Deceiving Love

Start of a New Assignment

English was always an interesting class. It was full of the hipster wannabes, the jocks that just had to take this class to graduate and one person who took the class for the joy of it. I love literature. History and literature go hand and hand. To understand literature, one must understand the history of the author and the history of the time. I have always loved learning about cultures of times and races. British literature brings a plethora of different characters to learn about from Virginia Woolf to Shakespeare to Jane Austin to Charles Dickens to J. K. Rowling. They all have a past and it formed the foundation for who they are and what they write. This class is one of my all time favorites. The teacher really pushes the class to write and create to the best of our ability.

We are supposedly getting a new project today. This is an individual, outside of class project. He said he'd go over it at the end of class. Today, we are talking about Jane Austin. Next Week we are discussing the Bronte sisters. The week after that we are reading Virginia Woolf. She is one of my favorites.

"Who knows where Jane Austin was born?"

I raised my hand and he gestured towards me. "Stevenson, England".

"Correct, Now, who can tell me what the original name for the book we are reading is?"

I raised my hand, but he said he wanted someone else to answer. We sat in awkward silence for what felt like five minutes. It was probably more like thirty seconds.

"Okay. Can anyone tell me what book we are reading?"

Again I raised my hand and again he denied me. We waited another couple minutes, before he finally gave in.

"The book we are reading is Sense and Sensibility", I answered, "and the novel was originally titled after the coming of age sisters Elinor and Marianne".

"Very good! Glad to know that someone pays attention!...only kidding...only kidding...."