The Lesson

The professor, aged 50 to 60, seems at first to be a stereotype of an elder academic. He is timid and overly polite, stammering anxiously in a tentative voice. But “occasionally, a lewd gleam comes into his eyes and is quickly repressed” (46). Over the course of the play, he gradually shifts to become powerful and aggressive, his voice growing resonant and booming, either transforming or unmasking. Because the play is absurdist, the characters are inconsistent and illogical, meaning that the shift from one extreme temperament to the opposite does not have to make logical sense. He seems harmless at the beginning of the play, but at the end, he kills the student and is revealed to have killed 39 others. What seems to feed his murderous side and bring it out is his own teaching, as Marie warns. The professor has credibility and respect, having lived in the town—in the same house, in fact—for 30 years. When the young pupil arrives, he seems happy to help her, lavishing praise when she offers up basic knowledge. Then, upon teaching arithmetic, he becomes the gatekeeper of the academy, deciding unilaterally that she can only attempt a partial doctorate.