Daniel Nestor does a great job of summing up the great poetry purge at the Paris Review over one We Who Are About to Die. It’s an interesting dilemma for lit mags: exactly who sculpts/defines a magazine’s voice? Is it something that should stay relatively static through the course of its existence or evolve as its editors at lost and added?
Well, I hope it’s something that evolves as editors are lost and added ;^) But… there should a thread of consistency to theme, content, aesthetic, feel. Going from dark and dystopian to absurdist would leave a lot of readers going ‘hunh?’. Intersting question. Peace…
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