Suite travail notion 2, "the idea of progress". Vocabulaire terminé et première activité préparée, groupes prêts pour présentation orale jeudi, en particulier Clément, Inès, Jean-Raphael, Cannelle.

Rappel consignes activité 1: 

1) Define the idea of “progress”, evoke the main fields it may cover and then focus on the approach chosen in class. Summarize the story in the play, situate the passage. Present the second text (nature, source, date, author, setting [where + when], main characters, and main facts). Say what you are going to do with these two texts.

Pour résumer "The Taming of the Shrew": SHrewSummaryPaint

Textes: 

 I)                                                         “The Taming of the Shrew”

 

Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper,
Thy head, thy sovereign; one that cares for thee,
And for thy maintenance commits his body
To painful labour both by sea and land,
To watch the night in storms, the day in cold,
Whilst thou liest warm at home, secure and safe;
And craves no other tribute at thy hands
But love, fair looks and true obedience;
Too little payment for so great a debt.
Such duty as the subject owes the prince
Even such a woman oweth to her husband (...)
I am ashamed that women are so simple
To offer war where they should kneel for peace;
Or seek for rule, supremacy and sway,
When they are bound to serve, love and obey.

William Shakespeare 1593.

 

 

II)                                                        “The Ballad of the Sad Café”

 

Love reversed the character of Marvin Macy. For two years he loved Miss Amelia but he did not declare himself. He stood near the door of her house, his cap in his hand, his eyes docile and longing and misty grey. He reformed himself completely. He saved his wages. No longer did he lie around on the ground, singing and playing his guitar. He learned good manners: he trained himself to rise and give his chair to a lady and he quit swearing and fighting. So for two years he improved his character in every way. Then one evening he went to Miss Amelia, carrying a bunch of swamp flowers, a sack of chitterlings and a silver ring. That night Marvin Macy declared himself.

And Miss Amelia married him. She walked with great steps in the church wearing her dead mother's bridal gown, which was at least twelve inches too short for her. As the marriage lines were read, Miss Amelia kept making a strange gesture: she would rub the palm of her hand down the side of her wedding gown. She was looking for the pocket of her overall and being unable to find it her face became impatient, bored and exasperated. At last when the marriage was done she hurried out of the church, not taking the arm of her husband but walking at least two paces ahead of him.

The church is no distance from the store so the bride and groom walked home. She began to talk about some business with a farmer. In fact she treated her groom in exactly the same manner she would have used with a customer. But so far all was well; the town was happy, people had seen what love had done to Marvin Macy and hoped that it might also reform his bride. They counted on the marriage to tone down Miss Amelia's temper, to put a bit of “bride fat” on her, and to change her into a calculable woman.

They were wrong. This is what happened: at supper the bride took second servings of everything but the groom picked with his food. Then she went about her ordinary business – reading the newspaper, finishing the inventory of the stock, and so forth. At eleven o' clock the bride took a lamp and went upstairs, the groom followed close behind her. After less than half an hour, she came downstairs, her face was red, she slammed the kitchen door and gave it an ugly kick. Then she controlled herself, she read the Farmer's Almanac, drank coffee and had a smoke with her father's pipe. Her face had returned to her natural color. The she went to her office, wrote a few words in her note-pad and then uncovered her new typewriter that she was just learning how to use.

That was the way she spent the whole of her wedding night.

 

Carson Mc Cullers, The Ballad of the Sad Café, 1953.