Beruflich Dokumente
Kultur Dokumente
FACULTATEA DE LITERE
SPECIALIZAREA: ROMANA / ENGLEZA
INVATAMANT LA DISTANTA
PROGRAMA ANALITICA
DISCIPLINA: CURS PRACTIC LIMBA ENGLEZ
Anul III Semestrul I
TITULARUL DISCIPLINEI: Iulia Ciurezu
I.
-
II.
OBIECTIVELE DISCIPLINEI:
exersarea si fixarea folosirii corecte a verbelor modale; subjonctivului in propozitii
subordonate; a constructiilor cu infinitivul, participiul si gerunziul (recunoasterea functiilor
sintactice ale acestora)
revizuirea si aplicarea practica a conceptelor si notiunilor teoretice de baza accumulate in
cadrul cursului de sintaxa frazei privind negatia, coordonarea si subordonarea, constructii
complexe cu gerunziul si infinitivul, statutul subiectului acestora, transformari sintactice)
familiarizarea studentilor cu structuri sintactice complexe, specifice limbii literare/ scrise prin
accesul la si lucrul cu texte autentice.
TEMATICA CURSURILOR
Non-finite Subordination
1. Accusative with Infinitive and Nominative with Infinitive constructions
2. The gerundial clause; verbs followed by infinitives and /or gerunds (DO
clauses)
3. The Infinitive after prepositional verbs and adjectives (PO clauses)
4. Participial constructions
III.
EVALUAREA STUDENTILOR
Examen scris si oral la sfarsitul fiecarui semestru (semestrul I capitolele I, II si III;
semesrul II capitolul IV)
Stabilirea notei finale: raspunsurile la examen 70% ,
teme de control (exercitiile incluse in suportul de curs) 20%
IV.
BIBILIOGRAFIE GENERALA
A:
1. A Guide To Patterns and Usage In English (A.S. Hornby, Oxford University Press,1962)
2. The Infinitive (Alexandra Cornilescu & Ioan I. Dimitriu, Institutul European, 2000)
B:
1. Cornilescu, A. (1995): Concept of Modern Grammar, EUB, Bucuresti;
2. Cornilescu, A. (1986): English Syntax, vol. 2, EUB, Bucuresti
3. Galateanu-Farnoaga, G., Comisel, E (1993).: Gramatica Limbii Engleze, Omegapres & Rai,
Bucuresti,
4. Heageman, L and J. Gueron (1999): English Grammar, Blackwell
5. Radford, A. (1997): Syntactic theory and the structure of English, CUP, Cambridge
SUPORT DE CURS
DISCIPLINA: CURS PRACTIC LIMBA ENGLEZ
Anul III Semestrul I, II
TITULARUL DISCIPLINEI: Iulia Ciurezu
1. Phrasal verbs;
2. Deontic and epistemic uses of English modals
(1). Insert prepositions/ particles wherever you think they are needed. Make a list of the
phrasal verbs you have found, check them with a dictionary and use them in sentences
of your own.
A
I WAS BORN PREMATURE AND HAVE BEEN LATE EVER SINCE. Those you
who are punctual will not know us, the other half of the world, the latecomers. Youll have
waited us; the chances are that youve been kept waiting us many a time, but you wont
understand. In fact, if the truth be told, youre the enemy.
Doubtless, youve seen us. Were quite a spectacle: a vast tribe of electrified
anxiety. We glance our watches and see despair. Youve probably noticed us leaping
and taxi cabs throwing notes (no time change!). We dodge you the street, jumping
puddles, weaving the traffic. We are the strange, scuttling creatures bursting wild eyes
restaurants, the hope that youve waited us.
Youll have observed us hovering nervously every lobby and entance hall the
world. In theatres and cinemas you stand as we creep the row trying so hard not to
knock your knees or tread your toes. And you, what do you do? You tut the dark. You
dont need to do that, we know what weve done.
But heres a curious thing: these moments we hate ourselves so much that we
have no alternative but to transfer our hatred you, the punctilious, instead.
Here we see this aggressive lateness action:
Im very sorry Im late.
Yes, but why are you late?
I just am.
But why? Where have you been? Whatve you been doing? Do you realise how
long Ive been waiting here? Ive been waiting over an hour!
Does it matter?
Yes. You should respect me enough to show time.
But Im not late purpose. Look, Ill go.
But youve only just arrived!
So you want the truth?
Yes.
Well, Im late because Ive made a choice a choice to be myself. Im the kind
person who has never been time yet and never will be. Thats what Im like. Sorry!
B
TECHNICAL QUERIES
Your detailed knowledge computers may lead someone to ask you a technical question.
Never be worried these; the fact hat they ask means they wouldnt understand the
answer anyway. The most important rule is, claim to know nothing the insides the
machines. Computer users should know no more what happens the screen than a
television critic. If someone starts talking chips and processors and bus boards, direct
them an electronic engineer.( or caf or London Tramsport timetable, as suitable).
Hand
-----hand something around phrasal
verb
1
if something breaks up, or if you break it
up, it breaks into a lot of small pieces
It seems that the plane just broke up in the
air.
break something up
Use a fork to break up the soil.
2
break something up
to separate something into several smaller
parts
There are plans to break the company up
into several smaller independent
companies. You need a few trees and
bushes to break up the lawn.
3
break something up
to stop a fight
Three policemen were needed to break up
the fight.
4
break something up
to make people leave a place where they
have been meeting or protesting
Government soldiers broke up the
demonstration . Police moved in to break
up the meeting .
5
if a marriage, group of people, or
relationship breaks up, the people in it
separate and do not live or work together
any more
He lost his job and his marriage broke up .
The couple broke up last year. Many bands
break up because of personality clashes
between the musicians.
break up with
Has Sam really broken up with Lucy?
see also breakup
6
if a meeting or party breaks up, people
start to leave
The party didn't break up until after
midnight. The meeting broke up without
any agreement.
7
British English when a school breaks up, it
closes for a holiday
School breaks up next week.
break up for
When do you break up for Easter?
8
break somebody up
American English informal to make
someone laugh by saying or doing
something funny
its back
We break the horses in when they're about
two years old.
(4). The text below is the correct and complete version of the text used in exercise (2)
above. Make a list of (a) the phrasal verbs in it (with and without prepositions); (b) the
modal verbs (specifying whether they have been used in their deontic or epistemic
meanings):
Mike was born a cute African-American guy. "Normal", if you will, and very talented.
Despite the current, sad stories about his lonely, sad childhood, Mike grew up
surrounded by famous people and an adoring public.(...) By age 11, Mike was a
Superstar. At age 13 he went solo and had his first #1 hit at 14 with "Ben" (a touching
love song to a rat). Who knew he'd get addicted to plastic surgery, face accusations of
child molestation and end up America's Most Famous Sideshow?(...) He had
unprecedented sponsorship deals with Pepsi, and LA Gear Sportswear. People stood in
line at 1AM to purchase "Thriller" when it came out, even though the store didn't open
until 9 AM. (...) In a mere year and a half his skin's gone from beautiful cocoa bronze to
fish belly white. He first denies this, then blames it on the medical condition Vitiligo which
causes people of color to develop light patches of skin that lack pigment.(...) He's talking
in a Marilyn Monroe Little Girl Whisper. He's started the Spin of the misunderstood,
picked-upon Victim instead of an increasingly weird 30 year old man. He's creepy.
People are making jokes that only in America can you be born a black man and end up a
white woman.(...)The public, who forgave his mounting eccentricities because of his
incredible talents nod in silence about it all, unsurprised. Most remark that someone with
this going on visibly outside has to have a lot of demons going on inside. In his defense,
Mike launches his second career as Whining, Weeping, Hurt, Offended, Innocent Victim.
(...) The "Alcocholic Housewife" look didn't catch on either. Even the staunch defenders
of Michael's sanity have to admit the boy's cheese has slid off his cracker. Mike gets a
fake chin implant and suddenly loses his cleft chin, the sides of his face are stretched
taut, his nose isn't pointing North anymore and it's anyone's guess what the hell he did
to his skin this time. The Art of Cosmetology seems to be an unknown science in his part
of the world and he's getting his face done at the local morgue. He has new lipstick and
jokes abound that he's turned into Diana Ross. (...) Each photo that shows up in the
coming years never fails to make people's jaws drop. Mike gets worked up saying he
doesn't see why everyone but him can have a little nip and tuck on the nose... He
doesn't think he looks that different and wishes people would leave him alone. We wish
he'd leave his face alone.
(5). Respond to the statements or questions below (in long, complex sentences or
paragraphs) using the modal verb given in brackets:
1.
Why didn't she arrive in time yesterday morning? (must)
2.
Let's not wait any longer. (may)
3.
It's strange that he hasn't said any more about his plans to emigrate. (might)
4.
Be very careful if he starts asking questions. (can)
5.
I'm afraid he failed that test. (be able to)
6.
She invited her new neighbours to our party. (need)
7.
I can see the lights are still on. (must)
8.
What he told me was really amazing. (can)
9.
What's going on here? (should)
10
This is so like George. (will)
11.
I wonder what has come up. (could)
12.
It was such a bad idea to borrow Ann's car. (would)
13.
They should have been here long before now. (may)
14.
We will have to return to B. next month. (be allowed to)
15.
I was surprised to hear the news. (ought to)
1)I turned round the corner and bumpde into a stanger. 2)I read only a few pages and
the main ideea of the book became clear to me. 3)She left the house and remembered
the appointment.4)He entered the room and immediately the telephone rang. 5)He took
a seat at the table and a plate of steaming soup appeared before him as if by magic.
6)He came into the garden and was enchanted by its beauty.
From the corner of the divan of Persian saddle-bags on which he was lying, smoking, as
was his custom, innumerable cigarettes, Lord Henry Wotton could just catch the gleam
of the honey-sweet and honey-coloured blossoms of a laburnum, whose tremulous
branches seemed hardly able to bear the burden of a beauty so flamelike as theirs; and
now and then the fantastic shadows of birds in flight flitted across the long tussore-silk
curtains that were stretched in front of the huge window, producing a kind of momentary
Japanese effect, and making him think of those pallid, jade-faced painters of Tokyo who,
through the medium of an art that is necessarily immobile, seek to convey the sense of
swiftness and motion. The sullen murmur of the bees shouldering their way through the
long unmown grass, or circling with monotonous insistence round the dusty gilt horns of
the straggling woodbine, seemed to make the stillness more oppressive. The dim roar of
London was like the bourdon note of a distant organ.
In the centre of the room, clamped to an upright easel, stood the full-length portrait of a
young man of extraordinary personal beauty, and in front of it, some little distance away,
was sitting the artist himself, Basil Hallward, whose sudden disappearance some years
ago caused, at the time, such public excitement and gave rise to so many strange
conjectures.
As the painter looked at the gracious and comely form he had so skilfully mirrored in his
art, a smile of pleasure passed across his face, and seemed about to linger there. But
he suddenly started up, and closing his eyes, placed his fingers upon the lids, as though
he sought to imprison within his brain some curious dream from which he feared he
might awake.
"It is your best work, Basil, the best thing you have ever done," said Lord Henry
languidly. "You must certainly send it next year to the Grosvenor. The Academy is too
large and too vulgar.Whenever I have gone there, there have been either so many
people that I have not been able to see the pictures, which was dreadful, or so many
pictures that I have not been able to see the people, which was worse.The Grosvenor is
really the only place."
wholly on one or two private admirations, nor can he form himself wholly upon one
preferred period. The first course is inadmissible, the second is an important experience
of youth, and the third is a pleasant and highly desirable supplement. The poet must be
very conscious of the main current, which does not at all flow invariably through the most
distinguished reputations. He must be quite aware of the obvious fact that art never
improves, but that the material of art is never quite the same. He must be aware that the
mind of Europethe mind of his own countrya mind which he learns in time to be
much more important than his own private mindis a mind which changes, and that this
change is a development which abandons nothing en route, which does not
superannuate
either Shakespeare, or Homer, or the rock drawing of the Magdalenian
draughtsmen. That this development, refinement perhaps, complication certainly, is not,
from the point of view of the artist, any improvement. Perhaps not even an improvement
from the point of view of the psychologist or not to the extent which we imagine; perhaps
only in the end based upon a complication in economics and machinery. But the
difference between the present and the past is that the conscious present is an
awareness of the past in a way and to an extent which the past's awareness of itself
cannot show.
Some one said: "The dead writers are remote from us because we know so much
more than they did." Precisely, and they are that which we know.
I am alive to a usual objection to what is clearly part of my programme for the
mtier of poetry. The objection is that the doctrine requires a ridiculous amount of
erudition (pedantry), a claim which can be rejected by appeal to the lives of poets in any
pantheon. It will even be affirmed that much learning deadens or perverts poetic
sensibility. While, however, we persist in believing that a poet ought to know as much as
will not encroach upon his necessary receptivity and necessary laziness, it is not
desirable to confine knowledge to whatever can be put into a useful shape for
examinations, drawing-rooms, or the still more pretentious modes of publicity. Some can
absorb knowledge, the more tardy must sweat for it. Shakespeare acquired more
essential history from Plutarch than most men could from the whole British Museum.
What is to be insisted upon is that the poet must develop or procure the consciousness
of the past and that he should continue to develop this consciousness throughout his
career.
What happens is a continual surrender of himself as he is at the moment to
something which is more valuable. The progress of an artist is a continual self-sacrifice,
a continual extinction of personality.
There remains to define this process of depersonalization and its relation to the
sense of tradition. It is in this depersonalization that art may be said to approach the
condition of science. I shall, therefore, invite you to consider, as a suggestive analogy,
the action which takes place when a bit of finely filiated platinum is introduced into a
chamber containing oxygen and sulphur dioxide. (from Eliot, T. S. 1920. The Sacred Wood:
Tradition and the Individual Talent)
(2) Make up complex sentences that contain THAT complements functioning as:
(a) subjects;
(b) attributes - consider the differences between these Attributive clauses and Relative
clauses functioning as attributes (refer to exercise 3. below);
(c) direct objects;
(d) prepositional objects (identify the deleted prepositions! - rephrase these complement
as non-finite ones);
(e) predicatives
(3). Discuss the following sentences; specify the type of RC and the syntactic function of
the RC and of the relative pronoun:
1. This law was what the Senator thought of as his legislative masterpiece.
2. The little girl, whose broken toy was still lying on the pavement, had been taken to the
hospital.
3. I will teach whomever I speak with to speak civilly to me.
4. Any boy that is lazy must be punished.
5. Whom a serpent has bitten a lizard alarms.
6. That J. Smith, whom she mentioned in her letter, had just arrived from Chicago.
7. The woman that I saw on the train was a real beauty.
8. They were interested in alchemy, astrology, as much as in what we should call
philosophy. 9. There is no evidence from which to infer that.
10. Even John, who is a friend of ours, left early.
11. He adopts the word and manner of whoever he happens to live with.
12. What he had to say was the truth.
13. This happens at times when the light intensity is low.
14.Dans new article, which youve all been talking about lately, is quite a success.
15. As for the magazines, he could take whichever of them he liked.
Cap. 4:
Non-finite Subordination
B:
The artist is the creator of beautiful things. To reveal art and conceal the artist is
art's aim. The critic is he who can translate into another manner or a new material his
impression of beautiful things. The highest as the lowest form of criticism is a mode of
autobiography. Those who find ugly meanings in beautiful things are corrupt without
being charming. This is a fault.
Those who find beautiful meanings in beautiful things are the cultivated. For these
there is hope. They are the elect to whom beautiful things mean only beauty.
There is no such thing as a moral or an immoral book. Books are well written, or
badly written. That is all. The nineteenth century dislike of realism is the rage of Caliban
seeing his own face in a glass.
The nineteenth century dislike of romanticism is the rage of Caliban not seeing his own face
in a glass. The moral life of man forms part of the subject-matter of the artist, but the
morality of art consists in the perfect use of an imperfect medium. No artist desires to prove
anything. Even things that are true can be proved. No artist has ethical sympathies. An
ethical sympathy in an artist is an unpardonable mannerism of style. No artist is ever morbid.
The artist can express everything. Thought and language are to the artist instruments of an
art. Vice and virtue are to the artist materials for an art. From the point of view of form, the
type of all the arts is the art of the musician. From the point of view of feeling, the actor's
craft is the type. All art is at once surface and symbol. Those who go beneath the surface do
so at their peril. Those who read the symbol do so at their peril. It is the spectator, and not
life, that art really mirrors. Diversity of opinion about a work of art shows that the work is
new, complex, and vital. When critics disagree, the artist is in accord with himself. We can
forgive a man for making a useful thing as long as he does not admire it. The only excuse for
making a useless thing is that one admires it intensely. All art is quite useless. ( from Oscar
Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray)
(2). In the text below, rephrase the non-finite structures (infinitives, gerunds, participles)
as finite ones (That complements and Adverbial clauses, respectively). Comment on the
subjects of the non-finite clauses.
In English writing we seldom speak of tradition, though we occasionally apply its
name in deploring its absence. We cannot refer to "the tradition" or to "a tradition"; at
most, we employ the adjective in saying that the poetry of So-and-so is "traditional" or
even "too traditional." Seldom, perhaps, does the word appear except in a phrase of
censure. If otherwise, it is vaguely approbative, with the implication, as to the work
approved, of some pleasing archological reconstruction. You can hardly make the
word agreeable to English ears without this comfortable reference to the reassuring
science of archology.
Certainly the word is not likely to appear in our appreciations of living or dead
writers. Every nation, every race, has not only its own creative, but its own critical turn of
mind; and is even more oblivious of the shortcomings and limitations of its critical habits
than of those of its creative genius. We know, or think we know, from the enormous
mass of critical writing that has appeared in the French language the critical method or
habit of the French; we only conclude (we are such unconscious people) that the French
are "more critical" than we, and sometimes even plume ourselves a little with the fact, as
if the French were the less spontaneous. Perhaps they are; but we might remind
ourselves that criticism is as inevitable as breathing, and that we should be none the
worse for articulating what passes in our minds when we read a book and feel an
emotion about it, for criticizing our own minds in their work of criticism. One of the facts
that might come to light in this process is our tendency to insist, when we praise a poet,
upon those aspects of his work in which he least resembles anyone else. In these
aspects or parts of his work we pretend to find what is individual, what is the peculiar
essence of the man. We dwell with satisfaction upon the poet's difference from his
predecessors, especially his immediate predecessors; we endeavour to find something
that can be isolated in order to be enjoyed. Whereas if we approach a poet without this
prejudice we shall often find that not only the best, but the most individual parts of his
work may be those in which the dead poets, his ancestors, assert their immortality most
vigorously. And I do not mean the impressionable period of adolescence, but the period
of full maturity.
Yet if the only form of tradition, of handing down, consisted in following the ways of the
immediate generation before us in a blind or timid adherence to its successes, "tradition" should
positively be discouraged. We have seen many such simple currents soon lost in the sand; and
novelty is better than repetition. Tradition is a matter of much wider significance. It cannot be
inherited, and if you want it you must obtain it by great labour. It involves, in the first place, the
historical sense, which we may call nearly indispensable to anyone who would continue to be a
poet beyond his twenty-fifth year; and the historical sense involves a perception, not only of the
pastness of the past, but of its presence; the historical sense compels a man to write not merely
with his own generation in his bones, but with a feeling that the whole of the literature of Europe
from Homer and within it the whole of the literature of his own country has a simultaneous
existence and composes a simultaneous order. This historical sense, which is a sense of the
timeless as well as of the temporal and of the timeless and of the temporal together, is what
makes a writer traditional. And it is at the same time what makes a writer most acutely
conscious of his place in time, of his contemporaneity.
No poet, no artist of any art, has his complete meaning alone. His significance, his
appreciation is the appreciation of his relation to the dead poets and artists. You cannot
value him alone; you must set him, for contrast and comparison, among the dead. I
mean this as a principle of sthetic, not merely historical, criticism. The necessity that
he shall conform, that he shall cohere, is not one-sided; what happens when a new
work of art is created is something that happens simultaneously to all the works of art
which preceded it. (from Eliot, T. S. 1920. The Sacred Wood: Tradition and the Individual Talent)
BIBILIOGRAPHY:
A:
1. A Guide To Patterns and Usage In English (A.S. Hornby, Oxford University
Press,1962)
2. The Infinitive (Alexandra Cornilescu & Ioan I. Dimitriu, Institutul European, 2000)
3. The Gerund (Alexandra Cornilescu & Ioan I. Dimitriu, Institutul European, 2000)
B:
1. Cornilescu, A. (1995): Concept of Modern Grammar, EUB, Bucuresti;
2. Cornilescu, A. (1986): English Syntax, vol. 2, EUB, Bucuresti
3. Galateanu-Farnoaga, G., Comisel, E (1993).: Gramatica Limbii Engleze, Omegapres
& Rai, Bucuresti,
4. Heageman, L and J. Gueron (1999): English Grammar, Blackwell
5. Radford, A. (1997): Syntactic theory and the structure of English, CUP, Cambridge