This has to be handed in tomorrow, do you think there any last minute changes that I should make?
That day dad had taken us to school-me and my sister. This wasn't such a rare occurrence, occasionally when my mother was at a meeting or seminar. We always hated those days purely as it meant less time in bed-now it seems so petty to have complained about a measly loss of 15 more minutes. My mother had left early to go to Oban or somewhere, I don’t really remember where she was going that day or what for. All I know is that she was travelling in that direction, along the Rest and be Thankful, when it happened. That road was well-known for being treacherously twisty, with no run-off on either side...
It was an odd day, one of those in between sort of days. It was freezing and frosty but the sun was shining, the ice shimmering. At the ring of the school bell signalling the end of lunch, my friends and I began to hurry towards the school, glad for an excuse to get back indoors. I remember seeing my dad - he is a depute head teacher at my school - standing at the front door. We greeted him and he replied. But he seemed elsewhere. Distant.
It’s hard to recall him telling me, but I do remember great confusion. Mum had crashed. The car. Rolled three times. Ended in a ditch. But she was ok. She was fine. Shaken, but not hurt. It was “a miracle”; she’d walked out herself, with barely a scratch and a rip in her tights. I didn’t know what to say, oblivious to the sheer scale of this event. I had no idea what I was expected to say. My dad walked away as I followed the rest of the latecomers up to class.
Despite the shocking news, at the time my main worry was about what my teacher would say when I walked in late. I now realise how insignificant that was when my main concern should have been my mother. I guess that at that age - I was 12 at the time - hearing that she wasn't physically hurt put my mind at ease. At the time all I could think about was what effect this would have on my life, how I would be affected. Now I realise how self-centred this was. What about my mother? What about the emotional hurt? What if she had suffered from nightmares? What if she couldn't face the wheel again? Such thoughts had never entered my mind at the time.
The next two periods had been a total blur. My friends kept attempting to make conversation to resolve the awkward silences. But that was nothing compared to the walk home…
My sister and I met up at the end of school, Emma looked strangely gaunt, as if she'd been hurt. She barely said anything during the walk home. I remember her telling me that she had cried during class – I didn’t understand, after all, mum was “fine”, but Emma had always been sensitive. Although Emma was only two years my elder, I now realise that Emma was virtually an adult and she understood the connotations of mum’s crash. I was still a child, unaware of what loss could feel like. Emma had known how serious that day could have been; we could have lost a parent.
When our house came into view, my mouth became dry, a lump forming in my throat. I was scared. I didn’t want to enter my own home. “Come on”, Emma urged, her voice shaking. Apprehensively, we moved towards our house. As we reached the gate an unknown car came into sight. I looked at the confusion on my sister’s face.
“Is that-ours?”
“Don’t be silly,” replied Emma unconvincingly, “it doesn’t happen that quickly.”
I wondered, would we have to walk to school? How would we get the shopping? Visions of a newly-deprived lifestyle flooded over me, so that I was almost cross at my mum for landing us in this state. Yet again I thought of such petty things. After all, what did that matter?
The door slid open revealing laughter and music. We followed these sounds, which were coming from the living room. The first thing that caught my eye was of course my mum, dressed in jeans and a loose shirt that I remember being buttoned wrongly. This was not my mum, she was always the image of perfection; never a hair out of place. I remember finding this odd, but she was smiling and laughing with a couple of her friends from work and my dad.
“How was school?” she asked.
“Ok, the usual I guess.” I replied confused by how such a typical conversation could be taking place after such a rare occurrence.
At the time, although confused by the cheeriness of this scene, I took the sight of my carefree mother to mean that she was fine - laughing at her own foolishness. However, I now see that mother was just putting on a brave face, perhaps for my own benefit. Or maybe she was trying to convince herself that everything was, and would be, ok. I also now realise how shaken and terrified she must have been and that my mother was not foolish-there had been black ice on the road and she had tried so hard to redeem herself and get the car back on the road.
Later it became obvious that she was scared by the prospect of driving again. One day at work mother had hit a boulder in the car park and on another occasion she had experienced a minor collision with a bus. But anyone’s confidence would be shattered after a crash that severe. We all helped of course. In the beginning dad took her out for short drives round the block and I was even there when she went back on the motorway for the first time since the crash. Truthfully I was rather terrified; if she lost her nerve there was no way I could have really helped. Perhaps just being there for my mother gave her courage and re-established her belief in herself. By just being there for her in her time of need, I suppose the relationship I have with my mother grew stronger, such a simple task meant so much to her…
“So, shall I just see you all there then?”
“Would you like me to come with you mum?” I suggested, there was no way I was going to let her be alone in the car again, especially not when she hadn’t been on the motorway since the accident.
“Sarah, that would just be, but are you sure you want to?”
“Yes mum, don’t be silly. You’ve been on the motorway millions of times!” I tried to convince not only my mum, but also myself, “You can do this no problem. Now let’s go quickly or we’ll be late.” It was like a role-reversal, I was helping her, convincing her that she was capable while she looked at me, scared and looking for assurance.
Today I look back at that crash able to see its potential. I also think of what the people of our small community may have thought, that it had been her fault or that she was clearly an incompetent driver. I guess my mother maybe thought so too.
“It’s four years ago tomorrow that I had the accident you know,” My mother casually informed me a matter of weeks ago whilst doing the ironing.
“Is it really?” I answered, amazed by how quickly the years had passed. Those four years could have been extremely different. Everyday on the news I hear stories of families being left devastated due to road accidents – it could quite easily have been my family, left without a mother, a wife, a daughter or even a sister, so many lives could have been left incomplete that day. I never realised how vital a role my mother plays in so many lives, until I faced the prospect of losing her.
“Strange, isn’t it?” she replied.
SS
Monday, November 20, 2006
Sunday, November 19, 2006
Thanks for your comments, is this any better?
That day dad had taken us to school-me and my sister. This wasn't such a rare occurrence, occasionally when my mother was at a meeting or seminar. We always hated those days purely as it meant less time in bed-now it seems so petty to have complained about a measly loss of 15 more minutes. My mother had left early to go to Oban or somewhere, I don’t really remember where she was going that day or what for. All I know is that she was travelling in that direction, along the Rest and be Thankful, when it happened. That road was well-known for being treacherously twisty, with no run-off on either side...
It was an odd day, one of those in between sort of days. It was freezing and frosty but the sun was shining, the ice shimmering. At the ring of the school bell signalling the end of lunch, my friends and I began to hurry towards the school, glad for an excuse to get back indoors. I remember seeing my dad, he is a depute head teacher at my school, standing at the front door. We greeted him and he replied. But he seemed elsewhere. Distant.
It’s hard to recall him telling me, but I do remember great confusion. Mum had crashed. The car. Rolled three times. Ended in a ditch. But she was ok. She was fine. Shaken, but not hurt. It was “a miracle”; she’d walked out herself, with barely a scratch and a rip in her tights. I didn’t know what to say, oblivious to the sheer scale of this event. I had no idea what I was expected to say. My dad walked away as I followed the rest of the latecomers up to class.
Despite the shocking news, at the time my main worry was about what my teacher would say when I walked in late. I now realise how insignificant that was when my main concern should have been my mother. I guess that at that age - I was 12 at the time - hearing that she wasn't physically hurt put my mind at ease. At the time all I could think about was what effect this would have on my life, how I would be affected. Now I realise how self-centred this was. What about my mother? What about the emotional hurt? What if she had suffered from nightmares? What if she couldn't face the wheel again? Such thoughts had never entered my mind at the time.
The next two periods had been a total blur. My friends kept attempting to make conversation to resolve the awkward silences. But that was nothing compared to the walk home…
My sister and I met up at the end of school, Emma looked strangely gaunt, as if she'd been hurt. She barely said anything during the walk home. I remember her telling me that she had cried during class – I didn’t understand, after all, mum was “fine”, but Emma had always been sensitive. Although Emma was only two years my elder, I now realise that Emma was virtually an adult and she understood the connotations of mum’s crash. I was still a child, unaware of what loss could feel like. Emma had known how serious that day could have been; we could have lost a parent.
When our house came into view, my mouth became dry, a lump forming in my throat. I was scared. I didn’t want to enter my own home. “Come on”, Emma urged, her voice shaking. Apprehensively, we moved towards our house. As we reached the gate an unknown car came into sight. I looked at the confusion on my sister’s face.
“Is that-ours?”
“Don’t be silly,” replied Emma unconvincingly, “it doesn’t happen that quickly.”
I wondered, would we have to walk to school? How would we get the shopping? Visions of a newly-deprived lifestyle flooded over me, so that I was almost cross at my mum for landing us in this state. Yet again I thought of such petty things. After all, what did that matter?
The door slid open revealing laughter and music. We followed these sounds, which were coming from the living room. The first thing that caught my eye was of course my mum, dressed in jeans and a loose shirt that I remember being buttoned wrongly. This was not my mum, she was always the image of perfection; never a hair out of place. I remember finding this odd, but she was smiling and laughing with a couple of her friends from work and my dad.
“How was school?” she asked.
“Ok, the usual I guess.” I replied confused by how such a typical conversation could be taking place after such a rare occurrence.
At the time, although confused by the cheeriness of this scene, I took the sight of my carefree mother to mean that she was fine - laughing at her own foolishness. However, I now see that mother was just putting on a brave face, perhaps for my own benefit. Or maybe she was trying to convince herself that everything was, and would be, ok. I also now realise how shaken and terrified she must have been and that my mother was not foolish-there had been black ice on the road and she had tried so hard to redeem herself and get the car back on the road.
Later it became obvious that she was scared by the prospect of driving again. One day at work mother had hit a boulder in the car park and on another occasion she had experienced a minor collision with a bus. But anyone’s confidence would be shattered after a crash that severe. We all helped of course. In the beginning dad took her out for short drives round the block and I was even there when she went back on the motorway for the first time since the crash. Truthfully I was rather terrified; if she lost her nerve there was no way I could have really helped. Perhaps just being there for my mother gave her courage and re-established her belief in herself. By just being there for her in her time of need, I suppose the relationship I have with my mother grew stronger, such a simple task meant so much to her…
“So, shall I just see you all there then?”
“Would you like me to come with you mum?” I suggested, there was no way I was going to let her be alone in the car again, especially not when she hadn’t been on the motorway since the accident.
“Sarah, that would just be, but are you sure you want to?” she replied.
“Yes mum, don’t be silly. You’ve been on the motorway millions of times!” I said trying to convince not only my mum, but also myself, “You can do this no problem. Now let’s go quickly or we’ll be late.” It was like a role-reversal, I was helping her, convincing her that she was capable while she looked at me, scared and looking for assurance.
Today I look back at that crash able to see it’s potential. I also think of what the people of our small community may have thought, that it had been her fault or that she was clearly an incompetent driver. I guess my mother maybe thought so too.
“It’s four years ago tomorrow that I had the accident you know.” My mother casually informed me a matter of weeks ago whilst doing the ironing.
“Is it really?” I answered, amazed by how quickly the years had passed. Those four years could have been extremely different. Everyday on the news I hear stories of families being left devastated due to road accidents – it could quite easily have been my family, left without a mother, a wife, a daughter or even a sister, so many lives could have been left incomplete that day. I never realised how vital a role my mother plays in so many lives, until I faced the prospect of losing her.
“Strange, isn’t it?” mum said.
SS
That day dad had taken us to school-me and my sister. This wasn't such a rare occurrence, occasionally when my mother was at a meeting or seminar. We always hated those days purely as it meant less time in bed-now it seems so petty to have complained about a measly loss of 15 more minutes. My mother had left early to go to Oban or somewhere, I don’t really remember where she was going that day or what for. All I know is that she was travelling in that direction, along the Rest and be Thankful, when it happened. That road was well-known for being treacherously twisty, with no run-off on either side...
It was an odd day, one of those in between sort of days. It was freezing and frosty but the sun was shining, the ice shimmering. At the ring of the school bell signalling the end of lunch, my friends and I began to hurry towards the school, glad for an excuse to get back indoors. I remember seeing my dad, he is a depute head teacher at my school, standing at the front door. We greeted him and he replied. But he seemed elsewhere. Distant.
It’s hard to recall him telling me, but I do remember great confusion. Mum had crashed. The car. Rolled three times. Ended in a ditch. But she was ok. She was fine. Shaken, but not hurt. It was “a miracle”; she’d walked out herself, with barely a scratch and a rip in her tights. I didn’t know what to say, oblivious to the sheer scale of this event. I had no idea what I was expected to say. My dad walked away as I followed the rest of the latecomers up to class.
Despite the shocking news, at the time my main worry was about what my teacher would say when I walked in late. I now realise how insignificant that was when my main concern should have been my mother. I guess that at that age - I was 12 at the time - hearing that she wasn't physically hurt put my mind at ease. At the time all I could think about was what effect this would have on my life, how I would be affected. Now I realise how self-centred this was. What about my mother? What about the emotional hurt? What if she had suffered from nightmares? What if she couldn't face the wheel again? Such thoughts had never entered my mind at the time.
The next two periods had been a total blur. My friends kept attempting to make conversation to resolve the awkward silences. But that was nothing compared to the walk home…
My sister and I met up at the end of school, Emma looked strangely gaunt, as if she'd been hurt. She barely said anything during the walk home. I remember her telling me that she had cried during class – I didn’t understand, after all, mum was “fine”, but Emma had always been sensitive. Although Emma was only two years my elder, I now realise that Emma was virtually an adult and she understood the connotations of mum’s crash. I was still a child, unaware of what loss could feel like. Emma had known how serious that day could have been; we could have lost a parent.
When our house came into view, my mouth became dry, a lump forming in my throat. I was scared. I didn’t want to enter my own home. “Come on”, Emma urged, her voice shaking. Apprehensively, we moved towards our house. As we reached the gate an unknown car came into sight. I looked at the confusion on my sister’s face.
“Is that-ours?”
“Don’t be silly,” replied Emma unconvincingly, “it doesn’t happen that quickly.”
I wondered, would we have to walk to school? How would we get the shopping? Visions of a newly-deprived lifestyle flooded over me, so that I was almost cross at my mum for landing us in this state. Yet again I thought of such petty things. After all, what did that matter?
The door slid open revealing laughter and music. We followed these sounds, which were coming from the living room. The first thing that caught my eye was of course my mum, dressed in jeans and a loose shirt that I remember being buttoned wrongly. This was not my mum, she was always the image of perfection; never a hair out of place. I remember finding this odd, but she was smiling and laughing with a couple of her friends from work and my dad.
“How was school?” she asked.
“Ok, the usual I guess.” I replied confused by how such a typical conversation could be taking place after such a rare occurrence.
At the time, although confused by the cheeriness of this scene, I took the sight of my carefree mother to mean that she was fine - laughing at her own foolishness. However, I now see that mother was just putting on a brave face, perhaps for my own benefit. Or maybe she was trying to convince herself that everything was, and would be, ok. I also now realise how shaken and terrified she must have been and that my mother was not foolish-there had been black ice on the road and she had tried so hard to redeem herself and get the car back on the road.
Later it became obvious that she was scared by the prospect of driving again. One day at work mother had hit a boulder in the car park and on another occasion she had experienced a minor collision with a bus. But anyone’s confidence would be shattered after a crash that severe. We all helped of course. In the beginning dad took her out for short drives round the block and I was even there when she went back on the motorway for the first time since the crash. Truthfully I was rather terrified; if she lost her nerve there was no way I could have really helped. Perhaps just being there for my mother gave her courage and re-established her belief in herself. By just being there for her in her time of need, I suppose the relationship I have with my mother grew stronger, such a simple task meant so much to her…
“So, shall I just see you all there then?”
“Would you like me to come with you mum?” I suggested, there was no way I was going to let her be alone in the car again, especially not when she hadn’t been on the motorway since the accident.
“Sarah, that would just be, but are you sure you want to?” she replied.
“Yes mum, don’t be silly. You’ve been on the motorway millions of times!” I said trying to convince not only my mum, but also myself, “You can do this no problem. Now let’s go quickly or we’ll be late.” It was like a role-reversal, I was helping her, convincing her that she was capable while she looked at me, scared and looking for assurance.
Today I look back at that crash able to see it’s potential. I also think of what the people of our small community may have thought, that it had been her fault or that she was clearly an incompetent driver. I guess my mother maybe thought so too.
“It’s four years ago tomorrow that I had the accident you know.” My mother casually informed me a matter of weeks ago whilst doing the ironing.
“Is it really?” I answered, amazed by how quickly the years had passed. Those four years could have been extremely different. Everyday on the news I hear stories of families being left devastated due to road accidents – it could quite easily have been my family, left without a mother, a wife, a daughter or even a sister, so many lives could have been left incomplete that day. I never realised how vital a role my mother plays in so many lives, until I faced the prospect of losing her.
“Strange, isn’t it?” mum said.
SS
Personal/reflective essay redrafted
That day dad had taken us to school-me and my sister. This wasn't such a rare occurrence, occasionally when my mother was at a meeting or seminar. We always hated those days purely as it meant less time in bed-now it seems so petty to have complained about a measly loss of 15 more minutes. My mother had left early to go to Oban or somewhere, I don’t really remember where she was going that day or what for. All I know is that she was travelling in that direction, along the Rest and be Thankful, when it happened. That road was well-known for being treacherously twisty, with no run-off on either side...
It was an odd day, one of those in between sort of days. It was freezing and frosty but the sun was shining, the ice shimmering. At the ring of the school bell signalling the end of lunch, my friends and I began to hurry towards the school, glad for an excuse to get back indoors. I remember seeing my dad standing at the front of the school. We greeted him and he replied. But he seemed elsewhere. Distant.
It’s hard to recall him telling me, but I do remember great confusion. Mum had crashed. The car. Rolled three times. Ended in a ditch. But she was ok. She was fine. Shaken, but not hurt. It was “a miracle”; she’d walked out herself, with barely a scratch and a rip in her tights. I didn’t know what to say, oblivious to the sheer scale of this event. I had no idea what I was expected to say. My dad walked away as I followed the rest of the latecomers up to class.
Despite the shocking news, at the time my main worry was about what my teacher would say when I walked in late. I now realise how insignificant that was when my main concern should have been my mother. I guess that at that age - I was 12 at the time - hearing that she wasn't physically hurt put my mind at ease. At the time all I could think about was what effect this would have on my life, how I would be affected. Now I realise how self-centred this was. What about my mother? What about the emotional hurt? What if she had suffered from nightmares? What if she couldn't face the wheel again? Such thoughts had never entered my mind at the time.
The next two periods had been a total blur. My friends kept attempting to make conversation to resolve the awkward silences. But that was nothing compared to the walk home…
My sister and I met up at the end of school, Emma looked strangely gaunt, as if she'd been hurt. She barely said anything during the walk home. I remember her telling me that she had cried during class – I didn’t understand, after all, mum was “fine”, but Emma had always been sensitive. Although Emma was only two years my elder, I now realise that Emma was virtually an adult, therefore she understood the connotations of mum’s crash. I was still a child, unaware of what loss could feel like. Emma had known how serious that day could have been; we could have lost a parent.
When our house came into view, my mouth became dry, a lump forming in my throat. I was scared. I didn’t want to enter my own home. “Come on”, Emma urged, her voice shaking. Apprehensively, we moved towards our house. As we reached the gate an unknown car came into sight. I looked at the confusion on my sister’s face.
“Is that-ours?”
“Don’t be silly,” replied Emma unconvincingly, “it doesn’t happen that quickly.”
I wondered, would we have to walk to school? How would we get the shopping? Visions of a newly-deprived lifestyle flooded over me, so that I was almost cross at my mother for landing us in this state." Yet again I thought of such petty things. After all, what did that matter?
The door slid open revealing laughter and music. We followed these sounds, which were coming from the living room. The first thing that had caught my eye was of course my mum, dressed in jeans and a loose shirt that I remember being buttoned wrongly. This was not my mum, she was always the image of perfection; never a hair out of place. I remember finding this odd, but she was smiling and laughing with a couple of her friends from work and my dad.
“How as school?” she asked.
“Ok, the usual I guess.” I replied confused by how such a typical conversation could be taking place after such a rare occurrence.
At the time, although confused by the cheeriness of this scene, I took the sight of my carefree mother to mean that she was fine - laughing at her own foolishness. However, I now see that mum was just putting on a brave face, perhaps for my own benefit. Or maybe she was trying to convince herself that everything was, and would be, ok. I also now realise how shaken and terrified she must have been and that mum was not foolish-there had been black ice on the road and mum had tried so hard to redeem herself and get the car back on the road.
Later it became obvious that mum was scared by the prospect of driving again. One day at work mum had hit a boulder in the car park and on another occasion she had experienced a minor collision with a bus. But anyone’s confidence would be shattered after a crash that severe. We all helped of course, in the beginning dad took mum out for short drives round the block and I was even there when she went back on the motorway for the first time since the crash. Truthfully, I was rather terrified, if she lost her nerve there was no way I could have really helped. Perhaps just being there for my mum gave her courage and re-established her belief in herself. By just being there for her in her time of need, I suppose the relationship I have with my mother grew stronger, as she realised how willing I was to help and be there for her in any way that I could.
Today I look back at that crash able to see it’s potential. I also think of what the people of our small community may have thought, that it had been her fault or that she was clearly an incompetent driver. I guess my mum maybe thought so too.
When the crash happened four years ago, I was too young to comprehend the damage that had been caused, or even how much more damaging it could have been. Sometimes my mum mentions that crash. Once I made the mistake of asking her if she had thought she might die, I regretted it afterwards when she was unable to answer. After all, that day could have been extremely different. Everyday on the news I hear stories of families being left devastated due to road accidents – it could quite easily have been my family, left without a mother, a wife, a daughter of even a sister, so many lives could have been left incomplete after that day. I never realised how vital a role my mother plays in so many lives, until I faced the prospect of losing her.
SS
It was an odd day, one of those in between sort of days. It was freezing and frosty but the sun was shining, the ice shimmering. At the ring of the school bell signalling the end of lunch, my friends and I began to hurry towards the school, glad for an excuse to get back indoors. I remember seeing my dad standing at the front of the school. We greeted him and he replied. But he seemed elsewhere. Distant.
It’s hard to recall him telling me, but I do remember great confusion. Mum had crashed. The car. Rolled three times. Ended in a ditch. But she was ok. She was fine. Shaken, but not hurt. It was “a miracle”; she’d walked out herself, with barely a scratch and a rip in her tights. I didn’t know what to say, oblivious to the sheer scale of this event. I had no idea what I was expected to say. My dad walked away as I followed the rest of the latecomers up to class.
Despite the shocking news, at the time my main worry was about what my teacher would say when I walked in late. I now realise how insignificant that was when my main concern should have been my mother. I guess that at that age - I was 12 at the time - hearing that she wasn't physically hurt put my mind at ease. At the time all I could think about was what effect this would have on my life, how I would be affected. Now I realise how self-centred this was. What about my mother? What about the emotional hurt? What if she had suffered from nightmares? What if she couldn't face the wheel again? Such thoughts had never entered my mind at the time.
The next two periods had been a total blur. My friends kept attempting to make conversation to resolve the awkward silences. But that was nothing compared to the walk home…
My sister and I met up at the end of school, Emma looked strangely gaunt, as if she'd been hurt. She barely said anything during the walk home. I remember her telling me that she had cried during class – I didn’t understand, after all, mum was “fine”, but Emma had always been sensitive. Although Emma was only two years my elder, I now realise that Emma was virtually an adult, therefore she understood the connotations of mum’s crash. I was still a child, unaware of what loss could feel like. Emma had known how serious that day could have been; we could have lost a parent.
When our house came into view, my mouth became dry, a lump forming in my throat. I was scared. I didn’t want to enter my own home. “Come on”, Emma urged, her voice shaking. Apprehensively, we moved towards our house. As we reached the gate an unknown car came into sight. I looked at the confusion on my sister’s face.
“Is that-ours?”
“Don’t be silly,” replied Emma unconvincingly, “it doesn’t happen that quickly.”
I wondered, would we have to walk to school? How would we get the shopping? Visions of a newly-deprived lifestyle flooded over me, so that I was almost cross at my mother for landing us in this state." Yet again I thought of such petty things. After all, what did that matter?
The door slid open revealing laughter and music. We followed these sounds, which were coming from the living room. The first thing that had caught my eye was of course my mum, dressed in jeans and a loose shirt that I remember being buttoned wrongly. This was not my mum, she was always the image of perfection; never a hair out of place. I remember finding this odd, but she was smiling and laughing with a couple of her friends from work and my dad.
“How as school?” she asked.
“Ok, the usual I guess.” I replied confused by how such a typical conversation could be taking place after such a rare occurrence.
At the time, although confused by the cheeriness of this scene, I took the sight of my carefree mother to mean that she was fine - laughing at her own foolishness. However, I now see that mum was just putting on a brave face, perhaps for my own benefit. Or maybe she was trying to convince herself that everything was, and would be, ok. I also now realise how shaken and terrified she must have been and that mum was not foolish-there had been black ice on the road and mum had tried so hard to redeem herself and get the car back on the road.
Later it became obvious that mum was scared by the prospect of driving again. One day at work mum had hit a boulder in the car park and on another occasion she had experienced a minor collision with a bus. But anyone’s confidence would be shattered after a crash that severe. We all helped of course, in the beginning dad took mum out for short drives round the block and I was even there when she went back on the motorway for the first time since the crash. Truthfully, I was rather terrified, if she lost her nerve there was no way I could have really helped. Perhaps just being there for my mum gave her courage and re-established her belief in herself. By just being there for her in her time of need, I suppose the relationship I have with my mother grew stronger, as she realised how willing I was to help and be there for her in any way that I could.
Today I look back at that crash able to see it’s potential. I also think of what the people of our small community may have thought, that it had been her fault or that she was clearly an incompetent driver. I guess my mum maybe thought so too.
When the crash happened four years ago, I was too young to comprehend the damage that had been caused, or even how much more damaging it could have been. Sometimes my mum mentions that crash. Once I made the mistake of asking her if she had thought she might die, I regretted it afterwards when she was unable to answer. After all, that day could have been extremely different. Everyday on the news I hear stories of families being left devastated due to road accidents – it could quite easily have been my family, left without a mother, a wife, a daughter of even a sister, so many lives could have been left incomplete after that day. I never realised how vital a role my mother plays in so many lives, until I faced the prospect of losing her.
SS
Saturday, November 18, 2006
Back to my personal essay
I thought I should return to this for now as it has to be handed in on tuesday. I have finished writing it so I will post the rest tomorrow. Any comments would really be appreciated.
That day dad had taken us to school-me and my sister. This wasn't such a rare occurrence, occasionally when my mother was at a meeting or seminar. We always hated those days purely as it meant less time in bed-now it seems so petty to have complained about a measly loss of 15 more minutes. My mother had left early to go to Oban or somewhere, I don’t really remember where she was going that day or what for. All I know is that she was travelling in that direction, along the Rest and be Thankful, when it happened. That road was well-known for being treacherously twisty, with no run-off on either side...
It was an odd day, one of those in between sort of days. It was freezing and frosty but the sun was shining, the ice shimmering. At the ring of the school bell signalling the end of lunch, my friends and I began to hurry towards the school, glad for an excuse to get back indoors. I remember seeing my dad standing at the front of the school. We greeted him and he replied. But he seemed elsewhere. Distant.
It’s hard to recall him telling me, but I do remember great confusion. Mum had crashed. The car. Rolled three times. Ended in a ditch. But she was ok. She was fine. Shaken, but not hurt. It was “a miracle”; she’d walked out herself, with barely a scratch and a rip in her tights. I didn’t know what to say, oblivious to the sheer scale of this event. I had no idea what I was expected to say. My dad walked away as I followed the rest of the latecomers up to class.
Despite the shocking news, at the time my main worry was about what my teacher would say when I walked in late. I now realise how insignificant that was when my main concern should have been my mother. I guess that at such at that age, I was only 12, hearing that she wasn't physically hurt put my mind at ease. At the time all I could think about was what effect this would have on my life, how I would be affected. Now I realise how self-centred this was. What about my mother? What about the emotional hurt? What if she had suffered from nightmares? What if she couldn't face the wheel again? Such thoughts had never entered my mind at the time.
The next two periods had been a total blur. My friends kept attempting to make conversation to resolve the awkward silences. But that was nothing compared to the walk home…
My gaunt looking sister and I met up at the end of school. She had barely said anything the whole journey. I remember her telling me that she had cried during class – I didn’t understand, after all, mum was “fine”, but Emma had always been sensitive. Although Emma was only two years my elder, I now realise that Emma was virtually an adult, therefore she understood the connotations of mum’s crash. I was still a child, unaware of what loss could feel like. Emma had known how serious that day could have been; we could have lost a parent.
When our house came into view, my mouth became dry, a lump forming in my throat. I was scared. I didn’t want to enter my own home. “Come on”, Emma urged, her voice shaking. Apprehensively, we moved towards our house. As we reached the gate an unknown car came into sight. I looked at the confusion on my sister’s face.
“Is that-ours?”
“Don’t be silly,” replied Emma unconvincingly, “it doesn’t happen that quickly.”
I then began to wonder how we would live our lives, would we walk to school tomorrow? How would we get our shopping later in the week? Yet again I had thought of such petty things. After all, what did that matter?
The door slid open revealing laughter and music. We followed these sounds, which were coming from the living room. The first thing that had caught my eye was of course my mum, dressed in jeans and a loose shirt that I remember being buttoned wrongly. This was not my mum, she was always the image of perfection; never a hair out of place. I remember finding this odd, but she was smiling and laughing with a couple of her friends from work and my dad. At the time, although confused by the cheeriness of this scene, I took this sight to mean that mum was fine-laughing at her own foolishness. However, I now see that mum was just putting on a brave face, perhaps for my own benefit. Or maybe she was trying to convince herself that everything was, and would be, ok. I also now realise how shaken and terrified she must have been and that mum was not foolish-there had been black ice on the road and mum had tried so hard to redeem herself and get the car back on the road.
SS
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
Hi, thanks for all your suggestions, I've made some changes. Sorry but I don't really understand what to do with the end of para 1 because Mr S seemed positve that I have stated the three features I am concentrating on but I do feel that it is very clumsy and something must be done to improve it.
Critical Essay
“You lived in Glasgow”
Choose a poem which explores either the significance of the past or the importance of family relationships.
Show how the poet treats the subject, and explain to what extent you find the treatment convincing.
In your answer you must refer closely to the text and to at least two of: theme, imagery, rhyme, tone, or any other appropriate feature.
“You lived in Glasgow”, by Iain Crichton Smith, is a poem in which the poet describes his fruitless search for traces of his deceased mother which takes place in Glasgow. By embarking on this search the poet wishes to achieve a sense of closure due to the guilt he feels because of his rejection of her culture and beliefs. The poem revolves around the central theme of how “the past’s an experience that we cannot share” and in doing so presents how significant the past is. This is achieved by the use of theme, imagery and also tone.
The poet develops this theme by an early shift in tense from past to present as he embarks on the search for the past. This quick change to present tense shows that the poet’s search has been initiated. There is a reference to the great depression-a major aspect of Glasgow’s past, which occurred due to the Wall Street crash. The “dregs” that the poet mentions represent the unemployed in Glasgow as the useless leftovers, unwanted by society and a nuisance that must be dealt with. Here imagery of cigarette ends are produced to create the impression of the ‘dregs of society’, this of course is a reference to The Depression Glasgow was experiencing at this time, which therefore creates a dreary, depressed tone. The image conjured up by the words "dregs" and "fag-ends" is of poverty and hopelessness, of people rejected by society and struggling to survive on what little they have, the “fag ends” also show the use of a colloquial tone. Through the imagery and tone here, the poet shows that aspects of the past still remain in his mind. “A maxi-skirted girl strolls by” and causes memories of the poet’s mother to be stirred. These long skirts obviously remind the poet of his mother who, presumably , never diverted to wearing mini-skirts which preceded longer skirts as a fashion. This shows that the past can still be seen in Glasgow.
One of the main themes of the poem is of the contrast between continuity and change. For example there is a contrast between the “Stone remains” the statues that have remained from the past (and are therefore permanent) and humans who are temporary. These statues are a significant part of the past as they cause this realisation of the temporariness of human life; this is what the poet is attempting to come to terms with during his search. Another symbol of the past which is used are the trams which are “invisible now but to the mind”-showing that their past presence is still remembered. Also, the significance of their past is that they will probably return at some point as part of life’s cycle. The poet remembers that in the past buildings were lit by gaslight and therefore everything was darker, however “now everything is brighter” as lights are powered by electricity – this is also representative of the poet’s new outlook in life which has become more positive. Also, the “pale ghosts” show the importance of past people as their presence can still be felt; this is shown through the suggestion made to the temporary nature of life, which is another theme of this poem.
In the past the poet rejected his mother’s faith and now, years later, he still feels guilty; therefore it must be significant to him. He sees Calvinism as a “black figure” which was devoid of pleasure. The imagery of “the gaslit blue” is that of the dim light of the past, which contrasts with the “fiercer voltage” of today now that we have electricity. This shows the significance of the past as this image of the “gaslit blue” has remained with the poet throughout the years. The poet feels that “The past’s an experience that we cannot share”, an important theme of the poem, perhaps because he feels the past is so important that full recognition cannot possibly be given to it.
In the third stanza imagery of Glasgow’s past is used. The poet remembers the “Flat-capped Glaswegians and the Music Hall”. Images of working-class male Glaswegians are portrayed and of course a reference is made to the previous forms of entertainment which have now vanished, perhaps due to improvements in living standards and changes in technology. These past sights are clearly significant, as they have remained with the poet over the years. Nowadays commercial supermarkets have ruined the personal relationships Glaswegians had with the street traders who sold “apples and oranges on an open stall”. Through this use of the theme of change it can be seen that in the past the stall sellers were a significant part of everyday life. The poet’s memories are “opening and shutting like a parasol” as these memories come and go as things stimulate his mind. This establishes that aspects of the past can still be found in the city of Glasgow.
The poet feels that his mother is a “constant tenant of my tenement”. The harsh tone used by this alliteration suggests the harsh fact that his mother’s presence still exists; this shows the importance of her past. The theme of change is continued through the use of the “pleasant Wildes” which “have now gone in the building programme”. The poet is almost mourning the past sense of community spirit which was destroyed by the changing of the suburban landscape. This reference made to the theme of change shows the significance of Glasgow’s past. The poet stands “in a cleaner city, better fed”, which shows the city’s progress. Another reference is being made to the significance of the past through the poem’s theme of change. Glasgow’s past will always be remembered, as comparisons will always be made with its present state.
The poet is wearing a tweed, “diced coat” and is therefore a Lewis boy in city clothes. This use of imagery shows that his Calvinist past is so significant, that although he can attempt to forget it through changing his clothes, it will always be a part of him and will always be remembered. The “latest book” he carries is another example of imagery-this shows the significance of his Calvinist past as it was another failing attempt for him to forget his rejection of his mother’s faith.
The poet directly addresses the “dear ghosts” which reinforces the theme of the temporary nature of life that he is attempting to accept. The past of these people is important as their presence can still be felt. Also, the use of “dear” introduces a tender tone – his mother is one of the ghosts therefore he feels incredibly warm towards these past figures. The poet sees Glasgow as a “divided city of green and blue”. This is representative of the divisions that have been made in the city due to the contrasts between Catholic and Protestant and of course the contrast the poet experienced of his mother’s Calvinist religion with his more liberal outlook on life. The theme of continuity is being used as this unpleasant dichotomy still remains in Glasgow to this day and is therefore a vital part of the city’s history. During his search for his mother the poet looks “for her in you” showing his longing and that he is pleading for a sense of closure-another theme of the poem. He still feels guilt for the previous rejection that he made of his mother’s culture showing it is very significant to him. The poet’s “constant aim to find a ghost within a close who speaks in highland Gaelic” is fading. This can be seen through the use of imagery, as the line is fading away with the poet’s hope. The poet is experiencing difficulty to forget his mother’s past and gain a sense of closure, as he will always remember her.
The poet uses a harsh tone when he tells us that “the bulldozer breaks raw bricks to powder”. The resurrection of the city during the building programme was not achieved without pain, which comes out in the use of the word "raw". Glasgow’s previous state is clearly significant as it will always be missed by the inhabitants of the city. Towards the end of the poem Iain Crichton Smith finally accepts that “buildings sail into the future”, and the tone becomes more upbeat showing he has finally accepted that things change. The use of the word “sail” shows confidence and therefore also establishes the optimistic tone. The poet remembers the “old songs you sang”, a symbol of Gaelic culture, which shows that although trends change, the past will always be remembered. In the last line of the poem, the poet reflects on the changes music has experienced over the years, “scale on dizzying scale”. This line is a pun as it reflects on both the pop music that is around at the moment due to the changes music has been through during the years, and also the sheer scale of changes that have occurred. The poet is accepting the changes Glasgow has experienced over the years, and how significant this has been.
In conclusion, “You lived in Glasgow” successfully presents to the reader how significant the past is to everyday life through the poem’s many themes (especially the theme of change and the poet’s struggle to accept this), imagery, and in some aspects, tone. The poet creates a very convincing argument of the importance of the past to readers who cannot help but realise its sheer significance.
Critical Essay
“You lived in Glasgow”
Choose a poem which explores either the significance of the past or the importance of family relationships.
Show how the poet treats the subject, and explain to what extent you find the treatment convincing.
In your answer you must refer closely to the text and to at least two of: theme, imagery, rhyme, tone, or any other appropriate feature.
“You lived in Glasgow”, by Iain Crichton Smith, is a poem in which the poet describes his fruitless search for traces of his deceased mother which takes place in Glasgow. By embarking on this search the poet wishes to achieve a sense of closure due to the guilt he feels because of his rejection of her culture and beliefs. The poem revolves around the central theme of how “the past’s an experience that we cannot share” and in doing so presents how significant the past is. This is achieved by the use of theme, imagery and also tone.
The poet develops this theme by an early shift in tense from past to present as he embarks on the search for the past. This quick change to present tense shows that the poet’s search has been initiated. There is a reference to the great depression-a major aspect of Glasgow’s past, which occurred due to the Wall Street crash. The “dregs” that the poet mentions represent the unemployed in Glasgow as the useless leftovers, unwanted by society and a nuisance that must be dealt with. Here imagery of cigarette ends are produced to create the impression of the ‘dregs of society’, this of course is a reference to The Depression Glasgow was experiencing at this time, which therefore creates a dreary, depressed tone. The image conjured up by the words "dregs" and "fag-ends" is of poverty and hopelessness, of people rejected by society and struggling to survive on what little they have, the “fag ends” also show the use of a colloquial tone. Through the imagery and tone here, the poet shows that aspects of the past still remain in his mind. “A maxi-skirted girl strolls by” and causes memories of the poet’s mother to be stirred. These long skirts obviously remind the poet of his mother who, presumably , never diverted to wearing mini-skirts which preceded longer skirts as a fashion. This shows that the past can still be seen in Glasgow.
One of the main themes of the poem is of the contrast between continuity and change. For example there is a contrast between the “Stone remains” the statues that have remained from the past (and are therefore permanent) and humans who are temporary. These statues are a significant part of the past as they cause this realisation of the temporariness of human life; this is what the poet is attempting to come to terms with during his search. Another symbol of the past which is used are the trams which are “invisible now but to the mind”-showing that their past presence is still remembered. Also, the significance of their past is that they will probably return at some point as part of life’s cycle. The poet remembers that in the past buildings were lit by gaslight and therefore everything was darker, however “now everything is brighter” as lights are powered by electricity – this is also representative of the poet’s new outlook in life which has become more positive. Also, the “pale ghosts” show the importance of past people as their presence can still be felt; this is shown through the suggestion made to the temporary nature of life, which is another theme of this poem.
In the past the poet rejected his mother’s faith and now, years later, he still feels guilty; therefore it must be significant to him. He sees Calvinism as a “black figure” which was devoid of pleasure. The imagery of “the gaslit blue” is that of the dim light of the past, which contrasts with the “fiercer voltage” of today now that we have electricity. This shows the significance of the past as this image of the “gaslit blue” has remained with the poet throughout the years. The poet feels that “The past’s an experience that we cannot share”, an important theme of the poem, perhaps because he feels the past is so important that full recognition cannot possibly be given to it.
In the third stanza imagery of Glasgow’s past is used. The poet remembers the “Flat-capped Glaswegians and the Music Hall”. Images of working-class male Glaswegians are portrayed and of course a reference is made to the previous forms of entertainment which have now vanished, perhaps due to improvements in living standards and changes in technology. These past sights are clearly significant, as they have remained with the poet over the years. Nowadays commercial supermarkets have ruined the personal relationships Glaswegians had with the street traders who sold “apples and oranges on an open stall”. Through this use of the theme of change it can be seen that in the past the stall sellers were a significant part of everyday life. The poet’s memories are “opening and shutting like a parasol” as these memories come and go as things stimulate his mind. This establishes that aspects of the past can still be found in the city of Glasgow.
The poet feels that his mother is a “constant tenant of my tenement”. The harsh tone used by this alliteration suggests the harsh fact that his mother’s presence still exists; this shows the importance of her past. The theme of change is continued through the use of the “pleasant Wildes” which “have now gone in the building programme”. The poet is almost mourning the past sense of community spirit which was destroyed by the changing of the suburban landscape. This reference made to the theme of change shows the significance of Glasgow’s past. The poet stands “in a cleaner city, better fed”, which shows the city’s progress. Another reference is being made to the significance of the past through the poem’s theme of change. Glasgow’s past will always be remembered, as comparisons will always be made with its present state.
The poet is wearing a tweed, “diced coat” and is therefore a Lewis boy in city clothes. This use of imagery shows that his Calvinist past is so significant, that although he can attempt to forget it through changing his clothes, it will always be a part of him and will always be remembered. The “latest book” he carries is another example of imagery-this shows the significance of his Calvinist past as it was another failing attempt for him to forget his rejection of his mother’s faith.
The poet directly addresses the “dear ghosts” which reinforces the theme of the temporary nature of life that he is attempting to accept. The past of these people is important as their presence can still be felt. Also, the use of “dear” introduces a tender tone – his mother is one of the ghosts therefore he feels incredibly warm towards these past figures. The poet sees Glasgow as a “divided city of green and blue”. This is representative of the divisions that have been made in the city due to the contrasts between Catholic and Protestant and of course the contrast the poet experienced of his mother’s Calvinist religion with his more liberal outlook on life. The theme of continuity is being used as this unpleasant dichotomy still remains in Glasgow to this day and is therefore a vital part of the city’s history. During his search for his mother the poet looks “for her in you” showing his longing and that he is pleading for a sense of closure-another theme of the poem. He still feels guilt for the previous rejection that he made of his mother’s culture showing it is very significant to him. The poet’s “constant aim to find a ghost within a close who speaks in highland Gaelic” is fading. This can be seen through the use of imagery, as the line is fading away with the poet’s hope. The poet is experiencing difficulty to forget his mother’s past and gain a sense of closure, as he will always remember her.
The poet uses a harsh tone when he tells us that “the bulldozer breaks raw bricks to powder”. The resurrection of the city during the building programme was not achieved without pain, which comes out in the use of the word "raw". Glasgow’s previous state is clearly significant as it will always be missed by the inhabitants of the city. Towards the end of the poem Iain Crichton Smith finally accepts that “buildings sail into the future”, and the tone becomes more upbeat showing he has finally accepted that things change. The use of the word “sail” shows confidence and therefore also establishes the optimistic tone. The poet remembers the “old songs you sang”, a symbol of Gaelic culture, which shows that although trends change, the past will always be remembered. In the last line of the poem, the poet reflects on the changes music has experienced over the years, “scale on dizzying scale”. This line is a pun as it reflects on both the pop music that is around at the moment due to the changes music has been through during the years, and also the sheer scale of changes that have occurred. The poet is accepting the changes Glasgow has experienced over the years, and how significant this has been.
In conclusion, “You lived in Glasgow” successfully presents to the reader how significant the past is to everyday life through the poem’s many themes (especially the theme of change and the poet’s struggle to accept this), imagery, and in some aspects, tone. The poet creates a very convincing argument of the importance of the past to readers who cannot help but realise its sheer significance.
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
Essay on "You lived in Glasgow"
Hi, sorry I have had so much homework recently! I got my essay on "You lived in Glasgow" back and I got 16 again. However, I thought I would redraft it to try and improve my grade and was wondering if you would help?
Critical Essay
“You lived in Glasgow”
Choose a poem which explores either the significance of the past or the importance of family relationships.
Show how the poet treats the subject, and explain to what extent you find the treatment convincing.
In your answer you must refer closely to the text and to at least two of: theme, imagery, rhyme, tone, or any other appropriate feature.
“You lived in Glasgow”, by Iain Crichton Smith, is a poem in which the poet describes his fruitless search for traces of his deceased mother which takes place in Glasgow. By embarking on this search the poet wishes to achieve a sense of closure due to the guilt he feels because of his rejection of her culture and beliefs. The poem revolves around the central theme of how “the past’s an experience that we cannot share” and in doing so presents how significant the past is. This is achieved by the use of theme, imagery and also tone.
The poem is written in first person and begins in past tense. However this quickly changes to present tense to show that the poet’s search has been initiated. There is a reference to the great depression-a major aspect of Glasgow’s past, which occurred due to the Wall Street crash. The “dregs” which the poet mentions create a sense of imagery and the “fag ends” show the use of a colloquial tone. Through the imagery and tone here, the poet shows that aspects of the past still remain in his mind. “A maxi-skirted girl strolls by” and causes memories of the poet’s mother to be stirred. This shows that the past can still be seen in Glasgow.
One of the main themes of the poem is of the contrast between continuity and change. For example there is a contrast between the “Stone remains”, these statues have remained from the past and are permanent, and humans who are temporary. These statues are a significant part of the past as they cause this realisation of the temporariness of human life; this is what the poet is attempting to come to terms with during his search. Another symbol of the past which is used are the trams which are “invisible now but to the mind”-showing that their past presence is still remembered. Also, the significance of their past is that they will probably return at some point as part of life’s cycle. Change is also embodied as: “now everything is brighter”, shows a reference to the past, which helps to show this change. Also, the “pale ghosts” show the importance of past people as their presence can still be felt; this is shown through the suggestion made to the temporary nature of life, which is another theme of this poem.
The poet still feels guilty about rejecting his mother’s faith years later; therefore it must be significant to him. He sees Calvinism as a “black figure” which was devoid of pleasure. The imagery of “the gaslit blue” is that of the dim light of the past, which contrasts with the “fiercer voltage” of today now that we have electricity. This shows the significance of the past as this image of the “gaslit blue” has remained with the poet throughout the years. The poet feels that “The past’s an experience that we cannot share”, an important theme of the poem, perhaps because he feels the past is so important that full recognition cannot possibly be given to it.
In the third stanza imagery of Glasgow’s past is used. The poet remembers the “Flat-capped Glaswegians and the Music Hall”. These past sights are clearly significant, as they have remained with the poet over the years. Nowadays commercial supermarkets have ruined the personal relationships Glaswegians had with the street traders who sold “apples and oranges on an open stall”. Through this use of the theme of change it can be seen that in the past the stall sellers were a significant part of everyday life. The poet’s memories are “opening and shutting like a parasol” as these memories come and go as things stimulate his mind. This establishes that aspects of the past can still be found in the city of Glasgow.
The poet feels that his mother is a “constant tenant of my tenement”. The harsh tone used by this alliteration suggests the harsh fact that his mother’s presence still exists; this shows the importance of her past. The theme of change is continued through the use of the “pleasant Wildes” which “have now gone in the building programme”. The poet is almost mourning the past sense of community spirit which was destroyed by the changing of the suburban landscape. This reference made to the theme of change shows the significance of Glasgow’s past. The poet stands “in a cleaner city, better fed”, which shows the city’s progress. Another reference is being made to the significance of the past through the poem’s theme of change. Glasgow’s past will always be remembered, as comparisons will always be made with its present state.
The poet is wearing a tweed, “diced coat” and is therefore a Lewis boy in city clothes. This use of imagery shows that his Calvinist past is so significant, that although he can attempt to forget it through changing his clothes, it will always be a part of him and will always be remembered. The “latest book” he carries is another example of imagery-this shows the significance of his Calvinist past as it was another failing attempt for him to forget his rejection of his mother’s faith.
The poet directly addresses the “dear ghosts” which reinforces the theme of the temporary nature of life that he is attempting to accept. The past of these people is important as their presence can still be felt. The poet sees Glasgow as a “divided city of green and blue”. The theme of continuity is being used as this dichotomy still remains in Glasgow to this day and is therefore a vital part of the city’s history. During his search for his mother the poet looks “for her in you” showing his longing and that he is pleading for a sense of closure-another theme of the poem. He still feels guilt for the previous rejection that he made of his mother’s culture showing it is very significant to him. The poet’s “constant aim to find a ghost within a close who speaks in highland Gaelic” is fading. This can be seen through the use of imagery, as the line is fading away with the poet’s hope. The poet is experiencing difficulty to forget his mother’s past and gain a sense of closure, as he will always remember her.
The poet uses a harsh tone when he tells us that “the bulldozer breaks raw bricks to powder”. The resurrection of the city during the building programme was not achieved without pain, which comes out in the use of the word "raw". Glasgow’s previous state is clearly significant as it will always be missed by the inhabitants of the city. Towards the end of the poem Iain Crichton Smith finally accepts that “buildings sail into the future”, and the tone becomes more upbeat showing he has finally accepted that things change. The use of the word “sail” shows confidence and therefore also establishes the optimistic tone. The poet remembers the “old songs you sang”, a symbol of Gaelic culture, which shows that although trends change, the past will always be remembered. In the last line of the poem, the poet reflects on the changes music has experienced over the years, “scale on dizzying scale”. This line is a pun as it reflects on both the pop music that is around at the moment due to the changes music has been through during the years, and also the sheer scale of changes that have occurred. The poet is accepting the changes Glasgow has experienced over the years, and how significant this has been.
In conclusion, “You lived in Glasgow” successfully presents to the reader how significant the past is to everyday life through the poem’s many themes (especially the theme of change and the poet’s struggle to accept this), imagery, and in some aspects, tone. The poet creates a very convincing argument of the importance of the past to readers who cannot help but realise its sheer significance.
I got given comments and aims from my teacher but don't know how to achieve what he is suggesting. He wants me to analyse fully the "dregs" in para 2 and explain fully "now everything is brighter"-both should be ok. Also, in the fourth para I have to "refer to the past directly" and have to explain in what sense the sights of the "flat capped" etc have remained with the poet in para 5. In the second last para Mr Semple has written "destroying past?" which I completely do not understand. His overall comments were:
Your knowledge and understanding of the poem is a strength. Credit is due for remaining focused on the three aspects-theme, imagery and tone-identified in your introduction. Detailed reference to the text has been made too.
· Refer to the past directly at the beginning of each para to show that you are focused.
· Stress the honesty and emotion conveyed by Crichton Smith more.
· Does the past haunt the poet?
But how do I refer to the past at every para without sounding repetitive? Also, I don't know how to do his other suggestions!
Sorry if I am asking you too much, I just want to try and get a higher mark if possible.
SS
Critical Essay
“You lived in Glasgow”
Choose a poem which explores either the significance of the past or the importance of family relationships.
Show how the poet treats the subject, and explain to what extent you find the treatment convincing.
In your answer you must refer closely to the text and to at least two of: theme, imagery, rhyme, tone, or any other appropriate feature.
“You lived in Glasgow”, by Iain Crichton Smith, is a poem in which the poet describes his fruitless search for traces of his deceased mother which takes place in Glasgow. By embarking on this search the poet wishes to achieve a sense of closure due to the guilt he feels because of his rejection of her culture and beliefs. The poem revolves around the central theme of how “the past’s an experience that we cannot share” and in doing so presents how significant the past is. This is achieved by the use of theme, imagery and also tone.
The poem is written in first person and begins in past tense. However this quickly changes to present tense to show that the poet’s search has been initiated. There is a reference to the great depression-a major aspect of Glasgow’s past, which occurred due to the Wall Street crash. The “dregs” which the poet mentions create a sense of imagery and the “fag ends” show the use of a colloquial tone. Through the imagery and tone here, the poet shows that aspects of the past still remain in his mind. “A maxi-skirted girl strolls by” and causes memories of the poet’s mother to be stirred. This shows that the past can still be seen in Glasgow.
One of the main themes of the poem is of the contrast between continuity and change. For example there is a contrast between the “Stone remains”, these statues have remained from the past and are permanent, and humans who are temporary. These statues are a significant part of the past as they cause this realisation of the temporariness of human life; this is what the poet is attempting to come to terms with during his search. Another symbol of the past which is used are the trams which are “invisible now but to the mind”-showing that their past presence is still remembered. Also, the significance of their past is that they will probably return at some point as part of life’s cycle. Change is also embodied as: “now everything is brighter”, shows a reference to the past, which helps to show this change. Also, the “pale ghosts” show the importance of past people as their presence can still be felt; this is shown through the suggestion made to the temporary nature of life, which is another theme of this poem.
The poet still feels guilty about rejecting his mother’s faith years later; therefore it must be significant to him. He sees Calvinism as a “black figure” which was devoid of pleasure. The imagery of “the gaslit blue” is that of the dim light of the past, which contrasts with the “fiercer voltage” of today now that we have electricity. This shows the significance of the past as this image of the “gaslit blue” has remained with the poet throughout the years. The poet feels that “The past’s an experience that we cannot share”, an important theme of the poem, perhaps because he feels the past is so important that full recognition cannot possibly be given to it.
In the third stanza imagery of Glasgow’s past is used. The poet remembers the “Flat-capped Glaswegians and the Music Hall”. These past sights are clearly significant, as they have remained with the poet over the years. Nowadays commercial supermarkets have ruined the personal relationships Glaswegians had with the street traders who sold “apples and oranges on an open stall”. Through this use of the theme of change it can be seen that in the past the stall sellers were a significant part of everyday life. The poet’s memories are “opening and shutting like a parasol” as these memories come and go as things stimulate his mind. This establishes that aspects of the past can still be found in the city of Glasgow.
The poet feels that his mother is a “constant tenant of my tenement”. The harsh tone used by this alliteration suggests the harsh fact that his mother’s presence still exists; this shows the importance of her past. The theme of change is continued through the use of the “pleasant Wildes” which “have now gone in the building programme”. The poet is almost mourning the past sense of community spirit which was destroyed by the changing of the suburban landscape. This reference made to the theme of change shows the significance of Glasgow’s past. The poet stands “in a cleaner city, better fed”, which shows the city’s progress. Another reference is being made to the significance of the past through the poem’s theme of change. Glasgow’s past will always be remembered, as comparisons will always be made with its present state.
The poet is wearing a tweed, “diced coat” and is therefore a Lewis boy in city clothes. This use of imagery shows that his Calvinist past is so significant, that although he can attempt to forget it through changing his clothes, it will always be a part of him and will always be remembered. The “latest book” he carries is another example of imagery-this shows the significance of his Calvinist past as it was another failing attempt for him to forget his rejection of his mother’s faith.
The poet directly addresses the “dear ghosts” which reinforces the theme of the temporary nature of life that he is attempting to accept. The past of these people is important as their presence can still be felt. The poet sees Glasgow as a “divided city of green and blue”. The theme of continuity is being used as this dichotomy still remains in Glasgow to this day and is therefore a vital part of the city’s history. During his search for his mother the poet looks “for her in you” showing his longing and that he is pleading for a sense of closure-another theme of the poem. He still feels guilt for the previous rejection that he made of his mother’s culture showing it is very significant to him. The poet’s “constant aim to find a ghost within a close who speaks in highland Gaelic” is fading. This can be seen through the use of imagery, as the line is fading away with the poet’s hope. The poet is experiencing difficulty to forget his mother’s past and gain a sense of closure, as he will always remember her.
The poet uses a harsh tone when he tells us that “the bulldozer breaks raw bricks to powder”. The resurrection of the city during the building programme was not achieved without pain, which comes out in the use of the word "raw". Glasgow’s previous state is clearly significant as it will always be missed by the inhabitants of the city. Towards the end of the poem Iain Crichton Smith finally accepts that “buildings sail into the future”, and the tone becomes more upbeat showing he has finally accepted that things change. The use of the word “sail” shows confidence and therefore also establishes the optimistic tone. The poet remembers the “old songs you sang”, a symbol of Gaelic culture, which shows that although trends change, the past will always be remembered. In the last line of the poem, the poet reflects on the changes music has experienced over the years, “scale on dizzying scale”. This line is a pun as it reflects on both the pop music that is around at the moment due to the changes music has been through during the years, and also the sheer scale of changes that have occurred. The poet is accepting the changes Glasgow has experienced over the years, and how significant this has been.
In conclusion, “You lived in Glasgow” successfully presents to the reader how significant the past is to everyday life through the poem’s many themes (especially the theme of change and the poet’s struggle to accept this), imagery, and in some aspects, tone. The poet creates a very convincing argument of the importance of the past to readers who cannot help but realise its sheer significance.
I got given comments and aims from my teacher but don't know how to achieve what he is suggesting. He wants me to analyse fully the "dregs" in para 2 and explain fully "now everything is brighter"-both should be ok. Also, in the fourth para I have to "refer to the past directly" and have to explain in what sense the sights of the "flat capped" etc have remained with the poet in para 5. In the second last para Mr Semple has written "destroying past?" which I completely do not understand. His overall comments were:
Your knowledge and understanding of the poem is a strength. Credit is due for remaining focused on the three aspects-theme, imagery and tone-identified in your introduction. Detailed reference to the text has been made too.
· Refer to the past directly at the beginning of each para to show that you are focused.
· Stress the honesty and emotion conveyed by Crichton Smith more.
· Does the past haunt the poet?
But how do I refer to the past at every para without sounding repetitive? Also, I don't know how to do his other suggestions!
Sorry if I am asking you too much, I just want to try and get a higher mark if possible.
SS
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
I've made a few changes and added a bit. I am unsure of what to do with the second sentence. My dad said that before it was a triple negative or something and I have no idea how to fix it.
That day dad had taken us to school-me and my sister. This wasn't such a rare occurrence, occasionally when my mother was at a meeting or seminar. We always hated those days purely as it meant less time in bed-now it seems so petty to have complained about a measly loss of 15 more minutes. My mother had left early to go to Oban or somewhere, I don’t really remember where she was going that day or what for. All I know is that she was travelling in that direction, along the Rest and be Thankful, when it happened. That road was well-known for being treacherously twisty, with no run-off on either side...
It was an odd day, one of those in between sort of days. It was freezing and frosty but the sun was shining, the ice shimmering. At the ring of the school bell signalling the end of lunch, my friends and I began to hurry towards the school, glad for an excuse to get back indoors. I remember seeing my dad standing at the front of the school. We greeted him and he replied. But he seemed elsewhere. Distant.
It’s hard to recall him telling me, but I do remember great confusion. Mum had crashed. The car. Rolled three times. Ended in a ditch. But she was ok. She was fine. Shaken, but not hurt. It was “a miracle”; she’d walked out herself, with barely a scratch and a rip in her tights. I didn’t know what to say, oblivious to the sheer scale of this event. I had no idea what I was expected to say. My dad walked away as I followed the rest of the latecomers up to class.
Despite the shocking news, at the time my main worry was of what my teacher would say when I walked in late. I now realise how insignificant that was when my main concern should have been my mother. I guess that at such an inexperienced age hearing that she wasn't physically hurt put my mind at ease. But what about the emotional hurt? What if she had suffered from nightmares? What if she couldn't face the wheel again? Such thoughts had never entered my mind at the time.
SS
PS-Sorry I have neglected blogging for a while. I've had so much homework and since this essay isn't to be handed in until the 21st, I've been focusing on my homework that is to be handed in before then. I plan to finish writing my essay over the weekend posting it along the way if that's ok?
That day dad had taken us to school-me and my sister. This wasn't such a rare occurrence, occasionally when my mother was at a meeting or seminar. We always hated those days purely as it meant less time in bed-now it seems so petty to have complained about a measly loss of 15 more minutes. My mother had left early to go to Oban or somewhere, I don’t really remember where she was going that day or what for. All I know is that she was travelling in that direction, along the Rest and be Thankful, when it happened. That road was well-known for being treacherously twisty, with no run-off on either side...
It was an odd day, one of those in between sort of days. It was freezing and frosty but the sun was shining, the ice shimmering. At the ring of the school bell signalling the end of lunch, my friends and I began to hurry towards the school, glad for an excuse to get back indoors. I remember seeing my dad standing at the front of the school. We greeted him and he replied. But he seemed elsewhere. Distant.
It’s hard to recall him telling me, but I do remember great confusion. Mum had crashed. The car. Rolled three times. Ended in a ditch. But she was ok. She was fine. Shaken, but not hurt. It was “a miracle”; she’d walked out herself, with barely a scratch and a rip in her tights. I didn’t know what to say, oblivious to the sheer scale of this event. I had no idea what I was expected to say. My dad walked away as I followed the rest of the latecomers up to class.
Despite the shocking news, at the time my main worry was of what my teacher would say when I walked in late. I now realise how insignificant that was when my main concern should have been my mother. I guess that at such an inexperienced age hearing that she wasn't physically hurt put my mind at ease. But what about the emotional hurt? What if she had suffered from nightmares? What if she couldn't face the wheel again? Such thoughts had never entered my mind at the time.
SS
PS-Sorry I have neglected blogging for a while. I've had so much homework and since this essay isn't to be handed in until the 21st, I've been focusing on my homework that is to be handed in before then. I plan to finish writing my essay over the weekend posting it along the way if that's ok?
Thursday, November 02, 2006
Personal/reflective essay
Today in class we had to start our essay, this is what I have so far.
That day dad had taken us to school-me and my sister. It wasn't such a rare occurrence, just on the odd occasion when my mum was at a meeting or seminar. We always hated those days purely as it meant less time in bed-it seems so petty to complain about a measly loss of 15 more minutes. My mum had left early to go to Oban or somewhere, I don’t really remember where she was going that day or what for. All I know is that she was travelling in that direction, along the rest and be thankful, when it happened.
It was an odd day, one of those in between sort of days. It was freezing and frosty but the sun was shining, the ice shimmering. At the ring of the school bell signalling the end of lunch, my friends and I began to hurry towards the school, glad for an excuse to get back indoors. I remember seeing my dad standing at the front of the school. We greeted him and he replied. But he seemed elsewhere. Distant.
It’s hard to recall him telling me, but I do remember great confusion. Mum had crashed. The car. Rolled three times. Ended in a ditch. But she was ok. She was fine. Shaken, but not hurt. It was “a miracle”; she’d walked out herself, with barely a scratch and a rip in her tights. I didn’t know what to say, oblivious to the sheer scale of this event. I had no idea what I was expected to say. My dad walked away as I followed the rest of the latecomers up to class.
SS
That day dad had taken us to school-me and my sister. It wasn't such a rare occurrence, just on the odd occasion when my mum was at a meeting or seminar. We always hated those days purely as it meant less time in bed-it seems so petty to complain about a measly loss of 15 more minutes. My mum had left early to go to Oban or somewhere, I don’t really remember where she was going that day or what for. All I know is that she was travelling in that direction, along the rest and be thankful, when it happened.
It was an odd day, one of those in between sort of days. It was freezing and frosty but the sun was shining, the ice shimmering. At the ring of the school bell signalling the end of lunch, my friends and I began to hurry towards the school, glad for an excuse to get back indoors. I remember seeing my dad standing at the front of the school. We greeted him and he replied. But he seemed elsewhere. Distant.
It’s hard to recall him telling me, but I do remember great confusion. Mum had crashed. The car. Rolled three times. Ended in a ditch. But she was ok. She was fine. Shaken, but not hurt. It was “a miracle”; she’d walked out herself, with barely a scratch and a rip in her tights. I didn’t know what to say, oblivious to the sheer scale of this event. I had no idea what I was expected to say. My dad walked away as I followed the rest of the latecomers up to class.
SS
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
Personal/reflective essays
Hi! Today I got my first higher essay back (which was on Trio) and I got 16 out of 25! I'm quite pleased with that actually-is that a pretty good mark for a first attempt at higher level? Also, today we had to choose what type of essay to write (either argumentative, persuasive, short story etc.) and I thought I would probably be best off going for personal/reflective. Would you mind telling me what makes a good personal/reflective essay and what should be avoided? I felt slightly intimidated by some of the things that were being said in class, ie-implicit and explicit, as most people knew exactly what was being said and understood everything. However, a lot of what was being described was completely new to me. Judging by my past attempts at personal experience are there any pointers you can give me for writing this essay?
Thank you
SS
PS-I was talking to LP today and it would seem that she may be considering blogging again too!
Thank you
SS
PS-I was talking to LP today and it would seem that she may be considering blogging again too!
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