Tuesday, 17 January 2012
It's a Girl!
Earlier today, my brave and beautiful wife gave birth to our daughter, Elisabeth Jeanne Marie-Antoinette Craven, weighing in at 3.2 kg (about 7 lbs 2 oz). Baby and mother are doing well.
To add some size to this article I will take the time to explain the significance behind her names.
She takes her first name after St. Elizabeth Seton. This is meaningful to us on many levels: As the first American-born saint to be canonized, the name calls attention to my American roots. As a convert from Episcopalianism, she shares more in common with me than just her nationality, and I am fascinated by the many parallels between her life and that of the later Bl. John Henry Newman. 
As a teacher, she also shares an important trait with Emilie, to say nothing of being a mother and daughter.
Her middle names have significance for both my family and Emilie's. Jeanne is the name of one of Emilie's great-grandmothers, and (in English as Jean), of my beloved paternal grandmother. Marie-Antoinette is the name of another of Emilie's great-grandmothers, who only left us a few years ago, having lived past a hundred. On my side, the name is that of my great-great-grandmother, whose father fought under Sherman in the Civil War.
Her parents and her older brother are both overjoyed at the arrival of the little lady, and are looking forward to getting to know her better in the days and months ahead!
One of the most impressive applications of the iPad, and the one that sold me on the tablet format the most when the device came out, was the digital comics application developed by Comixology (which also appears as single-brand apps under the Marvel, DC, etc. names). Being able to buy comics digitally was immediately interesting to me as an expatriate, and the similar form factor of the iPad made the reading experience feel largely the same—better, in fact, since the vibrant colours of the screen are richer than the newsprint of actual comic books.
This is a great book for introducing readers to the whole DC universe, and is well-drawn, funny, and well-written, too. The heroes are meeting for the first time (most of them shocked to discover that Batman is real), so there's really no background knowledge required to enjoy the book. It makes for an exciting read, gives you a lot of super-hero bang for you buck, and yet requires none of the background knowledge ensemble super hero titles usually do—you get the best of both worlds.
This is another one with no background required. Superman has just started appearing around Metropolis, and no one knows who or what he really is. He's a bit more like the Golden Age Superman, in terms of powers (if a tank shoots him in the stomach, he will get the wind knocked out of him, and go down). He's fighting city corruption, not intergalactic menaces, and the whole book has its feet on the ground a lot more than I necessarily expect from a Superman title.
I'm planning on sticking with this one, too, as I feel I should at least give it a few full story arcs before deciding on whether it's for me. Detective Comics, as its name implies, is a more involved book, and I don't think it's fair to judge it based on only a few issues. The first story arc is off to a great start, though—an intriguing new case involving the Joker. There's no reboot, here: characters like Batman, Alfred, Gordon, and the Joker are all already here, but the title does take the time to characterise each one, so that even if some are new to you, you are told who they are straight away. This is a far darker, gorier title than the first two, though, which are more family-friendly fare. The main Batman title has been getting rave reviews too, but I haven't seen it yet.
Robin now is Bruce Wayne's son, with whom he was only recently re-united, and with whom he has a somewhat strained relationship. (The original Robin is now called Nightwing, and stars in his own book.) This takes away the... questionableness of Batman and Robin's old relationship, and replaces it with one that, as a father, I can identify with right away. With so many Batman titles to chose from, one needs some kind of selection criteria to help decide which ones to read, and my interest in the father-son dynamic decided me for this one.
I heard a lot of great things about this after the launch, so I decided to give it a read. I am by no means an Aquaman fan, but part of the point of the book is that Aquaman is nobody's favourite super-hero. When he surprises a group of machine-gun toting bank robbers, once they realise it's Aquaman they burst out laughing: what's the guy who's power is talking to fish going to do to them? (Answer: kick their asses.)
One of the interesting thing about the new 52 is that, despite what I've described so far here, there are lots of titles that have nothing to do with superheros. Titles like All Star Western, Men of War, Swamp Thing, I, Vampire, and many others show that comic books are a great medium for science fiction, horror, suspense, war stories, and westerns as well. I think that this is pretty cool, and like to think that my tastes are more varied than just wanting to read about men in tights, but for one reason or another none of the 'alternative' titles really jumped out at me.
In actual fact, though, Oriel's small student body leads many people of all backgrounds to choose it, because of its friendliness and strong feeling of community. (And some women choose it precisely because it was the last to admit them!) The respect for Oxford traditions at Oriel is not so much a sign of conservatism as it is a recognition of the common desire of those at Oxford to live the university's unique experiences to the fullest. Showing up to formal hall in jeans and a t-shirt, which some colleges allow, cannot but cheapen the experience for everyone present. For me personally, the traditions and history of Oxford are key ingredients of what makes it great, just as much as the brilliant academics. Therefore it only made sense to select a college that would allow me to experience to the utmost all those things that make Oxford "Oxford".
than anything associated with its dominance in sport. 
If that were not fantastic enough as college trivia, Oriel was also the setting for Hugh Grant's first film, Privileged—I don't think you can get more
'typically Oxbridge' than that!
With three main quads, all different architecturally, the college buildings are varied and ample, without seeming too large or too small. The music room, pictured at left, is perhaps my favourite room in the college. The "secret passage" to O'Brian quad also helps give the college some character, as does the ample MCR, already quite large by traditional college standards, and recently enlarged by the addition of a study room on the floor directly above it.
Oriel also provided an outstanding library, holding over 100,000 volumes and open 24 hours a day. The college had multiple copies of all the textbooks I needed for my course. This meant that not only did I not have to buy any textbooks, but I was even able to check out one set, to keep in my room, while still keeping another full set in the library, so I could study at either location without having to carry any books around! That alone made a lot of my non-Oriel classmates pretty envious, I can tell you.
First, although Oriel today may have a reputation more for brawn than brains (by Oxford standards, anyway), in Victorian times it was acknowledged as the preëminent college intellectually (a title probably disputed now by Merton and St. John's), and this put it at the heart of the Tractarian movement, with E.B. Pusey, John Keble, and John Henry Newman all fellows of the college at that time. Since this was a period I studied extensively while at McGill, there was a considerable sentimental incentive to actually become a member of the college that sat at the centre of the "Oxford movement", the very place where the Tracts for the Times were written, and where Newman lived and rose to fame. Dining in the same hall he dined in, arguing with friends over some of the same topics he debated with his, and completing my journey following in the same steps he did, was a profoundly significant experience for me.
In my orientation as an MBA student, though, two other, very different, Oriel alumni stood out: Sir Walter Raleigh, and Cecil Rhodes. Indeed, more than any other degree an MBA is about learning to do, to achieve—not to be content with theories or knowledge for its own sake. Leadership ability, entrepreneurial spirit, and real-world results are what we want to get from our MBA experience, and the academic knowledge we gain is sought in order to facilitate and enable that. Raleigh and Rhodes are both figures whose lives may have been controversial, but not even their most vocal critics can deny that they were men of action, and impressive leaders. 
While many Oxford colleges have impressive chapels (New College, All Souls', and Exeter all spring to mind), Christ Church's "chapel" is actually the cathedral of the diocese of Oxford. Christ Church has produced more prime ministers than every other college put together—and is only two short, on its own, of the total number produced by the entire University of Cambridge. It is the favoured college of the aristocracy—although Japanese Crown Prince Naruhito attended Merton, which accordingly sees itself beset by Japanese tourists to this day. (King Abdullah of Jordan went to Pembroke, but Jordanian tourists are somewhat less commonly seen.) Like its sister college Trinity, Cambridge, Christ Church has long held the reputation as the "it" college, for those who feel the need to identify one.
The fact is that most students, once admitted, come to realise that their own college is "actually" the best! And as I will describe below, there are plenty of good reasons not to pick Christ Church as well.
As a college associated with wealth and connections, and with the high-ceilinged, wood panelled rooms of Peckwater Quad being the most luxurious student accommodation in the university, the House has a lot to recommend it. Despite this, I do not think I would have enjoyed being there. Studying at a tourist trap has real disadvantages.
(I've heard tales of students being surprised in their bathrobes by tourists, knocking on their door asking if they can take a picture of their room!) Also the enormous size of the college, I suspect, must detract from the sense of community. But of course I am coloured by my clear bias towards Oriel, and so inevitably find Christ Church lacking wherever it differs from my reference point.
In spite of all that, I count being at the black-tie GCR guest dinner, being served high table food in Christ Church's magnificent dining hall at the end of Trinity term, as one of the culminating moments of my Oxford adventure. Raising a glass of port, after a gourmet meal, to toast the Queen, in such an opulent, historical setting, among such distinguished company, truly was a defining Oxford experience.
St. Antony's is perhaps best known throughout the university for its lively social scene, capitalising on its diverse and international student body to organise themed bops such as Balkan Night, Latin American Party, and many others, that are widely attended by students from all over the university.
I originally wrote this article for my too-neglected 
Y-DNA testing tests sequences on the Y-chromosome, which is (of course) only present in males, and therefore every male's Y-chromosome-specific parts only come from his father. So, the mutations that mark different populations are only those present in the direct paternal ancestor.
So how far back are we talking about with this test? That's the second caveat: scientists are still debating a lot of this. It all depends on when the mutation that makes this haplogroup distinct from that haplogroup occurred, but knowing this is difficult, and the best scientific opinion could change a lot as this new field advances. So what I say now about R1b1b2a1a1d1* might be considered total bunk in fifty years, or even five.
In prehistory, then, this haplogroup is concentrated around Northern Europe, over a zone covering the north of the present-day Netherlands, Germany, and the south of Denmark. The tricky bit is that until after the end of the last Ice Age, there was a place called Doggerland, connecting Britain to the continent. Apparently it was a good place to hunt mastodon back then, but today it sits at the bottom of the North Sea! (There's one ancestral homeland I won't be visiting.) The significance of this is that, as Doggerland gradually filled in with water, some populations presumably ended up on the north shore, in Britain, and some on the south shore, in continental Europe—among the people who would become the Anglo-Saxons, and end up conquering Britain around AD 600 when the Romans left. So if the mutation occurred before Doggerland disappeared, we wouldn't know for sure whether our ancestor were a Briton or an Anglo-Saxon.
However, it is also quite possible that the mutation took place after Doggerland was already underwater. In this case, the native Britons would not have the R1b1b2a1a1d1* haplotype, and we would know that our ancestor, since he did have it, was an Anglo-Saxon. It is tempting to believe this version since it is more definite, and for that reason a lot of genealogists on the internet are likely to hold by it. Just remember that it might turn out to be inconclusive.
My own opinion, then, is that the Anglo-Saxon origin seems the most probable, but that is based on my limited understanding of the numbers of people involved in each population movement. I could be wrong about the probability, or even if I am right about that, our ancestor could fall in a minority case, and there is no way to know.
Unfortunately, because the university is named for the town, unlike Harvard and MIT, the more dishonest of these students come in order to say afterwards that they "studied at Oxford", which I find quite annoying. Most don't do this, of course—as 
Nowadays (perhaps because of the aforementioned misunderstanding of the whole collegiate system, but I hope not!) it hosts the largest number of international undergraduate students. On the graduate level, it is the only college with both graduates and undergraduates that does not accept MBA students, for reasons known only to them. (Not every college can accept students in every course, in fairness—and Univ has few graduate students to begin with, being overwhelmingly an undergraduate college.) So, while I can confirm that Univ has a great location, history, and beautiful architecture—I would say that, though, as architecturally it is the college that most resembles Oriel—I did not spend much time there while at Oxford. One society that I belonged to had some meetings there, and I did enjoy showing guests the 
All Souls' College
That alone is enough to cause any Oxbridge academic to daydream about one day becoming one of these élite fellows, who can devote themselves to their research and teaching in a fantastic, exclusive, and well-funded setting. The dream is all the more tantalising because of the way one becomes an All Souls' fellow: it is not through some hidden old boys' network that no ordinary mortal could ever dream of penetrating, a Crown appointment, or some other inaccessible method. No, to become an All Souls' fellow, you just need to pass a test.
All Souls' represents in many ways the quintessence of Oxford's élitist "carrot and stick" approach to running a university: When one visits the city as a tourist, one envies the students that can get inside the colleges. When one attends as a visiting student, one envies the privileges of the matriculated students. As a matriculated student, one envies the privileges of those that can dine at High Table. And, even those at High Table, envy those who can dine at All Souls'.
One of the staples of life in Oxford was the profusion of black-tie events, of which there are literally dozens every year, making owning one's own dinner jacket, studded shirt, and formal trousers a social necessity. A luxurious alternative to the dinner jacket (known Stateside as the tuxedo) is the smoking jacket—indeed, a tailored velvet smoking jacket is perhaps the most luxurious article of clothing a man can own. I recently debuted my own at a black tie dinner at 
These PPHs house religious members of their orders or other religious who wish to do research degrees at Oxford, as well as candidates for ordination, and laity reading relevant subjects.
Nuffield, then, is a small community of about seventy faculty and seventy-five postgraduate students, all engaged in research in the social sciences. This small size, narrow focus, and great wealth make Nuffield something of a dream location for those who want to do advanced research in economics, sociology, or political science. The college is located away on one edge of the university, near the railway station, and all in all gives off an aura of peaceful tranquility and a focus on research.
All in all then, Nuffield is a unique college, which to its clientele must seem to be an ideal offering. In addition, their food at formal hall is, in my opinion, the best in the university, and the dining hall is certainly unique—even if its austere grey architecture is somewhat reminiscent of a Stalinist mausoleum. It is a shame that so many students at Oxford are unaware of Nuffield, but that is to be expected given that it hosts so few researchers, has no boat club, and sits removed from most of the other colleges. Despite, or perhaps because of this, I am glad I took the time to explore their library, and felt very fortunate to have been able to dine there.
