A University Fable

When Chris Gray returned to Exeter University for his second year, he was out of sorts.
 
It had been a bad vacation. The first four weeks should have been a happy release from having to read numerous books for his English course. Instead, they proved to be an emotional rollercoaster as he struggled to maintain his relationship with his long term girlfriend Laura.
 
He could no longer go on, he told himself. His insides felt as if he had been living on a diet of razor blades, and each conversation was as much fun as having his teeth pulled, slowly, and without anaesthetic. She kept on repeating that he "was wrong", and he couldn't do anything about that, could he?
 
After four weeks of numerous texts, anguished phone calls and late night discussions, he finally gave up and told her he could see no future for the relationship. "I know," she replied, "I knew it long ago but I needed to wait for you to see it for yourself."
 
Chris was astonished. Stunned, he walked out of her parent's house into the warm hours of a summer's early morning, wondering at the additional anguish she had put him through for the last few weeks, and hurt at the calm way in which she announced the death of their relationship.
 
He had to look at himself, and work out what he had done wrong, or rather as Laura had so charmingly put it, where he had "been wrong."
 
Later, brooding upon the events during the rest of the summer, he became angry. He had struggled, it seemed to him, throughout the whole year to maintain a relationship which had started while they were still at school. Now it seemed he had fallen victim to the usual syndrome his father had warned him about, namely that no romantic relationship survives separation at university. He had hoped to prove his father wrong, and now the old man was right, yet again!
 
Worse, he felt as though he had wasted his vacation, the first half in trying to keep Laura happy, the second half in trying to recover from the shock. He oscillated between anger and self-pity, the while d berating himself for the conflict.
 
Other people returned to their student halls and to lectures, excitedly chatting about what they had been up to. He sat, gloomily in the first lecture of the semester, as miserable as he had ever been.
 
His year group, all female, kindly asked him how he was, and he knew his bad news would be round the Faculty by the end of the day. But he was too unhappy to care, so he told them some of the story, secretly wondering if they agreed with Laura's unflattering analysis of his character and personality.
 
Their sympathy, while unexpected, did not help much.
 
He had thought that was bad enough. What then proved the final straw was his realisation that in his emotional turmoil he had failed to work during the vacation and an Assignment was due within three weeks about the poet Ezra Pound. He had thought he had six weeks!
 
All he had done so far was trawl the Internet and looked at Wikepedia.
 
Even the title was problematic! "Examine the wisdom of Pound's poetry."
 
All he had previously known was that Pound has been the sponsor and great advocate of T.S. Elliot, a poet whom Chris had laboured over at "A" levels, and whom he did not greatly admire. In fact he didn't much like writing about poetry at all, infinitely preferring plays and novels.
 
Now he was back, and he was going to actually have to read some of the wretched Pound's work, and could only compare it with Elliott's work. And here was the problem, because he knew that his tutor knew he had studied Elliott, and expected him to have read other 20th Century poets for contrast and comparison. Further, in accordance with the usual rule, he was not allowed to refer to events of Pound's life or allow his assessment of the text to be influenced by any of those factors. Just as well really, since in his current mood, he hated Ezra Pound's work!
 
He was so desperate that he decided that he would go back to a Christian Union meeting to see if there was anything happening there.
 
There wasn't. The first meeting was filled with the same old faces from the previous year, with the same old bad jokes, the same old clothes, and indeed the same tired format.
 
However his ears pricked up when some Freshers were introduced, particularly as one caught his eye.
 
Then he sunk into a further gloom as he soundly berated himself for thinking of such things. Clearly, as Laura had told him, he was not fit for a relationship, as he was "selfish, self-absorbed, and immature." He felt his shoulders bowing under the weight of her disapproval and judgement.
 
It was while he was slumped there in a fit of the dismals, that someone plopped into the seat next to him and rousing he turned round to gaze into earnest green eyes smiling into his with a hand almost poking him in the ribs, saying, brightly, "Hi, I'm Penny." She was bright, happy, full of life, and he felt himself responding to her immediately. It was as if the sun had broken through the clouds, the mists had parted, and he straightened up, basking in her attention.
 
For her part, Penny saw a dark six footer of lean frame, chewing abstractedly at his lip until she had broken his concentration, who seemed to be miles away, and his very disinterest in his surroundings piqued her interest.
 
After the eyes, he noted a long-haired brunette with a neat figure and a preference for wearing shades of green.
 
They talked.
 
He was open and interested. Her eyes sparkled.
 
They talked again the following morning over coffee. They discussed God, philosophy, and art.
 
It went on from there.
 
They had much in common, from church background and old-fashioned parents to a shared wicked sense of humour, though they argued strenuously about the fact that he liked old style music, particularly Led Zeppelin, Cream and Yes, while she hardly listened to music at all, finally confessing to liking Mcfly, Snow Patrol and Coldplay.
 
She was more into sport than he was, but he was able to forgive her for being an avid Arsenal fan, while she tolerated his indifferent guitar playing
 
He worried that she had insufficient experience as a fresher, and yet was glad to take advantage of that by sweeping her off her feet. She didn't consider this at all important: Chris made her laugh and they were happy together. They shared so many things in common, and it hadn't taken her long to discover that although deeply sensitive, he was not weak. Just as well, she thought to herself, knowing that she would never have been happy with a milksop.
 
A full blown romance grew. There were the usual rows, the usual kisses and cuddles, and the usual temptations. Penny joined clubs of interest to her, and built some close friendships with some of the girls in her halls of residence, and fewer on her own course. She was studying history. For his part, Chris found himself revitalised.
 
He told Penny everything about his relationship with Laura and her assessment and her support were hugely healing. In the end he even found himself defending Laura to her, which led to a great row!
 
By the end of the semester, their romance was sealed and, being the loyal types of people they were, friends commented that it looked as if it was the real thing.
 
Chris was sure it was. And she certainly hoped so.
 
So it was that at the end therefore of the first semester, the following had happened. Chris Gray had met Penelope Richards, known both as Pen and Penny, and they were deeply in love and happy. On the other hand, he completely fouled up his first assignment and got in terrible trouble with his Tutor for handing in a rotten piece of work about Ezra Pound.
 
All of which goes, I suppose, to show that Chris's experience proved the old proverb, "Penny wise, but Pound foolish!"