Successful Personal Statement For English At Cambridge

Growing up in a house where books have replaced wallpaper, acquiring a love of literature was inevitable. I love the way in which writers explore, question, and critique aspects of human nature through the presentation of their worlds and characters. My favourite pieces of writing are ones such as Levi’s ‘Order on the Cheap’, Gogol’s ‘The Overcoat’ or Hartley’s ‘The Go Between’, where a particular human tendency is both beautifully presented and meticulously analysed. In his short story, Levi explores curiosity by invoking that of his audience: readers become distracted by the narrator’s descriptions of his experiments and overlook their morally problematic side. Hartley employs an opposite technique, allowing the reader to be often sharply aware of the innocence and naivety of the protagonist. Gogol manipulates the reader even more, invoking a painful sense of pathos around the main character whilst at the same time daring us to find Akaky’s concerns a little ridiculous.

I have to admit, however, that I am drawn to Levi’s short story not only because of its literary merits, but also because I sympathise with its main character: a man driven by his fascination with the process of creation. My favourite parts of my Chemistry A level were the ‘practicals’; I derived great excitement from the process of taking a simple substance, subjecting it to particular conditions, and thereby creating a completely different, and often much more complex, chemical. In ‘The Monkey’s Wrench’ Levi seems to emulate the same process in his development of the character of Tino. Starting from a simple first picture Tino is slowly developed, snippet by snippet, as the stories progress, until a fully evolved character finally emerges.

I find it fascinating how unexpected links can suddenly emerge between works: reading around a set text, Murakami’s ‘Blind Willow Sleeping Woman’, I read his ‘Kafka on the Shore’, which led me to read some of Kafka’s short stories, including ‘The Penal Colony’ and ‘A Country Doctor’. Whilst the works of the two writers are in many ways extremely different, I noticed some stylistic similarities. Both present protagonists whose apparently unexceptional lives are suddenly interrupted by a series of unexplained fantastical events. These events are often a metaphor for a wider-reaching process in the life of the narrator.

But without a doubt, poetry has always been my favourite form of literature: I like listening to poems or reading them aloud, appreciating their rhythm and sound, before going back and analysing them. Some of my favourite poems are those in which the sound is almost as important as the words themselves, for example, Lawrence’s ‘Ship of Death’ or Frost’s ‘After Apple Picking’. In this vein, I have a YouTube channel on which I post my readings of various poems, and have also earned at least several pence through poetry busking in the streets of Waterloo.

Eagleton’s ‘Literary Theory: an Introduction’ gave me another way in which to approach texts. As well as my visceral response and the various meanings extracted through analysis, the texts might exemplify the literary or political beliefs of a particular period. Further, members of different literary movements might approach them in very different ways – I enjoyed trying to put on the ‘mask’ of one movement or another and read a poem through it. Similarly, whilst studying ‘Othello’ I was interested by the hugely varying approaches of different critics, from Bradley who focused chiefly on character but seemed to forget the literary context, to Empson who concentrated almost solely on the changing meaning of the word ‘honest’ throughout time. Perhaps most significantly, Eagleton and the other critics reinforced the idea that engaging with a text is itself a creative process.

However, Eagleton’s book is just ‘an Introduction’: what draws me most to the study of English literature is not only that I love it, but that I want so much to learn more about it.