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《中華人文（2018第1輯）》是一本譯介中國當代作傢作品兼顧中國當代藝術的全英文圖書。本書以兼容並蓄的精神擇選稿件，旨在嚮英語世界譯介中華人文，特彆是中國當代文學創作的優秀成果，弘揚中華人文精神，促進中華文化交流。
內容簡介
本輯主推作傢是葉彌，共收錄瞭葉彌的三篇短篇小說《明月寺》《雪花禪》和《香爐山》》、一篇訪談和一篇評論。本輯新增欄目“經典迴聲”，介紹瞭老子（包括《道德經》的部分翻譯和一篇與此相關的文章。
作者簡介
主編
楊昊成
江蘇宜興人，1963年生。博士，教授，江蘇省外國文學學會會員，江蘇省外國語言學會會員，南京市翻譯傢協會會員，南京師範大學外國語學院美國文明研究所所長，全英文期刊Chinese Arts and Letters（《中華人文》）主編。
目錄
Editor’s Note
by Yang Haocheng （楊昊成）
Featured Author: Ye Mi （葉彌）
Bright Moon Temple （《明月寺》）
Snowflake Meditation （《雪花禪》）
Mount Xianglu （《香爐山》）
Critique
The Enlightened Way of Fiction by Zhang Xuexin （張學昕）
Interview
An Interview with Ye Mi by Jin Ying （金瑩）
Culture & Heritage
The Essentials of Chinese Calligraphy by Yang Haocheng （楊昊成）
Echoes of Classics
Introduction to Laozi and His Daodejing by Bill Porter
Selections from Daodejing
Short Stories
Wealth, Blessings and Longevity （《福祿壽》） by Pang Yu
（龐羽）
Prose
Bluestone Alleys （《青石小街》） by Fei Zhenzhong （費振鍾）
Rain in the Old Village （《古村的雨》） by Fei Zhenzhong
（費振鍾）
Poems
Poems by Hu Xian （鬍弦）
Art
Coffee Pot or Water Jug? by Shen Li （瀋黎）
精彩書摘
Bright Moon Temple
Ye Mi /葉 彌
Translated by Ella Schwalb
In springtime, when the sunshine was goading all kinds of flowers to struggle into bloom, I slung my backpack over my shoulder and left home. I wanted to go see
the blossoms. The season was sure to lose its pristine sparkle in two weeks’ time—many flowers would start to wilt on their branches, and petals would fall to the dust in droves. So I wanted to take it all in before the spring turned dull and dirty, to see how the flowers blossomed. Once this moment passed, would there be anything left blooming for me to see?
My aim was simple. I squinted in the sun as it shone down on my face, and then I leisurely set out, heading south.
I got to some mountains after a while. Peach blossoms stretched as far as the eye could see, and the earth and sky were all flooded with sun as the sweet wind drifted by above the flowering trees. In the soft, warm chuckle of that all-pervasive
sunshine, I ceased to exist, my steps light and buoyant as though I were the sun’s own two feet.
I was walking along when someone behind me said,“Hey there, where are you headed?”
I turned around and saw a swarthy old villager with a stick-straight back walking behind me.
“I’m taking a springtime walk,” I said.
I hung back a bit, and the old man caught up to me.
“You’ve come from the city,” he concluded confidently. Then he continued, as though talking to himself, “I’m just coming back from the city myself. I went yesterday on a transport ship that belongs to a relative, so I got a free ride. I started back first thing this morning, and caught a little town bus, but they wanted to charge me twelve yuan. I got mad, and got off halfway without paying them even one cent. That’s how I managed to save twelve yuan on my way there, and then six more on my way back.”
I laughed to myself. He peered at my face, then said earnestly, “Nobody comes by these parts, as there are no touristic sites here. It has been an obscure locale from time immemorial.” I couldn’t help but let out a great belly laugh when I heard the old man putting on airs like this. But he didn’t pay me any mind, and just went on talking, “Erlang Mountain is the only good thing to see. Bright Moon Temple is up there, and there are lots of flowering plants and bamboo. There are pheasants too, and to the south and east of the mountain there’s a lake with wild ducks in it. People say that if the pheasants mate with the ducks, they make a phoenix... yes, this mountain is well worth seeing, so you might as well go up and take a look around. You can stay in the temple for twenty yuan a night, three meals included. The only people up there are the couple who run the temple. They used to be regular folk—from the city, like you. They came in the spring of 1970, but nobody knows why. It’s been almost thirty years now, and they’ve never had any family come to visit... The man is named Master Luo, and the woman Master Bo, and even though they run the temple, they still dress like commoners and live together as husband and wife, sleeping in the same room and everything. Isn’t that strange?”
前言/序言
To be frank, I started reading Ye Mi (葉彌) only a little over three years ago when she was recommended to me by both Su Tong (蘇童) and Fan Xiaoqing (範小青), who said that she was a writer of real narrative power with a unique style of her own. The first story I read of hers and then published in CAL is“Family,” one that is vastly different from others in that it smacks of a strong flavor of the ambiance prevalent in the writings of the Republican period of China. Her mind seems to me to be totally engrossed in a serene world far away from the madding crowd of today. Mountains and flowers, temples and monasteries, the bright moon and a sprinkling of lonely, leisurely souls—all these seem to have made up the entire world of her literary landscape. She is instinctively attached to these things and people and seems to have little interest in what is going on in this world of mundane existence. I’ve always been wondering what could possibly be the reason behind this literary preference of hers. Then I was reminded of her retreat from the city to the countryside a few years ago, where she preferred a self-contained, rustic life with her patches of vegetables and fruit trees and flocks of fowls and pets. Ye Mi is my age and not that old to retire to the country like China’s reputed recluses of the olden days when they had either suffered enough setbacks in the realistic world, or when they were tired of the schemes and struggles of the outside world and dreamed of withdrawing to the mountains and waters for an unperturbed life. Ye Mi seems to fit into neither category. But then who knows! What I do know is that the female author is very happy with what she has and what she is. She is at present the proud master of her own house at the side of the Taihu Lake, now working in the fields, now walking with her cherished pets, but most of the time peacefully working away at her letters.
Starting this issue, CAL has a new column added to it:“Echoes of Classics.” We’ll pick and choose those cultural and literary gems throughout the history of Chinese civilization from Laozi’s Daodejing, Confucius’ Analects, the pre-Qin prose, the works of the Pléiade of the Bamboo Grove, Tang and Song poetry, Yuan drama, Ming and Qing fiction, all the way down to the May 4th literary masterpieces. For Daodejing, which is the first on our long list and is known to have been the most translated Chinese classic with one hundred versions or so in English alone, we hesitated a lot as to which of these renditions to choose. James Legge? Frederic Henry Balfour? Witter Bynner? Arthur Waley? Lin Yutang (林語堂)? Or D.C. Lau (劉殿爵)? All towering figures in sinology or literary translation, but finally we came down to Bill Porter, a.k.a. Red Pine, a name with some Zen implication in it which Porter adopted for himself after more than a dozen years of life and work in Taiwan and Hong Kong. His rendition of Daodejing, using simple enough English to capture the austere and sometimes elusive meaning of the original text, impresses me as having the advantage of better fluidity in reading and easier accessibility to the modern reader. What is more noteworthy is his eclectic selection from the ocean of literary commentaries and exegeses on Daodejing throughout Chinese literary history which is yet another sure evidence of Porter’s extensive reading and rigorous scholarship. Dadejing, like The Analects, with its colloquial style, is relatively a simple text, but translating it is by no means easy. That’s why the Canadian sinologist W.A.C.H. Dobson, whose translation of Mencius won him world-wide accolade, said that it was time for a sinologist to retire when he announced that he was working on a new version of Daodejing. We don’t know exactly what is behind Dobson’s words, but we are moved by Porter’s courage to take up the challenge of translating this Daoist classic at an age when most people would prefer a cozy, retired life with their family and yet he decided to follow the dictates of his heart and set his mind on burning the long, solitary midnight oil.
One of the problems prior to translating Daodejing is that the translator will come across different versions of the text, including different punctuations, for throughout the ages, the text of Daodijing underwent numerous recensions and each would claim itself to be authentic. This alone will result in different enough interpretations and accordingly, divergent renditions. I take this to be quite normal with most ancient texts. Porter claims to have compared several dozen
versions of the original and we respect his final choice of the version to base his translation on.
The whole text of Daodejing, which is made up of the Scriptures of Dao (Way) and the Scriptures of De (Virture), has 81 chapters in all and approximately 5,400 words. It is impossible
to have the entire text and its English equivalent printed here in CAL. Besides, some sayings are more or less redundant semantically. We’ve picked those most well-known sayings, 16 chapters in all, for our readers. For those who care to do further comparative research on the classic, we’ve put the original Chinese alongside its English translation. And to make the Chinese look more like a bona fide original text, we’ve arranged it in the traditional rather than the simplified script and on a vertical setting of types. This arrangement will remain unchanged with all the other Chinese texts in“Echoes of Classics” that are to follow. Porter’s illuminating Introduction to Laozi, Daodejing and his translation of the work in Mercury House in 1996 is also printed here for those who might be first readers of this Daoist classic.
And a bit of change to one of CAL’s regular columns“Articles.” Renamed “Culture and Heritage,” this column, self-evidently more revealing by the sheer name of it, will include anything written, or translated, about Chinese culture at large, regardless of genre, style, time period, or subject matter. “The Essentials of Chinese Calligraphy,” my piece based on my two Dartmouth lectures during my one-year stint as a post-doc at Harvard twelve years ago, is printed here for the scrutinizing eye of both the professionals and common lovers of Chinese calligraphy. Comprised of three parts, viz., Evolution, Aesthetic, and Technique, the article is meant not as a pure academic research into one of the most abstract forms of traditional Chinese art, but as a primary on a brief history of calligraphy, on how calligraphy is usually appreciated, and how calligraphy is normally practiced. Each and every word is spoken from my thirty-odd years of experience of daily practice and I hope I’m not blowing my own trumpet.
The short story in this issue is Pang Yu’ (龐羽) “Wealth, lessings and Longevity.” As a young writer of the post-90s generation, Pang is a rising star in contemporary Chinese literary arena, and her style is easily recognizable for its raciness and saltatory way of thinking and word manipulation. Not easy to translate though, and that’s why we’ve asked Denis Mair, one of our most adept and exact translators, to do the job, and even he acknowledged to have to “wrestle with the picturesqueness of the language” in order to best preserve its“folksy charm.”
One needs a pair of poetic eyes to see the extraordinary through the ordinary, and that’s the case with Hu Xian (鬍弦), the featured poet of this issue of CAL. There really is nothing remarkably stunning about the things he writes about, pebbles, trees, clouds, roads, spiders, circus troupes, fish on a chopping board, etc., but our poet has unusually keen antennae for the nature of these insignificant things or their facets easily ignored by us commoners. Even the decadent is transformed into the magical, as “Insects in Amber” well manifests, and that’s what poetry is all about, I guess.
After a whole three years of reticence, Shen Li (瀋黎) resurfaces with her short piece on Lin Fengmian (林風眠), one of the most successful Sinicizers of western painting tradition of 20th century China. Lin was a very lonely man throughout most of his career; he was active in the artistic circles only in his early and later life, but other than that, he was rejected and marginalized, even maltreated in his prime years largely due to the ignorance of his contemporaries. Paradoxically, however, the misfortune turned out to be an actual blessing. Pushed to the limbo, away from all the hustle and bustle in the mainstream, Lin was able to settle down to the ontological study and practice of painting. And faced with seemingly endless days and months to kill, he produced one after another the most dazzling works of art ranging from fishing villages, birds and trees, old-day maids to Peking opera figures, female nudes and still life of all kinds. Not until his octogenarian years though did he enjoy a triumphant comeback and a universal recognition as one of the few genuine masters of 20th century Chinese art history.
...
用戶評價
單憑書名，我能感受到它傳遞齣一種沉靜而厚重的學術氣息，仿佛是一本值得反復品讀的工具書，但又帶著一絲藝術的芬芳。我大膽猜測，這本書的內容極有可能涉及到對中國傳統藝術形式的深入剖析，比如中國畫的筆墨韻味，書法作品的結構美學，甚至包括戲麯錶演的程式化魅力。我期待它能提供一些關於藝術理論的嚴謹論述，幫助我理解不同藝術門類背後的哲學思想和美學追求。同時，我也希望它能穿插一些生動的案例，通過對具體作品的解讀，讓這些抽象的理論變得更加鮮活易懂。這本書或許能夠幫助我提升對中國傳統藝術的鑒賞能力，讓我不再是囫圇吞棗地觀看，而是能夠真正地體會到其中蘊含的東方智慧和獨特的神韻。
評分說實話，我一直對那些過於宏大敘事的曆史書感到有些畏懼，總覺得它們太過於冰冷和疏遠，難以引起共鳴。但《中華人文（2018第一輯）》的名字，卻給我一種截然不同的感覺。它沒有擺齣高高在上的姿態，反而更像是一位溫和的敘述者，輕聲細語地講述著那些與我們息息相關的故事。我設想，它也許會從一些具體的文化符號入手，比如一件古代的瓷器，一幅流傳韆古的書法，或者是一段鮮為人知的民間傳說，然後層層剝開，揭示其背後所承載的時代精神和民族情感。我期待它能提供一些新鮮的解讀，讓我們能夠以一種更加親切、更加人性化的方式去理解我們的傳統文化，而不是僅僅停留在曆史課本上的那些枯燥的年代和事件。我想，這本書或許能幫助我重新發現那些被遺忘的美好，讓我在忙碌的生活中，也能找到一份屬於自己的文化歸屬感和精神寄托。
評分這本書的封麵設計就深深吸引瞭我，一種古樸而又充滿生命力的視覺語言撲麵而來，讓人立刻感受到背後蘊含的深厚文化底蘊。翻開扉頁，那一串熟悉的中文和英文書名，瞬間拉近瞭與讀者的距離。雖然我還沒有真正深入閱讀內容，但僅僅是這份沉甸甸的質感，以及其中透露齣的丁寧與嚴謹，就足以讓我對它充滿期待。我猜想，這本《中華人文》一定如同一個精心打磨的玉器，每一頁都凝聚著匠心，每一次翻動都能觸碰到曆史的溫度。它或許不像市麵上一些浮光掠影的文化讀物，更像是一壇陳年的老酒，需要時間去品味，去體會其中的甘醇與迴味。我尤其好奇，它會以何種角度去解讀“人文”這兩個字，是著重於藝術的傳承，還是思想的演變？又或是兩者兼而有之，形成一種獨特的視角？我想，這一定是一次對中華文明深度探索的邀請，而我，正迫不及待地想要踏入其中，去感受那跨越時空的智慧與魅力。
評分當我看到這本書的編纂年份是2018年，並且標注為“第一輯”，我立刻聯想到它可能是一個係列作品的開端，這讓我感到非常興奮。這意味著，這不僅僅是一本孤立的讀物，而是一個更宏大、更持續的文化工程的起點。我猜測，這個係列可能會涵蓋中華人文的方方麵麵，從古代的哲學思想，到近代的文學藝術，再到當代的文化現象，都有可能被納入其中。而2018年的視角，又為它增添瞭一層特殊的意義，它既能迴溯曆史，又能關照當下，或許還能對未來的文化發展有所啓示。我非常好奇，編輯團隊是如何構建這個係列的整體框架的，他們選擇瞭哪些主題，又邀請瞭哪些領域的專傢學者來撰寫文章？我甚至可以想象，未來每一年的“輯”都會帶來不同的驚喜，就像每年一次的文化盛宴，讓人充滿期待。
評分這本書的書名，尤其是“人文”二字，讓我聯想到很多與人類生活、情感、思想息息相關的內容。我猜測，它可能不會僅僅停留在學術的層麵，而會更加注重人文精神的探討。或許，書中會有一些關於古代文人心境的描摹，對他們生活方式的還原，以及他們如何在那個時代尋求精神的慰藉和價值的實現。我期待它能觸及一些更深層次的關於“人”的思考，比如古人如何看待生死，如何處理人際關係，如何在睏境中保持內心的平靜與高潔。我更希望，這本書能夠將這些古老的智慧與我們當下的生活連接起來，讓我們從中汲取養分，從而更好地理解我們自己，以及我們所處的世界。它可能是一麵鏡子，照見我們內心深處的渴望，也可能是一盞明燈，指引我們前行的方嚮。
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