My book fate

Author: Dong Ningwen
Publisher:
Publishing Date: 2006-06-01
Features: A fascinating paper journey about book (fate/affinity with books). Dong Qiao, Yang Yi, Yu Guangyuan, and Lan Yingnian share their connections with books. There is so much to say, yet now is not the time to speak of it. Let me take you on a book journey with me! In my later years, the books in my house piled up more and more, almost becoming a burden, for which I even wrote an essay titled "Book Burden." But in those days, when I had just learned to read and needed books the most, I had none, not even a thin book, which was considered precious. It seemed that even in dreams, I could not obtain one. In this alternating emotion, my unending book revolved.
When I was in the third grade of elementary school, the teacher recommended a book published by the Open University Press titled "Student Life Leaflet Anthology," which included both vernacular and classical Chinese. I remember one essay was Zhu Ziqing's "The Shadow of My Father" and another was Li Mi's "Memorial to the Emperor." Each essay was only one or two pages long, and the price was very low, allowing me to save my breakfast money to buy several copies. Now, when compiled into a book, the price is much higher, around one yuan. I couldn’t afford it, so I asked my mother for the money. She agreed but couldn’t give it to me immediately, so she told me to wait a few days. Most of the classmates had already received the "Leaflet Anthology" and were deliberately raising their voices, proudly reading along with the teacher. I remember one time when we read "Min Yi Yan: Min Yi Yin Xun," the teacher wrote a long explanation for the characters "yin" and "min" on the blackboard and asked us to copy it into the book pages. Everyone was copying as instructed, but I had no book, so I copied it on a piece of paper. The teacher came over and asked me why I hadn’t copied it into the book pages. I stammered and didn’t dare to say I didn’t have the book, nor did I want to explain why. At that moment, I desperately wished I had such a book! But I didn’t, and it felt as if I had lost my moral support, making me feel completely unworthy of being in the classroom. I still can’t forget the shame and inferiority I felt in front of the teacher and my classmates back then, a pain that lasted for a long time. Later, my mother finally gave me the money, and my small school bag and bookcase finally had the book. Unfortunately, I had already left that class and school, losing both the subjective sense of pride from owning the book and the objective environment that accompanied it.
As I grew older, the number of books I bought and collected increased, even to the point of becoming unbearable. My feelings for books gradually became dull, and I began to realize that books are merely tools, with their value lying in their use. There are many ways to use books—reading, studying, researching, and referencing are all forms of use. Even using books as decorations to enhance one’s identity is a form of "use," though it borders on arrogance and excess. If one possesses a "tool" but fails to use it, instead locking it away, it becomes devalued in the process, just as arrogance and excess would.
In my later years, although my collection of books grew larger, compared to the predecessors and scholars who once owned vast libraries, I am but a small fish in a big pond. Facing these "tools" that I rarely used in the past and may not use much in the future, I can’t help but feel a sense of shame and a lament that time flies too fast. October 28, 2005. Lu Yuan, born in 1922. Poet and literary translator. Originally named Liu Renfu, also known as Liu Banjiu. From Huangpi, Hubei. Served as the Deputy Chief Editor of the People’s Literature Publishing House. Main works include "Onions and Honey" (poetic essays), "We Are Heading to the Sea" (poetry collection), "Ghostly Grass" (essays), etc. Translated works include "Faust," etc. P042-043