我十八歲來華學中文。那時的臺灣與現在迥然不同。家父按月匯一百元美金到一家銀行,由他們轉到臺灣的第一銀行;美金受管制,不能碰,但照當時匯率,我每月得四千元新臺幣,夠用。我與幾個美國朋友在新生南路一段157巷租了一間三十坪的公寓,月租三千元,我們平分。在龍泉街吃自助餐,我胃口大,常常一餐要花十塊錢。若有餘錢,我都拿去買書。沒有餘錢,我也買書。
學國語八個月開始讀文言,一觸即癮。十九歲就讀師大國文系,讀論語、韓非子,迷上了先秦,也迷上了中華書局的古籍因為校對謹慎印刷好字型大而且最好的是沒有標點因為我一發現古書原無標點就發現標點是多餘的沒有標點就需要用心看是另一番感覺讀沒有標點的書最好看
大一買了一套中華書局的史記,八冊,大一暑假就花了三四週看完;最讓我遺憾的是,只有八冊。意猶未盡。
大二開學,我二十歲,上說文解字。我學中文,本來就是因為愛上了國字,上說文,如魚得水。
但生活出了問題:銀行說家父的錢沒送到,沒錢入帳。那時別想打越洋電話,我們班上三十七個同學,只有五、六個家裏有電話。打電報很貴,只好寫信告急,希望航空快點。少吃一點,盼望錢早點進戶頭。三兩天跑到中山北路的銀行去問(沒有電話,只好自己跑)。戶頭快見底了,還沒消息,只好跟朋友借五十塊、一百塊。能省的就是少吃一點,所以一天只吃一碗陽春麵。
偏偏在國際學舍的體育館開了書展,可能是臺灣第一個書展。肚子餓,到書展逛逛,轉移肚子的注意力。偏偏中華書局參展。有一套資治通鑑,二十冊,還打折!只有那一套,但我真的沒錢。只好常去看看有福氣的人有沒有買回家。所幸,還擺在那裏。真漂亮。書展只剩幾天就要結束,還沒人買,但我也沒錢。
大概是吃了兩個多星期快三個星期的陽春麵獨餐,一天晚上餓醒,房子旋轉,想吐。但真的太餓,我沒力氣站起來,所以只好慢慢爬進廁所,坐地上抱著馬桶吐,可是肚子空空如也,吐好久,吐不出東西來,喉嚨痛、嘴裏怪味道而已,只好慢慢爬回房間躺下,等屋子不轉。睡了。
早上,室友們看我沒動靜,很體貼敲門問,你昨晚把我們吵醒了,你死了嗎?看我躺著不動但沒死,幫我熬一碗青菜湯。我還站不起來,只好早上翹課。中午比較有體力,上學去了。同學看我早上沒上課,太意外,很體貼說,看你沒上課,以為你死了。差不多。一位好心的同學特地幫我買了一條明星的黑麵包;當年臺灣的麵包都不能吃,只有軟軟的白麵包,唯獨武昌街的明星,老闆是俄國人,懂得做麵包。我坐在英文系外的魚池邊吃了麵包,晚上同學請我吃晚餐,感覺體力好很多。
第二天,郵差送來掛號信,我媽在一封信裏藏了六張十元美鈔;這嚴重犯法,但我不管,拿到錢往衡陽路衝。衡陽路的銀樓有後室,可以偷偷換美金。我立即換了兩千多元,錢拿到手,衝出去上公車直殺信義路國際學舍體育館,緊張萬分去看:資治通鑑還擺在那兒,還沒賣掉!太好!在書展結束之前兩個小時把銀樓給我的鈔票幾乎全部塞給書局的職員,心滿意足抱著我的資治通鑑二十冊回家。書放好,我才想到,我很餓!到龍泉街自助餐花了十元飽吃一頓。
過了幾天,父親送來的錢終于入帳了。又過一段時間才知道,美國幾十年來唯一倒店的銀行就是負責匯款給我的那一家,但是美國政府很快處理,所以後來家父的錢入帳沒有問題。
當然迫不及待讀通鑑,讀到漢朝,課業重,沒時間看。十幾年前又從頭讀,但到了魏晉南北朝,實在太亂,搞不清楚,暫時放一邊。現在大陸史學興盛,這幾年讀「華歷血時代」、「五胡錄」等書終于開始理出頭緒。現在南北朝有了概念,我又在讀通鑑。為了方便攜帶,阿超幫我封了一個書套,不怕把書磨壞。
這套書對我多方面意義重大。買資治通鑑的那天是民國六十二年十月三十日,剛好四十年。以此紀念。
I came to Free China when I was 18 to study
Chinese. Taiwan
was vastly different then. Every month my father sent US$100 to a bank to
transfer to my NT account here. Green was strictly controlled, but at the
exchange rate then, every month I got NT$4,000, enough to live on. With some
American friends, I rented a 3 bedroom apartment on Canal Street (Hsin Sheng South Road)
for NT$3,000; we split the rent. I have always had a hearty appetite, so in the
cafeterias on Lungchuan Street,
I might pay as much as NT$10 a meal. When I had money left over, I bought
books. When I didn’t have money left over, I bought books.
When I had studied Mandarin for eight
months, I started learning Classical, and was immediately addicted to its
beauty and economy. When I was 19, I began studying in the Chinese Lit
department at NTNU. I had courses in the Analects and Han Fei Tz, and fell in
love with the pre-Chin period. I also fell in love with books published by
Chung Hwa publishers, because they were carefully printed with large clear
characters and no punctuation Chinese books traditionally were not punctuated
once you get used to it reading unpunctuated books is a lot more fun than
reading texts all cluttered up with a bunch of periods and commas which are
once you think of it really quite unnecessary just think more carefully as you
read
In my freshman year, I bought an eight
volume set of Records of the Historian,
published by Chung Hwa. During the summer vacation, I finished it in three or
four weeks. My only regret was that there were only eight volumes.
When I went back to school, as a sophomore,
at the age 20, I had Etymology. I took up the study of Chinese because Chinese
characters fascinate me, so Etymology was just what I wanted to study.
But problems came up in my life. The bank
said that no money had come from my father. In those days, international phone
calls practically belonged to the realm of fantasy, and anyway, of the 37
people in my class, only five or six had phones at home. Sending a telegram was
expensive, so I had to content myself with writing an airmail letter for help,
and hoping the post office delivery
was quick. I cut down on food, and looked forward to money coming into the account,
the sooner the better. Every couple of days I would trot up to the bank, on Chungshan N Rd; there
weren’t many phones in those days, so you had to go yourself. I was almost out
of money, and there was no news, so I had to start borrowing from friends,
fifty NT here, a hundred NT there. The only thing I had left to scrimp on was
food, so I ate only one bowl of plain noodles a day.
As luck would have it, there was a Book
Fair, one of Taiwan’s
first, at the International House gym. I was hungry, and looking at the books
could keep my mind off food. As luck would have it, Chung Hwa had a stall, and
they had a set of Tzu-chih T’ung-chien, twenty volumes, on sale! Just the one
set, but I really didn’t have money. All I could do was stop by every day or so
to see if some lucky person had taken it home. Fortunately, it was still there.
What a beautiful book! There were only a few days left before the Fair ended,
and nobody had bought it, but I still had no money.
(Compiled during the Sung dynasty [in the
eleventh century], the Tzu-chih T’ung-chien [Comprehensive Mirror to Promote
Governing, Zizhi Tongjian] runs to over three million characters, and covers
over a thousand years of Chinese history, from 403BC to 959AD.)
After two, almost three weeks on a diet of
one bowl of noodles a day, one night I was so hungry I woke up. The room was
spinning, and I wanted to throw up, but I was so hungry I couldn’t stand up. I
slowly crawled into the bathroom. I sat by the toilet to heave, but my stomach
was so empty that nothing would come up. I barfed for a long time, but nothing
came up. All I got was a sore throat and an awful taste in my mouth, so I
slowly crawled back to my room and lay down on the tatami, waiting for the room
to stop spinning. I finally fell asleep.
In the morning, my apartment mates noticed
that I wasn’t up and around, so they very thoughtfully knocked on my door and
said, “You woke us up last night with your retching, are you dead?” I was out
flat but still alive, so they made me some vegetable broth. But I was still too
weak to stand, so I cut class that morning. By noon I had regained some
strength, so I went to class. My friends said that they were surprised I hadn’t
come to class that morning, and very thoughtfully said, “When you didn’t come
to class, we thought you must be dead.” Pretty close. One very considerate
friend brought me a loaf of black bread from the Astoria. Bread in Taiwan in those days was atrocious:
fluffy, white stuff that was inedible. A Russian ran the Astoria on Wuchang Street,
so he knew how to make bread. I sat by the English Department’s fish pond and
ate my bread. A friend bought me dinner, and I felt much stronger.
The next day, the mailman delivered a
registered letter. My mother had stapled six ten dollar US bills inside
a letter. This was highly illegal, but I didn’t care, I took the money and ran
to Hengyang Street.
A jewelry store on Hengyang Street
had a backroom in which you could illicitly exchange green. I got two thousand
and some. Money in hand, I raced to the bus stop and headed directly for the
International House gym. In a tizzy, I raced to the Chung Hwa stand, and the T’ung-chien
was still there! It hadn’t been sold! Wonderful! Two hours before the Book Fair
ended, I stuffed most of the money the jewelry store gave me into the hands of
a Chung Hwa clerk, and triumphantly carried my twenty volume set of T’ung-chien
home. Once I got home and put the books on the shelf, I realized, hey, I’m
hungry! I went to Lungchuan Street
and spent ten NT on a big meal in a cafeteria.
A couple days later, money from my father
entered my account. I soon learned that for decades, the one and only US bank to go
belly up was the one transferring my father’s money to me. The US government
cleaned up the mess quickly, and there were no more problems after that.
I started reading the T’ung-chien, and got
to the Han dynasty, when schoolwork intervened and I had to stop. I started
again from the beginning about 16 years ago, but the Wei Chin Southern and
Northern dynasties were so chaotic that I was stopped because I couldn’t figure
out what was going on. In recent years, scholars in mainland China are doing
superb work on history, and with recent publications, I have finally gotten a
handle on the Southern and Northern dynasties, so I am reading T’ung-chien again,
and this time I will finish. I carry the volumes around, so Sabiy has made a
case to protect the books. They are already pretty old, after all.
The book is important to me in many respects. The day I bought T’ung-chien
was October 30, 1973, forty years ago. This is a good day to commemorate that.