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接下来是BC自己写的那几段话：
Benedict Cumberbatch
The library
The Garrick Club, London
I was still at school when I first visited the Garrick Club and my father took me to the library. In my memory it always featured as an enormous room, very grand and impressive. Visiting it now, years later, it appears quite small – which in fact it is. It still retains, though, a particular aura, which I sensed on my first visit.
As an actor accustomed to reading scripts consisting generally of photocopied pages roughly bound together, it is an incredible luxury to be able to read those same scripts in beautiful editions, frequently very early ones, printed on heavy paper and in generous type. There is a special thrill in handling a book that might have been held by Irving, Forbes-Robertson or Beerbohm Tree, a thrill that is hard to convey to anyone outside the acting profession.
This place is an oasis of quiet: a stone’s throw from Charing Cross Road and the theatre district on one side, and from Covent Garden on the other. It is possible to sit here in silence, surrounded by volumes full of original playbills – Edmund Kean (referred to as ‘Mr’ Kean) in Richard III or Othello. It enables one to touch, as it were, the past of the magic world of theatre.
Benedict Cumberbatch
The library
The Garrick Club, London
I was still at school when I first visited the Garrick Club and my father took me to the library. In my memory it always featured as an enormous room, very grand and impressive. Visiting it now, years later, it appears quite small – which in fact it is. It still retains, though, a particular aura, which I sensed on my first visit.
As an actor accustomed to reading scripts consisting generally of photocopied pages roughly bound together, it is an incredible luxury to be able to read those same scripts in beautiful editions, frequently very early ones, printed on heavy paper and in generous type. There is a special thrill in handling a book that might have been held by Irving, Forbes-Robertson or Beerbohm Tree, a thrill that is hard to convey to anyone outside the acting profession.
This place is an oasis of quiet: a stone’s throw from Charing Cross Road and the theatre district on one side, and from Covent Garden on the other. It is possible to sit here in silence, surrounded by volumes full of original playbills – Edmund Kean (referred to as ‘Mr’ Kean) in Richard III or Othello. It enables one to touch, as it were, the past of the magic world of theatre.
