Exhibit 1.3.18

Camera Obscura

I knew since their first issue that Camera Obscura would be one of my favorite literary journals. It’s stylish without neurosis, smart without smugness, relevant without pandering. It’s weird how easy a journal like this can make the format and how, well, obsolete it can make other journals.

It’s not the photography that makes CO seem bigger–though it certainly doesn’t hurt–but the boldness of the fiction which, much like the design, always seems to be doing several things at once without falling into any of the usual traps. Like the photographs, it’s always worldly and adroit and, damnit, just hard to look away from. Take the opening to Vincent Czyz’s “The Nameless Saint”:

It was the hour when the lamplighter, toting a ladder over his shoulder, made his tedious rounds; when workers slogged through the streets as though souls on their way to purgatory; when bones turning to dust in graveyards unexpectedly shifted like a heap of logs burning on the grate. This was not the quarter of Samirska lit by theaters and cafes, cabarets and fine restaurants–a quarter smiling like a crescent moon in the dusk–here the restaurants had bare wooden floors and for a drima offered a bowl of cabbage soup or, for a few more, greasy stew and a slice of black village bread. here, mounted gendarmes patrolled the streets in pairs or not at all.

You want to read the rest of that story and the rest of that issue.

Of course, I have a story here which you probably don’t want to read and is mostly notable for having taken its title from the repeated line in an Arthur & Yu song (“1000 Words“) that Dave turned me onto a long time back. It seems appropriate to me that the story ended up in a journal with a photography emphasis, and I’m thrilled it’s there.

Please help them out by subscribing here or by checking your local Barnes & Noble. Unless you’re in Topeka in which case I think my parents already bought them all. See, that’s how much I care. I told my parents, and they don’t even know where I live.*

*That’s probably not true.

Comment / Posted in Fiction, Journals, Owls

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *