Showing posts with label Tangled Up In Blue. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tangled Up In Blue. Show all posts

Sunday, July 19, 2009

Issa's Sunday Service, #12

Laura


Tangled Up in Blue by Bob Dylan on Grooveshark


Tomorrow is the birthday of that "Italian poet from the 13th century," Petrarch, a poet so driven by his idealized love for a woman named Laura that he revitalized the sonnet form. Of course, he was born and lived in the 14th century (1304 - 1374), but I am voting that Dylan read the dates and mistakenly came up with 13th century, a common enough error, or wrote from memory and got it wrong. Lots of Dylan folks think the poet he is referring to is Dante, but I'm sticking by my guns. In an interview in 1978 (scroll down for the interview excerpt), Dylan further muddled the matter when asked who the poet was when the discussion turned to the song, Tangled Up In Blue:


Craig : Its got those nice lines at the end, about ' there was music
in the cafes at night and revolution in the air' and ' some are
mathematicians, some are carpenters wives, I don't know how it
all got started, I don't know what they do with their lives'.

Dylan : I like that song. Yeah that poet from the 13th century....

Craig : Who was that ?

Dylan : Plutarch. Is that his name ?



Well, that's a hoot and a half, anyway you cut it. There have been so many variations of Tangled Up In Blue, along with so many variations of the particular lines in question (Dylan has evidently inserted Charles Baudelaire, the Bible, and the 15th century in various performances), the point is moot. In any case, it is Petrarch's birthday, so Petrarch it is, wrong or right.



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This week's poem from the Sunday "count up" (and for those paying close attention, you'll notice the countdown and count up have just overlapped, something that roughly might happen once every two and a half years) is from Lilliput Review #22. I've chosen a different poem from the 3 recently featured in the countdown, hope you enjoy it.



What is there
Single hawk stationary above the highway
------------flapping against the wind.
One dot black on the immense snow sky

-------------a tiny immortal
-------------the old peasant on the chinese scroll.

You can hear the geese but you can't see them.

Christien Gholson







departing geese
whatever are you
gabbing about?

Issa
translated by David Lanoue




best,
Don


The LitRock website with past selections is here.