内容正文:
2023高考英语名校模拟真题速递(新高考专用)
第一期
专题06 阅读理解之记叙文10篇
(2023春·江苏泰州·高三统考一模)The J in “juice” was the first letter-sound, according to my mother, which I repeated in staccato(不连贯地). This was when I was three, before my stutter(口吃)was considered as shameful. In those earliest years my relationship to language was uncomplicated: I assumed my voice was more like a bird’s or a squirrel’s than my playmates’. I imagined, unlike fluent children, I might be able to converse with wild creatures, learn their secrets, tell them mine and establish friendships with them.
School put an end to this fantasy. Throughout elementary school I stuttered every time a teacher called on me and whenever I was asked to read out loud. Flash forward 25 years. After a lot of speech therapy, my stutter was less noticeable. One night I found myself at a party in Brooklyn surrounded by people freely and proudly stuttering. I realized as I listened to one after another tell their stories that they were not impressed with my fluency. No. They felt sorry for me.
This experience blew my mind. It had never occurred to me to tell myself the way I spoke was OK; it’s the fluent world that needed to practice acceptance. When I watched “The King’s Speech,” a film about King George VI’s stutter, I didn’t buy the happy ending, when, with the help of his speech therapist Lionel Logue, the king delivers with fluency his announcement that Britain will enter World War II. The actual meaning and glory in the film, I realized, occurs between the king and Logue inside their sessions. The king exposes his vulnerability(脆弱)and Logue reacts not with judgment or disgust but sympathy. For the first time the king is seen.
The central irony of my life remains that my stutter, which at times caused so much suffering, is also responsible for my obsession with language. Without it I would not have been driven to write, to create rhythmic sentences easier to speak and to read. As a little girl, I hoped my stutter would let me into the sec