The Return of the Solider may seem an odd choice for this series of reviews. It is not an archetypal ‘great novel’. According to the critic and author Samuel Hynes, although it is a ‘small masterpiece’ it ‘comes too close to being merely a woman’s novel’, allegedly even to the extent of undermining Rebecca West’s radical feminist views. Yet the apparently precipitous nature of the exploration of the experiences and psychology of women during World War One is the reason for its appeal, at least for this reader. The novel is never as straightforward as it superficially appears; indeed, one might ask what a ‘woman’s novel’ would be anyway. The psychology of the shell-shocked soldier of the title is largely ignored, true, but instead the focus is more universal: an attempt by West to identify the impact of social conventions on a person’s desires, self-perception and honesty.
We are introduced by the narrator Jenny to the setting of an isolated pocket of idyllic England during 1916: ‘Disregarding the national interest and everything except the keen prehensile gesture of our hearts towards him, I wanted to snatch my cousin Christopher from the wars and seal him in this green pleasantness.’ This desire, although understandable, uses violently possessive lexis, in a typical, unconscious moment of irony. Even more ironic is the fulfilment of this desire, the first ‘return of the soldier’ occurring under the unwelcome auspices of mental problems arising from repression. We realise that Chris’s selective memory is a universal phenomenon; social conventions forcing affluent women into a ‘pretence that by wearing costly clothes and organising a costly life’ they are emotionally fulfilled. All the characters are entrapped, and therefore readers are even encouraged to sympathise with Chris’s wife, Kitty, a vainglorious and selfish woman, forced into a role of ‘controlled beauty’. Similarly, the honesty with which Jenny admits she was ‘physically so jealous’ of Chris’s old love, Margaret, ‘that it was making me ill’, is perhaps not impressive of itself, but when, by the end of the novel, she never explicitly admits her love for him, this is astonishingly realistic.
Part of the novel’s literary brilliance derives from its varying but consistently illuminating tone. The Return of the Soldier forces its audience into active reading, and out of apathy; gaps in meaning arise everywhere in what is told to the reader and what is never said. Within such an intimate psychological study, there are also depictions of scenes both lyrical and coarse in occasions of obviously moralistic passages, in which West’s political agenda emerges. There are ‘a score of houses, each hideous with patches of bare bricks…A slut sits at the door of a filthy cottage’ in Margaret’s working class district, which is explicitly shunned by Jenny, whereas her home is a scene filled with innocent vitality: ‘sunlight pouring through the tall arched windows and the flowered curtains so brightly…[light] lying in great pools on the floor…it threw dancing beams’. Nonetheless, these do not undermine the fundamental complexity and innovative style of the text, which for me make it a ‘great novel’.
by Leanne Price

As nice as it is to hear some fresh female vocals and great harmony in the chorus, this single left something to be desired.To be fair, the song flows very succinctly from chorus to verse to middle eight to chorus… But that’s just the problem. It just moves around a bit with the occasional moment of interest where the same guitar riff is repeated or slightly extended. Where’s the tension and release? Where’s the excitement?‘Darling’ is kind of catchy I suppose. Well, I tap my foot to it – not much else though. I don’t think I could remember a single lyric if I tried.Also on the single are two remixes. The Jape Remix of Darling massacres the song, taking away all its drive, and going bass-crazy, something which really doesn’t suit the light indie sound Sons & Daughters seem to do well.The Whip Remix of ‘Killer’ is more down my street, packed with minimalist electro beats, which are just plain good for dancing round your room to.‘Darling’ is definitely a grower, and is by no means a poor song, but I can’t help but feel something is missing. Where, oh where, is the variety?By Daniel Millichip, Deputy Editor, Cherwell24

‘Ready for the Floor’ is the first single from Hot Chip’s forthcoming album ‘Made in the Dark’. The typical fusion of pop, soulful lyrics and a quasi-electro background is displayed once again here. However, the song oozes light, bouncy and wispy sounds, which create a slightly insubstantial feeling. It certainly doesn’t have the same initial fullness and grab that ‘Over and Over’ so successfully achieved.
‘Ready for the Floor’ is a compilation of smooth, repetitive lyrics, retro light electro ‘twiddles’, pop background chords and a gentle beat. An instrumental version on the single adds nothing new, merely removing the best bit: the lyrics. Hardly anything revolutionary or instantaneously exciting, it certainly would not make me jump up ‘ready for the dance floor’.
Nevertheless, listening to the song again and again (perhaps ‘Over and Over’ is a more suitable title here) the fusion of seemingly incompatible, but individually conventional sounds makes you curiously addicted. Initially lacklustre, this song gradually transforms into something quite innovative.
It is difficult to discern what genre Hot Chip really fit into, and once again they have proved their individuality. So does ‘Ready for the Floor’ live up to Hot Chip’s previous success? Yes. But only just.
By Catherine Molony

Avid Records, Oxford’s last remaining vinyl record store, has been forced to close due to a large rent demand from Oxford City Council.
The store has been a popular haunt with music lovers, and has been especially popular with students, for over two decades.
The store was due to close in 2006 after it was hit with a backdated bill for £21,000. The owners were about to sell the lease and relocate to Bournemouth when the buyer pulled out, and fans have been able to continue to buy records, until now.
One first year student at University College told Cherwell24 that it was a “shame”, as he had spent “many an hour” browsing Avid’s vast collections. He lamented the increase in illegally downloaded music via the internet and cited that as the reason why establishments like Avid are becoming all the rarer.
However, it is not just students who will feel the loss of Avid Records. Liberal Democrat City Councillor, Patrick Murray, 27, has been visiting the shop for thirteen years and spoke to the Oxford Mail of his sadness at its closure.
"It's such a shame that Avid has closed – it's been a real Oxford institution since I was a teenager and was my favourite shop.
"The council is duty-bound to try to achieve the market rent for its properties, but we don't want a situation where small traders who add character to the city are driven out because they are being asked for years of backdated rent.”
"I suppose times change and now if people want to buy vinyl, they will have to buy it over the Internet," he said.

Friday's German parliamentary forum on anti-semitism was clearly too boring for some.Hat tip: Die Achse des Guten PS The ruling CDU won by about 0.1% is Hesse tonight but lost their overall majority, while the far-left Die Linke did well in two states. More tomorrow. Cherwell 24 is not responsible for the content of external links

St John's 5 – 0 Merton/Mansfield

St John’s hopes of a Hilary Term surge on the promotion places was given a real boost on Thursday, with a 5-0 win over joint leaders Merton/Mansfield.  A hat-trick from top scorer Matt Evans-Young, plus one each for strike partnership Joel Gregory and James Earle, gave a victory which throws open the competition to be playing First Division football in 2008/09.

The visitors went into the match joint with University College on nineteen points, well clear of mid table St John’s.  Merton/Mansfield fielded an archetypal little and large partnership up front.  The towering David Wilkinson was perfectly complemented by the waspish Robbie Coleman.  In combination, they were a genuine threat to the John’s goal.  Only three minutes in, a free kick aimed at Wilkinson’s head sailed over everyone – including goalkeeper Alex Berend – to hit the bar. 

It was the home side, however, which took the lead after only ten minutes.  A through-ball was headed on by Gregory, finding Evans-Young’s perfectly timed run from midfield.  The prolific left winger placed the ball over the onrushing Reuben Holt to put St. John’s into an early lead. 

As the hosts grew in confidence they made more chances: the two James, Earle and Bell both found Holt from close in.  At the other end, Wilkinson came off worse in a nasty clash of heads.  He was able to continue, having received treatment, but the point of Merton/Mansfield’s attacking football had been blunted.

With only seven minutes of the first half remaining, St John’s doubled their lead.  Gregory, with his back to goal, was kicked by a defender.  It was an unnecessary foul, and was punished as Gregory left Holt rooted to the spot. 

A confident John’s team scored their third nine minutes into the second half.  Jamie Bell played the ball through to Evans-Young, characteristically breaking from out wide into the penalty area.  Having taken the ball on his chest, he placed the ball into the bottom corner with his right foot.  Merton’s unlucky afternoon continued as two players had to leave with injuries early in the second half.  As Wilkinson moved back into midfield, Coleman was isolated with no target man to play off. 

What Merton/Mansfield did not need was an unforced error.  But on the hour mark, Joe Pickles’ stumble gifted possession to James Earle.  Playing in the trequartista role, he dominated John’s attacks – outmuscling defenders and distributing the ball intelligently.  It was fitting that he capitalised on Pickles’ error to reward his performance with a goal.

Through no fault of their own, the visitors were down to ten men.  But they continued to compete, and nearly pulled one back when Matt Morris drove the ball narrowly wide of Berend’s right-hand post.  Another substitute – albeit one for the home side – Dave Ellis, almost scored with his first touch: a diving header from a pinpoint Gregory cross flew just over.

Thirteen minutes from time, Evans-Young grabbed his hat-trick.  Yet another run into the box, as well timed as a Michael Vaughan cover drive, led to him heading a loose ball over Holt.  Breaking into the box like Frank Lampard, Merton/Mansfield never managed to pick him up and were punished three times.  With two minutes to go, another of St John’s outstanding performers, James Earle, hit the bar with a long range freekick.  Six nil would not have been too unfair a reflection on an impressive performance by St John’s.

4/5 Damn the cold and blasted weather! Liven your spirits with this week’s fantastically indulgent romp down at the Oxford Playhouse. Sheridan’s eighteenth Century Restoration Comedy is brought forward to the decadent, post-war scene of the 1920s. Admittedly, the production is steeped in so much stereotype (complete with women flopping their wrists, clutching tumblers of slow gin, and listening to scratchy gramophone records) you half expect a fast-talking character, wearing a pinstripe suit and spanking new spats, to waltz on. But, it is precisely all this cliché that gives Chanya Button’s version such resonance: the overtly superficial style only helps to emphasise the shallow nature of the characters.Teetering on the brink of exhaustive melodrama, the actors do a tremendous job of giving poised performances, while still enjoying Sheridan’s exaggerated characterisation. With the spoiled naivety of Lydia (Charlotte Bayley) and hopeless sincerity of Julia (Emma Pearce), wonderfully paralleled by the dapper Jack Absolute (Patrick Netherton) and nervously obsessive Faulkland (Tom Palmer), there is a predictably turbulent four-way love game between the younger characters. Meanwhile, the famous Mrs. Malaprop (played by a boisterous Natasha Kirk) verbally stumbles through the play, flirting with both Sir Anthony Absolute (Matt Lacey) and Sir Lucius O Trigger (Shaun Passey). Unbeknown to these upper class knit-wits, are the conniving methods of the secretly omniscient maid of Mrs. Malaprop, Lucy (Cecily Motley), and Jack Absolute’s butler, Fag (Leo-Marcus Wan). Finally, a chaotic farce of love and misunderstanding would not be complete without the pitiable everyman with whom the audience regretfully must identify, pottering awkwardly around in the form of Acres (Peter Clapp).Such an able set of cast members, all playing strongly-defined characters, risk battling each other for the lime light. None, however, are guilty of such a fault. Every characteristic, from the acute to the explicit – from the clammy smugness of Fag to the unscrupulous disorder of Mrs. Malaprop’s speech – is brought to the fore. The biggest laughs seem to be raised by Kirk’s wonderfully delivered malapropisms, including phrases such as “anticipate the past” or “explode the matter”, but the other performances are too slick for her to steal the show.Indeed, ‘slick’ is the production’s definition, save the rather clumsy scene changes (during which we see a single character in the spot light, ironically looking uncomfortable as the black-shirted stage hands scuffle about the darkened stage). Things would have also been helped by a shorter running time, as the fast-paced nature of the setting somewhat jars with Sheridan’s exposition-heavy script: rather than speed it up, it merely proves to expose it for all its slow indulgence. Don’t count on having a last drink at the pub, but prepare to be carried away by completely hackneyed tomfoolery. You’ll be yearning to conjure up a swing band and let that muted trumpet blow your winter blues away! 2:30pm Sat
7:30pm Thurs/Sat
8:00pm Friday
Oxford Playhouse: Run ends on Saturday January 26thReview by Frankie Parham

A seemingly endless flow of people poured into the Wheatsheaf on Tuesday night, and I eventually found myself wedged in a sweaty spot somewhere between the audience and the stage. Thankfully I had emerged victorious from a small battle with the barman over the purchase of a cider: the pub has evolved a high-tech driving-licence scanning machine to ward off any shifty underage comedy-goers. However, once my drink and I were happily jammed in place, I eagerly waited to see if the Revue would triumph in the seemingly impossible feat of coming up with original material on a fortnightly basis. There is penchant for the bizarre in the scripting that echoes the recent stream of TV sketch shows, which Brits seem to have taken to with enthusiasm. Coupled with this is a distinct whiff of the writers’ Oxford degrees: references to an Anglo-Saxon heritage, the Divine Right of Kings and extended metaphors all make an appearance and create a comfortably esoteric relationship between the performers and the audience. Joe Markham was fantastic as a slightly disturbing, entirely insane victim of alien invasion. Unfortunately, his fellow Revue members also found him particularly hilarious. There were tendencies for them to lose grip on that slick timing and precision that makes for great comedy and descend into giggling. Nevertheless, there were moments of brilliance: President Kieran Hodgson didn’t disappoint; his interpretation of Oliver Cromwell as an angry south Londoner was, in my opinion, a sensitive portrayal given  the understandably irritating situation of Charles I making your-mum jokes. Audience members glanced sideways at one another to see if others shared the sophisticated understanding needed to appreciate a sketch entirely in French, happily forgetting that ‘mon hamster est mort’ was clearly one of the first sentences we all learnt at GCSE. The Revue isn’t a polished performance, but given the task at hand it’s hardly surprising. A sparkling script and peppering of real talent make the Revue a must-see. Just don’t forget your ID. by Harriet Stewart

Mpemba was a secondary school student in Tanzania in 1963 who had the fortune of re-discovering some interesting physics during one of his cookery lessons.

Having boiled some milk for making ice cream, his class were told to let the mixture cool before putting it in the refrigerator. Mpemba, however was anxious of ensuring himself a space so put his mixture in straight away.

The other students waited and put their mixtures in later, after they’d cooled down. Having noted the time his ice cream entered the freezer compared with the rest of his class, Mpemba realised his mixture had frozen significantly faster than everyone else’s.

He came away with the simple observation that “hot liquids freeze faster than cold liquids”.

His science teacher told him this was impossible and he must have got mixed up. So why exactly is this impossible?

In a subsequent year at high school Mpemba was taught about Newton’s law of cooling in science: the rate at which a body cools is proportional to the temperature difference between that body and its surroundings:

…which leads to the solution…

Any set of cooling curves plotted from such a function will never cross, no matter what the initial starting temperature. So a curve which starts at a higher temperature will never undercut a curve starting at a lower temperature and will therefore always take longer to cool. Varying the parameter k on the other hand could well cause graphs to cross. But this parameter is determined from some initial conditions, if both systems are not identical in such things as geometry or arrangement, with the exception of starting temperature, then it is hardly appropriate to compare cooling times for different initial temperatures.

However, Mpemba was undeterred by a theory which didn’t seem to support his observations: he’d asked a friend who sold ice cream in a nearby town who told him he routinely used hot mixtures because they froze more quickly.

Still persisting with this, in 1969 a visiting academic from University College in the capital called Dr Osborne came to visit Mpemba’s school and he jumped at the opportunity to quiz him about this apparent violation of Newton’s Law. Thankfully he didn’t dismiss it outright, and upon returning to Dar es Salaam, he instructed a lab-assistant to carry out an experiment to see if hot water would freeze more quickly than cold water.

The lab-assistant reported the hot water had frozen first, but not to worry, "I'll keep on repeating the experiment until we get the right result." After several attempts it seemed Mpemba was right – hot water would freeze faster than cold water.

Publish or perish

Osborn and Mpemba published these results in a journal called “Physics Education”, coincidentally the same year that George Kell at the National Research Council of Canada in Ottawa reported the same phenomenon that year in the “American Journal of Physics”.

I said Mpemba re-discovered this; having mentioned this “Mpemba Effect” in one of their articles, the “New Scientist” was subsequently flooded with anecdotes from all over the world of only the hot water pipes freezing during a short cold snap, ice-rink operators preferring to use hot water and so on.

So this clearly wasn’t unheard of.

Surely the validity of this effect can be deduced by carrying out experiments – however this has proved surprisingly difficult. The Mpemba effect is only observed under certain conditions – there are clearly many factors which could affect how quickly water cools such as the geometry of the container, the volume of water and the temperature of the refrigerator.

In 1977, Jearl Walker published results in the “Scientific American” whereby the time to freeze was measured against the initial temperature for a variety of containers. His results showed two things. Firstly where negative gradients occur, water at an initially higher temperature appeared to be freezing more quickly. Secondly, this is by no means a universal effect, since most of the curves showed very little (if any) in the way of negative gradients.

On the aspect of repeatability, Walker reported that whilst most of his results were repeatable, he sometimes observe large variations in his results and said “I have not been able to resolve the controversy”.

So assuming both Newton and Mpemba are correct – how do we understand what is going on here? Can we somehow reconcile these two arguments?

CHECK BACK NEXT WEEK TO FIND OUT…
by Will Frass

Telekommunikationsüberwachungsmaßnahmen. Now that’s a word to get your tongue around after a few.

But that hasn’t stopped the Bavarian authorities from using it to their heart’s content, and, in doing so, smacking a heavy punch in the face of the anti-statist brigade.

The word – all 39 letters of it – means “telecommunication surveillance measures”, and, in the latest move by the Bavarian Justice Ministry to deal with terror threats, they’re set to spread from the phone to the internet. That’s right, the German police want to be able to eavesdrop on our Skype calls. My Skype calls.

A leaked memo revealing correspondence within the Ministry outlining the potential cost and pragmatics of a Skype surveillance scheme (the English is quite a mouthful too) has found its way to various minor news networks and campaign groups.

The list of functions available with the €3,500-a-month “Skype-Capture-Software” contains a chilling list covering pretty much anything you can do with Skype, including live export of voice, chat and video communication, outgoing calls, SMS messages and Skypecasts. They can even find out who’s on your Buddy list.

It looks like the nation whose language gave us Kafka’s Trial may be playing host to the real thing.

Hat tip: Spreeblick

Cherwell 24 is not responsible for the content of external links