Transcription
Hello and welcome to British accent shadowing. I'm Ashley Howard, a UK voice coach and accent teacher.
Today we're working with an extract from To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf, a beautifully rhythmic piece of English prose that's ideal for developing pronunciation, connected speech, and natural intonation and flow in the RP accent. This extract sits at C2 level, which means the language is complex, but perfect for advanced learners using shadowing. I'll read the passage once at a natural RP pace. Then we'll go line by line so you can shadow and repeat after me, building fluency and confidence as you speak. You can also download the free PDF of today's text with vocabulary notes using the link below. Let's begin.
"Yes, of course, if it's fine tomorrow," said Mrs. Ramsay, "but you'll have to be up with the lark," she added. To her son, these words conveyed an extraordinary joy, as if it were settled. The expedition were bound to take place, and the wonder to which he had looked forward for years and years, it seemed, was, after a night's darkness and a day's sail, within touch, since he belonged, even at the age of six, to that great clan which cannot keep this feeling separate from that, but must let future prospects with their joys and sorrows cloud what is actually at hand, since to such people even in earliest childhood any turn in the wheel of sensation has the power to crystallize and transfix the moment upon which its gloom or radiance rests.
James Ramsay, sitting on the floor cutting out pictures from the illustrated catalog of army and navy stores, endowed the picture of a refrigerator as his mother spoke with heavenly bliss. It was fringed with joy. The wheelbarrow, the lawn mower, the sound of popppler trees, leaves whitening before rain, rooks cawing, brooms knocking, dresses rustling. All these were so colored and distinguished in his mind that he had already his private code, his secret language, though he appeared the image of stark and uncompromising severity with his high forehead and his fierce blue eyes, impeccably candid and pure, frowning slightly at the sight of human frailty, so that his mother, watching him guide his scissors neatly round the refrigerator, imagined him all red and man on the bench or directing a stern and momentous enterprise in some crisis of public affairs.
But his father said, stopping in front of the drawing room window, "It won't be fine." Had there been an axe handy, a poker, or any weapon that would have gashed a hole in his father's breast and killed him, there and then James would have seized it. Such were the extremes of emotion that Mr. Ramsay excited in his children's breasts by his mere presence, standing as now lean as a knife, narrow as the blade of one, grinning sarcastically, not only with the pleasure of disillusioning his son, and casting ridicule upon his wife, who was 10,000 times better in every way than he was, James thought, but also with some secret conceit at his own accuracy of judgment. What he said was true. It was always true. He was incapable of untruth. Never tampered with a fact. Never altered a disagreeable word to suit the pleasure or convenience of any mortal being, least of all his own children, who sprung from his loins, should be aware from childhood that life is difficult, facts uncompromising. And the passage to that fabled land where our brightest hopes are extinguished, our frail barks founder in darkness. Here Mr. Ramsay would straighten his back and narrow his little blue eyes upon the horizon, one that needs above all courage, truth, and the power to endure.
Now, copy after me. Before we continue, check out my British accent training books, 12 hours of audio accessible on your phone, thousands of practiced words and sentences, and over 300 pages covering every vowel and consonant and aspect of intonation. The links in the description and in the pinned comment.
"Yes, of course. If it's fine tomorrow," said Mrs. Ramsay, "but you'll have to be up with the lark." She added to her son. These words conveyed an extraordinary joy as if it were settled. The expedition were bound to take place and the wonder to which he had looked forward for years and years. It seemed was after a night's darkness and a day's sail within touch since he belonged even at the age of six to that great clan which cannot keep this feeling separate from that. But must let future prospects with their joys and sorrows cloud what is actually at hand. Since to such people even in earliest childhood. Any turn in the wheel of sensation has the power to crystallize and transfix. The moment upon which its gloom or radiance rests.
James Ramsay sitting on the floor cutting out pictures from the illustrated catalog of the Army and Navy stores endowed the picture of a refrigerator as his mother spoke with heavenly bliss. It was fringed with joy. The wheelbarrow, the lawn mower, the sound of popppler trees, leaves whitening before rain, rooks cawing, brooms knocking. Dresses rustling. All these were so colored and distinguished in his mind that he had already his private code, his secret language. Though he appeared, the image of stark and uncompromising severity with his high forehead and his fierce blue eyes, impeccably candid and pure, frowning slightly at the sight of human frailty. So that his mother watching him guide his scissors neatly round the refrigerator. Imagined him all red and man on the bench or directing a stern and momentous enterprise in some crisis of public affairs.
But said his father, stopping in front of the drawing room window. "It won't be fine." Had there been an axe handy, a poker, or any weapon that would have gashed a hole in his father's breast and killed him. There and then James would have seized it. Such were the extremes of emotion that Mr. Ramsay excited in his children's breasts by his mere presence. Standing as now lean as a knife, narrow as the blade of one. Grinning sarcastically. Not only with the pleasure of disillusioning his son and casting ridicule upon his wife, who was 10,000 times better in every way than he was, James thought, but also with some secret conceit at his own accuracy of judgment. What he said was true. It was always true. He was incapable of untruth. Never tampered with a fact. Never altered a disagreeable word to suit the pleasure or convenience of any mortal being, least of all his own children, who sprung hung from his loins. Should be aware from childhood that life is difficult, facts uncompromising. And the passage to that fabled land where our brightest hopes are extinguished. Our frail barks founder in darkness. Here Mr. Ramsay would straighten his back. And narrow his little blue eyes upon the horizon. One that needs above all courage, truth, and the power to endure.
Now speak with me at the same time. By the way, you'll find a link to my British English pronunciation course in the description below.
"Yes, of course, if it's fine tomorrow," said Mrs. Ramsay. "But you'll have to be up with the lark," she added. To her son, these words conveyed an extraordinary joy, as if it were settled. The expedition were bound to take place, and the wonder to which he had looked forward for years and years, it seemed, was, after a night's darkness and a day's sail, within touch, since he belonged, even at the age of six, to that great clan which cannot keep this feeling separate from that, but must let future prospects with their joys and sorrows cloud what is actually at hand, since to such people even in earliest childhood. Any turn in the wheel of sensation has the power to crystallize and transfix the moment upon which its gloom or radiance rests.
James Ramsay sitting on the floor cutting out pictures from the illustrated catalog of army and navy stores endowed the picture of a refrigerator as his mother spoke with heavenly bliss. It was fringed with joy. The wheelbarrow, the lawn mower, the sound of popppler trees, leaves whitening before rain, rooks cawing, brooms knocking, dresses rustling. All these were so colored and distinguished in his mind that he had already his private code, his secret language, though he appeared the image of stark and uncompromising severity with his high forehead and his fierce blue eyes impeccably candid and pure, frowning slightly at the sight of human frailty, so that his mother. So that his mother, watching him guide his scissors neatly round the refrigerator, imagined him all red and man on the bench or directing a stern and momentous enterprise in some crisis of public affairs.
But his father said, stopping in front of the drawing room window, "It won't be fine." Had there been an axe handy, a poker, or any weapon that would have gashed a hole in his father's breast and killed him, there and then James would have seized it. Such were the extremes of emotion that Mr. Ramsay excited in his children's breasts by his mere presence, standing as now lean as a knife, narrow as the blade of one, grinning sarcastically, not only with the pleasure of disillusioning his son, and casting ridicule upon his wife, who was 10,000 times better in every way than he was, James thought, but also with some secret conceit at his own accuracy of judgment. What he said was true. It was always true. He was incapable of untruth. Never tampered with a fact. Never altered a disagreeable word to suit the pleasure or convenience of any mortal being, least of all his own children, who sprung from his loins, should be aware from childhood that life is difficult, facts uncompromising. And the passage to that fabled land where our brightest hopes are extinguished, our frail barks founder in darkness. Here Mr. Ramsay would straighten his back and narrow his little blue eyes upon the horizon, one that needs above all courage, truth, and the power to endure.
Great work today. Shadowing a passage like To the Lighthouse is an excellent way to develop connected speech, pronunciation, and a sensitive awareness of rhythm and stress in modern RP British English. If this session helped you, please subscribe. It really supports the channel and helps more learners discover these lessons. And if you'd like more episodes more often, you can now join as a channel member using the link in the description. Your support genuinely makes a difference. Thanks for watching and I'll see you in the next British accent shadowing session.