NewPages Blog :: Magazine Reviews

Entitled “Politics & Religion,” this issue of the Mississippi Review might just as aptly be named the “Stand on the Rooftop and Shout Yes, Yes, Yes!” issue. Continue reading “Mississippi Review – Fall 2004”

New England Review continues to uphold its reputation for publishing extraordinary, enduring work. Jane Hirshfield’s wise and compassionate poem “In a Room with Five People, Six Griefs” is a distillation of the overlarge experience of being human into a few simple-seeming sentences that tell our grief and fear and anger, yet leave open “A door through which time / changer of everything / can enter.” Richard Wollman’s fiercely affecting “Paper in Autumn” resurrects one family from the fire of the Holocaust. Continue reading “New England Review – 2004”

One of the only literary magazines in the United States to resemble in physical format a standard mainstream magazine, North American Review cannot be found on any newsstands, but is sold entirely by mail order. That the magazine simultaneously happens to be the oldest of its kind in the nation speaks impressively to the emphatic approval of a devoted subscription base. The back cover of this issue bears a facsimile of a handwritten note by Thomas Jefferson, regarding payment arrangements for his subscription for the year 1825. This issue contains 4 short stories, 4 nonfiction pieces, 3 reviews, and 21 poems. Continue reading “North American Review – November/December 2004”

A long-time reader of Poetry, I have a confession to make. I read Poetry for the reviews. It’s not that I don’t appreciate the poetry, of course—what, in this issue, Wislawa Szymborska describes, along with the work of Plato, as “litter scattered by the breeze from under statues / scraps from that great Silence up on high…”—but what inspires and angers and thrills me, above all, is what is found under the heading “comment.” Continue reading “Poetry – February 2005”

In this issue, Clarissa T. Sligh writes movingly of the unspeakable: how her mother’s twelve-year-old brother was killed by racists, his body dumped on the ground in front of the house. “Her parents were still in the fields. Not able to accept that her brother was dead, she cradled his lifeless body in her lap and rocked him back and forth.” Sligh’s grandparents, needing to work in the fields but desperately afraid for their other sons, resorted to hanging them high in the trees in burlap sacks so they couldn’t wander away from the farm. Carla Panciera’s gently incisive “Darcy Didn’t Want to Be Home” tells the story of a wandering cow, a sentient being wanting more than her allotted life, from the perspective of a daughter caught between her father’s view of the animal as a product, and her own, more intuitive understanding of the world’s ways. Potomac Review, though not a religious publication, generously makes room for several offerings touching on the life of the spirit, such as Viva Hammer’s essay “Our Yarmulka” which quietly demonstrates how even a simple article of clothing, seen in the light of history, can become an article of faith, and the wearing of it, a way of keeping faith with those who are lost to time. If there is an overriding theme to the Potomac Review, it is the bonds of relationship—the sometimes excruciating sacrifices they ask of us, and the best of ourselves they give us in return. [Potomac Review, 51 Mannakee St., Rockville, MD 20850. E-mail: judith.gaines@montgomerycollege.edu. Single issue $10. www.montgomerycollege.edu/potomacreview/] – Ann Stapleton Continue reading “Potomac Review – Fall/Winter 2004-05”

“It is the age of noon / when all the hours are sleeping / and you remain awake, for this / is where the poem begins…”—the young German poet Matthias Göeritz (translation by Susan Bernofsky) captures the essence of the entire glorious endeavor of poetry, waking us from sleep, from the stultifying trance of a hot, uncomfortable day—a “metamorphosis” as the poem’s title announces. Continue reading “Smartish Pace – 2004”

Don’t be constrained by the name—Southwest Review, a cosmopolitan literary journal with a strong sense of the past (and thus, a keen understanding of where we might be headed), surely isn’t. Fearlessly fascinated by the inner life, The Review showcases the essay form, with offerings on the painter Tintoretto, Lou Gehrig’s disease, and Baroness Elsa Von Freytag-Loringhoven, now recognized as “the great-aunt of punk” (“‘Cars and bicycles have taillights. Why not I?’ she quipped when asked to explain the battery-operated taillight tacked to the bustle of her dress.”) Chris Arthur’s “Getting Fit” offers a breathtaking description of the simultaneity of life, how, weird or wonderful as it may seem, everything everywhere—birth and death and whatever we can find to squeeze in between—is somehow happening all at once: Continue reading “Southwest Review – Fall 2004”

A press release from Vallum: contemporary magazine announces the magazine is “dedicated to exploring reality in all its warped and beautiful aspects” and that this issue is the journal’s first theme-based effort. The theme is “reality checks,” featuring “‘snapshots of things real and unreal.” Continue reading “Vallum – 2005”

“While I was reading your poems, my tailbone went numb many times. I’m afraid, my dear friend, that you’re a poet and nothing can be done about it. I’m expressing my immense sympathy.” That’s a quote from Zbigniew Herbert in a letter to poet Janusz Szuber which he reads, at her request, to interviewer/translator Ewa Hryniewicz-Yarbrough. Tailbone numbing writing is a perfect description of the superb work collected in Absinthe. A dozen poets and fiction writers from 11 countries appear here in expert translations (with the exception of poems by the British poet Fiona Sampson whose work, obviously, appears in the original English). What distinguishes this journal overall is that there is nothing occasional here, not a single piece that seems remotely casual in intent or outcome. What numbs the tailbone is not merely the exquisite control demonstrated by each of these authors, but the overwhelming sense of responsibility this control suggests—every word, no, every syllable, counts in poetry and prose alike. While there is much variety in the subject matter treated and the style of the pieces collected here, what they have in common is a particular seriousness or authority that seems, to put it bluntly, unmistakably not-American. These are accomplished and successful artists, widely published and recognized in their own languages and countries. They deserve a wide and grateful audience in English, as well. Continue reading “Absinthe – 2004”

This was a special 10th Anniversary issue called The Best of The Asheville Poetry Review, a retrospective of the work the journal has published since 1994, including in its 250 pages a surprisingly diverse set of writers – from Robert Bly, Joy Harjo, to translations of Baudelaire, Celan and Lorca, to Eaven Boland, Virgil Suarez, Gary Snyder Sherman Alexie and R.T. Smith. It’s hard to pick out from such a large, myriad cast a “typical” poem, but there were many meditations on natural themes, and many of the poems felt restrained, although again, there were prose poems and experimental work among the traditional narratives and even some formal verse. Along with the poems, there were critical essays, book reviews, and interviews, including a long interview with William Matthews. Scott C. Holstad defended Carl Sandburg’s poetry and his focus on the American working class in the essay “Sandburg’s Chicago Poems: The Inscription of American Ideology.” When’s the last time I read anything that defended Carl Sandburg? I applaud Holstad for his courage in recognizing what was good in the work of this long-maligned American poet. I loved Joy Harjo’s “The Flood” and Cathy Gibbon’s “Dumb Blonde,” as well as the clever “Terzanelle of the Insomniac Dreamer” by Tom C. Hunley. Kudos also for the beautiful cover art work, and the high production values of this glossy journal, as well as the resistance to the usual tyranny of “big names” in anniversary issues. Neither did the editor succumb to the regionalism one might expect from a journal called “Asheville Poetry Review” – the editor chose just as many poems from new or little-known authors as he did from recognized writers, which shows courage, and opened the doors of his journal to writers not only of other states, but other countries as well.  – JHG Continue reading “Asheville Poetry Review – 2004”

I always enjoy reading Atlanta Review’s poetry; the work is typically approachable, emotionally invested, and refreshingly direct. Many of the poems in this issue even seem to follow the whole “emotion recalled in tranquility” rule of poetry – the speakers are trapped in between occasions, reflecting on the past or future – at concerts, diagnoses, at movies, in the kitchen. This issue featured poems from the Atlanta Review’s 2004 International Poetry Competition, as well as an interview with the always-lively, acclaimed poet-teacher-extraordinaire Marvin Bell. There were a couple of wonderful food-oriented poems in this issue, including “Basmati” by Amy Dengler, and a great poem by Marian Wilson called “Frump Femme Fatale” about a librarian action figure gone wild. One of the other poems I particularly liked in this issue was Alicia Ostriker’s “What You Cannot Remember, What You Cannot Know,” which appears to be written to a daughter or granddaughter. I have to admit I immediately forwarded the poem to both my mother and grandmother. But don’t mistake this for any kind of easy, sentimental verse. Here’s a quote from the poem: Continue reading “Atlanta Review – Fall/Winter 2004”

A wild little journal of “innovative writing and art: collaborations, interviews, collage, poetry, poetics, long poems, reviews, graphs, charts, non-fiction, cross genre…” not to mention the marvelous pasted-on-the-page-as-separate-slips-of-paper reproductions of photos and artwork. Does somebody do this by hand? Now, that’s innovative! Innovative is one of those tricky words that confuses me, even though I confess I often use it to describe work that is risky or unusual or odd or curious and there’s all of that and more in Birddog. There are excerpts from Mark Tardi’s divided-columns poem “Chopin’s Feet,” where every other page is divided graphically with a straight vertical line and the verses are like Chopin’s complicated music moving from dense rhythms to lighter ones and back again. There’s Heidi Peppermint’s poem, “The Gulf Streams,” whose diction wavers between the utterly familiar and ordinary (“Boy, those days we’ve talked about are here! / pamper yourself with daily maid service”), to a playfulness that veers toward the arcane (“Boy, those sways wave tangent about arrant! / Boy, those swerves as stranger about arsy-varsy!”). There are excerpts from Bob Harrison’s poem “Counter Daemons—4D,” incorporating concepts from computer programming, as well as from the “counting coups” of the Plains Indians. There are Brigitte Byrd’s prose poems whose fate, we hope, will not be the same as this title: “Comparative Obscurity”: “If there is estrangement what is the difference between speaking to the dead and speaking to the living.” If you’re open to Birddog’s innovation, you’ll know the answer to that question. Continue reading “Birddog – 2004”

Hayden’s Ferry Review is, as always, an enjoyable mingle of poems, prose, art, interviews and essays. This issue has interviews with esteemed experimental poet C.D. Wright, acclaimed visual artist James Turrell, whose pieces explore the actions of light (several representations of his work are included with the interview, which I appreciated), as well as poet David St. John, whose poems also explore the nature of light. Continue reading “Hayden’s Ferry Review – Spring/Summer 2004”

When I finished this annual journal of Upstate Medical University, The Healing Muse, I felt I had been on a journey of discovery. Through fiction, non-fiction, poetry, and photography, health care givers and patients explore and express their feelings and thoughts about the roles and relationships they have with each other as well as with illness and disease. The complexity of the works presented reflects the complexity of the personal dramas from each side of bed. Steven Katz in his poem, “The Cathedral,” eloquently describes the situation: “Thrown together in a whirlwind / by hurricane Cancer / Surgeon and patient twist about / With all the awkwardness / Of new dance partners / Having to learn subtle nuances / Indelibly intertwined like sides of a spiral staircase / Vaulting up the bell tower of humanity.” Continue reading “The Healing Muse – 2004”

I hadn’t read this journal or the work of interview subject, fiction writer Kathleen Hill until now, but I’ll read both again. The interview (conducted by Barbara Brooks) is one of the most engaging I’ve encountered. Continue reading “Inkwell – Fall 2004”

Although the holiday season is over, there were several times while reading Night Train that I wanted to jump up and shout, “Joy to the World!” The fiction is just that good. Both editors and writers are to be congratulated for this impressive reading experience. Continue reading “Night Train – 2004”

The second issue of the newly relaunched journal out of Emerson College in Boston includes poetry, fiction, interviews, art, and a fistful of short book reviews. One of the highlights of this issue was the interview with the always-entertaining Nancy Pearl, my own hometown’s (Seattle) celebrity librarian who has her own action figure! Her wit and passion for books are palpable. Continue reading “Redivider – 2004”

What comes to mind when you think of undergraduate writing? Overwriting? Sentimentality? Fuzzy thinking? Certainly I had my doubts when I cracked open the cover of Allegheny Review, an annual devoted to the work of undergraduates. Yet, although I found one or two examples of overwriting, I was pleased to find my doubts largely ungrounded. The writing in Allegheny is clear—so refreshingly clear that some of our more mature poets could take a lesson. A stark sonnet on a woman’s abortion blows any notion of sentimentality out of the water. Continue reading “The Allegheny Review – 2004”

Contributors’ notes and their remarks take up fourteen pages and while writers’ comments can enrich the work or detract from it, these comments are both useful and interesting. This is especially true for the poetry, extraordinary work by fourteen gifted poets, including student prize winner Kat Darling. There is much variety here, work that ranges from lyrical to edgy, all of it strong and original. In his remarks, James Jay lets us know that his poem was inspired by a 19th century Muslim poet from India, a poet whose confidence he humbly professes to envy, though “Today Let’s Call Ourselves Gahlib,” is the work of a poet who deserves to have confidence in himself: “Ghalib, dig up that cougar your father / buried at the beginning of summer. / He wants to teach you about biology. Go find that corpse, // less cleanly picked / than his science / had hoped…” I must single out poems by Jendi Reiter, Christina Hutchins, and Richard Kenefic, too, although there isn’t a poem in this issue I would want any reader to miss. Michael Petracca’s essay, “Plover Mind,” about his work in the Snowy Plover Docent Program in California, is marvelous, part science lesson, part personal essay, part primer on haiku.  Continue reading “Alligator Juniper – 2004”

As numerous literary magazines are focusing on flash-fiction and other short writing forms, At Length stands out as the only magazine I know of devoted entirely to long form work. Each issue features a long story or novella and a long poem. The story, “Small Mercies,” in this issue is by Tim Winton, whom I’m informed has “won every major award in Australia.” Frankly, at only 28 pages, it was not as long as I would have imagined, which is no problem since the story is great. It revolves around a man moving back to his hometown with his son after his wife’s suicide and manages to end in an unexpected direction. This particular issue also features a series of minimalist sketches by William Cordova titled “BADUSSY,” which I thought were excellent. I’ve never found poetry to work very well in long form, but Anne Winters’ narrative poem “An Immigrant Woman” held my interest till the end.  Continue reading “At Length – Summer 2004”

This journal is always unpredictable and sometimes even startling. Editor Paul B. Roth promises to free us from “enslavement to the usual and expected” and the unexpected is certainly one of The Bitter Oleander‘s trademarks. “The fish arrived in my dresser drawer, / swathed in socks, its eyes calm as a desert.”—a poem by Katherine Sanchez Espano opens the issue. This fish has something to say, of course: “I open its mouth and see pictures / of a lost Ticuman woman / who looks like me.” “The Fish” is representative of the issue as a whole: powerful work that means to change the way we think about the world around us or, at the very least, to change the way we read. The centerpiece of the issue is a series of poems by six Mexican poets, along with their “ars poetica.” Continue reading “The Bitter Oleander – 2004”

Carve is a slim volume featuring the work of six poets, five of whom hail from Massachusetts, the journal’s former home base. One of the six poets presents “A Birthday Acrostic for Mark Lamoureux,” Lamoureux being a contributor in Carve’s first issue. On the title page interested poets are requested to “please inquire before submitting.” It all lends a certain air of clubbiness to this volume. Still, that sense should not deter anyone from picking up a copy of Carve. These six are masterful poets, pushing language to work in new ways. The poems are oblique enough to maintain interest and challenge, but not so obscure as to alienate. Continue reading “Carve Magazine – Summer 2004”

Crazyhorse is one of the older American literary magazines, this being its 45th year, and it is nice to see the magazine still willing to publish writing that takes risks. While inevitably some of these fail, there is plenty of material here for the cost. One story that did work was Stephen Tuttle’s “The Funambulist,” which deals with how a town mythologizes the suicide of one of its members: “Our teenagers were not there the day the man walked into and then off our tallest building, but they know people who were. They have all the details.” Eerie and intriguing.  Continue reading “Crazyhorse – Fall 2004”

Editor Judith P. Stelboum ponders the purpose of a journal “devoted solely to lesbian writing” and concludes that “though some of us are still individually invisible, we must never be culturally invisible.” Here are six stories, a half-dozen poems, and some artwork to keep the images and stories of lesbians not only visible, but vivid. Continue reading “Harrington Lesbian Fiction Quarterly – 2004”

This issue begins, appropriately, with a tribute to founding editor Frederick Morgan (1922-2004). In an interview with board member Michael Peich, Morgan’s description of the journal couldn’t be more apt: “ongoing intellectual companionship.” Continue reading “The Hudson Review – Autumn 2004”

This issue of Image–a journal that seeks to explore the relationship between culture and (typically) Judeo-Christian conceptions of God, and does so in a consistently thoughtful manner–is notable once again for its intelligent interrogations of received ideas about religion. Continue reading “Image – Fall 2004”

You gotta love a journal that covers such a broad range of poetic styles. New York Quarterly has all the bases covers: Traditional sonnet? Check. Prose poem? Check. Bukowski poem? Stand-up poem? Found poem? Check, check, check. Continue reading “The New York Quarterly – 2004”

This issue of Room–a quarterly out of Vancouver published since 1975 by, for and about women, with stories, poetry and reviews chosen by an editorial collective–makes scars its central metaphor. As editor Lana Okerlund notes, “many synonyms for scar are negative: imperfection, blemish, disfigurement. But, in life, as in many of the stories, poetry and artworks in this issue, scars are more paradoxical than these synonyms imply.” Continue reading “Room of One’s Own – 2004”

Big names and big reputations here, as always: Nadine Gordimer, Joyce Carol Oates, Richard Howard, Chase Twichell, Honor Moore, C.K. Williams. Take this issue along if you’re planning a long plane ride or a day of waiting somewhere, you won’t run out of reading material and you’ll be able to escape whatever drudgery surrounds you. The work here is dense, solid, and serious. Gordimer’s story, “Alleserlorenn,” is not to be missed. Continue reading “Salmagundi – Fall 2004/Winter 2005”

With edgy poetry and quirky short shorts, Stray Dog is fun—really, really fun. This issue starts off with a prose poem—usually not the first selection in a journal—about a man writing prose poems. Michael Cocchiarale’s short short, “Other Side of the Bed,” is wildly entertaining, describing a man looking over his wife’s side of the bed for the first time in thirty years and discovering another man—and his apartment. Continue reading “Stray Dog – 2004”

This Magazine is a delightfully eclectic little glossy out of Toronto that has been in publication since the 1960’s. The magazine has recently seen some format changes, as it attempts, in the words of editor Patricia D’Souza, to define what it “means to be a magazine of alternative culture in a time when alternative culture has become a mainstream concept.” This will no longer run single-theme centered issues, choosing instead to “adop[t] a storytelling approach that is more responsive to current events.”  Continue reading “This Magazine – 2004”

Ignore the over-sized, cursive drop caps that begin each piece (inelegantly in their aggressive elegance) and concentrate on the larger-than-life sized prose in this issue. When I think of “spiritual literature,” I think first of poetry, and there certainly are some memorable poems here (most notably work by Rachel Hadas, Kathleen Graber, and ellen), but it’s the prose that, surprisingly and delightfully, commands my attention above all.  Continue reading “Tiferet – 2004”

There is only one word for this journal: superb. This fall/winter issue features a dazzling array of top-notch poetry that includes Matt Zambito’s “The Word on the Street,” John Surowiecki’s “Imaginary Seascape with Literary Orphans” who “dream of making sail / for some island where they’ll find no word / for themselves and where the most valuable gift / anyone can give them is indifference,” Nancy Van Winckel’s “The Very Monday,” and many, many others. Continue reading “West Branch – Fall/Winter 2004”

What to say about this journal? There’s so much to like among the fiction, from Lucy Bucknell’s Kafkaesque “Vanishing Act” to Sean Mclain Brown’s exquisite short shorts. And Carol Moldaw’s sequential poem “Anastylosis” is a joy to read. Continue reading “First Intensity – 2003”

This newsprint journal out of Shoreline, Washington declares on its web site that its editors embrace the romantic tradition, are biased towards narrative, and pointedly are not interested in academic exercise, minimalism, or surrealism. I believe those declarations to be true, especially when I found that the cover art was photographed by someone named “Moondoggie” and that this issue features parts II and III of a story called “The Elf King.” It is indeed an eclectic mix of poems, art, and prose. Many of the poems contain the words “God,” “Heart,” “Sadness,” and there is a lot of weather present in the poems as well – rain, moonlight, snow, Springtime, etc. So be prepared for open-hearted (if sometimes simple) writing, and you won’t be disappointed with what you find. Mary Carol Moran has two poems in here that I liked, “The Dance” and “X’s and O’s.” Here is the first stanza from “X’s and O’s:” Continue reading “The Bellowing Ark – July/August 2004”

The slim, saddle-stitched new poetry journal out of Portland, Oregon looks like care and attention has been lavished on its design; it resembles a well-done chapbook, with its heavy cardstock paper and clean, clear typeset. And the poetry you’ll find won’t disappoint either. Many of the poems have a lyrical bent and pack an emotional punch. I particularly liked Virginia Mix’s piece, called “Boundaries,” which culminates in these eerie lines: “And I can also fast-forward five years, and / squat down in her tiny kitchen, 29 years / old and pregnant, whispering into the / goat’s silky coat after he spent the day / munching on toxic rhododendron. / I cover my ears as he moans and screams / while the poison rushes through his blood, / and hold him in my lap at four in the / morning, and the moonlight shivers off / the linoleum.” I am looking forward to more of Burnside Review after this promising debut.  Continue reading “Burnside Review – Summer 2004”

This special issue is dedicated to, as the cover states, Food Matters. Continue reading “The Massachusetts Review – 2004”

Formatted like a slick cosmopolitan magazine, this quirky, subversive offering out of Canada includes comics, poems, art work, fiction, and essays, all of which were weird, humorous, or some combination of the two. They also feature sci-fi and horror genre work. One of their stated goals is to include writers from all over, and it seems they succeeded, as I count five countries represented on two pages at one point. As a lover of literary comics, I have to say my favorite comic from this issue was that depicting a tyrannosaurus rex’s search for God, which was attributed to a web site www.qwantz.com and a Canadian author named Ryan North. Of the poems, I particularly liked the prose poem “She Tried to Teach Me Poetry” by Karina Sumner-Smith, which begins: Continue reading “NFG – Writing with Attitude – 2004”

This journal, originating from Portland State University, includes poetry, fiction, photography and art from a variety of voices, not just those of the Northwest. Standout pieces for me included Dustin Nightingale’s poem, “Shoot Out the Lights,” and James McCachren’s story, “Driving,” which begins with the irresistible lines: “We had two reasons for going there: 1) because it was called “the supermarket of the stars,” and 2) because we had no chapstick. I saw we had no chapstick, though I think my wife may have hidden it. Continue reading “The Portland Review – 2004”

This new saddle-stitched journal of poetry and art out of Tennessee gives a forum for newer voices, with a lyric bent. I liked the ekphrastic poem “Shark Infested Waters” by Gayle Elen Harvey (about a show by Damien Hirst), as well as P.J. Taylor’s “The Mice and The Lemon Tree.” An excerpt of Taylor’s poem: Continue reading “Tar Wolf Review – Fall 2004”

Ever wondered what would happen if a mermaid were inverted with scales on the upper half? Continue reading “Boulevard – Fall 2004”

Grain has an inventive way of honoring its annual Short Grain contest winners without shortchanging the other contributors – a double issue with two front covers and no perfunctory rear. In the “regular” issue, Christine Lindsay’s “Last Words” is a potent dialog with a character from a poem by Jane Kenyon. Continue reading “Grain – Autumn 2004”

After a string of elaborately presented thematic issues, McSweeney’s returns with a back-to-basics issue. Continue reading “McSweeney’s – Fall 2004”

The cover of this New Letters issue features a mural detail in which a face in a mirror mimics its own act of reflection, soliciting your gaze and shooting it right back to you. Inside the issue, broader sections of Luis Quintanilla’s frank, witty frescoes with a Don Quixote theme (fear no macho kitsch here) are enhanced by commentary from both the exiled Spanish artist and his son. Continue reading “New Letters – Number 70.1, 2004”

This captivating journal presents essays, poems and stories in their original language side by side with their English translations and notes from the translators. Continue reading “Two Lines – 2004”

Been longing to, as the song says, drive south? Just pick up a copy of the Arkansas Review and step into one of Daniel Coston’s you-are-there paintings of quintessential southern settings somehow rendered exotic by his fresh view of their familiarity. The white churches, the flat green lands of the Mississippi Delta, an “old store south of Pine Bluff, Arkansas on highway 65” will seem so real you’ll want to have your picture taken there. Then head out to the inexplicably named Club Disco 9000, actually “a juke joint, a prefab steel barn on Otha Turner’s place, out in the country” with white, middled-aged British blues fan Garry Craig Powell. In “Talkin’ Blues at the Living Blues Symposium,” he’ll give you his entertaining/worried take on the current health of (and his not so promising prognosis for) the blues and the fact that white people’s love for the blues (or their co-opting of it, depending on how you look at it) helps keep it alive, yet also tends to alter its essence. Who you play for can change your song, as R. T. Smith will warn you in his tour de force for one (fictional) voice “Dear Six Belles,” a wonderfully cranky and obsessive paean to real Cajun music: “Authentic whang-doodle, chers, the true thing.” Hear it? “You gotta cherish the blue swell in the emotional motion, give your self whole heart to the Loosiana razzy dazz.” If you start now, you can be back by suppertime. [Arkansas Review, Department of English and Philosophy, P.O. Box 1890, Arkansas State Unversity, State University, AR 72467. E-mail: delta@astate.edu. Single issue $7.50. http://www.clt.astate.edu/arkreview] – AS Continue reading “Arkansas Review – August 2004”

Probably one of the most unassumingly designed literary journals, The Baltimore Review stands up to the best of them with fiction, nonfiction, poetry, and book reviews that all have that special glint of treasures presented with a knowing wink of editorial conviction. This issue features six short stories, all impressively artful and absorbing. Joe Schall’s “Opossum”, winner of TBR’s 2003 Short Fiction Competition, treads with not a single unsure step the bizarre territory of agoraphobia, etymology, toxicology, and marsupials, blending it all together with a thematic grace that left me moved by the feeling that I’d just read one of the year’s best stories. Continue reading “The Baltimore Review – Summer/Fall 2004”

Defying the trade paperback design standard to most literary journals, The Briar Cliff Review is a magazine-size book with thick, glossy paper and an evocative array of crystal-clear full-color artwork scattered throughout. To peruse this journal is an enjoyable sensory experience, and I found myself savoring the pure pleasure induced by the design as much as I savored the contents, which are substantial: 28 poems, 6 stories, 3 nonfiction pieces grouped under the unique heading “Reflective”, 4 articles or exhibits dealing with the “Siouxland” surrounding Briar Cliff’s Sioux City origins, and 3 book reviews. The short stories here are highly literary, somewhat ponderously paced, and ultimately very winning in their shared reluctance to undercut the human mysteries they present. Continue reading “The Briar Cliff Review – Volume 16”

Cairn: from the Scottish, a pile of stones meant as a monument or landmark. Also an exceptional literary magazine out of St. Andrews Presbyterian College. Kevin Frazier’s haunting story “The Magic Forest,” the tale of a lonely child who, on the spur of the moment, absconds with an infant “being aired” in the yard, considers the law of unintended consequences in a (disturbingly undermined) fairy tale setting. Continue reading “Cairn – May 2004”

This venerable journal (it has been around for more than 50 years) can be relied upon for excellent short fiction, and this issue is no exception. Lydia Peelle’s “Mule Killers” and M. Allen Cunningham’s “Crustacean” are both evocative and nostalgic – “Mule Killers” evokes the farming past of the speaker’s family, and “Crustacean” about a man trying to keep his crumbling family from falling apart. The few poems sprinkled throughout the issue provide tonal counterpoints for the stories, which means the editor put some thought into how to position these pieces together. For instance, the poem “Revival” by Jody Winer-Cook describes a museum exhibit of stone snake-tongue-carved knives and how the speaker responds to it: Continue reading “Epoch – 2004”