Canonical Classics ← 第七十三回
第七十三回
qíngyīnjiùhènshēngzāi
xīnzhǔzāoxìngguāng

Passion from an Old Grudge Breeds a Venomous Calamity · The Mind-Lord Meets a Demon and Is Saved by the Breaking Light

樓閣重重
模式 Mode Read Study
拼音 Pinyin Off
字體 Script
原文 Original text 繁體 Traditional Reader's edition

樓閣重重 Tier Upon Tier Of Towers

huàshuōsūnshèngchízhetángsēngjièshāsēngbēnshàngzhí西láibànshǎngjiànchùlóuchóngchónggōng殿diànwēiwēitángsēngdào:「kànshìshénmechù?」huàshuōsūnshèngchízhetángsēngjièshāsēngbēnshàngzhí西láibànshǎngjiànchùlóuchóngchónggōng殿diànwēiwēitángsēngdào:「kànshìshénmechù?」


逐句解 Line by line

huàshuōsūnshèngchízhetángsēngjièshāsēngbēnshàngzhí西lái huàshuōsūnshèngchízhetángsēngjièshāsēngbēnshàngzhí西lái

We tell now how the Great Sage Sun, steadying the Tang Monk, hurried with Eight Rules and Sha Monk up onto the highroad and pressed straight on westward.

The chapter picks up in mid-stride. 話說 is the storyteller's hinge, roughly "so then" — a spoken join that tells you there is a teller in the room, and that something was going on before you sat down. 扶持著 is a hand under the elbow, helping someone along, and the is zhe, the marker that keeps an action running instead of finishing it. Sun is not helping; he is helping, mile after mile. It is one of four readings this character carries, and the only one that means the action is still going. (一直 lifts to yi before the rising tone of .)

bànshǎngjiànchùlóuchóngchónggōng殿diànwēiwēi bànshǎngjiànchùlóuchóngchónggōng殿diànwēiwēi

Before half a while had passed they came of a sudden on a place where towers rose tier upon tier and halls stood up in majesty.

半晌 is a soft measure — half of one of the day's loose stretches — so 不半晌 means "before long" rather than any number of minutes. Then two doublings in a row. 重重 is chóng chóng, layer on layer, not zhòng, heavy: the towers are stacked, not weighty. 巍巍 answers it with sheer height. Chinese verse, and this kind of showy prose, both use a doubled character to make an adjective hold its note, the way a singer leans on a word. ( becomes before the falling tone of , and becomes before the falling tone of .)

tángsēngdào:「kànshìshénmechù?」 tángsēngdào:「kànshìshénmechù?」

The Tang Monk reined in his horse. "Disciples," he said, "look there — what sort of place is that?"

Reining in is the tell. The Tang Monk stops before he asks, every time a building appears, and the asking is how these episodes begin. is here, not the lēi a modern dictionary offers first. 康熙 力部九畫 gives 盧則切, an old entering-tone syllable, and defines it 馬頭絡銜也 — the bit and bridle at a horse's head. The word is about horse tack before it is about anything else, which is why 懸崖勒馬, reining in at the cliff edge, is still the idiom for stopping just in time. 中原音韻 files it in one band only, 齊微 入聲作去聲. Neither book records a lēi. 去處 is simply a place, with as chù.


總評 Commentary

The pilgrims walk out of one trap straight towards another, and the seam between them is a single word. Nothing in these three sentences says what happened last, but the chapter has not forgotten: further on, a Daoist asks them point-blank whether they begged a meal at Gossamer Cave and whether they bathed at the Filth-Cleansing Spring. Both places are named four times each before the chapter is done. The road here is empty. It is not innocent.

What follows is one of the book's most reliable rhythms. Buildings appear, the Tang Monk halts and asks what they are, a disciple looks and reports, and in they go. It has worked out badly often enough that a reader tenses at 忽見. The narrator knows this and slows down anyway, spending an eighty-two-character set-piece on the view before anybody knocks.

Worth noticing how much work the doubled characters do. There are seven pairs in this opening scene — 重重, 巍巍, and five more still to come — and four of them fall inside the verse. It is the cheapest and oldest way to make Chinese prose sound like description rather than narration, and English cannot copy it without sounding like a nursery rhyme.