Writer 1978: I Need to Give the Literary World a Lesson

Write Chapter 168; they deserve to be seen.
"Teacher, nothing really escapes your eyes!" Liu Yimin praised.

Cao Yu glanced at him and said with a smile, "Zhu Lin is a very good girl. She is hardworking and has a good personality. Since you've decided to date her, then you should treat her well!"

Lan Tianye, being a big mouth, told Cao Yu the news as soon as he saw him.

Cao Yu added, "However, you two should still be mindful of your influence at the Beijing People's Art Theatre."

Liu Yimin nodded. He understood the principle: the bigger the tree, the more the wind will blow. When a screenwriter and an actor walk together, it's inevitable that some people will gossip. But if they really gossip, he's not afraid.

As Cao Yu and Liu Yimin were chatting, Mao Dun knocked on Cao Yu's office door. Seeing that Liu Yimin was also there, he smiled and said, "Did I disturb your conversation, teacher and student?"

Liu Yimin smiled slightly and moved a stool to place in front of Mao Dun. Cao Yu was also taken aback by Mao Dun's sudden visit: "Brother, what brings you here today?"

“Spring is here, and it’s stuffy to stay indoors alone. I came out for a walk, and then I thought of you!” After Mao Dun sat down, Liu Yimin was about to leave when Mao Dun said, “Yimin, sit down too. We’re not talking about anything shameful.”

I haven't had a chance to congratulate you on winning the award yet; you're the only author this issue to receive multiple awards. I originally planned to attend the awards ceremony, but unfortunately, I couldn't make it due to health reasons.

Mao Dun spoke slowly and deliberately, occasionally taking out a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe the sweat from his forehead. Mao Dun was 84 years old this year, and with his advanced age, his health was naturally frail.

After exchanging pleasantries for a while, Mao Dun got straight to the point about why he had come.

"Currently, there are literary awards for short stories and novellas in China, but not for novels. I've been thinking about this for a long time. As a novelist, I feel regretful that there are no related awards for novels. The development of novels also depends on encouraging excellent works."

Old Cao, Yimin, I believe you two understand.

After sharing his thoughts, Mao Dun began to analyze the current state of novel writing, arguing that it was time to encourage the creation of novels, otherwise there would be fewer and fewer excellent novels.

Given the long time span required to create an excellent novel, the final royalties for the author may not be substantial, putting pressure on their livelihood. Winning a novel award, however, would be a significant encouragement for the author, both materially and spiritually.

Liu Yimin understood: Mao Dun wanted to establish a prize for long novels. The Mao Dun Literature Prize was established in 1981 after Mao Dun's death, according to his last wishes. Since it was his last wish, he must have thought about it for a long time.

Cao Yu nodded in agreement and, based on his analysis of numerous international awards, concluded that China indeed lacks awards for long novels. Cao Yu also analyzed screenplay awards in his field, though he didn't feel comfortable directly referring to them as the "Cao Yu Screenplay Award."

Cao Yu encouraged Mao Dun to suggest to the China Federation of Literary and Art Circles and the Ministry of Culture that a prize for long novels be established.

Mao Dun waved his hand and said, "The Federation of Literary and Art Circles is also short on budget right now. In addition, since we already have short stories and novellas, neither the Federation nor the Writers Association has any plans to establish a long novel award. So, I have an idea. Over the years, I have written so many books and received a lot of royalties, but these royalties are no longer useful to me. I want to donate them to the Writers Association to establish a long novel award. This money can be used as the funding for the award and the prize money."

“Brother, how can you do this? You still have to live, and you have several children.” Cao Yu’s expression changed. He hadn’t expected Mao Dun to have this idea: to donate his property.

"I am now in my eighties, like a candle flickering in the wind, and I may meet Marx at any time."

When Mao Dun spoke of death, he seemed quite philosophical about it. Cao Yu sighed, a look of sadness crossing his face.

“If the Writers’ Association doesn’t want this money, then when I die, I’ll make a will. Someone has to respect the will of this old man! Yimin, what do you think?” Mao Dun looked at Liu Yimin.

Liu Yimin was about to speak when Mao Dun interrupted him again: "Don't say nice things, let's stick to the facts!"

"If a prize for long novels could be established, it would definitely benefit the future development of long novels. It would encourage outstanding writers to create long novels. If it were to be established, it would certainly be best to do so as soon as possible," Liu Yimin said honestly.

If it had been established sooner, Mao Dun would have seen it sooner, and he wouldn't have missed the birth of a domestic award for long-form literature, which would have been a regret.

He paused, then continued, "I suggest that the award for long novels be named after your pen name, such as the Mao Dun Literature Prize."

Mao Dun quickly said, "That won't do. Let's just name it the Long Novel Literature Prize."

Liu Yimin then shared his views, while Mao Dun remained silent. Cao Yu, standing nearby, spoke up:
“When Yimin first said it, I also felt it was inappropriate. I had a lot of resistance when the scriptwriting award was named the Cao Yu Literature Award. But on the other hand, Yimin is not wrong. The names of us old guys still have some use internationally. We should be happy that we can make some contribution to the domestic literary awards in the end.”

Mao Dun didn't say anything more. Liu Yimin understood his concerns; he was simply afraid of being accused of seeking fame and fortune.

After a long silence, Mao Dun said to Cao Yu, "You've taken on a good student, Yimin. Why aren't you my student?"

Cao Yu said smugly, "You guys, Old Ba said the same thing. I said, don't always focus on my students. You can take on one or two students yourself if you have the chance!"

Mao Dun chuckled softly, "I don't have the energy to collect them anymore, Yimin. If you have time or any questions, feel free to come visit me anytime. You haven't written a full-length novel yet, have you? When will you finish one so I can take a look!"

Liu Yimin poured a cup of tea for each of them: "I'm currently writing a long novel, but unfortunately I didn't bring it with me, otherwise I would have liked to ask you for advice in person."

Mao Dun became interested and hurriedly asked Liu Yimin to tell him about it. After Liu Yimin gave a brief explanation, Mao Dun asked where the manuscript was.
Upon hearing that they were inside a courtyard house, Cao Yu patted Liu Yimin on the shoulder and said, "Let's go, it's not far anyway, let's visit your courtyard house. I've owned it for so long, but I haven't been to see it yet. Perfect, my brother and I can go for a stroll."

Liu Yimin accompanied Cao Yu and Mao Dun, and the three of them walked and chatted for about twenty minutes before arriving at the courtyard house.

Mao Dun and Cao Yu carefully examined the courtyard house from the outside. Cao Yu said, "The house is indeed quite large. Judging from its appearance and location, the original owner must have been a high-ranking official."

Mao Dun said meaningfully, "A courtyard house, what it has in abundance is stories!"

Pushing open the door, Cao Yu wanted to take a good look at the architecture and scenery inside, but Mao Dun couldn't wait any longer. Seeing Liu Yimin's study, he gave him a wink and prepared to go inside.

Cao Yu followed behind, both amused and exasperated, and advised, "Take it easy, old man! Do you still think of us as young people shouting slogans in the streets?"

"The sight of the hunt brings joy, the sight of the hunt brings joy!"

Inside the study, Mao Dun was engrossed in reading the manuscript. Cao Yu surveyed the room, and upon seeing the framed calligraphy, nodded in satisfaction. Since Mao Dun was reading, Cao Yu, even if he wanted to see, made no attempt to approach and vie for a look.

I'm practically the host of my students' manuscripts. As the host, I naturally have to prioritize my guests!

As a teacher, one should maintain this level of professionalism. Looking at the reader's letter, Cao Yu marveled at how his student had unknowingly earned such a high place in the readers' hearts. Smiling at Liu Yimin, he said, "In your future works, don't let your readers down."

After waiting for an hour or two, Cao Yu still couldn't sit still any longer: "Brother, give me the ones in front, I want to take a look too!"

Mao Dun didn't speak, but simply turned around to tell Cao Yu not to disturb him.

Helpless, Cao Yu had no choice but to get it himself. Liu Yimin ignored them, picked up his book and started reading, only occasionally refilling their water bottles.

Three hours later, Mao Dun reluctantly looked away from the manuscript: "I'm getting old. I can't stand looking at things for more than a few hours. When I was young, I could sit for a whole day."

Mao Dun got up and walked around the courtyard for a while before returning to his study to read the manuscript.

After the two finished reading, Mao Dun spoke first: "It's a very exciting story. If a long novel award were established, this would definitely be the first one. The subject matter is novel; the story of the Tibetan people's resistance is also a history book that can be written. I've met many Tibetan compatriots before. I believe that comrades in the United Front will definitely like your book."

When do you expect to finish writing it?

"It will take at least another month!"

"A month? Great, great, I can wait, I can wait!" Mao Dun laughed heartily. "Don't just talk big. If you can't write it in a month, I'll be coming after you."

"I will not make empty promises. It's just writing a book. You don't need to make me sign a military pledge, do you?"

Mao Dun looked at the courtyard trees that were beginning to flourish: "Youth is wonderful, you are in your prime. You are at the perfect age to write books, how come Lao Cao met you first?"

Cao Yu placed the manuscript on the table: "We're destined to meet, but brother, this is a junior in the literary world, our student. Please take a look and give me some pointers if there's anything that needs to be revised!"

Mao Dun exposed Cao Yu, saying, "You want me to train your students, don't you?" However, Mao Dun still took the manuscript and read it again.

When Cao Yu shared his views, they were all focused on adapting the play into a stage production. As Liu Yimin's teacher, he naturally wanted Liu to follow in his footsteps in the field of stage play creation.

He felt that the entire story was unlikely to be adapted into a stage play, and even if it were, it certainly wouldn't be particularly exciting.

"Looking at the whole piece, if it were adapted into a stage play, the story wouldn't have enough tension!"

Liu Yimin's expression shifted. Judging from his words, if the whole piece couldn't be adapted, could a part of it be?

"You're quite clever. If you could take the first half and make it into a story, and adapt it into a script, it would definitely be popular with the audience. It would be a magnificent epic of the Tibetan people resisting foreign invasion."

Cao Yu appeared slightly excited as he laid out all his views, even including how to revise the play: "Next year marks the 30th anniversary of the peaceful liberation of Tibet. I think if it's well-written, this play can be a tribute to the 30th anniversary of the peaceful liberation of Tibet."

We need plays like this now to unite people of all ethnic groups and strive together!

Mao Dun was trying to revise the manuscript, but upon hearing Cao Yu's words, he unconsciously joined the discussion.

Mao Dun also recounted a story about 2000 Tibetan soldiers who went to Ningbo to fight against British aggression alongside soldiers of various ethnic groups.

Few people know this story, but Mao Dun, a native of Zhejiang Province, knew it: "More than 2000 Tibetan soldiers who rushed to the aid of the Tibetans almost all sacrificed their lives. After they died, their queues were cut off and sent back to Sichuan Province, so Sanjiang Township in Aba had a unique queue grave."

As he spoke, moved by this period of history, Mao Dun shed tears.

Cao Yu looked at Liu Yimin and enthusiastically encouraged him, "Write it down! Write this history down. The people need to know, and their stories need to be seen!"

Mao Dun nodded in agreement, took Liu Yimin's hands, and said, "Write it down!"

This was the first time Liu Yimin had heard this history, and he was deeply moved by it. Seeing the two men's eager gazes, Liu Yimin nodded.

Cao Yu said, "Since you've decided to write, you can't rush it. You must write it well and make it wonderful. Go to Sichuan Province, visit Tibet, gather some inspiration, and write it carefully!"

Cao Yu even thought that if he were to go abroad soon, he would go with his students.

It's no easy task for a young person to travel to another place to gather material. He has been to Xinjiang and Inner Mongolia, where sandstorms, language barriers, and different customs all present challenges.

If it's the same as collecting folk songs in Han areas, it's much less difficult.

Mao Dun thought for a moment and offered a suggestion: "If this play is written, it won't just be a matter for your Beijing People's Art Theatre. The comrades in the United Front shouldn't just sit back and reap the benefits; they should contribute their efforts, help out, contact the local comrades, and provide all the necessary assistance!"

"Haha, in that case, I'll find some comrades from the Ministry of Culture and the United Front Work Department before I go abroad, ask for their opinions, solicit their thoughts, and then make a decision!"

Well, after a few words between the two, Liu Yimin's days were basically booked for the next period of time.

Mao Dun gave them some more suggestions for revising "The Kite Runner". After leaving the courtyard, they realized they hadn't eaten lunch. The three of them went to the canteen of the Beijing People's Art Theatre, where the chef cooked three bowls of noodles, relieving their hunger.

"How are you feeling?" Cao Yu asked.

Mao Dun's visit today has cleared up all his worries, and he's in a great mood: "Today is exceptionally good. I'm planning to go find Comrades Xia Yan and Zhou Yang now to discuss the literary prize. Would you like to come with me?"

Cao Yu didn't hesitate: "I'll go with you, and I'll also talk to them about the play creation."

Of course, Cao Yu also played an important role, which was to propose the naming of the literary prize, as Mao Dun was always too embarrassed to propose it himself.

(End of this chapter)