Text 1
Genius and the Craftsman
Many people admire writers
for their exquisite stories, but few of them know with
what painstaking efforts writers work to bring a story
into the world. The following essay discusses the process
of conceiving a story and developing it into a perfect
work of art.
Once on the edge of a woods
at twilight I came upon a small peach tree in flower.
I stayed there watching until the light was gone. I
saw nothing of the tree's origin, nothing of the might
which had forced open a pit you could break your teeth
on, and nothing of the principle which held it separate
from the oaks and the grasses. All that appeared to
me was a profound and eerie grace.
So it is with the reader
who comes upon an outstanding story: spellbound, he
takes it to his heart, no question asked.
But even the beginning
writer knows there is more to a story's life than the
body of words which carries it into the world, and that
it does not begin with writing, but with conception
in the dark of the mind.
It is not necessary to
understand the creative function in order to produce
original work. Centuries of art, philosophy and science
have emerged from the minds of people who may not even
have suspected the inner process. It seems to me, however,
that at least a degree of understanding of the creative
event increases our wisdom in dealing with the emerging
story by making us aware of two things.
First, genius is not the
exclusive property of the master craftsman; it is the
creative function of the human mind. There is no mastery
without it, and there is no person without it, however
undeveloped it may be. Mastery is genius afoot. It is
genius cultivated, developed, and exercised. Your genius
works at the level of origins; its business is to create;
it is the creator of your story.
Second, the body of words
that carries your story into the world is the work of
the craftsman's labor, which is as conscious, as canny,
and as practical as that of the bricklayer. While genius
is a natural part of our mental equipment, like perception,
memory, and imagination, craftsmanship is not. It must
be learned. It is learned by practice, and by practice
it is mastered. If the stories that rise within us are
to emerge and flourish, each must be provided with a
strong, handsome body of words, and only sound craftsmanship
can provide this.
How is a story conceived?
It is said that we write from the first twenty years
of our lives, perhaps from the first five; it may depend
on the individual, as so much does in writing. In any
case, the lucid impressions of childhood and early youth,
more or less unconditioned, unexplained, unchecked,
lie in the memory, live and timeless. Enigma, wonder,
fear, rapture, grandeur, and trivia in every degree
and combination, these early impressions throb and wait
for what? Completion of some kind? For recognition of
their own peculiar truth? It would seem their wounds
want lancing; their secret knowledge wants telling;
the discoveries would be shared, and woes admitted,
and the airy tracery of beauty given form.
Thus variously laden we
move through life, and now and then an experience, often
slight, prices the memory and seizes upon one of those
live, expectant impressions of long age, and a quickening1
takes place.
This happens to everyone
and more often than is known. But there are times when
it happens to the creative writer and causes him to
catch his breath because he knows that the seed of a
story has quickened and has begun a life of its own.
Like any seed, the seed
of a story has its own principle of growth which employs
a process of intelligent selection, drawing from the
unconscious mind's vast treasury of experience that
it needs to fulfill its inherent form: there come together
people and their ways, with weather and times and places,
and the souls of things. In short, there is produced
a world, complete with stars and stumbling blocks.
Thus "made in secret and
curiously wrought in the lowest parts of the earth,"
the story expands and rises, unhurried, until at last
it presents itself to the conscious mind. Here at the
threshold, vibrant with expectation, it awaits its body
of words.
Genius, the creative function,
has done its work. And only now does the craftsman,
the deliverer, begin his.
A story rarely, if ever,
presents itself as a whole. Robert Frost said that he
never knew where a poem was going when he began it.
Until I am almost upon it in a first draft, I do not
know a story's end, or even its point; and there are
times when only after two, three or more drafts will
the story come clearly into focus.
Years ago in the early
dawn of an October morning, I watched the tiny Sputnik2
cut its brief arc across the sky. Sometime later, a
story I knew to be gathering and rising presented itself:
An old man who had spent a lonely life in the depth
of the city retired to a house on a cove near the sea.
Overwhelmed by the beauty of the cove and the kindness
of his neighbors, he began to know the desperation of
those whose lives are almost over, and who, for one
reason or another, have never given, or even shared,
anything.
Knowing only this, I moved
swiftly into the first draft and wrote: "The people
of Pomeroy's Cove gave Mr. Paradee the sky. They gave
it all to him, from dawn to dawn with thunderheads and
flights of geese and the red moon rising."
What was I doing? I wrote
of a curious gift: there were more curious gifts to
come. I moved into the sky; later I would head toward
celestial traffic. I marveled, when I reached the end,
that I had not known the whole story from the first
paragraph: every word pointed the way. But not knowing,
why did I begin to write? What was I doing?
I was fulfilling two of
the craftsman's three functions: trust, and the second:
write. I was trusting in the inevitability of the story's
intelligence, its truth, whatever it might be; I was
trusting in its completeness, its form, whenever it
might emerge. By writing, I was allowing it, inviting
it to emerge: I was providing its vehicle. For how else
could it emerge?
Trust your genius. It is
your creative function and its business is to create.
Because it works at the level of origins, the story
it creates is original; it is yours alone. No one else
can know it or write it. That is a story's value, and
its only value. Respect your creative function; rely
on it to be intelligent: it is not a thing of random
impulse, but a working principle. Trust it, be glad
about it, and use it. That is the secret of cultivating
it, and the beginning of true ability.
Trust and write. Write
your story when you begin to feel its insistent pulse.
If you don't know it all, write as much as you know;
work respectively and patiently, and it will all come
to you presently. If you can't write well, write the
best you can, always the best, with all the intelligence
and clarity you can command at the moment. If you do
that, and persist in it, you will improve steadily.
The reason for this is that earnest work literally generates
intelligence. Consistent practice generates skill. And
to generate skill is the craftsman's third function.
Give every story, every
letter, every entry in your daily journal, if you keep
one, the best writing of which you are capable. Write
well. Write skillfully. Write beautifully, or write
superbly, if you can. Be watchful and objective about
what goes down on paper. Anything less than the degree
of excellence of which you are capable at any given
time is not craftsmanship. It is dabbling.
The beginning writer saves
time and effort by being prompt and businesslike about
finding a method of work which suits him. Look into
methods. We know that writing cannot be taught, that
it can only be learned. But common sense, the canny
handmaid of genius, tells us that practicing writers,
like practicing plumbers, politicians and goldsmiths,
who get the job done day in and day out, know what they
are talking about when they talk about work. Read them
and listen to them, and you will recognize in their
working habits many tendencies and impulses of your
own. You will see that they are not your private vagaries,
but in many cases unique and vital aspects of the writing
temperament, things in your favor that can work for
you.
I wrote four hours a day
for ten years before I was published. Working without
teachers and books on writing, I was a long time discovering
a method of work. Years later when a very fine teacher
remarked: "You know, a good story is not written, but
rewritten," I replied somewhat wistfully: " Yes, I
know. I wish someone had told me that long ago."
My way of dealing with
a story is simple and it works. When a story presents
itself and I catch a glimpse of what I have, I capture
it in a swift, skeletal draft. Presently perhaps the
next day, I rewrite from the very beginning, inevitably
adding more, filling out, and always treating the story
as a whole. I continue to rewrite at intervals, letting
it cool in between times, and rewrite as many times
as needed until the words seem to fit the story smoothly
and comfortably, always trying for a wording that clings
as wet silk clings, and always reaching for that mastery
which can fashion a body of words that is no more than
a filament3.
There is magic in intention.
When you work with the intention of excellence, no matter
how hard you work, it is never drudgery. No matter how
far short of the mark you fall, it is never failure
─ unless, of course, you are willing to stop there.
Rewriting it this way is not a chore, but an adventure
in skill.
When you treat the story
as a live, intelligent whole, rewriting is dynamic because
three things happen:
First, you gain a complete
knowledge of the story. You can scarcely believe how
little you know of your story in a first or second draft
until you reach the fourth or fifth. Layer upon layer
reveals itself; small things, at first unnoticed, expand
in importance; areas of vagueness or confusion become
sharp and clear. Things which slip past the eye in rereading
leap at you and demand attention. Such expert knowledge
of this one story gives you control; and control allows
you to do your best writing on that story because you
know what you are doing. To know one story thoroughly
prepares you for your knowledge of the next: you won't
puzzle and perhaps despair over a first draft, assuming
that, with all its imperfections, its haziness and poor
writing, it is the best you can do. You will rewrite
with confidence, knowing the story will certainly improve.
Second, you gain a facility
which no other exercise, no book, no teacher, however
knowledgeable, can possibly give you. In dealing again
and again with the same story problems and the same
writing problems, you learn to do things efficiently;
you learn new ways and, most important, you learn your
way. Rereading tends to condone errors in writing; rewriting
tends to reveal them. Self-conscious flamboyance shows
up for what it is; what you considered a clever understatement
is often revealed as an evasion of something difficult
to state, but which is vital to the story and worthy
of clarity. Your judgment and sensitivity sharpen as
you are forced to face, word by deadly word, the ill-written
ungainly passages. You cannot improve one sentence,
one paragraph without improving your skill. You begin
to see that mastery is no pipe dream, but
a possibility.
Third, rewriting is rewriting,
and writing is a writer's work. Reading, attending classes,
talking to working writers are all helpful activities,
but only if you work at writing. Rewriting provides
steady work with a distinct purpose, and that purpose
provides an ever-present reward: continually improving
skill. Work of this kind is habit-forming, and there
is nothing known to man that stimulates genius like
the habit of work.
Never impose a limit on
your ability, and never allow anyone else to. When working
with the intention of excellence becomes a habit with
you, you will understand that the masterpiece is not
a mystery and not an accident, but that it is the by-product
of a way of life.
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课文一
天才与工匠
许多人羡慕作家们的精彩小说,但却很少有人知道作家们是如何辛勤笔耕才使一篇小说问世的。以下的短文将讨论小说的酝酿过程,以及作家是如何将这小说雕琢成一件精致完美的艺术品的。
有一次,我在暮色中来到小树林边一棵鲜花盛开的小桃树前。我久久站在那里凝视着,直到最后一道光线消逝。我一点也看不到这棵树的初始模样,看不见曾穿透果核的力量,这力量能崩碎你的牙齿,也看不到使它不同于橡树和绿草的原则。呈现在我面前的,是一种深邃而神秘的魅力。
当读者读到一部杰出的小说时,他也会这样如痴如狂,欲将小说字字句句刻骨铭心,不提出任何问题。
但即使是个初学写作者也知道,除那将小说带到世上的文字之外,还有更多的构成小说生命的因素,小说的生命并不始于写作,而始于内心深处的构思。
要创作出有独创性的作品,并不要求懂得创造的功能。多少世纪以来的艺术、哲学及科学创造都出自那些也许从未想过去关注创造的内在过程的人们的头脑。然而,在我看来,对创造工作有一定程度的了解,至少会使我们通过了解两个事实,增长我们处理正在出现的故事的智慧。
首先,天赋不是掌握了技艺的艺术家独有的特性,而是人脑的创造性功能。不仅所有对技艺的掌握都含有天赋,而且每个人都具有天赋,无论他的天赋发展是何等不充分。对技艺的掌握是天赋的显现,是经过培养的,发展了的和受过训练的天赋。你的天赋在最原始的层面上起作用。它的任务就是创造。它是你的故事的创造者。
第二,将你的小说带进世界的文字是艺术家的工作,它就和一个泥瓦匠的工作一样,有意识、谨慎而实实在在。天赋正如理解力、记忆力和想象力一样是我们的精神禀赋中的天然部分,而技艺却不是。它必须通过实践才能学到,并要通过实践才能掌握。如果要使在我们内心深处浮现的故事跃然纸上,光彩照人,那么,每个故事都须有感染力极强的优雅文笔。只有健全的技艺才能使我们做到这一点。
一个故事是如何酝酿成的呢?据说,我们从一生中的前20年,或许前五年起就开始写作。这可能取决于个人,而写作中的很多事都取决于个人。无论如何,童年和少年时期的清晰印象,或多或少无条件地存在于我们的记忆中,未被解释,不受约束,而且栩栩如生,永不磨灭。困惑、徬徨、畏惧、喜悦、辉煌和平庸,在各种程度上以各种形式组合在一起。这些对往事的印象在心中悸动着。它们在等待什么?是在等待某种圆满?还是对它们特有的真理的认可?似乎它们的创伤需要切开,隐秘的见解需要表露,发现需要与人分享,苦恼需要承认,这种飘渺的美需要形式。
我们就这样背负着各种任务度过一生。时而,常常是一个小小的体验,撬开了记忆之门,抓住了这些虽已年代久远,却依然栩栩如生,呼之欲出的印象。于是,故事就如种子一般开始萌动。
这种经历人人都有,却鲜为人知。然而,一旦富有创造力的作家有了这种感受,他就会凝神屏息,专注于此,因为他知道这时故事的种子已经萌发并开始了它自己的生命之旅。
就像任何一颗种子,故事的种子有它自己的生长规律,要经过作家对记忆中的素材进行精心筛选,从潜意识博大精深的阅历宝库中提取能够使故事实现其内在形式的素材。于是,各种人物,他们的处世风格、气候、时间、地点及各种事物的精髓,都聚集起来。简而言之,一个世界产生了,有灿烂的星辰,也有形形色色的障碍。
故事就是这样在“隐秘中构思,在思想土壤的最深处神秘地形成,”并不断地缓缓扩展、生长,直到它最终在意识中显现。就在这意识的门槛上,故事带着希冀的颤栗等待它的文字整体的形成。
天赋--这一创造的功能现已完成了它的使命。只是到这时,工匠,这位故事的助产士才开始他的工作。
故事很少能够完整地呈现,即使有这样的情况,也是罕见的。罗伯特·弗洛斯特说过,他开始作诗时从不知道这诗最终会是什么样。而我往往在小说的第一稿几乎完成时才恍然大悟,意识到小说该怎样结尾,或它的中心思想是什么。有时甚至在写完第二、第三稿,甚至更多稿之后小说才呈现出清晰的轮廓。
多年以前,10月的一个凌晨时分,我遥望小小的人造卫星划出一道弧线匆匆掠过星空。又过了一段时间,我心中一直萌动的故事呈现出来:一位老人一生在都市中心过着寂寞生活,退休后隐居到一个小海湾边的房子里。他为那地方的美景和邻人的善良而激动不已,开始感受到那些生活道路将要走尽,由于某种原因从未付出或从未与人分享过任何东西的人们的绝望。
尽管当时心里朦朦胧胧仅有这点感受,我立刻着手第一稿,写道:“波米洛依湾的人们将蓝天奉献给了帕拉蒂先生。他们将这一切全给了他,每个黎明,一片片雷雨云、一群群飞翔的野鹅和冉冉升起的红色月亮。”
当时我在干什么?我在描绘一种奇怪的才能:而且还有更多奇怪的才能。接着我升上高空;尔后飞向运行中的万千星辰。当我写到小说的结尾时,我不禁感到诧异,我开始写第一段时居然对整个小说毫无了解:每一个字都指出方向。然而,我浑然不知,我为什么动笔写作?我在干什么?
我是在实施工匠的三个功能中的两个:信赖,第二:写作。不论我的小说会是什么样,我坚信小说的灵性,它的真实性;不论它可能在何时显现,我都坚信它的完整性和它的形式。在写作中我听任它发展,迎候它的显现。我在为它的显现提供载体,否则它又怎能显现呢?
信赖你的天赋吧,它是你的创造性功能,它的任务就是创造。因为它在最原始的层面上起作用,因此,它所创造的小说是独一无二的。这故事完全是你自己的。没其他人能了解它,也没人能写出它。这就是一个小说的价值,唯一的价值。尊重你的创造性功能,依靠它获得智慧:它不是盲目冲动的产物,而是工作的原则。信赖它,为它感到欣喜,运用它。这正是培养天赋的奥秘所在,也是真正能力的开端。
信赖并着手写作。当你开始感到小说急不可待的脉动时,就动笔写作。如果你对它并不完全了解,就尽你所知去写。逐个地写你所知道的那部分,要有耐心,不久你就会完全知道你所写的是什么。假如你写得不好,那就尽你所能去写。务必竭尽全力,以你当时所能驾驭的全部智慧努力写得明白清晰。如果能这样做并坚持不懈,你一定能稳步提高。因为认真踏实的工作可以真正发展智力。不懈的实践可以真正形成技能,而形成技能就是工匠的第三个功能。
以你最好的文笔尽你所能写每一个故事,每一封信,如果你写日记的话,要这样在日记中记每一件事。要写好。要写得有技巧。要写得优雅,如果你能够的话,要写得完美。对任何成文的材料都应力求谨慎、真实。任何低于当时你所能达到的完美程度的文字都谈不上是技艺,而是浅尝輒止的儿戏。
初事写作者总是力图尽量快捷、高效地找到适合他的写作方法,以求省时省力。谈起方法,我们都知道写作不是教会的,而是学会的。但是常识——天赋的狡诘的侍女却告诉我们,实际从事写作者像日复一日干着同一工作的管子工、从政者和金银首饰匠一样,谈起他们的工作都很在行。读作家们所写的书,听作家们所说的话,你就可以发现他们的工作习惯中有许多与自己相同的偏爱和冲动。你会发现这些不仅是你自己独有的癖好,而往往是从事写作者的性情中特有的,极其重要的几种癖性。它们对你有利,可以为你所用。
我每天写作四小时,一连写了10年之后,才发表作品。在写作过程中,我没有老师指导,也没有写作的书籍可供参考。我花了很长时间才发现了一种写作方法。多年之后,一位十分优秀的教师说:“要知道,好小说不是写成的而是改成的。”当时,我沉思着回答说:“是啊!我明白。但愿早就有人告诉我。”
我处理小说的方法简单而行之有效。当一个故事在我脑海中呈现出来,当我朦胧地感觉到它的显现,就迅速将它草拟成一个提纲。不久,也许就在次日,我就通篇重写,这一次不可避免地会加进更多内容并填补很多缺漏。我总是对小说进行整体处理。每隔一段时间我就继续重写,再将其搁在一边冷却一段时间,然后根据需要反复重写,直到文字流畅、妥贴。我总是试图用词准确,贴切,就像将湿绸缎紧裹在身上那样,努力使文字简明练达。
目的是有魔力的。当你以追求卓越为目的而写作时,无论你的工作如何艰辛,它绝不会单调乏味。不论你的工作成果如何不如人意,只要你不愿裹足不前就绝不是失败。以这种方式重写不是乏味的苦工而是技艺上的探索。
如果你将小说当作活生生、有灵性的整体来对待,修改就有活力,因为在此过程中有三件事同时发生:
第一,你达到了对整个故事的完全了解。你几乎不能相信,在写第一、第二稿时,你对这个故事的了解是何等不足,直到第四第五稿,你才能领悟到这一点。它一层层地显示出来;起先不受关注的小事件渐渐变得重要;含混处变得清晰。在反复阅读的过程中被忽略的事物向你跳跃,以引起注意。对这个故事的彻底理解给了你控制力,而这种控制力使你能将故事写到最好。因为你知道你在做什么。彻底了解一个故事也为你了解下一个故事做好了充分的准备。你在写它的第一稿时就不会再感到困惑或束手无策。尽管还会有种种缺憾,内容模糊不清或行文粗劣,你仍可以认为这是你写的最好的东西。你会自信地去修改,确信它会逐步完善,
第二,你取得了一种其它任何练习、书籍乃至知识渊博的老师都不能给你的技能。在一次又一次解决情节问题、写作问题的过程中,你学会了如何高效地工作;你学习了新的方法,而最重要的是,你获得了自己的方法。重读往往宽容写作中的错误,而重写则往往揭示出错误。不自然地过分炫耀词藻,常常在重写时暴露无遗;你自认为机智含蓄的东西,往往是对难以表述的问题的故意回避。而这些问题对于故事而言,恰恰是至关重要而务必清晰表述的。你的判断力和敏感性,由于你被迫面对那一个个枯燥乏味的字眼和粗劣笨拙的段落而变得敏锐起来。每改进一个句子、一个段落,你都在提高你的技能。渐渐地,你会看到追求卓越并非空泛的梦想,而是一种可能。
第三,修改是修改,作家的工作是写作。阅读、听课、与专事写作的作家们交谈都是极为有益的,但它们只在你致力于写作时才有帮助。修改为脚踏实地的写作指明了目标,而这一目标会给予你终身受益的回报,即不断提高的技能。修改有助于形成习惯,而世上再也没有比工作的习惯更能激发才智的了。
绝不要给你的能力强加任何限制,也绝不允许任何人这样做。一旦力求完美成为你的习惯,你就会领悟到杰作并不神秘,也绝非偶然,而是一种生活方式的结果。
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Text 2
Reading: Basic Principles
First principle: Reading is complex, and it involves
thinking
Reading is an interrelationship of several skills. It
is a thoughtful, conscious though seemingly automatic, integrated process
somewhat like that of walking, skiing, riding a bicycle, swimming, or
driving a car. Discovering clusters of meaning from clusters of printed
or written symbols requires a coordinated effort. And like the other
processes mentioned, it involves adjusting one's performance to prevailing
conditions, not a condition; there are things to do together, not one
thing to do at a time. As with these other processes, reading may be
done in any way that pleases the doer. The skillful reader, like the
skillful swimmer or driver, develops confidence, flow, rhythm, coordination,
and flexibility with experience.
As a thinking process, reading goes beyond the decoding
of symbols to integrating and applying the meaning of these symbols.
It goes as far as discovering what an author is thinking, and then discovering
one's own thinking in the process. This kind of thinking prompts many
questions about what is read. In a short story, play, or novel, a reader
realizes that he must not only ask, "What happened?" but also "Why did
this happen?" and "What does this have to do with the character's problem?"
As a result of asking questions of these kinds, the reader may not only
understand the theme of the work, but may wonder what that idea has
to do with his own life. Literal or concrete reading leads to critical
reading, and critical reading leads to creative reading.
Thinking readers are participating readers. As such,
they have purposes and assume active roles. They try to discover who
is speaking in literature, and they listen attentively to that voice,
but they also assume their own postures and voices in responding. As
they open their minds to the art and ideas of an especially skillful
writer, they probe, question, grasp, pull back, reconsider, and probe
again.
Second principle: Reading rate is adjustable
Rapid reading, or "speed reading", as some people call
it, has become almost a fetish. It is understandable to want to read
faster, but it is unwise to want to read everything at top speed. The
best reader can read very rapidly, but he or she adjusts the rate according
to purpose to the kind of material. Purposes and demands differ between
an informal essay and a formal one, and between the sports page in a
newspaper and a chemistry textbook. Francis Bacon, a famous Renaissance
scholar, was apparently such a reader. In his essay "Of Studies" he
very wisely said, " Some books are to be tasted, others to be swallowed
and digested; that is, some books are to be read only in parts, others
to be read, but not seriously, and some few to be read wholly, and with
diligence and attention." This observation is as apt today as it was
when Bacon made it.
One task for the English teacher, then, is to help students
to read at rates that are appropriate to the purpose for reading and
to the demands of the materials. To this end, the teacher can try to
provide a wide range of reading materials and can stress the desirability
of different reading rates. A literature program which is limited to
a single anthology usually does not offer students sufficient range
to develop this kind of flexibility. Fortunately, though, a variety
of reading materials is available for use in English, especially in
paperback format.
Third principle: Everyone in the English classroom can
read better
As any experienced English teacher knows, a class is
a mix of motivations, emotions, linguistic abilities, self-concepts,
physical characteristics, attitudes, experiences, social conditions,
economic conditions, cultural and ethnic identities, work habits, personalities,
values, intellects, and so on. All of these factors affect reading,
and in many cases are affected by reading. They also act in clusters,
affecting one another.
Depending upon a student's cluster of some of these
factors, he or she might be called advantaged or disadvantaged, or perhaps
culturally different or linguistically different. Of course any such
label is tenuous; it is relative to many contexts and open to many interpretations.
Because these factors are relative, the teaching of
reading should also be relative. It should not work toward a common
level. An English teacher must help each student to improve in the skills
in which he or she is least proficient.
In a small school the teacher must look more closely
at the results of standardized test scores to get a general idea of
areas of difficulty and then develop and administer a much more helpful
kind of instrument─ the informal reading inventory. The focus will be
on word attack skills5, building a larger sight vocabulary6, and finding
literal meanings. High-interest, low-difficulty materials should be
used.
In a large school, the English teacher can often turn
to a reading specialist for help. This specialist might assist in diagnosing
difficulties or might work in the classroom with the English teacher.
The specialist might also accept small groups of students from the English
class in a reading classroom or clinic at prearranged times for special
help.
What can an English teacher do to help students with
difficulty? First the teacher must provide a comfortable classroom that
will encourage these students to respond to whatever help is given.
Then the English teacher can provide more opportunities in oral communication
through structured conversations and oral pattern practices. These are
reinforced by words, phrases, sentences, and pictures on flash cards
and other teaching materials. As they improve, they should work with
high-interest, low-difficulty materials which will enable them to encounter
some of the same topics and ideas that other students will find in regularly
assigned materials. In searching for good transitional materials, though,
the English teacher should also look for literary value.
The English teacher should be aware of special problems
that can arise in working with students who are trying to read English
as a second language. The same sounds may exist in both languages but
have different ranges. Words in both languages can have the same form
but different meanings. Similar symbols can represent different sounds.
And if this is not enough to worry about, sounds in one language may
not exist in the other. The same can be true for word order and symbols
for the alphabet. To this list of problems can also be added stylistic,
idiomatic, and semantic differences deeply rooted in contrasting cultures.
Although an English teacher can do much to help problem
students, the teacher should not attempt the task alone. Other students
in class can help, particularly if they know both languages. So can
specialists in reading and teachers in other subjects.
Problem students can be found in English classrooms
all over the country. As we have seen, the English teacher can help
them to read better. The task is not easy: it requires understanding,
practice, flexibility, creativity, cooperation, and hard work. It also
requires doing whatever one can to motivate the student.
Fourth principle: To read well, one must want to read
well
Motivation is a key. These five axioms for motivating
better reading, and the suggestions that accompany them should prove
helpful:
Axiom 1. Each student should understand the personal
advantages of reading. For those who claim that there is nothing in
reading for them, the teacher can provide a wide variety of practical
reading materials which could relate to immediate interests and the
need for information. These could include newspaper ads, driver manuals,
do-it-yourself kits, recipes, bus schedules, yellow pages from the telephone
directory, information about jobs and careers, local laws and ordinances,
and many other materials could be included.
Materials such as these can serve as prompters for students
who refuse to read, but they do not in any way substitute for a literature
program. Noting a show of interest, an alert teacher will capitalize
on it by offering, not just suggesting, works which will allow the student
to pursue that interest. Some of the most reluctant readers can be guided
step by step from materials such as those mentioned above to literature
of increasing quality.
The "best" students in school can also be reluctant
readers. Even the most capable readers sometimes fail to see that literature
can do anything worthwhile for them. The fault can lie in the reading
material itself. Perhaps a selection does not lie close enough to interests,
experiences, social backgrounds, cultural identities, anxieties, aspirations,
thoughts, and emotions. The most capable readers also seek personal
engagements with books, and will widen and strengthen their reading
performance if encouraged to read books that interest them.
No teacher can assume, however, that the fault always lies with the
book. Sometimes a book is not taught in a challenging way. If a
teacher's
questions in class discussion or in individual conferences fail to go
beyond simple recall, a student may feel that the book has very limited
value. Often too much is said about a book. And that which is said is
sometimes so trivial that it wastes a student's time. Many capable students
will not see the need to go beyond literal reading into critical and
creative reading if not urged to do so by critical and creative questions.
Axiom 2. Each student should know how well he or she
reads. This implies that students' reading should be tested at regular
intervals. Each student should be told privately what test scores show
about his or her own reading.
Ways should be designed to help students monitor their
own progress. The practice of keeping individual reading folders for
students can be useful. The results of questionnaires and interest inventories;
records of wide, individualized reading; exercises in skimming, scanning,
and vocabulary development; and scores from diagnostic and progress
tests can be kept together in each folder. To protect each student's
right to privacy, these folders can be kept in a locked file cabinet
or closet.
Axiom 3. Each student should know that reading can be
improved. Students who feel that they cannot improve or do not need
to improve have no real motivation, and without motivation there will
be little improvement. It is therefore the teacher's task to help students
to break out of self-defeating cycles. A well-informed, caring, stimulating
teacher is without doubt the most important outside factor in reading
improvement.
Axiom 4. Reading materials should be appropriate. Peter
L. Sanders lists these six guidelines to appropriateness:
1. The only works worth teaching have an artistic dimension.
2. Works should be selected for their probable appeal.
3. The subject matter of the works selected should be
acceptable to the local community.
4. The work selected should reflect ethnic diversity.
5. There should be variety in content, style, and theme.
6. There should be a range in conceptual and linguistic
difficulty.
G. Robert Carlsen observes that "the book that has the
best chance of weaning the teenager between the age of twelve and fifteen
away from sub-literature is the adolescent novel".
Noting that adolescents "will read
books of great language difficulty if the subject lies close to their
interests, and reject even simple books about subjects that bore them," Carlsen identifies
"three transformations" that readers between the age of 10 or 11 and
18 go through in selecting content which interests them. In early adolescence,
they find greatest satisfaction in animal stories, adventure stories,
adolescent mysterious stories, tales of the supernatural, sports stories,
growing up around the world, home and family-life stories, slapstick,
and settings in the past. Reaching the age of 15 or 16 teenagers apparently
prefer the nonfiction account of adventure, biography and autobiography,
historical novels, mysterious romance, and the story of adolescent life.
Those who are finishing their last two years of high school are interested
in the search for personal values, books of social significance, the
strange and unusual human experience, and transition into adult life.
After reviewing some of the research on reading interests,
Alan Purves and Richard Beach (1972) concluded that students' interests
are most associated with the content of a work rather than its form
or style, and that most students prefer plain, suspenseful fare.
There are many ways in which an English teacher can
discover the interests that can greatly affect reading. Observations,
discussions with individual students, class and group discussions, oral
and written reports, literary check-outs, personal writing, and entries
in journals all help a teacher to gather this kind of information. These
methods should be supplemented by a teacher-made reading inventory which
provides a more structured approach to information-gathering.
By gathering useful information and providing appropriate
reading materials, an English teacher is taking two very important steps
toward helping students feel motivated. If the teacher takes another
step at this point, it should be to help students taste some real success
in reading something that interests them. Success is of course the greatest
motivator of all. First questions in an informal conference should be
the kind the student has the best chance of answering. Reading assignments
should be easily attainable, and the student should not feel hurried
or pressured. Thus, they may begin believing that they can do better
than they thought possible.
Axiom 5. The classroom atmosphere should be pleasant.
All efforts described above will work best if the classroom environment
is friendly and free from tension. Even in a rather gloomy, unattractive
building, the attitude of the teacher can make a class cheerful and
cooperative. The teacher also sets the tone. The way a teacher interacts
with students greatly affects the way students interact with books.
Fifth principle: Many teachers share in the responsibility
for improving reading.
If there is any one feature of the
total reading program about which the experts agreed, it is that all
high school teachers have a share in the responsibility of teaching
reading, even though the major part of the burden falls upon the teacher
of English. Social studies teacher should give suggestions on how to
read and study social studies material. Teachers of science and math also must assume special
responsibilities to help students to understand a test.
All teachers should teach skills appropriate to their
fields and all teachers should cooperate to make reading uniformly valued
throughout the school.
Sixth principle: There is no single right way to teach
reading.
The significant point is that there is a degree of truth
in most of the claims made by some researchers for the methods which
have been successfully used. Each of the dozen of recommended methods
is likely to lead to a special and rather limited sort of improvement.
The best program, then, it would seem, would be a balanced one that
borrows some parts from each of the proved methods.
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课文二
阅读:基本原则
第一原则:阅读是个复杂的过程,阅读需要思考。
阅读是数种技能的相互联系。它是一个有思想有意识,看起来是自动的,综合的过程,有点像步行、滑雪、骑车、游泳或驾驶汽车。从一系列印刷或书写的符号中发现连贯的意义需要努力协调各种技能。如同上述其它过程,阅读需要根据多个主要条件而不是单一条件调整个人的行为;不是在某一时间内从事一项活动,而是同时从事数项活动。和其它诸过程一样,阅读可以用行为者乐意的任何一种方式进行。熟练的读者就像熟练的游泳者或驾驶员一样,可以在经验中获得自信、动作的流畅性、节奏性、协调性及灵活性。
作为一个思维的过程,阅读不仅是对符号的解码,而且要使符号的意义间产生联系并应用这些符号的意义。阅读不仅能帮助领会作者之所想,而且能在其过程中发现读者自己的思想。这种思维引出针对所读材料的许多问题。在读一篇短篇小说、剧本或长篇小说时,读者意识到他不能仅仅问“发生了什么事?”而且要问,“这事为什么会发生?”及“这与作品中人物的问题究竟有什么关系?”提出这类问题的结果是,读者不仅可以理解这一作品的主题,而且会思考这一主题和他自己的生活究竟有什么关系。为理解字面意义而进行的阅读或具体阅读,可以通向批评性阅读,而批评性阅读则可通向创造性阅读。
思考型的读者是参与型的读者。因而,他们有目的地阅读,并在此过程中起积极的作用。他们试图发现谁在作品中说话,并专注地倾听他的声音,但会以自己的观点和态度作出回应。他们对技艺高明的作家的艺术和观点敞开思想,探究问题,提出疑问,掌握精髓,然后重新审视问题,重新思考,并重新探究。
第二原则:阅读速度可以调节。
快速阅读,或一些人所称的“速读”,几乎已成为人们热衷于追求的技能。人们想读得更快的愿望可以理解,但要想以最快的速度阅读所有的材料却不明智。最好的读者能够读得很快,但他却根据阅读不同材料的目的随时调整阅读速度。读一篇不拘形式的随笔或读一篇形式严谨的论文,读报纸上的体育消息或读化学教科书的目的和要求迥然不同。文艺复兴时期的著名学者弗朗西斯·培根显然就是这样一位读者。在《论学习》一文中,他睿智地说:“一些书只需略读,而另一些书则要细嚼慢咽,缓缓消化。也就是说一些书只需部分阅读,其它书只需浏览而不必深入阅读。但极少的书籍则要从头至尾细细阅读并需花大力气潜心研究。”这一论述不论在培根的时代或当今都是适用的。
因此,英语教师的一个任务就是要帮助学生以和阅读的目的与材料的要求相适合的速度阅读。为做到这一点,教师可以尝试提供给学生范围广泛的阅读材料,并强调应当采用的不同速度阅读。局限于一个文集的文学课程往往不能向学生提供内容广泛、充分的阅读材料来培养这种随时调节读速的灵活性。然而,所幸现在有多种英语读物,特别是平装书可供使用。
第三原则:英语课堂上的每一个学生都可以读得更好。
所有有经验的英语教师都知道,一个班级是一个混合体,包含各种动机、各种情绪、各种语言能力、各种自我意识、各种生理特性、各种学习态度、各种经历、各种社会经济条件、各种文化与种族特点、各种学习习惯、各种价值观、各种知识层次等因素,这些因素都影响阅读,同时它们也在许多情况下受阅读的影响。这些因素还互相作用,互相影响。
根据某个学生身上体现的一些因素群,该生就可能会被认为学习上有优势或没有优势,也许有文化差异或语言差异。当然这些说法都含糊不清。它们都是相对许多条件而言,并可能有多种解释。
正因为这些因素都是相对的,阅读教学也应当是相对的。阅读教学不应当只有一个共同的标准。英语教师必须帮助每个学生在其最薄弱的环节上提高技能。
在规模小的学校,教师必须更密切的关注标准和测试的成绩,从而从总体上了解学生感到困难的环节,并逐渐形成并应用一种更有助于学生的教学手段,即非正式的阅读材料细目。教学重点将是培养学生识记词汇的技能以求扩大阅读词汇量并理解字面意义。要采用趣味性强,难度低的阅读材料。
在规模大的学校,英语教师可常常求助阅读专家。阅读专家则可以帮助诊断各种阅读困难,或在课堂教学上与英语教师通力合作。他也可以在预先安排的时间内,在阅读教室或指导中心接纳来自英语班级的几组学生,给予专门的帮助。
英语教师怎样帮助那些有困难的学生呢?首先,教师必须为他们提供舒适的教学环境,鼓励他们响应所提供的各种帮助。其次,英语教师可以通过构建的对话及口头句型练习,为他们提供更多的口头交流机会,并通过词句及抽示卡上的图画和其他教学材料对他们所学的内容进行强化。在这些学生取得进步的同时,应当让他们接触有趣味、低难度的教材,以便让他们接触到一些其他学生在规定的正式教材上所能见到的话题和观点。然而,在寻找好的过渡材料的过程中,英语教师也应当重视材料的文学价值。
英语教师应当清楚,指导把英语当第二语言阅读的学生时会出现什么特殊问题。例如,在两种语言中可能存在着相同的发音,但却有着不同的音域。两种语言中的一些文字可具有同样的形式,但却有着不同的意义。相似的符号可能代表不同的发音。如果这还不足以令人担忧,那么还有其它的问题。如某些发音在另一语言中可能根本不存在。类似的还有词序及字母的写法。此外的问题还有根植在形成对照的文化中的诸如文体、习语、语义等方面的差异。
虽然英语教师对语言学习有困难的学生可以提供诸多帮助,但他不应试图独自承担这一任务。班上其他的学生——尤其是那些掌握双语的学生——就可以充当助手,阅读专家和其它学科的教师也可相助。
有英语学习问题的学生全国到处可见。然而正像我们已看见的那样,英语教师要帮助他们更好地阅读绝非易事。从事这一工作需要理解、实践、灵活性、创造性、合作精神、和勤奋的工作,还要尽力去激发学生的学习动机。
第四原则:要阅读得好,首先必须想要阅读得好。
动机是关键。以下是促进阅读的五条公理及与它们相应的建议,应该有所裨益。
公理一.每个学生都应当了解自己在阅读方面的优势。对那些声称从阅读中毫无收获的人,教师可以提供多种实用性阅读材料以提高读者的即时兴趣和他们对信息的需求。这些材料可包括报纸广告、驾驶手册、供自己动手者使用的说明书、食谱、公共汽车时刻表、电话号码簿中的黄页、招聘信息、地方法规及其它许多材料。
这样的材料可促使那些拒绝阅读的学生去读。但它们绝不可代替文学课程。一旦注意到有兴趣表露,敏感的教师就会充分利用。他不仅建议而且提供那些能让学生继续这种兴趣的材料。一些最不愿意阅读的人可以通过教师的逐步指导,渐渐从阅读上述材料过渡到阅读较高质量的文本。
即使是学校里最好的学生,也可能不愿意阅读。甚至阅读能力最强的人,有时也不明白文学对他们的极大价值。造成这种结果的原因可能在于阅读材料本身。也许所选材料与学生的兴趣、经历、社会背景、文化特点、志趣、思想、情绪等相距甚远。阅读能力最强的读者也需要寻求迎合自己趣味的书籍。如果鼓励他们阅读自己感兴趣的书,他们就会扩大并加强他们的阅读活动。
然而,没有一个教师可以认为,问题的原因总是在书本。有时问题在于没有用具有挑战性的方法处理教材。如果教师在课堂讨论或个别辅导中提出的问题仅限于要学生回忆课文内容,学生就会感到这本书的价值有限。通常的情况是,教师讲解过多,讲解的内容有时又过于琐碎,学生会感到浪费时间。对于许多阅读能力强的学生,假如教师不提出一些评论性的或创造性的问题,来促进他们从字面意义阅读向评论性、创造性阅读过渡,他们就看不到这种过渡的必要性。
公理二.每个学生都应当知道自己的阅读能力如何。这就意味着对学生的阅读能力应作定期测试。应当对学生个别说明测试成绩如何反映出他的阅读状况。
应当设计帮助学生监控自己学习进展情况的方法。建立学生阅读档案的做法可能会有效。问卷调查结果、旨在提高兴趣的阅读材料细目、广泛的个性化阅读记录、速读及略读练习及词汇量的发展、诊断性测试和对阅读进展情况的测试成绩,这些将放在每人的档案中。为保护每个学生的隐私权,可将这些档案锁在档案柜或壁橱里。
公理三.每个学生都应当知道阅读能力是可以提高的。感到自己不能提高或不需要提高的学生缺乏阅读动机,而缺乏动机就不会有什么进步。因此,教师的任务就是要帮助学生摆脱自我挫败的怪圈。一个知识渊博、关心学生、善于激励学生的教师,无疑是提高学生阅读水平过程中最重要的外部因素。
公理四.阅读教材必须适当。彼得·L·桑德斯列出了以下六条适当性准则:
1. 具有艺术性的材料才值得教。
2. 应当选用那些有吸引力的材料。
3.
入选材料的题材应当为当地公众所接受。
4. 入选材料应当反映民族多样性。
5. 入选材料应当内容丰富、形式多样、题材广泛。
6. 所选材料的概念和语言难度应有一定的范围。
G·罗伯特·卡尔逊认为:“最有可能使12-15岁的少年摆脱二流文学作品书籍的是青少年小说。”
卡尔逊注意到,青少年们“会阅读语言难度很高的书籍,如果题材贴近他们的兴趣。但如果题材使他们厌倦,则语言再简单的书籍也会被拒之千里之外。”因此他发现年龄在10或11到18岁之间的读者,在选择他们感兴趣的材料方面要经过三个转变。在少年时期,他们最喜欢的是动物故事、冒险故事、青少年神秘故事、超自然的传说、体育故事、人生成长的家庭生活故事、滑稽故事及历史故事。到15,16岁时,他们显然偏爱有关非虚构的冒险、传记和自传、历史小说、神秘的浪漫故事及有关青少年生活的小说。那些将完成中学最后两年的学生则喜欢寻求个人价值。他们喜欢读具有社会意义的书、以及有关奇特的,不寻常的人生体验,及向成人生活过渡的书籍。
在评论一些对阅读兴趣做的研究之后,艾伦·帕夫斯和理查德·比奇(1972)得出结论,认为学生兴趣与作品内容的关系最为密切,而不是它的形式和风格。大多数学生喜欢朴实无华,带有悬念的故事。
英语教师可以通过很多方法去发现那些能大大影响阅读兴趣的因素。对个别学生的观察,个别讨论,班级及小组讨论、口头与书面报告、文学测评、个人随笔、日记中的记事,都有助于教师收集这类材料。除此之外,教师还应当设计阅读细目作为补充,为收集信息提供更加结构化的方法。
通过收集有用信息并提供合适的阅读材料,英语教师在帮助学生激发阅读动机上迈出了极其重要的两步。要采取的下一个步骤,就是要帮助学生在阅读他们感兴趣的材料过程中品味真正的成功。成功无疑是激发动机的最大因素。在非正式的课堂讨论中最先提出的问题,应当是学生最有可能回答的。阅读作业也不应太难,这样学生就不会感到紧张和压力。这样,他们就会相信他们能读得比想象的更为出色。
公理五.教室的气氛应令人愉快。如果教室的气氛友好而轻松,上述所列的原则将产生最佳效果。即使是在一幢相当阴暗,呆板的教学楼里,教师的态度也可以使整个班级喜气洋洋并愉快合作。教师定下了课堂的基调。教师与学生的交流方式会大大影响学生与书本之间的互动。
第五原则:众多教师共同分担提高阅读能力的责任。
对于整个的阅读教程,如果存在一个专家们一致认同的的共同特点,这就是所有的中学教师在阅读教学中都有一份责任,虽然主要的任务落在英语教师身上。例如,社会学科的教师应建议学生如何研读社会学科的材料。自然科学及数学教师也必须承担起特殊的责任,来帮助学生理解一个测试。
所有的教师都应当教授适合自身领域的阅读技能,并应当相互合作,使阅读在全校得到普遍重视。
第六原则:阅读教学无定法。
重要的一点是,一些教学法研究者所主张的已被成功运用的教学方法,大多数具有某种程度的道理。大量被介绍的方法中每一种都可能带来特定的、并且是有限的进步。而最佳的阅读教学方案,似乎是从每一个已被证明有效的教学方法中借鉴一部分,并加以平衡的方案。
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