Comment, Prose

Indices of the Soul

by Zixin Jiang Why is it said that the eyes are windows to the soul? One common interpretation is that our eyes reveal our innermost thoughts and emotions. There’s probably some truth to that; a person’s eyes can sometimes reveal whether they are lying, or faking a smile. However, a seasoned orator may be able […]

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Comment, Prose

A Word from the Editors: Soul

by Michael Angerer The need to identify the essential being of all things, the underlying truth hidden behind superficial appearances, seems to be an irresistible impulse; it is in any case certain that the concept of a soul, or a psyche, is among the oldest known to humanity, and among the most widespread. And yet, […]

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Humour, Prose

‘Dear Beary…’ [4]

by Beary McBearface Beary McBearface, treasured Oriel mascot and JCR staple, is here to help you with your troubles. In this column,  Beary will attempt to find solutions to your little college worries; trust him, he’s seen it all. All you need to do is email thepoorprint@oriel.ox.ac.uk with the subject line ‘Dear Beary’, and if you’re lucky your […]

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Prose, Reviews

Bandages: A Review

by Monim Wains Bandages is not a play that covers up or protects. It is designed to rip off the mask and question you directly. With an intense and emotional exploration of control, image, abuse and violence, Bandages will leave you genuinely disturbed and uncomfortable, which is exactly what it wants to do. The clearly heartfelt issues […]

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Poetry

The Rollercoaster

by Monim Wains A highlight of life for all that tried Everyone older remembered their ride ‘The best time of your life’, they sighed It looked so good every time I walked by Everyone getting off with a glint in their eye A hundred crazy stories that I wanted to try If only I could, […]

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Poetry

Dido, Queen of Carthage

by Juliet Butcher varium et mutabile semper femina (Aeneid IV.569-70) Whistle-wet and wind-whipped and smarting with salt, the air bursts lungs – clean lungs, lungs clear and full – and cuts, slicing quick across face, stinging stiff and garrotte-sharp like the cords of a ship, as she stands on the citadel and watches. Gleaming sky […]

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