RELATED TEXT SAMPLE PARAGRAPHS (A-RANGE)

2022 essay question: The construction of texts that question widely held beliefs compels us to
reflect upon our own ideas and values.

‘BEAUTIFUL WORLD, WHERE ARE YOU’ – SALLY ROONEY (NOVEL)

In undermining widespread fragmentation and despair generated by upheaval through explorations

of the solace of microcosmic interactions, texts provide a critical framework for audiences to
reflect upon and shift their worldviews. Sally Rooney’s Beautiful World, Where Are You triggers
audiences to re-evaluate nihilistic, despondent worldviews by exploring the beauty and importance
of interpersonal connection in defiance of 21st century environmental destruction, institutional
injustices and capitalist economic structures. Initially, Rooney explores the universality of the
psychological turmoil generated by contemporary upheavals through the authentic, stream of
consciousness e-mail correspondence between the novel’s protagonists “Cars are ugly, buildings
are ugly, mass-produced consumer goods are unspeakably ugly”, affirming readers’ existing
perspectives to create a foundational connection toward the audience. Hence, Rooney is able to
more powerfully and authentically subvert predisposed nihilism throughout the novel, juxtaposing
prior vulgarity to explore the power of personal perspective shifts “As long as you both live, the
world will be beautiful to me”, compelling readers to reflect upon the despair and fragmentation
constructed by their own nihilistic worldviews, and instead shift their perspectives toward the
sanction of the microcosmic. Moreover, Rooney subverts contextual expectations of political
awareness, oscillating toward idiosyncratic third person omniscient narration, as in “we can care…
whether people break up or stay together… only if we have successfully forgotten about all the
things more important, i.e. everything”, to didactically compel readers to dissent from contextual
predispositions which generate despair, and instead shift their priorities toward the consolidation of
individualistic, microcosmic interactions. Finally, Rooney subverts fragmentation generated by
contextual upheavals by exploring the functionality of simplistic human connections in subjugating
despair through dark humour, “Humanity [is] on the cusp of extinction, [and] here I am writing
another email about sex and friendship. What else is there to live for?”, imperatively confronting
viewers to reconsider the value of interpersonal unity, and thus shift their existing values to seek
the crucial solace it generates. Thus, by subverting widespread, fragmented despair, Rooney’s
novel compels audiences to reconsider their ubiquitous worldviews, constructing a pivotal source
of solace from socio-political turmoil in the unity of microcosmic interactions.
‘KLARA AND THE SUN’ – KAZUO ISHIGURO (NOVEL)

Texts reframing omnipresent social values during periods of rapid technological advancements compel
readers to re-evaluate passive acceptances of immoral social progressions, ameliorating fragmentations
otherwise generated by technological upheaval. Kazuo Ishiguro’s Klara and the Sun explores 21st
century knowledge engineering, and consequential automation processes, through a dystopian lens;
urging readers to reconsider their passive acceptance of technological upheavals. Fundamentally,
Ishiguro evocatively subverts contextual reverence of artificial intelligence technologies, exploring their
fabrication of social fragmentations through the confronting plot line of Capaldi’s robotic ‘recreations’
of deceased children, given “there’s nothing unique about [humans]. nothing our modern tools can’t
excavate, copy, transfer”, triggering audiences to reconsider the moral integrity of their complacency
toward automation processes. Ishiguro additionally explores psychological despair and fragmentation
generated by hyper-automation, imploring inclusive language and existential, rhetorical questioning
through the protagonist in “The human heart. Do you think there is such a thing? Something that makes
each of us special?”, to compel readers to question the innate moral worth of contextual technological
advancements. However, in juxtaposing the sinister nature of automation, Ishiguro simultaneously
reframes the remarkable authenticity of the human condition through the ingenue narrative voice of
Klara, a robot ,“They seem so happy,’ I said. ‘But it’s strange because they also seem upset’, to compel
readers to further disdain the innate functionality of intelligence technologies, and their value within
contemporary society. This subversion is further, didactically perpetuated in Klara’s discovery of the
authentic irreplaceability of human unity, “I believe there would have remained something beyond my
reach. Mother, Rick, ... I'd never have reached what they felt for Josie in their hearts”, imploring
audience reconsideration of the candour of artificial intelligences, and re-evaluation of their passive
subjections to automation processes. Thus, Ishiguro’s novel subverts the value of intelligence
technologies within the contemporary world by exploring their fabrication of psychosocial
fragmentations, as well as literal impediments, compelling readers to reconsider their passive acceptance
of widespread technological automation and subsequent social upheavals.
‘DEATH OF A SALESMAN’ – ARTHUR MILLER (PLAY)

As texts representing upheaval explore the destructive consequences of social pressures influencing
our perception of personal meaning, we are led to reject the enforcement of societal paradigms.
Influenced by America’s toxic post-war idealism, Miller’s Death of a Salesman acts as a cautionary
tale, highlighting the loss of identity a cultural conflation of personal meaning with success has
upon Willy Loman, a dysfunctional salesman, and his sons Biff and Happy. Miller's depiction of
the adverse effects of professional failure within idealistic societies expresses contextual
disillusionment with the ‘American dream’, demonstrated through the play’s interwoven dream
sequences wherein Willy oscillates between interactions with his accomplished brother, “that man
was success incarnate”, and with his family, the juxtaposition between his idealised fantasy and
sordid reality highlighting his despair. Miller explores the inability to accept failure, engendered by
the fear of meaninglessness, evidenced by Willy’s characterisation as contradictory as he declares
his personal significance, “[in an uncontrolled outburst] I am not a dime a dozen!”, the emotive
tone signified by stage directions highlighting his adamant refusal to accept his own mediocrity as
“if personal meaning… lies in success, then anything less must threaten identity itself”, as
suggested by Christopher Bigsby. Miller frames socially constructed notions of success as
detrimental, urging audiences to reject them as Biff regrets his conformity to Willy’s ideals of
accomplishment in his monologue, “what am I doing in an office… when all I want is out there”,
wherein rhetorical questioning highlights the restoration he seeks as identity is realised. Miller
compels reflection upon our definitions of personal meaning through his portrayal of the Loman
sons at Willy’s funeral, “BIFF: The man didn’t know who he was. HAPPY: Don’t say that!”, the
juxtaposition of their perspectives revealing how only by introspection upon personal motivations
can we diverge from the continual cycle of despair and upheaval. Thus, shaped by the prevalent
idealism of his post-war context, Miller’s Death of a Salesman explores the deterioration of identity
as social pressures influence meaning, impelling reflection upon our own conformity with societal
paradigms.
‘PARASITE’ – BONG JOON-HO (FILM)

Within contemporary contexts, upheaval may catalyse the formation of societal schisms, contextual
literature’s critique of the structures and systems which engender inequality prompting us to
evaluate our perceptions of class. Bong’s Parasite reflects the massive class disparity of
contemporary South Korea following the rapid economic growth of the late twentieth century,
providing a sympathetic portrayal of an impoverished Korean family’s futile pursuit of material
progression. Bong metaphorically establishes the class distinctions of contemporary society
through juxtaposition of the film’s opening shot, a close-up of a small street level window within
the Kim’s semi-basement home, with the introductory shot of the Park home; an upward pan of the
house engulfed in sunlight, Bong’s use of light as a symbol for status conveying the disparate lives
of the families. Bong condemns the drastic action necessitated by the capitalist structure of a
divisive Korea, shown through montage as the Kim’s implant themselves into the Park household,
the non-diegetic music building to a dramatic crescendo as their immoral action’s extent is realised,
evoking an emotional response to the extreme measures enacted in the pursuit of material
progression, thus impelling musings upon the systems which warrant them. Bong reprimands the
systemic barriers which inhibit the Kim's ability to societally advance, expressed through the motif
of smell as an indicator of class, “It’s the basement smell… it won’t go away unless we leave this
place”, whereby the irremovable marker of poverty carried by the Kim’s highlights inherent
adversity experienced by lower-class members of Korean society. Bong ultimately elicits sympathy
for the Kims’ predicament, portraying their desire for societal justice as futile within a context of
economic upheaval, evidenced through a secondary motif of the viewing stone, a cultural symbol
of wealth. Following the Kim home’s destruction, a close-up of Ki-woo clutching the stone
symbolically reveals how despite proximity to wealth, economic equality is unattainable as their
subservient positions uphold the dominant upper-class, thus supporting rejection of class as an
indicator of virtue. Parasite’s questioning of societal systems which perpetuate upheaval and
inequality compels us to reflect upon our perceptions of resultant class structures.
‘GRODEK’ – GEORG TRAKL (POEM)

However, Shelley’s Romantic optimism in the potential for the regeneration of human spiritual
connection is denied by immoral industrialism during the ascent of WWI, during which Trakl
ideologies a new, disturbing ‘god’, borne of the destructivity of modern technologies, forcing
audiences to negotiate the rejection of religion and the loss of the scientific as the ultimate human
achievement. Trakl poetically recounts the eponymous battle, a Ukrainian conflict with devastating
loss of life, subverting Shelley’s romanticist style, pitting the spiritual against the human by
conjuring a deeply subliminal image of ‘red clouds inhabited by an angry god, shedding blood and
the chill of the moon’. He thus implies how the destruction of human loyalties throughout the
course of war creates huge upheaval towards a nascent secularism, abandoning traditional religions
for near-worship of human dominance. Fractures between the natural world and modernity are
further apparent throughout Grodek, with the juxtaposition of the romantic natural ‘autumn
woodlands …. golden plains and lakes of blue….’ and the wrenchingly evocative language of
‘warrior dying and the wild lament of their fragmented mouths’, destroying the pre-WWI notion of
the sublime as a testament to the beauty of naturality, emphasising the overwhelming horror which
th
this new and highly devastating form of conflict brought to the early 20 century. In addition,
Trakl metaphorically signals the destruction of future histories and anti-humanist sentiment through
use of ‘black decay’ and ‘The hot flame of the spirit is fed by a more monstrous pain, The
grandsons unborn’, with this war a ‘sacrifice’ to an untraditional god who draws strength from
destruction. Indeed, Trakl’s use of metonymy parses ‘iron altars’ as a symbolic representation of
industrialism, serving to drown society ‘in the mire’ of violence and immorality whose effects can
still be detected within our modern industrialised and largely materialistic capitalist society. Hence,
Trakl exploits his poetry to urge a reckoning into the turmoil of new scientific, spiritual and
humanist ideologies.
‘KLARA AND THE SUN’ – KAZUO ISHIGURO (NOVEL)

The ramifications of the upheaval prompted by Enlightenment scientific rationalism reach a climax
as Ishiguro forces readers today to confront the consequences of the ultimate fulfilment of
Shelley’s Frankensteinian model. While Ishiguro’s creation/creature, the robotic ‘Artificial Friend’
Klara, has gained a disturbingly convincing humanity in her recreation of a spiritual dimension
through deliberate capitalisation and idolisation of the Sun ‘The hand I’d been holding out whilst
crossing the Sun’s rays (...) I prayed’, Ishiguro’s humans/creators have in turn been reduced to a
singular value system of personal hedonistic egoism, evidenced by constant emphasis on a cycle of
amelioration then rejection: ‘You could have a B3 (...) No one you know has a B3 (...) she’s only a
B2’. The contrast of the would-be material robot to the would-be emotional human, combined with
Ishiguro’s immediate betrayal of integral science-fiction archetypes forces readers to realise that
the would-be sci-fi has now become modern materialistic reality. Ishiguro further seizes with
compartmentalising attention upon the quotidian, the ‘houses of three separate boxes’, ‘spaces
partitioned’ and ‘in a third box (..) a part of her jaw (...) I detected anger’, continuing Beckett’s
micro-narrative focus on personal story and detail to expose the destruction of the science-fiction
genre. By looking at ordinary individuals within normalised worlds, literature’s focus shifts from
warning against the future to recounting the now and reveals the failure of Enlightenment ideals in
achieving positive progress. Ultimately, Klara’s abandonment, ‘unable to move (...) frozen’,
allegorically works as representative of humanity’s ironically cyclical nature: because of planned
obsolescence, and societal belief in perpetual technological progress, it systematically destroys all
strongholds of potential empathetic connection. Ergo, Ishiguro’s postmodernist work prompts
viewers to question their own materialism and internally reconcile the dichotomous rise of
technological progress with a loss of emotion.
‘THE SECOND COMING’ – W.B. YEATS (POEM)

Yeats’ The Second Coming conjures the zeitgeist of hopelessness and instability felt after the
catastrophic first World War, where the representation of faith lost in both humanity and salvation
promised by religion, reflects the disintegration of traditional values in times of upheaval. In the
first lines of the poem, Yeats conveys a mounting sense of disorder in the repetition of ‘Turning
and turning in the widening gyre’, where the imagery of restless, circular motion splintering
outwards from the ‘centre that cannot hold’ reflects his context’s decaying ideological stability, as
individuals face the predicament of finding solace from extreme emotional and moral duress,
despite wartime atrocities which jeopardise solace offered by religion or human unity. Yeats
extends upon this sentiment, cultivating a sense of foreboding, dread and inevitability through the
prophetic first person narration and compellingly rhythmic enjambment, explicated by Wheeler
(1974) ‘An order of meaning is restored in which the agonies of “anarchy” find their necessary
place’. Furthermore, Yeats poses a significant challenge to the infalliability of religious and
political institutions of his time, through his admittance of existential terror and uncertainty. The
author achieves this through his subversive biblical allusions throughout the poem, which
culminates in the final line as the persona asks ‘what rough beast… Slouches towards Bethlehem
to be born?’, where he rhetorically questions the fate of a world descended to complete war, hatred
and destruction, representing and reflecting theological uncertainty in times of upheaval. Yeats’
poem invites audiences to consider what values will endure throughout cultural turmoil.
‘THE DRESSMAKER’ – JOCELYN MOORHOUSE (FILM)

Moorhouse’s The Dressmaker, subverts the romanticised, outback-town narrative that has
historically permeated the European-Australian literary canon, highlighting the implosive
tendencies of insular, morally decrepit communities and necessity of inspecting current values to
encourage positive change. In nations where colonial sovereignty has never ceased, destructive
qualities such as prejudice continue to affect vulnerable people, while those of higher status remain
unaware or in denial. The Dressmaker’s feature-film form and appropriation of elements from the
idealised small-town narrative trope, such as rural Australian landscape imagery, effectively targets
its upper class Australian audience by utilising a familiar mode of fiction consumption, and using
this initial comfort to increase audience immersion in the literary world, allowing the resonant
delivery of a challenging cultural commentary. Extending this notion, The Dressmaker discusses
the central role of prejudice in morally dilapidated communities, demonstrating it as the medium
through which corruption, causal revenge and consequence pervade the town of Dungatar. This is
expressed through the film’s fragmented timeline, where recurring flashbacks intertwine with
real-time revelations to represent the disorientation felt by protagonist Tilly, as she uncovers the
web of events instigated by prejudice which led to her being outcast from town as a child. In
addition to the agonisingly unjust impact prejudiced communities have on individuals, The
Dressmaker emphasises the fragility and inherent self destructiveness of these communities,
exemplified through Dungatar, the town adamantly refusing to defer from traditional values, self
imploding. The symbolic motif of fire, where flame imagery progresses from Tilly’s lit cigarette, to
her bonfire, to the moment she vengefully sets the entire town alight, connotes a mounting tension
and anger caused by Dungatar’s inability to relinquish damaging tradition for positive change,
while also conjuring imagery of cleansing, especially given the environmental context of
Australian landscape where fire, a seasonal phenomena, violently hastens the process of decay,
annihilates rot and provides room for new growth. The Dressmaker was crafted to invoke close
cultural introspection and affirm the necessity for change in a stoically colonial nation, which due
to unresolved prejudices, exists not only in a state of upheaval, but of denial. It declares we must
be open to change, warning that if not, it will find us in a more destructive, violent form.
‘PLAYTIME’ – JACQUES TATI (FILM)

As composers reflect on their personal alienation within a world of upheaval, the connection
between individuals and their disunified society is exemplified, revealing the enduring importance
of identity when seeking solace. Jacques Tati’s realist comedy Playtime views the modernisation of
France in the 1960s as ultimately dehumanising, emulating Vladimir and Estragon’s purposeless
existence through Monsieur Hulot’s concentric journey through Paris, yet suggests a sense of
identity as a panacea for the resulting societal detachment he experienced during this time. The
relationship between Tati’s characters and their urban environment reflects Tati’s own sense of
detachment from the rapid modernisation of his native Paris, his concerns of ‘the disappearance of
any respect for the individual’4 present in his framing of an apartment at night, whereby the camera
is positioned across the street; watching Monsieur Hulot through a glass window creates a sense of
voyeurism, thus emphasising the alienation of individuals from their own identity during times of
uncertainty. Tati further exposes modern architecture as completely detached from individual
expression, exemplified in the film’s opening as the sterile mise-en-scene creates an ambiguous
setting that is only signified as an airport by the presence of a passing flight attendant, reflecting
the signification of spaces as dependent on human identity, thus asserting individuality as
paramount to finding unity amidst the dehumanising urbanisation of 1960s France. However, Tati
suggests the pursuit of solace through individual expression as a salvation from the disunification
of modernity in the film’s closing sequence, wherein brightly coloured cars traversing a roundabout
contrast with the muted colours of the surrounding urban environment. The juxtaposition of colour
despite the structured conformity of the roundabout separates the freedoms of the human condition
from the constrictive urbanisation of Tati’s 1960s context, thus revealing a resolution from
upheaval that compels reflections upon solace within our own modernised society. Hence, fostering
a sense of identity within the collectivist alienation of Tati’s modernised context allows for
individual solace, despite a destabilised society, engendering contemporary reflections on
individuality.