George The Poet

 Hello, internet. It’s been a while. Year 13 was tough but I’ve done my A levels and am off to university in two weeks. (Yes, I know I’m not mature enough. No, I won’t forget to do my own laundry.)

The thing that inspired me to write today – apart from reading a message from one of my favourite childhood writers, Caroline Lawrence, that she sent over a year ago to tell me she’d read some of this blog – was the fact that on 25th October I will be going to see a George The Poet performance in Cambridge. George The Poet is a spoken word artist from North-West London, where I also live. He went to Queen Elizabeth School in Barnet, where my brother goes, and then to the University of Cambridge to study Politics, Psychology and Sociology.

I think he really is one of my literary idols for a few reasons: firstly, because he uses his poetry to convey real ideas and opinions which many artists do completely fail to achieve; secondly, because his use of language and rhythm and dialect is innovative, gritty and engaging, and manages to portray personality and emotion together whilst maintaining an air that is somehow aloof and cold; and finally, because I am completely obsessed with the spoken-word genre. There is something very inspiring to me about being able to perform one’s own writing. It engages in a different, more experiential way than reading does. That’s not to say that I love it more than reading – but watching a spoken-word performance is often just as intense.

As much as I’d love to go into detail about his philosophies and experience growing up (because most articles online imply that it wasn’t easy), I don’t think I really understand him enough for that. To be honest I just wanted to spread the word about him and show off that I’m going to see him perform. Watch this space: I think, if I have the nerve, that I’ll try to have a chat with him, and he’ll probably be too busy but it would be great to ask questions et cetera. Otherwise I’ll just write a review and tell you how spectacular he was in the flesh.

Here’s a pretty good interview that he did with the Observer in February, which explains more than I can about his educational manifesto: http://www.theguardian.com/books/2013/feb/03/george-the-poet-rappers-power-educate

And here's my favourite of his beat poems. It's about London and I feel that I understand it.

Ithaca

I thought I would write about university open days today as that’s basically all I’ve been doing recently, but that’s boring and seeing as I tortured you with my own writing a few days ago I thought I’d make up for it with someone else’s excellent poetry.

If you know me, then you probably know that I’m a Classics student and am just as obsessed with ancient literature as I am with modern. This poem itself was only written in 1911 by the Greek poet Constantine Cavafy who lived between 1863 and 1933 and spent much of his working life in Alexandria. However, it was inspired by Homer’s epic poem, the Odyssey (if you haven’t read it I really recommend it – it’s fabulously exciting and the Penguin translation isn’t tricky to get through), and the theme of return and voyaging that reoccurs throughout. I love this poem because of the morals it represents: living to enjoy life, living to learn and discover, and defeating one’s inner monsters to become a better person. This is my favourite translation from the original Greek, and it is by one of my most beloved childhood authors, Caroline Lawrence, the genius who taught me that Classics is brilliant through her seventeen hilarious and gripping novels called The Roman Mysteries.



When you set sail for Ithaca
Pray that the journey will be long
Full of adventure, full of discovery.
Don’t be afraid of Scylla and Charybdis.
The sirens and the harpies
And even the Cyclops hold no danger for you.
You won’t find such creatures on your journey
If your thoughts are high and you have a noble motive.
You won’t find such creatures
Unless you erect altars to them in your heart.
Pray that the voyage will be a long one
With many a summer’s evening when,
With such pleasure, such joy,
You enter harbours you have never seen before.
May you visit Phoenician markets and Egyptian ports
To buy pearls, coral, amber, ebony and gems of wisdom.
As you sip heady wines from the west
And inhale sensual perfumes from the east
Always keep Ithaca in mind.
Arriving there is what you are destined for.
Better if the journey lasts for years
So that you are old by the time you drop anchor there,
Wealthy with all that you have learned on the way.
Ithaca will not make you rich.
She gave you your marvellous journey.
She has nothing more to give you.
Without her you would not have set out.
So if you find her poor, it’s not because she fooled you.
You will be so rich with experience
That you will finally understand
What Ithaca really means.