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(xiàn)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(fā)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(yǎng)我，但確診后，她第一次發(fā)現(xiàn)自己沒有足夠的能力繼續(xù)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(dǎo)致這種病，而由于在貧困線上掙扎的同時還要獨自撫養(yǎng)一個小孩確實會引發(fā)焦慮，所以他們就想當(dāng)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(zé)，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(zāi)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(zhuǎn)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(guān)切、慈愛的照料，而且當(dāng)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(guān)鍵階段。

那時，我把自己全部的家當(dāng)都塞進背包里：衣服，課本，幾支筆，兩張照片，已故爺爺?shù)膽驯怼汀豆げㄌ亍?。那時，唯有你創(chuàng)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(chuàng)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。一度我能把整個宇宙都帶在身上，逃離那個讓我不滿的狹小世界，那個分崩離析而我又無力挽回的世界。盡管我現(xiàn)在明白那種意義上的逃離并不能解決問題，但那是一個八歲的男孩能夠企及的一切。

我是法國人，而《哈利·波特》法語譯本的出版時間總是晚于原版。那年圣誕節(jié)，我唯一想要的禮物就是你的英文原版新書，和一本雙語詞典。我花了幾周時間解讀和翻譯這本書，盡管我的譯文無論用哪個標(biāo)準(zhǔn)評判都很差勁。然而我腦中有了計劃，有了目標(biāo)，能讓自己保持忙碌，這個計劃給我?guī)淼囊嫣幉豢蓜傺浴?/p>

今天寫這封信，回顧我小時候的情景，我感到自己幸運得難以置信，因為你堅持了自己的夢想，我才有機會讀到你創(chuàng)作的故事。

我已經(jīng)長大了。我現(xiàn)在是巴黎大學(xué)英美文學(xué)專業(yè)的研究生，在寫一篇關(guān)于一位籍籍無名的美國詩人的論文。我的碩士學(xué)位論文已經(jīng)完成，在全國范圍內(nèi)獲了獎并發(fā)表了，我還在英國度過了兩年教授法語的美好時光。然而，曾幾何時，即便我取得了（小小的）成功，我也覺得自己很失敗，直到最近，我才學(xué)會了感受成功的喜悅。

今天早上，我偶然發(fā)現(xiàn)2008年你在哈佛大學(xué)發(fā)表的演講，我迫切地想要寫信給你，雖然我知道你幾乎不可能會讀到這封信。幾個月以來，我的觀念第一次被你簡練、坦率的演講所改變。這只是我新認知的開始，但你的文字又一次幫助了我，雖然方式不盡相同，但和多年前《哈利·波特》幫助我活下去是一樣的。

我只想讓你知道我心存多少感激：你作為作家，用自己的能力，在我最需要的時候，讓我的世界變得更光明。謝謝你。