Life Lines

A Shared Reading activity pack

to read wherever you are
Issue 72

For more Shared Reading, poems and texts,

email us at: coronavirus@thereader.org.uk
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 " INSERT QUOTE FROM STORY OR POEM HERE.”

Title, Author

The Reader is a charity which usually brings people together

to listen to stories, extracts and poems in free, weekly
Shared Reading groups. In these Life Lines activity packs we
hope to offer everyone the same comfort, meaning and
connection through great literature that our reading groups
provide – wherever it finds you.
Each Life Lines pack will bring you some of a story and a
poem, which you can read in your own time. Along with the
reading, you’ll find a selection of thoughts and feelings
shared by other fellow readers about the chosen pieces. We
suggest that reading the poem or the story out loud is a
great way to fully immerse yourself in the reading experience
and discover your own personal connections with the
material. It may feel strange but it does make a difference,
so do please give it a try!

This week’s extract is from North and South by Elizabeth

Gaskell. Margaret Hale, a southerner, newly settled in the
northern industrial town of Milton has visited the home of the
local mill owner, Mr. Thornton, at the very moment when an
angry mob of striking mill workers has marched on his house
to protest at the bringing in of Irish workers to do their jobs.
Thornton is awaiting the arrival of the military; meanwhile,
the Irishmen are trapped in a room in the mill.

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'Mr. Thornton,' said Margaret, shaking all over with her passion,
'go down this instant, if you are not a coward. Go down and face
them like a man. Save these poor strangers, whom you have
decoyed here. Speak to your workmen as if they were human
beings. Speak to them kindly. Don't let the soldiers come in and
cut down poor-creatures who are driven mad. I see one there
who is. If you have any courage or noble quality in you, go out
and speak to them, man to man.'
He turned and looked at her while she spoke. A dark cloud came
over his face while he listened. He set his teeth as heard her
words.
'I will go. Perhaps I may ask you to accompany me downstairs,
and bar the door behind me; my mother and sister will need that
protection.'
'Oh! Mr. Thornton! I do not know – I may be wrong – only -'
But he was gone; he was downstairs in the hall; he had
unbarred the front door; all she could do, was to follow him
quickly, and fasten it behind him, and clamber up the stairs again
with a sick heart and a dizzy head. Again she took her place by
the farthest window. He was on the steps below; she saw that by
the direction of a thousand angry eyes; but she could neither see
nor hear any-thing save the savage satisfaction of the rolling
angry murmur. She threw the window wide open. Many in the
crowd were mere boys; cruel and thoughtless, - cruel because
they were thoughtless; some were men, gaunt as wolves, and
mad for prey. She knew how it was; they were like Boucher, with
starving children at home – relying on ultimate success in their
efforts to get higher wages,and enraged beyond measure at
discovering that Irishmen were to be brought in to rob their little
ones of bread. Margaret knew it all; she read it in Boucher's face,
forlornly desperate and livid with rage. If Mr. Thornton would but
say something to them – let them hear his voice only – it seemed
as if it would be better than this wild beating and raging against
the stony silence that vouchsafed them no word, even of anger
or reproach. But perhaps he was speaking now; there was a
momentary hush of their noise, inarticulate as that of a troop of
animals. She tore her bonnet off; and bent forwards to hear.
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Pause for thought…

Well, we have a lot going on here, haven’t we? This feels like quite
an intense moment with many emotions at play; in fact, Margaret is
‘shaking all over with passion’, as she gives her speech to Mr.
Thornton. What are our first impressions of these two characters?
I’m struck by Margaret’s direct and powerful words, compared to
her ‘sick heart and dizzy head’, just moments later. She seems
anxious and conflicted, desperate for some sort of resolution of this
dramatic turn of events. I was particularly interested in these lines:
‘If Mr. Thornton would but say something to them – let them hear
his voice only – it seemed as if it would be better than this wild
beating and raging against the stony silence that vouchsafed them
no word, even of anger or reproach.’
This idea that it is perhaps better to say something - anything at all,
because the silence is too unbearable. I wonder how Mr. Thornton
feels with ‘a thousand angry eyes’ staring back it him. It seems like
a very intimidating situation to be in, to say the least. Let’s read on,
and see where this is going…

She could only see; for if Mr. Thornton had indeed made the
attempt to speak, the momentary instinct to listen to him was past
and gone, and the people were raging worse than ever. He stood
with his arms folded; still as a statue; his face pale with repressed
excitement. They were trying to intimidate him – to make him
flinch; each was urging the other on to some immediate act of
personal violence. Margaret felt intuitively, that in an instant all
would be uproar; the first touch would cause an explosion, in
which, among such hundreds of infuriated men and reckless boys,
even Mr. Thornton’s life would be unsafe, - that in another instant
the stormy passions would have passed their bounds, and swept
away all barriers of reason, or apprehension of consequence.
Even while she looked, she saw lads in the back-ground stooping
to take off their heavy wooden clogs – the readiest missile they
could find; she saw it was the spark to the gunpowder, and, with a
cry, which no one heard, she rushed out of the room, down stairs,
- she had lifted the great iron bar of the door with an imperious
force – had thrown the door open wide and was there, in face of
that angry sea of men, her eyes smiting them with flaming arrows
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of reproach.
The clogs were arrested in the hands that held them – the
countenances, so fell not a moment before, now looked irresolute,
and as if asking what this meant. For she stood between them and
their enemy. She could not speak, but held out her arms towards
them till she could recover breath.
‘Oh, do not use violence! He is one man, and you are many; but
her words died away, for there was no tone in her voice; it was but
a hoarse whisper. Mr. Thornton stood a little on one side; he had
moved away from behind her, as if jealous of anything that should
come between him and danger.
‘Go!’ said she, once more (and now her voice was like a cry).
‘The soldiers are sent for – are coming. Go peaceably. Go away.
You shall have relief from your complaints, whatever they are.’
‘Shall them Irish blackguards be packed back again?’ asked one
from the crowd, with fierce threatening in his voice
‘Never, for your bidding!’ exclaimed Mr. Thornton. And instantly
the storm broke. The hootings rose and filled the air, - but Margaret
did not hear them. Her eye was on the group of lads who had
armed themselves with their clogs some time before. She saw their
gesture – she knew its meaning, - she read their aim. Another
moment, and Mr. Thornton might be smitten down, - he whom she
had urged and goaded to come to this perilous place. She only
thought how she could save him. She threw her arms around him;
she made her body into a shield from the fierce people beyond.
Still, with his arms folded, he shook her off.
‘Go away,’ said he, in his deep voice. ‘This is no place for you.’

A final pause for thought…

What a turn this has taken! How different Margaret seems now
compared to the beginning of the extract. We have this
extremely intense moment, ‘Margaret felt intuitively, that in an
instant all would be uproar; the first touch would cause an
explosion…’ it feels like quite a dangerous place to be, doesn’t
it? Again, Margaret seems so different now to the beginning of
the extract. She began with that powerful speech and now her
voice is nothing but a ‘hoarse whisper’. I think I would be the
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same when faced with such a formidable crowd, too!
Time for a poem ….

We’ll pick up with another story again in our next issue, but now
a pause for some poetry. Poetry isn’t always easy for everyone
to get going with. In our Shared Reading groups we read a
poem out loud a few times, to give ourselves a bit of time to
hear it aloud. Give this a go yourself and see if it helps you to
feel comfortable with the words, even if you’re still not sure
what it’s all about!

We aren’t looking to find an answer here, or what the person

writing it might have meant when they wrote it. We’re just
looking to see if any feelings or ideas come up when we read it
– and often we find that the more time you allow yourself to
simply be with the poem, the more thoughts and feelings will
come through.

One of the keys is to enjoy yourself: take your time, read it out
loud, have a think about any bits you like, or that puzzle you,
then… have another read!

This week's Featured Poem is The Wheel of the Breast by Ella

Wheeler Wilcox. In this weeks extract, we saw emotions
running high, particularly in the form of anger. In this poem we
take a closer look at the nature of emotions, and in particular,
the toll they can take on us. Let’s have a read through and see
what we think…

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The Wheel of the Breast by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Through rivers of veins on the nameless quest

The tide of my life goes hurriedly sweeping,
Till it reaches that curious wheel o' the breast,
The human heart, which is never at rest
Faster, faster, it cries, and leaping,
Plunging, dashing, speeding away,
The wheel and the river work night and day.

I know not wherefore, I know not whither

This strange tide rushes with such mad force:
It glides on hither, it slides on thither,
Over and over the selfsame course,
With never an outlet and never a source;
And it lashes itself to the heat of passion
And whirls the heart in a mill-wheel fashion.

I can hear in the hush of the still, still night,

The ceaseless sound of that mighty river;
I can hear it gushing, gurgling, rushing
With a wild, delirious strange delight,
And a conscious pride in its sense of might,
As it hurries and worries my heart forever.

And I wonder oft as I lie awake,

A list to the river that seethes and surges
Over the wheel that it chides and urges,—
I wonder oft if that wheel will break
With the mighty pressure it bears, some day,
Or slowly and wearily wear away.

For little by little the heart is wearing.

Like the wheel of the mill, as the tide goes tearing
And plunging hurriedly through my breast,
In a network of veins on a nameless quest,
From and forth, unto unknown oceans,
Bringing its cargoes of fierce emotions,
With never a pause or an hour for rest.
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Pause for thought...

You might want to take a few moments to absorb the

poem, or perhaps you may want to read it through again.
There is so much to reflect on here. Are there any lines or
words that are standing out to you?

I find myself wondering what this ‘nameless quest’ is

referring to, that is mentioned a couple of times in the
poem.

I was surprised by ‘the strange tide rushes […] With

never an outlet and never a source’ I find myself
grappling with these lines. Wouldn’t this contrast with the
very nature of a river – what would it mean for one to not
have a source or an outlet?

What do we make of the next lines: ‘And it lashes itself to

the heat of passion/And whirls the heart in a mill-wheel
fashion.’ do we agree with this depiction? I can certainly
see this, thinking back to times when I’ve felt a powerful
emotion, particularly anger or frustration.

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We’ve left this page blank for you to make notes,
draw a picture, have a go at writing yourself or jot
down something you’d like to tell us…

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As well as reading materials, we’ve also included a
puzzle for you to have a go at while you’re having a
cuppa.

Below are some literary anagrams! See if you can work

out the titles of some of these well-known novels… good
luck!

You can find the answers on the next page.

1. Dog Kick Ball Into Rim

2. A Wittiest Fool Ace

3. Hedge Within Town

4. Eel Bunch Fry Rink

5. A Nerd Dripped Juice

6. A Cottagers Next Pie

7. Forge The Warpaths

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 Answers:

1. To Kill a Mockingbird

2. A Tale of Two Cities

3. Gone With the Wind

4. Huckleberry Finn

5. Pride and Prejudice

6. Great Expectations

7. The Grapes of Wrath

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