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  3. Sometime late last year I noticed I was having trouble sitting down to read. That’s a problem if you do what I do, but it’s an e

Sometime late last year I noticed I was having trouble sitting down to read. That’s a problem if you do what I do, but it’s an e

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问题     Sometime late last year I noticed I was having trouble sitting down to read. That’s a problem if you do what I do, but it’s an even bigger problem if you’re the kind of person I am. Since I discovered reading, I’ve always been surrounded by stacks of books. I read my way through camp, school, nights, weekends; when my girlfriend and I backpacked through Europe after college graduation, I had to buy a suitcase to accommodate the books I picked up along the way.
    In his 1967 memoir, "Stop-Time," Frank Conroy describes his initiation into literature as an adolescent on Manhattan’s Upper East Side. "I’d lie in bed... ," he writes, "and read one paperback after another until two or three in the morning... The real world dissolved and I was free to drift in fantasy." I know that boy: Growing up in the same neighborhood, I was that boy. And I have always read like that, although these days, I find myself driven by the idea that in their intimacy, the one-to-one attention they require, books are not tools to retreat from but rather to understand and interact with the world.
    So what happened? It isn’t a failure of desire so much as one of will. Or not will, exactly, but focus: the ability to still my mind long enough to inhabit someone else’s world, and to let that someone else inhabit mine. Reading is an act of contemplation, perhaps the only act in which we allow ourselves to merge with the consciousness of another human being. We possess the books we read, animating the waiting stillness of their language, but they possess us also, filling us with thoughts and observations, asking us to make them part of ourselves.
    Such a state is increasingly elusive in our over-networked culture, in which everything new is blogged and tweeted. Today, it seems it is not contemplation we seek but an odd sort of distraction masquerading as being in the know. Why? Because of the illusion that illumination is based on speed, that it is more important to react than to think, that we live in a culture in which something is attached to every bit of time.
    Here we have my reading problem in a nutshell, for books insist we take the opposite position, that we immerse, slow down. "After September 11," Mona Simpson wrote as part of a 2001 LA Weekly round-table on reading during wartime, "I didn’t read books for the news. Books, by their nature, are never new enough." By this, Simpson doesn’t mean she stopped reading; instead, at a moment when it felt as if time was on fast forward, she relied on books to pull back from the onslaught, to distance herself from the present as a way of reconnecting with a more elemental sense of who we are.
    Of course, the source of my distraction is somewhat different: not an event of great significance but the usual ongoing trivialities. I am too susceptible to the tumult of the culture, the sound and fury signifying nothing. What I’m struggling with is the encroachment of the buzz, the sense that there is something out there that merits my attention, when in fact it’s mostly just a series of disconnected riffs and fragments that add up to the anxiety of the age.
We can learn from Paragraph 2 that______.
选项 A、Stop-time led the author into the literature community
B、by reading books, you can escape from the reality
C、the author was born in Manhattan, New York
D、Frank Conroy’s memoir sparked author’s passion for books
答案D
解析 属细节题。选项A张冠李戴，《时间静止》是将弗兰克·康罗伊带人了文学圈，而不是作者，故选项A错误。选项B属于反向干扰，同原文第二段最后一句意思相悖，故选项B错误。选项C断章取义，虽然作者同弗兰克·康罗伊都是在曼哈顿长大的，但这并不代表他们的出生地都是曼哈顿，故选项C错误。通过第二段的一个关键词“intimacy”，我们能够了解到他读书的动力来自两个少年间的密切关系，故选项D符合题意。
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