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

Chapter 19 Find Him for Me

Old Zhang, from the Ruxian Cultural Center, is 58 years old this year. He started working at the center in 1954 and gradually rose to become its director. He has personally experienced all the major events in the arts and culture circles before and after the founding of the People's Republic of China.

He has worked here for over twenty years and has a deep affection for the cultural center.

One of the things I do every day after starting work is read the latest issue of magazines and newspapers. When reading some big magazines, I usually pray silently in my heart that I will see the authors from Ruxian County.

Every time, it starts with hope and ends in disappointment.

The lack of notable writers in Ru County has become a major concern for him.

The second thing was to take the latest magazine and convene a meeting of the seven writers from the cultural center to discuss the latest magazine articles, and to urge and encourage everyone to write articles, and to write good articles.

"As veterans of the cultural center, we should all boldly put pen to paper and submit more articles to publications like *People's Literature* and *Yanjing Literature*, even if they're rejected. As our teacher said, nothing is impossible if you put your mind to it. You...sigh."

Old Zhang always ends his meetings with these few sentences, but looking at the few people sitting there, he eventually leaves helplessly with his hands behind his back.

These people at the cultural center make a living through writing, and their superiors also assign them writing tasks. In this small county, these writers are considered quite well-known, but outside of it, they are just unknown literary figures.

Some people were able to publish articles in the Luoyang magazine "Peony," and further up the chain, they would receive a revision letter from the Henan provincial literary magazine "Henan Literature and Art."

In the end, after going around in circles and making many revisions, it was never published.

Old Zhang still remembers the moment he received the revised manuscript. The entire cultural center was in an uproar. He was so excited that tears streamed down his face. He felt that under his leadership, the Ruxian Cultural Center could finally appear before the people of the whole province.

When I finally learned that it hadn't been published, I was devastated for days. I called an old acquaintance to inquire, and they replied that it didn't comply with policy and could easily be classified as toxic content. The editorial department was also considering the author's interests and had temporarily suspended publication.

This has been postponed and has not been published to this day.

Upon hearing this, Old Zhang quickly abandoned the idea of ​​pressing for answers. He knew that once it was classified as a poisonous plant, even he, as the curator, would be held responsible.

He recalled that after Yan Huiyun, an author he knew, wrote "The Shepherd's Flute," which was labeled as such, a flood of critical articles came at him. He still felt a chill when he thought back to that time.

Thinking about this, Old Zhang felt a little fortunate. At least during his tenure, the cultural center hadn't encountered any major problems, and his superiors trusted him. The Revolutionary Committee often assigned articles to the cultural center, which they completed quite well.

He thought today would be another uneventful and unproductive day, but when he saw Liu Yimin's name and address, it was as if he had been hit by a bullet from 54.

Only one thought remained in my mind: finally, someone from Ruxian's literary circles has made a name for themselves.

His first thought wasn't to finish reading it, but to quickly run to the cultural center's communal office, step over the threshold, and loudly ask while holding up a copy of "People's Literature": "Put down what you're doing, does anyone here use the pen name 'Liu Yimin'?"

The cultural center's communal office was a large room with four or five tables with peeling paint. Some people were drinking tea and reading newspapers, while others had a chessboard in the middle of the office and were shouting "Checkmate!"

Several slogans hung above the office, such as "Art and literature serve the people."

Looking at his lazy subordinates, Old Zhang sighed helplessly, knowing that it definitely wasn't written by someone from the library, otherwise the county revolutionary committee next door would have known about the news long ago.

If this were true, they certainly wouldn't have kept it bottled up until now.

"Stop for a moment, does anyone know a writer named Liu Yimin?"

"Writers? Aren't all the writers in our county here?" A casual, slightly teasing voice rang out. Old Zhang didn't need to look to know who it was; the speaker was an old man reading a newspaper, wearing a faded blue Zhongshan suit and cloth shoes with thick soles. Despite the heat, he stubbornly refused to take off his Zhongshan suit.

He wore his greyish-white cap neatly, along with a pair of brown reading glasses with a rope tied to the back of the frame. His name was Lao Li, the author who received the revision letter.

Ever since that incident, I've felt like my talents are going to waste, and I always speak in a sarcastic or sarcastic tone.

Old Zhang ignored Old Li and excitedly said, "What a wonderful thing! A writer from our county has published a novella in People's Literature and Art, and Comrade Cui Daoyi, the editor of People's Literature and Art, even wrote a special review on it, which shows how important this novella is."

"What?" Old Li jumped to his feet, looking utterly incredulous. He strode forward and snatched the copy of "People's Literature" from Old Zhang's hand.

The other writers, who were wearing vests and fanning themselves while playing chess, lost all interest in the game and immediately gathered around, eager to watch.

After everyone had finished reading, Old Zhang said again, "What do you all think of this article?"

"Nothing special!" Old Li said indifferently. But instead of slouching in his chair as usual, he sat up straight.

Then, still unconvinced, he added, "If only my piece could be published."

"Old Li, your piece? Is yours as good as Writer Liu's? Writer Liu's articles start from small things, but aim high. They are full of humor and satire, and the language is simple and powerful. Most importantly, they are highly critical." Old Wang from the cultural center immediately shut Old Li up.

Old Li snorted coldly, knowing that what he said made sense, and stopped talking with a livid face.

During this period, there was also a hierarchy of literary works. People tended to favor critical literary works rather than purely popular novels.

Regardless of what you criticize, you have to criticize something in your writing, even if you're wrong about it.
"It is indeed well written; otherwise, Comrade Cui Daoyi would not have attached such importance to it. Everyone knows Comrade Cui Daoyi's standing in the literary world. In any case, this is good news for the literary circles of Ru County."

"But who has ever heard of Comrade Liu Yimin?" Old Zhang asked with a smile.

"do not know!"

"never heard of that!"

Old Zhang frowned. Ru County had produced a great writer, but he, as the director of the cultural center, was unaware of it. If his superiors inadvertently asked about it, it would be a mistake on his part.

The key point is that the cultural center needs someone like this to support it, and he secretly made up his mind to do everything he could to get that person into the cultural center.

“Director, now that you mention it, I suddenly remembered something. I was chatting with the cultural officer of Shiling Commune the other day, and he casually mentioned that some people from several production brigades were saying that a writer had emerged from their area.”

I didn't pay much attention when he said it, but now that I think about it, is it possible that he's from Shiling Commune, but I don't know which production team he's from?

Upon hearing this, Old Zhang immediately made up his mind: "How about this? Xiao Liu, Xiao Wang, and Lao Sun, the three of you go to Shiling Commune to find Comrade Liu Yimin. The museum will give you a subsidy."

"What if we can't find it?" Old Sun immediately looked bitter.

"Don't come back if you can't find him! You must carry forward the revolutionary spirit of not being afraid of hardship. This is also an opportunity for you to learn from Comrade Liu Yimin. When you find him, tell him that our cultural center wants to invite him to give a report!"

(End of this chapter)