segunda-feira, 25 de abril de 2011

O Captain! My Captain!

Page of the poem where Whitman made some changes and notes.
Source: Wikipedia

The poem O Captain! My Captain! by Walt Whitman is emblematic in the movie Dead Poet's Society. It is the way the teacher John Keating asks his students to call him. It is a kind of metaphor to his approach, once he does not act as a "conventional" teacher... His work was a kind of guidance, seeking for what every teacher should: to make the student be passionate for the subject, to make them really understand and love it, to make a difference in the students life, to prepare them to life and to teach, besides the program, to keep trying to be happy because it is all what life is about. So, more than a teacher he is a Captain, who guides the students through the beautiful, deep but turbulent and stormy sea of life and of art, in this particular case.
In the end of the movie, the students show their gratitude and support for the teacher screaming the title of the poem when he is fired for "anarchy" , just because he showed life is more than social conventions, than models, than what someone else said it should be. Life is what you built and dream for it.

P.S. Instersting to notice that poetry is so strongly represented in the figure of the teacher that his name is a kind of verb... a clear reference to John Keats. The teacher is doing poetry all the time... he is John Keating!!!!!!

O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done;The ship has weathered every rack, the prize we sought is won;The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills;For you bouquets and ribboned wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding;For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head;
It is some dream that on the deck,
You’ve fallen cold and dead.
My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still;My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will;The ship is anchored safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object won;
Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!
But I, with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.

And that's all, Folks!!!!
Bárbara Prado

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