"You have, the best hats." For a second or two he stood there, surprised at the comment, before bursting into hearty laughter.
"I'm sorry, but I just had to find an opportunity to say that and that was it."
He nodded in reply, still laughing, uttered a simple "thank you," then proceeded to take his seat next to the girl who gave the comment. The class was going to discuss Sophocles' "Oedipus the King" today. He flipped open the enormously clumsy anthology, and searched for the page where Oedipus had blinded himself. As he did so, Stephen Ramsay walked past his table, and dropped his documents on the desk.
"So, we begin by learning that Thebes had a plague, and Oedipus was charged of ridding this pollution by seeking the man who murdered the former ruler."
He had enjoyed these discussions. Every student in the room focused their sights on one man, and anticipated every word that was reiterated. Knowledge rested in the hearts of everyone, a dormant geyser patiently waiting for the moment to spout and deluge the room. Professor Ramsay continued his introductory speech. The attentiveness was intense. The book was still opened; he tried to steal a glance from the following dialogue "What can I see to love?" He still had four more pages left.
"Let's find that line again. I think it's on page 1582."
Immediately, there was a shuffling of pages, everyone was staring at the designated passage. All save but one fellow, who had his forefinger stuck on page 1582, but eyes set on 1593. He only had just a little more. Certainly, his knowledge on the play was more than sufficient to opine, but he wanted to finish the tragedy. That sense of completion is stronger than idle pretension, and he had no intention of lying his way through an argument. He had a strong one. In fact, he hoped it would make a couple of students giggle, but the geyser was still dormant, for now.
"What is it with this story? What does Oedipus, represent?"
The geyser erupted. He raised his hand.
"Han Sen."
"Reading this, I kinda made up the five 'Fs' of the story: Due to one's Faith in Fate, Feats born from Fear causes F***ed up events like this one."
Some students chortled, one even clapped. It's desired effect had been achieved, somewhat.
"Oedipus represents fear. He feared he would be the inevitable murderer of his father, husband of his mother, and subsequent father of his brothers."
"I disagree," said Paul, the class philosopher, "I wouldn't say Oedipus represents fear as much as he..."
And then I forgot what he said. Isn't this the best anti-climax you've ever encountered? Maybe I should consider investing in a voice recorder, and collect these moments as I walk through life so I can journal them in pages of my novels, or even on this blog.
But anyway, it was a fun discussion. We talked about how much ontrol one had over one's destiny and I certainly pity Oedipus, for his fate had pretty much been predestined even before he was born. But isn't it ironic? The Greeks acknowledged certain knowledge could only be afforded to and by the Gods, yet Apollo just had to tell Jocasta her son would rise to be the eventual murderer of her husband, Laius. And her attempt to reverse the prophecy, actually fulfilled it. I bet not even Apollo, as he sat on his flaming chariot watching this drama unfold through a celestial TV screen while eating popcorn, anticipated this epilogue.
"Dayum," would probably be his answer.
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