Полная версия
MY NY University
«Okay, now, let’s pass over to your home assignment. What was it, Ella?»
I was really happy he’d been asking me more often than the others.
I was flattered. And I’d try even more, for Andrew to be impressed. No, for me to steal the scene for him! To be like the excellent brightness of the sun!
«Well, it was about the Anglo-Saxons,» I started. «They…»
«No, no, Ella!» He interrupted me. «I only asked you what the assignment was. Let’s listen to somebody else. You’ve already shown your knowledge today.»
What? How come? I’d been preparing for his class for the whole night!
He smiled. First, he asked me anyway! It seems like he quickly changed his mind.
«Now, Catherine!» he called the girl.
Catherine’s my best friend. I just call her Kate. It suits her better. Kate’s a dark-haired girl. She’s got big brown eyes. She’s a Jew. Jews are so nice! They always treat you as if you belonged to them, even if you aren’t! So, I treat her as if she belonged to the English too. We’re finger and thumb. And we both studied in America, far away from our homelands, so we were in the same boat. In contrast to her, I have got blue eyes and fair hair.
Kate lived in the student hostel with me. Her room was just next to mine. Her mother is a Jew too, and her father is an American. They both lived in California at that time.
I’ve also got another best friend, Tülay. She’s from Turkey, but she studies in London. We always write letters to one another: I send mine to the UK, and she gets hers to the USA. Tülay lives in London with her family, and she has decided it’d be better for her to stay there. And I’m a Bedouin. I like going from one place to another. That’s why I’m here, in New York.
«So, Catherine?» Andrew asked, distracting me from my thoughts.
«Just call me Kate,» she said. «It’d be more convenient for you to call my name when you need.»
«Okay. Sure! So, Kate…» he paused, «tell us all about the Anglo-Saxons, the Anglo-Norman language and all that jazz.»
I felt sorry for Kate. How would she make her speech?
Fortunately, she did it very well.
After Kate’s speech, Andrew turned to me:
«So, Ella, see how well-prepared she is? You should take an example by your friend!»
«Of course,» I said and then smiled too.
I wanted to watch his reaction. I smiled sincerely indeed. I’m not a bad girl. I don’t have any false feelings. Frankly speaking, I don’t even know how one can show false emotions. Your feelings and emotions must be truly sincere.
He stood, his mouth wide open. He didn’t say anything.
After some time, he continued speaking:
«Okay, that’s it. Now, let’s pass over to our today’s topic. And it’s not William Shakespeare,» he looked at me cunningly. He looked at me again!
«What’s it?» Sally asked.
«It’s Beowulf,» Andrew smiled.
«What?» Edward’s mouth formed an O.
«Beowulf, Edward,» Andrew said, his speech seasoned with irony.
«And who’s Beowulf?» Edward seemed to have just woken up.
«Well, Edward doesn’t even understand where he is,» the teacher laughed. «Do you, Edward?»
«No.»
«I see that too,» the man went on smiling.
«How about thinking big, Edward?»
«It can pay to, though,» the boy agreed.
«Okay, okay,» Andrew paused. «Let me put you in the picture about Beowulf. Beowulf is an Old English epic poem, one of the most important works of Old English literature. And did you know that the story is set in the 6th century? In other words, in the year dot.»
I thought about what he had just said. Was «the year dot’ the same as the 6th century?
Then, I asked the question to Andrew. He laughed.
«I think so. And why are you asking, Ella?»
«Because I don’t think it’s the same thing,» I replied boldly.
«Nice try!» Andrew chuckled. «But don’t you know that everything too old can be called happening in the year dot?» He looked at me.
Everybody stayed silent.
«Now, back to the topic,» the professor said. «In fact, Beowulf hits the spot just out of the gate. First – because it’s written in Old English. Second – it’s not just odds and ends but the blend of fictional, legendary and historic elements.»
I tried to listen attentively.
«And what about dialects of Old English? Do you know any?» he asked.
No answer.
«Okay. We’ll speak about that later. Now, another question. Would you like to study Old English as a foreign language?»
I said:
«Yes, I’d love to. Studying and speaking another language is quite cool for a person.»
«Why do you think so?» he asked.
«Because any language develops our mind.»
«Indeed?» he smiled. «Okay. And what about speaking it? Do you find it hard? Does it give you any trouble to speak Old English?»
«I don’t think so,» I answered. «By the way, Old English isn’t that foreign, I suppose. First, it’s the same English, but a bit old.»
«So what? And what’d be your further reasons?»
«I didn’t finish yet. Second, if the language is old, it’s a variation of our mother tongue. Am I not right?»
«Actually, it depends on the perspective.» Andrew paused. «Now, what I’d like to pinpoint your attention upon is the characters of the poem…»
And so, he spoke up to the end of the class.
I admired him. He was so smart and intelligent! How could one person know everything that he had put on the line during the class? He did it very well. He could hit the ground running in a few moments! He wasn’t down-to-earth in any way. He acted his age. He always carried his point.
I wanted to be like him. But for me, it’d be quite a job. I couldn’t have such a hard-nosed attitude as he had. Andrew was full of beans at each class! We had his classes twice a week, but still, the payoff was seen. At least for me.
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