I LOOK IN PEOPLE'S WINDOWS ~ CHARLIE DALTON [ENGLISH VERSION]

IV. ELECTRIC TOUCH

Another day in Keating's class, all the students were seated in their assigned places, except for Robin, who, being unable to participate in the classes and having to be tutored by Keating, just admired her father's lessons from wherever she liked. Anyway, she decided to stay seated in John's chair while he stood.

-Gentlemen and Robin... -the teacher said with a smile- Open your texts to page 21 of the introduction. Robin, you'll be in charge of choosing. Come on! Pick anyone -He said with enthusiasm as she scanned the classroom, looking for the perfect candidate.

-Neil, you're up -He tilted his head slightly while frowning and smiling at Robin- The opnening pharagraph of the preface entitled "Understanding poetry"

-'Understanding poetry' by Dr. J. Evans Pritchard, PhD. To fully understand poetry, we must first be fluent with its metre, rhyme and figures of speech. Then ask two questions. One: How artfully has the objective of the poem been rendered? And two: How important is that objective? Question one rates the poem's perfection. Question two rates its importance. And once this questions have been answered, determining the poem's greatness becomes a relatively simple matter. If the poem's score for perfection is plotted on the horizontal of the graph and its importance is plotted on the vertical... -Neil looked at the board where John was drawing graphs- ...Then calculating the total area of the poem, yields the measure of its greatness. A sonnet by Byron may score high on the vertical, but only average on the horizontal. A Shakespearean sonnet, on the other hand, would score high both horizontally and vertically, yielding a massive total area, thereby revealing the poem to be truly great. As you proceed through the poetry in this book, practice this rating method. As your ability to evaluate poems in this matter grows, so will your enjoyment and understanding of poetry.

Neil sets the book down and takes off his glasses. The student sitting across from him is discretely trying to eat. Keating turns away from the chalkboard with a smile, Revealing behind him the graph on the blackboard, showing the axes of Perfection, Importance, and Greatness.

-Excrement. That's what I think of Mr. J. Evans Pritchard. We're not laying pipe, we're talking about poetry -Keating said, breaking the silence- How can you describe poetry like American Bandstand? -he asked, sounding a bit mocking- I like Byron. I gave him a 42, but I can't dance to it.

Robin noticed a certain excitement on Charlie's face. She wasn't sure if it was the mention of American Bandstand or the fact that her dad was criticizing something in the textbook that was making the guy happy. But that smile gave her a sense of happiness; it was then that she began writing in her notebook.

-Now I want you to rip out that page.

The students fell into complete silence.

-Go on -he insisted- Rip out the entire page! -They all laughed and noded their heads- You heard me. Rip it out. Rip it out!

They remained still; something about the request kept them from taking action. But, as usual, Charlie was the first to do it. He ripped out the page dramatically, making sure the whole class paid attention, especially Robin. All the guys turned to watch him as he held the sheet triumphantly.

-Thanks, Mr. Dalton. -John applauded as he turned to the class- Tell you what, dont just tear out that page, tear out the entire introduction. I want it gone, history. Leave nothing of it. Rip it out. Rip. Be gone, J. Evans Pritchard, Ph.D. Rip, shred, tear, Rip it out. I want to hear Nothing but ripping of Mr. Pritchard- John's words encouraged all the students to start tearing up the introduction. Robin noticed how the redhead hesitated to make such a decision, so she decided to help him.

-It's not the Bible -Robs said to Cameron with a laugh- You're not going to hell for it. Come on!

Cameron looked at her for a moment; he didn't know how, but there was something about Robin that, like John, inspired people. Without hesitation, he grabbed his ruler and used it to cut the page, then looked at Robin.

-It's somewhere to start, innit? -she said with a smile.

John walked to the small office in search of a trash can for the students to throw their paper into. Some students began tossing paper wads through the air, making sure they didn't hit the girl, who kept writing in her notebook as if nothing was happening. But when she looked up, she saw a shadow in the doorway, so she ducked under the desk to avoid being seen. Although her presence wasn't forbidden, she didn't want to get in trouble.

-What the hell is going on here? -McAllister shouted in a demanding tone, causing the students to stop ripping and throwing.

-I don't hear enough rips! -John yelled as he came out of the office. That's when he saw the professor standing in the doorway and Robin hiding under her desk.

-Mr. Keating -He greeted from the door, surprised.

-Mr. McAllister -John nodded.

-Sorry. I didn't know you were here.

- I am.

-Ah, so you are. Excuse me -He apologized before leaving the room. The classroom remained silent for a few moments until Charlie broke the quiet.

-Hey, Birdie! You can come out now.

Robin gave a thumbs-up, but then it disappeared. When John looked to his side, she was lying on the floor with her hands covering her face; that was all that showed from under the edge of the desk, causing confused laughter among the students.

-Thanks, Mr. Dalton. Robs, are you planning to stay on the floor?- she just nodded her head, still lying on the floor- Alright then, keep ripping, gentlemen! This is a battle. A war. And the casualities could be your hearts and souls -Keating moved around the classroom, having the students throw their papers in the trash can he was carrying- Armies of academics going forward measuring poetry. No. We'll not have that here. No more of Mr. J. Evans Pritchard. Now, in my class, you will learn to think for yourselves again. You will learn to savour words and lenguage.

As everyone settled, Keating walked through the rows of desks.

-No matter what anybody tells you, words and ideas can change the world. I see that look in Mr. Pitts' eye. Like 19th-century literature has nothing to do with going to business school or medical school, right? Maybe. Mr. Hopkins, you may agree with him, thinking, 'Yeah, we should simply study our Mr. Pritchard and learn about rhyme and meter and go quietly about the business of achieving other ambitions'. I have a little secret for you. Huddle up. ¡Huddle up!

All the guys grouped near John, but the guys stood behind him, as Robin wasn't planning to get up. She had been her dad's assistant for many years; these kinds of talks were routine for her, so she didn't feel the need to join in, even though she could hear perfectly from the floor.

- We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for -He paused to look at the students, then continued- To quote from Whitman, "O me! O life!... of the questions of these recurring; of the endless trains of the faithless... of cities filled with the foolish; what good amid these, O me, O life?" Answer. That you are here - that life exists, and identity; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. That the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse -Keating looked at Todd; although his words were for everyone, he knew this specific verse was for him- What will your verse be?

The bell rang. The students left the room except for the group of friends, who lingered for a few seconds, reflecting. They looked at Robin; she seemed ready to take a nap where she was, but they weren't going to let that happen. Charlie and Knox approached her; both extended their hands to help her up, and she accepted, but in an instant, the girl pulled them down, and they ended up lying beside her, laughing heartily with everyone present in the group. Charlie felt how the girl's electric touch made him feel... alive