Dual Classics Competition Success
Many congratulations to Megan Power (Year 12), who has won the 17-18yr category in the Oxford Classics Creative Writing Competition. The University received over 300 entries to this year’s competition, where writers were asked to respond to one of four objects selected from the Ashmolean Museum’s collection. Choosing a portrait from a Roman era burial in Fayum, Megan’s short story caught the attention of judges from the Museum and the outreach team at Oxford. You can read Megan’s prizewinning entry below.
Megan Power – Oxford Classics Creative Writing Competition Entry
The artist cleared his throat loudly and attempted a bright smile. “I trust the piece is to your satisfaction, then?”
The old man made no reply, save to bring the portrait closer to his face. Uncomfortable seconds passed.
The artist’s smile began to curdle, like milk left too long in the sun. “If you are not satisfied-”
“It will do,” the old man interrupted, without looking up. His fingers traced the curves of the image. “It is a fitting immortalisation.”
The artist relaxed. His smile this time was genuine. “I am glad.”
“May I see it, Pater?” came a soft voice, and the old man’s daughter stepped forward. She took the portrait and studied it with great intensity, then turned it over. On the other side, the rejected first attempt stared back at her, and the corner of her mouth turned down just slightly.
“I must confess to a preference for the first piece,” she said, but even before she had finished, her father started shaking his head. “The first is more accurate-”
“Not now, Melite,” her father said, gently, but leaving no room for argument.
She looked embarrassed. “Of course,” she said. She handed the portrait back to the artist. “It is a wonderful piece of work, truly. I meant no insult.”
And with that, they left, the father with one comforting arm around his daughter’s waist.
When Melite returned to the artist’s shop two days later, she was alone.
“I have come to settle the payment,” she said to the artist, then hesitated and glanced over her shoulder, though the shop was empty. “And to make a small request.”
The artist looked her over shrewdly. “You may ask.”
She took a deep breath in. “Do not erase the first piece,” she said, eyes wide and pleading.
The artist blinked. This had not been what he expected. “Your father preferred the second,” he said. “And to speak truthfully, it is a more pleasing image. More flattering to your sister.” He turned and reached to retrieve the portrait. “See here, I have shortened the nose, lowered the eyes.”
“Yes,” she said softly. “She looks perfect.”
The artist spread his hands. “Well, then.”
She looked up at him. “I do not want her to be immortalised as perfect,” she said. There was an odd look in her eyes.
The artist frowned. “You disliked your sister?”
She looked at him coldly. “I loved my sister,” she said. “That is why I wish for her to be immortalised as she was. Not as perfect.”
“I cannot erase the second piece,” the artist said. “
Then don’t,” she said simply. “Have both. Her as she was, and as we wish she could have been.”
The artist looked at her closely. “I will not pretend to understand,” he said. “But she was your sister.”
She softened into a smile. “Thank you,” she whispered, and handed over the payment. She traced her hand over her sister’s imperfect face. “Goodbye,” she whispered, and walked away.
Success, too, for Elise Withey (Year 13) who came second in this year’s Classical Association Poetry Competition, for her poem Gilgamesh Tries Anti-Aging Mousse (read below).
3 in 1 Exfoliant + Nettoyant + Masque.
Who dared to pick the plant at world’s end
and make this potion, I ask? Who fought with Death
and took back this pink bottle as a trophy?
Deoxidised. Moisturised. Refreshed.
I have known the weight of river clay, how water shapes
its seashells into stone. Immortality is how
the stylus imprints syllables like
quick bird-steps darting deep across the silt
not in this rosy-scented slickness.
Rub well and let it foam.
Ah but it is nice to wash away the time
from these cheeks, this forehead. My years
sloughing off like snakeskin. Visibly Reduces
Wrinkles And Dark Spots. Do you see the change?
Rejuvenated. Reborn. Swallowed whole I feel.
Perhaps next I will try
the facial scrub.
Not unpleasant to the senses
although truthfully immortality
tingles a bit.
