Pretence
Corliss watched as “a young man and a younger woman” walked in “the student union café” and sat “two tables away.” The place wasn’t crowded, so Corliss “clearly heard the young couple’s conversation.” He told her “where he was from and where he wanted to go after the college, and how much he loved these books and those teachers but hated those movies and these classes.” That was a really pathetic attempt of “an ordinary man” to seduce an ordinary woman. Suddenly, he quoted Auden’s poem. Corliss was confused by that “poetic non sequitur,” for “very few young men read poetry at Washington State University.” The irony is that he hasn’t even read it. He just read an article about the poet and tried to impress the girl with his knowledge.
Reality
Corliss didn’t want to live with “a white roommate.” The reason of it was that white people, “no matter how smart,” were “too romantic about Indians.” Being smart, Corliss had always taken advantage of “this romanticism,” but it didn’t mean she wanted to share “the refrigerator with it.” If “white folks assumed she was serene and spiritual and wise” simply because she was an Indian, Corliss saw “no reason to contradict them.” The world is “a competitive place,” and “a poor Indian girl” needs “all the advantages she can get.” The irony is that “it’s tough to share a bathroom with an Indian” and “continue to romanticize her.”
Impossible
Corliss was puzzled since she had used all of the search engines to find at least something about Harlan Atwater but had failed spectacularly. The girl couldn’t believe it; Harlan Atwater claimed to be a Spokane, just like her, but she had never heard of him. Corliss’ mother was her last hope, for this woman was “the unofficial historian of the urban Spokane Indians” and knew everyone in their community, so Corliss called her, hoping to find the answer. The irony is that Corliss’ mother is not only the historian but a “pathological liar” too, which is not the best quality for a historian.
