Tokyo: The life of a literary giant begins with home self-defense!

Chapter 91: Xiu Zen Temple Beheading Buddha 8
"Golden Pavilion?"

Ying Sili, like everyone else, got a copy of the manuscript, scratched his head and sighed.

"That's it again."

There is basically no room for other literature in the current Japanese literary world.

Class literature is dominant, and the ideal of protecting the country and stabilizing life is too lofty.

The current class literature is almost equivalent to the 'Nanto Hokurei' of the Heian period, the true meaning of Zhenguo.

The difference is that at that time the Shingon sect stood on the side of the powerful and the noble class, but now it stands among the general public.

This is related to social development and the withdrawal of the powerful class from the stage of history.

Ying Sili picked up "The Temple of the Golden Pavilion" written by Ryukawa Toru and started reading.

If one does not want to be suppressed by people like Gong Chengyi Taro, one must write class literature. But is the so-called ancestor of "revival" too much?
Ying Sili and all the curious writers will read "The Temple of the Golden Pavilion" written by Ryukawa Toru, and see what talents the man who wrote "Snow Country" has.

"Kinkaku-ji? The one built by Saionji Kokyou?"

The article begins at Monk Hongping's place, where several older people gather together.

Point to the text at the beginning of the article.
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Since I was a child, my father often told me the story of the Golden Pavilion.

Pure literature requires careful consideration of every word.

The article begins by introducing the relationships between the characters. A stuttering boy named Mizoguchi was born in a quiet cape northeast of Maizuru.

His father was a monk, and he heard the story of the Golden Pavilion when he was a child.

This is a novel with a monk as the protagonist. Monk Hongping nodded with interest and said:
"That's right. Kinkaku-ji Temple was originally a residence owned by the Saionji family during the Kamakura period. In 1842, it was acquired by Ashikaga Yoshiie and renovated and opened as a temple. It was named Rokuon-ji Temple, also known as Kinkaku-ji Temple."

The monk glanced through the snow at Longchuan Che who was sitting under the eaves.

At this time, the boy was under the eaves, lazily opening his mouth to ask the beautiful woman for food.

This young man has a deep knowledge of Buddhism and writes beautifully. If it weren't for me
The old monk sighed and continued reading.
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"I often saw the real Golden Pavilion in photos and textbooks, but in my heart, the illusion of the Golden Pavilion described by my father was better. My father would never say that the real Golden Pavilion was magnificent. In his opinion, there was nothing more beautiful than the Golden Pavilion on earth."

The protagonist Mizoguchi comes from a poor family, is ugly, is born with a stutter, and is handicapped both physically and mentally.

But he longed for the beautiful Kinkaku-ji Temple that his father had described. He thought about it while eating, walking, and daydreaming.
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The hills with golden green leaves facing the setting sun look like a golden screen in the middle of the plain. Seeing this scene reminds me of the Golden Pavilion.

"The word 'endure' is used very well."

Sometimes pure literature requires careful consideration of words. An old scholar with silver hair stopped Monk Hongping from turning the page and read out this sentence.

"Understanding the sunset, it seems that this splendor, this magnificence has weight, and the concentration and brightness of this color are stressful. If the perception is too subtle, the brilliance will become unbearable."

The old man, who was not much older than the old monk, nodded.

"This young man has written about the sunset with such weight, wow."

Yukio Mishima's writing style is equally delicate. Upon hearing his friend's words, Hirohei turned the page.

"His book Snow Country is similar, with delicate emotions and wonderful word choice."

"You sound like you have a good impression of him?" The old scholar was wearing a suit with a fountain pen on his chest, with the words Waseda written on it in a few places. "I admire his literary talent, but I can't let him go."

Miya Makoto Ichitaro shook off his friend's hand and said indifferently.

"You are possessed, great monk."

It must be the old scholar from Waseda University who sat in the Buddhist posture and continued reading.

They were given several thousand words, and the text became more and more interesting as they read on. One paragraph in the text aroused the interest of a psychology scholar.
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I like stories about tyrants in history. If I were a taciturn, stuttering tyrant, my retainers would act according to my expression and live in fear all day long.
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I have no need to justify my tyranny through clear and fluent language; I justify all tyranny through silence.
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On the one hand, I fantasized about executing all the teachers and classmates who usually looked down on me. On the other hand, I was intoxicated by the dream of being a great artist who was the master of my inner world and full of calm and contemplative thoughts.
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Although I looked poor on the outside, my inner world was richer than anyone else's. For a teenager with an indelible sense of inferiority, isn't it natural to think that I was quietly selected? I felt that somewhere in this world, there seemed to be a mission waiting for me that I couldn't even figure out.

"this…"

The psychologist raised his eyes.

“From a psychological perspective, people with low self-esteem tend to be conceited, which is a defense mechanism and overcompensation behavior derived from low self-esteem.

The self that has been suppressed for many years, unable to expand outward, will eventually gather inward, like a cloud of smoke that vaguely resembles a human figure, and the heart wall is the mirror that reflects it. This "smoky self" will gradually make it impossible for us to distinguish the truth from the illusion of "self".

The author has studied psychology and has done a good job in describing the disabled and stuttering people.”

Two scholars have already expressed their appreciation for Ryukawa Tetsu's article, but Monk Hongping remains unmoved.

"It's just an extension of criminal psychology. We don't need this kind of thing."

The answer to how to stop yourself from killing cats has already been given.

Show your skills in class literature and join them.

Longchuan Che borrowed the words of the Sixth Patriarch of Zen Buddhism very well and meant a lot.

However, Monk Hongping felt that just relying on a book with delicate wording and involving psychology was not enough for him to recognize the other party and even the position of the founder of the revival.

"If you can truly become a true "Hui Neng" and revive class literature, I will give you my position."

Hongping muttered to himself, and unknowingly he was also attracted by the novel.

You can tell at a glance whether the things are good or not, but there is nothing in it that he wants.

Class literature reflects on politics.

It is a school of thought that extracts ideas from various social phenomena to urge the government to move forward and the people to live in peace.

Longchuan Tetsu writes well, but...

"Ok?"

Monk Hongping frowned when he saw these words.
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One day in May, an old schoolmate who was studying at the Maizuru Naval Academy came back to his alma mater during his vacation. He was tanned, and his straight nose was exposed under his low-knit cap. From head to toe, he looked like a young hero.
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A miserable life turned into luxury in his mouth. He was full of pride in every move he made. At a young age, he knew the importance of self-humility. There was a snake pattern embroidered on the chest of his uniform, and his chest was like the chest of a figurehead moving forward against the sea breeze.

Navy, serpentine emblem.

The old men looked at each other, then looked at each other in surprise.

"Counter-war?"

(End of this chapter)