Posted on 10/13/2016 12:16:57 PM PDT by Hostage
Bob Dylan, regarded as the voice of a generation for his influential songs from the 1960s onwards, has won the Nobel Prize for Literature in a surprise decision that made him the only singer-songwriter to win the award.
The 75-year-old Dylan — who won the prize for "having created new poetic expressions within the great American song tradition" — now finds himself in the company of Winston Churchill, Thomas Mann and Rudyard Kipling as Nobel laureates.
The announcement was met with gasps in Stockholm's stately Royal Academy hall, followed — unusually — by some laughter.
Dylan's songs, such as "Blowin' in the Wind," "The Times They Are a-Changin'," "Subterranean Homesick Blues," and "Like a Rolling Stone" captured a spirit of rebellion, dissent and independence.
More than 50 years on, Dylan is still writing songs and is often on tour, performing his dense poetic lyrics, sung in a sometimes rasping voice that has been ridiculed by detractors.
Some lyrics have resonated for decades.
"Blowin' in the Wind," written in 1962, was considered one of the most eloquent folk songs of all time. "The Times They Are A-Changin'," in which Dylan told Americans "your sons and your daughters are beyond your command," was an anthem of the civil rights movement and Vietnam War protests.
Awarding the 8 million Swedish crown ($930,000) prize, the Swedish Academy said: "Dylan has the status of an icon. His influence on contemporary music is profound."
Swedish Academy member Per Wastberg said: "He is probably the greatest living poet."
(Excerpt) Read more at cnbc.com ...
The New Yorker panned "Bringing It All Back Home" and "Highway 61 Revisited" in their March 19, 1966 issue. It's actually quite funny. Some excerpts:
His songs range from fairly simple plaints in a familiar folk vein to diatribes in which musical form -- rudimentary in his work at best -- is forced to yield to his pell-mell exhortations...
Before Dylan's emergence as a popular performer in his own right, his pieces depended for their success on the melodious deliveries of folk singers like Peter, Paul & Mary or Joan Baez. The sudden assault of "Like A Rolling Stone" changed all that... he adopted the rock-'n'-roll apparatus, and in the latter recording a sizable combo (amplified guitars, piano, organ, drums, and bass) helps create a considerable racket...
Dylan's protest songs, not to mention those of his imitators, are much less interesting, both musically and lyrically, than such notable songs of the depression days as can be found in, say, Harold Rome's "Needles and Pins" score. They lack, among other things, the artistic detachment and the attendant humor and grace that distinguished the latter.
For example, when he was the darling of the New Left, he expressed his admiration for Barry Goldwater.
But I don't think he was on a level with the literary greats of the 20th century.
We're not living in the 20th century, though, and he may well turn out to be one of the high points of the era we're in now.
It's striking that this didn't get any play at all on the cable news networks.
They're too preoccupied with the election, of course, but it's a sign of how little the Nobel Prize for literature -- and maybe literature itself -- means today.
Bob has a great sense of humor but in songs like Blowin’ in the Wind, The Times They Are A-Changin’ and Hattie Carroll, he is corrosive at times. Of course, he was heavily influenced by Woody Guthrie early on. I also think his renditions of these angry songs are the best (except for Hattie Carroll - Collins brings great sensitivity to that one).
A college professor once went around the room with “who is your favorite poet”. When he got to me I said “ Bob Dylan.” All he said was “very interesting “ and moved on. :-)
This feels like the lamest Nobel win since they gave it to Obama for not being Bush
— Hari Kunzru (@harikunzru) October 13, 2016
I'm a Dylan fan, but this is an ill conceived nostalgia award wrenched from the rancid prostates of senile, gibbering hippies.
— Irvine Welsh (@IrvineWelsh) October 13, 2016
I’m sure with a little thought you could come up with a large list of authors worldwide who have done vastly better work. It’s just another political Nobel.
The New Yorker reviewer definitely missed Bob’s sense of humor.
I put Bob’s 1966 and earlier lyrics right up there with any poet’s, and I like the whole package as well, music and all.
I bet your college prof, if he or she is still around, remembered in light of today’s news a certain student who called out Dylan as the favorite poet.
You were very sharp and brave to call Bob out.
Sometimes our literature professors miss the undercurrent of society and what truly moves people. Just like a lot of classically trained musicians missed the Beatles until ‘Eleanor Rigby’, then they could no longer ignore the phenomena of this pop music.
A fairly known anecdote of author Michael Crichton had him in college wanting to be a writer and as he took a literature course the best grade he could ever get was a C-. So he said the hell with and decided to plagiarize a portion of CS Lewis and turn it in. The grade came back C-. That’s when he decided to give up on becoming a writer and went to medical school instead.
Some of us are confusing fond memories of our youth with excellence. Next it will be Kanye West or Tupac Shakur.
Ping FYI.
Not sure what’s up with you and the italics.
But if those are your sentiments, you are entitled to them.
But you may want to give a read to lonevoice’s insight into Dylan’s genius in post #34 above.
Love this song:
I had a job in the great north woods
Working as a cook for a spell
But I never did like it all that much
And one day the axe just fell
So I drifted down to New Orleans
Where I was looking for to be employed
Workin’ for a while on a fishin’ boat
Right outside of Delacroix
But all the while I was alone
The past was close behind
I seen a lot of women
But she never escaped my mind
And I just grew
Tangled up in blue
That is so cool I’m actually jealous of the reflected glory. My fandom would have overtaken any good sense, and probably rendered me obnoxious. :-)
I guess Ray Stevens got passed over because the Nobel committee was afraid some people might be offended by “Ahab the Arab.”
One of my favorites of all time. Loved it the first moment I had heard him sing it. And my mother did too!
Those are negative tweets from Twitter.
They are a lot funnier than the positive tweets.
Like Teddy Roosevelt's daughter Alice said: "If you can’t say something good about someone, sit right here by me."
Lol! I would like to have known Alice!
Just reading without the rollicking beat is a tad less impactful, but this is American Poetry at its best, methinks.
The festival was over, the boys were all plannin’ for a fall
The cabaret was quiet except for the drillin’ in the wall
The curfew had been lifted and the gamblin’ wheel shut down
Anyone with any sense had already left town
He was standin’ in the doorway lookin’ like the Jack of Hearts
He moved across the mirrored room, “Set it up for everyone,” he said
Then everyone commenced to do what they were doin’ before he turned their heads
Then he walked up to a stranger and he asked him with a grin
“Could you kindly tell me, friend, what time the show begins?”
Then he moved into the corner, face down like the Jack of Hearts
Backstage the girls were playin’ five-card stud by the stairs
Lily had two queens, she was hopin’ for a third to match her pair
Outside the streets were fillin’ up, the window was open wide
A gentle breeze was blowin’, you could feel it from inside
Lily called another bet and drew up the Jack of Hearts
Big Jim was no one’s fool, he owned the town’s only diamond mine
He made his usual entrance lookin’ so dandy and so fine
With his bodyguards and silver cane and every hair in place
He took whatever he wanted to and he laid it all to waste
But his bodyguards and silver cane were no match for the Jack of Hearts
Rosemary combed her hair and took a carriage into town
She slipped in through the side door lookin’ like a queen without a crown
She fluttered her false eyelashes and whispered in his ear
“Sorry, darlin’, that I’m late,” but he didn’t seem to hear
He was starin’ into space over at the Jack of Hearts
“I know I’ve seen that face before,” Big Jim was thinkin’ to himself
“Maybe down in Mexico or a picture up on somebody’s shelf”
But then the crowd began to stamp their feet and the houselights did dim
And in the darkness of the room there was only Jim and him
Starin’ at the butterfly who just drew the Jack of Hearts
Lily was a princess, she was fair-skinned and precious as a child
She did whatever she had to do, she had that certain flash every time she smiled
She’d come away from a broken home, had lots of strange affairs
With men in every walk of life which took her everywhere
But she’d never met anyone quite like the Jack of Hearts
The hangin’ judge came in unnoticed and was being wined and dined
The drillin’ in the wall kept up but no one seemed to pay it any mind
It was known all around that Lily had Jim’s ring
And nothing would ever come between Lily and the king
No, nothin’ ever would except maybe the Jack of Hearts
Rosemary started drinkin’ hard and seein’ her reflection in the knife
She was tired of the attention, tired of playin’ the role of Big Jim’s wife
She had done a lot of bad things, even once tried suicide
Was lookin’ to do just one good deed before she died
She was gazin’ to the future, riding on the Jack of Hearts
Lily washed her face, took her dress off and buried it away
“Has your luck run out?” she laughed at him, “Well, I guess you must
have known it would someday
Be careful not to touch the wall, there’s a brand-new coat of paint
I’m glad to see you’re still alive, you’re lookin’ like a saint”
Down the hallway footsteps were comin’ for the Jack of Hearts
The backstage manager was pacing all around by his chair
“There’s something funny going on,” he said, “I can just feel it in the air”
He went to get the hangin’ judge, but the hangin’ judge was drunk
As the leading actor hurried by in the costume of a monk
There was no actor anywhere better than the Jack of Hearts
Lily’s arms were locked around the man that she dearly loved to touch
She forgot all about the man she couldn’t stand who hounded her so much
“I’ve missed you so,” she said to him, and he felt she was sincere
But just beyond the door he felt jealousy and fear
Just another night in the life of the Jack of Hearts
No one knew the circumstance but they say that it happened pretty quick
The door to the dressing room burst open and a cold revolver clicked
And Big Jim was standin’ there, ya couldn’t say surprised
Rosemary right beside him, steady in her eyes
She was with Big Jim but she was leanin’ to the Jack of Hearts
Two doors down the boys finally made it through the wall
And cleaned out the bank safe, it’s said that they got off with quite a haul
In the darkness by the riverbed they waited on the ground
For one more member who had business back in town
But they couldn’t go no further without the Jack of Hearts
The next day was hangin’ day, the sky was overcast and black
Big Jim lay covered up, killed by a penknife in the back
And Rosemary on the gallows, she didn’t even blink
The hangin’ judge was sober, he hadn’t had a drink
The only person on the scene missin’ was the Jack of Hearts
The cabaret was empty now, a sign said, “Closed for repair”
Lily had already taken all of the dye out of her hair
She was thinkin’ ’bout her father, who she very rarely saw
Thinkin’ ’bout Rosemary and thinkin’ about the law
But most of all she was thinkin’ ’bout the Jack of Hearts
Really? Who’s your friend? Bob Metzger?
Awesome musicians, all of them.
I’ve seen Cohen live many times; even went to some of the fan-organized Events held every 2 years where the musicians show up and play minus Cohen Himself.
Have seen Dylan live many times also.
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