A feeling of nostalgia

     I'm a rather nostalgic person. I always feel that the old is worse than the new, and that things get better with age. This manifests in my lifestyle as a strong "retro" tendency. I enjoy listening to old songs, reading old books, and watching old movies, while I'm not particularly interested in today's wildly popular online singers, writers, or rising stars. Some friends jokingly call me an "old-fashioned scholar," a title I neither agree nor disagree with. While it's good for the old to be replaced by the new, the sense of history and worldliness that comes with it is something that today's so-called "new generation" of 90s kids can't truly capture. Therefore, I always judge trends based solely on my personal likes and dislikes. I enjoy reading in my spare time, a habit I've maintained for many years—it's one of my quirks. Speaking of books, perhaps I'm a bit biased, but I especially love the works of older female authors. I always feel a special connection to them, but unfortunately, most of those books are now lost to time, with no more masterpieces to follow.

    Back in the day, Taiwanese singer Chyi Yu became a household name across China with her song "Olive Tree." While enjoying her beautiful voice, I also remembered the lyricist—Sanmao. My acquaintance with her stemmed from her famous book, "The Scarecrow's Notebook." Her accessible writing, elegant style, and romantic sentiment, like the refreshing wind and bright clouds of the Sahara Desert, instantly captivated me, and I devoured all of Sanmao's books. I admire this witty and lively woman, even though she was not happy and was filled with melancholy; I still admire her keen sensitivity and extraordinary talent. Influenced by Sanmao, I also read the works of other female writers from Hong Kong and Taiwan who rose to prominence around the same time. The poetry of Xi Murong and Luo Lan, the essays of Zhang Xiaofeng and Li Bihua, the romance novels of Yi Shu, Qiong Yao, and Cen Kailun, and the unique financial novels of Liang Fengyi—all captivated me. Although many young people today criticize these books as outdated and out of touch with reality, I believe that for a book to maintain its enduring popularity and fame over a period of time, it must possess a certain stylistic quality and aesthetic value. I believe I'm not wrong.

    For a time, I was a huge fan of Eileen Chang. I read her famous works, *Legend* and *Gossip*, dozens of times, and they still linger in my memory. A desolate sigh, a heavy gesture—her revelations about human nature, her satire of the world, and her sensitivity to the times create a series of incisive and classic works. She truly deserves to be called a unique flower in the literary world. At that time, I was taking self-study exams in Chinese Language and Literature. Purely to pass the exams, I read books by famous female writers such as Yang Mo, Ding Ling, Xiao Hong, and Lin Haiyin. After reading them, I could never forget those extraordinary women. What kind of inspiration and talent could enable them to write such epoch-making masterpieces? I was immersed in the sea of ​​books, unable to extricate myself. Ignoring my already nearsighted eyes, I immediately began reading the works of renowned female writers of recent years, such as Tie Ning, Wang Anyi, Zhang Kangkang, Bi Shumin, Zhang Xin, and Chi Li. I was truly awestruck and amazed by their exquisite and moving prose; women truly surpass men! Nowadays, the incomprehensible new literature is miles behind the works of our predecessors. Perhaps the essence of writing requires long-term refinement to achieve true expressiveness; without much experience, how can one easily explore the depths of the soul? I also read several wildly popular online novels, but the themes alone were uninteresting—time travel, harem, mythology, and so on—yet they failed to convey any profound meaning. Of course, I admit that today's online writers are indeed very talented; at least they dare to experiment and break boundaries. However, whether they can become classic masterpieces remains to be seen. Later writers, when learning from their predecessors, often only achieve a superficial resemblance, lacking the spirit and essence, possessing only the framework but not the character.

    Unfortunately, all the books I like are older works. The fervor I felt back then has faded, and the classics of the past can no longer be replicated. New books these days, whether in terms of intellectual depth, artistic merit, or even aesthetic value, simply cannot compare to the older ones. Sometimes when I'm feeling bored, I read books by foreign female authors to pass the time. I love Margaret Mitchell's *Gone with the Wind*, Jane Austen's *Pride and Prejudice*, Charlotte Brontë's *Jane Eyre*, Daphne's *Rebecca*, and Emily Brontë's *Wuthering Heights*. These classics truly deserve to be read and reread. Although I have some xenophobic tendencies, I still deeply admire their extraordinary talent and beautiful writing.

    I truly hope that one day I can stop being nostalgic and instead embrace the present. But right now, I can't, and I don't want to. So, tonight, I'll sleep with my old books.