India Reid

Stage 1 English
SACE No – 326830H

Task 4 – Poetry Text Transformation Part 2

James died a year ago, 19th of July 2017. I’m on my bed as I stare at the chest full of his things, memories such as the
bracelet he gave me for my 16th. I sigh, as I think about the bells that chimed as we laid his body into the ground, and
the shrill, demented choirs of my parent’s cries. Since that day, it’s like he never existed, that there are no more voices
of mourning for him. His room is still there though rotting away, like the memories of him.

I only awake from my memories when I hear a chime from my phone, a distraction from my thoughts. I get up sluggishly
slow, walk to the other side of my bed and grab my phone from the bedside, a crappy iPhone 5.

Samantha: “hey Liv, do you wanna catch up tn x”

Samantha’s one of my closest friend, and was a great support with the grief of my brother, so I’m assuming she realises
what day it is.

Liv: “i think ill just stay at home, thanks tho x”

I haven’t hung out with my friends in a while as it makes me feel bad, having fun without him. It gets hard, especially
pretending everything’s okay, so I don’t get the worrying looks of my friends. No one understands what it’s like and
how easily life can be taken away. Why wasn’t it me? I’m the troubled one, while my brother was the perfect child.
He had perfect grades and never ruined anything. He was planning on signing up to the army, “fighting for the helpless”
he’d say.

I feel so lonely since he’s been gone. My parents are no help, and a friend can only do so much. I just wish he was here
so I could talk about, well him. Now, there are no prayers or bells that should alert the whole world to my brothers’
anniversary. Of how important he was to me, and how kind and compassionate he was. Everyone just moves along,
unaware of how small and insignificant we are. Of how, like my family, things can be ripped apart, and the things you
once loved will never come back to you.

After an hour passed, I decided to get up and start the day. I grabbed a towel and rushed into the shower, trying to
cleanse myself of this tragic time. As the soap dripped from my body, I thought about him, and started to cry. The
tears mixing with the clean water as I tried to hold myself. Once I got dressed, I headed downstairs to be greeted with
the sombre good mornings of my parents. They both looked extremely tired while drinking massive dark cups of liquid.
To deal with my brother’s death, they had both plunged into work, although I was not sure how well it was working.

I also poured myself a cup of the dark liquid, deciding not to use my regular mug, but instead my brothers, which
pictured scenes from MCU. As I sat down, both my parents glanced at my cup then at each other, but didn’t say a
word. I knew they understood what day it was, but instead of comforting me, they kept at their usual tactics of ignoring
everything.

After the silence of the breakfast table, I got up and addressed them both.
“I’m going to school; I’ll see you tonight”

Then to my surprise my parents got up and looked me in the eyes.

“We love you Liv”, my father said with a watery smile. I looked up at my mum and she nodded like everything was
going to be okay. I smiled back and enveloped both of them in a hug. I started to cry as I realised everything would be
okay.

Writers Statement

The Anthem for Doomed Youth describes how trivial youth are in war. It represents ideas such as death, youth, people
dismissing death and the struggles of surviving a loved one’s death. Owen’s idea of the struggles of surviving a loved
 India Reid
Stage 1 English
SACE No – 326830H

one’s death is presented throughout this transformative text. The idea is briefly mentioned at the end of the original
poem, in line 12, “pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall”. This line talks about the grief the youth soldiers loved ones
experienced, especially their significant others. The story mirrors this idea in more depth, using a modern perspective.

The tone in the poem is saddening and describes death, which helps the audience sympathise with the people within
each text. This is the same tone as the transformative text, as the same theme wanted to be expressed throughout
the two.

Anthem of the Doomed Youth is in third person omniscient perspective, as the narrator knows the thoughts and
feelings of all of the characters in the text. In contrast, the perspective of the transformative text is first person, as it
is written through the lens of the main character. The intended audience for both these poems is the same, directed
towards anyone who does not understand the effects of death. Comparing these poems, the audience can get two
different perspectives of youth death which increases their awareness.

Within the transformative text, many direct quotes were used from the original poem. “The shrill, demented choirs”,
“passing bells”, and “no more voices of mourning” were used to describe both deaths in the texts. “No prayers nor
bells” were also used within both texts to help describe how no one seems to care about the deaths of their loved
ones. This shows the use of quotation, a type of intertextuality. Allusion was also used, as there was a subtle reference
to the poem in the transformative text. This is shown, as both texts have the same target audience, literary techniques
and tone.

Owen’s use of alliteration which helps the flow of the poem, is expressed through “the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle”.
This inspired the use of alliteration within the text, an example being “sluggishly slow”, to help the reader picture Liv
and help the flow of the text. Owen also uses rhetorical questions to help make a point clear without expecting
answers. This technique is used within the text, “Why wasn’t it me”, to help show that the character questions her
existence every day.