The Graveyard Book
The Graveyard Book 🎠
Children have no concept of life and death. To them, the graveyard is more like an amusement park.
Thank you 🙏 🐼 to the reader who sent me another book.
To be honest, the number of books I’ve read has dropped drastically since I went abroad. From a few hundred books a year before, it has now become only a handful.
I used to proudly say that reading should be driven by interest and not for any reward. Now, it’s a complete contradiction.
But there are also objective reasons:
Firstly, most of the books I want to read now have original versions. Since there are original versions available, I don’t really want to read the translated versions.
Secondly, one time when I was on the phone, I was overheard by a friend from NUS (National University of Singapore). Afterwards, she repeatedly mocked me, saying “your plastic English.”
But I have my stubbornness, even though I’m slow, I still insist on reading the original version. I should be able to speed up one day, just like with Chinese books.
Thirdly, my county is an island. It’s not as beautiful and lonely as you all great people have said about foreign countries. And during the initial period of the outbreak, I once thought that this place was a paper-developed country. It’s summer all year round here, except it’s a bit hot, everything else is pretty comfortable. Blue sky, white clouds, rainstorms, thunder and lightning. It feels like time has frozen, which is quite nice.
Without any ulterior motives, naturally I lost the motivation to read.
Now that there’s a Circuit Breaker, I finally have some time and mood to read.
When I first received this book, I thought it was science fiction. When I heard it can make one invisible, I thought it was fantasy. When I encountered a girl, I thought it was a love story. When I went to school, I thought it was a campus story. When my dad came to the scene to bring someone back, I thought it was about family. When the whole family was killed, I thought it was a mystery. In the end, it turns out it’s about growing up.
Just as the author wrote at the end:
I finished the sixth chapter, “Bod’s School Days,” in a run-down hotel in New Orleans, USA. I completed the last page in my own garden gazebo, fighting back tears as I wrote. Only at that moment did I understand why I didn’t write this book when I had just become a father. Because before I could start creating, I needed to accompany my children through their growing years, nurture them, love them, and finally learn to let go.
Also, it was difficult to immerse myself in the story while reading. The whole book gave me a feeling of a Harry Potter knockoff.
But there was one obvious difference in this reading experience. When I used to read such novels before, it would often be from the perspective of the protagonist. But as I’ve grown older, this time it was more from Silas’ perspective.
If this book followed the usual fantasy routine in China, Bod would definitely have gotten the girl, Scarlett, tamed Sleer, become the Master, fought with Jack, and become the leader of the Brotherhood.
However, none of this happened in Neil’s American Gods. After Bod defeated the monsters 👾, the girl was actually scared off, and Bod just had an ordinary thought of “the world is so big, I want to go and see.”
As a father, do you hope to see your own Bod become the typical one in China or the one in the book 📖?
There are also some stupid things done during rebellious periods that parents have to bear the consequences for. Now that I’m older, I understand the difficulties and reasons behind the various prohibitions my parents imposed back then.
But thinking about it, there’s no solution. My younger self didn’t know the things that I know now.
I once imagined if my present self could have a conversation with my past self, my past self definitely wouldn’t have obediently listened. I would have to be hit by society’s iron fist in the face to wake up and realize, and resolutely do certain things.
After dealing with everything, there will come a day when we have to step out of the realm of fairy tales and enter real life.
“Good-bye, then, Silas.” Bod held out his hand, as he had when he was a small boy, and Silas took it, in a cold hand the color of old ivory, and shook it gravely.
“Good-bye, Nobody Owens.”
Bod picked up the little suitcase. He opened the door to let himself out of the crypt, walked back up the gentle slope to the path without looking back.
When I left, I was in a more miserable state. No one sent me off, no goodbyes. I got my deposit back from my apartment in Beijing, bought a one-way ticket, and packed everything into three suitcases. At 4 a.m., I took a taxi to the airport. After checking in, boarding, I just left.
without looking back
How I wish I had heard Bod’s imaginary voice at that moment:
He took a step forward… a voice said, “I am so proud of you, my son.”
Translated by gpt-3.5-turbo