Perzine/chapbook, Clara Lou, hagcollective.tumblr.com, $3
Green is a small little zine about a green room as it appears in literature and in the author’s past. The zine itself is green, as you would imagine. It combines disparate, quirky images existing around the focus of the zine, the text, in a typewriter’s font. It is held together by a single bobby-pin placed along the spine so as you get fur- ther through the zine the weight of what has been read skews the pages that are left. By the last page you have to hold the whole thing tightly in your hands so it doesn’t fall apart. If that isn’t a metaphor for my life, I don’t know what is.
It takes a special kind of author to combine bits about her childhood room with the phrase “primordial snot” all amongst very different, imagery-driven iterations of four green walls. The piece is a sort of essay about whatever you’d like it to be about, namely love and nighttime and the simply adorned physical spaces in which we experience very complex and fracturing emotions. The zine is published out of Hag Collective, a “post post femi- nist curatorial performance and poetics project” described by the authors as inap- propriately intimate and narcissistic: a body that does not end at skin. All true. Pick up this zine if you spend any time at all thinking about death or the sea, or about how the mythology around what your relationship usurps the image of what it really is. (CJ Blennerhassett)