I, a Shanghainese, saved the Northeast Literature

 I, a Shanghainese, saved the Northeast Literature

You know, as a Shanghainese, the definition of cool I accepted from childhood is Xu Wenqiangs or Du Yueshengs: gossip, Neighborhood.

Po is silent, Shanghai is silent, Shuhua is silent, Li is silent. Without a word, a thousand words will be skipped.

But the Northeast people can not control their mouth, but also because they can not control and particularly lovely.

The Northeast Standard Sentences which have been listed numerous times include:

Saying people are foolish is not foolish, but tigers; wearing color is like a bear; pretending garlic is like an elephant; stopping calling squirrels; screaming and playing donkeys; and of course, the famous phrase you foolish deer.

People did not go to the northeast, as if they had already been in Zhao Zhongxiangs Animal World.

Northeasterners are masters of onomatopoeia. They spell words together, look at what spells they read, and speak out the irreplaceable Northeastern dialect.

And Northeast friends especially like Er and Zi.

Speak without stumbling, call without gong. Walking in succession, calling constantly slippery. Call prisons fences and crows old children.

I asked my friend in Northeast China, what is shrimp crawling? She told me: wrasse shrimp.

Named after body shape?

Is that shrimp wrapper called shrimp twist? I asked again.

If there is a Northeast Standard Level Examination, I can pass it on my own feet.

Of course, these are not the main points. Todays protagonist is literature.

In recent years, I have read some books of Northeast writers consciously or unconsciously, and most of them are short stories. A person who has only been to Daqing in the three eastern provinces can even develop specific pictures of old industrial bases, laid-off tide, mafia, gunfire and all kinds of small people.

More importantly, in addition to the dark grey tone and the harsh atmosphere, Northeast writers have tacitly grafted the great turning point and greater silence brought about by fate.

There was blood in the iron, and it finally melted in the snow. Someone is crying in the wind, and the sound of teasing and touching cups is heard in the distance.

Everyone has a hard heart to talk to. People in Northeast China have a hard heart. Sometimes they cant afford it, but they have to carry it. So it cracked and left a resolute shadow to the world.

I dont know how to express this attitude, praise or disapproval. But at least, in the course of reading these literature, I can find some courage and determination to face life.

Li wrote in his recommendation to Winter Swimming: Obviously he knows whats wrong with the world and has no hope of getting better, but he has no choice to give up or be light-hearted.

This is also my impression.

I cant repeat the shock of watching the same title short story of Moses on the Plain on an airplane.

It can be clearly felt that in the face of the grand narrative of the decline of the Northeast, in this tens of millions of people across the decades of change, the fate of many ordinary people is a long gray line.

Shuangxuetao as a pair of clues to the fate of the clever hand, Golden Line and leave room for people to laugh and humble.

But if you like it, it can give comfort and companionship, much warmer than many concrete things.