Poetry doesn't yield up at first hearing especially in EFL classes and with difficult texts.
As teachers let us consider the major obstacles that an EFL student reader of poetry would face and let us provide possible points of access to the text of the poem.
It is difficult to familiarise with the text of a poem by simply reading it and attempting to grasp its structure and absorb its concepts. In most cases the EFL student reader is guided by a number of pre-reading activities which require little active involvement.
Only a clear understanding of what the poem means enables reader-writer interaction. Lack of language competence and/or prior experiential knowledge may obscure the essential meaning of the text.
Which possible points of access to the text of the poem can we provide in the pre-reading phase?
If the poem is accessed through another code, the chance is that interpretation is facilitated.
We need to bring the poem to mundane level, translating into a more familiar code what is difficult as a poem.
We need to start, therefore, from a well known code A which by nature enables the student reader to engage with the text in a creative way in order to develop a personal interpretation.
Image seems to suit our purpose.
How does Poetry in Image practically work?
Divide the text into its three main parts bearing in mind the opening lines as follows:
Part 1: There was movement at the station , for the word has passed around;
Part 2: So he went; they found the horses by the big mimosa clump;
Part 3: And down by Kosciusko, where the pine-clad ridges raise
View the film, choose the 3 segments which clearly illustrate the meaning of the three parts of the poem. The segments are:
( video length: approx. 15 minutes)
1. Ask students to expand on the set of words or expressions they have noted down so as to build a few sentences. Remind them that they should think of how the original text is actually written to set them a reference model.
1. Get students to combine the sentences to create mini-texts on the images they've viewed. Tell them not to bother about poetical rules and other literary constraints if they feel frustrated about the idea. Prose will do too!
Imagination, motivation and expectation are activated;
Here is an actual sample text created by one of my students
He'll dig his own grave
Because he's too brave
But he's lonely enough
To dare to be so tough
With courage he's heading his crowd
To be an Australian he is proud.
The concepts are there , the literary style is simple but present and personal response has been provided.
Stage 3: Introduce
Consider lifestyle and language
- Elicit infomation on the type of life and language present in the text to raise intercultural awareness:
In which country does the event take place? Why do you think so? What seems unusual to
you in the setting? What type of people are the characters? How do they live? How do they
speak?
- Set up literary expectations :
What type of poem will you expect to read : a sonnet, a ballad or else?
How will the language in the poem be: figurative, complex, popular?
Will it be long or short?
How would you divide the poem according to its meaning?
Paraphrase the opening lines of the original poem
- Ask students to write the opening lines of the poem in their own words. It's interesting to
notice how the different words proposed all lead to the same meaning!
Add title to poem
- Ask students to guess the title of the poem:
some expected outcomes : The Man and the Horse - Wilderness - The Country Chase;
- Present the $10 note with a cartoon balloon containing the opening lines of the poem: "There was movement at the station, for the word had passed around That the colt from old Regret had got away…" . Students compare the beginning of the poem with their personal opening lines. Then invite them to infer who the man stating the words may be (the narrator, the main character, the poet);
- Invite students to share the initial sentence they would have placed on the $10 note and to focus on the opening lines of the poem found on the note. Discuss the presence of other image of the bushman.
- Image stimulates the EFL student reader to organise and master a command of different
levels of language. It allows creative personal EFL involvement;
- Intercultural enrichment is assured;
- Students have fun relating language and literature learning to valuable authentic material .
Hints
- Try Poetry in Image with a number of other literary works adapted to the screen (and there are quite a few!) following the same process. You'll be amazed of their attitude to literature and of their developing imaginative ability!
- Collect the creative literary works in a "class anthology" to be placed next to the "official" collection. Students feel proud to be active creative writers!
Conclusion
The value of focussing in a more effective way on the pre-reading phase triggers a lot of thinking and effective language work which we normally carry out in the post-reading stage when the EFL student reader's motivation has been lowered and when the pleasure of poetry reading has almost vanished after the struggle of tackling the literal and figurative use of the language.
Why Poetry in Image?
No | I | nitial poetry reading problems |
High | M | otivation |
| A | ctivates language organisation skills |
| G | enerates creative reader response |
| E | xploits new links between literature
and language learning |
Appendix 1
The Man from Snowy River
There was movement at the station, for the word had passed around
That the colt from old Regret had got away,
And had joined the wild bush horses – he was worth a thousand pound,
So all the cracks had gathered to the fray.
All the tried and noted riders from the stations near and far
Had mustered at the homestead overnight,
For the bushmen love hard riding where the wild bush horses are,
And the stock-horse snuffs the battle with delight.
There was Harrison, who made his pile when Pardon won the cup,
The old man with his hair as white as snow;
But few could ride beside him when his blood was fairly up –
He would go wherever horse and man could go.
And Clancy of the Overflow came down to lend a hand,
No better horsemen ever held the reins;
For never horse could throw him while the saddle-girths would stand –
He learnt to ride while droving on the plains.
And one was there, a stripling on a small and weedy beast;
He was something like a racehorse undersized,
With a touch of Timor pony – three parts thoroughbred at least –
And such as are by mountain horsemen prized.
He was hard and tough and wiry – just the sort that won't say die –
There was courage in his quick impatient tread;
And he bore the badge of gameness in his bright and fiery eye,
And the proud and lofty carriage of his head.
But still so slight and weedy, one would doubt his power to stay,
And the old man said, "That horse will never do
For a long and tiring gallop – lad, you'd better stop away,
Those hills are far too rough for such as you."
So he waited, sad and wistful – only Clancy stood his friend –
"l think we ought to let him come," he said;
"l warrant he'll be with us when he's wanted at the end,
For both his horse and he are mountain bred.
"He hails from Snowy River, up by Kosciusko's side,
Where the hills are twice as steep and twice as rough;
Where a horse's hoofs strike firelight from the flint stones every stride,
The man that holds his own is good enough.
And the Snowy River riders on the mountains make their home,
Where the river runs those giant hills between;
l have seen full many horsemen since l first commenced to roam,
But nowhere yet such horsemen have l seen."
So he went; they found the horses by the big mimosa clump,
They raced away towards the mountain's brow,
And the old man gave his orders, "Boys, go at them from the jump,
No use to try for fancy riding now.
And, Clancy, you must wheel them, try and wheel them to the right.
Ride boldly, lad, and never fear the spills,
For never yet was rider that could keep the mob in sight,
If once they gain the shelter of those hills."
So Clancy rode to wheel them – he was racing on the wing
Where the best and boldest riders take their place,
And he raced his stock-horse past them, and he made the ranges ring
With the stock-whip, as he met them face to face.
Then they halted for a moment, while he swung the dreaded lash,
But they saw their well-loved mountain full in view,
And they charged beneath the stock-whip with a sharp and sudden dash,
And off into the mountain scrub they flew.
Then fast the horsemen followed, where the gorges deep and black
Resounded to the thunder of their tread,
And the stock-whips woke the echoes, and were fiercely answered back
From cliffs and crags that beetled overhead.
And upward, ever upward, the wild horses held their way,
Where mountain ash and kurrajong grew wide;
And the old man muttered fiercely, "We may bid the mob good-day,
No man can hold them down the other side."
When they reached the mountain's summit, even Clancy took a pull –
It well might make the boldest hold their breath;
The wild hop scrub grew thickly, and the hidden ground was full
Of wombat holes, and any slip was death.
But the man from Snowy River let the pony have his head,
And he swung his stock-whip round and gave a cheer,
And he raced him down the mountain like a torrent down its bed,
While the others stood and watched in very fear.
He sent the flint-stones flying, but the pony kept his feet,
He cleared the fallen timber in his stride,
And the man from Snowy River never shifted in his seat –
It was grand to see that mountain horseman ride.
Through the stringy barks and saplings, on the rough and broken ground,
Down the hillside at a racing pace he went;
And he never drew the bridle till he landed safe and sound
At the bottom of that terrible descent.
He was right among the horses as he climbed the further hill,
And the watchers on the mountain, standing mute,
Saw him ply the stock-whip fierecely; he was right among them still,
As he raced across the clearing in pursuit.
Then they lost him for a moment, where two mountain gullies met
In the ranges – but a final glimpse reveals
On a dim and distant hillside the wild horses racing yet,
With the man from Snowy River at their heels.
And he ran them single-handed till their sides were white with foam;
He followed like a bloodhound on their track,
Till they halted, cowed and beaten; then he turned their heads for home,
And alone and unassisted brought them back.
But his hardy mountain pony he could scarely raise a trot,
He was blood from hip to shoulder from the spur;
But his pluck was still undaunted, and his courage fiery hot,
For never yet was mountain horse a cur.
And down by Kosciusko, where the pine-clad ridges raise
Their torn and rugged battlements on high,
Where the air is clear as crystal, and the white stars fairly blaze
At midnight in the cold and frosty sky,
And where around the Overflow the reed-beds sweep and sway
To the breezes, and the rolling plains are wide,
The Man from Snowy River is a household word today,
And the stockmen tell the story of his ride.
Copyright ÿ 26 April 1890, Andrew Barton (Banjo) Paterson