Marlene on the Wall

This is a song about a woman in an abusive relationship. We see that the man is physically violent, and there is undoubtedly emotional damage being done here as well.

"Even if I am in love with you... what's it to you?" she asks. OK, so she loves him, but why does he have to react this way if he doesn't love her back anyway?

There is "blood," and a bruise. This is the "tattoo"-- a mark on the skin-- of a "rose" color she speaks of, made by his grip: "on me, from you."

Then she speaks like a lawyer or police officer (a crime has been committed, after all) and says, "Observe... the fingerprints" and "Other evidence has shown," that, even though they are in a relationship, they are each fundamentally "still alone."

Further, they wisely agree not to discuss the situation in the heat of the moment, saying they will talk about it later... only they "don't talk about it later." Instead, they practice denial and avoidance, and "skirt around the danger zone."

There is a witness of a sort to this crime: a poster of Marlene Dietrich (referred to in the previous song, "Freeze Tag": "I will be Dietrich and you will be Dean"). She was a German performer, a singer and actress out of the cabaret heyday in WWII, who parlayed her sex appeal and husky voice into a series of film roles, usually as a femme fatale. Often, as in her breakout role in The Blue Angel, her character was seductive, but destructive, and sometimes so powerful a presence that she dressed in masculine clothing to emphasize her strength.

Dietrich appeared in everything from Westerns (lampooned by Madeline Kahn in Blazing Saddles) to war movies. She also performed for the troops in USO appearances; either those or the characters in the war movies could be the "soldiers" spoken of here.

In this song, Dietrich gazes imperiously on the proceedings from her movie poster, "her mocking smile" showing her disdain for the speaker allowing herself to be thus manhandled. In her roles, Dietrich usually handled the man, and without resorting to physical violence at that.

However, the speaker resents this judgementalism. First, while she is under attack, she is not supported by a battalion, but is alone: "The only solider now is me." Further, she is "fighting things [she] cannot see." Yes, she sees her attacker, but is also fighting her own feelings for and about him (see the first line).

On top of all this, she feels she is "changing," but for good or ill? Is she changing into a compliant, complaisant victim? Or is she changing into someone who might fight back, or at least leave? In any case, she does not feel in control of these changes, but that they are her "destiny."

At this point, the speaker is still in the relationship. The present tense of the statement "I walk to your house in the afternoon" makes this sound like a daily, and current, occurrence. The house is "by the butcher shop," which is ominous in its imagery (and also foreshadows the song "Fancy Poultry").

On her walk, she imagines Dietrich's advice would be to play hard to get: "Don't give away the goods too soon."

But something about the danger of the situation is part of the attraction. "I tried so hard to resist" his grip, she says, but she goes to his house every day to begin with! Wouldn't the first step in resisting be to... not go? She even-- as he is gripping her and literally bending her to his will-- calls his fist "handsome." (The phrases "rose tattoo" and "handsome fist" are part of the proof of Vega's sublime songcraft, even at this early stage of hers).

Whether verbally or through this action, the man "reminded [her] of the night [they] kissed." Evidently, the abuse was part of the relationship from the outset, and may have even been its catalyst altogether.

The man's words or actions also remind her "of why [she] should be leaving." This is the best news we have had so far. Maybe Dietrich's scorn, not some cloying social-work understanding, is the right therapy for this person in this situation.

After several choruses in which Dietrich records the passing by of soldiers, she now simply "records the rise and fall of every man who's been here." Perhaps this is not the speaker's first abusive relationship.

"But the only one here now is me," the speaker concludes. She cannot rely on anyone else, but must rise to her own protection and be her own savior. In this chorus, Vega has the speaker repeat the word "changing" multiple times, growing louder, to emphasize the intensity and acceleration of this changing.

We leave the speaker still in the grip of his man, and this relationship. But with Marlene Dietrich's wry, knowing grin as her goad, perhaps she will break free of him-- and of this cycle of abusive men-- someday. Even if she is "in love with" him, maybe she loves herself more.

Next Song: Small Blue Thing