The Theban Mysteries by Amanda Cross Read Free Book Online Page B

thought, it would have been lipstick. Also in my day, she realized looking around, we always wore the uniforms. These girls wore different-color shirts with pants or odd skirts. I refuse to think about the question of uniforms, Kate thought, deciding that the reasons for not teaching in the school you have yourself attended are numerous, though hidden.
    “Elizabeth McCarthy. I understand,” Kate added, “that you’re new to the Theban this year, having transferred from the Sacred Heart in Detroit. Did you know that when you transferred to the Theban you would get seminars?”
    “She came because she’s what my little brother calls a Roaming Catholic,” Betsy Stark said.
    Elizabeth McCarthy smiled at this sally. “I’ve always been with the Mesdames,” she said, “and when we moved to New York I thought I’d like to switch. I’ve had seven years of Latin, but no Greek.”
    “Let’s be quite clear about the whole question of Greek,” Kate said. “The last Greek I had was in this very building a long time ago, so I will be glad to learn from those of you who know Greek, and happy to share my ignorance with those of you who don’t. And you,” Kate added, turning to the last girl, “must be Alice Kirkland.”
    “If I must I must,” the girl said. Kate raised her eyebrows, but decided to let that one pass. “Ride easy with it,” Julia had advised, and Kate was prepared to follow this counsel up to a point. She was, as always, astonished to discover how sharply she reacted to rudeness.
    “That takes care of that,” Kate said. “Now, to return to the verse which appeared and disappeared, in each case so provocatively, from the wall. It is perfectly true that I might never have seen it had I not been given a tour of the school, and it is equally true that discretion might perhaps suggest the pretense that I had not seen it. But—I saw it, and if there is one rule I have learned from the young, it is that pretense is to be avoided at all costs. We might even say there is some connection with the
Antigone
there, but let that pass. The verse was a challenge to which I intend to respond. I suggest that each of you write a poem derived from the
Antigone
, perhaps from some minor point in it. You will be able to sharpen your versifying techniques, and I will feel better.
    “Now, I’ll pass around a reading list of works which seem to me to come to grips in an interesting way withsome of the problems of the
Antigone
. As we go along, you may discover other works equally or more interesting, and we will add them. I’d like to suggest as a procedure that, since there are seven of us and fourteen weeks, we each take charge of assigning the reading and directing the discussion in two seminar meetings. I’ll start next week, you six will follow in succeeding meetings, and then we’ll go round again. Any comments, suggestions, or spontaneous versifying?”
    “I can’t write poetry,” Alice Kirkland said. “I never could. There are seminars in verse writing, but I didn’t choose to take them.”
    “Well,” Kate said, “I’m sure it’s not too late to choose your way out of this one. Just go in and see Miss Tyringham or her assistant. If you stay, write a poem for next time. It needn’t be a good poem, you know; it can be silly stuff or, which is always good practice, an Italian sonnet, a villanelle, or a sestina. If you have a strict form to stay within, you at least have fun even if you don’t come up with one of the world’s great lyrics.”
    Alice Kirkland opened her mouth to argue and then, as five pairs of eyes bore into hers, ceased. It was clear that Alice would go on playing the devil’s advocate only so long as the others were behind her—something which it was well worth six bad verses to have discovered.
    “I’ve thought of a few possible topics for discussion. We don’t have to do them, but they’re fairly obvious and likely to come up in one form or another anyway. Perhaps they’ll