sad and spare

February 9, 2010

it’s another “nashville or bust” day. and i know you guys (all 4 of you) don’t really need to here me rhapsodize on the same topics all the time, but i did want to say that i love this series more with every entry. this particular paragraph is a big reason why:

Listening to Kristofferson’s first four albums, I fell in love with his words and his forthright delivery, his genius for creating an entire world with just a few carefully chosen lines, his wit and sadness and gift for novelistic detail and poetic abstraction. I admired the way he moved skillfully from the mundane to the sacred, from affectionate character studies to aching ballads. 

one of the reasons i became a historian is because while i’m passionate about history, i can write about it analytically and dispassionately. in high school, my favorite class was always english, even though i struggled to be critical about the books we read (unless i hated them). art, in all forms, is deeply personal to me, and when i love a song or a book or whatever, i struggle to write about it in any sort of coherent way (as some of my previous attempts prove). i can’t even really explain why i love it so.

and so it delights me no end to read these columns and witness a far better writer than myself falling in love with the music that i love, and explaining the reasons i love it far better than i ever could.


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