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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).



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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...

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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....

https://soundcloudcom/user-856373367/the-rake-packs-up-his-troubles The Rake packs up his troubles in an old kit-bag and smiles, smiles, smiles   Holding things, I found, was holding me up So nowadays I’m mostly empty- handed, bearing nothing but the stitched shoulder strap to this, my dashing hell- for-leather holdall — the mark of a life spent all over These last few years or so, I’ve gathered nothing that would make it stretch or crack Nothing That’s what made it stretch and crack all over: these last few years Or so I’ve gathered, for leather holds all the marks of a life spent with shoulders strapped to this, my dashing hell Hunted, baring nothing, I’ve been stitched up so nowadays I’m mostly empty, holding things I found were holding me       https://soundcloudcom/user-856373367/the-rake-invites-you-to-the-weepies The Rake invites you to the weepies   Don’t be lugubrious, my newest friend Bite lugubrious Roll it around, and roll around in it  Take a dive in its lubricious, bleak lagoon, lukewarm and wallowsome Drink deep and swoon The salt will lift you like a vast and sudden futon, a waterbed, luxurious and soft and overfed, the kind they advertise   in why-oh-widescreen at the multiplex The eyeless ushers mutter unless   unless Shush The trailers are my favourite bit It’s dark in here Can you remember where we wandered in from? Good Forget about it while I brush this popcorn from your hair       https://soundcloudcom/user-856373367/the-rakes-apology The Rake’s apology   Darling, let me lay it at your feet, blinking and soft, a helpless little wolfcub huddled inside a gingham picnic-basket on a cold night, on your doorstep, the fog a clean slate, no sign of the coming flurry, the never-ending blizzard Do not worry Though it may break things, let it be your dog Snowed in, you’ll feed it steak tartare and brisket, its licked-clean bowl the colour of false love, of the ice outside the window, of its teeth

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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Prize Entry

April 2015

Every Woman to the Rope

Joanna Quinn

Prize Entry

April 2015

My father believed the sea to be covetous: a pleading dog that would lap at you adoringly, sidling up...

Art

May 2014

The Interzone and Dexter Dalwood

Sarah Hegenbart

Dexter Dalwood

Art

May 2014

‘Burroughs in Tangier’ (2005) has captivated me ever since its display in the 2010 Turner Prize Exhibition. The work...

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Issue No. 1

On the Notoriously Overrated Powers of Voice in Fiction or How To Fail At Talking To Pretty Girls

D. W. Wilson

feature

Issue No. 1

On a Tuesday afternoon in July, not too long ago, a friend of mine struck a pose imitating a...

 

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