Latest Issue

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

BUY NOW
£14.99

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

UPCOMING

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. ...

INFO

Mailing List

Sign-up here for news, events, promotions, etc.

Michael Earl Craig
Michael Earl Craig is an American poet from Livingston, Montana. He is the author of Can You Relax in My House, Yes, Master, and Thin Kimono.

Articles Available Online
The Cinematographer, a 42-year-old man named Miyagawa, aimed his camera directly at the sun, which at first probably seemed like a bad idea

poetry

September 2011

Michael Earl Craig

poetry

September 2011

Last night Kurosawa’s woodcutter strode through the forest, his axe on his shoulder. Intense sunlight stabbed and sparkled and was generally dazzling.   A...
Sleepwalking through the Mekong

poetry

September 2011

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 know the banana shake when...

READ NEXT
Uneasy Lies the Head

feature

June 2015

William Watkin

feature

June 2015

Last October I was standing in my kitchen, waiting for espresso to trickle from the spout of our imposing machine. I kept glancing out...

feature

November 2016

Hot Rocks

Izabella Scott

feature

November 2016

‘We have received around 150 of them,’ Massimo Osanna tells me, as we peer into four small crates stuffed...

Interview

Issue No. 5

Interview with Ivan Vladislavić

Jan Steyn

Interview

Issue No. 5

Ivan Vladislavić is one of a handful of writers working in South Africa after apartheid whose work will still...

poetry

July 2012

Fig-tree

John Clegg

poetry

July 2012

He trepans with the blunt screwdriver on his penknife: unripe figs require the touch of air on flesh to...

 

Get our newsletter

Sign up for news, events, and exclusive content

 

* indicates required