Mailing List


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....

She was walking Along an almost silent lane in the city   Work – she had abandoned her work a long time ago, to walk The sky had just turned a happy black   As she walked, she mulled over two words – ‘legitimate’ and ‘illicit’ The presumption that these words were innate opposites – how totally were individuals expected to acquiesce to this! And yet the illicit held the greatest attraction for all that was legitimate   Once, in an urge to ascertain the meanings of ‘legitimate’ and ‘illicit’, she had wished for a space that was at once one of emptiness and of equilibrium, the kind of space that defied the laws of nature She had searched for such a space, but never found it   Having walked for hours, when she came to her senses she discovered herself in the lane she was in now And saw that the place was unfamiliar   The lane was narrow and deserted, with ramshackle houses on either side The bricks were exposed in the crumbling walls The windowpanes were broken, and dirty water dripped from the pipes Sucking out all the life force from this water, a banyan sapling had begun to rear its head There were three or four antennae on the roof of every house in this lane full of potholes and crevices Thousands of crows sat on the antennas So many crows that the city would turn dark if they were all to spread their wings simultaneously   Only a handful of rickshaws rattled by, some pulled by hand, some with pedals There was the odd passer-by, humming, cigarette tip glowing A dog whined at the sight of one of them She was about mid-way down the lane when it was abruptly plunged into impenetrable darkness A power cut had swooped down like a black panther, gobbling up the lane Everything was annihilated by the killer paw of darkness   She couldn’t decide what to do Carry on? Go back? Both options appeared equally futile She sensed the blindness even within her consciousness   Surprised by her awareness of the extreme silence all round, a strange touch against her lips caused her

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

feature

Issue No. 20

From a Cuban Notebook

J. S. Tennant

feature

Issue No. 20

Beneath the rain, beneath the smell, beneath all that is a reality a people makes and unmakes itself leaving...

fiction

Issue No. 9

Pulitzer Prize-Winning Author James Murphy's Notes on Nicola Morelli Berengo

Francesco Pacifico

TR. Livia Franchini

fiction

Issue No. 9

Biography | Cattolicissimo trio composed of mother father beloved son. God, why doesn’t the English language have an equivalent...

fiction

Issue No. 2

Cafédämmerung

Joshua Cohen

fiction

Issue No. 2

It was even worse in Prague [than in Cuba]. The only reason they got upset with me — I was...

 

Get our newsletter

 

* indicates required