People sometimes get the wrong impression about me; there are a growing number of them that seem to think I’m homosexual for example. I find this puzzling. I’m not even sure what it is that I do to give off such an aura of bummery save that I’m reasonably polite and that most of my friends are women. I don’t even think that that’s it, not unless people still adhere to derivative stereotypes in our modern world. I still don’t think that gives grounds for suspicion but there you go, it’s a strange world even if it is modern.
Many people do seem to misread me by default though, and I’m happy for them to do so. I’ve a simmering distaste for the general public and am quite happy to keep as many of them at arms length as is humanly possible. Some of the more persistent ones get to know me and realise that the grumpy, sardonic, nihilism is just a ruse and that’s cool, they beat the filter that is my personality and they become my friends. That makes me sound very judgemental and picky I know. I am.
I’m sure they don’t quite have me pegged yet though; in fact I’m certain of it. And I think it’s because of things like this.
We went out on the town last night, drank, danced, messed about. All the usual formalities. In the queue for the taxi however, things got a bit fraught. Someone said something, someone cried, someone made threats of violence, a poor attempt at mediation was made, there was a lot of loud mouthing off, someone was a cunt, ‘Yeah? Try it’ etc.
However, I missed all of this as I was stood about ten paces away jotting down the following in a slightly drunken fashion and mulling over whether I should expand on these thoughts in a self-indulgent, arty sort of way or leave them as they are. I think they’re definitely three distinct ideas as I wrote them all down separately on different scraps of paper, I even appended rudimentary titles. See for yourself.
Oh, you know.
I have loved beautiful women and spent time in their company. I have seen the sun rise with someone I love and done the things I thought impossible. What cause have I to grieve? What tears have I to shed for my happiness?
The carefree
I watched a room full of people dancing and realised this was as good as it gets. Love, hate, all was forgotten replaced by the now. Music, fun, and forgetfulness of the world outside. This is Elysium; this is the peace we seek. Happy days.
Duty
Sacrifice? I am a fool who holds his friends above himself and there is no helping me. Speak not of sacrifice.
I’m still not sure what I should do with my little pieces of prose. I quite like The Carefree; I think it works as a stand alone and there’s the vague air of a drunken epiphany about it. But Duty, as far as I’m concerned, is just a plagiarised notion from Mort d’Arthur. It’s reworded (obviously) but I suspect it was prompted by this passage and my general weakness for these sorts of themes.
“After the disappearance of Merlin from King Arthur’s court he was seriously missed, and many knights set out in search of him. Among others was Sir Gawain, who pursued his search till it was time to return to the court. He came into the forest of Broceliande, lamenting as he went along. Presently he heard the voice of one groaning on his right hand; looking that way, he could see nothing save a kind of smoke which seemed like air, and through which he could not pass; and this impediment made him so wrathful that it deprived him of speech. Presently he heard a voice which said,’Gawain, Gawain, be not out of heart for everything which must happen will come to pass.’ And when he heard the voice thus called him by his right name, he replied, ‘Who can this be who hath spoken to me?’ ”How,’ said the voice,’Sir Gawain, know you me not?’ You were wont to know me well, but thus things are interwoven and thus the proverb says true, ‘Leave the court and the court will leave you.’ So is it with me. Whilst I served King Arthur, I was well known by you and by other barons, but because I have left the court, I am known no longer, and put in forgetfulness, which I ought not to be if faith reigned in the world.’ When Sir Gawain heard the voice which spoke to him thus, he thought it was Merlin, and he answered, ‘Sir, certes I ought to know you well, for many times I have heard your words. I pray you appear before me so that I may be able to recognize you.’ ‘Ah, sir,’ said Merlin,’you will never see me more, and that grieves me, but I cannot remedy it, and when you shall have departed from this place, I shall nevermore speak to you nor to any other person, save only my mistress; for never other person will be able to discover this place for anything which may befall; neither shall I ever go out from hence, for in the world there is no such strong tower as this wherein I am confined; and it is neither of wood, nor of iron, nor of stone, but of air, without anything else; and made by enchantment so strong that it can never be demolished while the world lasts; neither can I go out, nor can any one come in, save she who hath enclosed me here and who keeps me company when it pleaseth her: she cometh when she listeth, for her will is here.” ‘How, Merlin, my good friend,’ said Sir Gawain, ‘are you restrained so strongly that you cannot deliver yourself nor make yourself visible unto me; how can this happen, seeing that you are the wisest man in the world?’ ‘Rather,’ said Merlin, ‘the greatest fool: for I well knew that all this would befall me, and I have been fool enough to love another more than myself, for I taught my mistress that whereby she hath imprisoned me in such a manner that none can set me free.’ ‘Certes, Merlin,’ replied Sir Gawain, ‘of that I am right sorrowful, and so will King Arthur, my uncle, be, when he shall know it, as one who is making search after you throughout all countries.’ ‘Well,’ said Merlin, ‘it must be borne, for never will he see me, nor I him; neither will any one speak with me again after you, it would be vain to attempt it; for you yourself, when you have turned away, will never be able to find the place: but salute for me the king and the queen and all the barons, and tell them of my condition. You will find the king at Carduel in Wales; and when you arrive there you will find there all the companions who departed with you, and who at this day will return. Now then go in the name of God, who will protect and save the King Arthur, and the realm of Logres, and you also, as the best knights who are in the world.’ With that Sir Gawain departed joyful and sorrowful; joyful because of what Merlin had assured him should happen to him, and sorrowful that Merlin had thus been lost.”
I’m not so sure about Oh, you know. I don’t know where that one sprang from or why, but it’s painfully emo isn’t it?
Back to the point, I could have been engaging in some drunken aggro but instead I was scribbling trite verse. I consider this to be odd behavior, very odd, and there would have been a time when I’d have worried about it, questioned if there was something wrong with me, wondered what other people thought, what my friends thought.
Now I just go with it because it’s who I am and because I’m happy.
It’s a small, but important, difference.
Your gayness definately comes across even though you are not. It wouldnt have suprised me. Strange but true.
Indeed. Anything in particular or just my general demeanour?
Ive been thinking about it and I cant put my finger on what has made me question your sexuality. The only thing is maybe your overt cultural intellectualism that overrides women and sex as a subject. There is an aloneness (not sure thats a word!) that has put you in my hetro/homo catergory of life! Its neither one thing or the other, just you.
JAMES WROTE:
People sometimes get the impression [that]I’m homosexual. I find this puzzling.
JAMES THEN WENT ON TO WRITE:
[Huge extract from super-girly Romance poem]
Well, I must say I prefer Jez’s explanation. A love of literature does not a homosexual make. And besides, it’s not a super-girly romance poem; it’s one of the first, and arguably one of the greatest, prose works in English. Granted the major theme is courtly love but I don’t see why that should matter particularly.
Roughly what you’re both saying is that I don’t talk about tits enough to be a 24 year old, heterosexual, male. Yes?
I didn’t mean to get into a literature argument with you here (it is not really my area as you can imagine).
What I am saying is that there is a strong social expectation for boys to be overtly masculine, or quietly feminine. For you to wonder why people find it hard to pin traditional gendered limitations on you and then to post a series of delicate reflections written while your peers were swinging fists just seemed a bit - shortsighted.
In my defence, I did not assume you were gay, but neither did I assume you were straight.
(Also, what version of Le Morte d’Arthur have you got there?)
Perhaps in real life as it were you talk about tits frequently or think about them, who knows ?! But i think you probably just think on a different level compared to the average 24 year old, forever ignited, fuelled by the intrigue of thought. Keep unique.
doesnt make him homosexual though!
A genius can often be perceived as different in some kind of way
Ok, so no arguments about literature. That’s fine. I’ve been inadvertently boring people with that sort of thing quite enough recently. I’m finding it hard to separate out my degree from the rest of my life, the mindset is quite hard to set aside.
I’ll concede my post was perhaps a little shortsighted though it’s initial intent was merely to stae that I’m quite happy with who I am at the moment rather than focusing on how people percieve my sexuality. It is a little disappointing though that some adults (who should know better and present company excepted) still adhere to largely outdated social stereotypes. Do they percieve a woman to be a lesbian for liking football and getting in fights I wonder.
Anyway, I’m glad to be lying somewhere inbetween typical gender roles and I suppose I’m glad that there’s no specific ‘box’ to put me in. I may be doing a survey as and when people get the wrong idea about me though, just to see what the consensus is.
Here’s to being unique.
Oh, and Lucy. It’s the Thomas Mallory version, this one in fact.
Whoever you come across in life that you end up loving, be it boy or girl. It doesnt matter. Thats how I feel.
And you’re right to feel so. Each to their own and all that.