門縫竊窺 Peering Through the Door-Crack
蹬開大腿,三五跳,跳到門邊,自門縫裡鑽將進去,蹲在那壁根下,迎著裡面燈光,仔細觀看。只見那大小群妖,一個個狼餐虎嚥,正都吃東西哩。行者揲揲鎚鎚的叫了一遍。少時間,收了家火,又都去安排窩鋪,各各安身。蹬开大腿,三五跳,跳到门边,自门缝里钻将进去,蹲在那壁根下,迎着里面灯光,仔细观看。只见那大小群妖,一个个狼餐虎咽,正都吃东西哩。行者揲揲锤锤的叫了一遍。少时间,收了家火,又都去安排窝铺,各各安身。
逐句解 Line by line
He kicked out his hind legs, made three or five hops to the edge of the door, squeezed in through the crack, crouched at the foot of the wall inside, and, turned toward the lamplight within, looked carefully about.
The camera drops to floor level and stays there. 蹬開大腿: 蹬 is dēng. 鑽將進去: 將 is jiāng, marking direction. 那壁根 points at a particular spot, so 那 is nà. 迎著: 著 is zhe, a position held. 仔細: 仔 is zǐ. 觀看: 觀 is guān, to observe, not the guàn that names a Daoist abbey; 看 is kàn.
He saw the whole rabble of imps, great and small, every one of them gorging like wolves and bolting like tigers, all just then at their food.
那大小群妖 points, so 那 is nà. 狼餐虎嚥 — "to feed like wolves and swallow like tigers" — is still the phrase Chinese reaches for when someone is wolfing food down. 都 is dōu; sentence-final 哩 is li.
Pilgrim let out one round of chirring.
A professional touch, this. 揲揲鎚鎚 imitates the sound: the cricket's stridulation, written out in two doubled syllables. 叫了一遍: 了 is le, and 一 shifts to yí before 遍 (fourth tone). He does not merely look like a cricket. He sounds like one.
Before long they cleared away the gear, and all went off to make up their sleeping berths and settle themselves for the night.
少時間: 少 is shǎo and 間 is jiān — "a short while." 家火 is the cooking things, written in modern Chinese as 傢伙. 窩鋪: 鋪 is pù, the noun, a berth or bunk. 收了: 了 is le; 都 is dōu.
The point of view narrows to an insect's, and the prose obediently follows: legs, hops, the crack under the door, the foot of the wall, the lamplight ahead. Nothing is described that a cricket on the floor could not see. It is a technique the book uses sparingly and always to the same end — the reader is put inside the disguise rather than beside it, and the demons' household is suddenly something observed from below.
The chirp is the detail worth pausing on. Wukong has already changed shape; the cry is pure surplus, and it is exactly what a professional would add. He gives one round of it and the room takes no notice, which is the proof he needs before committing to a night indoors. Then the imps clear the supper things and bed down, and the narrator lets the domestic detail do its work: this cave is not a fortress but a household, with servants, meals and berths — and, as the next passage discovers, a master who does not take his jewellery off to sleep.