Remember:
Paper 1 Commentary
1. The central focus of your written commentary is the author's purpose and how he/she achieves it.
2. You comment on lexis(vocabulary/diction), figures of speech, structure (grammar, tense, participles, punctuation, sentence length).
3. Write in commentary sentences which: i)identify ii)quote iii)comment on the effect of the language used.
Paper 1 Directed Writing
1. Write in the same genre as the original piece.
2. Use features which you identified whilst writing your commentary.
Paper 2.
1. Spend one hour on section A and one hour on section B.
2. Write in the correct genre: do not mix up narrative and descriptive writing.
Friday, September 24, 2010
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Exam Advice
Paper 1.
Remember time management is very important. For each question spend 15 minutes reading and analysing, 30 minutes writing the commentary, then 15 minutes on the directed writing task.
For the commentary:
Paragraph 1 - genre, audience, purpose, tone
Other paragraphs - comment on how the author achieves his purpose. Use commentary sentences (identify, quote, comment).
Comment on vocabulary, language features, structure.
Review EAS book Chapters 1-5.
Paper 2.
Spend on ehour on each section and try to write 750 words.
Section A - select the CONTRAST question. Review Ghastly Blank, Cannery Row, Interior Monologue, The Innocents, Estha.
Section B - remember all the work we did on GP.
There are two types of discursive essay:
1. Opinion
2. For and against
For the opinion one: In the introduction, immediately state your opinion and then relate it to the topic. Then show how your paragraphing will be.
Write a number of body paragraphs each discussing a sub-topic outlined in the intro. For each of these have two supporting points.
Write a conclusion which reviews the main points and answers the initial quastion (i.e. re-stating your opinion and summarising the reasons).
For the for and against one: Introduction - state the importance of the topic, relate it to the topic title and show your paragraphing.
For the body paragraphs - write 2 or three detailing reasons for and two or three detailing reasons against the topic. For each paragraph have two supporting points.
Write a conclusion which summarises the main points, answers any question given in the title, and states your opinion.
We've did loads of work on this in term 2 -revise it
Remember time management is very important. For each question spend 15 minutes reading and analysing, 30 minutes writing the commentary, then 15 minutes on the directed writing task.
For the commentary:
Paragraph 1 - genre, audience, purpose, tone
Other paragraphs - comment on how the author achieves his purpose. Use commentary sentences (identify, quote, comment).
Comment on vocabulary, language features, structure.
Review EAS book Chapters 1-5.
Paper 2.
Spend on ehour on each section and try to write 750 words.
Section A - select the CONTRAST question. Review Ghastly Blank, Cannery Row, Interior Monologue, The Innocents, Estha.
Section B - remember all the work we did on GP.
There are two types of discursive essay:
1. Opinion
2. For and against
For the opinion one: In the introduction, immediately state your opinion and then relate it to the topic. Then show how your paragraphing will be.
Write a number of body paragraphs each discussing a sub-topic outlined in the intro. For each of these have two supporting points.
Write a conclusion which reviews the main points and answers the initial quastion (i.e. re-stating your opinion and summarising the reasons).
For the for and against one: Introduction - state the importance of the topic, relate it to the topic title and show your paragraphing.
For the body paragraphs - write 2 or three detailing reasons for and two or three detailing reasons against the topic. For each paragraph have two supporting points.
Write a conclusion which summarises the main points, answers any question given in the title, and states your opinion.
We've did loads of work on this in term 2 -revise it
Estha Sample Directed Writing
The people in the houses knew better than to talk to Estha. For some, fear prompted them to avert their look, to purse tight their lips, at the sight of him. Invisible people. Ghosts. For others it was even easier. They hadn't seen him at all. Propriety, good taste, social necessity empowered them to look through Estha. He became part of the riverbank. Part of the decor of the wedding cake houses with their twin tiers of white rooms. Sugar houses. Invisible Estha. And then there were the people who sensed Estha's otherwise, that he carried a knowledge which they would never share. His silence was deafening to them. It smelted of foreboding and suffering. It spoke to them of a life which both fascinated and repelled them.
Estha Sample Commentary
Immediate sympathy is evoked for Estha because no one could remember even the year that he stopped talkinq. This seems incredible to the reader. 'No one' is vague and suggests no particular adults, in particular parents, were looking after him. The non¬sentence 'stopped talking altogether' shows that he had hardly ever spoken even before he became silent. The metaphors ‘winding down' and `closing shop' suggest, firstly, a clock which is going more and more slowly and is in need of a re-wind. Secondly of a shop which is shutting for the holidays. Estha’s ‘barely noticeable quitening’ suggests a stopping in Estha. The repetition of ‘never' with ‘awkward’ and ‘intrusive’ show the total lack of effect he had on others around him. ‘Never noisy` emphasises his silence, his blending into the background; an effect that is also created by the short non-sentences which, barely communicative themselves, are something like Estha. The metaphor of the 'dry season' is effective to describe Estha's silence, as later the river banks are mentioned as being one of Estha's walking places.
The reader sympathises with Estha in the second paragraph when he is described as being of such little importance that he was 'almost invisible to the untrained eye'. This makes him seem like a rare biological or botanical creature, less than a human being. The fact the some people failed to notice him at all adds to our sympathy for him.
Estha's 'mediocre' exam results create sympathy, as does his being an outsider who likes to do work stereotypically done by the opposite sex. Obviously he has qualities which evoke sympathy in others, for example the bazaar vendors, and this in turn evokes the reader's sympathy. He is an outsider who stands apart from other customers; he doesn't bargain. In turn he has an innocence or simplicity which causes the vendors to look after him, to treat him with a tenderness not reserved for others (the gifts of coriander and chillies), which transmits itself to the reader. The fact that Estha is withdrawn from society is shown in the metaphor 'quiet bubble floating on a sea of noise'. A bubble, like Estha, is fragile, and a sea is vast, and so the noise on the tram is shown in contrast to Estha's quietness; too much noise might destroy him, unless he is able to keep detached from it.
Many metaphors are used in the next paragraph to describe Estha's silence. It is something growing inside his head which embraces him like a friend or lover, thus giving him comfort. However, 'swampy' introduces a sinister connotation, and is linked to the idea of the river already mentioned. The silence also cradles him like a baby; thus the security which he finds in silence is emphasised. It becomes an octopus-tike creature with 'tentacles' which 'inch' and are 'stealthy'; and so again there is a sinister overtone, as if the silence will eventually be harmful to Estha. The metaphor of the vacuum cleaner removing memories from Estha suggests that these memories are debris and therefore undesirable or even harmful. Personification is also used in this paragraph. Silence is personified in 'sent', 'dislodging', 'whisking' and 'stripped', making it seem that Estha is defenceless against the power of silence. The single-word sentences 'Unspeakable' and 'Numb' emphasise this. The metaphor of the octopus is powerful. It also represents Estha's silence, which stretches around his mind as an octopus might stretch its tentacles; the 'inky tranquiliiser' of silence helps him to forget the past in the same way as an octopus emits a dark liquid to confuse and scare away its assailants.
The reference to Estha's unfortunate dog in the next paragraph heightens our sympathy for Estha; to lose this ally seems a cruel blow to someone already in distress himself, and we are sympathetic to someone who would nurse a sick animal, as Estha does. The picture of Estha as the lone walker, without companionship, gains the reader's sympathy. The simile of the fisherman with secrets makes Estha seem like an outsider in his society, as a fisherman would be in a city.
The final paragraph describes the houses Estha sees on his walks. The houses of 'nurses ... and bank clerks' are described metaphorically as if they were fancy cakes, which shows how attractive and ornate they are. The 'older' houses are personified as being 'green with envy' of the other houses and 'cowering'. Thus the contrast in the areas walked through by Estha makes us sympathise with him as it stresses how isolated he is from every social grouping and their petty material concerns.
The reader sympathises with Estha in the second paragraph when he is described as being of such little importance that he was 'almost invisible to the untrained eye'. This makes him seem like a rare biological or botanical creature, less than a human being. The fact the some people failed to notice him at all adds to our sympathy for him.
Estha's 'mediocre' exam results create sympathy, as does his being an outsider who likes to do work stereotypically done by the opposite sex. Obviously he has qualities which evoke sympathy in others, for example the bazaar vendors, and this in turn evokes the reader's sympathy. He is an outsider who stands apart from other customers; he doesn't bargain. In turn he has an innocence or simplicity which causes the vendors to look after him, to treat him with a tenderness not reserved for others (the gifts of coriander and chillies), which transmits itself to the reader. The fact that Estha is withdrawn from society is shown in the metaphor 'quiet bubble floating on a sea of noise'. A bubble, like Estha, is fragile, and a sea is vast, and so the noise on the tram is shown in contrast to Estha's quietness; too much noise might destroy him, unless he is able to keep detached from it.
Many metaphors are used in the next paragraph to describe Estha's silence. It is something growing inside his head which embraces him like a friend or lover, thus giving him comfort. However, 'swampy' introduces a sinister connotation, and is linked to the idea of the river already mentioned. The silence also cradles him like a baby; thus the security which he finds in silence is emphasised. It becomes an octopus-tike creature with 'tentacles' which 'inch' and are 'stealthy'; and so again there is a sinister overtone, as if the silence will eventually be harmful to Estha. The metaphor of the vacuum cleaner removing memories from Estha suggests that these memories are debris and therefore undesirable or even harmful. Personification is also used in this paragraph. Silence is personified in 'sent', 'dislodging', 'whisking' and 'stripped', making it seem that Estha is defenceless against the power of silence. The single-word sentences 'Unspeakable' and 'Numb' emphasise this. The metaphor of the octopus is powerful. It also represents Estha's silence, which stretches around his mind as an octopus might stretch its tentacles; the 'inky tranquiliiser' of silence helps him to forget the past in the same way as an octopus emits a dark liquid to confuse and scare away its assailants.
The reference to Estha's unfortunate dog in the next paragraph heightens our sympathy for Estha; to lose this ally seems a cruel blow to someone already in distress himself, and we are sympathetic to someone who would nurse a sick animal, as Estha does. The picture of Estha as the lone walker, without companionship, gains the reader's sympathy. The simile of the fisherman with secrets makes Estha seem like an outsider in his society, as a fisherman would be in a city.
The final paragraph describes the houses Estha sees on his walks. The houses of 'nurses ... and bank clerks' are described metaphorically as if they were fancy cakes, which shows how attractive and ornate they are. The 'older' houses are personified as being 'green with envy' of the other houses and 'cowering'. Thus the contrast in the areas walked through by Estha makes us sympathise with him as it stresses how isolated he is from every social grouping and their petty material concerns.
Friday, March 12, 2010
THE AGED AGED MAN by Lewis Carroll
The Aged Aged Man
by Lewis Carroll
I'll tell thee everything I can;
There's little to relate.
I saw an aged aged man,
A-sitting on a gate.
"Who are you, aged man?" I said,"
And how is it you live?
"And his answer trickled through my head
Like water through a sieve.
He said, "I look for butterflies
That sleep among the wheat:
I make them into mutton-pies,
And sell them in the street.
I sell them unto men," he said,
"Who sail on stormy seas;
And that's the way I get my bread -
A trifle; if you please."
But I was thinking of a plan
To dye one's whiskers green,
And always use so large a fan
That they could not be seen.
So, having no reply to give
To what the old man said, I cried,
"Come, tell me how you live!
"And thumped him on the head.
His accents mild took up the tale:
He said, "I go my ways,
And when I find a mountain-rill,I set it in a blaze;
And thence they make a stuff they call
Rowland's Macassar-Oil -
Yet twopence-halfpenny is all
They give me for my toil."
But I was thinking of a way
To feed oneself on batter,
And so go on from day to day
Getting a little fatter.
I shook him well from side to side,
Until his face was blue:
"Come, tell me how you live," I cried,
"And what it is you do!"
He said, "I hunt for haddocks' eyes
Among the heather bright,And work them into waistcoat buttons
In the silent night.
And these I do not sell for gold
Or coin of silvery shine,
But for a copper halfpenny,
And that will purchase nine.
"I sometimes dig for buttered rolls,
Or set limed twigs for crabs;
I sometimes search the grassy knolls
For wheels of hansom-cabs.
And that's the way" (he gave a wink)"
By which I get my wealth -
And very gladly will I drink
Your Honour's noble health."
I heard him then, for I had just
Completed my design
To keep the Menai bridge from rust
By boiling it in wine.
I thanked him much for telling me
The way he got his wealth,
But chiefly for his wish that he
Might drink my noble health.
And now, if e'er by chance
I putMy fingers into glue,
Or madly squeeze a right-hand foot
Into a left-hand shoe,
Or if I drop upon my toe
A very heavy weight,
I weep, for it reminds me so
Of that old man I used to know -
Whose look was mild, whose speech was slow,
Whose hair was whiter than the snow,
Whose face was very like a crow,
With eyes, like cinders, all aglow,
Who seemed distracted with his woe,
Who rocked his body to and fro,
And muttered mumblingly and low,
As if his mouth were full of dough,
Who snorted like a buffalo -
That summer evening long ago
A-sitting on a gate.
by Lewis Carroll
I'll tell thee everything I can;
There's little to relate.
I saw an aged aged man,
A-sitting on a gate.
"Who are you, aged man?" I said,"
And how is it you live?
"And his answer trickled through my head
Like water through a sieve.
He said, "I look for butterflies
That sleep among the wheat:
I make them into mutton-pies,
And sell them in the street.
I sell them unto men," he said,
"Who sail on stormy seas;
And that's the way I get my bread -
A trifle; if you please."
But I was thinking of a plan
To dye one's whiskers green,
And always use so large a fan
That they could not be seen.
So, having no reply to give
To what the old man said, I cried,
"Come, tell me how you live!
"And thumped him on the head.
His accents mild took up the tale:
He said, "I go my ways,
And when I find a mountain-rill,I set it in a blaze;
And thence they make a stuff they call
Rowland's Macassar-Oil -
Yet twopence-halfpenny is all
They give me for my toil."
But I was thinking of a way
To feed oneself on batter,
And so go on from day to day
Getting a little fatter.
I shook him well from side to side,
Until his face was blue:
"Come, tell me how you live," I cried,
"And what it is you do!"
He said, "I hunt for haddocks' eyes
Among the heather bright,And work them into waistcoat buttons
In the silent night.
And these I do not sell for gold
Or coin of silvery shine,
But for a copper halfpenny,
And that will purchase nine.
"I sometimes dig for buttered rolls,
Or set limed twigs for crabs;
I sometimes search the grassy knolls
For wheels of hansom-cabs.
And that's the way" (he gave a wink)"
By which I get my wealth -
And very gladly will I drink
Your Honour's noble health."
I heard him then, for I had just
Completed my design
To keep the Menai bridge from rust
By boiling it in wine.
I thanked him much for telling me
The way he got his wealth,
But chiefly for his wish that he
Might drink my noble health.
And now, if e'er by chance
I putMy fingers into glue,
Or madly squeeze a right-hand foot
Into a left-hand shoe,
Or if I drop upon my toe
A very heavy weight,
I weep, for it reminds me so
Of that old man I used to know -
Whose look was mild, whose speech was slow,
Whose hair was whiter than the snow,
Whose face was very like a crow,
With eyes, like cinders, all aglow,
Who seemed distracted with his woe,
Who rocked his body to and fro,
And muttered mumblingly and low,
As if his mouth were full of dough,
Who snorted like a buffalo -
That summer evening long ago
A-sitting on a gate.
Your journey to school in the style of Durrell - BRILLIANT work by Rasyidah
Journey To School With My Ani-car
When I walk out my front door, my cheetah rises up from its previous Spinx-like pose, a deadpan expression on his face as if to say ‘Took you long enough’ mockingly at me, all geared up and ready for the day. He greets me with a soft growl, as though he is warning me that I better not have left anything behind. It is how we always start our mornings, my easily-exasperated cheetah and I.
We immediately take off as soon as I have climbed aboard, with me clamping my legs against him and hugging my things tightly in a desperate effort to not be thrown overboard. We sprint swiftly along the hissing road, which seems more than a little eager to be rid of us. Occasionally, we have to stop at the red-lighted teasings of the irritating traffic lights, waiting impatiently to just dash away when the infuriating annoyances would finally give up their tasteless jokes. Apart from the law-abiding pauses we are required to make, we mostly just weave through the jungle of morning traffic, with an assortment of other animals racing with us against the clock to school.
Horses gallop near the front of the crowd, birds glide on air-currents above our heads, snakes slither between the feet of their competitors and each other, getting themselves hopelessly entangled. Elephants thump their way through the bestial mass of the traffic, shaking the roads and thus making it harder for us to move on the earthquaked roads. There are also ants in the traffic, each of them carrying a cluster of about five children. Rabbits hop along with all of us, sometimes managing to jump onto and from the heads of the other animals. Cats prowl silently alongside the horde, making use of any nooks, crannies and whatever space available to move ahead of their contenders. My trusty and road-worthy cheetah easily manages to pass all of them, taking the lead.
Though that cheetah of mine always complains about my tardiness of causing our need to rush, I can tell that he secretly enjoys our impromptu morning races and that beating those animals stroke his pride in his speed. I, on the other hand, am just grateful that his extraordinary speed gets me to school on time though I do wish he could be a bit less cocky about it.
-Rasyidah Abdullah, A4, Block 1.
When I walk out my front door, my cheetah rises up from its previous Spinx-like pose, a deadpan expression on his face as if to say ‘Took you long enough’ mockingly at me, all geared up and ready for the day. He greets me with a soft growl, as though he is warning me that I better not have left anything behind. It is how we always start our mornings, my easily-exasperated cheetah and I.
We immediately take off as soon as I have climbed aboard, with me clamping my legs against him and hugging my things tightly in a desperate effort to not be thrown overboard. We sprint swiftly along the hissing road, which seems more than a little eager to be rid of us. Occasionally, we have to stop at the red-lighted teasings of the irritating traffic lights, waiting impatiently to just dash away when the infuriating annoyances would finally give up their tasteless jokes. Apart from the law-abiding pauses we are required to make, we mostly just weave through the jungle of morning traffic, with an assortment of other animals racing with us against the clock to school.
Horses gallop near the front of the crowd, birds glide on air-currents above our heads, snakes slither between the feet of their competitors and each other, getting themselves hopelessly entangled. Elephants thump their way through the bestial mass of the traffic, shaking the roads and thus making it harder for us to move on the earthquaked roads. There are also ants in the traffic, each of them carrying a cluster of about five children. Rabbits hop along with all of us, sometimes managing to jump onto and from the heads of the other animals. Cats prowl silently alongside the horde, making use of any nooks, crannies and whatever space available to move ahead of their contenders. My trusty and road-worthy cheetah easily manages to pass all of them, taking the lead.
Though that cheetah of mine always complains about my tardiness of causing our need to rush, I can tell that he secretly enjoys our impromptu morning races and that beating those animals stroke his pride in his speed. I, on the other hand, am just grateful that his extraordinary speed gets me to school on time though I do wish he could be a bit less cocky about it.
-Rasyidah Abdullah, A4, Block 1.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Inversnaid by Gerard Manley Hopkins - how do the sounds of the words create the movement of water?
Inversnaid by Gerard Manley Hopkins
THIS darksome burn, horseback brown,
His rollrock highroad roaring down,
In coop and in comb the fleece of his foam
Flutes and low to the lake falls home.
A windpuff-bonnet of fáwn-fróth
Turns and twindles over the broth
Of a pool so pitchblack, féll-frówning,
It rounds and rounds Despair to drowning.
Degged with dew, dappled with dew
Are the groins of the braes that the brook treads through,
Wiry heathpacks, flitches of fern,
And the beadbonny ash that sits over the burn.
THIS darksome burn, horseback brown,
His rollrock highroad roaring down,
In coop and in comb the fleece of his foam
Flutes and low to the lake falls home.
A windpuff-bonnet of fáwn-fróth
Turns and twindles over the broth
Of a pool so pitchblack, féll-frówning,
It rounds and rounds Despair to drowning.
Degged with dew, dappled with dew
Are the groins of the braes that the brook treads through,
Wiry heathpacks, flitches of fern,
And the beadbonny ash that sits over the burn.
Cargoes by John Masefield - how do the sounds of the words create the movement of the ships?
Cargoes by John Masefield
Quinquireme of Nineveh from distant Ophir,
Rowing home to haven in sunny Palestine,
With a cargo of ivory,
And apes and peacocks,
Sandalwood, cedarwood, and sweet white wine.
Stately Spanish galleon coming from the Isthmus,
Dipping through the Tropics by the palm-green shores,
With a cargo of diamonds,
Emeralds, amythysts,
Topazes, and cinnamon, and gold moidores.
Dirty British coaster with a salt-caked smoke stack,
Butting through the Channel in the mad March days,
With a cargo of Tyne coal,
Road-rails, pig-lead,
Firewood, iron-ware, and cheap tin trays.
Quinquireme of Nineveh from distant Ophir,
Rowing home to haven in sunny Palestine,
With a cargo of ivory,
And apes and peacocks,
Sandalwood, cedarwood, and sweet white wine.
Stately Spanish galleon coming from the Isthmus,
Dipping through the Tropics by the palm-green shores,
With a cargo of diamonds,
Emeralds, amythysts,
Topazes, and cinnamon, and gold moidores.
Dirty British coaster with a salt-caked smoke stack,
Butting through the Channel in the mad March days,
With a cargo of Tyne coal,
Road-rails, pig-lead,
Firewood, iron-ware, and cheap tin trays.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Sample commentary on Shanghai Childhood: be sure you have a written copy of it
The writer's purpose is to look back on childhood in a nostalgic, sometimes rather comical way. It is incongruous to describe a 'mound` as having a 'summit'. This shows that to small children a slight incline in a garden seems like a mountain. The writer concedes that his memory is exaggerated in the phrases 'even at the time' and 'hardly matched': he acknowledges the 'splendour' of the houses round the corner, which are described as 'residences' rather than merely houses.
A comical picture of little boys is created. Their game is only running about in a garden and yet they are 'worn ... out' and are 'panting', in need of a rest. The gap between childhood and adulthood for the writer is shown in the words 'around six years old'; he does not have an exact memory because it was a long time ago. Nostalgia is created in his closing his eyes 'to bring back that picture', consciously trying to evoke the past. His parents' nostalgia for the England they have left behind is shown in their weak attempt to re-create an 'English' lawn; the inverted commas show their attempt is not entirely successful in the climate of Shanghai.
A comical picture of little boys is created. Their game is only running about in a garden and yet they are 'worn ... out' and are 'panting', in need of a rest. The gap between childhood and adulthood for the writer is shown in the words 'around six years old'; he does not have an exact memory because it was a long time ago. Nostalgia is created in his closing his eyes 'to bring back that picture', consciously trying to evoke the past. His parents' nostalgia for the England they have left behind is shown in their weak attempt to re-create an 'English' lawn; the inverted commas show their attempt is not entirely successful in the climate of Shanghai.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
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