琴弦間的人生

In order to tell what I believe， I must briefly sketch something of my personal history.

The turning point of my life was my decision to give up a promising business career and study music. My parents， although sympathetic， and sharing my love of music， disapproved of it as a profession. This was understandable in view of my family background. My grandfather had taught music for nearly forty years at Springhill College in Mobile and， though much beloved and respected in the community， earned barely enough to provide for his large family. My father often said it was only the hardheaded thriftiness of my grandmother that kept the wolf at bay. As a consequence of this example in the family， the very mention of music as profession carried with it a picture of a precarious existence with uncertain financial rewards. My parents insisted upon college instead of a conservatory of music， and to college I went—quite happily， as I remember， for although I loved my violin and spent most of my spare time practicing， I had many other interests.

Before my graduation from Columbia， the family met with severe financial reverses and I felt it my duty to leave college and take a job. Thus was I launched upon a business career—which I always think of as the wasted years.

Now I do not for a moment mean to disparage business. My whole point is that it was not for me. I went into it for money， and aside from the satisfaction of being able to help the family， money is all I got out of it. It was not enough， I felt that life was passing me by. From being merely discontented I became acutely miserable. My one ambition was to save enough to quit and go to Europe to study music. I used to get up at dawn to practice before I left for “downtown，” distracting my poor mother by bolting a hasty breakfast at the last minute. Instead of lunching with my business associates， I would seek out some cheap café， order a meager meal and scribble my harmony exercise. I continued to make money， and finally， bit by bit， accumulated enough to enable me to go abroad. The family being once more solvent， and my help no longer necessary， I resigned from my position and， feeling like a man released from jail， sailed for Europe. I stayed four years， worked harder than I had ever dreamed of working before and enjoyed every minute of it.

“Enjoyed” is too mild a word. I walked on air. I really lived. I was a free man and I was doing what I loved to do and what I was meant to do.

If I had stayed in business I might be a comparatively wealthy man today， but I do not believe I would have made a success of living. I would have given up all those intangibles， those inner satisfactions that money can never buy， and that are too often sacrificed when a mans primary goal is financial success.

When I broke away from business， it was against the advice of practically all my friends and family. So conditioned are most of us to the association of success with money that the thought of giving up a good salary for an idea seemed little short of insane. If so， all I can say is “Gee， its great to be crazy.”

Money is a wonderful thing， but it is possible to pay too high a price for it.

為了闡明我的信念，我有必要先簡述一下我的個人經(jīng)歷。

我人生的轉(zhuǎn)折始于“棄商從樂”這個決定。盡管父母都體諒我，并跟我一樣熱愛音樂，但他們都反對我以音樂為職業(yè)。從我的家庭背景看，這完全是可以理解的。我的祖父在莫比亞的斯普林希爾學(xué)院教了將近40年的音樂，雖然在社區(qū)里備受尊敬和愛戴，但卻也只能勉強(qiáng)維持一大家子的生計(jì)。父親常說，是祖母堅(jiān)持勤儉持家才使得全家免遭饑餓。緣于祖父這樣的前車之鑒，只要一提起以音樂為職業(yè)，大家便認(rèn)為這是份冒險(xiǎn)、收入不穩(wěn)定的工作。父母堅(jiān)持讓我上綜合大學(xué)而非音樂學(xué)院。我的確去上大學(xué)了，記得我過得挺開心的，因?yàn)楸M管我喜歡演奏小提琴，大部分業(yè)余時(shí)間都用于練習(xí)，但我也還有許多其他的愛好。

在我從哥倫比亞大學(xué)畢業(yè)前，家中陷入經(jīng)濟(jì)危機(jī)，我覺得自己有責(zé)任退學(xué)找份工作。于是，我開始了從商的生涯——我總認(rèn)為那段時(shí)光不過是虛度光陰罷了。

我無意貶低從商，重點(diǎn)是那并不適合我。我為賺錢而從商，獲得了養(yǎng)家糊口帶來的滿足感，然而，除了錢，我從中別無所獲。而這遠(yuǎn)遠(yuǎn)不夠，逝者如斯，最初我只覺得不甘心，后來我愈來愈覺得無比痛苦。我唯一的目標(biāo)是攢夠錢后辭職，去歐洲學(xué)習(xí)音樂。以前，每天離家去市區(qū)上班前，我常常天亮?xí)r就起床練習(xí)小提琴。臨走前囫圇吞下早餐，可憐的母親也為我苦惱。我不和同事共進(jìn)午餐，而是找一家便宜的咖啡店，簡單吃頓飯，然后潦草地寫下我的和聲練習(xí)曲?！?br>