正文

Part One Essential Elements of Short Stories

英美短篇小说解析 作者:张军丽,李娜,张亮 编


Part One
Essential Elements of Short Stories

Chapter One Plot

Definition of Plot

The plot is how the author arranges events to develop his basic idea. In other words,what is more important for a writer is not the simple setting down of events,but rather the arrangement of those events according to the causal relationships. Hence,a plot is a plan or groundwork for a story,based on conflicting motivation,with the actions resulting from believable and realistic human response.

Plot vs Story

Without a plot,we do not have a story. It is the sequence of events in a story or play. The plot is a planned,logical series of events having a beginning,middle,and end. The short story usually has one plot so it can be read in one sitting.

Conflict in Plot

Conflict is essential to plot. Without conflict there is no plot. It is the opposition of forces which ties one incident to another and makes the plot move. Conflict is not merely limited to open arguments; rather it is any form of opposition that faces the main character. Within a short story there may be only one central struggle,or one dominant struggle with many minor ones.

Classification of Conflicts

◆ External Conflict

A struggle between a character and an outside force is an external conflict,say,physical confrontation. It may take the form of a basic opposition between man and nature,as is the case in Ernest Hemingway’s The Old Man and the Sea,or between man and society,for instance,Theodore Dreiser’s An American Tragedy,or between man and man,as it does in Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s detective story,in which Sherlock Holmes is asked to match wits with a cunning criminal or as in the case in Pride and Prejudice,the opposition between the protagonist Mr. Darcy and Wickham’s false account of him and Elizabeth’s own prejudice.

◆ Internal Conflict

A struggle that takes place in a character’s mind is called an internal conflict. It focuses on two or more elements contesting within the protagonist’s own character. That is to say,a character may have to decide between right and wrong or between two solutions to a problem,or must deal with his or her own mixed feelings or emotions,as is the case in Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness.

Development of Plot

◆ Exposition

Exposition is the beginning of the story where the author provides the necessary background information of the story,describes the setting,and introduces characters. It helps the reader make sense of the action that occurs later in the story.

◆ Complication

Complication is also referred to as the rising action,in which the events in the story become complicated and the conflict in the story is revealed (events between the introduction and climax).

◆ Crisis

Crisis,also referred to as the climax,is the highest point of interest and turning point of the story. The reader wonders what will happen next and whether the conflict will be resolved or not.

◆ Falling Action

Falling action is the moment when the events and complications begin to resolve themselves. The reader knows what has happened next and whether the conflict was resolved or not (events between climax and resolution).

◆ Resolution

Resolution,also referred to as the conclusion or denouement,is the final outcome or untangling of events in the story,where the complications are resolved and the outcome of the conflict is reached.

Terms Related to Plot

◆ Flashback

It is also called retrospect,the most frequently used device for a writer to interrupt a chronologically ordered plot,through which a writer can bring in the past whenever it is most relevant to the present. For instance,Mary Gavell’s The Swing,in which a lot of flashbacks—memories of the past life are employed in the very beginning.

◆ Foreshadowing

A device of equal importance in writing,by which a writer prepares the reader for what is yet to happen by presenting some details implying the direction the story will take. Hence a device most often seen in detective stories as “clues or hints” as is the case in Somerset Maugham’s Mr. Know-all.

◆ Suspense

A sense of anticipation or worry that the author instills in readers. M.H. Abrams,quoted on A Teacher Writes,defined suspense as “a lack of certainty,on the part of a concerned reader,about what is going to happen.” As Daphne Du Maurier does in her masterpiece—Rebecca,a lot of suspenseful and secretive atmosphere is produced to create the intense and expectant uncertainty as to the outcome of the story.

◆ Subplot

A sequence of events distinct,at least in part,from the main plot. In most cases,the subplot is closely related to the main plot,and used as an analogy to the main plot,as is the case in Kate Chopin’s The Story of an Hour.

Story One After Twenty Years (1906)

About the Author

O. Henry (1862—1910),the pseudonym of William Sydney Porter,was an American short story writer,whose stories are known for their surprise endings and witty narration. In his day he was called the American answer to Guy de Maupassant. While both authors wrote plot twist endings,O. Henry’s stories were considerably more playful. Most of O. Henry’s stories are set in his own time,the early 20th century. Many took place in New York City and dealt for the most part with ordinary people: policemen,waitresses,etc. O. Henry’s work is wide-ranging,and his characters can be found roaming the cattle-lands of Texas,exploring the art of the con man,or investigating the tensions of class and wealth in turn-of-the-century New York. O. Henry had an inimitable hand for isolating some element of society and describing it with an incredible economy and grace of language. Some of his best and least-known work is contained in Cabbages and Kings,a series of stories which explore some individual aspects of life in a paralytically sleepy Central American town,while advancing some aspects of the larger plot and relating back one to another. Among his most famous stories are “the Gift of Magi”,“the Last Leaf”,“the Ransom of Red Chief”,“The Cop and the Anthem”,“A Retrieved Reformation”,“The Caballero’s Way”,etc. In 1918,The O. Henry Award was first presented and funded by the Society of Arts and Sciences. Now it is a prestigious annual prize given to short stories of exceptional merits.

Tips for Reading

“After Twenty Years” is frequently included in anthologies of short stories. It was originally published in O. Henry’s 1906 collection The Four Million. The skill of the legendary master of the twist ending in short stories is perhaps nowhere better exemplified than in “After Twenty Years”. The story centers on the main plot in which two old friends made a pact to meet at a specific time and place. Bob,a noted criminal from Chicago,arrives on time and speaks to a patrolman who happens to be walking by. Later,it’s revealed that this patrolman was Jimmy Wells,Bob’s friend for whom he’s been waiting. The story contains many memories of the past old days,which manifest scenes during the twenty years and enhance the suspense of the plot accordingly. Friendship is at the heart of the story. O. Henry puts the focus on the friendship between Bob and Jimmy,keeping readers interested in the fact that their relationship could survive even though they have not been in contact for such a long time. However,what makes the story extraordinary is the plot twist,which usually happens near the end of the story,especially if it changes one’s view of the preceding events,is known as a surprise ending. “After Twenty Years” presents an unexpected conclusion with a note from Jimmy to Bob. It turns out that Jimmy is the patrolman who talked a lot with Bob without being recognized. As an old friend,Jimmy cannot but send another one to arrest Bob,the criminal wanted for some time.

The Story

The policeman on the beat moved up the avenue impressively. The impressiveness was habitual and not for show,for spectators were few. The time was barely 10 o’clock at night,but chilly gusts of wind with a taste of rain in them had well nigh de-peopled the streets.

Trying doors as he went,twirling his club with many intricate and artful movements,turning now and then to cast his watchful eye adown the pacific thoroughfare,the officer,with his stalwart form and slight swagger,made a fine picture of a guardian of the peace. The vicinity was one that kept early hours. Now and then you might see the lights of a cigar store or of an all-night lunch counter; but the majority of the doors belonged to business places that had long since been closed.

When about midway of a certain block the policeman suddenly slowed his walk. In the doorway of a darkened hardware store a man leaned,with an unlighted cigar in his mouth. As the policeman walked up to him the man spoke up quickly.

“It’s all right,officer,” he said,reassuringly. “I’m just waiting for a friend. It’s an appointment made twenty years ago. Sounds a little funny to you,doesn’t it?Well,I’ll explain if you’d like to make certain it’s all straight . About that long ago there used to be a restaurant where this store stands—‘Big Joe’ Brady’s restaurant.”

“Until five years ago,” said the policeman. “It was torn down then.”

The man in the doorway struck a match and lit his cigar. The light showed a pale,square-jawed face with keen eyes,and a little white scar near his right eyebrow. His scarf pin was a large diamond,oddly set.

“Twenty years ago to-night,” said the man,“I dined here at ‘Big Joe’ Brady’s with Jimmy Wells,my best chum,and the finest chap in the world. He and I were raised here in New York,just like two brothers,together. I was eighteen and Jimmy was twenty. The next morning I was to start for the West to make my fortune. You couldn’t have dragged Jimmy out of New York; he thought it was the only place on earth. Well,we agreed that night that we would meet here again exactly twenty years from that date and time,no matter what our conditions might be or from what distance we might have to come. We figured that in twenty years each of us ought to have our destiny worked out and our fortunes made,whatever they were going to be.”

“It sounds pretty interesting,” said the policeman. “Rather a long time between meets,though,it seems to me. Haven’t you heard from your friend since you left?”

“Well,yes,for a time we corresponded,” said the other. “But after a year or two we lost track of each other. You see,the West is a pretty big proposition,and I kept hustling around over it pretty lively. But I know Jimmy will meet me here if he’s alive,for he always was the truest,staunchest old chap in the world. He’ll never forget. I came a thousand miles to stand in this door to-night,and it’s worth it if my old partner turns up.”

The waiting man pulled out a handsome watch,the lids of it set with small diamonds.

“Three minutes to ten,” he announced. “It was exactly ten o’clock when we parted here at the restaurant door.”

“Did pretty well out West,didn’t you?” asked the policeman.

“You bet! I hope Jimmy has done half as well. He was a kind of plodder,though,good fellow as he was. I’ve had to compete with some of the sharpest wits going to get my pile. A man gets in a groove in New York. It takes the West to put a razor-edge on him.”

The policeman twirled his club and took a step or two.

“I’ll be on my way. Hope your friend comes around all right. Going to call time on him sharp?”

“I should say not!” said the other. “I’ll give him half an hour at least. If Jimmy is alive on earth he’ll be here by that time. So long,officer.”

“Good-night,sir,” said the policeman,passing on along his beat,trying doors as he went.

There was now a fine,cold drizzle falling,and the wind had risen from its uncertain puffs into a steady blow. The few foot passengers astir in that quarter hurried dismally and silently along with coat collars turned high and pocketed hands. And in the door of the hardware store the man who had come a thousand miles to fill an appointment,uncertain almost to absurdity,with the friend of his youth,smoked his cigar and waited.

About twenty minutes he waited,and then a tall man in a long overcoat,with collar turned up to his ears,hurried across from the opposite side of the street. He went directly to the waiting man.

“Is that you,Bob?” he asked,doubtfully.

“Is that you,Jimmy Wells?” cried the man in the door.

“Bless my heart!” exclaimed the new arrival,grasping both the other’s hands with his own. “It’s Bob,sure as fate. I was certain I’d find you here if you were still in existence. Well,well,well! —Twenty years is a long time. The old restaurant’s gone,Bob; I wish it had lasted,so we could have had another dinner there. How has the West treated you,old man?”

“Bully; it has given me everything I asked it for. You’ve changed lots,Jimmy. I never thought you were so tall by two or three inches.”

“Oh,I grew a bit after I was twenty.”

“Doing well in New York,Jimmy?”

“Moderately. I have a position in one of the city departments. Come on,Bob; we’ll go around to a place I know of,and have a good long talk about old times.”

The two men started up the street,arm in arm. The man from the West,his egotism enlarged by success,was beginning to outline the history of his career. The other,submerged in his overcoat,listened with interest.

At the corner stood a drug store,brilliant with electric lights. When they came into this glare each of them turned simultaneously to gaze upon the other’s face.

The man from the West stopped suddenly and released his arm.

“You’re not Jimmy Wells,” he snapped. “Twenty years is a long time,but not long enough to change a man’s nose from a Roman to a pug.”

“It sometimes changes a good man into a bad one,” said the tall man. “You’ve been under arrest for ten minutes,‘ Silky ’ Bob. Chicago thinks you may have dropped over our way and wires us she wants to have a chat with you. Going quietly,are you?That’s sensible. Now,before we go on to the station here’s a note I was asked to hand you. You may read it here at the window. It’s from Patrolman Wells.”The man from the West unfolded the little piece of paper handed him. His hand was steady when he began to read,but it trembled a little by the time he had finished. The note was rather short.

“Bob: I was at the appointed place on time. When you struck the match to light your cigar I saw it was the face of the man wanted in Chicago. Somehow I couldn’t do it myself,so I went around and got a plain clothes man to do the job. Jimmy.”

Questions for Discussion

1.What are the writing techniques here?Please try to identify them in the story.

2.What is the plot of this text?

3.What are the possible themes of the story?

4.What happened during the twenty years?And take some details as example.

5.Analyze the images of Bob and Jimmy,and interpret your understanding of the two characters.

Internet Resources

1.http://etc.usf.edu/lit2go/131/the-four-million/2414/lost-on-dress-parade/

2.http://www.english.upenn.edu/Projects/Buck/biography.html

3.https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/O. Henry

4.http://www.pearlsbcn.org/e/index.asp?class1&Nclass1

5.http://www.rappler.com/nation/special-coverage/1905-a-surprise-ending

Story Two Period Piece: The Case of Lord Cornphillip (1964)

About the Author

Evelyn Waugh (1903—1966) was an English writer of novels,biographies and travel books. He was also a prolific journalist and reviewer of books. Waugh is recognized as one of the great prose stylists of the English language in the 20th century. His most famous works include the early satires Decline and Fall (1928) and A Handful of Dust (1934),the novel Brideshead Revisited (1945) and the Second World War trilogy Sword of Honour (1952—1961). The son of a publisher,Waugh was educated at Lancing College and then at Hertford College,Oxford,and briefly worked as a schoolmaster before he became a full-time writer. He was a perceptive writer who used the experiences and the wide range of people he encountered in his works of fiction,generally to humorous effect. Evelyn Waugh died after Mass on Easter Sunday,1966,and left a world impoverished of one of its great stylists,humorists,provocateurs and characters. Though his faith and politics and temperament remain as out of step with the norms of literary culture today as they were at the time of his death,he is perennially in print and likely to survive as one of the giants of 20th-century English literature and one of the greatest English stylists of any age.

Tips for Reading

The story is selected from Evelyn Waugh’s The Complete Short Stories. Lady Amelia was in her declining years and began to pick up novels to kill her time. She employed Miss Myers to choose books and read stories to her. One afternoon,when they finished a story,they had some discussion about the story,which reminded Lady Amelia of the story of Lord Cornphillip with whom she was quite familiar in the old days. Then,the heroine Lady Amelia becomes the narrator of another story,who recalled memories of the past life and told stories concerning people from terrible homes. It is worth mentioning that the story of Lord Cornphillip is a story within story,which is a literary device in which one character within a narrative narrates. The inner stories are told either simply to entertain or more usually to act as an example to the other characters. In either case the story often has symbolic and psychological significance for the characters in the outer story. There is often some parallel between the two stories,and the fiction of the inner story is used to reveal the truth in the outer story. Through the story of Lord Cornphillip,Lady Amelia shows Miss Myers what the life of the people from the terrible homes is really like.

The Story

Lady Amelia had been educated in the belief that it was the height of impropriety to read a novel in the morning. Now,in the twilight of her days,when she had singularly little to occupy the two hours between her appearance downstairs at quarter past eleven,hatted and fragrant with lavender water,and the announcement of luncheon,she adhered rigidly to this principle. As soon as luncheon was over,however,and coffee had been served in the drawing room; before the hot milk in his saucer had sufficiently cooled for Manchu to drink it; while the sunlight,in summer,streamed through the Venetian blinds of the round-fronted Regency windows; while,in winter,the carefully stacked coal-fire glowed in its round-fronted grate; while Manchu sniffed and sipped at his saucer,and Lady Amelia spread out on her knees the various shades of coarse wool with which her failing eyesight now compelled her to work; while the elegant Regency clock ticked off the two and a half hours to tea time—it was Miss Myers’s duty to read a novel aloud to her employer.

With the passing years Lady Amelia had grown increasingly fond of novels,and of novels of a particular type. They were what the assistant in the circulating library termed “strong meat” and kept in a hidden place under her desk. It was Miss Myers’s duty to fetch and return them. “Have you anything of the kind Lady Amelia likes?”she would ask somberly .

“Well,there’s this just come in,” the assistant would answer,fishing up a volume from somewhere near her feet.

At one time Lady Amelia had enjoyed love stories about the irresponsible rich; then she had had a psychological phase; at the moment her interests were American,in the school of brutal realism and gross slang. “Something else like Sanctuary or Bessie Cotter,” Miss Myers was reluctantly obliged to demand. And as the still afternoon was disturbed by her delicately modulated tones enunciating page by page,in scarcely comprehensible idiom,the narratives of rape and betrayal,Lady Amelia would occasionally chuckle a little over her woolwork.

“Women of my age always devote themselves either to religion or novels,” she said. “I have remarked among my few surviving friends that those who read novels enjoy far better health.”

The story they were reading came to an end at half past four.

“Thank you,” said Lady Amelia. “That was most entertaining. Make a note of the author’s name,please,Miss Myers. You will be able to go to the library after tea and see whether they have another. I hope you enjoyed it.”

“Well,it was very sad,wasn’t it?”

“Sad?”

“I mean the poor young man who wrote it must come from a terrible home.”

“Why do you say that,Miss Myers?”

“Well,it was so far fetched.”

“It is odd you should think so. I invariably find modern novels painfully reticent . Of course until lately I never read novels at all. I cannot say what they were like formerly. I was far too busy in the old days living my own life and sharing the lives of my friends—all people who came from anything but terrible homes,” she added with a glance at her companion; a glance sharp and smart as a rap on the knuckles with an ivory ruler.

There was half an hour before tea; Manchu was asleep on the hearthrug,before the fireless grate; the sun streamed in through the blinds,casting long strips of light on the Aubusson carpet. Lady Amelia fixed her eyes on the embroidered,heraldic fire screen; and proceeded dreamily. “I suppose it would not do. You couldn’t write about the things which actually happen. People are so used to novels that they would not believe them. The poor writers are constantly at pains to make the truth seem probable. Dear me,I often think,as you sit,so kindly,reading to me,‘If one was just to write down quite simply the events of a few years in any household one knows ... No one would believe it.’ I can hear you yourself,dear Miss Myers,saying,‘Perhaps these things do happen,very occasionally,once in a century,in terrible homes’; instead of which they are constantly happening,every day,all round us—or at least,they were in my young days.

Take for example the extremely ironic circumstances of the succession of the present. Lord Cornphillip:

“I used to know the Cornphillips very well in the old days,” said Lady Amelia—“Etty was a cousin of my mother’s—and when we were first married my husband and I used to stay there every autumn for the pheasant shooting. Billy Cornphillip was a very dull man—very dull indeed. He was in my husband’s regiment . I used to know a great many dull people at the time when I was first married,but Billy Cornphillip was notorious for dullness even among my husband’s friends. Their place is in Wiltshire. I see the boy is trying to sell it now. I am not surprised. It was very ugly and very unhealthy. I used to dread our visits there.

“Etty was entirely different,a lively little thing with very nice eyes. People thought her fast. Of course it was a very good match for her; she was one of seven sisters and her father was a younger son,poor dear. Billy was twelve years older. She had been after him for years. I remember crying with pleasure when I received her letter telling me of the engagement ... It was at the breakfast table ... she used a very artistic kind of writing paper with pale blue edges and bows of blue ribbon at the corner.

“Poor Etty was always being artistic; she tried to do something with the house—put up peacocks’ feathers and painted tambourines and some very modern stencil work—but the result was always depressing. She made a little garden for herself at some distance from the house,with a high wall and a padlocked door,where she used to retire to think—or so she said—for hours at a time. She called it the Garden of Her Thoughts. I went in with her once,as a great privilege,after one of her quarrels with Billy. Nothing grew very well there—because of the high walls,I suppose,and her doing it all herself. There was a mossy seat in the middle. I suppose she used to sit on it while she thought. The whole place had a nasty dank smell.

“Well we were all delighted at Etty’s luck and I think she quite liked Billy at first and was prepared to behave well to him,in spite of his dullness. You see it came just when we had all despaired. Billy had been the friend of Lady Instow for a long time and we were all afraid she would never let him marry but they had a quarrel at Cowes that year and Billy went up to Scotland in a bad temper and little Etty was staying in the house; so everything was arranged and I was one of her bridesmaids.

“The only person who was not pleased was Ralph Bland. You see he was Billy’s nearest relative and would inherit if Billy died without children and he had got very hopeful as time went on.

“He came to a very sad end—in fact I don’t know what became of him—but at the time of which I am speaking he was extremely popular,especially with women ... Poor Viola Chasm was terribly in love with him. Wanted to run away. She and Lady Anchorage were very jealous of each other about him. It became quite disagreeable,particularly when Viola found that Lady Anchorage was paying her maid five pounds a week to send on all Ralph’s letters to her—before Viola had read them,that was what she minded. He really had a most agreeable manner and said such ridiculous things ... The marriage was a great disappointment to Ralph; he was married himself and had two children. She had a little money at one time,but Ralph ran through it. Billy did not get on with Ralph—they had very little in common,of course—but he treated him quite well and was always getting him out of difficulties. In fact he made him a regular allowance at one time,and what with that and what he got from Viola and Lady Anchorage he was really quite comfortable. But,as he said,he had his children’s future to consider,so that Billy’s marriage was a great disappointment to him. He even talked of emigrating and Billy advanced him a large sum of money to purchase a sheep farm in New Zealand,but nothing came of that because Ralph had a Jewish friend in the city who made away with the entire amount. It all happened in a very unfortunate manner because Billy had given him this lump sum on the understanding that he should not expect an allowance. And then Viola and Lady Anchorage were greatly upset at his talk of leaving and made other arrangements so that in one way and another Ralph found himself in very low water,poor thing.

“However he began to recover his spirits when,after two years,there was no sign of an heir. People had babies very much more regularly when I was young. Everybody expected that Etty would have a baby—she was a nice healthy little thing—and when she did not,there was a great deal of ill-natured gossip. Ralph himself behaved very wrongly in the matter. He used to make jokes about it,my husband told me,quite openly at his club in the worst possible taste.

“I well remember the last time that Ralph stayed with the Cornphillips; it was a Christmas party and he came with his wife and his two children. The eldest boy was about six at the time and there was a very painful scene. I was not there myself,but we were staying nearby with the Lockejaws and of course we heard all about it. Billy seems to have been in his most pompous mood and was showing off the house when Ralph’s little boy said solemnly and very loudly,‘Daddy says that when I step into your shoes I can pull the whole place down. The only thing worth worrying about is the money.’

“It was towards the end of a large and rather old-fashioned Christmas party,so no one was feeling in a forgiving mood. There was a final breach between the two cousins. Until then,in spite of the New Zealand venture,Billy had been reluctantly supporting Ralph. Now the allowance ceased once for all and Ralph took it in very bad part.

“You know what it is—or perhaps,dear Miss Myers,you are so fortunate as not to know what it is—when near relatives begin to quarrel. There is no limit to the savagery to which they will resort. I should be ashamed to indicate the behaviour of these two men towards each other during the next two or three years. No one had any sympathy with either.

“For example,Billy,of course,was a Conservative. Ralph came down and stood as a Radical in the General Election in his own county and got in.

“This,you must understand,was in the days before the lower classes began going into politics. It was customary for the candidates on both sides to be men of means and,in the circumstances,there was considerable expenditure involved. Much more in fact than Ralph could well afford,but in those days Members of Parliament had many opportunities for improving their position,so we all thought it a very wise course of Ralph’s—the first really sensible thing we had known him to do. What followed was very shocking.

“Billy of course had refused to lend his interest—that was only to be expected—but when the election was over,and everybody perfectly satisfied with the result,he did what I always consider a Very Wrong Thing. He made an accusation against Ralph of corrupt practices. It was a matter of three pounds which Ralph had given to a gardener whom Billy had discharged for drunkenness. I daresay that all that kind of thing has ceased nowadays,but at the time to which I refer,it was universally customary. No one had any sympathy with Billy but he pressed the charge and poor Ralph was unseated.

“Well,after this time,I really think that poor Ralph became a little unsettled in his mind. It is a very sad thing,Miss Myers,when a middle-aged man becomes obsessed by a grievance. You remember how difficult it was when the Vicar thought that Major Etheridge was persecuting him. He actually informed me that Major Etheridge put water in the petrol tank of his motor-cycle and gave sixpences to the choir boys to sing out of tune—well it was like that with poor Ralph. He made up his mind that Billy had deliberately ruined him. He took a cottage in the village and used to embarrass Billy terribly by coming to all the village fêtes and staring at Billy fixedly. Poor Billy was always embarrassed when he had to make a speech. Ralph used to laugh ironically at the wrong places but never so loudly that Billy could have him turned out. And he used to go to public houses and drink far too much. They found him asleep on the terrace twice. And of course no one on the place liked to offend him,because at any moment he might become Lord Cornphillip.

“It must have been a very trying time for Billy. He and Etty were not getting on at all well together,poor things,and she spent more and more time in the Garden of Her Thoughts and brought out a very silly little book of sonnets,mostly about Venice and Florence,though she could never induce Billy to take her abroad. He used to think that foreign cooking upset him.

“Billy forbade her to speak to Ralph,which was very awkward as they were always meeting one another in the village and had been great friends in the old days. In fact Ralph used often to speak very contemptuously of his cousin’s manliness and say it was time someone took Etty off his hands. But that was only one of Ralph’s jokes,because Etty had been getting terribly thin and dressing in the most artistic way,and Ralph always liked people who were chic and plump—like poor Viola Chasm. Whatever her faults—” said Lady Amelia, “Viola was always chic and plump.

“It was at the time of the Diamond Jubilee that the crisis took place. There was a bonfire and a great deal of merry making of a rather foolish kind and Ralph got terribly drunk. He began threatening Billy in a very silly way and Billy had him up before the magistrates and they made an order against him to keep the peace and not to reside within ten miles of Cornphillip. ‘All right,’ Ralph said,in front of the whole Court,‘I’ll go away,but I won’t go alone.’ And will you believe it,Miss Myers,he and Etty went off to Venice together that very afternoon.

“Poor Etty,she had always wanted to go to Venice and had written so many poems about it,but it was a great surprise to us all. Apparently she had been meeting Ralph for some time in the Garden of Her Thoughts.

“I don’t think Ralph ever cared about her,because,as I say,she was not at all his type,but it seemed to him a very good revenge on Billy.

“Well,the elopement was far from successful. They took rooms in a very insanitary palace,and had a gondola and ran up a great many bills. Then Etty got a septic throat as a result of the sanitation and while she was laid up Ralph met an American woman who was much more his type. So in less than six weeks poor Etty was back in England. Of course she did not go back to Billy at once. She wanted to stay with us,but,naturally,that wasn’t possible. It was very awkward for everyone. There was never,I think,any talk of a divorce. It was long before that became fashionable. But we all felt it would be very inconsiderate to Billy if we had her to stay. And then,this is what will surprise you,Miss Myers,the next thing we heard was that Etty was back at Cornphillip and about to have a baby. It was a son. Billy was very pleased about it and I don’t believe that the boy ever knew,until quite lately,at luncheon with Lady Metroland,when my nephew Simon told him,in a rather ill natured way.

“As for poor Ralph’s boy,I am afraid he has come to very little good. He must be middle-aged by now. No one ever seems to hear anything of him. Perhaps he was killed in war. I cannot remember.

“And here comes Ross with the tray; and I see that Mrs. Samson has made more of those little scones which you always seem to enjoy so much. I am sure,dear Miss Myers,you would suffer much less from your migraine if you avoided them. But you take so little care of yourself,dear Miss Myers ... Give one to Manchu.”

Questions for Discussion

1.What is significant about the title?

2.Try to identify the literary devices applied in the story.

3.What is the relation between the inner story and the outer story?

4.What is the theme of the story?

5.What is the symbolic meaning of the story?

Internet Resources

1.http://evelynwaughsociety.org/about-evelyn-waugh/

2.http://trove.nla.gov.au/work/18444007?q&version21646267+195751705

3.http://www.doubtinghall.com/further-reading/#other

4.https://www.biography.com/people/evelyn-waugh-9525520

5.http://www.catholicauthors.com/waugh.html

  1. on the beat:在巡逻中。

  2. gusts of wind:一阵阵风。

  3. club:警棍。

  4. stalwart form:身体强壮,身形雄健。

  5. swagger:大摇大摆地走。

  6. It’s all straight:一切顺利,正常。

  7. plodder:常指做事慢吞吞且不太聪明的人。

  8. razor-edge:原意指剃刀锋口,可用来指危急关头。

  9. Going to call time on him sharp?:到时间他没来你就会走吗?

  10. egotism:自负。

  11. in the twilight of her days:晚年。

  12. somberly:忧郁地,阴沉地。

  13. Sanctuary:福克纳的小说《圣殿》。

  14. Bessie Cotter:华莱士·斯密斯的小说。

  15. enunciating:吐字发音。

  16. reticent:含蓄的,有所保留的;(人)寡言少语。

  17. hearthrug:炉前的地毯。

  18. heraldic:带纹章的。

  19. regiment:军团。

  20. padlocked:挂锁。

  21. chic:漂亮的,时髦的。

  22. Diamond Jubilee:钻石庆,即60周年庆典,此处指1897年庆祝维多利亚女王登基60周年。

  23. gondola:贡多拉(威尼斯一种小划船)。

  24. migraine:偏头痛。


上一章目录下一章

Copyright © 读书网 www.dushu.com 2005-2020, All Rights Reserved.
鄂ICP备15019699号 鄂公网安备 42010302001612号