Set in the immediate aftermath of 2017’s Hurricane Irma, the most catastrophic storm to strike the British Virgin Islands, Richard Georges’ Epiphaneia stands as a collection of rich, transcendental verse. Beyond the loss and devastation that such a natural disaster brings, Georges’ ideas span beyond the physical world, asking us to consider the ways in which families and communities come together amidst such tragedy. Blood runs under the earth. A father will instruct his daughter to the hills where their ancestors are buried. A flying man opens a door in the sky. Children play in the twisted roots of a landscape both dangerous and triumphant. Constantly attuned to the devastating power of nature and where the body, too, is ‘a precarious house’, these poems are hymns to the resilience of the human spirit. Georges locates in the negative space of aftermath both the ghosts of history, and the mythic beginnings of a yet unlived, rejuvenated world.
Richard Georges is a writer of essays, fiction, and three collections of poetry. His most recent book, Epiphaneia (2019), won the 2020 OCM Bocas Prize for Caribbean Literature, and his first book, Make Us All Islands (2017), was shortlisted for the Forward Prize for Best First Collection. His second book, Giant (2018), was highly commended by the Forward Prizes and longlisted for the OCM Bocas Prize. He is a recipient of a Fellowship from the Stellenbosch Institute of Advanced Study and has been listed or nominated for several other prizes, including the Hollick Arvon Caribbean Writers Prize, the Wasafiri New Writing Prize, and a Pushcart Prize. In addition to writing, Richard works in higher education and lives in the British Virgin Islands.
One of my new favorite poetry collections. The author writes about the aftermath of a hurricane that has destroyed his homeland, and in doing so writes of themes of home and survival and resilience. Somehow reading this during a completely different type of tragedy caused by nature and not being able to be in any of the places I feel at home made me emotional.
Written during the aftermath of Hurricane Irma, Epiphaneia is a collection which explores life, loss, grief and community. From the very beginning, Georges speaks with maturity, experience and wisdom; immediately placing Epiphaneia above several, current poetry releases as its poetic calibre ensures it deserves a space on everyone’s bookshelf.
At times, Georges’ writing is reminiscent of some of the greatest modern poets. In ‘On Remembering’ I caught echoes of Plath, whilst pieces like ‘Pathfinder’ and ‘A Longer Loneliness’ recalled the way Heaney wrote about Ireland. But, Georges’ individual voice is loud and stark. It is rare every poem in a collection causes you to pause, recognise you are in the grip of an incredibly talented writer, and then continue. With each poem, I savoured the poignant truth in Georges’ verses; in his ability to communicate ancient soul-deep feelings with enviable piquancy.
“goodbye comes in languages I cannot remember, I cannot understand anymore.” (Too Full of Vermouth and Cigarette Smoke)
“to submerge in this gorgeous too full life.” (The Logic of Perceiving)
Georges writes with a taste of life lived with love and fear in both hands. Thus, as Epiphaneia moves on to poems directly inspired by Hurricane Irma, the grief, hope and sense of community is palpable.
‘The Storm is Here...’ and ‘An Inventory for Survival’ both vividly capture the ecological destruction wrought by the hurricane and how we always seek to rebuild what we have lost - even in our heartache, even in the knowledge we cannot recover everything. Consequently, there is great sadness at times but Georges continues to uncover hope wherever it can be found.
“birds loops like kites, the sun remains a star and we are still here” (Still Life of a Ruin)
“I’ve begun to learn that devastated does not mean dead, that ruin can be resplendent, that what has been emptied can be filled.” (The Year Has Become More Beautiful)
‘Altricial’ too, is a beautiful commentary on beginning again.
Georges does not miss a beat. Every poem reaches out and touches the reader - comforts and consoles them, shares universal truths with the hope to swallow them.
Epiphaneia finishes with the strength it opens with. The prosetry piece ‘Notes on the Road Town’ alongside ‘Heartache is for Lovers...’ and ‘A Mixtape for Tortola’ leave you with the bittersweet reminder that nothing in life lasts forever yet some things (like our capability to love and lose) will never change.
Epiphaneia by Richard Georges is a powerful and emotional poetry book that stays with you long after you finish reading it. The poems are written in a way that feels honest, gentle, and deeply human. They talk about loss, memory, love, and survival, especially after the destruction caused by Hurricane Irma.
What makes this book special is how the poet shows pain and hope at the same time. You can feel the sadness of what was lost, but also the strength of people trying to rebuild their lives. The poems talk about family, home, nature, and what it means to keep going when everything around you has changed.
Some poems are quiet and reflective, while others feel strong and emotional. The language is beautiful but not hard to understand. Even when the ideas are deep, the words feel natural, like someone sharing their thoughts from the heart.
This book made me stop and think. It shows how people can still find meaning, love, and beauty after disaster. Epiphaneia is not just a book of poems, it’s a reminder that even after loss, something new can grow.
I would recommend this book to anyone who enjoys thoughtful poetry, emotional storytelling, or stories about strength and healing.
"Who can afford such a cruelty my love? To love something, somewhere, or worse– someone. This is my gift to you all." I liked this collection of poems. I would not say that I loved them, but I appreciate the message. I appreciate that in the first section– and throughout, really– Georges showcases the beauty and resilience of the Caribbean and essentially makes this work a book-length ode to different parts of the Caribbean, including Guyana, which is historically and socially considered Caribbean. I also appreciate the mentions of the resilience and depression that could characterise a place after a storm (this book coincides with the Ir-Maria Hurricanes of 2017 and so there are stories captured here that demonstrate what the people of the Virgin Islands faced, especially in the aftermath. I would say, 3.5 stars for this collection. I would read again.