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Jonathan Gibbs

Jonathan Gibbs was shortlisted for the White Review Short Story Prize 2013. He has since published a novel, Randall or the Painted Grape (Galley Beggar Press).



Articles Available Online


Jessie Greengrass’s ‘Sight’

Book Review

February 2018

Jonathan Gibbs

Book Review

February 2018

Jessie Greengrass’s debut story collection caught my eye with its delightfully extravagant title, An Account of the Decline of the Great Auk, According to...

feature

May 2016

Cinema on the Page

Jonathan Gibbs

feature

May 2016

Film is a bully. It wants to make its viewers feel, and it has the tools to do so....

Ten minutes before the floodwaters arrived, Pak Prawiro died Who knows to where his soul sped off Now only his body remained by his cramped house Stretched out as though he were just sleeping Not a single soul appeared saddened by his death You have to understand, no one knew Pak Prawiro’s origins and background   Five minutes before the floodwaters arrived, a neighbour found Pak Prawiro sprawled on the ground in the cassava patch next to his house ‘Pak Prawiro fainted,’ he said to himself, before enlisting the help of another neighbor in carrying Pak Prawiro into his house ‘He’s dead,’ said yet another neighbour ‘Just check his pulse’   Sure enough, he had no pulse, his heart had stopped pumping, and his body had grown cold They laid Pak Prawiro down on the couch and covered him with a sheet, as if he were napping Someone tied a white cloth around his head so his mouth wouldn’t hang open Another closed his eyes   One minute before the floodwaters arrived, someone shouted ‘Look, the river has reached the top of the embankment!’   ‘Relax,’ another answered, ‘It never floods here The farthest it’s come is up to the road’   No one was thinking it might flood The housing complex had been built seven years ago and the river had never spilled over its banks and flooded They were still in the deceased’s house, wanting to do something for Pak Prawiro, but there was nothing else to be done   ‘The owners of the house will be back soon anyway,’ someone said   Sunset arrived The dusk sky was coloured by bright streaks of orange Office workers were heading home, passing through the neighbourhood gate one by one A yellow paper banner on a pole was fixed in front of Pak Prawiro’s house But people just kept walking by   ‘I’ll go back later,’ they thought, ‘now I’m just too tired’   To be sure, all the neighbours lived together peacefully without disturbing each another but it seemed they didn’t know one other either How could anyone know Pak Prawiro? He was just an elderly man who never talked about himself He could have been 60,

Contributor

August 2014

Jonathan Gibbs

Contributor

August 2014

Jonathan Gibbs was shortlisted for the White Review Short Story Prize 2013. He has since published a novel, Randall or...

The Story I'm Thinking Of

fiction

April 2013

Jonathan Gibbs

fiction

April 2013

There were seven of us sat around the table. Seven grown adults, sat around the table. It was late. We had eaten, and we had...

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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...

fiction

January 2015

Judge Sa’b

Uday Prakash

TR. Jason Grunebaum

fiction

January 2015

Nine years ago, after thirteen years of living in the Rohini neighbourhood of north Delhi, I moved, and came...

poetry

June 2014

Death on Rua Augusta

Tedi López Mills

TR. David Shook

poetry

June 2014

Translator’s Note Death on Rua Augusta is a book I knew I would translate before I had even finished...

 

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