Terroir Notes

Author: Wen Zaidao/ Country:
Publisher:
Publishing Date: 1998-12-01
Features: In our daily lives, we might need a bit of change and enjoyment, like flowing clouds and flowing water, with patterns, waves, light, and sound. However, there is also a condition, which is restraint. That unrestrained indulgence of "drinking today's wine today" is definitely not a healthy lifestyle. So, let's end the joys and sorrows of history and face reality, taking life seriously. In recent years, due to environmental constraints, the custom of setting off firecrackers has been banned. In the past, it would be a continuous burst of "pa-pa" sounds overnight. At this time, thousands of households light candles, with double candles burning high, as people come to welcome the arrival of spring in the world with reverence and solemnity! Looking up at the sparks twinkling and dancing in the night sky, it truly brings great joy. However, Mr. Lu Xun believed that the Chinese invented gunpowder, but its use was only for worshiping gods, while Europeans used it to make guns and cannons. Comparing the two, it reveals our decline and uselessness. But I think the ideal and noblest use of gunpowder is still returning to setting off firecrackers. During the New Year or festivals, let children play with them freely and boldly as toys, adding a touch of excitement and joy to the lives of the common people in the "pa-pa" sounds. Whether for worshiping gods or for decoration, whether as a waste of resources, it is always better than making weapons of war. If you ask me what my wish is for the New Year's Day of the 32nd year of the Republic of China, the answer would be: a wish for a day when we can enjoy setting off firecrackers freely, like children, even if it means getting burned, which we would gladly endure. After a light rain, the sky looks a bit gloomy, perhaps a sign of snow to come. After dinner, under a cold lamp, I can't help but recall the old saying, "reading forbidden books in a snowy night with closed doors." This leads me to think of the phrase "On the Night of High Studio Wind and Rain," which further deepens my longing for night reading. Unfortunately, what I remember are only fragments, almost taking things out of context—. However, on the other hand, perhaps good writing doesn't need to be overly verbose. As Du Shaojing said, "I will not rest until my words shock the world," and yet how many shocking and profound sentences can one write? For example, ancient policy papers and modern manifestos may be grand in style and resounding in rhythm, but they still leave a feeling of "even if there are many, what is the use?" Let's not digress further. Here, let's talk about night reading. Since the publication of Lu Xun's "Night Reading Notes," people have developed a deep yearning for night reading. Especially this elegant preface, reading it makes one even more inclined to enjoy the tranquility of night reading. However, night reading should logically be connected to a study, as Lu Xun said, "According to my opinion, night reading must be done in a study. We poor and busy people don't have that kind of luck, but we still take the time to read a little whenever possible." He also said that when his father was alive, he lived in his old hometown house, looking out the window at his neighbor's bamboo garden and often spoke of his wish to have a small tower, quiet and secluded, where he could read. But he finally failed to achieve his wish due to frustration and disappointment, which made one feel the hardships of a scholar's life. A person who wants to become an official or rich must rely on their fate. As for getting a small room or tower to spend their days in, and further to cultivate their own "career," it is a very simple wish. But unfortunately, being a Chinese scholar, it has become a luxury or a dream; especially in Shanghai, known as "a place where an inch of land is worth gold," it is already very difficult to even afford a decent life. However, when it comes to myself, thanks to the legacy of my ancestors, I have been relatively fortunate to have a small room to fulfill my wish for night reading. My cold study was originally named "Butcher's Chop Hall," then changed to "Star House," and now it is called "Humiliation Hall," all just to express my feelings since the chaos. In the room, there are more than ten bookshelves and a desk, with a few chairs and small tables. Also, because there is some space on the bookshelves, a few small decorations, similar to antiques, are placed there. However, their quality is poor and not worth the attention of an art connoisseur. They were bought from street stalls. Outside the window, there is a small space where sometimes you can look up and see floating clouds. It could also be used to plant some "bamboo" or, even better, white poplars. Listening to the rustling sound of the wind in the white poplars is especially intoxicating in a poetic mood, or it might just match the feeling of "Wangdang Pavilion" when it says, "When I am sad, I think of buying white poplar trees." But digging in the soil and carrying mud is too much effort, and I am too lazy to learn the elegance of this hobby. With a study, it is best to have a few more lights, and among them, a desk lamp is essential. Thank you for its clear and bright light, which adds an unexpected sense of intimacy to our night reading. In Su Dongpo's letter to Mao Weizhan, he wrote: "The year is coming to an end. The wind and rain are cold. The paper windows and bamboo houses, the dim light, sometimes here, we get a little joy, but there is no way to share it, only enjoying it alone is a shame, just a smile is enough." It can be said that it is full of literary sentiment, and even today, one still feels this desolate and melancholic atmosphere. Moreover, night reading is most suitable in autumn and winter. Spring nights are too rich and dazzling, and summer is troubled by mosquitoes. Autumn, however, gives a sense of elegance in its bleakness, and winter nights are full of wind and rain, with frost and snow, which are unique to other seasons, giving a sense of natural charm. In the past, when coal was cheap, a stove in a small room could not only provide warmth but also brew tea. An ancient poem says, "In a cold night, guests come, tea is wine." The boiling sound of the stove and the red flame at the beginning is still lingering in the memory of the blazing fire. When it gets late and hungry, simple food is taken and stewed, making both body and mind warm. In my early years in my hometown, I used to sit with my father to discuss the "Book of Han" or the "Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio." At the intersection of the eleventh and twelfth hours, we would take sheep broth to eat with porridge. After eating, I would lie down on the sofa for a short rest, sometimes until the eastern sky was bright. I thought it was also a joy of life, but unfortunately, I haven't tasted it in over ten years. However, this kind of joy can only be understood in the heart and is mostly known to those who understand it. Liu Yuxi's "Ink Room Inscription" says: "Mountains don't have to be high, just have immortals, and they will be famous. Waters don't have to be deep, just have dragons, and they will be spiritual. This is a humble room, but only my virtue is fragrant." It can be seen that even though it is a "humble room," as long as there are moss marks on the steps, grass color in the curtains, and scholars visiting rather than commoners, it is also a place of enjoyment for the poor. Later, when reading the poems of the Five Willow Scholar, there is a line, "All birds are happy to have a home, and I also love my cottage," which made me happy and amazed. I think our love for our study is also the same. Chinese scholars throughout history, whether they had a formal study or not, could not do without a name for it, and over time, many names have accumulated. A modern scholar, Chen Naiquan, compiled an "Index of Study Names," and the number of names is indeed quite impressive. For example, in the diary of Li Chenke during the late Qing Dynasty, apart from "Yue Man Tang," he had several other study names, and he often changed them, with a short preface explaining each name. In the twelfth volume of his diary, it is named "Tao Flower Holy Explanation Pavilion," where he says, "Born in winter, the winter air is cold, so my nature is cold. Influenced by autumn, the autumn season is solemn, so my nature is arrogant. Cold and arrogant, I often face obstacles and a poor fate. Poor, I seek connection. Winter is the mother of spring. Born at the end of winter, the spring air is melting, and the embryo is rooted in the spirit, so my talent is unrestrained, my emotions are deep, and my writing is like spring peaches, blooming and brilliant." He also says, "Taking Su Dongpo's words about seeing peach blossoms and having a holy understanding to name his pavilion." And his life's scholarship also benefited greatly from night reading. As for his love for books, his collection and preservation of them also showed great dedication. Even when he was poor and had to pawn his clothes and borrow money, he still did not neglect buying and reading books day or night. Today, when I occasionally open and read them, I feel even more respect and admiration despite my sadness. On July 29th, the tenth year of the Tongzhi reign, his diary describes the joy of late-night reading: "The 29th, Dingzi. Sunny, cool." (The above is omitted) In the evening, the sunset reflects on the eaves, the cool breeze brushes the ground, the locust leaves fall occasionally, and the tame magpies make sounds. I moved a table to the courtyard and drank tea, reading "The Preface to the Uncollected Works of the Four Treasuries" by Ruan Yizheng and "The Catalogue of the Collection of Books in Love Day Pavilion" by Zhang Yuexiao. Beside the table, there are several autumn begonias planted in a pottery pot, and the flowers are in full bloom. I think the joy of this moment is not inferior to the hustle and bustle of carriages and horses singing and dancing on the streets. Although I am poor and have to borrow rice, it is not enough to compensate for it. This is the true joy of seeking the pleasure of books, surpassing all else. In a letter to Shen Xiaohu (December 4th of the fourth year of the Guangxu reign), he still wanted to buy three acres of land by the West Crossover Lake Bridge in his hometown and build several houses, with three rooms on the top floor to store books. "By the window, set a table, with the left and right rooms facing the window, which can be opened to overlook the garden. On the east and west walls, set bookshelves with books, with the middle room for classics, the left for history, and the right for the collection of classics. The hard classics and the soft history, another day reading the collection of classics. The window is embedded with crystal, every morning after waking up, pulling the curtain, the morning sun fills the window, the mountains across the river float with green and green, showing their beauty, filling the room with light." The eastern Zhejiang and western Sichuan are beautiful and charming, and the central part of Yue is also known for its water and wind. Whether for a short rest or a year of leisure, the mind can naturally gain a sense of lightness and comfort. Reading Wang Yong's "Preface to the Orchid Pavilion" and Zhang Zongzi's "Dream of Tao'an" can still see the style of the time. Unfortunately, Li also failed to achieve success, as the saying goes, "Fate is full of obstacles and life is poor." Next, people are particularly prone to longing for their early fishing and hometowns. Adding childhood innocence to hometown feelings can be said to be the most precious part of human emotions, just like the tide of the sea, fluctuating and full of changes. Another advantage of night reading is that in the middle of the night, one can hear various sounds. Some are heavenly, like wind and rain, and some are artificial, like carriages and horses. At this time, if one excludes joy and sorrow, looks at the courtyard, and feels the strangeness and fantasy of nature, it is truly as if hearing sounds with the ears and seeing colors with the eyes. In Zhang Daifu's "Notes from the Plum Pavilion," Volume 1, sitting alone, he asks: "What color is the moon? What taste is the water? What sound is the wind that touches nothing? What is the fragrance of the incense in the stove?" Sitting alone under the Xian'an Pavilion, silently thinking, he felt his chest moving as if dancing but unable to speak. What is the explanation? "When all things are quietly observed, they are self-satisfied." In the world, many things are often revealed in quiet observation, in unintentional moments, the enlightenment of life's philosophy. For example, in the "Chapter on the River on the Way" in the "Analects," it shows the meaning of the impermanence of life. I often cover the book and ponder when reading a certain question, or when hearing the distant cries, I often drift into thoughts. As for the most miserable and unbearable sounds in my memory, it is the sound of an old woman selling long candles in the deep night. Suddenly hearing this long string of sounds in the still and vast night air is as if being struck on the head. This reminds me of the ghost calling in the countryside, one person calling in front and another answering behind, and most of them are from sharp female throats. Although it is only a few words, the sound of "come back" is especially heavy and oppressive, making the air suddenly serious and terrifying. At this time, the only way to relieve the burden is to run to the mother's side. Last year, when I was sick, I wrote a seven-character poem, with the last two lines saying, "I can't forget my childhood innocence, reading poetry by the small window under the moon." This is exactly the truth. Moreover, it is not just one person. When I was young, after finishing my lessons at the academy, I had to recite the books at night because I had to return them the next day. Sometimes, when encountering difficult books like the "Yu Gong," I had to read until I was in tears. However, the study faced east, and when I looked up, it was the bright moon in the sky. But at that time, I didn't understand the joy of "night reading," and besides, before reciting the books, there was a feeling of "how can such a fine time and beautiful scenery be wasted." After memorizing them, I first tried to recite them in front of my mother. In reality, my mother didn't recognize many of the characters, but she just went through the motions to see the effect in front of the teacher the next day. After struggling to recall them from memory, my mother took a spoonful of donkey hide glue from the copper cauldron and mixed it with boiling water for me to drink. It was sweet and greasy, and the doctor said it was a "winter tonic." This was also a small sweetness and bitterness of childhood. Now, I apologize for saying this with a bit of a weary tone, but I have a slight feeling of "the past is becoming more distant." Since leaving my hometown, although I have not given up night reading, I now spend some of my time writing—when it comes to writing, I remember in the "Notes on Love and Leisure" by Li Lixiong, in the section "Tolerating Dust and Filth," there is a very wonderful design: if you want to build a clean room, first set aside a place to tolerate dust and filth. Why? Those who love cleanliness, if even one thing is not in order, it is like a thorn in their eyes, and they must get rid of it. However, a person's body is prepared by all kinds of craftsmen, can we guarantee that everything is fine? As for the number of times we use the toilet, how many times a day do we not know? If we don't choose a place to leave it, then the clean place will become filth, and if we avoid cleanliness and seek filth, then we will be busy coming and going, leading the world astray. This is for ordinary people who love cleanliness. As for a scholar's writing, when they are in the midst of writing with great joy, if they are blocked, they must not continue. However, sleep and meals can be abandoned, but not the need to use the toilet. Urgency is not as urgent as private urgency, as the saying goes. When there is a good sentence and you are about to write it down, but it is blocked by the need to use the toilet; and after using the toilet, you look for it, and it is gone, I often experience this, so I have set up this urgent measure. But then how to do it? Said: "You should dig a hole in the wall next to the study, cover it with small bamboo, so that the waste stays inside and flows out, without any foul smell, as if it had never been there. Whether it is sunny or cloudy, hot or cold, you can avoid going out of the door." This may become a laughingstock when said, but it is the sweet and bitter talk of writing; a real experience. As for me, I don't want the "filth" in the room to be exposed, but when I am in the midst of inspiration and my thoughts are concentrated, if I am also rushed by the need to use the toilet, I can only pour the "white in the middle" into the copper basin in the room. At this point, I also remember that in the letter from Ji Zhongsan to Shan Tao, it says, "Every time I go to the toilet, I endure not getting up, letting it swirl a bit before getting up." Then his patience is also quite amazing. I laugh and drop the pen.