top of page
Search

Excerpted Inspirations #200

  • Writer: Linda Odhner, with photos by Liz Kufs
    Linda Odhner, with photos by Liz Kufs
  • 4 hours ago
  • 0 min read
[Fourteen-year-old Stephen Gordon, the daughter and only child of Philip and Anna Gordon of Morton estate, gets a new governess, Miss Puddleton.] An insignificant creature this Puddle, yet at moments unmistakably self-assertive. Always willing to help in domestic affairs, such as balancing Anna’s chaotic account books, or making out library lists for Jackson’s, she was nevertheless very guardful of her rights, very quick to assert and maintain her position. Puddle knew what she wanted and saw that she got it, both in and out of the schoolroom. Yet everyone liked her; she took what she gave and she gave what she took, yes, but sometimes she gave just a little bit more – and that little bit more is the whole art of teaching, the whole art of living, in fact, and Miss Puddleton knew it. Thus gradually, oh, very gradually at first, she wore down her pupil’s unconscious resistance. With small, dexterous fingers she caught Stephen’s brain, and she stroked it and modelled it after her own fashion. She talked to that brain and showed it new pictures; she gave it new thoughts, new hopes and ambitions; she made it feel certain and proud of achievement. Nor did she belittle Stephen’s muscles in the process, never once did Puddle make game of the athlete, never once did she show by so much as the twitch of an eyelid that she had her own thoughts about her pupil. She appeared to take Stephen as a matter of course, nothing surprised or even amused her it seemed, and Stephen grew quite at ease with her. “I can always be comfortable with you, Puddle,” Stephen would say in a tone of satisfaction, “you’re like a nice chair; though you are so tiny yet one’s got room to stretch, I don’t know how you do it.” Then Puddle would smile, and that smile would warm Stephen while it mocked her a little, but it also mocked Puddle – they would share that warm smile with its fun and its kindness, so that neither of them could feel hurt or embarrassed. And their friendship took root, growing strong and verdant, and it flourished like a green bay tree in the schoolroom. Radclyffe Hall, The Well of Loneliness (1928), pp. 60-61

 
 
 
  • Black YouTube Icon
  • Black Facebook Icon

The views expressed on this website are the opinions of their authors, and may not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of any other author, agency, or organization, including Deborah's Tree.


©2020 by DEBORAH'S TREE. Proudly created with Wix.com

bottom of page