Chapter 71 tribute to the book

tribute to the book Stefan Zweig When I try to combine books and culture, in knowledge, in experience, in enabling me to go beyond myself In terms of the ability of the range, when everything given to me is removed, it immediately dissolves and disappears.no matter what I think Where do you want to turn, every object and every environment is connected with memories and experiences related to books together, and each sentence also relates to countless related events that I have read and known.for example, When I remember that I am on my way to Algiers and Tunisia, hundreds of related things come from

It flashed across my mind, as clear as crystal, and the word Algiers—Carthage—was involuntarily linked. Zoroastrianism, Sarangpo, Carthaginians, Romans, and each other in Chaima's works described in Liv's works battle, and at the same time a scene from a fragment of Greer Basil's play: this is topped with a frame of Terra The Colors of Crowe's Works, A Frobel's Description of Nature.In Charles V, in the advance of Algiers During the attack, Cervantes' injury, and a thousand other things, all reappeared before my eyes strangely, Two thousand years of war and China

Centuries of history, and countless other events welled up from the depths of my memory.think of a no I can't help but be amazed at how narrow the bookman's world will be.Moreover, I can have this thought, Can be deeply moved by the lack of knowledge from a wide world in Chiovari - I This ability to be deeply moved by the chance fate of a stranger is not due to my Is the gift of reading the works of the imagination?Because when we read, we are not only living the lives of others Live, observe with their eyes, think with their brains, what else is there?vivid from here From the moment of thanksgiving, with ever more vividness and greater gratitude, I recall countless times from the book

The gift received in the book.Like the stars in the sky, they appeared one by one, and I remembered the Leading from the narrow boundaries of ignorance, showing me new values, even in the age of childhood, can give Those defining moments with my feelings and experiences that expand my being.Books gave me about this vastness The original vision of the boundless world of , and the idea of ​​wanting to soak it up.The more I think of these things, I have come to understand more and more that a person's thought world consists of millions of simple impression elements, of which only a few

is the result of his own observation and experience: all the rest—the crucial synthetic group—comes From books, from what he read, indirect learning. Everywhere, not only in our time, books are the source of all knowledge, the beginning.The more closely a man is in contact with books, the more deeply he feels the unity of life, because His personality is compounded: he sees not only with his own eyes, but with the eyes of countless souls, Because of their sublime help, he will walk through the whole world with loving sympathy. All the progress in the world depends largely on two inventions due to human ingenuity.invention of the wheel, with

The dazzling transformation rolls forward along its axis, allowing us to move around.writing art Inventions excite our imagination and give our thoughts the opportunity to express themselves.The first one who doesn't know The famous man, in a certain time and place, surrounded the solid wood along the spokes of the car, and taught mankind Overcome the distance between isolated regions and people.Transportation immediately became possible with the first vehicles and goods can be transported, people can travel and learn, and it puts an end to the boundaries set by nature. which originally confined certain fruits, metals, stones, and byproducts, each to its own narrow

of origin.The country no longer depends on itself, but depends on the relationship with the whole world. The East And West, South and North, united by the invention of the vehicle.Just as the various types of vehicles different purposes, become part of locomotives, automatons, propulsion machines, overcome the attraction of nature In the same way, the art of writing is also like this. Its development has long since moved away from the handwritten scroll era and evolved from a single page. Throughout the book, I overcome the tragic limitations of that life and experience that haunt the individual.Have

Without books, no one has the need to shut himself up and stay in his own narrow cage, but can feel the world Everything that has happened or is happening in the world, he can share the thoughts and feelings of the entire human being.exist Almost everything that happens in the intellectual world today depends on books, and this form of life, Imbued with wisdom, transcending material relations, what we call culture cannot exist without books. This world-building power of the enlarged soul of the book is at work in our private, private lives, except It seldom makes itself present in our consciousness to command our attention, except at times of particular importance.

Books have become a part of our daily life, and this long history has prevented us from reading them every time Use them with due regard for their rarity.With each breath, we inhale oxygen, due to This invisible nutrient we make our blood a mysterious chemical nourishment, but Just as we never pay attention to this fact, so seldom do we realize that when we read, we We constantly absorb the food of the soul from the eyes, which nourishes or fatigues our spirit.because of U.S As a descendant of thousands of years of writing life, reading has almost become a physiological instinct, almost an automatic

moveable. Ever since we started going to school with books in our hands, we've lived with them Familiar, when we pick up a book, inadvertently, it seems that we pick up a coat, a pair of gloves, A cigarette, or anything else mass-produced to supply our daily needs— Sample.Familiarity breeds contempt, so that only in moments of true creation, contemplation, the contemplation of living, We see the true wonder of what we are used to.Only in this subconscious meditation It is only at this moment that we become reverently aware of the power of magic that books have given us to move the heart.

And the importance of this force in our lives makes it impossible for us to imagine that in this twentieth century, What would happen to our inner life without their miraculous presence. * * * I'm on a boat trip - it's an italian ship - on the mediterranean from genoa to nai Naples, from Naples to Tunis, and from there on to Algiers.The journey will take several days, and There were very few passengers on board.So I got into a lot of chatting with a young Italian who was one of the sailors. Then, suddenly, overnight, an invisible wall separated us.Here we are Naples, the steamer loaded with coal, passengers, provisions and mail, the usual cargo at each port things, began to anchor again, and noble Posillipo looked like a hill, like a cloud on Vesuvius. It was almost the pale smoke ring of cigarettes, when he suddenly walked towards me, smiling brightly, and gave me a proud smile. Looking at a letter he just received, asking me to read it to him. At first I didn't understand his purpose, I thought he, Giovanli, had received a letter in a foreign language. The letter, in French or German, was evidently from a woman—I knew women must adore him Such a young man—now he just asks me to translate her letters into Italian.But no, this The letter is in Italian.So what does he want me to do?Do you want to read this letter?no, he said, Almost impatiently, he asked me to read the letter to him, and read it aloud to him.so i immediately Suddenly.This young man is as beautiful and intelligent as the one in the painting, possessing innocent wit and innocence. The refinement of his own country belongs to the ignorant population, which is statistically seven or eight per cent. one of the characters.He is illiterate. This is how the whole thing happened, and the whole reason why I have the following feelings.but my real experience But the test has just begun.I lay on a chair on the bed, looking out at the gentle night beyond the boat.this strange What happened to me disturbed me.This is the first time I met an illiterate.a European.one i think is Someone who is smart and talks to as a friend.I am troubled, even painful, not understanding that in a man like him In my mind, cut off from all written things, what would the world be like.I try to put myself in the shoes of For people like him.He picked up a newspaper, unable to understand.He picked up a book, and the book was in his hand, Just an object lighter than wood or iron, square and colorful, a utterly useless thing West; he put it aside, not knowing what to do with it.He stood in front of a bookstore, and the beautiful, yellow, green, red, white, oblong things with gold decorations on their backs, For him, it is just a painted fruit, or a perfume whose fragrance cannot be smelled when the bottle is tightly sealed.he Hear the divine names of Goethe, Dante, Shelley, Beethoven, and more.And it meant nothing to him; he They are inanimate syllables, an empty, emotionless sound.