The Oundelian

THE OUNDELIAN 2024

Charlotte Sullivan (Sr 5)

FROM THE EDITOR

Fireworks! Please ‘Ooh!’ and ‘Ahh!’ at this edition of The Oundelian

This year’s magazine, out early so that the Fifth Form and Upper Sixth can pick up their (souvenir) copies before heading off on Study Leave, is made up of the usual mix of articles about School life, academic matters and subjects from the wider world that fired the interest of our writers.

This year, it has not, however, been produced entirely by a dedicated team of scribblers and editors, meeting on Wednesday afternoons.

For a variety of reasons, this year’s Oundelian team was so small, with only two in attendance in the Michaelmas Term (Nathan and Ed) and two more joining after February Half Term (Sophia and Chelsie), that I had to rethink my approach. I thought I could bank on around eight articles from the team members, which meant that somehow, I needed to find an additional twenty or so. I scoured the School Calendar, made announcements at Common Room meetings, conferred with fellow English teachers and sent out multitudes of emails to pupils I knew of, or who had been recommended to me as ‘good writers’, asking them to write me pieces about various events taking place in the School, or about anything in the world that whetted their creative appetites.

Some replied; some didn’t. Some ran with my requests; others ran away from them. Promises were made and broken (no hard feelings) but in the end, the writing flooded in and I hope you will agree that its quality is testament to some of the very fine writers and interesting thinkers in the current pupil body.

Some articles here are thought-provoking reads about important issues in our society, such as introversion or the diminishment of Arts and Humanities funding in education and in our culture as a whole; others are philosophical pieces about the nature of truth, ‘the eternal recurrence’ or how we deal with failure; while still others are entertaining and vivid reports about School trips, concerts and activities, such as OSCAR and Debating. In all of them, I have tried to encourage a personal voice and an original ‘take’ on their subject matter and the pupils delivered exactly this.

I don’t yet know what next year’s Oundelian will look like, though there are some potentially exciting plans afoot. However, what I can say with confidence is that with such a diverse, thoughtful and talented pool of writers from which to draw, it will continue to be a publication to challenge and entertain us, and to make the Oundle community proud.

With thanks to the tiny but dedicated Oundelian team and as always, to Rachel Makhzangi and her team.

Dr Sophie Raudnitz

Cover image by Johanna Hindmarsh (Sr 4)

THE OUNDELIAN TEAM 2023-24

Edward Barlow (B L6)

Chelsie Chen (D U6)

Nathan Raudnitz (Sr U6)

Sophia Zou (W U6)

WITH ADDITIONAL CONTRIBUTIONS FROM WITH THANKS TO

Ruby Allenby (K 5)

Tsz Ching Cheung (L U6)

Charlotte Crawley (L 4)

Ethan Daugherty (Ldr U6)

William Davidson (Sr 5)

Teddy Flanagan (N L6)

Faisal Folarin (StA 5)

Madeleine Fremantle (By 2)

Emilia Giacco (L U6)

Tess Gillis (L L6)

India Jubb (N U6)

Nellie Kamau (K L6)

Cecilia Kilpatrick (N U6)

Nancy Newcombe (W U6)

Jonathan Ogunmwonyi (By 1)

Isabel Puthucheary (Sco 1)

Mig Raudnitz (Sr 4)

Alexander Rendell (Ldr 3)

Sophie Watts (Sn L6)

Unless otherwise credited, all photographs are by Ivan Quetglas, School Photographer

Sophie Raudnitz, Leigh Giurlando, Rachel Makhzangi and Matt Tarrant, SMC Creative.

SCHOOL LIFE

Maximising the Oundle experience

By India Jubb (N U6)

For me, U6 was a year of lasts: last play, last gig, last OSCAR broadcast, last CCF session, last debate and so many more. It was a sad time for me because I was saying goodbye to places and events that had been a part of me for the last seven years.

Ever since I joined Oundle in First Form, I knew that I wanted to take full advantage of the opportunities that it could give me, with all the extra-curricular activities available. I can proudly sit here in my armchair writing this article and say that I did that, and that it was the best decision that 11-year-old me could have made.

I’ve done 15 plays, 14 radio broadcasts in various roles, and countless concerts with the School. Of course, there have been ups and downs, as there are with everything good in life, but my experiences have taught

me so many valuable skills. Organisation, prioritisation and leadership are all things that I know will stand me in good stead wherever I end up going in the future.

I am not an anomaly. Even though I took my involvement in extra-curricular activities to the ultimate extreme, I cannot take credit for the notion of being busy in Oundle bringing satisfaction. Ask any experienced tutor, HSM or teacher and they will all be able to tell you about their pupils who were determined to do everything possible. This School is founded around being busy and getting used to managing time and different responsibilities. Of course, it can be a steep learning curve (one on which I have been at all points) but that is one of the many benefits. Because Oundle offers so many activities, there is a lot of support for getting involved. Tutors are always on hand

experience before and this wisdom is invaluable when they can talk to others and get you the support you need to achieve everything you want to.

I think this Oundelian attitude of keeping busy and getting involved was perfectly summed up by my GCSE Physics teacher. We were sitting in his classroom during the last lesson of the term before the holidays and the class was talking about general life in Oundle, and he said something which has stuck with me ever since: ‘Ten years after you leave, you’ll be talking together about Oundle and you might not necessarily remember the content of your lessons, but you will remember the experiences you had and the people you met.’

For me this is one of many things that have shaped my mindset about education. I love learning and I have loved this School and I think I will be forever glad that I

“I’ve met so many amazing people, had wonderful experiences and grown so much as a person.”

managed to balance both sides of the coin. I’m walking into my last term of Oundle with good predicted grades, offers from universities that excite me, and many, many memories to carry with me when my A levels have passed.

I’m not trying to say that extra-curricular activities are the only important part of an Oundle life. To be able to take full advantage of them, one must have a solid academic basis and be willing to put in the effort. Academic study takes priority and I’ve definitely had moments where it doesn’t all work together, but I am living proof for both the parents and the pupils reading this that it is possible to get totally and completely involved while also maintaining good grades and keeping up with work.

difficult to manage my work around this and I would have asked teachers for extensions. This year, I knew that I had to use my PRs productively to juggle everything and I am very proud to say that I did the entire play week without a single late prep. For me, this is true proof that getting involved gives valuable skills and that it is possible to do A levels and have fun.

There is one further myth that I would like to dispel in this article: the idea that at Sixth Form, the workload increases so much that extra-curricular involvement is not possible as much as it was at GCSE. I would argue the total opposite.

workload increase, especially in Upper Sixth, but it is both important to maintain the balance and to realise that PRs are gifts when it comes to work management. There have been many times since the beginning of Sixth Form when I’ve been so glad that I have PRs because it means that I have that little extra time to get my work done.

I was Deputy Stage Manager for Chicago this September, and this meant that I was at the theatre from 5-10pm every evening for over a week. In the past it would have been

Finally, I would like to reflect a little bit on the last seven years. I arrived with stars in my eyes and a dream that seemed irrational at the time, to take all possible opportunities and make the most of this School. I can proudly say that I achieved this; the walls of my room at university will be full of photographs of my friends from these events and I will have many stories to tell about how much I genuinely loved my school experience, through the ups and the downs.

I will forever be grateful to my parents and teachers for letting me take all the opportunities I wanted and for supporting me with the academic side. I’ve met so many amazing people, had wonderful experiences and grown so much as a person. While I will miss this School and the opportunities it has given me, I am so grateful for those “lasts” and to have something to miss now that I am moving on.

Amajor event in the Debating Society calendar is the ESU (English Speaking Union) Mace Debating competition, an inter-school, national competition spread across the School year. Comprising of a series of debates, each with a few weeks of preparation time, they follow a three versus three format. The first and second speakers are allotted seven minutes each, while the third speaker is given five minutes.

The team, consisting of George Fothergill, Iona Morgan, and myself (special mention to Paul Schmidt for taking Iona’s place in round one) found success in the first round, but we knew that it would be a continuous upward battle from there. In our secondround debate, we opposed the motion ‘This House would abolish the House of Lords’ against Stamford School, a formidable team, and it stands out as a particularly challenging and rewarding experience.

When preparing for any debate, the best strategy is to first determine what your opponents will argue, before constructing your own case. Our approach to this debate was no different, however, the job was more difficult than usual.

Firstly, the type of motion in this debate meant we had to spend longer

pre-empting Stamford’s arguments. A ‘would’ motion differs from a ‘believes’ or ‘regrets’ debate as it requires a specific action plan (a mechanism) detailing exactly how the House of Lords would be abolished. As the Proposition puts this forward, we had the tough task of both predicting their mechanism and creating a counter-mechanism. Fitting in our arguments proved difficult because of this.

If Stamford’s mechanism centred on an elected upper chamber, a hybrid chamber or even a unicameral legislature, we would have to adjust our arguments to fit with their mechanism, effectively warranting an on-the-spot rewrite of our speeches, dependent on their argument.

We decided to focus our countermechanism on House of Lords reform, recognising that whilst the House of Lords does have flaws, these do not warrant its abolishment. This helped to create a

reasonable middle ground from which we could feel stable arguing. Secondly, we had to determine what exactly ‘abolish’ would mean for the Proposition. As we (the Opposition) do not define the motion, we would have to accept Stamford’s definitions, and our arguments could have been hamstrung by their choice of wording.

Dealing with hypothetical ‘ifs’ and ‘maybes’ for most of our preparation, and creating several different versions of our speeches, were significant obstacles that required heavy research and planning to overcome. Luckily for us, unlike Parliamentary debating, Mace demands deep preparation, and the longer time frame gave us breathing room to dive into research papers, articles, podcasts, and letters from across the political spectrum. When debating a current topic this variety of sources becomes particularly important. Slowly, we began to find the best possible

This House would abolish the House of Lords

By Ethan Daugherty (Ldr U6)

“WE FEEL READY, AND HOPE TO GO BEYOND THE REGIONAL FINALS, WHERE NO OUNDLE DEBATING TEAM HAS GONE BEFORE…”

statistics and arguments to strike down the Proposition’s points and enhanced the quality of our own with strong supporting examples.

As our research progressed, a clear structure and a line of the argument centred around expertise, scrutiny of the government and feasibility, gradually took shape. For all the Mace debates, we hold preparation sessions in Old Dryden and discuss potential points to see if they stick. These are usually coupled with plenty of grumbling about unfair motions and occasionally perhaps just a touch of caffeine-induced hysteria. These evenings in Old Dryden with George, Iona, other Debating Society members and the everinsightful and seemingly tireless Mrs Gould, are an invaluable step in the process before the debate itself.

This round was in person, an ‘away fixture’, and our toughest so far. After watching two fine debates, it was our turn. Despite all our preparation, we were caught slightly by surprise, as our opponents argued for a unicameral legislature instead of replacing the Upper House, which we had determined to be the least likely mechanism. Still, we stuck to the plan, adjusted our arguments and, crucially,

demonstrated that the current UK electoral system (First Past the Post) would cause a variety of problems under Stamford’s proposed new system. Our research efforts and lengthy prep sessions were put to effective use; we used our excess varied material dynamically throughout the debate in the form of rebuttals and of asking and answering points of information, which the adjudicators noted were a strength of our team. A good example of this would be one Point of Information we raised, which highlighted that current diversity

issues facing the House of Commons could be heightened with a larger single house, disputing Stamford’s argument that a unicameral system would lead to increased diversity, both descriptively and politically, as the appointed nature of the Lords, which in many cases guarantees greater diversity of people and thought, would be lost under the Proposition mechanism.

After a fiery at times (as good debates often are) debate with several interesting audience questions, we were reconvened to find out which teams had progressed to the next round. We had made it to the regional finals! And so, deservingly, did our opponents, as the ESU Mace scoring system takes the best-performing teams from the round as a whole, not just the winning team from each debate, and as we also do not get told the winning teams of the individual debates, there was no clear victor. But, whilst we may not know who won, the preparation, time, and effort we put in as a team, paid off. As always, the support from the rest of the Debating Society helped to lift us, and having the Junior debaters pick apart our final speeches was both humbling and incredibly useful.

Overall, this debate was an immensely challenging and rewarding experience. The same goes for debating in general; the skills you pick up, the friends you make and the people you meet will (at least for me) last long after Oundle. In short, join the Debating Society!

Whilst there will be more challenges to come, we feel ready, and hope to go beyond the regional finals, where no Oundle debating team has gone before…

I’ll see you on the Dark Side of the Moon

By Mig Raudnitz (Sr 4)

February 17 1972 – Dark Side of the Moon: A piece for Assorted Lunatics was first performed by Pink Floyd for a press audience at the Rainbow Theatre in Finsbury Park.

31 May 1972 – Recording sessions at EMI (now Abbey Road) Studios commenced.

27 February 1973 – The now completed album, Dark Side of the Moon was played to the press at the London Planetarium in anticipation of its UK release on 1 March that year.

Some point in the summer term of 2023 – A group of Oundle’s finest rock musicians (and myself) embark on an epic journey to pay homage to Floyd’s 50-year-old masterpiece.

In March 2023 my brother (the famous Nathan Raudnitz) came home with some exciting news: he would be playing guitar and singing in a School performance of Pink Floyd’s iconic Dark Side of the Moon LP in

September.

Dark Side of the Moon is widely appreciated as a perfect album. It consists of ten songs, perfectly linked together and each perfect in its own right, exploring themes of isolation, insanity, freedom, religion, and mortality. With side one opening with distant noises foreshadowing the movements of the album, it explodes gracefully into Breathe, a shorter reflective song acting as something of an overture to the LP before vanishing away into the sci-fi audio-explorations of On the Run. Then comes Time, a song that communicates the monotony of one’s short tenure on Earth that (following an epic guitar solo) winds its way to a reprise of Breathe, which eventually grinds down into The Great Gig in The Sky, the religious centre of the album. Side two features Money, the hit single of the album, exploring the theme of greed, and famed for its bassline in the 7/4

time signature; Us and Them, the moment of calm in the midst of busy modern life; Any Colour You Like, a futuristic yet bluesy collage of guitars, synthesizers and tapeecho effects over the chords of Breathe; and the climactic ending of Brain Damage and Eclipse, two songs exploring Floyd’s unresolved sadness following the LSD and schizophrenia induced departure of the band’s founding guitarist, Syd Barrett. The album ends on a paradoxically sad but emotionally uplifting sustained chord on the Hammond organ fading away into a heartbeat. It has been certified platinum fifteen times and is the third best-selling album of all time.

Now that you’re caught up on the facts, I can continue with the story! Obviously, I have always loved this album with all my heart. Hopefully less obviously, I’m also the kind of person who lives in constant fear of missing out. For these reasons, it

was inevitable that I would request that Nathan put a good word in for me with Mr MacDonald, the brains behind the show. Thankfully for me, Mr MacDonald didn’t have anyone in mind for keys at the time, so I managed to claim that position for myself.

By June, Mr MacDonald had cast a sixpiece band comprised of:

• Nathan Raudnitz – guitar, vocals

• Luke Empson – bass guitar, backing vocals, master of ceremonies (Irish), luscious gold locks

• Angus Insch – guitar (slide, standard and lunar), backing vocals

• Krishna Lakkappa – drums, groovy vibes

• Cici Yu – colossal vocals in The Great Gig in the Sky, backing vocals

• Myself (Mig Raudnitz) – keyboards (Hammond organ, synthesizers etc), vocals.

By this time, we were ready and raring to perform to the masses. There were only three drawbacks: we hadn’t played together before, nor had we learned how to play the majority of the album. There was also the small matter of the approaching long summer holiday. As the term came to a close, all six of us had been in the same room only once.

So it was that this initial ‘get to know each other’ phase was followed by nine weeks of studious analysis into the depths of Pink Floyd’s best (or second best, though I won’t go into that) album over the summer and we gathered in September to rehearse. It was immediately obvious that we hadn’t been studious enough. In an attempt to remedy this, we had rehearsals with Mr MacDonald as often as we could over the next week before our first performance in the New House Garden on 10 September. This gig was met by some severe misfortune. We set our equipment up under a small gazebo next to the football goals. Thunder. We discussed: “Was that

“We were ready for the high point of our world tour of Oundle: the Stahl Theatre.”

thunder?” Yes, it was.

What followed was a thunderstorm of what felt like biblical proportions. We set out to transport all of our gear to safety and unfortunately, we had rather a lot of it. With four amplifiers, three guitars, a bass guitar, a PA system, two analogue synthesizers, a digital Hammond organ emulation, four microphones, a drum kit and three pedal boards, this mission felt equivalent to moving Wembley stadium out of London (no small feat when shoeless like Nathan, Luke and I). Eventually, we set up in the shelter of the concrete area at the back of the house. Sadly, there were equipment casualties, but we soldiered on and performed our set, despite never having played the album in its entirety before then. Cues were missed, guitar strings were broken, back-up guitars were employed, and lyrics were forgotten. I’ve been told the performance wasn’t as bad I thought, but I still cringe re-living that damp afternoon. More practice was needed.

In the six days approaching our next show at The Ship Inn, we worked tirelessly to reach our goal of doing the album justice. This performance is far less painful to remember. For the most part, we all knew what was going on and we were received very positively by the audience of friends and pub goers (I like to think so, anyway). We were ready for the high point of our world tour of Oundle: the Stahl Theatre.

The plan was to do two performances of the Dark Side of the Moon (an early

one and another, later) topped off with two outro jams introducing each member of the band with an improvised solo. These performances would take place on the evening of Friday 29 September. Mr MacDonald did an incredible job taking the evening from a gig night to a happening which would attract any passers-by to attend, with psychedelic, revolving images cast onto the front of the Stahl from a projector in the window opposite. The lobby was equally immersive with the sounds of the album flooding through the speaker system from all corners of the room.

Both performances were successful, musically and visually, as we utilized the new space of the theatre with amazing lighting by India Jubb; Luke running circles around the audience and backstage during the hectic On the Run; Cici appearing spotlit to the right of the audience for her momentous vocal solo in The Great Gig in the Sky; and an enormous full moon displayed behind the band during the anthemic peaks of the closing songs Brain Damage and Eclipse. Performing that album with those people at that time is an experience I am unlikely to forget any time soon.

It had always been an aspiration of mine to get a band together to play through one of the many classic albums of the early ‘70s. I’ve dreamed of finding a group of likeminded people who could unite in performing something large scale such as Led Zeppelin’s Houses of the Holy, Yes’s Close to the Edge or Floyd’s Dark Side, so it is an amazing feeling to know that not only is that possible, but I have done it. I feel honoured to have been part of a band of such good musicians and to have put on one of the only pupil rock gigs, aside from the annual Reloaded concerts, in the last decade.

Although we don’t speak often, I feel a strong connection with my bandmates when we pass in School, knowing that we were part of something that felt so momentous. I’m sure I can speak for the rest of the band when thanking Mr MacDonald for not only conceiving the idea but making it possible and making it good. It will be one of the highlights, if not the highlight, of my time at Oundle.

My Tutor: A Common Room survivor

By Edward Barlow (B L6)

While looking through an old copy of The Oundelian, desperately hoping to be inspired by some new article idea, I came across the 1990 edition of the teachers Common Room photograph and was able to identifymy tutor, Mr Ireson, despite the rather odd addition of a full head of hair, Mr Turner and Mr Burrows. There have been very few Oundle ‘survivors’ quite on the level of the enduring Mr Ireson, who appears in whole School photos dating back to the 1980s (which, I was surprised to discover, were not in black and white). This endurance gives Mr Ireson an extensive knowledge concerning the continuing and changing aspects of the School, such as the gradual shift to the adoption of technology, the change to co-ed, and the changes that occurred due to the four Heads that he has seen come and go.

Through his work in the Mathematics department as well as a stint as Head of Economics, Mr Ireson can be said to have contributed hugely to the running of the School while also tolerating the stress that goes hand-in-hand with a teaching job, a truth that shows in the substantial loss of hair seen through the evolution of the whole School photo, of which he has been in eleven. He has also been known by successive years of Third Formers in his capacity as Head of Exams as ‘the Scary Exam Man,’ although this image is quickly dispelled after hearing one of his signature pre-exam ‘jokes’. The introduction of girls to the previously all boys’ school is probably the most significant alteration that has occurred in Mr Ireson’s time at Oundle. He recalled the initial sad departure of boys from Dryden House, finishing their stint in Dryden with an emotional rendition of ABBA’s Departure during the house singing competition,

as well as the whole of Dryden House attending assembly wearing culottes in protest at the change. Nevertheless, the shift to co-ed in the 1990s and early 2000s can be safely considered an extremely successful change, which has contributed in no small measure to the current reputation of the School as a leading UK boarding school.

Focusing on the changes of Heads that have occurred throughout Mr. Ireson’s tenure and the effect of these changes on the School, he drew attention to the influence of Dr Townsend, whose aim to make Oundle the ‘Eton of the Midlands,’ as well as aiming to ‘celebrate music more, and rugby less,’ led to considerable changes relating to the balance between the academic and sporting elements of the

“The introduction of girls to the previously all boys' school is probably the most significant alteration that has occurred in Mr Ireson's time at Oundle.”

School. By maintaining the latter (more or less) and augmenting the former over successive years, the School has been able to enhance its academic aspects, although Mr Ireson still fondly reminisces about the ‘warm-up game’ against Bedford, which has since turned into a fiercely competitive encounter.

Aside from the introduction of girls, possibly the most significant and noticeable change that has occurred during Mr Ireson’s tenure can be said to be the advance of technology, turning previously laborious tasks, such as photocopying, into trivialities or anachronisms. This process was considerably accelerated by the onset of the coronavirus pandemic, leading to the introduction of Microsoft Teams and the innovative assignment system currently used.

Other recently retired teachers who have previously been considered ‘survivors’ include Mr Hammond, the iconically furious but fair Proctor, and Mr Wood, whose passion for nature and bird watching provided his classes with many a good opportunity to divert the subject away from English. Mr Burrows, another Oundle legend, completes his 108th Oundle term this June, marking an impressive thirty-six years at Oundle. Many retirees are still involved in the life of the School, including driving minibuses for Community Action and being involved in School tours. Meanwhile teachers, such as Mr Clark, continue to push on through life at Oundle to one day earn the accolade of ‘survivor,’ one for which all teachers, quite understandably, clamour.

Copyright: Richard Snart Photography, originally published in The Laxtonian, 1990

Supporting mental health charities

By Emilia Giacco (L U6), PPF Ambassador for Mental Health

On Saturday 9 September, the Inaugural Sixth Form Ball took place. With our summer tans holding firm and a ‘Black Tie with lots of colour’ dress code, it was a vibrant, giddy evening that kicked off the academic year with a buzz. The meal was interspersed with table games to get to know your neighbours, which we thoroughly enjoyed. After plenty of laughter, the effervescent Jenny Lin sang for us during dessert, making a sweet end to the evening even sweeter. Together, we raised over £1000 for two mental health charities, Young Minds and Beat Eating Disorders. The money we raised will go towards supporting young people in the UK who are struggling with their mental health, as well as helping their parents understand what is

going on in their minds. The ball also served as a gentle reminder to all those attending to check in on themselves and their friends. A big thank you to Mrs Lowndes (my email pen-pal for the four months leading up to the event) and the teaching staff who supervised the event.

In honour of Men’s Mental Health month in November, Jasi Withers (L6) and I worked with Miss Harrington (Head of Learning for Life) and Natalie Jarvis (Mental Health Lead) to put together a workshop for Sixth Form boys. Led by a group of male teaching staff equipped with pizza, the evening allowed for a casual dialogue between pupils and adults, facilitating conversations about the men’s mental health crisis in the UK and how to ask for that allimportant support, even when the problem seems trivial. Following positive feedback from those who attended, we very much hope that the event will be repeated next year.

We cannot prevent all mental health problems from occurring, but we can better understand them with frequent, open chats.

“TOGETHER, WE RAISED OVER £1000 FOR TWO MENTAL HEALTH CHARITIES, YOUNG MINDS AND BEAT EATING DISORDERS.”

An evening with Priscilla Morris

By Ruby Allenby (K 5)

On 12 October 2023, the Clare Society hosted A Conversation with Priscilla Morris in the Arthur Marshall Room, via the magic of Zoom.

Priscilla Morris is a teacher of creative writing at the University College of Dublin and author of a debut novel, Black Butterflies. The critically acclaimed book holds eight awards and nominations including the Women’s Prize for Fiction 2023 shortlist. This evocative tale follows Zora, an artist and teacher in Sarajevo, during a period of uncertainty and devastation, spring 1992. When her husband and elderly mother are sent back to England, to safety, she is left behind as the city falls under siege. Whilst reluctant to believe that the duration of hostilities will be more than a month or so, she gradually comes to terms with the destruction of everything she has come to love about her home. Zora and her community are forced to rebuild themselves repeatedly, as an example of astonishing catastrophe, resilience, and faith.

Priscilla described to us what encouraged her to explore the ruinous Yugoslav Wars: ‘I used to go there every summer as a child to visit my grandpa,’ she remarked. ‘It was always famous for people living side by side very happily... but suddenly overnight, you didn’t know if your neighbour or your friend would turn against you.’ Initially, ‘the real story that inspired Black Butterflies, was the story of my great uncle who was a landscape painter.’ Priscilla’s great uncle stored his art in the ‘iconic building… [of] the National Library.’ Tragically, ‘in August 1992, this building was shelled… [and] over 300 paintings were left to die. He described it as a death.’

I personally found that the most seminal image that she described was the story of her great uncle’s reconciliation after his grieving period. When ‘he started to reconnect with nature and started to paint again… he described this as a kind of magical moment of reconnection, of renewal.’ For Priscilla, ‘it was a story of hope, of art overcoming the tragedy of war.’ What struck her the most about her experience with the war at the time was

that ‘there was this sense of people not really understanding why it was happening. This great sense of confusion, and more and more refugee relatives passed through our London home. There was a lot of emotion, a lot of anger, a lot of shock, but very little understanding.’

After an incredibly interesting discussion about her book, and her narration of two extracts (including the powerful scene where Zora grasps the horrible reality that all of her art had been destroyed in an instant), we commenced a Questionand-Answer session. Curious pupils were invited to pose any question they had about the world of literature, which allowed us to delve much deeper into matters ranging from the hardships and wonders of the writing process, to the very real and disastrous consequences of war.

The Q&A session invoked some memories of Priscilla’s writing process. She described it as ‘five months of field research in Sarajevo and just digesting and being weighed down

by all these war stories, and feeling quite depressed and not knowing what to do with them. It took quite a long time before [she] could turn them into fiction.’

Priscilla’s advice encompassed how to cope in a war-torn community. The question I asked, ‘What advice would you give to a person in a war-torn country?’ was far too vast to be answered in a few minutes. So, Priscilla got back to me later on, replying, ‘I don’t think there’s any one-size-fits-all advice to give on what to do if there’s a war because the circumstances of each war are different and so are the personal circumstances of those affected. So, depending on what you can do, I would say leave if you can, protect yourself and those around you, protect yourself from succumbing to hatred and violence and be healthily sceptical of news stories and propaganda. Be kind, help people and do not close your heart to anyone, remembering that we are all the same underneath and all connected to one another.’

The evening ended on a poignant note, after being taken through an enriching journey of optimism in the face of hardship. She encouraged us all to use literature as a means of more than just indulgence. I am so grateful to have listened to Priscilla in an event I will never forget, and I look forward to the potential release of her next novel.

“It was a story of hope, of art overcoming the tragedy of war.”

Identity Unveiled: Black History Month celebration through the lens of Oundle pupils

By Nellie Kamau (K L6)

In the field of education, the arts have an ability to shine a light on and celebrate culture. This was especially evident during the Oundle Black History Month celebration, where a show at the Stahl, entitled Identity, took centre stage.

Through a captivating combination of singing and acting, the evening served not just as entertainment but also as a profound exploration of identity and heritage. It beautifully showcased the tapestry of our history. The performances, featuring black pupils, but also others of Asian and Scottish origins, were truly impactful and the evening demonstrated the importance of representation and cultural recognition. Identity emerged as a collaborative effort among pupils and teachers at Oundle, led by our Head of School, Mirabel Agyemang. She was inspired by a Second Former who approached her in her L6 year asking: ‘As the PPF Ambassador for Racial Diversity and Inclusion, what are you planning on doing to celebrate Black History Month?’

Mirabel’s response to this, organising Identity, proved to be the best decision as it honoured the heritage of different cultures and in doing so, touched the hearts of many in the School who came to watch. The

central theme revolved around exploring and affirming individual and collective identities within the context of black history, through songs such as Stand Up by Cynthia Erivo, Peng Black Girls by ENNY feat. Jorja Smith and Lift Me Up by Rihanna.

The decision to have pupils actively involved in scripting, directing, and performing in the show and organising their different songs, went beyond the mere act of representation; it was a deliberate effort to provide a platform for authentic expression. For example, Hana Owen, Amelia Crewe, and Lauren Nichols recited a powerful poem about the experience of being mixed race, and Rory MacPhee gave a passionate tribute to Scotland. Mirabel’s overall message was one of inclusion.

Music played a pivotal role in Identity, weaving through the narrative as a cultural thread connecting the past and the present. Traditional African rhythms combined with

the concerns of middle age and Judaism in You Can Call Me Al by Paul Simon, performed by the Raudnitzes, and a blend of compositions came together to form a voyage that reflected the various facets of this community. The freedom pupils were given to be able to compose or choose their own song underscored the emotional depth of the narratives being explored.

A short play, called Young Ruby, performed by a group of Berrysteaders, re-enacted a significant part of the life of Ruby Bridges. Ruby is an African American woman known for being the first black child to attend an all-white elementary school in the southern United States, symbolizing the struggle for racial integration in the 1960s. Despite facing adversity and discrimination, Ruby’s bravery and perseverance made a significant impact on the American civil rights movement and today she continues to advocate for racial equality and educational opportunities. This performance showed the maturity and sensitivity of these Berrysteaders, who included Jesse Chingang, Jonathan Ogunmwonyi, Camille Ho, Hetty Ellis, Elodie Thomas, Debbie Ogundapo and Ethan Hunponu-Wusu. It was incredibly inspiring to see them perform and tackle such an important part of black history, and do it wonderfully.

Black History Month is a special occasion where we come together to recognise, honour and gain knowledge about the remarkable contributions made by black individuals throughout history. The production of Identity went beyond mere recognition; it emphasised courageously that the history of our heritage and race is not a single narrative, but rather a rich tapestry of diverse stories and experiences. For the pupils who participated in the evening, witnessing their peers on stage sharing stories that resonated deeply with their own experiences, it was more than just representation; it was an empowering affirmation of identity and a joyful celebration of their cultural heritage.

The journey of Identity is a continuous one. The final act of the evening had a profound impact on the pupils, the School and the community as the curtain descended. From a show, it turned into an art medium that proved the significant effect of the arts in exploring identity and heritage. The resonance of Identity spread beyond the stage to indicate that self-discovery and cultural appreciation is a journey with no end; rather, it is the life one leads by engaging in an inclusive educational environment.

“A PROFOUND EXPLORATION OF IDENTITY AND HERITAGE”

While focused on marking Black History Month, Identity strove to replace cultural blind spots with higher levels of cultural awareness among pupils who could find their own stories there as well as get satisfaction from a range of different identities contributing to human history.

Music, food and fish pedicures in Malaysia and Thailand

By Nancy Newcombe (W U6)

It’s scarf, pyjama and overcoat weather. The trip to Gascoigne requires gloves, another layer, and a considerable speedwalking pace to avoid the cold. This mildly dramatic portrayal of Oundle in October may seem an exaggeration, but it also seems a necessary inclusion to demonstrate the stark contrast to the daily life we’d be experiencing a mere week later, in Malaysia.

Michaelmas Half Term saw a group of circa 35 Oundelians long hauling across the globe to exhibit countless displays of musicality in schools, universities, bars and buffets, with a repertoire including (but not limited to) Vivaldi, Telemann, Brahms, Holst and Mozart. We were phenomenally lucky to take part in such an extravagant tour, taking in both Malaysia and Thailand; many of us had never travelled so far and some pupils even had to apply for a passport in order to make the trip.

As well as the weather (30°C every day!), a major difference to adjust to was the cuisine – no amount of Thai or Malaysian restaurants in the UK could do the food we ate justice: kaya toast, cendol, durian pastries, char kway teow, pickled aubergine – just a tiny selection of the ridiculous amount of delicious food tried and tasted over the ten-day trip.

Clearly, music formed a large part of our time abroad, but that didn’t mean our activities were restricted solely to practising clapping rhythms, long bow strokes, and fast page turns. We explored the multiethnic ‘harmony street’ in Melaka (with an Islamic mosque and both a Buddhist and Hindu temple lining the road), ambled through walkways decked in greenery and market stalls, and floated through a river market, dispensing baht left, right

and centre. We were treated to a rehearsal of the Hans Zimmer repertoire by Dewan Philharmonic Orchestra, and as a restorative break between concerts, masterclasses and practices, spent a weekend sunning in a seaside spa hotel. As a relaxation plan, this was not too shabby!

The hospitality throughout was exceptional, from the astounding Oundle Thai Community dinner hosted (and very much enjoyed) in Bangkok, to the extreme friendliness of the pupils we met and played with from schools and universities across the two countries. While we knew that we were fortunate enough to have the support of countless Oundle pupils past and present to guide us around cities and their respective markets, the dedication of the Oundle community to helping us was beyond belief. It was great to recognise in person the historic links Oundle has with these countries, as well as getting a feel for the cities so many Oundelians call home. As the touring pupils spanned the year groups from Fourth Form to Upper Sixth, the trip also provided the opportunity to get to know pupils at different stages in their Oundle journey –many fun conversations were had – outside the focused rehearsals, of course!

Considering the miles crossed and hours of sleep lost, only one violin almost going astray seems positively unbelievable, and with no passports mislaid or children forgotten, the trip was an absolute success. We played in venues with a capacity of 900 people, found new contacts across the world, and some members of the party even experienced a market-side fish pedicure…

With Mr Gibbon’s impressive networking skills and Francoise’s stellar efforts in keeping allergens and illnesses away, (and us all on time) we were able to enjoy every day, and a few weeks after our arrival back in England, we were even able to go to sleep without Vivaldi concertos running wild through our heads. If music is a universal language, practice makes perfect, but passion and appreciation prove to be more important – something we certainly saw over our two-week musical extravaganza.

“If music is a universal language, practice makes perfect, but passion and appreciation prove to be more important.”

The Fairy Queen

By Cecilia Kilpatrick (N U6)

In September 2023, several talented singers, dancers and instrumentalists took up the challenge of semi-staging Purcell’s The Fairy Queen within a very short timeframe and performing it across two evenings. It was perhaps a slightly different performance to that which the Stahl has seen before, filled with the very distinctive sounds of music from the Baroque period.

The Fairy Queen was composed by Henry Purcell and was first performed in 1692 as an English semi-opera; the term used to describe plays with substantial musical entertainments (known as masques) inserted into them. They therefore become a hybrid between an opera and a play. The Fairy Queen is based around William Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream, although Purcell didn’t directly set any of Shakespeare’s text to music and instead composed for short masques, involving Shakespeare’s characters and a host of other pastoral and allegorical figures. In a full staging of the opera, these would be performed around sections of Shakespeare’s play, setting scenes and drawing out emotional or thematic resonances.

The first masque of the semi-opera occurs after Titania has left Oberon following an argument over the ownership of a little boy, in which two of her fairies come and sing a soprano and bass duet about the delights of the countryside, followed by a drunken and stuttering poet singing about wine, who is mocked by the fairies. Interestingly, it’s thought that the stutter was based on the affliction of Thomas d’Urfey, a contemporary and competitor of Purcell’s in the Baroque music scene.

The second masque begins after Oberon orders Puck to anoint the eyes of Demetrius with the love-juice. Titania and her fairies sing merrily together, before Night, Mystery, Secrecy and Sleep all lull them to sleep.

In the third masque, Titania has fallen in love with Bottom, and a nymph sings of the pleasures and torments of love, before Titania and Bottom are entertained by the amusing (and in our production rather memorable, with some flirtatious chasing) relationship between the two haymakers, Corydon and Mopsa.

Within the fourth masque we see Titania freed from her enchantment, but mostly there are songs of Phoebus, Spring, Summer, Autumn and Winter.

The final and fifth masque demonstrates Theseus’ knowledge of the lovers’ adventures in the wood; the goddess Juno sings an epithalamium and a woman sings a plaint, which was added by Purcell at a later date, before the semi-opera ends with two women singing the praises of married bliss.

Purcell’s scoring of the semi-opera is brilliantly and intricately crafted to convey the drama within the music. The Fairy Queen is usually scored for two recorders, two oboes, two trumpets, timpani, string instruments and harpsichord continuo, although we had a slightly reduced scoring in our production with recorders, continuo, and a small string section. Purcell’s style of writing was so complex yet subtle, that Benjamin Britten argued that Purcell had a greater understanding of the English language than any other composer who set it, and that he was unique in his ability to blend text, sound and structure. For example, there is a great variety in the

structure of the songs; from the ballad of Love’s A Sweet Passion to the long passacaglia, The Plaint, reminding us of the fragilities of love even as we near the happy ending of marriage. When Titania is sung to sleep, Night, Mystery, Secrecy and Sleep are all presented with a different instrumental accompaniment: to convey Night, Purcell scored muted violins, whereas Mystery’s air is accompanied only by continuo providing a contrast of mood and tempo. Purcell’s scoring of the four seasons also shows his clever skill, as Spring is scored for violins, Summer by oboes, Autumn with violins in call and response with the voice, and Winter with the strings playing a chromatically descending line which the voice later adopts.

Semi-staging this reduced version of the semi-opera in the space of a week was an unforgettable experience, and being able to see it gradually come together was truly rewarding. What began as sheets of music which we had learned, slowly and separately, in singing lessons or small groups over the course of the Summer Term last year, soon became a spectacle with dancers, lighting and costumes. The dancers truly highlighted Purcell’s liveliness in his music with a memorable moment being the Bird’s prelude, in which one of our talented ballerinas danced en pointe to draw out the elegance and delicacy of the bird’s call.

It was also a challenge to think about the different characters and tones of the pieces and how to embody these whilst singing quite challenging music all from memory. For myself, singing The Plaint, this meant a slow and mournful pace around the stage towards the door before returning to sing the second half of my piece.

We had so much to do in the one week of rehearsal, including becoming used to what it felt like to sing in the Stahl without any help from microphones (which would not have been very Baroque!) as well as rehearsing our pieces for the first time with our wonderful instrumentalists and deciding which costumes best suited our pieces; Sam and Philip’s memorable flirtatious duet involved a rather stunning red dress and a wobbly walk in high-heels! We also had to adjust as we progressed throughout the week as we were sadly losing people to illness and so we had to learn new music to perform at very short notice. It was very stressful at times, but a good experience of what professionals would have to deal with. Despite the enormity of the challenge that we took on, it was a very special performance to have been a part of, and a privilege to share the joys of Purcell and Baroque music with the School and those who might not otherwise come across it.

“IT WAS A VERY SPECIAL PERFORMANCE TO HAVE BEEN A PART OF, AND A PRIVILEGE TO SHARE THE JOYS OF PURCELL AND BAROQUE MUSIC WITH THE SCHOOL.”

OSCAR

By Nancy Newcombe (W U6)

You would have thought that after more than 25 years of broadcasting, the Oundle pupils’ enthusiasm for OSCAR radio would have waned. Upon considering the ever-increasing number of potential freetime activities on offer here, and shifts in preference towards streaming platforms over radio, presumptions might further grow. However, to presume so would be to presume incorrectly. Thanks to the willingness of generations of Oundle pupils to share their interests and thoughts, OSCAR remains at the heart of Oundle life each time a biannual broadcast swings around. In line with changing technology, OSCAR has rejuvenated itself many times, with more focus now being placed on Instagram publicity and marketing than ever before. Shows such as OS DinoSoc and Oundle School Blind Dating even run their own Instagram accounts to boost their listening numbers – a strategy which clearly paid off!

OSCAR’S PAST

The influence of previous managing directors’ is scattered over OSCAR’s history, a testimony to the legacy OOs have left, that we strive to uphold. The name OSCAR Radio (originally an acronym for Oundle School Community Action Radio) was chosen by Oundle’s first female Head of School, Fleur Swaney; Samantha Griffiths was the first ever managing director after funds were kindly raised by the Oundle School Foundation to purchase the necessary equipment following a campaign from Oundle pupils and teachers.

Further down the line, in 2003, the then

managing director, Sandy Rowell, designed the new purpose-built studios which were to be placed in Old Dryden. Fully equipped with a computer playout system, a separate newsroom, DJ booth, an archive area and eight production workstations, this new complex functioned as a copy of the smallscale UK radio stations at the time, and was even opened by Sir Howard Stringer, an OO and Chairman of the Board of the Sony Corporation.

OSCAR’s evolution continued as it was moved to the top floor of the Gascoigne Music Department in 2014, now sharing the site with our Music Technology and Recording facilities, bringing together some of the areas currently in Mr Gardiner’s domain. A new website has just been created to further OSCAR’s trajectory of modernity; the website holds a larger importance now that all streaming is done via internet broadcasting, enabling international reach rather than the 30 square miles previously possible through FM radio transmission. Tika Capon’s (G U6) fantastic coding and design efforts have resulted in a website that’s easy to administer, navigate and understand, with the previous website being over a decade old. An additional advancement is the

redesigning of the logo in what we hope to be a welcome rejuvenation for OSCAR’s brand.

Unbeknownst to many, including myself until recently, as well as there being podcasts of previous OSCAR shows on the Oundle Dashboard and OSCAR’s website, some episodes are even on SoundCloud; do have a listen if some 2020 archived shows take your fancy!

OSCAR’S PRESENT

2024 brings a new team of directors heading the broadcasts; technicians, presenters, news readers, administrators and publicists will work together to produce weeks of entertainment, spanning from Live Lounge performances to comedies, and quizzes to educational episodes. The main focus for OSCAR this term for me, as a media director, was to increase the pupil body’s interest in the radio, from taking part to simply tuning in, as OSCAR’s Schoolwide presence had diminished following the lockdowns. Tactics such as harnessing enthusiasm from upper years, Instagram engagement, and the classic bribery with chocolate were employed to promote OSCAR, and there’s been a real increase in engagement School-wide as a result.

Whilst being a director does mean a substantial amount of your time will be dedicated to anything from supervising shows, to planning the next broadcast, to creating publicity posters and spreading the OSCAR gospel, working with the OSCAR team reaps reams of benefits – and not just those to your CV! Like any extracurricular activity, you meet a different selection of pupils – both those who work regularly with OSCAR, and those turning up once to host a show – and I think the experiences and skills gained through OSCAR have benefitted me no end. OSCAR dinners have been held in both Brew Babu and Dexters to celebrate the directors’ commitment, a highlight of the broadcasting year.

OSCAR’s constant evolution means that you, as a pupil, are always in the position to implement your suggestions for its improvement: new show ideas, publicity techniques, or music production jingles are always welcome and will contribute to the OSCAR legacy begun by pupils who now will be celebrating their 40s.

“Working with the OSCAR team reaps reams of benefits – and not just those to your CV!”

Image: Betty Zhang (Sn U6)

Christmas Debate 2023

By Charlotte Crawley (L 4)

The Michaelmas Term is undoubtedly the busiest at Oundle and each year it is drawn to a close with the festive Christmas Debating Competition. It is an occasion when many pupils come together and partake in some light-hearted discussion with a side of mince pies and hot chocolate.

This year, the evening began with the House supporting a controversial change of the traditional Christmas turkey to different farm animals to promote equal animal rights. This motion was met with great enthusiasm, with each team scurrying away to find a quiet place to prepare.

British Parliamentary debating – in which four teams are divided into Government and Opposition, each containing an opening

and a closing team – is undeniably one of the most difficult styles, however, the perseverance and willingness shown by all was admirable. The arguments presented by our debaters varied from highly logical to rather amusing. Despite a valiant effort from all, my first debate was won by the opening government who spoke with great passion about the motion’s economic and environmental benefits.

After a short break filled with laughter and fun, the final motion of the evening was unveiled. Excitement around the room grew as teams were quickly formulating their arguments for or against Father Christmas’s retirement and the takeover of Amazon. The ideas produced in the following debates were nothing short of extraordinary. In one

instance, Father Christmas was defined as ‘any large, bearded man in a red coat’. This controversial interpretation sparked a wide array of heated conversation, with the final verdict crowning the opening opposition as victors.

Enjoyable times always seem to end far too quickly, and this was certainly the case for the Christmas debate. It was a wonderful way to round-off another fantastic year for the Debating Society. However, what makes the Christmas debate so enjoyable for me is how it unifies like-minded individuals, no matter their age. The spirit of Christmas was, as usual, woven throughout the whole event and helped provide the welcoming atmosphere synonymous with the entire evening. There are so many festive occasions at Oundle that I would encourage pupils to sign up for, but the Christmas debate will always remain the one I would most recommend. In my opinion, nothing can beat an evening of festive cheer, unlimited treats and some thrilling discussion. For these reasons, I urge you to join us next year, regardless of your ability, as there is no better way to get into the Christmas spirit than with a bit of friendly competition.

“ENJOYABLE TIMES ALWAYS SEEM TO END FAR TOO QUICKLY, AND THIS WAS CERTAINLY THE CASE FOR THE CHRISTMAS DEBATE.”

Image: Mrs Alexandra Gould

Being part of the LGBTQ+ community

By Teddy Flanagan (N L6)

I’ve known that I’m bisexual since I was nine years old. I came out as transgender in the late months of 2021. Having been on a long journey of investigation and self-exploration, I can now say with confidence and pride that I am genderfluid.

Before I continue, it is important to distinguish the difference between sex and gender. Sex is the biological construction of one’s body, the chromosomes, genitals and hormones (though even in this, there are far more variations than many would imagine); gender is the social construct, that is society’s expectations of our appearance and behaviour, based upon our sex.

This construct is deeply ingrained in our society, and often taken as ‘truth’, which is why the issue arouses such strong feelings, but the idea that sex and gender aren’t binary is not a new one. The earliest evidence of a ‘third sex’ appears in Neolithic and Bronze Age drawings and figurines, dating back as early as 7,000 BCE. Often these are intersex with, for example, breasts and male sexual organs, and sometimes they have no defining sexual characteristics. Indeed, a multitude of societies older than the one that we exist in now have openly and proudly depicted their fluidity in gender roles and expectations for years, most prominently Hawaiian, Aboriginal and many South-East Asian cultures.

Because coming out, especially as a teenager, means going against a weight of social expectations and pressure to conform, it is often a process fraught with fear and anxiety, even when the community around you is supportive. National and international debates over whether trans youths should be given access to the treatments and care associated with transitioning are almost unavoidable, and often used to detract from more pressing societal issues. Coming out also comes with the fear that your revelations might alienate those you love. It may be that they ask questions which cause you to feel trivialised or dismissed when, in all likelihood, the understanding that you

have come to about yourself has already been the result of a long period of intense research and reflection.

However, this does not mean that you won’t find love, or acceptance. It also does not mean that you will never be comfortable in your own body, in your own skin. It means that you will explore your sense of self so deeply that you will find yourself wanting to tell everyone you love how happy you are with the self that you’ve found. And that sense of yourself is allowed to change over time! However difficult it may be to find it at first, there will always be a place of warmth, love, and acceptance for you, regardless of your expression and your identity.

If you are reading this as an ally, or as the friend of someone on a self-discovery journey, the most important thing you can bring to the community is a willingness to learn. If somebody you know trusts you enough to come out to you, to be open about their experiences with you, be the type of person who welcomes it, who reaffirms their care and love and does not invalidate or deny what has been said. You might not understand exactly what your friend is going through or the position they have reached and that’s okay! Perhaps you could respond with questions such as, “I don’t understand yet, but can you explain it to me?” or “I’m so glad you trusted me with this.” It can come as a shock when someone comes out to you and there might be things that are difficult to process. All we ask is for allies to be the type of people who perhaps do not understand yet but wish to learn and welcome new things.

Inevitably and unfortunately, there are those who are thoughtless and hurtful, and I have had to remind myself that those who

are unwilling to take responsibility for their words and actions are not worth my time or my upset. These experiences aren’t to be glossed over, and have had an impact on me, but there have been many positive changes within the School, and I have been proud to have been part of formulating and implementing them. Oundle has also shown me a community of people willing to learn, willing to be educated and willing to understand what it is to go through the experience that is being LGBTQ+. Becoming an LGBTQ+ ambassador for the Pupil Pastoral Forum has opened up opportunities for me to make changes in the School that I previously thought were not possible, and opportunities for me to provide support for young members of the community who may be struggling. Pride Societies happen every week, twice a week, as an opportunity for the younger members of the School to have their voice amplified through Maru (the other LGBTQ+ ambassador) and me, and we have already had successes in multiple areas of the School through providing education, resources and a safe place for any pupil in the School who wants it. Any pupil or adult who wishes to reach out is incredibly welcome. I am always willing to answer any questions that I can, have any discussions that I am able to, and provide as much education as I can to those who are looking for it. All we ask for as a community is acceptance and compassion.

There will always be a variety of types of people in life. Although being confronted by some of these types can be uncomfortable, knowledge of this variety can bring a sense of peace once you have come to terms with it. It allows us to know that there are people just like us but also challenges us with the awareness that we, too, need education.

Regardless of how much you think you know about any topic, you can never know the truth of someone else’s experience well enough to tell it yourself. Every experience is individual, and that is something beautiful about being human. There is no one ‘human condition’; there is only individual truth.

Everything I have mentioned here is my individual truth. I have had experience with others in the community and I have done my best to include their experiences too, but if your experience differs from this, that does not mean it is not valid.

We are here, we are valid, and we are proud.

“The most important thing you can bring to the community is a willingness to learn.”

Spanish language exchange: A new model

By Francesca Thacker Martin (Sn U6) and Lucas Mackenzie (S U6)

The February Half Term Spanish language exchange to Vejer de la Frontera was great fun. Vejer de la Frontera is a beautiful, dreamy, whitewashed town that sits on top of a huge hill (we cycled up it!) on the Costa de la Luz (Spain’s Cornwall) just south of Cadiz, in Andalucia.

The exchange provided an incredible opportunity for pupils to become immersed in the rich culture of Vejer de la Frontera and experience first-hand the warmth and the generosity of Spanish people. We can assure you that it was a highlight of our time at Oundle.

Language exchanges are highly beneficial for pupils, especially in such remote locations such as Vejer where nobody speaks English, but unfortunately, due to safeguarding issues, many UK schools are no longer running them. Police checks are required if pupils stay overnight with a family, and it is difficult for exchange pupils to stay in the UK as host families must be DBS checked too. These barriers prevent many pupils from experiencing the enriching opportunities a language exchange provides. However, the Oundle-Vejer exchange

takes a more pragmatic approach: pupils stay in a central hotel and spend the evenings with their host families. No overnighting allows pupils to enjoy being with their friends at night and provide constant feedback to teachers. It strikes exactly the right balance.

These evenings with host families were one of the best aspects of the trip. Since it was only for three hours an evening, we all made a real effort to speak as much Spanish as possible. There was also time before dinner to mix with the Spanish pupils and explore the historic, whitewashed town. We visited places such as the Catholic church, the castle, and the mills, accompanied by the Spanish pupils and their families who provided culturally enriching historical knowledge.

The exchange happens only once a year, so the families make a huge effort when preparing dinner. If you were to ask any pupil about the trip, their first comment would be about the delicious food that the families cooked, particularly having studied the traditional cuisine in class. This could include croquettes, churros and Mediterranean salads, a personal favourite, with rich Spanish

“We can assure you that it was a highlight of our time at Oundle.”

from a tough hike and scenic bike ride, to surfing and donkey riding. The most popular activity was surfing, even though we found it slightly difficult to stand up on the board without careering into the locals. Another more unexpected but exciting activity was riding the local legend, Juanino’s donkeys, in the town park, which was great fun for everyone, although we are yet to see the teachers befriend them.

olive oil and vinegar. The host families were extremely generous and welcoming, which meant we were able to practise our Spanish stress-free and learn some Spanish card games along the way.

In the mornings Sixth Formers took part in work experience and Fourth and Fifth Form pupils enjoyed language lessons. The work experience in the morning could be quite busy, but always good fun as we were introduced to half the town along the way. The Sixth Formers worked in a variety of locations, including a hairdresser, laundromat, newsagents, and a nursery. At times it could be difficult to understand the language, as the Spanish natives speak so quickly and with so much passion!

In the afternoons we all enjoyed a wide range of activities, ranging

We also did some city visits, travelling to Seville for some sightseeing, as well as Cádiz to enjoy the carnival. We saw hundreds of singers at the Carnaval de Cádiz, many of them in fancy dress. We dressed up in our own outfits, though admittedly on a slightly smaller budget. In Seville, we learnt about the history of the Moors and Christians in Spain by visiting the Real Alcázar. We also saw the Cathedral, where we went up La Giralda, and followed that with a traditional tapas lunch, though some in the younger years decided to visit Starbucks instead and certainly missed out.

Overall, the trip was a huge success, and everyone thoroughly enjoyed themselves despite the anxiety surrounding speaking to and understanding the locals. None of this could have been possible without the teachers’ careful planning and organisation, so they deserve our thanks.

Second Form performance weekend

By Madeleine Fremantle (By 2)

The first weekend of February 2024 brought great excitement to all the First and Second Form pupils, including myself, as we all spent endless hours preparing for what was to be a spectacular weekend. At 8am on that Saturday morning, the sense of tension and excitement was so tangible that I could almost taste it. Everywhere I went, I saw groups of pupils, chatting nervously, humming song lyrics or muttering sentences that they had clearly memorised by heart.

At the Stahl, hundreds of bags had been flung in a heap in the foyer, whilst each quarter – Cygnus, Hydra, Ursa, and Pegasus – had just enough time to rehearse their songs with lighting. Meanwhile, my peers and I were hurrying to Old Dryden, to see Mrs Gould and Mr Robinson, who were to give last-minute advice on our Balloon Debate speeches (for the Second Form) or their Poetry Declamation presentations (for the First Form). As the time slipped away quickly, we gathered in the Stahl auditorium, nattering about nothing in particular; in my case, I was trying not to think about the speech that I had to perform in a couple of hours!

The morning performances were the First Form Poetry

Declamations, judged by Mrs Kerr-Dineen, in which eight pupils had been selected to present a poem of their choice to the enraptured audience. Albie Harris (Sco 1) came out victorious, with his performance of The Tyger by William Blake, shocking the audience, partly helped by his entrance from the top of the auditorium! Everyone was congratulated, as the poems were performed from memory to quite an intimidating audience – not an easy thing to do. These were followed by the highly competitive Quarter Singing, which was an incredible success for all involved!

I was buzzing after the excitement of the morning, but after a hasty snack of doughnuts and hot chocolate, we returned to the stage for the highly awaited Public Speaking Balloon debate Competition. The mixture of ages which chatted and bustled up to the auditorium was wonderful, creating a real sense of camaraderie between the quarters and year groups, which was amazing to see. For those of you who are unaware, a Balloon debate is a type of debate, not with rebuttals, but where several speakers attempt to win the approval of an audience. The audience is invited to imagine that the speakers are flying in a hot air balloon which is sinking and

that someone must be thrown out if everyone is not to die. Each speaker must make the case as to why they should not be thrown out of the balloon to save the remainder. Usually, each participant speaks on behalf of someone famous or well known; Igor Sikorsky, Tim Berners-Lee, Frederick Douglass, Oscar Niemeyer, and Shirely Jackson were amongst those who tried to win over the audience in the Stahl that morning.

I have debated before but had never done anything quite like this, but then neither had my peers. As we each stood up to argue our case, a great deal of encouragement came from the audience, but also from those of us sitting expectantly behind the speaker, on the large, intimidating stage. After the participant had said everything they could, Mr Lewins, previous head of MFL at Oundle, asked a question about the famous individual. Quick thinking and conviction were key to answering these questions, as they counted toward who would come out on top. Beans vouchers were handed out by Mr Lewins to two highly commended debaters (Maxine Lee (By) and Will Gilbert (Sco)) and the overall winner [ed. Madeleine was too humble to say it, but this was her!], and everyone agreed that the morning had been an incredible success.

There was not much time to rest for the Second Form however, because at 9am on Sunday, when most would have preferred to have slept in till around 10:30, we all gathered at the Stahl again,

“I HAVE DEBATED BEFORE BUT HAD NEVER DONE ANYTHING QUITE LIKE THIS.”

ready to rehearse for the annual Shakespeare Day.

Everyone had something to do, finding costumes, doing hair and makeup, asking around for props, rehearsing last-minute lines, or in the case of many, fighting with the wooden swords. Forty minutes were given to each set to have a full-dress rehearsal run through of their performances – those being Macbeth, A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Romeo and Juliet, and Twelfth Night. After rehearsals, we all gathered in the Drama classrooms to talk to our class, watch a film, eat a large amount of tuck, or join the enthusiastic Mr Raudnitz doing Just Dance!

There were of course, some small upsets during the performances, for example in Macbeth, when during the dramatic scene between the enraged Macduff and Macbeth, a usually robust prop sword broke during the fight, but overall, all the plays were a triumph, and the audience enjoyed them immensely.

I was going to give some shoutouts to those who I thought performed particularly well, but if I did, the list would be endless. Everyone tried incredibly hard to get into character, learn their lines and help by bringing in props from home, making the experience unforgettable.

I would like to give credit to the incredible English department, Stahl team, and Music department, because without their tireless efforts, this incredible couple of days would certainly not have been possible.

This weekend taught people many things, such as courage, leadership, and the ability to listen to others, but one of the most important aspects is that everyone bonded really well throughout the year groups. Overall, however, each and every person ended up having a great deal of fun – culminating in incredible success.

ACADEMIC

Everything goes, everything comes back; eternally rolls the wheel of being…

By Tsz Ching Cheung (L U6)

“

What if, some day or night, a demon were to steal after you into your loneliest loneliness and say to you: ‘This life as you now live it and have lived it, you will have to live once more and innumerable times more; and there will be nothing new in it, but every pain and every joy and every thought and sigh and everything unutterably small or great in your life will have to return to you, all in the same succession and sequence – and likewise this spider and this moonlight between the trees, and likewise this moment and I myself. The eternal hourglass of existence will be turned over again and again, and you with it, you speck of dust!’

Would you not throw yourself down and gnash your teeth and curse the demon who spoke thus? Or have you once experienced a tremendous moment when you would have answered him: ‘You are a god and never have I heard anything more divine.’”

Let me paraphrase that for you:

I ask you this question – what if one night, a demon told you that you would have to live this exact same life over and over again for eternity? And I mean exact – every single pain and joy and thought

you have ever experienced will happen again, in the exact same sequence. Would you curse this demon or call him a god?

I think I’d personally be worried I was hallucinating, but this is a thought experiment proposed by infamous German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche in his book The Joyous Science, and serves as a neat introduction to a concept central to his philosophy, die Ewige Wiederkunft, or the eternal recurrence. While not an idea original to him, instead first arising in ancient Greece, being primarily associated with the Stoics, Nietzsche revived this idea in the 19th century.

Nietzsche’s philosophy is commonly dismissed as nothing more than existential fuel for nihilistic, angst-ridden teenagers (yes, I am aware of the irony here) and it’s not entirely difficult to see why. Superficially, his writing agrees with the commonly held, rebellious mindset – “Screw the rules!” – and is written in such a flamboyant, sharply visual manner that is both provocative and malleable enough to fit various agendas, leading to his writing often being misquoted. Have you ever heard the idea of the will to power being thrown around by dangerously far-right politicians, or the phrase “God is dead” being used in some half-hearted, ‘gotcha!’ attempt to encourage all religious people to admit: “Oh boy. I guess we were wrong all along!”? That is, however, another matter, and I digress. Everything dies, everything blossoms again; eternally runs the year of being.

Essentially, eternal recurrence is the idea that time repeats itself in an infinite loop and every single event and individual experience, no matter how big or small, happens again and again, identically for all of eternity. This, to Nietzsche in particular, had quite a few unpleasant connotations. His life was one plagued with suffering: throughout his life, he suffered from chronic ill-health, likely from a slow-growing brain tumour, and was also haunted by unrequited love, lack of recognition and ultimately, madness. Even after death and during the last insanity-stricken years of his life, his works were manipulated by his sister to promote anti-Semitism under the developing Nazi regime, though this has recently come under dispute. Charlie Huenemann, in fact, quite simply states: ‘No philosopher ever suffered as Nietzsche suffered’. It is, however, unclear whether or not he actually believed in this eternal recurrence or simply posed the question for pondering upon, as philosophers do; though his personal notebooks suggest he may have believed in it, it is never presented in his work as a factual claim.

So, how are we supposed to respond and how is it even relevant? I cannot successfully answer the second question, but what I can say is that when titular Zarathustra, in Nietzsche’s Thus Spoke Zarathustra, came to this realisation that ‘man recurs eternally’, he initially did not take it particularly well, lying down for seven days and refusing to eat or drink. Ultimately, however, he embraced this eternity fervently – and perhaps this points to how Nietzsche suggests we should live our lives too.

Albert Camus, potentially familiar to some from his L’Étranger, used the Greek mythological figure, Sisyphus, in his philosophical essay The Myth of Sisyphus, as a metaphor for the absurdity of an individual’s life. To those unfamiliar with Sisyphus’ story, he was punished by Hades for cheating death by being eternally forced

to roll a boulder up a hill, which would roll down every time it reached the top. Camus concludes this essay with his famous quote: ‘One must imagine Sisyphus happy.’ He introduces the idea of the human condition as the ‘absurd’, suggesting that fundamentally, humans impose a meaning on life but the universe only responds with silence. Essentially, since life is inherently meaningless, we must acknowledge this unchangeable truth and simply continue, like Sisyphus. Only when we realise the futility of our fate will we reach a state of contentment and acceptance and this, in some way, resembles Nietzsche’s conclusion closely enough.

In every Now, being begins; round every Here rolls the sphere There.

“Amor fati: let that be my love henceforth!” proclaims Nietzsche and it is this concept of amor fati, the love of fate, as well as the general attitude in which everything that happens in one’s life is good, which is Nietzsche’s conclusion from the idea of eternal recurrence. He follows this idea of amor fati with the desire to only be a ‘yes-sayer’ – accepting anything life might throw his way. Obviously, that’s easier said than done – it takes an impressive amount of time and willpower to twist any negative event into another simple step of development. I don’t think Nietzsche exactly expected anyone to fully be able to follow this – rather, to simply try to approach things with a different mindset and accept the inevitability of things as they are.

Eternal recurrence, as written in his posthumously released thoughts, was supposedly his ‘most difficult thought’ and this makes sense; the countless implications and views on life one could take up as a result of this are immense. Does life suddenly gain a whole new meaning and importance if every single one of your choices, thoughts and feelings matter because you will experience them over and over again, eternally? Or does this make the opposite happen – will your values be rendered useless and life meaningless because no matter what you choose, it will happen again, and again, and again…

How would this change your attitude to the past? Yes, it is true that you can’t change what’s already happened but your view on your actions would most definitely be changed. But does this not all ultimately lead to a crossroads, the two options being: amor fati, the vigorous embracing of one’s fate; or deep, endless regret towards an unchangeable destiny? Would your feelings about life intensify or fizzle into nothing? Would you blossom or fade away? Ultimately, would you curse this demon or call him a god? And out of these two conflicting options, is there not one that is clearly ideal, that we should strive to achieve, or at least use as an inspiration and, instead of dwelling on the mistakes of the past, move forward and make the most of the remaining life we have?

The centre is everywhere. Bent is the path of eternity.

“ETERNAL RECURRENCE IS THE IDEA THAT TIME REPEATS ITSELF IN AN INFINITE LOOP AND EVERY SINGLE EVENT AND INDIVIDUAL EXPERIENCE HAPPENS AGAIN AND AGAIN.”

‘The truth is that truth has always been a contested idea.’ (Rushdie) Explore the implications of this quotation within your sphere(s) of interest.

By Sophie Watts (Sn

L6)

This is an abridged version of Sophie’s firstprize winning entry to the Liberal Arts Essay competition.

In a protean world, plagued by issues of ‘fake news’, corruption and controversies over the freedom of speech, it seems to be increasingly difficult to find permanent, universal truth. Does such a thing exist at all? Or is our world simply too complex, too imperfect and incorrigible for truth to be found? I will advocate for the evidence of truth in our world but in doing so I intend to pick apart not only the concept of truth itself but also humanity’s tenuous relationship with it through the ages. Rushdie claimed that ‘We stand once again…in the midst of the rubble of truth’, and that the power of literature needed to be utilised to rebuild the belief and faith of its readers. But I aim to illustrate that truth is not broken: distorted perhaps by humanity’s attempts to define it, baptize it or control it, but not broken. Therefore we do not have to rebuild the rubble because the rubble was never there to begin with; instead we need to swap out the illusioned lens of our own perception for a clearer, unblemished one.

For centuries western philosophers have been tormented by the question of truth and its mutability and given that ‘all of Western philosophy is a footnote to Plato’ (A N Whitehead) it seems the only wise course of action is to begin with him and his definition of truth. Plato’s theory of Forms engendered the questions of ‘truth’ that are still debated in the present. The ancient thinker posited the idea that truth could not exist in the tangible universe: he asserted that the material universe was exhaustingly rife with change and thus there could be no permanent truth. But Plato neglected to reason that truth might not exist anywhere and instead argued that truth could be found in one place alone: the World of the Forms. The World of the Forms lies outside of the physical universe and it is home to Plato’s ‘Forms’: the ideal, eternally unchanging version of all things found on

Earth. In a palpable example, a carpenter is preparing to manufacture a new chair: he conjures an image of the ‘perfect chair’ he desires to make. The carpenter has experienced, designed and been seated upon numerous chairs in his lifetime and none of these chairs are congruous to one another, nor his idea of the perfect chair: the chair he creates will fail to be a concrete copy of the idealised chair because with time it will become tarnished with age or used as firewood by some nonchalant owner; it changes. But this idea of a ‘perfect chair’ does not wither with time and so, according to Plato, it is a ‘true chair’ because it is permanent: the ‘perfect chair’ does not exist on Earth, so Plato reasons it must exist elsewhere in the World of the Forms.

Humans cannot access the World of Forms in Plato’s dogma, but their souls can after life. Moreover, ‘truth’ as a concept can be projected mentally but Plato rejected it as a ‘physical’ concept in the tangible universe and, using a priori logic, concludes that it too must exist in the World of Forms.

Plato propounded his theory of reality based on his rationalist perspective: similar to Descartes, Plato refused to accept that the universe which humans experience could be accepted as truthful when human senses or exterior forces could be distorting the truth inside it. Plato circumvents the issue of finding truth in the universe, avoids the skirmish of nihilism, and reasons that naturally it is less complicated to propose a metaphysical universe independent of our own than to find truth on Earth.

Fortunately, his pupil dared to doubt the answer that Plato provided and volunteered a fresh and disparate proposition.

‘Plato is still dear to me, but dearer still is the truth’ (ascribed to Aristotle). Aristotle contended that universal truth could indeed be found in the empirical universe. He justly believed the onus of truth hunting was on philosophy as well as science (the two are closely interlinked) and thereby implicated scientific empirical evidence into his theory on truth and reality. Aristotle witnessed

change in the universe and did not balk. Plato labelled change as inimical to truth; Aristotle catalogues it as a simple fact of the universe, one that truth can therefore coincide with. Aristotle rationed that every existing object in the universe was invariably in two states: a state of actuality and a state of potentiality. He convincingly avowed that, when change is present in an object, it is simply moving from a state of potentiality into actuality. Aristotle effectively provides the foundational theories for a conclusive search for permanent, uncontested truth in the universe: the laws of physical science can be relied upon as a starting point. Where Aristotle fails is in his assumption of purpose and control in the universe, because it is under this illusion that truth has become distorted and thrown into a crucible of historical conflict, sociopolitical uproar and philosophical burgeoning.

‘Nature does nothing without purpose or uselessly’ (Aristotle, Politics). It is man’s disposition for implying purpose from the universe in this way that results in truth becoming contested. Aristotle surmised that everything in the universe was caused, in part, by its ‘purpose’: the philosopher himself used the Greek word telos and reasoned that it was in light of this telos that our material universe exists. This assumption engendered the preponderant belief in mankind that we necessarily have a purpose, a reason for our existence. By assuming purpose, ‘truth’ becomes twisted and thereby contested because humanity begins to view the world through ‘purpose tinted spectacles’ (Richard Dawkins, The Power of Purpose). Indeed impactful theologians baptized Aristotle’s ideas on purpose in the universe: Thomas Aquinas’ Natural Law directly stems from it as a teleological ethic. And so for centuries, humans have turned to the divine to protect themselves from the epistemological trauma that ensues at the realisation of the non-existence of purpose.

This reliance on the divine has been gravely influential as regards humanity’s relationship with ‘truth’: this relationship

with God has often warped or outright hindered humanity’s search for truth. When one discovers a vacuum in understanding, historically God has been filled in instead of scientific truths. After the dawn of Christianity, ‘God’ became analogous for ‘truth’ and his most influential modern mouthpieces (the Popes in Rome) were given the label ‘infallible’ and so their speech became ‘truth’... This threw truth into contention, especially when groundbreaking discoveries were being made about the truth of the universe and our existence. For example, when fundamental creationists were faced with the scientific truth behind human origin (evolution), they quickly sought to bury it: American schoolteacher John Scopes was taken to court and charged with violating state law in teaching Charles Darwin. Thereafter, the contortion of truth as a result of assumption of purpose is only one aspect of humanity’s mistreatment of truth as a concept; the more prominent cause of man’s ignorance is his illusion of control and

order in the universe.

‘No matter how big the lie; repeat it often and the masses will begin to regard it as truth’ (John F Kennedy). Ideas can be conditioned into nations by those in power, not only individuals but corporations also. Political propaganda is arguably the most culpable candidate for the seismic deterioration in ‘truth’ as a universal concept and, while propaganda as a term typically refers to present time persuasive techniques in media and literature, the most successful propaganda method is to control a nation’s history and thus warp the ‘truth’ behind its foundations and culture. History is narrated by the conquerors; not the conquered. Thus, since all nations’ histories are bedaubed with war and conflict, facts are altered in order to control the masses.

‘All warfare is based on deception’ (Sun Tzu) and the one-sided history that arises from it can result in centuries of misinformation. To use a classical example, before the infamous defeat of Mark Antony at Actium in 31BC, Octavian

“Rushdie claimed that ‘We stand once again… in the midst of the rubble of truth.’”

had circulated a staggering amount of inflammatory information against him: the famous emperor ordered the production of coins and poetry that painted his rival as a drunkard; he read aloud to the senate Antony’s will (to do so was in serious breach of Roman customs) in which Antony declares his love for Cleopatra and the East. By doing so, Octavian capitalised on the Roman public’s anti-Eastern prejudice and the animosity a patriarchal society held towards women in power.

Historians today still debate the authenticity of such an incriminating document yet the damage was done: two thousand years on, Cleopatra is still remembered as a seductress who caused Antony’s downfall. In this way, specific ‘truth’ in history can be contested and it is nearly impossible to find it concretely in a multifaceted conflict. Thus it is this imposing of control and ordering of history which throws truth into contestation.

Therefore, permanent truth must lie in a place where man has not posited purpose or order. A universe without purpose or order seems frighteningly bleak and distant to some but it is plain to see that this seemingly merciless universe is not distant at all; it is our own. In order for permanent truth to be found, an individual must recognise that this universe is truly chaotic. Despite the intrinsic desire for order that lies within man, we must accept the absurdity of our reality. In his groundbreaking ‘le mythe de Sisyphe’, Albert Camus hailed Sisyphus as a hero of this absurdity. Sisyphus recognised the hopelessness of evading his perpetual suffering (which represents the human condition) and weathered it. So long as he accepts this absurd struggle, he can find happiness. One must imagine Sisyphus happy, but one must also imagine Sisyphus enlightened, for truth can only be found when the ‘purpose tinted spectacles’ are removed at last.

To return to Plato: Plato decided that philosophers who have escaped the ‘cave of falsehoods and imperfections’ (our universe) and dismissed it, are most adept to rule those around them as ‘philosopher kings’. Roger Scruton’s Xanthippe (from his Xanthippic Dialogues) refutes him and claims that the true heroes are those who remain in the cave: by accepting their fate they endeavour to learn more about the truth of their own reality, reaching enlightenment by fumbling around tirelessly in the dark rather than taking the easy route out. Truth has often been contested and it will continue to be so because to be successful in finding it permanently, we must contest what is in our very nature: a yearning for purpose and order.

Should you apply to Oxbridge?

By Nathan Raudnitz (Sr U6)

I’ve had a few fortunate hands playing Three Card Brag, but not nearly enough to tell you much about luck. I am also not the prophet of my namesake, so lessons in divine providence are off the table too. ‘Will I be accepted into Oxbridge?’ cannot be answered here because, regardless of the work you do, the quality of your character, or the strength of your will, one unavoidable feature of the process is chance. A small part of every happy Oxbridge application is just luck, just as tough luck is the disappointing factor for many applicants across the world every year It’s the one thing for which you can’t revise.

Aside from the small matter of ensuring one’s karma is in order, the main feature of an Oxbridge application is simply very hard work. There is a lot of thinking, a lot of writing, and a lot of ‘hanging on in quiet desperation’; however, if an Oxbridge application is the right decision for you, you may well find it to be the most enjoyable work of your time at School. So, whether you are on the brink of a big choice in Lower Sixth, or on a particularly hot academic streak in First Form, what I want to try to give to you is a proper answer to the question, To apply, or not to apply? What does it really mean to apply to Oxbridge, and should I consider it?

Is there a subject which you really love? Maybe not yet, but in the run-up to your Lower Sixth exams, you may start to realise a particular affection for one of your A levels. You might choose to spend an extra fifteen minutes revising it; you might take a book out of the library on that subject and use a bit of your spare time to read it. Pursue that feeling. It is worth testing, as it may well turn out that on further research, the subject bores you senseless; however, if you keep reading and keep listening and keep searching and find yourself hooked, that is the one to choose.

If you do not like any of your subjects, it is unwise to apply to Oxbridge. When you make an application, you choose to dedicate a lot of time, a lot of thought, and a lot of energy to one subject. If you do not love that subject, you will be dedicating all that time to being bored and angry. For example, if you are considering applying for Maths, but you feel indifferent about Maths, for goodness’ sake, do not apply for Maths, because all you will be thinking about for the foreseeable future is graphs and angles and algebra.

Here is how it happened for me. I used to hate being at School. I did not want to do my GCSEs or A levels; I did not like reading, and

I did not want anything to do with Oxbridge. But at the end of Fifth Form, I had a chance conversation with my grandad about the poet, Philip Larkin. I did not know anything about Larkin’s character or writing, but a line was quoted somewhere across the table from The Whitsun Weddings:

We slowed again,

And as the tightened brakes took hold, there swelled

A sense of falling, like an arrow-shower Sent out of sight, somewhere becoming rain.

You might think it’s total dross and that’s fine, but in that moment, those lines bowled me over. I meant to read it, but did not bother, because I hated reading. In Lower Sixth, a compulsory research task yielded an opportunity. A list of potential titles on the whiteboard included ‘Poetry post-1950. Philip Larkin – The Whitsun Weddings’. Oh, yeah. That’s the bloke my grandad was talking about. Sure, I’ll do a presentation about him.

Things changed quickly. Firstly, I acquired some glasses and realised that reading was actually quite fun. Secondly, I read The Whitsun Weddings and found it interesting, so tried to read everything that Larkin had ever written. I loved every line of it and found myself on the explosive front of a chain reaction, reading everything I could get my hands on without really realising that anything had changed, except that I was now enjoying lessons, and suddenly knew what ‘Whitsun’ was. I decided to apply to read English Literature and Language at Oxford, thanks to that chance conversation at the back of the restaurant. The above lines from The Whitsun Weddings were the focus of my final interview at Oxford. With three formidable professors staring me down, there was almost no topic I’d have felt more excited to talk about.

After falling like an idiot for a subject, you will have to decide where you would like to study it. You will very often hear Oxford and Cambridge mentioned in the same breath, but which to choose? From my experience, one does not seem to be objectively better than the other. There are subtle differences in the universities’ respective approaches: the freeing breadth of a Natural Sciences course may draw one person towards Cambridge, just as it may push one with a narrower preference towards a course in neat Physics at Oxford. Both the Oxford and Cambridge websites offer detailed overviews of every course as taught at every college, which are well worth checking out. I know trawling through university websites doesn’t sound like a cool thing to do... It doesn’t really feel cool either. You will encounter abnormally enthusiastic quotations from pupils which might well disturb you, and some brilliantly useless college trivia, but the majority of the information is truly helpful, so I would urge you to check out every page thoroughly (possibly from some concealed location inside a washing basket, behind a thick

“WE ARE COACHED AND ENCOURAGED AND LED TO THE WATER AND, IF YOU ARE THIRSTY, I WOULD STRONGLY ADVISE YOU TO DRINK.”

wall, or in an area of uncharted polar desert, so as not to be caught by surprise).

For most subjects, you are likely to have to sit an exam in the October of Upper Sixth to receive an interview. The exam bears the slightly patronising name of an ‘Aptitude Test’. Every aptitude test has its own aptitude acronym: for example, the Classics Aptitude Test is the ‘C.A.T.’, and the History Aptitude Test is the ‘H.A.T.’ I have a suspicion that Dr Seuss may have been involved in the implementation of these exams, but don’t quote me on that. Revision will be thick and stress will be high, but that’s all right: this is the university’s opportunity to see how you approach your subject under pressure. Keep calm, know your stuff, and you will be all right. If you struggle to work under pressure, Oxbridge might not be right for you: both universities still operate on final exams rather than a coursework system, so considering how you work best is important.

Once you have decided to separate the Ox’ from the ’Bridge, you will have to choose a college. When applying to Oxford, you will be asked to specify a preferred college. This college may interview you, and/or pass your application to a different college. This is not to be taken as a personal attack – you have not been cast off or rejected – but matters of numbers and the way that faces fit will change the way the currents are running, and you might just find yourself somewhere you didn’t expect. Go with the flow. With Cambridge, one applies to a specific college. The college may choose to interview you, or may not. After this, they may decide to offer

you a place, or to redirect you into ‘the pool’ – a set of perfectly apt (they know how apt you are, after considering your aptitude test) potential candidates, who may be offered a place by any college, or may not.

Waiting to hear from the college after an interview is incredibly nerve-wracking. This is the end of the process. I spent the Christmas holiday with my stomach tensed, waiting to hear back on the first day of term. It was not fun – even less so for the Cambridge applicants, who waited a further two and a half weeks. However, across the whole year-long process, as we moved from wondering, to working, through worrying, to waiting, I have not spoken to anybody who regretted making their application to Oxbridge. You fall behind on schoolwork, you lose some free time, and anxiety invades many of your waking moments, but the opportunity to pursue wholeheartedly a subject that you love absolutely, supported by teachers who are world experts in their respective fields, is a remarkable thing.

When people around the bubble of Oundle talk to you about your privilege, this is a large part of what they are referring to. We are so lucky to have the Oxbridge support that we have here: we are coached and encouraged and led to the water and, if you are thirsty, I would strongly advise you to drink. If not, shoot for somewhere else: you don’t need to sit an entrance exam to be intelligent, but in its own crazy way, it’s great fun to give it a try. To apply, or not to apply. That is the question

Navigating rejection: Finding resilience and renewed purpose

By Sophia Zou (W U6)

In January, the crisp winter air did little to dampen the shock when I received the rejection letter from my dream university. At first, the news didn’t register emotionally; it felt like just another piece of correspondence. However, as the days unfolded, a wave of sadness crept in and settled over me for the remainder of the week. I found myself jealous of others who had been successful in their applications. They had secured offers from prestigious universities that many aspire to, even for the most competitive courses.

Contemplating the effort invested in all aspects of my application throughout the past year, and the subsequent knowledge expansion leading up to the interview, it was disheartening to feel like all the hard work had somehow turned out to be useless. To summarise briefly, my meticulously planned academic endeavour resulted in the institution declaring ‘NO’, with perfunctory-sounding reasons such as ‘we are full’; ‘there are other candidates more suitable than you’; or ‘the course is very competitive due to the increase in applicants every year’. It stings. It is possible that people tend to remember the achievements of successful applicants, often overlooking the significant efforts put in by those who faced rejection. Ultimately, I felt like I just hadn’t performed well enough and I thought that others saw the gap between me and the others, who were accepted.

As I reflected on the journey from the initial shock of rejection, a realisation began to emerge: despite the initial wave of sadness, time had brought subtle yet significant changes in my perspective. Surveying my emotional progress, it became apparent that I had acquired valuable insights on dealing with the disappointment of rejection, which gained me newfound resilience and a more nuanced understanding of navigating life’s inevitable setbacks.

In the event of facing rejection, it’s important to remember that you are not alone in your experience. Being rejected is such a commonplace occurrence, and the ensuing emotions of sadness, anxiety, jealousy, are undoubtedly normal. Moreover, expressing frustration at the perceived ‘unfairnesses’ of the situation is completely valid. However, embracing the necessity of bidding farewell to past dreams is also crucial for progression. Allow yourself the time to say goodbye to your dream university – a dream that used to carry profound significance!

As the Cambridge results day approached, I stumbled upon this captivating mind map shared by an applicant on social media.

While this is not entirely serious, making a similar mind map for myself made me recognise that, regardless of the outcome, there will always be a solution to deal with the problem. One setback does not signify perpetual doom for the entirety of your life. Instead, it marks the beginning of a new chapter—a chance to progress to the next stage, armed with renewed strength and determination to persist in your aspirations.

Many individuals find that diverting their attention to new endeavours helps alleviate the disappointment of rejection. One of my friends, Danny, was waitlisted by all of his top university choices. Despite this setback, he redirected his focus towards his passion for drama. He eventually enrolled in his second-choice university, immersed himself in Theatre Studies and became a staff member at Broadway Theatre a few months ago; now, he is actively working towards his dream of becoming a director. His journey serves as a powerful reminder that rejection does not equate to failure. Instead, it can pave the way for unexpected opportunities and personal fulfillment.

Rejection also does not signify the end of one’s ambitions. J K Rowling encountered numerous rejections before finding success with the Harry Potter series. Despite this adversity, she persisted in pursuing her passion for storytelling. Her unwavering dedication and perseverance ultimately led to her becoming one of the most successful authors of all time. As long as you possess a clear passion or vision for your future endeavours, and remain flexible, they can be accomplished anywhere.

‘What we have concluded from past experience is that it does not matter which university a pupil enters, but what matters is his growth in the next four years’ – Harvard University. Of course, these dream universities are amazing, but it is crucial to remember that the optimal environment for your growth and development may not align with the expectations cultivated through reading brochures. In conclusion, then, for those grappling with rejection, I advise reframing the experience as an opportunity for personal growth and resilience. The worst part is over. No more pulling all-nighters to write personal statements or anxiously refreshing your mailbox. Feel free to vent your emotions and accept the outcome. Nothing can define who you are. Instead, the power lies within your hands to actively determine the person you aspire to become through deliberate actions. While the path forward may not always be easy, it is through facing challenges head-on and maintaining a resilient mindset that true growth and fulfilment are achieved.

“Instead, it marks the beginning of a new chapter — a chance to progress to the next stage, armed with renewed strength and determination to persist in your aspirations.”

A guide to History Society talks 2023-2024

By Edward Barlow (B L6)

Throughout the year, Oundle has been exceptionally lucky to host an extensive programme of speakers for the Senior History Society, including names such as Marc Morris, well known for his television production Castles and his writing on medieval England; Dr. John Leigh, who, as well as being a specialist in modern and medieval languages, is quite an authority when it comes to Voltaire, upon whom his talk was based; Professor Jeremy Black, whose talk focused on the Holocaust and European anti-Semitism; Dominic Sandbrook, co-host of the popular podcast The Rest Is History, and writer on modern history; and Professor Andrew Pettegree, old Oundelian and expert on the European reformation and the history of media.

Doctor Marc Morris

In his talk on Edward the Confessor, Dr Morris placed a focus primarily on assessing the opinions of previous historians on the subject, most notably Frank Barlow. He did this by addressing the question of to what extent Edward the Confessor had power over his own affairs during his reign, which was dominated by the powerful Godwin family. He also provided an insight into the motivation behind Edward’s most controversial action, that being his supposed offering of the English crown to both William of Normandy and Harold Godwinson, which Barlow believes was a pragmatic decision in order to gain support and allies. However, Dr Morris argued that Edward was simply a weak king who was almost entirely under the control of the powerful Godwin faction, excluding his brief period of freedom in 1051, at which point he may have offered the crown to William of Normandy, but the return of Godwin less than a year later meant that his brief period of relative freedom was over, and due to his lack of children, which Dr Morris believes can be explained by his celibacy,

Earl Godwin’s son, Harold, was able to take the throne, therefore setting the scene for the Battle of Hastings to occur.

Doctor John Leigh

Aimed at both the Senior History and Russian Societies, Dr Leigh explored the relationship between Voltaire and Russia while also providing an outline of Voltaire’s life before going to Russia, explaining, for example, his relationship with Frederick the Great of Prussia, his brief stint in the Bastille during his younger years, his eventual exile from France, and the primary reasons for his fame: his highly modern ideas of secular tolerance and his hugely successful tragedies and epic poems.

Dr Leigh’s talk focused on Voltaire’s attitudes towards Russia, most notably his belief that Russia ought to ‘modernise’ along western lines, an opinion that contrasted heavily with that of his ‘rival’, Rousseau, who believed that a premature attempt to civilise Russia would not be successful.

Dr Leigh also drew attention to Voltaire’s writing of the History of Peter the Great, Emperor of Russia, and the contrast of this work, which is partially a piece of propaganda commissioned by Catherine the Great, with another of Voltaire’s high-profile biographies based upon Charles XII of Sweden, who was Peter the Great’s primary opponent throughout the Great Northern War.

Professor Jeremy Black

Professor Jeremy Black gave a slightly unorthodox view of the Holocaust, outlining the fact that it was certainly not only a phenomenon of Nazi Germany, but rather the vast majority of European countries during the period, which acted either as

allies or client states to Germany at certain times during the war. The more significant of these nations include Romania, which, led by the wartime dictator Antonescu, perpetrated a vicious holocaust, resulting in the deaths of over four hundred thousand Jews. A similar instance could be seen in occupied France, where the roundup of Jews was carried out primarily by local French officials and police officers, resulting in the deaths of roughly one-quarter of France’s Jewish population.

He also outlined forcefully the role that the First World War played in causing a further increase in European anti-Semitism through the dissolution of four of the primary European empires, the Russian, Austrian, German, and Ottoman, and the idea that the boundaries of nations should be constructed around single ethnic groups, thus leading to the shunting of ‘outsider’ groups, such as the Jews and Armenians, across borders.

Professor Black then went on to show how the view that anti-Semitism was only a feature of the Nazi party developed in the post-WW2 world, with many European governments throughout the latter period of the twentieth century generally ignoring the fact that their nation had taken part in the Holocaust, as happened in France, or even began to glorify the figures of the Holocaust, as happened with Antonescu in Romania, who was seen by anti-communist partisans as a martyr against the new communist regime backed by the USSR.

The second point referred to by Professor Black was the fact that the ‘final solution’ was never considered the inevitable end by the Nazi party and Hitler, and that although the intention to make Germany entirely ‘Jew Free’ existed from the outset, the timetable and the means to achieve this goal remained unclear; these developed over time, eventually resulting in the ‘final solution’ that occurred in the later years of Hitler’s regime.

Dominic Sandbrook

We were extremely lucky to host Dominic Sandbrook, who co-chairs the popular historical podcast The Rest Is History, as a speaker during the Lent Term, carrying out a Q&A for the History Society and the wider Oundle community, in which he answered a wide range of questions relating to his own historical research and his journey to becoming a historian, the development of his podcast, and other general historical questions. From this Q&A, we were able to gain an insight into the development of The Rest Is History podcast, with one audience member asking whether there were any topics ‘too sensitive to discuss’ on the podcast. The answer was a definite no, on the grounds that when discussing history, we must avoid backing away from ‘hot topics.’

Mr Sandbrook also addressed questions concerning his views on history as a subject on the whole, most notably in his answer to the question ‘what is the most significant misconception concerning history?’ This focused on the view that many people today, when reviewing history, make the flawed assumption that figures from the

past think and view the world in the same way we do today, using the example of slavery within the Roman Empire, which at the time was considered to be an entirely normal and reasonable occurrence but which is totally rejected by society today. Possibly most interesting of all were his views on counter-factual evidence, or ‘what if’ evidence, which he said had been entirely disparaged by certain historians, such as Richard Evans. However, Mr Sandbrook takes the view that although when used excessively, counter-factual evidence is a waste of time, considering it does allow one to gain a more thorough understanding of many historical questions, especially those relating to the causes of a certain event. It allows one to imagine the possible scenarios that might have arisen had that event not occurred and therefore, its wider relevance and impact on other contemporary and later events.

Professor Andrew Pettegree

For the final talk of the year, we were fortunate enough to have Professor Andrew Pettegree, Old Oundelian and Professor of History at St Andrews University. Professor Pettegree has written and researched on

“WHEN DISCUSSING HISTORY, WE MUST AVOID BACKING AWAY FROM ‘HOT TOPICS.’”

an extremely broad range of historical topics, specialising in the European Reformation during the Sixteenth Century, the development of media and advertising, as well as the topic of this talk, the effect of war on the publishing and reading of books. This talk focused primarily on the effect of the Second World War on various different aspects of the book industry, including the changes that occurred in the publishing industry; the importance of libraries during the war; the significance of books within prisoner of war camps; the changes in the lives of authors and readers; and the importance of reading and writing among statesmen during the war. He ended by showing how these effects can also be seen during the war in Ukraine today, including the suppression of books written in Russian and the destruction of Russian books in Ukraine, as well as the wrecking of over 300 libraries in Ukraine.

These points given by Professor Pettegree help to show the upheaval of not only the book industry, as seen through the publishing and censorship difficulties during the Second World War, but also the change in the daily reading habits of most people, evident through the example used by Professor Pettegree of the war diarist Nella Last. Before the War she read a huge amount, but was unable to do so during the War due to the increased obligations of those on the home front, including the need to queue for food, start a vegetable garden, care for the elderly, and also assist at the local Red Cross branch. The opposite was true for those in prisoner of war camps, who, having been supplied books by various organisations such as the YMCA, generally read a considerable amount, with one example, who was apparently a ‘slow reader,’ having read 350 books over the five years he was in the camp. Professor Pettegree ended by outlining the importance of books among the statesmen of the Second World War, including Churchill, who was awarded a Nobel Prize for literature after the War; Hitler, whose ideological book Mein Kampf became widely circulated; and Stalin, who in his youth aimed to be an academic. However, said Professor Pettegree, all these literary successes pale in comparison to Chairman Mao, with the circulation of over one billion copies of his Little Red Book

Altogether, we have been extremely fortunate, thanks to the organisation of Mr Robinson, with the range of talks, all by such fantastic speakers, which have been enjoyed not just by those studying History, but also many others from around the School and the Oundle community at large. We await with bated breath next year’s talks, all of which I have no doubt will continue this trend.

Listen and learn?

By Chelsie Chen (D U6)

Throughout history, people have been interested by the fundamental connection between music and learning, recognizing its importance in cognitive functioning and productivity. Music’s rhythmic patterns, compelling melodies, and emotional depth improve several areas of the learning process, including focus, memory, mood, and stress management. This long-standing association has prompted a lot of study into how different musical genres impact academic performance

Researchers have made some important discoveries about music’s behavioural effects and impact on task performance. First, music has behavioural implications, with individual preferences playing a significant role; strong likes or dislikes can have a negative influence on one’s productivity. Also, the intensity of the music and its genre might affect focus and task performance. For example, strong music like hip-hop may be more distracting than softer classical music. Interestingly, while listening to music before a test has been found to improve attentiveness, music during an exam can cause inconsistent attention levels. Background music has been shown to increase worker happiness and productivity in workplaces, while music with lyrics can hinder attention.

The Mozart Effect is one of the most well-known theories about the influence of music on cognitive capacities. It suggests that listening to classical music, specifically pieces by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, might temporarily improve spatial thinking capabilities. Rauscher et al. conducted research in 1993 that helped to popularise this notion. In this study, participants listened to Mozart’s Sonata

for Two Pianos (K448) for ten minutes before doing spatial reasoning tasks, which resulted in an increase in spatial-temporal performance when compared to periods of quiet. However, the impact lasted barely 10-15 minutes. It is worth noting that the study used a limited sample size of only 36 teenage volunteers, which may restrict its application to a broader population. Nonetheless, researchers are drawn to this phenomenon, doing numerous studies to establish its existence, with some supporting evidence. One such piece of evidence comes from a study of pre-school children who had six months of music lessons and showed more than a 30% gain in spatial-temporal reasoning when compared to those who had computer courses or no instruction. They performed Beethoven and Mozart melodies and displayed enhanced thinking for up to 24 hours after the lesson, which could impact an increase in arithmetic abilities, demonstrating a possibility for longer-term benefit.

Researchers have worked diligently to identify specific elements of Mozart’s music that leads to the Mozart Effect. They discovered characteristics such as repetition of patterns and intervals, and a preference for certain notes like G3 (196 Hz), C5 (523 Hz), and B5 (987 Hz). Music with these characteristics, whether composed by Mozart, Bach, or another composer, has shown the ability to improve spatial-temporal performance. These findings underscore the vital importance of specific musical characteristics in improving cognitive performance, highlighting the necessity for more research into the Mozart Effect and the implications it has.

The brain’s processing of both music

and spatial imaging may be critical in understanding how music influences spatial thinking. Advanced brain imaging methods, such as positron emission tomography (PET) and functional magnetic resonance scanning, demonstrate how the brain responds to music. While the primary auditory area is often located in the temporal gyrus, different components of music processing involve other brain areas. For example, rhythm and pitch stimulate the left hemisphere, but timbre and melody processing engage the right. The prefrontal, temporal, and praecuneus areas of the brain are recruited during music processing, as well as those involved in mental imagery skills such as spatial thinking. This shows that listening to music may engage brain regions important for spatial cognition, hence simplifying complicated spatial tasks. The significant link between music and

cognitive functioning combines musical skill with intricate brain function. As researchers continue to investigate this area, more insights regarding music’s varied impact on the human mind are expected to emerge.

The Mozart Effect has not only been shown to have a temporary effect on task performance; it has also been shown to have a significant effect on patients with epilepsy. In a study of epilepsy patients, listening to Mozart’s piano sonata K448 resulted in a substantial reduction in

epileptic activity in 23 of 29 individuals with certain brain patterns. For example, one patient’s seizure activity decreased from 62% to 21% when listening to music. Another two individuals who had continuous seizure activity saw a rapid decrease in activity levels after listening to the music. Even a comatose patient improved, indicating that music appreciation is not required for the Mozart Effect to occur. In a separate research project, an eight-year-old child with severe

“The significant link between music and cognitive functioning combines musical skill with intricate brain function.”

epilepsy listened to Mozart’s sonata every ten minutes for every hour she was awake. By the end of the day, her number of seizures had fallen from nine to one, as had the length of epileptic activity. The next day, the number of seizures was reduced to two. However, the musical characteristics of Mozart’s work that produced this impact require additional investigation.

Regardless of your musical choices, I believe the most important thing is to engage and activate your brain. This may be accomplished with any style of music that speaks to you. However, music with lyrics might be distracting, especially if you need to focus on text. In reality, it does not have to be music; anything that increases your awareness is enough. The idea is to wake up your mind and improve your focus, whether by physical exercises such as star jumps or just drinking a cup of coffee.

WORDS & PICTURES

Soraya Fleming (W 5)

Ben Young (L 5)

Peace on High

Alexander Rendell (Ldr 3)

When will the fields be clean, The mud and the sludge cake us like fudge This Christmas will be fun they said. This winter will not be stained with the glorious Blood, Of the enemies who choke the fields like snow, The faces you knew gone to the wind. Vacant as December days of bitter cold, No angel will come from above. No godly figure will make the peace. This world of hell incarnates will Always be in darkness, No heavenly babe will herald the end, The only end is down to the rifle, the pain We gladly cause brother to brother, Race to race.

No peace will be felt this Christmas, The only upheaval will come from the guns, And the fiery fields of Ukraine.

Eleni Marten (D 4)

Jemima Childs (D U6)

'Votive' – a collective piece by the Third Form

Sara Gunning (D U6)

Break time

Two poems based on Full Moon and Little Frieda, by Ted Hughes

A loud mystical morning shrivelled

To the noises of crunching wrapping paper

And all the morning gossip

And you listening

Dry, autumn leaves crunching under heavy footsteps

Shimmering icicles glimmering in the sun’s radiant light

A dew drop’s splash on the dry crackled ground.

Cooked dough on a metal rack

Heavenly smells miraculously fill the air

A pack of hungry wolves come for their treat

As they prepare to feast you shout ‘Bear, it’s a bear’.

A beastly bear oh no

Turns out it’s just little coconut

Finding its way around a forest Of giants.

Jonathan

Ogunmwonyi (By 1)

A loud calm morning shrunk to overlapping chatter and the rustle of pages being turned And you listening.

The smell of cookies, fresh from the oven, everyone stops.

Then the quiet of the study room, muffling the background chatter, inviting you to sink into the Embrace of the sofa and turn the page.

The people are going to lessons now, a hustle of backpacks and bodies, A river of confusion, many waterfalls, balancing undone homework.

‘Cookies!’ you cry suddenly, ‘The cookies!’

Then the cookies come, a silver domed platter, People stop and stare.

Isobel Puthucheary (Sco 1)

4)

Freddie Kemp (F L6)

Grace Ratchford (Sr

Swans

The comic tone of swans’ calls, strangely sad –As almost close as almost far away. I heard them as the afternoon collapsed: One a brief of shadow to the other, Flying Westward on chlorinous air In heavy coloured sky, before the rain.

Nathan Raudnitz (Sr U6)

Jemima Childs (D U6)

Gabriella Todd (D 5)

Ann-Mary Latsanych (K U6)

Gitanjali Singh (N 5)

Jemima Childs (D U6)

in the iridescencemorning of the elms (…)

Tsz Ching Cheung, (L U6)

A translation of ‘Na matinal iridiscência dos ulmeiros (…)’ by Rui Cóias

A few light taps upon the pane made him turn to the window. It had begun to snow again. He watched sleepily the flakes, silver and dark, falling obliquely against the lamplight. The time had come for him to set out on his journey westward. Yes, the newspapers were right: snow was general all over Ireland. It was falling on every part of the dark central plain, on the treeless hills, falling softly upon the Bog of Allen and, farther westward, softly falling into the dark mutinous Shannon waves. It was falling, too, upon every part of the lonely churchyard on the hill where Michael Furey lay buried. It lay thickly drifted on the crooked crosses and headstones, on the spears of the little gate, on the barren thorns. His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead.

James Joyce, The Dead in the morning iridescence of the elms, between tomorrow and yesterday, between the willow forests and the languor of november, the leaves and the land yearn for the inanimate skies, as they did in connemara, leaving custody in the form of yews – roots clutching the air-turned-darkness clambering over a nature colder than the wind iridescent along the edges, like death under its shadow’s shadow from year to year, over faces, under footsteps from year to year, solemnly faint, the ghost of all beginnings. then comes winter with its uncertain undulations – winter behind glass leaving wayward rifts in the distance with blue snow poised between two hands pouring out its inundated existence and the year weaves around the heath again, unfurling like a white scarf under plaids of white roses over the grange’s pavilions, unfurling in ivy clamour just to leave, hirsute, sparse, treading the crater of brown, the thin, flickering passage of those who live and those who die.

Amelie Sathe (Sr 4)

Lily Nagy (N 5)

FEATURES

Oliver Boon (Sc 5)

Is it time for the next Romantic age?

By Nathan Raudnitz (Sr U6)

It’s strange, the way history repeats itself.

I read a seriously good book recently. Coleridge, by Richard Holmes: a two-volume biography of the poet, Samuel Taylor Coleridge. Holmes’ style is entirely immersive – as intricate and precise as mathematics but not remotely cold. Early Visions headed the first volume; the second, Darker Reflections. Both were profoundly moving to read, very much like one of Coleridge’s own works – that strange mixture of extraordinary zeal and creative energy, with the sudden sensation of loneliness on a dark and wild expanse. For a moment, I felt involved in the life of S T Coleridge. We caught the power of a revolution across the Channel: a soon free republic of France. We clambered through the fells of the Lake District, where I watched the sun creep over Derwent Water, and gently warm the slopes of Scafell Pike. It was hard to be there with him, at times, to watch him drop miles down into opiate sleeps, neglecting his work under crushing doses of laudanum (up to two pints per day in his later years), and tortured by crippling hellish nightmares. He was drawn on strong currents to a place with caves of ice, far away. Over 200 years ago, and there I was.

There were moments, though, when I found myself uncomfortably close to home.

The gap between the wealthy and the poor in society was wide in the 1790s. A very rich and powerful upper-class took what they wanted and left the rest. This sounds archaic: now we are better than this. We care about each other, don’t we?

Cast your mind back to the more recent past, 2020, when Britain was hit by the first wave of COVID-19. People were dying – loved and happy people. People also died, who were sad and alone. We were isolated from the world outside, as the NHS took on a heavier strain than ever before. We clapped and banged pots, and donated when we could. So did our then Prime Minister, Boris Johnson, clearly forgetting for a moment the decades-long Tory campaign to withdraw funding from the health service, running the system into the ground to convince the public of the

wonders of privatisation. For everybody, it was a very tense and scary time… Well, mostly everybody. As we now know, our then Prime Minister was holding boozefuelled parties at Number 10; our health secretary was not adhering to his own social distancing rules, and a £203m private PPE contract simply disappeared in a puff of smoke.

We now know where that went, too. The party decided to entrust a previously un-incorporated business (PPE Medpro) with this £203m PPE contract. At the grace of the House of Lords’ ‘VIP list’, the business was established quickly by Lord Agnew and Michelle Mone. It was established for the purposes of the contract. Consequently, the pair walked away with at least £65m in profit and reportedly proceeded to purchase, among other assets, an £80,000 racehorse, a super-yacht, and a private jet. Disappeared in a puff of cigar smoke, perhaps.

William Pitt the Younger was Prime Minister when Coleridge began to write, a conservative man in every sense, from a highly privileged background. I shall hand over to Coleridge for the details, as published in The Morning Post:

“William Pitt was the younger son of Lord Chatham; a fact of no ordinary importance in the solution of his character, of no mean significance in the heraldry of morals and intellect… He acquired a premature and un-natural dexterity in the combination of words [trained into him by ambitious parents], which must of necessity have diverted his attention from present objects, obscured his impressions, and deadened his genuine feeling… A being who had had no feelings connected with man or nature… no genuine science, nothing that constitutes individuality in intellect, nothing that teaches brotherly affection! Such was the man – such, and so denaturalised the spirit, on whose wisdom and philanthropy the lives and living enjoyments of so many millions of human beings were made unavoidably dependant!”

(Coleridge, Character of Mr Pitt, 1800).

I wish that such a character felt unfamiliar but unfortunately, we all know this man,

living and breathing in 2024. Some months ago, he declared openly that he had ‘started the work of undoing’ the formulae of previous governments ‘that shoved all the funding into deprived urban areas’. The Sunday Times Rich List suggests that with an estimated net worth of £530m, he is the single richest Prime Minister our country has ever seen, and personally more ‘comfortable’ than Charles III, King of England. Unfortunately, he has appeared quietly after a string of loud mouths, and consequently appears dignified in his silence. Under the surface, though occasionally peeking up through the press, he has re-opened discussions on a bill, which would allow planes full of terrified immigrants from war-torn countries to be instantly shipped to Rwanda. He is human, yet without empathy; knowledgeable, yet chronically unwise.

There is a marked similarity in the style of thought which ruled Coleridge’s early life, and now rules our own. Look around you. We are witnesses to huge advancements in science and technology in our lifetime –artificial intelligence, electric and driverless cars – bizarre forays into private space travel and interplanetary flight. When Coleridge was around, the Enlightenment had brought reason into fashion. Scientific rules governed all; God began to fade into obscurity, and the empirical decrees of Newton, Bacon, Hartley, and Locke reigned supreme. But at what cost?

Music, dance, performing arts, art and design. These are all important, we agree? They stimulate the imagination; they are social and connective; they are bases of cultural identity, and recently, the government funding for each of these subjects was slashed in half at universities across the country. The decision came from within the government: that the money for the arts should be lopped in two, the lion’s share fed to the science sector. This was a decision shot through with the prejudices of our leaders, who seem only to see value when it is measured in pound sterling. The courses were defined as ‘low earning’ and, therefore, deemed unimportant. Must the ‘worth’ of a job be measured by its salary? Personally, I think not. But if you believe it should, there is this: the arts industry in 2019 alone contributed £10.8billion to the UK economy and created over 350,000 jobs (‘value added per worker’ at £62,000, compared to £46,800 in the wider economy, according to an Arts Council England report). This was an attack on the creative identity of the UK.

During the Enlightenment, a similar subjugation of all such things deemed ‘unnecessary’ arose, until a moment in the 1790s, when our friend Coleridge appeared: a time now referred to as ‘Romantic’.

Before ‘Romantic’ is defined, it is important to mention that in spite of my having gone political, my intention is not to alienate or divide; only to criticise where there has been broad and public and clear injustice. Romanticism is not a strictly political concept, nor am I on a political crusade. Competitive radicalism at both ends of the spectrum is destroying our sense of measure, and warping our perceptions of truth and reasonable action, as we become increasingly divided and extreme, and less willing to compromise.

Coleridge recognised this issue in his own time. Britain was becoming violently polarised in its views, as The Reign of Terror and Napoleon’s empire turned sour many steadfasts of the radical left. Meanwhile, the elite Whig government stirred the proletariat into a murderous frenzy – PM Spencer Percival (PM from 1809-1812) was assassinated during a revolution of the workers, perhaps the nearest Britain ever came to a communist revolution. Early blood-and-sweat supporters of French liberty were appalled by its imperial expansion and swung, enraged, towards the stable Nationalism of the political right. William Wordsworth and the poet-laureate, Robert Southey, took up government

positions in middle-age. Others stuck to their guns on the left, as a new generation of fiery youths, such as leading critic, William Hazlitt, made cutting criticisms of all those who had abandoned the cause.

Coleridge returned from a long sojourn in the Mediterranean and saw total chaos. He was torn apart in the press by the hot guns of Hazlitt (formerly one of Coleridge’s greatest admirers); he was rejected by Wordsworth and Southey, with whom he had lived and written in the Lake District through their most inspired years. His devastation radiated off the pages. Coleridge wanted to be unitive, rather than divisive; to be critical, yes – but creative, rather than destructive. He contributed editorials to right-wing newspapers to earn a living, but simultaneously campaigned for workers’ rights, and made major contributions to the abolishment of the slave trade. By this point in his life, though, decimated by opium and debt, he was lost

“IT’S STRANGE, THE WAY HISTORY REPEATS ITSELF.”

when it came to the raving world of politics. But Coleridge’s Romanticism stayed alive. ‘Romantic’. Some of you may be confused. I’m not talking about When Harry Met Sally – not that kind of romantic, though the world would be a better place if we had all seen this film: “I came here tonight because when you realise you wanna spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible!” Nor am I talking about the 80s-pop kind of romantic, with the eyeliner and the dandy fashion, though it is important to note that ridicule is nothing to be scared of. I mean the Romantic period – a time during which a new set of individuals, sick of being trodden down by the institutional rejection of mystery and wonder, made themselves known. Taking to the page were the likes of our S T Coleridge, William Wordsworth, John Keats, Percy Shelley, and George Byron. This was a period of art dedicated to the strange sensation of being; to feeling the exceptional tension of a brief existence, and to acknowledging both the beauty and the pain of our lives as fleeting things. I believe that this is an appreciation we have begun to lose, as the threat of cataclysm brews in the changing climate. We seem to be so scared of living our last seconds that we focus instead on the smooth edges of currency markings, to take our minds off the pain. What do you do? I make money. How much? Never enough. Make, make, make, manifest, and produce. ‘You’re living life wrongly; you should live like this – on my course, you’ll learn how to live in a dreamworld of strange and false ideals, and this will make you happy.’

It’s hard to imagine, as we watch the true celebration of nice things fade in our age before our eyes, but maybe we can find a way to ‘save the day’. Are the greatest scientists not those who are most imaginative? Are the painters most revered not those who catch the fleeting rhythms of ambiguity in feeling and sense, and condense them into something visible, preserved with a constancy comparable only to fact? Maybe it is time for a New Romantic age, in which science and mystery are again, duly, fused. Like atoms combined, they will create new energy. There is something here worth treasuring. Let’s not be responsible for losing it twice.

I have lost Beauties and feelings, such as would have been Most sweet to my remembrance even when age Had dimm’d mine eyes to blindness!

This Lime-tree Bower my Prison

Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Embracing introversion: Unlocking untapped potential in a world of extroversion

By William Davidson (Sr 5)

In a society that celebrates the outgoing, the talkative, and the socially adept, introverts often find themselves swimming against the current. Susan Cain, an American author who wrote Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking, made the insightful observation that, ‘The bias against introversion leads to a colossal waste of talent, energy, and happiness.’ These words resonate deeply, shedding light on a pervasive issue that affects individuals, workplaces, and communities worldwide.

Consider this: how many introverts do you know who have shaped the world we live in today? Perhaps you’d be surprised to learn that the list includes luminaries such as Albert Einstein, Rosa Parks and Queen Elizabeth II. Yet, despite the undeniable contributions of introverts throughout history, their strengths are frequently overshadowed by societal preferences for extroverted qualities.

From an early age, we’re conditioned to believe that being sociable and outgoing equates to popularity and success. Western business culture, in particular, often rewards extroverted behaviours such as decisiveness, teamwork, and assertiveness. The bias against introversion is palpable, and its consequences are profound, affecting everything from career advancement to mental wellbeing.

As an introvert myself, I’ve experienced first-hand the challenges of navigating a world that values extroversion. A vivid memory comes to mind: at a friend’s bustling birthday party, I found solace in a quiet corner, immersed in the pages of

a book. It was there that I met another introvert, someone who shared my appreciation for moments of solitude amidst the social whirlwind. This encounter underscored the importance of recognising and honouring diverse communication styles and preferences.

Introverts bring a wealth of talents and strengths to the table, including deep analytical thinking, creativity, and a penchant for detail-oriented tasks. Their ability to listen attentively fosters meaningful connections, while their introspective nature often leads to innovative solutions to complex problems. Yet, despite these invaluable qualities, introverts are often overlooked or marginalised in favour of their more outgoing counterparts.

Research indicates that introverts are more likely to experience anxiety disorders and other mental health challenges compared to extroverts. The pressure to conform to extroverted norms can be stifling, leading to stress, exhaustion, and a sense of inadequacy. It’s time to recognize

the toll of this bias and take proactive steps to address it.

Education and awareness are essential in challenging societal norms and promoting inclusivity. Workplaces and institutions must adopt flexible approaches that accommodate the needs of introverted individuals, whether it’s through designated quiet spaces, diverse communication styles, or a culture of inclusivity and respect. By valuing introversion as much as extroversion, we unlock the full potential of every individual, enriching our communities and societies in the process.

In conclusion, the bias against introversion perpetuates a cycle of untapped talent, wasted energy, and diminished happiness. It’s incumbent upon us to challenge this bias and create a world where introverts are valued for their unique contributions. By embracing introversion and fostering environments that support diverse personalities, we honour the richness of human potential and pave the way for a more inclusive and equitable future.

“The bias against introversion leads to a colossal waste of talent, energy, and happiness.”

Is the

over-representation

of privately educated MPs within UK politics an issue which needs immediate solving?

By Edward Barlow (B L6)

Within Britain, there has been, and continues to be, a political elite which finds its origins disproportionately within the private education system. This has been clearly evident throughout history, seeming to have entrenched itself within British political society, through the period of Pitt and Fox, to the Victorian titans of Salisbury and Gladstone, and modern figures such as Blair and Johnson. This continuing link between wealth and leadership can also be seen in many other traditional British institutions, notably the British army, which maintained the archaic system of purchasing commissions nearly half a century after its abandonment by other major European nations, although this system did provide us with many of our military ‘greats’ such as Arthur Wellesley, the future Duke of Wellington. However, this trend, considered by many to point towards an old fashioned, backward view of British society, seems to have persisted within our political system, with a hugely disproportionate number of ministers and party leaders being educated at private schools, and more significantly, boarding schools. This alternate, but not necessarily dysfunctional system of politics shows to some the inherent ‘unfairness’ of British society and to others the more traditional and functional side of British culture, through the focus on basic academic achievement, and a more thorough knowledge of certain skills that many gain while enrolled at private school.

The prevalence of privilege within British politics can be seen most acutely in the leadership of the two primary parties, with four of the past ten Prime Ministers having attended some form of feepaying school. The question remains however, whether this overrepresentation negatively affects the government, and by extension the running of the nation. One could argue that this is a basic issue with the UK’s democracy, as many voters who attended non-feepaying schools remain under-represented within Parliament, while a fraction of the population that numbers no more than six percent is represented in parliament by twenty-nine percent of MPs. This shows to some the unfair makeup of parliament, as the majority remain under-represented and as a result their issues may not be successfully addressed. Others feel that this disparity, rather than being a relic from a bygone era, is an unpleasant necessity, as it cannot be ignored that private schools do boast a third more As and A*s at A Level; however, one must also consider that many private schools are selective, and this skews the statistic to a certain extent. This trend continues into university, with an average of thirty percent of those studying at either Oxford or Cambridge having previously attended a private school. The mixture of the perceived prestige of these universities, their strong tradition of debating and public speaking at their respective unions, and the confidence and contacts gained there, and the over-representation of privately educated pupils at Oxbridge then results in there being a rather disproportionate number of MPs having attended private schools. However, especially in modern times, there has been growing concern about the effect that private school, more specifically boarding school, has on the mental health of many pupils, leading

to the coining of the term ‘boarding school syndrome.’ This theory, in rather simplified terms, states that due to a premature separation from parents, many children fail to develop emotionally, in some cases leading to an almost complete lack of empathy within these boarding-school alumni. This idea is utilised by many to explain away the various political woes of the past decades, arguing that due to the so-called ‘boarding school syndrome,’ many of our leading politicians and political advisors have perhaps become too far removed from the reality faced by the British population. However, some, myself included, would argue that boarding school succeeds entirely in its traditional aim, that being to stimulate independence as well as developing maturity in pupils who require prompting, necessitating the development of social and communication skills among children, an attribute which acts as the basis for many future occupations, with politics being among those to which these skills are most relevant.

Therefore, it can be safely concluded that, although it is entirely factual that there is a considerable over-representation of the privately educated working within politics, it is a purely subjective argument that this system, so often referred to as being ‘obsolete,’ does indeed lead to the less effective governing of the nation, with there being little to no evidence, outside isolated instances of ‘boarding school syndrome,’ that the modern boarding school system causes mental issues among children. Therefore one can go as far as to say that, although the trend of private and boarding school over-representation can be considered to be rather old fashioned, one could take the opinion that MPs should be judged primarily upon whether they are suited for the position, a judgment which is taken entirely by the voters within their constituency, and that it is the duty of no one other than the electorate to interfere with the election of an MP based upon his or her previous record of education. There may come a time when Parliament is truly representative when it comes to the educational background of members of parliament, however, it is clear that this matter does not require unconstitutional intervention that determines who can or cannot become an MP, and that it must be addressed through gradual societal change rather than through radical action.

"The question remains however, whether this over-representation negatively affects the government, and by extension the running of the nation."

The Met Gala 2024 sleeping beauties: Reawakening fashion

By Faisal Folarin (StA 5)

On 6 May 2024, the annual ‘Met Gala’ at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York will be taking place.

What is the Met Gala?

The ‘Met Gala’ (short for the Metropolitan Museum of Art Costume Institute Gala) was founded in 1948 by American publicist Eleanor Lambert to raise money and increase publicity about the newly established Costume Institute at the Metropolitan Museum. What was initially a relatively small gathering of people in the fashion industry, drawing fashions from the notable ateliers of the time, such as the minimalistic elegance of 1940s era Lanvin or Coco Chanel, grew quickly into the most important event in the fashion calendar, well known for the extravagant themes and A-list celebrity attendees.

Since 1973, the event has been held every year on the first Monday in May (to coincide with the Costume Institute’s opening) at the Metropolitan Museum, with paparazzi lined up on each side of the iconic ‘Met Steps’ as celebrities walk up the carpet, usually draped in a colour representative of the theme. They are dressed in a variety of different fashion houses and labels, eager to put their designs on display at the biggest night out in fashion. Previous themes include ‘Camp: Notes on Fashion’ in 2019 – a nod to American writer, Susan Sontag’s famous essay on an ideal and aesthetic she described as ‘love of the unnatural: of artifice and exaggeration.’ Attendees flocked to the red carpet in their most ‘camp’ designs, dressed in anything and everything extravagant: ostrich feathers, tulle, lamé. In 2018, the theme was ‘Heavenly Bodies: Fashion and the Catholic Imagination’, and featured a display of ecclesiastical garments which highlighted the significant impact of religious and liturgical vestments on the fashion industry. Diamond crosses and Michaelangelo-inspired motifs were a favourite amongst the attendees and designers. The exhibit itself featured 150 garments from designers such as Coco Chanel (who was educated by nuns), and Alexander McQueen’s freakish religious designs.

However, the theme of the 2024 Met Gala will be ‘Sleeping Beauties: Reawakening Fashion’.

What does this mean?

The theme ‘Sleeping Beauties’ will explore forgotten garments and historical pieces of fashion, spanning over 400 years of history. The focal point of the exhibition will be fragile garments and dormant dresses that are too delicate to be worn (including archival pieces from classic fashion houses such as Yves Saint Laurent, Coco Chanel, Elsa Schiaparelli, Christian Dior, Hubert de Givenchy), which will be showcased at the exhibition. Costume institute curator, Andrew Bolton, explained in his annual Met announcement that fifteen such fragile pieces are going to be displayed in the exhibition. It is also said that the exhibition will feature an Elizabethan bodice as well as an 1887 silk ball gown by Charles Frederick Worth.

As well as classic designers from history, we can also expect contemporary work from modern-day fashion designers, displaying their own take on the theme of ‘Sleeping Beauties. It is difficult to predict exactly what designs will be created by each designer for the big day as all sketches and planning are kept top secret until the day of the Met. However, one might expect (and hope) that modern designers will pay homage to the history and legacy of ancient fashion and classic designers that paved the way for their success. Phillip Lim, Stella McCartney, and Conner Ives have all been announced to be a part of the exhibit. Many more are yet to be announced.

As for the Gala itself that is in conjunction with the exhibition, the dress code is going to be ‘The Garden of Time’, inspired by the J G Ballard story of the same name. The story touches on a similar theme to that of the exhibition – the evolution of mankind

and, as Amy De Klerk of Harper’s Bazaar says in her article on the event, ‘The endless cycle of creation and destruction.’ Again, it is impossible to know what to expect from the stars on the red carpet, as all plans and designs from each designer for their celebrity remain unknown until they have either been photographed by the paparazzi leaving their hotel or have reached the famous ‘Met Steps’. Nonetheless, here are a few predictions of what we might see on the night:

Most stylists will be picking archival pieces for their clients to fit with the historical theme. Inevitably, the archival designs of late British designer, Lee Alexander McQueen, will be making an appearance. His avant-garde designs and theatrical runway shows, often inspired by different parts of history (such as his Joan of Arc collection) are definitely a worthy contender for the night.

Also, we can expect to see John Galliano’s work for Dior on the red carpet. His reimagination of the style of historical icons such as Marie Antoinette and Cleopatra during his tenure as creative director at Dior (as well as at his eponymous label) were what established Galliano as a powerhouse in the fashion industry.

Lastly, the work of Vivienne Westwood would also be a wise choice that would make a powerful statement. Westwood’s controversial collections, which often protested against capitalist ideals, consistently featured a juxtaposition of French corsetry and historical grunge aesthetics (nods to pirates, witches etc.). This would be a smart way to stick to the theme while sending a message.

“‘SLEEPING BEAUTIES WILL EXPLORE FORGOTTEN GARMENTS AND HISTORICAL PIECES OF FASHION, SPANNING OVER 400 YEARS OF HISTORY.”

There are three ways to make a building look important and serious. The first way involves battlements and lots of limestone. The second way is the ‘too much glass’ approach. Today, we shall be focusing on the third way, which begins with columns. Any columns will do. Marble ones, better still. A pediment is a bold step but nobody can doubt it's efficacy. The Supreme Court of the USA, the Old Bailey, Buckingham Palace, St Paul’s, the New York Public Library, the Capitol Building, the British Museum… columns, columns, columns. Go all in on the statues, the architraves, and the friezes. Maybe the West has given away its little secret: we seem to have a bit of a soft spot for ancient Greek architecture. We specialise in the Parthenon. We LOVE the Parthenon.

High on the Acropolis, the Athenians’ dedication to their olivebranch goddess has come to represent the very foundations of ‘good’ society to us. Whether this is historically accurate is irrelevant: it is a fact that inherent to the image of the Parthenon are the qualities of justice, knowledge, freedom, love, and democracy. Therefore, it really ought to be no surprise that when we see a building which claims to stand for any (or all) of those qualities, it is also almost certainly equipped with the all-important set of hefty marble columns, possibly a pediment, and probably a statue or two. The stone of the Parthenon is now living: its body participates in the

things for which it stands. To make a building look important and serious, one must look to the Parthenon.

About 200 years ago, that living stone was dying on its native foundation. The Parthenon has performed a diverse set of functions over its two thousand years on earth. First, it was a temple, then a church, then a mosque, then an Ottoman gunpowder magazine, then a bombsite. For the couple of hundred years after that, it was a mixture of a mosque and a mess. The roof was gone: two-thousandyear-old stone thrown high into the sky in a ball of fire. Many of Phidias’ ancient sculptures had been flung halfway across Athens or defaced by different waves of idol-bashing monotheists.

That is, until 1801, when Britain’s Lord Elgin decided that enough was enough. The ancient sculptures must be saved. With the permission of Ottoman officials (or so Elgin claimed), the team set to work, and the marbles were gradually removed from the Acropolis. Sculptures were taken from the Parthenon, the Erechtheion, the Temple of Athena Nike, and the Propylaia, so that they might be repaired and preserved far away from the rubble-pile-torture of war and pollution. Left where they were, the marbles would have died a slow death. Elgin sold them to the British Museum, which displayed them to the British public as ‘The Elgin Marbles’ for the first time. The poet John Keats raced from his home at Wentworth Place to Great Russell Street to see them. He was struck profoundly:

Is Britain losing its Marbles?

By Nathan Raudnitz (Sr U6)

So do these wonders a most dizzy pain

That mingles Grecian grandeur with the rude Wasting of old Time – with a billowy wave –A sun – a shadow of a magnitude.

On Seeing the Elgin Marbles – John Keats

A newly independent Greece, however, triumphant in freedom from Ottoman rule, was not so impressed. They immediately requested the return of their most dearly beloved cultural symbols on the grounds that Britain had purchased them from an occupying force. Britain said no – and for good reason. The new Greek economy was unstable and precious objects had a way of losing themselves down the backs of sofas. Athens’ pollution was dreadful and may well have sped up the decay of the marbles. They saw diligent care in the soft hand of The Brit-Mus. Case closed.

Years passed, then Greece asked again. In the 1980s, under a new democratic government waxing in stability, they requested the return of the marbles to their homeland. Britain said no –preposterous! Their reasons for refusal were broadly the same, though their evidence was becoming thin.

In 2009, the firmly established parliamentary republic of Greece, along with many other key members of the EU, demanded that Britain finally return the Elgin Marbles to Athens, so that they might be displayed in the new Acropolis Museum. The museum is a captivating collection of the rich history of Athenian culture, purpose-built to house the ancient marbles at high-security and with expert care and attention. I remember still seeing plaster casts of the missing marbles on display when I visited with family in 2015: ‘This artifact is held in The British Museum.’

In 2023, our Prime Minister, Rishi Sunak, cancelled a meeting with the Greek PM, Kyriakos Mitsotakis. The decision to cancel was made at the last minute, humiliating the Greek prime minister on a diplomatic visit to the UK. Sunak accused Mitsotakis of breaking a

deal which put marble-media off-limits during the visit. The Greek government denies that any such deal was made. Unfortunately for Sunak, his attempt to restrict press attention found its way into the press and has got us all thinking about the marbles once again. At this very moment, I, myself, am caught in the tide of the time and am delivering a topical article – rare indeed.

The Parthenon marbles are some of the most important cultural symbols on earth: not just to Greek culture, but to the culture of the entire modern world. In the British Museum, the Elgin collection performs a vital role, taking its rightful place on the richest cultural timeline under the cosmos. But is it really right that the Athenians should keep plaster casts of their own history, while their real treasures remain here in the UK? Imagine we had to place brass crowns and sceptres in the Tower of London because Greece had the originals and refused to return them!

I went myself, recently. Walk through my memory of Bloomsbury. It is raining heavily as we leave St Pancras. We pass a Leon, then another Leon, then another Leon, and then the Brunswick Centre with its ultra-60s slant-terraces and brutal concrete charm – the future of the past! We are heading towards Russell Square. There, on Great Russell Street, we have built the image of the Parthenon. We have the columns; we have the architrave; we have the pediment where Astronomy stands with the earth in her hand. The building is impressive; however, unless the institution participates in the values which its appearance claims to champion, all the world’s grandeur will not stop it from feeling hollow. If we give back the Parthenon marbles, people around the world may look to Great Russell Street and think of justice, knowledge, freedom, love, and democracy. If not, we will find ourselves losing to a fast fade toward obscurity, incongruous in the modern world, mingling Grecian grandeur with the rude wasting of old time: ‘A shadow of a magnitude.’

“IS IT REALLY RIGHT THAT THE ATHENIANS SHOULD KEEP PLASTER CASTS OF THEIR OWN HISTORY, WHILE THEIR REAL TREASURES REMAIN HERE IN THE UK?”

Rebuilding the Tower of Babel

By Tess Gillis (L L6)

In an era of Google translate and with even more powerful AI tools sure to come, why would anyone learn a language? Will my grandchildren wonder why we had to learn languages laboriously in the same way that I was perplexed when my grandma talked about learning shorthand in order to make notes in meetings? Could she not have just used her phone to record them?

I love learning languages and in my spare time I have taken up learning Russian

because I am fascinated by the culture of a country about which we seem to know so little. However, it is my studies of my own language, English, which have helped me to understand why learning other languages is so important. I have learnt that our language has incredible subtlety and that there are quite different shades of meaning in words which appear to be quite similar. I can ask you something, I can enquire, or I can request it of you; I can demand to know, or I can beseech it of you. The function

is the same, but your reaction would be very different if I asked for an answer or demanded one. These are nuances which Google translate fails to acknowledge. Until recently, I had not appreciated the difference between being uninterested in something and being disinterested but they have subtly different meanings. However, if I ask Google to translate both words into Spanish it has the same answer for both words: ‘desinteresada’

Language is also a window into the culture of another society. President George Bush is supposed to have criticised French commercial culture by stating that ‘the trouble with the French is that they don’t even have a word for entrepreneur’. It is an amusing story, probably untrue, but it does show how the words of a language can be seen to reflect a culture. It is an oftendisputed claim, but in a recent article in the Washington Post it was shown that in the Inupiaq dialect of the native speakers in Alaska there really are 70 different terms for the word ice. If you live in Alaska, you notice the subtleties and differences of ice and your language reflects this; if you live in Dubai, ice is something you put in your glass and one word will suffice: jaleed

The Bible recounts God destroying the Tower of Babel and sending humans in all directions with different languages so that they would forever be separated by these different tongues. That is, for me, the essence of language – it can bind, or it can separate. I do not think you can truly communicate with someone from a different culture unless you understand their language in the same way that they do – the subtleties, the nuances, and the complexities. In an era when we seem to be growing further apart and countries find it easier to fall into conflict with each other we should be working harder to bridge those gaps. Understanding what the other person is really saying is a first and very necessary step towards this. For all our sakes we need to rebuild the Tower of Babel.

“I can ask you something, I can enquire, or I can request it of you; I can demand to know, or I can beseech it of you.”

Edward Joyce (Sr 4)

Vedika Puthi (Sr 4)