Journey to the Lost City

by Jonathan Aaron

Taking its title from the cult horror movie classic, Jonathan Aaron’s third book is a work of appropriately sharp wit, irony and disarming tenderness. Cool, metaphysically quizzical and almost Eastern-European in sensibility, the poems in Journey to the Lost City are savvy, intelligent, personal, and yet reserved; juxtaposing historical persons and places with the immediate, Aaron’s work speaks with an authority that is wholly American, timeless and intimate.

Genres: Poetry

96 pages, Paperback

First published April 1, 2006

About the author

Jonathan Aaron lives in Cambridge, Massachusetts, and is the author of three collections of poetry. His work has received many honors, including fellowships from Yaddo and MacDowell. His poems, essays, and reviews have been widely published in periodicals including The Paris Review and The New York Review of Books and his poems have appeared five times in The Best American Poetry.

Reviews

[Boxhuman · Rating 4 out of 5]

It took me a little bit to warm up to his style. At first I thought it was a little bland, but then I really focused on it and enjoyed it more. Aaron is not fast-paced; he’s not in your face. His poetry doesn’t strong-arm its way into your mind. Instead it lingers like a ghost, and envelopes like a distant smell that you remember but can’t place. His poems range from nostalgic to quietly humorous or dreamlike. Each was an easy read that was down-to-earth and his audience can be very varied. I liked how many of his poems were personal, plus the bits of history and legend sprinkled in.

“This Little System” kicked it off and it was appealing, light, but with a little something hidden that made me curious and eager for more. “Expletives” was a little more fiery (“You don’t give a rat’s ass for my secret wish to at least once/in my life quote Montaige exactly”), but started to wander too far (“you scurry/for the total darkness just beyond moments from now, where you hide/ in the tuneless singing of everything/that hasn’t happened yet”).

“Some Thoughts About World War 2 Airplanes” was good (especially the line “The tail fin often fell off as I got ready to through” broke my heart). “A Night in Spoleto” was fantastic and absolutely haunted (“and door after/door started slamming in what had to be the wind”). “Skills” was utterly terrific and probably my favorite poem in the book and made my heart skip a beat; I would love to put it in the review, but it’s a poem that can’t be picked apart. “Frank” was a good dog poem, which is hard for me to find, and I completely empathized with it (with his dog getting old). “Watch Dog” was a little frightening and I loved his description in it (“head like a cinderblock wrapped in grey velour”).

The end of “Certain Stories” was a bit of genius: “they’re ready when you are, and they’re going to stay/that way – the pig with a wooden leg, the Sicilian hitchhiker,/the Pope and the crossword puzzle”.

His love of B movies melts my heart. “Night of the Demon” was awesome.

The title poem was more vague and dreamlike than most of his other poems, but I really liked the line: “The regretful satisfaction/on his face made him look like one of those medieval saints whose/ benediction/ always mean I told you so.” In “Back Then”, I liked the description: “the skeleton of an incredibly large fish”. “Offering” was also incredible.

Bottomline: Has enduring charm. Will buy.

[A.M. · Rating 4 out of 5]

I always learn something new reading Jonathan Aaron's poems, because much of his poetry is about movies, characters, paintings and people from the past.

With Journey to the Lost City, I was introduced to an actress from the fifties named Debra Paget and watched a very intriguing video of her doing a snake dance in the movie, The Indian Tomb. An art lover, I was also happy to discover the works of Kurt Schwitters - his Merz collages and The Merzbau, in particular.

I love the poem "LADY WITH WHEELBARROW, OR: READING A MAIL ORDER CATALOGUE," but it is too long to re-type, so I will share this one - about a painting of which I am acquainted and perhaps you are, too:

LOOKING AT ROUSSEAU'S SLEEPING GYPSY

A gypsy girl decides to visit her grandmother
on the other side of the desert. Carrying a staff,
a jar of water to quench her thirst, and a lute for music
to keep her company, she travels all day.
It's getting dark when she arrives at an oasis.
After she eats a few dates and drinks some water,
she picks up her lute and sings herself a song.
Then she lies down and quickly falls asleep.
She doesn't see the moon rise, and the stars as well,
and the night turn into an approaching lion.
Lions eat anything from insects to antelopes and giraffes.
This one has to be at least ten feet long from the end of his tail
to the tip of his nose. I can't tell you what he's doing here.
He walks up to the sleeping girl. Maybe she's dreaming about
her grandmother, whom she counts on seeing tomorrow. Maybe not.
The desert is completely silent, except for a jackal barking
faintly and far off. The lion looks around with a shining eye,
and a breeze stirs his yellow mane as it would the curtain
across the window the girl sleeps next to in really hot weather.
No, I don't think the lion is going to eat her. Yes,
you could say she's wearing a brand new dress.

[henry · Rating 4 out of 5]

a few weak spots, but overall a very imaginative book, very well-crafted book. lots of focus on cinema and history. imaginative ways of story-telling beyond the normal narrative, good at catching quick jumps in the mind.