The Weight of Words (The WORDS Series) (42 page)

By the time Aubrey arrived with Julie, there were six seats left, three of them in a row along the side of the table nearest me. Aubrey chose the farthest seat, and Julie took a seat between us. I couldn’t bear to look at Aubrey or permit myself to acknowledge the pain her presence aroused in me. I had to stay focused on my job.

I was about to begin when Neil Hammond, a shy young man with chronic acne, rushed in and sat beside me. I assumed that would be it for today. Cara and Lindsay had been notably absent from class.

While everyone unpacked their books and settled in, I took a moment to try to make sense of my papers which were a chaotic mess, mirroring my brain perfectly. I assumed a business-like tone and launched into the day’s topic.

“Welcome back. Today we have to try to squeeze in a quick discussion of both
Antony and Cleopatra
and
Othello
, so let’s get started. Based on Professor Brown’s lectures this week or thinking about your own reaction to the play, what did you learn from reading
Antony and Cleopatra
?” I asked, trying to open general discussion.

I was met with silence; the only sounds were some throat clearing and paper shuffling.

Come on. Someone say something
.

“Life’s a bitch and then you die?” Shawn said, laughing softly.

This was a classic knee-jerk reaction to the uncomfortable atmosphere and undoubtedly a reference to Antony and Cleopatra’s tragic story, but it was also an unfortunate reminder of Mary’s absence.

“And if you’re dating a bitch, you’ll want to die sooner,” Vince added.

The two of them looked at each other and chortled.

“Well, that’s not the most critical literary analysis of the play I’ve ever heard,” I said dryly.

I wasn’t sure how to proceed. I didn’t want to be too heavy-handed on the first tutorial since Mary had passed; by the same token, I didn’t want the session to be reduced to a three-ringed circus, either. The space around Aubrey was virtually crackling with tension. Even Julie seemed completely on edge. Was it safe to assume she knew what had happened? I hadn’t talked to Jeremy so it was difficult to know for sure.

Whereas in the past I’d always counted on Aubrey and Julie to have something intelligent to say, I concluded that neither one of them was going to do anything to save my ass today.

But I was wrong. Sort of.

Aubrey looked across at Vince. In a weary monotone, she said, “The nineteen fifties called, Vince. They want their uninformed, narrow-minded views back.”

“Wow, Aubrey, settle down,” Vince said.

She looked at him disparagingly. I couldn’t blame her. His comment had been pretty asinine.

“Don’t talk to me like I’m a frigging five-year-old. And for the record, just because Cleopatra is strong and powerful, that doesn’t make her a bitch.” She looked vacantly up at the windows on the opposite wall, crossing her arms in front of her.

Shawn and Vince exchanged a look that said, “Who the hell pissed in her cornflakes?”

Julie glanced at her sympathetically. People shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Would it be inappropriate to dismiss the tutorial after only five minutes? I had to do something and quickly.

“Well, I may not agree with the word choice used to voice the opinion, but I’d echo Miss Price’s sentiments,” I said, trying to elevate the tone of the discussion. “A few weeks ago, we broached the topic of misogyny, and as it turns out, Miss Price is pursuing that topic with her independent study.”

Simply saying those words called to mind our so-called meeting to discuss her topic at the Pratt Library. Aubrey raised her eyes to mine, and I felt like she could see right through me and knew exactly where my mind had wandered. Her lips were pursed, and her jaw was tense and set. I couldn’t understand where she got off looking at me as if
I’d
been to one to rip her heart out. I took a deep breath and broke eye contact.

“I don’t necessarily agree that Shakespeare is being misogynistic in
Antony and Cleopatra
,” I continued. “Some critics argue that Shakespeare was modeling Cleopatra on Queen Elizabeth. Cleopatra’s expertise in guile and seduction make the male characters around her uneasy, but ask yourselves if it necessarily follows that Shakespeare intended this portrayal as a negative one. You’d all do well to think about that. Always consider context when assuming a theoretical or critical lens in textual analysis.”

Shawn interjected, attempting to give credence to Vince’s ridiculous analysis. “Maybe what Vince’s saying is that Antony was a total mess because of Cleopatra. She totally screwed with his head. He lost everything because of her.”

Trina, a slight girl whose hair color seemed to change weekly and who often seemed surly and reluctant to share her opinions, put up her hand. I was open to any contributions today, and Trina’s
Hamlet
paper had been good. She was no slouch intellectually.

“Miss Collins?”

“Cleopatra didn’t hold a gun to Antony’s head,” she said. “He followed her ships and lost the battle at sea because of a poor military decision. Even Enobarbus said Antony’s affection beat his captainship. That’s not Cleopatra’s fault.”

I held my tongue, waiting to see if Shawn would respond.

He leaned forward. “But later she totally manipulated him. Like, when she sent word that she was dead when she really wasn’t? That’s mind games, pure and simple. Right, Daniel?”

All eyes turned to me, expecting me to mediate. It was time to fall back on my lecture notes. I looked at the collection of papers in front of me and immediately realized I wasn’t going to be able to make sense of them. Instead, I tossed my pen on the table and rubbed my temples, hoping I could patch together a coherent response.

“It’s not surprising that there’s such a varied reaction to the play and differing opinions about who is most deserving of pathos,” I argued. “The psychology of the characters is central to the plot, but we don’t get a clear idea of what’s going on in their minds because of the lack of soliloquy.”

“Oh, yeah. I never really noticed that,” Neil mused.

“We don’t have the same benefit of constant dramatic irony that we have when reading
Hamlet
or
Macbeth
, for instance,” I said. “You may
think
you understand a character’s thoughts and motivations, but you can’t always be entirely sure. We can either assume the characters’ words are true, or constantly distrust their veracity, which isn’t a pleasant notion. This, of course, is the way relationships work in life.”

Aubrey held up her hand as if she were flagging down a taxi.

“Let me understand this, Daniel. You’re basically saying that in life we should give people the benefit of the doubt, because otherwise we’d all be going around mistrusting everyone all the time. Am I following?”

Holy fuck. Is she serious? If I survive this hour, it’ll be an act of God.
I picked up my pen and tapped it thoughtfully on my notepad.

“I suppose that’s a valid interpretation, Miss Price. Unfortunately, sometimes people do things to make it quite clear that they haven’t been deserving of that leap of faith. I’m reminded of your words earlier in the semester about King Duncan. Look what happened to him.”

She expelled her breath in a huff, muttered something to Julie, and crossed her arms in irritation. I was fairly certain the whispered comment had been about me, but I couldn’t let that distract me. Around the room, her peers were beginning to look at her with confused expressions. Did she have no regard for the fact that we were in a room full of other people? I forced the discussion back to the play.

“Anyway, our interpretation is bound to be based on our prior experiences. I find that with a play like this, my understanding of the theme differs every time I read it, depending on the frame of mind I’m in.”

“But you’re on Antony’s side, right?” Shawn asked.

“Well, I don’t know if it’s as easy as taking sides, but I can understand his predicament,” I clarified. “Here’s a man caught between doing his duty and devoting himself to a woman. It’s an age-old dilemma.” I glanced at Aubrey. “He seems to know that being with her will bring him grief—”

“But he can’t stay away from her. He loves her too much,” piped up Neil. “There’s that line he says—I don’t remember it. She’s, like, fishing for a compliment or something, and he says something. It’s near the beginning. Daniel? Do you know what I mean?”

“Yes, I think I know exactly what you mean. Give me a second.” I turned quickly to the first scene. “Ah, here it is. Cleopatra asks for an assurance of how much he loves her, and he says, ‘
There’s beggary in the love that can be reckoned
.’ Is that the one you meant?” I asked.

Neil nodded, but seemed disinclined to comment further.

“That’s a significant line, I have to admit. Anyone have any thoughts?” I asked, looking around the room.

Julie’s hand flicked up. “Well, he’s saying that love that can be calculated or quantified is meaningless or lacking true value,” she said in a sad voice. “Essentially, he’s telling her that his love for her is so great that it defies measurement.”

“Precisely,” I said. “He can’t even articulate the depth of his feelings for her. So we shouldn’t be surprised that he’s prepared to sacrifice everything. And incidentally, that’s not a flippant decision for someone whose honor and reputation mean everything to him. This, essentially, is Antony’s psychological conflict. Cleopatra distracts him from his duties, and yet he’s unable to give her up. He simply can’t reconcile his clashing values.”

And, fuck me, do I ever identify with that feeling
.

Across the table Shawn was frowning.

“You disagree, Mr. Ward?” I asked.

“No, I wouldn’t say that, but it seems like a hell of a lot to give up for a woman’s love.”

“Again, it’s all about what we bring to the table. A reader who’s been prepared to make enormous sacrifices to secure someone’s love would not find his actions incomprehensible,” I pointed out.

Aubrey expelled another loud sigh. Against my better judgment, I decided to call her on it. “Something to add, Miss Price?”

She narrowed her eyes. I could almost see her synapses firing.

“Well, a minute ago, you said you weren’t taking sides. But that was fairly undisguised admiration for Antony as far as I can tell.” She sat upright in her chair and crossed her hands in front of her. “Do you think Cleopatra really loved him?”

I wasn’t sure if she was baiting me, but I carefully kept my comments within the scope of the play. “I don’t deny her feelings for him, but I can see how readers might second guess her motivations. The way she handles Antony involves a degree of changeability and opportunism which may make her seem capable of betraying him.”

All eyes were on us again. As we bandied ideas back and forth, I was reminded how much I loved intellectually sparring with her. Even in a state of conflict, we seemed to be connected by an invisible current. Everyone else in the room faded into the background.

Not surprisingly, Aubrey had a rebuttal at the ready. “Personally, I think she adores him,” she claimed. “After he’s died in her arms and she says,
‘The odds is gone, and there is nothing left remarkable beneath the visiting moon,
’ well, to me, that exemplifies the depth of her love.”

She never ceased to amaze me, again quoting directly from the play without even looking at her book. And she was right. That was one of the most heart-wrenching lines in the play. I wanted to shake her, rail at her for giving up on me. And in that moment, my heart betrayed me.
I
actually felt sorry for
her.

She seemed to have talked herself out. After holding my gaze for a moment, she lowered her eyes. I’d lost the thread of the discussion entirely, staring down the table stupidly. Luckily, Julie stepped in to fill the silence. “It was such a waste,” she observed. “You have to wonder what possessed either of them to behave the way they did.”

I recovered my equilibrium and picked up on her comment. “That’s part of Shakespeare’s genius. Here we have characters, like people, acting in response to a multitude of motivations. Readers might not be able to discern the reason for their behavior. What I find myself doing is wondering whether the characters themselves even understand why they’re behaving the way they are. Their psychological crises make them seem most human.”

“Well, they both frustrate me,” Julie said, looking at me boldly. “I’d like to take their heads and bash them together to knock some sense into them.”

Was it possible that Julie had now moved beyond the printed page and started talking about real life as well? If so, that meant she knew exactly what was going on between Aubrey and me. I had to bring this to a close. Comments were beginning to cut a little too close to the bone for my liking.

“Again, that’s the mark of a great writer, I suppose—to be able to elicit that reaction from you.” I collected my papers and flipped through to find my
Othello
notes. “I sense we’ve only skimmed the surface on these issues. I’ll be sure to tell Professor Brown what kinds of questions and themes have come up, and perhaps he’ll be good enough to include some of these relevant quotations on next Friday’s identification test. Now, sorry to rush things along, but we should spend some time discussing
Othello
before you go.”