...I knew that would get your attention. ;o) Here's one of those substantive posts I talk about but never seem to write.
I've known it for a while. I have a problem. If there were a form of rehab for people like me, I'd be there in an instant. It's a very serious problem.
"What is this problem?" you ask. It's really very simple. I have a VERY unfortunate tendancy to fall in love with fictional characters. It happens to some extent with almost every "romantic" book I read. I have daydreams about the heros and spend weeks looking for guys who look how I think each hero should look, just so I can have a clearer mental picture of them. I mix up facial features, hair, and voices, until I have THE PERFECT picture in my head. By that time, I'm probably finished with yet another book and start the process over again. I almost always spend a day or so detesting the heroine who gets the man, and I just know I could have done things way better than she did. Naturally, if I were in her position there wouldn't have been any misunderstandings or quarrels, and the whole thing would have gone much more smoothly. (This is the part where people who know me well are supposed to roll their eyes.)
There are some books and characters that are far worse than others, though the details differ. Every time I read Pride and Prejudice I want to BE Elizabeth. I've never hated her for anything. And what girl wouldn't want to end up with *sigh* Mr. Darcy??
The first time I read Anya Seton's Katharine I spent a few months "in love" with John of Gaunt. That is highly inconvenient, seeing as he's been dead 600+ years. I didn't like him as much the last time I read that book, so I think I'm pretty well over that.
By far the worst, as I'm sure my friends can attest to, is reading the Anne books. Just reading the books over (and over) again is silly of me, because I know what will happen. Every time I read them, I turn silly, overly romantic, and more than slightly dissatisfied with life in modern Midwestern America. (And I end up writing posts like this.) The biggest problem is that I have "been in love with" the hero, Gilbert Blythe since I was 11. To this day, if you were to ask me to describe my dream man, he would match up almost exactly with Gilbert.
This is where detesting the heroine comes in. I always end up wanting to throttle Anne, not just because she's silly and messes things up, but out of jealousy. How ridiculous is that? I dislike her because if it were all real and I was part of the story, she'd STILL be silly and mess everything up and she'd STILL get her man.
All of this may explain why I'm 19 years old and have never had a boyfriend, or anyone even close to a boyfriend. I'm hopelessly romantic and I read too many silly books. At the same time, I know full well how silly and unrealistic I'm being. I laugh at and make fun of myself for it. But I can't help it.
7 comments:
Eh, I think every girl does that to at least some extent. Find me one girl who's read the Anne books and DOESN'T want Gilbert. I dare you. ;o)
So, I'm going to go write a lengthy post about this on my blog now because it's more fun than homework and I've been inspired.
Thanks, Bep... ;oP
... I never liked Gilbert.
*flees the impending wrath*
We know you've never liked Gilbert, Lynea. But that's ok. At least that way we don't have to fight over him. (*coughRachaelcough*)
Gilbert was wonderful... but he had nothing on Mr. Knightley.
I've also always been fond of Thomas from Tam Lin.
And Nightcrawler. He's an utter gentleman- though a bit blue.
Mr. Knightley....yeah, he's right up there.
I still haven't been able to find Tam Lin. I don't know if our library doesn't have it, or if I made a mistake when searching, but it didn't show up. I must find it.
(love my italics...)
Bethany,
Good news! No, I didn't save any money on car insurance.
But -- I do know a boy who looks every bit the hero. He has learned from little on up what true heroes are. He's read books from boyhood to now about boys and men who save the day, rescue the distressed damsel, and ride into the sunset of happily-ever after lives.
So, while it may forever frustrate you that you cannot have the imagined men of your novels, you can have a young man as near to those fictitious pictures you've painted in your mind. He is but a short drive to Hillsdale, Michigan. He hasn't been dead for six hundered years. He has tasted death, chewed on it, and spit it out. He may not be Mr. Darcy, but Elizabeth would be jealous if she learned you won this spectacular specimen of a boy. And I'm quite sure, that whatever Gilbert lacks over-against your dream-man, this college freshman can supply.
He's read too many books as well. He's 19, and hasn't had anything close to a real girlfriend either. You'd be perfect together -- I can picture it all in mind.
-Pastor Fickel
P.S. Though is in Michigan, now, he hails from Oregon, a great escape from the Midwest.
Pr. Fickel-
Since I have yet to meet this paragon, I'll withhold judgement. :o)
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