Date: 08/16/96

Subject of the Post: Homosexual References?

craig quotes Jason Sandlin ([email protected]) :

I was paging through Bob Dylan Whos' Who (http://bob.nbr.no /dok/who/who.html) and saw that Mr. Jones's search. My view is that Mr. Jones is a normal citizen maybe even married but has thoughts of homosexuality and somehow ends up in a exotic gay strip club, where he can't believe what is happening and pencil=penis. basically he has entered a exotic gay strip bar/club where they are doing all of these weird acts of sexuality and he wonders what's happening, and how he is going to deal with this.

he walks up to Mr. Jones when he hears Mr. Jones speak maybe because Mr. Jones sounds gay and he asks how does it feel to be "a freak" or gay and replies "impossible" because Mr. Jones doesn't think he is - at least not at the level of flaunting that these people in this club are. for me this is a key verse since it says "you have many contacts among the lumberjacks" or 'straight'/'manly' people, "when someone attacks your imagination", like these people are doing in this strip club.

craig writes:

Here I do disagree, the lumberjacks are surely gay men! (They are) The gay men he got his information on the gay scene from, and imagined what went on based on this, now he is seeing the reality and is finding it difficult to take in. Liberal interest and theory has met raw practice head on! I imagine Mr. Jones pontificating about the gay scene and irritating those who know it with his second hand knowledge. That lack of experience is being seen to.

You have many contacts among the gay men you know, and you use them as your informants when your liberal second hand theories based on what you imagine to be the case come under attack.

craig quotes Jason Sandlin ([email protected]) again :

Well, the sword swallower, he comes up to you

just use your imagination for this one. its pretty clear to me that he is in a gay strip club.

Now you see this one-eyed midget

one-eyed midget - a penis more than likely. again use your imagination.

You should be made
To wear earphones

the lasts lines are what Dylan is famous for - incredible lyrics. Mr. Jones thinks that society should "protect" him from places like this, and he shouldn't be allowed to even be exposed to this.

overall I think its a great piece of work by Dylan as usual and the lessons from it can be applied to any type of situation.

craig writes:

Let's imagine the images:

With your pencil in your hand
You try so hard
You raise up your head
As he hands you a bone
Among the lumberjacks

Have you seen lumberjacks on CBC television? Might I recommend Quest!

(incomprehensable comments deleted here)

Well, the sword swallower, he comes up to you And he says, "Here is your throat back

Welll any deep meanings come to mind here? ;-)

Now you see this one-eyed midget
Give me some milk
Because something is happening
And you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

Whooaah...

And the variants, a good test for questionable interpretations, if Dylan can happily sing a variant that ruins an interpretation of a song, then you feel on less solid ground.

He tells you how it feels
And says, "Here is your mouth back
Thank you for the loan."

And you say, "Oh, good God, what does that mean?" And he screams back, "You're a cow
Give me some milk
Or else go home."
Yes, and you really know something is happening And you've got to find out what it is
Don't you, Mister Jones?

You should be made
To be wearing for all times a telephone.

You slip in a side door
And Say, "Is this where it is?"
And somebody points his finger at you and says "It's his."
Next time you remember
To bring some earphones

Earphones, telephones, you like your experiences safe and second hand, no live music for you, no real physical contact, you prefer to distance yourself.

You are full of, what is the word, oh yes... theories. Leprosy? Oh yes you have theories on that. But have you met a leper? Been to a colony or hospital? Had leprosy? Nooooo, you read about it? Crime, theft? Have you stolen anything? Been in prison? Noooo, but you've read about it and discussed it over cocktails with eminent lawyers. Eminent professors and other educated people are very impressed by your theories. Now you're at a real party. But are you really attending or is your style that of The Great Gatsby?

(F. Scott Fitzgerald, a Minnesota boy with a taste for drink and a rough ride from the critics...)

Mr Jones the concert critic, Mr Jones the man trying to investigate gay sexuality, and of course Mr Jones the song and dance man singing about all and sundry but questioning if it is really all so superficial, imagining the experiences of others, while not brave enough to delve into anything himself, wholly and totally...

Craig

--

He got a brother named James, don't forget faces and names Sunken cheeks and his blood is mixed
He looks straight into the sun and says "Revenge is mine" But he drinks, and drinks can be fixed.
Sing me one more song about your "love me to the morning, stranger" And your fall by the sword love
affair with Errol Flynn
In these times of compassion when conformity's in fashion
Say one more stupid thing to me before the final nail is driven in.

Date: 02/26/97

Subject of the Post: Blow-Jobs Anyone!

In article <[email protected]>,
Ron Chester wrote:
snip

Well when we got to the end, this nicely dressed woman who had borrowed my book asked him to talk a little bit more about Thin Man, saying she didn't understand it at all (life imitating art, Mrs Jones?). So he quite happily went through the verses again, line by line: "What's a sword swallower? A guy who swallows swords-- maybe somebody who does sex on a man. This is the way I read it... As we'd say in 1965, a 'fag' or something like that... He's clearly giving this guy a blow job... That's the way I see it. I might be dead wrong about that... [then re: one-eyed midget] clearly a phallus, possibly, right?"

snip the rest of a very long post....

sadiejane wrote:

and before ya know it there are about a gizillian posts on RMD with the title: DYLAN AND HOMOSEXUALITY

[EDITOR'S NOTE]A rather long rant concerning people who don't like to read about blow jobs on RMD was deleted here....

ok. So I went and opened the lyric book - I *love* BOATM, could it possibly be a commentary on homosexuality?

Well, the sword swallower, he comes up to you
And then he kneels,
He crosses himself
And then he clicks his high heels
And without further notice
He asks you how it feels
And he says, "Here is your throat back,
Thanks for the loan"

Sure, I agree that the reference is to a blow-job but, IMO, it's not about sexuality per se. In the context of the whole song - The song being a litany of social situations where "something is happening but you don't know what it is"

So you think you're going to get blown - but instead, the person blowing you tells you that he was really just USING you for his own pleasure. (here's your throat back, thanks for the loan) The blower becomes really the blowee!!!

What was going to be a moment of intense personal gratification becomes yet another embarrasing moment where it looks like YOU got screwed!

What is Dylan talking about? Is he talking about sexual indentification? Or something...more.....{{{{{{profound}}}}}}

come to think of it, I think something like this once happened to me - at least I think it did...and I don't even have a penis ;+}

xx
sadiejane

Delia ain't dead, she's been stiffed......

Subject of the Post: Relation to Times They Are A'Changin'

Date Added: 02/14/1998

Stephen Tomkins wrote:

Oh yes, I remember now, I was going to share my pet theory on Ballad of a Thin Man, hence the heading. I don't know if this is the kind of thing you discuss here, or if you just exchange useful information like lists of favourite songs, or on the other hand whether you've heard it all before, but anyhow, this is how the song works for me.

Mr j comes across all these weird, surreal situations, which he doesn't understand. Except in the most part there's nothing particularly surreal or incredible about them, is there? A naked man in a room, someone pointing & saying "It's his". And there's nothing really incomprehensible about seeing, or being insulted by, a one-eyed midget, a sword swallower or a geek, if you're in the right place at the right time.

And yet the song does give the impression of being a chain of surreal scenes. There are two reasons:

1) This is a rock n roll song, and so is supposed to be about cars and I love you and you love me and lets raise a happy family on the banks of Italy. The contrast between this rock&roll song-type and the stuff in this song about lepers and lumberjacks makes them seem out of place and unreal. (It's like his comment about his songs being no more incomprehensible than pornographic ashtrays & wet chairs. There's nothing unreal or incomprehensible about these things, but they can phase us because we're not expecting them in this context.)

2) We don't have enough inforamtion. Who is Mr J? Where is he? What is he doing there? What kind of person is he? Who are these people? What relationship does he have with them? what do they know about him? Answers to these questions would presumably explain these situations, but we don't have the information, so they seem bizarre & inexplicable.

The point is that this puts us in the same position as Mr J himself. He comes across all these new situations, but he finds himself an outsider, he doesn't have enough information to make sense of what he sees, and since he's clearly expecting something v different and rather more conservative, he's confused. ('You don't understand', 'you don't know what it is [that's happening]', 'you ask, is this where it is?', 'you say, Oh my God, am I here all alone?', 'you say, impossible', 'you say, for what reason?', 'you say, what does this mean?'.)

The great thing about the song is that Dylan shows & explains to you the listener no more than to Mr J, so you are also an outsider, you also are looking in on something you don't know about & don't understand, and are probably confused by. As I said, you are in the same position as Mr J himself.

It's a song telling you that you are an outsider, and making you feel it. In fact, the subject/message of the song is precisely the same as Times Changin, which told a list of people they were outsiders of the glorious new world that was coming, and to join in or get out of the way. Thin Man does it much better though, I think, because instead of simply telling you you're an outsider, it makes you feel the truth of it, & while Times Changin simply say 'you don't understand', Thin Man, while repeating the words, also makes you say yourself 'I don't understand'.

But since Times Changin, Dylan had got himself some new enemies. On top of those who wouldn't understand or accept his new world, there were those who wouldn't understand or accept his new music. The song shows you this sad Mr J character who can't understand or accept what he sees & hears because it's so different what he expected; and it also puts you in the same position, because you also don't understand these scenes because they're not what you expect to hear in a rock song.

In fact I think half the 'you's in the song are directed at you the listener, every bit as much as at the character in the song. But at the same time it offers you the choice of whether you're going to reject what you don't understand, or accept it and enjoy the ride. And it's not just directed at those who despise his music, but also at those who over-earnestly study and demand interpretations of his songs, who sit at their record decks searching the song with pencil in hand saying "who is that man?... what does this mean?" Hmmm. Good point to stop and go & do some work, I think. Should be made to wear earphones.

Subject of the Post: Who Is Mr. Jones

Date Added: 09/16/1998

Alec wrote:

I've always been under the impression that this song (Ballad of a Thin Man)
was written with Brian Jones of the Rolling Stones in mind.
Indeed I saw an interview on tv many years ago where it was said that Brian
really took this song really badly and in some way it contributed to his
suicide.

Is this generally accepted these days?

I can't remember the programme or the person who made the claim, but it was
somebody who was around at the time (Chas Chandler?) and it was some kind
of documentary...possibly about the Stones.
Any ideas/comments?

Jeffrey Jones of the Village Voice, who attended Newport 65 and wrote a
critical review of Bob's going electric, is thought by many to be the target.
Jones himself certainly felt this, and Bob confirmed it in 1978 (I think) when
he introduced the song as having been written for a reporter on the Village
Voice. That having been said, the song is much wider in scope, although
this seems to have been the motive that started Bob writing this one...

There are many interpretations of the song, and some are collected at

http://www.edlis.org/twice/

Look for the Index of Compiled Threads and select Ballad Of A Thin Man.

Subject of the Post: Corso Influence

Date Added: 05/24/2000

nate wrote:

               Marriage    - Gregory Corso, from the 1960 New Directions
                             collection called The Happy Birthday of Death

 Should I get married?  Should I be good?
 Astound the girl next door with my velvet suit and faustus hood?
 Don't take her to movies but cemeteries
 tell all about werewolf bathtubs and forked clarinets
 then desire her and kiss her and all the preliminaries
 and she going just so far and I understanding why
 not getting angry saying You must feel!  It's beautiful to feel!
 Instead take her in my arms lean against an old crooked tombstone
 and woo her the entire night the constellations in the sky --

 When she introduces me to her parents
 back straightened, hair finally combed, strangled by a tie,
 should I sit knees together on their 3rd degree sofa
 and not ask Where's the bathroom?
 How else to feel other than I am,
 often thinking Flash Gordon soap --
 O how terrible it must be for a young man
 seated before a family and the family thinking
 We never saw him before!  He wants our Mary Lou!                       *1
 After tea and homemade cookies they ask What do you do for a living?

 Should I tell them?  Would they like me then?
 Say All right get married, we're losing a daughter
 but we're gaining a son --
 And then should I ask Where's the bathroom?

 O God, and the wedding!  All her family and her friends
 and only a handful of mine all scroungy and bearded
 just waiting  to get at the drinks and food --
 And the priest!  he looking at me as if I masterbated
 asking me Do you take this woman for your lawful wedded wife?
 And I trembling what to say say Pie Glue!
 I kiss the bride all those corny men slapping me on the back
 She's all yours, boy! Ha-ha-ha!
 And in their eyes you could see some obscene honeymoon going on --

 Then all that absurd rice and clanky cans and shoes
 Niagara Falls!  Hordes of us!  Husbands!  Wives!  Flowers!  Chocolates!

 All streaming into cozy hotels
 All going to do the same thing tonight
 The indifferent clerk he knowing what was going to happen
 The lobby zombies they knowing what
 The whistling elevator man he knowing
 The winking bellboy knowing
 Everybody knowing!  I'd almost be inclined not to do anything!
 Stay up all night!  Stare that hotel clerk in the eye!
 Screaming:  I deny honeymoon!  I deny honeymoon!
 running rampant into those almost climactic suites
 yelling Radio belly!  Cat shovel!
 O I'd live in Niagara forever! in a dark cave beneath the Falls
 I'd sit there the Mad Honeymooner
 devising ways to break marriages, a scourge of bigamy
 a saint of divorce --

 But I should get married I should be good
 How nice it'd be to come home to her
 and sit by the fireplace and she in the kitchen
 aproned young and lovely wanting my baby
 and so happy about me she burns the roast beef
 and comes crying to me and I get up from my big papa chair
 saying Christmas teeth!  Radiant brains!  Apple deaf!
 God what a husband I'd make!  Yes, I should get married!
 So much to do! like sneaking into Mr Jones' house late at night        *2
 and cover his golf clubs with 1920 Norwegian books
 Like hanging a picture of Rimbaud on the lawnmower                     *3
 like pasting Tannu Tuva postage stamps all over the picket fence
 like when Mrs Kindhead comes to collect for the Community Chest
 grab her and tell her There are unfavorable omens in the sky!          *4
 And when the mayor comes to get my vote tell him
 When are you going to stop people killing the whales!
 And when the milkman comes leave him a note in the bottle
 Penguin dust, bring me penguin dust, I want penguin dust --

 Yet if I should get married and it's Connecticut and snow
 and she gives birth to a child and I am sleepless, worn,
 up for nights, head bowed against a quiet window, the past behind me,
 finding myself in the most common of situations a trembling man
 knowledged with responsibility not twig-smear nor Roman coin soup --

 O what would that be like!
 Surely I'd give it for a nipple a rubber Tacitus
 For a rattle a bag of broken Bach records
 Tack Della Francesca all over its crib
 Sew the Greek alphabet on its crib
 And build for its playpen a roofless Parthenon

 No, I doubt I'd be that kind of father
 not rural not snow no quiet window
 but hot smelly tight New York City
 seven flights up, roaches and rats in the walls
 a fat Reichian wife screeching over potatoes Get a job!
 And five nose running brats in love with Batman
 And neighbors all toothless and dry haired
 like those hag masses of the 18th century
 all wanting to come in and watch TV
 The Landlord wants his rent
 Grocery store Blue Cross Gas & Electric Knight of Columbus
 Impossible to lie back and dream Telephone snow, ghost parking --
 No!  I should not get married I should never get married!
 But - imagine If I were married to a beautiful sophisticated woman
 tall and pale wearing an elegant black dress and long black gloves
 holding a cigarette holder in one hand and a highball in the other
 and we lived high up in a penthouse with a huge window
 from which we could see all of New York and ever farther on clearer days
 No, can't imagine myself married to that pleasant prison dream --

 O but what about love?  I forget love
 not that I am incapable of love
 it's just that I see love as odd as wearing shoes --
 I never wanted tmarry a girl who was like my mother
 And Ingrid Bergman was always impossible
 And there's maybe a girl now but she's already married,
 And I dont like men and --
 but there's got to be somebody!
 Because what if I'm 60 years old and not married,
 all alone in a furnished room with pee stains on my underwear
 and everybody else is married!  All the universe married but me!

 Ah, yet well I know that were a woman possible as I am possible
 then marriage would be possible --
 Like SHE in her lonely alien gaud waiting for her Egyptian lover
 so I wait -- bereft of 2,000 years and the bath of life.



*1 note that Corso also brings up the wedding of Mary Lou as
   Dylan will much later in Dignity....
*2, *3 recognize?
*4 vaguely like the fortune telling lady in Desolation Row?






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