sat2013年6月阅读部分纯文本.doc

Sincenearlyeverydeep-oceancreatureisequippedwithspecialorganscalledphotophoresthatemitlightviachemicalreactions,scientistsassumebioluminescenceisadvantageous.Thelightcouldfrightenawaypredators,butthereisanotherpossibility.Hidingiskeytosurvivalinthispredaceousworld,butitistrickytohideinwhatamountstopureopenspace.Smallercreaturescangetawaywithbeingtransparentwhileopaqueeyesareaproblemforanotherwisetransparentlargesquid.Althoughusinglightstohideinthedarkseemslikesomethingonlyafoolwouldtry,asquidsphotophoresemitablueglowthateffectivelycancelsshadowsthatmightgiveitaway.祁山故人2015-11-913:21:47TheoddrelationshipbetweenAmericansandtheirfoodisoneofthemainthemesofLauraShapirosbookSomethingfromtheOven.Howdidwetravelfromthefreshfoodourancestorsatetotheendlessarrayofprocessedjunkweeattoday?ShapiropicksupthestoryaftertheSecondWorldWar,whenthefoodindustry,burstingwithtricksithadlearnedforfeedingsoldiersoverseas,waseagertotrainAmericans“todevelopalastingtasteformealsthatwerelikefoodrations”dried,reconstituted,indestructible.Theofferingsincludeddriedwines,apotatosnackcalledTatonuts,whichwastoutedas“havingastrongresistencetoweatherconditions,”cannedhamburgers,and-Iswear-frozenconcentratedmineralwater.祁山故人2015-11-913:22:40Thepassagebelow,adaptedfroma1986novel,issetinaNorthAfricandeserttown.AluBose,theprotagonist,wasraisedinIndiabyhisuncleBalaram,whogreatlyadmiredtheFrenchscientistLouisPasteurandscientificrationalism.AluisinthehomeofanewacquaintanceMrs.Verma,amicrobiologistandislookingatherbookcase.AndthenAlusawit.Itborenooutwardcluetoitsidentityforitwaswrappedinacoverliketheothers.Yet,themomenthelookedatit,heknew.Hetriedtocontrolhimself,triedtosaysomethingpolite,butthewordsdiedinhisthroatandhefelltohiskneesandsnatchedthebookfromitsshelf.Hedidntevenneedtolookatthetitlepage.Thefadingprintsmiledathimlikeanall-too-familiarface.Hiseyesbrimmedoverwithtears.“ItsthelifeofPasteur,”hesaidquietly,lookingupatMrs.Verma.Shehadbeenwatchinghimwithsomealarm,butwhenhespokeshelaughed.“Yes,”shesaid,“haveyoureadit?”Henoddedwordlessly.“Itwasoneofmyfathersfavoritebooks,”shesaid.“Helovedit.AclosefriendofhisgaveittohimwhenhewasinPresidencyCollege.”“Who?Whatwashisname?”Aluwasalreadythumbingthroughthestiff,cracklingleaves,fumblingforthetitlepage.Somehowitkeptslippingpasthisfingers.Hebrokeintoasweat,stopped,closedthebookbetweenhispalmsandopeneditagain,gently.HesawBalaramshandwritingonthefirstpage,inredink,sprawledacrossthecomer:ToHemNarainMathur,Rationalistandfriend,fromBalaramBose;MedicalCollegeHospital,Calcutta,1932.Anotherhandhadinscribedbeneath:TorememberReason.Hecouldnotbeartolookatit.Heshutthebookandhoggedittohischest.“Why,Mr.Bose,”Mrs.Vermasaidinsurprise,“youtobeveryfondofthatbook?”“Mrs.Verma,”Alusaid,“thisbookistheonlyrealbrotherIeverhad.IdlosthimandnowIvefoundhimagainhereinthedesert,ofallplaces,andinyourhouse.”Mrs.Vermalistenedgravely,pickingatthefrayedthreadonthefallofhersari.Thenshesaid:”Thatsverysad.”“Sad!”criedAlu,“Howcanyoucallitsad?”“Icanseethatyoulovethebook,Mr.Bose,andthatsverysadbecauseyoucanloveabookbutabookcantloveyou.ThatswhatIusedtotellmyfather,buthecouldneverunderstand.Hewouldlookattheworldwhirlingaroundhimandhewouldlookathisbooks,andwhentheytoldhimdifferentstories,likeamancaughtbetweenquarrellingfriends,hewouldntknowwhichsidetotake.Butitintheend,eventhoughitmeantshuttinghimselfawaythebookswon.Theyruledoverhim:forhimthatbookcasehadalltheordertheworldlacked.Iusedtothinkitwaslove,butIknowbetternow.Hewasafraid;afraidofthepowerofscienceandthosebooks,thatifhedisownedthemtheywoulddestroyhim.”“Thatcantbetrue,”Alucried.“Whatcouldbeabooklikethisonehavedonetohim?Yourewrong;youmustbe.”Shesmiled:“YoumayberightImoftenwrong.”Shetookthebookfromhimandflippedthroughitgingerly,holdingitatadistance.“Doyouknow,”hesaidlookingatitinwonder,“itsbecauseofthisbookthatImamicrobiologisttoday?MyfathertoldmethatmicrobiologywasPasteursheritage,andthatIwastokeepitalive.”Shetookadeepbreathandheldthebookouttohim“Takeit,”shesaid,“Ivealwayswantedtogetridofit.OnlyIveneverdared:Imtoomuchmyfathersdaughter.”Aluhesitated:“HowcouldItakeit?Itwasyourfathers.”“Takeit,”sheinsisted,almostangrily.“NowthatIvefoundthecouragetogiveitaway,Iwonttakeitback.Keepitwithyou.Takeitoutsidetothedunesifyoulikeandreaditinpeacethere.”“Yes,”hesaideagerly,holdingouthishand.“Illdojustthat.Icanalwaysbringitback.”Shedroppedthebookintohishands.13:23:25祁山故人2015-11-913:23:25Passage1Itisobvioustomethatcomicsarealegitimateartform.Duringmyfouryearsofteachinginacollegesequential-artdepartment,mystudentsproducedheartbreakingautobiographicalstories,dreamlikemyths,andphilosophicalmusingsdrawninthestyleofthegreat1920scartoonistCliffSterrett.Thesestudentsfelttremendousexcitementandreliefathavingfoundaplacetheycouldfollowtheirmuse1,evenifshewasmovingthroughpanels.Manyhadtransferredfromotherartprogramsbecausetherewasnoonetheretoengageinacriticaldialogueabouttheirchosenartform,ormorefrequently,becausetheireffortsweremetwithdisdain.Passage2Likeopera,thetheater,cinema,orvideo,comicsuseatleasttwomediumssimultaneously-inthiscasewordsandpictures-togiveaestheticshapetohumanexperience.Theonlyimportantgeneralcharacteristicthatthecomicbookformlacksbutoperaandtheothersshareisrespectability,atleastintheeyesoftheestablishment.Atthispointwecomicadvocatesthrowprotectivearmsaroundourmalignedoffspring.Lackofrespectabilityindeed!DidntthePuritansclosethetheaters?2Wasntthenovelonceregardedwitharistocraticdisgust?Andnowchampionsoftheseforms,aligningthemselveswiththeuppercrust,havethegalltoturnuptheirnosesatthenewkidontheblock.Itisntfair!1afigureofinspiration2Undertheinfluenceofthepictures,theatersinEnglandwereclosedfrom1642to1660祁山故人2015-11-913:23:54Thispassageisadaptedfromanessaywrittenbyanovelistfora1995collectionofhernonfiction.NotlongagoIwentbackpackingintheEagleTailMountains.ThisrangeisatracklesswildernessinwesternArizonathatsomepeoplewouldcalldesolate,takingnoteofthelackorloamytopsoilandtheabsenceofregularprecipitation.Thehidersprograminadesertlikethisisdireandblunt;carryinenoughwatertokeepyoualivetillyoucanfindawatersource;thenfillyourbottlesandheadforthenextone,orstraightbackout.Expertswarnadventurersinthisregion,withoutirony,todrinktheirwaterwhiletheyrestillalive,asitwonthelplater.Severalcanyonslookedpromisingforspringsonourtopographicalmap,butturnedupdry.Finally,atthetopofanarrow,overgrowngorgewefoundablessestinajaadeep,shadedhollowintherockaboutthesizeoffourorfiveclaw-footbathtubs,holdingwater.Afterwedrankourfill.Myfriendsstruckoutagain,butIoptedtostayandspendthedayinthehospitableplacethathadslakedourthirst.Oneithersideorthenaturalwatertank,twoshallowcavesinthecanyonwallfacedeachother,onlyafewdozenstepsapart.Bycrossingfromonetotheotheratnoon,apersoncouldspendthewholedayhereinshadycomfortorincolderweather,followthewintersun.Anticipatingamorningofreading,Ipulledanoveloutofmypackandlookedforaplacetosettleontheflat,dustyfloorofthewest-facingshelter.Instead,myeyeswerestartledbyasmoothcorn-grindingstone.Itsatintheexactcenterofitsrockbowl,asiftheHohokamwomanormanwhousedthismortarandpestlehadwalkedleftthemthereanhourago.TheHohokamdisappearedfromtheearthinA.D.1450.Itwasinconceivabletomethatnoonehadbeenheresincethen,butthatmayhavebeenthecasethatisthepointoftracklesswilderness.Ipickedupthegrindingstone.Thesizeandweightandsmooth,balancedperfectionofitinmyhandfilledmeatoncewithalongingtopossessit.Initstime,thisexcellentstonewasthemosttreasuredthinginalife,afamily,maybethewholeneighborhood.Towhomitstillbelonged.Ireplaceditintherockdepression,whichalsofeltsmoothtomytouch.Becausemyeyesnowunderstoodhowtolookatit,thegroundundermyfeetcamealivewithworkedflintchipsandpotteryshards.Iwalkedacrosstotheothercavethefounditsfloorjustaslivelywithhistoricdebris.Debris,hiddenunderbrittlebushandcatclawIfoundanothergrindingstone,thisonesomedistancefromthedepressioninthecavefloorthatonceanswereditspressuredaily,orgrindingofcornormesquitebeans.Howlongcanapestlestoneliestillinthecenterofitsmortar?Thatlongagethatrecentlypeoplelivedhere,Here.Exactly,andnotonevalleyover,ortwo,ortwelve,becausethisplacehadallapersonneeds;shelter,food,andpermanentwater.Theyseeminglyorganizedtheirlivesaroundacatchmentbasininagraniteboulder,conformingtheirdesirestotheearthscharities;theyneverexpectedtheopposite.Atduskmyfriendsreturnedwithwonderfultalesofthegroundtheyhadcovered.Wecampedforthenight,refilledourcanteens,andhikedbacktothelandofplumbingandafairguaranteeoflongevity.ButItreasuremymemoryofthedaylingerednearwaterandcoverednoground,IcantthinkofadayinmylifeinwhichIvehadsuchaclearfixonwhatitmeanstobehuman.Wantisathingthatunfurls,unbiddenlikefungus,openinglargeuponitself,stopless,fillingthesky.Butneeds,fromonedaytothenext,arefewenoughtofitinabucket,withroomenoughlefttorattlelikebrittlebushinadrywind.祁山故人2015-11-913:24:39Thispassageisfroma1992essayaboutcontemporarypoetryinUnitedStates.PoetryintheUnitedStatesnowbelongstoasubculture.Nolongerpartofthemainstreamofartisticandintellectuallife,ithasbecomethespecializedoccupationofrelativelysmallandisolatedgroup.Littleofthefreneticactivityitgenerateseverreachesoutsidethatclosedgroup.Asaclass,poetsarenotwithoutculturalstatus;theystillcommandacertainresidualprestige.Butasindividualartiststheyarealmostinvisible.Whatmakesthesituationofcontemporarypoetryparticularlysurprisingisthatitcomesamomentofunprecedentedexpansionforthearts.Therehaveneverbeforebeensomanynewbooksofpoetrypublished,somanyanthologiesorliterarymagazines.Neverhasitbeensoeasytoearnalivingasapoet.Therearenowseveralthousandcollege-leveljobsinteachingcreativewriting,andmanymoreattheprimaryandsecondarylevels.Theproliferationofnewpoetryandpoetryprogramsisastoundingbyanyhistoricalmeasure.Justunderathousandnewcollectionsofversearepublishedeachyear,inadditiontoamyriadofnewpoemsprintedinmagazinesbothsmallandlarge.Nooneknowshowmanypoetryreadingstakeplaceeachyear,butsurelythetotalmustrunintothetensofthousands.Andtherearenowabout200graduatecreative-writingprogramsintheUnitedStates,andmorethan1000undergraduateones.Withanaverageoftenpoetrystudentsineachgraduatesection,theseprogramsalonewillproduceabout20,000accreditedprofessionalpoetsoverthenextdecade.FromsuchstatisticsanobservermighteasilyconcludethatweliveinthegoldenageofAmericanpoetry.Butthepoetryboomhasbeenadistressinglyconfinedphenomenon.Decadesofpublicandprivatefundinghavecreatedalargeprofessionalclassfortheproductionandreceptionofnewpoetry,comprisinglegionsofteachers,graduatestudents,editors,publishers,andadministrators.Basedmostlyinuniversities,thesegroupshavegraduallybecometheprimaryaudienceforcontemporaryverse.Consequently,theenergyofAmericanpoetry,whichwasoncedirectedoutward,isnowincreasinglyfocusedinward.Reputationsaremadeandrewardsdistributedwithinthepoetrysubculture.ToadaptRussellJacobysdefinitionofcontemporaryacademicrenownformTheLastIntellectuals,a“famous”poetnowmeanssomeonefamousonlytootherpoets.Butthereareenoughpoetstomakethatlocalfamerelativelymeaningful.Notlongago,“onlypoetsreadpoetry”wasmeantasdamningcriticism.Nowitisaprovenmarketingstrategy.ThesituationhasbecomeaZenriddleofculturalsociology.Overthepasthalfcentury,asAmericanpoetrysspecialistaudiencehassteadilyexpanded,itsgeneralreadershiphasdeclinedmoreover,theenginesthathavedrivenPoetrysinstitutionalsuccesstheexplosionofacademicwritingprograms,theproliferationofsubsidizedmagazinesandpresses,theemergenceofacreative-writingcareertrack,andthemigrationofAmericanliteraryculturetotheuniversity-haveunwittinglycontributedtoisdisappearancefromtheviewofthepublic.13:28:13祁山故人2015-11-913:28:13Thesepassagesexploreanotablebehaviorofelephants.Passage1,byabiologist,isadaptedfromanaccountofthesummerof1951,whentheauthorandotherchildrentrackedalargeelephantinsouthernAfrica.Passage2,publishedin2002,isbyawriterwhohasstudiedinteractionsbetweenelephantsandhumans.Passage1Whenwegotourbreathsbackfromtheclimb,wewentrighttothetreewherethegreatbullelephanthadbeenseenstanding,lookingouttosea.Thesandstoneunderourbarefeetwasflat,smooth,andweatherworn.Itfeltgood,butweleftnoprintsonit,andneitherhadtheelephant.Intheend,wehadtoadmitdefeat.Wewerenonearerlearninganythingnewaboutourelephant.Beforesettingoff,Istoodoncemorewheretheoldelephanthadbeenandclosedmyeyes,searchingforsomething,tohisexistence.AndwhenIopenedmyeyesandlookeddown,thereitwas!Scratchedintothesmoothslateofsandstonewasadelicatedesign:acompact,controlled,andgracefularcs,leftandright,butalwaysreturningtoaclusteratthetopandsweepingdowningracefularcs,leftandright,butalwaysreturningtoaclusteratthetop-asthoughtheentiretracinghadbeendoneinonesitting,withoutoncebreakingtheline.Andlyingatrunklengthawaywasaquartzpebblewithanabradedtipjustrightfordoodling.Whatwehadfoundwasascribble,andartifact,somethingthatwasnotproducedbyaccidentorerosion;andapebblethatappearedtobetheinstrumentinvolved.IpickeditupandthoughtIcaughtatraceofsomethingmuskybutcouldntbesure.Itracedoneofthegroovesintheengravingandthepebblefitperfectly.Wehadthe“smokinggun”butnosuspect.Iheldthepebbletightlyinmyclosedhandandhaveitstill.Decadeslater,JeromeWitkin,aprofessorofarteducationatSyracuseUniversity,wasaskedtoevaluatesomeabstractdrawingsdonebyafourteen-year-oldcalledSiri.Helikedthemanddescribedtheworkas“verylyrical,verybeautifulpositive,affirmative,andtenselovely!”Siri,helaterlearned,wasanAsianelephantwhohadproducedthedesignsspontaneouslybyscratchingthemintoaconcretezoofloorwithapebbleheldinhertrunk.SiriwascaughtinthewildinThailandattheageoftwoandneverencouragedtopaintordrawinanyway.Sheseemstohavediscoveredartallonherown,apparentlyforamusement,workingatnightinherlonelyenclosure祁山故人2015-11-913:28:49Passage2Paintingbyelephantshasbecomeapopularzooentertainmentandfundraiser.Theprocessisusuallymechanical;thekeeperchoosesthecolors,dipsthebrushes,andtellstheelephantwhentostartandstop.JoanEmbery,whostarteditallinS