CONTENTS

 
  BACK TOWARD THE SEA— an overnight stay at Henan Temple 背向大海——夜宿和南寺
   By Lo Fu 洛夫
   Translated by John J. S. BALCOM 陶忘機
 
  THINKING OF YOU IN RAINY DAYS 憶你在雨季
   By Hsiung Hung 敻虹
   Translated by Lisa Lai-ming WONG 黃麗明
 
  ENEMY 仇家
   By Dominic Cheung 張錯
   Translated by John J. S. BALCOM 陶忘機
 
  FACES 面容
   By Shoo Tao秀陶
   Translated by Steve BRADBURY 柏艾格
 
  HOME 家
   By FONG Ming 方明
   Translated by John J. S. BALCOM 陶忘機
 
  TIME WITHOUT LETTERS 歲月無信
   By FONG Ming 方明
   Translated by John J. S. BALCOM 陶忘機
 
  THE KILLER 殺人者
   By Hwa Yen 華嚴
   Translated by Faye PENG 彭斐
 
  THE CURSE OF LIPSTICK 口紅咒
   By Chien Chen 簡媜
   Translated by Yingtsih HWANG 黃瑛姿
 
  THE OLD ALLEY IN THOSE DAYS 當年舊巷
   By Chien Chen 簡媜
   Translated by Yingtsih HWANG 黃瑛姿
 
  THE FAT GIRL’S RED CLOGS 胖女孩的紅木屐
   By KAN Yao-ming 甘耀明
   Translated by Michelle M. WU 吳敏嘉
 
 

ONCE UPON A TIME, WHEN THE PRINCE MET THE MERMAID PRINCESS... 從前從前,當王子遇上人魚公主⋯⋯
   By YANG Mei-hung 楊美紅
   Translated by Michelle M. WU 吳敏嘉

 
  7-11
   By HSU Cheng-Ping 許正平
   Translated by Mark I. HAMMONS 何邁
 
  GETTING TO KNOW YUYU YANG 認識楊英風
   By Yuyu Yang Foundation 楊英風藝術教育基金會
   Translated by Carlos G. TEE 鄭永康
 
  LIFESCAPE SCULPTURE: MODERN CHINESE ECOLOGICAL AESTHETICS 現代中國生態美學觀——景觀雕塑
    By Yuyu YANG 楊英風
    Translated by Carlos G. TEE 鄭永康
 
  LOCAL PASSION, AVANT-GARDE HEART: a few words written on the eve of Yuyu Yang’s exhibition 本土的情 前衛的心──寫在楊英風畫展之前
   By HSIAH Lifa 謝里法
   Translated by Carlos G. TEE 鄭永康
 
  NEWS & EVENTS 文化活動
   Compiled by Sarah Jen-hui HSIANG 項人慧
 
  NOTES ON AUTHORS AND TRANSLATORS
作者與譯者簡介
 
  APPENDIX : CHINESE ORIGINALS 附錄 :中文原著
 
  ADVENT OF THE PHOENIX (I) 鳳凰來儀(一),
stainless steel, 104 × 140 × 50 cm, 1970.....COVER
 
 

DRAGON SHRILL IN THE COSMIC VOID 龍嘯太虛(II)(A), stainless steel, 68 × 69 × 30 cm, 1991.........................................................BACK COVER
   By Yuyu YANG 楊英風

 

KAN Yao-ming 甘耀明

THE FAT GIRL’S RED CLOGS
胖女孩的紅木屐*

Translated by Michelle M. WU 吳敏嘉


     The village was home to three hundred people and thirty pigs. Among those that were capable of stuffing food into their mouths, Magnolia was the fattest. Magnolia only ate salads. Yet, it was very difficult to describe how fat she was. It was as difficult as describing the vastness of the sky and diligence of the ants. Fat people can wear loose-fitting robes, but shoes can be very difficult to come by. Magnolia had to go barefooted. In the summer, Magnolia walked around barefooted. It was perfectly okay, as the ground was warm and soft under the sun. But in the winter, it was an entirely different story. The frozen ground cut into her feet like blades, and Magnolia refused to walk around. She lay in bed, eating, drinking and sleeping all day. The legs of her bed groaned in pain all winter.
     When spring came, a fortuneteller came to the village. He was an astrologer, geomancer, horoscoper, exorcist, and shaman, all-in-one. He was especially good at putting an end to inappropriate love affairs. He had an entourage of apprentices and ethnographers who recorded and noted every word that he said. When Magnolia’s father, Wang Cheng-tu learned of his arrival, he dragged his daughter to the temple to meet the fortuneteller.
     Many people went to see the fortuneteller, but few actually had their fortunes told. Why? Because the fortuneteller wasn’t human, he was an old dog. The crowds gathered in anticipation of a good show. The dog was mixed breed, with traces of the Dobermann, Pomeranian, Wolfdog, Chihuahua and Pekingese. On a palette full of sunset colors, each color is beautiful on its own; but when mixed together, the effect resembles a wad of cotton saturated with dirty water from the gutter. The canine fortuneteller, clothed in patchwork, squatted on a table with the four treasures of the study—ink-stone, ink, brush and paper laid out before him, and flanked by cans of dog food piled into the shape of a pagoda. He barked away when people came to have their fortunes told. Amidst the hustle and bustle, the canine fortuneteller was the picture of serenity. Mistaking the canine fortuneteller for a stuffed animal, a kid flung a stone at the dog.
     “Little brat, who do you think you’re messing with? Are you looking down on my master?” An infuriated apprentice navigated through the crowds and tried to slap the boy.
     “Bow-wow . . .” the canine fortuneteller howled, in a very polite manner.
     “Watch your manners, be polite.” A rather tall apprentice who had his hands tucked away in his sleeves exclaimed, as he humbly turned around to ask his master, the canine fortuneteller, whether that was the accurate translation of his howl. The canine fortuneteller yelped in an authentic dog-like manner. The angry apprentice’s hand froze in midair. And the slap that was meant for the little boy came back in reversal to his own cheek with a loud, reverberating clap that was no joke at all. A group of kids who were playing at the fringes of the crowd started to wrestle with each other, with the winners climbing on to the backs of the losers for a round of horseback riding, slapping their asses, crying, “Fart, fat ass!”
     Magnolia approached the crowd. Her short and fat body obstructed the view of many people. The eyes of the canine fortuneteller gleamed, he opened his mouth and from his cavernous mouth came a strange howl, “Bow-wow wow wow . . .” The apprentices by his side sensed something different, and immediately searched the translation code book, attempting to decipher the meaning by decoding the frequencies and pauses in the howls and yelps. The canine fortuneteller had no intention of stopping as he barked away. The apprentices were at their wits’ end, and the crowd laughed their heads off.
     Magnolia was surprised to discover that she could fully understand the canine fortuneteller. The message was loud and clear as a broadcast from loudspeakers. “A greasy mass of air approaches, hey! There is a ghost in your tummy!” the canine fortuneteller said to her. It was a scary message, but in the midst of laughter and panic, no one comprehended it.
     “Bow-wow.” Magnolia responded in a howl. Alarmed, she ran back home.
     Magnolia hid at home, too embarrassed to leave the house. This was more horrible than accumulating a tub of fat on her body. Magnolia knew that the canine fortuneteller had detected her secret. She had no idea that her “how did you know?” would be transformed into a canine howl. It all happened when she was seven years old, when she realized a ghost had called her tummy home. It started when she saw a bowl of rice cake by the side of the road, and burnt ghost money scattered by, fluttering in the wind.
     “That’s ghost money,” a kid said, “if gold foil isn’t pasted on to the money, then it would be fake money, and the angry ghosts would haunt us.”
     Another kid said, “The food is offered to ghosts who died in a traffic accident.” And pointing to the rice cake, he said, “That’s ghost poop.”
     “That’s a rice cake, it is food for human beings, it’s not ghost poop, would you poop in a bowl?” Magnolia retorted.
     “Of course it is rice cake, but after the ghost eats it, it becomes ghost poop.” Magnolia’s pal responded with fire in his eyes.
     Fueled by anger and full of guts, Magnolia said, “I’ll prove that this is rice cake!” and scooped up a piece of rice cake with her finger, sending it into her mouth. The moment the rice cake touched her lips, her body hair stood up. It was as if an invisible hand had reached out from icy water and touched her all over.
     Since then, Magnolia sensed a hungry ghost residing in her belly. It asked for food all day, and even drinking plain water made her fat. Her belly started to swell, and in the night, she could hear the skin on her belly crackle, and her stomach growled in response, as if saying, “Go eat something,” “Go eat something.” Magnolia climbed off her bed, dragging herself to the kitchen. There was nothing edible there, only empty plates and bowls. She drank some water from them. Water wasn’t enough to satisfy her, and her belly was soon empty again. She mixed ashes from the stove with the water and slurped away,....

From Lien-ho wen-hsueh 《聯合文學》 (UNITAS— A Literary Monthly), No. 274, August, 2007, 36-40.


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