Emily Dickinson, a poet who can only be described as American, wrote a dashful poem about the aftermath of a great pain. My darling Charlotte has deciphered the pain as being that which follows a bereavement. See what you make of it:
After great pain, a formal feeling comes –
The Nerves sit ceremonious, like Tombs –
The stiff Heart questions ‘was it He, that bore,’
And ‘Yesterday, or Centuries before’?
The Feet, mechanical, go round –
A Wooden way
Of Ground, or Air, or Ought –
Regardless grown,
A Quartz contentment, like a stone –
This is the Hour of Lead –
Remembered, if outlived,
As Freezing persons, recollect the Snow –
First – Chill – then Stupor – then the letting go –
Since my dictating the first sentence, Charlotte and I have discussed this poem and we have agreed it could apply to grief in general. The first stanza speaks of the numb paralysis after a great trauma. The Mrs Bennet esque reference to nerves is accurate and expressive. I am sure we have all felt at one point preyed upon by our nerves. The reference to Christ’s suffering is a little more confusing to me. This requires an explanation – deixis (use of general words and phrases to refer to a specific time, place, or person in context, e.g., the words tomorrow, there, and they) to be understood. We can only suppose that Dickinson’s grief seemed, at the time, to be akin to Christ on the cross. But what did He bear?
Charlotte has reminded me that one cannot mention feet in a poem without making reference to the meter of the poetry, Iambic pentameter, for example, consists of five iambs ( _ / ). There are two main types of iambs, a trochee and spondee. Trochee is stressed then and unstressed syllable. A spondee consists of two stressed syllables. An example of a trochee would be the beginning of Blake’s The Tyger: the first syllable is stressed and the second is unstressed.
Tyger Tyger, burning bright
Why all this talk of poetic dissection? Merely to explain the feet pun in the second stanza. Beyond the metric punnage, the second stanza speaks of the effect of time on anxiety. The speaker uses solid materials to emphasise her frozen stiff state. Quartz contentment could mean tranquility and acceptance, stability in the hard material, or indeed a cold, hard numbness.
The final stanza is a little more jarring. It seems to suggest that the speaker does not believe she will live through the leaden hour. Will she die before she has gotten through her grief by natural causes, or by her own hand? The stages of grief are clear here, the speaker is chilled, frozen by the impact of the event, then numb. After this, the speaker is freed from her grief, though at what cost?
This album, as many of the preceding albums of this, Matt Johnson’s terrific band, have blown me away. You might even say they have detonated a mind bomb. Father has remonstrated me for failing to mention that Matt Johnson was a member of Marc and the Mambas, the group Marc Almond formed after Soft Cell. So there you have it. Dusk is an evocative, dark, and self reflecting album which shines a light on some tough injustices in the world through the prism of Johnson himself. Johnny Marr, from the Smiths, plays guitar on this album.
It ends a great trilogy of records (including 1986’s Infected and 1989’s Mind Bomb) that showed The The mastermind Matt Johnson perfecting his personal musical vision while accumulating the right musicians to pull the whole thing off. Of those three, Infected (like far too many ’80s albums) sounds the most dated. The beat-driven dissonance of Mind Bomb fares better, but for the most part, Dusk sounds like it could have been released today. Pop Matters
The first track, True Happiness This Way Lies, is oddly Christian in its reflection. It starts with a pseudo stand up comedy routine, followed by agonised vocals and culminates in Johnson postulating that the only way to be happy in life is free yourself from desires. This is what the Church teaches in many ways. Chastity being one way in which we can remove an aspect of our pre-marital lives which blinds us to other qualities of our potential partner, for example. But more on that in a later post, or perhaps not.
The following tracks, in particular the third, fourth and sixth (Dogs of Lust, This Is the Night and Helpline Operator) tell stories of the seedy underbelly of London but also individual within the city. The subject matter is their illicit desires and exposing them for what they are, and in a way seeking to cure the listener of the very same desires. Love is Stronger than Death is one of the album’s triumphs. Singing with painful emotion, Johnson describes how the beauty of love can transcend even the dread of mortality. Again this is a Christian sentiment. The idea that one can love beyond death has been explored innumerable times, for example in this wonderful poem by Elisabeth Browning.
Undoubtedly ‘Dusk’ can be marked down as a retreat in terms of some of Johnson’s usual ambitions; compared to its predecessors the lyrics aren’t nearly as political and the arrangements are generally less elaborate, though this is counterbalanced by the new artistic opportunities the fresh format affords. The traditional instrumentation allows for greater light and shade, the production feels warmer and Johnson lets the intimacy shine through in his vocals. The lyrics here are less interested in the politics of states and nations instead choosing to focus on the politics of individuals within society, uncovering the hidden drives and desires that manipulate us all. The album title ‘Dusk’ could quite easily have been replaced with ‘Lust’ for this is a work practically dripping with illicit passions and sexual loathing. Sputnik
The penultimate song Bluer Than Midnight frightened me somewhat. The final words of the track intimating that Johnson is more stimulated by fear than love were rather harrowing. As though by antidote, the last track, Lonely Planet, is about accepting one’s lot and ends with “the world’s too big, and life’s too short, to be alone”.
A wonderful, fulsome and devastating album which is likely The The’s best work.
W. B. Yeats, (13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939), was an Irish poet and writer, and one of the leading literary figures of the last century. He is a key figure behind the Irish Literary Revival. In December 1923, Yeats was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature, “for his always inspired poetry, which in a highly artistic form gives expression to the spirit of a whole nation”. From my research, I believe When You Are Old was published in 1893, when Yeats was not very old. It was written as a love poem to an Irish revolutionary who stole his heart, Maud Gonne. She refused to marry him despite several proposals. See the poem below:
When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;
How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;
And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.
The phrase ‘full of sleep’ is quite horrifying to me. It implies a stage in one’s old age when they are so tired and close to death that they are almost sleep walking into death. Now, death is not necessarily something to be afraid of, especially not for a practicing Catholic. But this stage of life where one is exhausted is quite worrisome for someone with a modicum of vitality, at the time of writing. The first two lines invite Maude to read this poem while she is within a few weeks of death and comfortable by the fire, possibly dozing off.
The next two lines invite Maude to remember her youth, indeed dream of it. The dark shadows signify pessimism and depression, perhaps.
The second stanza in my view casts aspersions at Maude for dumping Yeats. It implies that the man she went on to marry was a false lover. Perhaps, those who loved her falsely enjoyed her beauty over the substance of her character. This is confirmed in the second half of this stanza when Yeats points out, helpfully, that he loved her wandering and/or searching soul
The last stanza reminds me of the beginning of Revelation 12, where the writer (ostensibly St John), describes the Virgin Mary in Heaven.
A great sign appeared in heaven: a woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet and a crown of twelve stars on her head.
Yeats is berating his ex love interest in the spiciest form yet, goading her for wasting an entire life because she has not spent it with him, even implying she is going to hell as he, Mr Right, ends up in heaven. Overall, a lovely poem! There is a lot of sass, a lot of projection and a lot of power here.
Van Gogh painted this arresting painting in the last few weeks of his life. He did a series of paintings of wheat fields around Auvers, of which Theresa May would be proud. This one, Wheatfield Under Thunderclouds, is quite arresting and took me by surprise.
In these landscapes he tried to express ‘sadness, extreme loneliness’. But the overwhelming emotions that Van Gogh experienced in nature were also positive. He wrote to his brother Theo, ‘I’d almost believe that these canvases will tell you what I can’t say in words, what I consider healthy and fortifying about the countryside.’
The elongated format of Wheatfields under Thunderclouds is unusual. It emphasizes the grandeur of the landscape, as does the simple composition: two horizontal planes. Van Gogh Museum
This is a simple painting, covering two horizontal plains. It is painted with simple, visible brush strokes, yet I find it quite striking. The emotion in this piece is palpable. The movement of the clouds, both light and dark is haunting. It is advancing towards you as you are watching. You can almost see the curtain of rain in the distance. The wheat in the field is almost moving and you can see the wind taking the three in the bottom right.
There is something very moving in this painting, there is a brooding, almost menacing quality to it. The painting reflects what Van Gogh must have felt in the closing weeks of his life, a kind of loneliness and despair, but at the same time in his own words, it is meant to show us the restorative qualities of the countryside. In all, a fascinating work in the later period of Van Gogh’s life.
Another metaphysical Catholic poem? Why, yes of course! Although, my dearest Charlotte tells me that he was in fact first Catholic, then reneged the faith (his family were recusant), then became Anglican priest and apostatised, which is rather shocking to me. That word has rather negative connotations for me since I watched the 2016 Scorsese film Silence. See below John Donne’s striking rebuke of Death personified:
Death, be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadful, for thou are not so; For those whom thou think’st thou dost overthrow Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me. From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be, Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow, And soonest our best men with thee do go, Rest of their bones, and soul’s delivery. Thou’art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men, And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell, And poppy’or charms can make us sleep as well And better than thy stroke; why swell’st thou then? One short sleep past, we wake eternally, And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.
This poem uses the literary tactic of Apostrophe (not apostasy), which addresses a subject who cannot respond. Here, Donne addresses Death directly, as a person, and takes him down a peg. In the first two lines we see Death’s reputation as being full of pride and mighty. Donne tells us that this is in fact not the case. The second two lines follow suit, telling Death that he does not not in fact have the power to overthrow us, that Death itself has no power to kill, so we should not be afraid of it. Even St Paul knew this, as Charlotte pointed out to me as we were walking to Mass, in the first letter of St Paul to the Corinthians:
When the perishable has been clothed with the imperishable and the mortal with immortality, then the saying that is written will come to pass: “Death has been swallowed up in victory.” Where, O Death, is your victory? Where, O Death, is your sting?”
1 Corinthians 15:55
The next four lines show death as akin to falling asleep, further degrading Death personified and encouraging the reader to be less frightened. Donne goes on to explain that the good die soonest in order to experience this peaceful rest and go with death to their eternal resting place.
There’s really no point in doing anything in life because it’s all over in the blink of an eye. The next thing you know, rigor mortis sets in. Oh, how the good die young.
Mr Gustave, The Grand Budapest Hotel
(excellent article on the nonsense poetry int he film here)
Lines 9-10 see Donne taunting Death saying that he is impotent without the foolish acts of man. Without chancers and fate, Death would not have a purpose, in essence. Donne makes fun of Death’s friends, poison war and sickness, to further degrade him. Lines 11-12 continue in the vein of lines 7 and 8, stating that Death brings only a short sleep and that poppies (drugs) can do the same. Why should we be afraid of a little sleep?
The final two lines are evidence of Donne’s faith. One short sleep and we, like Christ, awake into eternal life. Therefore, Death is robbed of all his power and indeed shall die. This notion of eternal life is one of the central tenets of the Christian faith. It helps the faithful live their life to the fullest in the hope of eternal glory. This concept is one I have been wrestling with for some time but can see is wonderfully calming when understood. Donne saw this almost 400 years ago and I have found great comfort in his writings. I can only hope you will, also.
This magnificent, sad, brilliant album was the debut of British post-punk/synth-pop band The The. My father has been pushing this album on me for some time but I had hitherto ignored him. Feeling the pang of desire for new music, I decided to investigate The The. The result was quite extraordinary.
I’ve Been Waitin’ For Tomorrow (All Of My Life)
This Is The Day
The Sinking Feeling
Uncertain Smile
The Twilight Hour
Soul Mining
Giant
The opening of Soul Mining is an infectious and portentous drum beat with subdued humming followed by an astonishing panoply of synth wonderment. It strikes a truly cheerful note with the opening lyrics:
Covering my body in leaves
And trying not to breath
All my childhood dreams
Are bursting at the seams
And dangling around my knees
I’ve been deformed by emotional scars
And the cancer of love has eaten out my heart
I’ve been stripped bare and nobody cares
And all the people I looked up to are no longer there
The second track continues on the deep hues of synth, complex in their arrangements. The main repeated lyric is:
This is the day (This is the day)
Your life will surely change
I felt thusly when listening to this album for the first time. I could not believe the quality of synth, the arrangement, and the dreadfully sad lyrics. The total package of this track is arresting.
The lyrics contained the occasional hint of histrionic gaucheness – “the cancer of love has eaten out my heart” seems a pretty melodramatic way to say you got dumped – but more often they’re strikingly precocious: Uncertain Smile’s brilliant drawing of a confused relationship, The Twilight Hour’s painfully accurate depiction of self-obsession. Guardian
The third track The Sinking Feeling is just wonderful. It is energetic, fun, and characteristically sad.
Uncertain Smile is the shining crown jewel of the album. The languishing synth and foreboding bass predicts an exquisite minutes-long piano solo, which I did not register fully on first listening to this album. Much like the harpsichord solo in the first movement of the Fifth Brandenburg Concerto (which Nick reliably informs me is called a cadenza), this is a passage of epic proportion. It is played by Jools Holland, if you can believe it. The track is tied together by this wonderful section which sits atop the ranking of the album’s tunes.
A howling wind that blows the litter as the rain flows
As street lamps pour orange coloured shapes, through your windows
A broken soul stares from a pair of watering eyes
Uncertain emotions force an uncertain smile
I’ve got you under my skin where the rain can’t get in
But if the sweat pours out, just shout
I’ll try to swim and pull you out
The title track is quite striking. The lyrics are painful, and the bass is deep. The beautiful “wah wah” guitar notes, coupled with lighter guitar, bass and percussion, join together into a musical feast. The synth solo to close out this track and lead into Giant is superlative.
“Something always goes wrong when things are going right…
You’ve swallowed your pride –
– to quell the pain inside
Someone captured your heart – just like a thief in the night
& squeezed all juice out – until it ran dry”
The closer “Giant” is a perfect summary of the album’s manifesto. An incredibly serious piece of music and an existential musing upon the nature of the self – “How could anyone know me when I don’t even know myself?” – it’s a theme Matt Johnson would revisit on the majestic ‘Slow Emotion Replay” from 1993’s Dusk. Lineofbestfit
I am a stranger to myself
And nobody knows I’m here
When I looked into my face
It wasn’t myself I’d seen
But who I’ve tried to be
Giant is a ten minute feast. It speaks of identity, self-knowledge, pain and reckoning with one’s past. Here The The are at their most anxious, espousing a very human fear of God, Hell, the past, but ultimately, of ourselves. Grappling with identity, one’s place in the world and the two inter relate is a life’s challenge are themes of the track. This struggle for acceptance by others and by ourselves is played out at length in the closing track. I got a sense for the depth of Matt Johnson’s (lead singer) anxiety. The final track is arresting, immediate and expansive, a fitting end to a monumental album.
This is a vitally important record. Its themes provoke tension and anxiety at times. However, the variety of the styles, genres and talents are there for all to see. This is a work of gargantuan scope which has left quite a mark on this reviewer. If you have time, please explore the rest of The The’s work, especially their 1989 offering, Mind Bomb.
