Hey, that’s
no way to say goodbye!
It
was with shock and sadness that I learnt late last night (or was it early
morning?) of the death of one of my teenage musical heroes. Whereas the death of David Bowie left me
cold, Leonard Cohen’s departure feels as if a piece of my life has been taken
from me.
Leonard
Cohen was a terrible sexist and misogynist but he wrote songs, filled with a
biblical symbolism, that few could. He was
the prophet of gloom and doom. But there is a beauty in sadness and no
expressed this better than Leonard Cohen.
I
particularly like Richard Silverstein’s appreciation below.
I
disagree though with Richard about Cohen and Israel. Unfortunately Leonard Cohen was a Zionist and
during the 1973 ‘Yom Kippur’ war he flew to Israel to play for the troops and
apparently met the then General Arik Sharon.
See Leonard
Cohen positions on zionism/Israel.
Also my understanding of Lover, Lover, Lover from the New Skin album I
would suggest that the lyrics in part are a reference to Israel. Cohen is another example, along with Dylan,
of the separation of artistic and musical genius, from the people who create
that art and music. Even the greatest
artists have feet of clay. Salvador
Dalli, TS Elliot and Jack London were other examples. People can create beautiful things on even
the worst impulses! But most of Leonard
Cohen’s impulses and inspiration were derived from beauty. His love songs are unsurpassed.
The final stanza
of Lover Lover Lover
And may the spirit of this song,
may it rise up pure and free.
May it be a shield for you,
a shield against the enemy.
may it rise up pure and free.
May it be a shield for you,
a shield against the enemy.
My favourite album has to be the Songs
of Leonard Cohen followed by Songs from a Room . Songs of Leonard Cohen is simply an
unsurpassed masterpiece with my all-time favourite So Long Marianne followed
closely by Suzanne and Hey That’s No Way to Say Goodbye. Bird on the Wire in the follow up album is a wonderful expression, a spiritual ballad, of the desire for freedom.
November
11, 2016 By Richard
Silverstein
It’s been
a horrible week. No question about it. Today brings word that
Leonard Cohen has died at age 82. Words cannot express the feelings of
gratitude I have for his life and his achievement. From his first album
in 1967 he accompanied me through my youth and into later days. All the
way through.
Leonard Cohen in performance |
Cohen
could only have arisen in the heart of the 1960s. He was an esoteric poet
whose haunting, elliptical lyrics captured a young generation. His voice
was unlike any heard up to that day, except for perhaps Dylan’s. It was
dark and deep, warm yet chilling. It was not sweet or charming or
melodious, or any of the qualities associated with pop singers.
He was a
bard, a Homer for our generation. He took poetry and brought it to the
people. But it wasn’t a poetry packaged for popular consumption.
You listened to Cohen on his terms. You entered his world.
And what a world it was! Populated with fierce, ineffable beauty,
with heroes who could also be villains. He spoke of love, but never
denied its opposite. Who spoke of good, but acknowledged the human
propensity toward evil.
Leonard
Cohen was not a popularizer. He didn’t pander to popular taste. He
didn’t get down on your level. You came to him. Sometimes his songs
and concerts were like being a member of a secret cult or society.
That could offer rich rewards if you were willing to spend the time to
listen and absorb his allusive and ethereal poems. But that was Cohen’s
Achilles Heel as well. You could not delve into Cohen like he was a pop
musician. You had to work for your pleasure. And what pleasures
there were.
While
Cohen could be a demanding otherworldly aesthete, he never denied the harsh,
gritty world around him. Unlike Dylan, one could never call Cohen a
writer with a political consciousness or a deep commitment to social justice.
But a song like Democracy is Coming to the USA should be a
rallying cry for those already commencing to unseat Donald Trump in four years.
Another
crucial element of Cohen’s oeuvre is his Jewish consciousness. The songs
are shot through with Jewish heart including references to Biblical stories and
liturgical prayers. Everyone knows songs like Hallelujah,
which not only draws its name from the Book of Psalms, but includes references
to David’s first glance at Bathsheba bathing on the roof, which leads him to
send her husband, Uriah to the frontlines of battle where he is conveniently
killed. Whereupon David takes her as one of his wives. This is a
mortal sin which the Bible tells us prevented God from offering David the honor
of building the First Temple in Jerusalem. An honor bestowed on David’s
son and successor, Solomon.
The song
also weaves another Biblical story into the lyrics as David morphs into Samson
in this stanza:
Well your
faith was strong but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew ya
She tied you to her kitchen chair
And she broke your throne and she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew ya
She tied you to her kitchen chair
And she broke your throne and she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah
It’s a
bold poetic stroke to meld the stories. Cohen likes the Samson story so
much he appropriates it as if David and Samson are almost the same character.
They are two powerful men of overweening pride who were each brought low
by their love for a woman. In David’s case, his own lust brought about
the death of another man. In Samson’s case, despite his betrayal he was
able to exact revenge on his tormentors. Both men came to tragic ends due
to their hubris.
This is a
rendering of
the song into Yiddish by a performer who offers a translation that is
freely adapted from the original into a beautiful, fluid Yiddish.
There are
a number of lesser known songs which are freighted with Jewish references.
They include Who by
Fire, whose lyrics are a beautiful adaptation of the High Holiday prayer, U’netaneh
Tokef. Compare the original prayer with Cohen’s later adaptation to
see what a graceful and elegant job he’s done of rendering it into the modern
era:
And who
by fire, who by water
Who in the sunshine, who in the night time
Who by high ordeal, who by common trial
Who in your merry merry month of May
Who by very slow decay
And who shall I say is calling?
Who in the sunshine, who in the night time
Who by high ordeal, who by common trial
Who in your merry merry month of May
Who by very slow decay
And who shall I say is calling?
And who
in her lonely slip, who by barbiturate
Who in these realms of love, who by something blunt
And who by avalanche, who by powder
Who for his greed, who for his hunger
And who shall I say is calling?
Who in these realms of love, who by something blunt
And who by avalanche, who by powder
Who for his greed, who for his hunger
And who shall I say is calling?
And who
by brave assent, who by accident
Who in solitude, who in this mirror
Who by his lady’s command, who by his own hand
Who in mortal chains, who in power
And who shall I say is calling?
And who shall I say is calling?
Who in solitude, who in this mirror
Who by his lady’s command, who by his own hand
Who in mortal chains, who in power
And who shall I say is calling?
And who shall I say is calling?
This is
the original prayer:
On Rosh
Hashanah it is inscribed
And on Yom Kippur it is sealed
How many shall die and how many shall be born
Who shall live and who shall die
Who at the measure of days and who before
Who by fire and who by water
Who by the sword and who by wild beasts
Who by hunger and who by thirst
Who by earthquake and who by plague
Who by strangling and who by stoning
Who shall have rest and who shall go wandering
Who will be tranquil and who shall be harassed
Who shall be at ease and who shall be afflicted
Who shall become poor and who shall become rich
Who shall be brought low and who shall be raised high.
And on Yom Kippur it is sealed
How many shall die and how many shall be born
Who shall live and who shall die
Who at the measure of days and who before
Who by fire and who by water
Who by the sword and who by wild beasts
Who by hunger and who by thirst
Who by earthquake and who by plague
Who by strangling and who by stoning
Who shall have rest and who shall go wandering
Who will be tranquil and who shall be harassed
Who shall be at ease and who shall be afflicted
Who shall become poor and who shall become rich
Who shall be brought low and who shall be raised high.
Another
lesser known song is the Song for Isaac (an
early 1966 performance),
Cohen’s retelling of the story of the Akedah, the sacrifice of Issac.
The lyrics end with a dramatic and compelling attack on human warfare.
If only we’d learned the lesson he tried to teach back in 1968 when he
wrote this:
And if
you call me brother now,
forgive me if I inquire,
“Just according to whose plan?”
When it all comes down to dust
I will kill you if I must,
I will help you if I can.
When it all comes down to dust
I will help you if I must,
I will kill you if I can.
And mercy on our uniform,
man of peace or man of war,
the peacock spreads his fan.
forgive me if I inquire,
“Just according to whose plan?”
When it all comes down to dust
I will kill you if I must,
I will help you if I can.
When it all comes down to dust
I will help you if I must,
I will kill you if I can.
And mercy on our uniform,
man of peace or man of war,
the peacock spreads his fan.
If you
are too young to know about Leonard Cohen, you have a great joy in store.
Go watch videos of him singing the songs and some of the great covers
like Jeff Buckley’s soaring cover of Hallelujah. Then watch the
Pentatonix’s equally entrancing cover of the same song.
Curiously,
Israel never played any role in his music. He never wrote a song, as far
as I know, that referred to Israel. That may reflect his sense of
ambivalence about what Israel meant to the Jewish people and the Diaspora.
Cohen was clearly and decidedly a Diaspora Jew. He was perhaps a
spiritual Jew, but never a traditional one.
Many off
us know that on his last world tour Cohen played
Israel. After controversy erupted, he tried to add a concert in
Palestine in an awkward attempt to “balance” the Tel Aviv gig. He
believed that he could somehow forge a compromise if he played to both
communities. But it was a hopelessly out of touch response to a
profoundly complex political conflict. While his poetry could navigate
such human complexities, his grasp of the politics of the conflict was not
equally nuanced.
He was
also a Buddhist. I can remember as a UCLA graduate student conceiving of
the idea of inviting Cohen to perform a concert for an all-day celebration of
Jewish culture hosted by the campus Hillel. When I finally reached his
agent, he liked the idea but said Cohen couldn’t perform because he was
spending a half-year at a monastery in Greece.
Cohen was
a Jew who would cause consternation among today’s Zionists and communal leaders
seeking monomaniacal clarity around questions of Jewish identity and
definitions of who and what is a Jew. Cohen’s identity was fluid.
He could be David one day and latter-day Sybarite another.
There are
only a few singer-songwriters whose legacies will long outlive their lives.
Leonard Cohen is one of them. We must cherish what he brought to
us. Keep alive his legacy.
Compare
the gifts he offered with those of Donald Trump (he’s the other reason this has
been an awful week). The latter will be with us for four years before we
consign him to the dustbin of history. He will mean nothing in the long
run except as a punchline or an exemplar of the worst we have to offer
ourselves and the world.
But Cohen
will stand the test of time. His words, his beliefs, his life will last.
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