2004 Paper 1 Section 2
Note the following outlines for essays , plus a complete response to No. 5.
1. ' … my strongest childhood memories …'
2. 'Everyone knows the sounds of rejection …'
3. ' … the grandeur of work …'
4.'"See you later, Paul," said one of the girls. There was a titter of laughter.'
5. ' … the rhythm of work and play …'
6. ' … the sheer joy of performance!'
1. ' … my strongest childhood memories …'
When I summon my childhood memories they appear in a strange montage of incidents and encounters, in no particular order; some funny, some significant, some poignant and some downright silly. Some I recall through a misty veil, wondering if they ever really happened, and some I recall with absolute clarity. It's strange the way they swim around in the pool of my mind, coming to the surface with no regard for significance or chronology. For instance, why do they begin with the back of my father's head as he turned a corner, disappearing from view, never to be seen again?
We had been driving to my nana's and I knew I had done a number two in my pants but I was afraid to tell him, so I just stayed quiet in the back and hoped he wouldn't smell me. We pulled in somewhere, and he told me he'd be 'just a minute' while he went to the shop. I told him I'd be fine. And I was. Until his head disappeared. Then I howled for all eternity. And when he came running back in a terrible panic, I had no problem telling him about my catastrophe. Yes, he came back. Sorry about the melodrama, but that's how things can look when you're about two.
And what melodrama there was. At an even younger age, I am told that I rambled off while my auntie Noeleen gossiped on the street with neighbours. I don't recall it but apparently I crossed four roads to get to my auntie Kay's house. I don't remember that either. But I do remember getting there because I toddled into the wrong garden and as I did so twenty dogs — yes I know, twenty! — came running at me, barking viciously, on the verge of eating me alive. I must have been small because I was on eye level with the sausage dog. (Of course there's a proper name for their breed but isn't that what everyone calls them?) Just at that second, my auntie Kay, hearing a familiar baby cry outside, appeared out of nowhere and grabbed me. A lucky escape, you might say. But were there really twenty dogs? Well, in truth, it's most unlikely that there were twenty dogs but that's what I saw when the two or three dogs came running at me. Things can look larger than life when you're standing at eye level with the sausage dog.
Poor auntie Noeleen was 'lacerated' for letting me stray. Noeleen had no children of her own, so she didn't act like a mammy all the time. This meant she was great fun to be with, was always being scolded by her elders and betters, and was very inclined to do un-grown-up things. Like the time we went walking out in the countryside and a HUGE dog came chasing us down the lane. This time it really must have been huge, because auntie Noeleen ran away screaming her head off and leaving me (at six) to fend for myself. See what I mean about not being grown-up?
From my point of view though, her childish streak had far more advantages than disadvantages. Noeleen cultivated in me an appreciation for the finer things in life — Choc Ices, 99s, Black Forest Gateaux and above all, bags of broken Kitkat. Broken Kitkat is much more exciting than boring, old normal Kitkat. Sometimes, if you're really lucky, you'll get a piece with no wafer in it. No other bar on earth tastes like it. Noeleen never told you you'd had enough sweets, and would be sick if you had any more. Her eyes would search mine and with a look of distress on her face she'd say 'I'd love another one … Would you?' All I had to do was nod. I was the excuse she needed to indulge a little more. And I never did get sick, which proves that all the other grown-ups had got it wrong.
After food, her other passion in life was cleaning. She was the only person I ever knew who cleaned concrete. After she'd cleaned the house, inside and out, she would finish by cleaning the garden path with a basin of steaming hot water and lashings of bleach. Sometimes she did the piece of street outside the railings. She was known in the community for cleaning and laughing. She could fill an arena with her raucous laugh. Her laugh was somewhere between a roar and a screech, her whole body rocking in unison with her voice.
But there wasn't just the laugh. There was the day we sat down to her delicious stew in my granny's house. It was a day like any other; plenty of jokes and laughs, Noeleen up to her usual antics, entertaining me, allowing me my rightful place in the centre of the universe. A cheesy, sentimental song came on the radio, the kind they rehash every Christmas — 'When a Child is Born'. Noeleen broke down and sobbed her heart out over her dinner. I thought it would break. A silence descended over the house and nothing more was said that day. Nothing could ever be said about her childlessness. Why do I see only black and grey when I recall that day? Could the whole day really have been that colour?
Memory seems to put its own shading on things and memory can play tricks on us. Significant occasions, key events don't always stand out. I can't remember my First Holy Communion, but I can remember the anticipation of it.
Shortly before the big day a girl in my class called Joanna Kelly told me she was getting a long dress, a tiara, a parasol, and a satin cape. I told her I was getting a short dress and nothing. Later when I informed my mother that I NEEDED a long dress with a parasol, she kindly explained to me that I wouldn't be getting these because they were common. The next day, I told Fiona I wasn't allowed to wear all the common stuff. Proud of my honesty, I reported back to my mother and just could not understand why I was suddenly in trouble. Sometimes life was just so complicated.
If I learned one thing from that incident it was that telling the truth could cause problems. Lying was wrong, but there were times when you were supposed to say nothing and times when you had to say things a different way. 'Look at the big fat woman,' was o.k. if it was said quietly, but not if the big, fat woman could hear you. The same applied to 'Oh, look at the little, tiny man.' And you weren't allowed to pick him up like a baby either. If someone offered you horrible food you could say 'No, thank you' but you couldn't say 'No, that's horrible.' Not even if they said 'Go on, go on'. And if visitors to your house refused food (something I could never understand), you couldn't say 'It's o.k., we've got loads of food.' Other forbidden phrases included: 'I'm not allowed play with you', 'You are a pig/cow', and 'Your house smells funny'. There was so much to learn that I'm amazed I ever found time to go to school.
Those are my memories of early childhood. I'm not sure what they reveal about me, and I don't know if we can ever rely on memory. At auntie Noeleen's funeral last year, the priest said she would be remembered by all for her infectious laugh and her high spirits. There was no mention of her grief. She didn't get credit for carrying her cross.
When her tears came, she would pull down the blinds, shut herself away in her house and let people think she had gone off on a holiday. How could they have known?
2. 'Everyone knows the sounds of rejection …'
You are writing an article for a serious newspaper or journal — ensure that you have the appropriate tone.
You will gain marks for having a headline and, if appropriate, sub-headings.
Connect with your readers and keep them interested.
Think about people or groups of people in society that have been rejected. You have been asked to draw attention to their plight so you should feel strongly and be relatively informed on the issue.
Possible ideas to consider: the homeless — asylum seekers — the unemployed — old people — Travellers — victims of crime — homosexual couples — victims of bullying — those who refuse to conform.
Plan your essay thoroughly and have a tight structure. Remember coherence of delivery accounts for 30 per cent of your marks.
Express yourself in a clear and eloquent manner. Remember efficiency of language use accounts for 30 per cent of your marks.
Read over your work to check it for mistakes.
3. ' … the grandeur of work …'
Think about this option — it's not as easy as it looks initially. Remember you can draw inspiration or information from these texts.
This is a speech, so address your audience immediately.
You are appealing to your own peer-group, so your tone can be more casual than a formal debate (if you wish it to be so).
Continually connect with your audience. Humour, repetition of key phrases/words and the rhetorical question is a very useful device.
Plan carefully before you begin to write your speech.
Some ideas to consider — Work:
— gives a structure to one's day
— can provide cash
— exercises the body and/or brain
— stops you from getting into trouble
— makes you feel important
— stops boredom
— helps us get into college.
Have a strong (and memorable/witty) conclusion.
4. '"See you later, Paul," said one of the girls. There was a titter of laughter.'
See general note on writing short stories.
You can use text two (or any other texts) for inspiration if you wish. You could carry on the story of Paul Morel. Remember creative modelling is not only encouraged, it is rewarded.
Plan the basics of your story. Asking questions can often aid inspiration — who, what, why, where, how?
Create atmosphere — draw the reader into the world you are creating.
Limit the time-span of your story. It is impossible to describe a character's entire life in 3-4 A4 pages!
Concentrate on one or two key characters.
Tell the story in one tense. The past tense is the most frequently used.
Create vivid images and avoid insignificant detail.
You must structure your story. Have a clear introduction, middle and conclusion.
Use all the senses to describe things for the reader.
Avoid clichéd responses.
5. ' … the rhythm of work and play …'
This assignment asks you to write an article for a magazine for young adults. Think about such magazines. Try to capture the register of these publications.
Use a headline in your article and, if appropriate, sub-headings.
Give young people advice on the best way to find a healthy balance between work and play but avoid preaching at them.
If you have achieved this in your own life, use your own life experience.
Possible ideas to consider: A study timetable - planned relaxation — ensure that part-time jobs are not affecting your academic performance — study with a friend — set realistic goals — keep a hobby — limit your television time — give yourself regular breaks — go out once a week — plan ahead — moderation is all important.
6. ' … the sheer joy of performance!'
This is a personal essay so you need to be there throughout. Use the first person.
The essay can take any form you wish. It could be a discursive essay or a short story but it must be personal. Show a little of yourself to the reader.
Remember you can use any of the texts for inspiration or information.
Have you had any personal experience of performing? If you have and you feel passionate about it, perhaps this is the essay choice for you!
Possible ideas to consider: the 'buzz' associated with performing — the audience reaction — nerves — applause — the energy of an audience — losing oneself in a part or song — ambitions — where this 'joy' originated from — performance could also be business or sports or academically related - use your imagination!
See general note on writing short stories.
Look very closely at the images in text two. Do any of them particularly interest you? Can you create a story around one or more of these images?
Use the photos to inspire you. They should not be restrictive. For instance, you can use football as your inspiration but you don't need to write about Roy Keane.
Try to take an original approach.
Spend some time perusing the photos and then spend time planning.
You might begin:
'Cut!', shouted the director, 'That's enough shooting for one day.' Suddenly the dazzling lights disappeared, the reels stopped turning and the army of gaffers, 'best boys', camera-men and hangers-on that make up a film-crew, dissipated with a magician's puff of smoke. The day's 'takes' were already being made into 'rushes' as John Beringer, Auteur avant-guarde, shook his grizzled head and blinked his weary eyes back to reality. A grunt, a roll of the burly shoulders and he was ready to face another lonely night of scrambled creativity …
Note how the open 'Cut' acts like a hand-clap to grab the reader's attention.
The use of film language creates the world of the story.
The focus on the physical form that is Beringer quickly make him 'real'.
The concept of fantasy (film) and 'back to reality' has suggested a conflict that might be explored as the story develops.
