Fool's Complaint

This is a song about tarot cards, a series of cards with pictures which, according to superstition, can tell your future and fate when dealt and "read" by a psychic. This is not the first time Vega has discussed this topic; see the song "Predictions."

There are two cards discussed. One is the Queen of Pentacles (there are some cards with no suits; others have suits of Cups, Swords, Wands, or Pentacles-- five-pointed stars). The other is The Fool, or jester, similar to the Joker in a typical deck of playing cards and likewise suit-less.

The song is short, and mostly an attack on the Queen of Pentacles. I am no expert in tarot, so I looked this card up. Evidently, it is a card related to a focus on the home and what a pregnant couple would call "nesting."

The speaker sees this card, however, as representing a domesticity that precludes wandering. It's not just the Queen prefers to stay home, she insists upon it; this is "domestic tyranny." And, since she will not leave her imperious "golden throne," all things must be brought to her-- and yes, that means all things.

The speaker likens this selfishness to being like a "drain" in a sink or bathtub, whose "vortex" sucks everything toward its bottomless abyss. She is also likened to Rome, in that "all roads lead" to her; "her needs and wants and wishes and whims/ All take precedence."

Since she never works for her gains, she doesn't value them ("never knowing any cost"), or those who bring them to her. She has even invented a game of "fetch" with her servants, as if they were dogs: she "throws around her finery/ For us to fetch when it gets lost."

The speaker decries this state, for both its static sameness and its spoiled selfishness.

Luckily, this is not the speaker's card! Her card is "the Fool." The Fool is not bitter, but "merry." The Fool is not stolid, but a "rootless... with air beneath [his] footstep." The Fool is not confined by schedules, either, but has "Providence as [his] plan."

And the speaker identifies with this attitude, claiming it as her own. She excoriates the whiny, bratty Queen of Pentacles and embraces the happy, happy-go-lucky Fool.

And... that's the whole song. I told you it was short.

Next Song: I Never Wear White

St. Clare

Clare was an Italian saint, a prioress of the Franciscan Order. She dedicated her life to prayer and poverty. In fact, her following was known as the Order of the Poor Ladies, or just the Poor Clares. They were also monastic and preferred silence and hard work; they traveled little.

Ironically, she is the patron saint of goldsmiths and gilders, of embroiderers and needle-workers... and television. (Also: good weather, eye disease, and laundry. Obviously, it was eye disease first, then TV; one wonders if this wasn't a wry commentary on TV itself.)

Evidently, the song is about a woman who has left where she is to visit her home. To "keep her safe/ until she returns", a candle is lit and "that saint"-- which we only learn is Clare from the title-- is called upon for sacred protection.

We see "plaster and paint/ holding the fire." Perhaps this is a candlestick cast to resemble Clare, whose hands are positioned to hold the candle itself. She is described as "a poor woman's saint."

Yet, she "holds all man's desire." Well, she is holding a candle. Perhaps it symbolizes what people want-- light, warmth, tranquility. "Desire" doesn't have to mean sexual desire, does it?

Then why say she is a "woman's" saint, and then discuss a "man's" wants? Why not say "all our desire," meaning all of humanity's wants? Something about this woman-- this sacred, silent Clare-- is desirable, it seems.

The woman who left is now called a "bold little bird." She is told to "fly away home." This is a reference to the nursery rhyme "Ladybug, ladybug/ Fly away home." As ladybugs are also called "ladybird beetles," some have misheard the rhyme to be about an actual bird, not a bug.

In any case, she left here, and is going "away" there. But there is "home," so she is returning there, yes? And then she will "return" to here, we hope, where our candle burns for her.

The speaker wishes she could have accompanied her to smooth the way: "Could I but ride herd/ On the wind and the foam." From "foam," we know the woman is traveling over the sea (as in "oceans/ White with foam" from "God Bless America.") The speaker wishes she could have ridden herd, or been in control of, the waves on that sea, so as to make this woman's sea-path as smooth as possible. 


It is this travelling woman's willingness to travel that makes her desirable. After all, the "souls/ That curl by the fire" like a bunch of homebodies will "never know/ All man's desire." But she travels away from the hearth.

Now it is "spring," which implies the earlier part of the song took place in the winter, a bad time for sea travel. This explains why they were so worried about her, and why they were curled by the fire themselves.

It is early enough for the "snow" to "melt," the "stream" to unfreeze and run, and even "green" things like the water-dwelling vegetable "watercress" to grow. But it is still "cold."

Evidently, out travelling woman made it to dry land. She is shown "barefoot" and "cold," and standing or sitting "by the side of the road" now. She is "holding" both "a lyre," or small harp, and "all man's desire."

Why she had to go "home" to do this is unclear. Is she waiting for a ride to take her to her family's house? Is she lost? Or even shipwrecked on the wrong shore? We aren't told.

The lyre is obviously a symbol of music itself, and of poetry. It is associated with poets like King David and the god Apollo.

So, before, it was a "fire," and now a "lyre" that can "hold all man's desire." Perhaps this shows evolution. Early people craved the heat and protection of the fire, and learned of its ability to help cook food and make pots and tools. Later, when these basic needs were conquered, man could turn his desire to finer things, like the arts.

The song ends as it began. The implication is that the woman has not yet returned. The speaker awaits her still, praying for the saint's intervention and keeping the candle lit for her. (The only difference is that we now know it is a "white" candle, if that is significant.)

People go home to visit all the time, then come back to the place they now dwell. They usually travel in good weather if it can be helped, so we may assume that this woman's need to go "home" was urgent. Yet, once she has arrived on her native shore, she seems in no hurry to make it all the way from the port to her destination point. Or has she been home, and is now on her way back to us?

While it is difficult to even understand the sequence of events being described, it is harder still to understand what is being said here.

It seems odd to talk about saints, and women too poor to afford shoes, being ones who hold "all man's desire." Whether "man" means male people or all people, surely many people desire more-- or at least other-- than what it is these women offer, which is enlightenment and piety.

What about the things Clare herself is patron of? Don't people "desire" gold, and fine embroidery, and television? I'm sorry, but the statistics are pretty clear-- people want good reception as much as they want godly redemption.

Perhaps we are reading too much into the song. Perhaps the imagery is merely impressionistic. It is very pretty, sparse in its arrangements as an Order of the Poor Ladies' cloister.

Or perhaps one needs to know more about Suzanne Vega, or Saint Clare, to truly understand it.


Next Song: Zephyr and I