The narrator of Robert Harris’s thriller, ‘The Ghost’, has no name. He is only ever referred to as ‘The Ghost’, and the narrative – an international conspiracy surrounding the manuscript for an ex-Prime Minister’s memoir – makes revealing his identity tantamount to a death sentence.
Harris seriously glamorises the figure of the ghostwriter in his novel (and even more so in its 2010 film adaptation, starring Ewan MacGregor as a very sexy Ghost). Ghostwriters do not routinely face death every time they are contracted. Still, there does seem to be something inherently glamorous about the job: perhaps it’s in the high-stakes subterfuge, or maybe it’s a quality that rubs off from celebrity subjects as distinguished as Sir Alex Ferguson, Gwyneth Paltrow and Victoria Beckham, to name a few. Ghostwriting even kickstarted Nas’s career, which took off after he write Will Smith’s 1998 hit, Getting Jiggy Wit It.
Subterfuge, however, doesn’t seem to be of much interest to J. R. Moehringer, Prince Harry’s unconventional ghostwriter. Moehringer confirmed his role in Spare on Twitter, where he retweets those praising his craft. His coy Twitter bio reads, ‘Author of The Tender Bar and Sutton and other stuff’. Having been profiled by everyone from Tatler to the Economist, this Ghost is evidently changing the criteria of what an effective ghostwriter is and does: much like Robert Harris’s invisible Ghost being played by a movie star, Moehringer gives a new meaning to the phrase ‘celebrity ghostwriter’.
Amid allegations of slander in Spare, Moehringer has retweeted a slightly bizarre quote from Harry’s memoir: “Whatever the cause, my memory is my memory… there’s just as much truth in what I remember and how I remember it as there is in so-called objective facts.” Harry talks of his memoir with a sort of post-truth defensiveness which grew uncomfortably familiar during the Trump tenure. However, Harry’s disdain for “so-called objective facts” also reminds us of the ways in which a memoir is fiction. That’s not necessarily to accuse Harry of lying in his memoir, but to underscore the vital role of literary craft in wrestling the awkward shape of a human life into a coherent narrative.
Spare occupies a contentious space between autobiography and biography – between fiction and nonfiction. The reader gets a real sense that Harry wants to use it to provide a counternarrative which will redress the fictions of the British press. Nevertheless, being public about employing a ghostwriter means that the reader is uncannily aware of Prince Harry’s voice in Spare as a manufactured persona which Moehringer adopts. This is a technique familiar from literary fiction, where we can never assume that a narrator is the author themselves. Narrators are instead characterised by their description of events – or rather, their version of events. As Moehringer’s Tweet emphasises, Harry has openly admitted his unreliability as a narrator.
It’s tempting to read Spare in search of the ghostwriter, rather than Harry’s ‘truth’. Catching a glimpse of the author peeking out from behind the mask of character is an ‘Aha!’ moment that feels a lot like figuring out a magician’s trick or spotting a stage’s trapdoor. In Spare, Moehringer concerns himself with this kind of stage magic; he seems most visible in his references to Shakespeare.
Harry readily admits that he’s “not really big on books” in the memoir: he gets confused on his first date with Meghan when she says she’s having an ‘Eat Pray Love’ summer. Spare is quick to capitalise on this early, pre-Meghan image of Harry as the millennial, rugby-playing prince who knew how to party, who calls his friends ‘mate’ and served in the army instead of going to university. The Harry which Spare gives us is once more the universal crush whose unparalleled eligibility spawned its own reality TV show, I Wanna Marry Harry, where twelve American women competed for the affections of a man they thought was the prince. Part of his appeal has always been his lack of academic pretentiousness: the country remembers how Harry only managed to scrape two A levels (a B in Art and a D in Geography, in case you were wondering).
Harry confesses that he struggled to share his father’s love of Shakespeare. “I tried to change,” he insists. “I opened Hamlet. Hmm: Lonely prince, obsessed with dead parent, watches remaining parent fall in love with dead parent’s usurper . . . ? I slammed it shut. No, thank you.”
Harry makes a lot of Shakespearean references for someone who ostensibly slammed Hamlet shut. For starters, there’s the description of Charles’s appearance when he told his sons of Diana’s death: “His white dressing gown made him seem like a ghost in a play”. Ironically, it is Harry who seems most like the iconic ‘ghost in a play’ nowadays; for English readers, Spare works a lot like one of Old Hamlet’s cries of ‘Remember me!’ which echo, disembodied, from somewhere offstage.
As Rebecca Mead’s recent review for The New Yorker points out, it seems that Moehringer has lent Harry the very Shakespearean reference library which he lacks, to great literary effect. Moehringer makes Shakespeare a focal point in Spare; an extended metaphor around which Harry’s difficulties with his father cluster. English cultural heritage and the questions of succession raised by Hamlet morph into Harry’s own uncomfortable inheritance of a royal role which never quite fit him. A visit to Frogmore Gardens in which Harry tries to justify his choice to abandon England and his royal duties is framed in these tragic terms: Harry, William and Charles “were now smack in the middle of the Royal Burial Ground,” Harry describes, “more up to our ankles in bodies than Prince Hamlet.”
Spare casts the drama of monarchy as a Shakespearean tragedy: in the wake of a matriarch’s death, Moehringer draws his reader’s attention, however morbidly, to the fear that monarchy might be a dark system which continues as a direct result of repeating patterns of death and succession. The pages of Spare are thick with ghosts, literary and otherwise.
Like Hamlet, Spare is punctuated by howls of raw grief, even in its most bizarre moments. Harry recalls the very smell of his mother in the Elizabeth Arden cream he uses to treat an unfortunate case of frostbite on his ‘todger’. As ghostwriter, Moehringer ensures that the spectre of Diana casts a long shadow over every page of his memoir. In all earnestness, it is a very moving way to paint a sympathetic portrait of the prince as a boy who never recovered from the loss of his mother. How could he have?
‘Spare’, unfortunately, has more ghosts to offer. However, the narrative spends far more time with the memory of Diana than with the 25 Afghans who Harry admits to killing. It breaks an unspoken military code of conduct to publicly own up to the number of lives one has taken during service; moreover, it betrays a certain callousness about death which has previously been documented in Harry’s 2008 interview with the Press Association, when he compared his military duties to playing PlayStation. Harry is quick to deny the “dangerous lie” that he was boasting about these kills, and protests that his words have been taken out of context. The words are: ‘“So, my number is 25. It’s not a number that fills me with satisfaction, but nor does it embarrass me”. Veterans have argued that he should never have disclosed the number of people he has killed; others may suggest that he never should have killed to begin with.
Moehringer must have foreseen the PR disaster this disclosure would trigger, and the fact that it for many, it stands in the way of a sympathetic reading of Harry’s life. In this, and in several other cases in the book, Moheringer seems to be building up an emphatically warts-and-all portrait of Harry. Perhaps he was following Shakespeare’s guidance: as Hamlet puts it, “He was a man, take him for all in all, / I shall not look upon his like again.” Though imagery of ‘Spare’ is ghostwritten, the confessions, after all, must be Harry’s own. The most polemical moments of ‘Spare’ prompt us to question the ghostwriter’s loyalties, and royalties; as ghostwriter, Moehringer is not acting as Harry’s loyal subject, but instead seems to have prioritised making the book as controversial (and therefore commercially successful) as possible. Again, Moeheringer is carving out a new, less submissive role for the ghostwriter: one who is visible in his text and exploits the gap between author and narrator for his own ends.
It is hard to tell whether Moehringer is part of a growing trend in visibility and remuneration for ghostwriters, and for literary labourers in general. It’s not easy to measure the evolution of a trade where the mark of a job well done is typically the fact that there are no marks left at all. Traditionally, a ghostwriter receives around 33% of a book’s advance, plus royalties; I wonder whether publishing houses would prefer to pay a premium for a ghost’s discretion, or for the services of a public ghost like Moehringer, whose reputation precedes him.The literary translator finds themselves in a similar predicament. The proportion of the market made up of translated books has nearly doubled in 2022, illustrating shifting attitudes to translation and authorship. Perhaps readers are starting to care less about feeling a sense of proximity to the original author’s voice. Take a celebrity translator like Ann Goldstein: her sensitive translations of Elena Ferrante, Primo Levi and Jhumpa Lahiri make up a body of work worth reading in its own right. Goldstein’s prose is a creative achievement just as valuable, you could argue, as the original author’s text.
Moehringer is bringing the profession of ghostwriting out of the shadows, following the model provided by translation, where both collaborators are upfront about their involvement. Like Goldstein, Moehringer is building a personal oeuvre and a literary identity which is separate from his celebrity subjects. The striking similarities between the covers of Spare and Open – Andre Agassi’s memoir, which Moehringer also ghostwrote – demonstrate that Moehringer intends to leave a signature of his own personal style on his works, as a celebrity ghostwriter who is famous in his own right. His Twitter account only confirms this: @JRMoehringer has 13.3K followers and counting. In turning the habitual invisibility of the ghostwriter inside out, Moehringer is a reminder of the literary craft that goes into life-writing; by filling Spare with ghosts and writers, Moehringer gestures towards his craft and ensures the success of his work.
Harry has not quite managed to reclaim his narrative with Spare: all anyone wants to talk about seems to be his frostbitten penis. He has, however, made a lot of people – including himself – considerably wealthier. I’m sure Moehringer has been compensated handsomely.
2) Play structures that are really easy to replicate in your review.
3) Really funny improv.
Improvised audience interaction is mandated in Duncan Macmillan’s script for Every Brilliant Thing, and Aspden deals with it excellently, carrying off extended improv sequences with audience members with impressive humour and skill. Even in instances where the audience members concerned didn’t exactly go where the script led them (for example, on the night I saw it, the audience member chosen to play the protagonist’s partner declining a wedding proposal), she redirected the scene effectively. It is true that the mechanics of these changes were obvious to the audience, but the casual and conversational style of these scenes permits a drawing-back of the curtain; there is no fourth wall to be broken.
4) Convincing and well-timed mood shifts.
5) Innovative Pilch configuration.
For a venue with no set seating configurations, it is surprising how few productions take the leap and put the Pilch in the round. This was absolutely the right show to do it. It is difficult to imagine EBT being staged any other way, as the perambulatory style requires the audience to surround the performer. The audience interaction, too, demands that the audience are able to see each other – this all worked excellently in the Pilch.
6) Audience participation that, on the whole, works well.
7) Plays in the round where the actor makes the most of the space.
8) Intelligent and well-written scripts.
Macmillan’s script skilfully balances humour and seriousness, and conveys with precision the complex emotions the protagonist feels throughout the piece. It is a sensitive exploration of guilt, grief, and self-reflection, and Aspden lets it lead her with grace. The conversational tone and improvised sections allow, however, for slips and pauses in the performance, moments where – for a second – the actor loses their thread before picking it up again. Aspden’s performance contained a few such moments, where she would occasionally forget a word or let the character fall, but the nature of the script transformed them from flaws to quirks, charming the audience with the acknowledgment of performance.
9) Music that adds to, rather than detracts from, the action.
It was primarily illustrative: for example, there is a scene where the protagonist lists various musicians and songs, and a small section is played from each one – this choice was essential in conveying mood to the audience. The script is rather intellectual (requiring knowledge of, for example, Mahler, or The Sorrows of Young Werther), and choosing to illustrate the pieces listed meets the audience on an equal footing. Moreover, it creates a diversity of expression which well matches the patchwork, collage-like aesthetic of the whole production. It is worth mentioning, however, that the musical aspects of audience interaction were some of the more difficult to pull off; if the audience member you have chosen doesn’t happen to know the lyrics of the song you’d like them to sing, you’re in a bit of a difficult situation. This and the construction of the piano from members of the audience, were perhaps the moments where the performance felt least secure, and the inclusion of audience became a hindrance to the storytelling.
10) Excellent comic timing.
11) The ability to do all the heavy lifting in an improv segment.
12) Low-pressure and engaging actor-audience connection.
13) Cosy, relaxed sets that help create a comfortable vibe.
The inclusion in the seating of a mismatched collection of armchairs, beanbags, and cushions, created effectively a relaxed atmosphere and sense of community. The feeling in the Pilch was more akin to that of a welcoming and well-funded JCR than to the austerity of a black-box theatre.
14) Pre-show audience interaction.
15) Well-timed and paced shows.
16) Being able to laugh about harrowing situations.
17) Plays that feel like stand-up comedy in Common Ground.
One of the absolute strengths of this production is that – though certainly innovative in its use of the space it is given – it creates a new space that nevertheless seems familiar. Everything about the production will have been, for each member of the audience, reminiscent of a real-life situation they have been in. This skilfully brings the action and text of the play home to each audience member; not only are we being spoken to directly as an audience, but also as individuals. While this makes some aspects of the script (particularly the protagonist’s advice to not commit suicide, and the explanation of the Samaritans*) sound a little like public service announcements, they nevertheless are extremely impactful. This performance of Every Brilliant Thing may indeed have succeeded where so many productions fail, in that I believe it is likely to have made a lasting impression on every single person who has watched it.
18) Including crew in the action.
19) Working with the script rather than for it.
20) Pretending that 20 is the same as one million as though reviews don’t have word limits (because if they didn’t, we would be here that long).
*The Samaritans are a mental health support charity and helpline, who can be contacted by phone at 116 123 or by email at [email protected]
Oxford, like much of the UK, has experienced the phenomenon of drag over the last few years. The unprecedented success of RuPaul’s Drag Race has allowed a generation of young people to have grown up watching drag, and consequently, many want to try it for themselves. The drag scene in Oxford is a relative unknown for much of the student population here – and this article aims to change that. There is a thriving Drag Scene with performers from both the city and universities alike. Drag and Disorderly at Plush sees a plethora of Drag acts perform, as does Haute Mess at the Bullingdon.
Getting into drag has never been easier in the safe space created by the Oxford LGBTQ+ Society, which hosted a drag cuppers competition last Michaelmas. The two winners of the competition have since performed professionally. And in an exclusive announcement, we can confirm a Drag Ball is actively being organised by the Society. It promises to be a large but relatively low-cost event, tentatively planned to happen at Freud, and will be a fun and stunning celebration of Ballroom culture. There are plans to feature pole dancing, drag queens, dancers, and special talent that will be invited from out of town.
Drag is the queer community’s most visible expression, and its significance cannot be understated. Therefore, it is not without its controversy, even in Oxford. Last August, the County Library in Westgate hosted a Drag Queen Story Hour. The library was closed to the public over security concerns, and police had to separate supporters of the event from those against by fences as the crowds were so large. Leaflets described the drag queen attending the event as “a mentally unwell man”.
So how has this affected Oxford’s drag scene? What is Drag in Oxford really like? Who are the big names? Read on to find out.
Miss Take
Miss Take (she/her), also known as Alfred Dry (he/him) out of drag, tells me she is “the sultry, irreverent teacher of your dreams”. A humorous queen, she “first got into drag as an attempt to bring queer expression and joy into a small little corner of Suffolk. My Catholic school held a talent show in which straight boys often threw on a dress and had a laugh, so I wanted to finally bring some true, informed, celebratory drag to the stage. On the day of the show, I was told that drag is a ‘disrespectful’ art form, and I was not allowed to do it. So now I get into drag to represent a respectable, glorious, and glamorous art form. I also do it because I think I look very pretty. And it’s fun. Really fun.”
“The Oxford Scene has been very welcoming.” Miss Take says. “I have been given some amazing opportunities: I am the first and only drag queen to perform at the Oxford Union, I have been able to write and perform shows in multiple colleges, as well as the den of sin commonly known as Plush, and Miss Take even got the chance to play Madame Arcati in Blithe Spirit. I am beyond grateful for the love and support I have received from the community in Oxford, both queer and straight, and I am particularly grateful for the other drag artists in the city who make every show we do together so enjoyable.”
I ask Miss Take what makes Oxford drag unique: “We are lucky in Oxford to have artists who come from different backgrounds and approach drag from different perspectives. Thus it is difficult to define Oxford Drag as a whole – it is each individual performer that makes Oxford Drag the unique scene it is”.
Miss Take introduces me to some other queens: “We have the wonderful Shroom (@shroomdraguk) who can dance, sew, and perform comedy with ease. She is talented beyond belief and for that I despise her”. Rusty Kate (@rustykatedrag) is an Oxford staple who can sing, smoke and drink all at the same time! I have performed the most with her and I’m still trying to get the smell out of my wig. Londyn (@theellondyn) is the most stunning person on the planet and she could stand there and do nothing yet still be the most mesmerising performer of the night. Izzy Single (@izzysingle.drag) is one of our sexiest drag kings and listening to him sing makes me want to change my name from Miss Take to Mrs Single. Eura Freak (@eurafreakdrag) is another divine drag king who owns any space lucky enough to have him. Then, of course, you have the most beautiful, talented one of all: Miss Take, who has just been awarded Ofsted’s ‘Sexiest Teacher in the Universe’ for the fifth year running (@misstakeofficial). Each of these entertainers brings something different, and I hope the community continues to grow and diversify.”
Bad B
Bad B (she/her), one of the winners of Drag Cuppers, is next. She told me her experience was very rushed: “I made the last-minute decision only an hour before the event actually started to take part.” But after the support of her ‘super encouraging friends and the other competitors, her performance “went down super well with the judges and the crowd”.
Bad B opens up to share her motives for getting into Drag. “I’m a pansexual woman and I never truly felt at peace with my sexuality and my identity as a queer woman. I felt biphobia, like I was a “fake” or that I didn’t belong in queer spaces”. Getting in drag and performing for the first time was “a life changer” for her. “I finally felt valid in my expression as a queer artist and felt the acceptance and love of everyone in the room”.
Drag has always been an interest of Bad B’s. “I started watching Drag Race when Season 5 was airing and I had a family friend that did drag when I was younger. I even performed for her at a local drag competition in my home town. I was really into makeup growing up as a teen with acne and even started doing prom makeup on the side during secondary school to earn a bit of extra cash.
“I’ve been a dancer all my life and sadly had to take a step back when I was diagnosed with my chronic health condition. When I started university I gradually began dancing again and discovered I could take up space as a disabled dancer. Dancing and Expressing myself through the art form has massively helped my mental health and been a release for me. I performed for the first time in heels in Hilary 2022 and that really helped me transition into drag.
“Oxford drag is unique to me in the sense that all of the artists I’ve met have been really authentic to themselves and their drag personas”.
She tells me her advice for someone wanting to get into drag is “Don’t be scared!”. “ Watch some makeup videos of queens you admire, buy a glue stick and practise! Ask your friends or reach out to any local queens if you need any advice or to borrow anything. The queer community at Oxford is so welcoming so it’s the perfect place to start. Drag cuppers are a fantastic place to start without feeling too overwhelmed. I’m really grateful to the OULGBTQ+ Society for organising and continuing to run such inclusive and exciting events.”
Bad B adds that “All of my experiences in oxford have been super positive and everyone has been really respectful.” However “as an afab [assigned female at birth] queen I’ve been asked personal questions about my genitalia and I’ve been told that what I do ‘isn’t real drag’”. Furthermore, “Consent is also a bit of an issue in the drag community. Some audience members think that it is ok to touch performers, especially in ‘sexual’ areas.”
Danny Issues
Danny Issues (he/him), known out of drag as Ruby Firth (she/they) is the first drag king on our list. He tells me “I’m very lucky in that my experience growing up queer has been generally a positive one. I can remember watching my first episodes of RuPaul’s Drag Race with my mum, and I didn’t have to have a terrifying ‘coming out’ moment with the people that mattered – they just gradually realised what was up!”
“However,” Danny is keen to emphasise, “I’m very much not a performer by nature, so getting into drag was a scary concept to me. I entered into Drag Cuppers on a whim. But as your classic high-strung Oxford student, I couldn’t just do things halfway: I had to put in FULL effort. This involved at least half a bottle of hair gel and at least an hour spent working out how to do my makeup and bind my chest! (And also I somehow came out with a fully conceptualised character. I think it’s my law student brain crying out for some creativity…)”
Danny tells me that his “overarching thought about drag in Oxford is one of immense gratitude. As a person with a generally anxious disposition, I have been pretty intimidated from the start. But everyone has made me feel so welcome, and I am learning so much! Drag in Oxford is genuinely open to everyone – if you want to get involved, it really can be as easy as just getting in touch with a performer you like!”
Rusty Kate (she/her) is perhaps one of the most well-known Queens in the student scene having been a columnist for Cherwell, and an avid performer. In a bout of quick wit she tells me “Rusty started as a cure for a very serious chronic condition I had as a slowly ageing twink in Oxford: I wanted more attention. There’s something about a crowd screaming for you that fills me with more serotonin than a father’s love could ever provide. What once was a busted princess lip syncing to Toxic by Britney Spears is now Rusty Kate: a busted grandma singing Toxic by Britney Spears”. Rusty’s success is unquestionable: “In the last two years, I’ve rusticated and have now gone into drag as a full-time business. I travel all around the country doing shows wherever will take me, from club nights to prides, one-woman comedy shows to campy bingo calling. I love what I do, and I’m so lucky to have made a viable career for myself in the arts.”
Rusty loves the Oxford scene as it “has quite a bit of variety for such a small scene”. “I’d say what makes Oxford drag unique for me is the types of jokes I can make. I can toe the line on sensitive topics and make niche political commentary that just wouldn’t land if I was around a load of middle-aged Tories in a small town in the Midlands. It’s the student crowd that are so supportive of the art that really inspires the next generation of Oxford Kings and Queens to don their wigs.”
Shroom
Shroom (she/they) has a very bubbly personality. They described themselves as an “aggressively passionate vegan” who studies Maths and Philosophy. “It was inevitable for me to get into drag” she said, “when I was younger I made people sit down and watch me lip sync to songs.” Shroom told me in a “juicy scoop” that she realised she was gay at age 10 “sat on the toilet wiping my ass. But I thought I can’t be gay – I’m not Ellen De Generes – I don’t have a pixie cut – how can I be a dyke?”.
After getting into [RuPaul’s] Drag Race at age 12 Shroom said “I always knew I wanted to do it. I had to wait till I came to uni. And then it was just a matter of time before Shroom was born. I started in the bedroom, just like practising face makeup and making my partner at the time watch an extortionist amount on lipsyncs.” Shroom reached out to the “girlies” at Drag and Disorderly who she “plugs all the way” and they agreed to add her on to their Plush nights. “And then from there, it just spiralled into the insanity that it is so cool.”
“In terms of performance, my drag is high energy, fun, and also silly. I love it. I love doing a comedy number. I love a fierce lipsync. I’m currently working on a number at the moment to turn the friggin frogs gay.” Shroom says her aim is to “try and be very like inclusive, warm, friendly. Little bit sexy. And funny.”
Shroom talks openly about her experiences being female-presenting in the typically male-dominated drag scene. “I was very aware of it at the beginning. I thought I had to wear nails to every gig. Part of the reason why my makeup is so exaggerated is because I was like, ‘Well, I can’t just look like me and makeup’ – I have to clearly be in drag. I wore heavy padding and stuff like that.” But Shroom goes on to say that “as time has gone on, like, now I literally don’t think about it that much. It’s just like another part of it. I do face some bullshit – people will tell me I’m not a drag queen – And I’ll be stood there in full wig with fake eyelashes glued to my face looking like a very intense sexy clown or strange alien stripper. Tell me what I am then, if it’s not drag?”.
Shroom has experienced some “gross” things said to her by non-Oxford queens too, mainly because of her gender identity. However, Shroom says Oxford Drag “feels very much like a family.” “Everyone’s super supportive, we always gossip.” The biggest challenge Shroom says is that “You have to be funny to survive. Because we all just make such fun of each other. Like, the reading is really knee deep, and intense. So sometimes I’m like, oh my god I’m really draining my last bit of wit to try and keep up but it’s the best.”
Salmonella
Salmonella, AKA Acid Sally (they/them) is a drag performer, host, DJ, and founder of Haute Mess, “Oxford’s longest running and premier drag pigsty disco dance party”. Salmonella tells me “When I started going out and dressing up in Oxford there weren’t many people doing drag or dressing up to clubs, and my clubbing experience started to feel homogenised and judgemental”. Therefore, “Haute Mess started because we wanted to give ourselves and others a space to express themselves without judgement, experiment with dressing up and gender performance, to be messy, and to be vulnerable without any judgement. Through Haute Mess we’ve given dozens of performers from all around the country, as well as many Oxford students and locals a stage to express themselves.”
Contrary to many other performers, Salmonella believes “there has always been an unnecessary divide between local and student performers, potentially due to the lack of support from students for non-student events and performers, and many student events being hosted on weekdays making it harder for non-students to attend or perform. Especially since returning to in-person studying after the COVID lockdowns it seems like there are far fewer people wanting to experiment with drag and seek performance opportunities, and this may be largely in part due to the saturation and RuPaulification of drag”. They added that “in my opinion, a lot of the charm of drag comes from the rough around the edges, messy, sweaty imperfections. The unrealistic standard of drag to aspire to a homogenised depiction of drag as synonymous with female impersonation, and the lack of transgressive and politically engaged drag all around has made drag much more sanitised, which is damaging to the performer community, and especially POC performers, AFAB performers, drag kings, and those seeking to explore less crowd-pleasing themes through their performance.”
Donna Marcus Duke
Donna Marcus Duke (they/them) jovially tells me that “I’m going to show my age here, but I started doing drag in about 2014/2015 before I came to Oxford. I’d been hosting fancy dress parties since I was 15 and they were forever an excuse to experiment with my presentation. I kept it up when I came to Oxford, with bops, in particular, offering a fortnightly opportunity to create new looks — albeit low-budget and DIY, but that’s where the fun and creativity lay.”
“At the end of my first year, I met Salmonella, one of the only other students doing drag at the time. We bemoaned the lack of intentionally queer spaces in the city — for as amazing as Plush was, their nights weren’t exactly havens for queer, trans and gender non-conforming folk.” Donna tells me that “A few student groups were experimenting in university theatre spaces, and Ginger Tarte began Oxphwoard — a queer/drag cabaret event at The Bullingdon”. But that “Salmonella and I wanted something more nightlife orientated…So, we started Haute Mess in 2016 as a way to develop an alternative nightlife scene in the city (but mainly also to be able to give ourselves gigs lol). Somehow, it’s kept on going and here we are in 2023 still slogging away.”
After coming up on the scene as a student Donna tells me they found that “the student body in Oxford is fabulously political, and it was a generative (if not brutal) place to come up as a drag queen.” Recalling a Wadham roundtable in 2017 where “the compatibility of drag and trans issues was discussed. Though it was a tricky conversation for all involved, it was a testament to the nuanced politics the scene held at the time and was incredibly beneficial in helping us hone our own politics and code of conduct in drag.”
Donna tells me that “In Oxford, we [drag performers] are very lucky.” What makes Oxford stand out for them is the crowd: “Since graduating I’ve been touring around the UK and Europe, and honestly no crowd is more generous, more excitable and more grateful than the Oxford crowd.” This reputation is being noticed amongst outside performers “as one of the most enjoyable to perform to”. For Donna this is important as “Drag is such a community-orientated creative practice” and a performer is “only as good as the scene that supports them.” In Oxford “there is a bit of a DIY element as the core of Oxford drag — but that also just might be me”. In Iconic words, Donna says “In the face of the city’s grandeur, it’s so tempting to run around looking like shit.”
Scarlett Von Kok
Scarlett Von Kok (she/her) has been “gracing the scene of the south for 6 years now from burlesque shows to theatre shows and club gigs”. She tells me “she does it all!” Starting in musical theatre, she chose a career in drag as a way to use the skills she learned. “So, after some soul searching and an online name generator the iconic “Scarlett Von Kok” or “SVK” was born.”
In Oxford, Scarlett is helping lead ‘The Oxfordshire Drag Collective’ – an Oxfordshire-based drag group that produces shows for both established and upcoming artists. Scarlett herself joined the collective to collaborate with local artists and work in a queer team to bring drag to Oxford, an area she described as with “potential but not many gaping opportunities”.
Scarlett tells me, “I love how the scene is gradually growing as it is full of a wide variety of electric performers and is very welcoming, meaning audiences love to participate and so always leave having a good time.” Looking to the future Scarlett hopes that “the future of the Oxford scene is as colourful as it is now and that it becomes a staple of queer life in Oxford”.
Londyn
Londyn (she/her) is the last Queen on our list. She tells me “I am definitely a part of generation Ru, so drag has always been an interest of mine,” adding, “so I started about a year ago in February at the wonderful club, Plush. They very much welcomed me into their circle, and I did my first number at their Drag and Disorderly show, Where I’ve just been booked since.” For Londyn this has been a personal journey as “Starting drag also helped me realise I am a trans woman.
For Londyn “The drag scene in Oxford is definitely nowhere near as big as somewhere like London or Brighton but it’s definitely blossoming with all the new shows coming out, and loads of new drag artists starting out – it’s lovely seeing Oxford’s drag scene grow into something amazing!”
Although not a Drag performer himself, Jake Hall (he/him) is an important figure on the drag scene. He is an ex-Brookes student who started doing Oxford uni events in 2016 working with various clubs in Oxford. “Pre-pandemic, I used to run a Drag Karaoke night at the nightclub Cirkus on Sundays [now closed].” Jake told me. “I started running Drag & Disorderly at Plush in Oxford with Drag Queen Felicity Suxwell, hosting table service after pandemic restrictions were [partially] lifted. We found there were a lot of students and locals wanting to start drag, but not knowing where to begin.” When asked about Oxford’s scene, Jake says “The biggest difference between drag in Oxford and elsewhere is inclusivity. This is shown in the attitude of each of the established performers by helping to introduce new performers into the world of drag. From what I’ve seen in other towns and cities, there is a more extreme scene where acts are fighting each other for gigs and stealing them from one another. Here in Oxford, especially with the Drag & Disorderly queens, there’s more support within the industry, making it more welcoming.”
I asked all the drag artists about their perception of the drag scene in general. Firstly to attain whether there was a divide between university and resident performers. Miss Take said “There has never been a divide between us, and I am proud to be a part of such an uplifting family of performers”. Adding that “A hierarchy exists only because some of us wear higher heels than others”.Bad B says “There is a real sense of sisterhood and I always felt respected, even when competing for the first time in drag.” Jake Hall says the supportive atmosphere of the Oxford scene “ has led to there being no division between the local and student acts. The only major difference between the two is availability as students have coursework as a priority and many of them go home over the breaks. Despite this, we have managed to even book them gigs when they return to their hometowns!” Shroom says “Regarding Town people its mostly just felicity really – she was doing drag before an Oxford drag scene – and I consider her a veteran even though she is 23 – literally our age – we all have a level of respect for her.”
I asked all the drag artists about the perception that Oxford’s drag scene has a smaller profile than other university cities.
Bad B said that “Compared to larger cities like London and Manchester the drag scene is smaller in Oxford but it is larger than other cities like my home town. The oxford drag scene is only getting bigger, especially thanks to the work done by Rusty Kate, Blues Events and the Drag and Disorderly brand. I think there’s a really exciting future for the oxford drag scene so watch this space.” She adds “it seems like a really organic scene which has developed with the expression of oxford’s gay population.” Miss Take imparts some wisdom with her response: “Drag takes time. Time to learn how to do your makeup, time to build a persona, and time to construct and perfect a show. Oxford holds two universities and many of the student population simply do not have the time to devote to drag. I am lucky to have the most incredible, supportive family at home, and I really honed my craft over lockdown… If you are thinking of getting in drag for the first time at university, it is more difficult to find the time to do so. But I encourage you to try! It’s fun. Who needs a degree when your visage is this snatched?” Danny Issues is positive “Oxford is a small city, and let’s be honest it’s not the number one destination for nightlife – so I’d say its drag scene is pretty impressive in the circumstances! There is some real talent based in Oxford – performers who travel across the country. Let’s give Oxford the credit it deserves!” Rusty tells me to “look at the state of the Oxford drag scene five years ago – where was it? There was next to nothing going on, and now there are so many different drag events all competing for attention in a tiny city.” Rusty understands the complexities of a student drag scene with limited term-time and that “All too often, being a student doesn’t provide the luxuries of time and money to get started. (Unless you fob off your degree and wear charity shop dresses like me).”
Following the Westgate protest I wondered if there were any ramifications on the scene in Oxford. “Not even remotely” said Donna. Jake Hall told me “a number of acts and I were in attendance [at Westgate] counter-protesting in support of the story time. This hasn’t necessarily negatively impacted what we do. If anything, we had more venues contact us in support and want to start working with our drag performers.” However, Miss Take says “These kinds of protests influence every drag artist’s work. It is easy to get comfortable performing in queer spaces and forget there is still a world out there which does not understand, accept or tolerate diversity.” Adding “It’s important for children to be informed about drag; expressing who you are, however, you are, is not something to be ashamed of. Drag is not to be hidden away, but instead made accessible and enjoyed as a diverse community. On that note, I am a teacher, and I will leave you with my most important lesson: love who you are, but love me more!” Danny Issues disclosed that “The only negative experience I’ve had is… confusion? I think particularly drag kings (rather than queens) have not been given much of a platform in the past – so people don’t always quite know how to react to Danny!” Rusty Kate is candid: ”Honestly, at the time we were terrified. We want to do what we do and feel safe but had a constant worry. I thought about toning down some of the things I do. I thought about how I justified the raunchier parts of the show. Then I thought, why on earth am I doing this? The political landscape in this country is down the shitter, granted. The last thing we should do is hide – we should be more visible than ever. Just not in daylight. Drag Queens don’t look good in daylight.”
The overarching theme of this article and throughout my encounters with Oxford’s drag artists is that this community is very special because of its supportive and kind members. As Shroom told me “The selling point of Oxford Drag is that it is so tightknit which allows for the family vibes.” It exists in an “In-between space” very different from. London drag where “weird acts are reserved for weird clubs.” In Oxford “I can go from fierce lipsync to then licking cream off myself”. Her description of the scene as a vibrant “Mixing pot” is spot on. As Miss Take said, “It is wonderful to meet other entertainers and learn from how they express themselves”. Bad B is grateful for the warm welcome commenting “I really owe my great experience so far to all of the drag artists who have shown me kindness.” Danny Issues says “I think with Oxford, the special breed of students we have here makes both audiences and performers understand each other a little more. And whilst Oxford is a small city, it also means the community is pretty tight-knit and safe!” He adds “Audiences in queer spaces have been nothing but lovely whilst I’m very much learning on the job!”
Drag performers rely on people “turning up to support their girlies” as Shroom put it. She encouraged the girls and the gays to turn out in force to support their shows, buy the performers drinks, and give a generous tip – a process which is sure to be fun based on Shroom’s description of it to me. According to Bad B “There are a bunch of exciting drag events coming up this term and in the future. If you want to find out more follow queens on Instagram when you watch our shows.” The Drag and Disorderly Facebook page has information about upcoming performances, the next being on 19th February at Plush. You can catch Jake Hall’s “fabulous drag performers” every Tuesday at the City Arms for a drag quiz. And keep a look out for any extra events – including the famed Drag Brunch – coming up in the future. Oxford Drag Collective at The Old Fire Station also run events. Haute Mess at The Bullingdon “holds stinky sweaty club nights throughout the year” (Donna’s words not mine). They tell me “The next one on 2nd March will be our annual competition, Oxford’s Next Top Mess, where we’ll be crown the city’s messiest newbie. You can find tickets on our instagram@hautemessparty ” Outside nightlife, Shroom is launching a podcast of 20-minute soundbites of chatting – found through her LinkTree. Judging by our conversation it will be a lot of fun. Rusty also has a radio show on Oxide Radio called ‘Wine Drunk’.
Many thanks to all the Drag performers for their time and comments. Shroom @shroomdraguk Bad B @_brodiebrain Danny Issues @itsdannyissues Rusty Kate @rustykatedrag Miss Take @misstakeofficial Salmonella @salmonella.zip Donna Marcus Duke @donna.the.first Scarlett Von Kok @scarlettvonkokofficial Londyn @theellondyn
Researchers from Oxford University have warned members of parliament that artificial intelligence (AI) could “kill everyone.” In an ordered inquiry by the Science and Technology Committee of the House of Commons, the Oxford researchers Michael Osborne and Michael Cohen, as well as Katherine Holden and Manish Patel from companies that deal with AI, spoke on its potential dangers and the import of its proper governance.
Osbourne has argued that over-reliance on AI is something that could carry humans into a new age of technological marvels and progress, leading to a phenomenon which he described as “bionic duckweed”. The professor noted that it leads to complacency, with people assuming the problems of the present will be solved in the all-too-murky future, and assuming a utopian version of AI that simply does not exist, as it is “meeting the goals we say, not the goals we want.”
Osborne was also quick to point out the various properties of AI that lend itself towards superhuman capabilities, namely in that of a capitalist economy that prioritises production. “AI can work 24/7, and it does not get distracted […] AI is scalable to a degree that humans are not.” The fundamental fear during the inquiry seemed to be what happens when an all-powerful artificial intelligence begins to decide for itself what it wants to do, calling forth images of Skynet from the Terminator series, or HAL 9000 from 2001: A Space Odyssey.
One member of parliament, Aaron Bell, voiced some skepticism at Osborne’s declaration of doomsday if AI was allowed to proliferate unchecked, asking “how realistic [did Osborne] think the bleak vision is?” Osborne replied decisively, comparing AI to nuclear weapons in power, and warning against potential arms races that could begin between countries trying to build the most AI, which Osborne noted was a “military technology” that could be used to control drones and kill combatants independently of any human intervention. “You do not just want to have a human dummy rubber-stamping decisions made by an AI…,” Osborne said.
But in voicing an actual timeline between the relatively faulty models of AI present today and the generative, transformative versions seemingly afforded by the future, both Cohen and Osborne were reluctant to give any firm timetables. Cohen related a story of Ernest Rutherford proclaiming that nuclear energy was impossible, only for it to be achieved less than 24 hours later. “It might look a lot like it does today months before [an AI paradigm shift]. Technological progress often comes in bursts.”
Entertaining Mr Sloane, a satire from 1964, pits a status-obsessed brother, Ed (Tomás Sergeant), against his lonely, housewife sister, Kath (Maisie Lambert), in their common pursuit of the smooth, muscular Sloane (Am Wyckoff), a young ruffian looking for a room. The entire play takes place in the house where Kath lives with her father, Kemp (Eric Balonwu), who is old, grumpy, and, eventually, murdered. Kath’s Freudian, mothering lust is pitted against Ed’s sleazy, predatory charm, but in the end they both come out on top (of Sloane).Yet what Orton said he ‘wanted to do in Sloane was to break down all the sexual compartments that people have’ and complained that “when Sloane had been running for a while, it had got into compartments, so that Madge (Ryan) was the nympho, Peter (Vaughan) was the queer and Dudley (Sutton) was the psycho.” Orton’s mastery is not to reduce these characters to various neuroses, but rather to offer moral emptiness and a biting indictment of respectability across the board. Brook’s production moved between playing the world for laughs and playing it real enough that the audience was left with lingering unease.
Maisie Lambert as Kath was superb, shifting between bullying daughter, smothering mother, and horny housewife by turn – though the bellowing offstage was ferocious in the round. Tomás Sergeant’s Ed had a repressed, careful sleaze which balanced perfectly with Lambert, but could occasionally have played up his breathless delight at Sloane’s weightlifting habits. Eric Balonwu’s Kemp was suitably the ‘straight man’; morally mediocre rather than excessively perverse and punished for it. Sloane’s character is a difficult one: Dudley Sutton, the first actor to take the role, described Sloane as a ‘lumpen’, a ‘nothing’ concerned only with serving himself. Am Wyckoff’s rendition was reptilian and threatening. The joy of Orton is to see the perverse presented as if it were the normal, like an epigram that sounds familiar but upturns and satirises common wisdom. As Orton said, there must be with ‘no attempt in fact to match the author’s extravagance of dialogue with extravagance of direction’. In Sloane’s climactic monologue, the directorial decision to have Sloane crouched and gesticulating wildly atop a chair went somewhat to extravagance. Still, it was exciting.
The first two acts were played back-to-back, marked in the script by a time jump from Sloane’s introduction to the household to ‘some months later’. Brook added a dumb show to cover the months between. Colourful lights lit the stage and loud music blared whilst the actors played a silent melodramatic charade: Sloane kicking Kemp’s chair, Ed coming to speak to Kemp, and Kath and Ed ducking behind Sloane’s back to kiss each other. These mimes felt like an incongruous addition to Orton’s heavily verbal play. The third act featured Orton’s slow reveal of the collusion of all the remaining characters following their base instincts of greed, lust, and self-preservation. It was wonderful. The play ended with Lambert and Sergeant negotiating their ‘partnership’ in a mockery and perversion of the various nuclear family roles. It was a masterful third act, and the audience looked impressed.
Orton is one of Britain’s finest playwrights. His work catches the audience unaware with syntax that sounds familiar and then punches them with revelations of greed, sleaze, and selfishness beneath the theatre of respectability. Modern critics have tried to interpret him as a forerunner of sexual liberation; I prefer to see him as satirising public performances of morality that is privately lacking. An Exciting New’s production staged him admirably, and it was a joy to see.
On the 16th of January 2023, Messina Denaro – widely regarded as the boss of all bosses within the Italian Mafia – was arrested. This prompted worldwide media interest, with articles from overseas newspapers detailing Messina Denaro’s lifestyle and crimes. This was not my father. The title is clickbait, but it does provide an example of how easy it is for the romanticisation of the Mafia (like the daily routine of a Mafia first daughter) to be eye-catching and interesting. More appealing, perhaps, than articles describing the terrible reality of organised crime. This phenomenon is incredibly widespread, and incredibly dangerous.
Mafia bosses – especially Italian and often Russian – with sleek black hair and deep, entrancing, dark eyes are romanticised on virtually any media platform. In 2020 the movie “365 days”, in which the main love interest is brooding Mafia boss Massimo, made headlines. Admittedly, not because its plot dealt with organised crime but because of its sex scenes. However, the fact that crime can so easily be romanticised as a “dangerous, dark and mysterious” trope is scary to say the least. The hashtag “Mafia boss” on Wattpad, a website that allows users to post their own stories/fanfics, has more than 1.2k adherents. Some of the most common hashtags associated with this are “Mafia princess”, “bad boy” and “guns”. When searching “Mafia” on Google, the first suggestions are Mafia game, Mafia movie, and Mafia boss. It has even been discovered that Messina Denaro himself had The Godfather posters in his apartment. Messina Denaro romanticised his own criminal involvement. Clearly, this is a widespread phenomenon. However, why is it so dangerous?
According to James Finckenauher, professor at Rutgers University and author of “Mafia and organised crime: a beginner’s guide”, the phenomenon began in the 20s in the US due to Prohibition. Small criminal groups controlled underground alcohol sales and became wide-scale international organisations. In a time of repression forced by authorities they were seen as triumphant, well-off figures who mocked the oppressive political system.
In his book La increíble hazaña de ser mexicano, author Heriberto Yépez wrote that the key to the making of a criminal was an authoritarian environment, repression and constant criticism from a young age. Lack of areas to excel in due to this upbringing encourage one to seek respect and excellence in criminal activity. For the US working class the mafiosi became a sort of role model for success in an environment that otherwise repressed them. Books like Mario Puzo’s The Godfather, first published in 1969, fed this fascination until the glamorous image of the Mafia became embedded in pop culture. But in reality, mafiosi profit from human trafficking, murder, extortion, fraud, and other terrible crimes. Glamorisation creates numbness to the harsh reality of these crimes.
Last July an innocent handyman from Naples, Antimo Imperatore, was murdered by the Camorra1 while walking out of a client’s house. Anti-mafia magistrates, lawyers or policemen receive death threats whenever they try to oppose mafia rackets. Overt romanticisation or the creation of stereotypes regarding these criminals can also increase the hatred against the cultures most closely associated with the mafia. For example, in 1891 11 Italian-Americans were lynched in New Orleans due to rising anti-Italian sentiment in the US due to fear of organised crime. Or again, anti-Slavic rhetoric often focuses on the mafia-style corruption often associated with Slavic countries. Obviously, these stereotypes do have a historical basis, but can not be generalised.
That being said, it is really hard to detach oneself from such widely-held stereotypes. I chose to talk about the glamorisation of the mafia, but it can also be hard to detach oneself from other societally embedded prejudices regarding anything from gender and sexuality to race and culture. However, while stereotypes can not be entirely erased, the case study of the mafia teaches us that they can be challenged. Rather than chastising yourself for the stereotypes you carry with you and moving on, spend some time researching and understanding the topics that you make assumptions about.
For example, in a study on the implications of media portrayals of crime and the criminalisation of the African American man M. B. Oliver, a Penn State professor, found that repetitive exposure to images of black men as criminals made the American public more likely to internalise this stereotype. Maybe you think it is indeed true that African American men are more prone to criminal activity than white American men? Look up the statistics, read about the implications of racial profiling and socioeconomic backgrounds. Or again, there are people who do not believe that bisexuality exists. Do you think that this is true? Look up the scientific studies backing its existence. Finally, you think people from criminal organisation-ridden countries are all corrupt? Look up how criminal organisations work and their effects on the public. Stereotypes are a form of misinformation, and information and data is so easily accessible nowadays that a simple Google search can help re-educate our prejudice.
Around this time a year ago, I wrote my first article for Cherwell. I’m not writing this to be narcissistic – why would anyone reading this care that this is my Cherwell-versary? But in that article, in the middle of Hilary term, I wrote about burnout at Oxford and the relation between this and meritocracy. Much of what I wrote back then still stands, as I write now in my final Hilary at Oxford.
Something about Hilary term feels, to me, grey. Michaelmas is sweet in post-summer glory – the arms of friends and the dreaming spires a warm welcome back after a long break. As the weather gets colder in Michaelmas, Oxford still remains beautiful and unchanging. Walking through Christ Church Meadows, you can feel the seasons change – one day, orange leaves crunch underfoot, and the next, the Isis is frozen over. There is, too, a particular cosiness to Michaelmas term. With the increasing cold and dark comes the switching on of Christmas lights, and the luxury of Oxmas dinners and Christmas parties.
Can you tell I tend to romanticise? No university term, Oxford or elsewhere, is perfect. Between sparky Michaelmas memories were plenty of essays and hours spent in the library – which feels a fitting transition to describe Hilary. As I mentioned earlier, Hilary embodies grey. There are no seasonal transitions – so far it has been cold seemingly every day – and nothing to look forward to at the end. There’s no JCR-funded Christmas Party, just my dissertation deadline (poor me).
It was this feeling, the constant working to fulfil goals that are slightly out of reach, just to do the same again the following week. This is the essence of Hilary: that my friends and I joke that we are living a St Peter’s variant of ‘groundhog day’, unaware of date, time, week, just living the same day on repeat. When it’s cold, you have two essays to write, and nothing to look forward to, term can feel boring and painfully monotonous. This is why I wrote a year ago, that, ‘everyone feels like we are pushing and pushing for a non-existent, unreachable goal’.
Working to such a high standard, and constant tight deadlines, as we do in Oxford, is hard with little reward. Hilary feels like there is no end in sight.
However, a year later, my perspective is a little different. Perhaps this is my romantic finalist mindset – the awareness that this isn’t an experience I am going to have forever – but I do now believe that there is a slight comfort that can be found in a repetitive and monotonous Hilary. I try my best to soak in the joy I feel on the walk to the library with friends, and in the chaos of a post-Bridge debrief (despite feeling like one of the oldest people in the club).
This is, of course, idealistic. Romanticising moments of Hilary is redundant if you actually feel unhappy, which is an entirely fair thing to feel. If this is the case, reach out to welfare services either through college or the University more widely.
I have found, though, that focusing on these little moments of joy among the bleakness of Hilary does make it a little less grey. Whilst it is easy to miss the cosiness of Michaelmas, and look forward to the sunny days of Port Meadow and picnics in Trinity, grounding yourself in a little appreciation does not hurt.
A slight disclaimer before I begin: I wish I didn’t have to write this. I wish my fellow community members and I could live without additional complexities, barriers to jump and hurdles to cross. I wish that my sexuality could remain just a part of me, and not my defining feature as society continues to force it to be. So with that:
When I paid my £250 for membership I expected to hear world-class speakers, be immersed in a diverse and vibrant events calendar, and experience a part of Oxford that I believed was integral to my Oxford experience.
What I didn’t expect – rather naively, I have come to believe – is for my rights to be up for debate. I didn’t think it was a debate still being had. Not in the Oxford Union. A secular space free from the bounds of regressive forms of religion that persecute those their saviour is bound to love. Jesus loves. Homophobes don’t.
Quite why the Union sees giving a platform to the institution most opposed and hellbent on restricting to free speech in the form of dissent to promoting the concept is baffling.
My issue is with the debate motion ‘This House Supports Same-Sex Marriage in the Church’. What does the committee expect from this motion? A fairytale accolade when everyone lives happily ever after and reaches a conclusion that solves the problems the church has been in turmoil over for centuries? I can’t imagine anything remotely positive will come from giving a platform to those who are so bothered by their own celibacy that they feel their time is best spent preventing those who love from doing so. It’s not an intellectual exercise, it’s people’s lives. And indeed it didn’t.
If we look at the church, its supposedly liberal image is a mirage disguising a bed of hatred. The Archbishop of Canterbury – the person who is given the right to broadcast a Christmas Message every year on the publicly funded BBC, called gay sex a sin last summer. So, I can imagine that his views on same-sex marriage will not be the most productive.
If we look at the announced opposition, one member Dr Ian Paul, is at the college of St Johns. How are those members of that college going to react to a senior figure parroting hatred? His beliefs extend far beyond same-sex marriage. His blog psephzio has an entire page dedicated to sexuality – placed more prominently than Biblical Studies and Life & Ministry. Here he espouses his disdain for those who see LGBTQ+ lifestyles as ‘legitimate’ and who want to shift the church’s view ‘in relation to the appropriate pattern of sexual relationship’.
Paul says ‘Biblically, the witness of Scripture is uniform in its negative moral judgement of same-sex sexual behaviour but in places permissive of divorce.’ Yet there is not a single mention of homosexuality in the bible – nor any homophobia – until the King James I Bible was released. The decision of one monk in charge of being a translator has led to historical ramifications on an unprecedented scale. But what I hope anyone does not let Ian know, for his sanity’s sake, is that King James I was…not exactly straight. Historical records have documented his relationships with both men and women, and proven he was most likely bisexual. A BBC Scotland documentary by historian Emma Dabiri, said ‘it’s no surprise that James was gay or bisexual — as his letters to George Villiers confirm, the two were in an intimate relationship.’ James was well known to have male ‘favourites’ as one courtier said that ‘I never yet saw any fond husband make so much or so great dalliance over his beautiful spouse as I have seen King James over his favourites, especially the Duke of Buckingham.’ It is rather ironic that Paul’s comments on divorce were soon after he got a new boss – King Charles III who is divorced and remarried. Perhaps much bolder in the bible than any discussion of homosexuality is Malachi 2:16: “I hate divorce, says the LORD God of Israel.”
Biblical Authors were writing at a time when sexual orientation was not understood. This means that any Christian arguments opposing continued opposition toward same-sex relationships and LGBTQ+ identities must be based on something other than these biblical texts.
Ian calls marriage the tip of the ‘sexual revolution iceberg’ claiming ‘I don’t think it is really possible to separate attitudes to gay marriage from these wider themes’. Paul uses an aggrieved tone to describe how ‘The church is then being called to shift its understanding and teaching, including in relation to the appropriate pattern of sexual relationship’. He understands past negative attitudes to homosexuality in the church as ‘due to church teaching and an understanding of sexual ethics and what patterns of behaviour fall into the category of sexual immorality (porneia) against which Scripture constantly warns’. These claims are found in 11 articles which obsessively pedal this viewpoint. The Union cannot try and say that for this speaker of the opposition, this is a debate purely about marriage, and will not touch on a debate about same-sex tolerance in general.
The other speaker of the opposition Calvin Robinson has made a career out of the culture war he so despises the left for creating. He told his 242-thousand Twitter followers that ‘Pride is a sin. The debauchery and degeneracy on display highlights why.’ Robinson believes Western countries are “fighting tooth and nail for the survival of our way of life.” Robinson hosts a GB News show where his bio says his show aims to “Reclaim our country from the woke. Join me in my crusade for common sense.” On the show he has peddaled the ideology of far-right politician Enoch Powell, declaring he “was right on many points” and even changed his Twitter banner to include a photograph of him.
The disarray of the Church over the topic should be enough to prove the debate is not ready to be had yet. And the choice of speakers to this debate suggests its purpose is very different to purely a debate on the right of marriage. The Union is no stranger to the topic, having held a debate in 2013 on whether gay parents should be given the right to raise children, and a pointless debate over whether “This House Regrets the Prominence of Allies in the LGBTQ+ Movement”. Consistently seeking to divide and fratcure, the Union needs to rethink this route. While the top echelons of Committee are dominated by straight men, the lower ranks have a strong LGBTQ+ representation, and we must ask why this is. I wanted to believe the Union wasn’t just an old boys club – but after the Saturday bicentenary debate it became clear that Oxford’s Union lags behind its counterparts, both in terms of representation and attitude. Yesterdays debate could have been held in much better framing, with a more productive title, in my off-record conversations it seems the title was forced through by a domineering executive, with little regard for the concern raised by those below. What if the Union got respected religious figures to debate, instead of a opportunist populist and homophobe? Would that not have led to a better debate with more rigour? Would it not have been wise to refer more specifically to what Church is being referred to here?
So, Charlie Mackintosh, when you tell the ‘dyed-in-the-wool Conservatives’ to challenge their view on same-sex marriage ‘by engaging in debates on these topics’, it is clear to see why this is damaging. You see, when you say ‘the ultimate duty of the Oxford union’ is ‘to have a space to question, away from the oppressive forces of dogma that continue to restrict free speech’, you are parroting a viewpoint perpetuated by the alt-right shocked that anyone dares speak out on the historic oppression that has occurred. For those that laud the libertarian principle of free speech, it is strange how you give a platform to those who want to impress draconian restrictions by treading laws all over society. If these speakers had a choice the debate would be settled, nullified and void. They don’t want a debate about these issues. They want their way. And what I would say to them, and you reading if you agree with them, is that your belief is a belief, but my existence is a reality.
Image Credit: CC:2.0//Barker Evans via Wikimedia Commons.
It’s that time of the year again- or is it? Love Island’s winter series is debuting for a second time after the COVID-era hiatus. Cue the cheesy twitter memes and sorry attempt at advertisers to assert their relevance. UNIDAYS this morning offered me a compilation of discounts that were ‘my type on paper’.
So, how to link Love Island to Oxford? It’s a bit more simple than you might imagine. Though they are both very hard to get accepted into, one may be more so than the other. A 2018 headline claimed, ‘Almost four times as many people (150,000) applied to appear on Love Island this year as applied to get into Oxbridge (40,000).’ For sure, the pool of applicants is bigger in one sense, as grades are not a barrier to entry, but attaining the unrealistic body types wanted for the show are difficult nonetheless.
I must admit, I loved Love Island when I was younger. Who can forget Chris and Kem’s bromance? Michael’s ‘childish’ line? Amy’s ‘I was coming back here to tell you that I love you?’ Even the iconic moment from the last winter series of Shaughna’s ‘Congrats hun’ to Callum after Casa Amor is unforgettable. Or Davide’s ‘You’re a Liar’ to Ekin-su in the most recent series? The easy-viewing drama over the course of the story, and the peak crescendo of the Casa Amor recoupling is gripping viewing
Love Island is successful because of such a spectacle. However, it is a spectacle with sinister undertones. It feeds into the tabloid culture that loves to make us judgemental, polarised and angry with ourselves and others. Love Island lost its magic for me when Caroline Flack took her own life after being pursued by the tabloids, who called her an attempted killer and hounded her hundreds of times in the months leading up to her death. It was by those same papers who ran headlines describing the ‘tragedy’ of her death soon after, egregiously arrogant to the role they played in her death. It was a devastating tragedy marred by the quick return to air of the then mid-way through season, and a sobbing Laura Witmore in the live final tribute. It’s not the only suicide associated with the show, three have occurred to date; all have been directly attributed to the mental health impact during and after the show.
The artificial environment stoked by the show and drama-fuelled opinions of viewers who only see an edited hour of a 24-hour day are symptoms of a Colosseum-like arena where the public declare who receives their favour and who receives their disapproving wrath. The competition element of the show is emblematic of our society. Those who go in there do not generally look for love, but for public favour which returns brand deals and big money. The social media-centric nature of the show ties into society. The ethos of Love Island – become an influencer and live a luxury lifestyle – is seen in the depths of social media that induce insecurity, reduce believed self-worth, and encourage competition between acquaintances at a much more local level. Links can be made to neoliberal individualism and capitalism here, and though they may be unconvincing to some, it is these events that influence the subconscious to a profound extent. The focus on appearance and looking better is a recipe for trouble.
Even if you don’t think Love Island will give you appearance insecurity, the powerful tool of prolonged exposure to judgement based on physical appearance alone is strange. Love Island encourages a relationship built on physical attraction, not genuine connections. The effects are not normally productive. Very few couples remain together for longer than six months after leaving the show. Sure, there are a growing number of Love Island babies, but the percentage of couples that are successful remains low- the heartwarming story of last summer’s winners Davide and Ekin-Su will remain a rarity for now.
I think my falling out of love with the show came from my realisation from progressing maturity that relationships are nothing like what Love Island portrays them to be. Relationships are complex, require commitment and connection, and are not as easy as waiting for someone to walk through the villa door and fall into your arms. It’s a nice myth to believe, but it’s also unrealistic. Advertising this as a brilliant way to find a committed long-term relationship is not healthy for an impressionable young teen audience. Furthermore, in a climate where Andrew Tate’s ethos of a manly man is increasing sexism in the younger echelons of society, Love Island enforces a culture of a petite girl needing a muscly man to couple up with seeming desirable. The lad culture of the boys, seen in full horrific glory on Casa Amor episodes, shows their immaturity without challenging or critiquing it at all. In fact it enforces the glorified double standards that decides who wears a badge of honour for any forays, and who gets labelled a ‘hoe’. Should we encourage our teenagers to talk to everyone else but the person who their issues are with? Surely mature compromisation should take precedence over conflict-inducing gossiping?
Love Island’s selective diversity is also a pressing issue. The lack of contestants from South East Asian and East Asia is notable, especially considering the proportion of the country these groups represent. Stigma and stereotypes over beauty standards already present in society are reinforced by the lack of this representation and undermine Love Island’s attempt to reform. This issue is emblematic of society as a whole – a 2018 Ofcom report indicated that South Asians have the lowest representation of all minority groups in the media. Love Island’s lack of ethnic diversity is followed by lack of body diversity. Few contestants have been without a six-pack or slimmed waist – past contestants speak of ‘starving’ themselves in preparation for the show. As the format of the show is quick to oust those deemed the least attractive, this effect is exacerbated.
For me, applying for Love Island could never happen because I’m not straight. The lack of LGBTQ+ representation was grudgingly permissible for practicality during earlier seasons, but attitudes have moved forwards, and a great way of changing the binary boy/girl gender roles on the show would be to include this representation. Sure, most gay people love Love Island; we are normally seen on the Aftersun commentator panel and we feed off the drama, but I want to ask this, relevant to this show and wider society: Do we have to be spectators or can we participate?
Image credit: Thomas Hawk / CC BY-NC-ND 2.0 via flickr
Oxford University’s 273rd Vice-Chancellor and clinical neuroscience professor Irene Tracey caused a stir when she made comments earlier this month saying that fossil fuel companies are the key to solving the climate crisis.
“Some of the solutions will have to come from the very industry that’s part of the problem,” she told PA news agency before her inaugural address on January 10th. During the address, Tracey said it was time “to get serious about climate change”, adding, “I want Oxford to lead in addressing what is now the most pressing issue of our times.”
She claims that “to a certain extent there has to be still that recognition and engagement of that industry” as they have “a great science and engineering base to come up with some of the solutions” and that “they’ve also got the finances to do it”.
Her message is at odds with many students who are attempting to get the University to stop receiving money from fossil fuel companies. Oxford Climate Justice Campaign released a 2022 report that showed the University received £1.6 million from the fossil fuel industry in 2020-21. Tracey is not opposed to receiving such funds but said in her address that such money should be taken “only where the purpose explicitly relates to enabling meaningful accelerations away from carbon usage and speeding the transition to net zero carbon”.
Reflecting on her statements while taking a walk in the Christ Church Meadow, Tracey told Cherwell that working with the fossil fuel industries “just makes sense”. “It’s a little bit from my medical area, how when you’re trying to solve a disease and a disorder, you work with the pharmaceutical industry… to co-create solutions,” she said.
However, she emphasized that there are still steps to be taken to get fossil fuel companies involved in the climate crisis dialogue. She said that as we are still dependent on fossil fuels, “there is this question around how we might be able to encourage the companies to take responsibility and ownership for dealing with the CO2 at source whilst we’re using the oil.”
Tracey also highlighted that asking fossil fuel companies to take this new responsibility is not a dialogue involving only University administrators and fossil fuel companies. “We’ve got to do this with our partner organizations and colleagues around the world, and that’s exciting,” she told Cherwell.
Tracey stated that she does not see fossil fuel firms recapturing their carbon emissions as the only action that needs to be taken. “[It] doesn’t mean that we don’t wean off fossil fuel use, but it buys us time to get there,” she explained. “It’s about the phasing and timing… There’s exciting, completely new and alternative energy potential sources coming our way.”
Furthermore, she believes that Oxford University’s science community is “very well placed” to make contributions in this interdisciplinary area. “We’ve got people who are working in the chemistry department in terms of … green chemistry, chemical developments that are more green and friendly, through to how we’re going to [make] better batteries, how we’re going to recycle plastics and convert that… And then, you got the big physics as well,” she stated. She added that we should not only think about developing and scaling up alternative energy sources but also “being a responsible citizen and a steward of this globe”.
She told Cherwell: “We mustn’t lose sight also of biodiversity and the other sorts of impact of climate as well, and the impact of changing climate on health – our medical division is very well placed as others in other universities around this country and around the world in terms of thinking about what the challenges will be in terms of the health problems that will come with global warming.”
Collaborating with an international team, Oxford University climate scientist and geosystem science professor Myles Allen published a scientific article in Environmental Research Letters earlier this month discussing Tracey’s statement about fossil fuel firms taking responsibility for their own emissions, a solution also known as “extended producer responsibility (EPR)” [1]. Allen emphasized that EPR may be a feasible solution due to its affordable nature. “We don’t know exactly how much the fossil fuel industry is making right now, but it’s a lot,” he told Cherwell.
“The big advantage of a carbon takeback obligation is it provides a very predictable route to net zero, no matter what happens to the cost of fossil fuels or the availability of renewable energy,” Allen stated. “To put this in perspective, natural gas in the UK currently sells for about 10 pence per kilowatt hour… A lot of (the money) is going in taxes, but a lot of it is going in profit. And the cost of delivering that natural gas to your cooker or your boiler has not changed.”
Allen also introduced ways in which carbon can be re-captured through both nature-based and geologically-based methods if EPR policies are implemented to target climate change. When it comes to geologically-based methods, Allen emphasized that “storage needs to be permanent”, making storage options limited. “The only one which has already been developed on any scale is to inject (CO2 emissions) as a liquid back underground… We know that it works, because the industry has been doing this for decades,” he said. He added that there are potentially cheaper geologically-based solutions under development, such as remineralization (turning carbon to rock) and enhanced weathering (accelerated natural carbon chemical drawdown), but “we don’t yet know if they’re going to work on the sort of timescales we need them to work”.
Nature-based solutions, such as tree-planting, could also offer an affordable short-term solution. However, a warming world will likely cause “many of the processes in the biosphere that might absorb carbon turn into sources and start to release it again”. Allen says, “In our paper, we say we use nature-based solutions up until 2050. But after 2050, we require 100% geological storage.” Allen added that a separate novel idea is to “cut down trees or gather fallen trees and literally bury them to accelerate the production of coal” but that more research is needed in this area towards the challenge of stopping decomposition.
Although many of the nature- and geologically-based solutions are still under development, Allen is looking forward to seeing EPR, which has already been implemented in some countries on household chemicals, integrated into environmental policies. “If we can just change that and include fossil fuels, the world would rapidly become a very different place.”
Oxford physics PhD candidate and environmental researcher Stuart Jenkins thinks that Tracey’s statements on EPR are “completely true”. “The key is finding the incentive for that,” he stated.
“We need to use all the policy tools at our disposal. Demand-side policy will reduce the use of fossil fuels dramatically, reducing CO2 produced today by 75-90%, but how do we stop the last 10-25% from causing further warming? Carbon taxes don’t stop people emitting, they just make them pay to do so.” Jenkins views EPR policies as a solution “without relying on taxpayer subsidy or a ban on fossil fuel use altogether”.
The University has many schemes already in place to address the crisis. The Oxford Energy Network, an interdisciplinary group of more than 180 senior researchers, works to tackle the social, economic, and political challenges of sustainable energy for all. The University’s Carbon Management Strategy has been shrinking the carbon footprint of its ‘considerable estate’ since 2011. A target has been set to reduce University carbon emissions by fifty per cent by 2030 with University funding of £1-million per annum.
In April 2020, the University announced landmark plans to divest its endowment formally from the fossil fuel industry. However, because of the decentralisation of the University, individual colleges are permitted to independently manage their endowments and many continue to invest in fossil fuels.
The Oxford community is contributing to solving the climate crisis in many ways, giving Tracey hope for what the future holds: “I’m an optimist, and so I’m always looking at the glass half full.”
