The Last Light of the Book Fair
On the final day of the book fair, most of the publishers’ meetings had wrapped up. Editors arranged to meet with freelance illustrators, making the day lively with greetings and goodbyes and plenty to discuss.
The exhibition hall was packed with independent illustrators carrying their portfolios, recommending themselves based on their style and fit with various publishers. Some were self-published authors seeking partnerships. Each person was interesting in their own way.
An older French gentleman came up to me, holding the leash of a rough-coated fox terrier. He politely introduced the story outline he had created and mysteriously said that the story’s protagonist was right here, listening to my thoughts. I smiled at him. He raised his chin seriously and glanced at his dog, who sat on our carpet, tilting its head toward me, wearing a scarf patterned just like its owner’s. Playfulness knows no age—but keeping that childlike spirit can light one’s long journey through life.
A shy, timid young woman quietly showed her portfolio and recent attempts. When the editor-in-chief told her she had earned a chance to submit a trial manuscript, she smiled with pursed lips, her brown freckles making her even more adorable. Watching my colleagues, I thought back: Were they the same when they first started? And me—wasn’t I just like that when I landed my first internship?
A large group of young illustrators surrounded us for an interview. The boy leading them was relaxed as he introduced each member of his team. I asked what style he personally drew. He chuckled and said, “They’re all illustrators. My English isn’t good. I’m just their translator.” Somehow, he reminded me of twenty years ago during grad school entrance exams—when most were nervous, there was always that one guy who seemed calm and carefree. He was a classmate’s boyfriend, not taking the exam, only organizing everyone’s lunch. It’s funny how, when the spotlight isn’t on you, you can be completely at ease. But who decides where that spotlight falls?
Most illustrators have distinct, unconventional styles you can spot at a glance: some wear rings on every finger, some favor floor-length pants, others sport nose or lip piercings. But if you listen patiently to their creative ideas, their work will surprise and impress you. The hardest thing in life is empathy—people trying to capture the world often amplify their most sensitive, subtle perceptions.
Later that afternoon, the fair quieted as teams packed sample books. Steve said, “Let’s wait a bit longer. There’s an illustrator and her mother on their way. We want to keep the booth looking its best for their photos, then we’ll pack up.” So we waited until nearly closing time.
I was called over by a neighbor for some champagne. When I returned, the illustrator and her mother had arrived. Steve introduced us warmly, and I shook their hands enthusiastically. This illustrator had painted a wonderful series for our company. With over 20,000 books in the publisher’s catalog, it’s hard to remember everyone, but meeting the artist in person was a pleasure. Soon, though, I noticed something was off. While everyone welcomed her warmly and kept a steady pace, I quietly kept my doubts to myself.
Next came the photo session, with everyone positioned exactly as she requested, following her lead. Afterward, her gaze fell on a poster on the wall. She called over several colleagues and seriously shared her thoughts about the design’s use of blank space and image placement.
Her mother wore an earth-toned trench coat, hands in pockets, hair neatly curled, eyes tired but full of tenderness. Speaking slowly in Italian-accented English to Steve and me, she said, “Thank you for giving her a job. She may not do well at many things, but she really is good at drawing. Thank you. Last night I couldn’t sleep, worrying about today’s six-hour drive. I knitted her a little red hat. Look how good it looks on her.” I smiled warmly, feeling a swirl of emotions. Saying goodbye, I thought about how heartbreaking a parent’s love can be. A mother in her seventies driving six hours just to support her daughter’s meeting, staying up late knitting a hat—how many restless nights and worries were woven into that red hat? Raising a special child, giving her time and space to grow at her own pace, free from society’s judgment, demands immense patience and genuine acceptance. For a family, this is a hardship—not a treasure—but a lifetime’s devotion to nurturing a life. Parenting with heart is respecting each person’s individuality. To be loved and respected like that, she is lucky. If the world could let everyone be understood and accepted in their own unique way, wouldn’t every life be full of meaning?
Countless people pass through our lives. There may not be many new wonders, but if you reach out with your senses, you’ll find some little red hats quietly illuminated by a gentle light in unexpected moments.
书展上最后的光
书展最后一天，大部分出版社的会议就结束了。编辑同事们把合作的插画师约在这一天见面，好多要聊的话题，迎来送往十分热闹。
展会上挤满了个人插画师，他们带着自己的作品集，依据个人风格和出版社的契合程度，向对方推荐自己。也有独立作者，带着自己的打样文稿，来出版社寻求合作。每个人都很有趣。
一位有了点年纪的法国绅士，牵着一条刚毛猎狐梗，他礼貌地走向我，给我介绍了他创作的故事梗概，还神秘地说，故事的主人公此时正在此处听取你对这个故事的看法。我笑着看着他，他一脸严肃扬了扬下巴，眼睛瞟向他的狗。主人公正端坐在我们的地毯上，歪着头看我，脖子上带着和主人一样花色的围巾。童趣，和年龄无关，但是保持童心却可以一直照亮漫长的人生岁月。
一个很年轻的女孩子，又怯懦又腼腆，声音小小地展示了自己的作品集和最新的尝试，当她从主编那里得知，可以获得一次试稿的机会后，激动地一直抿着嘴唇笑，她脸上的棕色小斑点看上去特别可爱。我看着几个同事在想，十几年前，她们入职时，也是这样吗？我争取到第一个实习工作时，也是这样吧。
一大群年轻的插画师围住我们来面试，领头的男孩子非常轻松，一一向我们介绍他带来的团队。我问他，你自己是画什么风格的呢？他嘻嘻一笑，说，他们都是插画师，英文不太行，我是他们抓来做翻译的。恍惚间，他让我想起二十多年前，研究生考试，大家出入考场多少有点紧张，人群里有个男孩子神情自如，谈笑轻松，他是管院一个女生的男朋友，那天他不参加考试，他只负责安排大家的午餐。有趣，当舞台的光不照着你时，人就是可以轻松自在啊。可是谁来决定，那束光在哪里呢？
大部分的插画师都有些特立独行地装扮特点，你几乎可以在人群里一眼看出来哪些人是搞艺术的。他们有戴着满手戒指的，有喜欢穿拖地长裤的，有装点着鼻钉唇钉的，但只要你有耐心去听他们陈述自己的创作思路，他们的作品都很让人眼前一亮。世间最难的，便是去感同身受。人们在追求对世界的描述时，往往会放大最细微敏锐的灵魂触角。
下午晚些时候，书展上渐渐安静下来，团队开始打包样书。Steve说，再等等，有个插画师和她妈妈正在赶来的路上。想把展位最好的状态留下来，给她们拍照，等接待完她们再收摊。那一天，我们一直等到了快闭馆。
我被隔壁邻居喊过去喝香槟，回来时正看到那位插画师和她妈妈已经到了。Steve给我们彼此做了介绍，我热情地和她还有她妈妈握手。这位插画师为公司画过一套不错的系列。出版社有两万多本书，我确实很难记住每位同事，但能见到画家本人还是让我很开心的。可是很快我就发现了一些不太对的地方，见到所有同事都保持着一样的接纳和节奏，我也把我的判断放在了心里。紧接着是拍照的环节，我们每个人的站位都是按照她的要求来的，谁都要保持她要求的秩序。拍完照片，她眼神落在了一面墙上的海报，然后把几个同事都叫过去，很严肃地讲起来对画面留白设计以及图片位置的想法。
此时，她妈妈穿着大地色的风衣，双手插兜，发丝整齐微卷，眼神疲惫却满是温柔看着她，用很慢的意大利式英文跟我和Steve说，谢谢你们给了她一个工作，她也许做不好其他事情，但是她真的很擅长画画。谢谢啦。昨晚我失眠，想到今天需要开6个小时的车子，内心有点不安，一晚没睡，给她织了一顶小红帽。你们看她，带着多好看啊。我面带微笑地附和，内心充满复杂的情绪，和她们挥别时，我在想，可怜天下父母心，七十多岁的老母亲为了成全女儿，要驾车6个小时陪着她来见见合作方，还会熬夜为她织毛线帽子，这一顶小红帽，织进了多少母亲的深夜与不安。养育一个特别的孩子，能给她机会和时间按照她的节奏来成长，不被世俗眼光所左右，需要父母付出极大的忍耐，充满最大的真诚去接纳。对于一个家庭来说，这样的体验一定是场苦难，苦难不是人间财富，是这对父母用毕生精力在滋养一个生命。用心养育，是尊重每个人作为个体的存在，能获得这样的尊重和爱，她是幸运的。如果这个世界允许每个人用自己最擅长的方式被理解、被接纳，是不是每个生命都能被赋予意义？
这世间来去的林林总总，会一直在我们身边经过。世间新鲜事不多，但如果你愿意伸出触角去感受，总有一些小红帽，会在不经意的瞬间，被一束光温柔地点亮。