[考研类试卷]2011年国际关系学院英语专业（英美文学）真题试卷及答案与解析.doc

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1、2011 年国际关系学院英语专业（英美文学）真题试卷及答案与解析一、匹配题0 Please match the following authors with their works.(10 points)1. The Waves2. Alls Well that Ends Well3. Where Angels Fear to Tread4. Song of Myself5. Ulysses6. The Hairy Ape7. Women in Love8. The Pit9. Death in the Afternoon10. Babbitt11. Adam Bede12. Burmese

2、Days13. The Innocents Abroad14. The Open Boat15. The Sketch Book16. Oliver Twist17. Lord Jim18. The American19. Light in August20. Typee1 William Faulkner2 James Joyce3 Sinclair Lewis4 George Eliot5 Stephen Crane6 Charles Dickens7 Mark Twain8 E. M. Forster9 Eugene ONeill10 William Shakespeare11 Fran

3、k Norris12 Joseph Conrad13 Henry James14 Herman Melville15 Ernest Hemingway16 Walt Whitman17 George Orwell18 D.H. Lawrence19 Virginia Woolf20 Washington Irving二、填空题21 A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man is an autobiographical sketch of(1)s childhood and early(2)22 The Romantic period in American

4、 literature stretches from(3)to(4)23 James Fenimore Cooper created a(5)about the(6)period of the American nation.24 Edgar Allan Poe believes(7)is the most legitimate of all the poetic tones and the(8)_of a beautiful woman is the most poetical topic in the world.25 The Lake Poets criticized the indus

5、trialized(9)society by advocating the(10)to the patriarchal society of the past while Byron and Shelley attacked the forces of oppression both (11)and(12)and called on the oppressed people to rise against earthly tyrants.26 The height of Thomas Hardys achievement as a novelist was reached in his las

6、t two novels both published in the 1890s. The central figures in the two novels are(13)and(14)27 Hemingways(15)hero is a man of(16)rather than a man of thought. He can be destroyed but not(17)and he always shows(18)under pressure. 28 The central theme of Paradise Lost is taken from the(19)and deals

7、with the Christian story of “the(20)of man“.三、评论题29 Please read the following poem and make comments in about 300 words.(50 points)The Wild Swans at Coole *The trees are in their autumn beauty,The woodland paths are dry,Under the October twilight the waterMirrors a still sky;Upon the brimming water

8、among the stonesAre nine-and-fifty swans.The nineteenth autumn has come upon meSince I first made my count;I saw, before I had well finished,All suddenly mountAnd scatter wheeling in great broken ringsUpon their clamorous wings.I have looked upon those brilliant creatures,And now my heart is sore.Al

9、ls changed since I, hearing at twilight,The first time on this shore,The bell-beat of their wings above my head,Trod with a lighter tread.Unwearied still, lover by lover,They paddle in the coldCompanionable streams or climb the air;Their hearts have not grown old;Passion or conquest, wander where th

10、ey will,Attend upon them still.But now they drift on the still water,Mysterious, beautiful;Among what rushes will they build,By what lakes edge of poolDelight mens eyes when I awake some dayTo find they have flown away?* Coole was the estate of Lady Augusta Gregory, the poets friend and patron, who

11、encouraged the young poet and made her house a second home to him.30 Please read the following story and make comments in about 500 words.(70 points)A Rose for EmilyIWhen Miss Emily Grierson died, our whole town went to her funeral: the men through a sort of respectful affection for a fallen monumen

12、t, the women mostly out of curiosity to see the inside of her house, which no one save an old man-servanta combined gardener and cookhad seen in at least ten years.It was a big, squarish frame house that had once been white, decorated with cupolas and spires and scrolled balconies in the heavily lig

13、htsome style of the seventies, set on what had once been our most select street. But garages and cotton gins had encroached and obliterated even the august names of that neighborhood; only Miss Emilys house was left, lifting its stubborn and coquettish decay above the cotton wagons and the gasoline

14、pumpsan eyesore among eyesores. And now Miss Emily had gone to join the representatives of those august names where they lay in the cedar-bemused cemetery among the ranked and anonymous graves of Union and Confederate soldiers who fell at the battle of Jefferson.Alive, Miss Emily had been a traditio

15、n, a duty, and a care; a sort of hereditary obligation upon the town, dating from that day in 1894 when Colonel Sartoris, the mayorhe who fathered the edict that no Negro woman should appear on the streets without an apronremitted her taxes, the dispensation dating from the death of her father on in

16、to perpetuity. Not that Miss Emily would have accepted charity. Colonel Sartoris invented an involved tale to the effect that Miss Emilys father had loaned money to the town, which the town, as a matter of business, preferred this way of repaying. Only a man of Colonel Sartoris generation and though

17、t could have invented it, and only a woman could have believed it.When the next generation, with its more modern ideas, became mayors and aldermen, this arrangement created some little dissatisfaction. On the first of the year they mailed her a tax notice. February came, and there was no reply. They

18、 wrote her a formal letter, asking her to call at the sheriffs office at her convenience. A week later the mayor wrote her himself, offering to call or to send his car for her, and received in reply a note on paper of an archaic shape, in a thin, flowing calligraphy in faded ink, to the effect that

19、she no longer went out at all. The tax notice was also enclosed, without comment.They called a special meeting of the Board of Aldermen. A deputation waited upon her, knocked at the door through which no visitor had passed since she ceased giving china-painting lessons eight or ten years earlier. Th

20、ey were admitted by the old Negro into a dim hall from which a stairway mounted into still more shadow. It smelled of dust and disusea close, dank smell. The Negro led them into the parlor. It was furnished in heavy, leather-covered furniture. When the Negro opened the blinds of one window, they cou

21、ld see that the leather was cracked; and when they sat down, a faint dust rose sluggishly about their thighs, spinning with slow motes in the single sun-ray. On a tarnished gilt easel before the fireplace stood a crayon portrait of Miss Emilys father.They rose when she entereda small, fat woman in b

22、lack, with a thin gold chain descending to her waist and vanishing into her belt, leaning on an ebony cane with a tarnished gold head. Her skeleton was small and spare; perhaps that was why what would have been merely plumpness in another was obesity in her. She looked bloated, like a body long subm

23、erged in motionless water, and of that pallid hue. Her eyes, lost in the fatty ridges of her face, looked like two small pieces of coal pressed into a lump of dough as they moved from one face to another while the visitors stated their errand.She did not ask them to sit. She just stood in the door a

24、nd listened quietly until the spokesman came to a stumbling halt. Then they could hear the invisible watch ticking at the end of the gold chain.Her voice was dry and cold. “I have no taxes in Jefferson. Colonel Sartoris explained it to me. Perhaps one of you can gain access to the city records and s

25、atisfy yourselves. “But we have. We are the city authorities, Miss Emily. Didnt you get a notice from the sheriff, signed by him?“I received a paper, yes,“ Miss Emily said. “Perhaps he considers himself the sheriff. I have no taxes in Jefferson. “But there is nothing on the books to show that, you s

26、ee. We must go by the“See Colonel Sartoris. I have no taxes in Jefferson. “But, Miss Emily“ See Colonel Sartoris. “(Colonel Sartoris had been dead almost ten years.)“ I have no taxes in Jefferson. Tobe!“ The Negro appeared. “Show these gentlemen out. “IISo she vanquished them, horse and foot, just a

27、s she had vanquished their fathers thirty years before about the smell. That was two years after her fathers death and a short time after her sweetheartthe one we believed would marry herhad deserted her. After her fathers death she went out very little; after her sweetheart went away, people hardly

28、 saw her at all. A few of the ladies had the temerity to call, but were not received, and the only sign of life about the place was the Negro mana young man thengoing in and out with a market basket.“ Just as if a manany mancould keep a kitchen properly,“ the ladies said; so they were not surprised

29、when the smell developed. It was another link between the gross, teeming world and the high and mighty Griersons.A neighbor, a woman, complained to the mayor, Judge Stevens, eighty years old.“But what will you have me do about it, madam?“ he said.“Why, send her word to stop it,“ the woman said. “Isn

30、t there a law?“ Im sure that wont be necessary,“ Judge Stevens said. “ Its probably just a snake or a rat that nigger of hers killed in the yard. Ill speak to him about it. “The next day he received two more complaints, one from a man who came in diffident deprecation. “We really must do something a

31、bout it, Judge. Id be the last one in the world to bother Miss Emily, but weve got to do something. “ That night the Board of Aldermen metthree graybeards and one younger man, a member of the rising generation.“Its simple enough,“ he said. “Send her word to have her place cleaned up. Give her a cert

32、ain time to do it in, and if she dont.“Dammit, sir, “ Judge Stevens said, “will you accuse a lady to her face of smelling bad?“So the next night, after midnight, four men crossed Miss Emilys lawn and slunk about the house like burglars, sniffing along the base of the brickwork and at the cellar open

33、ings while one of them performed a regular sowing motion with his hand out of a sack slung from his shoulder. They broke open the cellar door and sprinkled lime there, and in all the outbuildings. As they recrossed the lawn, a window that had been bark was lighted and Miss Emily sat in it, the light

34、 behind her, and her upright torso motionless as that of an idol. They crept quietly across the lawn and into the shadow of the locusts that lined the street. After a week or two the smell went away.That was when people had begun to feel really sorry for her. People in our town, remembering how old

35、lady Wyatt, her great-aunt, had gone completely crazy at last, believed that the Griersons held themselves a little too high for what they really were. None of the young men were quite good enough for Miss Emily and such. We had long thought of them as a tableau; Miss Emily a slender figure in white

36、 in the background, her father a spraddled silhouette in the foreground, his back to her and clutching a horsewhip, the two of them framed by the back-flung front door. So when she got to be thirty and was still single, we were not pleased exactly, but vindicated; even with insanity in the family sh

37、e wouldnt have turned down all of her chances if they had really materialized.When her father died, it got about that the house was all that was left to her; and in a way, people were glad. At last they could pity Miss Emily. Being left alone, and a pauper, she had become humanized. Now she too woul

38、d know the old thrill and the old despair of a penny more or less.The day after his death all the ladies prepared to call at the house and offer condolence and aid, as is our custom. Miss Emily met them at the door, dressed as usual and with no trace of grief on her face. She told them that her fath

39、er was not dead. She did that for three days, with the ministers calling on her, and the doctors, trying to persuade her to let them dispose of the body. Just as they were about to resort to law and force, she broke down, and they buried her father quickly.We did not say she was crazy them. We belie

40、ved she had to do that. We remembered all the young men her father had driven away, and we knew that with nothing left, she would have to cling to that which had robbed her, as people will.IIIShe was sick for a long time. When we saw her again, her hair was cut short, making her look like a girl, wi

41、th a vague resemblance to those angels in colored church windowssort of tragic and serene.The town had just let the contracts for paving the sidewalks, and in the summer after her fathers death they began the work. The construction company came with niggers and mules and machinery, and a foreman nam

42、ed Homer Barron, a Yankeea big, dark, ready man, with a big voice and eyes lighter than his face. The little boys would follow in groups to hear him cuss the niggers, and the niggers singing in time to the rise and fall of picks. Pretty soon he knew everybody in town. Whenever you heard a lot of lau

43、ghing anywhere about the square, Homer Barron would be in the center of the group. Presently we began to see him and Miss Emily on Sunday afternoons driving in the yellow-wheeled buggy and the matched team of bays from the livery stable.At first we were glad that Miss Emily would have an interest, b

44、ecause the ladies all said, “ Of course a Grierson would not think seriously of a Northerner, a day laborer. “ But there were still others, older people, who said that even grief could not cause a real lady to forget noblesse oblige without calling it noblesse oblige. They just said, “Poor Emily. He

45、r kinsfolk should come to her. “ She had some kin in Alabama; but years ago her father had fallen out with them over the estate of old lady Wyatt, the crazy woman, and there was no communication between the two families. They had not even been represented at the funeral.And as soon as the old people

46、 said, “Poor Emily,“ the whispering began. “Do you suppose its really so?“ they said to one another. “Of course it is. What else could.“ This behind their hands; rustling of craned silk and satin behind jalousies closed upon the sun of Sunday afternoon as the thin, swift clop-clop-clop of the matche

47、d team passed; “Poor Emily. “She carried her head high enough-even when we believed that she was fallen. It was as if she demanded more than ever the recognition of her dignity as the last Grierson; as if it had wanted that touch of earthiness to reaffirm her imperviousness. Like when she bought the

48、 rat poison, the arsenic. That was over a year after they had begun to say “ Poor Emily,“ and while the two female cousins were visiting her.“ I want some poison,“ she said to the druggist. She was over thirty then, still a slight woman, though thinner than usual, with cold, haughty black eyes in a

49、face the flesh of which was strained across the temples and about the eyesockets as you imagine a lighthouse-keepers face ought to look “ I want some poison,“ she said.“Yes, Miss Emily. What kind? For rats and such? Id recom“I want the best you have. I dont care what kind. “The druggist named several. “Theyll kill anything up to an elephant. But what you want is“Arsenic,“ Miss Emily said. “Is that a good one?“ Is. arsenic ? Yes, maam. But what you want“I want arsenic.The druggist looked down at her. She looked back at him,