Directions: Read the passage and answer the question based on it.
Classicism is a broad river that has run through Western architecture for two-and-a-half millennia. A generation ago it seemed that the stream had reduced to a trickle. And yet now, if not quite in full spate, the river has recaptured a degree of vigour. What has happened, and what does the future hold?
Since this represents a revival, a word should be said on this subject at the outset. Revivals are a constant - indeed inevitable - theme of classical architecture, to the point of being almost a defining feature. Even Greek architecture, later regarded as the fons et origo of the classical system, evolved out of - and harked back to - an ancient tradition, now lost.
Every subsequent phase of classicism after the Greek period was to some extent a revival, invoking the associations of a golden age. The Romans borrowed the architectural clothes of Greece. This attitude can even be detected in the Middle Ages. To our eyes, a twelfth-century cathedral looks radically different from a Roman basilica. But the monk in the choir stall may hardly have noticed the structural distinction created by the use of pointed arches and rib vaults. Just as painters showed ancient heroes and emperors dressed in the fashions of their own day and place, so, it would seem, the architectural world had no sense of anachronism or stylistic development.
Since the Renaissance, a more scholarly approach has prevailed. Architects have been specific about the periods they were reviving. It ended with a grand battle of the styles between Renaissance-inspired classicists and morally convinced Gothicists in the nineteenth century. After that, the age of innocence was well and truly over. Recently the war against classicism has been waged by modernists rather than Gothic revivalists.
A favorite criticism made by modernist architects is that the work of the modern classicists is pastiche. They mean not that it is a hodgepodge of different styles, or an exact quotation (both of which are definitions of pastiche), but that it is derivative and revivalist. But of course their architects - respectively John Simpson and Robert A. M. Stern - are reviving certain forms that have fallen out of common usage; that's what classicists do. Indeed, it is the essence of classicism. But they are applying these forms to new purposes, and in so doing producing buildings that look quite different from those of Ancient Rome, Renaissance Florence, or the Beaux-Arts cities of the Gilded Age. This has also always happened. The Romans invented the triumphal arch; it took the Renaissance to invent the balustrade.
Classicism is now undergoing one of its periodic revivals. There are also, as I have hinted above, many classicisms to revive. The classical river was not always as pure as previous generations believed. One of the distinctive features of the revival now taking place is the weirdness of some of the precedents being quoted.
Q. "Just as painters showed ancient heroes and emperors dressed in the fashions of their own day and place, so, it would seem, the architectural world had no sense of anachronism or stylistic development." The author uses the example of "painters" in this line for which of the following purposes?
Directions: Read the passage and answer the question based on it.
Classicism is a broad river that has run through Western architecture for two-and-a-half millennia. A generation ago it seemed that the stream had reduced to a trickle. And yet now, if not quite in full spate, the river has recaptured a degree of vigour. What has happened, and what does the future hold?
Since this represents a revival, a word should be said on this subject at the outset. Revivals are a constant - indeed inevitable - theme of classical architecture, to the point of being almost a defining feature. Even Greek architecture, later regarded as the fons et origo of the classical system, evolved out of - and harked back to - an ancient tradition, now lost.
Every subsequent phase of classicism after the Greek period was to some extent a revival, invoking the associations of a golden age. The Romans borrowed the architectural clothes of Greece. This attitude can even be detected in the Middle Ages. To our eyes, a twelfth-century cathedral looks radically different from a Roman basilica. But the monk in the choir stall may hardly have noticed the structural distinction created by the use of pointed arches and rib vaults. Just as painters showed ancient heroes and emperors dressed in the fashions of their own day and place, so, it would seem, the architectural world had no sense of anachronism or stylistic development.
Since the Renaissance, a more scholarly approach has prevailed. Architects have been specific about the periods they were reviving. It ended with a grand battle of the styles between Renaissance-inspired classicists and morally convinced Gothicists in the nineteenth century. After that, the age of innocence was well and truly over. Recently the war against classicism has been waged by modernists rather than Gothic revivalists.
A favorite criticism made by modernist architects is that the work of the modern classicists is pastiche. They mean not that it is a hodgepodge of different styles, or an exact quotation (both of which are definitions of pastiche), but that it is derivative and revivalist. But of course their architects - respectively John Simpson and Robert A. M. Stern - are reviving certain forms that have fallen out of common usage; that's what classicists do. Indeed, it is the essence of classicism. But they are applying these forms to new purposes, and in so doing producing buildings that look quite different from those of Ancient Rome, Renaissance Florence, or the Beaux-Arts cities of the Gilded Age. This has also always happened. The Romans invented the triumphal arch; it took the Renaissance to invent the balustrade.
Classicism is now undergoing one of its periodic revivals. There are also, as I have hinted above, many classicisms to revive. The classical river was not always as pure as previous generations believed. One of the distinctive features of the revival now taking place is the weirdness of some of the precedents being quoted.
Q. What does the author mean by 'fons et origo' as used in the passage?
1 Crore+ students have signed up on EduRev. Have you? Download the App |
Directions: Read the passage and answer the question based on it.
Classicism is a broad river that has run through Western architecture for two-and-a-half millennia. A generation ago it seemed that the stream had reduced to a trickle. And yet now, if not quite in full spate, the river has recaptured a degree of vigour. What has happened, and what does the future hold?
Since this represents a revival, a word should be said on this subject at the outset. Revivals are a constant - indeed inevitable - theme of classical architecture, to the point of being almost a defining feature. Even Greek architecture, later regarded as the fons et origo of the classical system, evolved out of - and harked back to - an ancient tradition, now lost.
Every subsequent phase of classicism after the Greek period was to some extent a revival, invoking the associations of a golden age. The Romans borrowed the architectural clothes of Greece. This attitude can even be detected in the Middle Ages. To our eyes, a twelfth-century cathedral looks radically different from a Roman basilica. But the monk in the choir stall may hardly have noticed the structural distinction created by the use of pointed arches and rib vaults. Just as painters showed ancient heroes and emperors dressed in the fashions of their own day and place, so, it would seem, the architectural world had no sense of anachronism or stylistic development.
Since the Renaissance, a more scholarly approach has prevailed. Architects have been specific about the periods they were reviving. It ended with a grand battle of the styles between Renaissance-inspired classicists and morally convinced Gothicists in the nineteenth century. After that, the age of innocence was well and truly over. Recently the war against classicism has been waged by modernists rather than Gothic revivalists.
A favorite criticism made by modernist architects is that the work of the modern classicists is pastiche. They mean not that it is a hodgepodge of different styles, or an exact quotation (both of which are definitions of pastiche), but that it is derivative and revivalist. But of course their architects - respectively John Simpson and Robert A. M. Stern - are reviving certain forms that have fallen out of common usage; that's what classicists do. Indeed, it is the essence of classicism. But they are applying these forms to new purposes, and in so doing producing buildings that look quite different from those of Ancient Rome, Renaissance Florence, or the Beaux-Arts cities of the Gilded Age. This has also always happened. The Romans invented the triumphal arch; it took the Renaissance to invent the balustrade.
Classicism is now undergoing one of its periodic revivals. There are also, as I have hinted above, many classicisms to revive. The classical river was not always as pure as previous generations believed. One of the distinctive features of the revival now taking place is the weirdness of some of the precedents being quoted.
Q. Which of the following statements is the author of the passage most likely to agree with?
Directions: Read the passage and answer the question based on it.
Classicism is a broad river that has run through Western architecture for two-and-a-half millennia. A generation ago it seemed that the stream had reduced to a trickle. And yet now, if not quite in full spate, the river has recaptured a degree of vigour. What has happened, and what does the future hold?
Since this represents a revival, a word should be said on this subject at the outset. Revivals are a constant - indeed inevitable - theme of classical architecture, to the point of being almost a defining feature. Even Greek architecture, later regarded as the fons et origo of the classical system, evolved out of - and harked back to - an ancient tradition, now lost.
Every subsequent phase of classicism after the Greek period was to some extent a revival, invoking the associations of a golden age. The Romans borrowed the architectural clothes of Greece. This attitude can even be detected in the Middle Ages. To our eyes, a twelfth-century cathedral looks radically different from a Roman basilica. But the monk in the choir stall may hardly have noticed the structural distinction created by the use of pointed arches and rib vaults. Just as painters showed ancient heroes and emperors dressed in the fashions of their own day and place, so, it would seem, the architectural world had no sense of anachronism or stylistic development.
Since the Renaissance, a more scholarly approach has prevailed. Architects have been specific about the periods they were reviving. It ended with a grand battle of the styles between Renaissance-inspired classicists and morally convinced Gothicists in the nineteenth century. After that, the age of innocence was well and truly over. Recently the war against classicism has been waged by modernists rather than Gothic revivalists.
A favorite criticism made by modernist architects is that the work of the modern classicists is pastiche. They mean not that it is a hodgepodge of different styles, or an exact quotation (both of which are definitions of pastiche), but that it is derivative and revivalist. But of course their architects - respectively John Simpson and Robert A. M. Stern - are reviving certain forms that have fallen out of common usage; that's what classicists do. Indeed, it is the essence of classicism. But they are applying these forms to new purposes, and in so doing producing buildings that look quite different from those of Ancient Rome, Renaissance Florence, or the Beaux-Arts cities of the Gilded Age. This has also always happened. The Romans invented the triumphal arch; it took the Renaissance to invent the balustrade.
Classicism is now undergoing one of its periodic revivals. There are also, as I have hinted above, many classicisms to revive. The classical river was not always as pure as previous generations believed. One of the distinctive features of the revival now taking place is the weirdness of some of the precedents being quoted.
Q. None of the following statements can be inferred from the passage EXCEPT that:
Directions: Read the passage and answer the question based on it.
Rene Descartes arrived at certain fundamental principles that could be undoubtedly considered as true by questioning everything. In his Meditations on First Philosophy Descartes focused on the problem of distinguishing between wakefulness and dreaming. How can we say what reality is if there is the possibility that we are simply dreaming it?
The French philosopher argues that there is no reliable sign to tell when we are dreaming, and when we are in fact experiencing reality. Being deeply religious, the philosopher goes on to suggest that this might be a trick of some ''cunning demon'' who tries to deceive naive souls by leading them to believe that whatever is around them is real which, in fact, is a false assumption. The question that Descartes raised roughly four hundred years ago has puzzled me and caused me to question whether it is at all rational to doubt everything we perceive through hearing, seeing, touching, tasting, and smelling. To me, such a superfluous discretion is rather unjustified and unreasonable.
We believe what we want to believe. When we choose to believe or doubt, we do it for a reason that we might not admit to ourselves or others, but there is always a reason. Thus, when we cannot think of a reason not to trust our senses, then why should we doubt it?
It is no secret that what we believe has every chance of becoming true, even if it is not already in our perceived reality. Visualization techniques, psychological training, and gestalt therapy classes that have gained tremendous popularity in the past 20-25 years all teach us to control what we think, to focus on positive thinking, and to demolish those 'inner borders' of our conscience that tell us our dreams are impossible to achieve, our skills are limited, and our opportunities are few. Let us choose to believe the opposite, and not doubt the possibility of us being the masters of our lives, so that no 'cunning demon' can distract us with false perceptions and throw us off the right path.
I think it is against the nature of our body and mind to doubt our own senses at every point in time. We were created with the five senses for a reason, whether it was by God, by nature, or some other supernatural force. It is difficult to doubt the fact that we function the way we function, and perceive the way we perceive. Let us admit that there is information that humanity does not know, millions of discoveries are yet to be made, and much more that remains undiscovered by us. Does that make our lives pointless? I do not think so. I choose to believe that what I perceive is true and what I sense is trustworthy.
Q. According to the passage, which of the following problems did Descartes focus on in Meditations on First Philosophy?
Directions: Read the passage and answer the question based on it.
Rene Descartes arrived at certain fundamental principles that could be undoubtedly considered as true by questioning everything. In his Meditations on First Philosophy Descartes focused on the problem of distinguishing between wakefulness and dreaming. How can we say what reality is if there is the possibility that we are simply dreaming it?
The French philosopher argues that there is no reliable sign to tell when we are dreaming, and when we are in fact experiencing reality. Being deeply religious, the philosopher goes on to suggest that this might be a trick of some ''cunning demon'' who tries to deceive naive souls by leading them to believe that whatever is around them is real which, in fact, is a false assumption. The question that Descartes raised roughly four hundred years ago has puzzled me and caused me to question whether it is at all rational to doubt everything we perceive through hearing, seeing, touching, tasting, and smelling. To me, such a superfluous discretion is rather unjustified and unreasonable.
We believe what we want to believe. When we choose to believe or doubt, we do it for a reason that we might not admit to ourselves or others, but there is always a reason. Thus, when we cannot think of a reason not to trust our senses, then why should we doubt it?
It is no secret that what we believe has every chance of becoming true, even if it is not already in our perceived reality. Visualization techniques, psychological training, and gestalt therapy classes that have gained tremendous popularity in the past 20-25 years all teach us to control what we think, to focus on positive thinking, and to demolish those 'inner borders' of our conscience that tell us our dreams are impossible to achieve, our skills are limited, and our opportunities are few. Let us choose to believe the opposite, and not doubt the possibility of us being the masters of our lives, so that no 'cunning demon' can distract us with false perceptions and throw us off the right path.
I think it is against the nature of our body and mind to doubt our own senses at every point in time. We were created with the five senses for a reason, whether it was by God, by nature, or some other supernatural force. It is difficult to doubt the fact that we function the way we function, and perceive the way we perceive. Let us admit that there is information that humanity does not know, millions of discoveries are yet to be made, and much more that remains undiscovered by us. Does that make our lives pointless? I do not think so. I choose to believe that what I perceive is true and what I sense is trustworthy.
Q. Why does the author of the passage feel that Descartes' claim was "unjustified and unreasonable"?
Directions: Read the passage and answer the question based on it.
Rene Descartes arrived at certain fundamental principles that could be undoubtedly considered as true by questioning everything. In his Meditations on First Philosophy Descartes focused on the problem of distinguishing between wakefulness and dreaming. How can we say what reality is if there is the possibility that we are simply dreaming it?
The French philosopher argues that there is no reliable sign to tell when we are dreaming, and when we are in fact experiencing reality. Being deeply religious, the philosopher goes on to suggest that this might be a trick of some ''cunning demon'' who tries to deceive naive souls by leading them to believe that whatever is around them is real which, in fact, is a false assumption. The question that Descartes raised roughly four hundred years ago has puzzled me and caused me to question whether it is at all rational to doubt everything we perceive through hearing, seeing, touching, tasting, and smelling. To me, such a superfluous discretion is rather unjustified and unreasonable.
We believe what we want to believe. When we choose to believe or doubt, we do it for a reason that we might not admit to ourselves or others, but there is always a reason. Thus, when we cannot think of a reason not to trust our senses, then why should we doubt it?
It is no secret that what we believe has every chance of becoming true, even if it is not already in our perceived reality. Visualization techniques, psychological training, and gestalt therapy classes that have gained tremendous popularity in the past 20-25 years all teach us to control what we think, to focus on positive thinking, and to demolish those 'inner borders' of our conscience that tell us our dreams are impossible to achieve, our skills are limited, and our opportunities are few. Let us choose to believe the opposite, and not doubt the possibility of us being the masters of our lives, so that no 'cunning demon' can distract us with false perceptions and throw us off the right path.
I think it is against the nature of our body and mind to doubt our own senses at every point in time. We were created with the five senses for a reason, whether it was by God, by nature, or some other supernatural force. It is difficult to doubt the fact that we function the way we function, and perceive the way we perceive. Let us admit that there is information that humanity does not know, millions of discoveries are yet to be made, and much more that remains undiscovered by us. Does that make our lives pointless? I do not think so. I choose to believe that what I perceive is true and what I sense is trustworthy.
Q. The author says the following about 'inner borders' EXCEPT:
Directions: Read the passage and answer the question based on it.
Rene Descartes arrived at certain fundamental principles that could be undoubtedly considered as true by questioning everything. In his Meditations on First Philosophy Descartes focused on the problem of distinguishing between wakefulness and dreaming. How can we say what reality is if there is the possibility that we are simply dreaming it?
The French philosopher argues that there is no reliable sign to tell when we are dreaming, and when we are in fact experiencing reality. Being deeply religious, the philosopher goes on to suggest that this might be a trick of some ''cunning demon'' who tries to deceive naive souls by leading them to believe that whatever is around them is real which, in fact, is a false assumption. The question that Descartes raised roughly four hundred years ago has puzzled me and caused me to question whether it is at all rational to doubt everything we perceive through hearing, seeing, touching, tasting, and smelling. To me, such a superfluous discretion is rather unjustified and unreasonable.
We believe what we want to believe. When we choose to believe or doubt, we do it for a reason that we might not admit to ourselves or others, but there is always a reason. Thus, when we cannot think of a reason not to trust our senses, then why should we doubt it?
It is no secret that what we believe has every chance of becoming true, even if it is not already in our perceived reality. Visualization techniques, psychological training, and gestalt therapy classes that have gained tremendous popularity in the past 20-25 years all teach us to control what we think, to focus on positive thinking, and to demolish those 'inner borders' of our conscience that tell us our dreams are impossible to achieve, our skills are limited, and our opportunities are few. Let us choose to believe the opposite, and not doubt the possibility of us being the masters of our lives, so that no 'cunning demon' can distract us with false perceptions and throw us off the right path.
I think it is against the nature of our body and mind to doubt our own senses at every point in time. We were created with the five senses for a reason, whether it was by God, by nature, or some other supernatural force. It is difficult to doubt the fact that we function the way we function, and perceive the way we perceive. Let us admit that there is information that humanity does not know, millions of discoveries are yet to be made, and much more that remains undiscovered by us. Does that make our lives pointless? I do not think so. I choose to believe that what I perceive is true and what I sense is trustworthy.
Q. Which one of the following statements best describes the crux of the passage?
Directions: Read the passage and answer the question based on it.
Among the cryptic stories everyone knows since childhood, the myth of Atlantis is probably one of the most thrilling and mysterious ones. The idea of a huge continent lying underwater, once inhabited by a supposedly ingenious civilisation is intriguing on its own, and the numerous hints and clues that Atlantis was a real place make archaeologists, historians, and adventurers across the globe seek for its remains with enviable enthusiasm. Still, the myth of Atlantis is controversial and debated, and there are numerous theories regarding where it was located, which people inhabited it, and why this civilisation disappeared.
Before the 19th century, Atlantis was more of a myth romantic seekers of truth tried to prove; however, in 1882, Ignatius Donnelly published a book titled ''Atlantis, the Antediluvian'' World; in this manuscript, he proved that Atlantis was not a mere legend crafted by Plato, but could be a historical reality. Donnelly believed there must have been an incredibly advanced ancient civilisation that invented metallurgy, agriculture, astronomy, and so on, and from which other, less sophisticated civilisations must have had inherited knowledge and technologies. He also believed that Atlantis was located right where Plato described: near the Pillars of Hercules by the Straits of Gibraltar; the Atlantic Ocean's ''shifting waters,'' as he called it, sank the continent on which Atlantis was located. Continental plate tectonics shows that Donnelly's theory is incorrect, but it happened to be extremely tenacious, so even nowadays many people believed Atlantis to have existed right where Plato said it did. This theory also inspired other people to start looking for Atlantis, spawning dozens of newer speculations. One of them belongs to Charles Berlitz, an author who mostly wrote about various paranormal phenomena. Berlitz claimed that Atlantis sank in the infamous Bermuda Triangle. Obviously, none of these theories stands up to criticism, but they still remain popular.
A more realistic explanation of the emergence of the image of Atlantis is offered by a professor of classics at Bard College in Annandale, James Romm. He believes that Atlantis was a metaphor introduced by Plato to illustrate his philosophical concepts. Romm says that Plato ''was dealing with a number of issues, themes that run throughout his work. The myth about Atlantis could be an illustration of Plato's ideas about a utopian state. Besides, there is more proof that Atlantis must have been a metaphor rather than a historic reality.
So far, it is still not clear whether Atlantis existed or not. Romantics believe it did, continuing to invent new theories, clinging to a few unreliable theories introduced in the past; modern science, however - oceanography, in particular - proves them wrong. The most credible explanation of Atlantis is that it must have been Plato's metaphor illustrating his philosophical concepts; advocating a utopian society. Plato described a prosperous civilisation which fell the victim of its own greediness, immorality, and corruption; in this regard, the legend of Atlantis makes perfect sense.
Q. According to the passage, which of the following did Donnelly suggest about Atlantis in his book?
Directions: Read the passage and answer the question based on it.
Among the cryptic stories everyone knows since childhood, the myth of Atlantis is probably one of the most thrilling and mysterious ones. The idea of a huge continent lying underwater, once inhabited by a supposedly ingenious civilisation is intriguing on its own, and the numerous hints and clues that Atlantis was a real place make archaeologists, historians, and adventurers across the globe seek for its remains with enviable enthusiasm. Still, the myth of Atlantis is controversial and debated, and there are numerous theories regarding where it was located, which people inhabited it, and why this civilisation disappeared.
Before the 19th century, Atlantis was more of a myth romantic seekers of truth tried to prove; however, in 1882, Ignatius Donnelly published a book titled ''Atlantis, the Antediluvian'' World; in this manuscript, he proved that Atlantis was not a mere legend crafted by Plato, but could be a historical reality. Donnelly believed there must have been an incredibly advanced ancient civilisation that invented metallurgy, agriculture, astronomy, and so on, and from which other, less sophisticated civilisations must have had inherited knowledge and technologies. He also believed that Atlantis was located right where Plato described: near the Pillars of Hercules by the Straits of Gibraltar; the Atlantic Ocean's ''shifting waters,'' as he called it, sank the continent on which Atlantis was located. Continental plate tectonics shows that Donnelly's theory is incorrect, but it happened to be extremely tenacious, so even nowadays many people believed Atlantis to have existed right where Plato said it did. This theory also inspired other people to start looking for Atlantis, spawning dozens of newer speculations. One of them belongs to Charles Berlitz, an author who mostly wrote about various paranormal phenomena. Berlitz claimed that Atlantis sank in the infamous Bermuda Triangle. Obviously, none of these theories stands up to criticism, but they still remain popular.
A more realistic explanation of the emergence of the image of Atlantis is offered by a professor of classics at Bard College in Annandale, James Romm. He believes that Atlantis was a metaphor introduced by Plato to illustrate his philosophical concepts. Romm says that Plato ''was dealing with a number of issues, themes that run throughout his work. The myth about Atlantis could be an illustration of Plato's ideas about a utopian state. Besides, there is more proof that Atlantis must have been a metaphor rather than a historic reality.
So far, it is still not clear whether Atlantis existed or not. Romantics believe it did, continuing to invent new theories, clinging to a few unreliable theories introduced in the past; modern science, however - oceanography, in particular - proves them wrong. The most credible explanation of Atlantis is that it must have been Plato's metaphor illustrating his philosophical concepts; advocating a utopian society. Plato described a prosperous civilisation which fell the victim of its own greediness, immorality, and corruption; in this regard, the legend of Atlantis makes perfect sense.
Q. According to the passage, which of the following statements is closest to Berlitz's claim about Atlantis?
Directions: Read the passage and answer the question based on it.
Among the cryptic stories everyone knows since childhood, the myth of Atlantis is probably one of the most thrilling and mysterious ones. The idea of a huge continent lying underwater, once inhabited by a supposedly ingenious civilisation is intriguing on its own, and the numerous hints and clues that Atlantis was a real place make archaeologists, historians, and adventurers across the globe seek for its remains with enviable enthusiasm. Still, the myth of Atlantis is controversial and debated, and there are numerous theories regarding where it was located, which people inhabited it, and why this civilisation disappeared.
Before the 19th century, Atlantis was more of a myth romantic seekers of truth tried to prove; however, in 1882, Ignatius Donnelly published a book titled ''Atlantis, the Antediluvian'' World; in this manuscript, he proved that Atlantis was not a mere legend crafted by Plato, but could be a historical reality. Donnelly believed there must have been an incredibly advanced ancient civilisation that invented metallurgy, agriculture, astronomy, and so on, and from which other, less sophisticated civilisations must have had inherited knowledge and technologies. He also believed that Atlantis was located right where Plato described: near the Pillars of Hercules by the Straits of Gibraltar; the Atlantic Ocean's ''shifting waters,'' as he called it, sank the continent on which Atlantis was located. Continental plate tectonics shows that Donnelly's theory is incorrect, but it happened to be extremely tenacious, so even nowadays many people believed Atlantis to have existed right where Plato said it did. This theory also inspired other people to start looking for Atlantis, spawning dozens of newer speculations. One of them belongs to Charles Berlitz, an author who mostly wrote about various paranormal phenomena. Berlitz claimed that Atlantis sank in the infamous Bermuda Triangle. Obviously, none of these theories stands up to criticism, but they still remain popular.
A more realistic explanation of the emergence of the image of Atlantis is offered by a professor of classics at Bard College in Annandale, James Romm. He believes that Atlantis was a metaphor introduced by Plato to illustrate his philosophical concepts. Romm says that Plato ''was dealing with a number of issues, themes that run throughout his work. The myth about Atlantis could be an illustration of Plato's ideas about a utopian state. Besides, there is more proof that Atlantis must have been a metaphor rather than a historic reality.
So far, it is still not clear whether Atlantis existed or not. Romantics believe it did, continuing to invent new theories, clinging to a few unreliable theories introduced in the past; modern science, however - oceanography, in particular - proves them wrong. The most credible explanation of Atlantis is that it must have been Plato's metaphor illustrating his philosophical concepts; advocating a utopian society. Plato described a prosperous civilisation which fell the victim of its own greediness, immorality, and corruption; in this regard, the legend of Atlantis makes perfect sense.
Q. On the basis of the information provided in the passage, in which of the following ways was James Romm's theory different from that of Ignatius Donnelly?
Directions: Read the passage and answer the question based on it.
Among the cryptic stories everyone knows since childhood, the myth of Atlantis is probably one of the most thrilling and mysterious ones. The idea of a huge continent lying underwater, once inhabited by a supposedly ingenious civilisation is intriguing on its own, and the numerous hints and clues that Atlantis was a real place make archaeologists, historians, and adventurers across the globe seek for its remains with enviable enthusiasm. Still, the myth of Atlantis is controversial and debated, and there are numerous theories regarding where it was located, which people inhabited it, and why this civilisation disappeared.
Before the 19th century, Atlantis was more of a myth romantic seekers of truth tried to prove; however, in 1882, Ignatius Donnelly published a book titled ''Atlantis, the Antediluvian'' World; in this manuscript, he proved that Atlantis was not a mere legend crafted by Plato, but could be a historical reality. Donnelly believed there must have been an incredibly advanced ancient civilisation that invented metallurgy, agriculture, astronomy, and so on, and from which other, less sophisticated civilisations must have had inherited knowledge and technologies. He also believed that Atlantis was located right where Plato described: near the Pillars of Hercules by the Straits of Gibraltar; the Atlantic Ocean's ''shifting waters,'' as he called it, sank the continent on which Atlantis was located. Continental plate tectonics shows that Donnelly's theory is incorrect, but it happened to be extremely tenacious, so even nowadays many people believed Atlantis to have existed right where Plato said it did. This theory also inspired other people to start looking for Atlantis, spawning dozens of newer speculations. One of them belongs to Charles Berlitz, an author who mostly wrote about various paranormal phenomena. Berlitz claimed that Atlantis sank in the infamous Bermuda Triangle. Obviously, none of these theories stands up to criticism, but they still remain popular.
A more realistic explanation of the emergence of the image of Atlantis is offered by a professor of classics at Bard College in Annandale, James Romm. He believes that Atlantis was a metaphor introduced by Plato to illustrate his philosophical concepts. Romm says that Plato ''was dealing with a number of issues, themes that run throughout his work. The myth about Atlantis could be an illustration of Plato's ideas about a utopian state. Besides, there is more proof that Atlantis must have been a metaphor rather than a historic reality.
So far, it is still not clear whether Atlantis existed or not. Romantics believe it did, continuing to invent new theories, clinging to a few unreliable theories introduced in the past; modern science, however - oceanography, in particular - proves them wrong. The most credible explanation of Atlantis is that it must have been Plato's metaphor illustrating his philosophical concepts; advocating a utopian society. Plato described a prosperous civilisation which fell the victim of its own greediness, immorality, and corruption; in this regard, the legend of Atlantis makes perfect sense.
Q. Which of the following options best summarises the main idea of the passage?
Directions: Answer the given question based on the following passage.
Form in the textile art, as in all other useful arts, is fundamentally, although not exclusively, the resultant or expression of function, but at the same time it is further than in other shaping arts from expressing the whole of function. Such is the pliability of a large portion of textile products - as, for example, nets, garments, and hangings - that the shapes assumed are variable, and, therefore, when not distended or for some purpose folded or draped, the articles are without aesthetic value or interest. The more rigid objects of other useful arts, while their shape still accords with their functional office, exhibit attributes of form generally recognised as pleasing to the mind, which are expressed by the terms grace, elegance, symmetry, and the like. Such attributes are not separable from functional attributes, but originate and exist conjointly with them. In addition to these features of form we observe others of a more decidedly super functional character, added manifestly for the purpose of enhancing the appearance.
In very primitive times when a utensil is produced functional ideas predominate, and there is, perhaps, so far as its artificial characters are concerned, a minimum of comeliness. But as the ages pass by, essential features are refined and elements of beauty are added and emphasized. In riper culture the growing pressure of aesthetic desire leads to the addition of many superficial modifications whose chief office is to please the fancy. In respect to primitive works we may distinguish four steps in the acquisition of aesthetic features of form, three of which are normal, the fourth abnormal: First, we have that in which functional characters alone are considered, any element of beauty, whether due to the artist's hand or to the accidents of material, construction, or model, being purely adventitious; second, that in which the necessary features of the utensil appear to have experienced the supervision of taste, edges being rounded, curves refined, and symmetry perfected; third, that in which the functionally perfect object, just described, undergoes further variations of contour, adding to variety and unity, thus enhancing beauty without interfering with serviceability; and, fourth, that in which, under abnormal influences, beauty is sought at the sacrifice of functional and constructive perfection.
The exact relations of the various classes of forces and phenomena may be more fully elucidated by the aid of illustrations. Woven mats, in early use by many tribes of men and originating in the attempt to combine leaves, vines, and branches for purposes of comfort, are flat because of function, the degree of flatness depending upon the size of filaments and mode of combination; and in outline they are irregular, square, round, or oval, as a result of many causes and influences, embracing use, construction, material, models. The varied features observed upon the surface, the colors and patterns, pertain to design rather than to form and will receive attention in the proper place.
Q. According to the passage, which of the following attributes enhance the prestige of textile art?
Directions: Answer the given question based on the following passage.
Form in the textile art, as in all other useful arts, is fundamentally, although not exclusively, the resultant or expression of function, but at the same time it is further than in other shaping arts from expressing the whole of function. Such is the pliability of a large portion of textile products - as, for example, nets, garments, and hangings - that the shapes assumed are variable, and, therefore, when not distended or for some purpose folded or draped, the articles are without aesthetic value or interest. The more rigid objects of other useful arts, while their shape still accords with their functional office, exhibit attributes of form generally recognised as pleasing to the mind, which are expressed by the terms grace, elegance, symmetry, and the like. Such attributes are not separable from functional attributes, but originate and exist conjointly with them. In addition to these features of form we observe others of a more decidedly super functional character, added manifestly for the purpose of enhancing the appearance.
In very primitive times when a utensil is produced functional ideas predominate, and there is, perhaps, so far as its artificial characters are concerned, a minimum of comeliness. But as the ages pass by, essential features are refined and elements of beauty are added and emphasized. In riper culture the growing pressure of aesthetic desire leads to the addition of many superficial modifications whose chief office is to please the fancy. In respect to primitive works we may distinguish four steps in the acquisition of aesthetic features of form, three of which are normal, the fourth abnormal: First, we have that in which functional characters alone are considered, any element of beauty, whether due to the artist's hand or to the accidents of material, construction, or model, being purely adventitious; second, that in which the necessary features of the utensil appear to have experienced the supervision of taste, edges being rounded, curves refined, and symmetry perfected; third, that in which the functionally perfect object, just described, undergoes further variations of contour, adding to variety and unity, thus enhancing beauty without interfering with serviceability; and, fourth, that in which, under abnormal influences, beauty is sought at the sacrifice of functional and constructive perfection.
The exact relations of the various classes of forces and phenomena may be more fully elucidated by the aid of illustrations. Woven mats, in early use by many tribes of men and originating in the attempt to combine leaves, vines, and branches for purposes of comfort, are flat because of function, the degree of flatness depending upon the size of filaments and mode of combination; and in outline they are irregular, square, round, or oval, as a result of many causes and influences, embracing use, construction, material, models. The varied features observed upon the surface, the colors and patterns, pertain to design rather than to form and will receive attention in the proper place.
Q. Which one of the following statements best describes how art is dominated by sensibility?
Directions: Answer the given question based on the following passage.
Form in the textile art, as in all other useful arts, is fundamentally, although not exclusively, the resultant or expression of function, but at the same time it is further than in other shaping arts from expressing the whole of function. Such is the pliability of a large portion of textile products - as, for example, nets, garments, and hangings - that the shapes assumed are variable, and, therefore, when not distended or for some purpose folded or draped, the articles are without aesthetic value or interest. The more rigid objects of other useful arts, while their shape still accords with their functional office, exhibit attributes of form generally recognised as pleasing to the mind, which are expressed by the terms grace, elegance, symmetry, and the like. Such attributes are not separable from functional attributes, but originate and exist conjointly with them. In addition to these features of form we observe others of a more decidedly super functional character, added manifestly for the purpose of enhancing the appearance.
In very primitive times when a utensil is produced functional ideas predominate, and there is, perhaps, so far as its artificial characters are concerned, a minimum of comeliness. But as the ages pass by, essential features are refined and elements of beauty are added and emphasized. In riper culture the growing pressure of aesthetic desire leads to the addition of many superficial modifications whose chief office is to please the fancy. In respect to primitive works we may distinguish four steps in the acquisition of aesthetic features of form, three of which are normal, the fourth abnormal: First, we have that in which functional characters alone are considered, any element of beauty, whether due to the artist's hand or to the accidents of material, construction, or model, being purely adventitious; second, that in which the necessary features of the utensil appear to have experienced the supervision of taste, edges being rounded, curves refined, and symmetry perfected; third, that in which the functionally perfect object, just described, undergoes further variations of contour, adding to variety and unity, thus enhancing beauty without interfering with serviceability; and, fourth, that in which, under abnormal influences, beauty is sought at the sacrifice of functional and constructive perfection.
The exact relations of the various classes of forces and phenomena may be more fully elucidated by the aid of illustrations. Woven mats, in early use by many tribes of men and originating in the attempt to combine leaves, vines, and branches for purposes of comfort, are flat because of function, the degree of flatness depending upon the size of filaments and mode of combination; and in outline they are irregular, square, round, or oval, as a result of many causes and influences, embracing use, construction, material, models. The varied features observed upon the surface, the colors and patterns, pertain to design rather than to form and will receive attention in the proper place.
Q. Which one of the following best describes the central idea of the passage?
Directions: Answer the given question based on the following passage.
Form in the textile art, as in all other useful arts, is fundamentally, although not exclusively, the resultant or expression of function, but at the same time it is further than in other shaping arts from expressing the whole of function. Such is the pliability of a large portion of textile products - as, for example, nets, garments, and hangings - that the shapes assumed are variable, and, therefore, when not distended or for some purpose folded or draped, the articles are without aesthetic value or interest. The more rigid objects of other useful arts, while their shape still accords with their functional office, exhibit attributes of form generally recognised as pleasing to the mind, which are expressed by the terms grace, elegance, symmetry, and the like. Such attributes are not separable from functional attributes, but originate and exist conjointly with them. In addition to these features of form we observe others of a more decidedly super functional character, added manifestly for the purpose of enhancing the appearance.
In very primitive times when a utensil is produced functional ideas predominate, and there is, perhaps, so far as its artificial characters are concerned, a minimum of comeliness. But as the ages pass by, essential features are refined and elements of beauty are added and emphasized. In riper culture the growing pressure of aesthetic desire leads to the addition of many superficial modifications whose chief office is to please the fancy. In respect to primitive works we may distinguish four steps in the acquisition of aesthetic features of form, three of which are normal, the fourth abnormal: First, we have that in which functional characters alone are considered, any element of beauty, whether due to the artist's hand or to the accidents of material, construction, or model, being purely adventitious; second, that in which the necessary features of the utensil appear to have experienced the supervision of taste, edges being rounded, curves refined, and symmetry perfected; third, that in which the functionally perfect object, just described, undergoes further variations of contour, adding to variety and unity, thus enhancing beauty without interfering with serviceability; and, fourth, that in which, under abnormal influences, beauty is sought at the sacrifice of functional and constructive perfection.
The exact relations of the various classes of forces and phenomena may be more fully elucidated by the aid of illustrations. Woven mats, in early use by many tribes of men and originating in the attempt to combine leaves, vines, and branches for purposes of comfort, are flat because of function, the degree of flatness depending upon the size of filaments and mode of combination; and in outline they are irregular, square, round, or oval, as a result of many causes and influences, embracing use, construction, material, models. The varied features observed upon the surface, the colors and patterns, pertain to design rather than to form and will receive attention in the proper place.
Q. Which of the following best states why the author considers textile products more pliable than other works of art?