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“I’ve been really struck by the various ways that the author locates both Grendel and his mother outside the world of men through their descriptions.” Allison flipped through the pages of her book, searching for a solid passage. “Of course, the most obvious example is the fact that Beowulf and the Geats have to leave Hrothgar’s hall to find Grendel’s mother. She’s literallyoutside. To me, this clearly shows how invested the text is in establishing normative definitions of masculinity.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Allison noticed students take up pens and start writing. Others had flipped open their laptops and were typing. Her heart leaped. No one had ever taken notes on what she was saying before (not even in her recitations). Pride beat through her veins, hot like a sunbeam.
That heat fizzled a second later when Colin cleared his throat andthrust his own hand into the air. His book was splayed open and pressed to his chest like he was trying to contain himself, even as he leaned forward over their table to make sure Wendy could see him.
“Yes, Colin?” There was a hint of amusement in their professor’s voice. Most likely because he was two seconds from gnawing on the edge of his book like an overenthusiastic puppy (Allison had enough bite marks on her class texts from Monty to know this was a thing).
“Allison’s right, but I do think it’s more important to consider the differences between Grendel and his mother and how they’re treated by the text, rather than what they show us collectively.”
Allison wanted to bash him in the face with the heaviest object she could find, which would probably be his own ego. But if she showed her irritation, he’d know he’d gotten under her skin by contradicting her. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. “You do, huh?” She offered him a razor-sharp grin.
He echoed her smile as he relaxed against his chair. “I noticed that while Grendel tends to be described in terms that can be attributed to humans, Grendel’s mother is often called a thing? A creature? It reminded me of what you were saying yesterday about mothers’ bodies in these literary works being wrong or unnatural.”
Hearing him build off her ideas set Allison’s heart racing. Did he not realize that he was giving her further credit? She straightened her shoulders and snuck a glance at the room. Everyone was watching them. And not in frustration or boredom. Students were still taking notes, and some even mirrored Colin, leaning into their desks. They’d all walk out of here withherideas in their heads.
This was what she wanted from her recitations. If only she didn’t need Colin to get her here. She didn’t want to need Colin for anything.
She cleared her throat. It was still her they were listening to. She needed to remember that. “The discourse around mothers’ bodies is important, but I don’t think it’s as relevant to this poem, since the author doesn’t seem to care much about women.”
He held up a hand. “If I could play devil’s advocate—”
One of those words was accurate, and it wasn’tadvocate. “When don’t you?” Allison challenged.
His face lit up as if she’d told him how good he looked. “What if the poem cares too much about women? What if the author feels the need to vilify Grendel’s mother more because a woman with power is too troubling?”
Bastard.It was a good point.
Wendy stepped out from behind her desk and gathered everyone’s attention before Allison could find a way to undercut his reading.
“And that,” their professor said with a smile, “is what we call a discussion. This is the kind of work I want to see you doing”—she raised her arms to indicate the whole class—“in your recitations, and here, when we have the chance.”
Allison shifted her focus to her notebook, jotting down a bunch of ideas she’d had as she and Colin argued. Heat flooded her skin, and her heart thrummed like she’d completed a hard run. Part of her wished they could have pushed the discussion further. Even if it was Colin at the other end, challenging her ideas, it had been… well… exciting… to dig into literature she cared about this much. Allison took part in plenty of conversations in Post-Colonial Lit, and Victorian Families, and Literary Theory, but it wasn’t the same because the books in those courses didn’t burrow into her psyche the way the ones in her own field did. Did she have ideas about those books? Sure. But they left her as soon as she didn’t need them anymore.
That wasn’t true of medieval lit. Grendel and Grendel’s mother and all those lines in the text she’d referenced had made her yell out loud while she was reading, and they’d stick with her long after the class had moved on to Chaucer and Gower and Shakespeare.
Wendy dismissed everyone, inviting the usual ruckus as students packed up. Allison followed suit, standing to put her bag on the table.
Colin watched her with those keen hazel eyes. “That was awesome.”
Suddenly, Allison’s bag was in need of extreme organization. Move the folders this way, the notebook that way. Try the pens in another pocket. Anything to ignore the twinge his gaze summoned to her insides. “Yes. You did an excellent job building off thoughts I’d already had. Bravo.”
“What?” She glanced up in time to see his jaw drop open. She hoped a fly would buzz in. Maybe hammer him in the throat or box with his uvula. “Did you not see what we just did?” He waved a hand at the empty seats behind them. “They were enthralled.Wedid that together by exploring some stuff you’d overlooked.”
Allison’s notebook hit the table with a loud slap. “First of all”—taking a move from Ethan Windbag, she held up a finger, counting along with her points—“I did not overlook anything. You didn’t give me a chance to finish my thought before you butt in.”
“Yeah but—”
She glowered at him, and his mouth snapped closed, almost as if she’d done it herself.
“Secondly”—two fingers in the air this time—“wedidn’t do anything. You tried to show me up and you failed.” Sure, feeling like a real teacher for a minute had been great, but this teamwork stuff was absurd. He hadn’t done any of this for her. He never did anything for her. The Rising Star debacle proved that. “We both know that that truce of ours died the second Wendy said she could only take one of us on as her advisee, so let’s not pretend there’s anything else going on here.”
Colin sighed loud enough to quiet her. “Can I talk now?”
She folded her arms. “Maybe.”
Behind Allison, a throat cleared. “Everything okay over here?” Wendy asked carefully.
Allison turned, her expression more rictus than smile. “Absolutely.” She tossed a look at Colin. “Just finishing up our discussion from class. We had a few things we… um… needed to clarify.”
