“Kaminsky, Ilya. Deaf Republic.

Graywolf Press 2019”

This book-length collection of poetry, written by Ilya Kaminsky's, is structured as two acts of a

drama set in the fictional village of Vasenka, and progresses in darkness as the play progresses.

Petya, a deaf little child, and two puppeteers serve as the central protagonists. The town is under

military occupation at that time. It continues to follow the private lives of people of the town

who are encircled by extreme violence: a young married couple, Alfonso and Sonya, who are

expecting a baby; the brash Momma Galya, who incites the insurgency from her puppet theatre;

and Galya's daughters, who heroically teach signing by day and lure military one by one to their

mortalities behind the curtain. The story is told in three acts. Deaf Republic, Ilya Kaminsky's

long-awaited work, is at once a love tale, an elegy, and an urgent appeal. It addresses our time's

horrific acts and our common silence in the face of them, and it is a thing that ought to be seen.

Kaminsky's vocabulary is easy to understand, yet it operates on a rationale that seems like it

belongs in a separate world. It screams with a required burst of vitality. When Petya is murdered

early in the novel, a poem tells us that he was killed because he was a good person; “Our

country woke up next morning and refused to hear soldiers” When such explicit not-hearing

occurs, it is considered retribution. The inhabitants of Vasenka discover that deafness is the only

weapon they have against the invading, and they use it to their advantage.

Throughout the book, there are drawings in sign language that are interspersed. Understand the

signs for words such as "Town," "Story," "Curtain," and other common expressions. This

provides a welcome break, giving the book the appearance of being as safe as a guidebook or a

children's novel. The load of what the poems are trying to convey us is virtually lifted off our

shoulders. However, there are palmfuls of tension, as well as communal anguish and rage,

lurking beneath the surface of these paintings.

Page by page, the author weaves together voice and stillness, loss and desire, and writes what

appear to be clear truths in many cases. However, these facts are transformed into wonderful

lines portraying the dystopia by the pen of this gifted poet. Deaf Republic is clearly influenced

by the author's own narrative, which includes his early life in Odessa as well as his family's

history place against the backdrop of the former USSR. It is also influenced by his insatiable

appetite for reading, as well as his extensive knowledge and awareness of poetry from a variety

of cultural traditions. Space is skillfully manipulated throughout the story, which is broken up

between lines and poetry. We will never be able to escape the horror since it will reappear from a

different angle or on yet another page.

Despite this tragic tale of fragility and restricted rights, there is joy to be found in it. Senses are

heightened in the poetry of Sonya and Alfonso, the newlywed puppeteers, who write about "a

drop of lemon-egg shampoo, / you smell like bees, / a quick kiss" among other things. Later on,

Alfonso says, "She scrubs me until I spit soapy water out of my mouth." It gives me great joy to

be the observer of their sincere intercessions and prayers.

The sentences of Kaminsky help to create a history for this imagined hamlet and its troubled

country. Every time we turn around, we can see and feel it: "He is washing his hands, he is

putting red/ socks, He is putting his tongue where his tooth has been" or "The wind sweeps

bread from market stalls, shopkeepers spill insults, and the wind already has a bicycle between

its legs." The intangible has a physical form. When faced with a surprise, the rational becomes

image-dense.

The Deaf Republic is a tale about community and the consequences of adversity. In this new

collection, Kaminsky, who's been mainly deaf since he was four years old, transforms his

impairment into a source of power. However, the community's efforts will not be enough to
withstand the ongoing turmoil, uncertainty, and danger. Relationships begin to fracture, and

people tend to identify themselves with their own sphere of influence rather than the community.

While masterfully presenting a fictitious world, this book appears to be dangling us over the edge

of the here and now, forcing us to recognize the equal and opposing forces that show how

shattered we are and how we continue to hold on despite our circumstances. We can see

everything so clearly, even when we back away from what we can't stand to look at anymore.

These poems confer the intensity of holy drama on a secular martyrology, giving it the

appearance of sacred drama. When it comes to recurring patterns of details, Kaminsky is

exceptionally observant, which contributes to the feeling that his work is a cohesive whole rather

than merely a collection of separate poems. By placing these poems in the context of a war-torn

nation, Kaminsky pushes the reader to explore both the patterns in which we frame our social

membership and the affiliations that govern our actions.