Dangers and Portrayal of Mountaineers in 'Dead Climber' and 'Touching the Void', Study Guides, Projects, Research of English Language

Download Dangers and Portrayal of Mountaineers in 'Dead Climber' and 'Touching the Void' and more Study Guides, Projects, Research English Language in PDF only on Docsity! Answer all the questions in Section A and one question in Section B. Section A: Non-Fiction and Media. You are advised to spend about one hour on Section A. Read carefully the two passages, ‘Dead Climber’ (included below) and ‘Touching the Void’, and then answer questions 1, 2 and 3. These questions will be marked for reading. 1) Dead Climber Referring carefully to the magazine article, outline concisely what dangers climbers face. Use your own words as far as possible. [10] 2) Dead Climber Explore how the article portrays both Erhard and mountaineering. In your answer, refer to both the presentation and the content of the article. [15] 3) Touching the Void How does Joe Simpson convey his thoughts and feelings to the reader? [15] In your answer, refer to the language he uses and the tone created. Section B: Writing You are advised to spend about one hour on Section B. Answer EITHER question 4 OR question 5. This answer will be marked for writing. Plan your answer and write it carefully. Leave enough time to check through what you have written. Either 4) Extreme sports should be banned. Write your views in a letter to the editor of the magazine which published Dead Climber. [40] Or 5) A local newspaper is featuring a series of articles called “Extreme!” Write an account for the newspaper of a time when you, or someone you know, experienced the extreme. [40] Touching the Void is a true account of a horrific mountaineering accident experienced by Joe Simpson and Simon Yates. While descending from a difficult and very remote mountain peak in South America, Joe fell and smashed his leg. Simon had to lower him down in stages to get him off the mountain. However, half way down Joe is lowered accidentally over a part of the mountain he cannot climb back from. Simon is left holding Joe’s weight, without knowing what has happened. He has to make the decision to cut the rope. This extract is from Joe’s point of view, as he waits, hanging and helpless, for whatever will happen next. I lolled on the rope, scarcely able to hold my head up. An awful weariness washed through me, and with it a fervent hope that this endless hanging would soon be over. There was no need for the torture. I wanted with all my heart for it to finish. The rope jolted down a few inches. How long will you be, Simon? I thought. How long before you join me? It would be soon. I could feel the rope tremble again; wire-tight, it told me the truth as well as any phone call. So! It ends here. Pity! I hope somebody finds us, and knows we climbed the West Face. I don’t want to disappear without trace. They’d never know we did it. The wind swung me in a gentle circle. I looked at the crevasse beneath me, waiting for me. It was big. Twenty feet wide at least. I guessed that I was hanging fifty feet above it. It stretched along the base of the ice cliff. Below me it was covered with a roof of snow, but to the right it opened out and a dark space yawned there. Bottomless, I thought idly. No. They’re never bottomless. I wonder how deep I will go? To the bottom...to the water at the bottom? God! I hope not. Another jerk. Above me the rope sawed through the cliff edge, dislodging chunks of crusty ice. I stared at it stretching into the darkness above. Cold had long since won its battle. There was no feeling in my arms and legs. Everything slowed and softened. Thoughts became idle questions, never answered. I accepted that I was to die. There was no alternative. It caused me no dreadful fear. I was numb with cold and felt no pain; so senselessly cold that I craved sleep and cared nothing for the consequences. It would be a dreamless sleep. Reality had become a nightmare, and sleep beckoned insistently; a black hole calling me, pain-free, lost in time, like death. My torch beam died. The cold had killed the batteries. I saw stars in the dark gap above me. Stars, or lights in my head. The storm was over. The stars were good to see. I was glad to see them again. Old friends come back. They seemed far away; further than I’d ever seen them before. And bright: you’d think them gemstones hanging there, floating in the air above. Some moved, little winking moves, on and off, on and off, floating the brightest sparks of light down to me. Then, what I had waited for pounced on me. The stars went out, and I fell. Like something come alive, the rope lashed violently against my face and I fell silently, endlessly into nothingness, as if dreaming of falling. I fell fast, faster than thought, and my stomach protested at the swooping speed of it. I swept down, and from far above I saw myself falling and felt nothing. No thoughts, and all fears gone away. So this is it! A whoomphing impact on my back broke the dream, and the snow engulfed me. I felt cold wetness on my cheeks. I wasn’t stopping, and for an instant blinding moment I was frightened. Now, the crevasse! Ahhh...NO!!