Wednesday, December 31, 2008

YOUNG LOVERS IN IRAQ

Dylan, Sinatra, Shakespeare,and Company


Words and phrases, from poems, songs, plays and other prose are often borrowed unconsciously, prompting and suffusing constant thoughts of loved ones far from home. The original intent of the author or artist is enhanced rather than corrupted.

Dylan’s “Boots of Spanish Leather” is poetry that can be shared today by lovers separated by war. It is timelessly beautiful and meaningful. The sweet sorrowful parting of lovers, even for a day, brings forth memory of Juliet and Romeo who parted with Romeo one evening wishing “I would I were a bird” implying constant presence. Juliet answered “Sweet, so would I/Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing./Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow/That I shall say good night till it be morrow.” Alas, today’s fifteen month partings promise no joyful near morrows for our loved ones be they wed, betrothed, or simply –simply, simply, simply loving life itself; some so young and offish that they haven’t finished falling out of love with themselves. Some wear stripes-some bars. Dylan’s lament, his phrasing, is timeless and immediate.

It was 1961, and Dylan played at the “CafĂ© Wha?” In Greenwich Village. My sister and her girlfriend were going to be at the Wha? to read some poetry they had written. We were less than half an hour away and Brian and I would check the Village out every once in a while. Knowing my sister would be at the Wha?, we checked it out. It was a coffee house and did not serve alcohol. My sister and her friend didn’t read their poetry yet and there was a performance going on; a guitar was probably part of what was going on. It was a while ago. Was Dylan there? Could have been but I don’t know and it would have been meaningless to me anyway. Like others he was just an unknown guy looking to play gigs. (I was in Asheville recently and that city really did remind me of the Village the way it was back then.) The Wha? Wasn’t the biggest place in the world-kind of small. This was not a doo wop environment which was my comfort zone. Interest in the Wha? I would guess was a bit of east coast wonderment at the west coast beatnik and flower power cultures. Some people couldn’t quite nail it down-that is, just what was going on then. I was one of those. I think it was rear view mirror kind of thing. It went by and only when you looked back did you realize what it was. Today I can listen to Dylan and enjoy him because I’ve learned to pay more attention to the lyrics. You can hear Dylan sing Boots and think of someone in Iraq.

Husbands and wives, sons and daughters, mothers and fathers, all of you, full of life and joy and wanting elusive and changing morrows, oh that your loved ones were present birds such as Romeo wished he were and that they had never left home. Distant changing morrows yield too frequent tears. Tears….
Forfend they come through Dover. Some come home early may pass through this place, unseen coffins en masse (no photographs said the Decider) of the debacle far away, the crime thus far of this young century. Those brave young lovers who pass through Dover, unable anymore to love in life, unable to share a sweet morrow with a lover, will always be in the hearts of their lovers and loved ones. And too there will be those tears -tears heartbreaking, gut wrenching, and inadequate. “Everybody Loves a Lover” sang Peggy Lee. And do we do. And we too cry.
Frank Sinatra sang a song about young lovers but not written in the context of war. Rodgers and Hammerstein captured a sense joy about young lovers and we might think of it as we think of our loved ones in Iraq. Sinatra expresses empathy and compassion. Change a word or phrase if you want (I will later) but the original lyrics convey to me this sense of caring and concern. I heard it the other night and thought immediately of our brave young in Iraq. Sometimes a melody or lyrics will take you to a place not intended by the singer or lyricist. Too, I thought of an earlier war and how it resolved with many dead loved ones-many dead lovers forever lost to their loves. He begins:
Hello young lovers whoever you are/I hope your troubles are few/All my good wishes go with you tonight/I’ve been in love like you
Be brave young lovers and follow your star/Be brave and faithful and true/Cling close to each other tonight/I’ve been in love like you
Not too many years later, Muhammad Ali, who by self- proclamation was known as “The Greatest”, wrote poetry:
Clean out my cell
And take my tail to jail
‘cause better to be in jail fed
Than in Vietnam, dead

It too was an unpopular war. The draft was in effect. He went to jail for a while and he lost his right to fight-for a while. And so wars go on and lovers are separated-for a while.

America grieves for sons and daughters lost in war regardless of the war’s cause or purpose. Comments on the debacle in Iraq require sensitivity to those who believe that lives lost are lives that were lost because of a justified war. To question the necessity of the war could be considered as saying the lives lost were wasted. Borrowing from Hammerstein America plaintively speaks:

Hello young lovers wherever you are.
I hope your troubles are few.
All my good wishes
Go with you tonight
I’ve been in a war before

Be brave young lovers and follow your star
Be brave and faithful and true
Cling close to each other tonight
I’ve been in a war like you

Tom Paine

1 comment:

suz said...

so beautiful. so sad. this brought tears to my eyes. obviously anything R&J grabs my attention, but what an evocative way to bring the sense of eternal and ephemeral into a poignant whole.
khairete
suz