Exercise 5. Comment on the stylistically relevant syntactical peculiarities in the following abstracts from «Mac-American» by j. Reed:

1. ...Mac looked at me with some distaste. «I'm not a religious man». He spat. «But I don't go around knocking God. There's too much risk in it». — «Risk of what?» — «Why, when you die — you know...» Now he was disgusted and angry.

2. «When I came down to Burlington to work in the lumber mill, I was only a kid about sixteen. My brother had been working there already a year, and he took me up to board at the same house as him. He was four years older than me — a big guy, too; but a little soft... Always kept bulling around about how wrong it was to fight, and that kind of stuff. Never would hit me— even when he got hot at me because he said I was smaller».

3. «It was a bad fight. He was out to kill me. I tried to kill him, too. A big, red cloud came over me, and I went raging, tearing mad. See this ear?) Mac indicated the stump of the member alluded to. «He did that. I got him in one eye, though, so he never saw again. We soon quit using fists; we scratched. And choked, and bit, and kicked. They say my brother let out a roar like a bull every few minutes, but I just opened my mouth and screamed all the time...».

Exercise 6. Analyze the functions performed by syntactical expressive devices in the following abstracts; state the type of stylistic coloring imparted to the narration by these devices:

1. The sidewalks ran like Spring ice going out, grinding and hur­ried and packed close from bank to bank. Ferret-faced slim men, white-faced slim women, gleam of white shirtfronts, silk hats, nodding flowery broad hats, silver veils over dark hair, hard little somber hats with a dab of vermilion, satin slippers, petticoat-edges, patent-leathers, rouge and enamel and patches. Voluptuous exciting perfumes. Whiffs of cigarette smoke caught up to gold radiance, bluely. Cafe and restaurant music scarcely heard, rhythmical. Lights, sound, swift feverish pleas­ure... First the flood came slowly, then full tide — furs richer than in Russia, silks than the Orient, jewels than Paris, faces and eyes and bodies the desire of the world — then the rapid ebb, and the street-walkers (Reed).

2. I wandered down the feverish street, checkered with light and shade, crowned with necklaces and pendants and lavaliers and sunbursts of light, littered with rags and papers, torn up for subway construction, patrolled by the pickets of womankind. One tall, thin girl who walked ahead of me I watched. Her face was deadly pale, and her lips like blood. Three times I saw her speak to men — three times edge into their paths, and with a hawklike tilt of her head murmur to them from the corner of her mouth (Reed).

3. We sat against the wall, watching the flush of faces, the white­ness of slim shoulders, hearing the too loud laughter, smelling cigarette smoke and the odor that is like the taste of too much champagne. Two orchestras brayed, drummed and banged al­ternately. A dance for the guests — then professional dancers and singers, hitching spasmodically, bawling flatly meaningless words to swift rhythm. Then the lights went out, all except the spot on the performers, and in the drunken dark we kissed hotly. Flash! Lights on again, burst of hard hilarity, whirl of shouting words, words, words, rush of partners to the dance floor, orchestra crashing syncopated breathless idiocy, bodies swaying and jerking in wild unison (Reed).