Electric Literature lives up to both descriptors

UPDATE: The folks at Electric Literature sent me an extra copy of the first issue, and I’ll send it to a random commenter who leaves an answer this week to the following question: What is the most “dangerous” piece of fiction you’ve read and why? Respond by midnight CDT Aug. 2.

The debut of a literary journal — even in these depressed economic times — isn’t stop-the-presses news. In fact, the new Electric Literature would be unremarkable save for the quality of the stories in its debut, were it not for its mode of delivery.

The journal is available in four formats: traditional print paperback, Kindle, eBook and iPhone compatible. “We have adopted an environmentally conscious approach to publishing,” the editors write on the journal’s web site: “Ultimately, the content of a book is information, and the methods of distributing information have changed. Electronic publishing is the greenest option: it kills no trees, requires very little energy, never goes out of print, and can reach anyone on the planet.”

The paper versions are green as well; the publisher uses print-on-demand technology, which means you won’t see this on newsstands and then remaindered years later.

But lest you think the emphasis is on the “electric” rather than the “literature,” it opens with some heavy hitters, including Jim Shepard and Michael Cunningham. Shepard’s story would have fit nicely in his last collection, Like You’d Understand, Anyway. It’s historical fiction, of a sort, telling of a team of researchers in the Swiss Alps at the dawn of World War II. The other writers — T Cooper, Lydia Millet and Diana Wagman — were new to me, but their compelling stories made them worthy contributors to this first issue. My only complaint was that Cunningham’s contribution is a novel excerpt. I hate when the New Yorker wastes its one fiction slot with an excerpt, and it’s no better here. If I want to read the novel, I’ll read the novel. Reading a snippet satisfies no one.

That aside, the real interesting thing will be to see if the magazine develops an aesthetic or tone. It promises “reading that’s bad for you,” describing it thusly: “Lady Chatterley’s Lover, Ulysses, Madam Bovary… these books were banned because they could subvert society. How? Again, by revealing life’s possibilities, expanding consciousness, and exploding social norms. We want to re-introduce the idea that reading can be dangerous.”

The jury is still out on that, as there is nothing here that I haven’t seen elsewhere. The stories are good — edgy in spots — but it’s difficult to foresee anything coming within Electric Literature’s pages that would shock in the way the above-mentioned works did in their time. They will get quality work thanks to the promise of $1,000 per story, an almost unheard-of sum for a literary journal.

Still, for what it is — five stories over 100 very basically laid-out pages — it’s a very high-quality publication with a lot of promise. I can’t imagine reading this much prose on an iPhone, but for those seeking more substance than their various apps can provide, this certainly fits the bill. Me, I’ll spare my eyesight and stick with the paper copy.

The journal is embracing the possibilities of the web and electronic media. It released a trailer this week for Shepard’s story, “Your Fate Hurtles Down at You.” It was animated by Jonathan Ashley and scored by musician Nick DeWitt. Watch it below: