致J.K.羅琳的信：你的文字給了我家的感覺

I’ve lived most of my life fighting against depression， and I still do. Yet， even in my darkest moments， your words have kept ringing in my ears and it is high time I said thank you. When I was eight， my mother was 1）diagnosed with 2）multiple sclerosis. She had been raising me alone on very little money for the most part of six years， but for the first time in her life she found herself quite unable to take care of me. I soon became a burden for the rest of the family.

My grandparents， aunts and uncles had heard somewhere that anxiety might have been the cause of the disease and because raising a child by oneself while struggling with poverty 3）elicits anxiety， they found it easier to blame my mother’s illness on the child—i.e. me. Without even considering the disastrous effects their behaviour could have on the mind of an eight-year-old， they refused to take full responsibility for （I quote） “the monster who had destroyed his own mother”.

For almost two years， I was moved from home to home， like a 4）pawn on a chessboard， from one family member to the next. Not only had I lost my home and the careful and 5）benevolent attention given to me by my mother， but also I was now feeling guilty， unworthy and had lost confidence in people and in myself. For good or bad， this was a 6）decisive moment in my life.

At that time， I was carrying my whole life in a backpack： clothes， school books， a few pens， two pictures， my dead grandfather’s pocketwatch—and Harry Potter. Your books， your words and my imagination were then the only things to provide me with some enduring sense of home. I could return to them， knowing for sure that the fantasy world you had created was somehow waiting for me， wherever I was. I could carry a whole universe within me， and escape， for a time， from this small and unsatisfying world of mine， which I couldn’t prevent from falling apart. Even if I now understand that escapism， in that sense， is not a solution， as an eightyear-old boy it was all I could hope for.

I am French， and French translations of Harry Potter were always published with a delay. All I asked for Christmas that year was your latest book， in English， and a bilingual dictionary. I spent weeks 7）deciphering the book and producing what would by any standard be considered as an awful translation. Yet I had a project in mind， a goal， something to keep me busy， and it helped me more than I could say.

Writing this letter today and looking back to the child I was then， I just feel incredibly lucky that you pursued your own dream and wrote those books.

I’ve grown up. I’m now a post-graduate student in English and American literature at the 8）Sorbonne， writing my dissertation on a rather obscure American poet. I’ve completed a master’s thesis， which was nationally awarded and published， and I’ve spent two amazing years teaching French in the UK. Yet， until very recently， even my （small） successes were but failures to me.

When I came across an amazing speech you gave at Harvard in 2008 this morning， I felt the urgent need to write， even though I know it is most unlikely that you’ll ever read this letter. For the first time in months， your simple and honest speech helped me change my point of view. It’s just the beginning of a new understanding for me but your words are helping me once more， not in the same way， but quite like those of Harry Potter that helped me survive years ago.

All I want is to let you know how grateful I am： your ability as a writer contributed to make my world a little bit brighter when I needed it the most. Thank you.

我人生過去的大部分時間都在和抑郁作斗爭，現在依舊這樣。然而，即便是在我人生中最黑暗的時刻，你的話也一直在我耳邊回響，是時候向你道謝了。我八歲時，我媽媽被確診患有多發性硬化癥。在那之前的六年里，基本上是媽媽靠著微薄的收入獨自撫養我，但確診后，她第一次發現自己沒有足夠的能力繼續照顧我了。很快，我成了親戚們的包袱。

我的外祖父母、阿姨和舅舅從某處聽說焦慮可能會導致這種病，而由于在貧困線上掙扎的同時還要獨自撫養一個小孩確實會引發焦慮，所以他們就想當然地把媽媽的病怪罪在孩子的身上——也就是我的身上。他們拒絕為這個（引用他們的原話）“毀了自己母親的怪獸”負起全責，甚至沒有顧及自己的行為會給一個八歲孩子的心靈帶來災難性的影響。

幾乎有兩年之久，我就像棋盤上的卒子，一次又一次地被轉移，從一位親戚家到另一位親戚家。我不僅失去了自己的家，失去了媽媽關切、慈愛的照料，而且當時我還有一種罪惡感，覺得自己沒有價值，不信任別人，也失去了自信。無論是好是壞，那都是我人生中的關鍵階段。

那時，我把自己全部的家當都塞進背包里：衣服，課本，幾支筆，兩張照片，已故爺爺的懷表——和《哈利·波特》。那時，唯有你創作的書、你筆下的文字和我的想象能持久地給我家的感覺。不知怎么地，我確信你創造的奇幻世界在等著我，無論我身在哪里，我都可以回到《哈利·波特》的世界里。……