Chapter 30 Lost back

How is the modern culture of several ancient civilizations in the world?It is difficult to have a unified standard of comparison, including the Nobel Prize in Literature.However, after all, the Nobel Prize in Literature also reflects the aesthetic acceptance status of the modern international society from one aspect. If the winner comes from an ancient civilization, it is easy to think of a distant echo. Najib of Egypt.Mahfouz was one of them, and he is still alive.I wanted to talk to him very much. When I asked, because he was old and had been seriously injured, we needed to make an appointment with an editor named Mawei of the Al-Ahram newspaper ten days in advance. We couldn’t wait for ten days. I can only give up.Suddenly I heard that a small coffee shop in the center of Cairo used to be a place he would visit every day, and many of his works were conceived there.I was very happy when I heard it, and thought it might be more important to visit this cafe than to his house.

His family lives on the west bank of the Nile, and the cafe is on the east side of the river. He has to cross two bridges every day to get there. The first bridge is from Hexi to Hexin Island, and the second bridge is from Hexin Island to Hedong.Located on the north side of the famous Liberation Square, the cafe is small and old, named Alibaba. Walk through a very narrow passage, climb up a small wooden ladder, and you will see a room of about 18 square meters.There are a couple of coffee tables, the one to the left of the window, where he sits.Looking out of the window, I first saw a leather bag hanging high in a leather goods store next door, and I could reach it.Ahead is the entrance of a subway station, with six or seven shoe shiners squatting.Looking up again, there are two buildings, one is the Hilton Hotel, and the other is the headquarters of the Arab League.

Mahfouz used to sit here and look out every day, with a small suspended electric fan turning slowly above his head.The oil-stained roof was so low it almost touched the tall man's head.But what he set his eyes on was this window in the downtown area, the small table inside the window, and the tranquility beside the small table.Here I revisit a boundary that distinguishes good and bad writers: Is it a small space but a big vision, or a big ostentation but little insight? Mahfouz won the Nobel Prize in Literature, not only Egypt, but the entire Arab world is excited.He is regarded as the soul of Arabia, and every bookstore reserves the most prominent position as his counter, and TV stations are constantly adapting his works into TV dramas.But he was still the same as before, walking on the street every day, crossing two bridges, touching the small stairs, sitting at this small table by the window, ordered a cup of coffee, and began to look out the window.Few people recognized him, the most civilian Egyptian old man.

However, someone was still thinking about him, and their eyes of hatred searched his back.One evening in October 1994, when he was walking home and had just crossed a bridge, a gangster rushed forward and stabbed him in the neck with a knife.He was sent to the hospital by passers-by and out of danger, but due to a nerve injury, his right hand cannot resume writing.The reason for the gangster's murder is said to be that one of his early works exposed the content of the underworld. After this world-shocking incident, the police began to guard him, and he didn't go out much.There is a pencil sketch hanging beside the small table on the second floor of the small cafe, with a few strokes, depicting him reading a newspaper here one day after winning the award.Standing at the small table, I thought, that the ancient glory of Arab culture once again shone here, but it was ruined by a villain whose name is still unknown.The city under the pyramid lost an important figure, a precious handwriting, and fell into loneliness again.

It is very difficult for civilization to continue, but it is easy for evil to destroy civilization. Here is another proof. I've always wondered what would happen if a group of ill-intentioned people, whether out of peer jealousy or out of control, planned to ruin a group of the most influential writers?I guess it is difficult to be optimistic, because it is extremely simple to start, but it is extremely difficult to rescue.Human beings have not established a mechanism to save civilization so far, and everything depends on a little conscience in the hearts of a few people, but how much power does that conscience have?Is there any way to bring them together?In fact, this kind of damage happened secretly every day, but Mafuzi was famous, and the gangsters were seen by everyone as soon as they started.We don't know the name of this gangster, but more importantly, many potential protagonists in the history of human civilization have disappeared under the hands of the gangster, and we don't know their names.

October 21, 1999, Cairo, overnight at Les 3 Pyramides Hotel