Wednesday 13th May 2026
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Magdalen President wins case against same sex couples’ right to marry

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The Oxford University LGBTQ+ Society and the African Caribbean Society have released a joint statement expressing a “deep sadness” about the recent Privy Council judgement in favour of the Cayman Island Government and against same sex couples’ right to marry. The letter condemns Dinah Rose’s, the President of Magdalen College, success in representing the Cayman Islands in the Privy Council case. 

The case was held on the issue of same sex marriage in both the Cayman Islands and Bermuda. In the Cayman Islands’ case, the ruling was unanimous, deciding that the matter was one of choice for the legislative assembly, rather than a right granted by the Caymanian Constitution. 

The joint statement expressed that the outcome of the case “denies LGBTQ+ Caymanians, who are also British citizens, full equality, their human dignity, and continues to uphold the segregation of LGBTQ+ people in the region.”

“It also regrettably reconfirms the lack of LGTQ+ rights in British Overseas Territories and the disinterest of the UK Government in promoting equality for all British citizens,” they added. 

The Cayman Islands Government was successfully represented by barrister Dinah Rose QC, who said the Constitution is “crystal clear,” and there is no right to marry for gay couples. 

In the statement released, the OULGBTQ+ Society reiterated its stance that “it is an unacceptable conflict of interest for serving College Heads to be involved in homophobic litigation, seeking to entrench inequality and segregation of LGBTQ+ British citizens in a British Overseas Territory.”

The statement references Magdalen’s Equality Policy, which provides that College staff must have “due regard to removing or minimising advantages suffered by people due to protected characteristics found in the Equality Act 2010, which includes sexual orientation.” 

The two societies wrote that “irrespective of Ms DInah Rose’s private views on LGBTQ+ rights, her role as counsel for the Cayman Government entailed a duty to fight for her client’s best, homophobic, interests to the best of her ability, running counter to her LGBTQ+ and ethnic minority students’ best interests, the College’s Equality Policy, and the general reputational interests and pastoral duties of any Oxford College Head.”

Rose has previously faced criticism amongst the student body surrounding a perceived conflict of interest between her duties as President of Magdalen College and as a professional barrister.

When faced with such criticisms, Rose cited her being bound by the cab rank rule. The cab rank rule applies to a number of courts, including the Privy Council, which obliges a barrister to accept an instruction to appear in a court sitting in England in an area of expertise pertaining to the barrister, and issued when the barrister is available to act. 

Rose has said that if she were to succumb to pressure to cease to act on the case, she would be committing an act of “serious professional misconduct.” 

On the topic of the cab rank rule, the joint statement expressed: “We are not asking for lawyers to be identified with the clients they represent. We merely ask that serving College Heads do not engage in activities which adversely impact marginalised minority groups. At times, acting for a client as legal counsel will entail exactly that.”

“Specifically, regardless of its legal nature, the cab rank rule should not serve as the litmus test as to whether College Head duties were complied with, and a conflict of interest exists. The starting point for this question is, and must be, the equality policy and other Governance rules of a respective college.”

The outgoing President of the OULGBTQ+ Society, Clay Nash, said that Rose never publicly disagreed with the precise matter of the case and her client’s aims, calling this lack of public statement “not surprising given her duty to act in the client’s best interests.” Nash shared that the main opportunity that student’s received to inquire about the matter was a “confidential, closed-off meeting which [Rose] explicitly warned students was strictly confidential.” 

The OULGBTQ+ Society attempted twice to discover through Freedom of Information requests whether or not Rose had disclosed the nature and content matter of the case to Magdalen in advance of her assumption of her position of President, including who she was representing, and whether or not the Magdalen LGBTQ+ Officers were able to review this information when considering her for the position. Having not received the relevant information, Nash commented that “this matter of accountability, and whether the Magdalen Governing Board failed its due diligence in the selection process, remain unknown.”

On this issue, Nash told Cherwell: “This situation has highlighted a major and dangerous omission in College and University policy that leaves marginalised students within Oxford vulnerable. There should be no opportunity for the external work of College Heads to conflict with their pre-eminent role and their pastoral duties. I have no doubt that if formal policy on this matter is not introduced, another situation similar to this will arise in the future and it will once again be the most marginalised that are the worst affected.” Nash proposed a series of policy recommendations to the Conference of Colleges and the University in order to address this. So far, none of the policy recommandations have been implemented.

The joint letter also highlighted that “one cannot ignore the racial dynamics at play here as Caribbean students have historically faced prejudice and discrimination at the hands of Britain and the University. Ms Rose’s involvement is a continuation of that legacy.”

Savannah Stanislaus, the Senior Welfare Officer and LGBTQ+ Representative of the African Caribbean Society, told Cherwell: “I am beyond disappointed by the outcome  regarding the Cayman Islands same-sex marriage case and I expect that many share this feeling of despair with me. Since it was announced last year that the President of Magdalen College, Ms Dinah Rose, would be representing the Caymanian Government in this case, there has been an outpour of support from fellow students for the LGBTQ+ community within Oxford as well as for the couple in question.”

“However, the Caribbean community and by extension the black community within Oxford have not been given this same support, as there has been little attention to the colonial and racial elements of this case. Ms Dinah Rose has not only failed the LGBT+ community in and outside of Oxford but she has also exercised her systemic privilege in this case and has directly contributed to the on-going legacy of white supremacy and colonialism. Ms Dinah Rose has sent the message loud and clear that Caribbean students and those who are Caribbean and LGBTQ+ that our lives and wellbeing are insignificant to her. She has contributed to an already dangerous culture of discrimination and bigotry for Caribbean and LGBTQ+ students. I ask that you don’t allows us Caribbean and Caribbean LGBT+ students to be drowned out by the voices of those less affected by this. We matter.”

The societies extended their “heartfelt sympathies” to Chantelle and Vickie, the couple who brought the case and subsequently appealed it, and whose “enormous efforts over multiple years had sought to vindicate LGBTQ+ rights in the Cayman Islands.” 

The University of Oxford, Magdalen College, and Dinah Rose were approached for comment. 

Image Credit: Diliff / CC BY-SA 3.0

Oli Hall’s Oxford United Updates – W9

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Weekly Round-Up

It was a mixed set of results this week for Oxford United as the women’s side took an uncharacteristic stumble in their promotion push.  The men and the U18s more than made up for it though with more late drama keeping the Us in League One playoff contention.

Wednesday night saw the club’s first action of the week with the women hosting Southampton at Court Place Farm in front of a record crowd of 505.  The Saints looked on track to spoil the party after taking the lead inside seven minutes through Alisha Ware.  The Yellows began to come into the game more though and the equaliser on the brink of half-time proved enough to earn them a well-earned point.

Chris Hackett’s U18s kicked off the weekend’s action with their first win of the season in the Merit League.  Playing away to Portsmouth, the youngsters played out a tight encounter and got the breakthrough when Josh Johnson finished off an Elijah Coe ball in.  The Us then defended well and saw out a good result against a high-achieving Pompey side.

The senior men were up next in the three o’clock kick-off and yet again they brought the drama.  United travelled to Shrewsbury and took a deserved lead through Matty Taylor after eleven minutes.  They failed to make the most of their other chances though and Ryan Bowman got the crowd going again with an equaliser on the hour mark.  Cameron Brannagan had other ideas though and converted from the spot with eight minutes left to play to seal all three points.

Sunday saw the women’s long unbeaten streak ended at MK Dons in a big dent to their title challenge.  They missed chances in the first half that they would have taken on another day and the home side made them pay just before the hour mark.  The Us came back into the game after that but couldn’t find an equaliser, meaning the game went on to finish 1-0.

The week ended with the news of Northern Ireland call-ups for both Gavin Whyte and Ciaron Brown, a fine reflection of their form so far this season.

So, as the week comes to an end the men are sitting fourth in League One with a two-point gap to Sunderland below them.  The women are now four points off title rivals Ipswich after dropping points twice in the same week for the first time this season.

Match Report:  Shrewsbury Town 1-2 Oxford United

Oxford United made a big statement as they got back to winning ways with victory away to Shrewsbury Town on Saturday.  

The day had started badly for Oxford fans with the news that Jack Stevens, Sam Long and Ciaron Brown were all ruled out with illness.  They only added to the injury woes of inform Sam Baldock to leave the visitors in a situation that most sides would struggle to deal with.  It also meant that John Mousinho took the captain’s armband as he played for the first time in the league since 2020.

The home team started the game brightest: full of energy and attacking prowess they forced early blocks from centre-backs Seddon and Mousinho.  It wasn’t long before Oxford started to show their class though and on the eleven-minute mark, Herbie Kane’s pass found Gavin Whyte, who forced a save from Marosi in the home net.  The rebound fell kindly for Matty Taylor and Oxford’s top scorer smashed home to give the Us the lead.

The Shrews refused to go away and tested throughout the first half.  In spite of that, Oxford stood stayed resolute and were good value for their lead at half-time.

That finally changed with an hour gone:  Ryan Bowman got into a great position inside the United six-yard box and finished off a superb delivery from winger Elliot Bennett for the Shrewsbury equaliser.

After that, it was anyone’s game but it was Oxford who showed the desire and forced the issue in the final ten minutes yet again.  Ryan Williams sprinted the length of the pitch and went down under the challenge of Bennett to earn a vital penalty for the visitors.  Cameron Brannagan kept his calm from the spot and converted to win a huge three points for the Yellows, sending the travelling fans into raptures.

The game sees United sure up their play-off position.  They stay fourth, two points above Sunderland in fifth and just five points off MK Dons and Wigan above them.  A tough challenge awaits next Saturday when they welcome Ipswich to the Kassam but United have put themselves in a good place with eight games to go.

Image: Darrell Fisher

‘Heartbreaking and beautiful’ – Review: Brain Freeze

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I was filled with excited anticipation when I braved Storm Eunice to visit the BT Studio last week. I was aware that Debora Krut’s original play Brain Freeze was a semi-autobiographical piece about sex and cancer but, from this description, I didn’t quite know what to expect. However, from the play’s beginning, this immensely talented cast of Oxford students captured my imagination, and I was swept up by the story they had to tell.

Brain Freeze follows a young woman – simply referred to as ‘Patient’ to preserve her anonymity – who is diagnosed with cancer, exploring her subsequent struggle to sexually reconnect with a body that has failed her. The narrative is framed by an oncologist lecturing a group of medical students (the audience), using Patient’s case to teach them about the importance of empathy and the difficulties in delivering heart breaking news day after day.

The opening of the show was ingenious, with Oncologist’s introductory lecture seamlessly weaving in the content warnings and setting the scene for Patient’s story. Michael Freeman was perfect for this role. He was an incredibly believable lecturer – to the point where I was often tempted to raise my hand when he asked for student participation – but he also explored a tender vulnerability to this medical professional, particularly in his conversation scenes with Patient. To switch so rapidly between narrating the story and acting within it can’t have been easy, but Freeman handled this complex character expertly.

Grace de Souza equally shone as Patient. Her range was impressive; I often found myself alternating between tears and laughter within the space of a few lines of dialogue whenever she was on stage. My favourite moment was Patient’s vulnerability before her routine scan, just after she has experienced a mental block when trying to have sex with her boyfriend again for the first time. Her fear was tangible, and de Souza’s portrayal of this intense anxiety was heart-breaking and beautiful in equal measures.

Peter Todd as Boyfriend and Emma Pollock as Best Friend also deserve the highest praise for their performances. Todd’s portrayal of Boyfriend captured the guilt and panic of watching someone you love suffer, and his tender moments with Patient were achingly stunning. The macaroon metaphor used throughout the play served as a symbol of hope and new beginnings, and Boyfriend presenting this to Patient at the end of the play – after Todd’s anguished, silent pacing just moments before – gave me a lump in my throat. As well as this tenderness, Boyfriend had a convincing (and amusing) relationship with Best Friend. Pollock’s performance, as I keep praising in this cast, had incredible range, and her scene with the sex toys was one of the funniest moments of the play. A mention must also be given here to the lighting inside her bag, a very clever way of drawing attention to the intimidating ‘something’ that lay within. Pollock’s frank portrayal was perfect to capture Best Friend’s fierce loyalty, but it worked equally well in her tender moments with Patient, such as agreeing to stay up all night to comfort her friend.

One of the play’s highlights was the scene featuring the three ‘Nosy Bitches’, busybodies who couldn’t help but ask probing and invasive questions when they spotted Patient in a pub. Macy Stasiak, Luke Nixon and Alec Watson were laugh-out-loud funny without becoming caricatures: like the rest of this fantastic play, this scene was perfectly pitched, and didn’t feel exaggerated or slapstick. Stasiak’s interaction with Best Friend was a stand-out moment, and Pollock’s range shone once more in this scene, deftly moving between drunk anger and concerned kindness within minutes.

The BT was the perfect venue for this production, and a mention must also be given to the technical aspects. The simple set was ideal, with actors often manipulating set pieces to create different spaces. The lighting was immaculate, particularly when Patient and Boyfriend were trying to have sex again, switching between warm, intimate tones to cool, stark ones to represent Patient pushing Boyfriend away. Additionally, the repeated MRI sound used throughout seemed to simulate Patient’s building panic, cutting across conversations to represent that Patient was unable to escape her anxiety. My only minor criticism was that the pauses while Patient and Boyfriend were texting one another felt a touch too long, but that was immediately forgotten due to the perfect comedic timing of this stellar cast.

When I opened my notes app once Brain Freeze had finished, I simply typed ‘Debora Krut is a very clever lady’. That couldn’t be more true: alongside a stunning cast and an evidently dedicated production team, Krut has created a show that wouldn’t be out of place in a professional setting like the Edinburgh Fringe. I have no doubt that this won’t be the last we see from Last Minute Productions, and I cannot wait to see what this company does next.

Image: Debora Krut

Elitism and colonialism’s residue: Pakistan’s education system is in crisis

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Pakistan’s education system has failed the nation’s youth as elitism and remnants of colonialism have intensified inequalities in the new generations. The widespread requirements of English proficiency have distorted the schooling system’s ability to a successfully educate its youth.

Pakistan was described as “among the world’s worst performing countries in education,” at the 2015 Oslo Summit on Education and Development. Whilst some steps have been taken since to improve young people’s prospects, the problem is innate, with the key issue being class divides. Despite having gained independence from Britain 73 years ago, the country’s convoluted relationship with its past continues to hinder progress for working class households. The nation’s affluent class is characterised by their preservation of British customs and the English language, resulting in it being adopted as an official language of Pakistan. This has brought about a society in which intellectualism is equated with English proficiency, whilst fluency in the language has become a prerequisite for many professional jobs.

According to the Pakistan Social and Living Standards Measurement Survey, conducted by the Pakistan Bureau of Statistics in 2019, 37% of all children attending school are studying at private institutions, where teaching is in English. This number seems mismatched considering the country’s high levels of poverty. However, it is reflective of the growing elitism in Pakistan as well as the desire of working-class parents to equip their children with the language requirements necessary to obtain professional jobs. This has been one of the key causes of the country’s failure to successfully educate its youth as those attending government schools are immediately excluded from skilled job opportunities due to their lack of English fluency. On the other hand, students attending low grade private schools, where many teachers themselves do not have an adequate grasp of the English language, resort to rote learning as they face the challenge of not only learning the curriculum, but also grappling with understanding a foreign language.

The inequalities will continue to worsen with the newest education reform: the introduction of the Single National Curriculum (SNC). On the surface, this appears to be a suitable solution to the disparities in the Pakistani education system. However, the SNC is anything but singular. The elite private schools are exempt and are free to follow their own curriculum, thereby only fortifying existing inequalities, rather than raising standards across the board.

Those that are studying in government schools are faced with separate challenges, most notably a lack of teaching resources and poor infrastructure, as well as high rates of teacher absenteeism. According to UN guidance, Pakistan should spend at least 15 to 20% of the total national budget and 4 to 6% of GDP in education. Yet, in 2017, the government spent just 2.8% of GDP on education, illustrating the state’s abdication of responsibility for the nation’s youth.

The issue of effective education is particularly crucial considering Pakistan has one of the world’s youngest populations. According to the 2019 Human Development Report, the median age in Pakistan is 22.8 and is only expected to increase a mere 8 years by 2050. With 35.1% of the population between the ages of 0 and 14, education standards must be improved or else the youth bulge threatens to hamper economic growth for several decades to come. 

If the young masses can be successfully educated, they have the potential to revitalise Pakistan’s struggling economy and create a prosperous future. However, in the current climate, with elitism continuing to thrive and inequalities intensifying, this seems to be a Herculean task.

Image: Sam Phelps/CC BY-NC 2.0 via Flickr

A recovery toolkit to anorexia

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CW – anorexia, mentions of hospitals 

Eating disorders are very deceptive. I used to read all those clichés about your eating disorder being your ‘best friend’, a ‘comfort blanket’ and struggle to see how anyone could ever think that. But those very same ‘clichés’ are the bitter truth – an eating disorder CAN be a diet gone wrong, a ‘diet’ which can evolve into the ultimate slippery slope to total self-destruction and misery. You struggle to make rational decisions. This is known as ‘starvation syndrome’ – something that reassured me, in that it was a medical condition with a concrete name. Remember, if you have an eating disorder, you are unwell, you do deserve treatment and you can get better. 

The fall 

My eating disorder started when I was 16, primarily fuelled by a lack of body satisfaction and major traits of perfectionism. I am not going into detail about how much weight I lost, or my lowest weight but I can tell you it was a terrifying period in my life. 

Over the next 3 years, I got more and more unwell and really resisted treatment. This is where I would like to point out the benefits of medication in (anorexia) treatment. Of course, SSRIs (Selective Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitors), also known as antidepressants, are not for everyone. Talk to your doctor and then give them a chance, is my advice. 

The media 

As much as recovery accounts on social media can provide a positive community, they can also make your struggles feel invalid. Unfortunately for me, the latter was the case. All eating disorders are valid – hold on to that. Why not steer clear of social media and instead focus on activities which make you feel more like you. For example, although I found bedrest very challenging, it was a great way for me to focus on recovery and learn to be at peace with myself. 

Social media, particularly TikTok, can also thoroughly glamourise eating disorders. Hospitals, contrary to the depiction of them on the app, are not places where you lip sync to songs or do cute dances with new friends. 

Hospitals are lonely. 

Hospitals are always noisy. 

Hospitals are mind-numbingly dull. 

The rise 

In early 2022, I had given up on recovery. I thought it was too hard, too confusing, too abstract. This was one of the worst decisions I have ever made. Recovery is hard, sure, but it only gets easier. 

Isn’t maintaining an eating disorder harder? 

Recovery is confusing – it is not black and white and there is no one who can do it for you. This is where specialist eating disorder services can guide and support you. Recovery is abstract – it is not the same for anyone but that is the beauty of it. ‘Abstract’ is not synonymous with ‘bad’; ‘hope’ is abstract, ‘peace’ is abstract, so too is ‘contentment’. 

My recovery is not complete. There are still storms but there are always rays of sunshine afterwards. Through talking, medication and proper nourishment, I am recovering every day.

Anorexia gets weaker, less powerful and more insignificant and I get stronger, happier and much more free.

Image: NIKHIL via unsplash

In Conversation with Katie Melua

Where do we come from? I mean, where does it all come from, all this? – the books that we read or skim; the computers that we frantically tap; the cultural values that press upon us in every decision we make? Some would posit the Egyptians, Greeks and Romans as the progenitors of our western society. Stories of names like Cleopatra, Socrates and Caesar abound in British accounts of ancient history, at least. However, Peter Frankopan, author of The Silk Roads: A New History of the World, points to Persia – loosely corresponding today to Iran and the -stan countries – as the bubbling cauldron from which much of the modern world emerged.

Indeed, this book and its particular rewriting of history sits at the heart of a collaborative project here in Oxford with Georgian-born singer-songwriter Katie Melua. In the coming weeks, she will be leading a series of songwriting workshops for students that will culminate in a concert at the Sheldonian in April. We recently had the opportunity to speak to Katie about the project.

When asked about her hopes for the workshops, Melua says that she wants first and foremost to ‘put on a beautiful show in April, with some exquisite pieces and songs; original songs that are written by the students.’ Her longer-term – and more grandiose – aim is to ‘create real deep interest in the art of songwriting from a lyrical point of view, not just a musical point of view.’ How will she know when this lofty goal has been realised? When, ‘in 10 to 15 years’ time,’ she ‘walk[s] into a store, perhaps at Christmas time, and hear[s] really great, uplifting, meaningful pieces of music, that aren’t just repeating the same, you know, over and over.’

If you do not already know who she is, Katie Melua is a musician who has achieved vast commercial success – in 2006 she was the UK’s best-selling female artist. She saw precocious fame when, at just 19, her debut topped UK album charts. Today, she is 37 and has released eight albums. Her songs are characterised by her rich singing voice and easy-listening arrangements that tussle with the sentimental.

‘One of the things that I’d like to focus on is a lyrical duty of care,’ Melua tells Clementine. She cites artists who she believes have this ‘duty of care’ – that she looks to cultivate in her workshops – in their lyrics: Joni Mitchell, Nick Cave, PJ Harvey. Melua remarks that in song – a performed medium – effective lyricism is constituted not just by the choice of words, but by a myriad of other adjacent linguistic considerations: dialect, intonation, pitch, pacing and accent. She is concerned about the neglect of these aspects in songwriting. ‘In the circles I have worked in, there is a much greater emphasis on musical writing than there is on the lyrical writing.’ Melua seeks to balance these two aspects of composition in these workshops, moving towards a lyrical ‘fluidity’ that she believes can sometimes go missing in a song.

It is the book The Silk Roads that has been chosen to inspire lyrical ‘fluidity’ and focus in the sessions. According to TORCH’s website, the book will aid participants ‘to write songs that explore journeys through time, geographies, and cultures.’ It seems a somewhat arbitrary choice of text – a tribute to the ‘humanities’ that the project must, perhaps artificially, incorporate. I have no doubt, though, that its author Peter Frankopan, Worcester College historian, will be pleased.

‘I hadn’t actually heard of the book until I started these talks with TORCH,’ Melua says, though is flexible in adapting to its suggestion. ‘I started reading it, and I thought it was phenomenal,’ she recounts, with adequate emphasis. Melua’s natural flair for displaying enthusiasm shines through in her answer here. She makes links to Georgia, the country in which she lived until she was eight, which lies precisely on the Euro-Asian trading routes that give Frankopan’s book its title. Melua then drifts into childhood reminiscences: ‘music was everywhere in Georgia,’ which meant she was able to move to the UK ‘…with great excitement, because it was the country where The Beatles and Led Zeppelin were from.’ Her story gleams against the backdrop, provided by Silk Roads, of cross-cultural journeying and migration.

We finished by asking Katie what words of wisdom she has to impart to the young creatives on the programme. Melua wants to make them aware of their ‘voices of influence’, by which she means the plethora of accents and vocabularies and vocal pacings that we encounter every day. These could be singers – Melua credits Bob Dylan and Joni Mitchell as having influenced her inner ear – or just the talk we overhear. ‘There can be positive voices of influence, and negative ones,’ she says, going on to give an anecdote about a manager of hers from whose mouth perennially comes the word ‘dude’. ‘Since working with him, I always use the word dude, too,’ she admits.

Katie Melua’s project is tangible, whilst maintaining grand vision. Its seeds are promising, and may flower into a thing of rare beauty. Whether in 10- or 15-years’ time we will walk into a store – perhaps around Christmas time – and hear really great, uplifting, meaningful pieces of music, remains to be seen. In the meantime, you can go and hear the songs written by the participants in their final concert on Thursday 28th April, at the Sheldonian Theatre.

The Hegelian Dialectic of James Gunn’s Peacemaker

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What links the superhero show Peacemaker with the work of 19th-century German philosopher Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel?

The obvious answer is “nothing at all” or “huh?”. Hegel’s work is considered infamously complex and boring, even by other philosophers; in contrast, Peacemaker is a show brimming with bloody fights, ridiculous characters, huge doses of dark comedy, and 1980s hair metal. They’re opposites in nearly every way—but Hegel’s theories can in fact shed light on what makes Peacemaker work. To explain this, we’ll have to look at James Gunn’s filmmaking style, 19th-century philosophy, and the history of Batman, but it’ll all make sense in the end somehow.

The aspect of Hegel’s work that’s relevant here is his concept of the dialectic. To simplify it to a ridiculous degree, it’s the philosophy that no idea is perfect. Let’s say you come up with an idea to solve a problem. But closer examination shows that the basic assumptions of this idea are contradictory, inherently incapable of dealing with the issue at hand. The dialectic is the process of confronting the contradictions in ideas, seeking to refine them into a better form.

Philosopher Michael Inwood compares this to mixing two chemicals; they might initially have opposite properties, but they’ll combine to form something new. However, Hegel believed that the dialectical process doesn’t end here: this new idea will also have flaws and contradictions, so back to the drawing board we go, in a constant process of moving towards capital-T Truth.

An example from Peacemaker’s plot might illustrate this more clearly. At the start of the show, Peacemaker wants to believe that killing criminals and obeying his father (a thoroughly nasty white-supremacist militant) makes the world a better place. But as the show goes on, he begins to see the contradictions in this belief, realizing that his father’s a monstrous villain, while the enemies he fights might not be as unambiguously evil as he initially believed. And in the finale, he reconciles the contradictions in his worldview, finding a new way of fighting and sacrificing for peace.

Having briefly explained Hegel’s dialectic, let’s now turn and look at the history of Batman. As every review of The Batman will tell you, this latest movie might be the darkest adaptation of the Caped Crusader yet. Matt Reeves’ movie explores political corruption, online radicalization and Bruce Wayne’s tortured psyche—very unlike the 1966 Adam West Batman movie, with its bright colors and goofy Bat-gadgets. Adam West’s take on the character is very unlike the approach of most modern Batman stories, but it’s important to recognize that it’s a faithful adaptation of what the character was like in the period roughly between the 1950s and ‘60s, when Batman inhabited a simple, colorful world where the good guys always defeated the bad guys. That vision of Batman is as valid an interpretation of the character as the one seen in 21st-century adaptations.

I loved every second of The Batman, but (like every single comics adaptation) it has to pick and choose which aspects of the titular character to focus on, which in this movie’s case is to pull almost exclusively from the darker approach to comics storytelling that began to be popularized in the 1970s. The same, however, cannot be said for James Gunn’s Peacemaker.

The show embraces the goofiness of the titular character, kitting him out in a colorful costume that perfectly imitates his comics outfit, and having him take on an alien invasion and a talking gorilla, plots right out of the campy storylines of the mid-20th-century. But the show also deals with serious themes, most prominently the titular hero’s abusive upbringing and warped view of militant patriotism, and his attempts to grow beyond both. He’s a character who once saw the world in a simple black-and-white way, confronting the complexities of real life.

To put it in Hegelian terms, early superhero comics offered one solution to portraying these characters: as cheery, colorful figures aimed at an audience of children. The Batman, and many modern comics, can now aim at a more adult audience with bleaker, nuanced stories. But just as the former approach isn’t very thematically complex, the latter approach can sometimes miss the joyful humour that turned generations of kids into comics fans. Peacemaker represents the concluding phase of the dialectical process, mixing these two ingredients to form a new compound that reflects the best of both worlds.

Of course, Peacemaker isn’t the final phase in this dialectic, especially considering how decidedly adult and R-rated the show is. Nor is it the first or most influential superhero story to combine elements of different comics eras—it only happens to be a particularly recent and successful example. But each attempt to portray these characters is one step in the dialectical process of how superheroes develop. Each attempt contributes something to the overall answer—yes, even the much-reviled Batman and Robin (and for the record, I unironically love the way Gotham City looks in the movie, and some of the songs on the soundtrack are just awesome). In this broader picture, everything has its own value—the uniformity of Marvel’s shared universe and the DCEU’s range of directorial styles, the simple pleasure of early comics and the complexity of modern ones.

I don’t pretend to be able to solve the riddle of what style (or range of styles) would create the perfect superhero adaptation, not when Hollywood’s armies of market researchers and writers haven’t found that answer just yet. But my instinct is that the gonzo ridiculousness of Peacemaker is part of the solution—a demonstration that there’s no contradiction between contemporary complexity and classic charm.

Was this a pointlessly complicated way of saying that this show mixes different parts of comics history? Yes. But in the dialectical process of developing how we write about superhero fiction, imperfection’s to be expected.

Artwork by Wang Sum Luk. Image credit: andreas160578//Pixabay, Projekt_Kaffeebart//Pixabay

The Meaning Of Motherhood: Spencer and Parallel Mothers

A well-worn piece of wisdom is that death is the only guarantee in life. But this life presupposes another guarantee: you were born. Life, death, and birth are all present in Pablo Larraín’s Spencer and Pedro Almodóvar’s Parallel Mothers. Both films address, in different ways, what the meaning of motherhood is.

Although at very different points in their career, Larraín and Almodóvar are united through being Hispanophone directors – the former is Chilean and the latter Spanish – whose work centres around women. Larraín’s breakout English-language film was Jackie, his 2016 biopic about Jackie Kennedy’s experience during and after her husband’s assassination, and despite the androcentric focus of his earlier work, his past four projects have all featured women as protagonists. Almodóvar has spent much of his fifty years in filmmaking making films about women, such as his Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown (1988) and Talk to Her (2002). Both directors, however, especially focus on mothers – a focus which has reached its best expression yet in their most recent work.

Parallel Mothers (or Madres Paralelas) features Penelope Cruz as Janis – a photographer in her late thirties. The film begins with Janis doing a photoshoot with a forensic archaeologist named Arturo. After the shoot, Janis asks Arturo if he and his foundation would excavate a mass grave in her village. She informs him that she believes that her great-grandfather, who was murdered by fascists during the Spanish Civil War, is buried there alongside several other men. Arturo agrees; they begin to sleep together, only for Janis to become pregnant. Arturo asks her to abort the child as he has a wife undergoing chemotherapy, a request that Janis rejects, citing her age and desire to have a child.  

The film proceeds as a gradual revelation of the unity of these two, seemingly disparate, subjects: of death and life, past and future, the personal and the political. This revelation is mediated through a flirtation with melodrama that is characteristic of Almodóvar’s films. Janis gives birth alongside a teenaged mother-to-be called Ana, Arturo avoids Janis and their child Anita as he cannot recognise himself in her, Janis discovers that she is not the mother of Anita, she then finds out that Ana’s child died of crib death. After inviting Ana to become a live-in nanny for Anita, Janis secretly makes Ana take a maternity test, only for the results to confirm her suspicions that Ana is the mother of Anita, and that their children were accidentally swapped at birth. Janis does not tell Ana the truth – later saying that she could not bear to lose her child twice – but her guilt becomes overwhelming as the two begin sleeping together. Nonetheless, it remains only a flirtation with melodrama, because despite the twists and turns of the plot, Almodóvar’s deftness as a story-teller and director ensures that the tone is never melodramatic. Tragedy is never dwelt on more than it needs to, and at times scenes of an emotional nature are cut short in what might seem is a jarring way. This makes sense in the context of the film: these events are tragic, but they also become part of the background of the character’s daily life. As they move on, so does the film. The film ends with Janis telling Ana the truth, their painful reconciliation, and the excavation of the mass grave by Arturo and his team.

Spencer features Kristen Stewart as Diana Spencer and is set during the royal family’s Christmas holidays at the Sandringham estate. The film covers three days – Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, Boxing Day – during which Diana decides to separate from Prince Charles. Like Jackie, Spencer presents an intimate portrait of an iconic woman whose interiority is lost (or perhaps neglected) as a result of her public persona and relation to tragedy. Both films are a reminder of the humanity of people who have been reduced to the status of celebrity or historical figure. Larraín and Stewart accomplish this through intimately representing Diana’s psyche: we see her struggles with depression and bulimia, but also the moments of joy she manages to have during her stay. Diana is almost driven to suicide – prevented by her hallucination of Anne Boleyn – and on Boxing Day decides to leave the estate with her two sons. The film ends on a bittersweet note: Diana looks over the Thames, confident in the knowledge that for the first time in over ten years, she has the opportunity to be happy as an independent woman and mother. The viewer knows, though, that this opportunity is eventually cut short.

That Spencer ends with Diana being accompanied by only her children is no coincidence. Throughout the film, Diana’s relationship with her children is presented as one of the only properly human interactions afforded to her. Diana’s interactions with the royal family range from stilted to actively hostile; her interactions with her children – which include silly midnight games and tender moments of comfort – are joyful and relaxed. Even when Diana is overwhelmed, she still turns to her children as people she can trust, despite their young age. Early on in the film, Diana asks her boys to let her know if she begins to act silly, as they’re the only ones she believes. There is an irony in Diana’s motherhood, what in more cynical terms could have put as her duty to bear children for the future king, offering her one of the only sources of reprieve against the suffocating royal family. When Diana leaves the royal family she takes her children, because being a mother on her own terms, rather than the royal family’s terms, is necessary for her to be herself – Diana Spencer, and not Princess Diana.

If Spencer is about a mother, then MP is about mothers and motherhood in general. The eponymous parallel mothers of the film – Janis and Ana – are mirrored in their own mothers. In an interview Almodóvar claimed that both women are orphans in their own way. We discover that Janis’ mother died of an overdose at 27; Ana’s mother, who is alive and features prominently, essentially abandoned her to her father so that she could pursue an acting career. The relationship of each woman to her own mother inevitably frames her own experience of motherhood, with both Janis and Ana attempting to be the mother their mothers either couldn’t or wouldn’t be. Their futures as mothers depends on their past as children.

The past asserts its presence in other ways too. Janis’ life has invariably been shaped by the trauma of her great-grandfather’s death. His murder marked an absence in her grandmother’s life which, like a black hole, came to refract and reflect on everything around it – a process which her own mother came to experience. That the grief was sustained across generations, was not a result of an unwillingness of the family to move on, but of an inability. This inability was caused by the brute fact that Janis’ great-grandfather remained buried in a ditch dug by his own hand. The absence of any proper burial or gravesite for Janis’ great-grandfather is what sustains his felt absence in the lives of his descendants.

What defines the difference in the treatment of motherhood in both films is the framework in which it takes place. In Spencer, motherhood is not a wider phenomena but rather a vital component in Diana’s life – one that sustains her during her time at Sandringham and one that gives her hope afterwards. Larraín treats motherhood as an intensely personal and individual experience. In Parallel Mothers, motherhood is inseparable from the wider structures of family and kinship, and these in turn are inseparable from the even wider historical and political context that shapes one’s life. We should not understand these as opposing perspectives, contrasting the personal with the political, but rather as two complementary perspectives that take different emphases on a single subject. It is only through taking these different perspectives, attending to variations in experiences and setting, that we can come to begin to appreciate through film what it means to be a mother. 

Artwork by Wang Sum Luk. Image credit: angel4leon//Pixabay

La Vie en Rose: The new teacher

She entered with big doughy eyes and a welcoming self-effacing buzz-cut – making her seem above the superficial and the hair-possessing. She looks a bit like my childhood piano teacher, Dailyn, (whom I adored, in fact so much so that I performed upon her my very exclusive electric pen trick – which in hindsight I’m not sure she appreciated as much as I thought, as she was soon summoned back to America for some very important concert – never to be seen again). She is a new teacher, about 26, and turned up a couple months ago, wearing relaxed forest-green flairs and unassuming but cool high-top converse. I thought “phew, someone young that I can talk to during my breaks”. She strides into the classroom, stands up, with an encouraging radiant beam, as she patiently waits a minute for the year 9 class to quiet down. Then, fuelled by a deep, warm breath, as though she were about to sing Carmen’s first aria, exclaims “SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

You can imagine my surprise when the sugarglider-looking newbie emitted this first introductory cry. Not quite the operatic aria I was expecting. I think the class was slightly taken aback too, as their previously life-or-death, unpostponable consultations came to a sudden halt and their greasy post-PE heads spun round 360 faster than I can chug a G&T (and that’s fast). They looked at me as if to beckon an explanation but I was occupied having a very important consultation of my own with the radiator to my left. Once again, she smiled, and with a twinkle in her left eye, said “you guys are the special ones right?” Then theatrically slowly “Theee sliiiightly sloooow ones?” She then turned to me and asked me the same question. My response was something between a mumble and a distressed seal’s yelp . “The class that I was told need a bit of extra attention?” Once the French kids clocked what she was saying they began fanatically shaking their heads and the guy with the uncanny resemblance to the little boy in UP exclaimed “No?! We are ze normal! We normal!” She then turned to me with a sarcastic grin, and went “really?” but I could no longer justify creepily ogling the radiator and had to find some other object, so I opted for the boy at the front’s greasy bleached blonde front quiff.

I quickly realized that everything I previously found warm and welcoming about this woman was to be subverted. I was to attribute the opposite emotion to all of her facial expressions: a glare to her grin, a demonic red lens to her charming twinkle, and even maybe long auburn 2016 Tumblr locks to her buzzcut. The next two weeks I found myself doing the thing that I do best when I am uncomfortable around someone. Compliment Vomit. It went from her high-top converse to “I’ve never seen that kind of agenda. It’s the coolest agenda I’ve ever seen. Wow. Where did you get it?” And luckily, she took kindly to the sycophantic spew. Her initially deceptive encouraging side did come through at times when she pushed the silent class to speak. “Come on guys. The only way to learn is if you try!” So, the girl with the dip-died lob and the lazy eye stuttered an attempt at the sentence. Buzz-cut jolly chops turned first to me (she does this, which makes it seem like I agree with whatever is about to come out of her mouth next) and then to the terrorised girl and softly uttered “I wish someone would tell you how stupid you look when speaking.”  I don’t know whether the fact that they may not actually understand what she’s saying to them is better or worse.

 In the same way that after a dinner I ask if I can help tidy once there are two cups left on the table and the surface has been cleaned, at times I look at her with a faux-complicitous apologetic smile and swallow a piteous “canIhelp…”, as – even though it may seem like I am just a girl in a miniskirt and earphones who just enjoys floating about this French school’s blue corridors at 2pm on a Tuesday afternoon, sporadically floating in and out of classrooms and occupying a seat – I am, after all, the assistant teacher.

The moments when she seems to shine are when the kids are working peacefully. The perfectly quiet and most harmoniously peaceful hour is her battle cry. They were sitting, pacifically completing an exercise, when she turned to me, with a smile I earned through compliment puke, and with kind, cheery eyes (remember the subversion) went “I just hate them, you know?”  in the same way an old lady in a rocking chair might smile to herself and exhale an “ahhh, how I’ve relished life.” And as though reading my “why the hell are you a teacher then” thoughts, she added: “I just use them to take my anger out. You know?” then sat back and contemplatively looked out of the window and noted “I’m a very happy person.”

Also, the way in which she manspreads in the staffroom, compared to how I try to take up 1/4th of the right-hand sofa cushion, is remarkable.

I sometimes wonder, why teach if you hate children? But then again why do I run if I hate running. Or why do people drink coffee if they hate coffee. And I wonder if she’s like that in her personal life too. I’m picturing her with a group of people and turning to the guy next to her, and sweetly whispering “I wish you knew how putrid you look when sipping your beer.” But essentially, she did make me realise how unassertive I am in these kinds of authoritative environments. I mean my initial goal was to walk into the staff room full of soup-sipping 50year old French professional complainers without apologising for my existence and the oxygen I am taking, but perhaps I should change it to marching in, and with one swift movement removing all of their soups and salads from the table, laying my feet there and declaring “vous êtes tous des petits cons.”

Image Credit: Public Domain

Student safety is not a joke: Clubs need to do better

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To begin with, it was your standard Thursday night in Oxford. After a chaotic sports social, my friends and I stumbled excitedly down to Bridge where we danced the evening away, giggling at the frenzied scene before us. Everything was just as it should be; that is, until I was suddenly apprehended by one of the bouncers. Out of nowhere, he began to shout at me and accuse me of taking drugs, informing me that I must leave. Given that I knew he was lying, I initially resisted and tired to plead my case; this only drove him to grab my arm and forcefully take me outside where he proceeded to empty the contents of my bag. Throughout, I constantly repeated the same thing: that I hadn’t done anything wrong and so could I please go back inside and join my friends. If any of the bouncers had a shred of concern for my safety they would have listened. Clearly they did not. Despite not finding any drugs, and having no concrete reason for doing so, they demanded that I leave immediately. Not only did they prevent me from going inside to get my coat, but they even denied my request to find a friend to leave with me, despite my rather lengthy explanation about the dangers of walking alone to my house in Cowley. I was simply turned away without a second thought. 

Thankfully, I managed to get back safely, but this was pure luck. My phone was out of charge, it was 2am and I was facing a 45 minute journey home alone. In the current climate, where discussions around women’s safety are finally getting the awareness they deserve, you would think the bouncers would have prioritised my wellbeing over their need for a power trip. You would think that they would have asked for my consent before physically manhandling me and searching through my personal belongings. 

Perhaps, if this were some random, isolated incident, one could argue it was all a simple misunderstanding. However, when explaining what happened to my friends, I was met with a chorus of voices relating to my experience. All around me were young people who had been placed in vulnerable positions that could have easily been avoided. Some had fallen victim to the ‘drugs’ accusation, and were kicked out after none were found, while others were forced to wait alone on the street for taxis, despite pleading with the bouncers to wait inside. These seemingly small decisions can have devastating impacts. Of course, when students are too drunk to enter, clubs have every right to deny them entry; but even in such cases, those in charge must still ensure they are not placing students in unreasonably dangerous situations.

A few weeks ago when my friend was turned away, they failed to check if she had someone to leave with. On the journey home, which she has no memory of, not only did she lose her phone, passport and shoes, but she then had to be escorted home by the police. The point is not that she shouldn’t have been kicked out; the point is that she shouldn’t have been kicked out alone. 

Clubs need to do better. As a student, you place your trust in these institutions to create a safe environment which you can enjoy. Last night, the bouncers violated my personal space and privacy; two male strangers used physical force to drag me outside, placing me in a highly vulnerable position. 4 out of 5 women feel unsafe walking home at night. Throwing people out onto the streets for no apparent reason is more than ridiculous. It’s dangerous. 

It is time for clubs to change their policies and attitudes. These examples are part of a much wider issue endemic within the nightlife industry. Club managers and bouncers simply do not care about the wellbeing of those who dance away inside their venues. They don’t care about spiking; plastic lids on cups are still nowhere to be found. They don’t care about groping; at the very best men are simply asked to leave, with no formal action ever taken. There exists an attitude of indifference, verging on hostility, lying beneath a shiny exterior. While they promise a night of fun and revelry, they do nothing to prevent it from turning sour. Nightclubs need to actively challenge that which corrupts the liberating and joyous experience they can provide. Because in a city like Oxford where the vast majority of those clubbing are students, and where so many of us still feel unsafe, the need for change is not just pressing; it is urgent.

Image: 453169 via Pixabay