Prose Non-Fiction

Prose non-fiction includes real-world texts such as:

1. Memoirs and autobiographies
2. Biographies
3. Essays
4. Speeches
5. Articles and opinion pieces
6. Travel writing
7. Letters

These texts aim to inform, persuade, reflect, or express personal experience, and are typically written in continuous prose without fictional elements.

Key Features to Look For

Purpose and Context

Ask:

1. Why was this written?
2. What is the author trying to achieve?
3. What broader context (social, political, personal) influences the piece?

Look for:

1. Calls to action
2. Personal reflections
3. Historical or cultural references

Narrative Voice and Tone

1. First-person voice (e.g. memoirs) vs. third-person (e.g. biographies)
2. Formal, informal, reflective, critical, nostalgic, humorous?
3. How does tone evolve over the course of the text?

Structure and Form

1. Linear or non-linear narrative?
2. Use of anecdotes, fragments, lists, repetition?
3. Are there shifts in time, tone, or focus?

4. Language and Stylistic Devices

Watch for:

1. Figurative language (metaphors, similes, personification)
2. Imagery (visual, sensory)
3. Syntax and diction (sentence length, emotive or rhetorical language)
4. Rhetorical devices (triadic structure, anaphora, rhetorical questions)

Characterisation and Perspective

1. How are people or ideas presented?
2. Bias, subjectivity, or reliability of the narrator?
3. How does the narrator reflect on others or themselves?

How to Analyse a Prose Non-Fiction Text

Prose Non-Fiction Model Answer

Text Extract: Between Words (Memoir Style)

I remember the day I stepped off the plane in London, clutching the strap of my bag like it was the only stable thing in my life. The air felt different—colder, thinner—as if the atmosphere itself was warning me: you’re not home anymore. My mother, walking slightly ahead, didn’t look back to see if I was still following. I don’t blame her. She had enough weight to carry, starting over with two children and no certainty. She had aged ten years on that single flight, though I don't think she realised. Or maybe she did, and that was why she couldn’t bear to look back.

The taxi ride from Heathrow was long and quiet. I pressed my face against the window, trying to memorise everything: the grey sky, the brick buildings, the unfamiliar trees. Everything looked so still, so self-assured. It was as if the whole city knew where it belonged. I envied it.

The flat we moved into was on the third floor of a crumbling council estate, with windows that didn’t shut properly and wallpaper that peeled at the corners like sunburned skin. The walls were thin—you could hear the neighbours coughing through them at night—and the radiator made strange clicking sounds like it was trying to speak. I would lie on the mattress on the floor and imagine the walls whispering in a language I didn’t understand. Sometimes, I would try to whisper back.

School was no kinder. The teachers spoke quickly, and the other students moved even faster. They called me “Freshie” under their breath—loud enough to sting, quiet enough to dodge punishment. I laughed with them so they wouldn’t hear the crack in my voice. I laughed so they wouldn’t see the silence I carried in my lunchbox, the smell of unfamiliar spices on my clothes, the shame I hadn’t yet learned how to name.

Still, I learned. I learned the rhythm of English jokes, the sharpness of sarcasm, the way some laughter was designed to exclude. I learned how to keep my hands down, how to disappear into corners, how to swallow the wrong answers before they escaped my mouth. Most of all, I learned how to sound like them. I practised in front of the bathroom mirror every night: the roundness of vowels, the clipped edges of consonants. I smoothed out my accent like ironing a wrinkled shirt, trying to sound less like myself and more like someone who belonged.

By the end of that first year, I had become fluent in the art of pretending. I pretended I didn’t miss the mango tree that leaned into our old bedroom window. I pretended I didn’t remember the street vendor who sold steamed buns outside our school. I pretended that London’s streets felt like home, even though they didn’t, even though they swallowed my footsteps without leaving a trace.

And yet, despite everything I had unlearned, one thing remained. In my dreams, I was still home. I was back in my grandmother’s kitchen, where the ceiling fan creaked and the air smelled like rice and ginger. I could still hear her voice—soft, strong, certain—telling me that I was meant to grow roots, not erase them.

Guiding Question:

How does the writer use language and structure to explore the theme of displacement in the extract?

Essay Outline:

1. Introduction
   1. Contextualise the extract as a reflective prose memoir about a young narrator’s migration to London.
   2. Define the theme: Displacement as more than geographical—it’s emotional, psychological, and cultural.
   3. Thesis statement:
      The writer explores displacement through the use of figurative language, tone, and a progressive narrative structure, presenting it as a state of emotional dislocation, fragile identity, and the quiet erasure of belonging.
2. Body Paragraph 1 – External Displacement and Environmental Alienation
   1. Point: The extract opens with physical sensations that reflect the narrator’s emotional instability and unfamiliarity with her new surroundings.
   2. Evidence:
      1. “The air felt different—colder, thinner”
      2. “Clutching the strap… like it was the only stable thing”
      3. “The whole city knew where it belonged. I envied it.”
   3. Techniques:
      1. Pathetic fallacy, personification, simile
   4. Explanation:
      1. These devices externalise the narrator’s emotional state and show how the environment reflects her alienation.
   5. Link:
      1. Displacement is shown not just as a new place, but a complete disruption of emotional grounding.
3. Body Paragraph 2 – Domestic Space and Emotional Disconnection
   1. Point: The narrator’s new home and relationship with her mother symbolise the emotional fragility that accompanies migration.
   2. Evidence:
      1. “She didn’t look back… I don’t blame her.”
      2. “Wallpaper that peeled… like sunburned skin”
      3. “The radiator made strange clicking sounds… the walls whispering”
   3. Techniques:
      1. Understatement, simile, personification, auditory imagery
   4. Explanation:
      1. The family dynamic and physical space reflect vulnerability, silence, and cultural unfamiliarity.
   5. Link:
      1. Displacement is experienced within the private space of the home, disrupting expected sources of comfort.
4. Body Paragraph 3 – Language, Performance, and Identity Loss
   1. Point: The extract shows how the narrator learns to perform belonging through language, but at the cost of authenticity and cultural identity.
   2. Evidence:
      1. “Freshie… loud enough to sting but quiet enough to dodge punishment”
      2. “So they wouldn’t hear the crack in my voice”
      3. “Fluent in the art of pretending”
      4. “In my dreams, I was still home.”
   3. Techniques:
      1. Irony, juxtaposition, auditory imagery, metaphor, cyclical structure
   4. Explanation:
      1. These moments show the emotional toll of assimilation and the internal conflict between adaptation and loss.
   5. Link:
      1. Displacement is revealed as a long-term erosion of self, masked by performance and language.
5. Conclusion
   1. Restate main argument:
      1. The writer presents displacement as a layered, emotionally fraught experience that unfolds across physical space, family dynamics, and language.
   2. Summarise methods:
      1. Through figurative language, tone, and structure, the extract captures the tension between the narrator’s inner identity and outward adaptation.
   3. Final insight:
      1. The text reminds us that the most enduring consequence of displacement is not arrival in a new land—but the lingering sense of having left something behind.

Model Answer (20/20 Response)

In the reflective prose extract Between Worlds, the writer explores the profound emotional consequences of displacement through a child’s experience of immigration. The narrative charts the psychological journey of a young girl arriving in London from an unnamed homeland, revealing the internal fragmentation, cultural loss, and forced adaptation that define her new life. Through the use of sensory imagery, figurative language, personification, and a progressive narrative structure, the writer demonstrates that displacement is not a single moment of change but a continuous process of emotional and cultural negotiation.

From the outset, the narrator’s emotional unease is mirrored by the unfamiliar physical environment. The phrase “the air felt different—colder, thinner—as if the atmosphere itself was warning me: you’re not home anymore” uses pathetic fallacy to externalise her psychological state, transforming the natural world into something hostile. This moment of personification intensifies the sense that the narrator has entered a space where she does not belong. The simile “clutching the strap of my bag like it was the only stable thing in my life” further highlights the narrator’s internal instability and vulnerability. By grounding the theme of displacement in sensory and symbolic language, the writer immediately sets the tone for a narrative driven by emotional dislocation. The contrast between the narrator and her new surroundings is most poignantly expressed in the line, “The whole city knew where it belonged. I envied it,” which personifies London as confident and secure—qualities the narrator herself lacks. This establishes displacement as both a personal and spatial experience, rooted in the tension between belonging and exclusion.

The writer continues to explore this tension through the symbolism of the domestic setting and family relationships. The narrator’s mother is described as “walking slightly ahead” without looking back, a subtle detail that reveals the emotional burden of starting over. The line “I don’t blame her” is marked by understatement, conveying the child’s resignation and quiet understanding of her mother’s exhaustion. Meanwhile, the flat they move into is depicted with vivid tactile and visual imagery: “wallpaper that peeled at the corners like sunburned skin.” This simile gives the setting a sense of exposure and fragility, suggesting that the home—typically a site of comfort—is instead damaged and temporary. The narrator imagines the radiator and walls “whispering in a language I didn’t understand,” which uses personificationand auditory imagery to suggest that even in private, the narrator feels surrounded by foreignness. These descriptions suggest that displacement infiltrates the most intimate spaces of life, severing the narrator from comfort and familiarity.

The final section of the extract turns inward, focusing on the psychological cost of assimilation. The school setting is portrayed as a site of exclusion, as seen in the nickname “Freshie… loud enough to sting but quiet enough to dodge punishment.” This ironic juxtaposition shows how xenophobia is subtly deployed but deeply wounding. The narrator responds by laughing “so they wouldn’t hear the crack in my voice,” a metaphor for emotional suppression and the performance of normality. Over time, the narrator “learned the rhythm of English jokes… how to hide my accent… fluent in the art of pretending.” The repetition and parallel syntax create a cumulative effect, highlighting how survival requires continuous effort and self-erasure. The final phrase, “fluent in the art of pretending,” is particularly striking as a metaphor, turning language itself into a performance that masks identity. The last line—“In my dreams, I was still home”—acts as a structural bookend, returning the reader to the idea that displacement is unresolved, and that home continues to exist only in memory.

Overall, the writer constructs a powerful portrait of displacement as a condition of emotional rupture, cultural confusion, and unspoken grief. Through figurative language, careful tonal shifts, and an evolving narrative voice, the extract presents displacement not as a single event, but as a quiet, persistent struggle between two worlds. In doing so, it invites the reader to reflect on the psychological weight carried by those who are forced to leave behind not just places, but parts of themselves.

Why This is a 20/20 Model Answer Based on the IB Paper 1 Marking Criteria

This response achieves full marks by excelling in all four IB Paper 1 marking criteria:

Criterion A: Understanding and Interpretation – 5/5

1. Shows a deep and nuanced understanding of displacement as not just physical relocation, but a psychological and emotional rupture.
2. Demonstrates an awareness of the narrator’s internal conflict—her loss of identity, suppressed emotions, and the performance of belonging.
3. Goes beyond surface-level summary by interpreting how meaning is constructed through form and voice (e.g. the mother’s silence, the metaphor of the walls).

Criterion B: Analysis and Evaluation – 5/5

1. Consistently identifies specific literary techniques (e.g. metaphor, pathetic fallacy, personification, repetition, understatement).
2. Explains how each technique shapes tone, character, or meaning—not just naming the device but analysing its function and emotional impact.
3. Evaluates structure, such as the cyclical ending, to demonstrate the persistence of displacement even after assimilation.

Criterion C: Focus and Organisation – 5/5

1. Each paragraph is clearly structured (PEEL) with precise topic sentences and smooth transitions.
2. Follows a logical progression: begins with physical alienation → moves to family and home → ends with internal identity conflict.
3. Keeps the guiding question in focus throughout, linking each paragraph back to the theme of displacement.

Criterion D: Language – 5/5

1. Language is precise, fluent, and formal—it uses academic vocabulary without sounding forced.
2. Sentences are varied in structure: some short for emphasis, others longer for nuance.
3. Literary terms are accurately and naturally integrated (e.g. “the metaphor of pretending masks identity…”).
4. The tone is analytical yet empathetic, fitting for the emotional nature of the extract.