Portrait of the Knight of Wands

The first song about tarot in this "deck" of songs is "Fool's Complaint," and you can read more about tarot in that entry. This song is, as its title indicates, about another card the knight (equivalent to a jack in a regular playing deck) from the suit called Wands (or Batons).

Since the character is in motion, his card signifies travel and change.

In the speaker's view, the knight has just witnessed the results of a battle, and now views the "last bastions" and "ruins." His reaction is anger; he has "thunder in his face... clouds gathered in the sky." 

There is still hope in the scene, however-- not all the plants are dead. The "flowers" especially remain.

What edifice was attacked? A building or a whole fort or town? We know there is a church nearby, since we see its "belfry," which lies "silent."

The knight is silent as well, and will not relate what has happened. But it was something that was part of "the wider lens of history."

Then comes this enigmatic line: "His mission, the transmission of technology."

Well, yes, that is one interpretation of the "change" his card signifies-- new invention. But why is that his entire mission? After all, the "technology" he wields is, basically, a stick. Another suit is the Sword; isn't that a more technologically advanced bit of weaponry than a cudgel? Yet another suit is the Cup, which implies metal-working, tableware (and all its attendant culture), and even wine-making. Even the Pentacles, the only abstract sign, points toward mathematics, perhaps even astronomy, astrology and religion. The Wand, which relates to magic, is almost anti-science. 

Further, what's the point of bringing technology to a church and a ruin? Is either going to embrace it? 

In any case, he espies a "cannon" and "muttered" that it is "To keep the bishop on his place." He is unhappy about it, but it unclear that he is unhappy that the church is rebellious... or happy about that but unhappy that his power has been checked by the royals and their army, of which he may be a part. 

We now turn toward the knight's state of mind, and find it "melancholy," and "severe"; "his inner burden weighed upon him heavily." Perhaps he was supposed to deliver technology to this building but arrived too late. 

But, like the flowers before, a new sort of "bird" appears to show that life will go on. 

What was the building that is now a ruin? "All the ancient knowledge lay in pieces on the ground." Perhaps, like many abbeys, there was a library here. The book The Name of the Rose is about just such a monastery, in which the monks safeguard, read, and copy old scrolls. Only now all is lost.

It seems the knight had some connection with this place. Was the place for or against technology? Was the knowledge bad because it was ancient and therefore superstitious? Or was the knowledge ancient and therefore rudimentary but fundamental, like that of ancient Greece, upon which so much science has been built? 

Also, was the knight delivering technology to this place? Perhaps he thought if he could modernize some of their ways, he could stop the royals from seeing it as a "bastion" of "ancient," outdated practices and therefore not a threat to progress? But now he sees the library asunder and the church under the watch of the army. They went for the military option, of course.

Or was he spreading knowledge from it, out into the world? And now he returns for more, only to find that because he was gone during the battle, he is the last hope for its dissemination? Does he wish he had been there to help defend it? Is he glad that he wasn't, in that he gets to live on and carry forth its mission, a heavy burden at that? Did he ever even read any of the invaluable scrolls he delivered?

It is not possible to say. The speaker seems selfishly unmoved by any of these scenarios, however: "The cause of all his suffering was not for love of me." It seems that yes, more is on his mind than romance. (Unlike the military men in "Knight Moves" and "The Queen and the Soldier.")

Ultimately, a tarot card is only so big and can transmit only so much information. Like a scroll, or a messenger.

Next Song: Don't Uncork What You Can't Contain.

Lightning

In 1986, composer Philip Glass wrote the music to an album's worth of songs by some of the best living lyricists: Paul Simon (1 song), David Byrne (2), Laurie Anderson (2)... and Suzanne Vega, then 27 years old, who wrote this song and the next we will discuss. The writers did not perform the songs; in this case, Janice Pendarvis sang it. The album was called Songs from Liquid Days.

Most likely, the song is not about lightning itself but some event with similar characteristics: sudden, unexpected, and devastating. The event happened "a while ago," but the effects are still being felt: "It's blazing much too fast... it's happening so quickly."

The imagery continues, implying that the bolt started a fire of sorts, "but give it rain of waiting time/ and it will surely pass, blow over." These last two words are meant in the sense of a passing storm, as in, "The scandal will blow over; we can run him again next election and no one will remember."

Well, the soothing rain of "waiting time" is not here now. Now we have "the flaming time." And she's still in the midst of the fire, "grop[ing] about the embers." She wants to "release [her] stormy mind," and discuss her emotions, but events are too turbulent just yet, and she has to focus. She repeats "blow over," this time in the sense of "The wind is so strong, I think the barn might blow over and collapse!"

The cataclysmic, lightning-like event has left her "Shaken... laughing and undone"... as well with a "sleeplessness" that's keeping her awake like "a blinding bolt." The laughing could be in genuine joy or disbelief.

So, that's rain's coming any minute, right, to cool things down? No, this has all "just begun," even though the lightning struck "a while ago." Maybe she was unable to process anything in the flash itself, but the blaze is now steady enough for her to begin to assess its effects.

As with any sudden event, there is a panic reaction: "...a windy, crazy running." Also, the lightning was so overwhelming, she barely has any recollection of the event itself, or the moments after; it's as if the lightning resulted in "time burned away."

The sensations have been building, now climaxing in an aftershock: "Now I feel it in my blood/ All hot and sharp and white/ With a whipcrack and a thunder/ And a flash of flooding light." The memory of the lightning strike is as real as the strike itself.

When the fire "finally dies," then "there'll be a think and smoky silence in the air," and the "ashes of the time burned away" we discussed earlier. And then we true effects will at last be known, especially, "Who'll be left there."

So... what was the "lightning"? Was it good or bad? Was this a sudden rush of love, a lottery win, receiving an international honor? Or was it more like a car crash, a divorce, an actual natural disaster?

We don't know, and it doesn't really matter. The sequence of events that takes place when any kind of "lightning" strikes is similar. In the split-second of the incident, we are shocked. When we look back, we forget what happened just after, as we were in a state of that shock.

Soon, we regain our senses, and realize that, as Stevie Nicks put it, "the rooms are all on fire." We are in emergency mode. We are flooded with emotions, but the need to respond snaps us into focus.

When we finally remove ourselves and think back to what we just underwent, the realization of its impact hits us like a second lightning bolt. We are finally safe enough to feel the emotions we experienced earlier.

And then things finally subside and return to somewhat-normal. So we look around, to see who make it through the fire with us. If all goes well, it's the people we were hoping would.

Next Song: Freezing