昨天的多项选择题做完了?看看对了多少？

Answers to Multiple-Choice Questions

1 – e    2 – b   3 – a  4 – d  5 – e  6 – c   7 – b  8 – b  9 – a  10 – d   11 – e  12 – d   13 – e   14 – c   15 – e   16 – d   17 – b 

18 – c  19 – a  20 – b  21 – e  22 – d  23 – e  24 – c   25 – d   26 – c   27 – a   28 – a   29 – b   30 – a   31 – b   32 – e  33 – c

34 – b  35 – a  36 – c  37 – d   38 – c  39 – e   40 – a   41 – b   42 – d  43 – e  44 – b   45 – c  46 – a

 

 再做做自由回答的题目：

Sample Free-Response Questions

Note: There are more sample questions here than would appear on an actual exam.

1. (Suggested time—40 minutes)

In the following soliloquy from Shakespeare’s Henry IV, Part II, King Henry laments

his inability to sleep. In a well-organized essay, briefly summarize the King’s thoughts

and analyze how the diction, imagery, and syntax help to convey his state of mind.

How many thousand of my poorest subjects

Are at this hour asleep! O sleep! O gentle sleep!

Nature’s soft nurse, how have I frighted thee,

That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down,

(5)And steep my senses in forgetfulness?

Why rather, sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs,1

Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee,

And hush’d with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber,

Than in the perfum’d chambers of the great,

(10)Under the canopies of costly state,

And lull’d with sound of sweetest melody?

O thou dull god, why liest thou with the vile

In loathsome beds, and leav’st the kingly couch

A watch-case or a common ’larum-bell?

(15)Wilt thou upon the high and giddy mast

Seal up the ship-boy’s eyes, and rock his brains

In cradle of the rude imperious surge,

And in the visitation of the winds,

Who take the ruffian billows by the top,

(20)Curling their monstrous heads and hanging them

With deaf’ning clamour in the slippery clouds,

That with the hurly death itself awakes?

Canst thou, O partial2 sleep, give thy repose

To the wet sea-boy in an hour so rude,

(25)And in the calmest and most stillest night,

With all appliances and means to boot,

Deny it to a King? Then, happy low, lie down!

Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.

 

2. (Suggested time—40 minutes)

Read carefully the following poem by the colonial American poet, Anne Bradstreet.

Then write a well-organized essay in which you discuss how the poem’s controlling

metaphor expresses the complex attitude of the speaker.

The Author to Her Book

Thou ill-formed offspring of my feeble brain,

Who after birth did’st by my side remain,

Til snatched from thence by friends, less wise than true,

Who thee abroad exposed to public view;

(5)Made thee in rags, halting, to the press to trudge,

Where errors were not lessened, all may judge.

At thy return my blushing was not small,

My rambling brat (in print) should mother call,

I cast thee by as one unfit for light,

(10)Thy visage was so irksome in my sight;

Yet being mine own, at length affection would

Thy blemishes amend, if so I could.

I washed thy face, but more defects I saw,

And rubbing off a spot, still made a flaw.

(15)I stretched thy joints to make thee even feet,

Yet still thou run’st more hobbling than is meet;

In better dress to trim thee was my mind,

But nought save homespun cloth in the house I find.

In this array, ’mongst vulgars may’st thou roam;

(20)In critics’ hands beware thou dost not come;

And take thy way where yet thou are not known.

If for thy Father asked, say thou had’st none;

And for thy Mother, she alas is poor,

Which caused her thus to send thee out of door.

 

3. (Suggested time—40 minutes)

Read the following passage from Nathaniel Hawthorne’s novel The House of the

Seven Gables. Then write a careful analysis of how the narrator reveals the character

of Judge Pyncheon. You may emphasize whichever devices (e.g., tone, selection of

detail, syntax, point of view) you find most significant.

To apply this train of remark somewhat more closely

to Judge Pyncheon! We might say (without, in the least,

imputing crime to a personage of his eminent respectability)

that there was enough of splendid rubbish in his

(5)life to cover up and paralyze a more active and subtile

conscience than the Judge was ever troubled with. The

purity of his judicial character, while on the bench; the

faithfulness of his public service in subsequent capacities;

his devotedness to his party, and the rigid consistency

(10)with which he had adhered to its principles, or, at

all events, kept pace with its organized movements;

his remarkable zeal as president of a Bible society;

his unimpeachable integrity as treasurer of a Widow’s

and Orphan’s fund; his benefits to horticulture, by producing

(15)two much-esteemed varieties of the pear, and to

agriculture, through the agency of the famous Pyncheonbull;

the cleanliness of his moral deportment, for a great

many years past; the severity with which he had frowned

upon, and finally cast off, an expensive and dissipated

(20)son, delaying forgiveness until within the final quarter

of an hour of the young man’s life; his prayers at morning

and eventide, and graces at mealtime; his efforts in futherance

of the temperance-cause; his confining himself,

since the last attack of the gout, to five diurnal

(25)glasses of old Sherry wine; the snowy whiteness of his

linen, the polish of his boots, the handsomeness of his

gold-headed cane, the square and roomy fashion of his coat,

and the fineness of its material, and, in general,

the studied propriety of his dress and equipment; the

(30)scrupulousness with which he paid public notice, in the

street, by a bow, a lifting of the hat, a nod, or a motion

of the hand, to all and sundry his acquaintances, rich or

poor; the smile of broad benevolence wherewith he

made it a point to gladden the whole world;—what

(35)room could possibly be found for darker traits, in a

portrait made up of lineaments like these! This proper

face was what he beheld in the looking-glass. This

admirably arranged life was what he was conscious of,

in the progress of every day. Then, might not he claim

(40)to be its result and sum, and say to himself and the

community—“Behold Judge Pyncheon, there”?

And, allowing that, many, many years ago, in his

early and reckless youth, he had committed some one

wrong act or that, even now, the inevitable force of

(45)circumstances should occasionally make him do one

questionable deed, among a thousand praiseworthy,

or, at least, blameless ones—would you characterize

the Judge by that one necessary deed, and that halfforgotten

act, and let it overshadow the fair aspect of a

(50)lifetime! What is there so ponderous in evil, that a

thumb’s bigness of it should outweigh the mass of

things not evil, which were heaped into the other scale!

This scale and balance system is a favorite one with

people of Judge Pyncheon’s brotherhood. A hard, cold

(55)man, thus unfortunately situated, seldom or never looking

inward, and resolutely taking his idea of himself

from what purports to be his image, as reflected in the

mirror of public opinion, can scarcely arrive at true

self-knowledge, except through loss of property and

(60)reputation. Sickness will not always help him to it; not

always the death-hour!

 

4. (Suggested time—40 minutes)

Read carefully the following passage from Joy Kogawa’s Obasan, a novel about the

relocation of Japanese Canadians to internment camps during the Second World War.

Then, in a well-organized essay, analyze how changes in perspective and style reflect

the narrator’s complex attitude toward the past. In your analysis, consider literary

elements such as point of view, structure, selection of detail, and figurative language.

1942.

We are leaving the B.C. coast—rain, cloud, mist—an air overladen with

weeping. Behind us lies a salty sea, within which swim our drowning

specks of memory—our small waterlogged eulogies. We are going down to

(5)the middle of the Earth with pick-axe eyes, tunneling by train to the interior,

carried along by the momentum of the expulsion into the waiting

wilderness.

We are hammers and chisels in the hands of would-be sculptors, battering

the spirit of the sleeping mountain. We are the chips and sand, the

(10)fragments of fragments that fly like arrows from the heart of the rock.

We are the silences that speak from stone. We are the despised rendered

voiceless, stripped of car, radio, camera and every means of communication,

a trainload of eyes covered with mud and spittle. We are the man in

the Gospel of John, born into the world for the sake of the light. We are

(15)sent to Siloam, the pool called “Sent”. We are sent to the sending, that we

may bring sight. We are the scholarly and the illiterate, the envied and the

ugly, the fierce and the docile. We are those pioneers who cleared the bush

and the forest with our hands, the gardeners tending and attending the soil

with our tenderness, the fishermen who are flung from the sea to flounder

(20)in the dust of the prairies.

We are the Issei and the Nisei and the Sansei,* the Japanese Canadians.

We disappear into the future undemanding as dew.

The memories are dream images. A pile of luggage in a large hall.

Missionaries at the railway station handing out packages of toys. Stephen

(25)being carried on board the train, a white cast up to his thigh.

It is three decades ago and I am a small child resting my head in Obasan’s

lap. I am wearing a wine-coloured dirndl skirt with straps that criss-cross

at the back. My white silk blouse has a Peter Pan collar dotted with tiny

red flowers. I have a wine-colored sweater with ivory duck buttons.

(30)Stephen sits sideways on a seat by himself opposite us, his huge white

leg like a cocoon.

The train is full of strangers. But even strangers are addressed as

“ojisan” or “obasan,” meaning uncle or aunt. Not one uncle or aunt, grandfather

or grandmother, brother or sister, not one of us on this journey

(35)returns home again. The train smells of oil and soot and orange peels and lurches groggily as

we rock our way inland. Along the window ledge, the black soot leaps and

settles like insects. Underfoot and in the aisles and beside us on the seats

we are surrounded by odd bits of luggage—bags, lunch baskets, blankets,

(40)pillows. My red umbrella with its knobby clear red handle sticks out of a

box like the head of an exotic bird. In the seat behind us is a boy in short

gray pants and jacket carrying a wooden slatted box with a tabby kitten

inside. He is trying to distract the kitten with his finger but the kitten

mews and mews, its mouth opening and closing. I can barely hear its high

(45)steady cry in the clackity-clack and steamy hiss of the train.

A few seats in front, one young woman is sitting with her narrow shoulders

hunched over a tiny red-faced baby. Her short black hair falls into her

birdlike face. She is so young, I would call her “o-nesan,” older sister.

The woman in the aisle seat opposite us leans over and whispers to

(50)Obasan with a solemn nodding of her head and a flicker of her eyes indicating

the young woman.

Obasan moves her head slowly and gravely in a nod as she listens.

“Kawaiso,” she says under her breath. The word is used whenever there is

hurt and a need for tenderness.

(55)The young mother, Kuniko-san, came from Saltspring Island, the woman

says. Kuniko-san was rushed onto the train from Hastings Park, a few days

after giving birth prematurely to her baby.

“She has nothing,” the woman whispers. “Not even diapers.”

Aya Obasan does not respond as she looks steadily at the dirt-covered

(60)floor. I lean out into the aisle and I can see the baby’s tiny fist curled tight

against its wrinkled face. Its eyes are closed and its mouth is squinched

small as a button. Kuniko-san does not lift her eyes at all.

“Kawai,” I whisper to Obasan, meaning that the baby is cute.

Obasan hands me an orange from a wicker basket and gestures towards

(65)Kuniko-san, indicating that I should take her the gift. But I pull back.

“For the baby,” Obasan says urging me.

I withdraw farther into my seat. She shakes open a furoshiki—a square

cloth that is used to carry things by tying the corners together—and

places a towel and some apples and oranges in it. I watch her lurching

(70)from side to side as she walks toward Kuniko-san.

Clutching the top of Kuniko-san’s seat with one hand, Obasan bows and

holds the furoshiki out to her. Kuniko-san clutches the baby against her

breast and bows forward twice while accepting Obasan’s gift without looking

up.

 

 

5. (Suggested time—40 minutes)

The British novelist Fay Weldon offers this observation about happy endings:

“The writers, I do believe, who get the best and most lasting response from readers

are the writers who offer a happy ending through moral development. By a happy

ending, I do not mean mere fortunate events—a marriage or a last-minute rescue from

death—but some kind of spiritual reassessment or moral reconciliation, even with the

self, even at death.”

Choose a novel or play that has the kind of ending Weldon describes. In a wellwritten

essay, identify the “spiritual reassessment or moral reconciliation” evident in

the ending and explain its significance in the work as a whole. You may select a work

from the list below or another novel or play of literary merit.

Adventures of Huckleberry Finn                Major Barbara

All the Pretty Horses                                 Moby-Dick

Bless Me, Ultima                                      The Piano Lesson

Candide                                                   A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man

Ceremony                                                 The Portrait of a Lady

The Color Purple                                    Praisesong for the Widow

Crime and Punishment                          A Raisin in the Sun

Cry, the Beloved Country                     Song of Solomon

Emma                                                   The Stone Angel

The Eumenides                                    The Tempest

Great Expectations                             Their Eyes Were Watching God

Heart of Darkness                              Twelfth Night

Invisible Man                                     The Warden

 Jane Eyre                                         Wuthering Heights

King Lear

 

6. (Suggested time—40 minutes)

Choose a novel or play that depicts a conflict between a parent (or a parental figure)

and a son or daughter. Write an essay in which you analyze the sources of the conflict

and explain how the conflict contributes to the meaning of the work.

Avoid plot summary.

You may base your essay on one of the following works or choose another of

comparable literary quality.

All My Sons                                                          The Mill on the Floss

Antigone                                                                Mrs. Warren’s Profession                                                     

As I Lay Dying                                                     The Oresteia

Beloved                                                                Our Mutual Friend

The Brothers Karamazov                                    Persuasion

Fathers and Sons                                                The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie

The Glass Menagerie                                         A Raisin in the Sun

Go Tell It on the Mountain                                Romeo and Juliet

Hard Times                                                       Sons and Lovers                  

Henry IV                                                          Their  Eyes Were Watching God

The Homecoming                                             Tom Jones

King Lear                                                         Washington Square

The Little Foxes                                              Wuthering Heights

Long Day’s Journey into Night