Swill Number 5

[cathschaffstump]

Note: This reviewer will not touch upon her own story in this review. Rather, I will focus on the efforts of my fellow contributors, whose work still crosses over into that literary border from time to time.

About a year ago, I wrote a review of Swill 4. I was delighted with the content. On the current issue's cover, Matt DiGangi says, " Swill is what I always thought underground literature should look like" and I agree. Swill is dangerously close to literature.

That said, this issue of Swill is different than its most recent predecessor. Oh, it's still disturbing bothersome stuff, sort of like a punk album at 78 RPM, but this time the world of the internal is where the magazine spends most of its time. Number 4 played with the outside world. Number 5 plays with the mind. Eight of the eleven stories in this issue are told from a first person perspective. The remaining three stories play their narration on an internal note. The narrators are not all unlikeable, but they are certainly twisted.

It would be hard to pick a favorite piece. Sean Craven's brutal Jimmy's Confession scans as torture for a good cause. You realize you sort of approve of the hero's actions while you wince at him for his violence and at yourself for your approval. Chia Ever's very dark The Quiet Type is an x-rated Poe with an Evers-eque twist at the end.

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