Read Li Juan: Life has been trapped in those years.

I still remember the first time I read Li Juan's book when I was a graduate student. I was fascinated by her words, and sometimes I took the book "The Corner of Altay" with me in class. Later, I read "My Altay" and "Please Sing at Night" to her. After work, I also bought a collection of her early works, Nine Snows. I have read fewer and fewer books in recent years. This time, I learned that Li Juan had published a new book because I saw a friend who was concerned about it reading the book "Forgotten 32" in Weibo, so I brought it back when I went to the book city.

Li Juan should be a shy person in my impression, but when it comes to writing, I have to say that she is really talkative. She writes about trivial daily life, such as mom, grandma, neighbors, cats and dogs at home, etc., as dull as the days when people around her are talking and chatting anytime and anywhere. However, Li Juan has such a magic power that you can tirelessly read one article after another. Sometimes I can't help laughing, sometimes I can't catch my nose.

When I read Beaten, I couldn't help sighing deeply. "Beaten" naturally means "beaten" literally. Li Juan wrote that he once talked with a friend about the school violence he experienced as a child. When he was in primary school in Sichuan, the teacher invented the idea that students beat each other according to the exam rankings. When he went to study in Xinjiang, he met the wonderful rule that "whoever broke the pointer was responsible for losing one". On the way after school, he was ambushed by boys, kicked in the chest, slapped in the face, permed his hair, and went home by different routes every day, feeling helpless and desperate.

This reminds me of my primary school days. It seems normal for some children to quarrel and even fight occasionally. From elementary school to university, I have always been the youngest student in my class, because I was born at the age of 30 and was only five when I was seven. My family wanted me to follow, but I didn't expect to be able to keep up. I learn pinyin and number addition and subtraction very well. When I was young, my father sometimes felt uneasy about going to school to learn about my school, so even the thinnest boy in the class dared not really bully me.

There's only one thing that I can't forget after all these years. If I remember correctly, it was when I was in the fifth grade of primary school. At that time, Aunt Qiong Yao's Princess Pearl was popular all over the country, and girls were keen to collect all kinds of pearl-returning cards and stickers, that is, I had a big red pearl-returning schoolbag at that time. It is conceivable that having a new schoolbag with Swallow, May, Wei Zi and Erkang printed on it was something to be thankful for and even proud of at that time. One afternoon, before I left school, I forgot why I had an argument with a chubby boy who was one year lower than me. Let's call him Xiao Pang for the time being. Xiao Pang made a long cut in my new book bag with a blade. After the incident, my dad ran to school and said that he was still rowing on his schoolbag. What if someone gets scratched? In my impression, my chubby mother seems to have been called to school by the teacher. I have long forgotten how the matter was finally solved, and I don't remember whether I continued to carry that red pearl-returning schoolbag later. Only the long cut on the schoolbag cut by the blade occasionally appears in my memory.

"Those days of being bullied have lengthened my short student days. Almost all people are eager to go back to childhood and adolescence, but I never want to relive that helpless loneliness. Everyone is quiet and lonely except me. After many years, I have been troubled by these memories and feel powerless. The biggest fear of being bullied does not come from the injury itself, but from the sense of fatalism that gradually grows from the wound. "

Li Juan wrote down her psychological feelings of being bullied as a child, but what surprised me even more was her "happy ending story". That happened when she was in the third grade of primary school in Xinjiang. Because of a small gesture in class, she was slapped by the head teacher and smoked for a whole class until her right face was swollen, her ears buzzed and she was almost deaf after class. However, after returning home, she didn't even dare to tell her mother truthfully, and lied that it was just a fall. Li Juan, the head teacher, later recalled that she was still very young and pregnant. She even thinks that the teacher is so violent because of pregnancy reaction. At that time, Li Juan was only ten years old and still a child. She can't understand that the teacher hates another child so much when she clearly has a child in her belly.

It was not until later that I told my friend about it. After listening, her friend said to her, "Li Juan, please forgive her." "Of course I can forgive her. Forgiveness is a very easy thing. However, who am I to forgive her? I am afraid that only God and Buddha can forgive such violence and malice. I'm just a mortal, and I can't dissolve this darkness. Especially the darkness in your heart. " Li Juan wrote.

In my memory, there is also a pregnant female teacher who has a "strong pregnancy reaction". That's my math teacher in junior high school. At that time, when learning triangles, the teacher would bring a wooden triangle to draw on the blackboard. Those triangles are also tools for corporal punishment, from a complete triangle, interrupted by one side to only one lonely one. At that time, my grades in the class should be above average, but math was not my strong suit. I don't know why, the math teacher especially likes to let me do problems on the blackboard, so naturally I was beaten. That I dare not look up at the blackboard at all, for fear of being caught by the math teacher's eyes and doing the problem again. I still remember that every Tuesday night is math night study. I always find various reasons to ask for leave from the class teacher, such as rhinitis, cold and headache, such as having my period and having a stomachache, and then riding my bike home in the dark. Later, probably because I couldn't think of any reason to ask for leave, I was once again invited to the blackboard by the math teacher at a math night self-study class on Tuesday. This is probably a "black history" that I will never erase in my 20-year student career. In my opinion, that problem is not difficult at all, even simpler. I stood in front of the blackboard for a long time, facing x? -Really? Helpless, I finally had to copy it as it is and get off the platform. At that time, I couldn't wait to find a gap to get in. Later, the math teacher went to have a baby, and an old man taught us. The old man may not be as good as her in class, but at least I dare to look at the blackboard, and my math scores are a little behind.

In the third grade, the math teacher came back to class after giving birth to a child. At that time, she was much softer than before, probably because she became a mother. I was once called to the office because my grades were not satisfactory. I was still a little surprised when the math teacher said this-I thought you were smart. I don't think I was beaten that time. Compared with Li Juan's experience, I can hardly say that it is a kind of injury, and it can even be partially interpreted as a "spur" from the math teacher. But it was this "bone spur" that made me feel a deep sense of fear and powerlessness when I was a teenager. Even after more than ten years, I have grown up, and occasionally I dream of myself who is at a loss because I can't do problems in math class and I am afraid of being beaten.

? Soft-hearted people are not easy to be happy Others hurt her or she hurt others, which made her feel uncomfortable. This is what Li Juan said: a sense of fatalism arising from wounds and the darkness that cannot be resolved. As she wrote in The Strongest Moment of Dreams: "Life has been trapped in those years. When I see him in the future, I will say to him: There are so many sorrows in the world. ..... "I think, whether it's Li Juan, a little tailor who enjoys himself in the vast and barren land of Xinjiang, or Li Juan, a writer who brings some warmth and bright colors to our lives, there are also Li Juan, a girl who was beaten and bullied but didn't dare to make any noise, and Li Juan, a migrant girl who can't afford to eat lunch and play truant by bus.

Li Juan and we both know that that person may never come, and no one has said anything about those sad things. Only words are the evidence and commemoration of loneliness during that time. But as Li Juan wrote in My Altay, pain should be hidden in the bottom of my heart, sadness should be restrained, and those who have been hurt and cheated must forgive. People who care nothing are not heartless.

If we want to say why we study in Li Juan, I think Li Juan is just like elegance to Li Juan. She suffered so much and had so much despair. Maybe some of them have forgotten herself. When we are weak, the thought of her strength brightens our eyes. People live in this world, just insist.

But it doesn't matter, you finally become what you want to be.