-Lu You's Rain at Jianmen Road
one
The sword door is in sight.
Although the mountains are as blue as Dai, the clouds are bleak, and a stray winter goose is singing in circles.
A line of people walked slowly. Some of these people walk and some ride donkeys, but they don't even have a decent horse. Family members and the trench car were sandwiched in the middle of the team. Squeak, the sound of wooden wheels turning around the axle is monotonous and dull.
Riding a donkey next to the sedan chair is Lu You, a member of the Soothing Department of Chengdufu Road who is on duty.
This is the winter of Song Xiaozong's main roads for eight years (1 172). He is forty-seven years old. It is the age of great achievements. But now, his heart is gloomy with unfulfilled ambitions, just like this winter afternoon.
A few days ago, he was in the front line of Nanzheng, Shaanxi Province, making suggestions for defending the frontier of his home country. I didn't expect to be transferred from the front line because of the scholar's spirit and exiled to Sichuan, where the mountains are high and the roads are far away. There was chaos all the way, and no one cared about him as a small official. There were no horses in the outpost just now, only a few thin donkeys accompanied them. Therefore, when I was depressed, I drank a glass of wine in the pub. Who would have thought that "drinking to drown your sorrows is more worrying", but now I miss my married mother more and more. Since ancient times, you can't have both loyalty and filial piety. I can't serve my country, but I have left my hometown, and my wife and children have also suffered bumps and displacements.
It's finally raining. Very thin and light rain.
In the middle of nowhere, there is no place to shelter from the rain. The team stopped, covered some open-air luggage with oil paper and moved on. A servant came to give Lu You an umbrella. He shook his head and refused.
It rained in winter.
I really want to get drunk by the warm fire.
It happened that it was the endless winter rain. And the road on the edge of the broken monument is endless. It's really "the house leaks and it rains all night."
That strange goose is still barking. Is this a wild goose? Isn't it winter already? Why doesn't it go to the south for the winter? Is this the south? The donkey on his crotch jerked and his crotch ached.
Alas, I am such an unlucky senator, what can I do there? How does a scholar like him cope with the complicated network there? Isn't the future like the mountain road of Jianmen, full of clouds?
In front, a scholar-like man came up with a paulownia umbrella and bowed slightly to make way for civil servants riding donkeys.
Look up at the sky.
Yes, learning is useless. I haven't written poetry for a long time. Busy with war and official business every day, of course, I have no time, and more importantly, I am not in the mood. Isn't it like being a prime minister in Tang Zhaozong? Someone asked him what poems he had written recently, and he replied: Poems are on the back of a snowy donkey in Baqiao, where did they come from?
Yes, the poem is on the donkey's back, not beside the box!
Am I not on the donkey's back now?
Yes, don't many poets write poems on the back of donkeys? Needless to say, there were Li Taibai and Du Shaoling, and later Li He and Jia Dao. Which have the experience of writing poems on the donkey's back?
How can I forget that I am a poet?
Isn't it now "riding a donkey into the sword door in the drizzle" Is there a better way than this?
Yes, this drizzle is so affectionate, and this Xiao Lv is so interesting.
Then in the winter of 1 172, an official disappeared and a poet was born.
two
Aesthetics is not only an aesthetic way, but also a way of life.
Lu You's poems can be interpreted in many ways. Perhaps people are used to interpreting it as Lu You's helpless sigh that he can only be a poet. I never dare to say that this is wrong, but I always think: what is a poet in the gap between secularism and utilitarianism? Why in our interpretation, the official's land tour is always more important than the poet's land tour? The appearance of aesthetic activities is precisely the forgetting of one's social role, the transcendence of one's utilitarian secular purpose, and the moment when people stop pursuing and start non-utilitarian reflection. This is exactly what the great philosopher Kant called "the beauty of freedom" in Critique of Judgment. The realm of beauty is freedom, which is a way to transcend the imperfection and suffering of reality. This transcendence began with the poet's self-awakening.
In other words, aesthetics begins at the moment when people start asking "Who am I?". . I am nobody, I am myself, and I can enjoy my existence. I am not a symbol, not a role, but a free appreciator and existence.
Poets are the awakening of this mediocre and busy world.
Poets are deconstructionists of various symbols and structures.
A poet is a free man who transcends utility.
What is a poet?
The poet has nothing to do.
three
I can't change anything in the face of suffering or reality, but I can change my attitude and my mood. I can strike matches myself. "'She wants to warm up,' people say. No one knows: what wonderful things she has seen, and how glorious she is to go to the happiness of the New Year with her grandmother. "
This is illusory satisfaction. Who says not? Isn't art an illusory satisfaction? I shed my own tears in other people's stories.
But who can deny this non-utilitarian aesthetic need?
I remember that Pav Ustovsky, a writer of the former Soviet Union, wrote an essay novel in Selected Works of Pav Ustovsky, about a blind old man who wanted to see the garden he loved when he was young before he died. A stranger who happened to pass by "satisfied" his request-improvised a beautiful tune for him, and let the old man "see" the garden full of flowers. Excited and gratified, the old man asked the kind passerby his name, and the stranger told him his name was Mozart.
Yes, the reality is incomplete and broken, but aesthetics can bring people into a beautiful and solemn realm. You can't exclude this realm just because it's not the real world. In that case, what's the difference between people and animals?
The function of aesthetics is useless, which is what Aristotle called "Tasis" in Poetics. Mr Luo Niansheng translated it as "edifying".
When all useless scholars begin to wake up, poetry spreads its wings, and it is also the human soul that begins to comfort itself and lead us back to our hometown and spiritual hometown. There, everything stopped, everything flowed again, and we stopped to smell the roses that we had never smelled before. Oh, flowers are so beautiful, clouds are so beautiful, and even an unexpected rain is so beautiful.
In The Golden Rose, Pa (Ba) Ustovsky defined the author's hard work as a "golden rose" forged with gold scraps left by others. Whoever gets this golden rose will get happiness.
Why not stop and smell the roses?
Why not get on the thin donkey and go to Jianmen in the drizzle?