Reading Comprehension Test 45

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Question 1
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In this passage, the narrator considers his family's history and migration from Mexico to Texas, which was once part of Mexico. I never understood people's fascination with immortality.

The idea of life without end gave me chills. Even as a kid, I wanted to be among my family and my ancestors, wailing throughout a short time together. I wanted to bind Texas and Mexico together like a raft strong enough to float out onto the ocean of time, with our past trailing in the wake behind us like a comet tail of memories. But the past can be difficult to conjure again when so little has been left behind. Some families in Mexico have troves of their ancestors' belongings, from the pottery of the ancients and paintings of Mexico City in the eighteenth century to helmets and shields of the Spaniards. By comparison, my family, the Santos, are traveling light through time. Virtually nothing has been handed down, not because there was nothing to give, but after leaving Mexico to come to Texas - so many loved ones left behind, cherished places and things abandoned - they ceased to regard anything as a keepsake. Everything was given away. Or they may have secretly clung so closely to treasured objects that they never passed them on. Then these objects were lost. My uncle Lico ferreted out the past as a passionate genealogist who used research, fantasy, and spells of breathless madness to craft his ancestral charts of the branches of our family. Some are elaborate discs, in which each outward concentric ring represents a new generation. In others, quickly dashed off as notes to himself, ragged trees and jagged lines are drawn between names like Evaristo, Vivano, Blas, and Hermenegilda. In one, going back to $$1763$$, the capstone slot contains the cryptic entry "King of Spain," from whom, presumably, he believed we were descended. Subtle faculties and proclivities were passed, speechlessly, through the flesh of successive generations. The ghosts of Spanish royalty mingled with Indians, Black people, and others from every part of the world in Uncle Lico's secret genealogy. Yet, despite the ridicule of many, he managed to recover numerous names and stories. Lico knew I had some of the same magnetic attraction to the past that fueled his manic genealogies, as if the molecules of our bodies were polarized in a way that drew us both back in time, back, inexorably, toward the ancestors.
In my dreams, the ancestors who have passed on a visit with me in this world. They ask me questions they were once asked: Where did our forbears come from and what have we amounted to in this world? Where have we come to in the span of time, and where are we headed, as an arrow shot long ago into infinite empty space? What messages and markings of the ancient past do we carry in these handed-down bodies we live in today?
With these questions swirling inside me, I have rediscovered some stories of the family past in the landscapes of Texas and Mexico, in the timeless language of stone, river, wind, and trees. My great-uncle Abran was a master of making charcoal. He lived in the Texas hill country, where the cedars needed to make charcoal were planted a century ago. Today, long after he worked there, walking in the central Texas landscape crowded with deep cedar, I feel old Abran's presence, like the whisper of a tale still waiting to be told, wondering whether my intuition and the family's history are implicitly intertwined. Even if everything else had been lost - photographs, stories, rumors, and suspicions - if nothing at all from the past remained for us, the land remains, as the original book of the family. It was always meant to be handed down.

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The image of the "raft" (line $$5$$) most clearly conveys the narrator's childhood

A
Wish to escape his circumstance

B
Desire to merge his family's Texan and Mexican identities

C
Consideration of leaving Texas and returning to Mexico

D
Belief that Texas and Mexico are more similar than not

E
Awareness that he is neither a Texan nor a Mexican

Question 2
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Directions For Questions

In this passage, the narrator considers his family's history and migration from Mexico to Texas, which was once part of Mexico. I never understood people's fascination with immortality.

The idea of life without end gave me chills. Even as a kid, I wanted to be among my family and my ancestors, wailing throughout a short time together. I wanted to bind Texas and Mexico together like a raft strong enough to float out onto the ocean of time, with our past trailing in the wake behind us like a comet tail of memories. But the past can be difficult to conjure again when so little has been left behind. Some families in Mexico have troves of their ancestors' belongings, from the pottery of the ancients and paintings of Mexico City in the eighteenth century to helmets and shields of the Spaniards. By comparison, my family, the Santos, are traveling light through time. Virtually nothing has been handed down, not because there was nothing to give, but after leaving Mexico to come to Texas - so many loved ones left behind, cherished places and things abandoned - they ceased to regard anything as a keepsake. Everything was given away. Or they may have secretly clung so closely to treasured objects that they never passed them on. Then these objects were lost. My uncle Lico ferreted out the past as a passionate genealogist who used research, fantasy, and spells of breathless madness to craft his ancestral charts of the branches of our family. Some are elaborate discs, in which each outward concentric ring represents a new generation. In others, quickly dashed off as notes to himself, ragged trees and jagged lines are drawn between names like Evaristo, Vivano, Blas, and Hermenegilda. In one, going back to $$1763$$, the capstone slot contains the cryptic entry "King of Spain," from whom, presumably, he believed we were descended. Subtle faculties and proclivities were passed, speechlessly, through the flesh of successive generations. The ghosts of Spanish royalty mingled with Indians, Black people, and others from every part of the world in Uncle Lico's secret genealogy. Yet, despite the ridicule of many, he managed to recover numerous names and stories. Lico knew I had some of the same magnetic attraction to the past that fueled his manic genealogies, as if the molecules of our bodies were polarized in a way that drew us both back in time, back, inexorably, toward the ancestors.
In my dreams, the ancestors who have passed on a visit with me in this world. They ask me questions they were once asked: Where did our forbears come from and what have we amounted to in this world? Where have we come to in the span of time, and where are we headed, as an arrow shot long ago into infinite empty space? What messages and markings of the ancient past do we carry in these handed-down bodies we live in today?
With these questions swirling inside me, I have rediscovered some stories of the family past in the landscapes of Texas and Mexico, in the timeless language of stone, river, wind, and trees. My great-uncle Abran was a master of making charcoal. He lived in the Texas hill country, where the cedars needed to make charcoal were planted a century ago. Today, long after he worked there, walking in the central Texas landscape crowded with deep cedar, I feel old Abran's presence, like the whisper of a tale still waiting to be told, wondering whether my intuition and the family's history are implicitly intertwined. Even if everything else had been lost - photographs, stories, rumors, and suspicions - if nothing at all from the past remained for us, the land remains, as the original book of the family. It was always meant to be handed down.

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The primary effect of lines $$21-35$$ ("My uncle genealogy") is to depict the

A
Collaboration between the narrator and his uncle

B
Influence of the uncle on the narrator's generation

C
Unorthodox nature of Uncle Lico's methodology

D
Family's enthusiasm for Uncle Lico's research

E
Rigors of conducting genealogical investigations

Question 3
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This discussion of vervet monkeys is from a $$19844$$ book
about animal communication.
Vervet monkeys have at least three different categories of alarm calls. When a leopard or other large carnivorous mammal approaches, the monkeys given one type of alarm call; quite a different call is used at the sight of a martial eagle, one of the few flying predators that captures vervet monkeys. A third type of alarm call is given when a large snake approached the group. This degree of differentiation of alarm calls is not unique, although it has been described in only a few kings of animals. When ethologists, who study animal behavior, interpret data of this kind, they required proof that variations in animal communication signals convey anything more than information about the communicator's internal state.
The first and relatively simple question is whether the vervet monkey's three types of alarm calls convey to other monkeys information about the type of predator. Such information is important, because the animal's defensive tactics are different in the three cases. When a leopard approaches, the monkeys climb into trees. But leopards are good climbers, so the monkeys can escape them only by climbing out onto the smallest branches, which are too weak to support a leopard. When the monkeys see a martial eagle, they move into thick vegetation close to a tree trunk or at ground level. Thus the tactics that help escape from a leopard make them highly vulnerable to a martial eagle, and vice versa. In response to the threat of a large snake, they stand on their hind legs and look around to locate the snake, then simply more away from it, either along the ground or by climbing into a tree.
Knowing that the monkeys given different alarm calls when they see different predators does not establish beyond a doubt that the calls actually describe the type of predator.
When the monkeys, which are usually close to each other, hear an alarm call, each one quickly around at the caller. Like many other animals, they are adept at the judging the direction in which another animal is looking, so they can easily see what the caller is looking at. This serves much the same function as pointing. When monkeys other than the caller take the appropriate action to avoid the danger, it is difficult to be sure whether they are acting solely on the basis of the call or whether the call simply led them to look at the source of the danger. To clarify this situation, researches conducted some carefully controlled playback experiments under natural conditions. The basic idea was to play from a concealed loudspeaker tape recordings of vervet alarm calls when vervets had just seen a leopard, a martial eagle, or a large python, and to inquire whether these playbacks, in the absence of a predator, would elicit the normal response.
The experiments required many precautions and refinements. For instance, vervet monkeys come to know each other as individuals, not only by visual appearance but by minor differences in their vocalizations. They might not respond even to an alarm call recorded from one of their own companions if that individual was in plain sight some distance from the vegetation concealing the speaker. In all experiments, the loudspeaker reproduced calls of a member of a group, and the speaker was hidden in a place where the monkeys would expect that individual to be. The experiments has to be prepared with tape recordings of a known member of a well-studied group of vervet monkeys and a hidden speaker located where this individual frequently spends time. When all these conditions were satisfied, the playbacks of alarm calls did indeed elicit the appropriate responses.
The monkeys responded to the leopard alarm call by climbing into the nearest tree: the martial eagle alarm caused them to dive into thick vegetation; and the python alarm produced the typical behavior of standing on the hind legs and looking all around for the nonexistent snake. Not all ethologists have accepted the straightforward interpretation that the alarm calls convey information about the type of predator. One alternative interpretation is that the alarm calls are injunctions to behave in certain ways. Thus the leopard alarm might mean "Go climb into a tree." But even this interpretation necessarily ascribes three specific types of injunction to the vocabulary if vervet monkeys. Even such postulated injunctions would be more than a simple reflection of the internal state of the communicator.

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The author's reaction to an "alternative interpretation" $$(line 73)$$ is best characterized as

A
Offended, because it disregards the author's own observations

B
Skeptical, because it perpetrates the falsehood that monkeys possess human traits

C
Supportive, because it provides proof for a hypothesis

D
Receptive, because it is consistent with the data

E
Respectful, because it is shared by many experienced field researches

Question 4
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Directions For Questions

In this passage, the narrator considers his family's history and migration from Mexico to Texas, which was once part of Mexico. I never understood people's fascination with immortality.

The idea of life without end gave me chills. Even as a kid, I wanted to be among my family and my ancestors, wailing throughout a short time together. I wanted to bind Texas and Mexico together like a raft strong enough to float out onto the ocean of time, with our past trailing in the wake behind us like a comet tail of memories. But the past can be difficult to conjure again when so little has been left behind. Some families in Mexico have troves of their ancestors' belongings, from the pottery of the ancients and paintings of Mexico City in the eighteenth century to helmets and shields of the Spaniards. By comparison, my family, the Santos, are traveling light through time. Virtually nothing has been handed down, not because there was nothing to give, but after leaving Mexico to come to Texas - so many loved ones left behind, cherished places and things abandoned - they ceased to regard anything as a keepsake. Everything was given away. Or they may have secretly clung so closely to treasured objects that they never passed them on. Then these objects were lost. My uncle Lico ferreted out the past as a passionate genealogist who used research, fantasy, and spells of breathless madness to craft his ancestral charts of the branches of our family. Some are elaborate discs, in which each outward concentric ring represents a new generation. In others, quickly dashed off as notes to himself, ragged trees and jagged lines are drawn between names like Evaristo, Vivano, Blas, and Hermenegilda. In one, going back to $$1763$$, the capstone slot contains the cryptic entry "King of Spain," from whom, presumably, he believed we were descended. Subtle faculties and proclivities were passed, speechlessly, through the flesh of successive generations. The ghosts of Spanish royalty mingled with Indians, Black people, and others from every part of the world in Uncle Lico's secret genealogy. Yet, despite the ridicule of many, he managed to recover numerous names and stories. Lico knew I had some of the same magnetic attraction to the past that fueled his manic genealogies, as if the molecules of our bodies were polarized in a way that drew us both back in time, back, inexorably, toward the ancestors.
In my dreams, the ancestors who have passed on a visit with me in this world. They ask me questions they were once asked: Where did our forbears come from and what have we amounted to in this world? Where have we come to in the span of time, and where are we headed, as an arrow shot long ago into infinite empty space? What messages and markings of the ancient past do we carry in these handed-down bodies we live in today?
With these questions swirling inside me, I have rediscovered some stories of the family past in the landscapes of Texas and Mexico, in the timeless language of stone, river, wind, and trees. My great-uncle Abran was a master of making charcoal. He lived in the Texas hill country, where the cedars needed to make charcoal were planted a century ago. Today, long after he worked there, walking in the central Texas landscape crowded with deep cedar, I feel old Abran's presence, like the whisper of a tale still waiting to be told, wondering whether my intuition and the family's history are implicitly intertwined. Even if everything else had been lost - photographs, stories, rumors, and suspicions - if nothing at all from the past remained for us, the land remains, as the original book of the family. It was always meant to be handed down.

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The objects mentioned in lines $$10-12$$ ("from pottery ... Spaniards") are examples of

A
Artifacts discovered by Uncle Lico

B
Possessions viewed as impediments to a simple life

C
Gifts bestowed on departing loved ones

D
Necessities valued by earlier generations

E
Items bearing both cultural and personal meaning

Question 5
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Directions For Questions

In this passage, the narrator considers his family's history and migration from Mexico to Texas, which was once part of Mexico. I never understood people's fascination with immortality.

The idea of life without end gave me chills. Even as a kid, I wanted to be among my family and my ancestors, wailing throughout a short time together. I wanted to bind Texas and Mexico together like a raft strong enough to float out onto the ocean of time, with our past trailing in the wake behind us like a comet tail of memories. But the past can be difficult to conjure again when so little has been left behind. Some families in Mexico have troves of their ancestors' belongings, from the pottery of the ancients and paintings of Mexico City in the eighteenth century to helmets and shields of the Spaniards. By comparison, my family, the Santos, are traveling light through time. Virtually nothing has been handed down, not because there was nothing to give, but after leaving Mexico to come to Texas - so many loved ones left behind, cherished places and things abandoned - they ceased to regard anything as a keepsake. Everything was given away. Or they may have secretly clung so closely to treasured objects that they never passed them on. Then these objects were lost. My uncle Lico ferreted out the past as a passionate genealogist who used research, fantasy, and spells of breathless madness to craft his ancestral charts of the branches of our family. Some are elaborate discs, in which each outward concentric ring represents a new generation. In others, quickly dashed off as notes to himself, ragged trees and jagged lines are drawn between names like Evaristo, Vivano, Blas, and Hermenegilda. In one, going back to $$1763$$, the capstone slot contains the cryptic entry "King of Spain," from whom, presumably, he believed we were descended. Subtle faculties and proclivities were passed, speechlessly, through the flesh of successive generations. The ghosts of Spanish royalty mingled with Indians, Black people, and others from every part of the world in Uncle Lico's secret genealogy. Yet, despite the ridicule of many, he managed to recover numerous names and stories. Lico knew I had some of the same magnetic attraction to the past that fueled his manic genealogies, as if the molecules of our bodies were polarized in a way that drew us both back in time, back, inexorably, toward the ancestors.
In my dreams, the ancestors who have passed on a visit with me in this world. They ask me questions they were once asked: Where did our forbears come from and what have we amounted to in this world? Where have we come to in the span of time, and where are we headed, as an arrow shot long ago into infinite empty space? What messages and markings of the ancient past do we carry in these handed-down bodies we live in today?
With these questions swirling inside me, I have rediscovered some stories of the family past in the landscapes of Texas and Mexico, in the timeless language of stone, river, wind, and trees. My great-uncle Abran was a master of making charcoal. He lived in the Texas hill country, where the cedars needed to make charcoal were planted a century ago. Today, long after he worked there, walking in the central Texas landscape crowded with deep cedar, I feel old Abran's presence, like the whisper of a tale still waiting to be told, wondering whether my intuition and the family's history are implicitly intertwined. Even if everything else had been lost - photographs, stories, rumors, and suspicions - if nothing at all from the past remained for us, the land remains, as the original book of the family. It was always meant to be handed down.

...view full instructions

In line $$13$$, "light" most nearly means

A
Unencumbered

B
Illuminated

C
Nimbly

D
Faintly

E
Gently

Question 6
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Directions For Questions

This passage is excerpted from an essay about the novelist Jane Austen $$(1775 - 1817)$$.

When I read collections of letters by eminent authors, I am now and then disposed to suspect that the writers had at the back of their minds the notion that one day the letters might find their way into print. When I learn that they had kept copies of their letters, the suspicion is changed into certainty. When Andre Gide wished to publish his correspondence with Claudel, and Claudel, who perhaps didn't wish it to be published, told him that the letters have been destroyed, Gide answered that it was no matter since he had kept copies of them. Whenever Charles Dickens went on a journey, he wrote long letters to his friends in which he eloquently described the sights he had seen, and which, as his first biographer justly observes, might well have been printed without the alteration of a single word.

People were more patient in those days. Still, one would have thought is a disappointment to receive a letter from a friend only to find that it provided word pictures of mountains and monuments when you would have been glad to know whether your friend had run across anyone of interest, had been to any interesting parties, and had been able to get you the books you wanted. Most of the letters of Jane Austen that have survived were written to her sister Cassandra. Many of Austen's warmest admirers have found the letters to be paltry. These people have said they showed that she was cold and unfeeling and that her interests were trivial. I am surprised. The letters are very natural. Austen never imagined that anyone but Cassandra would read them, and she told her sister just the sort of things she knew would interest her. She wrote about what people were wearing, how much she had paid for the flowered muslin she had bought, what acquaintance she had made, what old friends she had met, and what gossip she had heard.

In one of her letters, Austen said, "I have now attained the true art of letter writing, which we are always told is to express on paper exactly what one would say to the same person by word of mouth. I have been talking to you almost as fast as I could the whole of this letter." Of course. she was right. That is the art of letter writing. She attained it with consummate ease. Since she says that her conversation was exactly like her letters, and her letters are full of witty, ironic, and malicious remarks, we can be pretty sure that her conversation was delightful.

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The "suspicion" mentioned in para 1 refers to____.

A
An uncertainty about how a letter will end

B
A doubt about the literary merit of some authors

C
A skepticism about Austen's letters to her sister

D
A belief about the way a certain group of people behave

E
A feeling about how a particular event will turn out

Question 7
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Directions For Questions

This passage is excerpted from an essay about the novelist Jane Austen $$(1775 - 1817)$$.

When I read collections of letters by eminent authors, I am now and then disposed to suspect that the writers had at the back of their minds the notion that one day the letters might find their way into print. When I learn that they had kept copies of their letters, the suspicion is changed into certainty. When Andre Gide wished to publish his correspondence with Claudel, and Claudel, who perhaps didn't wish it to be published, told him that the letters have been destroyed, Gide answered that it was no matter since he had kept copies of them. Whenever Charles Dickens went on a journey, he wrote long letters to his friends in which he eloquently described the sights he had seen, and which, as his first biographer justly observes, might well have been printed without the alteration of a single word.

People were more patient in those days. Still, one would have thought is a disappointment to receive a letter from a friend only to find that it provided word pictures of mountains and monuments when you would have been glad to know whether your friend had run across anyone of interest, had been to any interesting parties, and had been able to get you the books you wanted. Most of the letters of Jane Austen that have survived were written to her sister Cassandra. Many of Austen's warmest admirers have found the letters to be paltry. These people have said they showed that she was cold and unfeeling and that her interests were trivial. I am surprised. The letters are very natural. Austen never imagined that anyone but Cassandra would read them, and she told her sister just the sort of things she knew would interest her. She wrote about what people were wearing, how much she had paid for the flowered muslin she had bought, what acquaintance she had made, what old friends she had met, and what gossip she had heard.

In one of her letters, Austen said, "I have now attained the true art of letter writing, which we are always told is to express on paper exactly what one would say to the same person by word of mouth. I have been talking to you almost as fast as I could the whole of this letter." Of course. she was right. That is the art of letter writing. She attained it with consummate ease. Since she says that her conversation was exactly like her letters, and her letters are full of witty, ironic, and malicious remarks, we can be pretty sure that her conversation was delightful.

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The lines in para 2 ("whether ...wanted") provides examples of

A
Individual insight

B
Personal information

C
Embarrassing revelation

D
Eloquent musings

E
Dramatic statements

Question 8
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Directions For Questions

This passage is excerpted from an essay about the novelist Jane Austen $$(1775 - 1817)$$.

When I read collections of letters by eminent authors, I am now and then disposed to suspect that the writers had at the back of their minds the notion that one day the letters might find their way into print. When I learn that they had kept copies of their letters, the suspicion is changed into certainty. When Andre Gide wished to publish his correspondence with Claudel, and Claudel, who perhaps didn't wish it to be published, told him that the letters have been destroyed, Gide answered that it was no matter since he had kept copies of them. Whenever Charles Dickens went on a journey, he wrote long letters to his friends in which he eloquently described the sights he had seen, and which, as his first biographer justly observes, might well have been printed without the alteration of a single word.

People were more patient in those days. Still, one would have thought is a disappointment to receive a letter from a friend only to find that it provided word pictures of mountains and monuments when you would have been glad to know whether your friend had run across anyone of interest, had been to any interesting parties, and had been able to get you the books you wanted. Most of the letters of Jane Austen that have survived were written to her sister Cassandra. Many of Austen's warmest admirers have found the letters to be paltry. These people have said they showed that she was cold and unfeeling and that her interests were trivial. I am surprised. The letters are very natural. Austen never imagined that anyone but Cassandra would read them, and she told her sister just the sort of things she knew would interest her. She wrote about what people were wearing, how much she had paid for the flowered muslin she had bought, what acquaintance she had made, what old friends she had met, and what gossip she had heard.

In one of her letters, Austen said, "I have now attained the true art of letter writing, which we are always told is to express on paper exactly what one would say to the same person by word of mouth. I have been talking to you almost as fast as I could the whole of this letter." Of course. she was right. That is the art of letter writing. She attained it with consummate ease. Since she says that her conversation was exactly like her letters, and her letters are full of witty, ironic, and malicious remarks, we can be pretty sure that her conversation was delightful.

...view full instructions

The "people" mentioned in para 2 line 6 would probably consider the subjects listed in para 2 lines 10-12 ("what ... heard") to be

A
Representative of Austen's artistry

B
Worthy of more detailed investigation

C
Witty and ironic critiques

D
Interesting only to academic specialists

E
Boring and mundane matters

Question 9
1 / -0

Directions For Questions

This passage is excerpted from an essay about the novelist Jane Austen $$(1775 - 1817)$$.

When I read collections of letters by eminent authors, I am now and then disposed to suspect that the writers had at the back of their minds the notion that one day the letters might find their way into print. When I learn that they had kept copies of their letters, the suspicion is changed into certainty. When Andre Gide wished to publish his correspondence with Claudel, and Claudel, who perhaps didn't wish it to be published, told him that the letters have been destroyed, Gide answered that it was no matter since he had kept copies of them. Whenever Charles Dickens went on a journey, he wrote long letters to his friends in which he eloquently described the sights he had seen, and which, as his first biographer justly observes, might well have been printed without the alteration of a single word.

People were more patient in those days. Still, one would have thought is a disappointment to receive a letter from a friend only to find that it provided word pictures of mountains and monuments when you would have been glad to know whether your friend had run across anyone of interest, had been to any interesting parties, and had been able to get you the books you wanted. Most of the letters of Jane Austen that have survived were written to her sister Cassandra. Many of Austen's warmest admirers have found the letters to be paltry. These people have said they showed that she was cold and unfeeling and that her interests were trivial. I am surprised. The letters are very natural. Austen never imagined that anyone but Cassandra would read them, and she told her sister just the sort of things she knew would interest her. She wrote about what people were wearing, how much she had paid for the flowered muslin she had bought, what acquaintance she had made, what old friends she had met, and what gossip she had heard.

In one of her letters, Austen said, "I have now attained the true art of letter writing, which we are always told is to express on paper exactly what one would say to the same person by word of mouth. I have been talking to you almost as fast as I could the whole of this letter." Of course. she was right. That is the art of letter writing. She attained it with consummate ease. Since she says that her conversation was exactly like her letters, and her letters are full of witty, ironic, and malicious remarks, we can be pretty sure that her conversation was delightful.

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The author of the passage discusses Jane Austen primarily in order to

A
Compare the novels of Austen to those of Dickens and Gide

B
Contrast letters written by ordinary people with those written by celebrities

C
Explain why letters written by eminent authors are usually interesting to read

D
Emphasize the distinctive style of Austen's novels

E
Champion a particular kind of letter writing

Question 10
1 / -0

Directions For Questions

This passage is excerpted from an essay about the novelist Jane Austen $$(1775 - 1817)$$.

When I read collections of letters by eminent authors, I am now and then disposed to suspect that the writers had at the back of their minds the notion that one day the letters might find their way into print. When I learn that they had kept copies of their letters, the suspicion is changed into certainty. When Andre Gide wished to publish his correspondence with Claudel, and Claudel, who perhaps didn't wish it to be published, told him that the letters have been destroyed, Gide answered that it was no matter since he had kept copies of them. Whenever Charles Dickens went on a journey, he wrote long letters to his friends in which he eloquently described the sights he had seen, and which, as his first biographer justly observes, might well have been printed without the alteration of a single word.

People were more patient in those days. Still, one would have thought is a disappointment to receive a letter from a friend only to find that it provided word pictures of mountains and monuments when you would have been glad to know whether your friend had run across anyone of interest, had been to any interesting parties, and had been able to get you the books you wanted. Most of the letters of Jane Austen that have survived were written to her sister Cassandra. Many of Austen's warmest admirers have found the letters to be paltry. These people have said they showed that she was cold and unfeeling and that her interests were trivial. I am surprised. The letters are very natural. Austen never imagined that anyone but Cassandra would read them, and she told her sister just the sort of things she knew would interest her. She wrote about what people were wearing, how much she had paid for the flowered muslin she had bought, what acquaintance she had made, what old friends she had met, and what gossip she had heard.

In one of her letters, Austen said, "I have now attained the true art of letter writing, which we are always told is to express on paper exactly what one would say to the same person by word of mouth. I have been talking to you almost as fast as I could the whole of this letter." Of course. she was right. That is the art of letter writing. She attained it with consummate ease. Since she says that her conversation was exactly like her letters, and her letters are full of witty, ironic, and malicious remarks, we can be pretty sure that her conversation was delightful.

...view full instructions

The author of the passage demonstrates which attitude toward the "malicious remarks" (para 3 line 5)

A
Appreciation

B
Curiosity

C
Puzzlement

D
Regret

E
Cynicism

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Reading Compreh...

Question 1

Wish to escape his circumstance

Desire to merge his family's Texan and Mexican identities

Consideration of leaving Texas and returning to Mexico

Belief that Texas and Mexico are more similar than not

Awareness that he is neither a Texan nor a Mexican

Question 2

Collaboration between the narrator and his uncle

Influence of the uncle on the narrator's generation

Unorthodox nature of Uncle Lico's methodology

Family's enthusiasm for Uncle Lico's research

Rigors of conducting genealogical investigations

Question 3

Offended, because it disregards the author's own observations

Skeptical, because it perpetrates the falsehood that monkeys possess human traits

Supportive, because it provides proof for a hypothesis

Receptive, because it is consistent with the data

Respectful, because it is shared by many experienced field researches

Question 4

Artifacts discovered by Uncle Lico

Possessions viewed as impediments to a simple life

Gifts bestowed on departing loved ones

Necessities valued by earlier generations

Items bearing both cultural and personal meaning

Question 5

Unencumbered

Illuminated

Nimbly

Faintly

Gently

Question 6

An uncertainty about how a letter will end

A doubt about the literary merit of some authors

A skepticism about Austen's letters to her sister

A belief about the way a certain group of people behave

A feeling about how a particular event will turn out

Question 7

Individual insight

Personal information

Embarrassing revelation

Eloquent musings

Dramatic statements

Question 8

Representative of Austen's artistry

Worthy of more detailed investigation

Witty and ironic critiques

Interesting only to academic specialists

Boring and mundane matters

Question 9

Compare the novels of Austen to those of Dickens and Gide

Contrast letters written by ordinary people with those written by celebrities

Explain why letters written by eminent authors are usually interesting to read

Emphasize the distinctive style of Austen's novels

Champion a particular kind of letter writing

Question 10

Appreciation

Curiosity

Puzzlement

Regret

Cynicism

User

Question Analysis

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