My parents’ house had an attic, the darkest and strangest part of the building, reach- able only by placing a stepladder beneath the trapdoor, and filled with unidentifiable articles too important to be thrown out with the trash but no longer suitable to have at hand. This mysterious space was the memory of the place. After many years all the things deposited in it became, one by one, lost to consciousness. But they were still there, we knew, safely and comfortably stored in the tissues of the house. These days most of us live in smaller, more modern houses or in apartments, and at- tics have vanished. Even the deep closets in which we used to pile things up for temporary forgetting are rarely designed into new homes. Everything now is out in the open, openly acknowledged and displayed, and whenever we grow tired of a memory, an old chair, a trunkful of old letters, they are cast into the dump for burning.
This has seemed a healthier way to live, except maybe for th
A. The Attic of the Brain
B. Openness of the Modern Lifestyle
C. Modern Houses and Old Houses
D. The Attic of My Parents’ House
| My parents’ house had an attic, the
darkest and strangest part of the building, reachable only by placing a
stepladder beneath the trapdoor, and filled with unidentifiable articles too
important to be thrown out with the trash but no longer suitable to have at
hand. This mysterious space was the memory of the place. After many years all
the things deposited in it became, one by one, lost to consciousness. But they
were still there, we knew, safely and comfortably stored in the tissues of the
house. These days most of us live in smaller, more modem houses or in apartments, and attics have vanished. Even the deep closets in which we used to pile things up for temporary forgetting are rarely designed into new homes. Everything now is out in the open, openly acknowledged and displayed, and whenever we grow tired of a memory, an old chair, a trunkful of old l A. The Attic of the Brain. B. Openness of the Modem Lifestyle. C. Modem Houses and Old Houses. D. The Attic of My Parents’ House. [单项选择]My parents’ house had an attic, the darkest and strangest part of the building, reach- able only by placing a stepladder beneath the trapdoor, and filled with unidentifiable articles too important to be thrown out with the trash but no longer suitable to have at hand. This mysterious space was the memory of the place. After many years all the things deposited in it became, one by one, lost to consciousness. But they were still there, we knew, safely and comfortably stored in the tissues of the house. These days most of us live in smaller, more modern houses or in apartments, and at- tics have vanished. Even the deep closets in which we used to pile things up for temporary forgetting are rarely designed into new homes. Everything now is out in the open, openly acknowledged and displayed, and whenever we grow tired of a memory, an old chair, a trunkful of old letters, they are cast into the dump for burning.
This has seemed a healthier way to live, except maybe for the smoke every A. The Attic of the Brain. B. Openness of the Modern Lifestyle. C. Modern Houses and Old Houses. D. The Attic of My Parents’ Hous [单项选择]
My parents’ house had an attic, the darkest and strangest part of the building, reach- able only by placing a stepladder beneath the trapdoor, and filled with unidentifiable articles too important to be thrown out with the trash but no longer suitable to have at hand. This mysterious space was the memory of the place. After many years all the things deposited in it became, one by one, lost to consciousness. But they were still there, we knew, safely and comfortably stored in the tissues of the house. These days most of us live in smaller, more modern houses or in apartments, and at- tics have vanished. Even the deep closets in which we used to pile things up for temporary forgetting are rarely designed into new homes. Everything now is out in the open, openly acknowledged and displayed, and whenever we grow tired of a memory, an old chair, a trunkful of old letters, they are cast into the dump for burning. 我来回答: 提交
|
