There is a romantic figure in Taipei. He is familiar with Chinese culture and Western history; he is good at calligraphy, and his English and French are not bad; he can appreciate Chinese paintings and draw oil paintings; he can tell Bible stories and Talking about Buddhist koans... Finally, he can also write down the interesting essence of it and share it with readers. He is Jiang Xun.
Taiwan's famous essayist Zhang Xiaofeng said, "Jiang Xun is good at awakening the beauty of low eyebrows and drooping eyelashes, so that we can see the brilliant and scorching eyes. He is good at awakening the beauty of silence and silence, so that we can hear the cry of an oriole. The gorgeous singing of green willows. "This is Jiang Xun's prose, a masterpiece, all-encompassing.
has been writing for more than 30 years since he published his first collection of essays in 1984. For more than 30 years, Mr. Jiang Xun has been writing non-stop. He wrote about the beauty of Chinese culture and the beauty of Western art; he painted in Paris and meditated by the Tamsui River; he described the bells of Kyoto, and he also fell in love with the mountains of Taiwan... and he never stopped. By putting those lingering pictures in life into writing. The "Jiang Xun Prose" recently launched by Changjiang Literature and Art Publishing House covers Jiang Xun's entire creative career, and compiles the most sincere, tender, private and classic articles among them. The content is full and rich, bringing a great gift to the readers who love Mr. Jiang Xun's works.
His prose is "closer to people's heart"
Mr. Jiang Xun's prose, except for aesthetics and art essays, cannot be simply divided by theme. He has a profound understanding of life and death, reality and illusion, past and future. He has unique insights, and the same is true for the selected articles in this "Jiang Xun's Prose". These articles cannot be simply classified as "philosophical essays" or "life sketches". According to what he himself said in the preface, they are "closer to human beings". Words from the bottom of my heart."
's book not only contains chapters about the beauty of culture, but also his evaluation and reappearance of those people and things in Taiwan. The most important thing is that he recorded the scenery and years in his life journey.
In his famous article "Runaway", he wrote about how he quit his job and returned to Paris to rent a house and paint oil paintings. He said that he felt too lonely in his fixed and repetitive life. I no longer have curiosity about new things, no longer have dreams, and no longer want to explore my potential possibilities.
He doesn’t want to spend the rest of his life like this. So he came to Paris wearing jeans. He chose Paris because there was an unfinished dream he had when he was 25 years old. It is easy to forget the dreams of youth, but he is glad that he has not forgotten them.
The studio he rented in Paris was a stable for French nobles. It used to be a stable for horses, but now it is used for painting. He said that this stable is "tall and bright", where he seizes all his time to create, which is incompatible with the leisurely French rhythm. But he knows that this is to find himself lost in a corner of this city, to find the unfinished dream when he was 25 years old. He is looking for it very urgently, as if it would be a great regret not to look for it again.
Reading his beautiful articles can give people the courage to run away from their familiar environment, run away from a life without challenges day after day, run away from the role that others have stereotyped for you, and move towards strangers and a broader new self. Live for your own happiness.
Jiang Xun is so moved that dreamers who still have longing for their own lives can sail towards the stars in the sky like a drunken boat.
The ancient Chinese culture comes alive in his writings
As Zhang Xiaofeng's wonderful character who seems to have come out of "Shishuoxinyu", Jiang Xun is familiar with literature, drama, philosophy, history, calligraphy, painting and other schools of literature and art. He is: painter, essayist, poet, novelist, critic of film, drama, music and dance, and aesthetic scholar.
All kinds of "beauty" have a profound influence on him. "Jiang Xun's Prose" contains several pieces of Jiang Xun's interpretation of beauty, which are both professional and "gentle". They are never written as official papers and coldly reject people thousands of miles away. Instead, they convey the beauty of classical culture to readers like spring breeze and rain. Xi Murong said: "Jiang Xun is the best guide to the threshold of art in our era. What he opened for us is not only a window in our hearts, but also all the sad and happy truths in the long river of culture and history.Time will eventually pass, but the beautiful memory will last forever. "
His keen observation and understanding of things allow him to detect the beauty of warmth. For example, in the article "Leakage Marks in the House" in the book, a water stain on the wall is often mentioned in Chinese calligraphy and painting. The brush strokes of "house leak marks" slowly convey the beauty of Chinese calligraphy and ink painting - "Ink and wash, water is invisible, ink is colored, the color melts invisible, the invisible accumulates over time, stacks up the years and years, and turns into paper A permanent stain on the piece. "The article not only sorts out the mastery of this technique by famous masters in the past, but also combines the artistic conception of ink and wash with people's state of mind, leading us to understand the broader meaning of life from the traces of winding calligraphy and painting. "Leakage Traces in the House" A metaphor for the artistic conception pursued by Chinese aesthetics, ancient Chinese culture awakens and comes to life in Jiang Xun's writings.
Jiang Xun's words are quiet and gentle, but also full of vitality. The book "Jiang Xun's Prose" is the most loved by readers. The best one is "Spring Orioles' Song". Jiang Xun's words seem to have sounds and colors, and they strangely blend the bright and beautiful sound of the ancient music "Spring Orioles' Song" with the bright and prosperous spring of the Tang Dynasty. Readers can hear the intertwining sounds of spring, flowers, and chirping of birds from between the lines.
Every time I read Jiang Xun, I can subtly gain artistic enlightenment, life enlightenment, or peace of mind in the trivial daily life. Gaining knowledge and peace in life will make you worthy of the flowing time.
He believes that prose is the foundation and true vein of literature.
Jiang Xun, who writes poetry and paintings, believes that prose is the foundation and true vein of literature. It is not only the basis of literary skills. He is also a model of emotion and tolerance. He treats all things in the world with tolerance and caring, and he will sincerely cherish strangers he meets by chance. However, in the fleeting years and the long life, this short sentence of cherishment is enough.
's endless respect and cherishment for prose and the human world have enabled Jiang Xun to write such works as "Meet by Chance", "Story of Stone" and "Irrelevant Years". Good prose that you can't stop chewing on. Whether it's describing scenes, chronicling events, or being lyrical and caring about people, they are all driven by selfless enthusiasm and love, and they write about Jiang Xun's love and expectations for life. Prose", read through the thirty years of Yongya's life in "The Son of Taipei", see the different practices of life, illuminate the different possibilities of life in literature and art, and understand the perseverance and difficulty in life with all sentient beings...
【 Book Excerpt] Author: Jiang Xun
It has nothing to do with the years · Talking about the Spring Festival
Time is actually a long river that never stops, and it is impossible to separate it into a clear paragraph. We divide time into days, months, and years, which is a certain thing borrowed from nature. A phenomenon that assumes the passage of time based on the cycle of the earth, the moon, the sun, or the seasons, and time seems to have a starting point and an end, a progression and a stop, a prosperity and a decline, which can be remembered by people. I am so sad.
"The water will flow even more when you cut off the knife." At the juncture of time, I know that nothing can be held at this juncture, but because of this imaginary gate, I seem to be able to stop and linger for a while, and I can close the door and let him go. The year is changing outside, but I have nothing to do with it!
Today’s Chinese New Year is very different from my childhood.
In the eyes of parents, the Chinese New Year is a great event. Around 1951, we moved to Taiwan from the mainland. Not only did we retain the rituals and rituals of our hometown during the Chinese New Year, we also added many new local customs. The Chinese New Year when I was a child was extremely lively and busy.
My mother is very insistent on the Chinese New Year celebrations in the north. As soon as the twelfth lunar month comes, all kinds of pickled and air-dried food are carefully rubbed with fried peppercorns and salt, soaked in soy sauce, hung with red ropes, and hung one by one on the bamboo poles on the wall to dry in the sun.
The fermented bean curd, kimchi, and glutinous rice wine are stored in earthen jars, and a vat and an urn are placed quietly in the corner of the eaves. I always come closer and put my ears to the altar, as if I can hear the beautiful and moving sounds brewing under the calm, thick and steady vat.
My mother also learned to make hair cakes and Fujian-style rice cakes from the local women in the neighborhood.
Stone mills for grinding glutinous rice are not common nowadays. The white rice milk that gushes out from under the stone mill is placed in washed flour bags and shaped into plump, thick and bulging shapes, which often teases the children and can't help but poke them. The white rice cakes that have condensed after the water has been squeezed are placed in a large steamer, with a blazing fire burning all night underneath. The sweet smell, mixed with the smoke of the charcoal fire, fills our alleys day and night. Children who have nothing to do during the holidays are scurrying around the feet of adults who are busy everywhere and cannot be driven away. Even the frequent fire alarms caused by steaming rice cakes and the urgency and haste of fire trucks arriving have turned into inexplicable tension and excitement in my heart.
In the early years, when Taiwan's general economic situation was not rich, the Chinese New Year was indeed an exciting stimulus, adding a climax to the poverty and monotony of life.
's busyness and excitement are also mixed with many unsolvable taboos. Children are repeatedly reminded not to say unlucky words. It is so taboo that even the sounds, words, or all possible associations are prohibited. Unilaterally banning children would not produce any practical results, so my mother simply wrote a few "Children's Words for Nothing" on red paper and posted them everywhere we went.
Mother is also very taboo about breaking utensils during the twelfth lunar month. If she accidentally breaks a plate or bowl, she must say: "Every year (broken), be safe."
These are trivial details that I didn't understand very well when I was a child, but I will be a little tired of them when I grow up. His behavior has a different taste now in retrospect.
Parents who are far away from their hometown have temporarily settled in a simple residence in a foreign place. They have a little rest from the fear and anxiety that has been experienced for a long time in the war, and have slightly alleviated the shadow of separation, hunger and exile. They are cautious about celebrating the New Year. Many of them seem to be superstitious. The taboos and their deliberately generous reserves of food seem to contain unspeakable bitterness and sorrow from today's perspective.
The Chinese New Year when I was a child has such profound meaning to me, and what I cannot forget is the climax of the Chinese New Year - New Year's Eve. On New Year's Eve, my mother had to steam hundreds of steamed buns. There were so many that within a month or two after the Chinese New Year, we would repeatedly eat steamed New Year’s Eve steamed buns. According to my mother, when we left our hometown, our neighbors gathered hundreds of steamed buns and hard-boiled eggs to send our family on the road.
After the steamed buns were steamed and the lid was opened, my mother was particularly nervous. Her cautious expression often calmed down the naughty us, as if we knew that this moment was filled with her gratitude and nostalgia. Her view of happiness and perfection could not be simpler. wishes.
My job at that time was to take a chopstick, dip it in the prepared red color, and put a bright red dot in the center of each fat, round, steaming bun.
While my mother was busy preparing the New Year's Eve dinner, my father cut out red paper, ground the ink, and wrote a line of small characters on it in a very neat font: "The sacred place of the ancestors of our sect in the past dynasties."
My father posted this note high on the white wall, and used the newly purchased pedal sewing machine to make a table underneath, covered it with red cloth, placed several plates of fruit cakes, and two candles, because there was no incense burner. So he filled the rice with an old cigarette can, covered it with red paper, and inserted three sticks of incense. With the smoke lingering, we all knelt down on small bamboo stools in order and kowtowed to the ancestral shrine of this extremely simple clan.
In people's hearts, if there is still caution about life, gratitude to heaven and earth, and respect and cherishment of all things, then this cigarette-filled table must exist. Although it could not be more simple, in my memory, it is like a luxurious and solemn sacred bean. It has my caution about life and my respect and love for everything in me, so that I will always know how to cherish it, and I will always cherish it. Know how to be grateful.
I love Chinese New Year's Eve. As I get older, on New Year's Eve, it seems that I have returned to the joy of receiving New Year's money . I still like the three words "New Year's money". It is so crude and direct, but it expresses the fear and cherishment of the years, as well as a little bit of betrayal and bribery. And these, sealed in brand-new red paper bags, are passed on to the hands of children and nephews. The abstract and ruthless time seems to have an identity that can be pinned on, with many expectations and many wishes.
Yangtze Evening News/Yangyan Reporter Cai Zhen
