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Exams - Preparing For The Exam - Tasks and Texts
Exams - Preparing For The Exam - Tasks and Texts
Heidrun Dorgeloh
1. You will be asked to find examples in one of the texts below of the following syntactic
concepts (categories and functions) and to discuss the evidence with me for the
classification and/or distinction you apply. (NOTE: there may not be instances of ALL
categories in one text)
(2) Over the past week there’s been endless coverage of Harry & Meghan, Netflix’s most‐viewed
documentary premiere, the show that’s offered the pair a chance to win the all‐out narrative war that
has emerged between them and the palace.
Who will emerge victorious? It depends where you’re watching. In the UK, Meghan is pilloried as a
traitor – especially by rightwing columnists like Jeremy Clarkson and Piers Morgan – but in the US her
story plays as an emotional one and commentators cannot tell it without analyzing the palace’s
treatment of her from a racial lens. Some Black American fans of the duchess see parallels in her story
to their own lives. Writing for the New York Times, the activist and scholar Salamishah Tillet said
Meghan’s exasperated remark that she’d “tried so hard” to fit into the royal mold rang true as “a
frustratingly familiar refrain” for women of color.
Bryndis Roberts, a longtime follower of the royals who grew up in the segregated south, told the BBC
she had watched the series “with tears in [her] eyes”.
US reporters, unfettered by British servility, have less of a problem with critiques of the royals. When
The View’s conservative voice, Alyssa Farah Griffin, complained that the couple couldn’t really be
“suffering” since they live in a $30m mansion, Sunny Hostin responded with a strong defense. “They
are suffering, and they took over their narrative, and they have every single right to do that, and I think
what they went through in terms of how racist that family was against her, in terms of how racist that
country was against her, that’s something that King Charles can handle and can take care of, and he
seems not to be able to do that,” Hostin said.
(3) The painter had been busy mixing his colours and getting his brushes ready. He was looking worried,
and when he heard Lord Henry's last remark, he glanced at him, hesitated for a moment, and then
said, "Harry, I want to finish this picture to‐day. Would you think it awfully rude of me if I asked you to
go away?"
Lord Henry smiled and looked at Dorian Gray. "Am I to go, Mr. Gray?" he asked.
"Oh, please don't, Lord Henry. I see that Basil is in one of his sulky moods, and I can't bear him when
he sulks. Besides, I want you to tell me why I should not go in for philanthropy."
"I don't know that I shall tell you that, Mr. Gray. It is so tedious a subject that one would have to talk
seriously about it. But I certainly shall not run away, now that you have asked me to stop. You don't
really mind, Basil, do you? You have often told me that you liked your sitters to have someone to chat
to."
(4) Nearly ten years had passed since the Dursleys had woken up to find their nephew on the front
step, but Privet Drive had hardly changed at all. The sun rose on the same tidy front gardens and lit up
the brass number four on the Dursleys' front door; it crept into their living room, which was almost
exactly the same as it had been on the night when Mr. Dursley had seen that fateful news report about
the owls. Only the photographs on the mantelpiece really showed how much time had passed. Ten
years ago, there had been lots of pictures of what looked like a large pink beach ball wearing different‐
colored bonnets ‐ but Dudley Dursley was no longer a baby, and now the photographs showed a large
blond boy riding his first bicycle, on a carousel at the fair, playing a computer game with his father,
being hugged and kissed by his mother. The room held no sign at all that another boy lived in the
house, too.
Yet Harry Potter was still there, asleep at the moment, but not for long. His Aunt Petunia was awake
and it was her shrill voice that made the first noise of the day.
Harry woke with a start. His aunt rapped on the door again.
"Up!" she screeched. Harry heard her walking toward the kitchen and then the sound of the frying pan
being put on the stove. He rolled onto his back and tried to remember the dream he had been having.
It had been a good one. There had been a flying motorcycle in it. He had a funny feeling he'd had the
same dream before.