ACT QuizBank
Questions 1-10 of 10 | 10:00
Top of Form
HUMANITIES: This passage is adapted
from a collection of essays on family and memory.
I met my grandfather only once, and I was far
too young for our meeting to make any real impression
5
on me. When you're three years old, you know
your immediate family, but outside that close
orbit, there is an anonymous nebula of adults
you've met once or twice and who then slip out
of your developing memory. In some families,
10
grandparents are part of that close orbit, but
in my case, my grandparents were roughly five
thousand miles and one ocean removed from my
daily life in Ronkonkoma, New York. So I'm sorry
to say that, though I did meet him, my grandfather
15
was unfortunately consigned to that nebula of
vague, half-remembered adults, along with one-off
babysitters and the pediatrician who used to
treat my earaches.
There were always plenty of photos of grandfather
20
around the house, shots of him on the deck of
the small family skiff, on the farm in Aalborg,
or traveling with my grandmother. But when I
saw these photos, on the wall or in albums, they
were just images. They didn't remind me of my
25
grandfather himself, they only reminded me of
other photos I had seen of him or of stories
I had heard about him. He had been a civil architect,
a planner of public works. During World War II,
he had fought with the resistance, sabotaging
30
railroads and shipyards when his country had
been occupied. When the war ended, when it was
time for his country to rebuild, he returned
to his trade and drew up plans for new train
stations and ports. These were the sort of stories
35
I heard about him: they were large scale, imposing
as a courthouse or a cathedral. But none of them
meant as much to me as the memories I had of
my grandmother. Not that these were anything
so thrilling, just memories of trips to Dyrehavsbakken,
40
the deer garden built by Christian IV, or playing
with the model trains in her basement. But they
did have the advantage of being stories I'd
lived instead of stories I'd been told.
We'd visited the Danish family often when I was
45
young. Once when my grandfather was alive, and
about once a year after that, alternating between
summers and Christmastime. The visits tapered
off when I turned seven, in no small part because
of my grandmother's death. They were distant
50
relatives, in every sense of the word. By the
time middle school rolled into high school, I
had friends in Ronkonkoma and better things to
do with my vacations. And then I was out of the
house and in college, working part time and spending
55
the other part studying. There was plenty to
keep me busy and I rarely thought of grandfather
or my father's half of the family. That changed
when I got a letter from my cousin Peter. He
was getting married and I was invited, under
60
my own recognizance, to visit the aunts and uncles
and cousins. It would be the first time I'd
visit the family since grade school; for the
first time, I'd be more than the latest addition
to the family, the new little person to be carried
65
across the ocean and displayed to the grandparents.
There would even be a guest room waiting for
me in the Nyhavn townhouse where my grandparents
had retired, the one with the model trains in
the basement and the ranks of family photographs
70
marching up the staircases, the one decorated
with odds and ends gathered during my grandparents'
late-life globetrotting, the one with a kitchen
laid out like a ship's galley and candle-smoked
paintings on the dining room ceiling.
75
The Danes have a word for places like my grandparents'
house: hygge. It means something like "cozy,"
but there's more to it. There's a sense of
belonging implied by hygge. It's like
the feeling of spending a snowy afternoon around
80
the fireplace with friends and family. Or like
the sort of American Thanksgiving where everyone
crowds in the kitchen to take part in the cooking.
On either side of the ocean, there's usually
down-home cooking involved in creating a sense
85
of hygge (though the Danes prefer flæskesteg
and æblekage to turkey and pie).
In my grandparents' house, however, the sense
of hygge came from the atmosphere alone,
the lived-in quality of the place.
90
It wasn't until I returned to Copenhagen for
Peter's wedding that I realized that I knew
a lot more about my grandfather than I thought
I did. I had heard all of the grand stories of
his adventures in and after the war, but I also
95
knew a lot of the little details that had seeped
in gradually, osmotically, over the time that
I had spent sitting in his living room, where
the sense of hygge he had so painstakingly
crafted outlived him by so many years.
1.
The first paragraph suggests that, in regards to memories of the grandfather, the narrator feels:
thoroughly satisfied.
somewhat regretful.
a sense of belonging.
full of pride.
2.
It can be assumed that "flæskesteg and æblekage" mentioned in paragraph 4 are:
styles of houses.
necessary for hygge.
types of food.
Danish holidays.
3.
It can be inferred from the end of the second paragraph that the narrator believes time spent with family:
is more important than epic achievements.
is not appreciated by young children.
contributes to a sense of hygge.
presents an opportunity to learn about the past.
4.
The second paragraph most strongly suggests that the narrator would liken the grandfather to:
a second father.
a stern disciplinarian.
a figure in a history book.
a heroic role model.
5.
The narrator stopped visiting the Danish family:
because college demanded too much time.
when the family sold the Aalborg farm.
because fear of flying made travel difficult.
after the death of the grandmother.
6.
Which of the following best describes the narrator's tone when recalling the grandfather in the passage's first paragraph?
Joyous
Confused
Nostalgic
Aloof
7.
Before returning to the grandparent's house, the narrator describes the relationship with the Danish family as:
warm.
strained.
distant.
cozy.
8.
The author compares the grandfather's history to "a courthouse or a cathedral" (paragraph 2) to illustrate:
the beautiful architecture of Denmark.
how much larger than life the grandfather seemed.
the importance of justice and religion to the grandfather.
the types of buildings the grandfather designed in Aalborg.
9.
According to the passage, the narrator first becomes aware of a deeper connection with the grandfather:
during grade school vacations.
upon hearing stories of the grandfather's life.
the first time they meet.
while staying in the grandparents' house.
10.
The author claims to value memories of the grandmother because:
her farm in Aalborg was very scenic.
she lived closer to Ronkonkoma.
she led a very exciting life.
memories of her came from firsthand experiences.
Bottom of Form