The Tragicomedy of High School Dating

SheStoopsToConquer

Sometimes one never knows where a literature seminar will end up. Yesterday, while teaching Oliver Goldsmith’s She Stoops to Conquer in my 18th Century Couples Comedy class, I found myself sharing a painful adolescent dating experience with my students. They responded with some of their own stories.

Among other things, I discovered why I had been so in love with the play when I read it at 16. It was the story of my dating life. Only my life, unfortunately, lacked its happy ending.

The play, as you may know, is the story of a young member of the gentry (Marlow) who becomes tongue-tied when talking to women of his own class but who has no difficulty engaging with chambermaids and servants. His father hopes that he will marry Kate Hardcastle and Mr. Hardcastle wants the same for his daughter, but Marlow’s shyness seems to be an insurmountable obstacle. Therefore, Kate “stoops to conquer,” passing herself off as a barmaid and winning him that way.

Before the happy ending, however, he undergoes some excruciating experiences. Due to a prank played on him, he mistakes his future father-in-law as an innkeeper and orders him around (an 18th century version of Meet the Parents). Also, Kate teases him mercilessly once he learns her true identity. By the end of the play, a man who has spent his entire life trying to avoid humiliation has been humiliated in every possible way.

The scenes led us all to recall times in our mortifying experiences when engaging with the opposite sex.

In my case it was attending a “sock hop” at Sewanee Military Academy and looking at my feet the entire time that I danced with the girlfriend of my squad leader, who had ordered me to go and have a good time. (She finally took pity on me and allowed me to leave.) My students remembered dances where guys lined up on one wall and girls on the other, with no one daring to pair off in the middle.

In some instances, their experiences were even closer to those of Marlow and Kate. Erika, for instance, talked about how she could joke around with her motorcycle riding buddies but how they would suddenly clam up when she brought along a girlfriend. They even retreated into themselves when she wore a skirt and let down her hair.

Marisa talked about guys who were comfortable only around girls who weren’t particularly attractive. We talked about how bringing romance into the picture instantly made relationships painfully complicated. Furthermore, if they weren’t complicated, it could be a bad sign: Jemarc explained how being relegated to a “friend zone” meant that, while one could now converse as a friend, one was no longer in the running for a date. I learned that “friend zoned” has become a verb.

I remembered a previous class discussion where I once mentioned that dating seems easier now because students often go about in groups—only to be told that the complications return when two members of the group decide to pair up.

In short, She Stoops to Conquer is as timely as it ever was. Like all comedy, it finds a way to laugh at those aspects of our lives that otherwise cause us to bury our heads in our hands.

To give you a chance to relive your own painful relationship moments, here is Marlow’s and Kate’s first conversation, conducted with him looking at his feet the entire time. Hastings is Marlow’s friend (or, as one of my students called him, his wingman), and he is secretly engaged to Kate’s friend Miss Neville. The conversation goes south when he leaves:

MISS HARDCASTLE. (Aside.) Now for meeting my modest gentleman with a demure face, and quite in his own manner. (After a pause, in which he appears very uneasy and disconcerted.) I’m glad of your safe arrival, sir. I’m told you had some accidents by the way.
MARLOW. Only a few, madam. Yes, we had some. Yes, madam, a good many accidents, but should be sorry—madam—or rather glad of any accidents—that are so agreeably concluded. Hem!
HASTINGS. (To him.) You never spoke better in your whole life. Keep it up, and I’ll insure you the victory.
MISS HARDCASTLE. I’m afraid you flatter, sir. You that have seen so much of the finest company, can find little entertainment in an obscure corner of the country.
MARLOW. (Gathering courage.) I have lived, indeed, in the world, madam; but I have kept very little company. I have been but an observer upon life, madam, while others were enjoying it.
MISS NEVILLE. But that, I am told, is the way to enjoy it at last.

HASTINGS. (To him.) Cicero never spoke better. Once more, and you are confirmed in assurance for ever.
MARLOW. (To him.) Hem! Stand by me, then, and when I’m down, throw in a word or two, to set me up again.
MISS HARDCASTLE. An observer, like you, upon life were, I fear, disagreeably employed, since you must have had much more to censure than to approve.
MARLOW. Pardon me, madam. I was always willing to be amused. The folly of most people is rather an object of mirth than uneasiness.
HASTINGS. (To him.) Bravo, bravo. Never spoke so well in your whole life. Well, Miss Hardcastle, I see that you and Mr. Marlow are going to be very good company. I believe our being here will but embarrass the interview.
MARLOW. Not in the least, Mr. Hastings. We like your company of all things. (To him.) Zounds! George, sure you won’t go? how can you leave us?
HASTINGS. Our presence will but spoil conversation, so we’ll retire to the next room. (To him.) You don’t consider, man, that we are to manage a little tete-a-tete of our own. [Exeunt.]
MISS HARDCASTLE. (after a pause). But you have not been wholly an observer, I presume, sir: the ladies, I should hope, have employed some part of your addresses.
MARLOW. (Relapsing into timidity.) Pardon me, madam, I—I—I—as yet have studied—only—to—deserve them.
MISS HARDCASTLE. And that, some say, is the very worst way to obtain them.
MARLOW. Perhaps so, madam. But I love to converse only with the more grave and sensible part of the sex. But I’m afraid I grow tiresome.
MISS HARDCASTLE. Not at all, sir; there is nothing I like so much as grave conversation myself; I could hear it for ever. Indeed, I have often been surprised how a man of sentiment could ever admire those light airy pleasures, where nothing reaches the heart.
MARLOW. It’s——a disease——of the mind, madam. In the variety of tastes there must be some who, wanting a relish——for——um—a—um.
MISS HARDCASTLE. I understand you, sir. There must be some, who, wanting a relish for refined pleasures, pretend to despise what they are incapable of tasting.
MARLOW. My meaning, madam, but infinitely better expressed. And I can’t help observing——a——
MISS HARDCASTLE. (Aside.) Who could ever suppose this fellow impudent upon some occasions? (To him.) You were going to observe, sir——
MARLOW. I was observing, madam—I protest, madam, I forget what I was going to observe.
MISS HARDCASTLE. (Aside.) I vow and so do I. (To him.) You were observing, sir, that in this age of hypocrisy—something about hypocrisy, sir.
MARLOW. Yes, madam. In this age of hypocrisy there are few who upon strict inquiry do not—a—a—a—
MISS HARDCASTLE. I understand you perfectly, sir.
MARLOW. (Aside.) Egad! and that’s more than I do myself.
MISS HARDCASTLE. You mean that in this hypocritical age there are few that do not condemn in public what they practice in private, and think they pay every debt to virtue when they praise it.
MARLOW. True, madam; those who have most virtue in their mouths, have least of it in their bosoms. But I’m sure I tire you, madam.
MISS HARDCASTLE. Not in the least, sir; there’s something so agreeable and spirited in your manner, such life and force—pray, sir, go on.
MARLOW. Yes, madam. I was saying——that there are some occasions, when a total want of courage, madam, destroys all the——and puts us——upon a—a—a—
MISS HARDCASTLE. I agree with you entirely; a want of courage upon some occasions assumes the appearance of ignorance, and betrays us when we most want to excel. I beg you’ll proceed.
MARLOW. Yes, madam. Morally speaking, madam—But I see Miss Neville expecting us in the next room. I would not intrude for the world.
MISS HARDCASTLE. I protest, sir, I never was more agreeably entertained in all my life. Pray go on.
MARLOW. Yes, madam, I was——But she beckons us to join her. Madam, shall I do myself the honor to attend you?
MISS HARDCASTLE. Well, then, I’ll follow
MARLOW. (Aside.) This pretty smooth dialogue has done for me. [Exit.]

As I say, this was life in high school for me.

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