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an image of Issue 33 of The White Review, featuring three film stills of swimmers in goggles and caps in dark water

The White Review
No. 33

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The White Review No. 33 features interviews with writer Siri Hustvedt and feminist scholar Sara Ahmed. The issue includes new fiction by Gina Apostol,...

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Prize Entry

The White Review Poet’s Prize 2023
For the first time this year, The White Review Poet’s Prize was open to poets based anywhere in the world. Last month we announced a shortlist of eight poets. ...

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Lucy Mercer
Lucy Mercer is a writer living in London. Her poems have been published widely in magazines and anthologies, and she was awarded the inaugural White Review Poet's Prize.

Articles Available Online
Peter Gizzi’s ‘Sky Burial: New & Selected Poems’

Book Review

August 2020

Lucy Mercer

Book Review

August 2020

Described by its publisher as a ‘generous selection’, Peter Gizzi’s Sky Burial: New & Selected Poems (Carcanet, 2019) is more of a waterfall or a...
I forget       some days in Helepolis –  chapelles          of blue peaches         call the foam-line   ‘Men of Rome’ my wheel emits uncertain as gaspereau    
Dream Houses

Prize Winner

November 2017

Lucy Mercer

READ NEXT
Interview with Han Kang

Interview

March 2016

TR. Deborah Smith

Sarah Shin

Interview

March 2016

Han Kang is a disquieting storyteller who leads the reader into the very heart of human experience, where the singular crosses the universal. Author of...

Interview

November 2016

Interview with Njideka Akunyili Crosby

Cassie Davies

Interview

November 2016

Njideka Akunyili Crosby first encountered Mary Louise Pratt’s ‘Arts of the Contact Zone’ (1991), which identifies ‘social spaces where cultures meet,...

fiction

September 2015

The Afternoon

Wolfgang Hilbig

TR. Isabel Fargo Cole

fiction

September 2015

Nothing new on Bahnhofstrasse! — These are the first words to occur to me upon arrival. With the word...

poetry

September 2011

Sleepwalking through the Mekong

Michael Earl Craig

poetry

September 2011

I have my hands out in front of me. I’m lightly patting down everything I come across. I somehow...

 

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