|
Welcome to the first edition of this magazine
created to promote New Zealand and South Pacific arts to the
world. Many of the writers/artists in this issue have access to email, but aren't necessarily au fait with writing for the World Wide Web. Nevertheless, much of this writing conjures the power of hypertext to cast images and ideas contained in the works onto the screens and into the imaginations of readers. The links within these creations are to more creations that are enlivened by the association with the original work. Hypertext poetry and fiction can work in many ways. Links can come at the end of a piece and compel the reader to move on to the next section; they can be a link to a new work; they can be a creator's note; they can, in other words, reflect the work of the creator as a mode of thought - flitting back and forth, or onward, jumping from connection to connection.
In future issues we hope to present you with
a wide range of writers from the region - no different from any
other regional literary journal, except that the medium makes
a difference. However, the medium isn't
the message. Those writers familiar with the new format are of
course welcome to make suggestions about the visual layout of
their work. Writers who don't wish to rely on the html formatting
can submit works without any hypertext links - suggested or provided
- and we will publish their work in the original format with the
default background lay-out for that issue of Trout. This
issue has a light grey paper background.
New home pages are being created every day
on the World Wide Web. While we don't claim to be experts on every
aspect of html or java script, we are keeping our eyes out around
the globe for the latest techniques in formatting which we could
use to enhance the presentation of fiction and poetry. In this
visual world, where the moving image has become the cultural lingua
franca for so many, html presents a fight-back for text-based
literature.
Like Tony, I take no credit for the name Trout
- although I liked it when I heard it. My favourite piece of classical
music is Schubert's Trout quintet. I like the posture of
an angler, up to one's thighs in rubber, waving a stick with a
fake fly to catch one of the beauties of the fresh water world
- I like to think if I caught one that I'd throw it back. It would
be a battle with my very powerful stomach, however. I've seen
many documentaries with trout on their homeward mating journey,
travelling thousands of miles to spawn and die - in a way, this
poetry will be travelling thousands of miles too, to join with
readers around the globe, originating from a slip of land itself
surrounded in all directions by thousands of square miles of salt
water.
This is an opportunity to talk about scope,
and the limitations of on-line living in New Zealand. We've established
this magazine to celebrate the writing and visual arts of New Zealand and the
South Pacific, hence we will only take contributions from people
living in the countries of the South Pacific, who provide us with
material written in English or with the original text and an English
translation. We will also take contributions from expatriates
outside of the region. Since New Zealand does not have great band
width, we will not be able to accept large image or sound files,
or any video files. The peculiarities of New Zealand's on-line
charging regime means that anyone who views our site incurs a
small cost for us. The larger the files on our site, the
greater the cost to us, and our sponsors, the Trout providers.
Small image and sound files are acceptable.
We hope you enjoy this initial offering from
Aotearoa (New Zealand) and the South Pacific. These are just some
of the voices and images of our arts, while this is only the first
Trout.
Robert Sullivan
|
