Paraphrase of the Romance Scene

For a writing group that I sometimes participate in:

Ode to Romance

7/22/05Most of this I wrote forever ago (when I was 14/15), though I touched stuff up slightly when transcribing from my old paper/pencil version. My, what an impressionable romantic mess I was back then...

Paraphrase of the Romance Scene

Exhausted by the hectic morning, disappointed with the turn of events, and exasperated with him, her tone of annoyance also bore a note of helplessness: "Would you please quit calling me that?"

Surprised by the absence of a harsh tone or comment, he replied, rather bewildered: "Sure, Leia." Making note to use a name she wouldn't mind.

She, also surprised by his sudden civility, attempted to explain her own grating behavior: "You make it really difficult sometimes."

Though her words were a bit of a blunder, he sensed their meaning and replied by laughing at himself: "I do, I really do!" But returned to the pending importance of their conversation by adding a light reprimand of his own: "You could be a little nicer though. Come on, admit it, sometimes you think I'm alright."

Both were a little nervous, knowing what subject they were finally broaching. Her words were carried by a hasty, insecure voice: "Occasionally, maybe, when you aren't acting like a scoundrel."

She was beginning to sound irritated again, but he couldn't help gloating in the victory of her admission: "scoundrel," he repeated, finding her term endearing.

"Scooouuundrel," he repeated once more, savouring the syllables. Then, in an easy and purposeful manner he fixed her in his gaze, saying: "I like the sound of that." His tone beckoned her to continue, and his hands found hers and began a slow, deliberate massage.

Caught off guard by his sudden change in disposition, she sputtered in an infuriated tone: "Stop that."

Without batting an eye, and unphazed by her protest he said: "Stop what?" almost as though he were mocking her.

Furious that he had ignored her request, she put on an air of regality that seemed utterly comical in that situation, especially when coupled with her haphazard logic: "Stop that. My hands are dirty."

Her carefully learned air of superiority was wasted on him, and he moved closer, saying: "Well my hands are dirty too, what are you afraid of?"

Never in her life had she experienced such insolence, and in her confused state of mind she really was beginning to feel afraid. With wide, startled eyes, she looked up at him: "Afraid?"

"You're trembling." He pointed out.

"I'm not trembling." She giddily retorted.

He began to move closer, and used a low and steady voice that lulled her into a panicked stupor. "I think you like me because I'm a scoundrel. You haven't had enough scoundrels in your life."

She, in a dazed, half-conscious manner resumed her protest: "I happen to like nice men."

Not forsaking his hypnotic tone, he replied: "I'm a nice man."

Obstinate to the last, she gathered all her strength into a final resistance, and in a voice that barely reached a whisper managed to blurt out: "No you're not, you're"

But he wouldn't listen any longer, silencing her rebellious lips by placing his own upon them in a firm kiss.

----

Though she had anticipated his actions, she did not expect the dizziness that assaulted her senses. She had never been kissed like this before, and in her altered state of mind she forgot to keep breathing through her nose. The lack of oxygen didn't help her think any better. She was just about to faint when Threepio suddenly interrupted them and Han pulled away, incensed. Having known the mechanics of a kiss for years he had no trouble with clear-headed thought, and wondered how a protocol droid could be so lacking in tact. Still, the repair of his ship was certainly part of his caring for her...

Meanwhile, Leia began to catch her breath, but her emotions were still buzzing around inside her. Her stomach felt queasy, her heart was racing and she still found thinking a bit difficult. "Escape!" she thought. Yes, that was what she needed. Han was conveniently distracted with Threepio, so Leia quickly and quietly slipped out the side door, unnoticed.

When Han turned his attention back to Leia, he was rather startled to find... no Leia! "Women!" he thought, and didn't even try to understand.

My Review of Emile by Jean-Jacques Rousseau

I found a posting of this dated July 8, 2005. I think I may have written it even earlier than that. I read the book in February 2004.

I have always been of a mind to enjoy reading the works of "anti-academics." Often, this takes the form of perusing a library shelf, picking a few titles, unceremoniously discarding those which do not arouse my interest in the first few pages, and following up on the bibliography of those that do. That is how I discovered the writing of John Holt, and if memory serves me correctly it was through his bibliography that I discovered such authors as George Dennison, Paul Goodman, and James Herndon. However, that study left me rather disappointed because of the almost historical place their works seemed to assume (they were all dead authors). My first year away at college after being home schooled my entire life, finding Holt was like finding Atlantis, then realizing its antiquity. I treasured the sentiments, but was disillusioned into inaction. Last semester a frame of melancholy sent me on another one of those errands through library shelves, and thus was born my discovery of John Taylor Gatto. The greatest joy was in realizing that he was a contemporary author. After reading Dumbing us Down, I was searching for other books of his online and ran across johntaylorgatto.com. This site included a partially published version of his book The Underground History of American Education. I was hooked... apparently so were others, as getting hold of a library copy to supplement the online portions took some patience. This book had so much theory, so many facts, Gatto could write the moving experience-based narratives of Holt and associates, but there wasn't time because he had so much MORE to tell! Anyway, one book which he mentioned was Emile by Jean-Jacques Rousseau. As I had never read any Rousseau, and had an independent desire to know something of classical philosophies, I decided to read Emile.

First and foremost, Emile is a work on education - in the ideal. I say this as a grammatical parallelism to the expression "in the abstract," because I wish to emphasize how abstract an idealization always is. Therefore, you really cannot take anything he says quite seriously. I read the "Everyman" version, and they include a bit of historical context, author's biography, etc. Between that and the text itself, you get the feeling that the book was written in the spirit of "If I had it to do over again..." The truth is that Rousseau was the biological father of five, but the active father of none. Yet, regret can house a wealth of wisdom, so let it not be too harshly scorned; only let us realize that every prescription is untried.

Having said that, Emile is an early advocacy of home schooling. Emile is the pupil, Rousseau is the surrogate father. Gatto, however, did not seem to be giving a very positive recommendation of the work. I think Gatto was primarily alarmed at the contrived nature of Emile's education. That is a point well worth considering and one upon which I am not yet free of indecision. But the sentiment of Rousseau's aims I could not call anything other than praiseworthy. In the first part I think he tends to get carried away with analogies in the proper care of an infant. But always in view is the idea of making Emile self-reliant. In this respect, it would not be at all practicable a method for the parents of more than one child, nor for those who did not have the money or leisure to carry out the method in contrived solitude.

However, in promoting independence it does seem strange how utterly dependent Emile is in regards to his tutor. Also, how his age is always taken into consideration, as if experience judged by the experienced (before the pupil is even a real person) had sovereign right to dictate what was and wasn't natural. Furthermore, although Rousseau professes to have a plan for acquainting Emile with other men, the workings of society, and eventually woman, once again we should remember that his method is untried. Even so, Rousseau is always quick to point out that his pupil is a specific case, that each pupil would be different and that the main goal of a tutor should be to observe and know his pupil rather than to teach any specific material.

The book is subdivided into five books, the last of which is almost a romance novel. Emile has more-or-less an arranged marriage, though he does not know it. If we grant that Rousseau could be capable of pre-picking a girl to Emile's liking, it is a rather enchanting tale, a treatment of courtship in the classic sense of the word. I even think he does a reasonable job of portraying the girl's feelings - although he seems quite insensitive to her embarrassments, a quality I hope he does not expect Emile to share. Oh, and her father has a deplorably cruel sense of humor!

...but on the whole, it is a good read for anyone interested in the history of educational philosophy.