The battle for Radcliffe Square has reached new heights as Hertford College cat Simpkin IV has been spending a lot more time in Exeter College cat Walter’s usual digs. In response, Exeter College has now banned Simpkin from the College library.
Last week, Walter reported via instagram that his library had been “infiltrated by an invader” from Hertford. However, a few days later the pair were caught sharing a kiss in the very same library. All tensions seemed to have eased.
However, Simpkin was spotted a few days later in Walter’s cushioned chair. This event prompted Walter to declare that the ‘truce’ they had established was now, definitively, over. Walter was pictured contemplating his next steps under a nearby table.
Image: Nam Seongwook via @walter_the_exeter_cat
A spokesperson commented via Simpkin’s instagram that “Simpkin sightings in Hertford have been limited so far this term … looks like we know why!” Simpkin is Oxford’s self proclaimed feistiest feline, Chief Mouser at Hertford College,’ and ‘Library Invader everywhere else.’ He recently had to share his quad with Timothée Chalamet, who used Hertford as a base for filming the upcoming film Wonka.
The most recent shocking development involves a new sign at the entrance to the Exeter library, which reads “Please do not let this cat into the library! (He is called Simpkin and belongs at Hertford!) WARNING: HE BITES!”
Simpkin’s PR team told Cherwell: “As Simpkin’s publicity team and loyal fans, we want to assure people that he is not a frequent biter! It’s a shame that he and Walter never got to further develop their bromance, but we’re very excited to have him back on home turf. Much like the ravens at the Tower of London, Hertford would crumble without his moody self.”
The Principal of Hertford College and former diplomat, Tom Fletcher, commented via Twitter: “We have always sought friendly relations with our neighbours @ExeterCollegeOx. But this denial of feline movement is a breach of international convention and of grave concern. We have withdrawn our cat for consultations while we consider appropriate sanctions.”
Walter told Cherwell: “I would like to say I am pleased to see the Library return to a Simpkin-free zone. The vet had the audacity to put me on a diet this week – I need to protect my limited rations!”
Having decided to shove New Year’s resolutions to one side, my only vow for 2022 is to read more. I’ve been feeling quite nostalgic recently for the part of childhood where it was acceptable to sit for hours and devour a book in one go, content and with no other distractions.
That being said, here is my list of hopeful reads for the new year. A few are recommendations from friends, whilst others have been sat on bestseller lists for a while. Some are yet to be released and are by new and exciting voices that I think will be popular. In the mix are also some classics that even I don’t know how I’ve avoided for this many years (looking at you, Sylvia).
If you’re stuck for your next read, I hope this helps a little! And if you have any recommendations yourself, I would truly love to know them…
1. Hamnet, Maggie O’Farrell
The imagined story of Shakespeare’s son who died aged eleven. After being seriously ill in childhood, O’Farrell became fascinated by the Bard’s son, and how his death inspired the renowned play, Hamlet. She explores a life subjugated to the footnotes of history, and the legacy of grief.
2. Sunset, Jessie Cave
Sunset focuses upon two sisters’ relationship and grief. Known for her comedy Sunrise, Cave also openly discusses the aftermath of losing a sibling. Sunset is a culmination of all these facets of Cave, a both funny and heartbreaking story that honours siblinghood.
3. My Body, Emily Ratajkowski
The follow-on from Buying Myself Back, Ratajkowski’s essay discusses self-ownership and pressures from the male gaze in the modelling world. Growing up, Emily Ratajkowski was the beauty standard that many aspired to; it is this uneasy dynamic that makes her work so interesting.
4. Neapolitan Novels, Elena Ferrante
The Neapolitan series follows two childhood friends. Gifted children, their lives take different paths after only one can afford further education. The novels study the intersection of class and gender, and the resilience of friendship.
5. The Transgender Issue, Shon Faye
Lauded as a monumental work in understanding and celebrating what transgender liberation means in modern Britain.
6. Shuggie Bain,Douglas Stuart
Set in 1980s Glasgow, Shuggie Bain follows the life of a young boy, tackling topics that range from alcoholism to the experience of queerness in working class communities.
7. Open Water, Caleb Azumah Nelson
A lyrical depiction of an affair between two artists in London. Azumah Nelson has been applauded for both the novel’s celebration of young black identity in Britain, and his unconventional and expressive second person narration.
8. The Right to Sex, Amia Srinivasan
Srinivasan examines the politics and ethics of sex in society. Issues are discussed that range from race, pornography, to the politics behind conventional ‘attractiveness.’
9. Les Années, Annie Ernaux
Ernaux is renowned for autobiography, yet Les Années is also the biography of a whole generation. Spanning from 1941 to 2006, the narrative follows collective lives and the changes they experience.
10. Notes on Heartbreak (2022 release), Annie Lord
Lord’s book explores the different shades of her own heartbreak after a break-up. A columnist for Vogue, Lord’s writing is visceral and moving, as well as funny in her self-awareness.
11. Animal, Lisa Taddeo
Following the success of Three Women, Animal’s protagonist is a deeply flawed woman, forced to confront the trauma of her past.
12. Everybody: A Book About Freedom,Olivia Laing
Laing is personally one of my favourite writers. Her latest work examines the power and vulnerability of the body, questioning how it can experience and withstand oppression.
13. Black and British: A Forgotten History,David Olusoga
Challenging the marginalisation of black experiences in history, Olusoga’s breadth study spans from the Roman era to the ‘Black Lives Matter’ movement in 2020.
14. The Secret History, Donna Tartt
Cited as the beginning of the ‘dark academia’ genre, Tartt’s detective story centres a group of classics students at their prestigious college.
15. Night Sky with Exit Wounds, Ocean Vuong
Vuong’s debut collection of poetry; a delve into sexuality, masculinity, and experiences as an immigrant in America.
16. Poor Little Sick Girls – A Love Letter to Unacceptable Women(2022 release), Ione Gamble
Becoming chronically ill aged nineteen, Gamble discusses her relationship with feminism. The trend of ‘girl boss’ empowerment was inaccessible to her and her disability, leading her to forge her own path and identity.
17. Nobody is Talking About This,Patricia Lockwood
Lockwood’s debut novel explores the reality of our lives online, and the power of human connection.
18.Where the Crawdads Sing,Delia Owen
The story of a young woman who grows up isolated from her town, known to them only as ‘the marsh girl.’ A coming-of-age novel, tension occurs once she begins to yearn for acceptance and love from this community, with certain members becoming equally fascinated.
19. The Bell Jar, Sylvia Plath
Plath’s classic novel needs little explanation, often a steady place-holder on the ‘100 books to read before you die’ lists.
20.Catch-22, Joseph Heller
Another permanent fixture on the ‘100 books to read before you die’ list, Heller’s satirical novel is set during World War Two and exemplifies the foolishness of war. I also just want to know the origins of the phrase ‘Catch-22!’
21.The Virgin Suicides, Jeffrey Eugenides
I have wanted to read this for a while, following Jia Tolentino’s essay “Pure Heroines”;the Lisbon sisters are used as a prime example of the complication and limitations surrounding teenage girl characters in literature.
22. Tenant of Wildfell Hall, Anne Brontë
Originally on my list because I felt guilty for always overlooking the third Brontë sister, I am quite happy to learn that Tenant of Wildfell Hall is considered the Brontës’ ‘most shocking novel.’ Good for Anne.
I was very lucky to see two amazing revivals of the iconic musicals Spring Awakening and Cabaret on consecutive nights over the Christmas vacation. Both shows absolutely blew me away. Yet I noticed how the styles of direction of Rebecca Frecknell (director of Cabaret) and Rupert Goold (director of Spring Awakening) were radically opposed. Both shows will surely receive multiple Olivier nominations – but which show will come out top? And ultimately, what makes a musical revival successful?
Rebecca Frecknell’s big directing break originally came at the Almeida Theatre (the current home of Spring Awakening). Eddie Redmayne suggested that she put on a production of Cabaret after seeing the West End transfer of her hit Almeida show Summer and Smoke by Tennessee Williams. In that sense, there is something intrinsically Almeida-esque in her directorial approach. Frecknell’s 2019 production of The Duchess of Malfi made particular use of the opaque and transparent glass boxes that Goold uses so effectively to explore ideas of captivity and liberation in his production of Spring Awakening. Yet what connects both directors is a willingness to disrupt the ‘sanctity’ of the original texts. Both versions are ‘darker’ than their originals; in Cabaret, Redmayne as the Emcee progressively adopts the persona of a fascist dictator, dropping his sexually liberated clown outfit in favour of a blonde wig and a brown shirt. Jessie Buckley removes all the showbiz pizazz that Minelli brought to the role of Sally in the film version – her voice is stunning, but she chooses to speak through much of the title song. Frecknell’s choice is bold but it pays off. The effect is devastating – Sally becomes a ghostly shell of a person, introducing an ironic distance between the lyrics and the dramatic context in which they take place.
Spring Awakening also opts for a darker approach; it feels more intimate and personal than the original Lea Michele Broadway version. The entire set becomes an enormous chalkboard which the actors can draw on – the actors feel almost organically in touch with the stage itself. Goold’s introduction of Greta Thunberg’s speech into ‘Totally Fucked’ added a new ecological framing to the show; Goold’s directorial touch revealed how the show is just as relevant to a Gen-Z audience fifteen years after it was originally performed.
I would argue that the reason that both revivals are so strong is that the source material itself encourages and even requires an expressionistic sense of theatricality. In that sense, they are gifts to directors – the possibilities of invention are endless. Frecknell’s Cabaret is performed in the round, with a revolve effortlessly transporting us between the different Berlin locations. Spring Awakening on the other hand is staged end-on with an ascending staircase that fills the entire stage – I was in awe with the level of fitness required for the cast, who had to run up and down the steps for the entirety of its 2-and-a-half-hour runtime. So which show was better? It’s a close call, but I would just about say Cabaret. The whole experience was so immersive to an extent that I have never personally seen done before. The Playhouse Theatre in the West End is completely redecorated to become the Kit Kat Club from the moment you enter the building. Similarly for Spring Awakening, the intimacy of the Almeida as a theatre helps to contribute to an immersive feel. Goold also has Hanschen (Nathan Armarkwei-Laryea) break the fourth wall to particularly comic effect which I won’t spoil.
However, I would say that only 90% of Goold’s decisions worked, whereas the surprisingly minimalist staging of Cabaret itself created a consistency that Spring Awakening lacked at times. The decision to cut the song ‘The Guilty Ones’ in favour of the original Act Two opening ‘There Once Was a Pirate’ felt like a mistake. The glass at the back of the stage felt distracting and I wasn’t quite sure what purpose it served; it wasn’t used as effectively as the glass box at the front. Yet I am being especially picky – and given the price difference between the tickets for Cabaret and Spring Awakening, it is no surprise that Cabaret has a slight edge. Frecknell defended the exorbitant costs of Cabaret, saying in The Times that ‘a quarter of the house is £50 or less, and we’re doing a daily lottery for £25’.
Can we ever justify ticket prices of more than £200 given the theatrical experience involved – or are we just making theatre expensive and inaccessible? The jury is out. What is certain is that the Almeida must be commended for their prioritisation of young talent (the Assistant Director Priya Patel Appleby only graduated from University in 2020!) and affordable ticket prices. As a theatre, they are committed to training the talent of the future, which is more necessary than ever as the industry continues to struggle under the pressures of the pandemic.
Blackfishing is a word that though more or less unknown little more than five years ago, has now become part of everyday speech. While certain blustering gammons still pretend not to understand – that by applying a black aesthetic to a white body it’s reframed in a way that is more palatable to other white people – most of us know what it is, and more importantly that it’s A Bad Thing To Do. Co-inciding with this growing awareness is the slow decline of blackfishing as a rebranding technique. Once a tried-and-true strategy for those looking to gain clout, typically ex-child stars and the entire Kardashian family, blackfishing is now a very risky business. Case in point ? Jesy Nelson. The ex-X-Factor star was at the centre of the latest explosion of the debate around cultural appropriation, and is likely the first major celebrity (ok, that might be pushing it) for whom the consequences of blackfishing have not only backfired but actively tanked the attempted rebrand. Not only did it do nothing to propel her away from her past as a member of a bubblegum-turned-girlboss group, but it turned people against her so violently that they felt comfortable going after someone whose other major claim to fame is the damage done to her mental health because of online abuse.
The most interesting thing about this whole controversy is how the accusation of blackfishing has become one which is so heavily morally weighted that it seems to halo the person criticising the blackfisher – they’ve done something bad, so they become an open goal for criticism. Despite having been the focus of a 2019 BBC documentary highlighting the damage trolling had done to her mental health, driving Nelson to attempt suicide, ‘Boyz’ – the branding, the Tiktoks, the performances – has been the ship that launched a thousand memes. You can see the impact of being accused of blackfishing in the difference between the responses to two clips –the Tiktoks that started it all, and videos of her Jingle Bell Ball performance.
Let’s be honest here – the Tiktoks that were released to hype up the new single, were blackfishing by the book. Grills, du-rags, basketball shorts, big curly wigs and a tan so deep that Jesy, who’s white British, appears darker than her mixed-race ex-bandmate Leanne Pinnock. Add in the cohort of black/mixed-race male back-up dancers (which, when the song is all about liking ‘bad bad boys’ plays into some very nasty stereotypes), and there is no defence. It was a wince-makingly tone-deaf rebrand. Part of the issue is that her team seems stylistically to have thrown the book at her – if they had toned it (and her tan) down a little, it might have been easier to overlook. But by theming her comeback so heavily around an aesthetic that is so blatantly lifted from the black community (or basically a white person’s stereotyped idea of it), it’s hard to understand how they didn’t see the screaming backlash on the horizon. Most of the criticism, however, was measured and valid – pointing out the appropriation and breaking down why it was bad for those struggling to keep up at the back. The next round, however, was in response to the Jingle Bell Ball performance. Even though Nelson was way closer to her natural skin tone, and wore an inoffensive costume, she got absolutely shredded online – for the performance itself. Now, of course you should be able to say what you like about celebrities online but bearing in mind her own history with online criticism it was quite surprising to see the speed at which the Jesy Nelson hate train was fully boarded.
It seems of the consequences of blackfishing is carte blanche to be criticized for absolutely anything else, which is handy to bear in mind when you think about the gradual shift away from the blackfish aesthetic over the last few years. Even those who’ve blackfished so hard it was basically their entire brand are stepping away – think about the Kardashians, whose empire was built on the appropriation of the body-type and lip-shape of black women, have allegedly had BBL reductions (although at the last count they had 5 kids by black men between them, which will be a heck of a lot harder to whitewash). There are a lot of theories as to why this is – first of all that, naturally, as a trend blackfishing was always going to have an expiration date, which is one of the major problems with the practice in the first place – that the non-black people who’ve hopped on the bandwagon for clout can just as easily hop off again, treating it as a phase rather than a real, solid aesthetic. More positively, you could say with more (though still nowhere near enough) proudly black artists at the top of their fields than even 10 years ago people have become more used to seeing the black aesthetic on black bodies, something that the decline of centralised whitewashed media has no doubt contributed to. Cynically, I’d also say that the biggest factor (though they’re all at play) is simply the increased accountability. And not only accountability, but the vulnerability it brings. Though blackfishing was obviously never ok, it’s now a truth universally acknowleged – and that means that it isok to jump on anyone caught doing it, and we all know that internet loves a dog-pile, especially one where you can then permanently justify your criticism as being from the moral high ground.
Adjoa Andoh has been named as the next Cameron Mackintosh Visiting Professor of Contemporary Theatre.
The Chair of Contemporary Theatre was founded through a grant from the Mackintosh Foundation at St Catherine’s College. It aims to encourage interest and participation in contemporary theatre throughout the wider university.
Andoh has directed and acted in a wide range of television productions. She starred in Doctor Who and Casualty, and also appeared as Lady Danbury in the lockdown hit Bridgerton, for which she was nominated NAACP Outstanding Supporting Actress in a TV Drama.
Her accolades on the stage are equally impressive. Adjoa Andoh is an Associate Artist at the RSC, where she has played Portia in Julius Caesar, Ulysses in Troilus & Cressida, and Helen of Troy in The Odyssey. She has also performed leading roles at the National, such as Serafina Pekkala in His Dark Materials, and at the Globe, where she conceived and co-directed Richard II.
The Visiting Professorship was inaugurated by Stephen Sondheim in 1990, and has since been held by an impressive array of theatrical figures, including Arthur Miller, Sir Ian McKellen, Diana Rigg, and Patrick Stewart.
The Professorship seeks to increase students’ exposure to individuals who have had a significant impact on contemporary theatre, and even contemporary culture. Adjoa Andoh certainly ticks this box: Bridgerton was streamed by 63 million households worldwide, and as the second season approaches, the involvement of one of its stars in the University will bring a hint of Hollywood to the Dreaming Spires.
Discussing her new role, Adjoa said: ‘Sir Cameron has enriched our vision of what is possible in our profession immeasurably. I hope as Visiting Chair in his name to honour his work amongst those Oxford students who wish to make their contributions to the work and the art of storytelling; and to be in dialogue with other theatre makers, ever widening the stories told and the audiences invited in.’
Sir Cameron Mackintosh, the founder of the Visiting Professorship, said: ‘‘Since I was lucky enough to have Stephen Sondheim establish the Chair 31 years ago, when he revealed that he was as masterful a teacher as he was a composer and lyricist, I have been honoured that it has attracted so many legendary talents from the world of theatre and film.
‘This year I am particularly delighted to welcome Adjoa Andoh, who is not only known as a brilliant contemporary actress, including her recent dazzling performance in Bridgerton, but also for her cutting-edge approach to directing and performing Shakespeare in London which has had a powerful impact on modern theatre.’
Commenting on the importance of the professorship to student theatre at Oxford, one student said: “having Adjoa Andoh as this year’s visiting professor will allow students to connect in person with the actress and ask their personal questions, allowing them to gain a better understanding of the industry, as well as the issues within it.”
There is no formal teaching requirement attached to the position, and everyone who holds the professorship can interpret their responsibilities however they like. However, it is expected that Adjoa Andoh will deliver an inaugural lecture at the beginning of her tenure. Previous visiting professors have also interacted with students through workshops and seminars throughout the year.
Much like John Evelyn, the union has decided that, after a long spell of messy and toxic matchups, this term it’s time to branch out and try a three-way.
You might recall that the last time something similar happened, the Union was about to couple up with an Australian gentleman, but some chap called Ron got in the way. As is often the case when one’s first option falls through, the Union ended up in a four-way with some slightly older folks and things got a bit weird. Hopefully, this time, the longer build-up will mean everyone is more comfortable when the moment finally comes.
The Rapid Climber has reConnected with the dynamic duo that is European Girlboss x European Boyboss. The LMH Enforcer, on the other hand, was Inspired by the musical clout of David Guetta and the career prospects of the Campus Ambassador. John Evelyn hears he is planning a 70 person slate social this Saturday at LMH in paralysing fear that he might not get his campaign started soon enough. The Univ Queen has renewed her OUCA Prime subscription and express-shipped two veteran hacks from the university’s other favourite society. John Evelyn hopes she remembered to put the purchase on her personal debit card and presents her with the Garbage Collector of the Week award for reaching deep enough into the bin to pull these two out.
It’s dating season in the union, as each slate desperately tries to fill its final officer position. John Evelyn has heard that the ROs are thinking of putting all the slate leaders and eligible single hacks on an island together to see if they can find The One. They say there are many Fish in the sea, but at present no one seems to be getting any bites. Senior appointed are currently sheltering together in a coffee-proof bunker, however a little birdie told John Evelyn that one member may have been temped over to the electoral dark side…
Meanwhile, all wait with bated breath to see who, if anyone, the Privately-educated Progressive will look down upon favourably from her high throne. We can only wait and see whether this planned three-way does indeed come to climax, or if someone pulls out beforehand with cold feet.
This mildly comedic column has been written by a drag queen agony aunt. It is not for the faint hearted and contains sensitive topics which may cause distress to some readers. Be prepared for dirty douche water, relationship issues, adultery, and finding out why your Dad never loved you.
Hate men? Losing the will to live? Wondering how to remove that Alpecin-Caffeine shampoo bottle from your arse? Good old Aunt Rusty is here to help!
Rusty Kate is Oxford’s premier cum-filled crossdresser, known for turning looks, tricks, and straight men seven nights a week. She’s decided to take a short break out of her busy schedule of carrying Plush’s Drag & Disorderly shows to act as Cherwell’s Dragony Aunt, and help sort out your pathetic little lives one horrendously uncensored column at a time.
Remember to submit your questions through the link here – you’re guaranteed complete anonymity. Unless you lose an Alpecin-Caffeine shampoo bottle up your arse (looking at you, Ben Jureidini).
Right, onto the issues that the SU are currently writing some very important petitions to the university about…
Dear Rusty, I think I fell in love with one of my closest friends last term. I thought the separation from her over the vac would help me come to my senses, but I think I’m still in love with her. Is it in my head? Am I confusing close friendship with romance? Do I tell her knowing she probably doesn’t feel the same? Help an emotionally confused gal out Rusty xx
Love is always in the head, dear. Just give her some and I’m sure she’ll give you a yes or no answer.
You do need to tell her how you feel, though. There’s no use bottling all it up just for it to all come squirting out later (that’s how lesbianism works, right?). In the words of the great Macklemore, love is love, and by the sounds of it, you’ve got some loving to give her.
Romance and close friendship can be hard to separate, especially as queer people – we shag our friends, and are borderline celibate with our partners. Why not ask her out with the angle of an open relationship? Those always go well!
How the hell do I find someone who is not completely insane, not a weirdo and just interested in something casual? I want a no strings casual hook up – is that too much for a girl to ask for? I’m dying here, Rusty, help. Where are all the hot men hiding?
Darling, the answer is simple – all hot men who are completely devoid of attachment or any ability to sustain intimacy are gay. You’ll find a plethora of options on Grindr – bisexuals and homoflexibles alike will be perfectly happy to give you everything and more, as long as it’s seen as casual. They don’t want to meet your parents, but they will
pound you close enough to death that you’ll be meeting your maker. Just remember, the diamond emoji doesn’t mean they like jewellery – you’ll need to bring something smokable for those types.
How can I get out there without using dating apps?
Go out there just like your mother used to do, the good old-fashioned way. I’ve heard the hard shoulder on the M40 is a good place to meet people.
‘I first realised I wanted to study History and only History when I was 7 and visited the Tower of London on a school trip. From then on, History was the only lesson I looked forward to and became all I wanted to study all day every day.’
I’ve endured almost three years of study at Oxford and, more recently, spent hours trying to convince employers that the skills from my degree really are ‘transferable’. Reflecting now and comparing myself to others around the world in the same position, I’m forced to ask whether I really was speaking honestly at interview or if a couple of Maths or Economics courses in my third year would have served me better for the world of work ahead.
Choosing one or two subjects to study at university at 18 seems like a very normal, natural progression in the English system. Eleven subjects at GCSE, three or four at A-Level and then, finally, you pick your favourite one. Oxbridge interviews are set up not only to find the most gifted at particular subjects, but those most passionate. ‘Passion’, we’re told, is what will get us through twelve essays a term in the same subject, every term, for three years. The vast majority of university students, however, are not passionate enough to take their love of their subject further. Love for one’s subject mysteriously, and quite suddenly, peters out in the third term of one’s third year as most of us hit the job market and the idea of masters or PhD level studies terrifies us.
An education system which takes this into account, which isn’t gearing us up to fall in love or out of love with the academic profession is surely more desirable. Being forced to or even just having the option to take a wider array of courses ought to make us more attractive on the job market and prepare us for life. Taking this back further, a broader 16-18 curriculum, which doesn’t let us drop Maths, essay subjects or a language ought to leave more doors open when it comes to deciding what to pursue career-wise, giving employers tangible numerical, reasoning and language skills to refer to. However, this isn’t an argument for general studies courses or more practical education post-16. It’s a case against siloing young adults into specific departments and in favour of interdisciplinary studies.
The liberal arts program and high school curriculum in the United States speaks volumes for the advantages of an interdisciplinary education. Many universities lay out compulsory courses in essay-writing, modern foreign languages or science for freshmen and sophomores, while allowing students to pursue their interests by majoring and minoring in subjects in their final two years. It also gives university professors a lot more freedom to curate interesting, popular courses that don’t necessarily fit within a particular department’s framework. ‘Beyoncé Feminism, Rihanna Womanism: Popular Music and Black Feminist Theory’ at Harvard or ‘How to Stage a Revolution’ at MIT are two examples of ‘out-of-the-box’, interdisciplinary courses that we rarely see the likes of in the UK. In an academic climate gripped by movements to diversify the canon, encouraging universities to make their options ‘popular’, to fight it out on the ‘student market’, is surely a good thing.
The English academic’s rebuttal would be that three years of specialised learning in Biochemistry, Classics or Maths takes you to a far higher standard than one could get by taking a few ‘major’ modules a year. The liberal arts education leads to a surface-level understanding of a few subjects, without taking you to the depth of knowledge which you’d need for ‘proper research’, to really add something to the discipline with your final dissertation. There is a case for specialisation in certain subjects in which knowledge is cumulative. This is particularly evident in subjects like Law or Medicine, where the English system somewhat ‘fast-tracks’ 18-year olds and shaves a couple of years off their professional debut. However, the case for a multidisciplinary approach in the humanities and even some science subjects is strong. From personal experience, I would argue that being able to take papers in Philosophy, Economics and English would add significantly to my study of history and might mean I didn’t ignore the parts where politics becomes ‘mathsy.’ Equally, the benefits of interdisciplinary ‘modes of thinking’, applying a ‘scientific brain’ to ‘artsy questions’ have been well researched and argued.
Moreover, few would suggest that top institutions in the United States, Continental Europe, or Asia are hampered in the quality of their graduates, teaching staff or research capabilities by a secondary or tertiary education program which does not encourage specialisation. In fact, exposing students to new subjects, ones which they might not have considered at school level, can give birth to high-quality graduates and researchers whose passion for their subjects started late in their academic careers.
Multi-disciplinary study at university could also help to address this country’s youth employment or higher education crisis. Ever since increasing numbers of young people started attending university at the start of the century, cries about ‘pointless degrees’ or ‘too many people going to university’, often from the right, have dominated debates about the place of universities in society. If we do want to maintain higher education as a valuable tool for social mobility, perhaps broadening curricula, even at top universities, is the answer. Perhaps it could encourage universities like Oxford to consider our education holistically: what skills do we really want to come away with, which untapped areas do we still want to explore? This would evidently be more beneficial than a drive for first-class degrees at any cost and, in the Oxbridge context, competition between colleges and within departments. While Liberal Arts courses have popped up at a number of institutions in the UK, the norm still remains the specialised degree and the underprepared graduate.
Even the process of choosing A-Levels is a restrictive process for young people. Students are often likely to pick their options based on particular departments’ track record or the ease with which they can achieve top grades. The decision to drop a particular subject simply because of a bad teacher, department or school type is evidently restrictive and problematic. Often the case for taking a particular subject is strengthened by a particular charismatic teacher or which subjects are deemed popular. Many schools, moreover, are pressured by the harsh quantitative scrutiny of league tables to push students into taking ‘easier’ subjects or those taught by the best department. The positive feedback cycle here is damaging: worse departments with fewer students at A-Level end up receiving less funding, and so on. For certain subjects, this can also feed into a worsened state-private school divide once at university, with subjects like Classics often seen as the domain of the economic elite. With the aim of equal opportunity, therefore, a less narrow school-level education may be a solution.
The most obvious argument for specialisation at A-Level arises from the fact that everyone has different strengths. We should allow teenagers to express their individuality, choose their subjects and excel in their strengths. This is rooted in a particular view of education which sees all children as different, with different processing abilities: people think in different ways and everyone has their own strengths. Not letting people drop subjects which they’re bad at could lead to disillusionment, poor mental health, and all-round negative associations with school. Letting every teenager choose their own subjects, it is argued, allows them to engage with their interests and fulfill their potential.
A-Levels, moreover, aren’t mandatory. The standardised English education system ends at 16, with a range of options, from BTECs to the increasingly popular apprenticeship scheme, available after. Those who argue in favour of a more ‘practical’ education often focus on the fact that A-Levels are not and have been increasingly less important for career aspirations. This isn’t unique to England: Germany has ΩBerufsschule (‘vocational schools’), which allow those over 16 to study alongside a three- or four-year apprenticeship, while France has a separate stream for those who want to take the ‘vocational baccalaureate’. Mandating a core curriculum until 18 is, therefore, potentially linked to the United States’ higher high school dropout rate than the UK and more general dissatisfaction with education.
This is compounded by the fact that the A-Level system is very popular. The English Education System is, undeniably, quite highly regarded around the world. Cambridge International A-Levels are taken by the economic elites all over the world, from Hong Kong, to India, to South America. They are seen as a gateway to academic success, to prestigious higher education institutions and a demonstration of true academic mastery.
It’s important, however, to deconstruct this reverence for English schooling. Education has been an area particularly defined by the colonial experience in many countries around the world. The idea of being part of an educated super-class still runs deep and possibly shapes existing feelings of respect towards the A-Level System.
Alternatives are on offer within the UK too. Scottish schoolchildren take more subjects to Highers Level and many private schools have opted to also offer the International Baccalaureate, which forces students to pick a true range of six subjects, taking three to ‘Higher’ Level. The impact of the IB on low-income US students was found to create ‘more rigorous classrooms, students who participate in more extra-curricular subjects and who had greater higher educational aspirations.’ However, the likelihood of us as a nation or schools more generally switching to such a system appears unlikely.
Gavin Williamson, former Secretary of State for Education, recently said that the purpose of education is to ‘give students the skills for a fulfilling working life’. While the answer to this could be vocational training from a young age, I’d argue that the key to a more ‘useful’ education is to treat young people as individuals and parts of the workforce, rather than as potential future academics. A more holistic education, one which accepts a need for depth while maintaining linguistic, literary and numeracy skills developed from a young age, could reinvigorate teachers and students and improve falling university satisfaction rates.
My dad’s biggest pet peeve: half-time binge drinking. After getting up from his seat to let the dizzy drunken man shuffle past just as half time is approaching, he starts cursing loudly and violently, albeit in Portuguese. Missing precious seconds of a football match sends him the wrong way. The English fan’s matchday habits of leaving seats early, or arriving late from the concourse, so that they can grab a pint at half-time has its collateral damage.
Tracey Crouch, who is leading the “fan-led review” of football governance, revealed that the government could lift the ban on drinking alcohol inside football grounds “in view” of the pitch. This ban has existed for 36 years due to the extent of hooliganism in the country. The new age of beer might be coming our way.
The sit-down-stand-up choreography, which is English football’s reluctant alternative to the Mexican Wave, is a famous routine, well known and excellently rehearsed by all fans who regularly attend matches. This routine may be happening a whole lot more often if the drinking ban is lifted. Why wait till half time to grab a drink? Very soon, you might be able to get your pint in midway through the first half. Cue the friendly yet frustrated chants of “is this a fire drill?”.
Supporters are allowed to drink at the cricket or the rugby “in view” of the pitch. With all due respect to cricket and rugby, football’s instants of excitement are often rarer, shorter, more dramatic, manic, adrenaline-fuelled, action-packed, moment-of-truth-charged, g’wan-silence-yeaaaah-defined. Football’s crazy. There are no tea breaks. There is no courtesy, or least any sign of respect, shown to an opposition player lining up their penalty kick.
When your team scores, the full pint in your hand might be up in the air, soaking all those around in warm, stale beer. Can you imagine the scenes: a thousand men dancing and singing under golden showers? If they’re selling Darkfruit Strongbow in the concourses, it won’t just be splashes of gold flying about in the stands, but also pink and purple. Old Trafford, the Theatre of Dreams, will surely be known as the Theatre of Drinks. Getting drenched in beer may be enticing for the young football mavericks, but it’s certainly not for all match attendants. There’s Boxpark on an England matchday for that.
Tracey Crouch makes the point that half-time drinking means “we kettle people into drinking quickly”. There are compromises to be dealt with though when it comes to football and drinking. It would perhaps be too harsh on English football fans to introduce Scottish football drinking rules, which would mean that all alcohol is forbidden in a football ground. On the other hand, it would most likely be far too permissive to let stands across the country once again turn into beery water parks, and let stadiums’ staircases turn into sticky slip n’ slides.
There is also a strong sentiment among the British public that football fans simply can’t be trusted. As shown on the recent documentary series Fever Pitch: The Rise of the Premier League, The Times wrote that football in the 1980s was a “slum sport played in slum stadiums and increasingly watched by slum people”; many people believe that the culture of these darker times survives today; many perceived the scenes on Wembley Way in July to be the manifestation of this.
At first, the ban would only be lifted at lower leagues, so that data could be collected. Tracey Crouch’s main reason for lifting current restrictions on drinking was to help the lower league clubs, whose beer sales account for much of their annual income. Though it may be hypothetical to say so, mix beer with a sore defeat, and the pint cup could become an effective weapon for the football fan. You could see pint cups flying like arrows onto the pitch when the opposition scores, much like what the abusive Hungarian fans did against England. Matchday incomes earned might quickly be offloaded on FA fines and other policing costs. Then again, with that in mind, we could see more Declan Rice-inspired celebrations, where opposition players pretend to chug beer from cups. Surely, those celebrations would be so iconic that EA Sports would have no way of not including them in PEGI 3-rated FIFA games by 2024.
Booze seems set to return to football. The nature of this new age in drinking- a consolidated revival of hooliganism or the nativity for carnival atmospheres in football grounds?- will certainly be one to look out for.
My whole life, I have been an avid cricket fan. I began playing the sport aged 9 in my back garden with my Dad, and I seemed to have a knack for it. I self-taught myself to bowl and was coming out with some relative quickies in no time, at least for my age. This was all not long after the passing of my grandfather who himself had been a top player, representing his school side in just his first year at school. It seemed to be a way for my father and me to connect with the memory of my late grandfather whilst doing something we both know he would have been very proud of. It is, of course, a great regret of mine that the man I called ‘Gangar’ never got to see me play.
Cricket is a dying art; a game that, many say, is moving behind the times. With dark, imperial undertones, the success of the sport proliferated at home and throughout the Empire in the 19th century, intended to ‘civilise’ the natives of the colonies. The success of those such as Sachin Tendulkar and Virat Kohli in India, for example, are triumphs over such ignorance. But through their nation’s participation in a sport played almost exclusively by ex-British colonies, it is also an awkward reminder of both cricket and Britain’s imperial past.
The Ashes, too, was born out of this imperial context. After the first Australian win on English soil at The Oval in 1882, the satirical sports newspaper The Sporting Times claimed that English cricket had “died”, the body of which would be “cremated and the ashes taken to Australia”. The English captain of the next 1882-3 tour to Australia, Ivo Bligh, vowed to “regain those ashes”, which, in fact, he did.
Nearly 150 years later, we find ourselves as English fans in the same predicament that Mr Bligh found himself in 1882. The first test ended in Australia this year with an Aussie win by 9 wickets; the second by 275 runs; the third by an innings and 14 runs. As I write, Jonny Bairstow is 103 not-out in the fourth test; but his persistence seems rather futile. Nevertheless, I imagine it can’t hurt to score runs on Aussie soil.
The defeat Down Under however, is particularly worrying this year in light of the developments taking place behind the scenes at the ECB in the past couple of years. Test cricket is no longer a priority. Short-form games are prioritised, and receives most of the funding. The Hundred, a success, I will admit, is indicative of this neglect; and even though last summer was as brilliant as it was, particularly for the women’s game, this Ashes proved to be a test at the side’s resolve and capabilities at the long form of the game. Australia does, of course, have the Big Bash, but evidently is better at balancing its short and long-form foci. Perhaps lessons could be learnt from our Aussie cousins; I would advise they should be, however hard it may be.
This leaves English cricket in a precarious predicament at the dawn of 2022. It is not a sport, perhaps, that is attractive to younger audiences; nor is the testteam at a level where the country is as captivated by their talent as we were last summer with the football at the European Championships, though the one-day sides are quite impressive. It is, indeed, a dying art. Or is it evolving? As a purest, I see its supposed ‘evolution’ as dangerous, and lacking precedent. The Ashes, a source of national pride but also one of the most fantastic athletic spectacles on the planet, cannot continue to fade into the abyss as this series threatens for the English. But perhaps this is a case of “adapt or die”. I know the game I fell in love with as a child, that I remember my grandfather through, will not be the same again in the 21st century. But what I do know is that I wish it to survive. My mind is not made up yet as to how, but in light of the Ashes, it appears it might be made up for me sooner rather than later.
