Fall Issue 2

I love being of one mind with Claire Perini. - Mary Frances Giles

Click here to download the PDF of this issue.


Back in the Building

By Alice Hodgkins

I spent my first year at Regent shunning both the atrium and the library. It took a great deal of effort. In fact, I really made kind of an art of it. In October of that first Fall I wrote an Et Cetera article called “On Being Shy at Regent,” in which I detailed, on the front page, strategies the general Regent public could use for avoiding the atrium. (One that I didn’t include was that I bussed away home for lunch almost every day and then came back again. I actually did that.) 

As for the library, it was a silly, quiet point of pride that I didn’t check a single book out that whole first year. Instead I became very familiar with several of UBC’s libraries and, when absolutely necessary, sat in a Regent carrel with a book I had temporarily pulled from a nearby shelf. I’m sure there’s lots of fun psychology behind these particular stubbornesses, but we’ll draw a veil over that for now.

Then in May, right after my second term ended, I started an SE position at the library. Suddenly I was there for hours every week through the summer, handling books, wending my way around the stacks with a full cart, neatly ordered call numbers running through my head, stepping and speaking quietly, responding to a bell. The whispers of the place made me want to write. I was happy there. I put poems in the carrels.

And the atrium? Well, I guess I just got less scared. With time it had become a place no longer full of inscrutable strangers but largely full of faces I loved or wanted to welcome. It was a place where I ate my take-out from JamJar with whoever I could find, where I read stories to my friends, where—Lord help me—I waged an angsty battle with a whole bunch of fairy lights at Christmas-time which kept blowing their fuses. It was home.

And then came March and Covid.

And now comes now. My library job is back, and this gives me leave to be back in the building three days a week. In some ways it is an embarrassment of riches. I get to walk up and down the curving stairs to the lower level. I get to go through the stacks, pulling things for myself and others. The books are as happy to see me as I am to see them. On Tuesday afternoons, I sit upstairs in the atrium with a cart for curbside pick-up, and I wave to the friends who come in for an appointment or who just walk past by the wisteria outside for no discernable reason (a surprising number of familiar faces do that in the space of two hours.)

But still, it’s like only smelling where we used to not just taste but eat our fill. So many other hands used to touch the books that I touch, and it was those hands that imparted the poetry into their spines. Where we used to serve soup to each other on Tuesdays, there’s now a sign banning communal food. I didn’t give my loyalty to these spaces easily or quickly, but when I did, I gave it fully and trustingly, and now I suppose I feel a bit betrayed by them. I know that this is a strange time and it won’t go on forever, yet this is also the time I have in this precious place and that won’t go on forever either.

If you want to be all Regent-y about it and frame what I am saying here as lament, that’s kind of you and you may. But if you are feeling less charitable and you want to call it complaint, that’s fine too. Really, it’s both. I miss feeling at home in a place I loved like home, and some days I’m a little angry about it. If we have to wear masks, must we constantly wear brave faces too?


The Brain—is wider than the Sky—

By Emily Dickinson

The Brain—is wider than the Sky—

For—put them side by side—

The one the other will contain

With ease—and You—beside—

The Brain is deeper than the sea—

For—hold them—Blue to Blue—

The one the other will absorb—

As Sponges—Buckets—do—

The Brain is just the weight of God—

For—Heft them—Pound for Pound—

And they will differ—if they do—

As Syllable from Sound— 


An Excerpt of 4QZoom, with Commentary

By Mary Beth Lascurain

By now, Iain Provan’s recent introduction of 4QZoom has been widely viewed by and discussed within the Regent community. However, given that this is a graduate theological school, it hardly seems appropriate for scholarly discussion to center on a translation—however well done—rather than the original-language text. Therefore, in the spirit of free and open academic discourse, I wish to engage with the original text translated and communicated by Provan. The first two verses of the second chapter of this composition commonly known as Zoomiticus are therefore reproduced below, followed by my own brief commentary. Readers will no doubt already be familiar with the background provided by the first chapter, which describes the chaotic time for which the second chapter provides guidance. Vowel points in the below text reflect the current scholarly consensus and are not found in the original text, which is of course unpointed. I have also taken the liberty of marking penultimate accents, joining construct chains, and formatting the text for ease of reading.

4QZoom_HebrewText.png

A generally late composition is evidenced by full spellings such as חוקי (in lieu of חקי) and ולעבודה (the use of the internal ו particularly unusual given the presence of multiple prefixes) in Zm 2:1. Those with some familiarity with other Dead Sea Scrolls will be unsurprised by the spelling of לוא in Zm 2:2, although this form is uncommon in the biblical text, which tends to prefer לא.

There is currently debate as to whether ולעבודה (Zm 2:1) should be pointed as definite or indefinite, but given the context describing a particular type of work, Provan’s translation with the English definite article is most appropriate (“and for the work…”).

Modern Hebrew speakers may initially find the use of the word צלחת in Zm 2:2 confusing, given that its modern meaning is restricted to “plate” (“bowl” being expressed by the word קְעָרָה). Doubtless the author intends to refer to its earlier sense as found in Prov 19:24, 26:15, while avoiding the cultic association of the term קְעָרָה in the biblical text; if the sluggard finds it tiresome to bring hand to mouth to eat, surely sitting up to consume the referenced bowl of cereal would be similarly taxing.

The word בשוקים in Zm 2:2 is of course easily recognizable in its lexical form שׁוּק, a word enduring in the modern dialect in the same sense of “marketplace.” Finally, as to the translation of בקהל למדך (Zm 2:2), I must regrettably disagree with Provan’s inordinately free translation “while class is in session”—surely it is preferable to preserve the clear communicative intent of the text that it is not merely class in general which is in session, but that of addressee (lit., “in your assembly of learning,” or more colloquially, “while your class is in session”). Nonetheless, it might be argued that the context encourages this interpretation without the precision provided by the English possessive.

I trust these brief notes will serve to underscore a key principle of Reformation thought and indeed the basis for our own study of the original languages: ad fontes!


The Best Chocolate Cake in the World

From Débora Raimundo

I told Steven that “the best chocolate cake in the world was vegan.” He told me he cannot print lies. Alright, then! But although we can discuss this matter further, you will have to agree that this is the most simple, quick, and versatile recipe ever. It invites experimentation and it (almost) never fails. So, be bold! This is what you will need:

• 1 + 1/4 cups of flour (use wheat, GF mix)

• 1 cup of brown sugar

• 1/3 of cocoa powder (or carob powder for a more exotic flavour)

• 1 tsp of baking soda

• 1/2 tsp of salt

• 1 cup of tepid water

• 1 tsp of pure vanilla extract

• 1/3 of vegetable oil (or applesauce)

• 1 tsp of white vinegar 

Preheat the oven at 350ºF.

Mix all the dry ingredients in a bowl. Mix all the wet ingredients in a jar. 

Now pour the wet ingredients in the bowl and mix with a spatula. DONE!

Put the mix in a greased cake pan and take it to the oven for 30 minutes.

Let it cool and use your favourite frosting. (I am usually happy with pure peanut butter. Did you know peanut butter was invented in Canada?)

If you are not a chocolate fan, simply omit that ingredient and do whatever you want: lemon zest, orange zest, nothing… But make sure you treat yourself with a sweet thing during a study break! 

Previous
Previous

Fall Issue 3

Next
Next

Fall Issue 1