Are literature students doomed in love?

That light through yonder window breaks wind


We’ve read it all. From star crossed lovers in Shakespeare’s “Romeo and Juliet”, to the undeniable magnetism between Jane and Mr Rochester, in “Jane Eyre” – those of us studying English Lit have all kinds of love thrust upon us on a daily basis.

But does that make us doomed ourselves?

Am I doomed?

From the friend breaking out of the friendzone, unbelievable locations for the first kiss and the most ridiculous acts of passion, books have it all.

But are they realistic? Or is the idea that “love conquers all” just meant to stay in the realms of fiction?

The first kiss for example, for me, was a great big fat disappointment. I remember wanting it to be magical – beautiful location, guy who literally adored me and all that jazz.

I was of course, inspired by my copious amounts of reading, where first kisses were the epitome of romance, and so it had to live up to my expectation.

But my first kiss was with some boy from another school, that I had just met that evening. It was by the men’s loos at a rugby club disco. Great.

He was my boyfriend for the grand total of a month though, so all was not lost in my quest for romance.

Now, needless to say, I have become a lot more realistic in my expectations.

The standard response

And I don’t believe that guys should always make the first move, I am very brave in that respect. Though, normally my feelings come out in a huge temper tantrum while drunk.

But I do believe that literature does set some kind of standard. At least, in my life it definitely has.

Who would be satisfied with a bag of chips after someone’s had dinner atop the Eiffel Tower?

And no one is going to be overly chuffed with a walk along the prom after Edward carried Bella on his back across the tree tops.

The most “romantic” thing someone has done for me is lie about their age and make themselves six years younger, so that I would go on a date with them. Aw.

In books both sexes go above and beyond for the one they love, for friends and for family. Everything is dramatized to create this beautiful story, that takes the reader out of reality, and into their own little world for hours at a time.

Granted not all of us need books to do that. But books are always better, because reality revolves around whatsapp and tinder.

To be fair, my tinder romances are so tragic, they could probably make their own full-length novel. Woe is my life.

Books describe gatherings between friends as the best fun, alcohol flowing, laughter carrying throughout the night. One of my nights ended in me stripping my friend down and showering him coz he shat himself and I was the only one kind enough to help him clear the mess up.

I also got with him that night.

It is one of our favourite stories to tell now, but it was awkward for a solid year afterwards.

Also as an English Lit student, I am taught to read into everything, and question everything. You replied with “ok” instead of “okay”? Sound the alarms because something is wrong and I will investigate thoroughly.

SO MANY BOOKS

So why the hell do people freak out when I ask lots of questions, I am literally just trying to analyse every aspect of you so that I can assess your moods/temper/life at any given time.

It’s a nice thing I promise.

Relax, it is totally fine. I am normal I swear, all thanks to my love of literature.

Where for art thou sanity?