I Hate This Part of Texas #7/Keep Loving Keep Fighting #7

I Hate This Part of Texas #7/Keep Loving Keep Fighting #7

by Hope Amico and John Gerken

Hope and John team up on this split zine reflecting on hurricane Katrina. Both long-time New Orleans residents, each has to come to terms with loss in their own way. John evacuates, travels, and returns, while Hope stays, applies to school, works, and lives on as best she can. Both Hope and John take their time here, and present a somber account of life after a natural disaster. Their words embody what it means to be human, each story picking up another piece, and slowly putting their world back together.

 
 

Comments

Razorcake 11/1/2009

"This is sort of a split zine, but not entirely. Each author writes pieces and they’re interspersed throughout. Each author signifies their particular pieces with their own handwritten titles. Both live in New Orleans and the vast majority of this goes from September 2005 through spring of 2007. The writing is excellent, poignant, and occasionally hard to bear because of the level of despair and frustration felt by the authors in the post-Katrina aftermath. This is further compounded by the rise in crime and the loss of their friend to random violence. Perhaps other zinesters have already written up their experiences of life in New Orleans after the levees broke, but I haven’t read it. And in the back of my mind I had thought it would be cool to read what a zinester would say about that event. Hope and John have done a great job here."

Feminist Review

"... this zine offers the kind of material and insight needed is we as a community are to make ourselves available to the psychic dealing and repair so lost to the Gulf Coast and its fighting residents ... Deeply honest, the zine unflinchingly details the fears and anxieties of upheaval, intermittent alcoholism, things to be grateful for, resentment, and displacement ... The love and fervor written in the pages of this zine are a small miracle of words that do not die, but lay to rest - breathe. This work embodies the fullness of survival and dedication, an imperative read if the feeling that ought to end up lain in the dirt - isolation, despair, alienation - may seed and flower into hope and continuity."