Issuu

'20

Contents 4  Translation Translation Translation 6  Alice in the World of Translation 8  Language Obsession 11  Writing and Art - Where to draw the line? 16  Exploring the Art and Science of Script 18  Duolingo and Endangered Languages: what difference does it make? 20  L’évolution de l´usage et de la perception des créoles Antillais 22  Recipe for disaster: Reintroducing compulsory language GCSEs isn’t the magic box of tricks the education system needs. 26  On the other side of the wall: Brexit and the migration debate 28  How I found myself on my Year Abroad - without even going 30  Berlin: Placing the Cinematic Experience 33  why bother? 34  Princess Kaguya 36  fragment from Bénédiction 38  Testimony to the Situation 39  Sidgwick Site 40  El Baile Emotivo 41  l’Allegoria del Buon Divertimento 43  In the Marshes Contributors: Myles Hung, Esmee Wright, Alexandra Jarvis, Marion Willingham, Yan-Yi Lee, Leanne Tyme, Lara Pieczka, Juliette Bowen, Ryan Montgomery, Matt Parry, Sasha Chown, Evie Burrows, Carmen Hatchell-Morales, Christian Pfordt, Alex Haydn-Williams, Ewa Sulek Background llustrations (pp. 34-35 & 42-43): Evie Heathcock Cover: Dresden, Germany skyline with Elbe River, © TTstudio / Adobe Stock Editor and Graphic Designer: Aasta Kendall CULCS Committee 2019-20: President - Helena de Guise Vice-President - Umme Pisavadi Secretary - Ella Williams Publicity Officer - Arabella Barwick Junior Treasurer - Hannah Haugvik Editor - Aasta Kendall

From the Editor...

elcome to this yearâ€™s online-only edition of Polyglossia! As a project of the Cambridge University Language and Culture Society (CULCS), the magazine unites those interested in language and culture across the University. This edition reflects the breadth and diversity of these academic and personal interests, ranging from the development and use of Creole languages to Berlin cinematic culture, to personal experiences of navigating the Year Abroad, a key element of the MMLL degree here in Cambridge â€“ the result is a truly international magazine.

lenged our international relationships. In her political piece, Juliette Bowen discusses the proposed points-based immigration system, whilst Lara Pieczka evaluates the lack of foreign language tuition and study in the education system today, contributing arguably to a fundamentally UK-centric curriculum. Lastly, we delve into the world of fiction. I encourage you to explore the 10th-century Japanese folktale The Tale of the Bamboo Cutter, reimagined as an animation and explored here by Evie Burrows. Take a fresh look at the famous poetry of Charles Baudelaire, before enjoying original contemporary poetry and fiction written both in Spanish and English and translated from Polish.

Any collection encompassing language and literature across borders necessarily has to examine the phenomenon of translation. Our journey begins here, with our first piece questioning the very meaning and implication of this term. Two pieces also concern the nature of language itself: Marion Willingham explains how pictures evolved into writing, whilst Yan-Yi Lee explores the deeper meaning of scripts, including their relationship to culture and our understanding of the world.

This gives just a glimpse into the range of pieces which comprise this yearâ€™s magazine. It has been a pleasure to work with all those who have contributed to Polyglossia this year, and I would like to thank everyone for their translations, articles, poems, short stories, and artwork. I hope you enjoy reading this edition of the magazine, wherever you have spent lockdown.

In the United Kingdom, the latter half of this decade has been politically turbulent, to say the least: both the Brexit referendum and the current Coronavirus pandemic have ruptured and chal-

Aasta Kendall 3

Translation Translation Translation

Myles Hung

ife is rife with translation. From one language to another, I wish to draw high works of literature to French attention to another kind of translation, exercise books, the results of that of one form or medium to another. translation lie all around us. A lanIn particular, I am considering the transguage that may not be accessible to one lation of an event into memory, from can be translated into another, enabling memory into writing, then from writing and aiding the global circulation of stointo reading. Granted, not all texts will ries and information. But something is come into contact with such translating, quite unsettling about translation, in that though at least the last is inevitable, although a new language may capture whilst the second is also extremely likely. the gist of a text, in doing so, may forgo I feel that this type of translating can be some of the nuance of the old. Perhaps easy to overlook compared to language you have heard of the cliché translating, which we are so ’50 words for snow’, referaccustomed to. “Now try ring to the Inuit supposedly having this modest plethora translating an Some choose to write to describe what we know about life events or expeentire work ... it as the white stuff that falls riences, thus drawing on from the sky. If, for instance, is no wonder we their memory. Others pass one was to translate one stories down through the end up with that of these Inuit lexemes into oral tradition, reshaping English, it might be difficult quaint phrase them into new tales as they to replicate the exact meanreplace details or add new ‘Lost in ing. Now try translating an ones. Our memory is brilentire work, and in considliant at remembering the translation’” ering syntax, semantics, gist of something, condensvernacular, it is no wonder ing experience into repwe end up with that quaint resentations we can refer phrase ‘Lost in translation’. One language to: we might hear something that we can is not the same as another, so clearly, not recall in the exact tone of voice it was everything can be replicated, or there said, or see an image, or remember the would be no need for translation since it way we felt at a certain point in our lives. would be the same language. However, our memory has difficulty when it comes to recalling verbatim; we Now, whilst many of us are faoften tend to forget tiny details or fabrimiliar with this kind of translation, from cate new ones. Eyewitness testimony is 4

often inaccurate for this reason, since it is quite easy to forget a small but crucial detail, instead replacing it with a falsehood. Likewise, when it comes to reading, we may remember only a few quotes from a text (unless you were making a special effort). Poetry, of course, elicits cues, acoustic, visual and otherwise to aid in recall, which is why it tends to be easier to remember compared to prose. So, what does the fallibility of memory mean for writing? It means that we have already begun the act of translation. Parts are omitted, new parts are grafted on, the result being that the text is on its way to a Frankenstein creation.

great hermeneutic tradition is yet another act of translating. Semiotically, what one reader may read in a text is almost undoubtedly different to what another reader might find. In this way, the reader is translating the text into something they understand, and the intentions of the writer may go amiss if the reader does not find them. In the reader’s mind, the text they understand is a different one to what the writer has written. When you were reading the title ‘Translation Translation Translation’ you would see that the three words are identical in meaning. But of course, they are also not identical at the same time. Technically, the letters are the same, with only the spatial positioning appearing different. But you might read the last in a different intonation, or your cognitive acuity might have dropped (or even risen) slightly by the second iteration. Even the software I write this on has drawn angry red squiggles underneath the second and the third, inviting me to delete them. A part of translation lies in the reader, resulting in the text mutating again.

But this is just the beginning. We take memories, these imperfect representations, and then select choice fragments when we write. Or in the case when one tells a story, they keep the ‘interesting bits’ in and leave the ‘boring bits’ out. Writing involves the process of self-censorship; we choose what we think will excite the reader, blotting out the unwanted even before we set pen to paper (or finger to keyboard which is probably the more common option nowadays). Ideas are flung around, strung together and the best are saved. Consider the technique of brainstorming, where you might grab a side of A3 and paint it with your imagination. It is likely you won’t use all of it. Similarly, you will select the best concepts your mind can conceive, out of a pool of many. Or if using memories, you’ll point out what needs to be emphasised and downplay or remove the less important fragments. If all the ideas inside of your head are the genotype, then the finished text is the phenotype. You have translated (again).

After all of this translation, the final product (if you could call it that) is likely unrecognisable when compared to its beginnings. So, what implications does this have on writing? I’m not entirely sure. Perhaps it means that we should pay more attention to what we often overlook, and be more prudent when we write. A detail can slip away so easily, hence the recommendation that we keep a notepad and pencil handy at all times (or some equivalent) for the moment those creative ideas strike. Meditation and introspection might also be in order. Then we may begin to consider other types of translation, such as that from language to language. Life is a translation in motion, with translation at all levels, even ones we may not be aware of.

However, the journey is not yet over. The interpretation of a work by a reader, the reading of signs and signals and such is also worth mention. This 5

Alice in the World of Translation Esmee Wright

iny Mulder once wrote “A language is not complete if there are no translations of the Bible, Shakespeare and Alice in Wonderland”. An anglo-centric statement perhaps, but in this anglophile world, that doesn’t make it any less pertinent. In Alice in a World of Wonderlands, a book written to celebrate the 150th anniversary of Lewis Carroll’s Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, academics Jon A. Lindseth and Alan Tannenbaum stated that Alice in Wonderland has been translated into 174 languages, in 7,609 editions, either in existence or preparation. This was back in 2015. In 1964, Warren Weaver found that Alice had been translated into only 47 languages. So why the sudden boom in translations?

than there are living in Aberdeen. These translators are not operating in a vacuum but rather at the forefront of a desire of a great many people to preserve their heritage and learn the language of their forebears. But why have so many translators chosen Alice in particular? As NeSmith points out, what Lewis was writing was literary nonsense; all puns and practical jokes whose target is the English language itself. Translating it is not straightforward. “The Mouse’s Tale” goes beyond just the obvious pun between the English tale and tail, and the words on the page themselves form this tail/tale

Since Weaver’s study, there has been considerable effort to combat the effects of colonialism and to preserve endangered languages. In 2012 Keao NeSmith, professor at the University of Hawaii translated Alice in Wonderland into ōlelo-Hawaiʻi. The native Hawaiian language was nearly destroyed after the overthrow of the Hawaiian monarchy by America in 1893 and the imposition of an English-only law. Closer to home, Alice has also been translated into Scots Gaelic, a language once also banned in favour of English. In 2003 the Guardian published an article mourning the inevitable death of Gaelic. Now, there are more people learning Gaelic on Duolingo

issuing forth from the mouse. Tragically, not all translations attempt this fiddilish typography; no doubt, because not all languages have the necessary references to make the joke (and not all translators the skill to realise it). One particularly smart translation, into Gujarati, a West Indian language, managed to make the pun on the phrase “poonchadoo nathee dekhatun”, to talk with no end in sight, with “poonchadee”, the word for tail. Unfortunately, not all languages, nor translators, have this particular punniness, although Emer O’Sullivan does point out that unimaginative translations can have their own hilarious elements. And it isn’t just the puns one has to watch out for. The Jabberwocky poem, from the second book Alice Through the Looking Glass, exists at the limit of understanding. Yet, Gilbert W. King points out that, having been translated into languages including Latin and Ancient Greek, it cannot be quite as senseless as it seems. There are clues to the grammatical happenings of the sentence, which C.T.K. Chari indicates thus;

chances of any other language having words similar enough in sense and form to conjure the same ideas as ‘slithy’ in the mind of a French, or German, or Choctaw speaker?

“‘twas - and the -y ------ -s Did - and - in the - ; All - y were the -’s,

Even across the various French translations (one of the first languages the book was translated into) there is rarely consensus on all but the most basic grammatical structure of the poem - yet Frank L. Warren’s 1931 version has slipped the poem into the present tense, something no translation I have seen has chosen to replicate. Henri Parisot’s version, from De l’autre coté du miroir et ce qu’Alice y trouva, edition Flammarion, is generally regarded as the ‘canonical’ translation, and even then his translation technique varies. The “slithy toves” be-

And the ------ -s out --------.” Humpty Dumpty confirms what one might suspect; the words themselves often teeter on the edge of sense; ‘slithy’ as a portmanteau of ‘lithe’ and ‘slimy’; ‘brillig’, some form of time period, means the hour of cooking - boiling. Unfortunately this is only true for certain words. ‘Wabe’ I have yet to detangle the possible linguistic roots of. Yet, being very nearly meaningful, Jabberwocky is almost harder to translate. What are the 7

come les slictueux toves, maintaining the sound, if not the reference of ‘slithy’ (unlike André Bay’s 1989 attempt, in which glisseux allowed reference to both gluant - slimy - and glissant - slippery), while “gyre and gimble” is rendered “gyraient et vriblaient”. The prefix ‘gyro-’, from Ancient Greek, means the spinning action of the first word continues across both languages, but gimble, which, according to the all-knowing Humpty Dumpty means “to make holes like a gimlet” is switched out for a word that is probably a reference to the French ‘vriller’ - to coil or corkscrew, with an edge of vibrer - to vibrate.

Language O

Alexandra Jarvis

have been obsessed with languages for as long as I can remember – I think as soon as I realised that there were other ways of communicating with people out there. As an example, my village of Sylvanian Families spoke a particular dialect, unintelligible to my sister’s village in the neighbouring room; the web was complicated, confusing, and, to me at least, utterly fascinating. As soon as I learnt another proper language, I was hooked. French became my Thing, and it remains so to this day.

That Alice is something of a rite of passage for the preservation and proliferation of minority and legacy languages is a wonderful way to continue to bring the joy of Carroll’s word play to new audiences. The joy of translation is that it is an art, not a precise science. No two translators need render any one sentence in the same way, and Lewis Carroll epitomizes this genius in Alice, which need never be understood the same way twice.

My attitude to learning languages was quite skewed, however: I have spent decades cultivating the “perfect French accent,” attempting to remove any trace of foreign-ness when I speak. It led to me hating being abroad with my family, because one look at them caused our waitresses to start talking in English to them – when all I really wanted to do was speak French.

Bibliography Appleton, Andrea, The Mad Challenge of Translating “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland”, Smithsonian Mag, 2015. Chari, C. T. K., ‘Culturally different Languages and Philosophies’, Dialectica, Vol. 22, No. ¾ (1968) p.30. Scots Gaelic Duolinguo, Twitter Post. 1:51 PM · Feb 15, 2020. Scott, Kirsty, Twilight of the Gaels as Ancient Language Falls Silent, Guardian, 2003. Walkowitz, Rebecca L., Reading in a World of Wonderlands, Los Angeles Review of Books, 2016.

This was all tied up with the feeling I had when I went to Denmark on a school exchange trip; I burned with envy every time my hosts spoke English to me, and then Danish to one another and their friends. It felt so unfair, because they already had two languages under their belt, and I barely had one. I felt the weight of the English language on me, the stereotype of not being able to speak the language making itself felt every

Obsession time I went to France on holiday.

All through school, I had been complimented on my French accent. And so, I turned to languages in I’d been obsessed with learning othan attempt to cross this barrier. I was er languages and attempting to come the one who bought all the across as completely, 100%, language guidebooks, who bona fide French whenever went everywhere I could I spoke it throughout my life “I felt the with my measly, “hello,” – and yet I’d never seen my “goodbye,” “thank you,” in weight of the own accent as a positive. an attempt to feel more cultured, more accepted. When English Something that I take out I was in France on my au language on of this is that, regardless of pairing hiatus, I waltzed into how other people see you, me, the every bakery I could find the fact is that you’re atand ordered whatever took stereotype of tempting to say something my fancy, fighting to mainin their language. It doesn’t not being able tain the French mystique, matter if you conjugate a and hating the thought that to speak the verb incorrectly, or don’t they would know that I was say it completely correctly language English. – whether it’s your second making itself language, or your four One moment in my teenth, who cares? felt” French language class while I was over there, though, I know how lucky we stood out to me distinctly. supposedly are for speakThe French teacher was speaking to us, ing English as a first language, because a group of women from various different ‘everyone speaks it,’ and it’s not so much countries – Turkey, Spain, India, England of a hassle going abroad. This rather reand Germany, to name a few – and we moves the impetus for us to learn other got onto the subject of accents. She said languages. However, I’ve always been something that no-one had ever put as one to succeed out of spite, and this, plainly to me before; “You all come from coupled with my absolute obsession for different places – you’re not French, and languages, means that if someone tells you don’t speak French as a first lanme that the English don’t learn foreign guage. And yet you speak it. What’s there languages, I intend to tell them that to hide?” they’re wrong, in as many languages as I can.

Â© The Trustees of the British Museum

Writing and Art Where to draw the line?

Marion Willingham

nglish speakers tend to refer to Art and Literature as two separate disciplines, just as we differentiate writing from pictures. I can’t help but question where this stark separation came from, as image and writing have been intertwined throughout the entire history of writing. Not only that, but the contemporary disciplines of Art and Literature have left plenty of room for crossover between the two ideas. It’s about time that ‘sign’ and ‘symbol’ became as prolific terms as ‘image’ and ‘writing’.

ing in the Middle East. The image above is a text used to deal with rations, where numbers sit alongside simple pictograms denoting items such as bread. At this point you may well ask how pictograms develop into writing systems. The first stage is the stylisation of the pictograms to such an extent that the original images are unrecognisable. This is what happened to cuneiform, leading it to take on its characteristic wedge-shaped style. You might note that this process didn’t affect Egyptian Hieroglyphs, and the original pictures remained remarkably recognisable. A second process did occur to both Cuneiform and Egyptian hieroglyphs, resulting in symbols representing sounds rather than whole words. Andrew Robinson, specialist in writing systems, believes this is the change which separates proto-writing from full writing systems (although Chinese characters, for example, still use plenty of forms which represent whole words).

Writing Grows out of Pictures In approximately 3200 BC, what is widely considered the first ever writing system was born. A writing system is not a language, but simply a way of writing language down: for example, our writing system, the Roman alphabet, is used to write a multitude of languages. It is not unanimously agreed, however, that this is the first ever writing system, since systems were not simply invented in one genius stroke. In fact, early writing systems descended from ‘proto-writing’ or ‘pictograms’, which as is probably apparent, took the form of pictures! It is difficult to look at historical artefacts and decide whether pictures have developed into writing yet, or are simply pictures. All this said, the earliest writing system mentioned above is Cuneiform, or rather at this point Proto-Cuneiform, originat-

This process is called the ‘Rebus Principle’, where signs for words begin to show just the sound of that word. For example, the Ancient Egyptian word for ‘owl’ was a single syllable containing the consonant we write as ‘m’. Through this process, the owl symbol in Egyptian hieroglyphs came to just represent the sound ‘m’. This is a more satisfactory explanation for the number of owls in 11

ancient Egyptian texts than a bizarre fascination with birds...

The Combination of Writing with Pictures Despite having evolved from pictures into writing, civilisations with perfectly functional writing systems combined their writing with visual art to add an extra layer of meaning. The example below is the first letter of an Italian illuminated manuscript (15th century), where the letter ‘B’ has been transformed into a humanoid creature and used as a window to an illustration of the text. This tradition was perpetuated by more recent artists such as English printmaker Eric Gill who created reli-

Initial B, with David playing the lute © Victoria and Albert Museum, London 12

gious works where letters were used as illustrative tools - for example, the letter ‘A’ might be formed from an image of a ladder. Conversely to imposing visual imagery on letter forms, it is also common to see text added on images. This lintel (decorated architectural element) is from the ancient Maya world, and the image is adorned with the fabulous Maya glyphs which look like a series of elaborate square pictograms, both vertical and horizontal, to show the words of the figures it depicts. This format survives to this day: just think of the modern day comic strip. Below is a strip from the famous Adventures of Tintin by Belgian cartoonist Hergé.

"Hergé's Masterpiece" by failing_angel is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 2.0

The Visual Form of Writing as Art

movement which is continually expanding thanks to blogs such as The New Post-Literate and exhibits such as Global Multimedia Poetry Stands. Artists in this movement show the separation between letter forms and their meanings. Artists create Asemic writing for different reasons; some enjoy how these texts can seem totally impenetrable like lost ancient languages, but others how the reader can still gauge a different sort of meaning from them. For example, the famous American artist Cy Twombly is often thought to evoke an emotional response linked with the idea of handwriting, due to his scribbly mark making. Iranian artist Parastou Forouhar has an especially interesting motivation for her use of asemic writing: her work ‘Written Room’ uses a script which initially appears like the Persian script, but in fact is totally meaningless - on a linguistic level. With this she challenges viewers to question their perception of different cultures and states, which can be evoked simply by the semblance of a foreign script. The image below shows an installation of this

Without using pictures at all, the arts of calligraphy and typography are built around designing letter forms for visual appeal. Typography was adopted by artistic movements such as Futurism and Dadaism, notably the Italian poet Filippo Marinetti, whose works not only used a variety of different typefaces, but also rejected the traditional arrangement of texts in uniform horizontal lines. This tradition is now known as Concrete Poetry, poetry where the letter design and arrangement is just as meaningful as the words themselves. Moving from the literary tradition to the world of visual art, many artists have also been keen to explore the visual impact of letter forms, separate from their meaning, both by creating asemic writing: marks that look like writing but which have no linguistic meaning, or by using established writing systems in unconventional manners.

Asemic writing is a fascinating 13

'Written Room'; Frankfurt, 2019. Image used with artist's permission.

work in Frankfurt from 2019.

challenge the preconceptions about culture which are tied up even in the visual aspect of writing. The banner below says ‘Art for the people’.

Aside from asemic writing, another way in which artists explore the visual impact of letter forms is through unconventional use of existing letter forms. Swedish artist Lina Nordenström makes works, often in the form of books, which use printed lettering but in an unconventional format, reminding viewers of the book as a tactile and visual object, and the visual salience of letter forms and text even when extracted from their languages and meanings. The example below is a spread from a booklet entitled "JAG SKRIVER INTE" ("I DO NOT WRITE"). Chinese Artist Xu Bing also rearranges letters, but his works use ‘square word calligraphy’, where he rearranges English letters such that they evoke Chinese characters. Much like Forouhar, his works

It’s been quite the journey, and I hope you’ll now agree with me that writing and art aren’t at all as distinct as we might think. Writing developed from pictures, and since that happened we can’t help but combine the two. Not only that but in contemporary artistic culture, the visual form of the written word has so much additional meaning, be it emotional, cultural, sociopolitical, or simply related to the idea of writing itself. All that’s left to do is to come up with names for all the possible text-image hybrids lying ahead of us and get creating!

Image reproduced with artist's permission.

"artforthepeople1" by Mechelle01 is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

Exploring the Art and Science of Script Yan-Yi Lee

Those who give force「力」in the fields 「田」are none other than men「男」!

here is no denying that languages are the most helpful invention of mankind. And among languages, there are writing scripts— artefacts that metamorphose with us humans, right as we venture through the most glorious and challenging of times.

In other cases, Chinese characters also embody interpretations in highly graphic, humorous fashion. 「囧」finely paints a picture of a gasp with slanted eyebrows, just like when one is ill at ease. Yes…! It perfectly illustrates ‘awkwardness’!

Scripts vividly illustrate how humans interpret the world It is fascinating how we cleverly take advantage of scripts as a means to communicate interpretations of the universe. Economically designed and ingeniously graphed, scripts echo human cognition, cultivated in the depths of our mental faculties.

This linguistic charisma also lives in the Japanese Kanji, wherein the Japanese deploy logographic Chinese characters to illustrate mental values. The words「大丈夫」‘daijobu’, which contain the literal meaning of ‘big warrior’, surprisingly translate into the casual expression ‘I’m okay’. As if the language demands that it’s never enough to just ‘be okay’—rather, one must always convey the robust spirituality of a fighter.

The Chinese have long been masterminds of such art. Over the years they have skilfully weaved their cognition of the world into single characters, many of which preserve socially constructed ideas in antiquity. This includes gender roles (although, such ideas are completely outdated in the cosmopolitan parts of today’s Chinese-speaking circles):

Scripts are genuine forms of art Assigning scripts the sole function of communication seems to bore us. Because scripts aren’t really ‘alive’ unless they showcase our aesthetic flairs. I love calligraphy in any form that humans have had to offer—from Arabic

When there is a roof「宀」,a woman 「女」,there is peace and security「安」! 16

to Mongolian, Latin to Hindi. The delicate twists and turns of the brush cultivate perseverance, firmness of purpose, fine attention to detail. A desired inner peace that transcends boundaries.

the Katakana カタカナ, the syllabary designed for foreign terms, seemingly exudes desire to connect with the dynamic, globalised world.

Scripts manifest human innovation in problem-solving

Now, isn’t that the inner psychology that dwells in many of us as well?

Scripts spark a complex web of his The Korean script compels me torical dialogue by charm. A seemingly simple script with circles, squares, lines here and Scripts have us reminisce times in there, some say. Goodness, they do the history, which, as with all human events, language zero justice! The effort of a are often revisited, re-digested and 15th-century king to make re-interpreted in a different literacy accessible to all, light. It still triggers anguish Hangul—the Korean alpha“writing to this day how the French bet that still lives today— nonchalantly Romanised scripts— was brilliantly graphed the Vietnamese alphabet to depict the positioning artefacts that for the coloniser’s conveniof our lips, our tongue, metamorphose ence, to avoid giving effort our speech in action. And to learn a foreign script. But let’s be fair here, isn’t such with us others, however, calmly linguistic innovation from a view it as a milestone for Vihumans, right monarch rather rare? etnam to be more culturally as we venture independent from China. Scripts personify us Likewise, the simplification through the of Chinese characters has It’s stimulating how most glorious pained many, but who’s to some scripts present fresh and challenging say that it hasn’t increased personalities, just like us access to the complex people. The Japanese hiraof times” language even beyond the gana, katakana, and kanji Mandarin-speaking world? picture it all— a beautifully assembled ‘orthographic Trinity’, if you will:

All in all, scripts are intriguing. They are created out of need, to serve one universal purpose, but ultimately the realities they convey are multiple. They epitomise our intellect and nature, but also bluntly display controversial marks of past times. A product of humankind, they are inspiringly diverse— neutral, but also remarkably sentimental. They are none other than an invigoratingly genuine human narrative.

The Kanji 漢字 — the adoption of logographic characters from China — encapsulates the perpetuation of a wider cultural tradition; the Hiragana ひらがな, a Japanese born syllabary, constructs a cultural model unique to the nation itself;

Duolingo and Endangered Languages: what difference does it make? Marion Willingham

t seems likely that the stereotypical Cambridge student would be a budding bilingual, whether in pursuit of cognitive strength, as an addition to a flourishing LinkedIn page, to facilitate travels, or perhaps to gain insight into a different culture. This final reason is likely the motivation of the popular language learning app Duolingo for the development of courses in Yiddish, Hawaiian and Scottish Gaelic, among other minority languages. However, the extent to which a Western digital resource can aid minority languages and cultures is in doubt.

which are neither the official language, nor the most widely spoken language in a geographic community. The interplay between lingua francas and minority languages is timeless, and while many lingua francas end up extinct (think, Latin), the current situation for minority languages is critical: 43% of the world’s (estimated 7000) languages are endangered. According to the Living Tongues Institute for Endangered Languages, every 2 weeks the last fluent speaker of a language dies, and they predict that in 100 years, half of the world’s languages will be extinct.

Sometimes as English speakers it is easy to forget the privilege which comes with speaking the current lingua franca (common language) of the whole world. English is now an international language, having strayed from the British Isles into North America, Oceania, and most other areas to varying extents. Forgotten in the midst of this domination are minority languages: languages

To those unfamiliar with the topic, the first question to answer is why we should care. The extinction of a language to a linguist is like the extinction of a species to a biologist. We lose data on the capacities of natural language and witness a reduction in the world’s linguistic diversity. However, language is not just a phenomenon to be studied - language is deeply human. Language 18

is thought of as a vessel for culture, history and ideas, recorded in written documents, oral histories and even encoded within a language’s idioms and etymology. Language can encapsulate a culture and its independence. What’s more, language can symbolise political independence, as minority languages are often stamped out by colonial powers, or by undemocratic rulers, for example the Spanish dictator Francisco Franco, who banned the use of all languages other than Spanish. Hopefully, the importance of the presevation of minority langugaes for their communities is now clearer.

such as Wikitongues introduce the necessary technology into the communities so their digital resources are accessible to the people for whom they are the most important. They also stress the importance of making resources in lots of media so that the language can be used in multiple contexts and become more prevalent in the lives of its community. As it stands, Duolingo creates functional language learning courses, but cannot provide the expertise and resources required for language revitalisation - which puts the language community first.

Language revitalisation teams (often charities) solve these problems in ways Duolingo can’t: they include trained linguists who can introduce a writing system, and they visit the communities so they can document the language without relying on a volunteer with internet access. Also, institutions

https://www.endangeredalphabets.net/ https://www.eldp.net/ http://www.endangeredlanguages.com/ https://languageconservancy.org/ https://livingtongues.org/ https://wikitongues.org/

So, although Duolingo’s Duolingo seems to endangered language cours“the current have done something briles are clearly not the optimal liant, then. They have taken tool for language revitalisasituation for their platform with hundreds tion, are they a bad thing? minority of millions of users and used I would say no. Having the it to promote the maintelanguages on the site isn’t languages is nance of languages in need a terrible thing, and there critical: 43% of preservation. An initial is no problem with people problem is that for languages of the world’s outside of the communities to be added to the site, some learning and exploring the (estimated members of its community languages (keeping a respect must have an internet confor the cultural and political 7000) nection, and even before communities to which they languages are that, the language must belong), even organisations be written down. Minority such as Wikitongues promote endangered” languages often belong to the use of their resources by small indigenous communithe wider public. This said, ties, which may not use the these courses are not the internet due to differing cultural practicsolution to language endangerment and es, technological development, or a poor organisations such as (but not limited to) connection in their territory, and Ethnothose listed below remain fundamental logue estimates that 3116 languages are in the fight against language extinction. unwritten.

L’évolution de l´usage et de la perception des créoles Antillais Leanne Tyme

et a dû se battre pour être reconnue et avoir le droit déxister. Aimé Césaire, une figure emblématique de l´établissement de lídentité créole et de la Négritude a clairement exprimé dans son Cahier dún retour au pays natal ces difficultés. Chris Searle souligne que « nous trouvons notre identité à travers la langue » et Léon Laleau que « des mots de France ne reflètent pas les émotions héritées d’ailleurs » dans ses poèmes tels que « trahison ». La langue française ne lui permet pas de s’identifier avec son propre pays. Ces auteurs renforcent le point que Césaire a montré avec succès dans son Cahier.

é de la traite des esclaves entre le sixième et dix-neuvième siècle, le créole est un dialecte issu d’un besoin de communication ainsi que des conditions sociales de ses locuteurs de l´époque. Bien que tous les créoles soient différents, il est intéressant de noter quíls ont tous la même structure de base en commun comme léxpliquent les linguistes créoles et les chercheurs français du CNRS : il ságit dúne protolangue formée du lexique de la langue source et dúne structure verbale différente de la langue source, construite sur la base des dialectes dórigines de ses locuteurs. Ce langage est issu des besoins de communication entre les différents groupes linguistiques et ethniques composant la main d´œuvre esclave dans les Antilles françaises à l´époque de la colonisation. Ces oppressés ont dû créer une forme de communication entre eux pour leur vie quotidienne désclaves, face aux maitres blancs, français, francophones et oppresseurs, comme léxplique le Larousse.

Le créole à ses origines a donc dû se battre pour avoir le droit d´être utilisé comme langue et pour que ses locuteurs puissent sídentifier, se définir comme créole et en créole. Quén est-il de la situation linguistique du créole et de la créolité de nos jours ? De nos jours il est bien sûr permis aux locuteurs créoles de parler créole et français dans leur vie quotidienne aux Antilles et en Métropole. Comme líllustre WILL.I.AM, un locuteur créole distingue les différents usages et contextes dútilisation du Créole et du français : dans la vie privée, pour exprimer ses émotions, pour parler en famille, on va utiliser le créole. Le français quant à lui

A ses débuts, le créole des Antilles était perçu comme une déformation du français par les maîtres francophones. Par exemple, les enfants étaient punis pour leur mauvais français, ils avaient peur et honte de parler créole. L´identité créole n´existait pas encore 20

sémploie pour le travail et les situations formelles à léxtérieur. Au cours de mes recherches, il mést apparût évident quáussi bien la langue et la culture créoles des Antilles étaient vastement célébrées à travers des initiatives et évènements organisés par des institutions des DOM-TOMS mais aussi de la Métropole. Le Mois Kreyòl ce qui est festival langue et culture créoles à Paris tous les mois dóctobre en est un exemple. De la même manière, on peut sínformer librement sur láctualité des DOM-TOMS en écoutant RFI, qui diffusent également des programmes en créoles. Il y a de quoi matière à se demander si le créole est une langue étrangère en France ? En effet, comme l ´écrivait Robert Chaudenson, un CAPES Créole a été créé en Métropole qui fait de cette langue à lórigine rejetée et dévaluée une langue régionale de France ! Comment peut-on en arriver à une situation aussi paradoxale ? Du rejet et mépris à lássimilation totale aux dépends des spécificités linguistiques ?

culturel et linguistique. En Métropole, nous avons même des personnalités qui font office dámbassadeurs de la culture créole et sont des modèles pour les créoles de la Métropole. On peut citer le chef Babette qui a rendu la cuisine antillaise extrêmement populaire et moins exotique. Comme avec la langue créole, les français ont normalisé la culture créole. Cést sans mentionner les nombreux sportifs et athlètes médaillés français dórigine antillaise comme Thierry Henry qui appartient aussi bien à la France quáux Antilles. La musique française inclut de nombreuses chansons avec des paroles créoles comme Kassav et Facteur X. On peut donc dire que de nombreuses manières, la créolité et la culture créole font partie intégrantes de la culture française contemporaine et sont célébrées en tant que telles.

Il y a peut-être une explication à cela ? Tout dábord, rappelons que les DOM-TOMS sont un territoire français à part entière. Dáutre part, ne savons-nous pas láttachement de la République Française à la Francophonie ? Le créole ou les créoles sont donc une manière de contribuer à la Francophonie. En Métropole et dans les DOM-TOMs le créole et le français co-habitent pacifiquement. Il y a même une grande communauté créole en Métropole.

Nous avons donc bien pu démontrer une évolution du créole en tant que langue et culturellement parlant entre ses débuts aux Antilles et sa situation actuelle dans les îles et en Métropole. Cette évolution en apparence positive de lóppression à lácceptation est néanmoins à nuancer. En effet, comme nous lávons souligné, les DOM-TOM font partie intégrale de la France, ce qui explique que le créole soit une langue régionale française et que les créoles de France soient des français dont les représentants et ambassadeurs soient des icônes françaises à part entière.

Culturellement parlant, le contraste entre la situation des locuteurs créoles dans la lutte pour revendiquer leur culture et la situation actuelle est notable. Par exemple, un enfant né en métropole de parents parlant créole à la maison peut choisir de passer un Baccalauréat Créole et célébrer son héritage

Il vaut peut-être la peine ici de se demander ce que signifie le mot créole pour sápercevoir quén fait, il ságit dún mot dórigine espagnole criollo, dérivé de criar qui signifie ´élever´ et qui possède donc un aspect colonialiste évident. Le créole antillais et les DOM-TOM en sont donc une parfaite illustration. 21

Recipe for disaster: Reintroducing compulsory language GCSEs isn’t the magic box of tricks the education system needs. Lara Pieczka

icture the scene: it’s 2014 and I’ve just sat down in my GCSE French class. There are 10 students huddled together, the classroom is practically empty. Just a decade before, the situation would have been unheard of, for it was in 2004 that the government scrapped compulsory language GCSEs. Since then, the uptake of languages has been declining. An article published in

2019 stated that language learning in UK secondary schools is at its lowest point since the turn of the millennium. What’s more, the trends show more than just a slump in language uptake immediately after compulsory language GCSEs were scrapped. BBC analysis shows drops of up to 50% since 2013 in numbers taking GCSE language 22

courses in the worst affected areas in England. And it’s not only England affected. In Northern Ireland, the number taking languages has fallen by 40% since 2003. In fact, in 2019 over a fifth of UK schools had less than a quarter of their cohort enter a GCSE language qualification. All these figures illustrate that language learning in UK schools is in decline

or equivalent exam entries for languages was less than the number at Eton. This highlights the socioeconomic issue of language uptake. There was a slight improvement in language GCSE entries after the introduction of the English Baccalaureate - it is compulsory for students to take a language GCSE to attain the award. Following this, unfortunately the trend reversed and now languages constitute just 5.5% of GCSE entries in England. The government has set a target for 90% of young people to take a language GCSE by the year 2025, but how is this target attainable given the current numbers?

“language learning in UK secondary schools is at its lowest point since the turn of the millennium”

The situation isn’t any better at A-Level either, with overall entries dropping by 15% since 2002. French and German entries both decreased by over 50% in this time frame. Since fewer students study language A-Levels, fewer go on to study them at university. If the current trends continue, even more universities will be forced to cut back or scrap their languages degrees. Given that languages are one of the greatest skills shortages in the UK, you would expect the opposite - that students would be pushed to take languages in order to plug the gap. STEM subjects have been pushed intensively over the last decade, resulting in the type of results we now need replicated in languages.

at GCSE level, but the problem doesn’t start here. Even at the earliest stages, languages are struggling. In the British Council Language Trends report of 2019, one third of responding primary schools reported teaching a language in Key Stage 1. This is the lowest proportion since Language Trends first surveyed primary schools. Additionally, only 17% of schools have a set number of hours for language learning per year, some as little as 14 hours. At the lower end of the scale, this is equivalent to just over 20 minutes of language learning per week. Evidently, the figure is completely inadequate for good levels of learning. And this isn’t the full picture, since a third of schools with a set time per week say that pupils do not always receive the time allotted, so in reality students are receiving even less language learning.

So why not make language learning at GCSE compulsory again? In my GCSE French class, there were students with a wide range of language ability. Some were aiming for the A* grade and incorporated the imperfect subjunctive in their detailed descriptions of ordering lemonade at a French café. Others hadn’t quite grasped the concept that you need to conjugate verbs for them to make sense. Overall, this leads

I find it particularly shocking that in 2017, there were 37 local authorities in England where the total number of GCSE 23

to an unproductive way of learning for all parties: you’re either left unstretched, or you constantly feel inferior. The British Council report highlights that languages aren’t appealing for students because of apparent difficulty and grade boundaries being skewed by native speakers. So, simply making languages compulsory again will not solve issues - in fact, it would most likely cause even more.

teachers and exam boards to cultivate well-rounded students. After all, there’s more to France than the Eiffel Tower. Moreover, there is much more scope to engage with the modern world. Why not incorporate fundamental aspects of French culture that enthuse students, for instance French fashion houses and famous youtubers. As it currently stands, reintroducing compulsory language GCSEs will not solve the issues currently facing us. We will only do this by reforming language examination and making the courses more engaging.

Across the UK, there is a shortage of language teachers. Around a third of state schools and a quarter of independent schools report difficulties recruiting languages staff. Interestingly, the issue Instead, I propose adopting the is more prominent in the CEFR (Common European South, where almost douFramework of Reference for “A wealth of ble the number of schools Languages) system, widely report difficulties recruitused across Europe. This opportunity ing language teachers. In system grades students is being order to recruit more staff, according to proficiency and more young people need missed by both places them in one of six to choose languages, so we bands: A1, A2, B1, B2, C1 and teachers and are stuck in a negatively C2. In the current system, B1 spiralling cycle. Furtheris equivalent to a high GCSE exam boards more, forcing young people and B2 is A-Level standard. to cultivate to take a qualification they By adopting this system, are not interested in does those with native skills can well-rounded not foster enjoyment of a work towards an appropristudents” subject. Instead, we need to ate qualification for their encourage students to want ability. In addition, young to take languages. How do people who struggle would we do that? Well, it’s certainly not going still be able to gain a qualification, withto happen with the current curriculum. out feeling demoralised in the GCSE system which has often been criticised for If I could summarise the GCSE failing to cater for students who cannot and A-Level curriculum in one word, it access the Foundation level papers. This would be: boring. Lessons spent learnwould allow for equal progress measureing how to order a lemonade might help ment of all abilities. Currently, take-up of with acquisition of the basic language, accreditation offered by foreign governbut even at higher levels the lessons ments or cultural institutes is very low are simply not engaging. For instance, at 4% in the independent sector. Again, during my French A-Level, I spent six a dichotomy is apparent in the school weeks learning about the definition of system: only one state school reported heritage, yet we only studied a couple of using another accreditation. Adopting the most famous tourist sites. A wealth the CEFR system could address some of of opportunity is being missed by both the fundamental problems in our curric24

we want to change the attitude towards language learning in the UK. Simply reintroducing compulsory language GCSEs will not solve the problem. The British Academy states that monolingualism is the illiteracy of the 21st century, and our education system is failing young people by fostering a curriculum where foreign language learning is redundant and avoidable.

ulum. It may potentially involve shaking up our system to have multiple year groups in one classroom, but many other countries including the US do this and have shown it can work successfully. In addition, employers do not value language GCSEs highly because the qualification does not reflect your language proficiency, whereas the CEFR system was created directly for this purpose. We must also acknowledge that the news is not all terrible: since 2001, there has been a growth of almost 7000 pupils taking languages other than French, Spanish, German or Welsh GCSE. However, this still doesn’t counterbalance the loss of 45% of GCSE language entries. Languages don’t just provide us with the obvious ability to speak a language, they also provide a lens into another culture, facilitating communication and teamwork - key skills valued by employers. What became of my GCSE French class? A fair few of us have gone on to study language degrees at university, including myself. I was lucky enough to go to a school that valued language education, but few are so lucky. Inequity in provision of languages is reflected in every possible way in our current curriculum, and so radical change is needed if

Sources: https://www.theguardian.com/education/2019/may/11/modern-languageteaching-under-threat-from-tough-exams https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/education-47334374 https://www.britishcouncil.org/voices-magazine/teenagers-in-england-lesslikely-to-learn-languages https://www.gov.uk/government/news/ languages-boost-to-deliverskilled-workforce-for-uks-businesses

On the other side of the wall: Brexit and the migration debate Juliette Bowen

over £30,000 in order to be admitted into the country. It is for this reason that the Home Secretary, Priti Patel, writing in The Sun, was able to present the new arrangements as fundamentally fairer than the previous ones: ‘a firm but fair system that rewards the skills people have to offer, not where they come from’.

n 19th February, the UK government announced its introduction of a new, points-based immigration system. At the end of the Brexit transition period in January 2021, all those who apply to work in the UK – both EU and non-EU citizens – will have to prove that they possess at least 70 points, which can be gained through a job offer at an appropriate skill level, proof of English language ability, and a sufficient salary. The government’s announcement was met with harsh criticism from industry leaders and opposition parties, and more generally by those who voted to remain in the European Union. It was argued that the policy would lead to under-staffing and deter investment in key economic sectors, while more fundamental questions were asked about the government’s definition of ‘skilled’ work.

It is widely accepted within the EU that, in order to maintain the Union’s soft internal borders, hard external borders must also be preserved. This has led to the epithet ‘Fortress Europe’, used particularly by those on the left who object to the EU’s treatment of refugees and migrants from war-torn and impoverished countries outside of the EU. As the political theorist Joseph Carens has written with regard to the hard borders of both the EU and the United States, how you feel about such border controls can depend very much on which side of the border – of the ‘wall’ – you are situated.

These issues are important – even more so as the coronavirus crisis continues. Nonetheless, the outcry provoked by the government’s reforms might surprise those who have been following UK migration policy for some years, since the government’s ‘new’ immigration system is in fact substantially unchanged from previous policy for non-EU migrants. Indeed, conditions will actually be relaxed for such applicants, who will no longer be required to earn a salary of

The uproar about the new, points-based immigration system may well suggest that many British people, including those who consider themselves to be both fairly liberal and pro-immigration, have more sympathy with migrants from the EU than from outside of it. It may also raise bigger questions regarding British attitudes towards migration. 26

Having left the EU, the UK now finds itself on the outside of numerous ‘walls’. Yet, when compared with the near-silence (among all sections of society) about the future of UK migrants to the EU, the many objections to the UK’s new immigration system indicate that the British continue to see the UK as a country only of immigration, never of emigration.

states have considerable freedom to regulate non-EU immigration, and there is accordingly a diversity of immigration systems across the Union. Countries such as Italy focus on limiting the overall number of immigrants. The decreto flussi (‘flux decree’) allows a certain number of migrants to work in the country, divided into seasonal and non-seasonal, and ‘skilled’ and ‘unskilled’ workers; these numbers are adjusted each year in accordance with the current economic and employment situation. Other countries, including France, Germany, and Sweden, have a more straightforward system, in that a visa is granted to applicants with a confirmed job offer – providing that the employer can prove that they were unable to find a suitable candidate from within the EU job market. Despite this diversity, all these immigration processes are complex, drawn out, and potentially costly for both jobseekers and employers.

This self-perception is already having concrete effects on UK citizens living abroad and particularly in the EU. In the absence of clear information and guidelines from central government, it has been left up to the various British embassies, and to voluntary organisations such as ‘British in Europe’, to organise citizens’ meetings and write handbooks that inform UK migrants in the EU of their rights, and how to maintain them, after Brexit. The fact that such citizens have been something of an afterthought for the UK government also carries a financial cost. For all its faults, the process of applying for pre-settled or settled status in the UK is at least free. By contrast, in most European countries, British citizens (many of whom either could not vote in the EU referendum or did not vote to leave the EU) are required to pay substantial sums in order to guarantee their post-Brexit rights.

Yet UK citizens are not the only ones to be affected by this distortion of the national immigration debate. By failing to recognise that British people are themselves migrants or potential migrants, discussions about immigration will always remain somewhat UK- or EU-centric, with little empathy for those who find themselves on the outside of those hard borders. This is not to say that EU freedom of movement is a bad thing or that the UK was right to leave the EU. Far from it: for one thing, as the new points-based immigration system shows, it is unlikely that the UK is going to be any more welcoming of immigrants after Brexit; for another, it can be argued that freedom of movement is a right that should be extended, not restricted. Nevertheless, it might be wished that there was a greater sense of solidarity, not only between UK and EU citizens, but among people the world over, all of whom may

Perhaps more importantly, however, given its capacity to influence immigration and related policies, the UK’s self-perception as being on the inside of any ‘wall’ also distorts the national immigration debate. In fact, it was partly the idea that the UK is a country only of immigration, and never of emigration, that led to Brexit in the first place, and thus to the many problems which will face UK citizens wishing to work or live in the EU after December 2020. Contrary to the presentation of EU migration policy by some Brexit campaigners, EU 27

one day want to work or live abroad. In this way, the ‘immigration debate’ might be broadened out, so that it is more properly a ‘migration debate’: no longer simply about the receiving country or countries, but also about the migrants themselves, and their hopes and aspira-

tions for a better future. Whether Brexit – a process that will ultimately put us on the other side of the ‘wall’ – will eventually occasion such a change in British people’s orientation towards migration is something that remains to be seen.

How I found myself on my Year Abroad without even going Ryan Montgomery

was now, for me, synonymous with absolute terror. The thought of even sending off a job application filled me with dread. Finding myself would have to wait: how was someone who couldn’t even leave their bed going to find the motivation to leave the country?

CN: Mental Health

rom the moment I applied to study French at university, there was one thing on my mind: the Year Abroad. For the best part of two years, I was so excited to get out into the big wide world, to travel and discover new people and places. Above all, I had a fantastical vision that I would find myself as I strolled along the Champs-Élysées, bedecked with a cravat and a beret like some flâneur out of a New Wave movie.

I could only keep putting off the inevitable for so long. Pretending to my tutors that I was applying for placements, all of which were mysteriously rejecting me, was becoming exhausting. So, as the deadline for confirming my Year Abroad plans approached, I slammed on the brakes and hit the emergency stop. I had to face it: I needed help, and I needed it immediately.

The reality, though, couldn’t have been more different. By my second year of university, it seemed as though the world was falling apart. At a time when everyone else was applying for exchange places and internships, I was struggling under the weight of mental health problems which, left untreated for years, had reached breaking point. Going abroad

That was one year ago. Today, as I sit writing at my desk gazing out onto the streets of Paris below, my life has changed beyond recognition. With the help of my tutors, my friends and the 28

most supportive medical professionals, I was able to formulate a plan which would allow me to look after myself and make the most of my Year Abroad. To be sure, this wasn’t plain sailing: as anyone who has navigated Cambridge bureaucracy will know, trying to jump through the university’s many administrative hoops is never easy – not least in the middle of exam term.

I know, however, that I am extremely lucky. Not everyone can expect the same level of care from their academic tutors as I was able to receive, and getting mental health treatment is hardly a walk in the park. Everyone’s experiences are different, and there are many for whom the Year Abroad was anything but rosy. I’ve spent the last three weeks confined to my apartment, as the coronavirus pandemic turns our lives upside down and many of my friends are forced to return home, prematurely ending their time abroad.

Six months of treatment later, I moved to Paris just after the New Year. For the first time, I was optimistic about the new experiences which lay ahead. These were no longer the disastrous situations "The Year Abroad of my nightmares, but opportunities ripe for is the subject of the taking. Fast forward many stereotypes to April, and my time in Paris has been nothing and short of magical. Friends, misconceptions ... colleagues, excursions and adventures – all have there's made my new life here incredible. Not only have certanly not a I “coped” with the trials single person who and tribulations of moving abroad, but I can truly can say they never say that I’ve thrived. doubted their

decisions" Of course, things have gone wrong. Two weeks after moving in, my electricity was cut off without any warning. This time last year, the prospect of the infamous administration française and a fortnight spent living by the light of a headtorch would have been enough to send me running straight back to England. And I would be lying if I said that there weren’t moments when all I wanted to do was scream. Somehow, though, I got through it - and thankfully, reader, I am happy to report that the lights haven’t gone out since.

What I can say, though, is that every single person deserves to have an incredible time on their year away from university. The Year Abroad is the subject of many stereotypes and misconceptions. Yes, it is scary and unpredictable, and there’s certainly not a single person who can say they never doubted their decisions, but above all, it should be fun. There is nothing wrong with putting your own wellbeing first, even if that means taking a more unconventional approach to moving and living in a foreign country. Truthfully, there’s no way I could have enjoyed the experience if I hadn’t made the choice to step back and reassess my situation. By taking the time I needed and navigating my own path, I realise only now that, long before I’d even stepped foot in the hallowed halls of Gare du Nord, I managed to find myself on my Year Abroad without really trying.

Berlin:

Placing the Cinematic Experience Matt Parry

For me, however, the thing that epitomises Berlin’s relationship to movie culture is its cinemas themselves. The city prides itself on its independent cinemas, with each Kiez (Berlin’s local subdivisions) normally having a handful of local Kinos, such as Citykino Wedding and the Filmtheater am Friedrichshain, and, of course, the iconic Babylon Kino at the heart of Rosa-Luxemburg Platz. This is the reason why Berlin’s independent cinema network has such a strong link with place- they’re very much an integral part of the neighbourhoods they’re situated in. This rooting in locality further lends Berlin’s independent cinemas a sense of community - so-called Kiez Kinos act as a meeting place for local residents of each district, bringing people together from all different walks of life and providing a strong sense of local identity. This was particularly evident to me as a student on my year abroad- local cinemas acted as a way of inviting me as a newcomer to the new environment I found myself in, and helped to welcome me into the local community in both a physical and social sense.

he year is 1895. Locals have gathered in Berlin’s Wintergarten theatre for a spectacular new kind of show. The crowd is amazed at the spectacle they’re seeing - acrobats performing athletic feats, traditional Russian dancing, and even a boxing kangaroo. At the end of the show, the duo who orchestrated the performance, the Skladanowsky brothers, come forward to take their bow. Only they’re not really there- their likeness is projected onto a screen, the images moving before the audience’s eyes. In fact, everything within the performance is an illusion, moving pictures on the wall. The world’s first cinema has just come into existence, and it’s a space as much about the congregation of people as it is the screening of a film. Since then, Berlin has developed a strong claim to being the physical and spiritual home of European cinema - the city of Marlene Dietrich and Ernst Lubitsch, of M and The Lives of Others, and of Studio Babelsberg, which has seen the production of countless classics and to this day remains the largest film studio in Europe. 30

This becomes particularly important when film festivals come to town. There are many smaller festivals throughout the year, varying widely in both format and theme, and celebrating an iridescence of cultures through the Seventh Art. Whilst the films on display come from all over the globe, the festivals themselves retain a strong sense of locality, of ‘Berlin-ness’, precisely because they take place in these community cinemas. When visiting these festivals, you feel as if you’re taking part in something beautifully paradoxical, experiencing art from all over the world, yet also taking part in the simple ritual of going

to the local cinema to see a movie. There is no arrogance, no flashy premieres or tuxedos. Everything stays true to the Skladanowsky Brothers’ vision of the community cinema back in 1895 and the special role of the cinema as a space not only of film, but of people and of community. As such, these smaller festivals work both ways: the city celebrates film, and the film community celebrates the city itself. Of course, this doesn’t account for bigger festivals. Naturally, the biggest of them all is The Berlin International Film Festival (A.K.A. the Berlinale) which

"Kino Intimes Entrance" by maha-online is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0

celebrated its 70th anniversary this year. find “strategies that make a community At first glance, the spaces in which the cinema the heart of a Kiez." The BerBerlinale operates seem widely different linale brings thousands of cinephiles to to those of the personal, community-led the city each year, and programmes like cinemas of the smaller festivals. On my these are a great way to point the eyes first trip to the Berlinale this year, I was of the international film world towards at first struck by the commercialism of it the beautiful, unique network of indeall: huge, often overbearing cinemas in pendent cinemas that Berlin has to offer, the centre of the city’s tourist and finanas well as making sure that the locals cial districts, overpriced food and drink, themselves can easily take part in this and, perhaps worst of all, as my dad and enormous celebration of film. I were walking into a screening of Kazik Radwanski’s fantastic Anne at 13,000 ft., Secondly, it’s almost impossible we were almost forcibly handed limited to ignore that even these perhaps more edition lipsticks by L’Oréal, one of the commercialised and at times non-perfestival’s sponsors. The Berlinale seemed sonal cinematic spaces are as much a dislocated from Berlin’s rich tradition of part of Berlin as any other. Berlin has cinema as community always been a city of space; instead of offering change and of modernia personal connection sation, and to deny these "the at times with a local community cinematic spaces a claim overwhelmingly (and by extension with to ‘Berlin-ness’ would be the city itself), the Berpure snobbery. No, the huge festival linale’s cinemas turned Berlinale doesn’t repreremains rooted in their cinema-goers into sent a threat to Berlin’s customers. Has the Berorganic, personal cinthe city's organic linale become less about ematic culture. What it celebrating this very spe- and unique does represent is a fusion cial city and its relationcinematic culture" of two crucial and wonship with the cinematic derful aspects of the city, space, and more about doing justice to Berlin’s money and commercialever-changing, ever-deism? veloping, ever-modernising nature, without losing touch or respect for the com Of course it hasn’t. For one, the munity-led cinemas that have been an Berlinale has taken steps to ensure that integral part of the city since 1895. Berthe at times overwhelmingly huge festilin’s film festivals, whether big or small, val remains rooted in the city’s organic continue to do justice to the strong link and unique cinematic culture, including between film and the city itself. That’s the Berlinale Goes Kiez programme, what gives me confidence that, whatever which ensures screenings of some of the may be in store for the German capital in most hotly ticketed films of the festival the coming months and years, films, and are shared between the Kiez-Kinos. In specifically cinemas, will continue to be fact, the festival hosted a special discusits lifeblood. sion panel on this very topic in order to

why bother?

Sasha Chown but don’t they understand? don’t they see? that none of this can be done if no-one can be bothered; we wouldn’t be standing here as we are if no-one had been bothered

why bother people say when they find out what I do why bother: why bother with all those funny letters and funny noises and funny words when you could quite as easily not bother at all?

mothers protect us but they’re not always right: at some point we need to step out from her shadow I want to taste the world! want its flavours on my tongue: exciting and explosive expansive

this mother of ours has reached tongues across the globe — a gentle war of attrition, eroding and replacing… she works by stealth grammar and syntax her cloaks of disguise hardly perceptible till you peel up a corner and see what’s hiding beneath

these exotic flavours, exotic words they’re needed, they’re vital: broadening horizons so wide… too many words!

why bother? she is everywhere, this mother: every corner and nook and cranny turning up when you least expect; a waste of time, they say

so when they say why bother all that can be said is: because.

what a waste when there is so much else to be done! wars to end rights to fight for people to save: this little bubble of the universe can hardly stay afloat — why bother?

Princess Kaguya Evie Burrows

For a long time, I have been deeply frustrated by human limitations, by mortality, by the fact that everything we feel and perceive is fundamentally biased by our humanity. These issues have not stopped haunting me, and I don’t think they ever will. It’s part of being human, after all. But in her last cry out to the world, Kaguya screams that human life is worth living. Sadness building up inside of you; uninterrupted, perfect laughter; bruises and blisters from a long day of playing or working outdoors; the sense of wonder as you gaze at a flower as it blossoms; hurt that tears your soul apart as someone you loved leaves you… and I suddenly realise that incarnation may not be all that awful after all. We get to feel. Celestial beings beckon to Kaguya to join them in a place devoid of all the mess human life inevitably entails; but this tale is a hymn to that messiness itself. To a certain extent, I believe that a world without suffering would be a world without feeling at all. (How I can reconcile this with my Christian belief in some sort of a heaven, I don’t know.)

‘Come along, in the purity of the City of the Moon, leave behind this world’s sorrow and uncleanness.’ ‘It is not unclean! There is joy, there is grief… All who live here feel them in all their different shades! Birds, bugs, beasts, grass, trees, flowers and feelings!’

t’s the first time I’ve ever cried whilst watching a film. Maybe it’s all the stress and upset about what’s going on at the moment in the world. But this film was so much more beautiful and so much sadder than I remembered from my first time watching it.

The Tale of the Princess Kaguya ( かぐや姫の物語), directed by Isao Takahata, is an animated retelling of the 10th-century Japanese folktale The Tale of the Bamboo Cutter (竹取物語). It tells the story of a child brought down to Earth from the Moon, who grows up to become a beautiful but unhappy princess. At the end of the movie, Princess Kaguya is transported back to where she came from.

Kaguya’s longing for earthy life is particularly moving as she is, fundamentally, not quite human. She grows up at a miraculous speed, is haunted by a heart-wrenchingly sad melody, and is

For me, The Tale of the Princess Kaguya is a love-song to the human condition. This is why it moved me so much. 34

too beautiful, too aloof, not quite like Her teacher insists that princesses don’t everyone else. Though, at the same time, sweat or cry; Kaguya replies that then her feelings and her actions are deeply princesses aren’t human. Indeed, she relatable. And during her happy childhas come down from the Moon to Earth hood, she lives out the human experiprecisely to sweat and cry, not to be ence to the fullest. She grows up in the locked up inside a mansion, forbidden forest with her playmates, sometimes even to celebrate at a festival held in her going hungry, but free to do honour. That so many years whatever she wants. These of possible happiness were wild scenes made me feel stolen from Kaguya in an "To a certain a vague but visceral longattempt to make her happy, extent, I belive ing, both for my childhood, that she couldn’t appreciate spent playing in the forests her little time on Earth to that a world of Sweden, and for a simthe fullest, hits painfully in without ple life like those lived by the scene in which Kaguya people long gone. A deep suffering would crashes to the ground, waklonging to live, to simply ing up from a perfect dream be a world live, to let go of trying to of what life could have find happiness in striving or without feeling been. success, and instead to find at all." joy, or even, for me, to see In a way, I think we are all God in the grass blowing like Kaguya. We grow up, in the wind, in the sweet and we leave the forests taste of a stolen watermeland the hills to enter classrooms, then on, in the friend who bandages up your lecture theatres, then offices. We conwounds and wipes your tears after a fall. form to social expectations, we pretend that we are certain things and that we But Kaguya did not get to live want certain things because that’s just this life as she had intended. Her father, what you do. Sometimes it’s our parents, convinced that he was doing the right like for Kaguya; sometimes it’s others; thing for her happiness, transformed her sometimes it’s ourselves. So, if you take into a princess and locked her up inside one thing away from this, let it be the a mansion. She is taught to bear herself memory of the sound of the wind in the in a certain way, passing time through trees. Remember the world to which we a tranquil life of frivolities light-years are so deeply and beautifully tied. And away from a life of facing the human remember to live, to truly live, to not shy condition head-on. As a woman, she is away from suffering, because if you’re particularly limited; she is discouraged suffering, it’s proof that you are able to even from walking in formal settings. feel. You’re alive. 35

fragment from

Bénédiction

Charles Baudelaire Translated by Carmen Hatchell Morales Soyez béni, mon Dieu, qui donnez la souffrance Comme un divin remède à nos impuretés Et comme la meilleure et la plus pure essence Qui prépare les forts aux saintes voluptés! Je sais que vous gardez une place au Poète Dans les rangs bienheureux des saintes Légions, Et que vous l'invitez à l'éternelle fête Des Trônes, des Vertus, des Dominations. Je sais que la douleur est la noblesse unique Où ne mordront jamais la terre et les enfers, Et qu'il faut pour tresser ma couronne mystique Imposer tous les temps et tous les univers.

Be blessed, my God, who grants suffering As a divine remedy against our impurities And as the best and purest essence Who prepares the strong for holy pleasures! I know that you set aside a place for the Poet In the blessed ranks of the holy Legions, And you invite him to the eternal celebration Of the Thrones, Virtues, and Dominations. I know that pain is the sole nobility Which earth and the underworld will never bite, And that to braid my mystical crown You must impose all the times and universes

he above fragment of Baudelaire’s Les fleurs du mal (1857), consists of quatrains 15 through 17 of the total 19, which make up “Bénédiction.” Baudelaire, in this marginally autobiographical poem, finds hope—a more pious reader may interpret this as salvation— in his suffering. Baudelaire sees his suffering as a gift from God to “remedy” his imperfections to later allow him to enjoy his afterlife, in which he claims God makes sure to leave a seat for the Poet. It remains ambiguous whether Baudelaire means that God is saving a place for him, or for those who suffer and use poetry as a remedy— much like poets, thanks to the myth of the suffering artist. I chose the above extract due to the connection I felt between it and the following line from Nietzsche’s The Gay Science: “Every art, every philosophy may be viewed as a remedy and an aid in the service of growing and struggling life; they always presuppose suffering and sufferers”. Following Nietzsche’s reasoning, art and philosophy, in their creation, are seen as a “remedy” to the struggles of life; without such struggles and discomforts, the creative beauty and intellectual enrichment would not exist. Baudelaire’s message in “Bénédiction” deviates from this in that he sees God as He who grants people suffering, while Nietzsche believes suffering to be an intrinsic element of human life. Baudelaire’s poem also veers from Nietzsche when he claims that suffering is the “divine remedy” to our impurities. Baudelaire seems to equate his creative process to suffering, while Nietzsche sees the fruits of the creative process as granting a remedy to suffering; nonetheless, Baudelaire understands that God values the Poet’s abilities enough to “invite him to the eternal celebration.” I believe in the act of sharing one’s anguish, through the medium of creation, that the weight of life’s unrelenting pain can be attenuated without relinquishing one’s freedom— like Dostoevsky’s underground man fears—or the experience of pleasure—as seen in the experience of the Stoics, which Nietzsche touches upon in The Gay Science, and as illustrated by Huxley’s Brave New World. The myth of the suffering artist, while useful in that it constructs a framework for pain and its use as a remedy, also simplifies the bond between poet and suffering.

Testimony to the Situation

Christian Pfordt

Yes, I, too, have stolen books I admit it! ... Well, I mean, technically I didn’t steal them, I guess But I took advantage of them I seized them And I don’t even regret it. I just feel abandoned With what – knowledge? insights? inspiration? I’m left alone in this mountainous highland Or whatever you call life here I’ll probably never run out of hook and eye I can climb further without a doubt But I just feel abandoned. So what other choice do I have Than to make this confession? I’m not here to blame the authors Those talented writers – I envy them I’ve been looking for them In their books (as I said earlier) And I wanted to use them as a ladder… By the way, do you think it’s true That they often need to rescue cats from trees? – the fire brigade, not the writers Those talented thinkers Their talent is my incline I can return their books, I did, But I cannot return their ideas. Regarding that I kind of lost the ground No need to worry though I hang in here alright It just would be better If I could use my hands to write.

The Seeley Historical Library - ÂŠ Poohz / Adobe Stock

Sidgwick Site

Christian Pfordt

The gates to knowledge open slowly but they are operated automatically in fact, they open so slowly that after pressing the button you are tempted to still pull the door, but then itâ€™d get temporarily stuck; so you better just leave it for the metaphor

El Baile Emotivo Leanne Tyme

Pura Felicidad, o sea, una electricidad que Explota, despega, derrama De un sitio desconocido en lo profundo Entre el alma y el corazĂłn No es una simple secuencia de movimientos distintos, Sino un poder que une la mente y el cuerpo. Una magia que cada vez te hace metamorfosear Como una mariposa en primavera. El cuerpo se vuelve ligero, Es el bolĂgrafo con el que escribes tu propia historia, Cada movimiento, cada aliento Dicen lo que la boca no puede. Contando de uno a ocho: El baile emotivo.

Richmond and Kew undid me Siena mi fé

And then on Piazza del Campo, under etherised skies, we talked and we talked as the night turned indigo your breath on the glass promised roses, or eglantine.

l’Allegoria del Buon Divertimento Alex Haydn-Willams

In bed, later that night, I dreamed of two-dimensional angels filing the upright tusks of a cruel god. The rolling hills looked like boiled eggs below, as we flew into a panorama flared out of perspective, into the gothic. In my schoolboy shorts, she says I look like an evacuee — a sexy evacuee, I challenge.

No.

These days are embalmed already, gilded at six o’clock, turquoise at eight, pink when the bunk-bed squeaks, pink as the pink on the back of the baptistery, pink framing twisted stone, pink talking from behind centuries of raindrops. In Renaissance term I turn pen to paper, face to blue line, and return to my gothic days. These fragments of midnight slip into fiction, into clouds burnt from young lips, or couples whirling one another through lamplight they don’t yet know is nostalgic. Crumbling seccos and dry whites and windless roundabouts; the simplicity of things translated, life as allegory. 41

In the Marshes Ewa SuĹ‚ek

Translated from Polish 1852 Spring

The snow never settles here in the marshes. As soon as they touch the ground, snowflakes turn into mud, merging with the marshes that stretch all the way from Tokary to Mielnik. Floating amongst the damp expanses of murky, heavy soil, the small patches of grass and moss form tiny islands amid the waters that submerge the land all year round. Invariably shrouded in the damp and darkness, the marshes never freeze over and never warm. The only indication of the changing seasons was the duckweed - in the spring it emerged shyly, crisp and bright, and in the summer, it turned juicy green, only to slowly rot in autumn, making room for the wintery water. Apart from the duckweed, everything in the marshland remained the same, suspended between darkness and light, dusk and dawn. In April Vanya, the Ignatiuksâ€™ boy, disappeared. He left home early on Easter Sunday, but instead of heading to the church in Tokary, he ran after a robin, through the forest and towards the marshland. He trampled the moss with his bare feet, leaving hollow footprints in the green cushions. When the bird delicately grazed the yellowish carpet of duckweed and ascended towards the treetops, Vanya, in the midst of the silent alders and mosses, with a barely audible splash, vanished. Like a heavy velvet curtain of a Minsk or a Warsaw theatre, the duckweed closed above him. With an expression of calm surprise on his eleven-year-old face, the boy slowly sank to the bottom of the swamp. Slipping down, he allowed the dense, cool water to enter his mouth and throat, eventually filling his lungs. For a brief moment, he could see the sunrays trying to cut through the green surface of the water. Later, as it darkened, Vanya and the swamp became one.

Summer On that Sunday in June, Euphrosyne Ivashchuk got up earlier than usual. She put on her Sunday shoes, shined them with a damp cloth, and - after a moment of reflection took them off. Standing in front of her cottage, she looked east towards the church and set out, barefoot, in the opposite direction. She passed the farms and apiaries, turned left and entered the marshes.

When Little Mary opened her eyes, she realized that she was alone in the cottage. Her grandmother often left her alone, under the care of goats. Today, however, Mary looked around with surprise - it was a festive day and Euphrosyne was a devout person and never missed the liturgy. On that day, however, she decided to go elsewhere. This surprised Mary and prevented her from going back to sleep. Since Vanya’s disappearance, her grandmother has not left her alone, not even for a short while. Curious about this new development, Mary got up, put on her sheepskin overcoat and went out in front of the cottage. * When Euphrosyne entered the forest clearing it was already dawn. Cautiously, she looked around and bent down to pick up a few leaves of sorrel. The summer was rainy; crops were rotting in the fields. ‘There will be famine or some kind of malady,’ Euphrosyne thought, putting more leaves into her woolen apron. — Sorrel has yielded a good crop. — Hmm - Euphrosyne laboriously picked sorrel leaves from among the grass without raising her eyes. ‘It will make a good soup, very nourishing,’ she rejoiced. The morning dew cooled her feet pleasantly. — And you are not at church, my old dear? The sky lit up. Euphrosyne looked up from her sorrel, anticipating a sudden summer storm. An enormous woman clad in gold, blues and purples was standing over her. ‘What a great lady,’ thought Euphrosyne. Her hair was up, decorated with a pin in the shape of the moon and sun entwined together. She wore an ornately decorated, beaded corset, embroidered with golden thread and fastened with hooks over a shirt, white as snow, the puff sleeves decorated with Brussels tape lace. The layered skirt resembled a giant, tiered and glazed cake - one almost wanted to take a bite, lick the icing, and tear it to pieces. Euphrosyne licked her lips and stretched out her arm towards the seam of the skirt. 44

— Do not touch! Nimbly, the lady jumped back. Only now did Euphrosyne realize that the lady was floating in the air, her dainty feet in navy blue leather boots hanging just above the tips of the sorrel leaves. — You’ll stain it! Tenderly the woman smoothed the upper layer of the glistening fabric and readjusted her waistband. — I don’t seem to eat anything, and yet I put on weight! - she sighed while tying the belt. —Phew! - she loosened the lacing and looked closely at Euphrosyne. — And you are not at church, my old dear? - she repeated. — The child is weak, has to eat. Fragile like a flower, my little birdie. All alone in this world, she is. Only has me, God’s child. And you, my dear lady, are you also here for the sorrel? The lady turned red, pursed her lips and shouted: — The Blessed Virgin Mary, Gate of Heaven, the Eternal Virgin! - She blushed, and after a short while, she grew serious: — The Mother of God! - she rose above the sorrel, buried her hand in her hair, and lit up her aureole. — Oh! - Euphrosyne fell to her knees, dropping the greens to the ground. Pleased, Mary smiled. — Now, since we are done with formalities… — Euphrosyne Ivashchuk, Our Lady. — Yes, yes. — The daughter of Vyacheslav and Anna, born Grad. — Hmm. — Born in Tokary. — Enough! — Just a simple peasant. — I know that. Listen, old dear, you didn’t go to church and as punishment I’ll have to wish the plague… — On me? — No, not on you personally, but on all the houses here in Tokary. Who doesn’t listen to God, must endure punishment. There was a loud thump, thunder. Mary laughed hysterically, clutching her stomach. — Is that it, right now? - Euphrosyne looked around cautiously. 45

— Our Blessed Virgin Mary! - suddenly, Little Mary emerged from the meadow, ran up to Mary and started pulling at her boots. — Grandma, she is glowing, she is glowing! - she screamed ecstatically, embracing Mary’s ankles and drooling all over her velvet gown. She saw her in the icons at the Orthodox Church in Tokary, and had no difficulty recognizing her at once. — Well, well - with one of her boots, Mary gently pushed the child away. Moved to tears, she wiped the corner of her eye. — Well, well. Euphrosyne grabbed the girl and covered her mouth, pulling her in. — Hi hi - Mary giggled, pressing both fists to her lips. Not today. It is not the time yet. And the Feast of Holy Trinity must be celebrated! The holiest of holy days - no time for work, just prayers! - she raised her voice. Swaying from left to right, floating above the ground, Mary wagged her finger in Euphrosyne ‘s face. — You will go to the parish priest and pray forgiveness of your sins, and the sins of the entire village. You will pray for all your faults to be forgotten! - she roared and disappeared abruptly - plop! - as if the air drew her in. * Euphrosyne hurried through the wilderness, dragging Little Mary behind her. Now and then, the girl stumbled, scuffing her knees on the mud. Panting, they rushed into the church where the mass was well under way. Father Simon had just raised the Chalice with Blood of Christ and offered it to the faithful with a Spoon. Euphrosyne and Mary ran through the dark hall, smoky with incense and lit only by the flames of thin candles, towards the iconostasis. — Stop the service at once, Father! - Euphrosyne grabbed and pulled at the Father’s sleeve. At first, he pushed her hand away gently, like a real father would, and later - with a little more force. The blood from the chalice splattered, staining red the robe of the priest who, in turn, was left redfaced— as red as the wine. — Virgin Mary came to me, Our Blessed Lady - whispered Euphrosyne. Her voice trembled, her fingers stiff on the priest’s sleeve. From bright red, Father Simon’s turned completely pale. He spilled the wine and dropped the spoon. Bang! The choirs went silent. Everyone’s eyes turned to Euphrosyne, Little Mary and the poor Father Simon. * A strange procession moved through the woodland. Father Simon was dressed in festive gowns; his liturgical robes rustling and the golden seams sinking in the mud as he briskly led the group. In front of him, as if he wanted to drive away the devil, he held a heavy wooden cross with a diagonal beam. He was focused and serious, his eyes shiny. In her Sunday shoes, intended only for the church, Euphrosyne followed right behind him, praying 46

loudly: ‘Bohorodyce Diwo, radujsia obradowannaja Marije, Hospod z Toboju, błahosłowenna Ty w żenach i błahosłowen płod czerwa twojeho, jako rodyła jest Chrysta, Spasa, Izbawytela duszam naszym’.1 Little Mary, clinging to her grandmother’s skirt, was looking around carefully and waiting for Virgin Mary to show. Behind her, wearing just a simple shirt and lugging a metal shovel on his back, the altar boy, Volodya, glanced frightfully from left to right. In the marshes the ground is soft, one strong swing would be enough to drive in the cross, but, being of a certain age, Father Simon had no intention of hammering the crucifix into the ground. ‘Anyway, that would be unseemly’— he decided, handing Volodya the shovel taken out from the shed behind the church. — Here, here, is where the Holy Virgin came to me - Euphrosyne pointed to the place where she had forsaken her sorrel that morning. Fearfully, the altar boy moved closer, took a deep breath, and confidently pushed the shovel into the ground. Autumn — There, in the wilderness - forcefully, Euphrosyne pressed her fingers into Little Mary’s shoulders. The girl groaned with pain. Crushing the swamp mosses and berries, they were both kneeling on the ground, hidden in the shade of alder trees. On the clearing, there were two men dressed in festive Orthodox attire. The taller man wore a long coat embroidered with images of saints. His head was crowned with a white klobuk2 decorated with a golden cross. Raven black hair and beard encircled a long face. The shorter man, dressed in a dark robe, leaned forward, wrestling with something that Mary and Euphrosyne couldn’t at first see from their hiding place. — Holy Mary, Blessed Virgin, they are digging up the cross - Euphrosyne whispered. — Grandma, please call for Mary! They will take away our cross! Euphrosyne has focused all her thoughts, so that Virgin Mary’s divine retribution would reach the heathen attacking the cross. But Mary seemed to have forgotten about them, could not hear, or maybe she was just busy? Euphrosyne decided to take matters into her own hands. Jumping out of the bushes, she ran through the range faster than her age would suggest possible, reached the cross and began wailing. — I won’t allow this! I won’t let you! - she cried. She yanked the shorter priest, who was pulling the cross. One, two, three! Hey! Suddenly, water spurted up, spraying the man’s freckled nose and soaking his ginger fringe. 1 ‘Hail Mary’ in Old Church Slavonic language. 2 A tall, black, veiled head covering worn by Orthodox priests. 47

With a scream, the man launched himself into a sprint and escaped into the forest, his priestly robe fluttering in the wind. He went past Little Mary, who was laughing and clapping her hands. * — Move over, dear neighbour. Let us get closer to the spring before it freezes over. - Old Mrs Nowak looked up on Vanya’s parents. After a moment of brooding contemplation and an audible sigh she reluctantly pulled her feet out of the holy water. Although they were already bluish from the cold, the old dear seemed quite satisfied. — Help me up - she demanded. Vanya’s father - known as Russki, ever since he has returned from the tsarist army and seemingly forgotten his own language - took Mrs Nowak by the arms and with one strong move helped her up. Alushka, his wife, knelt down and put the thick autumn shoes on the old woman’s icy feet. — Pray zealously, and maybe Vanya will come back - said Mrs Nowak setting off on her spindly legs through the forest, towards Tokary. Alushka and Russki looked at each other and silently began pulling out from a breast pocket, from underneath - a skirt, an old shirt, a decorated belt, any items left behind when their son disappeared in the spring. One by one, they began soaking the things in the holy water. Eventually, they threw everything in, and not knowing what to do next, stood there in silence. First, Alushka began to cross herself vigorously, and then her husband joined in. With three fingers, he touched his forehead and breast, then the right and left shoulders. Ne placz dorogaja3 he calmed his wife, although his own cheeks were moist with tears. — Holy Mary, Mother of Mercy. Please return Vanyushka to us - Alushka whimpered, grabbing the belt and pulling it out of the water, then wringing it out and putting it back in, soaking it again. — Our Merciful Lady, Mother of Mercy. Winter He was found in the winter, once the duckweed has rotten and subsided, revealing the brown water and the tawny bottom of the swamp - and the little Ignatiuk. While searching the marshes for lichens and mosses to seal his roof, Stashko spotted Vanya’s body. It surfaced in December, on St Nicolas day when the Orthodox Christians lit a candle to the saint’s icon, and the Catholics dried hay and prepared gifts in anticipation of Christmas. The boy floated in the water, facing treetops and the sky. For some reason, he surfaced only now. ‘The spirits of the marshes pushed him out, so that his mother and father wouldn’t be alone for Christmas’. ‘What spirits! It was Mary, our Holy Virgin, who returned the boy to his parents.’ Stashko picked Vanya up, and lifted him up in his arms. He must have weighed sixty kilograms, swollen and bloated with the swamp and everything that lived in it. Stashko 3

Do not cry my dear.

carried the boy to the family cottage and into his father’s arms. Alushka began weeping, and so she wept until her own death. — You returned my Vanyushka like this - she sobbed to the holy picture that Father Simon gave her in the spring, having consecrated it earlier, until the picture was soaked wet and wrinkled from the holy water. And though it seemed to her that Mary winked at her from the picture, she was afraid to tell anyone in case the villagers thought her mad.

* At Christmas, Alushka placed candles all around the cottage and forbade blowing them out all night, so that Vanyushka’s freezing soul could, in the darkness, find their home and warm up. She didn’t allow finishing the supper and scattered the remnants of food around the house. She sat at the window and watched. First, the colourful belt flashed in the darkness, and then she saw Vanya walking through the field, through the garden. And she began thanking Mary for allowing the boy’s soul to come home for Christmas. — A mother will understand a mother - she sobbed, nodding her head, and clutching her hands near her heart. And although nobody else saw Vanya, many noticed the trees blossoming in the orchard, despite the freezing cold and frost, and the cows’ hooves skidding on gleaming sheets of ice.