The study is to a scholar his private domain,his spiritual home and his intellectual world.I've been to the studies of several friends.Though of different sizes and with different furnishings,they are nevertheless about the same in boasting a roomful of books.Books shelved in bookcases lining the four walls.Books either piled up one upon another,or displayed in neat rows,or laid out in disorder like fields with crisscross footpaths or a jungle.In recent years,the appearance of various multivolume collected works in de luxe editions as well as selected works of every description has added to the splendour of a study.Among them there is no lack of great classics and master writings.On the other hand,some trash is inevitably mixed with them too.But that doesn't hinder the owner of the study from enjoying the company of his library.
書房,是讀書人心目中的一個(gè)私人領(lǐng)地,一個(gè)精神家園,一個(gè)智慧的世界。到過幾位朋友家的書房,盡管大小各不相同,陳設(shè)各異,但四壁書櫥架上,層層疊疊的書籍,或排成整齊的行列,或縱橫交錯(cuò)如阡陌叢林,滿屋子到處是書,則大體相同。新時(shí)期以來,各種多卷本全套硬面精裝的文集,形形色色的選集,足以令書房生輝。其間不乏名著佳作,可作為文化積累,但也難免混雜一些文化垃圾。當(dāng)然,這些都無礙于書房主人坐擁書城之樂。A study is always a place of enormous appeal to us.
書房永遠(yuǎn)是令人向往的去處。I've been engaged in writing for several decades,but I've never had a study of my own—a study that is independent,intact and true to its name,that is.I've moved many times,once even away from a big city to a remote small mountain village in another province.Whenever I moved,my books,cumbersome as they were,turned out to be the last thing for me to part with.I'm a bibliophile.My collection of books is far from being a big private library,but it keeps growing from day to day.Several times of house moving did not disperse my collection.On the contrary,it has become larger with each passing day until my small dwelling is overcrowded with them.Now the shelves of books in my study-cum-bedroom extend as far as the tiny toilet.No room is available to serve specifically as a study.
我從事筆耕數(shù)十年,從來沒有一間自己的書房,一間獨(dú)立的、完整的、名副其實(shí)的書房。我多次遷居,從大城市直至外省人煙稀少的小山村。每次搬家時(shí),惟有書籍最累人,也最難舍棄。我愛書,說不上藏書豐富,日積月累倒也可觀,幾經(jīng)遷移,不但沒有損失,反而日益增多,因?yàn)榫犹幍木窒?,每每有書滿為患之感?,F(xiàn)在我的臥室就是書房,群書延伸到小衛(wèi)生間的大書架上,無法騰出一室作書房。However,in the course of my career as a writer,I did once own a study,or,to be exact,a storeroom turned study.I was then living in an old house built at the turn of the century.It was quite roomy,so much so that the ground floor served even as a neighbourhood nursery.I and family lived in a room on the third floor,which was really big but impractical because,according to today's standard,it could have been divided into at least three rooms.Fortunately,close to the staircase just outside my room,there was a storeroom,which I regarded as something of great rarity to me because sitting inside it behind the closed door I could cut myself off from my family and work without any disturbance from my small kids.
然而,在我的文學(xué)生涯中,一度也有一間自己的書房。所謂書房,其實(shí)是一間貯藏室。那幢在本世紀(jì)初期落成的陳舊宅第,開間很大,樓下一間屋子就可作為街道辦的托兒所。我的一家住在三樓一大間,按今日標(biāo)準(zhǔn),至少可分成三間,真是大而無當(dāng)。不過房門外,緊靠樓梯,有一間貯藏室,倒是極為難得的。門一關(guān),可與全家的生活區(qū)完全隔絕,避免尚在幼年的孩子們往來干擾。The storeroom was the only study I've ever had in my life.Perhaps it could be aptly called a workshop.It was long,narrow and small.An old desk stood against a wall under the northern window.Two piled-up glass bookcases rose erect near the entrance.They were the furniture abandoned by a former resident.There was no room for anything else besides my old cane chair placed before the desk under the window.However,enjoying the privacy of a so-called study like this,I could do writing with high concentration.All festivals and holidays as well as all after-hours sparetime would find me confined in solitude to the tiny room to experience the delight of giving free rein to my literary thought and imagination.
這貯藏室于是成了我一生中惟一的書房,也許稱之為小作坊更為貼切。狹長逼仄的一小間,北窗下靠墻置一舊書桌,進(jìn)門處兀立兩只疊起來的玻璃書柜,都是原先住戶廢棄的家具。除了窗下書桌前可容納我的一把舊藤椅,就沒有多余的空間了。不過,這樣的一間書房,一個(gè)人躲在里面寫作,思想很集中。我利用一切節(jié)假日、下班后的全部業(yè)余時(shí)間,獨(dú)處斗室,創(chuàng)作的思維和想象空間都很廣闊。In the fifties,Shanghai was much colder in winter than now.The window panes would ice up and one's breath would freeze in the cold air.I would,with the window curtains drawn together,warm myself by a charcoal brazier over which a small kettle was sizzling away,and gradually move into the best state of readiness for creative writing.On the four walls,which I could easily reach by holding out my hand,I had several strings with scraps of paper hung on them stretched between nails.On these scraps of paper,I kept jottings of fragmentary materials for creative work,some linguistic gems and my original manuscripts awaiting revision.In this workshop,I turned out in a few years a large number of articles,both long and short,and,to my great surprise,some of the short essays I then wrote are today still to the liking of the reading public.
五十年代的上海寒冬臘月,氣候比現(xiàn)在冷得多。寒夜,窗上玻璃結(jié)滿冰凌,呵氣如霧。我拉上窗簾,以炭盆烤火取暖,讓身邊的小水壺在炭火上嘶嘶作響,伴隨我逐漸投入創(chuàng)作境界。室內(nèi)四壁都伸手可及,我在墻釘上掛著幾條繩索,以便掛上大小紙片。紙片上有創(chuàng)作素材的零星記錄,有詞海語林偶得的一鱗半爪,也有已成篇尚待修改的原稿。短短幾年,我在這作坊里,寫了不少長短文章,其中有些小文,至今還受到讀者的青睞,這是我想不到的。How I cherish the memory of the small study!Whenever I passed by the former residence with my children,who have now reached middle age,I never failed to show them the location of our old home and tell them that the third floor of the building which had changed beyond recognition had once been our home.Yesterday,when passing by the same place,I found that the old building was nowhere to be found and that a high-rise had been erected on its site.In the deepening dusk,I repeatedly turned round to look up at the towering structure and wistfully relived the old days I had spent in the small study.
我很想念那間小書房。有幾次偕孩子們路過其地,孩子們?nèi)缃穸嫉搅酥心辏看挝铱傄更c(diǎn)方位,告訴他們,那幾乎不復(fù)可辨的三層樓上,過去是我們一家住過的地方。昨日偶經(jīng)該處,發(fā)現(xiàn)舊屋原址上屹立著聳天高樓,舊居了無痕跡。我在夜色中頻頻回首仰望,悵然重溫我的那個(gè)書房舊夢(mèng)。《書房》是散文家何為寫于1999年6月21日的一篇佳作,選自他于2003年出版的散文集《近景與遠(yuǎn)景》。文章語言錘煉,簡潔明了,內(nèi)容真切感人,自然流露,從讀書人愛書談到自己一輩子沒有一個(gè)真正的書房,曾多年躲在一間局促不堪的儲(chǔ)藏室里伏案筆耕,佳作累累,不禁使人想起舊時(shí)上海“亭子間作家”的潦倒情景和中國文人的坎坷遭遇。