Writer Ngo Xuan Chuan: "Soldier quality" in literature

(Baonghean) - I have read your short stories many times on the Literature - Arts section of Nghe An Weekend Newspaper. They are the sorrows and joys of wartime characters, hidden behind the heroic battles, are deep concerns and thoughts that are very real and very human. That SMALL sympathy of mine turned out to be a fortunate encounter today with you - writer, teacher, veteran Ngo Xuan Chuan...

“Oh, I’m just an old man who loves to write. It’s too old, what’s there for a journalist to interview?” - writer Ngo Xuan Chuan welcomed me right at the intersection of Cau Giat Town (Quynh Luu), starting the conversation with the humble way of an old man who is reserved about his life. Then, the road of a few hundred meters, starting from the hustle and bustle to his house gate, was filled with leisurely conversations and inquiries. That “old man who loves to write” is now nearly 75 years old. His hair is white, his steps are a bit limping due to the after-effects of hemiplegia after a terrible stroke 11 years ago; otherwise, everything about him exudes an unusual clarity and agility.

Writer Xuan Chuan.

He looked a little concerned, explaining the unfinished house, cluttered with furniture so that the workers could finish painting it in a few days. The workers were bustling with voices, and I heard a Thanh accent? “Well, I am originally from Nong Cong, Thanh Hoa. Last week, when I went back to my hometown, I met some skilled workers, so I quickly invited them to come and renovate the house. Workers are available everywhere, but it is because I can hear the voices of my hometown workers…” - he responded, as if he understood my concerns. That is him, always embracing a deep love for his roots, and for him, things that have passed are things that will never be lost. Like the memories of his hometown, filled with “love and anger” as he expressed them, always lingering in the pages and poems of writer Xuan Chuan, even though for more than half of his life, he has lived, worked and been attached to this land of Nghe An. Like the fiery battlefields, the leafless forests after the napalm bombing, like the young girls and boys who fell for the nation's long march... He said, he could never forget, even now, when he thought old age and illness had knocked down many things, that stream of memories still rushed into his chest every night...

Born into a family with a tradition of studiousness and patriotism, writer Xuan Chuan was the youngest of six siblings. The youngest child was pampered and loved, and his childhood passed peacefully and comfortably, somewhat better off than his peers. No one expected that life would be full of uncertainties, and his siblings would be dealt a fateful blow when their parents passed away one after another, and the family suffered so much that they went bankrupt. From then on, memories of the countryside were of days of digging pennywort, rice mixed with cassava, and patched clothes to get by...

I go back to find my childhood

On the dry, barren stubble field

The broken grasshopper is even more bewildered.

I picked up many worries

(Silly Childhood, 2000)

The most precious and proud thing is that overcoming adversity, his sisters still encouraged each other to keep the tradition of their ancestors, determined to study well and be famous in the region. He said, amidst the pangs of hunger, bruises in the cold of the North, the only thought that kept his sisters from collapsing was to study. Study to repay their parents' kindness, to not be complacent in the great events and to assert themselves! His older brother is Ngo Xuan Sach - a famous writer and poet with "Dinh Bang Youth Guerrilla Team", "The Other Side of the Mountain", "Portrait of a Writer"... As for his sisters, they endured and suffered for their parents to raise their younger siblings to become talented, later on, their figures were always present in his poetry and literature...

In 1964, writer Xuan Chuan graduated from Hanoi University of Literature. What followed was a heroic, tragic and fierce journey of war as a propaganda "soldier" of Division 325. 14 years of war, through many different positions, miles of country landmarks, he and his comrades marched and all the sadness - joy, pride - pain, soaked in the writings of the young soldier and even later, after leaving the army. Many readers commented that Xuan Chuan is one of the few short story authors who write about wartime and post-war truthfully and attractively in the literary village of Nghe An. Talking to him for a long time, I could truly confirm that literary feeling, because I could feel the heavy heart of a person who had experienced war, lived through the days of battle, facing the fragile boundary between life and death. He said that once, in a small, narrow bunker, he and his comrades were enjoying the rare quiet moments after a fierce battle. A group of young men with fresh faces, laughing at each other's jokes. A comrade in his twenties, who had just joined the army, volunteered to stand up and get some water. Just as he reached the mouth of the bunker, while the laughter had not yet died down, suddenly, a wave of American bombs fell down, cutting rocks and soil, sweeping away everything left on the ground. At that moment, he and his comrades in the bunker felt as if they were suffocating from the cruelty of war, because the comrade had not yet had time to stop smiling... When the bombs stopped, he crawled up, tearfully searching for the remaining pieces of his comrade's body... The memories of the battle kept piling up, bursting out into a poignant poem:

Our comrades stay in Truong Son

The burnt forest has smooth green grass

Are you still there?

Give the grass now but pain

green

(The Road and the Grass, 2000)

Published works of writer Xuan Chuan.

Writer Xuan Chuan tremblingly recounted that tragic memory to me, as if once again facing the inconsolable pain in his heart. He held out his hands, the freckled hands of a man who had almost reached the bottom of his life's slope, with crow's feet imprinted into countless fateful palm lines. It was those hands that had buried countless comrades' bodies across the battlefield. It was also those hands that had caressed and comforted the thin, wispy hair of eighteen- and twenty-year-old girls, alone guarding food and ammunition depots in deserted caves in the sacred forests and poisonous waters. And those hands, that heart full of emotions, had written these lines of literature and poetry full of hidden feelings:

A Lon night, girls wrestle and laugh

Eyes full of tears, no one can sleep.

Hurriedly reached out to hug you tightly

There is no winter!

There is no Spring!

Only the eternal desire remains

Self-stroking, so hair is not thick anymore

Dimpled cheeks, malaria has

take away

(My Sister, 1995)

In 1976, the war ended, the country was reunited, he asked to leave the army, returning to his formal training career as a teacher. Quynh Luu was his choice at that time, because he had a virtuous wife who was a teacher in the district, and also because of his feelings about the land of good fortune for children far from home. During that time standing on the podium, he still took the time to write as a way to anchor his passion for literature and "pay off his debt" - as he often used to talk about his writing career. "I write about the countryside to pay off my debt to my ancestors, parents, and the working people.

I write about the fierce war to pay my debt to my comrades - those who are still alive, those who are dead. And I write to pay my debt to this land of Nghe An, which has given me a job, a home, a place of love!" - writer Xuan Chuan confided thoughtfully. After decades of pouring out his heart on the writing page, thousands of pages of manuscripts and many published publications such as the short story collection "The Rushing River", the novel "The Hero of Yen Village", the long novel "Xom Len"..., I do not know if at this moment, he has truly peacefully overcome his worries and jumbled memories? I only know one thing for sure, that "old man who loves to write" still has a great affinity with literature. After the stroke in 2003, his health has clearly declined, now he can only work for less than 2 hours in the morning and takes the time to read more books, newspapers, magazines... for about 1 hour in the afternoon.

In particular, the writer has also learned information technology on his own, and for the past 7 years, he has completely switched from traditional pen and paper to working on computers. Not to mention the short stories familiar to readers of Nghe An Newspaper such as "Chi ca", "Lang xua", "Chuyen nha cua linh" ..., he also wears glasses, diligently "pecking at" novels of several hundred pages. He said that he is currently completing a novel tentatively titled "Long ma", recreating the exemplary, disciplined family model in the Vietnamese countryside, with the hope of adding more voices - the voice of the heart, holding on to the moral values ​​of family traditions that are in danger of fading in the hustle and bustle of modernity.

Never ceasing to create and contribute, literature has become a career that he carries with him, and perhaps, what keeps the passion burning throughout that arduous journey is the "quality" of a former soldier that he never forgets...

Phuoc Anh