The Rehearsal by Eleanor Catton Read Free Book Online Page B

duller
     and more diffuse, until Isolde is standing in the creamy lilac light of a late-afternoon school corridor with all the lockers
     hanging empty and open and the chip packets scudding across the floor like silver leaves.
    “So I go, I was just wondering if I could get an extension or whatever, because things have been so hard at home—”
    And she seamlessly slides her sax off her shoulder and into her arms, holding it loosely underneath the bell with both hands,
     and pressing it flat against her pelvis in a casually protective way, as a man might hold a folder against himself, standing
     in a corridor with a student in a shaft of creamy lilac light after all the others have gone home.
    The saxophone teacher reflects how much she enjoys these changes, when Isolde slips out of one person and becomes another.
     Bridget is good at voices, but with Isolde the performance is always physical and total, like the unexpected shedding of a
     skin. The saxophone teacher shifts in her chair, and nods to show she’s listening.
    “And he shakes his head at me,” Isolde says, broadening now, rocking back on her heels and sucking in her belly so her chest
     inflates, “and he goes, Isolde, I am not the kind of teacher who ingratiates myself with my students in order to gain their
     love. That is not my style. I am the kind of teacher who gains popularity by picking a scapegoat. I do this in each and every
     class I teach. If I was to grant you an extension I would be a hypocrite and I would undermine my own methods.
    “He goes, Isolde, when I set out to gain the love of a student, I do not begin by granting them an extension when they don’t
     really need one. I begin by cultivating a culture of jealousy in my classroom. Jealousy is a key component to any classroom
     environment, because jealousy means competition and competition means excellence. It is only in a jealous classroom that a
     true and fervent love can blossom.
    “It is only once I am sure my students are well placed to become very jealous of each other that I pick my scapegoat. Picking
     a scapegoat is not easy, Isolde. It is not as easy as granting an extension to a student when they don’t really need one.
     Picking a scapegoat is a very difficult and delicate task. The trick—” and she brandishes her saxophone now, jabbing it into
     the air to emphasize what she is saying “—is not to pick the girl that everybody already genuinely dislikes. This will induce
     the other students to pity the scapegoat, and to become contemptuous of me because I am being cruel. I don’t want to be cruel
     to my students.
    “The trick is to pick the least original girl in the room. You want someone unoriginal because you want to be sure that they
     will behave exactly the same way every time you use them. You want someone unoriginal because you need them to be dull enough
     to believe that they are being singled out on the strength of their own comic merits. You need them to believe that the laughter
     you generate is inclusive laughter.
    “Isolde, he goes, I am a good teacher who is loved by my pupils. I gain their collective love by choosing a sacrificial victim
     on behalf of them all, not by currying favor with every individual student. It is a good method and I am a good teacher. I
     don’t want to give you an extension because your sister had sex and everyone found out and I feel sorry for you. I’ve explained
     my reasons. I’m sorry.”
    The lights fade back in. Isolde comes gracefully to an end and reattaches her saxophone to her neckstrap, ready for the lesson.
    “So you didn’t get an extension,” the saxophone teacher says as she rises.
    “No,” Isolde says. “He goes, What you need to learn, Isolde, is that life just isn’t fair.”
Friday
    It is a new and popular tradition at this secular school to purchase short-snouted plastic Coca-Cola bottles from the tuck
     shop, and then retrieve with a fingernail the little blue disc with a stiff rim that