The Idealist
Grumpy. That is how I would describe The Idealist, which is ironic given its name. The experience of reading it ages you a few years. You can tell from the very first page the editor, William Beaumont, is in a serious man huff. But it’s OK because he knows it.
“My cynicism is holding me back and it has been for a while.” He speaks like this is a condition, a Harry Potter hating affliction he has been burdened with since birth.
Until page 12 of The Idealist, I imagined Will as a militant supporter of tweed. His articles are angry and he hates trains. He could easily be a young, staunch Yorkshire man. But suddenly a chunk of photography appears which screams hipster.
Compared with the rest of the magazine, which is generally quite funny (particularly an article titled The X Factor & Islamic Fundamentalism) it sticks out as a cliché. I’m no photography expert but the ‘Beautiful people in ugly places’ thing just doesn’t work for me.
The magazine is impressive considering Will is a recent graduate. The writing is smooth and it’s pleasant to read but at the moment it needs more of an identity and this is something that will come with time. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, of course, even the finest of wines need time to mature.
