Philosophy Lessons, or The Teacher's Tale

[abu nuwas]

"Mr Ntini", the Master began, while wiping the chalk from the board,
' You were, I think, to read and compare, our favorite Arrian
With Hegel and Kant- the whole Germanic horde."

All the ancient lawns and grasses prismed in the teacher's glasses;
For as the boy expounded all that he had learnt and stored,
Through them he saw another place, with other boys and classes.

There, the brightest and the best had said, the reason he was snorin'
Was because it was all fucking stupid
And that wanker Soren was borin'.

" Thus, I would contend" puffed Mr Thirteeny
Holding his lapel like his Dad
'That Epictetus and Nietsche, are somewhere in betweeny".


Everyone at High Table knew, as they passed around the port,
That Mr Ntini, and Mr Cholmondely-Ponsonby de Tomkyns
Would rule the world; because they were among the right sort.

Yet a young half-blue, and a damned good oar
All new to School and its ways, asked was it fair?
"No", the High Master sighed, "and it's a bore; but

They're poor, they're poor!"



NB 'Cholmondely' is pronounced 'Chumley'
.

[billy]

firstly, i think this should be in serious crit. (it's that good) the novice forum is for poetry that needs a gentle helping hand. for me this is an accomplished original poem. that said we are here to help
i enjoyed that i had to look up Arrian, it made the following line all the sweeter. lots of good imagery grasses prismed in the teachers glasses was for me an excellent image, which ties is perfectly with arrian. i can nothing of note which could improve or help improve this fine piece of poetry. a nit maybe but nothing of worth to the poet. thanks for the read, i do feel it's time you posted in the at the very least the mild crit forum

as an aside, i think this poem is extremely publishable. jmo

---

i remember mister chumely

mr cholmondely warner.
[youtube]5Ivsb79-h90[/youtube]

[abu nuwas]

Thank you, Billy.

Faber & Faber are knocking the door,
With a handful of silverish pieces;
But I shall not take, betraying the poor:
Leave me alone with my faeces!

I mean, thanks for your kind remarks. And Mr Cholmondely Warner. I loved all of those sketches!

I hope you got something from Arrian/Epictetus. I think it a very handy philosophy -- that we can do nothing about the external world to change it, but internally, in our responses to it, we are king (rather briefly put!)

[billy]

i already work along those lines (Arrian's)

[Leanne]

I heartily concur with the esteemed mr billy that this should go somewhere near Serious Critique, as I'd love to get my teeth stuck right into it, although I could do that here I suppose You are of course right not to take those thirty pieces of silver offered by Messrs Faber and the other Faber, you know what sort of trouble that can get you into.

My favourite line, aside from all the wonderful philosophical allusions, is "All the ancient lawns and grasses prismed in the teacher's glasses" -- this opens a whole world of possible interpretations, chief among which (in my head at least) is the refraction of history through a single eye and the ways that this view may either taint or illuminate others. For the record, "that wanker Soren" is one of my favourites... I'm ever so dull though...

[abu nuwas]

I heartily concur with the esteemed mr billy that this should go somewhere near Serious Critique, as I'd love to get my teeth stuck right into it, although I could do that here I suppose You are of course right not to take those thirty pieces of silver offered by Messrs Faber and the other Faber, you know what sort of trouble that can get you into.

My favourite line, aside from all the wonderful philosophical allusions, is "All the ancient lawns and grasses prismed in the teacher's glasses" -- this opens a whole world of possible interpretations, chief among which (in my head at least) is the refraction of history through a single eye and the ways that this view may either taint or illuminate others. For the record, "that wanker Soren" is one of my favourites... I'm ever so dull though...

Thank you, Leanne. I had been mulling Billy's suggestio of promoting myself, but the prospect of your teeth has brought me to my senses.

It was intended as a tale of two schools, but I did not paint the 'bog standard comp' very well. With that line, you see more clearly than I do. I think I only had a picture of the Master seeing earlier generations playing, in v slightly different clothes, at very slightly different games; and then some former school he had taught at, and tried to introduce a bit of philosophy. In my mind, his specs would have steamed up a little, and he would have had to wipe them. But it's no good unlesss you write it out, is it?

[grannyjill]

For some reason I cannot explain this reminds me of the poem 'Naming of Parts' (the author of which escapes me)...very vague I know! It's that poem where he is naming the parts of a rifle and then morphs into parts of flowers.....I first read it at school and was very impressed by it.

And I am very impressed by 'Philosphy Lessons....'
too. A good read with lots to savour.

[Ca ne fait rien]

"Mr Ntini", the Master began, while wiping the chalk from the board,
' You were, I think, to read and compare, our favorite Arrian
With Hegel and Kant- the whole Germanic horde."

All the ancient lawns and grasses prismed in the teacher's glasses;
For as the boy expounded all that he had learnt and stored,
Through them he saw another place, with other boys and classes.

There, the brightest and the best had said, the reason he was snorin'
Was because it was all fucking stupid
And that wanker Soren was borin'.

" Thus, I would contend" puffed Mr Thirteeny
Holding his lapel like his Dad
'That Epictetus and Nietsche, are somewhere in betweeny".


Everyone at High Table knew, as they passed around the port,
That Mr Ntini, and Mr Cholmondely-Ponsonby de Tomkyns
Would rule the world; because they were among the right sort.

Yet a young half-blue, and a damned good oar
All new to School and its ways, asked was it fair?
"No", the High Master sighed, "and it's a bore; but

They're poor, they're poor!"



NB 'Cholmondely' is pronounced 'Chumley'
.

Reminds me of that bit in Stephen Fry's autobiography where he 'goes up'
to Cambridge and contrasts those who are there through privilege to those 'poor' people who were not quite the right sort, and felt guilty for thinking so. It is a bit of an indictment on our education system that things still don't change all that much, and those barriers are still there. The playing fields of Eton and the eye-poking out playing fields of Fettes still rule the world whether Ntinis or Cholmondelay- Farquarsons.
As for the technixal aspects , what can I say? What do I know? Of course I like the sounds of the fisrt line second stanza, same as everyone else does. I like all of the second stanza, almost smell the plimsolls and fresh cut wickets. There is something about the word 'Prism' that is just special.
'Thirteeny makes me think of Adrian Mole ( in this context)- are Masters the boys who never got away? I like that thought. I do hope they passed the port to the left.
A sophisticated little number, indeedy.

[abu nuwas]

.

Reminds me of that bit in Stephen Fry's autobiography where he 'goes up'
to Cambridge and contrasts those who are there through privilege to those 'poor' people who were not quite the right sort, and felt guilty for thinking so.

My father who was at Cambridge around 1906/08 would speak of people being derided as 'big-boot boys' by those who were the right type, that is, fee-payers. The Scholarship boys would be kitted out with solid, if unfashionable, clothing, meant to last, and some decent boots; exactly the reverse of the foppish 'necessaries' like waistcoats, and plenty of them, and fancy shoes, which the children of the gentry purchased from the local retailers. Thus the peculiar situation arose, where the brightest of the bright were looked down upon by the, er, thickos. Only later did it occur to me that my father probably had heard the phrase directed to-wards himself.

As it happened, it produced one of those golden generations to which all contributed. And now we seem to be returning to those days.

Glad you got something from it.

[busker]

"Mr Ntini", the Master began, while wiping the chalk from the board,
' You were, I think, to read and compare, our favorite Arrian
With Hegel and Kant- the whole Germanic horde."

All the ancient lawns and grasses prismed in the teacher's glasses;
For as the boy expounded all that he had learnt and stored,
Through them he saw another place, with other boys and classes.

There, the brightest and the best had said, the reason he was snorin'
Was because it was all fucking stupid
And that wanker Soren was borin'.

" Thus, I would contend" puffed Mr Thirteeny
Holding his lapel like his Dad
'That Epictetus and Nietsche, are somewhere in betweeny".


Everyone at High Table knew, as they passed around the port,
That Mr Ntini, and Mr Cholmondely-Ponsonby de Tomkyns
Would rule the world; because they  were among the right sort.

Yet a young half-blue, and a damned good oar
All new to School and its ways, asked was it fair?
"No", the High Master sighed, "and it's a bore; but

      They're poor, they're poor!"



NB  'Cholmondely' is pronounced 'Chumley'
.

I like the juxtaposition of Hegel and Kant with the Germanic horde, in contrast to Arrian, the heretic Eastern priest who purloined the glory of our lord for a moment.

[ADUnser]

Wow, I'm new to this forum and your poem really blew me away. I like how you blend the sections in quotations in with the rhythm of the rest of the poem. I like that you're telling a story with this piece and managed to work those portions in with the more traditional poetic lines. It's an interesting poem and definitely sets the bar high for my future on this site!