Slake Review

Reviewed: Slake: Los Angeles, A City and its Stories

Issue: 2011, Issue 3: War and Peace

So what is Slake? A literary journal, a magazine, or a floppy edition of a book? The overall quality, from the content to the layout is superb, beyond anything I have looked at thusfar. According to Slake's website, Slake: Los Angeles is a “quarterly reader.” Perhaps the “reader” shines with such quality because, again according to the website, Slake: Los Angeles was “cofounded by former L.A. Weekly editors Joe Donnelly and Laurie Ochoa, is devoted to the endangered art of deeply reported narrative journalism and the kind of polished essay, memoir, fiction, poetry, and profile writing that is disappearing in a world of instant takes and unfiltered opinion.” Fortunately, the copy I procured at The Last Bookstore was a 2011 edition (I didn't realize it at the time), so my reading is definitely not bound to the whims of the ever-dissapearing web-machinated present. I'm four years behind.

On the other hand, and unfortunately, it seems that Slake: Los Angeles no longer exists, so my being four years behind is actually of consequence. In the time since the 2011 issue was published, the founders of Slake ran out of money and were forced to turn to Kickstarter to raise funds for their next issue. They raised the money for the subsequent issue, but after that no sign of a follow up issue of Slake seems to exist.

That's a shame, because Slake is a beautiful magazine. The stories and poems are introduced with aesthetically pleasing collage or print abstracts, with each title swirling or jutting out of the abstract art. This gives the magazine a uniformity, even if its theme of “war and peace” is not always present. War and peace, by the way.... Why not just war? Titling your magazine “War and Peace” is like titling your magazine “Everything.” Maybe this is where University conferences get their ideas for titles and topics. On the other hand, maybe the title refers to Dostoevsky, in which case I am not worthy to offer additional comments.

The editors curated a strong bunch of stories, sticking mostly to tales that emerge from Los Angeles, though some works notably depart; take a wood-print graphic narrative about hurricane Katrina, which makes but one mention to Korea Town (“Survivors Guild, Book Two” by Matjames). The quality of this piece, however, done in a style reminiscent of early 20th century wood-cut novels, allows one to quickly forget that it doesn't thematically fit into the magazine. Like I said, though, most of the work is anchored to Los Angeles, which gives the magazine the feel that the magazine as a whole is arguing for legitimacy of the Los Angeles literary scene. Unfortunately, the magazine fizzled out, leaving other mags to continue to push for Los Angeles's textual relevancy.

Probably, the reason Slate fizzled is it tried to be live up to standards that are unrealistic. Yes, literary fiction, memoirs, and artistic photography made or created by great artists and writers deserves a large format, beautifully executed slab of glossy paper, but the cost of making such a magazine versus the inevitably tiny audience seems like a fool's errand. It's like making a film about a Richard Ford story with a 2 billion dollar budget, it's just not prudent. It's almost obscene when you think about it. In the end, good text, I mean really good writing and stories (such as the ones that appear in this issue) are text! They don't need to be delivered in a gold box, printed on rare silk. If stories are good they can and should be offered in an aesthetic that mirrors the humble nature of printed language. We are using such a simple form to create such astounding beauty, that by trying to gloss things up seems like treachery, like a sell out.

That's not to say I felt like Slake was “selling out.” I'm just trying to pinpoint the lesson we can learn from Slake's demise.

Anyhow, the list of contributor's to this issue was overwhelming in its breadth and the scope of the writer's, artists, and photographers abilities and resumes. Though the fiction stays predominantly in the realm of psychological realism, there are notable experiments in form, such as a multi-focalizer story that tracks personalities, shops, and interiority in Silver Lake (“Gotterdammeringue” by Paul Sbrizzi). There's also a fine line between fiction and memoir in the magazine, as though the editors consciously chose prose that evokes a concrete version of our reality. This sort of body of work, one rooted in “reality,” feels a bit old-fashioned, something that perhaps stemmed from the editors' prior work on the L.A. Weekly, and here we might locate another reason why this magazine is a bit of a relic.

The word “slake” means to “quench or satisfy one's thirst.” In the end Slake was amazing at what it did, but no one is thirsty for that kind of juice anymore. R.I.P.

Content: Medium length fiction and memoirs, and sometimes mixes of both compete with photography, art, and poetry in this issue. Overwhelmingly, the pieces are naturalistic ruminations about Los Angeles lives and lifestyles.

Quality: In terms of execution, A+. However, if you judge quality by risk, then give this magazine a C-.

Submissions: Judging by the contributor's list, even if Slake was still around, they would probably operate on a “don't call us, we'll call you” policy.

X-factor: I should have looked at the date before I bought this magazine. Lesson learned.

Score(on a scale of 1-11): 9. Seriously, one of the finest “readers” I've seen.

Other info:

Slake: Los Angeles

Published by Slake Media L.L.C.

slake.la

Founding Editors: Joe Donnelly and Laurie Ochoa