A Review Of Before The 21st By Henry Stobbs Of The Ohio Poetry Association
	A Review Of Before The 21st By M. E. Buchinger Bodwell For The Ibbeston Street Update

 

Before the 21st: (Selected Poems 1990-1999) 
by Christina L. Johnson

Copyright 2002
Ginninderra Press Of Canberra, Australia 
ISBN 1-74027-120-3

If you are a poetry snob, don’t buy this book; it’s not for you. There are no clever little tricks of phrase to draw you out of your jade-clad palace, no never-heard-before metaphors to elevate your pulse, no mysteries of metaphor so deeply frozen in the ice of meaning that only the most sophisticated scanning can dig them out. This is no “loud shout,” no clever rant.

If, on the other hand, you are the kind of reader who takes comfort from poems that demonstrate quiet, graceful beauty; if you like poetry that touches the heart, mind, and soul without battering you to bits with its attitude of superiority; if you like being able to figure out what’s going on in a poem without giving yourself a migraine; if you are the kind of reader who loves daisies and lilac as well as damask roses and bougainvillea; and finally, if you still believe in trees, winding roads that lead over the hill to who knows where, and abandoned houses that still harbor ghosts - well then, I recommend Before the 21st to you.

Houses are important subjects of Johnson’s (as are trees which are, if you think about it, the precursors of houses). Sometimes, they are no more substantial than a window to look from, and more often than not, they are empty. Always, they are surrounded by trees and flowers that seem simultaneously to celebrate the joys of life and love, as well as mourn the loss of those two most important of human endeavors: “… Even the weeping willows / That surround your house / Are weeping now more than ever / And the roses / The roses you loved so well / They are dying… / Crumbling into the dust of yesterday, / Becoming memories…” (For a Neighbour, 15).

More deeply, Johnson’s houses are metaphors for the human condition itself: when children come of age, they leave their homes and wander over the hill into life; when humans come of age, they abandon the clapboard and creaky floors of life, and wander over the horizon of this existence “…flying / South on the ocean breeze / Chasing the autumn sun…” (Goodbye, 43). For Johnson, houses are points of departure, in every sense of the word.

One of the things I like most about this book is that each poem occupies its own space, leaving a blank page beside it, as if the poem itself were inviting the reader to respond. One of the things I dislike about the book is that Johnson often seems to desire to take greater chances with her lines, but pulls back from the edge of risk just at the moment when a poem is about to break free of its ordinary sensibility. 

And yet, that seems to be Johnson’s point. Before the 21st is a collection of ordinary words, ordinary beauty, and ordinary comfort: that makes it rather extraordinary in this age of over-the-top, excessive, hermetic poetry.

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Henry B. Stobbs holds an MFA in creative writing from Goddard College. His criticism has appeared in The Pitkin Critical Arts Review, and his prize-winning poetry and prose have been published in a variety of journals, including ByLine, Illya’s Honey, The Oklahoma Review, The Madison Review, Touchstone, Visions, Wordwrights, and others.