Those of us who have studied Mr. Fujino all know the life of Mr. Lu Xun: When we were studying in Japan, we watched current affairs documentaries, and what we saw was that China people were "numb-faced" and looked at their compatriots being executed with indifference. Deeply stimulated, Mr. Lu Xun felt that medicine was not "urgent" and advocated "literary movement" to "change qi", so he turned to abandon medicine and follow literature, with pen as the blade and ink as the front, in order to wake up.
After Lu Xun returned to China, the pre-war history was blank for most people. It seems that every great genius has a period of silence. In the face of this decadent old society, he was sober and disgusted, silent and depressed, so he had to "hide in a small building without asking about the spring and autumn." Every day, his eyes are only copying historical sites, compiling inscriptions and proofreading ancient books. This is not depression, but silence as a sign of contempt when there is no future in sight.
So, how did his first work, China's first vernacular novel "Diary of a Madman" come into being? There is a slight record in the preface to Scream: an old friend Jin Xinyi (Qian) often visited Mr. Lu Xun, turned over the manuscripts he wrote every day at that time, questioned "what's the use of copying these" and advised "you can write some articles". Taking the metaphor of "awakening the sleepers in the iron house" as an example, the two discussed whether to keep silent, so that those who are "from lethargy to death" will not feel the sorrow of death, or whether to raise a cry and awaken a sober minority to "bear the irreparable pain of dying".
"However, since several people have come up, you can't say that there is no hope of destroying this iron house." Even if there was only a glimmer of hope, Mr. Lu Xun decided to be a crybaby, comforting those lonely warriors and making him "not afraid of his predecessors."
On the occasion of the 0/00th anniversary of the founding of China * * *, I was lucky enough to watch the wonderful clip of A Madman's Diary created by Mr. Lu Xun. The image of Lu Xun in the book and the creative scene in the preface of Scream were highly restored under the lens.
I especially like this passage, whether it's lens editing, character building, scene switching or music rendering, it brings us back to the scene where Mr. Lu Xun was writing at his desk more than 0/00 years ago. Without lines, the audience listened to the thunder in a quiet place, as if suddenly hearing Mr. Lu Xun's heartfelt cry of shock.
Try to describe this image in words:
"Why do you want to kill me! Why did you kill me! " Watching my cousin Jiusun cry for help crazily, he was forcibly taken back by his friends and sent to the hospital. Lu Xun's eyes are like torches, as if there were two flames spewing with anger. He closed his lips and angrily smashed the rising console table to the ground. His mouth trembled slightly, and his eyes were full of pent-up pain and resentment.
There seems to be a fierce spirit in his chest. Mr. Lu Xun picked up a pen and paper and stood in front of the carved console table. He held the manuscript paper in his left hand, punched his backhand in his waist, and put the pen on the console table in his right hand. While rubbing, he looked down at Guan Yu on the relief. He spread his right thumb, wiped the dragon crescent moon blade over and over again, turned and sat on the cane chair, spread the manuscript paper on his right leg, sometimes bent over to read, and sometimes looked up and meditated. The slender wolf pen is tightly held at the fingertips, and the arrow is generally ready to go; The elbow of the right hand holding the pen is supported on the knee for a long time.
Over time, Mr. Wang is like a freeze frame. His frowning brows twisted into swords on his forehead, but his thoughts passed through this carved window lattice, through the courtyard of this quadrangle, through the alley on the street corner, and directly hit the picture of numbness and ignorance on the street corner: the executioner who wielded the knife coldly, the children who were numb on the sidelines, and the people who flocked forward to compete for human blood steamed bread ... Suddenly, Mr. Lu Xun tilted his head and shot two sharp edges at the desktop.
The night is getting deeper and deeper, and there is a dead silence around. In the dark night, only the oil lamp on Mr. Lu Xun's desk was burning with cold light.
As Mr. Wang wrote in Hot Wind, if there is no torch fire afterwards, I will be the only light.
China's first modern vernacular novel was born under the guidance of this light, and a cry broke out, awakening generations of China people who refused to give in.
This article commemorates the deeply respected Mr. Lu Xun.