Original subtitles

Full disclosure, when I charted the course of my life and set off for the

distant horizon, this isn't exactly what I had in mind.

Aristotle had this idea that man is teleological.

We're driven by a goal, a tele.

For as long as I could remember, my destination was never in question.

I knew exactly where I was going.

Or so I thought.

But that was before Oxford.

That was before everything changed.

You understand this is a highly coveted program, Carolyn.

One of the defining characteristics of our students is ambition, a sense of a

higher calling.

Tell us, Carolyn, what do you want most in life?

My teacher says the problem is unsolvable.

Well, clearly she doesn't know who she's dealing with.

But what if I can't do it?

I don't know any other kid that read the Iliad at seven.

Six. Theodicy at seven.

You've been given a gift, kiddo.

Knowledge is power.

Not for that.

I can't help reminiscing, knowing I'll

be missing Christmasy in my hometown.

In one moment, my entire world imploded.

The father I knew, the man I trusted with my life, was an elaborate work of

fiction.

While mom prayed the rosary, I moved on from childish things.

There was no mystical intervention, only knowledge.

Can you think of a time when you wanted to click your ruby slippers?

And go home?

The slippers are silver, not ruby.

There's silver in the book, ruby in the movie.

Doesn't matter what color they are. Unless, like the movie, you want to

the obvious political allegory at the heart of the novel.

It's clearly a debate with gold standard, hence the silver slippers.

It's a fable.

Fantasy. About politics in the early 20th century. That's enough. Thank you.

we're talking about the book.

So if you asked me about my higher calling...

What I wanted most in life, I could say with full confidence, a doctorate.

I doubled down.

I was the confident overachiever.

I breathed through high school without breaking a sweat.

As Swinburne said, glory to man in the highest, for man is master of things.

That was not a part of the assigned rating list.

What do you want me to say?

With dad out of the picture and mom back to work full -time, we were barely

scraping by.

So I picked up the slack. And Dr. Pepper.

Anything else, guys? A couple of things come to mind.

College came in the form of a full undergraduate scholarship, so long as I

maintained straight A's in all courses every year for four years.

Cool. In short, Dunn's Holy Sonnet 14 is a classic subversion by the dominant

patriarchy, whether it be the church or the male construction of God, of the

threat posed by maternal power or the feminine spiritus.

Thank you.

Impressive as usual. You presented a thoughtful analysis of the poem.

If I may be so bold, it struck me as a grand adventure and I'm missing the

point.

Sorry, I'm confused.

Don is saying that anything without eternal significance is

ultimately doomed to futility.

The truth is in the paradox.

Everything else is bullshit.

Right. Carol, what I'm saying to you is that your purpose in life is to discern

the real from the bullshit.

Fortis veritas.

The truth is strong.

Of course you know your Latin. You know many things.

But he that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow.

Am I right?

The truth indeed is strength, Carol.

And you will know when you are properly ravished by it.

As our friend Mr. Dunn so eloquently put it.

This is a letter from the University of Oxford.

What does it say?

It says I want a scholarship.

When did you apply for a scholarship?

It was Dr. DeVoe's idea. But I thought it belonged to her. A scholarship

on the basis of outstanding academic merit?

I need to think. A full ride to Oxford?

What is there to think about?

I'm just in shock.

You have every right to be in shock. This is big.

I'm so proud of you. It took me about five seconds to decide.

I was going to Oxford, England for my postgraduate studies. Okay, well let's

start with these papers here.

Society and Mingling Allowance. What does mingling entail? I was on track to

my master's degree in English literature, but it was up to me to

period I wanted to focus on.

I landed on the romantic writers, known for their poetic feeling and longing for

the infant.

The University of Oxford is not one college. It's made up of 38 self

colleges and six private halls.

I was assigned to Tyrion College, which is roughly 400 years older than America.

The school year is divided into three terms, Michaelmas, Hillary, and Trinity.

So I set off into the great unknown, sane and unhaunted,

and driven by a singular desire.

Last stop, Oxford.

Last stop, Oxford.

Oh, sorry.

Bloody hell!

What have you got in there? Bricks?

Books.

Sorry, do you know where Tyrion College is?

Uh, no.

But you throw a rock round here and you'll hit a college.

Right.

Those doors, they were built in the 14th century to keep invaders at bay.

Or at the very least, to trip them up on the way in.

Name?

Carolyn Drake.

Ah, Drake.

Postgrad. English.

I'm impressed.

I'm the porter.

It's my job to know. And it's my pleasure to know.

Staircase five.

Room 7.

Oh!

Welcome to Tyrion.

Staircase 7, room 5. No, staircase 5, room 7.

Bloody hell is Penny.

Sorry,

I don't know who Penny is.

She's the accommodation manager. I've got a faulty showerhead, the most uneven

spray. I'm really sorry to hear that.

Did you just get here now?

Yeah, sorry.

Carolyn. Edward.

Oh, God, sorry.

Would it be possible to have a shower in your room? I really don't think we're

at that point in the relationship.

Hey, well, neighbours.

So I'll be sure to keep you down at night, you know.

Frequent lodges at the Edwardian Palace.

Oh, God. Okay. Yep. I really appreciate that. Thanks so much.

The more the merrier, I say.

Ladies and gentlemen, it is my great pleasure as Vice -Chancellor to admit

as members of the University of Oxford.

I consent to you that you are now listed as members and must observe the

University's statutes insofar as they concern you.

And if I may impart some advice, you have before you a period of

freedom in which to pursue your chosen field of study.

It is a rare and coveted privilege.

So do make the very most of your time here.

Good luck to you all.

First time in the UK?

Yeah.

What gave it away?

The stars in your eyes.

I'm Hannah.

Carolyn. Carol.

You can come a little closer.

I'm not going to bite, love.

Oh, but I might.

Look, okay.

Pardon me.

Thanks, guys.

Amen.

Amen. Amen. Amen.

So, what do you plan to do with a degree in Indian religion?

My hope is to open a charity one day, but in the meantime, I plan to go back

Calcutta. There's a mission there, and they're always looking for help with the

orphanage. What about you?

Well, I suppose I'll be braving the violent waters of academia.

Have your sights set on the high table, do you?

Professor Carolyn?

She has a habit of rearranging things when I'm not looking.

Been doing it for years, the saucy minx.

Who?

Amelia Cantor.

And the delicate equilibrium is restored.

Take a seat.

Take a seat!

Today begins what I hope will be an enlightening study of the women

writers. Good God, is the sun beating down on your face inside the room?

Despite being repressed by a male -dominant society, these writers

that continues to inspire and provoke today.

Well, romance isn't just going to happen if you keep your books shut.

Open, open, open them, my little roses, my thorns.

Frankenstein by Mary Shelley.

Let's begin.

So Rutledge is infamously superstitious.

Bit of a spiritualist, I've heard.

Who is Amelia Cantor, anyway?

She was a student here in the 40s. In the what?

In the 40s.

No, no, no, no. No, no, no, no. No, no, no. We have a strict no -ink policy.

The books must be protected at all costs. If you must use ink, you must use

ink station. I am assuming that since you've been accepted into this hallowed

place of learning, you have managed to master the basic principles of reading

and writing, in which case you will see in black and white the rules which are

perfectly clear. So if you would kindly put the offensive weapon back in its

holster and out of harm's way.

We can all live to write another day.

Yes? Very good.

Thank you.

Very good.

Are you gonna read that all night?

If I have to.

But you're missing out on this great party.

Yeah, it's a real rager.

Drink up, ladies.

What is it?

Buxby's. Looks like you're in. I think it's about time Dr.

Drake loosened up. I second that notion.

Just one drink.

Cheers, ladies.

I guess I do understand, actually, why it's so important, because those books

are priceless.

And what if one of them got damaged? You know, what happens then? And McGrath

was a compromise.

Oh, my God.

Oh, my God. How long have I been talking?

A good while now.

Oh, your friends, they, um, signaled to you before they left.

Uh... Signaled?

Yeah, they went, um... Like that.

Oh, God, I gotta go. Where's my bag?

Uh, your bag is right here.

Whoa! No, no, no. Okay.

It's fine, it's fine. I got it, it's fine. I think we can leave that, that's

fine. It's fine. I should walk you back, right? I... I'm fine.

Are you sure?

I'm going to get my coat.

Okay. Your mom, have you talked to her since you got here?

What do you know about my mom?

Quite a bit, actually. You were going on and on and on and on.

Okay, stupid buck fuzz.

I don't have the international phone plan. You don't have the international

phone plan. Yeah. You have a computer, though. You could probably use that,

right? It's old.

How old?

It's like...

This thick?

That's pretty old.

Yeah, I'm not particularly tech savvy.

Books are my thing.

Yeah, mine too.

I could help you out with your computer if you like.

I don't need your help.

Okay, it's optional.

So, this is you.

I'm not inviting you into my room.

Okay, I guess I'll see you at breakfast.

Who are you anyway?

T .D .H.

T .D. what?

T .D .H.

Tall, dark and handsome.

You left out annoying.

Yes, you seem very annoyed at being lost in his eyes.

Good afternoon.

You're Hannah.

Yes. And Linnea, right? Yeah.

I'm Kent.

So I found this copy of Waverly and a picture of Buck's Fizz. I tried to draw

out as best I could, but most of the pages are still stuck together.

I'm sorry.

Also, I am free tomorrow.

For your computer?

Right. No, that's, uh, I'm fine.

No, that's all right. I got time.

Say, 11?

I need to, I need to check my schedule.

She's free. She would love to.

Okay, great.

I'll see you, Chapel Quad, 11 a .m.

Oh,

and it was nice to see you guys again.

Bye. See ya.

What is that?

His room.

Well, for the love of God, can somebody just please hand me an aspirin?

So, that's how it ended on political science.

So strange to think it's my last year.

What are you reading? You're reading English, right?

Uh, yeah.

Yeah. You want some more coffee?

Um, okay.

Let's see.

Yep, still warm.

Pretty good bridge.

Oh Yeah,

yeah, I just you know, I just I just remembered that I told Linnea I was

do something with her today, and I completely forgot that it was a... Are

sure you're okay?

Yeah, yeah, yeah, and thank you so much for your assistance.

My assistance?

Oh, holy shit.

Oh, my God, I am so sorry.

You're in an awful hurry, Miss Drake.

I'm Regina Knight.

Yes, I mean, I know.

I'm so very happy to have you here at Tyrion.

Perhaps we can talk more at length sometime.

That would be great.

Until then.

Three, two, and time.

Of all the antecedents to the great romantic writers, Sir Walter Scott is

perhaps the most renowned.

I am a descendant of this great literary mind, the fact of which I am most

proud. Let us look at his work, Way of the Last

Minstrel, which arguably...

introduced romanticism, to the world.

Breathe there a man with soul so dead that never to himself has

said, this is my own, my native land.

Would it be wishful thinking to assume that some of you have learnt the

Eighty -three lines of Paradise Lost by Heart.

You are studying the Romantics, are you not?

And you cannot hope to understand them without John Milton.

True, he predates Blake Wordsworth and Coleridge by a hundred years, but his

shadow looms over them.

And it is my distinct privilege to see that you are fully acquainted with him.

I'm sorry.

Mr. Webber.

Of man's first disobedience and the fruit of that forbidden tree whose

taste brought death into the world and all our world.

General. Wait, wait, wait. I thought you were studying political science.

I am studying political science. Milton's elected.

My friend Alex was...

Trying to help me... Get laid?

I think that's the term you're looking for. No, that's actually pretty far...

Godly virgins, a bit of a high standard, but you know what, to each their own. I

just don't see us being friends after all, which is such a shame.

Carolyn!

Hi!

Hi, Mom! Oh, my gosh!

Oh, it's so good to see you.

As you can see, I'm here in my palatial dwelling.

Are you eating enough? You look thin. Why do you look so thin?

Yeah, Mom, I'm fine.

How is Ox... Is it everything you dreamed it would be?

Yeah, it's amazing.

I want to hear everything.

Start from the beginning.

Of course, he intended to rule from Oxford once he'd conquered the rest of

Europe. Mm -hmm.

Potent image, that is.

Imagine the Fuhrer walking down the high street with his devilish retinue.

Yeah, that is a potent image. Imagine that.

The Fuhrer just strolling down that way.

Recorder. Oh, good talk.

Wow.

Surprise, you showed.

Chalk it up to morbid curiosity.

I'll take it.

I just ordered another pint.

Would you like to order one?

Yeah, thanks.

Or you can have mine. I was about to suggest.

I feel like I owe you an explanation.

You don't owe me anything. We barely know each other. No, but you think that

on some mission to bed godly virgins. So if you don't mind, I'd like to clarify.

Okay.

So what's your faith background?

I don't see how that's relevant.

It'll provide context. I thought you were providing the context. I am trying

provide context. You must know my mom's Catholic, or was, or I guess she still

is. You grew up Catholic.

I didn't grow up Catholic. My mom's Catholic if. So I grew up Protestant

the if. So less than since and more Jerry Falwell. Okay.

How many of us do you actually know? Well, I live in the Western Hemisphere,

I would say roughly 50 % of everyone I've ever met. 50 % of Americans

themselves generous, and they're not all volunteering at the Salvation Army. But

you're one of the true believers. That's not how I'd phrase it, but if you mean

am I committed? Committed to virginity. That's one very small aspect of it. And

I wouldn't have brought that up at all if it hadn't been for the fact that you

looked at my phone.

That's a slight invasion of privacy.

But look, I'm willing to overlook that.

How generous of you.

Just because I'm... Sexually inexperienced. Chased.

Gross. It doesn't... mean and that I'm some weird zealot living out this

joyless, pleasureless existence. You have to say it.

And for the record, chastity, it's not at the top of my list of favorite

virtues. Wow. You have a list of favorite virtues? What I'm trying to

there are people out there who are committed to their faith and they're not

horrible to be around. Well, you should definitely get in touch with them and it

sounds like you have a promising lead. Look, Alex only suggested that I meet

because she shares the same faith as me and she... Undefiled?

Has anyone told you that you're incredibly... Fitchy?

Difficult. Well, this has been great.

Oh, come on. You haven't touched your... Super fun.

I'll see you at the next tutorial. Can't wait.

It all seems a bit overwrought and heavy -handed to me.

Like Milton is trying to weasel his way into the lineage of great epic poets.

Ah.

That is a bold theory, Mr. McCoy.

I think it's... quite beautiful but not intended to be taken literally of course

i see it as a metaphor for man -made institutions government organized

and so forth it's a meditation on morality and the finiteness of human

existence after all we have to remember milton's going blind so all this talk of

god is his way of wrestling with his own existential dread

Your thoughts, Mr. Webber?

Um... Look, I'm just in awe of Miss Drake and her ability to offhandedly

dismantle a person's entire worldview.

Oh, I'm sorry, am I being difficult?

You're being assumptive. Oh, do tell.

So you're assuming that Milton's faith is just a psychological construct, that

it's a mental framework to... Better understand reality. The mind is its own

place and in itself can make a heaven of hell and a hell of heaven. And to this

great argument I may assert eternal providence and justify the ways of God

men. He thinks the man doth protest too much.

More tea, anyone?

How did someone who believes in talking snakes get into Oxford?

You realize I'm religious.

Okay, well, you're different.

You smug.

What's the problem with being a virgin anyway?

Nothing.

Unless you are one.

You poor creature.

The point is, we're different and we're still friends.

Who says I want to be his friend? And try as long as I've experienced.

What? Bye, Blake. I'd have some of his more accessible work.

Speaking of devout virgins, I have a sudden urge to go to confession.

Father Michael.

I'd like to visit his parish on the cover of Night.

Lydia! What do you say from you?

Compliments of the season, you miserable reprobate.

Hello, my dear.

Hiya. You look lovely.

Let me pour you a sherry.

Thank you.

Tis the season to be jolly.

What do you know about our guest of honor?

Oh, Dr. Sterling.

Just that he's a highly respected scientist.

I'm sure the conversation will prove to be enlightening for all of us. Cheers.

Cheers. Can I borrow you for a moment?

Of course. Excuse me.

What

are you

doing here?

I was invited.

When? A few days ago.

By the way, you look... Stop.

For the record, I'm not the perfect picture of Chastity. You really have a

with words.

It's more of a well -intentioned attempt than a reality, if I'm being totally

honest. You keep showing up looking like that.

It's a bit strange, isn't it?

Being on the other side of the curtain.

I guess somebody up there likes us.

The

dimension

of time continues to confound us. It slips through our hands.

Dr. Sterling, I'm curious.

Do you believe in a higher consciousness?

Something outside and above the created world?

Oh, for God's sake, Terence.

Precisely, Margot.

Everything that I've witnessed from the natural world seems to operate on a

desire to attain equilibrium.

What rises, falls.

What breezes, thaws. What heats, cools.

If these forces were not in a relationship of attraction and

the axes of the poles would simply cease to spin, the tides would halt,

the sun would cease to rise and set.

Carol? Do you want to add something?

I... I'm not sure I fully understand. Are you suggesting that...

Those things exist in perfect relationship?

Well, perfect enough to promote life, which seems to me to be awfully

The more I discovered the scientific world, the more convinced I became

of the astonishing interconnectedness and brilliancy

of its design.

And yet, death has the final word.

Well, that is a momentary crack in the equilibrium.

But what if we repair the relationship, restore the

equilibrium? Because then what lives continues to live forever.

Precisely. Eternal quest for immortality.

Well, not immortality per se, but healing.

Wholeness.

Even you admit some possibility of life after death, Narco?

I mean, it's probably just a psychological concert, right?

Pass the wine.

You should probably be in bed, Edward.

It's not good for a man to be alone.

Well, I don't think you have a choice tonight.

Yeah.

You know, autonomy does get damn lonely from time to time.

I have such a good idea.

God. We just start from scratch.

Nothing ever happens. Start over. What do you say? For what purpose? For the

purpose of resolving that which was left unresolved. Ah, but perhaps that which

was left unresolved need not be resolved.

But you're forgetting that there's precious little that cannot be solved

hot chocolate.

What do you say?

Where are you going?

Do you want a hot chocolate? Do you want to get a hot chocolate with me? With

you, I'd rather take a cold bath.

You'd rather take a cold bath with me? Okay.

Hilarious. Ha, ha, ha.

So why are you in such a hurry?

Well, if you must know, Provost Knight invited me to dinner.

Provost Knight invited you to dinner?

Wow. I didn't know you guys were so tight. Well, there's a lot you don't

about me.

I know, and it's killing me. Come on.

Uh -huh.

I believe that God made me for a purpose.

But he also made me fast.

And when I run, I feel his pleasure.

Okay, how would you define pleasure?

What? Well, you said you don't live a pleasureless life.

I don't live a pleasureless life. And I'm not talking about sex, because

obviously you wouldn't have much to say on that subject.

Okay, thank you. I'm more talking about the kind of pleasure that Eric Little

felt when he ran.

You know, like it was what he was made to do.

Or the feeling you get when you're struck by the beauty of a poem or the

of a sunset.

Okay. Or I guess in your case, some mind -numbing theological concept. Okay, I

see you're on a roll today. But it did get me thinking.

When have I felt that? Because I have felt it or something like it.

But how do you define it?

Because happiness is too shallow, pleasure is too fleeting.

Okay. Let it be noted that a student of the Romantic Poets is struggling to find

the adequate vocabulary to describe an emotional experience.

I'd never said it was emotional.

Didn't you?

No, no, it's something else, something... deeper.

Okay.

Come with me.

Okay.

I would agree that happiness is too shallow a word. And pleasure is gross,

right? So if I can humbly suggest an alternative...

Surprised by joy.

He stole that from Wordsworth.

Well, then you're in good company.

Well, they ever associated Lewis with his children's literature.

Well, he was a fellow at Magdalen, and he was the chair of Renaissance and

Medieval Studies at Cambridge.

This is the closest thing we have to an autobiography by him.

I'll consider it. You'll consider it? Yeah.

You're not gonna... You were the one who came to me on a quest for pleasure.

Can I help you?

Fine, if you insist.

It wasn't horrible.

The bits about joy were interesting.

The idea that joy is distinct from pleasure, and how sex is often used as a

substitute for joy.

Which, obviously, you wouldn't know anything about that, but I'm sure you'll

learn when you get older.

Do you have any other jokes apart from that one? He has this way of describing

things that defy description.

Like his notion of inconsolable longing.

It's quite beautiful, actually.

Yeah, it is.

This guy probably had some deep, unfulfilled desire.

No question.

There was yearning in those bones.

So, when did Carolyn Drake felt the stab of inconsolable longing?

Um, I don't know.

Okay, I'll go first.

Ten years old, I'm in Kansas for my...

My great -grandmother's funeral.

After the service, the stars are coming out.

And I go upstairs, and I jam open this window, and I sit out there, my legs

dangling outside.

And there's this vast cornfield, and the stalks are blowing in the wind, and

it's like a sea. It's undulating.

And I can hear this very faint music.

And it's just echoing. It's very ghost -like.

I don't know. It just breaks me.

Well, what was the song?

Pour Some Sugar On Me.

You're not wearing your collar.

Sometimes I like to go on the cover.

Do you?

Well, our Lord didn't walk around in priestly vestments after all. Ahem.

Father, get to join me in the blessing of the Irish?

That'd be grand, thank you.

Have I said the wrong thing?

I find casually dropping the name of Christ into the conversation gets an

instant reaction.

Yeah, we're sucked out of the room.

Once upon a time, the faithful invoked his name.

and the air rushed in.

You'll be pleased to know that Caro is reading C .S. Lewis.

Ah, take heed. Some things once read cannot be unread.

Yeah, well, he's proving to be quite the distraction.

I do that too.

Oh, tell me we've ventured out of the treacherous territory of politics and

religions. Come now, Sir Edward. Tell us where you stand on the Son of Man. I

stand on the side of a good pint.

Cheers. Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we die.

Good enough for me.

All well and good, unless tomorrow we rise.

Ah, like zombies.

Like real men, fully and splendidly alive.

Imagine your acquaintance Mr. Lewis puts it.

You lose me at life after death.

Not life after death.

Life abundant.

Now.

And into eternity.

I think we all have very different ideas on what constitutes an abundant life.

Come around later, I'll show you a few of my ideas, love.

A spiritual experience, I'm sure, Edward.

I think so.

To whom that enemy, and thence in heaven called Satan, with bold words, breaking

the horrid silence thus began.

Excellent enunciation.

On to Mr. McCoy.

If you must know, sir, I've fallen behind a bit.

A lot, actually.

You have a very high opinion of yourself, don't you, Mr McCoy?

Well, I... Are you perhaps familiar with Pope, the 18th century English poet?

I know him.

That's lovely, Miss Duncan, but I was talking to Mr McCoy.

Once upon a time, Pope sent a gift to the Prince of Wales at his house in Kew.

A dog.

He wrote a short epigram for the dog's collar. Do you know it?

I'm his highness' dog at Kew. Pray tell me, sir, whose dog are you?

What did Pope mean?

We all bow to something.

Indeed, we are not, after all, masters of our own fate.

We are not all -knowing, autonomous, or self -sufficient.

We all consciously or unconsciously bend the knee to something greater

than ourselves.

Even you, Mr. McCoy.

Miss Drake.

Um... I'm so sorry. I could just use a couple more days. I promise

it won't happen again. Shall we say next Thursday?

Thank you.

Lewis frequently wrote of an inconsolable and infinite longing,

German, the longing in the human heart, for we know not what.

In his words, the books or the music in which we thought the beauty was located

will betray us if we trust them.

It was not in them. It only came through them. And what came through them was

longing. For they are not the thing itself.

They are only the scent of a flower we have not found.

The echo of a tune we have not heard.

News from a country we have never yet visited.

All joy reminds.

I'm realizing there's a drink to believe.

I just, I don't know if I have it in me.

Did you know that Lewis was once a skeptic himself?

He considered his friend J .R .R. Tolkien's faith to be superstitious

One more myth?

and a long history of myths going back to the ancient world.

One night, they were walking this very path when Tolkien said something that

would change the trajectory of Lewis's life.

He told him he was correct.

The story is a myth, but it's a true myth.

The thing all the other old stories were somehow anticipating.

The thing they were...

Pointing to unaware.

Desire behind desire.

This is one of my favourite spots.

I often come here to think and pray.

I can see why.

You're a smart girl, Carol.

You work hard.

Read ravenously, think deeply.

You're everything we look for in a student.

But I have known some brilliant people who have lived lives of quiet

desperation.

The strength you speak of, perhaps you're looking for it in the wrong

So, about the stab of inconsolable longing.

I was eight years old. My father was gone.

And I was confused and angry and books were an escape.

I remember exactly where I was sitting in the corner of my room when I opened

this big volume of poetry right to Shelley's Montblanc.

The everlasting universe of things flows through the mind in all these rapid

waves, now dark, now glittering, now reflecting gloom.

I don't know, I just, I remember being overwhelmed with

beauty and sadness all in the same moment.

Meaning cannot be deciphered in and of itself.

It exists within a system of signs.

Signs which are constantly signifying other signs, but which are themselves

incapable of leading us back to the source of the sign itself.

This is why truth can only ever be relative in nature.

We can't know what we don't know.

We are indeed limited by our own self -referentiality. Then why should we talk

to him?

Who was that?

Come on, don't be shy. Who was it?

Grey cardigan, yes?

Stand up, please.

Would you like to share your thoughts with the rest of the class, Miss?

Drake. Miss Drake, please.

Well, you said that truth can only be relative, but if that's the case, how

I trust you?

Tell me, Miss Drake, are you familiar with the Morrow reflex?

The Morrow reflex is an infantile response to the sensation of falling.

Indeed.

The infant opens its arms, closes them, begins crying.

What does this tell us?

That babies don't like falling.

It tells us that humanity feels the need to cling to something tangible in the

face of distress.

We are, all of us, at the mercy of a combination of instincts, drives,

reflexes.

Flailing infants in a deterministic universe.

That's actually pretty good. I should write that down.

I don't see how our need to cling to something tangible in the face of

proves that nothing is tangible. My dear mistress.

And maybe you're right. Maybe we are limited by our self -referentiality. And

that's the case, then your truth is as valuable as mine.

And it's worthless.

But... Maybe you're wrong.

Maybe we reach for something or desire something because that something is

there.

Beyond us.

The thing all our desires point to.

That's quite enough, Miss Drake. Sit down.

What has gotten into you?

Wow.

Apparently, you've been spending a lot of time at St. Mary's.

How in the world would you know that?

I know all things.

So what do you do in St. Mary's?

I sit and I read.

What, like the plaques?

What?

I... You're religious.

Sure, okay.

And I'm not.

Yeah?

So, by some secret law of the universe, we can't date.

All right, I'm going to need you to tell me more about this secret law of the

universe.

And do you consider this a date?

I got to go.

No, you don't have to go.

Are you... Every time.

I'm sorry. What are you doing?

Nothing.

You just cut in front of me.

Well, I'm keeping you safe from the traffic.

Why?

Well, it's polite.

That's weird.

Look, if a car comes speeding down here, I'm just... You'd what, take the hit

for me? Well, no. What a heroic of you.

I'm just trying to be courteous. Okay, well, your courtesy is a patriarchal act

of subordinating assumption.

Are you serious?

No one speaks like that, not even you. Okay, don't push it, T .D .H.

T .D .H.? What's a T .D .H.? Um, Tall

Disciple of Holiness.

Tall Disciple of Holiness? Really?

It's weird.

Yep, well, thanks for walking me down the sidewalk.

So nice.

T .D .H., I like it.

Please, please, please, please. Professor McTeague?

Professor McTeague? Professor McTeague? Professor McTeague?

Damn it.

I'm so sorry. I got caught in traffic.

Oh, bloody hell.

You all right?

Shit.

Your tutors say that you've fallen behind with your studies, that you seem

distracted.

I've seen students fall in with the wrong crowd, saying they're partying

than studying. No, no, God, no, that's not it.

Well, whatever it is... I encourage you to distance yourself from anything that

diverts you from your original goal.

If you do not meet the necessary criteria, it is possible to have the

scholarship rescinded.

I come in search of milk.

Do you have any milk?

Yeah, I... Yeah, it's in the fridge.

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

I just didn't really feel like walking in the rain. It's absolutely miserable

out there.

Hey, what would you say about a hot chocolate break?

I... I really can't. Why not?

I just have a lot to do, okay? And I need to stay focused.

Okay, but I mean, you also need to take breaks. It's important to take breaks. I

can't afford to take any more breaks.

We'll see how you feel about that tomorrow.

Okay, can you not take a hint?

What? This is why I'm here. To work and earn my doctorate and get on with my

life. Not to have pointless conversations at afternoon tea. Carol, I

have to... Whatever you think this is, I can assure you, you're wrong. I let

myself get momentarily distracted and it was obviously a mistake.

Have you ever considered, even for one moment, that maybe you're not here just

for a doctorate? Listen, you're not hearing what I'm saying. Earlier today,

had to sit and listen if someone explained to me that I was in danger of

my scholarship.

Do you have any idea how hard I've worked for this? I'm sorry. I never

to get in the way of your studies. Oh, okay, because who could deny you the

perfect picture of chivalry, right?

Well, guess what? I don't buy what you're selling. You act like you're

different, but you're not. You'll trick me into trusting you and then make

promises that you can't keep. And what then? What was it all for? I'd like to

avoid that inevitable... Catastrophe if you don't care oh that doesn't have to

be our story I Can't be whatever it is you want me to be

Please leave

In closing, Shelley's mastery of language is a potent reminder that women

uniquely equipped to embody and articulate the depths of emotional

Who's next?

Caro?

Earth to Caro.

You've been in a funk for weeks.

Fine. When was the last time you spoke to Kent?

Hello, darling.

How are we this morning?

So... Have we, um... shared the news?

There is no news.

Oh, come on.

We can't hide the truth from these two, can we?

Linear.

We shagged.

Feels good to say that.

Feels really good.

Just... Sorry.

Caro,

what is going on with you?

Nothing. I'm just... deeply unhappy.

Busy.

You're working yourself sick and I'm worried about you.

I'm worried that... What?

That you'll get everything you want and be perfectly miserable in the end.

Yeah, okay.

Kent has a visitor.

She arrived yesterday from the States.

Supposedly they were introduced through his friend Alex.

Didn't take him long, did it?

Talk to him.

Why? Because you love him.

It's ridiculous.

Is it?

I've got a lot of reading to get in. I'll catch up with you later.

Edward? He actually wasn't that bad. I don't want to know.

I don't know.

Why are you following me? Let go of me!

I've been trying to let go of you. Well, clearly you're not having any trouble.

What are you talking about? You were the one who pulled away from me. A choice

that's looking wiser and wiser by the second. I'm sorry, why are you upset?

said that you wanted to concentrate on your doctorate. I do!

I'm just marveling at how quickly you moved on to greener pastures. That's not

fair. I mean, it's not even accurate. Oh, please do mansplain it to me. Okay,

stop pretending like you don't care. I don't care!

I'm sick and tired of your bullshit.

You wear this brave face, but inside you're just as scared as everybody else.

You have no idea what you're talking about.

You're afraid to let yourself be loved.

Because it's a step into the unknown.

And nothing scares you more in the world than the unknown.

You pour over the words of dead people.

You study them and you analyze them, but you don't let yourself feel those same

things.

I'm sorry your dad abandoned you.

It doesn't mean that I would have.

Don't act like you know anything about my life. You have no idea.

I hate to break it to you, Caro.

You don't have to mark a corner to disappoint me. You do not know what I've

through. No, you're right. I don't. And I know that you have every reason to be

angry. You have every reason to be confused and to push everyone away. But

that what you want?

Is that what you want? Do you want to be alone?

Do you?

You know...

Maybe we reach for something because that something is there.

You. The rules are perfectly clear.

I know, I know the rules.

It's, you know, no ink around the books. I get it. You know, it's protect the

damn books at all costs. You can't even keep your voice down. Keep your voice

down in the library. You know, it's just all about the books, how precious they

are. Keep the ink away from the books and everything's about the books. The

books, the books, the books.

What have you done?

Can I have a word with her alone?

Hands.

Oh, my

dear girl.

I'm going to my cottage in the Cotswolds for the weekend.

I'd be delighted if you joined me.

Unless, of course, you prefer to stay here.

Sammy, are you the welcoming party?

Good boy.

Hi, Sammy.

A bit of

housekeeping.

While you're here, you must call me Regina.

Oh, I don't think... No arguing.

Come. I'll show you to your room.

This was my husband's old study.

My, how he loved this room.

Back in those days, it was a bustling, busy house. This was his refuge.

He passed away four years ago.

Life goes on.

About what happened... Don't. You're my guest and you've nothing to apologise

for. I'll get you some towels.

I saw your light on.

Sorry, I saw it here.

It's all right.

After Henry died, I had my share of restless

nights.

So many questions, so few answers.

You seemed so strong, so settled.

That's where faith comes in, I suppose.

A faith that says it's somehow going to be all right in the end.

Doesn't take away the pain, but it does make it more bearable.

You know, you're not at all what I thought you'd be like.

Disappointed?

No.

All I've ever wanted was to be someone like you.

Someone who's carved her own path.

Who's accomplished and confident and intelligent.

But you're so... unimpressed with myself.

That's Kirk Manor, near where I grew up in Scotland.

beautiful house with a magnificent hedged maze, one of the best in the

though not for the faint of heart.

It was quite common for visitors to lose their way, so the groundskeeper

installed bells at various points throughout, so if you were lost, you

rang the bell and help would come.

As you can imagine, not everyone had the humility to admit they were lost.

There was a man from town who spent two nights out in the cold before the bell

sounded.

Made the front page of the morning paper.

You've worked so hard, Carol, for so long.

But all your striving didn't get you here.

It took someone believing in you.

DeVoe was his name, wasn't it?

this grace all around us all the time.

If we can only have the humility to admit that we need it.

That we can't find the way out on our own.

Hello, Caro.

Are the rumors true?

You joined Father Michael's pious flock.

It's only a matter of time.

What can I do to convince you to join the normal world?

What is normal, Edward?

You don't need religion to find meaning. Look at me.

I create my own meaning.

Yeah? Do you?

Isn't that right, Linnia, darling? Get off.

But don't you ever worry that you'll get to the end of your life and...

I wonder what it was all for.

Of course.

That's why I want to die very old and in my sleep next to this lovely lady, Pat.

Yeah?

To ease into nothingness, not to find out with your dying breath that you've

been tricked all along.

I don't want to know.

See?

Sometimes it's easier to just leave after sharing the cigarette.

I want to show you something.

William Holman Hunt, 1853.

It's quite lovely.

Irrespective of the subject matter.

Oh, look.

It's a mistake.

There's no handle on the door.

The door can only be opened from the inside.

Don't either.

You're making me...

Begging your pardon, Professor McTean. Good God, man, where did you spring

Look, I've been meaning to ask you about your taking Scott to the Antiquary.

Personally, I consider it his most underrated work.

All right, boy, I had no idea you were so keen on Scott.

Here, you must let me show you some of my first editions someday.

Amazing. She keeps putting blue carousel on everything.

Please.

Amelia Cantor.

To whom the arch enemy and fence in heaven called Satan, with bold words

breaking, the horrid silence thus began.

Well done, Mr. McCoy.

You know what?

I think I've changed my mind about Milton.

He's actually quite a good one to give him a second read.

Yes, I think he has a future.

Okay, so I feel like I owe you an explanation.

Me too.

What do you say we resolve that which was left unresolved?

I think that would be such a great idea.

Where's your perfect match?

Turns out she's not my type.

No? No, no.

She was far too much of a pushover.

You seem different.

Well, I washed my hair.

That must be it.

Do you want to see the best view in Oxford?

So, apparently, you were banned from the Bodleian Library.

I don't really want to talk about it.

Really?

Wow.

Oh, my God, you're an Oxford grad.

How did that feel?

Pretty sweet.

I hear Blackwell's inspiring.

The thing is, I actually already have a job offer.

It's for Think Tank, which is basically a consulting firm.

It's like low -level stuff, but it's got room to grow.

In the UK?

In D .C., actually.

How long do you have to decide?

Well I've already accepted.

I leave tonight.

What are we?

What do you want us to be?

My taxi is waiting.

So what happens now?

A question.

Isn't it?

How wrong?

Don't say goodbye.

One more group photo before you leave.

All right, miss.

Where are you supposed to be?

I don't know.

Hop on.

I'll give you a ride.

So, remember how Aristotle said that man is teleological?

Well, here's the thing.

A tele...

isn't just a goal or a destination.

It's the purpose of a thing, what it's designed to do.

For all our striving and philosophizing, knowledge only gets us so far.

Maybe we're made for longing, and we're restless until we're ravished by the

truth.

So what happens now?

Now that the dance is over?

The curtain closed.

That's the question, isn't it?

It's metaphorical, isn't it?

Dunn's using these religious images as a way to comment on the human striving

for ideals.

I think you misunderstood.

The truth is in the paradox.

Are we still on for Paris?

Are you kidding? I wouldn't miss it.

Yes, and then afterwards you'll come straight to India. The kids are

Caro. Are you never ruining me? Well, you better send me some photos now that

have a real phone.

Look at her. She's all grown up.

Really wish you were here, Dr. Dre.

Hey, can I call yours right back?

Okay, bye.

The truth is in the paradox.

Death to life.

Pain to glory.

Seeds sown in winter, birthed forth in spring.

Hope eternal.

World without end.

Just when you think the story's over, there's room for one more surprise.

Keep up, please, keep up. We're approaching the Bodleian Library.

Keep coming.

I think so.

This library is approximately 490 years old. It opened in

1602. Please feel free to take photos of it.