Category Archives: Comprehensions

This article first appeared in the Irish Independent Written Word Supplement on Monday 26th January 2015

We tend to think of writing and photography as separate domains. Writing is all about word choice and sequence and structure; it’s about rhyme and rhythm and flow. Photography, on the other hand, is about framing and colour and light; it’s about focus and shutter speed and zooming in or out.

But what they have in common transcends what sets them apart. Both writers and photographers combine the raw materials of their craft in ways which can surprise and delight.

Photos and prose have the power to:

• evoke an atmosphere
• capture a moment
• re-create an event whose time has passed forever
• draw us in emotionally to the human drama of life, be it real or imaginary
• arouse our curiosity
• awaken our senses
• conjure up cultures and experiences we would otherwise never encounter.

Context will determine which of the elements listed below combine to create a new work, whether written or visual. Some elements are unique to their medium; others transcend the boundaries between the two, but the key feature which unites writer and photographer is their devotion to creating powerful and memorable imagery.

Some of the ingredients they might use include:
• colour
• light and shade
• setting
• facial expressions and body language
• angle / perspective
• framing / zoom / focus
• objects / symbolism
• senses
• rhyme / sound effects
Have a look at the extract and the accompanying image below. Ask yourself which of the elements listed above are being used by the writer and photographer and what effect, if any, they’re having on you the reader / viewer?

I didn’t plan it. I just desperately wanted to get home and not be in that car anymore. Mum had the heat pumped to the max to keep the windscreen clear but somehow the heat was adding to the clutter in my head, like the fog had evaporated from the glass and translocated into my brain. Then we hit the tailback. Miles of orange lights winking into the distance and suddenly I couldn’t bear it anymore. The silence and the heat and the oppressive weight of the tension between us. So I got out. Slammed the door, but gently, just enough so she wouldn’t have to reach over and close it again, straining the already torn rotator cuff in her left shoulder.

And then I walked. Slowly at first, glancing in at sad faces trapped in time. Rolls of fat cascading from a stubbly chin chowing down a breakfast bap; ruby lipstick caressing the wrinkly mouth of a glamorous granny; then a crying baby and a screaming couple and suddenly I pick up speed, turning to the landscape, the barren trees and the empty fields, the turloughs and the reeds and my heart rate lifts and I think ‘she’ll never catch me’ and all I can feel is the heat as my muscles strain and stretch and sing and I pray the tailback lasts forever.
Now, imagine you’ve been asked to answer the following question:

‘Imagery, both written and visual, contributes to the tense atmosphere in this extract’.
To what extent do you agree with this statement? In your answer, refer to both the written text and to the photograph which accompanies it.

Here’s a sample answer:

I find I’m not entirely in agreement with this statement, as I find the atmosphere in the photograph quite soothing. The imagery in the written text undoubtedly contributes to the tension we experience as we read. The writer zooms in on the heat and the windscreen condensation to effectively re-create the sense of claustrophobia felt by the narrator. As she observes that “somehow the heat was adding to the clutter in my brain, like the fog had evaporated from the glass and translocated into my brain”, the emphasis on confusion, on fog and on feeling too overheated is compounded when they hit a tailback. All of this imagery powerfully evokes the narrator’s frustration and her use of auditory images later in the passage, in the ‘crying baby and screaming couple’ ramps up the tension even higher.

However, in my opinion it is exclusively in the interaction between the written and visual elements that a tense atmosphere might be ascribed to the photograph. If I had seen the photo, but had not read the passage which accompanies it, I think the dominant emotion I would feel looking at it is amusement, not tension. Taken by itself, it’s a funny photo. The photographer has cleverly emphasised the irony of being told to ‘slow down’ when you’re stuck in an endless tailback by stripping the image of colour entirely, but retaining the ‘miles of orange lights winking into the distance’ in the brake lights of the cars and in the neon sign. The orange light against the black and white background catches your eye and forces you to register the humour of the situation the drivers find themselves in. Furthermore, the bare trees on the horizon add an autumnal feel and for me, the atmosphere in the photo, if examined in isolation, is quite restful. I will admit, however, that when you read the passage and then look at the photo, you do find yourself thinking less about the season and more about the frustration the drivers of these cars must be feeling as they sit there trapped in their cars.

This article first appeared in the Irish Independent Written Word Supplement on Monday 26th January 2015.

When you’re asked to read a passage and respond to it, certain skills are being tested. Do you understand what you’ve just read? Can you retrieve information quickly and re-phrase it in your own words? Can you read between the lines and comment on what is implied as well as what is openly stated? Can you identify gaps and speculate as to what information might have been deliberately excluded because it didn’t fit with the writer’s agenda? Do you understand the writer’s stylistic choices and can you elaborate on how certain words, phrases or images impact on your emotions?

Developing these skills is a process that takes place over a lifetime. Read more. Read widely. Read challenging material. But don’t let it simply wash over you. You also need to practice responding, to hone your critical thinking skills and to develop your understanding of language and genre. If you’re one of those people who has something to say about everything, provided your logic is sound, this is the place for you to shine!

Remember also that the word text is used in an all-encompassing way. Visual images which accompany the written element are considered part of the text and this includes not just photos but also paintings, cartoons, graphs and book covers. However, the questions will usually specify whether they want you to refer to the written or the visual elements or to a combination of the two in your answer.

Just as fashions come and go, certain trends emerge and often just as quickly disappear from exam papers.

Visuals:

Currently, questions relating to the visuals are highly specific and often ask you to connect the written and visual elements. For example:

– How does this image develop your understanding of the concept explored in the text? (this question related to a passage and photos exploring the cliffhanger as a storytelling device)

– How do the written and visual elements combine to capture a particular location and atmosphere? (asked both in relation to an Irish Times article about Grand Central Station and to the setting of Richard Ford’s novel Canada)

For the time being, these type of questions seem to have replaced more generic questions such as

“Write a personal response to the visual image that made the most impact on you. You might consider the subject matter, setting, mood, caption, relevancy, photographic qualities / techniques etc… [use of colour, light, objects, details]” .

However, it’s worth remembering that exams are by their very nature unpredictable so what is a trend one year can fall out of fashion completely by the next!

Stylistic features:

A similar change has occurred in the style questions. The days of generic “Identify and comment on three features of the writer’s style” type questions appear to be over, and really, that’s no harm. It made it far too easy for students to waffle on in a general way about ‘rhetorical questions’ and ‘vivid imagery’ without really saying anything insightful or specific at all.

You do still get some questions that ask you to identify and comment on genre specific features, for example, features of effective speech-writing; the effectiveness of the passage as a piece of travel writing; or the autobiographical elements you found most engaging. Here you’re being tested on your awareness of the conventions of different genres, so once again, a very close reading of the text in front of you is an absolute must.

However, for the most part, the style questions being asked are now even more specific, so getting up close and personal with the piece of writing you’re supposed to be analysing is an absolute must.

For example, you’ll be given a statement:

– ‘Ford’s writing is characterised by its engaging narrative, lyrical beauty and concrete realism‘.

– ‘One of Heaney’s gifts as a writer was his ability to make complex and profound ideas accessible to the general reader‘.

– ‘The New Yorker has been described as a magazine that informs, entertains and comments‘.

Then you’ll be asked to what extent you agree with this statement and you’ll be instructed to refer to specific features of the writer’s style to support the points you make.

Two quick pieces of advice here.

1. Underline and number each element in the question so you don’t skip over or ignore part of the statement in your answer.

2. Don’t feel you have to agree 100% with the statement. You’re asked ‘to what extent’ you agree, so you’re being encouraged to perhaps partially agree, but also to problematise the statement. Maybe it overlooks something significant? Perhaps you agree with some elements of what’s being said but less so with others? Simply agreeing with everything that’s thrown at you prevents you in some ways from showing off your critical thinking skills, because if you just nod and agree, you’re not being at all critical, now are you?