Zines have a broad history ranging from science fiction fan magazines and art portfolios to political manifestos and subcultural culture magazines. Zine is an abbreviation of an abbreviation; zine is short for “fanzine” and the term fanzine is a shortened version of fan magazine. A zine can be nearly anything you want it to be, serious or absurd, and is best defined by its DIY nature and its tendency to represent underrepresented communities.
Due to zine’s broad definition, their origin is difficult to track. The 1930s publication “The Comet,” a science fiction fan magazine, is considered the first zine by some. However, the “little magazines” of the Harlem Renaissance — like “The Messenger” and “Fire!!” — have also been recognized as zines and predate “The Comet” by years. The little magazines held the writing and art of Black creators and offered critiques of mainstream white culture. Additionally, some political pamphlets dating as far back as the 18th century have also been argued to be zines.
Some zines offer a glimpse into early fan culture in a world before the internet. Due to production costs that were cheap compared to that of mainstream publishing, zines were an easy and accessible way for fans to express themselves. Since zines create a space for specific groups to connect over the topics they enjoy, fanzines were a popular method of fan communication before the internet and were popular in the ‘30s and ‘60s.
Though zines’ confusing roots surround politics, it was in the ‘60s and ‘70s that these zines, alongside art and rock music zines, were popularized. In the ‘70s, punk zines began to pop up, and with copy machines becoming increasingly available, zine culture and punk DIY culture became increasingly intertwined.
In the ‘90s, zines gained mainstream recognition with the conception and rise of riot grrrl. Riot grrrl was (and is) a feminist punk subculture that sought to address the misogyny of the punk scene — however contended with issues of its own — and give younger women a space to express themselves and connect with each other.
The zine “Bikini Kill,” published by the members of the popular riot grrrl band Bikini Kill, was one of the earliest zines in this scene and set the stage for the themes and aesthetics of riot grrrl zines to come.
Zines carry undeniable historical importance, frequently holding records and personal accounts of issues “too taboo” for mainstream culture at the time. This is especially visible in the Harlem Renaissance’s little magazines, civil rights era zines, as well as ‘80s and ‘90s queer zines.
Drag queen Linda Simpson documented queer culture in New York in the late ‘80s and early ‘90s with the creation of her zine, “My Comrade.” The first issue of the zine — which ran 10 issues total — was published in 1987. The zine often parodied mainstream magazines and included interviews and photos, to document the New York queer scene. While “My Comrade” had a larger focus on gay men, drag queens, and to an extent, the general queer scene, the attached zine “Sister!,” which ran alongside it, focused on lesbians.
Additionally, the ‘40s saw the nine-issue run of “Vice Versa,” a lesbian fanzine and one of the earliest known queer publications. It was written by Edyth Eyde, who later wrote under the pen name “Lisa Ben” — an anagram of lesbian. It circulated in Los Angeles from June of 1947 to its final issue in February of the following year.
Zines have long given marginalized people a platform in times where that hasn’t been possible in mainstream publishing. The act of creating a zine can be an act of protest. It can go against the mainstream publishing world, meanwhile creating a space for a community to gather and talk about their experiences, and record history that is frequently overlooked while it is being made.
Zines are a testament to the experiences of historically ignored groups. “In a world with book bans, zines are a great way of spreading information and not worrying about commercial viability,” says Liz Yerby, who helps organize the Portland Zine Symposium, a yearly event that honors zines.
“A majority of people … in the zine world are trying to build their community. I don’t think they’re trying to do their art in isolation, otherwise, they would just journal and keep it to themselves,” says Ann Matsushima Chiu, a social science librarian at Reed College who also manages the Reed Zine Library, a zine archive that has been around since 2018. Matsushima Chiu describes that the Reed Zine Library “started [as] and still is a collection that’s really trying to capture zinester voices of color as a push back against the whiteness of art, the institution of Reed and also … the archive and general collection.”
Zines let an individual publish something because they think it’s important and because they’re passionate about it, not because the mainstream already knows and cares about it. “Not having to appeal to a publisher means that weirder stuff gets printed,” Yerby remarks.
Because of zines’ small publishing numbers and tendency to stay local, numerous zines have been lost to time. Luckily, zine archives have begun popping up in recent years, cataloging historically significant and current zines both digitally and in physical libraries, and as a result, these cultural snapshots can be accessed by wider audiences. There are also several collections of zines put together and published in books.
While many of the aforementioned zines can be found archived online or in libraries, and offer an interesting glimpse into history, zines are far from a dead art and can easily be found all around the world today.
Today, the zine community can connect around the globe with the internet. In Portland, Oregon, the zine community blooms. Larger zine festivals, like the yearly Portland Zine Symposium and Reed Zine Fest — the latter of which happened at the end of March — can be found easily and smaller events pop up throughout the year too. If you’re unable to find or attend events in person, a community of zinesters around the world thrives online, and for Franklin students, you can find a small collection of zines in our library.
“The conversation [that] often comes up is are zines dead … ‘oh my gosh, I just found these for the first time …’ and there’s an article every year that rediscovers zines or claims that zines are dead. And the funny thing about that is I think zines have been relatively consistent in the zine world,” says Matsushima Chiu.
Zines continue to give a voice to marginalized groups and offer a raw glimpse into the mind of the author, without the censorship of traditional publishing. They celebrate both individuality and community and continue to expand to reach different groups.
“I think zines are always made by very curious people, and while the topics have changed, I think the types of people [creating them] probably have not,” states Matsushima Chiu. While zines continue to evolve and change, the will of humankind to express themselves freely and to connect with a larger community will always persist, and zines continue to be an outstanding way to do so.
