In English 3,  Module 3, learners focus on detailed analysis of the purpose, language, style and construction of a prescribed text. They focus closely on textual details to examine different perspectives and develop their own reasoned interpretation.

Our prescribed text for this learning module is Sophie Laguna’s The Eye Of The Sheep published in 2014 and recipient of The Miles Franklin literary award in 2015.

Below is an excerpt from a review of the novel students have looked at to help gather meaning about the text: 

‘… The Eye of the Sheep  follows Jimmy’s journey as he tries to understand himself and the world around him. It works as a reminder that having a child with special needs is not an impossible task; it is a challenge that runs alongside complexities faced by many families.

Sofie Laguna tackles the intricacies of love and marriage, brotherhood, power dynamics, medical issues, and the definition of family – Equally distressing and uplifting, every moment of pain is juxtaposed with the light we see in the central figure of Jimmy. This book should be impossibly bleak, but Laguna has managed to imbue it with luminosity. This is a story about how to find your place in the world and how to accept what you have been given. The Eye of the Sheep will break your heart – a small price to pay to hear Jimmy’s story. …’

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Featured here is a reflective piece by Matilda Wordsworth from the perspective of Robby Flick, a central character in the narrative. Matilda has used stream of consciousness, a style of writing to perfectly encapsulate the voice of Robby.

Adele Geard

Teacher of English 3

The words of my brother gave me a sinking feeling. Like what a bottle of Cutty Sark does to my Dad.

My Uncle Steve has passed, drink driving Jimmy said.

I felt awful for my first thought to be wishing it had been my own father behind the wheel, maybe that would make life easier or maybe it wouldn’t but what I do know is I have to get out of here before my Dad comes home.

I pretend to call the David’s residence and hop on my bike hoping to not raise suspicion.

I ride down the street as fast as my legs can carry me until I get to the harbour.

I see the familiar sun-bleached wood and jump off of the jetty onto the cold sand below.

The softness comforts my feet and I walk under the long wooden planks until I get to my spot.

I go here sometimes when the yelling pierces my skin and my dad is drunk decorating Mum’s skin with painful purple pictures.

My spot consists of an old, shipwrecked boat.

It has a log of driftwood where I sit and comfort my mind.

I have some fishing lures that have washed in from the shore they remind me of my brother Jimmy, they may not be new or as bright but every true fisherman knows that they work the best.

I have a broken fishing pole with half of the guides still intact it reminds me of my Mum. she remains strong for me and Jimmy even if she is broken herself.

And finally I have a damp box of matches that don’t work but are exactly like my Dad. He many appear dangerous but underneath his vulnerability there is a part of him that is soft and soggy just like the matches.

I often watch the boats going in and out from the docks, it reminds me of simple times when my family wasn’t broken.

It hadn’t always been so bad before Jimmy was born we used to have fun. Dad would take me to the docks and we would talk about the boats.

He taught me so much and I guess that’s why I love to come here, the feeling of my father’s love is slowly starting to fade and this place is the only thing keeping it alive.

Once Jimmy was born I felt on my own, Mum seems to hold him tight and won’t let him go.

Dad turned his fascination of boats to drinking it of a weekend and after a while when money got tight Mum started saying no.

This made Dad angry he blamed Jimmy’s constant whining for him having to drink.

It’s not Jimmy’s fault though, he can’t control the way that he is.

Sometimes I wish that I could put Jimmy on the back of my bike and ride until there is no road left, he doesn’t deserve the looks, the comments or the whispering behind his back.

A long horn from the boat brought me back to reality and I sigh as I come back to my feet and start my journey back home.

Written by English 3C student Matilda Wordsworth