#3: 1920s Berlin

 

ID: Collage in tones of brown and cream. Text reads "Return to Happiness" around an image of four people in 1920s costume miming a game of tennis. Central image framed by borders of b&w stripes, sheet music, and ripped paper. End ID. 

Yet again I’ve assigned myself a topic so rich that it’s impossible for me to begin to do it justice. The three novels I’ve chosen are nonetheless my attempt to summarize the tapestry of experience which continues to make this time and place so enthralling: self exploration, queerness, love, the nightlife, and, most importantly, fighting fascism.

The illustrations for this issue were taken in the twenties by famed Bauhauslers Josef Albers (noted square lover) and Herbert Bayer (noted uppercase hater). Two endless sets of stairs - where do they lead to, or from? And will I be copyright claimed for using them?

Content Notes: This issue contains mild reference to suicidality and political repression. 

“Hotel Staircase, Geneva” Josef Albers, gelatin silver prints (1929/32) via MoMA. ID: two side by side b&w high contrast images of decorative indoor staircases.

 1. Madonna in a Fur Coat (1943) by Sabahattin Ali

“But a dark thought still haunted me – that this stillness might, in the end, be more damaging than fearful hesitation. That it might stall what was alive between us, until it was as cold as stone: with every step not taken, we would be taking one step further apart from each other” (108).

A painful novel of dissolution and yearning. Sent from Türkiye to Berlin to learn his father's business, our narrator instead finds himself absorbed by the city's art scene, and particularly by the beautiful Maria, with whose self-portrait he becomes obsessed. One of the things which most attracts me about historical novels is their ability to provide a window into lives, emotional and otherwise, which are surprisingly similar to our own. This is a book of crushing heartbreak which feels entirely real, whether you've experienced the like or not. The novel is the last of three by an author whose dedication to social realism in fiction and nonfiction alike had him repeatedly censored and imprisoned by the Turkish government. 

2. Goodbye to Berlin (1939) by Christopher Isherwood

“‘You queer too, hey?’ demanded the little American, turning suddenly on me.
‘Yes,’ I said, ‘very queer indeed’” (234).

Isherwood's writing and the later works based upon it have come to define out image of 1920s Berlin to an extent which is probably unhelpful, but certainly not entirely inaccurate. Like his eponymous titular character, Isherwood was a bisexual English writer who moved to Berlin in the 20s was swiftly absorbed into its nightlife. Intended originally as part of a larger epic, the series of stories that make up this 'novel' are a window into a very specific kind of experience, one which is both delightfully queer and disarmingly self-absorbed. Though Isherwood, ten years in retrospect, writes of his subject matter with sharp analysis, his own position, separate and able to simply flee, only really became acknowledged in later adaptations. Nonetheless when it comes to fiction about late twenties Berlin this is a must-read for a reason.

3. Steppenwolf (1927) by Herman Hesse

“Had I not been enough of an outsider, mad enough, for years? And yet, deep down inside me, I fully understood this summons, this invitation to go mad, to jettison all reason, inhibition and bourgeois respectability, and to surrender myself to the fluctuating, anarchic world of the soul, of the imagination” (77).

I'm being slightly false by putting this on the list as the city in which its set is never specified. But I needed something actually written in German in the 1920s and I sincerely think that this is one of the best books ever written. Haranguing himself over his depression, chronic pain, and suicidality, the middle aged protagonist undergoes a series of increasingly strange experiences which force him to come to terms with himself in the deepest of senses. This book is a cry in favour of self-liberation, political activism, hope, and polyamorous queer orgies which has made a tangible improvement on my life - perhaps it could on yours too.  

“Iron Winding Stair” Herbert Bayer, gelatin silver print (1928) via MoMA. ID: b&w high contrast photo of a winding metal outdoor flight of stairs. End ID. 

 FINIS.

 

#2: Christmas Horror

ID: A collage in red, brown, and shades of grey. The central image is a black and white closeup photo of the head & neck of two reindeer, with a third sticking its nose in from the side. Star shapes with four points have been cut out and place over the forehead of each reindeer. Smaller silver ten-point stars are scattered around. Cutout letters atop this image read "it was blood that made the robin red." The edge of the image is framed by thin red lines radiating outwards. END ID.

     If you're anything like me, you spend every Christmas Eve reading Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol and entertaining a vague yearning for more distinctly Christmassy tales of terror which fate has so far hidden from you. Though the 'ghost story for Christmas' tradition is an old and auspicious one, the actual canon of horror stories set at Christmas is far smaller. Nonetheless a bit of digging can open a window into some good stuff in that vein which can allow you to give poor Tiny Tim a rest once in a while on your Christmas rotation. Here I present to you some of my favourite recent discoveries; I hope you enjoy them, and inform me of any which I have missed.

 Content Notes: While this zine itself discusses nothing in detail, some of these stories, particularly the more recent ones, contain disturbing elements and I highly recommend checking trigger warnings online or dming me if you can’t find any. Hell House in particular contains a platter of triggering topics, particularly in relation to Catholicism, blood, & depictions of sexual assault.

Charles Dana Gibson, “A Christmas Fantasy” (1900).

ID: Illustration in black & white of a small white boy in black clothes leaning as though cold against a wooden packing crate marked "fragile."  Around him swirl images of cakes, toys, turkeys, and a bicycle. END ID.

  

1. Dead of Night 1×01 The Exorcism (1972)

"I think we should be concentrating on how to be socialist.. and rich"

What!? Can it be!? Indeed it is: this is a marvellous piece of made-for-TV Marxist Christmas horror. Four upper class dilettantes gather in a cosy little cottage for a Christmas feast that turns out decidedly uncheery. There's blood in the wine, mysterious power cuts, corpses popping up here and there. Surely this has nothing to do with an injustice committed in the house years ago… 

 

2. The Legend of Hell House dir. John Hough (1973)

"Drug addiction, alcoholism, sadism, bestiality, mutilation, murder, vampirism, necrophilia, cannibalism, not to mention a gamut of sexual goodies. Shall I go on?"

If your idea of Christmastime is scaring yourself shitless with a visually stunning film about The Haunting of Hill House on ghostly steroids this movie was made for you. It has everything: doubtful scientists, devout Catholics, glorious synth music by Delia Derbyshire, bright red blood in technicolor, sex obsessed ghosts, evil cats, traumatised child prodigies, seventies computers, and a truly indescribable ending. I think this is my favourite of the list. It has a lot to love, but its marvellous technicolor cinematography truly takes the cake. And the whole thing takes place during Christmas!

 

3. Christmas Meeting by Rosemary Timperley (1951)

"My family says there's no point in my writing, that I'm too young. But I don't feel young. Sometimes I feel like an old man, with too much to do before he dies."

A (very) short and bittersweet ghost story about a middle aged woman and the strange young man who stumbles into her living room one lonely Christmas. Infused with a distinctly vintage festive atmosphere, and the young intruder has quite a queer manner about him..

 

4. The Stone That Liked Company by A. L. Rowse (1945)

"It would seem that that stone had a hunger for what was young and innocent."

One Christmas night a set of university lecturers gather by candlelight to celebrate the season with the traditional ghostly tale. What follows is a story of deeply human proportion which is perhaps more harrowing for its tragedy than its strange series of mystical occurrences — though its got those by the dozen too. A chronically ill young musician sent to the countryside for his health gets far more than he bargained for when his amateur archaeology leads him to a mysterious standing stone which the locals are strangely remiss to discuss. Though the events of the main story happen at an unknown season, the distinctly festive frame story and compellingly short length get it onto this list with ease. 

 

5. The Woman in Black by Susan Hill (1983) 

"I was trying to suppress my mounting unease, to hold back the rising flood of memory."

Though this novel can be found in the Vintage Classics children's series I assure you it's a real spine chiller. Opening on Christmas Eve, we are thrown into the horrible reminisces of a solicitor who spent a night in a haunted mansion and certainly won't be forgetting it anytime soon. Hill writes in a pseudo-Victorian style which makes her treatment of the PTSD faced by her narrator particularly interesting. As someone with the condition myself, the narrator's distress at the casual telling of Christmas ghost stories felt real and made the frame story particularly relatable, despite the fact that I have not myself been terrorised by a spirit from another realm. It's the perfect length for sitting down with on Christmas Eve and being thoroughly harrowed. 

 

Hans Tegner, “She Lighted a New Match” (1900).

ID: Black & white illustration of a white girl in a dark cloak sat on a snowy street with her hands in a prayer position. Next to her hovers a vision of a christmas tree surrounded by dancing children. END ID.  

 

NB: The text in the cover illustration refers to a Christmas folktale I heard as a young lad, in which the robin's breast becomes red from the blood of Christ when it attempts to remove a thorn from his dying head. The holiday certainly has some dark lore of its own. 

FINIS 

#1: Some Interesting Angels

ID: scan of a paper collage in yellow, blue, green, orange, brown, and white tones. diagonal text down the centre reads "angels" in a variety of fonts, layered over large spiky cardboard cutouts. around the text are pictures of glass eyes and illustrated gemstones. END ID. 

In my weakened state at this particularly stressful time of year, where both jacarandas and examinations have emerged in full force, i feel entirely unable to give the immensely interesting topic that is the angel its due analysis. Just the same, it’s my pal Viktor’s birthday, and there’s no better way I can think of to honour seraph than to do a bit of evangelising about slightly obscure angelic representations. Thus emerges this, the first issue of what I hope, despite my faults, will be a continuing if irregular zine. I hope you enjoy it.  

Content Notes: examination of christian themes and imagery, references to death.  

 

ID: an engraving depicting a group of men kneeling in positions of prayer amidst a wooded area. in the sky a winged, humanoid angel appears from a burst of light and clouds. END ID. 

 

1.  "No Such Person" (19??), Dorothy K. Haynes.

   The now-familiar figure of the ruffled, frightening angel we see in this short story is made particularly interesting by its publication date, in the mid twentieth century. It's an accomplished little piece, atmospheric and haunting with a touch of angelic body horror, all of which make it very pleasant to spend some time with. Dorothy K. Haynes is a criminally underrated writer of weird fiction who produced some truly original concepts influenced by her life in rural Scotland, and this story is a lovely example of her ability to combine ordinary social displeasure with the more overt fear of a mythical being.

2. "Here Comes Mr. Jordan" (1941).

   A whimsical movie starring two of my favourite underrated actors, Claude Rains and Edward Everett Horton, which probably makes me quite biased towards it. In this tale, based on a play, a young boxer is snatched up to heaven before his time by a comedically inefficient but nonetheless persistent junior angel. The following debacle involves body swapping, terrible saxophone playing, and a delicious dose of subtle heresy. Even heavenly messengers, as it turns out, have the occasional admin issue. In a quite bizarre turn of events there was a sequel produced six years later starring Rita Hayworth as the Greek muse Terpsichore, a truly baffling combination of mythologies which few dare to attempt – and which I have not yet been brave enough to watch.

3. The Hitch-Hiker (The Twilight Zone 1×16) (1960).

   Please trust me and watch this before reading the review as it’s much better without spoilers… Classifying the titular hitchhiker as an angel is perhaps a bit presumptuous, considering he is generally defined instead as a 'personification of death,' but considering he's engaging in heavenly admin duties I think he fits the bill. In that case he's particularly interesting because he defies general depictions of angels by being a. ordinary, rumpled, and dull, & b. absolutely terrifying. Truly this episode is unnerving even if you can sense, unlike our poor protagonist, where it's going. Many a modern angel gets flack for not being 'biblically accurate' i.e. not possessing 200 eyes and 17 wings, but I think few things get closer to the vibe of the annunciation than this guy, who is simultaneously mundane and awe-inspiring, terrifying and gentle. My favourite of the list.

4. Angels Before Man (2022), rafael nicolás.

   The modern angel-lover is probably more likely to have read this than the Bible, but in the rare event that you haven't had the painful pleasure I have absolutely got to put you on to it. Character studies of Lucifer have been coming thick and fast in the past few centuries, but nicolás is well deserving of the praise heaped upon him for producing a distinctly queer retelling which rings at the exact pitch of all those who’ve made it through an enforced Christian childhood.

5. Angel, NewDad.
   

Closing, perhaps unexpectedly, on a song. The cover for NewDad’s Madra bounces around Pinterest with regularity, and if you like it you’ll certainly enjoy this, the most popular song off their debut album. Dark, haunting, and suitably angsty.

FINIS

 

NB: my ability to provide adequate image descriptions isn't particularly practiced - do inform me of ways to improve.