A Beautiful Song to be Sung [d'arnot/tarzan]
Title: A Beautiful Song to be Sung
Rating: G.
Fandom/Pairing: Tarzan. D'Arnot / Tarzan.
Spoilers: Just the first book, Tarzan of fhe Apes or whatever it's called.
Warnings: Potentially side-eyeable references to what makes a person "civilized", hopefully as per the way it's expressed in the outdated novel.
Summary: Tarzan's transformation from an uncivilized ape-man to a clean-cut gentleman holds no metamorphic beauty.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, including Edgar Rice Burroughs' Tarzan series and the Plain White T's "Rhythm of Love." why yes i am still on my isu gpf high
a/n: So I read Tarzan recently for my school's pitiful excuse of a bookclub, and it was superpainful to get through, but there was a startling emphasis on romance. It was actually kind of decent.
For the slashthedrabble prompt "education".
He’s an extraordinary learner, in every way. He’s quick, and attentive, and seems even to have a gift for the more complex mannerisms (which are not nearly difficult enough to be called skills, and yet, not quite so innate as D’Arnot had always assumed) of men.
Really, it is remarkable, to see a man who once looked the part of such a beast - with rippling bronzed muscles and shaggy dark hair; who donned only the vaguest piece of modest dress and dulled-in-comparison golden ornaments; whose speech was limited only to animalistic growls and low-throated grunts - fitting so easily into the role of a gentleman; a civil, socially-appropriate man of men.
D’Arton supposes, between moments of silent marveling, and animated conversation, that it will be a matter of pride for him to be able to take Tarzan to France, and tell all who care to listen (and everyone will; it’s not every day that a man, assumed feral, is transformed into something so entirely different) of how he taught Monsieur Tarzan everything that he knows about etiquette and society. He supposes that it could make him famous, in all the more refined (and thus, easily-amused) circles of personage.
And yet, as Tarzan slips more into place every day - as Tarzan carries on longer conversations with the other men on the ship, and as the expression on his face while he prints out secret letters to some unknown recipient becomes less labored; calmer - D’Arton feels no pride. Instead, he feels only regret, and growing concern.
Tarzan, D’Arton begins to think, was perhaps better off in the wild. Tarzan, like the apes whom he was raised by, is too free to ever possibly be contained by suits of silk and social conformities.
Tarzan is too distinctly special to become just another well-educated gentleman.
Rating: G.
Fandom/Pairing: Tarzan. D'Arnot / Tarzan.
Spoilers: Just the first book, Tarzan of fhe Apes or whatever it's called.
Warnings: Potentially side-eyeable references to what makes a person "civilized", hopefully as per the way it's expressed in the outdated novel.
Summary: Tarzan's transformation from an uncivilized ape-man to a clean-cut gentleman holds no metamorphic beauty.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, including Edgar Rice Burroughs' Tarzan series and the Plain White T's "Rhythm of Love." why yes i am still on my isu gpf high
a/n: So I read Tarzan recently for my school's pitiful excuse of a bookclub, and it was superpainful to get through, but there was a startling emphasis on romance. It was actually kind of decent.
For the slashthedrabble prompt "education".
He’s an extraordinary learner, in every way. He’s quick, and attentive, and seems even to have a gift for the more complex mannerisms (which are not nearly difficult enough to be called skills, and yet, not quite so innate as D’Arnot had always assumed) of men.
Really, it is remarkable, to see a man who once looked the part of such a beast - with rippling bronzed muscles and shaggy dark hair; who donned only the vaguest piece of modest dress and dulled-in-comparison golden ornaments; whose speech was limited only to animalistic growls and low-throated grunts - fitting so easily into the role of a gentleman; a civil, socially-appropriate man of men.
D’Arton supposes, between moments of silent marveling, and animated conversation, that it will be a matter of pride for him to be able to take Tarzan to France, and tell all who care to listen (and everyone will; it’s not every day that a man, assumed feral, is transformed into something so entirely different) of how he taught Monsieur Tarzan everything that he knows about etiquette and society. He supposes that it could make him famous, in all the more refined (and thus, easily-amused) circles of personage.
And yet, as Tarzan slips more into place every day - as Tarzan carries on longer conversations with the other men on the ship, and as the expression on his face while he prints out secret letters to some unknown recipient becomes less labored; calmer - D’Arton feels no pride. Instead, he feels only regret, and growing concern.
Tarzan, D’Arton begins to think, was perhaps better off in the wild. Tarzan, like the apes whom he was raised by, is too free to ever possibly be contained by suits of silk and social conformities.
Tarzan is too distinctly special to become just another well-educated gentleman.