UGC NET English November 2017 Part-12

In the debate between the two birds in the Middle English poem The Owl and the Nightingale who acts as the arbiter ?

Correct! Wrong!

Which novel by Joseph Conrad presents a young captain who like Coleridge’s Ancient Mariner is haunted by the “vision of a ship drifting in calm and swinging in light airs, with all the crew dying slowly about her decks” and who feels “the sickness of my soul… the weight of my sins… my sense of unworthiness” ?

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Which of the following is an elegy on John Donne’s wife, who died in 1617 ?

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William Blake has a rare elan to provide telling images in arresting phrases. Match the phrases with the poems they belong to : (a) “mind forg’d manacles” (b) “eternal winter” (c) “fearful symmetry” (d) “crimson joy” (i) “The Tyger” (ii) “The Sick Rose” (iii) “London” (iv) “Holy Thursday”

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Who, among the following Prem Chand translators has NOT translated Godan ?

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“When Fred got into debt, it always seemed to him highly probable that something or other -he did not necessarily conceive what – would come to pass enabling him to pay in due time”. Why is Fred Vincy in debt in Middle march ?

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Pick out two Austen heroines from the following list who are right-minded but neglected in the beginning but gradually are acknowledged to be correct by characters who have previously looked down on them. (a) Elizabeth Bennet (b) Fanny Price (c) Emma Woodhouse (d) Anne Elliot The right combination according to the code is :

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In the first scene in which Goethe’s Faust appears he is dejected by the study of Philosophy, Law, Medicine and Theology, turns to Magic art to acquire infinite knowledge. But he fails and in desperation attempts to commit suicide, but refrains at the final moment. What prevents Faust from committing suicide ?

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The variety of English used between non-native speakers who do not share a first language is called :

Correct! Wrong!

“Our almost-instinct almost true : What will survive of us is love.” Identify the poem by Philip Larkin that ends with the above lines :

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Identify the story for which E. M. Forster wrote the libretto for its opera version :

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Bored Margaret Atwood All those times I was bored out of my mind. Holding the log while he sawed it. Holding the string while he measured, boards, distances between things, or pounded stakes into the ground for rows and rows of lettuces and beets, which I then (bored) weeded. Or sat in the back of the car, or sat still in boats, sat, sat, while at the prow, stern, wheel he drove, steered, paddled. It wasn’t even boredom, it was looking, looking hard and up close at the small details. Myopia. The worn gunwales, the intricate twill of the seat cover. The acid crumbs of loam, the granular pink rock, its igneous veins, the sea-fans of dry moss, the blackish and then the graying bristles on the back of his neck. Sometimes he would whistle, sometimes I would. The boring rhythm of doing things over and over, carrying the wood, drying the dishes. Such minutiae. It’s what the animals spend most of their time at, ferrying the sand, grain by grain, from their tunnels, shuing the leaves in their burrows. He pointed such things out, and I would look at the whorled texture of his square nger, earth under the nail. Why do I remember it as sunnier all the time then, although it more often rained, and more birdsong ? I could hardly wait to get the hell out of there to anywhere else. Perhaps though boredom is happier. It is for dogs or groundhogs. Now I wouldn’t be bored. Now I would know too much. Now I would know. “All those times” – the opening words of the poem locate the speaker in :

Correct! Wrong!

In the epilogue to Congreve’s Way of the World there is a warning : Others there are whose malice we’d prevent, Such, who watch plays, with scurrilous intent To mark out who by characters are meant. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . These, with false glosses feed their own ill – nature, And turn to libel, what was meant a satire. What does this warning mean ?

Correct! Wrong!

Bored Margaret Atwood All those times I was bored out of my mind. Holding the log while he sawed it. Holding the string while he measured, boards, distances between things, or pounded stakes into the ground for rows and rows of lettuces and beets, which I then (bored) weeded. Or sat in the back of the car, or sat still in boats, sat, sat, while at the prow, stern, wheel he drove, steered, paddled. It wasn’t even boredom, it was looking, looking hard and up close at the small details. Myopia. The worn gunwales, the intricate twill of the seat cover. The acid crumbs of loam, the granular pink rock, its igneous veins, the sea-fans of dry moss, the blackish and then the graying bristles on the back of his neck. Sometimes he would whistle, sometimes I would. The boring rhythm of doing things over and over, carrying the wood, drying the dishes. Such minutiae. It’s what the animals spend most of their time at, ferrying the sand, grain by grain, from their tunnels, shuing the leaves in their burrows. He pointed such things out, and I would look at the whorled texture of his square nger, earth under the nail. Why do I remember it as sunnier all the time then, although it more often rained, and more birdsong ? I could hardly wait to get the hell out of there to anywhere else. Perhaps though boredom is happier. It is for dogs or groundhogs. Now I wouldn’t be bored. Now I would know too much. Now I would know. Which of the following approximates closely a thematic statement of the poem ?

Correct! Wrong!

Bored Margaret Atwood All those times I was bored out of my mind. Holding the log while he sawed it. Holding the string while he measured, boards, distances between things, or pounded stakes into the ground for rows and rows of lettuces and beets, which I then (bored) weeded. Or sat in the back of the car, or sat still in boats, sat, sat, while at the prow, stern, wheel he drove, steered, paddled. It wasn’t even boredom, it was looking, looking hard and up close at the small details. Myopia. The worn gunwales, the intricate twill of the seat cover. The acid crumbs of loam, the granular pink rock, its igneous veins, the sea-fans of dry moss, the blackish and then the graying bristles on the back of his neck. Sometimes he would whistle, sometimes I would. The boring rhythm of doing things over and over, carrying the wood, drying the dishes. Such minutiae. It’s what the animals spend most of their time at, ferrying the sand, grain by grain, from their tunnels, shuing the leaves in their burrows. He pointed such things out, and I would look at the whorled texture of his square nger, earth under the nail. Why do I remember it as sunnier all the time then, although it more often rained, and more birdsong ? I could hardly wait to get the hell out of there to anywhere else. Perhaps though boredom is happier. It is for dogs or groundhogs. Now I wouldn’t be bored. Now I would know too much. Now I would know. Which pair of words best describes the repetitive tenor of the speaker’s unpretentious yet oppressive life ? (a) details (b) the car (c) the wood (d) the minutae The right combination according to the code is :

Correct! Wrong!