Trojan Unicorn by Becky Minto (designer), Scott Bisset (build and design) and Kate Bonney (Lighting designer). Photo by Bart Masiukiewicz
The first person to grasp the marketing potential of the unicorn seems to have been King James I of Scotland. Kidnapped by the English as an 11-year-old in 1406, he wasn’t released for eighteen years. When he assumed the throne, he placed a pair of rampant unicorns on his new coat of arms. The unicorn is still a symbol for Scotland, always depicted in chains – a nod to the years James spent as a hostage, perhaps, or else to the creature’s ferocity, only tamed in the presence of a virgin. But how did it become a byword for billion-dollar start-ups, a mascot for the LGBTQI+ community and the ne plus ultra for pre-teen girls the world over?
Jilly Cooper makes an all too fleeting appearance in the TV adaption of her novel ‘Rivals’.
It’s always a shock when imagined characters from novels are given a kind of reality by TV actors. Everybody has their own idea of Mr Darcy or Leopold Bloom, Mrs Dalloway or Emma Bovary, and most incarnations will upset somebody. It does seem perverse, though, to change as much about the characters’ appearance as Disney’s adaptation of Jilly Cooper’s best novel, Rivals, has done.
Many Jews today feel torn. On the one hand, they feel loyalty to Israel, the land of their fellow Jews, many of whom were driven to that country by persecution. On the other hand, they recognise that Israel has been committing crimes against humanity, which are essentially racially driven. They want to oppose Israel’s wars, but they want to do it as Jews. Is there a specifically Jewish way to address this conflict? I believe there is.
Julian Marryshow (right) and colleagues of 602 Spitfire Squadron, Sumburgh, January 1943. Photo © Royal Air Force Museum
Six weeks after the start of the Second World War, the British government lifted the colour bar on military recruitment. But the announcement, on 19 October 1939, made clear that the change in policy would last only for the duration of the war. The air force recruited six thousand West Indians. The army and navy, however, claimed that Black people could not meet their high standards for entry.
Ara Darzi released his report on the English National Health Service last month. To no one’s surprise, he finds that the service is ‘in serious trouble’, with crumbling buildings, demoralised staff and slipping standards in key areas such as maternity care. More than 7.6 million people are on waiting lists. Only a third of dentists are accepting new NHS patients, and DIY dentistry kits are for sale in pound shops. Yet Darzi also insists that the ‘vital signs’ of the NHS ‘remain strong’ and his report outlines strategies for the new Labour government to adopt.
You can tell a lot about the state of the contemporary university by looking at something peripheral: the parking. You might think there is only so much that can be said about parking. You would be wrong. Parking at my university is an issue of surprising intricacy and strong passions. Presumably this was not always the case. There may have been a time, not so long ago, when you could simply drive to work, park and work. But those days are gone.
A judge in Georgia recently struck down the six-week abortion ban. But total or near-total bans are still in place in sixteen other states. Florida, where I grew up, enacted a six-week ban in May. ‘We don’t want to be an abortion tourism destination,’ Governor Ron DeSantis said.