Canonical Classics ← 第五十三回
第五十三回
chánzhǔtūncānhuáiguǐyùn
huángyùnshuǐjiěxiétāi

The Master of Dhyāna, Swallowing His Meal, Conceives a Ghostly Pregnancy · The Yellow Dame Draws Water and Dissolves the Demon Foetus

頃刻過河
模式 Mode Read Study
拼音 Pinyin Off
字體 Script
原文 Original text 繁體 Traditional Reader's edition

頃刻過河 Crossing the River

xíngzhějìnchuánbiāndào:「shìbǎide?」réndào:「shì。」xíngzhědào:「shāogōngzàiquèzhuóshāochēngchuán?」rénwēixiàoyòngshǒutuōshàngtiàobǎnshāshàngjiāngxíngtiāoshàngxíngzhězheshīshàngtiàoránhòushùnguòchuánláijièqiānshàngbáishōuletiàobǎnrénchēngkāichuányáodòngjiǎngqǐngjiānguòleshēndēng西ànzhǎnglǎojiàoshāsēngjiěkāibāowénqiánchāoréngèngzhēngduōguǎjiānglǎnshuānzàibàngshuǐdezhuāngshàngxiàojìngzhuānglexíngzhějìnchuánbiāndào:「shìbǎide?」réndào:「shì。」xíngzhědào:「shāogōngzàiquèzhuóshāochēngchuán?」rénwēixiàoyòngshǒutuōshàngtiàobǎnshāshàngjiāngxíngtiāoshàngxíngzhězheshīshàngtiàoránhòushùnguòchuánláijièqiānshàngbáishōuletiàobǎnrénchēngkāichuányáodòngjiǎngqǐngjiānguòleshēndēng西ànzhǎnglǎojiàoshāsēngjiěkāibāowénqiánchāoréngèngzhēngduōguǎjiānglǎnshuānzàibàngshuǐdezhuāngshàngxiàojìngzhuāngle


逐句解 Line by line

xíngzhějìnchuánbiāndào:「shìbǎide?」 xíngzhějìnchuánbiāndào:「shìbǎide?」

Pilgrim came up to the side of the boat and said, "Are you the ferry-keeper?"

Wukong asks the plain question the rhapsody has just made necessary. 於 rather than 到 gives the sentence a faintly literary cast.

réndào:「shì。」 réndào:「shì。」

The woman said, "I am."

Five graphs, standing as their own segment. The narrative now names her 婦人 without comment, having withheld the fact through the whole rhapsody.

xíngzhědào:「shāogōngzàiquèzhuóshāochēngchuán?」 xíngzhědào:「shāogōngzàiquèzhuóshāochēngchuán?」

Pilgrim said, "How is it the boatman is not here, and the boat-woman is set to pole instead?"

卻著 is the causative-dispatch 著, ruled *zhuó* corpus-wide against pypinyin's *zhù*. Wukong's question assumes a husband who ought to be doing this work — the first time the novel lets a character notice the anomaly.

rénwēixiàoyòngshǒutuōshàngtiàobǎn rénwēixiàoyòngshǒutuōshàngtiàobǎn

The woman smiled faintly and gave no answer, but reached out a hand and drew up the gangplank.

微笑不答 is the chapter's most economical piece of foreshadowing. She does not lie; she simply declines to explain, and the explanation would have saved the pilgrims a great deal.

shāshàngjiāngxíngtiāoshàngxíngzhězheshīshàngtiàoránhòushùnguòchuánláijièqiānshàngbáishōuletiàobǎn shāshàngjiāngxíngtiāoshàngxíngzhězheshīshàngtiàoránhòushùnguòchuánláijièqiānshàngbáishōuletiàobǎn

Sha Monk carried the luggage aboard on his pole, Pilgrim helped his master up the plank, and then they brought the boat about; Eight Rules led the white horse on and took in the gangplank.

挑 here is *tiāo*, to carry on a shoulder-pole, against the *tiǎo* of 挑著草把 later in the chapter. 扶著 is durative *zhe*. Four clauses assign each pilgrim his customary office.

rénchēngkāichuányáodòngjiǎngqǐngjiānguòle rénchēngkāichuányáodòngjiǎngqǐngjiānguòle

The woman poled off, worked her oar, and in an instant they were across.

頃刻間 with 間 read *jiān*. The crossing itself takes fifteen graphs — the novel spends four times as long describing the boat as using it.

shēndēng西ànzhǎnglǎojiàoshāsēngjiěkāibāowénqiánchāo shēndēng西ànzhǎnglǎojiàoshāsēngjiěkāibāowénqiánchāo

Once ashore on the western bank, the elder bade Sha Monk open the bundle and take out a few coppers to give her.

教 is causative *jiào*; 解 is *jiě*, to untie. 錢鈔 is loose cash rather than any particular denomination.

réngèngzhēngduōguǎjiānglǎnshuānzàibàngshuǐdezhuāngshàngxiàojìngzhuāngle réngèngzhēngduōguǎjiānglǎnshuānzàibàngshuǐdezhuāngshàngxiàojìngzhuāngle

The woman did not haggle in the least over how much, but made the cable fast to a post at the water's edge and went off, all smiles, straight into her cottage.

更不爭 with 更 read *gèng*. 笑嘻嘻 is a broad, open smile, and the detail is the second in three sentences to attach amusement to this woman. Read forward from the next passage it acquires a different colour.


總評 Commentary

The crossing is dispatched in a single clause — 頃刻間過了河 — after nearly two hundred graphs spent on the boat and its keeper. The disproportion is the novel's usual method: description is where meaning is stored, and action is often a formality.

Wukong's question is the passage's hinge. Having seen the rhapsody's reveal, he asks where the boatman is and why a woman is doing the poling, and the question presumes an ordinary household with an ordinary division of labour. The woman's response — 微笑不答 — is neither evasion nor mockery exactly. She smiles and gets on with the work, and the novel lets her silence stand as the answer it is: there is no boatman, there are no men, and no explanation would be believed anyway.

Two further details reward attention on a second reading. She takes whatever coins are offered without haggling, and she goes into her house 笑嘻嘻, laughing to herself. The narrative offers no gloss. But she has just ferried four travellers across a river whose water she knows perfectly well what it does, and she has watched them go on their way without a word of warning. The good humour is not innocent.