Chapter 934 Looking Back (Finale)
On December 13, 2000, Lin Weimin and his accompanying team returned home with honor and were warmly welcomed by people from all walks of life at the Capital Airport, which was packed with people.
Among them were people who came spontaneously, cadres from work units, colleagues from the literary and art circles, and Lin Weimin’s relatives and friends.
The cold wind in Yanjing in December was biting, but it did not stop everyone from welcoming Lin Weimin back to China.
Shi Tiesheng was pushed to the front of the crowd. Lin Weimin and his family were the first to see him when they walked out of the aisle. They waved to him happily, and received cheers from hundreds of people in the airport. These heartfelt cheers lingered under the dome of the Capital Airport, deafening and full of joy.
Under the arrangement of official personnel, two boys and girls presented flowers to Lin Weimin. He delivered an enthusiastic speech at the airport and accepted interviews from media reporters.
After staying at the airport for more than an hour, the welcoming crowd gradually left under the evacuation of airport security personnel, and Lin Weimin and others were finally able to leave the airport.
Lin Weimin leaned over to carry Shi Tiesheng to the car. He smiled and said, "In the past, I was always carried by the Yanbing Literature Prize winners. This is the first time I have been carried by a Nobel Prize winner."
"I'm the one who carries all the responsibility," Lin Weimin said with a smile.
After returning home, Lin Weimin briefly accepted interviews from several central media outlets before taking a rest.
In the next few days, Lin Weimin was still surrounded by various interviews and activities. The wave of Nobel Prize reports that had subsided some time ago once again formed a strong wave of public opinion after his return home with honors. After a week of cooperation, Lin Weimin decisively rejected all official invitations and activities.
For more than two months, he has been either giving interviews or participating in activities, so he finally needs to give himself a good vacation.
However, before resting, Lin Weimin still has to attend an important event.
The government is going to hold a literary and artistic symposium for him, and senior leaders will attend. Lin Weimin cannot refuse this event.
December 21st, winter solstice.
In the Yanjing Hall, the People's Hall, hundreds of important figures from the national literary and art circles gathered together to attend this literary and artistic symposium with Lin Weimin as the protagonist.
Lin Weimin has held many symposiums in the past 20 years, but this is the first time of this level.
Many participants at the meeting expressed their views on Lin Weimin's past works and literary achievements, and in such an occasion there was naturally a lot of praise.
A day later, the content of the literary and artistic symposium appeared in the new issue of People's Daily.
“…The purpose of holding the literary and artistic symposium is to have a clearer understanding of Comrade Lin Weimin and his position in the history of Chinese and world literature and in the historical context of China’s reform and opening up.
Since the 1980s, Lin Weimin's works have been widely circulated at home and abroad, and have been loved by people from all over the world, including the Chinese people. This is not only a reflection of his literary creation level, but also a result of his brilliant literary thoughts.
Over the years, the domestic reform situation has changed with each passing day. We have achieved remarkable achievements that have attracted worldwide attention, and we have also encountered various setbacks and hardships in the process. Comrade Lin Weimin's works reflect the development of our country's reform and opening up, record our achievements, and record our hardships.
But simply recording the present is far from enough for a writer.
In his works, we can see the past and present, China and the West. In Farewell My Concubine, there is a profound criticism of feudal society; in Burning, there is a satire and contempt for capitalism; in Ming Dynasty, we can see his sympathy and resonance for the common people who have cried for the rise and fall of the country for thousands of years; and through Horse Catcher, we can see his hostility and hatred for the ruling class who only know how to oppress the people.
Many of his works have lofty ideas and broad vision. They are rare classics in the history of literature of the Republic and also occupy an important position in the history of world literature.
He used his pen to write about all kinds of things in the world, both ancient and modern, both Chinese and foreign. I hope that all the literary and art workers in our literary and art circles can learn from Comrade Lin Weimin, not only his spirit, but also his unity of knowledge and action and his character.
On the cultural front, he represented the majority of the nation and stood at the forefront of those who were hostile to and looked down on the Chinese. He was not only the standard-bearer of Chinese literature in the new era, a great writer, but also the most loyal fighter of the Republic. "
Everyone who saw the content of the newspaper was astonished at the leader's high evaluation of Lin Weimin. Such an evaluation was almost on par with those deceased writers. No, it should be said that it surpassed the vast majority of deceased writers.
The official recognition and praise given to Lin Weimin is not only because of the Nobel Prize in Literature, but also because of the positive influence he has had on Chinese literature and the people over the years.
His works are well-known in China and have an influence on hundreds of millions of readers and viewers. He is the most outstanding and representative writer to emerge in the Chinese literary world since the reform and opening up.
The outside world's public opinion had little impact on Lin Weimin. After attending the literary and artistic symposium, he appeared in Yanjing Hospital.
Mr. Wan was ill and had a high fever the day after Lin Weimin returned from Europe.
When Lin Weimin arrived at the hospital, his breathing was weak and he had fallen into a coma. With an anxious look in his eyes, Lin Weimin asked, "Why didn't you tell me?"
Li Yuru said, "He said that you just won an award and he has a lot of things to do, so he doesn't want to disturb you."
Lin Weimin opened his mouth, but in the end, nothing came out.
He has been busy giving interviews and participating in activities for more than two months, and this was even more so after he went to Europe to receive an award. Yesterday, half of the domestic literary and art circles came to the literary and art symposium, but Mr. Wan did not show up. Lin Weimin then remembered to call Mr. Wan to say hello, but he got the news that Mr. Wan was ill in bed.
"What did the doctor say?"
"We can't find any problems." Li Yuru's face showed a bit of sadness.
Lin Weimin's heart skipped a beat. If the problem could be found, at least there would be a way to prescribe the right medicine. But if the problem could not be found, how could it be treated?
The calmness he had developed over the years in a high position was broken, and he felt his heart tighten and he was extremely panicked.
Mr. Wan on the hospital bed was sometimes conscious and sometimes confused. Lin Weimin stayed by his bed for several hours. In the evening, Wan Fang called him to eat.
The hospital cafeteria was also filled with the smell of disinfectant. Lin Weimin had no appetite for the food. When he returned to the corridor of Mr. Wan's ward, he ran into the nurse who came to see him.
"Mr. Wan is awake and wants to see you!"
Lin Weimin ran back to the ward anxiously, took a deep breath at the door, and then pushed it open.
Wan Fang sat beside Mr. Wan's bed. He looked haggard, but his eyes were bright and he seemed to have a special spirit.
"Are you done with your work?" Mr. Wan asked Lin Weimin with a smile.
Lin Weimin forced a smile on his face and said in a relaxed tone: "It's not that easy to finish my work. I just took some time to come and see you."
"It's better to be busy. Such a big award must be promoted well."
"That's right. You didn't go to the literary symposium and didn't hear the conversation of the senior leaders. You can't compare to my current status. Now everyone is looking forward to my cremation one day."
Mr. Wan was amused by him and gasped twice, "You are so old, but you are not serious at all."
"Where's the little girl? Why didn't she come over?"
"School today. I went to Europe for a week and didn't go to school."
"Oh, I forgot all about that."
"She should be out of school by now. I asked Huimin to pick her up. You can look after her later."
Mr. Wan did not ask about the Nobel Prize or his creative work, but just chatted with Lin Weimin about family matters.
It was almost six o'clock when Tao Huimin brought Xiao Doubao to the hospital.
The little girl hadn't seen Mr. Wan for a long time. She was very excited when she saw him. She took out the Nobel medal she had asked for from Lin Weimin from her schoolbag as if she was presenting a treasure.
"Grandpa, do you think this medal is beautiful?"
"It looks good, really good!" Mr. Wan smiled kindly.
"It looks good, doesn't it? It's very valuable, made of gold," she showed off.
"It's made of gold, so it's valuable."
Xiao Doubao showed a trace of struggle on his face, and then handed the medal to Mr. Wan, "Here you go!"
Mr. Wan looked surprised. "Give it to me? You don't want it?"
"Mom said you were sick. I'm giving you this medal as a gift so you can get better soon." Xiao Doubao said seriously.
Mr. Wan laughed, his face full of satisfaction, "Okay, Doubao still cares about Grandpa."
After being praised, Xiaodoubao's face showed a very proud expression, "That's right!"
Just like his father.
As night fell, Mr. Wan was in surprisingly good condition, causing an unspeakable sadness to well up in the hearts of those around him.
Lin Weimin looked at the time and took Xiao Doubao's hand, "Let Grandpa and Auntie talk more."
He looked at Mr. Wan and said, "You chat with my wife, my sister, and my brother-in-law for a while. I'll take her out for dinner."
The teacher and student looked at each other, and Mr. Wan smiled and nodded.
The family of three walked out of the ward. Lin Weimin could no longer hide the sadness on his face. He held Tao Huimin's hand tightly.
The door of the ward opened and closed, and people came and went. At about eight o'clock in the evening, Mr. Wan was tired, and the younger people in the ward had all left. Lin Weimin asked Tao Huimin to take Xiao Doubao home, and he stayed in the hospital.
The corridor outside the high-ranking cadres' ward was very quiet, except for the occasional noise made by the nurse in the duty room.
Sister Wan Fang stayed in the hospital. After Mr. Wan fell asleep, she walked out of the ward and asked softly, "Do you have anything to say to him?"
Lin Weimin looked at the door of the ward, was silent and absent-minded for a long time, and shook his head.
"Let him sleep. He is too tired and in too much pain."
Lin Weimin's tone was gentle, but it touched the soft spot in Wan Fang's heart, and her eyes filled with tears.
Over the years, Wan Fang has witnessed his father's pain, which comes from the distant past, his lack of creativity, and the contradiction between his heart and reality.
As soon as the phone rang at home, Mr. Wan would go to meetings, write inscriptions, watch plays, judge awards, or visit foreign countries...
These endless mundane tasks took up the little time and energy he had left. Every time he came home from an event, he was filled with fatigue and frustration.
"These things became a burden to him and also became his excuse."
Jiang Lang has run out of ideas!
These four light words turned out to be a curse that would torment a young genius for the rest of his life.
Listening to Wan Fang's words, Lin Weimin stared silently into the depths of the corridor. The drunk Lu Yao that day suddenly came to his mind.
They didn't say a word:
Maybe leaving is his only relief.
At four o'clock in the morning, noisy footsteps were heard in the hospital corridor. Lin Weimin's head was dizzy after not sleeping all night. He followed the footsteps of the doctors and nurses, but he was like a headless fly, not knowing what to do.
There was a green straight line drawn on the pacemaker in the ward, and his teacher was gone.
The vast empty darkness outside the window seemed like a black hole devouring his will. The fluorescent lights on the ceiling of the ward were emitting a dim light, reflecting the shadows of people before his eyes.
Mr. Wan was lying on the hospital bed, barefoot, with a slightly bulging belly and the ventilator mask on his face.
Lin Weimin's sight finally focused on the body. He touched the pale and swollen ankle, which felt like the biting cold wind on the way here.
Mr. Wan really left, and left very quietly.
While the doctors and nurses were treating him, his family members flocked to the hospital. The doctor asked everyone to go into the ward to say goodbye to him. At this time, the morning light was already dim outside the window.
Mr. Wan's funeral was handled by his family, so Lin Weimin didn't need to worry about it. He didn't sleep all night, and Wan Fang pushed him to have breakfast.
On a winter morning, the sky is clear and the sun is shining brightly.
Standing at the hospital entrance, Xiao Doubao, who had just arrived at the hospital, took Lin Weimin's hand and asked, "Dad, has my medal grandpa put it on?"
Lin Weimin squatted down and hugged his daughter, "Put it on, grandpa likes it very much."
A few days later, it was the day for Mr. Wan's cremation. The hearse drove along the crowded Chang'an Avenue to Babaoshan. Before the cremation, Mr. Wan was covered with a white silk cloth. The pure morning sun shone on his face for the last time. Lin Weimin vaguely recalled the scene when he first saw this face.
On the Monday after New Year's Day, Lin Weimin's old Mercedes was parked outside the gate of the National Academy of Arts in Balizhuang outside the East Fourth Ring Road.
As soon as the young security guard in the guard room saw Lin Weimin's face, he took the initiative to open the door and let Lin Weimin park the car in the yard.
The car entered the yard. As soon as Lin Weimin got out of the car, he saw Gu Jianzhi and a group of people coming to greet him.
In the past few years, the president of the National Academy of Arts has been staying in the hospital, and the hospital is basically run by Gu Jianzhi.
"Weimin, you're finally here!" Gu Jianzhi shook Lin Weimin's hand enthusiastically.
"Director Gu, I'm sorry to have kept you waiting for so long."
"No way, you are so busy, it is not easy for you to find time to come here." Gu Jianzhi said, his face showing a bit of solemnity, and said: "My condolences to Mr. Wan."
Lin Weimin nodded and said nothing.
Gu Jianzhi introduced the people around him to Lin Weimin one by one, mainly new faces that Lin Weimin didn't know. In the past 20 years, from the Institute of Literature to the National Academy of Literature, the people here have changed. Tang Yuqiu has retired. That day, she and Gu Jianzhi went to the National Literature Society to find Lin Weimin as a guest.
There are also many acquaintances who have retired or transferred, and now there are only a few old faces that Lin Weimin recognizes in the National Academy of Arts.
"Come inside quickly so that everyone doesn't freeze in the yard."
The National Academy of Arts welcomed Lin Weimin with great fanfare. Most of the faculty and staff showed up in the courtyard. After everyone exchanged greetings, Lin Weimin asked everyone to go inside quickly.
After Lin Weimin entered the courtyard, many students inside and outside the building focused their attention on him.
It's cloudy outside today and the north wind has been blowing since morning.
The morning class of the School of Arts starts at nine o'clock. It is a little after eight o'clock now, and Lin Weimin is invited to the office of Vice President Gu Jianzhi for tea and chat.
Compared to the first time he came to give a lecture after the National Academy of Arts was built in 1984, the facilities of the National Academy of Arts have not changed much, except that they look older and can no longer keep up with the development of the times.
Take the desk in Gu Jianzhi’s office for example, it is still the same one he used during his time at the Institute of Literature and Art.
"Why haven't the school conditions in the college improved?" Lin Weimin took the initiative to bring up the topic.
Gu Jianzhi said, "We rely on funding from the Literary Association. We are a poor government agency and our funding has never been abundant. You know that."
As he spoke, he looked at Lin Weimin's face and asked with a smile, "How about you donate some?"
Lin Weimin said happily: "Okay."
Gu Jianzhi's eyes lit up, "Really? Are you really donating?"
He had seen Lin Weimin bring up this topic, seemingly intentionally, so he took the initiative to speak out.
"I've already said it, how can it be false?" Lin Weimin looked relaxed, "I am a person trained by the Institute of Literature and Art, so it is my duty to contribute a little."
Gu Jianzhi was overjoyed and held Lin Weimin's hand to thank him again and again.
For Lin Weimin, donating some money to the National Academy of Arts to improve its hardware facilities is not a burden.
Gu Jianzhi just mentioned Mr. Wan. If he had not received training at the Institute of Literature Research, he and Mr. Wan would not have had this teacher-student relationship.
The courtyard of the National Academy of Arts is not large, covering an area of about 3,000 square meters. It won't cost much to rebuild the building. Even if some advanced teaching facilities are added, it would cost no more than 10 million.
Lin Weimin had a brief conversation with Gu Jianzhi and confirmed the matter.
At nine o'clock, a familiar yet unfamiliar bell rang, and Lin Weimin came to the classroom. There were more than thirty students in this class of the Institute of Literature and Art.
Seeing Lin Weimin walk in, the originally noisy classroom suddenly became quiet. The students seemed to breathe lighter, and their eyes followed Lin Weimin's footsteps, full of admiration and worship.
The students in this class are generally around 30 years old, with a few younger and older students dotted among them, which is somewhat similar to the situation of Lin Weimin's class.
Walking up to the podium, Lin Weimin had a calm expression. Looking at the many students below the stage, he seemed to see the scene of twenty years ago again.
At that time, he had just left his rural environment and came to Yenching University and the Institute of Literature. He was as lively as a street kid, spending every moment with his classmates and the famous teachers teaching and answering their questions...
"Hello, students. It's a pleasure to meet you at the National College of Letters."
Lin Weimin, who had just won the Nobel Prize in Literature, stood on the podium. Even if he just said hello, the students in the audience could feel his powerful aura.
This aura is of course their own imagination. Lin Weimin came to the National Academy of Arts today and said he was invited to give a lecture, but what can he talk about in one class?
But now that I'm here, in addition to exchanging experiences, I have to share some practical stuff.
The students who come to the National Academy of Literature for further studies must have published their works in publications, and some may even be well-known writers.
However, there are very few students now who are writers who have won national awards, as was the case with Lin Weimin and his colleagues in the past.
In order to communicate with this group of authors who do not have much creative experience, Lin Weimin divided the lecture content into two parts.
First, I will share with you some of my creative experiences from a writer's perspective; second, I will share with you some of the editors' review experiences and likes and dislikes from an editor's perspective.
The students were listening to the lecture and comparing the two. Many things that were previously unclear to them suddenly became clear to them.
"There's still some time left, so stay and ask questions."
After the one and a half hour class was over, Lin Weimin took a sip of tea to moisten his throat and listened to the teacher summarizing what he had taught in the class. He felt that it was more thorough than his own summary.
Today, Lin Weimin came to the National Academy of Literature to give a lecture. In addition to the teacher in class, many other teachers in the academy also sat in the audience. After all, there are not many opportunities to listen to lectures by a Nobel Prize winner in Literature.
After the teacher summarized Lin Weimin's lecture, he began to call on students to ask questions.
"Teacher Lin, as we all know, you have just won the Nobel Prize in Literature. In your writing career, you have also won many well-known literary awards at home and abroad, such as the Yanbing Literature Award and the Goncourt Literature Award, but none of them seem to be as popular as this Nobel Prize in Literature. I would like to ask, how do you view the influence of the Nobel Prize in Literature in the world?"
The student asked a question about the Nobel Prize in Literature that Lin Weimin had just won, which attracted the attention of many teachers and students in the audience. Everyone seemed very interested in this topic.
“The Nobel Prize has existed for 100 years, from the first one in 1901 to this year. It is not just in the past two decades that it has gained wide worldwide popularity.
Simply put, the influence of the Nobel Prize comes from three aspects.
First, the prize money. You should know that when the Nobel Prize was first established 100 years ago, it did not have the reputation it has today. The reason why it can attract the attention of the scientific community around the world is closely related to its generous prize money. Scientists are also human beings, and wealth is also attractive to them.
As far as I know, when the Nobel Prize was first awarded in 1901, the prize money for each award was 150,000 Swedish kronor, which was equivalent to the salary of a Swedish professor working for 20 years at that time. In European countries, the salary of professors belongs to the middle and high income groups.
Such a huge sum of money is enough to attract most scientists in the world.
Second, stable operation. This is inseparable from the successful operation of the Nobel Foundation for Mr. Nobel's legacy, and also inseparable from the fact that Sweden has not been affected by large-scale wars for a long time. Although the Nobel Prize was suspended for a few years due to World War I and World War II, the foundation was not damaged, and it was still able to quickly restore its influence after the war.
Third, it has to be old enough. It is unrealistic to create an award that is authoritative worldwide without the test of time. The Nobel Prize’s global influence is not achieved in a day or two. The influence of the award will accumulate with each successful and fair award.
Personally, I envy the influence of the Nobel Prize, and I hope that an authoritative award with global influence like this can be born in our country.
After all, awards are a kind of discourse power and an evaluation system. It is not a good thing for us to be dominated by other people's values for a long time.
I wonder if you are satisfied with this question of mine?"
After answering the students' questions, Lin Weimin asked with a smile.
The student who asked the question nodded hurriedly.
Then another student asked, "We all know that you entered the Chinese literary world from the Institute of Literature, the predecessor of the National Academy of Literature, and have now become an important writer in the world literary world. I would like to ask you what role do you think your experience at the Institute of Literature played in your life? Is there anything you can teach us?"
Hearing this question, Lin Weimin pondered for a moment.
"The study experience at the Institute of Literature and Art is the most precious experience in my life. If you ask what specific role it played, I think it can be said that if there was no Institute of Literature and Art, there would not be a writer named Lin Weimin in the Chinese literary world. I might be farming or doing business, and I might occasionally have the leisure to play around and write something.
As for the experience that I can teach everyone, I think writers should first focus on themselves, not only put aside past works and achievements, but also put aside the admiration for literature in their hearts. Don't regard it as an unattainable art, and don't be complacent and self-contained. Go to the masses to watch, listen, experience, and feel, and create literature that truly belongs to the general public. It is far more important to expand the audience of literature than to generalize the nobility of literature. "
When Lin Weimin finished his answer, there was warm applause from the audience.
At this time, a bell rang outside the classroom, and the teacher said, "Okay, thank you Teacher Lin for your wonderful lecture today. Today's class ends here."
The get out of class was over, but the teachers and students in the audience did not disperse. Instead, they crowded around the podium. Everyone had Lin Weimin's books in their hands and asked him for his autograph.
After spending more than ten minutes signing, Lin Weimin was able to walk out of the classroom. Only then did he realize that it had started snowing outside.
Snowflakes fluttered down from the sky, like endless flowers blooming in the hazy winter day.
Gu Jianzhi invited Lin Weimin to have lunch in the courtyard before leaving. He looked at the snow outside and said, "Let's not have lunch. It's hard to drive on the road because of the heavy snow."
Gu Jianzhi did not persuade him any further. Lin Weimin talked to him a few more words about the donation, and they agreed to find time to talk again, and then they came to the courtyard.
His car was parked next to the gate. When the guard saw him come out, he wanted to open the gate for him. The gate had two doors, and Lin Weimin also stepped forward to lend a hand.
A high-rise building is being built opposite the National College of Arts. It is now halfway through and it looks like the construction will be stopped in the winter.
"What is this building used for?"
"They said they were going to build a big hotel called something like Lijingwan."
Lin Weimin looked at the tall buildings in front of him and felt dazed.
Suddenly he heard a voice shouting.
"Lin Weimin!"
Turning around, I saw nothing but white.
(End of text)
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