I ate.
It is really delicious. I ate a roast chicken rack, which was still steaming when it first came out of the oven. There was more meat than I expected. Tear off a piece along the bone, cumin and pepper licked their tongues, chewed it, and it was tender, fragrant and pickled.
The standard of chicken rack should be sesame seed cake or beer.
Bake the sesame seed cake with charcoal fire, and the beer should be chilled. After serving, the table is full of joyful street flavor.
No one wants to match a book with a chicken rack.
A book, which sounds too hard to swallow, is not conducive to digestion at all.
What I want to say is Ban Yu's Winter Swimming.
This book was published several years ago and I finished reading it yesterday. The chicken rack was eaten last month.
Chicken rack and winter swimming, both were born in the same black land, where vast expanse has a lively style and its name is Northeast.
Things from the same land will enjoy the same soul in the dark.
Yes, I firmly believe that the chicken rack is the soul of the book Winter Swimming.
The story of winter swimming took place under the wave of laid-off workers in the 20th century.
In such a big environment, every character leads a very lonely life.
Someone ran away from his wife, and someone died.
Some people are betrayed by friends, while others are supported by relatives.
Some people committed suicide by jumping into the river, and some people hid their guns in their arms;
Some people are red-eyed, desperate for fate, holding a kitchen knife and cutting the usury at home;
Some people's last resort is to lose their mother's funeral expenses in the New Year casino.
Laid off, laid off, laid off ...
This word is not lacking in every story. Today it's him, tomorrow it's your turn.
Holding the money to buy out the length of service, dreaming of a comeback.
The dream is rusty steel machinery, black smoke from the factory gets into the window, coal fire is burning, the sun is like blood, and the world is decadent.
Life is a downhill road.
Everyone was pushed to the edge of this downhill road. Drag one's feet in line.
The road is not good, so we have to bite the bullet and go. They have no choice but to keep "falling behind" in an attempt to go into battle lightly.
Someone abandoned their pride.
The ambitious young man abandoned his leopard-like agility and became obedient and respectful to Nuo Nuo.
At my father's funeral, he smashed the pickle jar. "Whether the funeral is successful or not depends on whether the pot is broken", which is not only a ceremony, but also a kind of dignity.
He tried his best to fall, but only heard a muffled sound.
Weak, humiliated, relatives and friends looked at each other awkwardly, as if this were a portrayal of them for most of their lives.
Self-effacing sat down, looked up and wept bitterly. Who remembers that he is a leopard? ("Winter Swimming Panjin Leopard")
Someone left their feelings behind.
Two ordinary middle-aged men forged a friendship because of beer, gossip, football and trivial necessities.
It's not really "friendship". How can people who are still struggling with food and clothing talk about feelings?
Sure enough, the man cheated his friend of his only motorcycle, so he was ashamed to meet each other and never went to watch the ball again for fear of being discovered.
Friends can't understand, "how can a person give up what he loves so easily?" (Winter Swimming and Cold Killing)
No way, some people's feelings are valuable, and some people's destinies are cheap.
So leave it all behind, leave it behind.
Leave all the beautiful and tedious things behind. Walk barefoot through the rugged dirt roads on the earth.
Pride, emotion, morality, dignity, dreams ...
They are all good things, but they can't afford good things.
On this downhill road, I walked, endured, suffered and rolled involuntarily.
Times are tough.
Seeing that you can't even eat meat, you will be left behind.
It's not that two families can't afford it, but a whole street, more than a dozen factories, one after another, decaying and falling down like a plague.
The restaurant can't be sold either.
As a result, people rummaged through the discarded leftovers and competed with cats, dogs, pigs and sheep for food.
It was at that time that the chicken rack fell from the sky and came into being.
Except in the northeast, other regions do not attach importance to this ingredient.
Three dollars can eat a meal of meat.
It has nothing to do with food, but poverty is its mouth-watering essence.
In fact, in "Winter Swimming", Ban Yu wrote about the delicious food in Northeast China.
What pot-stewed carp, zucchini stuffed with eggs and jiaozi, shrimp wrapped in batter ... I'm too greedy.
But he just said nothing about the chicken rack.
You needn't mention it. It's like clicking, clicking hurts people.
My family eats a chicken rack every meal. Do you want to tell others yourself that the subtext of this sentence is "Other meat can't afford to eat ..."?
The essence of life is the rows of empty chicken racks with bloody foam hanging on the stove.
Barren and rugged.
However, you still have to cook with your heart.
Speaking of eating chicken rack, you have to chew it hard.
The same is true of the book Winter Swimming, which is not easy to read. In other words, reading is heartbroken, emotional and ugly, and you can't wolf it down.
The throat was sharply scratched by bone spurs, and every word smelled of old blood.
There is a key image to understand the story in the book.
That's "people who are underwater".
"Wu Hong said, don't be angry until sunset. When the sun goes down, you are the only one still by the river, flapping the water waves in vain, and the wind will always smooth the water. Sun Shaojun thought about it and said that Jesus denied me. "
"I'm not by the river, I'm underwater."
(Winter Swimming Gun Tomb)
It's not me by the river, I'm underwater. ...
Even despair is powerless, it can only be diluted, and it can't be publicized.
Ask Jesus, what is the cold around me?
What grabbed my throat, what swallowed it from the top of my head, and what suffocated me?
-it is a life that is everywhere and has nowhere to escape.
A dripping morning, a cold deserted street.
A man or a woman, in short, is a cold, expressionless person.
Paper money crumpled, trembling out of his pocket, handed it to the clerk, took the steaming white plastic bag.
If you don't want to eat, you must take it home, give it to your children, give it to the elderly, and give it to your relatives.
These people with chicken racks turned and clicked, and the tired figure was permanently frozen.
Where did you freeze it?
Today you go to eat chicken rack, and you can't taste hope in that despair.
The taste is hidden in the book, behind the words.
Half soul enters the stomach from the mouth, and half soul enters the heart from the words.
Together, it is a complete northeast, from food to literature, that is, from virtual to real, from the past to the present.
So, don't underestimate the chicken rack.
Don't underestimate this appetite, you should know that behind desire is often hope.
Think about it, it's hard not to starve to death on such a day. There are only three pieces left in my pocket. I can make do with a bag of instant noodles.
It happened that they didn't want to.
Take a bite of meat anyway.
Anyway, this day will pass.
In the cold north wind, in the snow.
They are wrapped in heavy military green cotton-padded clothes, marching with heavy steps, dragging two lines of white footprints through the empty and sparse streets, and the snow is lingering and whistling.
The glory of the past has passed away, and this city is like the Third Reich that has declined in the long river.
They are the last generals of the empire.
Heavy footsteps but firm eyes.
The generals were stationed in Amb Lee, drinking a mouthful of white wine, gnawing at chicken racks and waving greasy hands.
When we are full, we will talk about literature and life.
Talk about tenacity and optimism, talk about despair and hope.
Talk about them sinking into the water, talk about them sinking into the water-stubbornly looking up at the sun.
"People looked up from the bottom of the water and accepted the fate."
This sentence is printed on the cover of winter swimming.
* * * Whatever you want.