雙語閱讀：談一場戀愛如同讀一本新書

　　Starting a new book is a risk, just like falling in love. You have to commit to it. You open the pages knowing a little bit about it maybe, from the back or from a blurb on the front. But who knows, right? Those bits and pieces aren’t always right.

　　Sometimes people advertise themselves as one thing and then when you get deep into it you realize that they’re something completely different. Either there was some good marketing attached to a terrible book, or the story was only explained in a superficial way and once you reach the middle of the book, you realize there’s so much more to this book than anyone could have ever told you.

　　You start off slow. The story is beginning to unfold. You’re unsure. It’s a big commitment lugging this tome around. Maybe this book won’t be that great but you’ll feel guilty about putting it down. Maybe it’ll be so awful you’ll keep hate-reading or just set it down immediately and never pick it up again. Or maybe you’ll come back to it some night drunk or lonely — needing something to fill the time, but it won’t be any better than it was when you first started reading it.

　　Maybe you’re worn out. You’ve read tons of books before. Some were just light weights on a Kindle or Nook, no big deal really. Others were Infinite Jest-style burdens, heavy on your back or in your purse. Weighing you down all the time. Maybe you’ve taken some time off from reading because the last few books you read just weren’t worth it. Do they even write new, great works of literature anymore? Maybe that time you fell in love with a book before will just never happen for you again. Maybe it’s a once in a lifetime feeling and you’re never gonna find it again.

　　Or something exciting could happen. Maybe this will become your new favorite book. That’s always a possibility right? That’s the beauty of risk. The reward could actually be worth it. You invest your time and your brain power in the words and what you get back is empathy and a new understanding and pure wonder.

　　How could someone possibly know you like this? Some stranger, some author, some character. It’s like they’re seeing inside your soul. This book existed inside some book store, on a shelf, maybe handled by other people and really it was just waiting for you pick it up and crack the spine. It was waiting to speak to you. To say, “You are not alone.”

　　You just want more of the story. You want to keep reading, maybe everything this author’s ever written. You wish it would never end. The closer it gets to the smaller side of the pages, the slower you read, wanting to savor it all. This book is now one of your favorites forever. You will always wish you could go back to never having read it and pick it up fresh again, but also you know you’re better for having this close, inside you, covering your heart and mind. Once you get in deep enough, you know you could never put this book down.

　　讀一本新書恰似墜入愛河，是場冒險。你得全身心投入進(jìn)去。翻開書頁之時，從序言簡介直至封底你或許都知之甚少。但誰又不是呢?字里行間的只言片語亦不總是正確。

　　有時候你會發(fā)現(xiàn)，人們自我推銷時是一種形象，等你再深入了解后，他們又完全是另一種模樣了。有時拙作卻配有出色的市場推銷，故事的敘述卻流于表面，閱讀過半后，你方才發(fā)覺：這本書真是出乎意料地妙不可言，這種感受只要靠自己去感悟!

　　你慢慢翻頁，故事開始緩慢展開，而你卻依舊心存猶疑。閱讀這樣的巨著需要百分之百的投入?；蛟S它并不是你想象中的偉大的作品，奈何半途棄讀會使你覺得不安。又或許，故事真的很爛，你要么咬牙苦讀下去，要么立刻放棄束之高閣。抑或某個酒醉或孤寂的夜晚，你又重新?lián)炱疬@本書來——但只為打發(fā)時光。不管怎樣，它并沒有比你初次閱讀時好多少。

　　或許你已疲憊至極。你曾閱覽無數(shù)，有些無足輕重?zé)o甚重要，而有些卻像荒誕諷刺的包袱，沉重地壓在你背上或藏在你行囊里，隨時都可能壓垮你?；蛟S因?yàn)樯洗巫x的書索然無味，你已暫時避開閱讀時光。還會有優(yōu)秀的新文學(xué)作品么?只怕等你再次戀上一本書前，那優(yōu)秀的新作品永遠(yuǎn)也不會出現(xiàn)罷?；蛟S這真的就是千年等一回、除卻巫山不是云了。

　　當(dāng)然，生活總會有新鮮事發(fā)生，你也會有新的愛書。一切總有可能，不是嗎?這正是冒險的魅力。得到的也大抵物有所值吧。你在字里行間播撒時間和心思，自然便可收獲新的感悟、理解與遐思。

　　怎會有人知道你喜歡它呢?某個陌生人、作者，抑或書中的某個角色。他們似乎能看透你的心思。這本書，它陳列在某隅書店的書架上、它經(jīng)人輾轉(zhuǎn)，真的就像是在等你捧起翻閱，等著向你低語：“我會伴你左右。”

　　你渴望更多故事，你繼續(xù)閱讀，甚至搜集這位作者以往所有作品。你希望故事永遠(yuǎn)延續(xù)。書頁越翻越薄，你也越讀越慢，心里想著要細(xì)細(xì)含英咀華。此刻，它確定無疑就是你永恒的至愛了。你總想一讀再讀，每次捧起它都感覺新奇如初，而你也明白：因?yàn)閮?nèi)心深處的每一縷思緒都與它這般親密，你已變得更加美好。

　　情動至深那刻，你便知道自己再也將它割舍不下了。