Corso di Laurea in Lingue e Culture per la Mediazione Linguistica Traduzione Lingua Inglese 1 Prof. Isabella Martini Study Pack a.a. 2014/2015 1. Alice Munro Deep Holes Sally gets lost, then finds her way. The bank building again, the same or possibly a whole new regiment of loiterers. The subway ride, the parking lot, the keys, the highway, the traffic. Then the lesser highway, the early sunset, no snow yet, the bare trees, and the darkening fields. (p. 117) 2. Ezra Pound In Station of the Metro The apparition of these faces in the crowd; petals on a wet, black bough 3. Virginia Woolf Mrs. Dalloway
4. J. K. Rowling Harry Potter and the Philopher s Stone CHAPTER ONE THE BOY WHO LIVED Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense. Mr. Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills. He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large mustache. Mrs. Dursley was thin and blonde and had nearly twice the usual amount of neck, which came in very useful as she spent so much of her time craning over garden fences, spying on the neighbors. The Dursleys had a small son called Dudley and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere. The Dursleys had everything they wanted, but they also had a secret, and their greatest fear was that somebody would discover it. They didn't think they could bear it if anyone found out about the Potters. Mrs. Potter was Mrs. Dursley's sister, but they hadn't met for several years; in fact, Mrs. Dursley pretended she didn't have a sister, because her sister and her good-for-nothing husband were as undursleyish as it was possible to be. The Dursleys shuddered to think what the neighbors would say if the Potters arrived in the street. The Dursleys knew that the Potters had a small son, too, but they had never even seen him. This boy was another good reason for keeping the Potters away; they didn't want Dudley mixing with a child like that.
CHAPTER VII. A Mad Tea-Party 5. Lewis Carrol Alice in Wonderland There was a table set out under a tree in front of the house, and the March Hare and the Hatter were having tea at it: a Dormouse was sitting between them, fast asleep, and the other two were using it as a cushion, resting their elbows on it, and talking over its head. 'Very uncomfortable for the Dormouse,' thought Alice; 'only, as it's asleep, I suppose it doesn't mind.' The table was a large one, but the three were all crowded together at one corner of it: 'No room No room' they cried out when they saw Alice coming. 'There's plenty of room' said Alice indignantly, and she sat down in a large arm-chair at one end of the table. 'Have some wine,' the March Hare said in an encouraging tone. Alice looked all round the table, but there was nothing on it but tea. 'I don't see any wine,' she remarked. 'There isn't any,' said the March Hare. 'Then it wasn't very civil of you to offer it,' said Alice angrily. 'It wasn't very civil of you to sit down without being invited,' said the March Hare. 'I didn't know it was your table,' said Alice; 'it's laid for a great many more than three.' 'Your hair wants cutting,' said the Hatter. He had been looking at Alice for some time with great curiosity, and this was his first speech. 'You should learn not to make personal remarks,' Alice said with some severity; 'it's very rude.' The Hatter opened his eyes very wide on hearing this; but all he said was, 'Why is a raven like a writing-desk?' 'Come, we shall have some fun now' thought Alice. 'I'm glad they've begun asking riddles. I believe I can guess that,' she added aloud. 'Do you mean that you think you can find out the answer to it?' said the March Hare. 'Exactly so,' said Alice. 'Then you should say what you mean,' the March Hare went on. 'I do,' Alice hastily replied; 'at least at least I mean what I say that's the same thing, you know.' 'Not the same thing a bit' said the Hatter. 'You might just as well say that "I see what I eat" is the same thing as "I eat what I see"' 'You might just as well say,' added the March Hare, 'that "I like what I get" is the same thing as "I get what I like"' 'You might just as well say,' added the Dormouse, who seemed to be talking in his sleep, 'that "I breathe when I sleep" is the same thing as "I sleep when I breathe"' 'It is the same thing with you,' said the Hatter, and here the conversation dropped, and the party sat silent for a minute, while Alice thought over all she could remember about ravens and writing-desks, which wasn't much. The Hatter was the first to break the silence. 'What day of the month is it?' he said, turning to Alice: he had taken his watch out of his pocket, and was looking at it uneasily, shaking it every now and then, and holding it to his ear. Alice considered a little, and then said 'The fourth.' 'Two days wrong' sighed the Hatter. 'I told you butter wouldn't suit the works' he added looking angrily at the March Hare. 'It was the best butter,' the March Hare meekly replied. 'Yes, but some crumbs must have got in as well,' the Hatter grumbled: 'you shouldn't have put it in with the bread-knife.'
The March Hare took the watch and looked at it gloomily: then he dipped it into his cup of tea, and looked at it again: but he could think of nothing better to say than his first remark, 'It was the best butter, you know.' Alice had been looking over his shoulder with some curiosity. 'What a funny watch' she remarked. 'It tells the day of the month, and doesn't tell what o'clock it is' 'Why should it?' muttered the Hatter. 'Does your watch tell you what year it is?' 'Of course not,' Alice replied very readily: 'but that's because it stays the same year for such a long time together.' 'Which is just the case with mine,' said the Hatter. Alice felt dreadfully puzzled. The Hatter's remark seemed to have no sort of meaning in it, and yet it was certainly English. 'I don't quite understand you,' she said, as politely as she could. 'The Dormouse is asleep again,' said the Hatter, and he poured a little hot tea upon its nose. The Dormouse shook its head impatiently, and said, without opening its eyes, 'Of course, of course; just what I was going to remark myself.' 'Have you guessed the riddle yet?' the Hatter said, turning to Alice again. 'No, I give it up,' Alice replied: 'what's the answer?' 'I haven't the slightest idea,' said the Hatter. 'Nor I,' said the March Hare. Alice sighed wearily. 'I think you might do something better with the time,' she said, 'than waste it in asking riddles that have no answers.' 'If you knew Time as well as I do,' said the Hatter, 'you wouldn't talk about wasting it. It's him.' 'I don't know what you mean,' said Alice. 'Of course you don't' the Hatter said, tossing his head contemptuously. 'I dare say you never even spoke to Time' 'Perhaps not,' Alice cautiously replied: 'but I know I have to beat time when I learn music. [ ] "Twinkle, twinkle, little bat How I wonder what you're at [ ] "Up above the world you fly, Like a tea-tray in the sky. Twinkle, twinkle "' 6. Prova in itinere; da consegnare accompagnata da un commento traduttologico di 200 parole solo per chi non ha sostenuto la prova il giorno 25/11/2014. Oscar Wilde The Birthday of the Infanta It was the birthday of the Infanta. She was just twelve years of age, and the sun was shining brightly in the gardens of the palace. Although she was a real Princess and the Infanta of Spain, she had only one birthday every year, just like the children of quite poor people, so it was naturally a matter of great importance to the whole country that she should have a really line day for the occasion. And a really line day it certainly was. [ ] The little Princess herself walked up and down the terrace with her companions, and played at hide and seek round the stone vases and the old moss-grown statues. On ordinary days she was only allowed to play with children of her own rank, so she had always to play alone, but her birthday was an exception, and the King had given orders
that she was to invite any of her young friends whom she liked to come and amuse themselves with her. 7. Calvin & Hobbes
8. Waiting for Godot Waiting for Godot tragicomedy in 2 acts By Samuel Beckett Estragon Vladimir Lucky Pozzo a boy ACT I A country road. A tree. Evening. Estragon, sitting on a low mound, is trying to take off his boot. He pulls at it with both hands, panting. He gives up, exhausted, rests, tries again. As before. Enter Vladimir. ESTRAGON: (giving up again). Nothing to be done. VLADIMIR: (advancing with short, stiff strides, legs wide apart). I'm beginning to come round to that opinion. All my life I've tried to put it from me, saying Vladimir, be reasonable, you haven't yet tried everything. And I resumed the struggle. (He broods, musing on the struggle. Turning to Estragon.) So there you are again. ESTRAGON: Am I? VLADIMIR: I'm glad to see you back. I thought you were gone forever. ESTRAGON: Me too. VLADIMIR: Together again at last We'll have to celebrate this. But how? (He reflects.) Get up till I embrace you. ESTRAGON: (irritably). Not now, not now. VLADIMIR: (hurt, coldly). May one inquire where His Highness spent the night? ESTRAGON: In a ditch. VLADIMIR: (admiringly). A ditch Where? ESTRAGON: (without gesture). Over there.
VLADIMIR: And they didn't beat you? ESTRAGON: Beat me? Certainly they beat me. VLADIMIR: The same lot as usual? ESTRAGON: The same? I don't know. VLADIMIR: When I think of it... all these years... but for me... where would you be... (Decisively.) You'd be nothing more than a little heap of bones at the present minute, no doubt about it. ESTRAGON: And what of it? VLADIMIR: (gloomily). It's too much for one man. (Pause. Cheerfully.) On the other hand what's the good of losing heart now, that's what I say. We should have thought of it a million years ago, in the nineties. ESTRAGON: Ah stop blathering and help me off with this bloody thing. VLADIMIR: Hand in hand from the top of the Eiffel Tower, among the first. We were respectable in those days. Now it's too late. They wouldn't even let us up. (Estragon tears at his boot.) What are you doing? ESTRAGON: Taking off my boot. Did that never happen to you? VLADIMIR: Boots must be taken off every day, I'm tired telling you that. Why don't you listen to me? ESTRAGON: (feebly). Help me VLADIMIR: It hurts? ESTRAGON: (angrily). Hurts He wants to know if it hurts VLADIMIR: (angrily). No one ever suffers but you. I don't count. I'd like to hear what you'd say if you had what I have. ESTRAGON: It hurts? VLADIMIR: (angrily). Hurts He wants to know if it hurts ESTRAGON: (pointing). You might button it all the same. VLADIMIR: (stooping). True. (He buttons his fly.) Never neglect the little things of life. ESTRAGON: What do you expect, you always wait till the last moment. VLADIMIR: (musingly). The last moment... (He meditates.) Hope deferred maketh the something sick, who said that?
9. Localizzazione iphone Bigger than bigger iphone 6 isn t simply bigger it s better in every way. Larger, yet dramatically thinner. More powerful, but remarkably power efficient. With a smooth metal surface that seamlessly meets the new Retina HD display. It s one continuous form where hardware and software function in perfect unison, creating a new generation of iphone that s better by any measure. iphone at its largest. And thinnest. Developing an iphone with a larger, more advanced display meant pushing the edge of design. From the seamless transition of glass and metal to the streamlined profile, every detail was carefully considered to enhance your experience. So while its display is larger, iphone 6 feels just right. Not just a bigger display. A better display. It s one thing to make a bigger display. It s something else entirely to make a bigger Multi Touch display with brilliant colors and higher contrast at even wider viewing angles. But that s exactly what we did with the new Retina HD display. The ultimate display meets the ultimate all-in-one 14.7 million pixels. And the power to do beautiful things with them. imac has always been about having a huge, immersive place to see and create amazing things. So making the best possible imac meant making the best possible display. The new 27 inch imac with Retina 5K display has four times as many pixels as the standard 27 inch imac display. So you experience unbelievable detail. On an unbelievable scale. 10. Mock Exam 16 dicembre 2014 N.B. Gli studenti che sostengono l esame da frequentante, ma non hanno potuto prendere parte al Mock Exam, sceglieranno uno solo fra i testi di cui sotto e lo tradurranno integralmente; chi intende sostenere l esame da non frequentante consegnerà tradotti tutti i 3 testi che seguono) Testo 1. The Book of Antopol (or, Can We Ever Know the Past?) Posted by Molly Antopol In December, 2000, I was living in Israel after graduating from college and wound up at a friend of a friend s holiday party, in Haifa. I knew no one but the girl who had brought me, and, after a few minutes skulking alone by the dessert table, I ducked into the kitchen and asked an elderly woman at the sink if I could help, just to have something to do. She handed me a dish towel. She was short and wiry, with dyed red hair and skin so pale you could see the whole veiny design of her interior. It took less than a minute of chatting in Hebrew for her to tell that I wasn t Israeli, and she asked where I was from. I told her America. No, she said, eying me more closely. Where are you from? I said that my family was originally from a tiny village called Antopol, a few hours from Minsk, in Belarus. But no one s heard of it, I said. You can t even find it on a map.
She set down the bowl she was washing and stared at me, as if really noticing me for the first time. Then she said, I m from Antopol. I come from a big family of storytellers, and, growing up, I liked hearing about the years before I was born. The battered VW van my parents lived in as they drove cross-country, named Blue, after the Joni Mitchell album; the stories of the generation before them; the two F.B.I. men my grandfather, an active Communist, claimed he could hear coming up the lawn every night during dinner, even before they knocked always the same two agents in stiff brown suits, asking if he had a minute to talk. And, before that, tales about my great-grandmother Molly from Antopol. [ ] http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/books/2014/01/the-book-of-antopol-or-can-weever-know-the-past.html#entry-more Testo 2. Albus Dumbledore on The Tale of the Three Brothers J.K. Rowling, The Tales of Beedle the Bard This story made a profound impression on me as a boy. I heard it first from my mother, and it soon became the tale I requested more often than any other at bedtime. This frequently led to arguments with my younger brother, Aberforth, whose favourite story was Grumble the Grubby Goat. The moral of The Tale of the Three Brothers could not be any clearer: human efforts to evade or overcome death are always doomed to disappointment. The third brother in the story ( the humblest and also the wisest ) is the only one who understands that, having narrowly escaped Death once, the best he can hope for is to postpone their next meeting for as long as possible. This youngest brother knows that taunting Death by engaging in violence, like the first brother, or by meddling in the shadowy art of necromancy,19 like the second brother - means pitting oneself against a wily enemy who cannot lose. The irony is that a curious legend has grown up around this story, which precisely contradicts the message of the original. This legend holds that the gifts Death gives the brothers an unbeatable wand, a stone that can bring back the dead, and an Invisibility Cloak that endures for ever are genuine objects that exist in the real world. The legend goes further: if any person becomes the rightful owner of all three, then he or she will become master of Death, which has usually been understood to mean that they will be invulnerable, even immortal. Testo 3. http://www.gocomics.com/