Monday, April 1, 2024

David Mitchell : The Black Light Engine Room Magazine/02

The Black Light Engine Room Magazine/02
The Black Light Engine Room Press, July 2023

 

 

 

Talk to any poet about small press magazines, and they will almost certainly express a forlorn lamenting of the demise of one or more, particularly great small magazines that they mourn the passing of. I have three such magazines and one lost publisher that all burned brightly for me and faded too soon. I don't mean the sort of magazines that appear for just a year or two (great as they are) but magazines that went on long enough for writers to think they'd always be there. Inevitably, all small magazines and presses eventually announce that the work, cost, effort, lack of subscriptions and burden of non-artistic endeavours have brought a regrettable end.

Black Light Engine Room Magazine from Middlesborough's vibrant and underrated poetry scene was one such magazine for me. A colossal a4 multi-paged quarterly that featured an obscene amount of poets on its stapled, crowded double pages. The artwork for most covers displayed vibrant, colourful images from the minds of artists like Jane Burn and Mary Lou Springfield.

I always loved the journey that was sprawling and made across an uneven terrain. Each issue was an adventure that always brought my attention to new poets. I also had the pride of occasionally appearing alongside heroes of my youth and discovering a community of contemporary poets who have subsequently published chapbooks, full collections, novellas, novels and impossibly overpriced works of academia. 

BLER ran for many issues in the same colourful, experimental, eclectic format, with every issue seeming to outdo its predecessor. Like all good small presses, BLER also began to publish small shared chapbooks, bigger shared chapbooks, single-author chapbooks, anthologies and eventually full collections. And then, as quickly as the Black Light Engine Room's flagship magazine ascended the literary scene and Poetry Library shelves, BLER magazine was gone.

Today, however, a new, glossier, more polished magazine landed on my welcome mat. It was BLER reborn.


The first notable difference was that instead of a presumably expensive and lavish coloured a4 cover, BLER .2 has a still striking yet more modest a5. The artwork by Jane Burn is as distinctive and attractive as ever. The magazine identifies as an anthology on the inside cover and a magazine on the front cover. As both definitions are essentially 'a published collection of poems/writing/pictures,' it is a minor detail. The collection is the size of a poetry collection and fits easily on my bookshelf. The magazine's respected editor, Morbid P.A. told me, 'Issue two of the new BLER is a poetry anthology, but is also part of a series. No.1 was a nonfiction issue. Future editions will focus on short prose, longer prose and then poetry again." 

I started the 'anthol-ozine' with a slight excitement, knowing that somewhere within these pages, I would find something that resonated from the craft of the poets. This collection begins with each poet's fifty-word biography, a bold editorial choice as many people prefer to experience the poem before exploring a poet's accolades, pushcart nominations or previous publication. I think the reader can skip a bio if they feel it alters the reading experience. I did this. I was only on page 13 when I was introduced to Leslie Ingram's poetry for the first time and fell in awe.

Imagine you have a kangaroo's tail
And rest it on the floor

It will lift the tension from your knees.

These are from a sequence that explores how imagination and play enable children to navigate the world around them during times of external crisis.

Rob Walton's wry work demonstrates the diversity of style and tone in BLER.

On my days off I attempt to try to give
road kill the kiss of life.

It was worth the price to discover JB Seabright's No Man's Land, a reflection on ageing that acknowledges an indebtedness to T S Eliot's Wasteland but is playful, unpretentious and moving.

Unravelled. Stripped back thrown
Onto the slag heap. A wasteland of desire and memory
Energy & (relevance)

All of the poets deserve a mention, but I particularly enjoyed Laura Zaino's The Year in Liquids and Other Wet Things.

dew
Apple cider
pumpkin spice lattes
fog

Kevin Brown, Charlotte Fong, Gram Joel Davis, Alison Jones, Graham Clifford and Lynn Valentine all present work that charms and chills in equal measure as they explore a plethora of themes. 

There are eleven poets distributed over 66 pages. Most of the poets were new to me, and the opportunity to read five or six poems by each one allowed me a greater opportunity to appreciate and reflect on their work. Morbid, as ever, displays an editor’s knack for noticing the finer details that can be so easily missed. This high-quality magazine will make a valuable companion piece to future BLER issues of creative fiction and nonfiction. Eight pounds an issue is a fair expenditure for something worthy, worthwhile and rewarding.  


The reader here sees ten poets with distinct styles; the content's eclectic nature means there is a great deal of variation in the voices. The biographies I mentioned earlier list magazines and small publishers that have also published the poets. This is a valuable resource for any poet. This new BLER made me realise that editors like Morbid PA are poetry connoisseurs. They receive, read, evaluate and support poets, and we poets should value their work more.The old BLER was a little more idealistic and punk-spirited. It has moved on, as has its editor and many of its poets.

We, the also-ran poets, the aspiring poets and the accomplished poets, need to promote the idea of supporting at least one magazine by subscribing. Poets, writers, small presses and small press magazines are all symbiotic. In difficult times like these, we have to think not about what small presses can do for us, but what we can do for small presses.

It is great to know that BLER is back.

Issue one can be obtained, and issue two is available now for £8.00. 

 

 




David Mitchell reviews as David Rudd-Mitchell and writes as D Rudd-Mitchell. He has reviewed for Sabotage, London Grip and Wasafiri. His poetry has appeared in magazines, anthologies and been broadcast on BBC County radio. His first novella was published by the Plastic Brain Press in 2021.