新视野大学英语第二版第四册读写教程课文原文SectionA

Unit2

He was born in a poor area of South London. He wore his mother's old red stockings cut down for ankle socks. His mother was temporarily declared mad.Dickens might have created Charlie Chaplin's childhood. But only Charlie Chaplin could have created the great comic character of "the Tramp", the little man in rags who gave his creator permanent fame.

Other countries—France, Italy, Spain, even Japan—have provided more applause (and profit) where Chaplin is concerned than the land of his birth.Chaplin quit Britain for good in 1913 when he journeyed to America with a group of performers to do his comedy act on the stage, where talent scouts recruited him to work for Mack Sennett, the king of Hollywood comedy films.

Sad to say, many English people in the 1920s and 1930s thought Chaplin's Tramp a bit, well, "crude". Certainly middle-class audiences did; the working-class audiences were more likely to clap for a character who revolted against authority, using his wicked little cane to trip it up, or aiming the heel of his boot for a well-placed kick at its broad rear. All the same, Chaplin's comic beggar didn't seem all that English or even working-class. English tramps didn't sport tiny moustaches, huge pants or tail coats: European leaders and Italian waiters wore things like that. Then again, the Tramp's quick eye for a pretty girl had a coarse way about it that was considered, well, not quite nice by English audiences—that's how foreigners behaved, wasn't it? But for over half of his screen career, Chaplin had no screen voice to confirm his British nationality.

Indeed, it was a headache for Chaplin when he could no longer resist the talking movies and had to find "the right voice" for his Tramp. He postponed that day as long as possible: In Modern Times in 1936, the first film in which he was heard as a singing waiter, he made up a nonsense language which sounded like no known nationality. He later said he imagined the Tramp to be a college-educated gentleman who'd come down in the world. But if he'd been able to speak with an educated accent in those early short comedies, it's doubtful if he would have achieved world fame. And the English would have been sure to find it "odd". No one was certain whether Chaplin did it on purpose but this helped to bring about his huge success.

He was an immensely talented man, determined to a degree unusual even in the ranks of Hollywood stars. His huge fame gave him the freedom—and, more importantly, the money—to be his own master. He already had the urge to explore and extend a talent he discovered in himself as he went along. "It can't be me. Is that possible? How extraordinary," is how he greeted the first sight of himself as the Tramp on the screen.

But that shock roused his imagination. Chaplin didn't have his jokes written into a script in advance; he was the kind of comic who used his physical senses to invent his art as he went along. Lifeless objects especially helped Chaplin make "contact" with himself as an artist. He turned them into other kinds of objects. Thus, a broken alarm clock in the movie The Pawnbroker became a "sick" patient undergoing surgery; boots were boiled in his film The Gold Rush and their soles eaten with salt and pepper like prime cuts of fish (the nails being removed like fish bones). This physical transformation, plus the skill with which he executed it again and again, is surely the secret of Chaplin's great comedy.

He also had a deep need to be loved—and a corresponding fear of being betrayed.

The two were hard to combine and sometimes—as in his early marriages—the collision between them resulted in disaster. Yet even this painfully-bought self-knowledge found its way into his comic creations. The Tramp never loses his faith in the flower girl who'll be waiting to walk into the sunset with him; while the other side of Chaplin makes Monsieur Verdoux, the French wife killer, into a symbol of hatred for women.

It's a relief to know that life eventually gave Charlie Chaplin the stability and happiness it had earlier denied him. In Oona O'Neill Chaplin, he found a partner whose stability and affection spanned the 37 years age difference between them, which had seemed so threatening, that when the official who was marrying them in 1942 turned to the beautiful girl of 17 who'd given notice of their wedding date, he said, "And where is the young man? "—Chaplin, then 54, had cautiously waited outside. As Oona herself was the child of a large family with its own problems, she was well prepared for the battle that Chaplin's life became as many unfounded rumors surrounded them both—and, later on, she was the center of calm in the quarrels that Chaplin sometimes sparked in his own large family of talented children.

Chaplin died on Christmas Day 1977.

A few months later, a couple of almost comic body thieves stole his body from the family burial chamber and held it for money. The police recovered it with more efficiency than Mack Sennett's clumsy Keystone Cops would have done, but one can't help feeling Chaplin would have regarded this strange incident as a fitting memorial—his way of having the last laugh on a world to which he had given so many.

Unit3

A welfare client is supposed to cheat.

Everybody expects it. Faced with sharing

a dinner of raw pet food with the cat, many

people in wheelchairs I know bleed the

system for a few extra dollars. They tell

the government that they are getting two

hundred dollars less than their real

pension so they can get a little extra

welfare money. Or, they tell the

caseworker that the landlord raised the

rent by a hundred dollars.

I have opted to live a life of

complete honesty. So instead, I go out and

drum up some business and draw cartoons.

I even tell welfare how much I make! Oh,

I'm tempted to get paid under the table.

But even if I yielded to that temptation,

big magazines are not going to get

involved in some sticky situation. They

keep my records, and that information

goes right into the government's computer.

Very high-profile.

As a welfare client I'm expected to

bow before the caseworker. Deep down,

caseworkers know that they are being made

fools of by many of their clients, and

they feel they are entitled to have

clients bow to them as compensation. I'm

not being bitter. Most caseworkers begin

as college-educated liberals with high

ideals. But after a few years in a system

that practically requires people to lie,

they become like the one I shall call

"Suzanne", a detective in shorts.

Not long after Christmas last year,

Suzanne came to inspect my apartment and

saw some new posters pasted on the wall.

"Where'd you get the money for those? "

she wanted to know.

"Friends and family."

"Well, you'd better have a receipt

for it, by God. You have to report any

donations or gifts."

This was my cue to beg. Instead, I

talked back. "I got a cigarette from

somebody on the street the other day. Do

I have to report that? "

"Well, I'm sorry, but I don't make

the rules, Mr. Callahan."

Suzanne tries to lecture me about

repairs to my wheelchair, which is always

breaking down because welfare won't spend

money maintaining it properly."You know,

Mr. Callahan, I've heard that you put a

lot more miles on that wheelchair than

average."

Of course I do. I'm an active worker,

not a vegetable. I live near downtown, so

I can get around in a wheelchair. I wonder

what she'd think if she suddenly broke her

hip and had to crawl to work.

Government cuts in welfare have

resulted in hunger and suffering for a lot

of people, not just me. But people with

spinal cord injuries felt the cuts in a

unique way: The government stopped taking

care of our chairs. Each time mine broke

down, lost a screw, needed a new roller

bearing, the brake wouldn't work, etc.,

and I called Suzanne, I had to endure a

little lecture.Finally, she'd say, "Well,

if I can find time today, I'll call the

medical worker."

She was supposed to notify the

medical worker, who would certify that

there was a problem. Then the medical

worker called the wheelchair repair

companies to get the cheapest bid. Then

the medical worker alerted the main

welfare office at the state capital. They

considered the matter for days while I lay

in bed, unable to move. Finally, if I was

lucky, they called back and approved the

repair.

When welfare learned I was making

money on my cartoons, Suzanne started

"visiting" every fortnight instead of

every two months. She looked into every

corner in search of unreported appliances,

or maids, or a roast pig in the oven, or

a new helicopter parked out back. She

never found anything, but there was

always a thick pile of forms to fill out

at the end of each visit, accounting for

every penny.

There is no provision in the law for

a gradual shift away from welfare. I am

an independent businessman, slowly

building up my market. It's impossible to

jump off welfare and suddenly be making

two thousand dollars a month. But I would

love to be able to pay for some of my

living and not have to go through an

embarrassing situation every time I need

a spare part for my wheelchair.

There needs to be a lawyer who can

act as a champion for the rights of

welfare clients, because the system so

easily lends itself to abuse by the

welfare givers as well as by the clients.

Welfare sent Suzanne to look around in my

apartment the other day because the

chemist said I was using a larger than

usual amount of medical supplies. I was,

indeed: The hole that has been surgically

cut to drain urine had changed size and

the connection to my urine bag was

leaking.

While she was taking notes, my phone

rang and Suzanne answered it. The caller

was a state senator, which scared Suzanne

a little. Would I sit on the governor's

committee and try to do something about

the thousands of welfare clients who,

like me, could earn part or all of their

own livings if they were allowed to do so,

one step at a time?

Hell, yes, I would! Someday people

like me will thrive under a new system

that will encourage them, not seek to

convict them of cheating. They will be

free to develop their talents without

guilt or fear—or just hold a good, steady

job.

Unit4

A transformation is occurring that

should greatly boost living standards in

the developing world. Places that until

recently were deaf and dumb are rapidly

acquiring up-to-date telecommunications

that will let them promote both internal

and foreign investment. It may take a

decade for many countries in Asia, Latin

America, and Eastern Europe to improve

transportation, power supplies, and

other utilities. But a single optical

fiber with a diameter of less than half

a millimete can carry more information

than a large cable made of coppe wires.

By installing optical fiber, digital

switches, and the latest wireless

transmission systems, a parade of urban

centers and industrial zones from Beijing

to Budapest are stepping directly into

the Information Age. A spider's web of

digital and wireless communication links

is already reaching most of Asia and parts

of Eastern Europe.

All these developing regions see

advanced communications as a way to leap

over whole stages of economic development.

Widespread access to information

technologies, for example, promises to

condense the time required to change from

labor-intensive assembly work to

industries that involve engineering,

marketing, and design. Modern

communications "will give countries like

China and Vietnam a huge advantage over

countries stuck with old technology".

How fast these nations should push

ahead is a matter of debate. Many experts

think Vietnam is going too far by

requiring that all mobile phones be

expensive digital models, when it is

desperate for any phones, period. "These

countries lack experience in weighing

costs and choosing between

technologies," says one expert.

Still, there's little dispute that

communications will be a key factor

separating the winners from the losers.

Consider Russia. Because of its strong

educational system in mathematics and

science, it should thrive in the

Information Age.The problem is its

national phone system is a rusting antiqu

that dates from the l930s. To lick this

problem, Russia is starting to install

optical fiber and has a strategic plan to

pump $40 billion into various

communications projects.But its economy

is stuck in recession and it barely has

the money to even scratch the surface of

the problem.

Compare that with the mainland of

China. Over the next decade, it plans to

pour some $100 billion into

telecommunications equipment. In a way,

China's backwardness is an advantage,

because the expansion occurs just as new

technologies are becoming cheaper than

copper wire systems. By the end of 1995,

each of China's provincial capitals

except for Lhasa will have digital

switches and high-capacity optical fiber

links. This means that major cities are

getting the basic infrastructure to

become major parts of the information

superhighway, allowing people to log on

to the most advanced services available

Telecommunications is also a key to

Shanghai's dream of becoming a top

financial center.

To offer peak performance in

providing the electronic data and

paperless trading global investors

expect, Shanghai plans

telecommunications networks as powerful

as those in Manhattan.

Meanwhile, Hungary also hopes to

jump into the modern world. Currently,

700,000 Hungarians are waiting for phones.

To partially overcome the problem of

funds and to speed the import of Western

technology, Hungary sold a 30% stake in

its national phone company to two Western

companies.To further reduce the waiting

list for phones, Hungary has leased

rights to a Dutch-Scandinavian group of

companies to build and operate what it

says will be one of the most advanced

digital mobile phone systems in the

world.In fact, wireless is one of the most

popularways to get a phone system up fast

in developing countries. It's cheaper to

build radio towers than to string lines

across mountain ridges, and businesses

eager for reliable service are willing to

accept a significantly higher price tag

for a wireless call—the fee is typically

two to four times as much as for calls made

over fixed lines.

Wireless demand and usage have also

exploded across the entire width and

breadth of Latin America. For wireless

phone service providers, nowhere is

business better than in Latin

America—having an operation there is

like having an endless pile of money at

your disposal. Bellsouth Corporation,

with operations in four wireless markets,

estimates its annual revenu per average

customer at about $2,000 as compared to

$860 in the United States. That's partly

because Latin American customers talk two

to four times as long on the phone as

people in North America.

Thailand is also turning to wireless,

as a way to allow Thais to make better use

of all the time they spend stuck in

traffic. And it isn't that easy to call

or fax from the office: The waiting list

for phone lines has from one to two

million names on it. So mobile phones have

become the rage among businesspeople who

can remain in contact despite the traffic

jams.

Vietnam is making one of the boldest

leaps. Despite a per person income of just

$220 a year, all of the 300,000 lines

Vietnam plans to add annually will be

optical fiber with digital switching,

rather than cheaper systems that send

electrons over copper wires. By going for

next-generation technology now,

Vietnamese telecommunications officials

say they'll be able to keep pace with

anyone in Asia for decades.

For countries that have lagged behind

for so long, the temptation to move ahead

in one jump is hard to resist. And despite

the mistakes they'll make, they'll

persist—so that one day they can cruise

alongside Americans and Western

Europeans on the information

superhighway.

Unit5

Here we are, all by ourselves, all

22 million of us by recent count, alone

in our rooms, some of us liking it that

way and some of us not. Some of us

divorced, some widowed, some never yet

committed.

Loneliness may be a sort of

national disease here, and it's more

embarrassing for us to admit than any

other sin. On the other hand, to be

alone on purpose, having rejected

company rather than been cast out by it,

is one characteristic of an American

hero. The solitary hunter or explorer

needs no one as they venture out among

the deer and wolves to tame the great

wild areas. Thoreau, alone in his cabin

on the pond, his back deliberately

turned to the town. Now, that's

character for you.

Inspiration in solitude is a major

commodity for poets and philosophers.

They're all for it. They all speak

highly of themselves for seeking it out,

at least for an hour or even two before

they hurry home for tea.

Para4 Consider Dorothy Wordsworth,

for instance, helping her brother

William put on his coat, finding his

notebook and pencil for him, and waving

as he sets forth into the early spring

sunlight to look at flowers all by

himself. "How graceful, how benign, is

solitude," he wrote.

No doubt about it, solitude is

improved by being voluntary.

Look at Milton's daughters

arranging his cushions and blankets

before they silently creep away, so he

can create poetry. Then, rather than

trouble to put it in his own handwriting,

he calls the girls to come back and

write it down while he dictates.

You may have noticed that most of

these artistic types went outdoors to

be alone.

The indoors was full of loved ones

keeping the kettle warm till they came

home.

The American high priest of

solitude was Thoreau. We admire him,

not for his self-reliance, but because

he was all by himself out there at

Walden Pond, and he wanted to be—all

alone in the woods.

Actually, he lived a mile, or 20

minutes' walk, from his nearest

neighbor; half a mile from the railroad;

three hundred yards from a busy road.

He had company in and out of the hut all

day, asking him how he could possibly

be so noble. Apparently the main point

of his nobility was that he had neither

wife nor servants, used his own axe to

chop his own wood, and washed his own

cups and saucers. don't know who did his

laundry; he doesn't say, but he

certainly doesn't mention doing his own,

either. Listen to him: "I never found

the companion that was so companionable

as solitude."

Thoreau had his own

self-importance for company. Perhaps

there's a message here: The larger the

ego, the less the need for other egos

around. The more modest and humble we

feel, the more we suffer from solitude,

feeling ourselves inadequate company.

If you live with other people,

their temporary absence can be

refreshing.

Solitude will end on Thursday. If

today I use a singular personal pronoun

to refer to myself, next week I will use

the plural form. While the others are

absent you can stretch out your soul

until it fills up the whole room, and

use your freedom, coming and going as

you please without apology, staying up

late to read, soakin in the bath, eating

a whole pint of ice cream at one sitting,

moving at your own pace. Those absent

will be back. Their waterproof winter

coats are in the closet and the dog

keeps watching for them at the window.

But when you live alone, the temporary

absence of your friends and

acquaintances leaves a vacuum; they may

never come back.

The condition of loneliness rises

and falls, but the need to talk goes on

forever.

It's more basic than needing to

listen. Oh, we all have friends we can

tell important things to, people we can

call to say we lost our job or fell on

a slippery floor and broke our arm.

It's the daily succession of small

complaints and observations and

opinions that backs up and chokes us.

We can't really call a friend to say we

got a parcel from our sister, or it's

getting dark earlier now, or we don't

trust that new Supreme Court justice.

Scientific surveys show that we

who live alone talk at length to

ourselves and our pets and the

television. We ask the cat whether we

should wear the blue suit or the yellow

dress.

We ask the parrot if we should

prepare steak, or noodles for, dinner.

We argue with ourselves over who is the

greater sportsman: that figure skater

or this skier. There's nothing wrong

with this.It's good for us, and a lot

less embarrassing than the woman in

front of us in line at the market who's

telling the cashier that her niece

Melissa may be coming to visit on

Saturday, and Melissa is very fond of

hot chocolate, which is why she bought

the powdered hot chocolate mix, though

she never drinks it herself.

It's important to stay rational.

It's important to stop waiting and

settle down and make ourselves

comfortable, at least temporarily, and

find some grace and pleasure in our

condition, not like a self-centered

British poet but like a patient

princess sealed up in a tower, waiting

for the happy ending to our fairy tale.

After all, here we are. It may not

be where we expected to be, but for the

time being we might as well call it home.

Anyway, there is no place like home.