It has been nearly a month since we said goodbye, but I can relive virtually every moment of our timetogether in my hometown as if it were yesterday. With no concern for age or physical frailties1, youcrossed land and sea to come to this out-of-the-way spot and engage in literary conversations withme and with local fans of literature; we were deeply moved. On the second morning of the year, youfavoured us with a presentation in the county guesthouse auditorium2 that you called ‘Literature andLife’. With your permission, we would like to publish a transcription of the taped lecture in the localpublication Frog Calls, so as to make available to those who were unable to attend in person achance to appreciate and learn from your use of language.
On the morning of the first day of the year I accompanied you on a visit to my aunt, an obstetricianfor more than fifty years, and though she spoke3 too quickly in her accented Chinese for you to graspeverything she said, I am sure she left a deep impression on you. In your talk the next morning youcited her often in support of your views of literature. You said you came away with an image of adoctor racing4 across a frozen river on a bicycle; another of her with a medical kit5 slung6 over herback and an open umbrella in one hand, trouser cuffs7 rolled up, as she forces her way through amass8 of croaking9 frogs; yet another of a doctor laughing joyfully10 as she holds a newborn infant in herhands, her sleeves spattered with blood; and finally one of a doctor with a care-laden face, acigarette dangling11 from her lips, clothing rumpled12 . . . you said that all these mental picturessometimes come together into a single image and at other times split into discrete13 fragments, like aseries of carvings14. You urged local literature fans to create poignant15 works of art out of my aunt’slife, either in fiction, in verse, or in drama. Sensei, your encouragement has produced a creativepassion in many of us. An associate at the county cultural centre has already begun a novel about avillage obstetrician, and though my understanding of what my aunt accomplished16 is much greaterthan his, I do not want to enter into a competition and will leave the writing of a novel to him. What Iwant to do, sensei, is write a play about my aunt’s life. On the night of the second, when we weretalking as we sat on the kang at my house, I experienced an epiphany thanks to your high praise anddetailed analyses, as well as your unique insights into the plays of the Frenchman, Sartre. I want towrite, I feel I must write librettos17 as fine as The Flies and Dirty Hands, with the audacious goal ofbecoming a great playwright18. With your instruction as a guide, I will proceed slowly, without forcingthe issue, as patient as a frog on a lily pad waiting for insects to come its way. But when I put pen topaper, it will be with the speed of a frog jumping up to snatch an insect out of the air.
When I was seeing you off at the Qingdao airport, you asked me to send you in letters the story ofmy aunt’s life. Although she is still alive and well, I could describe her life using such potentmetaphors as ‘surging forth19 magnificently’ and ‘rife with twists and turns’. There are so manystories, and I don’t know how long this letter ought to be, so with your indulgence, I will put mymeagre talents to use by simply writing until the time has come to stop. In this age of computers,writing a letter with pen and paper has become a luxury, but a pleasurable one, and I hope that asyou read this, you enjoy a taste of olden times.
While I’m at it, I want to tell you that my father phoned to say that on the lunar twenty-fifth, redblossoms burst onto the tree in our yard, the one whose unique shape prompted you to call it a‘talented’ old plum. Many people came to witness our blooming plum, including my aunt. My fathersaid that a feathery snow fell that day, saturated20 with a redolence of plum blossoms that cleared thehead of anyone who smelled it.
Your student, Tadpole
21 March 2002, in Beijing
21 March 2002, in Beijing
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frailties
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n.脆弱( frailty的名词复数 );虚弱;(性格或行为上的)弱点;缺点 | |
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2
auditorium
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n.观众席,听众席;会堂,礼堂 | |
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spoke
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n.(车轮的)辐条;轮辐;破坏某人的计划;阻挠某人的行动 v.讲,谈(speak的过去式);说;演说;从某种观点来说 | |
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racing
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n.竞赛,赛马;adj.竞赛用的,赛马用的 | |
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kit
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n.用具包,成套工具;随身携带物 | |
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slung
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抛( sling的过去式和过去分词 ); 吊挂; 遣送; 押往 | |
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cuffs
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n.袖口( cuff的名词复数 )v.掌打,拳打( cuff的第三人称单数 ) | |
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amass
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vt.积累,积聚 | |
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croaking
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v.呱呱地叫( croak的现在分词 );用粗的声音说 | |
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joyfully
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adv. 喜悦地, 高兴地 | |
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dangling
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悬吊着( dangle的现在分词 ); 摆动不定; 用某事物诱惑…; 吊胃口 | |
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rumpled
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v.弄皱,使凌乱( rumple的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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discrete
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adj.个别的,分离的,不连续的 | |
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carvings
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n.雕刻( carving的名词复数 );雕刻术;雕刻品;雕刻物 | |
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poignant
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adj.令人痛苦的,辛酸的,惨痛的 | |
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accomplished
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adj.有才艺的;有造诣的;达到了的 | |
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librettos
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n.(歌剧等的)剧本( libretto的名词复数 ) | |
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playwright
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n.剧作家,编写剧本的人 | |
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forth
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adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
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saturated
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a.饱和的,充满的 | |
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