The book of my life

Author: (English) Colin Wilson
Translator: Chen Cangduo / Country: United Kingdom
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2006-06-01
Features: My Life with Books is a work by Colin Wilson dedicated to books and writers, thinkers. The selected books are carefully curated, mostly masterpieces exploring the meaning of human life, and they involve the intricate relationships between literary history, intellectual history, and academic history. Thus, this book naturally becomes a microcosm of modern Western literary and intellectual history. Moreover, since these books are the ones that "deeply influenced me" and "made me think," the author's psychological, physiological, and personality development were directly affected. This gives the book a strong autobiographical flavor, making it a history of personal growth. Analyzing the successes and failures of over twenty masters, appreciating the styles of hundreds of writers and thinkers, and browsing the titles of hundreds of renowned works, this book is a feast for book lovers and collectors. A microcosm of modern Western literary and intellectual history, a snapshot of personal spiritual growth, and a feast for readers and collectors.
The selected books in this book are carefully curated, mostly masterpieces exploring the meaning of human life, and they involve the intricate relationships between literary history, intellectual history, and academic history. Thus, this book naturally becomes a microcosm of modern Western literary and intellectual history. My Life with Books is a work by Colin Wilson dedicated to books and writers, thinkers. The selected books are carefully curated, mostly masterpieces exploring the meaning of human life, and they involve the intricate relationships between literary history, intellectual history, and academic history. Thus, this book naturally becomes a microcosm of modern Western literary and intellectual history. Moreover, since these books are the ones that "deeply influenced me" and "made me think," the author's psychological, physiological, and personality development were directly affected. This gives the book a strong autobiographical flavor, making it a history of personal growth. Analyzing the successes and failures of over twenty masters, appreciating the styles of hundreds of writers and thinkers, and browsing the titles of hundreds of renowned works, this book is a feast for book lovers and collectors. A microcosm of modern Western literary and intellectual history, a snapshot of personal spiritual growth, and a feast for readers and collectors.
The selected books in this book are carefully curated, mostly masterpieces exploring the meaning of human life, and they involve the intricate relationships between literary history, intellectual history, and academic history. Thus, this book naturally becomes a microcosm of modern Western literary and intellectual history. Although this obsession with books began very early, I did not, like some children, start learning to read at the age of three or four. I was always absorbed in what I was passionate about. During my childhood, these things were cakes, toys, and comics, especially those featuring space mice and Donald Duck. So, although I learned the alphabet in the first two years of school, I did not want to learn the words in the spelling books. However, I progressed to the point where I could read the dialogue of comic characters. Then, I tried to read stories with interesting illustrations and was surprised to find that I could understand all the words. I then turned to a comic weekly with smaller fonts and found that I could read it as well. By the time I was about seven, I was reading weeklies aimed at twelve-year-olds. Two years later, around nine or ten, during the early days of World War II, I was deeply interested in a "boy" magazine called The Magician. This was one of five similar magazines, each published on a different day of the week—Monday was Adventure, Tuesday was The Magician, Wednesday was The Rover, Thursday was The Reckless Kid, and Friday was The Captain. However, among schoolchildren, The Magician had the highest reputation, almost entirely due to a series of stories called The Truth About Wilson. About a year later, a sequel appeared. Every Tuesday evening after school, I would rush to the newsstand, pay two pence, and start reading on the way home, only focusing on the roads on both sides of the street to avoid being hit by cars.
"Finally," one story began, "I can finally tell the truth about Wilson. He is a sensational figure in the history of sports. At that time, even people who were generally uninterested in sports could name him. His photograph appeared in newspapers and magazines all over the world. The films he starred in were shown in cinemas from Melbourne to Valparaíso." This helped explain why the story was so appealing to young readers: the author believed that schoolchildren were smart enough to have heard of Melbourne and Valparaíso. In fact, the entire series for boys was intellectually very high-level. The author showed obvious knowledge of sports events held in different parts of the world, leaving readers with a strong impression of authenticity. The Truth About Wilson treated schoolchildren as if they were adults. However, the most attractive part of the story was, of course, the protagonist himself. The story began at an international sports meet, where Britain suffered heavy defeats in most events. The microphone announced that the one-mile race without obstacles was about to start. Just as the runners crouched to prepare for the start, a stranger climbed over the fence and joined their ranks. His face was thin, his eyes deep-set, and he wore a long, old black sweater that reached his ankles, with only his feet visible. Just as the race officials debated whether to stop the race, the new entrant suddenly sprinted forward at an astonishing speed, quickly overtaking the other competitors. Everyone held their breath, waiting for him to collapse, because everyone believed that no one could maintain such a speed for more than one hundred yards. Yet, he ran like a racehorse, circling the track again and again. He completed the one-mile distance in three minutes and forty-eight seconds. The crowd cheered so loudly that their voices were hoarse, and at that moment, the black-clad runner collapsed.
The narrator of the story, a sports journalist named Weber, approached him. The stranger opened his eyes and asked, "Did I run the mile in under four minutes?" Weber said yes, and the stranger sighed in relief. It seemed he was not concerned about whether he had run well, only whether he had broken a record. When answering questions, he said his last name was Wilson but refused to say anything more (in fact, we never found out his name). At this point, Wilson said he had to leave, so Weber suggested giving him a ride. However, when Weber stopped to call the editor, Wilson was gone. P6-7