Sin-Eater – Worst Job Ever

Common between the 17th and 19th century, the essence of sin-eating revolves around a ritual performed by a designated individual known as a ‘sin-eater’. This person was believed to engage in a symbolic act where they consumed a meal, typically involving bread, salt and sometimes ale, which represented the sins of the deceased. The bread would be placed on the chest of the corpse and it was believed the sins would be absorbed. As such, the sin-eater assumed the spiritual burdens of the departed soul, thus ensuring their passage to the afterlife free from guilt. The term has its origins in Welsh culture and the practice is most commonly associated with Herefordshire and the surrounding areas. However, references to sin-eaters can be found throughout Europe and America, for example the ‘corpse cakes’ consumed in Medieval Germany.
The role of the sin-eater was paradoxical; while performing a necessary service that could assuage communal fears about spiritual damnation, it came with a heavy burden. Sin-eaters were often marginalized, viewed as social outcasts who bore the sins not only of the deceased but also the collective sins of those who lived. The sin-eater was paid very poorly, the equivalent of a couple of pounds in today’s money, and the act of sin-eating marked them as both a sacrificial figure and a consummate outsider. This contradiction illustrates the complex dynamics of class and spirituality in the communities that embraced this practice, as sin eaters often belonged to the lower echelons of society, underscoring issues of power and class disparity. This is exacerbated further by the complex relationship the practice had with the with religion and the church, as sin-eaters were often employed as a cheaper alternative to a priest.

The Legacy of Sin-Eaters in Modern Culture

The concept of sin-eaters has transitioned into various forms of modern expression within literature, film, and art. This transformation illustrates their ongoing relevance and the haunting nature of guilt and redemption that continues to resonate in contemporary society. Writers and creators draw upon the archetype of the sin eater to evoke complex themes related to morality and the human condition.
In literature, the figure of the sin-eater has found a prominent place in both fiction and non-fiction, serving as a powerful symbol for grappling with personal and collective guilt. An example is the Sin-eater character in Marvel comics. Numerous novels incorporate sin-eaters as protagonists or pivotal characters, reflecting society’s enduring fascination with their sacrificial role.
By integrating such symbols into their narratives, authors illustrate how individuals confront their own complicity in societal wrongdoings. The act of consuming sins is both a physical and symbolic gesture that highlights the struggle for redemption. Through the portrayal of sin-eaters, literature prompts readers to consider questions of responsibility and the potential for personal absolution in a world filled with ethical challenges.

An example is the novel “The Sin Eater’s Daughter” by Melinda Salisbury. This story introduces readers to a young woman burdened with the weight of her village’s sins. The narrative intricately weaves themes of power, sacrifice, and identity. Salisbury employs vivid imagery and a first-person perspective that allows readers to intimately experience the protagonist’s internal struggles, making the character of the sin eater a vessel for exploring broader societal issues related to the expectations placed on individuals.
Another significant work is “Sin Eater” by Megan Campisi, which reinterprets the role of sin eaters within a historical context. Campisi’s novel portrays sin-eaters as essential agents of societal judgment, reflecting the moral dilemmas faced by these characters. The author uses a rich narrative style that blends reality with elements of folklore, offering critiques on themes such as misogyny and class disparity. The sin eater’s journey raises questions about the arbiters of morality and the burdens of inherited guilt, resonating with the modern reader’s understanding of justice and responsibility in contemporary society.
Moreover, in the short story “The Sin Eater” by David Foster Wallace, the character serves as a metaphor for the existential crisis of his time. Wallace’s portrayal emphasizes the psychological ramifications of guilt and the impact of societal pressures. Utilizing a layered narrative structure, he explores the nuances of human experience and connection, showcasing how the role of sin eaters can transcend traditional interpretations to address deeper social concerns, including emotional trauma and the quest for redemption. The concept of the sin-eater can also be found in film and TV shows such as The Bourne Legacy, Lucifer and Sleepy Hollow.

Dead Cakes

In Scotland the poor soul landed with this job was known as the ‘sinne-eater’, and Callum Henderson’s macabre ‘Dead Cakes’ in Issue 1 of Power Cut begins,

Owen’s mum started baking the day after his Uncle Leslie died. Since her brother-in-law had croaked, she’d barely paused baking except to gulp down mugs of lukewarm tea. Over the last 48 hours she’d filled four whole tins with small, dark, oat biscuits, each scored with a crucifix.

These biscuits were for the ‘sineetah’ to consume, a stranger whose appearance and behaviour marks him as a pariah to be avoided. The story satirizes the practice and societal expectation as the ‘sineetah’ is expected to consume tin after tin of the dead-biscuits,

‘There’s still one left,’ snapped Owen’s mum. ‘You’ve got to finish that off.’

‘Can’t, luv,’ said the stranger. ‘Anymore and I’ll be sick.’

The dark humour in the story reflects the uneasy relationship society has with this taboo and also how the need for such a ‘scapegoat’ is still relevant in contemporary culture. It is also seen through the eyes of a young boy Owen, whose innocence protects him from the full implications of Uncle Leslie’s sins.

Although the literal practice of the sin-eater died out in the early 20th century – the metaphorical and psychological role continues. Some suggest that the modern ‘content moderator’ for social media giants is the 21st century equivalent of the sin-eater – the individual who has to see the unimaginable and live with that burden so that we don’t.

‘Dead Cakes’ by Callum Henderson can be read in full in Issue 1 of Power Cut.

It is November and that means one thing – NOIRVEMBER

Hopefully you are all snuggled up every night with a bottle of bourbon, a carton of cigarettes (yes, even the non-smokers!) and the lights out ready for your favourite Film Noir movie. Let’s begin exploring Film Noir and why it continues to dazzle movie-lovers.

What is Film Noir?

Film noir emerged as a distinctive cinematic style in America during the 1940s and 1950s, it introduced a distinctive aesthetic and narrative form, characterized by pessimism, moral ambiguity, and complex character arcs. Film Noir is a French term meaning ’black’ or ‘dark’ film and refers to both the mood and aesthetic of the films. The roots of the genre can be traced back to German Expressionism, a movement that emphasized distorted visuals and emotional depth. This influence is evident in the use of stark contrasts and low-key lighting, which creates a sense of unease and enhances the often grim narratives present in these films. The interplay of shadows and light is also metaphorical of the ethical dilemmas faced by characters, predominantly embodied in the classic femme fatale and the tortured anti-hero (usually a writer, drifter or detective). These visual elements not only enhance suspense but also serve to heighten the emotional experience of the audience, enveloping them in a world rife with danger and uncertainty. Two other integral characteristics of a Film Noir movie are the bleak urban landscape and lots of smoking! If it isn’t shadowy and smoky it’s not real Noir! This highly stylized cinematic approach was paired with hard-boiled crime fiction from writers such as Raymond Chandler and James M Cain, known for their gritty realism.

Shadows and Suspense: Film Noir, a product of its time

The cultural backdrop of post-World War II America played a significant role in the development of Film Noir. The war left a profound impact on society, instilling a sense of disillusionment and moral ambiguity. As the nation grappled with the uncertainties of the modern era, filmmakers began to depict the darker sides of human nature and the struggles of individuals against corrupt systems. This shift in narrative focus allowed for the exploration of complex characters facing life changing situations, echoing the anxieties of a society recovering from the trauma of war. Additionally, reflecting the turbulent societal mood of post-World War II America and the sense of disillusionment that permeated the era, characters often find themselves trapped in a gritty reality where right and wrong are not easily discernible. The stories frequently revolve around crime, portraying it as a seductive yet perilous option for characters entangled in despair. This interplay between desire and danger creates a compelling narrative that captivates viewers and evokes a range of emotions.

The Cold War era, marked by paranoia and uncertainty, was also to significantly influence the themes presented in Film Noir. As audiences grappled with fears of communism and societal breakdown, the genre offered a dark reflection of their anxieties. The inclination towards exploring the shadows of human nature and the fragility of morality mirrored the broader existential fears faced by society during this tumultuous period. The constant fear of espionage and the spectre of Communism loomed large, influencing characters and storylines that highlighted the internal struggles faced by individuals in an unstable world. Consequently, Film Noir remains a potent exploration of the human condition within a distinctly American framework.

Here is my top ten greatest Film Noir movies – slightly controversial as there is only one Bogart/Bacall movie in there and The Third Man is missing!

1. Double Indemnity (1944)– Barbara Stanwyck and Fred MacMurray, directed by Billy Wilder. This classic revolves around an insurance salesman who gets entangled in a deadly plot involving a femme fatale. Its sharp dialogue and pioneering depiction of a noir relationship set a high standard for subsequent films.
2. The Postman Always Rings Twice (1946)– Lana Turner and John Garfield. Frank is a drifter who soon falls for his boss, Nick’s, wife. In true femme fatale style, she convinces him to kill Nick, however things don’t go to plan leading to a fantastic plot twist at the end.
3. Gaslight (1944)– Ingrid Bergman and Charles Boyer. A dodgy marriage where the husband seeks to drive his wife insane through false accusations, manipulation and psychological trickery. Check out a very young Angela Lansbury as the brazen maid! The original ‘gaslighting’.
4. Touch of Evil (1958)– Charlton Heston and Janet Leigh, directed by Orson Welles. Notable for its opening sequence and chilling portrayal of corruption. The atmospheric cinematography and moral complexities position it as a quintessential Film Noir. (Modern audiences will have to ignore the casting of Charlton Heston as a Mexican character, which seems unpalatable today).
5. Laura (1944) – Gene Tierney and Dana Andrews. The detective investigating the murder of a young woman shot in the face becomes more and more obsessed the deeper he digs.
6. D.O.A (1949) – Edmund O’Brien and Pamela Britton. Frank Bigelow has been poisoned and only has 24 hours to find out who his murderer is.
7. Sunset Boulevard (1950)– Gloria Swanson and William Holden. The film begins with a death, Joe Gillis, in a swimming pool and then uses the classic noir technique of flashback to tell the tale of how Joe ended up there.
8. Kiss Me Deadly (1955) – Cloris Leachman and Ralph Meeker. The opening scene is electric and sets the tone for the rest of the film. The narrative follows private investigator Mike Hammer as he uncovers a conspiracy linked to a mysterious box that is never fully revealed. This ‘Mickey Spillane adaptation’ demonstrates how filmmakers addressed the anxieties of the atomic age, with the pursuit of the unknown symbolizing humanity’s struggle against overwhelming existential threats.
9. The Big Sleep (1946) – Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall. It wouldn’t be a proper film noir run down without Bogey making an appearance!
10. M (1931) – Peter Lorre, directed by Fritz Lang. M is an earlier German predecessor to the American Noir genre, however is so influential it had to be included! Hans Beckert is a child serial killer and laid the blue print for all serial killer films that would follow. ‘Nuff said.

I’d love to hear your thoughts – do you agree/disagree? Maybe you’re new to Noir? What is your favourite Film Noir movie?

If you like this post, please consider supporting us. Issue 1 and 2 of Power Cut can be purchased here.

This week we have a guest blog by Christina Curran, sharing her journey with photography and, specifically, therapeutic photography.

I have come to photography late in life – well, yes and no. When I was younger I took photographs of everything ; every gig I went to, the Halina 110 Flashmatic was tucked into a pocket and pulled out for drunken, lopsided shots. Unfortunately, the majority of those images were too blurry to be salvaged by the developers at Boots. I now look back on the missed opportunities I had to photograph 1980s youth culture from the inside, the female Gavin Watson wasn’t meant to be. 

Image @Christina Curran

Image @Christina Curran

Unfortunately, the Halina didn’t survive the mosh pit and when I went travelling in the early 1990s, I took another cheap and cheerful camera with me, Looking at these images now I can see I had an eye for candid moments. But I didn’t think photography was a ‘thing’ that was done by everyday people, and certainly not everyday people with a shitty little camera. Photography was for famous and glamorous arty people with intimidating and expensive cameras. So I thought. I believe this is still a barrier to photography for many women – it involves ‘tech’ and that is often seen as a male domain. And so the camera was abandoned.

Himachal Pradesh @Christina Curran

Coming back to photography now, I do so from a social work background and this led me to discovering therapeutic photography. I feel it allows for the perfect blend of my professional experience and long neglected creativity.

Therapeutic photography is an approach to photography that integrates self-inquiry, emotional exploration, and psychological well-being. Unlike traditional photography, where technical ability and artistic vision are highly valued, the main aim of therapeutic photography is positive change. This form of photography encourages participants to explore their thoughts and feelings while creating visual narratives that reflect their inner world. It is about the process rather than the end result.

Tibetan Prayer Flag @Christina Curran

A practice that works well with therapeutic photography is mindfulness. Mindfulness encourages individuals to be present in the moment, allowing them to engage fully in the creative process and develop a deeper understanding of their emotions. The very practice of taking a photograph can be a mindful exercise – we need to be alert to our environment and see what the moment presents us. We then need to consciously decide how and when to take the picture.

For me therapeutic photography literally invites us to view things from a different perspective. By pointing the camera in a slightly different way, the whole frame is changed. That is the power of photography. We can use it in our everyday lives as a tool to change perspective, by externalising the issue the photograph becomes the focus rather than the internal feeling. An abstract photograph can be taken as a metaphor for something big in our lives. Rather than having to describe and explain a deeply internal experience, we can shift the focus to the external photograph. Therapeutic photography is often facilitated in groups, and the peer validation one can experience through discussion is, itself, a powerful healing tool. [It is important to note that therapeutic photography must be differentiated from PhotoTherapy, which should only be carried out by a trained counsellor or psychotherapist.]

The image that I have in Issue 2 of Power Cut magazine is of an Eldorado wine bottle, but so distorted as to create an almost psychedelic image. I am attracted to the surreal, but also the mundane and how perspective can make the most mundane scene or object fascinating.

Local Haunt series by Sharon Harris

It is thought that 4.7 billion photographs are taken in the world every day – since the inception of the smartphone photography has become democratised – it is no longer the realm of arty-type men with expensive kit! However, much of this is part of current throwaway culture, photographs of the sandwich you had for lunch, a bag on sale in Primark, videos of gigs that will never be viewed again. Rather than living in the moment, many of us are relying on the smartphone camera for our memories. That is why I am drawn to analogue photography, the use of film means there has to be a more considered approach. Given that there is only a certain number of exposures in a roll of film, every shot matters! I am especially drawn to pinhole photography for the very reason that it is in so many ways antithetical to throwaway filter-laden images. Pinhole photography is the most basic form of photography and does not require a lens. A pinhole camera can be made from any lightproof box or tin such as cereal boxes and beer cans! Given that pinhole photography is fundamentally low-tech, it has a very unique aesthetic – often ethereal and dream-like as seen in Sharon Harris’s work.

I also love the work of mid-20^th century female photographers, Vivien Maier in particular.

Image @Vivien Maier

Vivien Maier, an enigmatic figure in the realm of street photography, was born in New York City in 1926. Maier worked as a nanny, but developed a passion for capturing the candid moments of urban life around her. Maier’s photographs reveal a keen sense of observation and an ability to tell a story through the photograph. Despite her talent, Maier’s work remained largely undiscovered during her lifetime, illustrating the barriers encountered by women in professional photography. However, posthumously, her extensive body of work has garnered recognition, emphasizing the importance of her perspective in documenting daily life in the mid-20th century. Maier left behind over 100,000 negatives, and was only re-discovered in 2007 at a Chicago auction house. Filmmaker, John Maloof, has led the charge in preserving her work, and in 2013 made the documentary Finding Vivien Maier.

I am very much at the beginning of my photography journey, but I hope the knowledge and insight I have (hopefully garnered) will allow me to take considered and thoughtful pictures, pictures with a story and something to say.

You can find Christina’s work on Instagram:

@pinholecurran

Issue 2 of Power Cut literary magazine is here!

Featuring; Ricky Monahan Brown, David Partington, James Bone, Irene Cunningham, Marka Rifat, Iain Bain, Kris Haddow, Laurie Donaldson, Jesse Hilson, Ike Attah, Kristina Stevens, Esther Arthurson, Alexis Somerville, Liz Kendall, Peter Newall, Stephen McQuiggan, Cormac Culkeen, Christina Curran, Jason Jawando & LG Thomson.

For the uninitiated amongst you, Power Cut is a literary and arts magazine, based in Scotland, UK, with a love for 20^th century culture. Issue 2 follows the same winning format as Issue 1 with short stories, poetry, memoir, art, retro recipes and a column from our resident bibliotherapist and foot dominatrix – Madame Bruttipedi.

Provocateurs Are Provoking!

Issue 2 kicks off with the superbly creepy ‘Artiste’ by Esther Arthurson. Set in a psychiatric/forensic unit it explores the boundaries of sanity and madness – while giving off serious Silence  of the Lambs vibes!

The theme of Issue 2 is ‘provocateur’ and Jesse Hilson’s drawings/artwork and both provocative and subversive. ‘Miss Scarlet’ flow nicely on from ‘Artiste’ and before we can take a breath we are into the work of Cormac Culkeen. Cormac has contributed two poems that don’t take any prisoners in their intensity,

                   where our mind was a consumptive’s and we were motes dancing over an open grave’s howling

                       maw, our gazes and hearts narrowed to blurred horizons.

                                                                                  (Recollections by Cormac Culkeen)

His second poem ‘Detail of an Uninvited Guest, 2003’ is written in prose style and charts the desperation of someone searching for escape and release.

Vintage Style

Our vintage ads provide some light-hearted relief from all the intensity and the first one taken from ‘Practical Householders’ demonstrates how to build your own fridge.

Marka Rifat features some beautiful poetry that evokes childhood memories, nature and electronic music pioneers Daphne & Delia.

‘Rochester Vibes’ by Liz Kendall has us consider the similarities between Axl Rose and Mr Rochester. Never again will you think of one without the other creeping in next to him.

‘Spirit’ by Kris Haddow opens up a moment in time in an unnamed Scottish city and reflects on the fragility and interconnection of life that often goes by unnoticed.

Laurie Donaldson’s poetry has a cultural edge and opens up brutalism, the work of Nam June Paik and the bursting of the Dom Aquarée in Berlin,

bunched shoals slowly rotating

  to freefall, clownfish, batfish,

surgeonfish tumbling in gravity’s

         sudden embrace.

‘The day the fish were free’ is curated with ‘Drift’ by Ike Attah, a painting in acrylic of the shoreline at Redcar beach, in the northeast of England.

The next story is a tongue-in-cheek re-imagining of a Famous Five story with a modern-day twist by David Partington. See what happening when the gang investigate the local milkman!

Gen-X, Nudity and Horses

Kristina Stevens’ prose poetry explores protest and anti-establishment lifestyles and leads us into Ricky Monahan Brown’s blistering take-down of (or tribute to?) Gen-X in ‘Phantom Limbs’. Things get intense and raw again in ‘The Father, The Scum and The Holy Spirits’ by John Tinney which describes a man torn between his role as a father and his corporeal desires. Warning: it contains nudity. James Bone and Irene Cunningham serve up some much needed poetry before Peter Newall takes us back to post-war Germany and the cost of our innate need for freedom, in ‘All the King’s Horses’. Madame Bruttipedi provides the comic relief this time as she takes a trip to Comoros to open a library and train a burlesque troupe in Hahaia (yes, it’s a real place).

LG Thomson has written a beautifully honest and touching essay/memoir about growing up and her affinity with and love for the American new wave band, DEVO. The photograph of the author in her yellow plastic DEVO suit alone is worth the price of the magazine!

We move on to odd behaviour next with Iain Bain’s ‘Horses Mostly’, a story about the ultimate grifter, anxiety and hating Marcel Duchamp.

Surrealism and Recipes

Finally – we get to what everyone has been waiting for, the retro recipe. I’m not going to give any spoilers, but it involves bananas, boiled ham, mustard and cream.

Jason Jawando’s story ‘Tupac is Dead’, is a farcical encounter involving a bicycle and a Chinese  takeaway. And then things get really surreal in ‘Lobsters’ by Alexis Somerville which continues the burlesque vibe in a rundown seaside town.

‘Eldorado Nights’ by Christina Curran is a surreal photograph which highlights how everyday objects can create beauty if we are prepared to change our perception. The odd and surreal continues in our last story, ‘Win the Headlines’ by Stephen McQuiggan. After reading this you will always be wary of free newspapers. Issue 2 ends with the poem ‘Boat the the May’ by Marka Rifat,

Sand eels, the only glint of light, held in serrations.

Sandwiches, held in gloved hands, forgotten in the whirr.

You can purchase Power Cut here

You can also give yourself the gift of an A3 print of the inimitable Madame Bruttipedi or – if you are feeling brave – a personal bibliotherapy prescription from her! 

Let’s Start With Your Stripper Name

The first thing we need to know about burlesque dancers is that they all have exotic names – Gypsy Rose Lee, Tempest Blaze, Blaze Starr, Immodesty Blaize (I’m detecting a pattern here), Lili St Cyr, Dita Von Teese etc. No one, except Bettie Page, seems to have hit the big time in adult entertainment with a pedestrian name (ok, I’ll concede Josephine Baker also). Every so often a meme will come round on social media to generate your stripper/burlesque name. A common ‘formula’ is your first pet’s name plus your childhood street name; however, this gives me the stripper name Buster Riddell. Buster Riddell is more likely to be a burly inmate of HMP Belmarsh than an alluring femme fatale selling out The Crazy Horse in Paris.  Another formula is to pair the colour of your underwear with the last thing you ate: this time I would be Grey Cheese, again, not sexy.

It is said that striptease and burlesque are sisters not twins. With the former the focus is all on the nakedness, burlesque however focuses on the story, the tease, the imagination, the art.

History of Burlesque

Historically there are two well known forms of burlesque – Victorian Burlesque and American Burlesque. The word itself derives from the Italian burlesco, which in turn derives from burla meaning ridicule or mockery. A burlesque show has its roots in vaudeville and variety performance, popular with the lower and middle classes as a way of lampooning the culture of the upper classes. It could be argued that there was a political element to burlesque in the form of social commentary, unlike stripping which was purely for male sexual gratification. Burlesque arrived in America in the 1840s and developed from ‘hoochie-coochie’ dancing, a form of provocative belly dancing. Millie DeLeon id said to be the first American Queen of Burlesque and created her act when she ‘forgot’ to wear her tights on stage.

The golden age of burlesque was 1900-1930, the time when Josephine Baker was performing at the Folies Bergère in Paris. It was here that she wore her (in)famous banana skirt. In addition to being an exotic dancer, she also worked for the French resistance and adopted 12 children from around the world. Baker was the trailblazer of the ‘rainbow family’, long before Madonna and Angelina Jolie.

Burlesquing the Burlesque

In Issue 2 of Power Cut, ‘Lobsters’ by Alexis Somerville is a story set in a rundown British sea-side town where dancing and glamour have long parted company,

“…I performed in second-rate shows at the end of the pier, dancing into the stark cool nights in a place run by an old bloke who fancied himself the Hugh Hefner of breadline Britain, decades after the golden age of striptease when Gareth’s dad had opened the club, with those stunning burlesque stars whose photos now lined the walls, and the son wouldn’t shut up about those halcyon days as he slapped us on the arse…”

 

The Lobster Girls of Langton’s satirize the era of all female dance troupes and the objectification of female performers. All burlesque dancers have a prop or gimmick – Dita Von Teese performed in a large martini glass, Lili St Cyr her transparent bubble bath, and Blaze Starr often had a black panther on stage with her. In ‘Lobsters’ the twist at the end makes all these props pale in comparison.

Power Cut has another link to the burlesque world in the form of Madame Bruttipedi, our resident bibliotherapist and foot dominatrix. In Issue 1 of Power Cut we learn that Madame used to work as a burlesque dancer until her feet got too sore and she retrained as a bibliotherapist. Madame Bruttipedi is, of course, a parody or burlesque of the burlesque conventions of beauty. She looks like a stereotypical 1950s pinup girl apart from her hideous feet, challenging beauty norms and expectations. In Issue 2 we see her jetting to Comoros to train burlesque dancers in Hahaia, and she also offers us another highly entertaining bibliotherapy prescription.

Vintage Vibe or Stereotype?

The neo-burlesque of the 1990s kick-started the burlesque revival with stars such as Dita Von Teese and Immodesty Blaize. Driving this resurgence was a nostalgia for the glamour and spectacle of days a different era, and burlesque continue to have a vintage aesthetic and association. But is there still a place for burlesque dancing in today’s world? Like everything burlesque has evolved – there is now boylesque (male-fronted performance) and, of course, drag shows. Do these 21^st century interpretations offer us anything new or simply serve up stereotypes in contemporary costumes?

Madame Bruttipedi appears in Issue 1 & 2 of Power Cut magazine. If you are new to Power Cut and want to get up to speed on her exploits, both issues can be purchased here.

Mona Llsa by Maria De Campos

Long before I’d ever heard the term literary appropriation I came across Wide Sargasso Sea (1966), which confused the hell out of me. It really did. It was transgressive and subversive. I just didn’t know you were allowed to do that sort of thing. It broke with convention and unspoken rules, it was akin to stealing someone’s boyfriend or cheating in an exam. Something you might want to do but didn’t dare. Don’t get me wrong, I love Wide Sargasso Sea, but I couldn’t quite get my head around the idea of taking someone else’s story and putting your own interpretation onto it. A bit like Ian Rankin finishing off William Ilvanney’s The Dark Remains which, coincidently, is also a prequel. But my introduction to Wide Sargasso Sea was long before the advent of fan fiction, where it is the norm to create your own stories featuring your favourite fictional characters.

Hard Work Maketh the Writer

Until I knew better, I had this idealistic notion that all writers were gifted with a creative power, and inspiration would effortlessly flow through them in fevered bouts of productivity. Once overcome by the muse they would work in a trance-like state oblivious to corporeal hindrances such as food or sleep until the job was done. I saw them as near-mystical beings blessed with the ability to interpret the world in a beautiful and unique way. This ridiculous notion is what prevented me from writing until later in life as I believed that not being in possession of such superpowers was proof I didn’t have any writing talent. When I sat down to write there was no spiritual experience, I didn’t produce flawless spellbinding work and so I assumed I just didn’t have it. My doors of perception always seemed to be wedged shut. In my naive and purist beliefs, all writers were visionaries who, almost involuntarily, exorcised unique ideas and masterpieces. But then Jean Rhys came along and took someone else’s story and reinterpreted it from an entirely different perspective. This was mind-blowing stuff.

Modenschau by Hannah Höch

Fast forward a couple of decades and I encountered Jean Rhys on crack –  a.k.a Pride and Prejudice and Zombies (2009) by Seth Grahame-Smith. For anyone unfamiliar with a mash-up novel, or ‘frankenfiction’ as it has been termed, it takes a classic novel from the 18^th or 19^th century (out of copyright) and reworks it with another genre, usually horror and more specifically the supernatural (most mash-ups feature zombies, werewolves or vampires) with titles such as Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters, Alice in Zombieland, and Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter, and so on. They can also be known as hybrid genre, multigenre, fusion genre, remixes, parodies and knockoffs. This is taking literary appropriation to another level. The mash-up novel is a happy citizen of remix culture and is a descendant of music mash-ups, themselves a product of hip-hop and house music sampling. If we dig further we can also see the roots of literary mash-ups in the work and ethos of the Dadaists, who used collage, surrealism and assemblage extensively. An academic interpretation might conclude they are a prime example of metamodernist intertextuality. Of course, appropriating and ‘recycling’ is not a new concept in literature, it was common among the Elizabethan and Jacobean playwrights for example to reuse and borrow each other’s ideas and words. And I don’t think there is a novel or poem in existence where the influence of previous authors or poets can’t be detected. There is a fine line between appropriation and inspiration/influence, and without the latter we would see very little movement or development in the arts.

Money Over Inspiration

Literary mash-ups however, seem to take it too far. The literary appropriation is blatant to the point that a mash-up novel isn’t simply inspired by the original but actually just takes it wholesale and inserts its own flourishes here and there. Integral to the mash-up novel is parody, which I explored in my last blog post on Satire in Literature, and again this relies heavily on the original work.

“It is a truth universally acknowledged that zombie in possession of brains must be in want of more brains. Never was this truth more plain than during the recent attacks at Netherfield Park, in which a household of eighteen was slaughtered and consumed by a horde of the living dead.”

This is the first line of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, we can see how reliant it is on the original,

“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.”

P&P&Z is clearly playing on the formal language used in P&P and juxtaposing this with out of context images and ideas e.g. the living dead.

Dead Kennedys

So far so creative genius in their ingenuity. But are mash-ups really an innovative development in literature, one of these techniques that come along and change the course of things forever, like stream of consciousness, or are they a product of consumer culture where the driver is profit rather than creativity? Remember how I used to think all writers had to be touched by the hand of God to possess ethereal talent? Pride and Prejudice and Zombies is the opposite of this. What came first was the marketing idea; an editor at Quirk Books was looking around for the next big thing and began pairing popular archetypes such as pirate, zombie, ninja, dinosaur etc with work in the public domain (as mentioned, this is important as there are no copyright restrictions) e.g Tess of the D’Ubervilles and Ghosts* – not catchy enough, A Christmas Carol and Poltergeists* – getting there…Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, perfect. He had a title now needed someone to write the content, and using 75% of the original made it even easier, why reinvent the wheel?

The cover was released before the book and sales were driven on this image alone. Of course, it was a sensation and the mash-up element ensured it captured TWO consumer markets – the Jane Austin fans and horror fans. A stream of similar titles followed. But was it a shrewd move that ensured double revenue or was it a case of trying to appeal to everyone and pleasing no one?

Were mash-up novels a gimmicky flash in the pan, or have they changed the way genre is written and consumed? Is genre still even a thing? It seems the boundaries are ever-blurring – with romantasy, hist-horrical, sci-noir, sci-cozy, gothic fantasy, silkpunk, etc etc.

Rule Breaking, Convention Bending

I’m all for breaking with rules and conventions – while I’m not a literary mash-up fan (in terms of the genre), I like the concept. When we listen to a piece of music that has been sampled, we’re given a different perspective on it and it bestows a fresh and contemporary meaning. I think the same can be achieved with literature if done well. Although not a mash-up novel in the strictest sense, Slaughterhouse 5 by Kurt Vonnegut splices storytelling elements and themes that didn’t normally sit together; a semi-autobiographical war story combined with time travel and creatures from fictional planets. The end result is a powerful anti-war satire and exploration into free will.

A brilliant example of literary appropriation is Madeline Miller’s Circe (2018). Circe brings the myths and characters from Greek mythology, principally the Odyssey, and presents them to us in a modern retelling from a different point of view, i.e. Circe, the witch. Circe is appropriating Greek mythology and like Wide Sargasso Sea, taking an existing story and re-framing it from the female lens. But unlike mash-ups, it doesn’t parody or heavily rely on the existing text, it takes an idea and develops it into its own story. What is interesting about Circe is that it makes Greek mythology accessible.  Not many people would pick up Homer or Euripides for light reading, Greek mythology being seen as too academic or intellectual, and beyond the realms of popular culture. But Circe straddles this divide and perhaps introduces a new generation and legion of fans to these myths and stories. Circe repackages Greek mythology for the modern reader, but is it creative genius or lazy opportunism?

Where does your work sit – are you a full-on mash-up artist or do you flirt with a light sprinkling of influence?

* Titles are my own.

Satire in Literature?

‘A work infused with humour and satire…’

‘A biting social satire…’

‘A social commentary oozing satire and acerbic wit…’

It seems that every poem or novel published these days is a satirical commentary on the flaws in modern society. Is there really such a plethora of witty contemporary satirists in our midst – or (asks the cynic in me) is this just sneaky spin by publicists to re-package otherwise quite pedestrian work? What even is satire in literature?

When setting out to write your own scathing satirical opus, I don’t want you getting your parody confused with your spoof and – heavens forbid – writing a sequel to Android Karenina instead of the next Animal Farm. So let’s look at how these techniques differ and overlap.

Parody and Cyborgs

Android Karenina (2010), by Ben H. Winters, falls into the category of parody. Parody is classed as imitation of a specific work for comedic purposes, and it is usually obvious what the targeted work is. For example, Android Karenina, part of the literary mash up genre, is clearly a play on Anna Karenina, written by Tolstoy in 1878. While it retains the characters from the original, the novel goes on to juxtapose tsarist Russia with steampunk, time travel, space travel and cyborgs. Winters uses two literary devices – incongruity and subversion – to create parody. Incongruity; the novel Anna Karenina conforms to literary realism and so, being set in 19^th century Imperial Russia, we wouldn’t expect to see cyborgs wandering about. Subversion; not only is steampunk anachronistic, but its aesthetic is anathema to the formal style of Anna and Vronsky, and this shatters our expectations and the world-building blueprint we would have.

Other examples of parody novels are:

Bored of the Rings (1969) – Douglas Kenney and Henry Beard lampoon Tolkien’s behemoth

Snowball’s Chance (2002) – John Reed’s sequel to Animal Farm

Fifty Shames of Earl Grey (2012) – there are dozens of Fifty Shades rip offs, this one was picked for the wonderfully named author, Fanny Merkin (aka Andrew Shaffer)

Pride and Prejudice and Zombies (2009) – by Seth Grahame-Smith. Another mash-up novel; does what it says on the tin

Shamela (1741) – Henry Fielding’s lambasting attack on Samuel Richardson’s popular Pamela (1740), proving that parody novels aren’t a modern invention

Don’t Scream or I’ll Spoof

Spoof is similar to parody; however, it takes a broader approach by mocking the hallmarks and conventions of an entire genre, often incorporating and pastiching the defining characteristics from several works. It isn’t identifiable to one specific movie or work, but cherry picks the best (or worst) of the genre. So, for example, the Scary Movie franchise spoofs teenage horror films and tropes, through mimicry and exaggeration of conventions such as the jump scare, sequels, stereotypical characters, dark/secluded setting, the male gaze, and violence and gore, etc. It ridicules movies such as The Blair Witch Project (1999), Scream (1996), and I Know What You Did Last Summer (1997).

Satire as a political tool

What do Spitting Image and Animal Farm have in common?

Answer: They are both examples of political satire.

Satire is often more subtle than parody or spoof while still using humour to comment on or criticise an aspect of people/culture/politics/society. Whereas spoof and parody are usually employed (but not exclusively) for entertainment, satire has a point to make. Spoof, parody and satire are not precious entities and will often work together; the 1980s tv show Spitting Image was both parody and satire. The puppets parodied specific individuals, e.g the famous Margaret Thatcher puppet, however the show overall commented on and satirized the politics of the day. As well as humour, metaphor is a common device often used in satire, as is hyperbole and irony.

Thatcher’s schnoz-tastic puppet was based on the caricatures of political cartoonist Gerald Scarfe, known for his grotesque and surreal style. Political cartoons have been a major vehicle for satire in the UK since the 18^th century, one of the most famous being ‘The Plumb-pudding in danger’ by James Gillray (1757-1815).

 

“Just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean they aren’t after you.”

 

Examples of satire in literature include:

American Psycho (1991) – Bret Easton Ellis uses caricature and hyperbole to ridicule and expose the excesses of 1980s Wall St, itself a metaphor for wealth and power. Bateman’s relentless obsession with the banal and superficial – such as cleansing products, clothes, and hair mocks both societal materialism and fragile masculinity.

Catch-22 (1961), by Jospeh Heller is so influential that the term is now part of everyday speech. Heller used satire to highlight the absurdities of war,

“Just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean they aren’t after you.”

 – Joseph Heller, Catch-22

Animal Farm (1945) – George Orwell uses allegory, analogy and metaphor to critique the Russian revolution, however, it can be interpreted more broadly as a warning of how seductive power and totalitarianism can be.

Madame Bruttipedi’s Masterclass in Satire

Madame Bruttipedi is a character invented for Power Cut. She embodies the pin-up girl vibe generally, taking elements from the genre as a whole, making her spoof rather than parody. Had she been illustrated splashing about in a martini glass and called Gita Von Sleaze, then she would have been a parody of Dita Von Teese.

What makes a satirical Madame?

Madame Bruttipedi employs several satirical devices. Firstly caricature or hyperbole; Madame is a stereotypical pin up model, incorporating all the tropes of male fantasy of a woman to the point of almost being a caricature of the genre. She is a highly sexualised version of a woman, her hair, make-up, waist, breasts, outfit – until we see her feet. Whoa – what are they??? We weren’t expecting bunions to be peeking out the stockings. Bunions are sexy, it’s clearly incongruity – a device touched on above. Ugly feet don’t belong in the fantasy – ridiculing the expectation of female beauty. She also makes a statement about society’s expectation of perceived perfection – with her stinking feet Madame is far from perfect. Madame is perfect on the surface, but the reality is she is rotting from the inside out. Satire often plays a role is social commentary, and this is often achieved through metaphor. Madame can and should be interpreted  metaphorically. A metaphor of what? You tell me.

Madame also subverts our expectation of what her role might be. Her look is very striking and clearly based in the glamour world, but she is a bibliotherapist and foot dominatrix. What on God’s earth is a foot dominatrix many of you will be asking? What the hell is a bibliotherapist? And here the satire moves on to the elitism of the literary world;

“Madame will prescribe books for you that reveal new perspectives, shine light on your potential and re-enchant the world for you.”

(Power Cut Issue 1)

Do we really believe that she can do this by telling us what books to read? Does Madame succeed as a form of satire in literature? What point she is making – I’ll leave  for you to decide.

If you enjoy what we do, please consider supporting us by purchasing a magazine, or a bibliotherapy prescription by the wonderfully satirical Madame Bruttipedi.

“What struck me as I wandered through the exhibition was how widespread and significant photomontage and collage are in women’s art”

A woven red Double Labia; images of a stoical women dressed up as a cooker or a washing machine; disorientating screams on constant loop and visceral photographs of a punk performing in a meat dress long before Lady Gaga entered the stage. Where was I? The Women in Revolt! Art & Activism UK 1970-1990 exhibition in Edinburgh.

What struck me as I wandered through the exhibition was how widespread and significant photomontage and collage are in women’s art: from the visual art of Linder Sterling (meat dress provocateur), and Gee Vaucher – to the feminist zines of Lucy Whitman (aka Lucy Toothpaste), and the Riot grrrl movement of the 1990s.

Collage and Counterculture

Photomontage and collage have long been associated with counterculture movements, from the Dadaists to punk, due to its anti-establishment aesthetic. Hannah Hӧch was the only female artist included in the Dada movement (Lady Dada) and seen as a pioneer of the photomontage style, her most famous work being, Cut with the Kitchen Knife Dada Through the Last Weimar Beer-Belly Cultural Epoch in Germany, 1919; a commentary on Weimar Germany’s culture and politics. While Jamie Reid’s God Save the Queen image is the most iconic and enduring of the punk movement other – female – artists, were producing, arguably, more subversive and provocative work such as Gee Vaucher’s artwork for Crass and Linder Sterling’s art for the sleeve of The Buzzcocks’ single, Orgasm Addict.

Photomontage and collage were low-tech; usually cutting and pasting from mediums that were classed as disposable or without great value e.g. used newspapers and magazines, and most importantly it was DIY – the antithesis to the slick chimera sold by brands and corporations. Indeed, many of the artists used the branding and adverts of these corporations in their work, subverting and reworking them as satire and parody. This approach is now commonplace, and in 2012 the artist collective Brandalism was formed. 

However, the roots and significance of the female relationship with collage and pastiche is much older than the relatively new commentary and rejection of consumer society.

Women’s Crafts and Scraps

Although scrapbooking as a practice can be traced back to medieval times, the modern scrapbooking movement grew in popularity in the US in the 1980s/90s. The essence of scrapbooking is to document memories and stories about your life. It not only combines journaling and photographic imagery but offers sensory appeal with tactile fabrics and even fragrant dried flowers; clippings of recipes, cards, tickets and invitations can be included also. Scrapbooking is about taking, often disparate, snapshots in time and curating them into a comprehensive and united narrative.

This idea of taking scraps to create one comprehensive story is seen over and over in female art and craft; quilting and patchwork for instance, or weaving – the patterns of different countries each telling different stories. In her experimental weavings, Sheila Hicks blurs the distinction between craft and fine art, and uses a variety of materials such as shoelaces, elastic bands, shirt collars and even transparent noodles. Miriam Shapiro also blurred this line and coined the phrase ‘femmage’ – a combination of feminine and collage – and often used materials such as lace, thread and chintz. This highlights the significance in female art of the relationship between environment and materials; often there was no separation between home and art – art had to be made from the ‘scraps’ of domestic life.

“The collagists who came before me were men, who lived in cities, and often roamed the streets at night scavenging, collecting material, their junk, from urban spaces. My world, my mother’s and grandmother’s world, was a different one. The fabrics I used would be beautiful if sewed into clothes or draped against windows, made into pillows, or slipped over chairs. My ‘junk,’ my fabrics, allude to a particular universe, which I wish to make real, to represent.” 

                                                                  Miriam Shapiro, 1977

 

Women’s Time is Also Pieced Together in Scraps

By their very nature, scrapbooks, quilts, collage art and zines all have a fragmentary and dislocated aesthetic, it is what creates the art. However, this stitching together of segments is also a powerful visual metaphor of how women experience time.

Rigid structure in the arts is often seen as a male characteristic, whereas collage is chaotic, often contradictory, with several themes or ideas jostling for prominence. And this reflects women’s lives – pulled in several directions at once by competing demands and traditional roles; mother, wife, homemaker, employee and often carer. The disjointed nature emulating the scraps of time stolen and stitched together to hold and carry the work.

Zines and Power Cut

“with nothing to lose – it was able to take risks, to shock and to provoke.”

 

The Women in Revolt! Exhibition has many feminist zines on display, one of the most influential contributors being Lucy Whitman. In 1977, Whitman created JOLT a ‘feminist, anti-racist, anti-fascist punk fanzine’. JOLT contains all the elements of the anti-establishmentarian collage aesthetic – it is very much DIY (often handwritten), it has a ‘scrapbook’ like quality with bits taken from disparate sources and glued together. It subverts the expectations we have of the images and deconstructs cultural and social purviews. There is something deeply truthful about JOLT – and with nothing to lose – it was able to take risks, to shock and to provoke.

I’d like to think that Power Cut maintains a bit of this spirit and ethos. With a budget of zero, our logo was created in the collage tradition with scissors, glue, wallpaper remnants and poster paints.

And although the magazine isn’t literally a photomontage or cut and paste job like JOLT or Sniffing Glue; it doesn’t adhere to the traditional literary magazine format, but rather cuts and pastes across form and genre bringing in humour and satire, visual art and commentary to prod and poke at what a literary magazine is or should be.

If you enjoyed reading this and would like to support us, please consider buying a magazine or a bibliotherapy prescription from Madame Bruttipedi.

So Thrilling It’s Hypnotic!

We made it! Issue 1 has arrived! The foggy who-are you-kidding idea of summer 2023 has become a physical reality – a print magazine. Our inaugural issue contains an incendiary mix of artists with contributions from:

Terry Holland – Sinéad Ní Braoin – Kristina Stevens – Don Palmer – Callum J Grubb – Mike Dmytruk – Jason O’Toole – Danielle McMahon – Yvonne Young – Berin Aptoula – Oz Harwick – Jenny Vuglar – Annie Foy – Joe Murray – Callum Henderson – George Smith – Ben Macnair 

I cannot stress enough the gratitude I have for the writers and artists who took a gamble of trusting a newbie-nobody with their work. Without them Power Cut would not exist.

There have been ups and downs – and mistakes – but overall, for a first attempt, Power Cut has scrubbed up pretty well. Producing a printed magazine has been a huge learning curve and one that I hope continues as we grow and develop. Saying that, Issue 1 is better than I could have hoped for and features 17 unique contributors, including three evocative pieces of visual art by Mike Dmytruk.

Surrealism, Struggles and 20th Century Vibes

In an extract from her memoir, Jenny Vuglar leads us into the heart of the women’s peace camp and the struggles she faced as a protestor at Greenham Common in the 1980s. Callum J Grubb is a remarkable young man who lives a 1940s life in modern day Scotland, without the desire for a mobile phone or social media. His typed article about his fascination with 40s is an inspiration for anyone wanting to pursue a vintage lifestyle. And our poems by Danielle McMahon, Jason O’Toole, Oz Hardwick, Don Palmer, and Berin Aptoula ooze 20^th century vibes and pop culture.

For metal heads there is an essay on the relationship between metal, horror and the occult. Where else are you going to find Nicolo Paganini, Giuseppe Tartini, Metallica, Jaws and Shock ‘Em Dead referenced in the one article? If you find this surreal – wait until you read the short stories by Terry Holland, Callum Henderson and George Smith! Terry’s unfortunate protagonist only wanted a relaxing soak in the tub but had to deal with esoteric musings by Malcolm McLaren’s ghost. Callum tells a strange tale about a ‘sineetah’ who eats cakes for the dead, and in ‘Strathclyde Regional Cooncil’, George creates a parallel universe that might have come to pass had rave culture become a political force in Scotland.

Kristina Stevens offers some dirty realism in ‘Trolley Dolly’, her absurdist story about two people waiting for a life that has already passed them by. She also contributes an evocative piece of memoir about a childhood visit to Nigeria.

“more facial hair…than a Mariachi Band convention.”

As the yin to Jenny’s yang, Annie Foy gives us a blistering piece of women’s lib satire in ‘Sisters Are Doing it for Themselves’ that has “more facial hair…than a Mariachi Band convention”. Careful with the rhinestones!

We then lurch into a bit of crime noir with ‘Alfie’ by Joe Murphy, where our eponymous anti-hero is a two-bit player is Glasgow’s underworld. It is old-skool crime, Kray-brothers-style, with a bank robbery and dreams of a Spanish getaway.

And then – just to make sure we can’t be accused of being too ‘samey’ – we have two powerful pieces of flash by Sinéad Ní Braoin set in wartime Germany.

Toast Water and a Foot Dominatrix Bibliotherapist

By now you’re probably thinking – wow – Issue 1 is simply jam-packed with cultural goodness, could it get any better? Actually yes. We also have an exclusive recipe for Toast Water – the go-to refreshment for Victorian invalids, and an abundance of kitsch mid-century vintage ads. And – what a coincidence – our Hovis ad ties in nicely with our recipe,

A well-balanced bread is essential for men and women who need to maintain a lithe and lighter body…

As if all that isn’t enough of a retro feast, there is none other than our very own Madame Bruttipedi, fresh from the burlesque stages of Yoshiwara and ready to provide bibliotherapy prescriptions to our lovely readers. Madame has a regular column in our print magazine where she will endeavour to untangle your problems and salve any emotional disturbances through the wonders of literature. For those of you who don’t already know, Madame has really ugly feet and will only work with readers that dig that sort of thing.

Phwew! It’s some ride…what are you waiting for? Start your digital detox and delve into Issue 1. Get your copy now!

If I told you reading print magazines rather than online magazines would improve your health and well-being would you believe me? What if I said that it might also reduce your carbon footprint?

Power Hungry Internet

Way back in the 1980s when Amstrad computers and fax machines began to furnish leather-topped hedge fund desks, the dream of the paperless office began. Administrators and associates fantasised about the day when chunky metal filing cabinets and endless dog-eared files would be banished forever. But we are still a long way from being paperless; we use more paper now than ever. We’ve all heard a variation of the joke about the volume of photocopying killing a whole tree – wasn’t the digital age going to be the saviour of the rainforests?

There is still a consensus that less paper is good, it seems a reasonable and logical premise. But what you don’t hear about is the carbon footprint of data storage. Every email, text, file, photo or video that is sent has to be stored, usually in ‘the cloud’. Most people don’t give the cloud any thought, assuming it drifts benignly above us, an ethereal entity a bit like 1950s radio waves. But actually data storage occurs in village-size electricity-guzzling data centres; thousands of square feet of servers requiring industrial energy-thirsty cooling systems. According to the New York Times,

“Worldwide, digital warehouses use about 30 billion watts of electricity, roughly equivalent to the output of 30 nuclear power plants,”

And this was in 2012!! Let’s not even think about the ethics of mineral mining and the ever-growing problem of discarded electronics.

Paper Fights Back

Paper, on the other hand, is easily recycled and modern inks are now much less polluting than before. The paper industry is fighting back and contesting the ‘go green go paperless’ claim. And when you consider that storing a terabyte of data for a year produces 10kg of CO2e you can see that digital isn’t as clean as we are led to believe. (University of Cambridge).

But you’re still not quite convinced so you search for your favourite online magazine. Jesus, Elvis and the mother of all hangovers this is tedious! Have you noticed the Columbo-esque dogged determinism required to get to the damn thing? GDPR cookie preferences, shit wi-fi, slow-loading site, pop-ups, notifications, pop-ups, pop-ups…you’re finally there and…BAM! Another pop-up; sign up for a subscription, a newsletter, chips and curry sauce on Mondays, adverts with 10%, 25%, 150% off. Are you still persevering or have you given up yet?

Having finally reached the website, very few of us can resist the FOMO lure of hyperlinks; this looks interesting…no this really is fascinating…I just need to find out about...and into another article, another review, another site. This isn’t happening by chance, the internet is designed this way. You could click through links day and night for the next hundred years and still be nowhere in sight of an ‘end’.

In contrast, the serene world of a print magazine has no annoying pop-ups, no rabbit warrens of time-grabbing hyperlinks or relentless demands for your e-mail address. It is a finite product that is self-contained, giving the reader control over what they read and the time they spend on it.

All Tattoos Are Beautiful

My first tattoo was an old-school swallow, beloved by sailors and jailbirds (especially on the thumb webbing). From the minute that first squeeze of Savlon was applied, I knew I’d made a mistake. Sometimes the cheapest tattoos aren’t always the best. Years later I finally got round to sorting out a cover-up courtesy of the genius, Xed Le Head. On inspection, he confirmed my swallow was, indeed, shit, but that was ok as, ultimately, all tattoos were beautiful. Xed lived for tattooing and any tattoo, by its very existence, was a piece of art to him.

And I feel the same about print magazines. A print magazine is a beautiful thing. Unlike the soulless endless scrolling on a device, it offers a sensory experience appealing to all senses… Yes, including taste – some people LOVE chewing paper! Visually, a print magazine can be akin to walking through an art gallery, it pops with vivid colours and evocative images that are so much more powerful than those viewed on a screen. And what about the ASMR satisfaction of listening to the pages turning? This rhythmic sound has a calming effect and roots us in the here and now. The feel and smell of the paper also enhance the experience making it immersive and interactive. I’ve never met anyone who smells their phone screen or laptop keyboard.

Print Magazines are the Antidote

As so many of us now spend the majority of our working days – and leisure time – staring at a screen, a print magazine can offer respite from this, a sanctuary from the online world, quiet time from all the digital demands. It is an antidote to information and content overload. We are all aware that extended screen time can lead to eye strain and poor sleep (from overstimulation of blue light). A print magazine, however, offers a different reading experience, one that is more focused and engaged; the deep reading allows us to slow down and enter into a meditative, dreamlike state. Although magazine content can be read in any order, it is designed to tell its own story with a beginning, middle and end. Picking up a print magazine is making a conscious decision to take time out and allow the world to stop for ten minutes.

“investing in a fitness magazine can make the difference between a chocolate muffin for breakfast and a green smoothie”

So you’re convinced. You went out and purchased a print magazine. Chances are you chose it because it aligns with your values or interests or aspirations, and so naturally you will want to keep it to remind yourself of these or simply to enjoy re-reading the articles. A print magazine can give you a sense of community and belonging, a worldview that you identify with. If you are into fitness, investing in a fitness magazine can make the difference between a chocolate muffin for breakfast and a green smoothie. A photography magazine in your back pocket lets the world know that you know your aperture from your composition. You may carry your magazine around in your bag to look cool, or display it on the coffee table to impress your friends and let them know how intellectual/arty/hip/edgy/nerdy you are. You may be a super fan of a specific magazine and collect every issue. And that is another beauty of print magazines – ownership; they are yours, you choose where to store them and how to display them. You can go back to them again and again, and flick through to a favourite article or image. How often do we do this with online content? Yes, you can go back to them again and again and again. Print magazines cannot be changed; unlike digital content, they cannot be deleted or edited, updated or ‘enhanced’. I collect vintage magazines and stepping inside the covers feels like I have mastered time travel, discovered a portal to a bygone age. Will we ever get such a thrill from vintage websites?

Fly Swat or Ransom Note?

And for all those lingering sceptics among you how about these; a print magazine can be read in the bath without fear of losing charge/electrocution, it doesn’t ring or beep or lose connection, no one can track if you’ve read it or not or what % is still to be read, it doesn’t have cookies, it can be used as a wasp/fly swat, cup coaster, wobbly table wedge, lining for a cat litter tray, any paper-mache project you have coming up, it can be donated to the doctor’s surgery or dentist waiting room, it can be used for wrapping glass when moving home, it can be cut up for a collage project or ransom note, you can make paper hats and paper boats from it, and if you are having an argument with someone you can tear it up or throw it at them for dramatic effect (not advisable as you’ll probably regret it and the other person will rightly think you are a bit unhinged). And if none of these appeal – you can channel your inner Duchamp and draw moustaches and doodles on it when you’re bored.

Have you got any other uses for the printed page?