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When my students go through Jose Rizal’s expenses in Europe, they note that his biggest and most regular expenses were for the purchase of books and postage stamps. This is not surprising because we all know that he liked to read and study, and to write home a lot because he was homesick in Madrid. Students also note that he bought 1/10 of a lottery ticket every week. When I ask what he did with a ball of yarn, students reply that Rizal probably had a pet cat, and that he used the yarn to darn the holes in his socks or to tie up the maid for kinky sex. We see ourselves in historical records and I often allow the students to make their own crazy conclusions before drawing them back to the primary source and what it actually says. Other teachers will not allow silly comments in class but I do, hoping that new insight will sometimes be found in a side remark. Rizal’s letters are seldom read because we are so focused on his novels and poetry in a classroom. Yet it is in and through these letters that we see Rizal plain and gain insight into his works. It may be a trivial matter, but Rizal’s letters to family members are the most endearing. Remember 7-11: that Rizal was the seventh child of 11 born to Francisco Mercado and Teodora Alonso.
He was the second of two boys in a home dominated, literally, by women. Rizal’s sisters were as prolific as their parents, so he was often told about new additions to the family. In a letter dated Nov. 23, 1883, Teodora Alonso related: “Now I’m going to mention to you, one by one, my new debts to the Lord. On June 6, 1882, Lucía delivered a baby boy who was named José. On 15 Sept. 1882, Neneng gave birth to a boy who was named Alfredo. On 14 June 1883, Sisa gave birth to a girl who was given the name María Consolación; on 3 Sept. 1883, Olimpia gave birth to a boy who was named Aristeo; on 24 Nov. 1883, Lucía gave birth to a girl. On the 26[th] of this month, Neneng gave birth to a girl also. Both girls are not yet baptized but they will be on Sunday. Here many die of childbirth but they went through it safely.” One of thememorable characters of “Noli Me Tangere” is “Sisa” a name taken from the nickname of Rizal’s favorite sister Narcisa. On Feb. 27, 1886, she wrote: “I suppose you don’t know yet that I’m now the mother of six children. In this letter you will see the names of the three older ones written by themselves, and of the last ones, the older was Isabel, the deceased one, and the two, one girl and one boy, are called Consolación and Leoncio López, who is as fat as a melon. The children of Sra. Neneng are three: They are called Alfredo, Adela, and Abelardo. Olimpia’s shortly will be three, like Sra. Neneng’s. The two who are not here are called Aristeo and Cesario; the older one called Aristeo, what a lively boy he is! His godfather is Sr. Paciano.
He will be a useful boy when he gets older. At the age of two, he already knows a great deal. He is the only consolation of our parents, I tell you, because when you see this child, even if you are angry, you will be obliged to laugh, he is so funny.” One can only imagine what joy Rizal, homesick in Europe, got from letters. Neneng, for example, described Alfredo Porfirio or “Freding” in a letter dated Dec. 14, 1882, as having “a well-shaped body, … stout, round-faced, having a sharp nose, small chin and eyes, flat head, bald on the left side. When we go to Manila, we shall have his picture and mine taken and will send them to you.” Lucia Herbosa, in a letter on Nov. 13, 1882, described a son born to her in that year that they named Jose: “I amuse myself with José’s ear, which is like yours. I tell you that it is really like yours, but I pray that the likeness does not stop there, but that he may have your disposition, your goodness, and diligence in good works.” In July 1886 Lucia’s husband wrote Rizal about their daughter Delfina who was suffering from “a little inflammation of [her] eye, which is the cause of her absence from school. What a pity she did not become a boy! She is bright and very studious. Her mother is always telling her not to read because her inflammation might worsen, but she is so hardheaded.” Imagine a child insisting on reading! Delfina was to figure in Philippine history 12 years later, in 1898, when she assisted Marcela Agoncillo in Hong Kong in the sewing and embroidering of the first Philippine flag. Education was important for Rizal’s nephews and nieces. His brother Paciano, on July 18, 1886, requested him: “Furnish me with information of the best schools there. We have many nephews, most of them promising. It is a pity that these ones should fall into the hands of teachers who teach unwillingly and do so
only for show. It is true that they inculcate in children very sane principles, such as fear and humility, the first being the beginning of wisdom and the second of apostolic and civic virtue, but it is also true that fear and humility lead to dullness.” It is not enough to see Rizal as a doting uncle; one should also appreciate that the Rizal family put a premium on the education of their little ones. It was no better way of investing in the future, for children were the bella esperanza de la patria mia (the fair hope of the motherland). Posted by Nomerson R. Abedoza at 3:31 am
THE DEATH OF JOSE RIZAL: Ambeth Ocampo’s Version
Editor’s note: The following is the article written by today’s most famous Filipino historian Ambeth R. Ocampo on Jose Rizal’s death. Simply entitled, “The Death of Jose Rizal,” this historical piece by the current head of the National Historical Institute (of the Philippines) could be deemed refreshing and controversial, as it offers several unpopular and unorthodox accounts of what (presumably) transpired on the day of Rizal’s execution. For one thing, it virtually proclaims that Rizal refused to kiss the crucifix before he was executed, thereby negating the claim of other historians (like Zaide) that the national hero even asked for this Catholic sacramental. Happy reading!
THE OBSERVANT WILL NOTICE metal footprints on the pavement running from Fort Santiago to the Luneta in seafront Manila. They resemble dancing patterns, but actually trace the last steps of Jose Rizal as he walked from his prison cell to the site of his execution on December 30, 1896. The Rizal Centennial Commission claims that the footprints are based on Rizal’s actual shoe size. When people ask why the steps are so small, the quick reply is: “If you are walking to your death, would you hurry?” The slow walk to Bagumbayan field (as Rizal Park or the Luneta was once called) began at 6:30 a.m. on a cool, clear morning. Rizal was dressed in a black coat and trousers and a white shirt and waistcoat. He was tied elbow to elbow, but held up his head in a chistera or bowler hat. A bugler signaled his passage, while the roll of drums muffled in black cloth gave cadence to his gait. From Fort Santiago he took a right turn, and walked along the
Paseo Maria Cristina (now Bonifacio Drive), which gave him a view lifting the darkness over Manila Bay on the right, and a last glimpse of Intramuros, shadowed by the missing sun, on his left. He walked between two Jesuits, Father Estanislao March and Father Jose Villaclara. They too were in black – the trademark black hats, tunics, and heavy coats that made the young Rizal and his Ateneo schoolmates refer to them aspaniki (bats, or colloquially perhaps, batmen). Behind Rizal walked the brother of his former bodyguard, Lieutenant Luis Taviel de Andrade, who had vainly defended him in a farce masquerading as a trial. The streets were lined with people who wanted to see the condemned man, since Rizal was many things to different people: “leader of the revolution,” physician, novelist, poet, sculptor, heretic, subversive. Rizal was a person one could not be neutral about. Like him or hate him, he was a celebrity. Although he was walking to his death, eyewitnesses describe Rizal as serene – a bit pale, not because of fear of his fate, but because he had not had any breakfast. All he had been given were three hard-boiled eggs, which he took to a corner of his prison cell, saying, “This is for the rats; let them have a fiesta, too.” Then he left his cell. Rizal is said to have nodded left and right to acknowledge familiar faces in crowd. From time to time he smiled, and is said to have made a few jokes, and laughed at these himself because the Jesuits flanking him remained somber. Others noticed his eyes dart quickly from left to right, and some believed that members of his family or the Katipuneros would make a last-ditch effort to save him from death. Was Rizal waiting for help that never came? And perhaps for an opportunity to spurn that help? Had he expected to see his family by the roadside? We will never know more than the fact that he was walking to his destiny. In the clear morning Rizal could probably see as far as Susong Dalaga, and appreciate the silhouette of a naked woman on the mountain range across from Manila Bay. “What a beautiful morning!” he said, “On mornings like this I used to take walks here with my sweetheart.” Before reaching Bagumbayan, he glanced at Intramuros, sighed, and seeing the spires of the church of San Ignacio, said: “Is that the Ateneo? I spent many happy years there.” The Jesuits’ response is not recorded. Someone had the foresight to take a photograph of the execution. The scene looked like a box, lined, three or four people deep, on three sides. The empty fourth side
faced the bay, and the executioners’ line of fire. Eight Filipino soldiers armed with Remingtons formed the firing squad. Behind them stood the drummers and another line of Spanish soldiers with Mausers, ready to shoot the Filipinos if they refused to shoot, or purposely missed their target. When everyone was in place, there was a slight delay because Rizal refused the customary blindfold, and asked to face the firing squad. The Spanish captain who had guided Rizal to the site insisted that he be shot in the back as ordered, because he was a traitor to Spain. Rizal declared that he had never been a traitor to the country of his birth or to Spain. After some coaxing, Rizal finally turned his back, but again refused the blindfold, and furthermore refused to kneel. After all this haggling he made one last request: that the executioners spare his head, and shoot him in the back towards the heart. When the captain agreed, Rizal clasped the hand of Lieutenant Taviel de Andrade and thanked him once more for the vain effort of defending him before the military court that sentenced him to death. Meanwhile, a curious Spanish military doctor felt Rizal’s pulse, and was surprised to find it regular and normal. The Jesuits were the last to leave the condemned man. They raised the crucifix to his face and lips, but he turned his head away and silently prepared to meet death. The captain raised his saber in the air, ordered his men to get ready, and barked the order: “Preparen!” This was followed by the order to aim the rifles: “Apunten!” In the split second before the saber was brought down with the order to fir – “Fuego!” – Rizal shouted the last two words of the crucified Christ: “Consummatum est!” (It is done). The shots rang out, the bullets hit their mark, and Rizal executed that carefully choreographed twist that he had practiced years before, which made him fall faced up on the ground. People held their breath as soldiers came up to the corpse and gave Rizal the tiro de gracia, one last merciful shot in the head at close range to make sure he was really dead. A small dog, the military mascot, ran around the corpse whining, and the crowd moved in for a closer look, but were kept at bay by the soldiers who stood in the first row of spectators. After a short silence, someone shouted: “Long live Spain! Death to the traitor!” The crowd did not respond. An officer approached the person who had shouted, and berated him. To fill in the gap, the military band played theMarcha de
Cadiz. It was 7:03 a.m. The show was over.”
“The Death of Jose Rizal: Ambeth Ocampo’s
Posted by Nomerson R. Abedoza at 3:22 AM
Fighting over champagne
By Ambeth R. Ocampo
Philippine Daily Inquirer
11:01 pm | Thursday, May 23rd, 2013
Marcelo H. del Pilar once quoted Jose Rizal as saying, “Where there are two Filipinos unity is not possible.” We will never know if Rizal was misquoted, but that line should encourage us to do some soul-searching. It is more relevant to us today than another famous line put in Rizal’s mouth about the necessity of looking to the past to achieve one’s goals: “Ang hindi marunong lumingon sa pinagdaanan, di makararating sa paroroonan.” Rizal never said this; he actually wrote something better, in 1879, as an epigraph to his play “Council of the Gods.” It goes: “Con el recuerdo del pasado entro en el porvenir (I enter the future remembering the past).” If our textbooks carried better quotes to live by, the world would be better off. People who think Rizal would have become a good president of the Philippines should think twice. He may have had a high IQ but he lacked EQ. He was respected but was not as well-liked as Plaridel (Del Pilar). If Rizal went into politics today, he would not even be elected barangay captain because he was too serious. He would not sing or dance Gangnam style to woo voters. He would neither cheat nor buy votes. And if Rizal were elected at all, he would surely end up being shot in Bagumbayan all over again! This anecdote narrated by Plaridel to Deodato Arellano in March 1891 is one reason Rizal did not get elected leader of the expatriates in Madrid: “It is a tradition in the [Filipino] colony to have a fraternal dinner on the night of the 31st of December. In the morning of that day the question of serving champagne was brought up in our lodgings, all the more since the boys had taken a great deal of trouble preparing speeches. A thousand ways were discussed to make champagne available that night, and at lunch time there was a great deal of chaffing about it among ourselves, but I kept my mouth shut, and
without saying a word was planning to pay for the champagne myself; I wanted to give them a surprise. No sooner said than done; after lunch I went to Bayo’s house to get hold of some money for the night’s champagne. From Bayo’s house I went, at about three o’clock in the afternoon, to the house of Doña Justa Jugo where we had been invited to tea on the birthday of her son. While I was there Rizal arrived and called me aside to tell me: ‘Before coming here I passed by your house and I saw a resolution being prepared asking you to pay for the coffee tonight.’ ‘Agreed,’ I answered. Imagine, how could I not agree when I had been ready to pay for something more expensive! “Came the night and the young people, in high spirits as usual, signed a paper which they would not let me read: when we were sitting down to dinner, a resolution, very wittily drafted by Lete, and signed by twenty-five guests (we were all in all thirty-one, I believe) was read out, asking me to pay for the coffee, Cunanan for the cigars, and Rizal and Dominador Gomez (who had not yet arrived) for the champagne. “I expressed my agreement and so did Cunanan. But Rizal had the good or bad taste to protest and argue. I tried to head off his protest by suggesting that the champagne be paid [for] by Modesto Reyes and Mariano Abella, who had agreed to do so, in addition to those already named; but perhaps because Rizal did not hear me, we being far apart, I at the head of the table and he at the extreme left, with the authors of the resolution at the extreme right, my suggestion for reinforcements was not taken up and, on Rizal’s initiative, he began at the left end of the table to collect one peseta per person to pay for the champagne. In the midst of the hubbub someone approached me and whispered: ‘Mr. Editor, the resolution is withdrawn but we are grateful for your kindness with regard to the coffee; we expected nothing less from your generosity.’ “I understood the bitterness that Rizal’s protest had aroused. The latter, who was oblivious to it, continued gay and witty while I worried about a quarrel breaking out. The collection of one peseta was paid from the left end to the center, but from there to the right end nobody wanted to contribute. “Witticisms, very ingenious and wounding, began to be directed against Rizal from the right end, but I took advantage of the fact that Rizal did not seem to realize the point of the jokes and stood up to approach those at the right end and asked them confidentially not to spoil such a brotherly gathering. They all listened to me and there were no more
jokes for the rest of the dinner. “Came the time for the toasts. Dr. Rosario started them off and he was so eloquent in the periodic sentence in which he bewailed the lack of diligence of some in their studies that he drew tremendous applause, but at the end of the clapping Rizal was heard saying: ‘We should be sorry for it, not applaud it.’ This caused some sour looks but it passed.” (Translated from the original Spanish by Leon Ma. Guerrero) It is unfortunate we only have Plaridel’s account of Rizal’s surly behavior. All we know is that the election between them was cooked up shortly afterward, resulting in Rizal’s election after repeated balloting. But Rizal walked out, thus giving the leadership to Plaridel by default. In a letter to Plaridel in October 1891, Rizal referred to this episode with bitterness: “A glass of champagne has dissolved the idol made of clay. If it was really clay, what does it matter if it is gone?” * * *
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Read more: http://opinion.inquirer.net/53205/fighting-over-champagne#ixzz2beA8vc4j Follow us: @inquirerdotnet on Twitter | inquirerdotnet on Facebook Looking Back
‘Rizal and me’
By Ambeth R. Ocampo
Philippine Daily Inquirer
10:26 pm | Thursday, June 20th, 2013
(Concluded from Wednesday)
Why should students endure boring textbook biographies of Rizal when he practically left an autobiography scattered in the 25 volumes of his compiled writing? Here, Rizal and me discuss his mother. JOSE RIZAL (JR): Without her, what would have been my education and my fate? Next to God, a mother is everything to a man. AMBETH R. OCAMPO (ARO): I agree.
JR: She taught me how to read, she taught me how to stammer the humble prayers that I addressed fervently to God, and now that I’m a young man, oh, where is the simplicity, the innocence, of my early days? ARO: What else?
JR: My mother is called Mrs. Teodora Alonso de Quintos, of the family of Mr. José Florentino [of Ilocos], granddaughter, if I remember correctly. ARO: I think Florentino was her cousin. Perhaps your literary gifts were inherited from Leona Florentino of Vigan who is one of the few women remembered in our early Philippine literary history. Thus, you are also related to her son Isabelo de los Reyes. Let’s not get distracted, please continue. JR: My mother was a woman of more than average education. She was conversant with literature and spoke better Spanish than me. She corrected my verses and gave me good advice in rhetoric. She was a mathematician and read many books. Her father [Lorenzo Alberto Alonso], a deputy in the Cortes representing the Philippines, was her teacher. Her brother [Jose Alberto] was educated in Europe and spoke German, English, Spanish and French. He was also knighted with the Order of Isabel la Catolica. ARO: Was it your mother who taught you to read?
JR: My first remembrance concerning letters goes back to my earliest age. I must be very small yet because when they polished the floor of our house with banana leaves, I would still fall, slipping on the shiny surface, as did little skilled skaters on ice. It was still difficult for me to climb up a chair. I went down the staircase step by step, holding on to every baluster, and in our house, as in the whole town, petroleum was unknown. Neither had I seen until that time any quinque lamp, nor had any carriage ever passed through the streets of my town that I believed to be the height of joy and animation. One night, when everybody else at home was already asleep, when the lights in the globes had already been put out by blowing them off by means of a curved tin tube that seemed to me the most exquisite and wonderful toy in the world, I don’t know why my mother and I remained watching beside the only light that in all Philippine houses burned all night long, and that went out precisely at dawn, waking the people with its cheerful hissing. My mother then was still young. After a bath her hair, which she let down to dry, dragged half a handbreadth on the floor, by which reason she knotted its end. ARO: Wow! I have seen 19th-century paintings and photographs depicting Filipino women whose hair reached the floor. My mother once had hair that measured over four feet. As a sign of her freedom from her parents, the first thing she did upon marriage was to cut that marvelous
Rapunzel-like hair. Next, she turned my father’s favorite shirt into a basahan (rag). Sorry, please continue. JR: My mother taught me to read in Amigo de los Niños (The Children’s Friend), an old book [by the Abbot Sabatier translated from the original French to Spanish] that [at the time] had become quite rare. It had lost its cover and one of my sisters cleverly covered it again by pasting a thick blue paper, the remnant of the wrapper of a bolt of cloth, on its back. That night my mother was annoyed listening to me read poorly. I didn’t understand Spanish and couldn’t add expression to the phrases. She took the book from me. After scolding me for drawing rude pictures on its pages, she began to read, asking me to follow her example. My mother, when her sight was not yet impaired, read very well. She could recite and write poetry. How many times during Christmas vacation afterward, she corrected my poems, making very apt observations. I listened to her full of childish admiration. I marveled at the ease with which she read sonorous phrases from the same pages that cost me so much effort to read and that I deciphered haltingly. Perhaps my ears soon got tired of hearing sounds that meant nothing to me. Perhaps due to my natural distraction, I lacked attention to the reading and watched more closely the cheerful flame around which some small moths fluttered with playful and uneven flight. Perhaps I yawned, and my mother noticed I had lost interest. She stopped reading and said to me: “Now I’m going to read to you a very pretty story. Listen.” ARO: Ah, the famous story of the gamu-gamo known by all Filipino children. Prewar “Philippine Readers” carried illustrations by National Artist Fernando Amorsolo, one of you and your mother reading. Who else told you stories when you were a boy? JR: We would go to the azotea or to some window where the moon could be seen, then my aya would tell us stories, sometimes sad and at other times happy, in which skeletons and buried treasure, and trees blooming with diamonds, were mingled in confusion, all born of an Oriental imagination. Sometimes she told us that men lived on the moon, or that the markings we could see on the moon were nothing else but a woman forever weaving. The publication of “Rizal and me” is forthcoming.
* * *
Comments are welcome at [email protected]
The Auxiliary Verb
Recognize an auxiliary verb when you see one.
Every sentence must have a verb. To depict doable activities, writers use action verbs. To describe conditions, writers choose linking verbs. Sometimes an action or condition occurs just once—bang!—and it’s over. Nate stubbed his toe.
He is miserable with pain.
Other times, the activity or condition continues over a long stretch of time, happens predictably, or occurs in relationship to other events. In these instances, a single-word verb like stubbed or iscannot accurately describe what happened, so writers use multipart verb phrases to communicate what they mean. As many as four words can comprise a verb phrase. A main or base verb indicates the type of action or condition, and auxiliary—or helping—verbs convey the other nuances that writers want to express. Read these three examples:
Sherylee smacked her lips as raspberry jelly dripped from the donut onto her white shirt. Sherylee is always dripping something.
Since Sherylee is such a klutz, she should have been eating a cake donut, which would not have stained her shirt. In the first sentence, smacked and dripped, single-word verbs, describe the quick actions of both Sherylee and the raspberry jelly. Since Sherylee has a pattern of messiness, is dripping communicates the frequency of her clumsiness. The auxiliary verbs that comprise should have been eating and would have stained express not only time relationships but also evaluation of Sherylee’s actions. Below are the auxiliary verbs. You can conjugate be, do, and have; the modal auxiliaries, however, never change form. Be| Do| Have|
Modal Auxiliaries [Never Change Form]|
can, could, may, might, must, ought to, shall, should, will, would| Understand the dual nature of be, do, and have.
Be, do, and have are both stand-alone verbs and auxiliary verbs. When these verbs are auxiliary, you will find them teamed with other verbs to complete the verb phrase. Compare these sentences: Freddy is envious of Beatrice’s steaming bowl of squid eyeball stew. Is = linking verb.
Freddy is studying Beatrice’s steaming bowl of squid eyeball stew with envy in his eyes. Is = auxiliary verb; studying = present participle completing the verb phrase. We did our homework for Mrs. Long.
Did = action verb.
We’re not slackers! We did prepare our homework for Mrs. Long. Did = auxiliary verb; prepare = main verb completing the verb phrase. Selena has twelve orange goldfish in her aquarium.
Has = action verb.
Selena has bought a catfish to help keep the tank clean.
Has = auxiliary verb; bought = past participle completing the verb phrase. Form progressive tenses with the auxiliary verb be.
All progressive tenses use a form of be. Present progressive follows this pattern: am, is, or are + present participle
Use the present progressive tense to convey an action or condition happening right now or frequently. I am baking chocolate-broccoli muffins today.
Am = auxiliary verb; baking = present participle completing the verb phrase.
Alex is sitting at the kitchen table, anticipating his first bite. Is = auxiliary verb; sitting = present participle completing the verb phrase. Alex must wait a while longer because the muffins are cooling by the window. Are = auxiliary verb; cooling = present participle completing the verb phrase. Impatient Alex is always waiting to taste whatever I cook. Is = auxiliary verb; waiting = present participle completing the verb phrase. Past progressive follows this pattern:
was or were + present participle
Use the past progressive tense to show either 1) an action or condition that continued in the past or 2) an action or condition interrupted by another. Naomi was hoping for an A in her organic chemistry class.
Was = auxiliary verb; hoping = present participle completing the verb phrase. Unfortunately, Naomi’s lab reports were missing the nutritional data on chocolate-broccoli muffins. Were = auxiliary verb; missing = present participle completing the verb phrase. While Naomi was obsessing about her grade, Jason shared the data that she needed. Was = auxiliary verb; obsessing = present participle completing the verb phrase. Future progressive looks like this:
will + be + present participle
Use the future progressive tense to indicate an action that will continue in the future. I will be growing broccoli in the backyard this spring.
Will, be = auxiliary verbs; growing = present participle completing the verb phrase. Soon, Alex will be eating organic chocolate-broccoli muffins! Will, be = auxiliary verbs; eating = present participle completing the verb phrase. Form passive voice with be.
You can make any transitive verb—an action verb that can take a direct object—passive with the auxiliary verb be. Active voice looks like this:
subject + verb + direct object.
Here are some samples:
We licked our lips.
Frank devoured a bacon double cheeseburger.
Everyone envied his enjoyment.
Passive voice makes these changes:
direct object as subject + form of be + past participle + by + subject as object of the preposition. Now read these revisions:
Our lips were licked by us.
The double bacon cheeseburger was being devoured by Frank. His enjoyment was envied by everyone.
Notice how wordy and clunky passive voice is! Now you know why English teachers tell you to avoid it! Form perfect tenses with have.
All perfect tenses use a form of have. Present perfect follows this pattern: has or have + past participle
Use the present perfect tense to convey an action or condition that began in the past but continues [or is finished] in the present. Marge has bought earplugs to drown out her husband’s snoring. Has = auxiliary verb; bought = past participle completing the verb phrase. The earplugs have saved Marge’s marriage to George.
Have = auxiliary verb; saved = past participle completing the verb phrase. Past perfect follows this pattern:
had + past participle
Use the past perfect tense to show that one action in the past occurred before another. Because Marge had purchased the earplugs, she no longer fantasized about smothering George with a pillow. Had = auxiliary verb; purchased = past participle completing the verb phrase. Future perfect follows this pattern:
will + have + past participle
Use the future perfect tense to indicate that an action will be finished in the future. This Sunday, Marge will have gotten an entire week of uninterrupted sleep. Will, have = auxiliary verbs; gotten = past participle completing the verb phrase. Form emphatic tenses with do.
When you use a form of do as an auxiliary verb, you form the emphatic tense. This tense is useful for asking questions or emphasizing an action. The patterns look like these: form of do + main verb
form of do + subject + main verb … ?
I did not eat your leftover pizza!
Did = auxiliary verb; eat = main verb completing the verb phrase. Do you always accuse the first person you see?
Do = auxiliary verb; accuse = main verb completing the verb phrase. Doesn’t the evidence point to Samuel, who still has a bit of black olive stuck to his front tooth? Does = auxiliary verb; point = main verb completing the verb phrase. Understand the job of modal auxiliary verbs.
Modal auxiliary verbs never change form. You cannot add an ed, ing, or s ending to these words.Can, could, may, might, must, ought to, shall, should, will, and would have only one form. You can use modal auxiliary verbs in these patterns:
modal + main verb
modal + be + present participle
modal + have + past participle
With modal auxiliaries, you can indicate necessity or obligation: To lose her orange glow, Yvonne should eat fewer carrots.
John must remember his wife’s birthday this year.
If Cecilia wants a nice lawn, she ought to be raking the leaves. Or you can show possibility:
Fred might share his calculus homework if you offer him a slice of pizza. Ann could have run the half marathon if she had started to train four months ago. Modal auxiliaries also show willingness or ability:
Nicole will babysit your pet iguana for a reasonable fee.
Jason can pass chemistry this semester if he stops spending his study time at the arcade. Your answers were:|
1. I will have the soup| Main Verb
2. Police are investigating the incident| Main Verb
3. It is very peaceful here| Main Verb
4. Where does your brother work?| Main Verb
5. They have decided to advertise your job| Main Verb
6. He does his homework on the way to school| Main Verb Auxiliary Verb|
ReviewAuxiliary verbs always occur with a main verb, but main verbs can occur alone. So the main verbs in this exercise are in (1), (3), and (6). In (1), the main verb have has the modal auxiliary will before it. In (3), the main verb isoccurs without any auxiliary – it is a simple present tense verb, third person singular. In (6), does is a main verb, without any auxiliary.The other highlighted verbs are auxiliaries. In (2), the progressive auxiliary are comes before the main verbinvestigating.In (4), does is the present tense form, third person singular, of the dummy auxiliary do. Here it is used to form a question, and the main verb is work.In (5), have is the perfective auxiliary, and the main verb is decided.This exercise shows that the verbs be, have, and do can be both auxiliaries and main verbs. It is easy to distinguish between the two uses if you apply a replacement test. For example, in He does his homework… we can replace the main verb does with other main verbs:He does his homework… ~He writes/scribbles/loses his homework…But this does not work if the verb we’re replacing is an auxiliary:Where does your brother work? ~*Wherewrites/scribbles/loses your brother workNow try the same test with the following pair:Main Verb: I will have the soup Auxiliary Verb: They have decided to advertise…|