Look/Listen

The vinyl LP. The VHS tape. The ‘zine. All are media that have been killed and buried, and all have thrust a bony hand back up through the soil of the grave to remind us they’re not quite dead yet.

Do you remember ‘zines? Do you know what they are? ‘Zine is short for magazine, and ‘zines were magazines about any number of subjects, cheaply made, self-published, usually black-and-white, and often traded between their creators. The first ‘zines were sci-fi fanzines, dating all the way back to before WW2. Later, a wave of ‘zines about the burgeoning world of underground punk music rose up in the ‘70s.

But it was the ‘80s when ‘zines had their heyday. ‘Zines like Cometbus (a guy relentlessly traveling the country by bus and writing a romantic travelogue), Poppin’ Zits (a mishmash of diaristic screeds), Murder Can Be Fun (salacious tales of true crime), Dishwasher (a guy’s chronicle of washing dishes in all 50 states), Duplex Planet (punchy and plangent interviews with nursing home residents), Maximum Rock ‘N’ Roll (punk and related genres—and at 34 years old, still being published), and Rollerderby (rock, politics, and personal opinions from Lisa Crystal Carver, more popularly known as Lisa Suckdog) got sufficiently popular to be found at discerning record and book stores across the nation.

One of the most popular ‘zines, Factsheet Five, was a thick review of other ‘zines, printing their addresses so you could request copies or arrange for trading. St. Louis’ contribution was Jet Lag, a punk/New Wave fanzine that included reviews from L/L scribe Thomas Crone, as well as a young feller named Jeff Tweedy, who, after interviewing Soul Asylum for the ‘zine, went on to alt-rock glory.

Then came the ‘90s, and the juggernaut of the Internet (cue the funereal organ music). Before you could say aol.com, blogs rose up, and presented a cheaper and more easily made and distributed alternative to ‘zines. Like so many vinyl albums, cassettes, silent films, Betamax players, and papyrus scrolls, ‘zines became obsolete overnight.

But with obsolescence, comes nostalgia; with nostalgia, comes charm; with charm, comes Masha Serdyukova, a student at Washington University’s George Warren Brown School of Social Work. The charming and industrious Serdyukova (who also goes by “Masha NoNeedForLastName”) is a lover of ‘zines and a former volunteer at the Papercut Zine Library in the Boston area. When she heard that Black Bear Bakery, CAMP, and a short-lived ‘zine lending library at WebsterUniversity called React all wanted to dump their old piles of ‘zines, Serdyukova stepped in and saved the day.

She has created the Samizdat Zine Library, a collection of more than 2,500 ‘zines dating from the early ‘90s through today. Serdyukova and collaborator Sean Arnold have painstakingly separated the massive collection of ‘zines into about two dozen categories, including political, anarchist, historical, comics, personal, DIY, poetry and literature, art, sex and gender, feminism, health, environment and animals, food, travel, media, activism, “LBOE” (little bit of everything), race, prison, anti-capitalism, comics, foreign language, religion, and ‘zines about ‘zines.

The great news is that you can peruse this massive collection, this Saturday from noon to 6 p.m., in an annex next to The Archive book shop on Cherokee Street, again next Saturday, July 30, and possibly into the future.

Serdyukova, Arnold, and friends have created a fun array of things to read and do in the space—you’ll find a big bucket of ‘zines for sale in $2 grab-bags, a table with supplies to make a collaborative community ‘zine, a “Zinesters’ Picks” area of favorite ‘zines, art and trinkets for sale, snacks and drinks, and several walls of ‘zines, ‘zines, ‘zines. You can get lost for hours reading these personal, handmade, creative labors of love.

Still, you’re reading this article on the Internet, and in the Internet age, ‘zines may seem more quaint than vital.

“I’ve led workshops with young people about ‘zine-making,” says Serdyukova, “and I notice they’ve put so much faith in the Internet and electronic media, they don’t see the benefit of having something tangible. They also don’t see the benefit of being anonymous. You can say things you’ve never said before, that can really touch others. That anonymity is being lost in the age of Facebook and Twitter.”
 

“One of the things we tried to do by making this ‘zine library is create a place where people can meet each other,” added Arnold, “while the Internet can be an alienating experience.”

Many ‘zines are also handwritten and hand-drawn, Serdyukova pointed out, and that makes them more personal still. Creating a cheaply made ‘zine often meant late nights at Kinko’s, cutting and pasting in a process that, in the age of electronic layout programs, seems as antiquated as the Gutenberg press. (Scissors and glue are also a lot more fun to use than computers, IMHO.) And most blogs look pretty much the same, whereas the layout and look of each ‘zine is a crapshoot and a surprise.

In the same way that a Kindle cannot replace the romance of reading a real book, songs purchased individually from iTunes cannot replace the statement of a cohesive album, and a collection of emails is no substitute for a stack of handwritten letters, a blog is missing a certain human touch that is present in a ‘zine.

Samizdat is looking for donations of more ‘zines, and for some volunteer help. Reach them at www.samizdatzinelibrary.blogspot.com. And for a great look back at the ‘zines that cracked open the heads of the young and free-spirited, check out zinewiki.com.