Novel into verse (Renamed ''Things That Scared You Shitless as a Child... or Since"
 

Brief explanation: Mark's brilliant "Novel into Verse", below, was impossible to match, so the thread swung into a new direction. Let's have some fun with it!
Jayne

I teach secondary/high school English (11 - 16 year olds). We were reading bits of 'To Kill A Mockingbird' last year — didn't have time for the whole book because it unfortunately isn't actually on the syllabus. I wrote this for the students, as a little synopsis thing really, and I quite enjoyed writing it. Has anyone else done this sort of thing? As a drill? Or an amusement? (I realise mine isn't exactly funny...)



To Kill a Mockingbird

This tired old town of Southern grace
holds hidden secrets at its core.
You don't walk past the Radley place,
you run to reach your own front door.

Through eyes of childhood, worlds unfold,
Boo Radley's presence stalks the night.
His shadow makes your blood run cold.
Let's drag him blinking to the light!

So Scout and Jem and little Dill
conceive their schemes with wild surmise,
while Atticus observes them still,
through widowed heart and kindly eyes.

In summer evening sidewalk games
the children exorcise their fears.
A shadow of the truth remains
through pantomime of haunted years.

But greater crime infests the town,
exposes rotten heart and bone.
The girl grows up, a man's sent down,
condemned by race and skin alone.

She thinks of Tom, she thinks of Boo,
their innocence had beat them down.
And Atticus's words ring true,
she sees beyond the tired old town:

"In shooting bluejays take your part
But don't forget this thing you've heard.
Because they sing from purest heart
'Tis sin to kill a mockingbird".

Wow, Mark - not a lot short of brilliant. I hope they appreciated what a stonking teacher they've got. The idea is now just going to itch away in my, and I suspect other's, heads. What a neat way to promote interest in either a book too little appreciated by your audience - or one too little regarded by the general reading public. Tricky not to do a spoiler though.... there, perhaps, is the rub. However, respect for your (to me) pioneering effort.

That is a tour de force, Mark!

I haven't turned a novel into verse, but I have done a film... the utterly creepy, disturbing short Spanish film from 1972 (35 minutes long) called La Cabina. You can watch it on Youtube here, ...if you dare!!!

It's about a phone box in a town square, in which a man gets trapped... I'm going to give myself nightmares tonight now, just by mentioning this :eek:
Has anyone seen it? My husband and a friend of his are the only two people I have ever come across (so far) who have!!

I wrote a poem relating the gory story, but a quick search of My Documents has failed to turn it up at the moment. It's not what you're after, anyway, but it's close. If there aren't many takers for novels into verse, ...if I can find it, ...if anyone else has a film poem... perhaps we can have some of those?

Jayne

Remarkable, Mark! Though not on the syllabus, could you put the book on reserve or some such--maybe for "extra credit" ?

I summarized the life and adventures of Mary Fields first in a 120 page screenplay, summarized it for an article, and for this venue, summarized it into a sonnet. (Did half of the screenplay as a terza rima epic and burned out!). Here's the sonnet again:

Stagecoach Mary Fields

c. 1832-1914

Just like the storied cowboys of the plains,
Mary finds Montana wild and free.
A liberated slave from Tennessee,
she’s odd in white Cascade, where cigar stains
on six-foot girls are rare. And she retains
her modesty, a shotgun keeping louts at bay.
The liberal mayor lets her drink and play
at cards in his saloon. She masters reins
to beat out angry men for stagecoach routes,
a first for women, making rounds when sun
sears and wind chafes. She wins those bouts,
protects the mail. With laughs and whiskey breath,
she tells of facing wolves one nighttime run
through snow—her knife and shotgun beating death.

Thanks you three! Oh, I'm glad it works! It was hard to tell from my students' reaction, Nigel. They didn't stand on the chairs or anything a la 'Dead Poet's Society'. They do sometimes stand on their chairs, but it's not in tribute to my stonkingness, unfortunately.

Cheers Ralph, I remember that tale from the first time. It's great.

Jayne!! Oh Wow! Not only have I seen it, but it absolutely haunted my childhood! For years I had images from that film stuck in my head until I wasn't sure if I even dreamed it. Didn't know its name, didn't even remember it was Spanish (there's hardly any dialogue is there, as I recall). When I finally got online in the early 00s one of the first things I did was to try to solve all these little mysterious itches from my childhood by researching them: scraps of playground rhymes, old comic books, TV shows. This film was one of my main itches. It turns out La Cabina was on BBC2 on the 25th July 1981, so I'd have been 9. Sounds about right. I have watched it again on youtube since. Still really good. Very Spanish surreal in that Bunuelesque way. Between that and 'Hammer House of Horror' I was warped before I was in double figures. I watched far too much telly as a child, and now hardly ever.

I'd love to read the poem!

Yes, Jayne - let's see it, if you can find it. My first thought was "Oh, dear, what can the matter be..." (see my contribution to the "bad at" thread by way of an excuse - and apology). I will watch the film, as penance.

And Mark, I hope that poem can have a permanent place in front of a wider audience. It deserves one.
.

Just finished watching La Cabina. What a great movie! The things we come across on the 'Sphere...

Sorry, no movies or novels into verse on my end, though I have a poem about a movie that gave me nightmares as a kid, the really bad Nostradamus "documentary" hosted by Orson Welles near the end of his life, The Man Who Saw Tomorrow.

Hi Mark,
Wahey!! I'll soon have a whole load of other people who know what I'm on about when I mention La Cabina. I'm too nervous to watch it again though, as I know the ending will freak me out ...AGAIN!

If I've accidentally deleted the poem I think I might have a hard copy of it somewhere... among mountains of assorted paperwork, old teaching materials, course notes, exam papers... Heck, I'll have to start rummaging, and ruthlessly chucking stuff out!

I'm glad you enjoyed the film, Andrew. I'm just going to have a look at your link now (feeling brave).

Jayne

It doesn't hold up nearly as well as 'La Cabrina.' In fact, it's just sad to see the state of Welles, though as a child the predictions terrified me beyond belief.

Well, thanks for reminding me of it. Jayne. I just finished watching it with my Y10 English group as an alternative to doing any actual work in this heatwave. They loved it, once I explained what a telephone box was.

Reading the youtube comments now, its fascinating to see how many people had a 'saw it once/scarred my childhood' experience similar to mine.

Glad you enjoyed it too Andrew. What was this thread about again? ;)

Late edit: thanks Ann!

Sorry for derailing the thread, Mark, but there can't be many of us who've turned a novel into a poem, or so it appears. You're the Gold Medallist!

But it's clear that watching La Cabina is a life-changing experience! Will your students be saying something like this in twenty or thirty years' time:

"One very hot June day, way back in 2018, we watched a film that scared us shitless. Thank goodness those "phone box" things all disappeared by 2022; I would never have gone inside one!"

Jayne

No, no. No apologies needed Jayne, I was being my usual flippant self. Since my poem seems to be a one-off (I was going to say 'sui generis' but my pretention alarm went off) maybe you could move the thread to GT and rechristen it 'Things That Scared You Shitless As A Child'. Much more fun!

Edit: Whether it's apocryphal I don't know, but I read that after it was first shown on Spanish TV, people noticeably began wedging a foot into the door of the phone box...:)

Mark, Now look what you've spawned : )

Looking forward to checking out La Cabina and Andrew's The Man Who Saw Tomorrow.

My life was changed by reading "Mockingbird". No doubt you've encapsulated it here in verse and yes, I vote that it show up at the top of every google about the book.

Extra credit to those students who memorize and recite aloud your versified Mockingbird. (Brilliant teaching Mark.)

Heehee. I think that's a great idea, Mark. I'm just about to do it (with a short explanation).

Jayne

Oh, wait a minute... I won't be able to post my poem (if I find it, that is) on a GT thread, and no one else can post their own work either, should they wish to.

Shall I just change the name of this one?

Jayne

'Poems About Novels (Incorporating Things That Used To Scare You Shitless)'? Bit random haha. Your call Jayne :)

Cheers Jim.

Jim,
I hope La Cabina doesn't scare you shitless! ;)

So, folks, what scared the pants off you in your childhood... or since?

Jayne

So, this is very 'niche'

Hammer House of Horror wrecked my childhood.
Saturday nights. The 80s just begun.
Even Madness couldn't make me feel good,
and this was anything but a House of Fun.

Doppelgängers, voodoo dolls and witches,
crash-zooms, shrieks and blood-stained party food.
And Diana Dors, smiling, dropping stitches,
indulgent of her sullen lupine brood.


Edit: Jayne's 'brief explanation' emblazoned in red at the top of this thread is very flattering but I'm sure not true. I bet there are more 'novels into verse' out there, apart from reductionist funny limericks etc. And if there aren't it's more likely because it's a bit of a daft idea than anything else.

I'm not afraid of nothing, I would peep
Up in my childhood. And yet, in the tourist town
Of Brighton once, I swam out past the pier
And felt a panic seize me. I saw clear
Through that grey roiling water, further down
Than where the sharks swam, to the alien deep.

John,

Apart from the awkward rhyme and enjambment of peep/up that's a better rhyming poem than the one you currently have on met.

Hey Mark,

Yup, but it's still not popular song. That's a whole nother thing. Thanks for the endorsement - my rhyming verse tends to pop up here. :-)

Cheers,
John

Stupid joke erased.

Hi Erik,

I'm not sure I want a 'What Mark said' in this spirit. I wasn't trying to 'own' John, in that horrible new usage of the word. Believe it or not I was just trying to be honest. And nice.

Apology for Unthinking Fumble
 

Mea culpa!

Attempting to agree, I did a wrong
in a split sec—regretted all day long:
I botched some pun sans thought or due concern,
as if resolved to see me crash and burn.
You called me out. Me? I say you are right.
What is it can I do? No more to write
before my morning coffee groggily!
As owed, I give all my apology.

I've added ''...or since" to the thread title, because the stuff that has scared us doesn't have to have been when we were children.

I'm not the least bit frightened of spiders, snakes or mice, so I'm not exactly a wimp, but "Chucky" freaks me out.

And I hate clowns ever since I saw Stephen King's "IT". (I haven't seen the new version. Maybe I am a wimp after all!)

Jayne

Hey Mark, Annie, Andrew, Jim et al,

I have found a very old hard copy of my poem about La Cabina and I now know it definitely isn't on my computer, so I'm going to have to type it out. It's 1am though, and I need my bed, so I'll do it tomorrow night as I'll be out all day.

Jayne

Excellent Jayne, let's have it.

Worry not, Erik, I'm no stranger to bad jokes either. ;)

La Cabina poem
 

One of the scariest short films ever made. La cabina (The Telephone Box) is a 1972 film directed by Spanish director Antonio Mercero, and written by him and José Luis Garci.

Well here it is; one of my very earliest poems. If you haven't watched La Cabina yet, don't read on because this is a Spoiler Alert.

While watching TV late one night,
and being on my own,
a certain film gave me a fright;
a man went to a phone
which stood inside a busy square –
a common sight, no doubt,
but passers-by began to stare
when he could not get out.
The phone box door had gently shut
but then had jammed so tight,
the poor man pushed and shoved it, but
could not improve his plight.

A crowd had gathered round him now,
who found this scene great fun.
There had to be a way, somehow,
to get that door undone.
A lot of people pulled and tugged
– the whole thing seemed so daft! –
but one by one they left and shrugged,
while others stood and laughed.
No way was this a comedy;
my flesh began to creep.
This kind of film can easily
deprive you of your sleep.

I wondered what would happen next.
This poor man’s out of luck;
we see him getting really vexed,
and then a pick-up truck
appears. Two workmen take the box,
complete with man inside
(who’s in for further nasty shocks!);
they take him on a ride
right through the city, mile by mile.
At every car they pass
he pleads for help, and all the while
he’s pounding at the glass.

And then, beside them on the road,
you see another truck,
a phone box also for a load,
in which a man is stuck.
It turns out there are many more;
the victims all look scared.
They can’t imagine what’s in store
– we’re also unprepared,
but don’t have very long to wait,
and though we’re not told why,
we realise these poor men’s fate
is that they’re going to die.

The horror’s full extent’s revealed:
they’re taken to a cave,
where, inside, cunningly concealed,
there is a vile mass grave,
the people just left there to rot
in phone booths. Dozens dead,
and through this film’s duration, not
one single word is said.
I can’t remember what it’s called;
I think it came from Spain.
Although it left me quite appalled,
I’d watch it through again!

Just thirty minutes’ worth, it was,
some twenty years ago.
I’ve told you all about it ’cos
I simply do not know
of anyone who saw it too.
It can’t be only me!
So if it rings a bell with you
and you say, “I did see
that grisly film you’ve talked about,”
I really would be glad,
for that would prove, without a doubt,
that I’m not going mad!

When I first met my husband, I was thrilled to discover that, at last, I'd met someone else who had seen the film. (That wasn't the only reason we ended up married, but it may have helped! ;))

Jayne

Nice one Jayne, that is a lot of fun. Funny how you say

'and through this film’s duration, not
one single word is said.'

My recollection was of a virtually silent film too, but watching again there's actually a fair bit of dialogue, especially in the first half. Aren't you tempted to revisit the phone box!?

Does the director have any links to animal activism I wonder?

Lab Cabina was indeed scary, though I find it less scary than the thrall in which mobile phones now hold most children.

Television during the 1970s and 1980s in Britain had, particularly during the day, an atmosphere now long vanished. Films like La Cabina were shown without explanation, there were bulletins for those in the television trade which fascinated because not aimed at you the casual viewer, there was the psychedelic music of the test card, there were the programmes of the Open University. . .

My irrational fear, incidentally, is seaweed.