Lilly loves her town. She loves
the mall. She loves the parks. She also loves her school. Most of all, though,
Lilly loves the seasons. In her old town, it was hot all of the time.
Sometimes it is cold in Lilly’s
new town. The cold season is in winter. Once in a while it snows. Lilly has
never seen snow before. So far her, the snow is exciting as well as very
beautiful. Lilly has to wear gloves to keep her hands warm. She also wear a
scarf around her neck.
In spring, flowers bloom and the
trees turn green with new leaves. Pollen falls on the cars and windowsills and
makes Lilly sneeze. People work in their yards and mow their grass.
In summer, Lilly wears her old
shorts and sandals- the same ones she used to wear in her old town. It is hot
outside, and dogs lie in the shade. Lilly and her friends go to a pool or play
in the water sprinkler. Her father cooks hamburgers on the grill for dinner.
Lilly’s favorite season is autumn.
In autumn, the leaves on the trees turn yellow, gold, red, and orange.
Halloween comes in autumn, and this Lilly’s favorite holiday. Every Halloween,
Lilly wears a costume. Last year she wore a mouse costume. This year she will
wear a fish costume.
One evening in autumn, Lilly and
her mom are on sitting together on the porch. Mom tells Lilly that autumn is
also called “fall”. This is a good idea, Lilly thinks, because in the fall all
of the leaves fall down from the trees.
In paragraph 2 the author writes, “She
also wears a way to rewrite this sentence while keeping its original meaning?
At the time Jane Austen’s novels
were published – between 1811 and 1818 – English literature was not part of any
academic curriculum. In addition, fiction was under strenuous attack. Certain
religious and political groups felt novels had the power to make so-called
immoral characters so interesting that young readers would identify with them;
these groups also considered novels to be of little practical use. Even
Coleridge, certainly no literary reactionary, spoke for many when the asserted
that “novel-reading occasions the destruction of the mind’s powers.”
These attitudes towards novels help
explain why Austen received little attention from early nineteenth-century
literary cities. (In any case a novelist published anonymously, as Austen was,
would not be likely to receive much critical attention.) The literary response
that was accorded to her, however, was often as incisive as twentieth-century
criticism. In his attack in 1816 on novelistic portrayals “outside of ordinary experience,”
for example. Scott made an insightful remark about the merits of Austen’s
fiction.
Her novels, wrote Scott, “present to
the reader an accurate and exact picture of ordinary everyday people and
places, reminiscent of seventeenth-century Flemish painting.” Scott did not use
the word ‘realism’, but he undoubtedly used a standard of realistic probability
in judging novels. The critic Whately did not use the word ‘realism’, either,
but he expressed agreement with Scott’s evaluation, and went on to suggest the possibilities
for moral instruction in what we have called Austen’s ‘realistic method’ her
characters, wrote Whately, are persuasive agents for moral truth since they are
ordinary persons “so clearly evoked that we feel an interest in their fate as
if it were our own.” Moral instruction, explained Whately, is more likely to be
effective when conveyed through recongnizably human and interesting characters
than when imparted by a sermonizing narrator. Whitely especially praised Austen’s
ability to create character who “mingle goodness and villainy, weakness and
virtue, as in life they are always mingled. “Whitely concluded his remarks by
comparing Austen’s art of characterization to Dickens’, starting his preference
for Austen’s.
Yet, the response of
nineteenth-century literary critics to Austen was not always so laudatory, and
often anticipated the reservations of twentieth-century literary critics. An
example of such a response was Lewes complaint in 1859 that Austen’s range of
subject and characters was too narrow. Praising her verisimilitude, Lewes added
that, nonetheless her focus was too often only upon the unlofty and the
commonplace. (Twentieth-century Marxists, on the other hand, were to complain
about what they saw as her exclusive emphasis on a lofty upper middle class.)
In any case having being rescued by literary critics from neglect and indeed
gradually lionized by them, Austen steadily reached, by the mid-nineteenth
century, the enviable pinnacle of being considered controversial.
The author would most likely agree
to which of the following as the best measure of a writer’s literary success?
At the time Jane Austen’s novels
were published – between 1811 and 1818 – English literature was not part of any
academic curriculum. In addition, fiction was under strenuous attack. Certain
religious and political groups felt novels had the power to make so-called
immoral characters so interesting that young readers would identify with them;
these groups also considered novels to be of little practical use. Even
Coleridge, certainly no literary reactionary, spoke for many when the asserted
that “novel-reading occasions the destruction of the mind’s powers.”
These attitudes towards novels help
explain why Austen received little attention from early nineteenth-century
literary cities. (In any case a novelist published anonymously, as Austen was,
would not be likely to receive much critical attention.) The literary response
that was accorded to her, however, was often as incisive as twentieth-century
criticism. In his attack in 1816 on novelistic portrayals “outside of ordinary experience,”
for example. Scott made an insightful remark about the merits of Austen’s
fiction.
Her novels, wrote Scott, “present to
the reader an accurate and exact picture of ordinary everyday people and
places, reminiscent of seventeenth-century Flemish painting.” Scott did not use
the word ‘realism’, but he undoubtedly used a standard of realistic probability
in judging novels. The critic Whately did not use the word ‘realism’, either,
but he expressed agreement with Scott’s evaluation, and went on to suggest the possibilities
for moral instruction in what we have called Austen’s ‘realistic method’ her
characters, wrote Whately, are persuasive agents for moral truth since they are
ordinary persons “so clearly evoked that we feel an interest in their fate as
if it were our own.” Moral instruction, explained Whately, is more likely to be
effective when conveyed through recongnizably human and interesting characters
than when imparted by a sermonizing narrator. Whitely especially praised Austen’s
ability to create character who “mingle goodness and villainy, weakness and
virtue, as in life they are always mingled. “Whitely concluded his remarks by
comparing Austen’s art of characterization to Dickens’, starting his preference
for Austen’s.
Yet, the response of
nineteenth-century literary critics to Austen was not always so laudatory, and
often anticipated the reservations of twentieth-century literary critics. An
example of such a response was Lewes complaint in 1859 that Austen’s range of
subject and characters was too narrow. Praising her verisimilitude, Lewes added
that, nonetheless her focus was too often only upon the unlofty and the
commonplace. (Twentieth-century Marxists, on the other hand, were to complain
about what they saw as her exclusive emphasis on a lofty upper middle class.)
In any case having being rescued by literary critics from neglect and indeed
gradually lionized by them, Austen steadily reached, by the mid-nineteenth
century, the enviable pinnacle of being considered controversial.
How would you describe the synonym
of the word “Verisimilitude”?
