My Oxford Year: A Novel

“‘She’s, like, a deity in the lit crit world. Her specialty is Tennyson, which isn’t exactly my area. Not at all, actually. I work in politics. American politics. But this whole year for me is about pushing boundaries, and exploring new things, and basically just, like, leveling up. As a person?’ Why am I rambling? Why do I feel like a fog is rolling into my head? Oh. Jet lag.”

Ella dumps all this information on Simon, the chef at the Happy Cod, because she cannot help but gush about her opportunity. She explicitly acknowledges how her year at Oxford is about changing her outlook, exploring opportunities she would have otherwise missed, and enriching her life outside of politics. However, the ending of this passage undermines her excitement by defaulting to terms like “rambling” and “fog,” which imply that her excitement is unusual, even for her.

“I jerk my head to the blonde. ‘So I see.’ This strikes him. His face changes. The open, breezy, devil-may-care smile drops away and a curtain closes behind his eyes. The show is over. He actually looks hurt. Good. ‘Keep your money,’ I say, capitalizing on this moment of clarity, of the tables having turned, seizing a parting shot. ‘Buy the historian some carbs.’”

Ella’s desire to hurt Jamie comes from her assumption that he is unpleasant and arrogant, while Jamie’s pain comes from his own shame at trying to bury his pain in random sex. They both misunderstand each other, here, and it is only near the end of the novel that Ella learns how Jamie just found out his cancer had returned, which prompted his spontaneous date with the “historian.” In a sense, the rest of the novel is a journey to undo this misunderstanding.

“‘Sorry, but there was an undeniable bit of chemistry going between—’ ‘No there wasn’t!’ I leap to my own defense. ‘I’m not remotely attracted to Jamie Davenport.’ They all just look at me. Together. As if they’d rehearsed it. I reach for another scone. ‘Besides, I’m only here until June. It’s all about Oxford. And travel! The last thing I need is a relationship.’ ‘Then maybe he’s perfect, after all.’ Charlie smirks.”

Ella’s desperation in trying to show that she is not attracted to Jamie, which she attempts even internally, is about distancing herself from any chance at being hurt. This reasoning backfires in this passage, as Charlie notes how Ella’s predetermined departure date ensures that she cannot get truly close to anyone, which aligns with Jamie’s pattern of having short, meaningless relationships. The Transformative Power of Love and Loss is foreshadowed here, since Ella’s defensive denial sets up her eventual realization that risking intimacy, even when it leads to grief, gives life deeper meaning.

“Thus, if thou wilt prove me, Dear,/Woman’s love no fable./I will love thee—half a year—/As a man is able. Damn, EBB. Telling it like it is, like it’s apparently always been, all the way back in 1846. I have my poem. Even better that it basically describes the person who assigned the essay. Do with that what you will, Davenport.”

The poem Ella chooses by Elizabeth Barrett Browning claims that men cannot love women for more than six months, which Ella links to Jamie’s reputation for promiscuity. However, her decision to write about a poem that is not about her own feelings undermines the purpose of the assignment, leading Jamie to confront her about her analytical work. Much as with her relationships, Ella is uncomfortable letting the poetry get too close to her own experiences and feelings, preferring to focus on others instead. There is irony to Ella citing Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s cynical poem to avoid vulnerability, when Barrett Browning herself became famous for her passionate love sonnets. Whelan layers historical irony into Ella’s misapplication of the poem.

“‘I’m not interested in your opinion.’ ‘James, this is absurd—’ ‘Add it to the list, then.’ ‘We are your family!’ the older voice yells. ‘By birth! Nothing more, nothing less,’ Davenport shoots back, half as loud but doubly cutting. Then, more muffled, ‘Excuse me, I’ve got work to do.’ ‘I came to you, in the middle of my workday—’ ‘Were you asked to come? Leave.’”

This argument between Jamie and William occurs early in the novel, when readers cannot have the necessary context to understand it. In retrospect, however, this fight shows how Jamie shuts his father out of his life, coming close to disowning his family to avoid letting them control his treatments and behavior. William tries to persuade Jamie through guilt, which he later learns is ineffective in convincing Jamie, and which adds significance to the guilt Jamie feels when Ella thinks he has betrayed her.

“What the hell is wrong with me? I’ve never done something like that before. Hit someone. Yes, he arguably deserved it, that’s not what’s bothering me. I’m bothering me. My reaction. I’ve never been that out of control.”

Though brief, Ella’s acknowledgement that she is gradually losing control of herself and her surroundings is critical in understanding the development of her relationship with Jamie. While Ella is not proud of using violence, it marks the beginning of her acceptance that some elements in her life are beyond her control. As Ella does more impulsive things, she is also getting closer to overcoming her fears of loss and grief. Ella’s use of self-questioning ties to the novel’s larger pattern of interior monologue, a device that makes her inner conflicts more immediate to readers.

“When you feel more than you can say, when words fail you, when syntax and grammar and well-constructed expressions are choked from your mind and all that’s left is raw feeling, a few broken words come forth. I’d like to believe those words, when everything’s stripped away, might be the key to it all. The meaning of life. I’d like to think it’s possible to remain so devoted to someone’s memory that fifty-nine years later, when all the noise of life is muted, the last gasp passing over your lips is that person’s name.”

Jamie’s explanation of Tennyson’s writing and love reflect his own desire to believe in love that lasts beyond loss and death. Jamie knows that he is dying, much like Oliver, and he sees comfort in the idea that Cecelia or Ella would remain devoted to him or Oliver long after their deaths. The value, for Jamie, lies in the impact that he might have on someone else, which he hopes he can find in Ella. The passage embodies Illness as a Catalyst for Reevaluating Life Choices, as Jamie reinterprets poetry through the lens of mortality, and also anticipates The Transformative Power of Love and Loss, since he wants to be remembered in love after death.

“Jamie’s dreamy voice cuts through the silence. ‘In late spring you’ll have to come back and punt properly. Before you go home.’ I notice he doesn’t include himself in this future outing. I don’t turn to look at him.”

Ella notes how Jamie removes himself from the plan to return in the spring, but she does not fully understand why Jamie does not see himself returning. On one hand, he may die before the spring, and on the other, he plans to distance himself from Ella to avoid having her see him deteriorate. For Ella, though, this note is a sign that Jamie is keeping his distance, as he expects her to, because they are not meant to stay together forever.

“I realize I haven’t spoken in a while. Jamie has been quietly waiting. I remember where I left off in the story; cops at the door, mother crying, father dead. I clear my throat. ‘First thing I remember thinking was, “I’m never having my birthday hot chocolate.”’ I had cried about that. I sobbed about it. I fixated on not having the hot chocolate so I wouldn’t think about what else I’d never have again.”

Though the hot chocolate triggers Ella’s memory of her father, the critical elements in this passage are that Ella is opening up to Jamie, which she has never done with anyone else, and the fixation on hot chocolate was only a distraction from her grief. Regardless of their plans to remain distant, Ella is bridging the gap between herself and Jamie while also beginning to address her fear of loss and death. This moment directly illustrates The Transformative Power of Love and Loss, as Ella begins to let Jamie into the grief that has defined her since adolescence, moving from avoidance to vulnerability.

“‘No,’ Jamie answers bluntly. ‘There is no cure, actually.’ I stifle a groan, feeling Oliver’s condemnation at my core. Jamie looks at the steering wheel. ‘I’m sorry, Ella, I should’ve been more forthcoming. I’m simply not one to go on about such things. But now you can better understand the demands on my time. I take him to treatment in London and stay on with him afterward.’”

Rather than tell Ella the truth, Jamie lies and claims that Oliver is receiving treatment. The issue with this lie is less that Jamie is being dishonest and more that he is being dishonest even though Ella has just revealed more of herself to him. Despite Ella’s growing attachment, Jamie is still afraid to get too close to Ella, marking the difference in how Ella and Jamie are experiencing this relationship. Jamie’s claim about Oliver shows how withholding information functions as narrative tension. Structurally, this delays the full reveal of Jamie’s illness while building mistrust between him and Ella.

“Within a minute I’m fully assimilated, just another rain-slicked body in the crowd. I love to dance. Ever since I was a kid. It was therapeutic. Why did I stop? I used to dance every day after school. Put on the radio and just go to town. When did I become the serious adult who runs five miles a day instead of dancing by herself in her own damn apartment?”

Dancing, like hot chocolate, is another element in Ella’s history that helps explain how the loss of her father and subsequent struggle with her mother affected her life. Dancing is usually associated with freedom, loss of control, and sensuality, all of which are missing from Ella’s structured life and career. To answer her question, she became a serious adult when her father died and she was forced to take care of her mother. Ella’s rhetorical questions frame her childhood memory as a moment of lost innocence, with dancing functioning as a symbol of freedom she must reclaim.

“‘Multiple myeloma.’ I stop pacing. ‘Isn’t that…what Oliver had?’ Jamie nods. ‘Isn’t that what killed him?’ Jamie nods again. ‘So, you’re dying?’ How is my voice so calm? I might as well be asking him why he wore those particular pants today. I know I’m not handling this well, but I can’t find any rationality, any objectivity, any of the skills I usually have at my disposal. I’ve never felt this untethered. Well. Not in twelve years, anyway.”

What Ella describes is a detachment from the current situation, which reminds her of how she felt after her father died and she had to stifle her own grief to support her mother. In this moment, she is effectively standing outside the situation, looking in and responding with coldness and anger, largely because she does not want to risk the pain she might feel if she was fully present in the moment. This connection demonstrates Illness as a Catalyst for Reevaluating Life Choices, since Jamie’s illness forces Ella to confront unresolved grief and reconsider how to live in the shadow of loss.

“When my dad died, my mother made it quite clear that I had to be the strong one. That I couldn’t fall apart, because she needed me. It was the ultimate bait and switch. For twelve years, she’d been the mom and I’d been the child; those were the rules of our world. And she just decided those weren’t the rules anymore and I was trapped. I stare at Jamie. Another rule change. Another bait and switch.”

The most important element in Ella’s comparison between Jamie and her mother is the implication of malice and intention. The term “bait and switch” implies that her mother intentionally tricked Ella into caring for her after her father’s death, which, too, would need to be part of her mother’s plan. Likewise, Ella’s description implies that Jamie got sick, dated Ella, and tricked her, all intentionally, to trap her. The repeated metaphor of “bait and switch” shows Ella’s tendency to narrativize grief as betrayal. This figurative language exposes how she misdirects her anger, assigning intent where there is none.

“I focus on what Jamie just said. If Oliver had been diagnosed last, he might still be alive. Which means the reverse is also true: if Jamie had been diagnosed first, he would be dead. I would have never met him. I would have come to Oxford, lived at Oxford, studied at Oxford, drunk at Oxford, had sex at Oxford, but not had Jamie’s Oxford. The idea that I could have missed him in this life by a matter of years, two small insignificant years, an infinitesimal moment in the history of the earth, a geological blink, paralyzes me.”

The moment Ella considers the idea of missing out on a relationship, rather than just the possibility of loss in a relationship, her perspective shifts, allowing her to see how abstaining from a choice can be just as bad as taking a choice and losing. The hypothetical world in which she does not meet Jamie scares her because, unlike loving Jamie and losing him, this world offers no consolation. Though she would not face the grief of losing Jamie, she would also miss out on the joy of loving him. Here, The Transformative Power of Love and Loss emerges sharply. She accepts that absence would be more devastating than meeting him and losing him, shifting her view of risk and love.

“I wonder if this is the source of some of his familial tension. Maybe they want him to have done something more…fitting with his life? Something more profitable? Prestigious? Where I come from, ending up with a PhD, teaching poetry at Oxford, living in an inherited Victorian town house would be inconceivable; but maybe that life is just as inconceivable where Jamie comes from, only for the opposite reason: it’s a failing.”

Ella essentially compares herself to Jamie in this passage, since she has only ever been a high-achieving, successful person in her field. She sees Jamie as successful, as well, but he is successful in the field that Ella considers superfluous as a fun addition to her otherwise serious life. As such, she notices how Jamie might not be considered successful in his own life, just as Gavin does not consider Ella’s pursuits at Oxford to be worthwhile.

“I reach over and playfully tousle his hair. When I pull my hand back, I notice a few strands on my fingers. Jamie’s final round of treatment was three days ago and I know he feels more ill than he’s letting on. Still, there’s an air of victory in the car, and we couldn’t be doing anything better for him, for us, than driving through the countryside to Dover to catch a ferry to France. We’re still going away for the holidays.”

This passage foreshadows Jamie’s collapse while driving with Ella moments later, and it highlights the struggle Jamie and Ella are facing in trying to enjoy the time they have. By essentially ignoring the burden of Jamie’s illness, they open themselves up to dangers they might not foresee. To Ella, pulling out some strands of hair is only an unfortunate side effect of Jamie’s treatment, but as his collapse shows, it is an indicator of serious issues.

“Dominance. Lies. ‘You’re strong yet, Ollie, you’re young, lad, you owe it to us, to those who love you. C’mon, one more fight, my boy.’ He gave in. And he suffered. My rugger brother became a skeleton. He shat blood. He hallucinated hellfire. He tried to kill himself and they revived him. He was dragged further and further upstream.”

A key part of Jamie’s description of Oliver’s battle with cancer is the vivid and visceral details he provides. Oliver was not functioning the way Jamie is, now; he was suffering actively and violently. All the while, William was pushing Oliver to keep undergoing new treatments, preventing Oliver from choosing his own way to spend his final months. Critically, Oliver’s attempted death by suicide shows the desperation he felt during this time, which Jamie likely sees as his own future if he cannot keep William away. Jamie’s visceral description uses graphic imagery to force both Ella and the reader to reckon with the reality of suffering, undercutting any romanticized notion of illness.

“‘You’re not rid of me yet. I’m only saying, when the time comes, let it be my Oxenford.’ He looks back down at his feet. ‘Sunset and evening star, and one clear call for me! And may there be no moaning of the bar, when I put out to sea.’ Jamie closes his eyes. Tennyson. Always Tennyson. Everyone has his metaphor. For Tennyson it was a sandbar, for Jamie it’s a ford in the river. For me? I don’t know yet.”

Jamie’s insistence on “Oxenford,” pulling from Oxford’s history, is a metaphor for the crossing between banks of a river and the crossing from life into death. Ella notes how this metaphor is similar to Tennyson’s sandbar, which links Jamie to Tennyson in a way Ella could not have foreseen. However, Ella thinks about her own metaphor, which she does not have yet, implying that everyone needs a way to conceptualize death that makes it more approachable. The metaphor of crossing shows how place names become allegorical. Whelan layers geography with existential significance.

“I suppose it’s like seeing your boyfriend go down on one knee, or watching a plus sign appear on a pregnancy test. Or, on the other side of life, opening your front door to find a sad-eyed cop with his hat in his hand. Which just makes me think of another birthday, twelve years ago. I push it down.”

After Gavin offers Ella a position in Janet’s administration, Ella compares the offer to a proposal or pregnancy, which are distinctly personal developments. This crossover from the career to the personal highlights her developing notion of both work and life as avenues for personal fulfillment, but she adds in the memory of her father’s death. This combination melds career, personal life, and loss as one continuous struggle with highs and lows. The scene collapses Career Ambition Versus Personal Fulfillment, as politics, intimacy, and grief intermingle, forcing Ella to weigh which path will most fully honor her values and desires.

“I find I can’t take a step. I find I have to lean against the wall for a moment. Just a moment and then I’ll leave. I promise. I just want to appreciate this. The three of them, on the other side of the wall, are a single unit now. Unseeable, unknowable, by me. I got what I wanted. I’m free to leave now. So why don’t I want to? I take a breath. I force my foot onto the next stair, and then the next, and the next. Leaving them behind.”

For a moment, Ella feels that she has completed her mission to ensure that Jamie has a support structure, which should mean that she can leave England in June without worrying about him. However, she lingers before leaving, asking why she does not want to leave. The truth is that Ella loves Jamie for herself, not just as a person she needs to help or support. Walking away from the family would mean losing her connections to William, Antonia, and Jamie, which she does not want to lose.

“If he comes through this…The phrase just appears and disappears and reappears again. If he comes through this. Like a pledge, a deal in the making. With whom or with what and to what end, I don’t know. If he comes through this…What? Am I bargaining? Already experiencing one of the five stages of grief?”

Ella’s experience while Jamie is in a medically induced coma are, as she notes, part of the grieving process, even though Jamie is not dead. She hates that she is unconsciously acknowledging the possibility that Jamie will not wake up, and she is instinctively trying to bargain with his illness, offering to stay with him if he wakes up. The repetition of “If he comes through this” emphasizes her fear that Jamie is dying faster than she expected.

“Looking at him, eyes closed, head tipped back, tube down his throat, breathing artificially, I can’t believe it’s only been six months since I first met him. Since he doused me with condiments in a chip shop. Since I hated him at first sight. Since that first class, our tutorial, whiskey and ale, drunken first fumblings, Buttery kisses and chapel trysts. Dry English wit one minute, gallows humor the next. His eyes. Those pools of every shade and depth.”

As the conclusion of the novel approaches, this moment allows Ella to reflect on the six months she has spent with Jamie, beginning on her first day in England. This passage highlights both the depth of their relationship despite the short time span and Ella’s dependence on Jamie as she falls more in love with him.

“It occurs to me now, in this blisteringly cold hospital car park on the outskirts of Glasgow, Scotland, that being called upon to do something because you’re good at it is not the same thing as having a calling. My calling is education, not politics. Politics was my father’s calling. I feel like I’m waking up from one of those dreams, the revelatory kind, where you carry with you into waking the sense that all secrets were revealed and all mysteries were solved, and everything feels different…but what the hell was it about?”

Ella’s decision to focus on education over politics, as well as her recent realization that she is only invested in politics because of her father, are secondary to the main message of this passage, which is that Ella can find fulfillment in more than one possible path. When she describes waking up from a “revelatory” dream, she is recognizing the importance of staying with Jamie for her own fulfillment.