Whenever we have talked about war poetry in literature we have talked about soldiers, death and weapons, yet we never have a look at the testimonies of soldiers, about the hardships of war. I remember that about two years ago, three men came to our school to talk about the Falkland Islands war between Argentina and England. One of them was Argentinean and the other two were British. I remember clearly how the Argentine man explained how Argentina has never been a violent country and that is why we have never been prepared for war, whereas England has been at war for the last century, except for just one. Moreover, I could understand how it was that these three men were friends, even after thirty years after the war, and them being in the opposite ends of war. This is because soldiers are just sent to war, but the ones who declare war are not the ones who put their lives at risk and got to the battlefield.
For this story I didn’t have much idea of what I could do, then I realised I had not yet employed my artistic intelligence into the portfolio so I decided it was about time.
In the collage, I added three photos, as the number 3 in the story is key, and that’s why there is a faded 3 in the most gothic font I found in the collage maker. The setting of the story is in autumn, the season of death and destruction, and a feature of gothic literature. Moreover, I added a woman as women are the main characters of the story. Lastly, I continued with the setting and added a picture of dark and gloomy hills to go on with the gothic theme.
When we talk we usually refer to a house and a home as different places. The Cambridge dictionary defines a house as a building that people, usually one family, live in. Whereas it defines home as someone’s or something’s place of origin, or the place where a person feels they belong. Therefore, we can see how a home is a place which one has an emotional attachment to. That is why we don’t usually say that our home is sad, as Philip Larkin does in his poem as homes are meant to be a place where one feels safe and comfortable and happy. One is not meant to be depressed or sad at their homes, and if they do then it probably means that something is not working there and you should look for somewhere else to call home.
After I found this image while browsing the internet I understood another meaning of home. Home is a place where one feels safe, happy, comforted, relaxed and something you care about.
Moreover, I also really liked a picture Juana has in her post about this poem.
In the poem «Rooms», Charlotte Mew tells us that her room is a space where she can’t get out off. I believe that this means that there is something inside the room which doesn’t let her get out. Maybe some toy of her childhood of a picture of one of her dead siblings. She might feel that if she leaves the bedroom she might never be able to get back inside, therefore she will forget of her family. Maybe for poetic reasons she uses a room to describe this, but in reality it is her mind. She still carries the thought of her dead relatives and that stops her from moving on. She had traumas because of death and loneliness, so she might have felt that the only company she would ever have would be the memories of her family. Therefore, she deciding to close herself and not show any interest or capacity to meet new people is not a cause of her loneliness but a consequence.