Monday, May 12, 2025
Blog Page 14

Any Blue Will Do

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This year, with the inaugural Blackwell’s Short Story Prize, Cherwell aimed to reconnect with its roots as a literary magazine in the 1920s, when our undergraduate contributors (including Evelyn Waugh, Graham Greene, and W.H. Auden) showcased the best of Oxford’s creative talent. We received nearly 30 entries, and they were all of an exceptionally high standard. The judge Dr Clare Morgan, Course Director of the MSt Creative Writing at Oxford, offered her congratulations to the shortlisted entries, including this one.

301:301

My opponent stands behind the line, darts in hand. What started as a bustling bar, a cacophony of cheers, has fallen into pin drop silence. Sixteen competitors became two. 

Three darts fly in quick succession.

15, 10, 17

259:301

I step up, not making eye contact with my competitor. I’m not playing her; I’m playing the board.  Staring straight at the 20, I aim and shoot.

5

I attempt to steady my hand. I throw again.

5

Damn it.

12

259:279

I step back to my teammates. “You got this.” Whispers Jen. I return a half-baked smile. Her words normally reassure me, but here they give no relief. As much as she tries, she can never understand. This is my last chance.

8, 7, double 8

228:279

My turn again. My heart is racing. I need this win. 

Treble 7

The pounding in my chest lessens. My opening darts were just a fluke. If I can hit a treble 7, I can hit a treble 19, and if I can hit a treble 19, then treble 20 is within my reach. 

19

The dart lodges itself up against the wire. It’s close to the triple, too close. I need to shift my aim down and right.

3

228:239

Winners don’t throw 3’s. The match is basically over, may as well go home now.

I’ve been watching this girl play and she is nothing if not consistent. My darts style is a little more… sporadic. At my second session with the team Jen called me a “wildcard” and I burst out laughing. Back then, the title felt completely antithetical to how I saw myself. Now I have to embrace it.

Because I need this win.

11, treble 8, 7

186:239

She’s playing it safe and running away with it. If she’s aiming for 16 then her misses are 8’s and 7’s. We’ve all seen how badly my gambits are paying off. My 20’s become 5’s and my 19’s are 3s. It’s a poor showing for a final. I aim again.

12

When I used to run my mind would go blank during competitions. I’d disappear into myself until I crossed the finish line. In darts, my mind wanders. I’ve learnt to allow the tangents to occupy my attention. If I overanalyse my throws it puts me off even more.

I used to pretend the dartboard was Marcus’s face. His perfect, sculpted, posh-boy central London face. Although I’m less over the break-up than I pretend to be, my need to imagine repeatedly firing darts into him has lessened. Until today, when I saw a photo of him for the first time in months.

Treble 5

She was one of his friends from sixth form. Long dark straight hair and supermodel legs. I never thought much about her until I saw those legs wrapped around him in that scantily clad beach pic that graced my home page.

“It’s basically pornographic” said Jen when I showed it to her “Don’t these people’s parents follow them?” 

Double 20

186:172

I’m back in the game. I can hear Jen’s relief as she grabs my arm and squeezes tightly. Other than myself, this win would mean the most to her. Varsity Darts is her baby. She created this club in her second year and has dedicated most of her time to it since. She wasn’t even doing it for a Blue, she just loves the game. It was Ben, with a friend at Cambridge, who suggested the competition. From then on she was a woman possessed to get Darts Society to Blue status. It always makes me giggle to imagine her standing in front of a bench of actual athletes, reciting her impassioned speech. Their answer – “sure, whatever.” 

I feel guilty in a way, she’s been working at this for ages and I only joined at the start of Michaelmas under duress from my mother. Before I went back to Oxford she sat me down and told me the time for moping was over. She pulled out her laptop and showed me her picks for clubs I should join to “Get back out there.”

I chose darts to appease her, largely because it was the only one of her suggestions you could drink at without looking like an alcoholic. I used to play with my grandad on family holidays so I knew I was decent. I never expected to end up here.

11, Double 14, 10

151: 172

10’s an odd choice, can’t be deliberate. Have I shaken her? I got tops last round. If I can get a treble 20 the game is mine.

My summer after finals was more subdued than my coursemates. Kicking off the long vac by getting dumped wasn’t particularly pleasant. I got none of my top choices for my fourth-year project and the physio said my ankle still couldn’t take enough weight to start running again. My finals results arrived unceremoniously, a low 2:1 put the final nail in my coffin.

1

There’s playing risky and then there’s playing badly. I don’t yet know what sort of player I am.

I don’t even know who I am.

1

There’s an audible inhale from the Oxford side of the bar. 

My mum has a photo on her fridge of me on matriculation day. It’s not an official one, my best mate Sarah took it on her phone. I looked at that photo a lot this summer, wondering what first-year me would think of my life now. She’d be baffled as to why I wasn’t running, embarrassed that I wasn’t anywhere near the top of my class, and confused as to where my friends had gone.

20

151:150

Ex-best mate is probably a more accurate term for Sarah. We haven’t spoken in two years. I’m aware she graduated last summer. I should have sent her a text but I feared the inevitable “I told you so” about Marcus.

My opponent throws her darts. Before I can comprehend what’s happened, I hear cheering from the Cambridge team.

16, 16, Double 19

81:151

Sarah dropped the criticism after she realised Marcus wasn’t going anywhere. She was always judgemental, yet principled too. She lived within her means and never forgot where she came from. When I told her I was going on the Ski trip, she laughed.

Double 11

“But you’ve never skied a day in your life. Skiing isn’t for people like us – it’s natural selection for the rich.” She smiled like she was joking, but I knew she believed it.

14

After I fell skiing, after I broke my ankle, after I had surgery, after months of pain, after I had to give up running, I phased her out. I could feel the self-righteousness hiding behind her concern. Marcus told me he never liked her anyway, and that was that. 

Triple 8

81:90

I miss Sarah, I miss Marcus too sometimes, but the thing I miss most is running. The serenity of it, the peace that I could only find by myself. I think I would have gotten over losing it much easier if it was just a hobby but I was good. I was so good. I was on track for a Blue – a near miss at varsity in first year but I was confident about second year, everyone was.

Triple 7, 19, Double 18

35:90

It’s all over, she can win on her next throw. For me to have any chance I need to get Triple 20.

12

After I aced my prelims Marcus joked. “Look at you – on track for the triple threat.”

A first, a blue, and a spouse. They say everyone leaves Oxford with at least one. I could have all three. I was going to have all three. 

18

Then I broke my ankle. My degree got difficult and the work piled up. To top it all off, Marcus broke up with me because our “trajectories didn’t align.”

So here I am in the last chance saloon, also known as the Brasenose college bar.

18

35:54

She’s going to win – she knows it too.

15

Your last dart must hit a double. If she hits the double 10 it’s over.

10

I can feel the tears swimming in my eyes. This was my last chance. My last chance at being something, at leaving this god-forsaken city with something to be proud of.

5

5:54

She blew it. I have three darts. I can salvage a win.

I need this win.

14

I aimed for 14 without really thinking. I’ve got tops before and I can do it again. If I was being logical I would have gone for double 11, but I have no logic left, only hope.

I need this win.

Miss

It lands just above where it needs to be. 

One dart. I aim again

I need this win.

Double 20

5:0

And the crowd erupts.

Winner: “The Ghosts She Felt Acutely” by Polina Kim

Runner-up: “Letter from the Orient” by Dara Mohd

Shortlisted entries:

Splat!

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This year, with the inaugural Blackwell’s Short Story Prize, Cherwell aimed to reconnect with its roots as a literary magazine in the 1920s, when our undergraduate contributors (including Evelyn Waugh, Graham Greene, and W.H. Auden) showcased the best of Oxford’s creative talent. We received nearly 30 entries, and they were all of an exceptionally high standard. The judge Dr Clare Morgan, Course Director of the MSt Creative Writing at Oxford, offered her congratulations to the shortlisted entries, including this one.

At the base of East Gate, on the High, rests a broken man. He is illiterate, but quite the talker. I, however, am a talented writer, if I do say so myself. Oxford educated, although I wasn’t always the most studious. But I’m as qualified as any to put pen to paper, and he asked me to tell his story. Destroyed as he is, brain totally scrambled, he can barely scrape his thoughts into order, but he told me his tale in splishes and splashes. Allons-y!

The poor man is in tremendous pain, unlike anything you or I could comprehend. It’s hot, strangely metallic, and so agonising that he thinks nothing could ever be worse. And nothing is, until the next moment, and the next, and the next.

He feels cold, too, frozen from deep within his gooey insides. It’s a wonder he remains in the liquid state in the winter months. A dribble of remaining spirit must be enough to keep him animate, and warm. 

Above all, though, he’s lonely. He has no family, no friends. At first, locals came and tried to squeeze him back together; they scraped his guts back inside of him and bundled him up in Sellotape until he was fully mummified and practically spherical. Once term started, student activist types had all sorts of theories of how to fix him, but their theories lacked practicality, of course. Dreaming spires, sure, but not one person in this majestic city could put a man back together. After all sorts of city planning debates, it was decided he would remain in place.

Remembering the worst of it can’t help him now, so he stares, unblinkingly, into the sky (which you can never quite have looked at enough). The High has plenty to distract him: twinkling bike bells, the inane chatter of young lovers, the smell of food, the clamour of Covered Market sellers. And people avoid stepping on him, for the most part. He cherishes the promise of summer, some warmth to thaw the frost on his shell. Generally, adults avoid him (out of sight, out of mind), students sometimes say hello, but the little ones from the local school come and peer at him, and engage in small talk.

“It was nice,” he gurgled to me one morning.

“Nice?” I asked.

“It was nice,” he clarified, “Up on the wall.” He could see the whole city in its glory, sprawling and crawling wider by the minute. The evening light was bright in his eyes, but turned the Oxford stone golden, and gave the Church spire a long, spindly shadow which looked almost like a man, he thought. He looked down on the tiny townsfolk, going about their days like robots, with a sense that he ruled the world, perched above it all as he was.

And they really did try to help, when he fell. When he tumbled all the way from the top of the city wall to its bottom, where he went, for lack of a better word, SPLAT!

Humpty Dumpty can’t really move, and so he remains, still, after all this time, at the base of the high stone wall, which stands as an unpleasant reminder of his hubris (and a useful protective barrier on windy days). He doesn’t feel abandoned exactly, but he does feel forgotten; on top of the wall, he had dreams, and the fall woke him up in the middle of a really good one.

I don’t enjoy telling you all of this, but Old Humpty asked me to. I went to visit him for a final time a few weeks ago. I was his first visitor in months, he said, although he admitted that he loses track of time sometimes. He’s not much, anymore: little of the yolk and white remain, and the stone beneath him is discoloured, a mark of where he’s begun to decompose. But he’s still recognisably him.

An eggshell, almost pure calcium carbonate, will take a long time to biodegrade. When he asked me, “How long do I have?” I told him I did not know. I wanted to console him, but I didn’t know what to say. I’ve never liked talking to the dying.

Over the course of my shamefully infrequent visits, Humpty shared with me his past and his present, which I have told to you in its entirety. His future, I knew, was up to me.

I went to three Colleges before one took the bait, and agreed to fund some sort of memorial for the rotting man on the High. The Master suggested a statue could be placed by his body, I whiningly pushed for Radcliffe Square, but Humpty, wheezing in my ear, asked us to place his likeness on top of the wall, where he sat on that damning day.

And so, a bronze egg sits on a City wall, directly above the decaying man it was built for. The locals have come up with a rhyme about him, inspired by the imposing figure which shines orange at sunset.

I don’t know it exactly – something about the wall, the fall, the horses and men, back together again. It’s just a brief little ditty, quite light-hearted, for the children. It makes Humpty happy, so I approve, of course. Perhaps you’ve heard it.

Winner: “The Ghosts She Felt Acutely” by Polina Kim

Runner-up: “Letter from the Orient” by Dara Mohd

Shortlisted entries:

Mini-crossword: HT25 Week 7

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Made by Cherwell Editors with the free crossword puzzle creator from Amuse Labs

Previous mini-crosswords:

For more crosswords and other puzzles, pick up a Cherwell print issue from your JCR/Plodge!

Reflections on the perils of overthinking

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There is a lot to be said for blind positivity. On a good day, I’m a manifester, a big believer in my ability to speak things into existence. During my English A-Level, I had complete confidence that the crystals hidden in my bra would provide enough luck to snag me an A*. Today, I put great faith in words, relying on the same ‘I can do it’ that gets Olympic athletes across the finish line, to help me through difficult situations. I’m also no stranger to stationery covered in positive affirmations. Blind positivity can be harmless and even fun, but to be honest?

I’m beginning to think it doesn’t work.

It wasn’t until the beginning of Hilary that I recognised its limitations. Once again, I found myself , lying on my friend’s bedroom floor in the midst of an essay crisis, and  convinced that everyone secretly disliked me. I was annoying, I looked like an ogre in a cardigan, I was 100% failing my degree, and I’d never get a job. A flat ‘you can do it!’ was the last thing I wanted to hear. Taking deep breaths or turning to rose quartz for help also didn’t inspire me.  In fact, with every proposed solution, I felt myself getting closer and closer to tears. All I wanted to do was look at the disco ball hanging from my friend’s ceiling and melt into the carpet.  

Without looking up from her laptop, she agreed with me. Yes, my outfit was horrible. Yes, I was destined for perpetual unemployment. Yes, she hated me. Yes, it was time for me to rusticate, preferably forever. Yes, I was really, really, ugly. Yes, I’d never finish my essay. Yes, I should start looking on Skyscanner for one-way flights to New Zealand.  By the time she was finished, I was completely paralysed with laughter. There’s nothing like hearing your thoughts out of context to make you realise how ridiculous overthinking is. What she’d said reminded me of the ‘disappointing affirmations’ on Instagram: friendly reminders that ‘you still haven’t met all of the people you’re going to massively disappoint’ and to ‘have a panic attack, you deserve it’. Somehow, these uninspiring quotes in Times New Roman with idyllic backgrounds of waterfalls and clouds are reassuringly popular. They destabilise your negative thoughts – in fact, hearing them repeated back to you like this could be one of the most effective ways to stop ‘deeping it’. Frankly, this is because in the mouth of another person, or typed out on a page, your inner thoughts likely sound insane, not to mention cruel. This breaks the cycle of introspection by forcing you to talk to someone, and therefore get a bit of perspective.

This is not to say that positivity doesn’t work, and there’s certainly a bit of a fine line between poking fun at yourself and actively reinforcing your harmful narratives. But when all else fails, although getting your friends to bully you for a bit might not be as ‘wellness aesthetic’ as repeating a set of mindless platitudes in the mirror, I’m willing to bet that it’s far more effective.  

The fourth year: Oxford after your year abroad

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It’s 9pm on a Monday night and here I am, nestled among a heap of pillows, watching Gilmore Girls for the fifth time, and making my way through a tube of Pringles. Rather than suffering from the legendary fifth week blues, I tend to struggle my way through sixth week, a chunk of awkward days floating in the abyss between the start and end of term, an unwanted reward for having survived fifth week.

It’s been a bright, crisp day, and as I walked through University Parks this morning, there was a distinct ring of spring in the air. I removed my headphones to better enjoy the twittering of the birds and the rustle of the wind in the trees. The grass was peppered with snowdrops and lilac crocuses, and the river gently swelled against the banks. And, as I’ve found so often recently, a beautiful day in Oxford made me feel sentimental; the loveliness of this historic city is never more apparent than when its golden stone is glowing in the sunshine, and the dreaming spires are silhouetted against a carpet of light blue.

I’m now in my fourth year, and as such, must grapple with the reality of my Oxford days drawing to a close. Granted, this is something that every student must contend with, and I watched on as most of my friends bade a fond farewell to this city where our friendships began when they graduated last summer. Yet there is something about the fourth year that I’m certain makes the final year even more strange: a sense of something already lost, of living in a moment that has already passed.

Speaking of moments passed, these nostalgic moods so often make me think about the year I recently spent living abroad in Spain. My camera roll from February of last year stands in stark contrast with the three or four photos I’ve taken this month: a bowl of pasta I was particularly proud of, snowdrops in the park, and a blurry capture of a library book reference on SOLO. Tonight, as Lorelai Gilmore chatters on in the background, I find myself scrolling back to last year, looking through seemingly endless pictures of bright sunny Spanish streets, beers sparkling in the Plaza Mayor, and big groups of international students smiling in the Portuguese countryside.

I didn’t take photos of the mornings when I was struggling out of bed for my 9am class on Golden Age literature, nor of the lunchtimes I spent in the canteen, failing to form sentences in Spanish. There’s no evidence of the homesickness I felt as I saw photos of my friends attending formal dinners and dressing up for bops, or the way that I missed the patchwork English countryside in early spring. Instead, the photos that I did take form a seemingly perfect grid of adventure and delight, making me long for an experience that I will never be able to relive. Now that I look back, listening to the section of my playlist which corresponds with those foreign months, I forgive the difficulties and am grateful for all that my Spanish adventure offered me – the lows, just as much as the highs.

When I miss Salamanca, it is not only the golden streets, the stunning plaza and the beautiful cathedral that come to mind: suddenly I am hearing the chatter of the Rúa Mayor, gazing at pastries piled high in the old artisan bakery I pass on the way to class in the morning, and being hit by the cool air of Mercadona. I can smell the coffee and hear the reggaeton blasting from the speakers of the clubs which stayed open through the night and into the morning; I can picture twenty-somethings singing karaoke in the Irish Theatre and drinking cherry red tinto de verano. I imagine all the conversations I had, all the people I met, and all the friendships that began in those bars and classrooms.

And funnily enough, when I miss Salamanca, I begin to miss Oxford: this place which has given me some of the best years of my life and introduced me to the friends I will always cherish. A city of unwritten essays and impossible translations, seemingly unending walks through the Lamb and Flag passageway to get to Wellington Square. Thursday nights at the Turf and quizzes in the JCR on Mondays. The top of staircase 25. Duets from the noisy neighbour and his keyboard. The quiet of the EFL at six thirty.

A place which, this time next year, will also be waiting for me as a set of smiling photos in my camera roll.

Samantha Shannon: ‘My mantra with the series is ‘Don’t be afraid to take big risks’ and so far, I’ve stuck to it’

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Samantha Shannon is a New York Times and Sunday Times bestselling author, and an alumnus of St Anne’s College, Oxford. She is the author of two ongoing fantasy series: The Roots of Chaos, and The Bone Season, in which her latest novel, The Dark Mirror, is the fifth novel. Her debut novel, The Bone Season (2013), was first published just after she finished studying at Oxford, at just 21 years old, and celebrated the ten year anniversary of this novel in 2023.

The novel, set in a dystopian fantasy world in the year 2059, follows 19 year old Paige Mahoney – a dreamwalker, a powerful kind of clairvoyant, whose ability is punishable by death. A large part of the novel takes place in Oxford, reflecting Shannon’s time as a student at the University while she was writing the first book. Cherwell spoke with her to discuss these influences, as well as the release of The Dark Mirror

Cherwell: How are you feeling about being over halfway through The Bone Season? Are you looking forward to wrapping everything up, or is it going to be hard to leave your protagonist, Paige Mahoney, and her world behind?

Shannon: I have mixed feelings. Part of me does look forward to writing the final book, because I’m excited to show readers how all the threads come together, but I’m also dreading the prospect of leaving the series behind. I’ve been working on this story since I was 19, and it’s been a mainstay in my life ever since; no matter what else I write, I’ve always had the reassurance of knowing I can go to the Bone Season series. I don’t think I’ll ever really leave it behind – I love the characters and the story too much. Even after I’ve finished the main series, I’ll find a way to keep playing in that world.  

Cherwell: Have you found yourself wanting to deviate from the original outline of the seven books, or has the majority of the plot stayed the same since you initially planned it?

Shannon: The majority of the plot has stayed the same, aside from a significant thread I decided to cut from The Dark Mirror, which didn’t end up suiting the person Paige has become. Last year I went back and revised the first four books in the series, creating the Author’s Preferred Texts, but that was more about the writing style than it was about the story.

Cherwell: Your writing covers a lot of different styles, including a unique blend of genres just within The Bone Season. Could you tell us more about how you developed that approach?

Shannon: I think there are two basic ways of writing a long series. You either use a repeating structure, so readers know roughly what to expect from each book – that can be fun and comforting – or you shake it up to keep things fresh and interesting. I chose the second option. Each book has its own distinct flavour and aesthetic – the first is a jailbreak in Oxford, the second is a murder mystery in London, the third is a heist across multiple cities, and so on. This approach makes it difficult for readers to predict what will happen in each instalment. My mantra with the series is ‘don’t be afraid to take big risks’ and so far, I’ve stuck to it.

Cherwell: One of the interesting things about The Mask Falling, the fourth book in The Bone Season, was the exploration of the French language in the context of Scion, the oppressive  empire in the series. With the setting of Italy being key to The Dark Mirror, have you taken a similar approach with Italian? How have you found working with these different languages while building an alternate world?

Shannon: I didn’t take the same approach to Italian because Italy isn’t part of the Republic of Scion, the empire that Paige is trying to defeat. The reason I tweaked French specifically was because Scion, despite being oppressive in other ways, is not a patriarchy; therefore, certain rules of the French language, such as the masculine gender always prevailing over the feminine, simply didn’t make sense in that context. The Italian in the book, on the other hand, is true to the present day. You’ll also see some Neapolitan and Venetian.

Cherwell: Another interesting aspect of the series as a whole is that it takes a global perspective on the dystopian genre, rather than focusing only on one country. What were your motivations for taking this approach, and what are the rewards and challenges this angle brings?

Shannon: As you say, dystopian fiction is often focused on one place, whether that’s a city or a community. It can be an effective way to explore a suffocating, tightly controlled environment. Nineteen Eighty-Four is set entirely in London; most of the Divergent trilogy takes place in Chicago. But I was fascinated by the idea of showing a dystopia from both the inside and the outside, contrasting it with the rest of the world. When I read The Hunger Games, I was always wondering what other countries were doing while Panem sacrifices its children. Are they watching in horror? Do they have their own copycat versions of the Hunger Games? Do they even exist any longer, or is Panem the last civilisation left on Earth? With The Bone Season, I wanted to answer those burning questions that might occur to a reader. I show the capital of Scion, but also other cities and countries it controls, as well as those that lie beyond its influence. Paige herself was also born outside Scion, in a country Scion later conquered, and remembers what it was like to be a ‘free-worlder’ before she was forced to move to London. The Dark Mirror is the first book in the series to step outside the empire. 

Cherwell: Fortune telling, especially tarot cards, play a significant role in the series, and they also seem to be gaining popularity among Gen Z and Millennials. Do you have any personal experience of these practices, and has it influenced your inclusion of them in your writing?

Shannon: I actually never had my cards read until last year, so I can’t say that personal experience went into its inclusion in The Bone Season – I just loved the idea of using divination and fortune telling as the basis of a magic system. Even though I’m not generally superstitious, I was fearful of getting a ‘bad’ spread and having it play on my mind. Now I’ve had a reading, I can see why it’s so popular, as I found it a useful tool for self-reflection. 

Cherwell: Readers might come to your work with an expectation of LGBTQIA+ characters, especially after the success of The Roots of Chaos series. How have you found including LGBTQIA+ characters in The Bone Season in comparison?

Shannon: The Bone Season series is centred on a relationship between a man and a woman, so I think some people miss the queerness at first glance, but it does have a lot of LGBTQIA+ representation. The Republic of Scion is a queernorm society, and several of the main and secondary characters are queer, including Nick, Arcturus – the love interest – and Maria. While the Roots of Chaos books are also queernorm to a degree, they do touch on what I might call structural homophobia, while The Bone Season doesn’t.

Cherwell: How did your experience as a student in Oxford shape your ideas for the first book in the series?

Shannon: Oxford was a double-edged sword for me. I’m so grateful for the opportunities I had there, but I felt overwhelmed, racked by imposter syndrome, and generally out of my depth in the bubble. It didn’t help that I had undiagnosed anxiety. It’s become a source of regret in the twelve years since I graduated. I often wish I could repeat my degree in a better mindset, perhaps after taking a gap year, as I know I would have enjoyed it far more if I hadn’t been so burned out from my A-Levels. I have such a hunger for knowledge these days, and I’m far more confident and comfortable in my own skin. In hindsight, I needed a breather from academia before I dived into the pressure cooker.

Cherwell: What were your favourite parts of being a student in Oxford? Are there any particular shops, cafes, restaurants etc. that you’d recommend to current students?

Shannon: I didn’t go to Magdalen, but I’ve always loved that college, which is why I set most of The Bone Season there. It’s so beautiful – I always visit when I’m in Oxford. I was a Stanner, so my usual student haunt was St Anne’s Coffee Shop, but I loved Manos in Jericho for a Greek takeaway, and I remain a big fan of Queen’s Lane Coffee House for slap-up brunch. Finally, the milkshakes at Moo Moos in the Covered Market always hit the spot. I’m so glad all these places are still going strong.

Cherwell: You’ve previously mentioned video games as an underrated form of storytelling. Which games stand out to you as examples of powerful narratives?

Shannon: My dear friend Tasha Suri recently convinced me to dive into Baldur’s Gate 3. I had never really tried D&D or any sort of turn-based game before, so there was a learning curve, but the characters and story are so compelling, it’s all I can do not to play all the time. Some other games I’ve really enjoyed for the story are A Plague Tale, Ghost of Tsushima, and Portal 2

The Dark Mirror by Samantha Shannon is out now, published by Bloomsbury on 25th February 2025.

Moosa Harraj elected Oxford Union president

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Moosa Harraj running for the #Bridge slate has been elected Union President for Michaelmas Term 2025 with 833 first preferences, by a margin of around 200 votes over Chris Collins.

The #Bridge slate swept the officer roles. Katherine Yang will be Librarian-elect with 826 first preferences. Raza Nazar will be Treasurer-elect with 878 first preferences. Jennifer Yang was elected Secretary with 855 first preferences.

The following candidates were elected to the Standing Committee, from highest to lowest order of votes: Brayden Lee, Matthew Chiu, Samy Medjdoub, Akshay Pendyala, Chloe Pomfret, Victor Marroquin-Merino.

Results for Secretary’s Committee will be announced tomorrow.

In an interview with Cherwell, Harraj said that he wants to ensure the financial stability of the Union, given its “precarious” financial situation, and create a sponsored Union scholarship programme to “further subsidise students who really need it to become members”. 

1737 votes were cast in total.

Cartoon: ‘Have a restful vac!’

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In her final cartoon of term, Caitie Foley looks ahead to how many will be spending the Easter vac.

Have an opinion on the points raised in this cartoon? Send us a 150-word letter at [email protected] and see your response in our next print or online.

An evening at Pierre Victoire: French bistro dining at its best

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Pierre Victoire has been here on Little Clarendon Street for decades – one of our porters even worked there before coming to college. So I was personally delighted to have the chance to try their menu for a second time, after the arrival of Chris Prow, who had 2 AA Rosettes at his last restaurant in London. 

Phoebe, the Lifestyle Dep Ed, arrived with me that evening to a slightly packed bistro and an immediately homely atmosphere. The warm lighting and candles with a vase of flowers lent itself well to the intimate atmosphere; though we were near other tables, they never  bothered us, so we were able to enjoy the bread basket with butter in peace. 

The menu is prix fixe: there’s a choice of two or three courses without drinks, where certain menu options (like escargot) have a small additional surcharge. Two courses are £29 and three courses £36, a decent price comparable to some college formals.  Pierre Victoire also serves lunch, with a slight discount on prices. The menu is filled with classics: moules-frites, duck leg, French onion soup, steak frites, chicken and bacon pate, the list goes on. We decided to share escargots and mussels for the starter, with venison and sea bass for our mains. The vegetarian options were decent in the starters, with fried Camembert or chicory salad, but risotto or a mushroom tart were the only veggie mains. The fondue options in both the main and desserts options were tempting, though. 

Starter wise, we were decently satisfied. The first time I was here (pre chef change), I found the garlic in the escargot almost overwhelming; today, it brought a nice kick of flavor without overpowering the parsley and butter. The mussels were not sandy, and the sauce was quite light, though a bit runny. What we could taste had a bit too little of the parsley and shallot flavor, but the white wine did not give an overly acidic taste. 

The wine! We had a bottle of the house white, which I found not too bitter and paired well with most of the food (curse my choice of venison!) I am notoriously not much of a wine taster, but I am very picky about wines, and I happily finished my half of the bottle. The wine list was long, besides an option of various coffees and teas, though we were perfectly content with our wine and water. 

The mains certainly didn’t disappoint either. Last time, I had a splendid duck breast with raspberry sauce that was perfectly pink and a nice blend of tart and salty. The venison tonight was knife tender; the burgundy sauce blended together with the horseradish creme fraiche and added a bit of a kick to the otherwise less seasoned meat. The burgundy tasted of mushroom and bacon and less so shallot, but was decadent and fragrant. I loved the dauphinoise potatoes; they always are extra tender and creamy, which adds a smooth sensation in your mouth compared to the venison. My candied carrots were sweet but not sickly so, an overall success. Phoebe found the sea bass itself well-cooked and perfect with the hit of salt from the capers, with the beurre blanc adding a nice citrusy hit from the lemon. In comparison, the crushed potatoes were almost bland, though the leek fondue added an interesting texture. The portions were sufficient with the appetizer to fill up someone not too hungry, but it’s definitely more of a special occasion restaurant than for a post-practice team dinner. 

Dessert gave us the option of various ice creams and sorbets, fondue for two, cheesecake, and a cheese board. We ordered the creme brûlée and the dense chocolate marquise. My brûlée came freshly torched with a hot dish. It was easy to crack, but I realized some parts of the sugar was thicker than the others. The relative runniness of the custard was relieving and the dish as a whole was not too sweet. The mint added a nice zing as well. In the marquise, the zing came from the orange sauce, where the orange came nicely through as an aftertaste when combined with the marquise. Though small, the marquise was dense, easily filling us up. The chantilly was “nicely sweet” with a nice vanilla aftertaste. Phoebe found a nice balance with a good blend of chocolate in the dessert. I thought there was a slight alcoholic aftertaste, but was still happy with the results. 

I wasn’t disappointed by the night, but considering we were on a student budget, we found that the restaurant was not perfect. I certainly think it depends on the menu at the time, but Pierre Victoire had certainly improved from the last time I was there. The cozy atmosphere also proves perfect for anniversaries and other one-offs where the tight-knit French experience is allowed to be truly appreciated. We certainly had fun!

Oxford Union has ‘two years of operations remaining’ until insolvency

The Oxford Union, self-proclaimed “most prestigious debating society in the world”, has attracted thousands of members and international interest throughout its 200-year-long history, hosting figures from Michael Jackson to Malcolm X. The society is an unincorporated organisation, officially governed solely by elected Committee members, who are more often than not students of the University of Oxford.

According to a balance sheet and accompanying commentary for the 2024/25 academic year authored in January 2025 by the Union’s externally-employed bursar, viewed by Cherwell, the Oxford Union has two years of operation remaining at the current rate of operational losses. The full year budget forecasts a loss of over £358,000 by the end of budgetary year. Cherwell spoke to several current and former senior Union committee members,  who were granted anonymity to speak frankly, to gain a comprehensive view of the systemic problems underpinning the Union’s financial circumstance. Additionally, Cherwell asked them about the key donors preventing the society from going under, including an adviser to a Saudi-Arabian minister, who has overseen more than 80% of fundraising for a key Union initiative.

The accounts

The Oxford Union Society is in a precarious financial situation, with its bursar and head of finance stating  that the society “has two years of operation remaining” until the society is “no longer a going concern”. A company is a going concern if it is able to continue operating and meeting its financial obligations for the foreseeable future. The Union’s funds are needed primarily for administrative and operational costs, including paying staff, maintaining the society’s buildings, and funding meals for guest speakers and Committee. According to company management accounts and an accompanying commentary seen by Cherwell, the Oxford Union made a loss of over £99,000 in the first half of the 2024/25 budget year. Accompanying commentary notes that as the Union has a cash balance of £718,000, it could remain financially viable for only two more years if it sustains those same losses.

The majority of this deficit comes from “exceptional costs”, including a £137,000 toilet renovation and £39,000 window repair. Additionally, the roof of the Union building requires around a million pounds to be repaired, according to the estimate of one former senior committee member. An additional sum of around £11,000 was spent on legal and consulting fees, in part to address the legal aftershock of the Israel-Palestine debate. Cherwell recently reported that the Union’s standing committee was advised in December that it could face criminal liability amid an ongoing counter-terror investigation into comments made at that debate. Excluding these exceptional costs, the accounts still forecast an operational loss of over £148,000. These issues have arisen from a fatal coincidence of falling income and climbing costs.

Besides donations, the Oxford Union’s accounts project membership, debating competitions, and events as its three routes of income. Membership accounts for half of the Union’s income. However, the Union is forecasted to reach just 90% of its membership goal this year, falling short of its budgeted membership income by £80,000.  Commentary authored by its bursar noted, “[We] are not sure if the decline in membership enrolment in MT24 [Michaelmas Term 2024] is a trend, a result of Union activity in MT24, or lack of effective marketing for MT24”, but emphasised the urgency of rectifying the issue. Michaelmas Term 2024 saw unprecedented turmoil in Union politics, with debates frequently derailed by student political maneuvering. The result was debates that were often delayed by more than an hour, with one source saying: “I think people came and they saw that in the environment, and they didn’t want to spend 300 [pounds] to join it.” In addition, debate competitions are projected to generate just 16% of their budgeted income, a disparity of £54,000.

The society’s 2024/25 budget anticipated that it would also generate income in published videos and food and beverage sales. However, these are both projected to be sources of significant financial loss, with the latter suffering from a variance of -1579.9% between its budgeted income and forecast loss. Additionally, despite recent price increases in the Members Bar, the accounts project a £9,000 loss due to food and beverages, despite the yearly budget expecting it to break even and make £600. Further, the Union produces YouTube videos of debates and speeches with the intention of attracting international attention and generating additional funding via advertising revenue. Whilst the accounts leave it unclear how much expenditure can be attributed to video production, the commentary notes that “this year the filming costs are greater than the revenue generated from the filming”, and “a model that costs the Society ~£100k per annum is not sustainable”.

The Oxford Union’s forecast sources of overall loss for 2024-25

No sign of stopping

Despite recurrent losses, the Union has displayed little urgency in reducing its expenditure, evident in its Hilary Term Ball. “We spent £5000 on Bollinger champagne […] there was  £1,800 [spent] on peacocks, £750 [spent] on an ice sculpture”, one former senior Union committee member told Cherwell. Usually the Union’s student committee works at the balls and receives free tickets in exchange. This time, external staff were hired for around £3,000. A Union source added that two weeks before the ball, only 300 tickets of the 600 person capacity had been sold. Around 70 committee members still received free tickets, valued at £110. 

Several sources stated that systemic short-termism is a major source of the Union’s financial problems. One former senior Union committee member asserted that in the span of eight weeks, it is difficult for presidents to make sustainable change beyond organising debates and events. “It’s very easy to come in and look at the accounts and think, ‘Well, there’s a problem, but it’s not my problem, because I’m only here for three months’,” one source told Cherwell.

The source added: “When the annual budget is presented, depressingly, there’s ten minutes of discussion, and that’s it […] standing committee continually approves loss-making budgets, because it’s never been at the point where those people are the people who actually need to reckon with the consequences.” 

Consequently, multiple sources agreed that the current state of the Oxford Union was such that students engaged in front-of-house political activities, often discussing the positions that students would occupy. Meanwhile, significant decisions regarding finances and governance were made by donors behind closed doors.

Further, personal politics take precedence over the endurance of the society’s financial sustainability. Multiple sources stated that standing committee fails to scrutinise the society’s finances, making key decisions based on their slates and the minutiae of Union politics.

Reliance on donors

Due to the failures of fundraising and development channels in the society’s current governance structures, the Union relies extensively on donors to keep its doors open.

In particular, the Union has relied on a former Union president turned adviser to a Saudi minister, Michael Li. Li has personally donated more than £50,000 to the Oxford Union, and helped raise more than 80% of the money for a key fundraising drive.

In March 2024, the Union published the Minute Book, a fundraising brochure aimed at alumni and prospective donors. The brochure outlines a fundraising goal of £5,000,000 by the end of 2025, of which £1,600,000 is said to have been secured at the time of publication. The Minute Book states that this fund is intended to “prevent the closure of the independent buildings” and ensure that the Union can continue to be the “last bastion of free speech”. Over 80% of these donations have come from the US Oxford Union Foundation (OXUF), a US-based non-profit established in 2023 that was set up to process fundraising for the Union in the United States.

The publication of the Minute Book was a moment where sources described realising the opacity of the Union’s finances. A former committee member told Cherwell that “almost none” of the brochure had been presented before the Union’s standing committee prior to publication. They expressed particular frustration at the implication that there could be an authority with power to undermine the elected governing body of the Union: “I thought, why on earth do you think that you can give all this to the alumni, but you don’t feel any obligation to tell standing committee about it?”

The brochure notes that Li, a former Union president from Trinity Term 2017, is the chair of OXUF, and recognises Li’s efforts in supporting the Union financially throughout. The rest of the fundraising comes from OLDUT, a financial trust that owns the Oxford Union’s buildings and grants the Society a licence to operate on its premises.

Li was previously pictured signing a deal between the Oxford Union and the Saudi Arabian think-tank, the Future Investment Initiative. In a brochure for an Arab-China business conference, Li is described as an adviser to a Saudi minister in the Ministry of Investment of Saudi Arabia.

A previous standing committee member described Li’s role primarily in terms of securing high-value donors and speakers for the Union. A senior former Union officer told Cherwell that Li was involved in the invitation of the Saudi ambassador to speak to the Union in 2022 about the country’s Vision 2030 programme. Former Union president Charlie Mackintosh also previously told journalists from The Oxford Student newspaper in 2023 that Li had passed on invitations to the ambassadors of the UAE and Bahrain on his behalf.

However, the Union as an organisation has appeared unaware of Li’s formal role and his influence within its financial and governance structure. In response to a press enquiry, Li was said to have no role within the society, its spokesperson stating in September 2023 that Li “does not represent the Society in an official capacity”. In response to earlier comment requests, however, the Union had asserted that Li was “chair of US fundraising”, with Li “giving up his time to focus on US development”.

Multiple sources attested that they were unsure of Li’s formal role in the Union’s governance. Discussing Li’s role, the former Union committee member said: “He very clearly has a very large amount of influence despite not having any formal role, let alone any elected authority. The people who do have formal roles and elected authority have no idea what is going on […] decisions that should be made by standing committee are not made by standing committee, they’re made by OLDUT or Michael Li.”

According to previous reporting, Li signed an agreement on behalf of the Union with the Future Investment Initiative (FII). The FII was set up by Saudi Arabia’s main sovereign wealth fund, and became notorious after it was blacklisted by major companies as a result of the murder of the journalist Jamal Khashoggi. Li represented himself to the FII as the Union’s Chair of Development Board, a position that the Union then confirmed did not exist.

OLDUT told Cherwell: “OLDUT does not take, and has never taken, decisions that should be taken by the Oxford Union Society’s Standing Committee. The Oxford Union Society, as a members’ club, is governed by its members and its rules. 

“Michael Li, ex-President, is Chair of OXUF, the Oxford Union Friends,  and liaises with potential donors in the US. He takes no decisions on behalf of OUS or OLDUT.”

An uncertain insurance

Multiple Union sources told Cherwell that unceremonious conduct in the Oxford Union may, however, have deterred donors, which most visibly manifested in Lord Heseltine’s walk out during the 7th November debate. Multiple sources told Cherwell that the Union was expecting to be signed into Heseltine’s will, though that now seems unlikely.

Multiple sources told Cherwell that if the Oxford Union does not address its financial issues by becoming incorporated or fundraising, there is a plausible scenario where it ceases to exist. A former Union committee member told Cherwell: “I see [a bail out by donors] not necessarily happening this time around, because the Union has gotten into all these controversies”.

A current Union committee member summed up the financial state of the society: “Ultimately, it is a student run society […] there are permanent staff that have far greater capacity to deal with these issues than a lot of us”. Internal politics and financial irresponsibility on the committee’s side pose a major threat to the Oxford Union’s immediate future. The society’s prospects are perhaps not so bleak, however, with options including a transition to an incorporated company with a permanent board of trustees to prevent a future financial crisis. Alternatively, the Union may remain dependent on figures like Michael Li and other donors, though the past year’s turbulent Union politics do not serve well to attract more patrons and maintain old beneficiaries. Whether or not the Oxford Union will continue to operate for more than two years remains to be seen.

The Oxford Union did not respond to Cherwell‘s request for comment.