A Story That All Should Know
The girl did not like English Literature very much. Sure she could speak English, but to read stories that were over 200, 300 pages long, her mind began to hurt. Maybe she wasn't as smart as everyone thought she was. The English language seemed harsh against her ears. And to think, back in high school, she loved to sprinkle her Japanese with English words. Whenever she did that, she felt like she was at the very height of cool.
The stories she had to read, they didn't make much sense to her. Her brother was right, she was more Japanese then she wished to admit. A young boy journeying down a river with a man whose outlawed for some reason, a woman and her baby shunned from society, a man who was arrested for not paying taxes during a war - things like these are considered great literature.
But read stories like that, she thought laughingly to herself, in newspapers and everyone will say it's a great scandal, not worth talking about even when putting on your jacket and shoes.
But there was one story she did love. The author must have fell in love once, and lost his love, because she could feel his sorrow and sadness steep from every one of his written words.
Tears streamed down her cheek as she read his words last night, quietly biting back her tears to Poky, her stuffed panda bear. So when Mrs. Tokuyama asked for a volunteer to read, she quietly raised her hand.
Upon her teacher's approving nod, she stood up, cleared her throat and spoke, softly at first, building with strength.
"What's here? A cup closed in my true love's hand?
Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end. -
O churl, drunk all, and left no friendly drop
To help me after! I will kiss thy lips.
Haply some poison yet doth hang on them
To make me die with a restorative.
Thy lips are warm!
Ye, noise. Then I'll be brief, O, happy dagger,
This is thy sheath. There rust and let me die." *
Love that was so strong that life meant nothing unless the other was alive. She didn't understand how anyone could write down such sorrow with such precise words, his pen must have been kissed by the gods. This was a story everyone should know.
As the class began to discuss the validity of the young lady's and her lover's relationship - they were so young, only 14, 15 years old? - she sat quietly by herself, smiling.
Just as love knows no limit, love knows no age. She stared out the window, touching her long hair with gentle fingers, and scanned the hazy horizon for some sign of reassurance. She found it in a bird that flew towards the sun.
To be in love. Even death, if given in love, can be sweet. She folded her hands in her lap and closed her eyes. Yes, this is a story everyone knows.
=====
* From William Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet, Act 5, Scene 3
The girl did not like English Literature very much. Sure she could speak English, but to read stories that were over 200, 300 pages long, her mind began to hurt. Maybe she wasn't as smart as everyone thought she was. The English language seemed harsh against her ears. And to think, back in high school, she loved to sprinkle her Japanese with English words. Whenever she did that, she felt like she was at the very height of cool.
The stories she had to read, they didn't make much sense to her. Her brother was right, she was more Japanese then she wished to admit. A young boy journeying down a river with a man whose outlawed for some reason, a woman and her baby shunned from society, a man who was arrested for not paying taxes during a war - things like these are considered great literature.
But read stories like that, she thought laughingly to herself, in newspapers and everyone will say it's a great scandal, not worth talking about even when putting on your jacket and shoes.
But there was one story she did love. The author must have fell in love once, and lost his love, because she could feel his sorrow and sadness steep from every one of his written words.
Tears streamed down her cheek as she read his words last night, quietly biting back her tears to Poky, her stuffed panda bear. So when Mrs. Tokuyama asked for a volunteer to read, she quietly raised her hand.
Upon her teacher's approving nod, she stood up, cleared her throat and spoke, softly at first, building with strength.
"What's here? A cup closed in my true love's hand?
Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end. -
O churl, drunk all, and left no friendly drop
To help me after! I will kiss thy lips.
Haply some poison yet doth hang on them
To make me die with a restorative.
Thy lips are warm!
Ye, noise. Then I'll be brief, O, happy dagger,
This is thy sheath. There rust and let me die." *
Love that was so strong that life meant nothing unless the other was alive. She didn't understand how anyone could write down such sorrow with such precise words, his pen must have been kissed by the gods. This was a story everyone should know.
As the class began to discuss the validity of the young lady's and her lover's relationship - they were so young, only 14, 15 years old? - she sat quietly by herself, smiling.
Just as love knows no limit, love knows no age. She stared out the window, touching her long hair with gentle fingers, and scanned the hazy horizon for some sign of reassurance. She found it in a bird that flew towards the sun.
To be in love. Even death, if given in love, can be sweet. She folded her hands in her lap and closed her eyes. Yes, this is a story everyone knows.
=====
* From William Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet, Act 5, Scene 3