school%english?1 · mary!macken*horarik,!20/11/15! 3!...

Mary Macken-‐‑Horarik, 20/11/15 1

Grammar in wonderland: What might a re-‐‑imagined grammar look like in contemporary school English?1

Introduction Grammar is not only a fraught topic in the conference dialogues of English Teachers’ Associations like this one, it has a real image problem, brought on perhaps by failures to engage with the crucial issues facing English. But it is problematic on several counts: when it comes to literary interpretation, and despite valiant efforts in stylistics (where grammatical knowledge has a role to play in study of narrative, poetry and drama) it is seen as largely irrelevant to the big tasks of the discipline. It tends to be associated with regimes of correctness in which grammatical ‘rules’ (not often rules in fact, but more often conventions associated with middle class discourse) are aligned with pedagogic preoccupations with grammatical form. If it does have a legitimate role to play, it is often brought in ‘at the point of need’ which typically means when students make errors in their writing (and even their speech) and used to rectify these. Furthermore, it has a bad history when it comes to non-‐‑standard forms of English – used to vilify perfectly functional uses of language in oral discourse. Is it possible that the worlds we create through grammar can be looked at afresh? Is it possible that the resources Shakespeare, Eliot, Faulkner and others deploy in their texts, that depend on grammar can be enlivened by grammatical knowledge? In this paper, I identify four compass points to explore different forms of knowing that they configure. 1. Four reference points on the compass to guide journeys with grammatics 2

1 This handout is adapted from notes given to teachers in the first year of an ARC Discovery Project entitled: Grammar and praxis: investigating a grammatics for 21st century school English [DP110104309]. Other researchers involved included Kristina Love, Len Unsworth and Carmel Sandiford and 27 teachers in New England and Victoria. 2 The term ‘grammatics’ was first used by Michael Halliday (2002) to refer to the study of grammar; the proportion is as follows: grammatics:grammar :: linguistics:language. In our Discovery project, we used the term to refer to our theory of grammar – a way of exploring language and image with ‘grammar in mind’.

Individual repertoires

Language/ image as resources for meaning

Disciplinary practices in English

Grammatical understanding e.g. developing a meta-‐‑language for naming, glossing & interpreting language & images

Rhetorical know-‐‑how e.g. Learning to compose effective narratives

Contextual understanding e.g. learning about how narratives work in the culture

Semiotic know-‐‑how e.g. extending grammar to analysis of images in multimodal texts.

Knowledge about …. Know how ….


2. Contextual understanding – lenses on meaning How might grammar become relevant to narrative meaning? Michael Halliday suggests that meaning is itself multifaceted and that every utterance makes three major kinds of meaning (what he calls ‘metafunctions’). There is meaning as ‘content ‘– the most commonly understood meaning of meaning. But there is also interpersonal meaning – often called evaluation. And then there is meaning internal to texts– textual meaning to do with composition itself. In the grammatics project, we introduced teachers to all three ‘lenses on meaning’.

(i) Ideational lens on meaning – building a plausible ‘possible world’ of experience; (setting, characterization, plotting, struggle, crisis, resolution and theme/idea);

(ii) Interpersonal lens on meaning – engaging readers intersubjectively (through narration, focalization, voicing, attitude & graduation); (iii) Textual – organizing texts so parts hang together to make a whole (signposting, cohesion)

Teachers found the three lenses on meaning useful as ‘ways in’ to analyzing texts of many kinds, especially when we linked these to literary notions like narration, focalization and dialogue/voice.

Examples of interpersonal meanings related to narrative strategies (i) Narration (Who tells the story?) Narrator or character? Is this person internal or external to events in the story? Is it first or third person? (ii) Internal Focalization (who sees?) ~ sensing verbs (felt, looked, noticed), thinking verbs (thought, believed) or behavioural verbs (snorted, started, howled, moaned, sobbed, smiled); (iii) Dialogue or Voicing (who speaks?) ~ quoted speech in dialogue, reported speech, saying verbs (said, replied, cried, swore, responded, etc); Extract 1: From ‘Down the rabbit-‐‑hole’ The rabbit-‐‑hole went straight on like a tunnel for some way, and then dipped suddenly down, so suddenly that Alice had not a moment to think about stopping herself before she found herself falling down a very deep well. Either the well was very deep or she fell very slowly, for she had plenty of time as she went down to look about her, and to wonder what was going to happen next. First she tried to look down and make out what she was coming to, but it was too dark to see anything; then she looked at the sides of the well, and noticed that they were filled with cupboards and pictures hung upon pegs. She took down a jar from one of the shelves as she passed; it was labelled ‘orange marmalade’, but to her great disappointment it was empty: she did not like to drop the jar for fear of killing somebody, so managed to put it into one of the cupboards as she felt past it. Note: What happens as Alice tumbles down the rabbit-‐‑hole is mediated by verbs of perception – looking, seeing, noticing, etc. As we shunt between verbs of action and verbs of perception (verba sentiendi), we see wonderland through Alice’s eyes. We get plenty of access to the viewpoints of others through their voicing of opinions in dialogues. But our internal reference point in this story is Alice.

Either the well was very deep or she fell very slowly, for she had plenty of time as she went down

but it was too dark

they were filled with cupboards and pictures hung upon pegs.

to look about her and to wonder what was going to happen next. First she tried to look down and make out what she was coming to

to see anything; then she looked at the sides of the well, and noticed that


Putting grammar at the service of interpretation is important. But we need to know something about grammar if we are to use it to reason with. The national curriculum requires that we teach students about language “at the levels of the word, the sentence and the extended text, with connections between these levels.” (ACARA, 2009). In the grammatics project, we related this to Halliday’s stratified model of language, using the idea of different ‘landing places’ in work on grammar so as to incorporate form, function and patterns of meaning in texts. Extract 2: From ‘Curiouser and Curiouser’ After a time she heard a little pattering of feet in the distance, and she hastily dried her eyes to see what was coming. It was the White Rabbit returning, splendidly dressed, with a pair of white kid gloves in one hand and a large fan in the other: he came trotting along in a great hurry, muttering to himself as he came, ‘Oh! The Duchess, the Duchess! Oh won’t she be savage if I’ve kept her waiting! Alice felt so desperate that she was ready to ask help of any one; so, when the Rabbit came near her, she began in a low, timid voice, ‘If you please, sir –‘ The Rabbit started violently, dropped the white kid gloves and the fan, and scurried away into the darkness as hard as he could go. 3. Grammatical understanding – three landing places (i) Identification of a unit of meaning in the stream of writing (or speaking). Knowing what you are looking at: Is it a verb group, noun group, a conjunction or adverbial, etc? (ii) Description of the function of the unit. Being able to gloss, label or describe the function of the

unit in a clause (e.g. ‘The verb tells us about Alice’ feelings, sayings or actions’, etc); (iii) Interpretation and Explanation of the patterns of choice in a text. Doing higher order interpretation drawing on grammatical analysis (e.g. ‘I notice that in this part of Alice in

Wonderland, we alternate between verbs of perception and verbs of action and thus we see things through Alice’s eyes’.)

Example of identification: Recognizing formal properties of word classes – that verbs express tense or modality, mark person (1st, 2nd or 3rd) and number (singular or plural) of the subject -‐‑ ‘She is’ vs ‘They are’ or ‘She was’ vs ‘They were’. Recognizing that the sentences in this novel are often complex, with lots of dependent clauses to track. Example of description: The verb tells us about the character’s actions (e.g. ‘am opening’, ‘will give’ and ‘must go’), states (e.g. ‘was’ or ‘seemed’), perceptions (e.g. ‘looked’, ‘wondered’, ‘heard’) or sayings ‘e.g. ‘cried’, ‘said’ and ‘muttered’).. Elaboration is a grammatical resource for creating vividness in a fictional world. We indicate elaboration using the equals sign. ‘It was the White Rabbit returning, = splendidly dressed, = with a pair of white kid gloves in one hand and a large fan in the other.’ Example of interpretation: Students can draw on their grammatical analysis to provide evidence for their responses: ‘I can see how the author creates an impression of hapless anxiety on the part of the rabbit through verbs that suggest constant movement – e.g. running, hurrying, trotting and scurrying, etc’. This contrasts with Alice’s perceptions sourced through verbs of sensing and thinking.’ Here is how one teacher in our project demonstrated grammatical understanding, moving between identification, description and interpretation: “And when we look at a book and I say to the kids okay, what sort of verbs is dominating in this passage, and they'll go ‘Oh, there's saying verbs; there's dialogue happening.’ So, that sort of thing. We talk about sensing verbs. And we know how the person is feeling, so it tends to be internal. So that is the sort of thing I say to my students.” 4. Rhetorical know-‐‑how – composing effective narratives

How does grammar figure in composition? Can it be used to shape narratives ‘at the point of utterance’ rather than simply to correct inadequate syntax? Yes, it can but we need to conceive of grammar differently. Old ‘correctionist’ and form-‐‑based approaches will not suffice, as Andrews, et al (2005) have noted (though of course they have their place in phases of proofreading). Rhetorical know-‐‑how deploys


language as a resource for making meaning – posing and responding to questions, and generating dialogue, for example. In Extract 3, Alice depends on grammar to interact with creatures, to counter absurdities, even defending herself against the rudeness of creatures like the Mad-‐‑Hatter. Extract 3: From ‘A mad tea-‐‑party’ ‘Your hair wants cutting,’ said the Hatter. He had been looking at Alice for some time with great curiosity, and this was his first speech. ‘You should learn not to make personal remarks,’ Alice said with some severity; ‘it's very rude.’ The Hatter opened his eyes very wide on hearing this; but all he said was, ‘Why is a raven like a writing-‐‑desk?’ ‘Come we shall have some fun now!’ thought Alice. ‘I’m glad they've begun asking riddles. -‐‑ I believe I can guess that,’ she added aloud. ‘Do you mean that you can find out the answer to it?’ said the March Hare. ‘Exactly so’ said Alice. ‘Then you should say what you mean’, the March Hare went on. ‘I do,’ Alice hastily replied; ‘at least -‐‑ at least I mean what I say -‐‑ that's the same thing you know.’ ‘Not the same thing a bit!’ said the Hatter. ‘You might just as well say that ‘I see what I eat’ is the same thing as ‘I eat what I see!’ ‘You might just as well say’, added the March Hare that ‘I like what I get’ is the same thing as ‘I get what I like!’ ‘You might just as well say,’ said the Dormouse ,who seemed to be talking in his sleep, that ‘I breathe when I sleep’ is the same thing as ‘I sleep when I breathe!’ ‘It is the same thing with you,’ said the Hatter, and here the conversation dropped and the party sat silent for a minute, while Alice thought over all she could remember about ravens and writing desks, which wasn’t much. Alice’s interaction with the Mad-‐‑Hatter is a model of rhetorical ‘nous’. She is an active participant in the dialogues, assertive about her own views and able to contradict absurd propositions. However, although she rightly assumes that saying ‘I believe I can guess that’ is roughly equivalent to ‘I can find out the answer’, the creatures attempt to outfox her commonsense through logical arguments. The exchange puts the equivalents she proposes (I say what I mean = I mean what I say) under pressure. What we can see includes more objects than food, so ‘I see what I eat’ is not equivalent to ‘I eat what I see’. Sleeping does involve breathing but breathing includes more processes than sleeping, so ‘I breathe when I sleep’ is not the same as ‘I sleep when I breathe’ (even if all agree it is the same for the Dormouse – who is constantly asleep). While meaning is ‘at risk’, it is grammar that enables the exchange to proceed. In these dialogues (as in so many in this book), grammar is a resource for ‘serious play’ as Gregory Bateson (1972) once said. Alice decides that the exchange is not worth the effort and that good sense is not going to be possible at this tea-‐‑party. For many students, the requirement that they write a story in response to a stimulus constellates anxiety rather than playful enthusiasm. They wonder, ‘How do I start and then how do I go on?’ Well, genre is one rhetorical resource – a way of structuring narratives to fulfill social purposes and address audiences. In the grammatics project, we made use of narrative structure with teachers but supplemented this with other resources for engaging readers, ‘making us care’ about what happens to characters in stories. In the interpersonal realm, these included: internal focalization, narration and dialogue as well as evaluative resources like attitude and graduation (including elaboration). For more information on these, see Martin & White, 2005 or Humphrey, et al, 2012. In this way, we deployed the meaning potential of grammatics, enabling students (via good teaching) to know what they could write and how they could amplify the significance of events in stories, making them dramatic and psychologically meaningful. Teachers modeled resources in narrative texts such as Blueback by Tim Winton, Unhappily Ever After by Paul Jennings and The Hitchhiker by Roald Dahl amongst others. How did teachers do it? Here is an excerpt from a much longer interview with a Year 10 teacher called Tom3 who taught elaboration in the context of a larger unit of work on the play, Antigone.

3 All teachers and students have been given pseudonyms.


Tom: because we were studying Antigone, we wanted to try and link what we were doing with narrative as much as we could to the text we were studying. Because the curriculum is so cramped already, we thought, ‘well, we have a narrative text anyway – a play that is a narrative. We may as well try and use that as much as possible.’ And, there is a particular speech in this play -‐‑ you probably know it, the ‘messenger’ speech, which is sort of like a self-‐‑contained narrative in and of itself. It essentially describes what happens in the play up to that point. So, what we thought we'd choose a film that hopefully would engage the kids, and get them to write on a particular battle scene from the film in the style of the Greek messenger. We actually chose Troy and showed them a scene where Achilles and all the rest of the Greeks first land on the beaches of Troy and sort of takeover that position. Interviewer: Right. Tom: And so, we watched that a few times. We talked about it and I got them to write on that. And whilst this had happened, we looked at a few different things. We looked at graduation and we looked at elaboration in particular. I wanted to make elaboration the focus of this, with them being able to elaborate on aspects of the battle and try and make it interesting -‐‑ or elaborate on what they thought was important for dramatic effect. So, they had to do a draft, and then I gave them some feedback on parts where I thought they could still improve or provide more elaboration and things like that, and then they actually rewrote it again. Interviewer: Based on your feedback? Tom: Based on the feedback, yes, and then they did a final copy, and then I handed the final copy back to them after I marked it and said ‘Right, now I want you to highlight everywhere in the text that you have elaborated. And actually comment on why you elaborated there and whether you think it helps the text as a piece of writing. And, they did that. Some of them did it better than others. One of Tom’s students, Corinne, reveals some of what she was trying to do as a writer of her narrative with the first part reproduced here below. Even if she has ongoing problems with consistency in tense, her narrative takes us in to the inner world of her character, plunging us in to the drama of his struggle with his father. Corinne’s second story (first paragraph) The room was silent. Not even the slightest movement can be heard. But somehow he felt relieved. He knew that he would much rather the silence than hearing his parents fighting from inside the cupboard and come out seeing the bruises on his mother's face. He hated it, and he hated himself for being weak to fight his father but he knew that he could not stay weak forever. If this continues both him and his mother will die. The only way to survive is to have his father gone forever, with teacher guidance and peer discussion. In a later interview , Corinne was asked what she was trying to do in her writing. Here is an excerpt which indicates the kind of rhetorical orientation to grammatical choices we encouraged in our project. Interviewer: Okay. So what were you trying to do as a writer in that piece of writing? Corinne: I was trying to tell people about what he thinks – like in the inner world. Like, because he was being bullied for a long time and he really need to like -‐‑ -‐‑ I don't know how to explain that. Interviewer: Okay, so you were talking about the inner world. What does that mean, ‘inner world’? Corinne: Like what he thinks and how it feels about his father and stuff. Interviewer: Okay, and you do that in that part that you read out very well, very well indeed. What parts of that do you think helps the reader understand what's going on inside the character's head? Corinne: Well, deep down inside – he actually hated his father but he kind of hides it. Like he's too scared to show him. He is too weak to fight his father and he really hates that. Interviewer: So, does that work for you using the inner and outer world? You know when you are writing a narrative like this where you are trying to get a sense of character? Corinne: Yeah, yeah. It gives the character more depth. Students in NSW and Victoria wrote narratives that utilized resources and discussed what worked and what didn’t. It was a period of experimentation: ‘having a go’ and reflecting on texts with a view to


improving their ability to to focalize events through the eyes of a character and to render these in distinctive ways. Here is the orientation stage of an initial story by a NSW Year 10 student called Cate who writes well but tends to waffle. Spelling and grammatical choices are left as they were in the draft. Cate’s first story 12th and Elm On the corner of 12th and Elm there is a house one just like any other in the conjoining streets. It is white, double story with a red roof and a matching red door. The people in this house are just like any ordinary people. The woman is Joan, she is of average height with blonde hair and brown eyes. She is an accountant, and spends her weekends baking. The man is Peter taller than most men you’d see, with auburn locks and blue eyes that held authority. Peter and Joan have three children, Sarah, Ryan and Noah. Sarah is seven very mature for her age and although she is not the oldest fond of taking the lead. Ryan is thirteen oldest of the three with an eye for mystery. Little Noah is the youngest at only three but that doesn’t stop him from accompanying his brother on all his adventures. Our story starts with their latest adventure, the case of 13 Elm. …. Cate’s second story – following experimentation with focalization, dialogue and elaboration -‐‑ was much shorter. Instead of building an exhaustive orientation like that in her first narrative, she began ‘in media res’, plunging the reader in and highlighting the drama of the occasion (a race between siblings). Only the first paragraph of her story is reproduced here to indicate the changes in her approach to story beginnings. Cate’s second story Shadow The fear in the boy's eyes grew as he stared at it. His stomach churned and there was a slight shake present in his right knee. Death and life were hand in hand at the present time. The shadow lurked above him, rising higher and consuming the light as he went. The shadow was hungry, ready to make his attack at will. But he wouldn’t budge, not even a single shake of an unsteady finger was being made, for the shadow was waiting, waiting for the boy to make the first move. His name is Tom. The boys name is Tom. Did he want to die? No. Was it inevitable? Very much so. … Note Cate’s use of elaboration which provides a vivid reformulation of the actions taken by the character Tom (note: elaboration is indicated using = sign): The shadow was hungry = ready to make his attack at will’ and ‘But he wouldn’t budge,= not even a single shake of an unsteady finger was being made.’ Note also the use of strong behavioural verbs like ‘stared,’ ‘lurked’ and ‘churned’ to represent the feelings of the focalizing character. Cate was experimenting with short punchy sentences here, in contrast to her earlier work featuring complex sentences. Cate highlighted the significance of this syntactic shift in her later interview. Sometimes a pithy (even one word) sentence is more powerful rhetorically than a complex sentence, as Myhill, et al (2013) noted in the texts of more able writers. 4. Semiotic know-‐‑how Of course, re-‐‑imagining grammar in a multimodal curriculum requires an even greater shift. Beyond creation of an interface with key concepts from literary theory (such as representation and focalization) and understandings of the role of grammar within the larger architecture of language; beyond the creation of a rhetorical metalanguage for producing effective texts, we need a grammar for analyzing meanings in images and their distinctive forms of expression. In short, we need a grammar to support semiotic know-‐‑how. Our students need to utilize grammar to interpret visual as well as verbal choices and their interplay. For example, in a recent HSC paper, students were asked the following question about a painting of Albertus Seba by Jacob Houbraken (from 1730). HSC question: How does the image represent an individual who values discovered objects?


Whilst there are several features of this image that could be highlighted in an answer to this question – botanical drawings and the figure’s pointing finger drawing attention to these drawings for example –Seba’s eyes meet those of the viewer, producing the visual equivalent of direct address. This ‘contact’ image highlights the importance of discovered objects to this 18th century ‘gentleman scholar’. Although they make meaning in distinctive ways, as Kress & van Leeuwen (2006) emphasize, we can analogize from choices in language to those made in images to reason about meaning making (what these authors call ‘semiosis’). In the grammatics project, we made use of the affordances of systemic functional grammar to explore parallel areas of meaning in multimodal texts (see Macken-‐‑Horarik & Unsworth, 2014 and Unsworth & Macken-‐‑Horarik, 2015 for papers about this aspect of the project. The representation of options for contact, social distance and attitude of characters can be depicted as choices from systems relevant to interaction. I am grateful to teachers of Mount Waverley North School for permission to use this slide from their presentation at a national conference in 2013.


We can apply the interactive grammar to images from original illustrations for Alice in Wonderland by John Tenniel and compare these to movie stills from the 2010 feature film by Tim Burton.

In the image above, we can trace gaze vectors between the Red Queen and Alice but there is no contact with (and no demand of) the viewer. We see the Queen in a relatively ‘long shot’ which depicts not only the two central characters but the King and courtly attendants surrounding the pair. Although our view is relatively ‘equal’, the bodies of the Alice and the Queen are at an oblique angle to the viewer and thus we are invited to contemplate their interaction at an impersonal distance. Tenniel’s choices contrast with those made in the still image of the Red Queen from the movie by Tim Burton.

In this second image, we are positioned at a low angle to the queen and, via the frontal angle as highly involved with her. This allows the filmmaker to capture her imperious gaze at possible victims of her


inquisition. In fact, we see her as the frog courtiers must see her and are thus drawn in to their terror at her gaze. Drawing on recent work by Painter et al, 2013, we see ‘along with’ the courtiers and thus invited to identify with them. It seems to me that if we are to have access to a semiotic grammar in school English, we need ways of comparing ‘apples with apples’ and ‘oranges with oranges’. A common set of abstract terms is necessary – terms like ‘representation’, ‘focalization’ and ‘attitude’. In this way we can explore common meanings and analyze different ways in which these meanings are made (if they are made of course). For example, within the terrain of focalization in language, we are aligned with the subjective viewpoint of a character through a pattern of ‘verba sentiendi’ – verbs of seeing, feeling and thinking sourced to a particular character. These choices predominate in inner worlds and alternate with phases representing ‘what is seen’ – the outer world. In images, however, we are aligned (at least temporarily) with the view of a character through contact images (+ gaze) and how these alternate with observe images (-‐‑ gaze). In film images, this is often called the shot-‐‑reverse shot. In some multimodal texts, we are aligned with characters through visual focalization but not verbal focalization. The interpersonal meanings in one mode may converge or diverge and this makes for some interesting analysis of viewer/reader alignment. The potential for literary interpretation in English has only been extended by recent research into the grammar of multimodal literature. Concluding remarks We are in some important new territory in 21st century classrooms and have only just begun to re-‐‑imagine grammar, drawing on important work within systemic functional semiotics pioneered by Michael Halliday, Jim Martin, Joan Rothery, Frances Christie, Len Unsworth, Clare Painter amongst others. The key issue is to see how reflections on grammar serve crucial disciplinary work in English – help us to build knowledge progressively using a common but increasingly differentiated metalanguage, supports rhetorical adventures in composition and excursions into multimodality. We are at the edge of these new ways of knowing and require navigational tools for finding our way into the largely unmapped waters of our disciplinary domains. The key is to respect and foster the different kinds of knowing and the way grammar figures differently in each. For publications referred to above and papers about the grammatics project, see references below.

References Andrews, R., Torgerson, C., Beverton, S., Freeman, A., Locke, T., Low, G., Robinson, A. & Zhu, D. (2006), The

effect of grammar teaching on writing development. British Educational Research Journal, 32, (1), 39-‐‑55.

Halliday, M. A.K. (2002), On grammar and grammatics, in J. J. Webster (Ed.) On Grammar, [Vol. 1 of the Collected Works of M.A.K. Halliday]. London: Continuum, pp. 384-‐‑417.

Humphrey, S., Droga, L. & Feez, S. (2012), Grammar and Meaning (new edition), Newtown, Sydney: PETAA Kress G. & van Leeuwen, T. (1996) Reading Images: the grammar of visual design. London: Routledge. Macken-‐‑Horarik, M., Love, K. & Unsworth, L. (2011), A grammatics ‘good enough’ for school English in

the 21st century: Four challenges in realising the potential. Australian Journal of Language and Literacy, 34(1), 9-‐‑21.

Macken-‐‑Horarik, M., Sandiford, C., Love, K. & Unsworth, L. (2015), New ways of working ‘with grammar in mind’ in School English: Insights from systemic functional grammatics, Linguistics and Education, 31, 145-‐‑ 158.

Macken-‐‑Horarik, M. & Unsworth, L. (2014), New challenges for literature study in primary school English: building teacher knowledge and know-‐‑how through systemic functional theory, Onomázein: Revista semestral de linuistica, filogia y traduccion, Numero Especial IXth ALSFAL (2014), 230-‐‑251.

Martin, J.R. & White, P. (2005), The Language of Evaluation: Appraisal in English, London: Palgrave. Myhill, D., Jones, S. & Watson, A. (2013), Grammar matters: How teachers' grammatical knowledge

impacts on the teaching of writing. Teaching and Teacher Education, 36, 77-‐‑91. Painter, C., Martin, J. R. & Unsworth, L. (2013), Reading Visual Narratives: Image Analysis of Children’s

Picture Books, Shefflield, UK and Bristol, US: Equinox.


Unsworth L. & Macken-‐‑Horarik, M. (2015) Interpretive responses to images in picture books by primary and secondary school students: Exploring curriculum expectations of a ‘visual grammatics,’ for English in Education, 49 (1), 56-‐‑79.

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