By June Thomas 译 / 辛献云

文具也是一种信仰？对“嗜纸如命”的作者来说，这话毫不夸张：家里摆放着几百本笔记本却不舍得用；旅行时最爱徜徉的景点是文具店；对各种类型的纸和笔如数家珍。也许你觉得她太疯狂，但她说：“对文具缺乏信仰的人永远也无法明白笔与纸的完美结合能给人带来多少欣慰。”姑且放下成见，听她讲讲她与纸的不解情缘吧。

On a shelf not too far from the desk where Im typing sit 267 unused notebooks. Tallying1） them up was a little disturbing. Its one thing to suspect you possess more than enough paper to capture every thought youll ever have； its another to know it for sure. But despite this abundance， I still want more—in the last week alone， four more journals have joined their dusty comrades， and I just ordered another off the Web.

My name is June， and I am a stationery2） addict. When Im feeling overwhelmed or dispirited， nothing perks me up3） more than a few minutes perusing the Notebook Stories blog or staring at photos of other peoples stationery collections online. Or， better yet， wandering the aisles of a quality paper emporium4）. Sometimes the thrill comes from recognizing the hunting-and-gathering skills of the stores owner： Whenever I go to Papeterie Nota Bene in Montreal （and I go to Montreal mostly to go to Papeterie Nota Bene）， the proprietor5） always seems to have tracked down new items that Ive never seen before but immediately need to own. Or perhaps Im drawn to the miracle of small differences. Its inspiring to see shelves and shelves of almost identical items， knowing that tiny details—rounded versus squared corners， slight variations in grid scale and ink color—can elevate the so-so to the spectacular.

I am also a keen stationery tourist. Notebooks make perfect souvenirs， since a notebook bought on a trip will remind you of your vacation every time you write in it. All I can remember of a long weekend in Lisbon is a broiling6） August sun， the difficulty of finding a restaurant open on Sunday evening， and an insanely eclectic7） stationers that was the first place I found my all-time favorite pen， the Rotring Xonox Graphic. （That model seems to have been retired—the replacement Tikky Graphic is fine but not quite the same.） Kyoto， Japan， is a blur of temples and carefully tended sand gardens， but I can visualize the exact layout of the peculiar store where I bought some beautiful Year of the Ox cards. And many a trip to my home town of Manchester has been redeemed by a few hours in the huge branch of Paperchase8）.

I am not alone in my obsession. There are two kinds of people in the world： those who understand that， in a stationery store， every book has to be examined， every paper block caressed， and every potentially suitable pen tested； and those for whom buying a notebook is like shopping for eggs： They find the size they want， make sure its in one piece， and take it to the till9）. Never go shopping with those people； theyll be ready to leave before youve figured out where the Leuchtturm1917s10） are stashed11）.

But even we paper fiends12） come in different stripes13）. Perhaps because my own fixations are essentially anti-social （I am drawn to small notebooks that no one else will ever get to look inside）， Im fascinated by folks who love social stationery—cards， notepaper with matching envelopes， and kits14） full of stickers and sheets of pastel paper15）. How can they stand to share their finds with other people？ I guess theyre just less selfish than me. Or perhaps more practical： Since I cant bear to tear pages out of my notebooks， I end up scrawling notes to friends on oversize legal pads16） or on the backs of to-do lists. In a house full of notebooks， I can never find a decent sheet of writing paper when I need it.

Why do I love stationery？ My absolute delight in browsing paper palaces gives me a glimmer of the addicts compulsion， an overwhelming desire for something I really dont need. Fortunately， stationery is a harmless obsession—most of the items I jones17） for cost less than $25—and while acquiring 300 notebooks isnt a wise investment， it hasnt put me in financial peril， either.

And like any collector， I find pleasure in knowledgeable connoisseurship18）. Im not as obsessed with pens as I am with paper， for example， but I know what I like， and that is JetStream Uni-ball ballpoint pens with a 1 mm refill19）， Muji Gel-Ink pens with a 0.7 mm refill， Pilot Precise V7 retractable20） rollerballs， Zebra G-301 Gel Retractable pens with a 0.7 mm refill， or disposable Varsity fountain pens from Pilot.

I also know that pens are only special when paired with the right paper. And I am a regular Dolly Levi21） of paper-pen matchmaking. The unbreakable rule is： ballpoint pens for composition books， reporters notebooks， and college-ruled22） spiral-bound23） books with university logos on the front； gel inks or fountain pens for Moleskines24） or supersmooth Japanese or Korean paper. Some notebooks even insist on a No. 2 pencil25）. I never know for sure until I open up a journal for the first time.

Sometimes， notebooks can be intimidating. How could my scribblings be worthy of the gorgeous hand-made journal I found in a Parisian stationers so packed with irresistible goodies that I finally understood the pain of Sophies Choice26）？ One of the reasons my stationery shelf is so crowded with pristine27） items is that I do most of my writing in inexpensive， mass-produced notebooks. I make work notes in college-ruled composition books—preferably the commonplace Mead variety. Since there are stacks of them in every drug store and school-supply warehouse in America， theyre the opposite of daunting. And best of all， they change as you fill them—theyre a couple of centimeters fatter when completed， and the sound made by flipping through the crinkled pages is one of the most satisfying I know.

But the real thrill of the paper chase lies in the sense of possibility. After all， I dont spend a lot of time putting pen to paper. I do most of my writing， professional and personal， on a computer. But those notebooks are my life raft—I just know theyll rescue me if I get lost for words. Notebooks have sprung me from creative funks28） enough times to convince me of their mystical powers. I feel about notebooks the way I imagine believers feel about their religion： Someone who lacks faith in stationery will never understand how much comfort the perfect combination of pen and paper can provide. Faced with a task I dont know how to tackle or a story that just wont be written， I approach the notebook shelf knowing that something there will get me out of my jam.

This is why， to me， notebooks are irresistibly beautiful objects： Their shape evokes the intellectual satisfaction of the great books， combined with the endless possibilities of the unknown： The next thing I write in one might be the best thing Ive ever written.

离我现在打字的书桌不远处有一个书架，上面放着267本尚未使用的笔记本。清点它们还是让人有些烦心的：怀疑自己拥有过多的纸张来记录脑海中出现的每一缕思绪，这是一回事；而确定地知道这一点又是另外一回事。不过，尽管我已有了这么多本本，我还是想要更多。仅仅在上周，就有四个笔记本加入了它们那落满灰尘的同类行列，而我刚刚又在网上定购了一本。

我叫琼，是个文具迷。每当感到迷茫无助或是情绪低落时，我就会花上几分钟时间品读“笔记本故事”（编注：一个关于笔记本等文具的博客网站）上的博文，或者细细端详别人在网上发布的文具收藏品照片，再没有什么比这更能使我精神振作的了。或者，更为理想的做法是徜徉于优质纸品店铺的货架间。有时，那种兴奋感来自于对店主搜罗文具本领的欣赏：每当我光顾位于蒙特利尔的诺塔-贝内文具店（我到蒙特利尔多半是为了去诺塔-贝内文具店），我会发现店主似乎总能搜罗到一些我前所未见却又想立刻拥有的新东西。或者，我可能会被那些细微差别所带来的神奇效果而吸引。……