Paris Review and the Politics of De-acceptance

I've been following the discussions of The Paris Review's rejection of previously accepted work with concern and sorrow. My concern is for the poets and for the way such behavior diminishes my respect for institutions I would prefer to hold in high esteem. My sorrow is that fellow writers would condone such behavior as somehow deserved by its objects. Perhaps that view makes them feel safer from this sort of intellectual brutality.

There's not much to add to the extensive coverage this issue has received, except to respond to one point. A number of apologists for The Paris Review's new editorial staff supported their actions by arguing that the publication industry at large regularly kills previously accepted books and articles unless a full written contract exists. They ask why writers for literary journals, and poets in particular, should be treated any better. A number of commentators have remarked, rightly, that a verbal agreement should be able to be trusted, and if poets could afford to take legal action for tens of dollars and irremediable loss of publication credit, they might pursue a case successfully.

I object to this argument on still other grounds. My question would be why literary journals as publishers of poetry - or fiction and non-fiction - should settle for - indeed aspire to - lowering themselves to the worst the literary community has to offer in example. Perhaps literary journals treat their authors, on the whole, with more respect. If so, applaud it and protect it; it is all too rare. It is particularly sad when a journal that many look to as among the best editorially should prove themselves among the least ethically.


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Poetry is Dead ... Fantastic

A new journal appearing in the literary publications section of one's local bookstore is an event to generate delight and trepidation: such an appearance provides hope for great reading and a strong literary community and, at the same time, gives rise to the fear that disappointment, rather than satisfaction, will follow a first perusal.

So when I spotted and purchased the first issue of Poetry is Dead at my local bookstore, I was quite conflicted in my expectations. I have to admit as well that the title - Poetry is Dead - didn't really inspire confidence. Frankly, I expected some pretty pretentious stuff.

However, I happily put my low expectations to bed without any supper - Poetry is Dead is a fabulous journal. I could wax eloquent concerning its many perfections ad nauseum; however, I'm just going to talk briefly about three key areas in which this journal excels: editorial voice, literary selection, and design.

What a delight to read the Letter from the Editor, Daniel Zomparelli: articulate, whimsical, and thoughtful. It is followed by superb critical pieces by Betsy Warland, Chris Gilpin, and, again, Daniel Zomparelli. These thoughtful and critically sound pieces set the tone for a journal that really thinks about poetry and its place in both the literary and the real world.

This strong introduction was supported by excellent poetry selections. Did I like every poem? NO; but I respected every choice. When I finished reading, I don't believe there was a single poem that made me cringe - or even to mentally dismiss it, shrug, or think, smugly (as those of us who don't have to make these decisions can afford to do), that they really messed that one up.

Finally, this journal had something very few do - absolutely superb design. The design is fresh and thoughtful, and it enhances the writing instead of deflecting the reader's attention. A few of the type sizes are a bit small for easy reading, but those few squints are amply compensated by the strong, integrated design. The JOURNAL is beautifully designed - it is not composed of individual pages that seem bound together by accident.

Go buy a copy and revel in it - this is the real deal....

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