CYPRUS - LITERATURE - CYPRUS - BY JASMINE KYRIAKOU

REVIEW: CYPRIOT LITERATURE – BY JASMINE KYRIAKOU

Date – 12/11/11

The history of Cyprus relates significantly to the Literature as throughout school and through family, children have been taught about such invasions and victories along the years. The achievement of independence in 1960 was a golden moment in Cyprian history; this day is remembered with a celebration day each year where everyone is given a day off work and a parade takes place through the streets.

Cypriot Literature has developed substantially over the years and it reflects strongly the cultural heritage of the country. Being Greek Cypriot myself I have grown up in Cyprus surrounded by the history of the island and through the invasion of the Turks in 1974 my family like many others was greatly affected.

The Turks invaded the northern side of Cyprus where many Cypriots owned houses and land and all that was instantly taken away from them. This war between the Greeks and the Turks has gone on for many years and still today we are reminded of the fact that they invaded our island. I studied at the University of Nicosia in Cyprus, and on my journey to the university every day I saw the Turkish flag in bright lights on the mountains in the background. It was as if they were tormenting us Cypriots by placing the Turkish flag there; creating in our minds the constant reminder that it was now their property. Literature and History students today study the many wars and invasions that have taken place in Cyprus.

Literature in Cyprus furthermore includes various genres and types of literary works from the ancient and medieval times and has been the support of Greek culture through the years. Such Greek mythology is studied still in the present day: the battle of the Trojan War, the tragic tale of Sophocles and furthermore so seen in the Theatre with the plays of Aeschylus and Hercules. It was in the city of Paphos, Cyprus that the mythological goddess Aphrodite was born and along with her came the legendary upsurge of cult worship that lasted for many centuries. Still now you are able to see the architectural and cultural remains of the rugged rocks at the beautiful shore where she was known to have landed and emerged from the sea, the Aphrodite Rocks. Other landmarks such as the sanctuary of Aphrodite at Kouklia Village and the Baths of Aphrodite at Polis still also remain.

Cypriot poetry has in addition made its mark on the Literature of Cyprus; some of the Cyprus poets include Costas Montis, who received numerous honours and awards throughout his life for his works, and Koraly Dimitriadis, who is a Cypriot-Australian writer of poetry, prose and non-fiction.

The Cypriot Literature captures the spirit and essence of Cyprus, reflecting through various forms the people, the society and the history of the island. Cyprus Literature has expanded considerably over time and depicts a unique blend of the Greek and Cypriot culture, thus becoming a powerful and insightful representation of Cyprus as a whole. 

WORK WONDERS - REVIEW - BY JASMINE KYRIAKOU

REVIEW: WORK WONDERS – COMMON MISTAKES BY JASMINE KYRIAKOU

Lecturer – Dr Matthew Birchwood – Senior Lecturer in English Literature

Date – 21/10/11

Matthew Birchwood held the second week of the ongoing series ‘Work Wonders’ events which aims to help students of all years in the University with their oral and writing skills. Each week discusses a different topic in order to cover each element within the standard essay of a University student; with this week being ‘Common Mistakes’ Matthew began with a clear outline of what we would be covering, creating a sense of awareness within the group, which was obvious as I saw many students including myself talking about the subject.

As the event began we were all given numerous sheets: two examples of sample essays, an assessment sheet for the department of English and a feedback report. This immediately demonstrated a strong structure to the event, as Matthew not only introduced to us his own lecture material, but also allowed to us to become involved by giving us literal examples of essays where we were able to search for such ‘common mistakes’. As a student I found it extremely helpful to have these examples and an assessment guide to compare them with as it got the whole group participating, working and arguing each of their individual points.

As Matthew continued I began to find the lecture not only incredibly interesting but entertaining. I could see that he wanted to keep the group focused and alert at all times and not have students drifting off into their own thoughts. In order to achieve this Matthew created a balance between his own discussion as a group and our involvement in his discussion; he never at any given time talked continuously for over ten minutes, allowing his audience to frequently ask questions and converse among themselves about the topic. Matthew included a video clip from www.youtube.com by Stephan Fry ‘On Words and Language’. This clip was a great source for academic entertainment as we were able to hear from another point of view the ‘common mistakes’ not only students make in their grammar, syntax, punctuation and so on but also many adults of all ages make around the world.

Matthew repeated a significant line to the group, ‘we are all professional writers, writing in an environment which requires commonly agreed conventions of written communication’. This stood out to me as a student and I feel everyone around me as we all came to university to learn and hopefully succeed further in life. Diverse amounts of people apply to university to further their studies and improve their education and they are all able to do this no matter what age they are.

Overall Matthew’s event was extremely successful; he covered every aspect of ‘common mistakes’ made by us as students within our essays. I found the lecture helpful and satisfying and I will be attending the ongoing series of Work Wonders in order to overcome the difficulties I have myself as a writer. To find out more about Work Wonders lectures you can visit Student Space through the Kingston University website or even better you can come along yourself and enjoy the inspirational and rewarding sessions!

Creative Writing: Poem: Cold London by Stephania Chuku

Cold London

I hate you, London!

Hurry up and go.

Leave, drown

Say goodbye

And take your snow.

Stop pushing me London,

You’re pushing me too far.

Shoving me on the train,

Slowing buses down in rain.

Immigration and youth out of control,

Students not at peace

With the tuition fee increase.

Recession,

Job cuts,

Unemployment

and fear,

Are all you hear when a politician is near.

Terrorism,

Murder,

Muggings

And hate.

All in a day

On a bus thirty eight.

I’ll be out soon,

I and London are through.

I’ll go back to Devon

Where I can write

About having

Nothing

To do.

Creative Writing: Extract: Awaken by Stephania Chuku

Awaken

An extract from a novel by Stephania Chuku

Noelle drops her cigarette behind her, throws her dark grey slouch bag over the gate and balances her battered black converse on the gate handle, as she attempts to break into the park.

    She winces in pain as a broken part of the gate scrapes against her leg and uses one arm to hold her long dark brown hair back, in fear of catching it on the gate also. With the other hand holding her steady, she launches and lands with a thump on the damp grass and just missing what smells like dog excretion.

     Noelle glances at her watch, 1:52am, she lies flat on her back and stares up at the blacked out sky, she couldn’t care less if there were any park rangers or drunkards lurking about, she just had to get away from that flat. She hears a buzzing sound, reaches over to grab her bag and pulls out her phone. Her heartbeat speeds up as she stares at the screen that reads: ‘Message from Jay’. She grips her phone tightly feeling the anger rapidly rise through her and flings the phone into a nearby bush.  She pulls the bag over her shoulder, lights another cigarette and takes quick steps towards a large pond. She can picture everything from the night before so clearly and remembers shouting;

    ‘What the hell are you doing?’ at her boyfriend of four years.

Noelle hears rustling in a nearby bush and picks up her pace. She smokes furiously as she tries to get the previous night’s event out of her head.

     She can make out two people’s names carved into a tree with a heart outlining it. She walks up to it and scorns, ‘John and Vivian?’, She takes out her pen knife and carves a big X over their names and writes ‘liars’ underneath. She shoves the knife back into her pocket, kicks off her converse and lets her socks soak through with water from the wet grass and walks on in the direction of a dark brown cabin.

     Noelle feels her eyes begin to prick with water as she reminds herself about the falseness that surrounded the amazing day she had yesterday. She pulls her camera out of her bag and a painful lump develops as she thinks about the memories stored inside. As she begins to walk on, she spots a dim yellow glow in a cabin window. She stops in her tracks and suddenly grips her camera. She lifts her arm, takes a step back and launches the camera straight at the cabin window. The camera smacks onto the window with a loud thud and she can hear it shatter as it hits the ground. The cabin door swings open and she can barely make out the shape of a man glancing around. She ducks down behind a log and watches him look out into the blackness.

      ‘Clear off! Or I’ll call the police!’ she hears him shout as she creeps up from behind the log and ignoring the squelching sound her feet are making as they collide with her soaking socks, she watches him go back into the cabin and sees the ground floor lights come on.

     Noelle continues to walk towards the pond; she felt a great sense of release as the camera smashed against the window. Her relationship with Jay has been shattered and she wants nothing more to do with him and wants nothing that reminds her of him.

As she reaches the edge of the pond, she unzips her bag, turns it upside down and lets the entire contents fall onto the grass. She bends down in the dark, lets her hand roam through the grass and picks up what feels like her watch. She wipes her eyes and thumbs the back of the watch feeling the quote ‘Forever’ engraved on it. She chucks it into the pond and it breaks the surface with a splash. She picks up the now soggy letter that used to live under her pillow and remembers when Jay handed her the love note; she teased him for being soppy. She tears the letter into pieces, the soft rain masking the tears on her cheeks and lets the paper float to the ground. She gently strokes her empty wedding finger, and then grips the index finger on her right hand and yanks off the promise ring with which Jay had surprised her. She can feel her gut full of anger and her heart fill with regret as the ring comes off. She uses all her force to throw the ring into the pond and is glad to hear it plonk into the pond and imagines it sinking.

     After standing by the pond for a while shuddering with the cold and tears, Noelle feels as if something still holds her closely to Jay. She holds up her wrist and stares down at the ink that reads ‘N & J’. She pulls her pen knife out from her pocket, flicks opens the blade and places it directly on the writing on her wrist. With her eyes tightly shut, she forces the point of the blade firmly into her skin, piercing through the inked letters and feels her warm dark red blood trickle down her arm. The knife falls from her fingers to the ground and feeling her heart sink she walks slowly towards the pond. She pictures Nadia wearing her dressing gown and lying on the bed she shared with her soul mate looking smug. She pulls her jumper over her head and leaves it to get soaked on the ground, removes her now grass stained socks and takes a step forward. She wishes she could erase the last four years, she would have taken that place at university and actually see her friends. With blood still trickling down her wrist, she places her feet into the pond one at a time ignoring the icy cold sensation. She feels her toes slightly disappear into the mud and can feel the ripples of the frosty water dampening her jeans. The mud digs into her toes and seeps into her toenails as she kneels into the water, with her arms by her side and shivering, she takes a deep breath, leans forward and dips herself fully in to the water as if to wash away all the memories and pain from what is now her past. 

            

Creative Writing: Monologue: Eva's Treats by Stephania Chuku

Eva’s Treats

A Monologue by Stephania Chuku

‘I’ve gotta pack the lot up. No need keepin’ ‘em ‘ere anymore. Get rid of ‘em, the lot of ‘em.

We ‘ad some good times me & Harold, he never understood the dildos, but a business is a business int it?

     “Make an honest woman outa y’self” He’d say, I’d frown at ‘im and say “You did you silly muppet, you married me!” and he’d shake his head and carry on reading the paper.

I don’t think my Harold was embarrassed of me. I did an honest good day’s work and put bread and butter on the table every day. Most men’d probably feel a bit useless not being able to work, it weren’t his fault he had a dodgy leg. 

We didn’t ‘ave no kids us, but with that leg of his there weren’t much goin’ on behind closed doors. It broke me ‘art ‘cause being disabled changes ya don’t it? He was sat in this very same couch day in day out, readin’ his book or doing the cross word.

    The shop was my safe haven weren’t it? A bit like me escape. We had a laff me and the girls, sorting through all our stock ‘avin a little giggle at the edible underwear. We got all the school girls comin’ in, touchin all the plastic willies and squirming at the rabbits. It brought tears to me eyes thinkin’ I’ll never have squirming teenage girls, but it was alright, ‘cause I had Harold.

    I think it was resentment about how much time I was actually spending there, rather than what I was actually doing. In my day, men went out, brought home the bacon, and women smiled, cooked and never questioned. Oh how things changed. Not only was I goin’ out to work, I was selling bedroom goodies to all these young hip lasses. We did get the odd elder come in, Mrs Dierdre thought she were smart wearin’ a brown scarf over her head and glasses. I smirked at Maple and nodded me head over at Dierdre and Maple gave out an “ooh!” and covered her mouth. It could’ve been the talk of the town that, but we weren’t like that us. It’s no one’s business if Mrs Dierdre comes in every so often to pick up a toy or two; everyone knows her Arthur’s a drunk so she can’t be getting much luck in that department, bless her.

    I don’t know what me kids would’ve said about their mam if they knew she owned a sex shop. Disown me? My Harold nearly did. I were fuming, people were talking “oh that Eva, you’ll never believe what she’s gone and done”, “oh poor Harold this, poor Harold that!”

They all assumed I’d turn that space into a sweet respectable little cake shop, now I’m respectable but I’m definitely not sweet, and plus I can’t bake. I never set out to open Eva’s Treats. It’s not like my dream as a little girl was to sell naughty bits n bobs to Cornish folk, but when Harold’s leg started playin’ up I had to think fast didn’t I?. Me dad’s money wasn’t gonna last so I thought of the best thing I could and that was starting up a business.

Yeah it lost me my Harold, but I don’t think he was really there when he stopped working. No smiles or jokes, I couldn’t tell you what a cuddle was and we didn’t do Christmas in our house anymore, “Too much bother and money for nothing” he’d say, plus I was going to hell anyway with a job like mine as Harold liked to remind me on a weekly basis.

I don’t regret a thing. I may have lost a lot of close ones but I found joy in that little shop. And everything happens for a reason doesn’t it? I said I’d never close that place ‘til the day I died and I’m still alive. I may be on me own now and I ought to retire! But I just can’t seem to bring myself away and I still get delighted when a new box of delivery arrives and me and the girls gather around laughing at the latest funny shaped goodies we’re about to sell.’