Monday, November 26, 2007
Via Andrew Sullivan, I came across this blog post, the first in a series, about Virginia Woolf, which tries to answer the question, "How can we learn about ‘the good life' from a woman who killed herself?" It touches on two things that I've come to believe strongly. One of which I've discussed before-- the hardly-ever-acknowledged value of being a loner. Loners are, at best, considered eccentric, and are more often thought to be mentally ill and potentially dangerous. It's almost a given that it's more desirable by a longshot to be sociable than to be someone who enjoys being by themselves. Despite this bias, some of the greatest contributions to science, art, and politics have been made by loners. And while an argument can be made that it is better for people to be sociable than to be loners, it's not obvious, to me at least, why that should be the case. The second thing that the blog post discusses is that a "good life" is not synonymous with a happy life: [T]o be a fully realized, accomplished human being never means "just being happy." Being fully human means feeling an often-painful empathy and working for a community we have not yet built. I once heard, I think in a movie that I can't remember, a statement that basically describes my view on happiness that I'll paraphrase thusly: "Happiness comes in small doses. It's a cookie before dinner, a cool breeze on a hot day, a kiss from a pretty girl. Happiness isn't a constant state; life is for the most part lacking happiness." I don't think that's depressing because I don't think I need to be happy to be fulfilled. In fact, I would say the 'good life', that is the life you would most like to live were you able to choose, is the life where ,more often than not, one chooses the difficult, perilous path rather than the easy, happy path. The things that are worth the most over the long term like character and self-confidence and wisdom are not forged during happy times, but rather during times of difficulty and uncertainty.
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Andrew Sullivan is having an 80s-music video contest on his blog. The categories are - Best 80s Video, Worst 80s Video, and the Best-Worst 80s Video. In the spirit of the contest, he had a post today which linked to an extended "intellectual" discussion of Bonnie Tyler's "Total Eclipse of the Heart" video.


The essay is entitled The Moral Battle That Rages In Bonnie Tyler's "A Total Eclipse of The Heart", and it ramblingly seems to describe the video as a clash between traditional religiosity and perverse sexual desires. This conflict plays out, at one point in the video, by the singer/narrator taking on the persona of Mary Magdalene wanting to have sex with Jesus and, at another point in the video, by the (adult) singer/narrator desiring young altar boys... It's silly and disturbing and time-wasting to talk this way about an 80s pop song, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that "Total Eclipse of the Heart" is a pretty interesting song. In fact, it's not at all a conventional love song. Actually, aside from the fact that it is a love song, I couldn't tell you at all what the song is even about. Gun to my head, I would guess that it's about someone who just went through a recent breakup and is taking it very badly. But there is very strong and unconventional imagery in the lyrics. For instance, the most repeated lyric (so repeated, in fact, that most everyone who doesn't know better assumes it's the song's title) - "Turn around, bright eyes". Bright eyes is a pretty strange way to refer to a lover. "Blue eyes", "Brown-eyed girl", "Pretty eyes", "Beautiful eyes", "Sultry eyes" all make sense, but "Bright eyes" isn't something that's usually considered a particularly attractive (or, for that matter, not attractive) quality in someone. But "Bright eyes" makes more sense when one thinks of the song as a series of contrasting light/dark images. The song's title, "Total Eclipse of the Heart", is obviously an image of darkness. Almost every line mentions darkness or lightness.

"Total Eclipse of the Heart" falls into the group of songs, best epitomized by Queen's "Bohemian Rhapsody", of rock drama ballads that sound and feel momentous, but upon further analysis, are mostly just confused imagery with orchestral backing. Which doesn't make them bad songs, but doesn't make them good songs either. Led Zeppelin's "D'yer Maker" is a cousin of these songs. It's a love song that forgoes sappy love lyrics and uses mostly nonsense lyrics - "Oh oh oh oh oh, you don't have to go oh oh oh oh":


Contrast these songs with something like the Beach Boys' "Wouldn't It Be Nice" which talks about teenage love in a simplistic and still-unappreciated way as a manifestation of the desire to enter adulthood. In the song, grown-up love and marriage is not poetic or blissful or any of those other clichés; rather, it is sleeping in your own bed, with the person you love, and doing what you want with your own time. The song is a realization that thinking about love and marriage as a teenager is, in many ways, the first concrete experience you have in planning your adult life. Naturally, most of the thoughts are a bit naïve and simplistic, but they're also charming in their innocence. I think the spirit of this song still applies today. One of the core yearnings behind teenage pregnancy and high school dropouts and similar phenomena is the desire to be a grown-up on your own timetable rather than society's timetable.


Of course, a song can be simple and profound without making some grand statement about childhood or adulthood or society. You probably couldn't get a simpler song than Janis Joplin's "Mercedes Benz" which, if you wanted to, you could analyze as a deep, meaningful statement about God and religion in our society, but really stands on its own as just a lament about how it'd be nice if all it took to have a Mercedes Benz and a color TV was to be a good, hardworking person: