Okay, so this is my attempt at AU Lante. This is for those of us who have, at one point in our lives, had a crush on a professor AND for all of us in love with Dante and Lulu. I hope it doesn't suck.
"What about the lack of names? Is there significance behind Marie de France choosing to not name her lead female characters?" Dr. Falconeri posed the question to the small class, hoping to incite some sort of discussion among his students who had so far shown only superficial interest in this week's reading.
"Well, women weren't important enough to mention. I mean, this is the Middle Ages, right?" a dark-haired girl sitting in the front row eagerly answered.
"Okay, go with that and then take into account that the writer is female. Do you think she believes her sex to be unimportant?" the professor countered.
"Umm.." The girl looked at a loss, like he knew she would. Seriously, is there no one in this class who gets it?
It seemed the boys in the class were all avoiding his gaze, hoping to get out of this particular discussion, fearing whatever they said might be viewed as sexist. If he weren't so frustrated with the lack of enthusiasm among his students, he might have thought this the smart way to go.
Just when Dr. Falconeri was about to give up and call it a day, a quiet voice from the back of the class spoke up, "They're more identifiable without names."
"Ha!" the first girl responded, thinking her classmate had obviously said something ridiculous. The professor reflexively shot her a warning look before addressing the voice in the back of the class.
"Explain." He said it encouragingly, hoping to quell any self-consciousness she might be feeling after her classmate's guffaw.
It seemed like everyone in the class had turned to stare at her and Lulu felt her stomach turn. Damn. This is what she had been hoping to avoid by sitting so far in the back. She cleared her throat uneasily. "I mean, by not giving them names, it's like saying this could be you or your mother, sister, friend. It could be any of us." The inflection in her last statement made it sound more like a question and her eyes immediately fell to the open notebook on her desk. If she had not done this, she would have seen the teacher's approving nod and widening eyes.
"Fantastic." He turned back toward his laptop and moved his slideshow forward. As the next slide projected onto the larger screen for the class, Dr. Falconeri heard the rapid scraping of pens on paper.
Lulu was relieved he had turned his back just as her face heated ten degrees at the accolade. What is my problem? She wasn't used to getting so easily embarrassed. If anything, most people thought of her as unaffected, frigid even. It was her upbringing and tumultuous romantic history that made her so. Usually she was fine with this, but for some reason now found herself hoping to be seen in a warmer light.
The students began that end of class shuffle, closing books and zipping bags. "Don't forget, we're starting Margery Kempe next week so be sure to read. Also, I need your research proposals on my desk by this Thursday. My office number is in the syllabus, but I suggest you don't use it to tell me you need an extension."
With that, they were out the door and Dr. Falconeri began his own end of class shuffle at the podium. As he gathered loose papers to shove into his bag, he examined the sign in sheet he sent around the room at the beginning of class. Closing his eyes in concentration, he pictured the small class of 15 and counted from one end of the room to the other, attempting to determine where she would be on the list. He felt bad for not learning their names, especially with such a small group, but his busy schedule took up all the remaining room in his memory.
He opened his eyes again and counted twelve people down the list. Wait. That can't be right. Eduardo Silva stared back at him from the page. Obviously the list had gone through the room in the opposite direction. This time he counted three down and found the name Lulu Spencer. Good to know.