Thursday 12th June 2025
Blog Page 622

‘Just Good Friends’

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Can have sex someone and still be just friends with them in the morning? Does it ever really work out? Is a broken heart guaranteed? I can’t answer these questions for your specific situation, however, I can tell you about my experience, and how we are still friends to this day, both with our respective hearts intact. 

Before I dive in to my story and how I happened upon this particular arrangement, I think an Urban Dictionary definition may be in order for complete understanding. 

Friends with Benefits: 

             Two good friends who have a sexual relationship without being emotionally involved. Typically, two good friends who have casual sex without a monogamous relationship or any kind of commitment. 

(see also) 

                  Two close friends who think it would be a good idea to have sex, until one falls in love and gets their heart broken when the other doesn’t want a relationship. 

So, being Friends with Benefits doesn’t actually sound that beneficial does it? Our understanding is mainly inspired by Hollywood and the unrealistic portrayals of perfect people falling in and out of perfect love. In fact, most films will either sell you the idea that being FWB with someone will lead to you being desperately alone and crying under the neon lights of some city street lamp, or that you and this *(presumably) guy will fall in love and never leave each other’s sides ever again. In fact, Hollywood’s biggest (and most well-kept) secret is that there is actually a third option: sleeping with a friend and remaining just that; friends. 

‘How is it possible??’ I hear you screaming. Well, it’s actually kind of simple. But, before we get into that, let me give you a bit of my story, and how it’s helping me to write this article. 

I first met this particular friend around 2 years ago. We worked for the same place, although had slightly different jobs so I’d only see him on lunch breaks or the occasional clean-down. He was also quite a good friend of my family and we eventually fell into the same friend circle. At first, I will admit I had a crush on him. Every girl he came into contact with swooned at his feet, and he knew it. Not in an arrogant way, just in the way that he knew you were wrapped around his finger, and he’d laugh at you in conversation, eyes glinting as the smile worked its way up his face. He strutted about in sleeveless tops in the summer months, effortlessly showing off the type of muscles that were only built by hard manual labour. His skin was permanently tanned, and he was the type of guy who went on beach crawls to clear rubbish from the shores and took two-moth long trips to Africa to help with conservation and live in the wild. We nicknamed him ‘Jungle Boy’ and he lived up to every inch of the name. You probably have an image of him in your head by now, and you’re wondering how I’m still not helplessly in love and heart-broken by this guy. In fact, it might sound even less plausible if I was to tell you that, at the beginning, I was pretty much in love with him. But this feeling wore off, not in a negative way, just in the sense that I realised why we’d never be good as an actual couple but worked well as friends that sometimes slept together. 

I knew from the beginning he was a ladies man, obviously. And I knew from rumour that he did tend to leave a trail of broken hearts behind him. So, I kind of recognised what I was getting myself into, and I made the conscious effort to keep my brain from romanticising things. At first, this was more difficult, and I was left feeling a little empty when he’d leave with a quick kiss on the lips (out of politeness I always felt) and a smile as he closed the door behind him. When I’d see him later on that morning, in work, I would always fumble for something to say and I felt like I had to re-train myself in our friendship. Of course, at some point all of our other friends found out about our unspoken agreement, but it was never really brought up. It was almost like they were avoiding the subject, waiting to see my heart get broken. 

However, I noticed, the more he stayed over, the less I wanted him to. I still loved his company, but I didn’t like the expectation of sex anymore. I knew his moves, knew what he was asking without saying it. He’d walk me home, an arm around my waist, or rest a hand on my knee whilst he was talking to me. The first (and last) time he slept the night, I couldn’t wait for him to leave, purely because I wanted my own company. Our agreement was never formally dissolved, but he doesn’t hang back after the rest of our friends leave after a party anymore. And I don’t want him to. I’m happy with what happened between us, but I’d never want anything more. We are two puzzle pieces who weren’t intended to fit the picture that way, despite Hollywood stereotypes. 

So, how do you survive the same thing? My biggest tip would be to friend-zone them in your head and your heart before you begin anything sexual. If you can’t bear to think of them with someone else or think that they’ll fall in love with you over time you’re already in too deep and you will get hurt. No doubt about it. 

Only go as far as you’re comfortable. Set boundaries, protect the friendship over greedy bodily desires. But, most importantly, have fun! Being friends-with-benefits can be an amazing thing, if you keep it at just that. 

*This article is based on a heterosexual understanding of the term, and in no way means to suggest other variations of the male/female friendship can’t also occur. However, this is based off of purely my experiences. 

Springtide Festival to return in May

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Springtide Community Festival will return on Sunday 5th May, the SU has announced. Springtide is “a community focused family-friendly festival that aims to bring the student and non-student community for the day of music, fun and adventure”.

The festival, which will be held in University Parks between 11am and 7pm, will showcase local music, a mini farm and food and drink from across the world. It will be free to attend.

The event is being hosted by Oxford SU to “help integration between students and long tern residents”. The SU also hopes it will “encourage students to give back something to the city they call home by donating their time and skills to help run it and more importantly to have fun.”

The live music will include performances from Pangolin, Lavender Boy, Stolen Mic, the Oxford Commas and the Young Woman’s Music Project.

Alongside music, there will also be a variety of food from companies such as Jericho Coffee Traders, Frank’s Burgers, My Japanese and Vegan Ethiopian available.

There will also be a fully-licensed bar.

People can also sign up to participate in five-a-side football, with matches for kids, men and women taking place across the day.

Oxford artist and masters student claim responsibility for Rad Cam climate protest

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Artist and Oxford student Georgia Crowther has claimed responsibility for the protest piece placed on the Radcliffe Camera. Speaking to Cherwell she said “I joined up with some brilliant people who propelled my sculpture to send out a pro-climate change message.”

“I teamed up with the nightclimbers and Kaya Axelsson, an activist who is studying her PhD in Climate Policy. My sculpture, the catalyst for our protest is a Climate Human. It consisted of an array of recycling and reached the public sphere through a strategic operation…”

The protest piece consists of a human figure made of recycled rubbish, placed high on the side of the Radcliffe Camera. The figure is accompanied by a sign that reads “WHAT HEIGHT WOULD YOU GO 2 4 THE WORLD// OX RISE UP”.

Speaking about her piece, Crowther told Cherwell “If we alter our environment we will impact others and protect our future. We all walk this Earth, a place with a kaleidoscope of natural attributes.

“However, the catastrophic current situation of industrialisation and our selfish behaviour means that the trees, the oceans, the animals, the air and people are unprecedentedly fragile and suffering.

“We must change, and many have addressed this and acted accordingly, but a nudge is still needed. As an artist, I find it’s my duty to provide this nudge by altering our environment for the good of the planet.

“Being random and crazy can go a long way. I joined up with some brilliant people who propelled my sculpture to send out a pro-climate change message. I teamed up with the nightclimbers and Kaya Axelsson, an activist who is studying her Masters in Climate Policy.

“My sculpture, the catalyst for our protest is a Climate Human. It consisted of an array of recycling and reached the public sphere through a strategic operation in conjunction with the Oxford Nightclimber’s [sic], who bravely hoisted the sculpture to their perch on the Rad Cam.

“Sometimes, everyone needs a new perspective. We just hope our trash man alarmed and warmed the souls of those who passed by. As people we can use any form of creativity to go above and beyond simply recycling in the fight for the environment. We can use the psychedelic exploration of a gentle protest that was worth the all-nighter. Keep an eye out for more.”

Collaborator Kaya Axelsson also commented on the protest stating that “We wanted people to ask themselves what more they would do if they thought that the whole world was at stake.”

“And we wanted to break up people’s daily routine and get them to start thinking creatively about what they can do.

“I’m actually co-planning an event next term at Oxford for people want to go beyond individual action and take ambitious action on climate change. It’s called Beyond Individual Action.

“The use of political pranks has a long and important history in social movements. The doll-like figure takes inspiration from rebels in in Ukraine, who during a protest ban in the 2000’s, once placed little dolls around a town squares with dissident signs which later got humorously “arrested” by police.

“The public question also goes back to the tradition of the ancient cynics, who used to perch in central public places, interrupting passersby with challenging ethical questions. Most of all though we are so incredibly inspired by the youth climate movement, which has done so much in recent months to question the ‘realities’ tacitly accepted by ‘adults’.”

The event follows a series of international climate protests, led principally by the Extinction Rebellion movement. Key areas of Central London were blocked by activists, including Piccadilly Circus and Waterloo Bridge.

Mass arrests were made early on the morning of the 16th, with over 120 Extinction Rebellion members being removed from their protest sites.

The Oxford branch of Extinction Rebellion also joined the movement in London, blocking Edgware Road with a contingent from Southampton.

Earlier in April the Oxford Climate Justice Campaign and Cambridge’s Zero Carbon were prevented from carrying out a banner drop at the boat race by police.

Cherwell has contacted the Bodleian Libraries for comment.

Figure made from rubbish appears on RadCam in suspected climate protest

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A human figure made from rubbish has been placed on the side of the Radcliffe Camera. The figure is accompanied by a sign reading “WHAT HEIGHT WOULD YOU GO 2 4 THE WORLD// OX RISE UP”.

No group has publicly claimed responsibility for what is presumed to be a climate protest.

The event follows a series of international climate protests, led principally by the Extinction Rebellion movement. Key areas of Central London were blocked by activists, including Piccadilly Circus and Waterloo Bridge. Mass arrests were made early on the morning of the 16th, with over 120 Extinction Rebellion members being removed from their protest sites.

The Oxford branch of Extinction Rebellion also joined the movement in London, blocking Edgware Road with a contingent from Southampton.

This protest comes just over a week after the Oxford Climate Justice Society was prevented from carrying out a banner drop at the boat race by police.

The Bodleian library has been contacted by Cherwell.

Oxford student launches new app which crowdsources information about venue accessibility

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Australian lawyer and entrepreneur Matthew Pierri created the app, SociAbility, in order to fill an “unmet need” in the disabled community.

The app is intended make it easier for disabled people in finding out which pubs, cafes, bars, and restaurants are accessible.

Pierri, who recently completed a Master of Public Policy at the University’s Blavatnik School of Government, based the idea from his own experiences as a wheelchair user in Oxford. He is the CEO and founder of the project.

The app provides details such as the number of steps, if a ramp is available, how wide the doors are, or how big the bathroom is at a particular venue.

It is reported to be launching in June this year. The app’s supporters include The Oxford Hub, Lincoln College, and the University’s Van Houten Fund.

The SociAbility website states: “By making it quick, easy, and free to find access information, SociAbility is empowering people with access needs to enjoy greater social engagement, and to socialise with greater confidence, purpose, and ease.”

It also highlights its potential effects on the social spaces themselves, arguing that “SociAbility helps [venue owners] to better appreciate how these [accessibility] barriers might be affecting your business.”

Matt Pierri told Cherwell: “SociAbility is an ambitious start-up working to empower disabled people to enjoy greater social engagement and inclusion. 

“Right now, it’s simply too difficult to find out whether a venue is accessible or not. For the millions of people with access needs worldwide, this can make socialising with family and friends stressful and unenjoyable. 

“The SociAbility app makes it quick and easy to find detailed, reliable and accurate access information for local venues (cafés, restaurants, bars etc) and shops. We’re building a database for the community, by the community.”

 “Simply download the app, fill in key access details about your favourite venues (eg. the number of stairs, door widths, photos), and help make the world a more sociable place for all!

“This is access information that works – get the details you need to judge accessibility for yourself. We need your help, Oxford! Join the community by signing up on our website at www.sociability.app!”

You can follow SociAbility’s progress on their Twitter, @sociabilityapp, where you can find latest updates.

Lady Gaga is not a receptacle for your pain

It’s been almost two years since the release of Chris Moukarbel’s documentary about the pop icon super-star Lady Gaga, a.k.a. Stefani Germanotta. Gaga: Five Foot Two is supposedly about the release of her upcoming album Joanne (2017) which marked a turning-point in Gaga’s career as she trades glamour, glitter, and meat dresses for a relaxed cowgirl-chic. However, the documentary is just as much as a cry for help as Gaga suffers through award shows, chronic back pain, and heartbreak, providing a unique insight into her personal and private struggles with fame.

For me, the highlight of this fly-on-the-wall movie comes within the first ten minutes as Gaga gets drunk during a recording session at Mark Ronson’s studio. The song she’s playing throughout the scene is one of the album’s hits, ‘Million Reasons.’ During her numerous smoking-breaks, she chats drunkenly to studio musician, Nick Movshon, about the interactions she’s had with men in her personal and professional life. ‘I’m not a receptacle for your pain!’ she complains as her companion giggles, uncomfortably making eye-contact with the camera as if she expects us to say ‘oh Gaga, off on one again.’ We see Stefani become increasingly frustrated by Nick’s refusal to engage with her fears about women being manipulated by men in the industry, she even hits at Ronson doing so, though we rather struggle to believe anyone could control her as she dominates the screen, even in her inebriated ‘kill the patriarchy’ state. ‘I’m not just a place for you to put it’, she continues, and though the “it” she is referring to is masculine pain the double-entendre is painfully evident. Nick seems to speak for the men she berates as he awkwardly responds ‘right’, looking visibly uncomfortable.

Though this documentary gears itself to reveal the pop star, she defies her director, enigmatically veiling herself in lyrics and names and cowboy hats. One of the film’s most touching moments comes when Stefani meets with her grandmother and father to show them her new song ‘Joanne’ after which the album is to be named. The song is supposedly inspired by the tragic death of her young aunt and though you have no reason to doubt the truth of her story, you wonder if it seems a little too good to be true.

In a way, part of the documentary’s success in showcasing Gaga’s life is in quite how mundane it becomes. Gaga is just like everyone else, as much as it seems she’d rather not be. She eats chicken for lunch, wears unflattering sweatpants, and smokes with that same tinge of guilt.

The film also considers Stefani’s injury, which seems as much psychosomatic as physical. Gaga describes how it ‘flares up when I’m feeling depressed’, though it stems from some damage she did to her hip during her Born This Way tour. Though we all know she’ll get on stage for her Superbowl performance, Moukarbel seems to delight in exaggerating the severity of her injuries and build an unnecessary – and arguably unconvincing – suspense as to whether she will ultimately perform, which, of course, she does.

Artistically, the documentary is a masterpiece. The opening sequence alone follows the almost magical flutter of the balloons Gaga received from Bradley Cooper, as thanks for starring in the now-released and highly-acclaimed A Star is Born. I find myself very happily seduced by the film’s cinematography and am lulled into a sense of security that, even if it’s all probably rubbish, it’s quite pretty to follow absently for an hour.

‘So if I’m going to be sexy on the VMA’s I’m going to do it whilst bleeding to death and reminding you of Marilyn Monroe,’ Gaga says, concluding her drunken conversation with Nick, though it’s more like a monologue, by defending her choices: past and future. Though it becomes very obvious at this point that the wine she’s been drinking for the past couple of recording sessions has started to take effect, the idea really appeals to me. She wants to juxtapose sex and death. She wants you to think immediately that fame is unnatural and that there is something wrong or ‘deathly’ about it. Her words seem to recall her 2011 hit: ‘Oh there ain’t no other way / Baby I was born this way.’ But moreover, that there shouldn’t be another way. Most importantly, perhaps, the documentary acknowledges what Gaga herself has come to realise: she doesn’t need to dress up her songs as more than they are. She is finally beginning to appreciate that her words have an impact on their own.

Oxford student shortlisted from over 5,000 entries for global story award

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Nuzha Nuseibeh, who is studying at Oxford for a PhD on the sociology of educations, has been nominated for the Commonwealth Short Story prize for her story, ‘Love-life’.

The story is described on the website for Commonwealth Writers, who run the award, as a “half-love story for the millennial generation.

The organisers describe their mission as to “inspire and connect writers and storytellers across the world, bringing personal stories to a global audience.”

Nuseibeh was one of two writers from the United Kingdom to make the 2019 shortlist. In total, 5,081 people from around the world entered this year’s contest.

Nuseibeh told Cherwell: “I’m honoured and over the moon to have been shortlisted for the Commonwealth Prize—I still can’t quite believe it!

“It’s a wonderfully diverse, exciting and inclusive prize, and has been since the start, and I’m a great admirer of the judges on the panel.

“The other shortlisted authors are wildly impressive as well, so I feel very privileged to be included alongside them.”

The decisions will be made by an “international judging panel” consisting of writers from each of the “five Commonwealth regions: Asia, Africa, Canada and Europe, the Caribbean and the Pacific.”

Chair of the Judges, British novelist, playwright and essayist Caryl Phillips said: “The vitality and importance of the short story form is abundantly clear in this impressive shortlist of stories from around the world.

“These authors have dared to imagine into the lives of an amazingly wide range of characters and their stories explore situations that are both regional and universal.

“Compared to many literary prizes, the Commonwealth Short Story Prize is still young. However, with each passing year the prize gains importance within the literary world. It offers a unique opportunity to read and think across borders, and to connect imaginations from around the globe.

“It has been a great honour to be a part of the judging of the 2019 prize.” 

To qualify for the award, stories have to be unpublished, and have a word count between 2,000 and 5,000 words in English. £2,500 is awarded to regional winners, while the overall winner receives £5,000. The contest also accepts translated entries as well as stories written in the original Bengali, Chinese, Greek, Kiswahili, Malay, Portuguese, Samoan, Tamil and Turkish.

The competition is free to enter.

Alice Oswald tipped to become next Oxford Professor of Poetry

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Alice Oswald is tipped to become the first female Oxford Professor of Poetry, according to The Sunday Times. Elections are expected to be held this term to select a successor to Simon Armitage, who currently holds the position.

The professorship is one of the most prestigious positions for poets, behind the Laureateship. Previously the position has been held by poets such as Seamus Heaney and Matthew Arnold.

A woman has previously been elected to the position, with Ruth Padel winning the vote in 2009, but Padel resigned just nine days after the vote, before she had officially begun the role.

Oswald, who read Classics at New College, received critical acclaim for her collection Dart. The collection was inspired by her research into the history, environment and community along the River Dart in Devon.

In 1994, Oswald won the Eric Gregory award, and in 1996 her collection The Thing in the Gap-Stone Stile won the Forward Poetry Prize for Best First Collection. Oswald’s work has since been recognised by numerous other awards, including the T.S. Eliot Prize and an Arts Foundation Award for Poetry.

The Professor of Poetry is responsible for giving a termly public lecture: current Professor, Simon Armitage, has lectured on a wide range of themes including his work on Sir Gawain and the Green Knight.

Oswald is supported by the poet Craig Raine and Emma Smith, Oxford Professor of Shakespeare Studies.

Nuns n’ Rosaries

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Bring up Catholicism and I get defensive. We aren’t all paedophiles and misogynistic homophobes. I could denounce my faith, yes, because at 21 I am finally free to decide between acting in keeping with or counter to my religion. But doing so would be pointless. Even if I am no longer a regular church-goer, my upbringing has made Catholicism a permanent element of my identity. I can no easier give it up than I can being of Irish origin.

My dad is dubbed ‘the most Catholic person I know’ by many. Church on a Sunday, as a result, was not up for discussion. It was as non-negotiable as our address, or our surname: something we share and something that wasn’t changing any time soon. As a child, exemptions from Church attendance were: a Saturday night sleepover, Dad being abroad for work, and dance exams. That these events should be so perfectly timed was a rare occurrence and, consequently, greatly anticipated when the rebellious stars were set to align. No one likes exams and I missed my dad in his absence, but the thrill of missing Church made these minor hardships well worth experiencing. Now, I miss Church on the regular, only attending on high day and holy days. I’ll be back in my local parish for the Holy Saturday Vigil Mass: a mammoth two hours which are supposed to be more sacred than Christmas.

Dad has finally stopped displaying active disappointment in me when I’m home on the Lord’s day and I opt for a lie-in instead – it only took him 20 years. (I think my sisters get off lightly, but that’s always the way.) I’ve confessed, been forgiven, made my First Holy Communion, been Confirmed and helped spread The Word to Sunday School attendees. I’ve had black, oily soot smeared on my forehead for Ash Wednesday, clutched palm crosses on Palm Sunday, held flaming oranges and been picked on during homilies, or sermons if you are (lucky to not be) Catholic. Currently, to rephrase Rachel and Ross, Catholicism and I are ‘on a break’. After the years of confusing rituals, Latin chants and awkward divulging of child-sized sins to some ancient and unknown priest, I feel like I’ve earned a breather. I calculated that I must have spent between 1250 and 1500 hours of my life in Mass.

My school was called The Catholic High School, as if it were claiming to be the only one in existence. It is, rather less impressively, the only one with a sixth form, for a 25 mile radius. Its motto is ‘christo fidelis’ or ‘faithful to Christ’, but instinct tells me that teenage pregnancy, possession of drugs by Key Stage 3 pupils on school premises and assaulting teachers are, in fact, displays of relative unfaithfulness to JC. Placing a crucifix in every classroom does not change this. RE was compulsory, the rhythm method advocated, the school nurse banned from handing out condoms and, most shockingly, even the laddiest lads would belt out the hymns during termly Mass. Our forms were named after saints, the room where naughty kids got sent to work in isolation was called ‘Trinity’ and our whole uniform bottle green emblazoned with a yellow cross. Nicknamed ‘Bible bashers’ by the neighbouring secondary, we dodged edible grenades on the way to and from school. And being a serious-looking ginger of small stature gave me no prospects beyond repeat victim. I think my old headteacher’s proudest achievement was naming his band ‘Nuns and Rosaries’ after ‘Guns n’ Roses’. 

School was entertaining at best and perplexingly traditional at worst. I don’t think Catholicism brings much to modern-day relationships, least of all when you’re young. My parents never spoke to me about a prospective boyfriend until I went to Oxford. My dad’s prize jibe was ‘I can’t wait to meet posh Tarquin’. After nearly three years, Tarquin is yet to make it on to the scene, I hasten to add. Sex is taboo in our household, so my mum had to awkwardly relay my dad’s adamant request that my boyfriend sleep two floors down from me when he visited. Is it really any wonder then, that prior to this relationship I, in the words of my mother, “used Tinder to the detriment of my self-respect”? Speaking of Tinder, my first seven dates were, coincidentally, with Catholics. Given that we are a dying breed among the English student population, it certainly provided scope for bonding. On the contrary, those who hadn’t been brought up Catholic thought it hilarious that me, an ex-Catholic schoolgirl, was now nailing her swiping game instead of fantasising about the convent. (No, we are not all tortured by self-imposed celibacy before marriage.) I could never be open about an abortion, or, God forbid, I had had to come out as anything but straight.

In spite of my father’s highly questionable views and his attempts to shove them down my throat, I will always love him. He and my mum have given me so much: a stable, loving home, foreign holidays, music tuition and, crucially, encouragement to apply for Oxford. My parish priest, an Oxford graduate himself, even gave me a mock interview to plug the gaps my school had left. I attribute the traditional Catholic values to little more than generational differences; you would be hard-pressed to find a young Catholic nowadays who espouses all the views contained in catechism. I know from experience that you can associate with a religion without doggedly following all its teachings. And, above all, I am certain that spirituality is what counts because then all religions can be equal. I am neither inferior nor superior to others by being Catholic – but it does give me a laughably clear insight into life in 16th-Century Europe – very handy for writing my literature essays.

Reflective Awakenings

 

The Victorian period was one defined by immense social change – especially in regards to women’s position in society. Throughout the century, increasing debate led to the reconsideration of attitudes towards women’s employment, marriage and sexuality, and this large-scale reassessment was increasingly explored by the pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, whose art focussed heavily on the idealised female form.

While most people are familiar with the typical pre-Raphaelite motifs – such as the flowing red hair and elongated, delicate features a familiarisation with a number of their paintings will highlight recurring symbols: female passivity, when present, often exists alongside mirrors (which regularly symbolise the inaccessible and the forbidden).

An example of this specific motif is in Holman Hunt’s depiction of the Lady of Shalott (based on Tennyson’s 1832 poem). In the painting, the Lady is depicted immediately after the mirror “crack’d from side to side” and the curse has come upon her. The viewer’s eye, despite being distracted by a mess of coloured, floating wool and a fantastical fresco on the walls, is guided towards the mirror in the background; reflecting the unseen half of the room, the presence of a Knight can be made out from behind a column.

Originally, in the poem, the mirror is the Lady’s only point of access to the outside world, as it allows her to look outside indirectly, preventing her from breaking her curse. However, this is not the case in Holman Hunt’s painting, as he captures the moment in which the mirror becomes vitally corrupting, for the sight of the Knight through it spurs the Lady to turn and look towards Camelot, instantaneously bringing about her subsequent demise. The pre-Raphaelite interpretation of the poem is one which focuses on the mirror solely as a symbol of the Lady’s simultaneous isolation as well as the cause of her death. The presence of the mirror in this crucial moment reminds the reader of the Lady’s involvement in her death, and surely implies slight condemnation on the painter’s part, as he seems keen to remind us of her culpability, implying blame for her naïvety.

Female isolation is equally present in Dante Rossetti’s Lady Lillith, a painting which focuses on a woman combing her flowing, red hair (in true pre-Raphaelite style), holding a hand-held mirror. Clearly idealised, with her dress slipping below her shoulder and with deep red lips, the viewer is initially led to appreciate the sitter aesthetically. Despite her beauty, however, she is distant; while the viewer looks on at her, she is absorbed in her own reflection. This sense of ignorance is emphasised by the presence of the mirror in the top left of the painting, which demonstrates another dimension that she is not tending to.

However, this seemingly vain admiration adopts a dark significance when read alongside an inscription which Rossetti inscribed below a later watercolour copy: “When she twines them [her locks] round a young man’s neck, she will not ever set him free again”. Having read this inscription, the woman is transfigured: she is not simply admiring her hair, but actually her means of physical control over men. Although there is an initial sense of contempt for Lillith’s vanity, her dominance over men distinctly empowers her. Moreover, her explicit enjoyment of her own power surely inspires admiration in the viewer; Lillith is empowered by her reflection, for the mirror allows her to become aware of both her superficial beauty as well as the power which her hair affords her.

One shouldn’t be too quick to label this motif as being solely reductive, as it is arguably so in The Lady of Shalott. In fact, the motif is also used in a way which evokes quite the opposite meaning; this is no more so than in The Awakening Conscience, Holman Hunt’s 1853 painting, a personal favourite of mine. In the painting, a young couple is sat in front of a piano, with the woman (who is a ‘fallen woman’ – she is not wearing a wedding ring) slowly rising from her lover’s knee. Her movement towards the pair of open, glass doors seen in the mirror behind her is not symbolic of repression or inescapability. Rather, it is used to give the woman freedom, as consciously seeks redemption for her sin. In this painting, the motif is entirely empowering, as it presents the opportunity for salvation for the female muse, especially at a time in which women were condemned for sexual behaviour much more harshly their male counterparts. With her back to the mirror, as well as her lover, the viewer is able to understand that the subject is shunning her former sin; the mirror’s sun-lit visage, depicting a spring scene outside, affords the viewer with a glimpse at what she sees. In distinct contrast to the mirror in The Lady of Shalott, the mirror in this painting is used to demonstrate the woman’s opportunity for redemption and revitalisation through the ‘awakening’ of her conscience and rejection of her old lifestyle. Despite being masked by shade, the corner of light in the bottom right of the painting represents the opportunity which the subject is moving towards, and will imminently arrive at. In a notable reversal, while in The Lady of Shalott, the Lady’s turning away from the mirror causes her demise, the mirror can also symbolise redemption, as it does here, for it allows reveals to the viewer the woman’s ability to access forgiveness.

The motif of mirrors might demonstrate the brotherhood’s reductive attitudes towards women: in The Lady of Shalott, for example, the window not only oppresses the subject through showing her the unreachable but also leads to her causing her own death, which is implicitly scorned by the artist. However, although the mirror in Rossetti’s Lady Lillith is partially used to highlight (as well as condemn) the subject’s vanity, it simultaneously empowers her, as it allows her to admire her means of power over men.

Even more empowering is the mirror in The Awakening Conscience, which is demonstrative of redemption for the ‘fallen woman’, especially in a period where women faced significant resentment for their sexual autonomy. While no decisive conclusion can be drawn from exploring this specific motif, one can begin to understand the brotherhood’s complex relations with their female muses. The existence of the motif itself and its sole association with women illuminates the varied contemporary attitudes and allows us to understand the extent to which women in the 19th-century were continually reduced to objects of artistic symbolism.