Функциональная стилистика. Максакова С.П - 19 стр.

UptoLike

ВУЗ: 

СГАУ | Самара

Составители: 

Рубрика: 

bumps at you before the rest of the orchestra arrives, it is still cheap. "Who is Margaret talking
to?" said Mrs. Munt, at the conclusion of the first movement. She was again in London on a visit
to Wickham Place. Helen looked down at the long line of their party, and said that she did not
know. "Would it be some young man or other whom she takes an interest in?" "I expect so",
Helen replied. Music enwrapped her, and she could not enter into the distinction that divides
young men whom one takes an interest in from young men whom one knows. "You girls are so
wonderful in always having - Oh dear! One mustn't talk." For the Andante had begun - very
beautiful, but bearing a family likeness to all the other beautiful Andantes that Beethoven had
written, and, to Helen's mind, rather disconnecting the heroes and shipwrecks of the first
movement from the heroes and goblins of the third. She heard the tune through once, and then
her attention wandered, and she gazed at the audience, or the organ, or the architecture. Much
did she censure the attenuated Cupids who encircle the ceiling of the Queen's Hall, inclining
each to each with vapid gestures, and clad in sallow pantaloons, on which the October sunlight
struck. "How awful to marry a man like those Cupids!" thought Helen. Here Beethoven started
decorating his tune, so she heard him through once more, and then smiled at her cousin Frieda.
But Frieda, listening to Classical Music, could not respond. Herr Leisecke, too, looked as if wild
horses could not make him inattentive; there were lines across his forehead, his lips were parted,
his pince-nez at right angles to his nose, and he had laid a thick white hand on either knee. And
next to her was aunt Juley, so British, and wanting to tap. How interesting that row of people
was! What diverse influences had gone to the making! Here Beethoven after humming and
hawing with great sweetness, said "Heigh-ho", and the Andante came to an end. Applause, and a
round of "wunderschoning" and "prachtvolleying" from the German contingent. Margaret started
talking to her new young man; Helen said to her aunt: "Now comes the wonderful movement:
first of all the goblins, and then a trio of elephants dancing"; and Tibby implored the company
generally to look out for the transitional passage on the drum. "On the what, dear?" "On the
drum, Aunt Juley." "No, look out for the part where you think you have done with the goblins
and they come back," breathed Helen, as the music started with a goblin walking quietly over the
universe, from end to end. Others followed him. They were not aggressive creatures; it was that
that made them terrible to Helen. They merely observed in passing that there was no such thing
as splendour or heroism in the world. After the interlude of elephants dancing, they returned and
made the observation for the second time. Helen could not contradict them, for, once at all
events, she had felt the same, and had seen the reliable walls of youth collapse. Panic and
emptiness! Panic and emptiness! The goblins were right. Her brother raised his finger: it was the
transitional passage on the drum. For, as the things were going too far, Beethoven took hold of
the goblins and made them do what he wanted. He appeared in person. He gave them a little
push, and they began to walk in a major key instead of in a minor, and then - he blew with his
mouth and they were scattered! Gusts of splendour, gods and demi-gods contending with vast
swords, colour and fragrance broadcast on the field of battle, magnificent victory, magnificent
death! Oh, it all burst before the girl, and she even stretched out her gloved hands as if it was
tangible. Any fate was titanic; any contest desirable; conqueror and conquered would alike be
applauded by the angels of the utmost stars.
And the goblins - they had not really been there at all? They were only the phantoms of
cowardice and unbelief? One healthy human impulse would dispel them? Men like the Wilcoxes,
or President Roosevelt, would say yes. Beethoven knew better. The goblins really had been
there. They might return - and they did. It was as if the splendour of life might boil over and
waste the steam and froth. In its dissolution one heard the terrible ominous note, and a goblin
with increased malignity walked quietly over the universe from end to end. Panic and emptiness!
Panic and emptiness! Even the flaming ramparts of the world might fall.
Beethoven chose to make all right in the end. He built the ramparts up. He blew with his mouth
for the second time, and again the goblins were scattered. He brought back the gusts of

Страницы