Introduction to English Literature 2021
 
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Introduction to English Literature(35576-04)
Midterm Exam
April 26, 2021

I. Identify the authors of the following passages and the titles of the novels they come from(4), and explain their significances with reference to the given contexts in which they are located(16).

1. I said: ¡°But there¡¯s no way not to suffer—is there, Sonny?¡± ¡°I believe not,¡± he said and smiled, ¡°but that¡¯s never stopped anyone from trying.¡± He looked at me. ¡°Has it?¡± I realized, with this mocking look, that there stood between us, forever, beyond the power of time or forgiveness, the fact that I had held silence— so long!— when he had needed human speech to help him. He turned back to the window. ¡°No, there¡¯s no way not to suffer. But you try all kinds of ways to keep from drowning in it, to keep on top of it, and to make it seem— well, like you. Like you did something, all right, and now you¡¯re suffering for it. You know?¡± I said nothing. ¡°Well you know,¡± he said, impatiently, ¡°why do people suffer? Maybe it¡¯s better to do something to give it a reason, any reason.¡± ¡°But we just agreed,¡± I said, ¡°that there¡¯s no way not to suffer. Isn¡¯t it better, then, just to— take it?¡± ¡°But nobody just takes it,¡± Sonny cried, ¡°that¡¯s what I¡¯m telling you! Everybody tries not to. You¡¯re just hung up on the way some people try— it¡¯s not your way!¡± The hair on my face began to itch, my face felt wet. ¡°That¡¯s not true,¡± I said, ¡°that¡¯s not true. I don¡¯t give a damn what other people do, I don¡¯t even care how they suffer. I just care how you suffer.¡± And he looked at me. ¡°Please believe me,¡± I said, ¡°I don¡¯t want to see you—die—trying not to suffer.¡± ¡°I won¡¯t,¡± he said flatly, ¡°die trying not to suffer. At least, not any faster than anybody else.¡±

2. A succession of loud and shrill screams, bursting suddenly from the throat of the chained form, seemed to thrust me violently back. For a brief moment I hesitated, I trembled. Unsheathing my rapier, I began to grope with it about the recess; but the thought of an instant reassured me. I placed my hand upon the solid fabric of the catacombs and felt satisfied. I reapproached the wall. I replied to the yells of him who clamoured. I re-echoed, I aided, I surpassed them in volume and in strength. I did this, and the clamourer grew still.

3. So the next night, after midnight, four men crossed Miss Emily¡¯s lawn and slunk about the house like burglars, sniffing along the base of the brickwork and at the cellar openings 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 dark was lighted and Miss Emily sat in it, the light 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.

4. I just watched Sonny¡¯s face. His face was troubled, he was working hard, but he wasn¡¯t with it. And I had the feeling that, in a way, everyone on the bandstand was waiting for him, both waiting for him and pushing him along. But as I began to watch Creole, I realized that it was Creole who held them all back. He had them on a short rein. Up there, keeping the beat with his whole body, wailing on the fiddle, with his eyes half closed, he was listening to everything, but he was listening to Sonny. He was having a dialogue with Sonny. He wanted Sonny to leave the shoreline and strike out for the deep water. He was Sonny¡¯s witness that deep water and drowning were not the same thing—he had been there, and he knew. And he wanted Sonny to know. He was waiting for Sonny to do the things on the keys which would let Creole know that Sonny was in the water.

II. Write short essays on the following passages with reference to the given topics(15).

5. Topic: Redemption

It was very beautiful because it wasn¡¯t hurried and it was no longer a lament. I seemed to hear with what burning he had made it his, and what burning we had yet to make it ours, how we could cease lamenting. Freedom lurked around us and I understood, at last, that he could help us to be free if we would listen, that he would never be free until we did. Yet, there was no battle in his face now, I heard what he had gone through, and would continue to go through until he came to rest in earth. He had made it his: that long line, of which we knew only Mama and Daddy. And he was giving it back, as everything must be given back, so that, passing through death, it can live forever. I saw my mother¡¯s face again, and felt, for the first time, how the stones of the road she had walked on must have bruised her feet. I saw the moonlit road where my father¡¯s brother died. And it brought something else back to me, and carried me past it, I saw my little girl again and felt Isabel¡¯s tears again, and I felt my own tears begin to rise. And I was yet aware that this was only a moment, that the world waited outside, as hungry as a tiger, and that trouble stretched above us, longer than the sky.

6. Topic: What exactly do ¡°we¡± mean by ¡°Poor Emily¡±?

At first we were glad that Miss Emily would have an interest, because 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. Her 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 said, ¡°Poor Emily,¡± the whispering began. ¡°Do you suppose it¡¯s 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 matched team passed: ¡°Poor Emily.¡±

7. Topic: The narrator¡¯s character

The thousand injuries of Fortunato I had borne as I best could, but when he ventured upon insult I vowed revenge. You, who so well know the nature of my soul, will not suppose, however, that I gave utterance to a threat. At length I would be avenged; this was a point definitively settled—but the very definitiveness with which it was resolved precluded the idea of risk. I must not only punish but punish with impunity. A wrong is unredressed when retribution overtakes its redresser. It is equally unredressed when the avenger fails to make himself felt as such to him who has done the wrong.

 
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