Monday, February 20, 2017

Carson's Last Supper

The "last supper" everyone means when they use that term is, of course, Jesus' last supper the night before his crucifixion.

This song is about, and in the voice of, Carson McCullers, a (female) American author who did, to be fair, die younger than average-- at 50, of a stroke, and she was not healthy leading up to that.

The song is about a metaphorical supper, however, one at which all the world is welcome: "Each one belongs at this feast."

This includes both the "rich... whole... humble... grand" and the "poor... broken... twisted... proud." Both "the sinner and the sinned-against."

What will they drink to at this feast? Again, both the "pleasures... gains... bliss" on the one hand and the "pains... losses... sorrows" on the other.

She welcomes them all: "Come and be at this table." She urges them to take what is hers, and to share what is theirs in turn. When this happens, "All come together, feeding the soul."

She is saying that her work has attempted to encompass the entire human condition, because only this way can art be satisfied, can the reader be satisfied, can the writer be satisfied.

And when all elements of humanity are represented, the artist and audience will "be as one solid body together."

She is completely dedicated to this ideal. "This is my stand... one strong, true purpose... no hope of rest."

"The love of my life," she says, "is humanity." And yes, she means as far as representing all of humanity in her stories, but to the end of connecting fully with her readers. They have to be able to see themselves in her stories, and to identify with all her characters.

Even if you are not a Southern cafe owner who has been betrayed... you have been betrayed, at some point in your life, so can see yourself in the cafe owner.

The song is the last in a one-person show that Vega wrote about McCullers, and she plays the author onstage. So it's fair to say that this is what Vega hopes she has been able to do in her own work-- to represent, and thereby connect with, all of humanity.

Yes, you might say, but aren't most of Vega's songs about herself?

Maybe, but what better way to connect with humanity than to be... a human?


Next Song: [none so far]

Monday, February 13, 2017

The Ballad of Miss Amelia

This song is from Suzanne Vega's one-person show about the author Carson McCullers. It's a retelling of the plot from her story "The Ballad of the Sad Cafe."

The basic plot is about a woman, Amelia, who marries the wrong man. He almost ruins her life, but she chases him off (with violence). For a while, she is happy with a new man. But then the first one comes back to finish the job (with violence). What made it worse was that the new man helps him.

Framing this story, Vega expresses that his is a very Southern story: "On any Southern afternoon... a face appears inside a house." The face is described as being "terrible... sexless... white... and dim."

It's the face of Amelia, "waiting by the window... sitting by the shutter/ Remembering the laughing/ In he cafe down below."

It makes sense that her face would bear a "terrible" look, if she is remembering the brief good times with the second man. After all, was it all a lie, if he could turn on her with so little provocation, and to aid the man who wanted to hurt her at that?

Why exactly this story is so Southern, I am not sure. It does smack of Tennessee Williams.

Maybe the humidity makes everything sultry and torrid.


Next Song: Carson's Last Supper

Monday, February 6, 2017

Lover, Beloved

This sounds like a love song. And... it's about love, but is it a "love song"?

It starts by positing "lover" and "beloved" as opposites. In fact, when the lover "pursues," the beloved does not stand and wait to be caught, let alone turn and run toward the lover. No-- here, the beloved "flees." They are "from countries apart," but they stay apart, "Each one alone in the land of the heart."

They do have some things in common. Both are "forever stripped bare" of pretense. One desires, the other is desired, passively. They are both "there... in the night," we presume, in bed.

The lover, however, is also somehow a "liar," a dealer in false pretense. He is also a "hero" and a "thief"-- he saves the beloved from isolation, yet steals her solitude, for instance. Thus, his efforts and intentions cancel each other out, and ultimately, he "brings no relief." Frustrating! This is true whether she considers him a "brother" or "husband."

While a lover is a "brave cavalier," nevertheless his love "rais[es] hatred and fear" in the beloved. This is for the above reasons, but also while each "crav[es] the touch" of the other, this desire is for something lacking, and a lack is a weakness, a vulnerability.

Finally, "each bears the burden of loving too much." The lover is distraught that his love is unrequited; the beloved is being smothered by all this affection and attention.

But what about a lover who has died, who has crossed the River "Styx"? He "will send/ Flowers from beyond the end." Even though he is gone, she still relishes his memory. He is "her lover for eternity" since he is no longer in control of his leaving her thoughts, once he has left her side. It seems the only good boyfriend is a dead one.

In the play Torch Song Trilogy. Harvey Fierstein opines: "It's easy to love the dead. They make so few mistakes." Also, they ask so little of you.

This song is pretty, like a love song. But it presents love as a battle between predator and prey, with one party forever hungry for more closeness, and the other desperate for less.

Next Song: The Ballad of Miss Amelia