题型:阅读理解 题类:常考题 难易度:普通
浙江省台州市2020届高三英语11月选考科目教学质量评估试卷
Olympic National Park, with its temperate rainforests and breath-taking views, exerts a natural pull on many Pacific Northwestemers. But Seattle writer Rosette Royale found it repellent. To Royale, the park seemed like a damp, dirty and unpleasant place. "I couldn't figure out why anyone would want to carry a 50-pound pack into the wilderness and camp there for days," he said. "It didn't make sense."
Then he met Bryant Carlin, a vendor (小贩) for Real Change, the Seattle weekly sold on the street by vendors who are homeless or low-wage earners. He was also a skilled outdoorsman and a nature photographer who would take weeks-long photographic journeys to the park. The two men connected in the fall of 2011 when Royale interviewed Carlin for a feature story in Real Change about Carlin's photography.
That first time they met—and for years afterward—Carlin invited Royale to go camping with him. Each time, Royale said "Thanks, but no thanks." Until one day, in the spring of 2015, Royale surprised himself by saying yes. "Little did I know," said Royale, "that saying 'yes' would change the course of my life."
Royale and Carlin went on five separate journeys to the Olympic wilderness. They camped in spring, summer, fall and winter. For Royale, the trips were exhausting and terrifying. But the trips were also inspiring, and helped Royale—a black, strange man—to develop a relationship with the outdoors that he had never experienced before.
For Carlin, the trips were an opportunity to throw off the label of "homeless". In Olympic National Park, sleeping outside just means you're a camper. But there was one aspect of Carlin's life in the city that he couldn't escape: alcohol abuse. While he never brought beer on their camping journeys, the effects of years of drinking weren't so easy to leave behind.
THE WEEK IN READING: THE BEST NEW BOOK RELEASES FOR APRIL, 2017
Void Star by Zachary Mason Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 400 pages Zachary Mason creates a world in which the line between human and computer is completely erased, yet he still manages to make the reader feel for all the characters—both man and machine—equally. Add that to a highly addictive plot and an exploration of memory's impact on our identity, and you've got one of the most richly complex novels of the year. |
An American Sickness: How Healthcare Became Big Business and How You Can Take It Back by Elisabeth Rosenthal Penguin Press, 416 pages It's not uncommon to come across a complete takedown of the American healthcare system as it stands today. But what is uncommon is what Elisabeth Rosenthal has done in this must-read exploration of what we are (and aren't) doing right: She has the answers we've all been searching for in a potential post-Obamacare world. An American Sickness is the frontline defense against a healthcare system that no longer has our well-being at heart. |
A History of Violence: Living and Dying in Central America by Óscar Martínez Verso, 288 pages El Salvador and Honduras have had the highest homicide rates in the world over the past ten years, with Guatemala close behind. Every day more than 1,000 people—men, women, and children—flee these three countries for North America. Step outside yourself for a couple hours and immerse yourself in one of the most incredibly vivid, well-reported journeys through Central America that you will ever experience. |
Sunshine State by Sarah Gerard Harper Perennial, 384 pages Sarah Gerard deftly takes the reader through the most essential issues of our time—homelessness, addiction, incarceration—via a coming-of-age lens in the state of Florida, where, as we all know, anything goes. |
The Day I Died by Lori Rader-Day William Morrow Paperbacks, 432 pages An incredibly complex and smart novel, The Day I Died contains all the features of a small-town murder mystery but takes it one step further with a narrative about a woman's unbreakable search for the answers to not just a crime but about her own identity. |
试题篮