Author's Note: I decided to put my English Lit degree to some use, and this is the result. The analysis presented within is my own, and thus my intellectual property.
Will ran a hand down his face and stifled a sigh as he was once again forced to bear witness to another diva showdown between Mercedes and Rachel. Such dramas were becoming more and more frequent and he had reached the conclusion that it would take only a handful of further rehearsals before they came to blows. He was only surprised that the girls hadn't scored these encounters with a spaghetti western riff.
He had been hopeful that Finn would be able to corral Rachel and calm her down, for if she would listen to anyone, it would be Finn, but those hopes had been dashed almost immediately. Finn's face was filled with fear and discomfort, and it was apparent he had no intention of involving himself. Unfortunately Kurt was running late, and thus not present to tether Mercedes and drag her screeching rant down from the rafters.
Santana, eager for actual bloodshed, was alternately siding with Mercedes and Rachel while getting in subtle digs at both of them. Brittany was playing cat's cradle with a piece of string she had found tied to Artie's wheelchair; Will didn't care to posit what it had been doing there. Quinn was filing her nails and muttering under her breath; something about how unfair it was that Kurt could do such a better job when he didn't even speak Vietnamese.
Tina frowned at that, but was soon distracted by an incoming text. She glanced down at her phone and smiled before turning to Will and giving a thumbs up.
He wanted to weep with relief. Kurt would soon be there and make the girls behave themselves. Yeah, it was totally pathetic and embarrassing to rely on a sophomore boy to enforce compliance, but he wasn't above doing it, especially because Kurt was the one person who intimidated both Mercedes and Rachel.
The door was thrown open and Kurt pranced inside, prattling on about something or other, and a few of the others gathered looked up with interest or joy. Mercedes and Rachel immediately stopped sniping at each other, Finn heaved a sigh of relief, Tina smirked, Santana looked like someone had popped her balloon, and Puck...
Puck had a look on his face which Will found difficult to qualify, because Puck was currently licking his chops and staring at Kurt like the boy was tiramisu.
What. The. Hell.
Will shook his head to clear it and noticed Kurt wink at him.
"That's ridiculous," Kurt said, continuing his conversation. "While I will concede that Wordsworth's subject is indeed a condemnation of the rampant materialism resulting from the Industrial Revolution, the poem is much more interesting for its construction and not it's message."
Matt stomped in behind him, a look of irritation on his face. "I disagree. His co-option of the trope is intriguing, but ultimately not as satisfying as the substance of his argument."
Kurt rolled his eyes. "Said argument would not be nearly as focused were it not for the fact that he adapted the lyrical conventions of the traditional Petrarchan sonnet to convey a nontraditional message."
Matt rolled his neck. "A message that is, in fact, a lamentation of the destruction of nature by man, as well as the Christian God who authorized it. How can you deny how momentous this was, especially given the period in which it was written? Surely you're not arguing that substance is of less import than style."
"What?" Finn murmured.
Mike had a smug look on his face. Not only had Kurt stopped the nuclear holocaust Mercedes and Rachel were about to unleash upon them all, but had also singlehandedly demonstrated that Matt was not mute and was actually quite intelligent.
"Oh, Kurt's good," he whispered, staring at the boy with something akin to adoration.
"Of course I'm not asserting such a ludicrous claim," an appalled Kurt snapped at Matt. "At the same time, you cannot argue that such themes were irregular during the Romantic era; all the notable authors of that time echoed similar sentiments."
Rachel took her seat and proceeded to stare at Kurt and Matt with fascination. Mercedes registered this as a concession to defeat and was pleased. She then kicked back to watch Kurt school yet another pseudo-intellectual who thought he could hold a candle to the brilliance of her boo.
"I'm not debating that," Matt said, shaking his head, "I'm merely pointing out that far too many of the secondary sources argue the literary elements of the poem over the point Wordsworth was trying to make."
Kurt gave a swift nod. "In that case, I agree with you wholeheartedly. However, a third opinion is required." He turned toward the risers. "Brittany, if you would?"
Brittany threw him a dazzling smile and forcefully transferred her cat's cradle to the fingers of a confused Artie before skipping over to join her dolphin.
"I think both of you are correct," she declared with authority. "Wordsworth's careful diction and plain language underscore his exhortation, while his masterful use of poetics underscores the gravity of his feared vision."
Kurt and Matt beamed widely and nodded.
"Huh?" Mercedes asked.
Santana, with a song in her heart and wetness between her legs, crossed her legs, leaned back in her seat, and was content to watch Brittany's genius unfurl before the ignorant plebeians.
"The quatrain of the first octave is clearly an indictment of commerce," Brittany added. "The homoioteleuton of getting and spending echoes the monotony of such a lifestyle, reinforcing the hollowness materialism affords."
Kurt nodded. "An idea furthered by the palpable shift in the rhythm of the first line. The first three feet of the second line can also be read as two dactyls, with the stress falling on the first syllables. Thus do those syllables protract themselves to the point where, by the conclusion of the two spondees, the reader experiences the exhaustion materialism engenders, a subtle manipulation which forces the reader to identify with the exasperation of the persona."
"Absolutely!" Matt said happily. "We, as readers, also fall into the rhythm of the actions, condemning ourselves, in a sense."
Brittany and Kurt gave excited nods, and the three continued chattering gaily.
Puck moaned low in his throat, his cock standing at firm attention as he watched the most recent object of his lustful fantasies expound with abandon on the literary analysis of some piece of bullshit he hadn't bothered to read. He had no idea what the fuck Kurt was talking about, but he also didn't give a rat's ass. Not when Kurt was using really big words and speaking in his insufferable Hermione Granger Voice.
"Humans," Brittany said, "in essence, have become inhumane toward that which makes possible their existence. Wordsworth's use of commoratio reinforces the exigency of the problem, which is supplemented by the asyndeton present in the first six lines."
Santana was experiencing a similar reaction to that of Puck. At that moment, she wanted nothing more than to find an empty classroom, drag the three geeks into it with her, and compel this intellectual intercourse to transform into some very pleasing physical results.
"Wordsworth's deliberate omission of conjunctions emphasizes the disjunction between man and nature," Kurt chirped.
"And alienation from nature leads to man's alienation from himself!" Matt said cheerfully.
Kurt and Brittany nodded.
"Yes!" shrieked an enthusiastic Brittany. "It also contributes to a rhythm that imitates the homoioteleuton earlier referenced."
Kurt was absolutely giddy. "Brittany, Matt and I are coauthoring an analysis of the entire poem for the school's literary magazine, and we would be immensely grateful if you would consider joining us."
Matt nodded frantically.
"Sure!" Brittany tinkled. "Should we start now?"
Will cleared his throat, blushing as he did so.
Brittany was crestfallen. "Oh, yeah. We have to do this first."
Rachel's mouth fell open in indignation, and she was about to launch a blistering apologia of all things Glee-related, only for Finn to place his hand on her arm and slowly shake his head, an unsubtle warning Rachel knew to heed. She well knew that nothing angered Kurt more than interference in his intellectual pursuits; they even took a backseat to his desire for solos.
"Hey, Princess," Puck drawled at Kurt, all but oozing smarmy charm.
Kurt wrinkled his nose. "Noah," he carefully returned, giving Puck his best side-eye.
Matt glared at Puck, took Kurt's hand in his, and led them, and Brittany, over to the closest available seats.
Puck's eyes widened with rage. Had Rutherford just staked a claim? In the words of Aretha: hell to the naw!
Mike stared at Matt and Kurt as a singular answer to myriad questions he had never planned to ask just presented itself. He then turned to stare at Puck, his cold eyes promising death. It quelled Puck's resentment somewhat, but Mike would be sure to be on the lookout for further interference. If his best friend wanted Kurt, Mike Chang planned to ensure that his best friend got Kurt.
Santana drifted over to join Brittany and the boys, laying an arm across Kurt's shoulders. Rather than being startled, Kurt smiled warmly at her and proceeded to involve her in their conversation.
Mercedes glared at that, but then Brittany caught her gaze and volleyed with a look so fierce, Mercedes instantly backed off.
Will was shaking his head dumbly and finally called the meeting to order, only marginally surprised when the others obeyed.