No Way, (why could'nt I have had such a cool teach in high school?! I had to read "the long walk home") I am also impressed at the insight of the students...when i was in high school, i knew the song rocked, but didnt fully grasp it until the breakup with my first real love, a year later.
Now, you should hit 'em with the Greatfull Dead. Just to fuck them up. 0_o (kidding)
I, too, can relate the song to a bad break up...but, then again, can't we all?
Matt
Dalai Lama—To say that humility is an essential ingredient in our pursuit of spiritual transformation may seem to be at odds with what I have said about the need for confidence. But there is clearly a distinction to be made between valid confidence or self-esteem, and conceit - which we can describe as an inflated sense of importance, grounded in a false image of self.
No Way, (why could'nt I have had such a cool teach in high school?! I had to read "the long walk home") I am also impressed at the insight of the students...when i was in high school, i knew the song rocked, but didnt fully grasp it until the breakup with my first real love, a year later.
Now, you should hit 'em with the Greatfull Dead. Just to fuck them up. 0_o (kidding)
KosmicJelli and No Blame, : )
Thanks!
Dalai Lama—To say that humility is an essential ingredient in our pursuit of spiritual transformation may seem to be at odds with what I have said about the need for confidence. But there is clearly a distinction to be made between valid confidence or self-esteem, and conceit - which we can describe as an inflated sense of importance, grounded in a false image of self.
My name is Maryland Teacher. I'm a Maryland English Teacher.
On behalf of my three 8th grade classes, we have a story to share.
For the past three years, I have included the lyrics to your song
"Black" as part of my Journey Through Genres unit. Initially, I
introduce "Black" as a poem. In the end of the Journeys Through
Genres unit, I ask the kids if they want to hear "Black" being "read,"
and I play your song. They always seem stunned when they realize that a
song is really nothing more than poetry married to rhythm.
I must admit that teaching "Black" is one of the highlights of my
year, and the kids love it, too. My students actually whined when I
took the lyrics back from them (too much to go over during a 45 minute
block of time). They wanted to know how the "poem" ended: I only
let them examine the song stanza by stanza, and we only got through the
first two stanzas during the first day. Never before have I seen them so
hungry for more. One promising young student even asked for a copy of
the lyrics. As a teacher, those moments are pure gold. It makes me
proud to be an educator.
When we review "Black" we treat it to literary analysis: we go
over Imagery, Metaphor, Mood, Tone, and Symbolism. In addition, we
examine the emotional temperature of the piece. The kids seemed to be
right-on-the-money with respect to the mood of "Black." They both
felt and appreciated the Narrator's pain as he laments the loss of a
loved one.
Here's what we came up with.
Empty canvas and untouched sheets of clay suggest that something is
incomplete in the Narrator's life, contrasting the two aspects of his
life. When she was in his life, the Narrator/artist was able to produce
his work. Now that the relationship is over, he lacks the steam
required to continue his art. The words empty and untouched suggest a
barren, austere emotional climate. They illuminate potential that goes
empty and untouched.
Comparing the Antagonist to the sun suggests that she provides heat,
warmth, and life to the Narrator, the proper "earthen bed" required
to nourish and promote the flower of happiness, growth, and
self-actualization. In short, she was everything to him. She completed
him. This totality can be seen in the fact that the word everything is
repeated several times during the subsequent portions of the song. The
line, "Now the air I tasted and breathed, has taken a turn" sharply
marks Tone. It is the Narrator dropping his mask and speaking directly
to us about how he feels about his loss. Not only was she his sun, she
was the air that sustained him. And with the souring of the
relationship, so sours the air. With the souring of the air comes the
souring of the Narrator. He gasps for breath, choking on his situation.
This slow, emotional suffocation is mute testimony to the honesty of his
pain, his loss, and the slow fragmentation of his security. The
Narrator can no longer breathe without suffering, and every breath
haunts him. The fact that he is required to breathe this sour air is an
ever-present reminder of the Narrator's all-consuming pain.
When we reviewed the lines, "And all I taught her was everything / I
know she gave me all that she wore," a few students echoed some of my
private thoughts. Those lines read as if a young art professor had
fallen in love with one of his students. Several students from
different classes came up with that interpretation. The bitter hands
chafing is testimony to the Narrator rubbing his hands together in a
compulsive attempt to cope with his loss. The "washing" of the
pictures is a metaphor depicting the destruction of what was once a
beautiful relationship. The image of destroying a painting is a
powerful symbol showing how one feels when love decays. The loss of
that loved one feels like the destruction of a beautiful work of art.
The reference to a tattoo suggests that the Narrator's pain is
permanent. The pain is being compared to a tattoo's ink. Even though
that pain will fade/run over time, the Narrator feels that it will
always be there, just like a tattoo.
I feel that, "I take a walk outside / I"m surrounded by some kids
at play / I can feel their laughter, so why do I sear?" is one of the
most powerful lines in literary history. Those words capture the slow
burn endured by those who are haunted by the fading echoes of true love.
It's as if the pain is both amplified by and juxtaposed with the
reminder that everyone around the Narrator has permission to be happy,
yet he is condemned to what he sees as an eternity of suffering,
slow-roasting over the white-hot coals of what was, and taunted by what
will never be. The juxtaposition of beautiful laughter and paralytic
pain eclipses the Narrator's happiness, highlighting his angst all the
more.
The 'twisted thoughts' can be thought of as the manic replaying of
what the Narrator could have done/should have done to salvage the
relationship, second-guessing himself and dooming himself to torturous
self-examination. This self-questioning erodes the Narrator's
stability, leaving him reeling from his efforts.
As the Antagonist is being compared to his sun, the line, "How quick
the sun can drop away" shows a bitter, clipped Tone, capturing the
sarcastic hemorrhage felt by the Narrator. The sun's dropping is
testimony to the fact that the relationship is over. Love's glow has
faded. In her absence, in the sun's absence, the image created is
that of a man trying to scratch out an existence in a bleak word devoid
of warmth, light, love, and hope. Trapped within the scattered ruins of his
own emotional wasteland, the Narrator feels that he is at risk of drying
out and shriveling up. The Narrator identifies with Sisyphus, condemned
to an eternity of rolling his emotional boulder up life's steep inclines.
If the antagonist can be referred to a precious glass statue, then the,
"...bitter hands that cradle broken glass...," shows how the Narrator
cannot heal, despite the end of the relationship. The image created is
that of a masochist who cannot release the sharp fragments of something
that was once dear to him, trapped within a vicious cycle of
self-injury: he holds love's broken pieces, and they lacerate him.
Going against both intuition and friends' sound advice, he hugs it
again, perpetuating the cycle of self-mutilation. The word cradle
suggests that the Narrator will pursue any hope, however fleeting, of
resuscitating the relationship. The fact that the relationship keeps
slicing him is as powerful as it is self-defeating.
When the Narrator's world turns to black, he bears his soul, naked to
the world. He allows the readers a rare glimpse into the true depth of
his woe. This hurt, this emotional tattoo, ruins all that he sees, all
that he is, and all that he will ever be. This pain is symbolized by
the tattoo. His pain is so pervasive that he sees this grief as having
amputated part of his future, pillorying the hope that tomorrow could
have brought.
"Black" ends with a failed coup-de-grace. Unable to admit defeat
and move on, the Narrator cannot shake hands and walk away. While the
Narrator recognizes that the Antagonist will be the star in someone
else's sky, he laments that she will not be the star in his sky,
agonizing over the fact that it wasn't meant to be. "Why can't it
be mine?" eliminates any chance of moving on, uprooting any growth
made towards closure. Buried within the wasteland of his heart, the
Narrator cannot see that he cannot see beyond the immediacy of it all.
"Black" captures all the emptiness, all the ache, and all the doom
felt by most young people when they look back on their clumsy first
attempts at love. It is my opinion that "Black" is one of the most
powerful pieces of poetry in the textbook that is our world.
My 8th grade classes are deeply interested in knowing what inspired
"Black." From where did it come? From what? That, and they
just wanted thank the person who found a voice for those who had
previously suffered in silence.
Loved the interpretation of "Black", one of my favorite PJ songs. My daughter goes to school in Charles Town, WV (10th grade), perhaps you could make the short drive down and teach that unit to her English class. :-)
Manchester, TN - 2008
Washington, D.C. - 2008
Philadelphia, PA I - 2009
Bristow, VA - 2010
Baltimore, MD - 2013
Milwaukee, WI - 2014
Hampton, VA - 2016
for sure vedder is a better writer than Faulkner and boy george than Fedor, thanks it's make my day
Just like in Hollywood, a long time ago they produced movies adapted from great novels, now it's spiderman against the giant sausage man, tomorow they will adapt the happy meal or the next britney spears lyrics it's a worldwide suicide cultural
I am the equivalent of an 8th grader and Black is definetely my favourite PJ song. It is deeply moving to a troubled kid as well as anyone else. I loved this song so much that i tributed it in a poem (using lines and stuff). The poem got three 'merits' (like a reward for gd work), and At parents evening my teacher told my parents it was one of the best pieces of work she had seen. I might post it if i can find it.
P.S Maryland Teacher, you are by far the coolest teacher in existence. I would worship you if you taught me.
for sure vedder is a better writer than Faulkner and boy george than Fedor, thanks it's make my day
Just like in Hollywood, a long time ago they produced movies adapted from great novels, now it's spiderman against the giant sausage man, tomorow they will adapt the happy meal or the next britney spears lyrics it's a worldwide suicide cultural
are you trying to insinuate something?
black is an extraordinary and exceptionally well-written song...
i waited all day.
you waited all day..
but you left before sunset..
...should have stayed for the sunset...
if not for me.
I am the equivalent of an 8th grader and Black is definetely my favourite PJ song. It is deeply moving to a troubled kid as well as anyone else. I loved this song so much that i tributed it in a poem (using lines and stuff). The poem got three 'merits' (like a reward for gd work), and At parents evening my teacher told my parents it was one of the best pieces of work she had seen. I might post it if i can find it.
P.S Maryland Teacher, you are by far the coolest teacher in existence. I would worship you if you taught me.
Thank You, sachinc. : )
Dalai Lama—To say that humility is an essential ingredient in our pursuit of spiritual transformation may seem to be at odds with what I have said about the need for confidence. But there is clearly a distinction to be made between valid confidence or self-esteem, and conceit - which we can describe as an inflated sense of importance, grounded in a false image of self.
are you trying to insinuate something?
black is an extraordinary and exceptionally well-written song...
...it has tremendous power behind it...it's a timeless classic.
Dalai Lama—To say that humility is an essential ingredient in our pursuit of spiritual transformation may seem to be at odds with what I have said about the need for confidence. But there is clearly a distinction to be made between valid confidence or self-esteem, and conceit - which we can describe as an inflated sense of importance, grounded in a false image of self.
I taught high school history for 9+ years. The greatest, most rewarding challenge was making the lessons of "dead guys" tangible to a bunch of teenagers. The moments in which the kids did achieve this personal connection - the "A-HA MOMENT" as we called it - was what made the job so rewarding.
You are doing your students a tremendous service. What you have achieved here is more than just a poetry lesson. You have introduced them to rock and roll, the good side of pop culture and the strength of creativity and self-expression. You are showing them that art - like history - is L I V I N G, and in doing so you have empowered them tremendously.
Keep fighting the good fight, my friend.
ds
"What chance does Gotham have when the good people do nothing?"
So......I have always thought that the lyrics were wrong on this one. I know that the lyrics on this site are not all 100 percent accurate (see In Hiding etc...)
I may be wrong........BUT...I always heard the following......
I take a walk outside, I'm surrounded by, some kids at play, oh I can hear their laughter so I,....DO I SEE HER.....
TO ME>..this has to be correct. He is taking a walk outside, is getting through it all. He sees some kids, is social enough to be in a park etc.... Then, he realizes his surroundings, registers everything and is ABOUT TO SMILe...(I can hear their laughter, so I .........smile, laugh, enjoy something...........then....it all crashes because as he does this, he thinks he sees her......"how quick the sun can, drop away........."
So......I have always thought that the lyrics were wrong on this one. I know that the lyrics on this site are not all 100 percent accurate (see In Hiding etc...)
I may be wrong........BUT...I always heard the following......
I take a walk outside, I'm surrounded by, some kids at play, oh I can hear their laughter so I,....DO I SEE HER.....
TO ME>..this has to be correct. He is taking a walk outside, is getting through it all. He sees some kids, is social enough to be in a park etc.... Then, he realizes his surroundings, registers everything and is ABOUT TO SMILe...(I can hear their laughter, so I .........smile, laugh, enjoy something...........then....it all crashes because as he does this, he thinks he sees her......"how quick the sun can, drop away........."
Sear -
VERB:
seared , sear?ing , sears
VERB:
tr.
To char, scorch, or burn the surface of with or as if with a hot instrument. See Synonyms at burn 1.
To cause to dry up and wither.
VERB:
intr.
To become withered or dried up.
NOUN:
A condition, such as a scar, produced by searing.
None of us operate from a singular motive.
"A lie travels half-way around the world
before the truth can even gets its boots on to get out the door."
I'm glad this has resurfaced, as I haven't been on the message board for years and would have missed it otherwise. I was very moved by your interpretation of Black and would have loved the opportunity to do a similar activity at school.
May I profer an idea? You relate the torture of the narrator (although, I should rather think of him as the Poet-Lover) to the punishment of Sysiphus:
"Trapped within the scattered ruins of his own emotional wasteland, the Narrator feels that he is at risk of drying out and shriveling up. The Narrator identifies with Sisyphus, condemned to an eternity of rolling his emotional boulder up life's steep inclines."
However, I feel that your assessment of his "drying out and shrivelling up" is more akin to the sufferings of Tantalus. I've always regarded Tantalus' torture as maddening, enraging and provoking unimaginably passionate desire, whereas Sisyphus' is more intensely wearisome. I feel I would rather bear Sisyphus' burden than experience Tantalus' enternally raging and frustrated desire.
Along with this classical allusion, your analysis suddenly made me realise how the sentiments of the first part of Black have similarities to the Augustan love poets: they must write because they love and they must love in order to write, but above all they suffer.
Oh dear, it's getting rather late here and I fear I may be losing the plot a bit
I would be most interested to know your thoughts on this.
I'm glad this has resurfaced, as I haven't been on the message board for years and would have missed it otherwise. I was very moved by your interpretation of Black and would have loved the opportunity to do a similar activity at school.
May I profer an idea? You relate the torture of the narrator (although, I should rather think of him as the Poet-Lover) to the punishment of Sysiphus:
"Trapped within the scattered ruins of his own emotional wasteland, the Narrator feels that he is at risk of drying out and shriveling up. The Narrator identifies with Sisyphus, condemned to an eternity of rolling his emotional boulder up life's steep inclines."
However, I feel that your assessment of his "drying out and shrivelling up" is more akin to the sufferings of Tantalus. I've always regarded Tantalus' torture as maddening, enraging and provoking unimaginably passionate desire, whereas Sisyphus' is more intensely wearisome. I feel I would rather bear Sisyphus' burden than experience Tantalus' enternally raging and frustrated desire.
Along with this classical allusion, your analysis suddenly made me realise how the sentiments of the first part of Black have similarities to the Augustan love poets: they must write because they love and they must love in order to write, but above all they suffer.
Oh dear, it's getting rather late here and I fear I may be losing the plot a bit
I would be most interested to know your thoughts on this.
Dalai Lama—To say that humility is an essential ingredient in our pursuit of spiritual transformation may seem to be at odds with what I have said about the need for confidence. But there is clearly a distinction to be made between valid confidence or self-esteem, and conceit - which we can describe as an inflated sense of importance, grounded in a false image of self.
I wish i had teachers like you when i was in highschool Mr. Bruno.
Thank you, zeroenvy. : )
MB
Dalai Lama—To say that humility is an essential ingredient in our pursuit of spiritual transformation may seem to be at odds with what I have said about the need for confidence. But there is clearly a distinction to be made between valid confidence or self-esteem, and conceit - which we can describe as an inflated sense of importance, grounded in a false image of self.
Dalai Lama—To say that humility is an essential ingredient in our pursuit of spiritual transformation may seem to be at odds with what I have said about the need for confidence. But there is clearly a distinction to be made between valid confidence or self-esteem, and conceit - which we can describe as an inflated sense of importance, grounded in a false image of self.
My name is Maryland Teacher. I'm a Maryland English Teacher.
On behalf of my three 8th grade classes, we have a story to share.
For the past three and a half years, I have included the lyrics to your song
"Black" as part of my Journey Through Genres unit. Initially, I
introduce "Black" as a poem. In the end of the Journeys Through
Genres unit, I ask the kids if they want to hear "Black" being "read,"
and I play your song. They always seem stunned when they realize that a
song is really nothing more than poetry married to rhythm.
I must admit that teaching "Black" is one of the highlights of my
year, and the kids love it, too. My students actually whined when I
took the lyrics back from them (too much to go over during a 45 minute
block of time). They wanted to know how the "poem" ended: I only
let them examine the song stanza by stanza, and we only got through the
first two stanzas during the first day. Never before have I seen them so
hungry for more. One promising young student even asked for a copy of
the lyrics. As a teacher, those moments are pure gold. It makes me
proud to be an educator.
When we review "Black," we treat it to literary analysis: we go
over Imagery, Metaphor, Mood, Tone, and Symbolism. In addition, we
examine the emotional temperature of the piece. The kids seemed to be
right-on-the-money with respect to the mood of "Black." They both
felt and appreciated the Narrator's pain as he laments the loss of a
loved one.
Here's what we came up with.
Empty canvas and untouched sheets of clay suggest a void in the Narrator's life, contrasting the two aspects of his life. When she was in his life, the Narrator/artist was able to produce his work. Now that the relationship is over, he lacks the steam
required to continue his art. The words empty and untouched suggest a
barren, austere emotional climate. They illuminate potential that goes
empty and untouched.
Comparing the Antagonist to the sun suggests that she provides heat,
warmth, and life to the Narrator, the proper "earthen bed" required
to nourish and promote the flower of happiness, growth, and
self-actualization. In short, she was everything to him. She completed
him. This totality can be seen in the fact that the word everything is
repeated several times during the subsequent portions of the song. The
line, "Now the air I tasted and breathed, has taken a turn" sharply
marks Tone. It is the Narrator dropping his mask and speaking directly
to us about how he feels about his loss. Not only was she his sun, she
was the air that sustained him. And with the souring of the
relationship, so sours the air. With the souring of the air comes the
souring of the Narrator. He gasps for breath, choking on his situation.
This slow, emotional suffocation is mute testimony to the honesty of his
pain, his loss, and the slow fragmentation of his security. The
Narrator can no longer breathe without suffering, and every breath
haunts him. The fact that he is required to breathe this sour air is an
ever-present reminder of the Narrator's all-consuming pain.
When we reviewed the lines, "And all I taught her was everything / I
know she gave me all that she wore," a few students echoed some of my
private thoughts. Those lines read as if a young art professor had
fallen in love with one of his students. Several students from
different classes came up with that interpretation. The bitter hands
chafing is testimony to the Narrator rubbing his hands together in a
compulsive attempt to cope with his loss. The "washing" of the
pictures is a metaphor depicting the destruction of what was once a
beautiful relationship. The image of destroying a painting is a
powerful symbol showing how one feels when love decays. The loss of
that loved one feels like the destruction of a beautiful work of art.
The reference to a tattoo suggests that the Narrator's pain is
permanent. The pain is being compared to a tattoo's ink. Even though
that pain will fade/run over time, the Narrator feels that it will
always be there, just like a tattoo.
I feel that, "I take a walk outside / I"m surrounded by some kids
at play / I can feel their laughter, so why do I sear?" is one of the
most powerful lines in literary history. Those words capture the slow
burn endured by those who are haunted by the fading echoes of true love.
It's as if the pain is both amplified by and juxtaposed with the
reminder that everyone around the Narrator has permission to be happy,
yet he is condemned to what he sees as an eternity of suffering,
slow-roasting over the white-hot coals of what was, and taunted by what
will never be. The juxtaposition of beautiful laughter and paralytic
pain eclipses the Narrator's happiness, highlighting his angst all the
more.
The 'twisted thoughts' can be thought of as the manic replaying of
what the Narrator could have done/should have done to salvage the
relationship, second-guessing himself and dooming himself to torturous
self-examination. This self-questioning erodes the Narrator's
stability, leaving him reeling from his efforts.
As the Antagonist is being compared to his sun, the line, "How quick
the sun can drop away" shows a bitter, clipped Tone, capturing the
sarcastic hemorrhage felt by the Narrator. The sun's dropping is
testimony to the fact that the relationship is over. Love's glow has
faded. In her absence, in the sun's absence, the image created is
that of a man trying to scratch out an existence in a bleak word devoid
of warmth, light, love, and hope. Trapped within the scattered ruins of his
own emotional wasteland, the Narrator feels that he is at risk of drying
out and shriveling up. The Narrator identifies with Sisyphus, condemned
to an eternity of rolling his emotional boulder up life's steep inclines.
If the antagonist can be referred to a precious glass statue, then the,
"...bitter hands that cradle broken glass...," shows how the Narrator
cannot heal, despite the end of the relationship. The image created is
that of a masochist who cannot release the sharp fragments of something
that was once dear to him, trapped within a vicious cycle of
self-injury: he holds love's broken pieces, and they lacerate him.
Going against both intuition and friends' sound advice, he hugs it
again, perpetuating the cycle of self-mutilation. The word cradle
suggests that the Narrator will pursue any hope, however fleeting, of
resuscitating the relationship. The fact that the relationship keeps
slicing him is as powerful as it is self-defeating.
When the Narrator's world turns to black, he bears his soul, naked to
the world. He allows the readers a rare glimpse into the true depth of
his woe. This hurt, this emotional tattoo, ruins all that he sees, all
that he is, and all that he will ever be. This pain is symbolized by
the tattoo. His pain is so pervasive that he sees this grief as having
amputated part of his future, pillorying the hope that tomorrow could
have brought.
"Black" ends with a failed coup-de-grace. Unable to admit defeat
and move on, the Narrator cannot shake hands and walk away. While the
Narrator recognizes that the Antagonist will be the star in someone
else's sky, he laments that she will not be the star in his sky,
agonizing over the fact that it wasn't meant to be. "Why can't it
be mine?" eliminates any chance of moving on, uprooting any growth
made towards closure. Buried within the wasteland of his heart, the
Narrator cannot see that he cannot see beyond the immediacy of it all.
"Black" captures all the emptiness, all the ache, and all the doom
felt by most young people when they look back on their clumsy first
attempts at love. It is my opinion that "Black" is one of the most
powerful pieces of poetry in the textbook that is our world.
My 8th grade classes are deeply interested in knowing what inspired
"Black." From where did it come? From what? That, and they
just wanted thank the person who found a voice for those who had
previously suffered in silence.
MY RESPECT IS THE SMALLEST THING TO FEEL FOR YOU..YOU ARE A GREAT PERSON AND AN INTRESTING TEACHER,,
"...Dimitri...He talks to me...'.."The Ghost of Greece..".
"..That's One Happy Fuckin Ghost.."
“..That came up on the Pillow Case...This is for the Greek, With Our Apologies.....”
Wow! This is the first time I've checked Words and Music....Communication in god knows when!
It's a great place to discuss lyrics and I don't know why I never joined here...but I've found a few great threads where people are having good discussion on songs I love! Ah... time is so precious, though.
Anyway, Mr. Maryland, I remember posting here when it was on the Porch two years ago!
Good to see you still teaching, considering the economy and it's great to see you still inspired to teach kids poetry!
I'm thrilled that Ed responded and it made your day - and also for the kids who wanted to hear from him.
I do vaguely remember saying in a post I said here that it only takes ONE person to make a difference... and I was also lucky to have that - my mother.
Keep on teaching, Matt!!
Peace...
JA: Why do I get the Ticketmaster question?
EV: It's your band.
~Q Magazine
"Kisses for the glow...kisses for the lease." - BDRII
Not today Sir, Probably not tomorrow.............................................. bayfront arena st. pete '94
you're finally here and I'm a mess................................................... nationwide arena columbus '10
memories like fingerprints are slowly raising.................................... first niagara center buffalo '13
another man ..... moved by sleight of hand...................................... joe louis arena detroit '14
Man, I'm way behind and two years late, but I just wanted to say that this is really cool and you were definitely NOT one of the teachers at any school I ever went to!
Of the thousands of breakup songs there are, NONE come close to the profoundness of "Black".
"and now my bitter hands, cradle broken glass, of what was everything" in and of itself make all other "breakup" songs sound like happy bubblegum (with the exception of "Here comes the Rain" by the Grateful Dead--but THAT still isn't even in the ballpark).
Although I have enjoyed all of Pearl Jam's hits, it wasn't until I borrowed Yield and Riot Act from the library about 3 or four years ago that I have found I am PRETTY SURE I have listened to anything but Pearl Jam since. The lyrical profoundness of Pearl Jam's songs is, well, look what your class has done with it. You Know!
Don't ask me how I stumbed across this, because is was cosmic--go ahead LAUGH--but there are ERIE :shock: connections between Pearl Jam lyrics and the teachings of St. Augustine and other theologians--and "religious" I'm not. Those connections shouldn't be pointed out by me though. Takes the fun out of it.
Diane
I am sure I can dance harder to "Black" than "Do the Evolution"
If you were my teacher it would've totally rocked. I've listened to Pearl Jam and have been a committed fan of Pearl Jam for 18 years, and NEVER have I had the chance to experience analysis of PJ lyrics. That's what learning is all about- figuring out our souls and interpreting lyrics and music freely.
Comments
I, too, can relate the song to a bad break up...but, then again, can't we all?
Matt
KosmicJelli and No Blame, : )
Thanks!
Loved the interpretation of "Black", one of my favorite PJ songs. My daughter goes to school in Charles Town, WV (10th grade), perhaps you could make the short drive down and teach that unit to her English class. :-)
Washington, D.C. - 2008
Philadelphia, PA I - 2009
Bristow, VA - 2010
Baltimore, MD - 2013
Milwaukee, WI - 2014
Hampton, VA - 2016
Just like in Hollywood, a long time ago they produced movies adapted from great novels, now it's spiderman against the giant sausage man, tomorow they will adapt the happy meal or the next britney spears lyrics it's a worldwide suicide cultural
P.S Maryland Teacher, you are by far the coolest teacher in existence. I would worship you if you taught me.
are you trying to insinuate something?
black is an extraordinary and exceptionally well-written song...
you waited all day..
but you left before sunset..
...should have stayed for the sunset...
if not for me.
Thank You, sachinc. : )
...it has tremendous power behind it...it's a timeless classic.
I taught high school history for 9+ years. The greatest, most rewarding challenge was making the lessons of "dead guys" tangible to a bunch of teenagers. The moments in which the kids did achieve this personal connection - the "A-HA MOMENT" as we called it - was what made the job so rewarding.
You are doing your students a tremendous service. What you have achieved here is more than just a poetry lesson. You have introduced them to rock and roll, the good side of pop culture and the strength of creativity and self-expression. You are showing them that art - like history - is L I V I N G, and in doing so you have empowered them tremendously.
Keep fighting the good fight, my friend.
ds
I may be wrong........BUT...I always heard the following......
I take a walk outside, I'm surrounded by, some kids at play, oh I can hear their laughter so I,....DO I SEE HER.....
TO ME>..this has to be correct. He is taking a walk outside, is getting through it all. He sees some kids, is social enough to be in a park etc.... Then, he realizes his surroundings, registers everything and is ABOUT TO SMILe...(I can hear their laughter, so I .........smile, laugh, enjoy something...........then....it all crashes because as he does this, he thinks he sees her......"how quick the sun can, drop away........."
Sear -
VERB:
seared , sear?ing , sears
VERB:
tr.
To char, scorch, or burn the surface of with or as if with a hot instrument. See Synonyms at burn 1.
To cause to dry up and wither.
VERB:
intr.
To become withered or dried up.
NOUN:
A condition, such as a scar, produced by searing.
"A lie travels half-way around the world
before the truth can even gets its boots on to get out the door."
-Mark Twain
May I profer an idea? You relate the torture of the narrator (although, I should rather think of him as the Poet-Lover) to the punishment of Sysiphus:
"Trapped within the scattered ruins of his own emotional wasteland, the Narrator feels that he is at risk of drying out and shriveling up. The Narrator identifies with Sisyphus, condemned to an eternity of rolling his emotional boulder up life's steep inclines."
However, I feel that your assessment of his "drying out and shrivelling up" is more akin to the sufferings of Tantalus. I've always regarded Tantalus' torture as maddening, enraging and provoking unimaginably passionate desire, whereas Sisyphus' is more intensely wearisome. I feel I would rather bear Sisyphus' burden than experience Tantalus' enternally raging and frustrated desire.
Along with this classical allusion, your analysis suddenly made me realise how the sentiments of the first part of Black have similarities to the Augustan love poets: they must write because they love and they must love in order to write, but above all they suffer.
Oh dear, it's getting rather late here and I fear I may be losing the plot a bit
I would be most interested to know your thoughts on this.
You caught me at the end of the day. As soon as I get some time, I'd love to do some quick research and spin your idea.
Thanks for enjoying the Open Letter. Black is such a powerful piece of music. Nearly 20 years later, it still rings true.
Matt
Thank you, zeroenvy. : )
MB
That sounds suspiciously like envy to me.
silly...but funny : )
MY RESPECT IS THE SMALLEST THING TO FEEL FOR YOU..YOU ARE A GREAT PERSON AND AN INTRESTING TEACHER,,
"..That's One Happy Fuckin Ghost.."
“..That came up on the Pillow Case...This is for the Greek, With Our Apologies.....”
It's a great place to discuss lyrics and I don't know why I never joined here...but I've found a few great threads where people are having good discussion on songs I love! Ah... time is so precious, though.
Anyway, Mr. Maryland, I remember posting here when it was on the Porch two years ago!
Good to see you still teaching, considering the economy and it's great to see you still inspired to teach kids poetry!
I'm thrilled that Ed responded and it made your day - and also for the kids who wanted to hear from him.
I do vaguely remember saying in a post I said here that it only takes ONE person to make a difference... and I was also lucky to have that - my mother.
Keep on teaching, Matt!!
Peace...
EV: It's your band.
~Q Magazine
"Kisses for the glow...kisses for the lease." - BDRII
Please do an essay like this for every song...PLEASE!
Not today Sir, Probably not tomorrow.............................................. bayfront arena st. pete '94
you're finally here and I'm a mess................................................... nationwide arena columbus '10
memories like fingerprints are slowly raising.................................... first niagara center buffalo '13
another man ..... moved by sleight of hand...................................... joe louis arena detroit '14
Of the thousands of breakup songs there are, NONE come close to the profoundness of "Black".
"and now my bitter hands, cradle broken glass, of what was everything" in and of itself make all other "breakup" songs sound like happy bubblegum (with the exception of "Here comes the Rain" by the Grateful Dead--but THAT still isn't even in the ballpark).
Although I have enjoyed all of Pearl Jam's hits, it wasn't until I borrowed Yield and Riot Act from the library about 3 or four years ago that I have found I am PRETTY SURE I have listened to anything but Pearl Jam since. The lyrical profoundness of Pearl Jam's songs is, well, look what your class has done with it. You Know!
Don't ask me how I stumbed across this, because is was cosmic--go ahead LAUGH--but there are ERIE :shock: connections between Pearl Jam lyrics and the teachings of St. Augustine and other theologians--and "religious" I'm not. Those connections shouldn't be pointed out by me though. Takes the fun out of it.
Diane
I am sure I can dance harder to "Black" than "Do the Evolution"