Themes in Conor Oberst's lyrics (Part Two)

On Bright Eyes' latest album, The People's Key, Conor Oberst writes about the value of viewing life through a child's eyes. He devotes one whole song to this idea, "Beginner's Mind." He also touches on it in "Jejune Stars": "So it starts again / at our childhood's end / I'll die young at heart." He laments the loss of childhood and the fact that its perspective is gone or at least that it has to be reclaimed through a laborious process.

Inspired by a child's spontaneous take on life, he tells himself in "Beginner's Mind": "Swear you'll be the opposite / of all the stilted hypocrites / You know what made you infamous to them, don't you / you keep starting over." He wants to both understand his inner child and protect it: "Stay awhile my inner child / I'd like to learn your trick / to know what makes you tick / to nurse you when you're sick."

I agree with Conor that there is a purity of how we view the world as children. I wish we could stay children for longer ("Youth is wasted on the young"). How is it useful to regain a childlike perspective as adults? Could a wide-eyed approach be the best way to appreciate life? Or to put it another way, what do we get that is positive from becoming jaded? There is also the question of the essential self. In "One for You, One for Me," Conor writes, "We've come so far away from us." His desire to find and understand the purest part of himself is evident throughout the album.

Themes in Conor Oberst's lyrics (Part One)

I have been having an interesting time mining the field of Conor Oberst's lyrics. It is such rich territory that I thought I might even do a series of posts on the topic. Conor Oberst is one of those artists whom I want to thank for sharing himself with the world--he has that much to contribute. He is known for his highly personal lyrics, and as he said, wryly, "I like to feel the burn of the audience's eyes on me as I'm whispering all my darkest secrets into the microphone." He has been touted as a great songwriter by such high profile sources as Rolling Stone and celebrated author Jonathan Franzen, but he brushes off the accolades. I think he is someone who just wants to get at the truth, which I respect.

One common thread in his writing spans at least a couple of songs across Bright Eyes' albums--"Lover I Don't Have to Love" and "Take it Easy (Love Nothing)." The lyrics of "Lover I Don't Have to Love" are fascinating--it seems that he turns around from the sex, drugs, and rock and roll mentality to the realization of the emptiness therein all within a single song. He sings, "I need some meaning I can memorize / The kind I have always seems to slip my mind." He is looking for something meaningful; the other stuff is hollow.

In "Take it Easy (Love Nothing)," he claims that he will never let himself get hurt again: "Now I do as I please and lie through my teeth / Someone might get hurt, but it won't be me." But if he still feels the way he did when he wrote "Lover I Don't Have to Love," love is worth getting hurt: "Love's an excuse to get hurt / Do you like to hurt? / I do, I do / Then hurt me." Of course that can be read in a self-destructive sense, in line with the prior lyrics of the song, but I think that may not be what he is ultimately getting at. I read it as coming to an understanding of the necessary risk of getting hurt. That double layer of meaning makes the lyrics all the more intriguing.

A tribute to my favorite actress

I was saddened to read that Elizabeth Taylor passed away today at the age of 79 after battling congestive heart failure. A true survivor, she suffered for many years from various illnesses. Named Elizabeth like me, she too hated the nickname "Liz" people always think they can call you! "It sounds like a hiss," she said, and I agree. She was renowned for her beauty (complete with violet eyes), but far from just being eye candy, she was a wonderful actress. Her acting displayed heart, vulnerability, courage, and fire.

I have not seen every film she made, but I have seen many of them. I especially loved her in Giant, Butterfield 8, and Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? (her performances in the last two earned her Oscars). To round out my top five Elizabeth Taylor movies, I would add Cat on a Hot Tin Roof and A Place in the Sun.

When her friend and Giant costar Rock Hudson died in 1985, Taylor began her tireless humanitarian work on behalf of those suffering with AIDS. A staunch ally of the LGBT community, she was close friends with gay costar Montgomery Clift, and with James Dean, who was likely bisexual. Neither her support of her gay friends nor her crusading against the AIDS epidemic were popular actions at the time the way they would be today. She stood up for what she believed in. She has left a remarkable legacy and will be missed.

The smell of books

Rachael Morrison, who works at the Museum of Modern Art Library, began a piece of performance art a year ago that consists of smelling every book in the collection, starting with the first call number in the Library of Congress classification system. She says, "I document the performance in a ledger, recording the call number, title, and a description of the smell of each book. The goal of this personal olfactory exploration is to foster a discussion of the future of print media, the ways we read, methods of classification, and the way in which smell is entwined with memory."

I am reminded of one of my favorite bits from How I Became a Famous Novelist, by Steve Hely, when Pete attends a book exposition:

"Along one wall were booths for hardware companies, where you could try out little hand-held iPod-style devices for reading. I picked up the Toshiba Dante and the girl showed me how to scroll through. I started reading one of the Harry Potter books on the light-up screen, but I found myself missing the feeling of dominance that comes from cracking the spine in two. I suggested she add a perfume dispenser that emitted the stink of dye and cut paper. She didn't seem interested."

I remember as a little kid I would smell every book I was reading. I have always liked how most new books smell and often the smell of antique books, too. Of course, library books occasionally can smell unpleasant: think cigarette smoke or bad perfume.

I am not personally interested in reading books on an e-reader because of how reading a traditional, physical book involves more senses than just sight. A physical book is tactile--I like actually turning the pages--and of course there is the smell. Says Bob Stein of the Institute for the Future of the Book: "These smells have an evocative power, especially for people who grew up loving books," and I certainly did!

Photograph of Rachael Morrison by Michael Schmelling

Reading as an act of "quiet revolution"

In The Lost Art of Reading: Why Books Matter in a Distracted Time, David Ulin expands upon an essay he wrote for the Los Angeles Times in 2009. This slim volume is an ode to the practice of reading in our current age of information overload. Ulin's book combines memoir and literary criticism, a blend that works well. He frames the content with his experience rereading The Great Gatsby as his son reads it for a school assignment.

What reading gives us, Ulin says, is not only meditation apart from other people but also the connection we form with the author through his or her words. "We regain the world by withdrawing from it just a little, by stepping back from the noise, the tumult, to discover our reflections in another mind" (151). Ulin goes so far as to characterize reading in this day and age as revolutionary, "an act of resistance in a landscape of distraction, a matter of engagement in a society that seems to want nothing more than for us to disengage" (150).

The implications of this distracted state are addressed in another recent book, Alone Together: Why We Expect More From Technology and Less From Each Other, by Sherry Turkle, who asserts that we are becoming so "immersed in technology that we ignore what we know about life." This thought is in line with Ulin's belief that we should take a step back from the large number of distractions we face. Few of us are immune, and we all may need reminding about the value of reading.

Review of Black Swan

Darren Aronofsky has done it again--another harrowing and thought-provoking drama. His previous effort, The Wrestler, has much in common with his latest. Black Swan explores the interplay between madness and art in a competitive context.

Natalie Portman plays Nina Sayers, a ballerina chosen to replace aging Beth (Winona Ryder) as star of the company, playing the lead in Swan Lake. Director Thomas (Vincent Cassel) sees her as a natural White Swan, but she must also play the Black Swan, requiring an abandon he is doubtful that she can possess. Mila Kunis plays Lily, whom Nina sees as her rival but also as someone whose comparative worldliness intrigues her. Barbara Hershey has a memorable turn as Nina's rather suffocating, ex-ballerina mother.

Viewers are made to question how much is reality versus fantasy as Nina's delusions are played out onscreen. I wondered whether or not Lily was completely made up by Nina, given how many of the delusions are wrapped up with her. Some criticism of the film has centered around the horror movie tactics that pick up in the second half of the movie, but that is when Nina's psychological deteroriation increases in severity and therefore make sense. Set against the beauty of the Swan Lake production, Nina's mental breakdown is the more disturbing. For all the figures who are causing her turmoil in her life, Nina is her own worst foe.

The film is not so much about the world of ballet as a broader look at the parallel between art and madness and about delving too far into what one cannot handle. In fact, in a case of life imitating art, the role was nearly too intense for Portman: "There were some nights that I thought I literally was going to die," she said. "It was the first time I understood how you could get so wrapped up in a role that it could sort of take you down." Black Swan is a riveting look at an artist's breakdown, but the message of the movie seems to be a cautionary one rather than a complete romanticization. The violence contained in the film is therefore not gratuitous. The movie may be hard for some to take, but it is well done.

The end-of-year booklists

Every year I am somewhat surprised and dismayed to find that I have read barely any books on the "best of the year" booklists. One reason is that I don't restrict my reading at all to the current year's releases. I also may have different standards than the book reviewers.

Check out some of the lists for 2010:
Kirkus Reviews Top 25 Fiction
Kirkus Reviews Top 25 Nonfiction
Library Journal Top Ten
The New York Times Ten Best Books
The New York Times 100 Notable Books
Publishers Weekly Best Books

What do you think of the selections? Have you read any? I haven't--except for Let's Take the Long Way Home, by Gail Caldwell (a PW pick for best nonfiction).

Notable novels that I want to get around to reading:
Freedom, by Jonathan Franzen
Super Sad True Love Story, by Gary Shteyngart

Notable works of nonfiction that I'm interested in reading:
Autobiography of Mark Twain, Vol. 1, by Mark Twain
Country Driving: A Journey Through China from Farm to Factory, by Peter Hessler
Last Call: The Rise and Fall of Prohibition, by Daniel Okrent

Graphic by Sarah Illenberger for The New York Times