There are two motives for reading a
book: One, that you enjoy it; The
other, that you can boast about it.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxBertrand Russell
Ruthie Hartman ||| Pearl ||| Active Intellect ||| Corseque/Three Grayned Staff
book: One, that you enjoy it; The
other, that you can boast about it.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxBertrand Russell
Ruthie Hartman ||| Pearl ||| Active Intellect ||| Corseque/Three Grayned Staff
YOUNG GIRL
Name: Ruthie Hartman
Color: Pearl/#D99292
Age: 16
Nationality: American/Eastern European Descent
Home/Financial Status: A brick three-story home with a four-car garage. Ivy climbs the side. Sandra believes they're never rich enough.
School: Teufel Town High School
Personality:
In her spare time, Ruthie reads for school and annotates the margins and knocks off math and science, pondering the connections between number sets and tadpole populations and her development into womanhood. If someone accompanied her (and lasted through her prattling), she would explain how she needs more scientific experience to achieve frog-symbolized perfection. Ruthie likes to over-analyze. She worries she misses signs about the future if she doesn't consider details and the grand scheme. After finishing and contemplating her homework, she organizes her nightly reading list and visits the basement library. She sleeps every three days. On her "rest day", she sleeps after school and partially through her first class. Occasionally, she dozes off again and arrives late for her next. Most teachers and students tolerate her tardiness because she participates in class and demonstrates understanding and interest, but she sometimes encounters teachers and students who find her annoying or condescending. These teachers may issue detentions or extra assignments for her absences, but she rarely minds and views them as intellectual opportunities.
She consumes knowledge without elegance or respect--often criticizing instruction. Classmates aren't friends: They're competition or students. She'll help the slow ones, but if someone shows talent or progress, she plummets into despair, criticizing herself and them.
Though she craves friends, pride consumes her. She must be the best. Wiser's better, her parents say, and they know because they're doctors (The wisest caretakers, right? They care for the dying. They better be wise). Though signs of their failing marriage are clear, she pretends she doesn't care and occupies herself with reading instead. However, she often daydreams about holidays or "family days". Pointless, she realizes. Daydreams are false realities. She resumes reading. She wasn't always like this. She once learned the way nature intended: Through experience. At five, she lived by a marsh and ventured into the muck to capture frogs and moths, but Mother and Father sacrificed the swamp for sanitized workplaces and long hours. She knows they meant best, but she feels childhood-deprived. Whenever anyone asks about her parents or childhood, she often shrugs and changes the topic. She tries forgetting the undesirable. If she can't remember it, then it can't hurt.
Ruthie fears failure. If she fails, she wasn't good enough, and she builds relationships, self-esteem, etc. on the contrary. Fear reveals identity crises, and to avoid confronting it, she pretends nothing is wrong. Only late at night does fear creep up. She channels it through knitting. When she must confront her fears, she feels like she faces death, and acts grim, cold and bitter, acknowledging the pain's possibility.
Ruthie isn't interested in any particular career. She wants to attend the best university and earn the best grades. In fact, she worries that a career will curb her appetite for knowledge, and she'll only read books pertaining to the field of her choice. However, though she acknowledges the possibility of limiting her reading range to textbooks and job-related literature (another reason to read everything ASAP), she believes she will find a suitable field. She wouldn't mind becoming a surgeon like her parents--knitting increased her confidence in precise movement--but she wants to remain open.
Although Ruthie will read everything, she particularly enjoys classic literature, historical non-fiction and high fantasy. She loves comparing her reality to the past or someone's imagination. She lists her favorites (mostly classic literature), but can't pick one. Before her wish, she never reread (What a waste of time! You already know what it's about!), but after acquiring the ability to know books by touch, she handles them multiple times for memorization.
When Ruthie reads, distractions vanish. The house could burn and she wouldn't notice. She won't stop reading until the book/journal/article ends because if she leaves something unfinished, it plagues her. Maybe she could have read more. Certainly the instructor or another classmate could have finished it. Similarly, if conversation interests her, she'll concentrate so much, she'll forget to speak. Rarely, she doesn't respond because she fears the speaker will find her stupid. She hates this and will destroy anyone who claims it. She's not above throwing drinks/food or slapping, but never with friends. With them, she changes the topic or escapes to the library. Once she befriends someone, she fears losing them and she keeps tabs on their emotions by constantly apologizing or asking if they're alright, even if they already said so. She secretly worries her parents aren't around because they can't stand her, and she's terrified her classmates feel the same.
That said, she doesn't believe professions of love or compliments. She believes the speaker wants to keep her around because she might prove useful. She's only good for brain candy. These insecurities plague her, and she pushes them out, but when she's tired, they seem incredibly real, and if someone's around, she'll cry and accuse them of not loving her. In these moods, she craves compliments. If she leaves on a bad note, she apologizes later (of course, this doesn't mean her moods won't reoccur), but if she leaves happy/neutral, she pretends nothing happened. Even if friends and family insist they discuss her outburst, Ruthie will refuse and threaten to leave.
With friends or acquaintances or enemies, physical closeness doesn't register. Ruthie accepts it as part of the human condition and concentrates on something else or loses herself in thought. However, if a crush embraces or moves near her, she reddens and prattles.
Closeness scares Ruthie because it renders her vulnerable. She guards herself and dances around painful topics. If someone close hits a sore spot, she becomes defensive or flees. Later, she won't acknowledge the misstep. She worries closeness will never comfort her. She pretends distance protects. Even in love, she avoids controversial topics and addresses subjects tenderly to avoid offense/pain.
Ruthie keeps everything dear under close inspection, and if something's out of place, she frets and brings it up until she's reassured (a million times) that everything's okay. Unfortunately, she can't forget the problems that arise within her friendships/relationships, and during arguments, she'll reference them. During arguments and debates, her pride and desire for victory defeat rationality. She doesn't care about hurting feelings: She wants to win.
She just wants to be right. She believes knowledge equals happiness. Secretly, she fears she errs by studying and reading instead of making friends, but whenever these fears creep up, she convinces herself knowledge is power. She just needs the maturity to use it wisely. Yet, she worries reading's not enough: She needs experience to truly learn.
Appearance:
At 4' 9", Ruthie's head's slightly large in proportion to her frail frame (Her parents joked if the wind blew too hard, she'd face-plant). Her hair falls shoulder-length--dark and curly, wild and tangled (Combing wastes time!). Beneath a heavy, ashen brow, her eyes shine pale and pearl. Her parents give her vibrant clothes to account for her paleness, and she doesn't want to waste their money, so she weaves them into her outfits, though she'd rather wear neutrals. She pairs bright skirts with yellow or brown sweaters or colorful accessories with simple jackets and plain dresses. Despite her clothing's quality or newness, she's always disheveled.
History:
Sandra met Howard in medical school. He operated on the heart and she studied the lungs. After three months of study groups and academic victory, Howard took Sandra to an exquisite beach picnic. He proposed and they married and their parents teared up at the wedding. The guests said, "What a beautiful pair. Brilliant people make brilliant parents. Their kid will be terribly lucky."
Teufel offered Howard and Sandra positions at the local hospital, and assuming Sandra would love the wilderness (she always stayed late at the lab to examine bacteria. She loved wildlife! She even talked about living in a swamp one day!), Howard bought swampland near the town. Sandra didn't believe him until he showed her the cottage settled amid sludge and water. She almost hit him, and he promised when they paid off the mortgage, they'd move to the city. Sandra forgave him because she understood man's stupidity. They always forget to ask, she thought, but she wondered if she married the wrong man. It seemed so rash to purchase swampland without consulting her. She wondered if he'd take on another relationship without consulting her too, but thought she thought too much and baked a chocolate cake. She consumed so much chocolate over the next few weeks, she feared she'd explode and chocolate would flood the swamp. What would the animals think then? she thought.
Her belly swelled and the house filled with pink shoes and blankets, and a crib settled in their bedroom corner. Ruthie filled the space with screams until her parents took her outside. The swampy air and gentle breeze soothed her, and she played in the water, fearing neither snake nor leech nor creepy-crawly until her parents thought: Kindergarten? Howard initially resisted. He believed in the child's right to learn in a wild, untamed environment, paralleling the child's carefree attitude and exploration, but Sandra insisted, "She won't be around others her age. She needs to socialize. It might even be too late. No one lives around here."
They paid off the mortgage and moved to the Teufel. Ruthie loved her giant room, but without the swamp to preoccupy her, her parents always seemed far away. Her home felt large and empty, and her parents owned many books, so she read. At first, she didn't understand and flipped through pages, catching bits of meaning, but eventually, Sandra hired a tutor and the words expressed meaning. Ruthie wondered if reading these books would impress her parents so much they'd spend more time with her. Sometimes, she wished the hospital would vanish, and they would spend time discussing the appendix or apples or aviation. Alas, the hospital stayed, and alone, in the basement, waiting for parents surrounded by death, she studied.
Sometimes, Ruthie reached out for friends (often from study groups or class projects), but when they approached her, the friendships lasted longer because she felt they could possibly/maybe/somewhat like her. However, her paranoia about whether her friends really liked her pushed them away. They didn't see the point in befriending someone who didn't believe they cared--even if she regularly conversed with and cared about them. After her friends broke things off, Ruthie entered short depressions, but then acted as if nothing happened, convincing herself to be more guarded next time (even if she fell for friendship just as easily as before). If she learned anything from waning friendships, she learned to recover faster.
Every year, Ruthie desired more interaction, but friends seemed farther away. She'd read more! She'd impress classmates into friendship! She test-drove her methods on her parents, reassuring them that perhaps they didn't fail. Their daughter seemed knowledgeable, and even though they never saw her friends, she at least preoccupied herself. They were grateful she didn't become a bum.
Sandra bullied Howard. They needed to pay off the mortgage on the new house and they hadn't sold the swampland yet. She thought Howard was stupid for buying it at all, and she announced it, so to avoid her, Howard worked more. She retaliated by picking up more hours too. She didn't want/need him. She was a competent, independent woman.
Ruthie never tried to improve her parents' relationship because 1) They were always at work and 2) She avoids unhappy things close to home. Unusually, she doesn't criticize her parents' communication or relationship. If they were her friends, she would provide insight and advice, but because she feels her parents are so close they might permanently hurt her (by blaming her, of course--she would never forgive herself) she refuses to involve herself in their relationship at all.
Toward middle school's end, Ruthie only discussed her reading. Her parents cajoled for details about her day, but embarrassed by lacking social success, she concentrated on schoolwork instead. Her parents realized their mistake: Too absent/Not socialized, and wondered if they'd be better off in the swamp. Whenever Ruthie discussed herself or her life, she did so in tears. Howard proposed therapy, but Sandra objected: Their daughter was a little emotional. So what? Lately everyone seemed emotional. She didn't want to accept her daughter's social failure. She raised Ruthie too, and she never failed anything. Howard wondered about the smiling, laughing med-student he married, but said nothing. He knew how to employ silence. He wondered if Ruthie could learn something from him.
Sometimes when Ruthie feels horrible--can't leave bed, underwhelmed by life--she knits. For the past eleven years, she knit a sweater. It consumes half her bed and feels soft in some places and scratchy in others. Sandra taught her how to knit when they left the swamp because she wanted Ruthie to learn something that would impress her classmates, but she worries that lesson ruined her daughter, resurfacing as reading.
Once, the school mathlete enamored Ruthie. His eyes lit up whenever he solved differential equations, and his hair fell silky and dark, and she thought, I could really be with this guy. She gave him prized, vintage comics from her parents secret collection and Romantic literature (*nudge nudge*). She walked with him between classes. She even baked him cookies and danced with him at a spring formal (No one else would! Were they crazy? What a babe!). Alas! It wasn't meant to be! When she professed her admiration, he confessed he liked her as a friend. Her heart sunk. She demanded answers: Was she lazy? Stupid? Ugly? He said, no, definitely not and she couldn't help her head. He just found her clingy and insecure. Also, her cookies made him vomit.
She cried, knit her sweater and never spoke to him again.
Ruthie confides in her freshman English instructor, Mr. Bonaparte, because he bought cookies for her birthday and assembled her a weekly reading list and he seasonally gave her books. They discussed them during lunch or assemblies. She once fancied him, but glimpsed his wedding band and felt embarrassed, so for a week, she ditched his class until he confronted her. She claimed her homework consumed time, and he claimed she completely changed his attitude about teaching--students could understand and appreciate the material. He believed she would succeed academically, socially, etc. if she remained open to experience. Flattery restored her ego, though she questioned learning by experience (Experience is scary! What if you feel stupid/hurt? A book can't do that!).
Welcome to the Hartman household. You can find Ruthie in the library and her parents at work unless they're asleep. Then, Howard's in the attic and Sandra's in the bedroom.
Family:
Sandra Hartman
Mother / Surgeon / 47
Sandra practices lung surgery at the local hospital. She works long hours to compete with her husband, Howard. She recognizes her daughter's insecurities, but doesn't discuss them unless Ruthie brings them up. She's too prideful to feel concerned about her marriage and worries about payments instead. Sandra bought a silver minivan for Ruthie's trips to practices and parties, but her daughter's self-imposed isolation ruined her investment.
Howard Hartman
Father / Surgeon / 48
Howard considers himself the cause of his marriage's failure (He bought the swampland without his wife's permission, after all), but he still doesn't feel like he deserves all the blame. His wife ignores their daughter unless she approaches her with problems. Howard attempts communication with Ruthie--especially about subjects other than school or reading. He practices heart surgery at the local hospital and sleeps in the attic. He wishes he could improve his marriage and relationship with his daughter.
