Six Records of a Floating Life by Shen Fu
Author:Shen Fu
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Group USA, Inc.
PART IV The Delights of Roaming Afar
I have travelled about working in government offices for thirty years now, and the only places in the world I have never been to are Szechuan, Kueichou and Yünnan. The pity is that wheel and hoof have followed one another in such quick succession. Everywhere I have gone I have been accompanying others, so that while beautiful mountains and rivers have passed before my eyes like drifting clouds and I have been able to form some rough idea of what they are like, I have never been able to search out and explore secluded places on my own.
I like to have my own opinion about things and not pay attention to other people’s approval or disapproval. In talking about poetry or painting, I am always ready to ignore what others value and to take some interest in what others ignore. And so it is with the beauty of famous scenery, which lies in any case entirely in what one feels about it oneself. Thus there are famous scenic spots which I do not feel are anything extraordinary, and there are unknown places that I think are quite wonderful. This is a record of the places I have visited during my life.
When I was fifteen my father, the Honorable Chia-fu, was employed by County Magistrate Chao at Shanyin.1 There was then an old scholar in Hangchou, Mr Chao Sheng-tsai, whose real name was Chuan, and County Magistrate Chao invited him to become tutor to his son. My father ordered me to kowtow to him and become his student also.
On days when I had no lessons I would take little trips. One day I went to Ho Mountain, a little more than ten li from the city. You could not reach it by land.
Nearing the mountain, you could see a stone cave, with a slab of rock above it that was split in half horizontally and looked as if it was about to collapse. If you rowed your boat in underneath the rock and into the cave, you entered a pool surrounded by high stone cliffs. This was called the Water Garden. By the water’s edge someone had built a stone pavilion five spans long. Opposite it the three characters ‘admire fish jumping’ were inscribed on the stone wall. No one knew how deep the water was, and people said that huge fish lurked on the bottom. I threw out some bait to see what would happen, but only a few small fish rose to it.
Behind the pavilion there was a path to the Land Garden, but that boasted only disorderly piles of small stones made up into an artificial rockery, some of the creations as wide as the palm of a hand, some tall stone pillars with a large rock fixed on top. The chisel marks still remained on all of them, however, and they were not in the least attractive.
Having finished my tour I had something to eat at the Water Pavilion, and told my servant to set off some exploding bamboo.
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