Sunday 12th October 2025
Blog Page 721

Reflections of a soon-to-be finalist

Maxim Parr-Reid
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Reflections of a soon-to-be finalist

I’ll tell you something, just reading the words ‘soon-to-be finalist’ is enough to stop my mindless scrolling through Facebook dead in its tracks, partly because I read it as ‘soon-to-be unemployed’ almost by default!

Looking back, my second year couldn’t have been lazier if I tried. There’s something thrilling about being 5 VKs in at Park End and seeing your future slip away into a cloud of mist and strobe lighting. Still, second year was a joy! It was perfectly balanced, if by balanced you mean a beer in each hand. I suppose that is the privilege of an exam free year, and I shall just have to hope that the wood panelling muffles my tears of desperation as this lifestyle becomes just a faint memory and finals draw ever closer.

My final year certainly won’t be like second year, where days (and nights) slipped by in comfy routine of binge-drinking and sleeping off hangovers until midday, and where only a handful of essays (much to the chagrin of my tutors) got even a 2.1. Time to be ‘practical’, time to be ‘efficient’: both concepts I have heard of, but have yet to become fully acquainted with at Oxford. Most worryingly, I won’t be able to live off student finance after my finals, which is beginning to make me think: maybe postgrad isn’t such a bad idea after all…

Most finalists take a workaholic strategy and you have to hand it to them, it pays dividends. Staring up from my 2.2s on OxCort, I reminded myself that this university is home to so much talent: geniuses, future world leaders, the best minds in the country. Under such circumstances, it seems implausible that I actually did reasonably okay in first year. But 18 hours of exams now stand between me and escape and finals are a very different beast. If anybody needs me, you’ll find me popping a chain drinking cups of coffee to maintain my sanity as I begin to read over the seemingly infinite pile of notes I’ve managed to keep hold of.

However, it’s easy to forget these exams are still nine months away. There are still a plenty of good club nights to go to at Bully and I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t be making the odd appearance in Cellar between now and then. It would be nice to have a life, for the first term at least.

One way or another I will get through to the end of my final year, but my prediction is that the journey will be far less relaxed than I have become used to. This being said, I can’t wait for another year to begin and to bring with it a new set of challenges and opportunities. And fingers crossed I’ll even come out of the whole thing with a decent degree.

Ant-Man and the Wasp review – the best comedies come in the smallest packages

Jonnie Barrow
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Ant-Man and the Wasp review – the best comedies come in the smallest packages

The Marvel Cinematic Universe has had a pretty banner year so far. Between the instant “cultural landmark” status of Black Panther and the phenomenal fan reaction to Infinity War, the financial and critical response to their films may never have been better. But the ever-increasing scale of their films threatens to get exhausting. We need to scale things back down with something lighthearted…preferably a film involving Paul Rudd on maximum charm offensive, Michael Douglas using “quantum” as an arbitrary prefix enough times to create a drinking game, and Evangeline Lily being as fierce as she is fiercely likeable. We definitely a film that can somehow involve a giant ant playing a rocking drum solo. We need Ant-Man and the Wasp.

Marvel has cannily positioned the Ant-Man franchise as the ultimate palate-cleanser after their more apocalyptically dark entries, as the first one chased the tail of Avengers: Age of Ultron. But there are some key differences this time around: firstly, the state of the wider Marvel universe has never been bleaker, which threatens to make this latest entry a tad disposable by comparison. Secondly, the first Ant-Man had significant upheaval behind-the-scenes, as director Peyton Reed was hired extremely late in the day to replace Edgar Wright and work with a cohort of new writers to revise what Wright had planned. This sequel represents Reed’s first opportunity to craft an Ant-Man tale from the ground up.

The most significant change is how much looser this is than the original in just about every sense. The basic premise is pretty straightforward: the story picks up two years after Scott Lang (Rudd) got busted for helping Captain America punch some airplanes in Civil War, and follows Scott’s efforts to help Hope (Evangeline Lily) and Hank Pym (Michael Douglas) recover Michelle Pfeiffer from the quantum realm – efforts that threaten to be thwarted by Ghost (Hannah-John Kamen), a mysterious hooded figure with some tricksy matter-phasing abilities.

But where the original was a tightly plotted heist movie that merely appeared loose and fun thanks to the affability of Rudd and his co-stars (especially the inimitable Michael Peña), Ant-Man and the Wasp is pretty ramshackle in its screenplay construction. There are two sets of villains for no other reason than to give our heroes more people to kick in the face, and a lot of the plot revolves around chasing after an object, recovering the object, losing the object and chasing after it again. Audiences with a low tolerance for meaningless technobabble may also struggle with a lot of the unnecessarily complicated dialogue.

But you’d be forgiven for not noticing any of that because it’s easy to get caught up in the charm of the stars, the steady stream of good jokes and the inventive uses of shrinking and growing tech for action-comedy purposes. Avoid the trailers if you can, because I’m not sure there’s a single instance of fun shrinky/growy stuff that hasn’t made it into the promotional material, but it’s all sufficiently engaging and inventive in context – especially during a stand-out car-chase through the streets of San Francisco.

The bottom line is this: if you liked the first Ant-Man film, you will enjoy this continuation. Even if you don’t enjoy the other Marvel films, it’s a solid comedy that functions well as a straightforward follow-up to the original, confining all of the MCU-building to the post-credits scenes. If you leave as soon as the credits start then you’ll have enjoyed a fun, lighthearted romp that can absolutely be enjoyed in (relative) isolation. And if you stay, well…don’t say I didn’t warn you.

First Year

Alice Blinkhorn
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First Year

In the final week of my first year at Oxford, I volunteered to give a group of year 10 students a tour of my college. They were keen, engaged and curious. We covered the basics first: what is the social life like, what is your timetable like, how does the college system work? Towards the end of the session, one of the students asked me: ‘What are the bad things about Oxford?’

The question took me by surprise. When giving tours and answering admissions queries, one tends to focus on the positives. ‘It’s difficult for me to say,’ I replied weakly. ‘I’ve had a great first year,’ was the best I could come up with on the spot.

I thought about it afterwards. I had had a great first year; that was not mere lip service. I had attacked Oxford with the voracity of a captive animal suddenly released, and my first year was characterised by its variety.

Rowing might be a popular target for jokes and jibes among students, but the opportunity to learn to row, for free – in a real boat! with a real coach! – is not one that I would ever have had at home. I had acted, too, in both an Ancient Greek comedy and a modern dystopia. I was involved in all kinds of voluntary projects. I went to concerts and discussions and film screenings and lectures that I saw advertised. I even played croquet. I started learning Hebrew for no reason at all, except that I thought it would be interesting. I had met the most incredible group of people – from all kinds of backgrounds, from all over the country, from all over the world. I had been astonished to find out that Oxford was so much fun, and I revelled in the fact that I seemed to fit in, like I had never fitted in anywhere else.

And then there was the work. Fortunately, it was never a chore for me: I genuinely adore my subject. The phrase ‘challenging but rewarding’ has never been so apt. It was a steep learning curve, but I loved the pace, the constantly renewed challenges, and seeing myself improve week on week. The more I learned, the more I wanted to learn. Waking late on a Sunday morning, enjoying a generous college brunch, and working through the day in one of Oxford’s many quaint coffee shops became my routine.

I am aware that this is not a universal experience. There are, of course, bad things about Oxford. It’s an expensive place to live, college life can be isolating, and the intensity of the short terms can be exhausting. I have seen people pushed to breaking point. Sometimes the leaden weights of prestige and expectation can feel more like burdens than a stepping stones. The beautiful buildings are not always sufficient to annul the stress and the fatigue that can hit at any time. Learning how to navigate those feelings is tricky, and the Oxford experience can feel overwhelming. However, I have been positively surprised by the support system in place. It is an infallibly accepting community. Everyone knows that Oxford is demanding, and – at least at my college – there is an expansive network of people who are eager to support you in any way that they can.

I fell hard for Oxford: the city and the University. It is difficult to focus on the negative aspects of Oxford life, because for me, the University continues to represent a land of opportunity. Oxford is variety, diversity, tradition and change. For me, it’s a lifeline: Oxford is the antidote to my relentlessly mediocre hometown. From matriculation to trashing, my excitement has only grown.

Review: Hive Mind by The Internet

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Review: Hive Mind by The Internet

Favourite Tracks: Come Together, La Di Da, Mood, Next Time/Humble Pie, It Gets Better (With Time)

Rating: 6.5/10

The Internet is a band that straddles the alternative hip-hop world of their Odd Future origins and a host of influences from the LA jazz scene, classic R&B and the recent neo-soul resurgence. Hive Mind signals the end of the band’s curiously-timed hiatus at the peak of their success following a Grammy nomination from their breakthrough 2015 record, Ego Death, in order for members to pursue various solo projects (such as the psychedelic synth-heavy The Drum Chord Theory and Christopher A. Smith’s brilliantly weird Loud).

This record – their fourth so far – is a welcome return to form for The Internet. It is a real feature for the band itself with its only guest appearance being a verse from Atlanta native Big Rube. This is in stark comparison to Ego Death’s feature-heavy tracklist which included Janelle Monáe, KAYTRANADA, Vic Mensa, and Tyler, The Creator.

Hive Mind opens with the aptly-named ‘Come Together’. The brilliantly-groovy intro sets the pace for the rest of the project. A fast two-bar samba bass line, complete with handclaps and a taste of Moonchild’s Andris Mattson’s flugelhorn introduce the track before the texture suddenly drops into the half-time neo-soul groove that the band is known for. Throughout the track, Matt Martians’ deep vibrato synths provide a retro aesthetic to the otherwise very contemporary music.

‘Roll (Burbank Funk)’, the album’s main single, is a disco tune at its core. The looped drums and bassline give a club-friendly backing to Steve Lacy and Syd’s ambient, delay-heavy vocals, and Martians’ spacey Rhodes chords. ‘Come Over’ utilises a similar texture of looped drums, but with a live bass track which gives vitality to a perhaps otherwise forgettable track. The production is, however, brilliantly creative. For instance, one of the snare samples sounds like Matt Martians is chopping carrots, and the mellotron choir during the chorus is exactly what is needed to pad out the sound. A bizarre skit in the final quarter of the track introduces a short groove, clearly in the style of Thundercat, whose influence overflows into the next track, ‘La Di Da’, where Thundercat’s signature sound has informed  Lacy’s guitar production. This track has to be one of the best on the album. With an excellent laid-back Latin groove throughout, the breakdown feels almost like a salsa mambo – except for Lacy’s Backstreet Boys-style spoken address to the ‘ladies’ which brings it back to R&B.

‘Stay the Night’ is the first downtempo track on the record, underscored by a light cross-rhythmic texture between the half-time 3+3+2 guitar accents and the 4×4 drums and vocals. Here, the two guitar solos (though excellent) feel unnecessary structurally, and take away from the overall mood of the song. Perhaps a deviation from the eight-bar loop at some point would have been a better way to keep the track interesting, but overall it is a nice contrast in terms of the album as a whole.

‘Bravo’ is another slower track, but here there is a clearer groove provided by the wonky programmed drums and yet another delicious Patrick Paige II bassline, mixed brilliantly by studio legend Jimmy Douglass AKA ‘The Senator.’ There are even what seem to be sleigh bells deep in the mix. Why? Well, why not? This is The Internet, where vibe and coolness are primary. ‘Let me get you in the right mood’, sings Syd in the next track, ‘Mood’. Featuring a return of the Mellotron choir, Moonchild horns, muted bass, and modulated guitar, this is one of the strongest tracks on the album.

‘Next Time / Humble Pie’ is a diptych which marks the halfway point of the album. Each half serves to highlight the different styles of the primary instrumentalists Steve Lacy and Matt Martians respectively. ‘Next Time’ is an up-tempo modern classic R&B love song, with a looped foundation and strummed guitar chords and stops. Humble Pie is a rewarding, psychedelic and spacey compliment to this. With long-form syncopations a la ‘Stay the Night’ and retro string samples punctuated by a low key drum loop made up of hi-hats (panned left) and an up-pitched snare (panned right). The panning serves to avoid giving the song too much of a groove-focus with the spacey synth textures ad effected vocals at the centre.

The second half of the album opens with the smooth ‘It Gets Better (With Time)’. As well as featuring the Big Rube verse, this is the first time we hear bassist Patrick Paige II drop some spoken-word style rap halfway through. The heavy 4×4 kick of the next track, ‘Look What U Started’, rather than giving it a heavy overall vibe is in something of a conflict with the sparsely textured verses (often just bass and vocals). By the chorus, this is resolved as Matrians’ keys and Lacy’s guitar balance out the texture, creating one of the most readily danceable tracks on the record (despite its slow tempo). Nevertheless, this track still seems to leave something more to be desired.

‘Wanna Be’ is a welcome contrast for the final part of the album. The tightly swung groove and catchy Erykah Badu-esque vocals give this an undeniable classic neo-soul sound with a retro vibe. There is even a Motown 4×4 snare in the chorus! ‘The Beat Goes On’, a testament to the track’s own rhythmic persistence as well as the emotionless trudging forward of time, is another two-part track. The first half is defined by Christopher Smith’s semiquaver hi-hats with Lacy returning on lead vocals. The second half is a lively 150-bpm breakbeat-heavy contrast with a repetitive hook based on the same idea, and is very different to much of the rest of the album.

The album ends with its longest track, ‘Hold On’: a standard neo-soul tune with plenty of synthy textures and punctuations, as well as a notably reverbed plucked guitar line. Speaking of reverb, the drums are given a lovely extra punch with some sort of gated reverbed effect on the kick and snare. This is the final track to include Moonchild’s Max Bryk (saxes) and Andris Mattson (trumpet) which add a brilliant extra layer to an already top-drawer album-closer, despite its questionable length.

All in all, Hive Mind is a great returning statement from the Internet. The focus on the soul sound and rejection of the hip-hop style they were first known for was a risk. Consequently, they are obviously less comfortable in this new mode, and many tracks appear rather formulaic and tiresome when listened to in the wrong context. Ego Death remains their best project yet, mostly due to standout singles like ‘Girl’ which KAYTRANADA’s superior production does wonders for. Nonetheless, it is a solid effort and worth a listen, even if only until their next record comes out.

Do the pressures of Oxford University extend even to our wardrobes?

Isabella Welch
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Do the pressures of Oxford University extend even to our wardrobes?

At times, the Oxford community can feel like a village, and it invariably influences the way we dress there in comparison to home. You can’t even walk through the quad or down the street without people you’ve known for years seeing you. Once, someone I was dating passed me on his bike while I was wearing my gym kit and I freaked out to be seen in that dilapidated, sweaty state. If you are interested in a person, it can put a HUGE amount of pressure on you to look attractive on a daily basis, wherever you go – there’s always the chance you could run into them. Or even if you aren’t trying to impress someone special, we’ve all seen posts about people dressing up in the hope of an Oxlove.

At home, the way you dress isn’t of much consequence, but I’m not sure whether that is more freeing or constricting. There isn’t anything inhibiting your self-expression, but equally that self-expression may not make much of an impact on others. At least in Oxford, if I’m going to be one of under ten women wearing bow ties to her exams, or bright red velvet suits to formals, then I might be successful in suggesting to my peers that they have full right to subvert gender expectations in this traditionalist university. Yet at the same time, I see group chats of my female friends agonising over whether a floor-length or a mid-length dress is appropriate for a certain event. It pains me a little. Formality is more in the combination of colour and pattern schemes, in whether one conveys an aura of elegance and composure with their dress, not in what society tells us is a decent quantity of ankle to display to the world. Knowing you will be seen causes some to revert to convention, not exploit that fact as a means to subvert it.

My home life is split between Bristol and Shoreditch. I’m sure there are others who come from smaller areas (or at least areas which aren’t pretentious messes of vintage clothing), who might think there is less judgement at university than at home. But I’m used to seeing queens storming home from the local drag bar or artists beneath Banksy’s paintings drinking £4 coffee in dungarees. Though I often put less effort into it, no matter what I wear at home, it never crosses my mind that the people of Bristol or London are going to judge me. Bristol has an enormous clubbing culture, and subsequently I think people put less effort into their attire, as people drunkenly falling into the river nightly is so ingrained into the Bristolian identity. However, since the Oxford clubs are not numerous and are distinct in their identities, I think their frequenters can reflect this. When people ask me why I’m in my most dire rainbow translucent bomber and sequin skirt depicting a supernova in glitter (real items, folks), I reply ‘always dress for Cellar’.

At Oxford your clothes can give you an ongoing reputation, and I don’t think that’s necessarily the worst thing in the world – you have chosen your clothes and they’re an extension of your identity. Not the worst way to be identified either – rather than more sconce-worthy events you’d really rather bury…

The microscopic Oxford lens could go either way – if you have the confidence to wear whatever you wish, I think it can really help you thrive and set an example to people that they can also express themselves. The oddities of people’s eccentric dress are one of the little quirks I love seeing in Oxford. Putting on my scarf depicting an 18th century map of London and my leggings adorned with the first folio of Hamlet makes me feel like I know who I am, and that I’m in the right place when I sit in the middle of the kaleidoscope of English students. But for those who don’t have an English student’s lack of shame or would get anxious that most definitely bumping into someone they know, Oxford’s college-based, insular circles can end up keeping people inside their shells.

My hope is that as many people as possible try to use this unique university dynamic to have their dress sense make a meaningful impact on others, rather than letting the judgement of their peers limit their expression in any way.

Oxford City Council calls on government to adopt new air pollution plan

Angus Brown
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Oxford City Council calls on government to adopt new air pollution plan

Oxford City Council has issued a statement to the Environment Secretary Michael Gove calling for a 10-point contract between the government and local authorities to help tackle air pollution in urban areas.

Under their plan more powers and funding would be provided to empower local authorities to keep levels of air pollution below the safe and legal limits.

The plan was sent to Michael Gove by Tom Hayes, Oxford Council’s Board Member for a Safer and Greener Environment, and calls for the government to;

  1. End the sale of all new polluting vehicles earlier than 2040.
  2. Install infrastructure to accelerate the uptake of electric vehicles.
  3. Revise vehicle Excise Duty to incentivise the purchase of new and second-hand zero emissions vehicles.
  4. Revise the standard driving licence to increase the maximum payload of light goods vehicles.
  5. Implement a polluting vehicles scrappage scheme.
  6. Put equity to those on low incomes at the very heart of the approach.
  7. Tighten clean air standards in line with the latest scientific evidence.
  8. Take into account Oxford’s local data for developing national air quality measures.
  9. Establish an independent watchdog to enforce air quality measures after leaving the EU.
  10. Launch a public health campaign to highlight the dangers of air pollution and the health benefits of switching to electric vehicles.

Councillor Hayes said that “There is no safe level of air pollution… [it] is an invisible killer, and we want to work with the Government to accelerate our pollution protection”, describing current levels of air pollution as “a clear health injustice” in which “the poorest in our communities… are hit hardest by toxic pollution”.

He added that “It doesn’t have to be this way. Mr Gove has the chance to put the health of towns and cities across the UK first by signing up to our 10-point contract.”

The proposals follow new data showing that air pollution in Oxford fell by 22.7% between 2016 and 2017, but that four of the city’s monitoring areas still registered toxic levels of nitrogen dioxide.

Air pollution currently plays a role in 40,000 deaths a year in the UK, and health experts have warned that there is no safe level of nitrogen dioxide.

Last year, Oxford City Council announced new proposals to introduce the world’s first Zero Emission Zone in the city centre, and has secured £3.5 million in government funding to help achieve this.

The City Council has yet to receive a response from Michael Gove or his office.

The Lieutenant of Inishmore Review – ‘Brooding, self-deluding, and very mad indeed’

Shona Galt
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The Lieutenant of Inishmore Review – ‘Brooding, self-deluding, and very mad indeed’

Having seen Tightrope Productions’ production of Martin McDonagh’s The Lieutenant of Inishmore last year at the Keble O’Reilly, I was intrigued to see a West End take on the script. Although initially sceptical that its director Michael Grandage might simply ride off McDonagh’s recent success in BAFTA-winning and Oscar-tipped Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri and the widespread popularity of lead actor Aidan Turner’s Poldark, I was quickly proven wrong. The production incited belly laughs and roaring applause from its audience throughout.

The stage is concealed by a swamp green drop, representing both the military and rural aspects of the play. It also depicts the homecoming of Irish republican terrorist “Mad Padraic” to his childhood home in the Aran Islands to confront his father and local adolescent Davey over the death of his beloved cat Wee Thomas. We’re thus visually prepared for the farcical exploration of the impact of the IRA (and, as humorously depicted in the play, its infinite array of “splinter groups”) on ordinary rural people’s lives. This green is juxtaposed by a vibrant sea-blue at the bottom, parted centrally as if to accentuate the importance of geography in this nationalist conflict.

Once opened, the curtain reveals a domestic scene, comically dated in its furnishings, and the play begins with a frustrated conversation between dimwit Davey and Padraic’s father about the death of Wee Thomas in a road accident. Davey’s much-ridiculed scraggly hair, Motorhead t-shirt and pink bicycle immediately renders him in opposition to the traditional masculinity valued by the culture of the IRA. An inevitable consequence of McDonagh’s slapstick writing, Grandage and designer Christopher Oram pay close attention to the visual in driving home the play’s key message. A crucifix and painting of Jesus on the back wall highlight the hypocrisy of republican and sectarian conflict, especially as later in the play the room becomes the focal point of gore and violence.

As the characters engage in hilariously petty conversations about Republican terrorism, considering its historic motives by asking one another “do you know how many cats Cromwell battered in his time?”, McDonagh reinforces the fruitless obsession with history that motivates Padraic’s brutality. His depiction of the paramilitary’s small-scale splinter group, formed on this tiny rural island town in Galway, conveys a futility comparable to Padraic screaming “tiocfaidh ár lá” into his pillow. His patriotic fixation extends little further than torturing a “drug pusher” (read: small-scale weed dealer for Catholic teenagers) by threatening to slice off his nipples. This slapstick humour inevitably elicits laughter, but beneath its comic appeal lies a poignant message about the political climate of McDonagh’s country of origin.

The West End budget provides for more gore than any student production can afford, so Grandage splashes out on the slapstick upon which the script depends. Splattering explosions, tense gun-pointing and dismembered corpses prompt horrified squeals from spectators. But this excessive violence forms part of its appeal. Partly for this reason, I find it disheartening to read other reviews’ half-joking complaints that Turner’s famous chest isn’t exposed despite his hypersexual onstage interactions, which boost the play’s hyperrealistic violence. It is unnecessary to imply that Turner’s sex appeal outweighs his acting skill when his depiction of Padraic is so charismatic and captivating — he’s brooding, self-deluding and very mad indeed.

Light travels through the stage’s back wall windows to mark daybreak, but alas no illumination is shed on the senselessly gruesome scene. Daylight renders the play’s events even madder, like Padraic himself. But this madness did happen – unjustifiable atrocities committed by militants on both sides during the Troubles are easily likened to the killings we witness onstage over pets and petty remarks. Padraic’s cat, made particularly profound by the use of a real animal at one point, comes to symbolise the sentimental devotion to an idealised Éire established in these militants’ youth that ultimately drives incomprehensible violence. A bold statement to make when first staged during the unrest of 2001, McDonagh’s original message is reinvigorated and reinforced by this 2018 rendition.

No-fault divorce is a human right

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No-fault divorce is a human right

With online advertising promising couples divorce settlement fees as low as £37, it may appear as though divorce has become too easy and devalued the sacrament of marriage. Yet claims that we are living in a generation of the ‘quickie divorce’, whilst seemingly true on a superficial level, are fundamentally misplaced.

The recent legal case involving Tini Owens unfounded this myth of a ‘quickie divorce’ and revealed the real truth: that under British law, divorce is the nuclear option. Tini petitioned for divorce in 2015, alleging that her husband Hugh prioritised his work over their home life and showed her little affection. She had grown apart from him, had had an affair and was no longer living with him, and so unsurprisingly she wanted a divorce. However, Hugh refused to consent to a divorce since he adamantly believed that he and his wife had a few more good years to supposedly ‘enjoy’.

The initial judgement made by the courts reeked of institutionalised patriarchy. The judge decided that Tini displayed more ‘sensitivity’ than the average wife whilst her husband was slightly too ‘old school’. Endurable marital conduct had somehow been based upon what could only have been acceptable in the 1940s. Surely there is something wrong in the fact that two men decided for Tini that her misery didn’t not meet their own archaic standard of the level of misery necessary for a divorce.

In the end, Hugh won the case in the Supreme Court on the basis that Tini had failed to establish that the marriage had broken down irretrievably. After all, as one of the judges clarified, being in ‘a wretchedly unhappy marriage’ does not constitute grounds for divorce.

And this is the very problem with British divorce laws that this case highlights. Our current system is predicated on blame, demanding proof of the unreasonable behaviour that led to the breakdown of a marriage. This means in a case like the Owens’, divorce cannot be granted until they have lived apart for an arbitrary period of five years. This legal structure is indicative of the arm of the state extending too far into the personal lives of its citizens, and worse, a legal system which disproportionately harms women.

The current ‘mend it, don’t end it’ attitude ignores the reality of marriage: that sometimes one party needs to get out, and typically it is the woman, who may feel controlled, manipulated or frightened. Our legal structure should facilitate an easy and safe departure for her; instead, the current system institutionalises marriage as a contract which works in favour of controlling women. A recent study found that US states which adopted no-fault divorce saw an 8-16% decline in wives’ suicide rates and a whopping 30% decline in domestic violence. A century after the introduction of female suffrage, the law still fails to sufficiently protect the rights of women.

No-fault divorces, backed by both Major and Blair’s governments, offer a common-sense approach which give couples real choice and the chance to part amicably. To do this is not to undermine marriage or romanticise divorce; rather, it is to recognise that marriage is first and foremost a social contract, and ought to be treated as such.

The fact that divorce has been made so difficult to attain presupposes that divorce is a situation one must avoid at all costs. Yet whilst evidence does indeed indicate that marriage can have demonstrable benefits, it would be naïve to think that these benefits are automatically conferred on couples by the mere act of walking up the aisle, rather than being a consequence of how spouses treat each other throughout the marriage.

Ultimately, the legal system doesn’t account for the fact that sometimes a marriage breaks down through no fault of one’s own. As a society, we must demand a reform of current divorce law and rid the stigma surrounding divorce. If Tini Owens (or anyone else for that matter) wants a divorce, then neither her husband nor the state have any place in subverting her wishes. Divorce must be a human right, unreservedly upheld. After all, if you don’t have the right to leave someone who is making you deeply unhappy, what value does marriage even have to begin with?

Shaking up an “Office”

Georgina MacRae Imogen Steinberg and Amber Steward
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Shaking up an “Office”

Walls, desks, computer screens, a coffee machine, and a meeting room. The office we interned at has all of these, like most offices. But it seeks to be different and to make work enjoyable. The lifestyle brand is all about its great buzzy community, from its employees, to its collaborators, clients and fans. Kim and Kanye are always watching from the centre of the room – sadly not the real deal, but they’re the office goldfish, so almost as good. They became part of the company when the office’s small meeting room reminded the team of a fishbowl. Behind them is their wall of products which started the brand. Next to that, a wall of fame, with articles about Victoria Beckham’s specially-designed notebook, featuring the faces of all the Beckham family, being covered by the Evening Standard, Hello Magazine, and the Daily Mail, among others. What else? A Wall of Shame, a Wall of Office Ideas (like making a dress for Henry Hoover), a chalk-board of witticisms, and a meme board. You name the type of board, it’s there. On most days, the meme board or chalk-board gained new things. Everyone is involved in ongoing trends and news, and the boards allow members of the team to share comments and opinions or just laugh at new features on the boards. It breaks up the day a bit more and keeps the company seeking out entertaining images.

So, with the mental image of this “office” space, and the aural image of ongoing music chosen and changed at any time by any member of the team (we had Beach Boys, Ed Sheeran and Rihanna, but also a variety of National Anthems …), what’s the effect? Well, it makes the space seem more of a background to ideas and more welcoming of innovative thinking – and of laughter – than other work spaces. Two other great ways the office is made into a lively space are, firstly, that all of the team (it’s a small but growing one), are facing one another on the same table. It makes conversations and idea-throwing much easier, and encompasses multiple people in any entertaining conversation. Secondly, the bell and tambourine, which is welcome to anyone to mark any announcements, group-queries, or achievements with noise. They help make announcements lively and they’re a great mark of celebrating the brand’s achievements and growth.

All of these office-features can be easily taken into any space, which is good because the company is growing quickly.  But it’ll still be the fun brand that holds its values and its non-traditional office-life quirks regardless of size. There’s a common misconception that after graduating everyone ‘sells their soul’ to become a small cog in some giant corporate machine, but places like this prove that that is by no means the case. Sure, you get the busy London Tube in the morning with everyone else, but that’s where the similarities stop. The intimate and openly fun atmosphere at the office means that not only does being at work never feel like a drag, but you really feel like you are a part of the business as a whole. Every aspect of the business is worked on around the same group of tables – some people are working on product sourcing, some on design, others on celebrity gifting, and others on sales to companies such as ASOS and Urban Outfitters – and this means that whatever your individual role you quickly get a feel for all the functions of the business, and can see first-hand how your contribution develops within the process.

An office like this shows how fun can thrive alongside cohesion and efficiency, and is a really rewarding environment in which to work. The office mood board, music, and shared desk-space details help shape everyone’s work life into a cool, slightly unusual shape – an irregular polygon of the working world. The encouraged laughter and Love Island gossiping (they sell a Do-Bits-Society mug!) make this workspace a space of amusement, too. Plus #throwbackthursday is given the best type of reality, as a post-work office drinking sesh.  Working didn’t seem much like work when we were part of a community enjoying themselves, creating products for others to enjoy. With their stationery being made in the UK, the happy vibe of the products can be traced from when they’re designed to when they’re delivered and received!

 

‘I have only ever tried to show you beauty’: Florence Welch’s ‘Useless Magic’

Kate Haselden
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‘I have only ever tried to show you beauty’: Florence Welch’s ‘Useless Magic’

Loyal followers of Florence Welch have long been aware of her creative ability extending beyond song writing. The ethereal Alice-rebels-in-wonderland visuals created for ‘Rabbit Heart’ (2009) and the chaptered ‘Odyssey’ which tells individual songs including ‘Delilah’ and ‘What Kind of Man’ (2015) have long evidenced her outstanding abilities as not only a singer, but as an artist. When ‘Useless Magic’ was announced, we were told to expect an assemblage of her lyrics and poetry. Through the addition of visual elements, the anthology encapsulates both her well-known lyrics and private scribblings, allowing an illumination into the mind behind ‘Lungs’, ‘Ceremonials’, ‘How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful’ and her newly-released poetry.

The preface immediately binds together Welch’s handwritten admissions and her printed words, a relationship which continues throughout the collection. The scanned page upon opening reads “I make songs to tie people to me” – we are immediately aware that, for Welch, writing is a call for others to remain. Telling us that songs speak to her, arise only through her as medium, she says “I am a conduit but totally oblivious to its wisdom”. Her lyrics and poetry, which she believes are no longer separated but have “started to bleed into each other”, flow through her voice and pen.

Separated into chapters according to album, the collection spans the progression of Welch’s song writing. Throughout ‘Lungs’, a breath of wind passes through pages resembling trees, lyrics tell of dreaming and beating bird wings, intertwined with William Morris prints torn away to reveal her handwriting. Flowers establish dominion, the chapter being filled with their different forms, notably an illustration by Welch of sharp-edged flowers with jagged leaves and the words “I don’t want anything now or ever again”, presented next to the lyrics for ‘My Boy Builds Coffins’, a song expressing the beauty and unique form each individual’s death will take. Beginning in this chapter, and continuing throughout, are individual entries by Welch expressing feelings, fears, conversations with an unknown auditor. One entry, “‘I love you’, she said/ he replied ‘that’s a shame’” seems to encapsulate a feeling of haunting unrequitedness, surrounded by sprawling biro lilies and twice drawn circles. ‘Lungs’ becomes frequented by John William Waterhouse, including his ‘Lady of Shallot’ and ‘Ophelia’. Depicting flame-haired women surrounded by branches above a body of water, they reflect both the muse-like stature of Florence herself and her preoccupation with water imagery which prevails throughout every album.

Visuals take on their own role in expressing the meaning of the collection. Paintings by various artists shed light on meaning of individual songs – featured artists in ‘Ceremonials’ include Gustav Klimt, Tamara De Lempika and Botticelli. Klimt’s Water Serpents I falls next to the final page of ‘Heartlines’ wherein an image of two golden heads, held together in an ecstasy of falling vines and pale closed eyelids, seem to reflect Welch’s adjoining lyric “But know, in some way, I’m there with you”. A continuous thread, both in ‘Ceremonials’ and the rest of the collection, is the presence of religious, particularly Catholic, iconography. ‘The Virgin Adoring the Sleeping Christ Child’ by Botticelli and Delacroix’s ‘The Virgin of the Sacred Heart’ allow a tone of divinity to reign ever-present, fitting for an album and a woman constantly wrestling with such themes as violence, love and death. For Welch, Catholic symbolism hurtles into 21st century concerns of missed phone calls and lies told by Hollywood.

Through the addition of her own sketches and notes, the collection begins to transition so softly into her own poetry that the final section is a natural progression. Welch’s poetry was first released in Chapters 5 and 6 of ‘The Odyssey’ as an auditory transition between two songs. Included in the original form – handwritten on Chateau Marmont stationary – we are reminded that Florence’s poetry is her own, personal and confessional and full of desire for the transcendental. One poem murmurs of a desired metamorphosis into another body, to be “out of your own and consumed by another”. Each line falls like a passage of water, slipping like channels which echo of salt and thirst and loss to sea.

Her poetry is ceremonious in its simplicity. ‘I Cannot Write About This’ exorcises a “wordless thing” which is “altogether/ Too Grown Up/ Too Sad/ Too ‘the best for us both’/ To put into poetry”. She expresses an almost child-like fear of something too far grown, too steeped in reality to cope with. There is a recurring presence of the spectral, and a recognition that we are susceptible to becoming so, with ‘I Guess I Won’t Write Poetry’ describing how “Being ‘Famous’/ Is like being an anxious ghost”, for “You are an apparition/ A figment of your own imagination”. Welch takes the boundary of the real and ethereal, the human and preternatural and plays it like a harp string. This boundary oscillates in the reality of the city in ‘Wedding’, opening through the stanza “London is a graveyard of ex-boyfriends/ family trauma/ and scenes that smashed themselves to pieces”. There is an almost Eliot-like perception of London; it becomes a hell-scape, a city of daylight ghosts and fallen ruins of memory. The collection is a beautiful, more-than-human hybrid of private musings and universal experiences. What emerges is a beautiful, multi-media tapestry of the mind behind one of music’s most unique voices.

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