Questões de Inglês

PERFECT LIE
By Anna Blundy

[1]   It was as though he was sitting in the consulting room with us, a golden figure of male beauty, intelligent sensitivity, sparkling wit and an endless
capacity for good. This was established by my patient as a stark contrast to all her multitudinous failings. “I don’t deserve him,” she said, twisting a tissue
in her bitten fingers, legs tucked meekly under her chair. She began (again) to detail her repulsiveness and stupidity.
[2]   She met this Adonis at university where he excelled at everything. Strangely enough, he liked her and they began a relationship that made her feel
inadequate. “He’s just so good socially. Really funny and chatty,” she explained. “I know people look at us and wonder why he’s with me,” she added.
[3]   I was supposed to nod and understand that it must be very painful to be so ugly and crap while he is so perfect. Did I mention that he is multilingual
and that his strong eco-credentials will, sooner rather than later, save the world? Sitting there looking at this crushed girl, I really started to hate this guy.
“He says he can’t put up with my depression much longer. He says it’s embarrassing.” Our Adonis was constantly going to Norway for long stretches. “There
was a girl who liked him, but nothing happened,” she said, eyes pleading.
[4]   Two years into our once-a-week sessions, my patient looks very different. She meets my gaze, smiles, is dressed less like a five-year-old and more like
a 30-year-old, and is struggling with her now husband. “He’s such a show off. He dominates conversations so nobody else can say anything,” she tells me,
describing an excruciating evening at an Indian restaurant. She is exasperated by his bullying at home, always shouting about her incompetent recycling,
her use of the central heating and her not switching lights off (when she is actually in the room). While her job in publishing is going well, he is currently
out of work, the eco-start up thing that he was involved with didn’t start up.
[5]   I won’t go into detail about her psychotherapy journey, but she is a favourite in my supervision group because she is funny and insightful, desperate
to get out of depression, initially to please her Adonis, but ultimately for herself. She’d chosen someone she felt was her superior in order to prove her lack
of self-worth and was re-enacting a miserable childhood in which she was always ignored in favour of (and also by) a golden brother.
[6]   But now what? I’ve often heard anti-therapy types complain that therapists turn couples against each other, that if one party is in therapy the marriage
is doomed. I suspect this is often true—an unhappy person is often unhappy specifically in their relationship. But this relationship was based purely on
fantasy. My patient had ludicrously idealised an ordinary guy and he liked it (as it fed his narcissism). She was unable to know the real person, seeing only
the glittering fantasy that revealed her own worthlessness. Once she’d recovered her reality-testing, withdrawn her colossal projections of perfection into
him, and was more able to see the world as it is, the rose-coloured veil slipped away and she is left with a man as flawed as any other: as flawed as herself.
[7]   Since she didn’t choose him clear-sightedly, she didn’t choose him at all. She chose a fantasy. Though reality has allowed her to accept herself, she’s
now going to have to accept or reject him, without the auriferous sheen [brilho].
Adapted from Prospect, June 2017. 

PERFECT LIE
By Anna Blundy

[1]   It was as though he was sitting in the consulting room with us, a golden figure of male beauty, intelligent sensitivity, sparkling wit and an endless
capacity for good. This was established by my patient as a stark contrast to all her multitudinous failings. “I don’t deserve him,” she said, twisting a tissue
in her bitten fingers, legs tucked meekly under her chair. She began (again) to detail her repulsiveness and stupidity.
[2]   She met this Adonis at university where he excelled at everything. Strangely enough, he liked her and they began a relationship that made her feel
inadequate. “He’s just so good socially. Really funny and chatty,” she explained. “I know people look at us and wonder why he’s with me,” she added.
[3]   I was supposed to nod and understand that it must be very painful to be so ugly and crap while he is so perfect. Did I mention that he is multilingual
and that his strong eco-credentials will, sooner rather than later, save the world? Sitting there looking at this crushed girl, I really started to hate this guy.
“He says he can’t put up with my depression much longer. He says it’s embarrassing.” Our Adonis was constantly going to Norway for long stretches. “There
was a girl who liked him, but nothing happened,” she said, eyes pleading.
[4]   Two years into our once-a-week sessions, my patient looks very different. She meets my gaze, smiles, is dressed less like a five-year-old and more like
a 30-year-old, and is struggling with her now husband. “He’s such a show off. He dominates conversations so nobody else can say anything,” she tells me,
describing an excruciating evening at an Indian restaurant. She is exasperated by his bullying at home, always shouting about her incompetent recycling,
her use of the central heating and her not switching lights off (when she is actually in the room). While her job in publishing is going well, he is currently
out of work, the eco-start up thing that he was involved with didn’t start up.
[5]   I won’t go into detail about her psychotherapy journey, but she is a favourite in my supervision group because she is funny and insightful, desperate
to get out of depression, initially to please her Adonis, but ultimately for herself. She’d chosen someone she felt was her superior in order to prove her lack
of self-worth and was re-enacting a miserable childhood in which she was always ignored in favour of (and also by) a golden brother.
[6]   But now what? I’ve often heard anti-therapy types complain that therapists turn couples against each other, that if one party is in therapy the marriage
is doomed. I suspect this is often true—an unhappy person is often unhappy specifically in their relationship. But this relationship was based purely on
fantasy. My patient had ludicrously idealised an ordinary guy and he liked it (as it fed his narcissism). She was unable to know the real person, seeing only
the glittering fantasy that revealed her own worthlessness. Once she’d recovered her reality-testing, withdrawn her colossal projections of perfection into
him, and was more able to see the world as it is, the rose-coloured veil slipped away and she is left with a man as flawed as any other: as flawed as herself.
[7]   Since she didn’t choose him clear-sightedly, she didn’t choose him at all. She chose a fantasy. Though reality has allowed her to accept herself, she’s
now going to have to accept or reject him, without the auriferous sheen [brilho].
Adapted from Prospect, June 2017. 

PERFECT LIE
By Anna Blundy

[1]   It was as though he was sitting in the consulting room with us, a golden figure of male beauty, intelligent sensitivity, sparkling wit and an endless
capacity for good. This was established by my patient as a stark contrast to all her multitudinous failings. “I don’t deserve him,” she said, twisting a tissue
in her bitten fingers, legs tucked meekly under her chair. She began (again) to detail her repulsiveness and stupidity.
[2]   She met this Adonis at university where he excelled at everything. Strangely enough, he liked her and they began a relationship that made her feel
inadequate. “He’s just so good socially. Really funny and chatty,” she explained. “I know people look at us and wonder why he’s with me,” she added.
[3]   I was supposed to nod and understand that it must be very painful to be so ugly and crap while he is so perfect. Did I mention that he is multilingual
and that his strong eco-credentials will, sooner rather than later, save the world? Sitting there looking at this crushed girl, I really started to hate this guy.
“He says he can’t put up with my depression much longer. He says it’s embarrassing.” Our Adonis was constantly going to Norway for long stretches. “There
was a girl who liked him, but nothing happened,” she said, eyes pleading.
[4]   Two years into our once-a-week sessions, my patient looks very different. She meets my gaze, smiles, is dressed less like a five-year-old and more like
a 30-year-old, and is struggling with her now husband. “He’s such a show off. He dominates conversations so nobody else can say anything,” she tells me,
describing an excruciating evening at an Indian restaurant. She is exasperated by his bullying at home, always shouting about her incompetent recycling,
her use of the central heating and her not switching lights off (when she is actually in the room). While her job in publishing is going well, he is currently
out of work, the eco-start up thing that he was involved with didn’t start up.
[5]   I won’t go into detail about her psychotherapy journey, but she is a favourite in my supervision group because she is funny and insightful, desperate
to get out of depression, initially to please her Adonis, but ultimately for herself. She’d chosen someone she felt was her superior in order to prove her lack
of self-worth and was re-enacting a miserable childhood in which she was always ignored in favour of (and also by) a golden brother.
[6]   But now what? I’ve often heard anti-therapy types complain that therapists turn couples against each other, that if one party is in therapy the marriage
is doomed. I suspect this is often true—an unhappy person is often unhappy specifically in their relationship. But this relationship was based purely on
fantasy. My patient had ludicrously idealised an ordinary guy and he liked it (as it fed his narcissism). She was unable to know the real person, seeing only
the glittering fantasy that revealed her own worthlessness. Once she’d recovered her reality-testing, withdrawn her colossal projections of perfection into
him, and was more able to see the world as it is, the rose-coloured veil slipped away and she is left with a man as flawed as any other: as flawed as herself.
[7]   Since she didn’t choose him clear-sightedly, she didn’t choose him at all. She chose a fantasy. Though reality has allowed her to accept herself, she’s
now going to have to accept or reject him, without the auriferous sheen [brilho].
Adapted from Prospect, June 2017. 

PERFECT LIE
By Anna Blundy

[1]   It was as though he was sitting in the consulting room with us, a golden figure of male beauty, intelligent sensitivity, sparkling wit and an endless
capacity for good. This was established by my patient as a stark contrast to all her multitudinous failings. “I don’t deserve him,” she said, twisting a tissue
in her bitten fingers, legs tucked meekly under her chair. She began (again) to detail her repulsiveness and stupidity.
[2]   She met this Adonis at university where he excelled at everything. Strangely enough, he liked her and they began a relationship that made her feel
inadequate. “He’s just so good socially. Really funny and chatty,” she explained. “I know people look at us and wonder why he’s with me,” she added.
[3]   I was supposed to nod and understand that it must be very painful to be so ugly and crap while he is so perfect. Did I mention that he is multilingual
and that his strong eco-credentials will, sooner rather than later, save the world? Sitting there looking at this crushed girl, I really started to hate this guy.
“He says he can’t put up with my depression much longer. He says it’s embarrassing.” Our Adonis was constantly going to Norway for long stretches. “There
was a girl who liked him, but nothing happened,” she said, eyes pleading.
[4]   Two years into our once-a-week sessions, my patient looks very different. She meets my gaze, smiles, is dressed less like a five-year-old and more like
a 30-year-old, and is struggling with her now husband. “He’s such a show off. He dominates conversations so nobody else can say anything,” she tells me,
describing an excruciating evening at an Indian restaurant. She is exasperated by his bullying at home, always shouting about her incompetent recycling,
her use of the central heating and her not switching lights off (when she is actually in the room). While her job in publishing is going well, he is currently
out of work, the eco-start up thing that he was involved with didn’t start up.
[5]   I won’t go into detail about her psychotherapy journey, but she is a favourite in my supervision group because she is funny and insightful, desperate
to get out of depression, initially to please her Adonis, but ultimately for herself. She’d chosen someone she felt was her superior in order to prove her lack
of self-worth and was re-enacting a miserable childhood in which she was always ignored in favour of (and also by) a golden brother.
[6]   But now what? I’ve often heard anti-therapy types complain that therapists turn couples against each other, that if one party is in therapy the marriage
is doomed. I suspect this is often true—an unhappy person is often unhappy specifically in their relationship. But this relationship was based purely on
fantasy. My patient had ludicrously idealised an ordinary guy and he liked it (as it fed his narcissism). She was unable to know the real person, seeing only
the glittering fantasy that revealed her own worthlessness. Once she’d recovered her reality-testing, withdrawn her colossal projections of perfection into
him, and was more able to see the world as it is, the rose-coloured veil slipped away and she is left with a man as flawed as any other: as flawed as herself.
[7]   Since she didn’t choose him clear-sightedly, she didn’t choose him at all. She chose a fantasy. Though reality has allowed her to accept herself, she’s
now going to have to accept or reject him, without the auriferous sheen [brilho].
Adapted from Prospect, June 2017. 

THEATER OF WAR

[1]   On April 12^th 2014 Igor Girkin, a former Russian military officer also known as “Strelkov” (“Shooter”), sneaked across the border into Ukraine’s Donbas
region with a few dozen men and took control of the small town of Sloviansk, igniting Europe’s bloodiest war since the 1990s. To create the impression of
strength, Mr Girkin, an aficionado of historical battlefield re-enactments, masqueraded as a member of Russia’s special forces, and had his men drive two
armoured personnel carriers around every night to simulate a large build-up. In fact, his army never exceeded 600 men, mainly Cossacks and war-hungry
opportunists like himself.
[2]   Having just lost Crimea and lacking a functioning government or military command after the Maidan revolution, Ukraine was stunned. As Russia
massed its forces on the border with Ukraine, most observers (and participants such as Mr Girkin) expected a swift invasion followed by annexation. Instead,
the Kremlin created an ersatz [falsificada] civil war, absurdly portraying the Kiev government as a “fascist” regime and the separatists as freedom fighters.
As the Ukrainian army moved in to try to retake Donbas, Mr Girkin and his fighters took up positions in a psychiatric hospital on the outskirts of Sloviansk,
using its patients as human shields.
[3]   Today, the ruined psychiatric hospital, resembling a scene out of the battle of Stalingrad, is a symbol of the madness of an essentially theatrical conflict
that has cost 10,000 lives and displaced more than 1.7 million people. Yet officially, Russia and Ukraine are not at war. They maintain diplomatic relations
and trade with each other. Ukraine has euphemistically designated the conflict zone an area of “anti-terrorist operations.” Most of the people caught up in
the war do not care who started it, or what they call it.
[4]   “I am against everyone,” says Lyudmila Prikhodko, who lives in a restored building among the hospital’s ruins. (The names of civilians in the conflict
zone have been changed.) An engineer, Ms Prikhodko was forced to flee Donetsk after refusing to support the self-proclaimed Donetsk People’s Republic
(DNR). She feels equally alienated from Russia and Ukraine. “DNR treats people like me as enemies. Ukraine sees us as potential separatists.”
[5]   On paper, there is no border between the two parts of Ukraine. In practice, there are several frontier control points, manned by border guards and
customs officials and crossed by those who live in the separatist territories but must work, receive pensions or handle bureaucratic problems on the
Ukrainian side. Andrei Borisov, a smuggler who carries food, cigarettes and pesticides from Ukrainian territory across the line of control, says everyone is
in on the business: customs officers, local officials and separatists on the other side.
Adapted from The Economist , May 24th 2017. 

THEATER OF WAR

[1]   On April 12^th 2014 Igor Girkin, a former Russian military officer also known as “Strelkov” (“Shooter”), sneaked across the border into Ukraine’s Donbas
region with a few dozen men and took control of the small town of Sloviansk, igniting Europe’s bloodiest war since the 1990s. To create the impression of
strength, Mr Girkin, an aficionado of historical battlefield re-enactments, masqueraded as a member of Russia’s special forces, and had his men drive two
armoured personnel carriers around every night to simulate a large build-up. In fact, his army never exceeded 600 men, mainly Cossacks and war-hungry
opportunists like himself.
[2]   Having just lost Crimea and lacking a functioning government or military command after the Maidan revolution, Ukraine was stunned. As Russia
massed its forces on the border with Ukraine, most observers (and participants such as Mr Girkin) expected a swift invasion followed by annexation. Instead,
the Kremlin created an ersatz [falsificada] civil war, absurdly portraying the Kiev government as a “fascist” regime and the separatists as freedom fighters.
As the Ukrainian army moved in to try to retake Donbas, Mr Girkin and his fighters took up positions in a psychiatric hospital on the outskirts of Sloviansk,
using its patients as human shields.
[3]   Today, the ruined psychiatric hospital, resembling a scene out of the battle of Stalingrad, is a symbol of the madness of an essentially theatrical conflict
that has cost 10,000 lives and displaced more than 1.7 million people. Yet officially, Russia and Ukraine are not at war. They maintain diplomatic relations
and trade with each other. Ukraine has euphemistically designated the conflict zone an area of “anti-terrorist operations.” Most of the people caught up in
the war do not care who started it, or what they call it.
[4]   “I am against everyone,” says Lyudmila Prikhodko, who lives in a restored building among the hospital’s ruins. (The names of civilians in the conflict
zone have been changed.) An engineer, Ms Prikhodko was forced to flee Donetsk after refusing to support the self-proclaimed Donetsk People’s Republic
(DNR). She feels equally alienated from Russia and Ukraine. “DNR treats people like me as enemies. Ukraine sees us as potential separatists.”
[5]   On paper, there is no border between the two parts of Ukraine. In practice, there are several frontier control points, manned by border guards and
customs officials and crossed by those who live in the separatist territories but must work, receive pensions or handle bureaucratic problems on the
Ukrainian side. Andrei Borisov, a smuggler who carries food, cigarettes and pesticides from Ukrainian territory across the line of control, says everyone is
in on the business: customs officers, local officials and separatists on the other side.
Adapted from The Economist , May 24th 2017.