"The Way to Rainy Mountain" and "老屋窗口"

"The Way to Rainy Mountain" and "老屋窗口"

To narrate is to tell a story, to tell what had happened in one's life.

We live in time and space. Our experiences and memories often involve the places in which we have lived and have our roots.

Describing them allows others to glimpse into their lives and 心境.

Among many others, writers N. Scott Momaday (a Native American) and 余秋雨 have done well in that regard.

"The Way to Rainy Mountain" is a story written by N. Scott Momaday. "老屋窗口" by 余秋雨 is one of the writings in his published book entitled, "文化苦旅".

Both stepped away from their everyday life and traveled back to another time and old places, exploring their ancestral roots and their childhood affairs through memories.

Momaday returned to his grandmother’s house and Rainy Mountain, recalled the stories his grandmother used to tell him. He said, "Although my grandmother lived out her long life in the shadow of Rainy Mountain, the immense landscape of the continental interior lay like memory in her blood."

He vividly remembered, "…….. I see my grandmother in the several postures that were peculiar to her: standing at the wood stove on a winter morning and turning meat in a great iron skillet; sitting at the south window, bent above her beadwork, and afterwards, when her vision failed, looking down for a long time into the fold of her hands; going out upon a cane, very slowly as she did when the weight of age came upon her; praying. I remember her most often at prayer. She made long, rambling prayers out of suffering and hope, having seen many things. I was never sure that I had the right to hear, so exclusive were they of all mere custom and company.……….  ."

Then he noticed, "Now there is a funeral silence in the rooms, the endless wake of some final word. The walls have closed in upon my grandmother's house."

余秋雨 was told by his mother to return to their 家鄉的老屋 and stay for a few days.

"前年冬天，母親告訴我，家鄉的老屋無論如何必須賣掉了。全家兄弟姐妹中，我是最反對賣屋的一個，為著一種說不清的理由。而母親的理由卻說得無可辯駁：'幾十年沒人住，再不賣就要坍了。你對老屋有情分，索性這次就去住幾天吧，給它告個別。' "

The following morning, after a good night’s sleep, he began to reminisce his 童年.

"一個陡起的記憶猛地闖入腦海。也是躺在被窩裏，兩眼直直地看著銀亮的雪岭。母親催我起床上學，我推說冷，多賴一會兒。母親無奈，陪著我看窗外。' 諾，你看！' 她突然用手指了一下。

順著母親的手看去，雪岭頂上，晃動著一個紅點。一天一地都是一片潔白，這個紅點便顯得分外耀眼。這是河英，我的同班同學，她住在山那頭，翻山上學來了。那年我才6歲，她比我大10歲，同上著小學二年級。她頭上扎著一方長長的紅頭巾，那是學校的老師給她的。這麼一個女孩子一大清早就要翻過雪山來上學，家長和老師都不放心，後來有一位女教師出了主意，叫她扎上這方紅頭巾。女教師說：'只要你翻過山頂，我就可以憑著紅頭巾找到你，盯著你看，你摔跤了我就上來幫你。' 河英的母親說：'這主意好，上山時歸我看。'......................

我母親就每天期待著這個紅點，作為催我起床的理由。這紅點，已成了我們學校上課的預備鈴聲。只要河英一爬上山頂，山這邊有孩子的家庭就忙碌開了。"
 
Yet, he said, "今天，我躺在被窩裏，透過玻璃窗死死盯著遠處的雪岭，總想在那裏找到什麼。好久好久，什麼也沒有，沒有紅點，也沒有褐點和灰點。"

At the ending of their writings, we seem to have a glimpse of their 心境:

"The next morning I awoke at dawn and went out on the dirt road to Rainy Mountain. It was already hot, and the grasshoppers began to fill the air. Still, it was early in the morning, and the birds sang out of the shadows. The long yellow grass on the mountain shone in the bright light, and a scissortail hied above the land. There, where it ought to be, at the end of a long and legendary way, was my grandmother's grave. Here and there on the dark stones were ancestral names. Looking back once, I saw the mountain and came away. "          --Momaday--

"第二天一早，我依然躺在被窩裏凝視著雪岭。那個消失的紅點，突然變得那麼遙遠，那麼抽象，卻又那麼震撼人心。難道，這紅點竟是倏忽而逝的哈雷彗星？"        --余秋雨--


Yeh Tze