Three AP essay questions.

Dear students: allow yourself no more than 60 minutes for the multiple choice exam. Then, if you have the stamina, try either two of the following questions in an 80 minute span, or all three in a 120 minute span. Use ink for your essays, because that's required for the actual exam.

J.D.

Question 1

(Suggested time—40 minutes. This question counts as one-third of the total essay section score.)

The following two poems present animal-eye views of the world. Read each poem carefully. Then write an essay in

which you analyze the techniques used in the poems to characterize the speakers and convey differing views of the

world.

HAWK ROOSTING

I sit in the top of the wood, my eyes closed.

Inaction, no falsifying dream

Between my hooked head and hooked feet:

Or in sleep rehearse perfect kills and eat.

5 The convenience of the high trees!

The air’s buoyancy and the sun’s ray

Are of advantage to me;

And the earth’s face upward for my inspection.

My feet are locked upon the rough bark.

10 It took the whole of Creation

To produce my foot, my each feather:

Now I hold Creation in my foot

Or fly up, and revolve it all slowly—

I kill where I please because it is all mine.

15 There is no sophistry in my body:

My manners are tearing off heads—

The allotment of death.

For the one path of my flight is direct

Through the bones of the living.

20 No arguments assert my right:

The sun is behind me.

Nothing has changed since I began.

My eye has permitted no change.

I am going to keep things like this.

—Ted Hughes

From Lupercal, by Ted Hughes.

Faber & Faber Ltd., 1960.

GOLDEN RETRIEVALS

Fetch? Balls and sticks capture my attention

seconds at a time. Catch? I don’t think so.

Bunny, tumbling leaf, a squirrel who’s—oh

joy—actually scared. Sniff the wind, then

5 I’m off again: muck, pond, ditch, residue

of any thrillingly dead thing. And you?

Either you’re sunk in the past, half our walk,

thinking of what you never can bring back,

or else you’re off in some fog concerning

10 —tomorrow, is that what you call it? My work:

to unsnare time’s warp (and woof!), retrieving,

my haze-headed friend, you. This shining bark,

a Zen master’s bronzy gong, calls you here,

entirely, now: bow-wow, bow-wow, bow-wow.

—Mark Doty

Copyright © 1998 by Mark Doty.

Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc.

Question 2

(Suggested time — 40 minutes. This question counts as one-third of the total essay section score.)

Jane Austen’s novel Northanger Abbey (1818) opens with the following passage. Read the passage carefully.

Then, in a well-organized essay, analyze the literary techniques Austen uses to characterize Catherine Morland.

No one who had ever seen Catherine Morland

in her infancy would have supposed her born to be

an heroine. Her situation in life, the character of her

father and mother, her own person and disposition,

5 were all equally against her. Her father was a

clergyman, without being neglected or poor, and

a very respectable man, though his name was

Richard, and he had never been handsome. He

had a considerable independence besides two good

10 livings,1 and he was not in the least addicted to

locking up his daughters. Her mother was a woman

of useful plain sense, with a good temper, and, what

is more remarkable, with a good constitution. She had

three sons before Catherine was born; and, instead

15 of dying in bringing the latter into the world, as

anybody might expect, she still lived on—lived to

have six children more—to see them growing up

around her, and to enjoy excellent health herself.

A family of ten children will be always called a fine

20 family, where there are heads, and arms, and legs

enough for the number; but the Morlands had little

other right to the word, for they were in general very

plain, and Catherine, for many years of her life,

as plain as any. She had a thin awkward figure,

25 a sallow skin without colour, dark lank hair, and

strong features; so much for her person, and not less

unpropitious for heroism seemed her mind. She was

fond of all boys’ play and greatly preferred cricket,

not merely to dolls, but to the more heroic enjoyments

30 of infancy, nursing a dormouse, feeding a canary-bird,

or watering a rose-bush. Indeed she had no taste for

a garden, and if she gathered flowers at all, it was

chiefly for the pleasure of mischief, at least so it was

conjectured from her always preferring those which

35 she was forbidden to take. Such were her propensities;

her abilities were quite as extraordinary. She never

could learn or understand anything before she was

taught, and sometimes not even then, for she was

often inattentive, and occasionally stupid. Her mother

40 was three months in teaching her only to repeat the

“Beggar’s Petition,” and, after all, her next sister Sally

could say it better than she did. Not that Catherine

was always stupid; by no means; she learnt the fable

of “The Hare and many Friends,” as quickly as any

45 girl in England. Her mother wished her to learn

music; and Catherine was sure she should like it,

for she was very fond of tinkling the keys of the old

forlorn spinnet,2 so at eight years old she began. She

learnt a year and could not bear it; and Mrs. Morland,

50 who did not insist on her daughters being accomplished

in spite of incapacity or distaste, allowed her

to leave off. The day which dismissed the musicmaster

was one of the happiest of Catherine’s life.

Her taste for drawing was not superior; though

55 whenever she could obtain the outside of a letter

from her mother, or seize upon any other odd piece

of paper, she did what she could in that way by

drawing houses and trees, hens and chickens, all

very much like one another. Writing and accounts

60 she was taught by her father; French by her mother.

Her proficiency in either was not remarkable, and she

shirked her lessons in both whenever she could. What

a strange unaccountable character! for with all these

symptoms of profligacy at ten years old, she had

65 neither a bad heart nor a bad temper, was seldom

stubborn, scarcely ever quarrelsome, and very kind

to the little ones, with few interruptions of tyranny.

She was, moreover, noisy and wild, hated confinement

and cleanliness, and loved nothing so well in

70 the world as rolling down the green slope at the back

of the house.

1 Incomes or endowments

2 Piano

Question 3

(Suggested time—40 minutes. This question counts as one-third of the total essay section score.)

In some works of literature, childhood and adolescence are portrayed as times graced by innocence and a sense

of wonder; in other works, they are depicted as times of tribulation and terror. Focusing on a single novel or play,

explain how its representation of childhood or adolescence shapes the meaning of the work as a whole.

You may select a work from the list below or choose another appropriate novel or play of similar literary merit.

Avoid mere plot summary.

The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn

Black Boy

Bless Me, Ultima

The Bluest Eye

The Catcher in the Rye

Cat’s Eye

The Chosen

Great Expectations

A High Wind in Jamaica

The House on Mango Street

Jane Eyre

Kafka on the Shore

Little Women

Lord of the Flies

“Master Harold” . . . and the boys

The Member of the Wedding

My Ántonia

Native Speaker

Old School

Pocho

A Portrait of the Artist As a Young Man

The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie

The Red Badge of Courage

A River Runs Through It

Romeo and Juliet

Sula

To Kill a Mockingbird

To the Lighthouse

Tom Jones

The Turn of the Screw

Wide Sargasso Sea

Woman Warrior

Wuthering Heights

Post group reports here

Below are the instructions I gave the class this morning. Post your group findings here and we'll discuss them more fully next week (though we may be short some people due to AP exams).

Hope you got the 2004 multiple choice exam. To give you the full experience, I'm going to post three essay questions from a recent exam just after I publish this one.

Dostoevsky was aware of two structural elements that could shape his narrative

· fabula: the time sequence of action

· siuzhet: the artistic manipulation of the narrative

So Raskolnikov’s encounter with the pawnbroker, with Marmeladov, with the young girl on the street—the letter from his mother—the dream—the mention of Razumikhin—the daydream of an oasis—all have significance.

Today, in groups:

· Finish what we started with Raskolnikov. Gather and note evidence that serves to answer the question: “Who best represents the true Raskolnikov—the cynical one who rues his acts of kindness and care, the brutal Mikolka who beats the horse, the innocent child who kisses the beaten horse?”

· Examine Marmeladov and his “confession.” Develop a comprehensive catalog of the man’s character. Is he good or bad? Why and how does he fail? Why the elaborate speech and the details of his degradation? He seems to enjoy some aspects of it (note his prediction that Katerina will drag him by his hair: his anticipation of it and his reaction when it does happen). Does he wish to “crucify” himself? Looking ahead to his death, is there anything significant by way of siuzhet

· Examine Pulcheria’s letter to her son. What do we learn of her character and her relations with her son by its wording and expression? What is her real assessment of Luzhin, and by what means does she convey it? Rodion engages in a rambling soliloquy that expresses his ultimate reaction and policy. What are they?

· Why does he determine to visit Razumikhin only after “that” is finished?

· Why the nasty smile when he finishes the letter? How does his encounter with his sister and mother upon their first meeting in St. Petersburg echo his tears and his smirk?

· What is the significance of the “waking dream” of the oasis that precedes his feverish preparations for murder. He winds up late for the murder that, in part because of the overheard conversation, he believes is predestined. Why is he late? What does this “dream” signify.

A dream, a sleep & a bedroom

You'll recall we re-read the first two paragraphs of Part I, Ch. 3 describing Raskolnikov's "closet" or garret apartment, and also the section of I, 5 detailing his dream when he falls asleep on the grass of Vasilievsky Island.

I asked you to think like a psychologist. What state of mind is likely to arise from isolation in so wretched an environment as Rodya's closet? What multi-syllable word does the narrator attach to our protagonist? Why? what does it mean?

How would you interpret & diagnose Rodya's dream? Be comprehensive—consider the extreme amount of detail, the characterization of the horse and the driver (not to mention the driver's name), the role that the boy Rodya plays…

Now consider both passages from the standpoint of a sophisticated reader. Why did the writer Dostoevsky place them where he did? This is a psychological novel, among other things. What could Rodya's room symbolize? If the horse can be identified with Lizaveta, what does that dual identity signify for our protagonist, and where does it point for his ultimate awakening?

I'll hold essays and notes back until Tuesday

Students,

I’ve thought it over and decided to give all essays back Monday, and spend time with suggestions as well. I think I’ll keep them all so that I can note specific examples for you and make the period more worthwhile.

J.D.

“Dover Beach” & “Churchgoing”

We’ve been taking poems two at a time with a comparative essay in mind—each pair thematically linked. How about Matthew Arnold’s poem and Philip Larkin’s poem? Do they reflect the same outlook? What are they “about”? What do you think the tone of each poem is, and how does it influence interpretation?

And since we are listening especially for musical sounds (not all music is “beautiful”) and rhythm, consider those things as well as you answer these questions.

Work is due by Tuesday’s class.

Dover Beach

The sea is calm tonight.

The tide is full, the moon lies fair

Upon the straits;—on the French coast the light

Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand,

Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay.

Come to the window, sweet is the night air!

Only, from the long line of spray

Where the sea meets the moon-blanched land,

Listen! you hear the grating roar

Of pebbles which the waves draw back, and fling,

At their return, up the high strand,

Begin, and cease, and then again begin,

With tremulous cadence slow, and bring

The eternal note of sadness in.

Sophocles long ago

Heard it on the Aegean, and it brought

Into his mind the turbid ebb and flow

Of human misery; we

Find also in the sound a thought,

Hearing it by this distant northern sea.

The Sea of Faith

Was once, too, at the full, and round earth's shore

Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furled.

But now I only hear

Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar,

Retreating, to the breath

Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear

And naked shingles of the world.

Ah, love, let us be true

To one another! for the world, which seems

To lie before us like a land of dreams,

So various, so beautiful, so new,

Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,

Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;

And we here as on a darkling plain

Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,

Where ignorant armies clash by night.

—Matthew Arnold

Questions

1. Vocabulary: strand (11), girdle (23), darkling (35). Identify the physical locale of the cliffs of Dover and their relation to the French coast; identify the Aegean and Sophocles.

2. As precisely as possible, define the implied scene: What is the speaker’s physical location? Whom is he addressing? What is the time of day and the state of the weather?

3. Discuss the visual and auditory images of the poem and their relation to illusion and reality?

4. The speaker is lamenting the decline of religious faith in his time. Is he himself a believer? Does he see any medicine for the world’s maladies?

5. Discuss in detail the imagery in the last three lines. Are the “armies” figurative or literal? What makes these lines so effective?

6. What term or terms would you choose to describe the overall tone of the poem?

Philip Larkin - Church Going

Once I am sure there's nothing going on

I step inside, letting the door thud shut.

Another church: matting, seats, and stone,

And little books; sprawlings of flowers, cut

For Sunday, brownish now; some brass and stuff

Up at the holy end; the small neat organ;

And a tense, musty, unignorable silence,

Brewed God knows how long. Hatless, I take off

My cycle-clips in awkward reverence.

Move forward, run my hand around the font.

From where I stand, the roof looks almost new -

Cleaned, or restored? Someone would know: I don't.

Mounting the lectern, I peruse a few

Hectoring large-scale verses, and pronounce

'Here endeth' much more loudly than I'd meant.

The echoes snigger briefly. Back at the door

I sign the book, donate an Irish sixpence,

Reflect the place was not worth stopping for.

Yet stop I did: in fact I often do,

And always end much at a loss like this,

Wondering what to look for; wondering, too,

When churches will fall completely out of use

What we shall turn them into, if we shall keep

A few cathedrals chronically on show,

Their parchment, plate and pyx in locked cases,

And let the rest rent-free to rain and sheep.

Shall we avoid them as unlucky places?

Or, after dark, will dubious women come

To make their children touch a particular stone;

Pick simples for a cancer; or on some

Advised night see walking a dead one?

Power of some sort will go on

In games, in riddles, seemingly at random;

But superstition, like belief, must die,

And what remains when disbelief has gone?

Grass, weedy pavement, brambles, buttress, sky,

A shape less recognisable each week,

A purpose more obscure. I wonder who

Will be the last, the very last, to seek

This place for what it was; one of the crew

That tap and jot and know what rood-lofts were?

Some ruin-bibber, randy for antique,

Or Christmas-addict, counting on a whiff

Of gown-and-bands and organ-pipes and myrrh?

Or will he be my representative,

Bored, uninformed, knowing the ghostly silt

Dispersed, yet tending to this cross of ground

Through suburb scrub because it held unspilt

So long and equably what since is found

Only in separation - marriage, and birth,

And death, and thoughts of these - for which was built

This special shell? For, though I've no idea

What this accoutred frowsty barn is worth,

It pleases me to stand in silence here;

A serious house on serious earth it is,

In whose blent air all our compulsions meet,

Are recognized, and robed as destinies.

And that much never can be obsolete,

Since someone will forever be surprising

A hunger in himself to be more serious,

And gravitating with it to this ground,

Which, he once heard, was proper to grow wise in,

If only that so many dead lie round.

1. Vocabulary: Hectoring (14), dubious (28), simples (30), accoutered (53), frowsty (53), blent (56). Large-scale (14) indicates a print size suited to oral reading; an Irish sixpence (17) was a small coin not legal tender in England, the scene of the poem; rood-lofts (41) are architectural features found in many early Christian churches; bibber and randy (42) are figurative, literally meaning “drunkard” and “lustful”; gown-and-bands (44) are ornate robes worn by church officials in religious ceremonies.

2. Like “Dover Beach” (first published in 1867), “Church Going” (1954) is concerned with belief and disbelief. In modern England the landscape is dotted with small churches, often charming in their combination of stone and badly in need of repair, and some are well tended by parishioners who keep them dusted and provide fresh flowers for the diminishing attendance at Sunday services. These churches invariably have by the entrance a book that visitors can sign as a record of their having been there and a collection box with a sign urging them to drop in a few coins for upkeep, repair, or restoration. In small towns and villages the church is often the chief or only building of architectural or historical interest, and tourist visitors may outnumber parishioners. To which of the three categories of churches mentioned here does Larkin’s poem refer?

3. What different denotations does the title contain?

4. IN what activity has the speaker been engaging when he stops to see the church? How is it revealed? Why does he stop? Is he a believer? How involved is he in inspecting this church building?

5. Compare the language used by the speakers in “Dover Beach” and Church Going”. Which speaker is more eloquent? Which is more informal and conversational? Without looking back at the texts, try to assign the following words to one poem or the other: moon-blanched, cycle-clips, darkling, hath, snigger, whiff, drear, brownish, tremulous, glimmering, frowsty, stuff. Then go back and check your success.

6. Define the tone of “Church Going” as precisely as possible. Compare this tone to that of “Dover Beach”.