Thematic collages

In light of the end of the school year, for the Literature class, we had to create in groups of three or in pairs (in my case, with my mate Florencia Torino) literary collages that portrayed the thematic sentences -along a quotation from the book to justify them- of some poems and stories and from the play "An Inspector Calls". These, from "Stories of Ourselves" and "Songs of Ourselves" and the already named play, have been read along the years.

Collage on "The Phoenix"

Collage on "The Lost Woman"

Collage on "Tyres"

Collage on "An Inspector Calls"

Social Casualty.

As regards the Literature subject, we wrote a poem, in my case taking from "The Lost Woman..." by Patricia Beer, the idea of losing someone (in any sense, the pass away of a beloved person, how you lost contact with she/her, maybe how that also made you lose yourself..., etc).

Social Casualty.

My best friend left me on a sunday morning of August, 

under the soft crackle of rain, 

subtle as the indiscernible warning 

of her goodbye.

No tight hugs did I receive,

as those motherly which always reunite your pieces.

I had to conform with a bogus smile

and her jet black eyes, 

the key to her soul, 

locked tenaciously.

She wanted to bury the memory of us.

She escaped from our friendship.

She escaped when she made new friends.

She escaped when she tried to pretend the memory of us 

was like sand in her hands.

I escaped our friendship the moment

books became my only friends,

the traces of authors´ thoughts, 

the only conversations I had.

I escaped when Coldplay´s melodies

became all the stories I listened to.

Nevertheless, my eyes still catch hers,

locked under bars, 

though I can swear sometimes they

shine like stars, 

under the memory of what we used to be.

And whenever I see her

rushingly walking through the school corridors,

as if her legs were not rapid enough, I wish 

we weren´t just a social casualty.

Change.

As regards the Poems part of the Literature subject, we had to write a poem about what we wanted to. Here I share mine:
                                         
                                            Change.

                  I used to believe in the love movies talk about,
                  true love.
                  The one that can stop time, abstractive.
                  I used to see sparks fly when I looked at you,
                  I used to daydream about a lifetime love,
                  the one that made life as soft as a cotton candy.
                  I used to deem about a love that had no bars, bendy.

                  Now that you´re gone, it´s clear as water.
                  Maybe I was gullible, or just a believer,
                  that I could be your remedy,
                  that perhaps I could heal you,
                  or maybe I was just callowly lost in your eyes.
                  I didn´t know how to love, not ready for goodbyes.
                  Maybe it´s me,
                  and my blind optimism to blame.
                  Or maybe it´s you and your sick need
                  to give love and then take it away.

                  Nevertheless, we can´t blame love
                  for the person that left us half alive.
                  As with all, it depends on the person.
                  Or maybe it´s me and my blind optimism,                                                                                               searching for light in everything.
                  Promise I won´t play the naive role again.

                                          
                                   
     
                                         
                                         
                                           
                                         
                                         

"Self-love."

As  regards the "Poems" section of the literature subject, we had to write a poem that followed the themes/structure of the poems read in class this term: "Passion", "Song" and "The clod and the pebble". In my case, I followed the structure from "Passion" that means I wrote of a revelation or change of state.

                                    "Self-love"
                               
               In front of my eyes, stood the truth,
               reminscing it now, it was a certainty always underneath.
               Heartache had now been brought to birth,
               accumulating in my chest as tears bursted, being left no faith.
                         
               I noticed I was sobbing,
               thought it now was as senseless as living.
               Because I was already dead,
               the butterflies previously in my stomach were now in my head,
               confusing me and giving me a sense of faint.
               Of the girl I had been there was now no hint.

               But as light from the sunrise emerged,
               I felt a fire in my soul loomed.
               It was him who decided to leave all behind,
               and I wasn´t going to stay blind.
               I knew about my self-worth,
               if towards it he was loath,
               nothing but his problem was it.
                                 

                                   

                                   
                                   
                                   
                                 
                 

Billenium.

After reading Billenium by J.G Ballard and analysing it in class, we got in pairs and did a presentation which included this analysis. Here I share it with you.

 

Games at twilight.

Concerning the "story" part of the Literature subject, after reading "Games at twilight" from the well-known Indian author Anita Desai, and analysing the story in depth, we had to create a presentation that touched most of the themes worked in class.

 

Blind heart.

As regards the poetry section of the Literature subject, we had to write a poem that in general terms followed the theme of the poems read in class (either "Stabat Mater" narrating how your parents met and fell in love, "Coming home" about your experiences when you get home, or about someone you really like, just as in "She was a phantom of delight"). In my case, I chose to follow the them of the last poem mentioned, "She was a phantom of delight".

                                          Blind heart.

                                    So fond of you,
                                    You set me on fire like no-one else,
                                    mum believes it´s the flu.
                                    But it´s you, only you.
                                      
                                   Falling for your eyes but they don´t know me yet.
                                   I could name all the letters composing the alphabet,
                                   yet all the chances I gave you wouldn´t fit.
                                   However they´re not accredited.
                                   It has a limit, it´s not a vast deposit.
                                   Boy you´ve arrived to the limit.
                                       
                                   My chest isn´t aware, I´m afraid,
                                   he´ll be needing a band-aid.
                                   Debacle between heart and mind,
                                  the heart is blind.
                                         

Sredni Vashtar

For the Literature subject, after reading the story written by Saki "Sredni Vashtar" and analysing basically its literary elements, we had to create a presentation that summed that up. Ladies and gentlemen, here it is:

The Phoenix

For the Literature class, we had to get in pairs and create a presentation who exposed all the main concepts of the story we recently read in class: "The Phoenix" by Sylvia Townsend Warner; such as the theme, the symbolism, a full description of the characters of the story, between others. My presentation was made with Florencia Torino, so here is ours!

Father returning home by Dilip Chitre

For the Literature class, we read the poem father returning home from Dilip Chitre, then after analysing its stanzas, themes and tones, we created a text explaining and showing them. Here is mine, hope you enjoy it!

The second stanza of the story shows us at the level of allienated the boy´s father is, as the sentence like a word dropped from a long sentence that shows us how miserable he is to the world, we get the impression that he is no longer relevant to the people daily travelling with him in the train, like one in a millon. We can see how strange he feels in his routine, he can´t find himself, he is allienated by his job, it consumes him. Long hours that have changed his eyes into unseeing, what goes around doesn´t matter to him. Then, we can see him arriving home, don´t having any touch (or even comunication or a simple greet) with his children, they are all on their own business, not like a family. They don´t seem to care about his father returning home, who left at early morning and came back at late night. After, he lonely drinks a weak tasteless tea and a stale chapatti, what gives us the impression that even his basics requirements (like love or having a warm dish on the table after work) are not fullfilled by his family, he is lost. He then reads some sort of philosophical book about men estrangement from a man-made world, what makes him reflect and feel miserable realysing he is a victim. He washes his hands, where the author makes special emphasis in his brown skin, trembling. He goes to his room, but as he doesn´t have his family´s company he turns on the radio, trying to replace the hole it leaves in his heart to be aparted in some kind of way to his family.

The theme of the poem is the allienation or the own strangement experienced by the main character in the poem, what would be the father of the author Dilip Chitre, and probably the life of many people at the time of the post independence India. This elderly man feels disconsolate and afflicted, he doesn´t only unfind himself at work, he does it at his OWN HOUSE, where he is ignored by his family, and where he eats alone and doesn´t talk. Like if his family and him wouldn´t have any connection, he is lost even with the people he loves, At work, he is just one more, at home one more, at the train one more, but at the end, he is nobody and that´s his dilemma. Invisble.

The tone of the poem is blue and in loneliness of  a son (Dilip Chitre) drawing a picture  about the loneliness his father goes through everyday and his feeling of being allienated and absolutely miserable to the world.