video, un: revolution

[idealisme]

What would you die for?


[There's no preamble. Enjolras is not in the mood to set the scene. He's been thinking and gotten nowhere so he wants the input of others. Over his shoulder it's apparent his room a shambles, a young man living alone with his mind on things other than housekeeping.]

For myself there's a cause that I've given all my life to. It's the highest ideal I can imagine. I know that is not a usual thing. Life is precious; until I woke up here I'd have said that death precluded any second chances at it. But that's beside the point.

I ask because I thought I others shared my opinions. It is rational to give your life only for the most important ideal. Sacrificing yourself for just anything- to get any item or even for another person... [His lips pinch together in thought, his eyes look distant for a moment.] I have not been able to reconcile it.

[A quick sigh escapes him, frustrated.]

I would appreciate your sincere answers and insights. Thank you.

Comments

[pluspetitpoete]

First you accuse him of having now beliefs, and now that you know what they are it's worse.

Let him have something. He has so little, Enjolras, why would you begrudge him his one conviction?

[idealisme]

[The response is completely unexpected. For a moment Enjolras can't respond.

Eventually he manages-] A man should die for more than... [He waves his hands, finding that he doesn't have the words for something he doesn't wholly understand.]

[pluspetitpoete]

[For love. It's on the tip of his tongue to say, and he has to look away. To gather himself before he speaks again.]

Who are you to say what a man should and should not die for? If he believes in something strongly enough to lay down his life, then let him have that.

Please. [His voice softens to something more pleading.] Please don't dismiss him because his ideals don't match yours. I don't think he could bear it.

[idealisme]

[Because it is not logical, Enjolras wants to say.

He stops, because that isn't exactly the truth.

A long sigh escapes him, frustrated.] He has borne it so far.

[pluspetitpoete]

Not well.

I know he hides it under his cynical remarks and his silly speeches, but he's a deeply sad man, Enjolras. I don't know if you see that, if you realize how much of his self deprecating jokes come from a place of truth.

He feels himself unworthy. Of you, of friendship. Of anything nice in life. I've been trying to help him, but I don't think I'm enough.

So yes, he bears it. But it kills him to do so.

[idealisme]

[This is something else entirely, which naturally makes it much easier to understand and wrap his mind around. Sadness, while not a problem which often plagues him, is a problem. People can be cheered up, surely. And besides- he has been around the man enough to notice how often he makes himself the butt of his jokes.

His frown shifts from one of mystified incomprehension to thoughtful planning.]

What can be done for him?

[pluspetitpoete]

I'm not sure, not yet. For my part, I'm encouraging him to come help me in the garden more. I've offered to read to him from the new poetry book you gave me -- which is lovely, by the way.

I think if we try to encourage him in everything he does. His art, his speeches -- anything at all. If we let him know that we think he's doing something good, then perhaps he'll believe it more. And then hopefully, hopefully, he'll start doing things he enjoys more.

But he has to remember what he enjoys, and why he likes it. Right now, he seems to be having trouble just facing the day.

[idealisme]

[Hm.]

He seemed pleased to receive the book of art I gave him.

[pluspetitpoete]

Oh good, that's good! Maybe you could sit down with him one say and ask him about the art in it?

Engage him in his interests.

I'm going to try to get him outside more, with the garden. You're welcome to join us, of course.