Looking back

Author: Liu Hefang
Publisher:
Publishing Date: 2006-01-01
Features: Liu Hefang, who is about to enter his eighties, has finally published his collection of works. Reading his prose and poetry collection evokes an extraordinary sense of joy in my heart. I have a deep connection with the Liu family. Over twenty years ago, when I was a naive middle school student, Liu's wife, Ms. Wang Guanghui, was my teacher. Ms. Wang's slightly fast-paced Mandarin with a southern accent remains to this day. Liu's second son, Liu Yi, and I both graduated from Yinchuan No. 1 High School and were both "victors" of the Ningxia college entrance exam in literature (in 1980 and 1981). Later, I studied Chinese at Peking University while Liu Yi studied law, and we both experienced the spring breeze by the Weiming Lake and the deep autumn hues by the Biaoyu Tower. After graduate school, I returned to Ningxia to serve in my "second hometown," while Liu Yi went abroad for studies and later returned to serve his country. Due to these reasons, I regard Liu Hefang as a father figure. However, my in-depth interaction with him began only in the past five or six years. Like many who work with words, we first became acquainted with each other through our writings before meeting in person. Thus, in our unrestrained and devoted conversations, we developed a cherished, age-defying bond. As a result, when I saw Liu Hefang's collection titled "Looking Back," my heart swelled with joy.
The late writer Sun Li had a saying that prose is the most suitable genre for the elderly and relatively easy to create masterpieces. The reason lies in the fact that for many creators in their later years, decades of life's hardships and sorrows often accumulate into a rich reservoir of life, emotions, and aesthetic experience, which, when expressed in writing, often become outstanding works. Interpreting Liu Hefang's prose through Sun Li's lens, it holds true. Upon careful reading, most of the works in this prose and poetry collection were created in the past two decades. Liu was born in 1927, so his peak creative period coincided with his sixties. While I don’t rule out the impact of turbulent times and his long career as an editor (how willing he was to "make wedding dresses for others" as a good editor!), I prefer to believe that Liu had long surpassed the era of "writing for sentiment." His prose is the natural expression of a man who has weathered historical storms and life's trials, a look back after witnessing the full spectrum of human joy and sorrow. Thus, reflective narratives form the most abundant and enduring chapters in this collection.
We see how the various boats bustling on the vast river bring joy and imagination to a young boy (in "Riverside"), how the riverbank in Anqing becomes the paradise of grandmother and the haven of children (in "Grandmother's Paradise"), how the little flower bag of the aunt in the eyes of a young boy is mysterious and alluring, yet a shallow strait delays the reunion of loved ones by nearly half a century (in "Parting Is Harder Than Meeting"), and how an old eight-immortals table, used by four generations of a family, carries the sorrow of the mother's early widowhood and the images of three generations studying by candlelight (in "The Table’s Affection").
For many, memories are a heartfelt journey back to the past. In reminiscence, we not only relive those tender memories but also, due to the transformation of our hearts, find the past years clearer and more serene. Like an aged wine that has filtered out its former clamor and froth, leaving behind a mellow and rich sweetness, reading Liu Hefang’s deeply emotional reflective essays often evokes such aesthetic pleasure.
Among Liu Hefang’s works that touch on past lives, two groups deserve special attention. The first is the "Reminiscences of Southern Anhui" series, including "Turbulent Times Remembered," "Dreaming Back to Youth," "Recalling Friends at Chengtian Temple," "True Affection Exists in the World," "Meeting Friends Through Literature," "Emotion Converges at the Pen," "A Historian Writes History," "My Journey with 'Star Sea'," and more. These essays primarily recall the unforgettable years Liu spent in Tunxi, a historic city in southern Anhui, especially the creation and publication of the literary journal "Star Sea," which holds significant historical value. Yet, these essays are more than just historical records. In my view, the deep affection poured into these writings, the passion of youth during the war years, and the idealism and optimism they radiate are enough to move us deeply today.
The second group of noteworthy essays in "Looking Back" is the "Literary World Reminiscences" series, including "The Summer Xian I Knew," "More About Comrade Xian Yan," "Remembering Comrade Xian Yan," "Three Visits to Bing Xin," "My Interactions with Mr. Zhou Erfu," "A Letter Inspired by an Article—Remembering Mr. Ge Baoquan," "On Ru Zhijuan and Her Works," and "Rereading the Manuscript of You Jing—Reflections on 'Spring Blossoms, Autumn Leaves.'" These essays either recall the close interactions between Liu and literary giants or depict his deep engagement with female writers like Bing Xin while organizing the large-scale literary journal "Female Writers." They also express sorrow for the passing of the younger generation among the literary elders. When writing these essays, Liu seemed to exert little effort, simply narrating as if in a friendly evening chat around a hearth. Yet, I would argue that these works deeply moved me. They vividly bring to life figures like Bing Xin, Xian Yan, and Zhou Erfu with authentic and lively prose. Thus, Bing Xin’s sincerity and kindness, Xian Yan’s wide interests and versatility, and Zhou Erfu’s scholarly demeanor unexpectedly appear before our eyes and resonate with readers.
The ancients had a saying about writing, "Deep feelings, simple appearance; short words, profound emotions." The "Literary World Reminiscences" series fully deserves such praise.
Liu Hefang spent his life as an editor. Based on my observation, the Ningxia People’s Publishing House is home to a group of outstanding senior editors, and Liu is no exception. I believe an excellent editor should not only possess sensitivity in creativity and topic selection but also have substantial academic knowledge and strong writing skills. Examining Liu Hefang’s work, I find that a group of essays in this collection about Mr. Lu Xun (including "Pleased to Read Lu Xun’s Poems," "Lu Xun and Stamp Collecting," "Xu Guangping and the 'Lu Xun Research Annual'," "Xu Guangping and the 'Lu Xun Reminiscence'," "Lu Xun and Illustration Art," "Lu Xun and Children’s Literature," "Lu Xun and Li Liewen," "Lu Xun and 'Zhongliu'," and "The Battle Friendship Between Lu Xun and Mao Dun") demonstrates Liu’s profound academic.
After 1949, "Lu Xun Studies" became a prominent field. Research articles on Lu Xun’s life, thought, and literary creation are abundant. As a researcher of modern and contemporary Chinese literature, I have accumulated a certain amount of reading in Lu Xun studies. Yet, Liu Hefang’s short essays in "Looking Back" still evoke my admiration. Not for any other reason, but because they are so small, so endearing. For years, academic circles have favored grand-scale works. Studying such a literary "giant" as Lu Xun seems to demand even more emphasis on the "grand." Who would willingly take on the unassuming "small" role? Liu Hefang, however, is different. As a devotee and researcher of Lu Xun and his literary career, his research mindset is relaxed, and his approach is unique. He discusses Lu Xun’s passion for stamp collecting, his deep study of illustration art, and his dedication to children’s literature creation and publishing. He talks about Lu Xun’s relationship with the "Shanghai Daily" and the literary journal "Zhongliu," as well as his friendship with the renowned editor Li Liewen of the 1930s.
Liu’s essays on Lu Xun are short, and to those who favor the "grand," they might seem unremarkable. Yet, they excellently portray Lu Xun’s rich and lovable personality, showcasing his diverse interests and deep humanity. I believe Lu Xun studies should be multi-faceted. Liu’s focus on the "small" and "specific" is indeed a distinctive research path. His Lu Xun studies in Ningxia are truly innovative.
Now, let me speak of Liu Hefang’s poetry. His poetic career began in his youth (which can be seen as the official start of his literary journey). Liu once said, "At the age of fifteen, I mistakenly stumbled into poetry and could not extricate myself" ("Random Musings—Reply to a Friend"). The poems "Singing Girl" and "River Boat" in this collection are from his mid-teens. In his youth, due to changes in times and his career (he initially worked in the Shanghai Municipal People’s Government’s Cultural and Art Office and later "went to the frontier" to become an editor at a publishing house in Ningxia), Liu’s poetic creation was paused until the new socialist period when he resumed writing poetry. Notably, most of the poems in this collection were written after the 1980s, coinciding with the peak of his prose creation. Unlike his prose, which is dominated by nostalgic and reflective themes, Liu’s poetry in the past two decades is more about a passionate engagement with reality and profound reflections on life.
Thus, on the beach of Beidaihe, we read a scholar who has weathered trials and tribulations express his surging emotions before the boundless sea (in "Beidaihe Elegy" and "Beidaihe Elegy (Continuation)"). By the banks of the Yellow River in Shuofang, under ancient towers, we hear the roar of the Yellow River conveying the voice of the new era and the melodious sound of wind chimes (in "Shuofang Scenery"). In the watercolor landscapes of Suzhou, with its small bridges, flowing water, and residences, we see scenes of ink wash paintings in varying shades (in "Suzhou Journey"). In poems like "Untitled," "I Would Like to Be a Small Grass," "Aria on Life," and "Moments of Reflection," we grasp the author’s fresh insights into life and understand many truths about existence.
Liu Hefang loves life. His heart overflows with gratitude and praise for the motherland, the people, and the new era from the older generation of intellectuals. In his poems, there is no sky overcast with dark clouds, nor the howling of fierce winds. Only heartfelt love, a bright and radiant warmth like spring, fills the verses.
Indeed, Liu’s generation has endured too much suffering and hardship. Perhaps, compared to us, they are more inclined to embrace the scenery under the sun and the vibrant wilderness of spring. Let us not blame them for their detachment from hardship or their intentional "forgetting," for perhaps it holds a profound life philosophy and untellable wisdom.
I often met Liu Hefang in his office. Several years ago, he occupied a small corner in a noisy large room. Now, he finally has a relatively quiet office. Every time I visit the publishing house, after greetings, Liu sits quietly, speaking calmly and peacefully. I often ask myself: In a noisy large office, amidst the frequent distractions of phone calls and people coming and going, could I focus on my work without distraction? The answer is: no. Yet, Liu silently edited issue after issue of "Publishing Dynamics" in such an environment. Thus, I understand why Liu Hefang’s prose and poetry are always imbued with gentleness.
Yes, compared to my generation, Liu’s generation has experienced too much of the world’s hardships and sorrows. However, when they transform their life experiences and inner turmoil into literary creation, their words often flow with moving tenderness. They always observe life with a kind heart and narrate it with gratitude. In Liu Hefang’s writings, there is none of the self-pity and gray pessimism that defines my generation. Only a kind heart perceives the beauty of life and the beauty of humanity. In his aesthetic world, the struggles and sorrows of life are diminished and softened. All hardships, misfortunes, sorrows, and griefs are merely a wisp of clouds in the clear sky or the shadow of a small tree under the sun. Thus, the vicissitudes and sorrows of life are no longer troubles in the heart but the dawn’s cry announcing the end of darkness.