Al-Quds University

Faculty of Arts
Department of English Language and Literature
Literary appreciation 0402205

Final Exam

Number of questions:- Eight

Wednesday:17/12/2014 From 9:00-11:00

Rooms:- AR-01/ AR-023

:Student Name

Matriculation Number:

Instructor: Randa Abuhilal

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Part one/ unseen

Part one (12 POINT)

-:Read the following short story and answer the questions Below

The Law of Life

by Jack London

The old Indian was sitting on the snow. It was Koskoosh, former chief
of his tribe. Now, all he could do was sit and listen to the others. His
eyes were old.  He could not see, but his ears were wide open to every
sound.

"Aha." That was the sound of his daughter, Sit-cum-to-ha.  She was
beating the dogs, trying to make them stand in front of the snow
sleds.  He was forgotten by her, and by the others, too. They had to
look for new hunting grounds. The long, snowy ride waited. The days
of the northlands were growing short. The tribe could not wait for
death. Koskoosh was dying.

The stiff, crackling noises of frozen animal skins told him that the
chief's tent was being torn down. The chief was a mighty hunter. He
was his son, the son of Koskoosh.  Koskoosh was being left to die.

As the women worked, old Koskoosh could hear his son's voice drive
them to work faster. He listened harder. It was the last time he would
hear that voice. A child cried, and a woman sang softly to quiet it. The
child was Koo-tee, the old man thought, a sickly child. It would die
soon, and they would burn a hole in the frozen ground to bury it. They
would cover its small body with stones to keep the wolves away.

"Well, what of it? A few years, and in the end, death. Death waited
ever hungry. Death had the hungriest stomach of all."

Koskoosh listened to other sounds he would hear no more: the men

tying strong leather rope around the sleds to hold their belongings;
the sharp sounds of leather whips, ordering the dogs to move and pull
the sleds.

"Listen to the dogs cry. How they hated the work."

They were off.  Sled after sled moved slowly away into the silence.
They had passed out of his life.  He must meet his last hour alone.

"But what was that?" The snow packed down hard under someone's
shoes. A man stood beside him, and placed a hand gently on his old

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head. His son was good to do this. He remembered other old men
whose sons had not done this, who had left without a goodbye.

His mind traveled into the past until his son's voice brought him
back.  "It is well with you?" his son asked. And the old man answered,
"It is well."

"There is wood next to you and the fire burns bright," the son said.
"The morning is gray and the cold is here. It will snow soon.  Even
now it is snowing. Ahh, even now it is snowing.

"The tribesmen hurry. Their loads are heavy and their stomachs flat
from little food. The way is long and they travel fast. I go now. All is
well?"

"It is well. I am as last year's leaf that sticks to the tree. The first
breath that blows will knock me to the ground. My voice is like an old
woman's. My eyes no longer show me the way my feet go. I am tired
and all is well."

He lowered his head to his chest and listened to the snow as his son
rode away. He felt the sticks of wood next to him again. One by one,
the fire would eat them.  And step by step, death would cover him.
When the last stick was gone, the cold would come. First, his feet
would freeze. Then, his hands. The cold would travel slowly from the
outside to the inside of him, and he would rest. It was easy…all men
must die.

He felt sorrow, but he did not think of his sorrow.  It was the way of
life.  He had lived close to the earth, and the law was not new to him. 
It was the law of the body.  Nature was not kind to the body.  She was
not thoughtful of the person alone.  She was interested only in the
group, the race, the species.

This was a deep thought for old Koskoosh. He had seen examples of it
in all his life. The tree sap in early spring; the new-born green leaf,
soft and fresh as skin; the fall of the yellowed, dry leaf. In this alone
was all history.

He placed another stick on the fire and began to remember his past.
He had been a great chief, too. He had seen days of much food and
laughter; fat stomachs when food was left to rot and spoil; times when
they left animals alone, unkilled; days when women had many
children.  And he had seen days of no food and empty stomachs, days
when the fish did not come, and the animals were hard to find.

For seven years the animals did not come. Then, he remembered
when as a small boy how he watched the wolves kill a moose. He was
with his friend Zing-ha, who was killed later in the Yukon River.

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Ah, but the moose. Zing-ha and he had gone out to play that day. 
Down by the river they saw fresh steps of a big, heavy moose.  "He's
an old one," Zing-ha had said.  "He cannot run like the others. He has
fallen behind. The wolves have separated him from the others. They
will never leave him."

And so it was. By day and night, never stopping, biting at his nose,
biting at his feet, the wolves stayed with him until the end.

Zing-ha and he had felt the blood quicken in their bodies. The end
would be a sight to see.

They had followed the steps of the moose and the wolves.  Each step
told a different story.  They could see the tragedy as it happened: here
was the place the moose stopped to fight.  The snow was packed down
for many feet. One wolf had been caught by the heavy feet of the
moose and kicked to death.  Further on, they saw how the moose had
struggled to escape up a hill.  But the wolves had attacked from
behind.  The moose had fallen down and crushed two wolves. Yet, it
was clear the end was near.

The snow was red ahead of them. Then they heard the sounds of
battle.  He and Zing-ha moved closer, on their stomachs, so the
wolves would not see them.  They saw the end. The picture was so
strong it had stayed with him all his life.  His dull, blind eyes saw the
end again as they had in the far off past.

For long, his mind saw his past. The fire began to die out, and the
cold entered his body.  He placed two more sticks on it, just two more
left. This would be how long he would live.

It was very lonely. He placed one of the last pieces of wood on the fire. 
Listen, what a strange noise for wood to make in the fire.  No, it wasn't
wood.  His body shook as he recognized the sound…wolves.

The cry of a wolf brought the picture of the old moose back to him
again.  He saw the body torn to pieces, with fresh blood running on
the snow.  He saw the clean bones lying gray against the frozen
blood.  He saw the rushing forms of the gray wolves, their shinning
eyes, their long wet tongues and sharp teeth.  And he saw them form
a circle and move ever slowly closer and closer.

A cold, wet nose touched his face.  At the touch, his soul jumped
forward to awaken him. His hand went to the fire and he pulled a
burning stick from it.  The wolf saw the fire, but was not afraid.  It
turned and howled into the air to his brother wolves. They answered
with hunger in their throats, and came running.

The old Indian listened to the hungry wolves.  He heard them form a
circle around him and his small fire.  He waved his burning stick at

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them, but they did not move away.  Now, one of them moved closer,
slowly, as if to test the old man's strength.  Another and another
followed.  The circle grew smaller and smaller.  Not one wolf stayed
behind.

Why should he fight?  Why cling to life?  And he dropped his stick
with the fire on the end of it.  It fell in the snow and the light went out.

The circle of wolves moved closer. Once again the old Indian saw the
picture of the moose as it struggled before the end came.  He dropped
his head to his knees. What did it matter after all?  Isn't this the law
of life?

Q.1- How does the story make you feel? (2pts)

Q.2- In a well formed paragraph of no more than 15 lines

discuss the theme of the story; explain how the literary elements
that the author used helped you analyze the theme. (10pts)

Part two/ seen

Q.3- In two well -formed paragraphs of 20 lines identify and

discuss the use of allegory and symbolism in Nathaniel
Hawthorne's short story ' young Goodman brown . Focus on
explaining the allegorical use of 'faith' and what does faith
signify for Goodman brown also explain how it effects on the
turning point of his character by the end of the story and
what reactions it evokes? ( 13points)

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Part Three Poetry

)15POINTS(

Read this short poem titled ' A noiseless Patient Spider' and
-:answer the questions below

A NOISELESS, patient spider,  
I mark’d, where, on a little promontory, it stood, isolated;  
Mark’d how, to explore the vacant, vast surrounding,  
It launch’d forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself;  
     
Ever unreeling them—ever tirelessly speeding them.     
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And you, O my Soul, where you stand,  
Surrounded, surrounded, in measureless oceans of space,  
Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing,—seeking the spheres,  
to connect them;
Till the bridge you will need, be form’d—till the ductile anchor  
hold;
Till the gossamer thread you fling, catch somewhere, O my   10
Soul.

Q.4 Can you identify the speaker in this poem? Why or why
not? (2PTS)

Q.5 What is the poem's purpose? (1PTS)

Q.6. What does the spider )2PTS(

?symbolize

Q.7. In three sentences describe the scene depicted through the

images in this poem (3PTS)

Q.8. In a well-formed paragraph of no more than 12 lines Identify

and discuss the metaphor in relation to Whitman's poem a
noiseless Patient Spider. (7PTS)