The Green Knight is a medieval movie for the Internet age. I don’t mean that the titular Green Knight appears to King Arthur’s court on a Zoom call, or that Gawain, the protagonist of the film, Googles where to find the knight to fulfil his quest. I say that because, even though it’s set in a mythic past, the film’s explorations of morality and reputation are uniquely applicable to the question of doing what’s right in a digital world.
In a conversation with a mysterious lord he meets, Gawain expresses his motivations for taking on the dangerous quest of finding the Green Knight: he hopes to be seen as an honourable knight, and thus become part of Arthur’s court. But Gawain’s halting delivery shows that he has never deeply examined this idea of honour.
Gawain is introduced as an inexperienced warrior anxious to make his name in King Arthur’s court, and the fact that Gawain is played by Dev Patel, an actor of Indian descent, complicates this anxiety. As Arthur conspicuously states that his knights have helped cement his rule over the Saxons, who “bow their heads like babes” to their new king, his court becomes linked to ideas of colonialism and conquest. Gawain thus reads as a racial outsider in a hierarchical society, with the “honour” he seeks being bound up with the desire to be accepted by those in power.
In fact, the movie questions whether “honour” is anything more than reputation. Near the film’s conclusion, Gawain experiences a vision where he flees from his quest to meet the Green Knight, returning to Camelot and presumably inventing a story of his success, and eventually succeeding Arthur as king. Even though he flees from his quest, Gawain can wear the public persona of a good knight who has succeeded in his quest; later, when he is king, he upholds this persona through violence, with his soldiers executing a peasant who heckles him. The knightly, or kingly, status that Gawain seeks is thus a matter of public perception, with little to do with Gawain’s morals, or lack thereof.
The film’s costume designer, Malgozia Turzanska, further emphasizes the cost of royal status by having Arthur and Guinevere’s robes be covered with milagros, or small charms, which she imagined were gifts from their subjects. Beneath these charms, they are “barely able to move under all this gratitude” , visually communicating the weight of their responsibilities. The scenes in Arthur’s court are visually claustrophobic, filmed in muted greys, contrasting with the usual portrayal of Medieval courts as places of joy and merriment. Even before Gawain’s vision of ruin, the fact that the court is an eerie, grim place communicates the constricting nature of the world he seeks to be part of.
But this is only a vision, and when Gawain returns to reality, he is given a second chance. So he removes the magical girdle that he believes will protect him from harm, and faces the Knight bravely, knowing that this may end in death…and then, the film ends. As Gawain chooses to fulfil his obligations, he rejects the version of honour that is rooted in public perception—and as he sets that idea aside, we are also excluded from knowing the outcome of his leap of faith. Only in rejecting his desire to be seen as an honourable knight by the world does Gawain, paradoxically, become the traditionally heroic knight.
Comparing this with the modern world, what has changed? I cannot speak for anyone else, but when faced with the many issues in the world that demand my attention, empathy or action, I am often paralyzed. The ritual gestures indicating that my heart is in the right place are easy: to retweet something, share the latest infographic about the latest controversy, send thoughts and prayers.
I would incur no cost doing these little things, and temporarily enjoy being cloaked in support by likes and retweets, like a robe of milagros weighing on my shoulders. But watching Gawain risk his life at the close of his quest made me think of how people around me—many people whom I knew and studied with—were working and sacrificing to do good in the world, from Afghanistan to Texas. I have friends in Oxford whose sincere devotion to doing good deeds make me feel awed, and a little ashamed. It makes me wonder if, even if I did try to imitate them, I could ever come close to doing what they do so seemingly-easily.
But just as Gawain’s biggest step to becoming a knight is to stop worrying about whether he’ll be seen as one, it seems that the real choice is to stop doubting and start doing. That’s the simplest part, and the hardest one.
Oxford University has confirmed that they expect most teaching in Hilary term to take place in-person, according to an email sent to students on January 6th.
However, due to record high rates of COVID-19 across the country, the University assessed that it is “important that we all keep on taking steps to limit the spread of the virus”. Among these steps is wearing face coverings, which will now be mandatory in all teaching and assessment settings for those who are not exempt.
The University also said that assessments are likely to go ahead in their planned format, which varies across departments.
Departments will put alternative arrangements in place for teaching if either staff or students are unable to attend in-person due to illness. However, some staff may choose to teach remotely “because they consider it the most educationally effective approach”.
Residency requirements will remain in place for Hilary term, unless students are “genuinely unable to be in Oxford”. The email tells students it is “important” for them to take a lateral flow test 24 hours before returning to Oxford, another upon arrival, and a third three days later.
Although there is currently a shortage of lateral flow tests available in the UK, the University says that tests will be available from the University and colleges.
Students returning to Oxford from overseas are told to follow international travel rules. From Friday January 7th, fully vaccinated travellers to England will no longer have to take a test two days before travelling. They will still need to take a PCR test upon arrival, but will not have to self-isolate while waiting for the result.
The University is also asking students to receive a booster vaccination “as soon as possible”, and to take a COVID test twice a week. Further information about the University’s testing programme is expected to follow next week.
The University said: “We hope this provides a useful update as you prepare for Hilary term. As ever, the student page of the University’s coronavirus site is the place to find all the latest detailed information, and if you have any specific enquiries about your personal situation, please contact your college or department in the first instance.”
Seven members of Oxford University have been recognised by the New Years’ Honours List 2022. The List recognises extraordinary contributions to fields ranging from health to education and aims to praise those who have had a significant positive impact on their community and the wider nation.
Professor Irene Tracey FMedSci, MAE, who is both a Professor of Neuroscience and Warden of Merton College, was appointed CBE for her contributions to medical research. She has served on the UKRI Medical Research Council since 2017 and stood as President-elect of the Federation of European Neuroscience Societies.
Professor Tracey said: “I am truly delighted that my past and present team’s research to understand the brain mechanisms underpinning the major medical health problem of chronic pain has been recognised in this way. I am so fortunate to work with such a dedicated group of globally drawn scientists and clinicians, and I am so grateful to Oxford University and my various colleges for all the support over the years.”
Professor Myles Allen, FInstP, Professor of Geosystem Science in the Environmental Change Institute, School of Geography and the Environment and Department of Physics, a Fellow of Linacre College, and Director of the Oxford Net Zero initiative, has been appointed CBE for services to climate change attribution, prediction, and net zero.
Professor Allen has contributed vastly to the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, acting as Coordinating Lead Author of the 2018 Special Report on 1.5°C. He has also instigated the weatherathome and climateprediction.net projects, using publicly-donated computing resources to investigate climate predictions.
Professor Allen said: “All climate research is a team endeavour, and this is particularly true of the net zero journey… I’m honoured to have played my part.”
Coincidentally, Professor Allen is Professor Tracey’s husband.
Professor Jonathan Michie has been appointed OBE for services to education and lifelong learning. Professor Michie is Professor of Innovation and Knowledge Exchange and President of Kellogg College, where he has led Continuing Education for over 13 years. He has been Co-Secretary on the Centenary Commission of Adult Education and now occupies the Chair of the Universities Association for Lifelong Learning.
“The award is for ‘services to education and lifelong learning’ – the successes I’ve been involved in have been due to colleagues at Oxford’s Continuing Education and Kellogg College, and with the Centenary Commission on Adult Education and the Universities Association for Lifelong Learning. I’m most grateful to them all!” Said Professor Michie.
Professor Richard Haynes has been appointed MBE for Global Health.
A coordinator of the RECOVERY trial, which aimed to identify treatments for adults hospitalised with COVID-19, Haynes said: “COVID-19 has brought out the best in health services staff everywhere and I am very proud to be a small part of that. Above all, I would like to thank all of our participants who so bravely took the decision to participate in such difficult circumstances without whose contribution RECOVERY could not succeed.”
Lucy Fletcher, Senior Clinical Trial Manager, has been appointed MBE for services to Clinical Trials. Fletcher was likewise involved with the RECOVERY trial.
“It is a privilege to receive this honour for services to Clinical Trials. My recent involvement in the management of the RECOVERY trial of treatments for COVID-19 has been an extraordinary and hugely rewarding experience,” said Fletcher.
The Right HonourableThe Baroness Amos CH PC, the Master of University College Oxford, has been appointed to be a Lady Companion of the Most Noble Order of the Garter.
Valerie Amos, who moved to Great Britain from Guyana in 1963 and dedicated her career to creating equal opportunities, has previously been Chief Executive, Equal Opportunities Commission, Secretary of State for International Development, Lord President of the Council and Leader of the House of Lords, Undersecretary General for Humanitarian Affairs and Emergency Relief Co-ordinator, UN and became Master, University College Oxford, in 2020.
Professor Sarah Springman CBE FREng, professor of geotechnical engineering, receives a damehood for services to engineering and to international sports administration. Springman, who is soon to become principal of St Hilda’s College, is a former elite triathlete and renowned geotechnical engineer. A pioneer in soil-structure interaction and geological mass movements, Springman was elected a Fellow of The Royal Academy of Engineering in 2009 and of The Swiss Academy for Technological Sciences in 2015.
In 1936, a woman named Margarita was born on the beautiful shores of Costa Rica. Affectionately called ‘Maga’ by all who knew her, she was a remarkable woman of her time. She was part of a generation of women whose access to secondary and higher education was often restricted. But, as her granddaughter Laura Montero tells me, Maga was smart, creative, generous and she had a deep enthusiasm for the pursuit of knowledge. But Maga’s family were forced to take the decision that only one of the three daughters of the family could continue with their formal education; thus Maga had to give up her role as a teacher and began to take care of her family home instead. Yet it became clear that nothing could suppress her love of learning and her passion for the development of life skills – a passion that shines through in her granddaughter. Maga taught herself all manner of things and her home was constantly flooded by visitors in awe of her wisdom who wished to share her insight. As her granddaughter tells me: “Life tried to cut her wings – but she found a way to fly on her own.”
Maga passed away in April last year due to a rare illness called progressive supranuclear palsy, leaving behind a loving family including her devoted husband and adoring granddaughter, Laura. The most important thing Maga gave to Laura was her sense of creativity and her desire to express herself so to honour her memory, Laura founded the Casa Maga Performing Arts Academy. She tells me that Maga used to take care of her while her own mother was away at work, turning their home into an educational environment that was safe and exciting. Laura says she has always believed in giving a voice to those who have been silenced by pressures in society. When I asked what drove her to found the Academy, she told me: “I wanted to build what I had, for others.”
Since the Academy was founded, it has flourished, taking in students from the age of just 6 and delivering a range of classes in disciplines like acting, singing, dance and public speaking. The younger students even started creating short films as Laura was keen to introduce the students to what life could be like behind the camera as well as in front of it. The pandemic put a marked strain on arts industries across the world – Costa Rica as a nation was also hit hard by the effects of coronavirus. When the pandemic began, Laura tells me how all their classes moved online, providing great solace to all the students of the Academy and allowing their creative education to continue. The British arts industry came under extreme strain during the pandemic, reaching crisis point last year as even venues like the Old Vic and the Royal Albert Hall warned that they were close to collapse. Costa Rican art is centred predominantly around the private sector – consequently, Laura tells me how the last few years have threatened to take a serious toll on the development of theatre, film and culture. But Laura was adamant that Casa Maga would continue to support its students no matter what happened.
This is only the beginning: Laura has an exciting new project in the pipelines for the Academy. She has a vision to create a children’s television programme that will teach children those life skills that her grandmother took such great pains to pass on to her. She is a firm believer that there are some things that children just cannot learn in the classroom and wants to educate children about the environment, neuroscience, the world of finance and the pressures of the creative industry. The arts industry in Costa Rica is still a limited one. For young aspiring actors, directors or production workers, opportunities to thrive in the industry are hard to come by.
Basílica Santo Domingo de Guzmán, in Santo Domingo de Heredia, where Casa Maga is based. Image Credit: Victor Quirós A/CC BY-SA 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons
I spent the summer giving workshops to the exceptionally talented 6-14 year old students of Casa Maga as well as working with Laura to write and produce their television show. The show will focus on the raising of environmental awareness, nurturing emotional intelligence, demystifying the economy and finally, will include a short film section which will underline the importance of performing arts while showcasing the talent of the actors and actresses at Casa Maga Academy, all against the backdrop of the beautiful and varied scenery of Costa Rica.
The name ‘Costa Rica’ literally translates as ‘Rich Coast’ and even my short, remote, time spent with the Academy made it clear that the nation’s culture is rich indeed. The Costa Rican story is one of growing resilience, creativity and an outstanding ecological awareness: Laura deeply believes that this is a story that deserves telling. One of the most striking things that Laura made sure to tell me as soon as we began working together was that Costa Rica does not have a national army, and has not had one since 1948. The decision to abolish the armed forces was symbolic of a commitment made to education by redirecting resources to the cultivation of a vibrant culture which now permeates every area of national life. The nation boasts a thriving public health sector, breathtaking ecological variety and a deep commitment to the environment, reflected in the government’s admirable goal to be the first country in the world to achieve total decarbonization. Nor is the scope of Costa Rican vision limited to developments on home soil: earlier this year, a bill was passed by Congress which signalled the creation of a national Space Agency.
But Laura is also clear that for all its beauty, the shores of Costa Rica are marred by great atrocity and tragedy. The high femicide and child violence rates in the country are shocking, and Laura tells me how it is unthinkable that a woman of any age should walk anywhere outside by herself after darkness falls. I asked Laura what it was like to be a woman who had chosen to pursue a career in the arts industry in Costa Rica. She told me about the various difficulties she has had to face, such as dealing with a consistent gender pay gap throughout her career. In her words: “I have to be brave, strong, and I have to have resilience”.
We talked at great length about how these kinds of issues impact the lives of Costa Ricans, and how she hopes that change might be made so that the lives of the children at Casa Maga might not always be so affected by such concerns. The television series, in addition to all that it can contribute to the arts in the country, also hopes to bring attention to Costa Rica on the global stage so that these issues can be recognised and tackled with greater urgency.
As Laura first explained her educational vision for the television show to me, I could not help but think of Blue Peter and Horrible Histories and Dora the Explorer and all those shows I had watched as a child which taught me so much in my formative years which genuinely contributed to how I learn as an adult. A successful television show has the power to stay with one for a long time – they can teach us so much, make us laugh, cry and want to run outside and discover new places – and this is what drew me to working alongside Laura and Casa Maga in the first place.
What inspired me most about the children of Casa Maga was their raw love of learning that I have to admit, guiltily, I often lose sight of amidst the stress of deadlines and essay crises. For the students I was working with, Oxford was a magical place about which they had heard amazing things. I held a Q&A session with them about Oxford life, and they were brimming with questions about the things that fascinated us all as youngsters, but that seem to lose their wonder once they become part of our everyday lives: what was it like to work in a library? Did I get to stay up late at university? What was my favourite part of Oxford? Why did I like rowing? How much work did I have? Did I have any time left to have fun?
Their excitement reminded me of how I felt, almost three years ago, bristling with anticipation, nerves and wonder as I wheeled my suitcases over the Wadham threshold for the first time. Towards the end of the internship, one of the 10-year-old students proudly told me how her lifelong dream was to apply to Oxford and come and study here to experience the wonder of the libraries and the late-nights for herself. For all that I taught the children of Casa Maga, they taught me something just as important, if not more so: a passion for learning is a gift to be treasured.
We must not lose sight of the value of involvement and investment in the arts, particularly in a culture which still too-frequently dismisses the sector as one of secondary importance. How often are subjects scorned as ‘soft’ subjects simply because they do not seem to facilitate a straightforward career path? What Laura understands is the way in which a creative education enhances a student and better equips them for whatever line of work they decide to pursue. She says of her work at Casa Maga: “We have planted the seed for creative leaders. I want to see that the kids and teenagers that are here now, in the future, will be creative and sensitive leaders in whatever they do.”
Most importantly, Casa Maga will continue to bear testament to the memory of the intelligence, creativity and kindness of the beloved Maga – a woman who would not give up on her passion for knowledge no matter what the world threw at her. Maga was a remarkable woman with a remarkable legacy, and as Laura tells me: “Her spirit will live through me, and through Casa Maga.”
Last term, I went to see Oxford Millennium Orchestra perform their Michaelmas term concert at the Sheldonian. Billed as the headline, with soloist Magdalena Filipczak, was Bruch’s Violin Concerto No. 1. This was supported by Beethoven’s Egmont overture and Schumann’s Symphony No. 3.
Out from the November night an easy orange glow invited me into the Sheldonian. I trotted up creaking stairs to the top floor, into the jaws of death – the jaws of death being an archaically unintuitive seating set up. The seats on the upper stalls are just three big steps – if you arrive late, sidling along the upper rows in front of those already seated requires deft footwork and a lot of “excuse me”s.
The night began with Beethoven’s Egmont Overture. It was a bracing musical introduction, serving its purpose as an overture, with bold themes easily latched upon by the audience. Composed for the 1788 play of the same name by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, the piece is interesting merely for its connection to two German luminaries. Yet Beethoven’s reputation was not earned by chance; the Egmont overture, with muscular themes and compelling structure, simmers and sweeps and soars.
Goethe’s play describes the life of Count Egmont, a heroic sixteenth-century Dutchman who refuses to give up his liberty despite the threat of arrest from the Spanish. The orchestra conveyed this drama and heroism, playing with eager conviction – tense strings and flowing woodwind melodies leapt out under Adrian Adlam’s tight and economic conducting.
When Egmont finished, soloist Magdalena Filipczak emerged to healthy applause. The audience would soon discover that this applause was not only rightly deserved, but should have been louder. The Bruch Violin Concerto no. 1 seized the ears from its opening strains. Filipczak played with haunting clarity; the meandering violin melodies sizzled against the orchestra’s deeper texture. The instrument she played that night was of note – dated from the 1720s, crafted by famed luthier Antonia Stradivari. Violins made by Stradivari are considered to be among the finest ever made; only musicians of significant repute will ever have the resources and support to be able to play one.
In incompetent hands, a Stradivarius will sound as dull as a charity-shop violin. It was the skill and vivacity of Filipczak’s playing that brought the concerto to life. Icily capricious runs and howling high notes reflected not just of the virtuosity of a professional but the hunger and earnestness of youth. It was exhilarating to be in the audience and hear this liberating three-way conversation between player, conductor and soloist. It seemed that each member of the orchestra was responding with their very best to Filipczak’s electric lead.
The concerto begins with drama; a hushed orchestra swells and softens against the barbed but melodious line of the principal violinist. This moves without break into the second movement, whose singing melody stands out as a highlight of the piece. The third movement buzzes with a dancing, skipping opening theme, returned to throughout, each time with increased vigour and movement. It ends in loud and exuberant style.
When the violin concerto finished, the audience broke out into unrestrained applause. Around the room people glowed with the excitement that comes after a great performance. Filipczak bowed, walked off, walked back on, bowed again, and walked off. Then she walked back on again, this time poised to play something more. She announced to the audience that she would play a piece by composer Grażyna Bacewicz – Polish Capriccio for solo violin. Filipczak drew special attention to Bacewicz being female, standing out among an otherwise all-male cast of composers. It is always worth reiterating, for the sake of our own vigilance, the tragedy ubiquitous among the arts that historic representation of non-male artists remains so poor.
The Oxford Millennium Orchestra mid-performance. Image Credit: The Oxford Millennium Orchestra
The Polish Capriccio, brief as it was, deserves a special mention. Played with all the fire and wit that she gave to the concerto, Filipczak delivered this high-spirited Polish tune convincingly. The audience, perhaps tentative to begin at the prospect of a piece few had heard of, were all applauding unreservedly when it finished.
With that, Magdalena Filipczak walked off for the last time. After the interval, the audience came back to hear Schumann’s Symphony No. 3. However, it felt as though some of the energy of the orchestra had walked off along with Filipczak. The symphony, grand and rarefied though it is, was simply outshined by the preceding performance. Throughout the symphony’s long five movements, it was a struggle to hear it as anything more than a footnote to what had come before. There were occasional flashes of excitement, but the orchestra seemed lethargic. Whether this was from fatigue after a long concert, or the lack of a unifying soloist, was unclear. After the end, conductor Adrian Adlam, speaking a few words about the music, called the Schumann symphony “the great work of the night”. Wherever this greatness lay, it had not been realised in the Schumann the way it had been in the Bruch.
Nevertheless, for an orchestra made up entirely of students, which rehearses only once a week, it was an impressive concert. The evident dedication that each member of the orchestra had put into the music, on top of demanding degrees, is admirable. Adlam had a word or two to say about this; in his closing speech he exalted the students for their cross-disciplinary skill. He seemed particularly enamoured by STEM subjects – presumably the most foreign to a disciple of music – speaking reverently about those studying “physics” or “biomedicine”. It was a touching admission of humility from the conductor, and ended the evening on a tone of good faith. I left satisfied.
Sally Rooney’s new novel Beautiful World, Where Are You starts with a tinder date in a hotel lobby bar overlooking the Atlantic. Alice Kelleher is a twenty-nine-year-old novelist who finds herself on the west-coast of Ireland following a breakdown in New York. Felix is a local who works in an Amazon-esque warehouse. From the very beginning Rooney sets up the parameters of their relationship clearly based on class: Felix rents with friends from work, living in a semi-detached house on an estate described on google maps as a “network of white streets on a grey background”. Alice has a million euros in the bank, a fraught emotional self, and has been given the use of a large old rectory belonging to an artist friend: “It’s much too big, obviously” and “they’re not charging me any rent”.
On the other hand, it’s also a novel about Eileen, Alice’s friend from Trinity College, introduced through an email correspondence with Alice. She works at a literary magazine formatting the full stops in “W.H. Auden”, going to a café to read The Karamazov Brothers and moping about an ex-boyfriend, by looking at his social media with the bleak bio: “local sad boy. Normal brain haver. Check the SoundCloud”. By contrast, Simon, her on-and-off childhood friend-come-love interest, works in politics for an obscure left-wing group and advocates for relatively good things, he had studied Philosophy at Oxford (and for good measure is a Catholic).
From the very set-up the premise is typical of Rooney’s previous two books: the characters’ relationships are constructed through ambivalent power-dynamics; social and economic factors (class, financial background, education, religion, family history) and individual personal forces, (by and large, mistakes and miscommunication). Rooney has always been fascinated by how these things intertwine, how structural factors like politics and the economy can influence everyday life. In an interview about her own Marxist politics, she talks about these interlinking ideas within the scope of novels, about the investigation of how “class as a very broad social structure impacts our personal and intimate lives”. In one particular scene Alice walks into a local supermarket and writes in an email to Eileen that it was a “culmination of all the labour in the world, all the burning of fossil fuels and all the back-breaking work on coffee farms and sugar plantations. All for this!”. – “I thought I would throw up”. Needless to say she still buys her sandwich.
While Rooney wants to make it clear that these characters are made by a complex process of personal and structural factors, the characterisation of these effects comes across as largely typical liberal nihilism: evident contemporary issues are discussed but focus by and large as background. Brexit, climate change, culture wars and fame form a seemingly endless indulgent discourse with no real direction or purpose. Instead, there seems to be an obsession with providing binary opposites within her characters, which comes across as a litany of clichés. Felix is both bad because he watches hardcore pornography but is good in the fact that he likes and gets along well with dogs. Eileen presents her vulnerabilities through the online-stalking of her ‘sad boy’ ex-boyfriend, her tiny apartment, and meagre salary, while Simon can promise his traditional Catholicism, do-gooder job in the Irish government. Alice’s sexual voyeurism is linked to her financial position in allowing Felix to come to Rome with her expenses paid. Felix’s working-class cliché borders on the offensive, or serious ignorance at best, presenting a character who has to literally defend his intelligence: “I can read by the way… I’m not great at reading, but I can read. And I don’t think you really care anyway.” When these minor power-plays slowly unfold and catalyse at the end of the novel, involving a major confrontation between Alice and Eileen, a knocked-over chair, and a wine glass smashed on the kitchen floor, we’re left wondering what the entire point of these relationships was in the first place.
In a more welcome departure, the framing of the novel from different perspectives, broken up by long email-passages between Alice and Eileen, provides an interesting string through which the plot is thread through. If anything, these emails provide greater flexibility for Rooney herself to get her opinions, somewhat, across: Alice, a famous novelist grappling with fame, is an ample nod to her own experience. At their best, these emails provide real insight into celebrity-culture, privacy, and the publishing industry. Rooney appears deeply disturbed by the commodification of her own work, the idea that fame is seemingly random, people “very rapidly, with little or not preparation, into public life, becoming objects of widespread public discourse, debate and critique”. Fame is an obvious double-edged sword, there is no new ground to be broken here, yet in the context of the unrelating discourse on Rooney’s own novels, which saw herself remove her social media, it is interesting. Alice becomes a way in which Rooney can express her dissatisfaction with the contemporary publishing industry, while being able to anonymise her voice through the nature of fiction: “When I submitted the first book, I just wanted to make enough to finish the next one. I never advertised myself as a psychologically robust person, capable of withstanding extensive public inquiries into my personality and upbringing”. By consequence there is, at least for Alice if not Rooney, a kind of nihilism in the point of writing, “no will even remember me, thank god”.
However, these email fragments also contain some of the worst and most indulgent parts of the novel. Alice and Eileen appear almost at complete opposites to how they are otherwise portrayed through these emails, as precocious, privileged actors displaying a kind of over-intellectualised ignorance. On the whole some of the phrasing appears mundane: “I’ve been thinking lately about right-wing politics”; “the idea of ‘conservatism’ is in itself false, because nothing can be conserved, as such”. While the emails seem to be there to present both characters as sort of kitsch intellectuals, they make them seem condescendingly out of touch, if not vapid. Further statements like “at the moment I think it’s fair to say we’re living in a period of historical crisis, and this idea seems to be generally accepted by most of the population” — or that studies show “people have been spending a lot more time reading the news and learning about current affairs”, are just pointless. Instead of giving real insight into both of these characters we are left with a portrayal of them as ignorant at best, completely out of touch at worst. Throughout the novel Alice and Eileen are not consistent moral arbiters, they are not presented as being unread or necessarily stupid, but the emails portray them at their very worse: tedious, indulgent discourse-hunters who hide behind intellectualised language.
In moving away from Normal People, Sally Rooney is herself seemingly reacting to the consequence of fame as a structural process which is acting on her, as well as her characters. And in reconciling all these forces there is an inner tension, both from the very structure of the novel, in how to reconcile all these pressures of modern life, something which is a whirlwind, a pandora’s box of emotional entanglement. In some sense the novelistic choices around structure seem to reflect a growing wish from Rooney’s end to put more politics into her writing, or at the very least to offer some critiques. However the departure breaks little new ground, revolving around a bundle of overworked cliché. Consequently, this isn’t such a radical departure from Normal People, or even Conversations with Friends, it is still very much the same Rooney-esque novel, with a somewhat unsuccessful attempt to move away from her past work.
Since being appointed the BBC’s first specialist disinformation reporter at the start of 2020, she has monitored the spread of viral misinformation and conspiracy theories across social media, and the consequences when they bleed into the real world. It has been a year which has seen her delve into corners of the internet where QAnon and anti-vax conspiracies thrive, and present two episodes of Panorama: one on the anti-vax movement, and another on the spread of online misogyny. Her most recent work includes a special series of Trending on BBC Sounds – The Denial Files – which explores the evolution of climate denialism.
Does she ever switch off? “I’m probably the worst person to ask that question to!” she laughs. “I feel like I am permanently switched on, to my editor’s dismay.”
She traces her interest in journalism to hours spent watching BBC World News on family holidays. “I was very curious about what was going on in the world, and I used to make my poor little sister sit and watch coverage of tsunamis. I think my mum thought I’d gone a bit bonkers!” That sparked an interest in the news which she pursued through secondary school as part of a scheme for young reporters, which taught her how to identify and investigate stories, and got them published.
Going up to Pembroke College to read French and beginner’s Russian, Spring was set on joining a student newspaper. “I remember it being full of second and third years who all seemed to know each other. And I thought ‘oh god. I’m actually a bit worried about this’. But with the encouragement of her family, she stuck with it, becoming a news editor covering stories ranging from changes to Oxford University’s sexual harassment policy, to interviews with Ian Hislop and Gina Miller.
Her year abroad presented new opportunities for reporting. While studying Russian in Yaroslavl, north west of Moscow, Spring wrote articles for the English language newspaper The Moscow Times. While living in France, she wrote for The Local, which allowed her to develop her skills as a reporter further: “It was a really crazy month in Paris: there were floods, protests against labour laws…which meant I got to be out and about reporting. I got teargassed. I remember going to the office with my mascara streaming down my face. My editor asked me if I was alright, but I loved it!”
Coming back to Oxford, Spring returned to Cherwell as deputy editor. Her work abroad and her experience from Cherwell helped seal work experience at Private Eye and The Guardian, which resulted in her working shifts at The Guardian offices in London. Alongside being paid for her reporting, this gave Spring the opportunity to pitch articles drawing on the networks she had cultivated in Russia.
“Doing Cherwell was absolutely brilliant, mainly because you got the chance to report and edit in a way that you often don’t. You learn a lot of the really useful skills that are highly valuable when you’re a news reporter or an editor – particularly stuff to do with defamation and right of reply. My base-level understanding of that was learned at Cherwell…When I first started at the BBC a lot of colleagues who were the same age as me said I knew lots about editorial policy. I learned about it from the other publications I wrote for, too. But I learned a lot from doing Cherwell,” she says of how her experiences from student journalism set her up with skills she used later in her career.
After graduating, Spring continued to work shifts at The Guardian and toyed with the idea of returning to Russia to continue reporting. A colleague at The Guardian recommended emailing female journalists at the BBC whom she admired, through which she invited for shadow shifts helping to produce Newsnight, which led to investigative work at the programme.
Around the time of the 2019 European Elections, she started investigating the spread of disinformation and abuse in Facebook groups. Tackling the spread of fake news became a thread which ran through much of her reporting that year, including during the 2019 General Election, after which the BBC recognised the need for reporters who specialised in monitoring disinformation as election in the US loomed on the horizon.
Throughout our conversation, Spring emphasised that her path into journalism was one of many. “It’s really worth putting yourself out there and asking questions. If you’re engaged and polite then no one will ever have a problem with receiving an email.
“Loads of the best journalists I know didn’t follow a traditional route in. They didn’t do a master’s degree. I didn’t do a master’s. They didn’t necessarily go through a grad scheme. There are all sorts of ways to get into journalism.
“If you’re someone who hasn’t realised they want to do journalism yet, there is absolutely still time to get involved. Lots of people get into journalism later. Don’t feel like because you’re in your third year you can’t decide to write some news articles for Cherwell, or you’d like to explore journalism as a career. It’s never too late. It’s a brilliant career that I absolutely love. And while it isn’t an easy one, it’s definitely incredibly rewarding and exciting.”
For musical theatre purists and sceptics alike, Steven Spielberg’s reboot of West Side Story remains a hard sell. According to the naysayers, the Oscar-winning 1961 film, itself adapted from Sondheim and Bernstein’s musical update of Romeo and Juliet, is timeless, and sacrilegious for Spielberg even to think about revising it. Another possible argument is that the reboot should have at least set the classic story in the present day, instead of recreating 1950s New York through meticulously researched sets and costumes.
However, Spielberg and screenwriter Tony Kushner have understood that, unlike the timeless tale of star-crossed lovers which inspired it, the love story between María (Rachel Zegler) and Tony (Ansel Elgort) takes place in a distinct political context which isn’t straightforwardly transferable to a different time and place. From the film’s opening shots, it is clear that the Jets and Sharks’ motivations for gang violence stem from misdirected rage against the gentrification of their Upper West Side neighbourhood — the unmistakable opening whistles of Leonard Bernstein’s score have a newly sinister quality when accompanying a wrecking ball about to tear down an immigrant neighbourhood in favour of the new Lincoln Center.
The question of why the gangs were fighting in the first place continues to be addressed throughout the film, with some tightly observed monologues from Riff (Mike Faist), the leader of the white European immigrant Jets, whose motivation lies somewhere at the intersection of working class disaffection and xenophobia. On the Puerto Rican side, gang leader Bernardo (David Alvarez) and his girlfriend Anita (Ariana DeBose) discuss, in one of the film’s most effective new scenes, the tension between Anita’s optimism about moving to New York and Bernardo’s insecurity in his outsider status and desire for a traditional life in Puerto Rico — these are, of course, themes touched on in the lyrics of ‘America’. Indeed, ideas of police corruption, disaffection, and the uneasy status of immigrants were all bristling under the surface throughout the 1961 film (those who deride Spielberg’s reimagining as a ‘woke’ corruption of a classic weren’t paying enough attention to the original), but Spielberg and Kushner’s added dialogue allows the audience a deeper look into what was there all along.
Sometimes the additional context can feel a little didactic — Lieutenant Schrank’s (Corey Stoll) opening monologue about the changes in the area edges on overly expository, and one more wonders whether eighteen-year-old recent immigrant María really would be so well-informed about social issues in New York. Moreover, some of the film’s most meaningful scenes are those which do not deviate wildly from the original film, but inevitably resonate more in the different political context of 2021 — Anita’s implied sexual assault and Anybodys’ (now played by non-binary actor Iris Menas) exclusion from the Jets have new meaning in a society with a more modern perspective regarding sexual violence and LGBTQ+ issues.
However, at its best, West Side Story feels like an expanded approach to a familiar tale, providing peripheral characters with humanity and a life outside the central love story. The devil is in the details of these characters’ lives, whether that’s Anita at church or Tony and María going on a date to the Cloisters in Washington Heights, or the very fact that we see characters take the subway, or the expanded role of shopkeeper Valentina (a reimagined version of the original’s Doc, played by Rita Moreno, who portrayed Anita in 1961) acting as employer and mentor to Tony. In the case of the Puerto Rican characters, the film’s commitment to portraying a more complete picture of their lives extends not only to (thankfully) casting only Latinx actors in these roles, but also to scripting crucial scenes wholly or partly in unsubtitled Spanish — as Spielberg recently told a press conference, “that language had to exist in equal proportions alongside the English with no help.”.
Spielberg’s approach — expanding upon the original without fundamentally changing it — also extends to the musical numbers. Though Spielberg’s well-documented love of the original stage musical and film is evidenced through some loving recreations of the original staging (other than a pointed reference to María’s illegal housing situation, ‘Tonight’ is nearly identical to the iconic 1961 balcony scene), most other numbers are subtly yet meaningfully altered. Rita Moreno’s performance of ‘America’ in 1961 was a musical theatre gateway drug for many, myself included, and in his version Spielberg fortunately doesn’t add gimmick-y detail so excessive as to prevent the score and choreography from speaking for themselves. Nevertheless, having the song performed in a community setting, in a lush period reconstruction of a majority-Latinx New York City street, celebrates Puerto Rican New Yorkers beyond Maria, Anita and Bernardo in a way that the original did not. More radically, Spielberg has Tony rather than Riff (as in the original Broadway musical) or fellow Jet Ice (as in the 1961 film) perform ‘Cool’, a decision so perfect one wonders why no previous production had ever come up with it — a number which felt like a bizarre afterthought in the original film performed by a character who had not previously spoken, is now a raw, desperate attempt on the part of a best friend to prevent further conflict.
Not every attempt at rethinking the staging of the original film’s musical numbers feels necessary, however. The sublime depiction of the universal thrill of first love that is ‘María’, performed by Tony on the way home from his and María’s fateful first meeting, was somewhat ruined by comical, fourth-wall-breaking reaction shots of bemused passers-by; this, alongside the decision to depict Tony as newly released from prison, represented the film’s questionable tendency of sacrificing the idealism and naivety crucial to Tony’s (and Romeo’s) character in favour of strict realism.
The musical numbers mostly work, though, thanks to the laudable decision to cast actors with backgrounds predominantly on the stage (with the exception of Elgort) in most of the leading roles. 20-year-old newcomer Zegler’s expressive soprano is capable of portraying a blend of ingenue charm and teenage defiance that is perfect for the new script’s more rounded version of María. Alvarez and Faist have their gang leader characters’ brutish charisma nailed to an extent that one realises how miscast the original Bernardo and especially Riff (whose vibe in 1961 was strangely wholesome) were. However, it is unfortunately also necessary to mention the allegations of sexual assault made in 2020 against Ansel Elgort; though West Side Story had already wrapped production when the allegations were made public, it is still a shameful oversight on the part of Spielberg and his fellow producers that the film’s trailers, press events and promotional materials have continued to feature the actor prominently.
Despite some flaws onscreen and serious errors of judgment offscreen, Spielberg’s West Side Story reimagines its source material with obvious affection for its predecessor, but also with a new sense of ambition about the iconic story — it is not only a timeless love story, but a snapshot of a moment in history and of the people who lived in that moment.
Social enterprise The Bike Project is on a mission to get refugees cycling across the UK. It is doing so by collecting unwanted and abandoned bikes, fixing them up in their workshop, and donating them to refugees and asylum-seekers who do not have the means or money to travel.
According to the Project’s 2020 Impact Report, the gift of wheels can make a difference to the lives of refugees and asylum-seekers as it helps them complete essential trips, build friendships in local areas, gain a sense of normalcy, improve their physical and emotional wellbeing, and save transportation costs.
A bike would also be a valuable assistance to asylum-seekers because they often have to endure a protracted wait for an asylum decision from the Home Office. During this period they are prohibited to work and only given £39.63 of asylum support per week, amounting to £5.66 a day for food, sanitation, and clothing.
“Right now, the waiting list of refugees who need a bike is growing,” Charlotte Hu, the charity’s Digital Marketing Manager, told Cherwell. “If you’ve received a new bike for Christmas, or are doing a spring clean, why not donate your old bike to a great cause?”
Oxford Direct Services, the City Council’s entity responsible for removing abandoned and un-roadworthy bikes, removes around 400 – 1000 bicycles from public cycle racks every year.
Founded by Jem Stein, a social entrepreneur and qualified bike mechanic who grew up in the city of Oxford, The Bike Project also runs Bike Buddies, a programme that links volunteer cyclists with refugee newcomers to go on social rides together to help improve refugees’ cycling confidence and familiarity of the locality. People can sign up to become a Bike Buddy here.
Prospective bike donors living in Oxford are invited to first register their bike at thebikeproject.co.uk/donate. The organisers will then provide the full address (OX1 4LG) of the drop-off location. The donation drive will run from January 4th – 18th in the new year.
Paper Moon’s latest production, an immersive theatre experience called Cut, Paste, Enter. Took at Modern Art Oxford. Ahead of their opening, Cherwell spoke to Chloe Dootson-Graube (Creative Director), Georgie Dettmer (Director), Grace Olusola (Writer), and Hannah Gallardo-Parsons (Sound Designer) about putting together this exciting new project.
How did the idea for this project first come about?
Georgie: “Chloe and I had worked on Paper Moon’s previous project ‘Spoon River Anthology’ together and we began talking about different ways to bring visual art into performance. From then on we began discussing Chloe’s work, her ideas about TVs, rhinos, and how much we loved Grace Olusola’s writing. I had recently heard about binaural sound and had also recently bumped into the best sound designer (Hannah Gallardo-Parsons) and so it all came together. A few zoom calls later and ‘Cut, Paste, Enter.’ was born!”
Chloe: “As for me, I’ve always been interested in dystopia, and more and more, trying to set up any kind of design based projects in Oxford was beginning to feel more dystopic, so I really wanted to push the boundaries of what you can do in an Oxford theatre space, and give more of a voice to the design team in so doing.”
Grace: “In terms of the writing, the idea for the narrative came from conversations we had about the type of story that could do the experiential nature of the show the most justice. What gives enough room to really let us be creative with sound? Or gives enough for the artist to respond to? We started thinking about the theme of dystopia and I remembered studying documentary as part of my A levels film studies course. In those classes, we spoke about the role of the editor and I was baffled by how powerful, yet silent the editor is. It seemed to link well to the dystopian idea, and the rest kind of came from there!”
How did you find the collaboration of the project?
Chloe: “I think the wonderful thing about collaboration is that everyone truly has a say in every decision made – Grace and I discussed the idea we had extensively before she started writing, and I would contribute what I thought would be good artistically and what she thought would make for dynamic writing.”
Grace: “It’s been really fruitful. Writing with both sound and visuals in mind gave me boundaries that in some ways actually expanded the realms of what I could imagine for the script. Writing with collaboration in mind meant that the script almost felt bigger than itself!”
Hannah: “Yeah, I found that clever collaboration process incredibly open. No one had any big egos, we’re on the same level. And that was that was a truly a truly lovely feeling.”
How did bringing in actors affect this project?
Grace: “They are all so amazing! They have really brought the characters to life, in ways I didn’t even imagine or think about when writing them. At the audition stage, I recommended to Georgie, our wonderful director, that diversity in voices (pitch, accent, inflections) was quite important for the audio elements of the production, and it’s been so great to see how everyone has brought something quite special to their character – especially as there are so many of them!”
Georgie: “Hearing the cast bring so many different interpretations to the script in such a short amount of time just proved (again and again) how talented people are here. Bringing actors into the room forces you to consider the script from new perspectives as well which is refreshing and challenging and exactly what you need when making a production.”
What was your favourite part of the process?
Chloe: “Working with such incredible people and having the space to do something that feels really fresh and free from an artistic standpoint.”
Grace: “It would probably be the first time I heard an early demo, during the recording process. It was the first time I had seen how the script had been interpreted, and there is no joy like knowing that your creativity has inspired creativity in others. This unique theatrical process especially has bred the loveliest ripple effect!”
Hannah: “Building this world together. It’s nice to have a truly collaborative project.”
