Mock Papers
Practice Papers
Past Papers
OCR A LEVEL 2025/26
Helpful for mocks and exam
revision
TYRIONPAPERS.COM
, Oxford Cambridge and RSA
Monday 19 May 2025 – Morning
AS Level English Language and Literature (EMC)
H074/02 The language of literary texts
Time allowed: 1 hour 30 minutes
* 1 3 3 0 1 7 5 8 3 3 *
You must have:
• the OCR 12‑page Answer Booklet
INSTRUCTIONS
• Use black ink.
• Write your answer to each question in the Answer Booklet. The question numbers must
be clearly shown.
• Fill in the boxes on the front of the Answer Booklet.
• Answer one question in Section A and one in Section B.
INFORMATION
• The total mark for this paper is 50.
• The marks for each question are shown in brackets [ ].
• This document has 24 pages.
ADVICE
• Read each question carefully before you start your answer.
© OCR 2025 [601/4705/2] OCR is an exempt Charity
DC (WW) 357504/2 Turn over
for more: tyrionpapers.com
, 2
Section A
The language of prose
Charlotte Brontë: Jane Eyre
F Scott Fitzgerald: The Great Gatsby
Chinua Achebe: Things Fall Apart
Arundhati Roy: The God of Small Things
Ian McEwan: Atonement
Jhumpa Lahiri: The Namesake
Answer one question from this section on your chosen prose text.
You should spend about 45 minutes on this section.
1 Charlotte Brontë: Jane Eyre
Write about the ways in which Charlotte Brontë tells the story in this extract.
In your answer you should:
• explore the narrative techniques used in the extract
• consider the extract in the context of the novel as a whole and its genre. [25]
I hardly know whether I had slept or not after this musing; at any rate, I started wide awake on
hearing a vague murmur, peculiar and lugubrious, which sounded, I thought, just above me. I wished I
had kept my candle burning: the night was drearily dark; my spirits were depressed. I rose and sat up
in bed, listening. The sound was hushed.
I tried again to sleep; but my heart beat anxiously: my inward tranquillity was broken. The clock,
far down in the hall, struck two. Just then it seemed my chamber‑door was touched; as if fingers
had swept the panels in groping a way along the dark gallery outside. I said, ‘Who is there?’ Nothing
answered. I was chilled with fear.
All at once I remembered that it might be Pilot, who, when the kitchen‑door chanced to be left
open, not unfrequently found his way up to the threshold of Mr Rochester’s chamber: I had seen him
lying there myself in the mornings. The idea calmed me somewhat: I lay down. Silence composes the
nerves; and as an unbroken hush now reigned again through the whole house, I began to feel the
return of slumber. But it was not fated that I should sleep that night. A dream had scarcely approached
my ear, when it fled affrighted, scared by a marrow‑freezing incident enough.
This was a demoniac laugh – low, suppressed, and deep – uttered, as it seemed, at the very keyhole
of my chamber door. The head of my bed was near the door, and I thought at first the goblin‑laugher
stood at my bedside – or rather, crouched by my pillow: but I rose, looked round, and could see nothing;
while, as I still gazed, the unnatural sound was reiterated: and I knew it came from behind the panels. My
first impulse was to rise and fasten the bolt; my next, again to cry out, ‘Who is there?’
Something gurgled and moaned. Ere long, steps retreated up the gallery towards the third‑storey
staircase: a door had lately been made to shut in that staircase; I heard it open and close, and all was
still.
‘Was that Grace Poole? and is she possessed with a devil?’ thought I. Impossible now to remain
longer by myself: I must go to Mrs Fairfax. I hurried on my frock and a shawl; I withdrew the bolt and
opened the door with a trembling hand. There was a candle burning just outside, and on the matting
in the gallery. I was surprised at this circumstance: but still more was I amazed to perceive the air
quite dim, as if filled with smoke; and, while looking to the right hand and left, to find whence these
blue wreaths issued, I became further aware of a strong smell of burning.
© OCR 2025 H074/02 Jun25
for more: tyrionpapers.com
Practice Papers
Past Papers
OCR A LEVEL 2025/26
Helpful for mocks and exam
revision
TYRIONPAPERS.COM
, Oxford Cambridge and RSA
Monday 19 May 2025 – Morning
AS Level English Language and Literature (EMC)
H074/02 The language of literary texts
Time allowed: 1 hour 30 minutes
* 1 3 3 0 1 7 5 8 3 3 *
You must have:
• the OCR 12‑page Answer Booklet
INSTRUCTIONS
• Use black ink.
• Write your answer to each question in the Answer Booklet. The question numbers must
be clearly shown.
• Fill in the boxes on the front of the Answer Booklet.
• Answer one question in Section A and one in Section B.
INFORMATION
• The total mark for this paper is 50.
• The marks for each question are shown in brackets [ ].
• This document has 24 pages.
ADVICE
• Read each question carefully before you start your answer.
© OCR 2025 [601/4705/2] OCR is an exempt Charity
DC (WW) 357504/2 Turn over
for more: tyrionpapers.com
, 2
Section A
The language of prose
Charlotte Brontë: Jane Eyre
F Scott Fitzgerald: The Great Gatsby
Chinua Achebe: Things Fall Apart
Arundhati Roy: The God of Small Things
Ian McEwan: Atonement
Jhumpa Lahiri: The Namesake
Answer one question from this section on your chosen prose text.
You should spend about 45 minutes on this section.
1 Charlotte Brontë: Jane Eyre
Write about the ways in which Charlotte Brontë tells the story in this extract.
In your answer you should:
• explore the narrative techniques used in the extract
• consider the extract in the context of the novel as a whole and its genre. [25]
I hardly know whether I had slept or not after this musing; at any rate, I started wide awake on
hearing a vague murmur, peculiar and lugubrious, which sounded, I thought, just above me. I wished I
had kept my candle burning: the night was drearily dark; my spirits were depressed. I rose and sat up
in bed, listening. The sound was hushed.
I tried again to sleep; but my heart beat anxiously: my inward tranquillity was broken. The clock,
far down in the hall, struck two. Just then it seemed my chamber‑door was touched; as if fingers
had swept the panels in groping a way along the dark gallery outside. I said, ‘Who is there?’ Nothing
answered. I was chilled with fear.
All at once I remembered that it might be Pilot, who, when the kitchen‑door chanced to be left
open, not unfrequently found his way up to the threshold of Mr Rochester’s chamber: I had seen him
lying there myself in the mornings. The idea calmed me somewhat: I lay down. Silence composes the
nerves; and as an unbroken hush now reigned again through the whole house, I began to feel the
return of slumber. But it was not fated that I should sleep that night. A dream had scarcely approached
my ear, when it fled affrighted, scared by a marrow‑freezing incident enough.
This was a demoniac laugh – low, suppressed, and deep – uttered, as it seemed, at the very keyhole
of my chamber door. The head of my bed was near the door, and I thought at first the goblin‑laugher
stood at my bedside – or rather, crouched by my pillow: but I rose, looked round, and could see nothing;
while, as I still gazed, the unnatural sound was reiterated: and I knew it came from behind the panels. My
first impulse was to rise and fasten the bolt; my next, again to cry out, ‘Who is there?’
Something gurgled and moaned. Ere long, steps retreated up the gallery towards the third‑storey
staircase: a door had lately been made to shut in that staircase; I heard it open and close, and all was
still.
‘Was that Grace Poole? and is she possessed with a devil?’ thought I. Impossible now to remain
longer by myself: I must go to Mrs Fairfax. I hurried on my frock and a shawl; I withdrew the bolt and
opened the door with a trembling hand. There was a candle burning just outside, and on the matting
in the gallery. I was surprised at this circumstance: but still more was I amazed to perceive the air
quite dim, as if filled with smoke; and, while looking to the right hand and left, to find whence these
blue wreaths issued, I became further aware of a strong smell of burning.
© OCR 2025 H074/02 Jun25
for more: tyrionpapers.com
