Chapitre 23: [Chapter 23] Why Can't You Memorize It After Hearing It Once?
The children who had seen social gatherings at their own homes just pouted, but those who had grown up in the countryside and had never heard a recitation before looked pained.
Although the academy taught students equally, regardless of their background, there were many areas where prior knowledge from their home environment gave them an advantage.
"Of course, I'll recite it first, so you can focus on the correct posture during recitation. Got it?"
The children replied in unison, like angels.
Sheridan recited the poem with a straight posture. The short pauses between lines were regular, and her expression was excellent in emphasizing important words.
Children who had attended recitation events or parties with professional poets or troubadours guessed that Sheridan was not only good at reciting but also had a deep understanding of literary sensibilities.
After finishing the recitation of the poem, which described the autumn scenery by the lake, Sheridan distributed the poem to the children. The paper was worn in some places, but it was of high quality.
"Dali, Dali, you know the poem, right? I'm jealous of people who are good at this kind of thing," Megara said, praising Idalia kindly.
Idalia blushed and looked away, mumbling a small thank you.
"How can you read something this long without getting tongue-tied?"
Nicolaus lost interest in the paper and started playing with the boy at the same table. Sheridan gave the children some time to appreciate the poem before asking.
"Is there anyone who can recite the poem from memory?"
Of course, the classical poets didn't write their poems to be read from paper. The literature of their time was passed down orally by troubadours. Therefore, memorization was a basic skill for students in the academy's literature curriculum.
The students fell silent. It was impossible to memorize a 14-line poem so quickly. Megara was relaxed because she knew that Sheridan didn't expect perfect memorization, but most of the children were flustered and rolled their eyes.
Just then, someone spoke up in a shrill voice.
"Neris, you can do it, right? You weren't looking at the paper."
The attention of the entire class turned to Neris's table.
Since the semester had started, the children had sat in the same seats for almost every class, so they knew which table Neris sat at and who her classmates were.
It was impolite to force someone to do something they didn't want to do and to publicly challenge their pride. Sheridan's expression turned slightly sour, but she asked Neris gently.
"Neris, would you like to try?"
Diane glared at Lianon, who had just spoken. Lianon, who would have been flustered if she had received such a look normally, gazed at Neris with a cold expression.
To the children, it seemed like Lianon was bullying Neris. Nicolaus muttered in a low voice, not loud enough to catch Sheridan's attention, but audible to the rest of the table.
"She's lost her mind."
Megara smiled sweetly, but Idalia, who saw the smile, felt a shiver run down her spine as she thought that Megara's purple eyes seemed to be smiling coldly, like ice.
Neris, who was the center of attention, lowered her eyes, her expression unreadable.
The children thought she was flustered. Of course, who would have memorized a 14-line poem they had just heard for the first time?
Moreover, she wasn't from a family that often attended recitation events.
Sheridan spoke in an even softer voice after Neris didn't respond for a while.
"Neris, you don't have to do it if you don't want to. But it's a good thing to be brave."
As Neris continued to remain silent, the atmosphere of the class gradually turned against her, as if they thought her silence was an admission of guilt.
The positive curiosity from the beginning of the semester had almost disappeared. It was no wonder, since the beautiful and noble Megara seemed to be "uncomfortable" with Neris.
Good grief, the daughter of a low-ranking knight had the nerve to enter the advanced class and publicly humiliate Megara. If Megara weren't so kind, many children would have already blamed Neris.
Angarad Nain muttered in a dark tone.
"If you can't do it, then don't pretend to be something you're not."
Lianon, who normally ignored Angarad, laughed loudly in agreement. Diane's cheeks turned red with anger.
"Pretending to be something she's not?"
To Diane, Neris hadn't pretended to be anything. What was she pretending to be? Being actually smart? Reading a lot of books? Quietly reading and putting down the poem they were learning today? Was it pretending to be something if she wasn't as stupid as they were?
Just as Diane was about to speak up, Neris made a small gesture that only Diane could see, signaling her to stop. Then, Neris quietly stood up.
Autumn lake, deep in the forest, with geese floating on it...
Delicate words flowed from Neris's small, red lips like silk.
The children's eyes widened at the intricate pattern created by the perfect combination of tone, rhythm, and emotional expression.
Neris's slender wrists, which fit perfectly into the dark brown sleeves, were like autumn fruits, and her neatly arranged hands were elegant, like a classical sculpture.
The burning autumn leaves...
Neris's voice was like a gentle breeze on a autumn day, carrying the words of the poem with a soothing melody. The children were mesmerized by her recitation, their eyes fixed on her as if they were under a spell.
The poem was a beautiful description of the autumn scenery, with vivid imagery and metaphors that painted a picture in the listeners' minds. Neris's voice brought the words to life, making the children feel as if they were standing in the midst of the autumn forest, surrounded by the vibrant colors and sounds of the season.
As Neris finished the poem, the children erupted into applause, their faces filled with wonder and admiration. Sheridan smiled, clearly impressed by Neris's talent.
"Well done, Neris," she said, her voice warm with praise. "You have a true gift for recitation."
Neris bowed her head, a faint smile on her lips. She seemed to be savoring the moment, her eyes shining with a quiet pride.
The other children began to murmur among themselves, their voices filled with excitement and envy. They had never seen anyone recite a poem with such beauty and elegance before.
Diane, who had been watching Neris with a mixture of surprise and admiration, turned to her and whispered, "Neris, you're amazing."
Neris smiled, her eyes sparkling with pleasure. "Thanks, Diane," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.
As the class continued, Neris's recitation became the talk of the hour. The children couldn't stop talking about her talent, and Sheridan couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and satisfaction. She had known that Neris was special, but she had never expected her to shine so brightly in front of the entire class.
The white bark of the birch tree.
The autumn migratory birds spreading their steel wings.
Someone let out a sigh without realizing it. Ancient poetry was supposed to be a passionate song, and what came out of Neris's mouth was undoubtedly that, and it was extremely good.
"...I am a swallow."
After Neris finished speaking, her mouth closed. There was a brief silence, and then Diane started clapping, followed by the others. The applause was not loud enough to scare away birds, but some people were quite enthusiastic. Sheridan was one of them.
"You're amazing, Neris."
Sheridan, who was known for being kind in the social circle, was actually a picky person. If she wasn't sensitive herself, she couldn't satisfy others. But even she couldn't find any flaws in Neris's recitation.
Is this normal? A child from a household without a private tutor reciting a poem they had just seen for the first time with perfect etiquette?
Many children were impressed, but on the other hand, they were also suspicious. Lianon's face turned bright red as she snapped.
"You, you already knew this poem, didn't you? Why did you pretend not to? It's ridiculous!"
Diane glared at Lianon without backing down. But before Lianon could respond, Neris spoke calmly.
"You're the ridiculous one."
Lianon involuntarily avoided Neris's gaze, which was like a special purple eye. She was furious that she had shown such a face in front of others, as a descendant of a noble family.
"I didn't know this poem. How would I know that the teacher's friend wrote it?"
"Don't you know, didn't the teacher show it to you first?"
"Lianon Vertha."
Those words couldn't be ignored. Sheridan's expression turned openly unpleasant.
"Are you saying that I broke the rules for a specific student?"
As a teacher who taught etiquette, Sheridan didn't use the word "accusation," but smart children quickly understood the meaning. Lianon's face turned pale this time. She mumbled and tried to explain.
"No, I didn't mean that..."
"Do you think that if you say it wasn't your intention, people will just accept it? 'Nona' is so comfortable."
Diane pouted and muttered. Neris was still looking at Lianon, and a smile was slowly spreading across her lips.
"If you want, try making up something now. I'll memorize it and recite it. Why can't you memorize it after hearing it once?"
"Don't pretend to be something you're not!"
Neris's words were definitely a show-off, some people thought. Just as everyone's resentment towards Neris was about to take shape, Neris closed her eyes and started reciting again.
Black, white, yellow, red, blue
Hot, cold, soft, rough, smooth
And
On autumn days!
Idalia smiled unknowingly as she heard her favorite poem. The words were simple and familiar, and many high-ranking nobles had learned this poem when they were young.
But what's the point of reciting these four lines here...
Oh, respected governors.
Oh, respected citizens.
Pitiful Tittley sees you.
You, who wear such fine clothes and gather in the square
To enjoy the death of a poet!
"Huh?"
What is this? Idalia knew the poem up to four lines, and it should have ended there. But Neris continued without hesitation. The rhythm sounded like the same poet, but did this content exist?
Other children were also confused like Idalia, but a few who understood the situation looked at Neris with disbelieving eyes.
"Black, white, yellow, red, blue" is a well-known poem, but it's actually a long poem with over a hundred lines. It's an ancient poem by Tittley, who criticized the governor, Jusibe, for his abuse of power.
Sheridan didn't stop Neris. Her recitation didn't falter, and not a single syllable was wrong.
As each line flowed, Lianon's face stiffened.
...Pitiful, pitiful Tittley!
Pitiful, pitiful you!
The last word of the poem ended. Neris asked Lianon with a calm expression, as if she hadn't just recited a long poem.
"Did you think I couldn't memorize 14 lines?"
No one in the class could say that. Lianon collapsed onto her seat, at a loss for words.
Idalia clapped her hands, smiling. Seeing Lianon humiliated was satisfying.
Before anyone noticed that Megara's face had turned cold, Sheridan spoke up.
"You did great, Neris. It's a shame you're not in the 1st-grade literature class. You could have even given a lecture when Louis was busy."
Sheridan's words were like a gentle breeze, but they carried a subtle weight. Neris's talent was undeniable, and her confidence was impressive. The class was silent, with all eyes on Neris, who had just proven her exceptional abilities.
Neris's apology was a clever move, as it showed that she was aware of the potential backlash from her impressive recitation. By acknowledging that she might have taken up too much class time, she was able to diffuse any tension and show that she was considerate of others.
Sheridan's response was warm and reassuring, and the other children seemed to relax in response. The children who were relatively fond of Neris began to whisper excitedly to each other, clearly impressed by her talent.
As Neris sat down, she caught a glimpse of Megara, who was already chatting with Idalia and laughing as if nothing had happened. But Neris was perceptive, and she suspected that Megara might have been the one who had goaded Lianon into trying to humiliate her.
It seemed that Megara's calm and gentle demeanor might be hiding a more complex personality, and Neris was determined to be cautious around her. The dynamics of the class were shifting, and Neris was now more aware of the subtle undercurrents at play.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone