The Sentimentalism of Marjorie

Welcome to the Swiftie and the Scholar, the podcast where we examine the lyrics, lore, and literary legacy of Taylor Swift. I am Angela McDowell, the Swiftie. And I am Dr. Jerry Coates, the Scholar. Hi, Uncle Jerry. Hello, Angela. I'm a serious poet, here to talk about today. I had not anticipated it. But today I'm talking about David Hume and I'm talking about Immanuel Kant. OK. So I thought I should be really scholarly, be very scholarly. OK. Because we have a Kantian discussion. I don't I've never happened to those before. Really? Oh, you can't avoid them. That's a good one. I thought the setup was obvious. It wasn't. It wasn't for me. How are you doing? I'm good. How are you? I'm good. You ready to talk about grandmas? Yes, I am ready to talk. I guessed it correctly. You did. Yes. So Uncle Jerry, I sent Uncle Jerry this poem and like I texted him and said, you've got more in your email. And then a couple hours later, he said, oh, I like this. Tell me this is about her grandmother. Yes. And I said, it absolutely is. You're so smart. Well, you know, it took me all of one reading. So today we're talking about Marjorie. This is from Evermore in 2020. Taylor's maternal grandmother. So Taylor's mom's mom is named Marjorie. OK. And you've told me before she's very close with her mom. Yes. And her family, her whole family, really. But yes, especially her mom. And yeah, this was written by Taylor and Aaron Dussner and produced by Aaron Dussner. OK. I feel like we've now talked about more Aaron Dussner produced songs and we have Jackie Antonoff produce songs. But I think those are the sadder ones that I like more. So here we are. This one was kind of a grower for me. Like at first I was like, OK, great. You know, then she actually put it on the Ares Tour set list. And when she puts things on to when you hear them live, it just kind of changes them for you. You know. And so I do really like this one now. And we will watch that performance at the end of this. OK. That sounds fun. Yeah. Take it away. Well, I was going to say first that I went to a live concert myself this week. Yes. Yeah. Her rumors. It's always fun. You know, even a mediocre night at a concert is better than a bad than a good night in front of TV. Yeah, absolutely. Yeah. So about it. Yeah. So I heard the Yonder Mountain string band. So sort of Nouveau Bluegrass music. OK. Where was it? It was at the Kessler in Dallas. That's the best Kessler venues. A great great old theater. Yeah. So I mean, yeah, to hear Bluegrass in a 1920s, 30s movie was a movie theater was great. OK, cool, cool, cool. I love that place. OK. Right. Marjorie. Marjorie. You know, obviously, I read the title and I thought, OK, who's Marjorie? Is this another fictional character? Yeah. Because we, you know, we had done Betty and and I thought, you know, is this in the world of August and Betty and Cartigan? And no, it's not. It's different. Yeah. I mean, it was obvious when I read through that it's someone who had passed away and it was someone who was very dear to her. And because of the the first and second verses, you know, the little aphoristic verses, I thought, well, this has got to be someone, an older person giving advice. It didn't feel like it was a parent or an aunt or anything like that. That's why I texted you and guess. You did say it seemed like an older woman. Yeah. In her life. Yeah. It felt like a grandmother. So yes, I use that literary term aphorism. OK. Yes. You know, a saying meant to instruct one that is frequently meant to be remembered. And that's what we have. The whole first verse is Marjorie's aphorism. Yes. When she says, never be so kind, you forget to be clever. Never be so clever. You forget to be kind. Dison advice. That's great advice. It's also anathetical rhetoric. Right. So it's antithesis, it's juxtaposition. So she is playing with the words to be kind and to be clever. And then you have to note that those words are alliterative. Yes. So alliteration is really nice. It also helps. It's a mnemonic device, a memory device to help us remember it. And aphorisms are meant to be remembered. It also reminded me of a part I once played. OK. I wrote down the line. I hope this is right. So I was once in the play Harvey by Mary Chase. It won a Pulitzer Prize back in the day, back in the 1940s, I think. And I played Elwood P. Dowd, which if you've ever seen the movie is the James Stewart part. And the line he's talking to the director of an asylum because people think poor Elwood's crazy because he sees a six foot to an half inch rabbit, a puka. And Elwood tells the director that his mother once said this to him. He said, in this world, Elwood, she always called me Elwood. In this world, you must be oh, so smart or oh, so pleasant. Well, for years, I was smart, but I prefer pleasant. OK, cute. Yeah. Isn't that great? Yeah. Yeah. So in this world, you have to be oh, so smart or oh, so pleasant. For years, I was smart. I prefer pleasant. It reminded me of never be so kind. You forget to be clever. Never be so clever. You forget to be clever. Absolutely. Yeah. So it's aphoristic writing. It's juxtaposition writing. Little bits of knowledge that are supposed to be passed on. It sets the tone for the poem because the poem is about how we pass on information from one generation to another. And so I've already given you one of the themes. Yeah. And that's making me feel like it really does belong on evermore, because one of the things that we talked about with evermore, the song evermore is, you know, it's kind of a sad, depressing song, but it ends hopeful. It gets she's always like this pain would be forever more. And then at the end, she says this pain wouldn't be forever more. She has a Volta. Yes. A poetic turn. Yes. Yes. And so that kind of the these are words that maybe a person doesn't live forever, but their impact on you does last forevermore. Yeah, it's those little things that it's those things that people tell you. And it's funny because after reading through the poem, just a couple of times, and I went back and I I started looking at the aphorisms that she says, I thought about my dad. You know, my dad, who passed away in 2018, you know, he he always had advice for me. And it was it was always good advice, you know. And some of it was like personal advice, you know, don't use foul language. There are always better words. I never heard my dad say a bad, you know, what we would consider to be foul or inappropriate language. Never. And I don't mean to say he was an absolute puritan. He was an officer in the US Navy. And I heard more foul language around the hanger at NES Dallas than I did, you know, any place else. But my dad just made that as a suggestion. He gave me physical suggestions, too, like when you use a table saw. Don't push the lumber through with your thumb. Right. That's very smart. A very really bad idea. Yeah, if you want to keep your thumb, right, you use a guide or another piece of wood to push it through. You know, it's funny because when I got into eighth grade, you had to take shop and I took wood shop and they showed us a safety film and they showed a kid pushing wood through this way and he cuts his thumb off. Oh my gosh, they showed you that. It was great. It was like this 1950s instructional film that looked like some kind of a bad horror film because he goes, oh, he holds his thumb up and it's got like fake blood, you know. But yes, it was it was great. They would show anything to eighth graders back then. I can only imagine what an eighth grader would think of today. It was black and white, of course. You know, it's one of those things we had to go to the film room to watch. A great story like Monsters, Inc. Stays with you forever and Disney Plus is where you'll find your next great story from the return of the award winning hit series, Rivals. Welcome to the naughtiest show on television to the unmissable crime drama, High Potential, A Lifetime of Great Stories Awaits. This spring on Disney Plus, 18 plus subscription required, T's and C's apply. Up next, it's bread flare and his new band. Oh, my God, I'm back again. On that vacation, oh, everybody's been. Gonna bring new games, gonna show you now. New game party. Find new dropping hits every week. Find the new slots. 18 plus big gamble where it's at all. That's right. Oh, in my era, we had we had TVs on little carts. On carts. Yeah, in mine, when I was in elementary and junior high school, they had a designated room with like a 16 millimeter camera. Crazy. And we would load up the film. I was very proud. I was in charge of the film. Of course you were. And so I would run up the film, thread it through and then put it into the intake reel and then get it going and watch Kid cut off his thumb. So my dad gave really good advice. And when I was reading this poem, I thought, oh, that's sweet. There's a there's a gentle inherent sweetness. Yeah. So, yeah, and I think it does set the tone really well that it's those things that we remember and it's those things that we pass on generationally that have real importance. So I'm not going to say a whole lot else about about verse one. It's funny because usually her verses are a little more complicated. But here I think it's the bridge that just knocks you out. Yes. Yeah. I mean, I was reading through this and I thought, oh, this is sweet. This is good. And you get to the bridge and it's like, boom. And like, oh, there there it is. Right. Right. So you get other than the alliteration, of course, and the repetition of form and the inversion of form, the use of juxtaposition or an aphorism and antithetical rhetoric. Other than that, I have nothing to say. And we'll move right on to the pre-chorus. And if I didn't know better, I think you were talking to me now. If I didn't know better, I think you were still around. The first couple of times I read through this, I kind of ran past the line if I didn't know better. And then it only takes a small hammer to hit me right in the head before I realized that that she's doing a little something with that line. It's like a child reviewing a lesson or reviewing advice. Like if I didn't know better, like when a mom says, don't you or a dad says, don't you know better? You should know better. And they mean better than the dumb thing you did or said. And so I wonder if she isn't playing with that phrase, that cliche, you should know better. Interesting. Right. Yeah, because also, let me just talk about Marjorie for a second. Marjorie was Taylor's grandmother. She died in 2003. So Taylor would have been 12. Oh, OK. Yeah, when was she born? 13. Taylor, 1989. Oh, OK. That's right. The album, 1989. Yeah, yeah, yeah. OK. So she would have been like 13, I think. OK. And so that kind of does like fit in with if we're talking about, if we're thinking Taylor maybe wrote this like in the moment, she didn't. But like if we're thinking she's thinking back to that moment when Marjorie passed away, then maybe she is like pulling some of that like 13 year old energy. Right. Yeah. Yeah, I mean, I also felt that too. I'm going to have to say I've got my read a response hat on. I remembered the day that my granddad passed away. My grandfather was an iron worker who worked his last big job was working in coal mines, shoring up the dig in a coal mine. And he died of pulmonary embolism and heart attack because he had a black lung disease based on working coal mines. He was only 66. So I was fairly young. Yeah, I remember when I decided to quit football and and I started taking really difficult academic courses. I started studying Latin. You know, he was so proud of me when I played football and I was worried when I talked with him next that he was going to be upset that I quit football. And he said, son, I'm always proud of you. And son, I'm always proud of you has always been. Always stuck in there. Yes, it's always there. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. And I know better, you know, because my granddad said that type of thing to me about about quitting one thing because he knew I was moving on to something else. And then he asked me, how did I like my other studies? And I think but but yeah, I really I felt that as a reader when I got to the pre-chorus and I thought about the things that I know better. Okay. You know, because of the advice I had received from other people. Yeah. So I think that that's part of that's interesting. Yeah. I've never thought of that. I mean, I do think it's part of the if I didn't know better because she does know better because her marjorie was in her life. Yeah. Yeah. Okay. And I thought I think you were talking to me now. You know, I think that we all hear echoes of the voices of people who have passed. Yeah. You know, I still hear your uncle, Michael. Yeah. Yeah. You know, so Michael passed away. Her uncle, my brother-in-law, who my first met when he was in third grade. I was going to say you must have been really young. Yeah. Yeah. Yes. He was like my little brother, you know, I mean, and when he got into his 30s, we were just as close. I mean, you know, just, you know, and I still hear him say things from time to time. His voice is always in my head. And I'm sure Marjorie's voice is always in her head. If I didn't know better, I think you're still around. So it's the memories that keep these people alive. And now we're going to have to add this to our list of songs about memory. Yeah. Yeah. So, I mean, if you think about the function of memory, this is another one. Yeah. There at the survivor, the survivability of past generations is dependent on our memory. Dependent on somebody remembering. Yeah. That's right. You know, so because I remember Michael's voice, you know, Diana's voice, I hear her from time to time. You know, because I hear their voices, your dad, I mean, your granddad, you know, my dad, I hear those voices from time to time. And, you know, because I hear them, they're still alive. Right. So that's a very sentimental poem, isn't it? It certainly is. We should talk about that. Spoiler foreshadowing. The chorus. Yes. The chorus is a little more of this antithetical rhetoric. What died didn't stay dead. So you've got this sort of irony going. You know, it is ironic language and it is also antithetical rhetoric. So she's she's really playing with a couple of complex literary ideas. What died didn't stay dead. And she says that four times in this chorus, so it becomes like a chant. Right. Yeah, like a mantra. Exactly. Exactly. And why do we have chants or a mantra so we can like actually it gets in here so you can believe it. That's right. Yeah. It's in there. Yeah, it becomes part of you. And, you know, like the there are the mantras. The Buddhist mantra or, you know, I don't know. Ave Maria Grazia Plena. The mistake of Benediz tattoo and Mugliara Berset Benedictus. You know, that's it's in you. You hear it in your head. There's also an interesting mnemonic device going on here. And that is a very strong sense of alliteration. Very. Yes. Right. Died. Dies beginning and ending didn't stay dead. Dies beginning and ending. So all told there are six D's in that line. And yeah, you say the same line four times. So there are 24 times we hear the letter D. So it's like, you know, it's it's like drumming into. Yeah, it's kind of musical. That's right. It's why when Buddhist monks chant the om, you know, they do it in this rhythmic voice singing. It has that pulsing feel. Right. Right. So let's say we've got irony, anathetical rhetoric, alliteration on a very high level that reminds us of mantras or repeated prayer. Okay. Love it. I was thinking this was a fairly simple poem when I until I got to the bridge. You're alive. You're alive in my head repetition. You're alive, so alive. So you hear the word alive four different times. So it almost as though death and life are embattled in this chorus. Yeah, because she's repeating both of those things so many times. That's right. Yeah. I know you died, but you're not dead. You died, but not dead. You're alive, you know, died, but alive, alive, died, not dead, alive, alive. Right. Right. Right. So she's not just repeating words. She's repeating ideas that have to do with the persistent and in her mind, in her mind, the everlasting memory of Marjorie. Yeah. Verse number two. Yes. Our second aphorism. Yes. Never be so polite. You forget your power. Never wield such power. You forget to be polite, which really reminds me of in this world, Elle Wood. She always called me Elle Wood. In this world, you must be oh, so smart or oh, so pleasant. Yes. Do you know what? I played that part and that line has always stuck with me. And I think it's become a part of my life. I really feel like it's a Mr. Rogers thing. I mean, the way that when did you play that part? I'm going to have to tell you when I was a senior in high school. Oh my gosh. Yes. I was 17. So that's stuck with you. Like it embedded itself in you. Almost 30 years. And the way that you could just like pull it out. Yeah. 30 years. Exactly. Don't laugh quite so hard. But you can just, you know, it's like clearly something that you've thought of or referenced like for many, many decades. Sorry to say like that. Well, yeah, because I, for many, many or half a century and more. Yeah. Thanks, Angela. Yes. And I think, I think that's again in my read or response, critical evaluation. That's why I resonate with this particular poem is because I like the aphoristic power of the sayings that she clings to never be so polite. You forget your, your power, you know, don't let yourself go. You know, you know, don't hide your power. Don't hide what you think or feel or know. But also don't browbeat someone past being polite. Right. Right. You know, it makes a lot of sense to me. It also is alliterative. So if you look at the two aphoristic phrases we have, that, you know, the first one has the K sound alliteration with kind and clever. The second one has the P sound alliteration with polite and power. Yeah. That's nice. It's really nice. Yeah. So she's kind of bookending these alliterative elements and giving us aphorisms that ladies and gentlemen, you really ought to think about living by. I mean, these are there. Yeah, they're smart. They're smart pieces of advice. Yes. Yeah. That's why I always like smart and clever. Yeah. You know, I mean, people always called me smart or clever, you know, but I, but there's something about being pleasant that supercedes any of that. Yeah. You know, you can be the smartest guy down, but if you're a jerk. Yeah. If nobody wants to be around you, then what does it matter? Right. Exactly. The pre-chorus. And if I didn't know better, she's back to that. I think you were listening to me now. You know, she's singing about her, talking about her, bringing her back to life. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were still around. And I love that the pre-chorus word change goes from in the second line, you were talking to me now to you were listening to me. Yeah. So they're like in conversation. Yes. Yeah. I think that's important too. I think one of the things she admired about her marjorie is that she didn't just tell her things aphoristically, you know, but she listened to her. Yes. You know, I think again, that's why I loved listening to my dad or my granddad or, you know, they not only gave me good advice, but they listened to me when I taught. Yeah. They, even though you are so much younger and you're just a little kid, you know, they're still like kind of taking you seriously and wanting to know about you and wanting to know you. And in the meantime, don't cut yourself off. Yeah. So I like the chorus, the one word change, you know, from talking to listening. Yeah. It really tells a story. It does. Yeah. Yeah. I think it does. And then you get to the chorus. What died didn't stay dead. What died didn't stay dead. You're alive. You're alive in my head. I didn't mention the rhyme between dead and head, you know. And the same thing. What died didn't stay dead. You're alive. So alive. And then you get to the bridge and I am telling you the bridge that does, this is a poem in its own stand. Yes. Yes. I think you could pull this out and just read it. Yeah. Stand alone completely. Yes. I mean, you could just start your poem with the autumn chill that wakes me up. You loved the amber skies so much long limbs and frozen swims. You'd always go past where our feet could touch. You know, that's beautiful. So beautiful. Yeah. I feel like reading the whole thing. Do it. People keep asking you to do that. And I complained the whole way there. The car ride back and up the stairs. I should have asked you questions. I should have asked you how to be asked you to write it down for me. Should have kept every grocery receipt because every scrap of you would have been taken from me. Watched as you signed your name, Marjorie, all your closets have backlogged the dreams and how you left them all to me. Are you at campaign's lighting up the dashboard? They're not the pipeline. That's bull spend. And marketers are calling it out in dashboard confessions. My boss asked for results. So I opened my dashboard for the only positive sounding metric I had. Impressions. Cut the bull spend. See revenue, not just reach. LinkedIn delivers the highest return on ad spend of major ad networks. Advertise on LinkedIn. Spend £200 on your first campaign and get a £200 credit. Go to LinkedIn.com. Terms and conditions apply. It's beautiful. I mean, let's just put a stop to today's recording. Yeah, I think that's beautiful. That's a poem in its own right. It is a standalone work of poetry. Okay, so why? Yes. It gives you lots of wonderful imagery. The season is autumn. So that's a season late in life. So it reminds us of coming death, the death of winter. Okay, yes, yes, yes. There's a chill, which, yes, of course, the body is cold when you die. But also there's a chill in her heart for the passing of her grandmother. So I think the word chill works in several ways. It is. And it wakes her up. She wakes to this realization that her grandmother is old. You know, it's so funny because I remember I went to a church camp once and I was gone for almost two whole weeks. And when my mom and dad picked me up, I looked at them and I must have been around 14. And I suddenly realized my parents kind of look old. Oh, no. Yeah. I mean, I had this, I don't know. It was like they were always just mom and dad. And then I realized after being away from them for two weeks, I thought, huh. It's probably like the longest you'd been away. Like the first time you've been that long. Yeah, the first time I'd ever been away like that. And so when I came back, I got another look at them through fresh eyes. Yeah. And it feels like she's looking at that her grandmother. I think it's really autumn. But I think that also she's painting a metaphorical picture for us that when we suddenly realize that someone is in the autumn of their life, that the chill is upon them, we suddenly awaken to that. Yeah. Like all of a sudden, like, oh, time isn't going to go on forever with these people. Yeah. You loved the amber skies so much. It's those funny little things that people say, oh, that's a beautiful sunset. Or, oh, what a fresh morning. Or, wow, would you look at that flower? Or, you know, or smell this rose? Have you ever smelled anything so fresh and wonderful? And that people get so much delight out of. It's almost comical. Uh-huh. That's me with the moon. Oh, is that right? Look at it tonight. Look. Did you see it last night? Just a tiny sliver? Yes. And just wow. That's my favorite, the tiny sliver and then like the giant full moon. Like incredible. Yeah. It was just tiny sliver and Venus brighter than the moon itself. Yeah. I love, you can always catch Venus right there. Not always, but just the right times of year. It's those little things. You love the amber skies so much. She had long limbs. Well, of course, the writer is remembering as a child, right? Because she says, you know, knowing better. Oh, you should have known better. And hearing the aphorisms. And so she's writing as though she's a child. And her grandmother would have long limbs. Now she may actually have been tall. Well, I'm assuming she was. Because I'm assuming that Taylor got her long limbs from Marjorie. Because Taylor is a tall girl. And so that's one of the things that she like left to her, you know, that she passed down is like the way that I look, you know. And I also wondered if this was metaphorical, that she had a long reach. That her right that she reached into her life. You know, I don't know. Absolutely. Yeah, I like it, you know. Yeah. And frozen swims. So her grandmother said, let's go swimming. It's like, do you know how golden is out there? Yeah, it's fall now. And she always went past where our feet could touch. So it says she's helping us. She does. OK, so this is what a good poet does. People listen to this. If you write poetry, don't say you are always brave and daring. Right. I mean, you can. But it's in poetic terms, you should you should couch it in figurative language. Here's an idea. Say something like you always go past where our feet could touch. Yeah. Right. You're brave and daring. Yeah. And then you don't even then you edit your brave and daring out, right? Because you don't have to say that she goes past. We get it from the that other way. Yeah. Yeah, that's imagery. And I think metaphor combined here to demonstrate that grandma's daring. Yeah. And she like is guiding us to to further places. Like she's guiding us along this path kind of. Right. Yeah. Well, then I, you know, the more I read the poem, especially the bridge, I kept going back over the bridge just I kept thinking, you know, I could I could publish this in a in a poetry journal, Justice poem, Justice Bridge. Look at the number of times she mentions touching touch the chill of autumn, the touch that awakens us. The, you know, again, think about imagery, the site of the amber skies, the the look of the long limbs, the feel of the frozen water. And then she usually uses the word touch, but it's not touch. But it's totally different. It's past where our limbs touch. That great. And then I started thinking about touch. And I thought about champagne problems where she mentions the Midas touch. OK, yeah. Same album. And Ivy, where your touch brought forth an incandescent glow. Also the same album. Isn't that great? Yeah. Yes, I know. I'm so happy that we've done these poems now or songs and that I have a repertoire. Oh my gosh. Yeah. And so I started thinking about, you know, her use of the word touch, especially, you know, coordinated with these other poems with champagne problems than Ivy. Interesting. Yeah. Well, it's what a close reading will get you. Yeah. And I complained the whole way there. Yeah. It's like a kid. It's just little kid petulance. Yeah. It's like, I don't want to go swimming. Yeah, it's too cold. You always go way out there and we can't touch. It scares me. Yeah. Yeah. I know. But you think about the lessons she's teaching the child. Do the hard thing. Do the uncomfortable thing. Explore. Be willing to be daring. Right. Be willing to be a little scared. That's right. Be willing. Learn how to be. Conquer your fear. Fearless, you might say. Fearless, yes. Yeah. To me, what she's doing is she's putting these aphoristic sayings that she used in the first verses. She's piling them into the bridge by implication. Right. So they implied, you know, be willing to be daring. Be willing to be fearless. Right. Be willing to experience uncomfortable moments. Yeah. Right. Yeah. So she's piling these aphoristic sayings in by way of teaching her lessons just by going on a swim. And does the author claim them? She says, no, I complained the whole way there. And the car ride back. And into the house. And up the stairs. And up the stairs. All the way out to my bedroom. I'm still complaining. And the whole time that she was being a child because she was, she wishes now she should have just had an adult moment. You know. I wish I had asked you more questions. I wish I knew more about my granddad's life. You know, I do. I wish I had asked him more often how to be. He was such a hardworking man. And he loved to play a funny guy. He loved to sing and not a great voice. But that's OK too. Doesn't matter. Yeah. It doesn't matter. Right. Right. Yeah. He taught me how to be. I wish I had, I wish I had had my adult sensibility to learn those lessons. Yeah. And that's one of those things like when someone does pass away when you're still, you know, out of fully formed person yet, you know, it's like you're just being a kid and you're allowed to be a kid when you're a kid. Right. But as your adult self, you're like, well, why was I being such a stupid little kid? And like, why didn't I talk to this lady more and ask her more questions? Right. Instead of complaining, maybe you should have been learning. Yeah. But it's like, well, you were just being a child. Just being a child. You're allowed to do that. Well, and the lovely thing about reading the poem is what's funny to me with the irony here is that she did learn the lessons. Oh, you're right. Right. Because there's a whole song about it. There's a whole song about it. And we even have the aphorisms and we have the story about going swimming, which teaches us several lessons. Right. So the truth is she did learn. She wishes she could have learned more, but she got it. And she says, you know, I should have asked you to write it down for me. You know, I think she's also written a song where she uses the phrase, write it down. Write this down. That's right. Like it's a biblical phrase or something. It is written because writing is a is is a form of memory. Right. So writing, we like to think that if we write it down, we'll remember it forever. I'm not sure that's true. You know, I think that we remember things in our head and in our heart because those are the things that are important to us because we want to, you know, in this life, Elwood, she always called me. You know, I remember the line still still because it was important to me. And I applied it to my life. And so, you know, that that importance is what belies even writing it down. And notice she's taking a car ride too. More cars. I know more cars. We need to write the whole transportation essay. I think one of the best lines is should have kept every grocery store receipt. It's so it's so perfect. Those are inconsequential. The grocery store seats. Yeah, shouldn't matter. But. But grandma touched them and grandma was there. And maybe she took me to the store with her. And maybe she let me buy something. Actually pick out some cookies or something. Yeah. So yes, it's like you say, completely inconsequential and completely part of her mundane life that I wish I had back. Exactly. Yes. Yeah. Such a perfect line. Because every scrap of you and again, her diction is spot on, you know, just a scrap. Any any torn fragment. Yeah. Right. Even a fragment of you would be taken from me. Every everything. You know, I watched as you sign your name, Marjorie. It's very personal thing, you know, the way we sign our names. I guess it's how you sign your name across your heart. Oh, that's another song. Sign my name across your heart. Terrence Trent Darby. OK. This is one of the best lines to all your closets of backlogged dreams. You remember cowboy like me? Yep. The skeletons in both our closets. You remember my favorite, Peter? Yeah. In closets like Cedar, preserved from when we were just kids. Doesn't that echo in closets like Cedar, perceived from when we were just kids? It actually absolutely does, doesn't it? Doesn't it? Yeah. So the closet is is a metaphor for that place where we keep our memories. Right. It's the closet of our mind. It's those. It's not the room we live in. It's not the mind, you know, the present existence. It's those little corners, the back corners of our mind where we think, man, I'd really like to finish writing that book about that story about that. I'd like to really get in the garage and rework that old car. I've always wanted to refinish that, you know. It's like all those little things that you've you wanted to do. Right. Can I can I blow your mind a little bit on this one? OK. So Marjorie Fenley. OK. Was an opera singer. Yeah. Can you tell that kind of blows my mind a little bit? Yeah. Yeah. So she was a singer. Yeah. So she literally had like backlogged dreams of like, you know, kind of making it big and singing for a living and and then she left all of those dreams to Taylor and Taylor took it and. Oh, and how you left them all to me. Oh, that's good. OK. OK, then. Can I blow your mind once more? Yes. Um, the there are backing vocals in the song of Marjorie singing her opera. Oh, that's fun. OK, well, I'll have to listen for that. Yeah. And because she sang it on the Ares tour every night, Marjorie's voice was like playing two thousands, tens and thousands of people. Oh, wow. So her grandmother did make it. Yeah. Well, and now we all know her grandmother. So we'll have to remember her too. Yeah. Darn it. She's playing a game with us. I'm putting that in a closet in the back of my mind. Yeah. Wow. Well, that's fun. I was really hoping you didn't know that. So I could. No, I did not. No, you know, again, I don't do any research into no biographical research. I'll leave that to you. That's my job. As you're so smart. Wow. That's really great. So the dream. Yeah. So like it works with all the things you were saying, you know, and like if you don't know anything about Marjorie, like, and, you know, we're just seeing what's in the text. Like that all is exactly right. Like your memories, your backlogged closets full of memories. But then it's just like, takes it a step further. That's good. Yeah. I actually, I was actually going to ask you if she had, like, do we know what her dream was? But that's, wow, she was a singer. Yeah. OK. Well. Oh. You're right. It does kind of blow my mind. That's just so good. Like this whole bridge is just so good. And then you get to the last lines and it just. Yeah. Just blows my mind. You know, but I've always said biographical criticism is so important. It is. I'm actually, I'm going to claim that this is still a good poem in its own right. Yeah, absolutely. Without knowing, like, I mean, without knowing who Marjorie is or even who the author is. Yeah. Because you're just, you just take that and you're putting it into the people that you've lost. Yeah. I mean, if you had handed this to me and not told me it was by, of course, I would know if you handed it to me. It was by Taylor Swift. But if, if your dad had handed it to me and said, what do you think of this poem? I would have read through and said, that's really good. Yeah. And is poetic in its own right? That's nice. And it's, it's even more fun that we know Marjorie was an opera singer. Okay. Was she very famous? I mean, I don't think so. I don't know the name. That's what I was hoping that you didn't know. Like I was hoping she wasn't famous enough for you would have known that that was her. After winning a talent contest in 1950, she toured on the ABC radio network show Music with the Girls. Oh, great. Yeah. So she was a. Music with the Girls. Kind of both of that. That's just what we're doing here, Music with the Girls. I don't know that she ever like, you know, made it big or anything, but. Yeah. Well, that's very, it's like doubly sweet for her then. Yeah. Okay. I'm going to get over that and finish the chorus again. You know what died didn't stay dead. So she is reiterating the fact that her grandmother lives in her memory. Mm hmm. But I think, I mean, I liked what died didn't stay dead. You know, if you look at the reference, she says, all your closet backlog dreams and how you left them all to me, what died didn't stay dead. Oh, her dreams. Her dreams didn't stay dead. Yeah. Her dreams are alive and well today. Right. So if you read across, then you apply the pronoun them, the dreams to what died. Yeah. Didn't stay dead. So it's not necessarily just the grandmother who didn't stay dead. It's the grandmother's dreams that are alive again in her. Yeah. So you're alive, you're alive in my head and your dreams, what died didn't stay dead. Your dreams are alive as well. Yeah. And so she closes out with, and if I didn't know better, I think you were singing to me now. I know when you, that's what made me laugh when you said she was an opera singer because Yeah, she pulls it in here. Yeah. I was thinking singing like an angel in heaven, Taylor singing like that she used to sing to you as a child. Do you remember her singing? Like I said, that's why I mentioned my grandfather singing because I remember his rusty bad voice that I just loved. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. So I thought that might be something really personal that her grandmother sang to her. I had no idea she was an opera singer. That's fun. If I didn't know better, I think you were still around. I know better, but I still feel you all around. I know better. She does know better, right? So now that she is in an adult sensibility, she does know. She does know. She knows life. She knows how to live. She knows how to be and she knows how to sing and realize her dreams because she's all around. That's so sweet. It is sweet. It is. It is. Major themes? Yes. How it responds to the question, how do we grieve? You know, how do you how do you grieve the loss of a person? You know, are you just just beside yourself without them? Or do you grieve them in a way that memorializes them, that reactualizes their life? I think this is a great response to grieving. How do we mix memory and regret after passing? So, yeah, I mean, of course we regret the person's past, but how do we use memory to endure that regret or modify that regret? And then finally, advice and memory. You know, well, not finally, but advice and memory. You know, how does memory work with main with retaining life lessons? Okay. Yeah. Yeah. And then finally, what's our genealogical legacy? You know, how do we pass the legacy of one generation and all that we live? You know, like I, yes, I am older. Yes, I have done a lot of different things in my life. How do I pass that on to the girls? How do I pass it on to the grandkids to you? Yeah. Yeah. You know, I hope that I'm, I find ways to pass that on. And I hope it works. I hope that, you know, they remember and they can tell their grandkids about it. Yeah. Well, I do feel like you're probably Oliver's favorite person. So, well, I think it's working. He's one of my favorites too. Me too. Pretty great. And I'm going to say Jillian has a special place in my heart. She's our miracle child and I just love her. Me too. So, okay. I did, I did have something I'm going to put on my scholarly hat. Okay. The hat's going on. I said at the beginning, I wanted to talk about David Hume and Immanuel Kant. Yes. Yes. One of the interesting things about this poem is that it could place in a literary genre called sentimentalism. Okay. Okay. By sentimentalism, I don't mean it's pure sentiment, but I mean it demonstrates a, I feel silly with this on. Well, you don't have to leave it on, but I mean. Okay. But does it look good? Yeah, of course. Okay. Okay. So, a sentiment is reflection based on emotion and she's emotional about her grandmother, but she's also reflecting on the nature of her grandmother. So, it is a sympathetic passage. Okay. Okay. It is a style that developed in the 1700s, particularly in the late 1700s. There are sentimental novels. There, a guy named Henry McKenzie wrote A Man of Feeling. Samuel Richardson wrote Pamela. Pamela is sentimental. She gets locked into a house with Mr. B, where she's supposed to be working there, but he is amorous after her and she doesn't know what to do. And, you know, so, and I'm making a little bit of fun of it. Another writer wrote a work called Shamela, making fun of the. Oh, no. Yeah. Making fun of the sensibility, the sentimentality in the work. But sentimentality is an important movement. You know, Jane Austen deals with it in her novel Sense and Sensibility. Okay. Yeah. Right. So, if you've ever read Sense and Sensibility or you've seen the movie, you know, or if you've seen Pride and Prejudice, you know, they have that question. And we have two characters. One of them is very romantic and sentimental, and the other is very rational and sensible. Right. So they compare and contrast. Mary Ann is very romantic, lives by sentimentality, and Eleanor in Sense and Sensibility is the rational one. Okay. Yeah. It doesn't mean she doesn't have emotions. It means that she controls and tempers them. It's just not what guides her. Right. It's, yeah. It's not what defines her personality. The reason why I mentioned Hume and Kant are actually a serious one. I mean, Kant talked about the categorical imperative. I made some notes saying he said in category, regarding the categorical imperative, we should act only according to that maxim whereby you can at the same time, will that it should become a universal law. So you should use your own sentiment, your own understanding or feeling when you act. And when you act, it should be based, you should be able to convert it to a universal law. Okay. Okay. So it's okay to be guided by your feelings, but it should be a feeling that is justifiable with the whole universe of people. In other words, it ought to be good for humanity. Interesting. Yeah. So I'm going to employ my sentimentality, you know, but only if everyone else could employ it in the same way. I know it's an interesting philosophical idea. That's so interesting because I feel like I don't need to get off in this tangent, but I feel like that's kind of what we've been talking about with Confessional approach. Confessional approach. Yes. It is absolutely what we've been talking about with Confessional poetry. Yes. In other words, I think, I do think to a certain extent, now Kant has been bandied back and forth, you know, especially about his categorical imperative has been refuted and re-refuted and reaffirmed. But yes, it's like, you know, for me, when I read good Confessional poetry, when I read Confessional poetry that touches on an emotion that I think could be universally applied, it becomes good. Right. Confessional. When I read one that is just so personal that it has no relevance with the rest of humanity, I think that's bad Confessional poetry. Yeah. So I'm going to say this poem, Marjorie, where she is investigating that sensibility of grief, that memory of a grandmother, you know, that childhood memory of a grandmother who's unfulfilled goals are our goals that she took up. That should be universal. Yeah. You know, like. If carrying on whatever it is like from older generations. Like my dad's good advice is something I should pass on to Oliver. My grand dad's kindness and telling me, I'm proud of you, whatever you decide. I need to pass that on to Jillian or I need, you know, I certainly need to pass that on to, I don't know, to anybody with whom I'm in contact because it should be a universal. Right. Right. Right. So, okay, David Hume's moral sense theory is in his work, a treatise of human nature. And he says that emotional responses to experience should equal morality. So moral sense theory. So again, the way we feel about things, if they're moral, then they should be true. So. Okay. Yeah. So her feeling for her grandmother is, is moral. It's, you know, it is a moral one to want to keep the previous person alive. It is a moral idea to pursue aphorisms like never be so kind. You forget to be clever. It is, it is morally true that you should pursue an aphorism like never wield such power. You forget to be polite. Yeah. Right. And so, you know, I'm going to say this is a sentimental work, but sentimental in the best aspects of the literary mode called sentimentalism. Okay. Yeah. Okay. That makes sense. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. I'll find a couple of sources on this and put them in the comments as well. And I knew that's why I put on my, my tamp. Yeah. I felt like it's kind of an esoteric point. Yeah, it really is like a little bit hard to get it in there. But I think it's worth mentioning, you know, that, that I, that I like the poem because I think it is, it, it validates that moral feeling that I have about her emotion, you know, that, that her emotions are true and good and moral and that her grandmother's advice is true and good and more, you know, and so it should be an imperative to apply it universally. Agreed. Yeah. Right. So that, and maybe, you know, maybe not all grandparents are this way. I know not all parents are this way. Right, right. And I know not all kids pick up all these lessons all the time. I mean, you know, I don't live in that world, but I wish I did. Yeah. Yeah. I'm sure we all do. Yeah. Yes. So that's interesting. Yeah. I thought so too. I mean, that kind of, this is a different conversation for a different time, but just that universal, universality, is that a word? Is, is I think what inside the confessional poetry, inside this super personal this is so specific. This is so specific to specifically Marjorie and Taylor, like talking about the autumn skies and the the swims and, you know, that's like such a specific moment in their lives. But you and I can take this and be like, I didn't have that exact moment, but I know exactly what she means. Yes. That's the universality. Yes. Yeah. Yeah. And I have, I have horribles. I have grossly oversimplified Hume and Kant. And so those of you who are philosophy majors, please don't strike back. Don't get mad. We only have a couple of minutes. And I may also demonstrate my own weakness and saying I did read a couple of those works and boy, they're hard. However, I did want to bring it up, you know, as a validation for sentimentalism and as a validation for confessional poetry. Yeah. I think that, as you say, the best confessional poetry strikes that, you know, the universal and this strikes the universal. Yeah, agreed. Yeah. Okay. You ready to listen? I am. I'm excited. Okay. Lay it on me. I want to hear Grandma's voice. Yeah. So we're going to, we'll watch the Lyric video and then we will watch the Aristore performance and we will be right back. Well, you know, it feels like I am billettling the song by using a word like sweet, but it's so irrepressibly sweet. And so I'm glad I talked about sentimentalism because it does kind of, it validates it as a literary mode. Yeah. Yeah. And beautifully rendered. You know, I will say that I almost like reading the bridge rather than having her saying it. Okay. There's so much that, so much that I think I want to hear that I almost don't want the music with it. Okay. Yeah, that makes sense. Yeah. Yeah. Very sweet. Okay. You ready to grade? You got something else. Shall I talk about what I heard this week? Sure. So speaking about sentimentalism, I attended a service honoring a young person's life. One of the members of our community passed away and she was 14 years old. She's a good friend of my granddaughter and she played on the softball team that Jonathan, my son-in-law, coached and she was a member of Kathleen, my daughter's girl scout troop. She was just, you know, I mean, we live in what we call the bubble because we have this great little community where everybody knows everybody and all the kids go to the same elementary school and then they go to the same middle school. This young girl sang in the middle school choir. She had a beautiful voice. She was one of the stars of the middle school choir. Jillian sings in the middle school choir. Oliver is in the sixth grade boys choir. But she had an incurable form of cancer and she passed away. And so we had her celebration of life on Monday and her friends, the girls choir sang. Choir director was so wonderful to bring them and rehearse them and have them perform. And her friends wanted to say something. So the nine friends got up on stage and one of her friends read a little tribute to her. And at the end of the tribute, she said, she said this, she said, these lyrics feel like pieces of our friendship and in a small way honor the enormous impact she had on all of us. And here are the lyrics she read. And if I didn't know better, I think you were singing. Okay, I'm going to be less emotional. I think you were singing to me now. If I didn't know better, I think you were still around. I know better, but I still feel you all around. Long live the walls we crashed through. God. I had the time of my life with you. Long live the walls we crashed through. All the kingdom lights shined just for me and you. And I was screaming, long live all the magic we made. Hold on to the memories they will hold on to you. Goodbye. Goodbye. You were bigger than the whole sky. So while you and I are engaged in parsing out the lines and the syllables and the words of these songs, I hope none of us ever forget the power of language and the way it impacts all of us and the way it impacts the lives of young people and how it makes their lives richer. We were all richer for her life. And clearly these young girls were richer for her and richer for these lyrics. So never be so caught up in interpreting and analyzing and wondering, is it good? Is it bad? You know, remember that the impact is there. Yeah, it matters. It matters. Yeah. Well, how are we supposed to grade now? I don't know. It's a hard one to pass judgment on now, isn't it? Because of the way these girls started. Yeah. Yeah, they still hear us singing. So can we just give it a hundred? Yes, yes. I think so. Okay. Yeah, Maritry reminded me of my dad and my grandmother and Diana and Michael and Mr. Mo, your granddad and Papa Jim and it reminded these young girls of their good friend. So thank you for the poetry Taylor Swift. Yeah. Okay. Okay. Y'all know where to find us. We'll see you next week. Okay. Bye.