I can't believe my time at Oxford is already half over--it's gone by so quickly! And to celebrate (or mourn?), I shall bring you all up to date on what's been happening here (be warned, this post is rather long!):
I finally had my first ever REALLY GOOD tutorial on Wednesday. My essay was "actually quite good," and I'm just going to pretend I didn't hear the "actually"! In all fairness, Dr. Archer (see picture from black tie dinner) had just mentioned one point he disagreed with and THEN said the essay was actually quite good, so I don't think he meant it as a backhanded compliment.
The Keble history black tie dinner was so much fun. Students from all three year groups attended, as did two history faculty and the warden (more on him in a bit). We all met in the bar for champagne before dinner (the Keble bar because my college has it's own bar, remember?) before heading up to the hall for a delicious meal. I don't mean to bore you with the details, but I will anyway because it will highlight how classy we are: for starters, a white wine (Keble's own, I'm presuming, because now my college has its own house wines) and a goat cheese, roasted red pepper, and black olive tartlet with salad garnish and herb oil, followed by a main of red wine (again, I'm assuming Keble's?) with chicken filled with mushroom and herb stuffing wrapped in Parma ham with chateau potatoes, green beans, and carrots. The dessert, which was probably the best I've had in hall, was a chocolate and orange crème brûlée. Then we had coffee, mints (with the Keble crest on them... I'm assuming you've realized we're rather fancy), and port. Then it was back to the bar for us well-dressed folk for another round of drinks (courtesy of one of the faculty--that would never happen back home!).
During dinner, I was sat in between Joseph and a Tudor historian with whom I've been seated next to at other events, and the conversation was really quite enjoyable. We did venture into politics and the Middle East, but it was done in a rather Oxonian way and more civilized than other discussions on those topics that I've witnessed. Before dessert, the faculty switched places to sit next to new students, and surprise! The warden was my new dinner companion! The warden is the head of the college, or so they will have us believe. But someone thought to ask him if he were the highest authority in college and he wasn't too keen to answer that! I believe the agreed on response between Sir Jonathan and Dr. Archer was that they "were all puppets." Then the warden told us a story about another student further down the table who was in a pantomime that the warden happened to be attending. The student had said "fuck" on stage (for comedic purposes, I'm sure?) and then the warden said "You could see the exact moment in his eyes when he realized what he'd done. And the best way to describe it was 'Oh fuck. Oh fuck, fuck, fuck. I've said 'fuck' in front of the warden!'" So that story made the warden far less scary to sit next to and converse with, specially because we were all still trying to catch our breath minutes later from laughing so hard. Then he asked us what the most disreputable thing we've done since coming to Keble was. And unfortunately for him and everyone reading this, I didn't have an answer! I try not to do anything too disreputable, thank you very much. But Joseph had an answer: he told the warden that he had rung the dinner bell late one night (or early in the morning). Now the warden wasn't so easily convinced, especially because the bell is certainly out of reach from the outside (perhaps 10 feet up?) and can only be rung from inside the room he takes important guests to for port and cheese after dinner. Joseph insisted that he had, though, and on the way out of hall he got a running start and proved to everyone near by that he could, in fact, ring the bell. The warden wasn't present to see it, but I'm confident that he heard it.
I'm in the Light Entertainment (think Monty Python) Society's production this term, playing the part of an angry, feminist evil henchperson in Victorian England. And before you ask, I have yet to find a costume. Because I have no idea. It's a play about a bunch of explorers who are all trying to find this secret treasure and, of course, things go terribly wrong. And there's an ocelot! And a metric ton of ocelot puns! (If you don't know what an ocelot is, like I didn't before the play, do yourself a favor and google it. They are adorable!) I also might (*might* definitely not sure yet. Probably shouldn't write it here because I'm not sure but oh well) go up to Tabland Cambridge for Varsity, a competition between various light entertainment societies in late February.
Term ends on March 14th (Saturday), but I don't fly home until the following Wednesday, so I've decided to do a bit of traveling. I'll be spending a few days in Tabland Cambridge (I made these plans before I knew about Varsity, but I'm sure I'll find enough to do) for a day or so before going to Bath to see the Roman Baths and the Jane Austen House and maybe Stonehenge (I should probably go just to say I've seen it, right?). I'm looking forward to the few days of relaxing travel before going home and leaving soon after for Disney World! (Thanks, Kathryn!).
And last but certainly not least, I've begun research for my senior thesis! Hooray! And in exactly 13 months I will be finished with my 75-125 page research project! It all started (that's a lie. I should say "It was all revived") when I acquired (through legal means, of course! or else I would have had a disreputable story for Sir Jonathan!) 23 postcards from the First World War. If you are in any way associated with me on any other social media site (Facebook, twitter @Lauren_Maly or Instagram @ thefoxinthesweater) you'll be more than aware of my acquisitions. And I don't mean to bore you all with pictures from them all the time, but I find them very interesting--especially because they're coming up on their 100th birthday! Anyway, they're from an English soldier who was serving in France until he was injured and transferred to the Labour Corps and who died, rather unluckily, on the 13th of November, 1918. 2 days after the war ended. So I guess whenever I think I'm having back luck, I'll think about Private Walter Barker. And I'm sure you'll all be so very amused to know that as soon as I wrote that sentence, I realized that I had forgotten the tea I made for lunch and it is now appallingly cold. Yes. Well, I guess it could be worse. Note: Irish Breakfast Tea does not taste good cold. Keep that in mind. Don't forget your tea, folks. But back to WWI. I think I've decided on a thesis topic, and though the professor I wanted to be my advisor is on leave and I need to find a new one, I've already begun general research. And I'm sorry, but I'm about to get rather academic, as well as stream-of-consciousness-y. I hope you like parenthetical phrases! My working title at the moment is: Postcards from the Front: World War I Correspondence, Censorship, and the Concealment of Shell Shock and PTSD. Coming soon to a stressed undergraduate near you! Basically, I want to examine how the censorship (self- or state-imposed) prevented the healthy expression of traumatic experiences (because psychological studies have proven that writing about traumatic experiences can be a way to heal the memories) and either impeded the prevention of or may have actually contributed to the development of cases of shell shock and/or PTSD (both of those terms are themselves problematic, because one is anachronistic and the other is incorrect, but they are still the most useful, I think). And I suppose if anyone is still reading this behemoth of a post, might I ask if you or anyone you know of has any correspondence (letters, postcards [including field postcards or honor envelopes], or even diaries... basically anything) from anyone serving in the First World War? If so, I would be very interested to hear about it! Don't worry--I won't "acquire" (steal, take, eternally borrow) them from you, but I would possibly be interested in obtaining a photocopy or transcription of any surviving material. I will be focusing on British, Irish, and/or American soldiers, but because the topic of censorship is so difficult to study in the first place, I will be looking at any source I can! I think things written from soldiers while they were at the front would be preferable, but there is a lot that can be learned from what they wrote after the war or while they were on leave or in hospitals, so nothing is too irrelevant. Also, materials in a different language are also acceptable, whether or not you speak it (perhaps the case if the letter was from a German, Austrian, French soldier etc or if he were writing home to an immigrant family in which little English was spoken. That's all fine). So yes, if you're able to help in any way, I will happily reward you with my eternal gratitude, baked goods (depending on your location) or edibles, a copy of my finished thesis [I'm thinking something leather-bound might be nice :) ], and, if you'd like, any information I come across in my research that might be relevant to the soldier whose be. Okay, I've realized I should probably just put all this history stuff in another post to save you from reading even more of my rambling.
If you've managed to read this far, congratulations! I'm celebrating the writing of this novella by ordering a pizza. You should celebrate too, you wonderful reader-person. And if you actually did read every paragraph of mine, I really appreciate it! Family and friends: don't be shy! Send me a message! I'd love to hear how you're all doing! (and I would much rather read about you than read about the early Stuart court and its relationship to theatre.... so help a poor historian out!) :D
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