CSSA English aos paper 1 (2 Viewers)
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Drsoccerball
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What was the essay question and the short story stimulus ahahah ?
astroman
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Couldn't find the first one or last but found this one
Voice
by Margaret Atwood
I was given a voice. That’s what people said about me. I cultivated my voice, because it would be a shame to waste such a gift. I pictured this voice as a hothouse plant, something luxuriant, with glossy foliage and the word tuberous in the name, and a musky scent at night. I made sure the voice was provided with the right temperature, the right degree of humidity, the right ambience. I soothed its fears; I told it not to tremble. I nurtured it, I trained it, I watched it climb up inside my neck like a vine.
The voice bloomed. People said I had grown into my voice. Soon I was sought after, or rather my voice was. We went everywhere together. What people saw was me, what I saw was my voice, ballooning out in front of me like the translucent greenish membrane of a frog in full trill.
My voice was courted. Banquets were thrown to it. Money was bestowed on it. Men fell on their knees before it. Applause flew around it like flocks of red birds.
Invitations to perform cascaded over us. All the best places wanted us, and all at once, for, as people said – though not to me – my voice would thrive only for a certain term. Then, as voices do, it would begin to shrivel. Finally it would drop off, and I would be left alone, denuded – a dead shrub, a footnote.
It’s begun to happen, the shrivelling. Only I have noticed it so far. There’s the barest pucker in my voice, the barest wrinkle. Fear has entered me, a needleful of ether, constricting what in someone else would be my heart.
Now it’s evening; the neon lights come on, excitement quickens in the streets. We sit in this hotel room, my voice and I; or rather in this hotel suite, because it’s still nothing but the best for us. We’re gathering our strength together. How much of my life do I have left? Leftover, that is: my voice has used up most of it. I’ve given it all my love, but it’s only a voice, it can never love me in return.
Although it’s begun to decay, my voice is still as greedy as ever. Greedier: it wants more, more and more, more of everything it’s had so far. It won’t let go of me easily.
Soon it will be time for us to go out. We’ll attend a luminous occasion, the two of us, chained together as always. I’ll put on its favorite dress, its favorite necklace. I’ll wind a fur around it, to protect it from the drafts. Then we’ll descend to the foyer, glittering like ice, my voice attached like an invisible vampire to my throat.
Voice
by Margaret Atwood
I was given a voice. That’s what people said about me. I cultivated my voice, because it would be a shame to waste such a gift. I pictured this voice as a hothouse plant, something luxuriant, with glossy foliage and the word tuberous in the name, and a musky scent at night. I made sure the voice was provided with the right temperature, the right degree of humidity, the right ambience. I soothed its fears; I told it not to tremble. I nurtured it, I trained it, I watched it climb up inside my neck like a vine.
The voice bloomed. People said I had grown into my voice. Soon I was sought after, or rather my voice was. We went everywhere together. What people saw was me, what I saw was my voice, ballooning out in front of me like the translucent greenish membrane of a frog in full trill.
My voice was courted. Banquets were thrown to it. Money was bestowed on it. Men fell on their knees before it. Applause flew around it like flocks of red birds.
Invitations to perform cascaded over us. All the best places wanted us, and all at once, for, as people said – though not to me – my voice would thrive only for a certain term. Then, as voices do, it would begin to shrivel. Finally it would drop off, and I would be left alone, denuded – a dead shrub, a footnote.
It’s begun to happen, the shrivelling. Only I have noticed it so far. There’s the barest pucker in my voice, the barest wrinkle. Fear has entered me, a needleful of ether, constricting what in someone else would be my heart.
Now it’s evening; the neon lights come on, excitement quickens in the streets. We sit in this hotel room, my voice and I; or rather in this hotel suite, because it’s still nothing but the best for us. We’re gathering our strength together. How much of my life do I have left? Leftover, that is: my voice has used up most of it. I’ve given it all my love, but it’s only a voice, it can never love me in return.
Although it’s begun to decay, my voice is still as greedy as ever. Greedier: it wants more, more and more, more of everything it’s had so far. It won’t let go of me easily.
Soon it will be time for us to go out. We’ll attend a luminous occasion, the two of us, chained together as always. I’ll put on its favorite dress, its favorite necklace. I’ll wind a fur around it, to protect it from the drafts. Then we’ll descend to the foyer, glittering like ice, my voice attached like an invisible vampire to my throat.
RecklessRick
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Just because it's a quote, doesn't mean it's correct.
astroman
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hawkrider is always correct
breitil
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I think it was "justify the nature of personal discovery" something like that. This was the first stimulus with the photographer girl: http://www.smh.com.au/entertainment...ew-how-she-met-her-mother-20130920-2u37h.html
RecklessRick
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lmao
el_manu
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That first short answer question and text stuffed me over SOOO much. I was like trying to figure out what to write and I wasted so much time.
I also only wrote 3/4 of a page for that last six marker because of time constraints, and I only had 25 minutes to write my discovery essay.
Overall, I think i probably got 14/15 for creative, 11.5/15 for my discovery essay and probably 13/15 for the short answers.
I am really worried for paper 2 tomorrow. I'm doing W.H Auden's poem for module C - People and Politics and I havent even started studying for it at ALL. I also need to learn a 1984 and Metropolis essay for Module A. Liuckily I have memorised a Hamlet essay (but i don't know how much use it will be)
I also only wrote 3/4 of a page for that last six marker because of time constraints, and I only had 25 minutes to write my discovery essay.
Overall, I think i probably got 14/15 for creative, 11.5/15 for my discovery essay and probably 13/15 for the short answers.
I am really worried for paper 2 tomorrow. I'm doing W.H Auden's poem for module C - People and Politics and I havent even started studying for it at ALL. I also need to learn a 1984 and Metropolis essay for Module A. Liuckily I have memorised a Hamlet essay (but i don't know how much use it will be)
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breitil
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Nah for comparative and close study, i should be fine it's just those stupid poems that'll stuff me over, we're doing Judith Wright ugh
FlyingKanga
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For Critical Study of Texts (Module B), where should we integrate the context of the texts into?
el_manu
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Apparently in the past there was more focus on integrating the context in but I think now its mainly to do with our own understanding of the text + its textual integrity. You should probably put it when talking about the themes or textual integrity..if the context has an effect of something OR when you say how why the text is still relevant today.
PhysicsMaths
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Idk how anyone could interpret a castle as a mountain
Two boys climb an entire mountain and managed to make it home in time for dinner?
I suspect that the castle has some metaphorical meaning instead of being a physical object, because it seemed too obvious
Two boys climb an entire mountain and managed to make it home in time for dinner?
I suspect that the castle has some metaphorical meaning instead of being a physical object, because it seemed too obvious
el_manu
Member
You didn't even make that quote up Hawkrider.
Plagiarism detected
Plagiarism detected
el_manu
Member
Alright. I'm off to learn some essays. Best of luck - we are all going to need it (apart from the people that don't need it.)
In the name of the English Gods, I would also like to announce that tomorrow I will be sacrificing my right arm to the English Gods as an offering. Please englighten me English Gods and take my offering completely. Amen.
In the name of the English Gods, I would also like to announce that tomorrow I will be sacrificing my right arm to the English Gods as an offering. Please englighten me English Gods and take my offering completely. Amen.
You wouldn't happen to want to share auden notes with me? struggling heaps with that module
parisjasminefeledyk
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Anyone who's doing The Art of Travel By Alain de Botton as their Module C text, ask and I'll send you notes; there's absolutely nothing good online about it :s
iforgotmyname
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Today's test paper was alright. Section 1 Q1 was pretty fucked. But rest was ok... Except for the essay question. I did Che-Guevara's motorcycle dairy so theres really no element of surprise there... the challenge was ok though