Characterization CDA Practice #2

Characterization CDA Practice #2

Multiple Choice

Being young, I was rather inclined to become blindly devoted to a single cause. At least, so I must have appeared to Sensei. I considered conversation with Sensei more profitable than lectures at the university. I valued Sensei’s opinions more than I did those of my professors. Sensei, who went his solitary way without saying very much, seemed to me to be a greater man than those famous professors who lectured to me from their platforms. You must try to be more sober¹ in your opinions about me,” Sensei once said to me.“But I am being sober,” I cried, confidently. Sensei, however, refused to take me seriously.④ “You are like a man in a fever. When that fever passes, your enthusiasm will turn to disgust. Your present opinion of me makes me unhappy enough. But when I think of thedisillusionment² that is to come, I feel even greater sorrow.” “Do you think me so fickle³? Do you find me so untrustworthy?” “I am simply sorry for you.” “I deserve your sympathy but not your trust. Is that what you mean, Sensei?”He seemed vexed⁴ as he turned his face towards the garden. Not long before, the gardenhad been full of camellias. But now, the flowers, which had brightened the scenery with theirrich, red color, were all gone. It had been Sensei’s custom to look out from his room and gazeat them.“It is not you in particular that I distrust, but the whole of humanity.” I could hear the cry of a goldfish vendor from the lane on the other side of the hedge. There was no other sound. The house was some distance from the main road, and we seemed tobe surrounded by a complete calm. All was quiet, as usual, inside the house itself. I knew that Sensei’s wife was in the next room, busy at her sewing or some such work. And I knew also that she could hear what we were saying. But I momentarily forgot this, as I said: “Then you have no trust in your wife either? ”Sensei looked a little uneasy. He avoided giving a direct answer to my question. “I don’t even trust myself. And not trusting myself, I can hardly trust others. There is nothing that I can do, except curse my own soul.” “Surely, Sensei, you think too seriously about these things.” “It is not a matter of what I think. It is what I have done that has led me to feel the way I do. At first, my own act shocked me. Then, I was terribly afraid.” I wanted to pursue the conversation, but we were interrupted by the voice of Sensei’s wife ,calling him from behind the door. “What is it?” Sensei said. “Can you come here a minute?” his wife said. I had hardly begun to wonder why Sensei had been called to the next room when he returned.“ At any rate,” he continued, “don’t put too much trust in me. You will learn to regret it if you do. And if you ever allow yourself to feel betrayed, you will then find yourself being cruelly vindictive.”⁵ “What do you mean?”⑲“The memory that you once sat at my feet will begin to haunt you and, in bitterness and shame, you will want to degrade⁶ me. I do not want your admiration now, because I do not want your insults in the future. I bear with my loneliness now, in order to avoid greater loneliness in the years ahead. You see, loneliness is the price we have to pay for being bornin this modern age, so full of freedom, independence , and our own egotistical selves.” I could not think of anything to say.

How does the character of Sensei contribute to the development of the theme?

• He places little value in the boy’s admiration.

• He is willing to listen to his wife’s advice.

• He is blind and more experienced in life.

• He prefers to live a solitary life.

Multiple Choice

Being young, I was rather inclined to become blindly devoted to a single cause. At least, so I must have appeared to Sensei. I considered conversation with Sensei more profitable than lectures at the university. I valued Sensei’s opinions more than I did those of my professors. Sensei, who went his solitary way without saying very much, seemed to me to be a greater man than those famous professors who lectured to me from their platforms. You must try to be more sober¹ in your opinions about me,” Sensei once said to me.“But I am being sober,” I cried, confidently. Sensei, however, refused to take me seriously.

④ “You are like a man in a fever. When that fever passes, your enthusiasm will turn to disgust. Your present opinion of me makes me unhappy enough. But when I think of thedisillusionment² that is to come, I feel even greater sorrow.” “Do you think me so fickle³? Do you find me so untrustworthy?” “I am simply sorry for you.” “I deserve your sympathy but not your trust. Is that what you mean, Sensei?”He seemed vexed⁴ as he turned his face towards the garden. Not long before, the gardenhad been full of camellias. But now, the flowers, which had brightened the scenery with theirrich, red color, were all gone. It had been Sensei’s custom to look out from his room and gazeat them.“It is not you in particular that I distrust, but the whole of humanity.” I could hear the cry of a goldfish vendor from the lane on the other side of the hedge. There was no other sound. The house was some distance from the main road, and we seemed tobe surrounded by a complete calm. All was quiet, as usual, inside the house itself. I knew that Sensei’s wife was in the next room, busy at her sewing or some such work. And I knew also that she could hear what we were saying. But I momentarily forgot this, as I said: “Then you have no trust in your wife either? ”Sensei looked a little uneasy. He avoided giving a direct answer to my question. “I don’t even trust myself. And not trusting myself, I can hardly trust others. There is nothing that I can do, except curse my own soul.” “Surely, Sensei, you think too seriously about these things.” “It is not a matter of what I think. It is what I have done that has led me to feel the way I do. At first, my own act shocked me. Then, I was terribly afraid.” I wanted to pursue the conversation, but we were interrupted by the voice of Sensei’s wife ,calling him from behind the door. “What is it?” Sensei said. “Can you come here a minute?” his wife said. I had hardly begun to wonder why Sensei had been called to the next room when he returned.“ At any rate,” he continued, “don’t put too much trust in me. You will learn to regret it if you do. And if you ever allow yourself to feel betrayed, you will then find yourself being cruelly vindictive.”⁵ “What do you mean?”⑲“The memory that you once sat at my feet will begin to haunt you and, in bitterness and shame, you will want to degrade⁶ me. I do not want your admiration now, because I do not want your insults in the future. I bear with my loneliness now, in order to avoid greater loneliness in the years ahead. You see, loneliness is the price we have to pay for being bornin this modern age, so full of freedom, independence , and our own egotistical selves.” I could not think of anything to say.

How does paragraph 4 contribute to the theme of the text?

• It shows how little faith that Sensei has in his student.

• It shows that Sensei is struggling to make sense of his life.

• It shows Sensei’s belief that his student’s affection will turn to disdain.

• It shows that the student’s opinion of Sensei is lacking in intelligence and judgment.

Multiple Choice

Being young, I was rather inclined to become blindly devoted to a single cause. At least, so I must have appeared to Sensei. I considered conversation with Sensei more profitable than lectures at the university. I valued Sensei’s opinions more than I did those of my professors. Sensei, who went his solitary way without saying very much, seemed to me to be a greater man than those famous professors who lectured to me from their platforms. You must try to be more sober¹ in your opinions about me,” Sensei once said to me.“But I am being sober,” I cried, confidently. Sensei, however, refused to take me seriously.

④ “You are like a man in a fever. When that fever passes, your enthusiasm will turn to disgust. Your present opinion of me makes me unhappy enough. But when I think of thedisillusionment² that is to come, I feel even greater sorrow.” “Do you think me so fickle³? Do you find me so untrustworthy?” “I am simply sorry for you.” “I deserve your sympathy but not your trust. Is that what you mean, Sensei?”He seemed vexed⁴ as he turned his face towards the garden. Not long before, the gardenhad been full of camellias. But now, the flowers, which had brightened the scenery with theirrich, red color, were all gone. It had been Sensei’s custom to look out from his room and gazeat them.“It is not you in particular that I distrust, but the whole of humanity.” I could hear the cry of a goldfish vendor from the lane on the other side of the hedge. There was no other sound. The house was some distance from the main road, and we seemed tobe surrounded by a complete calm. All was quiet, as usual, inside the house itself. I knew that Sensei’s wife was in the next room, busy at her sewing or some such work. And I knew also that she could hear what we were saying. But I momentarily forgot this, as I said: “Then you have no trust in your wife either? ”Sensei looked a little uneasy. He avoided giving a direct answer to my question. “I don’t even trust myself. And not trusting myself, I can hardly trust others. There is nothing that I can do, except curse my own soul.” “Surely, Sensei, you think too seriously about these things.” “It is not a matter of what I think. It is what I have done that has led me to feel the way I do. At first, my own act shocked me. Then, I was terribly afraid.” I wanted to pursue the conversation, but we were interrupted by the voice of Sensei’s wife ,calling him from behind the door. “What is it?” Sensei said. “Can you come here a minute?” his wife said. I had hardly begun to wonder why Sensei had been called to the next room when he returned.“ At any rate,” he continued, “don’t put too much trust in me. You will learn to regret it if you do. And if you ever allow yourself to feel betrayed, you will then find yourself being cruelly vindictive.”⁵ “What do you mean?”⑲“The memory that you once sat at my feet will begin to haunt you and, in bitterness and shame, you will want to degrade⁶ me. I do not want your admiration now, because I do not want your insults in the future. I bear with my loneliness now, in order to avoid greater loneliness in the years ahead. You see, loneliness is the price we have to pay for being bornin this modern age, so full of freedom, independence , and our own egotistical selves.” I could not think of anything to say.

 How does the relationship between Sensei and his wife contribute to the development of the theme?

• The relationship illustrates just how distrustful Sensei really is.

• The relationship shows Sensei does trust others in certain situations.

• The relationship weakens Sensei’s point on the issue of trusting people.

• The relationship strengthens Sensei’s point on the issue of trusting people.