On the River Isis

I skyped back home on Sunday, and my mother's new favorite question was, "Are you warm enough?" Well, it might be a good thing that she's an ocean away, because on Monday morning, she would have fainted. Why? Because I dragged myself out of my cozy bed and into gym shorts, a long sleeved tee under a short sleeved tee, and my jacket, and headed out the door at 5:45am to go rowing. Yeah. That's right. I am rowing at Oxford, and yes, I do feel quite pretentious; thanks for asking. No, but it was an experience, for sure. See, our crew of eight novice rowers met at Regent's Park bright and early (except it was not so bright and a little too early), and we made our way to the university boat house. Guided by the very intense coach, Felicity, and coxed (steered and directed) by Lottie (one of the rowing captains), we made our way up and down the river Isis. Actually, fun nomenclature fact--the river Isis is really the Thames, except that it does a name chance while it passes through Oxford. In a way, it's like the artist formerly known as Prince. Anyway, I was rowing bow, so I was at the front of the boat, which was nifty. We must have been on the river for at least an hour as the sun came up and other colleges started their training. The best feeling was getting into a steady rhythm with the three other guys rowing "bow four," and Felicity shouted from the bank, "Good work, bow four. Not bad." Oh yeah, validation in the a.m.!

I would like to impart some new knowledge that I gained Monday morning. First, when not using your oar, you should cradle it. Yeah, just cradle it in your arms like a tiny baby. Because, I guess oars need love, too. And, if you kill a goose, it's bad news. Once, Felicity's crew actually killed a goose with their boat while crossing the finish line of a race. In theory, you're then supposed to write a letter to the Queen apologizing for goose-icide, but I don't think anyone really does that. Still, how hardcore do you have to be to kill a goose with your oars?! Well, I have to get to bed now. Tomorrow I am rowing at 6am and then again at 3:30pm. I may or may not have arms on Friday. We'll see.

Callbacks

I just wanted to fill you guys in on callbacks for the improvisational comedy group, the Oxford Imps. Well, out of the original like 60 or 70 people that showed up for the first audition, only 25 of us were called back. Each performer did about two improved scenes with a partner, and it was really fun. Ultimately, though, I was not what they were looking for this year. And there were some AMAZING performers at the auditions--I really hope they made it. But what has been the best part of this whole experience is that now I am running into people from the auditions around Oxford. In fact, the morning of callbacks, I was in a lecture on Body and Belief in Late Medieval Literature (which was absolutely amazing, by the way), and one of the guys already in the Imps who was judging at auditions sat down behind me. We talked for a bit about nerdy English Literature stuff before the lecture. That was nifty. Later Friday night, after the auditions, some friends and I were walking down Cornmarket Street when I ran into two of the other people who made call backs. And yesterday afternoon, I ran into someone else from the preliminary auditions. Basically, even though I didn't make the Imps, I've made some sort of impression--at least enough of an impression to be recognizable while hanging out in Oxford. Yay, me!

Tute-talk

Hey, everybody. Well, this week has been hard. I'm not going to lie--it's been really hard. I have had my first meetings with both of my tutors, and I have been to some lectures. I have officially started my Oxford academic life. Let me break it down for you:

On Monday morning at 10:45, Hayley and I had our first Medieval Literature tutorial where we discussed "where we can discern reality in The Canterbury Tales." If your face is making a very weird express, that's OK, because I can guarantee that mine looked about twice as worse. I was not reading for concepts of reality in the text; I was more focused on Chaucer's subversive religious couplets and social criticism. In fact, I had an argument a-brewing in my mind about how Chaucer uses comedy to deliver concerns about a corrupt Medieval Church, only that argument was shut down. Hard. My tutor told me, "No. Chaucer is not a theologian. Do not go down that road." So, after that hour of fairly traumatic fun, I hit the English Faculty Library for research on my Medieval paper about moral framework in the tales. That library, after all the time this week I've spent there, has become my new best friend.

Tuesday was interesting, as well. I checked my e-mail that morning, and after weeks from not hearing from my Wilde tutor, I get an e-mail saying that we're going to meet on Thursday, and to please compose a four to five page essay considering the background of Aestheticism. You remember that face from the last paragraph? Well, insert it here, too, cause I had no idea where to begin. I had a lot of Wilde main work under my belt, but as far as his influences, such as Walter Pater, J.-K. Huysmans, and others, I was completely illiterate. So, my plan was this: go to some lectures on Medieval Lit in the morning, and spend the rest of the day in the EFL (English Faculty Library). I took off to make it to a 10am lecture on Chaucer poetics, only when I arrive, I sit down in Lecture Theatre 2. I needed to be in Lecture Room 2. By the time I realized this and tried to get over to LR2, the room was filled and the next lecture that I wanted to go to at 11am was canceled. Basically, this means that from 10-12:30, I was in the EFL doing research on Pater and Huysmans and their influences on Wilde. I got some great quotations, and seeing as how I only had TWO DAYS to write this essay, I was really quite on top of everything. Except for missing those lectures...

Wednesday was great in the sense that I actually went to my first lecture! Now, lectures are not mandatory, but they provide a lot of information that might be difficult to get from just pouring over books in the libraries. Plus, they provide a social learning environment, unlike the one-on-one tutes. The lecture I went to was called "Aspects of Medieval Literary Theory" and it proved to be insightful, yet really dense. The material, even though watered down quite a bit, was thick--a lot of theory to grasp at once. I enjoyed it well enough, although I don't think it is particularly useful for my papers right now.

Thursday was such a bizarre day. First, Hayley and I went to a brilliant lecture of Middle English, specifically the language and theories of authorship in Medieval texts. Without printing presses, the authors works are given to scribes to rewrite, and scribes make mistakes. Scribes might actually change drastically the meaning of texts, accidentally or intentionally. It's pretty crazy. Also, I found the cultural connotations of different Middle English diction pretty fascinating as well. For example, words from French or Latin roots have more power than words from a Germanic root because French and Latin are used in law courts, official documents, Church decrees, and so on. This new knowledge will definitely come in handy for my Chaucer paper. Thanks, Dr. Barr!

After the lecture, I had my first Wilde tute at Linacre College. That was an, um, interesting experience. My tutor and I talked about Wilde, and I read him my essay that I had composed (although it almost felt like he forgot that he assigned me an essay, which was slightly unnerving...). He gave me a little feedback on my essay, stopping me after every paragraph to kind of gloss what I had written. We then went through Pater's Marius the Epicurean, and he explained to me what that was all about. It wasn't a bad session, but it wasn't mind blowing, either. I left kind of confused about what we actually accomplished and kind of unfulfilled.

Then that evening, I skipped dinner at Regent's Park because I had an audition with The Oxford Imps, an improvisational comedy group. They were pretty nice and fun people, and I did enjoy myself at the auditions, but I was certainly not on my A game. Not even my B game. In fact, I left thinking, "Well, there are plenty of other groups that I can get involved in because there's no way I got a call back." So what am I doing today? Well, I got a call back. They want to see me again because they liked my physicality on stage and my involvement with my scene partners; however, they want to see me out of my comfort zone a little more. Um...yeah, I think I can do that.

Also, today there are two more lectures I want to go to: one on Medieval and another on Decadent Gothic (which I think might help with Wilde). Yep. Wish me luck tonight, and also wish me massive amounts of luck on my Medieval paper. I'm a little nervous about both. Well, have a good week-end, y'all. (Man, I don't get to say y'all enough over here.)

It's Like Harry Potter!

Sorry for the lack of posts, but last weekend was insane! On Friday, Regent's Park has a formal dinner in the dining hall where the lights are dimmed, candles are lit, and everyone is in their academic robes. Oh, yeah, I have academic robes now called a"subfusc." Not entirely sure what that name means, but it makes me feel like I'm in a Harry Potter film. The entire night was gorgeous. Underneath our little swaths of robe, we wear something very "smart," that is to say, something nice. The food was spectacular. Regent's Park actually has a five star rating for it's dining quality, and after Friday night, I believe it. I thoroughly enjoyed the entire evening! I have to dash off to a lecture on "The Poetics of Chaucer," so I'm going to leave you with this picture of me, Hayley, and Danielle before formal hall. Have a great day--I know I will!

Human Addiction

Hi, my name is Jarred, and I'm a People-holic. I love meeting new people, getting to know them, and finding out odd details of their lives. (It's kind of why I wake up in the morning.) I'm admitting my addiction because this week end was the kick off to Freshers Week (or 0 Week, or Naught Week as it is sometimes called), and Saturday night we had a noodle dinner in the Junior Common Room (the JCR--the on campus hang out for undergrads) where I was able to meet the freshers and other international students like myself. First, the other internationals are all Americans from either Kentucky, Missouri, or Minnesota, and most of them will be here for a year, although a handful will only be here for Michaelmas Term (until Christmas). They are a great bunch, and I feel like making friends with them is easier since we share a similar background and are all dealing with life in a new country. However, I'm making it a special point to get involved more with the British students.

As for the British freshers, they are a very clever group! I enjoy hearing about their experiences in the British school system, as well as their social lives. For example, last night I heard about "gap years," something that was not quite familiar to me. A gap year is just a year off from uni (short for university) to travel. Some went to Fiji, Germany, France, the U.S., and it sounds like a great thing to experience before throwing yourself back into the academic fray. Also, I met a lot of enthusiastic freshers filled with questions about the States. They wanted to know where I was from, what was it like, how was the weather, and all of those standard questions, but my favorite question was, "So, I have a relative that lives in Houston, and I am so afraid for her. I mean, what's it like with everyone having a gun? Do you miss your gun?" I laughed a little--I have no gun--and I explained to them that it's not THAT bad, and that I've never been robbed at gun point. The girl who asked that seemed relieved because she really wants to go to the States. Also, I explained to them how I really can't wait to get rid of my car and live in a place with great public transportation like in the UK. Well, they were shocked, and one girl said, "You mean like here? Really?! The transportation is rubbish!" I then explained how in Columbus, public transportation is not reliable, or safe--when the buses come towards me, I am actually afraid for my life. This shocked them, because one guy really wanted a car!

And I can't forget about some of the English English students I've met! This one guy absolutely adores Walt Whitman, and he told me that once, when he had gotten into a debate with another student about how American poetry is always dead, he broke out some Whitman and yelled, "I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs!" I liked that story. Also, I met this Norwegian student at a big international orientation who is not going to Regent's Park, but to another college within Oxford University. Anyway, I told him I studied English Lit, and that I really like Ibsen (who was from Norway, fyi). He was all like, "Yeah, of course, I like him, too. National Pride and all... Where are you from?" I replied, "The States--Georgia. So, the South."
"The South?! Have you read any Tenessee Williams?!"
"OF COURSE!!! I LOVE WILLIAMS!"
He said, "ME, TOO! I saw a production of A Streetcar Named Desire and I LOVE Blanche DuBois!"
I'm glad to see that the Southern taboo of insanity and sexuality has transcended the Mason-Dixon Line and has crossed into Norway.

So, I am extremely happy, what with the meeting of all of these new people from all over the world. I'm not going to lie; there was a point last week where I was shaking from New People Withdrawals. It was pretty bad. But now I'm learning that Oxford--if you're brave enough--can be a town where our multicultural world can mingle and become a truly global community. Yay!

A Keats Treat: A Brief London Exposure

I was so wiped out yesterday that I only had time--or rather, the energy--to only update you on the Bath experience, but yesterday, I went to London for the first time! Our Spencer House gang thought we really needed to make the most of this week before our Regent's Park life began, so we took the day to go see a matinee of A Streetcar Named Desire...or at least that was our plan. See, what had happened was that I saw that Streetcar was playing in London's West End, and I was really interested in seeing an English adaptation of a very Southern play. Plus, Tennessee Williams is a playwright very close to my heart. Well, we got to the theatre, and there were no tickets left. Sold Out. So, there we were, standing in London's West End with not a thing to do after we had taken an hour train ride from Oxford. Our solution? We went to the British Museum!



Founded in 1753, the British Museum houses an impressive array of Egyptian, Grecian, and Roman art. Some notable pieces are the Rosetta Stone and the Parthenon sculptures brought over (aka possibly pillaged by) by Lord Elgin. Even though I'm not a big ancient Egypt fan, I still enjoyed the huge carvings, hieroglyphs, sarcophagi, and votive statues (although there's something about those big ole bulging eyes on ancient votive statues that give me the wiggins). The Grecian statues, however, were an absolute party for the eyes, and I could feel the emotions coming from the marble.


(Surprised Aphrodite--don't surprise goddesses, just as a general rule, ok?)


(Naiads--water nymphs, so the wet drapery effect is pretty and fitting.)

Finally, the most moving piece was the pediment sculptures of the Parthenon. These sculptures, along with many others from the Parthenon, were brought over to England by Lord Elgin, with a rather disregard for ethics. See, Elgin just kind of took these from the capital of Greece as British property, and then they wound up in the British Museum. But did he really have the right to pirate creations which should rightfully belong to Greece? The Romantic poet Lord Byron did not think so, and quite frankly, neither do I. However, all colonial ambiguity aside, the marble work was absolutely breath taking, and while viewing the triangularly arranged gods and goddesses that would have rested in the Parthenon's pediment, I kept thinking of Keat's sonnet, "On Seeing the Elgin Marbles for the First Time," which I will leave here, along with my photos. Read, look, and reflect...like, now:

My spirit is too weak; mortality
Weighs heavily on me like unwilling sleep,
And each imagined pinnacle and steep
Of godlike hardship tells me I must die
Like a sick eagle looking at the sky.
Yet 'tis a gentle luxury to weep,
That I have not the cloudy winds to keep
Fresh for the opening of the morning's eye.
Such dim-conceived glories of the brain
Bring round the heart an indescribable feud;
So do these wonders a most dizzy pain,
That mingles Grecian grandeur with the rude
Wasting of old Time -with a billowy main,
A sun, a shadow of a magnitude.

Bath Time

Hey, everybody. Yesterday, Hayley, Jenny, Danielle, and I decided to make our first UK trip outside of Oxford, and since some of the girls are taking tutorials on Jane Austen, we took off for Bath. Now, Bath is famous for having the only naturally occurring hot springs in the UK, and also, Austen lived there at one point in time (although she loathed it) and set two of her novels there. Actually, the night before we left, we saw a film adaption of Persuasion, which is one of the novels featuring the Gregorian city of Bath. (The film also featured the most awkward kissed I've ever witnessed, which you might want to check out: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wx0cr2KtjmI)

In order to catch our train, we left the Spencer House at 8:30, caught a bus to the city centre, and walked to the station. We arrived in Bath about mid-morning, and the view on the train was spectacular. There were rolling green hills with little house nestled in--it was too picturesque! Our first stop was Bath Abbey--a brilliant church complete with buttresses and a spire. We went in, did the tourist thing, and gazed at the architecture. There was this beautiful stained glass window at the east end of the church that depicted 56 scenes in Christ's life.



After touring the Abbey, we went right next door to the Roman Bath Museum, which housed the remains of the original structures in which the Romans used to wash, socialize, and worship. The site where the hot spring bubbled up was considered by the Romans to be a blessing from the goddess Minerva, yet a lot of the iconography found in the excavation also has elements maybe worshiping Neptune. The museum was loaded with artifacts, such as tombstones, altars, and mosaics. The weather was perfect--clear(ish) skies and a nice breeze--so we had a very enjoyable tour!



The next thing on our tour of Bath was the crazy cross-city walk to The Crescent--a very smart place that was a very socially advantageous place of residence in Austen's time. Actually, that's where the awkward kiss happened in the film adaptation of Persuasion and a lot of awkward running around. But, The Crescent was a very scenic spot, and it overlooked the entire city. On the whole, our trip was a success!