[摘要]茅盾和胡风关系也很紧张，按说茅盾是前辈，胡风在日本时还帮他介绍过书稿，但他毫不客气；到了晚年，两人在文字中更是撕破脸皮。






民国文人的吵架：动口不动手

茅盾（图源网络）

文人吵架，你来我往，阵势很大，不像村妇，什么偷汉扒灰、鸡毛蒜皮，而是在鸡毛蒜皮里有民族大义，在喷嚏咳嗽中有国家兴亡。不过，全是纸上英雄，徒逞口舌之快而已。像萧军那样找上门去，与张春桥的伙伴约架的凤毛麟角。

为什么要吵架呢？可忙活死文学史家了，近因，远因，可能还有基因；有甲文中观点，有乙文章观点，有偶然性，有必然性……以我做看客的经验，很多东西都是瞎扯，谁知道他们嘴上说的那些原因是真是假。比如，郭沫若第一次见郑振铎，就觉得：“他的面貌很有些希腊人的风味……他伸出来和我握手的手指，就和小学生的手一样，有很多的墨迹。”他认为此人真率。可是同去的茅盾（沈雁冰）却完全是另一种印象：

他穿的是清补马褂，竹布长衫，那时似乎在守制。他的身材矮小，面孔也纤细而苍白，戴着一副很深的近视眼镜，背是微微弓着的，头是微微埋着的。和人谈话的时候，总爱把眼镜白泛起来，把视线越过眼镜框的上缘来看你。声音也带着些尖锐的调子，爱露出牙齿咬字。因此我总觉得他好像一只耗子。（《学生时代》第87页，人民文学出版社1979年3月版）

哈哈哈，耗子。他又补了一句：“我在这儿要特别加上一番注脚，我这只是写的实感，并没有包含骂人的意思在里面。”天哪，捅人一刀，还附送这把胡椒面，还不是骂人？

茅盾和胡风关系也很紧张，按说茅盾是前辈，胡风在日本时还帮他介绍过书稿，但他毫不客气；到了晚年，两人在文字中更是撕破脸皮。胡风说茅盾是“大书店雇佣的编辑，大杂志的主编，资本家的代理人”（《鲁迅先生》，《胡风全集》第7卷第92页，湖北人民出版社1999年1月版）。茅盾说胡风领南京政府办的“中山文化教育馆”的津贴，社会关系复杂，并毫不隐晦地说：“我与胡风只有泛泛之交，而且是由于鲁迅的关系。我对胡风没有好感，觉得他的作风、人品不使人佩服。在当时左翼文艺界的纠纷中，他不是一个团结的因素而是相反。他还在很大程度上影响了鲁迅对某些事物真相的判断，因为他向鲁迅介绍的情况常常是带着浓烈的意气和成见的。”（《我走过的道路》中卷第280页）

胡风在讽刺茅盾上若写成小说也能进年度十佳，他叙述：1933年的一天，周扬约近十个“左联”盟员在小馆子吃饭，并请茅盾来讲话，预定的时间过了很久，仍不见茅盾的身影。周扬着急了，到内山书店去找鲁迅，鲁迅就跟周扬一道来了。大家很高兴，谈得也很热烈，这个时候，茅盾还是来了：“坐定以后，结结巴巴地谈起他的《子夜》和短篇《林家铺子》的创作经验来了。听着听着，鲁迅现出了不耐烦的神色，静静地对茅盾谈话中某一点插入了几句：‘我的想法不是这样……’茅盾听了发窘，现出了不尴不尬的脸色。……事后，参加了那次会见的人谈到时，总是恋恋不舍地回忆见到鲁迅和听到他谈话的愉快心情。”（《鲁迅先生》，《胡风全集》第7卷第62页）那天的情形到底怎么样，不得而知，反正，留下的就是这样的记录。也好，我们茶余饭后有谈资了。返回腾讯网首页>>

约架，决斗？

普希金因决斗而死 （好像不吵架就直接动手，死得不值。他的情敌太可恶，）

Pushkin's Duel, Pushkin's Button   By  Steven  King
http://www.todayinliterature.com/stories.asp?Event_Date=2/10/1837

On this day in 1837 Aleksandr Pushkin died at the age of thirty-seven, from a gunshot wound received in a duel two days earlier. As the event remains something of a puzzle in Russia, those of us who still regard that country as the Churchillian "riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma" can't really hope for much, but it is a fascinating story. There have been three recent biographies, each telling it in different ways. T. J. Binyon's Pushkin (2003), winner of the Samuel Johnson Prize in England, is comprehensive and highly-praised, while Elaine Feinstein's Pushkin (1998) is half the size, a "precise, cool biography." The third book, Serena Vitale's Pushkin's Button (1995), is a story-driven account of Pushkin's last months, a tale in which duelists and duel are swept up in the salon and court intriques of St. Petersburg -- a 19th century Dangerous Liasons, or Pushkin's own "Mozart and Salieri" story in an Amadeus key.

The murdering Salieri, in this case, had only charm, and the jealous self-destructiveness was all Pushkin's. George d'Anthès was an officer in the Tsar's Horse Guards, a soldier-of-fortune Frenchman living in St. Petersburg -- the riddles start here -- as the adopted son and probably lover of the homosexual Dutch ambassador to Russia, Baron Heeckeren. D'Anthès was handsome in a uniform; Pushkin's wife was one of the beauties of St. Petersburg, and a flirt; they were both a dozen years younger than Pushkin. Their long walks and close talks titillated St. Petersburg society for months, and pushed all of Pushkin's buttons.

Vitale titled Pushkin's Button from the one which some observed to be missing on his bekesh, a fur-trimmed overcoat that had seen better days. We are to regard this detail as symbolic of a larger duality. Pushkin is the moody, debt-ridden, pre-occupied romantic. Once rebel-in-exile, and still voice-of-the-people, he allowed himself to become man-about-town in St. Petersburg and co-opted by the attentions of the Tsar (though the Tsar may only have wanted to keep an eye on him and his pretty wife). D'Anthès is an idler, a foreigner, one who exploits all the unwarranted prestige given him in a snobby, militarist, Westernized society. His buttons are in polished rows, and his only decision is whether to wear the single- or the double-breasted officer's jacket to that night's party. As Pushkin became the soul and "father of Russian literature," so d'Anthès shot him as a representative of all that was wrong and unhealthy with the country: "It wasn't d'Anthès's bullet that killed Pushkin," wrote Alexander Blok later. "It was lack of air."

D'Anthès's buttons turn out to be much more than metaphor. The duel was Pushkin's idea, and illegal; it was career- as well as life-threatening to d'Anthès. He could hardly not show up, but he may have arrived to the appointed moment-sunset, a half-hour's sleigh ride out of town along the frozen Neva River, a wooded area knee-deep in snow, a short track trampled down by each man's seconds -- wearing some sort of armor. This, some say, is the real interpretation for what is reported to have happened: the downed and fatally-wounded Pushkin rallying enough to take his shot, his direct hit to d'Anthès chest from ten paces giving only a flesh wound to d'Anthès raised arm before it was deflected away by one of his shiny buttons.

The wider drama of the duel includes anonymous, public letters which mocked Pushkin as a cuckold, and private letters exchanged in high society which mocked him as an Othello -- he had some African blood -- and darker hints of political plotting. In any case, his book sales soared immediately afterwards, and ten thousand came to the house to file past his body -- so many of them poor or students that the Tsar's secret police saw portents of revolution all about them. Over a century later the writer Evgenia Ginzburg said that no one went to the Gulag without a copy of Pushkin's poetry, so Stalin's spies might have felt the same way.