 放大圖片
■香港擁有很多藏書量豐富的圖書館。圖為九龍公共圖書館。 資料圖片
Fai
Many a time, students come into my office, look at the rows of books that line the wall, and ever so slightly begin to move around in the chair. I can see that a question is slowly forming in their mind. They are not comfortable with the question, because it sounds naive and disrespectful. But the question is such that it would not be suppressed, and so after struggling with it for a while, they allow it to come out. Looking a bit abashed(adj.不好意思的), they ask, "Professor, have you read all these books?"
Facetiously(adv.開玩笑地), I answer, "No, I have not read a single one of them. I put them on the shelves just to impress people."
The real answer would be that there are books there that I have not touched since putting them on the shelf, and there are others, or at least portions of them, that I have read over and over. Nobody, except for very exceptional reasons, really read reference books, for example. They are there to be consulted when one is looking for specific information. On the other hand, there are books that deserve to be read repeatedly, either for the insights or pleasure that they offer. Incidentally, the two are often inseparable.
But how do I account for keeping books that I have not read, and in all likelihood, shall not read in my life? Some of them made it to my shelf through an honest mistake. When I bought them, I genuinely(adv.確確實實地)thought that I would read them. Then other pressing things intruded, and I left them on the shelf. In the meantime, the books might have become outdated(adj.過時的), or my interest changed, but it would be too much trouble to go through my collection to weed(v.去除)them out. And there they are allowed to remain as a result.
In the last 3 years, I moved office 3 times, including one that traversed(v.橫跨)the Pacific Ocean. The weight of the books became a real concern, and it occurred to me that I had to cut down on the clutter. I decided arbitrarily that I would throw out one in every 5 books. It was a painful process–to give away or not to give away–but in the end I got rid of boxes and boxes of books, which I donated to the library or left outside my office for passers-by who might be interested in them.
Whenever my colleagues hear about my draconian(adj.過於殘酷的)way of trimming my book collection, they think me heartless. I would agree with them, too, if we were living in a different age, when books were difficult to come by. Stories are told of scholars in the past who traveled over hills and seas in order to get a glimpse of a rare book. Many of them risked their lives to preserve a valuable title from destruction. These are of course noble and courageous actions, and if to a lesser extent, they are still very much in evidence today.
Yet, there are other factors for us to take into consideration. The production of books is not cheap, both in terms of money and the environmental cost. When one thinks of the trees, the chemicals, the ink that go into the making of a book, it is difficult to justify owning a book but not reading it. It would be different in a restrictive(adj.限制的)society where knowledge is put under tight control. But H.K is relatively open as far as information flow is concerned. The internet is left unregulated for the most part, and with so many libraries around, many of which provide interlibrary loan services, it does not make sense to hold on to books that one does not have an immediate need for. It would be much better to curb(v.控制)our desire to possess, and help save another tree in the process. ■kingfaitam@gmail.com
|
放大圖片
