"The Man in Black" is, of course, Johnny Cash; he sings a song by that title as well. But it's also Wesley, in The Princess Bride, as The Dread Pirate Roberts. And then there are The Men in Black, alien hunters from the movie of that title. Now, the 2016 TV show Westworld, based on a 1970s movie, has a character named "Man in Black." (Zorro is also a man in black, although not called as such.)
A quick search reveals that "Man in Black" is used for everyone from racing's Dale Earnhardt to characters from TV's Lost and filmdom's For a Few Dollar's More-- and novels from Stephen King back to... Geoffrey Chaucer!
However, "women in black" are far rarer. The novel The Woman in Black is only from 1983, and everything based on it is even more recent. There is also a movement of anti-war protesters who came to be known as The Women in Black.
Well, now we might finally have a musical Woman in Black to compare to Cash.
The song is basically two lists: one of the kinds of people who do wear white, and then another of those who wear black.
"White," it says, is for: virgins, "children in summer," and brides.
"Black," meanwhile, is for: outlaws, dancers, "the poet of the dark," the crone, the bastard, "the schoolgirl in uniform," "the servant in the hall," the gangster, and the widow.
What's wrong with white? Nothing in general, just that it's wrong for her. Again, why? Well, "white is too blinding/ Always reminding/ Of the innocent who fall."
So, black is either for those who already fell, or for those who were never innocent to begin with and started, so to speak, on the floor. "Those," as she puts it, "of my station in life" (see the above list).
Black, furthermore, "is for secrets... it's the shade and the shadow." While white is "blinding" and revealing, black hides, and allows things to be hidden. While white shows things to the eye, black is "the depth into your eye," the pupil, the part that sees. Yes, ironically, it is the blackest part of the eye that lets the light in.
Let's look again at the list of black-wearers. The outlaw and gangster are criminals; of course they need to hide. The poet doesn't need to hide, but prefers to, the better to observe without being observed. The widow wears black out of grief and somberness; she is not supposed to attract men's romantic attention with color. So these prefer black by choice.
The servant is never to be the center of attention, but is meant to serve those who are. The old crone and bastard are, by their nature, outcasts and affronts to decent society, and so shunted into the shadows. The schoolgirl is likewise deemed unimportant by society-- she is both young and female, making her doubly dismiss-able. These are made to wear black so that they fade into the background, even against their will.
Then there is the dancer. She chooses to wear black, yet is in the spotlight! Public as she is, she as a person is less important than her art, her movements. By wearing black, she disappears as an individual, and becomes a mere screen on to which the audience projects its self-image.
"Black is the truth of my situation," the speaker concludes. "All other colors lie." So she either is made to wear black but has embraced it, or has chosen it outright. It allows her to hide.
Musically, the song is one of Vega's hardest-rocking numbers, at least since 99.9oF.
Next song: Portrait of the Knight of Wands
Showing posts with label secret. Show all posts
Showing posts with label secret. Show all posts
Monday, October 31, 2016
Monday, September 5, 2016
Angel's Doorway
This is not a song about an angel, but of a man with the name of Angel. We learn of his line of work by dint of clues.
When Angel enters his house, his clothes cast a "cloud" of "dust and dirt and destruction." With only this much information, it's possible he is in demolition work.
He also works amid "fires and flesh and confusion." So it's more likely he's a fire fighter.
Whatever he does, he cannot talk about. At his "door," he has to "leave it on the floor." He is told "Don't bring it in."
That seems harsh. He had to live though it, now he can't even talk about it? Who came up with that policy?
His wife or girlfriend. "He can't show/ What she doesn't want to know/ Those things he's seen... that life he can't tell."
It's bad enough that she can "smell" the ashes on his clothes. Does she actually have to listen to his tales of death, gore, pain and loss? No, she has decided. No, she doesn't. Or at very least, she can't handle it, and is willing to admit that.
But that protection of her psyche comes at a price to his. "Inside his brain/ It's never the same/ Though he tries to maintain the illusion." Not being able to share your life with your spouse has got to make a rough job even worse. He can't about it at work, because it's the job and he has to "suck it up." But he can't talk about it at home, either. So where can he unburden himself?
There are jobs that we leave at the door. Police officers, soldiers, surgeons, rescue workers, funeral- home staff, prison guards... all have stories that they have to leave at the workplace and cannot share with their spouses. Sometimes because the spouse loves this person but simply cannot stomach the "realness" of the stories he or she lives every day.
People who see accident or crime victims on a daily basis may have to develop a numbness to that horror in order to do their jobs. And they need support to help them deal with seeing the absolute worst of humanity, and human suffering, on a daily basis. They need a place to empty themselves of these stories, to share their experiences with others who have dealt with similar things. Maybe a bar, maybe a support group.
But not, in many cases, home. The one place they should feel safe is also the place their spouses want to feel safe. Ironically, that spouse may have been drawn to someone who is strong in this way precisely because they are not, themselves, brave. A fearful, insulated person might want a knight in Kevlar armor to protect them... but then never talk about how they are doing just that.
So why is this character named Angel? Perhaps because he does the heavenly work of saving people every day... and so lives an otherworldly life he can never explain to those he is saving.
Next Song: "Anniversary"
When Angel enters his house, his clothes cast a "cloud" of "dust and dirt and destruction." With only this much information, it's possible he is in demolition work.
He also works amid "fires and flesh and confusion." So it's more likely he's a fire fighter.
Whatever he does, he cannot talk about. At his "door," he has to "leave it on the floor." He is told "Don't bring it in."
That seems harsh. He had to live though it, now he can't even talk about it? Who came up with that policy?
His wife or girlfriend. "He can't show/ What she doesn't want to know/ Those things he's seen... that life he can't tell."
It's bad enough that she can "smell" the ashes on his clothes. Does she actually have to listen to his tales of death, gore, pain and loss? No, she has decided. No, she doesn't. Or at very least, she can't handle it, and is willing to admit that.
But that protection of her psyche comes at a price to his. "Inside his brain/ It's never the same/ Though he tries to maintain the illusion." Not being able to share your life with your spouse has got to make a rough job even worse. He can't about it at work, because it's the job and he has to "suck it up." But he can't talk about it at home, either. So where can he unburden himself?
There are jobs that we leave at the door. Police officers, soldiers, surgeons, rescue workers, funeral- home staff, prison guards... all have stories that they have to leave at the workplace and cannot share with their spouses. Sometimes because the spouse loves this person but simply cannot stomach the "realness" of the stories he or she lives every day.
People who see accident or crime victims on a daily basis may have to develop a numbness to that horror in order to do their jobs. And they need support to help them deal with seeing the absolute worst of humanity, and human suffering, on a daily basis. They need a place to empty themselves of these stories, to share their experiences with others who have dealt with similar things. Maybe a bar, maybe a support group.
But not, in many cases, home. The one place they should feel safe is also the place their spouses want to feel safe. Ironically, that spouse may have been drawn to someone who is strong in this way precisely because they are not, themselves, brave. A fearful, insulated person might want a knight in Kevlar armor to protect them... but then never talk about how they are doing just that.
So why is this character named Angel? Perhaps because he does the heavenly work of saving people every day... and so lives an otherworldly life he can never explain to those he is saving.
Next Song: "Anniversary"
Monday, July 25, 2016
Pornographer's Dream
Bettie Page was a real person. She was a pin-up model, and a very sexual one at that. Some of the photos of her feature her, and others, in states of bondage or domination. What was all the more remarkable is that her career largely spanned the 1950s, often thought of as a very stodgy time.
Page comes up later in the song, so she is not necessarily the "she" spoken of in the song's opening line. All we know for certain is that the person in question is compared to Page later on.
The opening line seems to have been something someone said to Vega, about someone else. Which made Vega wonder, what does a pornographer have left to dream of? Can't he write and direct any scenario he can imagine? As she put it, "What kind of a dream would he have/ That hadn't been spent?"
No, he wouldn't dream of the "flesh" he could have access to. Rather: "Wouldn't he dream of the thing/ He never could never quite get the touch of?... He's dreaming of what might be... of mystery."
Now, we turn to Page (pun intended). If anyone was, she was a pornographer's dream-- her proportions, her openness, her bravery, her sunshine-bright smile-- at once innocent and seductive. But what was the real secret of her, well, success as a pin-up?
It's the element of surprise. "Who's to know what she'll show?" In other words, is it "what she reveals, or what she conceals" that "is the key to our pleasure?"
The pornographer dreams of the women whose sexual contours and comportment he will never capture on camera. The viewer of a Page pin-up is as excited by the "leather" she wears as he is by the bare parts of her body.
Someone tossed an unusual remark to Vega, and she caught it. She knew that the person had simply meant to say that the woman in question was very sexy. But what he hadn't realized he had implied that what was sexy about her was that she was unattainable. She would remain a "dream."
"Out of our hands, over our heads," and other expressions are employed... but even Vega is no match for Keats, who dedicated his famed "Ode on a Grecian Urn" to this very subject: "Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss/ Though winning near the goal... She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss/ For ever wilt though love, and she be fair!"
Some things are best kept "out of reach," enshrined in art, but not experienced in reality. Whether captured on a ceramic vase or a piece of film, "a thing of beauty is a joy forever" (same poet, different poem).
Next Song: Frank and Ava
Page comes up later in the song, so she is not necessarily the "she" spoken of in the song's opening line. All we know for certain is that the person in question is compared to Page later on.
The opening line seems to have been something someone said to Vega, about someone else. Which made Vega wonder, what does a pornographer have left to dream of? Can't he write and direct any scenario he can imagine? As she put it, "What kind of a dream would he have/ That hadn't been spent?"
No, he wouldn't dream of the "flesh" he could have access to. Rather: "Wouldn't he dream of the thing/ He never could never quite get the touch of?... He's dreaming of what might be... of mystery."
Now, we turn to Page (pun intended). If anyone was, she was a pornographer's dream-- her proportions, her openness, her bravery, her sunshine-bright smile-- at once innocent and seductive. But what was the real secret of her, well, success as a pin-up?
It's the element of surprise. "Who's to know what she'll show?" In other words, is it "what she reveals, or what she conceals" that "is the key to our pleasure?"
The pornographer dreams of the women whose sexual contours and comportment he will never capture on camera. The viewer of a Page pin-up is as excited by the "leather" she wears as he is by the bare parts of her body.
Someone tossed an unusual remark to Vega, and she caught it. She knew that the person had simply meant to say that the woman in question was very sexy. But what he hadn't realized he had implied that what was sexy about her was that she was unattainable. She would remain a "dream."
"Out of our hands, over our heads," and other expressions are employed... but even Vega is no match for Keats, who dedicated his famed "Ode on a Grecian Urn" to this very subject: "Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss/ Though winning near the goal... She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss/ For ever wilt though love, and she be fair!"
Some things are best kept "out of reach," enshrined in art, but not experienced in reality. Whether captured on a ceramic vase or a piece of film, "a thing of beauty is a joy forever" (same poet, different poem).
Next Song: Frank and Ava
Monday, May 30, 2016
If I Were a Weapon
How far we have come since "If You Were in My Movie."
This is a couple that should be glad, at least, that they are breaking up.
He says that she reminds him of a "gun." In trying to unpack that, she guesses he means that she is "lethal at close range" with her words, and also capable of shutting down communications (she has a "silencer") and shocking people.
She feels, however, that she is a "needle." She's always "pulling on the thread," which could either mean that he is as annoying as a loose thread... or that when she pulls on the thread of one of his lies, it unravels endlessly into an unbroken string of falsehoods. Also, he doesn't listen; she is always "making the same point" and "wondering if [he] heard."
Meanwhile, what weapon does she think he is? A "hammer." He's very "blunt" in his honesty. He's "heavy at the end," which seems to mean that when he starts to say something hurtful, he never stops before finishing. And he is "coming down on [her]" with criticism and threats from on high.
She then admits that she has a secret weapon. She likens it to a "pocket knife" in that the blade is "concealed." This language implies that she knows a secret of his that can hurt him. She doesn't want to use it, but she will if she is backed into a corner. How do we know it's his? Once he "sees" it, he will want it "back." Perhaps it is an incriminating photograph or receipt.
She concludes that: "If I am that weapon/ I am pointing now at you." What has been a name-calling contest has now escalated to threats.
Why did it get to this point? This is not just a stand-off. He has a "hostage." Evidently, the divorce involves a custody battle, and he's winning.
If he forces her hand, she will ruin his reputation. But if he backs down on the custody issue, she is willing to continue to negotiate: "We'll talk this down until we see this through."
This is a couple that needs to no longer be a couple. It is good that they are separating. Does it hurt? Yes, but if they stay together, they will just keep causing each other more pain.
I may not be a marriage counselor, but if a couple's fights are about what kind of "weapon" the other person is, they probably they should no longer share a mailbox.
Next Song: Harbor Song
This is a couple that should be glad, at least, that they are breaking up.
He says that she reminds him of a "gun." In trying to unpack that, she guesses he means that she is "lethal at close range" with her words, and also capable of shutting down communications (she has a "silencer") and shocking people.
She feels, however, that she is a "needle." She's always "pulling on the thread," which could either mean that he is as annoying as a loose thread... or that when she pulls on the thread of one of his lies, it unravels endlessly into an unbroken string of falsehoods. Also, he doesn't listen; she is always "making the same point" and "wondering if [he] heard."
Meanwhile, what weapon does she think he is? A "hammer." He's very "blunt" in his honesty. He's "heavy at the end," which seems to mean that when he starts to say something hurtful, he never stops before finishing. And he is "coming down on [her]" with criticism and threats from on high.
She then admits that she has a secret weapon. She likens it to a "pocket knife" in that the blade is "concealed." This language implies that she knows a secret of his that can hurt him. She doesn't want to use it, but she will if she is backed into a corner. How do we know it's his? Once he "sees" it, he will want it "back." Perhaps it is an incriminating photograph or receipt.
She concludes that: "If I am that weapon/ I am pointing now at you." What has been a name-calling contest has now escalated to threats.
Why did it get to this point? This is not just a stand-off. He has a "hostage." Evidently, the divorce involves a custody battle, and he's winning.
If he forces her hand, she will ruin his reputation. But if he backs down on the custody issue, she is willing to continue to negotiate: "We'll talk this down until we see this through."
This is a couple that needs to no longer be a couple. It is good that they are separating. Does it hurt? Yes, but if they stay together, they will just keep causing each other more pain.
I may not be a marriage counselor, but if a couple's fights are about what kind of "weapon" the other person is, they probably they should no longer share a mailbox.
Next Song: Harbor Song
Monday, October 19, 2015
Fat Man & Dancing Girl
Evidently, carnivals are rife with "fat men." In the title track to "Tunnel of Love," Springsteen sings, "Fat man sitting on a little stool/ takes my money... hands me two tickets."
Here, there is a lot of carnival and circus imagery: a barker or "megaphone man," a "dancing girl," a "monkey" doing a "trick," an "MC" (short for "master of ceremonies"), and a "tightrope." Also, a "fat man." (The imagery of the packaging really pays off here.)
The carnival starts with an empty field, "a wide, flat land," the repeated short 'a' making it sound very flat indeed. There are no trees or buildings, so "no shadow or shade." She then puns "shade" with the cliche "shade of a doubt." Whatever is to follow is pretty clear, then? In fact, it is about the benefits of concealment.
We meet two characters. One is a loud man, with a "megaphone" to make his voice even louder. The other is a quiet woman. She is trying to make herself quieter, "covering her most of her mouth" with her "hand."
When we "fall in love," the speaker now posits, we do so "with a bright idea," and in the context of how "a world is revealed to you." We don't fall in love with a person as much as out idea of the person (which may be wrong) and further, there is more of the world that is not "revealed to you." In fact, reality is as artificial as a vaudevillian act, such as a "fat man and dancing girl", and-- and this is the key line--
"Most of the show is concealed from view."
Next is a line about a children's game: Monkey in the Middle. Two children toss a ball over one in the middle, dubbed the "monkey." If she catches the ball, the one who threw it moves to the middle, becomes the new monkey, and the game continues with the former monkey now becoming one of the throwers.
Now we meet the ringmaster, the MC. His name is "Billy Purl" (not the more obvious "Pearl," for some reason), which is only the case because we needed it to rhyme with "girl." He reminds us of the MC introducing Sergeant Pepper's band, "Billy Shears." Our Billy is The International Fun Boy, no less. What qualifies him to lead the proceedings? "He knows the worth of a beautiful girl."
He's not shallow... the audience is! He's just giving them what they want.
Next, we have another act: "the tightrope." The idea of walking a tightrope is a common metaphor for trying to choose the only path between two horrible outcomes. If she doesn't reveal the artifice, she is participating in a lie. If she does, the show is over. "Never dreamed I would fall," she says, since she does, in fact give away the secret... that there is a secret, a backstage.
Now the monkey is back, not singing this time, but doing a repetitive "trick." Again the speaker wishes for his speedy removal: "It's making me nervous."
And now the show is over. The carnival has moved to another empty field to pitch the big top anew. We see the megaphone man and the shy girl again.
What will the choice be this time? "Does she tell the truth?/ Does she hide the lie?" Or does she stay on the tightrope, speaking the truth aloud, but alone: "Does she say it so no one can know?" After all, she is only covering "most of" her mouth.
Secrets are an inevitable part of life. Members of couples keep secrets from each other, and from other couples. Everyone knows this, because they are keeping secrets themselves. The movie This is Where I Leave You demonstrates why, as a widow with no boundaries shares tales of her late husband's sexual prowess at his memorial service, to the embarrassment of all (most of all, his children).
Yet, if everyone shared everything, that would make life very uncomfortable, perhaps even unlivable. "The rest of the show is concealed from view." Why? "It's all part of the show."
Knowing what's going on backstage, how the movie-makers or magicians crafted a particular illusion, seeing the actors out of costume... these things ruin a show.
If you do what the Wizard of Oz says, and "pay no attention to the man behind the curtain," then you are overwhelmed by Oz. But if you do see the levers, pulleys, safety pins, and duct tape holding it all together, the magic itself will be what vanishes.
And then you are wiser, perhaps. But did you enjoy the show more, this way, or less?
Next Song: (If You Were) In My Movie
Here, there is a lot of carnival and circus imagery: a barker or "megaphone man," a "dancing girl," a "monkey" doing a "trick," an "MC" (short for "master of ceremonies"), and a "tightrope." Also, a "fat man." (The imagery of the packaging really pays off here.)
The carnival starts with an empty field, "a wide, flat land," the repeated short 'a' making it sound very flat indeed. There are no trees or buildings, so "no shadow or shade." She then puns "shade" with the cliche "shade of a doubt." Whatever is to follow is pretty clear, then? In fact, it is about the benefits of concealment.
We meet two characters. One is a loud man, with a "megaphone" to make his voice even louder. The other is a quiet woman. She is trying to make herself quieter, "covering her most of her mouth" with her "hand."
When we "fall in love," the speaker now posits, we do so "with a bright idea," and in the context of how "a world is revealed to you." We don't fall in love with a person as much as out idea of the person (which may be wrong) and further, there is more of the world that is not "revealed to you." In fact, reality is as artificial as a vaudevillian act, such as a "fat man and dancing girl", and-- and this is the key line--
"Most of the show is concealed from view."
Next is a line about a children's game: Monkey in the Middle. Two children toss a ball over one in the middle, dubbed the "monkey." If she catches the ball, the one who threw it moves to the middle, becomes the new monkey, and the game continues with the former monkey now becoming one of the throwers.
Here, however, it seems like there is an actual monkey! He's chattering away, "singing that tune," and annoying the speaker. Perhaps he represents a third party in the relationship, a third wheel or hanger-on.
Now we meet the ringmaster, the MC. His name is "Billy Purl" (not the more obvious "Pearl," for some reason), which is only the case because we needed it to rhyme with "girl." He reminds us of the MC introducing Sergeant Pepper's band, "Billy Shears." Our Billy is The International Fun Boy, no less. What qualifies him to lead the proceedings? "He knows the worth of a beautiful girl."
He's not shallow... the audience is! He's just giving them what they want.
Next, we have another act: "the tightrope." The idea of walking a tightrope is a common metaphor for trying to choose the only path between two horrible outcomes. If she doesn't reveal the artifice, she is participating in a lie. If she does, the show is over. "Never dreamed I would fall," she says, since she does, in fact give away the secret... that there is a secret, a backstage.
Now the monkey is back, not singing this time, but doing a repetitive "trick." Again the speaker wishes for his speedy removal: "It's making me nervous."
And now the show is over. The carnival has moved to another empty field to pitch the big top anew. We see the megaphone man and the shy girl again.
What will the choice be this time? "Does she tell the truth?/ Does she hide the lie?" Or does she stay on the tightrope, speaking the truth aloud, but alone: "Does she say it so no one can know?" After all, she is only covering "most of" her mouth.
But "it's all part of the show."
Secrets are an inevitable part of life. Members of couples keep secrets from each other, and from other couples. Everyone knows this, because they are keeping secrets themselves. The movie This is Where I Leave You demonstrates why, as a widow with no boundaries shares tales of her late husband's sexual prowess at his memorial service, to the embarrassment of all (most of all, his children).
Yet, if everyone shared everything, that would make life very uncomfortable, perhaps even unlivable. "The rest of the show is concealed from view." Why? "It's all part of the show."
Knowing what's going on backstage, how the movie-makers or magicians crafted a particular illusion, seeing the actors out of costume... these things ruin a show.
If you do what the Wizard of Oz says, and "pay no attention to the man behind the curtain," then you are overwhelmed by Oz. But if you do see the levers, pulleys, safety pins, and duct tape holding it all together, the magic itself will be what vanishes.
And then you are wiser, perhaps. But did you enjoy the show more, this way, or less?
Next Song: (If You Were) In My Movie
Monday, March 30, 2015
Knight Moves
It seems possible that the "queen" in the first line here is the one from the previous song, "The Queen and the Soldier."
However, the point of view keeps shifting, here, between "her" and "me/you." So there are several possibilities.
One is that the queen is one person, and the speaker another, sometimes revealing her own thoughts and actions in her own voice, and sometimes narrating the queen's story. Imagine one person reading a play-- sometimes the character "speaks," sometimes the narrator does, although only one person is actually talking, and the character is not "real."
Another is that there are two people here. One is the narrator telling us about the queen, and the other is the queen herself, speaking her own words.
But if the queen and the speaker are the same person, there is yet another scenario-- that the speaker is saying "I guess I have been acting like a queen." In this case, there is a bit of sarcasm in the presentation. Let's say you have been "putting out fires," as the saying goes, all day at the office, and then yet another crisis rises. In you stride-- saying, "Don't worry folks, the fireman's back," meaning yourself.
If this is the case, the speaker is saying, "Wow, I thought I was a queen and in charge, but I guess I allowed myself to be manipulated there." Like the queen in the last song who at first is imperious, then allows herself to be bowed to the ground by a soldier, this queen (whoever she is) has turned herself into a pawn. We note the supplanting of the human royalty with that of the chessboard, as well; the "soldier" last time is now the "knight" of the title.
This queen has had a "blurry" night. Perhaps there has been alcohol, or simply a lot of bad judgement. Now, in the "very clear dawn," the consequences become apparent. Evidently, she has fallen for someone.
She asks if he is in a relationship, or single. She asks if he plays the field or is capable of commitment. And then she asks what she really wants to know: "Do you love me?"
Now we remember that there are several meanings of the word "false." One is "untrue," as to one's own nature. But one is "unfaithful." She may be in a relationship herself, although this is not revealed.
Then there is a first allusion to time, a "secret prophecy" about what will happen in the future. There is a bit of oxymoron in the phrase, as a prophet is usually fairly public about his prediction, but there have been prophecies known only to a soothsayer and his client.
If you want to judge her, however, for her false move, first, "hold it up and see"-- examine both sides. "It's one side stone"-- cold and inert-- and "one side fire"-- very much the opposite.
But what is this "it"? Is the "move"? Or is the "it"... the queen? The queen, who is the object of everyone's "desire."
Well, they "want to know" if she is available, if she could, or even does, love them.
And now the speaker addresses "you," but this seems to be another "you," most likely the listener. At this point, the song take a turn from the abstract to the concrete. The speaker is "spitting out all the bitterness/ Along with half of my last drink." (Has she started drinking again, even in the "very clear dawn"?)
Now she tells us about "your" (the listener's) "woman," who is "crying in the hall." This is, admittedly, very confusing.
Or perhaps things are finally becoming clearer.
It seems that there are three people involved. One is a man in a relationship (the listener) who not only is cheating on his partner, but he brought his new mistress (the speaker) home. To his house. While his partner is there.
Starting again from the beginning, it seems that the partner (the "her") is the queen. She wakes up, hungover, to learn that her husband has brought a woman home. She thought she had control over him, but she clearly does not, she now sees. Now, she wants to know how many times he has cheated, and if he has only made love to them or fallen in love with them or what... but mostly if he still loves her.
If one would say that his cheating is somehow her fault (if you "hold it against" her), that she drove him to it, she seems like she is a tease-- the stone/fire image-- who strings men along, the object of "all men's desire." She had enjoyed wielding this queen-like control. But it has backfired.
And now the mistress is in the middle, or at least at the edge, of all this. The wife wakes up to hear a woman's voice alongside her man's through the door, and they now can hear her crying in the hall at his betrayal.
The mistress (whom we know know is the main "I") spits out her drink, and compares it to "drinking gasoline," less the solution than part of the problem. The mistress now asks the series of questions to the man about his capabilities of love and fidelity.
The lines "Walk on her blind side/ Was the answer to the joke" are now clear as well. The man was being strung along, like all other men, by this unattainable partner. They were living together, she was "his" woman, and yet she was not sleeping together, still sure that his desire for her would keep him faithful.
His response to her cruel "joke" was to simply cheat on her. She was "blind" to the possibility, due to her ego, and would never suspect. (This could be the meaning of the title-- in chess, a knight can move over other pieces, blindsiding them from their other sides. Also, there is the obvious "knight/night" pun, as the cheating "moves" happen then.) Eventually, the man was able to bring women home and she still didn't know. Until now.
Still, "there isn't a political bone in her body." The "queen" never did this to assert power, it seems. So... why did she?
"She would rather be a riddle," and unknowable, rather than be in a full, intimate relationship. Something about that scares her, maybe. "She keeps challenging the future with a profound lack of history," we are told. If she has no past at all, perhaps this means she is a virgin. Perhaps all she knows of sex is the excitement of the chase. Like the dog who chases cars-- what would it do with one if it caught it?
And so she plays the only game she knows, the tease that allows her to be in control. Turns out, it wasn't a game... and the man did not like being played.
And now it is her turn to answer the questions from him-- can she love? Many, none... one? Him?
All everyone wants to know is if they are loved. And the hardest part is that each wants the other to go first.
Next Song: Neighborhood Girls
However, the point of view keeps shifting, here, between "her" and "me/you." So there are several possibilities.
One is that the queen is one person, and the speaker another, sometimes revealing her own thoughts and actions in her own voice, and sometimes narrating the queen's story. Imagine one person reading a play-- sometimes the character "speaks," sometimes the narrator does, although only one person is actually talking, and the character is not "real."
Another is that there are two people here. One is the narrator telling us about the queen, and the other is the queen herself, speaking her own words.
But if the queen and the speaker are the same person, there is yet another scenario-- that the speaker is saying "I guess I have been acting like a queen." In this case, there is a bit of sarcasm in the presentation. Let's say you have been "putting out fires," as the saying goes, all day at the office, and then yet another crisis rises. In you stride-- saying, "Don't worry folks, the fireman's back," meaning yourself.
If this is the case, the speaker is saying, "Wow, I thought I was a queen and in charge, but I guess I allowed myself to be manipulated there." Like the queen in the last song who at first is imperious, then allows herself to be bowed to the ground by a soldier, this queen (whoever she is) has turned herself into a pawn. We note the supplanting of the human royalty with that of the chessboard, as well; the "soldier" last time is now the "knight" of the title.
This queen has had a "blurry" night. Perhaps there has been alcohol, or simply a lot of bad judgement. Now, in the "very clear dawn," the consequences become apparent. Evidently, she has fallen for someone.
She asks if he is in a relationship, or single. She asks if he plays the field or is capable of commitment. And then she asks what she really wants to know: "Do you love me?"
Now we remember that there are several meanings of the word "false." One is "untrue," as to one's own nature. But one is "unfaithful." She may be in a relationship herself, although this is not revealed.
Then there is a first allusion to time, a "secret prophecy" about what will happen in the future. There is a bit of oxymoron in the phrase, as a prophet is usually fairly public about his prediction, but there have been prophecies known only to a soothsayer and his client.
If you want to judge her, however, for her false move, first, "hold it up and see"-- examine both sides. "It's one side stone"-- cold and inert-- and "one side fire"-- very much the opposite.
But what is this "it"? Is the "move"? Or is the "it"... the queen? The queen, who is the object of everyone's "desire."
Well, they "want to know" if she is available, if she could, or even does, love them.
And now the speaker addresses "you," but this seems to be another "you," most likely the listener. At this point, the song take a turn from the abstract to the concrete. The speaker is "spitting out all the bitterness/ Along with half of my last drink." (Has she started drinking again, even in the "very clear dawn"?)
Now she tells us about "your" (the listener's) "woman," who is "crying in the hall." This is, admittedly, very confusing.
Or perhaps things are finally becoming clearer.
It seems that there are three people involved. One is a man in a relationship (the listener) who not only is cheating on his partner, but he brought his new mistress (the speaker) home. To his house. While his partner is there.
Starting again from the beginning, it seems that the partner (the "her") is the queen. She wakes up, hungover, to learn that her husband has brought a woman home. She thought she had control over him, but she clearly does not, she now sees. Now, she wants to know how many times he has cheated, and if he has only made love to them or fallen in love with them or what... but mostly if he still loves her.
If one would say that his cheating is somehow her fault (if you "hold it against" her), that she drove him to it, she seems like she is a tease-- the stone/fire image-- who strings men along, the object of "all men's desire." She had enjoyed wielding this queen-like control. But it has backfired.
And now the mistress is in the middle, or at least at the edge, of all this. The wife wakes up to hear a woman's voice alongside her man's through the door, and they now can hear her crying in the hall at his betrayal.
The mistress (whom we know know is the main "I") spits out her drink, and compares it to "drinking gasoline," less the solution than part of the problem. The mistress now asks the series of questions to the man about his capabilities of love and fidelity.
The lines "Walk on her blind side/ Was the answer to the joke" are now clear as well. The man was being strung along, like all other men, by this unattainable partner. They were living together, she was "his" woman, and yet she was not sleeping together, still sure that his desire for her would keep him faithful.
His response to her cruel "joke" was to simply cheat on her. She was "blind" to the possibility, due to her ego, and would never suspect. (This could be the meaning of the title-- in chess, a knight can move over other pieces, blindsiding them from their other sides. Also, there is the obvious "knight/night" pun, as the cheating "moves" happen then.) Eventually, the man was able to bring women home and she still didn't know. Until now.
Still, "there isn't a political bone in her body." The "queen" never did this to assert power, it seems. So... why did she?
"She would rather be a riddle," and unknowable, rather than be in a full, intimate relationship. Something about that scares her, maybe. "She keeps challenging the future with a profound lack of history," we are told. If she has no past at all, perhaps this means she is a virgin. Perhaps all she knows of sex is the excitement of the chase. Like the dog who chases cars-- what would it do with one if it caught it?
And so she plays the only game she knows, the tease that allows her to be in control. Turns out, it wasn't a game... and the man did not like being played.
And now it is her turn to answer the questions from him-- can she love? Many, none... one? Him?
All everyone wants to know is if they are loved. And the hardest part is that each wants the other to go first.
Next Song: Neighborhood Girls
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