The doctor was silky and effete, and counted for little, but his opinion was endorsed by Mrs De Ropp, who counted for nearly everything.
Методические рекомендации для студентов 4 курса
УММ обсужден
на заседании кафедры
английского языка
«___»___________2011 г.
Зав. кафедрой: Н.Н. Шерстова
Составитель: ст. преподаватель кафедры
английского языка О.Л. Балова
Омск 2011
CONTENTS
Introduction ……………………………………………………………………………….……………………..3
Unit 1 Saki, SREDNI VASHTAR…………………………………………………………………….…………4
Unit 2 Mark Steven Hess, Where You Have Been, Where You Are Going……………………………….8
Unit 3 John Updike, THE ORPHANED SWIMMING POOL.………………………………………………13
Unit 4 Murray Bail, THE SILENCE…………………………………………………………….………………16
Unit 5 Ernest Hemingway, HILLS LIKE WHITE ELEPHANTS…………………………………………..20
Unit 6 Joyce Carol Oates, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN……………………………………………………24
Unit 7 Leslie Marmon Silko, YELLOW WOMAN……………………………………………………..……..29
Unit 8 Shirley Jackson, THE LOTTERY…………………………………………………………….…………35
Unit 9 Cynthia Ozick, THE SHAWL……………………………………………….………………………….40
Test on Analytical Reading …………………………………………………………………………………….43
Scheme on Analytical Reading ……………………………………………………….………………………..45
Clichés ……………………………………………………………………………………….……………………..47
The Authors ……………………………………………………………………………………….………………50
List of Literature ………………………………………………………………………………………………….53
INTRODUCTION
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TEXTS AND TASKS ON ANALITICAL READING brings imaginative texts and contains brillant examples of prose. The texts in this volume have been specially selected for advanced students of English as a foreign language, i. e. it is designed for Year IV students of the English department at the Institute of Foreign Languages. The stories have not been altered in any way, but can it is hoped be read easily and without frequent reference to a dictionary.
The volume is divided into 9 Units. Each Unit consists of tree main sections:
a) Text,
b) Glossary,
c) Questions.
The Questions are intended principally to develop study skills in relation to what has been read. In
particular they encourage students to reflect on themes and materials, to revise language and ideas, to identify key images or memorable sentences and to transfer them to other contexts. These are fundamental skills which the oral and written analyses constantly featuring in the questions accompanying the texts call for and promote. Analytical skills (The Scheme for Analysis and Clichés are supplied at the end of the volume), crucial to all post-reading activities, develop study and examination skills and contribute considerably to academic success.
Short stories, on account of their structure and comparative brevity, often provide a more fruitful basis for language study and discussion than any other form of fiction. They are particularly suitable for the study of English as a foreign language at an advanced level, and it is hoped that these stories give the student an opportunity to analyze carefully the living English used by contemporary authors.
I have chosen stories by some of the best known contemporary short story writers who write in English. In fact only John Updike and Ernest Hemingway of the authors represented here are not alive and actively writing today. I have tried to include a representative selection of British and American authors, but have also selected stories by an Australian, an Irish and a West Indian writer, as well as a writer who spent the early part of her life in Southern Africa, as they all constitute a vital part of the present wide range of short stories written in English. The aim is also to introduce these writers to the reader, in the hope of encouraging further reading of the same authors. I have tried to use stories which cover a wide variety of themes and styles of writing, and at the same time provide enjoyable and stimulating reading.
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At the end of this volume there is a brief biographical note on the author and a taste of what the particular story chosen is about.
As I have already mentioned, each text is followed by questions and topics for further discussion. These questions are not merely concerned with the factual contents of the stories, but rather it is hoped invite a sensitive response to the ideas the authors are trying to express. Some direct the reader's attention to the language itself, others towards a general appreciation of the content and how it might relate to the reader's own experience. Above all it is hoped that you will enjoy reading these stories and that they will encourage you to read further in English.
UNIT 1
Saki
Sredni Vashtar
Conradin was ten years old, and the doctor had pronounced his professional opinion that the boy would; not live another five years. The doctor was silky and effete, and counted for little, but his opinion was endorsed by Mrs De Ropp, who counted for nearly everything. Mrs De Ropp was Conradin's cousin and guardian, and in his eyes she represented those three-fifths of the world that are necessary and disagreeable and real; the other two-fifths, in perpetual antagonism to the foregoing, were summed up in himself' and his imagination. One of these days Conradin supposed he would succumb to the mastering pressure of wearisome necessary things—such as illnesses and coddling restrictions and drawn-out dullness. Without his imagination, which was rampant under the spur of loneliness, he would have succumbed long ago.
Mrs De Ropp would never, in her honestest moments, have confessed to herself that she disliked Conradin, though she might have been dimly aware that thwarting him 'for his good' was a duty which she did not find particularly irksome. Conradin hated her with a desperate sincerity which he was perfectly able to mask. Such few pleasures as he could contrive for himself gained an added relish from the likelihood that they would be displeasing to his guardian, and from the realm of his imagination she was locked out—an unclean thing, which should find no entrance.
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In the dull, cheerless garden, overlooked by so many windows that were ready to open with a message not to do this or that, or a reminder that medicines were due, he found little attraction. The few fruit-trees that it contained were set jealously apart from his plucking, as though they were rare specimens of their kind blooming in an arid waste; it would probably have been difficult to find a market-gardener who would have offered ten shillings for their entire yearly produce. In a forgotten corner, however, almost hidden behind a dismal shrubbery, was a disused tool-shed of respectable proportions, and within its walls Conradin found a haven, something that took on the varying aspects of a playroom and a cathedral. He had peopled it with a legion of familiar phantoms, evoked partly from fragments of history and partly from his own brain, but it also boasted two inmates of flesh and blood. In one corner lived a ragged-plumaged Houdan hen, on which the boy lavished an affection that had scarcely another outlet. Further back in the gloom stood a large hutch, divided into two compartments, one of which was fronted with close iron bars. This was the abode of a large polecat-ferret, which a friendly butcher-boy had once smuggled, cage and all, into its present quarters, in exchange for a long-secreted hoard of small silver. Conradin was dreadfully afraid of the lithe, sharp-fanged beast, but it was his most treasured possession. Its very presence in the, tool-shed was a secret and fearful joy, to be kept scrupulously from the knowledge of the Woman, as he privately dubbed his cousin. And one day, out of Heaven knows what material, he spun the beast a wonderful name, and from that moment it grew into a god and a religion. The Woman indulged in religion once a week at a church near by, and took Conradin with her, but to him the church service was an alien rite in the House of Rimmon. Every Thursday, in the dim and musty silence of the tool-shed, he worshipped with mystic and elaborate ceremonial before the wooden hutch where dwelt Sredni Vashtar, the great ferret. Red flowers in their season and scarlet berries in the winter-time were offered at his shrine, for he was a god who laid some special stress on the fierce impatient side of things, as opposed to the Woman's religion, which, as far as Conradin could observe, went to great lengths in the contrary direction. And on great festivals powdered nutmeg was strewn in front of his hutch, an important feature of the offering being that the nutmeg had to be stolen. These festivals were of irregular occurrence, and were chiefly appointed to celebrate some passing event. On one occasion, when Mrs De Ropp suffered from acute toothache for three days, Conradin kept up the festival during the enure three days, and almost succeeded in persuading himself that Sredni Vashtar was personally responsible for the toothache. If the malady had lasted for another day the supply of nutmeg would have given out.
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The Houdan hen was never drawn into the cult of Sredni Vashtar. Conradin had long ago settled that she was an Anabaptist. He did not pretend to have the remotest knowledge as to what an Anabaptist was, but he privately hoped that it was dashing and not very respectable. Mrs De Ropp was the ground plan on which he based and detested all respectability.
After a while Conradin's absorption in the tool-shed began to attract the notice of his guardian. 'It is not good for
him to be pottering down there in all weathers,' she promptly decided, and at breakfast one morning she announced that the Houdan hen had been sold and taken away overnight. With her short-sighted eyes she peered at Conradin, waiting for an outbreak of rage and sorrow, which she was ready to rebuke with a flow of excellent precepts and reasoning. But Conradin said nothing: there was nothing to be said. Something perhaps in his white set face gave her a momentary qualm, for at tea that afternoon there was toast on the table, a delicacy which she usually banned on the ground that it was bad for him; also because the making of it 'gave trouble', a deadly offence in the middle-class feminine eye.
'I thought you liked toast,' she exclaimed, with an injured air, observing that he did not touch it.
'Sometimes,' said Conradin.
In the shed that evening there was an innovation in the worship of the hutch-god. Conradin had been
wont to chant his praises, tonight he asked a boon.
'Do one thing for me, Sredni Vashtar.'
The thing was not specified. As Sredni Vashtar was a god he must be supposed to know. And choking
back a sob as he looked at that other empty corner, Conradin went back to the world he so hated.
And every night, in the welcome darkness of his bedroom, and every evening in the dusk of the tool-shed, Conradin's bitter litany went up: 'Do one thing for me, Sredni Vashtar.'
Mrs De Ropp noticed that the visits to the shed did not cease and one day she made a further journey of inspection.
'What are you keeping in that locked hutch?' she asked. ‘I believe it's guinea-pigs. I'll have them all cleared away.'
Conradin shut his lips tight, but the Woman ransacked his bedroom till she found the carefully hidden key, and forthwith marched down to the shed to complete her discovery. It was a cold afternoon, and Conradin had been bidden to keep to the house. From the furthest window of the dining-room the door of the shed could just be seen beyond the corner of the shrubbery, and there Conradin stationed himself. He saw the Woman enter, and then he imagined her opening the door of the sacred hutch and peering down with her short-sighted eyes into the thick straw bed where his god lay hidden. Perhaps she would prod at the straw in her clumsy impatience. And Conradin fervently breathed his prayer for the last time. But he knew as he prayed that he did not believe. He knew that the Woman would come out presently with that pursed smile be loathed so well on her face, and that in an hour or two the gardener would carry away his wonderful god, a god no longer, but a simple brown ferret in a hutch. And he knew that the Woman would triumph always as she triumphed now, and that he would grow ever more sickly under her pestering and domineering and superior wisdom, till one day nothing would matter much more with him, and the doctor would be proved right. And in the sting and misery of his defeat, he began to chant loudly and defiantly the hymn of his threatened idol:
‘Sredni Vashtar went forth,
His thoughts were red thoughts and his teeth were white.
His enemies called for peace, but he brought them death.
Sredni Vashiar the Beautiful.
And then of a sudden he stopped his chanting and drew closer to the window-pane. The door of the shed still stood ajar as it bad been left, and the minutes were slipping by. They were long minutes, but they slipped by nevertheless.
He watched the starlings running and flying in little parties across the lawn; he counted them over and over again, with one eye always on that swinging door. A sour-faced maid came in to lay the table for tea, and still Conradin stood and waited and watched. Hope had crept by inches into his bean, and now a look of triumph began to blaze in his eyes that had only known the wistful patience of defeat. Under his breath, with a furtive exultation, he began once again the paean of victory and devastation. And presently his eyes were rewarded: out through the doorway came a long, low, yellow-and-brown beast, with eyes a-blink at the waning daylight, and dark wet stains around the fur of jaws and throat. Conradin dropped on his knees. The great polecat-ferret made its way down to a small brook at the foot of the garden, drank for a moment, then crossed a little plank bridge and was lost to sight in the bushes. Such was the passing of Sredni Vashlar.
'Tea is ready,' said the sour-faced maid; 'where is the mistress?'
' She went down to the shed some time ago,' said Conradin.
And while the maid went to summon her mistress to tea, Conradin fished a toasting fork out of the sideboard drawer and proceeded to toast himself a piece of bread. And during the toasting of it and the buttering of it with much butter and the slow enjoyment of eating it, Conradin listened to the noises and silences which fell in quick spasms beyond the dining-room door. The loud foolish screaming of the maid, the answering chorus of wondering ejaculations from the kitchen region, the scuttering footsteps and hurried embassies for outside help, and then, after a lull, the scared sobbings and the shuffling tread of those who bore a heavy burden into the house.
' Whoever will break it to the poor child? I couldn't for the life of me!' exclaimed a shrill voice. And while they debated the matter among themselves, Conradin made himself another piece of toast.
GLOSSARY
to endorse – to approve, support, a claim, statement, etc.
rampant – luxuriant
to thwart – to obstruct
hutch – box or cage, esp one used for rsbbits
dismal – sad, gloomy, miserable
musty – stale, smelling or tasting mouldy
precept – moral instruction; rule or guide for behaviour
to ransack – to search (a place) thoroughly; to rob
furtive – done secretly so as not to attract attention
CONSULT the dictionary to find out the meaning of the following words:
silky and effete disagreeable the foregoing
weatisome to coddle drawn-out
irksome relish polecat-ferret
lithe to indulge in sharp-fanged
to prod at defiantly starling
QUESTIONS
1. What essencial details does the opening sentence reveal?
2. Specify characters – paticipants of the story. How far is the defference between the mistress and Conradin vivid? Speculate on the psycological architypes of both. Complete the table:
| Characteristics of Mrs De Ropp | Characteristics of Conradin |
| 1. | 1. |
| 2. | 2. |
| 3. | 3. |
| 4. | 4. |
| 5. | 5. |
3. What methods does the Woman use in her upbrining?
4. Describe in details the atmosphere and the place of Conradin’s rearing.
5. How did the idea of doing away with the mistress come into his mind?
6. What does Sredni Vashtar symbolize?
7. In what terms is the tool-shed depicted?
8. To your mind, is Conradin a unique child or, rather, a young offender?
9. Search for implications (Implication is the suggestion that is not expressed directly but understood. It may be conveyed by defferent techniques, such as parallelism, contrast, recurrence of events or situations, artistic details, arrangement of plot strucrure, etc.).
10. Are there stylistic and literary techniques in the story which make it highly readable, or difficult?
11. What can the reader infer—understand from what is suggested, rather than stated directly—from the following statements?
The doctor was silky and effete, and counted for little, but his opinion was endorsed by Mrs De Ropp, who counted for nearly everything.
2. Mrs De Ropp was Conradin's cousin and guardian, and in his eyes she represented those three-fifths of the world that are necessary and disagreeable and real; the other two-fifths, in perpetual antagonism to the foregoing, were summed up in himself' and his imagination.
3. One of these days Conradin supposed he would succumb to the mastering pressure of wearisome necessary things—such as illnesses and coddling restrictions and drawn-out dullness.
4. In the dull, cheerless garden, overlooked by so many windows that were ready to open with a message not to do this or that, or a reminder that medicines were due, he found little attraction.
5. With her short-sighted eyes she peered at Conradin, waiting for an outbreak of rage and sorrow, which she was ready to rebuke with a flow of excellent precepts and reasoning.
6. And every night, in the welcome darkness of his bedroom, and every evening in the dusk of the tool-shed, Conradin's bitter litany went up: 'Do one thing for me, Sredni Vashtar.'
And he knew that the Woman would triumph always as she triumphed now, and that he would grow ever more sickly under her pestering and domineering and superior wisdom, till one day nothing would matter much more with him, and the doctor would be proved right.
6. His thoughts were red thoughts and his teeth were white.
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