9. Skim the text to find the English equivalents of the following:

отвечать на; затрагивать/касаться; получать от жизни; живое существо; смутно осознаваемый порыв; внезапное проявление активности; праздный/бесполезный; определяться наследственностью; быть под рукой; ненасытный интерес; средние способности; выражать словами; предопределяться судьбой; непостижимая судьба; уступать чему-то; разумные идеи; мне все равно; любимая работа; семейные привязанности; ежедневное общение; общаться с друзьями; давние друзья; обращаться к кому-то; неизменная пылкость/готовность; одинаковые вкусы; быть лишенным чего-то; правдоподобно (вероятно); твердая уверенность; явные нелепости; нецелесообразный; унижать, а не возвышать кого-то; заслуживать осуждения; почти не видеть доказательств; в силу чего-либо; осадить кого-то; чистая совесть; отомстить; быть склонным предполагать; стремиться развивать (взращивать).

10. Sum up the text in 12 sentences and add two-three more to comment on it.

3.2. Phonetic Reading

1. Transcribe and mark the stresses in the following words. Practice reading them out loud:

to 'satisfy – ֽsatis'faction - ֽsatis'factory

to re'cuperate - reֽcupe'ration - re'cuperative

to in'satiate –in'satiable - inֽsatia'bility

'consequence – 'consequent - ֽconse'quential

to su'bordinate – a su'bordinate – ֽsubordi'nation

ex'traordinary – ֽextra'ordinarily - exֽtraordi'naire -

'consciousness - ֽconsci'entious - 'conscience

'absurd - ab'surdity

'villain - 'villainous

to re'vere – 'reverence – 'reverent - ֽrever'ential

'mortal - mor'tality – to i'mmortalize - i'mmortal - ֽimmor'tality

to in'cline – 'incline - ֽincli'nation

2. Choose a paragraph. Mark the stresses and tunes in it. Compare with a master tape. Make corrections if necessary. Practice reading the chosen paragraph out loud until you feel content with your reading.

3. Work in pairs. In turns listen to each other reading the chosen paragraphs. Help each other to improve.

4. Exchange the paragraphs and do all the work again. Help each other to improve.

5. Present model reading of one of the paragraphs, you have worked at in a larger group (4-6), taking turns to succeed each other in the form of a competition. Analyze the merits of the winner and improve your own reading accordingly.

6. Practice reading the whole of the text paragraph by paragraph trying to achieve clarity, coherence and expression.

On the Meaning of Life

Like Norman Cousins, H.L. Mencken is responding here to a request for an expression of his personal beliefs on the meaning of life. He opens with a statement that reflects his assignment and indicates his purpose in writing; he then considers the satisfactions that life offers him, and in doing so he touches on the importance of work, on man’s relationship to man and to God, and on man’s fate.

In considering the rhetorical aspects of this essay, note the author’s broad purpose and then observe what effect this has in terms of thesis and structure.

(1) You ask me, in brief, what satisfaction I get out of life, and why I go on working. I go on working for the same reason that a hen goes on laying eggs. There is in every living creature an obscure but powerful impulse to active functioning. Life demands to be lived. Inaction, save as a measure of recuperation between bursts of activity, is painful and dangerous to the healthy organism – in fact, it is almost impossible. Only the dying can be really idle.

(2) The precise form of an individual’s activity is determined, of course, by the equipment with which he came into the world. In other words, it is determined by his heredity. I do not lay eggs, as a hen does, because I was born without any equipment for it. For the same reason I do not get myself elected to Congress, or play the violoncello, or teach metaphysics in a college, or work in a steel mill. What I do is simply what lies easiest to my hand. It happens that I was born with an intense and insatiable interest in ideas, and thus to play with them. It happens also that I was born with rather more than the average facility for putting them into words. In consequence, I am a writer and editor, which is to say, a dealer in them and concocter of them.

(3) There is very little conscious volition in all this. What I do was ordained by the inscrutable fates, not chosen by me. In my boyhood, yielding to a powerful but still subordinate interest in exact facts, I wanted to be a chemist, and at the same time my poor father tried to make me a business man. At other times, like any other relatively poor man, I have longed to make a lot of money by some easy swindle. But I became a writer all the same, and shall remain one until the end of the chapter, just as a cow goes on giving milk all life, even though what appears to be her self-interest urges her to give gin.

(4) I am far luckier than most men, for I have been able since boyhood to make a good living doing precisely what I have wanted to do – what I would have done for nothing, and very gladly, if there had been no reward for it. Not many men, I believe, are so fortunate. Millions of them have to make their livings at tasks which really do not interest them. As for me, I have an extraordinary pleasant life despite the fact that I have had the usual share of woes. For in the midst of those woes I still enjoyed the immense satisfaction which goes with free activity. I have done, in the main, exactly what I wanted to do. Its possible effects upon other people have interested me very little. I have not written and published to please other people, but to satisfy myself, just as a cow gives milk, not to profit the dairyman, but to satisfy herself. I like to think that most of my ideas have been sound ones, but I really don’t care. The world may take them or leave them. I have had my fun watching them.

(5) Next to agreeable work as a means of attaining happiness I put what Huxley called the domestic affections – the day to day intercourse with family and friends. My home has seen bitter sorrow, but it has never seen any serious disputes, and it has never seen poverty. I was completely happy with my mother and sister, and I am completely happy with my wife. Most of the men I commonly associate with are friends of very old standing. I have known some of them for more than thirty years. I seldom see anyone, intimately, whom I have known for less than ten years. These friends delight me. I turn to them when work is done with unfailing eagerness. We have the same general tastes, and see the world much alike. Most of them are interested in music, as I am. It has given me more pleasure in this life than any other external thing. I love it more every year.

(6) As for religion, I am quite devoid of it. Never in my adult life have I experienced anything that could be plausibly called a religious impulse. My father and grandfather were agnostics before me, and though I was sent to Sunday-school as a boy and exposed to the Christian theology I was never taught to believe it. My father thought that I should learn what it was, but it apparently never occurred to him that I would accept it. He was a good psychologist What I got in Sunday-school – beside a wide acquaintance with Christian hymnology – was simply a firm conviction that the Christian faith was full of palpable absurdities, and the Christian God preposterous. Since that time I have read a great deal in theology – perhaps much more than the average clergyman – but I have never discovered any reason to change my mind.

(7) The act of worship, as carried on by Christians, seems to me to be debasing rather than ennobling. It involves grovelling before a Being who, if He really exists, deserves to be denounced instead of respected. I see little evidence in this world of the so-called goodness of God. On the contrary, it seems to me, that, on the strength of His daily acts, He must be set down a most stupid, cruel and villainous fellow. I can say this with a clear conscience, for He has treated me very well – in fact, with vast politeness. But I can’t help thinking of his barbaric torture of most of the rest of humanity. I simply can’t imagine revering the God of war and politics, theology and cancer.

(8) I do not believe in immortality and have no desire for it. The belief in it issues the puerile egos of inferior men. In its Christian form it is little more than a device for getting revenge upon those who are having a better time on this earth. What the meaning of human life may be I don’t know: I incline to suspect that it has none. All I know about it is that, to me at least, it is very amusing while it lasts. Even its troubles, indeed, can be amusing. Moreover, they tend to foster human qualities that I admire most – courage and its analogues. The noblest man, I think, is that one who fights God, and triumphs over Him. I have had little of this to do. When I die I shall be content to vanish into nothingness. No show, however good, could conceivably be good forever.

Section 4

Discussion and Conversation