The past is not like smoke

Author: Zhang Yihuo
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2004-01-01
Features: This book is a fragment of my memories of the past, but it is not a complete memoir. Once, precious and rare personal activities were memories. Because it was a more secure way to preserve social truth than diaries or letters. Many people were hurt and frightened, destroying all their private written records, and in the process, they erased their genuine memories of the past. As a result, history became unclear and was rewritten at an unbelievable speed. Such "memories" are like holding sand in your hands—they slip through your fingers so quickly. People in the past believed everything, but then suddenly they didn’t believe anything at all. Why is this? It may be that we have long avoided and refused to face the truth. In my life, I have experienced the trilogy of heaven, hell, and the human world. At most, it was just a lonely life with no meaning or value. I picked up the pen to find a reason and strength to continue living, to save my heart that was about to wither. But at the moment I picked up the pen, I realized the uselessness of language and the powerlessness of words. They seemed to never be able to describe the love and joy, as well as the suffering and grievances in a person’s heart. In the silence of me sitting alone in the silence of the night, the shadows of life would unexpectedly appear, tears would well up in my eyes, and when I picked up the pen, the tears would flow endlessly, with no solution—it had become an illness. Because, a simple word often hides countless heartaches in cold nights. I think, being able to grieve is also a right. The past is like smoke, yet the past is not like smoke. I merely recorded what I saw, remembered, and thought, totaling six essays that involved eight people (excluding my parents). Some of them were profound as the sea, while others were shallow as streams. The former, like Luo Longji and Nie Guangnu, the latter, like Pan Su and Luo Yifeng. They were talented, virtuous, and capable, each with ambitions as high as the sky but destinies as fragile as paper. Some things could be said but not seen, or seen but not thought about. In fact, whether noble or humble, and whether successful or not, people should neither become saints nor suffer contempt. The book is dedicated to my parents. They are far away in heaven, looking at me with pity and kindness. Zhang Yihuo
August 21, 2003, at Shouyu Studio