Hix Eros is an occasional reviews outburst co-produced with Hi Zero. It’s edited by me (Jo W) & Joe Luna (see Hi Zero), with assistance from Jordan Savage and Robbie Dawson (see Robbie’s design site). We focus on political and experimental poetry being written now. We’ve had six issues so far, available as free PDF or cheap (and sometimes free) Kindle ebooks.
There are usually many more poetry titles deserving of responses than there are responders. Hopefully Hix is a place where lots of different styles of response can rub shoulders: about books or individual poems, short or long responses, journaly or ziney, scholarly or lay, painstaking or impromptu, philological or from the gut, academic or relaxademic. If you fancy being involved, get in touch (firstname.lastname@example.org). Scroll down for some formatting guidelines. Any Hix-related stuff will also get tweeted here.
Issue #1: PDF
Issue #4 (JH Prynne special): PDF or paperback (see below)
Issue #4 (a collection of essays on JH Prynne) is also now available in print! Contact email@example.com or firstname.lastname@example.org, or pay via PayPal below:
Individual purchase, UK – £7.00
Individual purchase, Europe – €14.00
Individual purchase, Rest of World – $18.00
Contributor style guidelines
Reviewers! If you can manage it, it will save us time if you can keep to house style:
- If you want to cite a page number, do it like this: (p.23) or like this: (‘Poem Title,’ p.44)
- Or if you want to cite a line number: (23) or (‘Poem Title,’ 44)
- Short quotations go in double quotation marks
- Punctuation goes inside those quotation marks
- But punctuation goes outside of paretheses
- Longer quotations get indented as free-standing blocks of text (no quotation marks)
- Titles of poems, articles or chapters go in single quotation marks
- Titles of books including really long poems like Paradise Lost go in italics
- For scare quotes, use single quotation marks
- For short poem quotations, let’s go with a vertical bar to simulate line breaks: |
So for example:
In ‘howay,’ another itchy-soled pair have grown so alone that neither of their two is a “none” and only one of them makes it back up the mountain, as “coal train drives me high & i take the heat.” With no punctuation beyond a Hansel and Gretel spaghetti-trail of ampersands, and no form to contain memory’s seepings, dread reversals reshape postcard horizons. Where once there were “flowered shrines to nobodies we found in clumps & did not tell | & the man we saw crying on a stump nearby & did not tell,” now altitude and temperature have dropped in unison, so “i’m the nobody & you’re the man who shrined me | you sit on your stump and cry | now, go, as the trees to the lake | & you won’t come closer now no.”
To pick just three, over the course of one verse we see “five white moths,” feel “leaves brush | underfoot,” and watch “narrative emerge | from my breastplate” (p.38). The entire technique of Left Helicon seems intended to render the associative links that support these details void: a comic and repetitive tendency towards the banal replacing hysteria, the lyric speaker becomes a means of approaching sheer form as the repetitive operation of the cognitive functions ceases to become interesting.