My era, 1979!

Chapter 40 What the hell are you?
Xu Chengjun, who had just recovered from his emotional turmoil.

I guessed who it was.

After all, she's in her early thirties, a woman, and she's the only one who can freely come and go in this place and knows that she is Xu Chengjun.

Li Xiaolin.

As he sized up Li Xiaolin, Li Xiaolin was also looking at him.

And just as he was wondering about his youth, Zhou Ming told him on the phone that he was an educated youth sent to the countryside, and that he had a novella and a poem that were about to be published in a provincial magazine, as well as a short story that advocated for businesses.

She had already mentally drawn up a profile of Xu Zhiqing—at least 25 years old!
As for the benchmark, it is Lu Xinhua, who just became a sensation last year with his novel "The Wounded," which sparked a nationwide craze for "scar literature."

How old is Lu Xinhua?
This third-year student in the Chinese Department of Fudan University was born in 54. He first worked in the countryside and then joined the army. He is now 25 years old.

It should be noted that before 79, Lu Xinhua had only published one work in provincial-level or higher journals, namely "The Wound" published in Wenhui Daily!
As an editor at a top-tier magazine in Shanghai, she couldn't possibly be unaware of the immense effort required to publish such a short piece.

25 years old? That's an underestimation because Zhou Ming is really pushing him!
How old is Xu Cheng in front of me? Although he looks mature, he can't hide the childishness on his face.

It's only around 20!
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As Xu Chengjun handed her "Foxtail Grass," Li Xiaolin's brows furrowed as she slowly immersed herself in the poem's imagery, subconsciously offering her assessment: "A good poem!"
This poem does not celebrate the wave of reform, nor does it depict the tremendous changes in the country; it simply observes the wild grass on the hillside in quiet contemplation.

But it offers the most scarce resource of our time: humanity.

It seems to have some traces of obscure poetry, but upon closer reading, the imagery always points to specific life scenes, so it doesn't quite resemble it.

She subconsciously looked up at Xu Chengjun again, her gaze much gentler. Talented people are always treated better, no matter where they are.

Moreover, she was far more attractive than the average person.

"The style of this poem is very similar to that of Ai Qing's works today, and it has the potential to spread throughout the country. It is a good poem," she added.

As a "returning poet," Ai Qing's works in the late 70s had broken away from the strong social criticism of his earlier period and turned to a delicate observation of nature and life.

He and Wang Zengqi are both representatives of contemporary nature lyric poetry.

Yes, besides novels and essays, Wang Zengqi also wrote a considerable number of poems.

This is clearly a very high compliment.

Xu Chengjun raised an eyebrow slightly and smiled: "Teacher Li, you flatter me!"

What happened next was quite simple: the two got to know each other, exchanged pleasantries, and Li Xiaolin, being a straightforward and decisive person, asked for the manuscript of "The Fitting Mirror" and began reading it aloud on the spot.

It takes about 20 minutes to read a passage of about 8000 words carefully, but Li Xiaolin spent an hour reading it.

The more he read, the more his brows furrowed, clearly he was considering something.

Li Xiaolin looked up from the manuscript.
She suddenly smiled, and the fine lines at the corners of her eyes resembled ripples on water.

Zhou Ming said you're brave.

She pushed the manuscript paper towards the center.

"I believe it now."

The pencil tip paused on the line "Singing on Broken Glass," and thought, "This ending is too wild."

It should be noted that before the rise of "scar literature," there were generally only two types of literary works about educated youth.

The majority of works are by educated youth who were working in rural or border areas or who had just returned to the city;

A smaller category consists of works created by "professional literary and artistic workers" at the time. These writers were mostly those who grew up in the 50s and did not personally experience being sent to the countryside, but were commissioned by the organization to "immerse themselves in the lives of educated youth" before writing.

His representative work is the short story "Frontier Dawn Song" by Lin Yu.

But it's more of a historical documentary than a literary work.

The greatest significance of this documentary in literary history is that it provides valuable materials for the study of the ideological state of Chinese youth in the 60s and the history of frontier development.

Other works from this period were largely similar.
Essentially a propaganda vehicle, it shields personal emotions.

Following this was the emerging field of reflective literature and scar literature, represented by writers such as Lu Xinhua and Liu Xinwu. Its greatest significance lay in breaking away from the grand historical narratives of earlier works!
It has returned to the expression of personal emotions.

However, the work indulges in the catharsis of suffering and spectacle, its creative techniques and emotional expression are straightforward, and its reflections stop at mere accusations.

Doesn't it resemble the later "youthful trauma literature"?
To add a point, some of these works lack objectivity in their descriptions, and their creative process subtly incorporates a Western-centric trauma narrative framework.
It deconstructs the subjectivity of local history in a seemingly critical manner.

In Song Xiaobao's words, "He doesn't seem like a good person."

Its historical significance in the present day is undeniable.

Great works originate from extreme suffering.

Scars and reflections are the flowers of the other shore born from suffering.

We've caught the wave of the times.

However, judging from the content and creative approach,

Even including the reform literature that has just begun to emerge.

You can't find a work as "wild" as "The Fitting Mirror".

His approach is unconventional, his writing style is unconventional, he's unconventional in every way.

What happened next was simple. As an editor, one must understand the creative process behind a work, so the two of them started discussing "The Fitting Mirror".

discuss?

It doesn't really look like it.

Because of Li Xiaolin's assertive and decisive personality, this feels somewhat like an interview.

then,

Li Xiaolin looked up and asked, "In the novel, the mirror doesn't reflect light; instead, it splits into two. Chunlan is arranging fabrics behind the counter, but her reflection is trying on a floral blouse in the mirror. How did you come up with this kind of splitting?"

“We met at the department store,” Xu Chengjun answered honestly.

"There was a saleswoman who would always take advantage of the quieter times to practice on new fabrics in front of the fitting room mirror, pinching the corners of the fabric between her fingers and sticking them to her body as quickly as if she were stealing something. But she never actually wore them, she just practiced. I suddenly realized that the woman in the mirror was the real one, while the woman in real life was just pretending."

Li Xiaolin turned to a page and read aloud: "'The floral fabric in the mirror suddenly wrapped around her, the collar tied into a bow, while the fabric outside the mirror remained obediently hanging on the shelf.' The perspective here is very special; it's not in Chunlan's consciousness, nor in the eyes of an observer, but rather as if the mirror itself is looking at her. What are you trying to resolve with this transformation?"

“I want readers to see the parts that are suppressed,” Xu Chengjun said. “The mirror became her second life, and what the shadow did was all the things she dared not do. Through the perspective of the mirror, this second life can be directly revealed without any detours.”

"In the final scene, Chunlan's reflection in the mirror is unbuttoning her clothes, her fingers getting tangled in the thread, 'struggling harder and harder, like a butterfly being bound.' Was that detail truly witnessed?"

“The thread was stumbled upon by accident,” Xu Chengjun nodded, “but the ‘entanglement’ in the mirror was intentional. Her desires and fears are like this thread; the more she tries to break free, the tighter it gets tangled.”

Li Xiaolin tapped her fingertips on the manuscript paper: "Where should this kind of plot, which is impossible in reality, be classified as? It's a bit like magical realism?"

At this point, Li Xiaolin felt a little regretful, since research on Latin American magical realism literature had only just begun nationwide.

At the beginning of this year, Shen Guozheng fired the first shot in domestic research on Latin American literature.

In May, Foreign Literature Trends translated the characteristics of contemporary Latin American novels as "magical realism" for the first time.

Talking about such trendy things was obviously a bit awkward for the educated youth who were sent to the countryside.

It's not that I look down on them, it's just that in those days, educated youth really had no way to access Western literary works.

If you can't answer, it's a bit embarrassing for the person to back down.

But Xu Chengjun gave her a huge surprise.

Or you could say it was surprise!

If it weren't for the need to maintain a good image,
She even wanted to say something like Sun Wukong:
Monster, what are you?

(End of this chapter)