The times they are a-changin'
Die Nobelprys is dikwels 'n omstrede
prys en 'n mens kan 'n lys saamstel van groot skrywers wat dit nog nooit
ontvang het nie. Waarskynlik was niemand meer verbaas as Bob Dylan toe hy die
prys ontvang het nie. BY (30 deser) plaas tereg 'n onderstebo-foto van die
sanger.
Wat is verkeerd met hierdie
toekenning? Wel, soos Nadine Gordimer jare gelede opgemerk het toe hy op die
kortlys was, hy is in die eerste instansie 'n sanger en nie 'n gepubliseerde
skrywer nie. En die benoeming as daar 'n werklik gevestigde skrywer soos Philip
Roth met 'n "body of work" is? 'n Skrywer wat bepaald kon aanspraak
maak, omdat sy tekste nie alleen goeie letterkundige werk is nie, maar
terselfdertyd sosiale kommentaar lewer. En al sou 'n vroulike kritikus van Doer
Onder hom wil afboender van die Booker glo omdat sy werk te misogonisties is,
kan sy kennelik nie die verskil tussen die verteller (of implisiete outeur) en
die werklike outeur raaksien nie.
Hier te lande probeer kritici
tereg om Breytenbach benoem te kry.
Jurie Wessels verduidelik in By
van 30 deser oor waarom Dylan moes wen. Die tyd is ryp daarvoor. Absoluut: die
tsoenami van anti-intellektualisme wat die wêreld getref het, word hierdeur
bevestig, myns insiens. Maar Dylan 'n oerdigter?
Danie Marais, 'n uiters kundige
musiekkritikus, meen dat Dylan wél bekroon kon word. (Oor Bob Dylan en sy Nobelprys vir letterkunde | LitNet. Besoek 30 Oktober 2016.
Hy noem hom 'n groot
sanger-liedskrywer. Groot sanger? Nou ja, mens hoef net te kyk na Karen Zoid se
program om te weet hoe misleidend die term "groot sanger" kan wees.
Ek kyk na die program en skud dikwels net die kop.
"Snobisme is tog niks
anders as ’n houding gebaseer op halwe waarhede en onkunde nie", meen
Marais. Oor populêre musiek - dit weet ons almal - kan niemand hom troef nie.
Maar oor letterkundige kwessies, is daar wel ander menings. Soos oor
kanonisering, onder andere. Die kanon kan byvoorbeeld nie "verdwyn"
nie; ons kan net her-kanoniseer of de-kanoniseer. En die toekenning aan Dylan
as liriekskrywer is ook nie bo kritiek verhewe nie.
"Dis die uitsonderlike
skryfwerk in sy liedtekste wat die saak in sy guns beklink het", meen
Marais wat eweneens Harold Bloom gebruik om sy argument te staaf:
“All canonical writing possesses
the quality of making you feel strangeness at home,” skryf hy in sy The
Western Canon: The books and schools of the ages (1994).
As hy na Leonard Cohen verwys as
'n goeie liriekskrywer of Bertolt Brecht, seg ek amen. Die Brecht/Weill-duo
(veral wanneer Anne Sofie von Otter dit vertolk) aanvaar ek.
Is dit 'n groot liriek?
Look out kid
Don't matter what you did
Walk on your tip toes
Don’t tie no bows
Better stay away from those
That carry around a fire hose
Keep a clean nose
Wash the plain clothes
You don’t need a weather man
To know which way the wind blows.
Don't matter what you did
Walk on your tip toes
Don’t tie no bows
Better stay away from those
That carry around a fire hose
Keep a clean nose
Wash the plain clothes
You don’t need a weather man
To know which way the wind blows.
Die "visions" van
hierdie Johanna is bepaald nie op dieselfde "song page" as Jurie
Wessels en Danie Marais nie.
Maar ek wil nie hul ikoon belaster
nie. Maar geniet en waardeer dit vir wat dit is. Dis werklik nie hoogstaande
letterkunde nie.
Ek lees eerder Saul Bellow of
Frank Bidart. Gaan lees "Ellen West":
Callas is my
favorite singer, but I’ve only
seen her once—;
I’ve never forgotten that night ...
—It was in Tosca, she had long before
lost weight, her voice
had been, for years,
deteriorating, half itself ...
When her career began, of course, she was fat,
enormous—; in the early photographs,
sometimes I almost don’t recognize her ...
The voice too then was enormous—
healthy; robust; subtle; but capable of
crude effects, even vulgar,
almost out of
high spirits, too much health ...
But soon she felt that she must lose weight,—
that all she was trying to express
was obliterated by her body,
buried in flesh—;
abruptly, within
four months, she lost at least sixty pounds ...
—The gossip in Milan was that Callas
had swallowed a tapeworm.
But of course she hadn’t.
The tapeworm
was her soul ...
seen her once—;
I’ve never forgotten that night ...
—It was in Tosca, she had long before
lost weight, her voice
had been, for years,
deteriorating, half itself ...
When her career began, of course, she was fat,
enormous—; in the early photographs,
sometimes I almost don’t recognize her ...
The voice too then was enormous—
healthy; robust; subtle; but capable of
crude effects, even vulgar,
almost out of
high spirits, too much health ...
But soon she felt that she must lose weight,—
that all she was trying to express
was obliterated by her body,
buried in flesh—;
abruptly, within
four months, she lost at least sixty pounds ...
—The gossip in Milan was that Callas
had swallowed a tapeworm.
But of course she hadn’t.
The tapeworm
was her soul ...
© Joan Hambidge