Love Days
After a hasty breakfast, of which she remembered nothing but that she had eaten it, Susanna found herself on the street car bound for college. She had indeed been dimly aware of the states through which she had passed up.
Susanna, an 18-year-old college student, begins her day with a hasty breakfast she barely remembers. She feels the cold of waking up early and the warmth of her bath, noting that her hair looks good and she appears presentable in her mirror. However, her most intense moments of self-awareness occur in front of a specific mirror in her dressing room. This mirror, partially lit by light from the bedroom, transforms her perception of herself, making her appear strikingly beautiful in a dramatic, shadowy style reminiscent of a chiaroscuro photograph—a term referring to a technique in art where strong contrasts between light and dark create a three-dimensional effect. This moment of clarity contrasts with her usual uncertainty about her appearance.
Susanna struggles with a fundamental question: How does she actually look? She admits she has little idea of her true appearance despite her interest in how others perceive her. This uncertainty is highlighted by a past conversation with Mr. Whitney, a 33-year-old man she danced with. When she remarked, 'Oh, I know that my face isn’t regular; it’s only interesting,' Mr. Whitney disagreed, calling her features regular and her face charming, though not yet unusually interesting. This exchange unsettles her, making her question whether she deserved his blunt honesty. She reflects on the social norms around personal conversations, comparing her tendency to be direct to a child playing with fire—both thrilling and potentially painful. She wonders if the discomfort of such interactions is worth the knowledge gained.
The mirror in her dressing room shows Susanna two conflicting versions of herself. From the front, she sees an oval face with pale ivory skin, copper hair, serious grey eyes, straight brows, full lips, and a straight nose—features she describes as regular and classical, resembling a passport photo. From the side, her face changes dramatically: her nose appears uplifted, her lips dimpled, and her eyes seem framed by lashes, giving her a frivolous air. She finds it impossible to reconcile these two versions, concluding that she must accept her full-face appearance and ignore the side view, as it requires arranging mirrors in a specific way—a process she lacks time for. Ultimately, she decides her looks are sufficient for practical purposes, though she remains open to the possibility of being exceptionally beautiful.
Susanna grapples with the idea of being personal in her interactions, seeing it as a way to gain knowledge. She questions whether it is her duty to be direct with others, even if it leads to embarrassment or discomfort. This reflects her preference for the word 'may' over 'must', as 'may' suggests infinite possibilities and keeps paths open for inquiry, knowledge, and growth. She associates this idea with philosophers John Dewey and René Descartes, who emphasized the importance of doubt and inquiry in intellectual development. For Susanna, embracing uncertainty allows her to envision endless opportunities for her own spiritual and intellectual growth.
On her way to college, Susanna rides a crowded streetcar where she critically observes her fellow passengers. She notices that no one offers her a seat, despite the presence of young, able-bodied men who could easily do so. She assumes they mistake her for a schoolgirl, feeling both misunderstood and undervalued. This leads her to view them with a sarcastic sneer, though she also feels a romanticized sense of being different from the crowd. She categorizes the passengers into types: worried women, apathetic stout individuals, elderly men engrossed in newspapers, and middle-aged men lost in their professional thoughts. Even the young passengers seem disengaged, leading her to conclude that they are not fully concrete individuals but exist in an abstract state, lacking distinct thoughts or emotions in that moment.
Susanna analyzes the passengers using a *Platonically flavoured* perspective, referring to Plato’s theory of *Forms* or *Ideas*, where abstract concepts represent the most perfect reality. She wonders how philosophers like Dr. Miller (her Philosophy 4 instructor) or Dr. Duke would react to her observations. Her analysis pleases her, as it frames the passengers as potential individuals rather than fully realized ones. However, her reflection is abruptly interrupted when she locks eyes with a stout young man on the streetcar. Instead of returning her smile, he remains unresponsive, which shocks and offends her. This interaction shatters her sense of detachment, and she suddenly becomes hyper-aware of the streetcar’s sensory overload: the sounds of coughs, yawns, and the clanging bell, the smells of perfumes and dampness, and the physical closeness of the crowded space. The experience overwhelms her, leaving her unable to think until she exits the car.
