On campus folklore: Why Warwick’s modernity is a boon

Passing by the Oculus on a nearly daily basis (alongside many attempts to avoid entering) has led me to contemplate the implications of the big, bold ‘Sixtieth’ that looks down at me. A great big number, but not really in the context of a university. We undoubtedly have a vibrant campus, but does Warwick’s infancy hold us back from getting the full campus experience?

I’m talking, of course, in terms of student traditions, and a very specific one at that: campus folklore. The cornerstone of any campus university, folklore and urban legends (however small) tie students together. One of the main appeals of these stories, however, happens to be how long they’ve been in circulation for. Are they not more impactful when passed down in the form of whispers, spanning generations upon generations of experienced seniors, to a lucky few doe-eyed freshers and so on?

Well, I would say that they aren’t. As a student at Warwick, I will fairly concede that I, among my many fellow Oxbridge rejects, have a penchant for competition. Even then, I will defend with my life the unique and bizarre tales that come packaged with our tuition fees, which we find ourselves incorporating into our daily conversations more frequently every day. From the modern way our tales are circulated and immortalised, to our subversive take on prototypical horror, Warwick folklore is a good time for everyone, and it shows us that our modernity doesn’t act as a hindrance.

We cannot deny the tinge of dry humour that lies in the legend of the Koan

Think of the Koan, in its stoic stillness. What have you heard about it? That it spins? Sure, sure, that’s a possibility. There have also been many human qualities attributed to the Koan by students over the years, to the point where it has a social media presence and an alleged girlfriend. But is movement and personification the extent of the lore behind the Koan? Interestingly enough, no. There goes a tale not-so-old that there is a person trapped inside – a tireless worker who kept it spinning. Through a fateful series of incidents, he met the love of his life: a professor who convinced him to cycle away with her, away from their problems. He never showed up, though, and she, in her devastation, ensured the Koan was sealed shut, his body in it, now entombed for eternity.

Now, I’m not going to delve deep into the story. For that, you might just need to consult either your seniors or various webpages online. I want to instead focus on a very particular Japanese urban legend that this one resembles. The ‘Hitobashira’, or ‘human pillars’, refer to a specific type of construction rumoured to take place in ancient Japan. In order to please the Gods with their decision to build a particular structure, workers in ancient Japan used to deliver a human sacrifice. Their corpse would then be built into the structure, seen as a good omen for the building and its future.

The resemblance between them, to me, is more than a coincidence. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not implying that plagiarism of any kind occurred. I’m simply saying that despite the centuries, maybe even millennia between these two seemingly disconnected urban legends, they are connected by the horrifying idea of humans entombed in structures. The modernity of Warwick only adds to the authenticity of this urban legend, meaning that it follows the same thought process as those from ancient Japan, without being repetitive!

The way Warwick shares its urban legends is also a testament to the advantages of its modernity. Just look at the plethora of social media accounts that the students follow to a cult-like extent

Think about it: traditionally, urban legends strictly fall into the horror category. Not the Koan, though. While its lore has elements of horror (I’d say a person being entombed anywhere is slightly scary), we cannot deny the tinge of dry humour that lies in the legend of the Koan. With recent generations’ increasing inclination to take things less seriously and lightly mock their predecessors, our modern subversion is pretty well-displayed in the contrast between horror (like the Hitobashira) and horror-comedy, proving that new takes can modify outdated urban legends.

The way Warwick shares its urban legends is also a testament to the advantages of its modernity. Just look at the plethora of social media accounts that the students follow to a cult-like extent. To name them all would probably take up the designated word count of the rest of this article, but let’s focus on one that most effectively facilitates student-to-student communication: The Warwick Tea.

While the primary goal of this account is obviously to let students anonymously get things related to other students and campus life off their chests, it’s become a lot more than that. Do the terms ‘Westwood Moleman’, ‘Cryfield Squatter’ or even ‘Claycroft Gimp’ ring a bell? Believe it or not, these too count as urban legends around Warwick. These being included on accounts like The Warwick Tea creates a certain intrigue into campus life (not to mention great conversation starters) and makes us students, especially first-years, wonder what on Earth is going on in Westwood…

This Friday the 13th, you don’t need to look anywhere beyond Warwick to get a few scares (or a few laughs)

It immortalises these urban legends, solidifying their place in our campus life and definitely making it more accessible to first-years. Now we can be sure that these legends will carry on, and that the Westwood Moleman will eventually be found.

You may have noticed that I didn’t elaborate all that much on these urban legends, but it was all with good reason. Ultimately, folklore is for the sake of community, for the sake of socialising and genuinely for the fun of it. And how pointless would it be if I just explained everything in a few paragraphs? So, this Friday the 13th, you don’t need to look anywhere beyond Warwick to get a few scares (or a few laughs). Just talk to the people around you and explore the hidden horrors of this very campus.

But don’t wander too long, or you might just see the Claycroft gimp.