot be changed. Twenty-two years of bitterness and bitterness have passed away, and I will be seventy years old this year... Sometimes I hope to get to the bottom of everything, and I will die clearly, as long as I know who stabbed me; but sometimes, I am very afraid of the truth, if it is as I guessed, I will not be Is someone a poor victim of power struggle?People only have one life, so my life is just a stone thrown into the puddle during a fight?Why am I so miserable?Thinking of this, I really want to commit suicide again! 1979, alas, why did I mention 1979 again?Totally messed up. At that time, I was busy implementing policies for myself, and I happened to meet writer A on the road. Although writer A was so powerful during the anti-rightist movement, his family was ruined during the Cultural Revolution.Sick and disabled, he is basking in the sun on the side of the road with a cane.He saw me and raised his hand to greet me.I stopped my bike and went over.We haven't seen each other for over ten years.He lost all the spirit he had in the past, and was already a weak and helpless old man. He asked me, "How are you doing now?" I said I was working on implementing the policy. He asked me if I needed help. I shook my head, thinking that he also needs help now. He pondered for a while, and suddenly said to me very sincerely: "I'm sorry for you." I shook my head again and said, "This is all in the past, don't forget about it." I bid farewell and left. He stopped me again, and said more sincerely, "I'm very, very sorry." What does this tell me? Not long ago, Writer B also asked someone to bring me a letter, saying that he was embarrassed to see me, but he wanted to say to me: "I'm sorry!" The person who brought the letter said that Writer B also emphasized that he was very serious. To tell you the truth, when I heard this sincere and heartfelt apology, my heart went up and I was really touched.People who engage in art!I always love to be moved and let be blinded by it, but when I calmed down and looked at my lover who was nearly eighty years old, suffered a lot of hardships, and had already turned gray hair, I suddenly wanted to say to them angrily: "Can you say 'I'm sorry' to end our twenty-two years?" In other words: "Could it be that our 22 years of suffering are all because of your 'I'm sorry'?" God never said that repentance can wash away sins.