Welcome Back (Again) John Greenleaf Whittier

A rather extraordinary individual, in addition to being a tremendous poet, John Greenleaf Whittier seems to have sadly disappeared from the public school curriculum. (Full disclosure: Though to be fair, I am unclear as to how significant a part of it he ever was.) Despite being beloved by a who's who of American poets (as evidenced by guest list of attendees at his seventieth birthday dinner in 1877: Ralph Waldo Emerson, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Mark Twain, and Oliver Wendell Holmes), the poet's name draws only blank stares from students when asked about his works, though I would venture to guess in the New England region he is much more well-regarded (and remembered).

My introduction to the works of Whittier was through an assignment given to my students last year. Each student was assigned an American literary movement and genre. Along with general information such as relative dates, each student was also supplied with the names of relatively familiar representative authors. For those assigned the Fireside Poets, a Northeast regional sub-genre, Whittier was one of those suggested starting point for research. Wikipedia notes that while Whittier was "[H]ighly regarded in his lifetime and for a period thereafter, he is now remembered for his poem 'Snow-Bound'..." I vividly recall students' having a difficult time finding much background information that was not clearly form a single source. I had asked students to used resources from the library as well, and while our school librarians were more than willing to assist in digging through the meager collection of poetry books available ion site, the actual hard cover sources where limited to a dusty anthology which included a single poem.

Just as his spirit was briefly conjured in my upstate New York classroom a number of year's ago, Thanksgiving gives me an opportunity to all on John Greenleaf Whittier once again. Given the subject matter, Whittier's popular poem, "The Pumpkin," lacks the political bent of his more renowned abolitionist works, but through its simple, accessible images of comfirting pumpkin pie shares with "Snow-Bound" the purpose of showing how the idyllic past can be brought briefly to the present.


Sources:
Poets.org
Poemhunter.com
Wikipedia

Need for Lighter Literary Entrees

Just as we are what we eat, what is ingested intellectually (and let's face it, often on a spiritual level) can color one's outlook. Neither a "good" or "bad" thing, depending on the nature of what is being read, the experience can lead into some dark, though not wholly unsavory, places. This reality is further enhanced in the winter months of perceptibly shorter days and longer periods of darkness...

As a result of recent wear-and-tear that has kept me from running, I have more time. In an effort to fill this gap constructively, I have been reading quite a bit, perhaps more than usual. Though not part of some New Year's literacy resolution, since the start of the new calendar year I have been taking in numerous titles in rapid succession including The Southern Reach Trilogy (Annihilation, Authority and Acceptance) and Borne by Jeff VanderMeer, The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald, Roadside Picnic by Boris Strugatsky and Arkady Strugatsky, Monsters Among Us: An Exploration of Otherworldly Bigfoots, Wolfmen, Portals, Phantoms, and Odd Phenomena by Linda S. Godfrey, March Book One by John Lewis, Andrew Aydin, and Nate Powell, and Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck.

As is always the case with new menu items, in some case I have taken one or two bites and walked away. The Breach by Patrick Lee, for example, just didn't offer enough nutritious value to warrant a full commitment. My personal reading, as has been the case for going on 35 years(!), is always supplemented by a healthy diet of 6-17 comic book titles weekly ranging from the familiar (Action Comics, Detective Comics, The Walking Dead, Black Panther) to "smaller" titles (Evolution, Atomic Robo, Saga, Hack/Slash or Bloodshot).

Each of the literary dishes on this reconstituted diet plan contained some very satisfying flavors in the moments of their enjoyment. In retrospect, however, the majority also possessed some dark and bitter tones. There is a valid argument to be made that much good reading, when considered beyond the superficial, does. Of course, this type of diet does not come without consequences, especially to a body (or mind--trying to stick to my metaphor!) already deficient in certain nutrients. Just as a lack of sunlight in one's day may require adding a Vitamin D supplement to any gustatory regimen, at some point, lighter, more uplifting literature becomes a necessity.

This is where I am at today--in dire need of some light, airy, new reading! While I have a number of books of poetry I turn to for warmth, and more than enough long boxes of past favorites from a "friendlier" time in comic books, filling this requirement in traditional longer-form narrative literature is always a challenge. Interestingly, two recent titles I have enjoyed in the past deal with anthropomorphic animals--a pattern I am unsure as to why it exists it my personal reading tastes (especially as I no longer literally "eat" animals). The first came from a recommendation made on NPR Radio. A few summers ago I read a wonderful piece of historical fiction entitled The Sage of Waterloo by Leona Francombe. It remains the rare book that is neither insultingly silly or immature, that tells a compelling story with weight in a manner that suggests joy and warmth. It also serves as a reminder of the value of expanding one's book choice as it was purchased on a lark, but was significantly rewarding. The second was first read ten years ago and (brainstorming as I write this) may very well get reread soon for purposes of sharing with my current high school juniors, Benjamin Hoff's The Tao of Pooh.

With these two titles (and a few others) in mind, the search for lighter literary entrees continues as I attempt to cleanse my intellectual and spiritual palette of some darker (albeit delicious) flavors...

Run Reader: Toil and Trouble (2015)

The influence of the Fates is foreshadowed early in Toil and Trouble, 
written by Mairghread Scott featuring art by Kelly and Nichole Mathhews.

Cover to Toil and Trouble #1
by Kyla Vanderklugt

Despite being properly schooled in the works of William Shakespeare as an undergraduate at SUNY Brockport, as an educator, I am a little late-to-the-party with a passion for the Bard. While I have dutifully worked with required grade-level plays, it is only the last few years that I have grown convinced of its potential for opening intellectual doors for my lower-level readers. A re-read of The Tragedy of Macbeth, and some accompanying literary analysis was the initiating factor in this growth two summers ago. Much like one sees a certain make of car everywhere once they become familiar with it, it would seem as though Macbeth seems to be popping up more frequently, or at least my level of awareness has been raised. While comic book storylines have always reflected classic literary tropes, recently I re-read a recent miniseries that, more than just reflecting Shakespeare's plot points, made an effort to embellish them.

Yes, there are boiling
cauldrons, as seen here in
issue #2.

Based on important, though underdeveloped, characters created by William Shakespeare, Toil and Trouble fleshes out a potential backstory for the Weird Sisters, or witches, who put into motion, via prophesy and apparition, the events depicted in The Tragedy of Macbeth. Set in and around the familiar story points of the source, this six-issue mini-series from Boom! Studios/Archaia, in the spirit of Tom Stoppard's Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead, presents a slightly different take on the events of the play. Smartly re-purposed more fully as "Fates," rather than witches, by writer Mairghread Scott, the three fates, now named Riata, Cait, and Smertae, are presented as having always guided and protected Scotland unseen, indirectly controlling the line of kings according to the old religion. Macbeth's role is shifted to being that of a pawn (albeit a beloved one by protagonist Smertae) in a much more ancient conflict between the Fates.

In the interest of creating a circumstance during which the spoiled future king Malcolm can strengthen his military credentials, the sisters hatch a scheme led by alpha-Fate Riata, to place Malcolm in a battle that allows this growth. A key aspect of this plan, however, requires that brave Macbeth be cut down in his prime. Though recently returned from exile because of her own past indiscretions at the story's start, Smertae deviates from the plan when it is revealed that she has followed Macbeth since his birth and disagrees with the scheme as laid out. That is the initiating action that set's in motion the events of Toil and Trouble. These narrative nuances periodically dovetail into the more familiar plot, though by the series' final issue, titled "Act 6," an alternate conclusion of sorts reaches fruitiotn that ameliorates the tragic element of the The Tragedy of Macbeth.

While Lady Macbeth is once
again "unsexed" this time she
has a push from Fate in Issue #3. 

Though most readers already know how the story is supposed to end (SPOILER ALERT: it's Macbeth's tragedy, so take a guess), like many works of literature, it is the journey bridging the new with the familiar that creates the tension through all six issues. Because Scott develops Macbeth here as an even more honorable and brave soldier, and therefore a more sympathetic character, his pre-ordained fall in Shakespeare's play is even more tragic... and it is the expectation of that fall on the part of the reader with which Scott plays in revealing a different resolution to the story.

The deceptive actions of key characters throughout the story, most notable Lady Macbeth, is now attributed to the Fates possessing or taking on their appearance at key moments, thereby more actively guiding the chess pieces toward their ultimate station: first placing Macbeth on the throne and then correcting their error by setting up Malcolm as the successor. As the story unfolds there are significantly more allusions to the Scottish setting of the story, especially in developing the "old ways", as represented by the Fates, and their slow recession out of the culture.

The visuals, by Kelly and Nichole Mathhews, includes nods to our characters' Scottish background, and utilizes an appropriately earthy color palette. The figure-work and structure of pages is laid out in a clean style, suggesting an appreciation for mango on the part of the artists. The characters are especially expressive, suggesting an animated storyboard, but not so much that it negates the necessary tone of the books. Fortunately, the words and pictures mesh in a very complimentary fashion that evokes medieval Scotland in a way that is accessibility to modern comic book sensibilities. Of course, as one would expect, the comic book medium allows for more fantastic visuals than could have even been imagined in 1606 England, when Macbeth was written. Were this a movie, the "special effects" quotient would be significantly higher, which is why this medium is so wonderful at visualizing that would be cost prohibitive to produce in another.

In my own collecting of comics, I am much less married to the characters and continuity of the Big Two, so Toil and Trouble fit extremely well in my budget and, more importantly, my desire for well-crafted reading with a literary bent. (Let's face it, Marvel's Deadpool Killustrated from 2013 will only carry you so far.)  It also strikes as making a solid addition to a school library (it is available as a trade paperback). Valuable as both an secondary read, accompanying The Tragedy Macbeth, as well as providing hard evidence for suspicious minds of the vibrancy of Shakespeare's cultural relevance.

A Muster of Faux Classroom Crows

More than just someone to watch over our accolades and team pictures.  (10/11/13)

Over the past five(!) years, I have purchased an artificial crow/raven to adorn my classroom each year. (Yes, crows and raven are NOT the same, but as birds, the two possess enough superficial similarities that I use the names synonymously--fortunately I am not an ornithology teacher.) At the conclusion of each school year, I remove them from the shelves, screens and unused, ancient tech around the room until the following August at which time they will each return to (slightly) different locations.

The crow chick perched on the 

deer skull is a recent addition. When 

it's previous perch, this was taken, 

the mounted television was removed, 

the small crow moved around before 

settling there. (9/1/15)

The first faux crow found it's way into our classroom in the same way most English literature teachers acquire them, as a prop for an October reading of Edgar Allan Poe's "The Raven." In each successive year, however,  I have continued to acquire a new one during the Halloween decoration sales at local party supply stores. Nowadays, Halloween decorations are on sale in mid-August (along with Thanksgiving things!), hence this year's pre-school-purchase.

A morbid, and astute, reader may presuppose that the presence of a murder (or muster) suggests something "bad" is going to happen in this room. Though in Medieval time ravens would tend to congregate on the battlefield to feast on the corpses of the fallen, that depressing intention is not what's behind this style choice--at least not intentionally. Each new school year the presence of the artificial ravens in the classroom elicits a now familiar question from new students: "What's with all the birds/crows/ravens?"

As ours is an English classroom, I like to have some literature-based responses to the question of "why", ranging from the familiar to the esoteric (with secret hopes that during the course of our time together, the unusual will become more familiar). Just a few responses with a literary bent that I may offer during varying points int eh school year include:

As fate would have it, this freebie
poster was received in my school
mail today! (9/1/15)

• "The Raven" by Edgar Allan Poe: Most students are at least vaguely familiar with the poem if for no other reason than it's pop culture references in many a comedic television aside. For some, even those who've "read" it, the symbolism of the raven is often not so clear. Given the poem's close association with Halloween, they do understand it to be somehow dark or evil. Morbid, right?
• Did you know that good ol' Willy Shakes refers to the raven more often than to any other bird? In a number of William Shakespeare's works such as Othello and Macbeth (a play we will work with during the school year), the black bird makes an appearance. For example in Lady Macbeth's speech in Act I Scene V of Macbeth: "The Raven himself is hoarse/That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan/Under my battlements...".
• With any luck, we will be reading some excerpts from Keith Baines' translation of Sir Thomas Malory's Le Morte d'Arthur this year, whcih allows for this connection: in Celtic mythology, ravens are often associated with warfare and the battleground (especially in Irish mythology). In Welsh mythology, ravens figure as the army of King Arthur's knight Owain. King Arthur's messianic return is an aspect of the legend of King Arthur, the mythical 6th-century British king. One recurrent aspect of Arthurian literature was the notion that he would one day return in the role of a messiah to save his people. Other less common concepts include the idea that Arthur was absent leading the Wild Hunt, or that he had been turned into a crow or raven.



Someone has to use the
ancient overhead--why not a
Raven? (10/11/13)

• A Feast for Crows by George R. R. Martin is the fourth of seven planned novels in the epic fantasy "A Song of Ice and Fire" series of novels. The words "crow" and "raven" play multiple roles throughout the series. The most obvious for those who have never read the books or seen the HBO show is the historical one suggested above: A Feast for Crows clearly suggests (though no surprise to fans) that this book will have a hefty headcount of dead to be eaten.  Also, in the Fire and Ice mythology, a "Crow" is the name given to those men who serve on the Wall, the immense ice structure which separates the northern border of the Seven Kingdoms from the lands beyond. Men of the Watch dress entirely in black, giving rise to the nickname "crows"--which is what the Free Folk commonly call them. Finally, characters uses ravens as messenger birds throughout the series. Additionally, the Three-eyed raven appears in Bran Stark's dreams to guide him on a quest. Interesting side note, I had not previously realized: The first name "Bram" is derived from a convergence of two separate etymological sources, one being an abbreviation of "Abraham", but the other being the Gaelic word "bran", meaning "raven". That Martin guy is clever!
• In the past my students and I have read and analyzed J.R.R. Tolkien's The Hobbit (1937), a novel chock full of inetersting tidbits about archettypes and etymology. This was also news to me, but really cool: Roäc is the leader of the Ravens of the Lonely Mountain. Roäc was the son of Carc, and as such "a descendant of those [ravens] that had remained on the hill even after Smaug had driven out their old allies, the Dwarves". Roäc is likely an onomatopoeic name. (Source: Tolkien Gateway)

Like good literature, I like to allow for a number of possible interpretations. For this particular artificial classroom muster, I choose to leave just "what" they mean, ambiguous, though surely those students who fail to put forth energy and effort will see them as circling their the fading life of their individual grades, and others will see them as delivers of a message of growth and learning that will allow them to reach new heights.

A panoramic view of a classroom surrounded by faux crows circa October 2013.

Summer Reading: Childhood's End

While summer break has not "officially" begun yet, thanks to ten days of professional development, assessment administration, scoring and meetings, I have already finished one of the novels I'd set aside for the next two months. After trying to power through Arthur C. Clarke's Rendezvous With Rama (1972) on-and-off for the past two years, I decided to change course and begin anew with yet another of his science fiction classics, Childhood's End (1953).

Other than a familiarity with the title and it's association with the author, I went into reading Childhood's End with only the expectations that come with both. To put my state in the more relatable position of a movie-goer, it would be fair to say I was "spoiler free," and with each chapter and reveal it became clearer that there is no other way to approach this particular tale and properly enjoy it. Even the book's packaging, including various cover art and front and back matter quotes, suggest only the smallest (and most consumer friendly) insight into what actually transpires within. There are potentially numerous levels at which to engage Childhood's End. It is the "higher claim on humanity" teased by author C.S. Lewis on the back of the Del Rey that first suggested the complexity of the themes addressed to me, if I were to evoke them in my reading.

To my reading, Childhood's End is a complex science-fiction mystery that touches on a number of heady topics ranging from first contact with alien life, parapsychology(!), evolution and racial memory. Along the way, Clarke plays with the a number of the reader's preconceived notions of the way things are, turning standard archetypes and visuals on their ear to surprise and challenge. Lacking a single main character in the traditional sense, the story is told from the perspective of a third-person omniscient narrator. Just over 200 pages in length, Childhood's End is structured in twenty-four short chapters divided into three parts: Earth and the Overlords, The Golden Age, and The Last Generation. Each part represents a jump in the story's narrative timeline, and while new characters are introduced, through the magic of science fiction, there are other characters who remain unchanged by the passage of time. Of those, the most prominent, and, in terms of sci-fi literature, iconic, is alien Overlord Karellen.

If the best way to read Childhood's End is to do so without any info going in, writing about my own experience with the text without giving away too much is a challenge. I have read and watched so much science-fiction content in my life, the ability to engage a work of entertainment knowing nothing was a rare treat, and one I wouldn't deprive anyone else of. To write too much more about Childhood's End without giving away a number of turns is nearly impossible. This novel is so chock full of fascinating characterization and images, I had difficulty putting it down once begun (in stark contrast to my aforementioned efforts to read Clarke's Rendezvous with Rama).

Childhood's End is in many ways an ideal summer read. Capable of being read on numerous levels, as both futurist fiction, science-fiction entertainment or a plain, old mystery, the tight structure and plot make for a breezy and fulfilling read. Depending on one's interest in the themes revealed throughout (by page 174 I finally figured out the meaning of the title), it can be read as a light read or re-read and analyzed for much deeper meaning. For myself, I look forward to returning to my, by now, dog-eared copy for a return engagement with hopes of yielding more from this tremendous work of literature.

The wonderful quandary having read Clarke's Childhood's End first leaves me in is an enviable one: whatever titles I do read as summer break really begins in ten days will have quite a bit to live up to as both entertainment and thought provoking literature.

Best-Laid Plans?

Three different logs for one goal...

Sometimes the literary context for the source of one of John Steinbeck's most popular novellas rings in my head. Just as the title (taken from "To A Mouse" by Robert Burns") suggested doom and gloom for Lennie and George, the echo is often not a sign of good things to come, but rather a harbinger of failure: "'the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry." I've really worked to have this particular plan come out on the positive side of the ledger...

When I began this most recent training cycle back on February 15 it was with the goal of completing next weekend's Flower City Half Marathon. At the onset, I lacked a true plan due mostly to my own waffling for a few weeks prior to actually stepping foot in the gym. The cold, icy and snowy weather pattern, that only recently broke for consecutive days, couldn't last forever.

This morning's 10 mile loop.

The thought of pacing a friend on his quest for a 2 hour half-marathon had been gestating for a few months before I my having acted upon it the morning following a Valentine's dinner party, and while many in the local running community will be realizing their lifelong dreams of running Monday's Boston Marathon, my aspirations are less lofty. Over the past nine weeks, I have been trying to chip away at four years of rust in hopes of comfortably completing a slightly less heralded (though popular) local race at a shorter (by 50%) distance.

Having survived a few weeks on the dreadmill early on (a situation I no longer dread quite so much, and one I actually seek out weekly for its variety), Sunday morning I completed my final scheduled long run, a ten-miler at what has become my only pace, between 8:20-8:30 minutes per mile. I have made efforts to consciously slow down or pick-up, but whether running 2 or 10 miles, that has where I've settled for the moment. All that remains in preparation for the race, is to taper into two rest days prior to Sunday's 7:30 a.m. start.

Now that my current plan will soon be reaching its conclusion (fingers crossed!), it will soon be time to consider next steps. I like a great deal the current plan's structure of four weekly runs, with cross-training on one day and rest on the remaining two, one of which follows the Sunday long-run that accounts for 30-40% of the overall mileage. I have put together similar plans for myself in the past in preparation for distances ranging from a 13.1 to 33 miles, so it has helped me achieve previous goals, so there remains a strong likelihood that I will stick to that organization. I am, however, leery of counting any chickens before they've hatched, so will wait until I finish one goal before setting too much of a foundation for the next.

Over the last ten days my left hamstring has been "acting up," so in some ways, I'm just trying to make it through next weekend. Taking a conscientious approach of  stretching, icing, and targeted resting, I remain confident that it will play out favorably with a finish in the two hour range. After that (and a suitable recovery period), there will be time for basking in the afterglow of having successfully followed through on one set of plans before setting some new ones in the days that follow April 26.

That Time I Went to See the Hut Where an Author My Students Had Never Heard Of Once Lived

Close-up of bronze statue of Jack London created by artist Cedric Wentworth. (7/12/14)

Guess where. (7/12/14)

This past week, while working with my Advanced Placement juniors in the library on a research project about American Literary Movements, I asked one student if she had read The Call of the Wild. When she looked at me as if I had three eyes I followed up with "You've read works by Jack London before, haven't you?" To that she replied, "Who is Jack London?" It was at that point that I decided we would be reading The Call of the Wild by Jack London next, despite its present location on the district's seventh grade reading list (where it has been replaced by more Common Core friendly shorter texts as part of a prescribed curriculum).

Fortunately, I have a level of  flexibility as I am working from a curriculum that is more rigorous than the Common Core (College Board approved and all that) so I can detour slightly to insure students have read authors it's difficult to understand them graduating from high school without even a passing familiarity.

View from the road. (7/12/14)

Despite it having ended over three-and-a-half months ago, my summer trip to California is the photographic gift that continues to keep on giving. While driving home the day of "the London conversation," I recalled that my friend Jerry and I had visited a London-centric locale on my last day in California this past July. I also realized that pictures had been snapped that I hadn't really taken the time to process (it was the last day of an 8-day trip after all).

Jack London Square is one of Oakland’s most identifiable landmarks and a symbol of the city’s history as a seaport. It is also a popular entertainment and business destination on the waterfront of Oakland, California. It is named after hometown author Jack London, and is owned by the Port of Oakland. It was also our last stop before heading to the airport for my flight back East. Like many red-blooded American lads (or at least so I thought), I greatly enjoyed the Yukon adventures as a youth, so visiting the reconstruction of Jack London's Klondike Hut in Jack London Square was something of a thrill. Simple and unassuming, it was pretty neat to get a sense of the small scope from which such great adventures flowed.

Reconstruction of Jack London's Klondike Hut in Jack London Square. (7/12/14)

John Griffith "Jack" London (born John Griffith Chaney, January 12, 1876–November 22, 1916) was born to Flora Wellman in San Francisco. Though he was raised in Oakland, and is a "Favorite Son," I'd never really associated London with California. Unlike John Steinbeck (though not quite a favorite son while alive, but the possibility of tourist dollars heals all wounds), I've always envisioned London in more frigid surroundings,  That is more a tribute to his writing and my imagination than fact, but that's how my mind always saw it.

These conflicting (mis)perceptions were made concrete by the presence of London's relocated Klondike hut on the beautiful Oakland waterfront. Creating an interesting dichotomy of visuals, the original cabin Jack London lived in in the Klondike, now rests on the California Waterfront amid palm trees. Certainly learning how to start a fire would not be nearly as life-saving as one might think in this environment...

Plaque directly outside the Klondike hut. (7/12/14)

A replica of Jack London's Klondike hut. (7/12/14)

Klondike hut, rear view. (7/12/14)

Bronze White Fang statue by Cedric Wentworth. (7/12/14)

Your's truly with White Fang. (7/12/14)

Heinold’s First and Last Chance Saloon is a historic bar in Jack London Square. It opened in 1883 in a building made from pieces of an old whaling ship. The floor is sharply tilted, resulting from pilings underneath shifting in the 1906 earthquake. During the 1920s, Alameda was a dry town. The Alameda ferry was nearby, making the bar a traveler’s last chance for a drink when going to Alameda (and first when vice-versa), it was renamed from J.M. Heinold’s Saloon. Though I attempted to get some pictures inside, poor lighting (and a weak photographer) hampered their being worthy of posting.

As a schoolboy in the late 1800s, Jack London studied at Heinold’s. Jack confided in owner John Heinold about his ambition to attend the University of California. Heinold loaned him tuition money, but Jack only lasted a year at university. He later returned to Heinold’s where he wrote his notes for The Sea Wolf and Call of the Wild. Heinold’s is referenced 17 times in John Barleycorn.

Heinold's First and Last Chance Saloon. (7/12/14)

Heinold's First and Last Chance Saloon, front view. (7/12/14)

Bronze statue of Jack London created by artist Cedric Wentworth.(7/12/14)

Quite a few contemporary art pieces also liven up 
Jack London Square. (7/12/14)

Sources:
Oakland Wiki
Official Jack London Square Site

Summer Reading: Trout Fishing in America

"The old drunk told me about trout fishing. When he could talk, he had a way of describing trout as if they were a precious and intelligent metal.” ―Richard Brautigan, Trout Fishing In America

Despite having read Trout Fishing in America nearly four times since I originally purchased it as part of a Richard Brautigan anthology (along with The Pill Versus the Springhill Mine Disaster and In Watermelon Sugar) wa-a-a-a-ay in 1990, I have yet to have taken an actual trout fishing expedition along any of the rivers or creeks mentioned in Brautigan's book, I reckon I have been trout fishing my whole life. Or maybe not. Richard Brautigan's Trout Fishing in America, originally published in 1967, is not a book about fishing. Or, maybe it is.

Extremely figurative and abstract in its narrative, TFiA is a novella consisting of a series of loosely connected anecdotes that is best experienced rather than summarized. In the interest of prompting others to read it, however, I will offer the brief synopsis offered by Wikipedia: "The phrase 'Trout Fishing in America' is used in various ways: it is the title of the book, a character, a hotel, the act of fishing itself, a modifier (one character is named 'Trout Fishing in America Shorty'), etc. Brautigan uses the theme of trout fishing as a point of departure for thinly veiled and often comical critiques of mainstream American society and culture."

Perhaps my own desire to occasionally re-engage TFiA is because it cannot be quickly recounted in a short Sparknotes entry or quickly compiled bullet-points. Employing language and structure reminiscent the prose poems of Charles Baudelaire or Robert Bly, Brautigan explores the internal and external cultural landscapes of the West. The cover, with support from the descriptive "chapters" explaining its inclusion within, grounds it in Sixties San Francisco though the inspiration is from other distant locales. The typography and physical structure of the novel (as is the case with most "Brautigans") carries a level of meaning. Employing a specific font, a quality which is not updated or altered with subsequent publishing--further suggesting a purposeful intent for its use by the author--lends a somewhat "antiquated" feeling to the proceedings therein.

While not an easy read, Brautigan's ability to connect well-turned and evocative phrases rewards the reader by bringing the reader on an alternately satirical and personal journey through his America. If the whole piece is not your cup of tea, especially on first blush, I would recommend sampling a few of the more clearly related chapters as individual anecdotes, in particular, the cumulative tale of the "legless, screaming, middle-aged wino" Trout Fishing in America Shorty, who is central to "The Shipping of Trout Fishing in America Shorty to Nelson Algren" (pp.45-7), "Footnote to 'The Shipping of Trout Fishing in America Shorty to Nelson Algren'" (page 63), and "The Last Mention of Trout Fishing in America Shorty" (pp. 96-7).

A unique reading experience, Richard Brautigan's Trout Fishing in America is available for borrowing as part of the larger anthology at most quality libraries.

Entertainment Archetypes

From page 47 of the November 8, 2013 issue of Entertainment Weekly.

It seems as though this year I have had literary archetypes on the brain.

This all started when reviewing potential titles for reading in AP 12 English this year (my first time with the course). To make the analysis of each piece more manageable for both myself and my students, I'll often look for some "connective tissue" between works that can be used as a gateway to deeper analysis. Given some of the potential titles (Beowulf, Frankenstein, The Hobbit, Macbeth, The Canterbury Tales), a the potential for using basic character and thematic archetypes beginning with Seamus Heaney's Beowulf and moving toward a deeper consideration of the Heroic Journey (with significant help from Joseph Campbell, naturally) with The Hobbit seemed a natural, if obvious, direction to go in.

While sitting at the doctor's office last week, I was pleased to come across some more modern examples of preliminary literary archetype analysis in a relatively recent issue of Entertainment Weekly. Not surprisingly, the cinematic Sauron (the big bad from The Lord of the Rings Trilogy that follows Tolkien's The Hobbit) makes an appearance.The brief grid also opens the possibility for legitimately sharing Toy Story 3 (courtesy of literary character Cathy Ames cinematic  ancestor Lotso) during a future flex class (just kidding... kind of)!

Gaming Retro Review: Beowulf (2007)

This is my first year teaching twelfth grade literature and as such my first pass through a number of selections as a teacher, rather than for purely entertainment purposes. I am so pleased to write that much of the literature I've reread has been both educational and entertaining, something which does not always seem to be the case. First up was the classic epic poem Beowulf.

Using the popular Seamus Heaney translation as the source document for our analysis was a plus, given its accessibility to the modern reader. One other unusual benefit was the both the fairly recent 2007 Beowulf film adaptation and the recent success of A Game of Thrones television show, both providing some initial context.

Just as Ecgtheow beget Beowulf, so did the film adaptation, directed by Robert Zemeckis (Forest Gump, Cast Away), beget a video game for the most popular gaming consoles of the time, including the XBOX 360. Both the movie and video game received generally poor reviews (and neither has characterization that--for my tastes--reflect that offered in Heaney's, or nay, translation), but this fact hasn't stopped many an English teacher from showing clips of the beautifully rendered Heorot Hall and Hrothgar's kingdom to assist in establishing the poem's setting for students.

The overall quality of the game, a used copy of which I purchased for $4.99 at a local video game store, is really not that open to debate, certainly not in the eyes of the market--it was much derided and inspired little support from gamers. Those students of mine who recall having received it at the tender age of ten years-old hold no fond memories of it, telling me simply, "it sucked." This did not stop me, however, from giving it a look-see to judge what, if anything, it brought to the "original" story, much as Zemeckis'  film played with quite a few accepted plot points. As well as altering enough of the character dynamics to make my showing it in class (beyond the ten minutes at the start), unnecessary and even counter-productive to an analysis of the themes and archetypes.

Beowulf: The Game's "chant challenges" are unique,
though ultimately frustrating.

Despite a fair degree of clunky game play which made even the most basic level of difficulty frustrating, to the game designer Ubisoft's credit, there is an attempt to utilize the full spectrum of X-BOX 360's controllers in a number of unique ways, most notably to "chant challenges" which require punching in long and short "tones" in rapid succession to prompt characters to a variety of actions such as moving barriers or rowing galleys.

Just as the movie fleshed out elements of the story in the interest of shaping the narrative to modern sensibilities, The Game takes advantage of the additional time to fill in spaces in certain key character relationships rather than simply retelling the story as paced in the the movie. In the game, Breca becomes much more of a foil early on and the challenges he and Beowulf face together increase. (Unfortunately, the actualization of these challenges--"giant" sand crabs the size of small dogs?--does reduce the sense of danger inherent in the the opposition.)

You are Beowulf!

There are also small cosmetic changes to the characters designs as presented in the film The Game was released to support. For example, Beowulf is now clothed while battling Grendel: a concession that would seem to have been made to allow for a broader potential market, though the increased amount of pixellated blood drawn from each sword slash would seem to be counter intuitive to that purpose. Many of Beowulf's "kills" are brutal (in the movie and game), and The Game earns it's M Rating based on those merits alone... which begs the question: why change that aspect of the game except that it might be more marketable to play as a murdering savage warrior who is fully clothed.

Much of my appreciation of Beowulf: The Game comes from both the cost incurred for the copy I bought ($4.99) and my interest in comparing and contrasting filmmaker Zemeckis's extended vision for the character with that of Heaney. Had I plopped down $50, seven years ago, my venom toward the game might be equal to that of reviewers of the day. Now, year's removed from the hype, and neck deep in analysis and class discussion, I can think of many more wasteful ways to drop a few dollars and wile away a few hours, than Beowulf: The Game.

Read It: Breath of Bones

The calm before the storm in Breathe of Bones #1.

Responding to a prompt about revenge in class this past week (an activity for thematic background building during our study of Beowulf/Grendel's mother section of the epic poem), a student inquired as to the spelling of a character's name from Tolkien's Lord of the Rings trilogy: "Is Gollum spelled G-O-L-E-M?" This incorrect spelling of the ring-thirsty Sméagol prompted me to ask if anyone in the class knew what a golem (G-O-L-E-M) was.

Though familiar with "Gollum", not a single student had heard of a "golem" before. Simply put (thanks to Wikipedia) "In Jewish folklore, a golem is an animated anthropomorphic being, created entirely from inanimate matter. There are many tales differing on how the Golem was brought to life and afterwards controlled." Like much of the smaller pieces of information I have trapped in my skull, the kernel of my own basic understanding of a golem was planted by my having read both books about monsters and things-that-go-bump-in-the-night as a child and from a healthy dose of comic books. Very recently there was a Dark Horse comics three issue mini-series that portrayed a fairly realistic depiction of that same creature, Breath of Bones: A Tale of the Golem.

Written by horror star Steve Niles (perhaps most well-known for creating 30 Days of Night to non-fanboys) and beautifully illustrated in blacks, whites and grays by Dave Wachter, when released, Breath of Bones came in under my comic book radar. I have made the mistake before of missing less heralded mini-series, and later being unable to catch up with them in single issues. Fortunately on this occasion, thanks to my local comic shop and a quick read of numerous glowing reviews, I was able to correct my error early on in the three issue run.

With the Nazi's closing in, grandpa and the townspeople get to work in Breath of Bones #2.

One could easily make the inaccurate assumption that Breathe of Bones is a rock'em sock'em historical super hero comic book, especially based on the beautiful covers to each of the three issues. While there is a tremendous amount of action therein, the slow burn toward the creature's reveal and origin suggests a classic monster movie. In a nutshell, from Dark Horse's own website, Breath of Bones is the story of a "giant clay monster from Jewish legend... on a Nazi-killing rampage in order to protect the inhabitants of a small Jewish stronghold and an injured British pilot." It is also a story of loss, both personal and that of innocence, sacrifice, and honor set against the back drop of World War II. Breathe of Bones is also a story about the power of storytelling, tradition, belief and family. Best of all is that there are Nazi's being pounded into submission by a monster...

From Breath of Bones #3.

Breath of Bones is a miniseries that inspires me to continue to promote the value of the genre as a viable and engaging (and teachable) text. Yes, while occasionally some works, most notably Art Spiegelman's Maus, reach a level of acceptability becoming "canon" of sorts, lesser known titles with content such as Breath of Bones would seem to be natural gateways to discussion in a variety of academic disciplines. Until then, I strongly recommend picking up the title either in individual issues (as is my collection mode of choice), trade paperback, or in the more recent beautifully executed hardcover edition. Unlikely to be read only once (or thrice) and relegated to your longbox or bookshelf, Breath of Bones is a title which bears repeated readings.

Can Kipling Sell Video Games?

As the creeper that girdles the tree trunk, the law runneth forward and back;
For the strength of the pack is the wolf, and the strength of the wolf is the pack.

While watching some video clips on Youtube recently, I came across a commerical for an upcoming video game release, Destiny. My stepson, an avid Halo fan, had mentioned this game to me previously, but as a non-Halo player myself, it held little interest.

This commerical has me curious, but not to play the game as much as to consider the poem being used by the production to promote the game. In this short clip, Giancarlo Esposito (most recently seen as Gus Fring on AMC's Breaking Bad, reciting some select lines from "The Law for the Wolves," commonly referred to as "The Law of the Jungle" due to its source, Rudyard Kipling's novel The Second Jungle Book.

In the original Jungle Book, Kipling sets forth an actual set of legal codes used by wolves and other animals in the jungles of India. It is in the Chapter Two of The Second Jungle Book, that Kipling provides a poem, featuring the Law of the Jungle as known to the Wolves, and as taught to their cubs. As an English teacher, I have on occassion used this poem as an example of a personal code of ethics set forth in literature, eventually inviting students to translate and update the tenants set forth in a more human (and modern) context.


Given the videgame pedigree of Destiny, there is little doubt that it will make money, and even less doubt that the link to Kipling will not be seen as a determining factor in its overall success. It is, however, interesting to see traditional "classic" literature (and British Lit, no less!) seep into the world of advertising. The visual translation of Kipling's "The Law for the Wolves" into such futuristic and accessible (to younger consumers) is a tremendous reminder of classic literature's ongoing relevance when presented in interesting and unique contexts.

"The Law for the Wolves" in its entirety is available for reading (and sharing) at here.

Sources:
"The Law of the Jungle" entry on Wikipedia.

American Sentences Redux

Two examples shaped from my own freewriting in class.

Following our recent work with the traditional 5-7-5 haiku format (albeit with subject matter that was more reminiscent of a senryu), I decided to continue an exploration of compressed language forms by introducing my AP classes to a new, less well-known play on the 17 syllable poetic form, the American Sentence. A truly Western take on the Eastern haiku, this form originated by late Beat poet Allen Ginsberg.


"Publishing" student work from class chart paper drafts.

Ginsberg saw haiku, and the American sentence, as a means of compressing poetry to get "Maximum information" with "minimum number of syllables.” This compressed form allowed for the possibility that Ginsberg's notion that poets are people who notice what they notice could be accessible to everyone.

Though some of my students struggled with writing "good" haiku, I'm hoping that the more concrete, urban bent of the American Sentence will make for more lively, dynamic drafts. I have taught this form for nearly three years now with what I have felt have been pretty good results. The move from haiku to American sentence is a natural one. While still adhering to the 17 syllable standard of the traditional haiku, the imagery included in the American sentence is presented in a linear fashion reflective of the left-to-right reading of English as opposed to the top-to-bottom approach in Japanese haiku.

The process of crafting American sentence is one that lends itself to the existing management activities in my classroom. Students know to pick up their writing journals each day upon entering the classroom. Before even revealing the form, I ask them to freewrite about the lends itself easily to classroom writing process, beginning with a free write. This will give the writer the "clay" with which to shape their lines. The prompt is straightforward: In the next 6 minutes, relax, observe and capture via free write personal sense-based observations about the world around you (our classroom). Use as descriptive a language as you are capable. While it is not incumbent on you to use figurative language strategies, you may find that they come to you—write them down.

Following this journaling exercise, I introduced the class to the form more, well, formally. Based on my own research,  I suggested to the class that an exemplary product would include at least one of the following:

After sharing my own freewrite notes, and modelling the culling of a few possible images for further development into "popping" American sentences, I share the following quick-and-easy process for crafting their own:

As a ways of making the form more collaborative, I asked students to contribute to a chain of lines, by first writing two American Sentences, then selecting the one they felt best met the criteria (evocative, imagisitc, approximately 17 syllables in length). This activity was completed for each of my three Advanced Placement Language and Composition courses, resulting in three community  poems of 20+ lines apiece.

After sharing our class collaborative American Sentence Chain, I task each student with taking the activity home to their friends and families. Students were assigned to both explain this unique poetic form to their victims volunteers and facilitate each person's development of a unique, personal American sentence. The final 17 syllable (fingers-crossed) sentence,  was to then be added to the student's own American sentence chain.

Of course, if the syllable count varies slightly, that's "all good." The American sentence was the result of Ginsberg believing that haiku in the Western tradition placed too much emphasis on counting (syllables), at the expense of developing image. The goal, as with a haiku, is to communicate and image, and if you're luck (or good) evoke a response in the reader.

Poem in Your Pocket Day(s) Activity

Official National Poetry
Month 2013 poster.

April is nearly half over and I am just now finding time to fully support National Poetry Month (NPM) in the way I had hoped. Despite being busy with piloting lessons designed to address the new Common Core Learning Standards, which seemingly suggests a heavier reliance on non-fiction in school English classes, I have been looking for the chance to devote some instructional time to poetry experiences. Fortunately for my students and I, our school's Library/Media Specialist has done a nice job following through on a few building wide activities from years past such as the reading of poems by different students each morning during announcements and scheduling our semi-annual Poetry Reading next week.

Beyond analyzing poems such as "To a Mouse" by Robert Burns, "A Dream Deferred" by Langston Hughes, and "Sonnet X" by John Donne, all which have thematic ties to traditionally taught novels (Of Mice and Men, A Raisin in the Sun by Lorraine Hansberry,  and Death Be Not Proud by John Gunther, respectively), my colleagues and I do our best to infuse the curriculum with poetry. It is why many of us got into the business: a love a literature we wish to share. Given this, to me, it only makes sense that the poetry activity I use for NPM  promotes the sharing of student selected poetry with other members of our learning community.

The CCLS does include language which continues to supports the inclusion of poetry in hgihs chool curriculum. For example, one could fairly see this Pocket Poem activity of researching, selecting and sharing as meeting the Reading Standard 11.1 (Grades 11–12):

Interpret, analyze, and evaluate narratives, poetry, and drama, aesthetically and philosophically by making connections to: other texts, ideas, cultural perspectives, eras, personal events, and situations.

The subordinate Key Ideas get at the specifics even more, especially 11.1a.: "Self-select text to respond and develop innovative perspectives."

The task introduced.

Now that I have a level of alignment with the CCLS, over the next week, I will be assigning all of my English students to complete a slightly adjusted Poem in Your Pocket Day activity. I initially had planned the project for use in my Advanced Placement classes (primarily because I hope it will be something of a reprieve from preparation for May's assessments), my Regents level courses will also be participating. Though Thursday, April 18 is "officially" Poem in Your Pocket Day, our celebration will be stretched over the weekend following so that due dates will be between April 22-23.

I introduced the activity to the first class participating Friday morning, and will continue doing so today. The activity is a familiar take on the common "pick a favorite poem" task. The most significant change in the spirit of Poem in Your Pocket Day, is that the extensions of the task emphasis beyond the selection of a single poem. The sharing of a self-selected poem with a number of people from our shared learning community is where the real "work" is. As I explained to my students, it has been my experiencing that the act of sharing a poem is generally seen by the recipient as an invitation to conversation, even by those who  either "dislike" poetry or with who may never had experienced an authentic conversation around it.



Melancholy? Yes. A theme high
schoolers can relate to? YES!

The activity's introduction was prefaced by my own sharing of a poem with the class, "Dolor" by Theodore Roethke. As I explained to them after sharing it, "Dolor" was first given to me as a college assignment by a professor who was aware of my intention to teach. Of course, it was only years later that I saw the implications of the poem's theme on what would become my career.

Students will document their interactions with those who they are sharing with through one of two ways: having the recipients sign a copy of the poem or having a digital photo taken with all three "members" of the exchange (student, recipient and poem) in the frame. My hope is that despite a common task, the variation in poems selected, as well as methods of documentation will reduce "the dropping of fine film" which can result in dispassionate "duplicate grey standard faces" some activities can unwittingly produce.

But, therein lies the real challenge of teaching and the value of poetry in schools!

More Classics Mash-up Fun!

Variant cover byEarl Norem.

While imitation may be the sincerest form of flattery, in the media world (including comic books), it must also have some sort of financial return.

Given this, I am glad to see the second in what I hope is a growing trend of Classics Illustrated homages in mainstream comic book publishing. This mini-movement first found its way onto my radar (and pull list) in February with the release of Marvel's Deadpool Killustrated. Written by Cullen Bunn (creator and writer of Oni Press' fantastic horror-fantasy-western Sixth Gun), Deadpool Killustrated held, for me anyway, an added layer of meta-coolness due to its unusual connection to the book my classes and I were reading at the time, Into the Wild by Jon Krakauer.

This morning, while checking my twitter feed for inetsring info tidbits, I noted that independent publisher IDW's June 2013 solicitations revealed another mash-up play on the Classics Illustrated format, Mars Attacks Classics Obliterated. Featuring a superior creative lineup including Phil Hester, John McCrea and Kelley Jones, this book promises hijinks that put our favorite 1960's Topps trading card Martians into direct conflict with literary heavyweights Moby Dick, Robinson Crusoe and others.

Mars Attacks Classics Obliterated, with an expected in-store release date of  6/5/13, will be 48 page in length and a carry a pricetag of $7.99.

Into the Wilds of Deadpool Killustrated

Deadpool meets Moby Dick in Marvel Comics Deadpool Killustarted #1 written by Cullen Bunn
with art from penciller Matteo Lolli and inker Sean Parsons.

Finally got around to reading the long awaited (by me anyway) first issue of Cullen Bunn's most recent Marvel mini-series, Deadpool Killustrated. One of the few cape comic books with which it is easy to appreciate the complete lack of (and disregard for) the character's larger continuity, the real draw here was the writer, who's fantastic series The Sixth Gun, published monthly by Oni Press, has been a personal favorite since it's start, and the premise made clear in the first issue's cover: "Butchering Stories from Literature's Finest Authors!" The concept of revisiting classic American literary classics such as Moby-Dick and Tom Sawyer through the lens of Marvel Comics "Merc with a Mouth" is an appealing one.

What I had really looked forward to were the literary Easter eggs that I imagined the literate Bunn would include in a world full of such possibilties. What I was pleasantly surprised with was the relevance of some of them to a book I had recently begun sharing with my eleventh grade students.

Tolstoy: not from his short story "Family Happiness", but Anna Karenina,
though the quote seems applicable to both stories... and Into the Wild.

Last week in class we began working with Jon Krakauer's Into the Wild. As part of our study of the novel's composition and structure, I took some time to write some brief author bios to enhance for the student Krakauer's meaningful inclusion of epigrams, excerpts and artifacts at the start of each chapter. With the premise that each was included by the author to add an additional level of meaning to the content which followed, my thinking was that to make the student (who likely had had little previous experience with the "contributors") more familiar with each excerpts "source" (either an author's background or their previously published product) would make their understanding of protagonist Chris McCandless, and to a lesser extent author Krakauer's, story clearer.

Two of these turned up in Deadpool Killusrated: directly,  Melville's Moby-Dick, and more indirectly, Leo Tolstoy's "Family Happiness."

The narrative text of Chapter 3 of Krakauer's Into the Wild is prefaced with a passage highlighted by Chris from Leo Tolstoy's short story. Given the similarities between the theme of "Family Happiness," published in 1859, and the line from Anna Karenina, first published later in installments from 1873-1877, then ultimately as a formal "novel" in 1878, read by Deadpool above it is fair to say there may very well be a connection (albeit of the six degrees sort) between Tolstoy's story and Bunn's use of the pages in Deadpool Killustrated. Okay, that is a reach...

Chapter 5 of Into the Wild is introduced by graffiti found inside the abandoned bus on Stampede Trail where Chris McCandless' body was found, which reads in part "All Hail the Dominant Primordial Beast! And Captain Ahab, too!" (38). In my Teacher Footnotes to students as part of their pre-reading I informed them that "Captain Ahab was the tyrannical captain of the Pequod in Herman Melville's 1851 novel Moby-Dick; he is driven by a monomaniacal desire to kill Moby Dick, the whale that had maimed him off the coast of Japan."

The preview for the second issue of Deadpool Killustarted promises a meeting between the Merc with a Mouth and Mark Twain's Tom Sawyer. Of Course, Twain's The advcnures of Tom sawyer introduced the world to Huckleberry Finn, whose own adventures are also excerpted prior to Chapter 7 of Into the Wild... the mind reels at the possibilities!