{"id":25905,"date":"2020-03-29T12:23:50","date_gmt":"2020-03-29T17:23:50","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/brianjnoggle.com\/blog\/?p=25905"},"modified":"2020-03-29T12:23:50","modified_gmt":"2020-03-29T17:23:50","slug":"coronaviraschooling-day-8","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/brianjnoggle.com\/blog\/2020\/03\/29\/coronaviraschooling-day-8\/","title":{"rendered":"Coronaviraschooling: Day 8"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>So every day of this last week, their first at home because of the coronavirus lockdown, the boys and I (and sometimes my beautiful wife) have taken a poem and hand-copied it to keep up with our handwriting and to talk about poetry.  We started with &#8220;If&#8221; by Rudyward Kipling, and apparently it&#8217;s a thing now because I&#8217;ve seen it on a couple different blogs (<a href=\"https:\/\/adaptivecurmudgeon.com\/2020\/03\/23\/rudyard-kipling\/\" target=\"_new\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer\">here<\/a> and <a href=\"https:\/\/pjmedia.com\/victordavishanson\/trumps-strategic-foresight-is-being-put-to-the-test\/\" target=\"_new\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer\">here<\/a> this very week).  I was going to have them do &#8220;The Gods of Copybook Headings&#8221;, but it&#8217;s pretty long&#8211;&#8220;If&#8221; took the slowest writer an hour (complaining included).<\/p>\n<p>So we did a couple of shorter poems&#8211;a sonnet by Edna St. Vincent Millay, &#8220;Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening&#8221; by Robert Frost, &#8220;Ozymandias&#8221; by Shelley on Friday.<\/p>\n<p>Continuing the theme of Romantic poets writing about ancient Asian things, yesterday we went with &#8220;<a href=\"https:\/\/www.poetryfoundation.org\/poems\/43991\/kubla-khan\" target=\"_new\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer\">Kubla Khan<\/a>&#8221; by Samuel Taylor Coleridge:<\/p>\n<blockquote><p>\nIn Xanadu did Kubla Khan<br \/>\nA stately pleasure-dome decree:<br \/>\nWhere Alph, the sacred river, ran<br \/>\nThrough caverns measureless to man<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;   Down to a sunless sea.<br \/>\nSo twice five miles of fertile ground<br \/>\nWith walls and towers were girdled round;<br \/>\nAnd there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,<br \/>\nWhere blossomed many an incense-bearing tree;<br \/>\nAnd here were forests ancient as the hills,<br \/>\nEnfolding sunny spots of greenery.<\/p>\n<p>But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted<br \/>\nDown the green hill athwart a cedarn cover!<br \/>\nA savage place! as holy and enchanted<br \/>\nAs e\u2019er beneath a waning moon was haunted<br \/>\nBy woman wailing for her demon-lover!<br \/>\nAnd from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,<br \/>\nAs if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,<br \/>\nA mighty fountain momently was forced:<br \/>\nAmid whose swift half-intermitted burst<br \/>\nHuge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,<br \/>\nOr chaffy grain beneath the thresher\u2019s flail:<br \/>\nAnd mid these dancing rocks at once and ever<br \/>\nIt flung up momently the sacred river.<br \/>\nFive miles meandering with a mazy motion<br \/>\nThrough wood and dale the sacred river ran,<br \/>\nThen reached the caverns measureless to man,<br \/>\nAnd sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean;<br \/>\nAnd \u2019mid this tumult Kubla heard from far<br \/>\nAncestral voices prophesying war!<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;   The shadow of the dome of pleasure<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;   Floated midway on the waves;<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;   Where was heard the mingled measure<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;   From the fountain and the caves.<br \/>\nIt was a miracle of rare device,<br \/>\nA sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice!<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;   A damsel with a dulcimer<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;   In a vision once I saw:<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;   It was an Abyssinian maid<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;   And on her dulcimer she played,<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;   Singing of Mount Abora.<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;   Could I revive within me<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;   Her symphony and song,<br \/>\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;   To such a deep delight \u2019twould win me,<br \/>\nThat with music loud and long,<br \/>\nI would build that dome in air,<br \/>\nThat sunny dome! those caves of ice!<br \/>\nAnd all who heard should see them there,<br \/>\nAnd all should cry, Beware! Beware!<br \/>\nHis flashing eyes, his floating hair!<br \/>\nWeave a circle round him thrice,<br \/>\nAnd close your eyes with holy dread<br \/>\nFor he on honey-dew hath fed,<br \/>\nAnd drunk the milk of Paradise.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n<p>After about an hour (including complaining), we finished.  We talked about the rhyme scheme, the meter, and the way the poet uses strange contractions to make meter.  I mentioned that Coleridge is best known for writing the Iron Maiden song &#8220;<a href=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/watch?v=t7zk4as9kzA\" target=\"_new\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer\">Rime of the Ancient Mariner<\/a>&#8220;.  <\/p>\n<p>And then we watched the film version of the poem.<\/p>\n<p align=\"center\"><img decoding=\"async\" src=\"https:\/\/brianjnoggle.com\/bsgfx\/xanadu.jpg\"><\/p>\n<p>I told my beautiful wife I had just picked it up.  Wherein &#8220;just&#8221; in this case means <a href=\"https:\/\/brianjnoggle.com\/blog\/2017\/06\/24\/good-book-hunting-115\/\" target=\"_new\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer\">three years ago<\/a>.<\/p>\n<p>My wife and youngest son watched the whole thing with me; the oldest son wandered off, and when he returned, he asked what was happening, as though it was making real sense between the Olivia Newton-John numbers.  We told him it would have made more sense if he hadn&#8217;t missed the animated interlude in the middle.  Which was not true, but.<\/p>\n<p>Today, I think we will continue our mythology unit with the 1980 <em>Clash of the Titans<\/em>.<\/p>\n<p><em>Confession: I did select &#8220;Kubla Khan&#8221; just so we would get to watch the movie thereafter.  There, I said it.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>So every day of this last week, their first at home because of the coronavirus lockdown, the boys and I (and sometimes my beautiful wife) have taken a poem and hand-copied it to keep up with our handwriting and to talk about poetry. We started with &#8220;If&#8221; by Rudyward Kipling, and apparently it&#8217;s a thing [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3334,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[16,24,3],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-25905","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-life","category-movies","category-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/brianjnoggle.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/25905","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/brianjnoggle.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/brianjnoggle.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/brianjnoggle.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3334"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/brianjnoggle.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=25905"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/brianjnoggle.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/25905\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":25906,"href":"https:\/\/brianjnoggle.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/25905\/revisions\/25906"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/brianjnoggle.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=25905"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/brianjnoggle.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=25905"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/brianjnoggle.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=25905"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}