Episode 234: Stratford-upon-Avon Poetry Festival

Have failed to revise anything so far, but that will change tomorrow. I find it impossible to believe that I can't read something on a day when I have only one seminar in the morning! French oral went swimmingly, although after a few minutes, I'm pretty sure my conjugation went out the window and I was liberally scattering franglais throughout my conversation, partly because I was trying to talk about politics and I didn't have the necessary vocabulary for the task. I think things went well overall though. At the very least, Louise seemed interested, which apparently is one of the criteria on which we are assessed, i.e. our ability to retain the examiner's interest. Headed back to the Library, and Laura, Lucy and Sophie were still where I left them half an hour earlier, but Dan had already left. Doubled back to Bar Fusion to borrow Keegan's card and get some more books out, this time for EN123 revision. Am pretty much set on revising only the poets and playwrights on the module, as most of the novels don't do anything for me. To be fair, I haven't actually read them, so it's not like I'm making an informed decision, but in the first place, they aren't authors I'd voluntarily read!

After some dithering in my room, essentially wasting time that could have been spent re-reading Sir Gawain And The Green Knight, I headed to the CAPITAL Centre for two poetry readings, as part of the Stratford-upon-Avon Poetry Festival. The first featured young poets from Birmingham, Northampton, East Anglia and Warwick. Couldn't quite make out some of the readings, but those that I did, I liked. I particularly liked George Ttoouli's poems! The second reading saw the poets who teach them taking the stage, so Luke Kennard, Zoë Brigley and George Szirtes respectively. I enjoyed all three, but was particularly drawn to the latter two because of their specific literary interests. Kennard's work isn't the sort that I would naturally be drawn to, I have to admit. Then I was off to our usual Varsity session, although I sort of told Jack I would follow the creative writers to The Dirty Duck. It was drizzling today! The kind of miserable trickling that is more suited to autumn than spring. What is wrong with English weather, seriously? Is a little consistency too much to ask for at this time of year?