everyday use

word格式-可编辑-感谢下载支持From the short story Everyday Use,the majority people seem to like Maggie,but look down upon Dee. In their eyes,M is a sweet,docile,considerate and almost everything she does is worth our tender love.D, on the contrary,epitomize evil,despite her fashionable appearance,being a good-for-nothing. Actually,the two sisters' attitude and behaviour just represent two different ways of how to preserve heritage and art. What way is better is still a question that deserve discussing. So it is not how to treat the quilt makes people like one instead the other,but their personality.I think the reasons why people prefer M to D are as follows. First, most people have the tendency to narcissism,which makes them think they are enough powerful and strong to protect others. Showing sympathy to the vulnerable in some way reflect they are superior and they have basic morality. Second,people are easily to hate the rich,especially the guys who like to show off. The cutup will never be welcomed wherever they go. Third ,people like to go with the crowd in order not to be isolated. We are social animals,which means we are just components of the society and we'd better not show strong individuality. Last but not least,in the traditional view towards women,more understanding,more welcomed. As a women,you'd better act as Lady Be Good,loving families and traditions. All these above decides M will be successful at last,not D.Actually, i appreciate D's courage and bravery against their traditional attitudes. She changes her name into an African one,though it is wrong spelling,showing her determination to pursue what she thinks to be her root,not the half-American one. She is well-educated,can spit lotus from mouth,and follows the step of fashion all the way. She stands out everywhere and seems to be gorgeous and successful. Why does she lose the trust and love of her mother and sister at last?As a matter of fact,both of the two sisters are quite successful,one in the material world,the other spiritual. D reminds me of a movie called The Devil Wears Prada,which tells us a story about a fashionable woman,strong and respectable in appearance but heartbreaking in her heart,for she has been abandoned by her beloved husband. Everyday she pretends to be gorgeous and shining in public,but the moment she goes back home,she weeps due to her loneliness . No one has seen her tears ,no one really understands her,and no one shows sympathy to her,but only loath and hatred . Dee somewhat likes that,from education,appearance to networks and business,she is too much better than M,but it is M wins finally. I think that is why people like snow-white instead her stepmother. It is not only the matter of kindness and evil,but the simple and emotional women are more beautiful in the worldly people's eyes.We can have a lesson from the story in this particular angle,which has been told by LaoTzu.Be as good as water, for Water conserve everything but indisputable. I think that is the philosophy of life:always be smart inside but keep a low profile outside .。

Everyday Use原文+译文Everyday UseAlice WalkerI will wait for her in the yard that Maggie and I made so clean and wy yesterday afternoon. A yard like this is more comfortable than most people know. It is notjust a yard. It is like an extended living room. When the hard clay is swept clean as afloor and the fine sand around the edges lined with tiny, irregular grooves, anyone cancome and sit and look up into the elm tree and wait for the breezes that never comeinside the house.Maggie will be nervous until after her sister goes: she will stand hopelessly in corners,homely and ashamed of the burn scars down her arms and legs, eying her sister with amixture of envy and awe. She thinks her sister has held life always in the palm of onehand, that no is a word the world never learned to say to her.You've no doubt seen those TV shows where the child who has made it isconfronted, as a surprise, by her own mother and father, tottering in weakly frombackstage. (A Pleasant surprise, of course: What would they do if parent and childcame on the showonly to curse out and insult each other?) On TV mother and childembrace and ile into each other's face. Sometimes the mother and father weep, thechild wraps them in her arms and leans across the table to tell how she would not hemade it without their help. I he seen these programs.Sometimes I dream a dream in which Dee and I are suddenly brought together ona TV program of this sort. Out of a cark and soft-seated limousine I am ushered into abright room filled with many people. There I meet a iling, gray, sporty man likeJohnny Carson who shakes my hand and tells me what a fine girl I he. Then we areon the stage and Dee is embracing me with tear s in her eyes. She pins on my dress alarge orchid, even though she has told me once that she thinks or chides are tackyflowers.In real life I am a large, big-boned woman with rough, man-working hands. Inthe winter I wear flannel nightgowns to bed and overalls during the day. I can kill andclean a hog as mercilessly as a man. My fat keeps me hot in zero weather. I can workoutside all day, breaking ice to get water for washing; I can eat pork liver cooked overthe open tire minutes after it comes steaming from the hog. One winter I knocked abull calf straight in the brain betweenthe eyes with a sledge hammer and had the meathung up to chill be-fore nightfall. But of course all this does not show on television. Iam the way my daughter would want me to be: a hundred pounds lighter, my skin likean uncooked barley pan-cake. My hair glistens in the hot bright lights. Johnny Car–son has much to do to keep up with my quick and witty tongue.But that is a mistake. I know even before I wake up. Who ever knew a Johnsonwith a quick tongue? Who can even imagine me looking a strange white man in theeye? It seems to me I he talked to them always with one toot raised in flight, withmy head turned in whichever way is farthest from them. Dee, though. She wouldalways look anyone in the eye. Hesitation was no part of her nature.How do I look, Mama? Maggie says, showing just enough of her thin bodyenveloped in pink skirt and red blouse for me to know she's there, almost hidden bythe door.Come out into the yard, I say.He you ever seen a lame animal, perhaps a dog run over by some carelessperson rich enough to own a car, sidle up to someone who is ignorant enough to bekind of him? That is the way myMaggie walks. She has been like this, chin on chest,eyes on ground, feet in shuffle, ever since the fire that burned the other house to theground.Dee is lighter than Maggie, with nicer hair and a fuller figure. She's a womannow, though sometimes I forget. How long ago was it that the other house burned?Ten, twelve years? Sometimes I can still hear the flames and feel Maggie's armssticking to me, her hair oking and her dress falling off her in little black paperyflakes. Her eyes seemed stretched open, blazed open by the flames reflect-ed in them.And Dee. I see her standing off under the sweet gum tree she used to dig gum out of;a look at concentration on her face as she watched the last dingy gray board of thehouse tall in toward the red-hot brick chimney. Why don't you do a dance around theashes? I'd wanted to ask her. She had hated the house that much.I used to think she hated Maggie, too. But that was before we raised the money,the church and me, to send her to Augusta to school. She used to read to us withoutpity, forcing words, lies, other folks' habits, whole lives upon us two, sitting trappedand ignorant underneath her voice. She washed us in a river of make-believe, burnedus with a lot of knowledge we didn't necessarilyneed to know. Pressed us to her withthe serious way she read, to shove us away at just the moment, like dimwits, weseemed about to understand.Dee wanted nice things. A yellow organdy dress to wear to her graduation fromhigh school; black pumps to match a green suit she'd made from an old suit somebodyge me. She was determined to stare down any disaster in her efforts. Her eyelidswould not flicker for minutes at a time. Often I fought off the temptation to shake her.At six she had a style of her own' and knew what style was.回答人的补充2009-09-30 1:43I never had an education myself. After second grade the school was closed down.Don't ask me why. in 1927 colored asked fewer questions than they do now.Sometimes Maggie reads to me. She stumbles along good-naturedly but can't see well.She knows she is not bright. Like good looks and money, quickness passed her by.She will marry John Thomas (who has mossy teeth in an earnest face) and then I'll befree to sit here and I guess just sing church songs to myself. Although I never was agood singer. Never could carry a tune. I was always better at a man's job. 1 used tolove tomilk till I was hooked in the side in '49. Cows are soothing and slow and don'tbother you, unless you try to milk them the wrong way.I he deliberately turned my back on the house. It is three rooms, just like theone that burned, except the roof is tin: they don't make shingle roofs any more. Thereare no real windows, just some holes cut in the sides, like the portholes in a ship, butnot round and not square, with rawhide holding the shutter s up on the outside. Thishouse is in a pasture, too, like the other one. No doubt when Dee sees it she will wantto tear it down. She wrote me once that no matter where we choose to live, she willmanage to come see us. But she will never bring her friends. Maggie and I thoughtabout this and Maggie asked me, Mama, when did Dee ever he any friends?She had a few. Furtive boys in pink shirts hanging about on washday after school.Nervous girls who never laughed. Impressed with her they worshiped the well-turnedphrase, the cute shape, the scalding humor that erupted like bubbles in lye. She read tothem.When she was courting Jimmy T she didn't he much time to pay to us, butturned all her faultfinding power on him. He flew tomarry a cheap city girl from afamily of ignorant flashy people. She hardly had time to recompose herself.When she comes I will meet -- but there they are!Maggie attempts to make a dash for the house, in her shuffling way, but I stay herwith my hand. Come back here, I say. And she stops and tries to dig a well in thesand with her toe.It is hard to see them clearly through the strong sun. But even the first glimpse ofleg out of the car tells me it is Dee. Her feet were always neat-looking, as it Godhimself had shaped them with a certain style. From the other side of the car comes ashort, stocky man. Hair is all over his head a foot long and hanging from his chin likea kinky mule tail. I hear Maggie suck in her breath. Uhnnnh, is what it sounds like.Like when you see the wriggling end of a snake just in front of your toot on the road.Uhnnnh.Dee next. A dress down to the ground, in this hot weather. A dress so loud ithurts my eyes. There are yel-lows and oranges enough to throw back the light of thesun. I feel my whole face warming from the heat wes it throws out. Earrings gold,too, and hanging down to her shoulders. Bracelets dangling and making noises whenshe moves her arm up to shake the folds of the dressout of her armpits. The dress isloose and flows, and as she walks closer, I like it. I hear Maggie go Uhnnnh again.It is her sister's hair. It stands straight up like the wool on a sheep. It is black as nightand around the edges are two long pigtails that rope about like all lizardsdisappearing behind her ears.Wa-su-zo-Tean-o! she says, coming on in that gliding way the dress makes hermove. The short stocky fellow with the hair to his nel is all grinning and he followsup with Asalamalakim, my mother and sister! He moves to hug Maggie but she fallsback, right up against the back of my chair. I feel her trembling there and when I lookup I see the perspiration falling off her chin.Don't get up, says Dee. Since I am stout it takes something of a push. You cansee me trying to move a second or two before I make it. She turns, showing whiteheels through her sandals, and goes back to the car. Out she peeks next with aPolaroid. She stoops down quickly and lines up picture after picture of me sittingthere in front of the house with Maggie cowering behind me. She never takes a shotwithout making sure the house is included. When a cow comes nibbling around theedge of the yard she snaps it andme and Maggie and the house. Then she puts thePolaroid in the back seat of the car, and comes up and kisses me on the forehead.Meanwhile Asalamalakim is going through motions with Maggie's hand.Maggie's hand is as limp as a fish, and probably as cold, despite the sweat, and shekeeps trying to pull it back. It looks like Asalamalakim wants to shake hands butwants to do it fancy. Or maybe he don't know how people shake hands. Anyhow, hesoon gives up on Maggie.Well, I say. Dee.No, Mama, she says. Not 'Dee', Wangero Leewanika Kemanjo!What happened to 'Dee'? I wanted to know.She's dead, Wangero said. I couldn't bear it any longer, being named after thepeople who oppress me.You know as well as me you was named after your aunt Dicle, I said. Dicie iy sister. She named Dee. We called her Big Dee after Dee was born.But who was she named after? asked Wangero.I guess after Grandma Dee, I said.And who was she named after? asked Wangero.Her mother, I said, and saw Wangero was getting tired. That's about as farback as I can trace it, I said.Though, in fact, I probably could he carried it back beyond the Civil Warthrough the branches.Well, said Asalamalakim, there you are.Uhnnnh, I heard Maggie say.There I was not, I said, before 'Dicie' cropped up in our family, so why shouldI try to trace it that far back?He just stood there grinning, looking down on me like somebody inspecting aModel A car. Every once in a while he and Wangero sent eye signals over my head.How do you pronounce this name? I asked.You don't he to call me by it if you don't want to, said Wangero.Why shouldn't I? I asked. If that's what you want us to call you, we'll call you.I know it might sound awkward at first, said Wangero.I'll get used to it, I said. Ream it out again.Well, soon we got the name out of the way. Asalamalakim had a name twice aslong and three times as hard. After I trippedover it two or three times he told me tojust call him Hakim-a-barber. I wanted to ask him was he a barber, but I didn't reallythink he was, so I don't ask.You must belong to those beet-cattle peoples down the road, I said. They saidAsalamalakirn when they met you too, but they didn't Shake hands. Always toobusy feeding the cattle, fixing the fences, putting up salt-lick shelters, throwing downhay. When the white folks poisoned some of the herd the men stayed up all night withrifles in their hands. I walked a mile and a half just to see the sight.Hakim-a-barber said, I accept some of their doctrines, but farming and raisingcattle is not my style. (They didn't tell me, and I didn't ask, whether Wangero (Dee)had really gone and married him.)We sat down to eat and right away he said he didn't eat collards and pork wasunclean. Wangero, though, went on through the chitlins and corn bread, the greensand every-thing else. She talked a blue streak over the sweet potatoes. Everythingdelighted her. Even the fact that we still used the benches her daddy made for thetable when we couldn't afford to buy chairs.Oh, Mama! she cried. Then turned to Hakim-a-barber. I never knew howlovely these benches are. You can feel the rump prints, she said, running her handsunderneath her and along the bench. Then she ge a sigh and her hand closed overGrandma Dee's butter dish. That's it! she said. I knew there was something Iwanted to ask you if I could he. She jumped up from the table and went over in thecorner where the churn stood, the milk in it clabber by now. She looked at the churnand looked at it.This churn top is what I need, she said. Didn't Uncle Buddy whittle it out of atree you all used to he?Yes, I said.Uh huh, she said happily. And I want the dasher,too.Uncle Buddy whittle that, too? asked the barber.Dee (Wangero) looked up at me.Aunt Dee's first husband whittled the dash, said Maggie so low you almostcouldn't hear her. His name was Henry, but they called him Stash.Maggie's brain is like an elephants, Wanglero said, laughing. I can use thechurn topas a center piece for the alcove table,”she said,sliding a plate over the churn,and I'll think of something artistic to do with the dasher.回答人的补充2009-09-30 1:56When she finished wrapping the dasher the handle stuck out. I took it for a moment inmy hands. You didn't even he to look close to see where hands pushing the dasherup and down to make butter had left a kind of sink in the wood. In fact, there were alot of all sinks; you could see where thumbs and fingers had sunk into the wood. Itwas beautiful light yellow wood, from a tree that grew in the yard where Big Dee andStash had lived.After dinner Dee (Wangero) went to the trunk at the foot of my bed and startedrifling through it. Maggie hung back in the kitchen over the dishpan. Out cameWangero with two quilts. They had been pieced by Grandma Dee and then Big Deeand me had hung them on the quilt frames on the front porch and quilted them. Onewas in the Lone Star pattern. The other was Walk Around the Mountain. In both ofthem were scraps of dresses Grandma Dee had worn fifty and more years ago. Bitsand pieces of Grandpa Jarrell's Paisley shirts. And one y faded blue piece, aboutthe size ofa penny matchbox, that was from Great Grandpa Ezra's uniform that hewore in the Civil War.Mama, Wangero said sweet as a bird. Can I he these old quilts?I heard something fall in the kitchen, and a minute later the kitchen doorslammed.Why don't you take one or two of the others?” 1 asked. These old things wasjust done by me and Big Dee from some tops your grandma pieced before she died.No, said Wangero. I don't want those. They are stitched around the borders bymachine.That'll make them last better, I said.That's not the point, said Wanglero. These are all pieces of dresses Grandmaused to wear. She did all this stitching by hand. Imagine! She held the quilts securelyin her arms, stroking them.Some of the pieces, like those lender ones, come from old clothes her motherhanded down to her,” I said, mov ing up to touch the quilts. Dee (Wangero) movedback just enough so that I couldn't reach the quilts. They already belonged to her.Imagine! she breathed again, clutching them closely to her bosom.The truth is, I said, I promised to give them quilts to Maggie, for when shemarries John Thomas.She gasped like a bee had stung her.Maggie can't appreciate these quilts! she said. She'd probably be backwardenough to put them to everyday use.I reckon she would, I said. God knows I been sage ’em for long enoughwit h nobody using 'em. I hope she will! ” I didn't want to bring up how I had offeredDee (Wangero) a quilt when she went away to college. Then she had told me theywere old-fashioned, out of style.But they're priceless! she was saying now, furiously, for she has a temper.Maggie would put them on the bed and in five years they'd be in rags. Less thanthat! She can always make some more,”I said. Maggie knows how to quilt.Dee (Wangero) looked at me with hatred. You just will not understand. Thepoint is these quilts, these quilts!Well, I said,, stumped. What would you do with them?Hang them, she said. As it that was the only thing you could do with quilts.Maggie by now was standing in the door. I could almost hear the sound her feetmade as they scraped over each other.She can he them, Mama,” she said like somebody used to never winninganything, or hing anything reserved for her. I can 'member Grandma Dee withoutthe quilts.I looked at her hard. She had filled her bottom lip with checkerberry snuff and itge her face a kind of dopey, hangdog look. It was Grandma Dee and Big Dee whotaught her how to quilt herself. She stood there with her scarred hands hidden in thefolds of her skirt. She looked at her sister with something like fear but she wasn't madat her. This was Maggie's portion. This was the way she knew God to work.When I looked at her like that something hit me in the top of my head and randown to the soles of my feet. Just like when I'm in church and the spirit of Godtouches me and I get happy and shout.I did something I never had done Maggie to me, then dragged her on into the room, snatched the quilts out ofMiss Wangero's hands and dumped them into Maggie's lap. Maggie just sat there onmy bed with her mouth open.Take one or two of the others, I said to Dee.But she turned without a word and went out to Hakim-a-barber.You just don't understand, she said, as Maggie and I came out to the car.What don't I under stand? I wanted to know.Your heritage, she said. And then she turned to Maggie, kissed her, and said,You ought to try to make some-thing of yourself, too, Maggie. It's really a new dayfor us. But from the way you and Mama still live you'd never know it.She put on some sunglasses that hid everything above the tip of her nose and herchin.Maggie iled; maybe at the sunglasses. But a real mile, not scared. After wewatched the car dust settle I asked Maggie to bring me a dip of snuff. And then thetwo of us sat there just enjoying, until it was time to go in the house and go to bed.NOTES1) Alice Walker: born 1944 in Eatonton, Georgia, America and graduated from SarahLawrence College. Her books include The Third Life of Grange Copeland ( 1970 ),Meridian ( 1976 ), The Color Purple(192), etc.2)made it: to become a success, to succeed, either in specific endeor or in general3) Johnny Carson: a man who runs a late night talk show4)hooked: injured by the horn of the cow being milked5) Jimmy T: 'T' is the initial of the surname of the boy Dee was courting.6)Wa-su-zo-Tean-o!: phonetic rendering of an African dialect salutation7) Asalamalakim: phonetic rendering of a Muslim greeting) Polaroid: a camera that produces instant pictures9) the Civil War: the war between the North and the South in the U. S.(161-165)10) branches: branches or divisions of a family descending from a common ances11) Ream it out again: Ream is perhaps an African dialect word meaning: unfold,display. Hence the phrase may mean repeat or say it once again12) pork was unclean: Muslims are forbidden by their religion to eat pork because it isconsidered to be unclean.13) Chitlins: also chitlings or chitterlings, the all inines of pigs, used for food, acommon dish in Afro-American households14) rump prints: depressions in the benches made by constant sitting15) sink: depressions in the wood of the handle left by the thumbs and fingers外婆的日用家当艾丽斯•沃克尔我就在这院子里等候她的到来。

高级英语everyday use读后感The Advanced English textbook "Everyday Use" by Alice Walker is a poignant and thought-provoking exploration of the complexities of cultural identity and the intergenerational dynamics within a family. Through the lens of a mother's narrative, the story delves into the nuanced relationships between a mother, her two daughters, and the significance of their shared heritage.At the heart of the narrative lies the contrast between the sisters Dee and Maggie, each representing distinct approaches to embracing their cultural roots. Dee, the older and more educated sister, returns home with a newfound appreciation for her African heritage, eager to claim and display the family's heirlooms as symbols of her newfound cultural identity. In stark contrast, Maggie, the younger sister, is portrayed as more grounded and comfortable in her own skin, having endured the scars of a house fire that left her physically and emotionally scarred.The mother, the narrator of the story, finds herself caught in the middle of this cultural tug-of-war, grappling with her own sense ofidentity and the desire to preserve the family's legacy. As Dee arrives home, the mother is confronted with the realization that her daughters have grown up to embody vastly different perspectives on their shared heritage. Dee's academic and intellectual approach to her cultural identity stands in stark opposition to Maggie's more intuitive and practical understanding of their family's history.One of the most poignant aspects of the story is the mother's own journey of self-discovery. Throughout the narrative, the reader is privy to the mother's internal contemplations, her own struggles to reconcile her daughters' divergent paths and her desire to honor the family's traditions. The mother's role as the custodian of the family's heirlooms becomes a central theme, as she must navigate the delicate balance between preserving the past and allowing her daughters to forge their own connections with their heritage.The character of Dee, in particular, serves as a complex and multifaceted representation of the challenges inherent in the pursuit of cultural identity. Her eagerness to claim the family's quilts and other heirlooms is driven by a desire to assert her newfound appreciation for her African roots, yet her approach is often perceived as overbearing and disconnected from the practical realities of her family's lived experiences. The mother's reluctance to hand over the quilts to Dee is a poignant moment, as she recognizes the deeper significance of these objects to the family's history andthe importance of preserving their practical purpose.Maggie, on the other hand, embodies a more grounded and organic connection to the family's heritage. Her scars, both physical and emotional, serve as a testament to the hardships her family has endured, and her quiet acceptance of her role in the family's legacy is a powerful counterpoint to Dee's more ostentatious approach. The mother's decision to gift the quilts to Maggie, rather than Dee, becomes a powerful statement about the true meaning of cultural identity and the importance of honoring the lived experiences of one's family.Throughout the narrative, the reader is invited to grapple with the complexities of cultural identity and the ways in which it is shaped by our personal experiences, our relationships, and our understanding of our shared history. The story challenges the reader to consider the nuances of cultural preservation and the potential pitfalls of a purely academic or intellectual approach to one's heritage.In the end, "Everyday Use" emerges as a poignant and deeply resonant exploration of the human experience, touching upon universal themes of family, identity, and the search for meaning in a rapidly changing world. The story's enduring relevance lies in its ability to transcend the specific cultural context and to speak to theuniversal human desire to connect with our roots and to find our place in the broader tapestry of human experience.。

高级英语everyday use读后感"Everyday Use" is a short story by Alice Walker that explores themes of identity, culture, and tradition. Set in the rural South of the United States, the story centers around a family's interaction with their visiting cousin, Dee, who has embraced a more modern and urban lifestyle. Through Dee's visit, the story highlights the contrast between traditional African American culture and the allure of modernity, particularly as seen through Dee's desire to claim certain cultural artifacts as her own.The narrative is primarily told through the eyes of the story's protagonist, Maggie, a younger sister who finds herself caught between her older sister's aspirations and her mother's传统观念. Maggie's internal conflict reflects the tension that often exists within families when generational divides are exposed. Dee, with her newfound interest in African American heritage, wants to take possession of her ancestors' quilts, symbols of their hard work and craftsmanship. However, these quilts hold deeper cultural and emotional value for Maggie's mother, who madethem herself, and for Maggie, who identifies with them as a part of her heritage.Walker's exploration of the theme of identity is particularly poignant in this story. Dee's embrace ofAfrican American culture seems superficial, motivated more by a desire to fit in with a certain social group than by a true understanding and appreciation of the culture's deeper meanings. By contrast, Maggie's connection to her heritageis more authentic, rooted in her personal experiences and memories. This contrast highlights the importance of understanding one's identity not just as a product of external factors but also as a result of internal processes of self-discovery and self-understanding.The story also raises questions about the role of tradition in shaping individual and collective identities. Dee's rejection of her family's traditional way of life and her embrace of a more urban, modern identity reflect the influence of external forces on individual choices. However, Maggie's reluctance to give up the quilts, despite Dee's offers of more "practical" gifts, suggests that traditioncan also serve as a powerful anchor, grounding individuals in their cultural heritage.Walker's use of symbolism in "Everyday Use" is also noteworthy. The quilts, which Dee desires so eagerly, serve as symbols not only of craftsmanship but also of the older generation's wisdom and experience. By refusing to give up the quilts, Maggie's mother and Maggie herself are effectively rejecting Dee's shallow understanding of her heritage and affirming their own deeper connection to it. In conclusion, "Everyday Use" is a profound exploration of identity, culture, and tradition. Through the contrasting narratives of Dee and Maggie, Walker challenges readers to consider the complexity of identity formation and the role of tradition in shaping it. The story encourages us to question our own assumptions aboutidentity and heritage, and to embrace the rich tapestry of our cultural backgrounds with pride and respect.**《日常用品》读后感**《日常用品》是爱丽丝·沃克的一篇短篇小说，探讨了身份、文化和传统等主题。