The other day over at Bluebird Blvd we were asked the question ‘what was the first poem you remember reading?’
Wodonga and Towong Sentinel 11 Apr 1947 http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article69594057
I was one of those children whose best friends were books. I learned to read at a very young age, and because of that, I suspect the books I read were mostly far too old for me. Yeah Jaws, I’m talking to you.
It didn’t matter though, words were as important as air. I read everything that passed before my eyes, and still do. Even if I didn’t understand their meaning, the words were right there, waiting to be read and, so, I read them.
The first poems I remember reading are those of Lewis Carroll. He wrote the kind of poetry that appealed to a child like me.
Take ‘The Walrus and the Carpenter’ for example;
But four young Oysters hurried up,
All eager for the treat:
Their coats were brushed, their faces washed,
Their shoes were clean and neat–
And this was odd, because, you know,
They hadn’t any feet.
Wonderful! I could just imagine oysters sprouting feet, eager for a walk with their new friends. Oysters clearly have no need for either shoes or faces, and that made it even more amusing to me.
The miserable Mock Turtle and his Lobster Quadrille;
“Will you walk a little faster?” said a whiting to a snail.
“Theres a porpoise close behind us, and he’s treading on my tail.”
I loved them all, even though I felt a little sorry for the pig-baby;
Speak roughly to your little boy,
And beat him when he sneezes:
He only does it to annoy,
Because he knows it teases.
My favourite however, and one I remember falling immediately in love with was the Jabberwocky.
Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome-raths outgrabe.
.
“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!”
He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought –
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.
And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
“And, has thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!’
He chortled in his joy.
.
`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
I was young. Who was I to know that those words were not all dictionary-worthy? I didn’t know exactly what a Tove was, but they were slithy, and the borogoves were mimsy. It all seemed pretty clear to me.
Recently I found, in wikipedia, an interpretation of those wonderful words. I was a little apprehensive about reading the real meanings and comparing them to what I though the words had meant. Maybe knowing what he was really talking about would ruin my Jabberwocky love!
I couldn’t resist, and, taking a deep breath, prepared to have my childish love crushed by the truth.
To me slithy was always a slithery, slimy thing, and mimsy was miserable. Galumphing was easy, Mum often told me to stop galloping around the house, it just had to be the same. Uffish was probably how you felt after you had gone off in a huff, tick!
Brillig seemed to be when the setting sun shone brightly in the sky, it turned out to be about 4pm, the time for broiling dinner. Close! Gyre and gimble just had to be leaping about in circles nimbly. Gyre was right, but to gimble was to make holes in the ground. Oh well…
Even though I was wrong on some of the meanings it didn’t make me feel any differently about it. Jabberwocky was a poem you read with your feelings, not your brain. I still love it, and, when I read it now, those meanings I attached to the words as a child are still what I want them to mean.
Over the weekend I read the Jabberwocky to my boys. I am ashamed to say that I haven’t before. I wondered if they would tell me it didn’t make sense, or, like I did, just enjoy it. I got to the end and they were still listening.
‘Hmmm…pretty good’ said number 1.
‘I didn’t hear it all’ said number 2. ‘Can you read it again?’
The Jabberwock, as illustrated by John Tenniel-wikipedia
I did, then asked them what they thought a vorpal sword might be. They are boys, swords are what boys pay most attention to when there are no video games around.
‘Well, a very important sword’ ventured one. ‘A sword with a big jewel in the handle’ said the other.
They didn’t question any of the other words, and I asked them what they thought some of them meant. ‘Well, I don’t know. Obviously they are words, I just don’t know what they mean. It’s weird, I like it’.
Of course, neither of them are the book-loving little girl I was, they were more interested in talking about the picture of the Jabberwocky bearing down on the boy with the vorpal sword. Why am I not surprised…
I will finish with perhaps one of the greatest poetry performances of all time. Jabberwocky as performed by the Muppets. Enjoy…. :)
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OHMAIGAH. So, I loved this piece. I loved that you crossed from your own child understanding of “Jabberwocky” (and other Carroll poems) to asking your own sons what they thought the poem meant.
I love that you looked up the meaning of Carroll’s words and that you were not unpleasantly surprised by the interpretations. And I loved that you included one of the more (if not the most) strange Muppet Show segments I’ve ever seen.
As I was a book-loving girl myownself, I especially loved that you also thought books were your friends. Thank you for writing this, Metan. I’ve been singing your praises all over the ‘net tonight, and it was time for me to sit down, gather my thoughts, and (hopefully) express how appreciative I feel that you wrote this beautiful piece. Thank you so, so much.
Thank you! :) I am really glad you enjoyed it. I am very glad you made me think about it, my love of the Jabberwock is never far away, but I had not thought about the other Carroll poems for an age. It was so nice to have an excuse to catch up with those old friends!
I was so scared when I first found those interpretations, it could have ruined it all for me! So glad it didn’t.
The boys really liked the reading of it, and were thrilled with the Muppet version. No more than I though! As you know I LOVE the Muppets, so to me the combination of the Muppets /and/ the Jabberwock is just heavenly :)
It is funny how many of us quiet book-loving girls there were, we thought we were alone but if we had all banded together we could have taken over the world!!!
Thank you for spreading the post around and thank you very much for your encouragement!
I think you’ve hit upon a really unique angle here, and now I’m beginning to wonder what OTHER fascinating childhood memories you’e got stashed away— about books and art and nature— that book-loving girl world of yours which is still a big part of who you are.
I’m glad The Muppets is one of our shared threads. Honestly, that show still makes me ridiculously happy! And I’m surprised, now, as I’ve been looking back myself at some other Muppet Show clips, at how well they were able to deal with some really interesting ideas. Grown up ideas, even!
I’m really hoping that some of the lovely people I know stop by and read your piece on Carroll’s work. Crossing my fingers!
One more thing— I had the loveliest thought. Even though we quiet book-loving girls didn’t (or couldn’t by dint of distances) band together when we were young, aren’t we taking over the world now? By writing down the world, blog by blog and book by book? And connecting with each other? Maybe I’m being a tad (or a ton) hyperbolic, but it’s a nice thought, yeah?
After Jennifer commented yesterday about also being a book-loving girl I thought the same thing. If only we had the opportunity to contact each other in this way back then! Of course that also means social media and children/teenagers, not always a good combination!
Everything in our lives is influenced by how were were bought up and how we were introduced to concepts either as a child or an adult. Most of us just forget about that though! We think we are only that adult person and forget about that child still tucked away inside. I am happy to say that my child is quite close to the surface. Mostly overridden by the responsible adult I have to be, but she still has quite a say in things :)
I am so glad to find there are other adults out there who also love the Muppets, the more I watch it the more I notice the adult undercurrent that runs through much of it. They were so brilliant in the way they could (and still can) entertain children and adults on both levels at the same time.
I bought the DVD of the new Muppet movie the other day. Although I desperately want to, I haven’t watched it yet, it is hidden away for a day when the kids and I are looking for something to do. I’m so SO happy that they are still bringing out new stuff ;)
what a wonderful mum you are. And I too loved books as a girl :)
Thank you, it is so nice to share things with the kids, especially when they are an appreciative audience! :)
I spent so much of my childhood in my room reading, if only we got that much time to do it now, eh?!
Thanks Metan. I’ve never actually seen the Muppets version of my favourite poem from childhood. Shame on me. I always imagined the borogoves were some kind of swamp. No doubt I associated them with the mangroves or something. I don’t remember ever seeing the picture of the Jabberwocky either before. I assume it was done by Tenniel whom I think used to do Carrol’s illustrations. I do wonder these days if there weren’t a few substances about back then that lent themselves to the odd hallucination, pretty wacky stuff for a vicar. But what the poem lacked in real words it made up for by conjuring up in readers like us vast opportunities to use an imagination so we could hear the sword going snicker-snack without the use of a computer screen or MP3 player.
The thing I love about such wonderful nonsense is that any interpretation that makes you happy is correct anyway. I could totally see that borogoves might be like mangroves, mimsy borogoves/miserable mangroves doesn’t sound too wrong to me!
I’m glad to hear that it was your favourite too, that Tenniel illustration was in my childhood copy of Alice/Looking Glass so it also has a special place in my heart.
I should just quietly slink away around about now because… Lewis Carroll never fired my imagination :/ I was a Peter Pan girl and sooo not into poetry, whimsical or otherwise. Don’t hit me! I’m leaving now….
p.s. I love the Muppet version though – does that count?
That’s ok, I wasn’t really as much a poetry lover as I was a nonsense lover :) I never loved Alice as much as the rest of the characters, I tolerated her in order to get to the rest of the story….
Don’t worry, you can stay. Loving the Muppets will mean you are forgiven a multitude of sins! :)
Thank you, thank you! Always loved the Cheshire Cat too but Alice I just wanted to slap lol.
I’ve known Alice when she was 10 feet tall.
That’s what you get from eating too much cake! Or is that 10 feet wide? ;)
What a lovely image, reading poetry to your kids. That never happened in our house: I’m not sure my parents knew any poetry. When I went off to college I didn’t know who Shakespeare was, or Arthur Miller, or Sylvia Path. And then my brain exploded when I was introduced to metaphor and simile (tenets of poetry). Writing poetry was akin to breathing; I saw and thought about the world in juxstapositions. Of all writing genres I think poetry is the mastery of meaning combined with the harmonies of word sounds: it is the highest form of writing and requires discipline. Why the blathering? I didn’t start writing until I was 19. What might’ve happened if I had a mom like you who’s willing to share her favorite things boldly, unafraid of your kids disinterest. Who knows? This might be the start of a poetry career for one of them (which means, of course, he/she will live at home through their 40’s!)
By the way, clams have feet. Gross, tacky, raw chicken breast in appearance, it’s called a tongue and pulls itself along the lake bottom with it.
I don’t think the kids would have been anywhere as interested in serious poetry as they were amused by the sheer nonsense of the Jabberwock! We do try to expose them to many different things though, even things we are not necessarily interested in ourselves. I think that is the job of a parent, to stuff their brains full of things before they turn into sulky teenagers, and I have found the best way to get them interested is to be heavy on the nonsense! :)
Number 2 (aged 9) is a typical ratbag kid, not interested in reading, loves lego, being a ninja and roughousing with his friends but he also has a love of classical music and a wonderfully diverse vocabulary (I was called a patchy papaya when I tucked him in tonight). Number 1 (aged 11) is a ridiculously well behaved child and academically fantastic whose bedroom is becoming that of a rock god with a drum kit and guitars and an electric guitar as his next request.
There is a good chance that they will both still be living at home when they are 40, poetry career or not!
I am glad to hear that you found the thing you love, you might not have started writing until you were 19, but imagine if life had never steered you towards it? Imagine all those people out there in the world who never find their ‘thing’ and just have to go on without it.
(Now I want to know what shape of shoe best fits a chicken breast-tongue-foot!)
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You might like to read http://bluebirdblvd.net/, she is the first commenter on this post and is a wonderful writer who often shares her poetry with us.
My favourite childhood poem also. Thank you for the rendition! :)
Really glad you liked it, hearing the Jabberwocky still puts a smile on my face to this day :) Of course the Muppets make anything more amusing again!