Unit 3. Love, Engagement, Marriage

F. Scott Fitzgerald. The Bridal Party........................................ 44

 

Unit 4. Family Matters

Evelyn Waugh. Winner Takes All.............................................. 61

 

Unit 5. Travelling

RobertJ.Dixon. I just Love to Travel by Plane....................... 79

 

Unit 6. Health and Medicine

J. K. Jerome. Three Men in a Boat (to Say Nothing of the Dog) 97

 

Unit 7. Clothes

O. Henry. The Purple Dress...................................................... 113

 

Unit 8. Portraiture in Fiction and Visual Arts

I. Stone. The Agony and the Ecstasy. A Biographical Novel of Michelangelo.................................................................................. 131

Appendices................................................................................ 151

 

 

 

 

ПРЕДИСЛОВИЕ

Учебное пособие создано на кафедре английского языка РГПУ им. А. И. Герцена  и апробировано на втором курсе английского отделения факультета иностранных языков в 1999–2002 годах.

Пособие отвечает требованиям программы Министерства образования и науки Российской Федерации и адресовано студентам второго курса факультетов и институтов иностранных языков, а также всем, изучающим английский язык на продвинутом этапе.

Задачей пособия является дальнейшее развитие навыков и умений в различных видах речевой деятельности и выработка умений вдумчивого прочтения и анализа художественного текста. В качестве материала использованы неадаптированные произведения английской и американской литературы — отрывки из романов или рассказы в сокращении. Расчет часов предлагается исходя из 2 часов в неделю, по 8 часов на каждый из восьми уроков данного пособия: 1) Training for a Career; 2) Jobs and Careers; 3) Love and Engagement; 4) Family Matters; 5) Travelling; 6) Health. Medicine; 7) Clothes; 8) Portraiture in Fiction and Visual Arts.

Структура каждого урока, тематически связанного с разговорной темой, изучаемой параллельно на занятиях по устной практике, включает: 1) краткую справку об авторе текста; 2) текст; 3) комментарий; 4) систему упражнений и заданий.

Упражнения фонетического характера нацелены на фонетическую отработку лексического материала каждого урока. Упражнения на словообразование, употребление артиклей, предлогов и послелогов призваны закрепить и активизировать грамматический материал, встречающийся в текстах.

Главная задача пособия — формирование у студентов навыков и умений анализа англоязычного художественного текста, а также говорения на основе активизации лексического материала второго курса. Переход вузов на четырехгодичное обучение в системе бакалавриата обусловил необходимость обращения к художественному тексту не только как к средству обучения, но и как к объекту исследования уже на втором курсе, что нашло отражение в утвержденной программе.

Упражнения блока «Vocabulary Development» ориентированы на подготовительную работу (practice activities) на уровне слова, словосочетания, предложения; особое место здесь занимают задания на парафраз. Коммуникативные упражнения (communicative activities) в разделе «Discussion» сопряжены с заданиями по анализу текста.

Контроль сформированности умений в различных видах речевой деятельности обеспечивается такими заданиями, как составление диалогов и монологических высказываний, описание картинок, обсуждение образов персонажей, детальный пересказ текстов и их анализ.

Упражнения в разделе «Translating. Written Tasks» нацелены на формирование у студентов практических навыков перевода и совершенствование навыков письма на лексико-тематическом материале, утвержденном программой для второго курса. Нумерация заданий не подразумевает строгой последовательности их выполнения.

Автор выражает искреннюю благодарность:

‒ коллегам — преподавателям кафедры английского языка, участвовавшим в апробации пособия;

‒ преподавателям кафедры фонетики и лаборатории устной речи, оказавшим помощь в процессе работы;

‒ студентам, обучавшимся по данному пособию на втором курсе английского отделения в 2001–2015 годах;

‒ всем коллегам и сотрудникам, способствовавшим его созданию, публикации и переизданию.

 

 

UNIT 1

 

TRAINING FOR A CAREER

 

R. Gordon. Doctor in the House

Richard Gordon is a contemporary British author. He was born in 1921. He was an anaesthetist at St Bartholomew’s Hospital, a ship’s surgeon and an assistant editor of the “British Medical Journal”. R. Gordon left medical practice in 1952 and started writing his “Doctor” series. His twelve “Doctor” books have been made into films which enjoy worldwide success: “Doctor at Sea”, “Doctor in Love”, “Doctor and Son”, “Doctor in the Nude”, “Doctor in the Swim”, “doctor on the Brain”, “Doctor on Toast” and others.

 

Pre-reading tasks

 

I. Pronounce the proper names:

Richard Gordon ['rɪtʃəd 'ɡɔ:dn]

United Hospitals Committee [kə'mɪtɪ]

Harley Street ['hɑ:lɪ]

Old Bailey [əʊld 'beɪlɪ]

St. Swithin’s [snt'swɪðɪnz]

Molly Dirton ['mɔlɪ 'də:tn]

Benskin ['benskɪn]

Grimsdyke ['ɡrɪmzdaɪk]

Dr Malcolm Maxworth ['mælkəm 'mækswə:Ѳ]

 

II. Match the words with their definitions:

 

1. ragamuffin   2. cheat   3. ophthalmoscope   4. blackjack

a. a strong blow, a kick   b. an instrument for inspecting eyes   c. to lie or behave dishonestly in order to get or achieve smth   d. someone clothed in rags

D octor in the House

(an extract; abridged)

 

To a medical student the final examinations are something like death — an unpleasant inevitability to be faced sooner or later. The examinations of the United Hospitals Committee are held twice a year in a large gloomy building near Harley Street. Three or four hundred students arrive from every hospital in London and from every medical school in the United Kingdom. Any country that accepts a British qualification is represented.

An examination is nothing more than an investigation of a man’s knowledge conducted in a way that the authorities have found to be the most convenient to both sides. But the medical student cannot see it in this light. For him examinations are a straight contest between himself and the examiners, conducted on well-established rules for both, and he goes at them like a professional boxer goes to a ring.

The examination is divided into three sections, each one of which must be passed separately. First there are the written papers, then viva voce examinations¹ and finally the clinical, when the student is given a patient and asked to turn in a competent diagnosis in half an hour.

I went with a hundred other students into one of three large, square halls used for the examination. The polished wooden floor was covered with rows of desks set at a distance from each other that made it impossible to read one’s neighbour’s writing.

A single examiner sat in his gown and hood on a raised platform to keep an eye open for flagrant cheating. He was helped by two or three uniformed porters who stood by the doors and looked dispassionately down at the poor victims, like the policemen that flank the dock at the Old Bailey².

The first paper was on general medicine. The upper half of the sheet was taken up with instructions in bold print telling the candidates to write on one side of the paper only, answer all the questions and to refrain from cribbing at peril of being thrown out.

With a beating heart I read the four questions beneath. I saw at once that they were all short and tricky.

Three hours were allowed for the paper. The invigilator tapped his bell half an hour before time; the last question was rushed through, then the porters began tearing papers away from gentlemen who hoped by an incomplete sentence to give the examiners the impression that they could say much more on the question than they had written.

The oral examination was held a week after the papers. I got a white card, like an invitation to a cocktail party, requesting my presence at the examination building by eleven-thirty.

It is the physical contact with the examiners that makes oral examinations so unpopular with the students. The written answers have a certain remoteness about them, and mistakes, like those of life, can be made without the threat of immediate punishment. But the viva is judgement day. If the candidate looses his nerve he is finished.

The room was the one we had written the papers in but it was now empty except for a double row of tables separated by screens. At each of the tables sat two examiners and a student who carried on a low earnest conversation with them, like a confession.

The examiner showed me a small glass pot from a pathology museum, in which a piece of meat like the remains of a Sunday dinner floated in spirit.

“What’s that?” he asked.

I picked up the bottle and examined it carefully. By now I knew the technique for pathological specimens of this kind. The first thing to do was turn them upside down as their identity was often to be found on a label on the bottom. I upturned it and was disappointed to find that the label had been removed. I couldn’t therefore find help from the bottle and I turned it back.

“Liver,” I tried.

“What!” exclaimed the surprised man. The other examiner slammed down his pencil in disgust and glared at me.

“I mean lung,” I corrected.

“That’s better. What’s wrong with it?”

I didn’t know so I tried to guess again. “Pneumonia. Stage of white hepatization.”

The surprised man nodded. “How do you test diphtheria serum?”

“I will inject it into a guinea pig, sir.”

“Yes, but you must have an animal of a standard weight...?”

“Oh, yes… a hundred kilograms.”

The two men collapsed into roars of laughter.

“It would be as big as a policeman, you fool!” shouted the first examiner.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I mumbled miserably. “I mean a hundred milligrams.”

The laughter was renewed. One or two of the examiners at nearby tables looked up with interest. The other candidates felt like prisoners in the condemned block³ when they hear the bolt go in the execution shed.

“You could hardly see it then, boy,” said the second examiner wiping his eyes. “The animal weighs a hundred grams. However, we will leave the subject.”

 

The days after the viva were black ones. It was like having a severe accident. One or two of my friends heartened me by describing equally depressing experiences they had had previously that still allowed them to pass. I began to hope. After all, I thought, I correctly identified the specimen… Then I forgot about it in my anxiety over the last section of the examination, the clinical.

The clinical is probably the most chancy of the three parts. The student may be given a simple case with sounds in the chest that come loudly through his stethoscope or he may get something devilish tricky.

I was directed to a pleasant little examiner.

“Hello, my boy,” he began genially. “Where are you from? Swit­hin’s⁴, eh? When are you chaps going to win the rugby cup? Go and amuse yourself with that nice lady in the corner and I’ll be back in twenty minutes.”

She was indeed a nice young lady. A redhead with a figure out of a fashion journal.

“Good morning,” I said with a professional smile.

“Good morning,” she returned brightly.

“Will you tell me your name?” I asked politely.

“Certainly. Molly Dirton, I’m unmarried, aged twenty-two and my work is shorthand-typing, which I have been doing for four years.”

My heart glowed: she knew the form.

“How long have you been coming up here?” I asked. “You seem to know all the answers.”

“Oh, years and years. I bet I know more about myself than you do.”

Just the thing!⁵ There is a golden rule for clinical examinations — ask the patient. They attend the examination for so many years and hear themselves discussed so often with the candidates, they know all medical terms. All I had to do was play my cards correctly. I talked to her about the advantages of living in the country; of shorthand-typing and its effects on the finger-nails; of her boyfriends and her prospects of matrimony; of the weather and where she went for the holidays.

“By the way,” I said with careful casualness, “what’s wrong with you?”

“Oh, I’ve mitral stenosis due to rheumatic fever but I am perfectly well compensated and I have a favourable prognosis. There is a systolic murmur at the apex, but the aorta is clear and there is no stenosis. By the way, my thyroid is slightly enlarged, they like you to notice that. I have no fibrillation and I’m having no treatment.”

“Thank you very much,” I said.

The examiner was delighted when I passed on to him the patient’s accurate diagnosis as my own.

“Very good, very good!” he nodded. “Spotted the thyroid, too… I’m glad some of you young fellers use your powers of observation. I’ve been telling my own students for years — observe, observe, observe. But they never do. Right you are, my lad. Now just take this ophthalmoscope and tell me what you can see in that old woman’s eye.”

My heart which had been soaring like a swallow, took a sharp dive to earth. The examiner handed me the little black instrument with lenses for looking into the eye. I had often seen it used in the wards but I never seemed to find time to learn how to employ it. My hand shook as I took the instrument. Slowly I put it closely between my eye and the patient. All I could see was something that looked like a dirty tank in an aquarium with a large, dim fish in it. The time had come for quick thinking. Looking intently through the instrument I let out a long whistle of amazement.

“Yes, it is a big retinal detachment, isn’t it?” the examiner said happily, taking away the ophthalmoscope and patting me on the back. I saw myself marked over the pass number⁶ and with a grateful smile at the redhead ran downstairs in elation.

In the hall I met Benskin. He was looking profoundly miserable.

“What’s up?” I asked anxiously.

Benskin shook his head and explained in a chocked voice what had happened. While I was examining medical cases he had been questioned in practical midwifery. One of the tests for prospective obstetricians was provided by a life-size papier-mâché model of half the female trunk, into which was slipped a straw-stuffed baby. The candidate was then provided with a pair of obstetrical forceps and required to deliver it per via naturalis⁷. This was demanded of Benskin. He carefully applied the forceps to the head, locked the handle and gave a strong pull. Nothing happened. He pulled harder but the straw foetus refused to be born. He felt sweat on his brow and his mouth got dry; he saw his chances of passing fading like a spent match. He gave a desperate heave. His feet slipped on the polished floor and over his head flew mother, baby, forceps and all.

The examiner looked at him lying on the floor for a second in silence. Then he picked up one blade of the forceps and handed it to him.

“Now hit the father with that,” he said sourly, “and you’ll have killed the whole bloody family.”

 

Three days later at noon we arrived in the examination building. We knew exactly what would happen. At midday precisely the Secretary of the Committee would descend the stairs and take his place, accompanied by two uniformed porters, on the lowest step. Under his arm would be a thick leather-covered book containing the results. One of the porters would carry a list of candidates’ numbers and call them out, one after the other. The candidates would step up to the Secretary, who would say simply “Pass” or “Failed”. Successful men would go upstairs to receive the congratulations and handshakes of the examiners, and failures would sink miserably out of the exit.

A clock tinged twelve in the distance. With scraping feet that could be heard before they appeared, the Secretary and porters came solemnly down the stairs.

They took up their positions and the leather book was opened. The elder porter raised his voice.

“Number 209,” he began. “Number 37. Number 306.”

Grimsdyke punched me hard in the ribs.

I jumped and struggled my way through the crowd of impatient candidates. My pulse shot high in my ears. My face was burning hot and I felt my stomach had been suddenly plucked from my body.

I came up to the stairs. My mind was empty and numb.

“Number 306?” the Secretary whispered, without looking up from the book. “Richard Gordon?”

“Yes,” I whispered.

The world stood still. The traffic stopped, the plants ceased growing, men were paralysed, the clouds hung in the air, the sun halted in the sky.

“Pass,” the man muttered.

Blindly, like a man just hit by blackjack, I stumbled upstairs.

 

The pub of the King George was full. Every student in the medical school seemed to be inside the tiny bar. Everyone was shouting and singing, leaning on each other, slapping their friends on the back. The news of more successes was brought into the room like the news of victories to a triumphant headquarters.

I suddenly found myself jammed between Benskin and Grimsdyke.

“Hooray!” shouted Benskin, ruffling my hair.

“It’s bloody funny!” Grimsdyke shouted. “Bloody funny!”

“What is?” I bowled at him.

“We’re three bloody doctors,” he cried out.

We burst into roars of laughter.

My feelings in the next few days were those of a private unexpectedly promoted to general overnight. In a minute or two I had been transformed from an unearning and good-for-nothing ragamuffin to a respectable member of a learned profession. Now banks would trust me with their money, hire firms with their cars and mothers with their daughters. I could sign prescriptions, death certificates and orders for extra milk, and no one could contradict me. It was wonderful.

As soon as the exam results became known, the Chiefs made appointments to the resident staff of St Swithin’s. I became house-physician to Dr Malcolm Maxworth and had to begin work the next day.

Explanatory Notes

 

1. viva voce examinations [ˌvaɪvə 'vəʊtʃɪ] — oral examinations

2. like the policemen that flank the dock at the Old Bailey — как полицейские, охраняющие скамью подсудимых в Олд Бейли. (Criminal Court building in London)

3. the condemned block — камера смертников

4. Swithin’s — the Medical School of St Swithin’s hospital

5. Just the thing! — То, что надо!

6. over the pass number — балл выше проходного

7. “per via naturalis” — (Latin) in a natural way

 

Post-reading tasks

 

SOUNDS AND SPELLING

III. Transcribe and translate the words:

 

numb

requesting

dive

authorities

judgement

weigh

committee

viva voce

trunk

gloomy

immediate

previously

separately

physical

chancy

row

confession

anxiety

clinical

pathology

stethoscope

competent

specimen

rugby

diagnosis

bottom

peril

ophthalmoscope

liver

aquarium

cribbing

guess

midwifery

flagrant

pneumonia

obstetrician

serum

forceps

prognosis

guinea

papier-mâché

porter

execution

failures

cheating

IV. Pronounce correctly the following medical terms from the text:

 

hepatisation mitral diphtheria systolic stenosis apex

[ˌhɛpətaɪ'zeɪʃn] ['maɪtrəl] [dɪf'Ѳɪərɪə] ['sɪstəlɪk] [stə'nəʊsɪs] ['eɪpəks]

rheumatic aorta fibrillation retinal thyroid foetus

[rʊː'mætɪk] [eɪ'ɔːtə] [ˌfaɪbrɪ'leɪʃn] ['retɪnəl] ['Ѳaɪrɔɪd] ['fiːtəs]

 

WORD FORMATION

V. From what stems are the following words derived? Give derivatives using word-building suffixes and prefixes:

inevitability, qualification, unpleasant, medical, investigation, authorities, professional, separately, clinical, impossible, uniformed, indifferently, incomplete, impression, cribbing, upturned, requesting, unpopular, judgement, punishment, confession, pathological, renewed, previously, devilish, unmarried, observation, intently, enlarged, anxiously.

 

VI. Pronounce correctly the following compounds:

well-established, eleven-thirty, shorthand-typing, twenty-two, finger-nails, boyfriends, life-size, papier-mâché, straw-stuffed, midday, leather-covered, handshakes, blackjack, headquarters, good-for-nothing.

 

VII. Give the three forms of the verbs from the text and translate them:

to face, to represent, to soar, to accept, to hold, to divide, to raise, to refrain, to mutter, to flank, to ring, to beat, to throw, to hold, to bloat, to recognize, to nod, to inject, to identify, to amuse, to leap, to slip, to hit, to require, to deliver, to descend, to sink, to punch, to fade, to cease, to halt, to ruffle, to sign.

 

VOCABULARY DEVELOPMENT

VIII. Which is the synonym for the words in italics:

contest — test, context, competition;

chest — chestnut, bosom, breast;

gloomy — dismal, dark, black;

descend — desert, calm down, come down;

cheat — deceive, lie, check, betray;

slip — slide, sleep, float, glide;

chap — chop, fellow, friend.

 

IX. Think of words opposite in meaning to the following:

 

convenient competence pick up

well-established anxiety pull

separately advantage punish

 

X. Give definitions of the following words using your English-English dictionary:

a) peril, crib, staff;

b) resident, flagrant, anxious;

c) to soar, to halt, to refrain.

 

XI. Use the words from the text to express these notions:

1. a soldier who has the lowest rank in an army; 2. a nurse who advises pregnant women and helps them to give birth; 3. an instrument consisting of two long narrow arms; 4. a doctor who is especially trained to deal with pregnant women and child birth; 5. to say something very quietly; 6. an oral examination, especially one taken in a university; 7. an unborn animal or human being in its later stages of development; 8. a religious act in which you tell a priest about your sins and ask for forgiveness.

(foetus, viva voce, midwife, murmur, private, obstetrician, confession, forceps).

XII. Find in the text the English equivalents for the following:

золотое правило; чертовски трудный; стандартный вес; противодифтерийная сыворотка; муляж младенца, набитый соломой; профессиональный боксер; компетентный диагноз; полированный пол; несчастные жертвы; акушерские щипцы; муляж из папье-маше в натуральную величину.

 

XIII. Translate and paraphrase the following expressions:

neighbour’s writing; a straight contest; accurate diagnosis; uniformed porters; the upper half of the sheet; orders for extra milk for children; life-size papier-mâché model; physical contact; the threat of immediate punishment.

 

XIV. Insert prepositions:

1.... rows of desks set () a distance.

2.... instructions () red ink.

3.... () a beating heart.

4.... () a peril of being thrown out.

5. … the remains () a Sunday dinner.

6. … I will inject it () a guinea pig.

7. … examiners () nearby tables.

8. … a figure () () a fashion journal.

9. … looking intently () the instrument.

10. … with a grateful smile () the redhead.

11. … I ran downstairs () delight.

12. … was questioned () practical midwifery.

13. … this was demanded () Benskin.

 

XV. Read and translate the extract; insert articles into the gaps where necessary:

I was shown to () little waiting room with () hard chairs, () wooden table and () windows that didn’t open, like () prison cell. There were six candidates from other hospitals waiting to go in with me, all of them in their best clothes. They illustrated () types commonly seen in waiting rooms at viva examinations. There was () Nonchalant (Невозмутимый), sitting in () arm-chair with his feet on () table and reading () sporting page of () newspaper. Next to him, () man of () Frankly Worried Class (Слабонервный) sat on () edge of his chair tearing little bits off his invitation card and jumping nervously every time () door opened. There was () Crammer (Зубрила) feverishly turning over () pages of () battery of his textbooks, and his opposite, the Old Stager (Завсегдатай экзаменов) who treated the whole thing with () indifference of a photographer at a wedding. He had obviously failed () examination so often he looked upon () viva simply as another engagement to fill his day. He stood looking out of () window and yawning.

(From “Doctor in the House” by R. Gordon)

 

XVI. Paraphrase the following sentences:

1. Any country that accepts a British qualification is represented.

2. A single examiner sat in his gown and hood on a raised platform to keep an eye open for flagrant cheating.

3. Three uniformed porters stood by the doors and looked indifferently down at the poor victims, like the policemen that flank the dock at the Old Bailey.

4. But the viva is judgement day.

5. The clinical is probably the most chancy of the three parts.

6. He saw his chances of passing fading like a spent match.

7. Everyone was shouting and singing, leaning on each other, slapping their friends on the back.

8. My feelings in the next few days were those of a private overnight promoted to a general.

 

XVII. Arrange the following words in the order of raising in a military rank:

 

colonel lieutenant sergeant general

private captain major marshal

 

XVIII. Make up dialogues using the following phrases:

a) unpleasant inevitability; to get nervous; viva voce examinations; to be short and tricky; on well-established rules; to make smth unpopular with smb; to identify smth correctly; to keep an eye open for smth; to give a strong pull.

b) flagrant cheating; to turn smth upside down; to be disappointed to find that; to mumble miserably; to play one’s cards correctly; to let out a whistle of amazement; a severe accident; to refrain from cheating; to slap smb on the back.

c) a cocktail party; a double row of tables; a small glass pot; in a low voice; to leave the subject; incomplete sentence; life-size papier-mâché model; to be faced with smth; to punch smb hard in the riles; to sign prescriptions.

 

XIX. Match the idioms and popular phrases in the left column with their Russian equivalents in the right column. Think of situations where you can use them.

 

1. knowledge is power 2. to bury one’s talent 3. in the sweat of one’s brow 4. the riddle of the Sphinx 5. Hercules’ labour 6. to hang by a thread 7. to take (bear) the palm 8. to rest on one’s laurels 9. to eat of the tree of knowledge

a. почить на лаврах b. вкушать от древа познания c. Геркулесов труд d. получить пальму первенства e. в поте лица f. загадка сфинкса g. зарыть талант в землю h. висеть на волоске i. знание — сила