Hands up if you subscribe to an Australian journal. Keep them up if you subscribe to more than one. More than two? If you read them? Cover to cover? Half? More than two articles an issue? Hands up if you look forward to them. Maybe it’s just me, but there’s something that makes me terribly tired when faced with the prospect of Australia’s literary and political journals. I stand in front of the (small) shelf made available for them in my local bookshop and try to muster up the enthusiasm I might feel when faced with a shelf of new books; try to feel excited at the prospect of reading them. I have a couple of subscriptions, and when they arrive, I make a point of tearing the envelope open immediately to have a look. And yet I still have to push past a barrier of resistance to sit and actually read them.

Part of the problem with these journals is that they all seem so familiar. Approaching them, we feel that we know what to expect: the same names, on the same topics, at the same pitch. Attempts are clearly being made to keep these periodicals fresh and vital, but outwardly, at the very least, it seems to be an uphill battle. And it’s a battle that we’ve seen before, many times. Familiarity breeds fatigue.

But push on through weary expectations and there is first-class reportage writing, and, more importantly, some beautiful writing within. Heat includes a couple of pieces of fiction that are surprising, refreshing, unfamiliar. Griffith Review offers a crisp vision of contemporary Australia through a series of very strong essays and articles. Island has a very nice red cover.