Patti Smith and a speech by proxy to fill Bob Dylan void at Nobels
Patti Smith and a speech by proxy to fill Bob Dylan void at Nobels
© REUTERS/Dylan Martinez/File Photo Patti Smith performs on the Pyramid stage at Worthy Farm in Somerset during the Glastonbury Festival
Nobel literature laureate Bob Dylan will provide a speech and fellow American singer-songwriter Patti Smith will perform one of his best-known songs in his absence during Stockholm's prize celebrations, the awards body said on Monday.
Smith will perform "A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall" at the Nobel banquet on Dec 10 while Dylan's speech would also be read out at the event, the Nobel Prize organizers said on Twitter.
Dylan said in the wake of being awarded the 8 million Swedish crown ($870,000) prize that he would accept the award but that he would not attend the ceremony in Stockholm.
Local news agency TT said the speech would be read by Swedish Academy member Horace Engdahl.
Other Nobel Prize winners who have not attended the prize ceremony include Britain's Harold Pinter and Elfriede Jelinek of Austria.
(Reporting by Niklas Pollard; Editing by Alistair Scrutton)
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An excellent song to perform at the ceremony - written years ago but in many ways still current. The "Where have you been..." concept was however borrowed from an old ballad. There is one line in the song especially meaningful to me:
"I saw guns and sharp swords in the hands of young children"
An artist client and friend painted a big watercolour illustrating this line. I could not bring it with me, and my son wanted it, so it hangs in his home now.
A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall (Bob Dylan)
Oh, where have you been, my blue-eyed son?
Oh, where have you been, my darling young one?
I've stumbled on the side of twelve misty mountains
I've walked and I've crawled on six crooked highways
I've stepped in the middle of seven sad forests
I've been out in front of a dozen dead oceans
I've been ten thousand miles in the mouth of a graveyard
And it's a hard, and it's a hard, it's a hard, and it's a hard
And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall
Oh, what did you see, my blue-eyed son?
Oh, what did you see, my darling young one?
I saw a newborn baby with wild wolves all around it
I saw a highway of diamonds with nobody on it
I saw a black branch with blood that kept drippin'
I saw a room full of men with their hammers a-bleedin'
I saw a white ladder all covered with water
I saw ten thousand talkers whose tongues were all broken
I saw guns and sharp swords in the hands of young children
And it's a hard, and it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard
And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall
And what did you hear, my blue-eyed son?
And what did you hear, my darling young one?
I heard the sound of a thunder, it roared out a warnin'
Heard the roar of a wave that could drown the whole world
Heard one person starve, I heard many people laughin'
Heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter
Heard the sound of a clown who cried in the alley
And it's a hard, and it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard
And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall
Oh, who did you meet, my blue-eyed son?
Who did you meet, my darling young one?
I met a young child beside a dead pony
I met a white man who walked a black dog
I met a young woman whose body was burning
I met a young girl, she gave me a rainbow
I met one man who was wounded in love
I met another man who was wounded with hatred
And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard
It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall
No interest I see. How about if we all started to sing:
Trump is our leader, we will not be moved. Trump is our leader, we will not be moved. Just like a boat that's sailing on the water, we will not be moved.
My guess would be that there are not many Dylan fans here and we have already had a couple articles about him winning the Nobel prize.
On the bright side, your fart article got some comments, didn't it?
"On the bright side, your fart article got some comments, didn't it?"
I don't know what that's saying for the level of classiness required to attract comments among NT membership.
Buzz, I seeded an article yesterday about the Grammy nominations that did not get a single comment. It happens every day.
John, I always try to comment on your articles, but many new articles are posted when I am sleeping and by the time I'm awake again and back to the computer they are wiped off the Front Page. I used to get up in the middle of the night and go to the computer, but no more on the advice of my doctor. I will look for your Grammy article.
Dear Buzz: You and I can open a store giving away money for those who frequent our articles.
Still not sure that is what the public wants here.
So it goes.
Enoch.
In response to what you said, Enoch, I can only think of saying "Well, someone's got to do it."
"Darkness at the break of noon
Shadows even the silver spoon
The handmade blade, the child's balloon
Eclipses both the sun and moon
To understand you know too soon
There is no sense in trying
As pointed threats, they bluff with scorn
Suicide remarks are torn
From the fool's gold mouthpiece the hollow horn
Plays wasted words, proves to warn
That he not busy being born is busy dying
Temptation's page flies out the door
You follow, find yourself at war
Watch waterfalls of pity roar
You feel to moan but unlike before
You discover that you'd just be one more
Person crying
So don't fear if you hear
A foreign sound to your ear
It's alright, Ma, I'm only sighing
As some warn victory, some downfall
Private reasons great or small
Can be seen in the eyes of those that call
To make all that should be killed to crawl
While others say don't hate nothing at all
Except hatred
Disillusioned words like bullets bark
As human gods aim for their mark
Make everything from toy guns that spark
To flesh-colored Christs that glow in the dark
It's easy to see without looking too far
That not much is really sacred
While preachers preach of evil fates
Teachers teach that knowledge waits
Can lead to hundred-dollar plates
Goodness hides behind its gates
But even the president of the United States
Sometimes must have to stand naked
An' though the rules of the road have been lodged
It's only people's games that you've got to dodge
And it's alright, Ma, I can make it
Advertising signs they con
You into thinking you're the one
That can do what's never been done
That can win what's never been won
Meantime life outside goes on
All around you
You lose yourself, you reappear
You suddenly find you got nothing to fear
Alone you stand with nobody near
When a trembling distant voice, unclear
Startles your sleeping ears to hear
That somebody thinks they really found you
A question in your eyes is lit
Yet you know there is no answer fit
To satisfy, insure you not to quit
To keep it in your mind and not forget
That it is not he or she or them or it
That you belong to
Although the masters make the rules
For the wise men and the fools
I got nothing, Ma, to live up to
For them that must bow down to authority
That they do not respect in any degree
Who despise their jobs, their destinies
Speak jealously of them that are free
Cultivate their flowers to be
Nothing more than something they invest in
While some on principles baptized
To strict party platform ties
Social clubs in drag disguise
Outsiders they can freely criticize
Tell nothing except who to idolize
And then say God bless him
While one who sings with his tongue on fire
Gargles in the rat race choir
Bent out of shape from society's pliers
Cares not to come up any higher
But rather get you down in the hole
That he's in
But I mean no harm nor put fault
On anyone living in a vault
But it's alright, Ma, if I can't please him
Old lady judges watch people in pairs
Limited in sex, they dare
To tell fake morals, insult and stare
While money doesn't talk, it swears
Obscenity, who really cares
Propaganda, all is phony
While them that defend what they cannot see
With a killer's pride, security
It blows the minds most bitterly
For them that think death's honesty
Won't fall upon them naturally
Life sometimes must get lonely
My eyes collide head-on with stuffed
Graveyards, false goals (gods), I scuff
At pettiness which plays so rough
Walk upside-down inside handcuffs
Kick my legs to crash it off
Say okay, I have had enough, what else can you show me?
And if my thought-dreams could be seen
They'd probably put my head in a guillotine
But it's alright, Ma, it's life, and life only"
I read an article recently written by some jerk who thought Dylan was the last person who should have got the Nobel. There really are ignorant assholes in this world. Dylan was the voice of a nation.