TN2 Freshers' Issue, 22/23

Letter from the Editors

This year's magazine has been a challenge.

We have emerged from a pandemic. Our editorial team have been writing, editing and wrestling Adobe InDesign since August, and we are so proud to bring this issue from our fevered brains to your hands. Luxuriate in its spectacle. Cut it up and make a collage. Eat it for fibre.

The Holy Trinity College of Queen Elizabeth's Massive Hole is extremely fortunate to have a diverse student publishing scene. Publications include Icarus’ poetry, the Evergreen environmental magazine and our two student newspapers, meaning that there’s an opportunity to have a thriving and healthy media landscape on campus.

Regrettably, this hasn’t been the case in previous years. With allegations of transphobia, accounts of leaking confidential sources, and cases of overworking staff writers, Trinity’s editorial staff needs to do better.

PHOTOGRAPHY Megan O'Rourke

More broadly speaking there is a problem with mass media - culture wars are attempting to divide the struggling majority while billionaires get richer, ecosystems collapse, and civil rights are revoked. We’re overwhelmed by “content”, with global news and misinformation flitting across screens quicker than it takes a woman to become irrevocably demonised. Facebook, Instagram, and Google destabilise entire governments, ruin economies and commit data breaches while claiming to serve our interests. Just Google it!

We want to thank our staff and readers for trusting us with their minds and their news. As a magazine we are open to critique and constructive dialogue. We aim to present a diverse range of writers, including but not limited to: BIPOC, working-class, Irish language, transgender and disabled voices. Together we hope to make a difference to campus culture and to the wider community in Dublin. Without you — our readers, our dedicated and our talented staff we would not have this incredible opportunity to showcase student’s original creative writing and artwork.

Thank you, Gale and Brí

CLIMATE EMERGENCY

Sustainability is difficult. Modern socioeconomics support a system that is defined by transience and transaction; the purchase, consumption, and disposal of goods, often at the expense of both the environment and society. It is especially difficult for students, those who are perhaps the most interested in engaging with environmental issues, yet who are without the funds to do so consistently. A petty but relatable example of this is that just four organic apples from Dunnes, sustainably produced by the Italian cooperative, Biosüdtirol, cost €3. This is the same price as buying eighteen ‘savers’ apples, the production methods of which are tellingly unstated. Farmer’s market prices consistently either equal or exceed Dunnes’ organic prices, plant milk costs more, unethically produced clothes are cheaper, and the majority of coffee shops have stopped making

drinks with customers’ reusable cups for fear of spreading Covid. The list goes on.

Imperfection is something that we’re going to have to accept. For a long time, too. But perhaps that’s okay. Brighter than it first seems. Change is slow, constituted of small, important steps, and is fundamentally dependent on these steps for any sense of momentum. What follows is a preliminary and imperfect guide to living sustainably while studying at Trinity. The hope is to suggest feasible ways for students to engage with environmental issues; that which can be done mostly on a low budget, with limited time, and in a developing and busy city.

On Campus:

WORDS Caitlin Kawalek

ACCEPTING IMPERFECTION

Trinity as an institution is working towards becoming a more sustainable university. Part five of its strategic plan for 2020-25 is to “shape our organisation and focus research around the challenge of achieving a sustainable and healthy planet”, committing, in various ways, to following the United Nations’ sustainable development goals, to creating ethical leadership, and to pursuing plans to reduce the campus’s carbon footprint.

The university publishes an annual sustainability report, assessing progress towards its stated goals, and has created a number of sustainability guides and ‘green maps’ for staff, residents, and students. These can be found via Trinity’s Sustainability webpages.

In terms of direct involvement, Trinity is home to both a ‘Green Campus Residents’ Programme’ and a ‘Green Campus Committee’. These initiatives provide students with the opportunity to actively engage with contemporary environmental issues. While the residents’ programme specifically allows those living on campus to learn and then educate others about climate action, biodiversity, and sustainable behaviours, the campus committee is open to everyone, gathering monthly to advance environmental and sustainability issues in the college.

A Guide to Sustainability at Trinity

There are a number of environmentally and socially committed student societies. These include; EnviroSoc, VeganSoc, TCD Young Greens, DU Amnesty International, and the Botanical Society, amongst others. EnviroSoc, for example, hosts panel discussions, fundraiser events, and gives advice on sustainable living.

Both the Student’s Union and Graduate Student’s Union have an Environmental Officer. Erin O’Dowd, the Student Union’s Environmental Officer, works directly with students and staff, co-chairs the Green Council Committee, and oversees Green Week.

In the City:

Dublin’s approach to sustainability is multifaceted and changing. The city is rich and complex; full of debate and contradiction. Naturally, there are hundreds of opportunities for engaging in more environmentally friendly living. What follows here represents only a handful of these.

Cycling. Now’s ‘Dublin Bikes’ are available for short and cheap rentals throughout the city, acting as a low-carbon transport option. There are also a number of independent businesses that offer a similar service. These include Bike Stop Dublin on Capel Street and River Cycles on Usher’s Island.

Cafes/Bars/Pubs. Although a little pricier, there are various restaurants and cafes working towards making the hospitality industry more sustainable in Dublin. 3fe Coffee, for example, roasts with ethicallysourced beans, sources their food stuffs from local suppliers, and has a blog from local suppliers, and has a blog ethically-sourced beans, sources their food stuffs from local suppliers, and has a blog dedicated to their sustainable practices. The Fumbally Cafe emphasises community, maintaining caring relationships with their suppliers, staff, and customers while practising eco-friendly cafe methods. Bujo, a burger joint, uses 100% compostable packaging and runs on 100% renewable electricity. Alcohol-wise, Porterhouse Brew company (with bars on Nassau Street and in Temple Bar) has committed to more sustainable production methods. Spent grain and hops are used for composting and cattle feeding, while their brewing equipment has been designed to maximise energy efficiency. In a similar vein, Too Good to Go is a great (and cheap) application for reducing food waste. Customers can ‘rescue’ cafes’ and restaurant’s unsold food at the end of the working day for reduced prices.

Buying. George’s Street, Camden Street, and Rathmines are well-known for good charity shopping, meaning that new clothes can be purchased more ethically. The Liberty Market (Thursday to Saturday) offers clothes, jewellery, and fresh flowers, with the Green Door Market (Wednesday to Sunday) and Stoneybatter’s Farmer’s Market (Friday to Saturday) focusing on fresh, locally sourced food. The Good

Neighbour in Dundrum and the Dublin Food Coop in Kilmainham are zero-waste, organic shops; a little more expensive, but worth the occasional trip.

Student Essentials:

Refurbed, a marketplace for refurbished electronic devices, is holding a back-to-college campaign, offering discounts of up to 40% on sustainable and essential technology. Refurbishment results in 70% less Co2 than when manufacturing a new device.

Elephant Art has launched a new ‘Curator Set’, a package of between ten and twenty paints in recyclable and minimal packaging, the colours chosen by each artist in order to reduce their paint waste.

Reuzi encourages individuals to swap disposable products for ones that can be reused. Based in county Dublin, they sell reusable sandwich bags, zero-waste bathroom products, guides on how to live more sustainably, and environmentally-friendly back-to-school products, amongst other things.

Although the road to truly sustainable living is long, informed by all kinds of complex changes and developments in understanding, the importance of small efforts should not be dismissed. Janine Benyus, a natural sciences writer, understands cooperation to be the animating force of life and healing. She notes how in forests, plant colonies, and other biodiverse areas, resilience is networked; the survival of difficult conditions becomes a reciprocal and multi-species task. This is a productive way to look at the environmental challenges we face today. It is important not to extract ourselves from the complexity of the climate crisis, but to acknowledge ourselves as both embedded within it and vulnerable to its implications. By beginning with imperfect yet accomplishable lifestyle changes, we make important contributions to the delicate and complex networks in society that are fighting for the planet’s wellbeing. For Benyus, the scarcity model that underpins capitalism is unrealistic and unsustainable. The routine of purchase, consumption, and disposal must be replaced by care, collaboration, and reuse.

“... resilience is networked; the survival of difficult conditions becomes a reciprocal and multi-species task”

EMERGENCY

Does ‘ESG’ Really Work? A Consideration of Purpose-led Business

The triadic ‘Environment’, ‘Social’, ‘Governance’ criteria or ‘ESG’ is swiftly gaining popularity amongst businesses, employed as an ethical compass for advancing strategy, communications, and corporate cultures. ESG initiatives orient companies towards their long-term responsibilities in the world. The implications of their carbon emissions are considered, for example, alongside those of properly diversifying their workforces. While ‘Environment’ refers to contemporary issues surrounding climate change, biodiversity, and water usage, ‘Social’ emphasises the rights and wellbeing of both internal and external stakeholders, with ‘Governance’ focusing on effective management and business structures.

The growth of ESG’s popularity follows a broader imperative for societies to subsist on more sustainable practices; those that consider the health of the planet and which are mindful of the extreme disparities in human living standards, both globally and locally. In 2015, the UN published seventeen ‘Sustainable Development Goals’ as part of its 2030 Agenda. These are specific targets that aim to increase peace and prosperity for both humanity and the planet, and include ‘No Poverty’, ‘Reduced Inequality’, and urgent ‘Climate Action’, amongst others. Additionally, the Paris Agreement, first implemented in the same year, constitutes an international treaty on climate change, seeking both to limit global warming and to reduce the average surface temperature to two degrees below pre-industrial levels.

The existence of ESG practices is an undeniably important step towards kinder corporate practices. They encourage businesses — for better or worse, the powerhouses of our economies and cultures — to think beyond their short-term profits, prioritising more

responsible investment, energy-efficient practices, and human care. There are numerous success stories. Patagonia, for example, puts environmental and social issues at the forefront of its workings. 98% of the company’s products are made with recycled materials, garments have been made available more economically through second-hand ownership and rentals, and work is underway to improve the rights of workers; specifically, those in developing countries who are manufacturing garments or sourcing their materials.

Similarly, Microsoft, which has been carbon neutral since 2012, has committed to be carbon negative by 2030. The business is one of the world’s largest purchasers of renewable energy, their products are increasingly manufactured using eco-friendly materials, and low-carbon practices are promoted and achieved through cloud-enabled technologies.

However, as with any new movement, ESG is not without controversy. Questions have been raised about the authenticity of related claims and statistics; especially in recent years where the Covid-19 pandemic and various social movements have exposed the businesses whose gleamed communications have either lacked integrity, or failed to reconcile with their practices and culture. In 2017, PepsiCo’s ‘end racism’ advert with Kendall Jenner was criticised for its implicit idealisation of activist movements as being less essential for tackling systematic inequality than they are ‘trendy’ or even ‘trivial’. Jenner is shown to hand a police officer a can of Pepsi, seemingly instigating peace and reconciliation between the police force and the advert’s diverse group of activists. The same day as its release, Bernice King, Martin Luther King Jr’s daughter, tweeted ‘If only Daddy would have known about the power of #Pepsi’. Furthermore, PepsiCo has been accused of complicity in illegal rainforest destruction, and, more recently, has been acknowledged by Greenpeace to be one of the world’s worst plastic polluters, neither having developed any reusable packaging nor reported thatany aspect of its portfolio is designed for reuse.

In 2021, having worked as co-chief Sustainability Officer for BlackRock, a multinational investment firm, Canadian entrepreneur Tariq Fancy dropped out of the position, claiming to have realised that ESG criteria were ineffective both for business returns and positive real-world impact. He claimed that government-led reform and regulation was required, that the private sector could not be wholly trusted to front environmental and social change. A subsequent report for The Economist, headed by journalist Henry Tricks, concluded that the broad combination inherent in ESG led to incoherence; the formation of a complex and confusing set of aims which are ultimately inefficient in dealing with the issues that they claim to address.

For Tricks, believing ‘Environment’ to be the most pressing of ESG’s criteria, the three imperatives should be split apart. Each concern should be treated in isolation, with initial focuses being homed on reducing carbon emissions. This latter

point might be achieved through a government tax on carbon, for example, which would combine Fancy’s imperative for politically-led change with corporate autonomy.

Uncertainty follows. While ESG principles are likely most often developed and implemented with good intentions, and almost certainly constitute some step towards healthier corporate practices and cultures, the risk that they might exacerbate companies’ lapse into performative activism or greenwashing, alongside that of them problematising business more broadly, remains. As noted by Tricks, the trio of concerns might be too broad for effective action. Perhaps tighter emphases with more precisely measurable aims are requisite. In any case, ESG remains a phenomenon to be watched – varying with each company, a station on the path to, if not somewhere better, then at least somewhere else.

Post-Covid Clubbing

Two years into the global phenomenon we call Covid-19, articles about anything “through Covid” or “post-Covid” saturate every outlet and conversation about our lives, whether navigating the return to work and college or examining how we now watch movies. However, there is an industry in Dublin that has been utterly shaken by the ins and outs of lockdowns and restrictions and overall lifestyle changes, and that, my dear friends, is the humble nightclub scene. As time passes and people return to the dance floor (with particular fervour thanks to new licensing laws allowing clubs to stay open till 6 am), where is it exactly that people are going? What on earth are they wearing? Fear not, for all you students out there, from the uninitiated first-time-clubbers to those whose dancing shoes have been collecting dust in the back of their wardrobes; we’ve interviewed students from across years and schools to let you in on what Dublin looks like when the street lights are on and the speakers are blasting.

Clubbing has actually become far less popular compared to going to pubs, with most of the students interviewed going to clubs no more than once a week, and some only once or twice a month. Most students interviewed said they found themselves in a pub as often as 2-4 times a week. The majority of people were motivated to go to clubs by events, including drink promotions or nights out organised by groups in Trinity - so keep an eye out for the litany of Ents nights organised during the first few weeks of term! As for recommendations, ‘The George’ is an incredibly popular spot, located on the end of George’s Street and arguably the most famous gay bar in Dublin, and clubs like ‘Xico’s’ and ‘Dicey’s’ remain popular. ‘Tramline’, ‘Pygmalion’, ‘Yamamori Tengu’ and ‘Workmans’ were also mentioned by multiple people, and third-year Lila Funge shouted out their favourite cocktail bar du jour - ‘Electric Circus’ on Talbot Street.

@Lychee800

@its mark kenny

Most people who were of age before the Covid lockdowns said that they went clubbing more before the pandemic, and this change is reflected in the way that people dress when they do find themselves out on the town. Comfort is key, my friends. Almost nobody wears heels if they plan on dancing; as fourthyear Anna Flynn puts it, “I think I wasn’t in high shoes for so long, it made it harder to go back to them.”

Third-year Ella Ayse Burkett said that they “feel most comfortable wearing something expressive, unique, or even more revealing at the George — being a queer person and partying in a queer space means that wearing something I would usually feel uncomfortable in is more safe and celebrated. I often go in a button-up and dress pants, but will some days opt for lingerie/skirt combos depending how I’m feeling.” Sometimes, it’s the details that really count; fourth-year Harry Forkan said “I usually wear a shirt with a tank top, jeans or cargos and boots or sneakers. What I wear has changed, but only insofar as my own fashion taste has changed, I feel. The main thing I consider more now, or the biggest change, is definitely the level of jewellery that I wear”. Second-year Romily Mcginn points out, “Something that I consider differently is definitely the bag I bring out. It took a while for me to establish something that’s going to fit everything I need for a night out which also simultaneously coordinates with outfits I wear.” Even people’s attitude to makeup has changed, as fourth-year Andrea O’Grady Fernandez told me she doesn’t wear “face makeup like foundation anymore.”

Third-year UCD student Mark Kenny said “it’s probably from a mix of maturing and a change in interests but I used to wear skinny jeans and runners etc nowadays I don’t really care about stuff looking (for lack of a better word) ‘pristine’, I just wear my beat up runners and stuff from vintage shops has [sic] a certain worn look that I like” Vintage is definitely the move for making a statement and showing some personality on a night out. Due to the number of vintage shops in Dublin it’s easy to craft a unique outfit, a concern that used to be solved with next day delivery from fast fashion outlets. For fourth-year Lowrie Davies, this is something she has only grown more conscious of as she has spent time in the city. “Since I moved to Dublin that was a really big influence on my style, I felt like instead of ordering stuff online I had more options to go out and buy second hand clothes, so for example I lived near Lucy’s Lounge and places like that. I rarely order online now. I usually go out and have a look at the second hand shops or at least try to buy more from Depop or sustainable brands. I feel like I have more options and feel less and less pressure to wear new clothes. I used to think ‘Oh I posted that on instagram I can’t wear it again’ but now I really don’t care, I’ll post the same thing again and I feel like more and more people are starting to do that.”

@ellaayseb

@h forkan photography

On the other end of the experience are the people who work on the scene and have plenty of great notes to share on what they like to wear out. Second-year Ly Hagan DJs and works in Yamamori Tengu and says when they aren’t DJing they find themselves in ‘Wigwam’, ‘The Bernard Shaw’, ‘Izakaya’, or ‘Sound House’. For them, comfort is key, “I wear pretty casual clothes, I think because I’m a DJ I want to be comfortable in what I’m wearing, so it tends to be jeans and a t-shirt or if it’s hot, a short skirt and loose fitting tee ... I think what I wear has changed a lot, especially when I was younger I felt a lot more self-conscious and felt like I had to adhere to a certain uniform to even be let in ... I wanted to seem more mature, some people feel confident in revealing outfits, but I personally want to be cosy and wear baggy things. I think what I wear has changed because clubbing has become a profession and I don’t really have the energy to dress up for it. Nowadays, I’m most focused on being comfortable. I want to wear shoes I can dance in and clothes I can move in. It defeats the purpose of going clubbing if you can’t really dance, but I don’t think I would go in just a tracksuit either.”

It seems now that personal style is really the rule, express yourself and don’t worry about getting turned away at the door! Today’s clubs are about dancing, so enjoy the ritual of getting ready and don’t go broke trying to keep up with trends. You set the pace. So go forth and dance until you drop!

@Lilafunge

@lowrie daviesx

“I used to believe going out in heels was the only way to go, but now I’d never go out in anything but my Doc Martens.” - Lila

WORDS Grace Maddock

Barbie is back. Whilst minimalist and maximalist trends have battled for this season's crown, the emergence of Barbiecore has proved naysayers wrong; pink is in. In the contemporary fashion world, jewel toned shades have been consigned to fashion hell (in favour of pastels and varying shades of beige). However, this summer has seen an explosion of magenta, and the reemergence of Barbie as a fashion icon.

Celebrities including Lizzo, Anne Hathaway, Millie Mackintosh, and more have embraced ultra feminine, all-pink looks. In July, Florence Pugh donned a cerise pink gown at Valentino's Haute Couture show. Princess Olympia of Greece, a longtime fan of the shade, has featured in pink-hued campaigns for Louis Vuitton. Barbiecore is the latest “core” aesthetic, which refers to trends that are sensationalised by teenagers or young adults on TikTok or Instagram. On TikTok, the hashtag #barbiecore has received over seventeen million views. Instagram reels from high fashion influencers such as Leonne Hanne and Caroline Daur featured a medley of pink-hued outfits. While last summer’s cottagecore embraced rural simplicity, Barbiecore encapsulates vividity and independence. Since its conception in 1959, Barbie has defined what it means to be feminine, transforming into a staple brand and inspiring generations of fashion-forward women. Barbie's slogan “girls can do anything” and her prevalence in pop culture has solidified the relevance the iconic brand. However, in recent decades, Barbie has become obsolete in an era of feminism, androgyny and neutral tones.

However, an immutable fact of fashion is that everything old can be made new again. From the nineties-inspired low

waisted jeans to eighties tie dye trends; fashion is travelling back in time. The rise of Glossier and Scandinavian influencers like Matilda Djerf had relegated hot pink to the noughties; a relic often associated with Paris Hilton and peroxide blonde hair. However, TikTok has become a stream of neon and pink due to the highly anticipated 2023 Barbie remake, directed by Greta Gerwig. 2022 is the new 2002. In recent years, monochrome and neutrals have dominated the fashion industry; and as Y2K has made an unexpected comeback, it was only a matter of time before hot pink appeared on the runways. In March, during Paris Fashion Week, Valentino unveiled a host of dazzling pink designs. In fact, Mashable journalist Meera Navkhla theorised that Valentino creative director Pierpaolo Piccoli was responsible for the proliferation of Barbiecore. Prada and Versace have embraced pink in a similar fashion; with neon pink pieces sprinkled across their latest collections.

While the recent rise of Barbiecore has been well documented, not everyone wants to dive headfirst into all things pink. Incorporating feminine accessories, like bows, skirts and ballerina pumps into your outfits is an easier way to explore the trend. Millennial pink and watermelon hues have carved their way into most of our wardrobes, so don’t be afraid to play with colours. While Barbiecore has gained prominence due to its use of electrifying pink, and eclectic outfits; at its core (excuse the pun), it's about feeling confident in your femininity. Since 2010, runways have been dominated by neutral tones and “business casual” has become the height of sophistication. Fashion has lost its playfulness, and the reemergence of Y2K colour palettes and Barbiecore may be the change we need.

WORDS Rebecca Cleere COLLAGE Aisling Finegan

FASHION

This summer I decided to take a step back from my Depop obsession and shop for more second-hand clothing in-person from small Irish businesses. In doing so, I have constructed this somewhat-objective-but-mostly-subjective analysis of Dublin’s vintage shops (don’t worry, it’s very positive). Finding yourself in Temple Bar on a vintage shopping mission, you’ll be met with most of the city’s second-hand clothing shops; Dublin Vintage Factory, Lucy’s Lounge and Tola Vintage all reside here along with the tourists and Urban Outfitters. You’ve probably been, seen and conquered these shops if you’re a Trinity student who’s lived in Dublin for more than a month, however, this article is intended as an inconclusive guide to browsing second-hand for incoming Eramus students and Freshers, and for vintage shopping pros to find humour in, if there’s humour to be found. So, without further ado, come all and follow me on this fashion hunt through the temple of bars (a truly terrifying place).

Dublin Vintage Factory

You’ll spot Dublin Vintage Factory walking by Merchant’s Arch and instantly find yourself transported back to the 90s. Dublin Vintage Factory has a colourful window display which shows off its selection of printed ski suits and jackets - that originally retailed with sports brands such as Ellesse. Most of the clothing is unisex, including vintage college t-shirts and jumpers, and everything is priced by weight so light items are incredible value. I purchased a gorgeous satin shirt for my sister last Christmas (other things too), and it cost five euro! More recently, Dublin Vintage Factory have added sheer slip dresses to their stock which also come

in at a fiver. These are definitely nightdresses but us fashion girlies have no regard for time-framed clothing, therefore, I can and will wear this seethrough underwear into college. Heavier items such as jackets and trousers cost roughly between twenty and forty euro, which is the most affordable vintage clothing I’ve found in the city. As items are secondhand, some show obvious signs of wear but that’s only to be expected. To conclude: Great value, unique stock, and bonus points for playing Slayyyter in store and always smelling like delicious incense.

Lucy’s Lounge

The second shop on our list will always hold a special place in my heart, as my first memory of vintage shopping is in this pink-painted wonderland. I’ll admit, I’m still somewhat confused as to which part of the shop is actually ‘Lucy’s Lounge,’ but nonetheless, it’s all great! Upstairs there’s jewellery, accessories and tote bags, but downstairs is where you’ll find the clothing. The basement is particularly great at this time of year. They have ah-maze-ing Halloween costumes. I’m talking corsets, tutus, Little-Bo-Peep-core you name it! If you’re looking for costume clothing in general, or to rework old dresses into something new, this is your spot. Only open Saturdays and Sundays, Lucy’s Lounge has mystery and character to it like few other vintage shops around. The owner, Dee, frequently posts photos of customers enjoying a weekend shopping feast on the Instagram page and this summer she celebrated the 40th anniversary of Lucy’s Lounge with nostalgic photos from its early days of existence. The shop’s customer-focus and push for inclusivity creates a comforting vibe that feels like home (either that or I've come here with my parents one too many times).

A Guide to

Dublin’s Vintage Shopping Scene

Tola Vintage

Next door to Lucy’s Lounge is one of the two Tola Vintage shops in town. The other is situated on Crow Street and is exclusively a ‘kilo shop’ where clothing is sold at discounted prices by kilo weight. The business defines itself as ‘a trend-led vintage store’ that specialises in fashion from the 80s and 90s. The Tola Vintage brand has grown such recognition that merchandise with the logo has become a popular addition to the vintage clothing sold. If you’re looking to shop vintage but want something that feels fresh, Tola Vintage also rework some of their second-hand clothing to create one-of-a-kind items, in keeping with current trends. Another section of the shop is dedicated to rare vintage designer pieces, with the list of designers sold to include Burberry, Moschino, Dolce and Gabbana, and Prada, to name but a few. Currently on their website you can find viral vintage gems like the Y2K Roberto Cavalli tops and Moschino low-rise jeans. Tola Vintage is not only recognised as one of the top vintage shops in Ireland, but also as the birthplace of the phrase “Yup Ariana” – a cultural reset. But jokes aside, if Miss Ariana Grande shopped here, you know they’ve got the goods.

Nine Crows

The final destination on our vintage shopping trip is Nine Crows. Firstly, I would like to say that it’s a good thing I’m on minimum wage and have a moderate amount of self-control, because otherwise I would’ve bought the entirety of Nine Crows by now... everything they sell is too darn pretty! It’s on the more expensive side but, for quality and exclusivity, the price is worth it. Similar to Tola Vintage, Nine Crows has a second branch; a thrift shop on Mary Street with bargains

starting at two euro, while Temple Bar has their flagship store and stocks everything from bralettes to necklaces to faux fur jackets. The extensive range of women’s clothing and accessories in their vintage store is always on-trend. Right now, their collection of y2k low rise skirts and candy coloured crop tops could have been swooped straight from Paris Hilton’s noughties wardrobe. But Nine Crows don’t just follow trends, they sell classic vintage basics too, such as knitted grandpa jumpers RANGE! You can find more goodies on the Depop page @shopninecrows in case you would prefer to shop from home, or perhaps in a lecture (understandable).

With a selection of everything from handmade crocheted blankets to 90s Burberry, Dublin’s vintage shops cover new Irish designers and timeless, highend favourites. Since our city has recently been named one of the most expensive in Europe, you probably won’t find any vintage dresses for a euro, like I did at a market in Berlin (sorry, I just had to be pretentious and throw that in). But you can still find sneaky designer items for a fraction of the price they retailed at. For the best experience vintage shopping in Dublin, you need just two essentials with you: time and patience. It takes both qualities to scour the rails for your desired price, size and design but other than that, let your fashion-forward eyes run wild. What are you waiting for? Get out there and start styling because where better to find sustainable, one-of-akind pieces than in Dublin’s vintage shops?! (Other than an arts student’s wardrobe that is).

WORDS Aisling Finegan COLLAGE Aisling Finegan

In Her Eyes: The Female Gaze in Portrait of a Lady on Fire

If you are a lover of film, you may have heard of Portrait of a Lady on Fire. Directed by Céline Sciamma and released in 2019, this French historical romance has been hailed by many critics as the definition of the female gaze in cinema. The female gaze, was a term originally coined in the seventies and has become somewhat of a buzzword lately in the film world. It refers to feminist literary theory in which a female creator of a work depicts female characters and the world through their eyes as being inherently and more importantly, authentically feminine. We’ve seen directors such as Sofia Coppola and Greta Gerwig incorporate this theory in many of their works, and the frequency in which this term can be used to describe a film is thankfully on the rise despite the overwhelming lack of female representation in directing.

We see excellent use of this style in Portrait of a Lady on Fire. Set in eighteenth century France, it is a tale of forbidden love, the artist and her muse with a Shakespearean poignancy of the star-crossed lovers trope. It follows two female characters, Marianne played by Noémie Merlant, an artist who is sent to secretly paint a wedding

portrait of Héloïse, an unknowing subject, played by Adèle Haenel. As the two women fall in love, we see exactly how the idea of the female gaze is so deeply entrenched in every aspect of this film. The intimacy in this film is slow-moving, lingering, and gentle with an air of softness to it - yet the anger beneath the depths of this female tenderness is ever present and palpable. It is an anger with the injustice of their places as women in a male dominated world .

Marianne struggles to paint Héloïse. Her first attempt is passionately rejected by Héloïse, who only just then finds out the truth about Marianne’s visit and is angry not only at the deception, but at learning that this is how Marianne sees her. The essence of Héloïse is impossible to capture until both women accept to live in the truth of who they really are. When their relationship deepens we see Héloïse’s character develop from being quiet, serious and unhappy (as portrayed in Marianne’s first portrait of her), to being filled with life and emotion (as seen in the final portrait.)

We often see the camera linger on close-up shots of their bodies in a drawn-out and intimate style. Something as simple as a shot of a hand resting on a lap becomes

symbolic of want and desire. The intent in which they slowly learn to understand each other speaks to the creation of the portrait. The nape of the neck, the crease behind the ear or the depths of the eyes are poured over with purposeful concentration. However, the artist must study her subject on equally internal and external levels to create her final masterpiece, the realised portrait, the fruition of requited love.

So why is this microscopic detailing of the human anatomy so common in Sciamma’s portrayal of the female gaze? When the world does not make space for the women, their scope is reduced. To leverage their power against this is to have the ability to find beauty in the minutia of moments. The narrowing of the eyes or the flicker of a hand, will speak to an entire inner world of feeling. It gives a sense of expansion in even the most restrictive of spaces. This is why the beach and the sea are such important and symbolic places in the film. At the beach, when Héloïse wants to go for a swim, Marianne asks her whether she can swim or not. Héloïse responds that she does not know, however, even after she goes out to swim, she still does not know whether she can do so or not.

The act of swimming is a metaphor for freedom, and Héloïse, a gay woman being forced into marriage, will never know true freedom. Despite all of this, the water, like Marianne, quells the fire within her.

Their positions in their relationship are polarised and elemental. Marianne is a woman who can live with some degree of autonomy, she does not need to marry, and she can live independently thanks to her career. Throughout the film, she flows through the various stages of her life with a water-like fluidity. Héloïse however, does not have this luxury. Moreover, whatever semblance of independence she has is taken from her when she is asked to leave the monastery to get married. Her despair burns with heated anger and the elements aid her in becoming a physical manifestation of her passion. She is a lady on fire.

When they are on the beach, Marianne acknowledges the difference in their positions in life. However, Héloïse responds by saying that, ‘We’re in the same place, we’re in exactly the same place.’ The two women share the same desires and sense of injustice in the world, despite not sharing the same opportunities. As their relationship grows, they begin to see each other through

one another’s eyes with Héloïse taking on Marianne’s large, distinctive eyes as her own. Their love and understanding of their similarities and differences has merged their souls into one. It is a literal representation of looking at oneself through the gaze of another female.

A noticeable element of Portrait of a Lady on Fire is its distinct lack of male characters. In this space without men, there is no need for performative smiles, laughter, or societal expectations of displays of contentment. In the female-centric space, being angry is allowed, moreover, it is understood. It is finding power in the inherent pain of womanhood. Over time, with the allowance of anger towards the injustice of the patriarchal world, laughter comes naturally. In lifting the weight of oppression, even temporarily, space is created for the ebb and flow of genuine, unrestrained emotion, just like the sea they frequent which is always in flux and never apologetic. This liminal state is brought to an abrupt end with the introduction of a man, Héloïse’s prospective husband. His presence is jarring given the lack of male faces throughout the film, he is an alien being, an unsafe intruder in their dream world, purposeful yet ignorant in representing the end of their romance.

Years on, after the heartache of losing one another, it is Marianne who sees Héloïse twice. She spots a portrait of her in a gallery she is exhibiting in and she sees her again at an orchestra performance, but Héloïse does not notice her back. From a distance, Marianne watches Héloïse finally enjoy the full form of the music Marianne modestly played for her on the piano years previously. We watch Héloïse once again, through Marianne’s perspective. Her face displays a vast array of emotions – of pain, pleasure, loss and love. She has ironically attended the performance alone, she now has the freedom to do this due to her marriage. In this full circle moment of closure, Marianne the painter studies the intricacies of Héloïse for the very last time, separated by the length of the concert hall, once again, unbeknownst to her.

Sciamma’s Portrait of a Lady on Fire proves how the representation of the female gaze in film provides an earth-shattering and visceral sense of poignancy when it comes to love and romance. It is simple, idiosyncratic, and most importantly, it evokes a very rare feeling of reality and authenticity to this epic love story.

WORDS Fionnuala Short

In an industry increasingly saturated with the shallow and uninspired content of the superhero genre, spine-chiller extraordinaire Jordan Peele, writer and director of Get Out and Us, returns to provide a welcome respite from caped crusaders with a thrilling, nuanced and creative horror blockbuster.

NOPE follows siblings OJ and Emerald Haywood, horse trainers who provide steeds for Hollywood productions, and descendants of the jockey featured in the legendary ‘Plate 626’ reel of a galloping horse, captured by Eadweard Muybridge. When bizarre power outages, weather phenomena and “bad miracles” begin to stir up on their quiet, secluded farm, OJ witnesses a flying saucer race through the sky. In a bid to grab fame, the duo decide to capture seemingly impossible footage of the extra-terrestrial visitors, but in doing so, put themselves in far more danger than one could ever imagine.

Unlike his role in Get Out, Daniel Kaluuya’s OJ is a reserved and stoic individual, akin to the aloof cowboy of a Sergio Leone spaghetti western. Keke Palmer on the other hand is wonderfully charming as the extroverted Emerald, a loquacious social butterfly with a carefree attitude. Unfortunately, despite their delightful chemistry, both characters fail to undergo any form of development, regardless of the incredible and life-altering events they experience over the course of the film. The same can also be said for all their co-stars. Joining the siblings is Walking Dead star Steven Yuen, playing Ricky ‘Jupe’ Park, a theme park manager whose traumatic past continues to haunt him years later. Breakout star Brandon Perea provides much of the comedic relief as Angel, a techsavvy UFO enthusiast, and Michael Wincott’s gritty portrayal of a seasoned filmmaker, Antlers Holst, creates a strong screen presence to round off the small but memorable cast.

Peele’s cinematography embellishes the narrative beautifully. Now granted a blockbuster budget, the director uses every penny to produce some truly jaw-dropping shots, particularly during the third act. You won’t even notice the retro Hollywood process, aptly dubbed ‘Day for Night,’ which magically masks the fact that each night scene was shot under the blazing sun. Composer Michael Abels also returns after Peele’s previous horror flicks to lift each scene

through a rich and resonant score, capturing the wonder of alien life and the chilling truth behind it.

This film, perhaps more so than Peele’s previous projects, is one for an audience intrigued by, and passionate about cinema. Evidently it was created by someone who adores the art form, drawing from past classics to produce something refreshing. Nods to the art of cinema, such as Muybridge’s historical horse reel, or filmmaker Antlers Holst’s obsession with capturing “the impossible shot,” all delineate passion for film-making and movies. If you’re only interested in a light, colourful, thoughtless popcorn flick, à la Marvel Studios, then this won’t be to your taste. NOPE is art, to be appreciated on the biggest screen available with a top-notch sound system, not on your TV on one of the countless streaming services currently trending.

In true Jordan Peele fashion, there is more than meets the eye with his latest cinematic endeavour. Get Out

tackled racism, Us touched on class disparity, and NOPE revolves around both spectacle and greed. Even the title, NOPE, is a hidden acronym for Not of Planet Earth. Such nuance is the reason why, ideally, one should walk into the cinema with as little knowledge of the film as possible. Its eerie enigmatic plot is one of the primary facets of Peele’s sci-fi experience, engrossing the audience in a narrative that will keep them on their toes for much of the first and second act. Unfortunately, the primary theme is explored further in a subplot surrounding Steve Yeun’s character, which, although exciting, has no ties to the Haywood’s perilous face off with the UFO. Its inclusion is one that will require a quick Google search after the credits roll, dissecting the hidden meaning behind the hair-raising sequence, and one must ask, if an audience is left confused and pondering the incorporation of such a scene, is it imperative that it be featured? The answer is no. Where NOPE also falls flat is the length of its introduction, lugging through twenty-five minutes

before finally kicking the story into action, and its third act. There are certainly some breath-taking moments during the finale, and it begins pulsing with tension and excitement, but continues for a little too long, and closes with a weird mix of satisfaction and disappointment.

Overall, despite its unnecessary subplot, dragged introduction and mixed finale, NOPE provides a welcome release from the cookie-cutter formula of Marvel and DC. Utilizing a charming score, its creative twist on a classic tale, memorable characters, and gorgeous cinematography, it’s bound to satisfy a particular audience searching for a thrill ride they can appreciate. Get Out remains Jordan Peele’s magnum opus, but it wouldn’t be a surprise to see NOPE become a cult classic in years to come.

WORDS Sean Romera McCarthy

The Soulsbourne series is one of those rare series in gaming where the name alone draws immediate and daunting connotations to mind. Creative boss fights, interconnected levelling, and most of all, difficulty. The series has garnered such a reputation for its gruelling difficulty that it is easy to be put off and to overlook the other elements that make up these games and give their world their impressive level of texture and feeling. These are, at their core, games about exploration and discovery, games that deliver thrills based entirely on the triumphs of the people playing them. The difficulty comes part in parcel with that, but only to enhance the ecstatic feeling of triumph that emerges from beating that boss, progressing to that next area, or finding that shortcut that will save the arduous run from the last checkpoint.

FromSoftware Inc’s newest release, Elden Ring, perfectly encapsulates this appeal. A game based solely on the premise of exploration and choice, from almost the very offset you are free to ride off in whatever direction you choose and face whatever challenge is in that direction. And it will always be hard. One of the most significant changes Elden Ring brought to the Soulsbourne dungeon crawl formula was the ability to decide for yourself the direction of this gruelling game experience. Players could progress from the game’s starting location, Limgrave, to Stormveil Castle, the game’s first legacy dungeon, for a linear experience that rewarded players based on the level of challenge they faced, a challenge which matched player’s then early level game status. However, players could bypass Limgrave entirely, and instead progress to areas such as Liurnia of the Lakes or Weeping Peninsula. These areas offered far more of a challenging experience for players and rewarded players for that challenge.

The particular difficulty of the Soulsbourne series is what makes these choices feel rewarding. Exploration has always been a key staple to the Soulsbourne series, and Elden Ring just expanded it, bringing a total freedom to how exploration played out. But no one can forget the feeling of dread from creeping into the subterranean Blight Town in Dark Souls, or the dilapidated ruin of Old Yharnam in Bloodborne. These games had a far more linear format and yet still made exploration feel natural and rewarding. Exploration means the discovery of loot, an invisible passage, or a snippet of lore. One genius move made by FromSoftware in developing these titles, was the placement of incredibly important NPCs or a random, yet important piece of lore in ridiculously obscure

A LOOK AT THE SOULSBOURNE SERIES

locations. This fosters a desire within players to explore and discover. The use of difficulty simply means this exploration is all the more rewarding.

This interplay between rewarding exploration and difficulty is not something that is solely limited to Soulsbourne games of course. Most open world games come with a difficulty setting and the choice to ramp up the toughness if the going gets too easy. Games such as The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt allow for a difficulty mode akin to the difficulty in Soulsbourne games, in which even the lowest level enemy can kill you in three hits and defeating a pack of wolves can take ten minutes. But this only reveals another core appeal that is attached to the Soulsbourne games. Game series like The Witcher, Elder Scrolls or other fantasy RPGs allow you the choice as to which level of challenge you feel comfortable with. Soulsbourne games do not afford players that luxury.

In place of this comfort, you are faced with a challenge that you know is well beyond what you would consider your skill level, and at the start, it is. You are consistently surprised by how every enemy is seemingly killing you with ease. You spend hours grinding your way through the first level, tepidly turning every corner until finally you reach the boss at the end! And that only seems to add another layer of game-induced insecurity. But this I think is where the appeal begins for people. My first Soulsbourne game was Dark Souls III (technically Dark Souls II but we try to forget about that one), and I remember the process of making my way slowly through the first level in Lordran and coming up against Dark Souls III’s first main boss. And I lost. So many times. I put the game down for a while but kept coming back to it because by that point I had spent so long trying to beat that first level, I had to see what was hiding on the other side of the boss fight. And eventually, after over a hundred attempts, I beat it and progressed. And the

feeling from that was immediately appealing. These are games that are brutally uncompromising, but once you find yourself moving at their speed, slowly making your way through areas, and carefully considering the best method to take down the next boss, the feeling of victory that comes is almost unparalleled. At no point in playing video games like Skyrim did I get the feeling of satisfaction from defeating another bandit by bopping him with my sword, axe, or [insert weapon here]. Compared to the feeling of defeating the bandits in the Undead Burg in Dark Souls, enemies who can easily kill you if your timing is not right, these fights in Skyrim often feel hollow.

Possibly one of the biggest misconceptions about these games is that they are games of endurance. They’re not. They are games of adaptability. Players need to adapt to the different playstyle these games ask for, where many enemies cannot be rushed and where each scenario the player finds themselves in is one where constant awareness of one’s surroundings is key. If players adapt to this harsh playstyle, they find a world where exploration is not only rewarding but is personal. The struggle to make your way through a particularly punishing part of the map and the victory felt when that struggle is overcome feels personal, and the adrenaline

"One of the biggest misconceptions about these games is that they are games of endurance. They’re not. They are games of adaptability."

As far back as I can remember, I have been playing video games. While I have come to accept the grim reality of being labelled a ‘gamer’, a term mashed through ten layers of irony by the internet in the past decade, it was a concept that never really occurred to me when I was young. Whilst I played video games, I was not invested in (and/or unhealthily fixated on) any particular one in the same way that I tend to become nowadays, as any of my former housemates could tell you. I was, also, not very good at them. Due to the moderately firm influence of my parents, I was not actually allowed to catapult myself into gaming head on, limited to a sensible ‘only on weekends, for a couple of hours’ rule. This all changed around the age of 11, after I got Minecraft on the family PC, became obsessed, and figured out that I could play secretly, a lot, while my parents were at work. Coinciding more or less with the onset of both puberty and pocket money, this marked the beginning of a new chapter. First of all, though, I want to talk about my experiences before that, starting very early on.

My dad bought a PS2 slim around the time I was three years old, and pretty soon, he started letting me play on it. Before this, however, I ought to mention the earliest game that I remember playing. It wasn’t on a console. It was an unhinged game named Bush Royal Rampage, in which you played as both George W. Bush and the Queen of England smashing through London taking down terrorists shooting-gallery style. The Queen slays with her purple assault rifle. I went back and replayed the game while writing, and the first thing the game asks you is if you are 14 years old. My dad must have misread that as 4. One thing that I am concerned about for children today is that they may not be exposed to the treasure trove of browser games that I grew up with, playing classics such as the Papa Louie series and all of the old Nitrome games. They are like the tapas of gaming. You get to try the flavour of lots of different dishes but none of them will fill you up individually like a full meal will.

Anyway, let’s come back to the PS2, the sturdiest console I’ve ever owned. Unlike most of my friends

who played video games, I was stuck with the PS2 until I turned 16, when I eventually gathered up the money to buy my mate’s old PS3. One thing that I miss about that era of gaming was that nearly any film or franchise coming out had a tie-in game. The earliest game I remember playing on it was Peter Jackson’s King Kong, and I’d go on to own several: Ratatouille, Shrek Super Slam, and even Coraline: The Game, although I never got round to playing the latter. These film-games in particular remind me of a sensation that I rarely feel these days; being genuinely rubbish at games. I don’t mean getting pummelled at the start of Dark Souls-type rubbish, I mean missing some blatantly obvious hint on screen and just muddling through-type rubbish. This doesn’t just apply to film-games, but their obvious rushed quality in many cases (with notable exceptions such as Return of the King and Star Wars: Battlefront) highlights my point. As a child, there was a sense of genuine wonder at the created world of a game, well before I developed the critical lens of understanding gameplay loops and noticing bugs. Video games were not titles to be compared between each other and get bored of, but experiences that felt entirely unique from one another, even if they were mechanically basic. If I could recommend a game that exemplifies this wonderful mediocrity, I would tell you to play Pitfall: The Lost Expedition, one of my all-time favourites.

The older I got, the more out of date my PS2 console became, and more of my friends began to get newer consoles or play games their parents bought them on the computer. I remember very clearly the mix of envy and excitement I would feel when I was at the house of a friend with a newer console or games. When I was about 8, I had a friend, Adam, who’s

A Retrospective on Childhood Gaming

"The earliest game that I remember playing wasn’t on a console. It was an unhinged game named Bush Royal Rampage, in which you played as both George W. Bush and the Queen of England smashing through London taking down terrorists shooting-gallery style."

house I loved going to, because we could play Smash Brawl, Minecraft, and the new Lego Star Wars, among others. As a child, so many of these games were out of my reach because I wasn’t getting any money to upgrade my stuff and my parents thought I was fine with the PS2, which, in fairness, I was. As a result, every time I got to play a game that was of a newer generation than the PS2, or on PC, or the Wii, it was an event for me.

Nowadays, I have a PS4 and my creaky laptop can run a few games, so I’m able to easily access the vast majority of games that I’m interested in playing. However, I think that the ease of access combined with the pandemic meant that I’ve lost the excitement to play most new games, with some rare exceptions. Without a doubt, the perceived scarcity of games during childhood added to the mystery and wonder

of playing new ones.

As I reach the end of this retrospective, I notice that I sound a little jaded about gaming these days. In reality, I’m not, but looking back on my childhood experiences has made me realise that what I’m missing now is the ability to enjoy any new game, easy as it might be. This summer I tried playing the original Crash Bandicoot, and I have to say that, playing it for the first time, I found it a little too simple and boring. But as a child, I wouldn’t have cared. This is partially because I would have been a lot worse at it, and partially because I would have been happy to get to play a new game. I appreciate the way that gaming felt as a child, but I don’t much care to go back to that. I’m happy enough to break my brain playing Sekiro again for the nth time.

ILLUSTRATION Maxine Boudway

WORDS Finn Brannigan

Overwatch 2 is penned to be launched on the 4th of October as the sequel to the multiplayer first person shooter that won multiple Game of the Year awards and was considered by many to be the best original intellectual property of the 2010’s. Yet surprisingly, there hasn’t been much intrigue around the upcoming sequel to the spiritual successor of Team Fortress 2, despite the initial success that Overwatch enjoyed upon its launch in 2016.

Anyone who has followed the game for several years will tell you that it did not shape up to be the juggernaut of online gaming that it was expected to be due to a combination of bad decisions from the game’s developers and unfortunate circumstances. It remains to be seen whether the launch of Overwatch 2 will be able to restore the franchise to its former glory, however it seems certain that it will decisively reveal whether there is anything left in the tank for this title, or if it has reached the twilight of its complicated and underwhelming run.

Although it’s clear that the game’s developer, Blizzard, has been focusing its resources on

Overwatch 2, one cannot help but feel that the cards are stacked against the project before it has even left the ground. The initial appeal of Overwatch was one of casual fun in which players could explore the different characters and in each one experience a unique playstyle which may or may not appeal to them. Indeed, when the game shipped in 2016 it did not even have a competitive mode, and at times it feels like it was better for it. The game’s strong and unique identity had the gaming world infatuated from the start. It enjoyed a reputation of polish and excellence in all facets of game design for a few years, and then things started to go sour. Blizzard established the Overwatch League to function as the game’s premier Esports circuit, modelling the project after traditional American sports leagues such as the NBA or the NFL, complete with localised franchising. Already the identity the game had established was beginning to become muddled. Why did an online video game which could be played by anybody around the world need localised teams? This was a controversial decision that many felt went against the ethos of Esports. Communities of gamers had spent decades trying to

establish Epsorts as its own thing, and here was Blizzard who seemed to be reversing that progress and attempting to pander to mainstream audiences, which, while logical from a business perspective, did not go down well with notoriously tribal Esports communities. It was no surprise when the League failed to log any significant growth and spent most of its run in the first installment of the series in a seemingly perpetual state of downsizing; a stark contrast to the monolithic buy-ins that Blizzard was asking investors to make to have a spot in their league.

While the Overwatch League fiasco is a good example of Blizzard’s penchant for making questionable business decisions, they’re also known to make questionable balancing decisions, sometimes leading fans to wonder whether anyone at Blizzard had actually played the game in the first place. As the game aged and got figured out, the idea of a diverse cast of over thirty characters which could be swapped in and out of one’s team composition at any moment quickly fizzled out and gave way to predefined compositions that had been worked out and identified as the best way to play.

Overwatch 2 is set to release in little over a month after years of truly turbulent development.

WORDS Robert Crossen

At times, it got so bad that there was a good chance you would lose the game before it had even started if you didn’t pick the correct six characters that were known to be the strongest.

Character diversity became a thing of the past as players would spend months perfecting the same team compositions and playstyles, while Blizzard seemed to view character balancing and parity with a sense of frivolity, seldom changing anything up. Players gradually grew disheartened with this handling of the game, sometimes prompting Blizzard to make band-aid fixes for problems that they had allowed to fester for months or years.

The trend that I’ve been trying to highlight is one of Blizzard being paradoxically inimical towards the very identity of the game they created. At a certain point when it seemed that the game had crossed the event horizon, rendering it unable to revert to the state of gaiety with which it had taken the gaming world by storm, Blizzard announced Overwatch 2. Many were taken aback by this as Blizzard had promised upon Overwatch’s initial release that the game would have no downloadable content, and yet this announcement seemed like a way to skirt around the by-laws that they had set out. People perceived the announcement as an attempt at damage control to atone for their mishandling of Overwatch, as well as to take eyes off scandals that had been occurring within the company. While one cannot know the exact motivations, the questionable circumstances around the announcement set the tone for

what would be a rough development cycle plagued by delays. While Blizzard focused their resources on the sequel, they almost entirely neglected the original game for years which severely dwindled the player base and effectively placed all their eggs into one basket, requiring Overwatch 2 to be a major success.

To add insult to injury, Blizzard has attempted to garner interest in the game by having the professional players play an early version of Overwatch 2 in the Overwatch League, but this has backfired in multiple ways. It places a wedge between casual players and professional players, as fans are no longer able to watch their favourite players play the same game as them. In addition, many view this decision negatively and feel that Blizzard are making their professional players compete in an unfinished game which is liable to all sorts of glitches and stability issues.

This brings us to today. Overwatch 2 is set to release in little over a month after years of truly turbulent development. While many are hopeful and feel that Blizzard has made some key changes which will extend the longevity of the franchise, such as changing the game from a six versus six to a five versus five format, the buzz which surrounded the Overwatch launch in 2016 is undeniably absent this time around. The one thing that is for certain is that first impressions are important, and the first impressions of Overwatch 2 will be a make-or-break moment for the franchise.

Make-or-Break Month

FOR LOVE OR MONEY?

The Percy Jackson remakes and nostalgia

rom the live action remakes of animated Disney movies to the Star Wars sequels, people are starting to identify adaptation with badly made cash-grabs preying on our nostalgia. Nostalgia is powerful for the same reason it’s predatory; it promises to fulfil an ideal to the point of self-deception. When it doesn’t fulfil that ideal, you get something like Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief (2010). If you’re a fan of the Percy Jackson books series, or know someone who is, you probably already know how detested this adaptation is. I count myself among the haters, but when I heard that Rick Riordan would be more involved in the upcoming Disney+ adaptation, I found myself getting excited at the idea of seeing an author-led vision come to life.

FFrom the live action remakes of animated Disney movies to the Star Wars sequels, people are starting to identify adaptation with badly made cash-grabs preying on our nostalgia. Nostalgia is powerful for the same it’s predatory; it promises to fulfil an ideal to point of self-deception. When it doesn’t fulfil that ideal, you get like Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief (2010). If you’re a fan of the Percy Jackson books series, or know someone who is, you probably already know how detested this adaptation is. I count myself among the haters, but when I heard that Rick Riordan would be more involved in the upcoming Disney+ adaptation, I found myself getting excited at the idea of seeing an author-led vision come to life.

A childhood spent reading about mythical road trips until one in the morning was knocking at the door of my mind. A cursory glance around the internet told me I wasn’t the only one – old fans came out of the woodwork when the new show was announced. They created art, talked about the personal importance of the series and hoped that the adaptation would be true to the books. But what is the ‘truth’ in the books? Why do these books, which are themselves beat-forbeat retellings of ancient myths, have such a hold on readers?

A childhood spent reading about mythical road trips until one in the morning was knocking at the door of my mind. A glance around the internet told me I wasn’t the only one – old fans came out of woodwork when new show was announced. They created art, talked about the personal importance of the series and hoped that the adaptation would be true to the books. But ‘truth’ in the books? Why do these books, which are themselves beat-forbeat retellings of myths, have such a hold on readers?

I’m certainly nostalgic for a time when fifteen seemed to be an ancient, unreachable age. As a nine year old, I remember seeing Percy, Annabeth and the rest as larger-than-life heroes. Now I just wonder how Chiron could let a bunch of thirteen year olds go running around the country without an older teen to help them out, at the very least. The series is a reminder of when the weird world of high school and college was something distant that I didn’t have to worry about.

I’m certainly nostalgic for a time when fifteen seemed to be an ancient, unreachable age. As a nine year old, I remember seeing Percy, Annabeth and the rest as larger-than-life heroes. Now I just wonder how Chiron could let a bunch of thirteen year olds go running around the country without an older teen to help them out, at the very least. The series is a reminder of when the weird world of high school and college was something distant that I didn’t have to worry about.

Another reassuring element was Camp Half-Blood.

Another reassuring element was Camp Half-Blood.

The summer camp returned the characters to the same place again and again, giving the series a familiar focal point. It was guaranteed that the heroic training grounds of Camp Half-Blood would be there. In a way, we were all returning to the camp every time we opened the book. It gave its readers a sense of unity. We all wanted the orange t-shirts and debated who our divine parent was. It was a place, albeit a fictional one, where we could all find our niche regardless of where we fit in in the real world.

The characters were just as important as the setting. The cast selected for the roles, as well as the new flood of fanart, shows all the ways that the characters are imagined, even years after setting the books aside. Remembering my favourites from the line-up is like reading a diary from my younger self: I like Annabeth because she’s smart and I was always called a smart kid; Nico because he had an aviator jacket and the goth aesthetic I was never brave enough to pull off. Even the gods are endearing, such as Iris in her hippy shop, or grounded, like Zeus wearing a pinstripe suit. Riordan’s connection between the divine and the mundane, shows that the strange intricacies of the adult world aren’t as grave and cryptic as they seem.

The summer camp returned the characters to the same place again and again, giving the series a familiar focal point. It was guaranteed that heroic training grounds Half-Blood be there. In a way, we all camp every time we opened the book. readers a sense of unity. all wanted t-shirts debated our divine was a place, a one, all find our niche of where we fit the real world. The characters were just setting. The cast selected the new flood of fanart, all the ways that characters are imagined, years the books aside. Remembering from the line-up reading younger self: I like because and I was called a smart Nico he had an aviator jacket goth was never brave enough pull off. are endearing, such Iris in her hippy grounded, like Zeus wearing pinstripe Riordan’s connection between the divine mundane, the adult world as grave seem.

Seeing characters we connect to navigate the weird world of myth is comforting. Combining comingof-age tales with mythical worlds is not unusual by any means – most children’s fiction centres around this concept. Riordan doesn’t just reframe ancient myths in a modern setting; he gives them new heroes. C. S. Lewis sums up the idea succinctly: ‘Since it is so likely that (children) will meet cruel enemies, let them at least have heard of brave knights and heroic courage. Otherwise you are

Seeing characters we connect world of myth of-age tales with mythical unusual any – most this concept. Riordan doesn’t myths in a setting; heroes. C. S. Lewis the ‘Since it is so likely that (children) will enemies, let them at least heard knights and heroic

WORDS Maxine Boudway

making their destiny not brighter but darker.’ Although, as I mentioned earlier, several kids fighting a bunch of monsters seems unrealistic, that isn’t the point. Riordan’s books are meant to teach kids that they can take on anything. This lesson gets revived whenever I return to the books, even though I’ve left my childhood behind.

destiny not but darker.’ as I mentioned earlier, several a bunch of monsters seems that isn’t point. Riordan’s are to teach they can anything. This lesson revived I the books, even though all many of us old books follow the development. Although is can upon, it can carefully. Nostalgia isn’t an longing the past – it’s a strategy past for our present and future. learned or just a of past has offer so we can remember all a bit of the and from those as hopefully emerge

This above all is why so many of us old readers return to the books and follow the show's development. Although nostalgia is something that can be preyed upon, it can be handled carefully. Nostalgia isn’t just an unhealthy longing for the past – it’s a strategy to use the past for our present and future. Whether it’s lessons we’ve learned or just a reassuring feeling of belonging, the past has something to offer us so we can remember to move on. I think we all want a bit of the community and determination from those books, or others, as we hopefully emerge from the pandemic.

Not every adaptation or reboot will be fulfilling to watch for all of us. But we return to old material for the same reason that it’s remade, to remember the power that they have. The original has the seed of something, different in every work of literature, that attracts us to it. Even disappointing adaptations that result from this remind us of what should’ve been done right, and what we loved about the original. Regardless of how the Percy Jackson show turns out, I’m glad it brought me down memory lane to remind me of the good parts of the past, which I hope to see again in the future.

every reboot be fulfilling for all of us. we return to old same reason that it’s remade, that they have. The has seed of something, different of attracts us it. disappointing adaptations that us of what should’ve we loved about of how the Percy show turns I’m glad it brought lane to remind me of the which I hope to see

“Riordan’s books are meant to teach kids that they can take on anything. This lesson gets revived whenever I return to the books, even though I’ve left my childhood behind.”

STEPPING OUT OF SCRIPTS

WORDS Bruna Ciulli

This article references sexual assualt.

In Either/Or by Elif Batuman, novels lead our protagonist into harm’s way. This much anticipated sequel to 2017’s The Idiot follows the sophomore year of Harvard student Selin in the late 1990s. Either/Or is a piece of autofiction and as such recounts the process by which both Selin and Batuman were negatively affected by classic novels from Eugene Onegin to Nadja.

Why then would Batuman choose to write the story of Either/ Or as a novel rather than a memoir? Batuman has responded that recounting her own life and memories is an inherently imaginative exercise. Perhaps memoir, as a genre, only matters insofar as verifiable facts matter. When the facts of a person’s circumstance or experience define a story, the memoir shines. Chanel Miller was assaulted by Brock Turner in 2015. This assault and the trial then media and Stanford University’s misrespresentations and mishandling of the assault and trial matter for Miller’s vital advocacy for her own personhood, reform of instutional responses to sexual assault, and wider issues of consent and misogyny addressed in her acclaimed 2019 memoir Know My Name.

But Either/Or does not have such a clear relation to truth. Selin experiences incidents of sexual violence and discomfort within Either/Or true to Batuman’s experience, so why not write about them as a ‘true story?’ Either/Or is not anti-fact. Selin’s work in Turkey for the ‘Let’s Go’ travel guide is largely to update and verify the travel guide so it can remain factual. However, Either/Or is aware that solitary facts are meaningless. Rather, facts tell stories and beg questions. In Selin’s work for ‘Let’s Go’, she doesn’t know what to do with the facts she is presented with. She finds herself torn between Turkish and American ideas of (ethically and aesthetically) good travel. Asking questions becomes a practice of freedom for Selin even when she’s at her lowest. In some sense, questioning and imagining come second to truth in the novel’s liberatory mission.

I am reminded of a passage from Maggie Nelson’s On Freedom: Four Songs of Care and Constraint. She writes, “Interpretation is never a static activity; very rarely does one story ‘stick’ throughout a life. As we go along, we often find the stories we have been telling ourselves don’t work any longer; we find we need to change them, so that they can do different work for us, accommodate new sets of knowledge and insight. It is in this sense that there is no such thing as a true story. This does not mean that all facts are fungible, nor does it mean that we don’t each have a right to our own stories. It just means that the events of our lives will appear differently to us at different times, and that our attraction, aversion, or indifference to objects, people, or events is always conditioned by our state of mind. We tend to grow tired of our stories over time; we tend to learn from them what they have to teach, then bore of their singular lens. I see [Monica] Lewinsky’s shifting take on her story as a practice of freedom in its own right, a claim on an indeterminacy unopposed to clarity.”

Similarly, in Either/Or, freedom is practised through shifting moments of interpretation. The novel resists rigid and prescriptive stories. Selin’s questions and observations build as they are exposed to a variety of narratives. In a short “False Starts” interview with Granta after the release of The Idiot, Batuman explains that telling stories is how we process the ‘data dump of information’ that is ‘actual unmediated reality.’ The existence of an ‘actual unmediated reality’ suggests there are many mediated realities created by stories, in which some ‘truth gets lost.’ In The Unreality of Memory Elisa Gabbert refers to a short story by Madeline Yale Wynne named The Little Room, about the seemingly changing imaginings and realities of a room in a Vermont home, writing that, ‘You could say the story is about unreliable memory, the ultimate unknowability of the past, the impossibility of securing a single version of the truth. But it doesn’t feel that way when you are reading it; it feels like the house in Vermont belongs to two realities. You don’t know which reality you’re in until you open the door.’

Either/Or could have also been about all those things. However, by writing from young Selin’s perspective, Batuman has made the novel belong to its own reality in which the world is questioned and interpreted, against other realities, from that particular perspective. Within the reality of the novel more narrative realities are created, including Svetlana’s. Svetlana maintains that Selin is destined to live an aesthetic life as opposed to her ethical life. This, of course, mirrors Kirkegaard’s Either/Or, from which the novel takes its name. While Svetlana’s ‘ethical’ life leads her to be content with a life of meaningless conversation, Selin’s ‘aesthetic’ year plays out as if it were modelled on the books of the European literary canon.

Possibly the greatest selling point of Either/Or and The Idiot is that they are brilliantly funny. Selin’s dry wit underpins Either/Or’s more meta-textual themes and critiques. It is often remarked that comedy is tragedy with distance, or specificity (truth) exaggerated (untruth). It is funny to see someone so inquisitive and astute searching for someone to tell her how to live. (Tragedy with distance?) In this sense, comedy cannot commit to being Either/Or. It only happens at the intersections of the aesthetic and the ethical, the real and the unreal, the merging of realities.

At the end of the novel, Selin scorns Henry James and Gustave Flaubert’s writing on behalf of supposedly banal or talentless women. Instead, Selin ‘would write the goddamn book myself.’ In the final moments, the multiple realities inside and outside the book collapse together as Selin rejects a life dictated by others and Batuman’s own voice pierces through Selin’s narration. It becomes clear why Either/Or had to be a novel and not a memoir. As Selin arrives in Russia, at last stepping ‘outside the script’, I smile. Batuman wrote the goddamn book herself.

Review of E ither/Or by Elif Batuman

“In some sense, questioning and imagining come second to truth in the novel’s liberatory mission.”

MUSIC

WOLF ALICE

Taking to the stage on the 29th of August Wolf Alice, the alternative rock 4 piece from London, had their fans waiting restlessly in the seats and standing pit of the 3Olympia. Having postponed their concert in Dublin from the beginning of this year to the 29th and 30th of August, new and old fans alike waited impatiently for the lights to dim, and for the hypnotic guitar riffs and unmistakable voice of lead singer Ellie Roswell to commence.

Having only recently become a massive fan of Wolf Alice, the excitement and apprehension I felt prior to their gig was palpable. Whilst listening to a This is Wolf Alice playlist the evening before the concert, I recalled having seen a very young and unfamiliar Wolf Alice perform as an opening act for The 1975 in 2016. At that time, the four piece consisting of Ellie Roswell (lead vocals), Joff Oddie (lead guitar), Theo Ellis (bass) and Joel Amey (drums) had yet to establish their distinct indie rock sound nor their unapologetic performance style. However, after seeing multiple clips from their Glastonbury, Reading and Leeds sets, I was more than confident that the Wolf Alice I had once witnessed in 2016, would not be the same band to grace the stage of the 3Olympia.

Opening for the band were up and coming Irish rock band Just Mustard. The Dundalk five piece filled the room with their shoegaze and post-punk sounds. Mind bending synthing guitar melodies mixed with belting drums as Katie Ball and David Noonan provided sensational vocals. Warming up an audience is no easy task for any opening act, but Just Mustard provided a fresh synthetic sound that reverberated through the bones of every audience member, undoubtedly warming us up for the main event.

It wasn’t long before the audience was finally given what they had been earnestly waiting for. As the lights on the 3Olympia stage dimmed ‘Blue Weekend’, an amusing yodelling song, began to rise throughout the room as Wolf Alice made their way onto the stage. race an Irish stage once more, and from the growing cheers of the audience it was clear the feeling was mutual.

As their entrance music faded out, the unmistakable opening riff of ‘Smile’, the hit song from their 2021 album Blue Weekend , began to fill the room. From the start it was clear that the Wolf Alice I had witnessed in 2016, were now a more fierce band full of undeniable passion and energy.

Wolf Alice’s setlist was as delicious as delicious things come (I do not apologise for the shocking song pun). Taking some of their greatest hits from all three of their albums, the band catered for those in the audience who had been fans since their first album MyLoveisCool in 2015, all the way up to their most recent album Blue Weekend.

The band tore into each song with a ferocity I had not seen in a long time. Their stage presence was outstanding as each member seemed to be engulfed by the music and melted into one with their instruments. Most notably was bassist Theo Ellis, whose energy was toxic in the best way. A natural performer, Ellis’ energy spread out into the audience as he leapt around the stage, swinging his bass and avidly interacting with audience members.

3Olympia all the way down to the standing pit, the audience danced and cheered as the final melody of ‘Don’t Delete the Kisses’ rang out. With one final wave the band exited the stage still in the highest of spirits.

After a pseudo ending and a joyous Olé, Olé, Olé from an ecstatic audience, Wolf Alice returned to the stage once more, finally performing their two hits ‘Last Man on the Earth’ and ‘Don’t Delete the Kisses’ (VisionsofaLife,2017). From the highest seats of the

As the lights of the 3Olympia rose and audience members filtered out onto the streets of Dublin, still on a rock and roll high, it was clear to me how much the Wolf Alice I had just witnessed had changed from the band I saw in 2016. They graced the stage with an aura and energy that is unlike anything I have seen before. Their presence on stage and the passion for their music held the attention of each audience member, and had them sitting in the palms of these insanely talented musicians.

WORDS Erica Smith PHOTOGRAPHY Erica Smith

WORDS Alessandro Loro

The Amazons are back with a new album, How Will I Know if Heaven Will Find Me? out on September 9th, following The Amazons (2017) and Future Dust (2019), which topped the UK charts in eighth and ninth position respectively. It marks the exploration of a new, more uplifting and hopeful sound for the band. It is composed of eleven singable, anthemic songs. I’ve had the privilege to interview Matt Thomson, the band’s frontman, who shared some interesting insights on the band’s latest work.

The album was written between the end of 2020 and 2021, in the middle of the pandemic. As Thomson stated, “It was really at the end of 2020 that we had some breakthroughs. You could see just elements, the backbone of the record, starting to emerge”. However, the turning point happened in 2021. “Then, in 2021 we had a lot of tunes which had a lyrical theme, and we knew this was the blueprint of the sound. We decided to use these songs as the starting point of the record”.

The album marks an important turn for the band in terms of their sound. It has optimistic, confident vibes compared with their previous works, especially Future Dust. This necessity to look forward especially transpires in songs like ‘How Will I Know’, ‘Bloodrush’, ‘There’s a Light’, ‘Northern Star’ and ‘In the Morning’, manifesting itself in crunchy guitar riffs and extremely singable choruses. Nevertheless, this sensation emerges from literally every song of the album, even in those which deal with serious themes or more personal situations.

According to Thomson, the band realized they needed to adopt a different sound and approach during their second album tour. The choice came out of the necessity to make the audience feel more connected with the band on stage. “We felt we were going to make some music that was going to promote a more communal feeling. We had loads of songs from the previous two albums that were a joy to play as a band, but this separated us from the audience”. Thomson tells how they would “stretch these songs out” and, for example, play long guitar solos. “Ultimately, I don’t know what we were expecting, but we realized that the audience was just standing and watching. The thing you get the biggest thrill out [when on stage] is the connection with the audience.”

The sound and tone of the album were also a direct consequence of its inspiration. The work deals with Thomson’s long-distance relationship during the pandemic. “In a long-distance relationship when you see each other it can be quite episodic. The album is like one of these episodes, like the story of a two-three-week trip, and the songs all correspond

with the different stages of when I see this person. When I think of ‘Say It Again’, I think of ‘early on’ in this episode. It’s a morning song, the calmness in the morning with the promise of the rest of the day.” He continues “Instead, ‘I’m Not Ready’ is very much like ‘I’m going to go on a plane tomorrow and I don’t know when I’m going to see this person again’”.

An interesting aspect of the album is that the songs don’t have direct references to Thomson’s girlfriend and specific places or situations. This peculiarity “came out through just trying it out. We were trying to put in detail, markers, and specific locations. We’d stick with a location, but then we’d realize that it made the song smaller and that it didn’t match how I wanted to feel about it. I wanted to be more general because I think emotions are a broader stroke."

The album features a punchy, loud rock sound, almost as if it was recorded live in a large venue. According to Thomson, the band did not obtain this sound intentionally. “We could try to do anything, and it would sound like it was recorded live. To me, it just adds that quality, with John playing the drums, Chris playing guitar and Elliot playing bass. We almost don’t have a choice on our own sound”. Even if they explored different possibilities and ways of playing with their producer Jim Abbiss (Arctic Monkeys, Arcade Fire, Adele), especially in ‘There’s A Light’, “the songs just sound like The Amazons, you can’t get away from it. All our micro-decisions accumulate to our sound.”.

Thomson’s favourite songs on the record are ‘Northern Star’ – “that’s probably the most vulnerable and the most explicit about how I feel to this person” and ‘Say it Again’.

The Amazons will commence a tour in September, playing in Whelan’s, Dublin, on October 5th.

Music Theory's

Music theory has a reputation problem. My own training is a testament to this; stuff y theory classes without an instrument in sight, learning about arpeggios, scales, circles of fifths, and intervals as abstract concepts. It goes without saying that I left all this jargon behind when I went to tepidly perform a poorly prepared piece. The practice of music was between me and the notes on the page. Simply put, I didn’t understand where music theory could fit into it.

Music as a subject in school also did little to justify the relevance of these apparently benign concepts. Just as there is always a student foaming at the mouth to doubt whether Shakespeare deliberately included such and such a poetic technique, there will always be someone to doubt whether Mozart knew he was performing a parallel modulation, or whether The Beatles consciously included a plagal cadence in She’s Leaving Home. The overall impression was clear: Music theory is just an esoteric dogma with very little relevance to the actual composition or performance of music.

This impression was dispelled when I took up the guitar, whereupon I discovered a whole realm of compositional applications for those self-same scales, arpeggios, and intervals. One observation, which changed both the way I appreciate and play music, was that knowledge of chord tones - the notes within a chord - allows one to write very strong melodies. This is one of the primary reasons

why musicians practice arpeggios, which are the notes of a chord played in ascending or descending order. Somehow, this simple fact never reached me in all my classical training. Back then, the purpose of what I was learning remained completely obscure; music theory took on a grotesquely academic and frivolous image.

It is perhaps intuitive that targeting the notes that comprise the underlying chords leads to a more directional and intentional melody. Many guitarists will be aware of the infamous pentatonic scales, which are often played with reckless disregard for the chords underneath, resulting in meandering melodies and questionable note choices. Even without understanding why, it is easy to distinguish pentatonic noodling from deliberately placed, well-chosen notes. The former often sounds aimless and insipid, while the latter is more likely to be melodic and expressive.

In Pink Floyd’s ‘Comfortably Numb’, David Gilmour plays two solos. The first is probably the most iconic of the two, clearly demonstrating his awareness of arpeggios, which he uses to construct a solo that is not only melodic, but anthemic. The first note is F#, which appears

Reputation Problem

in the underlying chord of D major, and is briefly ornamented by an adjacent non-chord tone to introduce a moment of transient tension. This choice of notes begins the solo in a manner that is lofty and magnificent, but also screaming with emotion. As the chord shifts from D major to A major, Gilmour descends through the notes of an A major arpeggio, with a brief nonchord note for tension, as before. The phrase is concluded in noble fashion by emphasising the note D as we land once again on the D major chord. Gilmour continues, but the moral of the story is his expert use of chord tones to create a melody that is incredibly deliberate and stately. This first solo provides a stylistic contrast to the second solo. The latter is fantastic in its own way but relies more heavily on chord-agnostic shredding of the pentatonic scale, which confers it a sound that is bluesy but perhaps less melodic or directional.

A similar study can be made of the Dire Straits masterpiece ‘Sultans of Swing’. Mark Knopfler’s tactful guitar-work displays a clearly discernible and effective vocabulary of practical theoretical concepts. Knopfler makes extremely dextrous use of deliberate arpeggio-based licks to construct the song’s solos. The conclusion is a flurry of fleet-footed notes that can quite literally

be boiled down to straight-forward arpeggios over three repeating chords. The sonic effect of Knopfler’s emphasis on chord tones is an extraordinarily sophisticated and directional cadenza that is quite remarkable in rock music.

Where does this leave us? My experience with music theory during my musical education was one of exasperation. And yet, evidently, many of the concepts included under the umbrella of music theory seem to have their place, providing a valuable guide for composition. Theory does not have to be a wholly academic endeavour. I’d bet that David Gilmour and Mark Knopfler probably did not read about chord tones and arpeggios in a book, but rather incorporated them by osmosis, and experimented with them in the making of real music. It seems that, in many cases, this kind of experientially derived, rough-and-ready theoretical understanding is leagues more effective than an overly intellectual knowledge that is never translated into actual music. When music theory and music practice were treated as separate, I had no interest. However, when these parallel studies were combined in the aforementioned songs, I became a much more receptive student.

Perhaps a more practical approach could salvage music theory’s reputation problem.

WORDS Frank Crossen

SEX & RELATIONSHIPS

WORDS Rachel Kelly PHOTOGRAPHY Rachel Kelly

In the weeks leading up to my interrail journey, I was apprehensive. My friend and I decided to take a leap of faith and go by ourselves to minimise drama, much to the shock of everyone around us. Everyone was concerned for our well-being: friends were worried I’d get trafficked, parents stressed over the possibility of my passport being stolen, and we panicked about how likely it would be that our roommates would be middle aged men thanks to various TikToks. And I suppose everyone’s fears were made somewhat valid by Katie’s and I’s tendency to get ourselves into stupid situations. All of my friends knew Katie, regardless of having met her or not, due to the fact that every interesting story I have, she’s a part of.

So as we opened the door to our first hostel dorm in Amsterdam, we couldn’t believe it when we saw Harry.* After making the conscious decision to ban myself from men with piercings, mullets, rings, a love for the Fontaines D.C., and clothes that made them look like they’ve come straight from Pinterest, I sighed to myself as Harry fit nearly every one of these categories, and also had an irresistible English accent. It all was too much to handle. The breaking point for me was the fact that when I told him I study English literature, he didn’t laugh or ask me if I wanted to be a teacher, but rather looked at me in awe and told me how he always wanted to study that too. It was at that exact moment I decided to close

myself off from this fashion design graduate. He was utterly unattainable and was sure to make my trip end in tears. Yet the more I got talking to Harry, the more apparent it was that my plan to ignore him was going to fail. He wooed us with stories of his celebrity friends and London life but most important were the anecdotes about himself. There seemed to be some mutual understanding between ourselves that we could talk about our life experiences, and I found myself telling this man about things I’ve never told people before. Yet we parted ways after Berlin, expecting to never see each other again. Until one magical day we realised we were in Prague at the same time, and it was in that beautiful city our friendship progressed into something more.

I could have kicked myself as I realised the only thing preventing this from happening sooner was my own stupidity. By placing Harry on this pedestal and viewing him as unattainable, I decided that the role I played in his life would be platonic before he even had a say in the matter. I reflected on how I often pushed roles not only on myself in relationships, but also on other people. After my first heartbreak, I convinced myself that it had to have happened for a reason: I was about to meet someone ten times better. This resulted in me thinking that everyone I met in the following months was the love of my life, and getting frustrated when things unsurprisingly didn’t work out. I think it’s human nature to analyse

Relationships of a Different Kind:

relationships and convince ourselves of some deeper meaning, and yet, while writing this article, the whole concept felt narcissistic. While it’s important to reflect on past experiences, I also think it can be harmful to believe that everyone comes into your life to teach you a lesson because it dehumanises those involved. Rather than viewing ex friends or partners as

I will most likely never see Harry again , despite our drunken promises that he will visit me on my Erasmus. In fact, Katie and I are both waiting for the day he unfollows us as he grows his Instagram followers into the 10,000s. While our society tends to define relationships by time, I think the joy of interrailing is the lack of it. I met Harry, and all of the other friends we made on this trip at their best and vice versa. While some of the memories of my school friendships have been tarnished by forcing each other to stay mates rather than admit we were no longer compatible, the beauty of interrailing is you never get to that stage. Some relationships just aren’t meant to stand the test of time, and interrailing has made me realise that that doesn’t make them any less valuable.

Yet some people stay in our lives no matter the circumstances, and it’s safe to say that person for me is Katie. Having met her when I was twelve, the earliest memory I have of our friendship is hysterical laughing at our teacher falling over a bin during class. And as we laughed deeply hungover in Budapest over a boy tripping over a step at the Fisherman’s Wharf, I relished in the fact that some things never do change.

*I may be unhinged enough to publish intimate details about my life in a student publication, but I’m not unhinged to the point where I include real names. Future men fear not!! xx

Passing through & staying

The Elusivity and Misconceptions about Vaginal Masturbation

Masturbation is always associated with a hush-hush nature, right? It’s seen as wrong, or secretive and elusive, something inherently private. All these things ring true, but vaginal masturbation, in particular, is a painfully restricted subject. I found out that other people masturbated when I was maybe sixteen, and talked about it with a girlfriend when I was seventeen. The conversation was accompanied by blushed cheeks and embarrassed giggles, neither of us daring to disclose any intimate information apart from the fact that we did it.

And then I moved to a mixed school, and was inundated with jokes about wanking and lads getting off in the bathrooms. This cloud of secrecy was nonexistent in the eyes of teenage boys, who talked about masturbation like it was the newest Netflix TV show. This should have felt liberating. This nuance of sexual freedom should feel like an open door, but instead, the door was slammed, bolted shut and I was exiled from all conversations because I felt too ashamed to talk

Where does this shame come from?

Raising this conversation of shame and masturbation was easier than expected, and I talked to many of my friends, wondering if they felt this. They elaborated that yes, they felt it and upon conclusion, that this shame can come from anything; limited education, misleading information, religious and cultural stigma, and porn. Many people with vaginas feel that if they don’t have a model figure, a hairless vulva and a set of labia parted perfectly that their masturbation isn’t valid, or worthy of attention.

How can we stop this from being so secret?

Some people prefer privacy, and that is okay. Boundaries are really important when you talk about sex and relationships. However, if you want to stop the secrecy, you can educate yourself using sex-positive magazine articles and blogs. Advocating for more sex-positive media is also really important. And lastly, advocating for a more modern and less guilt provoking sex education to be implemented within schools, especially on a secondary level, can help us destigmatise masturbation and educate young people. All of which is always important!

To do my part of being a good citizen and to help demystify this topic, here are some myths debunked:

Q: Do all people squirt when they orgasm? (Music student, 19)

A: It’s reported that 10-50% of people with vaginas can, but there’s no harm in trying!

Q: Do I have to use toys? (English student, 18)

A: Absolutely not, but if you’re interested, a former sex and relationships writer did an article on the best toys to use!

Q: Is it unhealthy? (Philosophy student, 22)

A: Nope! It’s been scientifically proven to help you sleep better, relieve menstrual cramps, reduce stress and strengthen the pelvic floor, which is really really important.

Q: Will masturbation kill you? (BESS student, 21)

A: Unless you do it for six weeks straight without food or water, probably not.

Summer of

Your relationship with yourself

Back in foggy January, I decided I was going to be an au pair this summer. And, after too many hours labouring over a bilingual, hyperbolic, and regrettably sycophantic account of my will to care for children, followed by months of Whatsapping back and forth with a couple of potential families, I did it. In fact, I am writing this from the beagle-haircovered sofa of a minimally-decorated, pinewood sitting room in number 7, the middle of nowhere, Bavaria.

I spend a lot of time dreaming up plans and never following through. I thought that my living in Germany for a summer was about as likely to exist outside of my thoughts as my intentions to make a portfolio and go to art school. But somehow this one stuck, and after agreeing to the paltry amount of €280 a month and spending hundreds on flights (luggage), I flew to Munich airport and began my “Summer of a Lifetime”, like hundreds, if not thousands of other Irish students do every year at a variety of exchanges, unpaid summer jobs and camps.

Au pairing has been life-changing. I’ve overcome a lifelong fear that I’m inadequate for motherhood. I’ve become a wake up at 6 and feed the chickens kind of person and I’ve confirmed that nothing in this world makes me smile like seeing my mum’s face—even if it’s only hazily transmitted through video chat.

But alongside what I’ve gained is the gaping and unquantifiable loss of the me that I know and the summer she could have had. It turns out that living

with a family, eating breakfast with them, attending their school graduations, it doesn’t make you a family member. You are there to learn a language, experience a culture, run away from home, and they have taken you in to lighten their load and give their kids a bit of culture—without having to pay someone a proper wage or fork out cash for holidays abroad.

I know it could be different if I was more gregarious, was more proficient with the Bavarian dialect, if I insisted on getting my day off every week or maybe even just if circumstances allowed me to stay longer than two short months. But it isn’t different, and from the point of view of my last day here, what I have learned is shadowed by a growing unfamiliarity with myself and who I am when I am not in my familiar Barry’s tea-coloured waters.

My days have had no free time for me to put on my usual eyeliner and brow gel, and my room has no mirror to remind me why I feel the need to. And whenever my hair is freshly washed it is quickly ruined by an eight-year-old asking if I want to go for a swim.

All of my possessions seem to look more worn— some beyond repair thanks to the family dog— and with every sock browned by running after the kids into the garden and every pair of sliders shrivelled to nothing by the sun, it just got harder and harder that I had no one around to talk to properly— who I could vent to, or cry to, or explain things I haven’t quite worked out to.

Silence

when you’re away from your relationships

In Flann O’Brien’s At Swim Two Birds, the protagonist lists the contents of his bedroom— a list of things which he “deemed essential for existence.” As the life I created back home began to bare no correlation to the one I find myself in now, I realised that there is nothing on this earth that can be taken from me other than food and water (although that’s different here too) and a roof over my head (also different) that will stop me from living. And while showing me that nothing is essential, it also showed me that taking me or any young hopeful embarking on the summer of a lifetime, from the life we are used to, the people we love, the free time where we rest, and the rituals we have accumulated, that does stop us from being ourselves.

Of course, this may not be a bad thing. Lose yourself to find yourself, or something along those lines. But the exploitative nature of many soul-searching, CV-filling summer adventures that come with the abandoning of all things you, is a lot for someone to take on, and then to be expected to come back in September with anecdotes, a tan, and a perfected skill, but otherwise pretty much the same as before, well that’s impossible.

As I’ve tried to say before, I’m very grateful for my summer abroad this year. I think I’ve gotten my freckle-y glow and my language skills are honed. I’m proud of myself in a million ways. And don’t get me wrong I am very fond of the family I spent it with. It’s just that raving and sharing anecdotes feels unnatural after it all.

Whether it was my fault or not, it makes you quiet down: whole days where practically no speech is directed at you outside of requests to help, and bored children shrieking your name. You may be running around but your mind is still.

Finding yourself asking the same questions all the time, to be met with the same answers. Because when you don’t know a child but are responsible for them, what else is there to say other than ‘are you hungry?’. What can you do when your proficiency in a language doesn’t allow you to express yourself and have proper conversations, but the lack of proper flowing conversation is what’s holding back your language learning the most.

Learning to live in a way where you voice almost nothing that you think of. Where conversations never seem to leave your head. Where words build up like a tension headache behind your eyes and you have nowhere to squeeze them out. And they press and press until they seem to dissipate. And after a couple of weeks your thoughts have now rerouted and as they appear, learned to hover somewhere vague and unapproachable until they disappear just like your will to express yourself.

But it’s only temporary, I think, so yes, take that internship, go work in that camp, be that au pair, because I’m hopeful that a summer of silence leads to a winter of words.

WORDS Alison Cummins

THEATRE Translations

by Brian Friel

“Why do you want to learn English?”, I ask each new batch of students I receive. Their answers, which usually go along the lines of “so I can get a better job” or “so that I can travel the world”, are the same reasons that Máire (played by Zara Devlin) wants to learn English. Only Máire isn’t a fourteen year old Spanish kid on her summer holidays who’s being taught by a nineteen year old college student. She is (like so many before her) an overworked, witty and romantic young woman who hopes to leave Baile Beag for America - where, god help her, “there’s no hay to be saved”.

Translations tells the story of an Irish speaking community in Donegal in 1833. It is primarily set within a hedge school, fizzling with passion for ancient Greek, Latin, mathematics and poetry - but, of course, not for the English language. Characters that some might call peasants are essentially portrayed as downtrodden geniuses, savant farmers and eejit poets. However, the

hedge school is forever changed when the English army sends over a convoy to rename the places of Ireland, in order to make the country easier for them to occupy. They arrive, ready to regulate language and destroy history... but I’ll say no more.

The play is about many things, namely the beauty of the Irish language. In Baile Beag, everybody speaks Gaeilge, and I find myself jealous of these fictitious, poverty-stricken townspeople. For they have an opportunity that I was never afforded: the Irish language feels at home in their mouths. I didn’t grow up speaking Irish and it was spoon fed to me in forty minute increments during the five days a week I was in school, so it’s a wonder I have any love left for it. But I do. And watching the beginning of the end for this beautiful language in Translations is like watching your favourite character in a movie die, which is to say, heartbreaking, unfair, confusing, visceral, and always, always impossible to look away from.

Directed by Catriona McLoughlin

The Abbey Theatre

The play is suitably Irish in that it is filled with poitín, music and sarcasm. There is a moment in which Lancy (played by Howard Teale) speaks to the Irish people with painful ignorance, yet despite this uncomfortably accurate display of anti Irish racism, the audience find themselves laughing not with him but at him. There were small pockets of giggles from the audience throughout the performance. Old Jimmy Jack (played by Ronan Leahy) telling us that he’s going to marry Athena, if only Zeus gives his blessing, or George saying “sorry” every five minutes. This is important. To make us laugh, to make us care about a love story where colonialism and imperialism dominate the main love interest. To highlight the frivolous is to show us that language is relevant not only to the ways in which we communicate with one another, but also affects how we think for ourselves. George is the most romantic character in the play, yet ironically displays the most surface level love for the language as he actively works to erase its legitimacy. In contrast, the native speakers in

the play do not need to express their love for the language: it is, as it were, unspoken.

The lighting is incredible. It takes the work of a genius (the geniuses in this case being Paul Keoghan and Caitríona McLaughlin) to make every scene in the play look like a painting. Rich, warm tones connote comfort and home. Dirty feet, bowls of tea, dusty books and milk from a metal can. Beautiful little touches. The characters belong on the stage and they haunt your imagination for days afterwards.

If nothing else, Translations has made me more determined than ever to use the original Gaeilge names for places in Ireland. I ask my students why they want to learn English so that I can convince myself I’m lucky to be a native English speaker. But who am I kidding? In the words of the play’s hedge master Hugh, “English succeeds in making it sound... plebeian”.

Dearest reader, I write to you at an ungodly hour on the final night of the Edinburgh Fringe Festival - dehydrated, sleep deprived and with 40 shows under my belt. I have spent the past month working front of house for a company at the festival; and after seeing so many shows, going out every night, and meeting so many amazing people (locals and those who frequent Fringe circles alike), I find myself disheartened to leave it and return to reality. A friend of mine referred to the month of August in Edinburgh as “Disneyland”. I’d have to agree with them... although, there are more costumes and queer people here than the actual Disneyland.

While working at a venue such as Gilded Balloon, the staff are able to use their pass to see any of that venue’s shows for free, with Gilded Balloon hosting hundreds and the Fringe, itself, having thousands. A stand out show at Gilded Balloon which I was lucky enough to catch was Mythos: Ragnarok - the first ever full length theatre/wrestling hybrid, where absolute units performed Norse Mythology with choreographed wrestling. On a thrust stage, giving the feeling of an arena, these impressively large performers sold out every night... which made it a bit of a challenge for those in front of the house, such as myself, to get a seat.

A lovely benefit of front of house work is getting to know the artists in your building very well, and watching those artists sell out and receive rave reviews was a great joy for us, as we came to know them on a personal basis. The gentle giants of Ragnarok were no exception, and their success

was well deserved. I’ve never known happiness like watching them flip my venue manager over their broad shoulders with a loud thud on their final night.

There were other extremely strong shows at Gilded which stuck with me til the end of the month such as, the hilarious and lovely boys of LA based comedy group Business Casual, whose humour was so absurd and off the wall it can only be described as genius. There was also Redeem Her: How I Escaped My Perfect Mormon Life, where Tatum Melissa Langton recounted the story of her marriage within the Mormon community and their attitudes toward adultery (which they see as being on par with murder). And, lastly, Keith Ramsey’s Eve: All About Her, which can only be described as an artist’s struggle with persona and identity through stream of consciousness: a consciousness which took the form of a 1950’s Hollywood icon who can sing Amy Winehouse’s ‘Back To Black’ like nobody’s business.

Aside from my own venue, the Fringe offered an endless well of entertainment. Coming from Francesca Moody Productions (which I hear were also responsible for a little Fringe show, called Fleabag), Feeling Afraid As If Something Terrible Is Going To Happen was the hilarious and poignant tale of a stand-up comedian that falls for a man who could potentially die if he laughs. I have never been more immediately sold by a premise. The performance was framed as a genuine standup set, which the audience was well accustomed to from being at the Fringe; and used this to play with the form of stand-up, dissect it, and fittingly end it all

with a punchline.

Pecho Mama’s Oedipus Electronica brought a level of National Theatre polish to the Fringe with its sophisticated set, lights, and live music, providing the audience with a cinematic experience of theatre unlike anything I’d ever seen. My friend and I were so gagged we couldn’t speak for about ten minutes after. She even left her phone in the auditorium.

Many circus shows took place over the month, and one extremely close to my heart was Railed: a queer cowboy themed, acrobatic, stripping extravaganza. Cowboys initially attempted to “out man” one another, “accidentally” getting each other wet by spilling beer, which gradually escalated to simulated sex while wearing horse masks and simultaneously doing handstands atop dozens of stacked chairs.

Two Irish productions which I had missed in Dublin but was lucky enough to see here were Night Dances and Mustard. Night Dances was an impressive display of physicality, sound and costume merged to create a beautiful piece of theatre. Fishamble’s Mustard told the story of a woman’s unusual desire when times get tough: to lavish herself in mustard. Been there!

Anyways, the Edinburgh Fringe Festival is my favourite thing in the world, and I would recommend a visit to both theatre fanatics and normies alike as you are guaranteed to find something for you. For me, that was Hot Clown Sex To clarify, yes, it was a show I saw...

31 Nights of Disneyland Tales

from the Fringe

Saturday, 13th August, 12:55 PM. Edinburgh, Scotland. A burrito place on South Bridge.

I stand at the counter waiting for my coffee, tapping my foot on the floor and looking around. The venue is alive with energy as audience members descend into the basement. The show is about to start. A staff member hands me my coffee, wishing me good luck as I make my way down the stairs. I join my fellow performers in laying out extra chairs, setting up the speaker, and collecting lines written by audience members on slips of paper. Today is our biggest show yet, and the atmosphere is electric. We, as is custom by this late stage of the week, are physically and spiritually exhausted. As the last attendants take their seats, we head into our green room (which doubles as the restaurant’s bathroom) to muster our resolve.

At 1 PM we emerge from the bathroom, dancing to the chorus of Elton John’s ‘Are You Ready For Love?’. It’s showtime.

I’m not sure whether I expected my first Fringe show to be this chaotic, but with “Improv She Wrote” (ISW), Trinity’s best and only improv group, chaos is part and parcel. After having performed as part of the group for a year, I was excited to take part in this year’s Edinburgh festival, which served as ISW’s Fringe comeback after several years of pandemic induced hiatus.

Part of the magic of Edinburgh Fringe is how the festival transforms the entire

city into an open ended playground of theatrical space. Performances are taking place constantly in theatres, clubs, bars, parks, and on virtually every street corner. For ISW, our playground was the basement of Burrito N’ Shake (BNS), which also served as the host for various other acts ranging from musical comedy to magic shows. Given that our show started around the same time as their afternoon meal service, the BNS team were extremely hospitable –although the crowded space meant they sometimes had to make their way across the stage mid performance to retrieve something from storage. Towards the end of the week, however, we learned how to make these rare interruptions a part of the show, with the unwitting staff becoming momentary side characters in our bizarre little scenes. I can only hope they found this novelty as amusing as we and (sometimes) the audience did.

In many respects, we were extremely lucky to find ourselves in this kind of situation. Many other acts at Fringe regularly find themselves performing in venues where there’s plenty of room for the staff to move around and do pretty much anything – because there’s no audience there to get in the way. Promoting your show to make it stand out amongst the countless other contenders can seem like a borderline Sisyphean task at times, yet flyering is one of the most essential and occasionally draining parts of the Ed Fringe experience.

As someone sensitive to rejection, however, I can say that standing on a street corner with a bundle of flyers, occasionally crying out “Free Improv!” as people deliberately avoided eye contact with me, was far from a highlight. I was lucky to have my fellow improvisers there to lighten the load, both practically and emotionally speaking. We even came up with some fun flyering strategies as a way of relieving the monotony. My personal favourite involved one of my fellow improvisers playing dumb and loudly gushing as I gave him more information about the show: “For free you say? And I can bring my burrito and my shake down with me too? Maybe I will check it out...” It even worked a couple of times.

What I can say was a highlight of my Fringe experience was the bond that I built with my fellow performers, both by performing alongside them every day and by hitting the town with them every night. This sense of community extended to the other artists participating in the festival as well. Trading flyers with another performer I encountered on the street. Chatting with the actors from a play I just saw afterwards in the atrium. Seeing someone I recognise from their own show in the crowd during one of ours, ready with a smile and a wave.

These are the memories that I will cherish from Edinburgh Fringe, and I hope to find the same community of fun and chaos waiting for me when I return next year.

my

Improv She Wrote” goes to Edinburgh Fringe

experience performing at the world’s most iconic theatre festival for one week

TELEVISION Does Never Have I Ever Merit Praise for its Depiction of Teenage Girls?

It’s no secret that in television, rather than adding depth to young female characters, screenwriters typically use a platitudinous checklist of overworked tropes, bounded by traditional patriarchal gender roles. A teenage girl becomes reduced to the epitome of drama and hyper-emotionality, failing to be relatable to real teen girls.

With this in mind, I decided to watch the newest season of NeverHaveIEver . Superficially, this show had always seemed stereotypical to me. While the activities Devi engaged in were not impossible to picture an average teen girl participating in, Devi appeared to me as nothing more than yet another overly simplified, dramatic depiction of a teenage girl: a convenient and thoughtless stereotype to slap across the small-screen, with no regard as to whether or not she was relatable to the average teen. In the show’s first season, Devi fixated on becoming popular and winning over the affections of a popular boy, Paxton. Devi’s obsession with these two things drove her to focus only upon herself. She ditched her best friend, Eleanor, after Eleanor had been abandoned by her mother in order to meet Paxton. She was barely there for her other best friend, Fabiola, who had just come out of the closet, and even perpetuated a false rumour that she had slept with Paxton in order to increase her social ranking. In the second season, Devi did not appear to have grown much, breaking into her mother’s boyfriend’s house, starting a rumour that new student, Anessa, had anorexia, and dating both Paxton and academic rival, Ben, simultaneously. When I started season three, I was pleasantly surprised to see a new Devi, who had transformed into a well-rounded and confident individual that represents a more uplifting and realistic portrayal of the average teenage girl. The show’s target audience, teen girls, are treated with respect and consideration. Insecurity is portrayed as a natural part of growing up rather than a weakness of character.

The newest season begins with Devi once again spiralling out of control due to her insecurities

and destructive need to be loved. After becoming Paxton’s girlfriend again, Devi’s popularity skyrockets. However, it comes at a cost. The weight of constantly feeling inferior to her boyfriend drives Devi mad but ultimately leads her to the realisation that Paxton may not be the idol she has made him out to be. Devi tracks down Hailey, a girl who has been severely wronged by Paxton. Hailey reveals to Devi that Paxton was once her close friend, but once their friendship culminated in a sexual encounter, Paxton completely blew her off. Once aware of this information, Devi takes an immediate step towards growth and maturity. She demands that Paxton apologise to Hailey. When he refuses, Devi adheres to her principles and tells Paxton that she wants a boyfriend who treats girls with respect, therefore, he can no longer be her boyfriend. For the first time, viewers see Devi overcome her insecurities around her boyfriend and pursue justice, rather than drama. When pondering whether or not to confront Paxton about his callous actions toward Hailey, she is faced with the dilemma of ignoring what Hailey has told her, or confronting Paxton on behalf of Hailey and all other women Paxton may have wronged. Devi chooses a feminist approach, reprimanding Paxton for his poor behaviour. This is a big step forward for Devi, who often placed her happiness over the happiness of others. It also sends a wonderful message of solidarity to young women.

Devi’s growth does not end there. Her maturity in dealing with her breakup with Paxton marks a healthy approach to grief and a great model for teens to follow in their relationships. It is obvious to the audience that Devi’s fixation on Paxton and being popular have always been a way of deflecting and coping with the rage and sadness that lingers within her due to her dad’s sudden death. Having Paxton as a boyfriend and being popular served as an unattainable goal, which allowed Devi to escape what she believed to be the tragedy of her life. Therefore, when her “dream” came true and then spiralled into ruin, I expected her to give way to rage or manipulation as she had in past seasons. However, rather than

dwelling on unhealthy ideas that losing Paxton and subsequently popularity owever, rather than dwelling on unhealthy ideas that losing Paxton and subsequently popularity would somehow “destroy her,” Devi goes through normal phases of grief. By the time she begins dating again, she is confident in herself, and finally feels worthy of her new boyfriend Des’s affections.

When Des fails to treat Devi with the respect she deserves, by avoiding her and telling her that they can no longer date, because dating her isn’t worth pissing off his mother, Devi stands up for herself. She knows that she deserves better. Her former relationship has taught her to value herself, assert herself unapologetically, and to never tolerate demeaning behaviour. In season two, Devi agreed to date Paxton in secret because he was ashamed of her. She did not want to be his secret girlfriend, but she allowed it because she did not understand that she deserved better. By season three, Devi has matured and grown into a more confident character, a heroic advocate on behalf of girls to push for the respect they deserve from others.

Finally, when the season comes to a close, viewers can see Devi’s priorities have shifted. Despite still caring about her education and aiming to attend Princeton after graduation, Devi rejects an offer to attend a prestigious private high school for her senior year. She knows the school would help her gain an edge when applying to college and almost guarantee her dream of being popular. However, she chooses to spend her final high school year with her mother, family, and friends. Devi, herself, becomes conscious of the fact that she has fundamentally changed as an individual. She no longer craves shallow outside validation, but instead searches for meaningful connections between herself and others. She has become a better listener, a more supportive friend, and no longer feels jealousy towards the accomplishments of the people close to her. And with the show’s finale, where she rekindles her romance with Ben, an unpopular long time love interest who has always treated her with kindness and respect, Devi has come to understand that a compatible relationship is far superior to a fantasy one.

Devi of season three, is a refreshing antithesis of television’s stereotypical teen girl. Her growth within the season led me to re-examine the show from its start, and identify the positives I had not previously noticed. NeverHaveIEver,while initially seeming to be a cliche depiction of high school, actually has merit. From the beginning Devi has never been portrayed as a typical model. She dresses like a normal high school girl and unlike most actors who play high schoolers, Maitreyi

Ramakrishnan, who plays Devi began shooting the show at 17. She was only two years older than the character she was playing, and is therefore relatively similar in appearance and stature to girls of that age. Her character didn’t portray unrealistic body or beauty standards for young viewers. To look further than the representation of teenage girls , the show has always made a conscious effort to address real issues that people face and come to terms with during adolescence. The show highlights different ways of coming out, healthy and unhealthy approaches to coping with grief, abusive relationships; sexism and racism, coming to terms with whether or not you are ready for sex, awkwardness and imperfection, questioning your cultural identity, academic pressure, and the idea that someone can be a wonderful person but simply not a healthy or compatible match for you.

At first glance, NeverHaveIEverappears like the shallow end of the pool, but once a viewer dives in and takes the time to notice its positive attributes, they will find that there is more depth to the show and its teenage depictions, than meets the eye.

WORDS Eva Criscuolo ART Eva Criscuolo

Admittedly, when I first heard that there would be a second season of Russian Doll, I was disappointed. Before watching, I thought that everything had been resolved within the first season and was not expecting the second season to be anywhere near as good as the first. No piece of dialogue has ever hit me harder than “You’re the most selfish person I’ve ever met. Thank you for changing my life. Lives are hard to change.” However, I was pleasantly surprised.

In the first season of the show, we learn that Nadia is grieving her deceased mother. In flashbacks, her mother is shown to be quite abusive towards Nadia, causing her an immense amount of trauma. Although the first season ends with Alan and Nadia ‘saving’ each other, this is not the end of Nadia’s healing. Her relationship with her mother is explored again in the second season in a unique way. The season begins with Nadia’s surrogate mother, Ruth, in ill-health. Nadia appears to be in denial about the severity of this. If the audience has learned anything from season one’s resurrection time loop, it is that Nadia doesn’t see death as permanent. Her mother’s death did not constitute an end to anything, only opened up a fresh wound to the past.

Nadia is given the opportunity to visit the world through both her mother and grandmother’s eyes. Nadia’s mother, Nora, is a troubled schizophrenic with impulsive tendencies, which complicates Nadia’s attempts to change her actions in 1982 by returning the family inheritance that she stole. There is a theory that Nadia caused Nora’s breakdown by travelling to the past and hijacking her body, but I disagree with this. The message of the second season, in my view, is that family history cannot be changed. Attempting to create a better life for Nora was also Nadia’s attempt to prevent the trauma she went through as a child. Nadia’s hallucinations in her mother’s body were not supposed to show how she was tampering with space and time, but to show Nadia experiencing the way her mother viewed the world.

On my first watch of the second season, I misunderstood the ending completely: what was the point, I thought? Nadia accomplished nothing by the end of the season, and allowed the woman she loved the most to die alone. On re-watching, I realised how important the phrase ‘Coney Island’ (Russian Doll’s term for an “if only”) had been to the season. If only

Nadia had recovered her inheritance and repaired Nora’s relationship with her mother, she may have had an easier childhood. If only Nadia had fought harder for her mother to retain custody of her, Nora may not have committed suicide. If only Nadia had never travelled in time, Ruth may have not died alone. All of these are, of course, meaningless speculations. The second season serves not only as a way for Nadia to understand her mother and grandmother, but also as a way to realise that there is nothing she could have done to change what happened to her family.

The season reaches its climax when Nadia ends up giving birth to herself while in Nora’s body. She takes herself, as an infant, back to the 21st century, which breaks time itself. Realising that there is nothing she can do to save her mother, she does the only thing that she can to save her own childhood - start afresh with her infant self in the 21st century. By now, Nadia has also accepted that Ruth, the only “witness” to everything that she has gone through, is going to die.

The most devastating and tear-jerking moment in Russian Doll occurs on the train as Nadia contemplates handing her infant self back over to Nora. Nora asks, “If you could choose your mother all over, would you choose me again?”. Nadia responds that she had never chosen her in the first place, absolving herself of the guilt that she had felt over the past two seasons. Although Nadia can never fix or change what had happened to Vera or Nora, she has now accepted that they are an integral part of her. Ruth was the most significant part of her chosen family and, although she has now lost that as well, she knows that Ruth loved her and that she loved Ruth.

The second season is the perfect conclusion to Nadia’s story, as she learns to accept that her family’s unfinished business and trauma will always be a part of her. However, she also understands that that should not stop her from living her life with her new chosen family; Alan, Maxine and Lizzy. Ruth was the last connection she had to her family and her trauma, but she comes to understand that Ruth will always be part of her, alongside Nora and Vera.

A third season, in my view, would be unnecessary and ruin the perfect conclusion to an excellently written show.

WORDS Evan Cryan

Practicality and Nostalgia:

the paper versus ebook debate

E-books have been presented as the replacement for paper in a more environmentally conscious, efficient future. In the midst of a climate crisis, the e-reader would seem to be the more environmentally friendly option. E-books are more financially friendly, with classics available for free or under £1. You would think that for the thrifty, eco-conscious student, that e-readers would be the way forward. No-one wants to lug their book collections to college and back twice a year, so these books are left abandoned and unused in the childhood bedroom, gathering dust. There is no need to bother with bookshelves when all our favourite books can be accessed with the tap of a screen. Every college student can appreciate the superiority of the PDF or ebook when it comes to studying. It saves time and sanity when you don’t have to leaf through page after page to find that one little sentence you were looking for. Therefore, the e-reader is arguably the better option in terms of both practicality and efficiency.

And yet, when secondhand book landmark Chapters was threatened with closure in March, students and the wider Dublin community alike were dismayed. Clearly, we have not all thrown our paper books over our shoulders to be replaced with tablets and smartphone apps.

For me, footling around second hand bookshelves is the key to inner peace. I find these places to be pockets of calm and peace, and the process to be extremely meditative. The bookshelves in charity shops are often neglected, which is all the better for me. You can find some beautiful vintage items in these

stores for bargain prices. You can take many a practical note on your iPad, but that’ll never beat scrawled marginalia or a folded over page, or if you’re lucky, an inscription which gives you a clue about the life this book had before it wound up in the neglected corner of a charity shop. It makes me think about the butterfly effect, and it’s fun to ponder who the previous owner was and what they thought about the book. Take, for example, the 1924 hardback edition of Emma that I found in a charity shop and bought for £3. Inside the cover, in beautiful cursive, someone had written: “VJ from FJ, Xmas 1924.” This was a thrill to discover. Who was VJ? Were they married, or family, or simply two friends with the same last initial? And what did VJ think about the book? This will always be a mystery to me, and it’s something you simply can’t find in a Kindle. It is hard to form a sentimental attachment to a black slab, but each new book becomes part of a new story, the memory of buying it and the different places you read it in.

These preloved items can become precious possessions, with sentimental value that you can’t put a price on. Also, on an ereader you can’t open up Madame Bovary only to find that someone has written “Tracey is a boring old fart” in the inside cover. And what about borrowing a book from a friend, only to see that they’ve underlined some harrowing sentences and subsequently bore their soul to you upon the page? Not to mention that vintage books often come in beautiful designs: despite the warning adage we do judge books by their covers. On a practical eco-conscious note, buying second hand or borrowing from friends means elongating the book’s life cycle, and participating in a closed loop system.

There is something disheartening about yet another facet of our lives becoming digitised. We already spend ages staring at computer screens or scrolling on our phones, so picking up a book can come as a welcome break. Carrying three books around in your tote bag only to leave them untouched for a month can prove vital for when you’re on the Dart or sitting in the sunshine, and throw down your phone in disgust with yourself at the amount of time you’re wasting on TikTok.

I think the point I’m making is one about human connection and sentimental value. The debate about whether technology helps or hinders genuine human connection has been well-established. Books, whatever their format, present an opportunity for shared interest and discussion amongst people. However, there is nothing like the thrill of discovering inscriptions and marginalia from strangers you’ll never know who lived 100 years before you. Romanticising strangers and nostalgia trumps practicality.

WORDS Anna Rice

The Impossibilty of Impartiality

In a world where opinions are more plentiful than virtually anything else, do we have and share so many of them because we love to have them, or because human nature simply wouldn’t allow us not to?

I’m not exactly talking about your dad telling you he has no comment on your outfit, even though he absolutely does, he would just rather not have that argument right now. I’m also not explicitly talking about extreme incel forums full of strong, unwavering, and offensive opinions that leave you under no illusion where they stand on certain takes. Whether you believe an opinion is worth expressing is one thing, or worth dealing with the response of the opinion rather, but what are we meant to think when someone claims to not have an opinion at all? Levels of investment aside, is it actually possible to be truly impartial on a topic that you’ve heard of?

At first, I thought yes, perhaps it is possible. Acknowledging that I am someone with opinions who is surrounded by people with opinions came with having to appreciate that having thoughtful opinions was a luxury that I was lucky enough to partake in. College students have a lot of opinions. We are constantly forced to think, after all, about the why behind a lot of what we are learning. And arts students are notoriously the worst (or best) for it, with politics and beliefs from now and the past not only part of everything we do, but typically act as the underlying subject matter of everything we study, even arguably what we aim to study at all. Maybe my initial thinking that everyone must surely have an opinion on everything comes from my own academic training (or honestly perhaps a deeper personality flaw that led me to my course).

With more consideration it becomes apparent that the majority of opinions that are the most intense and deeprooted actually take no real degree-qualifying education . A lot of the most extreme offensive beliefs that we hear nowadays, beliefs rooted in racism, sexism, ableism, transphobia and homophobia, to name a few, require not much education at all. In fact, all of these opinions are likely to change as a result of education on the topics. Opinions on topics are not only formed and considered but passed down like heirlooms through generations of mindless judgment. Judgments are not something that we need to be academically entitled to hold at all, as we seem to be qualified to hold them simply on the basis that we are thinking creatures.

WORDS Abby Cleaver

Frustration arises from apathy, rather than purely the opposition of a point. Naturally this can range from mild annoyance to more serious exasperation the closer the topic is to your heart. These situations occur whenever someone with a considered opinion comes face-to-face with someone who has not fully thought-through the topic at hand, but rather than engage in conversation, or put forward that it is not something that they have much knowledge on to contribute, they use a convenient copout line of saying that they simply have no opinion on the matter at all. However, my biggest gripe with this type of claim of impartiality, is that in these cases, this line is typically used after the person has already expressed their views and were met with disagreement. The everinfuriating abstract argument when a woman is asked why she is pro-choice when abortion is the murder of a baby, only for the initial instigator of the sensitive conversation topic to claim that they have no strong beliefs- they were only wondering! Or the conversation I had with an elderly relative when they told me they have nothing against “the gays”, no judgment either side of same-sex marriage, but that they’d just rather it stayed away from them.

More and more as I consider what it means to have no opinion I figure that claiming to have no opinion is just a safer way of expressing the opinion you think the other person doesn’t want to hear. As I said at the start, your dad absolutely has an opinion on that outfit, he’s just not up for an argument. And that brave devil’s advocate in your tutorials is not so much brave as he is testing the waters of the limits that everyone there has. I have come to believe that having “no opinion” is a shield. While it may not matter for the little things, when it comes to beliefs that sway biases and have hold over how people are treated, it is certainly not as harmless a play as it might sound at first.

“Judgments are not something that we need to be academically entitled to hold at all, as we seem to be qualified to hold them simply on the basis that we are thinking creatures.”

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PHOTOGRAPHY Oscar Toomey