Sophomores - Softcover

Desmond, Sean

Softcover

ISBN 10: 0593084853 ISBN 13: 9780593084854

Verlag: Penguin Publishing Group, 2021

Inhaltsangabe

The late 1980s come alive in this moving and keenly observed story of one boy's unforgettable sophomore year, and his parents' surprising journey alongside him.

It's the fall of 1987 and life as normal is ending for the Malone family. With their sterile Dallas community a far cry from the Irish-American Bronx of their youth, Pat and Anne Malone have reached a breaking point. Pat, chief actuary for a struggling American Airlines, has fallen into his drinking, using the burn of alcohol to hide the mental and physical toll of his recent MS diagnosis. Meanwhlie, Anne, his dutiful and devoutly Catholic wife, has been selected as a juror for a highly publicized attempted murder trial. For the first time, Anne's attention is wavering and the questions she's buried her entire life, about God and about men in power, begin to break through.

Together, Pat and Anne try to raise their only son, Daniel, a sophomore at Jesuit College Prep. Bright but unmotivated, Dan is aware of the cracks in his family, but reprieve is found in his Honors English class, where he and his classmates are shocked into actual learning by their enigmatic teacher Mr. Oglesby. For once, Dan is unable to fly under the radar, and must ask himself what he might want to make of his life. With humor and tenderness, Sophomores captures the enduring poignancy of coming-of-age, teenage epiphanies and heartbreak, and family redemption.

Über diesen Titel

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Sean Desmond is the publisher of Twelve, an imprint of Grand Central, and has been in the publishing world for more than twenty-five years. His first novel, Adams Fall, was published in 2000 and was adapted into the film Abandon. Desmond lives in Brooklyn, New York.

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[ September 18, 1987 ]

 

"Odysseus is a man who is never at a loss. The gods strip him like bark, separate him from his men, exile him from his family. Yet he persists-travels to hell and back, always with a plan, without doubt, never baffled. He is ever at the ready despite his many trials."

 

Mr. Oglesby looked over the class of sophomores, steadying himself in a lean against Teddy Boudreaux's desk. The next quiver of questions was a deliberate digression from the lesson plan, and he shot them out rapid fire.

 

"So why does Homer ascribe contradictions to his hero? How can he never be at fault yet decide that taunting a Cyclops is a good idea? Why would someone smart enough to win the Trojan War be so stupid as to anger the gods?"

 

Oglesby returned to the blackboard, raising one of his many teaching sticks-this one named Keisaku-and pointed to the words he had written earlier: The myth of the hero.

 

"Mr. Humphrey, what kind of a hero is Odysseus?"

 

"Mythic?"

 

Oglesby shook his head and stared out the window at the faded green of the courtyard. "Don't regurgitate, Mr. Humphrey. Mr. Atherton?"

 

"Uh . . . he's a classic hero."

 

"Next you'll tell me he's Greek."

 

A discomforting five seconds passed as Oglesby stalked the center aisle of the classroom, punching Keisaku at the carpet like he was on a mountain trail.

 

"Gentlemen, stop guessing and start thinking. Can someone actually prove to me that they've read this book and not Dr. Cliff's summary of the plot?"

 

Oglesby exhaled through his nose, his disappointment as subtle as a vaudeville act. He lowered his head and considered what remedial assignment he would have to resort to. A hand went up from the front row.

 

"Yes, Mr. Gilchrist."

 

"He's a hero because his greatness can contain contradictions."

 

"Yes, and . . . ?"

 

"And he is searching for something he probably won't find."

 

"What do you mean?"

 

"The hero has a quest."

 

"Thank you." A wave of relief passed across the teacher's face, and he started a peripatetic shuffle up and down the center aisle. "Gentlemen, Mr. Gilchrist is correct. The hero is defined by his journey. A hero isn't perfect. Every man has flaws that he must confront and overcome. That is the internal quest of the hero. And the eternal quest of literature."

 

Daniel Malone frowned. He knew that answer and should have raised his hand.

 

 

 

 

This was second period, sophomore honors English, taught by Mr. David Oglesby at the Jesuit College Preparatory School of Dallas. The course and its teacher were legendary for their rigor and Socratic curveballs. Each morning, Oglesby walked into class purposefully, carrying his "persuasion stick"-today it was the black-and-maroon Keisaku; he had many others-and an olive-drab backpack slung over one shoulder. The pack was government issue and a reminder to the sophomores that their teacher had once been an army medic on a search-and-destroy team in a place we used to call Indochina. For this version of boot camp, Oglesby dressed sharply-Hickey Freeman sports coats, button-down oxfords, cuffed Brooks Brothers slacks, cordovan penny loafers, and a sequence of solid knit ties that were in fashion the fall of 1987.

 

For the first two weeks, Mr. Oglesby was quick to prove command and control. He had two default modes: stern and strict. Each day, twenty new vocabulary words, and each night, a journal-writing assignment-at least one hundred words on weird topics that included: epic simile, Venetian blinds, Pyrrhic victory, and something called the Paraclete. Oglesby's class came with a minor catechism of standard-issue rules-"Organization is the key to high school," "Think before you speak"-and absurd ones-"Never give a gun to a duck." ("After all," he'd say, "the duck might be a quack shot.")

 

Each class was at once a performance and an inquisition aimed at startling sophomores into effort. Dan Malone certainly was intimidated. Oglesby had a booming teaching voice, dactylic in cadence. He had wide, searching gray-blue eyes that were quick to appraise whether the light was on or not with a student. He also had the reflexes of a black belt and was quantum quick to grab a wisecracking ephebe by his tie knot (Oglesby synonyms: cravat, foulard) or bring his teaching stick down with an emphatic near miss of a sophomore skull.

 

Dan had strong marks from freshman English and had moved up to the honors class with his crew-namely, Rick Dowlearn, Rob McGhee, and Steve "Sticky" O'Donnell. None of the boys knew what to make of Oglesby's strange temperament. Rick admittedly did the best Texas Brahmin impression ("Misterh DAWH-learn, de-FINE mimesis"), along with a mea culpa beating of the breast with a copy of Strunk and White, which ended in a back-of-the-hand-to-the-temple half swoon. But all the sophomores were on guard for when Oglesby's class turned into a close-reading cross between Jeopardy! and Press Your Luck.

 

 

 

 

"Gentlemen, I'm returning your journals," Mr. Oglesby said, his back to the class. He whirled around and peered at them one by one. "Let me say this: Your parents are not paying tuition for you to scribble such narcissistic drivel. Writing begins with thinking. Thinking begins with asking questions. Rule number four: your journal is your life-force."

 

Oglesby dropped Dan's journal onto his desk in the back row without pause or comment and continued on to Cameron Coleman, then Jay Blaylock. Already this early into the school year, the last row was a nose-picking, catnapping affair, and Dan felt a bit of exile on these back benches. Dan was a solid, if uninspired, student; mostly A's, but that came at the hectoring of his mother, herself a teacher baptized and confirmed in the pre-Vatican II rote academy. Dan had always taken the path of least resistance with reading and writing, while math, like most boys, he gleaned from the sports page. He wasn't exactly lazy, but in class, he didn't try to show off or even engage much. Part of this was fear of being teased or labeled a nerd, but he was cleverly unefforted and unmotivated, and his talents had lain under the bushel. Until he came face-to-face with Oglesby, who seemed to have the drop on this routine from day one. Dan opened his journal and leafed through his entries. Check, check, check. And one comment:

 

Fine but not fine.

 

"My compliments to Mr. O'Donnell," Oglesby said. Sticky tucked the long bangs of his dark brown hair behind his ear and sat up nervously. "Who actually did some inquiry on Venetian blinds and postulated a connection to Botticelli."

 

There was a pause while the sophomores shot glances at each other and wondered why they hadn't thought of opening a World Book encyclopedia and doing a lick of research.

 

"Gentlemen, writing is a muscle. The more you use it, the stronger it gets. One hundred words-Mr. Deangelis, are you listening?-does not mean padding out an assignment with adjectives and articles. I want ideas. Brains running, not jogging."

 

Finished with the pass-back, Oglesby returned to the front of the classroom, closed his eyes in fake meditation, and waved Keisaku back and forth across the room like a blind samurai. "Rule number eight: writing is thinking. And reading is paying attention. Our rule number seven. Mr. Lamberty, what is the reason I assigned The Odyssey?"

 

Troy Lamberty hesitated, the simple answers fluttering into an...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: Penguin Publishing Group
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2021
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 0593084853
• ISBN 13: 9780593084854
• Einband: Taschenbuch
• Anzahl der Seiten: 400
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: Nicht verfügbar
• Verantwortliche Person: Nicht verfügbar