33. The Rising - (Bruce Springsteen)

"Come on up for the rising / Come on up lay your hands in mine..."

This is the most deceptively brilliant song I've ever heard.  Musically, it's not Springsteen's strongest.  Not by a longshot.  But lyrically, it may very well be my personal favorite. And from a guy like me who was born and raised in the Garden State? Picking your favorite Springsteen song is like telling one of your kids that you love them more than the rest. So that's saying something.

Let's do today's entry in the form of a guessing game:

Can you figure out what's so special about the narrator of this song before the end of this post?

To help you out, the pertinent clues have been highlighted. And to keep things interesting -- I'll throw in a few lines of smarmy analysis, just to throw you off the scent.

(If you haven't already -- click the video above and give this song a listen BEFORE reading today's entry. Things will make a lot more sense if you have a working knowledge of the piece before reading).

Now then -- let's get to it!

Can't see nothin' in front of me 

Can't see nothin' coming up behind 

I make my way through this darkness 

I can't feel nothing but this chain that binds me

From the sound of it, our story starts off like a typical "lone protagonist sets out on a voyage of self discovery" tale, yes?  Judging from the imagery in the first stanza, the world is a dark and spooky place, and our narrator feels like he's inexplicably tied to some force greater than himself.


Darth Vader: "Yes (deep breaths) The Force is strong with this one..."

Fair enough. Back to the lyrics...

Lost track of how far I've gone 

How far I've gone, how high I've climbed 

On my back's a sixty pound stone 

On my shoulder a half mile line

By the looks of things, our wandering hero has been at this "voyage of self discovery" thing for a while. You can hear it from the grit in his voice: he's a workin' man with that all-American toughness to him -- so we'll forgive the rather generic examples of figurative language. "Heavy" baggage, "long" ropes, "high" climbing -- we've heard these things before. It's not earth-shatteringly original, but it's a Springsteen protagonist: blue collar through and through. So we'll give him the benefit of the doubt.

Moving on to the refrain...

Come on up for the rising 

Come on up, lay your hands in mine 

Come on up for the rising 

Come on up for the rising tonight

Well, so much for that solo voyage for self awareness, eh?  Hmm.  Springsteen's use of the second person pronoun ("your" hands) isn't just an indication that this guy isn't going on this journey alone, it's a flat-out invitation for the listener to come along for the ride.

The plot thickens...

Left the house this morning 

Bells ringing filled the air 

Wearin' the cross of my calling 

On wheels of fire I come rollin' down here

I know, I know -- so we're looking at just another Christian pilgrim chasing the American dream or some other nondescript message along those lines, right?  Not even close. The deeper meaning is simply too good to spoil just yet. But once you figure out what this song is actually about, the very act of re-reading these lines will give you chills. Seriously, it's that well-written.

Now for the freaky lyrics of the bridge:

Spirits above and behind me 

Faces gone, black eyes burnin' bright 

May their precious blood forever bind me 

Lord as I stand before your fiery light

Oooooo -- spooky! Spirits and ghosts flooding the skies! At this point, it's obvious that Springsteen's going a little heavy on "The Waste Land" imagery...


Ghost of T.S. Eliot: Seriously, Bruce -- enough already.

But the deeper meaning is just inches below the spectral surface. Didja' get it yet?  Only one verse to go ...

I see you Mary in the garden 

In the garden of a thousand sighs 

There's holy pictures of our children 

Dancin' in a sky filled with light 

May I feel your arms around me 

May I feel your blood mix with mine 

A dream of life comes to me 

Like a catfish dancin' on the end of the line

If you're keeping score at home, the narrator's story is a sad one since "Mary" is only a "dream of life" now that she's lost somewhere in this "garden of a thousand sighs." Translation: the girl is pushing up daisies.

Epiphany:

"Oh, so he's trying to put together the remains of his life after the death of a loved one!!!"

Gah -- you're ALMOST right. But the final imagery of the song actually reveals a story much deeper, broader, and more tragic than that. It's a classic twist ending -- M. Night Shyamalan style. Wait for it!!!

Sky of blackness and sorrow (a dream of life) 

Sky of love, sky of tears (a dream of life) 

Sky of glory and sadness (a dream of life) 

Sky of mercy, sky of fear (a dream of life)  

Sky of memory and shadow (a dream of life) 

Your burnin' wind fills my arms tonight 

Sky of longing and emptiness (a dream of life) 

Sky of fullness, sky of blessed life (a dream of life)

And this is where your brain explodes from the brilliance of this song. Ladies and gentlemen...

"The Rising."

Here's the recap, Sixth Sense style:

Song Lyric	Corresponding Image
Can't see nothin' in front of me  Can't see nothin' coming up behind  I make my way through this darkness  I can't feel nothing but this chain that binds me	A fireman ascending a rescue ladder into a smoke-filled building, tethered to a fire hose or a safety cable.
On my back's a sixty pound stone  On my shoulder a half mile line	The weight of the fireman's gear and oxygen tanks weighs roughly 60 pounds. Behind him, a safety cable (or fire hose) is anchored to the rescue vehicle
Come on up for the rising  Come on up, lay your hands in mine	The firefighter raises a wounded survivor from the wreckage of the ruined building. (Alternately: he implores fellow citizens to join in the relief efforts.)
Left the house this morning  Bells ringing filled the air  Wearin' the cross of my calling  On wheels of fire I come rollin' down here	The fire fighter left the fire station (affectionately, the "fire house") when the warning bells rang. The "cross of my calling" is not the mark of a Christian -- it's the crest of the fire company, on whose "wheels of fire" (a fire engine) he speeds to the site of the 9/11 attacks.
Spirits above and behind me  Faces gone, black eyes burnin' bright  May their precious blood forever bind me  Lord as I stand before your fiery light	Thousands are dead or wounded. Countless others are covered in heavy, black ash amid the rubble. The fiery light is both metaphorical of the afterlife and painfully literal, as the flames rise from the ruined buildings.
I see you Mary in the garden  In the garden of a thousand sighs  There's holy pictures of our children  Dancin' in a sky filled with light  May I feel your arms around me  May I feel your blood mix with mine  A dream of life comes to me  Like a catfish dancin' on the end of the line	In the days following the terror attacks of Sept. 11, 2001, New York City residents held candlelight vigils. Others posted a sea of homemade signs, photographs and posters and all across the city.  These "holy pictures of our children" with images from happier times prayed for the souls of loved ones and requested information regarding the whereabouts of those lost in the attacks -- "a garden of a thousand sighs."

*Are you viewing this article anywhere besides Blogger? Cool! Click here to check out the music video that's embedded in the original post.

5. Spirit in the Night - (Bruce Springsteen)

"And we danced all night to a soul fairy band / And she kissed me just right like only a lonely angel can."

BRUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCE!

Today, we're talking Bruce Springsteen's “Spirit In the Night” -- a mystical, bluesy song that is equal parts Van Morrison and William Butler Yeats. But first, a quick word or ten on the original source material to which The Boss is referring in his "Spirit in the Night." After all, even a casual Bruce fan could tell you that words like "fairy," "soul," "spirit," "hazy," and "Crazy Janey" aren't exactly staples of the typical, working-man Springsteen concordance.

So what's this all about, then?

"Crazy Janey" is most likely inspired by the "Crazy Jane" poems, a seven poem sequence that W.B. Yeats composed between 1929 and 1932. In them, a spitfire of a free spirit trades barbs with a man of the cloth. He's a holy roller, she's an unrepentant blue-collar rebel.

Got it?

Swell. Now let's jump right into the Springsteen stuff:

“Crazy Janey and the Mission man / Were back in the alley tradin' hands.”

"Crazy Jane," eh? And a "Mission" man (as in, a "Missionary")? Wow. Real subtle there, Bruce. But hey -- at least The Boss isn't trying to hide his source material. Not surprisingly, Springsteen’s remark that the two characters were “trading hands” seems to mirror the structure of Yeats' source material -- you know, where "trading hands" could mean something along the lines of "going at it in a friendly manner" or "playing a game of "can-you-top-this." 

"So what's the structure of the first three Crazy Jane poems," you ask?

“Crazy Jane and The Bishop” (where Jane expresses her feelings on love toward the clergyman)

“Crazy Jane Reproved” (where the Bishop rebuts Jane’s argument and offers one of his own)

“Crazy Jane on the Day of Judgment” (where Jane lays the smackdown on the bishop in a poem that might as well be titled "The Bishop Reproved”).

Hmm -- so Crazy Jane(y) is "trading hands" with a Mission man... tricksy, right?
Bruce Springsteen: Don't look at me -- I'm (wild and) innocent, I swear!

Actually, that's kind of clever. But before we can get too caught up in the Janey/Bishop drama -- who shows up in Springsteen's song but a "crazy cat" named -- what else but -- "Wild Billy" (of course).

Hmm... first a "Crazy Jane," then a holy roller, and now a wild dude named -- "Billy?"
William Butler Yeats: ... but you can call me Bill.
True story: Yeats' friends actually called him "Willy," and the dude was a certifiably crazy cat (fun fact: the guy practiced all sorts of fringe religions, had an honest-to-goodness monkey gland inserted in his man-parts in a desperate attempt to curb his erectile disfunction, and bought himself a samurai sword and a FREAKING MEDIEVAL TOWER, just for fun).
Thor Ballylee: a real bitch to heat in the winter.

(The more you know)

But getting back to the song: Crazy Janey and our narrator are interrupted as "Wild Billy (Yeats) and his friend G-Man" (more on G-Man momentarily) asks the partygoers to join him for a nighttime shindig down by the lake so they can get their dance on. And by "get their dance on," he wants them to get their dance on like...

Like spirits in the night, in the night
Oh, you don't know what they can do to you
Spirits in the night, in the night
Stand right up, girl, and let it shoot through you

"Stand right up girl and let [the spirits] shoot through you?" You say. Fair enough.
George Hyde Lees Yeats: Wife, author, automatic writer & makeshift portal to alternate dimensions.

It's true.

Remember when we said we'd get back to G-Man in a second? Here we go: George Yeats (yes, that *is* a girl's name, in spite of its obviously MAN-ly, or masculine sound) was Wild Billy's real-life wife. Their marriage was something of a sham (Georgie actually helped arrange numerous extramarital affairs on her hubby's behalf), but they remained pretty close in spite of the charade. (One -- like Springsteen -- might even be more inclined to say that G-Man was more of a "friend" than an actual lover).

But anyway...

The real-life George Yeats actually used to dabble in automatic writing (can't make this stuff up). You know, the type where you "stand right up / and let the sprits shoot through you" -- by holding a pencil and let the dead generations dance around the room and tell you what to write (e.g. -- "hey Will, TAKE OUT THE GARBAGE! The spirits told me so.")

So to recap:

Crazy Janey = Crazy Jane, a.k.a. the awesomeness

Mission Man = The Bishop, with whom Crazy Jane "trades hands"

Wild Billy = William Butler (Yeats)

G-Man = George Yeats, automatic writer

But since Bruce mentioned "Greasy Lake" (you know, the one "about a mile down the dark side of route 88")... here's another fun bit of trivia: W.B. Yeats wrote most of his poems while residing at his pal Lady Gregory’s nearby estate at Coole Park. Coole Park, in turn, was the home to none other than (surprise!) one big-ass lake, which also just so happens to make its way into some of Willy's best-known works. Recounting the distance between his own home and Lady Gregory’s in a poem called “Coole and Ballylee, 1931,” Yeats writes:

Under my window-ledge the waters race,
Otters below and moor-hens on top,Run for a mile undimmed in Heaven’s face
Then darkening through ‘dar’ Raftery’s ‘cellar’ drop,
Run underground, rise in a rocky place
In Coole demesne, and there to finish up
Spread to a lake and drop into a hole.

Suddenly, Springsteen's "Greasy Lake" isn't just any old place: it's Coole friggin' Park. Heck, Bruce describes the locale itself (“lake”), it’s distance (“a mile”), and the winding path one must travel upon to get there (“dark”) in exactly the same words that Yeats had once used.

Pretty cool, yes? Well this is where things get really wild. Because right about now (funk soul brotha'), Springsteen's loveable, blue-collar narrator throws back a few too many, stares Crazy Janey right square in the eyes, and says:

“I think I really dug her ‘cause I was too loose to fake
I said, “I'm hurt,”
She said, “Honey, let me heal you.”

And BAM! Springsteen goes right back into Crazy Jane and the source material we go to close out the song.

(No, literally: "into Crazy Jane" -- get it? Needlessly vulgar, I know.)

But perhaps we shouldn't be all that surprised.

After all, Crazy Jane was a bit of a slut (Yeats' words, not mine). And as her poem sequence draws to a close with stories like "Crazy Jane and Jack the Journeyman," the heroine talks openly about her "wild" love for a character she calls Jack the Journeyman; the kinda rebellious, blue-collar dude who -- not coincidentally -- would have fit perfectly in a song about chasing skirts and slammin' brewskis down on the Asbury Park boardwalk.

Hmm... now where might one find themselves a rebellious, young, blue-collar journeyman at an hour like this?
That'll do, pig. That'll do.

Springsteen doesn't just borrow Yeats' inspiration. Instead? He writes HIMSELF right back into the Crazy Jane source material -- and by the time he's done? He even manages to steal Wild Billy's girl while he's at it.

(Wow --- the *nerve* of this guy!)

Guess that's why they call him "The Boss."