《孤独或类似的东西》读后感（共2篇）

《孤独或类似的东西》读后感

读完某一作品后，相信你心中会有不少感想，这时就有必须要写一篇读后感了！是不是无从下笔、没有头绪？以下是小编为大家收集的《孤独或类似的东西》读后感，欢迎大家分享。

每个人都是独特的个体，或多或少地拥有自己的故事。每个人也难免，会有自己与芸芸众生格格不入的感受的时候，这多半也是在一个人感到孤独的时候。我常常在想一个边缘人的生活，或许是安妮宝贝早期笔下的`那些年轻又爱离家出走的茫然无措的青年，或许是耶茨《十一种孤独》中那些每日在世俗中度日的普通人，或许是村上春树写过的直子或者多畸作，或许是帕慕克《新人生》中那个不停寻找的年轻人(我忘记他叫什么名字了)，不管他们的经历有怎样的差异，和普罗大众相比，他们显然是截然不同的人生。

《孤独或类似的东西》里的各位主人公也差不多如此。五个小短篇，《八月的倾斜》是初中时的恋人去世后难以摆脱的精神麻痹与十多年后即将成婚前的放下;《慢慢地下坡吧》是对一个普通人的一生所谓顶峰与下坡的思考;《孤独或类似的东西》是双胞胎姐姐在妹妹去世后的感情的压抑;《共鸣》是读书会的年轻人在玩自杀游戏后一个人却真的自杀了的思索;《灵魂之笼》是母亲殉情后成为孤儿的小女孩十几年里将自己困在牢笼终致抑郁。每个故事里的人都是不同的经历，这些不同的经历建构了他们不幸的人生旅途。

我们每个人或许不会有类似于他们的经历，但由这些不幸的人的所有遭遇以及感情所在，却是能够真切地去感受到的。孤独、痛苦、无望、困惑，尽管际遇迥异，但是感情始终是一致的。

每个普通的个体，在一往无前的生活中隐藏了每个人独具的经历与忧伤，这些经历与忧伤或大或小地影响着各自的人生。也在这各自不同千奇百怪的人生中，每个人都能从其中攫取与自己心底所感的共鸣。

孤独或类似的东西，任何一种别人无法体会的情绪与感受，让我们每个人，独特而圆满。

另补：对这几篇小说稍觉遗憾之处的是，作者很执着地描绘了死亡，或是亲人，或是恋人，或是朋友。这多少让人觉得有些单调，而对作者构思故事的思路有所怀疑。但值得肯定的是，这几篇故事尽管过程显得非常灰暗，但结局都是阳光积极的。

第2篇：

这次英语专修的考察是看《Words from a father》，然后写读后感，其实翻译出来就是“爱在无声时”，记得在大三的时候，在某个专栏里，我已经看过中文版的了，在第一次看的时候，内心就有了一定的触动！然而，当再次看到英文版的时候，内心又一次澎湃了。。。

其实写读后感可以说是我们这些大学生寒暑假的专利了，因为每次放假，学校一定会布置类似读后感的作业！有时想不出题材的时候就凑上几篇读后感，大多是革命色彩的文章，例如方志敏怎样坚持敌后抗战。

然而这次，又看到这篇文章《Words from a father》，很感动，或许感动于这种生活态度，对生命，对自己的宽容——我有这种感觉也许是因为以前我的生活受到好多压迫。

文章主要是说一位二十三岁的儿子刚从大学毕业，与我们不同的是他要从美国家乡前往法国，学法语，还有感受另外一个国家的生活。

文章的作者，也就是爸爸在儿子远行前对儿子（Daniel）说的话是：

One day I told Daniel that the great failing in my life had been that I didn‘t take a year or two off to travel when I finished college.This is the best way, to my way of thinking, to broaden oneself and develop a larger perspective on life.Once I had married and begun working, I found that the dream of living in another culture had vanished.

翻译：有一天我告诉丹尼尔，至今我最大的遗憾就是我没有在大学毕业后的一两年里尽情地旅行。在我看来，这是开阔眼界、积累和观察生活的最好方式，但是当我一旦结婚和工作以后我发现生活在其他世界的梦想就破灭了。丹尼尔在临行前有很多担忧，他的朋友们认为他疯了。在朋友看来他的行为是很不寻常，因为他居然在毕业后在大学的饭馆里当服务生，快递员，刷墙漆的工人，然后用自己赚到的这些钱准备去法国，我想如果在中国的话绝大部分家长无法接受辛辛苦苦培养出来的大学生儿子居然这样去“糟蹋”自己的职业开端。然而这位爸爸却那么宽容，放手让儿子按照自己的方式去闯荡，对儿子有足够的信任，并且在他没有足够把握，在彷徨的时候居然还以常人不同的思维方式去支持他。

就像我的一个朋友在自己的第一份工作中他放弃了，并不是遇到什么困难，而是他想再次进入校园读书，他毅然决定放弃这份有成就的工作。开始我很难以理解，因为他的工作是可以的，待遇也不错，至少，他在工作上是付出很多的，而现在我却支持他的举动：做一些自己想做的事吧，哪怕很苦，哪怕赚的钱不到原来的三分之一，哪怕还要赔钱，那么只为最原先的梦。因为我们无法用钱去衡量一种经历的价值！

就在这次国庆回家，当我在思索自己的能力，想着毕业后自己的出路的时候，这时最受鼓励的是我的爸爸告诉我：“人生本来就是要走走停停，从小学到大学我们一路都没有停过，现在可以停一停啊。”我就是从那个时候开始备受启发的，多少有点像爸爸说的那样，其实完全可以不像传统的方式那样生活，为什么要像老一辈人那样毕业后就进一个“稳”到一眼望到五十岁退休的工作？为什么总想一次到位，安排好以后的一切？为什么毕业后理所当然地要把找对象，结婚提上日程？为什么??我知道身边有一大部分人因为这些“为什么”而困扰，并不知道答案只知道不由自主地会这样去遵循。

我们是不是太服从了？这半年，我渐渐学着给自己自由：尽管脸上有难看的痘痘，但还是要去森林公园烧烤；虽然花了好多血汗钱，还是要拍写真；周末去海底世界看看，去动物园走走，和朋友买衣服，品尝一些很贵但很特别的食物，明白了幸福是什么——自由，虽然这不是幸福的全部，但是没有自由绝不幸福。

原文：

Words From a Father

In the doorway of my home, I looked closely at the face of my 23-year-old son, Daniel, his backpack by his side.We were saying good-bye.In a few hours he would be flying to France.He would be staying there for at least a year to learn another language and experience life in a different country.

It was a transitional time in Daniel‘s life, a paage, a step from college into the adult world.I wanted to leave him some words that would have some meaning, some significance beyond the moment.

But nothing came from my lips.No sound broke the stillne of my beachside home.Outside, I could hear the shrill cries of sea gulls as they circled the ever changing surf on Long Island.Inside, I stood frozen and quiet, looking into the searching eyes of my son.

What made it more difficult was that I knew this was not the first time I had let such a moment pa.When Daniel was five, I took him to the

school-bus stop on his first day of kindergarten.I felt the tension in his hand holding mine as the bus turned the corner.I saw colour flush his cheeks as the bus pulled up.He looked at me-as he did now.

What is it going to be like, Dad? Can I do it? Will I be okay? And then he walked up the steps of the bus and disappeared inside.And the bus drove away.And I had said nothing.

A decade or so later, a similar scene played itself out.With his mother, I drove him to William and Mary College in Virginia.His first night, he went out with his new schoolmates, and when he met us the next morning, he was sick.He was coming down with mononucleosis, but we could not know that then.We thought he had a hangover.

In his room, Dan lay stretched out on his bed as I started to leave for the trip home.I tried to think of something to say to give him courage and confidence as he started this new phase of life.

Again, words failed me.I mumbled something like, "Hope you feel better Dan." And I left.

Now, as I stood before him, I thought of those lost opportunities.How many times have we all let such moments pa? A boy graduates from school, a daughter gets married.We go through the motions of the ceremony, but we don‘t seek out our children and find a quiet moment to tell them what they have meant to us.Or what they might expect to face in the years ahead.

How fast the years had paed.Daniel was born in New Orleans, LA., in 1962, slow to walk and talk, and small of stature.He was the tiniest in his cla, but he developed a warm, outgoing nature and was popular with his peers.He was coordinated and 6)agile, and he became adept in sports.

Baseball gave him his earliest challenge.He was an outstanding pitcher in Little League, and eventually, as a senior in high school, made the varsity, winning half the team‘s games with a record of five wins and two loes.At graduation, the coach named Daniel the team‘s most valuable player.

His finest hour, though, came at a school science fair.He entered an exhibit showing how the circulatory system works.It was primitive and crude, especially compared to the fancy, computerized, blinking-light models entered by other students.My wife, Sara, felt embarraed for him.

It turned out that the other kids had not done their own work-their parents had made their exhibits.As the judges went on their rounds, they found that these other kids couldn‘t answer their questions.Daniel answered every one.When the judges awarded the Albert Einstein Plaque for the best exhibit, they gave it to him.

By the time Daniel left for college he stood six feet tall and weighed 170 pounds.He was muscular and in superb condition, but he never pitched another inning, having given up baseball for English literature.I was sorry that he would not develop his athletic talent, but proud that he had made such a mature decision.

One day I told Daniel that the great failing in my life had been that I didn‘t take a year or two off to travel when I finished college.This is the best way, to my way of thinking, to broaden oneself and develop a larger perspective on life.Once I had married and begun working, I found that the dream of living in another culture had vanished.

Daniel thought about this.His friends said that he would be insane to put his career on hold.But he decided it wasn‘t so crazy.After

graduation, he worked as a waiter at college, a bike meenger and a house painter.With the money he earned, he had enough to go to Paris.

The night before he was to leave, I toed in bed.I was trying to figure out something to say.Nothing came to mind.Maybe, I thought, it wasn‘t neceary to say anything.

What does it matter in the course of a life-time if a father never tells a son what he really thinks of him? But as I stood before Daniel, I knew that it does matter.My father and I loved each other.Yet, I always regretted never hearing him put his feelings into words and never having the memory of that moment.Now, I could feel my palms sweat and my throat tighten.Why is it so hard to tell a son something from the heart? My mouth turned dry, and I knew I would be able to get out only a few words clearly.

“Daniel," I said, "if I could have picked, I would have picked you."

That‘s all I could say.I wasn‘t sure he understood what I meant.Then he came toward me and threw his arms around me.For a moment, the world and all its people vanished, and there was just Daniel and me in our home by the sea.

He was saying something, but my eyes misted over, and I couldn‘t

understand what he was saying.All I was aware of was the stubble on his chin as his face preed against mine.And then, the moment ended.I went to work, and Daniel left a few hours later with his girlfriend.

That was seven weeks ago, and I think about him when I walk along the beach on weekends.Thousands of miles away, somewhere out past the ocean waves breaking on the deserted shore, he might be scurrying acro Boulevard Saint Germain, strolling through a musty hallway of the Louvre, bending an elbow in a Left Bank café.

What I had said to Daniel was clumsy and trite.It was nothing.And yet, it was everything.