新世纪大学英语课文翻译

新世纪大学英语课文翻译

第一册

Unit 1 A Language Teacher’s Personal Opinion

Will Pidcroft

一名语言教师的个人看法

Every day I see advertisements in the newspaper and on the buses claiming that it is easy to learn English. According to these advertisements, with very little effort on the student’s part, he will be able to speak the language fluently in three months or even ten days. There is often a reference to Shakespeare or Charles Dickens to encourage him even more. When I see advertisements like this, I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. If it were as easy to learn English as they say, I would have to look for another job, because very few qualified teachers would be needed. But a large number of people must believe these ridiculous claims, or else the advertisements would not appear.

我每天都会在报纸上、公共汽车上看到各种广告，声称轻轻松松就能学好英语。这些广告号称，学生不必费什么力气，要说一口流利的英语只需短短3个月，甚至10天就行。广告还常常提到威廉·莎士比亚和查尔斯·狄更斯等英语文学大师的名号来增强吸引力。每当看到诸如此类的广告时，我真是哭笑不得：如果学英语真像这些广告所说的那么轻松，我恐怕得另谋出路了，因为不需要那么多合格的英语教师了。但是肯定有许多人相信这些可笑的噱头，不然的话这些广告也不可能出现。

It is natural for students to be attracted to methods that will teach them as quickly and efficiently and cheaply as possible. But it is difficult for anyone to explain in simple language why one method is better than another, and it is no use pretending that anyone has discovered a perfect way of teaching English in every possible situation. Some experts even argue that there are many good methods of teaching a language as there are good teachers, because every teacher is an individual with his own personality. No doubt this is true to a certain extent, but it is not very helpful to students.

学生们喜欢实惠的速成学习方法也在情理之中，但要用浅显易懂的语言去解释为什么某一方法比另一方法更有效并不是一件简单的事，而且也无需装模作样地声称有什么人已经找到了一个万能的适合所有学习环境的教学方法。一些专家甚至认为，有多少个好老师就有多少种好的教学方法，因为每一个老师都有其自身的特点。这种说法无疑是有几分道理的，但对学生来说不是很有帮助。

For a long time people believed that the only way to learn a language was to spend a great deal of time in a country where it was spoken. Of course it is clear that students who go to England to learn English have a great advantage over others, but a larger number of students cannot afford to do so. Some students go to the opposite extreme and think they can teach themselves at home with dictionaries. But it is wrong to assume that each word in English has a precise equivalent in another language and vice versa, and it is impossible for any translation method to provide students with the natural forms of a language in speech, let alone produce good pronunciation and intonation.

有很长一段时间，人们认为要学好一门语言，只有去使用那种语言的国家待上一段时间。当然去英国、美国、或者澳大利亚等国家学英语的学生肯定比那些不能去的学生具有很大优势，但是很多学生支付不起那笔费用。有些学生走向另一极端：他们认为可以借助词典在家自学。如果你认为英语中的每一个词在另一语言中都有完全对等的词（或反之亦然），那就错了。通过翻译法来给学生讲解口语的自然形式是不可能的，更不要说做到语音、语调地道了。

A great deal of teaching is still based on behaviourist psychology. Behaviourists are fond of making students repeat phrases and making them do exercises where they continually have to change one word in a sentence. If we were parrots or chimpanzees, these methods might be successful. A large number of theorists seem to think it is a pity we aren’t, because it would make it easier to use their methods.

现在大量的教学活动还是建立在行为主义心理学的基础之上。行为主义者热衷于让学生复述短语，不断做一些只需更换句中某个词的练习。假如我们是鹦鹉或黑猩猩，那这些方法或许能奏效，可惜我们不是，这似乎让很多理论家引以为憾，否则他们提出的那些方法用起来就会容易得多了。

In my personal opinion, no one can ever learn to speak English or any other language unless he is interested in it. Human beings, unlike parrots and chimpanzees, do not like making noises unless they understand what the noises mean and can relate them to their own lives. It is worth remembering that language is a means of communication. What people want to say and write in another language is probably very similar to what they want to say and write in their own. What they listen to and read cannot be a formula. It must be real.

我个人认为，假如没有兴趣，任何人都不可能学好英语或其他任何语言。与鹦鹉或黑猩猩不同，人类不会无缘无故地发出噪音，除非他们明白这些声音是什么意思，并且能将其与自己的生活联系起来。值得牢记的是：语言是一种交际手段，人们在母语中怎么说怎么写，用另一种语言表达时也大同小异。因此，人们所听所读的不应该是程式化的东西，听的读的材料必须真实自然。

There is another relevant point worth mentioning here. We need other people to talk to and listen to when we communicate. If what we are learning is strange to us, it will be helpful if there are other students around us who can work with us and practise the unfamiliar forms with us in real situations, talking to each other about real life in real language.

还有一个相关的问题值得一提：在交际时我们需要有交谈或倾听的对象。在学习较生疏的内容时，如果有其他学生和我们在实战中一起学习和练习那些陌生的语言形式，用真实的语言去谈论真实的生活，那一定会受益匪浅。

Unit 2 The Doctor's Son

Harold EppleywithRochelle Melander

My parents moved toVermontwhen I was still aninfant. Asoft-spokenman, my fathersettled quietly intohis medical practice in a small town calledEnosburg. Soon thelocalpeople accepted him as one of their own.Word passes quickly in smallVermonttowns.They know good people when they meet them. Around town the neighbors greeted my father as "Doc Eppley." And I soon learned that as long as I lived in Enosburg I would always be known as "Doctor Eppley's son".

On the first day of school, my classmates crowded around me because I was the doctor's son. "If you're anything like your father, you'll be a smart boy," my first-grade teacher said. I couldn't stop Beaming.

Somewherein themidstofmy teenage years, however, something changed. I was sixteen years old and the neighbors still called me "Doctor Eppley's son." They said that I was growing up to be an honorableandindustriousyoung man, living an honest life just like my father. I groaned whenever I heard their compliments.

I wondered how I would everfit in withmy teenage friends.I hated being followed by my father's good name.And so when strangers asked me if I was Doctor Eppley's son, I replied emphatically, "My name is Harold. And I can manage quite wellon my own." As an act of rebellion, I began to call my father by his first name,Sam.

"Why are you acting sostubbornlately?" my father asked me one day in the midst of anargument.

"Well, Sam," I replied, "I suppose that bothers you."

"You know it hurts me when you call me Sam," my father shouted.

"Well, it hurts me when everybody expects me to be just like you. I don't want to be perfect. I want to be myself."

I survivedmy last years of high school until finally I turned eighteen.The next fall Ienrolledin college. I chose toattenda school far from Enosburg, a place where nobody called me "Doctor Eppley's son."

One night at college I sat with a group of students in thedormitoryas we shared stories about our lives. We began to talk about the things we hated most about ourchildhoods. "That's easy," I said. "I couldn't stand growing up in a town where everybody alwayscompared me with my father."

The girl sitting next to mefrowned. "I don't understand," she said. "I'd be proud to have a father who's so well respected." Her eyes filled with tears as she continued,"I'd give anything tobe called my father's child.But I don't know where he is. He left my mother when I was only four."

There was anawkwardsilence, and then I changed the subject. I wasn't ready to hear her words.

I returned home for winter break that year, feeling proud of myself. In four months at college, I had made a number of new friends.I had become popularin my own right, without my father's help.

For two weeks I enjoyed being back in Enosburg. The maintopicof interest at home was my father's new car."Let me take it out for a drive," I said.

My father agreed, but not without his usual warning,"Be careful."

I glaredat him. "Sam, I'm sick ofbeing treated like a child. I'm in college now. Don't you think I know how to drive?"

I could see the hurt in my father's face, and I remembered how much he hated it whenever I called him "Sam."

"All right then," he replied.

Ihoppedinto the car and headed down the road,savoringthe beauty of the Vermont countryside.My mind waswandering.At a busyintersection, I hit the car right in front of mine before I knew it.

The woman in the car jumped out screaming: "Youidiot!Why didn't you look where you were going?"

I surveyedthe damage. Both cars hadsustainedseriousdents.

I sat there like aguiltychild as the woman continuedcomplaining. "It's your fault," she shouted. I couldn'tprotest. My knees began to shake. Ichokedbackmy tears.

"Do you haveinsurance? Can you pay for this? Who are you?" she kept asking. "Who are you?"

I panickedand, without thinking, shouted, "I'm Doctor Eppley's son."

I sat t here stunned. I couldn't believe what I had just said. Almost immediately, the woman's frown became a smile ofrecognition. "I'm sorry," she replied, "I didn't realize who you were."

An hour later, I drove my father'sbatterednew car back home. With my head down and my knees still shaking, Itrudgedinto the house. I explained what had happened.

"Are you hurt?" he asked.

"No," I replied.

"Good," he answered. Then he turned and headed toward the door. "Harold," he said as he was leaving, "Hold your head up."

That night wasNew Year'sEve, and my family attended a small party with friends to celebrate the beginning of another year. When midnight arrived, people cheered and greeted each other. Across the room I saw my father. I stepped toward him. My father and Irarelyhug. But recalling the day's events, I wrappedmy arms around his shoulders. And I spoke his real name for the first time in years. I said, "Thank you, Dad. Happy New Year."

医生的儿子

我还是个婴儿的时候，我的父母亲搬到了佛蒙特州。我那温文尔雅的父亲在一个名叫伊诺斯堡的小镇上毫不张扬地开业行医了。很快，当地人就把他当成了自己人。在佛蒙特州的小镇上，消息传播得很快。人们分得清谁是好人。邻居们都称我的父亲为埃普利医生。我很快意识到，只要我住在伊诺斯堡镇，我就永远只是“埃普利医生的儿子”。

入学的第一天，同学们就簇拥着我，因为我是医生的儿子。“要是你多少有点像你父亲的话，你就会是个聪明的孩子。”我的一年级老师这么说。我忍不住眉开眼笑。

?可是在我十几岁的时候，事情起了变化。?我都十六岁了，邻居们还是称呼我“埃普利医生的儿子”。他们说我长大了一定会是一个可敬又勤劳的年轻人，会像我父亲那样过着体面的生活。每当我听到这些赞美，我都很不以为然地哼哼几声。

我不知道自己怎样才能融入我那些少年朋友的圈子。我讨厌父亲的好名声像影子一样跟着我。所以当陌生人问起我是不是埃普利医生的儿子时，我会带着强调的口气说：“我叫哈罗德。我自己能管好自己的事。”出于反叛，我开始对父亲直呼其名，不叫他“爸爸”，而叫他“萨姆”。

“你最近为什么这么犟？”有次争吵时，我父亲这样问我。 “哼，萨姆。我想你难过了吧！” “你知道的，你叫我萨姆让我很伤心。”我父亲大声地说。

“哦，那人人都指望我像你一样，也很让我伤心呢。我不要完美，我只想做我自己。”

我好不容易挨完高中，总算满了十八岁。第二年秋天我上了大学。我选中了一所远离伊诺斯堡的学校，一个没人管我叫“埃普利医生的儿子”的地方。

在大学里，有天晚上我和一帮学生在宿舍聊起我们的生活。我们开始谈起我们童年最讨厌的事情。“想都不用想，”我说，“我受不了在一个每个人都拿我跟我父亲比的地方生活。” 坐在我身边的女孩皱起眉头说：“这我就不理解了。要是有这么个令人尊敬的父亲我一定会很骄傲的。”她的眼里噙着泪继续说，“要是有人把我叫做我父亲的孩子，那我会不惜一切地珍重这荣誉！但我不知道他在哪里。他抛弃了我的母亲,那时我才四岁。”

大家陷入了尴尬的沉默，然后我转开了话题。她的话我当时还听不进去。

那年寒假我回了家，心中充满了自豪感。在大学的四个月中，我交了好些朋友。我没有靠父亲，而是靠自己的本事赢得了众人的欢心。

回到伊诺斯堡的两个星期里，我一直都很高兴。父亲的新车成了家里人感兴趣的话题。 “让我开出去转转。”我说。

父亲同意了，但跟往常一样提醒我，“小心点。” 我瞪了他一眼，“萨姆，我讨厌你老把我当成个孩子。我都上大学了。你以为我不会开车啊？” 从父亲的脸上看得出我伤了他的心，也想起每次直呼“萨姆”时他是多么不高兴。 “那去吧。”他说。

我跳进车里，?沿路开去，?享受着佛蒙特乡间的美丽风景。我有点心神不定。在一个繁忙的十字路口，不知怎么地就跟我前面的车撞了个正着。 车里的妇人跳出来尖叫，“你这个白痴！你开车难道不看路吗？” 我看了一眼，两辆车都被撞蹩了。

我像个犯了错的孩子一样，坐在那儿听着那妇人不停地抱怨。“全怪你！”她尖叫道。我无法反驳，双腿发抖，泪水在眼眶里转。她不停地问，“你是谁？”

我害怕起来，?想也没想就叫道，?“我是埃普利医生的儿子。”

我坐在那里惊呆了。我简直不相信我自己会这么说。几乎同时，?妇人皱起的眉头变成了似曾相识的笑容。?“对不起。”她答道，“我刚才不知道你是谁。”

一小时后，我开着被撞破了的车回了家。我低着头，迈着发颤的双腿，?拖着步子走进家门。?我解释了所发生的一切。

“受伤了吗？”他问。 “没有。”我回答。 “那就好。”他答道，然后转身向门口走去。“哈罗德，抬起头来。”他边走边说。

那晚是除夕之夜，我们全家与朋友参加了一个小型晚会庆祝新年。午夜来临，每个人都欢呼并互相祝福。我看到父亲在房间的另一头，我向他走去。父亲与我很少拥抱，但我想起了白天的事，我用双臂搂着他的肩膀，很多年来第一次用他“真实的”名字来称呼他。我说，“谢谢你，爸爸。新年快乐！”

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