On not knowing English1

When I first came to England in 1938 I thought I knew English very well, In Europe my English was quite good.

In England I found two difficulties. First: I did not understand people. Secondly: people did not understand me. It was easier with written texts. Whenever I read a leading article in The Times, I understood everything perfectly well, except that I could never understand whether The Times was for or against something.

The first step in my progress was when people started understanding me while I still could not understand them. This was the most talkative period in my life. I reached the stage of intelligibility² fairly quickly, thanks to a friend of mine who discovered an important secret, namely that the English mutter and mumble³. Once we noticed a thing in a shop window which looked like sausage and was marked pork brawn⁴. We decided to buy some for our supper. We entered the shop and I said: "A quarter of pork brawn, please." "What was that?" asked the shopkeeper looking at me. "A quarter of pork brawn, please," I repeated, still casually I repeated it again. I repeated it a dozen times with no success. I talked slowly and softly; I talked as one talks to the deaf and finally I tried baby-talk⁵. The shopkeeper still had no idea whether we wanted to buy or sell something. Then my friend … .

¹ On Not Knowing English — "Про незнання англійської мови"

² І reached the stage of intelligibility - Я досяг того рівня, коли мене почали розуміти

³ namely that the English mutter and mumble — а саме, що англійці бурмотять і мимрять

⁴ pork brawn — свинячий сальтисон

⁵ І tried baby-talk — я спробував розмовляти по-дитячому

Додаток № 7

A young naturalist

(After James O'Brien)

When I was ten years old, one of my older cousins gave me a micro­scope. The first time I looked through its magic lens¹, the clouds that sur­rounded² my daily life rolled away. I saw a universe of tiny living crea­tures in a drop of water. Day after day, night after night, I studied life un­der my microscope. I learned to speak to Nature in language my family and friends could not understand. I also could pass through the Doorway and ex­plore Life's most secret rooms.

The fungus³ that spoiled my mother's jam was, for me, a land of magic gardens. I felt as if I had discovered another Garden of Eden.⁴ Al­though I didn't tell anyone about my secret world, I decided to spend my life studying the microscope.

My parents had other plans for me. When I was nearly twenty years old, they insisted that I learn a profession — even though we were a rich family, and I really didn't have to work at all. I decided to study medicine in New York. This city was far away from my family, so I could spend my time as I pleased. As long as I paid my medical school fees⁵ every year, my family would never know I wasn't attending any class. In New York I would be able to buy excellent microscopes, and meet scientists from all over the world. 1 would have plenty of money and plenty of time to spend on my dream. I left home with high hopes.

Two days after I arrived in New York, I found a place to live. It was large enough for me to use one of the rooms as my laboratory. I filled this room with expensive scientific equipment I did not now how to use. But by the end of my first year in the city, I had become an expert with the mi­croscope. I also had becоme more and more unhappy.

The lens in my expensive microscope was still not strong enough to answer my questions about life.

1. lens — лінза; 2. surround — оточувати; 3. fungus — пліснява; 4.Garden of Eden — Сад Едема (Райський сад); 5. school fees — плата за навчання.

Додаток № 8