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19309985379AP English Literature Assignments- Spring 2020Mrs. Griffin (cgriffin@)00AP English Literature Assignments- Spring 2020Mrs. Griffin (cgriffin@)Please read and color-mark the following poems-Henry VIII/IcarusMarch 17thHawk Roosting /When I Have Fears March 18thHere/A Barred OwlMarch 19thTo Paint a Water Lily/Evening HawkMarch 20thFive A.M./The Chimney SweeperMarch 23rdCrossing the Swamp/We Grow Accustomed to the DarkMarch 24thModern Love/ErosMarch 25thIf I Could Tell You/Convergence of the TwainMarch 26thLondon/SirensMarch 27thBlackberry Picking/It’s a Woman’s WorldMarch 30th The Death of a Toad/The Author to Her BookMarch 31stTo Helen/The Broken HeartApril 1stThe Prelude/The CentaurApril 2ndSoliloquy/The Last Night She LivedApril 3rdColor-marking requires you to identify at least 5 categories for analysis. You may choose a combination of the literary devices mentioned in the prompt and those that you are familiar with. Please include a key with the colors you have chosen and the corresponding literary device. You must also write a Thesis Statement at the bottom of every page which incorporates the prompt, as we have practiced in class.Read your novel of the month and be prepared to write an essay on April 14th.HOD will be due on April 21st. There will be a multiple-choice test on that day.Write the Quote of the Week responses.Hello My Friends! This is certainly an interesting time we are living in. We have talked quite a lot about Point of View and Perspective in class, and I wonder if there isn’t a way to shift our Perspective about this situation? What a great time to be a bit quiet with ourselves, to read some books or go for a walk, to listen to music or think about the people who mean so much to us. It would be a great time to write some letters or come up with a list of things we’d like to do, movies we’d like to see, or books we’d like to read. A great time to look around and take stock of all the wonderful things in this life. See you soon! Mrs. G.Color MarkingA truly helpful way to engage with a text is called “Color Marking.” Here’s how you do it:After multiple readings, try and focus on a literary characteristic, such as imagery, that repeats throughout the passage.473773513144500Choose a color to associate with imagery such as light blue. Read through the passage again and highlight every example of imagery with a blue colored pencil. I suggest you actually highlight the word or phrase, don’t underline it.At the bottom of your paper begin a key that designates blue for imagery.519493521209000Now, go back through the passage looking for another characteristic, such as characterization, and choose another color such as red. If one of your examples of imagery is also an example of characterization, outline the blue highlighted word or phrase in red.As you become more adept at Color Marking, you will discover multiple patterns within the text due to the different colors highlighting words or phrases. It is also interesting to identify patterns that become apparent through the absence of color.Once you have highlighted at LEAST FIVE different characteristics, think about what EFFECT the author was trying to create through his/her use of these characteristics in these combinations.If you can connect some of the categories that you have color-marked, with the effect that the author was trying to create, you have a THESIS.AP/IB Essay Planning GuideSteps:1. Answer this question: What does this prompt want me to do? (Or, if there is no prompt (IB) what do I want to focus on?)a. What parts of the passage/text will help me to do it?b. What literary elements do I need to consider?2. Answer this question: So what?a. What is the insight you gain from this text? What truths can you reveal to the reader?3. Fill out the guide that follows.4. Write the first draft from the notes on the guide. Fill in the missing links. Make the essay read fluently. Organize the information carefully. Just because a paragraph is planned as #1 below, it does not have to remain the first paragraph in the essay. Think about a logical strategy.5. Review your thesis and make sure it is worded precisely. Does it say what you want it to say?6. Review the rubric and “grade” your essay.7. Check to make sure you have used the literary present tense.8. Make necessary revisions.9. Hand in your best work.Remember our Thesis Statement Template:In ______________________________ by ____________________________,(title)(author)the author (VERB) utilizes portrays _________________________ conveys employs ( literary device) proves arguesthe characterization of discusses suggests the symbol/motif of expresses communicatesthe theme/concept of develops depicts______imagery conflictin order to (VERB) convey portraythe theme of the novel prove express main conflict of the noveldevelop depict main idea of the noveldiscuss employ central premise of the novelwhich is ____________________________________. In this way, the author theme ---- universal message about life)proves/conveys/expresses his/her beliefs/opinions/sentiments/views/ thoughts/ideas/attitude regarding_____________________________________________________. Quote of the Week….On the Quote of the Week page in your notebook, you will write QOTW, the date and then the quote itself up in the blank space at the top of the page. You will divide the rest of the notebook page into five sections labeled with the days of the week. You will fill in every day even if we have a day off.On Monday:?You will receive the quote on a piece of paper. You are to glue that onto your QOTW page in your notebook at the very top. Then, respond to it in any way you wish.” The objective here is to brainstorm ideas and see where the text leads you, so just keep freewriting your thoughts until five minutes are up.On Tuesday:?Today, focus on single words in the text and how they affect meaning. Pull two or three words from the quote, underline them and then explain their meaning and why you think they are significant. Consider denotation, connotation, syntax, diction, dialect, imagery, etc. On Wednesday:?What significant moves do you see the writer making in the quote – tone shifts, patterns, literary strategies or devices, etc.? This is an author’s style. How would you characterize it? Write examples of one or two literary techniques, label them, and explain their effect on meaning of the quote as a whole. On Thursday:?How can you connect the outside world or other texts to this quote? Give examples of outside connections you find and explain how those connections might contribute to your understanding of the quote’s meaning.On Friday:?Write an organized analysis of the quote. Include a statement that identifies a theme, claim, or meaning—in addition to literary conventions used and then support your assertion using evidence from the quote. Share with the rest of us!!!!Quote of the Week- March 16-20th Three Questions by?Leo Tolstoy It once occurred to a certain king, that if he always knew the right time to begin everything; if he knew who were the right people to listen to, and whom to avoid; and, above all, if he always knew what was the most important thing to do, he would never fail in anything he might undertake. And this thought having occurred to him, he had it proclaimed throughout his kingdom that he would give a great reward to anyone who would teach him what was the right time for every action, and who were the most necessary people, and how he might know what was the most important thing to do.And learned men came to the King, but they all answered his questions differently. In reply to the first question, some said that to know the right time for every action, one must draw up in advance, a table of days, months and years, and must live strictly according to it. Only thus, said they, could everything be done at its proper time. Others declared that it was impossible to decide beforehand the right time for every action; but that, not letting oneself be absorbed in idle pastimes, one should always attend to all that was going on, and then do what was most needful. Others, again, said that however attentive the King might be to what was going on, it was impossible for one man to decide correctly the right time for every action, but that he should have a Council of wise men, who would help him to fix the proper time for everything. But then again others said there were some things which could not wait to be laid before a Council, but about which one had at once to decide whether to undertake them or not. But in order to decide that, one must know beforehand what was going to happen. It is only magicians who know that; and, therefore, in order to know the right time for every action, one must consult magicians. Equally various were the answers to the second question. Some said, the people the King most needed were his councillors; others, the priests; others, the doctors; while some said the warriors were the most necessary. To the third question, as to what was the most important occupation: some replied that the most important thing in the world was science. Others said it was skill in warfare; and others, again, that it was religious worship. All the answers being different, the King agreed with none of them, and gave the reward to none. But still wishing to find the right answers to his questions, he decided to consult a hermit, widely renowned for his wisdom. The hermit lived in a wood which he never quitted, and he received none but common folk. So the King put on simple clothes, and before reaching the hermit's cell dismounted from his horse, and, leaving his body-guard behind, went on alone. When the King approached, the hermit was digging the ground in front of his hut. Seeing the King, he greeted him and went on digging. The hermit was frail and weak, and each time he stuck his spade into the ground and turned a little earth, he breathed heavily. The King went up to him and said: "I have come to you, wise hermit, to ask you to answer three questions: How can I learn to do the right thing at the right time? Who are the people I most need, and to whom should I, therefore, pay more attention than to the rest? And, what affairs are the most important, and need my first attention?" The hermit listened to the King, but answered nothing. He just spat on his hand and recommenced digging. "You are tired," said the King, "let me take the spade and work awhile for you." "Thanks!" said the hermit, and, giving the spade to the King, he sat down on the ground. When he had dug two beds, the King stopped and repeated his questions. The hermit again gave no answer, but rose, stretched out his hand for the spade, and said: "Now rest awhile-and let me work a bit." But the King did not give him the spade, and continued to dig. One hour passed, and another. The sun began to sink behind the trees, and the King at last stuck the spade into the ground, and said: "I came to you, wise man, for an answer to my questions. If you can give me none, tell me so, and I will return home." "Here comes someone running," said the hermit, "let us see who it is." The King turned round, and saw a bearded man come running out of the wood. The man held his hands pressed against his stomach, and blood was flowing from under them. When he reached the King, he fell fainting on the ground moaning feebly. The King and the hermit unfastened the man's clothing. There was a large wound in his stomach. The King washed it as best he could, and bandaged it with his handkerchief and with a towel the hermit had. But the blood would not stop flowing, and the King again and again removed the bandage soaked with warm blood, and washed and rebandaged the wound. When at last the blood ceased flowing, the man revived and asked for something to drink. The King brought fresh water and gave it to him. Meanwhile the sun had set, and it had become cool. So the King, with the hermit's help, carried the wounded man into the hut and laid him on the bed. Lying on the bed the man closed his eyes and was quiet; but the King was so tired with his walk and with the work he had done, that he crouched down on the threshold, and also fell asleep--so soundly that he slept all through the short summer night. When he awoke in the morning, it was long before he could remember where he was, or who was the strange bearded man lying on the bed and gazing intently at him with shining eyes. "Forgive me!" said the bearded man in a weak voice, when he saw that the King was awake and was looking at him. "I do not know you, and have nothing to forgive you for," said the King. "You do not know me, but I know you. I am that enemy of yours who swore to revenge himself on you, because you executed his brother and seized his property. I knew you had gone alone to see the hermit, and I resolved to kill you on your way back. But the day passed and you did not return. So I came out from my ambush to find you, and I came upon your bodyguard, and they recognized me, and wounded me. I escaped from them, but should have bled to death had you not dressed my wound. I wished to kill you, and you have saved my life. Now, if I live, and if you wish it, I will serve you as your most faithful slave, and will bid my sons do the same. Forgive me!" The King was very glad to have made peace with his enemy so easily, and to have gained him for a friend, and he not only forgave him, but said he would send his servants and his own physician to attend him, and promised to restore his property. Having taken leave of the wounded man, the King went out into the porch and looked around for the hermit. Before going away he wished once more to beg an answer to the questions he had put. The hermit was outside, on his knees, sowing seeds in the beds that had been dug the day before. The King approached him, and said: "For the last time, I pray you to answer my questions, wise man." "You have already been answered!" said the hermit, still crouching on his thin legs, and looking up at the King, who stood before him. "How answered? What do you mean?" asked the King. "Do you not see," replied the hermit. "If you had not pitied my weakness yesterday, and had not dug those beds for me, but had gone your way, that man would have attacked you, and you would have repented of not having stayed with me. So the most important time was when you were digging the beds; and I was the most important man; and to do me good was your most important business. Afterwards when that man ran to us, the most important time was when you were attending to him, for if you had not bound up his wounds he would have died without having made peace with you. So he was the most important man, and what you did for him was your most important business. Remember then: there is only one time that is important-- Now! It is the most important time because it is the only time when we have any power. The most necessary man is he with whom you are, for no man knows whether he will ever have dealings with anyone else: and the most important affair is, to do him good, because for that purpose alone was man sent into this life!"Quote of the Week March 23rd-27thThe Dinner Partyby Mona GardnerThe country is India.? A?large dinner party is being given in an up-country station by a colonial official and his wife.? The guests are army officers and government?attaches and their wives, and an American?naturalist.At one side of the long table a?spirited?discussion?springs? up between a young girl and a?colonel.? The girl insists women have long outgrown the?jumping-on-a-chair-at-the-sight-of-a-mouse? era, that they are not as?fluttery?as their grandmothers.? The?colonel says they are, explaining women haven't the actual?nerve control of men.? The other men at the table agree with him."A woman's unfailing reaction in any crisis, " the colonel says, "is to scream.? And while a man may feel? like it, yet?he? has that? ounce? more? of? control? than a?woman has.? And that last ounce is what counts. "The American?scientist?does? not? join? in? the? argument but sits and watches?the?faces of the other?guests.? As he looks,? he? sees a strange expression come over the face of the hostess.? She? is staring? straight?ahead,??the muscles?of her face?contracting? slightly.? With a small?gesture?she summons the native boy standing behind her chair.? She whispers to him.? The boy's eyes?widen: he?? turns quickly and leaves? the? room.? No one else sees this,?nor the boy when he puts a?bowl of milk on the?verandah?outside the glass doors.??The American comes to with a start.? In India, milk in a bowl means only one thing.? It is?bait? for a? snake.? He? realizes there is a?cobra? in? the room.He? looks?? up?? at? the? rafters-the?? likeliest?? place?- and sees they? are? bare.? Three corners?of the? room, which he can see by shifting only slightly, are empty.? In the fourth corner a?group of servants stand, waiting until the next course can be served.? The American realizes there is only one place left - under the table.His first impulse?is?to jump back?and warn?the others.? But he knows the commotion will frighten the cobra and it will strike.? He speaks quickly, the quality of his voice so?arrestingthat it?sobers?everyone.??"I want to know just what control everyone at this table has.? I will count three hundred - that's five minutes - and not one of you is to move a single muscle.? The persons who move will forfeit 50?rupees.? Now!? Ready!"The 20 people sit like stone images while he counts.? He is saying ". . . two hundred and eighty . . ." when, out of the corner of his eye, he sees the cobra emerge and make for the bowl of milk.? Four or five screams ring out as he jumps to slam shut the verandah doors.??"You certainly were right, Colonel!" the host says.? "A man has just shown us?an example of real control.""Just a minute," the American says, turning to his hostess, "there's one thing I'd like to know.? Mrs. Wynnes, how did you know that cobra was in the room?"A faint smile lights up the woman's face as she replies.? "Because it was lying across my foot."?Quote of the Week March 30- April 3 Cousin Tribulation's Storyby?Louisa May AlcottDear Merrys:--As a subject appropriate to the season, I want to tell you about a New Year's breakfast which I had when I was a little girl. What do you think it was? A slice of dry bread and an apple. This is how it happened, and it is a true story, every word.As we came down to breakfast that morning, with very shiny faces and spandy clean aprons, we found father alone in the dining-room."Happy New Year, papa! Where is mother?" we cried."A little boy came begging and said they were starving at home, so your mother went to see and--ah, here she is."As papa spoke, in came mamma, looking very cold, rather sad, and very much excited."Children, don't begin till you hear what I have to say," she cried; and we sat staring at her, with the breakfast untouched before us."Not far away from here, lies a poor woman with a little new-born baby. Six children are huddled into one bed to keep from freezing, for they have no fire. There is nothing to eat over there; and the oldest boy came here to tell me they were starving this bitter cold day. My little girls, will you give them your breakfast, as a New Year's gift?"We sat silent a minute, and looked at the nice, hot porridge, creamy milk, and good bread and butter; for we were brought up like English children, and never drank tea or coffee, or ate anything but porridge for our breakfast."I wish we'd eaten it up," thought I, for I was rather a selfish child, and very hungry."I'm so glad you come before we began," said Nan, cheerfully."May I go and help carry it to the poor, little children?" asked Beth, who had the tenderest heart that ever beat under a pinafore."I can carry the lassy pot," said little May, proudly giving the thing she loved best."And I shall take all the porridge," I burst in, heartily ashamed of my first feeling."You shall put on your things and help me, and when we come back, we'll get something to eat," said mother, beginning to pile the bread and butter into a big basket.We were soon ready, and the procession set out. First, papa, with a basket of wood on one arm and coal on the other; mamma next, with a bundle of warm things and the teapot; Nan and I carried a pail of hot porridge between us, and each a pitcher of milk; Beth brought some cold meat, May the "lassy pot," and her old hood and boots; and Betsey, the girl, brought up the rear with a bag of potatoes and some meal.Fortunately it was early, and we went along back streets, so few people saw us, and no one laughed at the funny party.What a poor, bare, miserable place it was, to be sure,--broken windows, no fire, ragged clothes, wailing baby, sick mother, and a pile of pale, hungry children cuddled under one quilt, trying to keep warm. How the big eyes stared and the blue lips smiled as we came in!"Ah, mein Gott! it is the good angels that come to us!" cried the poor woman, with tears of joy."Funny angels, in woollen hoods and red mittens," said I; and they all laughed.Then we fell to work, and in fifteen minutes, it really did seem as if fairies had been at work there. Papa made a splendid fire in the old fireplace and stopped up the broken window with his own hat and coat. Mamma set the shivering children round the fire, and wrapped the poor woman in warm things. Betsey and the rest of us spread the table and fed the starving little ones."Das ist gute!" "Oh, nice!" "Der angel--Kinder!" cried the poor things as they ate and smiled and basked in the warm blaze. We had never been called "angel-children" before, and we thought it very charming, especially I who had often been told I was "a regular Sancho." What fun it was! Papa, with a towel for an apron, fed the smallest child; mamma dressed the poor little new-born baby as tenderly as if it had been her own. Betsey gave the mother gruel and tea, and comforted her with assurance of better days for all. Nan, Lu, Beth, and May flew about among the seven children, talking and laughing and trying to understand their funny, broken English. It was a very happy breakfast, though we didn't get any of it; and when we came away, leaving them all so comfortable, and promising to bring clothes and food by and by, I think there were not in all the hungry little girls who gave away their breakfast, and contented themselves with a bit of bread and an apple of New Year's day.Quote of the Week April 6-10thAn Uncomfortable Bedby Guy de MaupassantOne autumn I went to spend the hunting season with some friends in a chateau in Picardy.My friends were fond of practical jokes. I do not care to know people who are not.When I arrived, they gave me a princely reception, which at once awakened suspicion in my mind. They fired off rifles, embraced me, made much of me, as if they expected to have great fun at my expense.I said to myself:"Look out, old ferret! They have something in store for you."During the dinner the mirth was excessive, exaggerated, in fact. I thought: "Here are people who have more than their share of amusement, and apparently without reason. They must have planned some good joke. Assuredly I am to be the victim of the joke. Attention!"During the entire evening everyone laughed in an exaggerated fashion. I scented a practical joke in the air, as a dog scents game. But what was it? I was watchful, restless. I did not let a word, or a meaning, or a gesture escape me. Everyone seemed to me an object of suspicion, and I even looked distrustfully at the faces of the servants.The hour struck for retiring; and the whole household came to escort me to my room. Why?They called to me: "Good-night." I entered the apartment, shut the door, and remained standing, without moving a single step, holding the wax candle in my hand.I heard laughter and whispering in the corridor. Without doubt they were spying on me. I cast a glance round the walls, the furniture, the ceiling, the hangings, the floor. I saw nothing to justify suspicion. I heard persons moving about outside my door. I had no doubt they were looking through the keyhole.An idea came into my head: "My candle may suddenly go out and leave me in darkness."Then I went across to the mantelpiece and lighted all the wax candles that were on it. After that I cast another glance around me without discovering anything. I advanced with short steps, carefully examining the apartment. Nothing. I inspected every article, one after the other. Still nothing. I went over to the window. The shutters, large wooden shutters, were open. I shut them with great care, and then drew the curtains, enormous velvet curtains, and placed a chair in front of them, so as to have nothing to fear from outside.Then I cautiously sat down. The armchair was solid. I did not venture to get into the bed. However, the night was advancing; and I ended by coming to the conclusion that I was foolish. If they were spying on me, as I supposed, they must, while waiting for the success of the joke they had been preparing for me, have been laughing immoderately at my terror. So I made up my mind to go to bed. But the bed was particularly suspicious-looking. I pulled at the curtains. They seemed to be secure.All the same, there was danger. I was going perhaps to receive a cold shower both from overhead, or perhaps, the moment I stretched myself out, to find myself sinking to the floor with my mattress. I searched in my memory for all the practical jokes of which I ever had experience. And I did not want to be caught. Ah! certainly not! certainly not! Then I suddenly bethought myself of a precaution which I considered insured safety. I caught hold of the side of the mattress gingerly, and very slowly drew it toward me. It came away, followed by the sheet and the rest of the bedclothes. I dragged all these objects into the very middle of the room, facing the entrance door. I made my bed over again as best I could at some distance from the suspected bedstead and the corner which had filled me with such anxiety. Then I extinguished all the candles, and, groping my way, I slipped under the bed clothes.For at least another hour I remained awake, starting at the slightest sound. Everything seemed quiet in the chateau. I fell asleep.I must have been in a deep sleep for a long time, but all of a sudden I was awakened with a start by the fall of a heavy body tumbling right on top of my own, and, at the same time, I received on my face, on my neck, and on my chest a burning liquid which made me utter a howl of pain. And a dreadful noise, as if a sideboard laden with plates and dishes had fallen down, almost deafened me.I was smothering beneath the weight that was crushing me and preventing me from moving. I stretched out my hand to find out what was the nature of this object. I felt a face, a nose, and whiskers. Then, with all my strength, I launched out a blow at this face. But I immediately received a hail of cuffings which made me jump straight out of the soaked sheets, and rush in my nightshirt into the corridor, the door of which I found open.Oh, heavens! it was broad daylight. The noise brought my friends hurrying into my apartment, and we found, sprawling over my improvised bed, the dismayed valet, who, while bringing me my morning cup of tea, had tripped over this obstacle in the middle of the floor and fallen on his stomach, spilling my breakfast over my face in spite of himself.The precautions I had taken in closing the shutters and going to sleep in the middle of the room had only brought about the practical joke I had been trying to avoid.Oh, how they all laughed that day! ................
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