My Dad's Wood Speaks

On the day the demolition notice was posted at the shop entrance, Shen Mo set up his camera. His father didn't even look up: "What are you filming this for? No one's going to watch it." Shen Mo said: "I'm filming it for myself." His father paused, the plane hovering in midair: "Then go ahead. But don't film my face—I don't photograph well." 25-year-old Shen Mo, unable to find a job in the city, returns to his hometown and discovers that his father's carpentry shop, which has been running for thirty years, is about to be demolished. His father is one of the last traditional carpenters in town, who never uses a single nail in his life—everything is done with mortise and tenon joints. Shen Mo decides to make a documentary, recording the process of his father making the last batch of furniture. At first, he just wanted to "make a film," but the more he filmed, the more he realized he didn't understand his father at all—what does it mean that "wood breathes"? What does it mean that "mortise and tenon are a conversation between woods"? Why is there an old plane hidden in the rice jar? Why is there an unfinished chair on the blueprint left by his mother? When the shop is finally demolished and the documentary is edited, his father watches it and says only one thing: "You made the mortise and tenon too complicated. It's really just one sentence—wood and wood need to talk nicely to each other." This is a story of a son using a camera to get to know his father again. It's also a story about leaving a gap for love to live on. — Description from novelcodex.orgFull novel: My Dad's Wood Speaks — read the rest free on N​o⁠v​e⁠l​C⁠o​d⁠e​x⁠.​o⁠r​g⁠