The Galliant Input of Amar James [the Brits]

Although we do not speak as often as I would like, one of my great friends from the London Year, Amar, and I are still very much in touch. This boy knows far more about the year abroad than I will ever soberly admit too and although the statement might be a bit exageratted - if not entirely sweeping - I probably would not have survived it without him. And not just because traffic was coming from the opposite direction. But that was an issue too. I think that he may be reading this now so hi Amar! Look at you on an American blog! You're so famous.

Anyway, if you beautiful readers have been keeping tabs on my other creative writing blog you know that I have been struggling to write about the dichotomy of teenagers and class systems in London. The characters in The Prince of Notting Hill are very real people and it is important to me to not finish this story until I have the details and feeling right. Thus, Amar. I wrote him recently to ask about the hierarchy of English Public (our private) schools. All of the people that I met whilst abroad attended one of these schools he described below, and receiving this message from him just reasserts my fascination with their social system. Here it is:

Hey, Rachel the public school hierarchy goes: Eaton ,Harrow (they're both boarding schools) St. Paul's  (boys and girls) then Latymer Upper School and Latymer and Godolphin, City of London schools (b&g) Francis Holland Girls school, the Lycee Francais Charles De Gaulle (where the french ppl like JB went). Generally if you go to Eaton, Harrow or St.Pauls you are expected if at least moderately bright to make into oxbridge (or the equivalent in another country).

With the public school system you get very bright and interesting people and very crappy and vindictive people, at least it isn't boring. So I'm intrigued what's an MFA manuscript and what are you writing? Do tell.
xxxxxx

Does that blow your mind? This is probably why I loved "An Education" so much. Either way, I don't think that I could write this story without having someone report back with details like that from the inside. The story is not where I would like it to be yet, but I think in the end it may not end up being a story but instead a novella. I don't know what it is about British Upper White Privilege that I can't seem to let go but the sociologist in my is positively titillated.  What do you think?