A Skittle of Milk

Robin   Thu Sep 21, 2006 2:10 pm GMT
This is an explanation of why a 'Native Speaker' can be an Asset to a Class learning English as a Foreign Language.

I am an Englishman living in Aberdeen Scotland, and with out giving away my age, I am a mature student. I am studying 'English' at the Higher level.

This is a course that I have put off doing for a number of years. I did not want to do this course for a number of reasons.

1. As an English person, I did not need to study English.

English at Higher level is required in Scotland, if you want to teach. English at 'A' level, which is the equivalent English examination, is not required if you wish to teach.

(When you have hear Scottish people speak, you will realise how important it is for them to study English.)

2. This course would only be a stepping stone to something else, it was not something that I was interested in.

3. I do not want to study Scottish literature and Scottish authors.

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Anyway, I have started the course now, and I am enjoying it, and getting a lot out of it. Also, just as when I was in Poland, I suddenly realise, that I have got something inside my head, that is of value.

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We did a poem in class, in which the author described a "Skittle of Milk", when describing the thoughts and feelings of a Primary School child.

A little bit of history now. Before Margaret Thatcher came to power, school children in both Primary and Secondary School were provided with Free School Milk, in the mid morning break. "Margaret Thatcher - Milk Snatcher" abolished this practice.

So, that bit of information allows you to date the poem.

The Teacher of my English class then went onto say, that when she was at school, the milk either came in waxed paper containers (tetrapaks) or plastic bags. So, the image of a 'bottle of milk' would not come up for her. (When school milk came in bottles, the bottles were a third of the size of a standard 'pint' bottle.)

However, I remember bottles of milk, I can also remember some naughty boys playing skittles with empty milk bottles.

SKITTLES: For the Scottish students in the class, the word 'Skittle' was the name of a type of sweet that came in a plastic bag; 'A bag of skittles'.

I grew up near Manchester, but later on I moved to Bristol, in the West Country. I was familiar with 'Ten Pin Bowling', and when I moved to Bristol I was interested to see that several of the Pubs had 'Skittle Alleys'. So, the game of skittles, is very similar to ten pin bowling, except that you have nine skittles, and it is not 'a totally automated American Experience.'

So the expression a 'Skittle of Milk' had a meaning for me, that it did not have for the Scottish students in the class.

Even though you can look up a word in the dictionary, to get a real feel for English and how English people view the world, you have to have the real thing.
Uriel   Thu Sep 21, 2006 7:43 pm GMT
Well, I thought I had the real thing, but "skittle of milk" is meaningless to me....
Rick Johnson   Thu Sep 21, 2006 10:16 pm GMT
Meaningless to me also except for in a metaphorical sense!
Robin   Thu Sep 21, 2006 11:30 pm GMT
OK, it is meaningless

and it is metaphorical.

That is English Literature for you !!!
Guest   Fri Sep 22, 2006 6:06 am GMT
<Well, I thought I had the real thing, but "skittle of milk" is meaningless to me....>

Well for me a 'skittle' of milk is basically a basket device that holds 6 bottles of milk and lefted outside your postbox by the good old milkman - Much like the skittle arrangement of the bowls at a bowling alley.

Often I would order a skittle of milk which means half a dozen of milk. (Each a litre each or a pint back in the old days.)
Robin   Fri Sep 22, 2006 8:33 am GMT
I did a Google search on "a skittle of milk" and this is what I came up with: the poem we studied in class.

http://www.channel4.com/learning/microsites/A/arrows_of_desire/programme5_one.html

CAROL ANN DUFFY (1955–present)
In Mrs Tilscher's Class


You could travel up the Blue Nile
with your finger, tracing the route
while Mrs Tilscher chanted the scenery.
Tana. Ethiopia. Khartoum. Aswan.
That for an hour, then a skittle of milk
and the chalky Pyramids rubbed into dust.
A window opened with a long pole.
The laugh of a bell swung by a running child.

This was better than home. Enthralling books.
The classroom glowed like a sweetshop.
Sugar paper. Coloured shapes. Brady and Hindley
faded, like the faint, uneasy smudge of a mistake.
Mrs Tilscher loved you. Some mornings, you found
she'd left a gold star by your name.
The scent of a pencil slowly, carefully, shaved.
A xylophone's nonsense heard from another form.

Over the Easter term the inky tadpoles changed
from commas into exclamation marks. Three frogs
hopped in the playground, freed by a dunce,
followed by a line of kids, jumping and croaking
away from the lunch queue. A rough boy
told you how you were born. You kicked him, but stared at your parents, appalled, when you got back home.

That feverish July, the air tasted of electricity.
A tangible alarm made you always untidy, hot,
fractious under the heavy, sexy sky. You asked her
how you were born and Mrs Tilscher smiled,
then turned away. Reports were handed out.
You ran through the gates, impatient to be grown,
as the sky split open into a thunderstorm.


Activities
1 The poem is written in the second person. From whose point of view is it written? Is it the poet's own view or anyone's? How do you know?

2 How would you describe this poem? Is it written in regular stanzas, with rhyme scheme and regular metre, or variations on these?

3 Highlight one metaphor and one simile from the poem.
Uriel   Fri Sep 22, 2006 7:55 pm GMT
Well, I learn something new every day. I only knew of the candy called Skittles, and I had thought that was a made-up name.
sanspeur   Tue Dec 05, 2006 7:54 pm GMT
Does anyone have a reference to the term 'skittle' used for a part of the keel of a (wooden) ship?