The Large Door, or What I found in Amsterdam

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My second novel, The Large Door, is published by Boiler House Press in Norwich, as part of their debut full-length fiction list, which also includes books by Ruby Cowling, Ben Borek and Henrietta Rose-Innes.

The Large Door is a sad comedy of language and desire that grew out of a collision between an earlier published short story (‘Festschrift’, in Gorse) and Brigid Brophy’s novel The Snow Ball. I wrote more about the book’s beginnings and inception in a blog post here.

Thus far, and happily, the reviews have been overwhelmingly positive:

The Large Door is a haunting work, charged with wistful possibilities of what might have been […] It is poised, suspenseful and enigmatic, with a hint of brute eroticism. More than that, it has heart.” – Andrew Dickson, in The Financial Times.

“Speaking, touching, looking, moving, texting, hiding: these form Gibbs’s toolkit as he examines the ways in which we communicate – and avoid communicating – with one another […] The Large Door has echoes throughout of Saul Bellow’s famous line that “Death is the dark backing that a mirror needs if we are to see anything.” But it is also very, very funny – Gibbs doesn’t miss the chance for a bit of campus-novel preposterousness. I can’t think of many authors who are capable of doing so many things so well, all at once.” – Chris Deerin, in The Big Issue.

Kate McLoughlin, as you’d hope for in a reviewer for the Times Literary Supplement, appreciated the academic setting, and even picked up on the way that the subjunctive mood colours the novel:

In his new novel, The Large Door, Jonathan Gibbs captures the academic conference universe to perfection, right down to the canapés, the eye-glazing, colon-punctuated paper titles and the corrosive gossip. […] Inevitably, given that the conference is an assembly of language experts, communication is messy and misfires. The same can’t be said of Gibbs’s prose. The fiction is at one beautifully controlled and acrobatic, and, as in Randall, one always has the sense that a wry intelligence is at work.

Then Daniel Davis Wood, on This is Splice, gave it the full analytic treatment: an LRB-style 4,000-worder:

“When The Large Door is set beside the monumental Randall, I imagine there will be an inclination for some readers to diminish its lasting value, to conceive of it as chamber music within earshot of a symphony. In a certain sense it may be so, and ultimately I do still feel that Randall is the better novel, but when I take pause and think twice, there’s a thought I keep coming back to. It’s this: if there’s a sense of achievement to a novel like Randall, given that it amply delivers on its promise of sprawling iconoclasm, there’s a similar sense to The Large Door, given the way it purports to offer pleasures of a more restrained sort and yet manages to invest them with unexpected depths of significance. Like the painting Jenny admires, its meaning overflows the limitations of its form. Despite its slimness, to look up from its pages and away from its words is to find oneself looking at a world that still bears the impression of its questions.” – Satire, Opening onto Sincerity

It is, frankly, wonderful to read such an incisive and generous response to my book. There are spoilers of sorts in the review, but I wouldn’t won’t to stop anybody reading it.

(Nina Allen wrote an interesting response to Daniel’s piece here.)

Here are some other things people have said about it:

Clever and seductive, The Large Door blends all the ambiguity of a classic Dutch interior painting with contemporary academic bitchery and a very real, and human, quest for love. To read it is like looking into a convex mirror of challenging and constantly changing perspectives. – Catherine Taylor, writer and critic

An absorbing and deeply satisfying book. It captures what it’s like to feel adrift, confused, and panicked at a hinge moment in life; it also evokes the pain and melancholy that can accompany desire. All this in prose that is brisk, gleaming, and precise. Utterly compelling. – Katherine Angel, author of Unmastered, A Book on Desire, Most Difficult to Tell

I’ve read The Large Door book slowly, and with sustained admiration. It extends the reach of the university novel into new and unsettling territory. The men and women alike are terribly well drawn. Gibbs has achieved that special kind of flexible and transparent hermaphroditism one so wants both as a novelist and as a reader. To be able to inhabit different genders without identifying with them is always the aim of sympathetic observation and social comedy. The novel is very melancholic and touching, but the emotion floats; we never wallow in distress. Somehow, perhaps because the sensuousness of the writing is so lightly-worn, we’re buoyed up in their midst. – Will Eaves, author of Murmur.

A compelling novel in which forensic social observation merges with an ingenious exploration of contemporary ideas and theories. – Richard Beard, author of Acts of the Assassins

We had launches of the Boiler House fiction list in Norwich and London. Here we all are.

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Nathan Hamilton (ed), me, Henrietta Rose-Innes, Philip Langeskov (ed), Ruby Cowling, Ben Borek

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