Goatsong

by Phoebe Giannisi, Brian Sneeden (translator)

The ancient Greek word for tragedy (τραγωδία) is a compound of goat (τράγος) and song (ᾠδή). In Phoebe Giannisi's Goatsong, the seam that connects human and animal, myths and history, is the body.

In Giannisi's language, life obeys myth. A man places a screaming cicada in his mouth, reminding us of a scene from Plato's Phaedrus, where Socrates claims cicadas to have been humans who became entranced by the invention of singing, and didn't stop to eat or drink. When the goddess Thetis dips her newborn son, Achilles, into the River Styx to protect all but his famous heel where her hand grips, we're told 'the place of the mother's grip / is the mark of death.' Adjacent to the mythical setting is the material, where the rumination of goats, their digestive cycle – chewing, swallowing, then recalling food back into the mouth to be reconsidered – begins after weaning, and is lain alongside how we 'from the moment of separation / from the mother / they ruminate.' In these lyric enactments, all is transformative and transformed; territories of land, the body and history are blurred, and nothing is still.

From Homer to Donna Haraway, Derrida to state archives, klephtic ballads and rebetiko, to Parmenides and Giannisi's dog, Ivan, the many human and animal voices of Goatsong form an incantatory lyricism and layered engagement unique in literature.

Genres: Poetry

266 pages, Kindle Edition

Published November 6, 2025

Reviews

[vasiliki ˖ ࣪⊹]

4.5 ⭐️⭐️⭐️

φοίβη…νομίζω ότι πρέπει να μιλήσουμε πραγματικά… η έμπνευση που μου έδωσες…

——

**stellar favorites:

(Lotus-eaters I)

(Lotus-eaters II)

(Leukothea)

(Thetis)

(Sirens I)

(Ithaka II)

(The Ravenous)

(Episode III)

(Nostos V)

(Penelope III)

(Orpheus)

all of them at this point…

——

“a wave has washed up a woman’s purse / stone chapel / among the offerings a photograph of a celebration”

“even when the goal is the end / the cleanness of the stars haunts you / their repeating shine”

“at the dock two men are beating octopus / and the umbrellas cast shade only on the sand”

“the soul stretches / can’t recall / it is inside itself inside its own body”

“instead of going back into the church / again and again searching / through the red candles the deep pulse of the organ”

“is it that language follows longing / or is it longing that’s inspired by language?”

[Goodreeds User]

Like sitting outside on a hot summer's day, while someone repeatedly throws cups of water at your face

[Amanda Rosso]

Powerful, moving, deeply interesting and experimental. A little uneven at times, some of the poems truly shines, other are probably better received as performances, in a different context.

As a reader, I would have appreciated some notes or paratexts on certain portions of the collection, which would have indubitably benefitted from some context and secondary literature.

Nonetheless, I have enjoyed the collection quite a lot, especially the interesting exchange with the ultimate Greek poetic tradition, and the "role play" withing in, in dialogue, as a female poet, to some of the most misunderstood female characters of the Homeric oeuvre.

[Christopher Walthorne]

A very mediocre collection of poems reworked from Greek tragedy. It lacks both the power and the linguistic brilliance of the classics it’s based off, and whilst the author plays about with form these experiments don’t really add anything. Ultimately this is a disappointing and, quite frankly, boring work.

[Philip Coulter]

Uneven in places but interesting enough that I will return to it.
Plenty of highlights during the first two books. The last book, Chimera, was quite hard going during the dialogue portions.

[Marnie S]

Ridiculously beautiful

[phoebe]

Sooooooo gorgeous. I didn’t think I liked poetry but I loved this!!!

[Juliano]

“Inside these articulations / the beginnings of language / outside of yes and no / inside only the I want / the soul with the body meeting / in all the openly / meteoric leaves / and now, see: / one of them falls slowly / to the earth”. I loved everything about Phoebe Giannisi’s excellent Goatsong, which brings together three of her poetry collections (Homerica, Cicadas, and Chimera), as translated from the Greek by Brian Sneeden. In the first set of poems, talking back to the epics of Homer, we see that “life / plays other tricks time never repeats itself / the body knits to the soul resists / in order to forget / it remembers to continue to live”. Characters like Penelope & Patroklos come alive: “I was waiting for you / and I Patroklos / I’m speaking to you and I tell you / that you are ruthless […] Achilles / come and eat a cuttlefish / at our table / but then I want you to fuck me the way I deserve”. The poems course with ancient prophecy rendered clear and modern: “lightness lightness lightness / life is nostalgia for lightness”; “your language does not belong to me / telling the story opening your mouth”; “is it that language follows longing / or is it longing / that’s inspired by language?” Cicadas then explores nature and memory and ideas of becoming: “I wanted to be able / to become a stone / a mute stone deprived of language”. These are poems in which we see the “Cosmic monotonous song of the cicada” and “a rehearsal in light”. Finally, in the formally experimental Chimera, tensions of selves, and between ourselves and others, are elucidated so playfully and perceptively: “caring for another saves you / from your dominant self”; “Each spring I give again the burial of myself”; “how to move through the world / coherently / when all your verbs / are past tense / and the stars that you see / went out an eternity ago.” This is a stellar collection bringing an exciting voice to an English readership. Thanks to Clare at Fitzcarraldo for the advance copy - out 6th Nov!