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

Chapter 219 The Little Tyrant of the Poetry World

The northwest wind kept battering the faded wooden doors and windows, and the last remaining yellow and white couplets on the door frame rustled forlornly in the wind.

After someone spoke the truth, the room fell into a deathly silence.

Many members of the Enlightenment Poetry Society had already considered leaving, and those who were employed had been earnestly advised by their superiors that if they didn't listen, they might starve.

Huang Xiang angrily pulled out a cigarette, struck three matches before lighting it, and the smoke slowly rose into the room. He took a deep drag and exhaled slowly.

"Old Huang, stop just smoking and say something!"

Huang Xiang gave a bitter laugh, his already pained face turning even more wretched: "I wasn't smoking cigarettes, I was..."

A girl next to me quickly took out her pen and asked, "Is this a newly written poem?"

"."

When the cigarette burned his hand, Huang Xiang threw the cigarette butt on the ground, crushed it with his foot, and said angrily, "Why is it so hard for me to write poetry!"

"No, even if it's the last day, I will still speak out with my hoarse throat!" Huang Xiang ran to his desk again, ready to write a few big-character posters.

The person who initially reminded him that there wasn't much paper left could only swallow his words when he saw his condition.

They bought their own paper with their own money, unlike the people at "Today" magazine who secretly "borrowed" it from printing plants and state magazines by taking advantage of their positions.

"This Liu Yimin, Ai Qing is the king of the poetry world, and he's the little king of the poetry world. You can't talk to him, you can't touch him, you can't scold him. I'm going to fight back fiercely. What kind of nonsense is he writing? It should be torn to shreds, completely torn to shreds!"

The title of "Little Tyrant of the Poetry World" was directly bestowed upon Liu Yimin, completely forgetting that Liu Yimin was first insulted by them before he began to fight back.

"Old Huang, Liu Yimin's poems are quite good. Is it not appropriate for us to say it like this?"

"Yes, won't this offend the readers?"

My wandering song is a dream.

游踪
My Only Listener

It was silence.

Huang Xiang swayed his head and loudly recited a few lines of his own poem, and the others immediately understood. Huang Xiang had written many poems, but his favorite was still his own "Solo".

After a while, the table was covered with short essays in retaliation, and a group of people gathered around to read them.

For the sake of the poetry world, I'm willing to be an angry little bird.

[Refuting Liu Yimin's so-called theory of anger]

[I'm crying out for the poetry world]

[The number one young writer? Let's give him his place!]

[This incompetent and immoral little tyrant, a lackey of the tyrant, should also be sent to the crematorium!]

Seeing that he had written so many short essays in such a short time, Liu Yimin had to applaud and say a few words of admiration, using words like "wonderful".

After receiving the sample text, the others began to copy it by hand. Once they saw that they had copied it almost completely, Huang Xiang waved his hand and said, "Post it!"

The group split up and rode outwards from the courtyard. They went to various parks, universities, and the offices of magazines and newspapers such as "People's Literature," braving the cold wind to stick their bikes to the walls.

Unlike in the past when people were full of enthusiasm when riding bicycles, today many people are quite apprehensive, saying that the poem is no good. Wouldn't that make readers laugh their heads off?
While the big-character posters were being put up, I also heard many people reciting "The World" in the park, marveling at the vastness of the world and saying that they must go out and see it for themselves when they have the chance!
As soon as it was posted, a group of people gathered around, some of them holding notebooks and copying down the contents of the big-character poster.

The administrator will be coming to tear it up soon, so they need to quickly copy it down before they can send it out.

"For the sake of the poetry world, I'm willing to be an Angry Bird? Interesting, very interesting!" After saying that, he continued reading: "What? Comrade Liu Yimin is neither talented nor virtuous?"

Upon hearing this, a group of people crowded around to look at the last picture. After a while, someone cursed:

"Isn't this just utter nonsense! Which of Comrade Liu Yimin's novels and poems isn't top-notch? As for being immoral? He fought with French journalists in France, rescued herders and protected collective property in Aba for research, and he did everything with great integrity!"

These bastards, why are they biting people indiscriminately? No wonder Comrade Liu Yimin said in an interview that some people nowadays don't properly study poetry, but instead spend their days yelling like monkeys in the mountains!

"Didn't I say that people want to cry?"

"What happened to the Enlightenment Poetry Society?" Some people shook their heads regretfully.

Besides the Enlightenment Poetry Society, some members of the underground poetry society also wrote articles refuting the previous ones, but their language was not as radical as that of the Enlightenment Poetry Society.

Inside the editorial office of People's Literature, Cui Daoyi was diligently reading manuscripts at work when someone came to call him, saying that a new big-character poster had appeared in the corridor.

"Old Wang, what are you yelling about? Isn't this normal? Look at the manuscript, look at the manuscript!" Cui Daoyi waved his hand weakly.

"You really aren't going?"

"I really won't go!"

"This concerns your precious junior brother!"

Before Lao Wang could react, Cui Daoyi sprang from his seat and ran downstairs.

When Cui Daoyi arrived, a large crowd had already gathered around to look at the text and were discussing it animatedly.

Cui Daoyi squeezed into the crowd to take a look, and Feng Jicai turned around and greeted him.

Cui Daoyi nodded, crossed his arms, looked at it for a while, and said, "What the hell is this?"

"Yes! What a little tyrant of the poetry world! You can't talk to him, you can't touch him, you can't scold him. If you could talk to him and scold him, he wouldn't have jumped out so eagerly with a few reviews and an interview without naming names!"

"Editor Cui, it's good that Yimin is criticizing us like this; it'll help to clean up the poetry scene!" Feng Jicai said.

Some people said, "They've really lost their minds, criticizing everything. Readers have discerning eyes!"

After Cui Daoyi roughly noted down the titles and contents of several big-character posters, he made a phone call and headed towards Liu Yimin's courtyard house.

"Yimin, take a look?" Cui Daoyi said with a smile.

"Senior brother, you're so happy about the insults you gave me!"

"Sigh, they've made some terrible moves. I bet even more people will be criticizing them now. Readers who like your poetry and novels will all be on the opposite side. Let me tell you what happened!" Cui Daoyi said hurriedly after taking a sip of tea.

"Actually, I already know!" Liu Yimin pointed to a few sheets of paper on the table: "These were just delivered by someone!"

Zhu Lin's roommate, Chu Hong, came over just now. She tore down the sticker and brought it directly to Liu Yimin. "Wow, you have a great network of supporters!" Cui Daoyi exclaimed, then asked, "What were you thinking?"

"What else can we think of? We'll just publish the reviews one by one! We've submitted them to various magazines. Yanjing Literature and Art is after People's Literature and Art, and next is Poetry Journal."

Liu Yimin said, counting on his fingers.

"I feel relieved when you say that!"

"If you scold them once and they give up, they'll start all over again after a while, which is perfect!" Liu Yimin said cheerfully.

I hadn't even run out of bullets and was just about to reload when the other side threw out. That was so boring!

Seeing Liu Yimin's confidence, Cui Daoyi smiled and returned to People's Literature and Art.

Inside the editorial office of "Today," everyone was printing "internal study materials." Someone came in and handed out articles from the Enlightenment Poetry Society for everyone to read.

After watching for a while, Huang Rui shook his head and said, "None of us would dare to say that. Huang Xiang is incredibly bold!"

"Just wait and see, there's going to be a good show!" Munk, who was standing next to him, turned around and continued with his work.

The entire poetry community and readers were waiting for Liu Yimin's response, but no one expected it to come so quickly.

The latest edition of the literary and artistic reviews in "Yanjing Literature and Art" features a commentary by Liu Yimin.

The phrase "[Should the debate revolve around poetry or poets?]" is particularly striking, and many readers admire Liu Yimin's earnest efforts to advocate for the development of the poetry scene and for poetry itself.

Then I thought of Liu Yimin's commentary in the China Youth Daily: "Return true poetry to poetry, and look at the issues from the perspective of poetry itself!"

Thinking about it carefully, yes, why can't we simply discuss whether a poem is good or bad, instead of nitpicking and arguing with people?
Are people who do this truly acting in the best interests of poetry?
Looking at the magazine in his hands, Huang Xiang muttered to himself, "He's become a poet with a conscience, wholeheartedly dedicated to the development of poetry!"

"How did he reply so quickly?"

When a group of people posted their "short essays" and saw no reaction, they were still smug, thinking they had won the argument. But the newly published "Yanjing Literature" magazine directly slapped them in the face.

After careful consideration, everyone realized that the final printing of *Yanjing Literature* would take time: "This was premeditated! He wrote more than one review; he was waiting for us all along!"

Do you think we'll see many more magazines publishing reviews in the future?

A single question silenced the entire editorial team; it was simply too difficult to answer.

They rely on underground magazines and various park corridors to voice their opinions; they can post them anytime, anywhere, and hurl insults whenever they want.

Liu Yimin is no good; newspapers take at least a day to publish a page, and magazines take a month.

Liu Yimin's platform is considered the official media sphere, while theirs is the underground media sphere!

They were evenly matched, neither willing to give in!
"Go stick it on again!"

Water dripped from the steps in front of the courtyard house. A person holding an umbrella walked quickly toward the courtyard house, dodging puddles of all sizes along the way. Traces of yellow soil could be faintly seen on the cotton-padded clothes on his body.

Liu Yimin opened the door, looked at the man's weathered face and long stubble, and asked with surprise, "Comrade Lu Yao, what brings you to Yanjing?"

"Yimin, I'm just going in for a drink of water. I came straight here from the People's Literature and Art Publishing House as soon as I got off the train, and I didn't even have time to drink water at the People's Literature and Art Publishing House!"

Lu Yao pursed her dry lips and said hoarsely.

Liu Yimin quickly led him inside and poured him a cup of hot tea!

Lu Yao took a breath and said, "I've written another version of my novel in northern Shaanxi. I plan to revise it for People's Literature and Art magazine during this winter. I'm going all in; I won't go home for the New Year until I finish revising it!"

"Senior brother, why didn't you tell me!"

"I must have forgotten! I was too embarrassed to come in September. Sigh, when I first arrived, I boasted that I would finish writing it in three months. But when I actually started writing, I realized that every word was the result of my hard work!"

Lu Yao sighed repeatedly, a hint of shame flashing across his face.

Liu Yimin patted his rough hand: "Don't think too much about it. That's just how writing is. You never know when your inspiration will strike!"

Hearing Liu Yimin's advice, Lu Yao felt much better: "How's the matter in the poetry world going?"

"With your support, of course the situation is excellent!" Liu Yimin said with a smile. "I have to thank you all for paving the way for me!"

"We're just speaking out against injustice!" Lu Yao said politely.

Liu Yimin handed Lu Yao a few big-character posters left in the study. Lu Yao was furious and his face turned ashen: "These people think they're something special. They all think they're the saviors of the poetry world. I wonder if their writing is even coherent!"

"Hey, don't worry, I'm not in a hurry yet!" Liu Yimin advised.

Lu Yao plopped down in Liu Yimin's study: "No, I still need to write a few reviews and have a good talk with them!"

Just as he was writing, the knocking sounded again. Liu Yimin opened the courtyard door, and Jiang Zilong looked at him with a smile: "Comrade Yimin, surprised, aren't you!"

Jiang Zilong was wearing a light gray Zhongshan suit, a worker's uniform, a cap, and a gray scarf that completely covered his chin and below.

He is currently the deputy secretary and workshop director of Jincheng Heavy Machinery Plant, and this image is that of a standard workshop leader.

"So you two planned this all along?" Liu Yimin asked.

"Haha, we made an appointment in the letter to come and see you, my old friend who is in the eye of the storm."

"Welcome, welcome! Comrade Lu Yao is inside!"

Liu Yimin led them inside. When Lu Yao saw Jiang Zilong, she only raised her head briefly before lowering it again.

Jiang Zilong looked at Lu Yao's article with curiosity, and then saw the "little essay" on the desk. He showed the same indignation as Lu Yao and wished he could find a place to start writing as well.

Lu Yao wrote for a while before looking up and chatting with Jiang Zilong!
"Comrade Zilong, how's your new novel?" Lu Yao asked.

Jiang Zilong said helplessly, "It's just a little bit off!"

"Yimin, what about yours?" Lu Yao asked.

"Yes, Yimin, what great works did you bring us back from Aba? Grasslands, wolves—these are things we can't see. You know what? Reading your 'The World' made me want to go out and see it all. When I saw you in Aba, I was so envious!"

Lu Yao replied, "Going on field research is no easy task. I often end up covered in dirt and looking like a beggar. You only see the grasslands, not the hardships inside!"

Liu Yimin pulled the manuscript out of the drawer: "This is what I wrote. The research trip was for writing a script for the People's Art Theatre. The script has already been submitted, and the novel will be finished soon!"

(End of this chapter)