What do these quotes suggest about literature?

Which do you agree with and why?

Discussion/thinking task:

There is creative reading as well as creative writing.

Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803-1882) U.S poet, essayist and lecturer

Books are divided into two classes, the books of the hour and the books of all

time.John Ruskin (1819-1900) English art critic

You have been given some examples of texts.

In your groups, discuss them and place them in an order which shows the most ‘literary’ to the least ‘literary’.

Why have you placed them in that order?

Which is the most ‘important text’ and why?

Select someone from your group to come and discuss the ideas you have with people from other groups.

In your groups discuss:

Write a definition of ‘poetry’.

Do the definitions work?Do they fully explain what poetry is?Do they allow for complexities of structure and language?What else can you say about the definitions?

What is poetry and how do we write about it?

Poetry - noun Literary work in which the expression of feelings and

ideas is given intensity by the use of distinctive style and rhythm; poems collectively or as a genre of literature:• he felt a desire to investigate through poetry the subjects of pain

and death• she glanced at the papers and saw some lines of poetry• he is chiefly famous for his love poetry

A quality of beauty and intensity of emotion regarded as characteristic of poems:• poetry and fire are nicely balanced in the music

Something regarded as comparable to poetry in its beauty:• the music department is housed in a building which is pure poetry

Oxford on-line dictionary

The snail pushes through a green night, for the grass is heavy with water and meets over the bright path he makes, where rain has darkened the earth’s dark. He moves in a wood of desire, pale antlers barely stirring as he hunts. I cannot tell what power is at work, drenched there with purpose, knowing nothing. What is a snail's fury? All I think is that if later I parted the blades above the tunnel and saw the thin trail of broken white across litter, I would never have imagined the slow passion to that deliberate progress.

The snail pushes through a green night, for the grass is heavy with water and meets over the bright path he makes, where rain has darkened the earth’s dark. He moves in a wood of desire, pale antlers barely stirring as he hunts. I cannot tell what power is at work, drenched there with purpose, knowing nothing. What is a snail's fury? All I think is that if later I parted the blades above the tunnel and saw the thin trail of broken white across litter, I would never have imagined the slow passion to that deliberate progress.

Discuss the text’s meanings and your response/s to the ideas in it.

What do you think of the language used and how the language creates meanings?

• Does this come from a longer piece of text?• What kind of text is it?• Could this be considered a poem and why?

Convert the text into verse.

You can either take the words exactly as they are, or you can modify them in a way that you think would be effective, for instance by leaving words out or by adding them and by breaking up the lines.

What did you do and why?

Does this task refine your view of poetry?

Why?

Look at the two versions in the next slide on your handout.

• Do the texts seem different from the

prose version because of the different

layouts?

• Do you hear or read them differently?

• Does this seem to change the

meaning or the impact of the text at

all?

The snail pushes through a green night,

for the grass is heavy with water

and meets over the bright path he makes,

where rain has darkened the earth’s dark.

He moves in a wood of desire, pale antlers

barely stirring as he hunts.

I cannot tell what power is at work,

drenched there with purpose, knowing

nothing.

What is a snail's fury?

All I think is that if later

I parted the blades above the tunnel

and saw the thin trail of broken white

across litter,

I would never have imagined

the slow passion to that deliberate

progress.

The snail pushes through the green night,for the grass is heavy with waterand meets over the bright path he makes,where rain has darkened the earth’s dark.

He moves in a wood of desire, pale antlers barely stirring as he hunts. I cannot tell what power is at work, drenched there with purpose, knowing nothing.

What is a snail's fury? All I think is that if later I parted the blades above the tunnel and saw the thin trail of broken white across litter, I would never have imagined the slow passion to that deliberate progress.

Compare these two versions of the text.

• How are these two versions different and which

of the two seems more effective?

• What can you say about the form of these

poems – for example, can you see any rhyme or

consistency in line length or stanza length, or is

it entirely free verse?

Which version do you prefer and why? (Including your own rewrite.)

Choose one of the versions of the poem and prepare a reading of it.

The snail pushes through a green night, for the grass is heavy with water and meets over the bright path he makes, where rain has darkened the earth’s dark. He moves in a wood of desire, pale antlers barely stirring as he hunts. I cannot tell what power is at work, drenched there with purpose, knowing nothing. What is a snail's fury? All I think is that if later I parted the blades above the tunnel and saw the thin trail of broken white across litter, I would never have imagined the slow passion to that deliberate progress.

The snail pushes through a green night, for the grass is heavy with water and meets over the bright path he makes, where rain has darkened the earth’s dark. He moves in a wood of desire, pale antlers barely stirring as he hunts. I cannot tell what power is at work, drenched there with purpose, knowing nothing. What is a snail's fury? All I think is that if later I parted the blades above the tunnel and saw the thin trail of broken white across litter, I would never have imagined the slow passion to that deliberate progress.

The snail pushes through a green night,

for the grass is heavy with water

and meets over the bright path he makes,

where rain has darkened the earth’s dark.

He moves in a wood of desire, pale antlers

barely stirring as he hunts.

I cannot tell what power is at work,

drenched there with purpose, knowing

nothing.

What is a snail's fury?

All I think is that if later

I parted the blades above the tunnel

and saw the thin trail of broken white

across litter,

I would never have imagined

the slow passion to that deliberate

progress.

The snail pushes through the green night,for the grass is heavy with waterand meets over the bright path he makes,where rain has darkened the earth’s dark.

He moves in a wood of desire, pale antlers barely stirring as he hunts. I cannot tell what power is at work, drenched there with purpose, knowing nothing.

What is a snail's fury? All I think is that if later I parted the blades above the tunnel and saw the thin trail of broken white across litter, I would never have imagined the slow passion to that deliberate progress.

The snail pushes through a green night,

for the grass is heavy with water

and meets over the bright path he makes,

where rain has darkened the earth’s dark.

He moves in a wood of desire, pale antlers

barely stirring as he hunts.

I cannot tell what power is at work,

drenched there with purpose, knowing

nothing.

What is a snail's fury?

All I think is that if later

I parted the blades above the tunnel

and saw the thin trail of broken white

across litter,

I would never have imagined

the slow passion to that deliberate

progress.

The snail pushes through the green night,for the grass is heavy with waterand meets over the bright path he makes,where rain has darkened the earth’s dark.

He moves in a wood of desire, pale antlers barely stirring as he hunts. I cannot tell what power is at work, drenched there with purpose, knowing nothing.

What is a snail's fury? All I think is that if later I parted the blades above the tunnel and saw the thin trail of broken white across litter, I would never have imagined the slow passion to that deliberate progress.

The snail pushes through a green night, for the grass is heavy with water and meets over the bright path he makes, where rain has darkened the earth’s dark. Hemoves in a wood of desire,

pale antlers barely stirring as he hunts. I cannot tell what power is at work, drenched there with purpose, knowing nothing. What is a snail's fury? AllI think is that if later

I parted the blades above the tunnel and saw the thin trail of broken white across litter, I would never have imagined the slow passion to that deliberate progress.

The snail pushes through a green night, for the grass is heavy with water and meets over the bright path he makes, where rain has darkened the earth’s dark. Hemoves in a wood of desire,

pale antlers barely stirring as he hunts. I cannot tell what power is at work, drenched there with purpose, knowing nothing. What is a snail's fury? AllI think is that if later

I parted the blades above the tunnel and saw the thin trail of broken white across litter, I would never have imagined the slow passion to that deliberate progress.