THANK YOU! I have entire songs about this! The sheer shittiness of Dylan's disregard even when he's showing "reverence." Who asked to be your muse, bitch!? I love his music so, but his near-sighted condescension wounds deeply.
Thanks for this writing. Recently as I was leaving my sister and brother in love after a memorable visit I played Leonard Cohen for us while I rushed to get dressed. I kept the music playing when I got in the Uber with a young Arab cab driver, who loved the introduction to his music as we drove through the dark Los Angeles streets. Leonard's songs are addressed to us - and - so many of them say goodbye.
Dylan was loved by every boyfriend I had of the 70s and 80s - but I most indelibly remember my ex husband as he descended into bitter, abusive alcoholism. He used the song Idiot Wind as an anthem of that part of his life as he projected his self hatred on the blank canvas that was meant to be me.
As someone born and raised in the music business, and who had a music career of my own, I can attest that "Bob Dylan Syndrome" is in fact ongoing in popular music. At this point I find it a thumping bore, but I recognize that it has an effect on women's voices, literally and figuratively. So don't ever stop, Laurie! The more you don't shut up the more we all feel safe to speak out.
I have never never felt that Bob Dylan was writing songs for me in any way. I hated him. Now, confession time: his album Nashville Skyline got to me. I loved it. Not because of him -- just the melodies and the duet with Johnny Cash. Still, every time I saw his face, I wanted to barf. That, I know, does not pass for social criticism, literary criticism or any kind of scholarly criticism.
I remember as a teenager always "rushing the season", which is a turn of phrase I haven't thought of in years. In September I'd always break out my sweaters way too early because I was overeager to get to proper fall. In March, when it was still often cold and grey, I'd end up wearing sundresses, with a mix of aspiration and defiance. I always wanted to get to the next thing. For me, this was a function of youth, always rushing and rushing, thinking the next place would be better somehow. Now that I am old(ish) I'm mostly glad to just be wherever I am and have given up any hope of controlling the future, via aspiration, defiance, or otherwise. Though it's also true that I gave up on seasonal wardrobes years ago. Certainly the act of packing things away until the time they are "appropriate." Who has that much closet space, for god's sakes? I wear what I like, seasons be damned.
This post made tears sting in my old eyes. "Fuck me. I'm an idiot." You mean to say I'm not the only one whacking myself upside the head for not "getting" what was really going on when I was younger?
See me over here with the pompoms and the super short skirt I shouldn't be wearing at my age? That's me cheering you on.
The next time I come across "Other" as a sex identity I think I'll give them some juicy details too. Brilliant.
I love the directness of this, the bam! pow! yow! of it. Laurie, your writing woke me up, and now I'm sitting without a slouch, standing with both feet planted--thank you!
Congratulations! Have fun at the ceremony. There may not be cake. I love Leonard when. I love Neko Case. Fuck PEN. What do they for is it it? know? No?
THANK YOU! I have entire songs about this! The sheer shittiness of Dylan's disregard even when he's showing "reverence." Who asked to be your muse, bitch!? I love his music so, but his near-sighted condescension wounds deeply.
Whatever you do, Laurie Stone, do not shut up!
Thanks for this writing. Recently as I was leaving my sister and brother in love after a memorable visit I played Leonard Cohen for us while I rushed to get dressed. I kept the music playing when I got in the Uber with a young Arab cab driver, who loved the introduction to his music as we drove through the dark Los Angeles streets. Leonard's songs are addressed to us - and - so many of them say goodbye.
Dylan was loved by every boyfriend I had of the 70s and 80s - but I most indelibly remember my ex husband as he descended into bitter, abusive alcoholism. He used the song Idiot Wind as an anthem of that part of his life as he projected his self hatred on the blank canvas that was meant to be me.
I so much agree with your assessment.
Warmest regards
Jennie
As someone born and raised in the music business, and who had a music career of my own, I can attest that "Bob Dylan Syndrome" is in fact ongoing in popular music. At this point I find it a thumping bore, but I recognize that it has an effect on women's voices, literally and figuratively. So don't ever stop, Laurie! The more you don't shut up the more we all feel safe to speak out.
"How many ways are there to tell a woman to shut up because you think no harm will come to you?" THIS. Thank you for not shutting up!
I have never never felt that Bob Dylan was writing songs for me in any way. I hated him. Now, confession time: his album Nashville Skyline got to me. I loved it. Not because of him -- just the melodies and the duet with Johnny Cash. Still, every time I saw his face, I wanted to barf. That, I know, does not pass for social criticism, literary criticism or any kind of scholarly criticism.
I remember as a teenager always "rushing the season", which is a turn of phrase I haven't thought of in years. In September I'd always break out my sweaters way too early because I was overeager to get to proper fall. In March, when it was still often cold and grey, I'd end up wearing sundresses, with a mix of aspiration and defiance. I always wanted to get to the next thing. For me, this was a function of youth, always rushing and rushing, thinking the next place would be better somehow. Now that I am old(ish) I'm mostly glad to just be wherever I am and have given up any hope of controlling the future, via aspiration, defiance, or otherwise. Though it's also true that I gave up on seasonal wardrobes years ago. Certainly the act of packing things away until the time they are "appropriate." Who has that much closet space, for god's sakes? I wear what I like, seasons be damned.
This post made tears sting in my old eyes. "Fuck me. I'm an idiot." You mean to say I'm not the only one whacking myself upside the head for not "getting" what was really going on when I was younger?
See me over here with the pompoms and the super short skirt I shouldn't be wearing at my age? That's me cheering you on.
The next time I come across "Other" as a sex identity I think I'll give them some juicy details too. Brilliant.
I love the directness of this, the bam! pow! yow! of it. Laurie, your writing woke me up, and now I'm sitting without a slouch, standing with both feet planted--thank you!
I LOVE this, and the Cohen essay. Oh my god.
Something larger than me that also included me. Thanks for helping me figure out what I want from life. And I’m only 49!
Congratulations! Have fun at the ceremony. There may not be cake. I love Leonard when. I love Neko Case. Fuck PEN. What do they for is it it? know? No?
"The weeks between the two announcements were pot that doesn’t make you paranoid."
i love the way you write.
I love the way you write. When you pop up in my email, I know I have something to look forward to reading later.
I once had a dream some nuns didn't trust Bob Dylan. I loved your essay in TPR and I love your writing!
Beautiful essay and congrats Laurie! I loved every word of this.