Praise for Pretending to be Italian
Katy Giebenhain can make a line of poetry pop, sing, or quietly state its case. These are poems about going places – to cities, the country, or war – and learning what it takes to stay alive when we get there.
–Patricia Kirkpatrick, WATER~STONE REVIEW
Katy Giebenhain’s arresting and expertly crafted collection begins with bathroom graffiti and ends on a song. In between are poems featuring potato chips, taxidermy, war, John Irving, James Bond, a preacher’s wife and circus performers. Lest you think these diverse subjects have nothing in common, Giebenhain pulls it all together through the universal dichotomy of wanting both the familiar and the exotic. She maps the conflicts of homesickness while traveling (“’I am Ready to go Home’”) with the need for novelty while stuck at home on a snowy day (“Pretending to Be Italian”). While touring the land of her heritage she “watches the Rhine /muscle its way through the vineyards, / gets sentimental / for Methodist Churches, rodeo queens / and motel ice machines.” She understands “the path things take / when pulled by other things.” Even living with diabetes is drawn as both curse and celebration: “the thousand-sticking screams, / not pain, but repetition” is juxtaposed with “Blessed be the test-strip vials, / O my soul”! Here are remarkable sonnets, metaphors, images, and a great “tongue’s indenture”— Giebenhain’s imaginative pact with the reader to help us comprehend our eternal longing: “We need a piece of something but can’t say / what.”
–Marianne Worthington, editor, Motif anthology series
“Katy Giebenhain has a unique take on the world and in this introduction to her work she invites us with her from Europe to the USA, from the Vietnam War to the present, from sickness to health. Here is a new and already mature poetry voice acutely aware of nuances of language and the potency of the poem’s line. With Pretending to be Italian, Katy announces herself as a poet to follow.”
–Tony Curtis, poetry professor and critic
“Katy Giebenhain’s poems act out imaginary lives that are often her own, a real life tainted by an imagination where the boundary of self/selves blur. We travel with her to strange places and are handed scripts in foreign languages to read, an estrangement which explains why ‘Kafkaesque’ and ‘surreal’ are such commonplaces even if the terms are inexact. We are along for the rich journey.”
–Jonathan Greene, Gnomon Press