His name is Tarquin Richard Oliver Radcliffe – and, as Sir Thomas Wyatt quips in “Scarborough,” why a parent would name their son Tarquin and not expect him to be angry?
Quinn is an angry young man who doesn’t know how to deal with his anger.
Or he doesn’t want to.
He wants to be left alone with his music and his love. Unfortunately, life and family get in the way and force him to make decisions that are “all for the best.”
One of my readers complained that Quinn needed to “grow a pair.”
Don’t we all?
Remember when you were at the cusp of adulthood – that purgatory between adolescence and true adulthood, when you had privileges and some rights – but you were still dependent upon your parents and their rules for just about everything? Remember feeling ready to take on the world, and once opening the door, felt compelled to slam it shut and climb back into bed deep under the pillows and blankets?
Compound that with being a musical prodigy and having an overbearing parent holding your future over you in a time when one didn’t question, one obeyed, especially if you were wealthy and there were certain rules that applied to your class, certain traditions. When appearances mattered most, along with standing in the community.
“Why didn’t he just say F-You and walk away?” I was asked.
1. He didn’t have the courage – you’ll find out why later; and
2. I thought it made for a better story.
If Quinn had walked away after that quarrel in the professor’s den, the story would have been about Quinn trying to make a go of it alone, struggling, just another starving artist in New York City looking for break. Quinn and Alice would face the world together – break up, get back together and have a “Breakfast At Tiffany’s” ending. That’s been done. This was and is a story about two people moving away and finding their way through different kinds of adversity towards their own brand of happiness. There are lots of detours and stuff in the road to make it a less than smooth journey. The path back to one another is treacherous at times.
I hinted at the end of “Tallis” what Quinn was about to do.
But does he take those steps? I didn’t say.
This is where the new story comes in.
Quinn is a young man with incredible talent and constantly stifled by it; he’s a figure of ridicule because he doesn’t act, talk or dress like the kids at Berkeley High. His father has been famous for his own talent and it’s rough following in that shadow. Then there’s Mom – tall, willowy, fashion model beautiful and a psychiatrist. Quinn doesn’t want Mom to tell him why he’s feeling the way he does, he just wants a hug once in a while. He’s a poor little rich boy no one understands and he’d be very happy being like everyone else – or would he?
And then there’s Alice.
She’s not exactly popular – okay, she isn’t – but there’s something about her guys tend to like. Maybe it’s the shy smile, the consideration, the killer body. Quinn finds a kindred spirit with her; he finds peace.
From “Scarborough,” Quinn’s thoughts:
I decided to make a go of it, make the best of what certainly had been a raw deal when it came to most of my life. No one but me would think being talented, considered drop-dead handsome, above-average in height with an athlete’s physique, charming, and coming from wealth and privilege would be a raw deal, especially when I considered all Alice had been dealt.
She saved me.
No, Quinn isn’t full of himself. Like so many of us, he doesn’t recognize the gifts we have because in one way or another we’re told we’re not good enough for whatever reason.
“Scarborough” is Quinn’s chance to get things right, say ‘I love you’ when it’s meant to be said, move forward instead of backing down or hiding, just as “Tallis’ Third Tune” was Alice’s turn.
There are many, many Quinns in the world.
E
