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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....

VISA GODS   In this story, Eurydice is dark & deadly & has lived all her life in Hades In this story, Orpheus plays the drums   A semester-at-sea program  Tamil refugee solidarity group makes them meet Orpheus is ensnared watching the way she talks with her hands and laughs with her eyes and speaks with an accent he has never taken to bed Skin sun-kissed as cinnamon stick, long hair that anchors storms, a mouth filled with the coarsest curses on land Gossip says it was the spice in her meals, it may well have been the sex   For the sake of this story, Orpheus has to bring her into the first world In his contract with the overlords there’s no clause about looking back, about trust, about hearing the footsteps of the loved one before walking ahead— that is not a white people thing at all   Here, Orpheus must leave Eurydice must follow   In other words, Eurydice, to smuggle their love, must screw her way into Europe   Eurydice must cross the seas, pass through border controls, fight for a Schengen, chant prayers for her visa, borrow recklessly with her bank, get her passport stamped She must do this six hundred times over a lifetime   Hostage to nation-state, our man Orpheus must wait, must will himself to live for a woman who weeps when she is away, weeps when it’s time to leave, weeps when she cannot come, who weeps in his arms because their love story is not in their hands   Orpheus no longer plays the drums   Now, there is no music in his life— only the silence at parting, the white noise of waiting     A CAT CLOSING HER EYES   Poonai kanmoodi kondaal, Poolokam irundu vidaathu When a cat shuts its eyes, the world does not turn dark   It is said that mothers have a proverb for every occasion— amma recycled the same one to see me through everything   To tackle my teenage tantrums Poonai kanmoodi kondaal Your sulking does not affect me, girl!   To combat my depression Poonai kanmoodi kondaal Just stop wallowing in your sorrows, girl!   To stop me giving up Poonai kanmoodi kondaal The world will move on without you, girl!   Most of all, to put me together, heartbreak after heartbreak Poonai kanmoodi kondaal He doesn’t see you, girl, you are beautiful, men will find you, and you will find love!     INDIA IS MY COUNTRY   Like the fascist who led us to this ruin, death has also learnt to wear a different disguise these days   No heavy as sorrow

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...

READ NEXT

poetry

April 2017

The Village

Mona Arshi

poetry

April 2017

                                 When I pronounce...

fiction

August 2017

Lengths

Matthew Perkins

fiction

August 2017

1   I sat at the kitchen table while Valentine prepared cups of flowery, smoky loose leaf tea. Antoine...

feature

May 2012

Film: Palestine Festival of Literature

Omar Robert Hamilton

feature

May 2012

Resistance needs to be recorded. Resistance needs symbols: ideas that can travel faster than speech, last longer than memory....

 

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