Adam Goes to Oxford

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Adam Witkov

English E320M

4/27/2004

After landing safely in London, I boarded a train to Oxford. Halfway into the hour-and-a-half train ride, I was in desperate need of a bathroom on account of the fish and chips I ate at the train station. While sitting on the toilet and reading the local newspaper, I suddenly heard a loud bang and was subsequently thrust off the toilet seat, head-first, onto the floor! Bleeding profusely from the head, I yelled out before losing consciousness.

 

Nineteenth Century European Train

The next thing I knew, I found myself sitting next to a strange looking gentleman, not too much older than myself, dressed in an expensive three-piece suit. Seeing my confused expression, he leaned over and remarked, “A little bit disoriented? You have nothing to worry about. You fell asleep when we boarded the train and have been dozing ever since.” I didn’t know how to respond. I asked the gentleman, “What about the loud bang? How did I get back to my seat from the bathroom?” After laughing at my comment, he responded, “I have been sitting next to you the entire ride and you have not moved an inch. You must have had a nightmare.”

 

The man had a thick British accent, and, though he seemed sincere, I knew he had to be mistaken. I had been to the bathroom, and a loud bang had occurred! What was going on? As I looked around the train, I noticed everything had changed, including me! I was no longer wearing a burnt orange Texas polo and gray slacks. Instead, I had on a gray three-piece suit, a bowtie, high black leather boots, and a top hat! The train’s beige plastic seats were replaced with long wooden benches. The florescent lights that once hung overhead were replaced with oil lamps, and the brown tile floor had become a bright red carpet. As I looked down, I saw a newspaper sitting on my lap. As I pulled the paper closer to my face, I was astonished to read the date, September 7, 1854! At this point, common sense set in, and I realized that the train crash had sent me back in time!

Seeing my awkward and frightened expression, the man sitting next to me said, “This must be your first year at Oxford…what college are you in?” Not knowing how to respond, I explained as best I could how this was all a big mistake. “I don’t know how I got here, but I want to go back!” After saying this, I was reminded of my first day at UT and how I said those very words to my parents on the phone. The man chuckled and introduced himself as Edward Coley Burne-Jones. I then introduced myself and told him how familiar his name sounded. As I sat there, I thought, where had I heard his name before? Then, all of a sudden, it came to me! In Professor Bump’s class we discussed Edward Burne-Jones and the Pre-Raphaelites!

 

A smirk came across my face as I realized who he was. Responding to my smug look, he asked, “What is so humorous?” I then responded, “If I can prove that I am from the future, will you let me stay with you at Oxford?” He reluctantly accepted, and I told him EVERYTHING. I talked about Morris, Ruskin, Rossetti and the Pre-Raphaelite movement. I told Edward he would marry Georgiana Macdonald[i] and every other aspect of his life I could remember. After hearing this, Edward looked at me with amazement and an element of uncertainty.

 

Oxford, England from afar

The train was nearing Oxford. I was overcome with emotion by how truly gorgeous and elegant the town was from afar. After passing dozens of luscious green hills and farm after farm filled with sheep and tall grass, the gigantic gothic structures present in the town’s backdrop were finally in sight! Despite being a gray and gloomy day (unlike the sunny and ninety-degree weather of Austin, TX), Oxford could not have looked more appealing. For this moment, all worries of having gone back in time were dismissed. Getting closer and closer to the train station, I couldn’t help but relate this experience to the first time I flew into Austin. Similarly, I sat staring out the window. From my window seat on the plane, my eyes gravitated towards the UT Tower and football stadium. Flying over The University, I was amazed by its size in comparison to downtown Austin. I felt the same way approaching Oxford.

 

Oxford, England from afar

Palmer’s Tower

When we got off the train, we took a carriage to Exeter College. Riding through the narrow streets of Oxford on a horse-drawn carriage seemed a great deal more elegant than taking the Airport Express from Austin-Bergstrom Airport to Dean Keaton and Speedway! As expected, Exeter was beautiful. The college was founded in 1314 by the Bishop of Exeter, Walter de Stapeldon.[ii] Since then, the college has increased in size and status and is now considered one of the most elite colleges at Oxford. As we walked down the east side of Turl Street, Edward recited every last detail of the college’s history. From the only remaining medieval building, Palmer’s Tower,[iii] to the Front Quad that dates back to the sixteenth century, I could sense Edward’s love for gothic architecture and design.

           

Recognizing my apparent interest in the buildings at Exeter, Edward asked, “What do the buildings of your campus look like?”

 

I answered him, “The buildings of the University of Texas look nothing like those here. While the Old Main Building was originally constructed in a Victorian Style of architecture, in 1937 it was replaced with a three million dollar, 308 foot, Beaux Arts Style Main Building and Tower.[iv] Since then, the majority of the buildings on the University of Texas campus have been constructed in a

Exeter College, Oxford

Mediterranean Style.

 

Shocked that the Littlefield House remains the only remnant of gothic architecture on my campus, he sternly responded, “Well, surely naturalism is ever-present on your campus?”

 

I then replied, “While our campus is immersed in nature to the point that we have grass, trees, flowers, and a pond, it lacks the fundamental bond that is seen here between the ivy and the Front Quad.” I went on to say, “The ivy on the Front Quad elicits the feeling that the building is intrinsically one with nature. Additionally, Fellows’ Garden illustrates the perfect balance between man, nature, and building.”

 

Then, Edward stated, “If you were amazed with the Front Quad, you would have loved Exeter’s First Chapel, which was built in 1326 but later destroyed by a fire in 1709.” Trying to paint the true architectural contrast between our campuses, I described to Edward in detail the Harry Ransom Center and the Undergraduate Library. After nearly fainting, Edward remarked, “What is wrong with the people of your time? Have they completely lost touch with G-d, nature, and architecture?”

 

In agreement, I stated, “Today, they construct buildings for functional use rather than aesthetic appeal. There are fifty thousand students that attend my University. Our campus is landlocked, overcrowded, and understaffed. Thus, the University’s Board of Regents are more concerned with constructing efficient and cost-effective buildings than magnificent architectural designs similar to Palmer’s Tower, The Hall, and The Library.” After checking his watch, Edward realized he had lost all track of time and was supposed to have met his friend William Morris an hour ago! Without a Forty Acres shuttle to hop on, Edward and I sprinted the entire way to William’s home.

Morris’ room was exactly as I imagined. With a large bay window, small wooden framed bed, and a big oak desk, all other free space was filled with artwork and poems. I suppose Morris is a man of his word, for, if I remember correctly, it was he who stated, “The true secret of happiness lies in taking a genuine interest in all the details of daily life.”[v] Edward apologized to William for being late and explained the entire story of who I was, how we met, and what had happened. Astonishingly enough, William was less intrigued by the fact that I had traveled back in time than by the contrasts between my lifestyle and campus at the University of Texas and his at Exeter College, Oxford. Rekindling his desire to depart from Oxford, Morris shouted, “This is it Edward! This is the sign we have been waiting for. We are not meant to be clergy in the church! I say we leave and travel the world painting and writing.”

William Morris

Edward did not know how to respond, and the room became silent. Knowing that this would eventually occur, yet not wanting to alter the course of history, I quickly said, “William, I understand what you are saying. In the future at the University of Texas, I have experienced similar doubts in what I am pursuing and where my education is taking me. However, was it not your friend John Ruskin who stated, ‘The highest reward for a man's toil is not what he gets for it but what he becomes by it.?’”[vi] Although Morris had never previously heard that advice from Ruskin, it nevertheless did the trick in calming him down.

 

Having the unique experience of communicating with two great contributors to the Pre-Raphaelite movement, I inquired, “What inspires you to write and draw in the magnificent manner in which you do and will?”

 

Edward responded, "The more materialistic science becomes, the more angels shall I paint; their wings are my protest in favour of the immortality of the soul."[vii] Edward then expanded, “Look around; there is beauty and nature everywhere. Just yesterday, I was sitting in the Fellows’ Garden. As a cool breeze touched my face, I saw a bird sitting

Fellows’ Garden, Exeter College

atop a building and thought; this is the way life should be: without a care in the world.”

 

Similarly, I thought about the Turtle Pond on the University of Texas campus. Sculpted by Harry Birk Beck,[viii] the pond offers an on-campus refuge from the fast-paced reality of university life. On account of the limited space and large student body, it seems only natural to me that there is only one such pond on the UT campus. However, I couldn’t help but think how disgusted Edward would be by the University of Texas’ reckless disregard for nature.

 

Admiring Edward’s comment, William added, “While I am inspired by the beauty of this campus, what truly motivates me, are the little things that make life worth living.”

 

Not able to state it better myself, I thanked both Morris and Burne-Jones for the artwork and poetry they would later create. I told them, “No matter how much people oppose what you paint or write, do not let that inhibit your creativity. For I can tell you for a fact, your work will remain an inspiration for many generations to come.” Wanting to know how I became so wise, Edward and William questioned me further about my university. Surprised that I was taught by teaching assistants, went to class with women, and was not forced to study theology, they both agreed the future presented a strange and unnerving reality.

 

Thinking the same thing about the past, I could not help but question how my life would be different had I attended Oxford in the nineteenth century. Who would my friends have been? I highly doubt that my low-key, witty humor would blend well with the inspired and radical thinking of Edward, William, and the rest of the Pre-Raphaelites. What would I have done in my free time? While William and Edward are content spending their free time writing and painting, my inability to write legibly coupled with the absence of computers and my nonexistent artistic abilities would have resulted in many nights alone, and a life as an outcast.

 

In reality, my sense of place at the University of Texas is largely defined by my existence as an outsider. My experiences have been a cross between those of Alice’s (from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland) and Jude’s (from Jude the Obscure). Similar to Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, I constantly encounter creatures and experiences which I never knew existed. Growing up in Chicago, the only bulls I knew played basketball. Coming to the University of Texas, I experienced culture shock regarding the students’ obsession with everything that has to do with Texas. While my life at the University of Texas in the twenty-first century possesses many faults, I nevertheless love it. I love that there are museums on my campus, like the Texas Memorial Museum, for which nobody knows exists. I love that people have Texas pride without knowing Texas history. I love how Texans feel the need to drive a truck, wear boots, and believe they are superior. Although William and Edward share a greater connection with nature and architecture than their Texas counterparts, I perceive both as overtly cocky regarding their superiority over the rest of the world. An outsider at both locations, I am able to make unbiased relationships with the Mediterranean Style Architecture of the University of Texas campus, the Fellows’ Garden of Exeter College, and the little intricacies of both worlds that most people are unable to truly see. I love the University of Texas for what it is: a place of beauty, opportunity, and experiences. Similarly, during my time at Oxford, I found that it, too, possessed a wide range of unique opportunities for personal exploration which would have made a college experience there delightful.

 

Deciding to get a little fresh air, I exited Morris’ home and took a stroll around the campus. While I enjoyed being at Oxford in the nineteenth century, I still missed my life at the University of Texas in the twenty-first century. I missed walking past the Drag and the UT Tower every morning. I missed being in a class with a hundred people and not knowing any of their names. I missed lying on the West Mall, sitting in the Texas Union, and studying at the Natural Science Library. Rounding the block on my way back to Morris’ home, I tripped on the cobble stone and fell head first onto the ground! Bleeding profusely from the head, I yelled out before losing consciousness.

 

The next thing I remember, I was lying on the bathroom floor of a train. As I looked to my right, I saw a newspaper lying next to me. As I pulled the paper closer to my face, I was relieved to read the date, September 7, 2004.

 

Word Count: 2,412