Tags » Wilfred Owen

A Century Destroyed: The Legends of the Great War (Part 2)

By Michael Stelzer Jocks, History Faculty.

I have always been intrigued by the First World War.

On second thought, perhaps ‘intrigued’ is not quite the right word. 813 more words

'The Summer of '69' or "what I call " 2014 ...

Being the organised and professional teacher I am, I have not brought home the SUPER 7 tasks I have set for the summer !

However ! 669 more words

Wilfred Owen and 'Private Peaceful'

The similar themes and devices of Michael Morpurgo (in the film adaptation of ‘Private Peaceful’) & Wilfred Owen’s poetry.


In ‘Private Peaceful’ we can see the main characters experience a loss of faith, Tommo near the beginning when in the prison cell says “Why does this war happen”, he also feels bitter because his father died and he feels that if God was just he wouldn’t have allowed that to happen. 588 more words

English Literature

'The heartbeat of who we are': Jeanette Winterson on war, wealth and creativity

Jeanette Winterson

She began with Dorothy Wordsworth walking the Lakeland fells in May 1800 and continued by way of Karl Marx, prehistoric cave painting, James Hargreaves’ spinning jenny, Thomas Piketty’s… 1,055 more words

Ideas And Politics

This is , as they say , it: Review: Only Remembered, ed by Michael Murpurgo

Michael Murpurgo, Only Remembered.

Powerful words and pictures about the war that changed our world.

Marketed by it’s publishers as a book for children and young adults, … 291 more words


Just a sec while we get caught up...

On June 19th I flew –in an airplane– to a different part of the world with a 10 lb. overweight suitcase, a weird 14 hour long audiobook fiction story about ancient magic I downloaded mostly to fall asleep to, my always lovely mother, and a healthy dose of anxiety.   271 more words

Christopher Hitchens Recites From Memory Wilfred Owen's Great Anti-War Poem, "Dulce et Decorum est"

The great Hitch reciting Owens.


And here’s the text of the poem from 1917 or 1918:

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,

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