{"id":1793,"date":"2014-10-16T09:38:25","date_gmt":"2014-10-16T09:38:25","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/warpoets.org.uk\/splashpage\/?page_id=1793"},"modified":"2014-10-16T09:50:40","modified_gmt":"2014-10-16T09:50:40","slug":"mud-trenches","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/warpoets.org.uk\/splashpage\/resources\/for-teachers\/mud-trenches\/","title":{"rendered":"Mud \/ Trenches"},"content":{"rendered":"

Mud<\/h2>\n

\u2018He got back into the trench towards the dug-out, skating in the sticky mud. The duckboards were completely sunk in it. In the whole affair it was the slippery mud he hated most.\u2019<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

A Man Could Stand Up<\/em>, p. 78 Ford Madox Ford, Carcanet Press<\/p>\n

Trenches<\/h2>\n

\u2018There were all these inscrutable beings: the Other Ranks, a brownish mass, spreading underground, like clay strata in the gravel, beneath all this waving country that the sun would soon be warming: they were in holes, in tunnels, behind sackcloth curtains, carrying on\u2026carrying on some sort of life: conversing, breathing, desiring. But completely mysterious, in the mass\u2026.\u2019<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Compare this picture from Ford\u2019s novel, p. 94, with Wilfred Owen\u2019s \u2018Futility\u2019.<\/p>\n

Move him into the sun—
\nGently its touch awoke him once,
\nAt home, whispering of fields half-sown.
\nAlways it woke him, even in France,
\nUntil this morning and this snow.
\nIf anything might rouse him now
\nThe kind old sun will know.<\/p>\n

Think how it wakes the seeds—
\nWoke once the clays of a cold star.
\nAre limbs, so dear achieved, are sides
\nFull-nerved, still warm, too hard to stir?
\n—O what made fatuous sunbeams toil
\nTo break earth’s sleep at all?<\/p>\n

How effective is Owen\u2019s use of the farming year as a background to this soldier\u2019s death?<\/p>\n

Futility<\/strong>: This item is from The First World War Poetry Digital Archive, University of Oxford (www.oucs.ox.ac.uk\/ww1lit<\/a>); \u00a9 The Estate of Wilfred Owen. The Complete Poems and Fragments of Wilfred Owen <\/em>edited by Jon Stallworthy first published by Chatto Windus, 1983. Preliminaries, introductory, editorial matter, manuscripts and fragments omitted.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Mud \u2018He got back into the trench towards the dug-out, skating in the sticky mud. The duckboards were completely sunk in it. In the whole affair it was the slippery mud he hated most.\u2019 A Man Could Stand Up, p. 78 Ford Madox Ford, Carcanet Press Trenches \u2018There were all these inscrutable beings: the Other  Continue Reading »<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":7,"featured_media":0,"parent":817,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","template":"template-resources.php","meta":{"ngg_post_thumbnail":0},"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\t\n