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.

World Before Columbus

This simply-worded and -structured song is one of Vega's loveliest. The sentiment is pure and deep, without being... sentimental.

It imagines the speaker's world without the one she loves. If he left, or died-- or for some other reason his love and life were "taken from" her-- the "color" would leave her life. She would lose "half [her] sight," she counts so much on being able to know his perspective. After the colors faded, the "light" itself would go, not just "dim," but "dark."

Her world would be "cold"-- the very "trees would freeze"-- and "cruel."

Now, popular misconception holds that, before Columbus, everyone thought the world was flat, but he proved it to be round. In fact, the world's shape-- and even its size-- were known to the ancients, even without sailing anywhere (they observed lunar eclipses, in which Earth always cast a round shadow; only spheres do that).

Still, we know the myth of the "flat Earth" theory, and here, the speaker so depends on her lover that without him, her world would be "flat." Someone could "sail to the edge, and [she]'d be there, looking down."

"Looking down" has many meanings. She would be "sad," but also "looking down" over the edge, as if saying she was contemplating jumping off it. Later in the song, she confirms this: "I'd swim over the brim."

After lauding explorers like Columbus, she then reconsiders and decides that they sought relatively worthless treasure: "land... riches... trinkets." But "oh, they never will have you." Even his "hair" is made of "gold" and "copper." She asks, "How could they weigh the worth of you, so rare?" They would totally miss the fact that his love is precious beyond that of any precious metal or gem.

Is the speaker over-dependent on her lover-- that without him, she would have no light or warmth in her life, not even a will to live? Perhaps. But I don't think this song lapses into codependency-- it merely engages in the kind of exaggeration that typifies love songs. Would it be as powerful to say, "If your love were taken from me, I'd be upset for a long while, but fine in the long run, especially with my strong support system of friends and family?"

And what of Columbus-- did others reach the "New" World before he did? Historians seem to agree that this is the case. Nevertheless, it was Columbus-- not a nice man, by current scholarship-- whose voyages opened (what came to be known as) the Americas to interaction with the rest of the planet, and who established a base here whose descendants remain to this day.

Again, this heartfelt song is one of Vega's purest expressions of affection, and one of her just-plain-prettiest songs. Maybe if someone had felt like this about ol' Columbus, he would have just stayed home with her.


Next Song: Lolita