上世纪80年代初,我在中国作协文学讲习所学习,同桌是而今的大作家王安忆。当时她是个小女孩,也没听说有过什么石破天惊的作品。背后有人猜她是因为母亲茹志娟而受到了照顾。她不声不响的样子让我很是同情,自己是从小镇来的,才发了一个短篇小说就觉得写不下去了,很自卑,就有点同病相怜。上课的时候居然老是对她指手画脚:我从小上课就不太用心,看她记起笔记来恨不得连老师的喷嚏都记下来,觉得好笑,就老打岔,说老师的这段 In the early 1980s, I studied at the Chinese Writers Association Literature Seminar, and Wang An-yi, the great writer at the same table today. At that time she was a little girl and had never heard of anything unexpected. Some people guess behind her because of her mother Ru Jijuan was taken care of. Her quiet voice made me feel very sympathetic. Since I came from a small town, I did not feel like writing a short story. I feel inferior and have a bit of a pity. When I was in class, I was always accustomed to her: I had never intended to learn from my early childhood. I noticed that when I remembered the notes, I could not even remember the sneeze of the teacher. I found it funny.