Chapter 19 #2
Michel Foucault – Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison (1975; English trans. 1977)
Richard A. Posner – Law and Literature (1988)
Derrick Bell – Faces at the Bottom of the Well: The Permanence of Racism (1992)
Edward S. Herman & Noam Chomsky – Manufacturing Consent: The Political Economy of the Mass Media (1988)
George Orwell – Nineteen Eighty-Four (1949)
Admittedly, legal ethics was a new field for me, but it would not only broaden my horizons and deepen my research, it would also enable me to attend Davian's lectures and seminars and understand the ethical foundations on which he based his courses.
I wasn't usually one to suck up to teachers, but something in me wanted to know what motivated this man, wanted to interact with him, even though I had decided to avoid physical proximity to him.
He hadn't even shown up on Saturday morning, and when Lara had told me that he had gone downtown to do some grocery shopping before meeting my brother for a jog, I had known he was avoiding me.
Not thinking about his thumb on my lip felt like a challenge. And he was completely back in my mind the moment he hurried past me down the stairs – in a gray plaid suit, wearing a light blue sweater over a white shirt – without noticing me.
He looked at his watch, even though he was only a minute late.
Immediately, the last ones standing sat down, while my traitorous heartbeat picked up speed.
“Sorry I'm late.” Davian's gaze wandered through the rows, but only briefly, and immediately that treacherous feeling of longing nestled inside me. “I'd like to get started right away.”
He started the projector and placed transparencies underneath it, which were then projected onto the wall. They listed topics in legal philosophy with subcategories and examples.
“Just so you know, I will use these lectures for legal philosophy and the associated seminars for debate theory. This means, today I will begin with an overview of theories in legal philosophy, which we will use for the first spontaneous debates in the seminar on Thursday.” Most of the students immediately pulled out their pens and notebooks.
“Everyone will have to take a turn, so don’t even think about sleeping or paying your friends for their notes.
Those of you who pay attention in this lecture should be able to take away a lot for the debate exercises. ”
Finally, his gaze lingered on me. And the remorse in his eyes made something inside me freeze.
Davian immediately looked away, began to speak, and while we all took notes and some asked questions, I couldn't shake the feeling that I had crossed a line and was now paying the price.
I should never have cried, never should have sunk against his chest...
I tried to concentrate on his lecture, tried not to seek his gaze, because that would drive me crazy sooner or later.
Davian made sure there was a relaxed atmosphere in the lecture hall.
This man spoke critically about current legal debates, criticized colleagues he didn't want to name with a balanced amount of humor and sarcasm, but everyone knew who he was talking about, and he had a charming sense of humor.
His smile made not only me but half the lecture hall smile as well.
We were all busy copying the slides and adding our own notes when a side door opened.
Only a few students looked up, but they immediately continued working because it was just a professor walking toward Davian with a cup of coffee.
Paper Clippings
Paul Leonard-Morgan
I wasn't able to continue working. For me, the old man in the black coat, olive-green suit, and gray-brown hair wasn't just any professor. He was the disease that would never disappear from my life.
Davian, who was standing in front of his documents, looked up and... nodded to him with a smile.
Something inside me stiffened.
How could the man I felt so connected to look at this monster as if they had been friends for decades?
My father returned the smile, set the coffee mug on the table, put a hand on Davian's shoulder, and automatically I dug my thumbnail into the other thumb's skin.
He smiled.
When was the last time I had seen a smile on this man's lips?
Davian explained something to him and my father nodded, laughed, before looking around the lecture hall.
I stiffened completely.
That was the moment he spotted me.
His expression froze. The smile slipped from his face, and Davian immediately followed his gaze.
Not being able to show him my resentment because the man I wanted to keep as far away from this war as possible was standing next to him was a new level of humiliation.
The hatred in my father's eyes was obvious, and even Lucas, who seemed to be the only student who noticed any of this, turned to me with raised eyebrows.
Warm wetness was already running down my thumbs, creeping under my nails, ready to stay there for days.
The concern in Davian's eyes didn't make it any better.
He said something to my father. And oh, how I would have loved to hear what. Because it made my father stare at the documents on the table and nod once before looking up at Davian, saying something too, and finally turning away to walk back to the side door.
Of course, he looked back once more. And that look, which I had only seen three times in my life so far, sent a chill down my spine.
It was the look he had given me at the desks of the reproachful teachers who had desperately invited him and me into their offices. That wordless promise to trash my room until my trampled toys were buried under scraps of paper.
Two Sides Of The Same Coin
Carlos Rafael Rivera
When the lecture was over, I took extra time to pack up all my things.
The blood on my fingertips had already dried, but I still had to be careful not to leave any traces in my notes.
I waited until the last two students – engrossed in a conversation about stocks – had left the lecture hall before slowly making my way down the stairs, fighting the excitement in my chest.
Davian leaned over his notes with a concentrated look, writing something down with his left hand. So he's ambidextrous...
He wore reading glasses. Something I wouldn't have expected to have its own charm, drawing my focus to the washed-out silver that blended into his ash-brown stubble.
I could stand here and become a staring victim of the architect who had constructed this man.
A genetic puzzle composed of beautiful fragments.
A part of that very insidious nature that wanted me to yearn for this man.
And who was I to want to escape this intoxication?
Who was I not to savor every moment of this life, to surrender to the laws of existence?
The battle against my inner nature was one I had not chosen, but one I would fight if it meant Davian could live his life in peace.
I cleared my throat and he immediately looked up, as if he hadn't heard me coming.
Surprise filled his eyes, followed by overwhelm.
Before any emotions could take control of my voice, I began to speak.
“What did you say to Professor Richter?”
He squinted as if he were confused. Eventually, he straightened up and swallowed, causing his Adam’s apple to move up and down.
“That you’re new and that he shouldn’t be too hard on you just because our colleagues have their prejudices.”
I gave a dry laugh and stepped up to the waist-high table.
“You don't need to defend me.” Not from my father.
Davian eyed me, and only then did I realize how much I was probably acting out of character for him right now.
“Feel free to remind Troy of his limits. But this man is a good person.”
His words, his defensive tone, and his serious gaze knocked me off balance.
What have you done to this man, Joseph?
Davian turned to his documents, and I couldn't help noticing how tensely he was holding his pen.
What if it was me? What if I was the problem from the beginning?
Davian didn't seem to know this man's destructive side, just as Anthony and Brittany had never gotten to know it.
What if they were all right and I gave my father no other choice?
What if, ever since I had come into existence, I had been holding the lighter to his fuses, gradually setting off all the bombs, and then wondering afterwards why I was bleeding to death?
Hastily, I opened the leather bag and pulled out what I had been carrying around with me for far too long.
“Davian?” I placed his suit jacket on the table and pushed it toward him. “Here.”
He stared at the garment as if it were a pair of nail scissors that someone had placed in his child's cradle. A reminder of a serious evening that meant far too much to me. One I reminisced about every night. Except now I had nothing left to desperately snuggle up in.
Could you please give me a new one?
Avoiding his gaze, I stared at the coffee cup on his table.
It was clear to me that Davian had everything I didn't. He was intelligent, ambitious, a man who managed to suppress his destructive inner voices and urges and someone who was able to fit perfectly into this system.
“I'm sorry,” I said quickly. “About the weekend.”
The elephant that had been hovering in the room above us gradually fell victim to gravity.