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Another female student raises her hand. “I don’t think he liked women. It felt like he viewed them in only two categories, either the Madonna or the Whore. With nothing in between.”
“Interesting, Jessica,” Ty says with a nod. “So, you think, in Tolstoy’s eyes, Anna was the whore?”
“Well, yeah,” she agrees. “Anna was the one who committed adultery.”
“Okay,” he says and turns back toward his desk. And before I know it, the underwear, my underwear, are back up in the air again. “So, we know that Anna committed adultery. And let’s just pretend that Anna fancied herself wearing this type of underwear beneath her clothes.”
“I’m down with that imagery!” Landon shouts between cupped hands.
“And there is no one in this class who is surprised by that, dude,” Ty counters. “But if these underwear stand for Anna, the one who found herself in a passionate affair with a man who wasn’t her husband,” he states and pauses to grab the boxer briefs. “And these underwear stand for Anna’s brother Stiva, the one who had an affair with his children’s governess. Why did society only get worked up over these?” He shakes the panties in the air. “Why was she shunned, outcasted, and put through so much pain it ended up being her downfall?”
When I glance behind me, I note that a large majority of the students are riveted by what Ty is saying. He has their full attention. In fucking undergraduate college English.
Even though he’s used my damn panties as a prop in his discussion, I have to admit it’s been effective.
I hate to say it, but I’m impressed. Somehow, he managed to make my stupid panties appear…again. And this time, he even succeeded in making a small part of me admire him for it.
The bastard is clever is hell and, I’m convinced, has some kind of voodoo juju.
When no one in the class speaks up, he turns his attention to me.
“Rachel, do you have anything to add to the discussion?”
Now, he’s testing me. But honestly, I don’t mind. Talking about Tolstoy is one of my comfort zones.
“Sure. I’d love to.”
“By all means, then, come on up,” he answers, setting my panties back down on his desk, taking a seat next to them, and waving a magnanimous arm to indicate the floor is mine.
Up and out of my seat, I walk across the lecture hall, my heels clicking on the hardwood floor with every step, and head to the whiteboard.
Ty watches as I walk by, but I focus on the task at hand, grabbing the black marker to write a few things on the board.
Was Anna intelligent?
Was Anna bound by consequences and societal constructs?
Was Anna in a happy marriage or a loveless marriage?
When it came to her affair, did you feel that she was completely wrong, or did you find yourself having understanding for why she did it?
Did Anna have compassion for others?
Did Anna prioritize her own needs over what society wanted her to do? And, if yes, was that selfish?
I turn back around and find Ty smiling at me. “Interesting choice of questions.”
“For me, these are the questions that help me decide the answer to your question,” I state, and with the marker, I tap the place on the board where his initial question sits. “Sure, I could attempt to dissect Tolstoy’s personal life and his marriage to Sophia, but I think the fairest assessment of his view on women can only come from the words he was willing to give to the masses.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Ty says and turns back to the class.
“If you look at Rachel’s questions, and really try to sort through them, where does it leave you on your view of Tolstoy and his opinion of women?” Ty questions the class, and I head back toward my seat. “I know you guys are going to hate me for this, but I’m officially assigning you another essay. No fewer than five pages, and I want your final answer to my question with sound and logical reasons backing you up and showing me how you came to that conclusion.”
Audible, annoyed sighs are heard in the class, but Ty is undeterred.
“I was going to offer giving you the rest of this class and all of Monday’s class to work on said essay, but if you’re going to be like that…I could just as easily assign it as weekend homework…”
“No! No! We’re all so happy about it!” Landon chimes in, standing up and looking around at his fellow students. “We can’t wait to write it, Prof. Right?”
The entire class nods and offers verbal—albeit, fake—responses of wanting to start on the essay right now.
“I had a feeling you guys would say that.” Ty chuckles. “All right. Well, I’ll let you guys get to work. We’ll finish this discussion on Tuesday, once everyone has come to their final conclusions and turned in their essays.”
