试着慢下来,慢到别人会觉得这很荒谬,你会获得非常好的体验
作者发现生活中的很多事,默认速度都太快了,当他以非常慢的速度阅读《指环王》后,获得了人生迄今最好的阅读体验。
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准备朗读
I’ve been reading Lord of the Rings for two months and I’m just at the end of the first part. It’s not because I’m not enjoying it. It’s one of the most enjoyable reading experiences I can remember.
我已经读《指环王》两个月了,现在才刚读到第一部快结束的地方。并不是因为我读得不开心。恰恰相反,这是我记忆中最愉快的阅读体验之一。
From the beginning, I’ve read the whole thing aloud. I’ve found reading aloud helpful for staying engaged — limiting myself to mouth-speed rather than eye-speed means I won’t rush, miss important details, and then lose interest, which has always been a problem for me.
从一开始,我就是把整本书朗读着读的。我发现朗读很有助于让我保持投入——把阅读速度限制在“嘴巴的速度”,而不是“眼睛的速度”,意味着我不会读得太快,不会漏掉重要细节,然后因为没看懂而失去兴趣。这一直是我的一个老毛病。
At first I was anxious to read a 1,500-page book this way, because it would take so long. But, as someone pointed out to me, if I’m enjoying it, why would I want to be done with it sooner?
一开始,我一想到要用这种方式读一本1500页的书,就有点焦虑,因为这得花太长时间。但后来有人提醒我:既然我读得这么享受,为什么还要希望早点把它读完呢?
So I tried slowing down even more, and discovered something. I slowed to a pace that felt almost absurd, treating each sentence as though it might be a particularly important one. I gave each one maybe triple the usual time and attention, ignoring the fact that there are hundreds of pages to go.
于是我试着把速度再放慢一些,结果发现了一个有意思的东西。我把速度放慢到一种近乎荒谬的程度,把每一句话都当成它可能是一句特别重要的话来读。我给每句话投入的时间和注意力,大概是平时的三倍,完全不去管后面还有几百页没读。
This leisurely pace made Middle-Earth blossom before my eyes. When I paused after each comma, and let each sentence ring for a small moment after the period, the events of the story reached me with more weight and strength. That extra time gave space for Tolkien’s images and moods to propagate in my mind, which they did automatically.
这种悠闲的阅读节奏,让中土世界在我眼前真正绽放开来。每当我在逗号后稍作停顿,在句号之后让一句话在脑中多回响片刻,故事里的事件就会以更强的重量感和力量感抵达我。多出来的这些时间,为托尔金笔下的画面和氛围在我脑海中扩散腾出了空间,而且这一切会自动发生。
Some part of me still wanted to rush and get on with it, to make good time, to gloss over the songs and lore to get to Moria and Mount Doom and the other marquee moments of the story. But the more I ignored that impulse, the better the experience got.
我内心仍然有一部分想赶紧往下读,想加快进度,想略过那些歌谣和背景传说,赶快读到摩瑞亚、末日火山,以及故事里其他那些著名的高潮场面。但我越是不理会这种冲动,阅读体验反而越好。
By offering the book about triple the usual amount of attentiveness, I was getting about triple the storyness (i.e. meaning, engagement, literary pleasure). Whatever the thing is that I’m seeking when I pick up a novel in the first place, there’s much more of it available at this pace.
当我给这本书投入大约三倍于平常的注意力时,我得到的“故事感”似乎也差不多变成了三倍——也就是更多的意义、更强的投入感,以及更多的文学愉悦。不管我最初拿起一本小说时真正想获得的东西究竟是什么,在这种阅读速度下,我都能得到更多。
Eating Comprehension
吃东西也有“理解力”
This effect reminded me of a paradox around eating I recognized long ago. When you slow down your eating speed, say to half or a third your default speed, you get much more enjoyment out of a smaller amount of food. The extra attention given to each bite allows more of the “good stuff,” whatever that is exactly, to reach you.
这种效果让我想起很久以前就注意到的一个关于吃东西的悖论。当你把吃饭速度降下来,比如降到平时的一半或者三分之一,你反而能从更少的食物中获得更多享受。每一口食物得到的额外注意力,会让更多那种“真正好的东西”抵达你——至于那东西究竟是什么,其实很难说清。
What’s paradoxical is that it’s precisely the seeking of that “good stuff” that normally drives me to eat so quickly, and miss most of what I’m seeking. When you try to barrel ahead to access the good stuff quicker, you get less of it in the end. Slow down and much more of it is released.
悖论就在于,平时恰恰是因为想尽快获得这种“好东西”,才会驱使我吃得那么快,而结果却是,我反而错过了自己真正想得到的大部分东西。当你试图一路猛冲,想更快地获得那些好东西时,到最后你得到的反而更少。慢下来之后,更多的东西才会真正释放出来。
And it’s released automatically, in both reading and eating. You don’t have to search it out. The good stuff (the meaning in the text, the pleasure in the eating) just rises up to meet you in that extra time you give it. Slowing down, and offering more time to the act of consumption, immediately increases reading comprehension (and eating comprehension).
而且无论阅读还是吃东西,这些东西都是自动释放出来的。你不需要刻意去寻找。那些“好东西”——文字里的意义、进食中的愉悦——只要你多给它一点时间,就会自己浮上来迎接你。只需要慢下来,给“消费”这个动作更多时间,你的阅读理解力就会立刻提高——吃东西的“理解力”也是一样。
Both are analogous to slowing down while you vacuum a carpet. If you pass the vacuum head too quickly, you miss half the dirt. Slow down, and you can hear how much more grit is sent skittering up the tube. The suction and bristles are working, but they need more time to do their work fully, to draw up the deeper-lying stuff.
这两件事都很像你用吸尘器清理地毯。如果吸尘头移动得太快,一半的灰尘都会被漏掉。慢下来,你就能听见更多细小的砂粒被吸进管道里的声音。吸力和刷毛其实一直都在工作,只是它们需要更多时间,才能把工作做彻底,把那些藏得更深的东西也吸出来。
Question the default settings
质疑你的默认设置
It seems that my default consumption speeds for reading and eating (and maybe everything else) reduce the rewards of those things significantly, undermining the point of doing either.
看起来,我在阅读和吃东西时默认采用的“消费速度”——也许包括其他一切事情——都大幅削弱了这些行为本来能够带给我的回报,甚至有点破坏了我去做这些事本身的意义。
Part of it is my own impatience. But I also suspect that modern living, with its infinite supply of consumables, tends to push our rate-of-intake dials too high. I’m not going to run out of books, or snacks, or opportunities to learn something. There’s always more, so not every crust of bread or printed page needs to be appreciated fully.
其中一部分原因当然是我自己没耐心。但我也怀疑,现代生活里几乎无限供应的各种“可消费品”,让我们不知不觉把自己的摄入速度旋钮拧得太高了。我不会没有书看,不会没有零食吃,也不会缺少学习新东西的机会。永远都有下一个,所以好像每一块面包、每一页文字,都没必要被彻底地品味。
Internally though, the mind is juggling like Lucy and Ethel on the conveyor belt at the chocolate factory. Our receptors for meaning and appreciation, like the vacuum head, need more time to do their full work, to make all the connections they’re designed to make.
但在我们的内部,大脑却像《我爱露西》里 Lucy 和 Ethel 在巧克力工厂传送带前那样手忙脚乱。我们用来接收意义、产生欣赏的那些心理机制,就像吸尘器的吸头一样,需要更多时间才能把工作做完整,才能建立起它们原本能够建立的所有联系。
It might sound like I’m just offering clichés – less is more, stop and smell the roses, take your time – and I guess I am. But clichés suffer the same issue: they are often profound insights, consumed and passed on too rapidly for their real meaning to register anymore. You really should stop and smell roses, as you know if you’re in the habit of doing that.
听起来,我好像只是在重复一些陈词滥调——少即是多,停下来闻闻花香,慢一点——我想确实如此。但这些陈词滥调本身也遭遇了同样的问题:它们原本往往是很深刻的洞见,只不过被人们消费和传播得太快,以至于真正的含义已经来不及在我们心里落下。你真的应该停下来闻一闻玫瑰,如果你平时就有这个习惯,你会知道这句话并不只是废话。
At least see what happens when you reduce your consumption speed – of anything, but especially books, information, and food – by a half, or two thirds. Notice that (1) something in you really wants to plow through at the highest viable setting, and (2) how much more of the reward is released when you slow down anyway.
至少可以试试看,当你把自己的消费速度——不管消费什么,尤其是书籍、信息和食物——降低一半,甚至降低三分之二时,会发生什么。注意观察两件事:(1)你身体或大脑里的某个部分,确实会非常强烈地想把速度开到能够承受的最高档一路冲过去;(2)即便如此,只要你坚持慢下来,你会发现其中能释放出的回报多了多少。
As far as I can tell, almost everything becomes more satisfying when you give it more time and intention, even things like checking the mailbox or writing a shopping list.
至少据我观察,几乎任何事情,只要你愿意投入更多时间和更明确的注意力,都会变得更加令人满足,甚至包括查看邮箱或者写购物清单这种小事。
Speed alters taste
速度会改变你的品味
Slowing down your rate of consumption will inevitably change what you want to consume. Reading throwaway news articles or AI slop with great care and attention is only going to show you how empty of value it is. Reading dense writing in inky old books, crafted for your mind by great masters, becomes easier without the rushed pace, and the meaning just blooms out of it.
降低自己的消费速度,必然会改变你想要消费什么。假如你非常认真、非常仔细地去读那些看过就扔的新闻文章,或者AI批量生产的垃圾内容,你只会越来越清楚地发现它们有多么空洞。反过来,当你不再急着往下赶时,那些印在老书上、由大师精心写给你的头脑阅读的密集文字,反而会变得更容易读,而其中的意义会自然而然地绽放出来。
Same with food. Try to savor a cheap, waxy “chocolate” bar, or a bag of store-brand cheese puffs, and you discover a harsh taste that you don’t want to look at too closely. Enjoy a homemade pastry with great attention, and discover there’s even more in it than you realized.
食物也是一样。试着认真品味一块便宜、蜡味很重的所谓“巧克力”,或者一袋超市自有品牌的芝士膨化食品,你会发现其中有一种粗糙刺鼻的味道,根本经不起细看。可如果你全神贯注地去吃一块自制糕点,你反而会发现,它里面藏着的东西比你原先意识到的还要多。
Mass production is good in so many ways, but the faster we tend to consume its fruits, the more we end up seeking things for their glossy, candied surfaces. The more we go for these surface-level rewards, the more the culture focuses on offering only that part – such as TikTok videos, processed food, CGI-forward movies, and public discourse in the form of unexamined talking points.
大规模生产在很多方面当然都是好事,但我们消费这些产物的速度越快,就越容易开始追逐那些光鲜、甜腻的表层刺激。我们越是追求这些表面层面的奖励,整个文化就越会集中精力只给我们提供这一部分——比如 TikTok 短视频、加工食品、以CGI视觉效果为主的电影,以及由未经思考的现成观点组成的公共讨论。
Who knows how far we’ve drifted from the best modes of consuming the things we value. Once something becomes a norm, it seems like an appropriate standard, no matter how much has been lost. Apparently, reading silently and alone was unusual until as late as the 18th century. Certainly sit-down meals and cooking at home were.
谁知道,我们如今消费自己真正珍视之物的方式,已经偏离最佳状态多远了。一旦某种做法成为常态,它看起来就会像一个理所当然的标准,无论在这个过程中已经失去了多少东西。据说一直到18世纪,独自默读仍然是一件并不寻常的事。当然,坐下来认真吃一顿饭、在家做饭,也曾经如此。
I don’t mean to sound like a scold. Let’s say none of this is morally good or bad. It’s just that in so much of what we do, we could be getting much more of the part of it that we really seek — but it’s only available at slower speeds.
我并不是想摆出一副训人的样子。姑且就认为这些事情本身没有什么道德上的好坏。只是我们做的很多事情里,其实都可以得到更多自己真正想要的那部分东西——只不过,那些东西只有在更慢的速度下才会出现。
If you’re curious, try consuming things more slowly, so slowly it seems silly to others — say a third your habitual speed — and see what rises up to meet you.
如果你好奇,不妨试着把消费任何东西的速度放慢一点,慢到在别人看来甚至有点可笑——比如降到平时速度的三分之一——然后看看,会有什么东西自己浮上来迎接你。