Back to 80: My literary life

Chapter 98 098 Magical Realism
  Fang Minghua naturally didn't know what was happening in southern Xinjiang.

After this article "Donkey Gets Water" is published, send a magazine and then write a letter asking her about her current situation.

At noon the next day, Fang Minghua finished his meal and checked that the time was almost two o'clock. Then he went to the People's Art Theater to find Lin Zhaohua. The other party had already transcribed the manuscript. The two parties formally signed a contract authorizing the adaptation into a script. Of course, the copyright adaptation fee was 300 yuan.

"Director Lin, I will return to Xijing tonight." Fang Minghua said.

"Why, don't you want to play for a few more days?"

How many more days to play? It doesn’t make sense to pay for the travel expenses alone.

"No, thank you, I have to rush back."

"Then I won't keep you here. When you go back, sort out the receipts for this business trip and send them to me for reimbursement."

"Thank you."

"Go slowly, I hope there will be a chance to cooperate next time." Lin Zhaohua sent him to the gate of the People's Art Theater.

Fang Minghua did not rush back to the guest house, but took a ride to Qianmen West Street where he wanted to visit Wang Meng.

This is the purpose of buying jujubes in Xijing. Coming to Yanjing and walking around with the literary bigwigs I know has only advantages and no disadvantages. Besides, they also helped me last time.

Wang Meng is still the vice chairman of the Yanjing Writers Association. He laughed when he saw Fang Minghua: "Comrade Xiao Fang, that novel really made the literary world lively for a while."

"I would also like to thank Chairman Wang for your support, so I came to visit you today." Fang Minghua said.

"That's right, Xiao Fang, are you going to publish any novels this time?" Wang Meng joked.

"I wrote a new novel, but it was noticed by director Lin Zhaohua of Renyi. He planned to adapt it into a play and invited me to come to Yanjing to discuss the adaptation."

"People's Art wants to adapt it into a drama? That must be interesting? Which magazine was it published in?" Wang Meng was suddenly curious.

“It hasn’t been published yet, it’s not completely finalized.”

Seeing Wang Meng's slightly surprised look, Fang Minghua briefly explained the whole story.

"Xiao Fang, it's not bad. Before it was published, the People's Art Director spotted it and wanted to adapt it into a play. Have you brought the manuscript? Let me take a look."

Fang Minghua took out the manuscript from his yellow satchel and handed it to Wang Meng. Wang Meng put on his reading glasses and read it carefully.

After watching it for a while, he suddenly raised his head and looked at Fang Minghua: "Xiao Fang, have you watched "One Hundred Years of Solitude"?"

"Yes, I have seen it. It was ghostwritten by the Latin American writer García Márquez, and it is also a representative work of magical realism."

"The last article "The Sun Also Rises" is a stream of consciousness. This novel draws on the writing techniques of "One Hundred Years of Solitude" and is magical realism. You are considered a leader among the younger generation of writers." Wang Meng praised it.

"I don't dare, I just need to read more." Fang Minghua was very modest.

"It's good to read more books." Wang Meng suddenly sighed.

"Xiao Fang, like your generation, many people have wasted too much time, the country has been closed for a long time, many people have wasted their youth, and many people lack knowledge."

"A little older, college students in the 1950s and 1960s, like me, were mostly exposed to works from Eastern Europe and the Soviet Union. Writers before liberation used to read European and American novels, and real Latin American literary works did not attract much attention in our country. ah."

Fang Minghua nodded, it was indeed true.

In fact, Latin American literature is also very good. Especially from the 60s to the early 20s, a large number of outstanding works of Latin American literature emerged, which is called the Latin American literature explosion.

However, domestically, Samba football has far less influence on the Chinese people.

"Xiao Fang, last time you asked me to publish that novel, how about this time, I ask you to publish it in "Yanjing Literature"?" Wang Meng finally said.

Fang Minghua felt slightly embarrassed after hearing this. "Chairman Wang, I don't dare to say please. It's just that our president Huang said that he wants me to be published in "Yanhe"."  "Haha, then I won't compete with your president, but if your editor He doesn't want it, you can Send it directly to Editor Zhou of Yanjing Literature." Wang Meng smiled.

Editor He doesn’t want it?
  Don't say it, it's really possible.

Sister He is a warm person, but unfortunately her writing style is too conservative. It doesn't matter if you are a writer, just write what you are good at.

But as an editor, especially an editor-in-chief, that would be a disaster for the magazine.

Of course, Fang Minghua could not say these words in front of Wang Meng.

The two chatted about literature for a while, and then Fang Minghua said goodbye and left. He bought a train ticket in the afternoon and arrived in Xijing the next night.

Since he agreed to President Huang, Fang Minghua speeded up, stayed up late at night, and spent two days finalizing the novel. However, this time he did not hand it directly to Editor He but to Dong Mo first.

Although Dong Mo is the leader of the poetry group, he sometimes helps the novel group review manuscripts. More importantly, he lets him see if they work and whether they can be approved by editor He.

Fang Minghua felt a little embarrassed when he mentioned this old lady.

Dong Mo agreed happily and asked him to put the manuscript here and give him the results tomorrow.

The next morning, Fang Minghua was lazy and still sleeping in bed, when he was woken up by a knock on the door outside.

"Xiao Fang! Fang Minghua!"

It's Dong Mo!
  Fang Minghua jumped up, quickly put on his clothes and went to open the door. Sure enough, it was Dong Mo standing at the door holding the manuscript.

"Editor Dong, I'm sorry, I stayed up late the past two days, so I'm going to catch up on some sleep today." Fang Minghua apologized.

"It doesn't matter, you are a young man, you sleep a lot." Dong Mo said and handed the manuscript to him: "I read it yesterday and it was very well written. A comedy shell with a tragic core! It's just a slightly exaggerated plot and character setting. , a bit like the magical realism of Latin American literature.”

"Yes, it draws on the writing style of this novel genre."

"It's also new. Okay, you leave it to Editor He." Dong Mo said.

"Do you think Editor He can pass it?" Fang Minghua asked again worriedly.

"It should be possible. I don't think she is so conservative that she excludes everything except traditional realist works?!"

In this case, Fang Minghua no longer hesitated and handed the manuscript to Editor He.

结果
  He was actually shot!

"Xiao Fang, your novel is not as good as the last one, but are the characters and plot too exaggerated? Isn't this in line with the style of realistic works? Don't have the European or Latin American consciousness. To use modern and magical realism writing techniques, we should learn from Soviet and Eastern European literature and firmly grasp the key point of realism!"

shit
  Wang Meng was really right!
  Their generation was exposed to works from Eastern Europe and the Soviet Union;

The problem is that the novels written by famous writers such as Tolstoy, Gorky, and Chekov are good, but we can’t stick to them, right?

Forget it, I couldn't explain it to her, Fang Minghua didn't defend himself, just picked up the manuscript and left.

The office next door was the poetry group. Dong Mo noticed Fang Minghua passing by and hurriedly called him in.

"Xiao Fang, have you passed?"

"No, Editor He said that we should study Soviet and Eastern European literature and stop doing those messy things." Fang Minghua told the truth.

"This Lao He! He is so stubborn! I'll tell you!" Dong Mo walked out of the office angrily, and Fang Minghua didn't even try to stop him.

(End of this chapter)