Wednesday, 8 September 2010

Reeds of cheerfulness

The eldest started school this week and seems totally unfazed by the whole experience. Cucumber cool. It's almost disconcerting - is he already a blasé little Londoner?

I have to admit to feeling a bit wistful. I stumbled across some lovely lines by Jon Silkin yesterday, which seemed to suit:
The young boy shoves off for lunch, whistling -
his little pipes, the unbroken larynx, are reeds
of cheerfulness, earth for him so much down,
fluff, a mantle, on the bellowing cheeks.

It's from a poem called The Winter Bees, which has flashes of beauty whilst being generally impenetrable, much like these lines. I can't find it online so may post it some time.

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

I was as “cool as cucumber” on my first day at school. I can remember it vividly, sitting in the classroom with my colouring book watching my wailing classmates being dragged in by their mothers. Why all the fuss? We will soon be going home again. True of course, but then as I was taken back the next day and the next, I began to realise the true enormity of the injustice being forced upon me. I can remember the anger I felt as I learned that I HAD to go to school. Who said I HAD to go to school? My freedom was being taken away from me and I felt suffocated and outraged, feelings that stayed with me until the day I left. This is also I day I remember vividly. Walking out the gates, turning round for one last look and slowly raising two fingers.

Gaw said...

Thanks for the memories!

As for the young man, he's been going to nursery since before he can remember so I suspect he takes it for granted that you attend some sort of institution outside the home on a regular basis. Or perhaps it's just a matter of time before the disillusionment sets in.

Brit said...

I loved primary school. I starred in the football and cricket teams, most of the lessons seemed to be music, art or reading Wind in the Willows and I didn't care one way or the other what girls thought of me. The only flies in its ointment were a couple of psychopathic teachers, who in this day and age be sacked and clapped in irons before they could so much as fling a cricket ball at your head.

Secondary school was a different matter of course, but until then, with any luck Gaw Jnr Major is in for a treat.

Gaw said...

I've just remembered I posted on my own primary school days, also idyllic:

http://gawragbag.blogspot.com/2010/05/dream-venues.html

I have to confess I loved secondary school as well. I attended a rambling, rambunctious comp which gave one quite a bit of latitude. In fact, I think the sixth form was one of the periods of my life when I felt most free.

Brit said...

Oh yes, i loved 6th form. It was that awkward adolescent bit between then and being the biggest fish in the primary school pond that was such a drag.