In this edition:
Message from the board, by Ammerins Moss-de Boer
Join RUGConnect!, by Marjan Brouwers
Death of a linguist, by Ammerins Moss-de Boer
Unforgettable books: Dame Dench, by Elke Maasbommel
We are SIX, by Marjan Brouwers
It’s a Mystery! A new series by Reinou Anker-Sollie, Marjan Brouwers and others (we hope)
Studying in the eighties, by Marjan Brouwers
Christmas quiz, by Reinou Anker-Sollie
Save the dates!
Books & Booze Romeo & Juliette special: Friday 7th of March 2025, 17.00 hours at Walter’s Bookshop. We will discuss the original play and the Young Adult novel Waking Romeo by Kathryn Barker.
Romeo en Julia: an indoor theatre production in Diever: Saturday 8th of March 2025, 20.00 hours. Tickets available here!
A wet winterland …
By Ammerins Moss-de Boer, Chair of the Alumni Club
While I am writing this introduction, it is raining cats and dogs outside. I just got into the office after a windy bike ride on an empty e-bike, and the battery should be currently charging, but I don’t see any lights yet… Is this karma for putting up the Christmas tree too early?
On days like this, all you want to do is just curl up on the sofa under a warm blanket, with flickery candles on the table, a warm beverage, some moody music in the background and a good book. But… there is work to do first, as, even though it is quite dark outside, the clock says it is only 11AM…!
Anyway, on a lighter note… We have a right royal Anglophile for you! Not only does it contain a review of the musical SIX, about the six wives of Henry VIII, which came to Groningen in November, but we also have a review of the semi-autobiographical book by the grand dame of theatre, Dame Judy Dench, on her relationship with Shakespeare. If you haven’t read it, make sure you do. It gives some great and very funny insights in her roles in Shakespeare plays. The audio book is also a good alternative, if, like me, you like reading books with your eyes closed.
There are lots of things happening at the RUG that deserve your attention. Marjan wrote about RUG Connect: a new system to stay in touch with your alma mater and fellow students. She also talked to to the new Professor of Modern Literature, prof. Julia Kühn. This interview will be posted in our next edition in 2025. Talking about our own days in college, we have now arrived in the eighties in our series on student experiences, and Marjan herself is spilling a few beans about her time here.
The cosy crime enthusiasts among us will enjoy Reinou’s first instalment of her series on detectives and sleuths. She has also made a fun Christmas Quiz for us all to complete. Have fun!
Make sure you also put the dates for the Books & Booze and also: get your ticket for Romeo & Julia in Diever in spring!
We hope you have a great Christmas and look forward to seeing as many of you as possible at one of our events!
Join RUGConnect
By Marjan Brouwers
February 2025 is the big day: that’s when RUGConnect will go live: a brand-new digital platform you can use to find old friends and stay in touch with your good old university. It will be safe, private platform, only accessible for students, employees and alumni. Study and alumni associations, such as ours, will be invited to create their own page on RUGConnect.
Anyone registering will automatically be placed in the group of their own field of study. In addition, for alumni living abroad, a group will be created for each country.
RUGConnect looks a lot like LinkedIn (Johannes Epping, alumni officer granted me a sneak peak the other day). It will only be available to members of the RUG community: alumni, students and staff. The platform started out as a career and alumni platform, but gradually changed into a kind of digital marketplace with a wide range of opportunities to facilitate and strengthen connections within and outside the academic community.
When you sign up, you first create your own profile page, adding information you wish to share. You can show who you are, what you have to offer and what you are looking for. Would you like to guide students as a coach or mentor? Or perhaps you are willing to give a talk about a subject close to your heart. You can also find old acquaintances and contact them through the chat function. Are you ready to take a new step in your career? Or perhaps you are looking for academic talents to join your own organisation. Check out the vacancies that will be published by members of the network.
Interested? We will keep you posted! And you can find the latest about RUGConnect here.
Death of the linguist?
by Ammerins Moss-de Boer
As we near the end of the year and life begins to quiet down, it’s the perfect time to reflect on the rollercoaster of a year we’ve just experienced. It has been a year full of upheaval—not just politically, but also within our own field. As linguists of all stripes, we’ve faced developments that are, and I say this cautiously, shaking the very foundations of our profession.
Colleagues in university education are seeing their hours reduced or are even losing their jobs as language and literature courses are being cut on the one hand (“Who needs art and culture anyway? It’s a left-wing hobby!”). Meanwhile, schools are desperately searching for qualified teachers as the numbers coming out of teacher training programmes and universities plummet—a crisis only exacerbated by these programme cuts. Translators and interpreters are watching loyal clients walk away (“Why hire a translator when ChatGPT can do the same ‘trick’?”), while editors and content writers are told to “just write something quick—we’re on a tight budget.”
It would almost make you want to curl up into a ball and take a very long winter sleep, hoping that when you wake up, the world will look a bit brighter.
Turning the tide
So, what can we do? On our own, not much. But, as the demonstrations in The Hague at the end of November showed, there is growing support for our cause and plight. More and more political parties are realizing that while the emphasis on STEM has driven economic growth, the humanities are equally vital for keeping society… well… human—a place worth living in. But still, things are a-changing.
As I saw when I attended the Translating Europe Forum (TEF) in Brussels a few weeks ago, there is a very active community within Europe that is trying to redesign and activate the field of linguistics. They’re encouraging a forward-looking mindset—to get people to realize and recognize that the future will be vastly different. Consider this: of every seven children starting primary school today, five will work in jobs that don’t yet exist. Graduates joining the workforce now (welcome, new alumni—I hope I haven’t talked you into a depression!) will find themselves in careers that look nothing like the ones we embarked on when we got our degrees several decades ago.
One thing is already clear: amazing language skills alone are no longer enough. No employer today is advertising for “an English graduate with perfect command of the language in speech and writing, preferably for the commercial market in Europe and overseas” (which, incidentally, was what the job vacancy said I applied to back in 1998…)
Bridging the gap
To what extent are our today’s degrees taking these developments into account and do they prepare students for this changing world? Do they include courses on cultural interpretation, communication, technology, business skills and entrepreneurship? In that sense, it makes sense that language programmes are combined to a certain degree, to offer students those trans-sectoral skills that they need in the job market of today and the future…
But what about those of us who already have a degree and are wondering how to navigate these turbulent times? The answer is simple: learn to code and embrace AI. Become the expert on the latest technologies that intersect with your field. Make yourself indispensable—the person your clients or employers turn to for clarity and solutions. Because trust me, they will.
Take it from me: as a translator, I and many colleagues experienced a sharp drop in assignments when ChatGPT first came onto the scene. But over the past six months, clients have been coming back—often with their tail between their legs—because they realized they couldn’t bridge the gap between language and technology on their own. I used my time wisely to get to know my enemy and learn exactly what its strengths and weaknesses are. Now, I can leverage these AI tools effectively, offering clients a unique service, combining technological skills with professional linguistic expertise.
So, no matter your age or where you are in your career: get active, get involved, and stay curious. Just as we love reading new novels and poetry, and stay up to date with sociolinguistic trends, we need to stay informed about technology. It has been part of our profession for decades, helping us do our jobs better. Let’s ensure that’s what it continues to do—support us in shaping the future of our field, while we stay in the driving seat.
Of course, I sometimes long for the days when I translated physical books with a trusty dictionary by my side. But I’ve embraced the tools of today, and quality-wise, I can now create translations that are just as good—if not better—in far less time. As one presenter at TEF put it: we shouldn’t settle for being “the human in the loop”. Instead, we must claim our place in the cockpit and drive this change ourselves.
Just in case you haven’t signed the petition against the budget cuts yet, here you go, please do!
https://campagnes.degoedezaak.org/campaigns/stop-de-bezuinigingen-op-hoger-onderwijs
Unforgettable books
Judi Dench: The Man Who Pays the Rent
By Elke Maasbommel
The Man Who Pays the Rent does not sound like a particularly compelling book subtitle. If I were to write about that, I would have to write about the school where I work. Or, since I am technically a government employee, “the man” would take on another meaning altogether. It would help, therefore, to know that the woman who wrote a book with that title is Judi Dench, and that the man she is talking about is William Shakespeare. In this book, Shakespeare: The Man Who Pays the Rent, she talks about each role she’s ever played in the Bard’s oeuvre. And it makes for a particularly compelling read, indeed.
Written as an interview between Dench and fellow actor Brendan O’Hea, she shares her memories about each woman she’s played in the name of William Shakespeare. Gifted with an excellent memory, she shares details about every aspect of being an actor, whether it be costumes, her fellow actors, or her opinion on directorial decisions.
The book starts with Dench’s reflections on MacBeth, in which she has played Lady MacBeth. She claims it was the reason she went into theatre in the first place. The reason: ‘My God – swearing! If this is Shakespeare this is for me.’ It shows how Dench, who is often considered one of the Great Dames of Theatre, is still a little girl at heart – and proudly so. Shakespeare: The Man Who Pays the Rent is part autobiography and part footnote to Shakespeare’s works.
It is known in the theatre world, for instance, that Judi Dench is a prankster. Her audience finally learns about this in her book. Apparently, she made Kenneth Branagh once laugh while on stage that he could hardly remain standing. She once decided she could do a short part in Les Miserables, which was playing in a theatre next to the one in which she was playing the Countess of Roussillon in All’s Well That Ends Well, during which she overacted being shot, then was told she wasn’t supposed to die, acted coming back to life, and then hurried back to the other theatre. These anecdotes are a joy to read.
It’s not all fun and games, though. Being a Shakespearean actor is hard work. You have to know everything there is to know about the play itself, about the language, and what Shakespeare meant by it. Thankfully, Dench is more than willing to talk about that as well. She mentions which plays she likes and which ones she doesn’t (The Merchant of Venice is particularly dreadful, in her opinion), and how she went about playing them. Sometimes, she bursts out in verse, which, much to O’Hea’s surprise, she is able to recall word for word, commenting on stressing particular words and their importance while doing so, even if she played the character decades ago.
Those who are well versed in Shakespeare might comment that it’s not that hard to know entire plays by heart. They might say they know better than Dench herself when and why Shakespeare wrote his plays, and what specific words are supposed to mean. Experts might say they’re interested in the Bard, not in an actor claiming she’s played almost every woman that he’s penned down (including small roles such as the First Fairy in A Midsummer Night’s Dream, and famous ones such as Ophelia and Juliet). It’s not often, however, that one reads about Shakespeare with such enthusiasm and passion. Everyone should be able to learn something from Dench.
This year, Judi Dench officially retired as an actor due to diminishing eyesight. Thankfully, she has published this book, which means we can enjoy her insights for years to come. He might be the man who pays the rent, but Judi Dench shows that playing Shakespeare must be the best job in the world.
We are SIX!
Divorced, Beheaded, Died, Divorced, Beheaded, Survived
By Marjan Brouwers
These words used to help schoolkids memorising King Henry VIII’s six wives, but they also form the famous first lyrics of the musical SIX. Originally, this musical by Toby Marlow and Lucy Moss was performed at the Edinburgh Fringe festival in 2017. It is a retelling of the lives of the six wives presented as a pop concert. All the wives take turns to tell how badly they were treated by Henry, competing with each other to determine who had been worse off.
After this humble start SIX became extremely popular and the musical is performed the year round all over the world. Fans dress up as their favourite queen, singing along with the lyrics. Twice now the show came to the Netherlands for shows in Amsterdam and Groningen, where my youngest daughter took me in October as a belated birthday present.
Now, we didn’t dress up in a queenly way, but we certainly enjoyed ourselves. The show is dazzling, the costumes glittering and the lyrics are very funny and sometimes heartbreaking. I particularly enjoyed the performance of Anne of Cleves. Anne, of course, is said to have been very ugly and not at all like her portrait by Hans Holbein. Well, she disagrees!
You, you said that I tricked ya
‘Cause I, I didn’t look like my profile pictureToo, too bad I don’t agree
So I’m gonna hang it up for everyone to see
I also really enjoyed Anne Boleyn’s lyrics:
Sorry, not sorry bout’, what I said,
I’m just tryna’ have some fun.
Don’t worry, don’t worry,
Don’t lose your head,
I didn’t mean to hurt anyone…
Each queen is modelled on famous pop stars and their songs, like Adele, Lily Allen, Celine Dion, Britney Spears and of course Beyoncé. The show got me thinking about the queens. As soon as I got home, I started reading about them and even better: I found a really interesting podcast discussing the queens and their significance. In the Historic Royal Palaces Podcast, which was recorded a year ago, each queen gets an episode. You can find this podcast here:
Of course, you can also listen to SIX. All the songs are available on Spotify too:
It’s a Mystery! A new series!
By Reinou Anker-Sollie
Have you ever realised at some point in time, that something you love does not make you the odd one out, but is, in fact, quite popular? Now, I love SciFi, and I know I’m part of a huge fan base where e.g. Star Trek, Star Wars, and Marvel are concerned. But I also love murder mysteries. As a kid I read The Famous Five by Enid Blyton and Nancy Drew Mystery Stories, and as a teenager I became acquainted with the works of Agatha Christie (thanks to my big brother who had the books). Naturally I also got acquainted with the works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle but perhaps I was a tad too young because I didn’t quite appreciate Sherlock and Dr Watson until I saw them on tv (with the enticing Benedict Cumberbatch). During my burn-out many years later, I couldn’t really read “substantial” books and I discovered the genre of cosy mysteries. A whole world opened up to me. You can’t imagine how many there are: I’ve read books about a librarian, a cupcake baker and, one of my favourites, a small town bookstore/coffeeshop owner solving murders and having run ins with local police enforcement. In approximately the same period, I discovered BBC First, which is a tv station completely devoted to sleuths and detectives. It introduced me to some interesting, and pretty old sleuths such as Agatha Raisin. Always cool when tv gets you excited about reading books.
It was not until Marjan and I were speaking about a new series for the Anglophile, that I realised the murder mysteries are quite popular and an important part of British culture! The more we talked, the more enthusiastic we got, so there it is: The introduction to a series on murder mysteries. I asked my helpful friend ChatGPT to give me an overview of (the many) Murder Mystery genres and sort them by popularity. Naturally this is not set in stone. It’s a dynamic list since popularity differs per region and changes over time, and the division into genres is also one of may. But it gives us a general overview we can use for this series. This is what ChatPGT came up with, I added the last one myself:
1. Traditional Mystery
- Still hugely popular due to the enduring appeal of classic whodunits and iconic authors like Agatha Christie. Modern authors also keep this genre alive.
2. Cozy Mystery
- A perennial favourite for its light-hearted and accessible style, with countless series enjoyed by readers who prefer non-gritty mysteries.
3. Police Procedural
- Often tied to bestselling crime fiction and widely adapted into popular TV series like Law & Order or Broadchurch.
4. Psychological Mystery
- Recently gained massive popularity, especially with bestsellers like Gone Girl and The Girl on the Train.
5. Hard-Boiled Mystery
- Classic, gritty mysteries featuring private investigators remain a cultural touchstone, though they are slightly less prominent in modern times compared to their mid-20th-century heyday.
6. Noir Mystery
- The dark and morally complex style is often appreciated by a niche audience but has enduring appeal, especially in film adaptations.
7. Legal Thriller
- John Grisham and similar authors keep this genre thriving, though it is more prominent in the United States than elsewhere.
8. Historical Mystery
- Gaining popularity with authors like C.J. Sansom and historical fiction fans who enjoy a strong sense of time and place in their mysteries.
9. Espionage Mystery
- While classics like John le Carré’s works remain beloved, espionage mysteries are less dominant compared to spy thrillers that emphasize action.
10. Supernatural Mystery
- Appeals to a niche audience that enjoys blending mystery with paranormal or fantasy elements.
11. Action/Adventure Mystery
- Popular among fans of fast-paced, high-stakes stories but overshadowed by broader action-thriller genres.
12. True Crime
- Although incredibly popular in podcast and documentary formats, true crime books occupy a smaller niche within traditional publishing.
13. None of the above
- Room for mysteries with a twist, such as Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency by Douglas Adams.
In the next Anglophile I will tackle the whodunnit, where I will write about my love and Agatha’s hate for Monsieur Poirot, and where I will revisit a G.U.T.S. performance I saw of The Real Inspector Hound during my studies, and I will discuss a few of my favourite sleuths.
If you feel like writing about a specific murder mystery genre, please let us know! Your input is absolutely welcome. You can now contact the editors at our new email address: angloredactie@gmail.com
Studying in the eighties
By Marjan Brouwers
Hooked!
‘Why don’t you visit the voorlichtingsdagen at the University, my dear?’ my mother asked me one day. I was studying for my vwo exams and had already decided I would become a librarian. No need to consider any other options, thank you very much, mom. And why in earth would I go to university? Nobody did in our village. ‘But you really like English as a subject, so you could give it a try,’ she persisted. So, my mom and I went to Groningen for a presentation by Koos Gräper and Koos Wedema on Saturday 18th of October 1980. Like magic the academic setting got to me. That day I was hooked and never even considered becoming a librarian again.
People who know me, may wonder why I didn’t go in for Dutch language and literature instead of English, since nowadays I mainly write Dutch articles, stories and novels. Well, once I had decided to go to university, it never entered my mind to choose anything else. The main reason was my dear pen friend Pippa Denton from Bromsgrove. From the age of 13, the two of us happily wrote letters about our life as teenagers, popstars and television series (she even got me a Doctor Who novel signed by Tom Baker himself). We met a couple of times, spending Christmas and summer holidays together. Of course, my English really improved as a result of writing all those letters and I even acquired quite an authentic Midlands accent. For years we remained friends, until we lost touch in the noughties, reconnected in 2020 and then she suddenly passed away three years ago. I am still sorry we didn’t get the chance to meet one more time. Cheers to dearest Pip.
Cheap red wine, chili con carne and student life
So, in August 1981, I checked in at a sleep-in for KEI-students who hadn’t found a room yet (or who, like me, were going to stay home in their first year). I got my information pack at the Academiegebouw and cycled all the way to Beijum to meet my KEI leaders and fellow students. We got to know each other over cheap red wine and chili con carne (what else) and I was pleased to meet someone who was also going to study English: Monique Swennenhuis. We became great friends. Not only during our time at the English department but to this very day. Of course, the KEI week was a revelation for a village girl who was only used to dancing in the Tox Bar on Schiermonnikoog and De Kruisweg in Marum.
First-year weekend in Appelscha
After the KEI week (which, by the way, lasted seven days instead of only five like now. We were a bunch of tough cookies!) student life started for real. I fondly remember our first-year weekend in Appelscha, going wild in the woods, dancing to disco music (it was the eighties, people!), drinking beer (bitter lemon in my case: at the tender age of 18 I hadn’t yet acquired a taste for wine or beer, though I would not say no to a bessen-cola) and performing during the Bonte Avond. Lots of older students were there as well, including Hans Jansen, who must have been in his fourth or fifth year at the time. It was a wonderful way to get to know each other and our future teachers, who came to visit us.
No more eternal students
Now, we were a special bunch of students. We would be the very last group to take the kandidaats and doctoraal exams. In 1982 the so-called tweefasenstructuur was introduced, which meant that the overall length of study was drastically reduced. The days of the eternal student were over and most of us would stick around for six or seven years (instead of ten years or more), while younger students graduated long before we finally did.
Squeaky library door
As Annie wrote in previous editions, the English department was situated on the third floor of the Alfagebouw in the Grote Kruisstraat in those days. Downstairs in the canteen you could buy watery coffee that was so hot your plastic cup would melt. But the gardens were wonderful and a lot more spacious than they are today. We had our own library on the third floor, which was, at least for us first-year students, a rather intimidating place, where serious students would study in utter silence. The only sound would be the gut-wrenching squeak of the door when we tried to sneak in without disturbing anyone. We were to spend a lot of time there, perusing books, writing down notes and looking up obscure references. Mind you, laptops and the internet had not been invented yet.
Paul Floor and Polonius
Even after 43 years (really?), I clearly remember our first lecture by Paul Floor. He was amazing, acting out the famous Hamlet scene when Polonius is stabbed to death behind a curtain. I also remember translation classes by Ank de Witt Wijnen and Liesbeth Verpalen, poetry classes by Jan Verleun, phonetics by Jan Posthumus and quite terrifying Old English by Anthony Davies. Downstairs in the basement, we practiced our English pronunciation. Bakker’s American Literature classes were obligatory: maybe because they were scheduled on Friday afternoons.
Remembering WordPerfect
Later on, I think in our second year, we had to cycle all the way to Zernike to learn how to use a computer. We were used to writing our essays and other work by hand or an old-fashioned typewriter. None of us owned a personal computer in those days: although IBM presented the first personal computer in 1981, followed by the introduction of the first Macintosh in 1984, it would be years before we could afford such an expensive machine. For some reason, we were expected to go the computer centre to learn basic programming, using Pascal and Basic. This was not useful at all, until we learned to use an actual word processor, called WordPerfect. Sometimes, when Microsoft Word is getting me down, I am homesick for WP, especially because of its so-called underwater screen, where you could find hidden codes that made a mess of your text.
HEL
So, there we were, al eighty something of us, trying very hard to keep up. By November, most of us were behind. We had to write essays, read a novel and a couple of very long and often incomprehensible poems each week, learn loads of pages of idiom by heart, translate the most obscure texts and improve our pronunciation of modern as well as Old English. Syntax was one of the subjects that didn’t make any sense to me at all, but I loved reading all those novels. During the History of English Language (HEL) lectures by professor Gerritsen, we usually hid in the back, heatedly discussing the latest episode of Dynasty, which in hindsight I regret. Today, I would be genuinely interested in this subject, but my 18-year-old self didn’t care a fig about how the English language had evolved through the ages.
Reciting poetry in De Drie Gezusters
The big difference between school and university for me was that attendance was not obligatory. You could stay away if you wanted. Of course, this was frowned upon, especially by the illustrious duo Verpalen & De Witt Wijnen, who – in retrospect – were just keeping an eye on us young ones. But I loved skipping lectures and going to De Drie Gezusters with Monique, Syca, Marleen and Marianne instead. Especially when someone would play the piano and we would recite poetry at the top of our voices, but only when no one could hear us over the music. Great times!
Mentor groups and darts competition
To get us through our first year in one piece, we were all assigned to small mentor groups. Our mentor was a very youthful Henk Dragstra, who kindly invited us over to his home in Stedum for a pleasant summer picknick at the end of our first year. Then, there were The English Student Club meetings in Het Hijgend Hert, which were great fun. Sinterklaas came to call, and we were treated to a wonderful live concert by Rooie Rinus and Pé Daalemmer. We had a darts competition and with my beginner’s luck I defeated old hand Con Diender, to be soundly beaten by Jan Posthumus himself in the final round.
The lucky ones
By the end of our first year, things were changing rapidly. Some of us decided English was not their cup of tea. Others lagged behind and had to retake some or most of their first-year subjects. There was no bindend studieadvies in those days. Repeating your first year was considered to be completely normal. After all, student life took up so much time. Little did we realise that those poor students starting university in 1982 didn’t have that luxury anymore. We were the lucky ones.
Leaving home instead of accepting an ugly car
For most of my first year I stayed at home, which was not always fun. The last bus to Midwolde used to leave around eight in the evening, and I didn’t like cycling home in the middle of the night. My sleeping bag sort of lived at Monique’s place and more often than not I stayed there overnight. At first, my dad tried to stick to his rule that I should stay home for at least two years. Selling cars was his business and so he offered me something he thought I couldn’t refuse: a car of my own (a Citroën 2CV no less, my favourite) if I decided to stay home. So, I moved to my student room in Coendersborg in April 1982! No way I was staying in Midwolde, while student life in Groningen beckoned.
To be continued!
Christmas Quiz
By Reinou Anker-Sollie
Please follow this link to the Google Form to do our Christmas Quiz.