The History Boys

[R. Broath]

Slick as a pair of fish we sidled out.
Away from Latin and its fiendish rules,
from the old Brother flicking his cane
at us when verbs and nouns, trapped
like frantic animals, tumbled from us
so wrong we hoped that he would cry.

Away from school and the cry
of boys ligging about, acting out
last night’s TV; away – just the two of us,
from chalk-stained ingrained rules
that held the timid trapped
behind these learning walls of cane.

Tomorrow, maybe, the sting of the cane
would wound, force a cry.
For now we felt ourselves un-trapped,
abroad in an un-mastered world. Out
where we might forge our own rules
that in their making might make us.

No clue where the rutted road led us,
too young, too soon, for raising too much Cain,
for testing truths in Life’s book of rules.
Sun shone. Amidst the Autumn cry
of crows we were bound to find out
that, even in freedom, we were trapped.

Not as rabbits or foxes are trapped,
they had more wit than us –
might chew through paw in getting out;
nor as rebel farmers hid wheat to save cain*
as landlords tumbled hovels in a hue and cry,
back when poor paid lives for breaking rules.

No. Our sort had no idea of the rules
that would fetter, hold us trapped
within this land within this lore whose battle-cry
from generation to generation has set us,
brother against brother. Oh tortured land of Cain
pray that the fire in Rosaleen's heart may never go out.

Freedom's but a rousing cry against the rules,
a finding out that we are trapped,
and, for each of us, morning brings the master's cane.

* A levy on the produce of small-holdings.

[BenJohnson]

A pretty good sestina there. I like the alteration of cane and cain which breaks the endings slightly. I loved s1, but felt by s6 you had become too constrained by the endings. Overall the content reminded me very much of your prose pieces (content wise only) with your usual humorous and telling reflections on your past.

This is poetry form I haven't tried yet, mainly because I fear I would struggle to carry it off. Overall I think you have done pretty well.

[R. Broath]

I think the attraction, and the limitations, of most formal writing is in the constrictions imposed. I suppose the easy way to do these would be to set a list of noun/verb interchanges but I considered that such a procedure might take away any spontaneity (although, as you point out, Ben, the form itself imposes such restrictions anyway.)

Overall the content reminded me very much of your prose pieces (content wise only) with your usual humorous and telling reflections on your past.

My defence is that with such material I cannot be accused of plagiary.
Glad this worked to some extent for you Ben and thank you for the read.

Jimmy

[David]

A sestina! You're a glutton for punishment, Jimmy.

I've never tried one myself, because I've always thought the restrictions would be too, well, restrictive. Even though this often comes to life, as I would expect of you, I'm not sure that you haven't demonstrated the proof of that.

For instance, if you didn't have to have six stanzas (plus envoi), would you, unprompted, have taken so long to say what you say (very well) here? I wonder.

Many of the lines are very good in themselves -

Slick as a pair of fish we sidled out (but can fish sidle?)

behind these learning walls of cane

No clue where the rutted road led us

Sun shone. Amidst the Autumn cry
of crows

I just think that they would work better if allowed to run free, rather than corralled into this uncomfortable form.

But - if you want to write a sestina, why not? And this is a pretty good try.

I'll be glad to see you back to your usual relatively untrammeled self, though.

Cheers

David

[R. Broath]

Thanks David.

For instance, if you didn't have to have six stanzas (plus envoi), would you, unprompted, have taken so long to say what you say (very well) here? I wonder.

It's a good point. But I think that obviously what's said would necessarily be covered differently and that is one of the attractions of form. I think each has its own attributes. I suspect that few would attempt to cover heavyweight material in Limerick form or stream of consciousness in Ballad. (I realise that last statement makes me a hostage to fortune but I think you know what I mean.)

(but can fish sidle?)

Now you know well that no fish were ill treated in this poem and that the sidling was done by the slick escapees.

uncomfortable form.

Perhaps my attempt makes it seem so but I think it can be used to good effect in narrative poetry.

I would encourage people to try formal writing if only to experience its discipline. Free verse has its place,of course and its ubiquitous use has the effect of allowing folk to venture into poetic writing without the need to follow rules. It is commendable in that sense but the downside is that it gives carte blanche to the 'It's poetry if I say it is' school.
Again. Nothing intrinsically wrong with putting pen to paper and scribbling away. But I still would defend the basic tenet of learning, or at least being aware of, rules before breaking them.

Rant over. Thanks again for your attention to this, David.

Jimmy

[David]

I would encourage people to try formal writing if only to experience its discipline.

I completely agree with you, old chap.

[OwenEdwards]

I think occasionally - s3 springs to mind - I felt a little cold at the choices of words and flow. Sometimes emotion and verse didn't connect, for me. Beyond that, lovely...especially:

the rules
that would fetter, hold us trapped
within this land within this lore whose battle-cry
from generation to generation has set us,
brother against brother. Oh tortured land of Cain
pray that the fire in Rosaleen's heart may never go out.

A rousing, aching ending.

Makes me wonder whether I should post my response to the Minstrel Boy...

On the note of limericks and serious content...not the same thing at all, but it reminded me of Blunden and Concert Party: Busseboom, using short quatrains similar to music hall lyrics, and following that style of speech, before that final, stunning counterpoint..."kicking men to death"