Jacaranda Journal Vol 13.1, Breaching Boundaries, is an outstanding collection of short-stories, non-fiction, and visual art—while that sounds like somewhat reductive praise, trust me, it is no small feat to curate, produce, and print a collection of this size. The team at Jacaranda Journal should be proud of what they’ve achieved; the page setting is immensely well done, and full of lovely little touches. I especially adore the little logo above all the written works. While I would love to give flowers to every piece included in the journal, for brevity, and my own sanity, I’ll pick out some of my favourites that I think everyone should read if they pick up a copy.
The most outstanding piece of fiction in the journal, for me, was Bird Person, by Michelle Jardim. The narrative revolves around Louis, a podcaster, and the subject of his latest episode, Robin, a self-proclaimed bird girl (like a horse girl… but for birds). The story plays with some different textual mediums, diary entries, conversation logs with “ClackTPG”, which keeps things interesting and fresh, but the part that hooked me was the heart and soul to this piece that shines through. The characters feel lived-in and fully realised, and the story itself is akin to a brief window into which we get to voyeuristically see them, perhaps through a pair of binoculars (oh my god, like we’re the bird girls of the story! So meta). There’s also a great sense of tongue-in-cheek to the piece, and it kept me grinning from start to finish—I’m a sucker for a bit of whimsy, and I think us writers certainly have a habit of taking ourselves far too seriously.
Food As Mother by Anna Merlo is my pick for non-fiction. I was lucky enough to have a mother that never admonished me for the way I ate, but I know so many people that did. You’d have to be deaf to never hear someone’s mum say, “oh no, just a sliver” at the prospect of cake, or “well I won’t need dinner now!” after a Christmas lunch. Food As Mother is an intimate reflection on motherhood, culture, and connection, tracing the parallels between the author’s relationship with food and her mother’s. The little comments on what you eat, the learnt behaviours, all the things that can build up over time, and can change you for the worse. I find it’s an important topic to talk about at the moment—early 2000’s fashion has returned in the never ceasing wheel and unfortunately brought diet culture back with it. Your body is not a trend! But I digress. This is a lovely piece, composed of little vignettes that paint a portrait of the author’s mum—revealing, honest, but never without love.
òran a’ chuain by Madi Wheeler is a unique and incredibly engaging poem. The layout is fantastic and elevates the prose, and it’s wonderfully evocative. I would, however, be lying to you if I said I could tell you with confidence what the intended meaning of the piece is. I have my own interpretation, but I think it would be a disservice to frontload your experience of the poem with my explication of the text. I very much enjoy works that challenge the reader, not just on a moral front, but from a literary perspective too. There’s a certain value to having to think for yourself without overt guidance—the outcome is unique each time, and the author trusts you, willingly or unwillingly, to find your own way through their work. òran a’ chuain is a poem I find myself returning to often, either on the page or in my head, to dive into its dark and briny waters, and hopefully resurface with meaning.
There are so many other excellent works in Jacaranda Journal worth your time and attention, such as you are p0rnography by Genevieve Whittred, The Hospital Lawns by Claire Watson, god’s bugs by Alison Leonard, or Quick Start Guide for a Human by Kailum Graves. As an editor at Glass, there are so many little touches in Jacaranda Journal that I’ve noticed that other people might’ve missed. There’s value in picking up something new and seeing what stands out to you—it’s the same way a botanist might love a tree for a different reason than a bug. So, grab a copy and see what you find. I’m sure there’s something that will speak to you.
