單直裰 Warm And Out Of The Wind
老魔道:「你怎麼不出?」行者道:「你這妖精甚不通變。我自做和尚,十分淡薄,如今秋涼,我還穿個單直裰。這肚裡倒暖,又不透風,等我住過冬才好出來。」老魔道:「你怎么不出?」行者道:「你这妖精甚不通变。我自做和尚,十分淡薄,如今秋凉,我还穿个单直裰。这肚里倒暖,又不透风,等我住过冬才好出来。」
逐句解 Line by line
The old fiend said, "Why will you not come out?"
Six characters, and the demon is now conducting an interview with his own digestion.
Wukong said, "You are a very inflexible demon."
甚 is shèn here, very — against the shén of what that turns up later in the same scene. And 不通變 is the identical complaint Wukong made about Xuanzang a few thousand characters ago, when the master would not see the sense of sending Bajie along.
"Ever since I became a monk I have lived very thin. Now the autumn has turned cold and I am still wearing a single-layer robe."
直裰 is the straight-cut monk's robe, and 單 means unlined — one layer, no wadding. 還 is hái, still. The complaint is domestic and completely reasonable, and the chapter did open on the turn of the season.
"In here it is actually warm and there is no draught. Let me stay the winter out and then I will come."
倒 is dào here — the adverbial band, on the contrary, actually — against the dǎo of falling that the chapter uses for people going to the ground. Two readings, one character, a few hundred apart.
Wukong's argument is a tenancy claim. He is not defying the demon, he is explaining that the accommodation suits him: warm, no draught, and he is short of a winter robe. It is the same joke as the bottle, where his first complaint was about the temperature, and it is funnier here because this time he is right.
The detail about the unlined robe is doing quiet work. Monks in this book are genuinely poor, and Wukong has been walking west in one layer since the season turned in the opening lines of the chapter. The whole complaint is a joke, and it is also true.