Cappicade Crit.

Cappicade appears for this year with a new cover design well in keeping with the Extrav tradition—it is in the same effective colouring as that of 1944, with the accent on legs, and should have made a good selling cover; the design was by S. Wiley. The magazine is considerably larger than last year, 64 as against 48 pages, and has considerably more space devoted to advertising. I would hate to say that there is too much advertising in this magazine, but I do think that the absolute maximum has been attained. It must be borne in mind that Cappicade is not an advertising handbook with a few unsaleable pages filled with student nonsense, but a Capping magazine with advertisements included for purely financial reasons. Further, while the typography could not be expected to scale Beagleholian heights, some of it was rather more dreadful than need be, even within the limits of the particular printing press; and why not get someone to read the proofs—there were too many printing errors.

There were more original articles printed this year, which is most commendable—but why still this need for lifting illustrated jokes? I feel sure that there is enough talent in the College to produce a few funnies. Also—and there may be those who consider this heretical—I do think that jokes may be included in Cappicade when they are not bawdy, and although this may not have been the fault of the editors, the notices up at College specified bawdy.

Some of the articles in Cappicade were good—Cappicade News Service I considered particularly worthy of mention. The children's page also wins a place, and should be sent to Dorothy Dix, George Antheil and others who run children's pages. Mr. Meek's introduction, with that remarkable modesty already noted by the dailies, is good reading. I considered the Weir House auction and the grand VUC raffle well carried out even if in a spirit of strict disrespect.

Overall, despite this somewhat carping criticism, Cappicade has done well this year and makes up for occasional lack of subtlety by distinct and bounding good humour. A good job, and most certainly a paying one.

—M.C.C.