最新Unit 1 Love of reading全新版大学英语综合教程五课文翻译
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全新版大学英语第一册综合教程练习答案及课文译文Key to Exercises (Units 1-8)Unit 1 Growing up Part II Text A Writing for myself*Content questions(questions 1-12参看课文)*Text organization l.*Language sense enhancement (1 参看课文第5段, 2、3、4省略)*VocabularyI. 1. 1) respectable 2) agony 3) put ... down 4) sequence 5) hold back rigid6) distribute 7) off and on 8) vivid 9) associate ... with 10) finally11) turn in 12) tackleI . 2. 1) has been assigned to the newspaper's Paris office.2) was sp extraordinary that I didn’t know whether to believe him or not3) a clear image of how she would look in twenty years' time.4) gave the command the soldiers opened fire.III. Collocation1. at2. for3. of4. with5. as6. about7. to8. in, in9. from 10. on/upon*Comprehensive ExercisesI. Cloze1. 1). hold back 2). tedious 3).scanned 4). recall5). vivid 6). off and on 7).. turn out/turn in 8). career2. 1). Last 2) surprise 3) pulled 4)blowing5)dressed 6)scene 7)extraordinary 8)image9)turn 10)excitementII. Translation1.1)As it was a formal dinner party, I wore formal dress, as Mother told me to.2)His girlfriend advised him to get out of /get rid of his bad habit of smoking before it took hold.3). Anticipating that the demand for electricity will be high during the next few months, they have decided to increase its production.4)It is said the Bill has been fired for continually violating the company’s safty rules./// Bil l is said to have been continually violating the company’s safty rules.5) It is reported that government has taken proper measures to avoid the possibility of a severe water shortage./// The local government is reported to have taken proper measures to avoid the possibilty ofa severe water shortage.2. Susan lost her legs because of / in a car accident. For a time, she didn't know how to face up to the fact that she would never ( be able to) walk again.One day, while scanning (through ) books, a true story caught her eye/she was attracted by a true story. It gave a vivid description of how a disabled girl became a writer. Greatly inspired. Susan made up her mind to read as much as she could, and what's more, she wanted to write stories about her own childhood. Susan began to feel that she, too, would finally be able to lead a useful life.Part III TextBComprehension Checkl.c 2. a 3. c 4. d 5.b 6. dTranslation1. 我耳朵里嗡嗡作响,听不见他们后来讲的话,只东一点西一点渗入片言只语。
UNIT5Language Sense Enhancement1:(1) Answer: densely populated(2) Answer: uninhabitable(3) Answer: thrown into(4) Answer: migrate(5) Answer: contaminate(6) Answer: respiratory(7) Answer: widen the range(8) Answer: incidence(9) Answer: adjusting(10) Answer: wildlifeV ocabulary2:1) Its profits shrank from $5 million to $1.25 million in the last global financial crisis.2) They will have to adhere to the cultural norms of the organization in order to be successful with their database project.3) My hometown is/lies halfway in between Salk Lake City and Denver.4) I saw waves battering (against) the rocks at the bottom of the cliff.5) Flood waters washed away the only bridge connecting the village to the outside world.3:1) Your report on the new car park is fine, but why don't you beef it up with some figures?2) There is a wide variation among Internet providers in cost, features, software, reliability and customer service.3) Poverty is one of the reasons for the high incidence of crime in this neighborhood.4) I suggested we sing and dance for the elderly people in the nursing home, and all my roommates were in favor of my idea.5) Doctors who are compelled to work 36 hours at a stretch cannot possibly be fully efficient.Cloze1:(1) Answer: beef up(2) Answer: coastal(3) Answer: in favour of(4) Answer: residents(5) Answer: theoretical(6) Answer: disastrous(7) Answer: battered(8) Answer: shrinking(9) Answer: migrate(10) Answer: washed away(11) Answer: Scary(12) Answer: humanity2:(1) Answer: predicting(2) Answer: accuracy(3) Answer: basis(4) Answer: collide(5) Answer: atmosphere(6) Answer: melts(7) Answer: affected(8) Answer: actions(9) Answer: striving(10) Answer: technologiesTranslationMost scientists no longer doubt that the world is warming up and that humanity has altered climate. They agree that the long-term effects of global warming will be disastrous for the planet and its inhabitants. What is more, climate change won't be a smooth transition to a warmer world. Some regions will be greatly affected by abrupt climate changes. Enormous areas of densely populated land like coastal Florida would become uninhabitable. Hundreds of millions of residents would have to migrate to safer regions. Therefore, it is no surprise that global warming has made its way onto the agenda of world leaders.译文:我们献上一篇《时代》杂志编辑们撰写的文章,以此开始审视全球气候变暖问题。
Unit 1 Love of readingText A One Writer's Beginnings1 I learned from the age of two or three that any room in our house, at any time of day, was there to read in, or to be read to. My mother read to me. She'd read to me in the big bedroom in the mornings, when we were in her rocker together, which ticked in rhythm as we rocked, as though we had a cricket accompanying the story. She'd read to me in the dining room on winter afternoons in front of the coal fire, with our cuckoo clock ending the story with "Cuckoo", and at night when I'd got in my own bed. I must have given her no peace. Sometimes she read to me in the kitchen while she sat churning, and the churning sobbed along with any story. It was my ambition to have her read to me while I churned; once she granted my wish, but she read off my story before I brought her butter. She was an expressive reader. When she was reading "Puss in Boots," for instance, it was impossible not to know that she distrusted all cats.2 It had been startling and disappointing to me to find out that story books had been written by people, that books were not natural wonders, coming up of themselves like grass. Yet regardless of where they came from, I cannot remember a time when I was not in love with them —with the books themselves, cover and binding and the paper they were printed on, with their smell and their weight and with their possession in my arms, captured and carried off to myself. Still illiterate, I was ready for them, committed to all the reading I could give them.3 Neither of my parents had come from homes that could afford to buy many books, but though it must have been something of a strain on his salary, as the youngest officer in a young insurance company, my father was all the while carefully selecting and ordering away for what he and Mother thought we children should grow up with. They bought first for the future .4 Besides the bookcase in the living room, which was always called "the library", there were the encyclopedia tables and dictionary stand under windows in our dining room. Here to help us grow up arguing around the dining room table were the Unabridged Webster, the Columbia Encyclopedia, Compton's Pictured Encyclopedia, the Lincoln Library of Information, and later the Book of Knowledge. In "the library", inside the bookcase were books I could soon begin on —and I did, reading them all alike and as they came, straight down their rows, top shelf to bottom. My mother read secondarily for information; she sank as a hedonist into novels. She read Dickens in the spirit in which she would have eloped with him. The novels of her girlhood that had stayed on in her imagination, besides those of Dickens and Scott and Robert Louis Stevenson, wereJane Eyre, Trilby, The Woman in White, Green Mansions, King Solomon's Mines.5 To both my parents I owe my early acquaintance with a beloved Mark Twain. There was a full set of Mark Twain and a short set of Ring Lardner in our bookcase, and those were the volumes that in time united us all, parents and children.6 Reading everything that stood before me was how I came upon a worn old book that had belonged to my father as a child. It was called Sanford and Merton. Is there anyone left who recognizes it, I wonder? It is the famous moral tale written by Thomas Day in the 1780s, but of him no mention is made on the title page of this book; here it is Sanford and Merton in Words of One Syllable by Mary Godolphin. Here are the rich boy and the poor boy and Mr. Barlow, their teacher and interlocutor, in long discourses alternating with dramatic scenes —anger and rescue allotted to the rich and the poor respectively. It ends with not one but two morals, both engraved on rings: "Do what you ought, come what may," and "If we would be great, we must first learn to be good."7 This book was lacking its front cover, the back held on by strips of pasted paper, now turned golden, in several layers, and the pages stained, flecked, and tattered around the edges; its garish illustrations had come unattached but were preserved, laid in. I had the feeling even in my heedless childhood that this was the only book my father as a little boy had had of his own. He had held onto it, and might have gone to sleep on its coverless face: he had lost his mother when he was seven. My father had never made any mention to his own children of the book, but he had brought it along with him from Ohio to our house and shelved it in our bookcase.8 My mother had brought from West Virginia that set of Dickens: those books looked sad, too — they had been through fire and water before I was born, she told me, and there they were, lined up — as I later realized, waiting for me.9 I was presented, from as early as I can remember, with books of my own, which appeared on my birthday and Christmas morning. Indeed, my parents could not give me books enough. They must have sacrificed to give me on my sixth or seventh birthday — it was after I became a reader for myself-the ten-volume set of Our Wonder World. These were beautifully made, heavy books I would lie down with on the floor in front of the dining room hearth, and more often than the rest volume 5, Every Child's Story Book, was under my eyes. There were the fairy tales —Grimm, Andersen, the English, the French, "Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves"; and there was Aesop and Reynard the Fox; there were the myths and legends, Robin Hood, King Arthur, and St. George and the Dragon, even the history of Joan of Arc; a whack of Pilgrim's Progress and a long piece of Gulliver. They all carried their classic illustrations. I located myself in these pages andcould go straight to the stories and pictures I loved; very often "The Yellow Dwarf" was first choice, with Walter Crane's Yellow Dwarf in full color making his terrifying appearance flanked by turkeys. Now that volume is as worn and backless and hanging apart as my father's poor Sanford and Merton. One measure of my love for Our Wonder World was that for a long time I wondered if I would go through fire and water for it as my mother had done for Charles Dickens; and the only comfort was to think I could ask my mother to do it for me.10 I believe I'm the only child I know of who grew up with this treasure in the house.I used to ask others, "Did you have Our Wonder World?" I'd have to tell them The Book of Knowledge could not hold a candle to it.11 I live in gratitude to my parents for initiating me —as early as I begged for it, without keeping me waiting — into knowledge of the word, into reading and spelling, by way of the alphabet. They taught it to me at home in time for me to begin to read before starting to school.12 Ever since I was first read to, then started reading to myself, there has never beena line read that I didn't hear. As my eyes followed the sentence, a voice was saying it silently to me. It isn't my mother's voice, or the voice of any person I can identify, certainly not my own. It is human, but inward, and it is inwardly that I listen to it. It is to me the voice of the story or the poem itself. The cadence, whatever it is that asks you to believe, the feeling that resides in the printed word, reaches me through the reader-voice: I have supposed, but never found out, that this is the case with all readers — to read as listeners — and with all writers, to write as listeners. It may be part of the desire to write. The sound of what falls on the page begins the process of testing it for truth , for me. Whether I am right to trust so far I don't know. By now I don't know whether I could do either one, reading or writing, without the other.13 My own words, when I am at work on a story, I hear too as they go, in the same voice that I hear when I read in books. When I write and the sound of it comes back to my ears, then I act to make my changes. I have always trusted this voice.作家起步时我从两三岁起就知道,家中随便在哪个房间里,白天无论在什么时间,都可以念书或听人念书。
Unit 3PartⅡTextA The Truth About Lying关于说谎的真相朱迪斯?维奥斯特我一直想写一个令我深感兴趣的话题:关于说谎的问题。
我觉得这个题目很难写。
所有我交谈过的人都对什么事情可以说谎——什么事情绝对不可以说谎——持有强烈的、常常不容别人分说的个人意见。
最后我得出结论,我不能下任何定论,因为这样做就会有太多的人立即反对。
我想我还是提出若干都与说谎有关的道义上的难题吧。
我将向读者阐明我对这些难题的个人看法。
你们觉得对吗?社交性谎言和我交谈过的大多数人都说,他们认为旨在促进社会交际的谎言是可以接受的,也是必要的。
他们认为这是一种文明的行为。
他们说,要不是这类无关紧要的谎言,人与人之间的关系就会变得粗野不快,无法持久。
他们说,如果你要做到十二分正直、十二分无畏,不由自主地用你的诚实使他人陷入不必要的窘境或痛苦之中,这只能说你是傲慢自大。
对此,我基本赞同。
你呢?你会不会跟人说:“我喜欢你的新发型,”“你气色好多了,”“见到你真高兴,”“我玩得很尽兴,”而实际上根本不是这么回事儿?你会不会对令人憎厌的礼物,或相貌平平的孩子称赞有加?你婉辞邀请时会不会说“那天晚上我们正好没空——真对不起,我们不能来,”而实际上你是宁肯呆在家里也不想跟某某夫妇一起进餐?虽然像我那样,你也想用“太丰盛了”这种委婉的托辞,而不是盛赞“那汤味道好极了”(其实味同重新热过的咖啡),但如果你必须赞美那汤,你会说它鲜美吗?我认识一个人,他完全拒绝说这类社交性谎言。
“我不会那一套,”他说,“我生来就不会那一套。
”讲到对人家说几句好听的话并不失去什么,他的回答是:“不对,当然有损失——那会损害你的诚信度。
”因此你不问他,他不会对你刚买来的画发表意见,但除非你想听老实话,否则你也不会去问他的真实想法。
当我们这些说谎者轻声称赞着“多美啊”的时候,他的沉默往往是极能说明问题的。
我的这位朋友从来不讲他所说的“奉承话、虚假的赞美话和动听话”。
Unit 1 Book 5 One Writer’s Beginnings# Step 1 Before Reading# Step 1 Before Reading## 1. Warm-up Questions1. Did your parents ever read stories to you in your childhood? Can you recall anyof them now?2. Do you love reading? What kind of books do you like to read, science fiction,non-fiction, thrillers or love stories?3. Write a short essay about your first favorite book and exchange your essay withyour classmates.## 2. Listening Comprehension(Directions:) Here are two stories from Aesop's Fables. Have you ever read them before? Listen either of them and talk with your fellow students about what you learn from them.Story 1 The Wolf and the Crane(When a wolf was eating an animal, a small bone from the meat got stuck in his throat. He could not swallow it, so he felt a terrible pain.He ran up and down, and tried to find something to relieve the pain.He tried to convince anyone to remove the bone. "I would give anything," he said, "if you would take it out."At last the crane agreed to try. It told the wolf to open his mouth, and then put its long neck down the wolf's throat.The crane loosened the bone with its beak, and finally got it out."Will you kindly give me the reward?" asked the crane.The wolf showed his teeth, and said, "Be content, you have put your head into a wolf's mouth and taken it out again in safety. That is a great reward for you.")Story 2 The Wolf and the Lamb(Once upon a time a wolf was lapping at a stream. When he looked up, he saw a lamb drinking a little lower down."There's my supper," he thought. "I will find some excuse to catch it." Then he called out to the lamb, "How dare you muddle the water?" "No, master," said the lamb. "I cannot muddle your water because it runs down from you to me.""Well, then," said the wolf. "Why did you call me bad names this time last year?" "It was impossible," said the lamb. "I am only six months old.""I don't care," shouted the wolf. "If it was not you, it must be your father." After that he rushed at the poor little lamb and ate it up.)## 3. Blank Filling(Directions:) Open your textbooks and turn to Page 9, you can see a long list of famous writers, their works and the names of the heroes. Fill in the following blanks with the proper names in the list. The higher your score is, the more you know about western literature.1. In 1806, Noah Webster published his first dictionary. His great dictionary, An American Dictionary of the English Language, appeared in two volumes in 1828. This work included 12,000 words and 40,000 definitions that had never before appeared in a dictionary.2. Mr. Rochester and Jane Eyre fall in love and are about to marry when she discovers that he already has a wife, who is mentally ill. Years later the lovers meet again and marry, although Rochester has by this time been badly injured in a fire.3. Aesop is supposed to have been a freed slave from Thrace. His name became attached to a collection of beast fables long transmitted through oral tradition. The beast fables are part of the common culture of the Indo-European peoples and constitute perhaps the most widely read collection of fables in world literature.4. Robin Hood is a character in traditional British stories. He often wore clothes made of a material called Lincoln green, and held a bow. He robbed rich people and gave money to poor people. There are many stories about him and many films have been made about his adventures.5. Robert Louis Stevenson is best known for his famous children's adventure stories Treasure Island and Kidnapped, but he also wrote poetry for children and the well-known adult psychological novel The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.##4. Background Information### 1. Mark TwainName at Birth(Samuel Langhorne Clemens)Origin of the Pseudonym(In 1857, Clemens went to New Orleans on his way to make his fortune in South America, but instead he became a Mississippi River pilot—hence his pseudonym, “Mark Twain,” which was the river call for a depth of water of two fathoms. )Chronology of Mark Twain’s Life(1835 Born in Florida, Missouri.1847 Father dies, leaving family in difficult circumstances.1851 Begins work as a journeyman printer with the Hannibal Gazette.Publishes first sketches.1857 Becomes a cub-pilot for Horace Bixby. Spends next two years “learning”the river, later described in Life on the Mississippi.1862 Travels around Nevada and California. Takes job as reporter for the Virginia City Territorial Enterprise.1866 Takes trip to Hawaii as correspondent of the Sacramento Alta Californian. Reports on shipwreck of the Hornet. Gives first publiclecture.1870 Marries Livy in Elmira. Her father buys them a house in Buffalo, New York. Son Langdon is born.1874 Daughter Clara is born. Moves into fanciful Nook Farm house in Hartford.1976 Publishes Tom Sawyer.1884 Publishes The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn in London, American edition comes out the next year. Founds own publishing company,Charles L. Webster & Co.1891 Leaves Hartford to live in Europe because of financial difficulties.1895 Goes on worldwide lecture tour to restore finances.1910 Dies at Stormfield, buried in Elmira.)### 2. Hans Christian AndersonHans Christian Anderson was born in 1805 in Odese, Denmark. His father made shoes and his mother was a washer woman for the wealthy people.In his fairy tales you will find lots of themes showing the differences between the poor and the rich. You will also find the occasional shoemaker.Even as a kid he always loved the arts, and he left home when he was fourteen to make his fortune. He was an artist, a singer and an actor but he was not a success at the star. He grew even poorer and almost died of hunger. He received some money and could afford to continue his education thanks to the person who supported the arts, the director of the royal theater.He went to the university in Copenhagen and began his writing. Here are some of Anderson’s works:The Emperor's New ClothesThe Ugly DucklingThe Princess and the Pea(An emperor hires two tailors who promise to make him a set of remarkable new clothes that will be invisible to anyone who is either incompetent or stupid. When the emperor goes to see his new clothes, he sees nothing at all — for the tailors are swindlers and there aren't any clothes. Afraid of being judgedincompetent or stupid, the emperor pretends to be delighted with the new clothes and “wears” them in a grand parade through the town. Everyone else also pretends to see them, until a child yells out, “He hasn't got any clothes on!”People who point out the emptiness of the pretensions of powerful people and institutions are often compared to the child who says that the emperor has no clothes. )(点击The Ugly Duckling后, 插入图片The Ugly Duckling, 出现以下括号内蓝色字体内容)(The mother's first thought, seeing the odd one in the water, is "He is my own child, and he is not so very ugly after all if you look at him properly." The duckling begins in the farmyard with his family, always the last one to get anything, and always taunted and attacked for his looks, then escapes to the moor among wild ducks, witnesses the carnage among wild geese in the hunting season, escapes from becoming an old woman's pet and is all but frozen into the ice. In the spring, the duckling discovers, from seeing his reflection, that he has grown up to be a beautiful swan — the most beautiful of all birds.The Ugly Duckling has become a metaphor for anything neglected continually, or anything neglected at first, then becoming popular or good. For example: "I can't believe Sara's so accomplished now! She used to be such an ugly duckling.")(点击The Princess and the Pea后, 插入图片The Princess and the Pea, 出现以下括号内蓝色字体内容)(A prince insists on marrying a real princess. When a woman comes to his door maintaining that she is a real princess, the prince's mother tests her by burying a pea under a huge stack of mattresses and then ordering the woman to sleep on the mattresses. The woman cannot sleep and therefore passes the test: being a true princess, she is so delicate that the pea keeps her awake.)### 3. Gulliver’s TravelsAbout the Author(点击About the Author后, 插入图片Swift, 出现以下括号内蓝色字体内容)(Jonathan Swift was born in Dublin, Ireland, on November 30, 1667. His childhood was in some ways unusual. As a year-old baby he was brought to England, while his mother remained in Ireland, and when he was brought back to Ireland a year or two later, his mother returned to England, leaving young Jonathan to be raised by his uncle Godwin Swift. Though his parents were poor, young Jonathan was given the best education that could be had in Ireland. At age fourteen in 1682, young Jonathan entered Trinity College in Dublin. Graduating in 1685, when he was eighteen, Swift obtained his Bachelor of Arts degree. Later he moved to England and started a career in the church. He also discovered his remarkable talent as a satirist and began to write on themes that would stay with him throughout his lifetime---corruption, religion, and education. He became active in politics and was a supporter of the Irish resistance to English oppression while stillbeing a devoted member of the Anglican church. He wrote his masterpiece, Gulliver’s Travels, in 1726. When he died in 1745 at the age of 78 he composed his own epitaph for his gravestone which reads: “He has gone where savage indignation can lacerate his heart no more.”)About the novel(点击About the novel后, 插入图片Gulliver并出现以下括号内蓝色字体内容)(Gulliver in the book goes to sea and time and again gets involved in finding himself in strange lands when his ship sinks or some other tragedy befalls him. The first country is that of the Lilliputs who are only about six inches high. The people he encounters are always very different than he is. Swift uses this as a way of exposing to ridicule and satire the stupidities of our society.)## 1. Part Division of the Text## 2. True or False (这部分没有改动)(Directions:) Decide whether the following statements about the text are true of false.1. Luckily, the author was born in a rich family, so he could own quite a lot books in his childhood. (F)(= The author’s parents could not afford to buy her many books, but they carefully selected and ordered what they thought were good for her.)2. Whenever the author and her parents couldn’t agree with each other, they turned to encyclopedia for help. (T)3. The author loved her books so much that every book was kept in very good conditions. (F)(= Some books handed down from her parents were worn-out.)4. The author was grateful to her parents because they had given her enough books to read. (F)(= To the author, she could never have too many books to read.)5. The author could not really hear the sentences while reading. (T)## 3. Further Understanding (这部分没有改动)For Part 1Table Completion(Directions:) In Para 1, Welty gave a vivid description about how her mother had read to her in different time and different places. Summarize thedifferent settings and complete the table. (鼠标点击表格空格处,答案For Part 2Text Analysis(Directions:) In Part 2, Welty listed a lot of books she read in her childhood. These books are not listed at random but arranged in a certain order. Scanthis part again and try to divide the books into four categories and giveFor Part 3Rearrange the Order of the Sentences(Directions:) Reading had enabled Welty to hear a voice when reading. Welty spenta few sentences in clarifying this silent voice to the readers. Here arethe sentences. Put them into the correct order.1. It is human, but inward, and it is inwardly that I listen to it.2. The cadence, whatever it is that asks you to believe, the feeling that resides in the printed word, reaches me through the reader-voice.3. It is to me the voice of the story or the poem itself.4. It isn’t my mother’s voice, or the voice of any person I can identify, certainly not my own.(Key: 4-1-3-2)# Step 3 Detailed Reading## 1. Difficult Sentences(这部分没有改动)## 1. Difficult Sentences1. (LL. 10~11) …once she granted my wish, but she read off my storybefore I brought her butter.Translate the sentence into Chinese.(=有一次她满足了我的愿望,可是在我把黄油弄好之前,她就读完了故事。
Unit 1 Love of readingText A One Writer's Beginnings1 I learned from the age of two or three that any room in our house, at any time of day, was there to read in, or to be read to. My mother read to me. She'd read to me in the big bedroom in the mornings, when we were in her rocker together, which ticked in rhythm as we rocked, as though we had a cricket accompanying the story. She'd read to me in the dining room on winter afternoons in front of the coal fire, with our cuckoo clock ending the story with "Cuckoo", and at night when I'd got in my own bed. I must have given her no peace. Sometimes she read to me in the kitchen while she sat churning, and the churning sobbed along with any story. It was my ambition to have her read to me while I churned; once she granted my wish, but she read off my story before I brought her butter. She was an expressive reader. When she was reading "Puss in Boots," for instance, it was impossible not to know that she distrusted all cats.2 It had been startling and disappointing to me to find out that story books had been written by people, that books were not natural wonders, coming up of themselves like grass. Yet regardless of where they came from, I cannot remember a time when I was not in love with them —with the books themselves, cover and binding and the paper they were printed on, with their smell and their weight and with their possession in my arms, captured and carried off to myself. Still illiterate, I was ready for them, committed to all the reading I could give them.3 Neither of my parents had come from homes that could afford to buy many books, but though it must have been something of a strain on his salary, as the youngest officer in a young insurance company, my father was all the while carefully selecting and ordering away for what he and Mother thought we children should grow up with. They bought first for the future .4 Besides the bookcase in the living room, which was always called "the library", there were the encyclopedia tables and dictionary stand under windows in our dining room. Here to help us grow up arguing around the dining room table were the Unabridged Webster, the Columbia Encyclopedia, Compton's Pictured Encyclopedia, the Lincoln Library of Information, and later the Book of Knowledge. In "the library", inside the bookcase were books I could soon begin on —and I did, reading them all alike and as they came, straight down their rows, top shelf to bottom. My mother read secondarily for information; she sank as a hedonist into novels. She read Dickens in the spirit in which she would have eloped with him. The novels of her girlhood that had stayed on in her imagination, besides those of Dickens and Scott and Robert Louis Stevenson, wereJane Eyre, Trilby, The Woman in White, Green Mansions, King Solomon's Mines.5 To both my parents I owe my early acquaintance with a beloved Mark Twain. There was a full set of Mark Twain and a short set of Ring Lardner in our bookcase, and those were the volumes that in time united us all, parents and children.6 Reading everything that stood before me was how I came upon a worn old book that had belonged to my father as a child. It was called Sanford and Merton. Is there anyone left who recognizes it, I wonder? It is the famous moral tale written by Thomas Day in the 1780s, but of him no mention is made on the title page of this book; here it is Sanford and Merton in Words of One Syllable by Mary Godolphin. Here are the rich boy and the poor boy and Mr. Barlow, their teacher and interlocutor, in long discourses alternating with dramatic scenes —anger and rescue allotted to the rich and the poor respectively. It ends with not one but two morals, both engraved on rings: "Do what you ought, come what may," and "If we would be great, we must first learn to be good."7 This book was lacking its front cover, the back held on by strips of pasted paper, now turned golden, in several layers, and the pages stained, flecked, and tattered around the edges; its garish illustrations had come unattached but were preserved, laid in. I had the feeling even in my heedless childhood that this was the only book my father as a little boy had had of his own. He had held onto it, and might have gone to sleep on its coverless face: he had lost his mother when he was seven. My father had never made any mention to his own children of the book, but he had brought it along with him from Ohio to our house and shelved it in our bookcase.8 My mother had brought from West Virginia that set of Dickens: those books looked sad, too — they had been through fire and water before I was born, she told me, and there they were, lined up — as I later realized, waiting for me.9 I was presented, from as early as I can remember, with books of my own, which appeared on my birthday and Christmas morning. Indeed, my parents could not give me books enough. They must have sacrificed to give me on my sixth or seventh birthday — it was after I became a reader for myself-the ten-volume set of Our Wonder World. These were beautifully made, heavy books I would lie down with on the floor in front of the dining room hearth, and more often than the rest volume 5, Every Child's Story Book, was under my eyes. There were the fairy tales —Grimm, Andersen, the English, the French, "Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves"; and there was Aesop and Reynard the Fox; there were the myths and legends, Robin Hood, King Arthur, and St. George and the Dragon, even the history of Joan of Arc; a whack of Pilgrim's Progress and a long piece of Gulliver. They all carried their classic illustrations. I located myself in these pages andcould go straight to the stories and pictures I loved; very often "The Yellow Dwarf" was first choice, with Walter Crane's Yellow Dwarf in full color making his terrifying appearance flanked by turkeys. Now that volume is as worn and backless and hanging apart as my father's poor Sanford and Merton. One measure of my love for Our Wonder World was that for a long time I wondered if I would go through fire and water for it as my mother had done for Charles Dickens; and the only comfort was to think I could ask my mother to do it for me.10 I believe I'm the only child I know of who grew up with this treasure in the house.I used to ask others, "Did you have Our Wonder World?" I'd have to tell them The Book of Knowledge could not hold a candle to it.11 I live in gratitude to my parents for initiating me —as early as I begged for it, without keeping me waiting — into knowledge of the word, into reading and spelling, by way of the alphabet. They taught it to me at home in time for me to begin to read before starting to school.12 Ever since I was first read to, then started reading to myself, there has never beena line read that I didn't hear. As my eyes followed the sentence, a voice was saying it silently to me. It isn't my mother's voice, or the voice of any person I can identify, certainly not my own. It is human, but inward, and it is inwardly that I listen to it. It is to me the voice of the story or the poem itself. The cadence, whatever it is that asks you to believe, the feeling that resides in the printed word, reaches me through the reader-voice: I have supposed, but never found out, that this is the case with all readers — to read as listeners — and with all writers, to write as listeners. It may be part of the desire to write. The sound of what falls on the page begins the process of testing it for truth , for me. Whether I am right to trust so far I don't know. By now I don't know whether I could do either one, reading or writing, without the other.13 My own words, when I am at work on a story, I hear too as they go, in the same voice that I hear when I read in books. When I write and the sound of it comes back to my ears, then I act to make my changes. I have always trusted this voice.作家起步时我从两三岁起就知道,家中随便在哪个房间里,白天无论在什么时间,都可以念书或听人念书。