Description of a Place.doc

Description of a PlaceDescriptions of places often appear in different types of writings for different purposes. When they appear in travel brochures or tourist magazines, the purpose is to guide the tourists or to attract more tourists. So the focus of these descriptions will be on the best selling points of the places being described. When they appear in a narrative, the purpose is usually to help achieve certain purposes of the author such as building a certain atmosphere, specifying the location of an incident or enhancing the characterization of a certain character. In this case, the description needs to meet the need of the narrative. The language used in the description of a place should also be varied according to the purpose. If it is an official introduction to a certain location, the language should be formal; if it is for advertising for a tourist resort, the language can be informal.Since different angles (or perspectives) will make the same place look different, clear and appropriate, a proper angle is a must for the description of a place. For instance, to describe a house, the writer may choose to describe it from the outside or from the inside or both according to the purpose; he may also choose to describe it from the owners perspective or from a visitors perspective.Reading AThe Middle Eastern Bazaar The Middle Eastern bazaar takes you back hundreds-even thousands-of years. The one I am thinking of particularly is entered by a Gothic-arched gateway of aged brick and stone. You pass from the heat and glare of a big, open square into a cool, dark cavern which extends as far as the eye can see, losing itself in the shadowy distance. Little donkeys with harmoniously tinkling bells thread their way among the throngs of people entering and leaving the bazaar. The roadway is about twelve feet wide, but it is narrowed every few yards by little stalls where goods of every conceivable kind are sold. The din of the stall-holders crying their wares, of donkey-boys and porters clearing away for themselves by shouting vigorously, and of would-be purchasers arguing and bargaining is continuous and makes you dizzy. Then as you penetrate deeper into the bazaar, the noise of the entrance fades away, and you come to the muted cloth-market. The earthen floor, beaten hard by countless feet, deadens the sound of footsteps, and the vaulted mud-brick walls and roof have hardly any sounds to echo. The shop-keepers speak in slow, measured tones, and the buyers, overwhelmed by the sepulchral atmosphere, follow suit. One of the peculiarities of the Eastern bazaar is that shopkeepers dealing in the same kind of goods do not scatter themselves over the bazaar, in order to avoid competition, but collect in the same area, so that purchasers can know where to find them, and so that they can form a closely knit guild against injustice or persecution. In the cloth-market, for instance, all the sellers of material for clothes, curtains, chaircovers and so on line the roadway on both sides, each openfronted shop having a trestle table for display and shelves for storage. Bargaining is the order of the day, and veiled women move at a leisurely pace from shop to shop, selecting, pricing and doing a little preliminary bargaining before they narrow down their choice and begin the really serious business of beating the price down. It is a point of honour with the customer not to let the shopkeeper guess what it is she really likes and wants until the last moment. If he does guess correctly, he will price the item high, and yield little in the bargaining. The seller, on the other hand, makes a point of protesting that the price he is charging is depriving him of all profit, and that he is sacrificing this because of his personal regard for the customer. Bargaining can go on the whole day, or even several days, with the customer coming and going at intervals. One of the most picturesque and impressive parts of the bazaar is the copper-smiths market. As you approach it, a tinkling and banging and clashing begins to impinge on your ear. It grows louder and more distinct, until you round a corner and see a fairyland of dancing flashes, as the burnished copper catches the light of innumerable lamps and braziers. In each shop sit the apprentices-boys and youths, some of them incredibly young-hammering away at copper vessels of all shapes and sizes, while the shop-owner instructs, and sometimes takes a hand with a hammer himself. In the background, a tiny apprentice blows a big charcoal fire with a huge leather bellows worked by a string attached to his big toe - the red of the live coals glowing bright and then dimming rhythmically to the strokes of the bellows. Here you can find beautiful pots and bowls engraved with delicate and intricate traditional designs, or the simple, everyday kitchenware used in this country, pleasing in form, but undecorated and strictly functional. Elsewhere there is the carpet-market, with its profusion of rich colours, varied textures and regional designs-some bold and simple, others unbelievably detailed and yet harmonious. Then there is the spice-market, with its pungent and exotic smells; and the food-market, where you can buy everything you need for the most sumptuous dinner, or sit in a tiny restaurant with porters and apprentices and eat your humble bread and cheese. The dye-market, the pottery-market and the carpenters market lie elsewhere in the maze of vaulted streets which honeycomb this bazaar. Every here and there, a doorway gives a glimpse of a sunlit courtyard, perhaps before a mosque or a caravanserai, where camels lie disdainfully chewing their hay, while the great bales of merchandise they have carried hundreds of miles across the desert lie beside them. Perhaps the most unforgettable thing in the bazaar, apart from its general atmosphere, is the place where they make linseed oil. It is a vast, sombre cavern of a room, some thirty feet high and sixty feet square, and so thick with the dust of centuries that the mudbrick walls and vaulted roof are only dimly visible. In this cavern are three massive stone wheels, each with a huge pole through its centre as an axle. The pole is attached at the one end to an upright post, around which it can revolve, and at the other to a blind-folded camel, which walks constantly in a circle, providing the motive power to turn the stone wheel. This revolves in a circular stone channel, into which an attendant feeds linseed. The stone wheel crushes it to a pulp, which is then pressed to extract the oil. The camels are the largest and finest I have ever seen, and in superb condition-muscular, massive and stately. The pressing of the linseed pulp to extract the oil is done by a vast ramshackle apparatus of beams and ropes and pulleys which towers to the vaulted ceiling and dwarfs the camels and their stone wheels. The machine is operated by one man, who shovels the linseed pulp into a stone vat, climbs up nimbly to a dizzy height to fasten ropes, and then throws his weight on to a great beam made out of a tree trunk to set the ropes and pulleys in motion. Ancient girders creak and groan, ropes tighten and then a trickle of oil oozes down a stone runnel into a used petrol can. Quickly the trickle becomes a flood of glistening linseed oil as the beam sinks earthwards, taut and protesting, its creaks blending with the squeaking and rumbling of the grinding-wheels and the occasional grunts and sighs of the camels. (From Advanced English, Book 1, 1995, P1)ExercisesI. Topics for discussion；1. What angle of description is adopted in this passage? Where is the writer?2. Several specific places are described in the bazaar. What are they? And what is the order of description?3. Some places are described with details, yet some very briefly. Why?4. The copper-smiths market and the place where linseed oil is made are very vividly described. What methods are employed to achieve this vividness?5. Summarize the characteristics of the Middle Eastern Bazaar.6. Recite paragraph 5 and 9. II. Find some words for describing a place in the passage. _III. List more words for describing a place. _IV. Translate the following sentences into English1.从这房子出去就是一个美丽的花园。 2.这房子耸立在石山山巅。3.天花板上挂着一盏吊灯。4.从这座山上可以眺望美丽的远景。5.太阳下山了，屋里渐渐昏暗起来。V. Translate the following passage into English.从秘鲁首都利马出发，在安第斯山脉沿着东北方向穿行一百二十英里，旅行者便来到了世界最高城市帕斯科的著名银矿区。就在帕斯科的近旁，在科迪勒拉山系的核心地带，有一个小湖泊。它海拔近一万四千英尺，仅在不融化的雪山的高度之下。正是这个小湖泊孕育了强大的万河之王亚马孙河。亚马孙河一开始只是一条相对较小的溪流，有许多的瀑布和湍流。在穿过充满岩石的峡谷之后，它到达了厄瓜多尔的境内，此处距离它的源头有八百英里。在这里，旅行者的眼前，通过想象，便会呈现出一个巨大的长满茂密森林的山谷，一直向东延伸到远方的大西洋。在他身后的西方耸立着科迪勒拉山的峭壁；在他的左侧朝北的方向是委内瑞拉和圭亚那的高地；在南面则是巴西的陡峭山峰和高原地带。他前方的山谷几乎能够装得下大半个欧洲；而且，这条巨大的溪流所有支流的水流量都超过了全欧洲所有河流的总流量。亚马孙的主河流，算上它所有蜿蜒的部分，不少于四千英里。_VI. Describe your campus or dormitory.Reading B Wuthering HeightsEmily BronteWuthering Heights is the name of Mr. Heathcliffs dwelling. “Wuthering” being a significant provincial adjective, descriptive of the atmospheric tumult to which its station is exposed in stormy weather. Pure, bracing ventilation they must have up there at all times, indeed; one may guess the power of the north wind blowing over the edge, by the excessive slant of a few stunted firs at the end of the house; and by a range of gaunt thorns all stretching their limbs one way, as if craving alms of the sun. Happily, the architect had foresight to build it strong: the narrow windows are deeply set in the wall, and the corners defended with large jutting stones. Before passing the threshold, I paused to admire a quantity of grotesque carving lavished over the front, and especially about the principal door; above which, among a wilderness of crumbling griffins and shameless little boys, I detected the date 1500, and the name “Hareton Earnshaw”. I would have made a few comments, and requested a short history of the place from the surly owner; but his attitude at the door appeared to demand my speedy entrance, or complete departure, and I had no desire to aggravate his impatience previous to inspecting the penetralium. One step brought us into the family sitting-room, without any introductory lobby or passage: they call it here the house preeminently. It includes kitchen and parlour, generally; but I believe at Wuthering Heights the kitchen is forced to retreat altogether into another quarter: at least I distinguished a chatter of tongues, and a clatter of culinary utensils, deep within; and I observed no signs of roasting, boiling, or baking, about the huge fireplace; nor any glitter of copper saucepans and tin cullenders on the walls. One end, indeed, reflected splendidly both light and heat from ranks of immense pewter dishes, interspersed with silver jugs and tankards, towering row after row, on a vast oak dresser, to the very roof. The latter had never been underdrawn: its entire anatomy lay bare to an inquiring eye, except where a frame of wood laden with oatcakes and clusters of legs of beef, mutton, and ham, concealed it. Above the