Science and Culture Journey Series -- Year After Year, a Bed of Books (Science and Culture in the Red Dust)

Author: Jiang Xiaoyuan
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2003-01-01
Features: Reading is one of the most delightful things in my life. In the noisy mortal world, I read when I am happy, read when I am frustrated, and read when I am wronged. I always feel that sitting at home with a good book in hand and a cup of hot tea beside me, immersing myself in the book, forgetting worries, and being far from the mortal world, is the greatest enjoyment of my life, the most comfortable and happy life. Therefore, it is okay to skip a meal for a day, but not okay to skip reading for a day. Whenever I go on a business trip, my suitcase must contain a thick book—even if it means bringing fewer clothes.
Author's Preface: "A Bed of Books Year After Year" Preface by Jiang Xiaoyuan
Thirty years ago, during the late Cultural Revolution, I was a spiritually lost "classical literature enthusiast." During the day, I worked as an electrician in a textile factory, and after work, I immersed myself in Chinese classical literature to escape reality. At that time, while reading Lu Zhaoren's "Ancient Air of Chang'an," I was particularly struck by the lines:
"Silently and lonely, Yang Xiong dwells in his chambers,
Year after year, a bed of books by his side.
Only the southern mountains' osmanthus blooms,
Flitting and fluttering, brushing his robes."
I loved the imagery and recited these lines endlessly. While later generations often criticized Yang Xiong, these four lines by Lu Zhaoren truly capture the ideal state of a reader. However, though I was spiritually lost back then, I was not as restless and rushed as I am now—time then was almost meaningless, so I couldn’t appreciate the preciousness of Lu Zhaoren’s poetic realm as I do today. Now, everyone knows the world is filled with restlessness and competition, yet almost no one is immune. I too am caught in the tide, and can only hold this as my goal, a form of self-motivation.
There is an ancient saying: "With books, one is truly wealthy; with nothing to do, one is a small immortal." This is also what I aspire to, but in today’s world, it is as unattainable as it is desirable—I have plenty of books, but too many responsibilities. The more tasks I have, the less time I have to read, and the further I stray from the "immortal" state.
I remember that during the Southern Dynasties, people defined a "scholar" as someone who "has nothing to do, often drinks wine, and thoroughly reads Li Sao." Today, there are many who call themselves scholars, and they likely still drink wine often, but I doubt they ever read Li Sao. Reading—excluding reading manuals or professional training materials—requires leisure. Some say, "Technology is born of busyness, culture of leisure." This is a well-conceived and well-expressed idea, but "technology" should be replaced with "skills," as science and technology are fundamentally different. True science, like culture, can only emerge from leisure.
Pursuing science and culture requires sacrifice—often spending time and money. Without investing time and money, science and culture will not fall from the sky. Now, countless good books are published, but leisure is hard to come by. We cannot wait for an "age of leisure" to arrive—we must fight for it now, strive for it now, at least "stealing half a day’s leisure from life." The ancient saying "Stealing half a day’s leisure from life" shows that such struggles and efforts were already needed and existed in ancient times.
For those who no longer worry about food and clothing today, we can advise: "No matter how poor, buy books; no matter how busy, read." Because when lost in material desires, reading can rekindle our spiritual home; when tormented by worldly affairs, reading can restore our true hearts to peace.
The books reviewed and introduced in this collection are those I have read in the past three years. They are all books I believe are valuable, worth recommending or introducing, or at least worth noticing (including those I have criticized). Otherwise, I would not have written the reviews. Most of the articles in this collection were originally published in newspapers and magazines such as China Reading News, China Book Business News, Southern Weekly, Guangming Daily, Science Times, Wenhuibao, Wenhui Reading Weekly, Reading, Book City, and Wenjing. A few were published in academic journals as "academic articles." The versions here are the original drafts. Some articles contain repeated content, but I have not edited them to preserve their authenticity. Readers are asked to forgive this.
Most of the articles were written on request from editors. Naturally, friends from publishing houses would try to influence editors to promote books from their own presses, but editors choose books to review based on their own judgment and standards. What pleases me is that the editors of these newspapers and magazines never forced me to write reviews of books I disliked. Did friends from publishing houses directly ask me to write reviews? I admit it did happen, but they never forced me to do so. In fact, whether it’s publishing houses, newspapers, or magazines, their outstanding professionals naturally know who likes what books. Based on this, they can easily secure contributions from authors and inspire their creativity.
Since I am writing on request, I must also read on request. If time permits, I am not averse to such commissioned work, as it motivates me to read. Whenever books arrive from newspapers, magazines, or publishing houses—delivered by express mail—they remind me of Lu Zhaoren’s poem and that ancient couplet. Then, I have no choice but to make time for reading. After reading, I must reflect and discuss. Those lovely editors often discuss these books with me over the phone—usually from Beijing—and send "gentle reminders" via email. While I occasionally feel frustrated by all this, in the end, I sincerely thank these editors.
Think about it: if someone constantly encourages you to read and write, why wouldn’t you be grateful?