14 October 19 Bob Dylan

Ever since he entered the national consciousness as the "voice of his generation" in the '60s, Bob Dylan has been hailed as a poet. Unlike most other galvanizing figures in pop culture, even his detractors acknowledge the beauty of his lyricism. After all, some variation on "he's a great writer, but I can't stand his voice" has been repeated like a mantra by non-fans for decades now.

But if there were any lingering doubt that Dylan's work rises above the realm of rock/pop songwriting and into the rarified atmosphere of poetry that rewards academic discourse, that should be put to rest with news that Bob Dylan was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature making him the first American to claim that honor since Toni Morrison in 1993.

He started life in Hibbing, Minnesota. Now, it is believed that he lives primarily in Point Dume near Malibu, California; however, he owns property around the world. Hibbing? The world?

Bob Dylan, born Robert Allen Zimmerman on 24 May 1941, is perhaps the major figure in music and popular culture for over fifty years. His genres cover a wide range including folk, blues, rock, gospel, and country. For our purposes, however, his stellar achievement was his receipt of the Nobel Prize in Literature in 2016. He is the first musician to win the award. Referring to his selection for the award, The New York Times stated, “. . . his selection . . . is perhaps the most radical choice in a history stretching back to 1901.”

The Nobel Prize committee spoke of their award decision as merited by Dylan’s “. . .  having created new poetic expressions within the great American song tradition.” On the other hand, the Committee was miffed that Dylan; a member of the Committee called him, “impolite and arrogant” for Dylan’s failure to respond to the Committee’s attempts to contact him. However, after two weeks, Dylan went public, saying about the award, it was “ . . . amazing, incredible. Whoever dreams about something like that?” The ball took another curve when Dylan said he would not travel to Stockholm due to “pre-existing commitments.” And another flip: Dylan met privately with twelve members of the Committee to receive his medal and diploma. No media were present.

Bringing the tone down a bit, Joan Baez, with whom Dylan had a romantic relationship, once said, on hearing him perform “With God on Our Side,” that she, “ . . . never thought anything so powerful could come out of that little toad.”

Although Dylan’s poetic talents have been thoroughly lauded, in his Nobel speech, he said, "Our songs are alive in the land of the living. But songs are unlike literature. They're meant to be sung, not read. The words in Shakespeare's plays were meant to be acted on the stage. Just as lyrics in songs are meant to be sung, not read on a page. And I hope some of you get the chance to listen to these lyrics the way they were intended to be heard: in concert or on record or however people are listening to songs these days. I return once again to Homer, who says, 'Sing in me, oh Muse, and through me tell the story'." 

Take that, you poets!

Below the Explorations, are lyrics from some of his dozens and dozens of songs. You can decide for yourself if the man is a poet, a warbler, or some combination with a dash of Homer mixed in.

Exploration 1: Does Bob Dylan deserve the Nobel Prize in Literature?

Exploration 2: Dylan cited three books as having the most influence on him: Moby Dick, All Quiet on the Western Front, and The Odyssey. From what you know of him (other than this post), why do you think he chose these three in the context of his art and music?

Exploration 3: What do you think of Dylan’s iterations with the Nobel Prize Committee?

"Man Of Constant Sorrow" album: "Bob Dylan" (1962)

I am a man of constant sorrow
I've seen trouble all my days
I'll say goodbye to Colorado
Where I was born and partly raised

Your mother says that I'm a stranger
A face you'll never see no more
But here's one promise to ya
I'll see you on God's golden shore

Through this open world I'm a-bound to ramble
Through ice and snow, sleet and rain
Im a-bound to ride that mornin' railroad
Perhaps I'll die upon that train

I'm a-goin' back to Colorado
The place that I've started from
If I'd knowed how bad you'd treat me
Babe, I never would have come

"House Of The Risin' Sun"  album: "Bob Dylan" (1962)

There is a house down in New Orleans they call the rising sun
And it's been the ruin of many a poor girl and me, oh God, I'm one

My mother was a tailor, she sewed these new blue jeans
My sweetheart was a gambler, Lord, down in New Orleans

Now the only thing a gambler needs is a suitcase and a trunk
And the only time when he's satisfied is when he's on a drunk

He fills his glasses up to the brim and he'll pass the cards around
And the only pleasure he gets out of life is rambling from town to town

Oh tell my baby sister not to do what I have done
But shun that house in New Orleans they call the rising sun

Well with one foot on the platform and the other foot on the train
I'm going back to New Orleans to wear that ball and chain

I'm going back to New Orleans, my race is almost run
I'm going back to end my life down in the rising sun

There is a house in New Orleans they call the rising sun
And it's been the ruin of many a poor girl and me, oh God, I'm one

"Blowin' In The Wind"    album: "The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan" (1963)

How many roads must a man walk down
Before you call him a man?
How many seas must a white dove sail
Before she sleeps in the sand?
Yes, and how many times must the cannonballs fly
Before they're forever banned?

The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind
The answer is blowin' in the wind

Yes, and how many years can a mountain exist
Before it's washed to the sea?
Yes, and how many years can some people exist
Before they're allowed to be free?
Yes, and how many times can a man turn his head
And pretend that he just doesn't see?

The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind
The answer is blowin' in the wind

Yes, and how many times must a man look up
Before he can see the sky?
Yes, and how many ears must one man have
Before he can hear people cry?
Yes, and how many deaths will it take 'til he knows
That too many people have died?

The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind
The answer is blowin' in the wind

album: "The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan" (1963)

"Masters Of War"

Come you masters of war
You that build all the guns
You that build the death planes
You that build all the bombs
You that hide behind walls
You that hide behind desks
I just want you to know
I can see through your masks

You that never done nothin'
But build to destroy
You play with my world
Like it's your little toy
You put a gun in my hand
And you hide from my eyes
And you turn and run farther
When the fast bullets fly

Like Judas of old
You lie and deceive
A world war can be won
You want me to believe
But I see through your eyes
And I see through your brain
Like I see through the water
That runs down my drain

You fasten all the triggers
For the others to fire
Then you set back and watch
When the death count gets higher
You hide in your mansion'
As young people's blood
Flows out of their bodies
And is buried in the mud

You've thrown the worst fear
That can ever be hurled
Fear to bring children
Into the world
For threatening my baby
Unborn and unnamed
You ain't worth the blood
That runs in your veins

How much do I know
To talk out of turn
You might say that I'm young
You might say I'm unlearned
But there's one thing I know
Though I'm younger than you
That even Jesus would never
Forgive what you do

Let me ask you one question
Is your money that good
Will it buy you forgiveness
Do you think that it could
I think you will find
When your death takes its toll
All the money you made
Will never buy back your soul

And I hope that you die
And your death'll come soon
I will follow your casket
In the pale afternoon
And I'll watch while you're lowered
Down to your deathbed
And I'll stand over your grave
'Til I'm sure that you're dead

"Where Is The One"      album: "Triplicate" (2017)

Where is the one
Who'll end the search I'm making
Where is the one
Who'll change my dream to waking
Behind some far off secret door
There's my love
There's my life
In store

The journey's long
Much longer than I reckoned
In any throng
I'll know her in a second
Some lucky day
I'm bound to find her
And when I do
I'll find love

The journey's long
Much longer than I reckoned
In any throng
I'll know her in a second
Some lucky day
I'm bound to find her
And when I do
I'll find love

"September Of My Years"                       album: "Triplicate" (2017)

One day you turn around and it's summer
Next day you turn around and it's fall
And the springs and the winters of a lifetime
Whatever happened to them all?

As a man who has always had the wand'ring ways
Now I'm reaching back for yesterdays
'Til a long-forgotten love appears
And I find that I'm sighing softly as I near
September, the warm September of my years

As I man who has never paused at wishing wells
Now I'm watching children's carousels
And their laughter's music to my ears
And I find that I'm smiling gently as I near
September, the warm September of my years

The golden warm September of my years