The Transformative Joy of Rereading 重讀之新趣

胡安·維達(dá)爾文 張英譯

Returning to a book youve read multiple times can feel like drinks with an old friend. Theres a welcome familiarity—but also sometimes a slight suspicion that time has changed you both， and thus the relationship. But books dont change， people do. And thats what makes the act of rereading so rich and transformative.

If youve been an avid reader for any amount of time， chances are youve revisited a book you love. A novel with interesting characters， that story collection that reminds you of home， a volume of poems you were given as a child. Whether its nostalgia or simple pleasure we seek varies from person to person. But one thing is for certain： Every book is a reason in and of itself.

The number of books I receive every month can be glorious and daunting. It might be five， but it could be 20. And they all look damn beautiful， what with their unique designs， gripping blurbs， and freshly dried ink. Stories chock-full of murder， secrets， and political intrigue， novellas that seem to carry the weight of the world. Sure， I want to read them all， but thats impossible. I have children and a wife and dinner and Ive been putting off getting an oil change for far too long. But also because， see， in addition to selected new releases， I really want to have that drink with the old friend.

There are three books I reread annually. These are the shoo-ins， books that I specifically set time aside for during the year. The first， which I breeze through every spring， is Ernest Hemingways A Moveable Feast. Published posthumously in 1964， its his classic memoir of 1920s Paris. The language is almost intoxicating， an aging writer recalling an ambitious yet simpler time.

Another is Annie Dillard1s Holy the Firm， her poetic 1975 ramble about everything and nothing; a moth consumed in a flame， a baptism， a little girl burned in an airplane accident. It begins： “Every day is a god， each day is a god， and holiness holds forth in time. I worship each god， I praise each day splintered down and wrapped in time like a husk， a husk of many colors spreading， at dawn fast over the mountains split.” I wouldnt say theres a “plot，” per se， but perhaps its the disfigurement of 7-year-old Julie Norwich in that accident. Anyway， if you need a neatly fleshed out plot to enjoy a book theres a pretty good chance youre a sociopath.

The third book is Julio Cortázar2s Save Twilight： Selected Poems， because poetry. And because Cortázar.

While I tend to buy a lot of books， these three were given to me as gifts， which might subconsciously add to the meaning I attach to them. But I imagine that， while money is indeed wonderful and necessary， rereading an authors work is the highest currency a reader can pay them. Especially if the author is no longer around to spend money.

A voracious reader is a non-stop consumer of worlds. But ones interpretation of these worlds morphs and shifts depending on the personal experiences one brings into the reading. We identify with a characters pain because weve felt pain， and so on. The beauty of rereading lies in the idea that our engagement with the work is based on our current mental， emotional， and even spiritual register. Its true， the older I get， the more I feel time has wings. But with reading， its all about the present. Its about the now and what one contributes to the now， because reading is a give and take between author and reader. Each has to pull their own weight. There are books I hated in my early 20s that I now see as powerful and revelatory.

The best books are the ones that open further as time passes. But remember， its not because they changed. Every letter and punctuation mark is exactly where it always has been， and where it will remain forever. Its you who are different; its you whove been affected by the depth of your experience. And its you that have to grow and read and reread in order to better understand your friends.

重讀已讀多遍的書(shū)籍，就像與老友對(duì)酌。覺(jué)得親切而愉悅，但有時(shí)也略感時(shí)光已然改變書(shū)與人，以及兩者的關(guān)系。然而，書(shū)不會(huì)變，變的是人。這正是重讀舊書(shū)如此富有內(nèi)涵且時(shí)歷時(shí)新的原因。

如果你酷愛(ài)閱讀，不論時(shí)間長(zhǎng)短，多半已重讀了自己喜歡的書(shū)籍，可能是人物有趣的小說(shuō)，可能是引人思鄉(xiāng)的故事集，也可能是兒時(shí)所得的詩(shī)卷，或找尋舊日情懷，或追求純粹歡愉，因人而異。但有一點(diǎn)無(wú)可置疑：每一本書(shū)本身就是理由。

每月我收到的書(shū)，冊(cè)數(shù)可觀，讓人望而卻步，或5本，20冊(cè)亦有可能。每一本都設(shè)計(jì)別致，護(hù)封吸睛，墨跡新鮮，精美絕倫。誠(chéng)然，面對(duì)充滿謀殺、秘密、政治陰謀的故事，面對(duì)容納大千世界的中篇小說(shuō)，我欲一覽而盡，卻猶如煎水作冰。不僅有妻兒需陪伴、晚宴需赴約、機(jī)車換油保養(yǎng)已推遲許久等事由，更有其他緣故：除結(jié)識(shí)精選的新書(shū)之外，我著實(shí)想與老友共飲一番了。

每年，我都會(huì)特地空出時(shí)間，必去重讀3本書(shū)。每年春天，我欣然翻閱的第一本書(shū)是海明威的《流動(dòng)的盛宴》。這部講述20世紀(jì)20年代巴黎生活的經(jīng)典回憶錄，在他逝世后于1964年出版。漸入暮年的作家以其幾近令人陶醉的語(yǔ)言，回味了那段充滿雄心壯志卻更加簡(jiǎn)單純粹的時(shí)光。

第二本是安妮·迪拉德的《神圣的堅(jiān)實(shí)》。這部1975年創(chuàng)作的詩(shī)意隨筆，無(wú)所不涉，筆觸空靈，比如撲火的飛蛾、基督教的洗禮和空難中被燒傷的小女孩。其開(kāi)篇寫(xiě)道：“每一天如神靈降臨，日日如此，神圣之感源源不斷如期而至。我崇拜每一位神，我贊美每一天，時(shí)光散落又聚合，宛如色彩斑斕的果莢，在黎明時(shí)分快速拂過(guò)座座高山。”雖然這部作品本身并無(wú)情節(jié)可言，但7歲的朱莉·諾威奇因空難而毀容一事或許極具戲劇性。總之，倘若沒(méi)有精心構(gòu)思的豐富情節(jié)便體會(huì)不到讀書(shū)的樂(lè)趣，那你很可能心理失常。

第三本是胡利奧·科塔薩爾的《拯救黃昏：詩(shī)歌精選》，因?yàn)樵?shī)歌也因?yàn)榭扑_爾。

雖然我經(jīng)常大量買書(shū)，這3本卻是他人惠贈(zèng)之禮，不覺(jué)間或許會(huì)賦予它們更多意義。我想，金錢固然美好且重要，但重讀書(shū)籍，特別是在作者已逝、再無(wú)用度之需的情況下，是讀者對(duì)他們的最好回報(bào)。

對(duì)閱讀如饑似渴的讀者，不停地體驗(yàn)著不同的世界。而一個(gè)人對(duì)世界的解讀，因其帶入閱讀的個(gè)人經(jīng)歷的不同而有所變化發(fā)展。我們之所以能體會(huì)書(shū)中人物的痛苦，是因?yàn)槲覀兘?jīng)歷過(guò)痛苦，對(duì)其他情緒的共情也是如此。重讀之美在于，閱讀作品的體驗(yàn)取決于我們當(dāng)下的心理、情感，乃至精神狀態(tài)。誠(chéng)然，年歲愈增，愈覺(jué)得光陰如飛。但說(shuō)到閱讀，那就是當(dāng)下的事——事關(guān)今時(shí)和對(duì)今時(shí)的意義，因?yàn)殚喿x就是作者和讀者之間的予與取，雙方都應(yīng)各盡本分。20歲出頭時(shí)，我對(duì)一些書(shū)感到厭惡，如今讀來(lái)卻覺(jué)得振聾發(fā)聵，有撥云見(jiàn)日之感。

那些隨著時(shí)間推移而愈加深邃的書(shū)就是好書(shū)。但請(qǐng)注意，這并非因?yàn)闀?shū)有什么變化。書(shū)中的每個(gè)字母和標(biāo)點(diǎn)依舊如初，也將恒久不變。發(fā)生變化的是你，人生閱歷的增加對(duì)你產(chǎn)生了影響。為了更好理解你的這些朋友，你必須不斷成長(zhǎng)，一讀再讀。

（譯者單位：湖南師范大學(xué)）

1（1945—），美國(guó)作家，以敘事散文聞名，創(chuàng)作范圍廣泛，涉及散文、詩(shī)歌、小說(shuō)和書(shū)信，皆直指生命的核心。文字細(xì)致精練，呈現(xiàn)出敏銳的觀察和充滿哲思的想象。

2（1914—1984），阿根廷著名作家，短篇小說(shuō)大師，拉丁美洲“文學(xué)爆炸”代表人物。