When I imagine all the possible ways 2020 could get worse, a catastrophic election in one of the greatest Western powers, manipulated by a ‘fascist quasi-dictator’, forcing millions to risk their lives in the name of democracy, alongside the death knell of one of its strongest and most trusted institutions, ranks pretty high on the list. And yet, that is almost exactly what we may face this coming November. Trump’s recent attacks on the US Postal Service (the USPS), while not yet making him a fascist, threaten to undermine one of the most essential agencies America has, eroding the very roots of democracy. With two epidemics to tackle, COVID-19 and an increasingly dwindling public faith in democratic practices only magnified by a leader constantly evading them, America’s presidential election this year will undoubtedly be like no other.
The USPS has long been fighting for its life financially, the first bullets fired by Republicans decades ago. The most crippling blow, however, came in 2006, when the Bush administration passed a mandate ordering the USPS to pre-fund workers’ pensions 75 years in advance, a requirement no other federal agency has ever been burdened with. Every year since then has seen it drop further and further into debt, now with a staggering bill of $14 billion waiting for it. Despite being entirely at congress’ beck and call and despite providing a constitutionally binding service, it has received no federal funds since 1982 – its only financial lifeline is direct revenue from mail deliveries. Thanks in part to the coronavirus, these have already fallen by nearly one-third compared with last year and as a result, it expects to add $22 billion more to its continuing operating losses by the end of 2021. Although the USPS continues to take in a profit notwithstanding its debt payments, a first-class stamp costs a mere 55 cents. It seems as if the USPS can but watch as its own casket is prepared to be gracelessly lowered into the ground.
Trump certainly appears eager to attend its wake in any case, having only amplified the chronic nature of their collapse. Calling the Post Office “a joke”, “horrible”, and “corrupt”, he has degraded the USPS at every possible chance. This undermines public confidence in the integrity of postal voting, already at a dangerously low level. He has threatened to veto a coronavirus relief package explicitly because it included emergency funding for the agency. Without the necessary funding, the USPS will be unable to cover their operating costs and expect to run out of money this fiscal year. He has appointed Louis DeJoy as Postmaster General, a major Republican donor with significant investments in USPS competitors, who has, in turn, implemented near-fatal cuts to the service, including banning overtime and removing collection boxes. The USPS itself has admitted that these restrictions have been the primary cause of a massive surge in delays and undelivered mail this year. He has promised to appeal to the Supreme Court if he believes the election results have been invalidated by postal voting. He has, essentially, embarked on a brutal and ruthless crusade against the organisation. At a time when the economy’s strength is being tested the most in living memory and essential services must be prioritised, the omission of arguably the most essential of services from Trump’s attention is glaring. If the death of the USPS had seemed certain but distant before, the sound of the hearse starting up is now almost unmistakable.
In any given presidential election, the USPS is essential: one in six Americans live in states with no online voter registration and roughly a quarter will send mail-in ballots. With the coronavirus making in-person voting considerably less attractive, that number could double in 2020. In the absence of a functional post office, this risks disenfranchisement on an unprecedented scale. The primaries earlier this year were a useful test run. They were also a mess. At least 65,000 ballots were rejected because they arrived too late to be counted. If Trump succeeds in killing off the USPS, or at least in significantly delaying its services, the presidential election can hardly be considered democratic.
We are not alone in recognising the acute political danger Trump’s actions pose. In the past month, two federal judges have issued historic and unprecedented decisions attempting to prevent, and undo, any harm already done to both the service and the election. DeJoy has been barred from making further alterations to USPS policies, must reverse all recent changes, and must immediately prioritise every postal ballot. The rulings reveal a common pattern of thinking: this attack on America’s postal service is an attack on democracy and must be stopped at all costs. While a step in the right direction, the USPS’ life remains threatened by Trump’s callous comments and refusal to provide essential funding. This is but a brief moment of relief, one final gasp for air, before the organisation’s floundering resumes.
Irrespective of November’s potential horror story, the USPS is a vital service provided to Americans and deserves to be saved. Nearly 250 years old, it has a rich and surprisingly interesting history. It is so dedicated to connecting the entire nation, delivering 48% of the world’s mail, that it even uses mules to reach those living at the bottom of the Grand Canyon. The isolated, the elderly, the sick – all rely on the postal service to check up on them and keep them in contact with the rest of the world. The Post Office’s star quality derives not from any breath-taking ability to rake in profits, as Republican critics overly focused on profitability have imagined, but from its magical powers of uniting a nation otherwise so riddled with divisions. Sending not only letters and postcards from corner to corner of America, but ideas and ambitions, hopes and dreams, it is a rare example of an institution continuing to uphold what is good and right. No nation is too diverse, no house too remote, no ballot box too full – the postal service will deliver to anyone and everyone if it can just survive. The USPS must be saved. The presidential election must be conducted fairly and democratically. The two come hand in hand, and, as the funeral procession edges closer to the ballot box, I wonder if the American public will realise in time who is driving the hearse and how to vote them out.
History is often treated as a work of art, or artifice. Churchill boasted that “history will be kind to me for I intend to write it”, while Napoleon called history “a set of lies agreed upon”. Historians speak of weaving pieces of evidence together like threads of silk. And, I, a history student, can attest that coming up with an essay thesis at 3am requires a hefty dose of imagination.
The reigning queen of historical fiction, Hilary Mantel, discussed
the “cultural cringe” associated with the genre when she started out in the
1970s. It was seen as a fluffy genre, elevating sex and scandal above ‘historical
truth’. But as Mantel reminds us (alongside Napoleon and Churchill), records of
the past always represent a crafted narrative. The difference between history
and historical fiction is that readers of the latter are “actively requesting a
subjective interpretation”, compelling the writer to “recreate the texture of
lived experience”.
This week’s recommendations each represent a unique “texture
of lived experience” to perfection, proving that historical fiction is a genre
full of excitement and experimentation, and one that also demands to be taken seriously.
Entry-level: The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo – Taylor Jenkins Reid
Amelia, deputy editor
If historical fiction “isn’t your thing”, read this
book. It’s about as far from stuffy period romances or war novels that you
could possibly get, yet its filmic quality offers an enchanting look into 1950s
Hollywood, with all its glamour and grotesqueness.
Ageing film star, Evelyn Hugo, who has long been shrouded in mystery, decides to tell her life story through unknown journalist, Monique Grant. We follow Hugo, born Evelyn Herrera to Cuban immigrants, as she fights her way from poverty and obscurity into the limelight. Her methods are often ruthless, but her flaws make for compelling and unforgettable narration. Evelyn has to fight against the pressures and discrimination faced by women caught up in 1950s celebrity culture, as well as trauma experienced in her personal life.
The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo reads, in many ways, like a delicious gossip column, but it never strays into the superficial. Despite the historical setting, it is superbly modern. Queer representation is a central feature of this novel, and with two biracial female protagonists, it feels like a story that needs to be heard.
A taste of Dickens: Fingersmith – Sarah Waters
Cora, books editor
Fingersmith is a novel set in the Victorian era that is also reminiscent of a novel from the Victorian era. Hailed as a modern-day Dickens, Waters achieves that unique combination of page-turner and painstaking detail that is the hallmark of the greatest Dickensian works (don’t worry, though, the sentences are definitely shorter!).
The novel tells the story of orphaned Sue Trinder,
who has been primed for a life of crime in “a Fagin-like den of thieves”. Sue
is enlisted in a plot by the villainous ‘Gentleman’ to seduce a rich heiress,
robbing the girl of her fortune before chucking her into a ‘madhouse’. Commence
a thrilling crime story, equipped with stunning plot twists and a fraught love
story between two young women.
Waters is straightforward about the aspect of the Dickensian landscape she seeks to explore. This is a book about female sexuality, and the attempts of men to manipulate and abuse it – a book thatopens with a reference to Dickens’ Oliver Twist,but zeroes in on the murder of the sex worker, Nancy, rather than the story’s male protagonist. If you’re looking for a read with all the richness of Dickens, told through the lens of women’s struggles and desires, then Fingersmith is for you! And check out its (not safe for work) South Korean film adaptation, The Handmaiden, while you’re at it.
Booker Prize winner: The Narrow Road to the Deep North – Richard Flanagan
Eve, books editor
This novel portrays the barbarity of a Japanese prisoner of
war camp on the Burma railway. Military surgeon, Dorrigo Evans, the leader of a
starved and depleted group of Australian prisoners, contemplates his affair
with his uncle’s young wife as he struggles to ensure the survival of his men.
In an achievement befitting of Hemingway, Flanagan weaves together the complex, interconnected nature of love and war: both “annihilation, destroyer of worlds”. But the narrative is not confined to this devastating chapter of history. What Flanagan, himself the son of a prisoner of war, depicts so powerfully is the far-reaching impact of horror. Dorrigo, hailed as a war hero in the national imagination, cannot comprehend the world he occupies as he tries and fails to “rouse his spirit” in “consecutive and concurrent adulteries”. Japanese camp commander, Nakamura, cannot reconcile the kindness of his wife caring for him in his final days with the violence he has inflicted. The Narrow Road to the Deep North is a study of what it is to be human, both good and bad, and acts as a powerful tribute to the victims of the railway: “There is no book for their lost souls. Let them have this fragment.”
Recent history: Half of a Yellow Sun – Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
Devanshika, deputy books editor
Set against the backdrop of the Biafran War in
Nigeria, Adichie’s novel avoids the most common trap of historical fiction – centring
on the wider issues of the historical period at the expense plot and character
development. Instead, she writes a story that is at once defined by and
distinct from its setting. Narrators shift continuously, beginning with a young
servant boy, Ugwu, and then cycling through intertwining stories of the
professor he works for, the professor’s mistress and her sister.
The simple yet evocative writing – including insertions of Igbo idioms and phrases – help to situate the reader in the book’s vivid cultural background. Praise for the novel often references its inclusion of characters and anecdotes from across very different spectrums, from the corridors of wealthy urban bureaucracy to bombed villages. Undercurrents like the gap between Western modernity and indigenous ties, family loyalty and national identity, are visible throughout, but never overshadow the social drama at the foreground. Essentially, come for the history, stay for the gripping character arcs.
YA favourite: The Gilded Wolves – Roshani Chokshi
Devanshika, deputy books editor
Historical fiction with a fantasy twist, the first
book in Chokshi’s latest trilogy also addresses the complex social issues of
its temporal setting whilst managing to deliver a compelling plot. The central
heist, set during the 1889 World Exhibition in Paris, is undertaken by a
diverse group of young Parisians – the protagonist is of mixed race, two main
characters are Indian and Filipino immigrants, another is on the autism
spectrum. This allows for a nuanced portrayal of the time that doesn’t gloss
over prevalent problems like racism, imperialism and sexism.
Colonialism is especially well-integrated into the
fantasy world’s magic system, which uses stolen magical artefacts to reflect
the European appropriation of objects, beliefs and practices from around the
world. Don’t worry that it’s too serious, though, because there’s no shortage
of high-adrenaline escapades, romantic subplots and surprise twists.
The book as a whole treads the line between a number of different literary genres, including fantasy, history and contemporary YA. This mix of elements means that the Gilded Wolves is enjoyable even for readers who may find historical fiction too confined to actual events and facts to be exciting. FYI: the sequel, Silvered Serpents, came out on September 22nd!
After
far too long at home for many of us, it’s almost the start of Michaelmas;
I don’t know about anyone else, but my productivity has drastically decreased in the months since being in Oxford.
When I do finally decide to get to work, however, I will have my trusty film soundtrack playlist to help spur on the motivation: just like in video games, film scores are designed to be in the background, yet they are far more exciting and emotional than whatever ‘Chill Piano’ playlist you might have been relying on up to now. They flow perfectly from piece to piece as you attempt your essay, problem sheet or whatever it is that you do in your degree. In fact, when your work changes, so can your soundtrack – if you’ve never written your conclusion while listening to Hans Zimmer’s ‘Time’, you’re missing out, I can promise you. I am not knowledgeable about music theory, but after watching far too many movies and listening to even more soundtracks, here are six film scores to help you get back to work:
Nicholas Britell– If Beale Street Could Talk (2018)
I’m starting on a high with this selection. This soundtrack
is one of my all-time favourites, perfectly blending jazz, melancholic romance,
and a monumental atmosphere to set you firmly in 1970s Harlem, New York. It’s a
great all-rounder, although its smooth violins keep the score at a slow,
relaxing pace, which makes it particularly perfect for night-time studying. ‘Eros’
and ‘Storge’ are my favourite tracks on the album, so watch out for those: they
merge dizzying romantic heights with a sense of painful realism yet to be
discovered.
Like what you heard? All of Britell’s soundtracks are worth a listen, though all different in their own right.
Hans Zimmer– Interstellar (2014)
Of course, Hans Zimmer had to feature somewhere on this list. Interstellar is an extremely strong score as a whole, with leitmotifs everywhere creating a harmonious and achingly special soundtrack. It definitely has a ‘space’ feeling to it, but not in an overly Star Trek-y way. Instead, it feels like it’s trying to communicate the wonders of the universe and describe the space between stars. It’s not surprising that it gives the impression of curiosity and discovery, but the track ‘Mountains’ demonstrates all the qualities of a truly dynamic and invigorating album. ‘Cornfield Chase’, ‘Mountains’ and twin tracks ‘Stay’ and ‘S.T.A.Y’ all possess that certain Zimmer magic that everyone should experience.
Like what you heard?First Man, scored by Justin Hurwitz, has a great soundtrack with similar
space flair and, of course, Zimmer’s own Inception builds on Interstellar’s
suspense and grandeur.
Thomas Adès– Colette (2018)
I was really taken by this soundtrack, even while watching the movie. It’s an easy listen, loosely underpinned by swooping romanticism – it’s full of upbeat tracks and the feelings of a classic period drama. However, there’s a richness and complexity to it: as the film’s focus transitions from romance to Colette’s path of self-discovery and fulfilment, so does the soundtrack’s. It never leaves behind the ‘classic period drama’ sound of soft pianos and violins, but this is not to its detriment, instead making for a flowing, harmonious album. This makes it work well as study music, particularly if you’re into those ‘Chill Classical’ Spotify playlists.
Like what you heard? Other period drama scores like Pride
and Prejudice by Dario Marianelli and Far From the Madding Crowd by
Craig Armstrong are great soundtracks with a similar vibe.
Yann Tiersen– Amélie (2001)
Much like the film itself, Amélie is a refreshing and fun listen. The album, driven by a blend of piano and accordion, has a positive sway to it and thoroughly commits itself to the quirky premise of the movie. Its upbeat nature makes it great to use as background music when researching; the diversity of the album will keep you interested, engaged and (most importantly) awake during your work. ‘I’ve Never Been There’, ‘Guilty’ and, of course, ‘Comptine d’un autre été, L’Après-Midi’ are some of my favourites throughout the soundtrack.
Liked what you heard?Midnight in Paris (2011)
and A Good Year (2006) feature lots of jazzy tunes if you need a French
fix and a bit of sunshine in your headphones.
Isobel Waller-Bridge – Emma (2020)
Okay, I love this movie, probably far too much. However, the
soundtrack is amazing as well. It blends traditional folk and operatic classical
to represent the dichotomy of Emma’s existence as an exceedingly wealthy
country bumpkin. Perhaps because Emma leans more towards the humour of Austen’s
work, it doesn’t quite fit the normal sound of period dramas, with more light-hearted staccato
used throughout the soundtrack. It’s a charming blend of styles and definitely
worth a listen.
Like what you heard?Little Women by Alexandre
Desplat is again charming but doesn’t quite fit the stereotypical period drama
sound.
Nicholas Britell – The King (2019)
I know I have already talked about Britell but The King needs a mention in its own right. If you need moodiness, atmosphere and drama to get through a piece of work, this is the soundtrack for you. To fit with the grittiness of the plot, the soundtrack is full of heroic tracks with minor keys, crying violins and looming horns. Its 43 minutes brim over with emotion and heartache, expertly handled to make a seriously impressive score.
Like what you heard?Wind River by Nick Cave and Warren Ellis and Jane Eyre by Dario Marianelli both have a sombre moodiness too, if you are so inclined to the dramatic.
Listen to selected songs from Nina’s chosen soundtracks below:
In 2020, the University of Oxford admitted a record-high number of state-educated students. Statistics were updated, articles were written about Oxford’s commitment to access, and things were finally looking up for those looking to break into an institution notorious for elitism. Two thirds of the University’s population are now state-educated – a win that feels a little hollow with the knowledge that a staggering 93% of the UK population went to state school. Decades of underrepresentation within tertiary education can be seen reflected in society today, as the state educated make up only 33% of judges, 49% of journalists, 39% of doctors and 8 out of 26 cabinet members in the UK*.
Education has long been hailed as ‘the great equaliser’. I believe this to be true in theory, which is why it’s imperfect application to reality is so frustrating. Never have the inequalities within education in the UK been felt quite so keenly as in the year 2020. In a remote Trinity term where students were forced to digitally stream lectures and communicate virtually with professors due to the COVID-19 pandemic, the disparities between each individual student’s learning conditions widened from a gap to a gulf. In a normal term, all students were receiving the same time and quality of teaching from the same professors; however, once they are removed from the university amenities that they were paying £9000 for, and made to learn from home, students can find themselves in vastly different studying environments. The lucky ones – who have fast internet speed, a quiet place to study, a big desk, a well-stocked home library, disposable income to buy the obscure reading list, university-educated parents and free time to study instead of work – will surely come out better than their peers.
A virtual Trinity accentuated the problems that many low-income students face every Oxford vacation. This isn’t the only educational inequality that’s been magnified this year; 2020 was also witness to the huge exam results fiasco. High school students were unable to take their exams, and instead given results allegedly based on the exam performance of their school in previous years. Already flawed to begin with, the system cracked entirely when straight-A students from the most deprived schools in the country received C grades and Fails, while private school students – miraculously – were relatively unaffected. After media backlash and protests, the problem was eventually rectified by giving students their predicted grades. Despite the grade changes, the ordeal highlighted the uncomfortable truth that all of us are far too aware of – if private schools didn’t give you an advantage, why would you pay for them?
This is why we need the 93% Club, a student-run society dedicated to improving the experience of state-educated students at university. The club was first set up in 2016 by state-schooled student Sophie Pender, who felt estranged from the ultra-privileged culture that she found herself surrounded by at Bristol University. Sophie’s story resonated with students across the country, and now, at time of writing, there are twenty 93% Clubs working in different universities across the UK.
As to the place of the 93% Club at Oxford, one only needs to look at the experience of applying to Oxbridge from a state school. Many schools like my own don’t offer the Oxbridge admissions tests. This meant that the hopeful applicants from our school (there were six of us that year – the biggest cohort they’d ever had) had to troop down to the local private school, to sit the test amongst the blazered shoulders of our private school peers, who had been doing practice tests with their teachers all week. The imposter syndrome has set in before you’ve even arrived. Once accepted into Oxford, the feeling intensifies as you prepare for your second Oxbridge entrance exam, this one posed by fellow students in Fresher’s week: “What school did you go to?” I remember feeling very surprised that Londoners would be intimately familiar with the inner-city state comprehensives of Glasgow, until I began to realise that they weren’t asking me where I was from and were instead assessing wealth, status and connections.
Now, most privately educated students at Oxford are lovely people who aren’t concerned with your background or education. But it’s hard not to develop a chip on your shoulder when you remember the embarrassment you felt when someone in a velvet suit, with a disgusted curl of their lip, tells you that you’re using the wrong cutlery at a formal dinner. Someone else at the table next to you is talking about caviar, to a jubilant chorus of ‘Rahhh!’. And you’re left sitting there thinking – how the fuck am I somewhere where everyone has an opinion on caviar?
There is a legitimate confidence that develops at private school that carries through to Oxford. Students who have come from elite private schools transition seamlessly into the high-falutin Oxford lifestyle, intimate with wining, dining, schmoozing, boozing, networking, white tie, black tie and ball gowns… Some of them will even go on to accept invites into secret private-school-only drinking societies, where they can socialise among an exclusive elite. Even the average private schooler from a more ordinary background tends to arrive at Oxford with a comfortable network of people that they know from school. The typical state schooler is not guaranteed this automatic network and is left to navigate the alien Oxford world on their own. This is what The 93% Club is for – we’re forming our own network so that we can decode the world around us together.
As well as social imposter syndrome, a state schooler is likely to face academic imposter syndrome whilst at Oxford. Many courses at Oxford, particularly the humanities, are still actively catered towards a student who has come through the private school system. For example, it is an institutional expectation for humanities students to arrive with some knowledge in Latin and French, and to have sound Biblical and classical literacy. State students who have come from schools that don’t have art libraries or specialist books or museums, or schools that simply didn’t offer Latin or Classics, cannot hope to pick up textual subtleties with ease in the way that tutors have become accustomed to expect. This is before we even get into the advantages that tiny class sizes, individualized learning approaches and specialist teachers can give you… our offer letters may look the same, but we have not arrived at Oxford on an equal playing field.
It’s not a coincidence that state school students always struggle in their first term compared to their private school peers. In my first hellish Michaelmas at Oxford, a peer who I did French with once asked me why it mattered that they went to private school. It mattered because they were taught French in a Francophone boarding school. It mattered because I was taught French by a weary Irishman, who as head of the languages department, was more often than not forced to run out of class to discipline kids trying to tip the vending machines over, or who were taking pingers in the school alleyways. He was a brilliant teacher who wanted us to do well – but the school was underfunded and understaffed, like so many other state schools up and down the country. Underfunding and understaffing issues at state schools can also mean that academic students who are guaranteed a solid pass in their exams are often overlooked by their school in order to prioritise struggling students. Although a good allocation of school resources, B-grade students are not pushed into getting A’s, students are not taught to expand beyond the set curriculum, and learning disabilities often go undiagnosed.
The 93% Club of course, in its essence, cannot fix a deeply segregated system of prejudice and bias, or decades of educational inequalities. But it can provide a space to reach out to other students who operate the same limbo as you. One foot in Oxford, one foot back home, not quite belonging in either. This is why this network is so important. COVID-19 permitting, maybe we’ll all go for drinks together soon to swap stories. Or maybe, we’ll do it state-school style, and drink some cans in the park.
In the academic year 2020-2021, as well as providing a network, The 93% Club Oxford will be providing soft-skill workshops, panel discussions and application workshops for state-educated students, to help them learn skills and make contacts that they may not have picked up at school.
Of the many cultural events 2020 has cruelly snatched away
from us, the loss of live music is perhaps the one that has hit the hardest. To add to the emotional gut-punch
of cancelled concerts and festivals, financial losses across the music industry
running into the billions have wiped out sources of income for many acts and
pushed smaller venues to the brink.
There have so far been many attempts to fill the void, from pre-recorded
stage shows by the likes of Megan thee Stallion to artists such as Waxahatchee
livestreaming casual performances on a regular basis, and even the first
‘socially-distanced’ gigs trialled at Newcastle’s Gosforth Park, opened by Sam
Fender in August. The majority of these ‘live’ gigs have attempted to recreate
the experience and sensation of attending a concert as best they can, with
varying degrees of success.
This makes Idiot Prayer, a performance by venerable
Australian artist Nick Cave, recorded
in June at London’s Alexandra Palace and streamed to fans worldwide in
late July, a striking exception. Rather than attempting to recreate any sense
of physical connection or intimacy, Cave instead embraces the feelings of
loneliness and isolation that have become universal during the pandemic –
something that becomes immediately apparent from the first few frames of the
livestream, as he walks through an empty, cavernous Ally Pally and the title card appears on the
screen: “Nick Cave, Alone
at Alexandra Palace”.
Everything about the film and performance is designed to
reinforce this sense of aloneness. Other than reciting a short poem at the
start, Cave says nothing throughout the entire show, and does away with his
usually-elaborate staging in favour of the minimalist direction and lighting of
Oscar-nominated cinematographer Robbie Ryan. All the songs are announced by
title card, without preamble or fanfare, and the camera focuses exclusively on
close-ups of Cave’s face or wide shots of the piano in the middle of the disconcertingly
vast concert hall. Apart
from the music, the only sounds are his footsteps, echoing throughout
the eerie silence as he walks away from the piano once it’s all over.
The
songs themselves reflect the almost oppressive isolation of the
surroundings. The 21-song setlist spans the full length of Cave’s career,
including tracks from his albums with supporting band The Bad Seeds and his
side-projects, but it draws especially from 1997’s The Boatman’s Call,
an album made in the shadow of his break-up with PJ Harvey that is rich with
the senses of absence and catastrophic loss, emotions all too familiar in a
year that has been at times a seemingly unending stream of tragedies and
setbacks.
Moreover, each song is given a particularly stripped-back, minimalist rendition. Most were developed over the course of Cave’s recent Conversations tour, where he juxtaposed piano arrangements of his songs with audience Q&As and remarkably candid discussions of the passing of his son Arthur in 2015. The sense of intimacy and vulnerability which defined that tour is ever-present here, especially through Cave’s voice, which, uniquely for an artist of his age, seems to get richer as he grows older, moving between astonishing tenderness on ‘Man in the Moon’ (from 2007’s Grinderman) and new track ‘Euthanasia’ to a barely-contained snarl on iconic Bad Seeds cut ‘The Mercy Seat.’
Cave makes it all seem effortless, which is impressive
considering that at first glance there seems no way that these songs, taken
from across a 40-year career and ranging dramatically in style and subject,
should work alongside each
other. ‘Palaces of Montezuma’, an upbeat and faintly satirical love song
in which Cave makes increasingly extravagant and ridiculous declarations of
love, is immediately followed by ‘Girl in Amber’, a song so drenched in grief
and heartbreak it sounds in danger of collapsing in on itself; the intensity
and skill of Cave’s performance is such that they flow together with ease.
The livestream itself was impressively smooth, whilst the
one-off nature of the performance (and the fact that you couldn’t pause it)
gave a sense of exclusivity that made the entire thing feel more like an actual
concert. Despite the success of Idiot Prayer, however, it’s hard to see
this particular format really providing a replacement for live in-person
concerts in the age of Covid. Idiot Prayer works so well because it doesn’t
try to recreate or replace what has been lost, but instead leans into the
oppressive silence and pervasive grief of the current environment and creates
something that is uniquely of its time. It’s difficult to see an artist other
than Nick Cave even attempting to pull something like this off, and there are
certainly few others who could summon the aura of strangeness and sense of distance
that makes this performance so affecting.
In a
year when everyone seems to be grieving for something, there is no one
who understands that and gives voice to it better than Cave. Equally, however, there
are few others with a better understanding of the power of the universality of
grief and the inevitability of hope. It’s not surprising that the final song
Cave chooses to play, before he gets up from the piano and walks out of shot,
is ‘Galleon Ship’, a song from his most recent album, Ghosteen, which is
about exactly that. ‘For we are not alone, it seems/So many riders in the sky’,
Cave sings, and, amidst the horrors and tragedies of 2020, it serves as a
welcome reminder that we are truly not alone in this, and that there is light
at the end of the tunnel.
The Oxford University Chess Club has won the 2019-20 ‘Club
of the Year’ award from the English Chess Federation (ECF). Presented by the national
governing body for chess and open to all clubs across the country, it is the
first time that Oxford University has won the award, capping off a year filled
with success on and off the board.
The chess club is one of the oldest societies at the university, founded in 1869. Several Grandmasters have been members, including the four-time Women’s World Chess Champion, Hou Yifan, in 2018-19. The club fields teams in local, national, and international competitions, holds popular social events, and teaches chess for all abilities. Pre-lockdown, you might have spotted the first team playing a Thursday evening home match at Balliol, a beginners’ lesson taking place in Christ Church on Friday afternoon, or players packed into the Kings Arms for casual games in eighth week. During the lockdown, chess has thrived online. The club held tournaments over the web, conducted lessons on Zoom, and faced teams in competitive matches from Dundee to Hawaii.
Much of this year’s success has come in competitive chess. Chess
matches range from a few minutes long (think of the old Red Bull advert) to
several hours – marathons of concentration. Strengthened by the arrivals of
master-level freshers Victor Vasiesiu (Hertford) and Akshaya Kalaiyalahan
(Regent’s Park), a seasoned first team became formidable. The club’s first
accolades came in autumn 2019, when a strong line-up of Daniel Abbas (Magdalen),
Filip Mihov (Balliol), and Jessica Wen (Queen’s) finished in the top 10 at an invitational
universities’ tournament held in Nankai, China. Its biggest triumph, came in
2020, when the first team won the British Universities Chess Association (BUCA)
Championships for the first time since 2011 to become national champions, achieving
a perfect score. The first, second and third teams each placed top in their
respective divisions in the Oxfordshire league – the first team had an unbeaten
record, pipping arch-rivals Witney to the title. Stalwart former president Joris
Gerlagh (Univ) was voted best player in the league. While some university
sports clubs have glamorous summer tours and play in front of packed crowds, some
of the chess club’s hardest-fought victories came on a cold Monday night at a
church hall in Cowley and in the conference rooms at the Birmingham Airport
Holiday Inn.
The ECF’s recognition also cited all the other initiatives
the club has put on throughout the year. Pioneered by this year’s president,
Aloysius Lip (Christ Church), the club arranged simultaneous exhibitions with
Grandmasters Hou Yifan and Keith Arkell, drawing players from all over
Oxfordshire. Its social events frequently attracted large crowds of 40-50 – at
one pub night, former president Andrew Rogozinski accepted a challenge from a passer-by,
played blindfolded, and won. The club also started new annual matches with
Imperial, LSE, and Warwick, and set up new teaching partnerships with local
schools. Its efforts have continued throughout the lockdown. Victor Vasiesiu’s
lessons continued over Zoom, and were broadcasted on YouTube. Only last week,
the club held a “Chess Week” of fun chess variants, organised in collaboration with
the Invariants, Oxford’s maths society. The author thought he’d try his hand at
‘Atomic Chess’, but came third-bottom. In all, there are more opportunities than
ever before to play chess in Oxford.
Reflecting on the last year, Aloysius Lip commented, “The
whole committee and I have put in a tremendous effort over the past twelve
months, so it really is gratifying to be recognised by our national
organisation – basically the highest we can go. We’ll keep maintaining
standards to make chess – the most inclusive sport – fun for the uni.”
It was not all success this year – Oxford lost the 2020
Varsity Match to Cambridge, relinquishing the title won in 2017 and defended
the following two years. And unlike their Cambridge counterparts, who receive a
half-blue for their efforts, Oxford’s best chess players are still unrecognised
by the Blues Committee. But it has been a historic year for chess players at
Oxford University, and for now, the nation’s highest award for a chess club
will have to do.
2020 has not lived up to the Roaring Twenties revival we all hoped for. It has been rough. And the theatre industry has been hit significantly, with many closures and redundancies threatened. In a situation in which things will likely get worse before they get better, we could all do with a bit of escape and a bit of hope. This is what I’ve aimed to curate in this “New World” playlist. And no, sorry, Aladdin’s “A Whole New World” won’t make an appearance. These theatre tunes are more than romantic longing; they’re about the dream of a better world on the other side of tragedy, oppression, and even war. They show that even in the darkest of times, something better is waiting – somehow, someday, somewhere – on the other side.
“Somewhere”, West Side Story
West Side Story transplants the well-known tragedy of Romeo and Juliet into 20th century New York City, replacing family feuds with the racial tensions between the Puerto Rican “Sharks” and the WASP “Jets”. The song’s message of love, forgiveness, and hope transgresses the immediate racial context, and has struck a chord with all those longing for an accepting and harmonious future. For these reasons, “Somewhere” has found itself a poignant home in the LGTBQ+ community, featuring regularly at Pride events, and an interesting account of the queer history behind West Side Story can be found in David Speakman’s genremag.com article. Quite simply, “Somewhere” is beautiful. Just beautiful. Both in its lyrics and its music. Cynthia Erivo gives the best vocal performance of it I’ve come across (and a sweeping orchestral accompaniment) but for a real punch to the tear-ducts check out Titus Burgess’ rendition in tribute to the Pulse, Orlando victims. West Side Story will make its cinematic revival later this year, adapted by Steven Spielberg and Tony Kushner.
“I Know Where I’ve Been”, Hairspray
With the struggles faced in Hairspray’s 1960s Baltimore repeating in the 21st century, it is easy to sink into the feeling that we have made too few steps far too slowly. Where my generation has George Floyd, my mother’s had Stephen Lawrence – it has happened before and will happen again. “I Know Where I’ve Been” takes this pain, and the feeling of unending struggle, and creates a passionate rally for the new generation to not give up and to not lose hope. It’s a perfect listen for this Black History Month. Jennifer Hudson’s version washes clean all the stains left from Cats (and is that the little girl from Us??).
“The Last Night of the World”, Miss Saigon
Set at the end of the Vietnam war, Miss Saigon is full of characters dreaming of escape into a new world. Whilst “The Movie in My Mind”and “The American Dream”are both 10/10 pieces, “The Last Night of the World” takes its place on this list for its optimism. It is a song that makes you feel in love. Just like West Side Story’s “Tonight”, it captures the overwhelming romance of one perfect, unending night; we know it is set for tragedy but we’re happy to indulge in it until then. It features one of the best saxophone solos you’ll hear in a musical: best enjoyed at night, staring out your bedroom window at the moon. When the world’s falling apart in front of you… have a (socially distanced) snog and a dance. The best version is the 2014 cast recording with Eva Noblezada and Alistair Brammer but, in all seriousness, treat yourself to an evening in and watch the full 25th anniversary recording. It’s epic and intense and a flawless production. (Better than Les Mis. Just saying).
“I’m Still Here”, Follies
Set in the ruins of a closing theatre, the National Theatre’s sold-out Follies revival in 2017 now seems tragically ahead of its time. Ok, not quite a “New World” here, but “I’m Still Here” is perfect for this moment. It’s a song about living; seeing everything come and go; about struggling and surviving, and staying standing throughout it all. Though many of the references may be lost to our generation, its message of perseverance and enjoying the whole wild ride of it translates effortlessly.
These songs give just a slither of the power theatre has for providing escapism, entertainment, and hope. Whilst the likes of these large-scale musical theatre pieces may be some of the last to return to our stages, there is plenty of new and adaptive creativity emerging to fill the void. Theatre is currently in a dire situation, and it needs all our support: donations, bums in seats, box office sales. Things will get better, but for now we must all do what we can.
Check out Sam’s playlist on Cherwell Spotify (@cherwellmusic)
Oxford University’s testing service has confirmed 61 positive tests for Covid-19 in Freshers’ Week (3-9 October). This brings the total number of positive tests since August 20 to 91. In total, there have been 1631 tests since the introduction of the service by the University.
In August, the University launched its COVID-19 testing service for all staff and students. A whitepaper published by the University states that after a booking is made, “the individual gets a timed appointment and is swabbed by a healthcare worker in the pod.” However, several students have told Cherwell that they had to self-swab when getting tested. One anonymous student said: “The person working there does their best to explain it to you but especially with the nasal swab everyone has a natural reaction not to do the swab properly because it is quite unpleasant.”
While the University’s whitepaper notes that “[testing] may also be conducted via self-swabbing or supervised self-swabbing”, it reports a false negative rate (the probability that a test shows negative when a patient has the virus) “possibly of the order of 20%” due to incorrect technique used for swabbing and low viral load in asymptomatic patients. It is therefore likely that the numbers reported by the University’s testing service are underestimated.
The University’s testing Status and Response website also states that the figures released do not include positive test results received outside of the University testing service. It notes further that “due to the time interval between a test being done and the result becoming available, it is expected that there will be a mismatch between actual results and those confirmed to us on any given day”.
Current University guidance is that students and staff should not get tested unless they have been asked to or they display symptoms of Covid-19. The University’s whitepaper states that “one of the challenges the University faces is staff and students with no COVID-19 symptoms asking for tests unnecessarily”. The University of Cambridge, whose collegiate system mirrors that of Oxford, have set up a testing pod in the city for symptomatic cases, but have recently announced they will test all asymptomatic students in colleges.
The numbers this week follow Oxford Brookes University, which has been back since September, confirming 98 positive tests in the week leading up to October 2. Oxford Brookes University said “the majority” of those cases had been “traced back to social gatherings”. In a statement sent to councillors seen by the BBC, the University said it had issued about 150 fixed penalties to students “for breaches within halls of residences” since 12 September.
This week, several colleges have reported social gatherings of students that violated government and university guidance. St. Catherine’s College recently announced it would introduce body cameras for Junior Deans and porters to wear in order to record criminal behaviour. Several other colleges have cancelled events or closed JCRs.
On Thursday, Balliol College’s JCR committee cancelled events in the JCR during Freshers’ Week. In a post to the JCR’s Facebook group, Balliol’s JCR Vice President said: “It is impossible for us to enforce the regulations as we have been told we have to by certain members of college staff.” On the same day, Keble College’s Decanal team sent an email to all students, reminding them of “the absolute necessity of following the simple rules on social distancing and Covid policy in College”.
An email that was sent out to all Magdalen College students, stressed “just how lenient Magdalen are currently being relative to other colleges,” but also noted that “there is significant pressure from the central University to tighten our regulations, and limit interaction far more”. Magdalen and Brasenose are currently the only colleges to allow guests into College.
The University has implemented a four-stage emergency response, depending on how wide the spread of Covid-19 is. The current status is Stage 2, which allows the University to operate “in line with social distancing restrictions with as full a student cohort as possible on site”, with teaching and assessment taking place “with the optimum combination of in-person teaching and online learning”. A Stage 3 response would imply “no public access to the University or College buildings” and “gatherings for staff and students only permitted where essential for teaching and assessment to take place”.
