Questões de Inglês

READ TEXT 2 AND ANSWER QUESTION:

Music produces profound and lasting changes in the brain. Schools should add classes, not cut them

 

Studies have shown that assiduous instrument training from an early age can help the brain to process sounds better, making it easier to stay focused when absorbing other subjects, from literature to tensor calculus. The musically adept are better able to concentrate on a biology lesson despite the racket in the classroom or, a few years later, to finish a call with a client when a colleague in the next cubicle starts screaming at an underling. They can attend to several things at once in the mental scratch pad called working memory, an essential skill in this era of multitasking […]Sadly, fewer schools are giving students an opportunity to learn an instrument.

(adapted from http://www.scientificamerican.com/article.cfm?id=hearing-themusic- honing)

The underlined word in “despite the racket in the classroom” refers to:

READ TEXT 2 AND ANSWER QUESTION:

Music produces profound and lasting changes in the brain. Schools should add classes, not cut them

 

Studies have shown that assiduous instrument training from an early age can help the brain to process sounds better, making it easier to stay focused when absorbing other subjects, from literature to tensor calculus. The musically adept are better able to concentrate on a biology lesson despite the racket in the classroom or, a few years later, to finish a call with a client when a colleague in the next cubicle starts screaming at an underling. They can attend to several things at once in the mental scratch pad called working memory, an essential skill in this era of multitasking […]Sadly, fewer schools are giving students an opportunity to learn an instrument.

(adapted from http://www.scientificamerican.com/article.cfm?id=hearing-themusic- honing)

The text informs the reader that:

“I leaned over my meal, lost. When I finally managed to confront him from the depths of my pallid face, I observed that he, too, was leaning forward, his elbows resting on the table, his head between his hands. And obviously he could bear it no longer. His bushy eyebrows were touching. His food must have lodged just below his throat under the stress of his emotion, for when he was able to continue, he made a visible effort to swallow, dabbing his forehead with his napkin. I could bear it no longer, the meat on my plate was raw… and I really could not bear it another minute. But he – he was eating.

The waiter brought a bottle in a bucket of ice. I noted every detail without being capable of discrimination. The bottle was different, the waiter in tails, and the light haloed the robust head of Pluto which was now moving with curiosity, greedy and attentive. For a second the waiter obliterated my view of the elderly gentleman and I could only see his black coattails hovering over the table as he poured red wine into the glass and waited with ardent eyes – because here was a surely man who would tip generously, one of those elderly gentlemen who still command attention… and power. The elderly gentleman, who now seemed larger, confidently took a sip, lowered his glass, and sourly considered the taste in his mouth. He compressed his lips and smacked them with distaste, as if the good were also intolerable. I waited, the waiter waited, and we both leaned forward in suspense. Finally he made a grimace of approval. The waiter curved his shiny head in submission to the man’s words of thanks and went off with lowered head, while I sighed with relief.

He now mingled gulps of wine with the meat in his great mouth and his false teeth ponderously chewed while I observed him… in vain. Nothing more happened. The restaurant appeared to radiate with renewed intensity under the tinkling of glass and cutlery; in the brightly lit dome of the room the whispered conversation rose and fell in gentle waves; the woman in the large hat smiled with half closed eyes, looking slender and beautiful as the waiter carefully poured the wine into her glass. But now he was making another gesture.”

 

The sentence “while I observed him… in vain” suggests that the narrator:

“I leaned over my meal, lost. When I finally managed to confront him from the depths of my pallid face, I observed that he, too, was leaning forward, his elbows resting on the table, his head between his hands. And obviously he could bear it no longer. His bushy eyebrows were touching. His food must have lodged just below his throat under the stress of his emotion, for when he was able to continue, he made a visible effort to swallow, dabbing his forehead with his napkin. I could bear it no longer, the meat on my plate was raw… and I really could not bear it another minute. But he – he was eating.

The waiter brought a bottle in a bucket of ice. I noted every detail without being capable of discrimination. The bottle was different, the waiter in tails, and the light haloed the robust head of Pluto which was now moving with curiosity, greedy and attentive. For a second the waiter obliterated my view of the elderly gentleman and I could only see his black coattails hovering over the table as he poured red wine into the glass and waited with ardent eyes – because here was a surely man who would tip generously, one of those elderly gentlemen who still command attention… and power. The elderly gentleman, who now seemed larger, confidently took a sip, lowered his glass, and sourly considered the taste in his mouth. He compressed his lips and smacked them with distaste, as if the good were also intolerable. I waited, the waiter waited, and we both leaned forward in suspense. Finally he made a grimace of approval. The waiter curved his shiny head in submission to the man’s words of thanks and went off with lowered head, while I sighed with relief.

He now mingled gulps of wine with the meat in his great mouth and his false teeth ponderously chewed while I observed him… in vain. Nothing more happened. The restaurant appeared to radiate with renewed intensity under the tinkling of glass and cutlery; in the brightly lit dome of the room the whispered conversation rose and fell in gentle waves; the woman in the large hat smiled with half closed eyes, looking slender and beautiful as the waiter carefully poured the wine into her glass. But now he was making another gesture.”

 

“And obviously he could bear it no longer”. In this sentence, the pronoun “it” refers to:

“I leaned over my meal, lost. When I finally managed to confront him from the depths of my pallid face, I observed that he, too, was leaning forward, his elbows resting on the table, his head between his hands. And obviously he could bear it no longer. His bushy eyebrows were touching. His food must have lodged just below his throat under the stress of his emotion, for when he was able to continue, he made a visible effort to swallow, dabbing his forehead with his napkin. I could bear it no longer, the meat on my plate was raw… and I really could not bear it another minute. But he – he was eating.

The waiter brought a bottle in a bucket of ice. I noted every detail without being capable of discrimination. The bottle was different, the waiter in tails, and the light haloed the robust head of Pluto which was now moving with curiosity, greedy and attentive. For a second the waiter obliterated my view of the elderly gentleman and I could only see his black coattails hovering over the table as he poured red wine into the glass and waited with ardent eyes – because here was a surely man who would tip generously, one of those elderly gentlemen who still command attention… and power. The elderly gentleman, who now seemed larger, confidently took a sip, lowered his glass, and sourly considered the taste in his mouth. He compressed his lips and smacked them with distaste, as if the good were also intolerable. I waited, the waiter waited, and we both leaned forward in suspense. Finally he made a grimace of approval. The waiter curved his shiny head in submission to the man’s words of thanks and went off with lowered head, while I sighed with relief.

He now mingled gulps of wine with the meat in his great mouth and his false teeth ponderously chewed while I observed him… in vain. Nothing more happened. The restaurant appeared to radiate with renewed intensity under the tinkling of glass and cutlery; in the brightly lit dome of the room the whispered conversation rose and fell in gentle waves; the woman in the large hat smiled with half closed eyes, looking slender and beautiful as the waiter carefully poured the wine into her glass. But now he was making another gesture.”

 

Consider the two following passages: “For a second the waiter obliterated my view of the elderly gentleman” and “But now he was making another gesture”. They lead to the conclusion that the narrator:

“I leaned over my meal, lost. When I finally managed to confront him from the depths of my pallid face, I observed that he, too, was leaning forward, his elbows resting on the table, his head between his hands. And obviously he could bear it no longer. His bushy eyebrows were touching. His food must have lodged just below his throat under the stress of his emotion, for when he was able to continue, he made a visible effort to swallow, dabbing his forehead with his napkin. I could bear it no longer, the meat on my plate was raw… and I really could not bear it another minute. But he – he was eating.

The waiter brought a bottle in a bucket of ice. I noted every detail without being capable of discrimination. The bottle was different, the waiter in tails, and the light haloed the robust head of Pluto which was now moving with curiosity, greedy and attentive. For a second the waiter obliterated my view of the elderly gentleman and I could only see his black coattails hovering over the table as he poured red wine into the glass and waited with ardent eyes – because here was a surely man who would tip generously, one of those elderly gentlemen who still command attention… and power. The elderly gentleman, who now seemed larger, confidently took a sip, lowered his glass, and sourly considered the taste in his mouth. He compressed his lips and smacked them with distaste, as if the good were also intolerable. I waited, the waiter waited, and we both leaned forward in suspense. Finally he made a grimace of approval. The waiter curved his shiny head in submission to the man’s words of thanks and went off with lowered head, while I sighed with relief.

He now mingled gulps of wine with the meat in his great mouth and his false teeth ponderously chewed while I observed him… in vain. Nothing more happened. The restaurant appeared to radiate with renewed intensity under the tinkling of glass and cutlery; in the brightly lit dome of the room the whispered conversation rose and fell in gentle waves; the woman in the large hat smiled with half closed eyes, looking slender and beautiful as the waiter carefully poured the wine into her glass. But now he was making another gesture.”

 

“He compressed his lips and smacked them with distaste, as if the good were also intolerable” means that: