roller derby

Kill Your Darlings: Issue One

admin — Mon, 26 Apr 2010 16:01:00 +0000

Kill Your Darlings has a lot to live up to. In its inaugural issue its editor, Affirm Press’ Rebecca Starford, says the journal’s mission is to "reinvigorate and re-energise" Australia’s literary scene. She quotes editor Rob Spillman as saying that most journals are "good for you, but they taste awful." Kill Your Darlings intends to redress this—to shake up the medium and "publish literature that bites back." A big, bold statement.

First let me say that I love the title of this attractive new journal. It is an apt reference to the advice that writers are so often given. The bit you love the most is the bit that has to go. Editing your own work is a ruthless business, and cutting your ‘baby’ up can feel like murder. So, Kill Your Darlings is a perfect choice of title that is edgy and attention grabbing, and therefore sure to help with marketing. Moreover, the cover design is striking, the layout clean and readable, and the standard of editing (so often lacking these days) is high. In short, it’s a pleasure to curl up on the couch with.

The journal opens with Gideon Haigh’s biting (yes, they’ve succeeded there) assessment of the current state of reviewing. I suspect some may view this essay as deliberately provocative, but he makes some valid points about what he describes as the generally "lacklustre" fare on offer characterised by "its sheer dullness and inexpertise." He attributes much of the problem to timid reviewers who fear future retribution when their own work comes up for review, but also to newspapers and magazines who pay poorly (if at all) for reviews and begrudge the space they occupy. The critique has already sparked debate, which can only be a good thing.

On finishing reading this essay I, of course, turned straight to the review section at the back to see how Kill Your Darlings' measured up. There are two brief reviews, which surely for their length alone would paradoxically be lambasted under Haigh’s criteria (he quotes George Orwell’s opinion that 1000 words should be the "bare minimum" for any worthwhile review). Nevertheless, snappy reviews do serve a purpose and it’s good to see them included here alongside two much longer reviews. Starford’s consideration of Mary Gaitskill’s Don’t Cry certainly falls within Orwell’s ballpark, and makes a serious attempt to examine this latest offering within the broader context of her body of work. And there’s a lengthy review of The Wire, which Anthony Morris claims is "the best television drama series ever made." (I’m not convinced.)

But back to the ‘commentary’ section. I found Tracy Crisp’s reflective story about the elusive nature of inspiration and the difficulty in trying to write and mother simultaneously compelling. How to be the kind of writer she wants to be and the kind of mother is a conundrum to which I can relate. Then there’s Clementine Ford’s wryly amusing article on internet dating, and Paul Mitchell’s moving and funny account of guiltily bonding with his tweenage daughter over shopping despite his anti-consumerist principles.

It’s great to see an article by former Canberran Justin Heazlewood (aka The Bedroom Philosopher) featured. His commentary on the death of the album and his dad-like resistance to it makes for entertaining reading. The desire for musos to hold their own album in their hands (and not just on their iPod) is surely one to which many authors can relate (the desire for a beautiful object not just a file on an eReader). Ultimately, though, resistance will surely prove futile.

The only disappointment was Georgia Gowing’s commentary on the derby phenomenon. As a regular roller derby-goer I wanted more. For me, it didn’t entirely capture the electric energy and drama of a derby match and, other than a few interesting soundbites from the girls themselves, it failed to offer any fresh insights. Perhaps delving into links to punk culture and third wave feminism might have afforded it greater depth.

The fiction section includes seven short stories of which Patrick Cullen’s is the standout. "Carver’s Unkempt Lawn" imagines a meeting between four famous American writers in the home of Tess Gallagher and Raymond Carver, who is dying. The subtle elegance of this beautifully crafted story had me captivated. I also admired "Clinching" by Emmett Stinson, which throws us into the futile struggle of an emotionally disconnected couple—characters who leap boldly and vividly from the page. And then there’s Chris Womersley’s "Theories of Relativity," which opens with an arresting first line and just gets better from there. It is an unsettling tale of a dysfunctional family seen through the eyes of its youngest child who doesn’t discover the shocking inner world of his family until his twenty-first year. Womersley reveals the story in layers, masterfully leading us towards the final brutal punch. I haven’t read his first novel, The Low Road, which won the 2008 Ned Kelly Award for Best First Fiction, but I’ll certainly be seeking it out now.

I must confess that I was initially skeptical about whether Kill Your Darlings could live up to its own hype. Well, dear Reader, I was wrong to have doubted. Issue one is a damn fine read. I look forward to seeing what the next one brings.

Cross-posted from Overland

Written by: Irma Gold, April 26th 2010

Hard Knocks: Rolling with the Derby Girls

admin — Mon, 25 Jan 2010 17:03:00 +0000

By Shelley Calton

Kehrer

Shelly Calton’s Hard Knocks: Rolling with the Derby Girls is a book of photographs that illustrates everything I love about black and white photography; the smoky interplay of light and dark, negative space and shadow. These gritty, noir-ish photos of the Houston Roller Derby are captivating, but sadly the book in its entirely lacked the oomph I was hoping for.

I’ve seen a lot of roller derby. I’ve witnessed broken bones and chipped teeth and a lot of other gruesome casualties of this super competitive, sometimes vicious sport, but the biggest problem with Calton’s photographs is that we only get hints of the most infamous aspect of the game. Perhaps she intentionally tried to shy away from the brutality, blood, sweat, and tears, but what the hell for?

Hard Knocks’ foreword was written by Tracy Xavia Karner, Associate Professor of Sociology and Director of Visual Studies and at the University of Houston. According to Karner, the women of Houston’s roller derby “confront, disrupt, and ultimately subvert gender expectations,” but you wouldn’t know that based on Calton’s work, which greatly focuses on the look of the derby girls and not what they do in the rink. There are plenty of shots of fishnet stockings, garter belts, perfectly coiffed hair, expertly applied makeup, intricate tattoos, and awesome roller derby girl style, about as many as there are of the girls cheering each other on, hugging, smiling, and getting lost in other feel good moments.

But—and there’s a point here—this is roller derby, for fuck’s sake. Hard Knocks features very little of the action that makes the sport so unique and interesting. Sure, I’m willing to admit that many (men, in particular) find roller derby alluring because of that fact that it features foxy, confident women looking good and being aggressive as hell, but let’s not forget that it’s a sport, goddamn it. Omitting the grit is like taking photographs of a football game without featuring the injuries, the sacks, and the mid-air collisions.

It’s not all bad, of course. The portraits of the women on Houston’s team featured at the beginning of the book are fascinating. These women seem so harsh and strong and prepared to kick ass, while also managing to appear completely feminine and soft. After all, none of these things are mutually exclusive and it all comes out in the rink, I just wish that it didn’t dissipate after a few pages of Calton’s book.

Written by: Tina Vasquez, January 25th 2010

Rollergirl: Totally True Tales from the Track

admin — Mon, 26 Feb 2007 17:58:00 +0000

By Melissa Joulwan

Touchstone

Rollergirl: Totally True Tales from the Track is a wonderfully weaved account of roller derby. The author, Melissa “Melicious” Joulwan, paints a complex tale of strength, teamwork, empowerment and politics that may remind you of a soap opera set in a junior high school. Joulwan gives the reader a first person account on how the league works and the bumps in the road that goes along. She gives us the history of the league, from its 1950s birth and exponential growth to its sharp decline after the '80s and its revival in the birth of the new century. From the new birth in Austin, TX the reader is treated to witnessing the metamorphoses of the league going from “a really good idea” to a national phenomenon.

Joulawn gives us a detailed account on the exponential popularity of flat track derby complete with skater profiles, numerical charts and amusing quotes from people she personally knows. The reader is taken through a turbulent, competitive journey of how the author leaves her dot-com executive position and moves with her husband to Austin where she discovers the sport.

Through her eyes we see the derby grow from a bunch of girls who don’t really know how to skate to a thriving local sport to a national frenzy in the span of five years. The reader is treated to witnessing the politics and power struggle between the skaters and the “She-EOs” and the eventual split from them that resulted in a new league under the philosophy “by the skaters, for the skaters.” This split also leads to the “She-EOs” decline, hilariously narrated as Joulawn describes the “She-EOs” fiasco climaxing in the aftermath of a Jell-O wrestling match, complete with lots of stickiness and hungry flies.

Rollergirl is really a book about power and less about roller derby. It’s about the power of casting off the materialist identity assigned to you by the capitalist ways of a patriarchal society and carving out a niche for yourself in an area that’s outside of that system. It’s about the politics of working with people - from the crowd to the lawyers and the leadership of the league. It’s about socialist organizational methods versus capitalist methods. Then there’s the power of marketing, the power of controlling your crowd and getting them to react the way you want them to. The message of the book is subliminal and clear: you can do anything.

Written by: Nicholas Johnson, February 26th 2007