Chapter 30: Let Us Call It Root-Seeking Literature!

Wang Zengqi hurriedly walked into the magazine office. Li Tuo, upon seeing this venerable elder of the Writers' Association with his distinguished status, greeted him with a smile, “Teacher Wang, what a coincidence! Seeing you here today.”

“Ah, Xiao Li is here too!” Wang Zengqi responded warmly.

Li Tuo nodded repeatedly. “Yes, today I’m planning to discuss 'Falling Leaves Return to Their Roots' with them! Ever since I finished reading it yesterday, I’ve felt unsettled.”

Wang Zengqi inquired, “Why? Is the novel poorly written?”

Zhou Yanru interjected, “Xiao Li, you can’t say it’s poorly written. This novel was revised with the help of Old Wang himself!”

Li Tuo waved his hand. “I wouldn’t dare criticize a novel shaped by two esteemed seniors. It’s just that there’s one thing I’m very curious about. I originally intended to discuss it face-to-face with Comrade Li Yousi, but now I have to ask you both.”

“What is it? Go ahead,” Wang Zengqi said as he took a seat, editors with keen eyesight quickly poured him tea.

Li Tuo asked, “What genre does this novel belong to?”

“Local… rural literature,” Zhang Deling answered without hesitation. The novel predominantly describes rural life, which by definition qualifies it as rural literature.

“I don’t think so. Rural literature often has a strong regional focus—writing about the Northwest only covers the Northwest, and the Central Plains only covers that region. It’s rare to find one that spans several regions like this. Although it can be classified as rural literature, that label is not quite accurate,” Li Tuo shook his head. He wore two hats: writer and literary critic. Simply put, he wrote both fiction and literary commentary.

When writing literary criticism and encountering such an opportunity to cut directly into the literary context, he became excited. He felt that Li Yousi had brought him into a new era.

“Sent-Down Youth Literature?” an editor quietly ventured.

It was quickly dismissed. “What you’re describing is only a branch of ‘Falling Leaves Return to Their Roots,’ not the main theme. The protagonist’s identity as a sent-down youth is incidental, not the novel’s primary focus. Writing about sent-down youth doesn’t make it a sent-down youth novel.”

Wang Zengqi sipped his tea and finally said, “Magical realism, perhaps?”

Mentioning magical realism, the entire literary world is familiar with it. Back in the day, Gabriel García Márquez’s *One Hundred Years of Solitude* swept through Chinese literature like an invincible force.

On the streets, students carried copies of *One Hundred Years of Solitude*, spouting buzzwords about the rise and fall of Latin American literature and magical realism.

Many emerging Chinese writers have been influenced by this novel, most notably Mo Yan, who is often called an imitator of *One Hundred Years of Solitude*.

Li Tuo nodded eagerly, as if on the verge of hearing the key insight he desired most. He continued to watch Wang Zengqi.

Wang Zengqi spoke calmly, “The most typical example is the long journey, where the corpse does not decay—that’s quite magical! Reality is that human nature is real—there are bandits with a sense of justice and sent-down youths who are indifferent.”

“Moreover, one thing they share is that *One Hundred Years of Solitude* presents the rise and fall of Latin American culture from a magical yet realistic perspective. Márquez truly is a master.”

“*Falling Leaves Return to Their Roots* is certainly not as powerful. It hasn’t fully dissected our Chinese culture but rather feels more like an exploratory process. The most obvious clue is the cultural foundation of ‘souls returning home,’ ‘falling leaves returning to their roots.’”

“This novel doesn’t just seek the root of ‘Old Wang,’ it is searching for the roots of Chinese culture itself!”

Li Tuo was so moved that he slapped the table.

“Yes, yes, Teacher, you hit the nail on the head! Truly a master! A virtuoso of the short story!”

Wang Zengqi, immersed in traditional culture from a young age, was well-versed in the classics, history, philosophy, poetry, and calligraphy. Yet he never burdened his writing with excessive allusions; instead, he integrated classical aesthetics into everyday matters, allowing traditional culture to be reborn in a “life-like” manner.

Among this group of writers, he could be said to be the one who best studied and fused traditional literature.

Hearing his words, Li Tuo instantly understood. Smiling, he said, “*Falling Leaves Return to Their Roots* is indeed not magical realism. But Teacher Wang’s final point is a complete dissection of the entire novel!”

“Has no one written a ‘root-seeking’ novel in this era?”

“It seems *Falling Leaves Return to Their Roots* is a pioneering work. I think the term ‘root-seeking literature’ perfectly captures the essence of this novel.”

—

Li Tuo’s words seemed to awaken some of the editors present.

Zhang Deling suddenly nodded. “Root-seeking literature? That’s a great name! Impressive! Comrade Li and Teacher Wang, with just a few words, you seem to have created a new literary genre.”

In the 1980s, people had just emerged from the “buzzing” years and were facing major issues such as ideological emancipation, reform and opening up, and cultural reconstruction. The ideological liberation movement deepened, political discourse was unblocked, and literary creation gained freedom.

For instance, scar literature, reflective literature, and reform literature all emerged during this period.

After several years, these writers realized they could not be confined by the decade of isolation, so they began seeking new directions.

At the same time, cultural exchanges between East and West became frequent, sparking a cultural boom in Chinese society. The reevaluation of Eastern civilization overseas and the economic rise of the “Four Asian Tigers” prompted people to turn their gaze to local cultural resources, searching for intersections between Western modern culture and Chinese traditional culture.

Furthermore, the rise of Latin American literature, represented by Márquez, inspired Chinese writers to reflect on their own culture, realizing that literature must be rooted in national culture to engage in dialogue with world literature.

In 1984, Ah Cheng’s *Chess King* formally inaugurated “root-seeking literature”!

This marked a major transformation in the literary world.

However, Li Yousi seems to have taken the lead. *Falling Leaves Return to Their Roots* and *Chess King* share the same aim: seeking roots!

But a pioneering work can only be claimed by the first to write it, and he admits he may not surpass *Chess King*.

It’s like scar literature. Everyone knows Liu Xinwu’s *The Class Teacher* and can recall Lu Xinhua’s naming of “scar literature.”

Many later works on scars are better than *The Class Teacher*, but its status is undeniably more exalted.

Wang Zengqi shook his head, rebutting, “We are not the originators. The originator is Li Yousi! This comrade is remarkable—he didn’t say the novel’s purpose explicitly in front of us, but it’s all written in the title!”

“People need ‘falling leaves returning to their roots,’ and culture needs it too. That is the origin of root-seeking literature.”

Li Tuo nodded. “Indeed, neither of us dare claim to be pioneers before the author himself speaks.”