My Oxford Year

I didn't travel 10,000 miles

to spend my first morning in England

talking to some wise-ass chick from Weehawken, New Jersey.

Look here! The building...

Ignore him. Not him. This!

Look at the building behind...

That's where she's going to study!

Bill Clinton went to Oxford.

Mmm!

And she already has a job lined up at Goldman Sachs when she finishes.

Oxford graduates earn 25% more than other graduates.

It'd be easier to Google Oxford on your phone, Mom.

Mmm! There she is!

- We're going to miss you, Anna. - I'll be home before you know it.

Oh, imagine.

Beautiful England.

Although I do hear it rains a lot.

Give away...

The poet Henry David Thoreau took himself to the woods

to, as he put it, "live deliberately."

Inspired by the idea of living a planned life,

I studied hard, graduated summa cum laude,

and secured a Wall Street job, which I deferred,

so I could take a year for myself,

studying Victorian poetry at the University of Oxford.

A year to live my dream.

Everything was going exactly to plan.

Until it wasn't.

Anything you want, make it happen

Do what you have to

Anything you want, make it happen ...

Okay.

Ooh, just imagine...

Your beauty will fade, as will my interest.

Hi.

- Um, I'm Anna de la Vega. - Who the bloody hell's that?

An American.

Wonderful face. Shocking shoes.

Bellend!

Whoa, raining, is it?

Not exactly.

Hi. Um...

I would like to order some fish and chips, please.

Haddock?

A duck? Uh...

No. Fish.

Yeah, haddock. Or cod. Or saveloy.

I'm not... I, uh... I...

Just... Fish and chips?

- Large? - Large! Yes!

- 8.50, five minutes. - Great.

Jamie, this is not the finest dining in Oxford.

Well, it's top three. Hello, mate.

Can I get two large cod, mushy peas, pickled onions, and some chips, please?

Chips?

Should you be having those?

Oh my God, you're so right. Moment on the lips, lifetime on the hips, right?

Uh, can we make that two extra-large chips, please?

Ignore the lady. She has yet to learn how to live deliberately.

It's not me telling you that you can't have--

What are you doing?

Oh my God, are you hiding?

No. I'm battling an unruly shoelace.

You're hiding from Jessica Borne!

Honestly, it is a wonder you can get out of the house

with all the women you leave in your wake.

She's gone now, anyway. She probably recognized your car.

Yeah, probably. One of the pitfalls of owning a rare car. It's like a beacon.

That's where Bond went wrong. Should have driven a Ford Focus.

Oh my God. You!

Me?

Yeah, you're the bellend. You drenched me with your car.

Oh. Oh!

Oh... Oh?

Well, I'm... Shit!

Fish and chips for you, love.

I really... I really am sorry.

Genuinely.

Yeah, me too.

- Hey! - No. No!

He's in here!

Hiding from you.

No, no, no, no.

- Uh... - Jessica, darling.

- Hello. - All right? I was... Something...

Welcome

to the University of Oxford,

an institution which has been here for hundreds of years,

and which in each and every one of those years

has welcomed a new group of young people.

Great leaders, great scientific minds, literary visionaries

have all passed through these doors before you.

You will forget parties you attended here,

and you will forget friends you made here,

but you will never forget the learning and the studying you did here.

Your time here is precious.

It will disappear in a blink.

Seize it.

- It's okay. you're on time. - Oh!

Right, yeah. I was just... I...

I was at the... the thing with the...

- I'm Maggie Timbs. - Hi, I'm Anna de la Vega.

- Are you American? - I am, yes. From Queens, New York.

Good morning. I have arrived.

Charlie! How was your summer?

Pfft. Loveless.

I was stalking that Adonis rower with bedroom eyes and pecs as hard as--

This is Anna.

- Ah. Hello, new girl. - We've actually met.

Your neighbor? You said I had shocking shoes.

Surprised a charmer like you could remain loveless all summer.

- Loveless, darling, not sexless. - Ah.

And that wonderful smile more than makes up for those shoes.

Hello, hello, hello, all.

Oh my God, it's Professor Styan. She's my hero.

She's the reason I came here.

Terrible news, I'm afraid.

I've been named head of graduate studies,

which means I'm far too important to be teaching you lot, this term at least.

My cover is more than able. In fact, he's my annoyingly brilliant DPhil student.

I'll do the marking. He'll do the teaching. Best of both worlds for me.

It's not exploiting youth labor.

He actually wants to teach. His lookout.

So, um... yeah. I guess I'll see you around, guys.

Over to you, Jamie.

Uh, thank you. Uh... Hello.

Oh my God, you have got to be kidding me.

Okay, now that is a serious bit of crumpet.

So, as this is my first class,

I thought that I would set the tone by offering you

a bribe.

It's a

massive cake.

So...

Help yourselves.

Ah, didn't need the cake. I'd eat him.

Yeah.

Five years ago, I sat right where you are now.

Professor Styan walked in, and I thought to myself,

"So this is the woman who's going to bore me to tears for the next few months."

Um...

Hello.

It's you.

Hi.

Hi.

Uh, ladies and gentlemen, we have a student here all the way from...

- New York. - New York, New York. Welcome, welcome.

I notice you don't have any cake. We have to make you feel at home.

And they do say that everything

is bigger in New York.

Actually, that's Texas.

Either way.

- I don't really want the cake. - Don't want the cake?

- No. - Fine. Yeah.

It's just that Mrs. Mackenzie crafted it in our very own college kitchen,

so it's basically an insult to the college,

everyone here, and all of Oxford--

- I'm going to eat it. - I'm not gonna force you to eat it.

- It's slightly unusual-- - I want it.

- I know you do, but-- - I insist.

Mmm.

It's delicious.

Good. So, poetry.

I liked poetry, but, I mean, Victorian poetry, that's for my dad.

Stale old men in top hats banging on about the glory of foreign wars

might not be the most exciting thing in the world, but

never in my wildest dreams

did I expect to find in the work of the Victorians

such... despair,

such terror, such beauty,

wisdom, lust.

If you don't mind,

I would love it if you read us this poem.

It was written by an American,

so I think we'd all like it if we heard it in the original cadence.

"My candle burns at both ends

It will not last the night

But, ah, my foes, and, oh, my friends

It gives a lovely light"

Thank you.

That was Edna St. Vincent Millay.

There are many different interpretations of those words,

but here's my tuppence worth.

I believe that what she is saying is that a well-lived life might come at a price,

but bugger me if it's not worth every penny.

Nothing is permanent.

Our passions, our loves, or indeed our lives

might indeed be fleeting,

but if, while we have the chance, we embrace them fully,

then we can say that we have truly lived.

Poetry... Poetry can be taught, but, really, it should be tried.

It should be tested. It should be engaged with.

Take it on. Allow it to change your life.

And so, in that vein, I will endeavor to teach you but one thing in my class.

Can anyone guess what it might be?

To eat cake?

Every chance you get.

Uh, ping them in an email to me, and we can, uh, schedule a tute.

Yeah. So...

Uh, can I have a word?