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Примерный образец анализа текста (the text and the example of analysis)
the text and the example of analysis

J. Cheever

The last time I saw my father was in Grand Central Station. I was going from my grandmother's in the Adirondacks to a cottage on the Cape that my mother had rented, and I wrote my father that I would be in New York between trains for an hour and a half, and asked if we could have lunch together. His secretary wrote to say that he would meet me at the information booth at noon, and at twelve o'clock sharp I saw him coming through the crowd. He was a stranger to me - my mother divorced him three years ago and I hadn't seen him since - but as soon as I saw him I felt that he was my father, my flesh and blood, my future and my doom. I knew that when I was grown I would be something like him; I would have to plan my campaigns within his limitations. He was a big, good-looking man, and I was terribly happy to see him again. He struck me on the back and shook my hand. `Hi, Charlie,' he said. `Hi, boy. I'd like to take you up to my club, but it's in the Sixties, and if you have to catch an early train I guess we'd better get something to eat around here.' He put his arm around me, and I smelled my father the way my mother sniffs a rose. It was a rich compound of whiskey, after-shave lotion, shoe polish, woolens, and the rankness of the mature male. I hoped that someone would see us together. I wished that we could be photographed. I wanted some record of our having been together. 

We went out of the station and up a side street to a restaurant. It was still early, and the place was empty. The bartender was quarrelling with a delivery boy, and there was one very old waiter in a red coat down by the kitchen door. We sat down, and my father hailed the waiter in a loud voice. `Kellner!' he shouted. `Carbon!Cameriere! You!' His boisterousness in the empty restaurant seemed out of place. `Could we have a little service here!' he shouted. `Chop-chop.' Then he clapped his hands. This caught the waiter's attention, and he shuffled over to our table. 

`Were you clapping your hands at me?' he asked. 

`Calm down, calm down, sommelier,' my father said. `If it isn't too much to ask of you - if it wouldn't be above and beyond the call of duty, we would like a couple of Beefeater Gibsons.' 

`I don't like to be clapped at,' the waiter said. 

`I should have brought my whistle,' my father said. `I have a whistle that is audible only to the ears of old waiters. Now, take out your little pad and your little pencil and see if you can get this straight: two Beefeater Gibsons. Repeat after me: two Beefeater Gibsons.' 

`I think you'd better go somewhere else,' the waiter said quietly. 

`That,' said my father, `is one of the most brilliant suggestions I have ever heard. Come on, Charlie, let's get the hell out of here.' 

I followed my father out of that restaurant into another. He was not so boisterous this time. Our drinks came, and he cross-questioned me about the baseball season. He then struck the edge of his empty glass with his knife and began shouting again. `Garcon!Kellner! Cameriere! You! Could we trouble you to bring us two more of the same.' `How old is the boy?' the waiter asked. 

`That,' my father said, is none of your God-damned business.' 

`I'm sorry, sir,' the waiter said, `but I won't serve the boy another drink.' 

`Well, I have some news for you,' my father said. `I have some very interesting news for you. This doesn't happen to be the only restaurant in New York. They've opened another on the corner. Come on, Charlie.' 

He paid the bill, and I followed him out of the restaurant into another. Here the waiters wore pink jackets like hunting coats, and there was a lot of horse tack on the walls. We sat down, and my father began to shout again. `Master of the hounds!Tallyhoo and all that sort of thing. We'd like a little something in the way of a stirrup cup. Namely, two BibsonGeefeaters.'

`Two BibsonGeefeaters?' the waiter asked, smiling. 

`You know damned well what I want,' my father said angrily. `I want two Beefeater Gibsons, and make it snappy. Things have changed in jolly old England. So my friend the duke tells me. Let's see what England can produce in the way of a cocktail.' 

`This isn't England,' the waiter said. 

`Don't argue with me,' my father said. `Just do as you're told.' 

`I just thought you might like to know where you are,' the waiter said. 

`If there is one thing I cannot tolerate,' my father said, `it is an impudent domestic. Come on, Charlie.' 

The fourth place we went to was Italian. `Buongiorno,' my father said. `Per favore, possiamoavere due cocktail americani, forti, forti. Molto gin, pocovermut.' 

`I don't understand Italian,' the waiter said. 

`Oh, come off it,' my father said. `You understand Italian, and you know damned well you do. Vogliamo due cocktail americani.Subito.'

The waiter left us and spoke with the captain, who came over to our table and said, `I'm sorry, sir, but this table is reserved.' 

`All right,' my father said. `Get us another table.' `All the tables are reserved,' the captain said. 

`I get it,' my father said. `You don't desire our patronage. Is that it? Well, the hell with you. Vadaall'inferno. Let's go, Charlie.' 

`I have to get my train,' I said. 

`I sorry, sonny,' my father said. `I'm terribly sorry,' He put his arm around me and pressed me against him. `I'll walk you back to the station. If there had only been time to go up to my club.'

`That's all right, Daddy,' I said. 

`I'll get you a paper,' he said. `I'll get you a paper to read on the train.' 

Then he went up to a news stand and said, `Kind sir, will you be good enough to favour me with one of your God-damned, no-good, ten-cent afternoon papers?' The clerk turned away from him and stared at a magazine cover. `Is it asking too much, kind sir,' my father said, `is it asking too much for you to sell me one of your disgusting specimens of yellow journalism?' 

`I have to go, Daddy,' I said. `It's late.' 

`Now, just wait a second, sonny,' he said. `Just wait a second. I want to get a rise out of this chap.' 

`Goodbye, Daddy,' I said, and I went down the stairs and got my train, and that was the last time I saw my father.

Analysis of the text
The story under discussion vividly represents Cheever's typical features as a sharp observer of life, a subtle psychologist with a great gift of penetrating into the minds of his characters at crucial moments of their lives, a skilful writer. It represents the narrator's recollection of an episode of his teenage life which reflects the complexity of `fathers-sons' relations. 

Cheever writes in his own brief seemingly casual manner, but the verbal plane is only the top of the iceberg. The story of a trivial episode of a boy's meeting with his father turns into an indictment of the whole class with its hypocrisy and narrow-mindedness. 

The story describes a crucial moment in the main character's life, though on the surface nothing extraordinary happens. The moment is crucial because the character is a teenager who is passing this serious period of his life which, to a great extent, determines everybody's adult life. The event described is very important for the boy. He meets his father whom he hasn't seen for 3 years and he looks forward to this meeting as a beginning of his wonderful reunion with his father. The meeting however turns out to be a complete disappointment. So the title `Reunion' acquires an ironic implication because in fact it is not a story of reunion but a story of separation. The irony is enhanced by framing - the story opens and ends with the same words `the last time I saw my father'. 
Thus the author introduces the theme of the story - a teenager's frustration and crash of his hopes. But it is not only the psychological conflict of the boy's cheated expectations that is in the focus of the writer's attention but also the external conflict between material wealth and spiritual degradation. 

The story is the first person narration. It is obvious that the narrator recollects the event when he is already a mature man. At first it may seem that the man is not inclined to tell the reader much about his life and feeling, but a skilful reader will always discern deeper implications behind words. The boy is a neglected child whose parents are divorced and it seems he does not even have a permanent place of living (home); he is constantly travelling from his mother to his grandmother and back. The boy hasn't seen his father for 3 years which implies that his father neglects him and his mother doesn't encourage their meetings. 

It was apparently the boy's personal decision to write to his father and appoint the meeting. However the answer came not directly from his father but from his secretary who wrote that he would come at noon. The father was punctual (as a reliable businessman) and came at 12 o'clock sharp. When Charlie saw him he experienced contradictory feelings - the father was a stranger to him but at the same time `his flesh and blood, his future and his doom'. This periphrasis backed by parallelism reveals the boy's psychological state at the moment - he was excited, elated, full of hope and expectation. The hackneyed oxymoron `terribly happy' adds to the description. 

The reader sees the man through the son's perception and he cannot but see that the boy is proud of his father (`a big good-looking man'), he longs to have a father, a real man by his side. This idea is emphasized by parallelism in the last three sentences of the first paragraph (I hoped, I wished, I wanted). His father `smelled' of what the son lacked in his teenager life with two females, mother and grandmother. 

The central part of the story describes the father and the son's visiting four restaurants. Instead of taking the son to his club and having a quiet talk with him the father brought him to a restaurant in a side street, very small and common (there was only one old waiter, the bartender was quarrelling with a delivery boy). But they did not stay there long as the father was rude and boisterous which is contrasted to the waiter's polite and quiet manner. The father's aggressive behaviour made the waiter ask the man to leave the place. So father and son went from restaurant to restaurant and wherever they came the man was rude. He was getting drunk which increased his aggressiveness. He did not seem to notice his son. The author doesn't describe Charlie's feeling and his reaction to the father's intoxicated behaviour but it is evident that the boy couldn't have liked it. 

He started to feel ashamed and disappointed. The father did not seem to be interested in the son's life and studies. Only once he cross-questioned Charlie about the baseball season, while the boy longed to be asked about his ambitions and aspirations. The reader feels that the boy gradually realizes what his father is like and in frustration he says he has to go and get his train. This makes the father stop and think how he could please his son before the departure. He was obviously a rich man but to had come to the meeting without a present and now he wanted to compensate for it but could think of nothing better than buying a newspaper for the son. The scene at the news stand was the last straw - the father was humiliating the news stand clerk speaking in his usual manner mixing formal and rude vocabulary. The boy couldn't stand it any longer, he was utterly disappointed and he knew that he `would have to plan his future without his father'. He lifted abruptly without waiting for his father to say a proper goodbye to him. 

The fact that Charlie did not try to contact his father later speaks for itself. He went through a traumatic experience but he got over it. Thus the conflict lies not only on the psychological plane but on the social plane either. The author reveals the realities of the disintegration of the manners and morals of society, where bright surfaces conceal tensions, disorders, anxieties and frustrations of life. 
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