NYGH 2019-S3EOY-ALIT HP

Class Register Number Name 南洋女子中学校 NANYANG GIRLS' HIGH SCHOOL End of Year Examination 2019 Secondary 3 ADVANCED LITERATURE HP 2 hours Thursday 10 Oct 2019 1145 - 1345 READ THESE INSTRUCTIONS FIRST 1. Write your name, register number and class on all the work you hand in. 2. Answer both Section A and Section B. 3. Write in dark blue or black ink on both sides of the paper. 4. Do not use staples, paper clips, glue or correction fluid/tape. You may use highlighters on the questions or text(s), but not on your answers. 5. Begin your answer to Section B on a fresh sheet of paper. It will be collected SEPARATELY. 6. At the end of the examination, fasten your work securely together according to instructions. 7. The number of marks is given in brackets [ ] at the end of each question. 8. The total number of marks for this paper is 60. Setter: Wong Wen Pu, Shanni G Kaur This document consists of 7 printed pages, including this cover page. NANYANG GIRLS' HIGH SCHOOL [ Turn over ]

2 SECTION A: SET TEXT Select ONE question in this section Either Question 1 Death of a Salesman – Arthur Miller After devoting thirty-four years of loyal service to his company, Willy Loman finds himself unceremoniously fired. “You can’t eat the orange and throw the peel away — a man is not a piece of fruit!” he exclaims in despair. How is Willy Loman’s situation a critique of the American Dream? [30m] OR Question 2 Great Expectations – Charles Dickens Read the extract below and answer the questions that follow. She turned her face to me for the first time since she had averted it, and, to my amazement, I may even add to my terror, dropped on her knees at my feet; with her folded hands raised to me in the manner in which, when her poor heart was young and fresh and whole, they must often have been raised to heaven from her mother's side. To see her with her white hair and her worn face kneeling at my feet gave me a shock through all my frame. I entreated her to rise, and got my arms about her to help her up; but she only pressed that hand of mine which was nearest to her grasp, and hung her head over it and wept. I had never seen her shed a tear before, and, in the hope that the relief might do her good, I bent over her without speaking. She was not kneeling now, but was down upon the ground. “O!” she cried, despairingly. “What have I done! What have I done!” “If you mean, Miss Havisham, what have you done to injure me, let me answer. Very little. I should have loved her under any circumstances. Is she married?” “Yes.” It was a needless question, for a new desolation in the desolate house had told me so. “What have I done! What have I done!” She wrung her hands, and crushed her white hair, and returned to this cry over and over again. “What have I done!” I knew not how to answer, or how to comfort her. That she had done a grievous thing in taking an impressionable child to mould into the form that her wild resentment, spurned affection, and wounded pride found vengeance in, I knew full well. But that, in shutting out the light of day, she had shut out infinit ely more; that, in seclusion, she had secluded herself from a thousand natural and healing 5 10 15 20

3 influences; that, her mind, brooding solitary, had grown diseased, as all minds do and must and will that reverse the appointed order of their Maker, I knew equally well. And could I look upon her without compassion, seeing her punishment in the ruin she was, in her profound unfitness for this earth on which she was placed, in the vanity of sorrow which had become a master mania, like the vanity of penitence, the vani ty of remorse, the vanity of unworthiness, and other monstrous vanities that have been curses in this world? “Until you spoke to her the other day, and until I saw in you a looking-glass that showed me what I once felt myself, I did not know what I had don e. What have I done! What have I done!” And so again, twenty, fifty times over, What had she done! “Miss Havisham,” I said, when her cry had died away, “you may dismiss me from your mind and conscience. But Estella is a different case, and if you can ever undo any scrap of what you have done amiss in keeping a part of her right nature away from her, it will be better to do that than to bemoan the past through a hundred years.” “Yes, yes, I know it. But, Pip —my dear!” There was an earnest womanly compassion for me in her new affection. “My dear! Believe this: when she first came to me, I meant to save her from misery like my own. At first, I meant no more.” “Well, well!” said I. “I hope so.” “But as she grew, and promised to be very beautiful, I gradually did worse, and with my praises, and with my jewels, and with my teachings, and with this figure of myself always before her, a warning to back and point my lessons, I stole her heart away, and put ice in its place.” “Better,” I could not help saying, “to have left her a natural heart, even to be bruised or broken.” With that, Miss Havisham looked distractedly at me for a while, and then burst out again, What had she done! “If you knew all my story,” she pleaded, “you would have some compassion for me and a better understanding of me.” “Miss Havisham,” I answered, as delicately as I could, “I believe I may say that I do know your story, and have known it ever since I first left this neighborhood. It has inspired me with great commiseration, and I hope I understa nd it and its influences. 25 30 35 40 45 50 55 60 Extract from Chapter XLIX, Great Expectations by Charles Dickens (a) How does Dickens present Miss Havisham in a sympathetic light in this extract? (b) Great Expectations is often described as a bildungsroman. How does Dickens present Pip’s growth, in this extract, and elsewhere in the novel? [30m]

4 SECTION B: COMPARATIVE LITERARY RESPONSE Select ONE question in this section Either Question 3 - Prose Read the two extracts below and answer the question that follows. (a) Before going over to see Kemmerich we pack up his things: he will need them on the way back. In the dressing station there is great activity: it reeks as ever of carbolic, pus, and sweat. We are accustomed to a good deal in the billets, but this makes us feel faint. We ask for Kemmerich. He lies in a large room and receives us with feeble expressions of joy and helpless agitation. While he was unconscious someone had stolen his watch. Müller shakes his head: "I always told you that nobody should carry as good a watch as that." Müller is rather crude and tactless, otherwise he would hold his tongu e, for anybody can see that Kemmerich will never come out of this place again. Whether he finds his watch or not will make no difference, at the most one will only be able to send it to his people. "How goes it, Franz?" asks Kropp. Kemmerich's head sinks. "Not so bad... but I have such a damned pain in my foot." We look at his bed covering. His leg lies under a wire basket. The bed covering arches over it. I kick Müller on the shin, for he is just about to tell Kemmerich what the orderlies told us outsi de: that Kemmerich has lost his foot. The leg is amputated. He looks ghastly, yellow and wan. In his face there are already the strained lines that we know so well, we have seen them now hundreds of times. They are not so much lines as marks. Under the ski n the life no longer pulses, it has already pressed out the boundaries of the body. Death is working through from within. It already has command in the eyes. Here lies our comrade, Kemmerich, who a little while ago was roasting horse flesh with us and squatting in the shell - holes. He it is still and yet it is not