2018年5月CATTI一級(jí)筆譯實(shí)務(wù)真題來(lái)源

　　一級(jí)筆譯漢譯英文章來(lái)源：

　　中國(guó)商用飛機(jī)有限責(zé)任公司( 簡(jiǎn)稱(chēng)“中國(guó)商飛公司”) 是經(jīng)國(guó)務(wù)院批準(zhǔn)成立，由國(guó)務(wù)院國(guó)有資產(chǎn)監(jiān)督管理委員會(huì)、上海國(guó)盛( 集團(tuán)) 有限公司、中國(guó)航空工業(yè)集團(tuán)公司、中國(guó)鋁業(yè)公司、寶鋼集團(tuán)有限公司、中國(guó)中化股份有限公司共同出資組建，由國(guó)家控股的有限責(zé)任公司。公司于2008年5月11日在上海揭牌成立，總部設(shè)在上海。公司董事長(zhǎng)、黨委書(shū)記：金壯龍，總經(jīng)理：賀東風(fēng)。

　　中國(guó)商飛公司是實(shí)施國(guó)家大型飛機(jī)重大專(zhuān)項(xiàng)中大型客機(jī)項(xiàng)目的主體，也是統(tǒng)籌干線飛機(jī)和支線飛機(jī)發(fā)展、實(shí)現(xiàn)我國(guó)民用飛機(jī)產(chǎn)業(yè)化的主要載體，主要從事民用飛機(jī)及相關(guān)產(chǎn)品的科研、生產(chǎn)、試驗(yàn)試飛，從事民用飛機(jī)銷(xiāo)售及服務(wù)、租賃和運(yùn)營(yíng)等相關(guān)業(yè)務(wù)。中國(guó)商飛公司下轄中國(guó)商飛北京研究中心(北京民用飛機(jī)技術(shù)研究中心)、中國(guó)商飛設(shè)計(jì)研發(fā)中心(上海飛機(jī)設(shè)計(jì)研究院)、中國(guó)商飛總裝制造中心(上海飛機(jī)制造有限公司)、中國(guó)商飛民用飛機(jī)試飛中心、中國(guó)商飛客戶(hù)服務(wù)中心(上海飛機(jī)客戶(hù)服務(wù)有限公司)、中國(guó)商飛基礎(chǔ)能力中心(上海航空工業(yè)(集團(tuán))有限公司)、中國(guó)商飛新聞中心(上海《大飛機(jī)》雜志有限公司)、中國(guó)商飛四川分公司(籌)、中國(guó)商飛美國(guó)公司等成員單位，在北京、美國(guó)洛杉磯、法國(guó)巴黎設(shè)有北京辦事處、美國(guó)辦事處、歐洲辦事處等辦事機(jī)構(gòu)，在上海設(shè)立金融服務(wù)中心。中國(guó)商飛公司參股成都航空有限公司和浦銀金融租賃股份有限公司。

　　中國(guó)商飛公司按照現(xiàn)代企業(yè)制度組建和運(yùn)營(yíng)，實(shí)行“主制造商-供應(yīng)商”發(fā)展模式，重點(diǎn)加強(qiáng)飛機(jī)研發(fā)設(shè)計(jì)、總裝制造、市場(chǎng)營(yíng)銷(xiāo)、客戶(hù)服務(wù)、適航取證和供應(yīng)商管理等能力，堅(jiān)持中國(guó)特色，體現(xiàn)技術(shù)進(jìn)步，走市場(chǎng)化、集成化、產(chǎn)業(yè)化、國(guó)際化的發(fā)展道路，將全力打造更加安全、經(jīng)濟(jì)、舒適、環(huán)保的大型客機(jī)，立志讓中國(guó)人自主研制的大型客機(jī)早日飛上藍(lán)天。

　　公司使命：讓中國(guó)的大飛機(jī)翱翔藍(lán)天。

　　大型客機(jī)是一個(gè)國(guó)家工業(yè)、科技水平的綜合實(shí)力的集中體現(xiàn)，被譽(yù)為“現(xiàn)代工業(yè)之花”和“現(xiàn)代制造業(yè)的一顆明珠”。中國(guó)商飛公司因民族的百年飛天夢(mèng)想和國(guó)家的戰(zhàn)略而立，肩負(fù)著國(guó)家的意志，承載著民族的夢(mèng)想和人民的重托。讓中國(guó)的大飛機(jī)翱翔藍(lán)天的神圣使命，召喚和激勵(lì)著中國(guó)商飛公司全體員工將人生追求和價(jià)值目標(biāo)融入到為大型客機(jī)事業(yè)的不懈奮斗中，攻堅(jiān)克難、奮勇前行，堅(jiān)定地走具有中國(guó)特色、體現(xiàn)技術(shù)進(jìn)步的民機(jī)發(fā)展道路，實(shí)現(xiàn)大型客機(jī)項(xiàng)目的研制成功和商業(yè)成功，帶動(dòng)我國(guó)經(jīng)濟(jì)和科技發(fā)展，使中國(guó)航空工業(yè)向更高領(lǐng)域邁進(jìn)。

　　公司愿景：為客戶(hù)提供更加安全、經(jīng)濟(jì)、舒適和環(huán)保的民用飛機(jī)。

　　現(xiàn)代大型客機(jī)開(kāi)創(chuàng)了人類(lèi)飛翔的文明，是最具效率的交通出行工具。中國(guó)商飛公司作為世界民機(jī)大家庭的成員，將與客戶(hù)、合作伙伴攜手合作，致力于為客戶(hù)提供更加安全、經(jīng)濟(jì)、舒適、環(huán)保的民用飛機(jī)，使更多的人享受航空科技成果，使人類(lèi)進(jìn)入一個(gè)安全性水平更高、飛行風(fēng)險(xiǎn)更低的新時(shí)代，一個(gè)“人與藍(lán)天和諧相處”的新時(shí)代，架起人類(lèi)友誼、文明、進(jìn)步的橋梁，促進(jìn)全球可持續(xù)發(fā)展。

　　公司目標(biāo)：把大型客機(jī)項(xiàng)目建設(shè)成為新時(shí)期改革開(kāi)放的標(biāo)志性工程和建設(shè)創(chuàng)新型國(guó)家的標(biāo)志性工程，把中國(guó)商飛公司建設(shè)成為國(guó)際一流航空企業(yè)(“兩個(gè)建成”)。

　　研制和發(fā)展大型客機(jī)是建設(shè)創(chuàng)新型國(guó)家，提高我國(guó)自主創(chuàng)新能力和增強(qiáng)國(guó)家核心競(jìng)爭(zhēng)力的重大戰(zhàn)略舉措。中國(guó)商飛公司堅(jiān)定地走具有中國(guó)特色、體現(xiàn)技術(shù)進(jìn)步的自主創(chuàng)新之路，實(shí)施體制機(jī)制創(chuàng)新、技術(shù)創(chuàng)新、管理創(chuàng)新，堅(jiān)持市場(chǎng)化、集成化、產(chǎn)業(yè)化、國(guó)際化發(fā)展方略，發(fā)展具有自主知識(shí)產(chǎn)權(quán)的干線飛機(jī)和支線飛機(jī)，實(shí)現(xiàn)項(xiàng)目的研制成功、商業(yè)成功，提高我國(guó)航空工業(yè)的制造能力和管理水平，帶動(dòng)我國(guó)相應(yīng)基礎(chǔ)學(xué)科取得重大進(jìn)展，推動(dòng)我國(guó)相關(guān)領(lǐng)域關(guān)鍵技術(shù)取得群體突破，促進(jìn)我國(guó)民機(jī)產(chǎn)業(yè)鏈和產(chǎn)業(yè)集群的形成，發(fā)揮對(duì)創(chuàng)新型國(guó)家建設(shè)的全面帶動(dòng)作用和典型示范效應(yīng)，使中國(guó)商飛公司成為國(guó)際一流民用飛機(jī)制造企業(yè)。

　　一級(jí)筆譯英譯漢文章來(lái)源：

　　In December 2015, British publishing stood accused of woeful blindness to diversity, and not for the first time, after World Book Night (WBN) announced its titles, and none of the 15 books was by a writer of colour. An apology was issued by organisers but a wider malaise had already set in, and along with it, the troubling feeling that WBN’s oversight was less an isolated incident and more a recurring pattern of exclusion that stretched across the literary establishment.

　　A report on the state of the books industry had been published earlier that year by the development agency Spread the Word, which drew attention to how intransigently white, middle-class (and further up the ladder, male) it remained, from literary festivals and prizes to publications and personnel. Then, last autumn, there was more embarrassing exposure when World Book Day – which focuses on children’s titles – issued its own all-white book list and an independent publisher, OWN IT! flagged up the fact that only one black, British male debut novelist had been published in 2016 (which they published). Earlier this year, there was talk of a boycott when theCarnegie medal for children’s literature revealed its all-white longlist.

　　The industry has been announcing strategies for change since 2015. Publishing houses have rolled out paid internships, mentoring schemes and traineeships to attract socially under-represented and BAME applicants on an unprecedented scale, as well as creating opportunities for women to move into boardrooms.

　　To name a few recent initiatives: Penguin Random House is offering interest-free rent loans (to draw more applicants from outside London), and has set a company goal “for all new hires and the books we acquire to reflect UK society by 2025 in terms of social mobility, ethnicity, gender, disability, and sexuality”. Faber’s schemes include scholarships on its novel-writing course; HarperCollins is launching programmes for BAME employees and those taking long-term parental leave, while Hachette is encouraging diversity at an executive level (in a mentoring scheme with board members) and working with the Stephen Lawrence Trust in speaking to students in inner-city schools.

　　The industry body, the Publishers’ Association (PA), has brought out a 10-point “action plan”. Last month it staged its second Inclusivity in Publishing day with London book fair, where culture minister Matt Hancock gave a keynote speech (although the 200 price tag of a single ticket was somewhat ironic for a conference tackling social exclusion).

　　Some schemes show promising signs. Penguin’s WriteNow campaign, which connects aspiring writers from socially excluded communities to agents, editors and authors, is helping to demystify these professions. The charity Creative Access has enabled publishers to recruit and pay BAME interns (although its government funding was cut by 2m last year). Some literary festivals such as Cheltenham, Henley and Bradford are programming inclusively to improve the 1% national average of BAME panellists. Sarah Shaffi and Wei-Ming Kam have co-founded the BAME in Publishing network. WBN, for its part, has rethought its submissions process so that the cost is not prohibitive to smaller presses and out of 26 titles on its 2017 list, eight were by BAME authors.

　　It appears to be a turning point for British publishing, and yet those who have been around for long enough feel a profound sense of deja vu, not least because there have been mentorship schemes and initiatives before, yet the industry has always failed to maintain the diversity it has achieved. And where some publishers continue to reach for “schemes” or blame blockages elsewhere in the pipeline, independent publishers such as Canongate, Oneworld, Bloomsbury and Unbound have long been weaving inclusivity into their lists without the need for formal targets or traineeships.

　　Margaret Busby, the writer and pioneering publisher, regards the endeavour for better representation in publishing as a Sisyphean struggle begun decades ago and still no closer to being won. Mainstream publishing, she says, is too institutionalised in its biases to be corrected by a few new authors or schemes.

　　In the 1980s she helped to found Greater Access to Publishing (GAP), a group that campaigned to diversify the industry. An article she co-wrote with Virago publisher Lennie Goodings for the trade press in 1988 posed questions that are still being asked today, such as: “What are publishers doing to make their companies a more accurate reflection of their lists, readers and society?”

　　A decade later, the Arts Council brought in publishing traineeships for black and Asian candidates, whom Busby mentored. Another Arts Council scheme followed 10 years later to address representation in the workforce. In 2005, the Diversity in Publishing Network (Dipnet) was started and after that, Equip, a Publishing Equalities Charter in 2012. “What’s happening now is more initiatives,” Busby says. “But the problem can’t be solved with initiatives.”

　　There is overwhelming agreement among excluded communities that systemic change can only happen when inclusivity is filtered upwards. There is not yet gender parity on boards, even though women outnumber men in the industry; a lack of social diversity is one of its most stubborn problems and there are only a handful of BAME publishing executives who hold the power to buy books.

　　One change that has been universally praised is Little, Brown’s high-level appointment of Sharmaine Lovegrove as publisher of Dialogue Books, a new inclusive imprint. She has been in the job for five months but feels that even with these latest schemes, the industry is far from egalitarian: “It feels to me incredibly traditional and in need of rejuvenation in order to future-proof. For decades, you have had white, middle-class people acquiring books by white, middle-class people. I’m a black, middle-class woman who lives in London with Jamaican heritage and I speak German, having lived and worked in Berlin. All of that, when I’m looking for stories, makes my prism much wider than that of some of my colleagues in the broader industry, yet my difference highlights an issue rather than being celebrated for its insights, and that is exhausting.”

　　Lovegrove did not rise through the ranks but forged a 20-year career outside mainstream publishing (as a literary scout, a bookseller and literary editor of Elle). But why does inclusivity have to have its own ring-fenced imprint? Shouldn’t it be part of every imprint rather than becoming its own distinctive brand?

　　And exceptionalism can bring its own burdens; when the few representatives who have reached the higher echelons leave their posts, the system reverts back to type, argues Kadija George, the publisher of SABLE LitMag, one of Britain’s oldest publications for writers of colour. “When the [African-born] editor Ellah Wakatama Allfrey was at Jonathan Cape, she brought in authors of colour. When she left, it went back to the way it was before. What happens when Sharmaine Lovegrove leaves? It’s the equivalent of letting one person into Oxford but not giving them any support and expecting them to fly. It’s how to get that second and third person in there.”

　　Allfrey, who co-founded her own independent press, Indigo, last month, feels that recruitment in itself is not the solution. “The real issue is retention – making sure the recruits are still there in 10 or 20 years’ time.”

　　Sharmilla Beezmohun was mentored by Busby in 1993 in an Arts Council scheme and now runs a live literary events company, Speaking Volumes. “In my time with the big publishers, I felt I didn’t speak the language that other people spoke. I and many others took sideways steps. Ten years later, the Arts Council revived the scheme. Where has this second cohort ended up? Again, taking sideways steps. It doesn’t matter how many schemes you have. If there is a glass ceiling, people will continue to move sideways and to do their own independent work.”

　　Few, though, can deny that the fortunes of some authors have transformed in recent times. BAME writing is in demand and being spoken of as its own “market”. What is striking among these writers is that they were not championed by the establishment but found a way to publication through alternative streams. The writer and campaigner Nikesh Shukla put together an anthology of BAME writing, The Good Immigrant, because he felt these voices were not being heard, and crowdfunded it with the publisher, Unbound, in 2016. It has showcased a host of new talent and sold 60,000 copies.

　　Reni Eddo-Lodge was in the anthology and this year released her book, Why I’m No Longer Talking to White People About Race, which grew out of a blog. Published in June, it has become a bestseller and was longlisted for the Baillie Gifford prize for non-fiction. Added to this has been the surprise success of Oneworld, whose authors – Marlon James and Paul Beatty, both black and little known in Britain – won the Man Booker prize successively in 2015 and 2016.

　　These commercial and critical successes have proved what had been doubted in the traditional industry for so long: that non-white writers can attract audiences, and sales. The next wave of young black authors to be causing a stir have been taken up by big imprints – Afua Hirsch’s bookBrit(ish)is being published by Jonathan Cape, while Yomi Adegoke and Elizabeth Uviebinene’s debut, Slay in Your Lane: The Black Girl Bible, was bought in a nine-way auction by 4th Estate.

　　While Shukla acknowledges that there is greater visibility for writers of colour, he is torn between that optimism and the fear that “skin colour is being seen as a trend and not something that’s about societal good”. He has heard the industry talking about “black girls [being] on trend”, and Lovegrove feels that its integrity is undermined by the problematic politics of this labelling. “I’ve heard it described as ‘this marketplace of BAME authors’, which is triggering given the slave trade … It signifies that those who are leading this, even with the best intentions, have little concept of how to talk about people from a range of backgrounds.”

　　Although greater numbers of BAME authors give the impression of widening inclusivity, these writers, for all their achievements, are often expected to write about identity whatever their chosen genre. Abir Mukherjee is among a dynamic new circle of British Asian crime novelists that includes AA Dhand, Imran Mahmood and Alexander Khan; he has been told that his work is not “authentically Asian enough”, even though his debut, A Rising Man, recently won the CWA Endeavour Dagger for historical crime fiction. “Would you ask a writer from Northern Ireland only to write about the Troubles?” he asks.

　　The 2015 Spread the Word report showed that BAME writers were much less likely to have ongoing support and many still report this to be the case. So what you end up with is “fragmentation”, says Dee Jarrett-Macauley, chair of the board of trustees at the Caine prize for African writing and the first black chair in its 18-year history. “You have flavours of the month, you have two black Booker winners, you have schemes.”

　　Eddo-Lodge certainly felt unsupported by the infrastructure: “Opportunities opened up to me once I had proved myself. There was no wider support. It was just me plugging away mostly by myself. Many times I thought about quitting. The only time I felt invested in was when Bloomsbury took me on. They pulled out all the guns. I remember my first meeting with them, thinking: ‘What just happened?’”

　　And while there is a greater buzz around inclusive works, it is still largely being produced outside mainstream spaces: small presses such as Cassava Republic and Jacaranda Books have shown dynamism despite limited resources. Shukla has crowd-funded another Unbound anthology, Rife, and also a quarterly journal for BAME voices, the Good Journal, to run its issues across a year.

　　The Barelit literary festival – which was set up in 2016 out of frustration at the lack of diversity in Britain’s festival culture – crowdfunded its 11,000 overheads and attracted around 450 people in its first year and 600 this year, despite no marketing budget.

　　Syima Aslam and Irna Qureshi, two British Asians from Bradford, set up a festival for their city in 2015, financing it themselves and embedding inclusivity into the core of their programming. It has grown and attracted significant Arts Council funding as well as private sponsorship.

　　Many have hailed these projects as the “new mainstream”, which combines an inclusive outlook with alternative funding streams and online social media technology used to spread the word. The aim is to hit mainstream publishing with a ripple effect and some, including the writer and campaigner Sunny Singh, feel a “great amount of institutional resistance” to it but also that “an enormous number of people are not only galvanised but working with each other. I have seen it build this past year. It’s a new energy”.

　　The question of ongoing resource and reach remains, though, despite the solidarity and imagination in this “alternative” mainstream. The author Kit de Waal, who has campaigned energetically against class prejudice in publishing, says much of her work feels like “trying to kick a door down from the outside”. It is time that the industry “offered us a seat at the table”.

　　If that seat is not offered, the future for small, innovative initiatives remains financially unstable, pitted as they are against a far more powerful traditional system. What happens to the Good Journal when its first year of funding is used up, for example? And how viable will smaller presses be if they are left to take all the risks, with big publishers rocking in to buy up the authors they have championed through the early stages, once they begin to win prizes?

　　Louise Doughty, the novelist who is championing a BAME bursary for the MA in creative writing at UEA, feels a moral urgency for mainstream inclusion: “Recent political developments – Brexit, the rise of Trump – have seen an explosion of pernicious and divisive narratives in our public discourse, the use of othering and scapegoating as political tools. It’s in everybody’s interests for those narratives to be countered.”

　　If the moral argument is not convincing enough, there is another, more market-driven incentive for British publishing to address its problems with inclusivity, and that is to stop it becoming a faded industry on the global landscape. Some suggest that Britain is facing the prospect of a brain drain of BAME writers to Europe and America, where inclusivity is better embraced.

　　Aminatta Forna, a British novelist who teaches at Georgetown University in Washington DC, thinks that resistance to inclusion is already Britain’s loss. “There’s a black brain drain of authors to the US just as we have seen with black actors who became frustrated with the limited parts on offer in the UK: Zadie Smith, Hari Kunzru, Chris Abani, Caryl Phillips, Salman Rushdie, Fred D’Aguiar. Unless and until the publishing world realises that, nothing will change.” Beezmohun too has found that British writers of colour pull in big audiences, and translation deals, in Europe. “We take them to perform in tours and they sell out.”

　　From this standpoint, inclusivity might be more urgently needed by traditional publishing than by those it – however unconsciously – excludes. “It talks about inclusivity as if it is doing it for ‘us’,” says Lovegrove, who likens the culture of the bigger publishing houses to accountancy firms. “What it has fundamentally misunderstood is that ‘we’ don’t need saving. The industry desperately needs to flip the narrative and realise itneeds us to become more dynamic, more agile, more creative. Its business model for the next generation depends on it.”