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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....

At the Konditorei   Close, warm, and humming with the relaxed sounds of post- midday Kaffee-Kuchen The  cakes are modestly presented in a glass cabinet: stripes of sponge alternate with chocolate cream; globes of mango gleam on mousse Oblongs of raspberry and banana jelly Older couples sit at round tables, sip kaffee and lift cake-cream inch-by-inch to mouths They’re conscious not to eat too quickly, so as to avoid nausea, and ensure instead continued pure delight A little nothing, pleasant chat; a few read the papers   Our protagonist has the table by the window, hung with a doily curtain There’s a cigarette smoking itself out in his thrown- away left hand; his closed right one rests on the open pages of an empty notepad                             See (1)   Florian was walking with his schnauzer, Bernie, along the far shore of the See He preferred this less trodden, further side because it meant he had a good view of the town, busy and self-important on that nearer side And he liked being closer to the great faces of mountains, which jacked themselves right up hard, grey and granular, above all the people’s things and houses   His head was clear and only had in it air, Bernie running and her fetching the next stick, and the soft-firm earth and grass under their feet   They stopped on the path to look over the See Its surface was soft as a lady’s undergarment You could place your finger in its surface and feel it drop under, without resistance Today’s winter water had black, mirrored surfaces; nothing could be seen beneath them   Then Florian’s eye settles on something, as a fisherman focuses on the red point at the end of his line in the water His eyes are drawing an outline – round the objects he can see They are – this shape – like this – two rectangles bobbing among some dead black stalks The black of the rectangles is greyer than the See’s black Their sheen is harder than the water’s; more moulded, less easy to penetrate                                 At the Pension   The protagonist arrives at the pension This is situated in the village adjoining the town, where slopes are levelled in tiers to make space for the houses There are broad,

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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Interview

July 2012

Interview with David Harvey

Matt Mahon

Interview

July 2012

David Harvey is rare among Left academics: his work is as much appreciated by anarchists and the Occupy movement...

fiction

April 2014

Biophile

Ruby Cowling

fiction

April 2014

– I’m down maybe five feet. I take a moment to thank the leaf-filled rectangle of sky, and with...

Art

November 2016

The Green Ray

Agnieszka Gratza

Art

November 2016

I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green stuff woven. Walt Whitman, Leaves...

 

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