An Integrated English Course Book 3 - PowerPoint PPT Presentation

1 / 69
About This Presentation

An Integrated English Course Book 3


Title: PowerPoint Presentation Last modified by: Created Date: 1/1/1601 12:00:00 AM Document presentation format: Other titles – PowerPoint PPT presentation

Number of Views:285
Avg rating:3.0/5.0
Slides: 70
Provided by: hna53


Transcript and Presenter's Notes

Title: An Integrated English Course Book 3

An Integrated English Course Book 3
  • Unit Ten

Learning Objectives
  • By the end of this unit, you are supposed to
  • understand the main idea, structure of the text
    and the authors writing style
  • master the key language points and grammatical
    structures in the text
  • consider the different love of the mother and the

Teaching Procedure
  • Pre-reading Questions
  • Text I. The Wonderful Lousy Poems
  • ? Passage
  • ? Structural analysis
  • ? Main idea of the passage
  • ? Language points
  • ? sentence studies
  • ? vocabulary studies
  • Text II. Dad

Pre-reading Questions
  • 1. Have you ever tried to write a poem?

  • 2. How different is your father from your mother
    in their methods when they try to give you proper

Text I. The Wonderful Lousy Poems (abridged)
  • When I was eight or nine years old, I wrote my
    first poem.
  • At that time my father was a Hollywood tycoon,
    head of Paramount Studios. My mother was a
    founder and prime mover in various intellectual
    projects, helping to bring "culture" to the
    exuberant Hollywood community, of the 1920s.
  • My mother read the little poem and began to cry.
    "Buddy, you didn't really write this beautiful,
    beautiful poem!" Shyly, proud-bursting, I
    stammered that I had. My mother poured out her
    welcome praise. Why, this poem was nothing short
    of genius. She had no idea that I had such talent
    for writing. I must write more poems, keep on
    writing, perhaps someday even publish them.

  • I glowed. "What time will Father be home?" I
    asked. I could hardly wait to show him what I had
    accomplished. My mother said she hoped he would
    be home around 7. I spent the best part of that
    afternoon preparing for his arrival.  
  • First, I wrote the poem out in my finest
    flourish. Then I used colored crayons to draw an
    elaborate border around it that would do justice
    to its brilliant content. Then I waited. As 7
    o'clock drew near, I confidently placed it right
    on my father's plate on the dining-room table.
  • But my father did not return at 7. I rearranged
    the poem so it would appear at a slightly more
    advantageous angle on his plate. Seven-fifteen.
    Seven-thirty. The suspense was exquisite. I
    admired my father. He had begun his
    motion-picture career as a writer. He would be
    able to appreciate this wonderful poem of mine
    even more than my mother.
  • This evening it was almost 8 o'clock when my
    father burst in, and his mood seemed thunderous.
    He was an hour late for dinner, but he could not
    sit down. He circled the long dining-room table
    with a Scotch highball in his hand, calling down
    terrible oaths on his glamorous employees. I can
    see him now, a big Havana cigar in one hand, the
    rapidly disappearing highball in the other,
    crying out against the sad fates that had
    sentenced him to the cruel job of running a
    teeming Hollywood studio.

  • "Imagine, we would have finished the picture
    tonight," my father was shouting. "Instead that
    blank blank MORON, that blank blank BLANK
    suddenly gets it into her beautiful but empty
    little head that she can't play the last scene.
    So the whole company has to stand there at 1,000
    a minute while this silly little BLANK walks off
    the set! Now I have to go down to her beach house
    tonight and beg her to come back on Monday."
  • My father always paced determinedly as he ranted
    against the studio greats, and now as he wheeled
    he paused and glared at his plate. There was a
    suspenseful silence. He was reaching for my poem.
    I lowered my head and stared down into my plate.
    I was full of anxious daydreams. How wonderful it
    would be if this very first work of mine drove
    away the angry clouds that now darkened my
    important father's face!
  • "What is this?" I heard him say.

  • "Ben, Buddy has been waiting for you for hours,"
    my mother said. "A wonderful thing has happened.
    Buddy has written his first poem. And it's
    beautiful, absolutely amaz-
  • "If you don't mind, I'd like to decide that for
    myself," Father said.
  • Now was the moment of decision. I kept my face
    lowered to my plate. It could not have taken very
    long to read that poem. It was only 10 lines
    long. But it seemed to take hours. I remember
    wondering why it was taking so long. I could hear
    him dropping the poem back on the table again. I
    could not bear to look up for the verdict. But in
    a moment I was to hear it.
  • "I think it's lousy," my father said.
  • I couldn't look up. I was ashamed of my eyes
    getting wet.
  • "Ben, sometimes I don't understand you," my
    mother was saying. "This is just a little boy.
    You're not in your studio now. These are the
    first lines of poetry he's ever written. He needs

  • "I don't know why," my father held his ground.
    "Isn't there enough lousy poetry in the world
    already? I don't know any law that says Buddy has
    to become a poet."
  • I forget what my mother said. I wasn't hearing
    so well because it is hard to hear clearly when
    your head is making its own sounds of crying. On
    my left, she was saying soothing things to me and
    critical things of my father. But I clearly
    remember his self-defense "Look, I pay my best
    writers 2,000 a week. All afternoon I've been
    tearing apart their stuff. I only pay Buddy 50
    cents a week. And you're trying to tell me I
    don't have a right to tear apart his stuff if I
    think it's lousy!
  • That expressive vernacular adjective hit me over
    the heart like a hard fist. I couldn't stand it
    another second. I ran from the dining room
    bawling. I staggered up to my room and threw
    myself on the bed and sobbed. When I had cried
    the worst of the disappointment out of me, I
    could hear my parents still quarreling over my
    first poem at the dinner table.

  • That may have been the end of the anecdote but
    not of its significance for me.
  • A few years later I took a second look at that
    first poem, and reluctantly I had to agree with
    my father's harsh judgment. It was a pretty lousy
    poem. After a while, I worked up the courage to
    show him something new, a primitive short story
    written in what I fancied to be the dark Russian
    manner. My father thought it was overwritten but
    not hopeless. I was learning to rewrite. And my
    mother was learning that she could criticize me
    without crushing me. You might say we were all
    learning. I was going on 12.
  • But it wasn't until I was at work on my first
    novel, a dozen years later, that the true meaning
    of that painful "first poem" experience dawned on
    me. I had written a first chapter, but I didn't
    think it was good enough. I wanted to do it over.
    My editor, a wise hand who had counseled O'Neill
    and Sinclair Lewis and William Faulkner, told me
    not to worry, to keep on going, the first chapter
    was fine. Keep writing, just let it flow, it's
    wonderful, he encouraged me. Only when it was all
    finished and I was in a triumphant glow of
    achievement did he take me down a peg. "That
    chapter may be a little weak at that. If I were
    you, I'd look at it again." Now, on the crest of
    having written a novel, I could absorb a sharp
    critical blow.

  • As I worked my way into other books and plays and
    films, it became clearer and clearer to me how
    fortunate I had been to have had a mother who
    said, "Buddy, did you really write this I think
    it's wonderful!" and a father who shook his head
    no and drove me to tears with his, "I think it's
    lousy." A writer, in fact all of us in life,
    needs that mother force, the loving force from
    which all creation flows and yet the mother
    force alone is incomplete, even misleading,
    finally destructive, without the father force to
    caution, "Watch. Listen. Review. Improves."
  • Those conflicting but complementary voices of my
    childhood echo down through the years
    wonderful, lousy, wonderful, lousy like two
    powerful, opposing winds buffeting me. I try to
    navigate my little craft so as not to capsize
    before either. Between the two poles of
    affirmation and doubt, both in the name of love,
    I try to follow my true course.

Structural analysis
  • The text can be divided into three parts.
  • Part One (Paragraphs 1-6)
  • This is the introductory part of the text. Budd
    wrote his first poem which is hightly praised by
    his mother and was now expecting his fathers
    arrival in excitement, for he was sure his father
    would appreciate his wonderful poem more than his

  • Part Two (Paragraphs 7-20)
  • In this part, Budds father came home, and
    beyound his expectation, the poem was denounced
    as lousy.

  • Part Three (Para. 21-24)
  • In this last part, the author makes a comparison
    between the fathers love and the mothers love.
    He learns that although conflicting, they are
    complementary and in fact, both of them are
    indispensable to his growth.

  • Main Idea of the passage
  • The text is a story about the authors past
    experience. While narrating his past experience,
    the author presents to the reader a portrait of
    his father in work, and toward the end of the
    text, he makes a comment of two kinds of forces

Comprehension questions
  • 1. How did his father respond to Budds first
  • His mother's response was positive and
    affirmative. She poured out her welcome praise
    and cried that she had not expected that her son
    had such a talent for poetry writing. She
    encouraged the son to keep on writing.

  • 2. Why did Budd look forward to his fathers
  • His father was a Hollywood tycoon and began his
    career as a writer. Budd believed that his father
    would be able to discover his talent and
    appreciate his poem more than his mother did.

  • 3. How did his father respond to the poem?
  • Quite beyond his expectation, his father at first
    ignored his poem and then, when he did notice it
    and read it, he dropped the poem back and
    declared that it is "lousy," which hurt Budd

  • 4. which kind of love was importatn to Budds
    growth, the mothers love or the fathers love?
  • Both were important to Budd's growth. The
    mother's love was encouraging and inspiring. She
    encouraged Budd to keep on writing. The father's
    love was strict and stern. His principle in the
    education of the son was to "Watch. Listen.
    Review. Improve." These two kinds of love were
    indispensable in Budd's development. "I try to
    navigate my little craft so as not to capsize
    before either. " That is to say, both his
    mother's affirmation and his fatehrs doubt were
    in the name of love, and Budd followed the course
    between them.

Language points
  • exuberant
  • 1) (of people and their behavior) overflowing
    with life and cheerful excitement
  • His paintings were full of exuberant color.
  • 2) (of plants) growing strongly and plentifully
  • The exuberant grouth fo a tropical rain

  • glow
  • to give out heat and/or soft light without
    flames or smoke
  • the iron bar was heated until it glowed.
  • (with) to show redness and heat, esp. in the
    face, e.g., after hard work or because of strong
  • She was glowing with health and happiness.
  • She glowed with pride at her sons

  • elaborate full of detail carefully worked out
    and with a large number of parts
  • She made elaborate preparations for the
    party, and then no one came.
  • The curtains had an elaborate pattern of

  • do justice to to treat in a fair or proper way
    to geit the best result from
  • She cooked a delicious dinner, but we
    couldnt really do it justice because wed eaten
    too much already.
  • She didnt do herself justice in the exam.

  • circle
  • I) to move in a circle, especially in the air
    (about / around / round) (over somebody /
  • vultures circling (around) over a dead animal
  • 2) to move in or form a circle round (somebody /
  • The plane circled the airport before landing.
  • The moon circles the earth every 28 days.

  • oath
  • 1) (words used in making) a solemn promise to do
    something or solemn declaration that something is
    true (usually appealing to God, etc. as a
  • There is a standard form of oath used in law
  • 2) casual and improper use of the name of God,
    etc. to express anger, surpnse, etc.
  • swear-word
  • He hurled a few oaths at his wife and walked
    out, slamming the door.

  • glamorous attractive, charming, exciting
  • glamorous film stars
  • glamor attractive or exciting quality which
    somebody / something has, and which seems out of
    reach to others
  • hopeful young actors and actresses dazzled by
    the glamor of Hollywood
  • Now that she's an air hostess, foreign travel
    has lost its glamor for her.

  • sentence somebody (to something) to state that
    somebody is to have a certain punishment
  • He has been sentenced to three years in
  • (figurative) a crippling disease which
    sentenced him to a lifetime in a wheelchair

  • blank
  • I) without writing or print unmarked a blank
    sheet of paper a blank page
  • 2) without expression, understanding or
    interest empty
  • a blank expression / face / gaze
  • He looked blank. ( He is puzzled. )
  • Her questions drew blank looks all around. (
    No one seemed to know how to answer them. )
  • 3) (attributive) totalabsolute
  • a blank denial/refusal

  • rantto speak loudly, violently or theatrically
  • He ranted (on) at me about my mistakes.

  • wheel
  • 1) to push or pull (a vehicle with wheels)
  • wheel a barrow (along the street)
  • 2) to move in a curve or circle
  • birds wheeling about in the sky above us Left
    / Right

  • glare n.
  • 1) strong unpleasant dazzling light avoid the
    glare of the sun, of car headlights, etc.
  • 2) angry or fierce look fixed look give
    somebody a hostile
  • glare v.
  • 1) to shine with a dazzling, unpleasant light
  • The searchlight glared, illuminating the
    prison yard.
  • 2) to stare angrily or fiercely (at somebody /
  • He didn't shout or swear, but just glared
    silently at me.

  • hold one's ground to maintain one's claim,
    intention, argument, etc. not to yield or give
  • The speaker calmly held his ground in the
    face of angry opposition.
  • She held her ground in spite of all the

  • tear apart to destroy or defeat something
    completely to criticize something harshly ms
  • The civil war tore the country apart.
  • Will his absence tear the whole project

  • work up
  • 1) to develop or improve something gradually
    work up a business
  • 2) to increase something in numbers or strength
    working up the support for the party

  • crush
  • 1) to press or squeeze (somebody / something) so
    hard that it breaks or is damaged
  • Several people were crushed to death by the
    faIling rocks.
  • 2) to break something hard into small pieces or
    into powder by pressing
  • Huge hammers crush (up) the rocks.
  • 3) to defeat (somebody / something) completely
    to subdue
  • The rebeIlion was crushed by government
  • He felt completely crushed by her last remark.

  • dawn on to gradually become clear to one's mind
    to become evident to somebody
  • It finally dawned on me that he had been
  • The truth began to dawn on him.

  • counsel
  • 1) to give professional advice to (somebody with
    a problem)
  • a psychiatrist who counsels alcoholics
  • 2) to give (the stated advice)
  • I would counsel caution in such a case.
  • 3) to advise
  • He counseled them to give up the plan.

  • take/bring somebody down a peg to make (a proud
    or conceited person) more humble
  • The arrogant film star needs/wants taking
    down a peg or two.

  • on the crest of at the point of great success,
    happiness, etc.
  • After its election victory, the party was on
    the crest of a wave.

  • echo
  • 1) (of places) to send (something) back
  • The valley echoed back his song.
  • 2) (figurative) (of people, places, etc. ) to
    repeat something to imitate to recall
  • They echoed their leader's every word.
  • 3) (of places) to repeat a sound (to / with
  • The hills echoed to the sound of laughter.

  • buffet to knock or push somebody / something
    roughly from side to side
  • flowers buffeted by the rain and wind
  • a boat buffeted (about) by the waves

  • navigate
  • 1) to find the position and plot the course of a
    ship, an aircraft, a car etc. , using maps and
  • Which officer in the ship navigates?
  • 2) to steer (a ship) to pilot (an aircraft)
  • navigate the tanker around the Cape
  • 3) to sail along, over or through (a sea, river,
    etc. )
  • Who first navigated the Atlantic?

  • capsize to (cause a boat to) overturn or be
  • The boat capsized in heavy seas.
  • Huge waves can capsize the ship.

Text II. Dad Andrew H. Malcolm
  • The first memory I have of him - of anything,
    really - is his strel was in the late afternoon
    in a house under construction near ours. The
    unfinished wood floor had large, terrifying holes
    whose yawning darkness I knew led where good. His
    powerful hands, then age 33, wrapped all the way
    around my tiny arms, then age 4, and easily swung
    me up to his shoulders to command all I surveyed.
  • The relationship between a son and his father
    changes over time. It may grow and flourish in
    mutual maturity. It may sour in resented
    dependence or independence. With many children
    living in single-parent homes today, it may not
    even exist.
  • But to a little boy right after World War II, a
    father seemed a god with strange strengths and
    uncanny powers enabling him to do and know things
    that no mortal could do or know. Amazing things,
    like putting a

  • bicycle chain back on, just like that. Or
    building a hamsterl cage. Or guiding a jigsaw so
    it formed the letter F I learned the alphabet
    that way in those pre-television days, one letter
    or number every other evening plus a review of
    the collection. (The vowel we painted red because
    they were special somehow. )
  • He even seemed to know what I thought before I
    did. "you look like you could use a cheeseburger
    and chocolate shake, " he would say on hot Sunday
    afternoons. When, at the age of 5, I broke a
    neighbor's garage window with a wild curve bal1
    and waited in fear for 10 days to IIlake the
    mnouncement, he seemed to know about it already
    and to have been waiting for something.
  • There were, of course, rules to learn. First came
    the handshake. None of those fishy little finger
    grips, but a good firm squeeze accompanied by an
    equally strong gaze into the other's eyes. "The
    first thing anyone knows about you is your
    handshake," he would say. And we'd practice it
    each night on his return from work, the serious
    toddler in the battered Cleveland Indians cap
    running up to the giant father to shake hands
    again and again until it was firm enough.

  • When my cat killed a bird, he defused the anger
    of a 9-year-old with a little chat about
    something called "instinked. " The next year,
    when my dog got run over and the weight of sorrow
    was just too immense to stand, he was there, too,
    with his big arms and his own tears and some
    thoughts on the natural order of life and death,
    although what was natural about a speeding car
    that didn't stop always escaped me.
  • As time passed, there were other rules to learn.
    "Always do your best. " "Do it now." "NEVER LIE!"
    And most importantly, "You can do whatever you
    have to do. " By my teens, he wasn't telling me
    what to do anymore, which was scary and heady at
    the same time. He provided perspective, not
    telling me what was around the great comer of
    life but letting me know there was a lot more
    than just today and the next, which I hadn't
    thought of.
  • When the most important girl in the world I
    forget her name now turned down a movie date,
    he just happened to walk by the kitchen phone.
    "This may be hard to believe right now," he said,
    "but someday you won't even remember her name.

  • One day, I realize now, there was a change. I
    wasn't trying to please hirr much as I was trying
    to impress him. I never asked him to come to my
    foot games. He had a high-pressure career, and it
    meant driving through most of Fri night. But for
    all the big games, when I looked over at the
    sideline, there was that familiar fedora. And, by
    God, did the opposing team captain ever get a
    firm ha shake and a gaze he would remember.
  • Then, a school fact contradicted something he
    said. Impossible that he cc be wrong, but there
    it was in the book. These accumulated over time,
    along with personal experiences, to buttress my
    own developing sense of values. And I could tell
    we had each taken our own, perfectly normal
  • I began to see, too, his blind spot, his
    prejudices and his weakness. I never threw these
    up at him. He hadn't to me, and, anyway, he
    seemed to need pm tion. I stopped asking his
    advice the experiences he drew from no longer
    seer relevant to the decisions I had to make. On
    the phone, he would go on about p tics at times,
    why he would vote the way he did or why some
    incumbent was a jerk. And I would roll my eyes to
    the ceiling and smile a little, though I hid it
    in my voice.

  • He volunteered advice for a while. But then, in
    more recent years, politics and issues gave way
    to talk of empty errands and, always, to ailments
    friends', my mother's and his own, which were
    serious and included heart disea He had a bedside
    oxygen tank, and he would ostentatiously retire
    there during visits, asking my help in easing his
    body onto the mattress. " You have very strong
    arms," he once noted.
  • From his bed, he showed me the many sores and
    scars on his misshapen body and all the bottles
    for medicine. He talked of the pain and craved
    much sympathy. He got some. But the scene was not
    attractive. He told me, as the doctor had. 1 his
    condition would only deteriorate. "Sometimes," he
    confided, "I would like to lie down and go to
    sleep and not wake up. "
  • After much thought and practice ("You can do
    whatever you have to do.), one night last
    winter, I sat down by his bed and remembered for
    an instant th terrifying dark holes in another
    house 35 years before. I told my father how much
    I loved him. I described all the things people
    were doing for him. But, I said, hekept eating
    poorly, hiding in his room and violating other
    doctors' orders. No amount of love could make
    someone else care about life, I said it was a
    two-way street. He wasn't doing his best. The
    decision was his.

  • He said he knew how hard my words had been to say
    and how proud he was of me. "I had the best
    teacher," I said. "You can do whatever you have
    to do. " He smiled a little. And we shook hands,
    firmly, for the last time.
  • Several days later, at about 4 a. m. , my mother
    heard Dad shuffling about their dark room. "I
    have something I have to do," he said. He paid a
    bundle of bills. He composed for my mother a long
    list of legal and financial what-to-do's "in case
    of emergency. " And he wrote me a note.
  • Then he walked back to his bed and laid himself
    down. He went to sleep, naturally. And he did not
    wake up.
  • 1 ,189 words

Main idea of Text II
  • The author tells something between his father and
    him. Through his discription, we can see his
    fathers great influence on him and the
    development and change of his feelings towards
    his father. Also the readers can feel the strong
    love and attachment between the father and the

Topics for discussion
  • 1. Is it still important today for a man to
    display a firm handshake and a steady gaze into
    someones eyes? When would these gestures be most
  • These gestures seem not to be as important today
    as it was in wartime. But anyway, we need a firm
    handshake and a steady gaze under certain
    occasions, for example, when we are in trouble aT
    when we lack some kind of confidence. At this
    moment, a handshake, a gaze or a few words of
    encouragement will inspire us and urge us to
    overcome difficulties and go forward. In the same
    way, when other people are in trouble or meet
    some obstacles, a firm handshake and a steady
    gaze from us will also establish their courage
    and help them pull through difficulties.

  • 2. How do you feel about Malcolns father crying
    with his son when the boys dog was killed?
  • A strong man as he was, Malcolm's father cried
    when the boy's dog was killed. For one thing,
    Malcolm's sorrow was too immense to stand. In
    order to comfort him and help him get over the
    sorrow, his father was there, with the son, and
    with tears in his eyes. His father was not as
    cool-blooded as what had been thought of. He was
    a person full of feelings and sympathies. For the
    other, his father thought of the natural order of
    life and death. The dog's unexpected death
    indiCates the unpredictability of life and death.

  • 3. As you grew up, when did you shift from trying
    to please a parent to trying to impress that
  • Children under ten years old will naturally
    please a parent with their ignorance and naivety.
    They are simple and artless, and often amuse
    their parents with funny words or behaviors. By
    the teens, they seldom want to please a parent
    with childish behaviors, but want to tell the
    parents that they are mature, not only physically
    but also mentally. They feel that they have grown
    up, and that they can do what parents can do.
    They want to impress their parents with what they
    have done. They hope that their parents will be
    proud of them. This question is open for
    discussion. Different students may have different
    responses to this question according to their own
    experiences. Teachers can ask the students to
    give specific examples to show that they are
    trying to impress their parents.

  • 4. How well can a person younger than forty (
    Malcolms age ) understand the problems involved
    in a parents afing and dying?
  • A person younger than forty may not have such a
    deep but sober-minded understanding as Malcolm
    has. Young people take it for granted that their
    parents will look after them all their lives, and
    will provide them with food, clothing and
    shelter. They hardly think of the fact that their
    parents will become old and one day one of them
    will die. This question is open for discussion.

  • Words and Expressions for Text I
  • lousya. (informal) very bad, unpleasant,
    useless covered with lice
  • tycoonn. a businessman or industrialist with
    great wealth and power
  • exuberanta. (of people and their behavior)
    overflowing with life and cheerful excitement
    (of plants) growing strongly and plentifully
  • proud-burstinga. full of pride with overflowing

  • stammerv. to speak or say with pauses and
    repeated sounds, either habitually or because of
    excitement, fear, etc.
  • glowv. to give out heat and / or soft light
    without flames or smoke to show redness and
    heat, especially in the face, e.g., after hard
    work or because of strong feelings
  • flourishn. a showy movement or manner that draws
    people's attention to somebody
  • crayonn. a stick of colored wax or chalk used
    for writing or drawing, especially on paper
  • suspensen. a state of uncertainty about
    something that is undecided or not yet known,
    causing either anxiety or sometimes pleasant

  • exquisitea. very finely made or done extremely
    beautiful or skillful (of power to feel)
    sensitive and delicate
  • highballn. an alcoholic drink, especially
    whiskey or brandy mixed with water or soda and
    served with ice
  • oathn. a solemn promise an expression of strong
    feeling using religious or sexual words
  • rantv. (usually derogative) to talk in a loud,
    uncontrolled way, using grand but meaningless

  • verdictn. the official decision made by a jury
    in a court of law at the end of a trial,
    especially about whether the prisoner is guilty
    or not guilty (informal) a statement of opinion
    judgment or decision given on any matter
  • soothev. to make less angry, excited, or
    anxious to comfort or calm to make less painful
  • vernacularn. the language spoken in a country or
    region, especially as compared with the official
  • bawlv. to shout in a loud rough voice to cry

  • staggerv. to walk or move unsteadily and with
    great difficulty, almost falling
  • anecdoten. a short interesting or amusing story
    about a person or event
  • dawnv. to begin to be perceived or understood
  • counselv. (formal) to advise as a suitable
    course of action to give advice and support
    (especially somebody experiencing difficulty)

  • triumphanta. victorious or successful taking
    great pride and joy in one's success or victory
  • pegn. a short piece of wood, metal, etc.,
    usually thinner at one end than at the other,
    used for fastening things, hanging things on,
  • crestn. a showy growth of feathers on top of a
    bird's head the top or highest point of
    something, especially of a hill or a wave

  • buffetv. to strike forcefully or repeatedly
  • navigatev. to direct the course of (a ship,
    plane, etc.) to go by sea, air, etc. from one
    side to the other (of a place)
  • capsizev. (especially of a boat) to turn over

  • Notes for Text I
  • 1. About the author and the text Budd Schulberg
    (1914 - ), American novelist, short story writer,
    screen writer, and contributor to major national
    magazines, is the author of What Makes Sammy Run
    (1941) , The Disenchanted (1950) , and On the
    Waterfront (1954). The son of "a Hollywood
    tycoon," Schulberg invests the above
    auto-biographical account with the drama of film
    community life in the 1920s, even as he finds in
    a childhood crisis the sources of the creative

  • 2.My mother was a founder and prime mover in
    various intellectual projects... (Paragraph 2)
    My mother was one of those who engaged in the
    establishment of various intellectual projects,
    and she had great influence in the development of
    these projects. Here, "prime mover" refers to a
    person or thing that has great influence in the
    development of something important.

  • 3. Why. this poem was nothing short of genius.
    (Paragraph 3) Oh, this poem showed that you had
    talent for being a poet. Here, "nothing short of"
    is used to add force to a statement, meaning
    "nothing less than," "as good as.
  • 4. ... my father held his ground. (Paragraph 17)
    ... my father maintained his argument he
    insisted that my poem was "lousy. "
  • 5. that she could criticize me without crushing
    me. (Paragraph 21) ... that she could judge my
    poem with disapproval and point out its faults,
    but not discourage me and destroy me.

  • Notes for Text II
  • 1. about the author Andrew H. Malcolm was born
    in 1943 in Cleveland, Ohio. He studied journalism
    at Northwestern University and then joined The
    New York Times in 1967 as a news clerk. He worked
    as a reporter for The New York Times in New York,
    Chicago, and San Francisco and as a foreign
    correspondent for the newspaper in the Far East
    and Toronto before being assigned to Chicago as
    bureau chief in 1982. He has won major awards for
    reporting, and is the author of Unknown America,
    published in 1975.

  • 2. It may grow and flourish in mutual maturity.
    It may sour in resented dependence or
    independ"nee. (Paragraph 2) The relationship
    between a son and his father will be getting
    better upon their mutual understanding and
    tolerance. But if their dependence on each other
    or independence of each other develops hatred or
    indignation between them, the relationship
    between the father and the son may be destroyed.
  • 3. hamster (Paragraph 3) ??

  • 4. None of those fishy little finger grips, but a
    good firm squeeze accompanied by an equally
    strong gaze into the other's eyes. (Paragraph.S)
    In handshaking, father did not grip a person's
    hand with his fingers that were expressionless,
    but squeezed a person's hand firmly, with his
    eyes looking at the other steadily and strongly.
  • 5. I wasn't trying to please him so much as I was
    trying to impress him. (Paragraph 9) When I was
    getting old, I was trying to leave him a strong
    impression by what I had done I was trying to do
    something so as to have my father proud of me and
    of what I did. I no longer did some childish or
    naive mischief to please him.

  • 6. ... or why some incumbent was a jerk.
    (Paragraph 11) ... he explained to me why he
    thought the person in power was a foolish and
    incapable one.
  • 7. No amount of love could make someone else care
    about life, 1 said it was a two-way street. (
    Paragraph 14) No matter how much I love you, my
    father, no one but you can take care of yourself.
    If you do not take good care of yourself and make
    your life more comfortable in a healthy way, it
    amounts to nothing even if I try to change your
    way of life unilaterally. You should also make
    efforts to change your way of life.
Write a Comment
User Comments (0)