- Респонденты не ассоциируют аллитерацию в поэме «Ворон» с приятными, добрыми, светлыми вещами, а связывают только с негативными эмоциями и ассоциациями.
И, в заключении, мы можем сказать, что все поставленные перед нами цели и задачи по данной курсовой работе мы успешно выполнили, проделали огромную работу, результаты которой могут быть внедрены в дальнейшее исследования темы.
Литература:
1. Аллен, У. Э.А. По. / Аллен У. – М.: 1987.
2. Аллитерация. Режим доступа: http://www.pycckoeslovo.ru
3. Арнольд, И.В. Стилистика. Современный английский язык: Учебник для вузов / И.В Арнольд; науч. ред. П.Е. Бухаркин. – 4-е изд., исп. и доп. – М.: Флинта: Наука, 2002. – 384 с.
4. Биография Э.А. По. Режим доступа: http://wikipedia.org
5. Боброва, М. Романтизм в американской литературе Х1Х века / М. Боброва. – М.: 1972.
6. Ванслов, В. Эстетика романтизма /В. Ванслов. – М.: 1966.
7. Выготский, Л.С. Психология искусства. – Мн.: современное слово. – Минск, 1998. – 480с. – С. 7-93.
8. Жизнь и творчество Э.А. По. Режим доступа: http://www.5ballov.ru
9. Ковалев, Ю. Э.А. По. Новеллист и поэт /Ю. Ковалев. - Л.: 1984.
10. Паустовский, К.Г. Близкие и далекие. – М.: 1967.
11. Паустовский, К.Г. Собрание сочинений в девяти томах. Том шестой. Рассказы. – Москва, 1983. – С. 423-435.
12. По, Э. А. Poems Стихотворения. – М.: 1992.
13. По, Э. Поэтический принцип. //Эстетика американского романтизма. – М.: 1977.
14. По, Э. Философия творчества. //Эстетика американского романтизма. – М .: 1977.
15. Стилистические средства. Режим доступа: http://www.bakanov.org
16. Уникальность поэзии Э.А.По. Режим доступа: http://www.gm2.jumpa.ru
17. Никитина С.Е., Васильева Н.В. Экспериментальный системный толковый словарь стилистических терминов/ Никитина С.Е., Васильева Н.В. – РАН, Институт языкознания 1996.
18. Ярцева, В.Н. Большой энциклопедический словарь по языкознанию / В.Н. Ярцева, Н.Д Арутюнова. -2-е изд., лингвистического энциклопедического словаря. – Москва 2000.
Приложение 1.
The Raven
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered,
weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten
lore –
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there
came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my
chamber door –
“Tis some visiter,” I muttered, “tapping at my
chamber door –
Only this and nothing more”.
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost
upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had
sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow – sorrow
for the lost Lenore –
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels
name Lenore –
Nameless here for evermore.
And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each
purple curtain
Thrilled me – filled me with fantastic terrors
never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart,
I stood repeating
“Tis some visiter entreating entrance at my
chamber door –
Some late visiter entreating entrance at my
chamber door; -
This it is and nothing more”.
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating
then no longer,
“Sir,” said I, “or Madam, truly your forgiveness
I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently
you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my
chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I head you” – here
I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there and nothing more.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood
there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared
to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness
gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered
word, “Lenore!”
Merely this and nothing more.
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul
within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder
then before.
“Surely,” said I, “surely that is something at
my window lattice;
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this
mistery explore –
Let my heart be still a moment and this mistery
explore; -
‘Tis the wind and nothing more!”
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many
a flirt and flutter,
In the stepped a stately Raven of the saintly
days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute
stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above
my chamber door –
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above
my chamber door –
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance
It wore,
“Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,”
I said, “art sure no craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from
the Nightly shore –
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s
Plutonian shore!”
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore”.
Much I marveled this ungainly fowl to hear
discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning – little relevancy bore;
For me cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his
chamber door –
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above
his chamber door,
With such name as “Nevermore.”
But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust,
spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word
he did outpour.
Nothing farther then he uttered – not a feather
then he fluttered –
Till I scarcely more than muttered “Other friends
have flown before –
On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have
flown before.”
Then the bird said “Nevermore”.
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
“Doubtless,” said I, “what it utters is its only
stock and store
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful
Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs
One burden bore –
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
Of “Never – nevermore”.
But the Raven still beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front
of bird, and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird
of yore –
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt,
and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking “Nevermore”.
Thus I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into
my bosom’s core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head
at ease reclining
On the cushion’s velvet lining that the lamp-light
gloated o’er,
But whose velvet-violet lining with the lamp-light
gloating o’er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!
Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed
from an unseen censer
Swung by seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled
on the tufted floor.
“Wretch,” I cried, “thy God hath lent thee –
by these angels he hath sent thee
Respite – respite and nepenthe from thy memories
of Lenore;
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget
this lost Lenore!”
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore”.
“Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil! – prophet still,
if bird or devil!-
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed
thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land
enchanted –
On this home by Horror haunted – tell me truly,
I implore –
Is there – is there balm in Gilead? – tell me –
tell me, I implore!”
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore”.
“Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil! – prophet still,
if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us – by that God
we both adore –
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within
the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels
name Lenore –
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels
name Lenore”.
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore”.
“Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!”
I shrieked, upstarting –
“Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s
Plutonian shore!
Leave no back plume as a token of that lie thy
soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! – quit the bust
above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take
Thy form from off my door!”
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore”.
And the Raven, never flitting , still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s
that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his
shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies
floating on the floor
Shall be lifted – nevermore!
Приложение 2
Напишите эмоции, которые у вас вызывают повторение выделенных букв, и ассоциации, которые с ними возникают.
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my
chamber door –
“Tis some visiter,” I muttered, “tapping at my
chamber door –
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had
sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow – sorrow
for the lost Lenore –
Thrilled me – filled me with fantastic terrors
never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart,
I stood repeating
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating
then no longer,
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood
there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared
to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness
gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered
word, “Lenore!”