我一生中的書

有些書你一直打算讀，卻可能永遠(yuǎn)不會(huì)讀；有些書你本沒(méi)打算讀，卻因別人的一句話如獲至寶。亨利·米勒在文中寫道：“有時(shí)你崇拜的作家會(huì)將你引向一本被束之高閣許久的書?！裁?？他喜歡那本書？’”讀罷此文，我們也可以驚呼：“什么？大作家也有讀不進(jìn)去的書？”

I think it important to stress at the outset2） a psychological fact about the reading of books which is rather neglected in most works on the subject. It is this： many of the books one lives with in one’s mind are books one has never read. Sometimes these take on amazing importance. There are at least three categories of this order3）. The first comprises those books which one has every intention of reading some day but in all probability never will； the second comprises those books which one feels he ought to have read， and which， some at least， he undoubtedly will read before he dies； the third comprises the books one hears about， talks about， reads about， but which one is almost certain never to read because nothing， seemingly， can ever break down the wall of prejudice erected against them.

In the first category are those monumental works， classics mostly， which one is usually ashamed to admit he has never read： tomes4） one nibbles at5） occasionally， only to push them away， more than ever convinced that they are still unreadable. The list varies with the individual. For myself， to give a few outstanding names， they comprise the works of such celebrated authors as Homer， Aristotle， Francis Bacon， Hegel， Rousseau （excepting Emile）， Robert Browning， Santayana6）. In the second category I conclude Arabia Deserta， The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire， The Hundred and Twenty Days of Sodom， Casanova’s Memoirs， Napoleon’s Memoirs， Michelet’s History of the French Revolution. In the third Pepys’ Diary， Tristram Shandy， Wilhelm Meister， The Anatomy of Melancholy， The Red and the Black， Marius the Epicurean， The Education of Henry Adams.

Sometimes a chance reference to an author one has neglected to read or abandoned all thought of ever reading—a passage， say， in the work of an author one admires， or the words of a friend who is also a book lover—is sufficient to make one run for a book， read it with new eyes and claim it as one’s very own. In the main， however， the books one neglects， or deliberately spurns7）， seldom get read. Certain subjects， certain styles， or unfortunate associations connected with the very names of certain books， create a repugnance8） almost insuperable. Nothing on earth， for example， could induce me to tackle anew Spenser9）’s Faery Queen， which I began in college and fortunately dropped because I left that institution in a hurry. Never again will I look at a line of Edmund Burke10）， or Addison11）， or Chaucer12）， though the last—named I think altogether worthy of reading. Racine13） and Corneille14） are two others I doubt if I shall ever look at again， though Corneille intrigues me because of a brilliant essay I read not long ago on Phédre15） in The Clown’s Grail.

On the other hand there are books which lie at the very foundations of literature but which are so remote from one’s thinking and experience as to render them “untouchable.” Certain authors， supposed to be the bulwark16） of our particular Western culture， are more foreign in spirit to me than are the Chinese， the Arabs， or primitive peoples. Some of the most exciting literary works spring from cultures which have not contributed directly to our development. No fairy tales， for example， have exercised a more potent influence over me than those of the Japanese， which I became acquainted with through the work of Lafcadio Hearn17）， one of the exotic figures in American literature. No stories were more seductive to me as a child than those drawn from the Arabian Nights’ Entertainment. American Indian folklore leaves me cold， whereas the folklore of Africa is near and dear to me. And， as I have said repeatedly， whatever I read of Chinese literature （barring Confucius） seems as if written by my immediate ancestors.

I said that sometimes it is an esteemed author who puts one on the track of a buried book. “What！ He liked that book？” you say to yourself， and immediately the barriers fall away and the mind becomes not only open and receptive but positively aflame18）. Often it happens that it is not a friend of similar tastes who revives one’s interest in a dead book but a chance acquaintance. Sometimes this individual gives the impression of being a nitwit， and one wonders why he should retain the memory of a book which this person casually recommended， or perhaps did not recommend at all but merely mentioned in the course of conversation as being an “odd” book. In a vacant mood， at loose ends， as we say， suddenly the recollection of this conversation occurs， and we are ready to give the book a trial. Then comes a shock， the shock of discovery.

Wuthering Heights is for me an example of this sort. From having heard it praised so much and so often， I had concluded that it was impossible for an English novel—by a woman！—to be that good. Then one day a friend， whose taste I suspected to be shallow， let drop a few pregnant19） words about it. Though I promptly proceeded to forget his remarks， the poison sank into me. Without realizing it， I nurtured a secret resolve to have a look at this famous book one day. Finally， just a few years ago， Jean Varda put it in my hands. I read it in one gulp20）， astounded as is everyone， I suspect， by its amazing power and beauty. Yes， one of the very great novels in the English language. And I， through pride and prejudice， had almost missed reading it.

首先，我認(rèn)為有必要強(qiáng)調(diào)一個(gè)關(guān)于讀書的心理學(xué)現(xiàn)象，大多談及這個(gè)話題的著作都忽略了這個(gè)現(xiàn)象——人們心中惦念的往往是未曾讀過(guò)的書。有些時(shí)候，這些書表現(xiàn)得極其重要。人們惦念的書至少可以分為三類：第一類書你一直打算某天讀，卻很可能永遠(yuǎn)不會(huì)讀；第二類書你覺(jué)得原本該讀但未讀，這些書你在有生之年一定還會(huì)讀，至少會(huì)讀其中的一些；第三類書你聽說(shuō)過(guò)、談?wù)撨^(guò)、看到過(guò)相關(guān)信息，但幾乎肯定不會(huì)去讀，因?yàn)槟銓?duì)它們的偏見(jiàn)根深蒂固，似乎難以打破。

第一類書是不朽之作，大多是經(jīng)典名著。人們通常羞于承認(rèn)沒(méi)讀過(guò)這種書。對(duì)于這些大部頭，人們偶爾會(huì)“啃”一點(diǎn)，但最終還是擱置一旁，同時(shí)更加確信自己仍然讀不進(jìn)去。這種書因人而異。對(duì)我來(lái)說(shuō)，如果要舉幾位名家的話，荷馬、亞里士多德、弗蘭西斯·培根、黑格爾、盧梭（《愛(ài)彌兒》除外）、羅伯特·布朗寧、桑塔亞那的作品都屬于此類。第二類書，我列入了《古沙國(guó)游記》、《羅馬帝國(guó)衰亡史》、《索多瑪120天》、卡薩諾瓦的《我的一生》、拿破侖的《回憶錄》和米什萊的《法國(guó)革命史》。第三類書則包括佩皮斯的《日記》、《項(xiàng)狄傳》、《威廉·麥斯特》、《憂郁的解剖》、《紅與黑》、《伊壁鳩魯主義者馬里厄斯》和《亨利·亞當(dāng)斯的教育》。

有時(shí)，別人偶然提及某位你沒(méi)有讀過(guò)或是根本沒(méi)想過(guò)要讀他的作品的作者——比如你崇拜的作家有一段文字寫到了他，或是同為愛(ài)書人的朋友提到了他——這足以讓你跑去尋找這本書，用全新的眼光審視它，并想馬上據(jù)為己有。但大體而言，人們很少去讀從前忽略或刻意摒棄的書。某些主題、某些文風(fēng)、與某些書名相關(guān)的不幸聯(lián)想，都會(huì)引起讓人難以抑制的抵觸情緒。比如，沒(méi)有什么能誘使我再讀一遍斯賓塞的《仙后》。我上大學(xué)時(shí)開始讀這本書，因?yàn)榇掖译x校而幸運(yùn)地中斷了閱讀。至于埃德蒙·伯克、艾迪生或喬叟的作品，我是一行都不會(huì)再看了，盡管最后一位作家我覺(jué)得還值得一讀。另外兩位我覺(jué)得自己不會(huì)再讀的作家是拉辛和高乃依，雖然不久前我在《小丑的追求》一書中讀到的一篇評(píng)論《費(fèi)德爾》的精彩文章讓我對(duì)高乃依（編注：《費(fèi)德爾》是拉辛的作品，此處可能是作者的筆誤）產(chǎn)生了一些興趣。

另一方面，有些書雖是文學(xué)的奠基之作，但離人們的思想和經(jīng)歷太遠(yuǎn)，難免讓人覺(jué)得“可望而不可即”。某些作家雖是西方獨(dú)特文化的精神堡壘，卻比中國(guó)人、阿拉伯人甚至原始人更讓我感到陌生。有些最精彩的文學(xué)作品誕生于對(duì)我們的社會(huì)發(fā)展并無(wú)直接貢獻(xiàn)的文化。例如，沒(méi)有哪種神話比日本神話對(duì)我影響更大。通過(guò)小泉八云，這位美國(guó)文學(xué)中頗具異國(guó)色彩的作家，我漸漸熟悉了日本神話。在我還是孩子的時(shí)候，沒(méi)有哪個(gè)故事比《天方夜譚》更吸引我。我對(duì)美國(guó)印第安傳說(shuō)毫無(wú)興致，卻對(duì)非洲的民間傳說(shuō)倍感親近。還有，我不止一次地說(shuō)過(guò)，我讀的中國(guó)文學(xué)作品（除了孔子的著作）都像是我的祖先所寫。

我說(shuō)過(guò)，有時(shí)你崇拜的作家會(huì)將你引向一部被束之高閣許久的書?！笆裁矗克矚g那本書？”你這么自言自語(yǔ)，心中障礙立刻消失，不僅變得開放寬容，興致也高漲起來(lái)。讓人們對(duì)某本被遺忘的舊書燃起興致的，往往不是志趣相投的好友，而是偶然相識(shí)的某個(gè)人。有時(shí)那個(gè)人給你留下的印象是個(gè)笨蛋，你會(huì)奇怪自己為什么記得他隨意推薦的一本書；或許他根本沒(méi)推薦，不過(guò)是談話中提到這是本“怪”書。正如人們所說(shuō)，在閑散無(wú)聊、無(wú)事可做時(shí)，這次談話會(huì)突然從記憶里蹦出來(lái)，我們會(huì)想試著讀讀這本書。開卷之后不免驚訝，因發(fā)現(xiàn)奇書而驚訝。

《呼嘯山莊》對(duì)我來(lái)說(shuō)就是這樣一本書。我經(jīng)常聽見(jiàn)人們對(duì)此書高度贊譽(yù)，但我斷定英國(guó)小說(shuō)——還是出自女人之手！——不可能有那么棒。后來(lái)某一天，一個(gè)在我看來(lái)品位不高的朋友，談到此書時(shí)用了幾個(gè)意味深長(zhǎng)的詞。我很快就忘掉了他的評(píng)論，但毒液已滲入我心。我無(wú)意中已暗下決心，有朝一日要看看這本名著。終于，在幾年之前，讓·瓦爾達(dá)給了我這本書。我一口氣讀完了整本書，被它驚人的力量和美所震驚。我猜所有讀過(guò)的人都有同樣的體會(huì)。是的，它是英語(yǔ)文學(xué)中最偉大的小說(shuō)之一。而我，出于傲慢與偏見(jiàn)，險(xiǎn)些錯(cuò)失良書。

1.Henry Miller：亨利·米勒（1891～1980），美國(guó)小說(shuō)家，20世紀(jì)最重要的作家之一。其代表作是自傳性小說(shuō)三部曲《北回歸線》（Tropic of Cancer）、《黑色的春天》（Black Spring）和《南回歸線》（Tropic of Capricorn）。本文選自米勒1952年出版的文集《我一生中的書》（The Books in My Life）。

2.outset [?a?t?set] n. 開端，開始

3.order [???（r）d?（r）] n. 種類

4.tome [t??m] n. 大本書，大部頭的書

5.nibble at：一點(diǎn)一點(diǎn)地咬，啃

6.Santayana：即喬治·桑塔亞那（George Santayana， 1863～1952），美國(guó)自然主義哲學(xué)家、散文家、詩(shī)人、小說(shuō)家

7.spurn [sp??（r）n] vt. 唾棄，輕蔑地拒絕

8.repugnance [r??p?ɡn?ns] n. 抵觸；極為反感

9.Spenser：即埃德蒙·斯賓塞（Edmund Spenser， 1552～1599），英國(guó)文藝復(fù)興時(shí)期的偉大詩(shī)人，對(duì)后世的彌爾頓、雪萊和濟(jì)慈等詩(shī)人有深遠(yuǎn)影響。

10.Edmund Burke：埃德蒙·伯克（1729～1797），愛(ài)爾蘭思想家，常被視為英美保守主義思想的奠基者。

11.Addison：即約瑟夫·艾迪生（Joseph Addison， 1672～1719），英國(guó)散文家、詩(shī)人

12.Chaucer：即杰弗里·喬叟（Geoffrey Chaucer， 1343～1400），英國(guó)詩(shī)人，被譽(yù)為“英國(guó)詩(shī)歌之父”。

13.Racine：即讓·拉辛（Jean Racine， 1639～1699），法國(guó)劇作家、古典悲劇大師

14.Corneille：即皮埃爾·高乃依（Pierre Corneille， 1606～1684），法國(guó)古典主義悲劇代表作家，與莫里哀、拉辛并稱法國(guó)“古典戲劇三杰”。

15.Phédre：《費(fèi)德爾》，拉辛的著名悲劇，發(fā)表于1667年。

16.bulwark [?b?lw?（r）k] n. 堡壘；支柱

17.Lafcadio Hearn：即小泉八云（Koizumi Yakumo， 1850～1904），原名帕特里克·拉夫卡迪奧·赫恩（Patrick Lafcadio Hearn），日本作家兼學(xué)者。他寫過(guò)不少向西方介紹日本和日本文化的書，是現(xiàn)代怪談文學(xué)的鼻祖。

18.aflame [??fle?m] adj. 激動(dòng)的，興奮的

19.pregnant [?preɡn?nt] adj. （語(yǔ)言或行為）意味深長(zhǎng)的

20.gulp [ɡ?lp] n. 一大口；一大口吞下的量