Oddly, Matthew had little to no guilt or paranoia over being head over heels for a guy. His mére had been more the 'sin first, and repent at leisure' type. When he'd left Quebec, and her, there'd been a few visits to an Anglican church, but after a few visits, in an place unfamiliar of the stain glass windows, and bishops he knew, it was forgotten. He still remembered his rosaries, the prayers, and the beautiful insides of the churches, but they had little bearing, or relation to what he felt for Francis. Which, he reminded himself, was based purely on recognition of beauty via an artist's eye.
...that dream last night that involved whipped cream notwithstanding.
The Kirklands were not a religious sort. They visited the C of E when needed, but such stolid propriety did not change their life. They did not call down the wrath of an angry God when misdeeds happened, but merely the opinions of the neighbors. The second instance was knowing from a young age, almost instinctively that Arthur was not interested in girls. Ever since he'd reunited with Al, both of them had spent lots of time on the Kirkland estate through the years. Despite all the jokes of Arthur being burdened with continuing on the noble lineage, any times when girls had been brought to subtly work in that direction, Arthur had treated them with civility, but utter indifference.
Matthew was an observer. He saw how Arthur looked at Alfred, even from a young age. And to him, the outsider, the watcher, this was perfectly normal and part of the sphere of his life. Arthur loved Alfred, Alfred was an idiot, and that was the way of things. So the gay identity crisis never really had a chance to take root with him. Every time someone tried to paint homosexuality as a perversion, an atrocity, he thought of Arthur. And despite his quirks (the mood swings, his violent temper, cynicism and his awful cooking) the creature they portrayed did not match up.
So it was that his denial mostly sprung up from fidelity – or rather, the lack thereof. If his love of Francis was merely based on aesthetics, it meant that heartbreak wasn't looming on the distance.
In the end, those tired words he kept telling himself even he didn't believe.
The Wit Of The Staircase 7/?
*
Oddly, Matthew had little to no guilt or paranoia over being head over heels for a guy. His mére had been more the 'sin first, and repent at leisure' type. When he'd left Quebec, and her, there'd been a few visits to an Anglican church, but after a few visits, in an place unfamiliar of the stain glass windows, and bishops he knew, it was forgotten. He still remembered his rosaries, the prayers, and the beautiful insides of the churches, but they had little bearing, or relation to what he felt for Francis. Which, he reminded himself, was based purely on recognition of beauty via an artist's eye.
...that dream last night that involved whipped cream notwithstanding.
The Kirklands were not a religious sort. They visited the C of E when needed, but such stolid propriety did not change their life. They did not call down the wrath of an angry God when misdeeds happened, but merely the opinions of the neighbors. The second instance was knowing from a young age, almost instinctively that Arthur was not interested in girls. Ever since he'd reunited with Al, both of them had spent lots of time on the Kirkland estate through the years. Despite all the jokes of Arthur being burdened with continuing on the noble lineage, any times when girls had been brought to subtly work in that direction, Arthur had treated them with civility, but utter indifference.
Matthew was an observer. He saw how Arthur looked at Alfred, even from a young age. And to him, the outsider, the watcher, this was perfectly normal and part of the sphere of his life. Arthur loved Alfred, Alfred was an idiot, and that was the way of things. So the gay identity crisis never really had a chance to take root with him. Every time someone tried to paint homosexuality as a perversion, an atrocity, he thought of Arthur. And despite his quirks (the mood swings, his violent temper, cynicism and his awful cooking) the creature they portrayed did not match up.
So it was that his denial mostly sprung up from fidelity – or rather, the lack thereof. If his love of Francis was merely based on aesthetics, it meant that heartbreak wasn't looming on the distance.
In the end, those tired words he kept telling himself even he didn't believe.
*