le stryge
i'm reminded of a conversation i had with a friend of mine. we were walking around the building (if i recall correctly, between classes?), and talking about our interests or something like that. eventually, the topic of architecture came up, and i mentioned how much i loved gargoyles.
"gargoyles are pretty cool." i said, like a total goddamned wonk. is this a normal, human conversation topic? huh? what? pardon? who invited this guy? i still wanted to talk about them, though.
she considered what i said for a moment, and must've responded with a simple, distrait nodding of the head, or maybe a small verbal nicety. i don't exactly remember. when i was younger, somebody ran away from me when i tried to talk to them, so i suppose it's better than that.
because it's me, i went on and on about how it's neat that they prevent water erosion, and she proceeded to ask me—somewhat incredulously, "do you really think gargoyles can do that?"
the only emotion i can really remember feeling at this moment was some sense of confusion and or bewilderment. i was hit with this, i don't know, epiphany that i'm always subject to specifically when i'm put in these types of situations. not everyone knows about hyper-specific topics like that. i guess one of my personal hobbies includes being needlessly abstruse? get over yourself!
"of course they can," i interjected, a little too excited to be appropriate. "what do you think they do?"
"i thought they were just there for decoration or something." she confessed.
"grotesques are decorations. gargoyles are waterspouts." i retorted curtly.
extreme disappointment! woe betide the poor fools i feel i am bound to enlighten with my esotericism, and woe unto me, ensnared amid the nescient throng! just kidding. by this time we were already seated, so i opened my laptop and showed her the wikipedia article. clicking on one of the images, i continued, pointing to each section as i explained.
"the water comes out through there—that's why the necks are so long—look," i said, pointing to the buttress. "you can tell it's not a decorative grotesque based on its placement and how shallow the mouth is," i circled the gaping stone jaw with my finger (i think it must've been some sort of dragon-like creature).
i looked at her, seeking some sort of sign of approval or understanding, "you see?" i took up a somewhat childish tone while saying this. like a little girl trying to get her preoccupied mother's attention.
"yeah, that's interesting." she seemed to be following along well. i wasn't quite as angry as i thought i would be if somebody made that mistake. i might be a pedant, but i'm nice about it! either way, i'm not entirely a dunce, since i can easily tell when people are bored with my antics, unlike how i was when i was a child. i learnt that the hard way, you know. sometimes, people just don't care! and that's okay! nonetheless, i continued, as if in spite of those feelings.
i clicked another image. "this one is my favourite."
as if she was only able to hear my voice, i grew quite ashamed that you could hear me grinning as i spoke. the image i was showing her was le stryge, a grotesque perched on the facade of the notre-dame cathedral—a lethargic looking onlooker of the parisian folk. he's cupping his face and sticking his tongue out a little. isn't that the cutest, quaintest thing?
chimeras such as he often adorned many gothic buildings, so he isn't very special in that regard. his monstrous features have been seen many a time before, but there's a sense of melancholy about him. his pose is very human-like, isn't it? has a mischievous charm to it too, i observe. if i recall correctly, he's between the two statues of adam and eve carved in the walls… if i was smart, i'd be able to pinpoint why exactly he was positioned there, but i'm not. maybe he represents the evil of (our inherit) sin?
as you can probably guess, 2019 was an awful year for me. miraculous how he withstood most of the fire, right? how about that, st. bernard of clairvaux?! gargoyles (retroflexive) can be holy! if only he was alive to see the notre-dame cathedral after it was built. pity. i'll admit back then i didn't care much for the notre-dame cathedral… i've been passively interested in gothic architecture for a while, but gargoyles is what my autism specifically decided to hyperfixate on.
rest assured i did NOT infodump this much info to her. want to know why i didn't have any true friends as a child? this is exactly why. i can control it better now.
conversely, i feel more comfortable being a pedant with my boyfriend, since he knows more than anyone that i'm only pernickety because i care.
another time, a school-day in july, him and i were having a conversation before first period started. i was talking about gargoyles, and since my birthday was coming up, he decided for whatever reason that this was a completely logical thing to say:
"oh, maybe i should get you a gargoyle for your birthday!"
i blinked at him, so frustrated that i simply stood there and stared at him like a statue.
"[bf's name]. were you even—"
he looked at me with a clueless little smile on his face, so i decided to take a proverbial step back and take a few deep breaths. you know that thing you do when you're angry when you try to calm yourself down by pantomiming with your hands? i did that. i did that a lot.
"were you... even remotely listening to what i was talking about just now?" i said, a little more softly.
i grabbed him by his shoulders. "in order to gift me a gargoyle," i began, "you would have to give me a whole building!" i said this with the exact same conduct one would have giving instructions on which wire to cut on a ticking bomb.
"i can do that." he responded simply, with that same cute little smirk on his face, and the same straightforward terseness he seems to adopt when speaking.
"oh my god, i can't with you right now!" i laughed; not because i was so angry as to render me speechless, but because i was just so endeared by him i couldn't find it in myself to be mad at him anymore.
however does he do that? i can never find it in me to truly be angry at him. we've known each other for almost a year, and he has never genuinely pissed me off before. again, how does he do that?