Beowulf Rap

I was going through an old filing cabinet and found something that gave me flashbacks to my English-teaching days—a rap I wrote in 1988 so my 8th graders would understand Beowulf better. Granted some with more literary talent than I possess have done translations, but I figured mine might work for 8th graders. Plus the movie version of Beowulf wouldn't come out until 2007, and even the animated version wasn't available back then:

Anyhow, here's my rap version. If you're an English teacher desperate to get your students more involved, feel free to use it: 

The Beowulf Rap

By Becky Mushko © 1988

Old King Hrothgar built Heorot Hall,

And him and his homeboys had a ball

’Til Grendel came upon the scene.

Man! This dude was big and mean—

Big red eyes, twelve feet tall—

Listen to what I’m tellin’ y’all!

Grendel chowed down on twenty guys—

Only a snack for a dude his size!

Every night he came again

And chomped and crunched up more and more men.

Poor old Hrothgr was reallin illin’

’Cause Grendel really got into killin’.

This went on for twelve years long

Until Mr. Beowulf came along.

Now Beowulf was one cool cat,

And he wondered where old Grendel was at.

A dude named Unferth put him down,

But Beowulf would prove he ain’t no clown.

Hrothgar said, Get it on, Man,

But you got to kill him with your own bare hand!”

They feasted and drank and went to sleep drunk,

And along came Grendel, the ugly punk.

He chomped one dude and slurped his blood

And said to himself, “Mmm-mmm, that’s good!”

But as he reached for another to harm,

Beowulf grabbed him by his arm

And slung him back and forth like a rocket

’Til he ripped his arm right outta its socket.

Grendel ran back to his bloody lake

’Cause he’d had about all that he could take.

Beowulf nailed his arm to the wall,

And they partied and boogied in Heorot Hall.

Hrothgar gave him gold and stuff

’Cause that’s what you get when you’re good and tough.

I hope you understand the poem of Beowulf

’Cause I think I’ve done rapped enough.

I can't guarantee that it'll work, though.

~

April's Gold?

What was going to be short post featuring a picture of the golden buds on my maple tree and Frost’s poem, "Nothing Gold Can Stay," has somehow turned into an English lesson. (I must be experiencing a flashback to my college-teaching days.) Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Warning: Educational content follows.

Nothing Gold Can Stay
by Robert Frost

Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

A really good interpretation of this poem is Dana Gioia’s essay. A really bad interpretation is this piece of crap from a site that some students are tempted to use when they’re too (circle all that apply) stupid/stoned/drunk/dense/lazy/stressed out to write their own essays. And here’s another essay that even mentions the poem’s appearance in S.E. Hinton’s novel, The Outsiders (but it’s still crap). This mediocre one is slightly better, but it costs money.

When I saw the dreadful essay that Fratfiles offers, I couldn’t resist copying* the beginning and adding a few “Evil English Instructor”** comments (in red):

*Since this excerpt is copied for educational purposes, as a derivative work (my added comments take care of that), and not for profit—plus the link to the original the URL is available above, I'm not violating any copyright here. )

Robert Frost has a fine talent for putting words into poetry. [Well, duh!] Words which are normally simplistic spur to life [Huh? “Spur” to life? That’s even worse than “normally simplistic.”] when he combines them into a whimsical [Oh, come on! “Whimsical”???] poetic masterpiece. His “Nothing Gold Can Stay” poem is no exception. [Exception to what?] Although short, it drives home [No doubt in a BMW or perhaps a Porsche] a deep point [as opposed to a shallow point] and meaning [So the meaning isn’t the point?]. Life is such a fragile thing [Wordy. Why not say, “Life is fragile”?] and most of it is taken for granted [Can you prove that?]. The finest, most precious time in life [Which would be what, exactly?] generally passes in what could be the blink of an eye [It “could be,” but is it? And “blink of an eye” is a cliché.] “Nothing Gold Can Stay” shows just this. [Exactly what does it show? Does the demonstrative pronoun this have an antecedent? Do you know what an antecedent is?] Even in such a small poem he describes what would seem an eternity or an entire lifetime [Pick one. “Eternity” and “lifetime” aren’t interchangeable.] in eight simple lines. Change is eminent and will happen to all living things. [And the previous sentence contains a redundancy.] This is the main point of the poem and is shown consistently throughout the eight lines. [Someone’s English instructor failed to teach unity, coherence and emphasis—or else the writer of this flatulent dreck cut class on the day those concepts were taught.]

The sad thing is that the above selection is only part of the 750-word analysis. One can only speculate how bad the rest is. Did the writer continue to say nothing? If so, he could have said it in fewer words?

One of the classic essays taught in many freshman grammar & comp classes is “How to Say Nothing in 500 Words,” by Paul McHenry Roberts. Too many students (and, alas, too many writer wanna-bes ), working under the delusion that “more is better,” say nothing in as many words as possible.

If you haven’t read Roberts’ essay—or you haven’t read it lately—take a look here or here.
And if you loved “How to Say Nothing in 500 Words,” you’ll love this blog post about it:

OK. My English-teaching flashback has passed. You can go back to your ordinary lives now. Don't worry—there won't be a quiz.

The new leaves on the pin oak are also gold.

** I am a fan of Evil Editor.

~