rj_anderson | Fictional Crush Meme Redux

Current Mood: silly

Entry tags:

Fictional Crush Meme Redux

I just went and looked at

lizbee's page and discovered that she'd included TV, movie and comics characters, too. Well, then:

- The Fifth Doctor
- Mirth, and Sean Knight (but especially Mirth), from Matt Wagner's Mage: The Hero Discovered
- Jamie, from Truly, Madly, Deeply

And back on the literary side, I know who I forgot:

- Mr. Knightley, from Jane Austen's Emma

Duh, how could I have forgotten him?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"My apologies if that remark, or anything I said above, sounded in any way snotty or adversarial . . ."

No, dear, of course it didn't! 8-) But since you bring up the point of personal experience, let me take it from there. And if I sound unreasonable, well, that won't be anything new; I frequently AM unreasonable.

Back to Mr. Knightley. When I said I think highly of him, I meant it; he has many sterling qualities and I should be so lucky as to have such a man care for me. It's just that one moment I have an iggle with--I have a visceral reaction to it, as if a cold hand had closed around my heart. And I'm afraid it *is* based on personal experience. For all of what people say about the beneficial aspects of suffering, I've seldom found it to be so in my experience. Without going into boring details, let's say I understand the sort of chronic resentment of suffering in which C.S. Lewis began his book A Grief Observed, and I could take the line from Shadowlands: "It won't do. This is a bloody awful mess and that's all there is to it." Most of the worst experiences of my life haven't been learning experiences, or things I can look back on and say, "Well, it was bad but I see that I've derived good from it in this way." No. I regard them as I regarded algebra: a dreary business that I had to go through for some reason undisclosed to me and from which I derived no good whatosever.

Anyway, I'm afraid it's because of things like that that my hackles go up when someone ventures to pronounce that a painful experience might do someone good. It certainly is true at times, no question. And as you point out, the motive for saying it may be profound love for the other individual. But as you also point out, be prepared and willing to suffer yourself if you think it might do someone else good. I'm in the Thoreau camp on this one: "If I knew that someone were coming to my house with the conscious intention of *doing me good* I would run for my life." For me, Mr. Knightley still shows better during the Box Hill incident; I prefer that honest indignation that at least has some warmth in it--warmth, indeed, it's blazing hot!--to that cool pronouncement about Emma in love.

Also, Rebecca, you already know that when it comes to Austen men, I'm a Colonel Brandon woman from the word go! ;-) Already was before the film, and seeing Alan Rickman play Brandon pretty well cemented it for me, I'm afraid. But now that I think about it, I believe it's because I feel very safe and comforted by the patience and tolerance of Brandon. I'll take a line from Jo March here: "Sometimes a kind word can govern me when all the king's horses and all the king's men can't."

Hmmm, now I'm off on another thought: I was just musing that Brandon's tolerance might be a real disaster in dealing with Emma, and that Mr. Knightley wouldn't get along at all with Marianne Dashwood, probably because he's too much like her sister Elinor! Now I'm ringing all sorts of changes on switching Austens pairs of lovers around and seeing how they would suit each other . . .

Sorry to ramble on like this. I got carried away. 8-)
Mary Anne

algebra: a dreary business that I had to go through for some reason undisclosed to me and from which I derived no good whatosever.

The perfect definition! (*awaits the well-mannered reproach of

dr_c*) The other week I said to my brother that I never did well at math because I resent numbers for not being letters. Only algebra is worse, because the numbers have the nerve to pretend they're letters just to throw you off...

I like your idea of playing the Austen switcheroo. Allow me to further suggest that Emma would have driven Darcy absolutely insane, and that the combination of Knightley and Fanny (much as I like them both as individuals) would have been intolerable...

Actually, I don't at all dispute that algebra is often studied "for reasons undisclosed," thus quite naturally resulting in "no good whatsoever" for the student. But I perceive that as a problem more with how it is taught-- and, perhaps, when and to whom-- than with the subject itself. My preference would be to see Algebra taught in conjunction with Business/Economics, Trigonometry with Electricity, and Calculus with Physics; then the students would have a chance to see what the equations are good for. Math only becomes useful when it's applied, after all.

Oh, I like that idea. Yes, I think it would help a good deal.

I got a really terrific Math teacher in Grade Eleven, and even learned to enjoy bits of algebra (particularly geometry) but by then it was too late for me, alas...

"I never did well at math because I resent numbers for not being letters. Only algebra is worse, because the numbers have the nerve to pretend they're letters just to throw you off..."

It's strange. I've always disliked math, even when I could *do* it. In first grade we had a paperback math book called Mathematics We Need. I distinctly remember crossing out "Need" on the cover and writing in "Hate" so this feeling of mine has been around for a while.

The thing is, I could do math as long as only numbers were involved--I didn't like it but I could do it. But I remember a day in seventh grade when the teacher was introducing us to pre-algebra. It was the first time I'd ever seen equations with numbers and letters . . . and to this day I can remember a cold feeling of panic and the sensation that a door had just closed in my mind. SLAM. It was as if I knew instantly that I'd never, ever be able to do this. The memory is so vivid that I can even remember how the classroom smelled at that moment.

Ninth grade algebra was an exercise in futility. Some parts were better than others, but it was mostly a waste of time for me and for the teacher; I simply couldn't do it and didn't know why I couldn't do it. And the thing I hated most: the teacher would explain a concept and demonstrate with some problems, and it would be clear in the classroom--but when I got home and tried to do my homework, POOF. All understanding had vanished. I'm not convinced that any attempts at "context" for those equations would have helped me one whit.

The one and only teacher who ever made it remotely understandable or palatable to me was one in college. One thing she did NOT do was send people to the chalkboard alone to work problems and be humiliated before the whole class, and for that I'll always be grateful. But even though I did better with her, I still remember next to nothing of what I managed to learn there. Is it any wonder I equate suffering with algebra?

Also, did anyone else have the experience of being lousy at algebra but good at geometry? It seems this happens quite frequently--if you do well at one you do poorly at the other. In tenth grade my math difficulties disappeared for a time and I raced through geometry--probably the easiest year of math I ever had. Wonder why? I seem to remember that I could actually see some uses for geometry, and a lot of it had to do with simply memorizing principles and seeing how to apply them in a proof. Memorizing was something I could do, at least.

Hmmm, Rebecca, this seems to be my thread for rambling quite a bit . . . ;-)
Mary Anne

I was lousy at algebra but good at geometry and trig. Go figure.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Fictional Crush Meme Redux

Re: Mr. Knightley

Re: Mr. Knightley

Re: Mr. Knightley

Re: Mr. Knightley

Numbers and letters

Re: Numbers and letters