Second Quarter Literary Samples

Table of Contents:
21st Century Literature from the
Elements of a Short Story ................................................ 2
Philippines and the World Lesson 1 – Asian Literature - Chinese
Battle ................................................................................ 4
On the Threshing Floor, I Chase… ............................... 4

Second Quarter
Lesson 2 – Asian Literature – Singaporean
The Taximan’s Story ....................................................... 5

Lesson 3 – Asian Literature – Japanese

The Boy Named Crow ..................................................... 8

Lesson 4 – African Literature

The Lion and the Mouse ................................................ 11
The Clever Young Man and the Monster .................. 11

Literary Texts
Rawera (the Comforter) and the Monster ............... 12
Things Fall Apart (Summary) ...................................... 14

Lesson 5 – European Literature I

for
The Miracle of the Sword and Stone ......................... 16
Call of Destiny ............................................................... 18

Lesson 6 – European Literature II

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone ...................... 21

Lesson 1 – 11 Lesson 7 – European Literature III

The Study in Emerald (synopsis) ................................ 23

Lesson 8 – North American Literature I

The Hunger Games.......................................................... 27

Lesson 9 – North American Literature II

READ. READ. READ. Death ................................................................................ 28

Lesson 10 – Latin American Literature I

Have Fun
Eva in Inside Her Cat ..................................................... 29

Lesson 11 – Latin American Literature II

Sonnet XVII ...................................................................... 35

Prepared by:
KD Causing
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Second Quarter Literary Samples Second Quarter Literary Samples

Elements of a Short Story what he/she says, thinks, feels and dreams
what he/she does or does not do
what others say about him/her and how others react to him/her
PLOT Characters are convincing if they are: consistent, motivated, and life-like (resemble real
The plot is how the author arranges events to develop his basic people)
idea; It is the sequence of events in a story or play. The plot is a
planned, logical series of events having a beginning, middle, Characters are...
and end. The short story usually has one plot so it can be read • Individual - round, many sided and complex personalities.
in one sitting. There are five essential parts of plot: • Developing - dynamic, many sided personalities that change, for better or worse, by the end of the story.
1. Introduction - The beginning of the story where the • Static - Stereotype, have one or two characteristics that never change and are emphasized e.g.
characters and the setting is revealed. brilliant detective, drunk, scrooge, cruel stepmother, etc.
2. Rising Action - This is where the events in the story
become complicated and the conflict in the story is SETTING
revealed (events between the introduction and climax). The time and location in which a story takes place is called the setting. For some stories the setting is very
3. Climax - This is the highest point of interest and the important, while for others it is not. There are several aspects of a story's setting to consider when examining
turning point of the story. The reader wonders what will how setting contributes to a story (some, or all, may be present in a story):
happen next; will the conflict be resolved or not? 1. Place - geographical location. Where is the action of the story taking place?
4. Falling action - The events and complications begin to 2. Time - When is the story taking place? (historical period, time of day, year, etc)
resolve themselves. The reader knows what has 3. Weather conditions - Is it rainy, sunny, stormy, etc?
happened next and if the conflict was resolved or not 4. Social conditions - What is the daily life of the character's like? Does the story contain local color
(events between climax and denouement). (writing that focuses on the speech, dress, mannerisms, customs, etc. of a particular place)?
5. Denouement - This is the final outcome or untangling of events in the story. It is helpful to consider 5. Mood or atmosphere - What feeling is created at the beginning of the story? Is it bright and
climax as a three-fold phenomenon: 1) the main character receives new information 2) accepts this cheerful or dark and frightening?
information (realizes it but does not necessarily agree with it) 3) acts on this information (makes a
choice that will determine whether or not he/she gains his objective). CONFLICT
Conflict is essential to plot. Without conflict there is no plot. It is the opposition of forces which ties one
POINT OF VIEW Point of view, or p.o.v., is defined as the angle from which the story is told. incident to another and makes the plot move. Conflict is not merely limited to open arguments, rather it is
1) First Person - Story told by the protagonist or a character who interacts closely with the protagonist any form of opposition that faces the main character. Within a short story there may be only one central
or other characters; speaker uses the pronouns "I", "me", "we". Readers experiences the story struggle, or there may be one dominant struggle with many minor ones.
through this person's eyes and only knows what he/she knows and feels.
2) Second Person - Story told by a narrator who addresses the reader or some other assumed "you"; There are two types of conflict:
speaker uses pronouns "you", "your", and "yours". Ex: You wake up to discover that you have been 1. External - A struggle with a force outside one's self.
robbed of all of your worldly possessions. 2. Internal - A struggle within one's self; a person must make some decision, overcome pain, quiet
3) Third Person - Story told by a narrator who sees all of the action; speaker uses the pronouns "he",
their temper, resist an urge, etc.
"she", "it", "they", "his", "hers", "its", and "theirs". This person may be a character in the story.
There are four kinds of conflict:
There are several types of third person POV: 1. Man vs. Man (physical) - The leading character struggles with his physical strength against other
• Limited - Probably the easiest :POV for a beginning writer to use, "limited" POV funnels all men, forces of nature, or animals.
action through the eyes of a single character; readers only see what the narrator sees. 2. Man vs. Circumstances (classical) - The leading character struggles against fate, or the
• Omniscient- God-like, the narrator knows and sees everything, and can move from one circumstances of life facing him/her.
character's mind to another. Authors can be omniscient narrators by moving from character 3. Man vs. Society (social) - The leading character struggles against ideas, practices, or customs of
to character, event to event, and introducing information at their discretion. other people.
4. Man vs. Himself/Herself (psychological) - The leading character struggles with himself/herself;
There are two main types of omniscient POV: with his/her own soul, ideas of right or wrong, physical limitations, choices, etc.
• Innocent Eye/Naive Narrator – Story told through child's eyes; narrator'sjudgment is
different from that of an adult. THEME
• Stream of Consciousness - Story told so readers solely experience a character's thoughts The theme in a piece of fiction is its controlling idea or its central insight. It is the author's underlying
and reactions. meaning or main idea that he is trying to convey. The theme may be the author's thoughts about a topic or
view of human nature. The title of the short story usually points to what the writer is saying and he may use
CHARACTER various figures of speech to emphasize his theme, such as: symbol, allusion, simile, metaphor, hyperbole, or
There are two meanings for the word character: irony.
• Persons in a work of fiction. Short stories use few characters. One character is clearly central to the Some simple examples of common themes from literature, TV, and film are:
story with all major events having some importance to this character - he/she is the protagonist. The ➢ Things are not always as they appear to be.
opposer of the main character is called the antagonist. ➢ Love is blind.
• The Characteristics of a Person. In order for a story to seem real to the reader its characters must
➢ Believe in yourself.
seem real. Characterization is the information the author gives the reader about the characters
themselves. The author may reveal a character in several ways: ➢ People are afraid of change.
his/her physical appearance ➢ Don't judge a book by its cover.
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Lesson 1 – Asian Literature – Chinese Lesson 2 – Asian Literature – Singaporean

Battle The Taximan’s Story

by Chu’ü Yüan, translated by Arthur Waley by Catherine Lim “Little Ironies”: Stories of Singapore

“We grasp our battle-spears: we don our breast-plates of hide. Take me to National University of Singapore, please make it fast cause I got a
meeting to attend and I need to be there on time. Very good, Madam. Sure I will take you
The axles of our chariots touch: our short swords meet.
there in plenty good time for your meeting, Madam. This way better, less traffic, less car
Standards obscure the sun: the foe roll up like clouds. jams. Half hour should make it, Madam, so not to worry.
Arrows fall thick: the warriors press forward.
They menace our ranks: they break our line. Have you been taxi man for a long time? What did you say, Madam? I said have you
The left-hand trace-horse is dead: the one on the right is smitten. been taxi man for a long time? Ha, ha, Yes, yes. I’ve been taxi man for 20 years now,
The fallen horses block our wheels: they impede the yoke-horses!” Madam. A long time ago, Singapore not like this – so crowded, so busy. Last time, more
peaceful, not so much taxi men or so much cars and buses.
They grasp their jade drum-sticks: they beat the sounding drums.
Heaven decrees their fall: the dread Powers are angry. Oh, you must been working so hard! Yes, Madam, I can make a living. So so. What
to do? I must work hard if wants to success in Singapore. People like us, no education, no
The warriors are all dead: they lie on the moor-field. capital for business, we must sweat to earn money for wife and children.
They issued but shall not enter: they went but shall not return.
Do you have a big family? Yes, Madam, quite big family–eight children, six sons, two
The plains are flat and wide: the way home is long.
daughters. Big family! Ha!ha! No good, Madam. In those days, where got Family Planning
in Singapore? People born many, many children, every year, one childs is no good at all.
Their swords lie beside them: their blacks bows, in their hand. Two children, three children, enough, stop. Our government say stop.
Though their limbs were torn, their hearts could not be repressed.
They were more than brave: they were inspired with the spirit of “Wu.” Lucky for me, all my children big now. Four of my sons working–one a businessman,
Steadfast to the end, they could not be daunted. two clerks, one a teacher in Primary school, one in National Service, one still schooling. My
Their bodies were stricken, but their souls have taken Immortality – eldest daughter, she is twenty plus, stay at home, help the mother.
Captains among the ghosts, heroes among the dead.
Is your daughter already married? No, not married yet–very shy, and her health not
so good, but a good, obedient girl. My other girl– Oh, Madam! Very hard for father when
On the Threshing Floor, I Chase Chickens Away daughter is no good and go against her parents. Very sad, like punishment from God
by Yu Xiuhua, translated by Ming Di Today, young people not like us when we are young. We obey. Our parents say don’t
do this, we never do. Otherwise, the cane. My father cane me, I was big enough to be
And I see sparrows fly over. They look around married, and still got caning. My father he was very strict, and that is good thing for parents
as if it’s inappropriate to stop for just any grain of rice. to be strict. If not, young boys and girls become very useless. Do not want to study, but run
They have clear eyes, with light from inside. away, and go to night clubs and take drugs and make love. You agree with me, Madam?
Starlings also fly over, in flocks, bewildered.
They flutter and make a sound that seems to flash. Yes! I absolutely agree with you. Today, young people they are very trouble to their
When they’re gone, the sky gets lower, in dark blue. parents. Madam, you see this young girl over there, outside the coffee house? See what I
In this village deep in the central plain mean, Madam? Yes. they are only schoolboys and schoolgirls, but they act as big shots,
the sky is always low, forcing us to look at its blue, spending money, smoking, wearing latest fashion, and making love. Yes, that’s true. Even
the way our ancestors make us look inside ourselves, though you’re just a taxi man you are aware about the behavior of the teenagers today. Ah,
narrow and empty, so we look out again madam, I know! As taxi man, I know them and their habits.
at the full September –
we’re comforted by its insignificance but hurt by its smallness. Madam, you are a teacher, you say? Yes. You know or not that young schoolgirls,
Living our life this way, we feel secure. fifteen, sixteen year old, they go to school in the morning in their uniforms and then
So much rice. Where does it come from? afterschool, they don’t go home, they have clothes in their schoolbag, and they go to public
So much gold color. Where does it come from? lavatory or hotel and change into these clothes, and they put make-up on their face. Their
Year after year I’ve been blessed, and then deserted. parents never know. They tell their Mom go school meeting, got sports and games, this,
When happiness and sadness come in the same color code, that, but they really come out and play the fool.
I’m happy
to be forgotten. But who am I separated from? Ah, Madam, I see you surprise but I know, I know all their tricks a lot. as I take them
I don’t know. I stay close to my own hours. in my taxi. they usual is wait in bowling alley or coffee house or hotel, and they walk up, and

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friend, the European and American tourists, and this is how they make fun and also extra beat her and slap her till like hell. My wife and some neighbors they pull me away, and I
money. think they not pull me away, I sure to kill that girl.

Madam, you believe or not when I tell you how much money they got? I say! Last I lock her up in her room for three days, and I ashamed to tell her teacher, so I just
night, Madam, this young girl, very pretty and make-up and wear sexy dress. She told me tell the teacher that Lay Choo is sick, so please to excuse her. Oh, Madam, how you feel in
take her to orchid mansions – this place famous, Madam, fourth floor flat – and she open my place? Make herself so cheap, when her father drive taxi all day to save money for her
her purse to pay me, and I say! All American notes – ten dollar notes all, and she pull one University.
out and say keep change! As she has no time already.
Is everything between you and your daughter okay now? What is it, Madam? I said
Madam, I tell you this, every month, I got more money from these young girls and is everything between you and your daughter okay now? Yes, yes, everything okay now,
their American and European boyfriends in my taxi, more than I get from other people who thank you. she cannot leave the house except to go to school, and I tell her mother always
bargain and say don’t want go by meter and wait even for ten cents change. Phui!! Some check, check in everything she do, and her friends – what sort of people they are…
of them really make me mad. But these young girls and their boyfriends don’t bargain, they
just pay, pay, and they make love in taxi so much they don’t know if you go round and round Can you wait for me until my meeting is done? What, Madam? Oh, so sorry, Madam,
and charge them by meter! cannot wait for you to finish your meeting. Must go off, please to excuse me. In a hurry,
Madam. Must go off to Hotel Elroy –there plenty people to pick up. So very sorry, Madam,
I tell you, Madam, some of them don’t care how much they spend on taxi. It is like and thank you very much. Oh, that’s ok. Here’s the payment. Thank you for sharing your
this: after 1 a.m. taxi fare double, and I prefer working this time, because naturally, much story to me.
more money. I go and wait outside Elroy Hotel or Tung Court or Orchid Mansions, and such
enough, Madam, will have plenty business. Last Saturday, Madam, no joking, on one day My youngest daughter have a similar behavior. Similar like the other schoolgirls that
alone I make nearly one hundred and fifty dollars! Some of it for services. Some of tourists act like gangster since you’re a teacher, did you know something strange about the girls?
don’t know where, so I tell them and take them there, and that’s extra money. After school time, they don’t really go home but they go to hotels and other places for sure.
You surely know a lot of things. Ah Madam, if I tell you all, no end to the story. But I
will tell you this, Madam. If you have young daughter and she say Mummy I got meeting If you have a daughter, don’t accept her trust. But you only do that when she wants
today in school and will not come home, you must not say, Yes, yes, but you must go and to go out just like my naughty daughter who really got caught. For that, I scolded her so loud
ask her where and why and who, and you find out. Today young people not to trust, like that I don’t even care so I just shout. ----end----
young people in many years ago.
Source:https://www.scribd.com/document/412634387/21st-Century-Literature-of-the-Philippines-and-of-the-
World-1)
Why are you telling this? Oh, Madam, I tell you because I myself have a daughter –
oh, Madam, a daughter I love very much, and she is so good and study hard. And I see her
report cards and her teacher write ‘Good work’ and ‘Excellent’ so on, so on. Oh, Madam,
she my favourite child, and I ask her what she want to be after left school, and she says go
to University.

None of my other children could go to University, but this one, she is very smart and
intelligent – no boasting, Madam – her teachers write ‘Good’ and ‘Excellent, and so on, so
on, in her report cards. She study at home, and help the mother, but sometimes a little lazy,
and she say teacher want her to go back to school to do extra work, extra coaching, in her
weak subject, which is math, Madam.

So I let her stay back in school and day after day she come home in evening, then
she do her studies and go to sleep. Then one day, oh Madam, it makes me so angry even Source: https://www.piqsels.com/sv/search?q=singapore%2C+stad&page=12
now – one day, I in my taxi driving, driving along and hey! I see a girl looking like my Lay
Choo, with other girls and some Europeans outside a coffee-house but I think, it cannot be
Lay Choo, how can, Lay Choo is in school, and this girl is all dressed up and mak-up, and
very bold in her behavior, and this is not like my daughter at all.

Then they go inside the coffee-house, and my heart is very, very – how you describe
it, Madam, my heart is very susah hati’ and I say to myself, I will watch that Lay Choo and
see her monkey tricks. The very next day she is there again I stop my taxi, Madam, and I
am so angry. I rush up to this wicked daughter and I catch her by the shoulders and neck,
and slap her and she scream, but I don’t care. Then I drag her to my taxi and drive all the
way home, and at home I thrash the stupid food and I

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Lesson 3 – Asian Literature – Japanese “Forget it,” he says. “You’re just starting out and I shouldn’t lay all this depressing
stuff on you. You’ve already decided what you’re going to do, and all that’s left is to set
The Boy Named Crow the wheels in motion. I mean, it’s your life. Basically, you have to go with what you think
(an excerpt from Kafka on the Shore) is right.”
by Haruki Murakami
That’s right. When all is said and done, it is my life.
“So you’re all set for money, then?” the boy named Crow asks in his typical
sluggish voice. The kind of voice like when you’ve just woken up and your mouth still “I’ll tell you one thing, though. You’re going to have to get a lot tougher if you want
feels heavy and dull. But he’s just pretending. He’s totally awake. As always. to make it.”

I nod. “I’m trying my best,” I say.

“How much?” “I’m sure you are,” Crow says. “These last few years you’ve grown a whole lot
I review the numbers in my head. “Close to thirty-five hundred in cash, plus some stronger. I’ve got to hand it to you.”
money I can get from an ATM. I know it’s not a lot, but it should be enough. For the time
being.” I nod again.
“Not bad,” the boy named Crow says. “For the time being.” “But let’s face it – you’re only 15,” Crow goes on. “Your life’s just begun and there’s
a ton of things out in the world you’ve never laid eyes on. Things you never could
I give him another nod. imagine.”

“I’m guessing this isn’t Christmas money from Santa Claus.” As always, we’re sitting beside each other on the old sofa in my father’s study.
Crow loves the study and all the little objects scattered around there. Now he’s toying
“Yeah, you’re right,” I reply. with a bee-shaped glass paperweight. If my father was at home, you can bet Crow would
never go anywhere near it.
Crow smirks and looks around. “I imagine you’ve started by rifling drawers, am I
right?” “But I have to get out of here,” I tell him. “No two ways about it.”

I don’t say anything. He knows whose money we’re talking about, so there’s no “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He places the paperweight back on the table and
need for any long-winded interrogations. He’s just giving me a hard time. links his hands behind his head. “Not that running away’s going to solve everything. I
don’t want to rain on your parade or anything, but I wouldn’t count on escaping this place
“No matter,” Crow says. “You really need this money and you’re going to get it – if I were you. No matter how far you run. Distance might not solve anything.”
beg, borrow, or steal. It’s your father’s money, so who cares, right? Get your hands on
that much and you should be able to make it. For the time being. But what’s the plan The boy named Crow lets out a sigh, then rests a fingertip on each of his closed
after it’s all gone? Money isn’t like mushrooms in a forest – it doesn’t just pop up on its eyelids and speaks to me from the darkness within.
own, you know. You’ll need to eat, a place to sleep. One day you’re going to run out.”
“How about we play our game?” he says.
“I’ll think about that when the time comes,” I say.
“All right,” I say. I close my eyes and quietly take a breath.
“When the time comes,” Crow repeats, as if weighing these words in his hand.
“OK, picture a terrible sandstorm,” he says. “Get everything else out of your head.”
I nod.
I do as he says, get everything else out of my head. I forget who I am, even. I’m
“Like by getting a job or something?” a total blank. Then things begin to surface. Things that – as we sit here on the old leather
sofa in my father’s study – both of us can see.
“Maybe,” I say.

Crow shakes his head. “You know you’ve got a lot to learn about the world. Listen “Sometimes fate is like a small sandstorm that keeps changing direction,” Crow
– what kind of job could a 15-year old kid get in some far-off place he’s never been to says.
before? You haven’t even finished junior high. Who do you think’s going to hire you?”
Sometimes fate is like a small sandstorm that keeps changing direction. You
I blush a little. It doesn’t take much to make me blush. change direction, but the sandstorm chases you. You turn again, but the storm adjusts.

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Over and over you play this out, like some ominous dance with death just before dawn.
Why? Because this storm isn’t something that blew in from far away, something that has Lesson 4 – African Literature
nothing to do with you. This storm is you. Something inside you. So all you can do is
give in to it, step right inside the storm, closing your eyes and walk through it, step by The Lion and the Mouse
step. There’s no sun there, no moon, no direction, no sense of time. Just fine white sand Once when a Lion was asleep a little Mouse began running up and down upon him. This
swirling up into the sky like pulverised bones. That’s the kind of sandstorm you need to soon awakened the Lion, who placed his huge paw upon the Mouse and opened his big jaws to
imagine. swallow him.
“Pardon, O King,” cried the little Mouse, “forgive me this time, I shall never forget it: and I
may be able to do you a favor in the future.” The Lion was so taken at the idea of the Mouse being
And that’s exactly what I do. I imagine a white funnel stretching vertically up like able to help him, that he let him go.
a thick rope. My eyes are closed tight, hands cupped over my ears, so those fine grains Some time after, the Lion was caught in a trap, and the hunters tied him to a tree. Just then
of sand can’t blow inside me. The sandstorm draws steadily closer. I can feel the air the little Mouse happened to pass by, and seeing the sad plight of the Lion, went up to him and soon
pressing on my skin. It really is going to swallow me up. gnawed away the ropes that bound the King of the Beasts. “Was I not right?” said the little Mouse.

The boy called Crow rests a hand softly on my shoulder, and with that the storm
vanishes. The Clever Young Man and the Monster
by Tanzania
From now on – no matter what – you’ve got to be the world’s toughest 15-year-
old. That’s the only way you’re going to survive. and in order to do that, you’ve got to Once upon a time in East Africa, the monster or ogre Shing’weng’we swallowed all
figure out what it means to be tough. You following me?” the people in the world together with all the domestic animals, except one pregnant woman
who hid in a pile of chaff. Later this woman gave birth to a boy named Masala Kulangwa
I keep my eyes closed and don’t reply. I just want to sink off into sleep like this, (whose name means “the smart or clever person who understands quickly”). When he grew
his hand on my shoulder. I hear the faint flutter of wings. up he asked: “Mother, why are there only the two of us? Where are the other people?” She
answered: “My dear one, everyone else was swallowed by Shing’weng’we. We two are the
only ones left.”
“You’re going to be the world’s toughest 15-year old,” Crow whispers as I try to
fall asleep. As if he were carving the words in a deep blue tattoo on my heart. From that day on, the young man started looking for the monster. One day, he killed
a grasshopper and arrived home singing: “Mother, Mother, I have killed
And you really have to make it through that violent, metaphysical storm. No matter he killed a grasshopper and arrived home singing: “Mother, Mother, I have killed
how metaphysical or symbolic it might be, make no mistake about it: it will cut through Shing’weng’we. Rejoice and shout for joy.” But his mother answered: “My dear one, this is
flesh like a thousand razor blades. People will bleed there, and you will bleed too. Hot, only a grasshopper, not the monster. Let’s roast him and eat him.”
red blood. You’ll catch that blood in your hands, your own blood and the blood of others.
Another day, he killed a bird and arrived home singing: “Mother, Mother, I have killed
And once the storm is over you won’t remember how you made it through, how Shing’weng’we up in the hills. Rejoice and shout for joy.” But his mother answered: “My dear
you managed to survive. You won’t even be sure, in fact, whether the storm is really one, this is only a bird, not the monster. Let’s roast it and eat it.”
over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm you won’t be the same
person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about. Another day he killed a small gazelle and arrived home singing: “Mother, Mother, I
have killed Shing’weng’we up in the hills. Rejoice and shout for joy.” But his mother
On my fifteenth birthday I’ll run away from home, journey to a far-off town and live answered: “My dear one, this is only a small gazelle, not the monster. Let’s roast it and eat
in a corner of a small library. It’d take a week to go into the whole thing, all the details. it.”
So I’ll just give the main point. On my fifteenth birthday I’ll run away from home, journey
to a far-off town, and live in a corner of a small library. Another day he killed an antelope and arrived home singing: “Mother, Mother, I have
killed Shing’weng’we up in the hills. Rejoice and shout for joy.” But his mother answered:
It sounds a little like “My dear one, this is only an antelope, not the monster. Let’s roast it and eat it.”
fairytale. But it’s no fairy tale,
believe me. No matter what sort Finally, the clever young man Masala Kulangwa found Shing’weng’we, overcame
of spin you put on it. (Marikit Tara him and cut open the monster’s stomach. Out came his father, along with his relatives and
A. Uychoco, Rex Bookstore all the other people. But by bad luck, when he split open the monster’s back, Masala
Kulangwa cut off the ear of an old woman. This woman became very angry and insulted the
2016), 152-155
young man. She tried to bewitch him. But Masala Kulangwa found medicine and healed the
old woman. Then, all the people declared the young man chief and raised him up in the
Chief’s Chair. Masala Kulangwa became the chief of the whole world and his mother
became the Queen Mother.

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Rawera (the Comforter) and the Monster dog. Soon after, they entered the forest. They walked for a long, long time without hearing
by Nairobi, Kenya any sound. Rawera was disappointed but he walked on. “Stop!” a voiced called from above.
He looked up anxiously but did not see anything and walked on. “I said stop. You will be
A long time ago, the people of Funtu lived happily. They worked hard and produced killed,” the shrill voice said again. “Who are you and how do you know where I am going?”
much food. They loved each other. The King was kind: everybody loved him. Meanwhile, Rawera asked. A bird landed on his forehead, scaring him. He jumped to one side, ready
there was a woman, Ng’uono, who lived in the village. Because she was barren, men to attack. “Do not kill me. I want to save you,” the bird said, perching on Sibuor’s head. “The
refused to marry her. Elders forcefully married Ng’uono to Jater, an old man. Ng’uono and voices you hear the other time belong to monsters. They ate your ancestors. I am sure your
Jater had no friends. Despite being treated badly, they were not bitter. They humbly parents told you this. Now, go back home. “Whaaat? Monsters live here?’ Rawera asked.
accepted their situation. “Believe it: in this forest live many monsters,” the bird confirmed. “You say these monsters
ate my people? How then can you tell me to go back? I will find and kill them all. Show me
One day, there was a feast. As usual, Ng’uono and Jater were not invited. From their where to find them,” Rawera said defiantly. “Well, I have warned you. Come with me.”
home, they heard people singing and shouting joyfully. Suddenly, the music stopped. Cries
of agony filled the air. Curious, Jater and Ng’uono came out. What they saw frightened them. The bird led Rawera and Sibuor further into the forest. “Look over there,” he said
Creatures bigger than millet granaries, with eyes as big as cooking pots surrounded the upon reaching a clearing. Rawera trembled at the sight before him: many giants seated
village. These odd-looking beings had hairy bodies, with claws for toes. Ng’uono and Jater round a big fire. Their bodies were hairy. Smoke escaped from their big noses. Seeing how
trembled just by looking at them. “These are monsters. Let us run,” Ng’uono said fearfully. frightened Rawera was, the bird said, “I told you. You can fight them, can you?” “Bu-u-t they
“No. They will reach us in no time and eat us up,” Jater said. “Come with me,” he said, taking killed my people. I must kill them,” Rawera stammered. “Because you are so determined, I
his wife by the hand. They hid in a hole under a big tree. They could hear people crying as will help you,” said the bird. “When you shoot them, aim for the palm. Go now.” His dog
the monsters chased them. The noise stopped after a long time. “Wait here. I will go and beside him, Rawera walked into the clearing. The monsters smelled him may meters away,
see what is happening,” Jater said to his wife. “You cannot go out there! You will be killed,” stood as one and walked to meet him, saliva pouring from their big mouths. Terrified,
Ng’uono objected. Jater ignored her and slid out of the hole. There was not a single person. Rawera turned back and ran. “Do not run. Turn back and shoot,” the bird encouraged him.
The monster had flattened all the huts. The crops were all destroyed. Shocked, Jater stood
out there, lost in thought. Back in the hole, Ng’uono was worried about her husband. Unable He turned, took aim and fired his first arrow. One of the monsters swallowed it. “Shoot
to wait any longer, she came out and saw him. “Oh! What destruction!” she moaned. at the palm,” the bird shouted. The monsters were approaching fast. Rawera let go of
Walking towards him, she asked, “What shall we do?” “I don’t know,” Jater replied sadly. another arrow. He aimed at the palm and felled one monster. Encouraged, he shot the
They sat under the big tree and soon fell asleep. Ng’uono was woken up by the cry of a bird monsters rapidly. Only one remained, the biggest of them.
perched on her forehead. “Wake up. What happened?” asked the bird. Sobbing, she told
him the story. “Wake up hour husband and follow me,” the bird commanded. After walking Rawera had only one arrow left. “Wait,” the bird called out. “Let Sibuor go out and
for several days, the bird led them to a valley, green with vegetation, beautiful flowers and meet him. Then, shoot the monster through the left ear.” Rawera commanded his dog to
clear streams. “This is your new home. There are crops of all types: harvest them and eat.” attack the monster. As the monster picked Sibuor to swallow him, Rawera shot him through
After saying this the bird turned to fly away. “Oh! Before I leave… Ng’uono, take good care the left ear. The monster died. “Cut the monster’s big toes,” the bird ordered Rawera. When
of your son. Bye.” “What are you talking about? I am …” she started but the bird had already he did, all the people who had been eaten by the monsters came out. They were excited to
flown away. be back. They thanked Rawera.

Jater and his wife remained standing, unable to understand. Ng’uono gave birth to a They all walked to the valley where Rawera and his parents lived. Jater and Ng’uono were
baby boy a few months later. They called him Rawera, the comforter. Rawera grew up happy to see all the people of the village. After listening to Rawera’s story, everybody was
strong and obedient. One afternoon, while he was out hunting, he saw huge footprints at proud of him. They made him chief. All villagers then respected Ng’uono and Jater.(Simoun
the edge of the forest. The footprints were bigger than any he had seen before. Afraid but Victor D. Rodoblaco, Brilliant Creations Publishing, Inc., 2017, 110-113)
curious, he followed the footprints. Deeper and deeper he went into the thick forest. The
forest was so dark that he could not find his way through. Tired, he sat under the nearest
tree and fell asleep, his dog beside him. The barking of the dog woke him. Sleepily, he stood
up. And then heard it: a voice stronger than thunder. It came from deep inside the forest.
He could not understand what the voice said. Soon, there were more voices, equally loud.
The earth shook and trees swayed. Frightened, Rawera ran. Fear, hunger and confusion
slowed him tremendously. The slower he ran, the louder the voices became. Finally, he
reached the edge of the forest and collapsed. He could no longer hear the terrible voices.
He rested for a few minutes and walked home. “Where have you been,” his mother
asked. “Mother, I was just out for hunting,” “Never stay late in the forest: it is dangerous,”
warned his father. He did not tell them what happened. For many days after, Rawera thought
about the voices. He was sure the creatures were not human. Determmined to find out, he
made several poisoned arrows and spears. He hid these carefully. For many months, he
trained his dog and fed it well. His dog, Sibuor, grew large and fierce. Satisfied with his
preparations, Rawera set out at dawn one day. He took his weapons and told his parents
that he was going hunting. At the edge of the forest, he stopped to eat, rest and feed his
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Things Fall Apart Okonkwo’s kinsmen, especially his uncle, Uchendu, receive him warmly. They help him
(Summary) build a new compound of huts and lend him yam seeds to start a farm. Although he is
by Chinua Achebe bitterly disappointed at his misfortune, Okonkwo reconciles himself to life in his
motherland.
Okonkwo is a wealthy and respected warrior of the Umuofia clan, a lower Nigerian
tribe that is part of a consortium of nine connected villages. He is haunted by the actions During the second year of Okonkwo’s exile, Obierika brings several bags of cowries
of Unoka, his cowardly and spendthrift father, who died in disrepute, leaving many village (shells used as currency) that he has made by selling Okonkwo’s yams. Obierika plans to
debts unsettled. In response, Okonkwo became a clansman, warrior, farmer, and family continue to do so until Okonkwo returns to the village. Obierika also brings the bad news
provider extraordinaire. He has a twelve-year-old son named Nwoye whom he finds lazy; that Abame, another village, has been destroyed by the white man.
Okonkwo worries that Nwoye will end up a failure like Unoka. Soon afterward, six missionaries travel to Mbanta. Through an interpreter named Mr.
Kiaga, the missionaries’ leader, Mr. Brown, speaks to the villagers. He tells them that their
In a settlement with a neighboring tribe, Umuofia wins a virgin and a fifteen-year-old gods are false and that worshipping more than one God is idolatrous. But the villagers do
boy. Okonkwo takes charge of the boy, Ikemefuna, and finds an ideal son in him. Nwoye not understand how the Holy Trinity can be accepted as one God. Although his aim is to
likewise forms a strong attachment to the newcomer. Despite his fondness for Ikemefuna convert the residents of Umuofia to Christianity, Mr. Brown does not allow his followers to
and despite the fact that the boy begins to call him “father,” Okonkwo does not let himself antagonize the clan.
show any affection for him.
Mr. Brown grows ill and is soon replaced by Reverend James Smith, an intolerant and
During the Week of Peace, Okonkwo accuses his youngest wife, Ojiugo, of strict man. The more zealous converts are relieved to be free of Mr. Brown’s policy of
negligence. He severely beats her, breaking the peace of the sacred week. He makes restraint. One such convert, Enoch, dares to unmask an egwugwu during the annual
some sacrifices to show his repentance, but he has shocked his community irreparably. ceremony to honor the earth deity, an act equivalent to killing an ancestral spirit. The next
Ikemefuna stays with Okonkwo’s family for three years. Nwoye looks up to him as an older day, the egwugwu burn Enoch’s compound and Reverend Smith’s church to the ground.
brother and, much to Okonkwo’s pleasure, develops a more masculine attitude. One day,
the locusts come to Umuofia—they will come every year for seven years before The District Commissioner is upset by the burning of the church and requests that the
disappearing for another generation. The village excitedly collects them because they are leaders of Umuofia meet with him. Once they are gathered, however, the leaders are
good to eat when cooked. handcuffed and thrown in jail, where they suffer insults and physical abuse.
After the prisoners are released, the clansmen hold a meeting, during which five court
Ogbuefi Ezeudu, a respected village elder, informs Okonkwo in private that the Oracle has messengers approach and order the clansmen to desist. Expecting his fellow clan
said that Ikemefuna must be killed. He tells Okonkwo that because Ikemefuna calls him members to join him in uprising, Okonkwo kills their leader with his machete. When the
“father,” Okonkwo should not take part in the boy’s death. Okonkwo lies to Ikemefuna, crowd allows the other messengers to escape, Okonkwo realizes that his clan is not
telling him that they must return him to his home village. Nwoye bursts into tears. willing to go to war.

As he walks with the men of Umuofia, Ikemefuna thinks about seeing his mother. After When the District Commissioner arrives at Okonkwo’s compound, he finds that
several hours of walking, some of Okonkwo’s clansmen attack the boy with machetes. Okonkwo has hanged himself. Obierika and his friends lead the commissioner to the body.
Ikemefuna runs to Okonkwo for help. But Okonkwo, who doesn’t wish to look weak in front Obierika explains that suicide is a grave sin; thus, according to custom, none of
of his fellow tribesmen, cuts the boy down despite the Oracle’s admonishment. When Okonkwo’s clansmen may touch his body.
Okonkwo returns home, Nwoye deduces that his friend is dead.
Source: https://www.sparknotes.com/lit/things/summary/
Okonkwo sinks into a depression, neither able to sleep nor eat. He visits his friend
Obierika and begins to feel revived a bit. Okonkwo’s daughter Ezinma falls ill, but she
recovers after Okonkwo gathers leaves for her medicine.

The death of Ogbuefi Ezeudu is announced to the surrounding villages by means of the
ekwe, a musical instrument. Okonkwo feels guilty because the last time Ezeudu visited
him was to warn him against taking part in Ikemefuna’s death. At Ogbuefi Ezeudu’s large
and elaborate funeral, the men beat drums and fire their guns. Tragedy compounds upon
itself when Okonkwo’s gun explodes and kills Ogbuefi Ezeudu’s sixteen-year-old son.

Because killing a clansman is a crime against the earth goddess, Okonkwo must take his
family into exile for seven years in order to atone. He gathers his most valuable
belongings and takes his family to his mother’s natal village, Mbanta. The men from
Ogbuefi Ezeudu’s quarter burn Okonkwo’s buildings and kill his animals to cleanse the
village of his sin.

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Lesson 5 – European Literature – I estranged in the troublous and unsettled times. To the which tournament there came, with
many other knights, Sir Ector, Arthur’s foster-father, who had great possessions near to
The Miracle of the Sword and Stone London, and with him came his son, Sir Key, but recently made knight, to take his part in
jousting, and young Arthur also to witness all the sports and fighting.
Now Arthur, the prince, had all this time been nourished in Sir Ector’s house as his
own son, and was fair and tall and comely, being of the age of fifteen years, great in strength, But as they rode towards the jousts, Sir Key found suddenly he had no sword, for he
gentle in manner, and accomplished in all exercises proper for the training of a knight. had left it at his father’s house; and turning to young Arthur, he prayed him to ride back and
But as yet he knew not of his father, for Merlin had so dealth, that none save Uther fetch it for him. “I will with a good will,” said Arthur, and rode fast back after the sword.
and himself knew aught about him. Wherefore it befell, that many of the knights and barons
who heard King Uther speak before his death, and call his son Arthur his successor, were But when he came to the house he found it locked and empty, for all were gone forth
in great amazement; and some doubted, and others were displeased. to see the tournament. Whereat, being angry and impatient, he said within himself, “I will
ride to the churchyard and take with me the sword that sticketh in the stone, for my brother
Anon the chief lords and princes set forth each to his own land, and, raising, armed shall not go without a sword this day.”
men and multitudes of followers, determined everyone to gain the crown for himself; for they
said in their hearts, “If there be any such a son at all as he of whom this wizard forced the So he rode and came to the churchyard, and alighting from his horse he tied him to
king to speak, who are we that a beardless boy should have rule over us?” the gate, and went to the pavilion, which was pitched near the stone, wherein abode the ten
knights who watched and kept it, but he found no knights there, for all were gone to see the
So the land stood long in great peril, for every lord and baron sought but his own jousting.
advantage; and the Saxons, growing ever more adventurous, wasted and overran the towns
and villages in every part. Then he took the sword by its handle, and lightly and fiercely he pulled it out of the
Then, Merlin went to Brice, the Archbishop of Canterbury, and advised him to require stone, and took his horse and rode until he came to Sir Key and delivered him the sword.
all the earls and barons of the realm and all knights and gentlemen-at-arms to come to him But as soon as Sir Key saw it, he knew well it was the sword of the stone, and riding swiftly
at London, before Christmas, under pain of cursing, that they might learn the will of Heaven to his father, he cried out, “Lo! here, sir, is the sword of the stone, wherefore it is I who must
who should be king. This, therefore, the archbishop did, and upon Christmas Eve were met be king of all this land.”
together in London all the greatest princes, lords, and barons; and long before day they
prayed in St. Paul’s Church, and the archbishop besought Heaven for a sign who should be When Sir Ector saw the sword, he turned back straight with Arthur and Sir Key and
lawful king of all the realm. came to the churchyard, and there alighting, they went all three into the church, and Sir Key
was sworn to tell truly how he came by the sword. Then he confessed it was his brother
And as they prayed, there was seen in the churchyard, set straight before the Arthur who had brought it to him.
doorways of the church, a huge square stone having a naked sword stuck in the midst of it.
And on the sword was written in letters of gold, “Whoso pullet out the sword from this stone Whereat Sir Ector, turning to young Arthur, asked him – “How gottest thou the
is born the rightful King of Britain.” sword?”

At this, all the people wondered greatly; and, when Mass was over, the nobles, “Sir,” said he, “I will tell you. When I went home to fetch my brother’s sword, I found
knights, and princes ran out eagerly from the church to see the stone and sword, and a law nobody to deliver it to me, for all were abroad to the jousts. Yet was I loath to leave my
was forthwith made that whoso should pull out the sword should be acknowledged brother swordless, and, bethinking me of this one, I came hither eagerly to fetch it for him,
straightway King of Britain. and pulled it out of the stone without any pain.”

Then, many knights and barons pulled at the sword with all their might, and some of Then said Sir Ector, much amazed and looking steadfastly on Arthur, “If this indeed
them tried many times, but none could stir or move it. be thus, ‘tis thou who shalt be king of all this land – and God will have it so – for none but
he who should be rightful Lord of Britain might ever draw this sword from that stone. But let
When all had tried in vain, the archbishop declared the man whom Heaven had me now with mine own eyes see thee put back the sword into its place and draw it forth
chosen was not yet there. “But God,” said he, “will doubtless make him known ere many again.”
days.”
“That is no mystery,” said Arthur, and straightway set it in the stone. And then Sir
So ten knights were chosen, being men of high renown, to watch and keep the sword, Ector pulled at it himself, and after him Sir Key, with all his might, but both of them in vain;
and there was proclamation made through all the land that whosoever would, had leave and then Arthur reaching forth his hand and grasping at the pommel, pulled it out easily, and at
liberty to try and pull it from the stone. But though great multitudes of people came, both once.
gentle and simple, for many days, no man could ever move the sword a hair’s breadth from
its place. Then fell Sir Ector down upon his knees upon the ground before young Arthur, and
Sir Key also with him, and straightway did him homage as their sovereign lord.
Now at the New Year’s Eve, a great tournament was to be held in London, which the
archbishop had devised to keep together lords and commons, lest they should grow But Arthur cried aloud, “Alas! mine own dear father and my brother, why kneel ye
thus to me?”
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“Nay, my Lord Arthur,” answered then Sir Ector, “we are of no blood-kinship with thee Slowly the taller figures raises his hand, as if to release the world from its spell, then
and little though I thought how high thy kin might be, yet wast thou never more than foster- touches the boy lightly on the shoulder. ‘Shall we go? It’s getting late.’
child of mine.” And then he told him all he knew about his infancy, and how a stranger had They begin the descent. ‘Tell me more about him.’ says the boy.
delivered him, with a great sum of gold, into his hands to be brought up and nourished as
his own born child, and then had disappeared. ‘He was a great leader,’ his older companion responds. ‘King of Britain, as they called
it then. When he came to the throne the country was under constant attack by its enemies,
But when young Arthur heard of it, he fell upon Sir Ector’s neck, and wept, and made both from outside and within.’
great lamentation, “For now,” said he, “I have in one day lost my father and my mother and
my brother.” Down the steep track they jolt, each for a time absorbed in his own thoughts, the
“Sir,” said Sir Ector presentlym, “when thou shalt be made king, be good and gracious boy’s head buzzing with questions.
unto me and mine.” ‘But what exactly did he do?’

“If not,” said Arthur, “I were no true man’s son at all, for thou art he in all the world to ‘The world had gone mad. The king tried to bring it back to its senses, and restore
whom I owe the most; and my good lady and mother, thy wife, hath ever kept and fostered meaning to people’s lives. He wanted to give them courage and hope for the future. But to
me as though I were her own; so if it be God’s will that I be king hereafter as thou sayest, do that he first had to impose order on chaos.’
desire of me whatever thing thou wilt and I will do it; and God forbid that I should fail thee in “How do you mean, impose?’
it.”
The man nods approvingly. ‘You are right to question that word. He questioned it too.
“I will but pray,” replied Sir Ector, “that thou wilt make my son Sir Key, thy foster- The thought of using force troubled him. But after much heart searching he decided that if
brother, seneschal of all the lands.” mankind was to be saved, he had no other choice. He was given the power to do it, you
see, power so formidable that many thought he had been sent to earth by God, or even that
“That shall he be, “said Arthur; “and never shall another hold that office, save thy he himself was a divine being.’
son, while he and I do live.” (Simoun Victor D. Rodoblaco, Brilliant Creations Publishing, ‘And was he?’
‘No.’
‘So he was just an ordinary man?’

A brief silence. ‘He was a man, but no ordinary man. When he was young he found
it hard to believe he had a special destiny. He wanted to lead a fun life and have a happy
CALL OF DESTINY time, just as most people do. But as he grew older he came to understand that he was not
(excerpt) the same as other men, and that the road he would have to take would be a different one.’
by Alan Fenton ‘Because of the power he had?’
‘Yes. And because of the way he chose to use it.’
On the summit of a hill in the county of Somerset stands a solitary church tower, ‘How do you mean?’
bearing witness to the ferocity of nature and of man. It is all that survives of two churches
that once stood here. The first was destroyed by an earthquake, the second by the ‘Other men would have used it for selfish ends, but not him. He decided to fight the
command of Henry the Eight. As sunset approaches, subtle details of stone and lichen, forces of darkness and chaos. He was a brave and cunning warrior; but he was also much
archway and niche, buttress and embrasure, are lost in the deepening shadows. Silhouetted more than that, a philosopher and a visionary, a wise and humane individual, gallant, just
against the evening sky the stark stone mass of the tower dominates the soft contours of and honourable. Those who ruled by terror feared him. Those whom they terrorised,
the landscape, uniting earth and heaven. worshipped him. And in return he loved and honoured them, the ordinary men and women.
He had a dream, a dream that one day the meek really would inherit the earth. But he knew
A few yards from the base of the tower, on a mound that marks the crest of the Tor they could only do it with his help.’
two motionless figures stand, one taller than the other. Seen from the valley below, their ‘Was there no one else they could turn to?’
dark shapes loom, remote and mysterious. There is a haunting and powerful aura about ‘No one else whom good men and women would follow, no other leader who had the
them, as if they were not people but primeval monoliths or statues of pagan gods in an courage and strength of character to meet the challenge. Not that he was the only one who
ancient burial ground. In some strange way they are beings apart, belonging not to the saw the world descending into chaos; there were leaders in other lands who feared for the
present time, but to time itself. future but were too weak, or too corrupt, or simply too afraid to act. As everything around
them disintegrated, resigned to self-destruction, accepting that mankind was doomed. They
The hill is otherwise deserted, as are the woods at its foot and the countryside had abandoned all hope of changing anything; they no longer cared what happened. But he
beyond. cared. He did everything in his power to create a new world for mankind, a world based on
The red ball of the sun sinks below the horizon, the west wind that has gusted all day love and respect and justice.’
is suddenly stilled. Not a sound, not even a breath of air, disturbs the silence. Nothing stirs. ‘And did he succeed?’
In this hushed moment, the earth and all the planets that only an instant before wheeled ‘For a while. Until things started to go wrong.’
round the sun, seem to hang motionless in space. The boy is impatient. ‘But how? Why? I want to know everything.’
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‘It’s a long story. Are you sure you want to hear it?’ asks the man, teasing his young Lesson 6 – European Literature – II
friend.
‘You know I do!’ Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone
A loving hand rests lightly on the boy’s head. ‘Then you shall.’ by J.K. Rowling
A mole of thought furrows the boy’s brow. ‘Is it just a story? or was there really such Mr. Dursley, a well-off Englishman, notices strange happenings on his way to work
a person?’ one day. That night, Albus Dumbledore, the head of a wizardry academy called Hogwarts,
meets Professor McGonagall, who also teaches at Hogwarts, and a giant named Hagrid
‘There was,’ says the man, adding tantalisingly, ‘and may be again.’ The boy looks outside the Dursley home. Dumbledore tells McGonagall that someone named Voldemort
puzzled. has killed a Mr. and Mrs. Potter and tried unsuccessfully to kill their baby son, Harry.
‘There are those who say that if ever he is needed, he will come again.’ Dumbledore leaves Harry with an explanatory note in a basket in front of the Dursley home.
The boy’s eyes shine. ‘What will he do?
In the twilight the first star shows itself. A pale silver of moon floats above the horizon. Ten years later, the Dursley household is dominated by the Dursley’s son, Dudley,
who torments and bullies Harry. Dudley is spoiled, while Harry is forced to sleep in a
‘Now there’s a question,’ the man says softly. ‘What will he do…? Well now, I imagine cupboard under the stairs. At the zoo on Dudley’s birthday, the glass in front of a boa
he will try to save mankind, just as he did all those centuries ago. Lord knows, we need constrictor exhibit disappears, frightening everyone. Harry is later punished for this incident.
saving.’
The boy nods in acknowledgement, though scarcely understanding. Mysterious letters begin arriving for Harry. They worry Mr. Dursley, who tries to keep
‘You never told me his name.’ them from Harry, but the letters keep arriving through every crack in the house. Finally, he
‘You know it already.’ flees with his family to a secluded island shack on the eve of Harry’s eleventh birthday. At
‘I do?’ midnight, they hear a large bang on the door and Hagrid enters. Hagrid hands Harry an
admissions letter to the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy. Harry learns that the
‘From the story books.’ Dursleys have tried to deny Harry’s wizardry all these years.
the boy stands still and looks up at his beloved mentor, puzzled.
The man looks fondly down. ‘You want a clue?’ The next day, Hagrid takes Harry to London to shop for school supplies. First they
‘Yes.’ go to the wizard bank, Gringotts, where Harry learns that his parents have left him a hefty
‘You have the same name as that king.’ supply of money. They shop on the wizard’s commercial street known as Diagon Alley,
where Harry is fitted for his school uniform. Harry buys books, ingredients for potions, and,
For a second or two the wide eyes dream, catching the starlight, then suddenly finally, a magic wand – the companion wand to the evil Voldemort’s.
sparkle as he laughs with delight. ‘Oh, that king!’ On an impulse he cups his hands around
his mouth and shatters the silence, crying out the name at the top of his voice. ‘Arthur!’ A month later, Harry goes to the train station and catches his train to Hogwarts on
track nine and three quarters. On the train, Harry befriends other first-year students like Ron
Source: https://www.alanfenton.co.uk/the-call-of-destiny-the-first-book-by-author-alan-fenton/
Weasley and Hermione Granger, a Muggle girl chosen to attend Hogwarts. At school, the
first- years take turns putting on the “Sorting Hat” to find out in which residential house they
will live. Harry fears being assigned to the sinister Slytherin house, but he, Ron, and
Hermione end up in the noble Gryffindor house.

As the school year gets underway, Harry discovers that his Potions professor, Snape,
does not like him. Hagrid reassures Harry that Snape has no reason to dislike him. During
their first flying lesson on broomsticks, the students are told to stay grounded while the
teacher takes an injured boy named Neville to the hospital. Draco Malfoy, a Slytherin bully,
snatches Neville’s prized toy and flies off with it to the top of a tree. Harry flies after him.
Malfoy throws the ball in the air, and Harry speeds downward, making a spectacular catch.
Professor McGonagall witnesses this incident. Instead of punishing Harry, she commends
that he play Quidditch, a much-loved game that resembles soccer played on broomsticks,
for Gryffindor. Later that day, Malfoy challenges Harry to a wizard’s duel at midnight. Malfoy
doesn’t show up at the appointed place, and Harry almost gets in trouble. While trying to
hide, he accidentally discovers a fierce three-headed dog guarding a trapdoor in the
forbidden third-floor corridor.

On Halloween, a troll is found in the building. The students are all escorted back to
their dormitories, but Harry and Ron sneak off to find Hermione, who is alone and unaware
of the troll. Unwittingly, they lock the troll in the girl’s bathroom along with Hermione.

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Together, they defeat the troll. Hermione tells a lie to protect Harry and Ron from being Lesson 7 – European Literature – III
punished. During Harry’s first Quidditch match, his broom jerks out of control.
A STUDY IN EMERALD (synopsis)
Hermione notices Snape staring at Harry and muttering a curse. She concludes that he is by Neil Gaiman
jinxing Harry’s broom, and she sets Snape’s clothes on fire. Harry regains control of the
broom and makes a spectacular play to win the Quidditch match. 1. The New Friend
In 1881, the (yet-unnamed) narrator is sent home to convalesce after being wounded
For Christmas, Harry receives his father’s invisibility cloak, and he explores the in the shoulder in Afghanistan. In London, a mutual friend introduces the narrator to a
school, unseen, late at night. He discovers the Mirror of Erised, which displays the deepest potential flatmate. The two meet in the chemical lab of St. Bartholomew’s Hospital, where
desire of whoever looks in it. Harry looks in it and sees his parents alive. After Christmas, the man proceeds to astonish the narrator by deducing that he is a soldier recently returned
Harry, Ron, and Hermione, begin to unravel the mysterious connection between a break-in from Afghanistan. Although the narrator warns the man that he sometimes screams in his
at Gringotts and the three-headed guard dog. They learn that the dog is guarding the sleep, the man humorously replies that he snores, is easily bored, is selfish, and sometimes
Sorcerer’s Stone, which is capable of providing eternal life and unlimited wealth to its owner uses the mantle for target practice. The two take up lodgings in Baker Street, where the
and belongs to Nicolas Flamel, Dumbledore’s old partner. narrator is intrigued by the constant flow of odd visitors that his flatmate receives.
A few weeks later, Hagrid wins a dragon egg in a poker game. Because it is illegal Sometime later the two are eating breakfast when the narrator’s friend perceives that
to own dragons, Harry, Ron, and Hermione contact Ron’s older brother, who studies they will shortly be joined by a client. He is proved right when Inspector Lestrade of Scotland
dragons. They arrange to get rid of the dragon, Fluffy, but get caught. Harry, Ron, and Yard enters, who proceeds to sit down and help himself to some sausages. The narrator’s
Hermione are severely punished, and Gryffindor is docked 150 points. Furthermore, part of friend states that clearly this must be a case of national importance, frightening Lestrade
their punishment is to go into the enchanted forest with Hagrid to find out who has been into believing that the matter was public knowledge. However, he reassures him that he only
killing unicorns recently. In the forest, Harry comes upon a hooded man drinking unicorn deduced so because Lestrade came despite not being able to be publicly seen getting the
blood. The man tries to attack Harry, but Harry is rescued by a friendly centaur who tells advice of London’s only “consulting detective”, and in addition without eating breakfast.
him that his assailant was Voldemort. Harry also learns that it is Voldemort who has been Lestrade, somewhat cautiously, asks whether it would be best for the narrator to leave the
trying to steal the Sorcerer’s Stone. room; however, the detective assures him that it is better he stay. The detective then again
confounds Lestrade by asking when they should leave for Shoreditch (because of the yellow
Harry decides that he must find the stone before Voldemort does. He, Ron, and mud on the inspector’s pants), and accepts the case.
Hermione sneak off that night to the forbidden third-floor corridor. They get past the guard The narrator and the detective travel to the East End of London, though in a separate
dog and perform many impressive feats as they get closer and closer to the stone. Harry cab from Lestrade. On the ride there, the narrator asks his friend about his job as a
ultimately finds himself face to face with Quirrell, who announces that Harry must die. “consulting detective”. The detective responds that he does not take cases: rather, people
Knowing that Harry desires to find the stone, Quirrell puts Harry in front of the Mirror of bring him their insoluble problems, he listens, and sometimes solves them. Most of his
Erised and makes him state what he sees. Harry sees himself with the stone in his pocket, clients are in fact police and detectives who are incapable of solving their crimes. As they
and at that same moment he actually fells it in his pocket. But he tells Quirrell that he sees enter the rookery slum of St Giles, the narrator asks the detective if he is sure he had like
something else. A voice tells Quirrell that the boy is lying and requests to speak to Harry to have him along. The detective replies that he feels the two were meant to be together,
face to face. Quirrell removes his turban and reveals Voldemort’s face on the back of his and that knows the value of a good companion, making the narrator feel self-worth for the
head. Voldemort, who is inhabiting Quirrell’s body, instructs Quirrell to kill Harry, but Quirrell first time since Afghanistan.
is burned by contact with the boy. A struggle ensues and Harry passes out.

When Harry regains consciousness, he is in the hospital with Dumbledore. 2. The Room
Dumbledore explains that he saved Harry from Quirrell just in time. He adds that he and In Shoreditch, the two friends reunite with Lestrade and make for the crime scene,
Flamel have decided to destroy the stone. Harry heads down to the end-of-year banquet, located in a cheap lodging house guarded by policemen. The body lies gutted in the center
where Slytherin is celebrating its seventh consecutive win of the house championship cup. of the room, and green blood is splattered on the floors and walls. On one wall the word
Dumbledore gets up and awards many last-minute points to Gryffindor for the feats of Harry "Rache" is written in the victim's blood, which the detective proceeds to examine. Lestrade
and his friends, winning the house cup for Gryffindor. Harry returns to London to spend the assumes that the victim was writing the name "Rachel". He deduces from the green colour
summer with the Dursleys. ("Sparknotes: Harry Potter And The Sorcerer’S Stone: Plot Overview" 2020) of the blood, the number of limbs on the body, and the nature of the eyes that the victim
was clearly a royal, likely a prince of a German state. Lestrade confirms that the victim was
Prince Franz Drago of Bohemia, a nephew of Queen Victoria who was staying in England
for his health (or, as the detective puts it, for "theatres, whores, and gaming tables"). The
detective, complaining about the police's amateurish efforts destroying the evidence,
proceeds to inspect some splattered mud and a pile of ash. He then states that Lestrade is
foolish to be looking for a woman, as the word "Rache" means "revenge" in German.
After leaving the detective notices the narrator visibly shaken, and asks is it is the
first time he has encountered royalty. The narrator responds yes, to which the detective
replies that he will shortly have the pleasure of meeting a royal in person. The detective

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points out a black carriage with the royal crest emblazoned in gold on the door. The two ears. Once inside a cab, the detective proceeds to tap the tobacco from his pipe into a small
climb into the carriage and head off towards towards the royal palace. tin, and announces that he has found the Tall Man, and hopefully tomorrow will have found
the Limping Doctor.

3. The Palace The narrator reacts with confusion to this, but the detective explains that from the footprints
At the palace the two men are met by the Queen's consort, Prince Albert. The prince at the crime scene he could tell that of the two men in the room, one was very tall: this was
informs them that the queen is very upset, and that is was he who suggested bringing the the Mr Vernet they had just met. The other had a limp, and from the skill which he
detective in to work on the case. The two are ushered in to the Queen's audience chamber, eviscerated the prince, must have been a doctor. As the two get off the cab, the detective
a cavernous, dark room where the Queen, a massive, hulking figure, squats in a corner. tips the man a florin, but finds it odd when he does not stop for another man at the corner.
She beckons them forward with a squirming limb: the narrator is too frightened to move, but
the detective pulls him forward. The Queen places her limb on his shoulder, relieving his
pain and filling him with a sense of-well being. She then communicates (apparently 5. The Skin and the Pit
telepathically) with the detective, who fills her in on the details of the case, stating that there The next morning Lestrade arrives at Baker Street, and posts policemen outside to
were two men in the room with her nephew. After leaving the palace it is already dark, and arrest anyone who tries to leave the building after entering as they wait for Mr Vernet to
the detective says nothing to his companion all the way back to Baker Street. Upon returning arrive. The detective shows his pipe from last night and the vial of ash he collected in
to the house, the narrator looks at his wounded shoulder in the mirror: he notices that some Shoreditch to Lestrade, saying that it is the final nail in the coffin of Mr Vernet. He then asks
color has come back to the formerly frog-white skin. the narrator what he knows of the Restorationists.

Despite Lestrade's obvious discomfort and protestations, the detective proceeds to

4. The Performance explain that the Restorationists are rebels who want to overthrow the Old Ones and put
Over the next ten days the detective leaves the house several times under a number mankind back in control of its own destiny. It was they who killed Prince Franz Drago. The
of masterful disguises, but shares nothing with the narrator about what he has been doing. word "Rache", an old term for a hunting dog as well as meaning revenge, was his signature.
At last the detective asks the narrator if he would like to accompany him to the theatre, an However, the hunter did not kill the prince. The man who wrote the word on the wall was
invitation which he accepts. They head to the Royal Court Theatre, located very near the tall, having written the word at eye-level and tapped his pipe out on the mantle – an unusual
rookery of St Giles on Drury Lane. The narrator, who was expecting some sort of opera, is blend of shag. The footprints in the room indicated that someone had been waiting inside
surprised as the theatre is the worst on the street. As they take their seats in the stalls, the the room, someone who had put more pressure on his right foot. The tall man had entered
detective tells the narrator he should be glad he did not have to accompany him to the the room with the prince, where his accomplice had been waiting to murder him. However,
brothels and gambling-houses, or the madhouses, where the prince also liked to visit. He despite spending days retracing the prince's movements, he had not been able to figure out
begins to tell the narrator that the prince never visited one place more than once, with one who the tall man was until he saw in a Bohemian newspaper, that an English theatrical
exception, but is cut off by orchestra signalling the start of the show. troupe had performed for the prince in Prague. The leading man, Sherry Vernet, was
therefore obviously a restorationist.
The show consists of three one-act plays, the first a comedy of mistaken identity, and
the second a tragedy about an impoverished young violet-seller. The third act, however, is At that moment a knock comes on the door. The three men are disappointed to see
a historical epic entitled "The Great Old Ones Come", which recounts the emergence of the it is not Vernet, or the limping doctor, but rather a young boy with a letter for Mr 'Henry
Old Ones from the sea and their conquest of the world. The show ends with the entire Camberley'. The detective accepts the letter, and asks about the man who gave it to the
audience cheering as a paper moon turns from yellow (as it was in the past) to crimson (as boy: he replies that the man was tall, dark-haired, and smoked a pipe.
the narrator remarks it is currently.)
The letter reveals that the Tall Man knows not only that the detective is not Henry
Following the performance, the detective and narrator go backstage, where the Camberley, but that he knows his real name. He in fact has read a number of his papers,
detective asks for Mr Sherry Vernet. The detective introduces himself as Mr 'Henry and corresponded with him on his paper The Dynamics of an Asteroid.
Camberley', a theatrical promoter from the New World, and his friend as Mr Sebastian.
'Camberley' asks if Vernet wrote the last play: Vernet replies no, although he did devise the He proceeds to list the mistakes the detective made in his disguise when visiting the
magic lantern effects that accompanied it. He declines to name the author, stating that he theatre: firstly, that it is unlikely a pipe-smoking man would have a new pipe and no tobacco;
does not want his connection to the theatre to be known. 'Camberley' acts disappointed, secondly, that it is very unlikely that a theatrical producer would not only be ignorant of the
then brings out a pipe and pats his pockets. Not having any tobacco, he asks for some of usual theatrical payment standards; and thirdly, that he would be accompanied by a taciturn
Vernet's, who gladly gives him some of his. The two smoke while 'Camberley' describes his ex-army officer (whom he also correctly deduces is back from Afghanistan). Furthermore,
vision of a multinational performance tour, starting with the play depicting the arrival of the he advises that cab drivers also have ears, and that in the future it would be best not to take
Old Ones and followed by two more new acts written by the mysterious author. He promises the first cab that comes along.
Vernet fifty percent of the take, if he and his author friend will come to Baker Street the next
morning to draw up the contracts. Vernet announces this to the company, who react Finally, the letter-writer admits that he was the one who lured the "half-blood
enthusiastically. creature" to the room in Shoreditch, after promising him a virginal girl abducted from a
convent in Cornwall whom the prince could easily drive to madness, a practice for which the
After the two leave the theatre, the narrator attempts to ask the detective what he prince (and the other Old Ones) was known. The doctor, who also wrote the play seen, was
was looking for, but is interrupted by his friend, who cautions him that the city has many waiting for them. The letter concludes by saying that the detective almost proved a worthy
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adversary, and the Tall Man will not reveal his name until the world is restored. It is signed Lesson 8 – North American Literature – I
"Rache".
The Hunger Games
Inspector Lestrade leaves with the young urchin for the place where he was given Description of Every District
the letter. The detective comments that the police will likely close all the ports and trains to
prevent them from leaving the country, but that it is more likely that the two are hiding out in District 1: Members of District 1 were known to produce luxury items such as jewelry. Due to their skill in
the rookery of St. Giles until the search dies down. The narrator asks how he knows, to craftsmanship, the goods that came out of District 1 were used to decorate the Capitol. Those
which the detective replies that it is what he would do if their situations were reversed. He who lived in District 1 were some of the wealthiest citizens of Panem. Tributes from District 1
advises the narrator to burn the letter. were known as "Careers" because they trained for years before competing in the Hunger Games.

District 2: Located in the Rocky Mountains, District 2 was one of the largest communities in Panem. It was
In the end, Lestrade keeps his job, and Prince Albert writes a letter congratulating also home to wealthy citizens, resulting in a positive relationship with the Capitol. District 2 was
the detective on his job, though lamenting that the criminal is still at large. Sherry Vernet known for its masonry and weapon manufacturing.
remains at large, his true identity unknown, as does his accomplice, tentatively identified as
John (or James) Watson, another veteran of the Afghan war. The narrator's shoulder District 3: The main industry in District 3 was technology as the people there produced televisions,
computers, and other electronics. During Katniss' Victory Tour, she noticed that District 3 was
continues to heal where the Queen touched it, and he comments that soon he shall be able one of the more rebellious districts.
to shoot once again. The narrator asks the detective if he remembered his correspondence
with Rache, to which the detective replies that he did, though at the time he had been using District 4: This district specialized in the fishing industry. The citizens in District 4 were known to be wealthy
the name "Sigerson". Finally the Palace sends word that the Queen was pleased, finally and very good-looking. Their tributes were also Careers, training from a very early age to prepare
closing the case: however, the narrator is unconvinced, saying it will not be over until either for the Games.
the detective or Rache kills the other.
District 5: District 5 was responsible for power and electricity. The area produced the electricity that
powered all of Panem. They housed a hydroelectric dam which many of the citizens worked in.
The story concludes with the narrator requesting for his manuscript to be sealed in a The dam became a target by the rebels in Mockingjay as they tried to cut out the power in the
strongbox and not opened until everyone is dead, though this may be closer than he Capitol.
anticipates due to recent events in Russia. The letter concludes with the signature "S_ M_,
Major (retired), Baker Street, London, New Albion, 1881."("A Study In Emerald" 2020) District 6: The core industry within District 6 was transportation. It served as the hub for the transport
network throughout all of Panem. Like District 3, District 6 supported Katniss and the rebellion's
efforts against the Capitol.

District 7: District 7 supplied Panem with copious supplies of lumber. The area was said to be surrounded
mostly by trees.

District 8: District 8 was known for their work in the textiles industry. One of their factories was dedicated to
producing the uniforms used by the Peacekeepers. Along with a few other districts, District 8 was
instantly open to joining the rebellion.

District 9: The main industry at the focus of District 9 was grain production. The area was the least referenced
district in all of Panem. Not much is known about the victors or tributes from District 9.

District 10: District 10 focused on the livestock industry. Their main job was to raise animals and supply
the meat to the Capitol. Katniss never mentioned any of the specific tributes from District 10.

District 11: District 11 was said to be composed of a very large area, possibly the entire Southern region
of Panem. Agriculture was the main industry of District 11 as the land was covered in
orchards, crop fields, and cattle farms. District 11 was one of the poorest districts and its
citizens lived in small shacks in an area patrolled by Peacekeepers.

District 12: District 12 was the smallest and poorest district in Panem. The district was in Appalachia and
its main industry was coal mining. After the Second Rebellion, the coal mine was closed, and
the district began to produce medicines.

Source: https://screenrant.com/hunger-games-districts-explained/

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Lesson 10 – Latin American Literature – I
Lesson 9 – North American Literature – II
Eva is Inside Her Cat
Death All of a sudden she noticed that her beauty had fallen all apart on her, that it had
by Emily Dickinson begun to pain her physically like a tumor or a cancer. She still remembered the weight of
the privilege she had borne over her body during adolescence, which she had dropped now
Because I could not stop for Death, – who knows where? – with the weariness of resignation, with the final gesture of a declining
He kindly stopped for me; creature. It was impossible to bear that burden any longer. She had to drop that useless
The carriage held but just ourselves attribute of her personality somewhere; as she turned a corner, somewhere in the outskirts.
And Immortality. Or leave it behind on the coatrack of a second-rate restaurant like some old useless coat.
She was tired of being the center of attention, of being under siege from men’s long looks.
We slowly drove, he knew no haste, At night, when insomnia stuck its pins into her eyes, she would have liked to be an ordinary
And I had put away woman, without any special attraction. Everything was hostile to her within the four walls of
My labor, and my leisure too, her room. Desperate, she could feel her vigil spreading out under her skin, into her head,
For his civility. pushing the fever upward toward the roots of her hair. It was as if her arteries had become
peopled with hot, tiny insects who, with the approach of dawn, awoke each day and ran
We passed the school, where children strove about on their moving feet in a rending subcutaneous adventure in that place of clay made
At recess, in the ring; fruit where her anatomical beauty had found its home. In vain she struggled to chase those
We passed the fields of gazing grain, terrible creatures away. She couldn’t. They were part of her own organism. They’d been
We passed the setting sun. there, alive, since much before her physical existence. They came from the heart of her
father, who had fed them painfully during his nights of desperate solitude. Or maybe they
Or rather, he passed us; had poured into her arteries through the cord that linked her to her mother ever since the
The dews grew quivering and chill, beginning of the world. There was no doubt that those insects had not been born
For only gossamer my gown, spontaneously inside her body. She knew that they came from back there, that all who bore
My tippet only tulle. her surname had to bear them, had to suffer them as she did when insomnia held
unconquerable sway until dawn. It was those very insects who painted that bitter
We paused before a house that seemed expression, that unconsolable sadness on the faces of her forebears. She had seen them
A swelling of the ground; looking out of their extinguished existence, out of their ancient portraits, victims of that same
The roof was scarcely visible, anguish. She still remembered the disquieting face of the great grandmother who, from her
The cornice but a mound. aged canvas, begged for a minute of rest, a second of peace from those insects who there,
in the channels of her blood, kept on martyrizing her, pitilessly beautifying her. No. Those
Since then ‘tis centuries, and yet each insects didn’t belong to her. They came, transmitted from generation to generation,
Feels shorter than the day sustaining with their tiny armor all the prestige of a select caste, a painfully select group.
I first surmised the horses’ heads Those insects had been born in the womb of the first woman who had had a beautiful
Were toward eternity. daughter. But it was necessary, urgent, to put a stop to that heritage. Someone must
renounce the eternal transmission of that artificial beauty. It was no good for women of her
breed to admire themselves as they came back from their mirrors if during the night those
creatures did their slow, effective, ceaseless work with a constancy of centuries. It was no
Source: https://www.scribd.com/document/412634387/21st-Century-Literature-of-the- longer beauty, it was a sickness that had to be halted, that had to be cut off in some bold
Philippines-and-of-the-World-1 and radical way.

She still remembered the endless hours spent on that bed sown with hot needles.
Those nights when she tried to speed time along so that with the arrival of daylight the
beasts would stop hurting her. What good was beauty like that? Night after night, sunken in
her desperation, she thought it would have been better for her to have been an ordinary
woman, or a man. But that useless virtue was denied her, fed by insects of remote origin
who were hastening the irrevocable arrival of her death. Maybe she would have been happy
if she had had the same lack of grace, that same desolate ugliness, as her Czechoslovakian
friend who had a dog’s name. She would have been better off ugly, so that she could sleep
peacefully like any other Christian.
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And yet they had left him there, where he was imperturbable now, wretched, feeding his
She cursed her ancestors. They were to blame for her insomnia. They had blood with the mud of earthworms. And she had to resign herself to seeing him return from
transmitted that exact, invariable beauty, as if after death mothers shook and renewed their the depths of his shadows. Because always, invariably, when she lay awake she began to
heads in order to graft them onto the trunks of their daughters. It was as if the same head, think about the “boy,” who must be calling her from his piece of earth to help him flee that
a single head, had been continuously transmitted, with the same ears, the same nose, the absurd death.
identical mouth, with its weighty intelligence, to all the women who were to receive it
irremediably like a painful inheritance of beauty. It was there, in the transmission of the But now, in her new life, temporal and spaceless, she was more tranquil. She knew
head, that the eternal microbe that came through across generations had been accentuated, that outside her world there, everything would keep going on with the same rhythm as
had taken on personality, strength, until it became an invincible being, an incurable illness, before; that her room would still be sunken in early-morning darkness, and her things, her
which upon reaching her, after having passed through a complicated process of judgment, furniture, her thirteen favourite books, all in place. And that on her unoccupied bed, the body
could no longer be borne and was bitter and painful… just like a tumor or a cancer. aroma that filled the void of what had been a whole woman was only now beginning to
evaporate. But how could “that” happen? How could she, after being a beautiful woman, her
It was during those hours of wakefulness that she remembered the things blood peopled by insects, pursued by the fear of the total night, have the immense, wakeful
disagreeable to her fine sensibility. She remembered the objects that made up the nightmare now of entering a strange, unknown world where all dimensions had been
sentimental universe where, as in a chemical stew, those microbes of despair had been eliminated? She remembered. That night – the night of her passage – had been colder than
cultivated. During those nights, with her big round eyes open and frightened, she bore the usual and she was alone in the house, martyrized by insomnia. No one disturbed the
weight of darkness that fell upon her temples like molten lead. Everything was asleep silence, and the smell that came from the garden was a smell of fear. Sweat broke out on
around her. And from her corner, in order to bring on sleep, she tried to go back over her her body as if the blood in her arteries were pouring out its cargo of insects. She wanted
childhood memories. someone to pass by on the street, someone who would shout, would shatter that halted
atmosphere. For something to move in nature, for the earth to move around the sun again.
But that remembering always ended with a terror of the unknown. Always after But it was useless.
wandering through the dark corners of the house, her thoughts would find themselves face
to face with fear. Then the struggle would begin. The real struggle against three unmovable There was no waking up even for those imbecilic men who had fallen asleep under
enemies. She would never – no, she would never – be able to shake the fear from her head. her ear, inside the pillow. She, too, was motionless. The walls gave off a strong smell of
She would have to bear it as it clutched at her throat. And all just to live in that ancient fresh paint, that thick, grand smell that you don’t smell with your nose but with your stomach.
mansion, to sleep alone in that corner, away from the rest of the world. And on the table the single clock, pounding on the silence with its mortal machinery.
“Time…oh, time!” she sighed, remembering death. And there in the courtyard, under the
Her thoughts always went down along the damp, dark passageways, shaking the dry orange tree, the “boy” was still weeping with his tiny sob from the other world.
cobweb-covered dust off the portraits. That disturbing and fearsome dust that fell from
above, from the place where the bones of her ancestors were falling apart. Invariably she She took refuge in all her beliefs. Why didn’t it dawn right then and there or why didn’t
remembered the “boy.” She imagined him there, sleepwalking under the grass in the she die once and for all? She had never thought that beauty would cost her so many
courtyard beside the orange tree, a handful of wet earth in his mouth. She seemed to see sacrifices. At that moment – as usual – it still pained her on top of her fear. And underneath
him in his clay depths, digging upward with his nails, his teeth, fleeing the cold that bit into her fear those implacable insects were still martyrizing her. Death had squeezed her into
his back, looking for the exit into the courtyard through that small tunnel where they had life like a spider, biting her in a rage, ready to make her succumb. But the final moment was
placed him along with the snails. In winter she would hear him weeping with his tiny sob, taking its time. Her hands, those hands that men squeezed like imbeciles with manifest
mud-covered, drenched with rain. She imagined him intact. Just as they had left him five animal nervousness, were motionless, paralyzed by fear, by that irrational terror that came
years before in that water-filled hole. She couldn’t think of him as having decomposed. On from within, with no motive, just from knowing that she was abandoned in that ancient
the contrary, he was probably most handsome sailing along in that thick water as on a house. She tried to react and couldn’t. Fear had corporeal, as if it were some invisible person
voyage with no escape. Or she saw him alive but frightened, afraid of feeling himself alone, who had made up his mind not to leave her room. And the most upsetting part was that the
buried in such a somber courtyard. She herself had been against their leaving him there, fear had no justification at all, that it was a unique fear, without any reason, a fear just
under the orange tree, so close to the house. She was afraid of him. She knew that on nights because.
when insomnia hounded her he would sense it. He would come back along the wide
corridors to ask her to stay with him, ask her to defend him against those other insects, who The saliva had grown thick on her tongue. That hard gum that stuck to her palate
were eating at the roots of his violets. He would come back to have her let him sleep beside and flowed because she was unable to contain it was bothersome between her teeth. It was
her as he did when he was alive. She was afraid of feeling him beside her again after he a desire that was quite different from thirst. A superior desire that she was feeling for the
had leaped over the wall of death. She was afraid of stealing those hands that the “boy” first time in her life. For a moment she forgot about her beauty, her insomnia, and her
would always keep closed to warm up his little piece of ice. She wished, after she saw him irrational fear. She didn’t recognize herself.
turned into cement, like the statue of fear fallen in the mud, she wished that they would take For an instant she thought that the microbes had left her body. She felt that they’d
him far away so that she would not remember him at night. come out stuck to her saliva. Yes, that was all very fine. It was fine that the insects no longer
occupied her and that she could sleep now, but she had to find a way to dissolve that resin
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that dulled her tongue. If she could only get to the pantry and … But what was she thinking through her, overwhelming her, making her aware of that other physical universe that moved
about? She gave a start of surprise. She’d never felt “that desire.” The urgency of the acidity outside her world. She couldn’t hear, she couldn’t see, but she knew about that sound and
had debilitated her, rendering useless the discipline that she had faithfully followed for so that sight. And there, in the heights of her superior world, she began to know that an
many years ever since the day they had buried the “boy.” It was foolish, but she felt revulsion environment of anguish surrounded her.
about eating an orange. She knew that the “boy” had climbed up to the orange blossoms
and that the fruit of next autumn would be swollen with his flesh, cooled by the coolness of Just a moment before – according to our temporal world – she had made the
his death. No. She couldn’t eat them. She knew that under every orange tree in the world passage, so that only now was she beginning to know the peculiarities, the characteristics,
there was a boy buried, sweetening the fruit with the lime of his bones. Nevertheless, she of her new world. Around her an absolute, radical darkness spun. How long would that
had to eat an orange now. It was the only thing for that gum that was smothering her. It was darkness last? Would she have to get used to it for eternity? Her anguish grew from her
the foolishness to think that the “boy” was inside a fruit. She would take advantage of that concentration as she saw herself sunken in that thick impenetrable fog: could she be in
moment in which beauty had stopped paining her to get to the pantry. But wasn’t that limbo? She shuddered. She remembered everything she had heard about limbo. If she
strange? It was the first time in her life that she’d felt a real urge to eat an orange. She really was there, floating beside her were other pure spirits, those of children who had died
became happy, happy. Oh, what pleasure! Eating an orange. She didn’t know why, but without baptism, who had been dying for a thousand years. In the darkness she tried to find
she’d never had such a demanding desire. She would get up, happy to be a normal woman next to her those beings who must have been much purer, ever so much simpler, than she.
again, singing merrily until she got to the pantry, singing merrily like a new woman, newborn. Completely isolated from the physical world, condemned to a sleepwalking and eternal life.
She would, even get to the courtyard and… Maybe the “boy” was there looking for an exit that would lead him to his body. But no. Why
should she be in limbo? Had she died, perhaps? No. It was simply a change in state, a
Her memory was suddenly cut off. She remembered that she had tried to get up and normal passage from the physical world to an easier, uncomplicated world, where all
that she was no longer in her bed, that her body had disappeared, that her thirteen favourite dimensions had been eliminated.
books were no longer there, that she was no longer she, now that she was bodiless, floating,
drifting over an absolute nothingness, changed into an amorphous dot, tiny, lacking Now she would not have to bear those subterranean insects. Her beauty had
direction. She was unable to pinpoint what had happened. She was confused. She just had collapsed on her. Now, in that elemental situation, she could be happy. Although – oh! – not
the sensation that someone had pushed her into space from the top of a precipice. She felt completely happy, because now her greatest desire, the desire to eat an orange, had
changed into an abstract, imaginary being. She felt changed into an incorporeal woman, become impossible. It was the only thing that might have caused her still to want to be in
something like her suddenly having entered that high and unknown world of pure spirits. her first life. To be able to satisfy the urgency of the acidity that still persisted after the
passage. She tried to orient herself so as to reach the pantry and feel, if nothing else, the
She was afraid again. But it was a different fear from what she had felt a moment cool and sour company of the oranges. It was then that she discovered a new characteristic
before. It was no longer the fear of the “boy” ’s weeping. It was a terror of the strange, of of her world: she was everywhere in the house, in the courtyard, on the roof, even in the
what was mysterious and unknown in her new world. And to think that all of it had happened “boy” ‘s orange tree. She was in the whole physical world there beyond. And yet she was
so innocently, with so much naivete on her part. What would she tell her mother when she nowhere. She became upset again. She had lost control over herself. Now she was under
told her what had happened when she got home? She began to think about how alarmed a superior will, she was a useless being, absurd, good for nothing. Without knowing why,
the neighbors would be when they opened the door to her bedroom and discovered that the she began to feel sad. She almost began to feel nostalgia for her beauty: for the beauty that
bed was empty, that the locks had not been touched, that no one had been able to enter or had foolishly ruined her.
to leave, and that, nonetheless, she wasn’t there. She imagined her mother’s desperate
movements as she searched through the room, conjecturing, wondering “what could have But one supreme idea reanimated her. Hadn’t she heard, perhaps, that pure spirits
become of that girl?” The scene was clear to her. The neighbors would arrive and begin to can penetrate any body at will? After all, what harm was there in trying? She attempted to
weave comments together – some of them malicious – concerning her disappearance. Each remember what inhabitant of the house could be put to the proof. If she could fulfil her aim
would think according to his own and particular way of thinking. Each would try to offer the she would be satisfied: she could eat the orange. She remembered. At that time the
most logical explanation, the most acceptable, at least, while her mother would run along servants were usually not there. Her mother still hadn’t arrived. But the need to eat an
all the corridors in the big house, desperate, calling her by name. orange, joined now to the curiosity of seeing herself incarnate in a body different from her
own, obliged her to act at once. And yet there was no one there in whom she could incarnate
And there she would be. She would contemplate the moment, detail by detail, from herself. It was a desolating bit of reason: there was nobody in the house. She would have
a corner, from the ceiling, from the chinks in the wall, from anywhere; from the best angle, to live eternally isolated from the outside world, in her undimensional world, unable to eat
shielded by her bodiless state, in her spacelessness. It bothered her, thinking about it. Now the first orange. And all because of a foolish thing. It would have been better to go on bearing
she realized her mistake. She wouldn’t be able to give any explanation, clear anything up, up for a few more years that hostile beauty and not wipe herself out forever, making herself
console anybody. No living being could be informed of her transformation. Now – perhaps useless, like a conquered beast. But it was too late.
the only time that she needed them – she wouldn’t have a mouth, arms, so that everybody
could know that she was there, in her corner, separated from the three-dimensional world She was going to withdraw, disappointed, into a distant region of the universe, to a
by an unbridgeable distance. In her new life she was isolated, completely prevented from place where she could forget all her earthly desires. But something made her suddenly hold
grasping emotions. But at every moment something was vibrating in her, a shudder that ran back. The promise of a better future had opened up in her unknown region. Yes, there was
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Second Quarter Literary Samples Second Quarter Literary Samples

someone in the house in whom she could reincarnate herself: the cat! Then she hesitated.
It was difficult to resign herself to live inside an animal. She would have soft, white fur, and
a great energy for a leap would probably be concentrated in her muscles. And she would Lesson 11 – Latin American Literature – I
feel her eyes glow in the dark like two green coals. And she would have white, sharp teeth
to smile at her mother from her feline heart with a broad and good animal smile. But no! It
couldn’t be. She imagined herself quickly inside the body of the cat, running through the Sonnet XVII by Pablo Neruda
corridors of the house once more, managing four uncomfortable legs, and that tail would
move on its own, without rhythm, alien to her will. What would life look like through those
green and luminous eyes? At night she would go to mew at the sky so that it would not pour
its moonlit cement down on the face of the “boy,” who would be on his back drinking in the From 100 Love Sonnets From Cien Sonetos de amor
dew. Maybe in her status as a cat she would also feel fear. And maybe in the end, she
would be unable to eat the orange with that carnivorous mouth. A coldness that came from XVII XVII
right then and there, born of the very roots of her spirit quivered in her memory. No. It was No te amo como si fueras rosa de sal, I don’t love you as if you were a rose of
impossible to incarnate herself in the cat. She was afraid of one day feeling in her palate in topacio salt, topaz,
her throat in all her quadruped organism, the irrevocable desire to eat a mouse. Probably o fleche de claveles que propagan el or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:
when her spirit began to inhabit the cat’s body she would no longer feel any desire to eat fuego: I love you as one loves certain obscure
an orange but the repugnant and urgent desire to eat a mouse. She shuddered on thinking te amo como se aman ciertas cosas things,
oscuras, secretly, between the shadow and the
about it, caught between her teeth after the chase. She felt it struggling in its last attempts
secretamente, entre la sombre y el alma. soul.
at escape, trying to free itself to get back to tis hole again. No. Anything but that. It was
preferable to stay there for eternity in that distant and mysterious world of pure spirits.
Te amo como la planta que no florece y I love you as the plant that doesn’t bloom
But it was difficult to resign herself to live forgotten forever. Why did she have to feel lleva but carries
the desire to eat a mouse? Who would rule in that synthesis of woman and cat? Would the the light of those flowers, hidden, within
dentro de si, escondida, la luz de itself,
primitive animal instinct of the body rule, or the pure will of the woman? The answer was aquellas flores, and thanks to your love the tight aroma
crystal clear. There was no reason to be afraid. She would incarnate herself in the cat and y gracias a tu amor vive oscuro en mi that arose
would eat her desired orange. Besides, she would be a strange being, a cat with the cuerpo from the earth lives dimly in my body.
intelligence of a beautiful woman. She would be the center of all attention… It was then, for el apretado aromo que ascendio de la
the first time, that she understood that above all her virtues what was in command was the tierra.
vanity of a metaphysical woman.
Te amo sin saber como, ni cuando, ni de I love you without knowing how, or when,
donde, or from where
Like an insect on the alert which raises its antennae, she put her energy to work I love you directly without problems or
throughout the house in search of the cat. It must still be on top of the stove at that time, Te amo directamente sin problemas ni pride:
dreaming that it would wake up with a sprig of heliotrope between its teeth. But it wasn’t orgullo: I love you like this because I don’t know
there. She looked for it again, but she could no longer find the stove. The kitchen wasn’t the Asi te amo porque no se amar de otra any other way to love,
manera,
same. The corners of the house were strange to her; they were no longer those dark corners
full of cobwebs. The cat was nowhere to be found. She looked on the roof, in the trees, in Sino asi de este modo en que no soy ni except in this form in which I am not nor
the drains, under the bed, in the pantry. She found everything confused. Where she eres, are you,
expected to find the portraits of her ancestors again, she found only a bottle of arsenic. From Tan cerca que tu mano sobre mi pecho so close that your hand upon my chest is
there on she found arsenic all through the house, but the cat had disappeared. The house es mia, mine,
was no longer the same as before. What had happened to her things? Why were her thirteen Tan cerca que se cierran tus ojos con mi so close that your eyes close with my
sueño. dreams.
favourite books now covered with a thick coat of arsenic? She remembered the orange tree
in the courtyard. She looked for it, and tried to find the “boy” again in his pit of water. But the
orange tree wasn’t in its place and the “boy” was nothing now but a handful of arsenic mixed - translated and ©Mark Eisner 2004, from
with ashes underneath a heavy concrete platform. Now she really was going to sleep. City Lights’ The Essential Neruda
Everything was different. And the house had a strong smell of arsenic that beat on her
nostrils as if from the depts. of a pharmacy.
Only then did she understand that three thousand years had passed since the day Source: https://www.scribd.com/document/412634387/21st-Century-Literature-of-the-Philippines-and-of-
she had had a desire to eat the first orange. the-World-1)

Source: https://www.scribd.com/document/412634387/21st-Century-Literature-of-the-Philippines-and-of-the-World-1)
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