山大研究生招生信息网-湖北省会计学会网

北京外国语大学
2002年硕士研究生入学考试
英美文学专业试题

The following exam will be graded on both what you say and how you say
it. All answers must be written on the answer sheets.

I. Below are some terms that you might overhear literary critics say at a
cocktail party in the English Department at BFSU. Explain SIX of them.
(30 points)

1. ballad
2. Calvinism
3. dramatic irony
4. epic
5. metaphysical conceit
6. Oedipus complex
7. round character
8. transcendentalism

II. 1. Summarize the plot of the following story in your own words
(around 200 words). (20 points)
2. Comment on the narrative technique of the story. (20 points)

Continuity of Parks

He had begun to read the novel a few days before. He had put it down
because of some urgent business conferences, opened it again on his way
back to the estate by train; he permitted himself a slowly growing interest in
the plot, in the characterizations. That afternoon, after writing a letter giving
his power of attorney and discussing a matter of joint ownership with the
manager of his estate, he returned to the book in the tranquility of his study
which looked out upon the park with its oaks. Sprawled in his favorite
armchair, its back toward the door-even the possibility of an intrusion would
have irritated him, had he thought of it- he let his left hand caress repeatedly
the green velvet upholstery and set to reading the final chapters. He
remembered effortlessly the names and his mental images of the characters;

the novel spread its glamour over him almost at once. He tasted the almost
perverse pleasure of disengaging himself line by line from the things around
him, and at the same time feeling his head rest comfortably on the green
velvet of the chair with its high back, sensing that the cigarettes rested within
reach of his hand, that beyond the great windows the air of afternoon danced
under the oak trees in the park. Word by word, licked to the point where the
images settled sown and took on color and movement, he was witness to the
final encounter in the mountain cabin. The woman arrived first, apprehensive;
now the lover came in, his face cut by the backlash of a branch. Admirably,
she stanched the blood with her kisses, but he rebuffed her caresses, he had
not come to perform again the ceremonies of a secret passion, protected by a
world of dry leaves and furtive paths through the forest. The dagger warmed
itself against his chest, and underneath liberty pounded, hidden close. A
lustful, panting dialogue raced down the pages like a rivulet of snakes, and
one felt it had all been decided from eternity. Even to those caresses which
writhed about the lover’s body, as though wishing to keep him there, to
dissuade him from it; they sketched abominably the frame of that other body
it was necessary to destroy. Nothing had been forgotten: alibis, unforeseen
hazards, possible mistakes. From this hour on, each instant had its use
minutely assigned. The cold-blooded, twice- gone-over re-examination of the
details was barely broken off so that a hand could caress a cheek. It was
beginning to get dark.
Not looking at one another now, rigidly fixed upon the task which
awaited them, they separated at the cabin door. She was to follow the trail
that led north. On the path leading in the opposite direction, he turned for a
moment to watch her running, her loosened and flying. He ran in turn,
crouching among the trees and hedges until, in the yellowish fog of dusk, he
could distinguish the avenue of trees which led up to the house. The dogs
were not supposed to bark, they did not bark. The estate manager would not
be there at this hour, and he was not there. He went up the three porch steps
and entered. The woman’s words reached him over the thudding of blood in
his ears: first a blue chamber, than a hall, then a carpeted stairway. At the top,
two doors. No one in the first room, no one in the second. The door of the
salon, and then, the knife in hand, the light from the great windows, the high
back of an armchair covered in green velvet, the head of the man in the chair
reading a novel.
Ш. The following is an excerpt from one of John Fowles’s novels. What

does the passage say about the novel? (30points)

You may think novelists always have fixed plans to which they work, so
that the future predicted by Chapter One is always inexorably the actuality of
Chapter Thirteen. But novelists write for countless different reasons: for
money, for fame, for reviewers, for parents, for friends, for loved ones; for
vanity, for pride, for curiosity, for amusement; as skilled furniture makers
enjoy making furniture, as drunkards like drinking, as judges like judging, as
Sicilians like emptying a shotgun into an enemy’s back. I could fill a book
with reasons, and they would all be true, though not true of all. Only one
same reason is shared by all of us: we wish to create worlds as real as, but
other than the world that is. Or was. This is why we cannot plan. We know a
world is an organism, not a machine; a planned world (a word that fully
reveals its planning) is a dead world. It is only when our characters and
events begin to disobey us that they begin to live. When Charles left Sarah on
her cliff edge, I ordered him to walk Straight back to Lyme Regis. But he did
not; he gratuitously turned and went down to the Dairy.
Oh, but you say, come on-what I really mean is that the idea crossed my
mind as I wrote that it might be more clever one have him stop and drink
milk…and meet Sarah again. That is certainly one explanation to what
happened; but I can only report-I am the most reliable witness- that the idea
seemed to me to come clearly from Charles, not myself. It is not only that he
has begun to gain autonomy; I must respect it, and disrespect all my quasi-
diving plans for him, if I wish him to be real.
In other words, to be free myself, I must give him, and Tina, and Sarah,
even the abominable Mrs. Poultney, their freedom as well. There is only one
good definition of God; the freedom that allows other freedoms to exist. And
I must conform to that definition.
The novelist is still a god, since he creates (and not even the most aleatory
avant-garde modern novel has managed to extirpate its author completely);
what has changed is that we are no longer the gods of the Victorian image,
omniscient and decreeing; but in the new theological image, with freedom
our first principle, not authority.

This is the end of the exam.

北京外国语大学2002年硕士研究生入学考试英美文学专业试题参考答案
I. The following exam will be graded on both what you say and how you say
it. All answers must be written on the answer sheets.

I. Below are some terms that you might overhear literary critics say at a
cocktail party in the English Department at BFSU. Explain SIX of them.
(30 points)

1. ballad
Ballad is a narrative poem, usually simple and fairly short, originally
designed to be sung. Ballads often begin abruptly, imply the previous action,
utilize simple language, tell the story tersely through dialogue and described
action, and make use of refrains. The folk ballad, which reached its height in
Britain in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, was composed
anonymously and handed down orally, often in several different versions.
The literary ballad, consciously created by a poet in imitation of the folk
ballad, makes use (sometimes with considerable freedom) of many of its
devices and conventions. Coleridge’s “Rime of the Ancient Mariner”, Keats’s
“La Belle Dame sans Merci”, and Wilde’s “Ballad of Reading Gaol” are all
literary ballads.
2. Calvinism
Calvinism is the doctrine of John Calvin, the great French theologian
who lived in Geneva. It’s doctrine of predestination, original sin and total
depravity, and limited atonement (or the salvation of a selected few) through
a special infusion of grace from god.
3. dramatic irony
Dramatic (or tragic irony) depends on the structure of the play more than
on the actual words of the characters. An extraordinary example of sustained
dramatic irony is Sophocles’ Oedipus Rex, in which Oedipus seeks
throughout the play for the murderer of Laius, the former king of Thebes,
only to find that he himself is the guilty one. The term dramatic irony is also
used to describe the situation which arises when a character in a play speaks
lines which are understood in a double sense by the audience though not by
the characters onstage. When Brabantio warns Othello against being betrayed
by Desdemona, the Moor replies, “My life upon her faith.” For an audience
who knows the story, Othello’s remark presages the tragedy to come.

4. epic
Epic is a long narrative poem in which action, characters, and language
are on a heroic level and style is exalted and majestic. Basically, there are two
kinds of epic: (a) primary-also known as oral or primitive, (b) secondary-also
known as literary. The first belongs to the oral tradition and is thus composed
orally and recited; only much later, in some cases, is it written down. The
second is written down at the start. Major characteristics of an epic are 1) a
vast setting remote in time and place, 2) a noble and dignified objective, 3) a
simple plot, 4) a central incident (or series of incidents) dealing with
legendary material, 5) a theme involving universal human problems, 6) a
towering hero of great stature, 7) superhuman strength of body, character, or
mind, 8) supernatural forces such as gods, angels, and demons, intervening
from time to time. Among noted epics are Homer’s the Iliad and the Odyssey,
the Old English Beowulf, Milton’s Paradise Lost, and Longfellow’s
Hiawatha. Sometimes Whitman’s long poem Leaves of Grass is also called
an epic.
5. metaphysical conceit
Conceit means concept, idea and conception. As a literary term this
word has come to denote a fairly elaborate figurative device of a fanciful kind
which often incorporates metaphor, simile, hyperbole or oxymoron and
which is intended to surprise and delight by its wits and ingenuity. The
pleasure we get from many conceits is intellectual rather than sensuous. The
Metaphysical conceit, characteristic of Donne and other Metaphysical poets
of the seventeenth century, is a comparison, often elaborate, extended, or
startling, between objects which are apparently dissimilar, e.g. John Donne’s
comparison of two souls with two bullets in “The Dissolution” and that of
two lovers with compasses.
6. Oedipus complex
It is a Freudian term, drawn from the myth of Oedipus who without
knowing the truth married his mother. The term designates attraction on the
part of the child toward the parent of the opposite sex and rivalry and
hostility toward the parent of its own. It occurs during the phallic stage of the
psychosexual development of the personality, approximately years three to
five. Resolution of the Oedipus complex is believed to occur by identification
with the parent of the same sex and by the renunciation of sexual interest in
the parent of the opposite sex. Freud considered this complex the cornerstone
of the superego and the nucleus of all human relationships.

7. round character
This is a term first used by E. M. Forster to designate a character drawn
with sufficient complexity to be able to be recognizable, understandable, and
different from all others appearing in the same selection. A round character
must, according to Forster, be capable of surprising a reader “in a convincing
way.” Complexity of characterization, moreover, must be accompanied by an
organization of traits or qualities. The round character is opposite to flat
character whose personal traits can be summed up in one or two points. In
Shakespeare’s Henry IV the Prince changes and develops, and he is a round
character.
8. transcendentalism
Transcendentalism is a New England movement which flourished
from about 1835 to 1860. It had its roots in romanticism and in post-Kantian
idealism by which Coleridge was influenced. It had a considerable influence
on American art and literature. Basically religious, it emphasized the role and
importance of the individual conscience, and the value of intuition in matters
of moral guidance and inspiration. The actual term was coined by opponents
of the movement, but accepted by its members (e.g. Ralph Waldo Emerson,
1803-82, one of the leaders, published The Transcendentalist in 1841). The
group of people was also social reformers. Some of the members, besides
Emerson, were famous, including Bronson Alcott, Henry David Thoreau and
Nathaniel Hawthorne.

II. 1. Summarize the plot of the following story in your own words
(around 200 words). (20 points)
2. Comment on the narrative technique of the story. (20 points)

Continuity of Parks

He had begun to read the novel a few days before. He had put it down
because of some urgent business conferences, opened it again on his way
back to the estate by train; he permitted himself a slowly growing interest in
the plot, in the characterizations. That afternoon, after writing a letter giving
his power of attorney and discussing a matter of joint ownership with the
manager of his estate, he returned to the book in the tranquility of his study
which looked out upon the park with its oaks. Sprawled in his favorite
armchair, its back toward the door-even the possibility of an intrusion would

have irritated him, had he thought of it-he let his left hand caress repeatedly
the green velvet upholstery and set to reading the final chapters. He
remembered effortlessly the names and his mental images of the characters;
the novel spread its glamour over him almost at once. He tasted the almost
perverse pleasure of disengaging himself line by line from the things around
him, and at the same time feeling his head rest comfortably on the green
velvet of the chair with its high back, sensing that the cigarettes rested within
reach of his hand, that beyond the great windows the air of afternoon danced
under the oak trees in the park. Word by word, licked to the point where the
images settled sown and took on color and movement, he was witness to the
final encounter in the mountain cabin. The woman arrived first, apprehensive;
now the lover came in, his face cut by the backlash of a branch. Admirably,
she stanched the blood with her kisses, but he rebuffed her caresses, he had
not come to perform again the ceremonies of a secret passion, protected by a
world of dry leaves and furtive paths through the forest. The dagger warmed
itself against his chest, and underneath liberty pounded, hidden close. A
lustful, panting dialogue raced down the pages like a rivulet of snakes, and
one felt it had all been decided from eternity. Even to those caresses which
writhed about the lover’s body, as though wishing to keep him there, to
dissuade him from it; they sketched abominably the frame of that other body
it was necessary to destroy. Nothing had been forgotten: alibis, unforeseen
hazards, possible mistakes. From this hour on, each instant had its use
minutely assigned. The cold-blooded, twice- gone-over re-examination of the
details was barely broken off so that a hand could caress a cheek. It was
beginning to get dark.
Not looking at one another now, rigidly fixed upon the task which
awaited them, they separated at the cabin door. She was to follow the trail
that led north. On the path leading in the opposite direction, he turned for a
moment to watch her running, her loosened and flying. He ran in turn,
crouching among the trees and hedges until, in the yellowish fog of dusk, he
could distinguish the avenue of trees which led up to the house. The dogs
were not supposed to bark, they did not bark. The estate manager would not
be there at this hour, and he was not there. He went up the three porch steps
and entered. The woman’s words reached him over the thudding of blood in
his ears: first a blue chamber, than a hall, then a carpeted stairway. At the top,
two doors. No one in the first room, no one in the second. The door of the
salon, and then, the knife in hand, the light from the great windows, the high

back of an armchair covered in green velvet, the head of the man in the chair
reading a novel.
参考答案：
1. Having gone through his business, the protagonist, a landowner sat
down in his favorite armchair in the study and became immersed in his
unfinished novel. The novel was about a murder in which two lovers
conspired to kill a landowner. The two lovers met secretly in the forest to
make a careful plan. They were both anxious and excited, yet they went
through their scheme twice in quite a cold-blooded way. They took every
possibility into consideration, including alibis, unforeseen hazards and
possible mistakes. Then they separated, the woman went one direction, while
the man went another one that led to the house of the landowner. With a
dagger hidden underneath his clothes, the man went near the house. Nothing
unexpected happened: the dogs didn’t bark and the estate manager was not in
the house at that moment. Following the woman’s instructions about the
arrangement of the house, the man succeeded in going through the house and
finding the landowner who was sitting in his armchair in the study reading a
novel.
2. An identified man enters a room, sits down in his favorite chair and
begins reading a novel about murder. The book follows another man as he
crosses a twilit park, encounters the gates of a large house, enters the house
and kills the man who sits reading the book. In such a story, the narrator
combines the reality with fantastic and dreamlike elements. He postulates
reality as a labyrinthine game and interweaves space and time into an
ambiguous yet revealing puzzle. The parallel times, simultaneity, the
dizzyingly labyrinthine structures of mind and memory are quite
distinguishable and remarkable. By using this kind of narrative technique, the
narrator perplexes the reader and makes the reader hard to identify what’s the
real and what’s the imaginative, what’s in the book the landowner is reading
and what is happening to himself.

Ш. The following is an excerpt from one of John Fowles’s novels. What
does the passage say about the novel? (30points)

You may think novelists always have fixed plans to which they work, so
that the future predicted by Chapter One is always inexorably the actuality of
Chapter Thirteen. But novelists write for countless different reasons: for

money, for fame, for reviewers, for parents, for friends, for loved ones; for
vanity, for pride, for curiosity, for amusement; as skilled furniture makers
enjoy making furniture, as drunkards like drinking, as judges like judging, as
Sicilians like emptying a shotgun into an enemy’s back. I could fill a book
with reasons, and they would all be true, though not true of all. Only one
same reason is shared by all of us: we wish to create worlds as real as, but
other than the world that is. Or was. This is why we cannot plan. We know a
world is an organism, not a machine; a planned world (a word that fully
reveals its planning) is a dead world. It is only when our characters and
events begin to disobey us that they begin to live. When Charles left Sarah on
her cliff edge, I ordered him to walk Straight back to Lyme Regis. But he did
not; he gratuitously turned and went down to the Dairy.
Oh, but you say, come on-what I really mean is that the idea crossed my
mind as I wrote that it might be more clever one have him stop and drink
milk…and meet Sarah again. That is certainly one explanation to what
happened; but Ican only report-I am the most reliable witness- that the idea
seemed to me to come clearly from Charles, not myself. It is not only that he
has begun to gain autonomy; I must respect it, and disrespect all my quasi-
diving plans for him, if I wish him to be real.
In other words, to be free myself, I must give him, and Tina, and Sarah,
even the abominable Mrs. Poultney, their freedom as well. There is only one
good definition of God; the freedom that allows other freedoms to exist. And
I must conform to that definition.
The novelist is still a god, since he creates (and not even the most aleatory
avant-garde modern novel has managed to extirpate its author completely);
what has changed is that we are no longer the gods of the Victorian image,
omniscient and decreeing; but in the new theological image, with freedom
our first principle, not authority.
参考答案：
From the excerpt, we can see Fowles advocates the freedom of
characters in the novel. He claims to give his characters independence by
letting them make decisions for themselves as a way of overcoming his own
prejudices. Different from the omniscient and decreeing novelist in the
Victorian Age, he is a new kind of textual God, with freedom as his first
principle, not authority. By giving the characters freedom, they can appear
more real and dynamic and thus attractive, as he puts it, “it is only when our
characters and events begin to disobey us that they begin to live.” Only in this

way, the writer can create a real and organic world.
At the same time, Fowles believes that the novelist should not be
thinking or intentionally creating a plot, but rather to let one unfold and
simply describe it. He makes it out to be as though authors have a peephole to
another dimension through which they watch and write down everything they
see, as he says, “but I can only report—and I am the most reliable witness”.