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《路福記事》:一道鮮活農(nóng)家菜

2006-01-01 00:00:00張輝虎
文化交流 2006年4期

今年4月《人民日報》刊發(fā)一篇題為《七旬老農(nóng)“種字造文”》文章,介紹浙江景寧畬族自治縣一個老農(nóng)寫書的故事;《中華讀書報》也發(fā)表了《一個農(nóng)民的人生筆記》,評價這個農(nóng)民出版的一本不平常的書,說這個老農(nóng)的書猶如盛在粗瓷大碗里的一道鮮活農(nóng)家土菜。

這個老農(nóng)就是我的父親張路福,一個道道地地僻遠(yuǎn)山村的農(nóng)民。他的書《路福記事》和《土詩》出版后,被有的作家喻為“真正意義上農(nóng)民寫的書”。

由于家境窘迫,我父親只讀了四年小學(xué)便開始務(wù)農(nóng)。23歲那年父親以自己忠實的為人獲得村民一致舉薦,擔(dān)任了村民集體創(chuàng)辦的英川供銷社黃謝圩門市部的首任營業(yè)員,直至獲上級賞識調(diào)區(qū)、縣、溫州、文成等地從事營業(yè)員和會計工作。1962年,32歲的父親響應(yīng)號召,不顧自己身軀的瘦弱,毅然支農(nóng)回到了家鄉(xiāng)。

回到農(nóng)村,開始面對生活的真實:家是一窮二白的家,而孩子卻陸陸續(xù)續(xù)地出生……

父親開始了與先前完全不一樣的生活:耕田、養(yǎng)牛、割草;種地、砍柴、挑水;送孩子們上學(xué)和出門幫工……從清晨到星夜,從春風(fēng)到寒露,四季輪回,寒暑更替,在時光消逝中原本就十分瘦弱的父親開始慢慢變老。

“以農(nóng)業(yè)為榮,以田園為樂。”是父親的名言,也是幾十年來激勵父親在艱難中前行的主要精神動力。他愛大山,愛山村,愛溪流,愛土地,他在家中貼了親手書寫的對聯(lián):“青山綠水靜人心,竹籬茅舍養(yǎng)精神。”

父親年輕時曾看過《西游記》《三國演義》《水滸傳》《今古奇觀》《千家詩》《勸世文》等書,看了不過癮,還用毛筆工工整整地將書抄下來。在每日種田之余,還養(yǎng)成了記事的習(xí)慣,開始記的是勞動日記,漸漸地發(fā)展到記山村里發(fā)生的事,再補(bǔ)記一點內(nèi)心感受什么的。如此漸漸成了習(xí)慣后,他白天上山干活,晚上便就著昏暗的火篾或松明燈火,將水泥袋紙和香煙殼等當(dāng)作稿紙,在上面一筆一畫寫下一天的所見所聞。它有時記山民講的民間故事,有時記親屬之間的情誼,有時記民間風(fēng)俗,有時記山村里發(fā)生的新事,有時記農(nóng)作物的生長,有時還用擬人化的手法寫山間的動物,有時甚至還寫順口溜式的詩……,總之是五花八門,應(yīng)有盡有。就說父親寫打油詩的故事吧:很多年前小山村的竹林里常常發(fā)生毛竹被偷的事,每家每戶都很煩惱,但也沒有什么好辦法對付。父親想到了在毛竹上作記號也許有用,就跑到自家竹林里一手拿毛筆,一手拿油墨,給挺拔的毛竹逐株寫上“裕泰”等字號,就像是他給竹子取名字。他寫到后來,還自編打油詩寫在竹上:“你家有毛竹,還到我家砍;你要毛竹用,應(yīng)該自己養(yǎng)!”不想這一招效果卻出奇地好,因為偷竹人偷了寫上字的毛竹去,則必須得刮去上面的字才不被人識破,即便刮去了也還是留有痕跡,同時竹上所寫的詩文多少還有點教化作用,漸漸地偷竹的人少起來了。

經(jīng)過整理、編輯、排版、打印、校對,經(jīng)過父子倆兩年的共同努力,在有關(guān)方面的關(guān)心和幫助下,2004年10月,父親的《路福記事》面世了。路福是村里人喊了父親一輩子的名字,“記事”則更多地體現(xiàn)了文本特點,表明作者是在記述性地寫下他的一些所見所聞、所思所想。全書20萬字,共收入文稿108篇,分山野記事、村居記事、親情記事、歲月記事、陽光記事、傳說記事等六輯,還穿插了許多圖片,第二年年底又出版了詩集《土詩》。《土詩》共收入詩稿241首,分12輯,分別是:田野動物、蟲魚禽鳥、植物家畜、四季隨想、親友感懷、村居雜事、田間土名、山野土名、鄰村回眸、七廟一殿、故事略吟、海鹽喜行。

“值得一提的是,這一次父親不僅十分認(rèn)同“土詩”這個名字,還抽時間自己動手完成詩稿的分輯與歸類,使整個籌備工作得以順利進(jìn)行。父親的配合使我十分高興,就像是配合我出詩集一樣。

“鐘鼓在樓,響聲在外。”一個山區(qū)農(nóng)民正兒八經(jīng)出了兩本書,其濃郁的鄉(xiāng)土氣息和原生態(tài)的特色引起有關(guān)方面和媒體的關(guān)注,許多記者不遠(yuǎn)千里前來我的家里采訪,淳樸的母親不得不開始像明星一樣面對各路記者。起初還好,覺得有客人遠(yuǎn)道而來,理應(yīng)高興。但時間一長來的人多了,父母便開始不安起來,父母不是嫌麻煩,而是覺得自己給人家添了麻煩。父親固執(zhí)地認(rèn)為是自己不好,是自己的“這點東西”導(dǎo)致人家要大老遠(yuǎn)趕來,這太麻煩人家了!再說自己又不會說普通話,家里又沒什么好吃的,真的很抱歉。有一次,我告訴父親,說北京有記者要來,父親一聽趕緊說:“你叫他千萬不要來,太遠(yuǎn)了!以后有人來找你,你就說‘這老頭已去世了’好了,這樣最好。”話雖這么說,可每次有記者來父母親還是很高興,還是盡量配合和滿足大家的采訪,直到不知不覺成了一家人。

Historical Records by an Old Farmer

By Zhang Huihu

In April 2006, People's Daily printed a feature on a 76-year-old farmer in Zhejiang who wrote a book. China Books Review, a nationwide weekly on books, published a review on the farmer's book in January shortly after the book was published.

That is my father, an out-and-out farmer in a remote mountainous village in southern Zhejiang. His two books, Lufu's Chronicle and Earthy Verses, are viewed by some critics as books by a farmer in the genuine sense of the word.

My father studied at a primary school only for four years before he had to drop out and began to work in the fields. At the age of 23, he was elected unanimously by villagers to work as a salesperson at a local cooperative because they believed he was an honest man. His work won appreciation and he was assigned to work in more important positions away from home. In 1962 when natural disasters and the economic downturn hit and the government began to cut jobs on a large scale, my father volunteered to come back to the home village to farm.He was 32 years old that year.

He began a life completely different: he worked in the fields, planted crops, cut wood, carried water, took kids to school and worked away from home as a part-time laborer.

He had read literary classics in his younger days and even copied all these books with a brush pen. That can probably explain partly why he began to keep a diary. At first, he jotted down what he did, after a day's work. Gradually, events in the village found their way into his journal. Not a passive observer, he commented on these events now and then. The journal also teemed with folk stories he heard from fellow villagers, notes on family ties and warm feelings between family members and relatives, folk customs, crop growth, and village news. He created some stories of personified animals and scribbled some doggerel-styled poems. What went into the diary eventually formed a vivid and big picture of his cultural life and rural scenes. He used cement packing bags and cigarette packs, among other things, as his manuscript paper. One event he recorded was about how he tried to stop bamboo thefts in the village. For a time, bamboo thefts occurred frequently. Villagers became frustrated but helpless. My father came up with an idea. He marked all the bamboos in the family plot with an imaginary shop title. Later he even wrote criticizing verses on the bamboos to discourage thieves. This method worked, for a thief would have to scratch the ink off before a bamboo pole could be used or sold. And even if the ink was scrubbed off, the telltale mark would still be there. Villagers copied my father's practice and gradually bamboo thefts became infrequent.

A few years ago, I tumbled into my father's treasure and began to sort out the journals and verses. Altogether the records were 300,000 words long. However, my father strongly disagreed with me on whether the journal should be published. He thought it embarrassing to show these things to other people and he held that the journal should be kept private. During one spring festival, I was home with his manuscripts and the printed transcript I had sorted out. I wanted to work with my father to edit out the possible discrepancies between his original journal and the transcription. He put it off again and again with various pretexts. It was not until the night before my leaving home that I finally persuaded my father to sit down and work with me. We toiled till the small hours in the morning. Even then, he felt he was trapped, saying that he should have burned the diaries years before.

His stubborn unwillingness made me hesitate for a while. But I determined to proceed, for I realized these diaries kept track of the years of my father and our family, and they are an important documentation of the cultural life in the country's vast rural area during this particular period. A teacher at my college even described the diaries as a single person's historical records of the nation's countryside.

After my father and I worked together on the project for two years, and thanks to the interest and support from various people and organizations, Lufu's Chronicles authored by my father was finally published in October 2004. ufu?in the title is my father's name known to villagers all his life and's hronicle?aptly suits the characteristics of the texts in the book. The 200,000-word book carries 108 texts, divided into six units intermingled with many photographs and illustrations. At the end of the same year, his 241 poems separated into 12 categories were published under the title of Earthy Verses.

It is worth mentioning that my father liked the title of the poem collection very much. His positive attitude toward the title also showed in his willing participation in the editing work. He sorted out his doggerel-styled verses, classified them into different categories, and put them in order, which made the preparatory work very easy and efficient. Later some of his poems were even printed in People's Literature, the country's number one literary periodical for decades.

A great many reporters have come all the way to interview my parents. At first, my parents were willing to meet them. But now, they have become a little uneasy partly because they feel there is no great food to entertain them and partly because they believe they bother the reporters who travel all the way to the remote village to visit them. My father thinks he can only speak the local dialect, and the book is really nothing great to talk about again and again. My father once even asked me to lie to dissuade journalists to visit him. But journalists do come and my parents are always pleased when a reporter shows up. And a serious question-answer interview will always turn into a pleasant heart-to-heart conversation. My parents become so happy that they feel the guest is really like a family member.

(Translated by David)

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