DAVENPORT'S DYNAMIC DIMENSIONS



Name _________________________________________________ Date _____________________ Period _____Point of View ReviewFill in the blank with the type of point of view that matches the definition given.First PersonSecond PersonThird Person ObjectiveThird Person LimitedThird PersonThird Person Omniscient1. Person telling the story is not in the story. Uses the pronouns: he, she, it, him, her, they, them and character’s names. _________________________________________2. Usually not used in literature. More often used in letters or instructions. Uses the pronouns: you, your, yours, yourself. _________________________________________3. Person telling the story is not in the story, but knows everything about everyone including their thoughts, feelings and actions. _________________________________________4. Person telling the story is not in the story, but knows what everyone is doing. _________________________________________5. Person telling the story is a character in the story, and we know only his/her point of view. Uses the pronouns: I, me, my, we, us, our, ours. _________________________________________6. Person telling the story is not in the story, but knows the thoughts and feelings and actions of one or two (1-2) characters. May tell you what others in the story are doing, but not their thoughts, feelings and actions. _________________________________________Read the passages and identify the type point of view. Oliver had not been within the walls of the workhouse a quarter of an hour, and had scarcely completed the demolition of a second slice of bread, when Mr. Bumble, who had handed him over to the care of an old woman, returned, and, telling him it was a board night, informed him that the board had said he was to appear before it forthwith. Not having a very clearly defined notion of what a live board was, Oliver seemed rather astounded by this intelligence, and was not quite certain whether he ought to laugh or cry. He had did not appear to have time to think about the matter, however; for Mr. Bumble gave him a tap on the head to wake him up, and another on the back to make him lively, and bidding him follow, conducted him into a large whitewashed room where eight or ten fat gentlemen were sitting round a table, at the top of which, seated in an armchair rather higher than the rest, was a particularly fat gentleman with a very round, red face. "Bow to the Board," said Bumble. Oliver brushed away two or three tears that were lingering in his eyes, and seeing no board but the table, fortunately bowed to that. from Oliver Twist by Charles DickensPoint of View Type ___________________________________________________Explain your answer _________________________________________________________________________________________________ _________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ "What's your name, boy?" said the gentleman in the high chair. Oliver was frightened at the sight of so many gentlemen, which made him tremble; and the beadle gave him another tap behind, which made him cry; and these two causes made him answer in a very low and hesitating voice; whereupon a gentleman in a white waistcoat said he was a fool--which was a capital way of raising his spirits, and putting him quite at ease. "Boy," said the gentleman in the high chair, "listen to me. You know you're an orphan, I suppose?" "What's that, sir?" inquired poor Oliver. "The boy is a fool I thought he was," said the gentleman in the white waistcoat, in a very decided tone. If one member of a class be blessed with an intuitive perception of others of the same race, the gentleman in the white waistcoat was unquestionably well qualified to pronounce an opinion on the matter. from Oliver Twist by Charles DickensPoint of View Type ___________________________________________________Explain your answer _________________________________________________________________________________________________ _________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________“There is this kid in my class named Marcus who always makes good grades. We call him the “curve buster.” All the other brothers in class be makin’ Cs and Ds. My man Marcus be pullin’ As on a regular basis. Instead of that makin’ him popular, we all hate him”.“Why do you think that’s true,” the psychologist asked.‘Cause he’s doin’ somethin’ that all our parents have told us we could do, but somehow we just can’t. It’s like easier to just “make do,” to get by”. “I like getting’ good grades, but my friends talk about me if I get called up to the front on Awards Day with all the white kids—it’s embarrassing”. “It’s easier to sit in the back of the auditorium, and laugh, and make hootin’ noises when people like Mary Alice Applesapple go up to get their Honor Roll awards”.from Tears of a Tiger by Sharon DraperPoint of View Type ___________________________________________________Explain your answer _________________________________________________________________________________________________ _________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________…Very quickly over half the cells died. There were only fifteen now, and Eduardo felt a cold lump in his stomach. If he failed, he would be sent to the Farms, and then what would become of his family?"It's okay," said Lisa, so close by that Eduardo jumped. She was one of the senior technicians. She had worked for so many years in the dark, her face was chalk white and her blue veins were visible through her skin."How can it be okay?" Eduardo said."The cells were frozen over a hundred years ago. They can't be as healthy as samples taken yesterday.""That long," the man marveled. "But some of them should grow," Lisa said.So Eduardo began to worry again. And for a month everything went well. The day came when he implanted the tiny embryos in the brood cows who were lined up. They were fed by tubes, and their bodies were exercised by giant metal arms that grasped their legs and flexed them as though the cows were walking through an endless field. Did they dream of dandelions? Eduardo wondered. Did they feel a phantom wind blowing tall grass against their legs? Their brains were filled with quiet joy from implants in their skulls. Were they aware of the children growing in their wombs?from House of the Scorpion by Nancy FarmerPoint of View Type ___________________________________________________Explain your answer _________________________________________________________________________________________________ _________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________Cisneros, Sandra. “Eleven.” Woman Hollering Creek and Other Stories. New York: Random House, 1991. (1991) What they don’t understand about birthdays and what they never tell you is that when you’re eleven, you’re also ten, and nine, and eight, and seven, and six, and five, and four, and three, and two, and one. And when you wake up on your eleventh birthday you expect to feel eleven, but you don’t. You open your eyes and everything’s just like yesterday, only it’s today. And you don’t feel eleven at all. You feel like you’re still ten. And you are — underneath the year that makes you eleven. Like some days you might say something stupid, and that’s the part of you that’s still ten. Or maybe some days you might need to sit on your mama’s lap because you’re scared, and that’s the part of you that’s five. And maybe one day when you’re all grown up maybe you will need to cry like if you’re three, and that’s okay. That’s what I tell Mama when she’s sad and needs to cry. Maybe she’s feeling three. Because the way you grow old is kind of like an onion or like the rings inside a tree trunk or like my little wooden dolls that fit one inside the other, each year inside the next one. That’s how being eleven years old is. You don’t feel eleven. Not right away. It takes a few days, weeks even, sometimes even months before you say Eleven when they ask you. And you don’t feel smart eleven, not until you’re almost twelve. That’s the way it is.Point of View Type ___________________________________________________Explain your answer _________________________________________________________________________________________________ _________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________1914525288924Whoseperspectiveis it???00Whoseperspectiveis it??? ................
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