‘Revisiting some (old) lyrics, and a theme, previously posted, perused in one of the blogospheres (I don’t know how many there are) … A different direction emerged while the muse came by. Two fellas, met up in 1953, the elementary school-scene in Queens (N.Y.) became famous in their school play, Alice in Wonderland. One was the White Rabbit (Paul Simon) and the other was the Cheshire Cat (Art Garfunkel). Actually, they did not get famous from their work in the theater, doing Alice in Wonderland. They continued to be bro’s through junior high school and high school. Simon and Garfunkel, their junior year, emerged as “Tom and Jerry” playing some good music. Seriously? Yes. Someone in the recording studio brought up the “Tom and Jerry” thing … and it faded quickly. “Simon and Garfunkle” was the balm, apparently. Eventually, after “The Sound of Silence” which put them on the map, they put together this song, “I Am A Rock”, with the lyrics … here:
” … Gazing from my window to the streets below /
On a freshly fallen silent shroud of snow. / I am a rock, / I am an island.
I’ve built walls / A fortress deep and mighty … “
I really love these lyrics, for quite a few reasons. One of my favorite writing quotes goes like this: “My wife doesn’t understand that when I am staring out the window, I’m actually working.” I agree. Productive? Maybe not, but … still … working. Because a writer is always watching, observing, taking it all in, appreciating (some) details, editing others. A writer would take time to ” … gaze from (his / her) window to the streets below, taking notice of the freshly fallen silent shroud of snow …” And a writer is also aware of how easy it would be to become “a rock … an island”, with “walls, a fortress …” Such imagery.
” … friendship causes pain. / It’s laughter and it’s loving I disdain …”
I believe that some writers struggle with friendship more than others. I actually acknowledge my envy of individuals who don’t seem to struggle at all, ever, with friendships. They seem to be sufficiently charismatic, cool, and people love to be around these individuals. Friendships are sometimes hard, and I do think that such struggles contribute to a writer’s persistence in writing, and reading. And that is why these lyrics, here, resonate for me. And … a question emerges that I pass your way: would you say, on some level, that you “hide” with books? With poetry? And do you have your armor that you protect yourself with?
“I have my books
And my poetry to protect me;
I am shielded in my armor,
Hiding in my room, safe within my womb.
I touch no one and no one touches me.
I am a rock,
I am an island.
And a rock feels no pain;
And an island never cries.”
What is a bit weird is that I really find … asylum … with the spy novels (Thor, Ludlum, etc.) sometimes the Western novels (Johnstone, Lamour), and sometimes the good old mystery-“Who Dunnit”s (Charles Todd, Castle, Craig Johnson). And there is that great line from Shadowlands (movie): “We read to know … we are not alone.”
So, yeah … I was just curious if you guys “hide” … from time to time … in your books, your poetry, your armor.