Collection of Luo Dagang (Volumes 1-4)

Author: Luo Dagon / Country:
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2004-03-01
Features: Literature and art are a special form of ideology, or a special manifestation of ideology. At all levels of the superstructure, literature and art stand at the highest level, as the superstructure of the superstructure, and are the most precious and most magnificent part of human culture, while also being most fragile and vulnerable. Literature and art are the direct expression of the purest crystallization of people's inner emotional qualities. They express the most vital center of a living person in their entire body. Even in primitive societies with relatively difficult living conditions, literary (oral) and artistic activities had not only sprouted but also developed quite extensively. Primitive humans were rich in literary and artistic talent. Before humans had demonstrated their scientific talents, they had already shown such remarkable literary and artistic talent. This deserves deep reflection. Some theorists believe that literature and art are the product of the conflict between ideal and reality, a rebellion of ideal against reality; in a certain sense, literary and artistic creators are opponents and rebels of the real society. The conflict between ideal and reality can never be reconciled, and the conflict between literary and artistic creators and the real society can also never be resolved. Once resolved, there would be no literature and art in the world. This argument sounds very strange and outdated, and it seems that no one thinks or says this today. In fact, the theory of the eternal contradiction between reality and ideal still has its market today. This is one of the reasons why sometimes negative works with very obvious destructive effects appear in our literary circles. When we emphasize "literature is art," we do not advocate the theory of the eternal contradiction between reality and ideal. On the contrary, we firmly oppose the outdated and erroneous view that the eternal contradiction between ideal and reality, or the eternal contradiction between the individual and the collective, is the source of creative passion in literature and art. The key lies in the stance. First, it is necessary to clarify what "reality" and "ideal" are. In a society where reactionaries are in power, the contradiction between such reality and the lofty ideal of literature and art is only natural. Such a contradiction is an antagonistic contradiction and cannot be easily resolved. Because the essence of this contradiction is the contradiction between the reactionary regime and the masses, it is perfectly justified for literature and art to stand on the side of the masses and fight against the reactionaries. If, under the correct political line led by scientific socialism, some individualistic literary and artistic creators resist selfishly, this is a contradiction between the correct reality and the incorrect "ideal," and it is also an antagonistic contradiction that cannot be resolved through compromise. Such literary and artistic creators, who stand on the side against the people, will inevitably be rejected by the masses in the end. The opinions of the masses are the main basis for drawing the correct conclusion. Under the correct political line, even literary and artistic creators with pure attitudes may be dissatisfied with certain realistic issues. Politics seeks to solve practical problems closely tied to specific conditions at a given time and place and cannot be free from the limitations of time, place, and conditions. It cannot, like literature and art, primarily consider issues from a macro perspective of thoughts and emotions, so there are sometimes differences in views between politics and literature and art. Differences are contradictions. However, this contradiction is not antagonistic and cannot be resolved through antagonistic means. Because under the correct leadership of ideological consciousness, politics and literature and art share a common basic stance and common language, that is, everyone works for the interests of the masses. It must be stated that we raise the proposition "literature is art" and analyze and discuss it here, absolutely not to defend the individualism of "art for art's sake" in literature, nor to defend the aestheticism of literary creators in the "ivory tower." Specifically, we are not defending the Balsamine school of France in the second half of the 19th century, nor the aesthetic tendencies of Symbolist poetry that followed it; of course, we are not defending the abstract poetry, nihilistic literature and art, and formalist literary theories that sprouted like bamboo shoots after World War II ended in 1945; absolutely not defending the new-style ivory towers that constantly appear in the world today, whether in the West or the East. I know that even in my country, where access to world literary information is not very extensive, there are still many people who defend the new-style ivory towers of literature and art, and that is their freedom. We raise the proposition "literature is art," precisely to oppose them, not to defend them. This is our freedom. We can present our respective reasons, but they must be expressed in clear and explicit language and with an open and honest attitude. Here, I raise the view that "literature is art," which is both a commonplace and a very important one, not to suggest that politics cannot intervene in literature or that politics cannot make beneficial demands on literature for the people's cause. Since valuable literature is intended to serve the masses, there is no reason for it to refuse specific demands from politics for the people's service. A noble literary creator, seeing himself as part of the masses, has no reason to oppose politics when it asks him to complete a specific task, however small, for the benefit of the masses. For a talented literary creator, the most important mission is naturally to create immortal masterpieces that will live for generations. However, completing a negligible small task for the people's cause, such as writing a small report on promoting a new policy, is also an obligation. In short, for the cause of the people, we have no reason to oppose politics directing literature, but we must understand that literature is art, an objective fact, and must intervene in literature according to the objective laws of literature as an art, rather than treating literature as a general form of ideology, such as general comments in newspapers, and then issuing commands to it. In recent years, we have grasped the objective laws of economic affairs and achieved brilliant achievements in the economic field by adhering to these laws. Why can't we deeply study the laws of literature itself as an art and then act according to these laws? Our socialist literary cause may also greatly flourish, and great writers and great works will continue to emerge. As an art, literature, what objective laws does it have? The study of the objective laws of art falls within the scope of aesthetics. I lack systematic research in aesthetics and can only offer some superficial opinions based on common sense for your reference. A well-known aesthetic law is that art must constantly innovate. Innovation is the most basic law of artistic creation. Since this principle is well known, there is no need to elaborate on it here. Below, I will discuss two issues: (1) creative psychology; (2) the emotional power of art, that is, the objective influence of art. Literary creators must draw nourishment from the life and struggles of the masses in their creative work. The objective existence of the life, production struggles, and class struggles of the masses at the time and place is the source of themes and subjects for literary and artistic creation. Even the "ivory tower" cannot avoid its roots in the earth. This is certain. However, literary and artistic creation is not a mere imitation of the various phenomena of people's life and struggles, transferred to paper, or a simple copy of a "gourd." The ideological source of literary creation is not newspaper editorials, not the lengthy writings of theorists, nor the well-known and universally accepted big principles, but the creative passion that has been digested and ripened in the author's heart. This passion is the direct material for creation. A French-language writer from Belgium wrote a book on literary translation, in which he offered many insightful observations. He said, "Do not despise translation, what is 'Traductoretraditore'?" (Italian: "The translator is a traitor"). Without translation, there would be no literary creation at all. Because human inner activity cannot be directly expressed in words, the verbal expression of inner states is merely a form of translation. Therefore, the transformation of literature from "heart" to "word" is a process of translation. To be honest, there can be no lack of "betrayal" in this process, that is, there can be no differences or variations from the original. The issue lies in art, sacred art. Art can make the result of translation more beautiful and brilliant than the original. We say, "Literature is art," and literature is art from beginning to end, which also includes this meaning. However, many comrades, upon hearing that literary creation is initially a form of translation, may frown, disbelieve, and be dissatisfied. But the fact is indeed so—what can be done? Creative psychology holds that the inner passion of the author, under the intense heat of fervor, melts into a rhythm, a melody. The author, like a composer, weaves the inner melody into a tune, thus creating the work. This shows that the thoughts and emotions felt by the author from real life are transformed into creative passion, and then from passion, the author experiences musicality (melody), and finally composes this musicality into a tune using written language, creating a work rich in artistry. This is a multi-layered and painstaking labor. The formation of a work not only requires complex and arduous spiritual labor but also, among ten literary works, only one or two may truly possess strong artistic charm and be successful. Do not regard artistic creation as easy as writing general comments. The creative process of the author can be compared to the silkworm spinning silk. The silkworm chews and swallows the mulberry leaves whole. Inside the silkworm's body, the crushed mulberry leaves are digested into a viscous liquid, which is excreted through fine pores and solidifies into silk when it comes into contact with the air. What the author feels from real life is not the sweetest part; these places are no more attractive than others. However, in those places, the land is most plain, most humble, and most approachable, and the language used is most intimate and most familiar. People always deeply cherish their hometowns, so they often find advantages in the shortcomings of their homeland, turning ordinary things into extraordinary ones, even if they are indeed ordinary, they remain very lovable: "This is the department in central France where the Shangnan family lived and thrived. The land is flat and damp, and the sleepy small town reflects its dull face in the murky water of a stagnant canal." (Ibid.) The appearance of this canal makes it impossible to deny that the former home of the Shangnan family and the former home of the Roland family were almost identical in shape. "The Shangnan family has always lived in this place, and the history of this family has always been traceable to the 16th century in nearby small towns, because, inevitably, there was a great-uncle who dedicated his life to compiling the genealogy of this obscure, hardworking family. Their ancestors were farmers, tenant farmers, rural craftsmen, followed by clerks, employees, and rural notaries, and then they moved to the county to settle." (Approx. 830) The genealogy of the Roland family is basically the same as the family tree of the Shangnan family in the novel by Roman Roland: "On the paternal side, there were five generations of notaries: Jean-Baptiste, Jacques Michel, Michel Jacques, Emile Roland, my father; in addition, there was my great-grandfather Bonia, my grandmother's father." "On the maternal side, the Guro family (Gil) were farmers for several generations; then, there were four generations of blacksmiths and three generations of notaries." (Ibid.) Notaries are public officials appointed by the government, but at the same time, like lawyers, they are a form of freelance profession. When the father grows old, he can pass the position to his son, or he can sell the business license for a price. Notaries are different from lawyers; they do not represent people in lawsuits but draw up contracts, manage property, execute wills, and so on. All documents must be signed and certified by a notary to be legally effective. The duties of notaries are mainly based on the preservation and transfer of private property; they are indispensable advisors and witnesses for the bourgeoisie. As for the working people, they have no private property at all, so they have no need for notaries. As small-town petty bourgeoisie gradually declined and became wage earners who struggled to make ends meet with sweat, while wealthier families moved in droves to big cities, the notaries in the small town were bound to face dwindling business and empty doors. The Roland family finally bid farewell to their hometown, but in reality, they were bidding farewell to the hereditary profession of notaries. On the surface, it seemed as if the decision was made by the individual, but in reality, it was the changing and developing society, the trend of the times, that made it inevitable. In the unpublished private archives of Roman Roland, people discovered an interesting small note, on which was written: "I promise my mother that I will do everything in my power to prepare for the entrance exam to the prestigious école Polytechnique." Below the signature: Roman Roland. From the handwriting, this note was likely written shortly after the family moved to Paris. This note raises many issues. First, it shows how much Roland's mother longed for her son to pass the entrance exam to the famous école Polytechnique, hoping to improve the family's situation later. Although Roland's hometown is so memorable in his memories, his childhood there was not happy. The chapter titled "The Cage" in his memoir "The Inner Journey" symbolizes his melancholic childhood life. He was once a little mouse trapped in a cage. "I am a prisoner!" This is the most vivid impression of his life. In Clamart, there is a legend: when King Francis I entered the Saint-Martin Church there, he said, "What a cage!" The author of "The Inner Journey" admits: "I lived in this cage then." The "prison" of childhood life, according to Roland's own memories, had three walls. The first wall is called "visual impressions." The child often sat in the small courtyard of the former home, surrounded by high walls or houses on three sides and a low wall half a person's height on the other side. Outside the wall was the canal, and the base of the wall was already submerged in water.