By Lauren Costello, Gavel Writer -

Imagine living under a roof occupied by a soldier 24 hours a day, seven days a week. This soldier stands idly by as your house is attacked, as the steel rods over your windows are hit with large rocks, trash is thrown into your yard, and even when your house is invaded by illegal settlers who believe that God is on their side. Imagine this soldier intimidating visitors, listening in with his machine gun clearly visible and reporting their conversations.

This is exactly what life is like for the Palestinian family that I met in the contested city of Hebron/Al Khalil in the occupied West Bank. I was among a group of Boston College students that visited the area at the beginning of January. I was shocked and disturbed by the horrendous conditions in which Palestinians are forced to live.

No amount of reading in class could have prepared me for the experience of going through a checkpoint in the West Bank, for hearing anti-Arab racism casually, unselfconsciously expressed, or for seeing the daily injustices of life in “the world’s largest open air prison,” as one woman described her society.

One night we were abruptly awakened by an Israeli soldier yelling outside, demanding that the family car be moved to accomadate road closings. Seeing the silent exasperation on their faces quickly let me know that this was just another inconvenience that they had to accept.

Before my trip, I could have explained to you the history of the conflict and how the map of Palestine has been steadily decreasing since 1967 due to the checkpoints and the separation wall. I would have been able to argue which sociological framing of the conflict (apartheid, sociocide) made the most sense to me, and I could have made a convincing argument as to why I believe a one-state solution is the only just possibility for the region at this point. While this ‘conflict’ may appear to be a war between people – a war shaped by different religious and cultural beliefs – it is actually about power and control shaped by political interests that use racist ideology to breed hatred among its citizens.

Imagine, however, what it’s like to be a Palestinian child walking to school daily past graffiti that says: “What’s the difference between an Arab and a trampoline? You take off your shoes to jump on a tram¬poline.” Additionally, less than five minutes away a Palestinian market functions as usual, except for the steel mesh overhead designed to protect shoppers from the bricks, trash and sewage-filled plastic bags that Israeli settlers throw down on the market.

I could not have foreseen what we would learn during our home¬stays in the Dheisheh refugee camp in the holy city of Bethlehem. We met families who could not feed their children and had lived in Dheisheh for three generations but still managed to hope that one day their lives would be different.

In my host family, the parents now have two different identification cards, and the father will not be able to see the birth of his third child because he is banned from entering Jerusalem to go to the hospital ten minutes away from his house.

Along with the horror, we also saw enterprise and hope embodied in the Palestinian Fair Trade As¬sociation that brings organic olive oil to a Whole Foods near you. We saw the amazing persistence of a Prisoners’ Rights NGO (Adda¬meer) that continues to fight injustice despite the fact that they are working within a prejudiced court system and 70 percent of Palestinian men will spend time in jail.

Mostly, there is an incredible gallantry of daily non-violent resistance. The attempt to live an ordinary Palestinian life amid the checkpoints, land seizures, road closures, and daily insults is truly admirable. While Palestinians nev¬er get used to the daily assaults on their lives, large or small, they meet these difficulties with “sumud.” This means a mix of forbearance and steadfastness that my host family explained in this way: “You have to just do it and move on with your day, because if you let it get to you all the time, you’d go insane. You can’t stop living.”

In some ways our trip can be viewed much like every other service or immersion trip; we saw poverty, resilience, and the requi¬site number of cute, photogenic children. And like most service trips, we are now challenging ourselves to find ways to put our knowledge and our experience to work in service to the world.

This trip is distinguished by the fact that the injustices we saw were not produced by a natural disaster or the slowly unfolding consequences of our capitalist system. The gross injustice we witnessed is produced by an illegal occupation that is crucially supported by American foreign aid, your tax dollars and mine.

We also found that as Americans of conscience, we have strong partners in both Palestine and Israel. A broad array of Palestinian organizations (representing rural and urban, secular and religious groups, academics, professionals, craftspeople, folks in the West Bank, Gaza and the refugee camps of the diaspora) invite us to join with them in a program of boycotts, sanctions and divestments against Israel that would impose non-violent but real costs on the illegal occupation (with the full support and encouragement of Israeli NGOs and human rights organizations, such as Who Profits and Zochrot). We all left Palestine with a clear message: time is running out, and this issue could not be more urgent. The question now is this: how do we, at BC, take up this call to action?

By Lea Freeman, Asst. Culture Editor -

The Threepenny Opera, by Bertolt Brecht, will debut in Robsham Theater at the end of April. Directed by Boston College Theater Professor Stuart Hecht and with set design by fellow Professor Crystal Tiala, The Threepenny Opera examines the darker side of civilization. Set in a world where corruption is the norm, the musical’s lead character is a master-criminal and an antihero.

Hecht’s rendition sets itself apart from other earlier interpretations with a major change in setting. I Instead of occuring in 19th century England as originally written, this version takes place in a post-modern, abstract world. The entire set is designed to retain the mood and spirit of the original production minus the period and realism.

A major inspiration for the set was the Jewish Museum Berlin in Germany, designed by architect Daniel Libeskind and notable for its unique use of angles. Many of its walls and doorways do not intersect at right angles. The unexpected lines created by this design help to imply an unconventional and unfriendly world that doesn’t follow standard norms of right and wrong. Tiala attempts to create a strong sense of dehumanization with the set. By setting the play in a disconnected jumble of lines, shapes, and angles she hopes to create a world where humanity appears completely broken apart.

Set Designer Tiala attempts to create this world visually with a number of tricks, including the use of a projector. Employing a projector is a relatively new addition to theatre, but BC recently hired a projection designer, which allowed for the use of this dramatic device. The Threepenny Opera specifically uses the projector to add commentary, almost like a news report. Because the rest of the set is so abstract, the projector is very useful in announc¬ing changes in scenes and locations. The projector serves a dual pur¬pose; it both adds to the progression of the show and helps the audience see the world differently.

The Threepenny Opera is a slightly larger production than BC is used to. There are 27 cast members, about 50 workers in various shops, 10 members of the running crew and eight designers. Collaboration is an important aspect of theater, and there are certainly a lot of people involved and various visions to put together. Just deciding to change the setting from the 1830s was a huge step. Tiala first had to fully understand the director’s focus and then add her own visual aesthetic. Everyone is trying to take blank space and create their own world. Hecht provided Tiala with words and phrases such as “discom¬fort,” “disoriented,” “confusing,” “ugly city,” “uncomfortable,” and “unsafe” to help her understand the intended mood of the production.

“Once I know I’m right,” Tiala says, “the rest of the show comes together.” There are so many aspects of a play that have to come together to create a great production. The set designer has to work with light designers, costume designers, and sound designers to make sure to create the same world. The creative development of The Threepenny Opera started as far back as October.

“It’s important to have a visual direction and to know what the set is going to look like so the actors can know how to move through space,” Tiala says.

Tiala said she feels lucky to get to work with set design. “It’s the best job in the world. I get to design. I get to teach design. What could be better?”

Tiala has been working at BC for 11 years and has worked on approximately 35 different productions.

“They’re all my favorites,” she says. “Each production is completely unique and takes on a life of its own.”

The Threepenny Opera opens at the end of April on the main stage of Robsham.

By Daniel Monan, Culture Editor -

The Magicians, by Lev Grossman, is many things. It is a blatant parody of the Harry Potter and Narnia series. Yet, while other books have attempted to hop on the boy-wizard-bandwagon (to say nothing of the growing hoard of teen vampire rip-offs) it uses its associations with the previously mentioned series to its advantage, ultimately becoming something wholly different than anything seen before. Basic plot similarities aside, The Magicians possesses a dark and brooding quality that, while sometimes bordering on angst, neither J.K. Rowling nor C.S. Lewis would ever attempt. For this reason and many others, this is no children’s story. It is a remarkable book to be valued for its flaws as well as for its triumphs, and is certainly well worth a look.

The Magicians tells the story of Quinton, a disaffected teen looking for meaning in life. Quinton has spent his childhood reading and rereading a series of books set in “Fillory,” a magical land visited by a group of English schoolchildren, and an undisguised allusion to the Narnia books. He dreams of the kind of contentment it seems only magic can achieve. Predictably, Quinton soon learns that magic is real and that he has been accepted into the premiere school for magicians.

Grossman makes no attempt to hide the similarities to Harry Potter and makes ruthless use of those expectations. The Magicians is a novel written for those who grew up on Harry Potter and Narnia, not a copy of the same. Brilliant, often arrogant, and always insecure, Quinton is not Harry, nor are his friends the steadfast companions Harry has at Hogwarts. One would be hard pressed to say any of the characters are particularly likable, but they are undeniably entertaining. The lack of effort put into making them pleasant goes a long way towards making them believable characters.

Unlike other hero-protagonists with their inborn importance, Quinton is not a “chosen one.” He has no destiny or direction, and this becomes the chief focus of the novel. He and his friends occupy their time with the standard college pursuits of alcohol, sex, drug-use and occasional studying, throughout which Quinton faces a subtle but near constant existential crisis as he realizes magic gives no more meaning to his life than life in the ordinary world.

Eventually, it is revealed that Fillory, the Narnia-esque world from the stories of his youth, is a real place. Desperate for an escape from his despondent state, Quinton leaps at the chance to go. He and his friends embark on a sort of “quest to find a quest,” seeking some adventure that will end the despondency they feel. This journey will cost them more than any of them realize.

As said before, Grossman borrows shamelessly from the themes of Harry Potter and Narnia to complete his novel, but none of this is a bad thing. It is easy to believe in Quinton, terribly envious of the ready-made destinies and purposes that are so common in books. The success of The Magicians hinges on Grossman’s subtle but constant argument that, despite all of the hardships characters in stories face, none can compete with the apathy inherent in magically having every¬thing one could possibly want.

Putting aside the plot similarities, the writing of The Magicians is clean and precise, with a wonderful economy to the detail and description of the surrounding world. There are several indications that Grossman still has maturing to do as a writer. For example, he introduces secondary characters who vanish never to be seen again and there are points where the pace drags a bit, but none of this particularly hinders the book’s purpose from realization. Without revealing too much, the ending is not one that everyone will enjoy but still feels right in the context of the book. It is at the end where Grossman’s rather cynical philosophy comes out most strongly, forcing the reader to be paradoxically satisfied with a certain level of dissatisfaction.

The Magicians is Grossman’s third book, making him still a relatively early arrival to the writing scene. Hopefully, his next work will overcome some of the issues that affect The Magicians, but until then, The Magicians is still very much worth the time of anyone who has ever been left cold by the too-perfect fantasy worlds they visited in their youth.

The Gavel presents itself as “the progressive news source of Boston College.” What do we mean by “progressive news source?” How does our definition of “progressive” shape the presence and role of our publication? These are some of the questions we hope to answer for readers and in so doing assert ourselves as a new, independent campus media organization. Continue Reading