This song is about what's known in psychiatric lingo as a "Madonna-Whore Complex." It happens when a man has difficulty sexualizing his wife... because she is also the mother of his children. She can't be both the holy Madonna and the raunchy whore! The same person, both, as the song says, "sacred and profane"? Impossible.
In this case, the woman is having some trouble of this sort of her own. While in the throes of passion, her "Virgin Mary" necklace flies up and hits her in the mouth, as if to punish her for her sinful behavior.
Which... is how one becomes a mother in the first place, right? It's very confusing.
The next verse appears to be about a baby that refuses to nurse. However, since this is the only verse about this, it may not be about that at all, but about a man who is acting like a "sulky baby" because he is turned off by her lactation. Leaving her "untouched" and unfulfilled. "Reject"-ed.
So she starts to "wonder" if he is holding her. Holding her, that is, to "the same blue flame" that he feels he is subject to. "I feel you scolding me," she says, instead of holding her. Scolding her for wanting sex when she shouldn't. And then making him feel bad for rejecting something she shouldn't want him to have to begin with.
Like I said, confusing.
She sees what the problem is. "Your virgin mary's in the way," she says-- when you look at me, you want to see a virgin... so you "hallucinate" one, she explains. This false vision "obscures" his view of the real her. "It's me here, made of clay!" she reminds him. She is not holy, but human; even the Bible says people are made from clay. So go ahead and grab her! It's OK.
He sees a thin line. On one side, "austerity" and celibacy. On the other, "just give in" and "embrace that white oblivion." Which could mean death (he says)... but also ecstasy (she says).
Frustrated, she tells him his "expectations" are too "high": "Who could live up to this?" Who could, in fact, be so pure? She wants to be chased, not chaste!
Even when he does kiss her, it's like that of an "angel." Pure, and "cold." Full of love, maybe, but not lust.
Sadly, in many such cases, the man will be unable to bring himself to have sex with his suddenly-holy wife and even cheat on her! With someone he does not esteem, and so feels comfortable "using."
While right after childbirth is no time for hanky-panky, the woman's body does reset in four to six weeks. By then, the husband should be missing having his wife in all her... ways and want to start things back up.
When he doesn't, when by that time he has idolized and idealized her, then the trouble starts.
Of course, it might have nothing to do with childbirth. A man may simply fall in love with a woman in a deeply spiritual way and feel it is wrong to "sully" that purity with passion.
In all such cases, both the man and woman suffer, and counseling is strongly urged... so that the urge can once again become strong.
Next Song: Soap and Water
Monday, April 25, 2016
Monday, April 18, 2016
(I'll Never Be) Your Maggie May
This type of song is known as a "response" song. In this case, it is response to a song sung by Rod Stewart called "Maggie May." At the time, this Maggie May person, as depicted in that song, would have been called, perhaps, a "Mrs. Robinson," while today she would be called a "MILF" or "cougar."
In that song, the speaker doesn't know what he wants, and is clearly ambivalent about his feelings for her, but in the end decides to leave.
Vega sees this type of relationship from the woman's viewpoint. "I'll never be your Maggie May/ the one you loved and left behind." (How does she know this so certainly? Spoiler Alert: she leaves him).
[One quibble: "That isn't me in bed you'll find" is an unfortunately forced rhyme. That poor phrase is doing some major contortions.]
She compares herself to a geisha in the next verse, interestingly. Although how accurate to the geisha lifestyle she is, I have no idea. I suppose there are many reasons to adopt such a lifestyle, and many ways to enact it.
Then, this small bridge: "And so you go/ No girl could say no/ To you." Wait... wasn't she the one who was going to "go" and leave him? Maybe in his mind, he will do the leaving.
As far as the next line, there is no issue. You might ask, again, "How can it be that no girl can refuse him... didn't she just do that?" Ah, but she is no "girl," is she? Isn't that the point? She's a full-grown woman.
One reason she knows it cannot last is that he has no guile, and so no suspicion. In fact, "we may... change" how we "appear," but she knows he will never "see within," or "ha[ve] that sight."
To make up for the lyrical mis-step above, Vega offers this clever bait and switch. We expect she is going to say that people "change from day to day," but the line is that people change "from day to night," adding a sexual element to such alterations.
Now comes the "spoiler" promised above. She will never be his Maggie May, because "I'll love you first and let you go." It's the old "You can't quit-- you're fired!" gambit.
Why? "Because it must be so." She is wise enough to know that, since it can't last, the quicker she pulls off the Band-Aid, the better.
What about his feelings? "You'll forgive or you will not." Cold, but also realistic. She can't be responsible for his reaction.
"And so a world turns on its end," with the breakup. This sounds like a catastrophe... but doesn't the world spin on its magnetic pole already? This may be taken two ways-- it's the end of the world, or it's business as usual-- because the breakup also can have differing interpretations.
Still, she will miss him, or at least remember him: "I'll see your face in dreams."
The song ends with an admission. She left him-- among other reasons-- because he couldn't keep up with how people change from "day to night." But... she can't either. In these dreams, she says, "nothing's as it seems."
How bad is her intuition? In these dreams, he "still appear[s] some kind of friend."
And so perhaps she dislikes that aspect of his personality because she shares it.
Yeah, that's not going to work...
Next Song: It Makes Me Wonder
In that song, the speaker doesn't know what he wants, and is clearly ambivalent about his feelings for her, but in the end decides to leave.
Vega sees this type of relationship from the woman's viewpoint. "I'll never be your Maggie May/ the one you loved and left behind." (How does she know this so certainly? Spoiler Alert: she leaves him).
[One quibble: "That isn't me in bed you'll find" is an unfortunately forced rhyme. That poor phrase is doing some major contortions.]
She compares herself to a geisha in the next verse, interestingly. Although how accurate to the geisha lifestyle she is, I have no idea. I suppose there are many reasons to adopt such a lifestyle, and many ways to enact it.
Then, this small bridge: "And so you go/ No girl could say no/ To you." Wait... wasn't she the one who was going to "go" and leave him? Maybe in his mind, he will do the leaving.
As far as the next line, there is no issue. You might ask, again, "How can it be that no girl can refuse him... didn't she just do that?" Ah, but she is no "girl," is she? Isn't that the point? She's a full-grown woman.
One reason she knows it cannot last is that he has no guile, and so no suspicion. In fact, "we may... change" how we "appear," but she knows he will never "see within," or "ha[ve] that sight."
To make up for the lyrical mis-step above, Vega offers this clever bait and switch. We expect she is going to say that people "change from day to day," but the line is that people change "from day to night," adding a sexual element to such alterations.
Now comes the "spoiler" promised above. She will never be his Maggie May, because "I'll love you first and let you go." It's the old "You can't quit-- you're fired!" gambit.
Why? "Because it must be so." She is wise enough to know that, since it can't last, the quicker she pulls off the Band-Aid, the better.
What about his feelings? "You'll forgive or you will not." Cold, but also realistic. She can't be responsible for his reaction.
"And so a world turns on its end," with the breakup. This sounds like a catastrophe... but doesn't the world spin on its magnetic pole already? This may be taken two ways-- it's the end of the world, or it's business as usual-- because the breakup also can have differing interpretations.
Still, she will miss him, or at least remember him: "I'll see your face in dreams."
The song ends with an admission. She left him-- among other reasons-- because he couldn't keep up with how people change from "day to night." But... she can't either. In these dreams, she says, "nothing's as it seems."
How bad is her intuition? In these dreams, he "still appear[s] some kind of friend."
And so perhaps she dislikes that aspect of his personality because she shares it.
Yeah, that's not going to work...
Next Song: It Makes Me Wonder
Monday, April 11, 2016
Widow's Walk
A "widow's walk" is a small walkway, really more of a platform, above the roof of many coastal homes, from New England to Italy, where they originated. The idea is that the wife of a sailor can watch the water to see if her husband is coming home... or if she has become a widow.
This song owes something to the great, ancient ballad "Sir Patrick Spens," about a ship that went down in a storm. It is safe to say, however, the main inspiration was the break-up of Vega's marriage.
The speaker begins "Consider me a widow, boys." So her husband died-- very sad. Well, no, she continues, "It's not the man, but the marriage that was drowned."
"So I walk the walk," she says, which has a double meaning. One is that she is authentic, she doesn't only "talk the talk," but fulfills it by "walking the walk." The other meaning is that she walks the "widow's walk," the structure described above.
This we know because she already mentioned "drown[ing]" but now continues that she is "wait[ing]" and is "watchful" of the "sky," while "looking for a kind of vessel." She is clearly evoking the image of a sailor's wife on a widow's walk, worried at the weather and gazing hopefully for the safe return of her husband's boat. But, she says, she has "never found" this kind of vessel.
She has four more things to say. One is to ask, "Does the weather say a better day is nearing?" She does hold out hope for the future, and has not discounted the possibility of future relationships, er, voyages.
The second is that she will "set [her] house in order now." This is a typical response to a loss. For one, it is a practical necessity. Emotionally, it helps distract us from the pain and helps us reclaim a sense of control in a chaotic situation.
The third is that she will "wait upon the Will." This could mean her husband's last will and testament, or in the case of a divorce, the judge's rulings. But the fact that it is capitalized indicates that this refers to the Divine Will. She feels she is bad at controlling her life, so she asks that God take the helm for now.
The last comment relates to that: "It's clear that I need better skill at steering." Oh, God has the wheel for now. But as soon as she regains her confidence, she will switch from "Sir Patrick Spens" to "Invictus," which ends: "I am the master of my fate/ I am the captain of my soul," and take back the helm.
She keeps returning to the site of the wreck, hoping to learn something. I think that, ultimately, she does, and the lesson is:
Ship happens.
Next song: "(I'll Never Be) Your Maggie May"
This song owes something to the great, ancient ballad "Sir Patrick Spens," about a ship that went down in a storm. It is safe to say, however, the main inspiration was the break-up of Vega's marriage.
The speaker begins "Consider me a widow, boys." So her husband died-- very sad. Well, no, she continues, "It's not the man, but the marriage that was drowned."
"So I walk the walk," she says, which has a double meaning. One is that she is authentic, she doesn't only "talk the talk," but fulfills it by "walking the walk." The other meaning is that she walks the "widow's walk," the structure described above.
This we know because she already mentioned "drown[ing]" but now continues that she is "wait[ing]" and is "watchful" of the "sky," while "looking for a kind of vessel." She is clearly evoking the image of a sailor's wife on a widow's walk, worried at the weather and gazing hopefully for the safe return of her husband's boat. But, she says, she has "never found" this kind of vessel.
Still, she did find some kind of vessel, because she "saw it splinter" and tear apart when it "hit the rocks."
She has becomes somewhat obsessed about the incident. She finds that she "keep[s] returning" to "where I did see the thing go down... as if there's something at the site/ I should be learning."
She does "grieve" at the demise of the ship, even though, she says, "I knew the ship was empty by the time" it shattered on the rocks. How did she know this?
"We watch the wind and set the sail," she says, at the beginning of the voyage, "but save ourselves when all omens point to 'fail.'" When they saw the storm was surging, and knew that a crash was imminent, they abandoned ship-- as anyone would.
So she blames no one: "We could not hold on when fate became unruly." She chalks the whole disaster up to "fate."
She has four more things to say. One is to ask, "Does the weather say a better day is nearing?" She does hold out hope for the future, and has not discounted the possibility of future relationships, er, voyages.
The second is that she will "set [her] house in order now." This is a typical response to a loss. For one, it is a practical necessity. Emotionally, it helps distract us from the pain and helps us reclaim a sense of control in a chaotic situation.
The third is that she will "wait upon the Will." This could mean her husband's last will and testament, or in the case of a divorce, the judge's rulings. But the fact that it is capitalized indicates that this refers to the Divine Will. She feels she is bad at controlling her life, so she asks that God take the helm for now.
The last comment relates to that: "It's clear that I need better skill at steering." Oh, God has the wheel for now. But as soon as she regains her confidence, she will switch from "Sir Patrick Spens" to "Invictus," which ends: "I am the master of my fate/ I am the captain of my soul," and take back the helm.
She keeps returning to the site of the wreck, hoping to learn something. I think that, ultimately, she does, and the lesson is:
Ship happens.
Next song: "(I'll Never Be) Your Maggie May"
Monday, April 4, 2016
Penitent
This is the first song on Vega's 2001 album Songs in Red and Gray.
The title is not in the song, but the word "penitent" is a religious one, and it means "one who repents." (It is related to the word "penitentiary," which gives a clue as to that institution's initial purpose.)
The song starts the album off in an opposite stature than 99.9F; "Rock in This Pocket" brimmed with bravado.
Here, we find the speaker saying she was formerly "proud" and "above the crowd," but now is "low," even "on the ground." From this perspective, she is so lost she cannot even tell what her options are, "what avenues belong" to her.
We can't know this from the audio recording, but the liner notes make it clear that these lines are being addressed to God: "Now, what would You have me do? ...I wait to hear."
It seems the sin she is repenting is one of arrogance; she tried, she tells God, "to stare You down."
(It should be noted that there are major discrepancies between the liner notes and the official lyrics as posted on Vega's website. The liner notes seem to favor the (precious) lowercase, starting most lines this way, so all their capitalization is suspect. Meanwhile, the lyrics on the website have at least one major, obvious enjambment error that also calls their credibility into question.
This is no mere grammatical whine on my part-- there is a world (or more) of difference between "You" and "you"-- the very difference between God and human. And this is the very word whose capitalization is inconsistent, both within each version and between them. Well, also "Your" and "your."
If "You" means "God," which it must, what shall we make of the instances of "you"? It would be one thing if the switch happened midway through the lyrics-- first she addresses God, then a person. And she does seem to drop the You altogether midway in the liner version, but even there we have "Now what would You have me do/ I ask you please?" early on. This is clearly one consistent question addressed to one party, but first with a capital and then without.
Adding to the confusion, the liner notes drop the capitalized version altogether at this point... while the website version continues them. But... does it to so to mean this is still God being addressed? Or is it just that the word falls at the start of a line, and the website prefers the formal, correct style of starting each line with a capital?
I am going to say the entire song is addressed to God and the lowercase "you" and "your" instances are all lazy typos. The rest of the song only makes sense if she is speaking to, and of, God, as we shall see.
Yes, this is Vega's divorce album, and maybe some of this is supposed to also be to her ex. But the metaphors don't work. And what's she implying, if that's the case-- that he's a god? That he thinks of himself as one? Well, then at which points does she mean her ex, and which God? It would be impossible to untangle, even if the capitals were consistent, because lines start with capitals as well as references to God.)
The speaker says she is not the first to try to "stare [God] down." One is "the mother," probably Mary, who does try to sway Jesus' actions at various points. Also, "the matador," which is a very odd reference; the only thing I can imagine is that this is means Aaron and the incident of the Golden Calf, the closest thing the Bible comes to a man-and-bull scenario. And "the mystic," which could be any number of prophets to argued (or even wrestled) with God: Abraham, Jacob, Moses, Jonah...
God's response to her challenge is to "appear without a face/ Disappear but leave [His] trace." Which is his "unseen frown." She simply "feels" God's disapproving disappointment.
Well, staring God down didn't work. So she has to apologize. But how? She is powerless, even powerless to think of her options. So she asks God how He'd like to be apologized to: "Now what would You have me do, I ask You please?"
She says she waits for His "voice... word... sign." But admits, even then, "Would I obey?"
Well, God is not coming to her, so she starts to "look for" Him, on the "moor/ the desert and the ocean floor." Before she was only "down to the ground," now she's miles underwater-- and muses, "How low does one heart go?" How much must she lower herself before she is forgiven? (Would she look for her ex in all these places? Or is nature where one seeks God?)
"Looking for your fingerprints/ I find them in coincidence" (again, something you would say of God, not a person, who has no command over Fate). Many people feel that such cases can only be explained through Divine intervention or Providence. She seems to be forcing herself to this state though. She has to "make [her] faith to grow." It's not happening naturally, you see.
Finally, she seems to simply try asking for a pardon, sort of: "Forgive me all my blindnesses/ My weakness and unkindnesses/ As yet unbending still." First, she admits that her "unbending" nature is not a show of strength but of "weakness."
But then she wants to be forgiven... without having to change what she's doing wrong! She is "still" the same stubborn person, but wants God to just accept it and forgive her for it. "Look, I will not submit, and you'll just have to get used to it. Sorry." Strange "apology," that!
This next phrase could be taken two ways. The lines are "Struggling so hard to see/ My fist against eternity." Is she struggling to see something with her eyes, against the infinite void of eternity?
Or is this the "see" of the interviewer's question: "Where do you see yourself in five years?" Perhaps she wants to "see"-- in other words, "to see to it that"-- her fist is set against eternity.
And what is this eternity she sets her fist against? God? Death? The Universe? All of the above? Or even all of the Above?
The song ends with a question: "Will You break my will... could I obey?" This is a core religious question-- does belief mean submission? Does accepting God mean accepting God's control?
She doesn't want to fight God anymore. But how can she continue to be a strong, independent person with free will... and also "obey"?
If the one being addressed here is her ex-husband, she did leave him. And if the one being addressed is God, well, Vega left her Christian background for Buddhism. She might also have opted for the Jewish faith [not that I know how religious he was] of her once-husband, Mitchell Froom; the very word "Israel" means "One who struggles with God."
And then there was Galileo, who was forced to renounce his scientific discoveries by the Church; he is quoted as having said (albeit in Italian), "I refuse to believe that God gave me a brain and then told me not to use it."
She tries to be penitent. But she cannot. She was not built to bow.
And Whose fault is that?
Next Song: Widow's Walk
The title is not in the song, but the word "penitent" is a religious one, and it means "one who repents." (It is related to the word "penitentiary," which gives a clue as to that institution's initial purpose.)
The song starts the album off in an opposite stature than 99.9F; "Rock in This Pocket" brimmed with bravado.
Here, we find the speaker saying she was formerly "proud" and "above the crowd," but now is "low," even "on the ground." From this perspective, she is so lost she cannot even tell what her options are, "what avenues belong" to her.
We can't know this from the audio recording, but the liner notes make it clear that these lines are being addressed to God: "Now, what would You have me do? ...I wait to hear."
It seems the sin she is repenting is one of arrogance; she tried, she tells God, "to stare You down."
(It should be noted that there are major discrepancies between the liner notes and the official lyrics as posted on Vega's website. The liner notes seem to favor the (precious) lowercase, starting most lines this way, so all their capitalization is suspect. Meanwhile, the lyrics on the website have at least one major, obvious enjambment error that also calls their credibility into question.
This is no mere grammatical whine on my part-- there is a world (or more) of difference between "You" and "you"-- the very difference between God and human. And this is the very word whose capitalization is inconsistent, both within each version and between them. Well, also "Your" and "your."
If "You" means "God," which it must, what shall we make of the instances of "you"? It would be one thing if the switch happened midway through the lyrics-- first she addresses God, then a person. And she does seem to drop the You altogether midway in the liner version, but even there we have "Now what would You have me do/ I ask you please?" early on. This is clearly one consistent question addressed to one party, but first with a capital and then without.
Adding to the confusion, the liner notes drop the capitalized version altogether at this point... while the website version continues them. But... does it to so to mean this is still God being addressed? Or is it just that the word falls at the start of a line, and the website prefers the formal, correct style of starting each line with a capital?
I am going to say the entire song is addressed to God and the lowercase "you" and "your" instances are all lazy typos. The rest of the song only makes sense if she is speaking to, and of, God, as we shall see.
Yes, this is Vega's divorce album, and maybe some of this is supposed to also be to her ex. But the metaphors don't work. And what's she implying, if that's the case-- that he's a god? That he thinks of himself as one? Well, then at which points does she mean her ex, and which God? It would be impossible to untangle, even if the capitals were consistent, because lines start with capitals as well as references to God.)
The speaker says she is not the first to try to "stare [God] down." One is "the mother," probably Mary, who does try to sway Jesus' actions at various points. Also, "the matador," which is a very odd reference; the only thing I can imagine is that this is means Aaron and the incident of the Golden Calf, the closest thing the Bible comes to a man-and-bull scenario. And "the mystic," which could be any number of prophets to argued (or even wrestled) with God: Abraham, Jacob, Moses, Jonah...
God's response to her challenge is to "appear without a face/ Disappear but leave [His] trace." Which is his "unseen frown." She simply "feels" God's disapproving disappointment.
Well, staring God down didn't work. So she has to apologize. But how? She is powerless, even powerless to think of her options. So she asks God how He'd like to be apologized to: "Now what would You have me do, I ask You please?"
She says she waits for His "voice... word... sign." But admits, even then, "Would I obey?"
Well, God is not coming to her, so she starts to "look for" Him, on the "moor/ the desert and the ocean floor." Before she was only "down to the ground," now she's miles underwater-- and muses, "How low does one heart go?" How much must she lower herself before she is forgiven? (Would she look for her ex in all these places? Or is nature where one seeks God?)
"Looking for your fingerprints/ I find them in coincidence" (again, something you would say of God, not a person, who has no command over Fate). Many people feel that such cases can only be explained through Divine intervention or Providence. She seems to be forcing herself to this state though. She has to "make [her] faith to grow." It's not happening naturally, you see.
Finally, she seems to simply try asking for a pardon, sort of: "Forgive me all my blindnesses/ My weakness and unkindnesses/ As yet unbending still." First, she admits that her "unbending" nature is not a show of strength but of "weakness."
But then she wants to be forgiven... without having to change what she's doing wrong! She is "still" the same stubborn person, but wants God to just accept it and forgive her for it. "Look, I will not submit, and you'll just have to get used to it. Sorry." Strange "apology," that!
This next phrase could be taken two ways. The lines are "Struggling so hard to see/ My fist against eternity." Is she struggling to see something with her eyes, against the infinite void of eternity?
Or is this the "see" of the interviewer's question: "Where do you see yourself in five years?" Perhaps she wants to "see"-- in other words, "to see to it that"-- her fist is set against eternity.
And what is this eternity she sets her fist against? God? Death? The Universe? All of the above? Or even all of the Above?
The song ends with a question: "Will You break my will... could I obey?" This is a core religious question-- does belief mean submission? Does accepting God mean accepting God's control?
She doesn't want to fight God anymore. But how can she continue to be a strong, independent person with free will... and also "obey"?
If the one being addressed here is her ex-husband, she did leave him. And if the one being addressed is God, well, Vega left her Christian background for Buddhism. She might also have opted for the Jewish faith [not that I know how religious he was] of her once-husband, Mitchell Froom; the very word "Israel" means "One who struggles with God."
And then there was Galileo, who was forced to renounce his scientific discoveries by the Church; he is quoted as having said (albeit in Italian), "I refuse to believe that God gave me a brain and then told me not to use it."
She tries to be penitent. But she cannot. She was not built to bow.
And Whose fault is that?
Next Song: Widow's Walk
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)