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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

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

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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. ...

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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...

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No Holds Barred

poetry

August 2016

Rodrigo Rey Rosa

TR. Brian Hagenbuch

poetry

August 2016

Hello. Dr Rivers’ clinic? Thank you. Yes. Yes, doctor, I would like to be your patient. With your permission, of course. No. It was...

fiction

April 2012

They Told the Story from the Lighthouse

Chimene Suleyman

fiction

April 2012

I found Margate watching the sea. And I walked the streets thinking they had left it sometime in the...

fiction

June 2013

What We Did After We Lost 100 Years' Wealth in 24 Months

Agri Ismaïl

fiction

June 2013

‘World finance had, in 2008, a near-death experience.’   The words belong to a partner of a renowned international...

poetry

September 2012

Crossing Over

Eleanor Rees

poetry

September 2012

As he sails the coracle of willow and skins his bird eyes mirror the moon behind cloud. Spring tide...

 

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