The Minetta Review’s Fall 2012 issue, (re)awakening, is accessible through the Issuu service. Click here to read!
The flint first sparked on a Thursday in Greenwich Village, out in the quiet-too-quiet that knocks at three in the morning. Conscious suddenly of the asphalt beneath my feet, of how little I knew about its name—the name of this lane, the street, the theater, the tavern, the garage, the square, the triangle, the publication for which I’m composing this note—I looked up at the street sign. “Hold up. What the fuck.. is a minetta?”
My search for an answer began in our Publication Lab, where I hoped to unlock a passageway into some telling repository by shifting objects in various sequences.
When I found out that, one building over, there really was such a thing—the University Archives—I dragged the previous editor Emily to the tenth floor of Bobst Library. A graduate student answered the doorbell and led us down a corridor lined with shelves of historical records. After submitting a request to access the Minetta Review archive, we found ourselves seated in a reading area among weathered statues, architectural models, and cabinets of artifacts. My focus came to a copper bust, whose verdigrised left eye consigned me to a stupor. All of eternity, contracted to an instant, elapsed before I broke the hold—maybe only a minute had elapsed, but I couldn’t be sure: the grandfather clock in the corner insisted that it was always 6:20.
As I raised an eyebrow to a preserved cigarette-butt receptacle, the first of three archival cartons was presented to us, and our fingers flipped gently through everyMinetta Review ever published. Within the inaugural 1974 issue, we stumbled upon our creation story and an answer to the question, “What the fuck is a minetta?” Now, if we were face-to-face, you might ask, “But, Josh. Don’t you suppose a Google search might have done the trick?” Um.
Not since the 2009 Dinosaur edition had the Review given its readership a themed issue, but our prose editor Diana suggested that a theme should come of the rediscovery. And now, this assemblage of writing and artwork is sent forth under an ambitious banner: (re)awakening. This issue marks the spirit of exhuming the Minetta corpus and brings some New York City history back to life. You’ll find Greenwich Village archival pieces, an essay that recounts the awakening of sexual discourse, another that tackles the awakening of social media, a collection of illustrations that bring us to the moments before bedtime, and excerpts that herald the opening of our submissions inbox to playwrights. We didn’t require all contributors to submit according to the theme, but I’m sure that, with enough stretching, all the content exhibits a hint of the appropriate subtext.
As are most other Minetta issues, what you hold in your hands is an intermingling of New York University students and those situated beyond the hipster bubble. It is a selection of both seasoned artists and tomorrow’s writers. I pray that somewhere in these pages lies enough verve to ignite within you a quiet brightness. In defiance of continual grogginess, here’s to breathing anew and—whether by emotional endurance, by setting your alarm, by hopping on one foot, or by the propulsion system of your superhero outfit—to facing all the gravity that Fortune puts before us. Regain consciousness, stretch a bit, and come out into the atmosphere.
Dearest writers, artists, and readers,
Under the Fall 2012 editorial board, Minetta carried through with its most extensive marketing effort yet. Over the summer months and throughout the fall reading period, we reached out to writers and readers by way of: campus bulletins and mailing lists; distribution at bookshops in Greenwich Village; online calls for submissions on Winning Writers, Duotrope, Lambda Literary, UPenn, and Tumblr; content solicitations for literary criticism, NYU dramatic writing, NYU MFA studio art, and archival material; and renovation of the Minetta WordPress.
With respect to the inboxes of previous issues, the Fall 2012 issue was the most selective, with the editors reviewing more than triple the average number of submissions. Given the nature of the issue’s submissions and content solicitations, we produced the largest Minetta ever released: 128 pages, sent forth under the ambitious banner of (re)awakening.
The Fall 2012 Open Mic, presented by Minetta Review and Rubin Residence Hall’s Pria Shah, was more beautiful than I could have ever imagined. On November 29 at Rubin’s Blackbox Theater, over fifty people gathered to enjoy what became two hours of student performances. Check out the event pictures that Pria took, hear what one NYU student had to say about it, and stay tuned for Minetta’s Spring 2013 events.
On behalf of the editorial board and publication staff, I’d like to thank all who’ve submitted, everyone who takes the time to go through our selections, and those who’ve helped Minetta get around. I’m sincerely grateful for your readership, which brings so much meaning to the work we do.