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Editorial Board Editor-in-Chief Nina Watson Magazine Editor Harriet Groves

Editor’s Note Dear Reader,

elcome to the 2018-2019 issue of The Underpass. Our front cover sends up the recent story of Sesame Street feeling the need to put out a statement, following a writer’s claim that Bert and Ernie are gay, which declares the puppets are ‘just friends’ and have ‘no sexual orientation’. This farce created a Twitter storm where the pervading mood was one of disbelief that Sesame Street should feel compelled to write such a statement. The Twitterati’s call for greater understanding is echoed by us at Latymer where, as you will read in our LGBT+ focus, difference and inclusivity is actively promoted.

Arts Lily Kingdon-Dawkins and Allegra Della Ragione Commentary Charlotte Bouvier Features Scarlett Knowles and Poppy Bullock News Luc Mondon-Ballantyne Puzzles Simdi Okoroafor Science Maxime Seknadje and Clodagh Bottomley Front cover artwork Izzy Ben-Nathan Illustrator Selena Ridsdill Smith With thanks to Mr Andrew Copeman Please contact us should you wish to write for The Underpass: acc@latymer-upper.org

In this issue, you will also discover a range of interesting articles, from personal Latymerian stories to interviews with acclaimed writers and actors. There really is something for everyone! Read Thomas Angell’s fascinating reflection on living with a disability or Harriet Groves’ interview with actor Eddie Marsan to hear his views on equal opportunity for young people from all backgrounds. Lastly, I urge you to take our quiz and follow a path to a Latymer club that might pique your unexplored interest. I would like to thank all our contributors for their outstanding articles and commitment towards The Underpass. Finally, I am hugely grateful to Mr Copeman for his vision and tireless energy; without him, this magazine would not have been possible. Nina Watson

The Underpass Summer 2018

Coming Out: What’s the Big Deal? F

ar-right candidate, Jair Bolsonaro, was recently elected the new president of Brazil. Bolsonaro is proudly homophobic stating he would ‘rather his son die in a car accident than have him show up dating some guy’, while also declaring ‘Brazilian society doesn’t like homosexuals’. Fortunately Latymer is significantly 11/13/2018 Word Art more enlightened and do not tolerate such distasteful views. The following articles, written by staff and students, detail what it is like to ‘come out’. When this idea was conceived, we assumed the experiences of students coming out in cosmopolitan London in 2018 would be far happier than those of some of our teachers, who grew up in more remote or less enlightened parts of the country and at a time when many were less tolerant of difference. Although this has largely proved the case, these accounts reveal that society still has a way to go in showing more understanding and respect to those who identify as being LGBT. As a proudly liberal school, with a thriving Spectrum Society, impressive PSHCE programme and recent award for being ‘Pride Youth Network Pioneers’, we are certainly heading in the right direction as we continue to support and champion all students, regardless of their identity or sexuality.

The Underpass -LGBT- 2018 - 2019

A Never Ending Story Will Goldsmith, Assistant Head

hen I was 8, I was sent to an all-boys boarding school in Kent as my father’s job meant we moved country every 3 or 4 years. While the experience was a hard one initially, I gradually got used to being away from home and even enjoyed the small and caring environment I was in. I was encouraged to play the piano, to read for hours, to wander the grounds and was generally successful in my lessons. Towards the end of my time there, I began to form a particularly strong bond with one of my classmates and we’d sometimes hold hands briefly and I cared for him in a way that I didn’t for my other friends. Nothing else happened but it awoke an awareness of something in me that began to grow. However, when I went to my secondary school (another all boys’ boarding school) aged 13, I was thrust into a far more Darwinian male environment where we were made to feel vulnerable, both by our peers and the older boys. Sport was the ultimate expression of success in this new place and so those who were successful on the rugby pitch were supreme, almost god-like, by the time they got to the top year. For those of us who were thin and weedy, who liked music and books, it was made clear to us that our interests and passions were lesser. Not only that, but they were deemed ‘unmanly’ and ‘gay’. Thus, for the next three years, up to the end of my GCSE year, I was regularly bullied by my peers for being gay, even though I had not actually come out. It is hard to actually remember what form this abuse took - I know it was never physical (my house was considered a much more ‘enlightened’ and ‘tolerant’ one than many others where I think things like that might have happened). But, now that I come to think of it, I remember that it took the form of endless rounds of direct and indirect humiliation, where they would pick on my sensitivity and twist it against me, trapping me into catch 22 questions where I was ‘gay’ if I said yes or no. It felt impossible to escape these situations, especially as many of them happened after lights out in the dormitory. In the grand scheme of things, I got away with things lightly as I was able to spend a lot of time in the music school and the library, where the arts gave me solace and an escape into other worlds. I took comfort particularly in the writing of E. M. Forster, a former pupil at my school, who had hated it as much as me. I also did make friends and even picked on a couple of boys who were even more vulnerable than I (something I look back on with shame). However, I do often feel that, if I’d been in a day school or a mixed school or a more tolerant time, I would have come out around the time I went to secondary school. My coming out, for the time, was very early - I was 17. I remember talking it through with one of my friends with whom I used to sing (we are still in touch today) and, over a series of long talks, I got used to the idea and being able to talk about it with him. There was nothing romantic in our friendship - something that actually probably made it a lot easier and I am eternally grateful to him for being such a supportive friend. I remember then telling my closest friends and a couple of adults who I trusted, and suddenly things became much easier. It wasn’t a sudden blinding flash of light, more like a slow easing of tension and a gradual feeling of greater liberation. When I told my friends they were not surprised at all - it had been so obvious to everyone in my year. Even when I told the other boys in my year group, they left me alone, perhaps slightly shamefacedly as they perhaps remembered how much of a hard time they’d given me before. However, the idea that, once you’ve come out, then you no longer have to do it again is, unfortunately, an impossibility for someone whose sexuality does not fit what society deems to be ‘the norm’. I told my sister only after a couple more years and, because he died when I was 23, I never told my father as I was afraid of his conservative views. It was only when I had met my first long-term partner (who I went on to ‘marry’ - it was called ‘Civil Partnership’ in those days) did I tell my mother and, as I go through life, I regularly have to explain to people that I don’t fit what they presume when it comes to who I choose to love. So, I suppose you could say that my ‘coming out’ story still continues...

The Underpass -LGBT- 2018 - 2019

Ev Perrett, U6

Katie Lathan, Classics

oming out as trans has not been one moment, but over two years’ worth of explaining myself, correcting people and just walking through the world. I come out to pretty much every person I meet, and sometimes I forget that it was ever almost impossible to just express how I was feeling with regard to my gender identity. I first came out to a friend at a kids’ park in early summer of 2016. It went pretty well and it was more a search for some sort of answer than a moment of great self-expression. Then, by the time summer was over, I had come out to a close circle of friends, mostly at Latymer, and that also went well. They accepted me, and some even saw it as some great explanation for my behaviour over the years, that even although they were initially shocked, it made sense in a greater context. That summer I also lost one of my oldest friends as well. She had been my best friend throughout all of primary school and we said that we were going to be best friends forever, however that possible future could only be if I remained the person she had thought she knew. We’ve remained in contact since then, but every time I see her it’s kind of painful: she ‘dead names’ me (the act of calling a trans person by their birth name) and uses the wrong pronouns which’ although doesn’t seem like much, fundamentally boils down to her just not accepting that I do know myself. As year 11 went by I came out to more and more people, but the thought of telling my parents still lingered and terrified me, resulting in deteriorating mental health and various other issues that came with it. I took comfort in my friends, and eventually my mental health began to improve. By the time the beginning of Sixth Form came around, I was determined to come out of the closet at school. By that time most of my peers knew me as ‘Ev’ anyway, so on the first day of Lower Sixth I sent several group chat messages, mostly along the lines of ‘I’m a dude, please call me he/him pronouns’ and told my Head of Year. Lower Sixth was the first time I have ever enjoyed school and I do not recognise the kid anymore who wore heavy eyeliner and long red hair. Things are still hard, but I have learnt to cope a little better. In the future, I hope to see the whole gender binary thing smashed like an avocado but until then I live in the knowledge that things are getting better, and that fewer people will be put in my situation and can just come out, without fear and without a fight.

Durham, 2005 y first kiss was with a girl. We were “going out” in a very 13-year-old fashion: we held hands, occasionally kissed, and never actually “went out” anywhere. I went to an all girls school and early in Year 8, my best friend told me she was gay. I had known her since I was 5, so I had known for a long time, but I was happy that she felt comfortable enough to tell me outright. As puberty hit, a few of my friends and I admitted to each other that we liked girls. When our Head of Year found out about this, he started to interview girls in my year about their sexuality. Those who admitted they were gay or bisexual were told that they weren’t old enough to know their own sexuality, that their behaviour was unacceptable and that parents would be involved. I was terrified. My mum worked at school. My girlfriend and I broke up.

Durham, 2008 One of my friends came back from Reception, the part of school my mum worked in, laughing. I asked her what was so funny, and she said she had told my mum that in Year 8 I said I was bisexual and had briefly had a girlfriend. She said my mum didn’t believe her. She was still laughing. In the car on the way home, I was looking out of the window absentmindedly. Two girls happened to be walking across the road and my mum started shouting at me. She asked me what I was staring at and said it was rude to stare at people for so long. I said nothing. When we got home, we were talking about my best friend. My mum said that, although she had no problem with her being gay, she would be disappointed if I was. I said nothing. I never said anything about it ever again. London, 2017 A friend of mine, an LGBT+ activist, messaged me to ask whether I would take part in a panel of bisexual women for his podcast. I was shocked; I had never come out to him before. I said yes, but I felt like a fraud, like I wasn’t bi “enough”. I came home from work that night and cried to my boyfriend. Years and years of keeping it all in came out. He held me and he said he knew, that he was pretty sure all my close friends knew, and that it was okay. And I had never felt more free.

The Underpass -LGBT- 2018 - 2019

Fede Dal Brollo, Year 10

ne could say that my personal coming out experience was extremely lucky. And I would agree. I consider myself incredibly fortunate to live in a community such as Latymer and have a family such as my own which made coming out in 2017 way less scary than it might have been. But I was scared. Before I had the guts to tell anyone I spent a long time pondering on my sexuality, wanting to be sure before I jumped to any conclusions. And, although I did and still do have a very accepting family, when, after about two years of trying to figure out who I was, I finally rattled up the courage to tell my sister I was bisexual, I remember how hard it was to vocalise. And after that, as I checked off names from the list of people to tell, it was as if with each tick it became increasingly less difficult to say those words. As I recall, I did not encounter any homophobia. From what I remember, my experience was largely positive. I was told various times that I should be careful of who I told. And, at the time, I saw this as an attempt to shut away who I was. “Bury the gays.” In hindsight, I realise that this was only for my own good. The world is not always a pretty place and though we are in the 21st century, homophobia still does exist. I constantly wish this was so but unfortunately, my experience of coming out was not at all reflective of other queer young people. Compared to other situations, my process was very smooth, with minor bumps that are incomparable to the horrors that other LGBT+ people encounter. We assume these days, perhaps because we live in a widely diverse city such as London, that homophobia is a thing of the past. But it’s not. Homophobia will be a thing of the past when LGBT+ people cease to feel the need to come out, or have labels. Labels are for clothes, not humans, and they should be viewed as such.

Coming out in Bath in 1999 Dan Wright, Physics

hen I was at school no teachers or students were out. I grew up in a tiny village just outside Bath and went to a Catholic primary school. I didn’t know any family members or family friends that were gay, although I found out years later that Timothy was. Timothy lived next door and was great friends with my parents. He owned a linen shop in Bath and my parents regularly played bridge with him and his ‘friend’. All through my teenage years the only people that seemed to be gay were flamboyant famous singers: Freddie Mercury, Elton John and George Michael.

I suppose I thought I might be gay when I was in Year 7 or 8, and by Year 10 I was sure I was at least bisexual, but managed to convince myself I’d end up marrying a lady because I wanted children. At the beginning of Year 13 a boy in my year came out as gay. He was an actor, was very outgoing and called everyone ‘darling’ - a true thespian he was a performer. In a different way, I too was a performer, doing everything I could to disguise that aspect of myself; I studied Physics, Maths and Chemistry A-Levels, played rugby in the autumn term and did athletics in the spring and summer terms. I didn’t think any gay people were like me. Despite his openness and what seemed to be acceptance by our peers, I heard of senior staff at my school saying it would have been better if he had waited till he had left school as it wasn’t something the school wanted to deal with or know about. In Year 12, I played rugby for the 1st team. I was a winger and speedy so scored lots of tries. In Year 13, I chose not to play rugby for the school, which seemed to cause great controversy. This was partly because I wanted to focus on my athletics and partly because I found the machismo and homophobic environment intimidating. I was still not out to anyone. The Head of Rugby at school was very unhappy with my decision and ranted at me publically saying that ‘athletics was for poofs’. He persuaded my closest friends, still on the team, not to talk to me anymore. I threw myself into athletics and competed at the English Schools’ championships the following summer in 100m hurdles. I started university in 1997, still not out to anyone. In my halls of residence I only knew of one gay student that was out. He was very effeminate and I felt afraid that this is what I would have to become if I was to be gay. Towards the end of my first year I felt able to tell a friend and in my second year a girlfriend of his asked me if I’d like to go to a gay bar in the city with her. I did and I loved it! There was such a mixture of people;

The Underpass -LGBT- 2018 - 2019

men and women of all ages with all degrees of masculinity and femininity. On my third outing to the same gay bar in two weeks, I met a lovely law student who was also studying at my university, called David. We ended up being together for four and a half years. It was only after meeting David, that I felt confident going home to Bath and telling my old school friends that I had a boyfriend. I told my parents a year later at the end of university. When I did eventually come out to my school friends, none of them minded - although some didn’t really know how to handle it. Some were very surprised and others said they’d guessed a while ago. When I told my parents they took a bit of time to get used to the idea, perhaps a couple of months, until they began to feel more comfortable with it. I think feeling free to discover and discuss ideas around sexuality as a teenager is so important. As an adult I have moved away from the binary idea of gay or straight. I believe there is a continuum and that all people should feel free to sit wherever suits them on that continuum, to the point that ‘coming out’ ceases to be such a big deal. I always encourage my friends that have children not to just assume they are straight and to tell them once a year, from when they are young, that they don’t mind who they fall in love with. I think it’s wonderful that there are so many pupils and teachers that are out at Latymer and I hope it feels like a supportive environment for young people coming out in 2018.

Cultural Appropriation by Margaux Cooper, L6 Should we allow actors to play parts that potentially appropriate another culture or experience? (with particular reference to the representation of the transgender community)

he film industry once was, and largely still is a whitewashed illusion that claimed to cater for the entertainment of all. In an age of encouraged acceptance, it is only right that the industry is evolving and diversifying. The film industry is, however, still learning the nuances of inclusivity, as illustrated by the mistakes it continues to make regarding casting. To consider this issue, the definition of appropriation must be clear. It is a common misconception that the argument that criticises cultural appropriation involves barriers between cultures, this is untrue. To appropriate is to take on, or make something one’s own property. Appropriation implies taking something without permission, or with the assumed right to do so. Cultural appropriation is morally problematic, it is usually seen as unfair, ignorant and crucially, not attentive to the rights or needs of those with prior claims to the aspect of culture, or experience appropriated. Cultural or experiential (with regard to sexuality) appropriation is an issue discussing the line between intercultural progression or equality and stealing, not boundaries. Recently, Scarlett Johansson stepped down from playing a transgender role in the upcoming film ‘Rub and Tug’, stating that it was ‘insensitive’. This is appropriation as Johansson would be adopting a role which implies an experience she could not identify with, as she is straight. Many would argue that surely the nature of acting involves adopting a persona that one does not align with, that is the skill. While this may be true, that is not why this issue is problematic. Artists, actors and writers of non-heterosexual white identity have had to fight

to gain access to the predominantly white film industry. With reference to the Johansson example, transgender people have often felt marginalised by the stereotypical representations of their identities in film. In the wake of more balanced and nuanced transgender characters being written into scripts, it seems only logical that transgender actors get the opportunity to portray them. It is a question of authenticity as much as respecting the right to representation and equality. It is about giving young transgender people figures to look up to, who are equal in society and represented in film. Being represented is a comfort that many who are represented in pop and film culture take for granted. Criticism of cultural appropriation in film arises when it appears that white people, or those of a previously dominant and privileged group attempt use the images and experiences of those they used to discriminate against, or who were not previously integrated in the industry, for social or financial gain. For example to produce a film celebrating the transgender community, yet not cast any transgender people to act the roles. This issue has been discussed in the academic world; however, it is now come to light and gained momentum as a protest due to the voice given to many through social media. Hence, the backlash towards Emma Stone, a white actor, playing a part Asian role in ‘Aloha’ in 2015 was clearly heard. Cultural and experience appropriation in film has certainly been confronted by critics and pop culture. Progress is being made but I would like to conclude with an example to summarise. Jared Leto won an Oscar for his performance of a transgender woman in 2014. This sparked immediate backlash from the transgender community and wider, sentiments such as; “imagine the opportunity that could have been given to a transgender woman?” This is not to detract from his excellent performance or to deny he deserves his Oscar, simply to question if he should have been cast in the first place.

The Underpass -LGBT- 2018 - 2019

Deconstructing DNA: Exploring Identity

by Clodagh Bottomley, L6

e’ve all heard that we humans share 96% of our DNA with chimps, or that over 60% of our genome is identical to that of a banana. Humans, moreover, share over 99.9% of our DNA with each other. So, what, in that 0.1%, differentiates you from the stranger with bad breath sitting opposite you on the bus? Well, one answer lies in a group of genes that author Daniel Davis likes to call our ‘Compatibility Genes’. Of all our 25,000 genes, these vary the most from person to person; in essence, they are our molecular name-tags. They dictate a multitude of widely varied functions, primarily involving our immune system. Studies show they also affect our brains, our attractiveness to others, and theirs to us. They are found in the Major Histocompatibility Complex (MHC), known as the Human Leukocyte Antigen (HLA) system within humans. This section of our DNA codes for specific proteins present on all nucleated cells in the body. These molecules present peptide fragments that induce a destructive response from our specialised immune cells. For example, if a cell is invaded by a virus, fragments of that virus, the peptides, are brought to the cell surface, signalling to other immune cells that that cell must be destroyed. Our ‘Compatibility Genes’ are polymorphic, meaning they have many possible versions, or alleles. As each HLA molecule has a limited number of peptides it can present, different alleles protect from different illnesses. Therefore, the ‘Compatibility Genes’ you inherit predispose you to be more susceptible to some diseases and more resistant to others, helping to explain, for example, the disparity in time taken for patients to progress from HIV to AIDS. However, unlike the genes causing hereditary diseases such as Cystic Fibrosis or Huntington’s Disease, the impact of this predisposition is more marginal. One of their functions is to discriminate between ‘self’ and ‘non-self,’ to distinguish between pathogens that must be destroyed, and safe cells from our own body. First discovered in research

The Underpass -Science- 2018 - 2019

into transplantation of skin grafts, Nobel Laureate Peter Medawar showed that these genes govern the likelihood of a transplant being accepted or rejected by your immune system. As you would expect, if the donor is ‘HLA-similar’, the transplant will be accepted, as the new cells are recognised as ‘self.’ This discovery was a pivotal moment in medicine, solving a long-standing mystery regarding grafts and transplants, and helped save thousands of lives. Aside from their essential role in our immune system, the genes in the MHC have been shown to play a part in how animals choose their partners. To prove this hypothesis, Lewis Thomas and Jeanette Boyse conducted an experiment whereby they caged mice together and observed their mating choices. The results showed mate preference is influenced by ‘Compatibility Genes’. However, this begged another question: how are they detected? One much-researched potential answer was smell. Unfortunately, it is inherently difficult to obtain reliable, quantitative and objective data about smell. In 1994, Paul Wedekind embraced the challenge, designing what is now an infamous experiment. Wedekind instructed 44 males and 49 females to prime their sense of smell using nasal spray for 14 days and to read a novel by Patrick Suskind, called Perfume. Following this, the men were directed to wear the same t-shirts for two nights, and to abstain from any activities that might change their scent including sex, smoking or drinking. The women ranked the t-shirts’ odour on a scale of 0-10 for intensity, sexiness, and pleasantness. After analysing the results, Wedekind discovered that with the exception of intensity, the women’s scores corresponded with the ‘Compatibility Genes’ of the men and women, specifically that women found the smell of partners with different ‘Compatibility Genes’ more attractive. There are many possible explanations for this, however perhaps the most plausible is that in order to maintain variation in the HLA genes, we are encouraged to breed with those with dissimilar versions. This generates more diversity in the HLA molecules created, allowing us to overcome a greater variety of diseases, thus improving the overall survival of our species. So how do Wedekind’s results affect how we’ll find our match in the future? Already, websites such as “genepartner.com” invite users take a DNA test to have their HLA genes analysed and are matched with someone who apparently has ‘compatible’ genes. Soon, Photoshopped Tinder profile pictures and invented hobbies may be replaced by DNA-driven matchmaking. Clearly, this research is still at the forefront of scientific knowledge, and there is so much more yet to be understood, for example, in its application to the treatment of cancer. Tumours are somewhat unique in that they actively work against our immune defences by preventing these HLA molecules from fulfilling their function. Although the immune system is full of checks and balances to counteract this, it is one way tumours can get past our body’s rigorous defence systems. More research into this process could help find the next drug or procedure to help in the battle against cancer. Professor Davis concludes: “Overall, nobody has a better or worse set of compatibility genes: there’s no hierarchy in the system. The fact that we differ is what’s important; the way our species has evolved to survive disease requires us to be different.” What makes us unique? Well, according to Daniel Davis, it is our immune system.

The Underpass -Science- 2018 - 2019

Lebanon Remembered

by Charlotte Bouvier, Year 10

hink of Lebanon. Think of Syria. Sudan. Afghanistan. Somalia. Kurdistan. Eritrea. Iran. Iraq. Myanmar. What do you think of? Genocide? Oppression? Terrorism? Rape? War? Is it blood?

You wouldn’t be to blame, if you did, that is. Most people do. They forget about the beauty. Focus on Lebanon. Packed full of refugees and ready to burst onto the surrounding doctrines. Go back seven years, back to when danger was still pressing down on the population and you couldn’t drive for more than 30 minutes before seeing strengthening warfare, tanks because that’s what you remember. But it’s not a place of darkness. You go to a local restaurant. Your dad orders beans. You see the walls riddled with endless bullet holes like something a western artist would recreate and claim to be touched for; never having been there. Hear people laugh about it, be fascinated by it They want to learn. Accept it as part of their life and love it as such. See the hope in their faces when they say it’s all in the past. Go to Beirut. The Souk Al Ahad. People. Spices transformed into cones so perfect you just have to stop, stare, and end up buying far more than you’ll ever need. You still have some now. Fabrics and scarfs and you’re told you have Arabic eyes from the man who offers you a shawl made from the most gorgeous azure. Remember it for as long as you live. Remember it as people fighting to make a living and loving each other for doing it. Go to see your dad’s uncle. You did a project on him back in year two. Know him as the most generous, hilarious, most awesome person you’ve ever met. But one time he forgot what the Lebanese flag is. Let him teach you to play pool. Win. He let you win. Talk to your dad’s cousins. The twins who you still remember as talking. to you and making you feel like a big person. Watch the trailer for the third Narnia movie. Laugh when your sister is scared of the monster (pretend you aren’t scared too). Notice they all look different to you. A bit darker. Feel sad that you don’t look more like that. Take a train up a mountain, bask in the freezing rays of the sun so strong you burn in seconds. Lie in the snow. You could ski. You don’t. Watch children playing and play with them, because you’re one too. Go back down. Change from puffer jackets and waterproofs to shorts and sunglasses. Walk along the beach. Laugh in the sun. Get hit in the face with a basketball (kudos to your

The Underpass -Commentary- 2018 - 2019

sister). Feel like you belong in this place, here where your only connection is family and shared blood. Go see a movie. Let your eyes grow with fear as the two laned highway becomes four lanes because of only a modicum of traffic. Marvel at how impatience turns to recklessness and crossing the road is so impossible. No matter where you are. Take your father’s advice to travel between two groups of people when you do. Understand that it’s safer. Don’t understand why until a few years later. Look at the flag. There’s a tree. Ask about the tree. Drive. Two hours round and round and up and up. Complain the whole time. Piss off your parents. Now you’re back in the ice. Complain again. This time you’re cold and you can’t go directly up to the trees because it’s closed and you drove for so damn long. Not that you say that. You’re a kid. A hundred metres away there’s another market. This one is a bit different. Quieter. Stalls line the side of the road and oh look what a pretty necklace! Run up to see it. Turn away because it’s ten thousand pounds. Lebanese pounds. Don’t figure out that that’s only five quid. Drag your sister to a different stall. Small cedar trees carved out of cedar wood. they offer to engrave your names onto them. Get one each. Fast forward three years. Cry when your sister drops hers. It breaks. Smile when your mother superglues it back together (she’s a genius, you see). Keep them with you. Write this with them in front of you. Smile when you realise the fourth wall is shattering. Drive again. To Baalbek. There’s more military on the way. Lots and lots of tanks. Listen to your dad tell you about his forced military service when he was 15. Arrive. And you’ve never seen anything so… so indelible. Take the touristy pictures where it looks like you’re holding the temple up. Your eyes grow when you see the history, the sweat and religion and faith poured into here. Packed full of it, ready to burst onto the surrounding doctrines. Pure history. Feel honoured to be there. Now go back to the present day. Go see a play. And it is one of the most incredible things you’ve ever experienced in live theatre. Anywhere. Be touched. Cry a little. Feel like you don’t deserve to cry any more. Get a little annoyed at those who do. You feel fear. You think of family. Where are they? Lebanon. Syria. Sudan. Meet the Mayor of London. Interesting. You realise you don’t really care in the slightest. Realise he doesn’t affect you. Get a writing assignment from your English teacher. Feel like you don’t deserve to write about it. Think about seven years ago. Remember everything. Remember it as beautiful, as home, as hope, as blood. And maybe it’s naive. It’s definitely idealistic. But these countries deserve more than a legacy of violence and death. those things are everywhere. Here too, if you force yourself to look. At acid attacks and beatings on every corner. At girls afraid to walk alone. At so much more. There’s blood here too. the type of blood that connects people, brings them together. The blood of family. the type of blood that stains hands black. The blood of hatred. In our countries, in our homes, we allow our minds to realise one and ignore the other. Guess which.

The Underpass -Commentary- 2018 - 2019

A Conversation with Hanif Kureishi by Cara Fleming U6

itting opposite the man whose internal narrative and raw thoughts I had been trying to assimilate for the past weeks felt oddly exposing. I willed myself not to blurt out anything stupid about the power of his novels or the intensity of his writing, nonetheless it was hard to quell the urges of self-destruction l’appel du Vide. Hanif Kureishi (CBE, Oscar nominee, novelist, playwright and filmmaker) had assured me that, as the interviewer, I had the harder job. I believed him. The lunch before the talk had done little to assuage these fears over the clear disparity between our intellectual planes, despite the air of thoughtful nonchalance that Kureishi exuded. I thought back to the questions that I had spent the last week preparing. At the same time, Kureishi, obviously picking up on my subconscious fears, reflected that the best interviewers did not rely on notes, but went with the flow of conversation. Mon Dieu. “Writing’s not for pussies” The audience laughed, enthralled by Kureishi’s ability to switch between disarming humour and the severity of the issues that his novels discuss; ranging from racism, poverty, and homophobia to the dichotomy between cultural and societal expectations placed on young people. Kureishi began talking about the similarities between himself and Karim: the protagonist of his novel The Buddha of Subur-bia. Karim is a mixed race child growing up in the 70s - a time of significant intolerance and bigotry, as well as great cultural experimentation. Kureishi talked about these two juxtapositions, discussing his anger

over racial justice, whilst musing over one of his friends becoming a skinhead and the punk rock trend: wearing nappies and bin liners. “I’ve never felt afraid to write about anything that interests me” Creativity requires boldness. Although Kureishi professed a measure of cynicism, there was also a clari-ty in his authorial choices to write about more than the prevalence of injustice. He wryly commented that if he spent all of his time being angry about racism then he would not have the opportunity to write about comedic material and other experiences. He responded to my question about whether he felt a duty to write in order to share his own experiences, something which wasn’t available on a relatable level when he was growing up. Although he expressed his sense of fulfilment at broadening this platform of expression - opening up a discourse for prevalent issues - he said he’s never felt he had a duty to write anything. Instead, Kureishi writes about what interests him, insisting on the importance of being true to yourself, not being dictated to based on your background. Perhaps it’s this liberation that makes his work so compelling: his ability to write about raw emotion and his realism in discussing problems that permeate society. The social change that Kureishi discusses in his writing is important in the context of post-Brexit turbulence, as he clearly values his freedom to write on things that interest him, especially current societal divisions. “Rich people can buy culture but they can’t make it” London’s increasing affluence is cultivating potential problems for writers, as lots of good writing comes out of suffering and hardship. This was evident in

The Underpass -Arts- 2018 - 2019

how Kureishi discussed the ripeness of crea-tive disarray of the 1980s, producing a burst of new literature. However, Kureishi insists that there is still a lot of intense cultural experience, if you know where to look. This discussion of culture as fodder for inspiring writers gave rise to Kureishi’s discussion of the writers’ block he experienced in his twenties. Something that he retrospectively deemed to be more to do with his own depression and consequent ability to find good writing material. He stressed the importance of not being weighed down by this struggle and having a wider perspective of your own mental health. Furthermore, Kureishi explored the fluxes and continuity of writing as he acknowledged his ability to deliver what I deemed his ‘one-liners’, elegant and humorous constructs. Yet, refused to name his favourite one, stating that they would change in what he was currently writing and what he was going to write. Highlighting the immediacy of the art form that he finds constant pleasure in, regardless of his changing topic of focus. Kureishi moved on to discuss his comment “all art is exposure” and the vulnerability of the author, something he explores particularly in his novel Intimacy about the decision of a husband and father to leave his family over the course of 24 hours. Kureishi talked about confronting the intimacy of writing and the difficulty of drawing on personal experience whilst also seeing the power in his ability to doc-ument these experiences. He also expanded on the role of writers in collecting these different experi-ences and unashamedly told a story about his eagerness to copy down the entirety of a tale recently told to him by a friend. Referencing Graham Greene’s comment about writers needing to have an ‘ice chip’ in their heart he responded to observations of the raw emotion conveyed in his novels like The Buddha of Suburbia and My Beautiful Laundrette - championing the “beauty of truth and truth of beauty”. My Beautiful Laundrette - made into an acclaimed film, won awards in the NY Film Critics Circle as well as the National Society of Film Critics Award for Best Screenplay. It tells the story of a young Pakistani man who is given a run-down laundromat, he consequently faces abuse from racist punks whose leader he recognises as his former lover. The two men resume their relationship and resurrect the business despite opposition from other societal powers.

was becoming a less popular medium then that of virtual reality or film, he dwelled on the longevity of the process of writing plays or screenwriting. Commenting that it is not possible, as it is with a novel, to have the finality of writing and sending the work to be published. Instead, he has to stick with the script and go through the longer adaptation process, although it is clear to see that Kureishi reaps the benefits in the form of his Oscar nomination and success in the film industry. “I wouldn’t want to be you - growing up in society today” Kureishi discussed his own upbringing, the desire to be a writer manifesting itself early, reading 86 books in one year when he was 11. Additionally, he talked about being constantly surrounded by books due to his father’s profession as a writer - his father’s influence on him being powerfully discussed in his novel My Ear at his Heart. Comparing this exposure to the rise in visual arts today and the pressures put on kids growing up today. He concluded, on the topic of breaching a generational divide, that it was crucial not to dictate how young people should behave or feel based on archaic guidelines, and instead appreciate the flux of times and trends. My sheet of paper was folded in my lap. The interview felt like it had lasted two minutes and, as I was asked to pose a final question, I felt privileged to be able to steer the conversation. Kureishi’s genuine thought and unpretentious responses had gripped me in the same way as the eager audience. I dis-missed my previous thoughts of trepidation and listened happily to his response to my query about the advice he would give to his younger self. Which, far from changing any preconceptions about his future career, was to preserve the ignorance that made him believe in himself as a writer. He stressed the importance of this belief, coming from a background where he often felt creativity was stifled, and the naivety of the assumption that he could be successful as a writer for all of his life. It was this ambition, he concluded, that drove him to find success in this often volatile industry and it’s the same passion that continues to spur his writing today.

Kureishi candidly discusses the difficulties of screenwriting, having gained perspective from his own work, as well as that of his two sons who are screenwriters. Having agreed that reading

The Underpass -Arts- 2018 - 2019

What is life really like for disabled people in Britain? by Thomas Angell, Year 9

ife for disabled people is generally difficult but over the past few years things have become much easier for us. Using a wheelchair, I find more places are becoming accessible and, as a result, I am enjoying many more possibilities and opportunities. For starters, when I was younger there was very little choice of schools I could attend. Many of them had no lift and, of those that were accessible, few had easy journeys. Nevertheless, I still got on with it and rode the bus there and back every day, in spite of some avoidable difficulties. Half the time when a bus appeared it would be ‘too full’ and refuse to put the ramp down, while the other half of the time the driver would not know that wheelchairs have priority over buggies in the disability space. It seemed that many of the drivers could just not be bothered; they wanted to finish their stint as quick as possible and knew that accepting a wheelchair user would take up too much of their time. Occasionally there would be a driver that understood and enjoyed his job; he would let me on and move buggies away to make sure I had the correct space. Another problem with the journey was people asking needless questions. Whenever they saw me waiting at the bus stop they would come over and say things like “God Bless You” and ask me about my disability; if I actually knew you personally I might tell you. I could see they were trying to help, but think before you say something like that. Since then things have dramatically improved and I can ride the buses with ease, but occasionally a rude bus driver will still decides to be stubborn and annoying. When I finally reached school, things became easier, except for the mechanical machines that are designed to help me breaking down every few minutes. Lessons are easily accessible and changes between rooms never take much time. Most of the time the trouble comes when trying to get over to the Sports Hall. The lift is often on the wrong side and sometimes out of battery. However, in general terms, school life is great: I am involved in everything and rarely left out; on the rare occasion I am, it will only be because it is impossible for me to take part in that activity. It is easy for me to participate in sport, especially at break time, which I enjoy daily with my friends. It used to be a problem that many of the lunchtime playground sessions were on the South Playground and, with the lift taking a while, it meant I

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was being left behind. Thankfully this was soon changed by Mrs Sellars, who moved all of our slots to the North Playground. The one problem with Latymer accessibility is sometimes people can lose sense of their surroundings, especially when chatting with others. After school, things can occasionally be difficult as well. If I have to go shopping or eat in a restaurant, many have a step, which provides a challenge to negotiate. Usually one of my parents will have to bump me up the step, or otherwise we have to ask a member of staff or the public to help us up the step. This is especially annoying as many of the restaurants in Chiswick have at least one step; even some more modern restaurants struggle to cope with the needs of a disabled person. It is something very little but if every restaurant and shop could implement a ramp or remove a step then my life would be made so much easier. Generally, things are positive in my life though. If I ever have an issue or a problem there is always help available and not much can stop me from doing most of the things everyone else does. People are usually kind and friendly and are always willing to help - sometimes even too willing. The country is definitely making progress in their treatment of disabled people but when using public transport many issues still occur. Even if the bus driver wants to let you on, sometimes mothers with buggies refuse to move or fold their buggy and do not let you into the wheelchair space. Another problem is spacing. If you enter somewhere that is loud or busy, no one knows that you are there and I often struggle to get through crowded places. I sometimes find people have little spatial awareness, especially if they are talking to other people or friends. I believe some significant improvements are possible and that the country should make a big effort in development towards the treatment and accessibility of disabled users. Overall though things could be much worse and most of the time, despite encountering some problems, they do not affect me too much in my everyday life.

Hammersmith and Fulham Council by Scarlett Knowles, Year 10

he Hammersmith and Fulham youth council challenge outdated views in society and help change the modern community for the better. To have a loving, accepting and cherishing community is what we are aiming for and our manifesto helps us achieve our goals. This year our manifesto revolves around: Discrimination and Hate Crime, LGBTQ+, Curriculum for Life, Mental Health and Work Experience. Latymer are very proud of having the youth mayor, (Fede dal Brollo) as well as many other brilliant members of Latymer taking part in youth council and you can have the chance to get involved too. If you want your voice to be heard, then come along and see if it is what you would like to be a part of. We have a few events coming up soon so if you would like to get involved this would be a great time to do so. The first ever achievement awards will be happening around next February, which is a celebration of the incredible work many young adults have achieved. Youth takeover day is happening in November, which is a chance to take part in jobs you might want to have in the future. The Youth Council discusses local matters of importance and raises awareness of topics that we would like to improve about our society. We work together with the Hammersmith & Fulham Council to achieve these aims and would love you to get involved. Hammersmith Fulham Council is on once every two weeks on Tuesdays at 5:30pm to 6:30pm, so if you would like to be part of it or have any questions, please email me at: s.knowles15@latymer-upper.org.

The Underpass -Commentary- 2018 - 2019

A Visit to by Bronwen Pailthorpe, Year 10

Trump’s America

lected in November 2016, Trump has now been in power for just under two years. This summer, I visited an America controlled by him, not quite sure what to expect - the stories, spread in the media of an America turned overwhelmingly racist, sexist and hopeless under Trump, contrasted wildly with the America I knew from my frequent visits in my childhood. I was used to classrooms full of laughter, not gunfire.

Having grown up visiting my family’s hometown in Minnesota, it was a relief to arrive and find that much was the same as when I left it: winding suburban streets were still paved with poems written by its residents; coffee shops still hid on the outskirts of town and children still skidded down the roads in packs on their bicycles. Minnesota is traditionally democratic, with the last overall vote for the Republican Party being almost 50 years ago in 1972. It is also home to thriving cities such as Minneapolis and Saint Paul: hubs of activity which feel as if they are connected to much of the wider world and are constantly shifting, changing to suit their ever-moving stream of residents and commuters. Standing in the busy streets or on the crowded subways, it was difficult to imagine what people were describing when they stated that people voted for Trump as a ‘cry for change’ or because they felt ‘disconnected’. Indiana was next on our list. A stark contrast with the bustling streets of Minneapolis, Indiana sprawls out over 94,000 km, comprised of suburban neighbourhoods and Target after Target after

Chuck-e-cheese. Visiting, you cannot shake the feeling that things have been the same in these small villages for decades, with the local Dairy Queen being the most exciting part of the town. Southern and republican - a Trump cocktail. There have been 58 general elections, and Indiana has only voted for the Democrats twice, showing a long history of leaning right-wing. It makes perfect sense, therefore, that they would vote for Trump. However, the interesting question we need to be asking is: why? What is it about the disconnect of states such as Indiana that makes them crave change, and what is it about Trump that attracts them? A quick look at CNN’s voter polls provides some interesting answers. The section on education levels and their voting jumps out in particular, showing that people with a higher level of education, especially College Graduates and higher, voted overwhelmingly for the Democrats. Aside from showing the education level that Trump obviously targeted with his campaign, this provides some interesting insight as to the link between the states, their education levels and who they voted for, with the states with a lower average level of education voting for Trump. We can see a clear example of this in West Virginia, which ranks lowest on the national education attainment rankings, and voted with 67% to Trump. This raises the question: why does Trump hold such draw for people of lower education? This is where the link between state locations, education levels and voting becomes relevant. Research has shown that higher educated people are more likely

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to live near cities and in busier areas of the states, feeling more connected and having access to more opportunities, cultures and viewpoints. I witnessed this first-hand walking down the roads in Indiana you could go days before seeing someone of non-white ethnicity. In Minneapolis, cultures collide on street corners. Having had this experience of visiting Trumpâ€™s America, I think I understand why states such as Texas and Indiana voted for a candidate who did not himself believe he could win a presidential race when he started it, and who has been proved to hold outspoken views and perform illegal actions time and time again. Isolated in tiny suburban communities, people can easily lose touch with the wider world and the qualities which connect all of us- diversities in culture and constant change. This can slip into a feeling of loss of control as the world revolutionises in fast moving cities, leaving the outreaches of states such as Indiana behind. Trump promises to gain this control back, focusing on election plans such as the infamous wall, which appeal to people threatened by the globalisation that immigrants represent. This can be compared to the Brexit vote in Britain, which was eventually decided by the older population, many of whom voted this way because they believed it would revert Britain back to the time they remembered and felt comfortable with. So how do we tackle this epidemic, and prevent people from being afraid of the change that shapes the world? There is no quick fix. First, we need to support communities with lower education averages to help all of their citizens get a proper education and gain the same opportunities as others. Second, we need to teach people that it is in fact these rapid industrialisations, technological advances and social revolutions that keep the world spinning round. And theyâ€™re not something to be afraid of.

In Praise of the Pub by Amaana Meeran, Year 8 Tasked with making an unglamorous place sound appealing, Amaana effectively spins a positive with this unlikely setting for a 13-year-old.

find, contrary to most people, if I feel a little lonely or mournful, the best place to go is the pub during a match. Whilst I have no regard for football as a sport, the pub never fails in making me happy. The sheer liveliness of it is astounding, and there really is no sense of quiet. Upon thought, pubs are simply a wonderful place of people connecting and coming together. The friendly atmosphere appeals to everyone, drunk or sober. Where people from every walk of life come together and share experiences through their love of sport. Another great aspect of the pub is that there is no hierarchy. Nobody expects anything of you, and you are free to be yourself. This freedom is rare and precious, especially in todayâ€™s life. What you experience is a comforting sense of unity and support with people you have never even met before; they will not judge you for who you are. The pub atmosphere engages every sense: the feeling of utter anticipation, sometimes even literally feeling sprays of alcohol and saliva on your arm; the exhilarating feeling of energy when the crowds erupt with cheers; the rush of adrenaline and belonging when you stand with your football family. Your family.

The Underpass -Commentary- 2018 - 2019

No-deal Brexit?

by John Ellison, L6

How did we get in this situation?

ne of the reasons why we have this problem is the unprepared nature of David Cameron’s Brexit strategy, or rather because he simply didn’t have one. Small wonder he resigned. Cameron promised a referendum as a means to entice potential UKIP voters so as to win the 2015 election, but was so sure of a remain majority that he did not even plan for the eventuality of a Leave win. In comes Theresa May, a centrist in Brexit terms, landed with a job no one wants: negotiating Brexit. The negotiations are making some original Leave voters now realize the fact that the EU has less to lose than the UK was deliberately dodged. What is the likelihood of a no-deal Brexit? While both the European Union and Britain want a deal for Brexit, barriers over key issues such as the Northern Ireland border currently prevent this. And in Parliament too, Jeremy Corbyn, the leader of the opposition, will vote down anything Theresa May could get through her own party. And here the critical challenge to reaching a deal lies - within the Conservative party, where the clash in views has been too bitter for a compromise solution which could be put to Parliament, let alone the EU. Theresa May has resorted to her Chequers proposal. But while collective responsibility has mostly kept Cabinet dissidents in line, some highprofile Brexiteers have made their discontent known by resigning. Many Tory “Leavers” are worried that the Brexit ideal they voted for – a carefully negotiated divorce – does not look attainable. While it is certainly true that Labour is also riven by Brexit, 8 long years out of power has consolidated the unruly Labour MPs. But traditional centrist Labour MPs support EU membership – it enables solidarity with socialists elsewhere and could give access to structures and solutions which we lack in the UK – such as workers co-determination, originally a German model. The hard left (i.e. Corbyn) is more suspicious, precisely because the EU forces compromise and fosters liberalism and free trade. What would the consequences be? Theresa May has already implicitly sacrificed the services industry on her altar of Brexit. Free trade in services won’t happen – in fairness it was always unacceptable in Brussels, partly because Macron aims to reap the benefits for Paris. But what about goods? Free trade needs to be frictionless if the Irish border is to remain permeable. It is crucial for car companies: just-in-time part imports from Europe cannot be delayed at Dover if Nissan’s UK operations are to remain commercially viable. Aggressive Europeans may believe they thrive if Nissan’s car production moves to the newly-shrunken EU. But no one wins a trade war of this sort: EU part manufacturers would suffer during a painful geographic transition. Imports of other products – insulin for Britain’s diabetics, which include Theresa May - would also be hit by friction in trade. Acclaimed co-author of How to Lose a Referendum, Paul Goldsmith, said, “it will not be companies like Starbucks affected the worst by a no-deal Brexit, but organisations like the NHS which Britain relies on.” Leavers want fewer immigrants. But it is hard to see where the NHS, Starbucks or fruitfarmers (many of them Brexiteers, like the Nissan car-workers) will find new staff as all have been heavily reliant on immigration in the past. In summary Headlines come and go, and we will never know what it will be like till we actually leave. But many will probably be disappointed, and populist Brexiteers will come looking for scapegoats either because the deal is not hard enough or alternatively they misunderstood what Brexit was going to mean and will call to rejoin. Mind your back Mrs May!

The Underpass -Commentary- 2018 - 2019

Absent Kings Unveiled

by James Caute, U6

eing in a band holds value, not just within the realm of music; it is beneficial in a wider sense to the development of one’s creative process. You learn to produce, foster and perfect an idea, becoming collectively dedicated to achieving a specific sound and goal. With this however, comes considerable frustration and setback. Having played the guitar in Absent Kings with my friends Seth, Harry, Josh and Ines for around 3 years now, I have become acquainted with both the challenges and merits that one faces as a member of a band. A reality that one encounters both as a band member and as musician more generally, is that writing music is fundamentally challenging. As a band, we often dedicate the entirety of a practice session to solely forming and collating ideas, with little joy. What one quickly comes to realise is that creativity is often born out of spontaneity, or more plainly, not trying too hard. In an interview, John Lennon once explained he’d “...spent five hours...trying to write a song that was meaningful and good, and... finally gave up and lay down. Then, “Nowhere Man” came, words and music, the whole damn thing...”. Lennon achieved his desired sound not through exhaustive conceptualisation, but by simply allowing it to conceive and structure itself. Once a member of the band has a preliminary chord progression or melody, we come together to further build upon this idea; this communal contribution transforms a basic arrangement of notes into the foundations of a working song. Whilst there is a potential for ideas to get lost in translation between musicians, in our band, every member has a rudimentary gauge of the inner workings of a guitar, bass, drums and piano. Therefore, as means of better

communicating musically, such an understanding of the fundamental processes that construct a song, are key. Whilst in theory, a band should ideally be a creative forum of exchange in this way, this can become difficult when one has a distinct objective or sound in mind. Therefore, you must be willing to be flexible, and ultimately compromise. Performing live in a band is extremely rewarding. A song that you wrote in your mate’s bedroom becomes a universal experience you can share with an audience. There are of course the initial fears and anxieties that come with performing in front of crowds; the only way to rid of this is through practice. You must appear synchronised and refined during your performance, whilst seeming relaxed and fluent. During Band Night 2018, we were met with considerable challenge. Not only had we found out that Mr Haines’ band were now performing Don’t Look Back in Anger, a song which we’d already thoroughly rehearsed, but that we now had to learn and rehearse a completely new song, just hours before the event was due to start. We thought bangers, and subsequently the growing consensus quickly became Hey Jude. I was assigned to re-create the rich and timeless piano which opens the song, and through practice at lunchtime and after school, our performance went off without a hitch. It is memorable experiences like these and many others which allow me to appreciate the value of being in a band. From simply practising guitar in your room to playing live with your friends in front of a hundred people, music provides us with an artistic outlet and develops our creative methodology.

The Underpass -Commentary- 2018 - 2019

The Skateboarding Renaissance by Luc Mondon-Ballantyne, Year 11

t cannot have escaped anyone’s mind that skateboarding has undergone a huge rebirth in the past ten or so years. From its beginnings in California in the early 1950s through a hibernation in the 1990s and early noughties. Skateboarding has re-emerged as a primary influence on street fashion, social inclusion and its entrance into the Tokyo 2020 Olympic Games.

My early interest in skateboarding from the age of 8 was likely inspired by the USA, long haired, laid back surfboarder style, but it was forever a frustration that the board was almost as tall as me. A surfing experience on the Atlantic north coast of Ireland inspired me further to pick up a board and go. I was interested in the origins of skateboarding and learnt that skateboarding was first known as ‘sidewalk surfing’. The surfers in California wanted something to do when the waves were flat and still needed to get their adrenaline to be fulfilled. A new wave of surfing on the sidewalk swarmed the streets. Furthermore, in the late 1950’s Los Angeles went through a drought: peoples’ pools where drained for water and the rich people went on holiday so they could enjoy a summer with water. Little did they know they would come back to swarms of young skateboarders and their girlfriend’s, skating in their drained pools (now more commonly known as bowl or vert skating) and partying in their back gardens; this is the summer that skateboarding was properly born. The skateboarding hub for a west Londoner is BaySixty6, where I have spent many an hour crafting new tricks, and throwing myself down stairs, splatting sorely on the concrete floor not quite managing to hack the trick. I have been defeated numerous times, and the only way ahead was to get back on the board and try it again. I have been fortunate enough over the last two summers to visit Skate Agora in Badalona, Barcelona and be able to offer the following comparisons of London BaySixty6 with Skate Agora.

The Underpass -Commentary- 2018 - 2019

Overview BaySixty6, London

Skate Agora, Barcelona

Location: • BaySixty6, Westbourne Park, London W10 Skate park layout: • Underneath the A40 flyover beside the Hammersmith and City line. • over 50 square meters • Bowl • Half pipe • Multiple quarter pipes • Manual pads • Hubba • Down rails • Multiple stair sets • Grass gap • Wall ride

Layout: • Open air • 75 square meters approximately • No bowl • Multiple quarter pipes • No half pipe • Multiple stair sets • Hand rails • Hubba • Ledges • Grass gap • Roll ins • Palm trees

Facilities: • Skate shop • Flood lights • Refreshments • Seating area • Entrance fee - £12 for 4 hours with supervised staff on duty • Training and Events: • Skate camps • Skate nights • Competitions • After school clubs • Skate academy Ownership: • Non profit organisation • Registered charity • Sponsored by: -Nike SB -BaySixty6 charity

Location: • Badalona 3km from Barcelona centre • Next to the sea by Barcelona over ground train system

Facilities: • Skate shop • Skate academy • Skate camps • Flood lit • Barbecue and cooked food area • Club house • Accessible parking • Supervised staff on duty • Entrance fee – free Training and Events: • Street league • Video and film location • Street art events • Private competitions • Barcelona summer beach and music festival Ownership: • Lateral Thinking (private company) • Sponsored by: - Nike SB - SEAT - Montana Colours (Graphitti company) - Adjutamen de Badalona (Badalona Town Council) - California Skateparks

London vs. Barcelona? Both venues make excellent use of once redundant urban space. The under A40 location of BaySixty6 is dark and unattractive but us London skateboarders are ever grateful for its existence. Skate Agora is in a semi industrial suburb outside Barcelona, but has the benefit of a big blue sky and the beautiful Badalona beach across the train track. The free admission to skate Agora’s excellent facilities make this supremely attractive to a cash poor student. A weeks skating here costs £0, and a week’s skating at BaySixty6 could cost £50! Skate Agora is clean and maintained to a very high standard. I would suggest that these differences are based on the funding of the organisation of Skate Agora as a private organisation sponsored by Nike SB, SEAT and Lateral thinking. Lateral thinking is an advertising agency and events management company which uses the skate park for skateboarding, shoots and events. BaySixty6 is a not for profit charitable organisation likely constrained by a lack of funds. I hate to be disloyal and will forever be grateful for the existence of Bay66 on my London doorstep. But in honesty, my preference is to skate beside the cobalt blue Mediterranean, and big blue sky in a well maintained skate park. There is space to relax, eat, drink and watch while you are taking a break; perhaps this reverts me back to the California dreaming of my youth. Despite all of this, it is reassuring to note that in both locations the skateboarding code is the same high standard and there is still lots of respect for each other no matter where you’re from. This is what makes skateboarding a mutually respecting sport for all its competitors and such an appealing sport for youngsters like myself… May the renaissance continue!

The Underpass -Commentary- 2018 - 2019

The Eradication of Smallpox by Andrew Copeman

oogle the name ‘Jenner’ and you will immediately face countless articles and links to those of the reality television personalities: Caitlyn (formerly Bruce), Kylie and Kendall. In a sad reflection of our time, you must go to the third page of this search to encounter the name Edward Jenner, the originator of the smallpox vaccine. Jenner is often called ‘the father of immunology’, and his work is said to have ‘saved more lives than the work of any other human.’ I do not dispute this statement but argue that such success would not have been possible without the subsequent research of my great-grandfather, Sydney Arthur Monckton Copeman. While Jenner is rightly credited with discovering the vaccine for smallpox, his method was unsafe until Copeman developed the vaccine. Indeed, Copeman’s pioneering work on vaccination was described by J.A. Dudgeon (1962) as, ‘one of the greatest contributions to preventative medicine, and equal in measure to Jenner’s own observations’.

blindness. This awful disease can be traced as far back to Pharaoh Ramses V, who died in 1145 BC, and whose mummified body shows traces of a pustular rash.

Smallpox was a very serious contagious disease caused by the variola virus. It takes its name from the pusfilled blisters (or pocks) that form during the illness. Symptoms include a rash showing up as blisters on the skin that fill with fluid and crust over, headache, high fever, severe back pain, abdominal pain and vomiting. Smallpox ravaged the world, indiscriminately killing an estimated 400,000 Europeans a year, including five reigning monarchs, and was responsible for a third of all

This horrifying experience as a child assuredly inspired Jenner with the desire to prevent smallpox by some more humane method.

As you might imagine, there was a great determination to combat this devastating disease and various treatments were trialled, including this method of inoculation on Jenner himself: ‘He was a fine, ruddy boy, and at eight years of age, was, with many others, put under a preparatory process for inoculation with the smallpox. This preparation lasted six weeks. He was bled to ascertain whether the blood was fine; he was purged repeatedly, till he became emaciated and feeble; was kept on a very low diet ... and dosed with a diet-drink to sweeten the blood. After this barbarism of human veterinary practice, he was removed to one of the usual inoculation stables and haltered up with others in a terrible state of disease.’

Training as a medical student in Gloucestershire, Jenner encountered a milkmaid who declared ‘I cannot take smallpox, for I have had cowpox’. This belief was widespread among the farming community but dismissed as folklore by others. Jenner decided to experiment and such an

The Underpass -Commentary- 2018 - 2019

method of vaccination - from the calf’s belly to the patient or as lymph and exudate dried onto ivory points creating a scab crammed with unwanted micro-organisms – still posed considerable risk to patients’ health and often proved unsuccessful. Copeman, a medical scientist, began his great research by investigating why a large proportion of calf lymph failed to take. In the Milroy lectures at the Royal College of Physicians he detailed the methods he had devised to raise the pure vaccine: ‘I at length found [success] in the addition to the lymph, or rather to the vesicular pulp, obtained from a vaccinated calf, of a sterilized 50 per cent solution of glycerine in distilled water.’ Through the use of glycerine, the long-term effectiveness and reliability of the virus in the vaccine was preserved, and the dangers of passing on bacterial infection were abolished. Copeman’s improved methods allowed the vaccine to be stored for a long period in glass vials and transported round the world. The manufacture of the vaccine, the glycerinated lymph, was now simple and cheap. Copeman thus transformed vaccination against smallpox into a sure and safe operation. His methods of vaccine production continued to be employed until smallpox was abolished from the globe in 1977. The magnitude of this discovery can be gauged from the fact that smallpox is the only disease that has been expunged from the world by anyone: an astonishing contribution to human happiness and one that has saved many millions of lives a year, and many millions more every year from lifelong scarring disfigurement of their faces. Dr Monckton Copeman mounted on a calf, in one hand a phial of glycerinated calf lymph and in the other his 4-month old son - W.S.C Copeman – newly vaccinated.

opportunity came when Sarah Nelmes, a milkmaid, showed him her hand infected with cowpox. A healthy boy of eight years, James Phipps, was then vaccinated in two places by Jenner with lymph from one of the vesicles on Sarah’s hand on 14 May 1796; a red-letter day in the history of preventive medicine. It transpired that cowpox is a poxvirus in the same family as variola and, consequently, Jenner’s procedure proved successful. Before long, the practice of vaccination (Jenner called his method ‘vaccine’, from the root word vacca, which is Latin for cow) grew rapidly, particularly given the ineffectiveness of previous treatment. Jenner’s discovery was vital to eliminating smallpox but his procedure was unsafe and smallpox continued to wreak havoc: 80% of children infected by the disease died and in the 20th Century alone more than 500 million people are thought to have been killed by smallpox. Arm-to-arm vaccination was not just ineffectual but also dangerous, leading to the transmitting of other diseases, chiefly erysipelas, tuberculosis and syphilis, along with vaccinia. Jenner’s preferred

I am unable to emulate such greatness in the field of science, but we can all aspire to match the description in his obituary that ‘he was of generous and kindly disposition, ever ready to help younger colleagues….well read, a man of wide culture and a delightful companion’. It is fitting that in 1996, on the 200th anniversary of Edward Jenner’s discovery of vaccination against smallpox, an English Heritage blue plaque was unveiled by my father, also an esteemed physician, outside Copeman’s house in Chelsea - these great and good men rest from their labours but their works do follow them and adorn British medicine. Is there someone in your family who has a blue plaque in their honour? If so, we would love to hear from you. Please contact us at: acc@latymer-upper.org

The Underpass -Commentary- 2018 - 2019

Why are we the only surviving human race? by Jade Jacomb, L6

envision the potential of our inventions in the real world that has enabled us to not only survive but thrive.

But the question remains: why did we manage to survive when all of our closest relatives have died out?

We have a unique trait to think beyond things -- for example, tools were made not just for the present, but also made to be used in the future. This part of our brain allows us to think about scenarios. It’s a crucial part of our thought process because it allowed us to build sophisticated tools to fight off competing Humanins. The Neanderthal’s tools were remarkably efficient for the tasks they used them for, but archaeological evidence suggests that we had a wider range of innovative and deadly tools. Thus, our active minds yet again win us dominance.

ur own species appeared around 200,000 years ago, at a time when several others existed. Yet today, only we remain. Humans lived amongst other Humanins — human-like creatures — such as the Neanderthals, Homo habilis, Homo erectus, and Australopithecus africanus.

It was initially theorised that our larger brain sizes were responsible for our superior lifespan, but evidence has shown we all had a similarly-sized brain. This leaves us curious as to why us. What makes us different from the slight variant species that did not evolve? Granted, extinction is a natural part of evolution, but why are we the ones that are not extinct? While the Neanderthals may have had a similar brain size to ours, it may have been the way our brains developed over our lifetimes that was key to our success. Humans have a unique skill to communicate and tell stories. It is the storytelling ability which allows us to build our communities across all religions and bring humans together. The creative side of our brain that has allowed us to pass information in an effective and larger-thanlife fashion has allowed humans to build, using the powerful force of stories to foster a sense of home and community. As our numbers swelled, we began to live in much more complex social units and required more sophisticated ways to communicate — we might have our creativity to thank for our survival. But it as our innate ability to think critically and

Tools were not the only things humans made. We also created something which helped us outrun every other species on Earth: symbolic art. Shortly after humans left Africa, we were making art. Archaeologists have found ornaments, jewellery, figurative depictions of mythical animals and even musical instruments. Symbols were deemed as social glue. Through creativity, our stories were passed down through generations, and thus the answer to why we survived flows through all sorts of methods — every new idea we pick up has the chance to become immortal. I think Descartes, the French philosopher, describes most accurately what it means to be human by the phrase “I think, therefore I am”. He viewed other animals like machines: they moved, they ate, they lived, and they died. But humans think, and he equated that to being like a soul. We were the only species with a soul. From language, culture, war to love, our most distinctive behaviours all have a social and creative element, and perhaps this is why we are here today.

The Underpass -Commentary- 2018 - 2019

Don’t put my boy in a box by Freston Wolverstone

would like to say something about the video that Lewis Hamilton posted on Christmas Day to his millions of followers on Twitter. His nephew has asked for a Princess dress for Christmas and Lewis films himself asking his nephew why he is wearing a dress and why he asked for one when he is a boy. The truth is that these conversations go on all over the country still. I don’t blame Lewis Hamilton for repeating what he has probably been conditioned to think and say. The problem is that given he decided to record and publish this conversation I wish he could consider his influence on others, and the way it can affect people like my son Jamie. Up to the age of five, Jamie dressed up a lot in Princess dresses. He loved the colours and the way they swooshed when he twirled around, and we were happy that made him happy. Yet he would get constant comments from others about it and eventually he decided he was embarrassed to put on dresses, so he stopped. What hasn’t stopped is his love of colourful toys, particularly Barbies and other dolls. He wants to be a fashion designer for Barbies and every birthday and every Christmas he wants Barbie this or Barbie that. Give him an Argos or Smiths catalogue and he searches first for the Barbie page. Need a ‘bribe’ to get him to do something he doesn’t want to do and a new Barbie or even simply a new set of Barbie shoes will suffice. He is almost eight now and his favourite Christmas present was a Barbie caravan. Now, because I grew up in a different world, this has taken some getting used to. Jamie doesn’t like sports, or ‘bashy’ games or fighting. But I don’t care, because it means from a very young age we could take him anywhere (e.g. one of his older sisters’ friends birthday party), and as long as there were Barbies and clothes he would sit still and quietly for hours playing with them. Every report from school mentions that he is kind, sensitive, gentle and caring, which is lovely, given I don’t think I was any of those at his age. His love and interest of clothes make him my wife’s favourite fashion adviser, too. One of the most special times of last summer was when we spent a whole afternoon dressing up all his Barbies and Kens and action men (who were naked as combat gear is apparently inappropriate for a wedding) and did a proper wedding for one of his Barbies with Ken. There was music and dancing and even a Rabbi. I remember looking at him whilst

we were doing this and praying that he never feels afraid to just be himself. So why am I writing this? Well, society still makes Jamie feel like he is weird, and almost wrong to like what he likes. He makes friends wherever he goes but doesn’t want to invite them over for a playdate because ‘I don’t want them to find out I like Barbies’. It doesn’t matter how many times we tell him that it shouldn’t matter to friends what he likes, he has learned from others - who in turn have learned from others - who in turn have learned from people like Lewis Hamilton publishing videos of what he published on Christmas Day, that boys must like one thing and dress one way and act one way and any deviation from the gender roles they are given at birth is to be scoffed at. All the way through school he has had more girl friends than boy friends because of all this, (although sometimes girls excluded him as he was a boy and the boys wanted to play football so he ended up playing on his own), but he is nearing the age where girls and boys still drift apart for a few years and we are worried about him feeling lonely and excluded when he has so much to give any friendship. So, at Jamie’s bidding, we put all his Barbie stuff downstairs, so he can say they are his sister’s if asked by people he can’t trust to be kind to him about it. He chooses some ‘boys toys’ to keep just in case he has people over who just want to do ‘boys’ things. He doesn’t like them or enjoy them but he has learned at eight years old that this is what he has to do. I realise that Lewis Hamilton’s PR people were forced to write a ‘heartfelt’ apology for him, but I know that what we saw in that video is what he, and many others think. So, does my son have to be put in a box? Does he have to be told what to play with and what to like? I hope not, but I think that society is not yet ready for him and not ready to nurture him, and it makes me sad because he just deserves better. I hope what happened to Lewis Hamilton starts a proper conversation about all this. I don’t want people silenced, I would like us to have a proper debate and education of those who are struggling to support children like Jamie. I wish there was a hashtag like #dontputmyboyinabox or #dontputmygirlinabox or some kind of campaign to stop this constant insistence that they like different things or dress in certain ways. I am not, by the way, talking about gender fluidity or sexuality- Jamie knows he is a boy and when he talks about love and marriage he talks about girls only. I do note that people assume things about him when they find out what he likes to do. A boy like him shouldn’t be scared to invite other boys over, shouldn’t be lonely and should never change. We love him just the way he is.

The Underpass -Commentary- 2018 - 2019

An Interview with Eddie Marsan by Harriet Groves, U6 Eddie’s reference to Idris Elba who argues “talent is everywhere; opportunity isn’t” opened our eyes, as Latymerians, to our plethora of opportunities and how difficult it can be for so many to make it in the industry, competing in this uneven playing field.

ddie Marsan, a major actor in both TV and film, questions the industry’s lack of recruitment of working class actors and how this is reflected in production. On the 19th September, Eddie sat across from myself and two other students, telling us about his experiences with employment as a working class actor. “An authentic perspective”, Eddie says, is gained from those who have understanding through experience of the working class. The first time Eddie realised how intensely inaccurate and patronising some perceptions of the working class can be was when he was performing in a play at The National and the director, of a privileged middle class background, dismissed the smart suits worn by working class characters as “too good”. Eddie and another actor who had grown up in a working class lifestyle explained to him that, in fact, such people all owned perfect suits, affording expenses by keeping the suits in pawn shops from Monday to Thursday. On another occasion, a different director constructed a filthy and dirty living space for a working class character.

Eddie questioned, “why is it filthy?”, the director’s response being “well, it’s a working class house.”

No matter how researched and studied a topic is, the resulting perspective can only ever be limited without experience. Limitation becomes inaccuracy. Eddie believes that there is an infantilization of the working class where people who don’t come from that culture want to ‘rescue’ them, and a series of archetypal characters are produced, not based on reality but a didactic political argument. There is a delusory romanticisation by the middle class of the working class, who see it as their duty to act as rescuers. Yet Eddie describes that, as an actor from a working class background, he finds himself in perpetual questioning as to why such portrayals are so filtered and two-dimensional.

“I don’t do cockneys on coke.”

Eddie’s rule is humorously analogous to his anger at the stereotypical working class portrayal in TV and film yet it is also disturbingly prevalent, given the glorification of working class violence in the media. Immorality is celebrated, and Eddie objects to “middle class people putting gangsters on the cover of GQ Magazine.” Advocating for meritocracy, for equal access to opportunity, Eddie feels could never condone the objectification of the working class as a portion of the population that needs to be saved. That being said, it is becoming harder for people of a similar background to Eddie to receive drama training, to get access to the industry. To quote Eddie himself:

“it’s becoming less obtainable, and that’s dangerous”.

Eddie began his career working at a printers and then a bookmakers, before deciding to attend night school and then a full time course in acting. For three years, he never had any grants or funding and he and his family had to find a way of making it a possibility. It took Eddie seven years after leaving drama school

The Underpass -Arts- 2018 - 2019

to earn a living as an actor, and so for those years he was doing “anything else”, as you need money to make money in any industry, accentuating why he believes so strongly in meritocracy. It is these beliefs that are so relevant to Latymer’s ‘Inspiring Minds’ campaign, where access to education and to opportunity should not be based on a financial disposition, and Eddie agrees that getting in, regardless of your ability to pay for it, is “how it’s got to be.” There is a famous phrase in acting, Eddie told us, that goes, “nothing that’s human is alien to me.” To take on a role is to look at the character’s experience and contextualise it in the sense that you might research their historical background, or listen to the music they might listen to. What is then created is a mindmap of the character’s perception of the world, creating their ‘super-purpose’: what the character thinks will make them happy. You create the negative and work out what they’re trying to achieve. However, to do all this is to fuse the character with your own existence because actors base all characters from their own experiences, which makes their character believable to the audience.

“The reason audiences like actors is because they see something and think, ‘oh, that’s me. I experienced that.’”

Eddie is also a vocal critic of politics, using his social media platform to share his ideas and beliefs, seeing it as a duty to stand up against discrimination. He told us, “Life is paradoxical and complex so solutions to problems are paradoxical and complex.” Because of change, people are retreating back into their cultural and political extremes. Elements of that patronising quality discussed with directors and working class actors are often seen by Eddie online, where people assume ‘Oh he was once working class. He should believe this.’ The problem with politicians like Corbyn, Eddie describes, is that they don’t like people challenging their narrative or their narcissistic perception of themselves as saviours, when in actual fact, the working class can save themselves. What should be provided is good social housing and care. As a humorous side note, Eddie notes how his wife jokes that since he never went to university, twitter has become his “debating society”. Next, Eddie will be in ‘Backseat’, a spinoff of ‘Fast and Furious’ and ‘Ray Donovan’. Eddie’s careful construction of his character who has Parkinson’s disease in ‘Ray Donovan’, having interviewed and observed patients and doctors, will certainly give homage to his talent and his empathetic nature. Despite Eddie’s extraordinary success, he is still careful not to romanticise his working class upbringing or his current middle class lifestyle. Besides, as he humorously and humbly recognises, ‘Women don’t want to sleep with me and men don’t want to be me!” Eddie is using his platform as a public figure to do all he can to advocate meritocracy and strongly believes in equal opportunity, acknowledging his own path to success and the hurdles he encountered on the way.

“I fell into acting, and it’s been an education for me.”

The Underpass -Arts- 2018 - 2019

Nabokov’s love declaration to the English language: why Lolita is a must read by Allegra Della Ragione, U6

hen Lolita was first published, readers and critics were “puzzled, taxed, peeved, irked, or outraged.” This novel has been at the centre of many moral debates and has gone from being the subject of scandal, banned in many countries, to having acquired near canonical status. When it came out in 1955, John Gordon described it as ‘sheer unrestrained pornography’, and when the controversy reached the US, John Hollander said that ‘it flames with a tremendous perversity of an unexpected kind.’ Whilst there is an element of truth to these comments, the reader has to ask themselves if they represent the whole picture.

In 1955, Graham Greene nominated Lolita as one of the best books of the year, and Lionel Trilling said that Nabokov’s skill to revive the love story in Western literature should not go unnoticed. The obsession of the protagonist, Humbert, represents a modern incarnation of the passionate love that once flourished in European literature but that had disappeared in recent times. After novels such as Lady Chatterley’s Lover were published, how can one depict this kind of passionate love when adultery no longer has the power to be scandalous or shocking? For Nabokov, this was an aesthetic challenge, and throughout the novel, Humbert is verbally adept, and is constantly assessing others in their ability to use language, and he acknowledges this when he says, “you can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style.” Nabokov did not intend to be morally didactic, and his use of fantastical and fairy tale-like imagery and language add to the atmosphere of his style as aesthetic and mystical rather than factual or utilitarian. For example, when he calls Lolita his “nymphet” and likens her to a butterfly. This echoes Nabokov’s life, as he was a lepidopterist and throughout the novel, he sounds as if he is trying to catch or categorise a butterfly. Nabokov’s dexterous blurring of the lines of morality is what allows the reader to appreciate the novel as art rather than to be morally correct. Nemerov describes the novel as a ‘tragedy’. Humbert does not escape his actions unscathed, he is continually punished for them, and his ultimate demise is the result of his imprisonment for his love of Lolita. Humbert acknowledges his wrongdoings in the novel, and he admits his love for her when he is writing retrospectively in prison: “I loved you. I was a pentapod monster, but I loved you. I was despicable and brutal, and turpid, and everything, mais je t’aimais, je t’aimais.” He regularly refers to the reader as the “jury”, mocking their tendency to make moral judgments. As a reader, it is impossible to be incapable of relating to the feelings of heartbreak, loss and hopelessness, and it is these feelings of nostalgia that make Humbert an endearing yet disconcerting character. Dupee sees the novel as a ‘monstrous picture’ of a ‘desperately common experience’. The prose is by turns passionate and playful, while the narrative is simultaneously lyrical, unsettling, erotic and violent. What is also shocking is that the author manages to elicit empathy from the readers: something they would not expect from a novel where the protagonist is a paedophile and a murderer. Nabokov’s prose alone can seduce readers into seeing Humbert’s outrageous perspective. In a lesser writer’s work, it would be too easy to dismiss Humbert as a monster, but Nabokov denies the reader the ability to judge too quickly. What terrified people at the time of its publication was their complicity in his sins, despite them never condoning his thwarted infatuation. The form of purity that love assumes is the most thrilling and beautiful yet disturbing aspect of the novel, as, whether the reader wants to or not, they understand and can relate to Humbert’s character. In his essay, Lionel Trilling said: ‘Lolita is about love. Perhaps I shall be better understood if I put the statement in this form: Lolita is not about sex, but about love.’ Humbert’s love for Lolita transcends time and death, as the last line of the novel is him writing: “and this is the only immortality you and I may share, my Lolita.” Nabokov, like Humbert himself, is less interested in sexuality than in the insurmountable nature of desire itself. The novel, which shows deep psychological insight, can be viewed as an allegory of Europe’s relationship with America, and offers an illustration of love that is just as patently original as it is brutally shocking. Books are supposed to impact a reader and change their perspective on an issue, so the scandal and controversy originally associated with this novel is inherently necessary. The reason Lolita is so talked about today is because of the author’s daring nature.

The Underpass -Arts- 2018 - 2019

Lolita: A glamorisation of paedophilia? by Mia Bogod, U6

y problem with Lolita lies not with the subject itself; of course, I am not suggesting that it is necessarily harmful to write about controversial subjects, for what better way is there to address the darker details of society than through literature? Nabokov writes in the Foreword that ‘Lolita should make all of us - parents, social workers, educators - apply ourselves with still greater vigilance and vision to the task of bringing up a better generation in a safer world’. And yet, in my opinion, the reception of the novel has done the very antithesis of this. Lolita has become a glimmer, a spark, a trend in popular culture. The age of consent is 16 in the UK, and, in the novel, Lolita, a 12 year old girl is manipulated and repeatedly raped by her stepfather after the death of her mother. And still, this negates the minds of a generation as they see endless pictures of girls with red heart sunglasses and a lollipop in hand. Lolita has been popularised as a style, somebody to imitate. When put like that it seems apparent why this is wrong; she has become an icon of American beauty and seduction, at the height of female objectivity. The epitome of this emerging culture is seen by the 2011 Marc Jacobs ‘Oh Lola’ perfume advert, in which a 17 year old Dakota Fanning is pictured, with the perfume bottle between her legs. Banned in the UK for sexualising children, this advert is a clear allusion to Lolita. Fanning, a young ‘nymph’ (to put it in Humbert’s words), is being glamorised in the same way Humbert, a 37 year old paedophile, glamorised Lolita. The perfume industry is known for its endless objectification in advertising, and, in this particular case, I was disturbed upon realisation that they were selling a perfume by romanticising the vulnerability of a sexually abused girl. This ‘minor’ factor is cast aside, because of course, Lolita, and here, Dakota Fanning, are ‘beautiful’ and society enjoys seeing beautiful people advertising hedonism. In Japan, there is a rising culture of ‘Lolita’, which, in essence, makes profit out of glamourising a prepubescent girl’s ‘elegance, innocence and purity’. The ‘Lolita Complex’ is seen everywhere in Japanese culture, as groups of young girls are all over the media, feeding the nations obsession with this image and thus encouraging sexual exploitation against them. Rape should never be romanticised, and be it intentionally or not, this has emerged from Nabokov’s writing. Perhaps this comes from somewhere in the text; personally I found it difficult to fall for Humbert’s ‘fancy prose style’ or to be fooled by his language of paedophilia and lust which contradicts so strongly with my moral values. Yet this is Humbert’s objective, and a dangerous and disturbing one as such. My aim is therefore not to say that no good can necessarily come from this novel, but that we have a responsibility to confront these issues; criticise what we read, what we see and, as women across the world are beginning to come forward and report their sexual abusers, we must never popularise, romanticise or glamorise sexual abuse of any kind; 1 in 5 women from the age of 16 in the UK have experienced sexual assault, something which needs to be taken seriously: not glamorised or aestheticised, but ended.

The Underpass -Arts- 2018 - 2019

‘If a picture paints a thousand words, does that mean I can’t read?’ by Arthur Clifton, U6

rt has never been my first choice as a creative activity; in fact, it is pretty near the bottom of the pack. I think the most encouragement I have received with regard to pursuing my artistic capabilities is to not do so; after all, dreams should be chased not nightmares. I have evidence to back this up, my two most memorable artistic moments in Latymer Upper School are; receiving an R 1 in year 8, which translates to; impressive input, depressing output. And, in year 9, a teacher proposed that my friend took on GCSE Art, then after posing the same question to me walked away laughing before waiting for a response. With this in mind, enjoy my reviews. RENÉ MAGRITTE ‘The Human Condition’, 1933 (Surrealism)

Despite its apparent style, this painting doesn’t actually seem all that surreal to me, sure, the painting within a painting aspect is a bit strange, but that’s about as far as it goes for me in that regard. It definitely took me a second to realise what was happening and I’ll give credit to the concept, pretty good, but as to any deeper meanings, I’ve really got nothing, if I were to hazard a guess, the power of painting? You know, you’ve got the reality filled in with a picture, how powerful… but that’s the limit of my profundity on this one, sorry to disappoint. Although, if I’m being honest, I think it would be more impressive if someone pulled this off in real life, with just one picture on an easel and the rest consisting of the real world. Painting a picture and then painting around it to make sure said picture fits in? Seems like cheating to me. Professional opinion; (La condition humaine - National Gallery of Art) nga.gov The Human Condition displays an easel placed inside a room and in front of a window. The easel holds an unframed painting of a landscape that seems in every detail contiguous with the landscape seen outside the window. At first, one automatically assumes that the painting on the easel depicts the portion of the landscape outside the window that it hides from view. After a moment’s consideration, however, one realizes that this assumption is based upon a false premise: that is, that the imagery of Magritte’s painting is real, while the painting on the easel is a representation of that reality. In fact, there is no difference between them. Both are part of the same painting, the same artistic fabrication. It is perhaps to this repeating cycle, in which the viewer, even against his will, sees the one as real and the other as representation, that Magritte’s title makes reference. Quite frankly, I don’t even understand this explanation, showing just how underequipped I am to give my opinion on this art. However, I did get that I fell into the trap of assuming the easel picture was an exact replica of the scenery it is obscuring, but that is hardly a surprise. CLAUDE MONET ‘Impression sunrise’, 1872 (Impressionism) I actually really like this one. To me, the red sun seems to be the focal point, as your attention is drawn towards it in the sky and it imprints itself upon the water. This seems impressive to me as, dimensions wise, it is a very small part of the full image yet, despite

The Underpass -Arts- 2018 - 2019

this, it manages to affect its surroundings in a dynamic and unique way. I think this painting gives off a sense of serenity, in conjunction with an almost despairing atmosphere and that the hazy aspect of this picture only helps to accentuate this, and the sun particularly helps to give character to the people, undetailed as they may be, upon this brooding landscape. I hope Claude will appreciate my feedback and that he does all right for himself. Professional opinion; (Impression Sunrise by Claude Monet) claude-Monet.com This famous painting, Impression, Sunrise, was created from a scene in the port of Le Havre. Monet depicts a mist, which provides a hazy background to the piece set in the French harbour. The orange and yellow hues contrast brilliantly with the dark vessels, where little, if any detail is immediately visible to the audience. It is a striking and candid work that shows the smaller boats in the foreground almost being propelled along by the movement of the water. This has, once again, been achieved by separate brushstrokes that also show various colours “sparkling” on the sea. Look at that, the professional and I share a singular word in our paragraphs, maybe I’m getting the hang of it? Not so sure about the sparkling or movement through, I saw the picture in a kind of dull coloured stasis, which I think works to its credit. ROSE WYLIE ‘Jack goes swimming’, 2013 (Abstract) Oh, and it was all going so well. I am not sure how to approach this one, just as Jack does not seem sure of how to approach the water. I guess he could be joyous and carefree in his eagerness to unite with the sea (?) but it does look like he is in physical pain, or that he should be at least. Sorry, but that’s the closest I’m going to get to deciphering this picture’s message unaided, I’m sure it’s genius in its subtle tackling of a dark and piteous subject, and that the image’s dissonance only helps to convey this, but, in order to subvert the traditions of abstract art criticism, I won’t say that it looks like a 5 year old could draw it, but that I could draw it. Which is decidedly harsher. Professional opinion; (Rose Wylie review childlike bursts of freedom and joy | Art & design) the guardian.com Pain is written into the very flesh of a man posing uncertainly in trunks, ready to jump in a lake, in her picture Jack Goes Swimming (Jack). A brown line that runs down his pink back, with stitch-like marks at right angles to it, may be just a crudely drawn spine, or it could be a deep vertical scar from an accident or major surgery. Surely a scar, for this character running awkwardly towards the blue summery water, with his green-hatted head hunched down, communicates intense pathos and suffering. The painting’s title and various scribbles on its surface allude to the Philip Seymour Hoffman film Jack Goes Boating. I have not seen it, but the sadness of Hoffman’s death reverberates with this lonely swimmer. Fine, whatever. I am just saying that Jack’s run isn’t the only awkward thing about this picture.

So that was my honest and best attempt at ‘reviewing’ much loved works of art. I hope I have displayed that not all the nuances of painting are lost on me, only most, and that who knows? Maybe I can become the world’s first artist who cannot draw (or has Rose Wylie beaten me to it?)

The Underpass -Arts- 2018 - 2019

Year 11 Essay Prize: Winning Entry by Sasha Kolobov Not-So-Great Expectations: Exploring the presentation of women in Charles Dickens’ Great Expectations

ickens’ Great Expectations, first serialised in 1861 during the Victorian period, presents an almost ‘compulsory’ view of women as dependent figures, who “lose” their “lustre” and with age dwindle from the stereotypically virginal “white” to “faded and yellow”. Indeed, during the time women were regarded as second class, despite the reigning monarch, Queen Victoria, having been on the throne for fourteen years. Estella’s entrapment in a patriarchal society arguably strengthens her coldness towards Pip; her haughty nature a learnt trait from her oppressive guardian. However, Dickens makes inversions of these kinds of superficial readings of his texts. Estella herself asks Pip if he would like her “to deceive and entrap” him. Ironically, no women could vote during the publication of Great Expectations and all major political, social and economic decisions were made by men as there were no important female political figures except for the Queen herself, who was opposed to suffrage. In Dickens’ penultimate novel he depicts men and women existing within separate social spaces and at times exacerbates the classical Victorian view of the female life-cycle through his depiction of female sexuality and sterility largely based on age, the female as a domestic being and the power displacement between men and women in the novel. Great Expectations is a novel filled with ‘mutilated’ women: Miss Havisham, Mrs Joe and Estella all suffer terribly at the hands of male figures. Miss Havisham is a key example of a female character who attempts to enact a revenge against men - it consumes her and ultimately, has an overwhelming effect on herself and her behaviour towards others in the novel. The reader first encounters Miss Havisham in the eighth chapter when Pip, the principal character, is sent to ‘play’ at Satis House, Miss Havisham’s place of residence. Satis House is described as semi-derelict and neglected. There is “grass.. ...growing in every crevice” and it’s “empty” nature and “disused” appearance reflect Miss Havisham herself, a woman who has deliberately allowed her house to fall into disrepair and consequently failing her Victorian ‘domestic duty’. Furthermore, it is not only Miss Havisham’s house which reflects her faded sexuality, but her personal appearance which exacerbates the consequence of her ‘spinsterdom’. She is “dressed in rich materials”, reflecting her atypical affluence for a female during the period, and has “a long white veil dependent from her hair” reflecting her past experience as a woman deserted by the man she loved on her wedding day. The extent to which this tragedy has festered is evident by Dickens’ description of the “withered” bride “within the bridal dress”. Miss Havisham has “no brightness left but the brightness of her sunken eyes”. Dickens may be alluding here to Victorian society’s view of older women as sexless, base characters who cease to offer ‘use’ to society once their fertility is “dried up”. Indeed, the word “satis” comes from the Latin word for “enough”. Throughout the novel, a large proportion of men thrive as they advance in age. However, Miss Havisham, who is the single female character we see live to such an age, consistently displays the death of femininity and sexuality that comes with post-menopausal existence. In adopting Estella, she effectively attempts to enact revenge on the patriarchal structure which has resulted in her subjugation. However, Estella is physically opposite to Miss Havisham and Miss Havisham’s subsequent exploitation of her appearance is suggestive of a hypocrisy that Dickens may be making a commentary about. Where Miss Havisham is “diseased” and “secluded” Estella is “simply irresistible” and is loved despite “reason”. Her name is derived from the Latin word “star” and is emphasised through the description of “her light” which comes “along the dark passage like a star”. The celestial power of her fertile, youthful femininity is clear in comparison to her decrepit guardian. Females, in the novel, are undoubtedly confined to the domestic realm. The ultimate manifestation of this trope is Miss Havisham who, at the time of the novel, has not left Satis House in decades. Its “old brick” and “dismal” appearance give off the impression of a prison, further emphasised by its “many great iron bars”. Indeed, her house is “barricaded from robbers” and the remaining exterior world, leading Miss Havisham to enact a life of seclusion - devoid of typical Victorian socialising. Without dismissing the fact that Great Expectations does have a number of female gaolers, offenders and criminals, the novel mostly adheres

The Underpass -Arts- 2018 - 2019

to the stereotypical Victorian archetype of the domesticated female, particularly through the extremes of Miss Havisham, and Biddy. Both women uphold notions that are common to a gendered society, which places separate sexes in opposite ‘spheres’, through the social space which they inhabit. Indeed, it is Miss Havisham’s dependence on her home, as a coping mechanism, after being abandoned by her fiancé which ultimately ‘chains’ her to the role of the domestic woman. Pip’s elder sister, Mrs Joe Gargery, is also a prime example of the female confined within the domestic domain evidenced by her complaints that “perhaps” if she “warn’t a blacksmith’s wife” or a “slave with her apron never off” she may “have heard the carols”. Such criticism also clearly draws on Dickens’ views on class and the unjust treatment of impoverished Victorian society. Pip’s sister “almost always wore a coarse apron” portraying that she remains in her home “always” despite her musings on festive music. Indeed, physical appearance is a central method Dickens employs to convey the characteristics of his female characters powerfully. At the time, it was traditionally thought, if a woman was ‘round and curvy’ she was a very warm person but if she was ‘bony and skinny’ she would be unpleasant and cold. Following this supposition, Mrs Joe Gargery is “tall and bony” and has a “square impregnable bib” in front of her apron. All these descriptions reflect her unrelenting rigidity and “square” links to her insensitiveness towards human feeling and her imprisonment within the domestic forge. Another example of Mrs Joe Gargery being trapped within the domestic sphere is shown through her identity being solely determined by her husband; she takes on his name. Further, she claims “I may truly say that I’ve never had this apron of mine, since you were born” displaying the Victorian stoicism shown by women as mothers and ‘caregivers’. Elsewhere, Biddy’s persona is defined by her role as the perfect domestic servant. When Mrs Joe is attacked Biddy comes to help with nothing but a “small speckled box containing the whole of her worldly effects”. Such a reduction of an entire human being to simply a few possessions must clearly be an indication of how unimportant Victorian society saw lower-class women to be. Despite having no relation to Mrs Joe, Biddy is “pleasant, wholesome and sweet-tempered”. Dickens may be making a case for strong-willed and hardworking women with such descriptions, emphasised even more greatly by her description as the “most obliging of girls”. And finally, Estella, although more widely travelled than any other female character in the novel, is regardless confined between domestic locations: a foreign school, Satis House and Mrs Brandley’s home in Richmond. Even she admits that it feels as though they “have no choice” and are “not free to follow our own devices” and, consequently, after a failed engagement she returns to the rotting corpse of Satis House. In contrast, Dickensian menfolk are more or less free to go at will. Although Joe Gargery’s movements are strongly confined by his wife’s demands, he still has the liberty to escape to the “Three Jolly Bargemen” or attend errands uptown on occasion. Pip too, though also suffering the demands of his sister’s will, is free to play upon the marshes and attend Miss Havisham’s house at Satis “for the good of the family”. And furthermore, the males residing in London have the innate freedom to come-and-go as they please. For example, Wemmick and Jaggers are both bachelors unconstrained by domestic demands or female partners. However, many gender roles are surprisingly inverted throughout the novel. This is most interestingly shown through younger Pip’s perceptions of the adults in his life. From the writing on his gravestone, Pip imagines his father to have been a “square, stout, dark man, with curly black hair”. Despite being a rather masculine image, Mrs Joe is similarly described as a figure with “black hair and eyes”. This similarity in physical appearance may reflect Dickens’ criticism of typically gendered appearances. Pip hypothesises his mother’s appearance from her gravestone as well: “from the turn of the inscription...I drew a childish conclusion that my mother was freckled and sickly”. Joe is an equally “fair” man and has features far more feminine than Mrs Joe. He is described as “a fair man, with curls of flaxen hair on each side of his smooth face, and with eyes of such a very undecided blue”. Pip’s physical descriptions of all these parental figures reveals the inconclusive gender identities in the Gargery home almost as if the gender roles had been swapped. Mrs Joe’s ‘masculine’ behaviour is the most significant indicator of her desire to break free from the entrapment of the traditional feminine domestic role. Her “square impregnable bib in front [that was] stuck full of pins and needles” is arguably almost weaponry in its description. However, despite Dickens’ attempt to displace certain gender roles enacted by the Victorian Era Mrs Joe is still defined by actions of ‘womanly’ work and becomes revered in society for “raising Pip by hand”. In conclusion, Charles Dickens subverts some stereotypical Victorian ideals of motherhood, femininity and masculinity through the gender roles of his characters but, he maintains the overarching strict framework of a gendered society in nineteenth-century England through the sterility of older females’ sexuality, the female remaining in the domestic realm and the uneven demand for power between women and men.

The Underpass -Arts- 2018 - 2019

Year 11 Poetry Prize on the theme of Landscape Winning entry He Was There Early morning summer stillness Like statues the trees stand The sun’s rays scatter off the sea’s inviting waters He was there Irregular planks of wood lay beneath our bare feet Grains of sand working their way up through our toes Grins upon our naive faces He was there Cliff faces painted with jagged rocks Our footprints imprinting on the glowing sand below Shielded, He was there Each tree flailing and writhing My groans of pain carried away by the wind Trees mimic my suffering He was not there Sharp gusts of wind cut my rosy cheeks No longer shielded I perched myself onto the bristled grass He was not there Violent waves throw themselves onto the vertical cliff faces Covering the rock’s serrated ribs They give themself up He was not there The winds still roar The sea remains untamed My chest still in pain And he is not here. Anna Whelan

Runner-up absent friends when the earth makes its claim as it should and we were nothing but a moment in time and trees return to where they once stood and concrete is cradled in vine when the land heals all of its scars empty buildings come home to the ground we will lose what once we called ours but something thought lost will be found the creatures will roam buried roads the moss will meet rock faces new the rivers will spread their arms in relief there never was space for a me or a you our mother will stretch from the hills can you hear she can finally breathe? the green of her skin will glisten all the good we could do was to leave when the birch and the ash start to chatter and the swallows hear gossip from the moor when the wind purrs and the sea stones clatter the way they did just before only then will we understand as our last fighting bodies will fall little marks, forgotten by the sand, we might never have been here at all. Eloise Rodger What I wanted to achieve: “Whilst humans have the power to do good, in the context of the universe we are ultimately insignificant. I also try to capture the idea that we are merely guests on earth and are far past overstaying our welcome.”

The Underpass -Arts- 2018 - 2019

TWEET US: UNDONNEMAG

Gggggg

UNDONNE 2018 - 2019

Drop Tinder, now. Gggggg

01.12.18

Gggggg

…And meet John Donne, the new Prince Charming.

mean it. Drop it, as well as match.com, OKcupid and every other mediocre dating site that’s failing to meet your expectations (face it, they’re not helping), and dip into something a little different…say seventeenth century poetry, for example. More specifically, the man, the myth, the legend John Donne. I know what you must be thinking. This guy? This outdated, pompous looking fossil with a beard that screams wannabe Dumbledore? Well lads, I’ll tell you now: he may be an oldie, but he is one hundred percent a goodie. Don’t believe me? Take a look at his moves which he expertly jots down…

Twice or thrice I loved thee, before I knew thy face or name. I mean, come on. Perhaps there is a slight hint of arrogance, but why not? Girls clearly DROP for him! Kinda like fleas…That must have crossed his mind in one way or another, because one of his love poems actually compares his sexual antics with his lover to the flying vermin. And, gasp. Following its publication, he was STILL considered a (very successful) ladies man! Halt there. What on earth are you doing wrong? Well, let’s look at it this way: if Donne can use the occasion of a flea hopping from himself to his lady as an excuse to argue that they should make love (and get away with it) he must be doing something right. So I’d listen up, if I were you. Yes, ‘The Flea’ may seem a little complicated compared to the typical Netflix&Chill text, but, if you follow his three simple dating rules incorporated into the poem, you’ll be dallying like Donne in no time and girls will LOVE you for it.

DONNE’S DATING DIRECTIONS: 1 BE PLAYFUL! Remember, girls just wanna

have fun. Try some wordplay, some lighthearted puns and tie it all together with the a few rhyming couplets. Here is an example from Donne: It sucked me first, and now sucks thee, / And in this flea, our two bloods mingled be. This is pure GOLD. Donne’s suggestive language and his world-play with “suck” and “fuck” (oooh, how licentious) induces a sacramental kind of love to make his woman comfortable, and also sets the atmosphere of intimacy. Told you he’s a pro.

2 Be controlled and clever in your flirting. In ‘The Flea’ Donne uses a syllogistic structure to lay out his arguments. Tell the gal what you want. Girls like it when a guy knows what he’s doing. Donne was an MP, of course. Instead of ‘if thou yield’s to me,’ say ‘when though yield’s to me’. And there you have it: entitlement. To spice it up a bit, try and bring in some legalistic language. BE the lawyer. As always, ladies love a man in a suit.

3 Your girl needs to know you’re serious

about this relationship. Alas! Religious language is your savior. Donne uses phrases such as ‘marriage,’ ‘innocence,’ and ‘cloistered’ to add an element of sincerity to his words and also to help coerce her into making love. Original, right?

4 On this note, persuasion is also something

Donne is rather good at (obviously), arguing that although his lover kills the flea, neither of them is the weaker for it, therefore, why does she hesitate to join with him in sexual intimacy? Either way, her honour will be equally undiminished. Top tip: if your sweetheart is as stubborn as Donne’s and flirting and manipulation are getting you nowhere, use blackmail! She won’t expect it, #kinky #risqué. So, what are you waiting for? The paper and pen are calling! Why not compare your other half to a naked mole rat or a sphinx cat? Try it out, and let us know how it goes - We’re expecting a lot of wedding invitations next year!

The Underpass -Arts- 2018 - 2019

By Lily Kingdon-Dawkins, U6

“From Suicide to Creativity”. The Patrick Melrose Series: A Tour de Force and a Repossession of Self. by Allegra Della Ragione & Lily Kingdon-Dawkins, U6

fter his suicide attempt at the age of twenty-five, Edward St. Aubyn made a pact: to publish a book or kill himself. He stopped taking heroin in 1988, the year he began to work on ‘Never Mind’, the first of the Patrick Melrose series.

One spots another superb simile every third line. The most mundane actions are sharpened and magnified, so that the sound of ice cracking in water is ‘like a spine in the hands of a confident osteopath’, an example also of the novels’ biting satire.

‘They fuck you up, your mum and dad, / They may not mean to, but they do.’ Albeit with the addition of Edward St. Aubyn’s tactful and subtle influence, Larkin’s line encapsulates the narrative gist of the semi-autobiographical Patrick Melrose quintet. Raped by his father, neglected by his liquor-and-pilladdled mother and oppressed by the stratospherically upper-class milieu, St. Aubyn employs the rather unsentimental Patrick as his alter-ego to recount the events of his early childhood, set out in Never Mind. The impact of these experiences is reflected in the following four novels, as he retrospectively recites his relationship with drugs, sex and family in a disturbing but exceptionally raw confession and rigorous self-examination, a desperate attempt to escape the prison of memory and conditioning.

It’s been said that rage is the source of most comedy, and St Aubyn’s writing supports this argument. ‘Some laughter comes from escaped horror, doesn’t it?’, he comments while in interview. The gravity of his intention is buoyed by an abundant wit, laughout-loud funniness, and piercing observations into the world of privilege and entitlement. His likeness to Oscar Wilde has been pointed out by multiple reviewers. Indeed, in the novels, Patrick’s carapace against despair is irony, ‘the hardest addiction of all,’ as he tells a friend. ‘Forget heroin. Just try giving up irony, that deep-down need to mean two things at once, to be in two places at once, not to be there for the catastrophe of a fixed meaning.’ These caustic one-liners impregnate the narrative, but also show that, beyond the mordant humour, there’s great psychological insight in each of the books. When looking closely, the syntactic gloss is clearly a protective measure, what one critic calls a ‘droll band-aid’, which reminds readers that St. Aubyn wrote the Melrose novel cycle as a literary laundromat for his own story; he told The New Yorker that “This whole journey is toward the truth, or toward authenticity, agency, and freedom. How could it possibly help to plant a lie in the middle of it?” And yet he also acknowledged that “by telling the truth, I’ve distorted the message,” that he melted his own story into Patrick’s in order to throw up a smokescreen; he wrote the books in order to gaze directly at his worst experiences, but from a distance, through a glassine barrier.

One of the most widely admired features of St. Aubyn’s lucidly elegant prose is its intense intellectual acuity. St. Aubyn purposely omits Melrose’s childhood education from the novels; including this would be edging too much towards the ‘over explored’, which he openly shuns. Though even when Patrick hits rock bottom with drug use and hopelessness, he remains erudite and rational, embarking on an introspective path where thoughts are of a literary and almost ethical level; even the farcical characters that ‘inhabit’ him — Gift o’ the Gab O’Connor, the Fat Man and Mrs Garsington — are explored with scholarly insight. St. Aubyn jovially calls him a ‘pretentious junkie’ though, on a deeper level, his decision for an intellectual voice enables him to articulate better what it means — and how it feels — to be a severe depressive and drug-addict which, confirmed by other addicts, is painfully realistic. Particularly in the second novel, Bad News, spanning the entire scope of the addict’s trauma: the blood, the dirty hits, the overdoses, the casual violence and the banality, is the narrative most graphic and difficult to read. St. Aubyn’s impressions prickle the skin of readers, most perceptibly when Patrick repeatedly injects himself, listening to his blood ‘hissing like a television screen after closedown’ and watching ‘a wound like a volcano cone’ appear on his forearm.

Of course, St. Aubyn’s redemption and the reader’s vicarious salvation could not be achieved without the powerful character development throughout the course of the books. The narrative ornament while retaining authenticity makes St. Aubyn a literary maestro. What the Melrose novels do — like what all the best fiction does — is slowly shuck away the hard exterior around its main character, exposing a bloody centre oozing with empathy. The eponymous Patrick Melrose is one of the most expertly-crafted, true characters in 21st Century fiction, within one of the most expertly-crafted, true masterpieces of 21st Century fiction. Finishing up an interview, St. Aubyn casually wonders whether he hasn’t ‘unemployed [him] self by finishing the Melroses’. We sincerely and wholeheartedly hope not.

The Underpass -Arts- 2018 - 2019

Shakespeare and the Bible by Andrew Copeman ‘England has two books, the Bible and Shakespeare. England made Shakespeare, but the Bible made England.’ Victor Hugo

here is a strong suspicion that Shakespeare wrote Psalm 46. The argument (and this is taken from Melvyn Bragg’s interesting book The Book of Books) is that Shakespeare worked on this when he was 46 years old (many well-known poets were asked to work on the Psalms for the finalised 1611 King James Bible). If 46 words are counted from the start of the psalm you come to the word ‘shake’ and if you count 46 words back from the psalm (excluding ‘Selah’ which is considered to be a form of punctuation) you come across the word ‘spear’. If you go 10 verses into the psalm (4+6 = 10) and count in 6 words you get ‘I am’. Count 4 words on and you get ‘will’. If you reverse the 6 and 4, you get 46 and ‘William’! It seems rather tenuous but then Shakespeare is the master of word-play and it is the kind of playful word game he might have enjoyed. Holy Trinity Church (pictured) in Stratford-UponAvon appear to give some credence to this theory by placing their first edition King James Bible next to Shakespeare’s grave with Psalm 46 always on display.

In Stephen Greenblatt’s Will in the World he writes: ‘without Tyndale’s New Testament and Cranmer’s Prayer Book it is difficult to imagine William Shakespeare the playwright.’ Shakespeare quotes hundreds of times from the Geneva translation and quotes from the Bible about 1,350 times. He alludes to 42 books of the Bible, the story of Cain is referred to twenty-five times, Jeptha in at least seven passages, Samson nine times, David six, Goliath three, Solomon nine, Job twenty-five, Judas twenty-three, Peter seven, Pilate seven, the Prodigal Son seven, Dives and Lazarus seven, the Whore of Babylon seven times. Today, English Departments can find teaching literature, in an age when religious allusions are no longer part of the everyday idiom, a challenge.

Psalm 46 King James Version 1. God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. 2. Therefore will not we fear, though the earth be removed, and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea; 3. Though the waters thereof roar and be troubled, though the mountains shake with the swelling thereof. Selah. 4. There is a river, the streams whereof shall make glad the city of God, the holy place of the tabernacles of the most High. 5. God is in the midst of her; she shall not be moved: God shall help her, and that right early. 6. The heathen raged, the kingdoms were moved: he uttered his voice, the earth melted. 7. The LORD of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge. Selah. 8. Come, behold the works of the LORD, what desolations he hath made in the earth. 9. He maketh wars to cease unto the end of the earth; he breaketh the bow, and cutteth the spear in sunder; he burneth the chariot in the fire. 10. Be still, and know that I am God: I will be exalted among the heathen, I will be exalted in the earth. 11. The LORD of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge. Selah.

The Underpass -Arts- 2018 - 2019

Latymer Uganda 2018 - A Trip To Be Remembered by Luc Mondon-Ballantyne, Year 11

anding at Entebbe Airport, hearing the rubber of the wheels screeching against the potholed tarmac runway, we stepped off the plane into the 1:00am darkness and the smell of warm, moist vegetation in the air. We ambled down the steps soaking up the first feelings of Africa, being drawn out of our “western bubble”.

Despite the smells and dim airport lights in the distance we had an overwhelming feeling of the great days ahead: visits to multiple primary schools, orphanages, heart-warming smiling kids, dancing, music, painting and sightseeing to name but a few of the great experiences on the Uganda trip. After leaving the airport, we drove down the cobbled roads in a traditional African bus with the widely spread windows open to their fullest extent blowing thick, cool air through our hair. There was no air conditioning. This is when I first noticed the extreme poverty of the people and surroundings. They live in makeshift homes amongst the occasional sturdy brick building every few hundred metres. My heart sank… I felt upset and selfish wearing my Apple Airpods and swiping through my Spotify playlist struggling to find the right song, and remembered days before when I was packing: the tricky decision to pick which shirts I should bring. After the bus journey, when we heard the loud music, smelt the barbequed food and saw the flashing lights with the local people dancing and singing together in the early hours of Sunday morning, it made me realise how these people strive through their problems and appear to numb them out with dance and music . This makes me feel happy too. As M-Lisada (the orphanage we visited) says, “music plays to your soul” – it really does for these people. In all honesty, when we woke up on the first day with the knowledge we were on our way to the orphanages we had an uneasy feeling in our stomachs. A few others and I were slightly nervous that when we first met the kids it would it be a slightly awkward interaction, as we would not know what to say, or whether the language barrier would be a difficulty to bypass. When we walked through the slums and were met by a marching band, that all changed. The bass from the trombones, trumpets, drums and many more instruments shook our bones happily and altered the uneasy feeling instantly. As soon as we arrived at the schools and orphanages we were greeted by songs, dancing, hugs, the shouting of “Mzungu!” (term of endearment for people of European descent) It was such a heart-warming feeling and one I will never forget in my life; I can barely put it into words. After days of hard work: painting, dancing and carrying many different kids on our shoulders, a break is well deserved. We stayed in a safari lodge only metres way from the bush that homes lions, elephants, giraffes, hippos and so many more African animals. The day ended with a rest and a tan by the pool. As the cliché goes, ‘my trip was truly life changing’. It really was. I will never forget my 10-year-old friend Tonny from Hidden Treasures Primary School, along with the M-Lisada Orphanage and the hundreds of other kids that we made close friendships with. We were entertained like no Netflix series can ever do. I hope to go back in the future and volunteer at one of the schools. It has made me realise how truly lucky we all are at Latymer is, as we get a great education which some may take for granted. The respect that the children have for their teachers is mind blowing, and that is because they know they are lucky to be receiving an education. If you are lucky enough to go on the trip in the future (definitely apply!) here are some tips: get that awkward feeling out of the way – so you can enjoy the time for longer; choose the right malaria tablets and sun cream; lastly, don’t get on the wrong side of Mr MacMahon at 2:00am in the morning! A huge thank goes out to all the teachers who came: Mr Bladon, Miss Cole, Mr MacMahon, Miss Green, Mr Wright and of course Miss Monahan who lead it all. A truly memorable trip: thank you! Follow @latymer_uganda on Instagram for more photos and videos.

The Underpass -News- 2018 - 2019

Surviving the Indonesian Earthquake by Lily Newman, U6

am sitting at a table in a restaurant on the beach, on the North side of the island Gili Trawangan, a 20-minute boat ride from Lombok. I’m wondering whether I should get the salad or the pasta. The rest of my family are equally undecided on their choices for our first dinner together on holiday, and my Dad and his girlfriend have walked off to look at the seafood that’s on offer. I finally decide on the salad and I hear my stepsister furiously ask my brother to stop shaking the table. I ignore their petty squabbling until I realise that the whole world is shaking, and then my whole world came crashing down. It took me an unusually long time to realise that I was in an earthquake. It is instances like these, you feel as if you should be frozen with fear, but one glance of the pure distress in my 12-year-old stepsister Maya’s eyes, and all I can think about is her. Some childhood TV show had taught my stepsister Tati to throw herself under a table. Maya, however, cannot move. She is screaming for her Mum and immediately I am convinced they are buried beneath a building and I have no idea how I am going to tell her. I reach for her hand and coax her into my arms. All the power in the island goes off and we are overwhelmed by darkness. The shaking still continues, it lasts for about 30 seconds, and then it stops. Out from the darkness, I can hear the screams of our parents, calling our names and they find us huddled under a table, unable to move. A call to my grandma confirms that yes, it was an earthquake. 6.9 on the Richter scale. The adrenaline filled me with an odd sort of euphoria that accompanies our miraculous survival. But the waiter is scanning the sea with a torch and, on an island that takes about 20 minutes to walk across, the risk that faced us was now a tsunami. A group of fellow tourists has decided to walk to the highest point on the island. The group marches into the darkness with only iPhone lights

to guide our way. Poisoned by the herd mentality, we realise that no one has any idea where we are going. This is followed by an enormous aftershock, a deafening bang and then the whole world shook, we ran for our lives. We reach the hill and it’s like a refugee camp, people are praying, singing to crying babies and desperately calling their families. A girl is carried on a makeshift stretcher to the top. Another call to my grandparents reveals that the tsunami alert has been lifted. The hill, it becomes apparent is a deadly location to be if another earthquake does strike. We tentatively make our way down. We must return to the villa to get our passports. We walk through an apocalyptic scene, the roads are covered in rubble and animals cry out, trapped in buildings. We reach our villa and it is destroyed, I remember that just hours earlier I was considering staying in to finish off some work. This minute decision saved my life. Whilst my Dad is in the villa, there is another aftershock, he screams for us to run as far as we can. We have nowhere to go. Wandering through the darkness, lights can be seen in the distance. It’s a small safari-style resort that seems to have survived the earthquakes, and the eccentric French owner allows us to stay the night. None of us slept at all. I held my sister in my arms as she shivered violently and whimpered with every aftershock. The night is silent, apart from the occasional punctuations of screaming donkeys. I assume they were being shot, the locals must have decided they weren’t coming back for a long time. I wake up to be told that we cannot stay here, it is too unsafe. The morning light reveals the extent of the destruction. We pack what stuff we can and set off on the long journey to the port. All the shops along the beach are destroyed and buildings have collapsed in on themselves. The queue to be

The Underpass -News- 2018 - 2019

rescued is thousands of people long and dangerous to stand in, so we set up camp on the beach. I’m standing in an idyllic location, that people paid so much money and traveled so many hours to reach and I want nothing more than to escape it entirely. It’s a bizarre feeling to know that the earth you stand upon is not safe, and to desire, at such an intensity, to be as far away as possible from where you currently stand. I will always have, and urge others to also, to have the utmost sympathy for those who have to endure such a feeling. With the desperation came utter madness. Shops were being looted at an alarming rate, people are sweeping whole shelves of food into their arms. As I walk along the beach Tati points at people who are ‘sleeping’. Nine makeshift beds were surrounded by a two brick tall white wall. Bodies lay on them with sarongs and blankets covering their heads. I squeezed her hand as I realise they have not survived. Two Danish tourists come to sit with us and we exchange stories. They had just arrived, stepped out of the boat and onto the paper white sand. People ran towards them screaming, ‘ there are people that are dying’. He then looked at me and shrugged his shoulders. The locals are the first to leave the island, fighting one another to get onto fishing boats which sunk under their weight. People desperately fished others out of the water that was filling up the boats. My Dad came running up the beach. There was a rescue boat that had agreed to take all six of us - no luggage. I threw open my suitcase and stared at my belongings, an entire wardrobes worth of clothes and my beloved makeup collection. I realise within seconds everything is replaceable and grab items with memories attached. The rescue boat is full of hospital beds carrying the injured and the lady next to me is weeping. An hour later and we are in Lombok. I walk along the dock and my legs don’t seem to be working properly. A woman walks alone sobbing and I walk over and pull her into my arms, and we hold onto each other trembling violently. She looked into my eyes and told me she was going to

try and stay in Lombok for a few days. It dawns on me that my world at home is still intact. I was able to leave all this devastation behind, these people would never be able to escape it, this week would be ingrained in their community forever. A police coach takes us to the airport, the devastation in Lombok is appalling. Buildings upon buildings have been reduced to rubble. A call comes in from a friend who is worried sick, at the sound of his voice I start sobbing, I tell him I don’t know how much longer I can cope. For three and a half days I was unaware if I would make it to the next.

Our only option is to stay at the airport for the night. It’s swarming with people and there is dirt and squalor everywhere, but it oozes the luxury of safety. I wander around barefoot due to lack of shoes, gathering bits of cardboard for us to sleep on. That night I lie on the airport floor, paralysed by fear as the whole world rocked back and forth, yet nobody moved. There were two more earthquakes that night. The first one caused the airport to erupt in shrieking and running. For the second earthquake, I was too exhausted to move. I wake up on the morning of my seventeenth birthday, on the floor of an airport, amazed that I had made it this far. We are able to get a flight for the afternoon, a huge long haul airplane lifts 300 tourists on the 40 min journey to safety. My legs buckle beneath me as I walk slowly along the hot tarmac. Sobbing, I call my friends and family. I was finally able to tell them that I am safe. I was alive. Although it would take me a long time before I was able to convince myself that. I don’t think I will ever be quite the person I was before that day. A piece of my heart will always remain in Lombok. I will always grieve for the 555 souls who took their last breaths under the rubble of their homes, schools and mosques. Those who were robbed of their sisters, brothers, parents, friends by the 6.9 magnitude earthquake that hit Northern Lombok at 19:46 on the 5th August.

The Underpass -News- 2018 - 2019

Some Questions of Evolution and Culture / Natural Selection versus 21st Century Gene-Editing by Angela Draghi, U6

n ‘On the Origin of Species’ Darwin writes, “natural selection, as we shall hereafter see, is a power incessantly ready for action, and is immeasurably superior to man’s feeble efforts”. Indeed, evolution is far more potent than the rudimentary cross-breeding of plants and animals as was done in the 1800s — but is this concept applicable today? Cultural-niche construction influences the trajectory of human evolution in a process known as gene-culture coevolution. Many organisms undergo niche-construction, but it is culture which makes human niche-construction so powerful. The migration and dispersal of Homo Sapiens from East Africa over the last 100,000 years would not have been possible without their ability to adapt to ever-changing climates and respond to ecological challenges. Through cultural-niche construction, Homo Sapiens have drastically altered their environment and created dynamic selective pressures, which influence allele frequencies in the human gene pool. A well-known example of gene-culture coevolution — supported by geneticists — include Yam cultivators in West Africa. Clearing forest areas to grow crops and increase standing water surface area, this tribe provided larger breeding grounds for mosquitoes, increasing the prevalence of malaria. The forest clearing behaviour of the yam cultivators transformed a weak selection pressure into a dispersed and robust system; individuals with the heterozygous form of the sickle cell allele became more likely to survive and reproduce. Thus, the heterozygous sickle cell allele became prominent in the human gene pool over generational time. This highlights the importance of culture in human niche-construction, as the agricultural skills of the yam cultivators would not have been invented by each generation of cultivators de novo. The evolution of lactose tolerance is another example of gene-culture coevolution; the Harvard Medical School discovered a one million basepair haplotype found in 80% of Europeans. The lactase gene, included in this haplotype, endows an individual with lactose tolerance. With the introduction of cattle as a novel food source, this haplotype came under intense selective pressure during the domestication of cattle five-thousand years ago. In fact, regions with a high incidence of lactose tolerance correlate with areas of great cattle domestication.

But what these examples reflect is the cultural inheritance of an environment-modifying human activity persisting for enough generations to generate a stable natural selection pressure — influencing the human genetic evolution. The modification of the human germline is the epitome of gene-culture coevolution. Culture has given Homo Sapiens a more nuanced understanding of the world around them, up to the point they have been able to dissect complex molecular systems and exploit them. More recently, scientists have genetically modified human embryos using the CRISPR-Cas9 genome editing complex. CRISPR is a bacterial adaptive immune system used to combat invading bacteriophages. Using parts of DNA from invading viruses, bacteria create DNA segments called CRISPR arrays, which enable them to remember and locate viral DNA. If the viruses attack again, the bacteria produce RNA segments from the CRISPR arrays to target the viruses’ DNA. Over the past five years, French biochemists Jennifer Doudna and Emmanuelle Charpentier have transformed CRISPR to a system for genome editing, by establishing Cas9 as a nuclease able to be programmed with a single ‘guide RNA’. This creates a double-stranded break in the desired locus, allowing for the insertion of a new genetic code. Germline genome editing (GGE) is on the opposite end of biological evolution in the bio-editing spectrum — it combines unnatural selection with non-random mutations, where Homo Sapiens can alter allele frequencies in the human gene pool as they wish. However, GGE can also be used to eliminate single gene disorders such as cystic fibrosis and late-onset prevailing conditions like Huntington’s disease. There have been many propositions as to why we age and die. One such proposal has been put forward by Medawar who states that late-acting deleterious genes are numerous and stable in the human gene pool due to the very fact that they are late-acting. The lethal effect of these genes will only commence once the body has had time to reproduce. According to British biologist Peter Medawar, senile decay is only a by-product of the accumulation in the gene pool of late-acting lethal and semi-lethal genes. Thus, lifespan is not selected directly but as a by-product of selection for lifetime reproductive performance; our genome has evolved to maximise our reproduction, but not our longevity and health after the reproductive stage. GGE could alter this and radically extend the human life-span by targeting late-acting deleterious

The Underpass -Commentary- 2018 - 2019

genes and effectively reversing how evolution has shaped our genome, and new research suggests GGE could be used to increase resistance to cancer by increasing the number of TP53, a highly unstable gene activated during cellular stresses. Although GGE seems to provide an enormous degree of control over our species’ evolution, microbial agents will continue to influence our evolution. Viruses and bacteria have already had a huge impact on our evolution, with endogenous retroviruses comprising five to eight percent of the human genome. Indeed, there is an evolutionary ‘arms race’ between pathogens and humans. Pathogens diminishing reproductive potential, drive selection on genetic variants that affect resistance, and, via culturalniche construction, humans have developed antibiotics which increase the rate of survival to bacterial infections. Yet, pathogens evolve resistance to such drugs and grow molecular systems to overcome human resistance. Presently, we are not in control of the evolution of our species. Gene-Culture Coevolution is not a direct form of control, and in almost all countries, GGE is only permissible for research purposes. Even if GGE becomes clinically available, regulation and accessibility will dictate whether — as a species — we are in control of our evolution. If GGE is not ubiquitously available and available to the efficacy to everyone, only a select few will be able to take control of their development but not the human species itself. And if everyone were to modify their genome and the genome of their offspring as they please, we would not be evolving in the same direction. Even when GGE becomes available for clinical use, the ‘arms race’ between pathogens and Homo Sapiens will remain, and it is not certain whether GGE or any other form of genome editing will be able to overcome such influences.

The Underpass -Commentary- 2018 - 2019

A new way to think about food: Modernist Cuisine by Maxime Seknadje, U6 What should you do if you really like cooking and you’re willing to spend a few million pounds?

onsider buying a warehouse and transforming it into a kitchen lab to create and test nearly 250 recipes to use in your own cookbook. However, chances are you don’t have a few million pounds lying around. Even if you did, it would be hard to match what Nathan Myhrvold accomplished in writing the piece de resistance that looked at cooking in an entirely new light, Modernist Cuisine: The Art and Science of Cooking. What should you do if you really like cooking and you’re willing to spend a few hundred pounds? Consider buying a £360 copy of Modernist Cuisine, possibly the most influential (and definitely the most expensive) cookbook of the twenty-first century. The term “modernist” or “modernist cuisine” in the title doesn’t refer to any set of dishes in particular but is rather defined as a “cultural... revolution” encompassed by two fundamental principles. The first principle is to always work toward executing dishes in technically innovative and exact ways while achieving exquisite unmatched taste. The second principle is to advance the culinary arts by finding new ways to apply analytical thinking skills and creativity to the art of cuisine. In other words, Modernist Cuisine is not an ordinary cookbook filled with only recipes and photos, but rather, the to me serves as an encyclopedia or a roadmap to a new, unprecedented way of thinking about food. In five hardcover volumes (History and Fundamentals, Techniques and Equipment, Animals and Plants, Ingredients and Preparations, and Plated-Dish Recipes) and a spiral bound recipe booklet small enough to keep with you in the kitchen, Modernist Cuisine covers everything imaginable. Over the course of the 2500 pages, it delves into topics from why you should be cooking sous-vide, to the science behind gels and foams, to a recipe for choucroute royale (described in the book as a “heart winter feast of sauerkraut slowly cooked with onions, Alsatian Riesling, and goose or duck fat”). But, the most impressive part of the book is, without question, the photography, which features some of the most memorable and unique food photographs ever captured. Imagine slicing a wok in half, while you were steaming broccoli, and seeing exactly what was

happening, down to every little droplet of steam. Or doing the same to the barbeque on which you’re cooking burgers and examining the sizzling oil and crackling fire. In some unfathomable way, that’s precisely what’s photographed for 36 of the images in the book. These images are used to illustrate topics throughout the book as Modernist Cuisine explores the in-depth science of different food preparations and the culinary history behind them. The attention to detail in Modernist Cuisine draws from the analytical skills Myhrvold developed through his own career path. After attending UCLA at the age of 14, he attained a net worth of nearly 650 million dollars as Microsoft’s chief technology officer. During his time at Microsoft, he took a temporary leave of absence to move to France and earn his culinary degree at the prestigious La Varenne cooking school, where he partnered with Chris Young and Maxime Bilet - colleagues of fellow Latymerian Heston Blumenthal. Eventually, Myhrvold’s love for cooking won out, and he left Microsoft to found Intellectual Ventures Laboratory, a company that combines his love of cooking and food photography. He desperately wanted to find a book on sous vide cooking, and when he couldn’t, he decided to write his own. To realise his vision, he built The Cooking Lab, a warehouse in Wahington, which later became dedicated to testing and perfecting all of the content published in Modernist Cuisine. The Cooking Lab published Modernist Cuisine at Home, a book perfect for the home chef who might not have the money to purchase the full six volume version (or the crazy conceptions used to actually recreate the recipes). As such an ardent admirer of Nathan Myhrvold, I hesitate to belittle his masterpiece by calling it merely a book, or a by suggesting that it is not worth the £360 price tag. The work has earned its title as one of the most influential and noteworthy cookbooks of the twenty-first century - its depth in research and stunning photography make it unlike any other work out there. However, the exorbitant price tag for a new set is out of reach for most cooks. Luckily you can view the book at the British Library. The rich secrets are definitely worth the price, or at the very least, the trip to Euston Road.

The Underpass -Arts- 2018 - 2019

The Famous Five Take Christmas by Melissa Manley, U6

he splendid spread prepared by mother lay on the table; marmite sandwiches and lashes of ginger beer. It was a spiffing job really, Anne and Aunt Fanny the leading housewives of Dorset. Ceremoniously, Quentin had retreated back into his study not to be disturbed apparently he had some important business to attend to. They were definitely prepared for the trip to London to see the Christmas lights, even if the scowling George thought there had already been quite enough patriarchal assumptions for one day. All the children would normally have been covered up in their duffle coats, but instead, because of the glorious global warming that that enveloped England, it was a sizzling twenty-two degrees that October morning, and coats would simply be unnecessary. As they, and of course Timmy, waited for the train to steam in, Julian was simply thrilled to find the Virgin Trains were running on time, with only a modest delay of 25 minutes. “Timely by recent standards” said George. Anne agreed submissively. Timmy, accordingly, nodded his head to agree with his master, before Aunt Fanny called him back into the car to go home. When they arrived in the metropolis, television camera crews were out on the streets getting ready for the turning on the lights. The theme of this year’s Christmas lights was In The Jungle - a stark contrast from the previous years of Pocahontas and the demure Frozen. George reflected. “Julian, my dear fellow, I don’t remember the jungle as a part of the gospels. Was that before or after the Annunciation?” Julian did not feel the need to dignify this with a response. The crowd was already gathering. Anna daren’t say it, but she began to wonder whether the circus would make an appearance, she loved the elephants. There would be no better way to celebrate Christmas. All of a sudden Anne shrieked, she noticed out the corner of her eye that the statue of Mary and the three queens was starting to move. These drag queens were by far the best dressed in the crowd; one was holding a Jo Malone diffuser, the other a Bitcoin, and the last a bottle of Neal’s Yard massage oil. Yet apart from these four kindly folk, they had all been rather underwhelmed by the recent Christmas decorations. Harrods had taken an unusual rendering of the nativity scene, in light of concerns around the promotion of teenage pregnancy in the cult of the Virgin Mary, and celebrating the new heterosexual civil partnerships, the owners had decided to display a not-so-virginal Mary and less-than-innocent Joseph in the midst of their partnership ceremony. Then, the countdown began, the four began to listen to the rumour wheel at work. Perhaps this year Her Majesty The Queen would turn on the lights, or even a member of The Beatles. As the crowd began to count down the Christmas ball descended and out came last year’s X-Factor winner. The crowd would have grown had they not been so tired of waiting for the lights to turn on. Christmas was really starting to be all sales and show and less fun. Then, the lights came on, the crowd gasped, people took photos for Instagram, and went home to their vegetarian supplemented Christmas dinner. George thought it was best that they returned next year because after all Christmas was the best holiday of the year. They all agreed.

The Underpass -Arts- 2018 - 2019

A Sea Prayer: Reflections on a Talk by Khaled Hosseini by Katie Wrench, U6

pair of last minute tickets found two dark seats in the corner of the Royal Festival Hall, a stone’s throw away from the author of A Thousand Splendid Suns, The Kite Runner, And the Mountains Echoed and, most recently, Sea Prayer. Khaled Hosseini spoke about the power of storytelling and spoken word in a scintillating discussion with Razia Iqbal in late August, centring around why and how he wrote his latest novel. He describes Sea Prayer as a tribute to Alan Kurdi and the millions of refugees unable to find security of any size or shape, walking for miles from countries they can no longer call their home. It is an illustrated novel, written in Hosseini’s classically impassioned and deeply intimate style, in the form of a prayer a father whispers to his son on a beach, minutes before the arrival of a boat filled with similar refugees to take them on a journey to a place they might never reach. He placed emphasis on the fact that in 2017, refugees had a 1/42 chance of dying on a journey, whereas in 2018 this raised to 1/18. Hosseini, in Sea Prayer, manages to pick apart the flash and quantitative masses of the newspapers and write instead about the individual, giving them a dignity he feels they will never receive with incredible sensitivity and beauty. When asked about how he reacted to the heart-breaking picture of Kurdi in 2015, he replied that he struggled to comprehend that the boy would never feel his father’s arms again, never share his toys with his friends. Hosseini wondered how Alan smiled when he saw his mother, which his favourite fruit was, his significant memories — ‘now unknown things, but what made him unique and alive’. He saw the picture through the eyes of a father, whose little boy was being plucked lifeless off a beach by a stranger for the whole world to see. It was, for him, a ‘pricking’ of the conscience of the world. As an ambassador for the UNHCR, Hosseini has experienced first hand the grief of the people whom he eternalizes in his writing. Visiting Kabul, he found this sense of deep regret — that he can never do enough for the people, and his overriding helplessness in the face of global tragedy. Despite this, Hosseini remains ever inspired by individuals he meets. He surmises; ‘I learned to put myself in the shoes of the people I met’, and that it would be ‘impossible to not be transformed’, focussing on the moral ties

between humankind than the racial, gendered or social dislocations predisposed by war, or, as he articulates it, the ‘commonalities [which] dwarf our differences’. After visiting a community centre in Pakino for young African refugees and listening to a woman relate her story of her family’s unity overseas, Hosseini was blown away by ‘generosity, kindness and compassion’. He reminded us of his own past as a refugee, living in France and then Britain as an Afghan immigrant, and also the sheer quantity of refugees living in the modern world today, in order to emphasise the need of rejection of the dismissive detachment from them. In Lebanon, for example, ⅙ of people walking the streets is a refugee. Hosseini describes the transition to becoming a refugee as sudden, alarming and traumatic. It’s ‘a flip of a coin. You want to know what a refugee looks like? Look in the mirror, it could be you. It could be your life uprooted in an instant’. Although Hosseini does not derogate what he calls the ‘physical numbing’ of the modern Western world, where news is filtered ‘biased’ through screen, smoke and mirrors, he remains anguished at the lack of support when ‘people are dying on our doorsteps’. ‘What choice do we have’? Hosseini ended on a poignant quote by Hafes: ‘I wish I could show you alone in the dark the external light of your own being’, a message to both the suffering peoples and those who work to help them. A short extract from Sea Prayer: Your mother is here tonight, Marwan, with us, on this cold and moonlit beach, among the crying babies and the women worrying in tongues we don’t speak. Afghans and Somalis and Iraqis and Eritreans and Syrians. All of us impatient for sunrise, all of us in dread of it. All of us in search of home. I have heard it said we are the uninvited. We are the unwelcome. We should take our misfortune elsewhere. But I hear your mother’s voice, over the tide, and she whispers in my ear, ‘Oh, but if they say, my darling. Even half of what you have. If only they saw. They would say kinder things, surely.’

The Underpass -Arts- 2018 - 2019

The Kite Runner Reviewed by Liza Poliakova, Year 9

poignant, gripping and emotional story of betrayal and redemption, The Kite Runner had me moved and thrilled throughout the believable and vividly described plot. This book is very complex and can be looked at from different perspectives. On one hand, the book tells us of a beautiful country ravaged by war, Afghan immigrants in America and teaches us a great deal about Afghanistan’s history and culture. However, there are core messages hidden behind Hosseini’s declamatory writing - a universal meaning the reader receives no matter the culture or context. This novel looks at the main character, Amir, and how he deals with a secret in his past and how that secret shaped who he became. After not standing up for his brother-like friend, Hassan, years of guilt and longing for redemption cast a dark shadow on Amir and his life. Not only does this book eloquently teach us the significance of loyalty and friendship through believably constructed characters but this debut novel brings fresh humanity to a country trapped in political turmoil. I love this book as Khaled intricately crafts characters which are flawed in numerous ways yet their heart and willpower drives them to make good choices and recover mistakes from their past. The media often portrays Afghanistan as a country with no hope for the future yet humane and simple actions from people like Amir, Hassan and Baba teach us that good can always grow and blossom. For me the lyrical style of words written fluently emphasise the ease at which I read the book. I barely remembered when I finished the book, I just did, only left with a powerful message and a throbbing heart. This is probably one of my favourite books that I have ever read. I urge everyone to read this novel at least once and I would recommend it 14+ as some of the scenes are truly heart-breaking and haunting.

Lord of the Flies Reimagined by Marko Trandafilovski, Year 10

The boys’ descent into savagery is abruptly checked by an unexpected arrival on the island.

he strode from the tent, flanked by two mouse-like creatures with blond hair and expressions of abject terror. She towered above them, and as she turned her face towards him, they scuttled behind her inconspicuously, as though attempting to hide themselves from the iron gaze now fixed upon him. Her glare was intense and unyielding, her face long and thin, with her nostrils turned up as if in the presence of an unpleasant odour. Her red hair shone, reflecting the sunlight into his eyes, and blinding him as he stared upwards. He made some feeble effort of speech, but the girl cut across him with the precision of a sharpened blade. “Whatever you may have to say to me, it can certainly not come anywhere near the importance of what I have to say to you.” “You must keep in mind that we have but one priority; that is escape from this uncouth hole. Until then, we shall need workers, and laymen; people to gather food and lay the foundations of a signal flame. I shall expect you and those with you to take such responsibilities upon yourselves.” She then turned around with surprising speed, the movement casting sand into his eyes. For all her ruined clothes and disarranged hair, she had spoken with impregnable imperiosity and unassailable authority, and he found himself unable to follow the receding figure back to her place of repose.

The Underpass -Arts- 2018 - 2019

Croatia

by Mateo Puljic, Year 8

My legs ached. Dirt was dusted all over my lower body. I groaned, and wiped the trickling sweat from my brow. How far did this seemingly endless path extend? Why had my family chosen to take it in the first place?

t was, or had at least started as, a normal day in Dubrovnik, Croatia. My family visited every summer for a large part of the holiday, therefore we knew the city, and our daily routine there, like the back of our palm. This particular day, the temperatures had soared past forty degrees, and, as we could not bear to bake in the furnace of heat at the beach for any longer, my father decided to show my younger brother, mother and me a different route home.

Following my father, we headed away from the packed beach and along a lonely, cobbled pathway which took us all the way around the city. After twenty long minutes, tiredness was already starting to secure its firm grasp on us, and we all groaned as we set our eyes upon a mountain of a few hundred steps. They climbed upwards so high that I was forced to crane my neck to view where the staircase ended. I raised my eyebrows when I noticed that it actually blended into a thicket of trees and bushes. We started our way up, every step triggering a throb of pain in our thighs, every glance up reminding us of the sheer size of this climb. The seconds crawled by. The heat started taking its toll on me; I felt dizzy and off-balance as I laboured onwards. My heart pumped uncontrollably, threatening to tear through my ribcage like an enraged criminal shaking the bars of his jail cell. My surroundings blurred for a split second, but as my vision cleared once more, I noticed that, along with the rest of my family, I had reached the final step. I surged forward and triumphed over it. We looked around, observing where this colossal escalation had taken us. We found ourselves in the shadowy depths of a forest. A forest in the Croatian mountains. Earth and rocks were scattered beneath our flip-flops; massive trees loomed overhead, forming vast shadows with their dense leaves and branches. The scorching sun which had been gleefully watching us burn beforehand was now failing to send its most powerful rays of heat through the thick canopy above. My father revealed a tucked-away path, signalling that we should follow it. Again, the route was steep and raised, forcing our legs through another period of unbearable suffering. My family took the hill on, occasionally having to step over logs, or even kick away large rocks that were lying here and there, showing that this path had not been used in a long while. The rise of the ground stubbornly refused to stop, the green mountain stretched upwards and upwards, the dried mud below my feet crawled between my toes. We all had the trees to thank for casting a huge shadow over us, shielding us from the merciless wrath of the sun. My legs ached. Dirt was dusted all over my lower body. I groaned, and wiped the trickling sweat from my brow. How far did this seemingly endless path extend? Why had my family chosen to take it in the first place? These were the questions that bubbled in my mind, while frustration threatened to spill over. I felt as if I was turning a page in my book of knowledge of Croatia, uncovering a secret about the country that I thought I knew every corner of. Before, a clear image of wonderful beaches and sunny views had popped up at the slightest mention of Croatia; now I realised that a different exhibit was also on display, an exhibit that my family and I were being allowed a rare glimpse of. I wondered why this pathway was so unappreciated - the streets of Dubrovnik could be littered, polluted and packed with people, while this forest route was so beautifully untouched. I snapped away from my deep thought to find my brother moaning next to me. Unsurprisingly, the leg pain had not ceased. I blocked out his voice, and listened carefully for any signs of civilization below. I gasped when I heard the distant noise of beeping cars. I knew nothing of what lay in front of me, little of what lay behind me, but it was comforting to be reminded of the city that lay not far below me. I sensed the journey through the forest coming to an end. The steering hilly path began to dip, and my family heaved a sigh of relief in unison. The pain in our thighs gradually disappeared, while the honking of car-horns and the bustling noises from the major city below grew louder and louder. We hurried down the muddy forest slope. Sure enough, it eventually guided us to a familiar main road. Smiles creeped across the faces of my family; never had we been gladder to step out onto this street. I looked ahead, and caught sight of the vast, open sea. Despite the steep path, inconvenient forest floor scattered with rocks and logs, and the unnerving feel in the depths of the dark woods. We had entered back from our adventure in the shadow of Croatia. And, as we headed down the familiar route home, we all agreed on what an adventure it had been...

The Underpass -Arts- 2018 - 2019

Walking the Streets of London by Charlotte Crozier, Year 9 In the style of Zadie Smith’s novel ‘NW’ (2012): Chapter 10 – ‘From A to B redux’

ellow brick houses adorned with flourishing wisteria lined the sides of the street. The towering chestnut trees sway gently in the warm summer breeze softly rustling their emerald leaves. Blue doors, black doors, white doors, roses, daisies and petunias. Dappled light fell delicately onto the pavement seeping between branches and leaves. From the pub came the clashing of pint glasses, cheerful, drunken shouts and the faint yells of an agitated chef from the kitchen. As King Street approaches, the obnoxious honking of horns, the rev of a sports car and distant sirens became audible, shattering the peace as a hammer does glass. Motorcycles swerve in and around cars, only inches away from an undesirable fate. The pavements are scattered with dried gum in a way that might have inspired Jackson Pollock. Leaflets for Gifford’s Circus, learning the English language and baby ballet classes are plastered to the walls of an empty shop. It has been deserted for months; the faded red brick is beginning to crumble, the rent is too high now, much too high. As the automatic doors for Sainsbury’s slide open cold air rushes past me, gently stroking my cheek. The familiar ‘meep mop’ sound of the dry cleaner’s automated bell rings out as a woman steps onto the street carrying a pile of freshly pressed linen shirts. Two men in business suits scurry past, speaking in hushed tones about the stock market and when BitCoin is most likely to crash. A woman pushing a buggy sighs, irritated, and stops by the side of the road to retrieve the Peppa Pig toy that had been flung carelessly to the side of the street. The bitter aroma of coffee floods the air, seeping into any uncontaminated areas it can reach. A man with dark skin sits at a stall labelled ‘phone and laptop repairs’ interfering with the circuit board of a fidgeting boy’s smashed laptop. The boy shuffles from one foot to the next and glances cautiously around, scanning the bustling street for something or someone. Two young women saunter past, one with a Chanel bag draped arrogantly over her shoulder, the other, it would seem, has just walked out of a Gucci magazine. Hair falling flawlessly over her shoulder, flaunting her Gucci printed t-shirt and classic golden Gucci belt, six-inch platform heels clattering noisily on the grey pavements. An old man was sitting hunched over, eyes never straying from the ground, on the corner of the road. In front of him a battered cardboard sign covered in red felt tip writing and a takeaway paper cup filled with only coppers. Two cars honk at each other before one aggressively lurches forward, clipping the side of the car in front. A hand emerges from the car window and gestures angrily, shouts of fury flood the streets. I turn the corner briskly, darting in and out among the gathering spectators. The odour of fish and raw meat take over my senses as I walk, trying hard not to inhale, past the butchers. The heavy clatter of solid metal wheels overhead and echoing booms, the tube demanding to be heard over the hustle and bustle of the streets and then… green. Children soaring around with their arms outstretched, running free and happy. The sweet stench of freshly mowed grass lingers in the air. Daisies cover the grass like a blanket, little white heads dancing in the breeze, enjoying their freedom - as I was mine.

The Underpass -Arts- 2018 - 2019

An Interview with Gold GB Powerlifting Finalist, Fran Harrison (U6) Q: How long have you been powerlifting? A: I started powerlifting in January 2018, after one and a half years of Olympic style weightlifting and two years of rowing. Q: Can you give us an idea of what your training entails and how many times a week you do it? A: I train 5-6 times a week. Training involves squat day, bench day, and deadlift day, which are three compound lifts in powerlifting, and then I also do an upper and lower assistance day. Q: How far have you taken powerlifting, to GB competitions, championships and so on? A: So I competed originally in a novice competition, just to understand how powerlifting works as they’d have the refs but also tell you how to improve and that type of thing. Then I went to my first qualifier and I qualified for both the A and B standard of totals (which is composed of your squat, bench, and deadlift) so I qualified for both British finals in November and world championships in Hungary in September with the GB team - where I competed in the under 67.5 kilo weight class in the age category of T2, and I won! Q: What is your favourite thing about the sport? A: Inclusivity. I think there’s such a variety of different people from different backgrounds who compete in powerlifting, and it’s not a judgemental sport in regards to your appearance, or your decisions in terms of drug use. In terms of steroids we have an untested and tested federation which sort of leads to a perfect knowledge, and that’s better because it doesn’t mean you’re cheating if you take the steroids; you just compete in the untested federation so everyone knows about it. Also, because it’s a sport where you’re with a team but you’re not directly competing together, you can support everyone even if they’re your competitors, but at the same time it’s only you on the platform and it is all down to you whether you make the lift or not, and no one can help you in that moment so if you fail then you just get up and try harder, and if you succeed then that’s down to you as well. Q: Final question, how do you think competition and dedication to the sport has affected your identity and how you view yourself as a person? A: I think that powerlifting makes me a better person. I think that powerlifting has a positive impact on everyone, but also especially for women. It does empower me as a woman, because there’s a lot of people out there who won’t accept that a woman has muscles, and that a woman is strong and that’s something that needs to change. I feel like powerlifting is a part of that progression and that this is 2018, and we shouldn’t be telling people what they can and can not look like and who they can and can not be. Maybe that’s just my ideal of beauty, and maybe I like to be physically and mentally strong, but like I said before, it helps me be a better person - and that’s all!

The Underpass -Sport- 2018 - 2019

Why Everyone Should Try Rowing by Louis Davis, Year 9

L Why Schools should promote rugby, not ban it by Tommy Watson, Year 11

n appeal to ban rugby, specifically the tackling, appears on the BBC news website about once a year. Too hastily do they forget that taking the tackling out of rugby is like taking the ball away. A focus on the quality of tackling, rucking and scrummaging will root out the avoidable injuries. Schools look to teach proper tackle technique at an early stage before allowing players to move forward in the game. These attempts they seem to go unnoticed. Often a group of worried, disgruntled or perhaps angry parents group together and along with some statistics and scientific research present their case for why tackling in rugby incites violence, is harmful to children’s developing bodies and minds and should be banned without a moment to ponder. However, there is little means of quantifying leadership, teamwork or courage to which rugby is built upon. Though the sport carries an obvious risk, a coccyx planted deep into the November ground, or (if you never learnt to tackle) a patella cracking across the temple, as a player with a fantastic list of injuries, ranging from two concussions and a cut fractions above the eye all the way down to broken and bloodied toes reminiscent of a Victorian school boy. I can safely say without the physical and mental challenges the game possess (which incurs these injuries) the game would cease to enrapture, agonise and enthral those who play. The ethos of the game far outranks that of football and the respect given to not only the referee but also the opposing players, especially on a professional level, symbolises the phrase ‘gentle giants’. Spend 80 minutes at Wood Lane on a Saturday morning and you may only hear fruitful language, you may only see mud and blood and you may only smell teenage boy at its worst, however, I advise you to stay a second longer and witness the shaking hands, and congratulatory tones. Despite a match only lasting 80 minutes, the friendship built upon a single match or even a single pass can last for far longer. The immense pride and satisfaction after a hard-fought match is like no other feeling and makes you want to do it all again!

ast year, I started my rowing career and now it is a fundamental part of my life at Latymer. I had known for a while that I wanted to start rowing as my top sport. I was E team for Rugby and D team for Football, as well as the fact that I already had had some rowing experience the summer before. Unfortunately that ended with a blade to the eye and a lot of blood but nonetheless, my wish to go back out onto the river was to be fulfilled that year. Flashback to me a year ago, happily doing three or four training sessions a week. For me, rowing was and still is a way to relax, unwind and take my mind off what homework was due the next day. Winter term sessions helped me improve my running from all of the 5k jogs to Craven Cottage and back whereas Summer term sessions allowed for a relaxing row, basking in the sun. From octos, to quads, to doubles and singles in Canterbury. The steady progression easily becomes natural when you do rowing throughout the year. Two ergos a week as well as the occasional regatta with a 5:30 morning start is all part of the joy of year 9 rowing. After who knows how many sessions, you could trace the route taken on games days blindfolded. Just 3 or so kilometres either side of the boathouse down the curves of the Thames heading towards Putney or Barnes Bridge becomes ingrained in memory, along with the freezing water splashing against your back as you aim to reach your target. Just as with all sports, there is the chance for competition. I managed to partake in many heads and regattas in year 9, including ones in Marlow, just outside the boathouse in Hammersmith and even at Eton Dorney (the lake used in the Olympics) a few times. There were some where we triumphed and others where we just wanted to go home to escape the cold and mud. It’s all part of the experience though and they are still great fun to partake in. Sometimes we even almost beat the enemy across the river (unfortunately we never did). Thanks to rowing, my strength has grown proportional to my confidence on the water and around school. I thoroughly recommend at least trying rowing in year 9 to all of the year 7s and 8s.

The Underpass -Sport- 2018 - 2019

Latymer Life Highlights! #Livia - Year 10, “School lunch”

#Mrs Temple, “Seeing my form group coming back after they’ve been to uni”

#Hick - Year 8, “The late starts on a Wednesday”

#Izzy - Year 10, “The Summer Busking”

#Aary - Year 8, “Trying to climb into a rubbish bin”

#Alexia - Year 10, “The cookies at break”

#Vitto - Year 10, “The brownies when they were cheaper!”

#Freddie - Year 8, “skipping the lunch queue”

#Enrico - Year 10, “When I didn’t have this much rowing training!”

#Grace - Year 10, “Being able to express myself and have opinions”

#Arina - Year 7, “I saw someone sitting on a bin talking about Gucci sliders”

#Cara - “Getting in/doing the 11+”

#Gabriel - Year 9, ”Completing the Google surveys”

#MrMaxted, “tip-top colleagues and enlivening conversations” 54

The Underpass -News- 2018 - 2019