Pi·er·rot – noun


What in hell is a pierrot? I wondered as I twirled my pencil. Damn Madame Dubois, for giving us such a stupid assignment. The Spanish class had normal homework, conjugating irregular verbs. The Mandarin class had a reading packet. And the French class had a flippin' research essay.

It wasn't like we were planning to live in France, after all. Most of us were only taking the class as a buffer cushion on our college applications anyway. Did she really think any of us were really interested in culture?

I glanced across the classroom and saw the back of a head. Soft, dark, wavy hair stared back at me. I told myself, don't stare, don't stare, don't stare, don't stare, but I couldn't help but look longingly.

Shit. I was staring. I turned my attention back to the slip of paper handed out.

You can use the Internet for this project.

Like I was actually going to go to the library for a research project as idiotic as this.

I sighed. I'd been hoping to be able to finish this during class. Now I had to fit it in at home. I told Mrs. Richter that I needed the free period, but the uptight secretary hadn't believed me.

"I'm sure an organized young lady like you can fit homework into your busy schedule," she'd twittered, replying to emails (I could see the computer screen reflect onto her wire-rimmed glasses.) like I wasn't important.

"I'm sure I could, Mrs. Richter," I'd replied politely. "If I wasn't on the debate and JV soccer team."

She's frowned slightly. Perhaps her husband had emailed her saying he'd be late for dinner. "Well, I'm sure you could work around all that." For the first time in the three minutes we'd been talking, she looked up and met my eyes. "Well, the first bell is about to ring. We wouldn't want a detention interfering with your homework time, now would we?" She gave me a pallid smile, and returned her attention to her inbox.

Well. A chapter to read in Calculus, an analytical essay in English, two lab reports in Science, and a test tomorrow in History. And now this. A goddamn essay on pierrots. Pierrotes? Pierrot?

What in hell was a pierrot?


I swiveled in my computer chair, turning around and around. But it was no use. Everytime the chair made another round, the white slip on my desk popped out.

le pierrot

God.

Well, I guess the first thing to do is the find out what it means.

Sighing, I pulled up my browser and typed in the link to a translation site.

pierrot - sparrow

A bird? I was researching a frickin' bird for my French cultural essay?

All of a sudden, I knew that I wasn't going to be Wikipedia'ing this essay. No way did I want to read articles about sparrows. No online encyclopedia, or government website was going to make sparrows any more interesting than they already were. I was going to make this as entertaining as possible for me to research, screwing credibility along the way.

Well, a little voice inside my head said, how are you going to do that? How are you going to find enough information about sparrows to write an essay on how they relate to the French culture without using credible sites? Do you really think somewhere like…my voice spluttered for a good example to use, YouTube would have anything good for you on sparrows?

It was worth a try.

I pulled up my browser again and typed in the address.

pierrot

I typed it into the search bar, and scanned the drop-down list of suggestions the website provided me.

pierrot

pierrot le fou

pierrot lunaire

pierrot lunaire schoenberg

pierrot the clown

pierrot the clown placebo

pierrot senka

pierrot jyj

pierrot le fou trailier

pierrot miku

Nothing looked promising. I had heard or seen almost everything on the list, thanks to Madame Dubois. Well, except for a couple. I clicked on pierrot senka. The first video that popped up had a strange title.

Pierrot - Senka [English Sub]

It looked like the title of a song. However, the artist, Senka, had a male sign next to his name. (I assumed Senka was a "he") It also said "English Sub", which implied that the song was not in English. The thumbnail of the video was a picture of a boy, his face covered with…I couldn't quite figure out what was on his face. There was a frame around the whole picture, like it was a picture. The entire thumbnail was not a picture of a real boy. It was a shot of an animation.

Curious, I clicked on the link.


You must bring in an example of how your assignment relates to the French culture.


Please see me.

No score. No grade. Nothing. Just three words scrawled in red across the top of my research essay.

Shaking, I made my way to Madame Dubois' desk after class. When she looked up at me questioningly, I held up my essay.

"You wanted to see me?" I asked.

"Ah, oui, oui!" she said, smiling widely.

Wait, wait. Why was she smiling? Unless it was so bad, she…was smiling? Why was she smiling?

"Um…was it really bad?" I blurted out.

Her smile turned upside down.

"Excusez moi?" she asked.

Her face was now bemused. Ha. I knew she couldn't have been happy. She wouldn't be that mean.

"My essay," I waved it in front of her. "You didn't give it a grade. Was it really that bad?" I prided myself on keeping my voice level. I had secretly been proud of it when I'd handed it in. I couldn't understand why it didn't receive a grade.

Her face cleared. She told me why I hadn't received a grade.


I emerged from the French classroom shaking. It was not a bad kind of shaking, though. That was made obvious by the ridiculously huge grin on my face.

"It was brilliant," Madame Dubois had switched to English once my face had made it clear I hadn't understood a single word of her French babble. "It made me so happy to finally have a student put some effort into their essay, and not because they had to, but because they wanted to. After all, I know that you wouldn't have written such a wonderful essay about le pierrot if you hadn't found that wonderful video."

"Well," I said, startled. "Yeah. I mean, yes." What was she saying? She'd liked my essay?

"And what a wonderful video it was," she exclaimed, continuing on with her babble. "So touching, and such a wonderful song."

"Yea—es. Yes." I could only agree with her. I was a rock in shock.

"Although I did find it a bit odd that the song was sung in Japanese. I don't suppose you found a French version?"

I shook my head mutely.

"I expected as much," she said sadly. "Well, nevertheless, it was wonderful. Where did you come across it in your research?"

Oh, god. This was not happening. "I, er…found it. I wanted to be absolutely thorough in my research and decided to search it on YouTube just in case I found something helpful." Helpful, indeed.

"Such a dedicated student!" Madame Dubois had exclaimed happily. "Well, off you go. I don't want to make you late for your next class."

"Oh…sure." I still wasn't exactly sure what had happened. I walked to the door before I realized. "Madame Dubois?"

"Oui?"

"Why didn't you just put a grade on my paper?"

She looked confused again. "Why, because I wanted to talk to you about it!"

I nodded. "That makes sense."

"Au revoir!"

"Au revoir, Madame."


You may write your essay in English.


The following is an excerpt from the essay, Le Pierrot.

…However, no matter its origins, the most important aspect about the Pierrot is that it represents a fool in love. The fool will do anything for anyone, but for the girl he is in love with, he will do the impossible. And that is the feature all French pantomimes strive to capture. That feeling of loving someone so much, you would do anything…


SONG: Pierrot (KEI)

ORIGINAL ARTIST: Senka