I invite you to explore..."The Jabberwocky," by Lewis Carroll
Below is a poem that caught my eye because it is just--just so fun and bizarre. Once you get over the crazy word choices Carroll uses, you learn about a young boy who must face an awful creature--the Jabberwocky. To be honest, this poem is just another classic tale of hero verses monster. The poem talks about the day the boy is able to slay the jabberwock, and the celebrations come after it. Read it below and enjoy!
The Jabberwocky
(from Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There, 1872)
`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"
He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought --
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.
And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
"And, has thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!'
He chortled in his joy.
`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
Poem Citation: http://www.jabberwocky.com/carroll/jabber/jabberwocky.html
Image Citation: http://miwicz.deviantart.com/art/Spooky-forest-1-163681519
`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"
He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought --
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.
And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
"And, has thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!'
He chortled in his joy.
`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
Poem Citation: http://www.jabberwocky.com/carroll/jabber/jabberwocky.html
Image Citation: http://miwicz.deviantart.com/art/Spooky-forest-1-163681519
My Writer's Notebook Response:
Sample Writer’s Notebook Response:
I have never been very talented at sports, in fact, I think I am probably one of the most uncoordinated people in the world, and I’m pretty sure you need that to be a good athletic. It helps. I decided to do track more for the sake of my father. He was a die-hard sports fan and loved to watch me run, or throw shot and discuss. I was awful. Horrible. I was slow and a weakling, so putting me on a track or having me throw several pounds of metal didn’t fare well.
I distinctly remember a sunny meet in the country and I was going to run the 4 by 4 relay. Running 400 meters usually meant my slow death at 150, and then my ugly struggling for air shuffle over the finish line. My Dad was there, noting the times of the competition, and coming up to me saying, “your time is better! You can do it!” I nodded at my Dad and gave him one of those fake, thanks-for-the-advice-but-you-are-only-making-me-more-nervous smiles.
Bam. I was running. Scared. Frantic. I could hear the girl coming up behind me like a sneaky cheetah after the poor, sad, but cute gazelle. I think I snapped. I was sick of being slow, and losing, so I went for it. I passed the baton right before sneaky cheetah girl and watched as our last two girls raced off and got us the victory. I won! For the first time I wasn’t the girl huffing and puffing at the side. My Dad came up to me and excitedly told me, “good job. I knew you could do it. I knew it!” I couldn’t help but beam.
I have never been very talented at sports, in fact, I think I am probably one of the most uncoordinated people in the world, and I’m pretty sure you need that to be a good athletic. It helps. I decided to do track more for the sake of my father. He was a die-hard sports fan and loved to watch me run, or throw shot and discuss. I was awful. Horrible. I was slow and a weakling, so putting me on a track or having me throw several pounds of metal didn’t fare well.
I distinctly remember a sunny meet in the country and I was going to run the 4 by 4 relay. Running 400 meters usually meant my slow death at 150, and then my ugly struggling for air shuffle over the finish line. My Dad was there, noting the times of the competition, and coming up to me saying, “your time is better! You can do it!” I nodded at my Dad and gave him one of those fake, thanks-for-the-advice-but-you-are-only-making-me-more-nervous smiles.
Bam. I was running. Scared. Frantic. I could hear the girl coming up behind me like a sneaky cheetah after the poor, sad, but cute gazelle. I think I snapped. I was sick of being slow, and losing, so I went for it. I passed the baton right before sneaky cheetah girl and watched as our last two girls raced off and got us the victory. I won! For the first time I wasn’t the girl huffing and puffing at the side. My Dad came up to me and excitedly told me, “good job. I knew you could do it. I knew it!” I couldn’t help but beam.