For any comparison question you must point out both similarities and differences.
You must analyse language and language only which could link to words that build the Overall Tone, Words with specific connotations or Language devices (OWL).
As you read through the texts you should also be quickly highlighting loaded phrase which relate to one of the above. If you don't have time to do this when you are going through your planning stages for Question 1 2 or 3 then spend the first 5 minutes scanning and making lists of quotations or devices which are used.
If you list these in columns then you can quickly draw lines to similarities and differences.
When comparing you should be analysing language (zooming in) and commenting on the effect this could have on the reader. At a higher level you could evaluate the success of the text in meeting the Purpose Audience or Form. You can see some more detailed thoughts on this post from last year: The Dreaded Question 4
You should be structuring your work like this:
Evaluation of Purpose, Audience or Format
Comparative Point (similarity or difference)
Evaluation of Language of Purpose, Audience or Format
You must try to make 3-4 points like this using 6 - 10 textual references.
Remember you must always compare to Source 3 but can choose either Source 1 or 2.
Spend 25 minutes answering:
Compare the way writers' use language for effect. 16 Marks
Source 1 is here
Source 2 is here
Source 3 is below:
December 17, Hetta
We are in the midst of a super-cold snap, with temperatures falling below -30C. I can’t go outside for more than a few moments without fully suiting up in cold-weather gear. The insides of my nostrils crackle with frost; any hair left uncovered picks up a grey sheen, as though I’ve aged 50 years in minutes. Occasionally my eyelashes freeze together. I learn that if any part of my body sticks to metal, I mustn’t panic and wrench away, or I risk ripping the skin clean off. One of the dogs, Monty, lost half of his tongue this way as a pup when he licked a metal post. It nearly killed him, and it took months of careful nursing and hand feeding in the house before he returned to work.
But while the temperatures drop, the tourist season is hotting up. Lapland’s economy depends almost entirely on a few short weeks before Christmas when visitors flood in from overseas. Suddenly it’s all go as we try to run as many safaris as possible, often working from 7am till past midnight.
We have to sprint as we make up the dog teams – usually eight-strong, with an obedient pair up front as leaders and two of the strongest dogs at the back in 'wheel’ position: the brains and the brawn respectively.
In a rush this morning, I sped with my team out of the gates and took the first corner far too quickly. The sled flipped, dragging me through the snow on my stomach until the bar slipped out of my grip. By the time I’d jumped to my feet my dogs had overtaken the team in front and started a fight; I had had to throw myself between the two teams and wrestle them apart, growling and yelling. No harm done, but my nerves are jangling and my confidence has taken a knock.
December 21, Hetta
While freeing two dogs that have become tangled in the lines, I stupidly remove my gloves in -38C, and later find the colour has drained away from the tips of my fingers. They also have an unpleasant needling sensation. 'Congratulations,’ Pasi says. 'Your first frostbite.’ I’m thrilled and show them off to everyone.
December 25, Hetta and Valimaa
This week has been hard. We seem to be working non-stop and I haven’t seen daylight in three weeks. This is the polar night. The sun will not rise above the horizon for a further 10 days. It is dark enough to use head torches for most of the day, but at noon the skies are incredible, streaked with magenta and crimson and orange.
To tell the truth, I’m running on empty. Every waking moment for weeks has been spent feeding or harnessing or sledding or shovelling snow or shovelling shit. When, on Christmas Eve, I’m sternly told off for not cleaning kennels properly, I’m so tired and it’s so unfair that I find myself in tears, sobbing into a bucket of frozen meat as I chop it into pieces.
'Oh dear,’ Dot, another of the guides, says when she finds me. 'Feeling fragile?’ I laugh. It is a bit ridiculous.
Christmas Day itself is just as dark and cold as all the other days but it feels like we’ve turned a corner: the hardest part is over. The tourists will soon return to wherever they came from, the daylight will return from wherever it went. After a Christmas feast, five of us return to the wilderness farm. I drive; others grab some sleep while they can. When we arrive, past midnight, it strikes me how lucky we are. The air is so still and the sky is so clear, the stars so incredibly bright.
Edited from an article by Cal Flyn in The Telegraph - Full article available here