The Complete Guide to Climbing My Grandfather

A first look at the poem

Climbing My Grandfather is a poem by Andrew Waterhouse. It is built on a single idea held from beginning to end: a grandchild climbs up the grandfather's body as though the grandchild were climbing a mountain.

The climber sets out without a rope or net. The climber begins at the old, cracked, dusty shoes, scrambles up the trousers, gets round the overhanging shirt and reaches the belt. The climber grips an earth-stained hand by its splintered nails, notices the thick, smooth skin of a finger that feels like warm ice, and steps over a scar on the arm where the old stitches show. The climber rests at the shoulder, which is still firm, then pulls upward by the loose skin of the neck to the smiling mouth, crosses the cheek, looks into brown eyes, passes the wrinkles of the forehead and reaches the thick white hair at the top.

At the summit the climber is out of breath. The climber lies still, watching clouds and birds circle overhead, feeling the old man's warmth and the slow beat of his heart.

The poem is in the Love and Relationships cluster on AQA GCSE English Literature (8702). It is in copyright, and no quotation from it could be checked against the poet's or publisher's own text, so this guide quotes nothing and describes every moment precisely. If the poem is printed on your paper, quote it from there.

What just happened

• A child climbs a grandfather as if he were a mountain.
• The climber goes from the shoes to the white hair.
• At the top the climber lies still and feels the heartbeat.

Why it matters. The poem turns a familiar game into a journey of getting to know someone.

What to remember

• One extended metaphor from first line to last.
• The reward at the top is closeness.

The title: Climbing My Grandfather

The title states the poem's strange idea plainly. We climb mountains, trees, walls — not people. Putting a grandfather where a mountain should be tells the reader at once that this is a metaphor, and that the grandfather is huge in the speaker's eyes.

The word My makes it personal and possessive in the warm sense. This is not a grandfather in general; it is the speaker's own, someone the speaker belongs to and who belongs to the speaker.

The present participle, climbing, suggests an activity in progress, not a finished conquest. The poem is about the doing of it — the effort, the attention, the moving closer — more than the arrival.

Keep the title in mind as you read. A strong essay can argue that the title already holds the poem's whole method: an ordinary relationship described in the language of an adventure.

What just happened

• People are not usually climbed: the title announces a metaphor.
• My makes the relationship personal.
• Climbing stresses the process, not the conquest.

Why it matters. The title contains the poem's method in three words.

What to remember

• Grandfather in place of mountain.
• Process over arrival.

The opening: no rope, no net

The poem opens with a decision. The speaker will do this climb free, with no rope and no net. In real climbing, a rope and a net are what stop a fall from being fatal. To go without them is a bold, risky choice.

Why begin like this? First, it establishes the metaphor immediately: we are on a mountain. Second, it sets up stakes: there is danger in the climb. Third, it shows trust. A child who climbs a grandfather without any safety equipment is certain that the grandfather will not drop the child. The danger exists only in the game; the trust is real.

The present tense of the decision puts us inside the moment. The climb is not remembered from a distance; it is starting now, as we read.

Some readers find a deeper meaning in the opening: getting to know another person always involves some risk, and the speaker chooses to do it openly, without holding anything back. Present this as a reading.

What just happened

• The speaker decides to climb free.
• No rope or net: risk in the metaphor.
• Trust in the relationship.

Why it matters. The opening sets up both the metaphor and the trust.

What to remember

• Danger is only in the game.
• Present tense: it is happening now.

The lower slopes: shoes, trousers, shirt, belt

The climb begins at the bottom, at the grandfather's shoes. They are old, dusty and cracked — worn by years of use. At the foot of a real mountain there is old, weathered rock; at the foot of the grandfather there are old, weathered shoes.

From the shoes the climber scrambles easily up the trousers. Then comes the shirt, hanging out over the belt like an overhang, a part of a rock face that juts out above a climber and has to be got round. The belt becomes a ledge along the way.

These are the outer layers, the parts of the grandfather anyone could see. The climb begins on the surface. Nothing intimate has yet been reached.

Notice how ordinary the details are. Shoes, trousers, a shirt, a belt: the most everyday things become features of an adventure. This is how a child's imagination works, turning the familiar into something huge and exciting.

What just happened

• Old, dusty, cracked shoes at the bottom.
• An easy scramble up the trousers.
• The shirt as an overhang; the belt as a ledge.

Why it matters. The lower slopes turn everyday clothes into terrain.

What to remember

• The climb starts on the surface.
• Age is visible from the first step.

The hand and the finger

Next the climber reaches the grandfather's hand. It is stained with earth, and the nails are splintered. This is a working hand, the hand of someone who has done physical work — the poem does not say what.

The splintered nails give the climber something to hold on to. What could be seen as damage becomes useful: a broken edge is a good hold on a rock face. The grandfather's hard life literally supports the child as the climb goes on.

Then the climber notices the skin of a finger, thick and smooth, and compares it to ice — but ice that is warm. This comparison joins opposites. Ice is cold and hard, and old, weathered skin can be smooth and hard like ice on a mountain. But this skin is warm, because the man is alive.

This is one of the richest moments for language analysis. One comparison holds both sides of the grandfather: the hardness of age and the warmth of life, the mountain and the man.

What just happened

• An earth-stained hand with splintered nails.
• The broken nails become handholds.
• Finger skin like ice that is warm.

Why it matters. The hand shows a working life and joins age with warmth.

What to remember

• Damage becomes support.
• Warm ice: an oxymoron.

The scar and the shoulder

On the arm the climber finds a scar, and steps over the marks where old stitches once held a wound together. On a mountain this might be a crack or ridge; on the grandfather it is the record of an injury long ago.

The poem does not say how he got the scar. The child crosses it without knowing its story. This is one of the quietest and most interesting moments: the grandfather has a past the child can touch but cannot know. Getting to know someone includes meeting things that are never explained.

Then the climber rests at the shoulder, which is still firm. On a climb, a rest is taken on a safe ledge. The word still is important. Everything else so far has shown age — cracked shoes, broken nails, a scar — but the shoulder has kept its strength.

The shoulder is a place of safety in the middle of the climb. It is where a grandfather might carry a child, and it remains strong enough to hold one.

What just happened

• A scar with the marks of old stitches.
• Its story is not told.
• A rest at a shoulder that is still firm.

Why it matters. The middle of the climb holds a hidden past and a lasting strength.

What to remember

• The unknown story.
• Still firm: strength against age.

The face: neck, mouth, cheek, eyes

Above the shoulder the climber pulls upward by the loose skin of the neck. Loose skin is another sign of age, but here it is simply something to grip.

The climber reaches the mouth, and it is smiling. This changes the feel of the climb. A mountain does not smile; a grandfather playing with his grandchild does. The old man is enjoying this. He is a willing, patient mountain.

The climber crosses the cheek and looks into the grandfather's brown eyes. This is the moment when the metaphor most clearly gives way to a person. A climber looking into the eyes of the mountain sees someone looking back.

The face is the most personal part of the body. By reaching it, the climb has moved from the clothes anyone can see to the features only someone very close would study. The journey has become intimate.

What just happened

• The loose skin of the neck.
• A smiling mouth: the grandfather enjoys the game.
• Brown eyes looking back.

Why it matters. The face turns the mountain into a person.

What to remember

• The smile: a willing mountain.
• Eye contact: recognition.

The forehead, the hair and the summit

The climber passes over the forehead, where the wrinkles run like lines on a map that show the shape of the land, or the ridges of a weathered rock face. Then the climber reaches the thick white hair, the top of the mountain.

White at the top, like snow on a peak. The image fits the metaphor perfectly and is also the clearest sign of the grandfather's age.

At the summit the climber is out of breath. The climber lies still. Above the climber clouds and birds circle, as if the climber were on a real mountaintop with the sky all around.

And then the poem's last discovery: the climber feels the grandfather's warmth and the slow beat of his heart. The summit gives no distant view. Its reward is the feeling of the life inside the man beneath the climber. The climb ends in stillness and closeness.

What just happened

• Evenly spaced wrinkles on the forehead.
• Thick white hair: the summit.
• Out of breath, the climber lies still and feels the slow heartbeat.

Why it matters. The climax is closeness, not conquest.

What to remember

• White hair like a snowy peak.
• The heartbeat is the reward.

Close study: the extended metaphor

An extended metaphor is a comparison kept up through a whole poem. Waterhouse never steps out of his: from the opening decision to climb free to the summit, the grandfather is a mountain.

The power of the metaphor lies in its double vocabulary. Every word belongs to two worlds at once. The shirt is clothing and an overhang; the nails are broken and they are holds; the shoulder is a body part and a ledge to rest on; the hair is white and it is a snowy summit. The reader sees two pictures at once, and the closeness between them mirrors the closeness between the two people.

What does the metaphor say about the grandfather? A mountain is huge, old, weathered by time, and enduring. It is also something to be respected, approached with care, and explored. The child sees the grandfather in exactly those terms.

What does it say about the relationship? Climbing a mountain takes effort, time and attention. So does knowing a person. The metaphor turns a moment of play into an image of love as patient exploration. A paragraph on the metaphor should always go beyond naming it to say what these particular choices reveal.

What just happened

• The metaphor runs from first line to last.
• Every word belongs to two worlds.
• Mountain and relationship both need effort and attention.

Why it matters. The metaphor is the poem's argument about love.

What to remember

• Name it, then explain it.
• Double vocabulary = two pictures.

Close study: the finger like warm ice

Halfway up the climb, the speaker notices the skin of the grandfather's finger: thick and smooth, and like ice — but warm. It is a tiny detail that rewards close attention.

First, it is precise observation. Old skin can become thick, smooth and shiny, especially on a working hand. The child has looked, and felt, closely.

Second, it keeps the metaphor going. Ice belongs to mountains, on the high slopes and in glaciers. The finger is part of the mountain's terrain.

Third, it joins opposites. Ice is cold; this is warm. An oxymoron like this holds two truths together: the grandfather is old and weathered, hard like ice on a mountain, but he is alive and warm. The comparison sums up the whole poem's balance between age and life, between the mountain and the man. A close-language paragraph built on this single moment can reach the poem's centre.

What just happened

• Thick, smooth skin, like ice.
• But the ice is warm.
• Age and life held together.

Why it matters. One comparison holds the poem's balance.

What to remember

• Precise observation.
• Oxymoron = two truths.

Close study: the ending

The ending is where the poem's meaning comes to rest. Study how it differs from what a reader might expect.

First, there is no triumph. A climber at a summit might celebrate, look out over the land, plant a flag. This climber is exhausted and lies still. The effort is over; what remains is peace.

Second, the view is upward, not outward. The climber watches clouds and birds circling in the sky. The world of the poem opens up for the first time beyond the grandfather's body, but the climber stays there, lying still.

Third, the reward is a feeling. The climber feels the grandfather's warmth and the slow beat of his heart. This is the most private evidence of a person — something you can only feel when you are very close. The climb, which began at the shoes, has reached the heart. A paragraph on the ending can argue that the poem's real summit is intimacy: the journey of knowing someone ends with feeling his life beneath you.

What just happened

• No triumph: the climber lies still.
• The climber watches clouds and birds.
• The climber feels the warmth and slow heartbeat.

Why it matters. The ending turns achievement into closeness.

What to remember

• Summit = intimacy.
• From the shoes to the heart.

Trust and risk

The poem is full of the language of risk: a climb without a rope or net, an overhang, loose skin to pull on, a long way up. A real climb like this would be dangerous.

But the poem never feels frightening. The grandfather smiles; his shoulder is firm; his skin is warm; his heart beats steadily. The danger is all in the metaphor, while the reality is safety.

This tension is the point. Climbing without protection is an act of trust, and the child trusts the grandfather completely. The poem suggests that real closeness involves a kind of risk — opening yourself to another person without holding back — and that this risk is safe with someone you love.

Some readers also hear in the climb a sense of how much effort and boldness it takes to come close to an older, more distant person. Present this as a reading.

What just happened

• Climbing language suggests danger.
• The grandfather is safe, firm and warm.
• No rope or net = trust.

Why it matters. The tension between risk and safety shows trust.

What to remember

• Danger in the metaphor.
• Safety in the relationship.

Form: one stanza, free verse

The poem is written as a single stanza of free verse. There is no regular rhyme scheme and no fixed line length.

The single stanza suits the subject. A climb is one continuous effort; there are no stanza breaks to rest in. The layout of the poem on the page is like the shape of the climb, one unbroken line of movement from the bottom to the top. Some readers also see in the solid block of text the bulk of the grandfather himself.

Free verse suits a child's exploration: unplanned, following wherever interest leads, moving at its own pace. A strict rhyme scheme would make the climb feel orderly and measured; free verse lets it feel natural and spontaneous.

Enjambment carries sense from one line to the next, so the reader keeps moving upward without pausing, like a climber passing from hold to hold. The poem only rests when the climber rests, at the summit.

What just happened

• One stanza: one continuous climb.
• Free verse: natural, unplanned exploration.
• Enjambment keeps the reader moving.

Why it matters. Form enacts the climb.

What to remember

• No breaks to rest in.
• The poem rests when the climber does.

Structure: from the feet to the heart

The structure of the poem is the route of the climb: from the shoes, up the clothes, over the hand and arm, to the shoulder, up the neck to the face, and on to the hair at the top. The reader meets the grandfather in exactly the order the climber does.

This order is also a movement from outside to inside. It begins with clothing, the outer layer anyone can see. It moves to the skin, nails and scar, which show a life lived. It reaches the face and eyes, the most personal features. And it ends with the heartbeat, which can only be felt from very close. The structure is a journey into intimacy.

The pace changes at the end. Through most of the poem the climber is moving and noticing. At the summit the climber stops and lies still. The change from motion to stillness marks the end of the journey and gives the ending its sense of peace.

An essay can argue that the structure is itself the meaning: to know someone, you begin with what everyone can see and move slowly, with effort, towards what only those closest can feel.

What just happened

• The structure follows the route of the climb.
• From clothes to skin to face to heart.
• Motion ends in stillness.

Why it matters. Structure is a journey into intimacy.

What to remember

• Outside to inside.
• Motion to rest.

Voice: first person, present tense

The poem is spoken in the first person by the climber, and in the present tense. We hear the climb from inside, as it happens.

The present tense makes the climb immediate. The reader does not watch from a distance; the reader climbs. This is especially effective for the ending, where the warmth and the heartbeat are felt now, in the moment of reading.

But who is speaking? The voice is precise and controlled, with an adult's vocabulary of climbing. It may be a child at play, or an adult remembering, bringing a childhood memory back into the present. The poem does not settle this. Teaching resources often read it as a memory of childhood; present that as a reading. The poem never says whether the speaker is a grandson or a granddaughter, so neither should an essay.

If it is a memory, the present tense becomes a way of keeping someone alive: the grandfather's heartbeat is still being felt, in the speaker's mind, whenever the memory returns.

What just happened

• First person: we climb with the speaker.
• Present tense: the climb is happening now.
• Child or adult remembering: the poem does not say.

Why it matters. Voice and tense make the closeness immediate.

What to remember

• The ending is felt now.
• Memory kept alive.

Key words

Some terms are worth having precisely. An extended metaphor is a comparison kept up through a whole poem. A free climb, in everyday terms, is one done without the rope and safety equipment that would catch a fall.

An overhang is a part of a rock face that juts out over the climber; the grandfather's shirt hangs over his belt in the same way. A summit is the top of a mountain; here, the white hair. An oxymoron joins opposites, as the finger skin likened to warm ice does.

Tactile imagery is imagery of touch. The poem is full of it: dusty, cracked, earth-stained, splintered, smooth, loose, warm. The child knows the grandfather through touch as much as sight.

Use these words to make points, not to label. Saying the shirt is an overhang shows how a child turns the familiar into an adventure; saying the warm ice is an oxymoron opens up the poem's balance of age and life.

What just happened

• Extended metaphor; free climb.
• Overhang; summit; oxymoron.
• Tactile imagery.

Why it matters. Exact terms make analysis precise.

What to remember

• Use terms to make points.
• Touch is the poem's main sense.

The world behind the poem

Andrew Waterhouse was born in Lincolnshire in 1958. His first full collection, In, was published by The Rialto in 2000 and won the Forward Prize for Best First Collection. He died in 2001, at forty-two, and The Rialto published a second collection, 2nd, in 2002. Teaching resources on his work note that his poems often turn to the natural world and to family.

Climbing My Grandfather brings those two interests together. A family relationship is imagined as a landscape; a person is explored as if he were part of the natural world. This is a way of giving an old man the kind of respect and awe a climber gives a mountain.

The poem also draws on a common experience: the closeness between grandparents and grandchildren, often a relationship of play and patience, and a child's frank curiosity about an older body. A grandparent may be the oldest person a child knows well, and the signs of age the climber passes are part of how a child first meets a long life.

Using context. In an essay: because grandparents are often the oldest people a child knows closely, the climber's interest in the scar, the wrinkles and the white hair can be read as a child's first map of a long life — attach this to a described moment, and never claim to know whose grandfather this was.

What just happened

• Waterhouse: born 1958; first collection In won the Forward Prize for Best First Collection in 2000.
• His poems often join the natural world and family.
• Grandparents and grandchildren: play, patience, closeness.

Why it matters. Context deepens the mountain metaphor and the theme of age.

What to remember

• Attach context to a moment.
• No claims about the poet's own grandfather.

Readings to weigh

A celebration reading sees the poem as a joyful, loving portrait of a grandfather and of the trust between a child and an old man. The smile, the firm shoulder and the warm heartbeat support it.

A journey-of-knowing reading sees the climb as an image of coming to know a person over time: from the outside to the inside, from the clothes to the heart. The untold story of the scar shows that some of a person stays unknown.

A memory or elegy reading hears an adult remembering. The slow heartbeat at the end becomes poignant, a reminder of time passing and perhaps of loss. The poem does not say whether the grandfather is alive or dead, so an essay must present this as a possibility, not a fact.

All three can be supported. An essay should choose one, ground it in specific moments — the opening decision, the warm ice, the scar, the summit — and acknowledge the others.

What just happened

• Celebration: love and trust.
• Journey of knowing: outside to inside.
• Memory or elegy: time and possible loss.

Why it matters. The poem supports several readings.

What to remember

• Choose and acknowledge.
• Do not claim the grandfather is dead.

Comparing Climbing My Grandfather

Follower is the strongest partner. Both present a child's admiration for an older man in the family through an extended physical image: Heaney's father is a ship under full sail with the small child stumbling in his wake; Waterhouse's grandfather is a mountain climbed to the top. But Follower ends with a reversal — the father now stumbling behind the grown child and not going away — while Climbing My Grandfather ends at rest, in closeness.

Mother, any distance also uses one extended image for a bond between generations: a tape measure stretched between a grown child and the mother as the speaker measures a new house, until at the top of the house the speaker faces an open sky and must fall or fly. Armitage's poem moves the generations apart; Waterhouse's brings them together. Walking Away looks at separation from the parent's side, a parent remembering a young child drifting away. Eden Rock ends, like Waterhouse's poem, in a peaceful image of family, though its speaker sees their young parents waiting across a stream.

Use this in an essay. Both Armitage and Waterhouse build a relationship between generations from a single physical image, but where Armitage's tape measure is pulled almost to breaking as a grown child climbs away from the mother towards an open sky, Waterhouse's climber goes up only to come closer, ending not at a hatch onto empty space but lying on the grandfather, feeling his warmth and slow heartbeat — so one poem climbs towards independence and the other towards intimacy.

What just happened

• Follower: ship against mountain; reversal against rest.
• Mother, any distance: moving apart against coming closer.
• Walking Away and Eden Rock: separation and peaceful reunion.

Why it matters. Comparison is the task itself.

What to remember

• Compare direction: away or towards.
• Compare extended images.

A model comparative paragraph

Use this in an essay. Both poets look at an older man in the family through a child's admiring eyes, and both make him huge. Heaney's father is a ship under full sail, the child a small figure stumbling in his wake; Waterhouse's grandfather is a mountain, climbed from his cracked shoes to his white hair. But the poems move in opposite directions. Heaney's ends years later, with the strong father now an old man stumbling behind his grown child, a presence that will not go away. Waterhouse's never leaves the moment of the climb: at the summit the child lies still, out of breath, feeling the old man's warmth and the slow beat of his heart. Heaney shows admiration overturned by time; Waterhouse keeps it whole, and finds at the top not a reversal but a heartbeat.

How it works: a comparative claim about how each child sees the older man; precise described moments from both poems; a sharp final difference about direction and ending. Description replaces quotation without losing precision.

Practise a paragraph like this with Mother, any distance as the partner, and time yourself at about eight to ten minutes.

What just happened

• A claim about how each child sees the older man.
• Described moments from both poems.
• A sharp difference in direction and ending.

Why it matters. Comparison must argue.

What to remember

• Claim — moment — effect — difference.
• Describe exactly.

Grade 9 moves on this poem

Top answers explain what the metaphor reveals, read the structure as a journey into intimacy, and notice that the summit offers a feeling rather than a view.

Grade 9 upgrade. Instead of: The poem uses an extended metaphor of a mountain.

Write: By treating the grandfather as a mountain, Waterhouse makes him vast, weathered and enduring, and turns a child's game into an act of patient, respectful exploration — love shown as attention.

Grade 9 upgrade. Instead of: The grandfather is old.

Write: The signs of age — cracked shoes, splintered nails, a scar, loose skin, wrinkles, white hair — are mapped like the features of a landscape, while the firm shoulder, warm skin and steady heartbeat show that age here means endurance, not decline.

Grade 9 upgrade. Instead of: At the end the climber reaches the top.

Write: The summit gives no view of distant land; the climber lies still and feels the grandfather's warmth and slow heartbeat, so the poem's real destination is closeness, reached by travelling from the clothes to the heart.

Each upgrade explains a method, its effect and why it matters.

What just happened

• Explain what the metaphor reveals.
• Read the structure as a journey inward.
• Notice the summit is a feeling.

Why it matters. These habits lift an answer into the top band.

What to remember

• Age as endurance.
• Closeness, not conquest.

The moments to carry

If you choose Climbing My Grandfather from memory, carry a set of precisely described moments, in the order of the climb. Describe each closely enough that an examiner can recognise it.

Ten moments for the whole poem

• The decision to climb free, without a rope or net.
• The old, dusty, cracked shoes at the bottom.
• The shirt hanging over the belt like an overhang.
• The earth-stained hand whose splintered nails give a grip.
• The finger skin, thick and smooth, like ice that is warm.
• The scar on the arm, with the marks of old stitches.
• The rest at a shoulder that is still firm.
• The loose skin of the neck and the smiling mouth.
• The brown eyes and the wrinkles of the forehead.
• The thick white hair; lying still at the summit, watching clouds and birds, feeling the warmth and slow heartbeat.

For each, prepare one sentence of analysis and one link to another poem: the mountain to Heaney's ship; the climb towards closeness to Armitage's tape measure pulling apart; the peaceful ending to Causley's parents waiting across the stream.

What just happened

• Ten precisely described moments.
• One analysis for each.
• One link for each.

Why it matters. Precise description carries a closed-book essay.

What to remember

• Keep the order of the climb.
• End on the heartbeat.

In the exam

If Climbing My Grandfather is printed, read it twice. Mark the opening decision, the climbing words given to clothes and skin, the warm ice, the scar, the shoulder, the face, and the summit. Decide your argument before choosing a partner. Because it is printed, you may quote it from the paper.

If you choose it from memory, carry its shape — the risky start, the ascent from the outside in, the stillness at the top — and your ten moments. Write a comparative thesis first, then three or four paragraphs with both poems and a method in each.

Put context in single clauses: a poet drawn to the natural world and family; the closeness between grandparents and grandchildren. Avoid the two traps: treating the mountain as literal, and retelling the climb without explaining the metaphor.

End your essay by returning to the summit and saying what the comparison shows about how love between generations is shown.

What just happened

• Mark the decision, the double vocabulary and the summit.
• Thesis first; both poems in every paragraph.
• Context in clauses.

Why it matters. A plan turns the climb into your argument.

What to remember

• Explain the metaphor.
• End on closeness.