書架上的人生

One recent rainy morning， I planted my hands on my hips and stared down the books. “Okay，” I said. “Some of you have to go！”

Don’t get me wrong. I love books. My husband loves books. Our kids are growing up to love books.

After 20 years of living and reading together， we have gathered what some might call a sizable library. One problem： We don’t actually have a library to put the books in.

Looking at our glass coffee table that day， I strained to actually see the table. It was covered in mounds of books， resembling a crumbling 1）Incan temple. It was time to take action.

I started in the office， where the literary remains of five university degrees collected dust. Why did we still have textbooks from 25 years ago？ I ruthlessly worked my way through the shelves. This was easier than I had anticipated. Feeling good now， I moved on to the family room.

Where to start？ I reached in and grabbed a slim reference book on refinishing hardwood floors. And was transported back to our first house.

We had bought it as newlyweds. Every room， plus the stairs， had blue 2）shag carpeting. We spent each night after work for weeks tearing up carpet to reveal the hardwood floors beneath， then bundling and carting it to the curb.

I took a deep breath and willed myself to be strong. Our 3）fixer-upper days are behind us now. I slipped the book into the donation box.

Next came Second-Hand Dog， purchased when we adopted our first shelter 4）mutt 19 years ago. I couldn’t resist flipping through the pages， remembering the lessons learned and applied with all the dogs that followed. The latest， a collie-shepherd cross， nuzzled my hand as I stood there. I stroked his head and put the book back on the shelf.

On to the books about expecting a baby， caring for your newborn， using effective discipline. Into the charity bin. Then， with a shrug， I 5）retrieved and re-shelved the discipline one.

Ghost Towns of Ontario？ Kept that. We haven’t seen them all yet. Nor have we hiked the entire 6）Bruce Trail， so the binder full of maps had to stay. The coffee table books on the Nahanni and other great Canadian parks？ Too gorgeous to let go.

Running my hands over the spines of the novels， I tilted my head to read the names. All of them so wonderful. Fewer and fewer books were going into the bins.

Then I turned to another row of books. Gardening. Ambitious youth！ I spent winters dreaming of ever-blooming perennial landscapes. Now I plant the 7）tried-and-true 8）geraniums， 9）petunias and 10）dusty miller that I remember from my mother’s farmhouse flower beds. Some other hopeful gardener might benefit from these， I decided.

And so it went. Working through the volumes， trying to choose what I could stand to part with， I realized the crammed shelves held much more than a collection of books. They told a story. Our story.

Flipping through these 11）cumulative pages， a historian could assemble a pretty accurate picture of our life over the past 20 years. And not just the milestones， but the workaday realities of family life. The stained pages of our recipe books reflect our favourite meals. That dog-eared guide to childhood illnesses got us through many sleepless nights.

Our books show what we’ve cared about， where we’ve visited （or perhaps wished to visit） and the challenges we’ve faced. How could I give that away？

At the end of the day， I drove to the donation centre with a few boxes. Our shelves are still 12）chock-a-block.

They’re not expanding as quickly as they used to， since we’ve joined the digital crowd. But I haven’t kicked the real book habit completely and I don’t plan on it. Nothing can replace the feeling of a new book in my hands， or the pleasure of taking an old friend off the shelf to flip through its pages.

Still， I think about cleaning out the electronic bookshelves of the future. How easy it will be. Scanning through lists of text. Delete， delete， in the blink of an eye.

This might sound efficient to some， but it makes me feel sad.

最近一個雨天的早晨，我把雙手搭在臀部，低頭凝視著那些舊書?！昂冒?，”我說道，“你們當中的一部分得走了！”

別誤會我。我愛書。我的丈夫愛書。我們的孩子一路成長過來也愛書。

經(jīng)歷了二十年共處、共讀的歲月后，我們匯集成了可謂“圖書館規(guī)?！钡牟貢?。但有一個問題：我們其實并沒有一館之地來存放這一館之書。

那天，看著我們的玻璃小茶幾，幾乎整個給淹沒無形了。茶幾上堆滿了一個個書垛子，一副印加神殿破落遺跡的樣子。是時候采取行動了。

我從書房著手，那里造就五個大學學位的文獻“遺產(chǎn)”染滿灰塵。為何我們還存著25年前的教科書呢？我毫不留情地在各個書架上我行我素。這比我預期的要容易些。此刻，我感覺良好，于是轉(zhuǎn)而來到家庭活動室。

從哪里入手呢？我伸手抓起一本纖薄的關(guān)于整修實木地板的參考書。頓時，心思被帶回到我們的第一所房子里。

那是我們的婚房。每個房間，包括樓梯，都鋪著藍色的粗毛地毯。好多個星期，下班后的每個晚上，我們都花時間在那兒扒走地毯，讓下面的實木地板重見光明，然后把地毯打包，裝上手推車，推到路邊。

我深深地呼吸了一口氣，提醒自己不能心軟。我們那些舊房重修的日子如今已經(jīng)離我們遠去了。我將這本書抽出來投到捐贈箱里。

接著是《二手狗》一書——那是19年前，當我們從收容所領養(yǎng)第一條混種狗時購買的。我忍不住翻動書頁，回憶從中汲取并應用到其后我養(yǎng)的所有狗狗身上的經(jīng)驗教訓。當我站在那兒的時候，最近領養(yǎng)的一條混種柯利牧羊犬用鼻子嗅了嗅我的手。我撫摸著它的頭，將書放回了書架。

接著是那些關(guān)于孕期、新生兒護理以及運用有效教導方法的書，我放進了慈善捐贈箱。之后，我聳聳肩，把那本關(guān)于教導方法的書撿了回來，重新放回到書架上。

《安大略省的“鬼鎮(zhèn)”》？留著吧。我們還沒有全部見識過呢。我們也還沒徒步走完布魯斯小徑，所以那個裝滿了地圖的活頁簿也得留著。擱在茶幾上關(guān)于納漢尼國家公園和其他加拿大大型公園的書？太漂亮了，舍不得放手。

我的手撫過一本本小說的書脊，斜著腦袋讀出書名。全部都那么的好看。越來越少的書被放進箱子里了。

接著，我轉(zhuǎn)到另一排圖書。園藝。雄心勃勃的青春?。∥以谠S多個冬天都夢想著終年四季花開的美景。歷經(jīng)嘗試，如今，我成功種下了天竺葵、矮牽?；ê豌y葉菊，跟記憶中母親那農(nóng)舍花床上的一樣美。我堅信，其他某些滿懷希望的園丁或許能從中受益。

所以，這本書得走了。整理著這些書冊，挑選出我能夠割舍分別的書，我明白到，這一個又一個滿滿的書架子承載著的遠不止是書籍。它們講述著一個故事。我們的故事。

翻閱這累累書頁，一個歷史學家就可以拼湊出一幅相當精確的、關(guān)于我們二十多年來生活的圖畫。不止是那些里程碑式的事件，而是家庭生活的平凡現(xiàn)實。食譜書上污跡斑斑的書頁反映了我們最愛的菜式。卷了角的兒童疾病指南讓我們度過了許多個無眠的夜晚。

我們的書展示了我們所在乎的一切，展示了我們曾經(jīng)造訪過（或者希望造訪）的地方，以及我們面臨過的挑戰(zhàn)。我怎么能將其送走呢？

最后，我?guī)е鴰讉€箱子驅(qū)車去了捐贈中心。我們的書架依然被塞得滿滿當當?shù)摹?/p>

這些圖書的增長速度已經(jīng)比不上以往了，因為我們都加入了數(shù)字行列。但我還沒有完全將閱讀實體書的習慣丟棄，我也沒打算這么做。手中捧著一本新書的感受，或者從書架上抽出一位“老朋友”翻閱其紙頁的喜悅，這些都是無可取代的。

盡管如此，我想到了以后清理電子書架的感受。那將變得多么容易啊。掃描文本的清單。刪除，刪除，眨眼之間。

這對于某些人而言聽起來很高效，但卻讓我滿懷傷感。