Despite being first in the publication history of the Poena Damni trilogy, Dimitris Lyacos’s The First Death is the latest installment of the narrative sequence. A booklet found by the protagonist of Z213: EXIT during the course of his voyage, The First Death tells the story of a marooned man on a desert island – or has him tell it. In a sequence of fourteen sections the crippled protagonist struggles for his survival. Through an inexhaustible fecundity of imagery and a sense of unquenchable vitality in the midst of denial and despair a relentless fight develops between the character and the elements, as well as his physical and mental disintegration. Lyacos brings to bear a formidable culture in which fragments of ancient Greek are embedded in a supple modern idiom, and a variety of classical and biblical references are seamlessly integrated into the text. The violence and intensity of his vision combined with the headlong energy of his verse reveal a tragic inner landscape. The protagonist here could be a modern Philoctetes or an inverted version of Crusoe; but as the ordeal on the island comes to an end one is not finally sure whether one has encountered simply a wretched stump of humanity or, rather, a proudly self-mutilated god.
Dimitris Lyacos (Greek: Δημήτρης Λυάκος) is a Greek writer best known for the internationally acclaimed Poena Damni trilogy and its prequel Until the Victim Becomes our Own. His genre-defying work interweaves prose, poetry, and drama with themes from philosophy, religion, ritual, and literary tradition, forming a complex narrative rooted in the Western Canon. Lyacos's characters are typically isolated, existential figures navigating dystopian or metaphysical landscapes, reflecting motifs such as the scapegoat, exile, redemption, and the return of the dead. The trilogy, written over three decades, includes Z213: Exit, With the People from the Bridge, and The First Death, and has been interpreted as post-tragic and allegorical, blending Christian symbolism with elements of modernist and postmodernist literature. Critics have likened Lyacos to James Joyce, Virginia Woolf, and Cormac McCarthy, citing his synthesis of classical and contemporary styles. His work has been translated into over 20 languages, making it one of the most widely translated Greek literary projects of the 21st century. Born in Athens, Lyacos studied law and philosophy in Athens, Venice, and London, and now resides between Berlin and Athens. He has lectured worldwide and appeared in major international festivals. Poena Damni is frequently included in university curricula and has garnered significant critical attention. Although a Greek author, his works are published solely in translation. Lyacos is considered Greece’s foremost contemporary writer and a likely Nobel contender, praised for his contribution to postmodern literature and the philosophical exploration of human suffering and transcendence.
Last of the Poena Damni series, this book does justice to the other too. Intense, violent, but also, embedded in our deepest human concerns. The content of the book - a lone castaway struggling to survive on a utterly bare island- lives up to the Greek tragic poets, but has a strength and style of its own, while being at the same time pure and great poetry. You may be shocked by its imagery, but, then again this happens also when your read Homer or Lautreamont. After you have finished it you will probably wonder what else have you read that could be similar to such a unique reading experience.
This has some of the strongest writing/imagery in a trilogy that is less fascinating than staring at a wall. This is also the slimmest volume and so, not counting every other blank page and the notes at the end, it's really only 20 pages in length or less. Somehow this trilogy, if you can even call it that, manages to be worse than Mallo's Nocilla. The word 'worse' is too strong for something as bland as these three books. To tweak a famous phrase from physicist Wolfgang Pauli: it's not even bad. Perhaps it would be better in the original Greek, however.
read this in Greek a long time ago. While most tend to be impressed by the author's subject matter - and who wouldn't, what with all the horror - I was struck by his skill: carefully manipulating images but also playing about with any metre one could possibly think of. Gripping stuff!
Harder to hook into than Z213: Exit; when your hero starts out dead there's less plain world under the mythopoeia. The difference between poetry and prose, at least in translation. I'm impressed even so.
Mucho mejor… sin duda el mejor de los tres. He de reconocer que me ha gustado, aunque tampoco le he encontrado mucho sentido al conjunto. Voy a necesitar que me lo expliquen.