Lesson 2 Love

The following passage, set in the early 1970s, is from a 1992 novel. The principal characters, Virginia and Clayton, are two cellists in a college orchestra.

She’d met lots of crazy musicians, but no one like Clayton. He was as obsessed as the others, but he had a quirky sense of humor, a slow ironic counterpoint[1] to his own beliefs. And he didn’t look quite like anyone else. He wore his hair parted dangerously near the middle and combed it in little ripples like Cab Calloway1, though sometimes he let it fly up a bit at the ends in deference[2] to the campus pressure for Afros. His caramel-colored skin darkened to toffee under fluorescent light but sometimes took on a golden sheen, especially in the vertical shafts of sunlight that poured into his favorite practice room where she’d often peek in on him—an uncanny complexion, as if the shades swirled just under the surface.

Virginia’s friends gave her advice on how to get him. “You two can play hot duets together,” they giggled.

As it turned out, she didn’t have to plan a thing. She was reading one afternoon outside the Fine Arts Building when the day suddenly turned cold. If she went back to the dorm for a sweater, she’d be late for orchestra rehearsal[3]. So she stuck it out until a few minutes before rehearsal at four. By that time, her fingers were so stiff she had to run them under hot water to loosen them up. Then she hurried to the cello room,where all the instruments were lined up like novitiates2; she felt a strange reverence every time she stepped across the threshold into its cool serenity[4]. There they stood,obedient yet voluptuous in their molded cases. In the dim light their plump forms looked sadly human, as if they were waiting for something better to come along but knew it wouldn’t.

Virginia grabbed her cello and was halfway down the hall when she realized she’d forgotten to leave her books behind. She decided against turning back and continued to the basement, where the five-till-four pandemonium[5] was breaking loose. Clayton was stuffing his books into his locker.

“Hey, Clayton, how’s it going?”

As if it were routine, he took her books and wedged them in next to his. They started toward the orchestra hall. Virginia cast a surreptitious glance upward; five minutes to four or not, Clayton was not rushing. His long, gangling frame seemed to be held together by molasses; he moved deliberately, negotiating the crush while humming a tricky passage from Schumann3, sailing above the mob.

After rehearsal she reminded him that her books were in his locker.

“I think I’ll go practice,” he said. “Would you like to listen?”

“I’ll miss dinner,” she replied, and was about to curse herself for her honesty when he said, “I have cheese and 50 soup back at the fraternity house, if you don’t mind the walk.”

The walk was twenty minutes of agonizing bliss, with the wind off the lake whipping her blue, and Clayton too involved with analyzing the orchestra’s horn section to notice. When they reached the house, a brick building with a crumbling porch and weeds cracking the front path, she was nearly frozen through. He heated up a can of soup, and plunked the cheese down in the center of the dinette table.

“It’s not much,” he apologized, but she was thinking a loaf of bread, a jug of wine4, and felt sated[6] before lifting the first spoonful. The house was rented to Alpha Phi Alpha one of three black fraternities on campus. It had a musty tennis-shoes-andripe-laundry smell. Books and jackets were strewn everywhere, dishes piled in the sink.

“When did you begin playing?” she asked.

“I began late, I’m afraid,” Clayton replied. “Ninth grade. But I felt at home immediately. With the music, I mean. The instrument took a little longer. Everyone said I was too tall to be a cellist.” He grimaced.

Virginia watched him as he talked. He was the same golden brown as the instrument, and his mustache followed the lines of the cello’s scroll.

“So what did you do?” she asked.

“Whenever my height came up, I would say, ‘Remember the bumblebee.’ ”

“What do bumblebees have to do with cellos?”

“The bumblebee, aerodynamically speaking, is too large for flight. But the bee has never heard of aerodynamics, so it flies in spite of the laws of gravity. I merely wrapped my legs and arms around the cello and kept playing.”

Music was the only landscape in which he seemed at ease. In that raunchy kitchen, elbows propped on either side of the cooling soup, he was fidgety, even a little awkward. But when he sat up behind his instrument, he had the irresistible beauty of someone who had found his place.

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1 American Jazz musician and bandleader (1907-1994).

2 Persons who have entered a religious order but have not yet taken final vows.

3 German composer (1810-1856).

4 A reference to Edward Fitzgerald’s “A jug of wine, a loaf of bread, and thou,” a line from The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam.

(808 words)

Exercises

Ⅰ . How well did you read?

1. [Grasp the main idea] The passage is___________ .

A. a social idea on school classical music band B. a story of how a person can greatly inspire others C. an introduction to a character from another’s view D. a good memory of nice college life in orchestras

2. [Evaluate the information] The description in Paragraph 1 indicates that Clayton is___________ .

A. complicated B. passionate C. warmhearted D. energetic

3. [Evaluate the information] In Paragraph 3, the description of the cello room suggests that the atmosphere in the room is ___________.

A. emptiness B. holiness C. achievement D. creativity

4. [Evaluate the information] In Paragraph 11, Virginia’s reaction to the meal suggests that she___________ .

A. was amused at Clayton’s welcoming attitude

B. felt it a pity to make Clayton embarrassed

C. was satisfied enough even without the food

D. suddenly noticed the kitchen was in chaos

5. [Evaluate the information] When Clayton mentioned the bumblebee, in Paragraph 16, he expressed his___________ .

A. pride B. intelligence C. nature D. determination

II. Read for words.

1. …where she’d often peek in on him—an uncanny complexion, …(Line 8,Paragraph 1)

A. color B. expression C. personality D. feeling

2. Virginia’s friends gave her advice on how to get him. “You two can play hot duets together,” they giggled. (Line 11, Paragraph 2)

A. suggested B. laughed C. insisted D. guessed

3. Then she hurried to the cello room, where all the instruments were lined up like novitiates; she felt a strange reverence every time she stepped across the threshold into its cool serenity. (Line 6, Paragraph 3)

A. fright B. amusement C. excitement D. respect

4. The walk was twenty minutes of agonizing bliss, with the wind off the lake whipping her blue, and Clayton too involved with analyzing the orchestra’s horn section to notice. (Line 1, Paragraph 10)

A. happy B. puzzling C. painful D. dutiful

5. I merely wrapped my legs and arms around the cello and kept playing.(Line 2, Paragraph 18)

A. dedicatedly B. simply C. happily D. excitedly

III. Write for practice.

Write a brief introduction of Clayton. The guiding questions are as follows. Word limit: above 60.

1. Who was Clayton?

2. What did he look like?

3. What did he usually do?

4. Why did he play cello?

5. Did he have talent on cello?

6. What made him a musician?

LANGUAGE BOX