Starlight

XXI: Promises

Don't promise me fair sky above
Don't promise me kind road below
Just walk with me, my love
Any way the wind blows

- 'Promises', Hadestown

xx.xx

"Does anyone else have any thoughts on War and Peace before we end today's seminar?"

Professor Carroll stalked around the group, eyes flicking between each of the downright drowsy literature students.

They should be refreshed, invigorated! After all, the Winter break had just ended - surely they ought to have rested well. This was the logical answer, however, and Carroll knew that for all their intelligence and study, students were rarely logical.

She could tell from the dark shadows under their eyes and their lethargy: they had likely spent the whole month partying. She didn't blame them, of course. She would have done the same, had she been their age.

Trying to get them to discuss Tolstoy had been like trying to get blood from a stone. For two hours they had sat in awkward silence, mumbling the odd half-hearted analysis of Helene Kuragina's actions, or a lazy evaluation of the role of moon imagery.

One of them, however, had surprised her this session. It wasn't that Robbie Franks was bad at English - she just always seemed so far away, her silver eyes on the text but not quite focused on the words.

But today, she was present. She was awake. She was the only one of them who seemed to be really be listening, thinking, feeling.

Carroll knew that Robbie had been dealing with some difficulties, during the last semester and throughout the whole of her life, really - and wondered with a smile whether this meant things were starting to look up for her. She listened to the girl talk about the novel's themes, lofty ideas about life, love loss - it was as if she had been living on autopilot and had finally switching it off, taking control of the wheel for the first time in months.

The girl's hand rose again, and Carroll smiled. May as well let her have the final point.

"Yes, Robbie?"

"Sorry, this isn't about the novel itself, but..." She set the book down, maintaining eye contact now. "Did you know that they turned part of it into a musical?"

"I did not."

"Yeah, someone, uh, someone recommended it to me recently. One of Denisov's lines from early in the text..." She flicked through the first few pages. "Yep, it's this line from Volume One: 'We sleep when we don't love. We are children of the dust'. It's actually given to Pierre in the stage show."

Carroll leaned again the desk, arms folded. "And?"

"And... I think that gives us a pretty interesting insight into Pierre's psyche. He believes the world is ending, right? He talks about it as if he almost wants it to happen. He feels that he's wasted his life and needs a second chance but can't put a finger on why. By giving that line to Pierre we get to understand why more clearly. It's because he's trapped in this loveless marriage. He's never felt real love so he's still asleep; he's alone, he's uhh..." The girl smiled at something unknown with a warm playfulness. "He's basically a recluse."

Carroll nodded. She was onto something here. "And does that change?"

Robbie paused for a moment, looking upward, turning the book over and over in her hands. "Yes. Because... because at first, he talks about the end of the world and his death almost fondly. But later, when the comet comes - a comet which is actually meant to foretell the end of everything - he sees it as the beginning of a new life instead, because he's finally realized his love for Natasha. If we believe what Denisov says then Pierre has finally woken up. Because of love."