GCSE Poetry LIVE!
21 Jan 2009 1 Comment
in Book Reviews, Random Musings, Teaching
Word of the day: Qualitative.
We’re sitting in the middle, sandwiched between the two main places of unrest. A no-man’s land of Poetry Live! And like all good soldiers, we ventured forth into battle, straining to see, to hear through the mists of foggy clouds of noxious gases and crisp packets.
Armed with booklets and anthologies, we ventured forth, pens poised, bayonets sharpened, and eyes on the stage. There was the fear that Gillian Clarke would bore us into submission, sending us reeling back into the rustle of crisp packets, but she held us captivated. I glanced at the students on my left, their faces glued to the stage as if to “that old rope”, coerced quietly into concentration. Brows furrowed as the precise, warming voice filled the room, clouding the rustles behind us. Even references to the Irish Question, 1916, 1998, the IRA were scribbled furiously on our brains.
Intervals left us wanting more, rudely interrupted by the presence of the chief examiner, our students taking their seats readily, eagerly, hungrily. Carol Ann Duffy captivated us further, her down-to-earth gritty realism, reference to reality and precise explanations left us scribbling furiously on pages, arms, legs, minds. An updated Salome entertained students in a way that no classroom reading can ever do, striving to capture what poetry was initially about: the naked spoken word. The spoken work overtook the written in an attempt to flood our senses with the power of language, attempting to erase the ingrained notion that poetry should be read and not heard. Hearing Duffy’s poetry for the first time, many of our students were pleasantly surprised by the humour, irony, straight-forwardness of her poems. Stripped bare of the classroom setting, students were illicitly exposed to poetry the way it should be experienced. Most were untainted by the “death” caused by excessive scrutiny and therefore bathed in the language of the poems without worrying about exams and meaning-making. Just plain, unadulterated naked poetry.
Duffy left amongst cheers and wolf whistles as Simon Armitage ascended. Our students cast sidelong glances, wondering what the cheering was about for this plain-looking, West Yorkshireman, striding purposefully towards the microphone. Amid howling laughter and claps, he recited a warm-up poem about an obscure place practising witchcraft, painting their genitals blue and orange. After this, there was no going back, we were hooked, obsessive fans, drawn to our own “Anchor.” Those who were hearing for the first time, the poet’s stories about his personal life, his poetry, his art, breathed his every breath, waited, mesmerised for a little more. He wowed us for what seemed like five minutes before leaving amidst cheers, catcalls and wolf whistles.
Advice from the chief examiner rudely interrupted us again, despite its usefulness, we wanted more poetry. Grace Nichols was next on the menu. Armed with accent, poetry that we did not have in print and an amazing knack for rhythm, Creole was brought to life for the first time for our students. Amongst the rise of noxious gases from other schools, our students seemed captivated by the sights, sounds and smells evoked by Grace Nichols, recreating the Caribbean in the bright lights of Newcastle.
Imtiaz Dharker closely followed with stories of the Indian Subcontinent, some of which were not conducive to the image of Pakistan. Her hatred of an Islamic faith seemed to scream out at me from the poem so divisively named “Honour Killing”. So much for artists and writers trying to break down the misconceptions about the Indian Subcontinent, creating new frontiers and a celebration of a culture. Nevertheless, she was a performer; playing expertly to the crowd who cheered during the delightful performance of “She must be from another Country”. Race relations, we salute you.
The much anticipated, much-celebrated poet and performer really brought down the roof with wild performances of many of his poems; poems we did not have in front of us, naked and unashamed, exposed language slicing through the rustles, his shouts drowning out anything and everything. Funny, passionate and completely committed, Agard held the audience, cradled closely to his chest, like children, sending out messages of hope for the young, a multicultural approach to poetry, life and words, which hopefully did not fall on deaf ears. A half-caste tongue in a half-caste head, convoluted notions of race, division and caste thrown aside in a symbolic gesture: the trademark, “standing on one leg”. Raising the roof whilst simultaneously bringing the house down, Agard left our young people with notions of language as “sexy and erotic”. In his own words, all the poets had proved to us, “language can really turn you on!”
Brilliance Of The Moon – Lian Hearn (The Tales of the Otori)
12 Feb 2007 Leave a Comment
in Blogroll, Book Reviews
The final book in the Tales of the Otori Trilogy (or not, as we shall see later!)
The final book is full of tales of the battles fought by Takeo with his new Army. I admit, it get tedious at times, especially sicne it lacks the flashes of brilliance from the first book in the trilogy. Rather than being packed with wisdom and timeless quotes, the final book moves more towards trying to wrap up the story…or not.
This is not the final book, there is an open-ended conclusion, leaving room for thr recently published The Harsh Cry of The Heron! I must admit though, it was not the ending I was expecting, and it’s not a “live-happily-ever-after” kind of conclusion.
I must admit, it was quite a riveting trilogy; it leaves the reader wanting more, wanting desperately to know what happens next. This anticipation is what keeps you reading late into the night, despite the fact that you have work the next day.
Yes, it’s not perfect, at times, it’s quite annoying, but one cannot deny this trilogy was well-written, well-researched and a good read!
Yes, it loses it’s charm when you realise the writer is from Australia, whose last name is Rubenstein! (I am yet to discover her “real name!)
In conclusion, read the trilogy, even if it is because you have an interest in reading, or in Japan or you like Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon.
Grass For His Pillow – Lian Hearn (Tales of the Otori – Book 2)
06 Feb 2007 Leave a Comment
in Blogroll, Book Reviews
Ok, so I HAD to read the second book straight away. It would have been wrong not to; I couldn’t leave it on the shelf for the story to fester (although the trilogy has been on my shelf for over a year now)
This is the second book in the tales of the Otori Trilogy, and like most sequels it tried it’s best to live up to its older brother. Written in exactly the same style, continuing the storyline EXACLTY where the first book left off, this book did not disappoint.
I must admit the title didn’t suit the book as much as the first title; it seemed a bit misplaced after the brilliance of “Across the Nightingale Floor.” However, despite this, the story was continued using crystalline prose, which left the reader wanting more at the end of each page.
Unlike many writers, Lian Hearn (not her real name unfortunately) manages to maintain the reader’s interest through extremely long chapters. This is a skill in itself so the reader can forgive the author somewhat for glossing over aspects of the story. This is one failing with the novels, the reader wants background information; we are gagging to know about the sub-plots and the fringe characters, their lives, loves and adventures rather than have them paraphrased into a few paragraphs. Although this would make the trilogy unnecessarily long, the reader cannot help but wonder about the history of the fringe characters.
The second book followed the same sequence as the first: Takeo, as a man has his own voice, telling his own story, demonstrating to the reader how he has developed and matured since the events of Across The Nightingale Floor; again Kaede’s story is told in the third person, as a woman in a patriarchal/feudal society she has no voice of her own, she is defined by an omnipresent narrator, who the reader begins to feel has a more “feminine” voice as we turn the pages, desperate to know if the two are ever reunited.
I do not want to reveal the story to everyone, but just to say, again, the reader is left wanting more, and ready to start the third book on the same night! Well-written and exciting! I am currently reading the third book…watch this space!
Across The Nightingale Floor – Lian Hearn
02 Feb 2007 1 Comment
in Blogroll, Book Reviews
At first, the Japanese names and confusing relationships between characters make this novel difficult to get into. But after initial confusions have been cleared and you’re completely clear in your head about who is who, you won’t be able to put this book down!
It took a while to get into, and each time you stop reading, it’s difficult to get back into; this is why I read it for 6 hours solid one night! I must admit though, there are times where the reader longs for a more detailed fleshing out of description of place, and forming three dimensional minor characters rather than reducing them to walk-on parts, used only to further the narrative.
There are a few absurd moments in the novel (I do not want to reveal them and spoil the story) but leaving these aside, I still thoroughly enjoyed it! Maybe due to the fact that I haven’t read anything in a long time! Book-deprivation does weird things to the mind!
Described by some as Harry Potter meets Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon, this novel was full of medieval Japanese tribal warfare, love, betrayal and ties of mutual trust. I personally believe it’s nothing like Harry Potter; Harry Potter was pretentious, written by an author who was assured of her success; this, on the other hand is more like the movie Hero, or Crouching Tiger.
It was so powerfully moving, despite being fictional; one cannot help but overtly care about what happens to the characters. Particularly poignant was the portrayal of the position of women in the tribal society, treated as pawns, married for alliances and power, women are treated as useful commodities, but at the end of this first book in the trilogy, the beautiful Kaede gives a slight indication that she may take matters into her own hands…
All in all, a great read; a wonderful piece of escapist fantasy that allows the reader too escape from reality and enter an unpredictable world of blood, war, betrayal and love. But refreshingly, the love is kept to a minimum, there are no clichés and romantic illusions in this novel!
I’m currently racing through the second novel in the trilogy….watch this space!
Note: Lian Hearn is a not the author’s real name…It’s supposed to be based loosely on a Japanese historical figure or something; I wasn’t interested enough to actually read up about it!
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