A teacher crush story from the 12th centaury

Today in philosophy class we were talking about Christian philosophy and mentioned ,of course, Peter Abelard.
I couldn’t believe my ears when the professor sad that Abelard was in a romantic relationship with his student Héloise!
I suddenly became more interested and after he finished the lesson I asked “What was the age gap between Peter and Héloise?”
And P(the professor) was shocked I asked that and replied :
“You’re asking for the age gap?! There is no age , this is true love!!! Age doesn’t mean a thing!”
Best. Answer. Ever. ★

What a puzzle

Originally posted by wizardfrenchfries

He found his father-in-law in the sitting room that overlooked the rose garden and the fountain, where the western wall was only a thousand panes of polished glass. The sun was setting and the room was filled with the rich, amber sunlight of a late summer evening and the paler flickers from the hearth where drift-wood burned. Belle preferred the strangely shaped, salt-rimed wood to the traditional oak and pine for the unusual dancing color of the flames, the unpredictable shower of silver sparks, the fineness of the ash left in the hearth. Maurice was smoking a pipe and the smoke curled like twilight coming into the room, scenting the room with its sweetness.

“Maurice, I need to talk to you,” Adam began, running his hand through his hair half-distracted, marveling a little at how human it felt.

“I wondered how long it would take for you to figure it out,” Maurice said, puffing a little on the pipe, then setting it aside. “Frankly, I’m rather impressed with how quickly you have understood. I have perhaps underestimated you,” he said calmly, with an appraising amusement Adam had never been subjected to before. The older man made a small gesture of encouragement.

“It’s Belle. She’s…” Adam trailed off, searching himself for the correct word, the right collection of words that would explain it.

“She’s terrifying,” her father said plainly. “She’s always been this way, you know. Imagine how it was for me, I could hardly speak of it, of her, to anyone else. And such a little girl, no one would have believed me.”

“I thought she just liked to read. I thought she was very bright, self-taught– I thought,” Adam said. Maurice interrupted.

“You thought you could keep up with her. That it would be easy to do so, no?”

“I found her reading Vitruvius and Taccola, di Giorgio in the library. I didn’t know I owned the books, but I do. We do. I hardly knew who they were but she explained. I thought she would be reading Marlowe or Sidney or Marie de France, getting drunk on poetry, but she is designing a new mill and a bridge for Villeneuve now!” Adam exclaimed.

“When she was four, she built herself an abacus from the clock-work gears she found in my workshop. She learned German from the Belgian woman who made the best rolls in town when we were in Bergues, Latin from the priest,” Maurice paused. “I always wished there was an academy for her to attend, a tutor I could hire but there was no school which would take her, no teacher I could afford. Even to buy her a book was beyond me.”

“Does she love me only for my library?” Adam asked, aware he sounded overly dramatic, the echo of the self he had been before Belle, before the Beast, when he had been the prince and never gainsaid by anyone. Maurice just laughed.

“Of course not, you young fool. She is my daughter, but I’m not blind—anyone can see how she looks at you. But you must see her, understand her, if you want to make her happy—and it may not be easy. She’s not an easy woman, Belle, even if she might seem that way,” Maurice said.

“Go on,” Adam said. He had not yet learned enough humility to ask for the guidance he needed but if it was being offered, as Maurice was doing…

“She read all the time because as odd as it was, the villagers could understand it. There have been women who loved God’s word before and this is France, we have had our troubadours, our lays, our Heloise to Abelard. They could not understand a woman who was an engineer, who could rebuild their crumbling bridge, their windmills, re-design a city to resist the plague. To be fair, I’m not sure where she might go that the people would know what to make of her. But you, you have been several selves already, have been transformed and taught, however bluntly, by Madame Agathe, to see within and to accept. You might be the making of her,” Maurice said, pausing. “And I should like to see it. Her mother was much the same and I only painted her. Don’t do that.”

“I haven’t the skill or the inclination,” Adam replied, considering what a lovely model Belle would make, except that the static representation could never capture her essential quality of action, her mind, her eye, her hand all vital and primed to observe and change what was around her.

“Devote your talents to other endeavors, then. Buy her more books, yes, but also a surveyor’s kit, some broken clocks, a quantity of charcoal and paper, and if there is an opportunity for you to consult an architect, invite the man to dinner,” Maurice said. “You’re lucky,” he added. “You may invite whatever guests will please her and not worry that she will prepare the meal. She has many gifts, but cooking bores her. The kitchen doesn’t take such inattention lightly.”

“No, I gather from Mrs. Potts it does not. Have you any other wisdom to impart?” Adam answered.

“Nothing you cannot divine for yourself. You are intelligent enough, even if you are not her equal. Don’t let her know it and don’t forget it. Now, what vintage will we share tonight? A Burgundy? I thought I smelled some capon…”

Twenty-One: Part Fifteen (the second bit)

Part One | Part Fifteen (the first bit) | Part Fifteen (the second bit) | Part Sixteen |


Here goes.

I take a deep breath and imagine Emilia, stoney faced and miserable sat in her office as she watches the renovation works take place, I remember the promise I made to her that I had a plan, how happy I know she could be if this all works out, and I conjure back the confidence that so often lands me in trouble.

Keep reading

Reasons why you should have a confounding love for the Dark Prophecy in general

☆ The conflict and ambush focus would be on Camp Jupiter prior to the mentions in TDP. OUR CHILDREN???

☆ Apollo’s explanation on simultaneous inhabitants of deities.

☆ Lityerses. Once to misunderstood antagonist but is believed to have second or moreover odds.




☆ Abelard and Heloise. May Heloise rest in peace.

☆ APOLLO CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT REGARDING HIS BLOOD CURDLING DEBACLES. His mechanism unfurls into something more empathizing and engaging, to the extent of sympathizing as well as pleasing to himself to stop utilizing half-bloods as disposable fodder.



SAPPHIC REPRESENTATION. Emmiphine revolves under enthralling circumstances, especially as they were Huntress’ of Artemis and origin from different eras. Hemithea and Josephine are the real MVPs. Also Georgina as their daughter I’m crying.

☆ Commodus Commode’s.

Disassembling Festus like legos. The ironic simile??

☆ L e o n i d a s . Not Leonardo, not your typical and average namesake, hoes.

☆ Camp Jupiter. I love Camp Half-Blood but need I say more?

the signs as great loves

 aries: bonnie & clyde // rebellious

taurus: josephine & napoleon // intense

gemini: anne boleyn & henry Viii // volatile

cancer: queen victoria & prince albert // loyal

virgo: zelda sayre & f. scott fitzgerald // passionate

leo: nancy spungen & sid vicious // unpredictable

libra: cleopatra & antony // decadent 

scorpio: frida kahlo & diego rivera // tumultuous

sagittarius: helen of troy & paris // impulsive

capricorn: simone de beauvoir & sartre // cerebral

aquarius: fanny brawne & john keats // creative

pisces: heloise and abelard // legendary 

Bin Yıllık Aşk Mektupları: Abelard ve Heloise

“Gerçek bu; sen olmayan her şey için ölüyüm ben.” — Abelard
“Tanrı böyle sevemiyorsa, ben seviyorum!” — Heloise

Tarihin en hüzünlü aşklarından biriydi onlarınki. Bu aşkın kalbinde sözcükler, sözcüklere bin yıldır yolculuk yaptıran mektuplar vardı. Abelard ve Heloise’in tutku dolu aşklarının koşarak sürgüne gidişine tanıklık eden mektuplar.. Abelard 12.yüzyılın parlak filozoflarından biriydi. Aynı zamanda şairdi. Paris’te herkesin ders almak istediği önemli bir öğretim görevlisiydi. Heloise, Latince, Yunanca, İbranice konuşabilen, üstün yeteneklere sahip, güzelliği ile büyüleyen bir genç kızdı. Dayısı Flaubert ile yaşıyordu. Flaubert Heloise’in yeteneklerinin farkındaydı ve onun eğitimine çok önem veriyordu. Dönemin parlak filozofu Abelard’dan ders alma ihtimali doğduğunda tereddüt etmeden kabul etti ve Heloise Abelard’ın öğrencisi oldu. Abelard 37, Heloise ise 17 yaşındaydı. Abelard Helois’in kendisiyle savaşan zekâsından ve güzelliğinden çok etkilendi, ilişkileri kısa sürede tutkulu bir aşka dönüştü. Dayı Flaubert, Abelard ve Heloise arasındaki aşkı fark ettiğinde çok öfkelendi ve onları birbirlerinden uzaklaştırdı. Flaubert’in gerçek dayı olmadığı, olsa bile Heloise’ e gizli bir aşk duyduğu konuşuluyordu. Ayrılıklarından kısa süre sonra Heloise’in hamile olduğu anlaşıldı. Abelard, Heloise’i gizlice dayısının evinden kaçırarak Britanya’ya ailesinin yanına götürdü. Heloise orada bir erkek çocuk doğurdu. Abelard, dayı Flaubert’e mektup yazarak evleneceklerini bildirdi ve onları affetmesini istedi ancak evliliklerinin gizli kalmasını istiyordu. Heloise ise bu fikre sıcak bakmıyor, evlenmeye yanaşmıyordu. Abelard’ın bir filozof olduğunu evliliğin ona uygun olmadığını ve evliliğin aşklarını öldüreceğini düşünüyordu. Abelard ısrarcıydı ve gizli evlilik gerçekleşti. Fransa’ya döndüklerinde Heloise evlilik dışı bir çocuk doğurduğu için büyük tepkilerle karşılaştı. O artık toplumun gözünde kötü bir kadındı ve dayı Flaubert bu durumdan hiç memnun değildi. Abelard, Heloise’i dayısından koruması gerektiğini fark etti ve onu bir manastıra gönderdi. Ancak kendini koruyamayacaktı. Flaubert’in dinmeyen öfkesi vahşete dönüştü. Abelard, bir gece uyurken odasına gelen dört kişi tarafından hadım edildi. Kendini aşağılanış hissederek dünyayla bağını kopardı. Rahiplik yapmaya karar vererek bir manastıra kapandı. Heloise’i de yaşamına rahibe olarak devam etmesi konusunda ikna etti. Artık iki ayrı manastırda birbirlerine delice aşık birer rahip ve rahibeydiler. 

Abelard, her şeyin dinsel kurallarla açıklanmaya çalışıldığı bir dönemde, akılcı felsefeyi savunduğu için kilisenin hedefi olmuştu. Başına gelen bu olaydan sonra kilise onun ve düşüncelerinin lanetlenmesine karar verdi ve tüm eserleri yakıldı. Abelard bir kez daha yıkılmıştı. Adına “Sığınak” dediği küçük bir manastır kurdu kendine. Ancak burada da fazla duramadı. Düşmanlık ve söylentiler peşini bırakmıyordu. Britanya’ya gitmeye karar verdi ve orada bir manastıra kapandı. Heloise ise Abelard’ın isteği üzerine birkaç rahibe ile “Sığınak”a yerleşti. Artık birbirlerini görmüyorlar, haber alamıyorlardı. Aradan yıllar geçti, Abelard “Bir Mutsuzluk Öyküsü” adlı bir mektup yazmıştı. Mektup tesadüfen Heloise’in eline geçti. Satırlarda Abelard’ın özlemini, acısını gören Heloise ilk mektubu yazdı. Ve yüzyıllar boyunca nice sanatçıya ilham kaynağı olacak mektupların yolculuğu başladı. Abelard 61 yaşında bağışlanması için Papa’ya giderken Roma yolunda öldü. Heloise’in yaşamı ise 22 yıl sonra Cluncy Manastırında son buldu. Yaşamları boyunca bir daha birbirlerine dokunamayan bedenlerinin kalıntıları yüzyıllar sonra Paris Piere Lachaise mezarlığında bir araya getirildi. Çocukları ile ilgili herhangi bir bilgiye ulaşılamadı. Orijinali Latince olan yedi mektup çeşitli dillere çevrilerek yeniden yorumlandı.


“The distinction between the virtual and the real never struck me as being of capital importance. After all, we can have great encounters in the forms of absence, abstinence or virtuality. We can have a love that remains even at a great distance. Heloise and Abelard or Tristan and Isolde are myths, but they indicate that the instances of loving fidelity are extremely varied. We have considerable loyalty for the absent just as we have considerable dishonesty toward the present.” – Alain Badiou

dandelionfoyer replied to your quote “Kai returned the pipette to its wrapper. The man in the seat next to…”

oh no i had a bet with a friend that Iskar was Britain

@dandelionfoyer hey, you never know! :D  Hopefully we’ll get to go to Iskar in later books (possibly even in The Ruin of Angels, going by early reviews?!), and then we’ll find out.  Though Camlaan does sound like Camlann, i.e. the field where King Arthur died, which to me suggests it’s England, sorry!

kitmarlowes replied to your post “given that Three Parts Dead is all about mentor-mentee relationships…”

peter abelard is the WOOOOOOOORST (i’m sure this fictional dude is great and i’m hijacking your post i just needed to get out of my system how much he is The Worst

@kitmarlowes heeee, I’ll have to take your word for it on that!  I’ve never read his and Héloïse’s letters; it’s a story that’s fascinated me for a while (love relationships that fuse intellectual and romantic passion–also I cannot get over their son being called ASTROLABE, that is the absolute best), but at the same time something’s always held me back……it might be that I feel kind of squicked when I think about the forced castration, or possibly just that my knowledge of medieval philosophy is absolute zero?  But I’ll bump them up the to-read list.

As for Gladstone’s Abelard, he’s a sweet, devoted, chainsmoking novice priest-technician (the Church of Kos is totally steampunk Catholicism), whose relationships with Elayne and Tara are really cute - Tara learns a little more patience with people who aren’t familiar with the Craft, he learns that Those Craftspeople are more than just heathen godless immoral witches, and we see a warmer, wryly teasing side to Elayne. (notwithstanding the incredibly ruthless thing she does to him partway through the book - which saves the day, but wow she’s a force of nature.) 

Two things these books do incredibly well are a) people with very different worldviews recognising their common humanity and b) opposite-gender friendship (another great example is Abelard and Cat), and you really see that in how Abelard gets on with these two strange ladies who’ve suddenly rocked up in Alt Coulumb.

anonymous asked:

I'm the top 10 moments anon from mindy lahirisms blog and I'm posing the same questions to you. YOUR TOP 20 (YES, 20) MINDY/BJ MOMENTS GO GO GO

OKAY I’M FINALLY DOING THIS. this is off the top of my head and in no particular order (despite the numeration):

  1. the time mindy requested a homemade birthday card from “keo” AND KEO ACTUALLY DELIVERS ON THE REQUEST A MONTH LATER. heart stickers and all.
  2. the fact that #1 happened literally hours after MINDY AND BJ LITERALLY BECAME HARRY AND SALLY
  4. mindy gets her own line in the acknowledgements of bj’s book, one more thing, right after he acknowledged his entire family. 
  5. in the least chill move of the century, bj casts mindy as “the girl of his dreams” in the book trailer for one more thing. COOL.
  6. mindy reads the part of every (non-robotic) love interest in the one more thing audiobook, including an entire love story that is a direct counterpart to a story that bj reads. ONE MORE THING HAS GIVEN US SO MUCH.
  8. bj novak cries during sex, pass it on
  9. actual visual proof that mindy and bj text + tweet while standing directly in each other’s personal space (s/o to cathy from the office)
  10. THE HOWARD STERN INTERVIEW HEARD ‘ROUND THE WORLD. mindy admits bj was the love of her life, would’ve married him if he’d asked. moment of silence in commemoration of this interview.
  11. moment of silence over. bj’s mom calls him up after the stern interview to tell him to GET HIS FUCKING LIFE TOGETHER. another moment of silence, pls.
  12. i once had a fever dream where mindy and bj reunited after bj was touring around europe for like a million years and they went on a date where they gazed at the supermoon on a malibu beach. CRAZY DREAM, AMIRITE???
  13. i’m starting to stretch the definition of ‘moments’ here but that whole thing where mindy wrote a two-episode arc for bj on her show about two best friends who don’t realize that they’ve been in love all along! can’t even make this stuff up!!! 
  14. july 24 - the day mindy psyched us all up because there was a SPECIAL GUEST coming to work that day!!! is it rhea perlman, the upcoming guest star??? NO, IT’S BJ NOVAK, THAT ONE GUY THAT SHE SEES LITERALLY EVERY DAY OF HER LIFE.
  15. suddenly, out of the blue: “you are the girl of my memes.” what??? why???? how???????
  16. that ongoing thing where mindy explains that she can’t write a chapter on bj in her books ever, because their story isn’t over yet and maybe she should write a song about him instead
  17. hey mindy kaling! what’s your favourite place in the world? let me guess - the empire state building, right? SORRY, WHAT, IT’S BJ NOVAK’S DECK?????
  18. bj KEEPS PROPOSING….. the idea that he and mindy should write a book together, much like abelard and heloise, two french philosophers known for their tragic love story.
  19. look out mindy, ‘cause bj’s fictional little sister is gonna be the WICKEST AUNT TO YOUR KIDS
  20. happy birthday, rude boy. can you get it up?
Please Don’t Skin Me Alive: Why the Writers Accidentally Made Thallen More Healthy and Compatible than Westallen

Ok, so I have to say something. I’m probably going to lose followers and get hate mail, but I need to point out something vitally wrong with Westallen. Before you decide to kill me, just hear me out:

I wish I could ship them, but something about it always seemed off(and no, it’s not her being black; I think it’s an ingenious deviation from the comics) and I just wrote it off as my natural resistance to shipping the canon flagship. But after doing some research on the myers-briggs personality types I finally know what my problem is. 

Not only are Barry and Iris the SAME type (ENFP), which means they cannot balance one another out, but they are also both NF’s, which is the Apollonian temperament. Same types together aren’t always catastrophic, but this similarity is different. And I must point out that yes, they make great friends, but this similarity is only poisonous when the relationship is romantic.

 You know what other couples were both NF’s? Romeo and Juliet, Heloise and Abelard, Mark Antony and Cleopatra, and every other tragic, hyper-passionate romance. Which, while dramatic and exciting, are also unhealthy and unstable. I also admit they were all star-crossed but honestly that’s irrelevant. They are both emotional and passionate and that combination by itself is dangerous: “These violent delights have violent ends And in their triumph die, like fire and powder, Which as they kiss consume. The sweetest honey Is loathsome in his own deliciousness And in the taste confounds the appetite. Therefore love moderately; long love doth so; Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow” The fact that this refers to lovers getting married after knowing each other only a day and Westallen being in love (but not together) for over a decade is irrelevant. The “violent delights” part is the important part of the quote. Intensity does not need hastiness to be dangerous. These NF romances are all cautionary tales and nothing to aspire to. That’s not what I want for Barry. He’s got too much to deal with already.

 Eddie, while emotionally in tune, tends to think rather than lead with his emotions (the scene where Barry runs Eddie out of the precinct in 1x19 is a perfect example of Eddie thinking and Barry acting on emotion). Eddie can ground him, which is what he needs. And also why I wound up shipping them. I’m unsure what type Eddie is, but I do know ideally that Barry would need an ISTJ or INTJ in order to have a solid relationship. 

Iris has shown multiple times that she leads with her emotions: when she wrote about the Flash despite the justified (and later validated) warnings against it; when Barry gave her a clear, obvious reason as to why Eddie was keeping something from her yet that didn’t matter because “when you love someone, you tell them everything” even if you’re a detective who by job description would not be allowed to do just that; and then there was what Joe said about her reaction if Eddie proposed, which was that she would get swept up in the moment, say yes, and realize too late that she married the wrong guy. 

And let me point out why Iris doesn’t realize she loves Barry: it’s not denial. Iris just doesn’t take the time to figure out WHY she feels what she feels for Barry. It would take a huge emotional moment–like that tsunami thing– for her to realize it. But honestly if this bit right here doesn’t quite make sense, Wells literally explained it in “Rogue Time.”

Just because two people love each other does not mean they are right for each other. *drops mic and sprints to hide backstage.*

Bibliography: Please Understand Me: Character & Temperament Types by David Keirsey and Marilyn Bates

Love Potions

There are absolutely unsettling implications to love potions.

However, the muggle perspective on rape/sexual ethics has gotten a lot more nuanced over the years (e.g., spousal rape, date rape, etc). So perhaps the in-universe explanation is that the wizarding world just isn’t there yet. Using a love potion isn’t considered quite as seriously as it should be.

I think it helps that people under them are relatively easy to spot, especially since it involves a major behavior change. I would not be at all surprised if wizards were taught to recognize the signs of a love potion just as we’re taught not to leave a drunk friend behind at a party or to watch our drinks.

Of course, that still leaves muggles unprotected and unaware, but the fact that wizards wouldn’t really consider the implications of using a love potion on a muggle tallies with how wizards tend to view muggles in general. It makes you wonder if any famous muggle love stories could be attributed to a love potion Romeo and Juliet? Antony and Cleopatra? Heloise and Abelard?

anonymous asked:

do you have a take/thoughts on abelard/heloise?

so imagine you are this ferociously smart woman

(I don’t just mean “did well on the SATs”, I mean the smartest woman in the world, people tell you so, everyone knows it. You wanted to learn Hebrew and so you learned Hebrew, and also Greek, and you write philosophy in your spare time, nbd, you’ve never not gotten what you wanted)

and because your dad (uncle, whatever) cares about your education, he gets you this really great tutor, who is known as the smartest dude around medieval Paris.

….oh also, this tutor? nobility, and just smoking hot, plus a bit of a bad boy (he was forbidden to teach theology in Paris by Anselm—father of modern theology Anselm! no one’s made black leather pants yet, but oh yeah, this dude is wearing the fuck out of them) 

so you guys talk about Greek and Biblical exegesis and natural philosophy and you wear that wimple, the one that really shows off your chin, and because you’ve never not gotten what you wanted—

(except this is medieval Paris and there’s no birth control so suddenly you’re pregnant, and you’ve gotta secret-marry him so he doesn’t lose his job, and then your uncle finds out and sends you off to a convent (“YOU CAN’T HAVE THE HOTS FOR TEACHER WE HAVEN’T INVENTED THAT TROPE YET”) plus he dispatches dudes to castrate your hubby, because oh my god???)

after that you kind of drift apart, until your whole nunnery is kicked out by another order, and he offers you his family’s land to start a new convent with. At this point in Christian history, having a convent is like that tax deduction you get for charitable donations, except with your immortal soul.

but your teacher has gone sort of extremely religious??? and written an autobiography where he basically says you’re a whore and shouldn’t have let him stick it to you, because it made Jesus cry.

(which—he was castrated by your uncle, so you can see where he’s coming from. But also, rude.)

so you write him a letter basically saying, fuck you I just wanted a nsa hookup with the hot professor, you’re the one who wanted us to get married. Also sorry for your issues but way not to talk to me for a couple years, suuuuuper classy

but you’re still the two smartest people around, so you write to each other about those questions of Biblical exegesis and natural philosophy, and argue about whether you really loved each other or just wanted in each others’ pants.

oh also no one knows what happened to your kid? but then you named him Astrolabe, so, really, what choice did he have.