Sylvain Reynard

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The Professor tells a story from his Oxford days

November 4, 2013

Dear Everyone,

The Professor was invited by the Fictional Boyfriends Facebook page to take over their account for an hour on November 3rd. During that time, he shared a story from his days at Magdalen College, Oxford University.

Several readers contacted me asking if I would post the story, because they didn’t have Facebook accounts. So I’m posting the story here, with thanks to Fictional Boyfriends for hosting a very enjoyable discussion. You can find their page (and the Professor’s remarks) here.

Here is the Professor’s account, in his own words:

 A number of years ago, when I was doing a Master’s degree at Oxford University, I was walking with two of my friends toward Magdalen College.  It was after last call at our favourite pub. We were slightly inebriated but cheerful as we wandered down High Street toward our beds.
Just as we were passing an alley next to All Souls College, I noticed a couple kissing in the shadows. Being somewhat of a voyeur, I stopped to watch.
Unfortunately, my friend Nigel didn’t notice that I’d stopped and so he bumped into the back of me.
“Watch where you’re going!” He cursed a couple of times, before noticing that my attention had been drawn elsewhere.
Our collective gazes fixed on the couple.  The man was pressing a blonde woman against a wall. At first, I thought their kiss was consensual. But when she turned her face to the side and began pushing him away, I realized it wasn’t.
In response, the man swore and pulled her hair, jerking her head back.  She cried out in pain.
I moved toward them but Nigel took hold of my arm.  “Not a good idea, Emerson.”
I shrugged him off. “He’s roughing her up.”
“Probably her partner. You don’t want to get involved.”
“Fuck that.” I turned toward the alley.  “Hey, jackass!”
The man glanced in my direction. “Piss off.” 
He continued to pull the woman’s hair and I could hear her speaking to him in a low voice, begging him to let her go.
“You knew I was talking to you. A remarkable show of intelligence for a jackass.” I drew myself up to my full height of six foot, two inches. The man was larger than me, taller, and probably outweighed me by a good fifty pounds. But I never backed down from a challenge.
“Here we go,” my friend, Clive, muttered.
The man grabbed the woman’s arm, pulling her behind him.  “I said piss off.”

“Make me.”  I moved in his direction. 
“Come on, Emerson. I think one arrest a term is enough.” Clive spoke, before exchanging a worried look with Nigel.
“I’m just going to make sure she’s all right.” I made eye contact with the woman, who was much younger than I had thought, and flashed a smile. “Hello, love. Everything okay?”
The man’s grip on her tightened. “Let’s go.”  He tried to drag her farther into the alley, but she planted her feet.
“I don’t want to go with him.  Help me.” Her voice was low and worried, her expression panicked.
I took a step forward and clenched my fists.  “Now would be a good time to let her go and be on your way.”
“Sod off.”   The man wrenched her arm behind her back. She cried out in pain.
“Right. I tried speaking to you nicely, now I’m going to have to teach you a lesson.” I took another step and since my friends were, in fact, my friends, they followed.  “Let her go.”
 “Make me.” The man grinned maniacally, gripping the woman even more tightly.
I shook my head.  “Now you’re just being stubborn. But because I’m a patient person, I’ll let you rethink your decision. Let the lady go, and I won’t hurt you.” 
The man turned away from us and began dragging the woman toward Radcliffe Camera.
I sighed, before walking after them. I took no more than three steps before the man whirled around and swung his fist in the general direction of my head.
Luckily, I ducked.
Although I was drunk, I wasn’t stupid, so when I came up, I punched him in the stomach. As a result, he let go of the woman and doubled over.
Like a gentleman, I proceeded to insult him, his parentage, and his mother, while waiting for him to catch his breath.
Unfortunately, I waited a little too long.  He straightened and managed to clip my chin with his knuckles.
I went back a foot and rubbed my jaw.
“That was mistake,” I growled.
When he took another swing at me, I planted my feet and hit his nose with my right and his jaw with my left.  He fell on his ass, screaming in pain like a little girl.  I took this opportunity to give him a swift kick to the ribs, just to ensure that he wouldn’t get up.
At this point, Nigel peered down at the man, who was now writhing in pain and spitting blood.  He placed his foot in the general proximity of the man’s genitalia.
“Don’t even think about it,” he whispered.
The man simply groaned.
Nigel removed his foot and rubbed his hands together.  “Well, that’s done and dusted. Shall we?”
I looked beyond him to where the young woman was standing, noticing that she had a hand over her mouth and looked as if she were about to burst into tears.
I lifted my arms in an expression of surrender.  “We aren’t going to hurt you. You can be on your way and or we can help you hire a taxi.”
“I was on my way home.” She spoke with an American accent, her voice shaking. “I was out with a friend, but we got separated.”  

She glanced down at her assailant. “He followed me from the pub and – grabbed me.”
“We can escort you, if you like. Or you can walk ahead of us.” I gestured toward the High Street.
She nodded and approached us cautiously.  “Um, I’m at Magdalen.”
“So are we.” Nigel smiled.
“You’re American.”  She gave me an appraising look.
“From Pennsylvania.”
“Minnesota,” she replied.
“Pleased to meet you, although it’s under unfortunate circumstances.”  I extended my hand. “Gabriel Emerson.”
“Thank you for coming to my rescue, Gabriel.”  She stepped forward hesitantly, then shook my hand. Her touch was feather light and warm.
“And your name?” I smiled, for she was very pretty.
She looked up into my eyes.  “Paulina.”
 –
Thanks for reading, everyone. 

I’m pleased to report that “Le Divin Enfer de Gabriel:  Tome 2, L’extase” is doing very well amongst French readers around the world. Merci beaucoup. It’s possible I’ll have good news for French readers soon. 

We have less than a month to the release date of Gabriel’s Redemption.  To help the time pass more quickly, several more outtakes and surprises are forthcoming. Stay tuned for details.

All the best,
SR.
www.sylvainreynard.com

19 Comments Filed Under: outtake, Oxford, Professor

Literature – “The Hobbit”

May 31, 2011

Dear Everyone,


As I mentioned last post , I believe that adults can enjoy children’s literature as much as children. Along those lines, I’ve included references to at least two children’s books in my novel, Gabriel’s Inferno.

One of my favourite authors is J.R.R. Tolkien. He was a friend and colleague of C.S. Lewis and a member of the Inklings. The Inklings used to meet for drinks and discussions at The Eagle and Child pub in Oxford, which is affectionately called The Bird and Baby by locals. If you’re ever in Oxford, order your pint and go straight to the back room. If you close your eyes while you sample your beer, you’ll feel the ghosts of the Inklings poking you in the shoulder. You might even hear them whispering. (I’ll save what they said to me for another post.)

In Gabriel’s Inferno, there is a scene in which the heroine, Julia Mitchell, refers to another character as Gollum. In Julia’s mind, she is caught in a struggle with Gollum for the Precious. Both references are taken from J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Hobbit. This work, perhaps more so than The Lord of the Rings trilogy, is a children’s book.
For my purposes, there are at least two interesting things about the character of Gollum. First, he begins his life as something like a Hobbit. By the time we are introduced to him in the story, he’s a monster. Tolkien has some interesting ideas about the effects of evil on a creature’s character and physical appearance as evidenced by Gollum’s history. Second, Gollum has an inordinate attachment to the Ring, which he calls his Precious. The passages in which Tolkien gives the reader access to Gollum’s internal musings are truly frightening.

In a few pages, Tolkien contributes a fascinating account of single-minded obsession and it’s damaging effects. There are others in literature, such as the the shades that inhabit Dante’s Inferno, but Tolkien’s contribution is probably my favourite and certainly one of the clearest. (Parenthetically, it must be noted that there is a bit of sarcasm attached to my usage of these references in Gabriel’s Inferno. Readers will need to decide for themselves how precious The Precious actually is.)

All the best and thanks for reading,
SR
www.sylvainreynard.com
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4 Comments Filed Under: Literature, Oxford, Tolkien

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About The Author

fluer-de-lisI am honoured to have had all three of my novels appear on the New York Times and USA Today Bestseller lists. I was a Semifinalist for Best Author in the 2011 and 2012 Goodreads Choice Awards. {More About Sylvain}

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