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Rosanna Mclaughlin
Rosanna Mclaughlin is an editor at The White Review.

Articles Available Online


The Pious and the Pommery

Essay

Issue No. 18

Rosanna Mclaughlin

Essay

Issue No. 18

I.   Where is the champagne? On second thoughts this is not entirely the right question. The champagne is in the ice trough, on...

Essay

April 2019

Ariana and the Lesbian Narcissus

Rosanna Mclaughlin

Essay

April 2019

‘Avoid me not!’ ‘Avoid me not!’                                   Narcissus   Let me describe a GIF I’ve been watching. A lot....

Rain falling onto thick layers of accumulated dust had left the windows of the criminal investigations office so mottled that they were virtually opaque Beyond them, roofs could dimly be seen, huddled grimly beneath a lowering city sky When the Dongbu Police Station had first moved here, some two years before, the location had been nothing more than a hill on the city outskirts, in an area recently zoned for development Then houses had begun to spring up, and now the area was completely built up As he contemplated the brightly colored roofs, aligned in a variety of shapes that seemed to suggest their owners’ vain fondness for things western, or their pretentiousness, Sergeant Nam fell into the state of melancholy, as was nowadays almost habitual for him The fact that he owned no home of his own among all those many houses stretching before his eyes, where his wife and children might live and take their ease, kindled in him a deep sense of failure As he recalled the two little rented rooms he would return to after work, unless something unexpected occurred, Sergeant Nam reviewed glumly his career, over which a dark sense of impending failure loomed Nam Gyeongho was his name, born in 1945 His parents had been ordinary, run-of-the-mill folk but, since they had experienced the almost universal poverty of the 1950s, his childhood had been subject to the average degree of misery that other children of his age had had to endure His middle and high school years, spent in a small country town, had left no memories, sad or happy As he neared the end of his high-school education, there had arisen a growing lack of proportion between their limited financial resources and the enthusiasm for further education that his parents were beginning to manifest That finally took him away from their small town and turned him into a student enrolled in evening classes at a second-rate university in this city, for a course of study he had finally given up half way through  

Contributor

July 2016

Rosanna Mclaughlin

Contributor

July 2016

Rosanna Mclaughlin is an editor at The White Review.

Ten Years at Garage Moscow

Art Review

November 2018

Rosanna Mclaughlin

Art Review

November 2018

When I arrive in Moscow, I am picked up from the airport by Roman, a patriotic taxi driver sent to collect me courtesy of...
Becoming Alice Neel

Art

August 2017

Rosanna Mclaughlin

Art

August 2017

From the first time I saw Alice Neel’s portraits, I wanted to see the world as she did. Neel was the Matisse of the...

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poetry

December 2011

Return After Earthquake

Jeffrey Angles

poetry

December 2011

although left for months my house is still standing here on terra firma branches broken by snow fallen into...

fiction

Issue No. 19

Once Sublime

Virginie Despentes

TR. Frank Wynne

fiction

Issue No. 19

The music is sick! This guy’s a genius. Always trust Gaëlle. When they first saw him, everyone thought who...

poetry

December 2016

Of all those pasts

Will Harris

poetry

December 2016

  In Derrida’s Memoires: For Paul de Man he quotes from ‘Mnemosyne’, a poem by Friedrich Hölderlin which he...

 

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