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“Slightly out of joint”: Hamlet Review

CC 1.0 / via New York public Library

That Isaac Asimov’s retelling of a bemused reader’s response to Hamlet – ‘I don’t see why people admire that play so. It is nothing but a bunch of quotations strung together’ – has itself become a well-worn anecdote is only a testament to the challenges faced by those daring to stage the play today: acknowledging Hamlet’s canonical status has become clichéd, it is already canon. What can a new production do now when confronted with all that has already been done? There’s only so many different ways you can inflect ‘To be or not to be’. The play itself is haunted by Old Hamlet’s ghost, and today the play’s past versions haunt all those who dare to take it on. 

Carys Howell seems to recognise this in her Hamlet, which played at the Keble O’Reilly. In Act 2 Scene 2, she has Claudius, bored and hungover, flick through a programme while Polonius pontificates in front of him. The programme used turns out to be for The Motive and the Cue, Jack Thorne’s new play about John Gielgud’s 1964 production of, you guessed it, Hamlet. Recognising a difficulty, though, is not the same as overcoming it. 

This production’s new, present-day, concept was advertised quite explicitly. The marketing team of Nicole Gibbons and Evie Holloway promised a ‘press angle’, as Howell described it in a Cherwell interview. Professedly inspired by recent media coverage of the Royal Family, this production promised to explore the impact of newly emerging forms of media, both social and otherwise on public life. Occasionally, we see Howell’s production live up to this. Between some scenes we hear talk radio-style discussions of Elsinore’s ongoings. In a tone more combative than anything we could hope for from the British media, these additions bring the political infighting of the Danish court into the present day. The new media angle also feels meaningful in Hamlet’s mockery of Polonius. Scrolling on his phone, Josh Sneddon claims to read ‘words, words, words’ and, later, ‘slanders’ from ‘satirical rogues’. 

Apart from this, though, the references to new media are quite rare, and feel tacked on. Entering the theatre, we see two actors lying on stage engrossed in their phones, but nothing comes of this. Occasionally, a stage manager comes onstage with a video camera, but the actors never give it any attention, nor does it seem to lead anywhere. There is another problem, though, that first becomes noticeable with the entrance of the video camera. The direction too often follows Robert Icke’s direction in his 2017 version with Andrew Scott. Sneddon’s Hamlet hides behind a sofa in Act 1 Scene 3 just as Scott’s does, and this is not the only instance of copying. Like in Icke’s, the search for Polonius’s body is stylised with torchlight. This continues to the play’s end, when each of the dead characters in the play’s final scene stand up during Hamlet’s monologue and pass him to exit upstage, while Old Hamlet’s Ghost returns once more. The second biggest laugh of the night comes when Claudius mistakes Rosencrantz for Guildenstern and vice versa, only for Gertrude to correct him. This is a joke straight from Icke’s production. Influence is one thing (Howell cites the set design from Icke’s version in her Cherwell interview), but this much results in a production that just feels like a pale imitation. 

As for the acting, the standout performer is Joe Bangbala as Old Hamlet’s Ghost and the First Player, who brings an intensity of presence and clarity of speech that sets him apart. Meg Bruton as Horatio brings an endearing quality that justifies Hamlet’s fondness of her, and Nic Rackow’s delivery of Claudius’ public pronouncements is assured. Josh Sneddon plays Hamlet well in parts. He has a habit of pausing in places that loses the meaning of the lines, so that, for example, ‘I do not know why/ Yet I live to say “This thing’s to do”’ turns ‘I do not know why yet I live’ and ‘This thing’s to do’ into separate impulses, with ‘to say’ stranded in between. Perhaps he wants to imply that Hamlet is coming up with his speech in real time, but this comes across as formulaic, especially when combined with his persistently ironic tone. He would do well to follow Hamlet’s own advice to the players: ‘Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to you, trippingly on the tongue.’ 

It is also regrettable that Sneddon fluffs some of his lines. We lose even some lines that Asimov might claim as part of the string of famous quotations, ‘What’s Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba,/ That he should weep for her’ being one of the most noticeable. It is not an easy task to learn all the lines for the title character of Shakespeare’s longest play, especially when combined with the demands of a degree, but that is what Sneddon signed up for, and he falls short of it too often. That said, his performance grows stronger in later scenes, and he has a good rapport with the more minor characters, especially in scenes in prose. 

As a whole, though, the production’s most successful moments are additions that don’t come from the text. When Claudius video calls his emissary, Voltimand, he tells him, deadpan, ‘I think you’re on mute’. All the major laughs come from these sorts of extras. Humour already in the script, like The Gravedigger’s claim that in England ‘the men are as mad as’ Hamlet, tends to fall flat. Similarly, the design team seems to be at odds with the text used. Old Hamlet’s Ghost is dressed well in a dark military suit, and yet he is still described as ‘in complete steel’. The fencing foils in the final scene both have obvious rubber tips on the end, despite Laertes admitting to using an ‘unbated’ sword. Howell is clearly not opposed to minor alterations to the text (she changes the word ‘hugger-mugger’ to ‘speedily’, presumably to make the dialogue easier to understand), so in this vein we ought to have consistent alteration carried throughout. 

When Hamlet can finally tell us ‘Now I am alone’, his moment to speak uninterrupted with the audience is barged in on by a soundtrack that seems intended to convey intrigue. Yet, near the end of that same soliloquy, when some intrigue actually presents itself in his plans for the play within the play, the track cuts and Sneddon mutters ‘the plays the thing/ Wherein I’ll catch the conscience of the king’ as he rushes off stage with a blackout coming halfway through the line. This, to me, is symptomatic of the main problems with this production. In parts, the production is interestingly original, but, for the rest, we are left with a production that hasn’t spent enough time thinking about the play as a whole and its specific details. It is all just slightly ‘out of joint’.

‘Understanding and appreciating those of other cultures is the number one tool we have to respect’: In conversation with travel influencer and entrepreneur, Kacie Rose

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Image courtesy of Kacie Rose

I sit in my room on a sunny Tuesday afternoon, scrutinising my face on Zoom as I wait for Kacie to join the call. I have followed Kacie’s instagram for months. While I was studying Italian in Florence over the summer, my feed flooded with restaurant recommendations and ‘La Dolce Vita’ captioned videos. Kacie’s skits stood out to me the most. Her funny and relatable ‘culture shock’ series on TikTok are what brought her social media stardom, but she is adamant that navigating her new online presence was not effortless. “Nobody writes a guidebook of what to do when you go from having zero eyes on you to millions. It’s so beautiful in one way. I was suddenly connecting with people all over the world … but after the culture shock series, I was getting 50,000 followers overnight.” Hate comments were overwhelming. “I cried everyday for a week.”

Kacie was a stranger to social media stardom until moving to Italy in 2021. Having grown up in Michigan, she moved to New York City at age seventeen with the dream of dancing professionally. “The midwest is known for its innate kindness, in the sense that people are very humble. Then you get to New York and people are very blunt and direct.” I ask which region had more influence on her. Launched head-first into a new pace of life, Kacie thrived off NYC’s multicultural bustle. Her adventurous online presence comes from a decade of building a career for herself in one of the world’s most frenetic cities. “New York is a city where anything can happen, and it’s beautiful in that way. You go from zero to a hundred very quickly.” This intensity, however, coupled with the toxicity of the performing arts industry, pushed Kacie to the edge. Marketability can compromise creative expression. As Kacie says, “an industry run by those with numbers in mind.” Enveloped in dance and five other jobs to support herself, Kacie was burnt out: “I’d grown to hate the industry so much that I was starting to lose my love of dance.”

COVID-19 was the silver lining. With theatres shut down and audition rooms empty, it was a time of re-evaluation. Having met her boyfriend Dario whilst travelling in Italy, moving to another country was on the cards. She is passionate about taking on challenges and taking yourself outside your comfort zone. “I believe in myself that I can do hard things. Life is too short not to do scary shit.” It was within her first week of living in Italy that Kacie picked up TikTok. What started as a fun pastime in mandatory quarantine grew overnight into an influential platform, sharing cultural differences and travel tips. Yet online hate is inevitable. Many comments attacked Kacie’s intelligence because she was American. “I made a promise to myself early on that I didn’t want to curate anything. I gradually realised that I was never going to please everybody.”

Kacie describes moving abroad as learning how to ‘do’ life all over again. Simple things that you wouldn’t think twice about doing in your own country, suddenly become overly complicated. “I didn’t know how to schedule a doctor’s appointment or where to buy a birthday card.” Transparent with these struggles on social media, Kacie makes them opportunities for humour. Living abroad is not all excitement and novelty. Homesickness often comes with a good dose of guilt. There looms an expectation that one should always be ‘grateful’, Kacie tells me, which is unrealistic. 

‘Do the shit that scares you’ is now the catchphrase of Kacie’s travel business, Kacie Rose Travel. A far cry from the Broadway stage, Kacie now hosts group trips, taking people from all over the world through various regions of Italy. I ask which trip has been the most memorable. “My first ever group trip. I was so nervous, I felt so much anxiety. I thought it was a mistake. They knew it was my first group trip and they embraced it, they ran with problems and they were so kind and supportive. At the end of that week everyone was standing in the hotel lobby crying whilst saying goodbye to each other. I was shown such beautiful support by people I didn’t know a week beforehand.”

I was interested to ask Kacie how she feels her brand combats negative stereotypes of Americans being insular and untravelled. “If you live in the middle of America, to get to the East coast it can cost $400. Let alone travelling overseas. Most Europeans don’t understand what life is like for the average American. What I aim to do is open up those doors and share another perspective. Understanding and appreciating those of other cultures is the number one tool we have to respect.”

Kacie’s career versatility is a perfect example of embracing the unexpected. I ask her for any advice she may have for students wanting to expand their circles and discover life in other countries. She says that we shouldn’t become wrapped up in one sole ‘purpose’. The world is too wide to settle in one place with the same job your whole life. “You’re allowed to have other hobbies and interests. It’s ok to pursue multiple things. As humans, we all want the same things, we just achieve them in different ways. And you will never understand that until you travel.”

Kacie Rose is online on Tiktok at kacierose4, and on Instagram at @kacierose_. To find out more about Kacie Rose, visit her website.

Why We Might Not Beat Climate Change

Image Credit: US Government/CC 1.0 Deed

In an interview with Kate Raworth, author of Doughnut Economics, Rory Stewart and Alastair Campbell critiqued their guest’s rejection of economic growth. While Raworth maintains that a new model is necessary to build a sustainable eco-economic system, Stewart and Campbell argue that the idea is simply politically infeasible. Both views are right. A model along the lines of the sustainable ‘doughnut’ that Raworth advocates is necessary if we are to avert the horrifying culmination of our 200+ year industrial experiment, yet is also impossible to implement in our current political system. A candidate or party advocating for such solutions simply opens themselves up to electoral annihilation. 

Is replacement of our current political and economic model really necessary? Surely substantial progress has already been made? Case in point, the Inflation Reduction Act. Passed by the Biden administration, it was a landmark piece of legislation that transformed the American response to the climate crisis and provided a beacon of climate leadership for countries all over the world. China, the world’s largest carbon emitter, has made pledges for reducing their emissions and is rapidly investing in renewables. Yet while major countries continue to talk about slashing their emissions, and endless COPs promise the final turning point for climate action, global emissions continue to rise and rise

But even the current terrifyingly threadbare climate action may not last. The impassioned prayers of climate scientists were delivered with Biden’s victory in the 2020 US election on promises of substantial climate legislation. But with Biden’s popularity flailing, and deepening polarisation meaning that the Republicans are intransigent in their denial of climate change while the world burns, any GOP victory will lead the world’s largest democracy in a fossil fuel boom that will guarantee that any chance the human race has to avoid the worst is snuffed out. In Britain, the ruling Conservative Party, for example, set out the goal of net zero by 2050, including a provision for no new petrol or diesel cars to be sold by 2030, yet already the influence of pressure groups and right-wing outriders occupying the climate sceptic policy space have led the Conservatives to weaken their goals. Across Europe, right-wing parties are leading a backlash to green policies that threatens to undermine EU emissions targets. 

Therefore, consider this thesis: the Western economic and political system is patently unable to accommodate the complete transformation that adapting to climate change would require, having developed through the industrial revolution and the use of fossil fuels. The consumption of fossil fuels, which is destroying the environment, is also baked into national and global systems of governance. Campbell and Stewart both made this connection, the former referencing a ‘gulf’ between what needs to happen and ‘the political realities in democracies’. An increasingly apparent pattern is that the necessarily radical climate policies prove politically unpalatable, or that their cost is exploited by ideologues and cynical opportunists alike for electoral gain. Infrastructure projects like implementing renewable energy generation are hugely expensive and are scrapped or shrunk by recession-hit treasuries. Attempts to curb individual emissions like 15-minute cities are portrayed as attacks on individual liberties (obscuring real problems to be solved like their effect on low-income families). Degrowth and similar ideas are seen as simply further impoverishing already impoverished working people, and thus lie beyond the political pale. These are all changes that we need if we are to stand a chance against climate breakdown, yet are all changes that are unthinkable.

Of course, Western democracies are not the world. But the West clearly has an urgent duty to reduce emissions, due to having both some of the world’s highest per-capita emissions and because of the historical contribution to climate change. Cynical electioneering may lead liberal democracies to abandon their efforts to tackle climate change, a death sentence for any hope of meaningful and direly needed global action. The complex systems sustaining human civilisation cannot withstand the radical transformation that climate change will bring (see the paper by Steffen, Will et al. ‘Trajectories of the Earth System in the Anthropocene.’ Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences – PNAS 115.33 [2018], which explains the multiplicity of earth-systemic tipping points that, once reached, further accelerate climate breakdown in a feedback loop).The current equilibrium of the Earth system is at breaking point and yet global political leaders delay, ignore and frustrate the action that is necessary. We need political actors to overturn the same system that has installed them in the first place.

I would strenuously clarify that I do not have a vision of an alternative political system, and I certainly do not believe in an ‘eco-dictatorship’. I strongly and passionately believe in my country’s system of liberal democracy yet it may be totally unsuited to our era of entirely unprecedented and existential crisis. The truth is that I don’t know the answer. I can offer a diagnosis but I am at a loss for a treatment. The only rational response to this two-headed paradox may be doomerism, an acceptance of the inevitable entailing giving up any attempt to stop runaway climate change. But this, too, is surely the wrong answer. It is our duty to not only the rest of humanity, but our descendants, and our forebears, to do everything in our power to preserve the Earth system that has fostered our species. If there is even the smallest, barest chance that we might yet save these things, then we must try. 

Image Credit: US Government/CC 1.0 Deed

A life on screen

Illustration of Tom Hanks' filmography
Artwork by Madeliene Storer

Many claim that the age of the movie star is dead, but Tom Hanks can definitely give them a run for their money. Recognised globally, with 43 years in the film industry and countless accolades behind him, Hanks has cemented himself as one of cinema’s golden boys.

On December 1st, the Oxford Union will host this titan of acting for the first time to deliver a speech to students, with his arrival guaranteeing queues unravelling from St. Michael’s Street and a strong media presence. 

And rightly so! At a time of heightened scepticism towards the cult of celebrity and the disproportionate presence of ‘Nepo babies’ on screen and stage, it is refreshing to be reminded that there are still those who have reached the peak of fame through pure dedication to their craft. So whether you know him best as Forrest Gump, crying out “Wilson!”, or simply as the voice of a toy cowboy, Hanks’ undeniable talent deserves a deeper look.

Hanks began his movie career acting a small role in the low-budget 1980 slasher, He Knows You’re Alone. Even with Hanks’ blink-and-you’ll-miss-it appearance as Elliot the student, he ostensibly impressed filmmakers so much that they decided to cut out his death scene which was originally in the script.

It wouldn’t be long until he earnt lead roles, such as the ABC television series Bosom Buddies, running between 1980 to 1982. Hanks, alongside Peter Scolari, starred as two advertising men disguised as women living in a dirt-cheap, female-only apartment. Playing on gender stereotypes that usually involved Hanks, the show became known for its use of improvisation. “I knew he’d be a movie star in two years”, said co-producer Ian Praiser about him. Bosom Buddies held solid reviews until its cancellation and became the foothold for Hanks to launch a successful stint of comedic performances.

Take his first lead role in Splash, a surprise box office hit which earnt $69 million in 1984. It was a fantasy rom-com where Hanks’ character falls in love with a mermaid.This was immediately followed by the sex comedy film Bachelor’s Party where Hanks’ character embarks on a quest to remain faithful during an epic bachelor party.

The highlight of Hanks’ early career in comedy was no doubt the 1988 fantasy comedy Big, which earnt him his first Academy Award nomination and a Golden Globe win for Best Actor in a Musical or Comedy. Grossing over $150 million worldwide and earning critical acclaim for his lead performance, Big cemented Hanks as a Hollywood star.

It wasn’t until 1992 that Hanks experienced his next big hit in A League of Their Own. A sports comedy-drama based on the real-life All American Girls Professional Baseball League. The film grossed over $130 million and proved a critical success, with Hanks at the lead once again. In 2012, the Library of Congress agreed to preserve it in the United States National Film Registry for its cultural significance.

 1993 was another pivotal year for Hanks’ career seeing the release of the rom com classic Sleepless in Seattle, which remains widely touted by critics as one of the greatest of all time. 

His role in Philadelphia earnt him an Oscar, where Hanks plays a gay lawyer with AIDS who sues his former employer for wrongful termination. Philadelphia is significant, not only for addressing HIV and AIDS, but for portraying gay people in a positive light which wasn’t common at the time. Hanks has commented that the movie would be difficult to make today. He questioned if audiences would “accept the inauthenticity of a straight guy playing a gay guy”. 

Forrest Gump, is a name synonymous with Tom Hanks, a role he truly made his own. Personally, it was my first memory of him on screen and one that has always stuck in mind. The role made him only the second man, after Spencer Tracy, to win back-to-back Oscars for Best Actor. Grossing over $600 million and solidifying him as a household name, the movie also graced popular culture with “run Forrest, run” and “life is like a box of chocolates”. The film follows the life of slow-witted Alabama man Forrest Gump. It recounts his journey unwittingly bumping into key historical figures and events including Elivis Presley, JFK, the Vietnam War, Lyndon B. Johnson, the March on the Pentagon, John Lennon, and Richard Nixon.

Hanks’ next role after his string of successes was as astronaut Jim Lovell in 1995’s docudrama Apollo 13. It depicts NASA’s aborted third attempt to land on the moon and the improvisation and brains behind bringing them back to Earth safely. This was another smash hit to put under Hanks’ belt, grossing over $350 million. Hanks had been hoping to do a film on the Apollo 13 mission and was ultimately cast due to his knowledge of Apollo and space history. He even had to attend U.S. Space Camp to prepare for the role.

Voice acting was the next fortuitous step Hanks took in his career. He took a chance on the first ever computer-animated comedy film by the small Pixar Animation Studios. In a world where toys come to life when no one is looking, Hanks filled the snake-housing boots of Sheriff Woody. The Toy Story franchise would go on to have three sequels and a prequel, grossing $3.3 billion worldwide. Again, Hanks’ performance provided notable moments that would last as memories in the collective consciousness of viewers, such as his rendition of You’ve Got a Friend in Me, or yelling into the face of an unconvinced Buzz Lightyear, “you are a toy!”

Maintaining his newfound dynamicism, Hanks ventured into his writing and directing debut on That Thing You Do! In 1996. The comedy told the tale of a fictional 1960s one hit wonder band, Hanks starring as the band’s manager. Although critically acclaimed to this day, That Thing You Do! has not held up to be as culturally significant as Hanks’ other works. Hanks would go on to found a Playtone, a record and film production company, named after the record company in the film. Another writing and directing project he undertook played on his passion for space, just as in Apollo 13. The HBO docudrama From the Earth to the Moon chronicled the space program and particular hot points such as the moon landings. The show would go on to bring home multiple Emmys, including one in Hanks’ name for Outstanding Miniseries.

The next step for Hanks was teaming up with Steven Spielberg for the war epic Saving Private Ryan. Portraying a US army captain suffering from PTSD through the landing of Omaha Beach to the rescue of Matt Damon’s Private Ryan picked him up yet another Best Actor nomination at the Oscars. Widely considered one of, if not the, best war movies ever made, Hanks certainly put his stamp on the genre. Most memorable was his desperate taking on of a Tiger I tank with a mere pistol, and coming out alive.

Hanks would continue adding to his successful career in acting with roles in the adaptation of Stephen King’s The Green Mile, alongside Leonardo DiCaprio in Spielberg’s Catch Me if You Can, and the Coen brothers’ The Ladykillers. He maintained his impressive knack at collecting prestigious awards and recognition. He earned another Oscar nomination for Best Actor for playing a marooned FedEx employee who bonds with a Wilson volleyball in 2000’s Cast Away. He took home Emmys for direction and production work on the HBO television series Band of Brothers.

In the last ten years Hanks has kept his career in the spotlight, receiving critical acclaim for portraying a captain taken hostage and Walt Disney in 2013’s Captain Phillips and Saving Mr. Banks. He became the first actor to portray Disney in a mainstream film. He made the move to Broadway with his debut coming through Lucky Guy. His portrayal of journalist Mike McAlary earned him a Tony Award nomination for Best Actor in a Play. All the more culturally significant was his appearance on the music video for Carly Rae Jepson’s I Really Like You, where he appears lip-syncing all the lyrics to the song. The video sits on 300 million views as of time of writing.

Hanks would go on to earn his final Oscar nomination for A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood for Best Supporting Actor, becoming the TV presenter Fred Rogers in his biopic. His latest pictures saw him portray Tom Parker, the manager of Elvis Presley in Baz Luhrmann’s Elvis and a disaffectionate father-in-law in Wes Anderson’s Asteroid City.

Hanks now has a trophy cabinet of two Oscars and twelve Emmys. In 2002 he was awarded the AFI Lifetime Achievement Award and in 2016 he picked up both the US Presidential Medal of Freedom and the French Legion of Honour at the rank of Knight. Worldwide, his films have grossed nearly $10 billion and he regularly tops the lists compiling the best actors and most influential celebrities of all time. Who knows what he’ll make of little Oxford? 

A guide to homesickness

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Image Credit: Andrew Neel via Pexels.

We’re now in the middle of the Michaelmas term. The first term always feels like the longest because there are no bank holidays or breaks in between. It is at this time that, with all the distractions of freshers’ week gone, feelings of homesickness often emerge. 

One of the most crushing things about homesickness is the stigma attached to it. We feel it is a ‘non-emotion’, or a childish set of feelings. This is not true. It is a real thing. For many, coming to university is a big change from the way they were used to living, and soit can create a crisis of identity. The tug-of-war between the life we had and the life we now have generates overwhelming feelings. Homesickness is the ache from an old wound. It takes time to get used to. 

Living in the care system, where moving home and sometimes even country, homesickness had become a fact of my life.  These are a few tips I’ve picked up along the way on how to deal with it.

1. Don’t crawl the walls.

When a bout of homesickness creeps up on you, the temptation to isolate yourself can be crippling. Changing the scenery can transform your feelings.  Encourage yourself to have regular but small positive social interactions. At sixteen, I moved from a children’s home on the Isle of Man to a ‘supported lodgings’ (a privately rented bedroom) in the UK. I was ripped away from my entire life and dropped into the middle of rural England. I found that going out to regular open-mic nights helped relieve the social isolation and meet new people. 

Get outside. Force yourself to meet new people. Go to events. Embrace your new life.

2. Doom scrolling is not a comfort blanket. 

It’s easy to spiral into a doom-scrolling loop to deal with the overwhelming feelings. In fact, it’s just an avoidance tactic or coping mechanism which achieves the exact opposite. If you find yourself endlessly scrolling through apps, put your phone down, and check in with yourself and see what it is you’re feeling. 

. Real life is not online. Put your phone down. Give yourself space. Follow point 1. 

3. Listen to music that makes you feel happy.

The great thing about music is that it creates the soundtrack to our lives. It’s a potent tool in shaping our emotions and memories. At any point I feel vulnerable, I stick on a favourite album and go for a walk. I find this a compelling way to work through what I’m feeling and help me think more clearly. Research has also shown that listening to music you like releases dopamine (the feel-good chemical) into the brain. 

Create a playlist. Plug your earphones in. Tune into the good emotions. Drop the homesickness out. 

4. Don’t suffer in silence. 

One of the most striking things I’ve found when moving to a new place is that everyone understands what it is like. And everyone seems to have advice on how to deal with it. At Oxford, I guarantee you are not the only one dealing with homesickness. Sometimes, talking through your feelings or sharing anecdotes from home can help reduce the homesickness. This will also help in forging new relationships in the new life you now have. 

You’re not the only one. Share your experience. Surprise yourself. 

Homesickness affects everyone at some point in different ways. Through sharing, we can normalise these feelings and avoid the isolation that comes with them. 

Image credit: Andrew Neel via Pexels.

Just Stop Oil: help or hindrance?

Image Credit: Lies Thru a Lens / CC BY 2.0 via Wikimedia Commons

The recent protest outside the Radcliffe Camera is just one in a series of demonstrations staged by Just Stop Oil to draw attention to increasing global temperatures and the catastrophic effects of climate change. As well as painting the Radcliffe camera orange, previous protests have included shutting down the M25, interrupting play at Wimbledon and throwing soup at van Gogh’s Sunflowers at the National Gallery –  to name only a few. As temperatures continue to rise whereas governments continue to delay climate action, we are once again compelled to question whether Just Stop Oil’s actions are proactive, or simply disrespectful towards the general public?

It is widely agreed that the Earth is warming at an unprecedented rate, with global surface temperatures having increased faster since 1970 than in any other 50 year period over the last 2000 years (UN). The IPCC states that there is ‘unequivocal’ evidence that humans are the cause behind this warming and that only immediate action can secure a liveable future. The UK government, on the other hand, announced recently that it would be awarding 27 new oil and gas exploration licences in the North Sea in an attempt to ensure the UK’s energy security and reduce our need for imported energy.  Even in light of this political climate, the actions of climate activists, such as those involved in JSO, remain highly controversial amongst both Oxford University students and the wider public.

Interestingly, research shows that there is a stark contradiction between the opinion of the public and media over the use of disruptive protests and the opinion of academics. Polling by YouGov in February demonstrated that up to 78% of Britons believe that such disruptive protests hinder activists’ causes. Meanwhile, new research conducted by the Apollo surveys on behalf of the Social Change Lab showed that nearly seven out of ten academics surveyed considered these tactics to be ‘at least quite important’ to the success of a movement, ranking it as more important than media coverage or strictly avoiding violent tactics. 

One particular reason for this contrast is suggested by survey respondent Louisa Parks, associate professor of sociology at the University of Trento, Italy- who outlined how disruptive protests are prone to causing immediate public and political backlash but generally have a more positive impact in the long-term, stating that ‘broader cultural changes could be provoked despite short-term backfire effects’. This links to the idea of the so-called ‘radical flank’ effect within a social movement –  when radical tactics are seen to increase support for a moderate faction within the same movement. Indeed, it could be argued that despite the initial public outrage following the vandalisation of the Radcliffe Camera, it has sparked more widespread debate surrounding Oxford University’s own climate policies –  including its connections with recruitment into fossil fuel companies. 

This is in no way a new concept- even after the extremely controversial ‘Insulate Britain’ campaign in 2021, mentions of housing insulation in the British press more than doubled. There are now calls for a ‘wartime effort’ on insulation coming from a cross-parliamentary committee.

Despite this, much of the student body remains unconvinced following JSO’s vandalism of the Radcliffe Camera, with one student from Jesus College stating that this type of protest risks ‘turning the public against a valid cause’. Part of the issue encountered by JSO activists in gaining widespread support is that many think that their demonstrations target hardworking, innocent people. Moreover, some may argue that targeting socially and culturally significant buildings such as the Radcliffe Camera or artwork such as van Gogh’s Sunflowers could be considered deeply inappropriate and immoral.

However, whilst such acts of vandalism may seem completely outrageous and disproportionate, one must consider the cause of these protests and the extent of the climate breakdown that we may soon be facing. An important distinction to bear in mind, especially when considering the current actions of the UK government and the proposed construction of new oil fields such as Rosebank, is that the extent of the global temperature increase relies not on how fast we are able to reach net zero but upon exactly how much greenhouse gas we have emitted into the atmosphere within this timescale. The severity of the issue is best understood when one considers the analysis conducted by the Global Carbon Project, who highlight how, if we are to have even a 50% chance of limiting warming to 1.5°C, our remaining carbon budget (the amount of carbon we can release into the atmosphere) is equivalent to only 380 Gigatonnes of CO2. This may seem like a large amount, but is in fact only equivalent to nine more years of emission at 2022 levels before we have less than a 50% chance of meeting the 1.5 ° C target set by the Paris Agreement. 

These statistics are striking and provide only limited insight into the current state of the global climate system. If, as is looking increasingly likely, we overshoot this target, the situation is likely to look far worse – a warming of 4°C above pre industrial levels could result in unprecedented heat waves, severe drought, and major floods in a number of regions. This would have considerable impacts on human systems and ecosystems, and likely result in a considerable loss of life. 

Therefore, when one considers the possible devastating impacts of such extreme climate change, acts of protest such as vandalising the Radcliffe Camera suddenly seem infinitely less problematic. One might even argue that such acts of protest are not only justified, but absolutely necessary in order to reflect the current gravity of the climate emergency. Even though their tactics are often initially frowned upon by the general public, I argue that the acts of groups such as JSO seem to play a unique part in motivating governments, universities and corporations to take real climate action.

Vegan sage gnocchi

Image credit: Bruno Armitage

Outside the church at the end of my street I recently spotted a small, carefully cultivated herb garden. Upon further inspection of this aromatic Cowley beacon, I found in and amongst the indestructible rosemary and rather sad looking mint, the tell-tale light green leaves of sage. I must confess, I couldn’t resist the temptation to return the next day and nab a few of them. Forgive me father, for I have sinned.

Call it divine inspiration, but as I picked out the best leaves my holy Cowley sage shrub had to offer, all the while taking furtive looks over my shoulder to check I was in the clear, I knew exactly what I wanted to make. Problem was, as a practising vegan, I realised I couldn’t savour this woody herb in what must be its purest, most delicious form, that is, fried with gnocchi in brown butter with lemon and enjoyed as is. I need not have been so dismayed, because as I’ve found out, not only is a vegan spin-off of this classic entirely possible, but (whisper it quietly) it’s better than the original. Here’s how to make it.

The actual cooking of this dish is pleasingly simple. Cook the gnocchi in well salted water until they float, then fish them out with a slotted spoon and fry them in a non-stick pan in plenty of good extra virgin olive oil – a competent and delicious stand in here for butter, that won’t burn if you get it too hot, and doesn’t involve cows. Don’t be shy with the oil, it is the base of the sauce. The idea here is to brown and crisp the gnocchi a little bit. Give them a head start before adding the sage, with an optional whole bashed clove of garlic, and cook until your kitchen smells amazing and the sage is slightly crispy. 

Keep hold of some of the starchy gnocchi cooking water, as this can be added to the pan, then reduced and agitated to form a glossy emulsified sauce that coats the gnocchi and carries the taste of the sage brilliantly. The coming together of the sauce can also be helped along by a tablespoon or two of nutritional yeast, which acts as thickener of sorts, and lends what the packaging describes as a cheesy and nutty flavour. I couldn’t agree more. Once reduced and an emulsion formed, add the juice of around half a lemon, season to taste, and give it another toss. The lemon at this stage offers some very welcome freshness in an otherwise aggressively savoury meal. Serve and top with freshly black pepper and a drizzle of fresh olive oil if you’d like, and enjoy a shockingly delicious, simple and satisfying meal.

This recipe works well with pre-made gnocchi from the supermarket, but making gnocchi is easy and the texture is noticeably superior. Gnocchi from scratch also falls nicely into the surprisingly short list of hands-on meals that take around an hour, and are perfect to make with your friends. Having had a pumpkin spice donut from Crosstown earlier in the day, I was struck with autumnal fervour, so my gnocchi are made with sweet potato that placated my desire for something orange on my plate. 

For around 4 portions, boil roughly 500g of peeled and chopped sweet potato in salted water until very soft. Drain the potatoes, and mash well in the pot they were cooked in, before laying them out on a chopping board or surface and mashing further with a fork until smooth. It’s a good idea to leave the potato spread out on the board to cool at this stage, as some of the moisture will evaporate, meaning your gnocchi will need less flour. Once cooler, begin working in flour to the potato, bit by bit, until a soft kneadable dough is formed – it will probably need more flour than you think. Before rolling it into shape, leave it to sit for at least 15 minutes, which will hydrate the flour and make the dough far easier to work with. After the dough has rested, split into smaller lumps, dust a surface with flour, and roll into sausages as wide as you’d like your gnocchi to be. Cut lengthwise with a sharp knife into pillow shapes and place on a separate plate so the gnocchi doesn’t stick to each other. 

While this process is a little time consuming, the end result is worth the effort. Put on some music, crack open a beer, and thank yourself for escaping the tedium of pesto pastas and oven pizzas that might otherwise populate your kitchen. 

Teddy Hall claims new accommodation could save students £2000 in housing costs

Image credit: simononly, CC BY 2.0 via Wikimedia Commons

St Edmund Hall’s new accommodation is part of the college’s plan to house all its undergraduate students for the entirety of their course rather than finding private accommodation in second year, potentially saving students time, money, and stress.

Currently, only 60% of students can live in college-owned accommodation, and very few undergraduates have the option of living in college-owned accommodation for the entirety of their course.

Teddy Hall has said the project would save students £2000 in housing costs as they would not have to seek expensive private accommodation. As a result, the college claims that the new site would “improve access to higher education for those from low-income backgrounds.”

Nevertheless, accommodation at Teddy Hall is not cheap in comparison with other Colleges; a first-year room in the college itself costs £28.85 a night.

Second-year students usually have to rent privately and Teddy Hall’s website recommends: “that you start your search for second-year private-rental accommodation halfway through your first term”.

One student described the process as “very stressful”, especially “having to find people to live with after not knowing them for very long”.

Other students detailed the strain that house-hunting placed on academic work with organising calls and house visits during term time or instead of going to lectures.

The new development includes 127 study bedrooms and communal facilities and is on the college’s Norham Gardens site, currently used for postgraduate accommodation, off Banbury Road. The new site will therefore be a 22-minute walk from St Edmund Hall. Nevertheless, most students currently live further from the College on Iffley or Cowley Road.

Professor Baroness Kathrine Willis, principal of the College, said: “This once-in-a-generation development for the Hall … embodies care for two precious things – our students and our planet.”

The accommodation is part of the College’s aims to move towards net zero in energy use and to encourage biodiversity with an estimated 88% net gain in biodiversity over the site.

The architects – Wright & Wright Architects – have also designed various buildings around Oxford including for St John’s College and have said that the new development is likely to be finished in 2025, with work to start later this year.

The building will welcome its first students in the autumn of 2026.

Podcasts: where they’ve been and where they’re going

Woman speaking into a podcast microphone
Artwork by Ella Carran

Ah, podcasts. These days, it’s easy to feel like everyone’s got one. Seemingly every week a new politician or former footballer is launching their show and at the same time, your mates are spamming your social media urging you to listen. The big question is why? What’s behind the sudden boom in a format that’s existed for nearly 20 years and what is it that makes the medium so attractive to Ed Balls, Gary Lineker, Joe Rogan, and your best friend alike?

As I say, although podcasts might seem like a recent invention, they actually started out life way back in 2004. That was when Adam Curry and David Winer first harnessed RSS feeds to bring their favourite radio shows to the IPod that was released a few years earlier, hence the amalgamation of ‘IPod’ and ‘broadcast’ to give you the name, ‘podcast’. Apple added native support a year later in 2005 and the industry plodded along for the next seven or eight years in a fairly low-profile way. Initially dominated by existing radio shows and hobbyists, it was until the early 2010s that some of today’s most famous shows were born. 2009 saw Joe Rogan launch ‘The Joe Rogan Experience’, in 2011, ‘The Vergecast’ was born, and a seminal moment came in 2014 when NPR first recorded ‘This American Life’. Still dominated by the United States, Apple announced that it had 1 billion listens on its platform in 2013 and in 2019 Spotify entered the game with the acquisition of Anchor before making Joe Rogan exclusive to its platform two years later. All of this is to say that, especially stateside, podcasts are nothing new.

The last five years or so have seen an explosion in growth, most notably in the United Kingdom. Ten years ago, just 12% of people had listened to a podcast and that is now up to 50% in the UK. As of last month, a staggering 4,256,179 podcasts had been registered globally and the past two years have seen celebrities from Harry and Megan to Steven Bartlett enter the game in a big way. The looming question though is why, especially when only around 5% of shows make any kind of money.

The answer lies in a few key areas but, more than anywhere, in the freedom that hosts are afforded. Much like YouTube offered a platform to millions in the 2010s, podcasting gives people a place to speak about what they want, when they want, how they want. Even better than YouTube, there is no need to invest in expensive camera equipment or spend hours in an edit suite.

This is probably a good time to declare my personal bias towards podcasting. As well as an avid listener to dozens of shows, I am also the host of a food show and launched last term’s Cherwell Weekly podcast. For me, the low barrier of entry was absolutely vital. I never set out to make any kind of money from my episodes, where I interview chefs and people in the food industry about their restaurants and their journeys. To this day, I sometimes record conversations with the microphone in my laptop and spend less than an hour editing together my conversations. Of course, there are far more high-production affairs than mine but that flexibility has, with no advertising whatsoever, seen me travel the world to record episodes and an average of 100,000 listens on every one.  

That intimacy and freedom is something that countless hosts much larger than myself talk about. A great example is The News Agents, which has seen three former BBC journalists launch their own space to investigate topics that they choose for as long or as little as they want, exactly how they want.

Clearly, the personal element of listening is a two-way streak and certainly nothing new. In some ways, the medium is filling the gap left by the radio industry. Somewhat uniquely in the UK and perhaps due to the popularity of the BBC, the decline in radio listening has been far less substantial. Today, 89.6% of adults still say that they listen to the radio at least once a week, down just one percent from 2010 and at least 10% higher than in the US. 87% of consumers say that having someone else’s voice was one of the key reasons that they tuned in.

However, whereas space on the radio waves is limited and pricey, podcasting’s breadth gives space to niches that consumers delight in. You’d be very unlikely to discover a live radio broadcast about professional cycling, technology news, or female health, and yet some of the biggest podcasts in the country tackle those very topics. Radio dramas have become the reserve of Radio 4 listeners and yet narrative and true crime podcasts have developed an industry of their own.

That personal connection manifests itself physically too, sometimes to extraordinary levels.  Live tours from the likes of ‘The Rest is Politics’, ‘High Performance’, and, ‘The Football Ramble’, have sold out venues across the country and beyond. ‘The Peter Crouch Podcast’ (undoubtedly a personal favourite) takes things to a whole different level with ‘Crouchfest’. This now annual event recently completed its third edition and saw the trio of Peter Crouch, Chris Stark, and Steve Sidwell, sell out Wembley Arena (capacity 12 500) without announcing a single element of the show beforehand. Hosts from that show are regularly greeted on the street with inside jokes from the podcast and their international reach has led to calls for them to take ‘Crouchfest’ abroad.

On the back of all of this rapid development Oxford has developed an entire podcasting world of their own. The University led the way on this back in 2008 when they launched their first podcast channel, originally on the iTunes U platform. Since then, more than 5,360 hours of content have been released as part of the University’s desire to expand its reach and accessibility to all communities. The official website says that downloads have come from 185 countries since the first release and that new episodes are put out almost every day by different departments. Much like The Open University looked to democratise education and Khan Academy brings free educational resources to all, Oxford clearly sees podcasts as a platform to help future applicants and those in far-flung corners of the world alike. It is perhaps no surprise that those two other institutions have followed suit with podcasts of their own.

On the student side, several shows have come and gone over the years with the re-establishment of Oxide Radio two years ago providing a useful outlet for numerous. The Loaf Podcast, hosted by two students, has attracted guests as wide-ranging as Alistair Campbell and Wim Hof to its chat show format since originally launching out of the student radio station. Speaking about the format, the pair said that, “Podcasts can be filmed but – importantly – they don’t have to be. This means people can record shows with nothing more than a microphone. It also means that someone can listen to them on the go, which seems to be why they’ve become so popular.” Speaking to the personal connection mentioned earlier they said that, “The reward for us comes in the form of listener engagement and the joy of learning.”  The explosive growth means that, “it also presents itself as a potential career.”

From personal experience, I can only echo those sentiments. The inherent paradox of podcasting is that you are speaking to the entire world in the most personal of mediums. The combination of both of those things is what makes it such a powerful and attractive platform. As I always say to my guests, at the end of the day you’re just letting someone else in on your chat.

Going forward, experts are split on what the future might hold for podcasting. Despite the fact that advertising revenues are set to hit $4 billion early next year, key players such as Spotify are signalling a retreat. Their CFO Paul Vogel said last week that podcasting was proving to be a ‘drag’ on profits and CEO Daniel Eck said that the company was, ‘constantly finding new ways to bring more efficiencies out of the business’ whilst notably omitting podcasts from the vast majority of a recent shareholders meeting. In the past, Spotify had made huge investments in the area and catalysed the huge growth in the industry. Despite this, I’d be surprised if the area as a whole really took a hit. Remember that 38.4% of all podcasts are started as a hobby and that only 5% make sustainable income – any change in the viability of shows as a business is unlikely to affect the vast majority.  As radio continues a slow decline, the gap is bound to be filled by different audio content – there is a reason that hearing other peoples’ voices in your ears has been so popular for so long.

The Not So Secret History: moments of clarity

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Plants

Is ‘happy fifth week’ a contradiction in terms? Either way, I hope yours isn’t going too badly. We’ve reached the stage in term where no one realistically has the mental capacity to read a whole page of information, so instead I’m going to give you a series of episodes that have taken place in the house over the past few weeks. Besides, until the inevitable end-of-fourth-week crash I wasn’t generally in the house and conscious for more than a few minutes each day, so this way you’ll get my authentic experience. Lucky you!

We’ve had quite a few visitors over the past couple of weeks, both of the two and the four-legged variety. A few weekends ago I hesitantly left The Cook in charge of my two dogs while my parents took me out for lunch. 

‘Will they be ok?’ the parents asked me anxiously as we left, ‘The dogs can be quite full-on!’

‘I’m sure they’ll manage,’ I reassured them. Halfway through lunch I checked my phone, to be met by no less than thirteen images from The Cook. They had apparently decided to give the dogs an impromptu photoshoot, posing them everywhere from the arm of the sofa to sitting under the oven while they cooked. Needless to say my parents’ fears were assuaged. 

The Cook also went back for a few much-needed home comforts the following weekend and, fed up with overpaying for supermarket herbs we would inevitably throw away after they died on our window sill, returned with a mini herb garden they’d smuggled onto the train. We are now the proud owners of rosemary, basil, thyme and parsley plants, and ‘Herb Tending’ has been duly added to the weekly list of chores. We got into some difficulty at first deciding which should become indoor residents and which outdoor, and quickly discovered the advice online is far from clear. Not wanting to put all our basils on one windowsill so to speak, we decided a little scientific investigation was necessary, and split the plants up with the aim of testing how they fared in different conditions.

Five humanities students who haven’t so much as lit a bunsen burner since GCSE double science struggled to recall the difference between a control and an independent variable, but after trial and error and some help from a biologist college spouse we managed to get at least one plant of each type in the right place. If anyone’s wondering, basil does need direct sunlight, but thyme likes a shady indoor spot. Who said this column wasn’t educational?

Last week was a big week for The Thespian and The Classicist, who spent most of this term in rehearsals for their big show before being out every evening of fourth week making sure it ran smoothly. It has curiously become something of a whole household project: I was officially involved on the show on the marketing side, but even The Poet and The Cook managed to wheedle a mention in the programme. Admittedly, if you count all the rehearsals and production meetings that they overheard taking place in our kitchen, they have probably put more hours into the show than some of the crew, but their most concrete (and unexpected) contribution was made last week. I came home late one evening to find The Classicist had left a bottle of whiskey in the kitchen – seeing a full bottle of alcohol was immediately a suspicious sign, and upon closer inspection  I saw the following note: ‘DRINK ME. Need it for a prop but I don’t like whiskey.’ It soon transpired that none of us actually liked neat whiskey very much, so I suggested we make whiskey sours–which happens to be one of my favourite cocktails–as a nice housemate activity one evening.

Imagine my outrage when I arrived home, admittedly again quite late, the following evening to an empty whiskey bottle, a pile of lemon rinds and a very sticky cocktail shaker. I’m ashamed to say my shriek of indignation actually roused The Poet from their bed and sent them running to the kitchen for fear of an intruder. Once I’d been calmed down enough to listen to reason, it transpired The Poet had taken up my suggestion and made whiskey sours all round, making short work of the bottle in my absence. I suppose it serves me right for spending too many evenings out of the house. At least I can now watch the show safe in the knowledge that their valiant efforts have made it possible for an actor to appear to get very drunk off nothing stronger than peach ice tea, and the non-thespians can say they’ve made their Oxford theatre debut.

And now for the bit you’ve all been waiting for: the landlord updates. Not much to report here, except that the council came in for routine inspection. The Cook’s first reaction: ‘Oh no! I accidentally left some soil in the shower when I was watering the herbs. The council people are going to think I’m really dirty’. They didn’t mention it. What was slightly strange was that a representative from the letting agency came too, which resulted in a highly entertaining sitcom style routine, whereby the council person would tell us something was wrong (for example, the mould sprouting from the bathroom wall), the letting agent would tell us it was our fault, and then the council person would politely tell the letting agent that no, actually, it’s their responsibility and they shouldn’t be expecting us to live in these conditions.

It quickly became clear that we weren’t going to be getting in any trouble, so we started showing them all the many things that are wrong with the house. The council man, feverishly scribbling away at his clipboard, was barely able to keep up, and the letting agent began to look at us like a parent whose child is embarrassing it in front of other grown-ups. The only backlash we’ve had so far was being sent a bottle of mould spray in the post by the letting agents, which when sprayed onto the wall and wiped off took all the paint work with it. And so it goes on…Perhaps one week I’ll write this column and have no complaints whatsoever about our lovely house. But what fun would that be?

After the madness of the first half of term it’s safe to say I’ll be retreating into the house to hibernate for a while, although since we have a housemate pact not to turn the heating on until at least Hilary I might get forced out again by the cold. But until that time, I plan to stay firmly put, and hopefully I’ll have a more cohesive story for you all next time.