Skip to main content

Dolly Parton

 The reason I felt drawn to Dolly Parton was that she seemed to follow the Stephen Sondheim playbook. One of the Sondheim rules was that form should match content. And there I was last night in a restaurant, listening to "Jolene":


Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene.
Please don't take him just because you can.

Dolly's speaker does not need to explain to us that she is obsessed--because Dolly's use of *form* conveys the message. Those four "Jolenes"--on ascending notes--create the feeling of obsession. We know what it is like to be inside the speaker's ruminating head.

Another note from Sondheim was that every song should function as a one-act play, with exposition, development, and a conclusion. Recall that Dolly was just in high school when she wrote "The Bridge." It's a little bit overheated and predictable--but it's still nothing like the writing you would expect from a teenager. A kid appears on a bridge and recalls that this was her favorite spot to visit with her lover. Things were innocent, then they weren't. One night, overwhelmed with lust, the kid and her lover spotted a meadow and ran from the bridge--and did the deed. Climax: the kid, now pregnant and abandoned, plans to off herself and float away (in icy waters!)

A final thing that impresses me is the sense of economy--notice how much story the writer packs into a few spare lines:

Tonight, while standing on the bridge--
My heart is beating wild.
To think that you could leave me here
With our unborn child.
My feet are moving slowly--
Closer to the edge.
Here is where it started--
And here is where I'll end it.

Such a skilled technician. That's not easy work.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

How to Host a Baby

-You have assumed responsibility for a mewling, puking ball of life, a yellow-lab pup. He will spit his half-digested kibble all over your shoes, all over your hard-cover edition of Jennifer Haigh's novel  Faith . He will eat your tables, your chairs, your "I {Heart] Montessori" magnet, placed too low on the fridge. When you try to watch Bette Davis in  Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte , on your TV, your dog will bark through the murder-prologue, for no apparent reason. He will whimper through Lena Dunham's  Girls , such that you have to rewind several times to catch every nuance of Andrew Rannells's ad-libbing--and, still, you'll have a nagging suspicion you've missed something. Your dog will poop on the kitchen floor, in the hallway, between the tiny bars of his crate. He'll announce his wakefulness at 5 AM, 2 AM, or while you and another human are mid-coitus. All this, and you get outside, and it's: "Don't let him pee on my tulips!" When...

Raymond Carver: "What's in Alaska?"

Outside, Mary held Jack's arm and walked with her head down. They moved slowly on the sidewalk. He listened to the scuffing sounds her shoes made. He heard the sharp and separate sound of a dog barking and above that a murmuring of very distant traffic.  She raised her head. "When we get home, Jack, I want to be fucked, talked to, diverted. Divert me, Jack. I need to be diverted tonight." She tightened her hold on his arm. He could feel the dampness in that shoe. He unlocked the door and flipped the light. "Come to bed," she said. "I'm coming," he said. He went to the kitchen and drank two glasses of water. He turned off the living-room light and felt his way along the wall into the bedroom. "Jack!" she yelled. "Jack!" "Jesus Christ, it's me!" he said. "I'm trying to get the light on." He found the lamp, and she sat up in bed. Her eyes were bright. He pulled the stem on the alarm and b...

My Favorite Pop Song

  One thing I admire about Prince is his weirdly pretentious verses: Dream, if you can, a courtyard-- An ocean of violets in bloom. Also: Touch, if you will, my stomach. Feel how it trembles inside. No one else writes like this. Did people try to shoot down these choices? Did a producer say, "We'd like to rethink this one... Touch, if you will, my stomach...."  I can't help but wonder. But it's the chorus that makes this a classic. It's direct and universal--and it ends with that bizarre flourish, the allusion to "the crying doves." (Prince's song was number one in America for quite a while; it defeated Bruce Springsteen's "Dancing in the Dark.") How can you just leave me standing-- Alone in a world that's so cold? Maybe I'm just too demanding. Maybe I'm just like my father--too bold. Maybe you're just like my mother; She's never satisfied. Why do we scream at each other? This is what it sounds like when doves cr...