2012年英语专业八级考试真题及答案解析

(1)I used to look at my closet and see clothes. These days, whenever I cast my eyes upon the stacks of shoes and hangers of shirts, sweaters and jackets, I see water. (2)It takes 569 gallons to manufacture a T-shirt, from its start in the cotton fields to its appearance on store shelves. A pair of running shoes?1,247 gallons. (3)Until last fall, I'd been oblivious to my“water footprint”, which is defined as the total volume of freshwater that is used to produce goods and services, according to the Water Footprint Network. The Dutch nonprofit has been working to raise awareness of freshwater scarcity since 2008, but it was through the“Green Blue Book"by Thomas M.Kostigen that I was able to see how my own actions factored in. (4)I've installed gray-water systems to reuse the wastewater from my laundry machine and bathtub and reroute it to my landscape—systems that save, on average,50 gallons of water per day. I've set up rain barrels and infiltration pits to collect thousands of gallons of storm water cascading from my roof. I've even entered the last bastion of greendom—installing a composting toilet. (5)Suffice to say, I've been feeling pretty satisfied with myself for all the drinking water I've saved with these big-ticket projects. (6)Now I realize that my daily consumption choices could have an even larger effect—not only on the local water supply but also globally:1.1 billion people have no access to freshwater, and, in the future, those who do have access will have less of it. (7)To see how much virtual water I was using, I logged on to the“Green Blue Book”website and used its water footprint calculator, entering my daily consumption habits. Tallying up the water footprint of my breakfast, lunch, dinner and snacks, as well as my daily dose of over-the-counter uppers and downers—coffee, wine and beer—I'm using 512 gallons of virtual water each day just to feed myself. (8)In a word: alarming. (9)Even more alarming was how much hidden water I was using to get dressed. I'm hardly a clotheshorse, but the few new items I buy once again trumped the amount of water flowing from my faucets each day. If I'm serious about saving water, I realized I could make some simple lifestyle shifts. Looking more closely at the areas in my life that use the most virtual water, it was food and clothes, specifically meat, coffee and, oddly, blue jeans and leather jackets. (10)Being a motorcyclist, I own an unusually large amount of leather—boots and jackets in particular. All of it is enormously water intensive. It takes 7,996 gallons to make a leather jacket, leather being a byproduct of beef.t takes 2,866 gallons of water to make a single pair of blue jeans, because they're made from water- hogging cotton. (11)Crunching the numbers for the amount of clothes I buy every year, it looks a lot like my friend's swimming pool. My entire closet is borderline Olympic. (12)Gulp. (13)My late resolution is to buy some items used. Underwear and socks are, of course, exempt from this strategy, but I have no problem shopping less and also shopping at Goodwill. In fact, I'd been doing that for the past year to save money. My clothes'outrageous water footprint just reinforced it for me. (14)More conscious living and substitution, rather than sacrifice, are the prevailing ideas with the water footprint. It's one I'm trying, and that's had an unusual upside. I had a hamburger recently, and I enjoyed it a lot more since it is now an occasional treat rather than a weekly habit.(One gallon =3.8 litres)

(1)In her novel of"Reunion, American Style", Rona Jaffe suggests that a class reunion“is more than a sentimental journey. It is also a way of answering the question that lies at the back of nearly all our minds. Did they do better than I?” (2)Jaffe's observation may be misplaced but not completely lost. According to a study conducted by social psychologist Jack Sparacino, the overwhelming majority who attend reunions aren't there invidiously to compare their recent accomplishments with those of their former classmates. Instead, they hope, primarily, to relive their earlier successes. (3)Certainly, a few return to show their former classmates how well they have done; others enjoy observing the changes that have occurred in their classmates(not always in themselves, of course).But the majority who attend their class reunions do so to relive the good times they remember having when they were younger. In his study, Sparacino found that, as high school students, attendees had been more popular, more often regarded as attractive, and more involved in extracurricular activities than those classmates who chose not to attend. For those who turned up at their reunions, then, the old times were also the good times! (4)It would appear that Americans have a special fondness for reunions, judging by their prevalence. Major league baseball players, fratermity members, veterans groups, high school and college graduates, and former Boy Scouts all hold reunions on a regular basis. In addition, family reunions frequently attract blood relatives from faraway places who spend considerable money and time to reunite. (5)Actually, in their affection for reuniting with friends, family or colleagues, Americans are probably no different from any other people, except that Americans have created a mind-boggling number and variety of institutionalized forms of gatherings to facilitate the satisfaction of this desire. Indeed, reunions have increasingly become formal events that are organized on a regular basis and, in the process, they have also become big business. (6)Shell Norris of Class Reunion, Inc., says that Chicago alone has 1,500 high school reunions each year. A conservative estimate on the national level would be 10,000 annually. At one time, all high school reunions were organized by volunteers, usually female homemakers. In the last few years, however, as more and more women have entered the labour force, alumni reunions are increasingly being planned by specialized companies rather than by part-time volunteers. (7)The first college reunion was held by the alumni of Yale University in 1792.Graduates of Pennsylvania, Princeton, Stanford, and Brown followed suit. And by the end of the 19th century, most 4-year institutions were holding alumni reunions. (8)The variety of college reunions is impressive. At Princeton, alumni parade through the town wearing their class uniforms and singing their alma mater. At Marietta College, they gather for a dinner-dance on a steamship cruising the Ohio River. (9)Clearly, the thought of cruising on a steamship or marching through the streets is usually not, by itself, sufficient reason for large numbers of alumni to return to campus. Alumni who decide to attend their reunions share a common identity based on the years they spent together as undergraduates. For this reason, universities that somehow establish a common bond—for example, because they are relatively small or especially prestigious—tend to draw substantial numbers of their alumni to reunions. In an effort to enhance this common identity, larger colleges and universities frequently build their class reunions on participation in smaller units, such as departments or schools. Or they encourage“affinity reunions”for groups of former cheerleaders, editors, fraternity members, musicians, members of military organizations on campus, and the like. (10)Of course, not every alumnus is fond of his or her alma mater. Students who graduated during the late 1960s may be especially reluctant to get involved in alumni events. They were part of the generation that conducted sit-ins and teach-ins directed at university administrators, protested military recruitment on campus and marched against “establishment politics.”If this generation has a common identity, it may fall outside of their university ties—or even be hostile to them. Even as they enter their middle years, alumni who continue to hold unpleasant memories of college during this period may not wish to attend class reunions.

(1)One time while on his walk George met Mr. Cattanzara coming home very late from work. He wondered if he was drunk but then could tell he wasn't. Mr. Cattanzara, a stocky, bald-headed man who worked in a change booth on an IRT station, lived on the next block after George's, above a shoe repair store. Nights, during the hot weather, he sat on his stoop in an undershirt, reading the New York Times in the light of the shoemaker's window. He read it from the first page to the last, then went up to sleep. And allthe time he was reading the paper, his wife, a fat woman with a white face, leaned out of the window, gazing into the street, her thick white arms folded under her loose breast, on the window ledge. (2)Once in a while Mr. Cattanzara came home drunk, but it was a quiet drunk. He never made any trouble, only walked stiffly up the street and slowly climbed the stairs into the hall. Though drunk he looked the same as always, except for his tight walk, the quietness, and that his eyes were wet. George liked Mr. Cattanzara because he remembered him giving him nickels to buy lemon ice with when he was a squirt. Mr. Cattanzara was a different type than those in the neighbourhood. He asked different questions than the others when he met you, and he seemed to know what went on in all the newspapers. He read them, as his fat sick wife watched from the window. (3)“What are you doing with yourself this summer, George?”Mr. Cattanzara asked."I see you walkin' around at night.” (4)George felt embarrassed."I like to walk." (5)“What are you doin'in the day now?” (6)“Nothing much just now. I'm waiting for a job."Since it shamed him to admit that he wasn't working, George said,"I'm reading a lot to pick up my education." (7)“What are you readin'?” (8)George hesitated, then said,"I got a list of books in the library once and now I'm gonna read them this summer.”He felt strange and a little unhappy saying this, but he wanted Mr. Cattanzara to respect him. (9)“How many books are there on it?” (10)“I never counted them. Maybe around a hundred.” (11)Mr. Cattanzara whistled through his teeth. (12)“I figure if I did that,”George went on earnestly,“it would help me in my education. I don't mean the kind they give you in high school. I want to know different things than they learn there, if you know what I mean." (13)The change maker nodded.“Still and all, one hundred books is a pretty big load for one summer.” (14)“It might take longer.” (15)“After you're finished with some, maybe you and I can shoot the breeze about them?”said Mr. Cattanzara. (16)“When I'm finished,”George answered. (17)Mr. Cattanzara went home and George continued on his walk. After that, though he had the urge to, George did nothing different from usual. He still took his walks at night, ending up in the little park. But one evening the shoemaker on the next block stopped George to say he was a good boy, and George figured that Mr. Cattanzara had told him all about the books he was reading. From the shoemaker it must have gone down the street, because George saw a couple of people smiling kindly at him, though nobody spoke to him personally. He felt a little better around the neighbourhood and liked it more, though not so much he would want to live in it forever. He had never exactly disliked the people in it, yet he had never liked them very much either. It was the fault of the neighbourhood. To his surprise, George found out that his father and his sister Sophie knew about his reading too. His father was too shy to say anything about it—he was never much of a talker in his whole life—but Sophie was softer to George, and she showed him in other ways she was proud of him.

(1)Abraham Lincoln turns 200 this year, and he's beginning to show his age. When his birthday arrives, on February 12, Congress will hold a special joint session in the Capitol's National Statuary Hall, a wreath will be laid at the great memorial in Washington, and a webcast will link school classrooms for a“teach-in” honouring his memory. (2)Admirable as they are, though, the events will strike many of us Lincoln fans as inadequate, even halfhearted—and another sign that our appreciation for the 16th president and his towering achievements is slipping away. And you don't have to be a Lincoln enthusiast to believe that this is something we can't afford to lose. (3)Compare this year's celebration with the Lincoln centennial, in 1909.That year, Lincoln's likeness made its debut on the penny, thanks to approval from the U.S.Secretary of the Treasury. Communities and civic associations in every corner of the country erupted in parades, concerts, balls, lectures, and military displays. We still feel the effects today: The momentum unloosed in 1909 led to the Lincoln Memorial, opened in 1922, and the Lincoln Highway, the first paved transcontinental thoroughfare. (4)The celebrants in 1909 had a few inspirations we lack today. Lincoln's presidency was still a living memory for countless Americans. In 2009 we are farther in time from the end of the Second World War than they were from the Civil War; families still felt the loss of loved ones from that awful national trauma. (5)But Americans in 1909 had something more: an unembarrassed appreciation for heroes and an acute sense of the way that even long-dead historical figures press in on the present and make us who we are. (6)One story will illustrate what I'm talking about. (7)In 2003 a group of local citizens arranged to place a statue of Lincoln in Richmond, Virginia, former capital of the Confederacy. The idea touched off a firestorm of controversy. The Sons of Confederate Veterans held a public conference of carefully selected scholars to“reassess”the legacy of Lincoln. The verdict—no surprise—was negative: Lincoln was labeled everything from a racist totalitarian to a teller of dirty jokes. (8)I covered the conference as a reporter, but what really unnerved me was a counter-conference of scholars to refute the earlier one. These scholars drew a picture of Lincoln that only our touchy-feely age could conjure up. The man who oversaw the most savage war in our history was described—by his admirers, remember—as"nonjudgmental,""unmoralistic,""comfortable with ambiguity." (9)I felt the way a friend of mine felt as we later watched the unveiling of the Richmond statue in a subdued ceremony:"But he's so small!" (10)The statue in Richmond was indeed small; like nearly every Lincoln statue put up in the past half century, it was life-size and was placed at ground level, a conscious rejection of the heroic—approachable and human, yes, but not something to look up to. (11)The Richmond episode taught me that Americans have lost the language to explain Lincoln's greatness even to ourselves. Earlier generations said they wanted their children to be like Lincoln: principled, kind, compassionate, resolute. Today we want Lincoln to be like us. (12)This helps to explain the long string of recent books in which writers have presented a Lincoln made after their own image. We've had Lincoln as humorist and Lincoln as manic-depressive, Lincoln the businesss sage, the conservative Lincoln and the liberal Lincoln, the emancipator and the racist, the stoic philosopher, the Christian, the atheist—Lincoln over easy and Lincoln scrambled. (13)What's often missing, though, is the timeless Lincoln, the Lincoln whom all generations, our own no less than that of 1909, can lay claim to. Lucky for us, those memorializers from a century ago—and, through them, Lincoln himself—have left us a hint of where to find him. The Lincoln Memorial is the most visited of our presidential monuments. Here is where we find the Lincoln who endures: in the words he left us, defining the country we've inherited. Here is the Lincoln who can be endlessly renewed and who,200 years after his birth, retains the power to renew us.