第十六回 · 灰燼之中 Among the Ashes — Journey to the West

原文 Original text 繁體 Traditional Reader's edition

灰燼之中 Among the Ashes

那nà場cháng火huǒ只zhǐ燒shāo到dào五wǔ更gēng天tiān明míng，方fāng才cái滅miè息xī。你nǐ看kàn那nà眾zhòng僧sēng們men赤chì赤chì精jīng精jīng，啼tí啼tí哭kū哭kū，都dōu去qù那nà灰huī內nèi尋xún銅tóng鐵tiě，撥bō腐fǔ炭tàn，撲pū金jīn銀yín。有yǒu的de在zài牆qiáng筐kuāng裡lǐ，苫shān搭dā窩wō棚péng；有yǒu的de赤chì壁bì根gēn頭tóu，支zhī鍋guō造zào飯fàn。叫jiào冤yuān叫jiào屈qū，亂luàn嚷rǎng亂luàn鬧nào不bù題tí。那nà场cháng火huǒ只zhǐ烧shāo到dào五wǔ更gēng天tiān明míng，方fāng才cái灭miè息xī。你nǐ看kàn那nà众zhòng僧sēng们men赤chì赤chì精jīng精jīng，啼tí啼tí哭kū哭kū，都dōu去qù那nà灰huī内nèi寻xún铜tóng铁tiě，拨bō腐fǔ炭tàn，扑pū金jīn银yín。有yǒu的de在zài墙qiáng筐kuāng里lǐ，苫shān搭dā窝wō棚péng；有yǒu的de赤chì壁bì根gēn头tóu，支zhī锅guō造zào饭fàn。叫jiào冤yuān叫jiào屈qū，乱luàn嚷rǎng乱luàn闹nào不bù题tí。

逐句解 Line by line

那nà場cháng火huǒ只zhǐ燒shāo到dào五wǔ更gēng天tiān明míng，方fāng才cái滅miè息xī。那nà场cháng火huǒ只zhǐ烧shāo到dào五wǔ更gēng天tiān明míng，方fāng才cái灭miè息xī。

That fire burned on until the fifth watch and the light of dawn, and only then went out.

五更 is the fifth night-watch, roughly three to five in the morning. 更 is gēng. The fire runs the whole night through and then dies of its own accord; nobody puts it out.

你nǐ看kàn那nà眾zhòng僧sēng們men赤chì赤chì精jīng精jīng，啼tí啼tí哭kū哭kū，都dōu去qù那nà灰huī內nèi尋xún銅tóng鐵tiě，撥bō腐fǔ炭tàn，撲pū金jīn銀yín。你nǐ看kàn那nà众zhòng僧sēng们men赤chì赤chì精jīng精jīng，啼tí啼tí哭kū哭kū，都dōu去qù那nà灰huī内nèi寻xún铜tóng铁tiě，拨bō腐fǔ炭tàn，扑pū金jīn银yín。

See the monks: stripped bare, weeping and wailing, all of them poking in the ashes for copper and iron, raking over the rotted charcoal, scrabbling after gold and silver.

赤赤精精 is vernacular for stark naked, "stripped to the skin"; 啼啼哭哭 is weeping and sobbing. Then three verbs: 尋 for the copper and iron, 撥 for the rotted charcoal, 撲 for the gold and silver. In the ashes of a monastery, nobody is looking for a sūtra.

有yǒu的de在zài牆qiáng筐kuāng裡lǐ，苫shān搭dā窩wō棚péng；有yǒu的de赤chì壁bì根gēn頭tóu，支zhī鍋guō造zào飯fàn。有yǒu的de在zài墙qiáng筐kuāng里lǐ，苫shān搭dā窝wō棚péng；有yǒu的de赤chì壁bì根gēn头tóu，支zhī锅guō造zào饭fàn。

Some were in the corners of the walls, thatching themselves lean-tos; some at the foot of a scorched wall were propping up a pot to cook rice.

苫搭窩棚 is to thatch a rough shelter; 赤壁根頭 is at the foot of a fire-blackened wall. The community reconstitutes itself as a camp within hours — pots, rice, lean-tos — with all the brisk efficiency of people who are used to owning things.

叫jiào冤yuān叫jiào屈qū，亂luàn嚷rǎng亂luàn鬧nào不bù題tí。叫jiào冤yuān叫jiào屈qū，乱luàn嚷rǎng乱luàn闹nào不bù题tí。

They cried out on their wrongs and their injuries, shouting and clamouring in confusion — of which no more.

叫冤叫屈 is "crying injustice, crying wrong." They are the arsonists. Not one character of the sentence concedes it, and the storyteller closes the thread with 不題 and turns away without a word of comment.

總評 Commentary

Seventy-two characters, and no narrator anywhere in them. The fire goes out at dawn. The monks, naked and weeping, sift the ashes — and what they sift for is copper, iron, gold, silver. They put up lean-tos against the scorched walls and set pots on to boil. And they cry 冤 and 屈, injustice and wrong, which is what a Chinese subject cries when a magistrate has ruled against him unfairly.

The passage is a masterpiece of withheld judgement. Wú Chéng'ēn could have written a single clause reminding us who lit the fire; instead he writes 叫冤叫屈，亂嚷亂鬧不題 and shuts the door. What survives the burning of the Guanyin Monastery is exactly what the monastery was: an appetite for metal, a talent for arrangements, and a conviction of having been wronged. It is worth remembering that the two guests they meant to burn alive slept through the whole night unharmed, and that nobody has yet gone to look.