游记 | Bill Bryson | Notes From A Small Island

Finally I finished reading this book, last weekend. I wanted to write something about it right away, however, it's been a crazy week and I've been occupied with loads of works until just now (In fact I've still got works to do this afternoon. But work is endless and today is Saturday so why not take a break).

One of my new year's resolutions is that I want to write something for every book I read and every movie I watch so here I am; and since this book is written in Enghilish, I figure it is only fair to write this in English as well.

It's been quite a while since my last time writing something full in English. It was in Dec 2016, on a train when leaving Manchester. Almost 3 months already, ha, how time flies.

When I bought this book in London, I imagined that it would, ideally, remind me of the places I've been to and scenes I've seen when I was studying in the UK. I would nod when reading certain pages and say to myself "hey that's it and I know it". However, the reality is rather disappointing. In most times, I have very little idea of what the auther is talking about since appreantly he writes in a native-speaker way but I'm not that familiar with English. In other cases, he uses simpler expression which I feel more comfortable to understand yet talks about things can barely evoke my feelings. I waited for half of the book until he finally started depicting Manchester yet through the whole part, he talks about some old TV series which obviously I by no means would know about. What an annoying shame!

I realise that I'm writing some negative things about this book; and I have to make it clear that, it doesn't mean I think this is a terrible book; in fact I quite enjoyed it. I guess the reason why I expressed such feelings is that this one year, during which I studied in the UK, is so important to me; and in the meantime, I'm so eager to seize it, to make it stay clear and vivid in my memory as long as possible. I need something, the book in this case, to help me achieve this goal. But it fails. I'm not disappoited about the book itself, but my wish fails to realise.

It is not as sad as it looks though. I especially like the part in which Bill writes about Edinburgh. He describes every bit of the feelings I want to express yet couldn't find a proper way to do so. And the very last part fo the book, in which Bill confesses his love for the UK, really touches me. It makes me feel that although I don't know Bill, neither can I speaks English the same well, I'm connected to him, breaking the limits set by time and space; and he says the exact things I want to say. So amazing.