Sie sind auf Seite 1von 56

Direction:

The following question has a paragraph from which the last sentence has been deleted. From the
given options, choose the sentence that completes the paragraph in the most appropriate way.

Question:

Often modern historians declare that the great age of castle building in England was over by
A.D. 1300. If you could stand in front of Windsor Castle in the 1350s, or Bodiam Castle in the
1380s, and watch the dozens of carts and wagons carrying stones and timbers daily across the
muddy approach roads, you might disagree. Castles continued to be built and rebuilt on a
massive scale after 1300. Older castles were increasingly proving to be uncomfortable, with their
small chambers and gloomy halls. The earl of Devon almost entirely rebuilt his castle at
Okehampton. The earl of Warwick rebuilt Warwick Castle in a similarly extravagant fashion,
with a new great hall, new gatehouse, and two of the finest residential towers in the kingdom.
Most of all, King Edward III repaired or extended a huge number of royal castles. His works at
Windsor Castle, where he rebuilt practically everything within the outer walls, cost more
than £50,000, making it the most expensive building project in medieval England.

Options:

The earl of March rebuilt his family seat at Wigmore and developed Ludlow Castle on a
1.
truly palatial scale.
If the fourteenth century was not the great age of castle building, then it was certainly the
2.
great age of castle rebuilding.
These new castles were more like fortified manor houses, than the castles of the previous
3.
centuries, which were built primarily for military purposes.
Another reason for the rebuilding was security, especially in the reign of Richard II, when
4.
there were renewed fears of invasion from both France and Scotland.
Explanation:

The paragraph begins by claiming that historians that say that the great age of castle building in
England was over by A.D. 1300 are not necessarily correct. The rest of the paragraph gives
several examples of castles that were rebuilt in this time. Yet another such example, like in
option [1], does not really complete the theme. Also, the last example in the given paragraph
starts off with 'most of all', indicating that it is the final example. Both [3] and [4] go off on
tangents, by describing the difference between post-1300 and pre-1300 castles, and another
reason for rebuilding castles, respectively. Only [2] adequately completes the theme: it
summarizes the point about castle rebuilding that the examples serve to make, and it links back
to the first sentence of the paragraph by discussing the issue of castle building in the fourteenth
century. Hence, [2].

Direction:
The following question has a paragraph from which the last sentence has been deleted. From the
given options, choose the sentence that completes the paragraph in the most appropriate way.

Question:

Our minds are not modern, and many of our woes have to do with this mismatch between our
Stone Age psychologies and the world in which we now live. Obesity is a simple example of
this. Food was hard to get for most people for most of human history. Even a few hundred years
ago, the average European family spent over half of its budget on food, and it wouldn't get much
for the money - the daily caloric intake of an eighteenth-century Frenchman was equivalent to
that of a contemporary citizen of a malnourished African nation. In a world in which food is
scarce, it is smart for an animal to eat when it can and store up the fat, and suicidal to pass up the
chance for sweet fruit or fresh meat. But many humans now live in environments in which food
is cheap, plentiful and cleverly manufactured to be maximally flavourful.

Options:

1. Once, starvation was the primary food-related problem; now it's overeating.
So now, even though food is not hard to come by for citizens of developed nations, people
2.
still try to eat as much as they can get.
It is difficult to resist the evolutionary impulse to gobble it all up, which leads to an obesity
3.
epidemic.
Now, people have to actively resist their Stone Age mindset, and not indulge in too many
4.
calories.
Explanation:

The paragraph is about how human beings' evolutionary psychology clashes with modern
lifestyles (specifically in terms of our attitude towards food). Neither [1] nor [2] mentions this
aspect, so they cannot be said to adequately complete the theme. The mention of the obesity
problem in the paragraph suggests that people don't 'resist their Stone Age mindset', so [4] is a
misreading of the paragraph. Only [3] correctly makes the connection between our evolutionary
impulses and the obesity problem. Hence, [3].

Direction:

In the following question, a word has been used in sentences in four different ways. Choose the
option corresponding to the sentence in which the usage of the word is incorrect or inappropriate.

Question:

PLAY

Options:
1. I didn't mean to upset you - I just said what I did in play.
2. He watched the play of sunlight on the leaf-strewn forest floor.
3. She has an instinctive talent for music - she can play both the piano and the violin by ear.
If this undertaking fails, it will play unto the hands of our rivals, who will use it as an
4.
opportunity to discredit us.
Explanation:

In option [1], 'in play' means in jest or not seriously. 'Play' in [2] refers to the movement of light.
To 'play by ear', as in [3], means to play music from memory. So all these options are correct.
However, [4] is not - the correct idiomatic phrase in it should be 'play into the hands of', meaning
to provide an advantage to (an opponent), not 'play unto the hands of'. Hence, [4].

Direction:

In the following question, a word has been used in sentences in four different ways. Choose the
option corresponding to the sentence in which the usage of the word is incorrect or inappropriate.

Question:

FIGURE

Options:

1. He cut a handsome figure in his impeccably tailored suit.


2. These scientists' names figure importantly in any science textbook.
3. I don't need to know the precise cost - just tell me in a round figure.
. Don't forget to figure in travel expenses while making the budget for the trip.
Explanation:

To 'cut a figure' means to give a certain impression, so [1] is correct. To 'figure' in [2] means to
appear prominently in. In [4], 'figure in' means to add in. But in [3], the correct expression should
be 'in round figures', meaning in an approximate estimate, not 'in a round figure'. Hence, [3].

Direction:

The sentences given in each question, when properly sequenced, form a coherent paragraph.
Each sentence is labelled with a letter. Identify the most logical order of sentences to construct a
coherent paragraph. Key in your answer using the keypad provided.

Question:

A. No one would think to commit a deep thought or a long argument to a pebble or a potsherd.
B. They had the advantages of being cheap and plentiful but the disadvantages of being small,
irregular in shape, and easily lost, broken or otherwise damaged.

C. When people first began writing things down, they'd scratch their marks on anything that
happened to be lying around - smooth-faced rocks, scraps of wood, strips of bark, bits of cloth,
pieces of bone, chunks of broken pottery.

D. They were suitable for inscriptions and labels, perhaps a brief note or notice, but not much
else.

E. Such ephemera were the original media for the written word.

Enter your response using the virtual keyboard in the box provided below

[quizky-text]

Options:

1. CEBDA
2. CDABE
3. CDBAE
4. CEDAB
Explanation:

[C] is clearly the first sentence. 'Such ephemera' ('ephemera' refers to short- lived items) in [E]
refers to the items mentioned in [C], so [E] clearly follows [C]. [B] follows next by presenting
the advantages and disadvantages of the ‘original media’. [D] goes further and states the suitable
use of such media. [A] follows next as [D] states what the writing materials were suitable for,
and [A] states what they were not suitable for. Therefore, we get the sequence CEBDA. Hence,
CEBDA.

Direction:

The sentences given in each question, when properly sequenced, form a coherent paragraph.
Each sentence is labelled with a letter. Identify the most logical order of sentences to construct a
coherent paragraph. Key in your answer using the keypad provided.

Question:

A. There are surprisingly few rules: it's not impolite to start a second, or third, conversation in a
group before the first one has ended, or even to interrupt someone in mid-sentence, as
interrupting shows you're in the game.
B. Rambling on about yourself and your work is the only thing that is truly unacceptable,
because it's boring.

C. Whether friendly or hostile, conversations are always competitive, steered towards someone
getting the upper hand, demonstrating wit, or otherwise making an impression.

D. The French like the level of discussion to be as high as possible.

E. Conversation is a game, an invitation to go head to head with someone.

Enter your response using the virtual keyboard in the box provided below

[quizky-text]

Options:

1. DCEAB
2. DEBCA
3. DABEC
4. DCEBA
Explanation:

[D] is the opening sentence, as it introduces the topic of the French attitude to conversation. [C]
follows next as ‘conversation’ in [C] is clearly linked to ‘discussion’ in [D]. [E] and [C] are both
linked by ‘conversation’. [A], which refers to conversation as 'the game', has to appear next in
the sequence after [E], which first calls conversation a game. [B] is linked to [A], as [A] states
what is acceptable in conversation, and [B] states what is the only thing that is not acceptable.
Thus, the only correct sequence among the options is DCEAB. Hence, DCEAB.

Direction:

In the following questions, there are sentences that form a paragraph. Identify the sentence(s) or
part(s) of sentence(s) that is/are correct in terms of grammar and usage (including spelling,
punctuation and logical consistency). Then, key in your answer using the keypad provided.

Note: Your answer should be in letters and in alphabetical order. Use the virtual keyboard to
enter your answer in the box provided below.

Question:

A. Although half of the world's people now live within a hundred miles of an ocean, a few today
have a working knowledge of the sea.
B. As a science, oceanography is still in its infancy.

C. 'More is known about the dark side of the moon than known about the depths of the oceans,'
writes the sea explorer David Helvarg.

D. Yet large numbers of people know the sea in other ways, through the arts and literature.

E. From the beginning of the nineteenth century, fiction has been imagining undersea worlds that
explorers were unable to reach.

Enter your response using the virtual keyboard in the box provided below

[quizky-text]

Options:

1. BDE
2. A, C & E
3. C, D & E
4. A, B, C & D
Explanation:

The conjunction 'although' in statement A indicates that the second half of the sentence should
have an idea contradictory to the first. Since the first half is positive, the second should be
negative. But 'a few' has a positive connotation (meaning at least a small number), while simply
'few' has a negative connotation (meaning 'not many'). So the correct term should be 'few' not 'a
few'. In C, there is a parallelism error: the forms of the verbs after 'more' and 'than' should be
parallel, i.e. 'than' should be followed by 'is known'. The rest of the sentences - B, D and E - are
correct. Hence, BDE.

Direction:

In the following questions, there are sentences that form a paragraph. Identify the sentence(s) or
part(s) of sentence(s) that is/are correct in terms of grammar and usage (including spelling,
punctuation and logical consistency). Then, key in your answer using the keypad provided.

Note: Your answer should be in letters and in alphabetical order. Use the virtual keyboard to
enter your answer in the box provided below.

Question:

A. Sunshine pierced the haze that had enveloped London.


B. It came down Fleet Street, turned to the right, stopped at the premises of the Mammoth
Publishing Company, and,

C. entering through an upper window, beaming pleasantly upon Lord Tilbury, founder and
proprietor of that vast factory of popular literature,

D. as he sat reading the batch of weekly papers which his secretary has placed on the desk for his
inspection.

E. Among the secrets of this great man's success was the fact that he kept a personal eye on all
the firm's products.

Enter your response using the virtual keyboard in the box provided below

[quizky-text]

Options:

1. ABE
2. A, B & C
3. A, B
4. C, D & E
Explanation:

There is a parallel construction error in statement C: the correct form of the verb should be
'beamed' not 'beaming', in order for it to be parallel to the verbs 'came', 'turned' and 'stopped' in
the sequence (in statement B). There is a tense error in D: since the event described is in the past
tense, the verb 'place' should be in the past perfect not present perfect, i.e. 'had placed' not 'has
placed'. Note that 'to keep a personal eye on something' in E is simply another way of saying 'to
keep an eye on something personally'. Statements A, B and E are correct. Hence, ABE.

Direction:

The following question has a sentence with one italicized word that does not make sense. Choose
the most appropriate replacement for that word from the options given below the sentence.

Question:

The internal concerns of any particular community may appear chumbolic to the outside eye; but
to be a member of a community of shared interests, is to care, deeply and in detail, about things
the general public doesn't spend much time thinking about.
Options:

1. profligate
2. picayune
3. diminutive
4. exiguous
Explanation:

'Diminutive', which means small, does not correctly describe 'concerns'; neither does 'exiguous',
which means scanty. Given the context, it's unlikely that the concerns of the community in
question seem 'profligate', i.e. immoral. They are more likely to seem 'picayune', i.e.
insignificant, to outsiders. Hence, [2].

Direction:

The following question has a sentence with one italicized word that does not make sense. Choose
the most appropriate replacement for that word from the options given below the sentence.

Question:

In the millennial year 2000, a ketico of a future that might revive the past appeared in the form of
a coyote that managed to reach Central Park.

Options:

1. harbinger
2. memento
3. progenitor
4. progeny
Explanation:

The word that replaces the nonsense word should mean something that indicates something
about the future. 'Memento' meaning souvenir or reminder, and 'progenitor' meaning ancestor,
look towards the past, and are therefore incorrect. 'Progeny', meaning offspring or descendant,
makes no sense in this context either. Only 'harbinger', meaning herald or omen, can fit in the
context - i.e. the coyote was an omen about the future. Hence, [1].

Direction:

In the following question, a word has been used in sentences in four different ways. Choose the
option corresponding to the sentence in which the usage of the word is incorrect or inappropriate.
Question:

GOOD

Options:

1. I expect a good number of people for the premiere of The Great Gatsby.
2. Carlos played good today, though yesterday he had seemed completely out of form.
3. Surely a person with such an unprepossessing visage can be up to no good?
4. He claimed his actions were for the greater good, but few others would agree.
Explanation:

In [1], 'good' means ample. In [3], the idiomatic phrase 'up to no good' means doing something
bad. 'Greater good' in [4] means general benefit. Only in [2] is the word used incorrectly - the
correct word should be 'well', i.e. the adverbial form of the adjective 'good'. Hence, [2].

Passage:

There are few buildings in the world like the great Gothic Chartres Cathedral, France, that exude
such a sense of meaning, intention, signification - that tell you so clearly and so forcefully that
these stones were put in place according to a philosophy of awesome proportions, appropriate to
the lithic immensity of the church itself. This is partly a happy accident: unlike most medieval
churches, Chartres Cathedral is no palimpsest but nearly a pristine document, miraculously
preserved from a distant world, bearing a message that is barely diluted by other times and tastes
and fashions. But the power of Chartres does not stem simply from its fortunate state of
preservation, for even in its own time Chartres made a statement of unprecedented clarity and
force.

It is, arguably, a foolhardy endeavour to say anything about 'why' Chartres Cathedral was built,
or what it 'means'. But to my mind, it is only by confronting that question that we can fully
experience what this most extraordinary, most inspiring building has to offer. Guidebook
chronologies and ground plans will not help you with that, and there seems to be little point in
knowing that you are standing in the south transept or looking at St Lubin in the stained glass or
gazing at a vault boss a hundred feet above your head unless you have some conception of what
was in the minds of the people who created all of this.

The answer is not easily boiled down. It is only by embedding the church in the culture of the
twelfth century - its philosophies, its schools and its politics, its trades and technologies, its
religious debates - that we can begin to make sense of what we see (and what we feel) when we
pass through the Royal Portal of the west front. Within the space of a hundred years, this culture
was transformed from inside and out; and that transition, which prepared the soil of the modern
age, is given its most monumental expression in Chartres Cathedral.

This transformation was fundamentally intellectual. It was not until the start of the second
millennium AD that the western world dared to revive the ancient idea that the universe was
imbued with a comprehensible order. That notion flourished in the twelfth century, fed by an
influx of texts from the classical world. Among those who read these works were some men with
ideas of their own, who posed questions that could only have been framed within a strongly
monotheistic culture and yet which presented new challenges to old ideas about God's nature and
purpose. From this ferment issued a strand of rationalism that sat uneasily with any insistence on
gaining knowledge through faith alone.

This shift of inner worlds cannot be divorced from the sphere of human affairs. We should not
forget also that cathedrals were expressions of prestige, reflecting glory onto kings, nobles and
bishops. This is why it is not enough to say that the Gothic cathedrals offer a vision of a coherent
universe - they did not erect themselves, and bookish monks were in no position to dictate their
design. Yet equally, it makes no sense to look for explanations of these greatest of the medieval
works of art that do not encompass something of the conceptual and philosophical matrix in
which they appeared. I intend to show how these elements - the spiritual, the rational, the social
and the technological - came together in twelfth-century Europe to produce a series of buildings
that are unparalleled in the West, and to which frankly we are now quite unable to offer any
rivals.

Direction:
The passage given below is followed by a set of questions. Choose the most appropriate answer
to each question.
Question:
What is the author's attitude towards Chartres Cathedral?

Options:

He considers it a magnificent and one-of-a-kind work of architecture that he hopes to visit


1.
one day.
He considers it the greatest of the medieval works of art, the like of which is no longer found
2.
anywhere else today.
He finds it an awe-inspiring and historically significant work of architecture, the like of
3.
which is no longer built nowadays.
He finds it a perfect example of twelfth century Gothic architecture that epitomizes the
4.
spiritual and secular concerns of the time.
Explanation:
Based on the description in the second paragraph, it is fairly certain that the author has visited
Chartres Cathedral himself, so the latter half of [1] is wrong. [2] is an exaggeration: in the last
paragraph, the author calls Chartres Cathedral one of 'these greatest of the medieval works of art',
not the sole greatest one. While both [3] and [4] are essentially correct, [4] is incomplete, as it
focuses only on the historical significance of Chartres Cathedral, and does not mention the
author's aesthetic admiration of it, as seen in the first three paragraphs and the last one. Hence,
[3].
Passage:
There are few buildings in the world like the great Gothic Chartres Cathedral, France, that exude
such a sense of meaning, intention, signification - that tell you so clearly and so forcefully that
these stones were put in place according to a philosophy of awesome proportions, appropriate to
the lithic immensity of the church itself. This is partly a happy accident: unlike most medieval
churches, Chartres Cathedral is no palimpsest but nearly a pristine document, miraculously
preserved from a distant world, bearing a message that is barely diluted by other times and tastes
and fashions. But the power of Chartres does not stem simply from its fortunate state of
preservation, for even in its own time Chartres made a statement of unprecedented clarity and
force.

It is, arguably, a foolhardy endeavour to say anything about 'why' Chartres Cathedral was built,
or what it 'means'. But to my mind, it is only by confronting that question that we can fully
experience what this most extraordinary, most inspiring building has to offer. Guidebook
chronologies and ground plans will not help you with that, and there seems to be little point in
knowing that you are standing in the south transept or looking at St Lubin in the stained glass or
gazing at a vault boss a hundred feet above your head unless you have some conception of what
was in the minds of the people who created all of this.

The answer is not easily boiled down. It is only by embedding the church in the culture of the
twelfth century - its philosophies, its schools and its politics, its trades and technologies, its
religious debates - that we can begin to make sense of what we see (and what we feel) when we
pass through the Royal Portal of the west front. Within the space of a hundred years, this culture
was transformed from inside and out; and that transition, which prepared the soil of the modern
age, is given its most monumental expression in Chartres Cathedral.

This transformation was fundamentally intellectual. It was not until the start of the second
millennium AD that the western world dared to revive the ancient idea that the universe was
imbued with a comprehensible order. That notion flourished in the twelfth century, fed by an
influx of texts from the classical world. Among those who read these works were some men with
ideas of their own, who posed questions that could only have been framed within a strongly
monotheistic culture and yet which presented new challenges to old ideas about God's nature and
purpose. From this ferment issued a strand of rationalism that sat uneasily with any insistence on
gaining knowledge through faith alone.

This shift of inner worlds cannot be divorced from the sphere of human affairs. We should not
forget also that cathedrals were expressions of prestige, reflecting glory onto kings, nobles and
bishops. This is why it is not enough to say that the Gothic cathedrals offer a vision of a coherent
universe - they did not erect themselves, and bookish monks were in no position to dictate their
design. Yet equally, it makes no sense to look for explanations of these greatest of the medieval
works of art that do not encompass something of the conceptual and philosophical matrix in
which they appeared. I intend to show how these elements - the spiritual, the rational, the social
and the technological - came together in twelfth-century Europe to produce a series of buildings
that are unparalleled in the West, and to which frankly we are now quite unable to offer any
rivals.

Direction:
The passage given below is followed by a set of questions. Choose the most appropriate answer
to each question.
Question:
What is the most likely source of this passage?

Options:

1. A complete article on Chartres Cathedral


2. An extract from an article on historical sites in France
The introduction to a book on French medieval
3.
history
. The first chapter of a book on Gothic architecture
Explanation:
This passage is clearly not a full article, as in the last sentence, the author states what he intends
to show further on. So [1] is incorrect. While the passage does delve into medieval European
history (but not specifically French history), the main focus is on architecture (specifically
Gothic architecture), and the historical information is meant to explain why medieval churches
such as Chartres Cathedral were built the way they were. So neither [2] nor [3] is correct, and [4]
is the most likely source. Hence, [4].
Passage:

Disgust has humble origins. At its root, it is a biological adaptation, warding us away from
ingesting certain substances that could make us sick. This is why bodily secretions and rotten
meat are universally disgusting; they contain harmful toxins. We react strongly to the idea of
touching such substances and find the notion of eating them worse. This Darwinian perspective
also explains why we see disgusting substances as contaminants - if some food makes even the
slightest contact with rotting meat, for instance, it is no longer fit to eat. After all, the micro-
organisms that can harm us spread by contact and so you should avoid not only disgusting
things, but also anything that the disgusting things make contact with. For these reasons, the
psychologist Steven Pinker has called disgust 'intuitive microbiology'.

Some of our disgust is hard-wired, then. This does not mean babies experience disgust. They are
immobile and it would be a cruel trick of evolution to have them lie in perpetual self-loathing,
unable to escape their revolting bodily wastes. But when disgust first emerges in young children,
it is a consequence of brain maturation, not early experiences or cultural teaching.

Children are prepared to do some learning because while some things are universally dangerous,
others vary according to the environment. This is particularly the case with animal flesh and so
in the first few years of life, children monitor what adults around them eat, and establish the
boundaries of acceptable (and hence non-disgusting) foods. By the time one is an adult the
disgust reactions are fairly locked in and it is difficult for most adults to try new foods,
particularly new meats.

Direction:
The passage given below is followed by a set of questions. Choose the most appropriate answer
to each question.

Question:

Which of the following best explains why Steven Pinker has called disgust 'intuitive
microbiology'?

Options:

Human beings don't need to learn microbiology, as the instinct of disgust performs the same
1.
function.
Even without knowing about microbes, humans can still avoid possible contaminants due to
2.
the instinct of disgust.
The instinct of disgust ensures that humans do not touch any harmful substances or anything
3.
that these substances have come in contact with.
The instinct of disgust performs the same function for animals as the study of microbiology
4.
does for humans.
Explanation:

Option [4] can be dismissed immediately, as there is no mention in the passage of an instinct of
disgust in animals. Option [3] fails to explain the reference to microbiology, so it cannot be the
answer. Option [1] goes beyond the purview of the passage by referring to the need for learning
microbiology, which is not mentioned in the passage. The word 'intuitive' implies something that
is done without explicit knowledge. Disgust has been called 'intuitive microbiology' because
humans avoid microbes without even knowing about them, as the instinct of disgust motivates
them to avoid contaminated substances. Hence, [2].

Passage:

Disgust has humble origins. At its root, it is a biological adaptation, warding us away from
ingesting certain substances that could make us sick. This is why bodily secretions and rotten
meat are universally disgusting; they contain harmful toxins. We react strongly to the idea of
touching such substances and find the notion of eating them worse. This Darwinian perspective
also explains why we see disgusting substances as contaminants - if some food makes even the
slightest contact with rotting meat, for instance, it is no longer fit to eat. After all, the micro-
organisms that can harm us spread by contact and so you should avoid not only disgusting
things, but also anything that the disgusting things make contact with. For these reasons, the
psychologist Steven Pinker has called disgust 'intuitive microbiology'.

Some of our disgust is hard-wired, then. This does not mean babies experience disgust. They are
immobile and it would be a cruel trick of evolution to have them lie in perpetual self-loathing,
unable to escape their revolting bodily wastes. But when disgust first emerges in young children,
it is a consequence of brain maturation, not early experiences or cultural teaching.
Children are prepared to do some learning because while some things are universally dangerous,
others vary according to the environment. This is particularly the case with animal flesh and so
in the first few years of life, children monitor what adults around them eat, and establish the
boundaries of acceptable (and hence non-disgusting) foods. By the time one is an adult the
disgust reactions are fairly locked in and it is difficult for most adults to try new foods,
particularly new meats.

Direction:

The passage given below is followed by a set of questions. Choose the most appropriate answer
to each question.

Question:

Which of the following, if true, would most weaken the argument made in the second sentence of
the passage?

Options:

In times of famine, many people wind up starving rather than trying out unknown yet
1.
possibly nourishing types of meat.
What people in one culture find disgusting, is not necessarily what people from another
2.
culture consider disgusting.
Though infants experience other emotions such as fear and pleasure, they do not experience
3.
disgust.
4. None of the above.
Explanation:

The second sentence of the passage implies that disgust is both innate and beneficial to human
beings. So, anything that questions either of these points would weaken the argument. All [2]
implies is that different cultures experience disgust towards different things, but not that the
emotion of disgust itself is not innate. So [2] does not weaken the argument. Even if [3] is true, it
does not mean that disgust is not innate or beneficial - the emotion of disgust may simply make
an appearance later in life. So [3] does not weaken the argument either. Only [1] weakens the
argument: if disgust is so strongly wired that people prefer to die rather than eat something
disgusting, then it cannot be considered beneficial. Hence, [1].

Direction:

The following question has a sentence with two blanks. Given below the question are four pairs
of words. Choose the pair that best completes the sentence.

Question:
The reasons I _______ were chiefly founded upon the impossibility of one person translating the
whole of the _______ work.

Options:

1. traduced ... colossal


2. adduced ... gigantic
3. induced ... gargantuan
4. deduced ... pithy
Explanation:
'Pithy', which means brief or to the point, does not make logical sense in the second blank - why
would it be impossible for one person to translate a pithy work? So option [4] can be negated.
The other words for the second blank mean 'very large', so they all fit. However, 'induced',
meaning influenced or caused, and 'traduced', meaning defamed, do not fit the first blank at all.
Only adduced', meaning cited, fits the first blank. Hence, [2]

' Direction:

The following question has a sentence with two blanks. Given below the question are four pairs
of words. Choose the pair that best completes the sentence.

Question:

There is no doubt that becoming a mother represents a _______ in many professional women's
lives and people still look _______ at women who express the desire to choose their career over
their children.

Options:

happenstance ...
1.
disdainfully
2. catastrophe ... dubiously
3. stipulation ... askew
4. crisis ... askance
Explanation:

All four words for the second blank fit the context, as they all mean imply suspicion or
disapproval. But 'happenstance', meaning a chance event, and 'stipulation', meaning a demand or
condition, do not fit the first blank. 'Catastrophe', meaning a great disaster, is too extreme for this
context. 'Crisis', which means dramatic upheaval, makes more sense in the context. Hence, [4].

.
0Passage:

The direction of opinion in anthropology for the last half century has been towards a reluctance
to ever discuss openly - or to commit to print - comparisons between the values of peoples in
modern industrial societies and those of inhabitants of tribal societies. This tendency to
exaggerate the exotic character of other cultures has, in particular, infected anthropological
approaches to art, where doubtful or misleadingly described cases have been used to promote the
idea that 'they don't have our concept of art'.

Such claims have been made by the anthropologist Lynn M. Hart. She has written of large
decorative paintings on mythological themes, jyonti paintings, made as a part of marriage
celebrations by Hindu women in Uttar Pradesh. Despite the fact that jyonti paintings are
straightforward, colourfully stylized depictions of Hindu mythological themes, Hart insists on

using the words 'producer' instead of 'artist' and 'visual image' instead 'art' to refer to this work (if
it is 'work'). Hart is determined, she explains, to avoid 'inappropriate Western terminology'.
Otherwise, she imagines, Westerners might have trouble appreciating that 'the images and
patterns themselves are based on religion, ritual and mythic themes and derive their meaning -
and their power - from the religious contexts of their production and use'. The indigenous.
aesthetic principles for this art, or rather visual images, are 'different from standard Western
aesthetics'.

Hart's claim that jyonti painting cannot be understood by applying concepts of Western art is
false. She would have us believe that jyonti painting is not even art 'in our sense'. At one point,
she attempts to dramatize the cultural difference between jyonti image producers and European
artists, by contrasting the image of a typical Western artist making an object that is contrived,
posed, and separate from everyday life, and destined to be displayed in a museum, with the
image of the 'producer' in an Indian village lovingly producing a conventionalized religious
image that derives its meaning from the part it plays in life, i.e. making a village wedding
special. Leaving aside the adequacy of this as a general account of Western art, it is clear that
Hart is comparing two completely different categories of activity.

The history of the West is replete with countless mothers and prospective mothers-in-law who
have laboured at embroidery, knitting and sewing, 'producing' beautiful artefacts for their
children's weddings, either as part of a trousseau or as decorative elements (e.g., decorated cakes)
for the wedding day. These beautiful - or beautified - objects can be as lovingly created by
European as by Indian women. Much of this output is cloth or fibre art, but it would also include
decorated ceramics and items of household furniture, such as cradles. Some of these objects
make reference to religious themes of fecundity and protection.

On the evidence of her text, Hart is guilty of the very ethnocentrism she so blithely accuse

s others of. She studies a genre of folk art in one culture and, seeing that it is a form of painting,
looks within Western culture to discover an analogue in painting. But if you want a comparison
for a jyonti painting, it is absurd to look at a Mark Rothko painting hanging in a New York
gallery. Jyonti paintings belong with domestic and dowry arts of cultures worldwide. Elsewhere
in her essay, Hart complains of the West's tendency to place a greater value on high-art traditions
than on craft traditions. In fact, Hart is doing exactly that herself: she is so impressed by these
Indian forms as painting that she fails to acknowledge women's craft traditions associated with
marriage celebrations and trousseaus in her own culture.

Direction:

The passage given below is followed by a set of questions. Choose the most appropriate answer
to each question.

Question:

What is the author's primary criticism of Lynn M. Hart's views on jyonti paintings?

Options:

She is misled by the exoticizing tendency in modern anthropology into seeing differences
1.
between Indian jyonti paintings and Western painting where none exist.
She is so focused on showing that jyonti paintings are not art in the Western sense, that she
2.
fails to see their similarities to Western paintings.
She is so determined to show how jyonti paintings are unlike Western painting, that she fails
3.
to notice their analogues in Western craft traditions.
She is so determined to show that Indian jyonti paintings are superior to Western art that she
4.
devalues European domestic and dowry crafts.

Explanation:

The author does not disagree with Lynn M. Hart's view that major differences exist between
Indian jyonti paintings and modern Western paintings - rather, he thinks that the comparison
between the two is meaningless (see the last line of paragraph 3). So [1] is wrong. The second
half of [2] has no basis in the passage, as nothing is stated about the similarities between jyonti
paintings and Western paintings. Also, it misses the major criticism that Hart fails to notice the
analogues of jyonti paintings in Western craft traditions (see the last two paragraphs). While both
[3] and [4] do make this point, [4] is incorrect, as Hart does not consciously devalue European
domestic and dowry crafts - rather, she is against doing so in theory, but in practice, she fails to
consider them at all. Only [3] correctly summarizes the author's issues with Lynn M. Hart's
views on jyonti paintings. Hence, [3].

Passage:

The direction of opinion in anthropology for the last half century has been towards a reluctance
to ever discuss openly - or to commit to print - comparisons between the values of peoples in
modern industrial societies and those of inhabitants of tribal societies. This tendency to
exaggerate the exotic character of other cultures has, in particular, infected anthropological
approaches to art, where doubtful or misleadingly described cases have been used to promote the
idea that 'they don't have our concept of art'.

Such claims have been made by the anthropologist Lynn M. Hart. She has written of large
decorative paintings on mythological themes, jyonti paintings, made as a part of marriage
celebrations by Hindu women in Uttar Pradesh. Despite the fact that jyonti paintings are
straightforward, colourfully stylized depictions of Hindu mythological themes, Hart insists on
using the words 'producer' instead of 'artist' and 'visual image' instead 'art' to refer to this work (if
it is 'work'). Hart is determined, she explains, to avoid 'inappropriate Western terminology'.
Otherwise, she imagines, Westerners might have trouble appreciating that 'the images and
patterns themselves are based on religion, ritual and mythic themes and derive their meaning -
and their power - from the religious contexts of their production and use'. The indigenous
aesthetic principles for this art, or rather visual images, are 'different from standard Western
aesthetics'.

Hart's claim that jyonti painting cannot be understood by applying concepts of Western art is
false. She would have us believe that jyonti painting is not even art 'in our sense'. At one point,
she attempts to dramatize the cultural difference between jyonti image producers and European
artists, by contrasting the image of a typical Western artist making an object that is contrived,
posed, and separate from everyday life, and destined to be displayed in a museum, with the
image of the 'producer' in an Indian village lovingly producing a conventionalized religious
image that derives its meaning from the part it plays in life, i.e. making a village wedding
special. Leaving aside the adequacy of this as a general account of Western art, it is clear that
Hart is comparing two completely different categories of activity.

The history of the West is replete with countless mothers and prospective mothers-in-law who
have laboured at embroidery, knitting and sewing, 'producing' beautiful artefacts for their
children's weddings, either as part of a trousseau or as decorative elements (e.g., decorated cakes)
for the wedding day. These beautiful - or beautified - objects can be as lovingly created by
European as by Indian women. Much of this output is cloth or fibre art, but it would also include
decorated ceramics and items of household furniture, such as cradles. Some of these objects
make reference to religious themes of fecundity and protection.

On the evidence of her text, Hart is guilty of the very ethnocentrism she so blithely accuses
others of. She studies a genre of folk art in one culture and, seeing that it is a form of painting,
looks within Western culture to discover an analogue in painting. But if you want a comparison
for a jyonti painting, it is absurd to look at a Mark Rothko painting hanging in a New York
gallery. Jyonti paintings belong with domestic and dowry arts of cultures worldwide. Elsewhere
in her essay, Hart complains of the West's tendency to place a greater value on high-art traditions
than on craft traditions. In fact, Hart is doing exactly that herself: she is so impressed by these
Indian forms as painting that she fails to acknowledge women's craft traditions associated with
marriage celebrations and trousseaus in her own culture.

Direction:
The passage given below is followed by a set of questions. Choose the most appropriate answer
to each question.

Question:

Based on this passage, we can infer that Lynn M. Hart would definitely agree with which of the
following?

i] Indians have a very different concept of art than Europeans.

ii] Indian art is typically based on religion, ritual and mythic themes.

iii] Western art is primarily created for commercial purposes, while Indian art is created for
domestic purposes.

Options:

1. [i]
2. [i] and [iii]
3. [ii] and [iii]
4. [i], [ii] and [iii]
Explanation:

Refer to the last sentence of the first paragraph and the first sentence of the second paragraph.
The author specifically provides the example of Lynn M. Hart's views on one form of Indian art,
i.e. jyonti paintings, in order to illustrate the view that 'they don't have our concept of art' - 'they'
in this case being Indians, and 'our' being Western/European (from Hart's perspective). So [i] can
be inferred. However, [ii] cannot be inferred: according to Lynn M. Hart, jyonti paintings are
based on religion, ritual and mythic themes, but it is not clear whether she thinks all Indian art is
also based on the same. She states that Western artists create paintings meant to be displayed in
museums; but that is not necessarily a commercial purpose - the paintings may only be
displayed, not sold. So [iii] cannot be inferred either. Hence, [1].

Passage:

The direction of opinion in anthropology for the last half century has been towards a reluctance
to ever discuss openly - or to commit to print - comparisons between the values of peoples in
modern industrial societies and those of inhabitants of tribal societies. This tendency to
exaggerate the exotic character of other cultures has, in particular, infected anthropological
approaches to art, where doubtful or misleadingly described cases have been used to promote the
idea that 'they don't have our concept of art'.

Such claims have been made by the anthropologist Lynn M. Hart. She has written of large
decorative paintings on mythological themes, jyonti paintings, made as a part of marriage
celebrations by Hindu women in Uttar Pradesh. Despite the fact that jyonti paintings are
straightforward, colourfully stylized depictions of Hindu mythological themes, Hart insists on
using the words 'producer' instead of 'artist' and 'visual image' instead 'art' to refer to this work (if
it is 'work'). Hart is determined, she explains, to avoid 'inappropriate Western terminology'.
Otherwise, she imagines, Westerners might have trouble appreciating that 'the images and
patterns themselves are based on religion, ritual and mythic themes and derive their meaning -
and their power - from the religious contexts of their production and use'. The indigenous
aesthetic principles for this art, or rather visual images, are 'different from standard Western
aesthetics'.

Hart's claim that jyonti painting cannot be understood by applying concepts of Western art is
false. She would have us believe that jyonti painting is not even art 'in our sense'. At one point,
she attempts to dramatize the cultural difference between jyonti image producers and European
artists, by contrasting the image of a typical Western artist making an object that is contrived,
posed, and separate from everyday life, and destined to be displayed in a museum, with the
image of the 'producer' in an Indian village lovingly producing a conventionalized religious
image that derives its meaning from the part it plays in life, i.e. making a village wedding
special. Leaving aside the adequacy of this as a general account of Western art, it is clear that
Hart is comparing two completely different categories of activity.

The history of the West is replete with countless mothers and prospective mothers-in-law who
have laboured at embroidery, knitting and sewing, 'producing' beautiful artefacts for their
children's weddings, either as part of a trousseau or as decorative elements (e.g., decorated cakes)
for the wedding day. These beautiful - or beautified - objects can be as lovingly created by
European as by Indian women. Much of this output is cloth or fibre art, but it would also include
decorated ceramics and items of household furniture, such as cradles. Some of these objects
make reference to religious themes of fecundity and protection.

On the evidence of her text, Hart is guilty of the very ethnocentrism she so blithely accuses
others of. She studies a genre of folk art in one culture and, seeing that it is a form of painting,
looks within Western culture to discover an analogue in painting. But if you want a comparison
for a jyonti painting, it is absurd to look at a Mark Rothko painting hanging in a New York
gallery. Jyonti paintings belong with domestic and dowry arts of cultures worldwide. Elsewhere
in her essay, Hart complains of the West's tendency to place a greater value on high-art traditions
than on craft traditions. In fact, Hart is doing exactly that herself: she is so impressed by these
Indian forms as painting that she fails to acknowledge women's craft traditions associated with
marriage celebrations and trousseaus in her own culture.

Direction:
The passage given below is followed by a set of questions. Choose the most appropriate answer
to each question.
Question:
Which of the following best describes the structure of this passage?

Options:
1. It describes a general problem, then provides a specific example of the same.
2. It analyses a general problem, then provides a specific example of the same.
3. It states a general problem, then analyses a specific example of that problem.
4. It states a general problem, then describes a specific example of that problem.
Explanation:
The first paragraph of the passage merely states a problem, i.e. the 'tendency to exaggerate the
exotic character of other cultures', especially in relation to art. It does not describe the problem in
detail, and certainly does not analyse it. The rest of the passage is taken up by the example of
Lynn M. Hart's writings on jyonti paintings. The author does not simply describe said writings,
but analyses and critiques them. Therefore, the structure of the passage is best described by [3].
Hence, [3].
Direction:

The sentences given in each question, when properly sequenced, form a coherent paragraph.
Each sentence is labelled with a letter. Identify the most logical order of sentences to construct a
coherent paragraph. Key in your answer using the keypad provided.

Question:

A. Of those species occurring on several continents (such as lions and grizzly bears), it is not the
case that individuals from one continent visit one another.

B. Most animal species occupy a geographic range confined to a small fraction of the Earth's
surface.

C. But while they do commute seasonally between continents, it is only along a traditional path,
and both the summer breeding range and the winter non-breeding range of a given population of
birds tend to be quite circumscribed.

D. Instead, each continent, and usually each small part of a continent, has its own distinctive
population that maintains contact with close neighbours but not with distant members of the
same species.

E. Migratory songbirds constitute an apparently glaring exception.

Enter your response using the virtual keyboard in the box provided below

[quizky-text]

Options:

1. BADEC
2. BCADE
3. BDACE
4. BECAD
Explanation:

[B] is clearly the first sentence. [A] follows [B] as both are linked by ‘species’. [A] and [D] are
linked: [A] mentions that species occurring on several continents do not visit each other, and [D]
states what they do 'instead'. Thus, [D] follows [A]. [E] follows next by stating the ‘exception’.
[C] follows next as it states how there is similarity despite the exception. Thus, we get the
sequence BADEC. Hence, BADEC.

Direction:

The sentences given in each question, when properly sequenced, form a coherent paragraph.
Each sentence is labelled with a letter. Identify the most logical order of sentences to construct a
coherent paragraph. Key in your answer using the keypad provided.

Question:

A. Few occupations were open to a middle-class woman who had to earn her own living, other
than a poorly paid position as a governess, even though she had probably been skimpily educated
herself.

B. And there was still no way out for a woman who found herself unhappily married.

C. It was, in part, a reaction against what seemed to be a narrowing definition of 'femininity' and
an increasingly conventional and constricting notion of a proper 'womanly sphere'.

D. Some of the issues tackled were women's urgent need for better education and for increased
possibilities of employment, as well as the improvement of the legal position of married women.

E. It was not until the second half of the 19th century that anything like a true women's
'movement' began to emerge in England.

Enter your response using the virtual keyboard in the box provided below

[quizky-text]

Options:

1. ECDAB
2. ABECD
3. EDACB
4. EDABC
Explanation:

Statement [E], which introduces the topic of a women's movement, has to be the first sentence.
'It' in [C] refers to the women's movement mentioned in [E], so we get the [E][C] link.
Statements [D], [A] and [B] are clearly linked: [D] mentions the issues the women's movement
tackled, such as women's education, employment, and the legal position of married women. [A]
elaborates on the first two, and B on the third. Thus, the correct sequence is ECDAB. Hence,
ECDAB.

Passage:

We've all, no doubt, at some point in our reading lives found ourselves at the point where we
realize that the book we're reading is not up to scratch. It doesn't matter whether it's a novel by an
author we've always previously liked, a book foisted on us by an overzealous friend, or an
intriguing debut we picked up because it had a great cover. Maybe there's a part of you that
knows within a paragraph (or, worse, a sentence); perhaps it takes 50 pages before you start to
ask yourself the question: is this a book that I should abandon?

According to a beguiling new infographic produced by Goodreads, we react to this question in a


number of ways. If you're like me - and 38.1% of you are - you'll read on no matter what, since
abandoning a book is tantamount to heresy. It doesn't matter if the book is bad, dull or eye-
bleedingly hard - you'll go on reading until you're done. The majority though, will quit a book
after a chapter or two.

What it is that makes a book abandonable? Well, obviously, there are those that are 'difficult'.
Not for nothing is Ulysses amongst the most abandoned classics. I'm sure there's room on that
shelf for Thomas Pynchon's V, David Foster Wallace's Infinite Jest and Don DeLillo's Ratner's
Star as well (although as a person who never abandons a book, I take an obscure satisfaction in
having finished all of them). But actually there's no shame in saying that a book is too difficult.
Not only is it an acknowledgement of your own limitations, which in itself is a kind of wisdom,
it's also a kind of challenge, an admission that a book is too much for me now but might not be in
the future.

Challenging reads are probably a small niche within the abandoned bookstacks. I'd hazard a
guess that the main reason people abandon books is because life is too short. Again, those good
people over at Goodreads have conducted a straw poll and the chart is currently topped by JK
Rowling's The Casual Vacancy and EL James's Fifty Shades of Grey. Whilst this demonstrates
that the kind of readers who like to take part in straw polls have short memories, it also indicates
quite well what kinds of books are most frequently cast aside: the books that disappoint
(Rowling's earnest novel for adults is a little too far from Harry Potter for most readers) and
those that you read simply because everyone else is reading them.

Which I'm sure makes me sound like the worst kind of book snob - but we're all book snobs,
whether we admit it or not. Choosing one book over another is a kind of snobbery. It's all about
our choices. The sad thing is that those choices sometimes, possibly frequently, let us down.
Whether we regularly abandon books or not, we all, from time to time, find ourselves sighing
that a book wasn't what we hoped it would be. But then there's the hope, isn't there? That the
next book - or the next book - will be worth every bit of time we invest.

Direction:

The passage given below is followed by a set of questions. Choose the most appropriate answer
to each question.

Question:

What is the author's attitude towards abandoning books?

Options:

He believes that people should never abandon books that they begin, and gently mocks those
1.
who do so.
He says that most people understandably abandon certain books on occasion, though he
2.
claims he himself never does so.
He agrees that in some circumstances it is permissible to abandon books, though he himself
3.
tries not to do so.
He admits that some books are too bad or difficult to read, and therefore should be
4.
abandoned, as he himself does on occasion.
Explanation:

The author states clearly that he himself never abandons books - see paragraphs 2 and 3. So the
second half of option [4] is completely wrong. Even [3], which suggests that the author does
sometimes abandon books, is misleading. However, he adopts a tolerant attitude towards those
who do abandon books - see especially paragraph 3. So option [1] is incorrect as well. Only [2]
correctly sums up the author's attitude towards abandoning books, both in general, and in his
own case. Hence, [2].

Passage:

We've all, no doubt, at some point in our reading lives found ourselves at the point where we
realize that the book we're reading is not up to scratch. It doesn't matter whether it's a novel by an
author we've always previously liked, a book foisted on us by an overzealous friend, or an
intriguing debut we picked up because it had a great cover. Maybe there's a part of you that
knows within a paragraph (or, worse, a sentence); perhaps it takes 50 pages before you start to
ask yourself the question: is this a book that I should abandon?

According to a beguiling new infographic produced by Goodreads, we react to this question in a


number of ways. If you're like me - and 38.1% of you are - you'll read on no matter what, since
abandoning a book is tantamount to heresy. It doesn't matter if the book is bad, dull or eye-
bleedingly hard - you'll go on reading until you're done. The majority though, will quit a book
after a chapter or two.

What it is that makes a book abandonable? Well, obviously, there are those that are 'difficult'.
Not for nothing is Ulysses amongst the most abandoned classics. I'm sure there's room on that
shelf for Thomas Pynchon's V, David Foster Wallace's Infinite Jest and Don DeLillo's Ratner's
Star as well (although as a person who never abandons a book, I take an obscure satisfaction in
having finished all of them). But actually there's no shame in saying that a book is too difficult.
Not only is it an acknowledgement of your own limitations, which in itself is a kind of wisdom,
it's also a kind of challenge, an admission that a book is too much for me now but might not be in
the future.

Challenging reads are probably a small niche within the abandoned bookstacks. I'd hazard a
guess that the main reason people abandon books is because life is too short. Again, those good
people over at Goodreads have conducted a straw poll and the chart is currently topped by JK
Rowling's The Casual Vacancy and EL James's Fifty Shades of Grey. Whilst this demonstrates
that the kind of readers who like to take part in straw polls have short memories, it also indicates
quite well what kinds of books are most frequently cast aside: the books that disappoint
(Rowling's earnest novel for adults is a little too far from Harry Potter for most readers) and
those that you read simply because everyone else is reading them.

Which I'm sure makes me sound like the worst kind of book snob - but we're all book snobs,
whether we admit it or not. Choosing one book over another is a kind of snobbery. It's all about
our choices. The sad thing is that those choices sometimes, possibly frequently, let us down.
Whether we regularly abandon books or not, we all, from time to time, find ourselves sighing
that a book wasn't what we hoped it would be. But then there's the hope, isn't there? That the
next book - or the next book - will be worth every bit of time we invest.

Direction:

The passage given below is followed by a set of questions. Choose the most appropriate answer
to each question.

Question:

The author of this passage would sympathize with a reader who wanted to abandon which of the
following books?

i] A book recommended by a friend


ii] A book that is too tough to understand
iii] An overly earnest adult book by a children's author
iv]A book that turns out to be not what one expected
v] A book that one might be able understand better in the future
Options:

1. [ii] and [v]


2. [ii], [iii] and [iv]
3. [i], [ii], [iv] and [v]
4. None of these - he does not believe readers should ever abandon books.
Explanation:

Simply because a book is recommended by a friend (as opposed to 'foisted' upon one) is no
reason to abandon it, so [i] has no basis in the passage. While the author does understand why
some people would abandon JK Rowling's The Casual Vacancy, it does not mean that he would
be fine with people abandoning any 'overly earnest adult book by a children's author' in general,
so [iii] is wrong. A book that 'turns out to be not what one expected' may in fact turn out to be
better than what one expected, so [iv] cannot be inferred either. On the other hand, the author
does express sympathy for people wanting to abandon difficult books (see paragraph 3) and even
recommends doing so if one feels one might be able to understand it better in the future. So [ii]
and [v] can be inferred. Note that option [4] is incorrect, as the author is not against abandoning
books. Hence, [1].

Passage:

We've all, no doubt, at some point in our reading lives found ourselves at the point where we
realize that the book we're reading is not up to scratch. It doesn't matter whether it's a novel by an
author we've always previously liked, a book foisted on us by an overzealous friend, or an
intriguing debut we picked up because it had a great cover. Maybe there's a part of you that
knows within a paragraph (or, worse, a sentence); perhaps it takes 50 pages before you start to
ask yourself the question: is this a book that I should abandon?

According to a beguiling new infographic produced by Goodreads, we react to this question in a


number of ways. If you're like me - and 38.1% of you are - you'll read on no matter what, since
abandoning a book is tantamount to heresy. It doesn't matter if the book is bad, dull or eye-
bleedingly hard - you'll go on reading until you're done. The majority though, will quit a book
after a chapter or two.

What it is that makes a book abandonable? Well, obviously, there are those that are 'difficult'.
Not for nothing is Ulysses amongst the most abandoned classics. I'm sure there's room on that
shelf for Thomas Pynchon's V, David Foster Wallace's Infinite Jest and Don DeLillo's Ratner's
Star as well (although as a person who never abandons a book, I take an obscure satisfaction in
having finished all of them). But actually there's no shame in saying that a book is too difficult.
Not only is it an acknowledgement of your own limitations, which in itself is a kind of wisdom,
it's also a kind of challenge, an admission that a book is too much for me now but might not be in
the future.

Challenging reads are probably a small niche within the abandoned bookstacks. I'd hazard a
guess that the main reason people abandon books is because life is too short. Again, those good
people over at Goodreads have conducted a straw poll and the chart is currently topped by JK
Rowling's The Casual Vacancy and EL James's Fifty Shades of Grey. Whilst this demonstrates
that the kind of readers who like to take part in straw polls have short memories, it also indicates
quite well what kinds of books are most frequently cast aside: the books that disappoint
(Rowling's earnest novel for adults is a little too far from Harry Potter for most readers) and
those that you read simply because everyone else is reading them.

Which I'm sure makes me sound like the worst kind of book snob - but we're all book snobs,
whether we admit it or not. Choosing one book over another is a kind of snobbery. It's all about
our choices. The sad thing is that those choices sometimes, possibly frequently, let us down.
Whether we regularly abandon books or not, we all, from time to time, find ourselves sighing
that a book wasn't what we hoped it would be. But then there's the hope, isn't there? That the
next book - or the next book - will be worth every bit of time we invest.

Direction:
The passage given below is followed by a set of questions. Choose the most appropriate answer
to each question.
Question:
Which of the following, if true, best explains the author's comment: 'this demonstrates that the
kind of readers who like to take part in straw polls have short memories'?

Options:

1. The Casual Vacancy and Fifty Shades of Grey are both very long books.
2. The Casual Vacancy and Fifty Shades of Grey are both disappointing books.
3. The Casual Vacancy and Fifty Shades of Grey are both recently released books.
4. The Casual Vacancy and Fifty Shades of Grey are both books written by women.
Explanation:
If people have 'short memories', it means that they soon forget past events. So, given the context,
the author's comment suggests that he thinks that readers have forgotten older books that they
have abandoned in the past. If The Casual Vacancy and Fifty Shades of Grey are books that have
been released recently, this best explains the comment, i.e. that people remember only these
recent books, and not the older ones. Their length or the gender of their authors are completely
irrelevant in the context. While the quotation does come from a paragraph in which the author
discusses 'disappointing' books (i.e. the penultimate paragraph), this has no direct relevance to
the issue of 'short memories'. Hence, [3].
Direction:

In the following sentence, a part of the sentence is highlighted. Beneath it, four different ways of
phrasing the underlined part are indicated. Choose the best alternative from among the four.

Question:
The millions of billions of synapses inside our skulls tie our neurons together into a dense mesh
of circuits that, in ways that are still far from understood, give rise to what we think, how we
feel, and who we are.

Options:

in ways that are still far from understood, give rise to what we think, how we feel, and who
1.
we are.
in ways that are still far from understood, give rise to what we think, how we feel, and our
2.
identity.
in ways that are still far from understood, give rise to what we think, our feelings, and our
3.
identity.
in ways that are still far from understood, gives rise to our thoughts, our feelings, and our
4.
identity.
Explanation:

The three phrases/clauses following 'give rise to' should be parallel. So they should all either be
phrases, as in [4], or clauses, as in [1], but not a mixture of the two, as in [2] and [3]. Option [4]
has a subject-verb disagreement: the subject of the verb 'give' is 'circuits', so it should be in the
plural, not the singular form. So only option [1] is fully correct. Hence, [1].

Direction:

In the following sentence, a part of the sentence is highlighted. Beneath it, four different ways of
phrasing the underlined part are indicated. Choose the best alternative from among the four.

Question:

While toiling in the two-thousand-kilometre patchwork of fields which are the Gangetic plain
today, farmers have, on occasion, unearthed substantial hoards of copper implements and
copper bars.

Options:

which are the Gangetic plain today, farmers have, on occasion, unearthed substantial hoards
1.
of copper implements and copper bars.
which are the Gangetic plain today, substantial hoards of copper implements and copper bars
2.
have been occasionally unearthed by farmers.
which is the Gangetic plain today, substantial hoards of copper implements and copper bars
3.
have, on occasion, been unearthed by farmers.
which is the Gangetic plain today, farmers have occasionally unearthed substantial hoards of
4.
copper implements and copper bars.
Explanation:

There is a subject-verb error in [1] and [2] - the subject of the verb after 'which' is 'patchwork'
not 'fields', so it should be singular not plural, i.e. 'is' not 'are'. Both [2] and [3] suffer from a
misplaced modifier: it is the 'farmers' who are 'toiling', so the word 'farmers' should immediately
follow the modifier 'while ... today'. Note that 'on occasion' and 'occasionally' mean the same
thing and both are grammatically correct in this context. Therefore, only [4] is completely
correct. Hence, [4].

Passage:

One writes, that 'Other friends remain,'

That 'Loss is common to the race' -

And common is the commonplace,

And vacant chaff well meant for grain.

That loss is common would not make

My own less bitter, rather more:

Too common! Never morning wore

To evening, but some heart did break.

O father, wheresoe'er thou be,

Who pledgest now thy gallant son;

A shot, ere half thy draught be done,

Hath still'd the life that beat from thee.

O mother, praying God will save

Thy sailor, — while thy head is bow'd,


His heavy-shotted hammock-shroud

Drops in his vast and wandering grave.

Ye know no more than I who wrought

At that last hour to please him well;

Who mused on all I had to tell,

And something written, something thought;

Expecting still his advent home;

And ever met him on his way

With wishes, thinking, 'here to-day,'

Or 'here to-morrow will he come.'

O somewhere, meek, unconscious dove,

That sittest ranging golden hair;

And glad to find thyself so fair,

Poor child, that waitest for thy love!

For now her father's chimney glows

In expectation of a guest;

And thinking 'this will please him best,'

She takes a riband or a rose;


For he will see them on to-night;

And with the thought her colour burns;

And, having left the glass, she turns

Once more to set a ringlet right;

And, even when she turn'd, the curse

Had fallen, and her future Lord

Was drown'd in passing thro' the ford,

Or kill'd in falling from his horse.

O what to her shall be the end?

And what to me remains of good?

To her, perpetual maidenhood,

And unto me no second friend.

Direction:

The poem given below is followed by a set of questions. Choose the best answer to each
question.

Question:

Which of the following best describes the poem?

Options:

It is a lament for people who lose their loved ones, including the poet who has lost his own
1.
friend.
It is a comparison of the poet's reaction to the news of his friend's death, with other people's
2.
reaction to the same news.
It is a eulogy for the poet's late friend, and for other acquaintances of his who have died
3.
unexpectedly.
It is an expression of the poet's great sense of loss at his friend's death, and his inability to
4.
find happiness again.
Explanation:

While the poem is indeed about the poet's grief at his friend's death, the majority of the poem
involves examples of people whose loved ones are dead or dying, as a way of illustrating how
common loss is. So option [4], which makes no reference to this, cannot be the answer. [2] is a
complete misreading of the poem, as it wrongly implies that the other people in the examples
react to the news of the poet's friend's death - rather, they lose their own loved ones. The poem
cannot be called a 'eulogy', i.e. words of praise written about a dead person, since it is about the
poet's own grief, not the dead friend's qualities. So [3] is incorrect. So only [1] correctly
describes the poem. Hence, [1].

Passage:

One writes, that 'Other friends remain,'

That 'Loss is common to the race' -

And common is the commonplace,

And vacant chaff well meant for grain.

That loss is common would not make

My own less bitter, rather more:

Too common! Never morning wore

To evening, but some heart did break.

O father, wheresoe'er thou be,

Who pledgest now thy gallant son;

A shot, ere half thy draught be done,

Hath still'd the life that beat from thee.


O mother, praying God will save

Thy sailor, — while thy head is bow'd,

His heavy-shotted hammock-shroud

Drops in his vast and wandering grave.

Ye know no more than I who wrought

At that last hour to please him well;

Who mused on all I had to tell,

And something written, something thought;

Expecting still his advent home;

And ever met him on his way

With wishes, thinking, 'here to-day,'

Or 'here to-morrow will he come.'

O somewhere, meek, unconscious dove,

That sittest ranging golden hair;

And glad to find thyself so fair,

Poor child, that waitest for thy love!

For now her father's chimney glows

In expectation of a guest;
And thinking 'this will please him best,'

She takes a riband or a rose;

For he will see them on to-night;

And with the thought her colour burns;

And, having left the glass, she turns

Once more to set a ringlet right;

And, even when she turn'd, the curse

Had fallen, and her future Lord

Was drown'd in passing thro' the ford,

Or kill'd in falling from his horse.

O what to her shall be the end?

And what to me remains of good?

To her, perpetual maidenhood,

And unto me no second friend.

Direction:
The poem given below is followed by a set of questions. Choose the best answer to each
question.
Question:
What point is the poet trying to make in the second stanza?

Options:

1. People suffer loss and heartbreak every day.


2. He is too upset to accept any kind of consolation being offered about his loss.
3. The fact that loss is far too common makes his own loss feel worse, not better.
4. The reassurance that loss is common makes him feel better about his own loss.
Explanation:
Option [2] might be inferable from the poet's tone, but it is not the point he himself is trying to
make. Option [1] is just a part of the point, not the whole point. Refer to the first two lines of the
stanza: knowing that loss is too common 'would not make / My own less bitter, rather more', i.e.
it would not make the poet feel any better, but rather worse to know that people suffer from loss
every day. So [3] is the answer, and [4], which contradicts it, is wrong. Hence, [3].
Passage:

One writes, that 'Other friends remain,'

That 'Loss is common to the race' -

And common is the commonplace,

And vacant chaff well meant for grain.

That loss is common would not make

My own less bitter, rather more:

Too common! Never morning wore

To evening, but some heart did break.

O father, wheresoe'er thou be,

Who pledgest now thy gallant son;

A shot, ere half thy draught be done,

Hath still'd the life that beat from thee.

O mother, praying God will save

Thy sailor, — while thy head is bow'd,

His heavy-shotted hammock-shroud


Drops in his vast and wandering grave.

Ye know no more than I who wrought

At that last hour to please him well;

Who mused on all I had to tell,

And something written, something thought;

Expecting still his advent home;

And ever met him on his way

With wishes, thinking, 'here to-day,'

Or 'here to-morrow will he come.'

O somewhere, meek, unconscious dove,

That sittest ranging golden hair;

And glad to find thyself so fair,

Poor child, that waitest for thy love!

For now her father's chimney glows

In expectation of a guest;

And thinking 'this will please him best,'

She takes a riband or a rose;

For he will see them on to-night;


And with the thought her colour burns;

And, having left the glass, she turns

Once more to set a ringlet right;

And, even when she turn'd, the curse

Had fallen, and her future Lord

Was drown'd in passing thro' the ford,

Or kill'd in falling from his horse.

O what to her shall be the end?

And what to me remains of good?

To her, perpetual maidenhood,

And unto me no second friend.

Direction:

The poem given below is followed by a set of questions. Choose the best answer to each
question.

Question:

Whom does the poet describe in stanzas 7 to 10?

Options:

1. A young woman mourning the death of a young man who was to be her future husband
A young woman who is worried that her future husband may die unexpectedly, though he is
2.
quite all right
A young woman getting ready to receive a visitor, while a young man is on his way to visit
3.
her
A young woman waiting for a visit from her future husband, who unknown to her, dies
4.
unexpectedly
Explanation:

Stanzas 7 to 10 describe a young woman getting ready in anticipation of a male visitor, whom
she loves - see the lines 'that waitest for thy love!' and 'In expectation of a guest / And thinking
"this will please him best"?'. The reference to her 'perpetual maidenhood' in the last stanza,
combined with the accident scenarios in the penultimate stanza, implies that he was to be her
future husband, but he died in an accident. She does not know about the accident - according to
the poet, she is 'unconscious', i.e. unaware. Thus, [1] is incorrect, as the woman cannot yet be
mourning. [2] is the complete opposite of the situation. [3] is an incomplete answer, as it fails to
mention that the man dies on his way to visit the woman. So [4], which makes this point, and
also states the connection between the two characters, is the most suitable answer. Hence, [4].

Passage:

Our brains may never be well enough equipped to understand the universe, and we are fooling
ourselves if we think they will.

Why should we expect to be able to eventually understand how the universe originated, evolved,
and operates? While human brains are complex and capable of many amazing things, there is not
necessarily any match between the complexity of the universe and the complexity of our brains,
any more than a dog's brain is capable of understanding every detail of the world of cats and
bones, or the dynamics of stick trajectories when thrown. Dogs get by and so do we, but do we
have a right to expect that the harder we puzzle over these things the nearer we will get to the
truth?

Recently I stood in front of a three-meter-high model of the Ptolemaic universe in the Museum
of the History of Science in Florence, and I remembered how well that worked as a
representation of the motions of the planets until Copernicus and Kepler came along. Nowadays,
no element of the theory of giant interlocking cogwheels at work is of any use in understanding
the motions of the stars and planets (and indeed Ptolemy himself did not argue that the universe
was run by giant cogwheels). Ockham's razor is used to compare two theories and allow us to
choose which is more likely to be 'true', but hasn't it become a comfort blanket whenever we are
faced with aspects of the universe that seem unutterably complex - string theory, for example?
But is string theory just the Ptolemaic clockwork of our time? Can it be succeeded by some
simplification, or might the truth be even more complex and far beyond the neural networks of
our brain to understand?

The history of science is littered with examples of two types of knowledge advancement. There
is imperfect understanding that 'sort of' works and is then modified and replaced by something
that works better without destroying the validity of the earlier theory. Newton's theory of
gravitation was replaced by Einstein's. Then there is imperfect understanding that is replaced by
some new idea that owes nothing to older ones. Phlogiston theory, the ether, and so on are
replaced by ideas that save the phenomena, lead to predictions, and convince us that they are
nearer to the truth. Which of these categories really covers today's science? Could we be fooling
ourselves by playing around with modern phlogiston?
And even if we are on the right lines in some areas, how much of what there is to be understood
in the universe do we really understand? Fifty percent? Five percent? Perhaps we understand just
half a percent and all the brain and computer power we can muster may take us up to one or two
percent in the lifetime of the human race.

Direction:

The passage given below is followed by a set of questions. Choose the most appropriate answer
to each question.

Question:

'Could we be fooling ourselves by playing around with modern phlogiston?' What does this
sentence imply?

Options:

The success of modern science in debunking false hypotheses like the phlogiston theory has
1.
misled us into thinking that we can truly understand reality.
We could be fooling ourselves into thinking that modern science is bringing us closer to
2.
understanding reality, when it is in fact taking us further away from it.
We might not realize that modern science is not just an imperfect understanding of reality,
3.
but a completely incorrect understanding of it.
We should abandon theories like that of phlogiston, which have no relevance in modern
4.
science, and concentrate on theories that are likely to be closer to the truth.
Explanation:

Refer to paragraph 4, where the quoted sentence occurs. According to the passage, phlogiston
theory was replaced by a 'new idea that owes nothing to older ones', so that means that it was
completely incorrect. Phlogiston theory is mentioned as a possible example of the category
modern science falls in, not an example of the success of modern science. So [1] is a misreading
of the passage. The idea that modern science is taking us further away from reality is not found
anywhere in the passage, so [2] is incorrect. [4] is based on a misunderstanding, as it is stated
that phlogiston theory has been already replaced by better ideas. Only [3] gets to the heart of the
comparison inherent in paragraph 4, which the quotation embodies: our modern scientific
theories may be just as completely wrong as phlogiston theory was, even though we think it
might simply be an as-yet unperfected version of the truth (such as Newton's theories were in
comparison to Einstein's). Hence, [3].

Passage:

Our brains may never be well enough equipped to understand the universe, and we are fooling
ourselves if we think they will.
Why should we expect to be able to eventually understand how the universe originated, evolved,
and operates? While human brains are complex and capable of many amazing things, there is not
necessarily any match between the complexity of the universe and the complexity of our brains,
any more than a dog's brain is capable of understanding every detail of the world of cats and
bones, or the dynamics of stick trajectories when thrown. Dogs get by and so do we, but do we
have a right to expect that the harder we puzzle over these things the nearer we will get to the
truth?

Recently I stood in front of a three-meter-high model of the Ptolemaic universe in the Museum
of the History of Science in Florence, and I remembered how well that worked as a
representation of the motions of the planets until Copernicus and Kepler came along. Nowadays,
no element of the theory of giant interlocking cogwheels at work is of any use in understanding
the motions of the stars and planets (and indeed Ptolemy himself did not argue that the universe
was run by giant cogwheels). Ockham's razor is used to compare two theories and allow us to
choose which is more likely to be 'true', but hasn't it become a comfort blanket whenever we are
faced with aspects of the universe that seem unutterably complex - string theory, for example?
But is string theory just the Ptolemaic clockwork of our time? Can it be succeeded by some
simplification, or might the truth be even more complex and far beyond the neural networks of
our brain to understand?

The history of science is littered with examples of two types of knowledge advancement. There
is imperfect understanding that 'sort of' works and is then modified and replaced by something
that works better without destroying the validity of the earlier theory. Newton's theory of
gravitation was replaced by Einstein's. Then there is imperfect understanding that is replaced by
some new idea that owes nothing to older ones. Phlogiston theory, the ether, and so on are
replaced by ideas that save the phenomena, lead to predictions, and convince us that they are
nearer to the truth. Which of these categories really covers today's science? Could we be fooling
ourselves by playing around with modern phlogiston?

And even if we are on the right lines in some areas, how much of what there is to be understood
in the universe do we really understand? Fifty percent? Five percent? Perhaps we understand just
half a percent and all the brain and computer power we can muster may take us up to one or two
percent in the lifetime of the human race.

Direction:
The passage given below is followed by a set of questions. Choose the most appropriate answer
to each question.
Question:
What is the main point of this passage?

Options:

1. The universe is too complex to be understood using the methods of modern science.
2. Human beings will never be able to understand the universe, so there is no point in trying.
The universe is too complex for the human brain to understand, though we must keep on
3.
trying with the help of science.
There is no reason to believe that the universe is capable of being understood by the human
4.
brain.
Explanation:
The main problem for the author is not that the methods of modern science are inadequate for
understanding the universe, but rather that the human brain might be incapable of doing so. So
[1] is incorrect. Though the author takes a gloomy view of human beings' chances in
understanding the universe, he does not say that we should stop trying. So [2] is unduly
pessimistic. The first half of [3] is also too extreme, as, according to the first sentence of the
passage, our brains may never be well enough equipped to understand the universe; it is not
certain that they are. The idea that 'we must keep on trying with the help of science' is not found
anywhere in the passage. So [3] is incorrect. Only [4] adequately sums up the main point, as
stated in the first sentence of the passage. Hence, [4].
Passage:

Our brains may never be well enough equipped to understand the universe, and we are fooling
ourselves if we think they will.

Why should we expect to be able to eventually understand how the universe originated, evolved,
and operates? While human brains are complex and capable of many amazing things, there is not
necessarily any match between the complexity of the universe and the complexity of our brains,
any more than a dog's brain is capable of understanding every detail of the world of cats and
bones, or the dynamics of stick trajectories when thrown. Dogs get by and so do we, but do we
have a right to expect that the harder we puzzle over these things the nearer we will get to the
truth?

Recently I stood in front of a three-meter-high model of the Ptolemaic universe in the Museum
of the History of Science in Florence, and I remembered how well that worked as a
representation of the motions of the planets until Copernicus and Kepler came along. Nowadays,
no element of the theory of giant interlocking cogwheels at work is of any use in understanding
the motions of the stars and planets (and indeed Ptolemy himself did not argue that the universe
was run by giant cogwheels). Ockham's razor is used to compare two theories and allow us to
choose which is more likely to be 'true', but hasn't it become a comfort blanket whenever we are
faced with aspects of the universe that seem unutterably complex - string theory, for example?
But is string theory just the Ptolemaic clockwork of our time? Can it be succeeded by some
simplification, or might the truth be even more complex and far beyond the neural networks of
our brain to understand?

The history of science is littered with examples of two types of knowledge advancement. There
is imperfect understanding that 'sort of' works and is then modified and replaced by something
that works better without destroying the validity of the earlier theory. Newton's theory of
gravitation was replaced by Einstein's. Then there is imperfect understanding that is replaced by
some new idea that owes nothing to older ones. Phlogiston theory, the ether, and so on are
replaced by ideas that save the phenomena, lead to predictions, and convince us that they are
nearer to the truth. Which of these categories really covers today's science? Could we be fooling
ourselves by playing around with modern phlogiston?
And even if we are on the right lines in some areas, how much of what there is to be understood
in the universe do we really understand? Fifty percent? Five percent? Perhaps we understand just
half a percent and all the brain and computer power we can muster may take us up to one or two
percent in the lifetime of the human race.

Direction:

The passage given below is followed by a set of questions. Choose the most appropriate answer
to each question.

Question:

What point is the author trying to make with the anecdote of the model of the Ptolemaic universe
in the Museum of the History of Science in Florence?

Options:

A theory involving giant interlocking cogwheels is not an adequate model of the universe,
1.
and so it has now been replaced by newer ideas like string theory.
The Ptolemaic model is a perfectly adequate model of the universe, as long as you remember
2.
that it is not meant to literally involve giant interlocking cogwheels.
The Ptolemaic model used to be considered a perfectly adequate model of the universe, but it
3.
has been replaced by newer ideas now.
Though the Ptolemaic model was an adequate model of the universe, it was fundamentally
4.
untrue, so our current models of the universe could be untrue as well.
Explanation:

Refer to paragraph 3. While the author does admire the Ptolemaic model of the universe, he does
not think that it is still true or relevant - he merely points out that it worked quite well 'until
Copernicus and Kepler came along'. So [2] is incorrect. He also points out that the model in the
museum is not meant to be a literal representation of the theory. So [1] is a misreading of the
passage. While [3] is part of the point, it is not the complete answer. Though the Ptolemaic
model has been replaced by new theories now (like string theory), the author wonders whether
these are any truer: 'But is string theory just the Ptolemaic clockwork of our time?' The
implication is that the current theories may also turn out to be as incorrect as the Ptolemaic
model. Hence, [4].

Passage:

Our brains may never be well enough equipped to understand the universe, and we are fooling
ourselves if we think they will.

Why should we expect to be able to eventually understand how the universe originated, evolved,
and operates? While human brains are complex and capable of many amazing things, there is not
necessarily any match between the complexity of the universe and the complexity of our brains,
any more than a dog's brain is capable of understanding every detail of the world of cats and
bones, or the dynamics of stick trajectories when thrown. Dogs get by and so do we, but do we
have a right to expect that the harder we puzzle over these things the nearer we will get to the
truth?

Recently I stood in front of a three-meter-high model of the Ptolemaic universe in the Museum
of the History of Science in Florence, and I remembered how well that worked as a
representation of the motions of the planets until Copernicus and Kepler came along. Nowadays,
no element of the theory of giant interlocking cogwheels at work is of any use in understanding
the motions of the stars and planets (and indeed Ptolemy himself did not argue that the universe
was run by giant cogwheels). Ockham's razor is used to compare two theories and allow us to
choose which is more likely to be 'true', but hasn't it become a comfort blanket whenever we are
faced with aspects of the universe that seem unutterably complex - string theory, for example?
But is string theory just the Ptolemaic clockwork of our time? Can it be succeeded by some
simplification, or might the truth be even more complex and far beyond the neural networks of
our brain to understand?

The history of science is littered with examples of two types of knowledge advancement. There
is imperfect understanding that 'sort of' works and is then modified and replaced by something
that works better without destroying the validity of the earlier theory. Newton's theory of
gravitation was replaced by Einstein's. Then there is imperfect understanding that is replaced by
some new idea that owes nothing to older ones. Phlogiston theory, the ether, and so on are
replaced by ideas that save the phenomena, lead to predictions, and convince us that they are
nearer to the truth. Which of these categories really covers today's science? Could we be fooling
ourselves by playing around with modern phlogiston?

And even if we are on the right lines in some areas, how much of what there is to be understood
in the universe do we really understand? Fifty percent? Five percent? Perhaps we understand just
half a percent and all the brain and computer power we can muster may take us up to one or two
percent in the lifetime of the human race.

Direction:
The passage given below is followed by a set of questions. Choose the most appropriate answer
to each question.
Question:
What is the author's tone in this passage?

Options:

1. Resigned
2. Despondent
3. Cynical
4. Jaded
Explanation:
The author is neither 'cynical', i.e. distrustful or contemptuous, nor 'jaded', i.e. world weary. He is
not 'despondent', i.e. hopeless or sad, though he believes that human beings may never be able to
understand the universe. Rather, he views this possibility with resignation, i.e. acceptance.
Hence, [1].
Direction:

In the following questions, there are sentences that form a paragraph. Identify the sentence(s) or
part(s) of sentence(s) that is/are correct in terms of grammar and usage (including spelling,
punctuation and logical consistency). Then, key in your answer using the keypad provided.

Note: Your answer should be in letters and in alphabetical order. Use the virtual keyboard to
enter your answer in the box provided below.

Question:

A. Seeking to put an end to prolonged legal battles in divorce cases; the Union Cabinet approved
a proposal which will allow courts to exercise discretion

B. in granting divorce after three years if one of the partners does not move a second joint
application for divorce with mutual consent.

C. Accepting the recommendations of a group of ministers set up recently to decide on the


Marriage Laws (Amendment) Bill,

D. a decision was made by the Cabinet to make a provision for ensuring compensation for the
wife and children

E. from the immovable property of the husband in case of a divorce, with the amount will be
decided by the court.

Enter your response using the virtual keyboard in the box provided below

[quizky-text]

Options:

1. BC
2. B
3. C & E
4. D & E
Explanation:
Statement A wrongly uses a semi-colon instead of a comma (after 'cases') - a semi-colon can be
used only when the two parts of the sentence it divides are stand-alone sentences in themselves;
the first part, in this case, is not. There is a misplaced modifier in D: the whole of C is a modifier
that applies to 'Cabinet' in D, so 'Cabinet' should be the first word in D. This would require the
statement to be reframed as 'the Cabinet made a decision ...'. There is a tense error in E: instead
of 'will be decided', the correct form of the verb should be 'to be decided'. Therefore, only
statements B and C are fully correct. Hence, BC.

Direction:

In the following questions, there are sentences that form a paragraph. Identify the sentence(s) or
part(s) of sentence(s) that is/are correct in terms of grammar and usage (including spelling,
punctuation and logical consistency). Then, key in your answer using the keypad provided.

Note: Your answer should be in letters and in alphabetical order. Use the virtual keyboard to
enter your answer in the box provided below.

Question:

A. As of July 2013, no member state has withdrawn from the European Union (EU).

B. The procedure for a state to leave is outlined in TEU Article 50, which also makes it clear that

C.'Any Member State may decide to withdraw from the Union in accordance of its own
constitutional requirements'.

D. Although it calls for a negotiated withdrawal between the seceding state and the rest of the
EU, if no agreement reaches two years

E. after the seceding state has announced its intention to leave, it would cease to be subject to the
treaties anyway (thus ensuring a right to unilateral withdrawal).

Enter your response using the virtual keyboard in the box provided below

[quizky-text]

Options:

1. ABE
2. A, C & D
3. A, B
4. B, C & E
Explanation:

In C, the correct preposition after 'accordance' should be 'with', not 'of', as the phrase 'in
accordance with' means in agreement or conformity. The verb 'reach' in D should be in the
passive voice - i.e. 'is reached' - not active voice - i.e. 'reaches'. The rest of the statements, A, B
and E, are grammatically correct. Hence, ABE.

Direction:

Four alternative summaries are given below each text. Choose the option that best captures the
essence of the text.

Question:

We generally use the word rhythm as a convenient label to describe how we organize the timing
and emphasis of the sounds in music. In fact, when we talk of rhythm in this way we are really
referring to three separate things: tempo, meter and rhythm. The tempo of a piece of music is its
pulse rate - how often you would tap your foot to it. The meter is how often you would emphasize
one of the foot taps. For example, if you are listening to a waltz you will emphasize the first tap of
groups of three - one, two, three, one, two, three. If you are listening to rock music (or most other
Western music), you will stress the first beat of groups of four - one, two, three, four, one, two,
three, four. The rhythm is the pattern of long and short notes being used at any particular time. For
example, the beginning of Beethoven's Fifth Symphony (Da Da Da Daah) has a rhythm of three
short notes followed by a longer one. You can play it as quickly or slowly as you like, but you
won't change the rhythm - it will always be three short followed by one long.

Options:

We use the label rhythm to describe three different aspects of music - tempo, meter and
1.
rhythm - though they are all distinct from each other.
We generalize among three different aspects of Western music: tempo, i.e. the rate of the
2. beats of the music; meter, i.e. how often you would emphasize one of your foot taps; and
rhythm, i.e. the pattern of long and short notes.
We use the word rhythm as a label for three different aspects of music: tempo, i.e. the pulse
3. rate of the music; meter, i.e. the pattern of
emphases of the beats; and rhythm, i.e. the pattern of long and short notes.
We generalize three different aspects of music by calling them all rhythm: tempo, i.e. how
4. often you would tap your foot to the music; meter, i.e. how much you would emphasize the
beats; and rhythm, i.e. the pattern of long and short notes.
Explanation:

Option [1] does not include the definitions of the three aspects of music; also, it implies that the
label rhythm should not be used for them - an idea not found in the passage. So it can be ruled
out. Option [2] fails to mention that the general label for these three aspects is rhythm; also, it
talks only of Western music, while the passage is about music in general (though the examples
are from Western music). Option [4] incorrectly defines meter as 'how much you would
emphasize the beats', as opposed to 'how often you would emphasize the beats'. Only [3]
correctly summarizes the paragraph. Hence, [3].

Direction:

Four alternative summaries are given below each text. Choose the option that best captures the
essence of the text.

Question:

Throughout the Classical Period and the Middle Ages, writers constantly confused carrots and
parsnips. This may seem odd given that the average carrot is about six inches long and reddish-
orange while a parsnip is off-white and can grow 3 feet, but this distinction was much less
obvious before early modern plant breeders got to work. The orange carrot is a product of the
16th and 17th centuries. Its original colour varied between dirty white and pinkish purple. Both
vegetables have also got much fatter and fleshier in recent centuries, and parsnips may have been
bred to be longer as well. In other words early medieval carrots and parsnips were both thin and
woody and mostly of a vaguely whitish colour. This being the case, almost everyone up to the
early modern period can perhaps be forgiven for failing to distinguish between the two, however
frustrating this may be for the modern food or agriculture historian.

Options:

In the past, carrots and parsnips looked similar - i.e. thin and woody and vaguely whitish - as
1.
opposed to their fatter, fleshier and more colourful modern forms.
It is understandable that until the 16th or 17th centuries, writers used to mix up carrots and
2.
parsnips, as the two looked similar back then, as opposed to the modern orange carrots.
In the Classical Period and the Middle Ages, writers used to confuse carrots and parsnips,
3.
because though the two vegetables look different now, they looked similar then.
While it may seem odd or frustrating that pre-early modern writers confused carrots and
4.
parsnips, it is understandable given that the two looked much more similar then.
Explanation:

Option [1] misses one of the main points of the passage i.e. writers constantly confused carrots
and parsnips. Option [2] mentions that the confusion lasted until the 16th or 17th centuries, but this
is not inferable from the passage, which says the confusion lasted until the 'early modern period'.
Between [3] and [4], the latter is a better summary, as it also mentions that the confusion is
understandable, though it may seem odd or frustrating to modern eyes. Hence, [4].

Direction:
For the word given below, a context is provided. From the alternatives given, pick the word that
is closest in meaning in the given context.

Question:

Cogent: In his book, Descent of Man, Darwin did not offer any cogent reason as to why ancient
man had started to walk upright, and it was not until 1889 that Wallace suggested it could well
have been an adaptation to a new environment.

Options:

1. cognizant
2. consistent
3. convincing
4. congenial
Explanation:

Neither 'cognizant', meaning aware, nor 'congenial', meaning friendly or compatible, can fit into
this context. While 'consistent', meaning in agreement with, could fit into the context, it is not a
synonym of 'cogent'. Only 'convincing', meaning persuasive, means the same as 'cogent'. Hence,
[3].

Passage:

There is an often-articulated notion that if there is any consolation in the prospect of mass
extinction, it is that at the end of the tunnel a new fauna emerges. According to this line of
reasoning, the great sacrifice of species is a cleansing of the planet, making way for a renewal.
The hope is that after the mass extinction is over, a new age of some sort will dawn - a better,
more diverse age. After all, this seems to have been the pattern after the two greatest of all mass
extinctions - when the dinosaurs took over from the mammal-like reptiles at the end of the
Permian, and the mammals from the dinosaurs at the end of the Cretaceous. Could it be that after
the next mass extinction, some completely unforeseen group might take over, such as giant
insects (biomechanically impossible), or maybe even something totally new?

What might this new evolutionary biota be like? Can we imagine an entirely new type of animal
that could replace the current evolutionary dominants, the large mammals? This new class would
have to have evolved from some currently existing creature, but it could have characteristics and
a body plan vastly different from those of the preceding dominants. Let us imagine such a
breakthrough - the conquest of the lower atmosphere by floating organisms called Zeppelinoids.

After the extinction of most mammals (and humanity), Zeppelinoids evolve, let's say from some
species of toad, whose large gullet can swell outward and become a large gasbag. The great
breakthrough comes when the toad evolves a biological mechanism inducing electrolysis of
hydrogen from water. Gradually the toad evolves a way to store this light gas in its gullet, thus
producing a gasbag. Sooner or later small toads are floating off into the sky for short hops. More
refinement and a set of wings give a modicum of directionality. Legs become tentacles, trailing
down from the now thoroughly flight-adapted creatures, which can no longer be called toads:
they have evolved a new body plan establishing them as a new class of vertebrates, the Class
Zeppelinoida. Like so many newly evolving creatures, the Zeps rapidly increase in size.
Eventually they reach dimensions greater than the blue whale and are the largest animals ever to
have evolved on Earth, so large that terrestrial and avian predators no longer threaten them. Their
only threat comes from lightning strikes, which result in spectacular, fatal explosions visible for
miles.

Their design is so successful that they quickly diverge into many different types. Soon
herbivorous forms are common, floating above the forests, eating the tops of trees, while others
evolve into Zep-eating Zeps. The world changes as more and more Zeps prowl the air, filling the
skies with their numbers, their shadows dominating the landscape. It is the Age of Zeppelinoids.

A fairy tale - but there is a glimmer of reality in this fable. Evolution in the past has produced
vast numbers of new species following some new morphological breakthrough that allows some
lucky winner to colonize a previously unexploited habitat. The first flying organisms, the first
swimming organisms, the first floating organisms, all followed these breakthroughs with huge
numbers of new species quickly radiating from the ancestral body type, all improving some
aspects of design or changing styles to allow variations to the original theme.

But is the fundamental assumption underlying this scenario - a long period of extinction followed
by the emergence of a new class of evolutionary dominants - at all likely? No. For just as
humanity has changed the 'rules' of evolution that have operated on this planet for hundreds of
millions of years, so too has the usual sequence of events following mass extinction been
modified.

Direction:

The passage given below is followed by a set of questions. Choose the most appropriate answer
to each question.

Question:

Which of the following best describes the example of the Zeppelinoids in relation to this
passage?

Options:

1. A pointless digression
2. An impossible fairy tale
3. A fanciful thought-experiment
4. An unlikely hypothetical scenario
Explanation:

Given that the Zeppelinoids example takes up about half the passage, it can hardly be called a
'digression', so [1] is incorrect. Though the passage itself refers to the example as a 'fairy tale' in
the penultimate paragraph, the same sentence makes it clear that it is not an impossible one. This
is not exactly a 'thought-experiment', as there is no experimentation going on - the example is
merely presented as a 'hypothetical scenario'. And as the last paragraph makes clear, it is not a
very likely one. Hence, [4].

Passage:

There is an often-articulated notion that if there is any consolation in the prospect of mass
extinction, it is that at the end of the tunnel a new fauna emerges. According to this line of
reasoning, the great sacrifice of species is a cleansing of the planet, making way for a renewal.
The hope is that after the mass extinction is over, a new age of some sort will dawn - a better,
more diverse age. After all, this seems to have been the pattern after the two greatest of all mass
extinctions - when the dinosaurs took over from the mammal-like reptiles at the end of the
Permian, and the mammals from the dinosaurs at the end of the Cretaceous. Could it be that after
the next mass extinction, some completely unforeseen group might take over, such as giant
insects (biomechanically impossible), or maybe even something totally new?

What might this new evolutionary biota be like? Can we imagine an entirely new type of animal
that could replace the current evolutionary dominants, the large mammals? This new class would
have to have evolved from some currently existing creature, but it could have characteristics and
a body plan vastly different from those of the preceding dominants. Let us imagine such a
breakthrough - the conquest of the lower atmosphere by floating organisms called Zeppelinoids.

After the extinction of most mammals (and humanity), Zeppelinoids evolve, let's say from some
species of toad, whose large gullet can swell outward and become a large gasbag. The great
breakthrough comes when the toad evolves a biological mechanism inducing electrolysis of
hydrogen from water. Gradually the toad evolves a way to store this light gas in its gullet, thus
producing a gasbag. Sooner or later small toads are floating off into the sky for short hops. More
refinement and a set of wings give a modicum of directionality. Legs become tentacles, trailing
down from the now thoroughly flight-adapted creatures, which can no longer be called toads:
they have evolved a new body plan establishing them as a new class of vertebrates, the Class
Zeppelinoida. Like so many newly evolving creatures, the Zeps rapidly increase in size.
Eventually they reach dimensions greater than the blue whale and are the largest animals ever to
have evolved on Earth, so large that terrestrial and avian predators no longer threaten them. Their
only threat comes from lightning strikes, which result in spectacular, fatal explosions visible for
miles.

Their design is so successful that they quickly diverge into many different types. Soon
herbivorous forms are common, floating above the forests, eating the tops of trees, while others
evolve into Zep-eating Zeps. The world changes as more and more Zeps prowl the air, filling the
skies with their numbers, their shadows dominating the landscape. It is the Age of Zeppelinoids.
A fairy tale - but there is a glimmer of reality in this fable. Evolution in the past has produced
vast numbers of new species following some new morphological breakthrough that allows some
lucky winner to colonize a previously unexploited habitat. The first flying organisms, the first
swimming organisms, the first floating organisms, all followed these breakthroughs with huge
numbers of new species quickly radiating from the ancestral body type, all improving some
aspects of design or changing styles to allow variations to the original theme.

But is the fundamental assumption underlying this scenario - a long period of extinction followed
by the emergence of a new class of evolutionary dominants - at all likely? No. For just as
humanity has changed the 'rules' of evolution that have operated on this planet for hundreds of
millions of years, so too has the usual sequence of events following mass extinction been
modified.

Direction:
The passage given below is followed by a set of questions. Choose the most appropriate answer
to each question.
Question:
Which of the following is true about the Zeppelinoids, as per this passage?

Options:

1. Some Zeppelinoids might be cannibalistic.


2. Zeppelinoids would no longer belong to the class of vertebrates.
3. The legs of the original toads would evolve into the Zeppelinoids' wings.
4. Zeppelinoids' gasbags would be filled with hydrogen and water vapour.
Explanation:
Option [2] contradicts paragraph 3, which states that the Zeppelinoids would become a new class
of vertebrates. The same paragraph states that the original toads' legs would become the
Zeppelinoids' tentacles not wings, so [3] is incorrect. There is no mention of the gasbags being
filled with water vapour, only hydrogen, so [4] is false. Only [1] is correct: the reference to 'Zep-
eating Zeps' in paragraph 4 suggests that some Zeppelinoids would be cannibalistic. Hence, [1].
Passage:

There is an often-articulated notion that if there is any consolation in the prospect of mass
extinction, it is that at the end of the tunnel a new fauna emerges. According to this line of
reasoning, the great sacrifice of species is a cleansing of the planet, making way for a renewal.
The hope is that after the mass extinction is over, a new age of some sort will dawn - a better,
more diverse age. After all, this seems to have been the pattern after the two greatest of all mass
extinctions - when the dinosaurs took over from the mammal-like reptiles at the end of the
Permian, and the mammals from the dinosaurs at the end of the Cretaceous. Could it be that after
the next mass extinction, some completely unforeseen group might take over, such as giant
insects (biomechanically impossible), or maybe even something totally new?

What might this new evolutionary biota be like? Can we imagine an entirely new type of animal
that could replace the current evolutionary dominants, the large mammals? This new class would
have to have evolved from some currently existing creature, but it could have characteristics and
a body plan vastly different from those of the preceding dominants. Let us imagine such a
breakthrough - the conquest of the lower atmosphere by floating organisms called Zeppelinoids.

After the extinction of most mammals (and humanity), Zeppelinoids evolve, let's say from some
species of toad, whose large gullet can swell outward and become a large gasbag. The great
breakthrough comes when the toad evolves a biological mechanism inducing electrolysis of
hydrogen from water. Gradually the toad evolves a way to store this light gas in its gullet, thus
producing a gasbag. Sooner or later small toads are floating off into the sky for short hops. More
refinement and a set of wings give a modicum of directionality. Legs become tentacles, trailing
down from the now thoroughly flight-adapted creatures, which can no longer be called toads:
they have evolved a new body plan establishing them as a new class of vertebrates, the Class
Zeppelinoida. Like so many newly evolving creatures, the Zeps rapidly increase in size.
Eventually they reach dimensions greater than the blue whale and are the largest animals ever to
have evolved on Earth, so large that terrestrial and avian predators no longer threaten them. Their
only threat comes from lightning strikes, which result in spectacular, fatal explosions visible for
miles.

Their design is so successful that they quickly diverge into many different types. Soon
herbivorous forms are common, floating above the forests, eating the tops of trees, while others
evolve into Zep-eating Zeps. The world changes as more and more Zeps prowl the air, filling the
skies with their numbers, their shadows dominating the landscape. It is the Age of Zeppelinoids.

A fairy tale - but there is a glimmer of reality in this fable. Evolution in the past has produced
vast numbers of new species following some new morphological breakthrough that allows some
lucky winner to colonize a previously unexploited habitat. The first flying organisms, the first
swimming organisms, the first floating organisms, all followed these breakthroughs with huge
numbers of new species quickly radiating from the ancestral body type, all improving some
aspects of design or changing styles to allow variations to the original theme.

But is the fundamental assumption underlying this scenario - a long period of extinction followed
by the emergence of a new class of evolutionary dominants - at all likely? No. For just as
humanity has changed the 'rules' of evolution that have operated on this planet for hundreds of
millions of years, so too has the usual sequence of events following mass extinction been
modified.

Direction:
The passage given below is followed by a set of questions. Choose the most appropriate answer
to each question.
Question:
What is the main point of this passage?

Options:

1. To indulge in a whimsical though unlikely possibility about future evolution


2. To suggest possible paths evolution could take following the next mass extinction
To wonder whether the dominant life forms following the next extinction will be
3.
Zeppelinoids or something similar
To show how an existing life form such as certain species of toads could evolve into
4.
floating animals called Zeppelinoids
Explanation:
The passage mentions only one possible path for future evolution (i.e. Zeppelinoids), and the
last paragraph makes it clear that it's unlikely to happen, so [2] is incorrect. The last paragraph
also makes it clear that the author is not seriously wondering whether Zeppelinoids or
something similar will eventually evolve, so [3] is wrong. Option [4] is a misreading of the
passage, as it fails to state that the example of the Zeppelinoids is only a fantasy. Both these
points "“ the fantasy aspect of the Zeppelinoids and the improbability of their ever evolving "“ are
covered in option [1], which therefore succinctly states the main point of the passage.

Hence, [1].
Passage:

There are few buildings in the world like the great Gothic Chartres Cathedral, France, that exude
such a sense of meaning, intention, signification - that tell you so clearly and so forcefully that
these stones were put in place according to a philosophy of awesome proportions, appropriate to
the lithic immensity of the church itself. This is partly a happy accident: unlike most medieval
churches, Chartres Cathedral is no palimpsest but nearly a pristine document, miraculously
preserved from a distant world, bearing a message that is barely diluted by other times and tastes
and fashions. But the power of Chartres does not stem simply from its fortunate state of
preservation, for even in its own time Chartres made a statement of unprecedented clarity and
force.

It is, arguably, a foolhardy endeavour to say anything about 'why' Chartres Cathedral was built,
or what it 'means'. But to my mind, it is only by confronting that question that we can fully
experience what this most extraordinary, most inspiring building has to offer. Guidebook
chronologies and ground plans will not help you with that, and there seems to be little point in
knowing that you are standing in the south transept or looking at St Lubin in the stained glass or
gazing at a vault boss a hundred feet above your head unless you have some conception of what
was in the minds of the people who created all of this.

The answer is not easily boiled down. It is only by embedding the church in the culture of the
twelfth century - its philosophies, its schools and its politics, its trades and technologies, its
religious debates - that we can begin to make sense of what we see (and what we feel) when we
pass through the Royal Portal of the west front. Within the space of a hundred years, this culture
was transformed from inside and out; and that transition, which prepared the soil of the modern
age, is given its most monumental expression in Chartres Cathedral.

This transformation was fundamentally intellectual. It was not until the start of the second
millennium AD that the western world dared to revive the ancient idea that the universe was
imbued with a comprehensible order. That notion flourished in the twelfth century, fed by an
influx of texts from the classical world. Among those who read these works were some men with
ideas of their own, who posed questions that could only have been framed within a strongly
monotheistic culture and yet which presented new challenges to old ideas about God's nature and
purpose. From this ferment issued a strand of rationalism that sat uneasily with any insistence on
gaining knowledge through faith alone.

This shift of inner worlds cannot be divorced from the sphere of human affairs. We should not
forget also that cathedrals were expressions of prestige, reflecting glory onto kings, nobles and
bishops. This is why it is not enough to say that the Gothic cathedrals offer a vision of a coherent
universe - they did not erect themselves, and bookish monks were in no position to dictate their
design. Yet equally, it makes no sense to look for explanations of these greatest of the medieval
works of art that do not encompass something of the conceptual and philosophical matrix in
which they appeared. I intend to show how these elements - the spiritual, the rational, the social
and the technological - came together in twelfth-century Europe to produce a series of buildings
that are unparalleled in the West, and to which frankly we are now quite unable to offer any
rivals.

Direction:

The passage given below is followed by a set of questions. Choose the most appropriate answer
to each question.

Question:

'Chartres Cathedral is no palimpsest but nearly a pristine document'. What does this statement
most likely mean in the context of this passage?

Options:

1. Chartres Cathedral was built from scratch, not on the ruins of an older building.
Few later changes were made to Chartres Cathedral, so it remains in the state it was when it
2.
was completed.
Chartres Cathedral was not in use for many centuries, so it has remained in the style in which
3.
it was originally built.
Chartres Cathedral was the first one built in the Gothic style, so it remains the perfect
4.
embodiment of that style.
Explanation:

'Palimpsest' literally means a document on which existing text has been erased to make room for
new text to be written. Figuratively, it can refer to something in which newer items or structures
have been added onto older similar items or structures. So in the context of the first paragraph,
we can infer that Chartres Cathedral is not a palimpsest in the sense that it has not been altered
substantially through the ages - a reading supported by the reference to its 'miraculous' state of
preservation. There is no evidence to support the idea that the reason for the preservation is the
lack of use (as in [3]); the author does not give a clue to whether [1] is true; and [4] has nothing
to do with the 'palimpsest' idea. Hence, [2].
Passage:

There are few buildings in the world like the great Gothic Chartres Cathedral, France, that exude
such a sense of meaning, intention, signification - that tell you so clearly and so forcefully that
these stones were put in place according to a philosophy of awesome proportions, appropriate to
the lithic immensity of the church itself. This is partly a happy accident: unlike most medieval
churches, Chartres Cathedral is no palimpsest but nearly a pristine document, miraculously
preserved from a distant world, bearing a message that is barely diluted by other times and tastes
and fashions. But the power of Chartres does not stem simply from its fortunate state of
preservation, for even in its own time Chartres made a statement of unprecedented clarity and
force.

It is, arguably, a foolhardy endeavour to say anything about 'why' Chartres Cathedral was built,
or what it 'means'. But to my mind, it is only by confronting that question that we can fully
experience what this most extraordinary, most inspiring building has to offer. Guidebook
chronologies and ground plans will not help you with that, and there seems to be little point in
knowing that you are standing in the south transept or looking at St Lubin in the stained glass or
gazing at a vault boss a hundred feet above your head unless you have some conception of what
was in the minds of the people who created all of this.

The answer is not easily boiled down. It is only by embedding the church in the culture of the
twelfth century - its philosophies, its schools and its politics, its trades and technologies, its
religious debates - that we can begin to make sense of what we see (and what we feel) when we
pass through the Royal Portal of the west front. Within the space of a hundred years, this culture
was transformed from inside and out; and that transition, which prepared the soil of the modern
age, is given its most monumental expression in Chartres Cathedral.

This transformation was fundamentally intellectual. It was not until the start of the second
millennium AD that the western world dared to revive the ancient idea that the universe was
imbued with a comprehensible order. That notion flourished in the twelfth century, fed by an
influx of texts from the classical world. Among those who read these works were some men with
ideas of their own, who posed questions that could only have been framed within a strongly
monotheistic culture and yet which presented new challenges to old ideas about God's nature and
purpose. From this ferment issued a strand of rationalism that sat uneasily with any insistence on
gaining knowledge through faith alone.

This shift of inner worlds cannot be divorced from the sphere of human affairs. We should not
forget also that cathedrals were expressions of prestige, reflecting glory onto kings, nobles and
bishops. This is why it is not enough to say that the Gothic cathedrals offer a vision of a coherent
universe - they did not erect themselves, and bookish monks were in no position to dictate their
design. Yet equally, it makes no sense to look for explanations of these greatest of the medieval
works of art that do not encompass something of the conceptual and philosophical matrix in
which they appeared. I intend to show how these elements - the spiritual, the rational, the social
and the technological - came together in twelfth-century Europe to produce a series of buildings
that are unparalleled in the West, and to which frankly we are now quite unable to offer any
rivals.
Direction:

The passage given below is followed by a set of questions. Choose the most appropriate answer
to each question.

Question:

'Chartres Cathedral is no palimpsest but nearly a pristine document'. What does this statement
most likely mean in the context of this passage?

Options:

1. Chartres Cathedral was built from scratch, not on the ruins of an older building.
Few later changes were made to Chartres Cathedral, so it remains in the state it was when it
2.
was completed.
Chartres Cathedral was not in use for many centuries, so it has remained in the style in which
3.
it was originally built.
Chartres Cathedral was the first one built in the Gothic style, so it remains the perfect
4.
embodiment of that style.
Explanation:

'Palimpsest' literally means a document on which existing text has been erased to make room for
new text to be written. Figuratively, it can refer to something in which newer items or structures
have been added onto older similar items or structures. So in the context of the first paragraph,
we can infer that Chartres Cathedral is not a palimpsest in the sense that it has not been altered
substantially through the ages - a reading supported by the reference to its 'miraculous' state of
preservation. There is no evidence to support the idea that the reason for the preservation is the
lack of use (as in [3]); the author does not give a clue to whether [1] is true; and [4] has nothing
to do with the 'palimpsest' idea. Hence, [2].

Das könnte Ihnen auch gefallen