University of Virginia Library

Last Rapier Found Mired In Format

By Charles Ribokoff

The new Rapier, which goes on sale
this Friday, is, as always, slick,
generally well-written, and occasionally very
funny. Its layout is the best it has been in
recent months, finally eliminating the large
quantities of the white 'waste' space that
has plagued recent issues. The graphics and
photography are also much improved.

But the new Rapier is not a very good
magazine. It has become mired in its heavily
stylized format until it seems stagnant; with
some exceptions, one has the feeling while
reading this issue that one has seen it all
before. More important, the magazine,
although wide in scope and ambition, is
almost totally lacking in immediate relevance.
The flair which made Rapier such a
schitzophonomonic carnival to read is
mostly gone.

Just where it has gone is something of a
mystery. In the somewhat closed microcosmic
world of University literati, there is
often a tendency to be overprotective of
other publications and writers; it can be an
uncomfortable relevation to find out one
has been too protective.

Nearly every talented writer and artist at
the University has been an editor of Rapier
at one time or another during the
magazine's three year history. Unfortunately,
few of them remain, and those who are
left seem overworked, and, as a result,
somewhat state.

Further, the intrigues, coups, and
counter-coups have changed the management
of the magazine almost monthly; the
stories of these could make a fairly
successful novel of International Intrigue.

One group found themselves deposed
when the locks on the doors of the Rapier
office were suddenly changed, and they
were literally locked out. One former editor,
(judiciously immortalised on the inside
cover of this issue) decided that he was

underpaid, and abruptly left town with
much of the Rapier treasury. So it has gone:
and, as a result of the ever-present coups,
many of the talented writers have gone too.

Gone for a variety of reasons are the
humorous if over-selfconscious political
satire of founder Robert Rosen; Peter
Kempson's excellent art work and graphics;
most of the outstanding critics and
reviewers and David Cox' painstaking
layouts; the new Rapier could use them all.
For the new Rapier is not so much bad as it
is simply limited.

The magazine opens, as always, with
Spectator, a collection of quasi-humorous
overwritten short antedotes. This section of
the magazine suffers most from the
unpleasant deja-vu feeling; it's efforts to
emulate The New Yorker's "Talk of the
Town" have simply not made it, mostly
because the long lead time required to put
the magazine together prevent anything
relevant from being included.

The first article is Tim Evans' postmortem
observations on "Morrison in
Miami," (where Door's lead singer Jim
Morrison was made a felonious enemy of
the Site of Florida for allegedly pulling
down his pants and masturbating during a
Doors concert in Miami). Mr. Evans (the
heir-apparent to the Rapier editorship), uses
the episode as a base for a somewhat
overlong discussion of morals, decency, old
people, young people, Roman Gary's The
Ski Bum, Jackie Gleason, and Anita Bryant.

The article, well-researched and well-written,
is unfortunately only an erudite
statement of the obvious. Either one is for
censorship or one is not; this article will not
convince anybody to believe other than he
already does. Further, in Mr. Evans' defense
of Morrison, he tends to get somewhat
carried away. Calling Morrison's masturbation
(in front of an audience of largely
junior high school students) "the use of a
poetic and theatrical style" is somewhere on
the euphemistic side of the absurd. Further,
the event happened almost three months
ago; if one is a Doors student, one would
already be familiar with the event and
ramifications which Mr. Evans painstakingly
spells out; if one is not a Doors fan, one
won't much care.

Tim Evans is a most competent rock
critic. It's too bad that for this issue he had
to get hung up on moral judgments that are
impossible to resolve.

Next comes an article by Anne Jenkins
on the Pillsbury Bakeoff as an instrument of
the capitalist conspiracy. The Rape of
Edible Food, as her essay is called, vacillates
between being humoungously clever and
resembling SDS 'stamp out the system'
literature.

One of the high points of the new Rapier
is a poem by Robert Paviour, the Jeremiad
of Jolly John. The imaginative narrative is a
good deal of fun to read, and an intriguing
puzzle to figure out. Most absurdesque
poetry turns into blatant failures, but this
one avoids that trauma. The layout on the
poem is especially interesting.

John McVeigh's article "Hitler: Soldier
of Peace" would probably come off better if
it had been printed closer to the Eisenhower
funeral, which it satirizes. The story is in
questionable taste, but is excellent satire of
the wave of flagelistic nostalgia which
gripped the country after the death of
General Eisenhower.

It is an excellent commentary on those
who feel that killing is the only way to
peace; were it not for its overriding
cynicism, it would be a fantastic article. To
fully appreciate Mr. McVeigh's satire, you
should review Time Magazine's coverage of
the Eisenhower funeral before reading it.

Mr. McVeigh continues his role of
resident black humorist with his monthly
fable. This one puts down pretentious
intellectuals everywhere. The fable owes a
good deal stylistically and contextually to
the short stories of Beatle John Lennon;
although it is somewhat more comprehensible,
its attempt at the absurd is not
quite fully carried out. Still, this is
McVeigh's best fable so far.

Finally, A. T. Tappman has contributed
a non-satire called "Rosen and Guilderstein
Are Dead." The satire is mostly sophomoric,
and the story, which starts promisingly, sort
of fizzles along until it runs out.

And that's ad there is, folks. The
customary section of reviews is not there;
there are not quite enough good articles to
hide the lesser ones.

Rapier is still probably the best satire
show in town, but it could have been a lot
better if it had only been a little more
relevant and a little less obscure. It is too
bad that it must close out a most successful
year on this less than brilliant note.