The opening scene of The King’s Speech was, in a word,
terrifying. The moment King George VI—wonderfully played by Colin Firth—stepped
up to the microphone at Wembley Stadium, a rush of nervousness came over me. It
took me back to my school days, standing at my desk, having to read aloud to
the class. I whispered to my wife, Jill, “A stutterer(口吃者) wrote this screenplay(剧本).
I grew up with a stutter, really afraid
of trying to get through simple sentences—knowing that I would then, or later,
be laughed at. I still remember the reading when I was in 7th grade
at St. Helena’s: “Sir Walter Raleigh was a gentlemen…” I remember reciting,
“Sir Walter Raleigh was a gentlemen.” The school teacher said, “Master
B-B-B-Biden! What’s that word?” She wanted me to say gentlemen. But by then, I
had learned to put my sentences into bite-size pieces and I was reading it:
“gentle”|breath|“man”.
Ninety-nine percent of the time, the
teachers were great. I never had professional treatment but a couple of
teachers taught me to put a regular rise and fall in my tone of speaking, and
that’s why I spent so much time reading poetry. But even in my small, boys’
prep school, I got nailed in my class with the nickname Joe Stutterer.
You get so desperate, you’re so embarrassed. I actually went and stood by the
side of my house once, with a small round stone in my mouth, and tried to talk.
Jill always thought I was kidding until she saw the movie and saw King George
did the same thing.
King George relied on the support his
wife and the help of Lionel Longue, who, in describing working with other
stutterers, said, “My job was to give them confidence in their voices and let
them know that a friend was listening.” I was lucky enough to have more than a
couple of Lionels in my life. Nobody in my family ever—ever—made fun of me or
tried to finish my sentences. My mother would say, “Joey, you cannot let
stuttering define you.” And because of her and others, I made sure it
didn’t.
Through hard work and determination, I
beat my stutter in high school. I even spoke briefly at my graduation ceremony
in 1961—the most difficult speech of my life. My fight against shyness and
embarrassment at my early age has developed my ability to understand others’ feelings
as Vice President of the country in public life. I still mark up all of my
speeches the say way Firth’s character does in the movie, pencil-marking every
line to remind myself to stop, to breathe, to pause—to beat back my stuttering
as best as I can. I don’t stutter anymore, and most people who know me only
late in my life are shocked that I ever did.
By capturing exactly how a stutter feels,
The King’s Speech has shown millions of people how much courage it takes for a
stutterer to stand up and speak. Equally important, it has shown millions who
suffer from the pain that it can be overcome, we are not alone, and with the
support of those around us, our deepest fears can be conquered.
1.The writer whispered to his wife, “A stutterer wrote
this screenplay”, because __________.
A. he desired to release his secret to his wife
B. he was reminded how it was as a stutterer on such
occasions
C. he thought Colin Firth had a wonderful performance
in the film
D. he wanted to make his wife realize why the film was
so popular
2.What does the underlined sentence in Paragraph 4
imply?
A. The writer would have a good fortune to get help
from many people.
B. The writer should realize he had to stand up from
his pain and defeat it
C. The writer could get enough confidence under his
mother’s help
D. The writer must be happy that everyone in his
family did not laugh at him.
3.What message is conveyed in the passage?
A. Whatever pain and fear we have, we can defeat them
if we try hard.
B. The similar stories of the writer and King George
VI gains great admiration.
C. The suffer we had at our early age will have a
heavy influence on our future life.
D. Stuttering is such a pain for children that we
should give help and encourage them.