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GCSE Creative Writing : Factory Work in 1911

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GCSE Creative Writing : Factory Work in 1911 August, Thursday 18th 1910 Yesterday in the factory. The girls, in their dirty and untidy clothes, their hair disorderly as though they had just got up, the expressions on their faces fixed by the unbroken noise of the transmission belts and by the individual machines, automatic ones, of course, but unpredictably breaking down. These girls aren't people, you don't greet them, you don't apologise when you bump into them. If you call them over to do something, they do it but return to their machine at once, with a nod of the head you show them what to do, they stand there in petticoats, they are at the mercy of the slightest power and haven't enough calm understanding to recognise this power and satisfy it by a glance, a bow. But when six o'clock comes and we call it out to each other, when we untie the handkerchiefs from around our throats and our hair, dust ourselves with a brush that we pass around and is constantly called for by the impatient, when we pull our skirts on over our heads and clean our hands as well as we can-then at last we are women again. Despite bad teeth most girls smile, shake their stiff bodies, you can no longer bump into them, stare at them, or overlook them, we are real people. Like I say we are real people who work extremely hard for our destitute pay, we average 22/6 a week, that's insufficient to live on. Seeing as our holidays have just come to an end, most of the factory workers do not have a vast amount of money to spend on food or even to live. Primarily we need a pay rise! September, Wednesday 23rd 1910 My life might as well come to an end. I have no job, no money, and no prospects. ...read more.


This man is a godsend he is my angel! He has given me a key to an extremely lovely flat its amazing I cannot describe how I feel, I'm ecstatic. Morgan Terrace is its name. They are lovely, beautiful, radiant, exquisite. I am so happy. I think that this diary is a miracle book because everything I ask for it grants me. It also gives me little extras that I am also extremely grateful for. Gerald has given me money so I can look after myself. I am quite sure that Gerald is not going to ask for anything in return because he knows that I cannot give it to him, but if I could I would give him the world for all this help. I really don't want to go back to the terrace bar now, I think that I have enough confidence to look for a work placement now with all Gerald's help. September Saturday 2nd 1911 Gerald is going away for this week he leaves on Monday I have the feeling he will break off our affair because we have not spoken that much recently. He is the most important person in my life, nobody has ever cared for me like he does I have really appreciated it whilst it lasted but I will be extremely sad when he tells me it is over. I don't think, in fact I know he doesn't feel about me the way I feel about him. I have really enjoyed these months of my life. Gerald has given me such strength and hope in myself and loved me for who I am. I didn't have to do anything for him like in the birling factory. I didn't have to pretend, and lie to his face like I would have to in Milwards if somebody liked a dress I hated. I have always been myself around him and I am ever so grateful for him appreciating what I had to give which was minimal. ...read more.


How can I say bringing up this baby, I cannot bring up a baby. I have no money, no man, and no suitable living conditions for the baby. I am so low at the moment. I was perceived as an 'old tart' I hate that, it makes me so upset. I'm not an old tart. When Eva was working at Milwards she would look down on 'women of the town' now Daisy, a woman of the town, pregnant, would love to be Eva now. Eva complained so much when she had to get up in the morning to go to work, how selfish of her. Now Daisy has no reason to even get up nor go out. What is the need for me 'Daisy Renton' to go out? Nobody knows whom I am, except the revolting upper class scum businessmen who come to the bar, because they need somebody to talk to, somebody who does not know them by day. They are probably 'Mr Birlings' by day, nobody likes them. Upper class snobs who would not give 2/6 to the low class because they do not want to ruin their reputations, they don't want people to know they give workers what they want. They only give 'women of the town' what they want. Why can't more men be 'Gerald's' he didn't class me. He never knew what I did for work; he kept Daisy safe and warm, with nothing in return. Why do 'Mr Birlings' always have to have something in return, there the selfish ones. They also don't know what consequences are. Take Eric, he is canaille in my eyes, who drinks his sorrows away because he has nobody to talk to and never thinks about anybody else apart from himself. I feel like being an Eric for once, I only care about myself not the baby or Eric or Gerald only me. I am thinking about all these people now and I probably never appear into these people's heads. Do I ever appear into anybody's? I don't think I do. ...read more.

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