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living in the Eastern Jin Dynasty) loves reading. But if he lived in this modern world, wouldn¡¯t it be difficult for him to pass the entrance exam for college or graduate school, or TOEFL? I¡¯m afraid he might fail political economics, for he often reads without thorough understanding.
I was once accused of reading just for pleasure, which I had to acknowledge. And I admit that I do not do such hard reading. However, enjoying oneself while reading is not the same as seeking pleasure from reading. This truth could only be shared with those who have similar experiences, but not with those who don¡¯t.
I¡¯d like to view reading books as paying visits£¬in a spiritual rather than physical way. You can call on teachers you admire or scholars who are well-known without the trouble of previous informing or worries over bothering them. Once you open the book, it¡¯s just like you¡¯ve broken into the writer¡¯s house. Having turned over a few pages, you¡¯ve passed through the hall and gone into the inner chamber. Not only could you go there frequently at any time, but you could also take French leave or ask about others¡¯ ideas if you are unable to understand what the ¡®host¡¯ is trying to talk about. Whether the ¡®host¡¯ we shall visit lives in or out of our country, in modern or ancient times, majors in this or that subject, gives serious speeches or casual talks, we can always go over and listen to him as we please. We can listen to the students of Confucius tell about the words he once said with our great respect. Or we might jokingly ask this question---- if Mencius, who would often say ¡°This is also what is called humanity and justice¡±, lived in our times, would he be a faithful Marxist-Leninist? Besides, we could stay with Socrates and listen to his talks with a group of friends before his execution. Or we may reflect on and raise our doubts about Discourses, written by Epictetus, the Stoic philosopher. What¡¯s more, we¡¯re able to hear anecdotes handed down from the past times as well as learn about most profound and creative modern theories or those with a show of profundity. Anyway, we might just get away, as long as we can¡¯t see eye to eye with the other side, or
even slam the door, that is, to snap the book shut, and no one will get mad at us, which is the kind of freedom we can rarely get in the real world.
There is another totally different world hidden in the pot carried by Hu Gong (a legendary pharmacist in the Eastern Han Dynasty who is said to sell medicine in a market during the day and jump into his pot and disappear in the night). Likewise, in each book, whether a novel, drama, biography, travel book, diary, or a prose, poem, there is another different world, in which we can see different scenes and characters who live there. Therefore, we don¡¯t have to specially go somewhere and buy tickets to see some counterfeits and ¡°vivid¡± actors. As long as you open a book, you can walk into the real scene, and run into the real person, and watch the whole picture yourself.
Although the ancient Chinese scholars depicted the world of books as vast as the ocean, we can actually get easy access to anywhere in this world as if we were in one small community, which is definitely not an absurd parallel. However vast the world is, we could always get in touch with each other. While ¡°a great chiliocosm¡±, which the Buddha believes the whole world is, can be deemed the biggest, the world of books, which is a kaleidoscopic collection of past, present, and future, can be seen even bigger than that. However, in such a big world, we can go anywhere, see anything, and learn from anyone at anytime without having to travel. Those who regard scholars as shortsighted, unemotional and indifferent are absolutely wrong. As we have seen, they¡¯re able to obtain rich experiences and get to know various people from various times and places in this world of books, through which they could at least become less ignorant and more sophisticated.
Our bodies, which are invisible when we¡¯re paying ¡°visits¡± to books but actually existing, are simply human bodies. So we are not endowed with eyes like Buddha¡¯s, which could command the whole view of all the wisdom that human has accumulated during generations, but only have to bear in mind Chuang Tsu¡¯s quote ¡ª¡ª life is limited while knowledge is
limitless. We are just like ephemeral insects that sneak into the world of books, crawl or stay somewhere. If we encounter someone we admire, hear something we are pleased to hear, or get some enlightenment about questions lingering on our mind, we¡¯ll feel like suddenly illuminated¡ª¡ª a kind of delight that goes beyond words. Should this ¡°delight¡± be the same as ¡°seeking pleasure¡±? ²Î¿¼ÎÄÏ×£º
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