Oh God, it’s happened! CRUX has entered the 21st century!
Surely gasps and shocks must be reverberating across the literary community: an arts journal, and a university one at that, has gone on-line! I can hear the professors on faculty muttering in their dusty offices about “giving into social media pressure” or commenting about our contribution (minor though it is) to the “death of the book” (whatever that means).
Firstly, I should say, CRUX will continue to publish real, live-and-breathing, books. We do enjoy that new-book smell and the noise of stiff bindings splitting apart for the first time. But, in putting our annually published magazines online are we (truly-and-honestly) offending the sensibilities of on-edge English majors? And are we (truly-and-honestly) contributing to the “death of the book.”
I doubt it.
If anything, CRUX’s venture into the wily Internet encourages the “book”. Okay granted, our incentive to print fewer copies than usual has dramatically increased (what do you want? printing is expensive and we’re artist). But think of it this way: not only do those that never get a hand on our limited number of printed copies finally get to appreciate the art in the magazines, but our potential readership has just exponentially increased. The same great art for even more readers! Sounds like a good deal.
What I think most people take issue against with Internet publishing is the assumed resulting decrease of literary quality. With technology that enables any basement-typing 30-year-old to publish his (or her) latest fantasy trilogy at an absurdly low cost, what English majors and tenured faculty fear is that, somehow, literature will become even more commercial and amateurly written then, supposedly, it is already. What this phobia fails to take into account, however, is the plain-and-simple fact that technology does not bequeath talent. Just because, for example, you download the latest version of “PhotoShop” doesn’t mean that you have any artistic abilities to recommend you (a truth I can personally attest to). The same it is with literature. There have always been basement-typing 30-year-olds working on their latest fantasy trilogy. And yet, though it may now be easier for him (or her) to publish, that ease does not make his (or her) work any better (or, for that matter) any worse. In fact, perhaps his (or hers) is that masterpiece that every major publishing house refuses to print and, thanks to the Internet, can now have its due forum. It’s unlikely, but I can hope, can’t I? Of course there is one final refuge because, even if the trilogy is complete and utter trash, you can always choice not to read it (and I’m sure there’s something interesting on Facebook).
We here, however, hope you don’t leave us for Facebook. We hope you enjoy the quality work we’ve been compiling for eleven years now. Because Internet or not, we remain CUA’s culmination of creativity.
So welcome to our new website!