Deaf Republic: Poems

Born in Ukraine during the Soviet era, Kaminsky endured a childhood bout with mumps that led to a significant reduction in hearing. His family then migrated to the U.S., seeking political asylum, and the poet began composing lyrics in English, a language no one in his family could understand. These biographical facts inform Kaminsky's stunning second book, which follows the award-winning Dancing in Odessa (2004) and is arranged like a play in two acts. Kaminsky weaves together the stories of the townspeople of Vasenka after a deaf boy is killed by military personnel, and the entire town develops deafness and invents a sign language to circumvent authorities ("when patrols march, we sit on our hands"). Kaminsky introduces two central characters, Sonya and Alfonso, as soft-eyed newlyweds ("I don't know anything about you except the spray of freckles on your shoulders!"), and portrays the persistent military occupation with disorienting and dreamlike lyrics: "the crowd of women flees inside the nostrils of searchlights." The result is at once intimate and sensual but also poignant and timely, with one speaker noting, "I see the blue canary of my country / pick breadcrumbs from each citizen's eyes."--Diego Báez Copyright 2019 Booklist

Kaminsky's second collection (after 2004's Dancing in Odessa) is bookended by two poems-"We Lived Happily during the War" and "In a Time of Peace"-ostensibly set in the present and addressing a kind of public blindness to faraway events. What lies between them is a two-part drama composed of short, plainspoken lyrics that envision the military occupation of the fictional town of Vasenka. After the murder of a deaf boy in the public square, the townspeople unite under a strategy of resistance in the form of feigned deafness at any and all of the soldiers' requests. Part one follows the boy's cousin, pregnant puppeteer Sonya, and her husband, Alfonso, as they navigate the dangers of deafness and pregnancy under an increasingly belligerent force. Part two follows the owner of the puppet theater as she does the same, as well as Alfonso and Sonya's infant as she grows into a child. What results is a riveting and emotional story line with parallels to the author's life, which relies on plain spoken diction, repetition, and small moments of romantic desire to anchor its larger political themes. Moments of brilliance shine through ("Body, they blame you for all things and they/ seek in the body what does not live in the body"), though some readers may feel that the story would be better suited to the stage. (Mar.) © Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.

Kaminsky (Dancing in Odessa) has done honorable work in poetry as a collaborative translator and perhaps most visibly as the coeditor of The Ecco Anthology of International Poetry, but his poetry has not loomed large until now. Born in the former Soviet Union and himself deaf, Kaminsky has created a haunting and almost indescribable testament about some of the darkest places of the human spirit. Part closet drama, part long narrative poem, this work uses deafness and idiosyncratic sign language to convey shifting meanings of awareness, rebellion, otherness, and silence as he spins the interlocking stories of a deaf boy, a young married couple, and an intrepid middle-aged woman puppeteer, who is the incendiary force in a fitful resistance to pointless, brutal repression in an unnamed country. Kaminsky has lived in the United States long enough that his rhythms and cadences sit securely in English; many of his images are striking and memorable, although the story he tells is far from reassuring. VERDICT The product of 15 years of meditation, this chilling work-an important warning about the forces of repression and a quiet salute to the courage of the few who resist-heralds the maturity of an important voice in world poetry.-Graham Christian, formerly with Andover-Harvard Theological Lib., Cambridge, MA © Copyright 2019. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

*Starred Review* Born in Ukraine during the Soviet era, Kaminsky endured a childhood bout with mumps that led to a significant reduction in hearing. His family then migrated to the U.S., seeking political asylum, and the poet began composing lyrics in English, a language no one in his family could understand. These biographical facts inform Kaminsky's stunning second book, which follows the award-winning Dancing in Odessa (2004) and is arranged like a play in two acts. Kaminsky weaves together the stories of the townspeople of Vasenka after a deaf boy is killed by military personnel, and the entire town develops deafness and invents a sign language to circumvent authorities (when patrols march, we sit on our hands). Kaminsky introduces two central characters, Sonya and Alfonso, as soft-eyed newlyweds (I don't know anything about you—except the spray of freckles on your shoulders!), and portrays the persistent military occupation with disorienting and dreamlike lyrics: the crowd of women flees inside the nostrils of searchlights. The result is at once intimate and sensual but also poignant and timely, with one speaker noting, I see the blue canary of my country / pick breadcrumbs from each citizen's eyes. Copyright 2019 Booklist Reviews.

Kaminsky (Dancing in Odessa) has done honorable work in poetry as a collaborative translator and perhaps most visibly as the coeditor of The Ecco Anthology of International Poetry, but his poetry has not loomed large until now. Born in the former Soviet Union and himself deaf, Kaminsky has created a haunting and almost indescribable testament about some of the darkest places of the human spirit. Part closet drama, part long narrative poem, this work uses deafness and idiosyncratic sign language to convey shifting meanings of awareness, rebellion, otherness, and silence as he spins the interlocking stories of a deaf boy, a young married couple, and an intrepid middle-aged woman puppeteer, who is the incendiary force in a fitful resistance to pointless, brutal repression in an unnamed country. Kaminsky has lived in the United States long enough that his rhythms and cadences sit securely in English; many of his images are striking and memorable, although the story he tells is far from reassuring. VERDICT The product of 15 years of meditation, this chilling work—an important warning about the forces of repression and a quiet salute to the courage of the few who resist—heralds the maturity of an important voice in world poetry.—Graham Christian, formerly with Andover-Harvard Theological Lib., Cambridge, MA

Kaminsky's second collection (after 2004's Dancing in Odessa) is bookended by two poems—"We Lived Happily during the War" and "In a Time of Peace"—ostensibly set in the present and addressing a kind of public blindness to faraway events. What lies between them is a two-part drama composed of short, plainspoken lyrics that envision the military occupation of the fictional town of Vasenka. After the murder of a deaf boy in the public square, the townspeople unite under a strategy of resistance in the form of feigned deafness at any and all of the soldiers' requests. Part one follows the boy's cousin, pregnant puppeteer Sonya, and her husband, Alfonso, as they navigate the dangers of deafness and pregnancy under an increasingly belligerent force. Part two follows the owner of the puppet theater as she does the same, as well as Alfonso and Sonya's infant as she grows into a child. What results is a riveting and emotional story line with parallels to the author's life, which relies on plain spoken diction, repetition, and small moments of romantic desire to anchor its larger political themes. Moments of brilliance shine through ("Body, they blame you for all things and they/ seek in the body what does not live in the body"), though some readers may feel that the story would be better suited to the stage. (Mar.)