I have been writing this editorial since 20 February 2019. Most of you might think I’m exaggerating, but my dearest friends know that I’ve lived and breathed Honi since my first day on campus (and I thank you sincerely for indulging me throughout).
When I go to bookstores, the first thing I look for in a novel is its dedication. I believe dedications are filled with more love and reverence than odes are, and writing one out to a friend, lover, family member is the most intimate thing one can do.
Editorials, much like dedications, immortalise you on paper. They are a record of how you felt at the moment of writing them, and also of the people you chose to thank in its contents. In a way, this five-hundred word block of text will add to my legacy. I wrote about how I couldn’t write (pg 12) and how I, like most people, struggle with being vulnerable. Every single one of these pages contains something personal and offers you an insight into my soul.
When I asked reporters to write for this edition, I told them to find a hill and die on it. This edition is full of the people I love, and I can never thank them enough for writing for me. Juliette Marchant pens an open letter to ballet, reflecting on her fifteen years as a dancer (pg 12). Genevieve Couvret eulogises the novelist (pg 14), writing about the importance of the people behind the stories they tell and what is left of them after they’re gone. Marlow Hurst explores universes of myth and legend bound by the rules of contemporary bureaucracy (pg 20), which fits splendidly with Vivienne Guo’s love for Shirley Barber’s fairy stories (pg 21) and Ariana Haghighi’s excellent analysis of mythological intertextuality (pg 20). My experience playing Dungeons and Dragons is limited to one character-building session where I haphazardly scribbled a threadbare backstory onto the back of a notebook, but Felix Faber’s article (pg 18) makes me wish the game is how I spent my nights (if I could ever part with reruns of Gilmore Girls and Desperate Housewives).
I dedicate this edition to my fellow editors: to Marlow who writes his name on every pitch he likes, to Alice without whom our collective vocabulary would be lacking, to Juliette who laid up a coloured spread for me, to Vivienne, my favourite dream fairy. To Deaundre and his ire for British accents, for Jeffrey’s affectionate long-suffering face when I talk about my imposter’s syndrome, and Sam’s love for my awfully-iced vanilla cupcakes. For Claire’s little laugh from Gosper and for Max, despite his vexation towards the culture section.
I want to thank Annie and Madeline for being better editors than I deserved, and for the endless patience they continue to show with my rambling.
Before I go, I want to leave you with a dedication I wish I thought of first:
All our dream-worlds may come true.
Fairylands are fearsome too.
As I wander far from you
Read, and bring me home to you.
All my love,