Beatriz
Maria de Souza R.A.:B83AHB-7 Glízia Paulo de
Menezes R.A.:B694FD-0 Marina C. P. Palumbo R.A.: B7624A-0 Tiago Reis RA.: B4094G-8
Plano de aula
·
Objetivos: Escolher uma narrativa da Língua
Inglesa para ser trabalhado em sala de aula com alunos do Ensino Médio de uma
forma que possa abranger o conteúdo programático.
·
Narrativa: Eveline, conto de James Joyce.
·
Desenvolvimento: Análise da narrativa.
·
Tópico da aula: Gramática.
·
Desenvolvimento: Estudo da gramática través
da narrativa.
Narrativa
Eveline (1914), James Joyce
(1882-1941).
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 2 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. In her home anyway she had shelter and food; she had those whom she
had known all her life about her. O course she had to work hard, both in the
house and at business. What would they say of her in the Stores when they found
out that she had run away with a fellow? Say she was a fool, perhaps; and her
place would be filled up by advertisement. Miss Gavan would be glad. She had
always had an edge on her, especially whenever there were people listening.
“Miss Hill, don't you
see these ladies are waiting?”
“Look lively, Miss
Hill, please.”
She would not cry
many tears at leaving the Stores.
But in her new home,
in a distant unknown country, it would not be like that. Then she would be
married—she, Eveline. People would treat her with respect then. She would not
be treated as her mother had been. Even now, though she was over nineteen, she
sometimes felt herself in danger of her father's violence. She knew it was that
that had given her the palpitations. When they were growing up he had never
gone for her like he used to go for Harry and Ernest, because she was a girl;
but latterly he had begun to threaten her and say 3 what he would do to her
only for her dead mother's sake. And now she had nobody to protect her. Ernest
was dead and Harry, who was in the church decorating business, was nearly
always down somewhere in the country. Besides, the invariable squabble for
money on Saturday nights had begun to weary her unspeakably. She always gave
her entire wages— seven shillings—and Harry always sent up what he could but
the trouble was to get any money from her father. He said she used to squander
the money, that she had no head, that he wasn't going to give her his
hard-earned money to throw about the streets, and much more, for he was usually
fairly bad on Saturday night. In the end he would give her the money and ask
her had she any intention of buying Sunday's dinner. Then she had to rush out
as quickly as she could and do her marketing, holding her black leather purse
tightly in her hand as she elbowed her way through the crowds and returning
home late under her load of provisions. She had hard work to keep the house
together and to see that the two young children who had been left to hr charge
went to school regularly and got their meals regularly. It was hard work—a hard
life—but now that she was about to leave it she did not find it a wholly
undesirable life.
She was about to
explore another life with Frank. Frank was very kind, manly, openhearted. She
was to go away with him by the night-boat to be his wife and to live with him
in Buenos Ayres where he had a home waiting for her. How well she remembered
the first time she had seen him; he was lodging in a house on the main road
where she used to visit. It seemed a few weeks ago. He was standing at the
gate, his peaked cap pushed back on his head and his hair tumbled forward over
a face of bronze. Then they had come to know each other. He used to meet her
outside the Stores every evening and see her home. He took her to 4 see The
Bohemian Girl and she felt elated as she sat in an unaccustomed part of the
theatre with him. He was awfully fond of music and sang a little. People knew
that they were courting and, when he sang about the lass that loves a sailor,
she always felt pleasantly confused. He used to call her Poppens out of fun.
First of all it had been an excitement for her to have a fellow and then she
had begun to like him. He had tales of distant countries. He had started as a
deck boy at a pound a month on a ship of the Allan Line going out to Canada. He
told her the names of the ships he had been on and the names of the different
services. He had sailed through the Straits of Magellan and he told her stories
of the terrible Patagonians. He had fallen on his feet in Buenos Ayres, he
said, and had come over to the old country just for a holiday. Of course, her
father had found out the affair and had forbidden her to have anything to say
to him.
“I know these sailor
chaps,” he said.
One day he had
quarrelled with Frank and after that she had to meet her lover secretly.
The evening deepened
in the avenue. The white of two letters in her lap grew indistinct. One was to
Harry; the other was to her father. Ernest had been her favourite but she liked
Harry too. Her father was becoming old lately, she noticed; he would miss her.
Sometimes he could be very nice. Not long before, when she had been laid up for
a day, he had read her out a ghost story and made toast for her at the fire.
Another day, when their mother was alive, they had all gone for a picnic to the
Hill of Howth. She remembered her father putting on her mother’s bonnet to make
the children laugh. 5
Her time was running
out but she continued to sit by the window, leaning her head against the window
curtain, inhaling the odour of dusty cretonne. Down far in the avenue she could
hear a street organ playing. She knew the air. Strange that it should come that
very night to remind her of the promise to her mother, her promise to keep the
home together as long as she could. She remembered the last night of her
mother's illness; she was again in the close dark room at the other side of the
hall and outside she heard a melancholy air of Italy. The organ-player had been
ordered to go away and given sixpence. She remembered her father strutting back
into the sickroom saying:
“Damned Italians!
coming over here!”
As she mused the
pitiful vision of her mother's life laid its spell on the very quick of her
being—that life of commonplace sacrifices closing in final craziness. She
trembled as she heard again her mother's voice saying constantly with foolish
insistence:
“Derevaun Seraun!
Derevaun Seraun!”
She stood up in a
sudden impulse of terror. Escape! She must escape! Frank would save her. He
would give her life, perhaps love, too. But she wanted to live. Why should she
be unhappy? She had a right to happiness. Frank would take her in his arms,
fold her in his arms. He would save her.
She stood among the
swaying crowd in the station at the North Wall. He held her hand and she knew
that he was speaking to her, saying something about the passage over and over
again. The station was full of soldiers with brown baggages. Through the wide
doors of the sheds she caught a glimpse of the black mass of the boat, lying in
beside the quay wall, 6 with illumined portholes. She answered nothing. She
felt her cheek pale and cold and, out of a maze of distress, she prayed to God
to direct her, to show her what was her duty. The boat blew a long mournful
whistle into the mist. If she went, tomorrow she would be on the sea with
Frank, steaming towards Buenos Ayres. Their passage had been booked. Could she
still draw back after all he had done for her? Her distress awoke a nausea in
her body and she kept moving her lips in silent fervent prayer.
A bell clanged upon
her heart. She felt him seize her hand:
“Come!”
All the seas of the
world tumbled about her heart. He was drawing her into them: he would drown
her. She gripped with both hands at the iron railing.
“Come!”
No! No! No! It was
impossible. Her hands clutched the iron in frenzy. Amid the seas she sent a cry
of anguish.
“Eveline! Evvy!”
He rushed beyond the
barrier and called to her to follow. He was shouted at to go on but he still
called to her. She set her white face to him, passive, like a helpless animal.
Her eyes gave him no sign of love or farewell or recognition.
Análise
Crítica
O
conto Eveline retrata a vida monótona como uma segurança de estado mental. O
conforto da mesmice, mesmo que sofrida e de passado abusivo, Eveline prefere
servir seu pai nessa vida de doação aos outros a fugir com um possível amor que
poderia mudar sua vida,, considerando o desconhecido que a esperaria com a vida
a dois num lugar que não era sua própria casa com as lembranças sofridas de sua
infância. O suposto portal para uma vida que de fato seria maravilhosa para
Eveline e a incerteza de seguir nesse portal, deixa uma interpretação do quão
medroso pode ser o desconhecido.
Tópico da aula
O
tema da aula será gramatical. Vamos abordar o Simple Past, que é o passado simples.
Desenvolvimento:
Estudo da gramática través da narrativa.
Os
alunos deverão primeiramente fazer uma leitura rápida do conto, sem parar para
checar quaisquer que sejam as dúvidas de vocabulário. Após essa leitura rápida,
o professor irá sugerir que todos os alunos grifem todos os verbos no passado.
Como a narrativa foca bastante no passado de Eveline, será muito provável que o
entendimento do conto se dê depois da análise das frases no passado com maior
eficácia.
Assim sendo, depois que os alunos puderem entender essas
frases no passado, compreenderem a estrutura do Simple Past, a aula pode estar aberta para dúvidas do conto,
explicação de pontos difíceis da leitura de cada aluno e compreensão através de
uma lista de verbos proporcionado pelo professor com os principais verbos do
conto.
Conseguinte, os alunos terão como proposta, escrever um
conto que retrate a Eveline no no século 21, propondo sua escolha diante a
dúvida de Eveline em relação ao trocar o que era estável e mediano por algo
novo e distemido.
Por fim, haveria envolvimento suficiente tanto para o
interpretação do conto como para o entendimento do ponto gramatical aplicado
sobre o conto.
Cronograma de aula
A aula totaliza 50 minutos.
Nos primeiros 10 minutos, será feita a leitura rápida. Após a leitura os alunos
terão o total de 15 minutos para identificar os verbos no passado e checar a
llista de verbos oferecida pelo professor para o entendimento das frases no Simple Past. Com a identificação e
interpretação das frases, serão oferecidos 20 minutos para discussão das frases
que causaram dúvidas nos alunos. Os últimos 5 minutos servirão para apresentar
a proposta da escrita de um conto, mas usando Eveline como uma garota de 19
anos no século 21.
Conclusão
O conto que poderia gerar
uma suposta rejeição com os alunos do Ensino Médio, tomará outro sentindo
quando a proposta for algo parecido com um jogo de palavras que foca em
encontrar os verbos no passado. Algo dinâmico que proporcionará uma leitura
prazerosa, algo um pouco difícil quando se trata de adolescentes. A proposta
dada ao terminar a aula, irá gerar uma grande polêmica, levando em consideração
que cada aluno poderá dar um futuro diferente a Eveline. A atividade proposta
fará com que os alunos tenham interesse pela Literatura Americana, mesmo sem
perceber. Isso pode gerar um possível gosto por esse tipo de narrativa ou até
mesmo criar bons escritores.
