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Subject: Re: Instructions for the Morphology Online Seminar


Author:
Ana Carolina Ferreira
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Date Posted: 14:28:41 10/02/09 Fri
In reply to: Ana Paula Rezende 's message, "Re: Instructions for the Morphology Online Seminar" on 19:48:12 10/01/09 Thu
 Hi Ana! IŽll work with your text.

This is my text for analysis.
>
>Eveline - James Joyce
>
> SHE sat at the window watching the evening invade
>the avenue. Her head was leaned against the window
>curtains and in her nostrils was the odour of dusty
>cretonne. She was tired.
> Few people passed. The man out of the last house
>passed on his way home; she heard his footsteps
>clacking along the concrete pavement and afterwards
>crunching on the cinder path before the new red
>houses. One time there used to be a field there in
>which they used to play every evening with other
>people's children. Then a man from Belfast bought the
>field and built houses in it -- not like their little
>brown houses but bright brick houses with shining
>roofs. The children of the avenue used to play
>together in that field -- the Devines, the Waters, the
>Dunns, little Keogh the cripple, she and her brothers
>and sisters. Ernest, however, never played: he was too
>grown up. Her father used often to hunt them in out of
>the field with his blackthorn stick; but usually
>little Keogh used to keep nix and call out when he saw
>her father coming. Still they seemed to have been
>rather happy then. Her father was not so bad then; and
>besides, her mother was alive. That was a long time
>ago; she and her brothers and sisters were all grown
>up her mother was dead. Tizzie Dunn was dead, too, and
>the Waters had gone back to England. Everything
>changes. Now she was going to go away like the others,
>to leave her home.
> Home! She looked round the room, reviewing all its
>familiar objects which she had dusted once a week for
>so many years, wondering where on earth all the dust
>came from. Perhaps she would never see again those
>familiar objects from which she had never dreamed of
>being divided. And yet during all those years she had
>never found out the name of the priest whose yellowing
>photograph hung on the wall above the broken harmonium
>beside the coloured print of the promises made to
>Blessed Margaret Mary Alacoque. He had been a school
>friend of her father. Whenever he showed the
>photograph to a visitor her father used to pass it
>with a casual word:
>
> "He is in Melbourne now."
>
>She had consented to go away, to leave her home. Was
>that wise? She tried to weigh each side of the
>question.
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Replies:
Subject Author Date
Re: Instructions for the Morphology Online SeminarAna Carolina Ferreira18:25:45 10/02/09 Fri
    The analysis of Ana PaulaŽs textAna Carolina Ferreira18:28:21 10/02/09 Fri

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