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TABLE OF CONTENTS

Introduction

PART I. POETRY A. Pa ttern Sty listie Analysis

Wi lIiam Shakespeare. Sonnet 33 stylistic Analysis

Sonnet 116 ......... . Assignments for Stylistic Analysis

Sonnet 27 Stylistic Analysis

Sonnet 73 ..•.....• Assignments for Stylistic Analysis

George Gordon Byron. Child!' Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto IV. Stanza CLX XVII I Stylistic Analysis . .....

Childe Harold's Pilgrimafe. Canto IV. Assignments for Sty istic Analysis

Percy Bysshe Shelley. To the Men of England Stylistic Analysis

The Mask of Anarchy ..... . Assignments for Stylistic Analysis

John Keats. The Grasshopper and the Cricket Stylistic Analysis

The Human Seasons ...... . Assll'!nments for Stylistic Analysis

Robert Frost, The Road not Taken Stylistic Analysis

The Kitchen Chimney Assignments for Stylistic Anal.¥sls

The Figure In the Doorway Stylistic Analysis

Tree at my Window Assignments for Stylistic- Analysis B. Independent Sty listie Analysis

William Shakespeare. Sonnet 130 Assignments for Stylistic Analysis

Robert Burns. A Revolutionary Lyric Assignments for Stylistic Analysis

George Gordon Byron. Beppo Assignments for Stylistic Analysis •

Don Juan Assignments for Stylistic Analysis Percy Bysshe Shelley. The Cloud .

Assignments for Stylistic Analysis William Wordsworth. The Daffodils

Assignments for Stylistic Analysis Alfred Tennyson. Break. Break, Break

Assignments for Stylistic Analysis Song •..............

Assignments for Stylistic Analysis Thomas Hood. The Bridge of Sighs

Assignments for Stylistic Analysis Henry Wadsworth Longft'liow. The Song of Hiawatha

Assignments for Stylistic Analysis

Page 5

7 7 8

12 12 13 13 15 III

16 16 20 20 22 23 24 25 26 26 27 28 28 29 32 33 33 34 37 39 38 38 39 39 40 40 41 42 43 43 44 44 45 45 45 46 46 48 49 49

a

Edgar Allan Poe. The Raven Assignments for Stylistic Analysis

Thomas Stearns Eliot. The Family Reunion. Chorus Assignments for Stylistic Analysis ....

Joe Wallace. III Their Singing, Shouthlg Thousands Assignments for Stylistic Analysis

Robert frost. Wind and Window Flower Assignments for Stylistic Analysis

PART II. PROSE A. Pattern Stylistic Analysis

Charles Dickens. Little Dorrlt StyUstic Analysis ......... .

The Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club Assignments for StyUstic Analysis

John Galsworihy. To Let StyllsUc Analysis

The Man of Property ......• Assignments for Stylistic Analysis ....... .

Ernest Hemingway. The Short Happy Life of Francis Macomber Stylistic Analysis

Cat in the Rain ........ . Assignments for Stylistic Analysis B. Independent Stylistic Analysis

Charles Dickens. A Child's History of England Assignments for Stylistic' Analysis

Wi Iliam Thackeray. Vanity Fair . Assignments for Stylistic Analysis

Aldous Huxley. Point Counter Point Assignments for Stylistic Analysis

William Somerset Maugham. The Razor's Edge Assignments for Sty I illtic Analysis

f. Scott fitzgerald. The Great Gatsby Assignments for Stylistic Analysis

James Aldridge. The Hunter Assignments for Stylistic Analysis

PART III. DRAMA A. Pattern Stylistic Analysis

William Shakespeare. Much Ado About Nothing (excerpt I) Stylistic Analysis

Much Ado About Nothing (excerpt II) Assignments for Stylistic Analysis ... . . .

George Bernard Shaw. Widowers' Houses (excerpt I) Stylistic Analysis

Widowers' Houses (excerpt II) Assignments for Stylistic Analysis B. Independent Stylistic Analysis

Richard Brinsley Sheridan. The Rivals ASSignments for Stylistic Analysis

Oscar Wilde. An Ideal Husband . Assignments for Stylistic Analysis

Sean OlCasey. Hall of Healing Assignments for Stylistic Analysis

List of Stylistic Terms Bibliography

0 52 52 53 54 54 55 55

57 57 60 63 66 67 71 77 79 79 85 98

101 102 102 103 104 106 106 111 112 115 116 117 117 120

121 121 123 124 126 127 132 135 140 141 141 143 144 147 14S 151 152 155

INTRODUCTION

Stylistic Analysis is meant as a manual illustrating the theoretical course of lectures on styllstics and enabling the student to start his independent work on styHstic analysis.

The purpose of Stylistic Analysis is to help the students to observe the interaction of form and matter, to see how through the infinite variety of stylistic devices and their multifarious functions the message of the au thor is brought home to the reader.

The manual may be used at seminars in style in the senior courses of institutes of foreign languages

The manual falls into three parts: Poetry (I), Prose (II), Drama (II I) and concludes with a supplemt'nt presenting a list of terms used in Stylistic Analysis, with transcription and translation Into the Russian language.

Each of the three parts (Poetry, Prose and Drama) is divided into two sections: section A-uPattem Stylistic Analysis· and section 8-ulndependent Stylistic Analysis". .

A -"Pattern Stylistic Analysis" includes a number of passages with rigorous stylistic analysis which serves as pattern analysis. After each pattern analysis a text with assignments Is offered. The students are supposed to do the assignments according to the preceding pattern analysis.

The texts both for pattern analysis and for the assIgnments are taken from the works of the same author and present a certain analogy in content and form. Such an arrangement makes analysis easier for the students.

8-"lnclependent Stylistic Analysis" presents a selection of texts supplied by assignments for independent stylistic analysis.

Thus In this section the material is arranged In such a way as to enable the student:

I) to study the rigorous pattern analysis of the given excerpts, 2) to do the assignments to the excerpts offered for analysis accord

ing to the pattern analysis. In section 8 the student Is supposed to do independent analysis,

hence a wider choice of authors and excerpts is presented. Each excerpt is supplied by a plan for independent analysis and a series of assignments. The authors think it. more efficient for teaching purposes to pass over to independent analysis after a close study of pattern analysis.

I t is rnore convenient for the purpose of practical studies of styIistics to present the material in the chronological order. The passages are taken mainly from English classics as samples both for section A and section 8.

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It Is most convenient to start with the study of a closed text. Short poems seem most sultablp for this purpose, as the Interrelation of form and matter Is easier to perceive in them. So the authors suggest to begin the study with the analysis of sonnets by Shakespeare. Prose Is taken for styl istic analysis after poetry, drama -after prose.

A linguistic method of styllstir aQalysls Involves careful observation and detailed and consistent description of language phenomena in the text. It Is necessary to emphasize that a rigorous analysis of expressive means (EMs) and stylistic devices (SDs) clearly seen at first glance Is likely to uncover other, previously unobserved, significant features.

Stylistic analysis has as Its end the clarification of the full meaning and potential of the message of the author.

All language phenomena occurring in the text form a complex, present the whole. The examination of the text In detail may well lead to the need to investigate all related features, lexical, grammatical and phonetic. So, while analyzing the text we must take into account the interrelation of many parts which make up the whole. The interrelation of all linguistic features of the text and the interrelation of form and matter can be brought to the surface by careful study.

One should bear in mind that the problem of stylistic context is closely connected with stylistic analysis. There are two types of stylistic context: microcontext (narrow context) and macrocontext (broad context). The analysis of the texts shows that in many cases the message of the author may be understood only if the broad context (macrocontext) Is taken Into accoun~~ Hence the study of stylistic context is of utmost importance.

In conclusion the authors want to express their sincere gratitude to Professor I.I~. Galperin for his valuable advice and to Kathleen Barnes for her useful remarks on the language of the manual.

Authors

PA R T I POETRY

A. PATTERN STYLISTIC ANALYSIS

SONNETS

A sonnet is a short poem or a stanza, complete in itself, with unity of substance and a fixed form. It consists of 14 lines generally of iambic pentametre rhyming according to a conventionally fixed scheme (often a b abc d c d e f e f g g). It deals with a single emotion, sentiment or reflection wh ich is introduced in the first part and comp leted in the second part. The second part, therefore, often takes the form of a reinforcement of the impression given in the first part from another point of view or some profound reflection suggested by it. The first part of the sonnet is called the octave, the second-the sestet. The last two lines of the sestet present a conclusion drawn from the whole sonnet. These two lines are called the epigrammatic lines of the sonnet.

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE SONNET 33

1. Full many a glorious morning have I seen 2. Flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye, 3. Kissing with golden face the meadows green, 4. Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy; 5. Anon permit the basest clouds to ride 6. With ugly rack on hjs celestial face, 7. And from the forlpm world his visage hide 8. Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace: 9. Even so my sun one early morn did shine

10. With all-triumphant splendour on my brow; 11. But, out, alackl he was but one hour mine;

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12. The region cloud hath mask'd him from me now.

13. Yet him for this my love no whit disdaineth; 14. Suns of the world may stain when heaven's sun

staineth.

Stylistic Analysis

Sonnet 33 is written according to the accepted form. It is traditionally divided into the octave and sestet with concluding epigrammatic lines. The poet dedicates the sonnet either to his friend or his beloved.

The dominant SOl of the sonnet is the metaphor. But the peculiarity of the style can never lie in one dominant SO alone: we must take into account the interrelation of other stylistic features wh ich make up the whole, the stylistic set for the sonnet. It is necessary to point out that a rigorous analysis of features intuitively judged to be stylistically significant, is likely to uncover other, previously unobserved, significant features.

In the opening line of Sonnet 33 the poet introduces himself: the presence of the poet . .and the expression of h is feelings in the first person is typical of lyrical poetry:

I. Full many a glorious morning have I seen.

The inversion (the object of the sentence comes first) emphasizes the main image of the octave-the sun. The following three lines of the first quatrain present syntactically three verbal parts of the complex object ( I have seen a glorious morning flatter ... , kissing ... , gilding ).

The octave gives a concrete picture of the natural phenomenon of the rising sun sometimes hidden by clouds. The image of the sun is presented as an active being which can "flatter", "kiss", "gild", "permit", "steal". These verb-metaphors are aimed at personifying the image of the sun. The nounmetaphors: "an eye", "a face", "a visage", "disgrace" ascribe other qualities characteristic of people to the sun thereby reinforcing the impression of personification.

The analysis of the meaning and stylistic colouring of the epithets "glorious", "sovereign", "celestial" which are used to describe the image of the sun shows that the sun is presented by the poet not only as a human being, but also as a pow~rful sovereign. The epithets "glorious", "sovereign",

1 The abbreviation ·SD" stands for "stylistic device"

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"celestial" are elevated and highly literary words and their stylistic colouring adds to the effect of the power and might of the sun.

Note the way the two stylistic synonyms "face" and "vis-age" are employed in the octave:

5. Anon permit the basest clouds to ride 6. With ugly rack on his celesti~l face, 7. And from the forlorn world his visage hide ...

The noun "face" is a common, "neutral" word, the noun "visage"-its literary, poetic synonym. The poet uses the neutral noun "face" with the elevated epithet "celestial" thus making the combination "celestial face" sound elevated and equal in stylistic colouring to the word "visage".

One more stylistically significant item in the presentation of the main image is the word "alchemy".

"Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy". The words "heavenly alchemy" are used metaphorically. We cannot properly understand the significance of poetic images unless we consider the factors of culture and tradition that affect the poet. The metaphor "heavenly alchemy" reflects the medieval beliefs and prejudices still existing in Shakespeare's time. We know that the chief purpose of alchemy was to change ordinary, base metals into gold. So the metaphor "alchemy" is the ultimate expression of the power of the sun which unlike people possesses the secret of turning ordinary objects into gold.

The word "alchemy" is semantically linked with the epithet "basest" (clouds) in the next line: "Anon permit the basest clouds to ride".

"Basest", the superlative degree of the adjective "base", may be understood in this line in a number of its meanings: I) "bad, wicked"; 2) "dishonourable". These meanings are de term ined by the noun "clouds", by the microcontext. Still the words which precede (especially "alchemy") affect the mean ing of "basest": the two words are drawn together as they can be used in the same semantic sphere of communication: the purpose of alchemy is closely connected with turning base metals into gold. So the macrocontext also affects the meaning of the word "basest" which realizes its third meaning "low in value" (of metals).

Note that the superlative degree ("basest") in tensifies the derogatory emotive colouring of the word. The other

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epithet "ugly" modifying clouds ("with ugly rack") has the same derogatory colouring.

The epithets in the octave reinforce the contrast in the emotive presentation of the images of the sun and clouds and the difference in the poet's illdividual evaluation of them.

Such subtle lIIanipulations of words and their semantic fil'lds are characteristic of Shakespeare. The epithet "glorious" is also used in the sonnet in its several meanings: 1) "splendid" and "majestic"; 2) "honourable"; 3) "delightful"

All stylistically significant features form a complex: syntactical parallelism in the first quatrain is maintained by the parallel rhythmical arrangement of the lines:

2. Flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye, 3. Kissing with golden face the meadows green, 4. Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy.

The same modifier of the rhythm (rhythmic inversion) occurs in the first feet of these three lines:

1. 1

2. 1

3. 1 1

1

1

1

1

1

1

1

1

Rhythmically the lines are absolutel) similarly arranged. The inversion "the meadows green" evidently supports the complete rhythmical parallelism, as semantically the postposition of the epithet here is of no stylistic value.

Such parallelism (both syntactical and rhythmical) in the description of the sunrise corresponds to the real picture of the rising sun gradually Iigh tening first the mountaintops, then the fields Find meadows, and last the pale streams.

The sestet begins with the words "Even so" showing that the ·idea is developed as an analogy of the idea expressed in the octave: "Even so my sun one early morn did shine ... "

The dominant SO of the sonnet. metaphor, is further intensified: the same images of the sun and clouds are employed by the poet, but in a metaphorical sense as the poet speaks of his unhappy state. The sustained metaphor of the sestet forms a complex image:

9. Even so my sun one early morn did shine 10. With all-triumphant splendour on my brow: 11. But, out, alackl he was but one hour mine; 12. The region cloud hath mask't him from me now.

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The poetic form "mom" (morning), and the epithet "alltriumphant splendour" (a stylIstic neologism) describe the sun in the same elevated manner as in the octave. The metonymy "my brow" is trite, but the poetic colouring of the word adds to the effect of elevation. The archaic form of the verb "to have" -"hath" and to a certain extent, the archaic grammar construction "did shine" help to sustain the elevated colouring. "Did shine" may have been chosen for rhythmical reasons as well, since the form "shone" would have affected the iambic pentameter of the line.

The highly emotive tone of the sestet is primarily brought out by the interjections "But, out, alack".

Note that the regular iambic scheme is slightly changed to heighten the emotiveness of the Iinl:.

The emotive function laid bare in interjections affects to a considerable extent the whole sonnet. Epithets and metaphors which possess an emotive meaning, too, support the emotional impact of the utterance.

The compositional structure of the sonnet is based on parallelism and analogy in the presentation of the idea. The parallelism (rather repetition) of the same images in the octave and the sestet ("sun", "clouds") reinforces the effect of the strict balance and compact unity of the sonnet.

The main stylistic features.of Sonnet 33 - metaphor and parallelism - manifest themselves most palpably in the last epigrammatic line. The image of the sun is repeated twice: first it is used as a metaphor ("suns of the world"), then in its direct logical meaning of the celestial body ("heaven's sun"). The verb "stain" is also used twice: in a metaphorical meaning and in its direct meaning; syntactical parallelism in the two clauses of the epigrammatic line corresponds to the principle of parallelism in the presentation of the idea in the sonnet.

It becomes clear that the striking structural principle in this sonnet is parallelism (and repetition in particular) and it manifests itself most intensely in the epigrammatic line.

13. Yet him for this my love no whit disdaineth; 14. Suns of the world may stain when heaven's sun

staineth.

The archaic forms of the verbs "disdain" and "stain" are made prominent as they are rhymes which are generally stressed. The impression of solemnity and elevation produced

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by these EMsl clashes with the meaning of the last line which is not at all solemn. The elevated form of expression modifies the meaning of the conclusion making the line sound humorous.

Note that the functions of rhYR1es here are extended: besides their formal poetical function of marking the end of lines and making rhythm easily perceptible, they play an additional semantic role modifying the meaning of the utterance.


I. Let me not to the marriage of true minds 2. Admit impediments. Love is not love 3. Which alters when it alteration finds, 4. Or bends with the remover to remove: 5. 0, nol it is an ever-fixed mark 6. That looks on tempests, and is never shaken; 7. It is the star to every wandering bark, 8. Whose worth's unknown,- although his height be taken. 9. Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks

10. Within his bending sickle's compass come; II. Love alters not with h is brief hours and weeks, 12. But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

13. If this be error and upon me proved, 14. I never writ, nor no man ever loved.


J. Be ready to paraphrase and interpret any part of the sonnet.

2. Speak on the idea of the sonnet. 3. Discuss the structure of the sonnet. 4. Find the modifiers of rhythm that are used in the

sonnet and comment on them. 5. Speak on the rhymes of the sonnet: a) cases of imper

fect rhyme; b) the rhyme of the epigrammatic lines. 6. Discuss the idea of the epigrammatic lines. 7. Find cases of metaphors and metaphoric periphrases

employed in the sonnet and comment on them.

I The abbreviation "EMs" stands for -expressive means".

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8. Discuss the SD used by the poet in the description of Time.

9. Find cases of alliteration (and other sound repetition) that help to bring out the idea of the sonnet (lines 3, 4).

10. State the stylistic function of the interjections: "0, no!" (line 5).

11. Summing up the analysis of the sonnet speak on the poet's conception of love and the various SDs used to bring the poet's idea home. Express your own attitude to the subject.


1. Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed, 2. The dear repose for limbs with travel tired; 3. But then begins a journey in my head, 4. To work my mind, when body's work's expired: 5. For then my thoughts, from far where I abide, 6. Intend a zealous pilgrimage to thee, 7. And keep my drooping eyelids open wide, 8. Looking on darkness which the blind do see: 9. Save that my soul's imaginary sight

10. Presents thy shadow to my sightless view, II. Which, like a jewel hung in ghastly night, 12. Makes black night beauteous and her old face new.

13. Lol thus, by day my limbs, by night my mind, 14. For thee and for myself no quiet find.

Stylistic Analysis

The structure of the sonnet is not strictly conventional, i.e. it is not divided into the octave and the sestet.

However it must be noted that the poet tackles the same theme (love) in different ways.

Analysing the rhythmical pattern of the sonnet one may find some deviations from the conventional scheme.

Note: 1) Rhythmical inversion in lines 1, 8, 9; 2) the cases where it is possible to use spondee as an intensifier (an intensifying modifier of rhythm) in lines 8, 12, 14.

Note that spondee emphasizes the blackness of the ghastly night, and the contrast between its ugliness and the beauty of the vision, which "makes black night beauteous and her old face new" (lines 8, 12).

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Spondee in the epigrammatic line of the sonnet stresses the poet's attitude towards the objects of his love, the intensity of his feelings which deprivE's the poet of "quiet", rest both physical or mental.

Note that the imagery employed by the poet is none the less impressive for being simp1e and realistic.

The poet compares his train of thoughts with the journey of a pilgrim to some sacred place: "For then my thoughts, from far where I abide, intend a zealous pilgrimage to thee ... " (lines 5, 6).

The metaph')rs "journey in my head" (line 3) and "pilgrimage" (line 6) as well as the epithet "zealous" (line 6) are keyed to one purpose, namely, to stress she poet's longing for his beloved. Hence a long journey is the key image here.

Note the use of synonyms "travel", "journey", "pilgrimage" in the sonnet.

Pay attention to the fact that the sonnet opens with the inversion "Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed ... ". Th is SD stresses the poet's physical exhaustion and his craving for rest.

Note that the poet uses ~work" in the first case as the infinitive ("to work my mind'), in the second case the word "work" is a noun ("when body's work's expired").

This peculiar manipulation with words produces the effect of repetition which brings out the contrast between the physical condition of the poet and his mental state.

This contrast may be regarded as a kind of antithesis based on the use of antonyms ("mind"-"body").

Developing his theme further the poet passes over to another set of contrasting images; he describes the ghastl y darkness of night and the shining beauty of his vision ("which ... makes black night beauteous, and her old face new").

This contrast is revealed through various means. The intensity of darkness is enhanced by the striking use of combinations which have the character of oxymoron: "darkness which the blind do see", "sightless view"

The contrast between the ugliness of "ghastly night" and the beauty of the poet's vision is revealed most emphatically by the use of a sustained simile (line 11) "which, like a jewel hung in ghastly night, makes black night beauteous and her old face new".

Note that such adjectives as "black", "old", "new", "beauteous" opposed to each other for the sake of contrast, acquire a great emotional force and become epithets.

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The epigrammatic lines of the sonnet sum up the idea of the poet, whose overwhelming feeling for h is beloved is revealed with a striking force. .

The parallel constructions help to bring out the intensity of the poet's feelings.

Note the subtle use of antonyms ("day"-"night") and contextual antonyms ("my limbs"-"my mind"). These linguistic means supported by parallelism create the antithesis which culminates the whole sonnet.


I. That time of year thou mayst in me behold 2. When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang 3. Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, 4. Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. 5. In me thou see'st the twilight of such day 6. As after sunset fadeth in the west, 7. Which by and by black night doth take away, 8. Death's second self, that seals up all in rest. 9. In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire

10. That on the ashes of his youth doth lie, 11. As the death-bed whereon it must expire 12. Consumed with that which it was nourish'd by.

13. This thou perceivest, which makes thy love more strong 14. To love that well which thou must leave ere long.


I. Read the sonnet and be ready to translate and paraphrase any part of it.

2. Speak on the structure of the sonnet. 3. Speak on the idea of the sonnet and on the images

the poet resorts to in describing his decline. 4. Comment on the implication in the phrase "consumed

with that which it was nourish'd by". Note the contrast between the words "to consume" and "to nourish ", which are contextual antonyms here.

5. Discuss the thought expressed in the epigrammatic lines of the sonnet. •

6. Comment on the following assertion made by a critic that "Shakespeare thought in terms of metaphors".

7. Discuss the use of metaphors in the sonnet. Use the

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following questions as a guide: a) What kinds of metaphors are used in the sonnet? b) From where does the poet draw his metaphors? c) What idea is revealed through the metaphors employed in the sonnet?

8. Pick out the cases where periphrasis is used, and comment on them.

9. State what SDs are used in the poet's description of night (lines 7, 8) and comment on them.

10. Pick out the archaic words and forms which occur in the sonnet and explain their use there.

11. State what syntactical SD is used in the first line of the sonnet, find similar cases (lines 5, 9, 13) and comment on them.

12. Pick out the cases of parallelism and discuss the function of this SD in the sonnet.

13. Note deviations from the conventional rhythmical pattern (in line 8) and comment on them.

14. Discuss the possible use of a modifier of rhythm (spondee) in line 14: "To love that well which thou must leave ere long".

15. Summing up the anJilysis of the sonnet speak on its message and the main SDs used by the poet to achieve the desired effect.

GEORGE GORDON BYRON CHILDE HAROLD'S PILGRIMAGE

Canto IV Stanza CLXXVIII

1. There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, 2. There is a rapture on the lonely shore, 3. There is society, where none intrudes, 4. By the deep Sea, and Music in its roar: 5. I love not Man the less, but Nature more, 6. From these our interviews, in which I steal 7. From all I may be, or have been before, 8. To mingle with the Universe, and feel 9. What I can ne'er express, yet cannot all conceal.

StylistiC Analysis

The poem "Childe Harold's Pilgrimage" is an example of classical syllabo-accented verse. In this poem Byron employs the so-called Spenserian Stanza. This stanza was introduced by Edmund Spenser in his poem "The Fairy Queen".

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The Spenserian stanza consists of nine lines. The first eight lines are iambic pentameters and the last line has an extra foot-it is iambic hexameter. The rhyming scheme is a b a b b c b c c.

Byron glorifies Nature and opposes it to the corrupted society of his time from which he wants to flee.

The language of the poem is simple: it contains only common and common literary words (such as "rapture", "mingle", "Universe"), no poetic or archaic terms. The syntactical structure of sentences is simple and logical. The two instances of enjambment are not heavy (lines 6-7 and 8-9), they add to the natural character of speech. The construction "love not" in line 5 is the only archaic construction used both to stress the grammatical meaning of negation and thus intensifying the contrast expressed here ("not Man""'but Nature") and to preserve the pentametre of the line.

The poetic construction "ne'er" (line 9) and a number of capitalized nouns ("Sea", "Music", "Man", "Nature", "Universe") are traditional poetic forms.

The basic contrast of the stanza is brought out in three sets of antithesis which is the main SD here: the first instance being the first three lines:

I. There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, 2. There is a rapture on the lonely shore, 3. There is society where none int1r~n' I'eM.'_i:":;:::-:-:~ __

The second instance is line 5: Lj}jJJ--;;.J'lZA~»9sP': 5. 1 love not Man the less, but Nru;:~

And the third-the last line: . =~,~~: '_~u"S --~~J 9. What 1 can ne'er express, yet cannot all co~ar -

These three instances of antithesis differ as to their lin-guistic peculiarities and stylistic effect. The idea of contrast (opposition) manifests itself most intensely in line 5: "I love not Man the less, but Nature more,"-two contrasting statements are based on syntactical parallelism (the second statement here is elliptical) and on two pairs of opposing words: the words "less"- "more" are antonyms. and "Man"-"Nature" m~y be regarded as contextual antonyms as Man is looked upon by the poet as something opposed to Nature. The conjunction "but" stresses the opposition and adds to the quality _of predictability. as on seeing the conjunction "but" the reader .expects J.ltontrastin~·slatement. 2-2896 17

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The first three lines present quite a different kind of antithesis which is not so common.

The idea of opposition is brought out quite unexpectedly and imperceptibly and it is the interplay of all three lines which gives them the dominant. tone of contrast.

]. There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, 2. There is a rapture on the lonely shore, 3. There is society, where none intrudes.

The slow quiet movement of though t in these lines corresponds to the lyrical, meditative tone of the stanza and is maintained by absolute parallelism both syntactical and rhythmical. I

Note the identical rhythmical arrangement of the linesthe iambic scheme is twice violated by pyrrhic (a foot of two unstressed syllables) in the first and the third foot:

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The parallelism of the lines manifests itself in the similar general meaning of the adverbial modifiers of place-"in the pathless woods", "on-.the lonely shore", "where none intrudes", all denoting a lonely place. They may be regarded as contextual synonyms but the idea of solitude is most obvious in the third line-"where none intrudes". Thus a climatic arrangement is achieved. Besides, the third line presen ts a clear case of opposit ion: "There is society, where none intrudes."

"Society" (in the meaning of "company", "companionship") is opposed to "where none intrudes", and the words "society" and "none" are contextual antonyms in the line. Likewise, "society" in line 3 is opposed to other contextual synonyms: "society"-"the pathless woods"; "society"-"the lonely shore".

The structure of opposition which is quite obvious in the line "There is society, where none intrudes" affects stylistically the preceding two lines built on the same syntactical and rhythmical principle. The interplay of the three sets of similar oppositions in identical construction produces

1 In his work "Linguistics and Poetics" R. Jacobson points out that the structure of poetry is that of parallelism and that rhyme and rhythm are only "a particular condensed case of much more general, we may e\ en say the fundamental problem of poetry, namely parallelism" (Slyle in Language, ed. by Th. A. Sebeok, 1966, p. 368).

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the effed of antithesis. As the third line is more emphatic and signJicant, the impression of climax is achieved:

1. There is a pleasure in the path less woods, 2. There is a rapture on the lonely shore, 3. There is society, where none intrudes,

,Line 4: "By the deep Sea, and Music in its roar" is grammatically and logically linked with the preceding lines.

Note the peculiar syntax of the line: the two parts of the line connected by the conjunction "and" are logically and syntactically heterogeneous. "By the deep Sea" is an adverbial modifier of place of the preceding line which clarifies the clause "where none intrudes"; "and Music in its roar" is a new clause, expressing a kind of afterthought, grammatically it is analogous to the previous sentences "There is a pleasure ... ", "There is a rapture ... ", "There is society ... ", where the construction "there is" is omitted. The elliptical sentence "And Music in its roar" emphasizes the poet's attitude to Nature (pay attention especially to the metaphor "Music"). Besides, the peculiar syntactical structure of the line-the SD of cumulation, adds to a natural, even colloquial character of speech.

The last antithesis generalizes the poet's attitude to ~ature. The poet feeling himseU part of Nature is unable to clearly express his feelings:

9. What I can ne'er express, yet cannot alI conceal.

Linguistically this antithesis is based on parallel constructions, the use of the contextual antonyms "express""conceal" and the synonymous repetition "can ne'er""cannot",

The vocabulary of the stanza is simple, and the poet's usage of words is common too, stil1 the words "interview", "mingle", "steal" undergo in the stanza a slight shift of meaning, a slight generalization.

6. From these our interviews, in which I steal 7. From al1 I may be, or have been before, 8. To mingle with the Universe ...

The sh ift of meanigg is too sligh t to make these words in this particular context metaphors. But this peculiar treatment of the words contributes to the concreteness and emotiveness of description stressing once again the poet's attitude to Nature. 2- 19

Note the rhythmicatstructure of the stanza, which main. tains its syntactical peculiarities.

The instance of syntactical parallelism in the first three lines supported by rhythmical parallelism, with the same rhythmic modifiers in all three Iin~, h.as been mentioned.

The culminating point of the basic contrast of the stanza expressed in line 5 is intensified by the peculiar rhythm of the line: "I love not Man the less, but Nature more"

Spondee occurs in the second foot and the line becomes rhythmically quite different from the preceding lines. By breaking the monotony of the rhythmical scheme the poet enhances the logical and emotive significance of the line.

GEORGE GORDON BYRON CHILDE HAROLD'S PILGRIMAGE

Canto IV Stanza CLXXIX

1. Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean-roll I 2. Ten thousand fleets sweep_ over thee in vain; 3. Man marks the earth with ruin-his control 4. Stops with the shore;-upon the watery plain 5. The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain 6. A shadow of man's ravage, save his own, 7. When, for a moment, like a drop of rain, 8. He sinks _nto thy depths with bubbling groan, 9. Without a grave, unknell'd, uncoffin'd, and unknown.

Stanza CLXXX

1. His steps are not upon thy paths,-thy fields 2. Are not a spoil for him,-thou dost arise 3. And shake him from thee; the vile strength he wields 4. For Earth's destruction thou dost all despise, 5. Spurning him from thy bosom to the skies, 6. And send'st him, shivering in thy playful spray 7. And howling, to his Gods, where haply lies 8. His petty hope in some near port or bay, 9. And dashest him again to earth:-there let him lay.


1. What is the subject-matter and the idea of stanzas CLXXIX and CLXXX?

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2. Account for the use of the pronouns "thou", "thee", "thy" modifying the word "Ocean" (Stanza CLXXIX).

3. What is the stylistic function of the apostrophe (address) in the first line: "Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean-roll"?

4. What stylistic effect is achieved by the hyperbole "Ten thousand fleets ... "?

5. What other SOs and EMs are employed in stanza CLXXIX to describe the ocean?

6. Summing up all EMs and SOs used to depict the ocean state what impression the poet seeks to evoke?

7. Compare the meanings of the synonyms used to depict man: "ruin", "wrecks", "(a shadow of man's) ravage'" and comment on their arrangement (Stanza CLXXIX). What stylistic effect is achieved by the peculiar arrangement of the synonyms where every successive synonym presents a less significant concept?

8. What impression is achieved by the use of the verb "sink" (and not "drown") in line 8 (Stanza CLXXIX)?

9. Owell on the peculiarity of the phonetic form of the words "unknell'd, uncoffin'd, and unknown" in the last line. Comment on the contextual meanings the words "unknell'd" and "uncoffin'd" acquire in this line. (Stanza CLXXIX).

10. What other SOs and EMs are employed in Stanza CLXXIX to depict man?

ll. Summing up all EMs and SOs used to describe man state what impression the poet tries to evoke in the reader?

12. Read lines 3, 4, 5 (Stanza CLXXIX) once again and see what SO is used to emphasize the effect of contrast between the images of "Ocean" and "Man".

Note a) the use of synonyms (and contextual synonyms) and antonyms; b) the syntactical arrangement of the sentences; c) the peculiarity of the rhythm (rhythmic modifiers, enjambment).

13. Characterize the Spenserian stanza (its rhythm, rhymes) and dwell on the instances of rhythmic modifiers; especially account for the use of spondee and trochee in lines 2, 3, 4.

14. Find instances of enjambment which help to heighten the emotional tension of stanza CLXX I X.

15. Read stanza ctxx X and pick out EMs and SOs used to emphasize the contrast between man and ocean and the poet's attitude to both. Point out SOs in this stanza and compare them with those used in the preceding stanza.

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PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY TO THE MEN OF ENGLAND

1. Men of England, wherefore plough For the lords who lay ye low? Wherefore weave with toil and- care, The rich robes your tyrants wear?

2. Wherefore feed, and clothe, and save, From the cradle to the grave, Those ungrateful drones who would Drain your sweat-nay, drink your blood I

3. Wherefore, Bees of England, forge Many a weapon, chain and scourge, That these stingless drones may spoil The forced produce of your toil?

4. Have ye leisure, comfort, calm, Shelter, food, love's gentle balm? Or what is it ye buy so -dear With your pain and with your fear?

5. The seed ye sow, another reaps; The wealth ye find, another keeps; The robes ye weave, another wears; The arms ye forge, another bears.

6. Sow seed-but let no jyrant reap; Find wealth ,-let no impostor heap; Weave robes,-let no idler wear; Forge arms,-in your defence to bear.

7. Shrink to your cellars, holes, and cells; In halls ye deck, another dwells. Wh y sh ake the ch ains ye wrough t? Ye see The steel ye tempered glance on yeo

8. With plough and spade, and hoe and loom, Trace your· grave, and build your tomb,

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And weave your winding-sheet, till fair England be your sepulchre.

Stylistic Analysis

The poem is an expression of Shelley's just indignation at the cruelty of capitalist exploitation. Thus it is· imbued with bitter irony and wrath. The poem is built on a contrast between "Men of England"-the labourers, those who create real values, and the lords, "the ungrateful drones" who exploit the toilers-"drink their blood".

The poem is built up as an address "to the Men of England". The beginning of the poem (the first two lines) is an appeal expressed through the SO of rhetorical question:

Men of England, wherefore plough For the lords who lay ye low?

The idea expressed in this question is sustained through the first three stanzas. The anaphoric repetition: "wherefore weave", "wherefore feed", "wherefore, Bees of England" stresses the idea-the uselessness of "toil and care" wasted on "those ungrateful drones". In the fourth stanza the climatic enumeration: "Have ye leisure, comfort, calm .. ." brings out a rhetorical question:

Or what is it ye buy so dear With your pain and with your fear?

The fifth stanza reveals the real state of things: the striking contrast between the toilers and the exploiters who profit by their labour is expressed through the use of the syntactical SO of parallel constructions. These constructions form a kind of antithesis:

The seed ye sow, another reaps; The wealth ye find, another keeps; ...

The sixth stanza offers a solution of the problem, a way out of the unbearable situation. The use of parallel constructions here is most efficient, a series of imperative sentences brings out the climax:

Sow seed -but let no tyrant reap; Find wealth,-let no impostor heap; ...

The last two stanzas present a kind of ironical address, directed against those who shrink from struggle to their "cellars, holes, and cells", those who seek no way out and submit to tyranny and cruel exploitation: they weave their own "winding-sheet", their fate is most tragic and disas-

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trous. If they do not fight against the monstrous social injustice they are doomed-"England be your sepulchre".

The metrical pattern of the poem is that of trochee: 1 I

The rhyming scheme is couplet (a a b b). Note the imperfect rhyme in the 1st stanza.

The major SOs used in the poem are syntactical SOs: rhetorical questions, various kinds of repetition, parallel constructions, climax. These SOs are used throughout the whole poem and create a strong emotional effect.

The imagery employed in the poem is used with the purpose of enhancing the contrast between the toilers and the oppressors. Note the metaphors-"Bees of England", "those ungrateful drones", "drain your sweat-nay, drink your blood". The verb metaphors ("drain", "drink") though trite add to the emotional appeal of the poem.

The metaphors used in the last stanza: "And weave your winding-sheet", "England be your sepulchre" present a kind of sinister warning-those \vho do not struggle will perish.

One should note another lexical SO used in the poem-metonymy: "from the cradle to the grave", "with plough and spade, and hoe and loom ... ". The interaction of metaphor and metonymy in the seventh stanza increases the effect created by the use of other SDs: "the steel ye tempered glance on ye"

In conclusion one must say that the use of archaic forms of pronouns ("thee" "ye") adds to the solemn atmosphere created by the use of lexical and syntactical SDs and heightens the emotional appeal of the poem.

PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY THE MASK OF ANARCHY

1. Men of England, Heirs of Glory, Heroes of unwritten story, Nurslings of one mighty mother, Hopes of her, and one another!

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2. Rise, like lions after slumber, In unvanquishable number, Shake your chains to earth like dew, Which in sleep had falI'n on youYe are many-they are few.

3. What is Freedom? Ye can tell That which Slavery is too wellFor its very name has grown To an echo of your own.

4. 'Tis to work, and have such pay As just keeps life from day to day In your limbs as in a cell For the tyrant's use to dwell:

5. So that ye for them are made, Loom, and plough, and sword, and spade; With or without your own will, bent To their defence and nourishment.

6. 'Tis to see your children weak With their mothers pine and peak, When the winter winds are bleak;They are dying whilst I speak.

7. 'Tis to hunger for such diet As the rich man in h is riot Cast to the fat dogs that lie Surfeiting beneath his eye.

. . 'Tis to be a slave in soul, And to hold no strong control Over your own wills, but be All that others make of yeo


1. Speak on the idea expressed in the poem. 2. Analyse lexical EMs and SOs Shelley uses to reveal

h is attitude to the working people of England. 3. Speak on the syntactical EMs and SOs used in the

poem: parallel constructions, anaphorical repetition, antitheses, address, exclamatory sentences.

4. Comment on the answers to the question "What is freedom?" and say how they reveal the poet's attitude towards the state of things in England.

5. Pick out poetic words and poetic constructions that add to the solemn tone of the poem.

6. Speak on the rhythmical arrangement and rhymes of the poem. •

7. Summing up the stylistic analysis of the poem speak on the message and on the main SOs through which it is brought home.

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8. Compare this excerpt to the poem "To the Men of England". Speak on the revolutionary spirit of these poems and discuss how the interrelation of form and matter is realized.

JOHN KEAtS THE GRASSHOPPER AND THE CRICKET

]. The poetry of earth is never dead: 2. When all the birds are faint with the hot sun, 3. And hide in cooling trees. a voice will run 4. From hedge to hedge about the new mown mead; 5. That is the Grasshopper's-he takes the lead 6. In summer luxury.-he has never done 7. With his delights; for when tired out with fun, 8. He rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed. 9. The poetry of earth is ceasing never:

]0. On a lone winter evening, when the frost 11. Has wrough t a silence, from the stove there shrills 12. The Cricket's song, in warmth increasing ever, 13. And seems to one, in c;lfowsiness half lost, 14. The Grasshopper's among some grassy hills.

Stylistic Analysis

The poem is devoted to the everlasting beauty of Nature wh ich is the source of constant inspiration to poetry.

The poem is written in the form of a sonnet and falls into two parts. The opening lines of the poem "The poetry of earth is never dead" mark the beginning of the first part (octave). The second part begins with the lines: "The poetry of earth is ceasing never". In this part (sestet) the idea of the everlasting beauty of nature is developed in a new surrounding.

It should be noted that the metaphor "poetry" is used throughout the whole poem.

The first part of the poem gives a vivid description of summer, "when all the birds are faint with the hot sun"; the poetry of summer is embodied in the Grasshopper-his "voice will run from hedge to hedge" glorifying the beauty of Nature.

The second part of the poem begins with the line "The poetry of earth is ceasing never". This is an example of a synonymous repetition of the opening line of the poem: "The poetry of earth is never dead". The second part of the poem

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presents a contrast to the first. It is a long winter evening instead of a hot summer day. A cold silence prevails instead of a merry hum of summer: "the frost has wrought a sUence", the metaphor "wrought a silence·' enhances the atmosphere of loneliness and cold opposed to the radiance of a summer day. In that cold silence we hear "the Cricket's song, in warmth increasing ever". And the image of a glorious summer noon springs before our mental vision. The beauty of Nature finds its expression in all seasons, it is an infinite source of inspiration and joy.

The poem is written in iambic pentameter, note several cases of run on-lines (enjambment)-lines 5, 6 and 5, 6, 7, etc.

The vocabulary used by the poet is simple, deliberately devoid of archaisms and poetisms to suit the main idea and the tone of the poem. The epithets, also simple: "the hot sun", "cooling trees", "pleasant weed", "a lone winter evening" reveal the poet's attitude to Nature. It should be noted that the nouns "Grasshopper" and "Cricket" are capitalized (are written with the capital letter). This is a kind of graphic SD as the poet regards both "The Cricket" and "The Grasshopper" as symbols of the never ceasing poetry of Nature.

JOHN KEATS

THE HUMAN SEASONS

1. Four Seasons fill the measure of the year; There are four seasons in the mind of man;

He has his lusty Spring, when fancy clear Takes in all beauty with an easy span:

2. He has his Summer, when luxuriously Spring's honey'd cud of youthful thought he loves

To ruminate, and by such dreaming nigh His nearest unto heaven: quiet coves

3. His soul has in its Autumn, when his wings He furleth close; contented so to look

On mists in idleness-to let fair things Pass by unheeded as a threshold brook:

4. He has his Winter too of pale misfeature, Or else he would forgo his mortal nature.

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I. Speak on the subject-matter and the idea of the poem. 2. Analyse the structure of the poem (its stanzas, rhythm,

rhymes), note instances of enjambment and speak on its stylistic function. •

3. Pick out various types of metaphors and comment on their stylistic effect.

4. Comment on the meaning and stylistic peculiarities of the following lines: "Spring's honey'd cud of youthful though t he loves" and "to let fair th ings pass by unheeded as a threshold brook"

5. Dwell on the implication suggested by the poet in the two last lines of the poem.

6. Pick out epithets, state their types and structure and speak on their stylistic function.

7. Summing up the analysis speak on the allegoric character of the poem.

B. Compare the two poems by Keats and speak on the source of imagery in them and the role Nature plays in his poetry.

ROBERT FROST THE ROAD NOT TAKEN

I. Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveller, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth;

2. Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same,

3. And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another dayl Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back.

4. I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence:

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Two roads diverged in a wood, and II took the one less travelled by, And that has made all the difference.

Stylistic Analysis

The poem "The Road not Taken" is casual in its subjectmatter, describing a particular place at a particular time: once while travelling alone the poet stopped at a fork in the road, undecided which path to take. Finally he chose one because it seemed a little less frequented.

In analysing this poem we must point out its three main features: 1) the effect of striking concreteness and simplicity; 2) the impression of a melancholy meditating tone; 3) the implication suggested by the poet as the ultimate stylistic effect.

These three peculiarities are linked and interwoven to produce a joint impression, the EMs and SOs of the poem are aimed at achieving the desired effect.

The poet describes a particular autumn wood: "Two roads diverged in a yellow wood", and two paths: one-"bent in the undergrowth", the other "was grassy and wanted wear". All the facts consistently presented in the poem stress the concreteness of the image (the third stanza):

And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black.

The poet consistently refers to himself as a traveller in a definite wood described precisely one autumn day (the first stanza):

And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveller,

SOs used in describing the picture are aimed at arousing a concrete image: epithets "yellow", "grassy", metonymical periphrasis "wanted wear" and "no step had trodden black" suggesting paths which are seldom used.

A careful and inclusive analysis must consider linguistic items at various levels, as all stylistically significant features form a complex.

The meditative tone of reminiscence is established from the very first. The most :mportant factor in achieving this effect is a phonetic SO: a peculiar rhyming scheme a b a a b which suggests a slow melancholy intonation. The stanza of the poem consists of five lines, lines 3 and 4 having the same

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rhyme as line 1 produce a peculiar effect of sound anadiplosis. This sound (or rhyme) anadiplosis stresses the impression of a slow movement of thoughts. Three instances of the repetition of the conjunction "and" (polysyndeton) in the first stanza add to the serene and-pensive tone of the poem:

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveller, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth ...

The poem is written in iambic meter in wh ich the unstressed syllable is followed by a stressed one. The line consists of four iambic feet, so the meter is called iambic tetrameter and is graphically tepresented thus:

! 1 1

We find a number of irregularities (rhythmic modifiers) in the metrical pattern of the poem which are quite common in English verse. The rhythmic modifiers of spondee and rhythmic inversion break to'some extent the metrical pattern of the poem and help the poet to create the impression of lively colloquial English.

Spondee (a feet of two stressed syllables) occurs in the first line of the first stanza (the 1st foot):

1 I Two roads diverged

and in the fourth line of the last stanza (the 3rd foot):

1 I 1 I 1 I 1 I I took the one less travelled by,

Rhythmic inversion (the intrusion of a trochee) occurs in the second line of the last stanza twice (in the 1 st and 2nd feet):

I I 1 I 1

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Enjambment or run-on-Iine (the transfer of a part of a syntagm from one line to the following) is also a violation of the requirements of the verse according to which the line must ~e a more or less complete unit in itself. Enjambment occurs a number of times in the poem, some instances are acutely felt, as in the following lines (the first stanza):

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And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveller, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could

The lines seem to be torn into two halves, the second half running on to the next line.

The impression of colloquial intonation of reminiscence is mainly created in the poem through enjambment. The pause in the middle of the line (see the third lines in the first and the last stanzas) makes the tone of the lines natural and meditating. The combination of the SDs of enjambment and anadiplosis (the repetition of the pronoun "I" at the end of the line and at the beginning of the next line) in the last stanza produces the impression of a kind of afterthought uttered quite naturally after a pause:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and II took the one less travelled by,

The compositional structure of the poem is based on framing: the line "Two roads diverged in a wood ... " occurs in the first and the last stanzas and adds to the effect of the plain meditative tone of the poem too. Lexical EMs and SDs emphasize the melancholy tone of the poem. Note the emotionally coloured word "so,rry" in the first stanza, the interjection and the exclamatory sentence in the third stanza u~h, I kept the first for another dayl", the emotionally coloured "with a sigh" in the fourth stanza-all contribute to the same effect.

The meditative tone of the poem and its melancholy colouring seem incongruous with the simple particular fact imparted by the poet. The tone and the emotional colouring suggest deeper ideas.

The meaning of some lines gives us the key to the ideas that lie beneath the surface. The two lines in the third stanza differ from the preceding stanzas in their wording:

Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back.

I f we compare the pairs of synonyms occurring in the first stanza and in this stanza: "road"-"way", "travel""come", we shall notice that in the third stanza, the words are more abstract than their corresponding synonyms in the first stanza. These pairs of synonyms suggest the combination of the local and the universal-a concrete road in a yellow

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wood and a way in We. The last stanza rings as a definite conclusion:

I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a woed, .and II took the one less travelled by, And that has made all the difference.

Note the repetition of the line "Two roads diverged in a wood ... " with a slight change (the word "wood" is not modified by the epithet "yellow"); the synonymical repetition: "I took the one less travelled by" which sounds like a more general statement if we compare it with the metonymical periphrases occurring in the preceding stanzas "wanted wear" and "In leaves no step had trodden black". These language peculiarities of the last stanza make it devoid of the impression of concreteness. The use of the trite hyperbole "ages and ages hence" (compare with the concrete expression "that morning" in the third stanza) emphasizes the effect of non-concreteness too.

The last line "And that has made all the difference" suggests a more serious interpretation of the whole stanza and sums up all that was said before, in a generalized way. The basic combination of the concrete and the general, the local and the universal is brought out in the last two stanzas. The symbolic meaning of the poem becomes clear: Robert Frost has gone his own way in life and literature and this progress is indicated in the poem.

ROBE RT FROST THE KITCHEN CHIMNEY

1. Builder, in building the little house, In every way you may please yourself; But please please me in the kitchen chimney: Don't build me a chimney upon a shelf.

2. However far you must go for bricks, Whatever they cost a-piece or a pound, Buy me enough for a full-length chimney, And build the chimney clear from the ground.

3. It's not that I am greatly afraid of fire, But I never heard of a house that throve

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(And I know of one that didn't thrive) Where the ch imney started above the stove.

4. And I dread the ominous stain of tar That there always is on the papered walls, And the smell of fire drowned in rain That there always is when the chimney's false.

5. A shelf's for a clock or vase or picture, Bu t I don't see why it should have to bear A chimney that only would serve to remind me Of castles I used to build in air.


I. Pick out cases in which Frost gives concrete descriptions of building the kitchen chimney.

2. Comment on the poet's address to the builder that opens the first stanza and speak on the peculiar use of the words "please" in this stanza.

3. Say why it is important to "build the chimney clear from the ground". Note the implication in the third stanza "But I never heard of a house that throve (and I know of one that didn't thrive) where the chimney started aboye the stove".

4. Comment on the poet's dread of "the ominous stain of tar" (the fourth stanza) and say what may be implied in the lines: "And the smell of fire drowned in rain that there always is when the chimney's false".

5. Speak on the meaning of the expression "to build castles in the air" and say why the poet alludes to this expression in the conclusion of his poem.

6. Conunent on the conversational tone Frost builds into his verse. Speak on the EMs and SDs that show, "Frost's poems are people talking" as one of his critics maintained.

7. Discuss the form of the poem, its rhythm and rhyme. 8. Summing up the analysis speak about the message of

the poem and the main SDs employed by the poet.

RQBERT FROST THE FIGURE IN THE DOORWAY

1. The grade surmounted, we were riding high 2. Through level mountains nothing to the eye ~2196 55

3. But scrub oak, scrub oak and the lack of earth 4. That kept the oaks from getting any girth. 5. But as through the monotony we ran, 6. We came to where there was a living man. 7. His great gaunt figure filled. the cabin door, 8. And had he fallen inward on the floor, 9. He must have measured to the further wall.

10. But we who passed were not to see him fall. II. The miles and miles he lived from anywhere 12. Were evidently something he could bear. 13. He stood unshaken, and if grim and gaunt, 14. It was not necessarily from want. 15. He had the oaks for heating and for light. 16. He had a hen, he had a pig in sight. 17. He had a well, he had the rain to catch. lB. He had a ten by twenty garden patch. 19. Nor did he lack for common entertainment. 20. That I assume was what our passing train meant. 21. He could look at us in our diner eating, 22. And if so moved uncurl a hand in greeting.

Stylistic Analysis

The poem tells a part of a story. The method of presenting the character is different from that of other poems. The character of this poem flashed suddenly into our vision glimpsed by the poet from the window of a dining car. The setting is real: the poet describes the train speeding through the mountains:

I. The grade surmounted, we were riding high 2. Through level mountains nothing to the eye 3. But scrub oak, scrub oak and the lack of earth 4. That kept the oaks from getting any girth.

The poet describes a particular kind of tree, not trees in general. The word "oak" occurs four times in the poem; and three times in two lines only (lines 3-4). This repetition stresses the monotony of the landscape seen from the passing train. The word "monotony" in line 5 sums up the poet's impression:

5. But as through the monotony we ran,

The effect of monotony is still emphasized by sound repetition: the sound [k J is repeated seven times and [g J-84

twice (in lines 3-4). The monotonous repetition of guttural sounds produces an unpleasant sound effect and may be regarded as a kind of onomatopoeia stressing the impression of the scantiness of the earth and grimness of the mountains.

Still in these grim mountains there live people and the poet passes over to the portrayal of a living man: "We came to where there was a living man". He describes him as he sees him from the train and the SDs employed by the poet are aimed at achieving the effect of real vision from outside and from below:

7. His great gaunt figure filled the cabin door, 8. And had he fallen inward on the floor, 9. He must have m~asured to the further wall.

The epithets "great", "gaunt" and the metaphor "figure filled the cabin door" underline the unusual height of the man as he is glimpsed from a passing train.

Note pairs of alliteration [g), [g J- If], [f) making the line sound more significant.

The effect of his extraordinary height is further pro-longed by the poet's suggestion:

8. And had he fallen inward on the floor, 9. He must have measured to the further wall.

This suggestion is presented by a simile of the structural type expressed by a subordinate clause of condition (unreal condition).

Th is simile wh ich strikes us as unexpected and odd is actually quite a real and vivid impression if we take into consideration the train passing below and the poet in the train looking at the man from below: the figure in the doorway must have looked extraordinary tall to him.

In the next line the poet reminds the reader of his point of view and the point of view of those in the train:

10. But we who passed were not to see him fall.

The word "fall" is undoubtedly used here as an element of the simile of the preceding lines, so its meaning in the line should be detennined in a broader context, including lines 8-9 (a macroconteit).

Up till now the picture the poet depicts is of a real particular fact, the next lines contain a hjnt of a broader interpretation: .. 85

II. The miles and miles he lived from anywhere 12. Were evidently something he could bear.

The trite metonymy "the miles and miles" suggests a more general idea of space or tim& and the indefinite pronoun "anywhere" adds to this effect. The lines suggest ideas unlimited by space. They contain a certain implication of unknown people living a life alien to the poet. In the light of this implication the epithet "unshaken" in the next line may be interpreted in various ways:

13. He stood unshaken, and if grim and gaunt, 14. It was not necessarily from want.

The epithet "unshaken" is used here in several meanings or shades of meaning: 1) immovable, still-as he seems from the train; 2) solid, sane-as he lives the simple life of an unknown farmer; 3) little affected by outer factors, such as the passing train.

The epithets "grim" and "gaunt" (the latter is repeated for a second time) stress the impression the man in the doorway produces on the poet. ·The poet's humorous interpretation is hinted at in line 14 ("It was not necessarily from want.").

The following four lines present a concrete picture of the man's life by means of metonymical descriptions:

15. He had the oaks for heating and for light. 16. He had a hen, he had a pig in sight. 17. He had a well, he had the rain to catch. 18. He had a ten by twenty garden patch.

Only relevant facts are given which undoubtedly suggest other details of the simple life of a common farmer. Metonymic description adds to the concreteness and vividness of the picture. All four lines are united by the same structure: parallel constructions and the anaphorical repetition of "He had. "

When the poet passes over to the Man's interests and amusements he assumes a humorous tone:

19. Nor did he lack for common entertainment. 20. That I assume was what our passing train meant.

Humpur is brought out firstly by an emphatic construc-tion ("Nor did ... ") and litotes ("Nor did he lack ... "). They make the line sound serious and solemn which is incongruous

86

with the frivolous thought expressed in these lines. Secondly. the word "entertainment" is too strong for the context and by no means suggests what we usually mean by "eptertainment" A humorous effect is also achieved by the peculiar rhymes of the last lines. The type of the rhyme used in the poem is consistently masculine (the stress falls on the last syllable). The rhyming scheme is that of a couplet ("high""eye". "earth"-"girth"). However the last four lines are quite different: "entertainment"-"train meant", "eating""greeting" .

On the one hand they unexpectedly become feminine rhymes, as the stress falls on the last syllable but one; on the other hand "entertainment" rhyming with "train meant" present a broken rhyme. a peculiar case of rhyme when one word rhymes with a group of words. This unusual kind of rhyme produces an unexpected sound effect and adds to the humorous tone of the lines.

On the surface the poem is very simple and concrete but upon more scrupulous analysis the poem begins to suggest ideas unlimited by space. The possibility of many ways of life often quite alien to the poet is presented here with friendly humour.

ROBERT FROST TREE AT M~ WINDOW

1. Tree at my window, window tree, My sash is lowered when night comes on; But let there never be curtain drawn Between you and me.

2. Vague dream-head lifted out of the ground, And thing next most diffuse to cloud, Not all your light tongues talking aloud Could be profound.

3. But tree, I have seen you taken and tossed, And if you have seen me when I slept, You have seen me when I was taken and swept And all but lost.

4. That day she put our heads together, Fate had her imagination about her, Your head so much concerned with outer, Mine with inner, weather.


1. What is the subject-matter of the poem? 2. What concrete tree is described in the first stanza?

What details add to the concreteness of the picture? 3. What EMs are used to personily the image of the tree?

What other phenomena are personified in the poem? 4. What general impression is achieved by presenting

every object and phenomenon the poet sees or feels as personified living beings?

5. What line (in the second stanza) emphasizes the poet's thought that nature is the only source of his inspiration?

6. What additional meaning is implied in the lines: "But let there never be curtain drawn between you and me"? And what stylistic effect is achieved by the attributive use of the word "window" in the first stanza?

7. Note all cases where the article is deliberately omitted by the poet (as in the line: "But let there never be curtain drawn between you and me")_ Account for the omission of the article in each case (and speak on the shade of meaning implied by it).

8. Comment on the last lines of the poem: "Your head so much concerned with outer, mine with inner, weather" What SDs occur in these lines?

9. What ideas are suggested by this poem? 10. Speak on the form of the poem: its quatrains, pecu

liarities of its free verse, rhymes. 11. Summing up your discussion of the poems by R.

Frost analysed here speak on the main stylistic peculiarities of Frost's poetry.

B. INDEPENDENT STYLISTIC ANALYSIS WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

SONNET 130

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun; Coral is far more red than her lips' red; If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun; If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head_ I have seen roses damask'd, red and white, But no such roses see I in her cheeks; And in some perfumes is there more delight Than in' the breath that from my mistress reeks. I love to hear her speak, yet well I know

S8

That music hath a far more pleasing sound; I grant I never saw a goddess go; My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:.

And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare As any she belied with false compare.

Assignments for stylistic Analysis

1. Read the sonnet and be ready to translate and paraphrase any part of it.

2. Speak on the structure of the sonnet. 3. Give your impression of the poet's mistress and com

ment on the way he describes her. 4. Discuss the idea of the epigrammatic lines of the son

net. 5. Speak on a peculiar use of the negative form in the son

net. What was the poet's purpose in using this form? 6. Find cases where similes are used and comment on

their peculiarity. 7. State what device is used in the line: "If hairs be

wires, black wires grow on her head". What effect is achieved through this device?

8. What do you think is the main device used by the poet in th is sonnet? .

9. Summing up the analysis of the sonnet speak on the poet's peculiar treatment of the object of his love and the SDs through which the desired effect is achieved.

ROBERT BURNS A REVOLUTIONARY LYRIC

Why should we idly waste our prime Repeating our oppressions?

Come, rouse to arms, it's now the time To punish past transgressions.

'Tis said that Kings can do no wrongTheir murderous deeds deny it;

And, since from us their power is sprung, We have a right to try it.

Now each true patriot's song shall be, "Welcome Death or Libertie."

Proud Priests and Bishops we'll translate, And canonize as Martyrs;

The guillotine on Peers shall wait, And Knights shall hang in garters;

Those despots long have trode us down, And Judges are their engines;

Such wretched minions of the Crown Demand the people's vengeance.

To-day 'tis theirs,-to-morrow, we Shall don the Cap of Libertie.

The golden age we'll then revive,Each man will be a brother;

In harmony we all shall Jive, And share the earth together.

In virtue trained, enlightened youth Will love each feIlow-creature;

And future years shaIl prove the truth That Man is good by nature.

Then let us toast, with three times three, The reign of Peace and Libertie.

Assignments fot. Stylistic Analysis

I. Speak on the message of the poem. 2. Analyse the SDs used in the first two lines. What idea

is emphasized through it? 3. Comment on the SDs used in the Jines:

Such wretched minions of the Crown Demand the people's vengeance. To-day 'tis theirs,-to-morrow. we Shall don the Cap of Libertie.

4. Pick out the epithets and classify them into trite and genuine.

5~ Comment on the repetition of the word "Libertie", occurring in different lines of the poem.

6. Summarizing the analysis of the poem comment on Burns' political views.

GEORGE GORDON BYRON BEPPO

Stanza XXI

But to my story.-'Twas some years ago, It may be thirty, forty, more or less,

40

•

The Carnival was at its height, and so Were all kinds of buffoonery and dress;

A certain lady went to see the show, Her real name I know not, nor can guess,

And so we'll call her Laura, if you please, Because it slips into my verse with ease.

Stanza XXII

She was not old, nor young, nor at the years Which certain people call "a certain age",

Wh ich yet a most uncertain age appears, Because I never heard, nor could engage

A person yet by prayers, or bribes, or tears, To name, define by speech, or write on page,

The period meant precisely by that word,Which surely is exceedingly absurd.


t. Speak on the peculiar way the poct handles the sub· ject.

2. Pick out the elements of the oral type of speech and classify them into lexical, sy"ritactical and phonetic EMs.

3. Comment on the last two lines of stanza XXI (" ... And so we'll call her Laura, if you please, because it slips into my verse with ease"). Compare these lines with the lines from "Eugene Onegin":

4HTarenb )I{.u.eT Y)l{ pHcf>Mbl p03bl.

Ha, BOT B03bMH ee CKOpe"!

Speak on the "ease" with which both poets handle the verse and the subject-matter.

4. Speak on the type of stanza "Beppo" is written in (Ottava Rima).

5. Discuss Byron's definition of the age of the heroine (Laura) and express your opinion of" 'a certain age', which yet a most uncertain age appears". Speak on the poet's humorous approach to th~ subject.

a) Comment on the stylistic function of periphrasis ("She was not old, nor young, nor at the years which certain people call 'a certain age"').

b) Note the peculiar use of antonyms ("old"-"young",

41

"certain"-"uncertain") and dwell on the contextual meaning of these words.

c) Speak on the effect achieved by the use of enumeration in Stanza XXII ("Because I never heard or could engage a person yet by prayers, or bribes, or jears, to name, define by speech, or write on page, the period meant precisely by that word").

6. Summing up your impressions of the stanzas speak on the character introduced by Byron (Laura) and give your own evaluation of the means and stylistic devices employed by the poet to achieve the desired effect.

7. Discuss Byron's conclusion of Stanza XXII "which surely is exceedingly absurd", and the poet's attitude towards conventions as revealed in these lines.

GEORGE GORDON BYRON DON JUAN

Canto I Stanza VIII

In Seville was he born, a 'pleasant city, Famous for oranges and women-he

Who has not seen it will be much to pity, So says the proverb-and I quite agree;

Of all the Spanish towns, is none more pretty, Cadiz, perhaps-but that you soon may see:

Don Juan's parents lived beside the river, A noble st.ream, and call'd the Guadalquivir.

Stanza IX

His father's name was Jose-Don, of course, A true Hidalgo, free from every stain Of Moor or Hebrew blood, he traced his source Through the most Gothic gentlemen of Spain; A better cavalier ne 'er mounted horse, Or, being mounted, e'er got down again, Than J6se, who begot our hero, who Begot-but that's to come-Well, to renew.

42


I. H()w does Byron describe Don Juan's father? 2. What is the general tone of the stanza?

3. Pick out the cases of periphrasis that occur in the stanza and speak of the function of this SO in each case.

4. Comment on Byron's introduction of Don Ju.an's father: "His father's name was Jose - Don, of course".

5. Find cases of the SO of irony and comment on them. 6. Speak on the function of repetition in the lines: "Than

Jose, who begot our hero, who begot..." 7. Summing up your analysis comment on Byron's at

titude to the aristocracy.

PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY THE CLOUD

I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, From the seas and the streams;

I bear light shade for the leaves when laid In their noon-day dreams.

From my w ngs are shaken the dews that waken The sweet buds everyone,

When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun.

I wield the flail of the lashing hail. And whiten the green plains under,

And then again I dissolve it .in rain, And laugh as I pass in thunder.


1. Speak on the subject-matter of the stanza. 2. Analyse the rhythmical arrangement of the poem (a

regular combination of iambic and anapestic meters, an alternation of long and short lines) and its rhyming scheme.

3. Point out cases of alliteration. 4. Comment on the lines: "When rocked to rest on their

mother's breast, as she dances about the sun", and speak on the SOs used here.

5. Pick out metaphors, analyse their structure and state their stylistic function.

6. Speak on the syntactical SOs of para1\elism and polysyndeton.

7. Summing up the stylistic analysis characterize the EMs and SOs used to present the cloud as an ever changing Jiving being and speak on the poet's attitude to nature.

4S

WILLIAM WORDSWORTH THE DAFFODILS

I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills,

When all at once I saw a crowd; A host, of golden daffodils,

Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the Milky Way,

They stretched in never-ending line Along the margin of a bay:

Ten thousand saw I at a glance Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:

A poet could not but be gay In such a jocund cOqIpany!

I gazed-and gazed-but lIttle thought What wealth the show to me had brought: For oft, when on my couch I lie

In vacant or in pensive mood, They flash upon that inward eye

Which is the bliss of solitude; And then my heart with pleasure fills, And dances with the daffodils.


t. Analyse the rhythmical arrangement and rhymes of the poem.

2. Comment on the contextual meanings of the metaphor "dance" (and "dancing") in the poem and its stylistic function.

3. Speak on the epithets and metaphors used to describe flowers in the poem.

4. Speak on the SDs employed to characterize the state of mind of the poet.

5. SU111ming up the analysis say what SDs are used to describe·nature and what is the poet's attitude to it.

44

ALFRED TENNYSON BREAK. BREAK, BREAK

Break, break, break, On th y cold grey stones, 0 Sea!

And I would that my tongue could utter The thoughts that arise in me.

o well for the fisherman's boy, That he shouts with his sister at play!

o well for the sailor lad, That he sings in his boat on the bay!

And the stately ships go on To their haven under the hill;

But 0 for the touch of a vanish'd hand, And the sound of a voice that is still!

Break, break, break, At the foot of thy crags, 0 Sea!

But the tender grace of a day that is dead Will never come back to me.


1. Speak on the subject-matter of the poem. 2. Speak on the rhythmical arrangement of the poem. 3. Pick out the EMs and SDs employed by the poet to

achieve a highly emotional colouring and a melancholy tone. 4. Speak on the stylistic function of various kinds of

repetition in the poem. 5. Commen t on the lines:

But 0 for the touch of a vanish'd hand, And the sound of a voice that is still.

Say what EMs and SDs are used here to describe a drowned sailor.

ALFRED TENNYSON SONG

Sweet and low, sweet and low. Wind of the western sea, Low. low. breathe and blow.

45

Wind of the western sea Over the rolling waters go, Come from the dying moon and blow, Blow him again to me; While my little one, while my pretty one sleeps.

Sleep and rest, sleep and rest, Father will come to thee soon; R.est, rest, on mother's breast, Father will come to thee soon; Father will come to his babe in the nest, Silver sails all out of the west, Under the silver moon; Sleep my little one, sleep, my pretty one, sleep.


I. Speak on the rhythmical arrangement and rhymes of the poem.

2. Pick out cases of alliteration and speak on its euphonic effect.

3. Analyse the epithets ,and comment on their role in the poem.

4. Speak on various kinds of repetition. 5. Summing up the analysis speak on the EMs and SDs

employed by the poet wh ich make the poem a gentle lullaby.

THOMAS HOOD THE BRIDGE OF SIGHS

One more Unfortunate Weary of breath,

R.ashly importunate, Gone to her death I

Take her up tenderly, Lift her with care;

Fashion'd so slenderly, Young, and so fairl

Look at her garments Clinging like cerements, Whilst the wave constantly

Drips from her clothing; Take her up instantly,

Loving, not loathing.

46

Touch her not scornfully; Think of her mournfully,

Gently and humanly; Not of the stains of herAll that remains of her

Now is pure womanly.

Make no deep scru tin y Into her mutiny

Rash and undutiful: Past all dishonour, Death has left on her

Only the beautiful.

Still, for all slips of hers, One of Eve's family

Wipe those poor lips of hers Oozing so clammily.

Loop up her tresses Escaped from the comb,

Her fair auburn tresses; Whilst wonderment guesses

Where was her home?

Who was her father? Who was her mother?

Had she a sister? Had she a brother?

Or was there a dearer one Still, and a nearer one

Yet, than all other?

Alasl for the rarity Of Christian charity

Under the sunl 01 it was pitifull Near a whole city full,

Home she had none. . . Sisterly, brotherly, Fatherly, motherly

Feelings had changed:

47

Love, by harsh evidence, Thrown from its eminence, Even God's providence

Seeming estranged.

Where the lamps quiver So far in the river,

With many a light From window and casement, From garret to basemen t, She stood, with amazement,

Houseless by nigh t. The bleak wind of March

Made her tremble and shiver; Bu t not the dark arch,

Or the black flowing river: Mad from life's history, Glad to death's mystery

Swift to be hurl'dAnywhere, anywhere

Out of the worldl


I. Speak on the subject-matter and the idea of the poem. 2. Analyse its rhythmical structure and rhymes. 3. Pick out all epithets, classify them and state their

sty Iistic function. 4. Analyse the following stanza pointing out the stylistic

function of interjection, inversion, periphrasis:

Alasl for the rarity Of Christian charity Under the sunl 01 it was pitifull Near a whole city full, Home she had none.

5. Speak on the stylistic function of elliptical and onemember sentences, inversion, parallel constructions in the poem.

6. COmment on the concluding stanza and analyse its SDs. 48

7. Summing up the stylistic analysis speak on the main EMs and SOs employed by the poet to describe the fate of the unfortunate girl.

HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

Should you ask me, whence these stories, Whence these legends and traditions, With the odors of the forest, With the dew and damp of meadows, With the curling smoke of wigwams, With the rushing of great rivers, With their frequent repetitions, And their wild reverberations, As of thunder in the mountains? I should answer, I should tell you, "From the forests and the prairies, From the great lakes of the Northland, From the land of the Ojibways, From the land of the Dacotahs, From the mountains, moors and fen-lands, Where the heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah, Feeds among the reeds and rushes, I repeat them as I heard them From the lips of Nawadaha, The musician, the sweet singer." Should you ask where Nawadaha Found these songs, so wild and wayward, Found these legends and traditions, I should answer, I should tell you, "In the birds' -nests of the forest, In the lodges of the beaver, In the hoof-prints of the bison, In the eyrie of the eaglel"


I. Speak on the rhythmical arrangement of the poem. 2. Pick out the EMs used to provide local colour as a

background to the description. 3. Speak on the struCture of the stanza (a question and

an answer) and say what impression it produces. 4. Pick out cases of repetition and parallelism and speak

on their stylistic function. 4-2896 49

EDGAR ALLAN POE THE RAVEN

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,

Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten loreWhile I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a

tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. "'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber

door-Only this, and nothing more."

Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the

floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow;-vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow-sorrow for the lost Le

noreFor the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore

Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain Thrilled me-filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating, "'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;-

This it is and nothing more."

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer. "Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore> But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping' And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber

door That I scarce was sure I heard you"-here I opened wide

thE" dcyx:-Darkness there and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,

Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before,

But the siIence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token, And the' only word there spoken was the wh ispered word,

"Lenore?'·

50

This I whispered, and an echo murmured bac~ the word. "Lenore!"

Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning. all my soul within me burning.

Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than befort:. "Surely," said I. "surely that is something at my window

lattice; Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery exploreLet my heart be stiIl a moment, and this mystery explore;

'Tis the wind, and nothing morel"

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter.

In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore; Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or

stayed he; But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber

doorPerched upon a bust of PalIas just above my chamber door-

Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, By the grave and stem deconnn of the countenance it wore, "Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure

no craven, Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly

shoreTelI me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian

shore! t. Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore".

And the Raven, never flitting, still is ~:tting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of PalIas just above my chamber door~ And his eyes have alI the seeming or a demon's that is

dreaming, And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his sh~tdow en

• the floor; And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the

floor; ShalI be lifted-nevermore I

4· 51

In this poem the poet mourns the loss of his beloved wile, thus the poem Is permeated with sorrow and In places verging on despair.


J. Speak on the title of the pOem and comment on its symbolic meaning.

2. Analyse the structure of the poem; note the role of the refrain, its stylistic peculiarities and speak on the effect ach ieved by it.

3. Define the rhythm of the poem, state its role in bringing out both the atmosphere and the idea of the poem.

4. Discuss the SD of repetition: a) Pick out the instances of sound repetition: note the

recurrence of the sound [J:] in the poem, pick out other cases of the artistic use of vowels in the poem; analyse the instances of alliteration, note various structural forms of alliteration. Pick out cases of onomatopoeia and note by what means the effect of sound imitation is achieved. Analyse the different kinds of rhymes.

b) Pick out the instances of word repetition and analyse its various structural forms.

c) Pick out the instances of syntactic repetition. d) Note the apt use of the SD of repetition and intricate

combinations of repetition on different levels. 5. Comment on the vocabulary of tile poem pointing out

the highly literary and poetic words and speak on their function.

6. Speak on the stylistic role of epithets, their structure and types: pick out pairs of epithets-synonyms and epithetsantonyms.

7. Summing up the analysis of the poem speak on the most prominent SO which to your mind brings out the message of the poem.

THOMAS STEARNS ELIOT

THE FAMILY REUNION

Chorus

In an old house there is always listening. and more is heard th an is spoken.

And what is spoken remains in the room, waiting for the future to hear it.

52

And whatever happens began in the past, and presses hard on the future.

The agony in the curtained bedroom, whether of qirth or of dying,

Gathers in to itself all the voices of the past, and projects them into the future.

The treble voices on the lawn The mowing of hay in summer The dogs and the old pony The stumble and the wail of little pain The chopping of wood in autumn And the singing in the kitchen And the steps at night in the corridor The moment of sudden loathing And the season of stifled sorrow The whisper, the transparent deception The keeping up of appearances The making the best of a bad job All twined and tangled together, all are recorded. There is no avoiding these things And we know nothing of exorcism And whether in Argos or England There are certain inflexible laws Unalterable, in the nature of music. There is nothing at all to be done about it, There is nothing to do about anything, And now it is nearly time for the news We must listen to the weather report And the international catastrophes.


t. Speak on the peculiarities of the rhythm. 2. Comment on the following lines: "There is nath ing

at all to be done about it, there is nothing to do about anything". Discuss the SD used here.

3. Speak on the furrction of parallel constructions and the effect ach ieved by the use of th is device.

4. Comment on the metaphoric character of the lines: "The agony in the curtained bedroom, whether of birth or

olf dying, gathers into itself all the voices of the past, and projects them into the future"

5. Discuss the idea and the impressionistic character of the poem and in so doing dwell on the role of the syntactical SOs used by I:liot to bring out hb idea (~uspense, climax, polysyndeton cumulation).

JOE WALLACE IN THEIR SINGING. SHOUTING THOU<iANDS

In thICir singing, shouting thousands, Curb to curb they'll march along, Street to street the chorus roaring Of unfettered freedom's song.

In a blaze of scarlet banners. In a burst of joy set free. New Niagaras of power Plunging on to destiny.

Here old men, in triumpli tramping, Misty-eyed for comrades gone, There the pioneers advancing, Unscarred ch i1dren of the dawn.

Ah, to be there, ah, to see therel -Bu t there's better work to do; We can help the day draw nearer, We can make the dream come true.


1. Speak on the subject-matter a'1d the idea of the poem. 2. Comment on the title of the poem in connection with

its contents. 3. Speak on the metrical pattern of the poem and its

rhymes: note rhythmic modifiers and alliteration. 4. Pick out all cases of repetition (lexical and syntactical)

and state their stylistic fundion. 5. Analyse the metaphors and dwell on their stylistic

effect. 6. P1ck out the epithets, speak on their types and func

tion.

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7. Summing up the analysis say how the SOs employed in the poem help to bring out its message.

ROBERT FROST WIND AND WINDOW FLOWER

Lovers, forget your love. And list to the love of these.

She a window flower, And he a winter breeze.

When the frosty window veil Was me lted down a t noon,

And the caged yellow bird Hung over her in tune.

He marked her through the pane He could not help but mark,

And only passed her by, To come again at dark.

He was a winter wind, Concerned with ice and snow,

Dead weeds and unmated birds, And little of love could know.

But he sighed upon the sill, He ga\'e the sash a shake

As witness all within Who lay that night awake.

Perchance he half prevailed To win her for the fl igh t

From the firelit looking-glass And warm stove-window ligh t.

But the flower leaned aside And though t of naugh t to say,

And morning found the breeze A hundred miles away.

Assignmen.ts for Stylistic Analysis

•• Speak on the love story suggested by the poem. 2. Comment on the metaphors used in the first stanza.

("A window flower"-"a winter breeze").

J5

3. Pick out the words that describe the surroundings of the ·window flower" and comment on them.

4. Explain the use of inversion in the 4th stanza ("And little of love could know").

5. Speak on the effect achieved by the use of parallel construction in the 1st stanza. ("She a window flower", and "He a winter breeze").

6'. Speak of the rh ythmical pattern of the poem and the character of rh yme used in it.

7. Summing up the analysis of the poem speak on the dominant SD used in it and the effect achieved.

PA RT II

PROSE A. PATTERN STYLISTIC ANALYSIS

CHA RLES DICKENS

LITTLE DORRIT

Chapter II

MRS. GENERAL

... Mrs. General was the daughter of a clerical dignitary in a cathedral town, where she had led the fashion until she was as near forty-five as a single lady can be. A stiff commissariat officer of sixty, famous as a martinet, had then become enamoured of the gravity with which she drove the proprieties four-in-hand through the cathedral town society, and had solicited to be takeneeside her on the box of the cool coach of ceremony to which that team was harnessed. H is proposal of marriage being accepted by the lady, the commissary took his seat behind the proprieties with great decorum, and Mrs. General drove until the commissary died. In the course of their united journey they ran over several people who came in the way of the proprieties; but always in a high style, and with composure.

The commissary having been buried with all the decorations suitable to the service (the whole team of proprieties were harnessed to his hearse, and they all had feathers and black velvet housings, with his coat of arms in the corner), Mrs. General began to inquire what quantity of dust and ashes was deposited at the bankers' It then transpired that the commissary had so far stolen a march on Mrs. General as to have bought himself an annuity some years before his marriage, and to have reserved that circumstance, in mentioning, at the period of his proposal, that his income was derived from the interest of h is money. Mrs. General consequently found her means so much diminished that,

57

but for the perfect regulation of her mind, she might have felt disposed to question the accuracy of that portion of the late service which had declared that the commissary could take nothing away with him.

In this state of affairs it occurred to Mrs. General that she might "fonn the mind", and l!ke the manners of some young lady of distinction. Or, that she might harness the proprieties to the carriage of some rich young heiress or widow, and become at once the driver and guard of such veh icle through the social mazes ...

In person, Mrs. General, including her skirts, which had much to do with it, was of a dignified and imposing appearance; ample, rustling, gravely voluminous; always upright behind the proprieties. She might have been takenhad been taken-to the top of the Alps and the bottom of Herculaneum, without disarranging a fold in her dress, or displacing a pin If her countenance and hair had rather a floury appearance, as though from living in some transcendently genteel mill. it was rather 1ecause she was a chalky creation altogether, than because she mended her complexion with violet powder, or had turned grey. If her eyes had no expression, it was probably because they had nothing to express. If she had few wrinkles, it was because her mind had never traced its name or any other inscription on her face. A cool, waxy, blown-out woman, who had never lighted well.

Mrs. General had no opinions. Her way of forming a mind was to prevent it from forming opinions. She had a little circular set of mental grooves or rails on which she started little trains of other people's opinions, which never overtook one another, and never got anywhere. Even her propriety could not dispute that there was impropriety in the world; but Mrs. General's way of getting rid of it was to put it out of sight, and make believe that there was no such thing. This was another of her ways of forming a mind-to cram all articles of difficulty into cupboards, lock them up, and say they had no existence. It was the easiest way, and beyond all comparison, the properest.

Mrs. General was not to be told of anyth ing shocking. Accidents, miseries, and offences, were never to be mentioned before her. Passion was to go to sleep in the presence of Mrs. General, and blood was to change to milk and water. The little that was left in the world, when all these deductions were made, it was Mrs. General's province to varnish. In that formation process of hers she dipped the smallest

58

of [Hushes into the largest of pots, and varnished the surface of every object that came under consideration. The more cracked it was, the more Mrs. General varnished it.

There was varnish in Mrs. General's voice, varnish in Mrs. General's touch, an atmosphere of varnish round Mrs. General's figure. Mrs. General's dreams ought to have been varnished-if she had any-lying asleep in the arms of the good st. Bernard, \vith the feathery snow falling on his housetop.

Chapter V SOMETHING WRONG SOMEWHERE

. . "Amy, said Mr. Dorrit, "you have just now been the

subject of some conversation between myself and Mrs. General. We agree that you scarc~ly seem at home here. Ha-how is th is?"

A pause. "I think, father, 1 require a little time." "Papa is a prefera1le mode of address," observed Mrs.

General. "Father is rather vulgar, my dear. The word Papa, besides, gives a pretty form to the lips. Papa, potatoes, poultry, prunes, and prism, are all very good words for the lips: especially prunes and prism. You will find it serviceable, in the formation of a demeanour, if you sometimes say to yourself in company-on entering a room, for instance-Papa, potatoes, poultry, prunes and prism, prunes and prism."

"Pray, my child," said Mr. Dorrit, "attend to the-humprecepts of Mrs. General."

Poor Little Dorrit, with a rather forlorn glance at that t'minent varnisher, promised to try ...

. ,. Mr. Dorrit was even a little more fragmentary than u5ual; being excited on the subject, and anxious to make 11 Hnself particularly emphatic.

"I do beg," he repeated, "that this may be attended to, and that you will seriously take pains and try to conduct yourself in a manner both becoming your position as-haMiss Amy Dorrit, and satisfactory to myself and Mrs. General."

That lady shut her eyes again, on heing again referred to; then, slowly openir1g them and rising added these words:

"If Miss Amy Dorrit will direct her own attention to, and will accept of my poor assistance in, the formation of a surface, Mr. Dorrit will have no further cause of anxiety.

59

May I take this opportunity of remarking, as an instance in point, that it is scarcely delicate to look at vagrants with the attention which I have seen bestowed upon them by a very dear young friend of mine? They should not be looked at. Nothing disagreeable should eVfr be looked at. Apart from such a habit standing in the way of that graceful equanimity of surface which is so expressive of good breeding, it hardly seems compatiJle with refinement of mind. A truly refined mind will seem to be ignorant of the existence of anything that is not perfectly proper, placid, and pleasant." Having delivered this exalted sentiment, Mrs. General made a sweeping obedience, and retired with an expression of mouth indicative of Prunes and Prism.

Stylistic Analysis

The passage is an extract from Dickens' novel "Little Dorrit". Dickens describes a certain Mrs. General, a snobbish and pretentious lady "whose task was to form the minds of the young ladies of distinction". The character of Mrs. General is a brilliant example of Dickens' biting irony.

The ironical treatment of the subject is seen from the very first lines. Mrs. General is presented as a driver "of the carriage of proprieties". The metaphor is sustained through the whole passage, so the reader inevitably associates Mrs. General with "the cool coach of ceremony" with a pompous and pretentious behaviour that was calculated to impress the people, and thus win Mrs. General a high reputation in bourgeois society. Mrs. General and her husband acted as paragons of virtue and condemned any breach of conduct with pitiless cruelty. Their behaviour is revealed through the metaphor which is prolonged involving relevant details "of their united journey". "In the course of their united journey" Mrs. General and her husband "ran over seyeral people who came in the way of the proprieties", in other words they treated people ruthlessly and ruined many a reputation. It was done, however, "in a high style, and with composure".

The first paragraph introduces Mrs. General as a lady who had "led the fashion" or metaphorically speaking "drove the carriage of proprieties" The central image of the metaphor, that of a driver of "the coach of ceremony" is sustained through a series of contributary images as to "four-in-hand" (she drove the proprieties four in hand), "the box of the cool coach of ceremony to which that team was harnessed", "in

60

the course of their united journey", "they ran over several people", etc.

In the second paragraph one should note a peculiar use of the word "hearse", in its direct meaning it is a part of reality (Mr. General's funeral), on the other hand, in the macrocontext it is a part of the sustained metaphor of the first paragraph ("the coach of ceremony").

In the third paragraph the same image is further developed and enhanced through the use of the synonyms ("coach", "carriage", "veh icle"); note the uni ty of the imagery used by Dickens, All the contextual synonyms develop the same idea. that of Mrs. General's drive "through the social mazes"

The choice of epithets employed by Dickens to describe this "accomplished lady" reveals his ironic attitude to her. The main idea expressed through the epithets is to show Mrs. General as an absolutely cold and indifferent woman devoid of any human feeling or emotion "a cool, waxy, blown-out woman" The metaphoric epithet "blown-out" is humorously commented on: "who had never lighted well".

"She was a chalky creation altogether", "dignified", "imposing", "gravely voluminous", but "upright", utterly devoid of any expression. "If her eyes had no expression, it was probably because they had nothing to express". The cold and lifeless qualities of "Mrs. General are enhanced through the use of a hyperbole "She might have been takenhad been taken-to the top of the Alps and the bottom of Herculaneum, without disarranging a fold in her dress, or displacing a pin".

Mrs. General's inner qualities are in full harmony with her appearance: "Mrs. General had no opinions. She had a little circular set of mental grooves or rails on which she started little trains of other people's opinions" The description of Mrs. General's method of "forming a mind" is done through a prolonged metaphor whose central image is a "circular set" of "grooves" or "rails". It is but natural that no knowledge could be acquired under such a teacher as the "rails" led nowhere.

The other no less relevant feature of Mrs. General's method was to conceal "the impropriety" of the world. Mrs. General's task was to get rid of it, "to put it out of sight", "and make believe that there was no such thing". A series of synonymical repetitions is arranged climatically ending in a prolonged metaphor which is the top of the climax: "to

61

cram all articles of difficulty into cupboards, lock them up, and say they had no existence".

One should note the syntactical arrangement of this paragraph: the use of epiphoric repetition in the first part of the paragraph (the word "opinion': is repeated three times which attracts the reader's attention and brings home to him the utter stupidity and mental mediocrity of Mrs. General and the fashionable set of society in which she rules).

The next paragraph begins with the topical sentence: "Mrs. General was not to be told of anything shocking". The author dwells on Mrs. General's indifferent, cold and snobbish approach to life, - all human feelings and sufferings were alien to her - this attitude towards life is revealed through the syntactical SD of parallelism which includes two periphrastic constructions: the first based on metaphor and the second on metonymy. "Passion was to go to sleep in the presence of Mrs. General and blood was to change to milk and water" Concluding the ironical description of Mrs. General Dickens dwells on her ability "to varnish" "the little that was left in the world, when all these deductions were made". The metaphor "varnish" exposes Mrs. General as a fdlse and hypocritical creature who deliberately tried to distort reality through the use of sugary lies. so that the dark and squalid aspects of life seemed quite respectable and even pleasant in her interpretation. " ... she varnished the surface of every object that came under consideration. The more cracked it was, the more Mrs. General varnished it."

The ironical effect is achieved by the use of the prolongation of the metaphor "varnish" and by the use of the repetition of the word "varnish" throughout the whole paragraph.

In the last passage Mrs. General's method can be seen in practice. Dickens ridicules its foolish pretentiousness and snobbery.

Note the humorous effect created by the nouns "selected on euphonic principle" and forcibly joined together; the SD of alliteration adds to the humorous effect produced by the enumeration of these nouns: "papa, potatoes, poultry, prunes and prism".

Summing up the analysis of the character of Mrs. General which is the subject-matter of the chapter one should say that Dickens brilliantly uses imagery, mostly metaphors pr610nged and developed throughout the passage, which help to reveal Mrs. General's nature. All EMs and SDs em-

6.2

ployed by Dickens are keyed to the purpose of exposing Mrs_ General; her snobbery, coldness, cruelty and hypocrisy are the objects of the author's ridicule and biting irony.

The syntactical SDs add much to the impact created by the lexical EMs and SDs. One should note the unity of thought and the coherence in the development of each paragraph of the passage, the apt use of parallel constructions, climax and repetition.

CHARLES DICKENS

THE POSTHU1\-\OUS PAPERS OF THE PICKWICK CLUB

Chapter 11 This chnpter describes one of the humorous adventures of Mr.

PLkwlck

That punctual servant of all work, the sun, had just risen, and began to strike a ligh t on the morning of the th irteenth of May, one thousand eigh t hundred and twenty-seven, when Mr. Samuel Pickwick burst like another sun from his slumbers; threw c;pen his chamber window, and looked out upon the world btneath. Goswell Street was at his feet, Goswell Street was on his right hand-as far as the eye could reach, Goswell Street extended on his left; and the opposite side of Goswell Street was ov~r the way. "Such," thought Mr. Pickwick, "are the narrow views of those philosoohers who, content with examining the things that lie before thtm, look not to the truths which are hidden beyond. As well might I be content to gaze on Goswell Street for ever, without one effort to penetrate to the hidden countries which un every side surround it." And having given vent to this beautiful reflection, Mr. Pickwick proceeded to put himself into his clothes; and his clothes into his portmanteau. Great men are seldom over scrupulous in the arrangement of their attire; the operation of shaving, dressing, and coffeeimbibing was soon performed: and, in another hour, Mr. Pickwick, with his portmanteau in his hand, his telescope in his greatcoat pocket, and h is note-book in his waistcoat, ready for the reception of any discoveries worthy of being noted down, had arrived at the coach stand in St. Martin's Ie Grand.

"Cab I " said Mr. Pickwick. "Here you are, sir," shouted a strange specimen of the

human race, in a sackcloth coat, and apron of the same, who with a brass label and number round his neck, looked as if he were catalogued in some collection of rarities. This was

58

the waterman. "Here you are, sir. Now, then, fust cabl" And the first cab having been fetched from the public-house, where he had been smoking his first pipe, Mr. Pickwick and his portmanteau were thrown into the vehicle.

"Golden Cross," said Mr. Pickwick. "Only a bob's vorth, Tommy," cried the driver, sulkily,

for the information of his friend the waterman, as the cab drove off.

"How old is that horse, my friend?" inquired Mr. Pickwick, rubbing his nose with the shilling he had reserved for the fare.

"Forty-two," replied the driver, eyeing him askant. "Whatl" ejaculated Mr. Pickwick, laying his hand upon

his note-book. The driver reiterated his former statement. Mr. Pickwick looked very hard at the man's face, but his features were immovable, so he noted down the fact forthwith.

"And how long do you keep him out at a time?" inquired Mr. Pickwick, searching for further information.

"Two or three veeks," replied the man. "Weeks!" said Mr. Pickwick in astonishment and out

came the note-book again. "He lives at Pentonwill when he's at home," observed

the driver, coolly. "but we seldom takes him home, on account of his veakness."

"On account of his weaknessl" reiterated the perplexed Mr. Pickwick.

"He always falls down, when he's took out 0' the cab," continued the driver, "but when Ie's in it, we bears him up werry tight, and takes him in werry short, so as he can't werry well fall down, and we've got a pair 0' precious large wheels on: so ven he does move, they run after him, and he must go on-he can't help it."

Mr. Pickwick entered every word of this statement in his note-book, with the view of communicating it to the club, as a singular instance of the tenacity of life in horses, under trying circumstances. The entry was scarcely completed when they reached the Golden Cross. Down jumped the driver, and out got Mr. Pickwick. Mr. Tupman, Mr. Snodgrass, and Mr. Winkle, who had been anxiously waiting the arrival of their illustrious leader, crowded to welcome him.

"Here's your fare," said Mr. Pickwick, holding out the shilling io the driver.

What was the learned man's astonishment, when that

64

unaccountable person flung the money on the pavement, and requested in figurative terms to be allowed the pleasure of figh ting him (Mr. Pickwick) for the amount!

"You are mad," ~ald Mr. Snodgra5.'l. "Or drunk," said Mr. Winkle. "Or both," said Mr. Tupman. '"Come on," said the cab-driver, sparring away like clock·

work. "Come on-all four on you." "Here's a lark!" shouted half-a-dozen hackney coachmen.

"Go to vork, Sam,"-and they crowded with great glee round the party.

"What's the row, Sam?" inquired one gentleman in black calico sleeves.

"Rowl" replied the cabman. "What did he want my number for?"

"I didn't want your number," said the astonished Mr. Pickwick.

"What did you take it for, then?" inquired the cabman. "I didn't take it," said Mr. Pickwick, indignantly. "Would any body believe," continued the cabdriver,

appealing to the crowd-"Would any body believe as an informer 'ud go about in a man's cab, not only takin' down his number, but ev'ry word he says into the bargain?" {a light flashed upon Mr. Pickwick-it was the note-book).

"Did he though?" inquired another cabman. "Yes, did he," replied the first- "and then arter aggera

watin' me to assault him, gets three withnesses here to prove it. But 1 'II give it him, if I've six months for it. Come on," and the cabman dashed his hat upon the ground, with a reckless disregard of his own private property, and knocked Mr. Pickwick's spectacles off, and followed up the attack with a blow on Mr. Pickwick's nose, and another on Mr. Pickwick's chest, and a third in Mr. Snodgrass's eye, and a fourth, by way of variety, in Mr. Tupman's waistcoat, and then danced into the road, and back again to the pavement, and finally dashed the whole temporary supply of breath out of Mr. Winkle's body; and all in half-a-dozen seconds.

"Where's an officer?" said Mr. Snodgrass. "Put 'ern under the pump," suggested a hot-pieman. "You shall smart for this," gasped Mr. Pickwick. "Informers!" shouted the crowd. "Come on," cried the cabman, who has been sparring

without cessation the whole time. ~28116 65

The mob had hitherto been passive spectators of the scene, but as the intelligence of the Pickwickians being informers was spread among them, they began to canvass with considerable vivacity the propriety of enforcing the heated pastry-vandor's proposition: and there is no saying what acts of personal aggression they might have committed, had not the affray been unexpectedly terminated by the interposition of a new comer.

"What's the fun?" said a rather tall thin young man, in a green coat, emerging suddenly from the coach-yard.

"Informers!" shouted the crowd again. "We are not," roared Mr. Pickwick, in a tone which, to

any dispassionate listener, carried conviction with it. "Ain't you, though-ain't you?" said the young man,

appealing to Mr. Pickwick, and making his way through the crowd by the infallible process of elbowing the countenances of its component members.

That learned man in a few hurried words explained the real state of the case.

"Come along, then," said he of the green coat, lugging Mr. Pickwick after him by main force, and talking the whole way. "Here, No. 924, take your fare, and take yourself offrespectable gentleman-know him well-none of your nonsense-this way, sir,-where's your friends?-all a mistake, I see-never mind-accidents will happen-best regulated families-never say die-down upon your luck-pull him up-put that in his pipe-like the flavour-damned rascals." And with a lengthened string of similar broken sentences, delivered with extraordinary volubility, the stranger led the way to the travellers' waiting-room, whither he was closely followed by Mr. Pickwick and his disciples.


1. Read the passage and speak on the way the main character is presented here.

2. Take the first paragraph for rigorous stylistic analysis: 1) note the SO used to introduce Mr. Pickwick in the opening sentence; 2) pick out instances of repetition, state the kind of repetition and its stylistic effect; 3) explain the peculiarity of the use of the verb "to put" in the phrase "to put himself into, his clothes; and his clothes into his portmanteau", say what stylistic effect is achieved by this SO. Note a similar SO in the next paragraph and comment on it.

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3. Pick out cases of logical and figurative periphrasis used to characterize Mr. Pickwick and state their stylistic function.

4. What SD is used in the sentence "Down jumped the driver, and out got Mr. Pickwick" and what shade of meaning does it emphasize. Pick out other similar SDs.

5. Comment on the phrase " ... requested in figurative terms to be allowed the pleasure of fighting him (Mr. Pickwick) for the amount!" Identify the SO. What is its stylistic function?

6. Study the description of the cabman's attack on Mr. Pickwick and his friends and identify the main SDs used to emphasize the quickness and suddenness of the cabman's movements.

7. Pick out the peculiarities of the cabman's speech and comment on their function.

8. Summing up the analysis: 1) pick out all cases of periphrasis occurring in the passage, classify them and say what makes some of them so humorous; 2) point out the main SDs used to achieve a humorous effect.

JOHN GALSWORTH Y TO LET

Part 2, Chapter 1 MOTHER AND SON

The chapter refers to the time when Irene's son Jon falls in love with Soames' daughter Fleur.

Jon's parents trying to separate the young people propose a travel to Spain.

To say that Jon Forsyte accompanied his mother to Spain unwillingly would scarcely have been adequate. He went as a well-natured dog goes for a walk with its mistress, leaving a choice mutton-bone on the lawn. He went looking back at it. Forsytes deprived of their mutton-bones are wont to sulk. But Jon had little sulkiness in his composition. He adored his mother, and it was his first travel. Spain had become Italy by his simply saying: "I'd rather go to Spain, Mum; you've been to Italy so many times; I'd like it new to both of us." •

Thi fellow was subtle besides being naive. He never forgot that he was going to shorten the proposed two months into six weeks, and must therefore show no sign of wishing p 67

to do so. For one with so enticing a mutton-bone and so fixed an idea, he made a good enough travelling companion, indifferent to where or when he arrived, superior to food, and thoroughly appreciative of a country strange to the most travelled Englishman. Fleur's wisdom in refusing to write to him was profound, for he reached" each new place entirely without hope or fever, and could concentrate immediate attention on the donkeys and tumbling bells, the priests, patios, beggars, children, crowing cocks, sombreros, cactushedges, old high white villages, goats, olive-trees, greening plains, singing birds in tiny cages, watersellers, sunsets, melons, mules, great churches, pictures, and swinnning greybrown mounlains of a fascinating land.

It was already hot, and they enjoyed an absence of their compatriots. Jon, who, so far as he knew, had no blood in him which was not English, was often innately unhappy in the presence of his own countrymen. He felt they had no nonsense about them, and took a more practical view of things than himself. He confided to his mother that he must be an unsociable beast-it was jolly to be away from everybody who could talk about the things people did talk about. To which Irene had replied sim'ply:

"Yes, Jon, I know."

"Is that your favourite Goya, Jon?" He checked, too late, a movement such as he might have

made at school to conceal some surreptitious document, and answered: "Yes."

"I t certainly is most charming; but I think I prefer the 'Quitasol' Your father would go crazy about Goya; I don 'I believe he saw them when he was in Spain in '92."

In '92--nine years before he had been born! What had been the previous existences of his father and his mother? If they had a right to share in his future, surely he had a right to share in their pasts. He looked up at her. Hut something in her face-a look of life hard-lived, the mysterious impress of emot ions, experience, and suffering-seemed with its incalculab!e depth, its purchased sanctity, to make curiosity impertinent. His mother must have had a wonderfully interesting life: she was so beautiful, and so---so-but he could not frame what he felt about her. He got up, and stood gazing down at the town, at the plain all green with crops, and the ring of mountains glamorous in sinking stlnlight. Her life was like the past of this old Moorish city, full,

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deep, remote-his own life as yet such a baby of a thing, hopelessly ignorant and innocent. They said that in those mountains to the West, which rose sheer from the blue-green plain, as if out of a sea, Phoenicians had dwelt -a dark, strange, secret race, above the land. His mother's life was as unknown to him, as secret, as that Phoenician past was to the town down there, whose cocks crowed and whose children played and clamoured so gaily, day in, day out. He felt aggrieved that she should know all abou t him and he nothing about her except that she loved him and his father, and was beautiful. His callow ignorance-he had not even had the advantage of the War, like nearly everybody elsemade him small in his own eyes.

. . About noon that same day, on the tiled terrace of their

hotel, he felt a sudden dull pain in the back of h is head, a queer sensation in the eyes, and sickness. The sun had touched him too affectionately. The next three days were passed in semi-darkness, and a dulled, aching indifference to all except the feel of ice on his forehead and his mother's smile. She never moved from his room, never relaxed her noiseless vigilance, which seemed to Jon angelic. But there were moments when he was extremely sorry for himself, and wished terribly that Fleur could see bjm. Several times he took a poignant imaginary leave of her and of the earth, tears oosing out of his eyes. He even prepared the message he would send to her by his mother-who would regret to her dying day that she had ever sought to separate them-his poor mother! He was not slow, however, in perceiving that he had now h is excuse for going home.

Towards half past six each evening came a "gasgacha" of bells-a cascade of tumbling chimes, mounting from the city below and falling back chime on chime. After listening to them on the fourth day he said suddenly:

"I'd like to be back in England, Mum, the sun's too hot." "Very welI, darling. As soon as you're fit to travel." And

at once he felt better, and-meaner. They had been out five weeks when they turned towards

home. Jon's head was restored to its pristine clarity, but he was confined to a hat lined by his mother with many layers of orange and green silk, and he still walked from choice in the shade. As the long struggle of discretion between them drew to its close, he wondered more and more whether she could see his eagerness to get back to that which she had brought

69

him away from. Condemned by Spanish Providence to spend a day in Madrid between their trains, it was but natural to go again to the Prado. Jon was elaborately casual this time before his Goya girl. Now that he was going back to her, he could afford a lesser scrutiny. It was his mother who lingered before the picture, saying:

"The face and the figure of the girl are exquisite." Jon heard her uneasily. Did she understand? But he felt

once more that he was no match for her in self-control and SUbtlety. She could, in some supersensitive way, of which he had not the secret, feel the pulse of his thoughts; she knew by instinct what he hoped and feared and wished. It made him terribly uncomfortable and guilty, having, beyond most boys, a conscience. He wished she would be frank with him; he almost hoped for an open struggle. But none came, and steadily, silently, they travelled north. Thus did he first learn how much better than men women playa waiting game. In Paris they had again to pause for a day. Jon was grieved because it lasted two, owing to certain matters in connection with a dressmaker; as if his mother, who looked beautiful in anything, had any need of-dressesl The happiest moment of his travel was that when he stepped on to the Folkestone boat.

Standing by the bulwark rail, with her arm in his, she said:

"I'm afraid you haven't enjoyed it much, Jon. But you've been very sweet to me."

J on squeezed her arm. "Oh I yes, I've enjoyed it awfully-except for my head

lately. " And now that the end had come, he really had, feeling

a sort of glamour over the past weeks-a kind of painful pleasure, such as he had tried to screw into those lines about the voice in the night crying; a feeling such as he had known as a small boy listening avidly to Chopin, yet wanting to cry. And he wondered why it was that he couldn't say to her quite simply what she had said to him:

"You were very sweet to me." Odd-one never could be nice and natural like that! He substituted the words: "I expect we shall be sick."

They were, and reached London somewhat attenuated, having been away six weeks and two days, without a single allusion to the subject which had hardly ever ceased to occupy their minds.

70

Stylistic Analysis

This chapter is more or less complete in itself, with the unity of its subject-matter and idea. The chapter Is called "Mother and Son" and is aimed at revealing their feelings and relations at the period of time the novel describes.

The opening paragraph introduces the main subject of the chapter. The first thing to remember about the paragraph is that it is a unit concerned not with a group of topics but with one topic only. The so-called topic sentence of a paragraph is the sentence that contains the essence of what the paragraph is about and to what every other sentence bears some relation. The second thing to remember is that the paragraph is usually arranged in a logical pattern with each sentence leading directly into the next.

The first sentence of the paragraph we are analysing is its topic sentence: "To say that Jon Forsyte accompanied his mother to Spain unwillingly would scarcely have been adequate." It gives an insight into Jon's state of mind, who was not unwilling to go to Spain, still not positively willing. The idea is not expressed in a straightforward categorical manner. The SO of litotes makes the sentence sound non-categorical.

Note that this litotes is not trite as the second negative element "scarcely" is rather unusual, the usual word is the negative particle "not". The structural pattern of the litotes is common: the adjective (or adverb) with a negative prefix ("unwillingly") + the negative particle, but the word "scarcely" as the second negative component part is not common and it makes this litotes a genuine SO.

All other sentences of this paragraph explain or clarify the main idea. The 2nd and 3rd sentences present a prolonged simile. By drawing a concrete image of a dog the author makes his thought clear and more vivid: "He went as a wellnatured dog goes for a walk with its mistress, leaving a choice mutton-bone on the lawn. He went looking back at it".

The 4th sentence ("Forsytes deprived of their muttonbones are wont to sulk") relates the statement of Jon's mood to the larger and more generalized character of Forsyte as a type: and it sounds like an epigrammatic sentence.

Note that the word "mutton-bone" which was used in the 2nd sentence as an element of a simile, is used here as a metaphor. The contextual meaning is not clearly defined and may include a number of concepts: property, money,

71

members of their family-everything dear to Forsytes as mutton-bones are dear to dogs. This metaphor besides presenting the idea in a concrete way, suggests the writer's evaluation of Forsytes by his implied comparison to dogs.

Sentence 5 ("But Jon had little splkiness in his composition") develops the preceding idea. The two sentences (4 and 5) are closely linked by the so-called "root repetition": the use of the adjective "sulky" in sentence 4 and the corresponding noun "sulkiness" in sentence 5. The contrast of ideas supported by "root repetition" and the conjunction "but" does not form the SO of antithesis as the principal linguistic requirements for this SO are not obsen-ed (parallelism, the use of antonyms).

Sentence 6 ("He adored h is mother and it was h is first travel") presents the SO of cumulation, as the two parts of the sentence connected by the coordinating conjunction "and" are logically heterogeneous. The sentence presents in fact two reasons for Jon's going to Spain not unwillingly and it returns the reader's attention to the topic sentence.

The last sentence completes the paragraph, explaining why they went to Spain and not to Italy.

Note the use of the trite metonymy "Spain" and "Italy" (for "travel to Spain or Italy"") common in colloquial speech.

The second paragraph logically develops the description of Jon's nature. The topic sentence, "The fellow was subtle besides being naive", introduces the main idea of the paragraph.

The 3rd sentence: "For one with so enticing a muttonbone and so fixed an idea ... " completes the image of the "mutton-bone"" and refers the reader to the preceding paragraph where it was used in the simile and implied Fleur. The words "so enticing a mutton-bone"" are used here in the same contextual meaning (implying Fleur). So the contextual meaning is determined not by the narrow context of the given sentence but by a broader context including the preceding paragraph (a macrocontext). This metaphor gives a figurative concrete description of the girl and the boy. The character of images chosen by the author helps him to reveal his subtly ironical attitude to the young generation of Forsytes.

Note the complete parallel constructions in the first part of the 3rd sentence: "For one with so enticing a ITlutton-bone and so fixed an idea ... " intensified by the anaphoric repetition of "so'"; and another set of parallel constructions in the second part of the sentence (partial parallelism): "Indif-

72

ferent to where or when he arrived, superior to food, and thoroughly appreciative of a country ... ". Parallel constructions make the thought clearer, besides such an arrangement lends an unmistakable eloquence and rhythm to the utterance.

The 3rd sentence: "For one with so enticing a muttonbone and so fixed an idea, he made a good enough travelling companion ... " directs the reader's attention to a new topic which is further developed by presenting some reasons: "indifferent to where or when he arrived, superior to food, and thoroughly appreciative of a country ... ". See that the words "indifferent" and "superior" have become in this sentence contextual antonyms of the word "appreciative" Parallel constructions make the antonyms more conspicuous and the arrangement of the sentence as a whole is antithesis.

Note the peculiarity of SDs used to describe Jon: the litotes and simile in the first paragraph wh ich stress Jon's twofold impulse; the epithets "subtle", "naive" in the topic sentence of the second paragraph pointing out Jon's contrasting qualities and the antithesis now, all are aimed at revealing Jon's state of mind-his irresolution and twofold feelings.

Jon's indifference is made more palpable and concrete by means of an incoherent and disorderly enumeration of things and phenomena he sees 'In Spain: "and could concentrate immediate attention on the donkeys and tumbling bells, the priests, patios, beggars, children, crowing cocks, sombreros, cactus-hedges ... " and so on. This enumeration may be regarded as a kind of cumulation. Pay attention to the words "concentrate immediate attention" used with a slight ironical tinge.

Jon's appreciation of Spain is stressed by the highly emotive epithet "fascinating" ("swimming grey-brown mountains of a fascinating land"). A number of barbarisms ("patios", "sombreros") help to create local colouring and add to the concreteness of the description of Spain.

Note another barbarism: "Towards half past six each evening came a "gasgacha" of bells-a cascade of tumbling chimes .. ," contributing to the same effect. See that the Spanish word "gasgacha" is siJIgled out graphically and explained by the author through the prolonged metaphor "a cascade of tumbling chimes, mounting from the city below and falling back chime on chime".

The next paragraph adds some more details to the read-

75

er's knowledge of the character. The topic sentence .. It was already hot, and they enjoyed an absence of their compatriots" presents cumulative constructions: a linking thought is missing here and cumulation stresses a sudden transition from the statement that the weather in Spain was hot to an unexpected conclusion that they "enjoyed an absence of their compatriots", making the second thought more conspicuous. The rest of the paragraph may be regarded as a kind of missing link explaining why they enjoyed themselves. Jon was "innately unhappy in the presence of his own countrymen"; "It was jolly to be away from everybody who could talk about the things people did talk about".

Note the litotes (a trite one) in the second sentence: "Jon ... had no blood in him which was not English" which together with the phrase "so far as he knew" adds to the impression the reader has got of Jon's irresolute and mild nature.

In the 4th sentence we find represented speech: "He confided to his mother that he must be an unsociable beast-it was jolly to be away from everybody ... " The words "he confided to his mother" introduce it and show that the part wh ich follows is Jon's actual speech given in the form of represen ted uttered speech.

Mark the use of the graphic means of the dash, the colloquial expressions "an unsociable beast", "it was jolly" and the use of the Past Perfect Tense in the sentence following the represented speech: "To which Irene had replied" pointing out a transmission from one kind of speech (represented speech) to another (the author's narrative).

Represented speech is widely used by J. Galsworthy in this chapter. Paragraph 6 (p. 68) offers a good illustration of represented inner speech. It reveals wh at Jon th inks of his mother and how greatly he admires her. Represented inner speech is closely interwoven and interlaced with the author's narration: the first passage including three sentences is represented speech; then comes the author's narration ("He looked up at her ... " to the words " ... to make curiosity impertinent"). The beginning of thE:! next sentence ("His mother must have had a wonderfully interesting life; she was so beautiful, and so-so-") is represented speech; the end-the author's narration ("but he could not frame what he felt about her."). Represented speech combines features of direct and indirect speech. The morphological structure is that of indirect speech: the character is referred to in the th ird per-

i-l

son singular, the tense of the narration is preserved. (The Past Indefinite Tense.)

Still represented speech is clearly singled out in the author's narration by its syntactical peculiarities which make it close to direct speech: observe an elliptical sentence and exclamation in the first passage ("In '92-nine years before he had been bornl"); the form of the directly asked question ("What had been the previous existences of his father and his mother?"). All these peculiarities introducing the intonation and manner of the personage himself, make the effect of his immediate presence and participation. The colloquial contraction "'92" and the colloquial word "surely" contribute to this effect too.

In the second case ("His mother must have had a wonderfully interesting life; she was so beautiful, and so-so-") a sudden break in narration-the stylistic device of aposiopesis-marks off this utterance as represented speech. Note the epithet of colloquial character "wonderfully interesting"

The analysis of the vocabulary in this paragraph shows an obvious difference between words in the author's narration and those in represented speech: note sllch high Iyliterary words and word combinations as "mysterious impress", "incalculable depth", "its purchased s:mctity" in the author's narration and more common, even colloquial words in represen ted speech.

Represented speech may not stand out in the context clearly. The sentence "Her life was like the past of this old Moorish city ... " may be consi dered rep rese n ted speech though it has no characteristic syntactical peculiarities marking it off as such. The structure of the sentence is elaborate. Still the exclamatory sentence and the words which are more common than those of the surrounding utterance may convince the reader that Jon's thoughts are rrndered here through represented inner speech. The SD of antithesis based on balanced constructions, anaphorical repetition ("her life""his own life"), contextual antonyms (the isolated epithets "full, deep, remote"-"hopelessly ignorant and innocent") emphasize the striking difference between their lives J on so acutely feels. The first clause has a simile ("like the past of this old Moorish city .. .'!), the second, a metaphorical epithet ("such a baby of a thing")-these images call forth certain pictures stressing the contrast in the characters' experience and life.

The last sentence of the paragraph is a culminating point

75

in Jon's bitter self-evaluation: "His callow ignorance-he had not even had the advantage of the War, like nearly everybody else-made him small in his own eyes" The part between two dashes is represented speech. The peculiar use of the word "advan tage" marks it c:1ff as such: J on uses it in his thoughts in its direct meaning but the writer (who does not eliminate himself completely from the narration) uses it ironically.

Summing up the analysis of this chapter note the peculiarity of SOs used by Galsworthy to describe Irene and Jon. When applied to Jon SOs though different both in structure and nature are used to serve the same stylistic purpose: to stress Jon's two-fold and contradictory feelings. We have mentioned already: the litotes "To say that Jon Forsyte accompanied his mother to Spain unwillingly would scarcely have been adequate" and the simile making its meaning clearer "He went as a well-natured dog goes for a walk ... " of the 1st paragraph; the litotes "no blood in him which was not English"; the contrasting epithets in the sentence "The fellow was subtle besides being naive" and the antithesis "indifferent to where or when "he arrived ... appreciative of a country ... "

We may add to this list the SO of zeugma ("And at once he felt better, and-meaner") which emphasizes his pricks of conscience and his mixed feelings of joy and shame; and oxymoron ("And now that the end had come, he really had, feeling a sort of glamour over the past weeks-a kind of painful pleasure ... ") which serves the same purpose. Concrete matter-of-fact images the writer draws to characterize Jon ("He went as a well-natured dog goes for a walk with its mistress, leaving a choice mutton-bone on the lawn") show what sort of attitude he has towards his character. Compare this simile with the picturesque and elevated similes used to describe Irene: "Her life was like the past of this old Moorish city, full, deep, remote". And: "His mother's life was as unknown to him, as that Phoenician past...".

Among other SDs used to depict Irene most striking are the epithets: "the mysterious impress of emotions, experience, and suffering-seemed with its incalculable depth, its purchased sanctity ... ", "She could, in some supersensitive way feel the pulse of his thought", " ... her noiseless vigilance which seemed to Jon angelic".

SOs employed to characterize Irene all contribute to the elevation and remoteness of this image.

76

JOHN GALSWORTHV THE MAN OF PROPERTY

IRENE'S RETURN

The passage deals with Irene's return home after Bosinney's death.

On reaching home, and entering the little lighted hall with his latchkey, the first thing that caught his eye was his wife 's ~old-mounted umbrella lying on the rug chest. Flinging off his fur coat, he hurried to the drawing-room.

The curtains were drawn for the night, a bright fire of cedar logs burned in the grate, and by its ligh t he saw r rene sitting in her usual corner on the sofa. He shut the door softIy, and went towards her. She did 110t move, and did not seem to see him.

"So you've come back?" he said. "Why are you sitting here in the dark?"

Then he caught sight of her face, so white and motionless that it seemed as though the blood must have stopped flowing in her veins; and her eyes, that looked enormous, like the great, wide, startled brown eyes of an owl.

Huddled in her grey fur against the sofa cushions, she had a strange resemblance to a captive owl, bunched in its soft feathers against the wires of a cage. The supple erectness of her figure was gone, as though she had been broken by cruel exercise; as though there were no longer any reason for being beautiful, and supple, and erect.

"So you've corne back," he repeated. She never looked up, and never spoke, the firelight play

in~ over her motionless figure. Suddenly she tried to rise, but he prevented her; it was

then that he understood. She had come back like an animal wounded to death,

not knowing where to turn, not knowing what she was doing. The sight of her figure, huddled in the fur, was enough.

He knew then for certain that Bosinney had been her lover; knew that she had seen the report of his death-perhaps, like himself, had bought a paper at the draughty corner of a street, and read it.

She had come back then of her own accord, to the cage she had pined to be free of-and taking in all the tremendous significance of this: he longed to cry: "Take your hated body, that I love, out of my housel Take away that pitiful white face, so cruel and soft-before I crush it. Get out of my sight; never let me see you againl"

77

And, at those unspoken words, he seemed to see her rise and move away, like a woman in a terrible dream, from which she was fighting to awake-rise and go out into the dark and cold, without a thought of him, without so much as the knowledge of h is presence.

Then he cried, contradicting what he had not yet spoken, "No; stay there!" And turning away from her, he sat down in his accllstomed chair on the other side of the hearth.

They sat in silence. And Soames thought: "Why is all this? Why should I

suffer so? What have I done? It is not my fault!" Again he looked at her, huddled like a bird that is shot

and dyipg, whose poor breast you see panting as the air is taken from it, whose poor eyes look at you who have shot it, with a slow, soft, unseeing look, taking farewell of all that is good-of the sun, and the air, and its mate.

So they sat, by the firelight, in the silence, one on each side of the hearth.

And the fume of the burning cedar logs, that he loved so well, seemed to grip Soames by the throat till he could bear it no longer. And going- out into the hall he flung the door wide, to gulp down the cold air that came in; then without hat or overcoat went out into the Square.

Along the garden rails a half-starved cat came rubbing her way towards him, and Soames thought: "Suffering! when will it cease, my suffering?"

At a front door across the way was a man of his acquaintance named Rutter, scraping his boots, with an air of "I am master here". And So ames walked on.

From far in the clear air the bells of the church where he and Irene had been married were pealing in "practice" for the advent of Christ, the chimes ringing out above the sound of traffic. He felt a craving for strong drink, to lull him to indifference, or rouse him to fury. If only he could burst out of himself, out of this web that for the first time in his life he felt around him. If only he could surrender to the thought: "Divorce her-turn her outl She has forgotten you. Forget her!"

If only he could surrender to the thought: "Let her go-she has suffered enough!"

If only he could surrender to the desire: "Make a slave of her-she is in your powerl"

If only even he could surrender to the sudden vision:

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"What does it all matter?" Forget himself for a minute, forget that it mattered what he did, forget that whatever he did he must sacrifice something.

If only he could act on an impulse I He could forget nothing; surrender to no thought, vision,

or desire; it was all too serious; too close around him, an unbreakable cage.

On the far side of the Square newspaper boys were calling their evening wares, and the ghoulish cries mingled and jangled with the sound of those church bells.

Soarnes covered his ears. The thought flashed across him that but for a chance, he himself, and not Bosinney, might be lying dead, and she, instead of crouching there like a shot bird with those dying eyes-


1. Speak on the way Irene is presented in the passage: a) in the author's description and b) in represented speech.

2. Pick out metaphors and similes and analyse them. 3. Discuss epithets in the author's speech and in repre

sented speech. 4. Analyse represented speech used in the passage and

its peculiarities. 5. Pick out cases of the combination of represented speech

with direct speech and speak on the effect achieved. 6. Speak on the function of repetition. 7. Discuss the images the author repeatedly resorts to

to describe Irene.

ERNEST HEMINGWAY THE SHORT HAPPY LIFE OF FRANCIS MACOMBER

The passage presents the beginning of the story.1

It was now lunch time and they were all sitting under the double green fly of the dining tent pretending that nothing had happened.

"Will you have lime juice or lemon squash?" Macomber asked.

"I'll have a gimlet.... Robert Wilson told him.

1 The reader is referred to the whole text of the story published In Selected Stories by Ernest Hemingway. Progress Publishers. Moscow. 1971.

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"I'll have a gimlet too. I need something," Macomber·s wife said.

"I suppose it's the thing to do," Macomber agreed. "Tell him to make three gimlets."

The mess boy had started them already, lifting the bottles out of the canvas cooling bags that sweated wet in the wind that blew through the trees that shaded the tents.

"What had I ought to give them?" Macomber asked. "A quid would be plenty," Wilson told him. "You don't

want to spoil them." "Will the headman distribute it?" "Absolutely." Francis Macomber had, half an hour before, been car

ried to his tent from the edge of the camp in triumph on the arms and shoulders of the cook, the personal boys, the skinner and the porters. The gunbearers had taken no part in the demonstration. When the native boys put him down at the door of his tent, he had shaken all their hands, received their congratulations, and then gone into the tent and sat on the bed until his wife came in. She did not speak to him when she came in and he left the tent at once to wash his face and hands in the portable wash basin outside and go over to the dining tent to sit in a comfortable canvas chair in the breeze and the shade.

"You've got your lion," Robert Wilson said to him, "and a damned fine one too."

Mrs. Macomber looked at Wilson quickly. She was an extremely handsome and well-kept woman of the beauty and social position which had, five years before, commanded five thousand dollars as the price of endorsing, with photographs, a beauty product which she had never used. She had been married to Francis Macomber for eleven years.

"He is a good lion, isn't he?" Macomber said. His wife looked at him now. She looked at both these men as though she had never seen them before.

One, Wilson, the white hunter, she knew she had never truly seen before. He was about middle height with sandy hair, a stubby mustache, a very red face and extremely cold blue eyes with faint white wrinkles at the corners that grooved merrily when he smiled. He smiled at her now and she looked away from his face at the way his shoulders sloped in the loose tunic he wore with the four big cartridges held in loops where the left breast pocket should have been, at his big brown hands, his old slacks, his very dirty boots

80

and back to his red face again. She noticed where the baked red of his face stopped in a white line that marked the circle left by his Stetson hat that hung now from one of the pegs of the tent pole.

"Well, here's to the lion," Robert L Wilson said. He smiled at her again and, not smiling, she looked curiously at her husband.

Francis Macomber was very tall, very well built if you did not mind that length of bone, dark, his hair cropped like an oarsman, rather thin-lipped, and was considered handsome. He was dressed in the same sort of safari clothes that Wilson wore except that his were new, he was thirtyfive years old, kept himself very fit, was good at court games, had a number of big-game fishing records, and had just shown himself, very publicly, to be a coward.

"Here's to the lion," he said. "I can't ever thank you for what you did."

Margaret, his wife, looked away from him and back to Wilson.

"Let's not talk about the lion," she said. Wilson looked over at her without smiling and now she

smiled at him. "It's been a very strange day," she said. "Hadn't you

ought to put your hat on even under the canvas at noon? You told me that, you know."

"Might put it on," said Wilson. "You know you have a very red face, Mr. Wilson," she

told him and smiled again. "Drink," said Wilson. "I don't think so," she said. "Francis drinks a great

deal, but his face is never red." "It's red today," Macomber tried a joke. "No," .said Margaret. "It's .mine that's red today. But

Mr. Wilson's is always red." "Must be racial," said Wilson. "I say, you wouldn't

like to drop my beauty as a topic, would you?" "I've just started on it." "Let's chuck it," said Wilson. "Conversation is going to be so difficult," Margaret said. "Don't be silly, Ma~ot," her husband said. "No difficulty," Wifson said. "Got a damn fine lion." Margot looked at them both and .they both saw that she

was going to cry. Wilson had seen it.coming for a long time and he dreaded it. Macomber was past dreading it. 6-2886 81

"I wish it hadn't happened. Oh, 1 wish it hadn't happened," she said and started for her tent. She made no noise of crying but they could see that her shoulders were shaking under the rose-colored, sun-proofed' shirt she wore.

"Women upset," said Wilson to the tall man. "Amounts to nothing. Strain on the nerves and one thing 'n another."

"No," said Macomber. "I suppose that 1 rate that for the rest of my life now."

"Nonsense. Let's have a spot of the giant killer," said Wilson. "Forget the whole thing. Nothing to it anyway."

"We might try," said Macomber. "I won't forget what you did for me though."

"Nothing," said Wilson. "All nonsense." So they sat there in the shade where the camp was

pitched under some wide-topped acacia trees with a boulderstrewn cliff behind them, and a stretch of grass that ran to the bank of a boulder-filled stream in front with forest beyond it, and drank their just-cool lime drinks and avoided one another's eyes wh i1e the boys set the table for lunch. Wilson could tell that the bOys all knew about it now and when he saw Macomber's personal boy looking curiously at his master while he was putting dishes on the table he snapped at him in Swahili. The boy turned away with his face blank.

"What were you telling him?" Macomber asked. "Nothing. Told him to look alive or 1 'd see he got about

fifteen of the best." "What's that? Lashes?" "It's quite illegal," Wilson said. "You're supposed to

fine them." "Do you still have them whipped?" "Oh, yes. They could raise a row if they chose to com

plain. But they don't. They prefer it to the fines." "How strangel" said Macomber. "Not strange, really," Wilson said. "Which would you

rather do? Take a good biTching or lose your pay?" Then he felt embarrassed at asking it and before Ma

comber could answer he went on, "We all take a beating every day, you know, one way or another."

This was no better. "Good God," he thought. "I am a diplomat, aren't J?"

"Yes r we take a beating," said Macomber, still not looking at him. "I'm awfully sorry about that lion business. It doesn't have to go any further, does it? I mean no one will hear about it, will they?"

1m

"You mean will I tell it at the Mathaiga Club?" Wilson looked at him now coldly. He had not expected this. So he's a bloody four-letter man as well as a bloody coward, he thought. I rather liked him too until today. But how is one to know about an American?

"No," said Wilson. "I'm a professional hunter. We never talk about our clients. You can be quite easy on that. It's supposed to be bad form to ask us not to talk though."

He had decided now that to break would be much easier. He would eat, then, by himself and could read a book with his meals. They would eat by themselves. He would see them through the safari on a very formal basis-what was it the French called it? Distinguished consideration-and it would be a damn sight easier than having to go through this emotional trash. He'd insult him and make a good clear break. Then he could read a book with his meals and he'd still be drinking their whisky. That was the phrase for it when a safari went bad. You ran into another white hunter and you asked, "How is everything going?" and he answered, "Oh, I'm still drinking their whisky," and you knew everything had gone to pot.

"I'm sorry," Macomber said and looked at him with his American face that would stay adolescent until it became middle-aged, and Wilson noted his crew-cropped hair, fine eyes only faintly shifty, good nose, thin lips and handsome jaw. "I'm sorry I didn't realize that. There are lots of things I don't know."

So what could he do, Wilson thought. He was all ready to break it off quickly and neatly and here the beggar was apologizing after he had just insulted him. He made one more attempt.

"Don't worry about me talking," he said. "I have a living to make. You know in Africa no woman ever misses her lion and no white man ever bolts."

"I bolted like a rabbit," Macomber said. Now what in hell were you going to do about a man who

talked like that, Wilson wondered. Wilson looked at Macomber with his flat, blue, machine

gunner's eyes and the other smiled back at him. He had a pleasant smile if you <lid not notice how his eyes showed when he was hurt.

"Maybe I can fix it up on buffalo," he said. "We're after them next, aren't we?"

"In the morning if you like," Wilson told him. Perhaps ,. 83

he had been wrong. This was certainly the way to take it. You most certainly could not tell a damned thing about an American. He was all for Macomber again. If you could forget the morning. But, of course, you couldn't. The morning had been about as bad as they cqme.

"Here comes the Memsahib," he said. She was walking over from her tent looking refreshed and cheerful and quite lovely. She had a very perfect oval face. so perfect that you expected her to be stupid. But she wasn't stupid, Wilson thought, no, not stupid.

"How is the beautiful red-faced Mr. Wilson? Are you feeling better, Francis, my pearl?"

"Oh. much," said Macomber. "I've dropped the whole thing," she said, sitting down

at the table. "What importance is there to whether Francis is any good at killing lions? That's not his trade. That's Mr. Wilson's trade. Mr. Wilson is really very impressive killing anything. You do kill anything, don't you?"

"Oh, anything," said Wilson. "Simply anything." They are, he thought, the hardest in the world; the hardest, the cruelest, the most predatory. and the most attractive and their men have softened or gone to pieces nervously as they have hardened. Or is it that they pick men they can handle? They can't know that much at the age they marry, he thought. He was grateful that he had gone through his education on American women before now because this was a very attractive one.

"We're going after buff in the morning," he told her. "I'm coming," she said. "No, you're not." "Oh, yes, I am. Mayn't I. Francis?" "Why not stay in camp?" "Not for anything," she said. "I wouldn't miss something

like today for anything." When she left, Wilson was thinking, when she went off

to cry, she seemed a hell of a fine woman. She seemed to understand, to realize, to be hurt for him and for herself and to know how things really stood. She is away for twenty minutes and now she is back, simply enamelled in that American female cruelty. They are the damnedest women. Really the damnedest.

"We'll put pn another show for you tomorrow," Francis Macomber said.

"You're not coming." Wilson said.

84

"You're very mistaken," she told him. "And 1 want so to see you perform again. You were lovely this morning. Th is is if blowing th ings' heads off is lovely."

"I'd like to clear away that lion business," Macomber said. "It's not very pleasant to have your wife see you do something like that."

1 should think it would be even more unpleasant to do it, Wilson thought, wife or no wife, or to talk about it having done it. But he said, "I wouldn't think about that any more. Anyone could be upset by his first lion. That's all over. "

But that night after dinner and a whisky and soda by the fire before going to bed, as Francis Macomber lay on his cot with the mosquito bar over him and listened to the night noises it was not all over. It was neither all over nor was it beginning. It was there exactly as it happened with some parts of it indelibly emphasized and he was miserably ashamed at it. But more than shame he felt cold, hollow fear in him. The fear was still there like a cold slimy hollow in all the emptiness where once his confidence had been and it made him feel sick. It was still there with him now.

It had started the night before when he had wakened and heard the lion roaring somewhere up along the river. It was a deep sound and at the end th~rewere sort of coughing grunts that made him seem just outside the tent, and when Francis Macomber woke in the night to hear it he was afraid. He could hear his wife breathing quietly, asleep. There was no one to tell he was afraid, nor to be afraid with him, and, lying alone, he did not know the Somali proverb that says a brave man is always frightened three times by a lion: when he first sees h is track, when he first hears him roar and when he first confronts him. Then while they were eating breakfast by lantern light out in the dining tent, before the sun was up, the lion roared again and Francis thought he was just at the edge of camp.

Stylistic Analysis

This story is one of Hemingway's masterpieces. It gives a deep insight into human nature and a true picture of contemporary social and family relations in bourgeois society. Hemingway's basic literary principle which is usually interpreted by his critics as "the iceberg principle" is master-

85

fully realized in this story. "If a writer of prose knows enough about what he is writing about he may omit things that he knows and the reader, if the writer is writing truly enough, will have the feeling of those things as strongly as though the writer had stated them. The. dignity of movement of an iceberg is due to only one eighth of it being above water." (E. Hemingway)

The writer leaves the surface comparatively bare: the meaning is plain and simple. The impression of simplicity which strikes the reader from the first is brought out not only by the plain dialogues, the common matter-of-fact events at the beginning of the story but by the language itself.

A close study of the story for the purposes of examining its style involves a careful observation and a detailed description of the language phenomena at various levels.

The text of the story is not homogeneous: the author's narration is interrupted by the dialogues of the characters; inner thoughts of some characters (mostly Wilson's) are imperceptibly interwoven with the narration.

Wilson's inner thoughts a(~ rendered either in the form of direct speech (as on p. 82: "Good God, to he thought. "I am a diplomat, aren't I?") or in the form of represented inner speech (as on p. 83: "He would eat, then, by himself and could read a book with his meals. They would eat by themselves. He would see them through the safari on a very formal basis-what was it the French called it?")

A rigorous analysis of the vocabulary of the story clearly shows that the author employs common words in his narration and a restricted number of colloquial words in the dialogue and represented speech. Here are some examples of colloquial words: "Tell him to make three gimlets."; "You've got your lion," Robert Wilson said to him, "and a damned fine one too."; "Oh, yes. They could raise a row."

The writer's strong sense of place is revealed by the use of barbarisms, still they are not numerous and always to the point: "He was dressed in the same sort of safari clothes that Wilson wore ... " Safari-a hunting expedition (Swahili).

In many instances the reader sees that the number of synonyms is deliberately restricted. Note the use of verbs of communication ("to say" and its synonyms).

On the first four pages1 the verb "to say" is used 22 1 See Selected Stories by Ernest Hemingway. Progress Publishers.

Moscow, 1971, pp. 231-234.

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times; "to teH"-3; "to ask"-2; "to speak", "to agree"once each. No other verb of communication is used.

Besides, the author does not usually add any adverbial modifier to show the manner in which the characteI' speaks. See the first page where the author plainly states: "Macomber asked"; "Robert Wilson told him"; "Macomber's wife said"; "Macomber agreed"; "Macomber asked"; "Wilson told him".

The impression of impassive matter-of-fact narration is brough t ou t also by a very limited use of words denoting feelings. On the first pages we can find only the following words: "pretending", "in triumph", "smiled", "liked".

Hemingway's scrupulous aUention to minute details adds to the maUer-of-fact and logical tone of the story.

Underneath this simple exterior of restraint there lies a rich treasure of suggestions and implications. The very structure of the story adds to the effect of implication but the actual meaning of what is going on is not clear at the beginning of the story, as the feelings suggested by the writer are not precisely determined. The reader however feels that something has happened and that the characters are strained and full of hidden apprehension and suppressed emotions.

The effect of implication and suspense is brought about in various ways, firstly by the direct means of stating that something has happened but not revealing what. Observe the repetition of the word "happen". The story opens with the sentence: "It was now lunch time and they were all sitting under the double green fly of the dining tent pretending that nothing had happened." Margot's words on p. 82: "I wish it hadn't happened. Oh, I wish it hadn't happened."

Note the word "pretending" which characterizes from the start the atmosphere of suppressed emotion.

There are many other instances where the characters hint at something which took place before the story began: Wilson's words "Forget the whole thing."; Macomber's answer "I won't forget what you did for me though."; Macomber's words "I'm awfully sorry about that lion business."; Wilson's thoughts "If you could forget the morning. But, of course, you couldn't. The morning had been about as bad as they come."; Margot's mocking words "I've dropped the whole thing ... What importance is there to whether Francis is any good at killing lions."

Note that this last remark is more concrete, it hints at what actually happened in a more precise manner. See also Macomber's words: "I bolted like a rabbit."

87

Margot's mocking remarks: '" wouldn't miss something like today for anything." "And I want so to see you perform again. You were lovely this morning."

Note the various cases of logical periphrasis used by the characters to say in a round-about way what happened that morning. The reader is kept in consfantsuspense: "the whole thing"; "about it"; "that lion business"; "something like today"

Observe also the repeated use of the verb "to forget" stressing the intention of the speaker not to think of some unp leasan t fact; the verb "to forget" is used four times and its contextual synonym "to drop "-twice.

The hints and suggestive remarks uttered by the characters in their seemingly plain unpretentious dialogues are very effective in their implication.

The effect of implication and suspense is brought about indirectly too: the author mentions the native boys' reaction to what Mr. Macomber did, leaving the reader in the dark as to the actual reasons for their expressions. "Francis Macomber had, half an hour before, been carried to his tent from the edge of the camp in triumph on the arms and shoulders of the cook, the personal' boys, the skinner and the porters. The gunbearers had taken no part in the demonstration. When the native boys put him down at the door of his tent, he had shaken all their hands, received their congratulations, and then gone into the tent..."

The words "in triumph", "demonstration", "congratulations" imply that an action which was performed by Mr. Macomber before the story began merits praise and congratulation, but later the reader finds out that Mr. Macomber "had just shown himself, very publicly, to be a coward". This unexpected phrase and the further description of what took place in the morning make the words "in triumph" and "congratulations" sound ironical to the reader. The macrocontext that comes after these words affects them and determines their meaning.

The peculiar use of the verbs "to look" and "to smile" may also be regarded as an indirect means of creating the effect of implication.

The repeated use of the verb "to look" becomes the expression of Mrs. Macomber's silent reaction and response to the other characters' actions and words: "'You've got your lion,' Robert Wilson said to him, 'and a damned fine one too.' Mrs Macomber looked at Wilson quickly." "'He is a

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good lion, isn't he?' Macomber said. His wife looked at him now. She looked at both these men as though she had never seen them berore." '''Well, here's to the lion,' Robert Wilson said. He smiled at her again and, not smiling, she looked curiously at her husband."

So, whenever the lion is mentioned the writer shows the silent reaction of Macomber's wire by plainly stating that she constantly looks at her husband or Wilson. The reader becomes aware of some additional meanings hidden in the verb "to look" It is hinted at by the macrocontext of the story and in a few cases determined by the modifiers the writer uses: ("looked") "quickly", "curiously", "away". However additional contextual meaning and emotive colouring is received mainly from the macrocontext. This manner of describing the character's reaction and emotions by presenting simple external actions may be considered a specific SO-metonymical description which is realized only in the macrocontext.

The SO of metonymical description makes the reader supply what is missing and creates the effect of implication. This is one of the ways in which Hemingway employs his "iceberg principle": "I leave out what I know but knowledge is what makes the underwater part of the iceberg," writes Hemingway.

In a similar way the writer uses the verb "to smile": the implication conveyed by this verb is also brought out in the macrocontext. The role of the macrocontext in Hemingway's story is of utmost importance.

Note instances where the verb "to smile" is used: "He smiled at her now and she looked away from his face." "'Well, here's to the lion,' Robert Wilson said. He smiled at her again and, not smiling, she looked curiously at her husband." "'Let's not talk about the lion,' she said. Wilson looked over at her without smiling and now she smiled at him."

So Hemingway's story devoid at the beginning of any apparent emotional colouring, of any apparent expression of the characters' feelings is impassive and matter-of-fact only on the surface whereas beneath the surface can be found intense emotions, meditations, sufferings.

Read carefully the whole story and observe other instances of the use of the verbs .. to look" and "to smile" which can be regarded as metonymical descriptions.

Note that the feelings and emotional reactions of Mrs. Macomber and Wilson are mostly conveyed by this means.

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Mr. Macomber's fright, on the other hand, is rendered both directly and indirectly (metonymically). Read the two last paragraphs on p. 85 and pick out the words denoting feelings.

Note the role of repetition in heightening the impression of Macomber's growing fear: the wprd "fear" is used here twice, and the word "afraid" is repeated three times.

One more note about Hemingway's usage of words and how it is related to the description of his characters.

Read the paragraph on p. 80 depicting Mrs. Macomber. The description is more business-like than emotional. The adjective "handsome" stresses her vigour rather than feminine charm. Further the reader comes across the following statement: "She had a very perfect oval face, so perfect that you expected her to be stupid." The adjective "perfect" is used here in its logical, direct meaning ("a perfect oval face"), stressing the shape of the face and not one's emotional impression. The impartial tone and the absence of emotive words in describing Mrs. Macomber may be accounted for by two reasons: the writer's principle to leave the surface comparatively bare of any emotion, and the desire to emphasize the woman's nature by. choosing relevant words and expressions (note the writer's way to explain her purpose for desiring to marry again- "to better herself").

Wilson's thoughts about Mrs. Macomber are presented in a different way: "She is away for twenty minutes and now she is back, simply enamelled in that American female cruelty. They are the damnedest women. Really the damnedest." The adjective "American" has acquired in this sentence a contextual emotive meaning affected by the meanings of the words which follow ("cruelty", "damnedest").

Note a different way the adjective "American" is used when applied to Francis Macomber in the writ~r's narration: '''1 'm sorry,' Macomber said and looked at him with his American face that would stay adolescent until it became middle-aged ... " To determine what the adjective "American" means in the combination "his American face" we must consider the macrocontext. The words "that would stay adolescent" throw light on the meaning of "American" which acquires an additional contextual emotive meaning of young, boyish, inexperienced. The macrocontext helps to determine what a word means and suggests additional emotive shades of meaning.

Analyse the use of the adjectives "red" and "blue" in the story. Observe the repeti tion of the word "red" in de-

90

scribing Wilson, the use of the antonym "white" ("She noticed where the baked red of his face stopped in a white line." p. 81), play on the word "red" ("Francis drinks. a great deal, but his face is never red."; "'It's red today,' Macomber tried a joke." p. 81)-all these peculiarities of usage stress the adjective "red" as an important detail in describing Wilson and make it an epithet.

Similarly, the adjective "blue" is affected by the surrounding words (it is constantly used in such combinations as "cold blue eyes", "his flat, blue, machinegunner's eyes") and had acquired an additional contextual meaning making it an epithet in the macrocontext.

It is the macrocontext that determines the meanings of some words and suggests their implication in Hemingway's story, and therefore should not be underestimated.

The grammatical peculiarities of the story serve the basic stylistic purpose-that of giving the impression of simplicity and impartiality on the one hand, and creating implication and emotional tension, on the other.

Long sentences which are so characteristic of the author's narration in the story do not produce a sense of complexity. On the contrary, the long sentences give the illusion of simplicity. The impression of simplicity is generally maintained by a peculiar sentence structure.

The most striking feature ·which is easily observed is the repetition of one and the same conjunction with in the sentence. Read this sentence:

"The mess boy had started them already, lifting the bottles out of the canvas cooling bags that sweated wet in the wind that blew through the trees that shaded the tents."

Similar structures can be seen on the same page: "She was an extremely handsome and well-kept woman

of the beauty and social position which had, five years before, commanded five thousand dollars as the price of endorsing, with photographs, a beauty product !i.'hidz she had never used."

Or (p. 81): "She noticed where .the baked red of his face stopped in

a white line that marked the circle left by his Stetson hat that hung now from one of the pegs of the tent pole."

The use of one and the same conjunction and one and the

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same type of subordinate clause within the sentence (a complex sentence with successive subordination) creates a monotonous analogous description where the author seems concerned only with presenting a bare enumeration of details.

It is interesting to point out thai folklore contains c1earcut structures of this type with successive subordination as in the well-known nursery rhyme "This is the house that Jack bu i It ... " .

The established syntactical pattern which is repeated within the sentence is a stylistically si~nificant feature in the story leading to a seeming lack of variety and maintaining the effect of simplicity.

Note that this holds true not only of the sentence-structure but to a larger extent of the paragraph-structure. The establ ished pattern (or patterns) is repeated with a sl igh t variation throughout the paragraph giving the impression of analo~y and logic in structure. Read the paragraph on p. 85 beginning:

"It had started the night before when he had wakened and heard the lion roaring s'?!f1ewhere up along the river."

The predominant sentence-type in the above paragraph is the complex sentence with a subordinate clause of time. The conjunction "when" is repeated five times, the conjunctions "while" and "before" are used once each.

The paragraph being a unity of ideas presents in the story a striking unity of syntactic structure. There is no conspicuous topic sentence, the paragraph gives a series of details or actions which go on and on, as if the writer assumes that his readers want only to learn as quickly and easily as possible what happens. The unity of the paragraph manifests itself in the established syntactical pattern used throughout the whole of the paragraph and in the one and the same conjunct ion.

Repetition assumes in the story various structural forms. Catch-word repetition (anadiplosis) is frequently used giving the impression of plain, logical structure: "Margot looked at them both and they both saw that she was going to cry." "But more than shame he felt cold, hollow tear in him. The tear was still there ... "

Note that anadiplosis produces the effect of a "chainpattern" 'structure similar to that produced by successive subordination often used in the story.

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Anadiplosis is sometimes employed to connect successive paragraphs.

The dominant conjunction which is employed fr@quently and variously in the story is "and".

The repetition of the conjunction "and" usually maintains parallelism and rhythm:

"In the orchard bush they found a herd of impala, and leaving the car they stalked one old ram with long, widespread horns and Macomber killed it with a very creditable shot that knocked the buck down at a good two hundred yards and sent the herd off bounding wildly and leaping over one another's backs in long, leg-drawn-up leaps as unbelievable and as floating as those one makes sometimes in dreams. "1

The effect of a rhythmical arrangement is heightened in this example by alliteration at the end of the paragraph.

Suspense which is the basic compositional feature of the story manifests itself in the structure of most paragraphs.

Read the paragraph by which the first part of the story culminates:

"That was the story of the lion. Macomber did not know how the lion had felt before he started his rush, nor during it when the unbelievable smash of the .505 with a muzzle velocity of two tons had hit him in the mouth, nor what kept him coming after that, when the second ripping crash had smashed h is hind quarters and he had come crawling on toward the crashing, blasting thing that had destroyed him. Wilson knew something about it and only expressed it by saying, "Damned fine lion," but Macomber did not know how Wilson felt about things either. He did not know how his wife felt except that she was through with him."2

Note that the paragraph tends toward balanced structure for the sake of contrast: "Macomber did not know ... ," "Wilson knew ... ". The repeated use of the words "knew", "did not know" adds to the effect of contrast and gives the impression of a certain established pattern of the paragraph. Observe that parallel constructions are interrupted by inser-

1 See Selected Stories by Ernest Hemingway. Progress Publishers. Moscow, 1971, pp. 239-240.

2 See Selected Stories by Ernest Hemingway. Progress Publishers. Moscow, 1971, p. 252.

ting modifiers (three instances of subordinate clause of time introduced by "before", ''when'', "when") and some other relevant details ("of the .505 with a muzzle velocity of two tons"). All this brings about the effect of suspense.

Syntactical parallelism supported and intensified by lexical repetition (four instances of "know"; "nor .,. nor"; "when, when "; "how, how ... ") lends an unmistakable rhythm to the passage. Note that the length of sentences and clauses is shortened and the number of inserted details is lessened by the end of the paragraph and so causing a change in rhythm: from a slow, even rhythm to a rapid, excited rhythm. This change of rhythm heightens the emotional tension and reinforces the implication suggested by the last unexpected sentence of the paragraph: "He did not know how his wife felt except that she was through with him."

Note the repetition of the words "great beauty" and "knew" in the paragraph following the one we have just analysed.

The repeated words do not assume any definite compositional pattern, such a simple scattered repetition contributes to the impression of a colloquial simplicity of narration:

"His wife had been a great beauty and she was still a great beauty in Africa, but she was not a great enough beauty any more at home to be able to leave him and better herself and she knew it and he knew it. She had missed the chance to leave him and he knew it. If he had been better with women she would probably have started to worry about him getting another new, beautiful wife: but she knew too much about him to worry about him either."1

The principle of repetition which reveals itself in the use of the established syntactic pattern and the repetition of one and the same conjunction often leads to the SD of cumulation:

"So they sat there in the shade where the camp was pitched under some wide-topped acacia trees with a boulderstrewn cliff behind them, and a stretch of grass that ran to the bank of a boulder-filled stream in front with forest beyond it, and drank their just-cool lime drinks and avoided one another's eyes ... " (p. 82).

1 See Selected Stories by Ernest Hemingway. Pr~ess Publishers. Moscow, 1971, p. 253.

IK

The clash between the syntactical analogy and semantic dislanc(' in the SD of cumulation brings about Ihe effect of implication and hints at the real relations of the characters.

Analyse the paragraph which contains a stdking case of cumulation:

"Francis Macomber was very tall, very well built if you did nol mind Ihat length of bone, dark, his hair cropped I ikl' 8n OarSll1all. rather th in-lipped, and was considered handsome. I Ie \\,:15 dressed in the same sort of safari c10lhes that Wilson wore except Ihat his were new, he was thirty-five years old, kept himself very fit, was good at court games, had a number of big-game fishing records, and had just shown himself, very publicly, to be a coward."

Observe the structure of the paragraph consisting of two sentences based on the analogous description of the main character.

Note that there is no topic sentence. Each sentence of the paragraph presenls an enumeration and includes six homogeneous members; the last member in both sentences is linked by means of the conjunction "and".

Pay attention to a change in the type of the last predicates: in the first sentence "was" of the last predicate ("and was considered handsome") is grammatically different (it is an auxiliary verb) from "was" of the preceding predicates (where it is a link verb); likewise "had" of the last predicate in Ihe second sentence ("and had just shown himself, very publicly, to be a coward") is grammatically different (it is also an auxiliary verb) from "had" of the preceding predicales (where it is a notional verb).

All thfse similar features contribute to the impression of parallflism in the structure of the paragraph. The last phrase of the first sentence may be regarded as a logical summing up of what was previously said ("and was considered handsome"). The last phrase of the second sentence built on the same grammatical principles unexpectedly presents a semantically alien thought ("and had just shown himself, very publicly, to be a coward"). Cumulation is striking as the clash between the grammatical identity and semantic difference is sudden and strong. Cumulation gives rise to implication and presents the first obvious hint at what happened before the story began.

Now examine the most dramatic and expressive passage which presents the crucial point of the story.

t5

The main dramatic force is achieved by syntax-by the writer's masterly utilization of the resources concealed in the syntactic structure of the language. Stylistic tendencies and peculiarities of the story manifest themselves in the passage most intensely and palpably. The paragraph consists of two sentences. The sentence presenting a dramatic culmination is a very long complex sentence, with inner subordination, consisting of 7 co-ordinate clauses and 116 words-the longest sentence in the story. It gives a detailed enumeration of Macomber's successive actions and his feelings:

"Wilson, who was ahead was kneeling shooting, and Macomber, as he fired, unhearing his shot in the roaring of Wilson's gun, saw fragments like slate burst from the huge boss of the horns, and the head jerked, he shot again at the wide nostrils and saw the horns jolt again and fragments fly, and he did not see Wilson now and, aiming carefully, shot again with the buffalo's huge bulk almost on him, his rifle almost level with the on-coming head, nose out, and he could see the little wicked eyes and the head started to lower and he felt a sudden white-hot, blinding flash explode inside his head and that was all he ever felt."1

The passage tends to rhythmical structure: parallel constructions, various types of repetition, a peculiar scheme of sense-group division-all contribute to this impression. The distribution of the verbs reveals their more or less regular alternations: "saw"-"shot"-Mdid not see"-"shot"-"could see"- "felt"- "felt". The conjunction "and" is repeated II times.

Rhythm reveals itself most obviously in the way the passage is divided into sense-groups which present a certain regularity:

the 1st clause contains 2nd 3rd 4th 5th 6th 7th

" n ---

" " " ---

" " "

3 sense-groups 6 " 3 " 6 .,

2 2 2

1 See Selected Stories by Ernest Hemingway. Progress PublisheJS. Moscow, 1971, p. 269.

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All these features lend balance to the passage. A change in rhythm from slow to rapid reinforces the effect of sus-pense and climax. .

Suspense is created by a number of interrupting but relevant details postponing the completion of the thought. The length of the interrupting phrases and coordinate clauses is shortened by the end of the passage (note once again that the last three clauses contain two sense-groups while the first four-three or six) and causing a change in rhythm adds to emotional tension.

Suspense is suddenly broken by an unexpected unpredictable concluding phrase: "and he felt a sudden white-hot, blinding flash explode inside his head and that was all he ever felt." This unpredictability (in meaning) and analogy (in syntactic form) brings about the effect of cumulation and climax. The repetition of the verb "to feel" (a kind of framing) which is substituted for the verb "to see" of the preceding clauses heigh tens the stylistic effect of climax giving the impression of finality.

The paragraph following the dramatic culmination is different in structure and in its stylistic effect:

"Wilson had ducked to one side to get in a shoulder shot. Macomber had stood solid and shot for the nose, shooting a touch high each time and hitt.i!1g the heavy horns, splintering and chipping them like hitting a slate roof, and Mrs Macomber, in the car, had shot at the buffalo with the 6.5 Mannlicher as it seemed about to gore Macomber and had hit her husband about two inches up and a little to one side of the base of h is sku II. "1

The sentences are not so long, not so fragmentary, the relevant details are not so numerous. Note that some details are repeated ("like slate"-"like hitting a slate roof"). The rhythm of the paragraph is even and quiet giving the impression of an impassionate description. The paragraph may be regarded as a kind of comment on what happened.

Note the use of the Past Perfect which plainly refers the actions to those which have been mentioned.

The idea of suspense and the effect of implication is masterfully revealed at the end of the story-the writer does not say plainly whethef it was an accident or murder. The

1 See Selected Stories by Ernest Hemingway. Progress Publishers. Moscow, 1971, p. 269.

7-2896 97

"'Titer presents mly a sequence of outward actions Mid the -reader is left to imagine more than the words themselves OOIlvey.

ERNEST HEMINc.W~ y CAT IN THE RAIN

There ,."we only tv.o Americans stopping at the hotel. They did not know any of the people they passed on the stairs on their way to and from their room. Their room was m the second floor facing the sea. It also faced the public garden and the ... ·ar monument. There were big palms and green benches in the public garden. In the good weather there was always an artist ... ·ith his easel. Artists liked the way the palms gretr.' and the bright colors of the hotels facing the gardens and the sea. I talians came from a long way off to look up at the war monument. It was made of bronze and glistened in the rain. It was raining. The rain dripped from the palm trees. Water stood in pools on the gravel paths. The sea broke in a long line in the rain and slipped back down the beach to come up 'Pd break again in a long line in the rain. The motor cars ... ·ere gone from the square by the war monument. Across the square in the doorway of the cafe a ... ·aiter stood looking out at the empty square.

The American wife stood at the window looking out. Outside right under their .... indow a cat was crouched under ODe of the dripping green tables. The cat was trying to make herself so compact that she would not be dripped on.

"I'm going dov.n and get that kitty," the American wife said.

-I'U do it," her husband offered from the bed. "No, I'll get it. The poor kitty out trying to keep dry

under a table." The husband ""ent on reading, lying propped up with

the two piIlows at the foot of the bed. "Don't get v,'et," he said. The wife went do,."nstairs and the hotel owner stood up

and bowed to her as she passed the office. His desk was at the far end of the office. He was an old man and very tall.

"11 piove," the wife said. She liked the hotel keeper. "Si, si, Signora, brutto tempo. It's very bad weather. 1:1

He stood behind his desk in the far end of the dim room. The .... ife iiked him. She liked the deadly serious way he received any complaints. She liked his dignity. She liked the

98

way he wanted to serve her. She liked the way he felt about being a hotel-keeper. She liked his old, heavy face and big hands.

Liking him she opened the door and looked out.' It W3:

raining harder. A man in a rubber cape was crossing the emp· ty square to the cafe. The cat would be around to the right. Perhaps she could go along under the eaves. As she stood in the doorway an umbrella opened behind her. It was the maid who looked after their room.

"You must not get wet," she smiled, speaking Italian. Of course, the hotel-keeper had sent her.

With the maid holding the umbrella over her, she walked along the gravel path until she was under their window. The table was there, washed bright green in the rain, but the cat was gone. She was suddenly disappointed. The maid looked up at her.

"Ha perduto qualque cosa, Signora?" "There was a cat," said the American girl. "A cat?" "Si, il gatto." "A cat?" the maid laughed. "A cat in the rain?" "Yes," she said, ''under the table." Then, "Oh, 1 wanted

it so much. 1 wanted a kitty." When she talked English the maid's face tightened. "Come, Signora," she said. "'We must get back inside.

You will be wet." "I suppose so," said the American girl. They went back along the gravel path and passed in the

door. The maid stayed outside to close the umbrella. As the American girl passed the office, the padrone bowed from his desk. Something felt very small and tight inside the girl. The padrone made her feel very small and at the same time really important. She had a momentary feeling of being of supreme importance. She went on up the stairs. She opened the door of the room. George was on the bed, reading.

"Did you get the cat?" he asked, putting the book down. "It was gone." "Wonder where it went to," he said, resting his eyes from

reading. She sat down on the bed. "I wanted it so much'," she said. "I don't know why 1

wanted it so much. I wanted tha' poor kitty. It isn't any fun to be a poor kitty out in the rain."

George was reading again. 7· 99

She went over and sat in froot of the mirror of the dressing table looking at herself with the hand glass. Sbe studied her profile. first one side and then the other. Then she studied the back of her head and her neck.

"Don·t you think it would be , good idea if • let my hair grow out?" she asked, looking at her profile again.

George looked up and saw the back of her nedc, dipped close like a boy's.

-. like it the way it is." ... get so tired of it," she said. -. get so tired of looking

like a boy." George shifted his positioo in the bed. He hadn't looked

away from ber since she started to speak. -You look pretty dam nice," he said. She laid the mirror down 00 the dresser and went over

to the window and looked out. It was getting dark. -. want to pull my bair back tight and smooth and make

a big knot at the back that. can feel," she said. -I want to have a kitty to sit 00 my lap and purr when 1 stroke her."

-Yeah?- George said from the bed. -And 1 want to eat at a table with my own silver and •

want candles. And I want it to be spring and 1 want to brush my hair out in froot of a mirror and I want a kitty and I want some new clothes."

-ab. shut up and get something to read," George said. He was reading again.

His wife was looking out of the window. It was quite dark DOW and still raining in the palm tnes.

-Anyway. I want a cat ... she said, -. Vlmt a cat. I want a cat now. If I can't have long hair or any hm, I can have a cat."

George was not listening. He was reading his book. His wife looked out of the window where the ligbt bad ame 00 in the square.

Someme knoc:ked at the door. -Avanti." George said. He looked up from his book. In the doorway stood the maid. She held a big tortoise-shelJ

cat pressed tight against ~ and swung down against he- body. -Excuse me, - she said. -the padrooe asUd me to briug

th is for the Signora."

The story is a ~cboI~ study nflettiDg Hemmpay's approa:b ,to life in . As it is rightly strased by HemiDpzy's critics bis taleut lies, fint aod foremod la 1m deep psychologiaJ illsight iDto bDDall .. tore..

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Though Hemingway describes physical activity and the outdoor world, for him the real battle ground Is Inward. This is quite true, and to bring home to the reader the innermost psychological world of his characters Hemingway makes the reader share his charactet's expe· rience. "I want to convey the experience to the reader" (Hemingway), so the reader becomes a participant of the events described by the au· thor. Hemingway's wonderful mastery of the language permits him to convey the experience to the reader, the author proved capable "of getting below the skin and rresenting the universal underlying truth."

Hence in the works 0 Hemingway it is the implication that counts, the "submerged part of the iceberg", the unspoken reference due to which a briefly sketched natural description is charged with mood and emotional atmosphere.

Note such distinguishing features of Hemingway's style as the masterful use of "relevant detail", as essential detail that suggests the whole, and the use of a relevant detail both as fact and as symbol.

Analysing the story proceed from Hemingway's principle (cited above) and try to perceive the "submerged parts of the iceberg", I.e. the unspoken reference.


I. Comment on the following assertions of Hemingway's"Prose is arch itecture not interior decoration."; "The sym: bol should partake of reality."

2. Discuss Hemingway's reply to the critics who found his stories symbolic: "I tried to make a real old man, a real boy, a real sea, a real fish and real sharks, but if I made them good and true enough they' would mean many things." Express your own opinion on the subject.

3. What means does the author use to give the reader an insight into his characters and what is the role of impli· cation both in the description of the characters and in the dialogues between them?

4. Speak on the characters of the American girl and her husband and the EMs and SDs used by the author to show their attitude towards each other (the relations between them).

5. Speak on the role of the hotel owner in the story and the devices used by Hemingway to describe him. Note the attitude of the American girl to the hotel owner and speak on the stylistic role of the word "small" in the macrocontext of the story: "The padrone made her feel very small ... ".

6. State what EMs and SDs are used in the dialogue between the American girl and the maid and speak on the effect achieved by them (note the use of barbarisms in the dialogue).

7. Dwell on the effect of implication achieved by the

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words "silver", "candles", "kitty" used in the macrocontext of the story.

8. What is implied in the words of the American girl: "I want to pull my hair back ... "?

9. Point out cases of repetition used in the story both as an expressive means and stylistic device and state what effect is achieved by this.

10. Discuss the title of the story and in so doing speak of the stylistic use of the word "cat" in the story.

It. Summing up your impressions of the story speak of the mood created by the apt use of EMs and SDs and the effect ach ieved by them.

B. INDEPENDENT STYLISTIC ANALYSIS

CHARLES DICKENS A CHILD'S HISTORY OF ENGLAND

Chapter X XXV

ENGLAND UNDER CHARLES THE SECOND CALLED THE MERRY MoNARCH

There never were such profligate times in England as under Charles the Second. Whenever you see his portrait, with his swarthy, ill-looking face and great nose, you may fancy him in his Court at Whitehall, surrounded by some of the very worst vagabonds in the kingdom (though they were lords and ladies), drinking, gambling, indulging in vicious conversation, and committing every kind of profligate excess. It has been a fashion to call Charles the Second "The Merry Monarch." Let me try to give you a general idea of some of the merry things that were done, in the merry days when this merry gentleman sat upon his merry throne, in merry England.

The first merry proceeding was-of course-to declare that he was one of the greatest, the wisest, and the noblest kings that ever shone, like the blessed sun itself, on this benighted earth. The next merry and pleasant piece of business was, for the Parliament, in the humblest manner, to give him one million two hundred thousand pounds a year, and to settle upon him for life that old disputed tonnage and poundage which had been so bravely fought for. Then, General' Monk, being made Earl of Albermarle, and a few other royalists similarly rewarded, the law went to work to

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see what was to be done to those persons (they were called Regicides) who had been concerned in making a martyr of the late king. Ten of these were merrily execut~d; that is to say, six of the judges, one of the council, Colonel Hacker and another officer who had commanded the Guards, and Hugh Peters, a preacher who had preached against the martyr with all his heart. These executions were so extremely merry, that every horrible circumstance which Cromwell had abandoned was revived with appalling cruelty.

. . That the Merry Monarch might be very merry, indeed,

in the merry times when his people were suffering under pestilence and fire, he drank and gambled and flung away among his favourites the money which the Parliament had voted for the war. The consequence of this was, that the stout-hearted English sailors were merrily starving of want, and dying in the streets; while the Dutch, under their admirals, came into the river Thames, and up the river Medway as far as Upnor, burned the guard-ships, silenced the weak batteries, and did what they would to the English coast for six whole weeks. Most of the English ships that could have prevented them had neither powder nor shot on board; in this merry reign, public officers made themselves as merry as the king did with the public money; and when it was intrusted to them to spend in national defences or preparations, they put it into their own pockets with the merriest grace in the world.


I. Read the passage and be ready to speak on the time and the king.

2. Discuss SDs used by the author to describe the "merry reign" of Charles II: 1) speak on the functions of repetition; 2) analyse the various combinations with the word "merry" and speak on their stylistic functions; 3) comment on the simile in the second paragraph ("like the blessed sun itself on this benighted earth "); 4) discuss the role of epithets and oxymorons.

3. How is Dickens' attitude towards Charles I I revealed through the SDs he employs.

-t Summing up the analysis speak on the predominant SD employed by Dickens to expose the "Merry Monarch" and his reign.

&~

WILLIAM THACKERAY VANITY FAIR

Part I. Chapter IX FAMILY PORTR~ITS

This passage describes the family of the rich, ignorant and rude landlord Sir Pitt Crawley in whose house Becky Sharp finds herself as a governess.

Sir Pitt Crawley was a philosopher with a taste for what is called low life. His first marriage with the daughter of the noble Binkie had been made under the auspices of his parents; and as he often told Lady Crawley in her life time she was such a confounded quarrelsome highbred jade that when she died he was hanged if he would ever take another of her sort, at her ladyship's demise he kept his promise, and selected for a second wife Miss Rose Dawson, daughter of Mr. John Thomas Dawson, ironmonger, of Mudbury. What a happy woman was Rose to be my Lady Crawleyl

Let us set down the items of her happiness. In the first place, she gave up Peter Butt, a young man who kept company with her, and in consequence of his disappointment in love took to smuggling, poaching, and a thousand other bad courses. Then she quarrelled, as in duty bound, with all the friends and intimates of her youth, who, of course, could not be received by my Lady at Queen's Crawley-nor did she find in her new rank and abode any persons who were willing to welcome her. Who ever did? Sir Huddleston Fuddleston had three daughters who all hoped to be Lady Crawley. Sir Giles Wapshot's family were insulted that one of the Wapshot girls had not the preference in the marriage, and the remaining baronets of the county were indignant at their comrade's misalliance. Never mind the commoners, whom we will leave to grumble anonymously.

Sir Pitt did not care, as he said, a brass farden for any one of them. He had his pretty Rose, and what more need a man require than to please himself? So he used to get drunk every night; to beat his pretty Rose sometimes; to leave her in Hampshire when he went to London for the parliamentary session, without a single friend in the wide world. Even Mrs. Bute Crawley, the rector's wife, refused to visit her, as she said shewould newr give the pas to a tradesman's daughter.

As the only endowments with which Naturt had gifted Lady Crawley were those of pink cheeks and a white skin, and as she had no sort of character, nor talents, nor opin-

106

ions, nor occupations, nor amusements, nor that vigor of soul and ferocity of temper which often falls to the lot of entirely foolish women, her hold upon Sir Pitt's affections was not very great. Her roses faded out of her cheeks, and the pretty freshness left her figure after the birth of a couple of children, and she became a mere machine in her husband's house of no more use than the late Lady Crawley's grand piano. Being a light-complexioned woman, she wore light clothes, as most blondes will, and appeared, in preference, in draggled sea green or slatternly sky-blue. She worked that worsted day and night, or other pieces like it. She had counterpanes in the course of a few years to all the beds in Crawley. She had a small flower-garden, for which she had rather an affection; but beyond this no other like or disliking. When her husband was rude to her she was apathetic; whenever he struck her she cried. She had not character enough to take to drinking, and moaned about, slipshod and in curl-papers all day. 0 Vanity Fair! Vanity Fair! This might have been, but for you, a cheery lass -Peter Butt and Rose a happy man and wife, in a snug farm, with a hearty family; and an honest portion of pleasures, cares, hopes, and struggles. But a title and a coach and four are toys more precious than happiness in Vanity Fair; and if Harry the Eighth or Bluebeard were alive now, and wanted a tenth wife, do you suppose he could not get the prettiest girl that shall be presented this season?

The languid dullness of their mamma did not, as it may be supposed, awaken much affection in her little daughters, but they were very happy in the servants' hall and in the stables; and the Scotch gardener having luckily a good wife and some good children, they got a little wholesome society and instruction in his lodge, which was the only education bestowed upon them until Miss Sharp came.

Vanity Fair! Vanity Fair! Here was a man, who could not spell, and did not care to read-who had the habits and the cunning of a boor; whose aim in life was pettifogging; who never had a taste, or emotion, or enjoyment. but what was sordid and foul; and yet he had rank, and honours, and power, somehow; and was a dignitary of the land, and a pillar of the state. He was high sheriff, and rode in a golden coach. Great ministers and statesmen courted him; and in Vanity Fair he had a higher place than the most brilliant genius of spotless virtue.

105


I. What characters of the novel are described in the passage and what does the reader learn about them?

2. What does the word "philosopher" suggest in this context? Identify the SO.

3. How do you account for the sudden transmission from literary vocabulary mostly used by the author ("under the auspices", etc.) to the colloquial words ("a confounded quarrelsome highbred jade")? What stylistic effect is achieved by this device?

4. Comment on the exclamatory sentence "what a happy woman was Rose to be my Lady Crawleyl" and say what is the main SO used to characterize "the items of her happiness" .

5. Comment on the stylistic effect of the rhetorical question: "He had his pretty Rose, and what more need a man require than to please himself?"

6. Analyse the manner the author describes "the endowments with which Nature had gifted Lady Crawley". What EMs and SOs stress the emptiness of Lady Crawley's life?

7. Pick out the SDs used- to characterize Lady Crawley's position in her husband's house.

8. Comment on the two passages beginning with the rhetorical exclamation "0 Vanity Fair! Vanity Fairl. .. " and speak on the author's attitude towards the society he describes. Pay attention to the EMs and SOs employed by the author (note the vocabulary of the passage, metaphors, metonymies, allusions, rhetorical questions and their stylistic function).

9. Summing up the analysis of the chapter pick out all passages where the author's ironic or sarcastic attitude towards high society and its corrupt morality is acutely felt and analyse the main SOs used to achieve this effect.

ALDOUS HUXLEY POINT COUNTER POINT

Chapter XIX

The chapter deals with the description of a small boy, Phil, and his governess, Miss Fulkes who is responsible for the child in his paren ts' absence.

Little Phil was lying on his bed. The room was in an orange twiIigh t. A th in needle of sunsh ine came probing in between the drawn curtains. Phil was more than usually restless.

106

"What's the time?" he shouted at last, though he had shouted before and been told to keep quiet.

"Not time for you to get up," Miss Fulkes caUed back from across the passage. Her voice came muffled, for she was half-way into her blue frock, her head involved in silken darkness, her arms struggling blindly to find the entrance to their respective sleeves. Phil's parents were arriving to-day; they would be at Gattenden for lunch. Miss Fulkes's blue best was imperatively called for.

"But what's the time?" the child shouted back angrily. "On your watch, 1 mean."

Miss Fulkes's head came through into the light. "Twenty to one," she called back. "You must be quiet."

"Why isn't it one?" "Because it isn't. Now 1 shan't answer you any more.

And if you shout again 1 shall tell your mother how naughty you've been."

"Naughtyl" Phil retorted, putting a tearful fury into h is voice-but so softly that Miss Fulkes hardly heard him. "[ hate youl" He didn't, of course. But he had made his protest; honour was saved.

Miss Fulkes went on with her toilet. She felt agitated, afraid, painfully excited. What would they think of PhiJher Phil, the Phil she had made. "1 hope he'll be good," she thought. "I hope he'll be 'good." He could be an angel, so enchanting when he chose. And when he wasn't an angel, there was always a reason; but one had to know him, one had to understand him in order to see the reason. Probably they wouldn't be able to see the reason. They had been away so long; they might have forgotten what he was like. And in any case, they couldn't know what he was like now, what he had grown into during these last months. She alone knew that Phil. Knew him and loved him-so much, so much. She alone. And one day she would have to leave him. She had no rights over him, no claim to him; she only loved him. They could take him away from her whenever they wanted. The image of herself in the glass wavered and was lost in a rainbow fog, and suddenly the tears overflowed onto her cheeks.

. . . . Miss Fulkes and liCtle Phil were waiting on the steps.

"I believe 1 hear the car," said Miss Fulkes. Her rather lumpy face was very pale; her heart was beating with more than ordinary force. "No," she added, after a moment of intent

107

listening. What she had heard was anI y the sound of her own anxiety.

Little Phil moved about uncomfortably, conscious only of a violent desire to "go somewhere". Anticipation had lodged a hedgehog in his entrails .•

"Aren't you happy?" asked Miss Fulkes, with assumed enthusiasm, self-sacrificingly determined that the child should show himself wild with joy to see his parents again. "Aren't you tremendously excited?" But they could take him away from her if they wanted to, take him away and never let her see him again.

"Yes," little Phil replied rather vaguely. He was preoccupied exclusively with the approach of visceral events.

Miss Fulkes was disappointed by the flatness of his tone. She looked at him enquiringly. "Phil?" She had noticed his uneasy Charleston. The child nodded. She took his hand and hurried him into the house.

A minute later Philip and Elinor drove up to a deserted porch. Elinor couldn't help feeling disappointed. She had so clearly visualized the scene-Phil on the steps frantically waving-she had so plainly, in. anticipation, heard his shouting. And the steps were a blank.

"Nobody to meet us," she said, and her tone was mournful. "You could hardly expect them to hang about, waiting,"

Philip replied. He hated anything in the nature of a fuss. For him, the perfect home-coming would have been in a cloak of invisibility. This was a good second best.

They got out of the car. The front door was open. They entered. In the silent, empty hall three and a half centuries of life had gone to sleep. The sunlight stared through flatarched windows. The panelling had been painted pale green in the Eighteenth Century. All ancient oak and high-lights. the staircase climbed up, out of sight, toward the higher floors. A smell of potpourri faintly haunted the air; it was as though one apprehended the serene old silence through another sense.

Elinor looked round her, she took a deep breath, she drew her finger tips along the polished walnut wood of a table. with the knuckle of a bent forefinger she rapped the round Venetian bowl that stood on it; the glassy bell note lingered sweetly on the perfumed silence.

"Like the Sleeping Beauty," she said. But even as she spoke the words, the spell was broken. Suddenly, as though the ringing glass had called the house back to life, there

108

was sound and movement. Somewhere upstairs a door opened, through the sanitary noise of rushing waterj came the sound of Phil's piercing young voice; small feet ,thudded along the carpet of the corridor, clattered like little hoofs on the naked oak of the stairs. At the same moment a door on the ground floor flew open and the enormous form of Dobbs, the parlour maid. hastened into the hall.

"Why, Miss Elinor, 1 never heard you ... " Little Phil rounded the last turn of the staircase. At the

sight of his parents he gave a shout, he quickened his pace; he almost slid from step to step.

"Not so fast, not so fastl" his mother called anxiously, and ran toward him.

"Not so fast!" echoed Miss Fulkes, hurrying down the stairs behind.

. . . Miss Fulkes writhed with shyness and excitement, stood

first on one leg and then on the other, went into the attitudes of fashion plates and mannequins, and from time to time piercingly laughed. When she shook hands with Philip, she writhed so violently that she almost lost her balance.

"Poor creaturel" Elinor had time to think between the answering and asking of questions. "How urgently she needs marryingl Much worse than when we left."

"But how he's grownl" she said aloud. "And how he's changedl" She held the child at arm's length with the gesture of a connoisseur who stands back to examine a picture. "He used to be the image of Phil. But now ... "

"What have you brought me?" asked little Phil almost anxiously. When people went away and came back again, they always brought him something. "Where's my present?"

"What a questionl" Miss Fulkes protested, blushing with vicarious shame and writhing.

"I call that cupboard love," Miss Fulkes was still going on.

Elinor gave a little sigh, shook herself out of her reverie, and, picking up the child in her arms, pressed him against her. "Never mind," she said, half to the reproving Miss Fulkes, half to her own apprehensive self. "Never mind." She kissed him.

Philip was looking at his watch. "Perhaps we ought to go and wash and brush up a bit before lunch," he said. He had the sentiment of punctuality.

"But first," said Elinor, to whom it seemed that meals

109

were made for man, not man for meals, "first we simply must run into the kitchen and say how do you do to Mrs Inman. It would be unforgivable if we didn't. Come." Still carrying the child, she led the way through the dining room. The smell of roast duck grew stronger a;Jd stronger as they advanced.

Fretted a little by his consciousness of unpunctuality, and a little uneasy at having to risk himself, even with Elinor for dragoman, in the kitchen among the servants, Philip reluctantly followed her.

At luncheon, little Phil celebrated the occasion by behaving atrociously.

"The excitement has been too much for him," poor Miss Fulkes kept repeating, trying to excuse the child and indirectly to justify herself. She would have liked to cry. "You'll see when he's got used to your being here, Mrs Quarles," she said, turning to Elinor. "You'll see: he can be such an angel. It's the excitement."

She had come to love the child so much that his triumphs and humiliations, his virtues and his crimes made her exult or mourn, feel self-satisfaction Dr shame, as if they had been her own. Besides, there was her professional pride. She had been alone responsible for him all these months, teaching him the social virtues and why the triangle of India is painted crimson on the map; she had made him, had moulded him. And now, when this object of tenderest love, this product of her skiII and patience, screamed at table, spat out mouthfuls of half-masticated food, and spilt the water, Miss Fulkes not only blushed with agonizing shame. as though it were she who had screamed. had spat, had spilled, but experienced at the same time all the humiliation of the conjuror whose long-prepared trick fails to come off in public, the inventor of the ideal flying machine which simply refuses to leave the ground.

"After all," said Elinor, consolingly. "it·s only to be expected." She felt genuinely sorry for the poor girl. She looked at the child. He was crying-and she had expected (how unreasonably!) that it would be quite different now, that she would find him entirely rational and grown up. Her heart sank. She loved him, but children were terrible, terrible. And he was still a child. "Now, Phil." she said severely, "you must eat. No more nonsense."

The cHild howled louder. He would have liked to behave well, but he did not know how to stop behaving badly. He

110

had voluntarily worked up this mood of rebellious misery within himself; but now the emotion was his master and stronger than his wiIl. It was impossible for him, even though he desired it, to return by the way he had come. Be· sides, he had always rather disliked roast duck; and having now, for five minutes, thought of roast duck with concen· trated disgust and horror, he loathed it. The sigh t, the smell, the taste of it really and genuinely made him sick.


1. Read the passage and be ready to discuss the chara· cters introduced in it: Miss Fulkes, Little Phil, Elinor, Philip.

2. Say how Miss Fulkes' feelings are described through the SO of represented speech.

3. Note the way the author combines direct speech and represented speech to reveal the attitude of Miss Fulkes to her pupil. Pick out instances when such combinations are used and comment on them.

4. Say what EMs and SOs are used to describe Miss Fulkes in a humorous way.

5. Speak on the connotation of the expression "cupboard love" and say why Miss Fulkes was indignant at Phil's question? .

6. Say through what SOs the author describes Phil's state at luncheon .

. 7. Comment on the sentence "At luncheon, little Phil celebrated the occasion by behaving atrociously."

8. Say what SOs are used to describe Miss Fulkes' state at luncheon.

9. Find the cases of periphrasis (logical, euphemistic, figurative). Speak on their nature and their main function.

10. Comment on the SO used in the following sentence: "Anticipation had lodged a hedgehog in his (Phil's) en· trails" and say what effect is achieved through this device.

11. Summing up your impressions of the passage speak on: a) the main SOs employed to describe Phil and Miss Fulkes; b) the SOs used to achieve a humorous effect.

WILLIAM SOMERSET MAUGHAM

THE RAZOR'S EDGE

Chapter V . The passage presents a conversation between the auth,'1 of the

novel, Isabel, a rich young woman, and Larry, a young man, who was once engaged to Isabel; the girl broke the engagement as Larry did not share her idea of bourgeois prosperity.

Larry listened to what Isabel said, but made no comment. His face was inscrutable. "What happened then?" I asked. "One night they were driving back to Chicago in a little

open car they had and they had the baby with them. "They always had the baby along because they hadn"t

any help, Sophie did everything herself, and anyway they worshipped it.

"And a bunch of drunks in a great sedan driving at eighty miles an hour crashed into them head on. Bob and the baby were killed outright, but Sophie only had concussion and a rib or two broken. They kept it from her as long as they could that Bob and the baby_ were dead, but at last they had to tell her. They say it was awful. She nearly went crazy ... "

"Poor thing." "When they let her go she started to drink... It was

terrible for her in-laws. They're very nice quiet people and they hated the scandal... Then her in-laws said they'd make her an allowance if she'd go and live abroad."

"I suppose that's what she's living on now." "The wheel comes full circle," I remarked. "There was a time when the black sheep of the family

was sent from my country to America; now apparently he's sent from your country to Europe."

"Can't you?" said Isabel coolly. "I can. Of course it was a shock and no one could have sympathized with Sophie more than I did. We'd known one another always. But a normal person recovers from a thing like that. If she went to pieces it's because there was a rotten streak in her. She was naturally unbalanced; even her love for Bob was exag· gerated. If she'd had character she'd have been able to make something of life."

"If pots and pans ... Aren't you very hard, Isabel?" I murmured.

"I aon't think so. I have common sense and I see no reason to be sentimental about Sophie."

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... It was not the occasion for me to point out to Isabel that her love for her husband and her children, though sincere enough, was scarcely passionate. Perhaps she n:;ad the thought that was passing through my mind, for she addressed me somewhat truCUlently.

"What have you got to say?" "I'm like Gray, I'm sorry for the girl." "She's not a girl, she's thirty." "I suppose it was the end of the world for her when her

husband and her baby were killed. I suppose she didn't care what became of her and flung herself into the horrible degradation of drink to get even with life that had treated her so cruelly. She'd lived in heaven and when she lost it she couldn't put up with the common earth of common men, but in despair plunged headlong into hell. I can imagine that if she couldn't drink the nectar of the gods any more she thought she might as well drink bathroom gin."

"That's the sort of thing you say in novels. It's nonsense and you know it's nonsense. Sophie wallows in the gutter because she likes it. Other women have lost their husbands and children. It wasn't that that made her evil. Evil doesn't spring from good. The evil was there always. When that motor accident broke her defences it set her free to be herself. Don't waste your pity on her; she's now what at heart she always was."

All this time Larry had remained silent. He seemed to be in a brown study and I thought he hardly heard what we were saying. Isabel's words were followed by a brief silence. He began to speak, but in a strange, toneless voice, as though not to us, but to himself; his eyes seemed to look into the dim distance of past time.

"I remember her when she was fourteen with her long hair brushed back off her forehead and a black bow at the back, with her freckled, serious face. She was a modest, high-minded, idealistic child. She read everything she could get hold of and we used to talk about books."

"When?" asked Isabel, with a slight frown. "Oh, when you were out being social with your mother.

I used to go up to her grandfather's and we'd sit under a great elm they had there-and read to one another. She loved poetry and wrote quite a lot herself."

"Plenty of girls do that at that age. It's pretty poor stuff." 8-2896 lIS

"Of course it's a long time ago and I daresay I wasn't a very good judge."

"You couldn't have been more than sixteen yourself." "Of course it was imitative. There was a lot of Robert

Frost in it. But I have a notion it was rather remarkable for so young a girl. She had a delicaie ear and a sense of rhythm. She had a feeling for the sounds and scents of the country, the first softness of spring in the air and the smell of the parched earth after rain."

.. I never knew she wrote poetry," said Isabel. "She kept it a secret, she was afraid you'd all laugh at

her. She was very shy." "She's not that now." "When I came back from the war she was almost grown

up. She'd read a lot about the condition of the working classes and she'd seen something of it for herself in Chicago. She'd got on to Carl Sandburg and was writing savagely in free verse about the misery of the poor and the exploitation of the working classes. I daresay it was rather commonplace, but it was sincere and it had pity in it and aspiration. At that time she wanted to become a social worker. It was moving, her desire for sacrifice. I think she was capable of a great deal. She wasn't silly or mawkish, but she gave one the impression of a lovely purity and a strange loftiness of soul. We saw a lot of one another that year."

I could see that Isabel listened to him with growing exasperation. Larry had no notion that he was driving a dagger in her heart and with his every detached word twisting it in the wound. But when she spoke it was with a faint smile on her lips.

"How did she come to choose you for her confidant?" Larry looked at her with his trustfu I eyes. "I don't know. She was a poor girl among all of you who

had plenty of dough, and I didn't belong. I was there just because Uncle Bob practiced at Marvin. I suppose she felt th at gave us someth ing in common."

Larry had no relations. Most of us have at least cousins whom we may hardly know, but who at least give us a sense that we are part of the human family. Larry's father had been an only son, his mother an only daughter; his grandfather on one side, the Quaker, had been lost at sea when still a young man and his grandfather on the other side had neither brother nor sister. No one could be more alone in the world than Larry.

114

"Did it ever occur to you that Sophie was in love with you?" asked Isabel.

"Never," he smiled. "Well, she was." "When he came back from the war as a wounded hero

half the girls in Chicago had a crush on Larry," said Gray in his bluff way.

"This was more than a crush. She worshipped you, my poor Larry. D'you mean to say you didn't know it?"

"I certainly didn't and I don't believe it." "I suppose you thought she was too high-minded." "I can still see that skinny little girl with the bow in

her hair and her serious face whose voice trembled with tears when she read that ode of Keats' because it was so beautiful. I wonder where she is now."

Isabel gave a very slight start and threw him a suspicious enquiring glance.

"It's getting frightfully late and I'm so tired I don't know what to do. Let's go."

Assignments for Stylistic Analysis 1. Speak on the scene described in the passage and the

characters introduced in it. 2. Give a rigorous analysis of the passage and in so do

ing dwell on the language of the characters (the Author, Isabel, Larry). Note the choice of words and the use of EMs and SOs.

3. Say how the insight into the characters is given through their speech.

4. Pick out the EMs and SOs used to describe Larry and speak on the effect achieved.

5. Discuss the character of Sophie commenting on the different interpretation of her behaviour given by the author, Isabel, Larry. (Pick out the EMs and SOs used and dwell on their effect.)

6. Comment on the SO used in the following sentence: "Larry had no notion that he was driving a dagger in her heart and with his every detached word twisting it in the wound" and speak on the effect of implication.

7 .. Say what is implied in the follOWing sentences: "The wheel comes full circle."; "If pots and pans ... "

8. Say what you think of Isabel's attitude to Larry and point out the EMs and SOs employed by the author to make this attitude clear to the reader. 8· 115

9. Pick out cases of colloquialisms and slang and give their neutral equivalents.

10; Summing up your discussion of the passage speak on the use of oral and written types of speech as a means which gives an insight into the characters.

F. SCOTT FITZGERALD THE GREAT GATSBY

The passage deals with the description of the major characters of the novel and American society after World War I.

He did extraordinarily well in the war. He was a captain before he went to the front, and following the Argonne battles he got his majority and the command of the divisional machine-guns. After the Armistice he tried frantically to get home, but some complication or misunderstanding sent him to Oxford instead. He was worried now-there was a quality of nervous despair in Daisy's letters. She didn't see why he couldn't come. She was feeling the pressure of the world outside, and she wanted to see him and feel his presence beside her and be reassured that she was doing the right thing after all.

For Daisy was young and her artificial world was redolent of orchids and pleasant, cheerful snobbery and orchestras which set the rhythm of the year, summing up the sadness and suggestiveness of life in new tunes. AlI night the saxophones wailed the hopeless comment of the "Beale Street Blues" while a hundred pairs of golden and silver slippers shuffled the shining dust. At the gray tea hour there were always rooms that throbbed incessantly with this low, sweet fever, while fresh faces drifted here and there like rose petals blown by the sad horns around the floor.

Through this twilight universe Daisy began to move again with the season; suddenly she was again keeping half a dozen dates a day with half a dozen men, and drowsing asleep at dawn with the beads and chiffon of an evening dress tangled among dying orchids on the floor beside her bed. And all the time something within her was crying for a decision. She wanted her life shaped now, immediately -and the decision must be made by some force-of love, of money, of unquestionable practicality-that was close at hand.

That· force took shape in the middle of spring with the arrival of Tom Buchanan. There was a wholesome bulkiness

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about his person and his position, and Daisy was flattered. Doubtless there was a certain struggle and a certain relief. The letter reached Gatsby while he was still at Oxford.


t. Speak on the subject-matter of the passage. 2. What SDs are used in the first paragraph to show the

mood of the characters after World War I? 3. Analyse the stylistic peculiarities (syntactical and pho

netic) in the sentence "She was feeling the pressure of the world outside, and she wanted to see him and feel his presence beside her and be reassured that she was doing the righ t th ing after all."

4. What EMs and SDs stress the contradictory character of bourgeois society? (Pick out epithets, contextual antonyms, oxymoronic combinations, etc.)

5. Analyse the SDs of zeugma in the sentence "There was a wholesome bulkiness about his person and his position", and say how it reveals the author's attitude to Tom Buchanan.

6. Analyse the last two paragraphs of the passage. Comment on the implication suggested by a kind of antithesis "Doubtless there was a certain- struggle and a certain relief", and the unpredictability of the clinching sentence.

7. Summing up the analysis discuss the SDs used to describe Daisy's "artificial world".

JAMES ALDRIDGE

THE HUNTER

In the passage the author describes Roy's (the hunter's) visit to his native place.

Roy knew about the debts: but farmers were expected to have debts. Farming was always a compromise between keeping what you could and paying what you could, cursing the high interest ra~ and the government tax, and the Land Banks that kept you poor. Even so, he knew that Sam should have been better off, better off than a man who had to sell his last pig. There was probably no other time in the

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long farming record of the MacNairs that anyone of them had sold his last pig to get cash for tea and sugar. That was the act of a broken man.

"I know these back woods farms are all right for working your own living," Sam went on. ~You can get the bare existence out of them; your own butter and milk and corn; but that's not enough for a man and his family, Roy. That's not enough. II

"I thought prices were still pretty good," Roy said. "They've been good since the war, but what's the use

of good prices if everything else goes up with it. Anyway, I had a green crop of wheat, and no fodder. The land lay rotten all summer and I had to leave half the hay on the ground. "

Roy still could not see it. "If the land is so dirty why didn't you sow some peas or root crops in the spring."

"The land's not dirty," Sam said. "It's sodden." "What's the matter with the drainage?" "You know only the front field is tilled. They're caving

in. " "Couldn't you get a hemJock scoop, or run some c1ear

ing-up-furrows. " "I've only got one pair of hands," Sam said. "That's

why you ought to stay. We could set the draining of the four-acre, we could log out the forty-four field and get in some red clover and maybe some Indian corn and potatoes. I just need an extra hand, Roy, and I can't afford to hire one."

"I though t you'd cleaned the forty-four last summer." Ruth MacNair sat down at the end of the table, a lost

woman with long breasts and contemptuous eyes. "He was too busy hiring out the team," she said, "and spending the money on God knows what. He just lay around all summer watching everyone else work."

Sam did not argue with his wife, and Roy knew that the implication of laziness could not be true. Sam's fault lay in his inability to realize that farming was all planning; never anything else but planning; never buying more seed than you could make money on, never sowing more than you could crop, never selling so much that you left your own cattle and family short. Sam didn't have the mind nor the inclination for it. If he had been slack in the sunvner it was tess a matter of laziness than of hopelessness.

"What about the team? How are they working?" Roy

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had a particular interest in this subject because he had bough t the two Clydesdales for h is brother, bough t them two years ago out of six months' trapping money. But even here Sam had not known how to look after them.

"I sold the team, n Sam said, and looked at Roy for the first time.

"Goddam it, Sam," Roy cried fiercely. "That was the best team in Saint Helen."

Sam tried to say something more, but he couldn't manage it.

Roy regretted his outburst. His anger and his surprise passed with the additional effort of keeping h is tongue between his teeth. He felt sorry for his brother and bitterly disappointed and frustrated that this decay was taking place before his eyes, a decay not only of his brother, but of this house and this home.

"How will you get on without a team?" Roy said unhappily.

"I won't get on, unless you give me a hand. That's what I'm telling you, Roy." There was a tepid threat in Sam's dead voice; but Roy would not commit himself; he could not even see this as a real situation. Sam was low and sour, and in a way it was not really Sam at all.

"What if I ask Jack Burton to give you a hand?" Roy told him. "Jack wiII do what" he can ... "

"He's got his own hands full," Sam said. "We won't have him over here," Ruth MacNair put in.

"He's a hog-swiller and a bush-rat; a hired man." "He's ;\ good farmer, Ruth," Roy said. "He'll never be anything more than a jack-about to me,

and I won't have his kind helping here, unless we can pay him hired-man's money. That's all he is and all he ever will be."

Roy heard her out, knowing she despised Jack as a farmer's daughter could despise the son of a labourer. Jack's father had worked ten years for old Bob Moody-Ruth's father. Now there was none of her family left on the land, whereas Jack had a small rackish farm of his own and was doing well. He had even acquired two acres of Moody land when the old man had been forced to sell up, ruined by the Land Banks, and broken by the continual bickering and arguing and coarsening of his own children, Ruth among them. Roy had always known that she had brought her evil with her into this house, gradually enveloping the quiet

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Sam in her provocation and her pettiness; never giving him the sanity of easy words, of gentle habit, of physical cooperation. She had contributed so much to the spectacle of Sam as he was that Roy could hardly separate the two, except that Sam was now worn o\.1t and hardly ever spoke to his wife, whereas Ruth was still exercisin~ her talents for viciousness. Poor old Sam, Roy thought. All he had ever needed was a calm woman who would keep him at peace and give him respect. All he had achieved was an animal who would keep him at bay, a woman who would hunt for every word to catch and twist in vulgar dispute. More than anything else, her primeval vulgarity had degraded Sam to his present state.


1. Speak on the scene and the characters introduced in the excerpt and SOs used to describe them.

2. Analyse direct speech and speak on its peculiarities. 3. Find various forms of repetition in the author's nar

ration: the repetition of a sQ\md (alliteration); of a conjunction (polysyndeton); of a notional word; of a syntactical pattern (parallelism) and speak on the role of repetition in the structure of a paragraph.

4. Analyse the SO of repetition from the point of view of its compositional design (anaphora, anadiplosis etc.); note what kind of repetition prevails in the excerpt; speak on the stylistic functions of repetition.

5. Take the last paragraph for rigorous analysis; in doing so dwell on the following poin ts: I) the main though t of the paragraph and the way it is developed; 2) the SO of polysyndeton; 3) the metaphor, the way it is prolonged and the stylistic effect achieved; 4) represented speech, its type and stylistic function; 5) antithesis as the culmination point of the paragraph.

6. Summing up the analysis of the passage speak on various SOs used to d~scribe Sam's state of hopelessness and frustration.

PAR T III

DRAMA

A. PATTERN STYLISTIC ANALYSIS WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING Act I, Scene I

Be a t ric e: I wonder that you will still be talking, Signior Benedick: nobody marks you.

Ben e die k: What, my dear Lady Disdain! are you yet living?

Be a t ric e: Is it possible disdain should die while she hath such meet food to feed it, as Signior Benedick? Courtesy itself must convert to disdain, if you come in her presence.

Ben e die k: Then is courtesy a turncoat. But it is certain I am loved of all ladies, only you excepted: and I would I could find in my heart that I had not a hard heart; for, truly, I love none.

B eat ric e: A dear happiness to women: they would else have been troubled with a pernicious suitor. I thank God and my cold blood, I am of your humour for that: I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow than a man swear he loves me.

Ben e die k: God keep your ladyship still in that mind! so some gentleman or other shall 'scape a predestinate scratched face.

B eat ric e: Scratching could not make it worse, an 'twere such a face as yours were.

Ben e die k: Well, you are a rare parrot-teacher. B eat ric e: A bird of my tongue is better than a beast

of yours. • Ben e die k: I would my horse had the speed of your

tongue, and so good a continuer. But keep your way, i' God's name; I have done.

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B eat ric e: You always end with a jade's trick: I know you of old.

Benedick and Claudio

C I a u d i 0: Benedick, didst thou note the daughter of Signior Leonato?

Ben e d i c k: I noted her not; but I looked on her. C I a u d i 0: Is she not a modest young lady? Ben e d i c k: Do you question me; as an honest man

should do, for my simple true judgement? or would you have me speak after my custom, as being a professed tyrant to their sex?

C I a u d i 0: No. I pray thee speak in sober judgement. Ben e d i c k: Why, i' faith, methinks she's too low

for a high praise, too brown for a fair praise, and too little for a great praise: only this commendation I can afford her, that were she other than she is, she were unhandsome; and being no other bu t as she is, I do not like her.

C I au d i 0: Thou thinkest I am in sport: I pray thee tell me truly how thou likest her.

Ben e d i c k: Would you buy her, that you inquire after her?

C I a u d i 0: Can the world buy such a jewel? Ben e d i c k: Yea, and a case to put it into. But speak

you this with a sad brow? or do you play the flouting Jack, to tell us Cupid is a good hare-finder, and Vulcan a rare carpenter? Come, in what key shall a man take you, to go in the song?

C I a u d i 0: In mine eye she is the sweetest lady that ever I looked on.

Ben e d i c k: I can see yet without spectacles, and I see no such matter: there's her cousin, an she were not possessed with a fury, exceeds her as much in beauty as the first of May doth the last of December. But I hope you have no intent to turn husband, have you?

C I au d i 0: I would scarce trust myself, though I had sworn the contrary, if Hero would be my wife.

Ben e d i c k: Is't come to this? In faith, hath not the world one man but he will wear his cap with suspicion? Shall I never see a bachelor of threescore again? Go to, i' faith; an thou wilt needs thrust thy neck into a yoke, wear the print of it, and sigh away Sundays. Look: Don Pedro is returned to seek you.

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Stylistic Analysis

Beatrice and Benedick seemingly cannot stand eal:h other, whenever they meet they start arguing challenging each other to a verbal competition. We have a suspicion from the first that they are in love with each other because of the pride each takes in scorning and defying the other. It is but natural that Benedick addressing Beatrice calls her "Lady Disdain". This SD is that of antonomasia. The proper name is substituted by a common noun which stands in certain relations to the name. Beatrice in her reply to Benedick treats the word "disdain" as a living being ascribing to it human qualities. Hence here we have the SD of personification. "Is it possible disdain should die while she hath such meet food to feed it, as Signior Benedick?"

Benedick in his tum takes revenge on Beatrice saying that Beatrice's decision to remain unmarried (single) will be most beneficial for some gentleman "So some gentleman or other shall 'scape a predestinate scratched face". Benedick uses periphrasis "a predestinate scratched face" which stands for fighting which Beatrice's future husband will undoubtedly have with her.

Beatrice has a sharp tongue and she displays her wit without sparing Benedick's feelings, thus she expresses an idea that no scratching could make his face worse than it is: "Scratching could not make it (the face) worse". By this periphrasis Beatrice wants to bring home to Benedick that he is ugly.

Beatrice's speech is emotional and abounds in EMs and SDs. Besides the above mentioned periphrases she uses similes to show her attitude towards men in general and Benedick in particular: "I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow than a man swear he loves me.", "A bird of my tongue is better than a beast of yours" (Benedick's).

Benedick however is a match to Beatrice in dispute, he replies in a humorous way to her attack saying that he wished his horse had a speed of her tongue: "I would my horse had the speed of your tongue". Benedick uses the word "speed" in the direct and figurative meanings simultaneously which is a SD of zeugma. His .speech as well as the speech of Beatrice is rich in all kinds of EMs and SDs. Further discussing with Claudio the latter's sweet-heart he says: "Why, i' faith, meth inks she's too low for a high praise, too brown for a fair praise, and too little for a great praise". Besides, one

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should note the double meaning of the words "fair", "low", "high" which is a kind of zeugma. The parallel constructions he uses bring out another SO, that of antithesis through which Benedick reveals his opinion about Hero, the object of Claudio's love. He tries to mock Claudio out of his love and asks him: "Would you buy her, that you inquire after her?" Claudio replies to Benedick through a metaphor: "Can the world buy such a jewel?" to which Benedick answers prolonging the metaphor ironically: "Yea, and a case to put it into". Finally he expresses his disapproval of Claudio's choice by comparing Hero with her cousin Beatrice: "there's her cousin, an she were not possessed with a fury, exceeds her as much in beauty as the first of May doth the last of December". Through this simile Benedick on the one hand expresses his contemptuous attitude to Hero and on the other hand reveals his admiration for the beauty of Beatrice.

Ironically bemoaning his friend's decision to marry Hero, Benedick refers to marriage as a "yoke" (a trite metaphor). He predicts to Claudio his sad fate: he will "sigh away Sundays". Through this periphra~is Benedick wants to say that Claudio will be soon bored to death and regret the irrevoca ble step he had taken.

Summing up the analysis of the extract of the play one should note the artistic way the dialogue is constructed to reveal the brilliance and wit of the characters. Benedick and Beatrice are shown through their speech which is sharp, colourful and bold, rich in EMs and SDs used by the characters most naturally as they challenge each other in their canst an t verbal figh ts.

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING

Act II, Scene I

A hall in Leonato's MUse. Enter Leonato, Antonio, Hero, Beatrice, and others.

Leo nat 0: Was not Count John here at supper? Ant ani 0: I saw him not. B eat ric e: How tartly that gentleman looks! I nev

er can see him but I am heart-burned an hour after. Her 0: He is of a very melancholy disposition.

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B eat ric e: He were an excellent man that were made just in the midway between him and Benedick: the one is too like an image and says nothing; and the other too like my lady's eldest son, evermore tattling.

Leo nat 0: Then half Signior Benedick's tongue in Count John's mouth, and half Count John's melancholy in Signior Benedick's face,-

B eat ric e: With a good leg and a good foot, uncle, and money enough in his purse, such a man would win any woman in the world, if a 'could get her good-will.

Leo nat 0: By my troth, niece, thou wilt never get thee a husband, if thou be so shrewd of thy tongue.

Ant 0 n i 0: In faith, she's too curst. Be a t ric e: Toocurst is more than curst: I shall les

sen God's sending that way; for it is said, 'God sends a curst cow short horns'; but to a cow too curst he sends none.

Leo nat 0: So, by being too curst, God will send you no horns.

B eat ric e: Just, if he send me no husband; for the which blessing I am at him upon my knees every morning and evening. Lord, I could not endure a husband with a beard on his face: I had rather lie in the woollen.

Leo nat 0: You may light on a husband that hath no beard.

Be a t ric e: What should I do with him? dress him in my apparel, and make him my waiting-gentlewoman? He that hath a beard is more than a youth; and he that hath no beard is less than a man; and he that is more than a youth is not for me; and he that is less than a man, I am not for him: therefore I will even take sixpence in earnest of the bearward, and lead his apes into hell.

Leo nat 0: Well, then, go you into hell? B eat ric e: No, but to the gate; and there will the

devil meet me, like an old cuckold, with horns on his head, and say, 'Get you to heaven, Beatrice, get you to heaven; here's no place for you maids': so deliver I up my apes, and away to Saint Peter for the heavens; he shows me where the bachelors sit, and there live we as merry as the day is long.

Ant 0 n i 0 [To Hero]: Well, niece, I trust you will be ruled by your father.

B eat ric e: Yes, faith; it is my cousin's duty to make curtsey, and say, 'Father, as it please you' But yet for all

125

that, cousin, let him be a handsome fellow, or else make another curtsey, and say, 'Father, as it please me'

Leo nat 0: Well, niece, I hope to see you one day fitted with a husband.

B eat ric e: Not till God m~e men of some other metal than earth. Would it not grieve a woman to be overmastered with a piece of valiant dust? to make an account of her life to a clod of wayward marl? No, uncle, I'll none: Adam's sons are my brethren; and, truly, I hold it a sin to match in my kindred.

Leo nat 0: Daughter, remember what I told you: if the prince do solicit you in that kind, you know your answer.

B eat ric e: The fault will be in the music, cousin, if you be not wooed in good time: if the prince be too important, tell him there is measure in every thing, and so dance out the answer. For, hear me, Hero: wooing, wedding, and repenting, is as a Scotch jig, a measure, and a cinque pace: the first suit is hot· and hasty, like a Scotch jig, and full as fantastical; the wedding, mannerly-modest, as a measure, full of state and ancientry; and then comes repentance, and with his bad legs, falls into the cinque pace faster and faster, tiII he sink into his grave.


I. Wh at impression do you get from Beatrice? 2. Comment on Leonato's words: "By my troth, niece,

thou wilt never get thee a husband, if thou be so shrewd of thy tongue".

3. Discuss the meaning of the saying: "God sends a curst cow short horns" and comment on its stylistic peculiarity. Say why Beatrice uses it.

4. Speak on the way Leonato interprets the above mentioned saying. What SD is used by him?

5. Find cases of periphrasis in Beatrice's speech and speak of their function.

6. Discuss Beatrice's attitude towards marriage, comment on lexical and phonetic EMs and SDs used in her speech and speak of the effect achieved through the use of these devices.

7. Comment on the different ways Shakespeare manipulates with the remarks of the characters.

8. Summing up your analysis of the extract, discuss the character' of Beatrice and her views as they are revealed through her speech.

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GEORGE BERNARD SHAW

WIDOWERS' HOUSES Act III

Lickcheese, Sartorius' former tax-collector, appears quite a different figure: now he has become rich and is Sartorius' equal.

The parlormaid comes in, evidently excited. I h epa rio r m aid: Please, sir, Mr Lickcheese wants

to see you very particular. On important business. Your business, he told me to say.

S art 0 r ius: Mr. Lickcheesel Do you mean Lickcheese who used to come here on my business?

I h epa rio r m aid: Yes, sir. But indeed, sir, youd scarcely know him.

S art 0 r ius: (frowning) Hml Starving, I suppose. Come to beg?

The par lor m aid (intensely repudiating the idea): O-o-o-o-h NO, sir. Quite the gentleman, sirl Sealskin overcoat, sirl Come in a hansom, all shaved and clean I I'm sure he's come into a fortune, sir.

S art 0 r ius: Hml Shew him up.

Lickcheese, who has been waiting at the door, instantly comes in. The change in his .'!:ppearance is dazzling. He is in et'ening dress, with an overcoat lined throughout with furs presenting all the hues of the tiger. His shirt is fastened at the breast with a single diamond stud. His silk hat is of the glossiest black; a handsome gold watch-chain hangs like a garland on his filled-out waistcoat; he has shaved his whiskers and grown a moustache, the ends of which are waxed and pointed. As Sartorius stares speechless at him, he stands, smiling, to be admired, intensely enjoying the effect he is producing. The parlormaid, hardly less pleased with her own share in this coup-de-thedtre, goes out beaming, full of the news for the kitchen. Lickcheese clinches the situation by a triumphant nod at Sartorius.

S art 0 r ius: (bracing himself: hostile): Well? L i c k c h e e s e: Quite well, Sartorius, thankee. S art 0 r ius: I was not asking after your health, sir,

as you know, I think, ~ well as I do. What is your business?

Lie k c h e e s e: Business that I can take elsewhere if I meet with less civility than I please to put up with, Sar-

127

torius. You and me is man and man now. It was money that used to be my master, and not you: dont think it. Now that I'm independent in respect of money-

S art 0 r ius (crossing determinedly to the door, and holding it open): You can take your independence out of my house, then. I wont have it here.

L i c k c h e e s e (indulgently): Come, Sartorius: dont be stiff-necked. I come here as a friend to put money in your pocket. No use your lettin on to me that youre above money. Eh?

S art 0 r ius (hesitates, and at last shuts the door, saying guardedly): How much money?

L i c k c h e e s e (victorious, going to Blanche's chair and taking off his overcoat): Ahl there you speak like yourself, Sartorius. Now suppose you ask me to sit down and make myself comfortable?

S art 0 r ius (coming from the door): I have a mind to put you downstairs by the back of your neck, you infernal blackguard.

L i c k c h e e s e (not a bit ruffled, hangs his overcoat on the back of Blanche's chair, pulling a cigar case out of one of the pockets as he does' So): You and me is too much of Ct pair for me to take anything you say in bad part, Sartorius. 'Ave a cigar?

S art 0 r ius: No smoking here: this is my daughter's room. However, sit down, sit down. (They sit.)

L i c k c h e e s e: I' bin gittin on a little since I saw you last.

S art 0 r ius: So I see. L i c k c h e e s e: lowe it partly to you, you know.

Does that surprise you? S art 0 r ius: It doesnt concern me. L i c k c h e e s e: So you think, Sartorius; because it

never did concern you how I got on, so long as I got you on by bringin in the rents. But I picked up something for myself down at Robbins's Row.

S art 0 r ius: I always thought so. Have you come to make restitution?

Lickcheese: You wouldnt take it if I offered it to you, Sartorius. It wasnt money: it was knowledge: knowledge of the great public question of the 'Ousing of the Working Classes.~ You know theres a Royal Commission on it, dont yeu?

S.a r tor ius: Oh, I see. Youve been giving evidence.

128.

Lie k c h e e s e: Giving evidencel Not me. What good would that do me? Only my expenses; and that not on the professional scale, neither. No: I gev no evidence. But I'll tell you what I did. I kep it back, jast to oblige one or two people whose feelins would a' bin 'urt by seein their names in a bluebook as keepin a fever den. Their Agent got so friendly with me over it that he put his name on a bill of mine to the tune of-well, no matter: it gev me a start; and a start was all I ever wanted to get on my feet. Ive got a copy of the first report of the Commission in the pocket of my overcoat. (He rises and gets at his overcoat, from a pocket of which he takes a bluebook.) I turned down the page to shew you: I thought youd like to see it. (He doubles the book back at the place indicated, and hands it to Sartorius.)

S art 0 r ius: So blackmail is the game, eh? (He puts the book on the table without looking at it, and strikes it emphatically with his fist.) I dont care that for my name being in bluebooks. My friends dont read them; and I'm neither a Cabinet Minister nor a candidate for Parliament. Theres nothing to be got out of me on that lay.

Lie k c h e e s e (shocked): Blackmail! Oh, Mr Sartorius, do you think I would let out a word about your premises? Round on an old pal! no: that aint Lickcheese's way. Besides, they know all about you already. Them stairs that you and me quarrelled about, {hey was a whole arternoon examinin the clergyman that made such a fuss-you remember?-about the women that was 'urt on it. He made the worst he could of it, in an ungentlemanly, unchristian spirit. I wouldnt have that clergyman's disposition for worlds. Oh no: thats not what was in my thoughts.

S art 0 r ius: Come, come, man! what was in your thoughts? Out with it.

Lie k c h e e s e (with provoking deliberation, smiling and looking mysteriously at him): You aint spent a few hundreds in repairs since we parted, 'ave you (Sartorius, losing patience, makes a threatening movement.) Now dont fly out at me. I know a landlord that owned as beastly a slum as you could find in London, down there by the Tower. By my advice that man put half the houses into first-class repair, and let the other Dalf to a new Company: the North Tham€s Iced Mutton Depot Company, of which I hold a few shares: promoters' shares. And what was the end of it, do you think?

Sa r tor ius: Smash, I suppose. 8-2896 129

L i c k c h e e s e: Smash I not a bit of it. Compensation, Mr Sartorius, compensation. Do you understand that?

S art 0 r ius: Compensation for what? L i c k c h e e s e: Why, the land was wanted for an ex

tension of the Mint; and the Corupany had to be bought out, and the buildings compensated for. Somebody has to know these things beforehand, you know, no matter how dark theyre kept.

S art 0 r ius (interested, but cautious): Well? L i c k c h e e s e: Is that all you have to say to me, Mr

Sartorius? "Well"l as if I was next door's dogl Suppose I'd got wind of a new street that would knock down Robbins's Rowand turn Burke's Walk into a frontage worth thirty pound a foot!-would you say no more to me than (mimicking) "Well"? (Sartorius hesitates, looking at him in great doubt. Lickcheese rises and exhibits himself.) Cornel look at my get-up, Mr Sartorius. Look at this watch-chainl Look at the corporation Ive got on me! Do you think all that came from keeping my mouth shut? No: it came from keeping my ears and eyes open.

Blanche comes in, foilawed by the parlormaid, who has a silver tray on which she collects the coffee cups. Sartorius, impatient at the interruption, rises and motions Lickcheese to the door of the study.

Sa r tor ius: Sh! We must talk this over in the study. There is a good fire there; and you can smoke. Blanche: an old friend of ours.

L i c k c h e e s e: And a kind one to me. I hope I see you well, Miss Blanche.

B I an c h e: Why. it's Mr Lickcheese! I hardly knew you.

L i c k c h e e s e: I find you a little changed yourself, miss.

B I an c h e (hastily): Oh, I am the same as ever. How are Mrs Lickcheese and the chil-

S art 0 r ius (impatiently): We have business to transact, Blanche. You can talk to Mr Lickcheese afterwards. Come on.

130

Sartorius and Lickcheese go into the study. Blanche. surprised at her father's abruptness. looks after them for a moment. Then, seeing Lickcheese's overcoat on her chair, she takes it up, amused, and looks at the fur.

The par lor m aid: Oh, we are fine, aint we, Miss Blanche? I think Mr Lickcheese must have come into a legacy. (Confidentially.) I wonder what he can want with the master, Miss Blanchel He brought him this big book. (She shews the bLuebook to Blanche.)

B I an c h e (her curiosity roused): Let me see. (She takes the book and looks at it.) Theres something about papa in it. (She sits down and begins to read.)

The par lor m aid (foLding the tea-table and putting it out of the way): He looks ever s'much younger, Miss Blanche, dont he? I couldnt help laughingwhen I saw him with his whiskers shaved off: it do look so silly when youre not accustomed to it. (No answer from Blanche.) You havnt finished your coffee, miss: I suppose I may take it away? (No answer.) Oh, you are interested in Mr Lickcheese's book, miss.

Blanche springs up. The parlormaid Looks at her face, and instantly hurries out of the room on tiptoe with her tray.

B I a n c h e: So that was why he would not touch the money. (She tries to tear the book across. Finding this impossible she throws it violently into the fireplace. It falls into the fender.) Oh, if only a girl could have no father, no family, just as I have no motherl Clergyman I beast! "The worst slum landlord in London." "Slum landlord." Ohl (She covers her face with her hands, and sinks shuddering into the chair on which the overcoat lies. The study door opens.)

L i c k c h e e s e (in the study): You just wait five minutes: I'll fetch him. (B lanche snatches a piece of work from her basket, and sits erect and quiet, stitching at it. Lickcheese comes back, speaking to Sartorius, who follows him.) He lodges round the corner in Gower Street; and my private ansom's at the door. By your leave, Miss Blanche (pulling gently at his overcoat).

B I an c h e (rising): I beg your pardon. I hope I havnt crushed it.

Lie k c h e e s e (gallantly, as he gets into the coat): Youre welcome to crush it again now, Miss Blanche. Dont say good evenin to me, miss: I'm comin back presently: me and a friend or two. Ta .ta, Sartorius: I shant be long. (He goes out.)

Sartorius looks about for the bluebook.

B I an c h e: I thought we were done with Lickcheese. 94' 151

S art 0 r ius: Not quite yet, I think. He left a book here for me to look over: a large book in a blue paper cover. Has the girl put it away? (He sees it in the fender; looks at Blanche; and adds) Have you seen it?

B I an c h e: No. Yes. (Angrily). No: I have not seen it. What have I to do with it?

Sartorius picks up the book and dusts it; then sits dGwn quietly to read. After a glance up and down the collimns, he nods assentingly, as if he found there exactly what he expected.

S art 0 r ius: It's a curious th ing, Blanche, that the Parliamentary gentlemen who write such books as these should be so ignorant of practical business. One would suppose, to read this, that we are the most grasping, grinding, heartless pair in the world, you and I.

B I an c h e: Is it not true? About the state of the houses, I mean?

S art 0 r ius (calmly): Oh, quite true. B I a n c h e: Then it is not our fault? S art 0 r ius: My dear:.jf we made the houses any bet

ter, the rents would have to be raised so much that the poor people would be unable to pay, and would be thrown homeless on the streets.

B I an c h e: Well, turn them out and get in a respectable class of people. Why should we have the disgrace of harboring such wretches?

Sa r tor ius (opening his eyes): That sounds a little hard on them, doesnt it, my child?

B I a n c h e: Oh, I hate the poor. At least, I hate those dirty, drunken, disreputable people who live like pigs. If they must be provided for, let other people look after them. How can you expect anyone to think well of us when such things are written about us in that infamous book?

S art 0 r ius (coldly and a little wistfully): I see I have made a real lady of you, Blanche.

Stylistic Analysis

Bernard Shaw is "one of the most challenging authors" as one critic put it. Bernard Shaw was the first to introduce "the political theatre" in England. This task, as he himself emphasized, was to tear the mask off appearances, and expose the inhumanity and hypocrisy of bcurgeois society, hence his ch ief weapon is irony, and biting satire.

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"Widower!;' Houses", one of Shaw's "unpleasant plays", is a brilliant example of the author's satirical genius. The devices employed by him are keyed to the purpose bf ridicul~ and exposure of the vices of society.

Bernard Shaw gives an insight into the situation and the characters through: a) the speech of the characters; b) sta~(! directions.

The persons of the play: Sartorius, Lickcheese, Cokane and others are splendidly characterized through their Sp(~('ch which rdlccts many peculiarities of the oral type of sp(>t'ch. Th~S(> peculiarities may be classified as lexical, sYlltadical and phonetic.

Lexical pt>culiarities are reprcsented by the vocabulary til(' characters use. For example Lickcheese's speech is that of clll urJl,ducat('d man: it abounds in colloquialisms and vLlI~arisrns ("pall", "beastly", "come, come, Sartorius", thaflkce").

His grammar is incorrect: note the use of such forms as "we aint", "I 'bin", etc.

l.ickcheest~'s pronunciation is also typical of uneducated specch. For example he drops his "h "s. (He pronounces "hurt" as "urt", "have" as "ave".)

Bl'sides Lickcheese mispronounces the "ing" forms. (He pronounces the words-"lettin2..", "getting", as "Iettin",

L,(cttin", ctc.) Features of the oral type of speech can be well illustrat

ed by the syntactic peculiarities in the characters' speech. The frequent use of elliptical sentences is typical of all the pl'rSOl1s. For example:

ThE' par lor m aid: Quite the gentleman, sirl Sealskin overcoat, sir ...

Sa r tor ius: Smash, I suppose. L i c k c h e e s e: Compensation, Mr Sartorius, compen

sat ion.

It is interesting to mention the apt use of EMs which J,!ivc emotional colouring to the dialogue. One should note till' frequent use of interjections ("why", "oh", "ah"), exclamatory sentences and questions. The following example is a good H1ustration of. the use of EMs.

The p 8 rIo r m 8 i d: Please, sir, Mr Lickcheese wants to see you.

S 8 r tor ius: Mr Lickcheesel Do you mean Lickcheese who used to come here on my business? lo-tSU., ISS

In the above cited example the use of the word "Mr" acquires a specific emotional colouring and reveals Sartorius' attitude to Lickcheese. By this remark Sartorius exhibits his contempt for the poor, which is typical of him.

In places Bernard Shaw resorts to graphic means, to render the effect of the characters' intonation, and thus to stress the emotional colouring of the utterance: "O-o-o·o-h no, sir. .. " (The parlormaid).

It should be noted that Shaw gives a superb though laconic description of his characters in his long-stage directions wh ich are brimming with humour verging on sarcasm.

Take, for instance, the description of Lickcheese at the height of his glory in "an overcoat lined throughout with furs presenting all the hues of the tiger".

Pay attention to the function of the epithets used to describe the characters such as "dazzling", "triumphant", "speechless''.. Note the function of the epithets in shortstage directions, such as: S art 0 r ius (hostile); Sa r t 0 rius (cautious).

These epithets (and others) serve as clues to the further development of the action, and reveal other features pecu 1-i<.lr to the persons of the play.

Bernard Shaw gives a clear insight into his characters by making them express their attitude towards each other and towards the world at large. Note the change in the attitude of Sartorius towards Lickcheese.

Sartorius overwhelmed by surprise at Lickcheese's sud-den appearance asks him in a hostile tone:

S art 0 r ius: Well? L i c k c h e e s e: Quite well, Sartorius, thankee. S art 0 r ius: I was not asking after your health, sir,

as you know, I think, as well as I do. What is your business?

Note the different connotation of the word "well" used by Sartorius and Lickcheese. Sartorius, though angry, tries to speak up to his position in society, he is a man of consequence and he does his best not to forget this, though, in places, his self-control gives way to anger and he is less "choosy" in h is expressions:

S art 0 r ius: I have a mind to put you downstairs by the back of your neck, you infernal blackguard.

As for Lickcheese he makes a point of speaking his "nat-

lS4

ural" language and sometimes he pretends not to understand what Sartorius means (see the example cited above).

The EMs and SDs used with exquisite brilliarrce both in the stage directions and in the speech of the persons of the play, serve the purpose of giving the reader a deep insight into the situation and the characters.

The desired effect is achieved, the mask of respectability worn by "the pillars of society" is torn off and Bernard Shaw's satirical attitude towards bourgeois society fully revealed.

GEORGE BERNARD SHAW

WIDOWERS' HOUSES

Act III

Lickcheese comes in with Trench and Cokane. Both are in evening dress. Cokane shakes hands effusively with Sartorius. Trench, who is coarsened and sullen, and has evidently not been making the best of his disappointment, bows shortly and resentfully. Lickcheese covers the general embarrassment by talking cheerfully until they are all seated round the large table: Trench nearest the fireplace; Cokane nearest the piano; and the other two between them, with Lickcheese next Cokani!:

L i c k c h e e s e: Here we are, all friends round St Paul's. You remember Mr Cokane? he does a little business for me now as a friend, and gives me a help with my correspondence: sekketerry we call it. Ive no Jitery style, and thats the truth; so Mr Cokane kindly puts it into my letters and draft prospectuses and advertisements and the like. Dont you, Cokane? Of course you do: why shouldnt you? He's been helping me to-night to persuade his old friend, Dr Trench, about the matter we were speaking of.

Co k an e (austerely): No, Mr Lickcheese, not trying to persuade him. No: this is a matter of principle with me. I say it is your duty. Henry-your duty-to put those abominable buildings into proper and habitable repair. As a man of science you owe it to the community to perfect the sanitary arrangements. In questions of duty there is no room for persuasion, even from the oldest friend.

S art or ius (to Trench): I certainly feel, as Mr Cokane puts it, that it is our duty: one which I have perhaps too long neglected out of regard for the poorest class of tenants. 10· 1115

L i c k c h e e s e: Not a doubt of it, gents: a dooty. I can be as sharp as any man when it's a question of business; but dooty's another pair 0' shoes.

T r e n c h: Well, I dont see that it's any more my duty now than it was four months ago. of look at it simply as a quest ion of so much money.

Co k an e: Shame, Harry, shame! Shame! T r e n c h: Oh, shut up, you fool. (Cokane springs up.) Lie k c h e e s e (catching his coat and holding him):

Steady! steady! Mr Sekketerry. Dr Trench is only joking. Co k an e: I insist on the withdrawal of that expres-

sion. I h ave been called a fool. T r e n c h (morosely): So you are a fool. Co k a n e: Then you are a damned fool. Now, sir! T r e n c h: All right. Now weve settled that. (Cokane,

with a snort, sits down.) What I mean is this. Dont lets have any nonsense about this job. As I understand it, Robbins's Row is to be pulled down to make way for the new street into the Strand; and the straigh t tip now is to go for compensation.

Lie k c h e e s e (chuckling): That'so, Dr Trench. Thats it

T r e n c h (continuing): Well, it appears that the dirtier a place is the more rent you get; and the decenter it is, the more compensation you get. So we're to give up dirt and go in for decency.

S art 0 r ius: I should not put it exactly in that way; but-

Co k a n e: Quite right, Mr Sartorius, quite right. The case could not have been stated in worse taste or with less tact.

Lie k c h e e s e: Sh-sh-sh-sh! S art 0 r ius: I do not quite go with you there, Mr Co

kane. Dr Trench puts the case frankly as a man of business. I take the wider view of a public man. We live in a progressive age; and humanitarian ideas are advancing and must be taken into account. But my practical conclusion is the same as his. I should hardly feel justified in making a large claim for compensation under existing circumstances.

L i c k c h e e s e: Of course not; and you wouldnt get it if you did. You see, it's like this, Dr Trench. Theres no doubt that the Vestries has legal powers to play old Harry with slum properties, and spoil the houseknacking game if they please. That didnt matter in the good old times, be-

1S6

cause the Vestries used to be ourselves. Nobody ever knew a word about the election; and we used to get ten of us into a room and elect one another, and do what we liked. Well, that cock wont fight any longer; and, to put it short, the game is up for men in the position of you and Mr Sartorius. My advice to you is, take the present chance of getting out of it. Spend a little money on the block at the Cribbs Market end: enough to make it look like a model dwelling, you know; and let the other block to me on fair terms for a depot of the North Thames Iced Mutton Company. Theyll be knocked down inside of two year to make room for the new north and south main thoroughfare; and youll be compensated to the tune of double the present valuation, with the cost of improvements thrown in. Leave things as they are; and you stand a good chance of being fined, or condemned, or pul1ed down before long. Now's your time.

Co k an e: Hear, hear! Hear, hear! Hear, hear! Admirably put from the business point of view! I recognize the uselessness of putting the moral point of view to you, Trench; bu t even you must feel to cogency of Mr Lickcheese's business statement.

T r e n c h: But why cant you act without me? What have I got to do with it? I'm only a mortgagee.

S art 0 r ius: There is a certain risk in th is compensation investment, Dr Trench:·The County Council may alter the line of the new street. If that happens, the money spent in improving the houses will be thrown away: simply thrown away. Worse than thrown away, in fact; for the new buildings may stand unlet or half let for years. But you will expect your seven per cent as usual.

T r e n c h: A man must live. Co k an e: Je n 'en vois pas la necessite. T r e n c h: Shut up, BiIly; or else speak some language

you understand. No, Mr Sartorius: I should be very glad to stand in with you if I could afford it; but I cant; so you may leave me out of it.

Lie k c h e e s e: Well, all I can say is that youre a very foolish young man.

Co k a n e: What did I tell you, Harry? T r e n c h: I dont.see that it's any business of yours,

Mr Lickcheese. Lie k c h e e s e: It's a free country: every man has

a right to his opinIon. Co k an e: Hear, hearl

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L i c k c h e e s e: Cornel wheres your feelins for them poor people, Dr Trench? Remember how it went to your heart when I first told you about them. What! are you going to turn hard?

T r e n c h: No: it wont do: you cant get over me that way. You proved to me before th at there was no use in being sentimental over that slum shop of ours; and its no good your turning round on the philanthropic task now that you want me to put my capital into your speculation. Ive had my lesson; and I'm going to stick to my present income. It's I ittle enough for me as it is.

Sa r tor ius: It really matters nothing to me, Dr Trench, how you decide. I can easily raise the money elsewhere and pay you off. Then, since you are resolved to run no risks, you can invest your ten thousand pounds in Consols and get two hundred and fifty pounds a year for it instead of seven hundred.

Trench, completely outwitted, stares at them in consternation. Cokane breaks the silence.

Co k an e: This is what comes of being avaricious, Harry. Two-thirds of your income gone at one blow. And I must say it serves you righ t.

T r en c h: Thats all very fine; but I dont understand it. If you can do this to me, why didnt you do it long ago?

S art 0 r ius: Because, as I should probably have had to borrow at the same rate, I should have saved nothing; whereas you would have lost over four hundred a year: a very serious matter for you. I had no desire to be unfriendly; and even now I should be glad to let the mortgage stand, were it not that the circumstances mentioned by Mr Lickcheese force my hand. Besides, Dr Trench, I hoped for some time that our interests might be joined by closer ties even than those of friendship.

L i c k c h e e s e (jumping up, relieved): Therel Now the murder's out. Excuse me, Dr Trench. Excuse me, Mr Sartorius; excuse my freedom. Why not Dr Trench marry Miss Blanche, and settle the whole affair that way?

Sensation. Lickcheese sits down triumphant.

Co k an e: You forget, Mr Lickcheese, that the young lady, whose taste has to be considered, decisively objected to him.

138

T r e n c h: Ohl Perhaps you think she was struck with you.

Co k an e: I do not say so, Trench. No man of any delicacy would suggest such a thing. You have an untutored mind, Trench, an untutored mind.

T r e n c h: Well, Cokane: Ive told you my opinion of you already.

Co k a n e (rising wildly): And I have told you my opinion of yOLl. I will repeat it if you wish. 1 am ready to repeat it.

Lie k c h e e s e: Come, Mr Sekketerry: you and me, as married men, is out of the unt as far as young ladies is concerned. I know Miss Blanche: she has her father's eye for business. Explain this job to her; and she'll make it up with Dr Trench. Why not have a bit of romance in business when it costs nothing? We all have our feelins: we aint mere calculatin machines.

S art 0 r ius (re7.!o/ted): Do you think, Lickcheese, that my daugh ter is to be made part of a money bargain between you and these gentlemen?

Lie k c h e e s e: Oh come, Sartorius! dont talk as if you was the only father in the world. 1 have a daughter too; and my feelins in that matter is just as fine as yours. 1 propose nothing but what is for Miss Blanche's advantage and Dr Trench's.

Co k an e: Lickcheese expresses himself roughly, Mr Sartorius; but his is a sterling nature; and what he says is to the point. If Miss Sartorius can really bring herself to care for Harry, 1 am far from desiring to stand in the way of such an arrangement.

T r e n c h: Why, what have you got to do with it? L i c k c h e e s e: Easy, Dr Trench, easy. We want your

opinion. Are you still on for marrying Miss Blanche if she's agreeable?

T r e n c h (shortly): 1 dont know that I am. (Sartorius rises indignantly.)

L i c k c h e e s e: Easy one moment, Mr Sartorius. (To Trench.) Come now, Dr Trenchl you say that you dont know that you are. But do you know that you aint? thats what we want to know.

T r e n c h (sulkily): °1 wont have the relations between Miss Sartorius and myself made part of a bargain. (He rises to leave the table.)

L. i eke h e e s e (rising): Thats enough: a gentleman

139

could say no less. (Insinuatingly.) Now, would you mind me and Cokane and the guvnor steppin into the study to arrange about the lease to the North Thames Iced Mutton Company?

T r e n c h: Oh, / dont mind. I'm going home. Theres nothing more to say. •

L i c k c h e e s e: No: dont go. Only just a minute: me and Cokane will be back in no time to see you home. Youll wait for us, wont you?

sir.

T r e n c h: Oh well, if you wish, yes. L i c k c h e e s e (cheerily): Didnt I know you would! S art 0 r ius (at the study door, to Cokune): After you,

Cokane baws formally and goes intu the study.

L i c k c h e e s e (at the door, aside to Sarturills): You never 'ad such a managin man as me, Sartorius. (He gues into the study chuckling, followed by Sartorius.)

Assignments for Stylistic Analysis -.

I. Study the speech of the characters and discuss vari-ous language peculiarities characteristic of the oral type of speech: classify them into three groups-lexical, syntactical and phonetic.

2. Comment on the way Bernard Shaw depicts his characters through their speech.

a) Discuss the speech of Cokane: note his high-flown manner of speech and bookish vocabulary (pick out common literary words, barbarisms, instances of pompous periphrases, etc.)

b) Discuss the speech of Lickcheese: note the frequent use of vulgarisms, colloquial words, the p£culiarities of uneducated speech in grammar and phonetics.

c) Discuss the speech of Sartorius: note the change in his speech caused by Lickcheese's proposal of a good bargain and pick out the EMs through which the effect is achieved.

3. Summing up your analysis of the speech characteristics of the personages dwell on their individual features and psychology revealed through their speech.

4. Study the stage remarks, both long stage directions and short remarks, dwell on their various functions and stylistic ·peculiarities. Note the use of epithets and speak on their role.

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B. INDEPENDENT STYLISTIC ANALYSIS

RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN THE RIVALS

Act I

The extract presents a scene between Lydia, a fashionable young niece of Mrs. Malaprop, Mrs. Malaprop and Sir Anthony Absolute, a wealthy country gentleman.

L y d i a: Here, my dear Lucy, hide these books. Quick, quick! Fling Peregrine Pickle under the toilet-throw Roderick Random into the closet-put The Innocent Adultery into The IX'hole Duty of Man-thrust Lord Aimworth under the sofa-cram Ovid behind the bolster-there-put The Man of Feeling into your pocket-so, so-now lay Mrs. Chapone in sight and leave Fordyce's Sermons open on the table.

L u c y: 0 burn it, rna 'am! the hairdresser has torn away as far as Proper Pride.

L y d i a: Never mind-open at Sobriety. Fling me Lord Chesterfield's Letters. Now for 'em.

(Exit Lucy. Enter Mrs. Malaprop and Sir Anthony Absolute.)

Mrs. M a I apr a p: There, Sir Anthony, there sits the deliberate simpleton who wants- to disgrace her family and lavish herself on a fellow not worth a shilling.

L y d i a: Madam, I thought you once-Mrs. M a I apr a p: You thought, miss! I don't know

any business you have to think at all-thought does not become a young woman. But the point we would request of you is that you will promise to forget this fellow-to illiterate him, I say, quite from your memory_

L y d i a: Ah, madaml our memories are independent of our wills. It is not so easy to forget.

Mrs. M a I apr a p: But I say it is, miss; there is nothing on earth so easy as to forget, if a person chooses to set about it. I'm sure I have as much forgot your poor dear uncle as if he had never existed-and I thought it my duty so to do; and let me tell you, Lydia, these violent memories don't become a young woman.

Sir Ant han y: Why sure she won't pretend to remember what she's ordered notl Ay, this comes of her readingl

L y d i a: What crime, madam, have I committed, to be treated thus? 11-2896 141

Mrs. M a I apr 0 p: Now don't attempt to extirpate yourself from the matter; you know I have proof controvertible of it. But tell me, will you promise to do as you're bid? Will you take a husband of your friends' choosing?

L y d i a: Madam, I must tell you plainly, that had I no preference for anyone else, the choice you have made would be my aversion.

Mrs. M a I apr 0 p: What business have you, miss, with preference and aversion? They don't become a young woman; and you ought to know, that as both always wear off, 'tis safest in matrimony to begin with a little aversioll. I am sure I hated your poor dear uncle before marriage-and yet, miss, you are sensible what a wife I made-and when it pleased Heaven to release me from him, 'tis unknown what tears I shed! But suppose we were going to give you another choice, will you promise us to give up this Beverley?

L y d i a: Could I belie my thoughts so far as to give that promise, my actions would certainly as far belie my words.

Mrs. M a I apr 0 p: Take yourself to your room. You are fit company for nothing but your own ill humors.

L y d i a: Willingly, ma'am-I cannot change for the worse. (Exit.)

Mrs. M a I apr 0 p: There's a little intricate hussy for you!

Sir Ant h 0 n y: It is not to be wondered at, rna 'amall this is the natural consequence of teaching girls to read. Had I a thousand daughters, by Heaven! I'd as soon have them taugh t the black art as their alphabet!

Mrs. M a I apr 0 p: Nay, nay, Sir Anthony, you are an absolute misanthropy.

Sir Ant h 0 n y: In my way hither, Mrs. Malaprop, I observed your niece's maid coming forth from a circulating library! She had a book in each hand-they were halfbound volumes, with marble covers! From that moment I guessed how full of duty I should see her mistress!

Mrs. M a I apr 0 p: Those are vile places, indeed! Sir Ant han y: Madam, a circulating library in a

town is as an evergreen tree of diabolical knowledge! I t blossoms through the year-and depend on it, Mrs. Malaprop, that they who are so fond of handling the leaves, will long for the fruit at last.

Mrs. M a I apr 0 p: Fy, fy, Sir Anthony, you surely speak laconically.

142

Sir Ant han y: Why, Mrs. Malaprop, in moderation now, what would you have a woman know?

Mrs. Malaprop: Observe me, Sir Anthony. J would by no means wish a daughter of mine to be a progeny of learning; I don't think so much learning becomes a young woman; for instance, I would never let her meddle with Greek or Hebrew or algebra or simony or fluxions or paradoxes or such inflammatory branches of learning-neither would it be necessary for her to handle any of your mathematical, astronomical, diabolical instruments. But, Sir Anthony, I would send her, at nine years old, to a boarding school, in order to let her learn a little ingenuity and artifice. Then, sir, she should have a supercilious knowledge in accounts; and as she grew up, I would have her instructed in geometry, that she might know something of the contagious countries; but above all, Sir Anthony, she should be mistress of orthodoxy, that she might not misspell and mispronounce words so shamefully as girls usually do; and likewise that she might reprehend the true meaning of what she is saying. This, Sir Anthony, is what I would have a woman know; and I don't think there is a superstitious article in it.

Sir Ant han y: Well, well, Mrs. Malaprop, I will dispute the point no further with you; though I must confess that you are a truly moderate and polite arguer, for almost every third word you say-is on my side of the question.


1. How is a humorous effect achieved in the scene in which Lydia, who is fond of reading, is hiding her books from her aunt Mrs. Malaprop?

2. Note how Sheridan plays with the titles. Cite examples in which Lydia seems to treat books as real people.

3. Discuss the pecu li ari ties of Mrs. Malaprop's speech. Comment on her misusmg words which have become known as "malapropism": "to illiterate" instead of "obliterate", "extirpate" instead of "extricate", "controvertible"-"incon trovertible", "in tricate"- "obstinate", "misantrophy""misantrope", "laconically"- "ironically", "progeny""prodigy". Pick out similar cases in her speech.

4. Speak on Sir Antl10ny Absolute's and Mrs. Malaprop's attitude to the education of women. Pick out EMs and SOs through which their point of view is stressed.

5. Conunent on the SD used by Sir Anthony, "a circula-11° 145

ting library in a town is as an evergreen tree of diabolical knowledge", say in what way it is prolonged and what allusion it is based on.

6. Note stylistic peculhrities of Sir Anthony's speech when he dwells on his mt:1hods of upbringing children.

7. Discuss the names Sheridan ·has given his characters (Malaprop, Absolute). Why are these names appropriate?

8. Summing up your analysis speak of Sheridan's ironic treatment of his characters and the SDs that reveal his attitude.

OSCAR WILDE

AN IDEAL HUSBAND Act I

Mrs. Chiveley, a cunning adventuress, comes to Sir Robert Chilo tern-a prominent public figure with the purpose of blackmaiIlng him.

Mrs. C h eve ley: Sir Robert, I wiII be quite frank with you. I want you to withdraw the report that you had intended to lay before the House, on the ground that you have reasons to believe that the Commissioners have been prejudiced or misinformed, or something. Then I want you to say a few words to the effect that the Government is going to reconsider the question, and that you have reason to believe that the Canal, if completed, will be of great international value. You know the sort of things ministers say in cases of this kind. A few ordinary platitudes will do. In m!Jdern life nothing produces such an effect as a good platitude. It makes the whole world kin. Will you do that for me?

Sir Rob e r t Chi I t ern: Mrs. Cheveley, you cannot be serious in making me such a propositionl

Mrs. C h eve ley: I am quite serious. Sir Rob e r t Chi I t ern (coldly): Pray allow me

to believe that you are not. Mrs. C h eve ley (speaking with great deliberation

and emphasis): Ahl but I am. And if you do what I ask you, 1... will pay you very handsomelyl

Sir Rob e r t Chi I t ern: Pay mel Mrs. C h eve ley: Yes. Sir Rob e r t Chi I t ern: I am afraid I don't quite

understand what you mean. Mrs: C h eve ley (leaning back on the sofa and look

ing at him): How very disappointingl And I have come all

1«

the way from Vienna in order that you should thoroughly understand me.

Sir Rob e r t Chi 1 t ern: I fear I don't. Mrs. C h eve ley (in her most nonchalant manner):

My dear Sir Robert, you are a man of the world, and you have your price, I suppose. Everybody has nowadays. The drawback is that most people are so dreadfully expensive. I know I am. I hope you will be more reasonable in your terms.

Sir Rob e r t Chi I t ern (rises indignantly): If you will allow me, I will call your carriage for you. You have lived so long abroad, Mrs. Cheveley, that you seem to be unable to realize that you are talking to an English gentleman.

Mrs. C h eve ley (detains him by touching his arm with her fan, and keeping it there while she is talking): I reaJ· ize that I am b'llking to a man who laid the foundation of his fortune by selling to a Stock Exchange speculator a Cabinet secret.

Sir Rob e r t Chi I t ern (biting his lip): What do you mean?

Mrs. C h eve ley (rising and facing him): I mean that I know the real origin of your wealth and your career, and I have got your letter, too.

Sir Rob e r t Chi I t e r-n: What letter? Mrs. C h eve ley (contemptuously): The letter you

wrote to Baron Amheim. when you were Lord Radley's secretary, telling the Baron to buy Suez Canal shares-a Jetter written three days before the Government announced its own purchase.

Sir Rob e r t Chi I t ern (hoarsely): It is not true. Mrs. C h eve I ~ y. You thought that letter had been

destroyed. How foolish of you! It is in my possession. Sir Rob e r t Chi I t ern: The affair to which you

allude was no more than a speculation. The House of Commons had not yet passed the bill; it might have been rejected.

Mrs. C h eve ley: It was a swindle, Sir Robert. Let us call things by their proper names. It makes everything simpler. And now I am going to sell you that letter, and the price I ask for it is your public support of the Argentine scheme. You made your own fortune out of one canal. You must help .me and my friends to make our fortunes out of another I

145

Sir Rob e r t Chi I t ern: It is infamous, what you propose-infamousl

Mrs. C he vel e y: Oh, nol This is the game of life as we all have to play it, Sir Robert, sooner or laterl

Sir Rob e r t Chi I t ern:' I cannot do what you ask me.

Mrs. C h eve ley: You mean you cannot help doing it. You know you are standing on the edge of a precipice. And it is not for you to make terms. It is for you to accept them. Supposing you refuse-

Sir Rob e r t Chi I t ern: What then? Mrs. C h eve ley: My dear Sir Robert, what then?

You are ruined, that is alii Remember to what a point your Puritanism in England has brought you. In old days nobody pretended to be a bit better than his neighbours. In fact, to be a bit better than one's neighbour was considered excessively vulgar and middle-class. Nowadays, with our modem mania for morality, everyone has to pose as a paragon of pmity, incorruptibility, and all the other seven deadly virhies-and what is the result( You all go over like ninepinsone after the other. Not a year passes in England without somebody disappearing. Scandals used to lend charm, or Clt least interest, to a man-now they crush him. And yours IS a very nasty scandal. You couldn't survive it. If it were known that as a young man, secretary to a great and important minister, you sold a Cabinet secret for a large sum of money, and that was the origin of your wealth and career, you would be hounded out of public life, you would disappear completely. And after all, Sir Robert, why should you sacrifice your entire future rather than deal diplomatically with your enemy? For the moment I am your enemy. I admit it! And I am much stronger than you are. The big battalions are on my side. You have a splendid position, but it is your splendid position that makes you so vulnerable. You can't defend it! And I am in attack. Of course I have not talked morality to you. You must admit in fairness that I have spared you that. Years ago you did a clever, unscrupulous thing; it turned out a great slIccess. You owe to it your fortune and position. And now you have got to pay for it. Sooner or later we have all to pay for what we do. You have to pay now. Before I leave you to-night, you have got to promise me to suppress your report, and to speak in the House in favour of this scheme.

146

Sir Rob e r t Chi I t ern: What you ask is impossible.

Mrs. C h eve ley: You must make it possible. You arc going to make it possible. Sir Robert, you know what your English newspapers are like. Suppose that when I leave this house I drive down to some newspaper office, and give them this scandal and the proofs of it! Think of their loathsome joy, of the delight they would have in dragging you down, of the mud and mire they would plunge you in. Think of the hypocrite with his greasy smile penning his leading article, and arranging the foulness of the public placard.

Sir Rob e r t Chi I t ern: Stop! You want me to withdraw the report and to make a short speech stating that I believe there are possibilities in the scheme?

.\\ r s. C h eve ley (sitting down on the sofa): Those are my terms.

Sir Rob e r t Chi I t ern (in a low voice): I will give you any sum of money you want.

Mrs. C h eve ley: Even you are not rich enough, Sir Robert, to buy back your past. No man is.


1. Note the structure of the excerpt, the role and the character of the author's remarks.

2. Note the blending of coIloquial and literary variants of language in the speech of the characters.

3. Pick out sentences of epigrammatic character in Mrs. Cheveley's speech and dweIl on the typical features of bourgeois society revealed in them.

4. Comment on the connotation of the word "gentleman" in Sir Chiltern's indignant speech: "You seem to be unable to realize that you are talking to an English gentleman".

5. Note the peculiar use of the verbs: "to buy", "to seIl", "to pay" in the speech of the characters. What insight into bourgeois society is given through manipulations with these words.

6. Discuss the EMs and SDs used by Mrs. Cheveley in her monologues. What insight into Mrs. Cheveley's character is given through U\e EMs and SDs she uses.

7. Speak on the SDs used by Mrs. Cheveley to characterise the English press.

8. Comment on the language used by Sir Robert Chil-

147

tern and Mrs. Cheveley and say how the author shows their characters through their speech.

9. Summing up the discussion of the scene speak on Wilde's exposure of the evils of bourgeois society.

SEAN O'CASEY HALL OF HEALING

The Doctor is of middle height, rather plump, and widening perceptibly around the belly. His face-half concealed now by a thick white wool muffler-is turning to a purplish tinge by hard drinking. His eyes are small and hard, his eyebrows thick and shaggy. Had he his black bowler hat off, it could be seen that he is bald, save for a few reddish-grey hairs brushed over the crown, in an effort, maybe, to hide a big expanse of polish skull. He is wearing a heavy brown topcoat; and his lower legs are encased in shining black leather leg· gings; a serviceable umbrella is in his left hand, a satchel in his right one. As he enters, he gives a sudden belch, and he ejaculates, as if to himself, but quite audibly: 'Jasus!' He catches sight of Red Muffler, and turns to Alleluia.

Doc tor: Who's That fella? What's that fella doin'? A I I e lui a: He's waitin' for you, sir. Doc tor: An' how'd he get in before the regulation

time? A I I e lui a: He just came in without by your leave

from a soul. I expostulated with him, but he wouldn't budge for no-one. Wouldn't budge an inch.

Doc tor: Then th' street door must have been open to let him in.

A I I e lui a (sliding to the left and to the right of Doctor, and back again): I left it open, sir, for a spessesscific purpose.

Doc tor: For a what? What d 'ye mean, man? A I I e lui a (again sliding to right and left, and arounJ

the Doctor so that the Doctor has to turn to follOOJ what he's saying): For you, sir; I didn't want you to be fouled with the weather an' you fussin' with th' key for th' keyhole.

Doc tor: (impatiently): Stop that buzzing round me; you make me giddy, man. I'm quite competent to find the keyhole without a fuss. Don't leave that door open again till the regulation time. If I've forgotten the key, I can ring, can't I? (As Alleluia is silent.) Damn it, I can ring, can't I?

1411

A I I e lUI a: Yis, yis; of course you can ring; 'course you can, sir.

Doc tor: And you're not deaf, man, as well ~s bothered, are you?

A I I e lui a: Me deaf? (With a dancing glide before the Doctor.) I'd hear the cuckoo before it came, sir.

Doc tor: Well, hear the surgery bell when it rings, for I'm not in a waiting mood today. How many are outside, d 'ye know?

A I I e lui a: I seen six or seven or eight, or maybe nine, when I peeped into the street.

Doc tor (sarcastically): Are you sure it wasn't ten, now? A II e lui a: It might ha' well been ten, for the sleet

was fallin' between me an' them. More than ten, maybe, sir. Doc tor: Well, you can get them in, and, mind you,

no delay when the bell rings. Immediately one enters, pop another at the edge of the surgery door to be ready when the bell sounds again.

A I I e lui a (doing another gliding dance to the right, to the left of the Doctor): On their tiptoes; ears cocked; tense with listen in " prepared to spring forward when they hear a tinkle.

Doc tor (thrusting the umbrella under his right arm, and gripping the shoulder of A lleluia with his left hand, which he uses to give him a shake.): Keep still, you rubbered image of desolation I When the bell gives two quick rings, it's you I want, not a patient. And listen: no gossiping while you're on du ty-d 'ye hear?

A I leI u i a: Gossip, is it? Me gossip? An' on duty? Aw, never I Th' only words I ever uses is expended on expostulations. Never fear, sir. I keep well within th' silences of devotion. Gossip on duty is not good company.

Doc tor (explosively): Aren't you always at it! Expostulations! Give your expostulations a rest today, and just shove them in to me.

A 1 I e lui a: You don't know them, doctor; if you did, you wouldn't wondher any. Not a one 0' them'lI budge without an expostulation.

Doc tor (wildly): Look here, if you don't learn to quit yourself better than you do, I'll complain to the Guardians, by God, I will! (He giVes a more violent and sickly belch.) Ooh, damn itl You're making me worse I If you have me yelling at you today, it'll be th' worse for you. Have you t he Surgery fire going well?

149

A I I e lui a (cheerfully-and beginning to slide about again): Yis, sir; oh, ay: it's a beauty; all aglow, an' most enticin'. I'd hurry in to it, an' get them damp things off you.

Doc tor: They're not dampl (Near a shout.) I came in a cabl •

A I I e lui a: An' a wise man you were, doctor, to do it. Doc tor (impatiently): Get them in, man, and get

them out! No dallying today.

He hurries towards the Surgery; Red Muffler rises again from the bench to meet him. A lleluia hurries out by the entrance door, and soon returns followed by the patients, sorrylooking men and women from the tenements. A lleluia stands at the entrance door ushering them in, and waving them to the benches. As they troop in, the organ is heard playing again, and the poor patients seem to fall in with the rhythm of the tune as they drag themselves to the benches.

Among them are Black Muffler; the old bentback woman; a Young Woman of twenty-three, who, behind her hand, gives an occasional dry, hard cough; Mr. Jentree, a man of fortyfive, dressed in a mode of faded respectability-bowler hat, black, somewhat discoloured; faded brown tweed coat, waistcoat, and trousers; stiff white collar and black tie; and a brown mackintosh. As he enters, his head is shaking, a strained look of anxiety disturbs his face which is fortified by a short beard and moustache. He walks uncertainly with the aid of a stick. He sits down between the Young Woman and the Old Woman. While seated, first his right leg, and then his left one, gives a sudden and spasmodic jerk, signifying a nervous disorder. Among them is Green Muffler, a man of about thirty-five, clad in the rough clothes of a labourer-corduroy trousers, old khaki coat from the remains of the first world war, thick coat of a faded dark blue, and a green muffler round his neck. When he enters, he looks nervously around him, as if askillg himself if it were well for him to be there. And when he sits down on the last bit of bench, he stretches his head forward to look at the posters. The other patients are but variants of the others in feature and colour of clothing.

Red M u f fie r (going in front of the Doctor before he gets to the Surgery door): Excuse me, sir; I wan t to ask you about our kid.

Doc.t 0 r (brusquely): What I; td? Sit down, sit down, man, and take your turn.

150

Red M u f fie r: I'm not ill meself, sir; I've only come about our little girl who's very bad.

Doc tor (impatiently): Sit down, sit down, till I'm ready for you. .

Red M u f fie r (speaking rapidly tor tear the Doctor would get away): You seen her a week ago, sir. She's worse, an' th' missus's afraid for her.

Doc tor (sharply and rapidly): Oh, sit down when you're told, manl

Red M u f fie r (submissively complying): Yes, sir.


t. Describe the place the scene is laid. 2. Speak of the character of the Caretaker, Aloysius,

nicknamed Alleluia. Comment on the use of the SD of antonomasia in this case.

3. Comment on the way the patients are described in the stage directions.

4. Discuss the SDs used by the author to distinguish the patients. Comment on the role of epithets.

5. Speak on the SDs of the names of the patients: "Red Muffler", "Green Muffler", "Black Muffler". For what purpose is the device used?

6. Speak of the character of the doctor revealed in stage directions. Say what SDs are used to describe him and to give an insight into his nature.

7. Point out the peculiarities of the characters' speech and state their functions.

8. Pick out the cases of periphrasis in the doctor's speech and comment on the function of this SD.

9. Speak on the language peculiarities and stylistic functions of stage directions and stage remarks.

10. Summing up your analysis say how the author gives an insight into the characters: a) through their description in the stage directions; b) through their own speech.

t 1. Discuss the author's satirical attitude to the problem and comment on the title of the play.

LIST OF STYLISTIC TERMS

A

alliteration (re,llta'reISn \ aJlJlHTepauHR

allusion la'lu:3an) eCblJlKa. a.1-JlI03HR

anadiplosis I,renadl'plousls\ aHi!.llHnJlOCHC, nO.llXBaT

anaphora (a'nrefara\ aHa$opa antithesis Iren'tI1ltsIZ\ aHTHTe3a,

npoTHBOnOCTaBJIeHHe antonomasia [,rentana'melzla\ aH- ..

TOHOMa3HR antonym ['rentantmJ aHTOHHM;

contextual antonym KOHTeK-cTyaJlbHblif aHTOHHM

apostrophe la'PJstrart\ anocTp<$. o6pameH He

aposiopesis [,repousa IOU 'pi :SIS \ an03Hone3HC. YMoJl'laHHe

archaism ('a:kellzm) apxaH3M asyndeton Ire' sind Itan \ 6eceolO3He

B

balance I 'brelans] nO.1Hblif napaJlJleJi H 3M; ba lanced constructions nOJlHblA napaJlJle.1H3M

ballad ('brelad \ 6aJlJla.lla barbarism I 'ba :bar Izm 1 BapBapH3M belles-lettres style ('bel 'Ietr

'sta I) 1 CTHJlb xY.llO>KeCTBeH-Hoil pe'lH

c chiasmus [kal'1Pzmas 1 XHa3M climax ('klallnreks\ HapacTaHHe colloquial lka')oukwlal] pa3ro-

BOPHbliI; colloquial speech pa3-rOBopHaR 'Pe'lb; colloquial words pa3roBopHaR JleKCHKa

152

contraction \ kan' trrekSn \ CTR-lKeHHe (Moe)

cumulation l,kJumju'lel!n\ npH' coe.llHHeHHe

D

dacti I [' drekttlJ .llaKTHJlb

E

ellipsis [J'llpsls] 9J1J1HnC

emotional ll'mou~anl\ 9MOUHOHaJlbHblA; emotional colouring 3MOUHOHaJlbHaR oKpacKa; ~otlonal meaning 3MOUHOHaJlbHOe 3Ha'leHHe

enjambment Im'd3remmant] nepeXO.llRmaR CTpOKa

enumeration \I,nju:ma 'relna)n J nepe'lHCJleHHe

epigram ['eplgrrem] ceHTeHUHH; epigrammatic sentence ceHTeHUHa

epithet ('epICetj 3nHTeT expressive means (EM) Ilks·

'preslvJ Bblpa3HTCJlbHOe epe.llCTBO

F

framing ('frelmIO] 06paMJleHHe foot (fu:t] eTona

G

graphic means I'grll'flk] rpa4lH'IecKHe Cpe.llcTBa

H

hexametre(-ter) Ihek'sremlt;)1 reK-3aMerp (UU!CffWCnwnHblu cmuxom(JOPHblU PCl3Mep)

hyperbole Ihal'p;):b;)ltl rHnep6o.1a

iambus [al'lEmb;)s) RM6 Image I' 1m Id~ 1 oopa3 imagery I 'Imld~;)rtl o6pa3HocTb Implication [,lmplt'kelSnl no)l.-

TeKCT, HMnJlHKaUHR Interjection [, mb(:)' d~ekSn 1 Me>i<

AOMeTHe inversion [m 'v;):Sn) HHBepcHR Irony l'al;)r;)llIl HpOHHR

L

literary words I'ltt;)f;)rll JlHTepa· TypHaR JleKCHKa

litotes l'lalbti:z) JlHTOra loca I colouring ('louk;)11 MeCT-

Hblii (JloKaJlbHblii) KOJlOPHT

M

macrocontext ('mlEkr;)'kJntekst) MaKpOKOHTeKCT

metaphor I' met;)f;) 1 MeTaq,opa; prolonged metaphor pacnpocTpaHeHHaR Meraq,opa

metonymy (ml'bntmtl MerOHH· MHR

microcontext I'malkrou 'kJntekst) MHKpoKoHreKcT

N

neologism [nt(:)'JI;)dSlzm) Heo· JlOrH3M

o octave (':>khv) OKTaBa, BOCbMH·

CTHWHe onomatopoeia I,JnoumlEtou'p la)

3BYKono,npa>KaHHe r ottava rima (;)'ta:v;) 'ri:m;))

HTaJlbRHCKaR OKTaBa oxymoron [,:>ksl'mJ:rJl1) OKCIOMO

POH

p

paragraph ['FlEr;)'Zra:f 1 a63au parallelism 'plEr;)laltzm) napaJl'

Jle.rtH3N; partia I para lie \ism napaJlJlCJlH3M qaCrHqHblii

pen tarnetre( -ter) [pen' tlEm It;) ) neHTaMerp (flJIITZt/cnwnHbUl cmu· XOmsOPHblU pa3Mep)

periphrasis Ip;)'rlfr;)sls) nepH<ppa3 personification [P;) ,s:>n 1ft 'kelj'n)

OJlHueTBopeHHe polysyndeton (,p:>It'smd;)t;)n) MHO·

rOCOI03He, nOJlHCHHAerOH predictability. Ipre,dlkt;)'bllltt)

npeAcKa3yeMocTb pyrrhic I'ptrlk) nHppHxHH

Q

quatrain l'kwJtrem) qeTBepocTH· WHe

R

repeti tion (, rep I' t IS n ) nOBTop; anaphoric repetition aHa<p0-pHqeCKHii nOBTop; root repetition KopHeBoii nOBTop; catchword repetition no,nXBaT

represented speech [,reprl 'zen-tid) Hec06cTBeHHo-npRMaR pe%

rhyme (ralm) PH<pMa; broken rhyme ['broukn) cocraBHaR PH<pMa; couplet rhyme ['kJ\pllt) napHaR PH<pMa; cross rhyme I kr:>s) nepeKpecrHaR p H<pMa; feminine rhyme ['femmm) >KeHCKaR pH<pMa; mascu line rhyme ('ma:skjulm) MY>KCKaR PH<pMa; ring rhyme (rIO) KOJlbueBaH PH<pMa

rhyming scheme ('ralmlO 'ski:m) cxeMa ~H4IMOBKH

rhythm I rto;)m) pHTM rhythmic modifiers ('rtllm Ik

'm:>dlfal;)z) MOAH<pHKaTopbl PHTMa

refrain (rt'frem) npHneB, re<t>peH run-on-Iine ('rAn ;)n 'lam nepe

xOARw.aR CTpOKa

15S

s ...,.~ l'1Il:krzmJ capK831l .. tire I'.taaa J caTJIpa satet lses'tet) ceKCTeT, WecTJlCTR

wile simile I's.mlll J XYAoa:ecnselUloe

CpaBHeIUle IOIUIet l'S;)nI t J COKeT spondee l'ay.mdJj CDOKAeIi stanza I'a~ J crpocIIa; 5penIer.

ian ltanza Cneacepoaa crpOllla stylistic deYlce (SD) (stal'hstlkJ

crH..1HCTII'lecKIlA npReli (CD); tenuine SD l'd3enjulDJ o.,RrRHaJlbHblli cn; lrite SD (trait) crepTblli cn

IUtpeI1Ie I SiMI'pens] pe1apAa&Ultl synonym I 'ilnanun J CBBOIIJDI;

contotaal synonJIII KOBTeltcrYaJlbHblli CBHOBH ..

T

tGplc 1m teac.e I' bp Ik J DpeA-10"A(eBBe, BblPaaamDlee OCBOBHYIO MWc..1b a63a1l.ll

trochee J'troukl] xopd

.."

u .npredic .. bmty (,Anprachkb-

'billh] HeDpeAclulayeMOCTlo u tteranee I 'A br.»RI ] BWCKUYBa·

HBe

v yft'le I n:s] ncn3HR, CTBXII, ac

cented Vine lek'senhd J TOHR'lttKoe C1'RXOCJloa:eaBe; bla_ verse (bllqk] C5eJ1wl CTBX; clu.Ieal verse ('klallcal] UaccB'IecKRII CTn; free verse Uri:) ao..'bHblA CTRX; syl""'acunted verse ISI'lrbou rk'senhdJ CllJUla60-TOHH'lecKoe CTHlI:OCJIo-

)KeHMe

z zeug .... J'zju:gmaJ leB .... a

BIBLIOGRAPHY

BUHDapaOO8 B. B. CTHnUCTHKa, TeopHH n03THlfecKoll pelfH, n03THKa. M., 1963.

JlOfJ1.MaH /0. M. AHanH3 003THlfecaOro reKCTa 11., 1972. CmenaHD8 /0. C. <f)paHUY3CXas CTRJIHCTHKa. M., 1965. Akhmanova, O. (ed.) Linguostylistics. Theory and Method. MGU.

M., 1972 Diakonova, N. Three Centuries of English Poetry. L., 1967. Galperin, I. Stylistics. M., 1971. Galperin, I. An Essay in Stylistic Analysis. M., 1968. Kukharenko, V. Seminar in Style. M.., 1971. Halliday, M. A. K. The Linguistic Study of Literary Texts. Pro·

ceedlngs of the Ninth International Congress of Linguistics. Ed. by Horace G. Lunt. The Hague, 1964.

Hill, Archibald A. Poetry and Stylistics. Essays in Literary Ana· lysis. Austin, 1965. •

RiffaJerre, M. Stylistic Context. Word. 1960, Vol. 16, No.2.

EJleHiI reOprHeBHa COWanbCK3R

Bepa HBaliOBHa npOXOpOBa

CTHnHCTH4ECKHA AHAnH3

(HO oH2Au,lcICoM RSI>IlCe)

PeA8KTOp A. H. MHpoHoBa H3A8TenbCKHA peA8KTOp E. B. KOMapoB8

XYAOIKHHK B. A. nY38HKOB XYAolKeCTBeHHYA peA8KTop 3. A. MapltoB TexHH'IecKRA peAaKTOp A. K. HecrePOB8

KoppeKTopy n. A. BepH8AcKaR H H. A. KaAlllapAY30Ba

CURO B H860p 15/IX·75 r. nOAn. K ne'l8T11 2O/IV·76 r CIIOPM8T 84XI08I/u- BYM. THn. HI 2. O&beM 4,875 ne'!, n. Yen. n. n. 8.19.

Y'I.'H3A. n. 9,02. H3A. No A·437. TRP8111 15000 'K3. UeR8 32 Kon. 38K. 2896. nnaH BynYCK8 .1HTepBTYpy AnR ByaoB R TeXRHKYMOB

H3ABTenbCTB8 cBYCW8R WKona. H8 1976 r. n03HItH. Nt 193. MocKBa, K·51, HernRHH8R yn., A. 29/14,

H3A8TenbcTBo cBYCW8R WKon8_

OpAeH8 TpYAoBOro KpacHoro 3H8MeHH MocKo II THnorpacj)HR No 7 cHCKP8 pellOJlmllBII-

'\

cCo OJIwrpscj)npoMu npH focYD.apCTBeRBOM Kb TeTe CoBeTS MHIIHCYPOB cce, no AU ••

• H3 enbCTlJ, nonHrpa4lHH H KHHIIIHOIl TOproMII. I J A ~KB8, f·19, nep. AXC8Kon. 13.

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