2008年7月26日星期六

馭文之法

劉勰, 文心雕龍附會第四十三

夫畫者謹髮而易貌。射者儀毫而失牆。銳精細巧,必疏體統。故宜詘寸以信尺。枉尺以直尋。棄偏善之巧。學具美之績。此命篇之經略也。

夫文變多方。意見浮雜。約則義孤。博則辭叛。率故多尤。需為事賊。且才分不同。思緒各異。或製首以通尾。或片接以寸附。然通製者蓋寡。接附者甚眾。若統緒失宗。辭味必亂。義脈不流。則偏枯文體。夫能懸識湊理。然後節文自會。如膠之粘木。豆之合黃矣。是以駟牡異力,而六轡如琴。並駕齊驅。而一轂統輔。馭文之 法。有似於此。去留隨心。脩短在手。齊其步驟。總轡而已。

Stephen Owen 的翻译:

A Painter may be attentive to a hair and change the [overall] appearance [in a portrait]; an archer may focus on a single strand and miss the wall. Too sharp attention to some fine point of craft necessarily distances one from the governing unity of form. So we should bend the inch to make a reliable foot and twist the foot for the sake of the straight yard, reject craft in some one-sided excellence, and study the achievement of integral beauty. This is the enduring generality in producing a piece.

The mutations of literature have no bounds, and the points of view in concepts are various and unstable. If too terse, your truth will be solitary; if too extensive, the words may get out of control; insouciant haste brings many excesses; in hesitation the matter may get out of hand. Moreover, the measures of talent that people have are not the same; each differs in what his thoughts touch upon. Some work from the beginning straight through to the end; some join parts together by the inch and foot. I suspect, however, that those who work all the way through are few, while those who join [small sections] are many. In unifying sentiments, if you lose sight of what’s important, the flavor of the words will be confused; and if the veins through which a truth passes do not admit smooth flow, then the form of the work will become desiccated. Only after deep consideration of the whole pattern of pores in the skin will the sections naturally achieve coherence, as glue sticks to wood, as white tin mixes with yellow gold. A team of four horses may differ in strength, but the six reins that guide them are like the strings of a lute; they drive together on both sides of the carriage, one axle unifying all the spokes. The method of guiding a work of literature resembles this. One goes off or lingers as the mind wishes; keeping the reins tight or loose lies in the power of one’s hand. To make them prance together in an even pace is nothing more than gathering the reins together.

Readings in Chinese Literary Thought (Cambridge MA: Council of East Asian Studies, Harvard University, 1992), 269-270.


没有评论: