Confession of a Book Lover
一个书迷的自白
By Bernard Pivor

    Bernard Pivor是法国一家电视台节目主持人，他主持一个名为Apostrophes的文学Talk Show节目已经15年了。他写的这篇文章虽短小如盆景，但文思精致、笔触细腻。字里行间映衬出一个鲜活的“书痴”形象。
    文章让读书爱书的读者产生共鸣，甚至短文如镜，能照见自己的影子；文章让平日无暇静读的朋友肃然深思，人生在世，转眼就是百年，未尝读书品文之真乐，岂非人生之大憾！
这是作者笔下的读书境界：
    Locked up with reading, I am completely alone. It’s just my book and me. What a delight! No one can read this text, on this page, in my place. Moreover, no one knows that I am reading. It’s purely selfish pleasure.
    读书进入佳境时，世上一切均远遁，剩下的仅是书和我。这里的locked up用得奇巧，令人想及两句有关读书的古诗： 

雪夜闭门读禁书。
红袖添香夜读书。

    在窗明几净的书斋里，有心平若镜的默诵，更有激情涌起的对话：
    But the most important part of this method lies elsewhere: making notes in a book is a way of introducing oneself into the text, putting one’s mark on it. It’s a thrilling intellectual business: as a reader, I use the same tool as the author.
    任时光飞逝，当年读者与作者的“对话”永久地留在书页上，因此书迷必定爱书如命。书上记录着自己的“秘史”和“隐史”。那么，作者是如何表达自己的爱书之情的呢？作者没有从正面下笔，而是选取了一个巧妙的视角，酣畅淋漓地宣泄了爱书之情！
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Twenty-five years later I find the living trace of my thoughts, my sensibilities of that time. That’s why I never lend out my books. I give away the ones of which I have two copies and the ones I’ve never read. But the ones I’ve marked up cannot circulate: they have become my journals, my confessions. To let someone read them would be opening myself to scrutiny(接受审查). I would be allowing others to break into me like a burglar breaks into a house.
这个视角实际上是一种虚拟，虚拟别人向我借书的情景。这个情景一旦设置，便大有文章可做。最让人叫绝的是其中的夸张用词。他甚至把借书人比作a burglar(一个盗贼)！I would be allowing others to break into me like a burglar breaks into a house. 极端的措辞成功地折射了爱书如命的心态。
Pivor爱书如命的性格是否与生俱来的呢？下面一段坦诚的回忆也许对读者最有教育意义：
Up until the age of 18 I read very little. I limited myself to what was necessary for a secondary-school diploma. I was always busy either playing soccer or falling in love. Then came the day when, as a young columnist, my main responsibility was to read. And I got to like it. My head spun! An unknown passion took hold of me. What happened? For me, it was the intrusion of a new state of being in love.
这里出现了两个love, 给人回味！第一个love前还用了一个busy，而第二个love之前则用了the intrusion of a new state。
这一番话又令我们想起了唐朝诗人皮日休的一句名言：惟书有艳，艳于西子。

Locked with my reading, I am completely alone. It’s just my book and me. What a delight! No one can read this text, on this page, in my place. Moreover, no one knows what I’m reading. It’s a purely selfish pleasure. In the morning, I’m happier, and fresher. I feel renewed. Like an athlete, I’m better at some moments than at others. This morning I’m the best at reading. Head of the class.
读书进入佳境时，世上一切均远遁，剩下的仅是书和我。这是何等的快乐啊！此时此地、此页此文，只有我一人独享。再者，无人知晓我在读些什么。这是一种完全属于我的享受。早晨，我感觉更加神清气爽、开心快活。整个人焕然一新。就像运动员一样，有时我的读书状态相对来说比较好。今天早晨，我就是众人之中阅读最出色的。
My attention is clear and strong.
我全神贯注、思路清晰。
I’ve always had a close relationship with the written page. It speaks to me, brings me to life, and I respond. Playing a game of give and take, of sensibility and confrontation, I make notes on the pages. My school teachers taught me this method of working, and I’ve never given it up. It’s my way of conversing with the author. All of a sudden I will stop the flow of printed words to intervene with my pencil. To pass judgment on or underline a sentence. During the time I hosted “Apostrophes,” I would spend several hours before each show, reviewing my marginal notes. Thus a few minutes sufficed to revive a reading done days earlier.
我总是和书上的文字有着一种密切的联系。它们和我对话，让我重获新生，而我也有回应。宛如做一场公平交换的游戏，一场既有喜怒哀乐，又有对抗冲突的游戏，我在书页上做着评注。我的老师教会了我这种阅读方法，而我也一直持之以恒。这是我和作者交流的一种方式。突然，我会在茫茫的铅字边停下，拿出铅笔，写下一点看法或划出一个句子。在我主持Apostrophes那段时间，我通常会在每次节目前花几个小时来温习一下自己的旁注。这样一点时间就足以勾起我对前不久做过的阅读的记忆。
But the most important part of this method lies elsewhere: making notes in a book is a way of introducing oneself into the text, putting one’s mark on it. It’s a thrilling intellectual business: as a reader, I use the same tools as the author.
但这种阅读方法的最重要之处却不在于此：做评注是将自己融入到书中，留下自己的印记。这是个令人兴奋的智慧之举：作为读者，我使用了和作者一样的方法。
Up until the age of 18 I read very little. I limited myself to what was necessary for a secondary-school diploma. I was always busy either playing soccer or falling in love. Then came the day when, as a young columnist, my main responsibility was to read. And I got to like it. My head spun! An unknown passion took hold of me. What happened? For me, it was the intrusion of a new state of being in love. I began to take possession of books and to annotate them. Thus I would tell them, in an only slightly contorted way, how much I liked them or didn’t. Today, 25 years later, I thumb through my books from those days and it’s magic, finding myself face to face with the young man I once was. Sometimes I understand him. Other times I find him hopeless. Certain remarks seem stupid to me now. Others make me happy. I was right about that, I sometimes say to myself.
18岁之前我读书很少。仅仅读一些为了得到中学文凭而必须读的书。通常，我不是忙着踢足球就是沉溺在花前月下。直到有一天，我成了一名年轻的专栏作家，主要任务就是阅读。渐渐地，我喜欢上了这活儿，脑子里萦绕的全部是书！一种莫名的热情控制了我。这是怎么了？就我而言，对书本的热爱，仿佛让我再陷爱河。我开始藏书，并给它们加上注释。这样，通过这种有些隐晦的做法，我告诉了这些书我是如何地喜爱它们抑或是不够喜爱。如今，25年过去了，当我重又翻开那些书本，我神奇地发现我仿佛与那个年轻的自己相遇。有时，我很理解这个“年轻人”；有时，我发现“他”很绝望。现在看来，有些评注愚蠢透顶，而又有些评论令我感到欣慰。“这样做实在是英明”，我有时对自己说。
Twenty-five years later I find the living trace of my thoughts, my sensibilities of that time. That’s why I never lend out my books. I give away the ones of which I have two copies and the ones I’ve never read. But the ones I’ve marked up cannot circulate: they have become my journals, my confessions. To let someone read them would be opening myself up to scrutiny. I would be allowing others to break into me like a burglar breaks into a house.
25年后，我发现了自己当时的思想和情感的鲜明轨迹。这也是我从不将书外借的原因，除非是我拥有副本或从没读过的那些书。但那些做过评注的书就不能流传出去了，它们已经成了我的日志，我的自白书。让别人读这些书就等于把我看了个透。让别人闯进我的内心世界，有如引贼入室一般。
When I hosted “Apostrophes,” I did nothing but read. Today books have serious competitors—theater, film, expositions—that appeal and seduce me. When I retired from the show about a year ago, I started going to films again. I enjoyed them all. They aroused my curiosity and gave me great pleasure. This is no longer always the case. My critical spirit has returned. But what record do I have of my emotions? I can’t make notes on a piece of film. And a movie will never tell me who I was in my youth.
在我主持“Apostrophes”的那段时间里，我除了阅读之外什么也没做过。如今，书本开始面对很多严峻的对手——剧院、影院、博览会——它们都在吸引我、诱惑我。一年前，当我从那档节目中退休后，我重又走进了电影院。我乐在其中。它们让我充满了好奇，也给了我无数的欢乐。然而也不再总是这样，我又开始有批判精神了。看电影时，我记录下了什么情感呢？我不能在电影上做注释，它从未让我重温自己那段年轻的时光。
If I were a book, I would hate the pleasure that other forms of art provide. The pleasure that distracts men, women, and children from the pleasure that I, a book, could give. But would I really have all that much to worry about? After all, going to the theater is a little complicated. Seeing a film involves a lot of running around. And watching TV requires that one stay home, and keep zapping. But I, a book, can go anywhere—in my reader’s pocket, when he gets on a bus, takes a train, waits in line for a haircut. In fact, my only real competition is the Walkman, which can also be taken anywhere and provides a one-on-one relationship.
 如果我是一本书，我一定会痛恨其他艺术形式所带来的快乐。这些快乐让男女老少都从我身边走开，而不能享受我所能给予的快乐。但是我真的有必要这样担心吗？毕竟，去剧院并不方便。看一场电影少不了一阵东奔西跑。看电视则必须呆在家中，不断地调台来跳过广告。而我，一本书，可以随时和读者在一起——呆在他的口袋里，比如他在公交车上，乘火车或等着理发时。其实，我唯一真正的对手是随身听，它也能随身携带，且提供一对一式的服务。
Dangerous, this Walkman? Yes and no. Everything comes in cycles. One day people will have had enough noise. They’ll be brave. And, I’m certain, they’ll take a good ballpoint pen and start making notes in books;
随身听会带来威胁吗？可以说是也可以说不是。风水轮流转，总有一天人们会觉得那样很吵闹，会勇敢地抛开随身听。而我可以肯定，他们又将拿起笔在书上做做评注。