簡說 永井荷風的"歌磨女郎" (浮世繪Kitagawa Utamaro 及文)，小說『濹東綺譚Bokutō Kidan』A Strange Tale from East of the River；『腕くらべ 』RIVALRY: A GEISHA'S TALE《各顯神通》/《較量》
https://www.facebook.com/hanching.chung/videos/591804082276183
永井荷風的"歌磨女郎"，小說『濹東綺譚』；『腕くらべ 』RIVALRY: A GEISHA'S TALE
"歌磨女郎"是永井荷風1911年看"帝室博物館"古板畫有感三篇之
喜多川 歌麿（Kitagawa Utamaro 、1753年頃? - 1806年 ）
一
我無法確知他的文字指的是那些畫.....
***
- A Strange Tale from East of the River (『濹東綺譚, Bokutō Kidan, 1937)
A Strange Tale from East of the River (濹東綺譚, Bokutō Kidan, 1937)
中文翻譯『濹東綺譚』收入：『永井荷風選集』陳薇譯，北京：作家出版社，1999，193~280
譚晶華 《濹東趣譚》收入《濹東綺譚--永井荷風小說選》上海三聯，2012，259~354
鮑耀明也有『濹東綺譚』的中譯本，可惜出版資料不全
『濹東綺譚』上海三聯 2012 第一頁就有打字錯誤
『濹東綺譚』末的"贅言"一章，很精彩，寫一位不遇的摯友神代種亮 (1883~1935，校對之神)
隨便可以舉『紅樓夢』的一首秋窗風雨夕，恨自己無法(力不從心)日譯：
作者：佚名
小說中，林黛玉病臥瀟湘館，秋夜聽雨聲淅瀝，燈下翻看《樂府雜稿》，見有《秋閨怨》、《別離怨》等詞，“不覺心有所感，亦不禁發於章句，遂成《代別離》一首，擬《春江花月夜》之格，乃名其詞曰《秋窗風雨夕》。”《春江花月夜》系初唐詩人張若虛所作，是一首寫離愁別恨的歌行。這首詩在格調和句法上都有意模仿它。“代別離·秋窗風雨夕”，前者是樂府題。代，如同“擬”，仿作的意思。用“代”字的樂府題，南朝詩人鮑照的集中特多。一般情況下，樂府詩不另外再加...
代別離·秋窗風雨夕
朝代：清代
作者：曹雪芹
原文：
秋花慘淡秋草黃，耿耿秋燈秋夜長。
已覺秋窗秋不盡，那堪風雨助淒涼！
助秋風雨來何速？驚破秋窗秋夢綠。
(抱得秋情不忍眠，自向秋屏移淚燭。
淚燭搖搖爇短檠，牽愁照恨動離情。
誰家秋院無風入？何處秋窗無雨聲？
羅衾不奈秋風力，殘漏聲催秋雨急。
連宵脈脈復颼颼，燈前似伴離人泣。
寒煙小院轉蕭條，疏竹虛窗時滴瀝。
不知風雨幾時休，已教淚灑窗紗溼。)
已覺秋窗秋不盡，那堪風雨助淒涼！
助秋風雨來何速？驚破秋窗秋夢綠。
(抱得秋情不忍眠，自向秋屏移淚燭。
淚燭搖搖爇短檠，牽愁照恨動離情。
誰家秋院無風入？何處秋窗無雨聲？
羅衾不奈秋風力，殘漏聲催秋雨急。
連宵脈脈復颼颼，燈前似伴離人泣。
寒煙小院轉蕭條，疏竹虛窗時滴瀝。
不知風雨幾時休，已教淚灑窗紗溼。)
作者：佚名
小說中，林黛玉病臥瀟湘館，秋夜聽雨聲淅瀝，燈下翻看《樂府雜稿》，見有《秋閨怨》、《別離怨》等詞，“不覺心有所感，亦不禁發於章句，遂成《代別離》一首，擬《春江花月夜》之格，乃名其詞曰《秋窗風雨夕》。”《春江花月夜》系初唐詩人張若虛所作，是一首寫離愁別恨的歌行。這首詩在格調和句法上都有意模仿它。“代別離·秋窗風雨夕”，前者是樂府題。代，如同“擬”，仿作的意思。用“代”字的樂府題，南朝詩人鮑照的集中特多。一般情況下，樂府詩不另外再加...
****
- Geisha in Rivalry (腕くらべ, Ude Kurabe, 1916-1917)
『腕くらべ 』
英文RIVALRY: A GEISHA'S TALE
有法文翻譯本等
中文： 譚晶華 《各顯神通》收入《濹東綺譚--永井荷風小說選》上海三聯，2012，39~166
陳微《較量》收入《永井荷風選集》北京：作家出版社，1999，1~160
[BOOK REVIEW] 'Rivalry' of the steamy and sensitive variety
'Rivalry: A Geisha's Tale,' the first English translation of the classic Japanese novel's full text, is nostalgic and honest about the early 20th-century performers
By Bradley Winterton / CONTRIBUTING REPORTER
RIVALRY: A GEISHA'S TALE
By Nagai Kafu
Translated by Stephen Snyder
165 pages
Columbia University Press
Much of Asia can still be rightly described as displaying a "massage culture." Sex, nominally disguised as massage, is offered by the attractive but impecunious young to the better-off males in establishments that have, to local eyes, nothing disreputable about them. European men discovered this age-old phenomenon with a sense of disbelief - its equivalents had long been banished, certainly in Anglo-Saxon countries, under the various manifestations of Puritanism. Thailand went on to built a tourism industry on its immemorial leisure-time habits, while in Japan the ancient structures were modified only by the arrival of general affluence. This has led to nostalgia there for the old ways, and in particular a fascination with the lifestyle and traditions of the geishas.
Rivalry: A Geisha's Tale, fresh from Columbia University Press in an English version by Stephen Snyder, is the first ever translation of the full text of the masterpiece of the early 20th century novelist and short-story writer Nagai Kafu. An earlier translation was only of a commercial edition that didn't include long erotic passages added later by the author for a private printing - he knew in advance that they'd be unacceptable to the government censor.
Nagai Kafu is a fascinating figure. Originally an editor of literary magazines specializing in the newly-fashionable French naturalism, he abandoned that work in order to embark on a life investigating Tokyo's erotic underworld. This was partly done, no doubt, for its own sake, but it was also undertaken in a spirit of devotion to the ethos of the old, pre-modern Japan, the traditions of which Kafu felt were in part preserved in the teahouses and theaters around which the geishas and other women of the night circulated.
Rivalry is a wonderful novel, with clearly distinguished characters, a swift narrative style, rich descriptions and incisive analyses of feelings and motives. It's set around 1912, and evokes a capital city already equipped with telephones, newspapers, cigarettes and trams. There are stockbrokers, new sessions of parliament and year-end sales. But still defining the life in the pleasure quarters are the ways of the Edo period which had ended over 40 years before, so that geishas continue to preside over the tea ceremony, dress with astonishing formality, and entertain rich businessmen, initially at least with performances on the shamisen.
Kafu understands perfectly well that differences of money, and hence of power, lie behind the sexual games his characters play. The geishas are contracted to the houses they work out of, and one of their main ambitions is to find a patron who will pay off this debt and set them up in financial independence. But at the same time they are young and sensual beings, falling in love with kabuki actors of their own age even while conducting by no means platonic affairs with their older clients. This is part of the rivalry of the title, and it's the main character's love for a young actor that triggers the fury of her patron, Yoshioka, even though he's by this time become tired of their sexual relationship and is looking around for new pleasure elsewhere.
It's strange that a novel as good as this has remained unpublished in English in its complete form for so long. It's true that for many decades after the extended edition was published in Japan (in 1917) passages from it would not have been permitted in, for instance, the UK. There are by no means disapproving references to oral and anal sex, for example, and the writing in general has an open-mindedness about it that is extremely refreshing. Even so, it has been through Arthur Golden's 1997 bestseller Memoirs of a Geisha - also a novel, though cast as an autobiography - that most modern readers have gotten to know about the geisha traditions. Kafu's older classic, by contrast, will please aesthetes and lovers of genuine literature far more.
Rivalry: A Geisha's Tale, fresh from Columbia University Press in an English version by Stephen Snyder, is the first ever translation of the full text of the masterpiece of the early 20th century novelist and short-story writer Nagai Kafu. An earlier translation was only of a commercial edition that didn't include long erotic passages added later by the author for a private printing - he knew in advance that they'd be unacceptable to the government censor.
Nagai Kafu is a fascinating figure. Originally an editor of literary magazines specializing in the newly-fashionable French naturalism, he abandoned that work in order to embark on a life investigating Tokyo's erotic underworld. This was partly done, no doubt, for its own sake, but it was also undertaken in a spirit of devotion to the ethos of the old, pre-modern Japan, the traditions of which Kafu felt were in part preserved in the teahouses and theaters around which the geishas and other women of the night circulated.
Rivalry is a wonderful novel, with clearly distinguished characters, a swift narrative style, rich descriptions and incisive analyses of feelings and motives. It's set around 1912, and evokes a capital city already equipped with telephones, newspapers, cigarettes and trams. There are stockbrokers, new sessions of parliament and year-end sales. But still defining the life in the pleasure quarters are the ways of the Edo period which had ended over 40 years before, so that geishas continue to preside over the tea ceremony, dress with astonishing formality, and entertain rich businessmen, initially at least with performances on the shamisen.
Kafu understands perfectly well that differences of money, and hence of power, lie behind the sexual games his characters play. The geishas are contracted to the houses they work out of, and one of their main ambitions is to find a patron who will pay off this debt and set them up in financial independence. But at the same time they are young and sensual beings, falling in love with kabuki actors of their own age even while conducting by no means platonic affairs with their older clients. This is part of the rivalry of the title, and it's the main character's love for a young actor that triggers the fury of her patron, Yoshioka, even though he's by this time become tired of their sexual relationship and is looking around for new pleasure elsewhere.
It's strange that a novel as good as this has remained unpublished in English in its complete form for so long. It's true that for many decades after the extended edition was published in Japan (in 1917) passages from it would not have been permitted in, for instance, the UK. There are by no means disapproving references to oral and anal sex, for example, and the writing in general has an open-mindedness about it that is extremely refreshing. Even so, it has been through Arthur Golden's 1997 bestseller Memoirs of a Geisha - also a novel, though cast as an autobiography - that most modern readers have gotten to know about the geisha traditions. Kafu's older classic, by contrast, will please aesthetes and lovers of genuine literature far more.
There's a long-standing tradition among Japan specialists of insisting that geishas were high-class entertainers most of whom would never allow the men they entertained to lay a finger on them. This is a long way from Kafu's view, and he was in an ideal position to know. Indeed, the description of one particularly outrageous senior geisha, Kikuchiyo, is so replete with sexual detail that I had to read it twice before I could believe my eyes.
But Kafu was no smut-peddler. At heart he was a lover of ancient Chinese poetry, like the writer Kurayama Nanso in the novel. Indeed, one of the characters he mocks most vigorously is Yamai, the editor of a new magazine specializing in pornographic photos. But then one of the attractions of this wonderful book is its range, even given its relative brevity and concision. There are as many different types of character, and of emotion, as there are in Tolstoy, even though Kafu's true masters were probably Maupassant and Turgenev, social realists with a sympathetic eye for subtleties of situation and nuances of feeling.
Kafu was an aesthete fascinated by sex, and predictably he had his own theory of desire. Whereas men of old sought to prove their masculinity in war or hunting, in the modern world they seek to do it by success in the fields of business and sexual predation. Yoshioka is his prime example of this, a handsome married man possessed of "an endless repertoire of obscene tricks," adept at concluding affairs, and endlessly seeking out new conquests "from girls of sixteen to women past forty." He finally finds his match in the frankly sensual Kikuchiyo.
Stephen Snyder is to be thanked both for translating this half-forgotten novel at all, and for doing it so compellingly. He is, incidentally, also the author of a critical book on Kafu entitled, appropriately enough, Fictions of Desire.
But Kafu was no smut-peddler. At heart he was a lover of ancient Chinese poetry, like the writer Kurayama Nanso in the novel. Indeed, one of the characters he mocks most vigorously is Yamai, the editor of a new magazine specializing in pornographic photos. But then one of the attractions of this wonderful book is its range, even given its relative brevity and concision. There are as many different types of character, and of emotion, as there are in Tolstoy, even though Kafu's true masters were probably Maupassant and Turgenev, social realists with a sympathetic eye for subtleties of situation and nuances of feeling.
Kafu was an aesthete fascinated by sex, and predictably he had his own theory of desire. Whereas men of old sought to prove their masculinity in war or hunting, in the modern world they seek to do it by success in the fields of business and sexual predation. Yoshioka is his prime example of this, a handsome married man possessed of "an endless repertoire of obscene tricks," adept at concluding affairs, and endlessly seeking out new conquests "from girls of sixteen to women past forty." He finally finds his match in the frankly sensual Kikuchiyo.
Stephen Snyder is to be thanked both for translating this half-forgotten novel at all, and for doing it so compellingly. He is, incidentally, also the author of a critical book on Kafu entitled, appropriately enough, Fictions of Desire.
Kimura
花柳小説
腕くらべ
荷風小史著
http://www.gutenberg.org/files/34636/34636-h/34636-h.htm晴日木屐
譯者: 陳德文出版社: 花城出版社 出版年: 2012
《晴日木屐(日本唯美大師閒踏晴日木屐漫遊記趣)》是日本唯美派開山祖永井荷風的散文代表作，首次全譯了深受周作人喜愛的專集《晴日木屐——東京散策記》。荷風腳踏晴日木屐，手拿蝙蝠傘，走遍東京大街小巷及郊外，詳敘見聞及心跡，特別記錄了在現代文明社會的衝擊之下，遭受嚴重摧殘的日本傳統文化和古代遺存；以悲惋的情調表達了對江戶世俗生活的回味與嚮往，凸顯了一個傳統文人在社會轉型時期的文化批判眼光。 《晴日木屐(日本唯美大師閒踏晴日木屐漫遊記趣)》文字細膩，筆調感人。
棄之如木屐說到木屐，日本也常提我們的謝靈運。這位一千五百多年前的南朝人物"常著木屐，上山則去其前齒，下山則去其後齒"，此法是否真可行，好像不曾有人用實踐檢驗。白川靜以研究漢字著名，他說謝公屐叫蠟屐，腳底的板與板下的齒用蠟連接。我漠然想，大概像卯與榫一般嚴絲合縫，塗蠟潤滑，才容易把齒卸下或裝上。至於日本的木屐，參觀作坊，卻是把一塊木頭從中曲折鋸開，便初具一對形狀，再精削細磨。底板鑿三孔，繫帶作人字，據清末廣東人黃遵憲的體驗，"必兩指間夾持用力乃能行".這人字不能倒過來，所以上山下山都只有一個趿拉法。周作人"覺得比廣東用皮條絡住腳背的還要好，因為這似乎更著力可以走路"，於是他穿了和服木屐，拄根文明棍，很是自在。謝靈運時代鞋類已頗多，木屐"以木為之，施兩齒"，是專門用來踐踏泥濘的，恐怕不適於登山，此公玩風流罷了。從出土文物來看，木屐很早隨稻作從中國江南傳入日本，但晉人陳壽在《三國志》中記載，日本"皆徒跣"，就是說木屐傳入是傳入了，日常卻未必就用它來走路。或許踏地作響，用以驅鬼，用以敬神，踏起歌來又可以代替鼓聲，且歌且舞。平日里人們不是打赤腳，就是穿"草鞋"或者"草履".社會進步，草履不斷地改良創新，你看見女人穿和服嬝娜如隨風飄去，倘若是正裝，她內八字拖沓的就應該是這玩藝兒。木屐的齒有高有低，高齒木屐的一大功用是平地出恭，類似於吾鄉早年的茅房用方磚兩塊，左右墊腳。歌舞昇平的江戶時代也過了一半，已經是18世紀中葉，刨鑿之類工具發達，這才出現了專門做木屐的作坊。於是，木屐在女人當中流行，二十年後男人也跟風。本來木屐和雨傘相配，對付有雨一街泥，後來卻成為時尚，晴天也穿出來聽響。還造出三個齒的，塗了黑漆，妓女之超女拖曳著遊行。 1901年，這一年警察開始練車，騎腳踏車巡街，當局頒布禁止跣足令，街頭巷尾便響徹踢裡踏拉聲。也有了板與齒拼裝而成的，例如晴日木屐。永井荷風寫過隨筆《晴日木屐》，他趿拉著這種木屐逛街，是東京天氣全然沒有信用的緣故。戰敗後物資匱乏，人們只有木屐可穿，1955年生產九千三百萬雙，創歷史紀錄。此後經濟起飛，男女老少穿上了皮鞋。 1964年舉辦奧運會，大街小巷都鋪上柏油，木屐就成了長物，蔽與不蔽，統統被棄之，天下闃然。前幾天觀看日本鐵道攝影展，一張老照片吸引了眼球，但興趣並不在火車，而是鐵道邊站成一排看火車風馳的孩子，木屐不良於跑，被他們別在腰里或拎在手上，此景題為木屐的記憶似更妙。在學校裡身上製服，腳下木屐呱噠呱噠，屬於粗野形象，有傷風紀，現今只有大學拉拉隊的隊長還弄成這副模樣。不過，有一個人物卻令我佩服，他叫島正博，上學穿木屐被老師申斥，回家動腦筋，在底板上嵌入橡膠墊靜音，從此走上發明之路，1965年開發全自動手套編織機。商店裡賣的毛衣，款式繁多，袖子不是後縫上的，而是像木屐一樣整體成型，這種編織機也是他發明。二胡不知從什麼時候起成為中國的國粹，把木屐算作日本的國粹我們也應該無話可說，並且為棄之而惋惜。而今只有夏日里看煙火，女孩裹上輕薄的和服，光著白白的腳丫拖木屐，風情猶存，但她們偶一為之，嬌呼腳趾疼。
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