The Almost-Cold-Case of Magic and Truth. Atticus' "The Truth About Magic."
by Blair E. Vandehey
The poet Atticus’ The Truth About Magic poses a question with its title–what is the truth about magic? Throughout pages of both penetrating honesty and yet witty spirit, he casts aside what ‘truth’ presents itself to be and attempts to solve this mystery with the hints of magic found in his corner of the world.
At the core of The Truth About Magic is, as the title suggests, the quest to understand complex concepts like romance, adventure, and–most clearly–the magic around and within us. To attempt at this, the poet realizes the reality in the ideal and then finds the ideal–the magic–in that reality. Most of his poems capture not the big firsts of a relationship but the small moments, like jumping into pools in the spur of the moment fully clothed or the perfect blend of movies, popcorn, and baggy hoodies with someone you love. The words “truth” and “to be honest” characterize the collection as confessional, with the persona of a romantic that Atticus has built up in his first two books Love Her Wild and The Dark Between Stars beginning to be peeled back as he admits he isn’t as confident in love as he claimed to be–and that that’s okay. The truth is not always pretty, such as when Atticus decides to remain true to what he believes though he must sacrifice a lover for it, calling it “the end of love / and beginning of truth.” Still, however, Atticus takes honesty’s brutality just as he takes its clarity in stride.
Alongside attempting to scratch the surface of what ‘truth’ might be, Atticus reexamines what is accepted as true, be it for one person or the entire world: “Don’t believe everything you know for sure,” he warns. With that, redefining the accepted is an additional endeavor The Truth About Magic undertakes. For one, Atticus asks us to rethink the gap between passionate ‘young’ and the cool complacency of ‘old’ love that he deems artificial; he reminds readers that although diamonds like people lose their perceived perfection as we look closer, we must never forget that even imperfect diamonds are no less capable of shining all fiery and bright.
Reasoning what truth might be is a difficult task, and Atticus holds nothing back as he probes it. Still, he manages to keep such an existential work as The Truth About Magic lighthearted with his unrivaled wit. As he delves into unearthing magic in love, he claims that maybe ‘love’ in its purest form is something like “a girl pretending / she can’t open a jar of pickles / and a boy pretending / not to know she could” or maybe the overdramatic chagrin that magic sweaters able to warp one’s lover right into them don’t exist. His commitment to sprinkling in wit keeps the collection both piercing and relaxed, a balance of head and heart that is the hallmark of the work.
As Atticus examines each intimation of truth, he takes readers to some of his favorite places, both physical and otherwise, giving each one a distinct personality as he goes. Brooklyn is one of the most starkly characterized locations The Truth About Magic takes us; there, Atticus revels in its paradox of the comfortable invisibility in being surrounded by hundreds of thousands of people. Romantic Paris and rustic Rome, a city he imagines to connect all of history all at once, are two destinations which are consistently revisited as he tries to decipher the strange state of being human (Atticus goes as far as to even thank the two cities for their magic in the acknowledgements). Places on a map, however, are far from the only ‘place’ characters in Atticus’ work; the warm two-person bubble of firesides, the gates to other worlds in each spine in a bookstore, and the best bad decisions of a place only wine can take us are just a few of the many intangible ‘somweheres’ that make their prominent presence known on Atticus’ truth-seeking journey. The Truth About Magic’s most notable works are undoubtedly when geography and an abstract ‘location’ come together, like all the times in the work that Paris and insobriety are shaken up and served as the youthful mix of living fast with a heart spilled out on our author’s sleeve.
Though his work is titled The Truth About Magic, Atticus avoids answering what exactly that ‘truth’ is, and dodges an exact definition whenever addressing it directly. By the end, Atticus appears to both have an answer and turn up empty-handed; through the fractions of the truth he catalogs as he travels through every inch of his ordinary yet vivid world, all we come to find is that he claims ‘the truth about magic’ is simply that it’s true–and for him, that’s enough.
Blair E. Vandehey is an Appleton-based writer, daydreamer, and lover of all things pop culture She is currently working towards a degree in Creative Writing and Political Science at Lawrence University.