Primavera and Black Maria: Two Chicago women's literary magazines

Janet Ruth Heller Copyright 1994: Janet Ruth Heller. “Primavera and Black Maria: Two Chicago Women’s Literary Magazines.” Women’s Studies 23.2 (1994): 175-90. Primavera and Black Maria: Two Chicago Women’s Literary Magazines During the late 1960s and the 1970s, American feminists produced an outpouring of scholarly journals and little magazines1 designed to encourage women’s studies and to foster contemporary women writers, artists, and musicians. Jane Williamson argues that feminist periodicals, like consciousness-raising groups, “broke down the isolation between women and ended the silence imposed by sexism” (50). According to Nancy P. Van Zant, women’s journals “support a social movement and . . . introduce new literary trends” (Review of Black Maria et al 1550). June Arnold sees the growth of women’s journals, newspapers, and presses as vital links in a revolutionary communications network (18). One of the first national literary magazines was Aphra, named for the seventeenth-century British author Aphra Behn, who may have been the first woman to support herself by writing. Aphra began publishing in 1969 and ceased publication in 1976. It published primarily fiction and poetry but also published essays of literary and cultural criticism. Aphra set a high standard for quality that later magazines have tried to emulate. Like Aphra, many feminist journals have ceased publication, usually due to staff break-ups or financial problems. However, many women’s literary magazines have survived these turbulent decades and cutbacks in funding for the arts. Proud survivors include Bloodroot (based in Grand Forks, North Dakota), Broomstick (San Francisco), Calyx (Corvallis, Oregon), The Creative Woman (University Park, Illinois), Earth’s Daughters (Buffalo, New York), Frontiers (Albuquerque, New Mexico), Heresies (New York), Iowa Woman (Iowa City), Iris (Charlottesville, Virginia), Kalliope (Jacksonville, Florida), Moving Out (Detroit), Plainswoman (Grand Forks, North Dakota), Primavera (Chicago), Sing Heavenly Muse! (Minneapolis), and Thirteenth Moon (Albany, New York). Some of these journals are associated with a university, which provides both funding and a good base for recruiting editors and assistants. If my own experience as an editor and founding mother of Primavera is any guide, most of us involved in this cultural renaissance were only dimly aware of the vast scope of this aspect of the women’s movement. We established our literary magazines, thinking that we were doing something necessary and unique. Only later did we discover that we were not so unusual, but we continued because we still felt necessary. We felt necessary because our mission was to encourage new women writers and artists. While we occasionally published work by someone who was already famous, most of our pages were devoted to women whose names were not household words. Feminist journals have helped writers to build their reputations. For example, Black Maria printed poetry by Ntozake Shange before she published For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide/ When the Rainbow is Enuf, and Primavera included poetry by Louise Erdrich before she published Love Medicine. Many feminist journals began as regional magazines but eventually achieved national circulation. Black Maria and Primavera are good examples of journals whose first issues focus on Chicago-area women writers and artists but whose later volumes expand to include women from all over the United States and a few from abroad. Both achieved a national circulation of 1,000. These two periodicals are also good examples of the conflicting claims of art and politics, openness and high standards, idealism and pragmatism that all feminist publications must struggle with. The first issue of Black Maria is dated December, 1971. A preface for this issue, entitled “about us,” explains how the literary journal originated. Black Maria was conceived many months ago among several women who were then part of a rap group affiliated with the Chicago Women’s Liberation Union. At the time there was no publication devoted entirely to the writings of Chicago-area women and we saw and felt the need. It seemed to us that a magazine could provide local women with a unique place in which to meet, speak, learn and grow, and that it could contribute toward the development of a [sic] women’s consciousness and perspective that are truly and firmly our own. (i) The “Black Maria Collective” (Donna Ippolito, Marge Everett, Karen Ney, and Kathy Rowley) urges women to send in their writing, photos, and graphics. “Our main criteria are that work be pro-woman, gutsy and to the point, rather than rhetorical, and on as wide a variety of subjects as possible, ranging from one’s everyday or exceptional personal experiences through heavy research topics” (i). Note the focus on Chicago women for the first issue, the openness of the staff to a variety of submissions, and the editors’ self-consciousness of their mission to help women realize their potential. The name Black Maria was chosen by the collective because it refers to the black paddy wagons used by the police to cart the early American suffragettes to jail. This title reveals the editors’ awareness of women’s history and political issues. Black Maria recruited new editors at poetry and fiction readings and at other feminist events. According to former editor Carla Kaplan, most of the editors were active in the Chicago area women’s community. Roughly half of the editors were publishing writers. The Black Maria staff included college students, artists, factory workers, researchers for community organizations, editors at university presses, and house painters. Two of the editors, Chris Straayer and Chris Johnson, were the publishers of Metis Press, which produced lesbian/feminist fiction and children’s books. Metis Press empowered women by encouraging authors to involve themselves in all aspects of getting their books into print (Straayer et al 91), and it published A Book of One’s Own: Guide to Self-Publishing. Everyone on the Black Maria staff read manuscripts submitted. At weekly meetings, the staff decided what to publish by arriving at a consensus. According to Yvonne Zipter, editors often debated whether a manuscript needed a feminist “political message,” or whether “artistic and creative quality” was more important. In a retrospective essay, “Black Maria--Our Herstory” (1983), the staff traces the evolution of the journal and explains the different contributions of five distinct editorial collectives. While most literary magazines are anchored by one or two individuals, Black Maria had groups of three to five women who served as editors for at least several years and trained an entirely new group of women to take over. This passing of the torch was partially due to “burnout” (6, 8); however, the former editors’ lack of possessiveness also entailed a great deal of trust in the new collectives. Each group of editors shared a “political consciousness” (8) but brought new ideas for unifying themes and expanded the journal’s scope. For example, the second collective (Barbara Emrys, Francine Krasno, Susan Wexler, Betty Codell, and Denice Renschen) placed more emphasis on artwork and initiated a series of articles that focused on working women (6-7). Like Black Maria, Primavera originated as an offshoot of a feminist group. In 1974, at the first meeting of the University Feminist Organization at the University of Chicago, three women spoke about the need for a literary magazine that was more open to women than Poetry and the Chicago Review and less sexist than the current campus journal, Wild Onions, whose cover featured a sketch of a woman with gigantic onions for breasts. Celia Josephson, Deborah Gordon Fisher, and I did not know that Black Maria had been in existence for four years. Deborah and I were new graduate students at the University of Chicago and were not familiar with the Chicago literary scene. Celia, an undergraduate, was not from the area either. Another factor was that Black Maria was based on the north side of Chicago, while Primavera held meetings and did much of its publicity on the south side in Hyde Park.2 Had we known about Black Maria, we might have joined forces, and Primavera might never have been born. Deborah, Celia, and I met together, shared one another’s poetry, and were mutually impressed. We felt that we could work together to start a new publication. We put up posters in Hyde Park asking for literature and art from women, and we put announcements in the campus newspaper and in national newsletters and magazines for writers. Any woman in the Chicago area whose work was accepted for publication was asked to join the staff and attend our weekly meetings. We also welcomed any local women who were willing to read manuscripts. This open-door policy was unusual, even for literary magazines. Openness to new editors resulted in a large staff: the title page of volume 6/7 of Primavera (1981) lists 23 editors and 16 associate editors. One disadvantage of the large staff was the potential for friction among editors who disagreed about manuscripts or policies or who simply disliked one another. However, advantages of having a large and diverse staff included the editors’ expertise in different areas. For example, Clara Ann Bowler’s experience as a lawyer was invaluable for questions about copyright and for grant applications. Similarly, Mary Biggs’s background in library science resulted in more information about where to get Primavera indexed and reviewed. The artists on the staff designed page layouts and selected typefaces. After 1982, when I left Chicago and was no longer able to serve on the staff, the editorial board shrank somewhat and has had four to eight people. Another unique feature of our editorial policy was to write personal letters to every individual who submitted her poems, stories, or graphics. We often urged writers to make specific revisions and then re-submit their manuscripts to Primavera. Occasionally, we got irate replies from women whose feelings were hurt by our criticism. One contributor even wrote a parody of my rejection note! More often, we received thank you notes for our detailed comments on manuscripts. Apparently, many women lacked sources for feedback in their communities. A letter written to me by Carol Anderson Porter of Edina, Minnesota, is a good example. She begins, “I never thought I would feel encouraged by a rejection slip, but your comments on my story were a bright spot in a dreary December and I wanted to thank you. It’s so nice to know that my story actually was read . . . .” Porter goes on to contrast our policy to the more common practice of sending form rejection notes or merely returning manuscripts with no comments whatsoever. She concludes by asking for a subscription “in appreciation for the support and encouragement you offer me and other women struggling to see their work published” (6 December 1981). By 1985, the editors of Primavera decided to ask those submitting manuscripts to specify whether they wanted individual criticism or not. This spared writers hurt feelings and also saved the staff time by allowing editors to write personal notes only to those who wanted frank feedback. Writing such individual criticism was good practice for those staff members who were headed toward careers as teachers, professors, and editors for publishing companies. I found that staff discussions of manuscripts forced me to define my own aesthetic clearly. At the same time, I was confronted with and learned to respect aesthetic positions radically different from mine. My current students, especially in composition and creative writing classes, benefit from my experience as a Primavera editor who had only one vote and needed to convince a majority that her analysis of an unknown writer’s work was on target. I learned to be specific and tactful when articulating what I perceived as the strengths and weaknesses of a manuscript. In addition to regular meetings, Primavera also conducted occasional staff workshops for poetry and prose written by the editors. The discussions at these workshops, as usual, were frank and detailed. We began to take ourselves more seriously as novelists and poets. Many of us editors started sending out our own work for publication, and we shared information about journals open to new writers. Kary Wolfe, Clara Ann Bowler, Ruth Young, Karen Peterson, and I established a separate monthly workshop for our writing that lasted for four years. I used to joke that we would be known in the future as the Lake Michigan Poets because we met in Ann Bowler’s solarium overlooking the lakeshore. Primavera also sponsored poetry readings to celebrate the publication of each issue and open readings on International Women’s Day (March 8). These readings enabled us to meet some of the women who had sent us their writing and artwork and also gave the magazine good publicity. Reviewing one such reading during the summer of 1976 in Poetry &, JoAnn Castagna commended the “professional” presentations. When she interviewed the staff, she found that while the editors had “distinctive personal (and poetic) styles, they were also very supportive and respectful toward each other” (3). Our journal tended to attract more older women to the staff, including married women and grandmothers, than Black Maria did. This was due to Primavera’s openness to new editors, its emphasis on art and writing style rather than controversial political issues,3 and its focus on general women’s concerns. Black Maria tended to devote more space to journalism, essays on controversial topics, and lesbian writing. While both staffs included lesbians, they were a more dominant force for Black Maria. We began by referring to our journal generically as the “women’s literary magazine,” but, obviously, we needed an original title. We spent about 30 minutes at one meeting brainstorming. Should we call it “Emergence”? “Spring”? Finally, someone suggested “Primavera,” which means “springtime” in Spanish and Italian and is a feminine noun. This won unanimous approval, though we were a bit nervous about the “foreign” sound of the word. Would people buy a journal with a weird title? Unlike the Black Maria Collective, Primavera staff members wrote seven individual manifestoes for the first issue rather than a joint statement about the journal’s objectives. In my own paragraphs, I emphasize, “No attempt was made by Primavera’s editors to impose any political criteria on the process of selection.” Edith Turner explains the journal’s dual goals of serving both local writers and expressing the universal: “The purpose of Primavera is to be the voice of women here in Chicago, the voice of woman’s own intrinsic art.” Clara Ann Bowler insists, We are no longer interlopers in a world governed by the masculine mystique where the highest achievement is to write or draw “like a man.” We do not accept the popular equation of excellence with masculinity. Rather, our ideals are individualistic and human. We are committed to artistic expression in terms of sincere feelings and experience, not sexual stereotypes. Kary Wolfe stresses Primavera’s interest in widening the circle of women writers. “Perhaps our aim . . . is not to be like many literary publications, which have served to spread the fame of a small group of previously unknown writers, but rather to be a center for expression of EVERYWOMAN, who writes as she cleans, types, teaches, administers, or studies” (i-ii). In January of 1975, we published the first volume of Primavera, which was partially funded by the University of Chicago’s Student Government. The local media gave it mixed reviews. For example, Barbara Annis wrote in the Hyde Park Herald that the first issue contained a disproportionate number of poems and that some of the writing seemed overly self-conscious and hypersensitive. But she concluded, “Dramatic sensitive women making dramatic sensitive statements is . . . a relief from the macho-male-literature that we’re all so familiar with. . . . These women bring a wide range of experience to their work. . . . I also appreciated the coordination between the written work and the illustrations” (21). Paul Carroll of Chicago complained that much of the first issue had “boring” prose or verses that “groan with Weltschmerz, pubescent ardors, and the memory of horses.” However, he praised some “vital,” “lyrical” and “strongly felt” poetry, “haunting” graphics, and Edith Turner’s powerful essay (120-21). Later issues also receive mixed reviews. Analyzing the third volume of Primavera for Poetry &, Cynthia Gallaher praises the “thoughtful” and concise poetry but complains that there are no “earth-shattering ideas.” Gallaher finds the fiction uneven: some pieces are “original” and “exciting,” while others lack character development (2). Ron Gagnon, reviewing volume 5 for the Chicago Maroon in 1979, is enthusiastic about Primavera’s “vitality and jubilant energy” combined with “maturity” born of wide-ranging experiences. In general, he finds that the poetry and prose have “clarity and power” but lack “consistent workmanship” (5). Slowly, Primavera garnered reviews outside of Chicago. Most of the reviewers enjoy the literature but have reservations about its consistency or development. For example, Kay Murphy likes the “diversity of good writing” in volume 2 but worries that “Consistency in quality has been sacrificed for variety in themes and forms” (Illinois Writer’s Newsletter, September 1976, 11). Susan McAndless, reviewing volume 3 for radio station WORT and Isthmus of Madison, Wisconsin, praises the “wide range of styles” and “unique” women’s perspectives but wants the writing to be more developed (4). Duane Taylor is impressed by volume 6/7, which he says “produces the magic characteristic of art that lasts” (Illinois Writers Review 13-14). Eventually, Primavera was reviewed in feminist publications with a national circulation. One of the more detailed reviews appeared in Off Our Backs, a feminist newspaper based in Washington, D. C., in May of 1975. Frances Chapman praises Primavera because it “puts woman-orientation before specific boundaries of genre.” She especially likes the journal’s new, feminist approach to traditional topics like nature, the Bible, and male-female relationships. However, Chapman urges the editors of Primavera to improve their selection of “lesbian poems,” which she considers too conventional in imagery and not “affirmative” enough about lesbian love (17). In a 1982 roundup review in Ms., Jane Williamson includes Primavera among what she considers “excellent literary journals” (50). National publications directed at librarians were also among the first to review Primavera. Bill Katz, writing for Library Journal in 1976, complains that the quality of the work in the first volume is uneven; however, he likes the wide range of the contributors’ ages and the variety of backgrounds and subjects. Katz concludes, “The cumulative voice is representative of what the women’s movement is about. Even skipping here and there the average reader will learn more about the condition of women in America than in numerous texts” (vol. 101, no. 14: 1608). Nancy P. Van Zant praises Primavera in Choice (1980) because it is “aesthetically pleasing and conforms to a high standard” (645). One important difference between Black Maria and Primavera is that the former always published more essays, including book reviews, biographies, interviews, and collaborative, staff-written essays. The first issue of Black Maria is dominated by the essay genre (later issues have more poetry and fiction). It includes essays entitled “Why Women’s Liberation” (in question-and-answer format), “How to Start Your Own Consciousness-Raising Group” (which includes a list of topics for discussion), “Life with The Man in Chicago” (about 7 college students’ experiment in communal living), “Notes on a Writer’s Workshop” (this essay explains why women need their own literature and also analyses an eight-week writer’s workshop run by the Black Maria Collective in Chicago), “No Lady, Prison Didn’t Improve Me None” (a poem about black women in prison followed by an informative essay about women in prison that includes interviews with present and former inmates), “Banding Together” (written by a founder of the Chicago Women’s Liberation Rock Band about the history and tensions of the group), and “Genesis Revisited” (an essay/parable about how men evolved “powermania”). In a 1973 review for Library Journal, Bill Katz praises the range of essays in Black Maria and adds, “The articles make it all worthwhile, and then some. The poetry and the fiction . . . is [sic] less impressive” (1461). 4. Katz repeats this judgment in later reviews, including his analysis of Black Maria in the 1978 edition of Magazines for Libraries (892). Black Maria’s essays have more overt analysis of what Kate Millet has called “sexual politics” than Primavera’s essays do. This political interest is made explicit in the subtitle of Black Maria, volume 3, number 1, “Art and Politics” (1975). The issue includes an essay about why wife beating has been overlooked by our society. Another essay sketches the life of black feminist and socialist labor organizer Lucy Parsons. Other topics covered by essays in different issues include abortion, the women’s strike in New York in 1909, women’s clinics, and aging. One of the most interesting essays ever published by Black Maria appears in volume 4, number 2 (1981).5. Although Black Maria was published roughly once a year, the issues are numbered as if the journal were a quarterly. Otherwise, the 1981 issue would be volume 11. Primavera has also been publishing one issue every year, although some double issues have been published to make up for a gap. However, Primavera has numbered issues like an annual magazine: thus, its 1981 double issue is volume 6/7. Frequency of publication is affected by the availability of funds and by the selectivity of the editors when evaluating manuscripts. “Playboy Funding in the Women’s Community: Who’s Getting Ripped Off?” is a collaborative effort of the entire Black Maria staff, with Carla Kaplan doing the final editing. Kaplan et al argue that if women’s organizations accept Playboy money, they will be hesitant to criticize Playboy’s portrayal of women as passive sexual objects whose oppression and exploitation are natural and acceptable. Furthermore, Kaplan and her cohorts insist that when a feminist group accepts funds from Playboy, the women become polarized over the acceptance of tainted money. Women who object to the Playboy funds often leave the organization, which may weaken or destroy it. “[T]ension and silence” corrode feminist solidarity (4-13). From the beginning, Black Maria editors have emphasized writing that takes a feminist sociopolitical stance. The journal’s listing in the 1979 edition of Lynne D. Shapiro’s Write On, Woman! describes Black Maria as “Oriented to feminist women only.” Shapiro quotes the editors’ aesthetic statement: “‘We are looking for art which suggests answers, presents a strong image of women, their issues and lives. Not necessarily lesbian, but women relating to women and themselves.’” The collective states that it does not want to see submissions in the following categories: “‘suicide and masochism,’” “‘ain’t it awful,’” and “‘I’m liberated but lost’” (7). In a “Statement of Editorial Policy” on the last page of Black Maria 4.4 (1984), the editors define their journal as “distinctly feminist, anti-racist, -ageist, -classist.” Similarly, Len Fulton’s 1987 edition of The International Directory of Little Magazines and Small Presses quotes the following aesthetic statement from his correspondence with the Black Maria editors: “‘Interested in redefining women’s position in society, family & herself’” (66). Note that despite the staff changes, the collective’s commitment to these sociopolitical principles remains consistent. Reviewers have reacted differently to Black Maria’s political stance. In 1977, JoAnn Castagna praises Black Maria in Poetry & because the “accessible” poetry and fiction emphasize “women becoming,” not “women as they are defined and/or stereotyped by the society” (Review of 3.2, p. 6). Comparing Primavera and Black Maria, Castagna writes, “Black Maria . . . attempts a much more difficult task. Their attitude is more radical than other feminist magazines; at the same time, the level of writing is consistently high” (Review of Black Maria 3.3, p. 6). Cristine C. Rom, analyzing Black Maria in 1979 for Serials Review, likes the “good mixture of fact and fiction” and the “forceful images” but finds that Black Maria sometimes has trouble synthesizing good art with feminist politics. “Much of the mag’s [sic] fiction lacks the literary finesse found in the best of today’s feminist prose. Clearly, the editors look most [closely] at a woman’s message, not her literary sophistication” (31). Rom discusses this problem as if it were unique to Black Maria; however, any woman’s magazine needs to confront the issue of canon. What is “good” women’s writing? Must “feminist” work take a certain political stance? In encouraging “new” writers, how many flaws should editors tolerate? More recent reviews emphasize a shift from the more overt politics of the earlier issues of Black Maria to the dominance of poetry and fiction in the later issues. Bill Katz and Linda Sternberg Katz praise the “broadly diverse selections” and the “good quality and controversial writing and art” (Magazines for Libraries, 1986 edition, 1001). Unlike Black Maria’s editors, Primavera’s staff did not write joint essays about feminist issues. The few essays published in Primavera tend to emphasize an unusual experience, such as anthropologist Edith Turner’s observation of initiation and wedding rituals for women in Zambia, “Girl into Woman” (1.83-86), or humor, such as Marya Argetsinger Smith’s parody of Chicago Magazine surveys of restaurants in “Taking the Journalistic Survey Piece to its Logical (or Illogical) Conclusion: Choosing a Restaurant via the Ladies Room, or Where to Go in Chicago” (2.9-10). Although our University of Chicago address attracted some scholarly essays, we chose not to publish academic writing. Our focus was on poetry, fiction, and creative essays. Besides, there were plenty of new scholarly journals for women’s studies articles, including Women and Literature, Signs, Feminist Studies, Women’s Studies, etc. Despite the differences in emphasis between Primavera and Black Maria, both magazines published some of the same writers, especially poets. For example, Martha Courtot, Carol Gloor, and Donna Ippolito appeared in both journals. Certain topics of universal concern to women, such as motherhood and breast cancer, can be found in the fiction of Black Maria and Primavera. Because sales of a literary magazine can rarely keep up with production costs, most journals require a source of outside funding. Both Primavera and Black Maria have received grants from the Coordinating Council of Literary Magazines and grants or awards from the Illinois Arts Council. Primavera also obtained one grant in the 1970s from the National Endowment for the Arts. Both journals sold advertisements in the back of some issues. Black Maria raised money at public readings and women’s dances. Occasionally, the collective gave guest lectures at colleges, such as one at Ripon College in Wisconsin. Early in its history, Primavera received major support from the University of Chicago because the magazine began as a student organization. However, it was often hard to convince a student government used to giving a club $50 a year for posters and refreshments that Primavera needed $3000 for typesetting and printing. According to editor Ruth Young, Primavera disassociated itself from the University of Chicago in 1990 because it had not received any money from the university for years and because the account books for student organizations were poorly kept. The editors never received monthly statements, and sometimes checks deposited disappeared. Currently, Primavera relies on income from sales of its volumes and on grants from the Illinois Arts Council. Funding problems have had a strong impact on both Primavera and on Black Maria. Primavera reduced the size of its issues in 1986 to save money. Volumes 1 through 9 are 8½ by 11 inches, while volumes 10 on are 5½ by 8½ inches. (Black Maria always maintained a size of 6 by 9 inches.) Funding uncertainty has also occasionally caused Primavera to delay publication of an issue. Despite the fact that both staffs met weekly, neither Black Maria nor Primavera could afford to pay its editors. The pressure of having a job or being a full-time student while devoting hours of work each week to reading manuscripts and handling correspondence often resulted in burnout. According to Deborah Trantow, Black Maria ceased publishing in 1985 because the staff had dwindled to a small number of women, which meant that each editor’s workload was overwhelming. Also, the staff had missed some deadlines for Illinois Arts Council grants and was left with little money for another issue. After years of debating whether to open its pages to males, Primavera first published work written by men in volume 10 (1986) because the editors felt “that the subject and/or perspective was female, the writing deft.” However, beginning with volume 14/15 (1991), the editors changed their policy radically, opening Primavera to male writers regardless of whether they focused on women’s experiences. Furthermore, a man, William Falloon, joined the editorial staff in 1990. The editors now argue that the new policy enables Primavera to publish “the best manuscripts we received, period” (“A Note from the Editors,” 14/15.3-4). In an interview with Darlene Gavron of the Chicago Tribune, editor Ruth Young emphasized that Primavera has a “humanist approach” (2). Mary Eaton, reviewing the 1988 volume of Primavera, appreciates this humanist stance. She praises the work in volume 11/12 because “the viewpoints shown take in humanity of all ages and both sexes” (22). Contacts between the editors of Black Maria and Primavera began shortly after Primavera began regular weekly staff meetings during the summer of 1974. Betty Codell, a member of the second Black Maria Collective, attended several Primavera meetings, and two of her poems were published in the first volume of Primavera. More extensive contacts between the two journals’ staffs occurred when many of the editors met one another at the Chicago Women Writers’ Conference held at the Chicago Public Library Cultural Center on September 13, 1980. Black Maria and Metis Press sponsored a session entitled Small Press Open Meeting, and the two staffs decided to network with Janet Deckenbach, a woman editor from the Chicago Review. We formed a group called Midwest Women in Print. The three journals worked together on joint publicity, such as displays in university libraries, and some joint distribution to bookstores was attempted. However, the group members disagreed about which funding sources were politically pure, so no joint grant proposals were submitted. Also, meetings of Midwest Women in Print were time-consuming for editors already attending one long staff meeting per week. As a result of the political disagreements and the time crunch, Midwest Women in Print fell apart in 1982. My examination of the history and contents of Primavera and Black Maria raises some general issues for feminist magazines based in the midwest. I will present these issues as questions because none of them has an easy answer. l) Should women’s literary magazines focus on contemporary issues or on the aesthetic qualities of a work? June Arnold insists, “It is . . . important that readers of feminist periodicals have an ongoing political analysis of the art and the political theory that we are creating” (24). It is equally important to provide a forum for women with different perspectives and aesthetics. 2) In attempting to encourage new women writers and artists, how high should editorial boards set standards? Some feminist groups, like the editors of Canticum Novum (1973-74) in Madison, Wisconsin, and the Women’s Press Collective of Oakland, California, which edited Lesbians Speak Out, have published anthologies which accepted at least one poem from every woman who submitted a manuscript (“Women’s Press” 8). This editorial stance allows diversity and avoids imposing one aesthetic perspective but can also result in substandard poems being published solely because they were written by women. Many women, especially those trying to get published for the first time, could benefit from constructive criticism. Should editors ask women for revisions, and if so, how can the revisions be requested in a manner that respects the individual writer’s voice? 3) How can non-profit feminist journals obtain funding while preserving editorial independence? This is a problem for literary magazines in general.6 Most journals cannot afford to pay their editors or their contributors, and printing costs keep rising. However, the problem is more acute for feminist publications because they must find donors sympathetic to their ideological stance. Karl Shapiro argued in 1965 that universities, foundations, and governments that fund journals tend to censor, either directly or indirectly, what gets published (15-20). He had encountered censorship as the editor of Poetry and of Prairie Schooner. Similarly, Primavera was denied funding by the University of Chicago Student Government in 1982 because it did not publish men or include men on its editorial board. Solvency is especially a problem when states are cutting back on arts council funding and the National Endowment for the Arts is enmeshed in political infighting and is being pushed by some powerful groups to censor grant recipients. Perhaps networking among similar journals in the answer. The fact that Midwest Women in Print had a short life does not mean that all such ventures are doomed. 4) Will a publication like Primavera lose its focus as a feminist journal if work by men is published and men serve on the editorial board? Will it become just another little magazine? Conversely, is it merely reverse discrimination to exclude male editors, authors, and artists? In a review of Primavera published in 1978, Claudia Magat argues that separate women’s literary magazines isolate women and “erect yet another barrier between men and women. A magazine that publishes only women is separatist and sexist, . . . even if the contents of the magazine do not specifically support these doctrines” (8). In contrast, Carla Kaplan, a former editor of Black Maria who now teaches at Yale University, contends that any journal has a basic focus, and to concentrate on women’s writing and artwork is as legitimate as any other focal point.7 To ask why a women’s magazine does not publish work by men is, according to Kaplan, an act of misunderstanding. She points out that no one demands that Poetry publish journalism. Furthermore, she recalls, “We were publishing during a time when it was important for women to lay claim to their own voices, values, and culture.” Adrienne Rich, in an essay on separatism, observes that separatism may be conducive to growth. An act of separation, separateness, can also be an act of connection. An all-female space is not definable simply as a space from which males are excluded. It can also be--though it is not always--a space where women who have not heard each other before bear witness (Sarah Hoagland’s phrase) in each other’s presence and describe themselves to each other, forging new strands of trust and new possibilities of movement. (88) At its best, a women’s literary magazine is such a space that fosters new connections.* English Department Western Michigan University * I would like to thank JoAnn Castagna for sending me reviews of Primavera and Black Maria that I was unable to locate. I am also grateful to the following women who took the time for an interview: Carla Kaplan, Margie Skelly, Deborah Trantow, Ruth Young, and Yvonne Zipter.  Notes 1Michael Anania points to what he calls an "explosion in little-magazine publication" during the late 1960s and the 1970s. He attributes this increase in the number of journals to "the availability of grants," "a growing population of writers," and "access to various kinds of printing technology" (10). 2Lavender Woman, a lesbian feminist newspaper, was also based in Chicago and published issues from 1971 to 1976. It did publish some poetry, but did not focus on literature. See Michal Brody's Are We There Yet? for a history of this newspaper and interviews with former staff members. 3Although Primavera itself did not take political stances, the editors were often involved in the women's movement. I became one of the coordinators of the University Feminist Organization, led rap groups, and helped organize women's studies conferences. Before I came to Chicago, I had helped to establish the Rape Crisis Center in Madison, Wisconsin, and was active in the Women's Action Movement. Most of the Primavera staff marched together and attended a rally in Chicago on May 10, 1980, in support of the Equal Rights Amendment. 4Katz repeats this judgment in later reviews, including his analysis of Black Maria in the 1978 edition of Magazines for Libraries (892). 5Although Black Maria was published roughly once a year, the issues are numbered as if the journal were a quarterly. Otherwise, the 1981 issue would be volume 11. Primavera has also been publishing one issue every year, although some double issues have been published to make up for a gap. However, Primavera has numbered issues like an annual magazine: thus, its 1981 double issue is volume 6/7. Frequency of publication is affected by the availability of funds and by the selectivity of the editors when evaluating manuscripts. 6Michael Anania, former director of CCLM, presents some statistics to illustrate how difficult it is for literary magazines to secure funds. He writes in 1978, "Foundation support for literature nationally is less than 1 percent of all grants made, and the National Endowment manages less than 2 percent. Literature is altogether too private, both in its production and consumption, to gather the support given to operas, orchestras, theater companies, and ballets" (18). 7When male editors prepare special women's issues that claim to present women's concerns, the results are usually quite different from Primavera, Black Maria, and other bona fide women's journals. For example, December, which has an editorial board of six men and one woman, published "Our Feminist Issue" in 1981. While some of the work is genuinely about women's experiences, the alleged purpose of the issue is undermined by many of the selections. Editors Curt Johnson et al include many photographs of nude prostitutes in provocative poses with captions such as "Lez lollygagging" (216) and "A graphic demonstration of women's inhumanity to man" (214). A short story by Jack Saunders entitled "One Hundred Views of Mount Fuji" (42-51) stresses the protagonist's obsession with women's panties, vaginas, and breast sizes, and his fantasies about raping women (he barely speaks to most of the women he meets and declares that "three emancipated women" are "doomed to failure"). Lee Wallek, one of the male editors, writes an essay which makes fun of women's history, the women's movement, feminist newspapers like Off Our Backs, feminist analysis of language, etc. ("The Empress' Monkeies" 207-24). Such "feminist issues" self-destruct and reveal more about the male editors' sexual fantasies and obsessions than about women's lives.  Works Consulted Anania, Michael. “Of Living Belfry and Rampart: On American Literary Magazines Since 1950.” The Little Magazine in America: A Modern Documentary History. Ed. Elliott Anderson and Mary Kinzie. Yonkers, NY: Pushcart, 1978. 6-23. Annis, Barbara. “Local Women Publish.” Hyde Park Herald 5 February 1975: 21. Aphra. Ed. Elizabeth Fisher et al. Published 1969-76. Arnold, June. “Feminist Presses & Feminist Politics.” Quest 3.1 (Summer 1976): 18-26. Black Maria. Ed. Black Maria Collective. Published 1971-85. “Black Maria.” The International Directory of Little Magazines and Small Presses. Ed. Len Fulton. 23rd edn. Paradise, CA: Dustbooks, 1987. 66-67. “Black Maria.” Write On, Woman!: A Writers & Artists Guide to Women’s Alternate Press Periodicals. Ed. Lynne D. Shapiro. 2nd edn. New York: Lynne D. Shapiro, 1978. 7-8. Black Maria Collective. “Black Maria--Our Herstory.” Black Maria 4.3 (1983): 5-8. Brody, Michal, ed. Are We There Yet?: A Continuing History of Lavender Woman, a Chicago Lesbian Newspaper, 1971-1976. Iowa City: Aunt Lute, 1985. Carroll, Paul. Review of Primavera. Chicago May 1975: 120-21. Castagna, JoAnn. “Primavera.” Poetry & 1.1 (July 1976): 3, 7. ---. Review of Black Maria 3.2. Poetry & 1.9 (April 1977): 6. ---. Review of Black Maria 3.3. Poetry & 2.6 (December 1977): 6. Chapman, Frances. “Primavera.” Off Our Backs May/June 1975: 17. Eaton, Mary. “Primavera.” Literary Magazine Review 7.4 (Winter 1988-89): 22-25. Gagnon, Ron. “Viva Primavera.” Chicago Maroon 3 August 1979: 5. Gallaher, Cynthia. Review of Primavera 3. Poetry & 2.6 (December 1977): 2. ---. Review of Primavera 4. Poetry & 2.9 (April 1978): 2. Gavron, Darlene. “Primavera Gets Fresh with Men.” Chicago Tribune 31 May 1987, sec. 6: 2. Heller, Janet Ruth. “Primavera: The History of an Idea.” The Chicago Literary Review 6 June 1980: 19. Hoffman, Frederick John, Charles Allen, and Carolyn F. Ulrich. The Little Magazine: A History and a Bibliography. 2nd edn. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1967. Johnson, Curt, et al., eds. December 23.3/4 (1981). Kaplan, Carla. Editor of Black Maria 1979-84. Telephone interview. 17 June 1992. Katz, Bill. “Black Maria.” Library Journal 98.9 (1 May 1973): 1461. ---. “Black Maria.” Magazines for Libraries: Second Edition Supplement. Ed. Bill Katz and Berry Gargal. New York: R. R. Bowker, 1974. 274. ---. “Black Maria.” Magazines for Libraries. Ed. Bill Katz and Berry G. Richards. 3rd edn. New York: R. R. Bowker, 1978. ---. “Primavera.” Library Journal 101.14 (August 1976): 1608. ---. “Primavera.” Library Journal 112.17 (15 October 1987): 54. Katz, Bill, and Linda Sternberg Katz. “Black Maria.” Magazines for Libraries. Ed. Bill Katz and Linda Sternberg Katz. 5th edn. New York: R. R. Bowker, 1986. 1001. ---. “Primavera.” Magazines for Libraries. Ed. Bill Katz and Linda Sternberg Katz. 5th edn. New York: R. R. Bowker, 1986. 1002. Magat, Claudia. “Primavera: Pride and Prejudice.” The Chicago Literary Review 2 June 1978: 8-9. Martin, Peter A. “Aphra” in “An Annotated Bibliography of Selected Little Magazines.” The Little Magazine in America. Ed. Elliott Anderson and Mary Kinzie. Yonkers, NY: Pushcart, 1978. 678-79. Martinez, Delores. “Not a Prime Choice.” The Chicago Literary Review 2 June 1978: 9. McAndless, Susan. “A Sense of Urgency.” Isthmus 21-27 October 1977: 4. Murphy, Kay. Review of Primavera, Volume 2. Illinois Writer’s Newsletter September 1976: 11-12. Phillips, William. “The Literary Situation.” The Little Magazine and Contemporary Literature. A Symposium Held at the Library of Congress 2 and 3 April 1965. New York: Modern Language Association of America, 1966. 7-14. Porter, Carol Anderson. Letter to the author. 6 December 1981. Primavera. Ed. Ruth Young et al. Published 1975 to present. “Primavera.” The International Directory of Little Magazines and Small Presses. Ed. Len Fulton. 23rd edn. Paradise, CA: Dustbooks, 1987. 432. “Primavera.” Write On, Woman!: A Writers & Artists Guide to Women’s Alternate Press Periodicals. Ed. Lynne D. Shapiro. 2nd. edn. New York: Lynne D. Shapiro, 1978. 42. Rich, Adrienne. “Notes for a Magazine: What Does Separatism Mean?” Sinister Wisdom No. 18 (Fall 1981): 83-91. Rom, Cristine C. “Black Maria” in “Feminist Little Magazines.” Serials Review 5 (October/December 1979): 31-32. Searing, Susan. “Aphra” in “Feminist Magazines.” Serials Review 5 (October/December 1979): 14-15. Shapiro, Karl. “The Campus Literary Organ.” The Little Magazine and Contemporary Literature. A Symposium Held at the Library of Congress 2 and 3 April 1965. New York: Modern Language Association of America, 1966. 15-20. Skelly, Margie. Editor of Black Maria. Telephone interview. May 1992. Stearns, Marsha. “Funding Primavera.” Thrice-Born 1.5 (19 February 1982): 1. Straayer, Chris, Chris Johnson, and Janet Soule. “Metis Press.” Sinister Wisdom No. 13 (Summer 1980): 91-94. Taylor, Duane. Review of Primavera 6/7. “In Brief: Illinois Literary Bibliography.” Illinois Writers Review 1.2 (July 1981): 13-14. Trantow, Deborah. Editor of Black Maria. Telephone interview. 25 June 1992. Van Zant, Nancy P. Review of Black Maria, Calyx, and Sibyl-Child. “Periodicals for College Libraries.” Choice 16 (February 1980): 1550-51. ---. Review of Moving Out and Primavera. “Periodicals for College Libraries.” Choice 17.5/6 (July/August 1980): 645. Williamson, Jane. “Sister Publications--Record of a Decade.” Ms. July/August 1982: 50. Women’s Press Collective. “Ma Revolution: Women’s Press.” Workforce (September/October 1978): 7-8. Young, Ruth. Editor of Primavera 1978-present. Telephone interview. 12 May 1992. Zipter, Yvonne. Editor of Black Maria. Telephone interview. 15 June 1992.  Abstract “Primavera and Black Maria: Two Chicago Women’s Literary Magazines” analyzes the history and contents of these women’s journals and their role in the women’s movement. Primavera grew out of the University Feminist Organization at the University of Chicago in 1974, though it is now an independent journal. It has emphasized poetry, fiction, and graphics. Black Maria (1971-85) was always independent and was more political in focus, publishing more essays than Primavera did. Both journals had the goal of encouraging new women writers and artists, and both served as talent scouts for writers who later published books, including Ntozake Shange and Louise Erdrich. Both journals have struggled with funding and canon issues. Primavera and Black Maria have received funding from the Illinois Arts Council and the Coordinating Council of Literary Magazines. Other sources of funding have been less reliable. In the late 1980s, after years of staff debates, Primavera opened its pages to male authors, and by 1990, William Falloon had joined the editorial board. In contrast, Black Maria maintained a policy of excluding male authors and editors. Both journals have tried to balance the goals of encouraging new writers and yet setting high standards, publishing politically aware literature and yet avoiding a political “line.” Both literary magazines started as regional publications; however, they soon became national in scope and in circulation. Both were part of a renaissance in feminist publishing that began in the late 1960s and continues to the present day. PAGE 16