This blog post has been languishing in my ‘drafts’ folder for 18 months or so now. I couldn’t work out what I was trying to say. I think it’s about time I published it though.
Over a year ago, I got an email from a distro with some critical feedback for one of my zines. The basic gist of it was that, although I made some interesting arguments, I made no attempt to “own” my ideas; instead, I prefaced everything with “I’m not sure about this” and “I’m still working this out“, and similarly cautious statements. This, he argued, took away any power that my words had. I hadn’t really considered that before, though as soon as I read the critique I knew that he was completely right. I thanked the distro owner for the feedback, but kind of forgot about it soon after.
Then, a few weeks later, I read a very critical review of the same zine, which also touched upon that critique, adding that it annoyed him how I kept referencing stuff instead of actually writing about it by making statements like “I could talk about…”, ”…I can’t write about [it] publicly…”, and “…maybe in a later issue…“.
(On reflection, I found the whole review overly-critical and nitpicky, and it upset me for the rest of the week – I’m too frightened to link to said review in case you all read it and think, “Ah yes, he’s so right, her zine is actually a load of rubbish! I’m never buying a copy again!“. Ack, I know I’m just being overly-sensitive. I guess I felt the review was tactless… and I’m the kind of person who knows that critical feedback is important, but when confronted with it experiences a knee-jerk negative emotional reaction. I’m working on that.)
Moan over… these comments got me thinking about how I so frequently doubt myself and make qualifying statements whenever I write/say anything that might be construed as vaguely debatable or controversial. Yes, whenever I write, I stop short of making any bold claims, hold myself back, stay safe – especially when writing about feminism, which is sadly still seen as something debatable and controversial (there’s a lot of hostility even between feminists - but that’s an entirely separate can of worms). I think it’s because I know so many feminists who are much more eloquent and well-informed on feminist theory than I am, and I’m so afraid of making a poor argument that will get torn apart. I’m afraid that people will laugh at my primitive attempts at a systematic argument, and I’m afraid that they will lose respect for me if my writing or my verbal contributions in debates are poor. At least if I preface everything I say with “I’m still working this out, I don’t really know what I believe“, then people may cut me some slack. Otherwise, I find myself unable to speak out at all.
I hadn’t considered how refusing to own my ideas removes any impact my voice may have, makes it more moderate, gentle, and inoffensive. How stereotypically ‘feminine’ of me! And why should I conform to the idea of how a woman “should” speak – cautiously and always open to being swayed by others? Why can’t I speak loudly and proudly, even if I don’t have everything worked out exactly to the last detail? I want to be able to say: fuck it. This is what I believe. This is what I want to do. I don’t care if you agree or not, and I don’t care if I’m wrong.
But I can’t. Even writing that feels uncomfortable for me.
Then again… maybe I’m being too hard on myself here. After all, I am unlearning an entire lifetime of enforced shyness and demureness (little girls shouldn’t be brash and arrogant, but dainty and sweet! Any obnoxious behaviour was punished and I was swiftly put back in my place, whereas my shyness/cuteness was often rewarded by the adults around me, even in my late teens; I have memories of frequently being called “a little lady“). Perhaps it’s ok to be cautious at first, as I take steps towards being stronger and more confident?
*sigh* This blog post doesn’t have a neat conclusion, I’m afraid. I’m just having a bit of a ramble really.
As we’re well into our horrid British winter, I thought a review of this zine seemed rather apt! This issue is a short but sweet zine, listing 27 tips to help you survive the long winter months, particularly focusing on how to survive SAD (Seasonal Affection Disorder). Some of the things Maranda suggests include knitting your own scarf, burn scented candles, write letters, go for a long walk, and build a blanket fort! I found many of the tips suggested (e.g. setting yourself small goals such as going outside every day) really helpful, as I suffer from SAD and can find the winter really difficult to get through too. Highly recommended.
A half-sized perzine from the US, Edgy #11 contains an interesting combination of serious contemplative content and fun, silly stuff. Star Blue includes her thoughts on wanting to be a larger than life character, wanting to make her own reality, aiming towards bodily perfection and being happy with her body, her experiences of racism as a white mexican girl, and some well-written poetry. There’s also some fun comics on dreams of kissing Owen Wilson, adventures at her job in Box Office Video, and thrifty summer fashion, as well as written pieces on male celebrity crushes, cute things her boyfriend does that she loves, and an awesome rap about Angelina Jolie – “angelina – tougher than xena – on the cover of a magazina“! Some people will undoubtedly enjoy the variety, but personally I felt that by jamming the serious stuff and fun stuff together in one zine, it kinda detracted from both aspects, making the zine feel disjointed and lacking impact. I would’ve preferred one or the other, as both the fun content and the serious content was enjoyable in itself! But that’s just my personal preference. On the plus side, everything is well-written, with an attractive layout and a colour cover (I love colour covers!).
The fifth issue of Amber’s boredom-busting compzine, Fight Boredom with Girl Love is my favourite yet. In the intro, Amber explains that this zine has a strong focus on riot grrrl, as jealousy and girl-hate was a frequently discussed topic among riot grrrls. As well as some brief background info on the riot grrrl movement, the zine includes discussions on female jealousy and competitiveness, the emerging culture of women hating each other instead of supporting each other, internalized sexism, reclaiming sexist language, the problem with rape jokes, feminism in the 90s sitcom “Roseanne”, and ways to deal with jealousy. There are also a few pages of thoughts on riot grrrl and the supposed revival from a number of well-known zinesters including Ciara Xyerra, Maranda Elizabeth, and Ocean Capewell. The zine is presented in Amber’s signature typewritten and cut-and-paste visual style, which is gorgeous to look at. Near the end, Amber features the usual zine reviews, some feminist book recommendations, and the inspirational original riot grrrl manifesto (
The thing I love about this zine is how Clementine’s writing develops and improves with every issue. I’ve been reading this zine since #4, and the content just gets better and better. Issue 17 is the latest in the zine series, and is by far my favourite issue of LSOC! Clementine describes this zine as “a zine about making changes, making choices and figuring out who i am and what i want”, which I think sums it up pretty well! She writes about dealing with relationship problems, overcoming alcoholism and being sober, how the meaning of love has changed for her recently, her bisexuality, violence against women, and grrrl zines. My favourite piece was her fascinating discussion on psychiatric medication, where Clementine argues, very respectfully, that we should seek political answers to our problems rather than chemical answers. I gotta say, this really rings true for me. These ideas of community, mutual support, friendship and self-love seem to obvious, yet the medical authorities always go for the “easy” option – drugging us up. It’s something I think about a lot, as a medicated depressive who has to pay for every month’s lot of pills. You hear all these stories of people with depression where they say things like: ”I have a great car, a great boyfriend, a great job, lots of money, lots of stuff… so why aren’t I happy?” Maybe there is a chemical cause, who knows. Or maybe we’re allowing captialism to define happiness and contentment for us, when in fact they’ve got it all wrong. I think Clementine’s onto something when she argues that symptoms of depression are actually “symptoms of living in a soul-denying profit-driven capitalist racist misogynistic [society]“. She writes in such a powerful and inspiring way, and it really makes you think about these issues in a way you may not have considered before.
