Oxfordian Paradox

Sunday night I attended my first Evensong, the Anglican equivalent of Catholic Vespers and the night Mass mashed together into one. Never having been to a service in a cathedral, I was rather impressed. Even though the Oxford Cathedral (which is the Christ Church chapel) is one of the smallest cathedrals in Europe, it was still marvelous. The service consisted of a variety of prayers and songs and chants, all of them quite lovely. But after about half an hour, I found myself contorting into strange shapes to relieve my back from such perpendicularity. Wooden benches with backs don’t allow much spine curvature, it seems, and my slouching habits simply did not get along with the pews. And it was a bit difficult, as a newcomer, to sing along with the hymns since the words and the music were separated on the page. But despite these minor grievances, the service accomplished a major achievement that I found noteworthy: it did not contradict itself. Hard wooden seats, slightly difficult songbooks, low lighting: all these things felt quite appropriate for the setting. Worship cannot be too comfortable. This service, among the many things I have done so far, was completely true to itself. Other aspects of Oxford are not quite so.

I love my college. St Antony’s is a true community. Sure, it’s not the oldest college around; it’s not even well situated. But everyone is so extraordinarily friendly that I think it is well worth it to have less history and sub-prime real estate (though hopefully not a similar mortgage!). My venerable college, however, suffers from a fatal flaw, a cancer: it builds ugly buildings. If you check out St Antony’s website, the main building pictured is the Lodge, housing the porters’ area, the library, offices, etc. It’s a nice building; though not as stately as Balliol, Christ Church, or Magdalen, it is still lovely. But there is a terrible secret; she has the name Hilda Besse. (Be afraid; be very afraid!) This hideous concrete monstrosity is a sad excuse for architecture. Almost entirely concrete, the Hilda Besse building looks like a discarded design for a trash compactor that the artist neglected to paint because it was so hopeless. And what’s worse, it is a protected building! Yes, this building, to architecture what a polka dotted leisure suit is to fashion, cannot be altered in any way - something about what lovely symmetry it has I think. Sadness overwhelms me when I think that £2 million (or so I hear) is spent every year in upkeep of this eyesore because its faulty design cannot be fixed. Tragic.

But, I wouldn’t be too upset just about Hilda. Hilda is a wonderful name, after all, and the place provides good food for a cheap price and a rather comfortable common room. I’m sure I will have many good times in Hilda’s company. So I was prepared to forgive St Antony’s of its grievous sin until I read more on the website. It seems my college is determined to continue its tradition of awful building designs. In the coming years will be built a new Middle Eastern Studies Centre, which will look like a space-age corset turned on its side, connecting the lodge and the Hilda Besse. Woe to us all. So there we have contradiction number one: extreme, almost laughable contrasts in architecture. Although my college does seem to be a nucleus of this bipolarism, it can be seen elsewhere too. And may I point out, just to be clear, that I really love my college and all its members; but I very much think it a shame that the lovely old convent that forms the center of the college should be disgraced by such shameful “modern” buildings in its company.

But my feelings on architecture aside, Oxford has plenty of other contradictions running through its veins, and there are a number of pleasant and comical ones. For instance, compared to the States, England is full of environmentalists to the hilt. This I have no problem with, for most of them are quite reasonable and are simply concerned that people take simple steps to make the Earth a better place (like recycling and other easy tasks). When you go to the local grocery (Sainsbury’s), the cashier always asks if you want bags, assuming that most people will present a reusable bag rather than continue hurting the local dale by using plastic. And there are a number of green clubs and societies available to promote green initiatives. But despite all of the greenery, the University every year chops down at least 660 trees to publish one single, completely worthless edition (if you ask for my calculations, I will provide them – they are based on Oxford figures and information from conservatree.com – the estimate is quite conservative). This, my friends, is the veritable Examinations Regulations book, published annually and given to every single new student. Weighing in at about five pounds, this 1100 page masterpiece contains the rules and regulations of every single degree offered at Oxford, both undergraduate and graduate. If you want to use Akkadian as your language for a degree in Oriental Studies, or if you want a postgraduate certificate in the Provision of Healthcare to Homeless People, now you can quickly discover the proper coursework and requirements. In this weighty tome, the specifications for my degree (an MPhil in Economics) take up less than two full pages, and my program’s induction told me everything I needed to know anyway. So it really is worthless. Unless, of course, you sell it on ebay for $150 to a tourist wanting an authentic piece of Oxford (I have it on good evidence that this has occurred). In any case, to all you environmentalists out there, you have a new target; until it is abolished, though, we can all chuckle at the ridiculous contradiction that is the Exam Regulation book.

There are yet other contradictions: for me, a Southern boy, to see such a green landscape (the color, that is) while feeling such cold weather is quite the paradox. Then there is the fact that I just returned from the common room, where tea is had whilst watching the Simpsons most every evening. And of course there is the most obvious of them all, the modernity surrounding the medieval buildings. Whether it is the bus system or the cell phones or the always fashionable British youth, Oxford is a cauldron of the ages. And that is precisely what will bring me back to visit after my degree is complete. This is a city that is always changing but always the same; it is an ever-aging body with an ever-progressive mind. And I admit there is a draw to those ridiculous buildings that spring up from time to time. It reminds us that old buildings do not imply solely old notions in their denizens. And as much as I think the old notions of architecture are better than the new, this is not the case in all fields and I would be foolish to forget it. So I raise my glass to this city of past and present; may it have an unforeseeable future.