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—And there, towering above Salamanca Road, was a Student Union Building. Now what did it have in it? Well, that depends on the students. When I woke up, I rushed around and asked a few people.
On some things, there was complete unanimity:—a big caf, with room to swing a cat (which would not afterwards be put into the pies); three common rooms—well ventilated and sunlit—and, chiefly, a commodious common common room; a theatre for meetings, plays and film shows; and a well-equipped, high-roofed gym-cum-dance-hall.
Others had personal peculiarities. The 3rd-year Arts students wanted a Caf open in the mornings and the evenings so that he could natter over a cup of tea, if he felt like it. He wanted big windows in the common rooms to admire one of the world's finest views. He suggested that all clubs could have their own rooms,—as Salient has now.
The 5th-year Law Student wanted individual lockers, and furniture that was comfortable but capable of hard wear. Timidly we approached a sporting Exec member. He was enthusiastic and definite. "A 25-yard tepid pool, 3 feet deep. In the basement—get the freshers into the fresh water. And a Gym covering all one floor,—facilities for all gym work; and a good indoor basketball court."
The veteran Socialist Club member seemed cynical about the possibility of a building this side of the revolution, but he said he wanted a canteen—wet or dry, he wasn't fussy—to feed the hungry outside Caf hours.
The Charter Club man said he hadn't thought about it, but recommended a cupboard to keep our skeletons in, and a workshop "for making drama, extrav,—and Socialist Club demonstration—props."
A Science graduate was most emphatic about "No chapel or anything like that." More adequate changing rooms, and somewhere to meet people were his other pigeons.
Only protagonist for a lounge bar in the mixed common room was a female Arts graduate. She said it could sell "hard and soft drinks." She wanted the men's and women's common rooms much smaller than the mixed,—"Encourage them to get together." Her last brainwave was "A belfry to put our
A Science undergraduate suggested a sound-proof room for Extrav rehearsals. Another Arts grad wanted a co-op bookshop, and a Gym with padded walls.
"Co-op drugstores are popular In North America," said a nomadic Commerce graduate. He wanted lockers for all clubs, and rooms that were vandal-proof. "And what about a balcony-roof where we could sunbathe, and look lovingly at the mountains?"
One S.C.M. woman thought that asking for a chapel would be sectarian. Religious groups could use a theatre for their gatherings like anyone else. Above all, she didn't want any stained-glass windows. "I've been purblinded by that dim dam library. For G........'s sake 'Let there be light.'"
Another one wanted a capacious, well-equipped kitchen near the Gym and common rooms. She wanted hot and cold showers "for all sexes," lights over the mirrors in the washrooms (so that women could do facial surgery by night), and a bench to sit on in the changing rooms.
The last person we interviewed wanted a covered way from the building to the main block. "There must be a concrete link. . ." he said, and woffled off to a lecture.
Our reporters probably missed your comments on the Building; we would like a large number of opinions on what facilities are regarded as essential for the place. There will be a measure of agreement on basic things: but you should let the Planning Committee know what you think to be necessary. The best way to do it is through the columns of Salient.
The college year began with heavy financial burdens for most students. Fees have now been paid, but there is no breathing spaee: there is still a heavy expenditure for textbooks facing us.
Apart from the efforts of the SCM, who do all they can with the secondhand bookstall, all other textbooks must be bought from the larger booksellers. .
This has been found to be most unsatisfactory in two fundamental ways.
1. Booksellers are unwilling to take any risks for students. It is very selrom that the books required are to be found in the shops at the beginning of the session. Those which are ordered by the booksellers are usually only the essential texts, so that advanced students have to rely on libraries for the more general books which they find necessary.
2. The profits made are fantastic: certainly profits on textbooks are not so high as those on matter of more general appeal (25 per cent.-50 per cent as opposed to 50 per cent.-100 per cent), but still, particularly as a student market is a comparatively assured one, the percentage is high enough. Here again the more advanced students suffer, as the general books they need have a higher profit rate than those for science students say.
This problem is not, however, insurmountable. The Students' Association is capable of managing its own affairs, as has been seen in the past. Why, then, should it not interest itself in a matter of vital importance to most students? Training College together with various Government Departments and many secondary schools, have long imported their own books. Let the Students' Association set up its own organisation for direct importing.
With the co-operation of the college staff, orders can be placed sufficiently far in advance so that there should be no delay in having the books at the beginning of the year. These books could be retailed at 2/3 of their present price to make a sufficient profit.
We have now almost enough money to start on the Students' Union building. I suggest that provision could well be made for a Students Bookshop when the plans are being drawn up.
At the end of
In this capacity he has been resident in Paris since
Bert represented WFDY at the Economic and Social Council if UNO in
Too immense. On the afternoon of Saturday 18th February, a detachment of gendarmes knocked on the door of his lodgings in Saint-Germain, and handed him an order from the French Government to leave France within 48 hours. No reason was given.
But the young people of France know the reason. The French Government is frightened by WFDY and its leadership of the young French against the Government's own bankrupt and cheese-paring policy. The Union of Republican Youth, the Protestant Youth Council, the French National Union of Students, the General Confederation of Labour, the National Peace Committee, have joined in protest. And protests are pouring in from abroad.
Let it never be said that Victoria was silent.
Legal history, for Wellington at any rate, must have been made in the Supreme Court last Friday. Alison Pearce (women's vice-president) newly admitted as a solicitor, appeared before Mr. Justice Hutchison requesting an order to be made: consenting to the order for the defendant was Audrey Langley, also newly admitted.
Before the array of sisters-in-law, the said Justice permitted himself a discreet smile.
You will be just in time to send in your name for the first Student Christian Movement camp for the year. If you have any concern about the issues of the day, and doubts about your place and usefulness in the world. I am sure this camp will be of interest to you. Along with fun and fellowship the camp will be designed to show the relevance of Christianity to our work as students, and of the Bible of our way of life. We invite you to come, so that together we might share our doubts and together find the way of coming to understand our place as enquirers after truth in the University.
The camp will be held at the. Boys' Brigade camp site at Wainui-o-mata, from the evening of Friday, March 24 to Sunday 26, and will cost about 11/- plus bus fares—Christine Harvie (Tel. 43-367).
The Annual General Meeting will be held at St. Patrick's College on March 19. A buffet tea, starting at 5.30, will precede it. Older members are asked to attend, as a presentation will be made to Father Durning, new Rector of Silverstream. The evening will finish with a social.
This issue has one letter attacking our printed report on Congress: one letter attempting to ridicule (though never trying to reply to) our editorial on the Assistant Secretary's position: and one article criticising our review of the
As the writer of the play review and the Congress report will probably feel like questioning their critics, it is gratifying to think that we have started off three controversies in two issues. If we can continue to provoke people to thought so often and so freely, then we will feel that the job is more than worthwhile.
We don't intend to comment on the letter from "Do it now," except to note that he has not attempted to answer any of the main questions we raised last time. We take it that he agrees with our remarks on that part of the issue, but is inclined to dislike even the thought of upsetting routine at this time of the year. In
If one can't accuse an editorial of being virulent or hotheaded: if one can't object to the logic of its arguments or the manner of its tone: if all else fails, friends, you can accuse us of being pussyfooted. To go on to accuse us of being guilty of insult seems somewhat inconsistent.
But as we wish to retain our politeness, we will leave the controversy for readers to complete.
Of recent recordings, by the way, I can recommend the following particularly, always presupposing that you have the odd "quid" to spare:—Fournier and Arthur Schnabel have made a magnificent recording of the Beethoven cello sonata op. 52, which I consider unequalled in the history of cello recording. Szymon Goldberg and the Philharmonia Orchestra have made a most beautiful set of records of the Haydn violin concerto, little known, yet of wonderful depth. Lastly, Herbert von Karajan and the Vienna Philharmonic have at long last filled a gap by recording Beethoven's Ninth Symphony (Choral). Here is great music at its best, and the technical side of the records also leaves little to be desired. The difference between this set and the old Weingartner records—not to speak of the really quite inferior Stokovsky rendering—becomes apparent in the first few bars. Lastly, Margaret Ritchie excells in a rendering of Schubert's "The Shepherd On the Rock" (purple H.M.V.), beautifully accompanied on the piano and clarinet.
In Future,
On second thoughts, the letters will be allowed in—we don't want to cut anyone out—but will be stopped short at the 251st word.
This rule will be absolute. If you exceed the 250 word limit, only the first 250 words will be printed.
Sir,—
If you read the full story of the N.Z. elections to "Time" headed "Revolt of the Giunea Pigs" you were lucky, because this magazine (the only reliable commentary on world affairs promptly received in this country) is not freely obtainable by the ordinary purchaser. Reason—dollar shortage! But is this a valid reason? The stock excuse for any shortage used to be "Doncherknowtheresawaron?" "Time" is freely available for new subscribers in Australia, but against New Zealand there is the tag "Renewals Only."
Restrictions also cover all imports of books and publications from the U.K., with a hidden handicap on the N.Z. buyer. Mr. Nash, when Minister of Customs, told the Booksellers' Conference that licensing did not restrict the stocks of educational and special books. The trade's reply was that, while this was true as far as it went, it took a great lot of trouble to secure a special license, so that (unless the book was in demand) the very existence of restrictions dissuaded the bookseller from going to all the bother of proving his case, if his quota had been used up. If there were no more licenses, he would order more special books more freely.
The new Minister of Customs, Mr. Bowden, has stated that overseas funds are not sufficient to remove the restrictions. But Mr. Bowden, what about cigarettes? There are plenty of imported ones available. Plenty of nylons too. Another million pounds or so spent on books would greatly please, our Minister of Education, and would surely not ruin N.Z.
"Socialism's drab, regimented version of Christmas was a pain in the neck." What about soothing this particular pain, Mr. Bowden?
(Our correspondent may have his "Time"; we would not have the inclination. While we feel that the quota for imported books could be better used in bringing in textbooks and almost unprocurable modern classics, the plea for more books fits well with our idea for a VUC bookshop.—Ed.)
Sir,—It was with considerable horror that, I observed your completely pussyfooted editorial in the last issue of "Salient," but I must say that I like the polite and refined way you insult people. Moreover, I agree that if would do no harm to have a statement, advanced by the Executive in explanation of their otherwise incomprehensible activities (or alternatively, their comprehensive inactivities).
Nevertheless, to anyone who wishes to complain, the remedy is in their own hands; They can requisition a special general meeting and dispose of the Executive in the time honoured fashion. And I must say that the omens for this purpose are particularly good, as it would appear that an Executive will this year be forcibly removed from office. In fact, it is many years since two consecutive Executives have exercised such security of tenure of office. Using the long established mathematical progression of 6:8, etc., it is to be believed that something Big is to happen this year. If one Executive was nearly expelled in
Because of the instability of our Student Society, it is self evident that any, endeavour to halt the march of events will only be postponing the inevitable. Let us then get it over early in the year, so that we can settle down to a sort of five-month plan for study.
Do it now!
(Even if our correspondent is sufficiently nitwitted to mistake the politeness of our, editorial for pussyfooting, our reasonableness for rudeness, and our impartial comments for insults, we will attempt to remain polite just long enough to mistake his incomprehensibilities for irony, and his waverings and weaknesses for wit.—Ed.)
Sir,—The report of the Congress which appears in the first issue of "Salient" for
In this letter, I merely deplore the distortion of the report.
A.W.C. Regret that we cannot answer your query or give you a ruling on this without infringing the secrecy of the ballot and possibly, who known, jeopardising the career of the gentleman concerned.
" A Rachne" is the name chosen for the new "Iiterary, journal" which replaces "Hilltop." Published on behalf of the Literary Society of Victoria. College, Wellington, New Zealand, the, magazine is characterised by a deliberate intellectualism usually described as "arty."
It is significant that the members of the editorial committee named on the back cover of the journal figure largely in the list of contributors on the same page. But the editorial policy is not as obvious as all that A note is added: "The essays in this issue do not necessarily coincide with editorial views. It is hoped to publish an essay soon . . . which citicises and carries further the doctrine of non-possession put forward in the essay on Anarchism." Yet the essay on Anarchism is by a member of the editorial committee! Evidently this member of the committee has no influence in determining the "editorial views."
Many will consider it unfortunate that the editorial committee elected to change the name of this periodical from "Hilltop" to "Arachne" at such a time. "Hilltop" was beginning to be well known. The material contained in it was far better than in the new "Arachne." The name was simpler and more effective. "Arachne" is rather a vague allusion at best and it is not improved by the faltering explanation (I take it to be such) advanced in the editorial Apart from this, Part 2 of an article now appears in "Arachne" No. 1, and there is a note that subscriptions to "Hilltop" are now overdue. All add to the general confusion.
The meatiest material in the magazine is a correspondence conducted between W. H. Oliver and W. Hart Smith. Both these correspondents have something to say—and they say it without excessive verbi age and intellectual Jargon. The result is stimulating, almost provocative, and makes good reading. A short story by Helen Shaw "After the Dark" deserves better company than most of the other articles in the journal.
Eight poems by any poet, printed in succession are always a little indigestible, even when the poetry is excellent. Charles Spear's poetry, I feel, needs to be taken in small doses. The last verse of "Promised Land" accurately predicts the effect of these eight poems on the reader:
"For you shall walk the sheer gulfs brink, Through glass-blue caves all brittle spars And flaws. Thereafter you shall sink, Snow-blind in slush, beneath the stars."
Writing on "Anarchism in New Zealand," Lorna Clendon comes to the conclusion "The intellectual has become an anarchist", . . "New Zealand is full of anarchists in one form or another." In a burst of self-expression she writes: "... man's virtue does not lie in the intellectual field. We cannot expect things of him.... He is a form striving for expression and he gets bogged on the way. The evil is usually bound up with his struggle to free himself. He is forever tying himself to false gods. Occasionally in his freedom, the goodness, or integrity, or perfection of form, is extraordinary (sic) clear." What an excellent editorial! But, all this goes to show that "A doctrine of non-possession would be peculiarly well-suited to a country which will not admit superiors."!
There follows a translation of "The Actor" (Albert Camus) by Eric Schwimmer. Persumably this is of interest to the subscribers of the magazine but it will, I think, be above the heads of most students at VUC. Why two pages of Mr. Schwimmer's diary notes,
One poem by Louis Johnson bears the lucid title "Some held by love to hate, for Benjamin Constant" A pretty pattern of rhyme, alliteration, and balance, perhaps disguise the message of this poet—perhaps a commonplace message but none the Jess true for that. Kendrick Smithy-man'a "Song" rises above, the general level, but he is capable of better. Lorna Clendon expostulates for 14 lines on an arrangement of Shakespeare's sonnets. Evidently she prefers a non-logical arrangement. But she conveys the idea well—if anything, too well.
A philosophical article—concerning Sartre by H. H. Rex is heavy going. Remember "Arachne" announces itself as "a literary journal." So Hubert Withyford sails in and reviews Pounds "Pisan Cantos." He rather spoils the effect in the introduction where he writes: "A sisely obtuse court has since found him to be insane and he is at present apparently, in a mental hospital." Poor Mr. Pound! Especially when he writes the sanest things. For instance:—
'"and having got 'em (advantages, privilege) there is nothing, (italics nothing) they will not do to retain 'em."
yrs truly Kungfutseu.'
Four pages on the evolution and importance of the South Pacific Commission, by Mary Boyd, are also included in this literary periodical. Then, just to keep the balance square, a series of book reviews and notes.
Much has been heard at VUC in the past about minority groups bringing the college a bad name. I feel that "Arachne" is no credit to VUC, reeking as it does of intellectual snobbery, and perhaps, as at least two members of the editorial committee are no longer members of the Association, and aren't legally entitled (I understand) to be members of clubs this year, the group might well—for the sake of the good name—be discouraged from using "Victoria College" on their cover. I also trust that this review may provoke some comment from those concerned.
In This finding of a Overlooked Conclusion (see issue no. 1) Jiminy Critic has put such telling shots at the MRA movement that it almost seems to have no leg to stand on. He terms the play lousy, writes off most of the theme with an easy cynicism, but admitting at the same time that there is still some good in it; and finally he sees right through the whole thing and decides that it might be a well disguised hatred. Apart from these few points; I agree substantially with what he says.
Unfortunately I was standing at the back of the hall when seeing the play and pobably missed quite a lot of the detail which was obvious to your critic. Nevertheless, in my humble opinion, the play was well done in both production and acting. There was a noticeable over-characterisation, but this, I feel, helped point the moral. The play seemed to me to be directed to a particular type of audience—after all, the organisers did send invitations to selected people—and the approach and presentation were adapted to suit this audience. This is also a probable reason for the preliminary back-clapping and the too, too rousing choruses, which didn't impress me much either. I agree that the play should stand on its own feet and for its limited purpose, I think it has. Instead of presuming with your critic that the play was intended to "convert" people "on the spot" I think that its intention was primarily to arouse our interest sufficiently actively to cause people to learn more of the movement Those who parted with a few shillings for any of the "How it's done" books on sale at the hall would have considered their money well spent.
Why stop at national boundaries?
Yes, I quite gree with Jiminy Critic on this point which he answers himself. The MRA does move beyond national boundaries as, mentioned in his opening remarks on the success in other countries. The reference to national boundaries in the play itself, I apparently missed, but it is of no importance since it was not the point of the play and the idea is far bigger than nationalism anyway.
If, as Jiminy Critic points out, the sincerity of the followers of the MRA is being used viciously to create a well-disgused hatred, I can only ask, a hatred of what? There to an answer to this, but I don't think it is the one your critic has in mind.
The mention of co-operation, unity and understanding, etc., I also agree, are "annoyingly nebulous" (on their face value)—"appealing more to a herd instinct than to any moral sense which one might possess," to quota the critic himself. But it goes further than that Jiminy Critic probably has a far greater knowledge of the ideology of the Oxford Group than I (and it is the basis of the MRA movement) in order to be in a position to publish his pejorative comments on the value of their work. May I remind him of the simple personal morality from which spring the "annoyingly nebulous" comments. Absolute Honesty, Purity, Unselfishness, and Love form the basis of the morality advicated by Mrs. The play did not reveal this directly, but the story of it was an attempt to live up to these four principles. They are hard to live up to, there is no doubt about it, and there are many who strive with but small success, but they continue to strive.
These four qualities, together with a simple faith, devoid of dogmatism and creeds, based on individual guidance by the will of God, form the ideology of the MRA movement Do I hear mutterings of "Hooey" and "Boloney" from the materialists? Quite possibly, for I can now give an answer to my question: a haired of what?
It is a hatred of materialism—nothing more or less. Gimme and Get, number one first, is the materialist's way of life. MRA requires a change' of attitude, a replacing of Getting with Giving. Simple, isn't it This change, or conversion—call it what you like—was the whole point of the talk given at the conclusion of the MRA play. I suggest that this is a forgotten fact in Jiminy Critic's discussion, and by its omission, he has reached his "Overlooked Conclusion."
Perhaps I've been morally rearmed—I'm not sure.
[Jiminy Critic has been given leave to reply through No Man's Land next week.—Ed.]
Citizenry of VUC, do you appreciate your position? In the VUCSA lies the moat wonderful source of boodle waiting to be tapped la the Interests of sporting gentry of all varieties.
When you put your shekels on the' table a week since, did you wonder why the blazes you should pay 33/6?
For that ransom, you can, if you wish, obtain interest amounting to about 500%. Membership of sports clubs is entirely free—furthermore, if other lads and lasses think as you do, you may, by resolution of 20 or more, approach the Exec. to form a club of any bizarre variety whatsoever.
So how about that Association for pushing pink balls around—croquet, not billiarda: or would our weary athletes prefer a branch of Alcoholics Anonymous?
We have got word from a bruiser named "Bill" (is that his ring name only?) which will cause the cauliflower ears to quiver.
The Boxing Club is to meet at the City Gym on Mondays and Wednesdays at 7.30 p.m., and Sundays at 3 p.m.
Interested bashers will find Bin at Weir.
100yds, 440: D. R. Batten, 1,1,1,3 (track wet Empire Games).
Three Mile Walk: D. L. Kelly. 2,3 (had every chance National Championship).
Discus: I. Lisstenko, 0,3,0,2,3 (excels at night meetings).
440yds Hardies: J. McLevie, 0,0,1 (an improver).
High Jump: Helen Burr, 1,3 (she takes hurdles like a Trojan).
100 and 220yds:Barbara Hill (elasticity itself in heavy going).
I. Brewer and L. J. Riceborough (odds incredibles—hopes fantastic).
Last Thursday, there were a lot of comparative strangers in the Upper Gym, for the Fencing Club were entertaining their friends from the Wellington Swords Club, an Australian sailor, and an, Australian lady fencer from the Empire Games. There were fights going on all over the place. Just outside "Salient" room door, the straight-backed Mr. Draw was fighting foil with Miss Pym, the Australian fencer, and things were moving very fast I saw Julian Stafford throw down his fencing glove at Fain Flaw's feet (meaning, "Come on, you big stiff, and fight sabre), and I remarked how Fain picked up the glove and, waving it wildly, chased Julian across the floor (meaning, "Wait till I get my sword and I'll run you through, you oaf"). All in the best of spirit of sport.
Talking to Miss Pym later, I found her an interesting person, with a very forceful character; in fact, the personality of a champion.
She started fencing after she left school, learning at a physical training school; she trained later at Paris, also fighting in tournaments there. In '48 she was placed third in the Aussie Fencing Tournament, the first they'd ever had. On the strength of this placing, and of her overseas experience, she was put into the Empire Games team. While fighting her defence was admirable, and her lunge on attack excellent. Almost all her movements were pleasant to watch, for they were decisive and self-confident.
The club's supper was almost as good as the rest of the evening.
" What are you laughing at? You are laughing at yourselves!"
So says the Mayor in the last scene of Gogl'a drama. This, no doubt is the crux of the whole play. We are intended, then, to see ourselves as we are—petty, corrupt and muddling. The tables are turned, and our daughter should fall slyly back on ourselves.
The task of the Unity Theatre was to print on our minds this question mark against society, to create a
To my mind, the humour was there, but somehow, the satire was a little blunted. Satire needs a finely drawn pen, and this play, now over 100 years old, seems too naive perhaps in conception to us moderns; and in order to get across the broad humour, buffoonery must needs be resorted to. It is hard to mix salt and sugar, and somehow the flavour of the sugar overcame the bite of the salt But in this then the fault of the play, the Unity Theatre, or the audience?
The production was well attempted, but there were awkward gaps and pauses and repetition of action which could have been avoided. The first act, which is rather a dramatic bog, needs sustained and sincere acting to take it over the muddy patches; this acting on the whole was not forthcoming. The Mayor, Brian Brimer, had the largest burden in characterisation. I admired his acting, he was fussy and laughable, cruel and pathetic. Yet his acting needed something else—an interpretation which could link these traits into a complete character. His fuss and explosions became a little monotonous, and the selfish egoist at the beginning gave us little clue to the weary philosopher at the end—"you are laughing at yourself."
The part of the Dandy, accidentally impersonating the feared Inspector, was clear cut. His character did not have the facets of the Mayor, and he was as gay and light as he was intended to be. Now for the Councillors. Were they intended to be people or puppets? It took quite a while to remember which gentleman was in charge of what Gogol in-dentified them by giving us their individual ways of muddling, but in this production, we became more aware of defects of character than personalities. These gentlemen certainly acted as a team, but to such an extent that they almost ironed each other out However, Bobchinsky and Dobchlnsky were very delightful; their team work was a triumph of synchronization, and the lisper deserved all the laughs he got.
The Mayor's wife could have been more sophisticated than that even for a small town. It was rather difficult to decide what she was, as she shifted from youth to middle age with amazing rapidity. One of the most interesting problems raised by the production was why the shopkeepers were taken in and ordered around by the Council, when obviously at least in their acting, the shopkeepers were far more astute than their masters—and certainly more crafty. We can see no reason why the leaders of the town have gained their official positions; and how the fiery and ingenious townspeople can take any notice of them is a mystery.
The scenery, painted no doubt to look unusual and interesting resulted in appearing rather, crude, and the costumes somewhat makeshift and bedraggled.
The Unity Theatre have the talent, the energy and the enthusiasm: what is lacking is the technique to produce the verve and polish of the overseas professional stage.
Could the answer be a National Theatre?—M.W.
Published for the Victoria University students' Association and printed by the Standard Press, 25a Marion St. Welltington.