Try and analyze the following texts



Мы поможем в написании ваших работ!


Мы поможем в написании ваших работ!



Мы поможем в написании ваших работ!


ЗНАЕТЕ ЛИ ВЫ?

Try and analyze the following texts



1. My dad had a small insurance agency in Newport. He had moved there because his sister had married old Newport money and was a big wheel in the Preservation Society. At fifteen I’m an orphan and Vic moves in. “From now on you’ll do as I tell you,” he says. It impressed me. Vic had never really shown any muscle before.

2. He had heard everything the Boy said however – was waiting for the right moment to wrap up his silence, roll it into a weapon and hit Matty over the head with it. He did so now.

3. And out of the quiet it came to Abramovici that the battle was over, it had left him alive; it had been a battle – a battle! You know where people go out and push little buttons and pull little triggers and figure out targets and aim with the intention to kill, to tear your guts, to blow out your brains, to put great ragged holes in the body you’ve been taking care of and feeding and washing all your life, holes out of which your blood comes pouring, more blood than you ever could wash off, hold back, stop with all the bandages in the world!

4. From that day on, thundering trains loomed in his dreams – hurtling, sleek, black monsters whose stack pipes belched gobs of serpentine smoke, whose seething fireboxes coughed out clouds of pink sparks, whose pushing pistons sprayed jets of hissing steam – panting trains that roared yammeringly over farflung, gleaming rails only to come to limp and convulsive halts – long, fearful trains that were hauled brutally forward by red-eyed locomotives that you loved watching as they (and you trembling) crashed past (and you longing to run but finding your feet strangely glued to the ground).

5. As various aids to recovery were removed from him and he began to speak more, it was observed that his relationship to language was unusual. He mouthed. Not only did he clench his fists with the effort of speaking, he squinted. It seemed that a word was an object, round and smooth sometimes, a golf-ball of a thing that he could just about manage to get through his mouth, though it deformed his face in the passage. Some words were jagged and these became awful passages of pain and struggle that made the other children laugh. Patience and silence seemed the greater part of his nature. Bit by bit he learnt to control the anguish of speaking until the golf-balls and jagged stones, the toads and jewels passed through his mouth with not much more than the normal effort.

6. “Is anything wrong?” asked the tall well-muscled manager with menacing inscrutability, arriving to ensure that nothing in his restaurant ever would go amiss. A second contender for the world karate championship glided noiselessly up alongside in formidable allegiance.

7. As Prew listened the mobile face before him melted to a battle-blackened skull as though a flamethrower had passed over it, kissed it lightly, and moved on. The skull talked on to him about his health.

8. In a very few minutes an ambulance came, the team was told all the nothing that was known about the child and he was driven away, the ambulance bell ringing, unnecessarily.

9. This area took Matty and absorbed him. He received pocket money. He slept in a long attic. He ate well. He wore a thick dark-grey suit and grey overalls. He carried things. He became the Boy.

10. You know a lot of trouble has been caused by memoirs. Indiscreet revelations, that sort of thing. People who have been close as an oyster all their lives seem positively to relish causing trouble when they themselves will be comfortably dead. It gives them a kind of malicious glee.

11. “You’re the last person I wanted to see. The sight of you dries up all my plans and hopes. I wish I were back at war still, because it’s easier to fight you than to live with you. War’s a pleasure do you hear me? – War’s a pleasure compared to what faces us how: trying to build up a peacetime with you in the middle of it.”

“I’m not going to be a part of any peacetime of yours. I’m going a long way from here and make my own world that’s fit for a man to live in. Where a man can be free, and have a chance, and do what he wants to do in his own way,” Henry said.

“Henry, let’s try again.”

“Try what? Living here? Speaking polite down to all the old men like you? Standing like sheep at the street corner until – the red light turns to green? Being a good boy and a good sheep, like all the stinking ideas you get out your books? Oh, no! I’ll make a world, and I’ll show you.”

12. He leaned his elbows on the porch ledge and stood looking down through the screens at the familiar scene of the barracks square laid out below with the tiers of porches dark in the faces of the three-story concrete barracks fronting on the square. He was feeling a half-sheepish affection for his vantage point that he was leaving.

Below him under the blows of the February Hawaiian sun the quadrangle gasped defenselessly, like an exhausted fighter. Through the heat haze the thin midmorning film of the parched red dust came up a muted orchestra of sound: the clanking of steel-wheeled carts bouncing over brick, the slappings of oiled leather sling-straps, the shuffling beat of shoesoles, the hoarse expletive of irritated noncoms.

13. Around noon the last shivering wedding guest arrived at the farmhouse: then for all the around nothing moved on the gale-haunted moors – neither carriage, wagon, nor human figure. The road emptily over the low hills. The gray day turned still colder, and invisible clouds of air began to stir slowly in great icy swaths, as if signaling some convulsive change beyond the sky. From across the downs came the boom of surf against the island cliffs. Within an hour the sea wind rose to a steady moan, and then within the next hour rose still more to become a screaming ocean of air.

Ribbons of shouted laughter and music – wild waltzes and reels streamed thinly from the house, but all the weddings sounds were engulfed, drowned and then lost in the steady roar of the gale. Finally, at three o’clock, spits of snow became a steady swirl of white that obscured the landscape more thoroughly than any fog that had ever rolled in from the sea.

    



Последнее изменение этой страницы: 2021-04-05; Нарушение авторского права страницы; Мы поможем в написании вашей работы!

infopedia.su Все материалы представленные на сайте исключительно с целью ознакомления читателями и не преследуют коммерческих целей или нарушение авторских прав. Обратная связь - 3.236.28.137 (0.005 с.)