Chapter 730: Neck Pain Written in an Article
“I also said a few words.” Fang Minghua repeated the key points of his speech at that time.
Xichuan fell into silence after listening.
Yes
Poetry nowadays is no longer popular among the people as it was before, but has gradually become something for people in a small circle to entertain themselves.
Have you seen how many days we spent on the university campus reading poems written by others or ourselves aloud on the lawn or in the dormitory? Those good times have disappeared.
Nowadays, college students watch movies and videos, play games, some play guitar and sing campus folk songs, and read martial arts novels. But these have nothing to do with poetry.
"To be honest, I have read some of the views of both of you. In fact, both have merits, but they also have their own problems. "Intellectual writing" places too much emphasis on dramatic expression and lacks cohesion, which is sometimes inconsistent with Disconnection with social reality."
Although Nishikawa belongs to the "intellectual writing" school, Fang Minghua was not polite when speaking in front of him.
“Of course, “folk writing” has more problems. The colloquial writing that Yu Jian, Han Dong, and others have always advocated, in the end is writing with saliva, writing with the lower body, and in the end, all the shit and shit come out!”
Xi Chuan did not dare to interrupt, but listened carefully.
"Originally I didn't want to say this, but Xichuan, since you are here and asked me to write something about poetry, then I will write something." Fang Minghua finally said.
Nishikawa was immediately overjoyed.
Finally, Fang Minghua is invited to come out!
After chatting for a while, Xichuan was about to leave. Fang Minghua enthusiastically persuaded him to stay: "What's the rush? I won't leave until after dinner in the afternoon."
"No, Minghua, I'm still at the Academy of Fine Arts and have made an appointment with a few students to discuss ink painting." Nishikawa said with a smile.
“Oh, I forgot, you are still a painter.” Fang Minghua said with a smile.
“You’re joking, what kind of painter am I? It’s just a personal hobby, just graffiti.” Nishikawa is very humble.
Finally Xichuan left, and Fang Minghua sent him outside.
Looking at his back, Fang Minghua suddenly remembered an interesting phenomenon.
In the literary world of this era, novel writers like to practice calligraphy and writing, and poets like to paint
Bei Dao, Duoduo, Mang Ke, Ouyang Jianghe, Xichuan, and Xu Demin are relatively good at painting, and they even held art exhibitions.
Hmm.
I like writing, but I just want to do calligraphy exhibitions and sell calligraphy like Jia Pingwa does.
After seeing off Xi Chuan, Fang Minghua was not in a hurry to go to the post office to send the novel he wrote. Instead, he was thinking about the conversation he had just had with Xi Chuan.
Since you want to write, just write a good article.
Fang Minghua took a sip of the slightly cold tea and thought slowly.
"My clothes are wet due to the apricot blossom rain
The willow wind is not cold on my face."
Time flies to late March, and it is the time of beautiful spring in Xijing City.
In this kind of weather, it is very pleasant to go hiking in Cuihua Mountain, go fishing in Fenghe River, or even go a little further to see rapeseed flowers in the Tianhan area on the other side of the Qinling Mountains.
But during this period, Fang Minghua locked himself in his study, basically never leaving the door. He even declined several invitations from Jia Pingwa, Bai Miao and others to go fishing.
That Friday, Bai Miao called Fang Minghua and asked him to go fishing with Jia Pingwa in the Feng River in the morning, but he declined. The next day, only Jia Pingwa and him made the trip.
"Pingwa, Minghua, what are cats doing at home these days? Could they be surfing the Internet? I heard that surfing the Internet is addictive." Sitting on the bank of the river, Bai Miao looked at the floating water fishing line in the boat, chatting with Jia Pingwa.
"Online? No, haven't you heard that he often complains that the current Internet speed is too slow? It's like a snail crawling?" Jia Pingwa took a puff of a cigarette and said slowly: "I guess What is he writing? "Huh? It's rare to see someone writing an article so seriously that he doesn't even like fishing." Bai Miao said with a smile, "I'll go take a look and see if he can write anything else." A masterpiece of the world.”
“Let’s go and take a look at it then.”
“Finally finished.”
In the study room, Fang Minghua looked at the dense words on the screen, stood up and stretched out his arms. He lay back and rubbed his stiff neck again.
As expected, time is not forgiving, and my neck first becomes uncomfortable after writing for a long time.
At this time, Song Tangtang opened the door and walked in. Seeing him, he said angrily: "Is your neck no longer uncomfortable? Sit down and I will rub it for you."
After saying that, he came behind Fang Minghua, and very She massaged his neck skillfully.
"Wow, it feels so good." Fang Minghua closed his eyes slightly, almost moaning from the comfort.
"Tangtang, your massage technique is really good."
"Of course, I went to Dr. Chen Genhong to learn it." Song Tangtang sounded a little proud.
Chen Genhong is the founder of Baihua Chen's Traditional Chinese Medicine Bone-setting Physiotherapy Shop, which lives in the northern suburbs of Xijing. Her ancestral home is Jingyang County, Qin Province. When she was young, she learned the knowledge and skills of Traditional Chinese Medicine bone-setting from her father, which is a standard family tradition. Push-pull massage is very famous in Xijing, and many leaders come to him for massage.
Liters who write often suffer from cervical spondylosis, and Fang Minghua was no exception. He went to get a massage several times. The effect was good, but there were too many people queuing up, and it was relatively far away in the northern suburbs.
Song Tangtang was introduced by a friend and took the time to study, regardless of spending a lot of money, so that Fang Minghua could enjoy attentive service at home.
My wife is really kind to me.
"Minghua, have you finished writing? My sister-in-law said that when a man turns thirty-five, his body functions begin to decline. You can't always lie in front of the computer typing like you do now, and you need to move regularly. I'll accompany you to play badminton later. My sister-in-law said this is good for moving the cervical spine and shoulders!" Song Tangtang said while massaging.
"I won't go, I won't go." Fang Minghua refused: "Playing badminton with you? Aren't I looking for abuse?"
No way, my wife not only likes to dance, but also has sports talent, playing badminton and table tennis. Better than him, even going to the billiards hall to play Slok is worse than him. Fang Minghua feels inferior to him in this aspect.
"Then let's go out for a walk. We can't just sit here forever!" Song Tangtang said.
"Don't worry, I've finished writing. I don't plan to write anything recently. I'm too tired." Fang Minghao replied.
“Is it really finished?” Song Tangtang asked.
"Of course, a total of 60,000 words! This is the longest article I have written on literary theory."
"Wow, I wrote 60,000 words? Isn't that enough to publish a book?" Song Tangtang was surprised .
She knew that Fang Minghua had been writing about poetry theory recently, and said it was a manuscript for "End of the World". She didn't expect that it would be so long!
“Let me take a look at what you wrote.” After speaking, Song Tangtang picked up the mouse on the table.
"Hey, hold on for a while, I'm not feeling comfortable enough yet." Fang Minghua said quickly.
"I'll make you comfortable tonight." Song Tangtang said casually, looking at the screen.
The title of the article soon appeared:
“Why so much trouble?—The debate between “folks” and “intellectuals”
(End of this chapter)