A new theory

[Jyqm]

I have a new theory. The songs of Stevie Nicks, far from being the intensely personal emotional manisfestos that so many of her fans think they are, are actually nothing more than Cliffs Notes to the poetry of Lord Byron.

Consider the following passage from Childe Harold's Pilgrimage:

LXXVI.

But this is not my theme; and I return
To that which is immediate, and require
Those who find contemplation in the urn,
To look on One whose dust was once all fire,
A native of the land where I respire
The clear air for awhile - a passing guest,
Where he became a being, - whose desire
Was to be glorious; ’twas a foolish quest,
The which to gain and keep he sacrificed all rest.

LXXVII.

Here the self-torturing sophist, wild Rousseau,
The apostle of affliction, he who threw
Enchantment over passion, and from woe
Wrung overwhelming eloquence, first drew
The breath which made him wretched; yet he knew
How to make madness beautiful, and cast
O’er erring deeds and thoughts a heavenly hue
Of words, like sunbeams, dazzling as they past
The eyes, which o’er them shed tears feelingly and fast.

LXXVIII.

His love was passion’s essence - as a tree
On fire by lightning; with ethereal flame
Kindled he was, and blasted; for to be
Thus, and enamoured, were in him the same.
But his was not the love of living dame,
Nor of the dead who rise upon our dreams,
But of Ideal beauty, which became
In him existence, and o’erflowing teems
Along his burning page, distempered though it seems.

LXXIX.

This breathed itself to life in Julie, this
Invested her with all that’s wild and sweet;
This hallowed, too, the memorable kiss
Which every morn his fevered lip would greet,
From hers, who but with friendship his would meet:
But to that gentle touch, through brain and breast
Flashed the thrilled spirit’s love-devouring heat;
In that absorbing sigh perchance more blest,
Than vulgar minds may be with all they seek possest.

LXXX.

His life was one long war with self-sought foes,
Or friends by him self-banished; for his mind
Had grown Suspicion’s sanctuary, and chose
For its own cruel sacrifice, the kind,
’Gainst whom he raged with fury strange and blind.
But he was frenzied, - wherefore, who may know?
Since cause might be which skill could never find;
But he was frenzied by disease or woe
To that worst pitch of all, which wears a reasoning show.

LXXXI.

For then he was inspired, and from him came,
As from the Pythian’s mystic cave of yore,
Those oracles which set the world in flame,
Nor ceased to burn till kingdoms were no more:
Did he not this for France, which lay before
Bowed to the inborn tyranny of years?
Broken and trembling to the yoke she bore,
Till by the voice of him and his compeers
Roused up to too much wrath, which follows o’ergrown fears?

Is not Byron's Rousseau the spitting image of Nicks' "Highwayman" (with France as the corresponding "highwaywoman," of course)?

What about the following incantation from the dramatic poem Manfred:

When the moon is on the wave,
And the glow-worm in the grass,
And the meteor on the grave,
And the wisp on the morass;
When the falling stars are shooting,
And the answer'd owls are hooting,
And the silent leaves are still
In the shadow of the hill,
Shall my soul be upon thine, 200
With a power and with a sign.

Though thy slumber may be deep,
Yet thy spirit shall not sleep;
There are shades which will not vanish,
There are thoughts thou canst not banish;
By a power to thee unknown,
Thou canst never be alone;
Thou art wrapt as with a shroud,
Thou art gather'd in a cloud;
And forever shalt thou dwell 210
In the spirit of this spell.

Though thou seest me not pass by,
Thou shalt feel me with thine eye
As a thing that, though unseen,
Must be near thee, and hath been;
And when in that secret dread
Thou hast turn'd around thy head,
Thou shalt marvel I am not
As thy shadow on the spot,
And the power which thou dost feel 220
Shall be what thou must conceal.

And a magic voice and verse
Hath baptized thee with a curse;
And a spirit of the air
Hath begirt thee with a snare;
In the wind there is a voice
Shall forbid thee to rejoice;
And to thee shall Night deny
All the quiet of her sky;
And the day shall have a sun, 230
Which shall make thee wish it done.

From thy false tears I did distil
An essence which hath strength to kill;
From thy own heart I then did wring
The black blood in its blackest spring;
From thy own smile I snatch'd the snake,
For there it coil'd as in a brake;
From thy own lip I drew the charm
Which gave all these their chiefest harm;
In proving every poison known, 240
I found the strongest was thine own.
By thy cold breast and serpent smile,
By thy unfathom'd gulfs of guile,
By that most seeming virtuous eye,
By thy shut soul's hypocrisy;
By the perfection of thine art
Which pass'd for human thine own heart;
By thy delight in others' pain,
And by thy brotherhood of Cain,
I call upon thee! and compel 250
Thyself to be thy proper Hell!

And on thy head I pour the vial
Which doth devote thee to this trial;
Nor to slumber, nor to die,
Shall be in thy destiny;
Though thy death shall still seem near
To thy wish, but as a fear;
Lo! the spell now works around thee,
And the clankless chain hath bound thee;
O'er thy heart and brain together 260
Hath the word been pass'd -- now wither!

Is this not clearly the inspiration for Nicks' abridgement: "I'll follow you down till the sound of my voice will haunt you / You'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you"?

If anyone finds any more examples of Stevie's abbreviated explications of Byron, feel free to post them in this thread.

[amber]

But these poems are good....
















*snicker*

[Ghost_Tracker]

Stevie has already admitted to her "influences" - I don't know about
Lord Byron but I wouldn't be surprised - but mostly she has said in
interviews that they are Oscar Wilde and Edgar Allan Poe. She's
pretty much flat-out admitted that she draws heavily on them.
Personally I feel she's gotta learn (maybe the HARD way...) where to
draw the line 'cause she's definitely pushing it with some of
the lines she's "borrowed," but ALL poets are influenced by other's work,
and draw on what's come before. Who did Oscar WILDE draw on???
But that doesn't mean that the songs aren't often emotional for her
and written from her heart.
She also has flat-out admitted to having drawn from influences for
her "mystical stage persona" - for example Mabel Normand, Janis Joplin,
and Some Chick She Saw at a Fleetwood Mac Concert Once.
And (i m o) that doesn't mean that it's not (somewhat) a reflection
of one side of her personality.
Would she get an 'A' in a music class? NO, she'd get an "F," for
what she'd see as "borrowing" and what the Professor would see as
"Plaigiarism." But she's not taking a music class. i.m.o. overall, she kind
of "pushes it" and maybe even steps a little over the line sometimes
(psst - she's a ROCK star!!!) - but her genius, perhaps, is not in her
originality or her ability to write "complex" music, but in her ability to
write beautiful and intense music that people remember, love, and
can relate to.
ANY-way that's my take on it!


By the way I have another example for you - people often talk about
how Stephen King is a "genius" for writing The Dark Tower Series -
well, he has flat-out admitted that he "borrowed" the idea from
a poem called "Childe Roland to the Dark Tower Came." He even
discusses it in one of his Afterwards and flat-out, bluntly says
"the influence of the American Western and the Lord of the Rings on
these novels should be obvious."

They did it on The X-Files often, too; and I've recently learned that
Einstein's Relativity was actually based STRONGLY on earlier work from
the 1800s and pretty much wasn't really his idea; and his wife did about
half of the math. Originality is pretty hard to come by - you usually
have to go all the way back to the Greeks to find the "source" of an
"original idea."

Anyway, I definitely agree that Stevie sometimes "goes fishing" in poetry for inspiration - but isn't it possible for her
to read a poem and suddenly think to herself, "holy S**T that's LINDSEY!" ? A poet being influenced by other poet's
work doesn't mean that her own work is impersonal or calculated or meaningless for her. Was Lord Byron's work
meaningless to him because HE was influenced by what came before?

[melly]

I think it's great that Stevie draws on poetry and myth for her songwriting. I think her best writing does that. Most, if not all, stories can be boiled down to a handful of archetypes anyway. She's in good company.

[Jyqm]

My tireless research has yielded another finding. Consider the following passage from the first canto of Don Juan:

LXIX
Juan she saw, and, as a pretty child,
Caress'd him often -- such a thing might be
Quite innocently done, and harmless styled,
When she had twenty years, and thirteen he;
But I am not so sure I should have smiled
When he was sixteen, Julia twenty-three;
These few short years make wondrous alterations,
Particularly amongst sun-burnt nations.

LXX
Whate'er the cause might be, they had become
Changed; for the dame grew distant, the youth shy,
Their looks cast down, their greetings almost dumb,
And much embarrassment in either eye;
There surely will be little doubt with some
That Donna Julia knew the reason why,
But as for Juan, he had no more notion
Than he who never saw the sea of ocean.

LXXI
Yet Julia's very coldness still was kind,
And tremulously gentle her small hand
Withdrew itself from his, but left behind
A little pressure, thrilling, and so bland
And slight, so very slight, that to the mind
'T was but a doubt; but ne'er magician's wand
Wrought change with all Armida's fairy art
Like what this light touch left on Juan's heart.

LXXII
And if she met him, though she smiled no more,
She look'd a sadness sweeter than her smile,
As if her heart had deeper thoughts in store
She must not own, but cherish'd more the while
For that compression in its burning core;
Even innocence itself has many a wile,
And will not dare to trust itself with truth,
And love is taught hypocrisy from youth.

LXXIII
But passion most dissembles, yet betrays
Even by its darkness; as the blackest sky
Foretells the heaviest tempest, it displays
Its workings through the vainly guarded eye,
And in whatever aspect it arrays
Itself, 't is still the same hypocrisy;
Coldness or anger, even disdain or hate,
Are masks it often wears, and still too late.

LXXIV
Then there were sighs, the deeper for suppression,
And stolen glances, sweeter for the theft,
And burning blushes, though for no transgression,
Tremblings when met, and restlessness when left;
All these are little preludes to possession,
Of which young passion cannot be bereft,
And merely tend to show how greatly love is
Embarrass'd at first starting with a novice.

LXXV
Poor Julia's heart was in an awkward state;
She felt it going, and resolved to make
The noblest efforts for herself and mate,
For honour's, pride's, religion's, virtue's sake;
Her resolutions were most truly great,
And almost might have made a Tarquin quake:
She pray'd the Virgin Mary for her grace,
As being the best judge of a lady's case.

Surely, Donna Julia's "age-old desire to please" young Juan, aged sixteen, is nothing less than the exemplar of Stevie's "Edge Of Seventeen." Though in her summary, Ms. Nicks does confuse certain details, such as a number of people standing in the hall when Don Alfonso returns home with his mob after he learns that Julia is having an affair.

[Johnny Stew]

Interesting thread, Jyqmbo!

Stevie's always been forthright about her literary influences. I'm paraphrasing here, but in 1989, she said that she opens up one of the books in her collection, Poe, Wilde, etc., chooses a random page and reads the passage... letting it soak in. She said she then sits down at her typewriter, and lets those words, informed by her own experiences, filter through her.

I've always been pleased by the fact that Stevie's influences go beyond the music world, into the world of literature.

There is an organization called Artists For Literacy, which supports the use of art inspired by literature as a learning tool... especially for those with reading difficulties.
Stevie is one of the songwriters listed in their database, with her most obvious literary nod, "Running Through The Garden."

[Phoenix]

[QUOTE=Johnny Stew]Interesting thread, Jyqmbo!

Stevie's always been forthright about her literary influences. I'm paraphrasing here, but in 1989, she said that she opens up one of the books in her collection, Poe, Wilde, etc., chooses a random page and reads the passage... letting it soak in. She said she then sits down at her typewriter, and lets those words, informed by her own experiences, filter through her.

I've always been pleased by the fact that Stevie's influences go beyond the music world, into the world of literature.
Agreed.

[SapphireSister]

Originally Posted by Jyqm

I have a new theory. The songs of Stevie Nicks, far from being the intensely personal emotional manisfestos that so many of her fans think they are, are actually nothing more than Cliffs Notes to the poetry of Lord Byron.

There is a huge disparity between what you refer to as using the Cliffs Notes version of someone's writing and using them as a source of inspiration and influence over your own words/interpretation and the latter is precisely what Stevie does (which has already been mentioned by several others). Stevie has never had a problem copping to the fact that she is heavily influenced by some of the great poets of our time but I'm not confident Lord Byron is one of them. I do however appreciate your sentiment and do not whole-heartedly believe you believe Stevie's songs are mere Cliffs Notes of Lord Byron's poetry. You are probably just trying to offer up some discussion other than who Stevie's last lay was so thanks for that.

Part of what makes Stevie so amazing is that she is not just sharing her own personal emotional stories with us but using literary references as metaphors which to me demonstrates what a truly prolific writer she is, how well read and intelligent she is, and how she is able to incorporate these things into her own life and relay them in a poetic manner as opposed to something more ordinary or simplistic. It's part of her mystique and uniqueness. I can't think of many popular singer/songwriters today who do the same.

[cliffdweller]

Originally Posted by Jyqm

Is not Byron's Rousseau the spitting image of Nicks' "Highwayman" (with France as the corresponding "highwaywoman," of course)? [/I]:

That's exactly what sprang to my mind when I read it, and BEFORE I saw your quote above. Interesting. But of course Stevie didn't lift ideas from Byron, pshaw! I don't think that's what you're really implying though, is it? You're just being cheeky, you cheeky monkey!

[gold_dustgypsy]

Originally Posted by SapphireSister

There is a huge disparity between what you refer to as using the Cliffs Notes version of someone's writing and using them as a source of inspiration and influence over your own words/interpretation and the latter is precisely what Stevie does (which has already been mentioned by several others). Stevie has never had a problem coping to the fact that she is heavily influenced by some of the great poets of our time but I'm not confident Lord Byron is one of them. I do however appreciate your sentiment and do not whole handedly believe you believe Stevie's songs are mere Cliffs Notes of Lord Byron's poetry. You are probably just trying to offer up some discussion other than who Stevie last lay was so thanks for that.

Part of what makes Stevie so amazing is that she is not just sharing her own personal emotional stories with us but using literary references as metaphors which to me demonstrates what a truly prolific writer she is, how well read and intelligent she is, and how she is able to incorporate these things into her own life and relay them in a poetic manner as opposed to something more ordinary or simplistic. It's part of her mystique and uniqueness. I can't think of many popular singer/songwriters today who do the same.

here,here... i totally agree

[David]

Originally Posted by Jyqm

I have a new theory. The songs of Stevie Nicks, far from being the intensely personal emotional manisfestos that so many of her fans think they are, are actually nothing more than Cliffs Notes to the poetry of Lord Byron.

Jyqm, your two posts here are priceless examples of high sarcasm, & I was amused by both your posts & those of your literalminded respondents.

[Johnny Stew]

Originally Posted by David

Jyqm, your two posts here are priceless examples of high sarcasm, & I was amused by both your posts & those of your literalminded respondents.

I guess I have egg on my face, because any sarcasm went completely over my head.

Or was that the sarcasm? That dunderheaded Nicks fans wouldn't be familiar enough with Byron's work to draw any further comparisons, or to refute the ones he cited?

[David]

Originally Posted by Johnny Stew

I guess I have egg on my face, because any sarcasm went completely over my head.

Or was that the sarcasm? That dunderheaded Nicks fans wouldn't be familiar enough with Byron's work to draw any further comparisons, or to refute the ones he cited?

Don't make this a "Nicks fan" issue (the world is filled with people who didn't get a joke as well as with people who don't read Byron) or a Byron issue (Byron had nothing intrinsically to do with the joke; it was just the springboard).

Besides, Jyqm may not have been joking at all.

Maybe one day people will stop putting words in my mouth & ascribing bents to my lines of thinking. I have my own bents, & those are the bents I wish to share.

[Johnny Stew]

Originally Posted by David

Maybe one day people will stop putting words in my mouth & ascribing bents to my lines of thinking. I have my own bents, & those are the bents I wish to share.

Eh, get bent!

Seriously though, I wasn't trying to make it a "Nicks Fan Issue," I was just trying to discern from where the sarcasm that you detected would have originated. I apologize that that was the first theory I came up with, but I'm sure you can understand the somewhat knee-jerk assumption on my part that perhaps Nicks fans were once again being made the butt of a joke.

I am curious though... what made you feel that Jyqm's post was sarcastic?

[Jyqm]

Well, I am somewhat disappointed that no one else has offered any further examples to supplement my findings, though I admit that Ms. Nicks' Byronic encryptions often can be difficult to decipher. I believe I have happened upon another, however.

I offer to you "L'amitié est l'amour sans ailes":

1.

Why should my anxious breast repine,
Because my youth is fled?
Days of delight may still be mine;
Affection is not dead.
In tracing back the years of youth,
One firm record, one lasting truth
Celestial consolation brings;
Bear it, ye breezes, to the seat,
Where first my heart responsive beat,--
"Friendship is Love without his wings!"


2

Through few, but deeply chequer'd years,
What moments have been mine!
Now half obscured by clouds of tears,
Now bright in rays divine;
Howe'er my future doom be cast,
My soul, enraptured with the past,
To one idea fondly clings;
Friendship! that thought is all thine own,
Worth worlds of bliss, that thought alone--
"Friendship is Love without his wings!"


3

Where yonder yew-trees lightly wave
Their branches on the gale,
Unheeded heaves a simple grave,
Which tells the common tale;
Round this unconscious schoolboys stray,
Till the dull knell of childish play
From yonder studious mansion rings;
But here, whene'er my footsteps move,
My silent tears too plainly prove,
"Friendship is Love without his wings!"


4

Oh, Love! before thy glowing shrine,
My early vows were paid;
My hopes, my dreams, my heart was thine,
But these are now decay'd;
For thine are pinions like the wind,
No trace of thee remains behind,
Except, alas! thy jealous stings.
Away, away! delusive power,
Thou shall not haunt my coming hour;
Unless, indeed, without thy wings.


5

Seat of my youth! thy distant spire
Recalls each scene of joy;
My bosom glows with former fire,--
In mind again a boy.
Thy grove of elms, thy verdant hill,
Thy every path delights me still,
Each flower a double fragrance flings;
Again, as once, in converse gay,
Each dear associate seems to say,
"Friendship is Love without his wings!'


6.

My Lycus! wherefore dost thou weep?
Thy falling tears restrain;
Affection for a time may sleep,
But, oh, 'twill wake again.
Think, think, my friend, when next we meet,
Our long-wished interview, how sweet!
From this my hope of rapture springs;
While youthful hearts thus fondly swell,
Absence my friend, can only tell,
"Friendship is Love without his wings!"



7.

In one, and one alone deceiv'd,
Did I my error mourn?
No--from oppressive bonds reliev'd,
I left the wretch to scorn.
I turn'd to those my childhood knew,
With feelings warm, with bosoms true,
Twin'd with my heart's according strings;
And till those vital chords shall break,
For none but these my breast shall wake
Friendship, the power deprived of wings!


8

Ye few! my soul, my life is yours,
My memory and my hope;
Your worth a lasting love insures,
Unfetter'd in its scope;
From smooth deceit and terror sprung,
With aspect fair and honey'd tongue,
Let Adulation wait on kings;
With joy elate, by snares beset,
We, we, my friends, can ne'er forget,
"Friendship is Love without his wings!"


9

Fictions and dreams inspire the bard,
Who rolls the epic song;
Friendship and truth be my reward--
To me no bays belong;
If laurell'd Fame but dwells with lies,
Me the enchantress ever flies,
Whose heart and not whose fancy sings;
Simple and young, I dare not feign;
Mine be the rude yet heartfelt strain,
"Friendship is Love without his wings!"

Even the most cursory analysis of this piece reveals it to be the ur-text on which Stevie's "Landslide" clearly is based. Already in the first stanza, we see that time has indeed made Byron's speaker bolder (and, of course, older) since he was a child, although further stanzas reveal that he is all but terrified of altering the course of life, having constructed so much of it around a friendship which is gone.

We also see a playful bit of juxtaposition on the part of Ms. Nicks in her interpretation of stanza five. While Byron's speaker "Recalls each scene of joy" from his childhood in a "verdant hill," the hills in which the past of Nicks' protagonist is reflected are "snow-covered." No doubt this switch to a more desolate image is a small dig at the poem's naive idealization of the past, a notable exception amongst so many other of Byron's works which evoke a much more complex and ambivalent response to the phenomenon of memory.