P a RLONS - ULIP Students` Union

Pa RLONS
A University of London Institute in Paris Students’ Union Publication
May 2014
The Final Curtain
1
CONTRIBUTORS
Hannah Cartwright
Benjamin Wright
Kate Goodbody
Rosanna Fieldsend
Neil Fulton
George Willard
Annie Renn
Erica Burnham
Sadie Fletcher
Calum Paramor
Sophie Small
Rosie Gillard
EDITORIAL
Sophie Small
Rosie Gillard
Calum Paramor
This edition © 2014 Parlons
Email to: [email protected]
2
CONTENTS
Editorial Goodbyes
4
Presidential Goodbye
8
Presidential Hello
10
Tinder Loving Care
12
Watering Holes
15
School’s Out
17
Po(tato)em
18
On Ya Velib
19
The Future Cometh
21
Erica’s Corner
23
Is Frozen Feminist?
25
Dare to Pep
30
It Wasn’t Me
32
Crossword
34
Entre Guillemets
36
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EDITORIAL GOODBYES
In their final issue as editors, the
Parlons team say their goodbyes.
4
EDITORIAL GOODBYE – ROSIE
So here we are. The final issue
and the final days of term.
Where did this year go?! Part of
me has never felt relief like this
and cannot wait to no longer be
a student; no more essays ever,
no more exams, no more
drinking 2€ wine (well…), no
more
midnight
grammar
cramming
sessions
on
french.about.com. But the
other half of me isn’t ready to
face the reality of not being at
ULIP.
In the spirit of expressing
gratitude I’d also like to thank
all the ULIP lecturers: thank
you for imparting your wisdom
- you really do know a lot. It
was really quite overwhelming
sometimes. And thank you to
those of you (i.e. most of you)
who have had a tearful, stressed
out Rosie on your hands. The
endless supply of tissues was
much appreciated.
I want to start by thanking my
fellow editors Calum and
Sophie. It was stressful, but we
did good, and more importantly
we all supported each other like
true team players. The media
dream team. We’re really
excited that so much interest
was shown for the handover
and as sad as we’ll all be letting
go, we are certain that the new
team will do a fantastic job.
Thank you also to everyone for
contributing this year. You’re a
talented bunch and I hope that
someone will post me the
future editions of Parlons so I
can cling on to something that
was once mine. I’m sure there
will be a lot of that happening
as we make the progression
from students to graduates.
BA1: you have so much ahead
of you, you lucky little
ducklings. You’re gonna love
what’s to come.
To Erica: never change.
BA2: a year goes quickly…
Bulk buy black biros.
BA3: I can’t wait for the ULIP
reunion in twenty years. Good
luck you wonderful bunch.
Much love
Rosie.
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EDITORIAL GOODBYE - CALUM
Crikey. This year has gone
quickly. It really does not seem
like the better part of a year since
me, Rosie and Sophie were
desperately trying to claw together
the Fresher’s Guide in time for
the Buddy Day.
Even if there were moments of
panic and frustration (particularly
with Microsoft Word cause it’s a
right dick), I’ve really loved my
time on the Parlons team, it’s
been great fun reading everything
you guys send in alongside my
fellow editors Rosie Gillard and
Sophie Small.
It’s a real testament to the
exceptional quality of our student
body that every issue this year has
had a full complement of articles,
all of which added something to
each issue. It’s quite an incredible
thing to be able to say about such
a small university but I have no
qualms about saying it. Kudos to
all of you who wrote for us this
year, you talented bunch.
It’s hard to let go of this kind of
thing but it’s made a lot easier by
the team that we’ll be handing
over too. They’re a big team and,
from what they’ve told me, have a
lot of great ideas on how to take
Parlons to pastures new and the
skills necessary to get them there.
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It’s harder still to say goodbye.
True, I’ll still be in Paris next year
(expect a breakdown over
summer that’ll see me return in
September insisting that I’m still
in third year) but it’ll never quite
be the same. That’s exciting but
it’s also scary as fuck.
As for you, people of ULIP –
staff and students all-, I love you
dearly and I’ll miss you all for
your kindness, the things I’ve
learnt from you and your ability
to tolerate me talking at you for
long periods of time without
snapping.
So long and thanks for all the fish,
Calum
EDITORIAL GOODBYE - SOPHIE
So I didn’t really want to write
a goodbye article because well,
sentimental isn’t really my
thing. However, having read
the lovely words of Calum and
Rosie, I don’t seem to have
much choice so here we go.
So thank you to all that have
made Parlons what it has
become, including those who
contributed to the glossy
covers. We wish you luck for
next year and can’t wait to see
what you produce!
Parlons has been so so great
the past year and it has been
amazing to see it grow. The
contributions have been
amazing, and the standard of
the student body is incredible
which has enabled us to put
together issues of quality every
time. We have loved reading
every article even if we had to
bribe with mince pies to get
them and it is so reassuring to
know that the incoming team
share our drive to keep it
going in the same direction.
Reading your ‘Entre
Guillemets’ has been super
fun and we really hope to see
the issues next year with all
the new ideas and features.
Lots of love,
ULIP’s Ice Queen
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PRESIDENTIAL
GOODBYE
With a big manly tear in his eye, Ben
Wright takes a bow.
Three years have now passed in
this fine institution and I am more
bitter than a corner Brasserie
espresso about leaving. It has
been
the
most
incredible
experience at ULIP which has
only got better as I have gone
through each year. My career in
student politics started with defeat
in the BA1 elections (obviously I
wasn’t enough of a BNOC in the
first few weeks); followed by a
successful campaign as BA2 rep
resulting in election to the
Presidency.
I would like to take this farewell
opportunity to pass on my
immense gratitude to every single
member of the student body in
their (more or less) unwavering
participation in everything we do.
Most notable mention goes to this
year’s Exec Committee in their
handling
of
some
tough
challenges faced by the SU,
especially to my right-hand man
Mr Calum Paramor, his tenacity
and
abilities
have
been
exceptional. Someone who has
lived a replica of my rise to power
is Hannah Cartwright. Despite the
sad situation where only one
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person went for Pres this year, it
matters not that we have Hannah
to take the reins as she is the best
candidate and will do a fine job.
I am writing this whilst sat in the
ULIP library which has been the
hub of all gossip and general
ULIP activity for the past three
years, it will be missed by all of us
BA3s. Katie O’Dowdall seemed
nearly in tears as she surveyed its
charms the other day, reminding
me that our time here is nearly
over. However, there is still one
massive thing to look forward to
and that is the End of Year Ball
2k14. It promises to be the best
yet and I cannot wait to see you
all there, I am going to try and
remember this one.
As for Parlons, I thank the hard
work of its editors, with special
mention to Rosie Gillard who has
worked like an absolute trooper
other the last year. I shall not
forget the pandemonium of her
trying to hand out Alternative
Prospectuses during Freshers’
week. It was a charmingly farcical
enough to be considered by the
BBC for a continuation of a Carry
On film.
Thank you all so much for the
opportunity to be your President,
it was an absolute blast and I
don’t want to leave. Don’t make
me leave ULIP. Good luck to all
in exams, to BA3 in their next
adventures and BA1 and BA2 in
their continuation in Paris.
Finally, Chelsea are probably
going to win the league and the
European cup next Season. Don’t
forget to make Jose Mourinho an
honorary member next year.
COME ON THE CHELS.
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PRESIDENTIAL HELLO
Incoming SU President, Hannah Cartwright,
makes her Parlons debut.
Oh-Hi-ULIP,
I feel I must tell you that I feel a
tad under pressure as the last
thing I wrote that got printed
properly like this was a letter to
my local paper, The Cornishman,
about helicopters or chutney or
something equally as important,
so bear with me and I promise I’ll
try to not throw in too many
Cornwall references (because
apparently I do that a lot). Right
my birds, let’s get this show on
the road...
I think I speak on behalf of
everyone when I say that this year
has been a cracking one.
Obviously there were ups and
downs and all that bollocks, but I
have very much enjoyed it and I
hope you have as well. It’s with
heavy hearts that we will have to
send our third years off into the
big wide world of Not-ULIP but
hopefully they’ll be abusing their
power to attend events as and
when they seem fit, so that we
don’t have to go cold turkey. I
cannot speak highly enough of
this year’s SU Exec Committee
Ben, Calum, Katie, Nick, Joe, and
other high profile BA3s that have
worked so hard to make a
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difference this year. Without this
team of dedicated ULIP-ers these
past months would not have been
the same. We’ve seen the final
introduction of food downstairs
(despite
the
controversy
contained there-in), a brand
spanking new event space that we
have taken great advantage of
(that has a great floor for gliding
around on when using wheeled
chairs), a great selection of
Parlons’, some lovely live lounges,
the introduction of outside
pastoral care, one of ULIP’s first
female sports teams and the best
slut drop I think I have ever seen
courtesy of James “Piles” Kelly.
Hopefully we’ll see just as many
happenings next year.
I couldn’t even consider trying to
fill Ben’s shoes as SU President,
mainly because my feet are
notoriously small. I’ll try and carry
the torch with as much gusto as
our bearded barista has this year,
and look forward to seeing
everyone at the top of the Tour
de Montparnasse for the Swinging
Sixties ball which is set to be
absolutely cracking.
Don’t sweat the small stuff, take
regular breaks from revision, if in
doubt get yourself a hot
beverage/a pint and if you don’t
want to start a fight, wear a big
hat. In the words of Fagin’s gang:
So long, Fare thee well, Pip Pip,
Cheerio, we’ll be back soon!
Cheers and gone. Kernow Bys
Vyken.
11
TINDER LOVING CARE
Rosanna Fieldsend gives us her list of 10
Tinderssential words to know.
Given my iPhone is already
littered with the many, many
coloured squares that dictate
social fads, I decided it was
probably time for another
addition that might, as that small
red fire thing so urges me to
believe, result in the ignition of
some form of romance. Yes, I’m
talking about Tinder. And my oh
my, do I love it.
What’s not to like? It’s a catalogue
of men. A veritable arsenal, no
less, of young men who are
nearby and looking for fun, and
there you are, with all the power
you wield in just one thumb,
swiping to your heart’s desire in
search of your heart’s desire. It’s
easy, it’s efficient, it’s horribly
shallow. What more could you
want? Tinder: the future of all
dating, hook-ups and booty calls.
In fact, let’s just rename booty
calls right now – booTinder calls.
Yup. It’s nothing short of genius.
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Oh, that gets me thinking. Every
social media outlet has its own
vocabulary. Just this week I learnt
how to retweet and that
Instagram is a verb (I’m an avid
Instagrammer), plus have we all
noticed how fraping is no longer
such a thing? Anyway. It’s time
Tinder got in there with its
own Tindictionary. Here are some
of my suggestions:
1. Tinning. As in winning. As in
the feeling of delight and glory I
feel every time I see It’s a Match!
YES! WIN! I defied the
competition and won the trophy
that is this little screen and ding
noise! You know what I’m talking
about, after you swipe someone
right and you wait those long
anxious seconds to find out
that… YES IT’S A MATCH! So
exciting. I love Tinning.
2. Tinderlicious. When it’s a
really fit guy. Oh hello biceps and
a cheeky smile! Swipe right.
3. Tindreadful. When it’s a really
lame guy. Men who pout are so
sexy – said no one ever. Unless
you’re Cristiano Ronaldo, just no.
And what’s with these selfie mug
shots? You’ve completely misread
the whole women-like-a-bad-boy
thing.
4. Tindud. When it’s a photo of a
tree.
5. Tind’oh! I meant to swipe
right/left! Now he’ll forever be
the one that got away/the one
that won’t go away! Also
accepted: Tindammit.
6. Tindetiquette. I’m not really
sure of the do’s and don’t’s
regarding the immediate postmatch conversation. I usually
have the men break the ice, but
only because that’s the standard in
non-virtual situations. But after
the ça-vas and oui-très-bien-mercis,
where do you go? Small talk is all
well and fine, but shouldn’t we
just be having this conversation in
real life over un café or better yet
un verre? How soon is too soon
just to ask for someone’s number?
OR, if it really is just sex you’re
looking for, how do you go about
that? BooTindering: what are the
rules?
7. Tinder Surprise. As in Kinder
Surprise. If you don’t know what
I’m referring to I suggest you
revise your childhood years. My
Tinder Surprises are usually when,
oo! I’ve found an English one!
How lucky. Sorry Frenchies but
my native country often calls to
me in the form of its charming
gentlemen. And this guy is indeed
charming, maybe a little geeky but
who wouldn’t love a guy who’s
holding a starfish in his photo?
8. Tinderests. Tinder aims to
find your soon-to-be beloved
based on your Facebook profile,
amongst friends of friends, for
example, or those who “Like” the
same pages that you “Like”, so
you have the same interests. Or
Tinderests. Sounds good, but it
doesn’t always go to plan.
Imagine my excitement when I
see that with one chap, a
handsome 23-year-old by the
name of Nicolas, I have a shared
interest: Monoprix. Our shared
interest is Monoprix. A moot
point on several levels, not least
because I harbour a far greater
affinity for my local Franprix, that
sadly has not yet reached the
heights of a Facebook page.
TinFAIL.
13
9. TinFAIL. When Tinder…
fails. Or you fail on Tinder, as you
like. The ultimate TinFAIL is, of
course, accidentally hitting “Tell
my Friends” when you get a
match. Can you imagine?
Publically announcing to 600
former
schoolmates
and
colleagues that a random stranger
finds you just about attractive
enough to move his thumb an
inch to the right? Does
ANYONE do this deliberately?
God forbid.
10. Tingagement. They met on
Tinder, shared Tinderliciousness
and probably bootTindered, but
to theirs and everyone else’s
Tinder Surprise, they had multiple
Tinderests and, zero TinFAILS
later, lo and behold the words you
love to hear: “We’re Tingaged!”
And they said romance was dead.
So there you have it, some
Tindditions to your 21st century
social media slang. I expect to be
hearing from Tinder imminently,
14
begging me for the publishing
rights of these fantastically
creative Tinventions. In the
meantime, I strongly recommend
you jump on the Tinderwagon
and get swiping, because you
might just get lucky. I’ve just
swapped numbers with the
English guy, for example.
Because, well, we all need a bit of
TLC from time to time, do we
not?
WATERING HOLES
Kate Goodbody shares a few of her
favourite spaces to while away an
evening, drink in hand.
One dark night in February my
dear self and another member of
the ULIP student population were
meant to be working on our
Dragons’ Den project but we got
a little distracted by several bottles
of wine and the Time Out website
with its vast list of bars, clubs and
other vendors of inebriating
spirits. I cannot take full credit for
finding all of the establishments I
am about to describe, but I most
definitely have drunk in all of
them so I think that’s just as
good. Isn’t it?
their Tiki themed interior
including
puffer
fish
for
lampshades and fishbowls which
arrived in conch shells containing
floating halves of passion fruit on
fire, I can’t deny the strangeness
but brilliance of it. It isn’t
massively cheap but they do a
rather
interesting
coconut
concoction for 6€ for lovers of all
things a little bit Malibu. Overall,
a triumph of a find.
Dirty Dick
This unusually named bar on rue
Frochot looks rather bizarre with
its wooden exterior amongst all of
the sex shops in everyone’s
favourite trendy area, SoPi. When
we made our first trip the
delightful (said with no sarcasm at
all) bouncer asked us for our ID
because he didn’t believe we were
as young as we said we were – a
new experience for me as I
recently got asked if I was a friend
of the 13 year old I look after, not
the person who was in charge of
her safety. But I digress. With
Le Cristal
A personal favourite of mine not
only because it is a 2 minute walk
from my flat, but because I’ve
never had a bad night here.
Found at 163 Avenue de Suffren,
it looks rather unsuspecting
during the day but is usually
rammed most nights of the week
despite it often being very hard to
15
sit down in the cramped
conditions, especially when it’s
raining and all of the people from
the smoking area cram themselves
in too. With Kronenbourg sold in
plastic cups, it isn’t the classiest of
places but it has a certain charm.
The bar staff ring a bell each time
they get a tip which causes more
and more people to cheer. The
atmosphere is very friendly and if
you want to go and talk to French
people
in
an
unforced
environment like a speed-dating
type thing then I’d recommend it.
If anyone does decide to go, I
must add a disclaimer: the loos
are horrific, but it definitely has
character.
Caméléon
Now before I write about this bar
I must admit that I’ve only ever
had an actual drink here once
because every other time we’ve
been, there has been nowhere to
sit. A sure sign of a quality
establishment I think you will
16
agree. The one time I did manage
to grab a pew here I had a
cocktail called an Aretha (insert
pun about giving them RESPECT
etc), so it can’t be bad at all in my
book. Hidden away at the end of
Rue Saint-André-des-Arts it is
very handy for a cheeky kebab
from Gyros on the way home.
Need I sell this place to you
anymore?
Whether these three haunts of
mine are unknown to you or your
regular drinking dens – I hope
they give you as much pleasure as
they have given me. Hopefully it
is in the form of a stiff drink after
a
hard
day
picking
up
children/despairing about French
bureaucracy/celebrating
the
arrival of your student loan in
your bank account.
S C H O O L’ S O U T
Finally free of the shackles of University,
Sophie Small has put together an
appropriate playlist.
There only seems to be one song
springing to my weary, examdrained mind this week and that is
of course Alice Cooper’s ‘School’s
Out’. ‘…For summer’ for some of
you, whilst for me, school is out
FOREVER.
Never again will I read a book
that hasn’t been specifically
chosen by me, sit at a table
precisely 1.25m away from any
other human being or have to
decide whether or not my day will
be ruined by getting a result back.
So to celebrate my recent
liberation I will share with you my
current ‘Fuck I’m Free’ playlist so
that you too can rejoice in your
newfound freedom, or delight in
your temporary escape from the
shackles that are university.
This is just a list of feel good
tunes and is not specific to
any kind of genre:
Jungle- Busy Earnin’ or Platoon
or Bring the Heat
Iglooghost- Oolong Tea (feat.
Kae)
The Child of Lov- Heal
Little Dragon- Let Go
Tonton du bled- 113 (Guido.
Acid Arab Edit)
Beaty Heart- Yadwigha’s Theme
Kelis- Rumble (Breach Remix)
Every Fleetwood Mac song
Tony Sarfo & The Funky
Afrosibi- I Beg
Cat Claw and the Better Love
Crew- The Golden Rule
Sneaker Pimps- 6 Underground
Fila Brazillia- Harmonicas Are
Shite
The Allman Brothers BandOne Way Out
DEVO- Gut Feeling
George Benson- Give Me The
Night
Andy Bey- Celestial Blues
Heat Wave- Boogie Nights
And my all time favourite:
Grease- Grease is the Word
To those of you who will be
returning to ULIP in September,
you have your yearly Muji
stationary shop to look forward
to. And everybody else, enjoy the
rest of your lives!
17
PO(TATO)EM
Amongst this fog,
This ether,
This faint pain
That is my hangover,
I am no longer aware
If this cold
Plain
Baked potato
Is to be the pinnacle of my day
Or its lowest ebb.
18
ON YA VELIB
Sadie Fletcher tells us about her first
experience of that great fixture of
Parisian life: the Vélib.
The last time I can remember
riding a bike was a good 6 years
ago in the safety of a quiet park a
mere 15 minutes from my house
with my sisters firmly by my side.
I’d hardly had the experiences of
a discerning cyclist and had only
ever ridden on the swarming
streets of London once, and even
then I had been on back of my
dad’s bike. So, when, in our final
term as BA1s we missed the last
metro the last thing I could
imagine myself doing was
Velib’ing home.
In our suitably merry state the
array of bikes, illuminated by the
street lights seemed a novelty that
was all too tempting. Surely you
can’t forget how to ride a bike?
We were spoilt for choice and
sensibly followed the solid advice
of trying before riding. Eventually
we settled on our two wheeled
death traps of choice, bagging
ourselves the fairest bikes that
Europe Velib’ station had to offer
with the firmest of tyres and
functioning breaks. And if the
shoe fits? Wear it (and obviously
Instagram and tweet about it as
well).
With my mother’s advice to never
ride at night ringing in my ears,
especially without a helmet I was
hesitant. Of course everyone
should be wearing practical flat
shoes, the ‘I mean business’
bicycle apparel, head gear and all.
But this is Paris, the chic of chic
where high visibility isn’t exactly à
la mode. So with a flash of our
Navigos we were off. Well, off I
wobbled, clutching at the brakes
and thanking my lucky stars that
I’d chosen to wear trainers that
night.
It turns out you can forget how to
ride a bike. After about 20
minutes I may not have mastered
riding with the agility and
elegance of that of the Parisian
commuters of Invalides but I’d
cracked the basics; I was riding in
a straight line. We soon realised
that we were approaching the
junction of the Champs Elysées.
The bike ride had just been taken
up a gear or two (quite literally).
The big C was true to form and as
19
hectic as ever. It must take pity on
screeching foreigners because
remarkably we only had one
minor hiccup involving the
halting of traffic on the outside
lane (a bike is no longer a
plausible companion for me when
passing through major junctions.)
I would have resorted to
abandoning the bike had I not
seen the glimmer of hope on the
horizon, a bicycle lane, a novice’s
saviour. Thankfully we all made it
home in one piece (and so did the
bikes) with the only dents being in
my dignity…a whole 50 minutes
later.
Subsequent Velib’ rides however
have been much less turbulent
and I don’t think anyone can deny
that if you want to feel Parisian,
Velibs are the way forward…
when armed with a mighty shiny
silver bicycle bell who needs to
dress in all-black? Velib’ing is
hands down one of the best ways
to unearth the hidden gems that
Paris has to offer, provided main
junctions and speeds above 10
mph are avoided.
20
home in one piece (and so did the
bikes) with the only dents being in
my dignity…a whole 50 minutes
later.
Subsequent Velib’ rides however
have been much less turbulent
and I don’t think anyone can deny
that if you want to feel Parisian,
Velibs are the way forward…
when armed with a mighty shiny
silver bicycle bell who needs to
dress in all-black? Velib’ing is
hands down one of the best ways
to unearth the hidden gems that
Paris has to offer, provided main
junctions and speeds above 10
mph are avoided.
home in one piece (and so did
the bikes) with the only dents
being in my dignity…a whole 50
minutes
later.
Subsequent Velib’ rides however
have been much less turbulent
and I don’t think anyone can deny
that if you want to feel Parisian,
Velibs are the way forward…
when armed with a mighty shiny
silver bicycle bell who needs to
dress in all-black? Velib’ing is
hands down one of the best ways
to unearth the hidden gems
THE FUTURE COMETH
For third years, the future is on its way. Rosie
Gillard reflects on the last three years.
I thought that my final article for
Parlons should be intellectually
stimulating, or failing that, in
traditional Rosie Gillard fashion,
be about Beyoncé. However I’ve
settled for a good, old-fashioned
goodbye piece. I really wanted to
avoid an “it’s so sad we’re leaving
ULIP is so great” article but voilà.
It has absolutely happened.
Because it is absolutely true. I fear
for non-third years this article
may just seem really soppy and
possibly slightly patronizing, like
emotional nostalgia is reserved
only to those about to depart. But
your time will come, so whatever.
Here we go. Sob, sob.
one hand, cup of tea in the other,
I saw several articles debating
whether students should bother
paying through the nose for a
degree that potentially won’t
better your chances in the scary
world of W-O-R-K. It’s an old
debate now, and everyone knows
that being a student is the best
time of your life.
And here I am, degree drawing to
a close, freaking the f*** out
about impending exam doom,
chained to the library, counting
down the minutes until I can
reward my efforts with a banana.
Bleak. However, a cheerful nature
still fills the ULIP corridors. As
much as we want to hate
While I was in England enjoying
the calm before the revision
storm, leafing through the endless
pile of glorious Sunday Times
supplements, hot cross bun in
everyone and everything during
this tough time, we simply cannot.
Because our institution is fab.
And our time here has been
sensational. Where else do you
21
have the opportunity to discover
wine: will Nick Kent ever forgive
the joys of feminism, tequila, and
me?) romances, and a lot of
nineteenth century French
‘personal growth’ (yuck.)
literature simultaneously? Before I
Everyone laughs at each other’s
came to university I didn’t even
student card photos because we
know those three things could be
do look so young and so scared. I
muttered in the same sentence.
had a side fringe, for God’s sake.
What’s more we get taught some,
let’s face it, really interesting stuff
But we have all grown up a lot.
by lecturers that are absolutely top
We’ve learnt how to cook, how to
of their game. I can actually
speak French (despite what
answer questions on University
Geoffrey Roger says), and how to
Challenge now.
become (almost) self-sufficient
young adults! The future is really
scary but I think we’re all going to
be fine.
I think that most of the year
group will agree with me when I
say our time here has been
nothing short of fabulous. We’ve
had it all: scandals (let us
remember the throwing of the red
22
ERICA’S CORNER
Erica shares her favourite attempts to
capture the essence of places and
peoples.
Faced with the prospect of
moving again, I’m noticing many
clever images and videos
attempting to capture Paris
neighbourhoods’ essence. Always
restrictive, sometimes funny, here
are a few of my favourites:
Impossibly clever with razor
sharp design, Paris vs New York
entertains on a tourist level. Paris
mapped onto New York and New
York onto Paris, evaluate your
coolness factor by
neighbourhood.
Havas Worldwide, a design
agency, released this video as a
seasonal greeting:
http://vimeo.com/57692587
http://parisvsnyc.blogspot.fr/201
2/05/le-plan.html
The photographer Janol Alpin has
begun a project titled
‘Métropolisson’ where he
attempts to bring each metro
station to life. Now published as a
book, it will make a kitschy
souvenir.
http://www.janolapin.com/photos/metropolisson
Being French, a how-to
manual:
Forget about the ‘Year in the
merde’ franchise, my all-time
favourite book about France in
general is ‘Sixty million
Frenchmen can't be wrong : what
makes the French so French’ (or,
Why we love France but not the
French) by Jean-Benoît Nadeau
and Julie Barlow. Now that you
have a year or more of living in
France under your belt, read this
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book written by two Canadians
over the course of a year in Paris.
It’s a decade old by now and due
for a second edition, but as you
may have guessed, France is slow
to change. SLOOOOOOOW.
Have a great summer. Happy
trails to those who are graduating.
Go explore France and bring me
back a rock from the Drôme,
sand from the Morbihan, a Front
National poster from Nice (just
kidding!) and a bottle of Floc
from Gascogne.
Peace, love and kitchen dancing,
Erica
One more video that made the
rounds last year. ‘How to fake
French’
http://youtu.be/edYHlnhxyOI
24
IS FROZEN FEMINIST?
For all those suggesting Frozen is a
feminist film, Annie Renn has three
words for you: let it go. (SPOILERS)
Anyone who hasn't spent the past
few months living under a rock
cannot have escaped the recent
craze that is Disney's latest
animated film, Frozen. I can't
deny that I have been utterly
swept up in it; I have watched the
film multiple times, listened to
'Let it go' more times than I can
count and have used every
opportunity to fit “the cold never
bothered me anyway” into
conversation. However, one thing
I can't get my head around is the
idea that Frozen is some sort of
revolutionary feminist film.
claiming Frozen to be just that.
There are dozens of reasons that
have brought people to this
conclusion, but for the sake of
your sanity and my getting any
revision done at all, I will stick to
the main three that seem to keep
cropping up:
1) The film features two 'strong
female protagonists'.
2) The film doesn't have a
wedding, and it is sisterly love,
not romantic love that saves the
day.
3) The film subverts our
expectations when Anna ‘is
mocked for falling in love with a
guy she has known for a day, the
kind romantic story that was once
a staple in Disney films.
During the many hours I have
spent trawling the internet
(usually avoiding revision) I have
stumbled across a plethora (what
a wonderful word!) of articles
Well, firstly, let's tackle this
'strong female protagonists'
business. Undoubtedly, Anna and
Elsa are both female. No
arguments from me there.
However, I think it is quite clear
that Elsa, while not being a
25
'villain' as such, is almost certainly
an antagonist rather than a
protagonist. This may seem like a
pointless distinction, but when we
consider that Disney has no real
shortage of female antagonists
who are arguably pretty stronguntil their inevitable demise,
obviously, we're talking Disney
after all- (think Ursula, Cruella De
Ville, Mother Gothel, etc). It
seems that this might not be so
revolutionary after all. This brings
me nicely on to the idea that the
characters are both, apparently,
'strong'.
Let's start with Anna. In true
Disney Princess fashion, she
starts the film with the typical
foreshadowing song about her
eventual aim which she will
ultimately achieve (Rapunzel
wants to see the floating lights,
Tiana wants to open a restaurant,
Ariel wants to see above the
sea...I could go on). This is a
classic Disney Princess thing, and
26
in their quest to achieve this, they
meet their handsome prince
somewhere along the way.
Hooray for them. Now I'm not
critiquing this set-up, it's a format
that demonstrably works, and
although obviously not realistic,
we're talking Disney; hardly
known for gritty realism.
However, my point is that Anna
is the first princess in decades
(since Sleeping Beauty, if my
memory serves me right) whose
ultimate aim is to find a man.
Well, good for her, if that's what
she wants, but it's hardly a
feminist dream.
While we're critiquing Anna, let's
discuss this business about our
supposed subverted expectations;
okay, so Anna thinks she's in love
with the first vaguely attractive (in
cartoon terms) bloke she bumps
into (literally) and we all go “pfft,
typical Disney, how unrealistic
blah blah blah”... but then, when
she eventually falls in love with
the second vaguely attractive
cartoon guy she meets... well,
that's fine obviously. I suppose
they went on a journey together
and I'm sure that level of cold can
do funny things to your brain, but
really (if I was writing for a trashy
women's magazine, here is the
point where I'd write 'pur-lease'.
But I'm not, so I won't). If you
watch the film carefully (which I
have- a lot) you can see that Anna
and Hans spend a full day
together, which while not enough
time to sensibly decide to get
married to someone, is quite
enough to develop some sort of
feelings of attraction. Anna and
Kristoph spend about the same- if
not less- time together, so the
situation is basically the same
(except, of course, that Hans
turns out to be a power-grabbing
twat and Kristoph seems like a
top bloke).
spoken to her sister in years,
when she got a bit pissed off and
accidentally covered everywhere
in ice. What exactly are you basing
this on, Anna? Understandably,
she needs Kristoph's help to get
to Elsa (remember the
cringeworthy mountain-climbing
scene; this girl couldn't survive on
her own), which hardly shows her
strength.
“But wait!” I hear you
metaphorically cry, “Even if she's
not a protagonist, surely Elsa is a
strong female character!”. Well, is she?
I'd also argue that Anna is pretty
damn stupid. I mean, she runs off
into the snow, on her own,
without even taking a coat, to go
after her clearly dangerous sister,
who she claims “would never
hurt” her. This, don't forget is
after the first time that she's
I could go into a lot of detail
about this, but as far as I can see,
she runs away from the kingdom
(queendom?) she's supposed to be
ruling as soon as something goes
a bit wrong. Despite years of
solitude, she's never bothered to
try and harness her powers and
use them for good, until right at
27
the very end when she makes an
ice-rink for the town- well, that's
great Elsa, but I reckon you
probably could have thought of
this earlier instead of pissing off
onto a mountain and vowing to
stay there forever just because you
got a bit annoyed and accidentally
sparked an eternal winter. And
while we're on that, when she
learns from Anna that this is what
she's done, her first reaction isn't
“shit, that's a bit scary but I better
try and fix it, I am queen after
all”, it's to set a giant snowman on
her sister and her friends and
chase them out of her creepy ice
palace, potentially killing them
along the way. Yeah, very brave
Elsa, well done.
Well, I suppose we should move
on the business about the lack of
wedding. To be honest, I'm not
sure what film these internetdwelling, blogging, hashtagging
creatures had been watching
when they wrote this... I quite
clearly remember, if not a
complete wedding, something
pretty damn close. I'm talking
about the weird, non-consensual
bit with the trolls when Anna and
Kristoph are very nearly
accidentally married. I mean, how
28
creepy is that? Now you (I) mention
it, how creepy are the trolls in
general? I mean, obviously you
and I know that Anna is engaged
to some guy she shouldn't be and
that she's ultimately going to end
up with Kristoph, but all the trolls
have been told is that “she's
engaged to someone else”- for all
they know she could have known
her fiancé for years and they
could be happily planning their
much anticipated wedding, with
the support of their friends and
family. Imagine, for a moment,
that you went to the family home
of a male friend (you're female, in
this scenario), whose parents
immediately asked you why you
didn't fancy their son (they
probably wouldn't do the whole
song and dance about it- if this
ever happens to you and they do,
get out). You'd be fairly creeped
out to say the least, but if you told
them that you were engaged and
they still wouldn't drop it, and
insisted that their offspring was
more suited to you, and then tried
to marry you without your consent...
well. If that's not feminism I don't
know what is.
Lastly, let's just have a chat
about.the sisterly love thing.
Okay, sure, I must admit it
warmed my heart a little. And it
was much nicer than the whole
'true love's kiss will save the day'
shebang, and I can't really deny
that it may possibly show Disney
to be going in the right direction.
Well done you.
However, although they may now
be showing women who don't
necessarily need a man to save the
day, I don't think it's fair to call
Frozen a feminist film (which to
be fair, I'm pretty sure Disney
hasn't). It was nice to see a Disney
Princess film didn't end with a
wedding (I really thought they'd
done it with Tangled until that
silly epilogue bit, fools), but it did
end with a bit of (real, this time)
romance and a snog. Disney, it
seems, will never change.
P.S. I still love the film. I might
watch it now.
29
DARE TO PEP
ULIP’s resident football tactic hipsters,
George Willard and Neil Fulton, on Bayern
Munich’s Pep Guardiola’s unorthodox
tactics against Manchester United.
Many of you will have
undoubtedly watched on in
baffled confusion on the night of
Wednesday 9th April as Pep
Guardiola’s stated right and left
full-backs, Philipp Lahm and
David Alaba, appeared for much
of the game to be playing a boxto-box midfield role. You weren’t
alone; we also found this tactic
decision on Pep’s part to be
bizarre in the extreme. The
fluidity of Lahm and Alaba’s new
roles became similar to the
consistency of Flubber, especially
whenever the pair of them
exchanged passes on the left-hand
side of Manchester United’s
besieged penalty area in the first
half. It was at this stage that even
the commentators began to laugh
at the outlandishness of this Pep
twist on an already very offensive
formation, “the right back playing
a one-two with the left back by
the left corner flag, what is
happening here?”.
30
This raises the question though as
to why Guardiola chose to
employ the two finest full-backs
in the world as a centre midfield
pairing? And did it work?
The answer to the first is that in
such a game against United,
Guardiola recognised that Moyes
would set out with very limited
attacking intent and Moyes’ use of
false wingers meant that Lahm
and Alaba would have very little
wide defensive work to do and as
such this tactic allowed Bayern to
overload and thus dominate the
midfield and to create through the
passing and movement of Lahm,
Alaba, Toni Kroos & Mario
Götze.
In reality this tactic met with very
little success in the match and it
wasn’t until Rafinha came on to
play as an orthodox right back
and Lahm moved into the pivot
role in midfield (thus freeing up
Kroos) that Bayern really began
to play. The primary issue with
Lahm and Alaba’s positioning
when Bayern were on the ball was
that they were occupying the
positions that Franck Ribéry and
Arjen Robben wanted to cut into
“the Professor” by Zlatan, will
not stop innoventing1 systems and
even, as in this case, new
positions to keep us all on our
toes
from their advanced wide
positions and drive at the heart of
United’s defence. In addition to
this, David Alaba was not
galloping past Ribéry’s left
shoulder to deliver crosses into
the box and the same was true of
the right hand flank with Philipp
Lahm and Robben.
This formation has seemingly
been a regular occurrence in the
Bayern Munich set-up in the
Bundesliga this season, which has
puzzled many commentators as it
was fairly ineffective against
United. However, one thing we
can all be certain of is that fact
that Pep, once sneeringly labelled
1
Jack Donaghy, 30 Rock
31
IT WASN’T ME
You’ve heard it but were you really
listening? Calum Paramor investigates the
many layers to Shaggy’s ‘It Wasn’t Me’.
Shaggy’s hit song ‘It Wasn’t
Me’ (feat. Ricardo Ducent),
despite initial appearances, is
not so much a piece of pop as
the wisdom of the ages
distilled and condensed into 3
minutes and fifty seconds and
put to music.
You may think I overstate my
case, dear reader, but I beg to
differ. For those of you not
familiar with the work, it
consists of the fallout of
Ricardo Ducent’s girlfriend
discovering his, presumably
longstanding (judging by the
wide variety of places in which
they have shagged), illicit
affair.
Shaggy, the modern day
equivalent of the wise
mountain-dwelling hermit of
old, reclining in his villa-esque
abode, draped in a whole host
of women, suggests that
Ricardo, extricate himself
32
from said the tricky
consequences of said affair by
simply denying it, in the face
of all evidence to the contrary.
At the risk of sounding
grandiose, I find that such
such an idea is a challenge to
our entire conception of
history. Our understanding of
the past, after all, is filtered
through the gauze of human
perception and is, thus subject
to adulteration and
misrepresentation. To put it
more simply, how can we be
so sure of the past, particularly
since such emotive and
subjective things as right and
wrong play such a huge role,
when it is possible for Ricardo
to dispute his infidelity in spite
of his significant other walking
in on him and the girl next
door “[...]butt-naked, banging on
the bathroom floor[...]”?
Further to this, on a more
esoteric level, to deny
something which is so
flagrantly true has a touch of
the surreal about it, a Charge
of the Light Brigade style
refusal to accept the
worrisome confines of reality.
I think that such a desire is
deeply important in our
modern apathetic society,
plugged in as we are to
Facebook and app-heavy
smartphones. It's a challenge
to create, to move beyond the
limits we set ourselves and
move into some greater
unknown.
I don’t know who wrote this
article. It wasn’t me.
33
PARLONS
CROSSWORD
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
Down
1. Angry collection of letters. (9)
34
4. Beautiful, as if emitting light.
(7)
2. Sing in a way marked by
alternation between normal voice
and falsetto that is most readily
associated with shepherds in the
Alps (5)
5. Where a dog or cat’s parasites
go to get their knickknacks. (4,6)
3.
11. Song, particularly one of a
religious nature. (4)
ULIP’s only triplet. (5,8)
9. Fluent but insincere or shallow
(4)
Across
2. English county that has been a
clue in every issue’s crossword this
year. (9)
5.
Relentlessly partisan
Murdoch-run news network/animal
proverbial for its cunning. (3)
6. Earth, particularly in which
something might be grown. (4)
7. A flat space surrounded by
raised seating in which sporting or
musical events are held. (5)
8. Drily funny. (5)
10. One who watches/attractive
person. (6)
12. The site of the tea party which
began the American Revolution. (5)
13. Woollen item of clothing that
leaps. (6)
That’s all from the world of crosswords for this year! It’s been great fun
compiling them and I hope that you’ve enjoyed them. I’ll try and find a way
to get the solution online but feel free to drop me a Facebook message if
you want it before then.
Calum x
35
ENTRE GUILLEMETS
Thanks for all your quotes this year! There’ll be a new number
for next year’s team but, in the meantime, you can still send
your quotes to [email protected]
“I don't care if they're good in bed so long as they pay well.” Annie
Renn (BA2) on career prospects.
“I love degrading women!” Samuel Knight (BA2) upon slapping Elsa on
the bum.
“Just to put it out there, I'm not inbred. I wasn't born on the Isle of
Wight.” Charlotte Chopin defends her origins.
“I went on one of those lads on tour type of holidays but I booked on
to the Scandinavian one by mistake. It was really different, everyone
was Scandinavian for a start.” Amber Whiteread (BA3) just wants a
hedonistic youth, is that too much to ask?
“I think you look better as a potato.” Erica Burnham is unimpressed by
Calum Paramor's drawing skills.
“I need to pee; I think the urea is getting to my brain.” Stephanie Gales
(BA2), Brooklyn’s finest.
“The epiphany throne that's what I call it.” Benjamin Wright (BA3) on
the toilet.
“No-one bollocks me cause I'm pretty.” Calum Paramor (BA3)
“I just get weird neck grumbles.” Meg Davies (BA3) can’t burp.
“I went and saw the penis then it was definitely time to leave.” Angel
(BA2) Rose on visiting Raidd.
“Well, we're four sassy ladies here.” Elsa Hardman-Clark (BA2) gets
things straight with Stephanie Gales, Annie Renn and Rosie Scott.
“I'm not aggressive on purpose. (Sees a crying child) What the fuck is
she doing? Shut up.” Stephanie Gales (BA3) has a heart of gold, it used to
belong to someone who crossed her.
36
“Life's too short to worry about air bubbles.” Erica Burnham keeps
things in perspective whilst covering books.
"I used to do this thing where I'd pretend to be a chicken." Alice Long
(BA3) on bath time activities.
"You're not a dosser you're a tosser." Josh Hannon (BA2) deals out
harsh truths to Joe Thompson .
"I am basically John Travolta incarnate." Samuel Knight (BA2) has got
chilllllls, they’re multiplying.
"What skills would you need to bugger a fly?" Louise Lyle gets down to
the nuts and bolts of translation.
"Ain't no party like a communist party!" Joe Thompson (BA3) has a
sudden shift of allegiances. (Your mother and I have suspected it for some
time Joe, accept who you are and be happy.)
"I'm going to get my student number tattooed on my wrist when I
leave ULIP." Lauryn Pipe (BA3) has her own way to adjusting to finishing
her degree.
"I just don't like the ambiance in there." Rosie Gillard (BA3) on
shopping at Leader Price
“Her tock is clicking!” Katie O’Dowdall (BA3) on gets her letters
jumbled.
"I wanted to look hot for the prospective students but look at these
(points at lovebites)." Callum Fisher (BA1) kind of got the wrong idea
about the Journée de Rencontres.
37