When Dillon, aka Dylan - Bob Dylan’s name was announced as the Winner of the 2016 Nobel Prize, there
were a host of bouquets and brickbats as well! We were one of the firsts to give a beauteous bouquet to Bob on this, our past post!
The reasons are more
than meets the eye!
Well, Dylan for one, openly rebelled against existing pop
music conventions, and even on the folk front, he had sought to create quite a
stir and a sensation when he brandished electric instruments in his folk
concert, a sheer disregard for the rule of the land as concerns folk!
One
reason why his studio album Bringing It
All Back Home alienated him from some of his pals in the folk music
community!
His protest songs,
especially ‘Blowin’ in the Wind’ made him to be categorized as a protest
singer, and a politically charged artist with an agenda!
When Dylan premiered 'Blowin' in the Wind', 16 April 1962 |
In fact he assumed world-wide fame, laudations and celebrity status with this amazing number, that posed a volley of intense rhetorical questions dealing with freedom, war and peace.
Such was the rage and such
the craze on the release of this single album on 16 April 1962, that Dylan, from thence on, was
seen as a saviour of the oppressed!
It is no little wonder then that, ‘Blowin' in the
Wind’ has always been described as an anthem of the civil rights movement!
The
song also prompted the renowned Civil Rights activist and singer Mavis Staples to remark, ‘I just could not understand how a
young white man could write something that captured the frustration and
aspirations of black people so powerfully’.
Such was the threat,
and suchmuch the hazard it posed to those in power, who oppressed and suppressed
the ‘voiceless’ beyond measure!
‘Masters of War’, is
yet another protest song, such an impeccable song, filled with anti-war
rhetoric. The song also lays claim to being one of the most angriest anti-war
songs ever to be composed on the planet!
When the JFK regimen in
the US was keen on a military action in Vietnam, Dylan pens this number that
literally rips apart a motley group of bureaucrats who were like the harbingers
of death, orchestrating wars from behind their desks, and provoking young
soldiers to wield their guns and go on a killing spree!
These bureaucrats, to
Dylan, are like ‘Judas of old’ who keep spreading a grand lie again and again,
by propagating a Cold War which was not there in the first place, until it went
on to assume flesh and blood.
What a way with words
he’s got when he stands up, as a gentleman, tall and bold, against the
atrocities of ‘man over man’ [‘violence of beast on beast’ as Walcott woulda put it!] perpetrated behind the desks with such Judas-like
cunning!
Here goes the number
for y’all -
Masters of War
Come you masters of
war
You that build all the
guns
You that build the
death planes
You that build the big
bombs
You that hide behind
walls
You that hide behind
desks
I just want you to
know
I can see through your
masks
You that never done
nothin’
But build to destroy
You play with my world
Like it’s your little
toy
You put a gun in my
hand
And you hide from my
eyes
And you turn and run
farther
When the fast bullets
fly
Like Judas of old
You lie and deceive
A world war can be won
You want me to believe
But I see through your
eyes
And I see through your
brain
Like I see through the
water
That runs down my
drain
You fasten the
triggers
For the others to fire
Then you set back and
watch
When the death count
gets higher
You hide in your
mansion
As young people’s
blood
Flows out of their
bodies
And is buried in the
mud
You’ve thrown the
worst fear
That can ever be
hurled
Fear to bring children
Into the world
For threatening my
baby
Unborn and unnamed
You ain’t worth the
blood
That runs in your
veins
How much do I know
To talk out of turn
You might say that I’m
young
You might say I’m
unlearned
But there’s one thing
I know
Though I’m younger
than you
Even Jesus would never
Forgive what you do
Let me ask you one
question
Is your money that
good
Will it buy you
forgiveness
Do you think that it
could
I think you will find
When your death takes
its toll
All the money you made
Will never buy back
your soul
And I hope that you
die
And your death’ll come
soon
I will follow your
casket
In the pale afternoon
How much truth there
is to these intense lines that flow from a paroxysm of pain on the poet! No
wonder his songs were intense socio-political commentaries with a ‘float like a
butterfly, sting like a bee’ impact to their lines!
Let me now proceed to
highlight one last song that I felt deserved a pertinent mention!
The song is
titled, ‘The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll’.
It was written by Dylan based
on an incident that had affected him greatly. It gives a factual description of
the shocking murder of a 51-year-old African-American barmaid, Hattie Carroll, a
mother of ten children and several grandchildren, at the hands of a white and
wealthy young man from a white tobacco farming family.
The whole nation was
shocked and enraged when the young white and wealthy man walked away with just
a ‘six month’ sentence from the ‘noble’, ‘able’ ‘graceful’ ‘honourable’ and
‘gentle’ judges.
To do a quick take on
the US Justice system from our own times would sure merit this post. Rajat
Gupta, one of the first Indian corporate honchos who made it to the top most
echelons of the US corporate world, when he was convicted and sentenced to
prison by the US law courts!
Rajat Gupta observes
in the Prefatorial to his memoir titled,
Mind Without Fear [which we’ve
discussed earlier on, over here, on this past post of ours!]
Says Rajat Gupta about
the US Courts of Law -
The judge went out of
his way to block any reference to my character and to the aspects of my work
that mattered most to me. The prosecutors were skillful in manipulating the
press. And I missed that opportunity to tell my own story, and to let the jury,
and the public, see who I am directly. For that, I take full responsibility.
This book is that story.
Coming back to the
case at hand,
Well, Dylan quite couldn’t come to terms with the shocking
miscarriage of justice by the Courts! Hence this song! This song with such a
sting!
Me thought of giving
y’all the song, to feel the import of the lines, and to magnify Dylan, Bob
Dylan, on this, his immense social responsibility, as a song writer, when any
many of his ilk were busy doling out romantic chart busters by the day and
hogging the limelight at the billboards!
Thanks to Dylan, we still speak about
the 51-year old Hattie Carroll.
That’s where Dylan
clearly outlines for us all, the role, the relevance and the transformative
power of poetry to society, subtly hinting that, a pop song could be both a
means of social commentary, and as a vehicle of protest that doubles up as a
form of self-expression (poetry) as well!
So here goes the song
–
William Zanzinger killed poor Hattie Carroll
With a cane that he twirled around his diamond ring finger
At a Baltimore hotel society gathering
And the cops were called in and his weapon took from him
As they rode him in custody down to the station
And booked William Zanzinger for first-degree murder
But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears
Take the rag away from your face
Now ain't the time for your tears
William Zanzinger, who at twenty-four years
Owns a tobacco farm of six hundred acres
With rich wealthy parents who provide and protect him
And high office relations in the politics of Maryland
Reacted to his deed with a shrug of his shoulders
And swear words and sneering, and his tongue it was snarling
In a matter of minutes, on bail was out walking
But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize fears
Take the rag away from your face
Now ain't the time for your tears
Hattie Carroll was a maid in the kitchen
She was fifty-one years old and gave birth to ten children
Who carried the dishes and took out the garbage
And never sat once at the head of the table
And didn't even talk to the people at the table
Who just cleaned up all the food from the table
And emptied the ashtrays on a whole other level
Got killed by a blow, lay slain by a cane
That sailed through the air and came down through the room
Doomed and determined to destroy all the gentle
And she never done nothing to William Zanzinger
And you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears
Take the rag away from your face
Now ain't the time for your tears
In the courtroom of honor, the judge pounded his gavel
To show that all's equal and that the courts are on the
level
And that the strings in the books ain't pulled and persuaded
And that even the nobles get properly handled
Once that the cops have chased after and caught 'em
And that the ladder of law has no top and no bottom
Stared at the person who killed for no reason
Who just happened to be feelin' that way without warnin'
And he spoke through his cloak, most deep and distinguished
And handed out strongly, for penalty and repentance
William Zanzinger with a six-month sentence
Oh, but you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all
fears
Bury the rag deep in your face
For now's the time for your tears
Just take some time to
observe his intense lines on the rule of the land and the rule of law. Also take
even more time to observe carefully the last lines of each stanza, and how they
taper off to a bold acme towards the end!
The song greatly
impacted me with its take on gentleness! Dylan subtly contrasts the
‘gentlemanly’ high brow behaviour of the wealthy pig Zanzinger with the real
life gentle and graceful Hattie, who ‘carried the dishes and took out the
garbage, and never sat once at the head of the table, and didn't even talk to
the people at the table, who just cleaned up all the food from the table’!
Then
he proceeds to say, that the cane of Zanzinger sailed through the air and came
down through the room determined to destroy the gentle Hattie, who never harmed
the wealthy Zanzinger in any way whatsoever!
Clifton and Anne,
Dylanologists, ;-) in their article titled, ‘Bob Dylan and Religion’, have an
enlightening observation on this count!
Say they –
In one of the song’s
most beautiful lines, associating Hattie Carroll with the ancient poor and
forsaken so often remembered by Isaiah or Jeremiah, Dylan speaks of her death
as betokening the
destruction of “all the gentle,” drawing the irony from the last word with its
Latinate origin as a term referring to the well-born.
By this clever inversion,
a technique Dylan borrowed straight from the prophets, the well-born have
destroyed their claim to gentleness and passed judgment on themselves, even if
the corrupt judge won’t do the same; and if any gentleness remains, in the way
of virtue, it has been passed on to the servant class.
Her death, therefore,
to Dylan signals the destruction of ‘all the gentle’ or the ‘noble’ or the
‘highbrow’ or the ‘elite’!
Moreover, it also helps in a paradigm shift – a
shift of core values of gentleness – once the forte of the wealthy and the rich
– to the so-called working class, referred to here as the ‘servant class’ by Dylan for that much-needed emphasis!
It would do a world of
good to sum up this little post on Dylan, Bob Dylan with his own sweet lines -
Come you ladies and you
gentlemen, listen to my song,
I’ll sing it to you
right but you may think it’s wrong,
It may make you mad,
but I mean no harm!
No wonder, he like
Ali, Mohammed Ali, floats like a butterfly, and stings like a bee!
The topping on the
cake would be from a book I consider so precious and so dear, gifted to me by my sweet cousin! It’s titled, Why Dylan Matters, by Richard F. Thomas,
another Dylanologist of the highest order! ;-)
When talking about
Dylan’s fan base, Richard F. Thomas here remarks –
Bob Dylan may not say anything to his audience, but he is
curious about who’s out there; he’s taking it all in. “What are you seeing from
the stage?” Robert Love asked him:
Definitely not a sea of conformity. People I cannot
categorize easily. I see a guy dressed up in a suit and tie next to a guy in
blue jeans. I see another guy in a sport coat next to another guy wearing a
T-shirt.
I see a woman sometimes in evening gowns, and I see punk-looking
girls. I can see there’s a difference in character, and it has nothing to do
with age.
I went to an Elton John show; there must have been at least three
generations of people there. But they were all the same. Even the little kids.
They looked just like their grandparents. It was strange.
This inclusivity, this
variety, this multicultural ambience, was, is, and will continue to be his
forte and his sure reward too!
Well folks, now you
woulda sure known the devil and his angels who woulda opposed tooth and nail
the conferring of the grandest prize in Literature – the Nobel – on Dylan - Bob
Dylan! Now go ahead and read the first two paragraphs once again. ;-)
Thank you ladies and
gentlemen!
To be continued…
images: Michael Ochs/Gettyimages, Maria Zlatani
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