Hello! And welcome to the first of hopefully a series of writing documenting the awkward moments and observations in my real life that might be socially inappropriate to share. These entries don't have to be read in order, and I'd actually prefer if you read the later entries (ie, after chapter 15); I like to think they're more sophisticated.

Yes, this really belongs in a blog, but hey, I'm lazy, so…

I present to you Potpourri.

Disclaimer: I'm looking for comments regarding the subject matter of my various entries, out of genuine interest. Reviews will not be returned for this, though I will reply to each one. If you want to get feedback on your writing via review exchange, please read Like Eiderdown and Disendowers.

4/29/2011

Is Hemingway Sexier than Einstein?

To begin, allow me ramble about the theme of LE&D (check it out, you know you want to). Yup, teacher student romances.

I feel like every other teacher/student romance story involves a particularly charming English teacher rather than a dashing older mentor in math/science/history/languages. Is there a reason why authors of said stories gravitate towards English teachers?

I mean, I personally find physics the sexier subject (kidding!).

Yet, only in English class will you get to meet Randle McMurphy, Romeo, John Proctor, and all the other supersmexy literary figures. I don't care much for Usher or Eminem, but I'd pee my pants if Jay Gatsby moved next door to me. Not to mention, Papa Hemingway's got the sex appeal, especially if you're interested in the brawny, over-the-top masculine type. And in my personal opinion, F. Scott Fitzgerald would be very handsome if he ditched the hair gel.

The author of a teacher/student romance -not the let's make graphic love after class in the first chapter kind of story- involving an English teacher gets to work with all these wonderful, sexually charged people, real or fictional, to spiffy the story up. In the math science world? Well, I'm sure there's someone out there who digs that picture of Einstein with his tongue sticking out...

(Granted, Winston Smith and George Orwell don't rank high on the list of attractive characters and authors, but how many people allude to 1984 when they're writing romance?)

In addition, it's easy to feel intimate with your English teacher just because the class is rather subjective (therefore it's easy to assume you're getting a good grade because Mr. or Ms. So and So likes you, even at a platonic level), you often feel like you're putting your heart and soul into your writing, and with texts like Romeo and Juliet and One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, you get away with discussing otherwise inappropriate topics. Think "my pump well flowered" (Shakespeare) or "that whambam-thank-you-ma'am… makes me a rabbit" (Kesey).

Comparatively, "OMG, he just told me E = mc squared!" just isn't quite as steamy.

Of course, that implies the authors of this genre write in part due to self-indulgent wish-fulfillment, which I don't believe is always the case.

Then again, in school a couple months ago, I saw an English teacher whom I don't know very well, other than that he's young and very popular with students, watching the sunrise in the hills with a distant and incredibly dreamy expression on his face. My knee jerk reaction was, aww... that's so incredibly sweet! Do people in the humanities just have a more romantic outlook than people in the sciences?

If this post above didn't bore you to tears, I'd greatly appreciate it if you could input your thoughts on the matter. If your guilty reading pleasure is of the T/s variety, are you Team Ernest or Team Albert? Got it? Thanks!