NOT DARK YET
TIM...@aol.com
You know, TOOM may just be Bob’s greatest achievement. Let’s face it, after
such a long careeer, one that has been vital long after most rock stars either
die or become a nostalgic act pimping their own hits, Dylan was able to make a
record equal to anything he ever did, and that in and of itself, for the man
who changed not just the face of popular music, but our own preconceptions of
high and low art, is in itself, an incredible accomplishment.
But, the coolest, most amazing thing about TOOM is that my CD player has yet
to get sick of this record. I have played it at least, at least, at least
every week since its September release and most weeks every day, and I am
still enthralled, chilled, amazed. It’s a fuckin marvel. Anybody who doesn’t
dig this record doesn’t dig music. Anyone who criticizes this record, doesn’t
know what the hell they are talking about, are limited in their thinking and
maybe even, just plain stupid.
Are you with me ladies and gentlemen?
Okay, okay. Enough of that. So, I keep noticing new things, or things just hit
me for what seems like the first time. Now, my favorite song on the album is
probably Dirt Road Blues cause, I just dig that old rockabilly sound. But,
last night, this one song seem to show itself anew to me and I thought I might
put down in writin what was on my mind.
Not Dark Yet
Now, at first hearing this sounds like another endearing, morose ode to
bleakness. But good lord, there is a story going on here and the imagery is so
subtle. The sun is setting and a world-weary man, a survivor who sees no
pleasure or honor in surviving, reaches the conclusion that things are bad,
and will get worse, and that’s because suffering is at the core of the human
condition.
Shadows are falling and I been here all day
It's too hot to sleep and time is running away
Here the narrator finds himself alone, at dusk, unable to sleep. Time is
running away seems a description of this day, another useless 24 hour period
is ending, but also time is running away implies that life is ending, age has
taken its toll, there are more days behind than there are ahead. What is the
wisdom one recieves at this point in life. For Dylan, it remains honesty. The
honesty brings no consolation. It’s brutal.
Feel like my soul has turned into steel
Her sin is her lifelessness. Alienation has always been a common theme in
Dylan; he’s highly aware of how disconnected the world and it’s confusion
makes us. Of course, identity is one of Dylan’s great themes, a theme
championed by Jewish American Writers such as Bellows, Roth, Ginsberg and
Delmore Schwartz. But Dylan has likewise been aware of greater powers, of the
universal mind if you will or the supernatural influences on our lives. Now,
his awarness of alienation has become dramtically overpowering. It’s seeping
into the soul, transforming even our eternal identity into something
disconneted from broth the world, the universe, and yourself.
I've still got the scars that the sun didn't heal
Are these wounds from a physical injury? Are these the pyschic wounds we get
from life? Or are they wounds from lost love, love gone wrong, the wounds of
the heart that once he was so easy to dismiss as wasting his precious time.
But that’s not so easy with time running away.
Yet, if I think of this song as a story, I just love the picture, some bitter
middle age dude who is recuperating or something in a lone cabin, spent the
day outside in the sun and now alone in his room, realizes the sun didn’t do
anything to the scars. This line implies a pathos of the narrator. It’s almost
absurb. Also, scars are healed wounds right? They often don’t disappear. They
are often marks of specific turmoils.
There's not even room enough to be anywhere
This line is just jam-packed with meaning. But, consider the story. This man
is in not just in a small place, a room. For some reason I think of a cabin
broken down. Some lonesome drifter renting a one room place from Flem Snopes.
And, he is extremely restless. So restless, the walls are crawling in, and
he’s looking out the window and the day is ending nad he is bitter and
depressed and what does he realize?
It's not dark yet, but it's getting there
Again, this is within the story. Shadows are falling, but he realizes, it is
not dark yet, even though, it is certainly no longer sunny. That ball of light
has set. But it is getting darker. But it is not DARK. DARK. And again, as
great literature uses words to internalize the natural world, to infuse it
with meaning, dark is death. The truly sad thought is that he is not dead,
that no matter how battered he is, how used and abused and alienated, it’s
still not death. There’s this bitter revelation that he still HAS TO WAIT FOR
DEATH. and, that makes him sad, the fact death has still not arrived.
This song is so powerful. Who else would even dare to reveal to us just honest
ambiguity. This is a territory even Willie Dixon and Robert Johnson did not
tread.
Well my sense of humanity is going down the drain
Behind every beautiful thing, there's been some kind of pain
What a couplet. No wonder there’s a melancholy to the narrator’s rueful
contemplation that no matter how bad he feels, it’s still not completely dark.
He’s aware that it’s not his youth that has slipped away, but his wonder and
compassion and he regrets the absence, although he feels no nostalgia for
them. And even his perception of beauty is tainted. When one can not even
appreciate beauty without thinking of the dark side, that’s truly lost. And, I
think here, this is really more about the narrator’s state of mind than any
kind of moral statement, because the next couple we are directly in the "plot"
of the song.
She wrote me a letter and she wrote it so kind
She put down in writin' what was in her mind
Well, this is Dylan, and there’s always a woman somewhere, either helping him
or hurting him. The narrator is reading a letter from a lover alone in a cabin
at dusk. Whatever is written there, it’s not bringing out the man in me we
knew of new morning, and she is not providing shelter from the storm. Is this
a Dr. John letter? Is this a letter saying she loves him and wants him back,
but he’s so aleinated and lost that he doesn’t want to go back? We don’t know
what is this letter, and we don’t have to.
I just don't see why I should even care
It's not dark yet, but it's getting there
Because, a man in this condition doesn’t care about the tenderness and love in
a letter. Not now, not so close to death. Then the listener’s struck by the
narrator’s delusion, that this is dark brother. This is as dark as it gets and
he doesn’t even know it.
Then, just as the bitterness of the reverie can’t seem to increase, the
narrator reviews his past and the conclusions wrench the heart.
Well I been to London and I been to gay Paree
Using this antiquated terminology, gay paree, just echoes and echoes with the
bitterness of the narrator. It’s so wonderfully simple. This guy just isn’t
impressed by anything. Basically, he’s dismissing the city of lights, and
perhaps by implication, western civilzation.
I followed the river and I got to the sea
The river runs into the sea but the sea is not yet filled. That’s one of my
favorite line of the bible, and as I looked up the spelling to that book of
the bible, I found this,
Ecclesiastes (êklê²zêàs´têz), book of the OLD TESTAMENT, 21st in the
Authorized Version, traditionally ascribed to SOLOMON but clearly written much
later (3d cent. B.C. or as late as 160 B.C.). A philosophical essay, it opens
with the theme that since "all is vanity," life should be enjoyed. This is
followed by praise of wisdom and mercy, an emphasis on the universality of
death, and a brief epilogue on the fear of God's judgment.
I think Dylan has become dissuliosuined with the bible. Oh, he doesn’t dismiss
it, but let’s face it, going Christian did not satisfy him. So, he is really
lving the all is vanity dictum. He’s not impressed by beauty, paris, and now,
even the wonders of nature, the sea.
I've been down to the bottom of a whirlpool of lies
Even the sea just reminds him of the deception of this world, the courrption
he’s railed against in It’s All Right Ma, or the reason why Everything is
Broken. And he’s tried, he’s been to the bottom of the whrilpool of lies, and
what did he find. Not truth, just more lies. More bleakness.
I ain't lookin for nothin' in anyone's eyes
And, his fellow man, his friends and families—he has stopped wondering what’s
been happening to his companions. There’s nothing there. They either are dead
or useless at this point. Or used up.
Sometimes my burden is more than I can bear
It's not dark yet, but it's getting there
Now, I need to make a comment outside of the narritive. Listen to the way
Dylan sings this couplet on the studio track. I swear, I was listening to this
line last night and the bueaty of this vocal took my breath away. The voice is
ragged and tender and just so sad. There is such a feeling of resignation to
it. It’s really one of his best vocals, JUST THIS COUPLET. I swear, it tears
your heart out. Even Billy Holiday never phrased utter anguish so poignantly.
Listen again my friends.
You get the feeling the narrator’s eyes may be fixin on the shot gun on this
cabin walls, but there is only him and his pain to shoot. And part of his
burden is, he can’t even do that.
But the burden, the realization that his memories are more than he can bear,
just comes at such an amazing point in the song. Think of it, the narrator is
alone in this cabin at dusk. He thinks about the day and realizes he still has
scars. He realizes everything that has made him human and happy is gone, and
thinks about the last letter from a lost love. This doesn’t make him feel good
either. Then he thinks about his life, his travels etc., and feels so useless
he contemplates suicide. Nothing matters, not even the people he has known. He
has given up on them, he has given up on his life, he has given up on his
past. IT’s more than he can bear. You can feel the tears in his eyes as he
gazes at the setting sun, it’s not dark yet but it’s getting there, that
darkness, will that be more pain or the absolution of pain and we don’t know,
you can have all the faith in the world, but you still will never really KNOW.
And all you can do is sit there, watch the shadows deepen and contemplate the
bleak side of life, the ruins we wander through before we die.
I was born here and I'll die here, against my will
Again, back to the plot. The cabin is the roots of the narrator. He has come
to where he was born and grew up and there’s no nostalgia, just the feeling he
has never had a choice.
I know it looks like I'm movin' but I'm standin' still
So you’re home one might say, you’ve conquered the world and come to see where
you started. No realizes, I’ve gone nowhere, I’ve accomplished nothing, and as
the next line reaveals, he no longer feels human.
Every nerve in my body is so naked and numb
I can't even remember what it was I came here to get away from.
Now everything is erased, even the ability of his body to function, and even
his past. What was in that letter? The letter is the key to the story. Maybe
he looked at the letter after a very tough day and whatever was it sent him
over the edge into a chasam of sorrow that was incapicating. But the fact this
sorrow exists is at the core of the human condition. This life is one of
suffering. As Rimbaud said, as the damned soul rises, so does the fire. We
can’t escape love, we can’t escape the fact all is ephemeral. The letter could
have been a Dear John, a poison pen, or a valentine. It doesn’t matter. You
look at life, you look at your life, and you're still alone waiting for the
night in a cabin in the land of your birth, and your death.
Then the final couplet just echoes devestation, personal devestation. Even
faith, a faith Dylan once had, is not enough.
Don't even hear the murmur of a prayer
It's not dark yet, but it's getting there
Not even a murmer of a prayer. What an amazing thought. This guy, when he hits
it, he hits straight on without blinking. The genuis is so subtle sometime.
Look, I think Dylan beleives in God, and sometimes it gives him comfort, like
in father of night, and sometimes ti doesn’t. And, there are some states of
mind, where faith is not enough. I believe in you when light turns to dark, he
sang once. But that’s not enough now. The sorrow is too much, and that sorrow
is the fact that we are going to die, and no matter how much we read or
experience, we never really know love or the universe. We only know dusk.
I think I’ll call this woman I’m seeing and meet her for dinner. I think I’ll
buy toys for the children I’m seeing and flowers for my mother. I think I’ll
walk to the river and watch the boats and the buildings on the far shore. I
think I will see a late matinee so I don’t have to watch the sunset, and at
night go somewhere where people are dancing. I don’t want to see the fading of
the sunlight. I know that tiny cabin the Not Dark Yet narrator finds himself,
with unhealed scars and letters from ex-lovers, I just choose not go there
today.
Tomorrow, all bets are off, but not today.
Nicole Walter
On Wed, 11 Feb 1998 09:16:54 EST, TIM...@aol.com wrote:
>Ecclesiastes ... book of the OLD TESTAMENT ... traditionally ascribed
>to SOLOMON but clearly written much later .... A philosophical essay,
>it opens with the theme that since "all is vanity," life should be
>enjoyed. This is followed by praise of wisdom and mercy, an emphasis
>on the universality of death, and a brief epilogue on the fear of
>God's judgment.
First of all, thanks for the wonderful, deeply felt reading of "Not Dark
Yet." It brought me back to the weekend before TOOM's release, when I
-- tapeless -- listened to Vin Scelsa's "Idiot's Delight" on WNEW-FM
[N.Y.] in the hope of hearing any selections. I certainly was
rewarded: with "Trying to Get to Heaven" at the very beginning of the
show, with "Cold Irons Bound," and finally, with "Not Dark Yet." At
this time, Scelsa was also acting in a production of "Waiting for Godot"
in Montclair, N.J, and he prefaced the last song with a long thematic
comparison to Beckett's play. Hearing it for the first time in that
context was a experience I won't forget. I've heard it AS for the first
time several times since; and I feel sure that your reading will lead me
and many others to partake of that newness again.
Second, your linking of the song to Ecclesiastes couldn't be more apt,
for, despite its endorsement of "wisdom" in accepting present reality
and enjoying what one can, the book is possessed by an undercurrent of
bitterness and tragic recognition: at the futility of human effort, at
the predetermined pattern of fate, at the prosperity of the wicked, and
most of all, at the omnipresence of death and oblivion.
I thought I'd just copy out the passage to which you refer, because of
its undeniable relevance:
All is vanity.
What does man gain by all the toil
at which he toils under the sun?
A generation goes, and a generation comes,
but the earth remains forever.
... All streams return to the sea,
but the sea is not full;
to the place where the streams flow,
there they flow again.
All things are full of weariness;
a man cannot utter it;
the eye is not satisfied with seeing,
nor the ear filled with hearing.
What has been is what will be,
and what has been done is what will be done;
and there is nothing new under the sun. 1.2-4,7-9
Stephen D. Walter
-----
"And I'm still carrying the gift you gave,
It's a part of me now, it's been cherished and saved"
William J Vadbunker
Funny, isn't it? I thought the song was about shoes.
I think some interseting points are brought up, but sometimes the best
explanation is no explanation. I don't care if he is singing about losing
his keys. That pedal steel and slide guitar together making that
orchestra sound...wow that speaks. When he hits the line, "I was born
here an' I'll die here against my will," That tells all that needs to be
said. If we overanalyze we can tend to lose the beauty. For example, I
was in an Art History class and the teacher was so into analyzing the
works that she never stood back for a moment and said, "Isn't this one of
the most beautiful things you have ever seen?" That's how we can begin to
understand humanity as a whole and ,aybe even each other. Nothing has to
be said, you just know it.
This is just my two cents to be take with a grain of salt and a
pitcher of your favorite ale.
Bill V.
TIM...@aol.com
>Subject: Re: NOT DARK YET
>Funny, isn't it? I thought the song was about shoes.
>I think some interseting points are brought up, but sometimes the best
>explanation is no explanation. I don't care if he is singing about losing
>his keys. That pedal steel and slide guitar together making that
>orchestra sound...wow that speaks. When he hits the line, "I was born
>here an' I'll die here against my will," That tells all that needs to be
>said. If we overanalyze we can tend to lose the beauty. For example, I
>was in an Art History class and the teacher was so into analyzing the
>works that she never stood back for a moment and said, "Isn't this one of
>the most beautiful things you have ever seen?" That's how we can begin to
>understand humanity as a whole and ,aybe even each other. Nothing has to
>be said, you just know it.
>This is just my two cents to be take with a grain of salt and a
>pitcher of your favorite ale.
Bill V.
>On Wed, 11 Feb 1998 TIM...@aol.com wrote:
> You know, TOOM may just be Bob=92s greatest achievement. Let=92s face it,=
after
SNIP
Well, you know the rest.
Sadly, this poster is furthering our idiot, sports-obsessed, shallow culture
with his anti-intellectual attitude. Analyzing art in an art history class,
what an outrage, huh. I think I need at least a salt mine and a brewry to
swallow this opinion. Art history is about the history of art, about how how
ideas and techniques evolved over time and cultures. It’s about trying to put
something in context so when we do step back and appreciate something, the
appreciation is deeper. It helps us understand humanity better. You mean the
teacher was actually trying to make the students think? OHMYGOD! What a
horror! What a bummer! I hope you didn’t have to miss a keg party.
I attempted to bring out some of the ambiguity of the lyrics, also to point
out what I see as a narritive to the song. That there is a story going on, and
one to me, wasn’t apparent the first time through. I think when he comes to
the line, I was born here and I died here, it has more of an impact because it
is part of a narrative., the narrative developed at this point.
I attempted to write about how I feel about the song, as well as an attempt to
interpret the meaning of the lyrics, and the lyrics do have a deeper meaning.
Of course, our cutlure, and Europe and Asia are just as bad as America, has
become quite opposed to deeper meanings. We don’t have the attention spans for
deeper ideas. They scare us. They scare us from our TV shows with simple
resolutions our or sports events with their sacred goal of mindless
entertainment with a win or loose mentality. They scare us from our video
games. It’s truly sad.
I like to have a good time as much as anybody. I appreciate art for art’s
sake. I listen to Bob because first and foremost, I enjoy him. It gives me
pleasure.I dance at his shows. I am in the rock and roll moment. But I also
know that when I scratch the surface, I see a bigger world as well. And I
marvel at it, and I am amazed at it. And, it makes me think of not just what
happens in my own personal expereince, but other works of art, specifically
literature, or especially literature. When I make the connections, and think
of a way to express those connections, I try to formulate a post, which in the
end, is at least an alternative to the shallow, pathetic reviews we read in
the mainstream press. What I wasn’t doing was explaining the song. I was
examing it for something deeper, and I think, that examindation was rewareded
because there is a lot going on in that song.
Yeah, Not Dark Yet is about shoes. Keep it pigenhold like that. Keep it safe.
Don’t let it make you think about other things, or about aesthetics or about
the severity of the ideas and the state of mind being depicted. Don’t read
books. Go back to your television and continue to shut your mind off and
continue to be part of the decay which in the end, forces our humanity down
the drain.
Anti-intellectualism is sickening. It undermines our potential. It’s just too
damn easy. It’s really supporting everything Bob’s songs oppose.
Nicole Walter
In my first posting on "concert behavior," I wrote:
>No one has ever really known where -- or how -- to "place" Dylan's
>art, but the attempts to converse about it, to explore its
>contradictions, can be intensely rewarding, and provide a model for
>cultural work itself as a process never finished, a vexed but open
>conversation.
On Fri, 13 Feb 1998 11:46:49 -0600, William J Vadbunker
<wvad...@SHRIKE.DEPAUL.EDU>, responding to TIMHRK's excellent reading
of "Not Dark Yet," wrote:
>... sometimes the best explanation is no explanation. ... if we
>overanalyze we can tend to miss the beauty.
To my mind, the Wordsworthian adage that we "murder to dissect" can only
be taken so far: it portrays analysis as a coldly surgical activity,
devoid of passion, and ultimately self-deluding. But interpretation is
a basic human activity, not synonomous with "explanation" [paraphrase]
but closer to a word like evocation: that is, an attempt to draw out
meanings, proliferate understandings, as opposed to sealing them off.
Analysis -- properly used -- is simply a tool of interpretation, one of
its strongest, in fact, and carries of itself no deadening claim to
"scientific" certainty. At its best, analysis can be as informed by
passion as any other response to Dylan's work; it can embody the ideal
so poignantly expressed by Yeats: that of "blood, imagination,
intellect, all running together."