Questões de Concurso Militar PM-PR 2013 para Aspirante da Policial Militar
Foram encontradas 8 questões
Q603443
Inglês
Texto associado
Reading the world in 196 books
By Ann Morgan (Photo: Darren Russell) – BBC - 15 July 2013
I used to think of myself as a fairly cosmopolitan sort of person, but
my bookshelves told a different story. Apart from a few Indian novels
and the odd Australian and South African book, my literature
collection consisted of British and American titles. Worse still, I hardly
ever tackled anything in translation. My reading was confined to
stories by English-speaking authors.
So, at the start of 2012, I set myself the challenge of trying to read a book from every country (well, all 195 United Nations (UN) recognised states plus former UN member Taiwan) in a year to find out what I was missing. With no idea how to go about this beyond a sneaking suspicion that I was unlikely to find publications from nearly 200 nations on the shelves of my local bookshop, I decided to ask the planet’s readers for help. I created a blog called A Year of Reading the World and put out an appeal for suggestions of titles that I could read in English.
So, at the start of 2012, I set myself the challenge of trying to read a book from every country (well, all 195 United Nations (UN) recognised states plus former UN member Taiwan) in a year to find out what I was missing. With no idea how to go about this beyond a sneaking suspicion that I was unlikely to find publications from nearly 200 nations on the shelves of my local bookshop, I decided to ask the planet’s readers for help. I created a blog called A Year of Reading the World and put out an appeal for suggestions of titles that I could read in English.
The response was amazing. Before I knew it, people all over the planet were getting in touch with ideas and offers of help. Some posted
me books from their home countries. Others did hours of research on my behalf. In addition, several writers, like Turkmenistan’s Ak
Welsapar and Panama’s Juan David Morgan, sent me unpublished translations of their novels, giving me a rare opportunity to read works
otherwise unavailable to the 62% of Brits who only speak English. Even with such an extraordinary team of bibliophiles behind me,
however, sourcing books was no easy task. For a start, with translations making up only around 4.5 per cent of literary works published
in the UK and Ireland, getting English versions of stories was tricky.
But the effort was worth it. As I made my way through the planet’s literary landscapes, extraordinary things started to happen. In the hands of gifted writers, I discovered bookpacking offered something a physical traveller could hope to experience only rarely: it took me inside the thoughts of individuals living far away and showed me the world through their eyes. More powerful than a thousand news reports, these stories not only opened my mind to the nuts and bolts of life in other places, but opened my heart to the way people there might feel.
And that in turn changed my thinking. Through reading the stories shared with me by bookish strangers around the globe, I realised I was not an isolated person, but part of a network that stretched all over the planet. One by one, the country names on the list that had begun as an intellectual exercise at the start of the year transformed into vital, vibrant places filled with laughter, love, anger, hope and fear. Lands that had once seemed exotic and remote became close and familiar to me – places I could identify with. At its best, I learned, fiction makes the world real.
But the effort was worth it. As I made my way through the planet’s literary landscapes, extraordinary things started to happen. In the hands of gifted writers, I discovered bookpacking offered something a physical traveller could hope to experience only rarely: it took me inside the thoughts of individuals living far away and showed me the world through their eyes. More powerful than a thousand news reports, these stories not only opened my mind to the nuts and bolts of life in other places, but opened my heart to the way people there might feel.
And that in turn changed my thinking. Through reading the stories shared with me by bookish strangers around the globe, I realised I was not an isolated person, but part of a network that stretched all over the planet. One by one, the country names on the list that had begun as an intellectual exercise at the start of the year transformed into vital, vibrant places filled with laughter, love, anger, hope and fear. Lands that had once seemed exotic and remote became close and familiar to me – places I could identify with. At its best, I learned, fiction makes the world real.
(adapted from <http://www.bbc.com/culture/story/20130715-reading-the-world-in-365-days>)
According to the text, before her experience with the blog the author used to think of herself as a cosmopolitan person.
However, she realised that:
Q603444
Inglês
Texto associado
Reading the world in 196 books
By Ann Morgan (Photo: Darren Russell) – BBC - 15 July 2013
I used to think of myself as a fairly cosmopolitan sort of person, but
my bookshelves told a different story. Apart from a few Indian novels
and the odd Australian and South African book, my literature
collection consisted of British and American titles. Worse still, I hardly
ever tackled anything in translation. My reading was confined to
stories by English-speaking authors.
So, at the start of 2012, I set myself the challenge of trying to read a book from every country (well, all 195 United Nations (UN) recognised states plus former UN member Taiwan) in a year to find out what I was missing. With no idea how to go about this beyond a sneaking suspicion that I was unlikely to find publications from nearly 200 nations on the shelves of my local bookshop, I decided to ask the planet’s readers for help. I created a blog called A Year of Reading the World and put out an appeal for suggestions of titles that I could read in English.
So, at the start of 2012, I set myself the challenge of trying to read a book from every country (well, all 195 United Nations (UN) recognised states plus former UN member Taiwan) in a year to find out what I was missing. With no idea how to go about this beyond a sneaking suspicion that I was unlikely to find publications from nearly 200 nations on the shelves of my local bookshop, I decided to ask the planet’s readers for help. I created a blog called A Year of Reading the World and put out an appeal for suggestions of titles that I could read in English.
The response was amazing. Before I knew it, people all over the planet were getting in touch with ideas and offers of help. Some posted
me books from their home countries. Others did hours of research on my behalf. In addition, several writers, like Turkmenistan’s Ak
Welsapar and Panama’s Juan David Morgan, sent me unpublished translations of their novels, giving me a rare opportunity to read works
otherwise unavailable to the 62% of Brits who only speak English. Even with such an extraordinary team of bibliophiles behind me,
however, sourcing books was no easy task. For a start, with translations making up only around 4.5 per cent of literary works published
in the UK and Ireland, getting English versions of stories was tricky.
But the effort was worth it. As I made my way through the planet’s literary landscapes, extraordinary things started to happen. In the hands of gifted writers, I discovered bookpacking offered something a physical traveller could hope to experience only rarely: it took me inside the thoughts of individuals living far away and showed me the world through their eyes. More powerful than a thousand news reports, these stories not only opened my mind to the nuts and bolts of life in other places, but opened my heart to the way people there might feel.
And that in turn changed my thinking. Through reading the stories shared with me by bookish strangers around the globe, I realised I was not an isolated person, but part of a network that stretched all over the planet. One by one, the country names on the list that had begun as an intellectual exercise at the start of the year transformed into vital, vibrant places filled with laughter, love, anger, hope and fear. Lands that had once seemed exotic and remote became close and familiar to me – places I could identify with. At its best, I learned, fiction makes the world real.
But the effort was worth it. As I made my way through the planet’s literary landscapes, extraordinary things started to happen. In the hands of gifted writers, I discovered bookpacking offered something a physical traveller could hope to experience only rarely: it took me inside the thoughts of individuals living far away and showed me the world through their eyes. More powerful than a thousand news reports, these stories not only opened my mind to the nuts and bolts of life in other places, but opened my heart to the way people there might feel.
And that in turn changed my thinking. Through reading the stories shared with me by bookish strangers around the globe, I realised I was not an isolated person, but part of a network that stretched all over the planet. One by one, the country names on the list that had begun as an intellectual exercise at the start of the year transformed into vital, vibrant places filled with laughter, love, anger, hope and fear. Lands that had once seemed exotic and remote became close and familiar to me – places I could identify with. At its best, I learned, fiction makes the world real.
(adapted from <http://www.bbc.com/culture/story/20130715-reading-the-world-in-365-days>)
Identify the statements below about Ann Morgan as true (T) or false (F), according to the text.
( ) She decided to read nearly 200 books in a year, which included all the UN-recognized countries.
( ) She was sure she could find all the books she wanted to read at the local bookstore.
( ) She felt that she was missing something by not having read foreign publications.
( ) She created a blog to ask for suggestions of books she could read in English.
( ) She decided not to read a book from Taiwan because it was a former UN member.
Mark the alternative which presents the correct sequence, from top to bottom.
( ) She decided to read nearly 200 books in a year, which included all the UN-recognized countries.
( ) She was sure she could find all the books she wanted to read at the local bookstore.
( ) She felt that she was missing something by not having read foreign publications.
( ) She created a blog to ask for suggestions of books she could read in English.
( ) She decided not to read a book from Taiwan because it was a former UN member.
Mark the alternative which presents the correct sequence, from top to bottom.
Q603445
Inglês
Texto associado
Reading the world in 196 books
By Ann Morgan (Photo: Darren Russell) – BBC - 15 July 2013
I used to think of myself as a fairly cosmopolitan sort of person, but
my bookshelves told a different story. Apart from a few Indian novels
and the odd Australian and South African book, my literature
collection consisted of British and American titles. Worse still, I hardly
ever tackled anything in translation. My reading was confined to
stories by English-speaking authors.
So, at the start of 2012, I set myself the challenge of trying to read a book from every country (well, all 195 United Nations (UN) recognised states plus former UN member Taiwan) in a year to find out what I was missing. With no idea how to go about this beyond a sneaking suspicion that I was unlikely to find publications from nearly 200 nations on the shelves of my local bookshop, I decided to ask the planet’s readers for help. I created a blog called A Year of Reading the World and put out an appeal for suggestions of titles that I could read in English.
So, at the start of 2012, I set myself the challenge of trying to read a book from every country (well, all 195 United Nations (UN) recognised states plus former UN member Taiwan) in a year to find out what I was missing. With no idea how to go about this beyond a sneaking suspicion that I was unlikely to find publications from nearly 200 nations on the shelves of my local bookshop, I decided to ask the planet’s readers for help. I created a blog called A Year of Reading the World and put out an appeal for suggestions of titles that I could read in English.
The response was amazing. Before I knew it, people all over the planet were getting in touch with ideas and offers of help. Some posted
me books from their home countries. Others did hours of research on my behalf. In addition, several writers, like Turkmenistan’s Ak
Welsapar and Panama’s Juan David Morgan, sent me unpublished translations of their novels, giving me a rare opportunity to read works
otherwise unavailable to the 62% of Brits who only speak English. Even with such an extraordinary team of bibliophiles behind me,
however, sourcing books was no easy task. For a start, with translations making up only around 4.5 per cent of literary works published
in the UK and Ireland, getting English versions of stories was tricky.
But the effort was worth it. As I made my way through the planet’s literary landscapes, extraordinary things started to happen. In the hands of gifted writers, I discovered bookpacking offered something a physical traveller could hope to experience only rarely: it took me inside the thoughts of individuals living far away and showed me the world through their eyes. More powerful than a thousand news reports, these stories not only opened my mind to the nuts and bolts of life in other places, but opened my heart to the way people there might feel.
And that in turn changed my thinking. Through reading the stories shared with me by bookish strangers around the globe, I realised I was not an isolated person, but part of a network that stretched all over the planet. One by one, the country names on the list that had begun as an intellectual exercise at the start of the year transformed into vital, vibrant places filled with laughter, love, anger, hope and fear. Lands that had once seemed exotic and remote became close and familiar to me – places I could identify with. At its best, I learned, fiction makes the world real.
But the effort was worth it. As I made my way through the planet’s literary landscapes, extraordinary things started to happen. In the hands of gifted writers, I discovered bookpacking offered something a physical traveller could hope to experience only rarely: it took me inside the thoughts of individuals living far away and showed me the world through their eyes. More powerful than a thousand news reports, these stories not only opened my mind to the nuts and bolts of life in other places, but opened my heart to the way people there might feel.
And that in turn changed my thinking. Through reading the stories shared with me by bookish strangers around the globe, I realised I was not an isolated person, but part of a network that stretched all over the planet. One by one, the country names on the list that had begun as an intellectual exercise at the start of the year transformed into vital, vibrant places filled with laughter, love, anger, hope and fear. Lands that had once seemed exotic and remote became close and familiar to me – places I could identify with. At its best, I learned, fiction makes the world real.
(adapted from <http://www.bbc.com/culture/story/20130715-reading-the-world-in-365-days>)
Consider the following statements about the blog “A Year of Reading the World” and people’s reaction to it.
1. The blog was very successful in getting responses from people all over the world.
2. Some people posted books from their countries to Ann while others did hours of research.
3. Some writers sent her translations of their novels that had already been published in English.
4. Sixty-two per cent of the people that visited the blog and gave suggestions to Ann were British.
5. The blog made it quite easy for Ann Morgan to find books from all over the world.
Which of the statements above are TRUE, according to the text?
1. The blog was very successful in getting responses from people all over the world.
2. Some people posted books from their countries to Ann while others did hours of research.
3. Some writers sent her translations of their novels that had already been published in English.
4. Sixty-two per cent of the people that visited the blog and gave suggestions to Ann were British.
5. The blog made it quite easy for Ann Morgan to find books from all over the world.
Which of the statements above are TRUE, according to the text?
Q603446
Inglês
Texto associado
Reading the world in 196 books
By Ann Morgan (Photo: Darren Russell) – BBC - 15 July 2013
I used to think of myself as a fairly cosmopolitan sort of person, but
my bookshelves told a different story. Apart from a few Indian novels
and the odd Australian and South African book, my literature
collection consisted of British and American titles. Worse still, I hardly
ever tackled anything in translation. My reading was confined to
stories by English-speaking authors.
So, at the start of 2012, I set myself the challenge of trying to read a book from every country (well, all 195 United Nations (UN) recognised states plus former UN member Taiwan) in a year to find out what I was missing. With no idea how to go about this beyond a sneaking suspicion that I was unlikely to find publications from nearly 200 nations on the shelves of my local bookshop, I decided to ask the planet’s readers for help. I created a blog called A Year of Reading the World and put out an appeal for suggestions of titles that I could read in English.
So, at the start of 2012, I set myself the challenge of trying to read a book from every country (well, all 195 United Nations (UN) recognised states plus former UN member Taiwan) in a year to find out what I was missing. With no idea how to go about this beyond a sneaking suspicion that I was unlikely to find publications from nearly 200 nations on the shelves of my local bookshop, I decided to ask the planet’s readers for help. I created a blog called A Year of Reading the World and put out an appeal for suggestions of titles that I could read in English.
The response was amazing. Before I knew it, people all over the planet were getting in touch with ideas and offers of help. Some posted
me books from their home countries. Others did hours of research on my behalf. In addition, several writers, like Turkmenistan’s Ak
Welsapar and Panama’s Juan David Morgan, sent me unpublished translations of their novels, giving me a rare opportunity to read works
otherwise unavailable to the 62% of Brits who only speak English. Even with such an extraordinary team of bibliophiles behind me,
however, sourcing books was no easy task. For a start, with translations making up only around 4.5 per cent of literary works published
in the UK and Ireland, getting English versions of stories was tricky.
But the effort was worth it. As I made my way through the planet’s literary landscapes, extraordinary things started to happen. In the hands of gifted writers, I discovered bookpacking offered something a physical traveller could hope to experience only rarely: it took me inside the thoughts of individuals living far away and showed me the world through their eyes. More powerful than a thousand news reports, these stories not only opened my mind to the nuts and bolts of life in other places, but opened my heart to the way people there might feel.
And that in turn changed my thinking. Through reading the stories shared with me by bookish strangers around the globe, I realised I was not an isolated person, but part of a network that stretched all over the planet. One by one, the country names on the list that had begun as an intellectual exercise at the start of the year transformed into vital, vibrant places filled with laughter, love, anger, hope and fear. Lands that had once seemed exotic and remote became close and familiar to me – places I could identify with. At its best, I learned, fiction makes the world real.
But the effort was worth it. As I made my way through the planet’s literary landscapes, extraordinary things started to happen. In the hands of gifted writers, I discovered bookpacking offered something a physical traveller could hope to experience only rarely: it took me inside the thoughts of individuals living far away and showed me the world through their eyes. More powerful than a thousand news reports, these stories not only opened my mind to the nuts and bolts of life in other places, but opened my heart to the way people there might feel.
And that in turn changed my thinking. Through reading the stories shared with me by bookish strangers around the globe, I realised I was not an isolated person, but part of a network that stretched all over the planet. One by one, the country names on the list that had begun as an intellectual exercise at the start of the year transformed into vital, vibrant places filled with laughter, love, anger, hope and fear. Lands that had once seemed exotic and remote became close and familiar to me – places I could identify with. At its best, I learned, fiction makes the world real.
(adapted from <http://www.bbc.com/culture/story/20130715-reading-the-world-in-365-days>)
Which of these statements DOES NOT CORRESPOND to information given in the text about Ann Morgan's experience?
Q603447
Inglês
Texto associado
Reading the world in 196 books
By Ann Morgan (Photo: Darren Russell) – BBC - 15 July 2013
I used to think of myself as a fairly cosmopolitan sort of person, but
my bookshelves told a different story. Apart from a few Indian novels
and the odd Australian and South African book, my literature
collection consisted of British and American titles. Worse still, I hardly
ever tackled anything in translation. My reading was confined to
stories by English-speaking authors.
So, at the start of 2012, I set myself the challenge of trying to read a book from every country (well, all 195 United Nations (UN) recognised states plus former UN member Taiwan) in a year to find out what I was missing. With no idea how to go about this beyond a sneaking suspicion that I was unlikely to find publications from nearly 200 nations on the shelves of my local bookshop, I decided to ask the planet’s readers for help. I created a blog called A Year of Reading the World and put out an appeal for suggestions of titles that I could read in English.
So, at the start of 2012, I set myself the challenge of trying to read a book from every country (well, all 195 United Nations (UN) recognised states plus former UN member Taiwan) in a year to find out what I was missing. With no idea how to go about this beyond a sneaking suspicion that I was unlikely to find publications from nearly 200 nations on the shelves of my local bookshop, I decided to ask the planet’s readers for help. I created a blog called A Year of Reading the World and put out an appeal for suggestions of titles that I could read in English.
The response was amazing. Before I knew it, people all over the planet were getting in touch with ideas and offers of help. Some posted
me books from their home countries. Others did hours of research on my behalf. In addition, several writers, like Turkmenistan’s Ak
Welsapar and Panama’s Juan David Morgan, sent me unpublished translations of their novels, giving me a rare opportunity to read works
otherwise unavailable to the 62% of Brits who only speak English. Even with such an extraordinary team of bibliophiles behind me,
however, sourcing books was no easy task. For a start, with translations making up only around 4.5 per cent of literary works published
in the UK and Ireland, getting English versions of stories was tricky.
But the effort was worth it. As I made my way through the planet’s literary landscapes, extraordinary things started to happen. In the hands of gifted writers, I discovered bookpacking offered something a physical traveller could hope to experience only rarely: it took me inside the thoughts of individuals living far away and showed me the world through their eyes. More powerful than a thousand news reports, these stories not only opened my mind to the nuts and bolts of life in other places, but opened my heart to the way people there might feel.
And that in turn changed my thinking. Through reading the stories shared with me by bookish strangers around the globe, I realised I was not an isolated person, but part of a network that stretched all over the planet. One by one, the country names on the list that had begun as an intellectual exercise at the start of the year transformed into vital, vibrant places filled with laughter, love, anger, hope and fear. Lands that had once seemed exotic and remote became close and familiar to me – places I could identify with. At its best, I learned, fiction makes the world real.
But the effort was worth it. As I made my way through the planet’s literary landscapes, extraordinary things started to happen. In the hands of gifted writers, I discovered bookpacking offered something a physical traveller could hope to experience only rarely: it took me inside the thoughts of individuals living far away and showed me the world through their eyes. More powerful than a thousand news reports, these stories not only opened my mind to the nuts and bolts of life in other places, but opened my heart to the way people there might feel.
And that in turn changed my thinking. Through reading the stories shared with me by bookish strangers around the globe, I realised I was not an isolated person, but part of a network that stretched all over the planet. One by one, the country names on the list that had begun as an intellectual exercise at the start of the year transformed into vital, vibrant places filled with laughter, love, anger, hope and fear. Lands that had once seemed exotic and remote became close and familiar to me – places I could identify with. At its best, I learned, fiction makes the world real.
(adapted from <http://www.bbc.com/culture/story/20130715-reading-the-world-in-365-days>)
Mark the correct alternative, according to the text.