The Silver Lady

This rare track is available on volume 4 of the Close Up series.

What starts off as a traditional folksong turns into a meditation on an issue of incredible emotional trauma-- what to do with an elderly parent, especially one with mental-health issues.

The song begins as if describing a child's visit with an imaginary fairy-friend: "When I was a little girl... I once spoke to the Silver Lady/ But I never saw her again." It continues that this mystical lady "flew out of the sky" and could go "riding on the water" and on a "golden pony." So, typical fairy-tale imagery.

Then there is a note of sadness: "Only once did I hear her laugh/ And it echoed far and lonely." So, despite her otherworldly trappings, she is not some sort of angel. She was "the crazy man's only daughter," which might have something to do with her state of mind.

We now hear the conversation alluded to in the opening verse, about the one time our speaker actually "spoke with the Silver Lady." The conversation took place on a riverbank.

The child approached the Lady, who was crying, to comfort her: "If I had wings like you, I would be flying... and singing."

She says she had no wings-- perhaps she only looked like she was flying when she was galloping on horseback?-- or "I would surely be gone."

She continues that she is her father's only daughter, but that he had older sons... who all left her to take care of their "crazy" father, who is also aging.

And now, she is torn. She wants desperately to leave, and is feeling strangled by her being tethered to him: "I feel the ocean pulling me... I want to go with [the breezes]... This life is killing me." But how can she leave him, helpless and alone? Plus, her abandonment would "break his heart."

She turns away, and the child follows the river back home.

"The next day I heard she had taken her horse/ And gone off to parts unknown." This is the first point we know for certain that the Lady is not just a figment of the child's vivid imagination. 

So the Lady does leave. And her father? He stayed at home, stopped coming into town, and started "roaming down by the riverside." And if rumors are to be believed, he committed suicide, drowning himself in the river.

The speaker never saw the Silver Lady again. But now, she says, "when I felt a silver breeze/ I knew she had sent it from wherever she was/ To tell us that now she was free."

For a song that begins in fantasy, the scenario is all too real. The "burnout" felt by caregivers, especially those who care for those with Alzheimer's and other conditions, can be devastating, as can the guilt of leaving them. And far too often, it is their daughters left with this obligation, while the sons are free to leave and start their own families. 

Today, at least for those of us in cities, there are several options. Caregivers can be given respite workers to take care of their loved ones, so that they can continue to have somewhat-normal lives. And in some cases, the best option is round-the-clock professional care in a dedicated facility, provided by people working in shifts to avoid exactly this sort of burnout.

Mental illness never takes a break, let alone a vacation. But human beings, even machines, cannot be expected to work ceaselessly. The Silver Lady should have insisted that her brothers help. She could have reached out to her neighbors, to the local clergy or other charitable organizations. But it sounds like this all took place in a rural setting, with few such resources.

What begins as a child's fairytale of a beautiful Silver Lady turns out to be a lesson in how poorly society has dealt with mental illness throughout most of its history. At least now things are beginning to change, so that women don't have to go gray-- sorry, "silver"-- so young.

Next Song: Crack in the Wall 

Ironbound/ Fancy Poultry

This song uses what is called a "motif," an image that recurs several times. The motif is the idea of things, people, and places being "ironbound."

There is an overhead structure, probably the trestle from an elevated commuter train: "Beams and bridges... the rails run 'round." Its beams-- along with the random wires overhead in any city-- don't so much block the sunlight as bisect into "little triangles."

The trestle is supported by iron beams, regularly spaced. This colonnade makes the "section" beneath it feel "ironbound." Other areas shown to be bounded by iron fencing are the "schoolyard" and the "market." The iron is old, with much visible "rust." This has been going on a long, long time.

And, ultimately, the "border" between the residents and any other possible life is, likewise, "ironbound." This area's many fenced in subsections are revealed as the characters move through them.

The only action is of a woman dropping her child off at school, then going to the market. By watching her, we learn something about her life and circumstances.

She lives near a marketplace where live chickens are displayed and butchered onsite for sale. We see "the blood and feathers near her feet," and later hear the cries of the chicken sellers.

The woman is of indistinct ethnicity-- we are told that her skin is of a "light and sweet coffee color"-- but perhaps she is Portuguese like others in her neighborhood.

We "watch" her walk her son up to the gate of the school. Both are "bound up in iron and wire and fate." The iron beams and metal wires that surround them serve as a metaphor for a prison of a sort, a place and situation that cannot be escaped.

She has some hope for the children, however. Aside from the chickens and the people, the only living thing there is some scraggly, hardy vegetation. She knows the children "will grow like weeds on a fence... they come up through the cracks." She tells us that they "try to make sense" of their situation.
But she stops short of saying they will be able to do anything about it.

"She touches him goodbye," but does not embrace or kiss her son. Perhaps he is too old to be comfortable with such displays in front of his classmates. Or perhaps the very coldness and restrictiveness of their environment has chilled such usual parental warmth.

Leaving the schoolyard, "she stops at the stall," presumably the one selling chickens. She "fingers the ring," probably a wedding ring. Where is her husband, the boy's father? Did he leave for work earlier? Is he home, unemployed? Did he divorce her, simply fly, or even die?

She "feels a longing," but, it seems, not for him. She longs to be, simply, "away from the ironbound border." What seems to trigger the longing, after all, is not the ring. It's the opening of her purse. Why would the routine act of finding money for groceries in her wallet call forth this emotional reaction? Does she miss the man less than the financial stability he provided?

Does she struggle with the idea of selling or pawning the ring, as if doing so would be an admission of the finality of the man's departure? That he left or died and is never coming back? If it's all she has left of him, we can well imagine her dilemma.

The song closes with the cry of the chicken vendor. But it is clear that this sub-song (it has its own title) is also meant to symbolize the treatment of women. It even calls to mind the specter of female trafficking and prostitution.

What is being sold? "Breasts and thighs," the visible parts of a woman most often sexualized. Also, "hearts" are for sale-- emotional commitment can be had for a price. "Backs," the part associate with work (as in "back-breaking labor") are cheap; for not much, you can have a woman cook and clean for you. She could be a maid, a wife, does it matter?

And "wings"? They are "nearly fee." Chicken wings do not have much meat, and so would be sold cheaply. But metaphorically, a woman's "wings"-- her senses of independence and freedom-- are only "nearly" free. Not free... enough. Still, ultimately, ironbound.


Next Song: In the Eye