Passage
The brass gear of the great telescope at the Highmount Observatory had begun to slip, a minute click echoing through the dome every four minutes and twelve seconds. Dr. Julian did not look up from his ledger. He was a man who lived in the margins of his calculations, preferring the sterile certainty of numbers to the cold, unpredictable wind that swept across the peak. For three nights, I had watched him record the transit of Jupiter's moons, his pencil moving with a rhythmic scratch that competed with the ticking gear.
To the university board in the city below, Dr. Julian was a stubborn relic, clinging to mechanical lenses in an era increasingly dominated by photographic plates. They saw his refusal to modernize as sentimental vanity. But sitting in the drafty shadows of the dome, wrapping my wool scarf tighter around my throat, I knew it was not sentiment that kept him here. It was a rigorous, almost desperate belief that human eyes must witness the stars directly to validate their existence. When he finally spoke, his voice was dry, matching the parchment beneath his hands: "A photograph only captures what was there, boy. An observer captures what is happening." I nodded, though I knew my role was not to observe the stars, but to ensure that the man who did remained anchored to the earth.
Based on the passage, which of the following best describes the narrator's point of view and relationship to Dr. Julian?
- A first-person observer who respects Dr. Julian's dedication to direct observation while maintaining a practical focus on their own supportive duties.Answer
- BAn analytical author who argues that modern photographic astronomy lacks the human element present in traditional methods.
- CA critical apprentice who resents Dr. Julian's stubborn refusal to adopt modern photographic plates.
- DA detached outsider who believes both Dr. Julian and the university board are equally misguided.