Guess a Chinese Word.
It has 24 strokes in total, includes a “stone” radical, and underneath that stone there are two wiggly worms. In Cantonese (JyutPing), it’s read 'dou3'; in Mandarin (Pinyin), it’s read 'dù'. If you’re a bookworm like me, you’ve probably seen this curious little creature squiggling through the yellowed pages of well-loved (and well-worn) books.
That word is 「蠹」(JyutPing: dou3)—which literally means “bookworm.”
And yet, in spite of its humble meaning, this word sent an entire high school class into a frenzy when it wriggled onto their Chinese mock exam paper as Question #3. The question cited a line of poetry by Ya Xuan (瘂弦):
A single, beautiful silverfish
swims out from the Shuijing Zhu.
一條美麗的銀蠹魚,
從《水經註》裏游出來
Then followed with these multiple-choice options:
Regarding this poem by Ya Xuan, the most appropriate interpretation is:
(A) The poet cleverly employs personification, giving the scene a lively, dynamic feel.
(B) The appearance of a beautiful “silver fish” (“蠹魚”) hints at how the ancient text can inspire readers deeply.
(C) The choice of “一條” (one fish) accentuates the intense focus required to read through old works.
(D) The string of images throughout the poem implies the title is 《曬書》 (“Sun-Drying Books”).
關於瘂弦這首小詩,最適當的解讀是:
(A) 詩人巧妙運用了擬人手法,使畫面充滿活潑的動態感;
(B) 美麗的蠹魚「游出來」,暗示典籍給予讀者深刻啟發;
(C) 刻意選擇以「一條」彰顯翻閱典籍時全神貫注的模樣;
(D) 全詩所安排的一連串意象,可推測詩名為《曬書》。
The officially “correct” answer?
(D)
But as an IB (International Baccalaureate) Language & Literature teacher—across both Chinese and English—I’d argue the real answer isn’t even on the list. I’d pick: All of the above. Why? Because if this very same poem were used as an IB “unseen text,” you’d get a question like this:
Read the following poem, then answer the questions: (Chinese Version)
Airing Out Books In The Sun
A single, beautiful silverfish
swims out from the Shuijing Zhu.
---- Ya Xuan
《曬書》
一條美麗的銀蠹魚,
從《水經註》裏游出來。
---- 瘂弦
Notes:
Silverfish (銀蠹魚): A tiny insect often found in damp pages of old books, like a secret wanderer or a reclusive guest in the realm of bookish aromas.
Shuijing Zhu (《水經註》): A classic Chinese geographical work written by Northern Wei scholar Li Daoyuan, recording rivers, landscapes, and cultural impressions along the banks—widely regarded as a precious piece of ancient literature.
Questions:
How do “silverfish” (銀蠹魚) and “Shuijing Zhu”(《水經註》) function as literary imagery? What purpose do they serve in the poem?
Which rhetorical devices (such as personification or metaphor) are used in this line, and how do they enhance the poem’s effect?
Considering both the text and the poem’s title, discuss possible themes and the insight readers might gain.
With IB-style questions, the focus is on how personification, imagery, or the poet’s keen observation highlights the underlying theme—often tied to the poem’s title. Indeed, any of those multiple-choice “interpretations” could be expanded into an essay.
For example:
An IB A–style sample essay (Chinese Version)
One-Line Poem: Profound, Vibrant, Alive (深沈而靈動的十六字)
Ya Xuan’s one-line poem-- “A single, beautiful silverfish / swims out from the Shuijing Zhu.”-- may only contain fourteen characters in the original Chinese version, but it brims with both meanings and vitality. Through personification and precise construction, the poet casts a fluid ray of light from the silverfish across the page, inviting readers to discover new sparks of insight and literary reflection in a single, subtle moment.
Personification for a Lively Vignette
The phrase “silverfish” (銀蠹魚)is brought to life by the verb “swims out” (游出來), transforming a tiny insect into a curious, almost playful sprite. The imagery of swimming—evoking water—further enhances the sense of motion and wonder.
The Silverfish Emerges, Symbolizing the Text’s Deeper Revelations
The Shuijing Zhu (《水經註》) is a heavyweight geographical classic teeming with historical and cultural richness. By depicting the silverfish as an explorer within its ancient pages, the poet hints that genuine reading is a profound dialogue with the past, rather than a mere turning of pages.
Focus Embodied by “A single” (一條)
The poet’s choice to specify ‘a single’ one (一條) underscores the intense concentration found in reading. In a vast “sea” of texts, sometimes all you see is that single, subtle detail, guiding you forward into knowledge.
Interwoven Imagery, Linking to the Title Airing Out Books In The Sun (《曬書》)
From “silverfish” (銀蠹魚) to “swims out” (游出來) to a heavyweight geographical classic, a thematic thread emerges: preserving tradition while breathing new life into it—just like the old practice of airing out books in the sun (曬書). The silverfish doesn’t merely nibble on the edges of pages and graze upon the starch-based adhesives; here, it seems to spark new meaning.
In sum, this single poetic line acts like a shaft of light shining through worn pages, revealing the power of time-honoured words. Personification, symbolism, and the implied title all converge to capture how reading, even in the most everyday moments, can become a profound adventure. As with books themselves, depth lies not in their physical thickness but in the resonances sparked within each reader.
Now, as a student, would you rather fill out a dozen multiple-choice answers, or craft an essay that showcases your unique interpretation? Which approach do you feel truly measures your abilities?
Personally, as a teacher, tutor, and coach—and as someone who was never any good at rote memorisation back in my student days—I’d much rather have ownership over my own thinking. Memorising trivia about The Shuijing Zhu (《水經註》) as an ancient geography text might have stifled my curiosity. Sure, knowing the awkward 24-stroke Chinese word for “bookworm” could be cool, and participating in an event preserving the “sun-drying” tradition might be fun. But I’d still be apprehensive about exam questions hinged on niche knowledge of the classics—because lacking that specialised information doesn’t necessarily reflect my actual language skills. Nor does a multiple-choice question boost my enthusiasm for reading or my confidence in approaching new texts. After all, how can I guess how an examiner interprets a literary work?
Truth is, no one loves every classic just because it’s labeled “classic.” And yes, learning to appreciate great paintings, poetry, or even pop songs can be real work. The fact is, there are still entire genres I’m reluctant to explore—detective fiction, for instance. And that’s okay. I don’t have to be a know-it-all to enjoy literature and the arts. Ultimately, literature and art should enrich our daily grind and offer catharsis, not enslave us to someone else’s imposed interpretation.
The joy of teaching literacy and literature lies less in rote facts, and more in realising how a single poetic image—like a silverfish wriggling its way out of an ancient tome—can open up entire worlds of imagination. That sense of discovery is what I hope my students, and I myself, will continue to experience time and again.