Archive for the ‘Songs and Poems’ Category

Just ‘Cos You Got The Blues

Thursday, June 12th, 2008

One of my two favorite Savoy Brown songs. The other one is “Jack the Toad”, which doesn’t seem to be on Youtube.

But “Just ‘Cos You Got the Blues Don’t Mean You Gotta Sing” is. The video is a slideshow of the poster’s friends, and doesn’t strike me as being relevant. But by golly, they got the song posted, and for that, I’m grateful.

Provoked by Billy Beck’s posting of “Hoochie Koochie Lady“, of which he says, rightfully, “If that ain’t rock music, then there never was any such thing.”

[Beck himself can be seen here, stage right, playing the guitar in his band, the Coots. Warning: the music's good, wish I'd been there, but the video and audio quality is, as Beck calls it, "forensic", recorded for self-evaluation by the band.]

Reading for Recruits

Monday, April 21st, 2008

So, you, or someone you know, is thinking about enlisting, “moving to the sound of the guns”. What should you read to prepare yourself?

Beats the bloody-be-heckers out of me. I’d guess maybe Heinlein’s Starship Troopers, famous, even notorious for its provocatively pro-military views. But it’s SF, and the lady in question is not a fan, to put it mildly. (If she were, of course, she’d already have read her Heinlein, including the inspiring but now-quaint retelling of the American Revolution, The Moon is a Harsh Mistress.

How about movies? I remember Private Benjamin being an entertaining portrayal of a privileged young woman who goes to boot camp in rebellion against her smothering parents and intended husband. An Officer and a Gentleman shows a full-of-himself young man also benefiting from almost washing out in Basic. (Turns out Larz’s Mom has already ordered Benjamin. I can’t wait to find out how that goes.)

But that was all I could come up with, so I wrote to Grim Beorn, a very literate warrior indeed. I knew he’d published reading lists for folk already in the service, but didn’t remember seeing anything for civilians considering enlistment. Grim kindly pointed me to his standard post on the topic. It starts out with a story about adjusting to the culture in Iraq, but then moves on:

“An eighteen year old arriving at West Point,” says Grim, “already knows nothing but High School. What he needs to learn is how to be a hero.”

His suggestions:

  • Beowulf. “Out of the darkness of the prehistory of the human race, a superb and splendid hero emerged, to do battle with the monstrous forces of evil.” –Lin Carter, if I’m not mistaken. Quote from memory.
  • The Illiad (Fitzgerald translation)
  • The Saga of Burnt Njal.
  • The Havamal, which “will teach you everything a hero needs to know, from how to enter a room to how to behave in company, from how to make and keep friends to how to be respected among great men. It is in its way a complete education.”

Grim explains:

This will teach our soldiers what they need to know to relate to the sheikhs, and indeed many other cultures abroad. But it also does the soldier a great kindness, as it makes him an educated man. These are exactly the things you need to know to comprehend the Western tradition. With these as your base, nothing in America’s history is forbidding.

In his email, Grim goes on to make what, for me, was a very surprising suggestion: The Hobbit, which offers “a deep but subtle introduction into the pieces I suggest in the standard reply”. It’s been a long time since I’ve read The Hobbit, because I prefer the longer, sterner Lord of the Rings. Precisely because of that sterness, and the heavier use of myth and fantasy, I rejected LotR for Larz. And because, in contrast, I’m used to considering The Hobbit as, well, fluffier, more of a children’s book, I didn’t even think of it. But Grim’s got it right: it’s a fairly easy read, and shows very well the transformation of a quiet stick-in-the-mud civilian into a hero. I’m going to have to read it again myself.

He continued:

Try her on the Norse sagas — they involve very much sailing and hardship, and serve as an advanced course in heroism. Don’t worry that they aren’t “modern,” because really, the technology changes aren’t that important.  What really does matter is the culture, and the culture of fighting men (and, these days, women) is a thing long ago perfected.  We just need to continue to remind ourselves of what our ancestors knew.

Then he said something else I’ve never considered, but take very much to heart:

In addition, the slightly alien feel of the sagas will prepare her for thinking about a slightly alien world like the Navy. It’s an important skill that she should learn, how to think about the meaning behind customs and traditions that are different from what she already knows.

Whether Larz reads this stuff or not, it’s clear that I, myself have some catching up to do. She’s young and fit and strong and can no doubt even now whip my flabby middle-aged butt anytime she chooses, but I will not be outdone on the reading front.

Then, as a parting gift for boot camp, I can in good conscience give her selections from here,  the official Marine Reading List. This list also includes another work of science fiction that has come under peacenik fire: Orson Scott Card’s Ender’s Game. This, too, is a tale of a boot-camp, but a very strange one, one for grade-school children in outer space. I would never have guessed that the Marines would take that as an authoritative introduction to military life–but now I see that the “slightly alien feel” Grim speaks of may well have played a role.

Another important item from that list is available on-line: the Marine Corp manual on Warfighting [PDF]. This is golden: the inside skinny on how Marines think about the thing they do better than any other force in the world.

Anyway, thanks, Grim, for the reply, and for your website generally, which has over the past couple-three years given me considerable insight into the Warrior Spirit, as exemplified by this from G.K. Chesterton:

How white their steel, how bright their eyes! I love each laughing knave,

Cry high and bid him welcome to the banquet of the brave.

Yea, I will bless them as they bend and love them where they lie,

When on their skulls the sword I swing falls shattering from the sky.

The hour when death is like a light and blood is like a rose, –

You never loved your friends, my friends, as I shall love my foes.

A couple of other bits  I dug out while writing this:

Confederate Yankee’s take on LTC Dave Grossman’s original Sheep, Wolves, and Sheepdogs essay (quoted in its entirety). Everybody, sheep or sheepdog, should read this.

Bill Whittle. Wordy, but oh so satisfying:

Here’s his recent piece on fighter pilots, and the fighter pilot, and what he taught America’s military about war fighting generally. Part 1 Part 2 This is survival material.

Honor, the short, sweet essay that made Whittle’s reputation. “…The many, many sergeants…”
I cannot hear or read the word “sergeant” anymore and not think of this essay.

Freedom, and the price that must be paid for it. Why we have the Second Amendment. Whittle hits his stride.

Empire: “For the first time in history, a nation powerful enough to rule the world has simply refused to do so.” Damn betcha, and why, exactly why, my precious, precious niece does an honorable thing by volunteering to go forth and put herself in harm’s way.

War. Why we’re at it, right now, written at a time so many of us were not sure.

History. A little bit about how we got here, about another time when everybody knew “The war is an abject and utter failure. What everyone thought would be a quick, decisive victory has turned into an embarrassing series of reversals.” And how it all turned around on an insignificant mound of dirt known as Little Round Top, with an insignificant amateur named Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain as the hinge pin.

Whittle. He’s one of the good guys, and does not write often enough. Read all his stuff.

Lord of the Ring of the Nibelungs

Tuesday, February 26th, 2008

I just stumbled across this fascinating comparison of Tolkien’s Lord of the Ring fantasy novels with Wagner’s Ring of the Nibelungs fantasy operas.

Tolkien well may have written his epic as an “anti-Ring” to repair the damage that Wagner had inflicted upon Western culture. Consciously or not, the Oxford philologist who invented Hobbits has ruined Wagner before the popular audience. It recalls the terrible moment in Thomas Mann’s great novel Doktor Faustus when the composer Adrian Leverkuhn, finishing his Faust cantata in the throes of syphilitic dementia, announces: “I want to take it back!” His amanuensis asks, “What do you want to take back?” “Beethoven’s 9th Symphony!” cries Leverkuhn. Leverkuhn (on the strength of a bargain with the Devil) has written a work whose objective is to ruin the ability of musical audiences to hear Beethoven.

Tolkien has taken back Wagner’s Ring. That may be his greatest accomplishment, and a literary accomplishment without clear precedent. To be sure, The Lord of the Rings is not a great work of literature to be compared to Cervantes or Dostoyevsky. But it is a great landmark of culture nonetheless. Its revival in a reasonably faithful cinematic version has far-reaching effects on the popular mind.

And this:

The details are far less important than the common starting point: the crisis of the immortals. Wagner’s immortal gods must fall as a result of the corrupt bargain they have made with the giants who built Valhalla. Tolkien’s immortal Elves must leave Middle-earth because of the fatal assistance they took from Sauron. The Elves’ power to create a paradise on Middle-earth depends upon the power of the three Elven Rings which they forged with Sauron’s help. Thus the virtue of the Elven Rings is inseparably bound up with the one Ring of Sauron. When it is destroyed, the power of the Elves must fade. More than anything else, The Lord of the Rings is the tragedy of the Elves and the story of their renunciation.

What Tolkien has in mind is nothing more than the familiar observation that the high culture of the West arose and fell with the aristocracy, which had the time and inclination to cultivate it. With the high culture came the abuse of power associated with the aristocracy; when this disappears, the great beauties of Western civilization and much of its best thought disappear with it. That is far too simple, and in some ways misleading, but it makes a grand premise for a roman-a-clef about Western civilization.

“The turbaned heads bowed to its terrible glare”

Tuesday, May 8th, 2007

The present “Iraq War” or “War on Terror” is actually the latest skirmish in the Long War our nation has been fighting almost since its inception. In fact, it gets a whole verse to itself in our National Anthem:

In the conflict resistless, each toil they endured,
‘Till their foes fled dismayed from the war’s desolation:
And pale beamed the Crescent, its splendor obscured
By the light of the Star Spangled flag of our nation.
Where each radiant star gleamed a meteor of war,
And the turbaned heads bowed to its terrible glare,
Now, mixed with the olive, the laurel shall wave,
And form a bright wreath for the brows of the brave.

Like the later verses of many popular songs, anthems, and hymns, this doesn’t flow quite as smoothly or ring so proudly as the first verse.

Nevertheless, this is a clear record that the U.S. has been a bulwark against a particularly oppressive outlaw culture close to two hundred years.

“That’ll do, pig. That’ll do.”

Monday, April 23rd, 2007

If I had words to make a day for you,
I’d sing you a morning golden and new.
I would make this day last for all time,
Give you a night deep in moo-oon shine.

– The Mouse Chorus for the Credits to the best pig movie ever, Babe. The DVD was finally released recently, and I rented it just to hear this. I cannot listen to it or even read the lyrics without weeping in happiness. If there ever was a song to heal the sick, this is it.

I looked for this on Youtube when I posted this, but couldn’t find it. It’s there now. Do not click link if getting choked up and weepy will embarrass you.

Ah. From a Youtube comment:
Here’s the original performance by Scott Fitzgerald and Yvonne Keeley in 1977, a bit slower and lower pitched. Honestly, I prefer the Mouse Chorus, but maybe just because that’s what I heard first.
Music: Camille Saint-Saens, Symphony #3
Lyrics: Jonathon Hodge

[I orginally posted this back in February, but when I tried to edit it, I somehow lost the original. So I'm reposting.]


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